#i still feel like asking any kind of sex-related questions as a teenager trying to figure out what's normal and what's not is too weird

[olliegolliegee]

there are like two or three topics that are fucking scary to rant about even on tumblr. like gahhhhhh what if im just whining. or i'm being really weird. or whatever it is is really weird.

[broken-glowsticks]

What Once was Mine

Chapter 11 - When, How, and Why

Genre: Childhood friends, Eventual Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Love corner/love triangle, love rivals, Series.

NOT ALL CHAPTERS WILL BE PROOF READ!!

Warnings: 18+, mdni, mentions of sex and alcohol consumption, additional warnings will be added to individual chapters as needed.

Additional warnings: mentions of explicit sex, loss of virginity, fingering (f receiving), piv, mentions of an underage related, mentions of bruises and bodily harm, slight angst.

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“What do you mean he almost kissed you?!” Felix's deep baritone ricocheted off the walls of his room, immediately followed by your hasty shushing.

“Ssshhhh! Felix, shut your face! I don't want Chan to hear!”

“Chan's elbows deep in work right now, his headphones are basically fused to his head. He's not going to hear anything.” Felix retorted, grabbing your wrists and removing the hands you had shoved against his mouth to shut him up. He didn't let you go, though. “Now spill,” he commanded, pulling you closer, a devious smile on his lips, “what exactly happened?”

With a sigh, you pulled your hands from Felix's grasp. Scooting closer to him on his bed, you tried to keep your voice down as you relayed the events that had happened the previous night.

“No fucking way, you little tease!” Felix basically sang as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, drawing you in to roughly nuzzle you.

“Ow, ow, ow, Felix, knock it off!” You whined, shoving him off you and yanking away the pillow he was leaning on as a form of cover. Felix only giggled.

“Alright, joking aside,” Felix began, once again pulling you in but gentler this time. “How do you feel about what almost happened?”

You sighed. Laying down, you rested your head on Felix's leg, gathering your thoughts as he began to tenderly stroke your hair. How did you really feel about Hyunjin almost kissing you?

“I feel like there's something going on that he's not telling me.”

“Okay, elaborate?”

“Hyunjin… struggles to communicate how he feels, he always has. The sex… always meant more.”

“More for him? I thought it was just something casual?” Felix meant no harm in his questions, genuinely wanting to understand. Before tonight, Felix didn't know Hyunjin as anything other than an obstacle to you and Changbins’ budding relationship. Everything he's ever learned about the guy has come from Jisungs’ blatant and self-admitted biased view. And while you knew Felix was still trying to sort things out, it still stung to be reminded how much you wished the sex with Hyunjin meant something different than it did. But you never pushed. You never dared to expose yourself like that because the entire time you were with him, you knew what those moments meant for Hyunjin.

“Hooking up…” you began, trying to find the words to properly express yourself, “sure, we would sometimes do it for fun or to de-stress, but that's not how it started.”

“Then… how did it start?” Taking your face in his hands, Felix leaned over, meeting his eyes with yours. “If the sex wasn't mainly just for fun, then what made you two start up in the first place?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. You struggled to hold Felix's gaze, but he asked, and you've never spoken about this to anyone, not even Jisung, who's known you since before Hyunjin even re-entered your life. You don't know why you never spoke about it, maybe it was time.

“Alright, let's get some snacks and something to drink, I might get emotional.”

○●♡☆♡●○

You sniffled as you curled yourself further under your fluffy comforter, makeup smearing against your pillow - you didn't care, you were too heartbroken. Tonight was supposed to be the best date of your teenage life, never would you have thought someone from Hyunjins untouchable circle would take any kind of interest in you, you always assumed they thought too highly of themselves based on how they acted in the halls. Turns out you were right.

You had planned this night for days. All dressed up in the new outfit you had gotten at the mall with Jisung and his girlfriend, even tentatively donning the pretty lingerie set you had snuck off to buy in the event things got heated and felt right. Your parents weren't home, set to be gone until some time tomorrow afternoon. You had made a simple dinner and picked out a few movies to possibly rent in the event the night stayed chaste. Everything was all set, yet as time ticked by, you began to worry. When your dates' appointed arrival time came and went, you began to get nervous, texting him and Hyunjin in an attempt to get ahold of the elusive boy.

You weren't expecting Hyunjin to be able to do much, he had mentioned he had plans of his own and would check in whenever he had the time, but so far he had only been able to reply twice - both times before your date was even meant to begin. At least Hyunjin managed to reply at all. You had debated over calling Jisung, but you very much didn't want to deal with the embarrassment of admitting you may have gotten stood up because he was so against the date in the first place, only helping because you expressed it was something you really wanted. Maybe you should call your date? Not wanting to seem clingy and give him the benefit of the doubt you simply assumed his phone had died or something of the sort, leading you to lay on the couch to wait for him, eating chocolate and ice cream with some random YouTube videos playing to fill the dead air as you scrolled social media. That's when you saw it.

You had followed this boy on Instagram a little bit ago, hanging on his every post as a way to glean more knowledge of him, but at this moment you wished you didn't even know about his Instagram page at all. There, at the very top of your feed, was a carousel of images of him at a party, an impossibly gorgeous girl clinging to him like shrink wrap.

A burn scorched your throat as it tightened, your heart dropping to your stomach. Hot, angry tears welled in your eyes as, stupidly, you tapped on his profile picture and pulled up his stories, the time stamp indicating he posted only minutes ago. He looked like he was having so much fun, especially with that girl who was showing up often. The final nail in the coffin was when you saw your would-be date's final story, where - presumably - one of his friends had filmed him explicitly licking whipped cream off the girl's chest. Broken and disgusted, you aggressively dashed away your phone, escaping your room to wallow in your sorrows. You stayed there, sobbing, until you had no more tears to give, seeking solace within the plush embrace of your bed.

You were unsure when you started debating over cleaning up, maybe eating the dinner you made - no point in letting good food go to waste. You had only just managed to sit upright in your bed when you heard the tell-tale sign of a fist thrashing against your door, frequent ringing of your doorbell accompanying. The barrage of noise startled you into place, and you thought about pretending you weren't even home, but the sounds of a well-known voice shouting through the wood eased your nerves.

“Y/N? Beautiful, it's me, open up!!” Hyunjins strained voice shouted, screaming at the top of his lungs in hopes you would be able to hear him regardless of wherever you were hiding in the house.

Wordlessly, you made your way from your bed to the front door, turning on the front light so he knew you were there.

“Hyunjin, what are you-?”

“I'm gonna kill that fucking ass-hole,” Hyunjin growled through grit teeth the moment you opened the door, cutting you off by placing his hands on either side of your face. He could feel his temper rising as he took in your smudged makeup and red, puffy eyes. Despite his rough tone he held your face so gently that you almost began to cry again. “I swear to you, I didn't know he was going to do this.”

“I know it wasn't your fault Jinnie…” you breathed, attempting to remain collected enough to not give into your heartbreak. It wasn't enough, as soon as you opened your mouth to reassure him another sob tore from you and you were once again lost. Hyunjin didn't bat an eye, wrapping himself around you and holding you so tightly it felt as though he was the only thing even remotely keeping you together.

“I knew it was too good to be true, but I still believed that he might like me. That, maybe, I had a chance. God, I feel so stupid, Hyunjin!” You clung to Hyunjins denim jacket as you wailed shamelessly into the collar, “and… and when I saw his stories, how this girl was glued to him… it's dumb and I know I deserve better, but I still couldn't help but wonder why couldn't that be me? Did he think I wasn't good enough, not hot enough? What am I missing that I'm so undesirable to him?”

“Y/N stop,” Hyunjins hands were once again at your face, drawing your gaze to his. “You're beautiful, you know you are. Just because this guy doesn't see it, that doesn't mean it's not true. Hell, you even just said that you know you deserve better.” he said gently, pressing his forehead to yours. “God I'm so fucking angry,” he muttered more to himself than anything, squeezing his eyes shut. How dare this prick of a “friend” hurt you like this, in the exact same way he did?

“I know… I know I deserve better, I'm not ugly, but it's so hard to feel like I'm pretty, that I'm desirable at all, when guys keep rejecting me.”

“All those guys are idiots.” Hyunjin sighed, “I wish I could show you how desirable you really are,” he said in a whisper, his brows furrowed and eyes squeezing tighter. It hurt him so much to hear you speak like that.

“I love you for wanting that, but… I don't see how you could,” you whimpered, placing your hands over his, your glossy eyes drifting over his pained features. Was it just the harsh shadows from the front light, or did he have a couple of bruises on his face?

“I can think of one way,” Hyunjin said, his voice coming out small, almost shy. This surprised you. You couldn't remember the last time he came off as shy.

“What do you mean, Jinnie?” You asked in an equally soft tone, your curiosity and fear of spooking him out of sharing his idea overtaking the uncertainty of the possible bruises on his face.

Hyunjins eyes open slowly, his gaze unreadable. You didn't know what it was, but something about the intensity of his stare made you flush, rendering you speechless. Eventually, the longer you looked, the better you could see it - the internal war he was having with himself. Whatever his thought was, he was unsure over whether or not to follow through. For Hyunjin, he was unsure if this would help or if it was even something you needed. He was worried that after what happened to him tonight, he was focusing too much over what he needed.

“Are you not going to tell me?” You finally asked, trying to goad him into fussing up, “did you change your mind?”

“No, I just… I don't want to upset you.”

“Sounds like you have something risky in mind.”

“That's putting it lightly,” he chuckled, ghosting his thumb over your cheek. “I don't think we'd be the same after, and that scares me, I don't want you to shut me out, Beautiful.”

“Just do it, Jinnie. I know that regardless of whatever you have in mind, you just want to help. I could never be upset at you for that.”

“Are you sure?” He rasped, snaking one of his arms around your waist. Your pulse thudded at his actions, but after a stiff swallow, you nodded anyway.

“I'm sure Hyunjin, I trust you.”

Hyunjins eyes became hooded as he scanned your face, his lower lip catching between his teeth as he tipped your chin up with the hand that wasn't increasing its grip on your waist. You stopped breathing as Hyunjin ran his thumb over your lower lip, taking in the softness of your skin before delving in for a bite.

You whimpered at the gentle sting as he tugged at your lower lip, eyes screwed shut and hands clutching at his tear stained denim jacket. Before you could even question what was happening, Hyunjins' other arm wrapped around you, pulling your body hard against his as he tilted his head to kiss you properly. Your head spun. All you could focus on was his soft, plush, lips, and warm breath.

A squeal sneaked out of you when Hyunjin licked your lower lip, allowing him to slip between your lips when you gasped in surprise. You put up no fight, allowing him to roam as he pleased. You were so lost in everything about him, his touch, his smell, his taste. It was as if you were caught in a current drifting you further out to sea. Was this why every girl in town wanted a chance just to spend a night with him? Or was he so good because he got around? He was just kissing you, and you could feel your excitement stirring. How did it feel to do more than just kiss him? Wanting to know you released your grip on his jacket, slipping your hands beneath the collar.

Hyunjin shuttered at your cool touch, a stark contrast to the hot skin of his neck. Goosebumps raised as he felt you slip his jacket off of him, and he released your waist to help you along, dropping the fabric by the front door and kicking off his shoes. He was so focused that he let out a small noise of surprise when you slipped your hands under the hem of his shirt, hands resting on his abdomen.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your lips, chuckling when you refused to stop kissing him. Running a hand into your hair, he held on gently as he pulled away, full on grinning when your lips tried to chase after him, “easy there, girl.”

“Why'd you stop?” You softly whined, somewhat out of breath, a pout on your sweet lips.

“I just don't want to keep this up right by the front door, I keep thinking your parents are going to catch us or something,” Hyunjin said light heartedly, his eyes still lingering on your lips. He already wanted to kiss you again.

“Then…” you began, feeling shy at what you were about to suggest, “my room?”

“Your room,” Hyunjin agreed, lifting you from the floor and carrying your giggly self to your bed. Tearing off his flannel and climbing on top of you, he finally took a moment to take in your outfit. His heart sank once he realized this outfit was new, and you looked absolutely stunning in it. How dare your date not come to see how much effort you put in for tonight. Hyunjins hands clenched at your sheets as he told himself that at least you wouldn't have dressed up for nothing. He wouldn't let your efforts tonight go to waste.

“Hyunjin, are you alright?” Hyunjins eyes met yours, and he leaned in to place a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I'm just nervous, I didn’t think you'd take it this far.”

“I didn't either,” you admitted, suddenly unable to look at him, “but I just… I liked what we were doing, how you were making me feel.” Your cheeks burned, but Hyunjin was right. You deserved to feel beautiful, and you were grateful that it was Hyunjin who was making you feel this way. “Hyunjin… I- I want you to keep going… would you… would you be my first?”

Hyunjins’ breath caught in his throat, and in an instant, he no longer felt like the full of confidence school bad boy. Instead, he was just a boy, a boy with his heart hammering in his chest as he looked down at the girl he secretly loved with the widest eyes imaginable.

“Are- Are you sure?” He whispered, the tremor in his voice matching the one shaking his body.

“Yes,” you breathed, finding the courage to look at him again. “I'm sure.”

With a fervored nod of his head, Hyunjin sat up and hastily fumbled for his wallet in his back pocket, praying that he still had a condom tucked away. With relief, he found one. He couldn't stop shaking.

“I'll stop whenever you tell me to,” Hyunjin said with a mix of excitement and anxiety, placing the condom next to you on the bed, “you call all the shots. I won't do anything you're not comfortable with, okay?”

Unable to speak, you nodded, taking several deep, steadying breaths as Hyunjin returned above you, wasting no time to kiss you sweetly. You did your best to focus on the moment, on the slant of his lips, the smell of his cologne clinging to his undershirt, of his shaky hand that trailed under your shirt to run his hand over your breast which caused your breath to hitch.

“Y/N, are you wearing lingerie?” Hyunjin murmured. Your hands flew to your face to cover your now tomato red face before he could even finish asking his question. Once again, you were only able to nod. With a groan, Hyunjin, unceremoniously and without warning, pushed your shirt up as far as it would go before sitting back on his haunches and tearing your bottoms off of you. Fuck, to think that good-for-nothing almost saw you in this. “I can't tell you how glad I am to be the only one to see you in this,” he said admiringly, pressing kisses to your knees, then down your inner thighs.

Hyunjin paused for a moment, giving you a chance to stop him before he went any further, but when you remained hiding behind your hands he continued to pepper kisses between your thighs as he worked his way down. With a small smirk, Hyunjin traced the little bow that topped the front of your lace panties. You were a present just for him. He felt grateful, getting something just for him.

Wanting to show just how appreciative he was, Hyunjin spread your legs, slotting his head in between them and placing soft kisses to your covered heat. He relished in your shy, needy whimpers as he ran his fingers up and down your clothed slit, pressing more kisses over your clit as the dampness against your panties worsened.

“I'm going to eat you out first before we do this, baby, I want you relaxed and feeling good before I try sliding in,” he instructed as he pulled your panties down your legs with his teeth and slid his finger over your now exposed slit.

You were already a panting mess from this little bit of stimulation, your hands no longer hiding your face but bunched at your chest as you watched him toy with you. You had never seen this side of Hyunjin before and were getting more and more aroused as he focused on your pleasure. You couldn't take your eyes off him, especially as he rested one of your legs over his shoulder, collecting your wetness on his middle finger before easing it between your folds. He pumped the digit in and out a few times, checking if there was any discomfort before easing in another finger. Your eyes fluttered closed at the filling sensation, savoring the delicious drag of his fingers as they slowly pumped in and out of you. Hyunjin took great care in building you up, exploring which spots were your weakest and prodding at them mercilessly until you were shaking beneath him. Right when you thought the sensation couldn't get more intense, Hyunjins' tongue slid over your sensitive clit, causing your hips to buck. Hyunjin grunted but continued licking and swirling his tongue over the bundle of nerves as his fingers continued to expertly press at your gummy walls. Hyunjin was reading you so well and all you could do was grasp at his hair and cry out pathetic moans beneath him.

Before you could even say anything, your orgasm rapidly built before exploding, your creaminess coating Hyunjins’ tongue and fingers. Your body shuttered, and Hyunjin continued to rub you walls as he helped ease you down.

“That's it, baby, you did so good. Just stay relaxed, okay?” Hyunjin cooed, licking you from his lips and fingers and reaching for the condom, “are you ready?”

“I- I think so,” you stammered out, surprised at yourself for managing to speak. Your head felt so cluttered, unable to believe Hyunjin just made you cum. Hyunjin, the guy you've known since you were a kid and who you've been able to platonically share a bed with. You were almost starting to second guess whether or not you should really go through with this, maybe Hyunjin was right about things changing, maybe it would change too much and you'd lose the closeness you had.

You didn't have time to dwell on these hesitant thoughts, Hyunjin unbuttoning his jeans and beginning to slip them down caught your full attention and you could do nothing but watch with bated breath as his stunning cock sprang free. It was too late. You had passed the point of no return, and there was nothing left to do but indulge, to let yourself dive as deep as you could and let yourself drown.

Or maybe that's just how Hyunjin was seeing it. Tonight did not go as he planned, before he deigned to open social media - all the while hiding in a tube slide at a child's park - he had gotten hurt, he was on the run, in overlapping shades of pain, his only solace being that at least you were having a good night with one of his friends. When Hyunjin had seen that the guy had ditched you for a party and some other girl, he couldn't think of a worse end to his night than leaving you to ache alone. So he ran to you, risking himself further with the exposure, but he didn't matter at that moment. He would swallow everything down, just for a chance to lift your spirits, he could deal with his own pain later, he just needed to help you otherwise he didn't think he could last the night.

He truly wasn't thinking of himself when he kissed you, Hyunjin only wanted to do whatever he could to prove to you that you are worthy of being wanted. But when you pulled him close, when you wanted more, Hyunjin realized he needed the same thing - only in a slightly different way.

Tonight had been horrible for you and Hyunjin before he came to you. He was not going to let the sun rise without something good happening for the both of you not realizing that the moment he took your hand in his, both sets of clothes now discarded on your bedroom floor, lips and tongues melting together as his protected head teasing your entrance, that he was giving the both of you the thing you wanted from each other the most.

It hurt, of course, but Hyunjin was gentle. Easing himself in and out in sections, going inch by inch and refusing to push deeper until you were accustomed. He didn't want you to cry. He refused to make you bleed, and when he finally finally bottomed out, you thought you were going to faint from how shallow your breathing was.

“Breath, baby, breath,” he whispered, kissing you tenderly, “I won't move until you breathe.”

“Hyunjin…” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck and drinking in his gentle attention. “It's okay, you can move, it doesn't hurt,” you reassured. With a few more kisses, Hyunjin rested his forehead for yours before he slowly rolled his hips into yours.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the sensation - while not entirely painful - felt foreign, and you struggled to acclimate quickly, but you refused to let him stop. You knew you just needed to ride this out, that it would get better, and it did. You could feel your body accepting him and soon wanting more.

“Jinnie… more, it's not enough, more,” you mewled, wrapping your legs around his waist in an attempt to draw him closer.

“Okay, Beautiful, I'll take care of you. Just lay back, Jinnie will make you feel good,” Hyunjin murmured, pressing kissing into your neck and picking up his pace, earning himself a few sweet moans.

It was only when all tension left your body that Hyunjin dared to truly let himself enjoy you. Adjusting so he was on his knees, he pulled your legs up, holding each behind your knees as he began to truly fuck himself into you. Hyunjin watched as your sweet, shy moans turned into heated, wanton screams as he plowed into your gummy spot. Never did he think he would see you make such a gorgeous face or hear your pussy make such filthy squelching sounds as his dick slipped in and out of you. For a moment, Hyunjin thought he was dreaming as he watched you drown in bliss below him. If he was, he never wanted to wake up. He wanted to stay right here, in this too-good-to-be-true moment where all the worries from hours ago purged themselves from his mind.

“Hyun… Jin… Jinnie…” you gasped out, feeling the pressure from your building orgasm start to grow.

“Does it feel good, Beautiful? Are you gonna cum?” He asked in ragged breaths.

“Yes… yes, I think I'm close. Oh, please don't stop,” you begged, closing your eyes and throwing your head back onto your pillow. Almost as soon as you finished uttering those words, your body clenched around him as you came for the second time, a creamy ring coating Hyunjins dick.

“Fuck, baby,” Hyunjin groaned, slamming his dick into you more rapidly as he chased his own orgasm.

Feeling his hips beginning to stutter, you forced your tired eyes to open just in time to watch Hyunjins’ beautiful face twist in pleasure as he came, melodic moans bouncing off your walls. You did your best to memorize that face as he came down from his high.

After a moment of catching his breath, Hyunjin eased himself out of you to remove the condom, your body giving a shudder at the lack of his body heat.

“Let's clean up, yeah?” Hyunjin suggested, helping you up from the bed and leading the two of you to the bathroom. The following intimate moments of clean-up felt oddly comfortable and right. Once your post-orgasm bliss had faded, you expected an air of awkwardness to be lingerie around you both, but there never was.

“Hey, can I wear your flanel?”

“What?” Hyunjin asked with a laugh.

“That's what always happens in the movies. The girl wears the guys clothes after sex. I kinda wanna try it.”

“Just for a bit? That's dumb,” he replied but handed you his flannel anyway as he grabbed the rest of his clothes to put back on.

You needed to change out of your lingerie set, so you opted to wear nothing but his flannel, a comfort pair of panties, and some knee-high socks. You wanted to wear his shirt for the bit, so you were going to commit. Besides, he had officially seen too much for you to be shy at this point.

“Was this food meant to be for tonight?” Hyunjins voice called from the kitchen. You didn't notice he had left your room since he didn't bother to shut the door.

