#hand on the back of the neck…… u get me

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

when jungkook finally pulls away, the world feels quieter, as though it’s holding its breath. his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[hungharrington]

okay steve definitely wouldn’t care about body hair, but i just know that man goes feral over your freshly shaved, smoooooth legs

i took this to make him a sillay boyfriend 🫶 sorry if u wanted HAWTNESS this is just silly LUV…. forgive me

The sheets feel cool against your bare legs.

You can feel the scratch of your hair tucked against your neck but you’re too content, all but sinking into the mattress, to be bothered to move it. Your legs are tucked up, your arms splayed wide across the bed. You’ve just done the hard job of an everything-shower and lying down is your well-earned reward.

Across the room, Steve pulls the curtains to cover the window. Shadow falls across the room, banished after a moment when Steve pads to the bed, turning on the lamp. Amber coats the ceiling.

It’s balmy tonight. You feel warm without even being under the covers. Dozing off sounds like a pretty amazing idea right now.

“Not falling asleep with me, are ya?”

You smile at the sound of Steve’s voice, lifting your heavy eyelids to gaze at him.

He looks scruffy the same way he always does at the end of the day. His hair has lost some of its magnificent volume and he’s wearing a ratty old t-shirt from high school. You can see the beginnings of his five o’clock shadow on his jawline. He’s gorgeous.

And you’re the only one who gets to see him like this. The thought makes you smile wider.

“Mm,” you hum, definitely giving away your sleepiness. “Nope.”

A warm hand touches your knee, Steve’s hand reaching out and rubbing it tenderly. He tsks playfully. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby.”

You huff a quiet laugh and let your eyes fall back closed. Steve’s touch has always had a magnetic property, drawn to you whenever he’s near. It has a similar effect on your heart, which always feels like it’s surging forward in your chest to reach him.

The touch shifts, skimming down your shinbone. You expect him to maybe begin a half-hearted massage on your calves— he’s prone to giving them to you— but then, unexpectedly there’s another touch added to your legs.

You lift your head, peering down at him with squinted eyes. He’s crouched down beside the bed and he’s rubbing his cheek against the smooth skin of your legs.

When he knows he’s been spotted, he only grins, shifting his cheek again. “You’re so… smooooth.”

There’s definitely awe in his voice. You laugh, a real laugh this time, and shake your head. You should really stop being surprised when Steve’s a dork — he’s proven to be one time and time again. If you didn’t know different, you might assume this was his first ever relationship.

“Mhmm,” You hum. “That’s part of the appeal, handsome.”

Something glitters in Steve’s eyes at your pet name for him and his grin melts into something softer. His hand on your shin moves again, stroking softly up your calf. His face shows his bewilderment at your supremely smooth skin— and then betrays the look of mischief that crosses his face.

Your brows furrow instinctively. “Steve—” You warn.

He does it anyway, turning and licking one big stroke up your knee. You squeal, surprised at the sensation, and jerk your leg away from him.

“Steve!”

“What!” He mimics your tone, finally getting up onto the bed and crawling up to meet you. He’s smirking, looking terribly proud of himself. He plops himself down, half of his weight pressing into your shoulder as he nuzzles himself into your neck.

“S’just wanna a little taste, that a crime?”

His breath is hot and almost tickles against your neck. It’s impossible not to dissolve into quiet giggles, leaning into him. He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling the two of you closer.

“You’re a dork.”

You can feel the little puff of air he lets out in a laugh as well as the smile that spreads on his mouth. He pokes his tongue out, a minuscule touch against your neck that has you shrieking again— except this time, Steve’s holding you too tight to squirm away.

“Mmhm,” He says. “Your dork.”

You grin, turning to nose against his temple and make a noise of agreement. “Absolutely.”

[coupsiedaisee]

the devil that he is | a companion | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader genre: smut, just pwp warnings: kissing, mentions of alcohol, uses of daddy and good girl, oral, unprotected sex, creampie wordcount: 1.8k a/n: because @hannieween demanded it, here it is, a companion piece to pulse. please go and give that a read first if u can, though i don't think its necessary to understand the smut in this lmao (v don't get it in ur head that if u start demanding more ill write more this was an exception!!!!) Im really quite new to smut and not that great so pls let me know what u liked what u didn't like etc etc. uwu ily all, pls enjoy!

You're cuddled into Seungcheol's chest, sitting on his lap, eyes closed as you listen to the steady beat of your boyfriends's heart. He'd pulled the blanket up to cover you fully and was now rubbing soft circles into your waist.

Seungcheol presses a soft kiss on your cheek, smoothing your hair away from your face, "Are you tired baby?"

"No," you murmur.

Seungcheol's fingers pause, "Do you want to have some more fun?"

You look up at him, "Here?" Again?

"No not here, love," he chuckles.

"Then where?" Not that it mattered. Though you couldn't voice it in the open living room, you were feeling extremely unsatisfied from before.

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes ," you whisper. Anticipation of what he has planned makes your race.

Suddenly, you feel a cool sticky liquid seep onto your legs through the thin blanket. The liquid slides down your ass.

You throw the the blanket off you, "What—"

"Oh shit, sorry!" says Seungcheol. You see him holding an empty Corona bottle upside down , looking less like he was sorry, and more like a cat who caught the canary. He sets the bottle aside an hooks an arm under your legs, lifting you off his lap bridal style.

"Shua, I spilled beer on us and the couch, I'm gonna go grab some of your clothes to change into!" Seungcheol yells behind him as he carries you up the stairs, setting you down when he gets to a door. He opens the door and pushes you through it, locking it behind him once he's through.

There's a queen bed in the middle of the room with a thick grey comforter, and matching grey pillows. A guitar leans against the wall in the corner, a small shelf with a record player and vinyls next to it. Recognition lights your eyes and you whip around smacking Seungcheol in the chest. "Seungcheol!" Smack! "This is Josh's room!"

"Yeah, it is," Seungcheol's got a cheeky glint in his eye.

Your jaw drops and you smack him again, "We are not doing anything in here! I thought you were taking me to the bathroom." A fresh new blush blooms on your cheeks as heat rushes to your face.

"You want me to take you back downstairs to the bathroom?" Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, smirk growing and eyes darkening. He grabs you by the back of you neck, pulling you towards him, and using his other hand to slide up under you skirt to fondle an ass cheek. Your hands stay on his chest as his hot breath fans over your face, "Do you want everyone to hear the beautiful sounds you're about to make when I fuck you?"

You close your eyes and shudder, imagining people's eyes as they follow you and Seungcheol going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. Imagining Seungcheol bending you over the counter so you can watch him in the mirror as he rails you from behind. The way your loud moans would reverberate off the bathroom walls and echo down the hallways to the living room, kitchen, and game room.

Seungcheol tightens the grip on your ass, "Oh, you do, don't you baby?" His face is so close your noses touch, but he doesn't close the distance between your lips. "You want everyone to hear how filthy you actually are, my shy shy girl." You clench you fingers around the fabric of his polo, and nod the faintest of nods. "I need to hear you baby. Do you or do you not want everyone to hear how drunk you are for Daddy's cock?"

You whine, nodding and grazing your lips against Seungcheol's. He tightens the hold on you neck, holding you back, "Words, babygirl."

"I-I want, you t-to—" You stumble over the words, still too shy to verbalize what you need from your boyfriend.

"We're not going anywhere until you can say it, babygirl," Seungcheol murmurs, moving his hand to cup your jaw.

You swallow before trying again, keeping your voice steady, "I want you to fuck me."

"And," he rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek.

"And?" You falter, looking into his deep brown eyes.

"And, you know what else." He goads you on.

"A-and," You think . Then, you understand and, your thighs rubs against each other on their own accord, seeking friction. "I want everyone to hear," you whisper.

Seungcheol is unrelentless though, the devil that he is. "Hear what, baby?"

You whine and try to lean over to catch his lips with yours.

"Come on," he takes his hand off your ass to smooth your hair out of your face, using the hand on your jaw to force you to look at him. "Say it and I'll give you exactly what you want." Your eyes glaze over at that.

"I want everyone to he-ar," you voice cracks but you keep on, "how filthy I am for Daddy's cock." You wince at how needy your voice sounds.

Seungcheol presses the sweetest, softest, kiss to your lips and smiles at you, "Good girl. Now, that wasn't so hard baby, was it?"

His hands are warm against your cheek and you shyly shake your head no. He pats your cheek, "Go get on the bed, love."

You go to sit on the end of Joshua's bed, perhaps a little too giddy as the bed bounces a little from your weight. Seungcheol follows close behind, unbuttoning his jeans, not once taking his eyes off of you. "Take your shirt off for me, and your skirt," he says, and you don't hestitate for a second to take them off. Seungcheol mirrors you, pulling his polo over his head and stepping out of jeans, leaving him in just his tight black boxer briefs.

His hard cock strains agaisnt the tight fabric and you wonder if he feels just as needy as you are right now. Unable to decipher the look on Seungcheol's face, you decide it resembles something akin to a lion waiting to pounce on a gazelle. He licks his lips, looking down on your nearly naked body.

"For me?" his voice is gruff. Oh, your lingerie set. You'd almost forgotten about it. Deep red and lacey. Bra barely covering the swell of your breasts and panties already ruined from earlier.

You nod, chewing on your lip before asking in a small voice, "Do you like it?"

Seungcheol groans, running a hand through his hair, muttering, "You're gonna be the death of me."

He brings a hand up to up one of your breasts, thumb running over the top. You shiver in anticipation when his thumb grazes your skin.

It doesn't take even a second before Seungcheol's got you on you back against the bed, attacking your throat with kisses. You'll take that as a yes.

You snake a hand up into his hair, fingers tangling into his soft strands, giving it a tug when he mouths at the sensitive spot right under your jaw.

Seungcheol pushes a hand up under your bra and you let out a breathy moan when he swipes over a pert nipple. Your hips buck up into him, craving friction, and he grinds his clothed hard cock over your clothed cunt.

Seungcheol kisses down your neck, and your chest, lower and lower, until he reaches your soaked panties. He rips them off, tossing them into an unknown corner of the room, and uses his hands to spread your legs apart, holding them down firmly at your thighs.

Your breath hitches when you feel Seungcheol lick a fat, wet stripe up your cunt. But he doesn't give you a chance you even think about it, instead attacking your pussy with his mouth, switching between licking at it and sucking your clit. Your head rolls back in pleasure, and any move to grind against his face is halted by his firm hold on your thighs.

"Seungcheol," you whimper, as he sucks roughly at your clit. You pull on his hair, biting back a moan as pleasure builds within you. You need more.

Seungcheol lifts his head, your arousal dripping down his chin. He looks smug at how much you've come undone on just his tongue alone.

He leans up to kiss you, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You moan into his mouth and he ruts agaisnt you. You grind up against him, or at least try to, with his hands still firmly holding you down. "Seungcheol," you whine, "I need you."

Seungcheol groans again, nipping at your bottom lip. He sits up on his knees, still situated between your legs, and pulls out his cock. It's hard and leaking so much pre-cum out its red tip. You nearly drool at the sight.

He rubs his cock against your entrance, letting your arousal smear all over it, and with no preamble, starts to push in.

You gasp at the feeling of his girthy cock slowly stretching you out, "Seungcheol." With one final push, he bottoms out, and god have you never felt so full.

Seungcheol leans down to kiss you and then he starts to move. Slow and languid at first but faster as he starts rocking his hips against yours.

He grunts with every snap of his hips and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand to hide your moans.

"Baby," Seungcheol's breathing hard, but so are you, "Baby, don't cover your mouth, let them hear you." At that, your pussy clenches around Seungcheol's cock, and Seungcheol stalls for a moment, letting out a choked, "Oh my god."

You slip out your own sweet little cry as Seungcheol picks his pace back up, your orgasm starting to build. Seungcheol moves his hand down to your clit and starts rubbing circles on it. "Come for me baby, cum all over Daddy's cock, yeah?"

You let out one final echoing moan as your orgasm comes crashing down around you, Seungcheol following after you with a quick fuck fuck fuck. You whimper from pleasure as you feel Seungcheol fill you up with his cum, the excess leaking out and down your leg onto the bed.

There's a knock on the door, and you both freeze. A moment. And then another knock, this one sounding more hesitant.

"Yeah?" Seungcheol yells, voice raspy.

Another moment, then a pained voice softly floats through the door, Dino, "Um, the guys told me to tell you that we can hear you? And, uh, Shua says to burn the sheets before you come back down?" There's a incomprehensible yell. "Um, actually he says don't come down just—I'm not telling them that!" There's more yelling and Dino sighs, "He would like you two to unkindly jump out the window please."

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO CTRLALTDAISEE I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON THIS OR ON OTHER WEBSITES

[karaeilishh]

could u do college student reader coming home frm uni with her uniform on and billie finding her hot for some reason and fucks her in it?

thank u i love ur works!!!😊🎀

here, baby 🎀

or nah

warnings: smut, oral, strap, degradation, a little possessiveness

w/c: 1k

"gosh, finally," you sigh heavily as you finally see the front door of your house. your house with billie. you smiled, knowing that she was waiting for you. the best part after a hard day at college was when you walked into the house and saw her smile, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist as she kissed you softly. and all the problems in the world didn't matter when you had this.

"babe, i'm home!" you call out, your voice a little tired after a few classes. a few seconds later, you hear her running through the house, meeting you with a loving look that quickly turns into something else. you swear you felt something snap inside her. billie looks at you with hungry eyes, catching on your skirt, your shirt, your tie. you were given a new uniform and she saw you in it for the first time.

"i missed you, angel. very much" she slowly approaches you, not taking her eyes off your body. her hands fall on your waist, squeezing lightly. you notice a playful light in her eyes and it makes you giggle. 

"i missed you too, sweetie. how was your day?" you kiss the corner of her lips softly, noticing how she tenses. her grip on your waist tightens. she smirks and takes your wrist, guiding your hand to her shorts so you can feel what's underneath. 