“Yeah,” you replied as you joined him in the dimly lit kitchen, missing his double take and blushing at your choice in attire. “I was actually going to come eat it before you showed up. It's meant for two, want some, or have you eaten?”

“I haven't. Go rest, I'll heat this up.” With a smile, you nodded, leaning up to place a peck on his still tinted cheek.

“Thank you for coming tonight, Jinnie. I needed it.”

“Yeah, of course, Beautiful,” he said as you walked into the living room, “I needed it too…” he added, but you were too far to hear.

It didn't take long for the food to be reheated and soon the two of you were nestled on the couch together, sharing a blanket in the dark living room as one of the movies you had picked out for tonight played.

“In a way, I'm kind of glad the jackass never showed up, I got to have this date with you instead,” Hyunjins said rather sincerely. It made your heart flutter.

“I'm glad too. He set you up to come to my rescue and make my night better. Maybe even better than if he had actually shown up.”

“Do you really mean that?” Hyunjin asked, his heart melting as he set down his plate to pull you close and nuzzle you, “awwwww you're too sweet!”

“Alright, alright, that's enough!” You laughed, pushing his face from yours. You had meant the gesture to be light-hearted, but your nerves spiked the instant Hyunjins head shot back in recoil, giving a small hiss of pain. “Oh my god, Hyunjin, are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean-”

“No, no, no, it's ok,” he reassured, his hand hovering over his eye as if he wanted to soothe the skin but feared touching it.

“Are you sure? Let me see,” you attempted to get closer, but Hyunjins long arm held you back.

“I'm fine, Y/N, let's just watch the movie.”

You blinked at him before frowning and attempted to lunge at him again.

“Hyunjin, what are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing!” He said a little too defensively. Not in the mood to play games, you stood from the couch and walked off. Hyunjin assumed this was you pouting but ultimately dropped the matter, how wrong he was.

Stomping to the light switch, you bathed the livingstone in bright light, noticing the completely unsubtle way Hyunjin dove for cover. You weren't letting this slide. Over to the couch, you didn't even attempt to pull away the pillow Hyunjin used to cover his face, instead climbing on top of him and began to tickle his sides. Instantly, his body began to jerk and wiggle, but he was adamant on not letting you see his face. However, he was struggling to handle your body on top of him and soon had no choice but to tip the both of you off the couch in an attempt to ease the ache.

This did not work in his favor. Easily catching yourself, you now stood over him, the small fall making him release his grip on the pillow just enough for you to yank it from his hands.

Your arms paused as you held the pillow mid-air in shock. Your eyes weren't playing tricks earlier. It wasn't just a trick of the light. Blooming across his cheek bone and at the corner of his lips were two bruises, and there was even a small cut near his brow that would easily be covered by his hair, were he not on his back.

“Hyunjin, what happened to you…?” You breathed, dropping the pillow. Slowly dropping to your knees, you sat on Hyunjins hips, keeping him pinned in place so he couldn't escape.

Hyunjin didn't answer. He couldn’t even meet your eyes as your fingers barely ghosted over the discolored skin. Without realizing it, you dropped your hand on his side, only to snap your hand away when he flinched in pain. You sat as still as a statue for a few moments before reaching down and lifting his shirt, showing more discoloration.

You felt horrible. How could you not notice? How could you not see? The instant the thought popped into your head, realization hit you.

“This is why you didn't want to be by the front door… with the light right on you. You didn't worry in my room cause the lights were off, and in the bathroom and kitchen too… There was only dim lighting. It was so I couldn't see.” The look of guilt on Hyunjins face was all you needed to confirm that you were right. He was hiding this from you, but why? What happened to your Hyunjin that he came to you so hurt?

“Please don't cry, beautiful. You've already cried so much tonight.”

“Then tell me what happened,” you said firmly.

Hyunjins lips pressed together, he didn't want to open up, he especially didn't want to ruin the special evening you two were just having together. But he knew you wouldn't let this slide, and if he was honest… someone about the way you were dressed brought him back to the surprising feeling of comfort he felt while being in bed with you.

“... okay,” he eventually relented, gingerly sitting up and bumping noses with you. “But kiss me first.”

“Huh?”

“Just… please.”

He sounded so tired and defeated. Wanting nothing more than to swallow up all his pain, you didn't hesitate again, wrapping your arms around his neck and bushing your lips over his.

Hyunjin kissed you back desperately, wrapping his arms around you and holding on to you. If he didn't, he felt he would fall apart, a stark contrast to the way he held you in your doorway. You didn't realize when his hand had slipped under his flanel until his nails raked over your back, raising goosebumps in their wake as his hands traveled between your bodies.

“Hyunjin,” you called, pulling from his lips. He didn't stop, his lips dropping to your neck the moment you pulled away. “Hyunjin,” you said again, attempting to sound more stern with little success. You were melting under his touch again.

“I just want to feel you against me,” he mumbled against your skin, unbuttoning the flannel and opening it just enough to expose you, but not take it off completely. He then pulled back, once again pulling off his tee before leaning back into you, his arms snaking around you under his shirt and his face buried in the crook of your neck.

You two stayed stationery in that position for a few moments, the only sound coming from your forgotten move. Not knowing what else to do for Hyunjin, at that moment, you slid your fingers into his hair and scratched gently at his skull. Only then did Hyunjin finally relax. He finally felt the same warmth, safety, and intimacy from earlier, making it easier for him to finally explain what happened.

You weren't the only one heartbroken that night. Hyunjin had gotten involved with an older woman. He was really having fun with her. He thought she actually cared about him. She made him feel like somebody. But right when he thought things were going great, that's when everything went wrong.

What was supposed to be a normal night together turned into him finding out she was married in the worst way possibly, with her husband catching them getting hot and heavy together and beating the shit out of Hyunjin for messing around with someone he shouldn't. The guy wouldn't even believe Hyunjin when he said he didn't know the woman was married.

Turns out this woman has a history of luring young, hot guys to her with tons of spoiling and praise, only to then have her way with them until her husband finds out and beats the shit out of the poor boy. Rinse and repeat, right up to Hyunjin. The latest in a line of victims.

Hyunjin managed to get away but never before had he felt so cheap and pathetic, this wasn't the first time a girl slept with him for her own gain but sometimes about this time just made him feel so… worthless. It brought tears to his eyes to admit this, and he clung to you tightly as he cried.

You've never known Hyunjin could cry so hard, and it broke your heart to learn that this happened to him, but you were also proud of him. He said he never intended on telling anyone and that he was just going to hold on to this until the day he died, but he didn't. He told you, he let it out, and even though it broke your heart to see him like this, you wanted him to always talk to someone, even if it wasn't you. You also promised that you would do whatever it took to make him comfortable enough to open up, that while you couldn't fix his problems, you could be his safe place.

“It's funny, but… this is what we're doing right now. It's what I need. This is my safe place,” Hyunjin admitted, his lips tickling your collar bone.

“The skin contact??” By now you and Hyunjin had made your way back to your bed, settling in under the covers, each of you wearing next to nothing so Hyunjin could feel as much of you against him as possible.

“Kinda, just… the intimacy of it all. If I could, I'd be buried inside you again. I want to be as close to you as I can. It makes me feel like I'm not worthless. It makes me feel wanted.”

“Having your dick in someone makes you feel wanted?” You teasingly asked with a giggle.

“No, baby,” Hyunjin replied with a laugh, lifting his head from your chest to fix you with a soft stare. “I only feel like this because it's you. The only girl I've shared years of my life and my darkest secrets. The only girl who trusts me so much she'd ask me to be her first and who loves me enough to sit in and listen to my problems the same night.” You were too stunned to speak, but you were sure Hyunjin could see just how red your face was. “You're my closest and most trusted friend, Y/N. I think sex and stuff like that will only feel this special, this safe and warm, with you.” It was also because Hyunjin was secretly in love with you too, but he decided to keep that part to himself, he wanted to enjoy this moment, this look on your face, for just a little while longer.

“I… I think so too, Hyun. It won't ever mean the same with anyone else,” you said, decidingly also refusing to admit the feelings you've been harboring for Hyunjin.

A sweet smile spread across Hyunjin's face, his eyes curving into crescents. You knew you were essentially digging your own grave, dooming yourself to what you assumed was going to be a mainly physical relationship, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Not when Hyunjin looked so irresistible and said such endearments, snuggling against you and showering your skin with kisses, leading you two to get lost in each other again until you fell asleep in each other's arms, only for him to cling to you the all throughout the next morning. If you could just have more moments like this with him, it would all be worth it. Anything to be the safe space for the boy you were so desperately in love with.

○●☆♡☆●○

“So that's it, that's how you and Hyunjin became, well, you and Hyunjin. You were in love with him, and you were his security blanket.”

“I mean, kinda,” you replied, polishing off the last of your water bottle and opening another. “Sex with me, at least at the beginning, meant so much to him because I was someone who really cared about him. He never had to doubt if I was doing things with him for clout or for some sick kick. That gave him a sense of safety, and it gave him space to open up. And I was only too eager to please cause not only was I completely in love with him, but he did mean so much to me beyond that. He was a friend who put everything aside, even his own issues, to look out for me.”

“Which is why you feel bad you can't be as close to him as you used to be and why when he keeps things to himself, it bothers you so much.”

“Exactly.” Heaving a deep sigh, you rummaged through your pile of trash to hopefully find an unopened piece of candy. Meanwhile, Felix sat silently next to you, feeling sympathetic to your situation.

“I take it you and Changbin haven't talked about any of this?” Felix asked tentatively, making you pause your search.

“... No, I'm not even sure if it's worth bringing up,” you admitted, laying back against Felix's mattress and watching his ceiling fan turn. “It was such a big part of my life, but it's over now. I made my choice, and I chose myself. I'm finally with someone who's as much mine as I am theirs. I don't want to throw a wrench into things by telling him about something that ended before we even got together.”

“So you have no regrets then?”

“None. I'm happy with Changbin, even if I don't get to see him as often as I like.”

Just then, the sound of Chan's door opening and closing caught yours and Felix's attention. It was the first time you've heard any noise coming from him since you even got to the boys' shared apartment, and upon checking the time, you noticed that it was already 11 in the evening.

“Hey, how often do you get to see Bin?” Felix asked.

“Barely… I see him just slightly more often than I see my own roommate.”

“I hardly see my roommate anymore either,” Felix said, a deep sense of dread building in him. “How… How long has it been since you and Bin started dating?” You swallowed hard at his question, choosing instead to focus on the sound of Chan rustling through the kitchen before returning to his room. You knew where Felix was going with this.

“It's only been a little over a month.”

A tense silence settled between the two of you, neither one of you daring to say it. But you knew what he was thinking. You could feel the worry radiating off of Felix's slender body, seeping into your bones. You had essentially severed your deepest and longest lasting relationship to be with Changbin, and now, due to one stroke of chance you barely get to see him and can't even turn to the person from your second longest lasting relationship for aid.

What's going to happen to your freshly established relationship if this demand for 3racha keeps going? How will you survive not being able to see, not only your boyfriend, but one of your best friends who championed your budding connection to said boyfriend? Especially when the only deep connection you had left was someone you were desperately attempting to put space around?

These worries troubled you. Long after Felix's attempts to sedate them, long after you bid him good night and drove yourself home, and long after, you readied yourself inside your all too silent apartment and clambered into bed. You had been so happy for 3racha, so determined to support them, but now all that lingered over head was the fact that in one fleeting moment you realized you no longer had the steady foundation built by the three most precious people in your life.

---------------------------------------

Well... this chapter certainly ended up taking on a life of its own, and as I mentioned in this post, it ended up coming to mean a bit more to me than the other chapters.

Anyway, I had intended on this to be a bonus chapter, but I thought it flowed better as part of the main story. I'm getting better at placing the back stories/flashbacks.

If you go back to the first couple of chapters, you can see I was formatting the story differently. I was struggling with the build-up of the story and then found my stride in later chapters. If I allow myself to be a bit delulu for a moment, if i ever get my E. L. James or Anna Todd moment, I'd definitely go back and re-write those beginning segments.

Taglist: @groovygroovyhyunjin @hhwangsmoon @luvyblossom @doggezz@kayleefriedchicken @hyunjinhoexxx

[k-s-morgan]

Hi, I hope you are safe and sound

I've been meaning to ask you a question about asexuality but was afraid it would be too personal. Your recent post is about, so I guess it's ok to ask, but if not, feel free to skip

I'm still young enough, going through my university years, but I've never felt attraction towards anyone. Even as a teenager at school. (Now, I'm not even sure if I can love anyone as a partner) Though I like reading romantic stories and do understand when a person is 'attractive' or not. So, the question is how/when did you understand that you are asexual and do you have any tips perhaps? It's just so upsetting for me to feel pressure from not only society but also my parents who expect me to find a lover and have a family

Hello! Oh, please don't worry, I don't mind any kind of personal questions as long as they are not deliberately offensive!

Asexuality means a lack of sexual attraction to anyone, but there is such thing as aesthetic attraction, meaning that you find some people aesthetically pleasing, very beautiful, etc. From what you said, you might be referring to it. Asexuals are perfectly capable of evaluating the general attractiveness of a person and they might even have their preferred ideal of beauty.

In my case: for a long time, I was confused because I felt aesthetic attraction., and like, I adored reading and writing and watching romance stories. It's my favorite genre. All of this made me think that I’m bisexual, and I identified as such. But even when I admired a person’s beauty, it was more like admiring a painting. I felt no desire to do anything sexual with them (or anything romantic). When I saw a great character, I wanted to ship them with someone instead of seeing myself with them.

When I read about asexuality, something finally clicked, and I was thrilled with understanding who I am. I never doubted it since I found my label around 23, and I knew at that point that I’m just not attracted to people, neither romantically nor sexually. If you live that long and you never experience what other people do, to me, it's a clear indication that you're different in some way. I was excited to find the source of this difference.

The most important thing is what and how you feel. You can find a definition that describes you best and makes you feel comfortable; you can change your mind later. Many people dislike labels in general; I felt pleased when I found one, but we all have different experiences. Just try not to push yourself into something you don’t want or don’t like. Even if others don’t respect your sexuality/preferences, respect them yourself and I think (and hope) that you’ll be happy.  

I understand about feeling pressure, and I'm sorry. I wish I knew what to say here. My immediate family is very supportive, but everyone else is often annoying. I’ve never dated anyone, I never felt romantic or sexual interest to anyone; I had my first kiss + sex out of curiosity when I was 22, and it didn’t change anything in me - it was just a weird, very mechanical activity. But my friends and most of my relatives still say stuff like, “Oh, honey, you just haven’t met the right person yet! Have you tried therapy? I hope this year, you’ll find the love of your life! Would you like me to set you up with my friend?” My Mom tried to explain to her co-workers why I don’t plan on getting married, and they all refuse to accept that asexuality exists. They think I must be hiding some trauma. This is extremely offensive and infuriating. 

Sexuality is a part of who you are. I try to make people around me understand it, but they just blink at me in confusion. I ask heterosexual folks, “Why are you so sure you are straight? Maybe you just haven’t find the right man/woman.” When my aunt wished me to find a partner for the 100th time, I waited for her birthday and wished her to become a surgeon (she never had any relation or interest in medicine). She seemed to understand something, but a few months later, we were back to where we started. Still, maybe something like this could help you?

I'm comfortable and happy with myself, so while other people are a source of occasional frustration, their opinions don't really affect me.

I don't know how aggravating your situation is or might get, so the only thing I can say is that I hope you remember that your happiness with yourself matters most. You might figure out what label fits you best, you might start/keep changing them - as long as you’re comfortable with who you are, it’s all fine!

[vulturewizard]

Every so often I go on the internet to look up anxiety, depression, and the like & almost every time I come across symptoms that match up with OCD or general anxiety.

EDIT: looking back at my side blog posts, this contributes to that theory

EDIT: no one looks at this blog anyway ; here are my perceived symptoms I’ve noticed over time and have had varying degrees of intensity over the years:

-Fear of coming into contact with perceived contaminated substances, such as germs or dirt (this was worst when I was a teenager; likely developed my eczema on my hands cause of it)

- Unwanted thoughts or mental images related to sex, was worst when I was a teenager

- Fear of making a mistake, was worst when I was a teenager, still happens occasionally

- Feelings of doubt; persisted throughout adolescence and contributed to loss of religion in early adulthood

- Need for constant reassurance; need to know if I’m doing things right but if it’s positive compliments about myself, I don’t believe/take it to heart sometimes

- Bathing, cleaning or washing your hands over and over; since being told kindly by 3 coworkers last year that I smell, I have kicked this into higher gear but also cause of an bill incident last winter I am anxious on using too much water and so end up taking sponge baths on a regular basis

- Rituals related to numbers, such as counting, doing a task a specific amount of times, or excessively preferring or avoiding certain numbers; not fully in tune with the number part but since getting wind-chimes, I ring them when I leave the house and when I get back because it reminds me of my grandma and also cause I have a inkling that if I don’t then that may be the slimmest chance that my grandma dies that day

- Saying certain words or prayers while doing unrelated tasks; not sure if I understand this bit fully but over the past year I have started and continued to utter the phrase “stab me” when I get stressed and upset with myself, and in the past and possibly as a precursor when I was still religious and was experiencing unwanted thoughts or crisis of faith I would imagine curved blades curving through my stomach and erupting from my skin like ribs

- “Try not to seek reassurance — It may seem natural to ask for reassurance from others or try to reassure yourself. However, the reality is, reassuring yourself or doing what’s known as reassurance-seeking, is just another compulsion that’s associated with OCD” ; well fuck me

- “Focus on letting go of perfectionism”; this has actually helped significantly over the years

- “OCD symptoms may be reduced but rarely ever go away.”

EDIT:

- “A person may question himself whether he is really concentrating during a prayer, if his faith in God is strong enough…”; you are fucking kidding me!

- “Sometimes a person may start avoiding the place of worship as he feel unworthy of being there, or because his intrusive thoughts may increase when he attends the service….”; aghhhhhhhh

- “Or, a mom would spend hours checking and decontaminating the food before cooking for her kids but will let the kids eat the non-decontaminated food that their dad cooked as long as the mom wasn’t present during that cooking time. This is why I’m referring to this OCD type as responsibility-related. These individuals can’t tolerate the thought of being responsible for causing a disaster.”

- “Constant questioning of self-judgment”

- “People with OCD consistently report that change of any kind, even positive change can be experienced as stressful”

[bb-8]

Tech Savvy

Pairing: Tech x female reader Summary:  You’re an ex-imperial who has a crush on Tech. He’s awkward about it. Until he’s not. Rating: Explicit (18+, minors DNI) Warnings/tags: crack treated seriously, smut, unprotected PIV, awkward flirting, oral sex, first kisses, accidental exhibitionism, lots of bad jokes, slight angst Word count: 5.4K Notes: It’s smutty crack treated seriously, guys. Read on AO3.

The planet you land on isn’t anything special. It’s a humid swamp world in the Outer Rim that offers enough seclusion for even the Empire’s Most Wanted to pass by unnoticed.

You, being the kind and selfless individual you are, decide to help with repairs while Clone Force 99 are on a supply run. It’s the first time the ship has made planet fall in weeks and everyone is a bit stir-crazy, jumping at the chance to stretch their legs. Prolonged time spent in hyperspace has that effect.

Before he left, you told Hunter that your status as an ex-Imperial put an unnecessary target on their back. You’re still wearing your Imperial uniform, after all, and you know for a fact that the Empire is not exactly merciful to deserters. Especially deserters that committed high treason. Like aiding Clone Force 99’s escape from an Imperial prison.

You definitely didn’t just jump at the chance to stay behind because Tech opted to. That would be ridiculous.

You feel your face heat at the thought.

(What? His goggles are cute.)

The truth is, there’s been something – a tension, as it were – between the two of you since you arrived on board. You know it, he knows it. You’ve been orbiting around each other for some weeks now, and this is the first time you’ve been alone –

“Can you spare a minute?” Tech calls out, pulling you away from your thoughts. You swivel in your chair and shift your attention to him, a bit surprised.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t realise I was on board,” you reply as you make your way to the cockpit where Tech is currently fiddling with some wires.

“You’re...very hard to miss,” Tech replies and your heart skips a beat. “The ship is far too small to miss another sentient being’s presence.”

“Right,” you mutter while taking a seat, trying not to sound too deflated. So maybe he didn’t feel that tension. “What do you need help with?”

“I am taking this opportunity to rewrite the ship’s central comm unit to be more covert when passing through areas with increased Imperial traffic. If I can update the ship’s communication infrastructure to resemble that of a first generation Imperial craft, then we will considerably reduce our chances of being identified. Which is why I am particularly glad you stayed behind today. Considering your, er, history.” He fiddles with a mess of wires in front of him, not once looking up.

“And here I was thinking you wanted me around because you enjoyed my company,” you playfully jab.

“There’s that, too,” Tech replies. “Though it would be advantageous if you could list all of the Imperial access codes you can remember. The computer and I can do some pattern recognition to better–,” he cut himself off and anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. “Apologies, you don’t need a long-winded explanation. If you’re happy to share, you can do so whenever you’re ready.”

You consider protesting and telling him that you find his rambling cute, but you decide not to dwell on it for his sake. You list the codes you remember from the Academy. You keep talking, relaying any tangential intel relating to access codes. If it’s irrelevant, Tech doesn’t stop you.

He is silent for a few moments analysing the data you’ve given him. You watch him closely, admiring the way his brow furrows and his lips purse while he’s concentrating.

“You trust me then?” you venture to say. You play with your hands in your lap. “Even though I was with the Empire?”

“You’re helping us now,” Tech replies, as if it’s obvious. He is still inputting data into the datapad he is holding when he continues, “You trust us, it would seem. And we were soldiers programmed upon our creation to destroy the Republic.”

You fumble over your next words.

“That’s – it’s entirely different.”

“And from my perspective, all that matters is where you are now,” he states with finality.

“Well,” you say shyly, “I like where I am.”

Tech smirks despite himself, briefly glancing up at you from his datapad.

You hold his gaze for a moment, before settling into a comfortable silence. You sit in next to him for several minutes, revelling in his closeness like a brezak basking under the Zygerrian sun. It’s only when you notice yourself blushing like a teenager that you decide to make yourself useful and actually help with repairs like you promised.

++++++++++++++++++++

“Would you mind holding this wire out of the way for me while I solder the capacitors for the localised memory bank?” Tech calls, breaking your concentration. The illumination device you were repairing could wait.

You have no idea what Tech means, if his string of words means anything, and you survey his makeshift workbench for a hint. Several panels are detached, limply dangling from a few brightly coloured wires. Tech is focusing his attention on a large panel that is plugged into a cylindrical storage device.

“Maker, that’s a big data stick,” you can’t help but mutter.

Tech makes an incoherent choking sound.

You do as requested and lean over his shoulder to take hold of the wire he specified between your thumb and forefinger. The fabric of your sleeves brushes against his shoulder armour and it feels as though there is a static shift in the air, like the air around you is alive and humming.

And Tech gulps with the contact. He types a few sets of numbers into his datapad with excess force, seriously testing the build quality of the device. His posture is especially rigid as focuses on testing the wires currently in his lap.

Your pulse is racing. It’s as if each second that passes without a confession threatens to rip apart the very fabric of reality.

“Tech?” He has to feel this too, right? “Why...why did you stay behind today?” you ask, careful to keep your voice even. You need him to say it, admit that he feels it, too. You’re desperate for it.

“You can let go now,” he replied, pointedly ignoring your question.

You let go of the wire, but make no move to step away from him. You’re acutely aware of yourself right now and suddenly self-conscious: about the deep shade of crimson enveloping your face, the way you’re breathing, the clamminess you can feel on your palms. You hope you smell alright and silently pray that any traces of caf on your breath are long gone.

Several seconds pass before Tech looks up, over his shoulder at you. His face briefly flickers with concern.

“Your flushed features and increased heart rate indicates that you are nervous,” he remarks.

Maker, is it that obvious, you cringe.

Your mouth is dry and you contemplate making an excuse, but your brain does not want to cooperate.

“Sometimes I –,” you begin. Void, here I go. “Sometimes I get nervous around you,” you admit, attempting to make your confession sound as casual as possible. You bite your bottom lip in a way that you hope will be interpreted as sensual, or, at the very least, cute.

And Tech? Tech is flustered. Like visibly shaken, blushing furiously, two-steps-away-from-hyperventilating, kind of flustered.

“Please do not be nervous,” he responds tightly. Each word is taking considerable effort to be spoken. “I already told you: we trust you. I am not a threat to you.”

The poor guy. There’s no way he can really be misinterpreting that –.

“No, no, it’s a good kind of nervous,” you attempt to clarify.

“Nervousness is not conducive to high quality work,” Tech chokes out.

“No, I mean like giddy. I feel giddy around you.”

Come on, Tech.

“Would you like a chair–.”

“Stars, Tech, I like you!”

Tech...errors. He attempts to start several sentences with no success before mumbling an excuse that he has to go, “fix the reverse polarity capacitive inductor,” which, to your knowledge, is definitely not a real thing.

So maybe that could have gone better. All things considered, he did seem affected by your admission. On the other hand, he also left the room entirely.

Your face burns with embarrassment and, hey, maybe this backwater planet could make a decent home. Maybe the swamp water would be safe for consumption and you could spend the rest of your days foraging for swamp... berries. Sure, it might be a little uncomfortable, but no less uncomfortable than staying here for one more second.

And this is why you don’t admit your feelings to anyone. Ever.

Ugh. You were so confident, too. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to transport to another star system.

The door to the ‘fresher shuts, followed by a slight scuffle of feet, and a thunk that sounds decidedly like a head hitting the door.

You briefly consider leaving the ship to attempt to meet up with the rest of the Bad Batch. It’s been far too long since you’ve breathed fresh, clean, air and you feel a second wave of self-pity wash over you as you contemplate the thought of breathing in the smell of Wrecker’s feet for several more weeks in the Marauder’s circulated air. They hadn’t been gone longer than a standard hour and there was a clear path to get into town. You could still salvage the day, you could still stretch your legs–

‘Oh you want to know why I suddenly decided to join you, Hunter, after promising I’d help fix the ship? Funny story, I was trying to seduce your brother and he rejected me!’

You physically cringe at that. On second thought, maybe just pretending this didn’t happen would be the easier option. Lesser of two evils and all that.

Well, you’ve endured worse situations than this. Swamp berries, if they exist, probably won’t offer enough sustenance anyway, you conclude. You turn your attention to fixing several access panels that require little to no attention.

++++++++++++++++++++

It takes a long while for Tech to exit the ‘fresher. The door opens with a hiss and you stiffen, not looking up until he briskly walks past you and resumes his makeshift work station in the cockpit. Once he is seated and his back is facing you and you can hear the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on his datapad, you allow your entire body to relax.

You look back down to your newest project: fixing the swivel action on a chair. You’re not entirely sure if the chair needed to swivel, or whether it was supposed to, but it does now. At least Omega would have fun with that.

“Can you spare another minute?” Tech says after a considerable stretch of silence.

His comment catches you off-guard. It’s fine, it’s fine, you are just going to pretend like nothing happened. You can just carry on helping with actual repairs like you promised.

“I’m coming,” you say, while putting your entire weight into tightening a screw.

Tech coughs slightly.

“The, uh, I need your help with the cum system. The comm system!” he stutters.

Your eyes widen and decide it’s best not to comment, furiously thinking about the fact that Tech rarely makes mistakes. You wipe your hands on your trousers and stride over to the cockpit where Tech is fiddling with some wires on his lap.

“Take these,” he says while coiling a piece of wire to make a conductor. He pushes right through the awkwardness and places a handful of resistors in your outstretched hand.

You stand there in silence for several moments before you drum your fingers on the back of his chair. He makes no move to immediately utilise the resistors, so you resign yourself to stand there and watch him work. (You suppress a sigh – you wish you weren’t attracted to him at this moment, but here you are, drawn in by his confidence and fixated on watching his nimble fingers work their magic.)

Normally, you’d have already lost your patience. But not now, not when you are trying to decipher just what exactly Tech was trying to accomplish by calling you over and ignoring you. And that’s when you realise that Tech either forgot you were there or forgot to give you whichever menial task he originally intended.

But there’s absolutely no chance that Tech makes two mistakes within the same standard year, never mind two mistakes within the same afternoon.

You start to wonder if he even has any use for the resistors. Your knowledge of technology is limited, but you really don’t see how they’d be useful with his current task. Maybe this is Tech’s uncharacteristically inefficient way to try to initiate conversation. You really hope you’re not completely misreading the situation, but it’s not like you have any pride left to lose.

“Why did you stay behind today, Tech?” you ask quietly, voice tinged with apprehension and perhaps an unmistakable eagerness. You phrase it more like a statement than a question this time.

He continues to fidget, his leg bouncing anxiously as he works.

“I did some research,” he blurts. “Regarding intimacy between human males and human females.”

Huh.

“I read the specifics on how to kiss,” he continues, “but I fear that I am a bit out of my depth as to how I am supposed to initiate it.” He is still fussing with the wires in his lap, not quite able to look up at you.

“You...want to kiss?” you surmise, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. “Me?”

“Very much so.”

A grin breaks across your face and the sharp sting of Tech’s previous rejection immediately melts away. You deposit the handful of resistors in a tray containing various tools Tech had been using throughout the day before taking a tentative step forward from behind the chair. He cranes his neck to look at you, an unfamiliar expression that you’re not quite able to decipher written across his face.

You reach your hand out to caress his cheek, and sliding your hand down to his chin to guide it upwards as you bend down to bring your lips to his. The kiss is chaste, at first, but Tech proves himself a quick study as slightly parts his lips to deepen the kiss. His goggles nudge against your face and you’re pretty sure you’re leaving a greasy cheek print on one of them.

You pull away to gauge his reaction.

“Was that... satisfactory?” he asks, seemingly dazed. His eyes are hooded and still focused on your lips.

“It was perfect.” You offer a small smile.

He removes the goggles to clean one side of them with a nearby cloth. So you were leaving a cheek print. Once his goggles are back in place, he’s looking at you like he can’t quite believe you’re real, his golden brown eyes blinking owlishly at you.

“I apologise for leaving you earlier. I did not anticipate you returning my affections – it did not seem probable. And I was, regrettably, not prepared,” he mumbles.

“Probable?” It’s your turn to malfunction. You want to usher a thousand reassurances at once.

“Well, no.” Tech shifts his weight uncomfortably, not quite able to meet your eyes. “Hunter or Crosshair usually are the ones who capture the affections of –,”

“I like your goggles,” you interrupt in a rush before you surge forward to press your lips against his, hoping to convey just how much you return his affections. It’s a messy, urgent kiss that Tech returns with equal fervour. His fingers find their way into your hair, pulling you closer.

When you finally break the kiss, you straighten your back and take both of his hands in yours and take small, hesitant steps backwards, encouraging Tech to stand. As he does, the project he is working on slides off of his lap and clatters to the floor. He pays it no attention as he closes the distance between you, his eyes darkened with lust. He kisses you with renewed purpose as his hands wrap around your waist, roaming across your body, before they settle firmly on your ass.

Your hips grind into his codpiece and Tech lets out a low groan that goes straight to your core. He moves to kiss the curve of your neck, sucking at the delicate skin and making you squirm. The dampness between your legs becomes apparent and you press yourself closer to him, desperate for friction where you need it the most. As if he can read your mind, he trails a hand from your ass and places it between your legs, grazing over your clit before cupping your cunt. You involuntarily rock into his hand and moan into his mouth, hardly recognising the sounds you’re making.

Tech’s hand abruptly stills as he draws back to meet your eyes. His expression mirrors yours: searching wide eyes filled with longing, a silent acknowledgement passes between you as you reach the point of no return.

And in that moment you are struck with the urge to want nothing more than his cock in your mouth.

“Can I?” you blurt, glancing downward, hoping he is able to intuit exactly what you are suggesting in that moment.

“You may.” You allow the grammatical correction to slip by. “But I’ve never–,” he begins.

You don’t break eye contact and you begin to drop to your knees. He’s looking at you with his eyes wide, mouth slack. Tech’s bulged codpiece is mere inches from your face, and it’s in that moment that you realise that you have no idea how to undress this man.

And this, this is when you start to worry.

Does it have a latch? Does it even come off?

Your eyes dart from left to right looking for some sort of hint as to how it could be removed. You’re half tempted to just plant a smooch on the armour or the kiss inside of his thigh and pretend that all of this was intentional.

“I can get that,” Tech helpfully chimes in, blessedly oblivious to your internal struggle. He removes the pelvic plate with ease and, to your relief, you can see the shape of his erection straining under a layer of thick black fabric. Black fabric that conforms to his body shape exceedingly well. You reach out to feel his length, gently cupping his balls through the fabric before applying more pressure as you palm his shaft. He soft groan escapes his lips.

It catches you a little off guard, actually, to see him so hard. Knowing he’s been hard underneath his armour this entire time. Wondering when else he’s been hard and you had been none the wiser.

His cock has an attractive silhouette – it’s thicker than you expected and you can feel the patch of pre-cum that dampens the black fabric near his tip. You reach for his waistband and pull it down before slowly wrapping a hand around his shaft. He hisses with the contact and brings a white-knuckled fist to his lips.

You peer up at him through your lashes and you lick your lips, preparing to tease him a bit before taking him as deep as you can manage.

And that’s when something inside Tech snaps.

He looks down at you with wild eyes and places his hand on the back of your head to guide your mouth to his cock, apparently unable to continue the role of a passive observer for any longer. Clearly intent at putting his newfound research to good use. You lick a wet stripe from the base to the tip, before taking him in your mouth, the pre-cum tangy on your tongue. His grip tightens on your hair the same time he tilts his hips forward to push his cock further and you hollow your cheeks, sucking hard enough to make Tech groan and his knees buckle. He braces himself against the back of the pilot’s chair, captivated at the sight your mouth stretched around his length.

You begin to bob your head in a steady rhythm, taking him as deep as you’re able. You drag your tongue and press it flush on the underside of his cock, looking up at Tech with wide doe eyes, batting your eyelashes prettily as he struggles to maintain composure. You continue your pace until sweat starts to bead at his temple and his breathing becomes less controlled.

Patience isn’t your strong point and you’re too pent up not to touch yourself. You bring your free hand down your trousers, between your thighs, running your fingers through your wet folds and hum at the sensation. Tech’s hips stutter with the vibrations and his face contorts in what looks like a pained grimace. He takes a miniature step back and your lips leave his cock with a pop. He’s breathing heavily now and his weeping cock is painfully hard, his balls tight.

“I don’t want to finish in your mouth, mesh’la,” he pants, voice low.

You nod dumbly, currently unable to form a coherent thought or tear your eyes away from his erect length, only inches away from your face.

Tech takes hold of both of your forearms, helping you get to your feet, before wrapping his hands around your thighs, picking you up with surprising ease. You lock your thighs around his torso as he strides over to press you against one of the auxiliary control panels adjacent to the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit. The incline on the panel is steep and the pressure of his hips against yours is the only thing keeping you from sliding down.

“Let me taste you,” Tech groans against your ear.

You let out a frustrated whine and desperately move to unclasp your trousers as Tech works to open your shirt. You shudder once the cool air hits your sweat-dampened skin and Tech messily palms your exposed breast while nipping at your neck. He helps you shimmy out of your clothing while holding you in firmly place before discarding them on the floor of he Marauder.

And this is how you find yourself spread eagle on the Marauder's control panel in possibly the most undignified position you’ve ever been in.

He goes to remove his goggles and you stop him.

“If they’re not uncomfortable for you, I’d like for you to leave them on.” He quirks a brow at you, quizzical. “What? I told you that they’re cute.”

His face evolves from sceptical to bashful in a few moments.

“Very well, then. I can leave them on.”

Tech moves his hands under your thighs as he lowers himself, draping your legs across each of his shoulders with surprising gentleness for a man who looks like he is ready to devour you. Once he’s on his knees and comfortably supporting your weight, keeping you pressed against the console, he places an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“A-are you okay with this?” you manage to stutter out. It’s not like you haven’t pictured his head between your thighs before, but something about his head actually being between your thighs fills you with a nervousness you hadn’t anticipated.

He mumbles his assurances against your clit. He begins with slow, languid licks and you suck in a sharp breath as you feel yourself craving more and have to stop yourself from violently bucking your hips up.

Okay, so he’s actually really good at this. You know you really shouldn’t be that surprised, Tech is nothing if not thorough with his research and it’s, er, practical applications. Any thoughts of humour at Tech’s expense are, however, ripped from your mind when he sinks a single finger inside your cunt. His finger curls with a precision that only Tech could manage and you moan in encouragement as he pumps it in and out.

You squirm when he hits the spot that makes you want to beg for more and you feel your bare ass hit a button on the console. The next thing you hear is a soft swish swish sound of the Marauder's screen wipers that you inadvertently turned on. Mercifully, it doesn’t break Tech’s concentration and his hands continue to grip your hips, holding your cunt to his face.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you chant. You writhe again and another button sounds its activation. Nothing immediately makes itself known. You hope it’s not something like a proton torpedo firing into the swampy area the Marauder landed in. Not because there’s anything nearby, but because you’ll die if Tech stops here.

He moans into your core as he brings a hand down to grip his leaking cock, desperate for some friction.

“Kriff,” you grunt at the sight of him fucking his fist, only to hear Tech utter the same exclamation at the same time.

“Is there an echo in here or something?” You smile at him, offering a half-laugh before your face contorts with pleasure once again and you hiss through your teeth.

“Yes?” a new, tinny voice chimes in on the overhead speaker system. “This is Echo... You’ve, uh, turned on the short range comm system.”

You knew Tech was a good soldier, but the reflexes in which he slammed the short range comm transmitter with his free hand surprised you. He didn’t move himself from between your thighs and skilfully cut off the transmission while continuing to work your clit with his tongue and your cunt with his finger.

Before you could die from embarrassment and wonder just how much Echo and the rest of the Batch heard, Tech adds another finger and your entire body jerks and tenses.

“I’ve – ah, right there – Maker, that feels good. I’ve never been with anyone who is patient enough to let me come,” you manage to say through gritted teeth.

“My research indicated that it can take around 20 standard minutes for women to orgasm if properly relaxed, why would others stop prematurely?” Tech replies, only briefly removing his mouth from your cunt to reply.

“Selfishness?” you guess.

Tech seemed to take your admission (and ability to form sentences) personally, clearly intent on rendering you incapacitated. He returns to his attention to your clit and maintains his rhythm, teasing a third finger near your entrance. You whine at the sensation and move to hold Tech’s head in place, because if he stops now, there’s no way you’ll ever forgive him. The pressure that’s been mounting in your core finally, finally peaks and your entire body tenses as you surrender to your climax.

“Tech,” you whine, unable to formulate thoughts, let alone words.

He assures you with a soft groan and tightens his grip on your hip. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he guides you through your climax.

As you come down from your orgasm, you feel like you’ve spent a year in bacta. You can’t move. Honestly, your bones are like Andorian jelly. The feeling is only temporary, however, as you’re overcome with the desire – no, need – to be filled.

“In me,” you urge. “Now.”

He adjusts his goggles and looks at you, spread out, completely ready for him.

“Lie back then.”

Tech settles between your thighs and nudges his cock head against your entrance. He takes a breath to steady himself, rubbing his length through your folds, covering it in your arousal.

“So wet and ready for me, mesh’la.”

Your hands wildly grasp at his chest plate, fingernails scratching along the plastoid, desperate to hold onto anything to anchor you. You meet his mouth with a graceless kiss, before he finally sinks into you.

“You’re tight,” he grits out.

He waits a few moments letting you adjust to his size before he begins to move. He restrains himself, slowly rolling his hips as your cunt stretches around his length.

“More,” you plead, breathlessly. “Please.”

Your encouragement is all he needs before he snaps his hips against yours, setting an unrelenting rhythm. He rocks into you harder with each thrust of his hips, his plastoid leg places slapping your skin.

“You feel so good, cyar'ika,” he pants. You surge upwards to greet his lips with a messy kiss, which only spurs him on to fuck you faster. “You’re, ah, taking me so well.”

“Fuck –,” you whine.

His grip tightens and his whole body starts to tense – he’s dangerously close to coming undone. And that’s when you notice his pace start to slow, his movements clearly distracted.

“Tech?” you mumble. You focus your eyes on his face and he looks dazed, you can practically hear him thinking. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but he doesn’t give you any time to panic.

“Elevate your hips by seven to ten degrees,” he states through heavy breaths.

“What?” Definitely not what you were expecting him to say.

Tech seems unfazed by your apparent annoyance. He wordlessly repositions himself, grabbing both of your hips and raising them slightly, holding your body up so it’s just the sharp incline of the console and Tech’s hands keeping you in place.

He began thrusting in earnest again, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure. And, Maker, he was right. The new angle hits a spot that makes your toes curl and you lose the ability to speak almost instantly and mewl helplessly as Tech fucks into you.

You made an undignified noise as you gripped his bicep, desperate to hold onto something, feeling the pressure mount in your core. With Tech’s hands busy holding you in place as he maintains a brutal pace, you bring a hand down to your clit, still wet with spit and your own essence. You barely have to touch yourself before you feel your body screaming for release.

“’M coming,” is all the warning you are able to give him before your cunt spasms around his twitching cock as your vision whites out. Tech grunts at the sensation, unable to hold his own climax off any longer.

“Where do you want me to –,” he grates out.

“Anywhere,” you cut him off, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Just want to feel you.”

“Fuck, mesh’la, I’m going to come,” Tech groans, desperately chasing his release with harsh thrusts. His hips forcefully buck into you before his cock stiffens and he spills himself inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, slowly pumping you full of his cum, before he slumps against you. “Bid jate par me,” he mumbles into your neck, barely audible. “Gotal par me.”

You don’t know Mando’a, but whatever he is saying, the way he is saying it, sends a pleasant chill over your body.

You’re both still breathing heavily when Tech gingerly places you back down with a surprising gentleness for someone who had just been fucking you within an inch of your life. He’s in no rush to remove himself from you, but when his softened cock does slip out and his cum leaks out of you and onto the console, he helps you slide down. When your feet touch the floor, your legs wobble slightly and Tech has to grasp your forearms to steady you, softly chuckling at the state you’re in.

And when you look at him, he looks positively debauched. Sated, but debauched. You probably look worse.

In one swift motion he bends down, brings an arm down under your knees, and lifts you up. You wrap your arms around your neck while he carries you to his bunk. His cool armour against your overheated skin is a welcome sensation and you press yourself closer.

“Your research paid off,” you mumble into his chest as he sets you down on his bed.

“Please do not act so surprised by that.”

++++++++++++++++++++

You and Tech aren’t quite finished with the repairs by the time the Batch return hours later, long after the moons have risen and the bioluminescent plants surrounding the ship have begun to glow. If the squad notice you’re sitting a bit too close to Tech, your thigh pressing comfortably against his, they don’t say anything.

Neither of you were expecting to defile the Marauder all day and Tech was frantically fixing the lever on a storage hatch access panel, attempting to make up for lost time.