"billie..." you open your mouth, not expecting her to be so frank in front of you now. she smirks, seeing your reaction. she was amused by your darting eyes and flushed cheeks when she did something like that.  she pushes your college jacket off your shoulders, making you feel naked just under her gaze. "i thought i could control myself but you look so fucking hot in that uniform... i don't like you going out in public like that"

you swallow hard as her hands slowly unbutton the first buttons of your shirt to reveal your white lace bra. "why is your shirt so tight? you look like a fucking slut, starving for attention" billie runs her warm tongue down your neck, your collarbones, between your breasts, making you gasp.

"it's just... just..." you can barely stand up and trying to speak is torture for you. billie chuckles and bites the skin under your collarbone. "it's just... just... so pathetic, baby" she mimics you, making your pussy literally cry. you whine, lighting a fire in her chest.

"i'm gonna devour you" billie scoops you up in her arms, carrying you to the bed in seconds. the ease with which she does it makes your thighs clench. you swear tears welled up in your eyes as she kneels down in front of you. "open"

you immediately obeyed, spreading your weak legs, showing billie the wet spot that had formed on your panties. "slut" she rips the lace off of you, not wasting a second to bury her face between your legs. she runs her tongue along your folds, collecting your arousal.

"fuck, billie..." you arch your back and grab her hair to hold her closer to you. she moves her hand up your body to play with your tits and flicks her tongue against your clit, literally devouring you. "look me in the eyes" she growls, lifting her blue eyes to you.

do you like the way i flick my tongue or nah?

you try your best not to look away from her eyes. she looked like eating your pussy was the only thing in her life, like she could never get enough of you. you move your hips, literally riding her face. and billie likes it more than you do.

you can ride my face until you're drippin' cum.

sometimes she gets wild around you, hungry for your pussy in her mouth. and she won't care if her tongue goes numb or she chokes. she wants to make you cum. she needs to make you cum on her tongue.

"i'm close, billie...please..." tears of pleasure roll down your cheeks as she continues to look at you like that. wildly. she pushes her tongue into you and you come apart on her tongue with a dirty moan, your cum dripping down her chin. "sweet girl."

billie giggles and wipes her face with the back of her hand. she towers over your body, making you swallow hard. her shorts and boxers hang around her ankles as she pushes her strap towards your mouth. "get it ready for you, baby."

can you lick the tip then throat the dick or nah?

you lick your lips and slowly take the tip of her cock into your mouth, making her gasp. your girlfriend had a soft spot for you sucking her fucking cock. "you look so beautiful when your mouth is busy, doll."

her hand flies to your hair, applying gentle pressure to your head. she was gentle until the tip of her strap hit the back of your throat. billie growled in satisfaction, holding your head in place and moving her hips on her own. "that's it, you take my cock so good, baby."

she fucked your face so roughly, like she could feel every movement of your tongue on her cock.

"good girl." she pulled it out softly, wiping away the tears from your face. the entire length of her strap was coated in your saliva, your pussy was so fucking wet, and billie just pushed into your pussy not letting you get used to it.

"billie!" you arch your back and cry out as all 8 inches were inside you. she didn't even bother to take your clothes off, just lifting your skirt up to your waist as she pounded into you at an animalistic pace. "shut up and take it, slut"

you can let me stretch that pussy or nah?

[prettyboykatsuki]

balancing act | y. isagi + i. rin

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader (she/her used for reader, good girl etc), threesome kinda, oral (m!recieving), bondage (m!receiving) deep-throating, face-fucking, some gagging, rin-centric, polyam relationship, rin and isagi have and established dynamic, soft dom! isagi, implied sub!rin, and switch!reader 18+

✮ wc ; 2k (enough......)

✮ a/n ; thank you for commissioning me @timesnewreader. i was... very excited to write this.... i hope u are okay with the direction i took....

✮ synopsis ; you start to understand the dynamic between them. or maybe all three of you, a little more.

or isagi teaching you how to make rin feel good while rins tied up.

tip jar | commission post (closed for now)

Isagi's hand is warm as it rests on your head.

You look up at him from where you're kneeling, craning your neck to try and get a look of his face. He notices quickly, instantly—affectionate as he lets his hand cup your cheek. His thumb brushes along your lip as he pets you.

A fuzzy feeling settles in your stomach at the touch and he smiles at you. Sun-warm, almost deceptively kind.

You can feel Rin's gaze on you too. Unreadable to you like always. Not quite cruel, not quite openly affectionate either. Something else simmering under the weighted teal irises that makes your stomach tie in knots.

"Don't be nervous," Isagi hums. Him and Rin lock eyes and for a split second, you almost think you understand them. "He won't act tough forever,"

"Shut up," RIn hisses. Isagi clicks his teeth.

"Lighten up first," Isagi says, shaking his head. He cards his fingers through Rin's hair. And then he tugs from the root, hard enough to make RIn hiss. His smile is the same - no traces of malice. "You're scaring her, y'know? Be civil."

Rin looks down at you again. On you? You don't really know. He doesn't look for long, and doesn't respond to Isagi when he talks. His eyes dart in another direction and he scoffs under his breath.

Isagi shakes his head. "You're so dishonest,"

They look at each other again, speaking without talking at all Rin clicks his teeth. Isagi sighs, shrugs, and directs his attention back to you.

"Sorry," He says, apologetic. Sincere. "We both want you here. Promise,"

It's like he's reading your mind, visible relief making your shoulders sag where you sit. Isagi's grin grows another size, pinching your cheek slightly. "You were worried, huh? How sweet."

You squirm a little. You can't find your voice for a minute or two. "A little. I don't... if Rin-kun isn't comfortable with it then—"

Isagi laughs.

And then, with no ceremony - he puts his knee between Rin's closed legs and shoves them apart. Rin snaps at him. Isagi keeps his legs forced open without concern.

Rin isn't any position to do anything anyway. You're knelt between his legs but he's got his arms tied - restrained to a chair per Isagis's request. He fights a blush as Isagi keeps his legs apart.

He's not naked, but you can see he's hard. His cock strains against the athleisure on hips - tenting the fabric slightly. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at Rin whose still refusing to look at you.

"Promise he won't bite," Isagi says, encouraging you to touch him. "Not if I keep him restrained at least. It's okay."

You and Rin look each other this time. Rin's eyes lid as you crawl closer between his legs. Your hand is tentative, loosely cupping his cock.

The response is instant. A sharp hiss, dick twitching against your hand despite how lightly you've touched it. It emboldens you, enough to hold it at least. He's hard. You wonder if you did that to him. Some part of you can't believe it.

"See? He's just embarrassed," Isagi says, patient with you. With Rin too, you think. "He wants you make him feel good. Rin had a crush on you first, you know? Between us. I bet you want that too,"

You look up at him innocently. "I want to make you feel good too,"

Isagi lets out a labored breath. "Watching you makes me feel good. Rin-kun will pout if I get to you first," An eye roll. "Unfair right? But that's how much he likes you."

"Shut up already,"

Rin is blushing. Isagi laughs. "See? I'll tell you how to make him feel good. You'll get something nice after, okay?"

"Oh it's—it,"

"Don't argue, 'kay? Go, get closer to him."

So you listen to him. You inch closer to Rin's lap and rest your hand on his leg. Isagi bends down on one knee behind you, keeping his legs apart when Rin tries to shut them closed. Undressing him for your ease of access, hands pushing his sweats down to his thighs.

At full height, his dick is bigger than you imagined it to be. Prettier too, somehow. It's gorgeous—tip flushed cherry red, with a long curve and veins that stand out. Mostly hairless except at the base, where it's well groomed. The hair grows thick still, contrasts so nice against the pale color of his cock. Pre-cum dribbles from the head, silky and and crystalline clear - laced with white.

You feel your head get heavy. A subconscious desire to get closer to it overwhelms your thoughts. Close enough to breathe on it. Rin huffs.

"You're making such a cute face," Isagi coos, amused by you. Embarrassment flares in your belly, tickles your skin. "He likes when you start light. Too much at once and he'll get overwhelmed. Go slowly,"

He instructs so gentle you don't feel condescended. Despite his smugness, his intention is so genuine it makes you flush.

You let your instinct take over. Your mind clouds, pouting your lips to press a soft kiss to the very base of his shaft. Wet and open mouthed, you rest and feel the weight of it. The pulse of it. His cock is so heavy against your face

You move up, kissing it slowly all the way to the very tip. You let your lips rest there. Rin looks down at you, chest heaving.

The obstinacy has melted off of him. Faster then you could've predicted. There's something...needy to it. Almost. Maybe you're reading it wrong.

"You're so good, hm," Isagi hums - standing on his knees behind you. His hand comes around your waist, palm resting on your midriff. "Learned so fast. Use your tongue,"

You dip your tongue into leaking slit on command. Rin cusses loud.

Without thinking, you open your mouth up enough to fit the tip of his cock into it fully. You don't take him all the way into your throat, heeding Isagi's advice to go slow.

"It's sensitive under the head," He directs. He's so comforting, so sincere. "Try it,"

You concentrate your attention there, pressing your tongue flat. Rin jerks above you - hips threatening to buck up into your throat. But Isagi uses both hands to hold him down by his thighs. Rin strains against it but Isagi is firm. You're reminded then that despite the difference in size between them, their athletic prowess isn't so different.

The thought sends you reeling.

"So desperate," Isagi taunts. "A pretty girl has your cock in her mouth and you get so worked up. What happened to your restraint and self-discipline, huh?"

"Fuck off," Rin swears. His voice lacking the composure you've come to associate with him so strongly. "Shut up before I go soft."

"As if you would. Can't cum without me telling you off, can you?"

You feel him twitch in your mouth and you try not to gasp at the reaction, proving itself in front of your eyes. Your eyes go wide and Rin looks down with an embarrassed blush and oh—.

"See? Rin-kun only acts tough but truth is he can only take so much," Isagi hums. His hands slide up your chest and you feel him cup your tits - giving them an affectionate squeeze. "That's why we're spoiling him. He's being like this but he's happy you're pampering him. Right, Rin-kun?"

You look at Rin again and you think you're starting to understand. Just a little. How it goes between them. And now between you. The thought makes your pride swell.

"Rin-kun," You pull away, eyes blown wide in some sudden desire. "I like you."

A pause. Air being pulled into lungs, a held breath. Rin's eyes go wide and you watch as his cock dribbles again. Isagi freezes for a moment too before he laughs, laughs warm and affectionate and so loud.

"You caught on fast, huh?" Isagi says, hugging you from behind. His chin rests on your shoulder. "And me too, right?"

"Yeah, of course you too." You nod.

You understand it a little more clearer. Rin never does something he doesn't have a reason or desire to do. His ego doesn't work that way. Not combating Isagi, no matter how smug, is it's own form of submission you think.

"Let's keep going, okay? Without worry."

A weight lifted from your shoulders, you nod again. Open your mouth fully, careful as you stand up on your knees and get closer. The assurance instills confidence in you, makes it easier for you to go through the practiced motions. Your hands on Rin's thighs, corded muscle strained under your palms where you hold yourself up. Both you and Isagi holding his hips in tandem.

You let yourself take him in. Trapped betwen them, you swallow around Rin's cock. Careful to mind your teeth, the edges of your mouth stretch and ache to accommodate his length. The scent of him makes your head feel heavy, a strong musk and the taste of clean skin all over your tongue. Makes your mouth water, brain melting slow. The effort doesn't go unnoticed, Isagi whispering praises as you open up your throat to fit fully fit Rin's cock.

"You're so good. Just like that," He hums, giggling. "Even I can't do this well. So good with your mouth huh?"

You gag voicing a muffled 'thank you' and Rin curses above you. You feel him strain, muscles of his thighs shaking hard.

"Fuck—fuck, don't—"

You move then. Mouth full of spit, used to the feeling of his cock down your throat - you move bob your head, hollowing your cheeks. Your eyes prick with tears at the way he hits your throat now repeatedly but you push forward anyhow.

You want to see him cum. You want to make him cum.

You can only go for so long though, before your jaw starts to trie.

When you start to slow, Isagi is kind and does the heavy lifting for you.

His hands rest on the side of your head forcing you up and down. It sends a shot of lightning through you, arousal making your whole body shiver at the controlled force. Precise force. He holds you down but he's careful not to push you too far. You moan around Rin's cock in response to it.

Having your face fucked with Isagi as the driver makes your mind bend with unfiltered lust. Your legs clamp again, an empty ache in your cunt as you think about what he must be like when he fucks.

Rin doesn't make it out any better. You can feel him. How he starts tremble, how his voice goes shot - how his dick gets harder, twitches so violently in your mouth each time he bottoms out in your throat.

"Fuck," His head drops back in a groan. "Fuck I'm—"

Isagi smiles a little.

"Be a good boy and cum down her throat like she wants,"

That's what makes him let go. Isagi holds you down as Rin cums with something that borders on a scream, straining against his restraints as his cum spills all the way down. It fills your mouth, the taste and the scent making you dizzy. It goes so far into your throat you don't taste it, rather you swallow it all in one go with little fuss other than a loud gulp.

"That's it," Isagi coos. "That's a good girl. Easy, easy. Breathe."

You cough as Isagi lets you off of Rin slowly, exhaling as you clear your throat. When you pull away, Isagi pulls you by your chin to tip your face over to meet his.

"Open your mouth, beautiful."

You do and Isagi smiles with pride. "You really swallowed all of it. Didn't even use your hands," He hums. "What a good girl."

You make a face of embarrassment. "Thank you,"

Rin makes a disgruntled sound. "Untie me before I fucking kill you,"

Isagi snorts, giving you a short kiss before going around to undo Rin's bindings. "Hard to take you seriously when you sound like that."

You sit where you are, in a mild daze you collect yourself. Lost in your own world, you don't notice when Rin finally gets untied.