“Wrecker!” Echo shouts. “Clean up after yourself, for kriff’s sake.”

“Why?” Wrecker drawls, stomping towards the cockpit. “What did I do this time?”

“You’ve spilled your juice on the console again, all the keys are stuck in place.”

The access lever snaps clean off in Tech’s hands.

[mistressemmedi]

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

Greetings from Miley Cyrus - phenomenal numbers.

The streams of Zitti e Buoni are growing by the second, and ahead of Muse, on the top of the English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. We almost tripled followers after Rotterdam (from 1.4 to 3.3 million, ed). Contagious and universal madness: T-shirts and merchandise sold out in 10 minutes. Like records, tickets for a tour that adds dates and expands on maps. They are even looking for us in festivals where the Rolling Stones have played. - Thomas

After the whole cocaine scandal that was started against us from France, which was later denied by my drug test, in Spain there people have been making murals with my face saying "No drugs". Some tweets made us laugh: «Congratulations, Italy! I have never been so sure that four people have fucked each other ". Miley Cyrus started following us. "You are great". “You are more” . - Damiano

From rags to riches - what a story

It was only 2016, and we were playing in restaurants, on the streets, in via del Corso (famous street in Rome). Damiano without a microphone, Thomas's guitar with broken strings, Ethan drummed on a cajón. At the occupations of the high schools in Rome (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first gigs and half an hour of fame, between those who criticized us and those who said "these guys are so cool". One of the rare times in which they offered to pay us to play - 50 euros each - we offered that money to those after us, in exchange for the chance to play during their time slow, as we knew there would have been a bigger crowd. We already understood then how it worked. That visibility was worth more than the money. We still think so ». - Victoria

The intimacy of rock - Choice of a genre

Music allows is this miracle which allows one to talk about very personal and private topics, even difficult and delicate ones. They are and remain deeply yours, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage which is like a delivery, they also find their place in you, their elaboration. They are overcome, they are accepted. One moment it feels aggressive, one moment later a (soft) ballad. It's very cathartic. - Damiano

Against panic - The stage as therapy

I have suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it is a problem that I have worked on thanks to a course of psychotherapy, to my friends and family. Playing has helped me not to let myself be paralyzed by my fears, not to be limited in my private and professional life. I have learned to accept, to live with this side of me. I don't hide it. I no longer feel ashamed. - Victoria

This belief that only crazy people go to the psychologist is widespread ignorance. Nobody is born learned. And it is often difficult to understand why we are here, let alone the derivation and direction of our desires. It is a long and legitimate journey towards one's clarity. - Damiano

Essere fuori di testa – Ma diversi da loro (Be out of your mind - But different from them)

Already feeling a strong passion for something that is not a 'regular' profession but an artistic language, it puts you on a level where you're an anomaly, and while you're neither superior nor inferior to others, it places you in the condition of what breaks the mold but you're also being at a loss, leaving it to you to be bold and to take risks, hoping that they will pay off and land you somewhere. "What good is it if you don't stand out on your own?". You want to give it an aesthetic to your artistic dream, but to others it boils down to " You dress differently! You must be gay! ”, I'm 22 now and it makes me laugh, but at 17 it had an effect on me too. - Damiano

The beauty of being unique - Of believing in that and defending it

After all, we are all different not because we want to be alternative but because really no one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty. - Ethan

Fluid sexuality - Pride is freedom

We appreciate heels on men, we kiss each other, we have an open, extended mind, and we are proud of it. The horizons become vast, beyond the oppression of conservative families. With information on the web, knowledge is enriched and with it the possibility that minorities will be fewer and fewer, because majorities will be fewer and fewer. This will lower the volume to insults and bullying. If social networks can reach a village of 50 souls to reveal to someone, who is afraid of the darkness, that someone has felt that same fear.. There is no longer the need to give it a name, to define that "something" to fear, to brand it with labels that only limit you. Definitions have always had this effect on me. Gender should not even be considered in a person's judgment. Let alone orientation ". - Victoria

Sexism - A culture to be dismantled

Emma (Italian singer) dropped the bomb:" When I went to Eurovision, they insulted me over a pair of shorts. Damiano - half naked and in heels - was never criticized ". The judgment against women is constant, ferocious, and demeaning (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool but Vic a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader she is domineering and pain in the ass, who is successful because only because of her looks [and not the hard work she puts in]). As a male I am privileged, the harassment I suffer is not comparable to that experienced by a woman, the comments on my aesthetics are focused only on my aesthetics and do not insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thinking in a systemic way. But I did find myself in a situation, out of nowhere, with someone who, pulling close to her for a selfie, started licking my face ... "What do you want, did you ask me?" Consent exists, and it is a must ». - Damiano

To grow as a person - The only rule to follow

For me, to conform is the total opposite of educating oneself, and the asphyxiation of one's expression (of freedom). Fortunately, I did not suffer heavy bullying, to the point where I felt I needed to change to adapt to how others saw me. But the matrix of who I am and the aggression that marks me is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and loves dolls, then allow me the freedom to do so. I used to be a kid who wanted long hair and played with Barbies. My friends, as a teenager, looked my long hair and teased me: "You have to find yourself a girl with a short hair to make up for it". My grandparents took the dolls away from me and said: “Stop it, they're not for you” ». - Ethan

“I was six and I already could not tolerate the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things typically defined as feminine as a child, and they made fun of me for skating, for playing soccer, for not wearing skirts, for giving myself the chance to be as I wanted to be. I suffered a little, as I was bullied, but I had courage to stay true to myself, and today thanks to that courage I know that I could have been much more hurt, or I would have risked leaving the most important decision to others: the one about being just me". - Victoria

Love - music and girlfriends

I've been married to music for the past 20 years. I cannot wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary. - Ethan

Everyone goes through their own experiences, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, but it's never other people's business." - Thomas

When, for the first time, I developed feelings and attraction for a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage to go beyond the limitations I had imposed on myself. For society, being heterosexual is the norm and therefore often one automatically pegs himself in that way, giving up the freedom to experience many different shades and facets of love. Once I got over the initial insecurity of having to question one's own certainties, I lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone. - Victoria

I had paparazzi under my house morning and night. So, after four years of relationship, I finally revealed her name. I still have the paparazzi under my house morning and night, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore. - Damiano

The value of the group - Protecting each other

But the real relationship, the real family, is between us. Our band. We believed in it from the first day, even before calling ourselves Måneskin (moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon, on the poster for our first concert. We share everything, even the pain of the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because he was a victim of racism. Being a group is what we should all do together: stay united and not retreat in the slightest in the face of abuses generated by a distorted vision of someone "being different|. - Thomas

Non ho l’età – like Gigliola (It references Gigliola Cinquetti who won both Sanremo and Eurovision with her song "Non ho l’età" which translates to Not old enough)

Before us, the only one to win Sanremo and Eurovision together was Gigliola Cinquetti (in 1964). Is there is something for which I feel I am not yet old enough for? No, honestly no. Maybe for kids. I'll be honest, I'm not enough to be a dad. - Damiano

Reached the sky - What fears still remain

We are more than in the dream, we have conquered the dream. To fly high this high, there is the risk is to fall and get hurt, but we will try not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - somewhat presumptuously - reassures us rather than frighten us ". - Damiano

(ORIGINAL INTERVIEW IN ITALIAN)

[Please note that I have changed some words or structure sentence, trying to make it so that the interview made more sense lol - I skipped the first two paragraphs, which was basically the interviewer gushing over how pretty the band is lmao (relatable).

Any mistakes in the translation are sorely mine, nothing was proofread, so apologies in advance]

[nanatsumu]

TEENAGE FEVER

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x f!reader, oikawa tooru x f!reader

synopsis: iwaizumi has strung you on long enough and you’re finally at the end of your rope.

genre: heavy angst... like make your heart wrench in pain heavy, one sided pining

warnings: manga spoilers, bad grammar (didn’t know it was that bad until i used grammarly), MATURE themes, drinking, smoking, alcohol, iwaizumi being an asshole (he’s also a frat boy because surprise! frat boys should never be trusted), subtle hints at sex, bittersweet ending

word count: 6.7K

series masterlist

part one | part two | part three | part four

“y/n we know you’re in there, someone told me they saw you run in here.”

great!

you slowly sit up from the toilet, dragging your feet across the bathroom tiles until you make it to the door and begin unlocking the lock at a snail’s pace. but before you can even get a chance to twist the doorknob, somebody is already doing so on the other side of the door and the next thing you know, reina’s screaming ‘HURRY UP’ and you’re assaulted by the bathroom door.

“REINA!” you scream as the result of the door flying into your face has you clutching your head.

“SHIT! SORRY Y/N!”

“geez, why are you so fucking slow,” oikawa complains as he sucks his teeth, pushing the door in a little wider so that you can see standing him behind reina as well. “did iwa-chan’s kiss mess you up that bad?”

“your friend is a prick, oikawa!” reina jabs him in the side, eliciting a grunt from the poor man. “it was supposed to be a quick smooch but that guy had to be extra and start using tongue!”

“what kind of guy kisses a girl who he’s only met once like that?!” your female friend cries.

“only someone as ballsy as him would even try and do that,” oikawa stops scratching his head, his eyes widening like saucers as if he’s just realized something. “and don’t put all the blame on iwaizumi! y/n, you literally moaned! and i even saw you kissing back!”

“don’t make me feel shittier than i already do oikawa!” you jeer.

“he...” you sigh and you can feel the tears start to prickle your eyes. “i feel so humiliated, and embarrassed.”

“and i-i felt so... so exposed.”

oikawa’s playful expression falters as he hears the hurt in your voice and manages to squeeze his way past a protesting reina before kneeling down so that he could meet your glossy eyes.

“listen, i’ll apologize on his behalf for now and i’ll take him about it later, alright?” he awkwardly pats your shoulder, not sure what to do as he’s never been in a situation where he’s had to comfort a girl bawling her eyes out.

“y-you... don’t have— t-to do that,” you whimper. “i’m just being a big crybaby, it’s just a silly kiss.”

“no it’s not!” reina blurts out a little louder than she intended to. “that prick completely disrespected you and embarrassed you in front of everyone! it wasn’t even a matter of him kissing you, it was a part of a game, but that dude took it too far and crossed the line!”

“listen, this is why i told you to stay away from him in the first place,” your roommate shuffles closer to you and pulls you in for a hug. “let’s go home alright?”

“let me walk you guys home, it’s getting late outside and even though you two are together, you never know what’ll happen.” oikawa offers, and while you are quick to accept, reina wavers momentarily.

“how do you know you’re not gonna take advantage of us, hm?”

“please, if i wanted to i already would’ve given the circumstances but i haven’t because i. do. not. want. to!” he smiles patronizingly which irks reina.

“whatever, but if you even think about trying anything then i’ll cut your dick off and feed it to my lizard.” she threatens but oikawa doesn’t take it to heart.

you finally get the last of your sniffles out as you stand up to your feet and exit the bathroom with oikawa and reina trailing along right behind you, similar to an assembly line of ducks— a very... tall duck, a crying duck, and an angry duck.

the walk home was rowdier than you had expected it to be. while you were quieter than usual and still in a bad mood from earlier events, that didn’t stop oikawa and reina though from causing a ruckus on the way back to the dorms.

“you’re telling me, that THAT’S hajime? like hajime iwaizumi? the notorious playboy of irvine?” reina gapes as she stares at the photo of iwaizumi back in high school that oikawa had saved in his phone.

even you were surprised to see what iwaizumi looked back then when reina practically shoved oikawa’s phone in your face, the brightness radiating from his phone screen only further irritating your bloodshot eyes.

while he still had a bit of muscle on him back then, he looked a lot lankier in comparison to his university counterpart who had grown twice in size. his once pale skin had become almost a sun-kissed tan color that complimented his features. but what shocked you the most was that the iwaizumi shown to you in the photos was free from any blemishes on his arms and his ears weren’t dressed in dangly silvers or studs.

“that’s iwaizumi?” your jaw dropped and oikawa was quick to make a teasing remark about how your mouth was wide open enough for flies to fly in.

“what happened to him?!” reina cries.

“sometimes i wonder why he hasn’t visited japan in the past 4 years but when i look back at this photo and then compare it to present him, i would piss my pants too if i were him and had to go back home to my mom.”

“does his mom not like tattoos or piercings?” reina questions as you and oikawa give each other a look before turning back to the girl.

“i don’t know about iwaizumi, but my mom is pretty strict about tattoos and piercings,” you start to explain. “she’s the ‘girls shouldn’t get tattoos!’ and ‘guys shouldn’t get piercings!’ type of mom, so she’s not completely against it, but if i came home with a huge ass tattoo like iwaizumi then she’d sure as hell chop my arm off.”

“japan’s pretty strict about piercings and tattoos, especially when it comes to students because tattoos are kind of a sign of the yakuza in japan,” oikawa adds in addition. “piercings aren’t as frowned upon as tattoos but it’s usually the younger kids who have ‘em.”

“yakuza?”

“like a gang basically? or a mafia i guess.” you answer reina to the best of your abilities.

you start kicking a pebble around and breathe in the crisp california air, watching as a puff of smoke escapes your lips with every exhale.

“you alright?” oikawa asks as he begins growing worried since you haven’t said anything in the past few minutes.

“yeah, just thinking,” you stuff your hands into your pockets and continue kicking the pebble beneath your feet. “california is a lot hotter than japan.”

“you think california is hot? just wait ‘till you spend a day in the summer heat in argentina.” he counters.

“maybe one day,” you say in consideration. “maybe when i graduate university i’ll consider traveling somewhere before my life completely revolves around paying taxes and bills.”

“if you do come to argentina one day then just give me a call and i’ll be more than happy to give you a tour around.” he beams.

“my cousin is playing volleyball in brazil, i think?” you say, remembering your mother telling you that hinata had gone to play beach volleyball in brazil. “he’s blood-related but he lived in miyagi while i lived in aomori so we never really got to see each other that much.”

“miyagi? i used to live in miyagi too!”

“huh? really? do you know a hinata shoyo then?” you ask, intrigued at the newfound information. “i heard from my mom that he started playing volleyball in high school so he’s probably played you once in a game if you played volleyball in high school too.”

“i did actually, his team beat mine during the qualifiers for spring nationals my last year of high school and man, i think i probably broke the record for most bowls of ramen eaten in one sitting that day.” he chuckles but it comes out sounding more half-heartedly in your ears, almost like he’s recalling an unpleasant memory from the past.

“so what made you go to argentina?” you ask and oikawa answers like he’s been asked this countless of times (which he has.)

“when i was a kid, there was this volleyball player i really looked up to,” oikawa starts. “his name was jose blanco and there was a tournament happening in sendai that i went to where he played against japan, and at the time there was a young ace on the team who was a fledgling star,”

“he made a big impression during the first half of the tournament but he started getting worse as things progressed. he was kind of off for the rest of the game and i thought that he was gonna be subbed out but it wasn’t until they switched setters that i noticed the ace was getting back into his groove. jose was a veteran setter, 38 years old i think? and if you were to be asked who the star of the game was then you’d probably say the ace since he was the one who scored most of the points right? but if you ask me, i think the setter was the star of the game!”

“he was so cool too! like he was so calm the entire time and he inconspicuously helped the ace get back on to his feet and just simply left the court,” oikawa continues to ramble. “i even got an autograph but that dumbass iwaizumi took the paper that i bought and got the autograph of some dude on the japan team so i had to give jose the jersey i bought earlier that day instead. although it did end up getting washed though....”

“hah! desperate much?” you laugh as you bump shoulders with him.

“desperate time for desperate measures! no way was i gonna leave without getting the jose blanco’s autograph!” he emphasizes.

unbeknownst to you and oikawa, a cheeky smile creeps upon reina’s face as she watches you and oikawa converse with each other like you two were long-time friends catching up for the first time in forever.

you, on the other hand, were starstruck by the man that is oikawa tooru.

the story he told you left you feeling heart-warmed because you noticed how his eyes sparkled and his lips curved into a genuine smile as he talked about his idol and the sport he is so passionate about. oikawa was many things: a flirt, a smooth talker, a sly fox, and he could get a little handsy sometimes— but you could tell the love he had for volleyball was like no other and you respected how committed he was to the sport, even going as far as to going to argentina in order to follow his long-time idol.

“i think it’s really cool that you’re so passionate about volleyball,” you smile as you peer up at the night sky. “in my opinion, i think being committed to one thing your entire life is a bit hard depending on who you are, but at least there are guys like you who are one-in-a-million.”

your words strike a chord in oikawa and reina is quick to notice the way his lips part as he holds his gaze on you.

“oh would you two quit flirting!” reina lets out an inhumane noise that startles you and oikawa.

“you scared me!” you take a deep breath and frantically clutch your heart.

“just say you forgot that i was here because you were too busy getting chummy with oikawa!” she groans while pulling her face.

“you’re just jealous i’m stealing your roommate away,” oikawa sticks his tongue out at your roommate before stopping in his tracks and pulling you into a hug. “but don’t worry! i’ll take extremely good care of her.”

“no way buddy,” reina takes a hold of your arm and uses all of her strength in order to pull you away from oikawa. “she was my roommate before she was your friend!”

“wow i feel so popular,” you say sarcastically, accompanied with a roll of your eyes. “it’s 1 now and i think i would very much rather be at home right now in my jammies instead of listening to you two bicker back and forth.”

“you don’t mean me do you, y/n?!” reina wails as she clings onto you.

“oh look! it’s a bear!” you point out to the other side of the street and reina snaps her head in the direction you’re pointing in.

“where?!”

with her attention off of you, you take this chance to slip away from her and run towards your dorm building along with oikawa who’s right on your tail.

“you’re... really... fast!” oikawa pants as he speaks in-between breaths. “like a lo— WOAH!”

he trips over a slab of concrete that was out of place and out of reflex, he latches onto the nearest object— and unfortunately, you were the closest thing he could grab onto.

“H-HEY!” you screech when you feel yourself being pulled down onto the ground.

with the split second that he had of clarity, oikawa took advantage of the opportunity and moved his hand under your head so that it wouldn’t make contact with the concrete and his hand, would instead, cushion your fall.

you hit the concrete with an ‘oof!’ and while you were awaiting the sharp pain in the back of your head to come, it never came. instead, you open your eyes only to see oikawa’s brown ones staring right back at you with an astounded expression that mirrored yours.

“so, how are you doing this fine night?” he grins.

“pretty good, up until your dumbass tripped and pulled me down with you,” you snort.

reina gasps dramatically when she catches up to you guys and sees the position you two are in.

“you deny your chumminess with him and then you run off to get all handsy with him!”

“this idiot tripped and then thought it would be a good idea to pull me down with him,” you stand up after oikawa offers to pull you up. “what kind of thought process do you even have to think that i could catch your fall?”

reina squeezes his bicep, triggering him to let out a yelp.

“oh it’s hard alright.” reina smirks as oikawa yanks his arm away.

“do you work out a lot?” you sneak up behind oikawa and put your hands on his broad shoulders.

“yup!” he flexes his arm and gives you both a cheeky smile. “i gained 10 kilograms of muscle mass!”

“1-10?! isn’t that like 20 pounds?!” reina gawks at the volleyball player.

“yeah and guess what, i only grew one centimeter so it was all me baby!” he laughs almost mockingly.

the rest of the walk home was full of laughter and heartwarming bantering between the three of you and you were happy that you were able to meet reina, an amazing roommate, and oikawa, who was a cocky shit but still managed to squeeze a laugh out of you.

it was going to be a long 4 years away from home, but just as long as you were surrounded by the right people, you were sure that these 4 years would fly by in a jiffy.

when you guys finally arrived at your dorm building, you notified reina that you would stay outside and chat with oikawa for a bit and so she gave you the okay and headed up to your room first so that she could get ready for bed since she was about ready to knock out right then and there.

“thanks for walking me home, oikawa,” you pull him in for friendly hug that he didn’t expect, but nevertheless, he hugs back anyway because who is he to decline a hug from you? “i feel bad for having you walk me home even though you probably want to hang out with iwaizumi.

oikawa feels his stomach churn at the mention of his best friend and guilt creeps upon him like bile rising in the back of your throat.

oikawa had turned a blind eye to iwaizumi’s bad habit of playing around with girls and leaving them after he’s had his fair share of fun because iwaizumi was his best friend and despite the drastic transformation he had gone through within the 4 years that they’ve been away from each other, oikawa knew deep down that he was still the iwaizumi he knew and loved— the iwaizumi who had stuck with him through thick and thin during his adolescent years.

however, now that he’s taken the time to familiarize himself with you personally and grow to learn what type of person you were— someone with a good heart but isn’t afraid to voice their own opinions and stand their ground when people try to walk all over them— he can’t help but be greedy and want you all for himself.

“say, y/n,” you give him a soft hum in response which prompts him to continue taking. “you wanna grab some milk bread with me tomorrow at the cafe you were talking about?”

“are you asking me out on a date right now?” you wheeze. “you’re pretty bold for asking out someone you’ve only met twice your entire life.”

“it’s not a date unless you want it to be.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“a platonic date sounds good to me, don’t you think?”

“there’s no such thing as a platonic date, y/n.”

“maybe not to you since you’re probably used to girls flocking around you all the time,” you say and he’s visibly upset at the fact that you think he’s a casanova or something when in reality he still hasn’t had his first girlfriend yet. “so you in? i’ll even call it a date if you’d like.”

“yeah i’m in,” he puts his fist out for a fist bump, which you are content with returning, and he beams at you with the biggest smile you’ve seen him give you. “does the afternoon work for you?”

you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket and open up the contacts app before handing it to the male.

“just give me your number and we can go over the specifics over text tonight.”

he punches in his number, saving the contact as “tooru👽” before handing the device back to you.