It startles you when you feel him practically jump you. When his hands are free, he bends over the chair and brings your face to his. Big hands cradle your face as you feel him kiss you so hard it shakes you. More teeth than lip, rough but full of desire. You feel his tongue in your mouth even after swallowing his cum. At some point you give into it, hands clutching his shoulder as you struggle to breathe.

It's Isagi that pulls him off, a laugh on his voice - not mad at all.

"You're so aggressive when you get like this. Just be honest from the start next time instead of trying to eat her, dumbass."

Despite the bickering, Isagi bends down from where he stands to kiss Rin too and Rin lets him so easily you almost want to laugh. Rin must notice. He glares just a little but he looks embarrassed more than anything.

"You did good baby," Isagi praise, a hand on your shoulder. "What kind of reward do you want?"

You pause. "What does Rin-kun want?"

A blush paints him deep red and you ans Isagi sort of smile in mutual understanding. He frowns, bangs covering his face.

"Want you to sit on my face,"

You look at Isagi.

"Then that, if that's okay."

Isagi hums, a hand on Rin's nape. "More than okay. Guess it's fine to spoil him a little more."

Rin makes a disgruntled noise, but ultimately - he doesn't seem too unhappy with it either.

A very careful balancing act.

[sanguineterrain]

I think I saw you're on s1 of criminal minds soooo baby sweetheart Spencer 🥰 (u are in for a ride with his plotlines!) If ur writing requests maybe reader and Spencer going on a date? And maybe they're both kinda shy 🤭

short one! hope u like 🩷 gn!reader. first date w/ spencer. he's so baby sweetheart 💕

****

"Was this a bad choice?" Spencer whispers in your ear, barely audible.

You turn away from a Pissarro, eyebrows lifting in surprise. "The painting?"

"No, uh—" Spencer casts a sidelong glance at the painting. "I don't think I'd have the authority to criticize even if I did mean the painting. Besides, Pizzarro's work is beautiful."

You're beautiful, you want to say.

Somehow, you're still nervous around Spencer. Maybe it's normal considering this is your first date. You'd hoped to have gotten over it by now.

He's just so... unreal.

"I think if anyone had the authority, it'd be you. French artists must've popped up at some point during your research."

"More than you'd expect, actually. We had a case a while back where the killer used blood and turpentine to—" Spencer stops, shakes his head. "No. Sorry. That's not appropriate date talk."

You laugh. "I don't mind, Spencer. I know you work for the FBI. It's interesting to hear you talk."

He frowns, that adorable crease in the middle of his forehead resurfacing. You want to kiss it.

"No, I meant coming here," he says. "Was it a mistake? I did some research before I asked you out, and they said that it's important to get to know the person on the first date by talking. But we haven't been talking. But then I know you enjoy museums. And you like silence sometimes because being outside can be overwhelming. So that's why I chose here. Not because I don't want to talk to you. I do, I just—"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," you say. "But that's probably the most considerate decision anyone's ever made for me."

"Oh." Spencer tilts his head. "I mean, I don't know how else to go about it."

You know. That's why you like him so much. That's why you're so nervous.

"Do you want to talk?" you ask. "We can go to the cafe and talk."

Spencer sighs. "I don't know. There's a lot of rules to dating, according to the Internet. And Morgan."

"I like looking at paintings with you, even if we don't talk. I'd like doing pretty much anything with you, Spencer."

He ducks his head, scratches his neck. "Really?"

His shyness makes you shy. You bite the inside of your cheek. "Uh-huh."

"I'm overthinking this, aren't I? Hotch tells me that I think myself out of a good thing."

You shrug. "Well, you won't here. I overthink stuff too. It's okay."

Spencer nods and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. "So you're enjoying this?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"I am."

And then, jerky and a little awkward, Spencer takes your hand. You hang there for a moment, fingers just barely linked. Then you adjust your grip so you're properly holding hands.

"If my hand gets sweaty, you can let go. I don't mind," Spencer says.

"My hands get sweaty too. I don't care."

He squeezss your hand. "Okay."

You return to the Pissarro. You'd may as well be looking at concrete, though. The only view you'd spend hours on is Spencer Reid.

[wonton4rang]

bnd fav positions???

oh hi there 🤩 istg I thought I made this already but I checked (im dumb so maybe i did and missed it) and didn’t see anything in regards to this so let’s get to it !!

————————————————————————

pairing: bnd legal line x reader.

warnings: +18, smut.

summary: bnd legal line favorite positions.

——————————————————————————

sungho; call me crazy but sungho is such a reverse missionary man (idk if that’s the name or if that’s a thing but see the picture attached at the end for reference of what im talking about) because omg, he needs you close, he needs to feel your body, your warmth and the way your ass has that small friction with his pelvis drives him crazy. he would intertwine your fingers and kiss his way from your shoulder, neck, jawline and finally your lips, making you squirm and shake due to the pressure his own body has on yours. ugh, he’s such a good and loving fucker, I-

riwoo; sooooo cowgirl but he’s sitting up and y’all are staring into each other eyes and kissing. i do not make the rules, i just follow them. he is sooooo into you (quite literally), kissing your lips and softly moaning against them while you bounce on his cock, his hands traveling from your ass to your thighs, back up to your waist and finally hugging you to bury his face on your neck and start thrusting up when he can’t take anymore and feels your cunt tightening around his dick. makes u come every time, and every time you come back.

jaehyun; reverse cowgirl, yes. he is laying back on the bed, his head slightly raised against the pillow and he can only see the way your pussy takes his dick, your ass giving him the view he needs to shiver and let small cries out. the way you can handle him is insane, choosing the pace and rotating your hips when you felt his dick twitch inside of your pussy. this position had you in control but it also gave him the chance to thrust up and hold your hips from the back every once in a while to make YOU tremble and scream his name before you creamed his cock.

taesan; would y’all believe me if I said missionary? cause he definitely goes for this one every single time. he loves to see your face, he loves to be in top of you, feel your heart race against his chest, see how you blush and how your face contours when you moan his name softly, letting him know how good he was fucking you. and he especially loved the control he had on the pace, thrusting deep but not too rough until it was necessary to make you cry out loud because of how good he felt, his dick would love your insides, slowly dragging himself inside of your wet pussy and kissing your lips as the cherry on top when you came, smiling at you when the tight grip your hands and arms had on his back loosened and you just gave in to his chest while you kissed each other.

leehan; okay but like wtf. i feel like leehan would be one of a kind, multipurpose, fucking you on every position available. but if i had to pick one for him… maybe cowgirl? like the regular one, you facing him but he’s laying down in bed. i feel like he would let you take the lead, allowing you to adjust to him but he would also want to look at you, asserting his dominance with just a stare and a little smirk, holding your hips just for support and nodding at you while licking/ biting his lips and moaning a little bit for you when you started moving. that alone would make you clench your cunt and he knows the effect he overall has in you.

—————-

I forgot to add the picture of sungho’s position :’) but here it is. This is kinda what I meant

[gothcsz]

part nine of the neighbors series. i just had to write this... it was too good of a thought to keep just in my head! javier going back to helena after you rightfully tell him to get lost for standing you up. he's not into it but decides to fuck her anyways?! this man and his unhealthy coping mechanism: sex. smh. this takes place after part seven 🖤

javier peña x f!reader. ~1.5k word count. spanish heavy (translated), s m u t, honestly javi just comes with his own warning at this point, angst (as always)

Javier winces as the door to your apartment shuts in his face, the sound echoing louder than it should in the quiet hallway. He stands there for a long moment, his heart lodged firmly in his throat as guilt churns in his stomach.

He’d known, from the moment you opened the door in that beautiful dress, that he’d made a colossal mistake. He’s not sure how the fuck he’s going to make things right between you.

He sighs deeply, dragging a hand down his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. The way you masked the hurt he caused with dismissiveness and a sharp, cutting comment before turning him away somehow stung worse than if you’d just yelled at him.

His feet feel heavy as he trudges back to his apartment, the guilt following him like a shadow. 

When he opens the door, Helena is there, sprawled comfortably on his couch with her legs crossed and a glass of whiskey in hand. She looks up, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she watches him close the door behind him with a slow, almost reluctant motion.

“Eso fue rápido,” (That was fast) she comments, “¿Todo bien?” (Everything okay?) she tilts her head slightly, her gaze curious but not overly concerned.

Javier stands at the threshold of his sunken living room, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his thoughts. He doesn’t answer immediately, too busy replaying the image of you in his mind.

She sets the glass down and stands, closing the distance between them.“Puedo ver el conflicto en tus ojos, Javi. ¿Tu vecina te gritó o que?” (I can see the conflict in your eyes, Javi. Did your neighbor bitch at you or something?) she teases, resting her hands on his shoulders before letting her fingers curl into the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

Her touch pulls him out of his thoughts momentarily. “No,” he replies, his tone low, “Pero me porte como un culero y me siento mal por como la trate.” (But I acted like an asshole and I feel bad about how I treated her)

She raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking into an amused smile. “You’re an asshole to everyone,” she says lightly, brushing a kiss along his jaw.

He scoffs, his frown deepening. “¿Qué? No hagas ese ruido—sabes que tengo razón.” (What? Don’t make that noise—you know I’m right) she chimes in as she continues with her affectionate touches. 

Normally, he’d lean into it, let her distract him the way she always does. But tonight, it feels hollow, like a cheap salve for a wound cut too deep.

She notices his hesitance, pausing as she cups his face in her hands. “Nunca he visto a nadie tan interesado en lo que hace su vecina. Should I be worried about her?” (I’ve never seen anyone so into what his neighbor is doing) she’s half-teasing as her gaze searches his face for an answer, but Javier avoids it, the hesitation clear in his brown eyes even as he tries to shrug it off.

“No,” he attempts to be nonchalant with his reply, “Solamente tengo ojos para ti, hermosa.” (I only have eyes for you, beautiful) His hand slips down to grip her ass, trying to redirect the moment, trying to bury the ache of guilt beneath something physical.

She narrows her eyes slightly, skeptical but willing to let it slide. “No mientas, Javier,” (Don’t lie) she murmurs. “Tengo suficiente de eso con todos los hombres en mi vida.” (I get enough of that from all the other men in my life)

Instead of responding, he leans in and kisses her, rough and insistent. She doesn’t push for more answers, letting him take what he needs, but she doesn’t miss the edge of hindrance in his touch.

“Si necesitas hablar de algo, sabes que aquí estoy,” (If you need to talk about something, you know I’m here) she says softly, more serious now as their lips brush together.

“Me ayudas más cuando no hablas,” (You help me more when you don't talk) he mutters before pulling her closer. She nips at his bottom lip, and it’s enough to spark the familiar lust between them.

Urgent touches, clothes discarded in a trail to the couch, and soon they’re a tangled mess with a throw blanket lazily thrown over their bodies.

She sinks down onto him, her lips on his neck as she whispers dirty encouragements against his skin.

It feels good—sex with Helena always does—but it’s different tonight.

No matter how tightly he shuts his eyes, no matter how hard he digs his fingers into her hips to ground himself, his mind keeps drifting back to you. To the way your lips trembled just slightly before you masked it, to the look in your eyes when you told him to ‘have fun vetting his lead.’

“Javi…” Helena’s airy moan pulls him back briefly, the clench of her around him sending a spark up his spine. He leans in to kiss her, messy and urgent, but it’s not to deepen their connection—it’s to keep her quiet.

The last thing he wants is for you to hear this, for you to know just how badly he’s handled things tonight.

Large hands move around to knead at her ass, guiding her movements, but his touch lacks its usual fervor.

The thought of you fills every corner of his mind even as he tries to lose himself in her. Your excitement that day by the fountain, the shy smile as you invited him out, and the way that smile disappeared the moment you saw him walk in with Helena.

And when her orgasm begins to crest and she’s shuddering around him, he barely notices, too consumed by the ache in his chest that no amount of physical release can fix.

She notices. She always does. Her rhythm falters slightly as she leans closer, her lips skimming his ear. “Pareces distraído.” (You seem distracted)

“Estoy bien,” (I’m fine) he growls, “Sigue moviéndote así.” (Just keep moving like that)

For the sake of not ruining this moment, she says nothing else, though he can feel the slight hesitation in her movements before she settles back into the pace he’s been guiding her toward.

Her breath hitches, her fingers tangling in his hair as she rides him, and he leans his head back against the couch, letting his eyes fall shut again.

It still doesn’t help.

Helena’s nails rake lightly down his chest, and he shivers, but it’s not desire that ripples through him—it’s frustration. With himself. With this situation. With the way he’s here, with a beautiful woman in his lap, and all he can think about is how badly he’s screwed things up with you.

Even as he drives her to her peak, there’s no satisfaction in it for him. His body is moving on autopilot, chasing a release that feels more like an obligation than a need.

When he finally comes, her name is the last thing on his mind. Yours, however, lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to lash out.

He bites it back, swallowing hard as she digs her nails into the skin of his shoulders, a guttural groan muffled against her neck, his hands clutching her ass like she’s the only thing tethering him to this moment of fleeting pleasure. 

The instant it’s over, he feels heavier than before, the guilt settling back over him like a dense fog that refuses to lift.

Helena collapses against his chest, her breath warm and uneven against his neck. She’s still for a few seconds, and then she lifts her head, her dark eyes searching his face.

“¿Seguro que estás bien?” (Are you sure you’re okay?) she asks softly, concern threading through her voice.

Javier exhales sharply, avoiding her gaze as he gently shifts her off of him. “Estoy bien,” (I’m fine) he repeats for what feels like the millionth time, his words clipped. He stands, grabbing his discarded jeans from the floor and pulling them on hastily.

She watches him in silence, wrapping the blanket around her naked form, unspoken questions hanging in the air. He can feel her studying him, trying to piece together the puzzle of his distraction, but he doesn’t have the energy to reassure her. Not tonight.