“an alien emoji?” you laugh as you read his contact name displayed on your phone. “you’re a dork.”

“like you’re any less of a dork than me.” he playfully rolls his eyes as he pulls his phone out and gives it for you to return the favor.

you clumsily put your number into his phone, accidentally pressing some random digit one too many times, and save your name as “y/n :3” before handing his phone back to him.

“a bunny face?” he threw his head back and let out a humorous laugh.

“shut up!” you give his shoulder a gentle push. “as if an alien emoji is any better, at least my emoticon is cute!”

“yeah yeah, whatever you say.” he slips his phone back into his pocket before giving you one last final hug that feels a bit warmer than the ones he’s given you before.

“get home safe, oikawa.”

his eyes linger on your face for a bit longer than he would’ve liked.

your eyes were crinkled and your smile lines were more prominent up close, but it didn’t stop oikawa’s heart from skipping a beat.

“sweet dreams y/n.”

you awaken the next morning to the sound of your phone ringing and reina’s abnormally loud snoring (you’re surprised that the girls in the next room over haven’t come knocking at your door telling your roommate to snore a little quieter.)

with the sleep still present in your eyes, the brightness of your phone screen causes you to squint before your vision clears up and you’re able to make out the numbers ‘7:30 A.M’ displayed across your screen.

when the haziness finally leaves your system, you take a look outside your window and realize that the only speck of sunlight present at all is the sunlight that’s provided by the rising sun, peeking out from across the horizon.

you mentally curse oikawa out in your head as your fingers dance across your keyboard to type out a brief response to oikawa’s suspiciously ominous text message.

you reluctantly get up from your bed and slip on your fuzzy bunny slippers before treading over to your door, unlocking it, and then swinging it open, revealing your tall, brown-haired friend standing right where he said he would be.

“nice jammies,” he lets loose an unrestrained, boisterous laugh as he reaches out to fix the strap of your tank top which slipped off your shoulder. “i dig the bunny slippers by the way.”

you haphazardly shuffle your feet, gaining a smile from oikawa as he chuckles softly.

“can i come in?” he peers into the room by leaning over a bit where he sees reina sprawled out in a weird position on her bed, snoring loudly.

“uh, reina’s actually asleep,” you sheepishly scratch the back of your head. “the dorms don’t have separate bedrooms, everyone just sleeps in the same room with their respective roommates.”

“so movie night’s no longer in question?”

“i guess if you don’t mind reina being a plus one,” you shrug as you gesture for him to come in, letting him enter the room first so that you can close the door on your way in. “she’s a heavy sleeper so don’t worry about waking her up.”

oikawa throws himself onto your bed, even going as far as to slipping under your covers and making himself right at home, which, you don’t hesitate to scold him for doing so.

“what’s the point of coming all the way over here just to go back to sleep?” you cross your arms as you walk over to your bed, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress.

“the bakery opens at 8:30 so i wanted to pick you up since the walk there is 25 minutes from here,” oikawa pulls his phone out and checks the time. “it’s 7:37 now so hurry and get ready!”

you shuffle over to the worn-out dresser that has been with you since the day you moved into the dorms and pull out the drawers that contain a majority of your most worn pieces. taking into account the outfit that oikawa was currently sporting— an oversized hoodie, a loose pair of sweatpants, and some sneakers that looked to be on the pricier side— you decided that wearing something similar to that would suffice.

“can you turn around?” you ask as you grab a pair of black sweatpants, not bothering to check the design since they looked all the same anyways, and an oversized hoodie that you forgot you even had in your possession.

“hm? why?”

“i’m gonna change?” you shrug. “unless you don’t mind staying here by yourself? or you can just step outside for a minute if you want to.”

“oh yeah, sure.”

you watch as he heeds your request and begins to turn around to face the wall before proceeding to take off your pajamas, making sure to keep a close eye on him just in case he decides to be a peeping tom.

“you know, you’re pretty credulous trusting a guy you’ve only met last week.” he says as he rocks side to side, head still turned facing the wall.

“well i don’t have to worry about you peeping because i’m already done changing,” you pull down the rest of the bunched up fabric of your hoodie that’s around your waist before slipping on a random baseball cap you saw laying around. “even if you did turn around, i have a 5-pound textbook and i’m not afraid to use it.”

oikawa’s about to make a snarky remark in return to your futile threat when suddenly a loud snore escapes reina’s mouth, encouraging the two of you to give each other a flabbergasted look that leads to you both erupting into a fit of hushed laughter.

“let’s go before reina wakes up and gets a heart attack after seeing you in here.”

“no way!”

after exiting the dorm building and beginning your journey with oikawa to the designated cafe, you two arguing about whether or not milk or cereal should go first after oikawa mentioned to you that he was a firm believer of “milk first, cereal last.”

“if you put milk in first then you’re just gonna get less cereal and who the fuck eats cereal just to drink the cereal milk?” you shoot him a grimace.

“when you pour in the cereal after the milk, then it’s just gonna float there and who takes satisfaction in seeing that shit?” you add. “that’s why cereal first is way better because you get a bowl full of cereal and it’s just... perfect!”

“but your cereal is gonna be soggy by the time you put the milk back in the refrigerator!” oikawa retorts.

“then just wait until after you’re done to put it away? how long do you even take to put the milk back in the refrigerator that when you come back your cereal gets all soggy?!”

“and aren’t you supposed to be an athlete? i’m seriously concerned if it takes you at least over 15 seconds just to put back a carton of milk.” you take a jab at him.

“i will not allow this oikawa slander from you!” he stops in his tracks before abruptly picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“h-hey! put me down! i’m heavy, oikawa!” you squirm around in protest, but oikawa shows no sign of letting you go anytime soon as he starts to pick up his pace.

“i didn’t gain all of that muscle for nothin’ baby!” he laughs maniacally as he’s practically full-on sprinting down the street now.

luckily enough, the cafe was just around the corner of the street that oikawa started running down from which meant there was finally a reason for the male to let you down, despite the fact that you had been punching his back for the last minute or so but you couldn’t seem to crack him, his arms, nor those broad shoulders of his.

you let out a huff of feigned annoyance once you’re down on your feet while oikawa is still laughing his ass off as you two walk into the establishment.

“not funny! i almost dropped my hat when you pulled that stunt!” you complain as you’re frantically trying to fix your hair: when oikawa abruptly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, the baseball cap on your head was about to fall off but thankfully with your reflexes, you were able to catch it in the nick of time— however, at the price of your own hair.

“here, i got you,” oikawa extends his hand out to your head and starts to brush away at your mess of a hair. “if it makes you feel better, it’s on the house.”

“i was gonna make you pay anyways.” you stick your tongue out at him playfully, feigning annoyance.

“pft, and you brought your wallet anyways?” he grabs your wrist and pulls it up so that you could see the object in your hands.

“it has my id in it you doofus,” you roll your eyes but there’s a hint of blush on your face as you realize he’s practically holding your hand. “and what if you forgot your wallet, hm?”

he lets go of your wrist before slipping his hand into his sweatpants pocket and pulling out a black wallet.

“i never forget my wallet sweetheart,” he winks and you laugh. “especially if i know i’m gonna be going out with a pretty lady— don’t wanna leave a bad impression y’know”

“i think you’ve already left quite the impression on me from your stunt earlier.” you bump shoulders with him.

“so see anything you like on the menu?” he puts his hand on the small of your back and guides you over to where the menu is so that you could get a closer look at all of the options the cafe had to offer its customers.

“we’ll... we did come here originally for milk bread,” oikawa notices how deep in thought you are over something as trivial as baked goods and he can’t help but smile a bit when he notices the little pout on your face or the crease that forms on your forehead when you scrunch your face a little bit. “but i wanna try their matcha bread! and their boba looks good, or is it a little bit too early to be drinking boba?”

oikawa’s so lost in thought (*correction: staring at you) that he doesn’t even realize that you’ve been trying to grab his attention by calling his name 5 times— and it’s only when you physically have to shake him a bit that he snaps out of his little daydream.

“oh, sorry!” he gives you an apologetic smile. “what’s up?”

“i was asking if you wanted to share one of their drinks with me but you were too busy staring at me to hear.” you sneer. “do you have a crush on me or something? heh.”

“pshhh, no way!” he has a sheepish look on his face that you can’t stop yourself from laughing at.

“you better not go falling for me anytime soon, you playboy.” you jest while nudging him with your elbow.

“i’m pretty sure i should be the one telling you that,” he rolls his eyes playfully. “i’m surprised you haven’t confessed your undying love for me yet.”

“i don’t fall in love that easily, pretty boy, and i certainly do not fall in love with someone i’ve only recently met.” you snort at his comment.

“hi there! are you two ready to order?” a voice startles you and oikawa as you both turn your heads towards a woman standing behind the counter.

“oh i’m so sorry about that! i’m sure you didn’t come to work just to see the two of us play around.” you giggle as the woman mirrors your action.

“it’s nothing new to me, it seems like this place is a hotspot for couples to come and hang out so it’s kind of the norm for me now.” she reassures you.

“are you a college student?” you ask the cashier, taking note on how she looked to be around your age.

“i actually graduated from culinary school about 2 years ago,” she starts off. “my parents supported me throughout my 4 years of culinary school, but when it came down to actually opening this cafe, my boyfriend— well, fiancé now— helped me look for a good place to rent out and it was history from there!”

“it was a bit hard at first since i was still fresh out of culinary school and i could barely start this business with the funds i had saved up, but thankfully my boyfriend was able to pitch in and help make my dreams come true,” she continues and you feel your heart grow fuzzy at how whenever she mentioned her boyfriend, her face would soften and a small smile would make its way onto her face. “i honestly cannot imagine a life without him, he’s been with me since high school so he’s always known about my longtime dream of owning my own cafe. he’s always been my rock during my hardest times and— oh my! i started rambling didn’t i?”

she starts to apologize for burdening you with her life story, but you dismiss her worries by waving your hands in front of you, oikawa laughing and copying your motions.

“i think he’d be really happy to hear that you think so lovingly of him.” your lips curve into a gentle smile, which the woman reciprocates.

“what’s your name?” she asks.

“i’m y/n! and this big guy is tooru.” oikawa waves at the woman, her following suit.

“ah i see! well y/n and tooru, my name is maia and it’s so nice to meet you two!” she brings her hand out for a handshake, which you and oikawa return. “are you two college students?”

“yeah! i’m actually a student at the university of irvine!” you answer enthusiastically. “tooru is just visiting from argentina at the moment so i wanted to take him around the area before he left.”

“argentina, really?” her mouth forms an ‘o’ shape. “it must be hard doing long distance, huh? i couldn’t even imagine if my fiancé and i had to live that far away from each other.”

you and oikawa turn to look at each other in confusion before an invisible lightbulb goes off in both of your heads and you bring your attention back onto maia, who’s now equally as confused as you two are.

“we’re actually not dating!” the pink hue from earlier creeps back onto your cheeks and from the corner of your eye you can see oikawa fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. “i met him at one of the frat parties i went to last week and we kind of just clicked.”

“i’m so sorry for assuming!” she has a distraught look on her face and you’re quick to tell her that it was just a misunderstanding. “you two just look really cute together, plus i’m also really used to a lot of couples coming here that i was quick to assume that you two were dating!”

“i mean, we’d be a cute couple right, y/n-chan?” gone was the nervous oikawa you saw just a second ago, and back was the cocky oikawa you all know and love.

“you wish!” you scoff, not bothering to shrug off the arm he slung around your shoulder.

“anyways, is it alright if we can get two of your milk breads as well as a matcha bread and a oolong milk tea with boba?” you order and maia quickly input the order into the tablet in front of her.

“will that be all for you today?”

“anything else you want, oikawa?” you ask him but he shakes his head in response. “i think that’ll be all for us today then, maia.”

you’re about to insert your card into the chip holder when suddenly oikawa grabs your arm and plucks the card out of your hand.

“h-hey! what are you doing? give me my card back!”

“didn’t i tell you that it was on the house earlier?” he looks at you with a teasing smirk on his face and before you could protest again, a pleasant sound comes out of the machine, signaling that the transaction was successful.

“such a gentleman! you should snatch him up before someone else does, y/n!” maia coos.

“i think it’d be best for someone else to snatch him up, i don’t think i could handle all of... this.” you motion to his entire body.

“are you flirting with me?” oikawa had a shit-eating grin on his face that you were so tempted to wipe off, but his actions from less than a minute ago still caught you off guard and you had to admit, you were glad he wasn’t a cheapskate and offered to pay in your stead— well, more forced you out of paying.

“thanks, oikawa,” you didn’t know what you had the other day to make you act so bold, but you stood on your tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek out of gratitude. “for being the only gentleman on campus, even though you’re technically not a student here.”

out of instinct, oikawa’s hand immediately flys up to the spot where your lips touched his skin and starts to graze it.

“heh, i like your spunk, y/n.” he shows you a cheeky smile.

“don’t let it get to your head, it was just a complimentary kiss.” you laugh and it sounds more melodious than usual to oikawa’s ears for some reason.

“so...” he starts and you let out a small ‘hm?’ which prompts him to continue. “do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

“i don’t think so? i have the dorm all to myself from when reina goes to her blind date and up until she comes back, so if you wanna do something then i don’t mind squeezing you into my schedule!” you reply, but a thought suddenly resurfaces in your mind. “no frat parties though, i heard one of iwaizumi’s friends are hosting one tonight but i don’t think i can think about another frat party without having to gouge my eyeballs out.”

“got it, no frat parties,” oikawa chuckles. “if it makes you feel any better, i never liked those frat parties anyways and i only went because iwaizumi is the only person i know here which meant i was obligated to follow him around everywhere but now that i know you, it changes the whole game!”

“i’m just as new to california as you are oikawa, don’t get your hopes up too high.”

“but that’s the fun part about it, right? we get to explore california together! it really feels like we’re a couple don’t you think?” he blurts out in the heat of the moment but quickly comes to realize the weight of his words. “oh shit— sorry... i hope you’re not uncomfortable hearing me say that out loud.”

“not at all!” you look down at your shoes for a fleeting moment before looking back up at oikawa. “it’s quite... endearing? i’ve never really had a lot of ‘guy friends’ and mostly hung around with girls so this is the first time i’ve ever really had a guy show any interest in me— platonically of course!”

“and you’ve never ever had a boyfriend before?” oikawa lifts an eyebrow.

“nope, never even had my first kiss,” you say but you think back to the events that took place last night. “well, up until yesterday...”

you tried to hide the grimace on your face as the memory of you and iwaizumi kissing kept playing on repeat in your mind, but oikawa was able to see right through your mask and clenched his fists as he recalled the distressed look on your face when he and reina found you crying in the bathroom.

oikawa believed that you should have deserved to have your first kiss taken by someone who truly loved you, but instead, it was taken away by his scum of a best friend, who, he was currently disappointed in for treating you the way he did last night.

oikawa is about to open his mouth up to say something, but he’s interrupted before he even gets a chance to say anything when maia announces that your order is ready.

“it smells so good, maia!” you say after you skip over to the other side of the counter and take a whiff of the freshly baked pastries.

“oh you’re making me blush, y/n!” maia cups her cheeks bashfully while you laugh at her antics.

you shake up the cup of boba so that the pearls were evenly distributed throughout the drink before taking a straw and puncturing a hole through the film on top of the cup, taking a small sip after you mix the drink around one last time with the straw.

“mhm! so good!” you lean back, not realizing that oikawa had moved to stand right behind you, resulting in you crashing into his chest.

“shit, you scared me oikawa!” you laugh as you slap his chest. “want some?”

you hold the straw up to his lips, and you notice the way his eyes widen by a fraction.

“you wanna share?”

“well yeah? unless you’re scared of getting cooties or something, what are you? 12?” you tease. “or are you worried that it’s an indirect kiss? i can always get another—”

your rambling is cut off when his lips wrap around the straw and he takes a long sip of the drink in your hand.

“there, we just indirectly kissed!” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before shooting you a goofy grin.

“pft, how childish do you have to be to be freaked out over an indirect kiss.” you mumble, but it doesn’t cover up the blood that rushes up to your face, painting your cheeks in a pinkish hue which oikawa finds endearing.

part one | part two | part three | part four

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[redheadbigshoes]

hiii I’m also a 5’4 lesbian!! I just wanted to share my story bc I thought some ppl might relate to it (sorry for the long ask, I tried to condense it as much as possible). I used to think I was straight when I was 14 and first exploring my sexuality, bc I had previously dated one boy in middle school and one boy in high school. I didn’t totally dislike dating them either - I liked the close friendship but I HATED the hand-holding and hugging, and the first time my ex bf tried to kiss me, I punched in him the stomach (we were 12 at the time). I thought maybe it was just cos I was young and I’d get used to physical intimacy as I got older. Then I got older, and I developed a crush for one of my best friends, and she was a girl. I always wanted to get close to her, or find some ways to touch her, or get her to laugh and smile. She made me realize that I liked girls, so I settled with pansexual, bc I was just a teenager and I thought that some men were pretty to look at & since I had already dated two boys then I must be attracted to them. Throughout hs I ended up only dating girls, but I still solidly believed I was pansexual. I also kind of went thru an identity crisis when I got to my freshmen year in college - questioning my gender & sexuality, tried the transmasc label for a while, the whole 9 yards. I no longer resonate w that label, but I feel a lot more confident w my identity now (cis lesbian woman) after trying out so many different things. I met my current gf in college, and it was just like something clicked - that I was really only attracted to and wanted to be with women. While yes, I do find some men aesthetically pleasing and the thought “yeah he’s kinda cute” crosses my mind, I’ve never felt compelled to really date any men. I only did it when I was younger bc I was becoming best friends w those guys and I thought the natural progression was to start dating - plus we were kids, and I feel like kids tend to start “dating” pretty quickly even without there being true feelings towards one another. So I’ve only ended up identifying as a lesbian for the past 3 years of my life, but it’s the one I’m sticking with until I die. And my gf is actually my fiancé now ^_^ ig my life lesson is: explore yourself!! Don’t be afraid to try out things you feel like you might identify with! You never know what’s deep inside if you don’t try it out….

Oh this is so cute! I’m so happy for you and your fiancé!

I relate to a lot of the things you said. I’d try dating boys because that’s what other girls were doing, and I’ve never really questioned that. When I realized my attraction to women I used to identify as bi, because I couldn’t tell the difference between finding men attractive and being attracted to them, also because my experiences kissing boys and anything like that were not bad, so in my mind if they weren’t negative then it meant I was still attracted to them. The thing is: I wouldn’t feel anything when doing that with boys, and if you’re attracted to a person you’re supposed to feel something positive.

Growing up lesbians were showed very stereotypically as being masculine and knowing their sexuality since always. That was also one of the reasons I didn’t think I was a lesbian, because I didn’t fit any of those stereotypes.

Questioning your gender as a lesbian is very common, I did that too. But then I realized just because society has pretty wrong views of what is womanhood, that didn’t mean I wasn’t a woman. I’ve never felt uncomfortable identifying with my biological sex and the only reason why I started questioning that was because I began interacting a lot with queer people online and discovered all different non-binary identities and I began questioning if it was possible that I could be non-binary. Turns out just like you I’m not, I’m a cis woman and I’m way more comfortable being a cis woman now that I know I’m a lesbian than back when I still thought I was attracted to men.

[galactichoneybee92]

Disorganized Thoughts on Sex Education Season 3

I binge watched the entirety of season 3 on Friday, and after sitting with it for a couple days, I have composed myself enough to offer some thoroughly disorganized thoughts on what I’ve seen. 

     While I did enjoy many things about this season, I don’t understand the people who claim it was the strongest. In fact, I believe that it was the weakest. I don’t know what exactly happened during the delay, but I swear they have to have lost staff. Writers, perhaps editors? Whoever usually reins things in a bit, keeps the show grounded, and everyone in character. Whoever had that job, they’re either gone, or they’ve just stopped giving a fuck which, while relatable, is unfortunate in regards to this show. Now what do I mean by that? Let me elaborate:

1. This season was gross. And I don’t mean in general, like I didn’t like it. No, I mean that the writers decided that being sexually explicit wasn’t funny enough and decided to add just a fuck-ton of fart jokes and toilet humor. And I get it, okay? This show prides itself on being crass. But you can be crass without being disgusting. I acknowledge that this comes entirely down to personal preference, but I can’t stand toilet humor and I feel like this season really ramped it up. Every episode was someone farting or talking about shit, or that god forsaken thrice cursed bus scene. Sex doesn’t gross me out, talk about sex all fucking day I don’t care, but I don’t need to watch an extended scene of someone digging their own shit out of a bus toilet in a sock and chucking it out the window onto someone’s car. And even just smaller things, like Aimee talking about the flour constipating her or her taking a massive shit in Jean’s toilet when she and Maureen were there. Those scenes weren’t necessary for the plot in any way, which leads me to believe they were just there because someone thought they were funny and if that’s you’re thing go off, but it most definitely isn’t mine. 

2. Ruby and Otis. And more importantly, what was the point of Ruby and Otis? Now don’t get me wrong, I like Ruby as a character and I found their relationship interesting. And I think that it would have been even more interesting if the writers had devoted more time to properly developing it- Ruby was getting better as a person but she wasn’t there yet. I liked it once Otis started standing up for himself more, and demanding respect in the relationship and as she started to actually care for him she did come to treat him more respectfully. I think with more time they could have been really good. But they didn’t get that time- she said she loved him and they didn’t even work through that fiasco before he was kissing Maeve at a gas station. Overall it had a lot of potential but the way they played it left me just sitting here like...why? Like from a narrative standpoint what was even the purpose? Because from where I’m sitting it really only served as yet another roadblock standing between Otis and Maeve and even though I shipped them like CRAZY in season 1 and 2 the constant unnecessary roadblocks are getting a little old. Which leads me to my next point...