He grabs the carton of cigarettes and lighter from the coffee table, his movements practiced, almost automatic. The flick of the lighter illuminates his face briefly before the glow fades, the cigarette catching with a faint crackle. He takes a deep drag, smoke filling his lungs before he exhales, watching it swirl toward the ceiling.

“¿Te vas a quedar?” (Are you staying?)

She doesn’t answer right away, licking her lips. “No. Tengo otros planes.” (No. I have other plans)

Relief floods through him, and for the first time since they started hooking up, he’s okay with her walking out the door. He nods, tapping ash into the tray on the table.

“Bueno entonces, cuidate. Here,” (Well then, take care) holding the cigarette between his lips, he fishes his leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out a wad of cash, walking over and holding it out to her.

Her eyes drop to the money, her expression tightening. “Javi, ya te he dicho como me siento con esto.” (Javi, I’ve already told you how I feel about this)

“¿Qué?” He shrugs, speaking around the cigarette between his teeth. “Te estoy pagando como lo hacen todos los demás.” (What? I’m paying you like everyone else does)

“No eres como los demás.” (You’re not like the others)

They lock eyes, the tension between them heavy and tangible. His exasperation simmers, then bubbles over. He tosses the money onto the coffee table with a thud.

“Entonces no lo tomes. Me vale madre.” (Then don’t take it. I don’t give a damn)

Helena stands, redressing and stepping into her heels. Javier finishes his cigarette with slow drags as she collects her things. She swipes the cash on her way out, crumpling it in her fist.

“¿Ves lo que te dije? Eres un culero con todos.” (See what I told you? You’re an asshole to everyone)

He doesn’t flinch but his jaw flexes, a muscle ticking as he watches her brush past him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

She stops at the door, one hand resting on the knob as she glances back at him. “No sé qué está pasando entre tú y tu vecina, pero necesitas arreglarlo porque odio cuando actúas así.”  (I don’t know what's going on between you and your neighbor, but you need to straighten it out because I hate it when you act like this)

With that, she unlocks the door and leaves, leaving him standing there in his living room, now feeling worse than he did before and he has no one to blame but himself.

He stares at the spot where she stood, the remnants of her perfume lingering faintly in the air. He doesn’t move for a long moment, caught in the crossroads of her parting words.

Finally, he curses under his breath and heads to the bathroom. The cool tile beneath his feet as he flips on the light, the hum of the fluorescent bulb filling the room. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edges so tightly—his knuckles go white.

The faucet sputters to life with a twist of his wrist, and he splashes cold water onto his face, droplets streaking down his cheeks and dripping onto his bare chest. It does nothing to clear the haze in his head.

When he looks up into the mirror, the man staring back at him looks just as wrecked as he feels.

This isn’t sustainable and he knows it. He can’t keep making a mess of every little thing in his life, can’t keep masking his despair with sex, whiskey, and cigarettes.

But knowing is one thing. Doing is another.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @thundermartini . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @almostfoxglove . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @phry-k . @larascorneroftheworld . @marisemonteiroo . @samanthajonees . @yellowbrickyeti . @bambisweethearts . @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack . @picketniffler . @itwasntimethatdidit40 . @94namkooksworld . @prose-before-hoes . @dontlookatme121 . @cherrysugarx . @half-moon16 . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .

[hhughes]

have u heard tate’s new song… SO jack coded I can’t stop thinking about it

ᡴꪫ ࣪ ݂ yes it’s been on repeat since it came out! i’m a huge tate girlie so obsessed with this thought 🤭

the song is sooo jack coded you’re right nonnie. but for me it’s def like from jack’s perspective if that makes sense? firm believer jack is the biggest lover of physical touch. that boy loves having his hands on you and vice versa.

jack is such a sucker for just the casual touching too yk? like sitting in the car and he has his hand on your thigh, and your hand in resting on his. he gets heart palpitations from that alone.

or when you’re sitting next to each other while in public and your hand is on the back of his neck, casually playing with the little strands there. he loves that 😽

he’s so clingy bf coded and you just know that boy gets needy when he can’t touch you or you’re not giving him the attention he wants :(

“ are you mad at me? ” jack asks from the end of the couch, the movie he was watching playing in the background as you continue scrolling on your phone. he’s been sitting there since he got home, debating whether or not he should ask.

“ no baby, why? ” you ask, frowning at the slight pout present on your boyfriend’s face

“ you didn’t hug me when I came home, and you’re sitting so far away. are you just not in a cuddly mood today? ” jack asks, picking at his nail bed slightly, and you know he was trying to hide how much it was bothering him that you hadn’t initiated any contact with him since he stepped through the door

“ m’always in a cuddly mood with you jacky ,” you say, and he grins softly as you scoot closer, snuggling into his side

“you comfortable? we can lie down another way ” you say, caressing his arm softly and he nods

“ m’perfect. just want your hands on me baby, then i’m all good ” jack answers, expression looking ten times lighter than before when he brushes a kiss against your temple

[corrcdedcoffin]

request: jj x kook!girlfriend & they get caught fucking by the pogues so oops the secrets out🤭

18+ mdni

warnings: smut, barely proof read, nothing else i don’t think. it ended up being super soft. i’m in my feels i guess. hope u enjoy

gif not mine (obvs)

kooks vs. pogues.

that's how it was for as long as he could remember. he'd heard the way his dad talked about the upper class, how they were all crooks too. greedy, power hungry business men that prey on the working class for sport. 'you stay away from em', y'hear me?' he'd say.

and jj listened for the most part. the only time he'd interact with a kook was when it was time to take a couple swings — and get a few handed back. he'd never regretted a fight no matter how much trouble he'd get in for it, cause ultimately, it led him to where he was now. face between your legs, pulling moans from you as easily and flawlessly as a puppeteer pulling on strings.

"god, you're so good at this" you whined, gripping his hair.

it'd been three months to the day that he'd asked you to be his girl, and he was set on showing you how much you meant to him. making you feel it.

he licked a thick stripe all the way up to your clit, swirling and sucking before moving back down to thrust his tongue in and out of your hole, fingers massaging your thighs.

hooking one arm around your leg, he slowly inserted two fingers, not bothering to ease you into it before pumping them right into your sweet spot. your legs squeezed around his head as he continued to lick and suck your sensitive nub, making you swear like a sailor.

"tastes so good" he spoke lowly, barely pulling away to watch you squirm. "could do this all day."

you lifted your head to look at him, the way he was staring at you making you feel so.. seen. so vulnerable. he didn't say it, but you could see it in his eyes. feel it in how he touched you. he wished he said it.

grabbing his hair, you gently tugged him up to kiss him. his face was a mess, covered in a mixture of you and him. you gently wiped it away as he pushed his tongue past your lips, slowly pumping his fingers once again.

he kissed your jaw and down your neck, licking a thin stripe before tugging your earlobe between his teeth. “need you, j" you whispered. as much as you loved the way his fingers moved inside you, you could feel him rutting into your side, and you couldn't wait to have him.

he pulled away just enough to look at you, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. another moment of sweetness that had you gushing for him. "as you wish," he whispered.

the two of you made quick work at removing the rest of your clothing, wasting no time in closing the distance between you once again.

now, jj was never one for intimacy. he never really liked to look when he was fucking, but this wasn't fucking. this... this was love. he knew it long before he got you here, in his bed at his best friends house. he climbed on top of you, rubbing every bit of flesh that he could reach as you pulled him in for another kiss.

he wanted to see you.

he spit in his hand and pumped himself twice, dragging the tip of his cock up and down your slit, poking it in your entrance just a little bit further each time. he was about to do it again, but you weren't having it. any other time you would have enjoyed the tease, but you needed him now. wrapping your legs around him, you pushed him all the way in.

loud moans escaped both of you, jj letting out a breathless chuckle. "jesus, baby," he threw his head back, unmoving.

you knew he was big. it may have been your first time having sex with him, but it wasn't the first time you'd seen it. you'd given him head before, but still, you weren't expecting to feel so full. even with neither of you moving, it felt good.

you wiggled your hips a little to signal you wanted him to move, but he was fast to hold you still. "w-wait, wait," he groaned, "jus' — need a moment."

you gave him puppy eyes, begging him to move. he traced his thumb across your bottom lip, and when you wrapped your lips around it and gently sucked, he thought he'd bust right then and there.

he couldn't deny you what you wanted after that. how could he? he was just a boy, after all. he started slow, pulling almost all the way out before going back in, hitting all the right spots and making you squirm already.

"feels good, j" you mumbled, gasping when he managed to push even further, a smirk on his face.

it wasn't long before you wanted even more, not caring that jj might not last as long as he wanted. if anything, you took it as a compliment. you pushed him back so he was sitting up, still inside you. your intent was to be on top while he laid back and relaxed, but this felt too good to stop.

he was so deep inside that the slightest movement made you shake. his arms wrapped around your back, one sliding up to the back of your head, gripping your hair. you had your hands on the sides of his face, taking in how fucked out he looked already. slowly, you began to ride him, turning him into a moaning mess.

it was pure bliss.

the way the course hairs at his base provided the perfect amount of friction on your clit, the way he touched you all over, how he looked at you. god, if he didn't stop looking at you like that, you'd end up pregnant.

his hands moved to your hips, helping you slide up and down on his cock, pushing you down harder. neither of you could help the lewd noises or strings of praise and babble escaping you. the two of two of you weren't necessarily being loud, but you were definitely caught up in your own world — in one another. you definitely didn't hear the door to john b's twinkie slamming shut outside, or the footsteps coming down the hall.

you did hear the shriek when the bedroom door opened.

it slammed shut again, footsteps running away down the hall. you halted your movements, you and jj looking at each other with wide eyes. he'd wanted to keep things a secret for a while, not wanting his friends to be judgemental and make him get in his head about his relationship with you. he already had enough to worry about, he didn’t need your feelings for him to be added onto that list.

"i didn't hear them come back" you said, looking from his bedroom door to the window.

you knew how he felt about the situation, he'd told you countless times that he wanted the whole world to know you were his girl, but he wanted to stay in the safe and secure bubble for a just little while.

he was still rock hard, a little twitch let you know he was unbothered. you looked at him with uncertainty, but he looked back at you with love. "i don't care" he shook his head before kissing you. he laid you back down on his bed before thrusting into you once more.

picking up the pace a little bit, jj rubbed firm, tight circles on your clit. "jay..." you moaned, a little too loud for comfort, his free hand moving to cover your mouth.

any other time, he'd love to be disgustingly loud just to fuck with his friends. he’d take pride in it — but this moment was just for the two of you.

"shh, baby, i know" he cooed, replacing his hand with his lips.

you could feel the tightness building in your abdomen, slowly at first, then all at once. you tried to hold it off, but he wouldn't let you.

"c'mon, pretty girl. come on my cock" his voice was so low and sultry, his thumb continuing its assault on your clit. that was all you needed to come undone.

you clenched around him, gummy walls pulsating and pulling his own orgasm from him unexpectedly. in the moment, neither of you cared he didn’t pull out — it felt too good to worry about it.

he reached down to kiss you once more, pushing your hair away from your face as he pulled away. "so pretty" he whispered, a small smile on his face.

you felt silly for blushing at that, considering everything the two of you just did (including getting caught), but you couldn't help it. you were about to say something back, like a you're pretty, which would've been kind of lame, but he spoke before you, saving you the embarrassment.

"let's get you cleaned up" he sighed, grabbing a shirt and getting to work. he could see his cum slowly dripping out of you, and it made him groan in both arousal and regret.

"what?" you questioned, sitting up to look at him.

he so badly wanted to push it back in, a quick daydream of you carrying his baby flashing in his mind, making him yearn. he knew better than that, though.

"nothin', just... probably should have done that" he showed you the cum covered shirt.

"yolo, i guess" you replied with a shrug, making him laugh. you were perfect, he thought.

once he cleaned you up, he helped you get dressed. it wasn't something you thought could be so sweet and considerate until now. he even put your socks on for you, placing a kiss on each ankle as he did so.

"ready to face the heat?" he looked up at you, hands loosely holding onto your ankles. you nodded your head.

"okay," he tapped your legs as he stood up, holding his hand out for you. "i think they'll be nice, but i can't make any promises." he placed a kiss on your temple before slowly leading you out of his room.

"you sure?" he turned back, playful look in his eye.

"just go," you rolled your eyes as you nudged him forward.

you trailed behind jj, a little nervous to be meeting his friends for the first time this way. but as he led you out into the porch, you were greeted with hoots and hollers, full of excited cheers exclaiming how happy they were for their friend.

of course, they'd teased you both relentlessly for the rest of the evening, but neither of you could find it in you to care. your relationship was no longer a secret, and it felt good.

don’t be shy, reblog!

[kisses4angels]

Pulling Outer banks boys hair during sex.

(nsfw)

Rafe ₊˚⊹♡

- Your body rocked beneath Rafe as he pounded into you at an unnaturally high tempo.

- you look up at him to see him staring into your eyes with an assertive look, loving being on top of you more than anything

- You weakly reach up to tangle your hand in his hair and pull him down towards you because you need more of him.

- he wraps his strong hand around your neck, applying pressure on both sides making your head feel fuzzy in the best way possible

- "stupid needy girl pulling my fucking hair" he seethes through his teeth, irritated that you tried to take any sort of control

- you see him lift his hand and bring it down to your cheek, slapping you with the perfect amount of aggression that he knows you love

- "my pathetic little whore" he mumbles before leaning in to kiss you passionately as you moan into his mouth from his words

JJ ₊˚⊹♡

- you were straddling JJ lap in the middle of a heated make out session on his bed.

- the quiet room was filled with both of your pants and moans as you desperately kissed each other

- your hands roamed his body, paying special attention to his bare chest and arms, gripping onto them at any chance you have

- you trail your hands up his body, caressing his face with one hand while the other tangles in his messy brown hair, tugging on it to pull him even closer to you

- he whimpers quietly into the kiss at the feeling of your hands in his hair

- you move your lips to his jaw, pressing light kisses down to his neck with a smirk on your face at his reaction

- "yeah you like it when i pull your hair baby?" you whisper into his ear, teasing him as you continue to suck on his neck leaving marks

- "so fucking much baby" he whimpers again, staring into your eyes with nothing but lust as you bite your lip

- you tug his hair again causing him to give your ass another tight squeeze, "that's my girl"

Pope ₊˚⊹♡

- pope was kneeling in front of you while you were lying on your back on your bed

- His mouth and tongue nearly worship you as his soft lips suck on the inner of your thigh.

- he peppers kisses up your inner thigh, teasing you when he reaches where you need him the most

- you squirm, bucking your hips up lightly which only makes his smirk grow wider

- You exhale in frustration, encircling his head with your knees and pulling his hair with both hands as you lead him to your clit.

- he moans against you when you pull his hair, feeling the vibrations throughout your entire body

- his fingers dig into the soft skin on your thighs, holding them tightly surely leaving fingerprints that will last for days

- he pulls away to catch his breath, panting while looking up at you with a smirk, "you taste so fuckin good for me love, i'd fuckin die happy if u suffocated me with ur pretty thighs"

John b ₊˚⊹♡

- you and John b were in the living room of the Chateau alone super late at night

- you sit down in his lap, straddling him and draping your arms around his neck to hang loosely there

- “maybe you deserve a bit of a break for working so hard finding the gold " you mumble making you both smile at each other

- you grab the collar of his shirt and tug him closer to you so your lips finally mesh together

- his hands move from your back to your ass, slipping under the material of your pajama shorts to give it a rough squeeze

- he brings his hand up and slaps it back down against your ass causing you to whimper and tighten your grip on his shirt pulling him deeper into you

- you grind your hips down on him lightly, feeling him getting harder beneath you with just the slightest bit of friction

- "fuck" he mumbles before scooping you up in his arms with your legs still wrapped around him

- "you're crazy" you respond while looking into his eyes lovingly with a smile before yanking his collar again to kiss you

Topper ₊˚⊹♡

- you were laying beneath topper on his bed, your legs wrapped tightly around his torso as he sinks himself into you

- a whimper escapes from your mouth when you feel him fully inside of you stretching you out

- "i've been fucking you for a year now and you're still so tight for me baby fuck" he groans out as he feels your walls tightening around him

- "fuck..baby harder please" you plead, knowing he's holding back to let you adjust to his size as always

- "you're gonna regret asking that princess" he says with a sadistic smirk, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek

- you bring both your hands to his hair, tugging on it aggressively in response to him, only making him suck on your skin harder

- "my fuckin princess fuck you look so pretty when you pull my hair like a little whore"

(I have dyslexia so I’m sorry if most of these don’t make sense or have any spelling mistakes in )

[nevernonline]

✧.* pancakes for dinner; svt smau

chapter 08; old wounds. (written)

✧.* synopsis: y/n while in her third year at greenwood international university finally gets an opportunity to move off campus into a new complex, she has to deal with the realization that her childhood rival is her new next door neighbor.

 paring: seungcheol x fem! reader. 

feat: non-idol! svt, nct mark&jaehyun, other passing idols ykyk.

genre/s: reader is super oblivious, fluffy, sexual themes. 

content: swearing, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

updates: weekly

tag list - open

word count: 5.5k

masterlist ▸ 07. shaken up not stirred ▸ 09. are we really doing this?

The cool night air nipped at Y/N's skin as she strolled briskly down the dimly lit street. It was far too quiet for comfort, but Y/N tried to shake the nerves prickling at the back of their neck. Her phone buzzed furiously in her hand as the group chat lit up like fireworks.

"y/n where’d u go??" It was Hoshi, always the anxious one. Y/N grinned to themselves, typing back a quick reply. "I thought you guys left?? omg i'm walking rn?? LMAO"

Not even a second later, another notification came through, this time from Yuqi: "we told you we’d be outside when you went pee??? wtf."

Y/N rolled her eyes, her thumbs flying across the screen. "LMAO im not alone, plus im fully sober rn so im okay!!"

A dramatic gasp emoji popped up from Yuqi, followed by: "i saw you take a shot? also not alone? 👀👀👀"

Y/N chuckled, thinking back to the single shot she’d taken hours ago at the party. One shot, one drink. That didn’t count, right? She glanced up briefly, spotting the tall, broad-shouldered figure of Mingyu walking beside her. He towered like a protective shadow, his face illuminated faintly by the pale moonlight.

"You're quiet," Y/N teased, nudging him. "Are you plotting something, or just sad your phone died?"

Mingyu groaned dramatically. "Sad. Definitely sad. I feel cut off from the world, Y/N."

Y/N snorted as she tapped out another message to the group chat. "okay one shot at 8pm and it’s now almost midnight, so pretty much. also im w/ mingyu and wonwoo if you guys were even remotely concerned about him. his phone died but he said he’s sad."

Yuqi’s response came almost immediately: "Mingyu is like an over 6 foot beef cake he’s okay??"

Y/N burst out laughing, Mingyu glancing down at her with a puzzled look.

"What?" he asked, leaning in to peek at the screen.

"Nothing," Y/N said quickly, shoving the phone back into their pocket. "Just our friends roasting you. Again."

By the time Y/N and Mingyu made it back to the house, the rest of the group had already gathered in Hoshi’s room, sprawled across the mismatched blankets and cushions. Hoshi looked up immediately, relief washing over his face.

"Finally," he said with a smirk. "We were about to send a search party."

Y/N rolled their eyes. "I had bodyguards, okay? Mingyu and Wonwoo had me covered."

Mingyu chimed in from the other side of the room. "Why Hoshi’s room, though? This place looks like a tornado hit it."

"He literally offered to help me clean it yesterday. Now he’s just being a dick." Hoshi fired back, crossing his arms.

As the room filled with laughter and banter, Y/N’s phone buzzed again—this time a private message from Chaewon: "y/n y/n y/n on the shuttle!! I saw your friends, where are you?!!"

Y/N quickly typed back, "just got to the house rn. we grabbed you some food for when you come 🫡"

Moments later, a reply came: "omg shut the fuck up ily. also wait so… some tea."

Y/N’s heart raced at the sudden change in tone. She leaned against the doorframe, typing back cautiously. "oop ✋ spill."

Chaewon’s next messages came rapid-fire: "well im behind seungcheol and seungkwan on this bus rn. and they’re not talking out loud but i can see them texting each other. and did you know seungcheol has a crush on you?"

Y/N’s jaw dropped, her pulse thundering in their ears. She stared at the screen, her friends’ laughter fading into the background.

"Y/N?" Mingyu’s voice broke through their thoughts. "What’s up?"

Y/N quickly locked her phone, plastering a grin on their face. "Nothing! Just… tea. You know how it is."

But inside, y/n’s thoughts spiraled. Seungcheol? A crush? On her? No fucking way

The night wasn’t supposed to spiral into chaos. Y/N had planned to stick with her friends, sip on vodka, and head home to her cozy ass bed. But now, surrounded by laughter, whispers, and more drama than a reality show, things were unraveling faster than they could process.

The moment they read Chaewon’s message, her world tilted.

"Seungcheol has a crush on you."

The words replayed in her mind like a broken record, even as she shoved the phone into her pocket, desperately trying to act normal. Chaewon didn’t elaborate, of course. She always left the juiciest details hanging, probably cackling on the shuttle right now.

"Y/N, you’re zoning out." Wonwoo’s voice brought her back to the room. His tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp—he noticed everything.

"I’m fine," Y/N lied, forcing a smile.

"Fine doesn’t look like that," Mingyu said, plopping down on the couch beside her. He nudged her shoulders with his. "Spill. What’s got you looking like you saw a ghost?"

"Nothing. Seriously, I just need to catch a second wind. Can’t we just go downstairs and drink and shit now? Come on." Y/N said, a little too quickly.

Before anyone could press further, the door creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped in. The room went silent for half a second before someone shouted, "VERNON?"

Y/N whipped her head around. Sure enough, there was Vernon—hands stuffed in his pockets, looking effortlessly cool yet slightly awkward as he took in the chaos of Hoshi’s room.

"Hey," he said casually, his gaze flickering to Y/N almost instinctively.

"You came!" Y/N blurted out, standing up before she had even realized it.

"Guess I did," Vernon said with a small smile. "Figured it was about time."

The room erupted into cheers and jeers, the group immediately teasing him for finally showing up to a party. Mingyu pulled him into a one-armed hug, ruffling his hair like an annoying older brother.

"Look at you, Mr. Social Butterfly," Mingyu teased. "Did Y/N guilt-trip you into this?"

Vernon’s ears turned pink, but he shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see what all the hype was about."

Y/N felt their cheeks heat up but quickly changed the subject. "Alright, leave him alone. Vernon’s here to have fun, not be interrogated."

"Fun? Here?" Vernon smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N shoved him lightly, the playful banter putting them both at ease—at least for the moment.

As the night wore on, the group split into smaller clusters. Mingyu and Wonwoo disappeared to the kitchen to grab snacks, Yuqi and Hoshi were locked in a heated debate about whose room was messier.

That left Y/N and Vernon sitting on the porch steps, the cool air buzzing with unspoken words. The lit end of a joint sitting between them.

"You good?" Vernon asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Y/N said automatically, but Vernon wasn’t buying it.

"You’re a terrible liar," he said, leaning back on his elbows. His voice was soft, teasing, but there was an edge of concern.

Y/N sighed, debating whether to spill everything. But Vernon had this way of making her feel safe—like she could tell him anything, and he’d never judge.

"Okay, fine," Y/N admitted. "Chaewon may or may not have just told me that… someone has a crush on me. But, it’s not someone I really.. Uh, enjoy to put it sort of lightly."

Vernon’s expression didn’t change much, but Y/N noticed the way his fingers twitched slightly against the step.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice calm. "And how do you feel about that?"

Y/N hesitated. "I don’t know. It’s Seungcheol."

This time, Vernon’s poker face faltered. His lips parted slightly, and his gaze dropped to the ground.

"Seungcheol," he repeated, his tone unreadable.

"Yeah," Y/N said, suddenly feeling awkward. "I mean… I didn’t even know he thought about me like that. To be honest I can’t understand why he’d ever, like we always hated each other. It’s fucking dumb."

Vernon was quiet for a long moment before he finally spoke. "Have you ever thought about him like that?"

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. "I mean… no? Definitely not anymore, maybe for a brief moment in time when I was in highschool, but."

"But?" Vernon pressed gently, looking at them now, his eyes searching y/n’s as he inhaled the flower.

"But…" Y/N trailed off, feeling her heart pick up speed. The words hung heavy in the air, unspoken but crystal clear.

"You’re too nice to everyone, you know," Vernon said suddenly, his voice quieter now. "Sometimes I wonder if you realize how many people look at you and wish they were the one you noticed. So I get it. But, you also don’t owe him anything especially with what went down the first time."

Y/N’s breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in.

"Vernon…"

"I’m not saying this to mess with you," he continued, his gaze steady. "I’m just telling you the truth."

Y/N felt like the ground had been ripped out from under them. Vernon’s calm, collected demeanor was gone, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

"I…" Y/N started, but their voice faltered.

"It’s okay," Vernon said quickly, standing up before she could respond. "I just needed to say it. You don’t have to say anything back. Chaewon is coming straight for us and you guys should talk, I’ll find you inside, okay? I expect you to make it worth my time out of my room later.” 

“You got it. But you don’t have to leave.” 

Before Y/N could stop him, Vernon handed her the rest of the joint, gave her a small kiss on top of her head and walked back into the house, leaving her alone on the porch with their thoughts.

Y/N stared at the lit joint in her hand, Vernon's words replaying in her mind like a haunting melody. The faint sound of laughter and music from inside the house drifted through the open door, grounding y/n just enough to notice Chaewon stepping onto the porch.

She wasn’t alone, of course—Chaewon was never truly alone. She had an effortless way of carrying an aura of confidence that turned heads. But tonight, her sharp gaze was focused entirely on Y/N.

"Are you hiding out here, or did Vernon leave you for some deep, weird, emotional soul-searching?" Chaewon asked, sliding onto the step beside her without waiting for an invitation. She reached for the joint in Y/N's hand, taking a drag as if it were hers to begin with.

"Both, maybe?" Y/N muttered, running a hand through her hair.

Chaewon blew out a puff of smoke, raising an eyebrow. "Both? Interesting. Spill it, bitch. I can tell you’re on the way to spiraling."

Y/N groaned, tilting her head back to look at the stars. "You’re literally part of the reason I’m spiraling."

"Me?" Chaewon gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. "What did I do?"

"You told me about Seungcheol," Y/N hissed, sitting up straight to glare at her. "And now my brain won’t shut up about it."

Chaewon shrugged, looking entirely unbothered. "I just thought you deserved to know. Not my fault if you’re overthinking it. Also, I cannot sit on a juicy secret like that for too long."

"Of course I’m overthinking it." Y/N laughed. "It’s Seungcheol. You know how much history we have. And not the good kind."

"Exactly," Chaewon said  "Which is why I figured you’d want to know. Better to hear it from me than to have him confess out of nowhere, right? Or someone else finding out, as if Seungkwan hasn’t run the college gossip page before."

Y/N sighed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "What ever happened to that? I mean not the point right now I guess. But still it’s just weird. Like, why now? And why me?"

Chaewon smirked. "Have you ever considered that maybe he was pretending not to know you so you can start fresh with him because he likes you? Men can be dumb asses like that."

"Chaewon," Y/N groaned, burying their face in their hands.

"Okay, okay," Chaewon said, laughing softly. "Let’s backtrack. Do you like him? At all? Like, are you willing to try to be his friend or co-exist or whatever?"

"No," Y/N said firmly. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, they added, "I mean, I used to. A long time ago. But that was before all the shit happened."

Chaewon nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Fair enough. So what’s the problem, then? Just let him down easy and move on. You’re not obligated to feel the same way."