3. Why was Maeve and Otis so unsatisfying? That’s not actually a rhetorical question, I can tell you: Because the writers put so little effort into what is supposed to be the main couple on the show. I feel like they put more effort into keeping them apart and then when it comes time to put them together they’re just kind of like NOW KISS, they only talk like once after and then they ship Maeve off to America. Now I’ve heard rumors that Emma Mackey might not want to return to the show for season 4 so if I had to guess at all of this I would say that both this point and the last was a sloppy attempt to cover their asses in the event that they can’t get her to sign back on. If she does return, they can explore the relationship between her and Otis in season 4. If she doesn’t, they’re probably going to put him back with Ruby. But they couldn’t just write her off without at least touching on the relationship they spent the past 2 seasons building, even though Otis and Maeve barely interact in this season, which is frankly another reason why it felt so shoddy. They spent exponentially more time talking to other people and then half the time when Otis was talking to her he was super cringe. 

     Overall, despite loving their relationship initially, the characters have changed so much from their original dynamic, and have interacted so little, that I really don’t even know what’s pulling these characters together. It’s disappointing to admit that I’m kind of over it but honestly even the writers don’t feel invested. it kind of feels like they put them together because the audience expected it and after 3 seasons of anticipation the payoff was generally underwhelming. 

4. Otis. Just...Otis. I understand that Otis was introduced as being a very nice helpful character in season one. He was the quintessential good guy. And then in season 2 he got to explore being a douche for a bit- which is fine. He is a teenager and he was going through some shit. But I really felt that by the end of season 2 he should have resolved that particular plot point. And he was a little better in season 3 I guess? But he didn’t really progress until the end of this season and from a writing standpoint I feel like they really dragged that out for too long. 

5. What’s with this show and it’s hard on for cheating? Like seriously, why does almost every relationship have some kind of infidelity. Like, were Otis and Ruby officially broken up when he kissed Maeve? Maeve certainly hadn’t broken up with Isaac, and this was almost directly on the heels of their very emotional sex scene. There was the issue with Jean and Jakob last season, and Eric cheating on Rahim with Adam. And then Eric (for some reason) cheating on Adam this season with random Nigerian dude whose name I can’t remember. Just...why is this a thing? 

     But also can we just talk about how weird the break up was? And out of left field? Like they literally spent the whole season developing their relationship, and then they get to Nigeria and after hiding the whole time he is subtly able to talk about Adam to his grandmother. And he sounds so proud, and so nice when he’s doing so, and not at all like he’s planning to end this wonderful relationship he’s describing. And then when he gets back, guilty after cheating on said boyfriend (like he should be) he asks Adam, seemingly as a test, if he would go out to a club with him. And Adam says no because that isn’t his scene and like...Eric knows that isn’t his scene. But at the same time, I feel like if Eric had sat him down and been like “You don’t have to wear makeup or dress outlandishly, just come to the club with me because it’s important to me” I really think Adam would have gone. And if the clothes and make-up were a dealbreaker like...why? You know who you’re dating. And while wanting him to tell his mom isn’t an overwhelmingly outrageous request, when you start getting into his physical appearance then that’s just actually trying to change him as a person and that’s just a really shitty thing to do. 

6. I promise there will be some positives in this list at some point but before that...what the fuck Eric? Like, I understand that Eric wants to get out there and explore his options, find someone more comfortable doing the things that he wants to go do. That’s realistic I guess, your high school relationships don’t work out and just because Adam came out for him he still isn’t obligated to stay in a relationship with him. But from a fictional narrative standpoint? What the fuck is this? Adam and Eric were one of the most popular ships on the show. They have been foreshadowed since season one, and had so so much effort put into developing them both as characters. Adam has come such a long way. They have brought him so far out of him comfort zone that Adam in season 3 is almost a completely different person to Adam in season 1. They spent so much of this season further developing the relationship they established last season, and for what? To break them up at the very end? WHY? 

7. Following on the heels of point 6, Aimee and Steve. They didn’t need to break up. I understand the direction the writers were taking this- Aimee wants to be single for a while to fully process her trauma and get to know her own body again. And that’s valid. I just don’t like it because I very strongly suspect that she will have a new love interest next season and that all her stuff about being single isn’t going to be shown. It will all happen off screen during whatever time skip they employ between seasons and then they’re going to use the fact that she is single to introduce a new more dramatic love interest for her since golden retriever boy Steve wasn’t interesting enough for them. Maybe that’s just me being cynical but if anyone can come out of season 3 NOT feeling a little cynical it would probably be a miracle. 

8. A positive! Finally a positive! I love the relationship between Adam and Rahim. Do I want them to date? Not particularly. I wouldn’t be mad if it happens, but I really just like them as like awkward begrudging friends. Some of my favorite scenes this season were the interactions between the two of them (Once again, the disgusting bus ride notwithstanding) I like Rahim a lot more when he isn’t interrupting my ship (which is a habit of mine. I liked Ola a lot more once she broke up with Otis) 

9. I don’t think Viv was out of character. Some people have been saying that she was, but I don’t think so. She has always been ambitious and even Jackson understand that about her in the show. And even when she was working for Hope and carrying out her rules, she was never an antagonist because she never gave up her personal morals to do it. For example, when Hope had them divided into boy and girl lines, Jackson asked her where Cal should go. She told him that boys went to the left and girls went to the right but as soon as Cal was like “Im not a boy or a girl,” Viv was immediately like, “ Oh! Right! Let me ask Hope.” She approached the situation in a way that made it clear that she recognized this issue as a legitimate problem and when she went to Hope it wasn’t framed like “This person is being an issue refusing to choose,” but instead like “We didn’t account for this possibility, that was our bad. How should we fix it?” Later on, on the class trip, Viv even lied to Hope and told her everything was fine because she didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. Viv took the opportunities presented to her, but I never interpreted it as her being an antagonist in any way. 

10. I love that Viv and Jackson remained friends, and I love that Viv has her sexy long-distance boyfriend who sexts about wheat XD Her sexting was one of my favorite scenes- well written, laugh out loud hilarious. No complaints. Sexy boyfriend was indeed very sexy and honestly, Viv absolutely deserves him. 

11. Mr. Groff better apologize to Adam next season, or at the very least have any kind of fucking conversation with his son at all or else why the fuck did I watch SO MANY scenes developing him as a sympathetic character? They could have spent that time developing ANYONE, but instead we were focused on him so like...I’m going to need some kind of payoff. Make it relevant

12. I want more bonding scenes between Adam and Maureen. I love Maureen- I love her friendship with Jean and I love how she always chooses her son over  her estranged husband (as she should) I especially love her very loving and supportive relationship with Adam, even though Adam is terrible at communication. It’s a self indulgent wish, I’d just like to see more. 

13. Isaac. I made many posts after the season 2 release, about how much I despised Isaac. Unlike Ola, I find that I didn’t have a complete change of heart but I don’t hate him AS MUCH as I did before. I still don’t like him though and while you might think “Yeah but you hate anyone who stands in the way of Otis and Maeve” no. This is historically accurate and yet, this season? Not true. For example, I don’t hate Ruby. Do I think her inclusion in the story was handled poorly in a way that made the entire plot point unnecessary? Yes I do. I also feel that way about Isaac, but less so because I feel like the relationship between him and Maeve deepening was better foreshadowed and was kind of the natural conclusion given the events of the previous season. As a character though, I still don’t really like him, and after 2 seasons of him I don’t think it has anything to do with him interfering with Maeve’s relationship with Otis- I just legitimately don’t like him. And I don’t like him with Maeve. I think the biggest irritant this season was the way that, after confessing about deleting the message he was like “yeah I fucked up but only because I like you so much, just forgive me” And then at one point I believe I remember Maeve apologizing to him for her reaction to everything. But then when he found out that she kissed Otis (admittedly a shitty thing to do) he got so mad and like, held a fucking grudge about it. And I get it, he has a right to be mad, but also boy you were the one groveling like 2 episodes ago get over yourself. They both fucked up in different ways but he acts like he has the moral high ground all the time and it gets really annoying. I don’t know, maybe I’m letting my general dislike of the character color my perception of events, but this show has managed to change my opinion on characters before but it still hasn’t made me like him so I think it’s just not going to. 

14. What the hell were they trying to do with Hope? Like legitimately, what? Because I can’t quite figure it out. And that’s mostly because I feel like they were trying to make her a nuanced and sympathetic villain, but they broke a cardinal rule- To make a villain sympathetic you must also ensure that nothing they do is inherently irredeemable. For example, principal Groff. He was a grade A dick for the past 2 seasons but I still feel that, now that we have a sympathetic backstory, if handled properly he could still come back from this. He can see the error of his ways and if he works really really hard to make amends to his family he could perhaps have his character turned around. In Hope’s case however, I would argue that they did makes her nuanced, but failed to make her sympathetic because as a character she went too far. If they had stuck to her just being a general tyrant of a headmaster - enforcing strict rules and regulations but doing so out of insurmountable pressure from her own bosses -  and then softened us towards the character by showing us her willingness to help Maeve get a scholarship, her troubled marriage, and her inability to conceive, it could have worked. The trouble is when they brought in her racism and general bigotry. Those weren’t flaws brought on by stress, those were deeply rooted character flaws that the character isn’t going to overcome because by the end of the season the character hasn’t even admitted them to herself. The issues were addressed by others, but not by Hope herself, leaving me to believe that the character herself still views them as a nonissue. I would be very surprised if she even appears in season 4 and moreso if they manage to even half-way redeem her. I’m relatively certain we won’t see her again, which makes me question the effort put into her character development. 

15. I like Jakob as a character, I don’t like him as a love interest for Jean, but I LOVE him as a father figure for Otis. It’s very conflicting because I want him to stay in Otis’s life, but I don’t like him as a romantic interest for Jean. also it’s pretty clear he isn’t Joy’s father so that’s going to be an awkward fucking conversation. If she even tells him. The way the show is going I kind of feel like she won’t, or will at least put it off for as long as possible. 

16. I want more interaction between Otis and Jean. Positive interaction, not just her being intrusive or Otis being a little bitch. I like their mother-son dynamic when they’re getting along so I just generally want more of it. 

17. Adam. Adam has become my favorite character in this show and I just generally want more of him and his relationships with others. I love his relationship with his mother but I want more if him and Emily, and him and Ola and now him and Ruby. I want to see him and Ruby discussing the Kardashians. I want him to train Madam and enter her in more competitions and just ultimately grow his social circle. Get all the love and support for god’s sake this boy needs it. 

Im sure there are plenty of things I’m forgetting and you can ask me about them if you like but for now it’s late and I’m tired. 

[readyplayerhobi]

Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 05

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, future smut

; Word Count: 3.5k

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: Not as much of an ‘interesting’ chapter as the last one, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it all the same! I know some of you have been hoping to see this character and what their thoughts are all about what’s going on. This chapter is more of one that’s just self-assessing!

Last Chapter ; Next Chapter

-

You don’t go to breakfast the next morning. Not because you’re trying to avoid Hoseok or anything, but because you didn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning and so slept through the morning meal. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had kept your mind occupied instead of letting you drift off.

Thankfully, no one questions your absence. It might be because most of the castle is likely sleeping in today or is packing for the Hogwarts Express. You don’t have to be present when the students begin their journey back to London and you feel that’s probably a good thing at the moment. 

The awkwardness between Hoseok and you would be excruciating for anyone to be around, particularly yourself. So you’d burrowed into your duvet when the usual alarm went off and only woke up properly around noon. 

You’re still in bed though, the covers pulled up to your chin and helping you to feel snug and warm against the constant coolness of your stone room. Which means that you’re staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom intently, brows furrowed as you think over the night before once more.

As if you haven’t already replayed every moment in excruciating detail, latching onto the most ridiculous things. For instance, you couldn’t stop thinking of what Hoseok’s lips looked like up close or the heady scent of him that no longer inspired only safety and friendship in you. How hot his hands had felt against you.

It was embarrassing how often that thought morphed into you imagining the same scenario but minus any clothes. Would his hands be warmer? Would they be as gentle as they’d been on your back last night? Would his hands feel soft on your bare skin or would you be able to feel the subtle callouses formed from years of caring for magical animals?

Groaning out loud, you roll onto your side and bury your face into your pillow. How are you meant to face him when all you can think about is the taste of him on your lips? 

A delicate chiming causes you to peek at your bedside cabinet, eyes narrowing as the noise repeats itself. You don’t even need to check to see who it is; you know already. So you reach out and blindly grasp for the magic mirror, eventually feeling your fingertips pressing against the smooth, reflective surface.

Now your grimace is more because you know that you’ve just smeared fingerprints all over. But you don’t get a chance to clean it because as soon as you look at the hand-sized surface, it activates with a gentle tinkling. The silver mirror shimmers slightly and you’re left looking at the image of Jisoo’s pretty face, smiling at you.

For a moment, you forget that you’ve not even bothered to get out of bed yet. You’ve not been able to shower, and the crustiness of your eyes tells you that your makeup wasn’t removed either. You’d obviously been in more of a fugue state than you’d realised when you’d gotten back to your quarters.

Normally it wouldn’t bother you as Jisoo has seen you in much worse states. But this had been caused by Hoseok, her brother. Her little brother. Her little brother who was incredibly attractive, a great kisser and had looked at you like you’d hung the stars when you’d pulled away from him.

As you think that, you immediately remember his annoyance at any topic relating to age and feel like hitting your forehead. Chaeyoung was right; he did like you. Merlin, how stupid were you to miss all those obvious signs he’d been giving? The poor guy had been practically shouting it from the rooftop for weeks now.

“I’m so stupid!” You curse, spitting out a few more severe swear words after that to the surprise of Jisoo. It’s not helped when you notice how similar they look, maturity making the familial genes even more prominent between the two. Just your luck.

“Hi...are you okay?” She asks, her brow furrowing in concern and you sigh deeply. Ignoring her question for a few seconds, you take the time to push yourself up the bed and fluff up the pillows, letting them act as a backrest for you to prop yourself up. A quick spell cleans your face and mouth, studiously ignoring the fact that it’s considered lazy to use magic for these kinds of tasks.

Still, you feel a little more refreshed and not like one of those zombies from muggle television shows.

Taking a deep breath, alongside a few swallows of water from the glass you always keep by your bed, you pick up the mirror once more and smile at Jisoo. It’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t buy it though and you didn’t expect her to. She’s known you too long to let you get away with pretending, so you drop it quickly.

“I’m...okay, I promise. I just...I’m a little confused about something.” You’re not entirely sure that you want to admit the fact that you might fancy her little brother just yet. Jisoo is very open-minded and she’d always thought Hoseok’s obvious feelings when he was younger had been cute. But the unrequited emotions of your teenage brother are very different from the mutual attraction between your adult brother and your adult best friend.

“Oh? Did something happen last night? Hoseok was acting a little strange as well when I talked to him earlier.” The urge to sink under the covers is very strong when you hear that, but you use pure will to remain in place.

Of course, they’d already talked. 

Scanning Jisoo’s face closely, you try to use your own best friend's sixth sense to see if she already knows that you’d kissed him last night. But she’s either a master of acting or she has no idea because there’s only genuine concern in her expression.

You feel the need to talk though and you want to do that with your best friend, even if she is Hoseok’s sister. The feelings you have are confused and you just want to try to sort through them all. 

“I kissed Hoseok last night.” The words rush out in a breath, almost mumbling with how quiet they are. Still, Jisoo hears them perfectly thanks to the spell on the mirror. From the way her eyes widen in shock, you know that Hoseok hasn’t revealed that little tidbit to her. Part of you wonder if that’s to protect your privacy, but you don’t get a chance to consider it further.

“Merlin...so that’s why you’re both being odd! What happened? It was the Winter Solstice Ball, right?” Relaxing back, you nod and make an affirmative noise while chewing on your lips.

“Yeah, it was. It was all going fine, the students were having a good time and all that but then Hoseok finally arrived and-” Pausing, you frown before groaning out and running a hand across your face. “You don’t want to hear this! This is your brother.”

“Ignore that. As long as you don’t give me...descriptive details then it’s fine. This is one time that I have no interest in hearing about how well he kisses or what he’s like in bed, so keep that to yourself. Otherwise, keep talking.” Mortification runs through you at Jisoo’s mischievous smile and she laughs in delight.

“We didn’t do that! I swear.” Muttering, you reach for your glass and take another swig in an attempt to give yourself time to get yourself under control. Partially because you’re embarrassed about Jisoo thinking you’d slept with her brother so quickly but also because you’re feeling a little warm at the thought of sex with him.

A thought that you’d likely come back to at a later time but isn’t something to consider right now.

“I didn’t think you had. Firstly, you’ve never been the kind of person to shag someone on the first date. Or before the first date, I guess, as you’ve not even had a date. Secondly, neither is Hoseok. Don’t ask how I know, I’m surprised he didn’t blurt this news out this morning.” One of your eyes narrows in contemplation at that and you realise that you don’t want to ask.

The idea of Hoseok sleeping with someone else causes an unpleasant sensation to bubble in your stomach. Something else you don’t feel like analysing at the moment.

“Okay...well...firstly, I hate the word ‘shag’ and you know it. Secondly, I’m really confused right now. I mean, objectively I’ve known Hoseok is hot. Like, I’m not stupid. I have eyes and he’s well...yeah. But I think I’d always managed to have some kind of barrier between us, you know? Like...he was your little brother and he was just my friend here. But then last night he came into the hall and Merlin. It was like something switched in my mind, and I finally realised that he’s not just attractive, but he’s...he’s my kind of attractive.” You realise halfway through talking that you’re just telling Jisoo your thought process as you go through it.

She doesn’t respond though, just gives a considerate look with her lips slightly pursed before taking a sip of her drink. You don’t know what she’s drinking as it’s a mug, the image on the front just a generic cat. The fact it’s not moving gives away that it’s a muggle creation.

“And then we just kept talking, all night. Even when we had duties, we kept meeting back up and it felt so natural and normal. It’s like I’ve known him for all my life or something, our conversation is so easy and I don’t feel uncomfortable around him. You ever have that with someone?”

“Once or twice. It’s a good sign though. I know you’ve become pretty good friends over the last few months so maybe that’s why it’s all clicking now. Relationships that start from a solid friendship usually end up being some of the best. Maybe that’s why it’s all feeling a little more natural than normal. You’ve found someone that makes you feel comfortable and safe.” You wonder how many times you’d told Jisoo that her brother inspired those feelings within you since being here at Hogwarts.

As that runs through your mind, you suddenly become distracted with an entirely different thought.

“Hang on, did you suspect that I might like him? You’ve always been very accepting of my friendship with him and if I remember right, you’ve been the one encouraging me to spend time with him. Is that why you’re not surprised at this?” Jisoo’s cheeks blush a pretty pink, so like her brother that you can’t help but smile.

“I may have suspected something. I am your best friend, after all. And his sister. When you’re close to both sides, you notice things.” Her voice is teasing and you wonder if other people have been suspecting this as well. 

Suddenly, all the times your fellow professors had arranged for events and Hoseok had happened to just be attending as well began running through your mind. Was everyone scheming?!

You’d never considered yourself a suspicious person before but you certainly were now. Seokjin and Chaeyoung, in particular, were going to be at the end of a very serious set of questions whenever you next saw them.

“In all seriousness, I didn’t think that you might like him. I just thought you were enjoying having a good friend at Hogwarts as Hoseok is someone you already know, so you at least had a link with him. You finding him nice to look at was expected; I’m not stupid, I know he’s pretty. He’s my brother and I’m gorgeous,” There’s a slight smirk to her smile, and you roll your eyes at her ego, fully recognising that she’s trying to cheer you up. “But you never really gave the inclination that you wanted anything romantic with him, so I didn’t suspect too much with you.”

Humming, your nose wrinkles as you look away from the mirror and contemplate her words. She’s not wrong, mainly because you hadn’t considered that with him until last night. Hoseok had been firmly in the friend box in your mind. It’s only now that you realise he’d been subtly creeping into the romantic box without you noticing.

“That’s because I didn’t realise I wanted that. I feel like I missed something really obvious, and everyone around me knew. I’m pretty sure Chaeyoung and Seokjin knew; there’s no way that they wouldn’t try to interfere. They’re those kinds of people, you know?” Jisoo giggles lightly, running her hand through long, silky black hair.

“Sounds like my kinda folk. Seriously though, don’t stress over it. All you’re going to do by over analysing things is get yourself tied up into knots. I know you and you’ll just talk yourself out of anything that could potentially happen. There’s nothing wrong with going for what you want if it’s going to be good for you. As his big sister, I can safely say that Hoseok will be very good for you and to you. He’s a good guy and I don’t want you to throw away a chance at happiness.” 

You groan yet again, pulling one of your spare pillows to stuff your face into. Even if you’re feeling completely confused about what to think or do, you’re glad that you get to talk it through with Jisoo. She always knows just what to say and how to help you come to decisions that felt right.

Shifting, you sit up straight and look at Jisoo’s image in the mirror, feeling even more thankful that she’s willing to talk about this particular subject. At that thought you frown, knowing that she’s close with her brother.

“Did you suspect anything with Hoseok? You said that you got to notice things from both sides…” Trailing off, your eyes narrow as you watch the way she bites her lip in an almost coy way. It wouldn’t surprise you as she knows her brother far better than she knows you.

“Yes, I did with him. He fancied you so much when he was a teenager and I thought he’d just...grown out of it, you know? Neither of you saw each other for ages so I just assumed his hormones had finally settled down. But then he practically jumped at the chance to help you apply for the job and...well, he’s being very obvious lately. I swear, every conversation has to include you in some way and he gets this look on his face.” Jisoo says, brow creasing as she thinks back.