"It’s not that simple," Y/N muttered.

"Why not?" Chaewon pressed.

Y/N hesitated, her thoughts swirling. "Because.."

"Ah. Wait– I see." Chaewon’s eyes lit up with understanding. She leaned back, a sly grin spreading across her face. "So that’s what’s really going on."

"Don’t," Y/N warned, but Chaewon was already on a roll.

"Vernon comes out to a party for the first time in forever, and suddenly you’re out here sharing a joint and having heart-to-hearts. Sounds pretty romantic if you ask me."

"It’s not like that," Y/N said firmly, but even she didn’t sound convinced.

"Sure it’s not," Chaewon said, rolling her eyes. "Listen, Y/N. You’re my friend, so I’m going to give it to you straight. You’ve spent so much time worrying about everyone else’s feelings—Seungcheol’s, Vernon’s, whoever’s—that you’re forgetting to think about your own. So what do you want?"

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come.

Chaewon took one last drag from the joint before stubbing it out on the porch step. "Figure it out, my baby girl. Because if you don’t, someone’s going to get hurt. And it’s probably going to be you."

With that, she stood up, smoothing out her skirt and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"Oh, and one more thing," she added, glancing back at Y/N. "You’re a fucking catch and if you don’t see that by now, you’re even denser than I thought."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, but before she could respond, Chaewon grabbed her hand pulling her back inside and distract her with the party.

The night didn’t end on the porch for Y/N. By the time she re-entered the house after her conversation with Chaewon, the energy of her day had shifted into something more chaotic but liberating. The dim lighting and thumping bass created a atmosphere that wrapped Y/N in its haze, making her forget her issues even just momentarily 

Mingyu was now on the coffee table, dancing without a care, and Yuqi had somehow coerced Hoshi into an impromptu dance-off. Wonwoo, seated on the couch, shook his head at them, nursing a drink with a quiet grin.

“Y/N! Finally!” Yuqi shouted over the music when she spotted her, grabbing her arm and dragging her into the middle of the room. “You’ve been moping for too long. Time to drink.”

“I wasn’t moping—” Y/N began to protest, but Yuqi cut her off by twirling her into a spin.

“Yes, you were, you little lying whore. But not anymore.”

As the music shifted to an upbeat track, Y/N decided to let go, her earlier tension melting into the rhythm. She danced, laughing with Yuqi, dodging Mingyu’s wild arm movements, and matching Hoshi’s exaggerated moves just to get a rise out of him.

Chaewon appeared by her side, her hair slightly disheveled but her grin wide. “See? Told you this party would be good for you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. “Yeah, yeah. You’re always right, aren’t you?”

“Don’t you forget it,” Chaewon quipped, raising her cup in a mock toast.

As the song changed again, Vernon emerged from the kitchen with a red solo cup in hand, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Y/N. He didn’t join them at first but leaned casually against the wall, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her laugh and dance.

“Are you going to stand there looking mysterious, or are you going to stop being a little bitch and join us?” Y/N called out to him, her breathless voice cutting through the music.

Vernon chuckled but shook his head. “Na, I love being a little bitch.”

“Oh, come on.” Yuqi chimed in, grabbing his wrist and attempting to pull him into the middle of their circle. “You can’t just stand there looking cool. It’s fucking illegal.”

Vernon resisted for a moment before reluctantly stepping forward. “People do assume I’m a bad boy, officer.” he said dryly.

The group cheered as Vernon finally joined in, his movements understated but in perfect sync with the beat. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone, which somehow made him even more magnetic. Y/N caught herself watching him a little too closely.

At some point, Mingyu decided it was time for shots and disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a tray of tiny glasses. “One for everyone.” he declared.

Y/N hesitated, but Chaewon nudged her. “Just one. Come on.”

With an eye roll, Y/N accepted the glass, clinking it against Chaewon’s before downing the liquid. It burned on the way down, but the warmth that spread through her chest was worth it.

The night blurred after that, a mix of laughter, terrible karaoke when Yuqi found a microphone, and group photos that would undoubtedly resurface in their group chat the next day. At one point, Y/N found herself sitting on the floor, her back against the couch, as Chaewon rested her head on her shoulder.

“You look lighter,” Chaewon said quietly, her voice cutting through the noise.

“Maybe I am,” Y/N admitted, glancing around the room. “I think I needed this.”

Chaewon smiled, her eyes warm with understanding. “You’re welcome.”

As the night stretched into the early hours, the group gradually began to disperse, some collapsing into makeshift beds while others lingered to talk. Y/N found herself sitting by Vernon again, this time in the living room, the noise of the party replaced by a comfortable silence.

“Told you I’d see you later,” Vernon said softly, nudging her shoulder with his.

Y/N smiled, resting her head against the couch. “I’m glad you came out tonight.”

“Me too,” he replied, his voice steady but tinged with something she couldn’t quite place.

“How has everything been? Med School finally getting the baddies down?” 

Vernon just laughed and nodded his head, before he could get another word out Seungcheol entered the room and stopped in his tracks redirecting his attention from his phone to Y/n and Vernon sitting together, Hoshi sleeping on their feet like a small dog. 

“Hey guys.” Seungcheol called out quietly, creeping over, trying to not disturb Hoshi as he walked passed and sat on the couch to Vernons side. 

“Hey.” The pair just mumbled at the same time, now noticing the awkward shift in the energy. 

Vernon stood up and turned his head to y/n, ignoring the other boy's presence. “I’m going to carry this one to his room, you good?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure to come back.” Y/n giggled knowing Vernon wouldn’t leave her hanging for too long. 

“Don’t miss me too much.” As Vernon hoisted a half-asleep Hoshi into his arms, he shot Y/N a wink before making his way out of the room, leaving her and Seungcheol alone. The air seemed to grow heavier the moment the door clicked shut, the silence now sharp and charged.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the couch, suddenly hyper-aware of Seungcheol sitting just a foot away. He leaned back against the cushions, his hands clasped together as he stared at the coffee table.

"So..." Seungcheol started, his voice tentative, breaking the uneasy silence. "You and Vernon seem close."

Y/N glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "We’ve been friends for a really long time, yeah. Why?"

He shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "No reason, I guess."

Y/N wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she let the comment hang in the air.

Seungcheol hesitated, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look, I know this is awkward. I wasn’t trying to interrupt anything."

"You didn’t," Y/N said quickly, though her tone was clipped

“So you guys aren’t da—” 

“No. Just two old friends.” Y/n gave him a smile just out of politeness trying to not lead on too much that she had an extreme desire to not be around him. 

“How did you guys meet?” 

Y/N knew the answer didn’t need much thought, but the weight of the conversation—and what it might lead to—hung heavily in her chest. She forced a smile, her fingers idly picking at the hem of her sleeve. "It was forever ago. Our moms were childhood friends. Vernon and I practically grew up together."

"Ah," Seungcheol said with a slow nod. "That explains it. You guys have that effortless thing. Like you’ve known each other forever."

There was something about the way he said it—soft, almost wistful—that made Y/N narrow her eyes. She didn’t like where this was going. "Yeah, I guess we do, but you knew that didn’t you? Why are you pretending to not know me? To manipulate me to make my life hell again? What?" she said, her tone neutral.

Seungcheol leaned back against the couch, studying her. "I don’t remember you mentioning him much back in high school."

Y/N let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Maybe because every time I tried, I’d get interrupted by someone making my life hell?"

The jab landed hard, judging by the way Seungcheol flinched. His lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out.

"Sorry, but you know it's true." Y/N said quickly, though her tone was anything but apologetic. 

"No, you’re right," Seungcheol admitted, his voice quieter now. "I deserve that."

Y/N looked at him, her expression unreadable. Part of her wanted to push further, to let him feel even a fraction of the frustration and hurt she’d bottled up for years. But another part of her—the part that was sick of carrying that weight—wanted to let it go.

"Why do you care so much about Vernon, anyway?" she asked suddenly, her voice sharper than she intended.

Seungcheol seemed taken aback by the question. He hesitated for a moment before answering. "I don’t. Not like that. I guess I just wanted to know more about the people you let in."

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. "Why does it matter to you who I let in?"

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. Then he let out a breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Because I used to be one of those people," he said quietly.

Y/N froze, his words hitting her like a punch to the gut. She wanted to deny it, to tell him he’d never really been "in." But the truth was more complicated than that, and she hated it.

"You were one of those people," she said finally, her voice steady but cold. "And then you weren’t. That’s on you."

“Look,” he began, his tone uncharacteristically unsure. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the couch. “Everything?”

“You know what I mean,” he said, his voice quieter now. “High school. What my friends did to you. What I did to you. It was—”

“Cruel,” Y/N interrupted, their tone sharper than she intended. “You humiliated me, Seungcheol. You and your friends took something personal, something I trusted you with, and ruined my fucking life for a long time.”

Seungcheol winced, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I know. And I’ve been carrying that guilt with me for years.”

Y/N laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You’ve been carrying guilt? Try carrying the humiliation of walking into school and having everyone know something you didn’t want them to. Of being laughed at, whispered about, avoided. You think your guilt compares to that?”

“I’m not saying it does,” Seungcheol said quickly, his voice desperate. “I just… I need you to know that I regret it. I regret all of it. And if I could take it back, I would.”

Y/N stared at him, her chest tightening with the weight of old memories. Memories of tear-streaked nights and the sting of betrayal.

“What do you want from me, Seungcheol?” she asked finally, her voice low. “Do you want me to forgive you? To say it’s all water under the bridge?” 

He looked up at them then, his expression raw. “I just want you to know I’m sorry. That I’ve changed. That I never meant to hurt you the way I did.”

Y/N felt her defenses waiver, but the anger bubbling beneath the surface was hard to ignore. "You can regret it all you want," she said finally, her voice steady. "But that doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t change who you were back then. People say they change, but they often don’t. You don’t just get to say you’re sorry and expect everything to be okay.”

“I’m not expecting that,” Seungcheol said softly. “I just… I needed you to hear it. Even if it doesn’t mean anything to you.”

There was a long silence, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Finally, Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair.

 Seungcheol's gaze dropped to the floor. "I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. And I’ve spent years regretting it."

"Regret doesn’t fix anything," Y/N shot back.

"I’m not trying to fix it," he said, looking up at her now, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. Desperation? Guilt? "I just don't want you to think I didn’t care. Because I did. I do."

The room felt impossibly still, the weight of his words pressing down on Y/N’s chest. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if there was anything to say.

"You had a funny way of showing it," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I was an idiot," Seungcheol admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "I cared too much about what other people thought. I let them get in my head, and I let you down. I’ll never stop regretting that."

Y/N stared at him, her emotions warring inside her. She wanted to believe him, to let his apology wash away the years of hurt. But she couldn’t ignore the voice in her head reminding her of all the times he hadn’t stood up for her, hadn’t been there when she needed him most.

 "I wish I could go back and do things differently."

Y/N looked away, her throat tight. "Well, you can’t. And honestly, I’m not sure it would make a difference even if you could."

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Y/N stood abruptly, needing to put some distance between them.

"I’m going to check on my friends," she said, avoiding Seungcheol’s gaze.

He stood too, his movements hesitant. "Y/N..."

She turned to look at him, her expression unreadable. "What?"

"I’m sorry," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N didn’t respond. She just turned and walked out of the room, leaving Seungcheol alone. 

The hallway was quieter now, most of the partygoers either gone or passed out in various corners of the house. She made her way towards Hoshi’s room where Vernon had carried him to earlier, her steps quick and purposeful, as though walking faster might help her shake off the weight of the conversation with Seungcheol.

When she reached the door, it was slightly open, and she could hear Vernon’s low voice murmuring something. She pushed it open gently and found him sitting on the edge of the bed, tucking Hoshi under a blanket. Hoshi was completely out cold, sprawled across the mattress like a starfish.

"Hey," Vernon said softly, glancing up at her as she stepped inside. His voice was calm, but his eyes scanned her face, picking up on the lingering tension she hadn’t quite hidden. "You okay?"

Y/N nodded automatically but then hesitated. She let out a shaky breath, leaning against the doorframe. "Seungcheol," she said simply, her tone carrying all the weight of what had just happened.

Vernon frowned slightly, standing up and walking toward her. "What did he say?"

She crossed her arms, her gaze dropping to the floor. "He tried to apologize. Again. Said he regretted everything. But I don’t know… It’s just—he doesn’t get to do that, you know? He doesn’t get to say sorry and expect it to fix everything."

Vernon nodded, his expression serious as he leaned against the wall beside her. "You’re right. He doesn’t."

Y/N looked up at him, searching his face for something—validation, reassurance, anything to help her make sense of the storm in her head. "But a part of me… I don’t know, Vern. A part of me feels like maybe I should just let it go. For me, not for him."

He tilted his head, considering her words. "Letting it go doesn’t mean forgiving him or forgetting what happened. It just means you’re not carrying it around anymore."

"Yeah, but how do I do that?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly. "How do I let it go when it’s just… there? Like this permanent scar."

Vernon reached out, his hand brushing lightly against her arm. "You don’t have to do it all at once," he said gently. "It’s not about pretending it didn’t hurt or that it wasn’t real. It’s about giving yourself permission to move forward, at your own pace."

His words were like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her emotions. She let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes. "When did you get so wise?"

He grinned, the warmth in his smile instantly making her feel lighter. "Med school, obviously. They teach you all kinds of emotional shit there."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help smiling. "Right. Emotional bandages 101."

"Exactly," he said, his tone playful but his eyes still soft and steady on hers.

For a moment, they just stood there, the quiet hum of Hoshi's snoring wrapping around them like a cocoon. Y/N felt the tension in her chest begin to ease, replaced by a comforting sense of safety.

"Come on," Vernon said suddenly, straightening up and taking her hand. "Let’s go."

She blinked, caught off guard. "What? Where?"

"Anywhere," he said with a shrug. "The backyard, the porch, I don’t care. You need a breather, and honestly, so do I. Plus, I think Hoshi might start snoring louder any second now, and I’m not ready for that."

Y/N laughed, the sound breaking through the heaviness she’d been carrying all night. "Alright. He’s lucky he’s cute."

They slipped out of the room quietly, making their way to the back porch. The cool night air hit her skin like a refreshing wave, and she breathed deeply, letting it fill her lungs. Vernon let go of her hand but stayed close, leaning against the railing as they looked out at the quiet yard.

"You always know how to make things feel less complicated," Y/N said after a moment, her voice soft.

"That’s because they’re not as complicated as you think," Vernon replied, his tone light but sincere.

She glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You make it sound so easy."

"It’s not," he admitted. "But you don’t have to figure it all out tonight. Just be here. With me. Right now."

Y/N nodded, the tension in her shoulders melting away as she leaned against him as he enveloped her in his arms. The stars above them shimmered faintly, and for the first time that night, she felt like she could breathe again.

As the silence stretched between them, comfortable and unspoken, she realized just how grateful she was for her friends—for their steady presence, the unwavering support, and the way they always seemed to know exactly what she needed, even when she didn’t.

note: hi. omg. I really did drop the ball on posting this for a hot second, but we will be back to our regularly scheduled programming from now on <3

taglist: @minhui896@sun-daddy-yoriichi@luchiet@miles-sketchbook@kissesfrmwonwoo@readerlozies@vcutparis@mxnhoeuwu@writingbarnes@headlockimnida@odxrilove@jeonghaniehaee@bath1lda @wonwootakemyheart @dokyomis@hanniesdegree @blvkkeddcc@gyuguys @rakshithanotrao @multiplumes

[hwonnrinji]

i looked at ur works and was like.. yo. ANYWAYS do u make like those imagines or thoughts thing whatever it's called? if so, pls pls pls make one for how the kats let yoonchae sleep on them when she gets too tired (based on what sophia said abt her being able to sleep anywhere)

also can i be 🐹 anon

this is my first impression of you btw BUT WE 🆙⁉️💯 p.s. the fics rotting in my drafts will (hopefully) be posted next week since i have break, this was the quickest thing i can do for rn 🙏

i also believe yoonchae is rlly cuddly in secret

SLEEPYHEAD ~ J.YC

sophia ; she's not keen on skinship. she'll probably just stand there with her hand out, holding yoonchae's head while the younger is getting her makeup done so 1; the makeup artist doesn't have to constantly wake her up to finish the look, and 2; she has something at least little more comfortable than a chair that's not high enough to lay her head on. yoonchae is super grateful that sophia does this so her neck doesn't feel like crap afterwards. though there are times sophia will let yoonchae be held by her, preferring to be big spoon because it will deter her pride and ego if she were to ever be little spoon.

manon ; whenever yoonchae is in the mood for a nap and wants to cuddle up but the majority of the kats are gone or busy, she can and will always find manon on the couch either watching tv or doing something on her phone. yoonchae will just go up to manon and sit down next her, curling up against the older and falling asleep with her cheek resting on manon's shoulder. (manon loves this ofc and habitually pat yoonchae's knee so she falls asleep faster)

daniela ; during practice, yoonchae gets exhausted the fastest and needs extra sleep for energy. daniela is the first one to notice every time and will request at least a 20 min break for yoonchae. daniela knows to dim the lights and sit on the ground with her legs straight, yoonchae immediately laying down– on her back or sideways– and rests her head on daniela's lap. the older will play with her hair while humming yoonchae's fav songs softly. (it's so common, the staffs fixed the schedules so there's a 20-30 min block titled 'yoonchip's break')

lara ; yoonchae is the most cuddly with lara, fight me if you disagree. like she'll go into lara and megan's room and slip into bed with lara. the older always accepts with wide, open arms, tucking the younger's head under her chin. yoonchae willingly buries her face into lara's collarbone or neck, occasionally taking deep breaths to take in the scent of lara's clothes that she finds really, really comforting. instead of humming, lara will probably sing some wave to earth song, running her hand through yoonchae's hair, twirling it before letting it go.