“What look? Does he get a look? What kind of look?” The questions pepper her but she doesn’t look annoyed by them. Instead, she just smiles before laughing lightly, taking another sip from her mug before taking her time nibbling on a milk chocolate covered digestive biscuit. It makes you scowl, realising you’d given yourself away once more.

“Yes, he gets a look. I don’t know how to describe it to you but it’s like...he gets this smile and I swear his eyes get all shiny. He’d be appalled to know I’d noticed this as he’s never come out and said anything but I know what he looks like when he likes something. Hoseok talks about you the same way he talks about anything else he loves.” The last word makes your eyes widen and you’re thankful Jisoo doesn’t comment on it.

She’s noticed though, you know that she has. 

“Oh, okay. Well...I haven’t noticed.” What a stupid thing to say, but you don’t have anything else.

“Obviously.” Jisoo gives you a droll look, causing you to glare at her. It’s probably not as effective as you’d like given the two of you are hundreds of miles away and only visible through a reflective surface. Still, it makes her laugh at least.

Not the reaction you wanted but you’ll take it.

The conversation between you both falls into a lull, the silence of your room almost deafening. It lets you start to think once more and you don’t think that’s a good idea. Jisoo is right in that you tend to talk yourself out of things that might have a big impact on your life.

You’d taken a whole month to finally apply for the job here at Hogwarts and even then, you’d had to have Jisoo convince you that you should accept the offer when they made it. A good choice now, but you had a constant fear that big change might have negative effects on you.

The possibility of beginning something romantic with Hoseok was perhaps the biggest change you could do and it had the potential for so many repercussions if it went wrong. He was your work colleague, your friend and your best friend’s brother. It wasn’t like if you tried dating him then you could just never see him again.

Hoseok was likely to always be a part of your life in some way.

But he was such a good person and he could be something positive in your life, too. You found him to be charming and kind, funny and thoughtful, intelligent and attractive. There were a lot of reasons against trying a relationship with him, but there were so many more reasons for it.

“Would it not bother you? If anything happened then you’d be stuck between us, and he’s your brother so you’d have to take his side.” Your words are quiet, almost reluctant. Jisoo doesn’t respond immediately though, giving you the benefit of thinking seriously about your question before shaking her head.

“I would be stuck between you both if it ended badly. But I don’t either of you are the kinds of people to make me choose something like that. More importantly, I have high hopes that kind of scenario won’t even happen. I have a good feeling about this, for both of you. You both have to decide what’s right for you but...I don’t have any issue with it. If anything, it’d be great. My best friend and my brother getting together? If you married him then you’d be my sister-in-law and your kids would be my nieces and nephews!” There’s palpable excitement in her voice now, matched by the way she almost vibrates as her imagination runs wild.

You, on the other hand, feel your cheeks going warm with embarrassment as you try to follow where her mind is running. It feels a little overwhelming if you’re being honest, but you just push those thoughts away.

The last thing you needed was to start fantasising about marriage when you’d only kissed the man once.

“Jisoo!” You scold.

“What? I don’t get to live this life of romance so let me have my dreams. I’d rather you marry him than anyone else. Your babies would be so cute.” She wriggles in her seat, hands clapping and you’re reminded once more how similar the siblings are.

“Jisoo,” Whining, you pout at her before rubbing at your temple. “Don’t marry us off before we’ve even talked after last night.”

“Fine, fine, spoilsport. Anyway, it’s your decision. Yours and his. But just know that I think you’d both be good together. Don’t push him away because you’re scared, he’s a good guy. Not saying that just because he’s my brother, either. If you decide no, then don’t be afraid of that either. I know him, he’ll be a gentleman and will accept it.” You know she’s right and it makes you feel a little better as you take a deep breath.

Nodding slowly, you give her a weak smile before wincing when your stomach gurgles almost painfully. A glance at the clock shows that it’s been a very, very long time since you last ate and your stomach is not happy with that. 

“I’ll think it through, I promise. I won’t make any rash decisions. For now, I need to just analyse my feelings and thoughts regarding him before thinking about anything else. But I’ll admit that I’m not opposed to the idea. As much as I’d like to continue this conversation though, I need to go get something to eat or my stomach might eat itself. I’ll talk to you again later, okay?” It’s only a few minutes later before you’re ending the spell on the mirror, watching as it turns into a reflective surface once more.

Placing it onto your bedside table carefully, you let yourself fall back onto the mound of pillows and simply stare up at the ceiling. 

Of all the decisions you’ve made in your life, this one seemed to be the most daunting. Yet just the thought of his bright smile makes your lips quirk automatically, causing you to let out a breathy laugh.

Yes, he’d be good for you.

[camilliar]

recs for someone new to omgcp

[February 2021.]

Reading, or not reading, OMGCP fics has come up in a couple of conversations I’ve had recently with artists newish to the fandom (ie. @jovishark; @decafffff), who are making OMGCP art (!!!) but haven’t started exploring fic -- but maybe want to? Which of course reminded me that I’ve never bothered to make an actual, concrete recs list for this fandom. So, I mean. Here is one.

The approach is, what do I think about when I think about OMGCP fanfic? What comes to mind, what stands out to me? I have excluded some very popular fics. Some of these I just don’t think are very good, and others I do think are good, and/or I enjoy them, but I don’t see why you’d need me, specifically, to recommend them. I am thinking of a story like maybe i’m waking up, which I discuss below because I link to a podfic of it. It has a lot of merits, to be sure, but it’s the second-most-read fic in this fandom by hits, and it’s got thousands of comments, and it’s by an author whose work is relatively widely praised and circulated. I am not sure what telling you more about this fic will add to the conversation; if you want to find and read it, you inevitably will. I’m happy to, say, answer asks about these kinds of fics, or talk more generally about them via DM or whatever. Feel free.

Also, I don’t think there’s a point to pretending to be objective about fanfic; this list has a perspective and that perspective is mine. In this fandom I largely read stories that navigate the tension around Jack, Bitty, and Parse, in various permutations. This is not to say that I’ve never read fic about the frogs, or that I have no interest at all in other pairings, but I am by no means an expert on Dex/Nursey and can really only speak to the one fic about them that sticks out to me because it goes beyond being merely Dex/Nursey and does something else. This is just to say that I am sure there are great and interesting fics about other things and ideas--but I’m not the person to hear about those from.

Likewise, I’m not super interested in stories that really reproduce that which is already in OMGCP. I like Zimbits--albeit maybe not in the ways or for the reasons most fans would--but I do not really need to see endless iterations of the same story about them falling in love and being cute together. I don’t think these stories are bad or they shouldn’t exist or that they have no merit by default. Still, I don’t need fanfic to give me more OMGCP. I need fanfic to complicate, to comment on, and to transform OMGCP. Many people don’t work like this! Totally okay! But I can’t rec you fics that do that.

What I have noticed, however, is that over time there appears to have been a shift in how people do write fic for this fandom. (Other than, you know, increases and decreases in activity pending the status of the comic, pairings going in and out of vogue, and so on.) Early on, say during Y1 and Y2, the comic was about the group of friends having a cool time at college together; about whether the burgeoning attraction between Jack and Bitty would manifest and, if so, how; and, especially, Jack’s past coming into fuller view for Bitty and how it would have to be dealt with in order for a relationship between them to work. YMMV on how great the comic executed there, but as Y3 went on these themes increasingly disappeared from the story. I think this means a lot of fic written over 2015-2016 or 2017 has one kind of tone, and was written mostly around these questions; after that, it feels like a new crop of writers and a new crop of ideas started circulating, that is, either embracing Jack and Bitty’s canon relationship and accepting its relative straightforwardness in text--or deconstructing it, imagining what readers aren’t seeing, or how problems not dealt with in the comic would manifest later. People who have read my fic know which of these I’m mainly interested in exploring.

All of which is to say, looking at what I’m reccing here, when the fics were posted or when I first read them probably has a lot to do with why they stick out to me so much. Because there’s no real culture of fanfic criticism--and I mean that in the positivist sense of broad evaluation not explicitly for fault and merit but rather, for context--I think it’s really hard to keep this in mind. But I’m obnoxious and I can’t just be easy about things.

Fic recs

In alphabetical order, somewhat unsorted; if a stand-alone fic has a summary I’ve included it, but in other cases I’ve recced a couple of conceptually related fics or series, which I’ve tried to just describe or explain as opposed to copying the summary off AO3.

There are so many more fanfics I think are great and worth reading! In an ideal world I’d come back and add more later, or create a secondary list that’s more along the lines of “if you like this, read these,” or whatever. But, being realistic, this is a starter kit. I’m open to talking about fanfic.

- - - - - - - - - - -

7-0-2 by Idday; Friends in Low Places and Sorry for the Blood in Your Mouth; I Wish it was Mine by blue_rocket_frost | I’m not sure it would be correct to say that I don’t like Parse/Tater, or that I’m not interested in Parse/Tater. I’m not interested in Patater a priori; I think it could be interesting, with teeth. These fics stick out to me when I think about this pairing, because they feel different. Accusations of a preference for just linking any two white men who happen to be hanging around have validity, but because of what hockey is and how it works and who’s hanging around it, it’s not exactly a leap to imagine what kind of gritty spark the friction between two closeted NHL players would create. A little violence in your sex? A little sex in your violence.

A Sight Worth Seeing by sadtomato | A four-fic Jack/Bitty/Shitty/Lardo explicit BDSM series. Either you want that or you don’t. It’s nothing hardcore, and not properly a four-way, really; more properly a kind of voyeuristic round-robin. There’s a more open and egalitarian view of sex here than I really get from the characters in the back end of the comic. It’s an expansive, propulsive view of sex and relationships that’s really nice to see. I love Lardo's detached coolness, and Bitty as a smooth operator; if you’re looking for some kind of Dom/sub dynamics world, this really isn’t it, but it’s a lively exploration into the sexual dynamics in a group of friends that’s super close to the good-times vibe you get from Haus scenes in the first couple years of extras.

call me son (one more time) by Summerfrost, Verbyna, and blithelybonny | This is a series, incomplete, and you will love it or be massively put off by it. I mean that as a compliment. I love it. The premise is, Bob Zimmermann and Kent Parson have been having sex since Kent was, like, 19. Everyone in this story has been chewed up: by themselves, by each other, by hockey. Plainly, this is a pretty bleak view of what OMGCP, as a story, is supposedly offering. If you want fic that is dark and glamorous, treading the toxic melange of substance abuse, sex-as-sublimation, and so much money you can’t possibly throw all of it away without trying, this series has that sick-inducing shimmer to it. But, again, its strength is its examination of Kent Parson, textually and meta-textually, as someone to be projected onto. Bob, Alicia, Jack, and Bitty all impute certain feelings of their own onto him, displacing their own issues to a character who’s centralized in every fic but defies neat or total comprehension. Some critiques I’ve read of this series feel it’s too dark, and I’ve also seen it argued on FFA that an overwhelming amount of praise heaped onto these stories has made it tough for other writers to make headway in writing Bob/Kent fic. But I’m also not sure you could engage with Bob/Kent fic without going down this road at some point? I’m sure there are ways to scale it back, but ultimately it’s a story about how hockey’s violent, homophobic, old-guard gatekeeping has continued to set the terms for a younger and ostensibly less toxic culture. I fully embrace PWP fics that tread on the power dynamic without fully excavating it, but buried within any PWP is the fact that a 53-year-old man is ensnaring a 19-year-old, no matter how much the latter is, realistically, into it, and legally empowered to consent. Not to mention the dynamics of it being a 53-year-old man who is the father of the 19-year-old’s ex-boyfriend, and a 53-year-old man who is an eminence grise in the field the 19-year-old is trying to make a career in  The sexual element--the vaguely incestuous nature of it--is making textual the subtext of how hockey works, actually: objectification of teenage bodies as older men’s capital.

Coach Z by thistidalwave | Just before the 2009 NHL Entry Draft, tp prospect Jack Zimmermann overdoses on his anxiety medication and is admitted to rehab. His future turns from a clear-cut road to the top into an uncertain path filled with therapy appointments, ignored text messages, a group of boys who aren't there to teach him a lesson about himself, and, of course, hockey. | I keep reccing this fic because it has 360 comments on AO3 but nobody, as far as I can tell, has ever read it; it never appears on rec lists. This isn’t the kind of fanfic I usually go in for, but I can’t help being charmed by it. This is a character study in the truest sense, a kind of Mighty Ducks-but-better view on what Jack’s time coaching peewee hockey might have been like. I have no interest in kids and my own aesthetic is maybe a little darker than this, but I admire this story because it injects vibrancy into a period of Jack’s life that OMGCP has left largely unexplored, and so has the fandom. We know nothing about what made Jack want to go to college, nothing about how he spent his days in between juniors and Samwell. It posits a very sympathetic and patient Jack/Parse dynamic, showcasing the exact kind of ragged teenage push-and-pull that would have led to the circumstances we see in Parse I-III. The outside perspective Jack needs is largely present in an OFC who’s not a love interest. Super unique, somehow both engrossing and low-key.

#dirtbags by angularmomentum | A series that is a Kent Parson/Claude Giroux fuckfest with feelings. I’ve long suspected that Parse is popular in part because he is the character who most easily elides OMGCP with the actual NHL, or rather, NHL fandom; I think he made it appealing to write OMGCP fics where the NHL is a factor. Case in point, this series, which is basically “what if Kent Parson was a real hockey player and therefore part of NHL RPS”? I have only read some NHL RPS, so I’m not the person to assess accuracy, but what I do know is superstar IRL hockey players take turns here as the caricature fanfic versions of themselves, and since Kent Parson is already that, it’s great how seamlessly he integrates into their social fabric. Rambunctious energy peppered with regret and loss, but ultimately this series is farcical, and it doesn’t take its sentimental ending too seriously--which, good.

fated to pretend by nighimpossible | 5 Jack/Kent fics that Ransom and Holster dramatically reenact for the Haus + the truth. | As a fic format, 5+1 doesn’t usually work for me, but this one isn’t just front-loaded with five too-knowing vignettes; it then wraps up by using its +1 better than you might expect. Sometimes I talk about economy of fic, and this one exemplifies it. A zero-waste fic.

go ahead and move along by originally | "Leave, Parse," Jack says. Again. Or: Kent finds himself stuck in a time loop. | Kent Parson is trapped in a Groundhog Day scenario on the day of Epikegster. I’m sure you can imagine, just from that, what happens. And yet I think this fic is super entertaining, reserving some key surprises. What this story is doing is something a lot, and perhaps even the majority, of great Jack/Parse fic wants to do: digging into the question of just why this can’t work in comic canon. Most often this is approached from the past, by writing teenage Jack/Parse deep-dives that examine their lives mid-juniors, or by writing AUs where enough circumstances are shifted that it does work, or via future fics that posit enough growth has happened, and enough things have changed. But this fic makes Parse live the same bad day again and again, testing multiple theories about just how dependent on circumstance and incident real life actually is. Another day, another tone, 10 minutes sooner, not at all--you just can’t know why it didn’t work until you exhaust every possible variable. I worry that this rec has sucked the life out of the story, though--it’s so fun!

I Saw a Life and Strange Lovers by @bluegrasshole | Most AUs in this fandom seem to retell the story in a new setting or with some big detail change, following OMGCP’s rhythm beat-for-beat. I think of this as, “It’s the plot of Check, Please, but” -- they’re doing high school football? They’re acrobats? They’re a/b/o? They’re in a DIY punk band? And so on. These two stories are not that! They’re both 1950s AUs, each deeply felt, and yet hugely different from each other. I Saw a Life is about displacement and fragmentation, two sides of a similar but incongruent social critique; Strange Lovers is a finely wrought social drama about coal mining in Nova Scotia in the 1950s, centered around historical events. I suppose a theme on this rec list is something like, “I don’t even like this, but” -- yes, okay, I don’t even like Dex/Nursey, but--! This fic is so overwhelmingly complete, the AU laid out so carefully that the story breathes with all the background details informing the writing that aren’t actually, in the story; you just know they’re below the surface. (With the exception of one investigation of Jack’s character in a short, separate fic.) I Saw a Life, meanwhile, really tests the limits of the notion that Jack and Bitty are soulmates--not by calling it into question but by asking, rather innovatively, how the setting and place of the comic itself activates that.

Les Hivers de mon enfance by staranise | What do you do when hockey is the language of prayer for your soul, and also the toxic thing that almost killed you? 2009: Jack Zimmermann takes a mental health year. God knows he needs it. | Here’s a fic by someone who’s no longer around so much, but she felt ubiquitous in 2016-2019 OMGCP fandom. Before any of that, though, she wrote this one lovely fic about Jack’s pre-Samwell recovery. The author is Canadian and really irritated by hockey culture, and I think this fic benefits greatly because she is clear-eyed about Jack’s being caught in an exploitative system; it’s hockey he’s in recovery for, in a way. There’s an epistolary element that works for me, too. I read this early on in my time in OMGCP fandom and it really stuck with me.

Lysistrata? I Hardly Know Her! (by which I mean everything) by @tomatowrites | It feels somehow like cheating to recommend OMGCP fanfics by my OMGCP BFF with whom I make an OMGCP podcast where we talk about OMGCP. You know the fics I really want to rec, like truly the ones that speak to some kind of shared depravity, are the ones where Jack is miserably mpreg for the second time and accidentally lets his kid see Kent Parson’s Long John Silver’s shrimp scampi promo spot, which obviously would get twisted into a self-hating three-way. How many times do I have to rec this fic? As many as I need to, is my feeling. If you don’t know, Long John Silver’s is an American fast-food chain that sells, like, fried pollock sandwiches; it is nautical-themed; I have never eaten there; I don’t know where there is one; I don’t eat fried fish. (Shrimp, on the other hand?) All of which is to say that it takes a real genius to investigate a premise that far out. And while a lot of people almost certainly will start reading this humanity’s depths-themed sex scene and back the fuck out, readers with refined taste will note that Kent, the point-of-view character, is right there with you, despairing that he can’t help himself. And so long as you’re in that story collection, honestly, you’ll love petite gems like Jack is transmasc, Jack and Shitty play hockey in 18th-century England, and oh, right, he’s from Georgia. Tomato holds the distinction of being probably the gamest author I know in this fandom, just really like fearless in her pursuit of any range of concept she’s pushed to. (I can push her to?) See, for example, a sublime bandom AU; Bitty is cancelled for buying a maybe-unethically exported Roman fragment of a youth’s torso; or, god, the masterwork that is this future fic series where Jack keeps relapsing and Bitty exiles him to their guesthouse. Do I think you need to read a fic where Bitty is snide about the teen prostitute whose baby they’re adopting? Yes, I mean, he would be snide, don’t tell me he wouldn’t. I could go on, but my main thing here is, if I have to pick just one, I’m going to pick this Lysistrata fic. The premise, literally, is that Bitty reads the Lysistrata and it gives him ideas. Like most of Tomato’s OMGCP fic, it’s a stripping away of the comic’s polite fiction that Jack and Bitty could possibly attain the ideal it reaches in the comic without some kind of messy, efflusive breakdown. Life is like that, you see! Tricky. Like a lot of people, although it’s tough to say precisely how many, I have always intuited that maybe Bitty is kind of a natural top? But obviously when you meet him, as a literal virgin, it’s hard to see how he’d go from zero to self-actualization so neatly. This fic floats a theory, and it has a fun little side plot for Whiskey, something I never thought about or needed before Tomato built it out herein. In conclusion, BONUS: Dex’s gay lobster novel.

only fools rush in and the light of all lights by decinq | This person wrote of the nature of the wound, one of the early, formative Jack/Bitty fics that was oft-recced when I was getting into the fandom in 2016. It forms part of a larger series that deals deeply with how Jack has been shaped by his struggles (? I hate this word) with homophobia and his own mental health. It’s a picture of the character as you might have imagined him much earlier in the comic’s run. The formatting is atrocious and he author’s flair is what Tomato would call “AO3 house style.” It’s a voice that works great for her writing. I think it’s at its best in these shorter fics; the former is about Parse and Shitty stumbling into a relationship almost accidentally; the latter, an eerie PBJ vampire fic. I had begun writing a fic where Parse is a vampire early on in this fandom, only to read this and immediately quit, because you only need one, and this one’s all I need. The Parse/Shitty rare pair fic shares its exuberance with hockey RPS when it’s good: here’s how fun it can be when you’re young, rich, and jocular. And I don’t even like accidental marriage AUs, they’re usually boring, so that says a lot. By all means, read the wound fic; read the entire series. But these are highly unusual.

OVERDOSE and Oomph and a little spin-o-rama by jedusaur | None of these are long, or plotty, and they’re all a little experimental. OVERDOSE is an AU set in a world where you know how you’ll die, but no details; Oomph, a little fic where Jack hears hockey pucks talking to him. This is the kind of stuff I used to think I’d find in fandom forever, coming out of Lotrips lurking in the 2000s: short, zany bursts of energy that surprise and delight. a little spin-o-rama peers at Kent’s character through the grim reality of being the hypertalented superstar stuck on a dead-last team. All three are sparse and stylish in a way that’s really smart, practically economical.