megan ; her and yoonchae always sit next to each other in the company van or car idk whether the others like it or not. yoonchae falls asleep the fastest while in a moving vehicle, her eyes drooping five minutes into the trip. megan offers her shoulder, which yoonchae quickly accepts, dropping her head onto the shoulder and closing her eyes. megan also likes holding yoonchae's hand so she usually finds herself running her thumb over yoonchae's knuckles or just having their hand(s) intertwined in general while the youngest sleeps.

~~~

i love yoonchae.

[stormyelliotwritez]

HAIIIIII can i request something heheheh if yes TYSMMMM and my request isss deadpool and wolverine x chubby feminine male reader and male reader is like insecure about his body and femininity and wade and logan makes sure to let him know that hes beautiful inside and out hehe i havent really seen much x chubby male reader lately nor at all and i have been feeling down about my weight(again) and i would reallllyyyyy appreciate if u can do this request hhee but if u dont thats fine aswell TYSMMMM ONCE AGAINNNNN AND TAKE CAREEEE💖💖💖💖💖

YEAH I CAN!!!! im assuming you want cis male reader but if you were looking for trans, i can rewrite stuff!

sorry it took so long! depression has been kicking my ass recently

warnings for bullying, body dysmorphia, mean self talk and thoughts revolving around hating how you look, use of feminine pet names for reader

You’re their princess!

poolverine x chubby feminine male reader

You’d been curled up in bed since that morning when you’d swear that those teenagers were laughing about you. You’d been wearing a cute pink hello kitty shirt and the skirt Wade had got you. You’d told him over and over again that it was too short but he’d insisted that you were as cute as a button. Logan had said so too so you wore it but then those teenagers…

Logan and Wade hadn’t gotten home yet so you just laid in bed, covered to your neck. You didn’t wanna look at yourself. You’d thrown the skirt and shirt onto the floor and changed into Logan’s hoodie that was way too big for you. It covered everything and that was your only comfort. You just felt so insecure right now.

You must have drifted off because you jolted awake when the front door slammed. Your boyfriend’s voices drifted up into your ears and you burrowed deeper into the blankets. You didn’t want them to see you like this. You rolled over to face the wall and pretended to be asleep.

Wade poked his head into you guys bedroom and watched you for a moment before beckoning Logan over. You heard his footsteps and wanted to turn back over but your make up was messy and you didn’t wanna look at yourself in the mirror.

“He’s so cute, ain’t he, Logie? I just wanna kiss our baby all over his beautiful body,” Wade said with a sweet smile as he locked his hand in Logans.

Logan grunted a yes and nodded as he leaned against the doorframe. “He asleep?” He grunted.

You tried to stay still and quiet. You just wanted to stay in bed without them trying to make you feel better.

Wade chuckled and let go of Logan’s hand. He walked over to the bed and poked you in the shoulder. You jumped and squealed into your pillow.

“Awwwww, baby’s awake!” He said with a giggle before crawling onto the bed and pulling you into his lap with great difficulty coz you didn’t wanna move.

He nudged your face so he could see you and his face dropped when he did. “Baby, why’s your makeup like that?”

Logan had been watching from the doorframe but when Wade said that, he quickly closed the gap between him and the bed. He climbed on the bed and when he saw your tear streaked face, there was murder in his eyes. “Who hurt you, doll?”

You flinched away from him when he said that.

“Don’t call me that. It’s stupid. I can’t look like a girl! I’m too chubby and it doesn’t look right and I should just bite the bullet and dress like a guy,” you rambled, faster than Wade, as you tried to turn away again.

Wade and Logan immediately jumped into gotta fix this mode. Before you even knew what was going on, Wade had pulled the blanket off you and Logan had taken you off him and settled you on his lap. Wade hopped off the bed and picked up your clothes and put them in the washing basket. He grabbed one of your cute pink hoodies and those hello kitty pj pants you liked so much and laid them out on the end of the bed.

“They’re for when we get ya feeling better. Can’t have you drowning in Logan’s hoodie,” he said with a sad smile as he sat back down.

Logan stroked your hair and grabbed a make up wipe off the bedside table. He gently wiped away your makeup and murmured sweet nothings into your ear. The ickyness started to subside but you still felt it. It was still there in your stomach and the back of your mind, waiting for them to leave so you could cry some more.

“We ain’t gonna make you hash it out, sweetheart. You don’t gotta tell us a thing, okay? But can you let us say somethings?” Wade asked gently as he took ahold of your hands.

Everything in you wanted to say no. They were just taking pity on you. Why would anyone like you? You weren’t skinny and you were too girly. But slowly you nodded.

Wade smiled and tilted his head. “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever set my eyes on, you know. When we first met, I just knew that I wanted you and when you spoke and your heart shone through, I knew it even more.”

That was a lot more sincere than you were expecting but you still felt icky. They’d leave soon. Tears started to well up in your eyes but before you could wipe them away, Logan did so.

“We love you, pretty boy. We’ll always love you. You’re the most feminine badass I know and you’re not too chubby. You’re just the right amount. You’re perfect cuddle size, sweetheart,” Logan said with the most gentle smile.

You were crying now. How’d they always accept you when it seemed nobody else did? Logan wiped away your tears and after getting a nod from you, Wade gently pulled Log’s hoodie off you. As he picked up your hoodie, Logan leaned down and pressed a kiss to your tummy.

“You’re the most beautiful princess out there, baby. You can be a man and still be pretty and you can be chubby. You’re not too chubby, okay? We’re gonna love you always,” Logan reminded you.

Wade helped you into the hoodie and then into the pants. Logan then helped you lay down and he cradled you against his chest. Wade snuggled up against you, his arms around your waist, tracing hearts on your tummy.

“We love you, baby,” Wade said with a giggle.

The three of you drifted off to sleep and that icky feeling left for a while longer.

[gloomuri671]

Entry #??

Sae Itoshi x Reader

A/N: I got this entry from my order brother. He found it and went through the trouble of translating it to English for us. Everyone say, "Thank you, Idy." Now I owe him those nine hundred gems... Haha 🥲

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Entry #??

I'm an asshole.

I've always know that, people tell me all the time. Not her, though. Y/n L/n, my best friend, has never once thought me in such a bad light. Which is why I'm an asshole. Because I dream of her. I crave her.

"A man could offer me millions of diamonds, but all I'd care about are the ones watching me right now. Looking at me with a hunger I'd only ever fantasize about. Such precious jewels and right now they're all mine," she mumbled in a daze. Her pussy grinding on mine. Oh my fucking.... "All yours," I whispered to her, desperately holding back a whimper. "Oh my god," she gasped. Was she not supposed to say that out loud? Adorable. "All fuching yours," I said again, planting kisses on her neck. These fucking clothes are in my way. Would she be mad if I ripped them off? "Always been," I whispered in her ear, grinding us closer together. Can't I just stay here forever?

"Another dream," I mumbled. Ah, yes, my little secret. I fantasize about my best friend. A guilty pleasure and why I'm an asshole. Because while she's unaware and sleeping peacefully at night, I'm stroking myself to the thought of her. Edging myself to the thought that maybe she'd use her hand like this: slow, with a rhythm she hums to herself so innocently. That same hum she makes up when she's concentrating on something so intently. Or maybe she'd have mercy on me and speed up a bit. Her hands are smaller than mine, but I know they would feel so much better wrapped around me. I see her under me, her nails scratching at my back. Those same nails she got done recently with Margret. I can almost feel it.

Only this time, the dream almost felt.. real? I haven't heard her openly compliment my eyes since we met. But it was so refreshing to hear. Something screams in me, wanting me believe it wasn't a dream. Oh Lord have mercy on me. "Fuck," I muttered. "How stupid can I be?"

Lately, Y/n's been weird. She's always been weird, but today she's weirder than usual - her and those two idiots. I cornered Jordan during soccer practice to hopefully get some answers. If something's wrong with her, why didn't she tell me? "What the hell is going on with Y/n?" I asked bluntly. He visibly got nervous, it makes me realize he hasn't been so nervous around me anymore until now. Was that her doing? "U-umm I don't know what your talking about, dude," he said, "Y/n's been the same old N/n since she was a tot."

Was he seriously trying to lie to my face? "Tell me," I demanded. "Look, babe," he sighed, "Your girl is probably on her period. Give her some space would you? She'll come around when she's ready." I quirked a brow at that. Does he think I'm stupid? I'm not stupid. Was he really trying to blame this on her menstrual cycle? "No she's not," I told him, "I have her cycle on on my phone. She doesn't get them until two weeks from now." His once nonchalant facade faded ever so slowly.

"Even if she was, she wouldn't have ghosted me this weekend," I said. It's true. Y/n comes through my door whenever her period starts. It's one of the reasons I'm paying forty dollars a year on "Flo" to keep track of her cycle. Because, Lord knows, that girl will raid my fridge for my ice cream and will claim all my hoodies. She'd never know I only stock up on ice cream three days before in advance for her. Another secret that will never come to light.

Jordan continued to avoid me question, but now it was clear. Something is going on with my Y/n...and it might have something to do with me. "Did I do something wrong last Friday?" I interrogated. "More like something right," he muttered, but I caught it. "Something right?" I wondered. He panicked and looked around. "Look, Sae," he sighed, "Nothing's wrong. She's just stuck in her head at the moment. Got something on her mind. You know how much of an air head N/n can be." I just turned around and went to the benches. I relaxed a bit knowing I didn't fuck up somewhere between drink number one and Saturday morning.

When I sat down, two hands gently started massaging my shoulders. My eyes widened, but relaxed when she started speaking. "You did great out there," Y/n said, "Like always of course." Something's changed. She's never done this before. I could here some of those lukewarm atheletes hollering and cheering for me in the back. I couldn't careless. "I know," I said, "I've got something to tell you later. Come over tomorrow?"

"Sure, but why tomorrow? Can't I come over today?" She wondered. Of course you could. That's why I gave you a key in the first place. "I've got to do laundry today," I told her. Her grip slightly tightened on my shoulders making me sigh. "Oh," she muttered.

I groaned when she hit a certain spot, such dangerous hands. How could such an innocent woman have such dangerous hands? She kept on for a while, the team huddled on the other side, then she let up. "Thought you might've needed that," Y/n explained. You have no idea. "It was good," I said. She smiled at me then my vision flashed.

She cradled my face with one hand while sat on my lap. She smiled at me. "There's those pretty eyes," she whispered, "So handsome." ... Fucking hell. I almost came right then and there.

My eyes widened and I cough into my jersey. "You okay?" Y/n asked me, "You're being weird today." So are you, I wanted to say, but I held back. "Nothing, I'm just remembered something," I explained. She looked at me weirdly and nodded slowly. What's going on in that beautiful mind?

On the way home, I noticed Jordan following me. "Your house is the other way," I reminded. He caught up a and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I want to hang out with my friend," he said. Is he serious? I side-eyed him before saying, "I'm not interested." Jordan let out an offensive gasp before slapping my shoulder. "So am I," he said, "I'm gay, but not for you, babe. I'm just here to hang out with you because sugar tits is worried about you." I raised an eyebrow at that. Worried about me?

As soon as I open the door, Jordan makes a dash for my bathroom. I clicked my tongue and made a dash for the room too. I take the laundry basket from his hands before he could even attempt to make it for the washing machine. "Fess up, Lujan," I commanded, "Why do want to wash my clothes cause I swear it's because of Margaret-"

"What?! Ew no!"

"Then Y/n?"

"Well-"

"Fess up," I commanded, "Or else I'm telling Y/n about that little Japanese boy you've been texting." He paled at that before trying to come up with words to say after that. "Umm.. You... She... Ummm... Why didn't she choose Margaret!? UGH! Just look in the basket!" He let up. Well that wasn't so hard. It's not like the girls don't already know about the Japanese boy. If they weren't already set on sports then they would've been good FBI agents.

I open up the hamper and search through the clothes until my hand felt... Damp... Slowly I look at the trousers I held in my hands... Oh boy... "We-"

"Yep... Last Friday actually."

All I know is we definitely have to talk.

Idia: I'm never doing this again. Do you know the type of stuff he writes when it comes to her? I would've thought it was a soccer journal if not for the... Other stuff.

Me: Well I need the other stuff. Plz?

Idia: No.

Me:Everyone say "Thank you, Idy!" If you want another Entry from Sae!

Idia:I never agreed-

Me: Please?

Idia:... Fine.

[white-collar-cannibal]

@glsneeg-enthusiast when i say unedited. well folks many of these sentences are completely unconnected from each other or unfinished. line break with ellipsis for different scenes, ellipses inline for same scene but cut up lines. anyway have a Snack i'm never ever finishing this (it straight up has no plot.)

The first time he met Frank, Sneeg was dying, which was terribly usual. Niki was dead already, having crawled over to lay her head on his lap, and bled out from the throat and the chest and the stomach until she was still. 

[...]

He scoffed a little, and laughed a little, and he said, with half of a smile in his voice, “God.” 

He probably was making an expression of some kind, but Sneeg could not summon the energy or the will to look away from the knuckle of his hand. His face was probably doing the thing where his eyes got too big and he looked very strongly and scarily at something, because he was thinking too much to remember the rules about eye contact and about not staring. It was becoming a problem lately. 

[...]

Everyone made a big deal of Frank having quite a lot of tattoos, but Sneeg very rarely saw them at all. It had only really been one time. [...] It was a bit hard to tell, since it was said mostly for the enjoyment of saying it and not for other people to hear, but he thought it started out, “Motherfucking goddamn piece of shit capitalists can’t pay for air conditioning nasty bastards weren’t making enough already not paying their goddamn workers I swear,” 

With the jacket off, Sneeg could see that each of his arms were marked over with drawings which ran the gamut from crude drawings of various small animals and sigils and skulls, the lines bleeding out into the surrounding skin in inky aurora, to the fine scales of what seemed a very well done snake, which wrapped the circumference of a heavy arm before disappearing up the sleeve of the shirt.

Sneeg looked away a bit quickly — the back of his neck felt hot and red and embarrassed — but then Niki was looking at *him*, first with no expression at all, then at seeing him returning eye contact, she pinched her lips together slightly, and raised both eyebrows together in a movement that could have been categorized on the scale of glaciers. Her eyes, nearly gray as slate rock in the corridor dimness, were rimed with humor. Sneeg tried to pinch his eyebrows together in the same kind of miniature, dollhouse expression, to say *What? Huh?*, but all Niki did in return was a kind of U-turn of the eyebrows, up and down, back into her resting *a bit pissed off* aspect, and opened her hand outwards so that Sneeg could see the inside of her palm, then closed it again. 

From beside them, a thick voice said, “If you two have developed telepathy without me, I’m going to be so pissed.” The two withered slightly, like they had been caught eating worms or something equally difficult to explain, at the reminder that Frank was, in fact, still in the room with them. 

Niki blinked once. “Too late. We’ve already synched our mental illness frequencies.” Then she added, “*And* our cycles.”

Frank gave her a perfect jigsaw-puzzle smile, and went back to tying the jacket about his waist, which was good since Sneeg felt he might simply explode if anyone else acknowledged that he existed at the moment.

[...]

They sat in triangles, but when they walked Sneeg and Niki would stand on either side of Frank, which was half borne from respect and half to make sure that someone could always help him if his bad leg acted up again. He was always the center of both their orbits, because he was the only one who remembered anything.

Frank remembered because Austin remembered, and they had been Taken at the same time. Niki and Ethan remembered very little, and Sneeg and Charlie remembered nothing at all. He tried to hide this at first, but there was only so far you could really get with knowing when to nod your head, and when to go *mhmm* and *wow* conversationally before people started to notice that you did not know at all what they were talking about.

[...]

Niki liked *right hand* and *second-in-command* much more than she had liked *pumpkin*, but she still tolerated *string cheese* most days. When she was doing very badly, she would sit next to Frank, and lean her head on his shoulder, and he would put his arm around her, or in her hair, and go, *Aww, Kalashnikova, grenade, my favorite landmine, you’re okay* and she would feel better, even if it embarrassed her a bit afterwards. 

Sneeg loved *pumpkin* very much, and he extended the same affection to each and every other term his friends deigned upon him — even the ones in different languages, because he could trust that they meant something good and nice, and that was such a great relief.

Niki only ever called the two of them their names, or *boss*, which Frank had resented at first, but she said “If everyone calls everyone else boss, then it’s good and communist again,” and he relented. Sneeg had not processed enough about communism to argue, even though her maths didn’t seem to add up.

Frank talked a lot about communism, and Niki listened intently, but unless he was willing to sit down and really think about it, and interrupt way too often by asking about what *capital* was again, or *landlord*, or *materialism,* all Sneeg really got out of it was to hear the sound of Frank’s voice. It was a good voice though, which sounded a bit like he had eaten gravel, which was from the smoking, and forgot often that there were R’s in words, which was from the being raised in New York, so it was not a bad deal at all. 

All of Frank’s characters smoked, because Showfall thought it looked cool, so he did too. He’d toughed it out for two entire months, but they were still making him on set, so he couldn’t actually quit and then he got a migraine so bad he was worried he was going to go blind, and gave up.

“It’s not like they’re gonna let me get *lung cancer,*” he said, “I’m an *asset.*” He only did it once or twice a day, unless something exceptionally bad had happened, and Niki always took the opportunity to step away for five minutes, because the smell was intolerable to her, and look over her map, or lay on the ground like a starfish, and do her breathing exercises. She came up with long, prime number in-hold-out-hold sequences, because she had to be thinking about something at all times or she’d lose it. She said there was never any empty space in her mind, and if she didn’t fill it with something, the horrors would start crawling out of the little boxes she’d put them in.

Neither of them ever touched Niki without her asking anymore, since Frank had tapped her on the shoulder in passing and she worked herself up into such a fit that she spat up blood. 

Niki knew perfectly how to ask, though. She would tilt her head, very lightly, so the long strands of her uncut hair — often brown, sometimes blonde, rarely another color — would fall over her face, and either of the two could see this, and know to take the side of her head in their hand and to kiss the edge where the hair began on the forehead. 

[...]

Sneeg knew which of the cameras worked, and which didn’t, and which you could pass by if you walked by them at a calm pace with your face turned away, and he knew when the break rooms were full, and when you could pass through certain alley-paths. He had spent his entire childhood learning this, and now it made up for the fact that he was dreadfully, interminably, fucking stupid.

Sneeg did not know most of what an adult person was supposed to, on account of the everything, and he hadn’t even known it until he had began talking to the two of them. 

[...]

Frank and Niki were both pretty, but in different ways, like how a pretty painting might look nothing like a pretty tea kettle. No one else thought so, but Sneeg knew Frank was pretty. Showfall didn’t think so, because they only ever made him a side character, and none of those side characters ever had anyone kiss them. Austin said that he looked like a mobster, and Charlie had said that Frank had the face of a bulldog that had been at the business end of a sledgehammer, and Niki only said that he had a face that was perfectly adequate since it did all the things it needed to, but she was secretly jealous of him. 

Sneeg had eyes that worked though, and Frank had a face that was very nice to look at, with a big, crooked nose, and a lot of thin lines around the eyes and the mouth, and very interesting teeth. Everyone else only ever had teeth like white plastic ice trays, but his seemed to be arguing with each other about which should be where, in a way that made you want to put your hand in his mouth to figure out exactly what was going on three-dimensionally. 

[...] Her face did not find itself naturally upset, which made her near-permanent furrowed brow and curled lip intentional, a prolonged muscle contraction in service of worry and fury and disgust.

Everyone knew Niki was pretty. She loathed it. She treated pretty like an unfortunate congenital condition she was afflicted with, and only ever talked about other people in flat, neutral terms, like an anatomist. This hatred was not entirely unjustified, because Showfall loved you more if they thought you were pretty, and they cast you as love interests and romcom protagonists.

[...]

She had, nearly instantly, been sick on the tile.

He put his hand out, flat, eye-level, and she bit into where the meat of his thumb met the meat of his palm so hard she drew blood. The metacarpal made a bad noise, and she shook her head, side to side, very quickly, with instinctual zeal, and then let go. 

“Why did you do that?” she had asked, after a moment, and “Why did it *work?*” [...] She was worrying at her arm, and said, “Just tell me if it gets worse. I can live with this, just tell me if it’s going to get worse.”

“It’s not going to get worse. You know how they are with this.”

“You promise? On your life, you promise?”

“On my life, I’ve never seen them do worse, on set or in any of the tapes.” It had made her feel a little bit better, but not much.

[...] , and all she would say was “It’s *my* skin. It’s *my *fucking* skin.*”

[...]

...and, graciously, Niki had said, “Oh God, what’s *butch* again? It’s fallen out of my brain completely,” which was the euphemism she preferred for it.

Frank said, “Masc. Masculine. Like a guy.” and that was such an idea that Niki lit up, immediately. 

[...]

He’d found her once sitting at the edge of an unused fountain, staring into the green and chemical water.

“I got startled the first time they put a mirror on set,” she said, in lieu of a conversation opener, “I couldn’t recognize that it was me.”

He did not know how to answer this, and so didn’t, and in the silence, she turned, and went “When you get out, are you going to try and find your family? Your old family?”

“It would be nicer, neater, I think, if they just thought I died. If I didn’t have to tell them what I’d actually become.”

“You think letting them believe their kid got abducted and murdered is the best idea?”

“Probably. I mean, it’s been years, they’ve gotta be at least a little adjusted to it. The dead kid’s a better story than the miserable adult.” and then, “And why’d you ask? You’ve been thinking about it?”

“Yeah, well.” “Your family has to get that you’re not the seven-year-old they lost, like, in the slightest. But I was like, a *person* when they took me, no offense, and they’ll want me to be that.”

“Sometimes, all I can muster is *I just want to die where they can’t find me*. But I don’t really want to *die*, you know? I just don’t think I know how to live.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I just. I just can’t see it. Me. Having a real, actual life.”

“Then take it on faith. In yourself. In your own continuity.” and then, “You really don’t have to have it yet. Lord knows I don’t— Nick, I don’t remember what the Sun looks like, I have zero clue what I’m going to do. But I’ll find out, you know? I trust my future.”

“Just like that? Has anything good *ever* happened in your life?”

Sneeg thought a bit. “I used to have a dad. That was good. And I met you two, didn’t I?”

[...]

Niki wanted to be his sister very badly, but Sneeg couldn’t do that to anyone else.

[...]

Frank had called him a masochist, and Sneeg had to ask what it meant.

“Somebody who likes getting hurt,” Frank said, and then, in the interest of diligence, “Sometimes it’s a sex thing.” 

If Showfall was prudish otherwise, they were down-right puritanical when it came to sex things, so they always had to specify, even though Sneeg could catch a crass joke with 80% accuracy now, and could make one that was legible if the opportunity presented itself. It had been very embarrassing for all of them at first, but just like every other thing he was supposed to know and didn’t, Frank and Niki had gotten used to explaining things in clear, unfazed terms, and to pretend like it was fine that he didn’t know.

This was probably the best blessing of the manifold blessings that Niki and Frank had granted him: the simple fact that they had gotten quickly over that he did not know shit about fuck, and they explained things to him like he was an equal, instead of a kicked dog following them around. 

[...]

“Written messages. Very good sign” he had said, at about the second or third note they found “Means they’re not having regular meetings. Or casual meetings.”

“Not *that* good.” Niki said, “The ones in the masks have always been the big issue. Doesn’t really matter whether the real ones are walking around.”

“Yeah, right, but it means they’re not *talking.* Less minor information getting through, more arguments. More confusion.”

[...]

“- and, well, Marx thought,” and Sneeg wanted to groan, because Marx never thought anything that did not require at least fifteen minutes of explanation to understand.