Sowing Season by @agrossunderstatement | Parse and Zimms, Zimms and Parse. Kent Parson's life, from the Q, through his early years with the Aces, to Jack's senior year. Canon divergent. A story of love, loss, moving on, regressing, hockey, and found families of all kinds. | Effectively a novel, digging into Kent’s personal history, mostly concerning his life in juniors but expanding into his present, overlapping with the plot of OMGCP. I think there is room enough for endless speculations on what went down pre-canon; this one offers a fuller life for Kent than nearly any others, digging into him as a whole person rather than as a satellite to Jack or the plot of the comic. Which isn’t to say that the Kent/Jack stuff isn’t dealt with here; it explicitly is. But the fact of Kent Parson’s life, if we can begin to imagine it beyond mere text, would exist before, after, and alongside Jack; he gets to juniors without Jack, presumably, and he is the captain of a hockey team without Jack, and Pinkerton lays the foundation of Parse’s character within a junior hockey that Jack also inhabits, more so that Parse existing for Jack, so to speak. And I’m not implying this latter tactic is wrong; I have certainly employed it, and others have employed it to great impact and effect. But, still, the title of this series tells you what you ought to know: Kent and his story are the potentiality of OMGCP, up to a point; seeds being planted. Young hockey players, similarly. The question implied there is, what will be reaped? And the answer to the latter, in a sense, that reaping is a sort of violence. Which makes this series sound pretty heavy, but it’s not -- more like, realistic.

(tell everyone) you were a good wife by @queerofcups | The biggest problem with pretending that he doesn’t know that Kent Parson is fucking his husband is that Jack can’t tell Kent how grateful he is. | The ne plus ultra of PBJ triangulation; I’ve been squealing to the writer about how good it is since August, begging for behind-the-scenes insights, and I’d only do that if I really meant it. The precarious social fabric stretched across these three chapters is fraying before the reader’s eyes. The details are delicious, and I don’t want to spoil them, but they sing in chorus with the plot. My favorite OMGCP fics, honestly, remove the romance narrative guardrails that keep things in the comic itself humming along. I think Dann’s take is to ask who in this comic has power and what they would end up doing with it. (Or not doing, from another angle.) At one point, early on in its telling, OMGCP looked like it was going to be a story dealing with the compounded traumas of hockey’s discontents. Then, of course, it wasn’t. This is a fic that steps back and asks what the fallout of that oversight would be. But that’s just the moldering core of this fanfic; it’s actually embroidered, like I said, with glittering detail. The color of the suit Bitty wears to his wedding is burned into my brain. The gray manicure of a woman Jack knows. The ingredients in a cake. This is one of those fics I still haven’t reviewed because the thought of stacking everything I could say about it into mere AO3 comments is inadequate.

when you’re ready by megancrtr | The Aces’ director of communications gets the call at 3:13 a.m. Jack Zimmermann has withdrawn from the draft. | “What happened at the draft” is so mythological it gets asked in the comic proper, and I’ve never counted how many fics attempt to answer this question--from Kent’s point of view, even--but it’s gotta be, oh, hundreds. This story replays the situation from the perspective of an Aces staffer who just wants to do her job, and gets at the jarring discordance between the plot of OMGCP in its quest for social justice and the business of actual hockey. Important context is that this story was written around the time the comic was playing out the end of Y3 and start of Y4, and Bitty pointedly asked Jack the question, “why can’t we?” This story reframes the question as literal, rather than rhetorical. A sterling example of fanfic being a gloss on its source.

BONUS, podfics

hockeyed up | There are many things on Jack's mind. Namely: hockey, hockey, Bitty, hockey, anxiety, hockey, hockey, anxiety, Bitty, hockey, hockey, anxiety, and hockey. | A fic read aloud by its French-Canadian author. Also a relatively early OMGCP fanfic; composed while the first semester of Y2 was posting, the story suggests a version of OMGCP that was in some ways more and in other ways less complex than what it would turn into not long after. The real power of this podfic, however, is that it’s read by the writer, so you can hear the intended emphasis in every line. Also, because she’s French-Canadian, Sophie’s intonation is what I picture when I read or write dialogue for Jack.

maybe i’m waking up | It’s almost funny. All he ever wanted was to play hockey, to play in the NHL, to win the Cup. This—Samwell, the team, the Haus—was supposed to be just a detour, but now it feels more like a destination he failed to realize he’s already reached.(Or: Jack signs with the Falconers, graduates, and leaves. It's the hardest thing he's ever done. What comes after is even harder.) | Don’t get too excited; this isn’t finished. A podfic of probably the best-known, most-recced fic in OMGCP fandom. Striking for its use of metatext woven into the story, this is one of several early longform Jack/Bitty fics that posits that maybe Jack has a lot more development to undergo before he can really, truly, be okay--or be okay enough to be with Bitty? To be honest, this story strikes me now as too long, but the parts in it that work are effective beyond that which fanfic demands. Meanwhile, this audio version only covers six chapters, but it’s so slick, so well-realized, so true to the story. Podfic as art.

my own dear friends | Ever since the day he met Jack Zimmermann, Shitty has seen it as his solemn duty to aggressively love him. (He just didn't know how aggressive the love Jack needed would be.) | There’s previous little Jack/Shitty in this fandom and a lot less quality BDSM,

the city’s ours until the fall | Kent has been, historically, good at this—forgetting about things until suddenly he doesn’t, and then it’s like the scar has never been there in the first place, just the wound. (Or: Kent Parson lets himself be happy, after all this time.) | I’ve never read this fic and I never will. I cannot imagine how, no matter how good it is, it could compare to the version that lives in my head, with Kent’s voice so totally realized. Vocal fry and pathos, a languid energy that I still think about when I think about Parse.

the model home | It’s going to be better, and that’s great, but sometimes Jack thinks, why can’t it be good right now? | j/k j/k, this is a self-reminder to finally one day review this.

[that-otome-potato]

Making Up for Lost Time

This was something I put together for a request sent to me by @lancermylove ages ago. Request: You don't have to do all or even any of the requests I'm sending in. XD Here's my other idea: Kokuyou and s/o grew up together in an orphanage. Kids were mistreated there and s/o was always targeted, but Kokuyou always stood up for her. I imagine kid!s/o not getting food and kid!kokuyou sharing his food with her. They stayed together even through their teen years and even got intimate (nsfw sprinkles, if you like)~. Then one day they had an argument over something at the old Starless, and she disappeared. Kokuyou thought he left her, but she was kidnapped. She was rescued by Kei or Sotetsu and ended up getting engaged to him. When she met Kokuyou, she didn't recognize him, much to his shock. The rest of it, I leave up to your creative mind~. <3 Pairing: Kokuyou x MC (name insert) Rating: NSFW - Explicit Warnings: Kidnapping, detailed sex scene. Note: I'M SORRY THIS IS 6 MONTHS LATE!! PLEASE FORGIVE ME!! Read more to save space because this is a long one...

There were many things Kokuyou found himself regretting throughout his life.  Decisions he’d made only to find out he’d been wrong, actions that ended up hurting himself or others.  There were fights both physical and verbal, arguments that would lead to tears and wrinkled brows.

It was the same with his relations with __________, but it didn’t stop the passions the two of them had afterwards.  Perhaps that was why he sometimes started the heated arguments they would have, because it would often lead to him taking her against any flat surface he could find, the level of privacy depending on how fast he could steal her away from prying eyes.

The two of them had been friends since their days in an orphanage.  __________ was the new kid and some of the older boys were picking on her, stealing her food, the day he met __________.  It was survival of the fittest back in those days and there was something about the way her eyes peered into his, touching him soul deep even when both of them were so young, that drew Kokuyou to her.  He became her personal protector despite her protests.

Many years later, he had been walking down town, skipping school, when he came across a place he’d never seen before. Underneath an unreadable sign, there was a half hidden door that had been propped open. He shrugged and began walking past when he heard music coming from within.  Something about the style made his legs move towards the entrance.  Inside, it was dark all around the stage, but the stage itself? Lit up like the sun shining on snow covered ground in the middle of winter.

After being asked to join when Koharu had discovered him practicing along with the group on stage, Kokuyou brought ___________ in as a stagehand since she couldn’t be a part of the performers and he couldn’t bring himself to not have her near.

~A couple years later~

“Hey you!  Have you seen __________ anywhere?”

The stagehand smiled down at an older Kokuyou.  “Made her run off, have ya?  You two are always attached at the hip, but you sure argue a lot.”

Koharu raised her head up from the other side of the stage where she had been working on some decorations for the next show.  “I saw her run off towards the back door.”

Kokuyou turned to follow, but was stopped by a small hand on his bicep as he passed her. “Kokuyou, I know you’re young and have a lot of time for thoughts of the future, but I know how much __________ means to you.  You guys have been friends - and more - for over ten years.  I know you love this old place, but don’t you think it’s time to choose?  Starless or __________?”

Twenty-one year old Kokuyou threaded his fingers through his hair and released a huff.  “__________ wouldn’t ask me to do that, Koharu.  She loves this place almost as much as I do.”

“Then think of your future.  Is she in it?”

“What do you mean?  Don’t ask me such a stupid question.”

“You might want to remind her of that.  Especially when she sees other girls and women draped over you, night after night.  It’s why you fight more often than not, right?”

Kokuyou stared down at the older woman.  She looked worried about what was going on.  More so than usual.  He just shrugged it off, turning to go back to work.  “Koharu, you worry too much.  She always comes back, you’ll see.”

He rubbed a painful throbbing that had formed in his chest as he went to follow her.

~Six years later~

Kokuyou woke with a start as the memory of the day __________ had disappeared bore down on his subconscious.

She never came back.

He sat up and clutched his head to keep the memories from that time from taking over, but it never worked - they always blocked his vision of anything else until they had run their course.

The memory about how he had waited three days after not finding her in the alley, before he called her phone only to find out her number had been disconnected.  When he had gone to where she worked when not at Starless, they hadn’t seen her in as many days.

‘Must have really pissed her off this time.’ Kokuyou remembered thinking to himself after receiving the news from her job. Eventually, he had left that thought alone in the back of his head.  He’d pined silently for her, kicking himself for fucking up so bad because he never told her his feelings for her. Koharu had been right - it wasn’t his style, but he should have told her that she wasn’t just his fuck buddy and best friend.

All these years later, it was still one of his greatest regrets.  He just threw himself into Starless more after, trying to get past her loss. But it wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be.

At times like this, by himself in his room, he thought about her. His early life was filled with memories of her that played before his eyes now like a movie. How they’d met as kids, the time she had given him a black eye because he was new to teenage hormones and had said something she hadn’t liked.  How they grew up together, were each other’s first kiss. How they had acted on their attraction after he’d graduated, when she was in her third year of high school.

The memories from then on hurt him the most.

Those memories were softer, more intimate, where Kokuyou showed _________ what he felt for her with his body rather than with his words.  He told her how special she was to him when he would carry her bridal style to the bed they shared.

‘You are beautiful’ when he would place kisses all over her barred flesh.  ‘You are my world’ when he touched his lips to the heat between her legs, worshiping her as she deserved, making her cry out in pleasure.

‘I love you’ when he entered her slowly to set a steady pace he knew would set her body aflame with desire, his own always responding in kind.

‘I need you with me’ when, after their thirst for each other was quenched, he would face her in bed to take one of her hands and lace their fingers together and hold her tight against his larger body.

Now, Kokuyou rubbed his large hand over his face and flopped back onto his back in the bed they’d once shared.  He placed his hand on the side of the bed you had favored, spreading his fingers out as if seeking the heat you left there, long since gone.

His stomach clenched as the last days they had spent together returned.  How they had come together in a frenzy after a particularly intense rehearsal with the other guys.  The muscles of his lower belly tensed, the tip of his hard manhood weeping and begging for attention.

Kokuyou took himself in hand and began stroking, thinking about how __________’s lips used to feel around him, sucking him deep.  The way her body gripped him like a vice the closer she got to climaxing as she rode him hard and fast.  In mere moments, thoughts of their sexual activities over the years they were together brought about release, leaving thick streams over his skin and pooling in his bellybutton.

When his heart rate calmed again, he let out a ‘tch’ with disgust.  When would it end?  Why did no other woman he’d been with since then, haunt him like __________ did? Was it her spirit refusing to leave him alone?  He immediately cut that thought off.  He refused to believe anything happened to her that was irrevocable and meant they woudln’t meet again.  She was out in the world somewhere, living her best life away from Starless - away from him - and she was happy.

It had to be enough.

Kokuyou turned over to look at his phone charging on the bed next to him and saw he still had an hour before he had to get up.  He had to get his head in the game today - It was the first day of a new versus challenge, and his team was up against Rindou and his crew.

‘Might as well start warming up then’.  He thought to himself as he sat up once more, flinging his legs over the side of the bed to place his bare feet on the cold ground.

An hour later, he was at Starless.

~*~

After warming up with the rest of Team W and going over the performance one more time, Kokuyou and the rest of his team went into the locker room to change into their performance costumes.

“Has anyone else heard about Sotetsu’s lady friend?”

“Why?  That’s K stuff.”

Takami, who had asked the question, shrugged, his blood red eyes flashing with his smile.  “I bring it up simply because no one else has mentioned it. I felt the topic merited conversation.  Particularly since it’s Sotetsu.”

When he received a number of confused looks,  Takami released an exasperated breath. “There is no greater teaser of women in all the city than him.  What kind of woman is she to have gotten so close to him?”

‘__________ would have,’ Kokuyou’s thoughts wandered as he pulled his shoes on.  He ‘tsk’d, shaking his head to scatter such thoughts.

The small sound he had created caught Takami’s attention, drawing his studious gaze unbeknownst to him.

Hours later, the show having just finished, Kokuyou and the rest of that night’s performers were just finishing changing when Sotetsu poked his head in, still in his Wait staff attire.

“Everyone decent? V.I.P coming in.”

“V.I.P? What the fuck is he on about?” Kokuyou wasn’t expecting a reply, but got one from Sin.

“Sotetsu’s V.I.P.”

Kokuyou pushed his curiosity away.  That bastard’s friend had nothing to do with him.  He was just finishing packing his gym bag to head home, when he heard a voice that made his entire being freeze in place.  One he never thought he’d hear again.

‘It can’t be…' he thought to himself as he turned slowly, his brows furrowed deep as his crimson gaze honed in on Sotetsu before moving to the woman next to him.  He felt a gasp catch in his throat in its attempt to escape.

It was __________.  At first, he hoped his eyes were deceiving him, that his dreams from the night before were affecting his waking world, but Sotetsu introduced her by name and it was Kokuyou’s missing lover.

A look of displeasure became etched deeper and deeper on Kokuyou’s face.  What the hell was going on?  Where has __________ been for the last six years?  Why is she with Sotetsu of all people?  He wanted, needed, to know, but all the pain he felt after and since she disappeared came back in one fell swoop, making his chest hurt. Something he didn’t like at all and he felt the need to knead his chest muscles with his knuckles to relieve the tension.

When Sotetsu got to him with the introductions, her eyes widened then furrowed ever so slightly with a look of confusion. So, she recognized him.  There was infinitesimal relief at that information that had managed to get past his upset at her arrival.

Back out in the break area outside the locker room, Sotetsu left her with Team W so he could help his own team with something.  The moment Sotetsu was out of sight, but before his team could move in on her with their curiosity, Kokuyou strode over to her on long legs, gripped her upper arm with his strong hand, and dragged her towards the back alley.

She protested, but he barely felt it.

Once outside, he let her wrench herself away and she spun on him, hackles and fist raised in defense as she faced him like a cornered animal.

“What the hell is going on?!”

“I’d ask you the same thing, __________.  What are you doing here with Sotetsu?”

She bristled at his question.  “I don’t see how it’s any of your business.  I don’t even know you!”

Not much could shock Kokuyou.  But her words caused his body to cease any kind of movement and his eyes went wide.  Didn’t know him?  How was that fucking possible/  Sure, he’d changed a bit over the last six years, but they’d slept together for years before that.  No one could know him better than her.

Kokuyou reached out and clasped her shoulders to make her focus on him. “What do you mean, you don’t know me?”

__________ moved her arms to her front, as he’d taught her when they were younger, and quickly broke his hold on her before shoving the palm of one of her hands up into his nose.  Pain exploded from where she had hit him and he reared back.

“Motherfucker!” Kokuyou howled, his hands moving to cover his injured nose, relieved that it was somehow not bleeding.

“I mean, I don’t know who you fucking are beyond Sotetsu’s introduction, asshole.  Touch me again and I’ll kick your ass into next week.”

A sense of nostalgia came over Kokuyou as she stormed off back towards the others, the exact same way she had the last time they’d fought.

He needed to talk to Sotetsu since she likely wouldn’t speak to him any time soon after the way he acted.

~*~

The next day, Kokuyou found Sotetsu in the back alley taking a smoke break.  Kokuyou took out his own pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket as he sat on one of the stairs and pulled one out.  He cursed under his breath when he pat his pockets down for his lighter and it was missing.

He eyed Sotetsu for a moment. “Can I get a light?”

A moment later, Sotetsu flicked the tab on his zippo and it flared to life.  Kokuyou leaned forward, lit the end and took a drag of his cigarette before sighing.

“What’s on your mind, Kokuyou?” Kokuyou looked at the side of Sotetsu’s head from where he sat two steps up behind him and to Sotetsu’s right.

“That friend of yours…”

“What about her?”

“You know her past?”

Sotetsu released his own sigh, a wisp of smoke escaping and moving up into the sky. “Nah, though not for a lack of trying.  Why? Do you know something?”

‘Ever the info broker.’ Kokuyou simply shrugged.  “Knew her back in the day.  Doesn’t remember me though."

Sotetsu looked at him from over his shoulder for a few moments.  Kokuyou could feel his limbs twitch under the other man’s gaze. Kokuyou readied himself to decline any further questioning the other man may want to perform, but Sotetsu just shrugged and focused his golden gaze forward.

“Want me to talk to her?”

Kokuyou frowned.  “Why? What would be in it for you?”

Sotetsu took another drag from his cigarette, released the smoke, and smiled at nothing before him.  “For entertainment’s sake, of course.”

Kokuyou just rolled his eyes, causing the other man to chuckle. “I’ll be straight with you, Kokuyou.  It’s more than entertainment.  She’s my friend and I want her to be happy.  She is also a nut I’ve been unable to crack since I met her because she doesn’t remember her childhood.”

This caught Kokuyou’s attention. “She doesn’t remember anything?”

“Yeah.  I’ve tried asking her about her past, but when she doesn’t avoid the subject altogether by talking around it, she unintentionally alludes to not knowing things.  Even her birthday.”

Without even realizing it, Kokuyou blurted out her birthday, then immediately pursed his lips tight to keep from offering the other man anything else. Sotetsu just smirked.

“Thanks for that.  Now I know when to celebrate.  To repay you for the date, a little info for info.  Over the last year that I’ve known her, I’ve gotten two impressions from her: Something traumatic happened to her and that she cared deeply for someone from her past.  Since you say you knew her once, maybe you’ll be able to help her regain her memory.”

Kokuyou watched Sotetsu stand to go back inside before turning back to stare into the alley behind the shop.

“Oh, and Kokuyou?” Kokuyou looked up at him again.  “If you hurt her, I will insist on a rematch between us. Next time, I won’t lose to you. More will be at stake than my pride.”

A scoff escaped his lips at the brunette’s boastful proclamation. He had learned his lesson when she had disappeared the first time.  He wouldn’t let his anger get the better of him again. At least he’d try not to. ‘Memory loss, huh? Makes sense now.’

The question he really needed to ask was after how he’d spoken to her earlier, would she listen?

~*~

Several days later…

“Kokuyou? Sotetsu said you wanted to talk about something? He said you might be able to help me find out about my past.”

‘Meddlesome asshole…’ Kokuyou sighed when he heard __________’s voice.  Though he had a few other choice titles to bestow the Team K member, he was also a little happy for the other man’s help.

Several days had passed since Sotetsu’s introduction.  In that time, __________ had only been back once and when she had been here, it had felt as if she had been avoiding him the whole time.  Honestly, he couldn’t blame her after the way he’d grabbed her - his nose still ached.  So when he watched her approach him now from under the table he was at, he couldn’t help but feel a little leery on the inside.

“Yeah, I know about your past.  Are you sure you want to know?  That you’re ready?”  A nod from her made him pause as he finished repairing the table in the audience area, then moved until he could look up at her.

She stood above him, arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them up enticingly, yet he noted the way her hands gripped the elbow of the opposite arms. She gave off an air of being strong and in charge with her words, but her actions spoke of anxiety and fear. Of what he might tell her in answer?  Understandably, but this wasn’t the same woman he knew before she disappeared.  What happened to her?

Kokuyou stood up from the floor and pulled a chair out.  He set it backwards against the table, flung a leg over the side and sat, crossing his arms over the back before looking at her. He tilted his head towards the chair next to him indicating she should sit down, which she reluctantly did, never releasing the hold she had on herself.

“What do you wanna know?”

__________ looked down at the top of the old, chipped, wooden table before looking back up at him with determination.  “Where am I from? How do you know me?”

Kokuyou scratched his chin as he looked at her, then nodded when that determination remained.  “You came to the orphanage that I’d been living in when I was, oh, eight or so.  You were six. Don’t know why you got left there, never asked.  Didn’t even notice you at first until one of the other kids in my age group and his crew started picking on you.”

He carded his fingers through his blood red locks and let out a sigh.  “Dunno why, but I felt compelled to help you with them.  Even after they stopped bothering you all together, I couldn’t bring myself to stop trying to protect you.  There was just something about you that drew me in and I didn't want to leave.  You were fun, witty, smart.  We were friends until I was nineteen and you were seventeen."

"Is that when I lost my memory?"

'Should I tell her we were sleeping together?' Kokuyou asked himself, looking away for the first time since he started.

"Kokuyou?  What happened next?"

He released a sigh.  After she had disappeared, he had sworn to himself that if she ever returned, he'd never lie to her and would put her first. But how do you tell someone who'd lost their memory that you used to fuck?

"Our friendship remained, it just...evolved to something more."

"More? As in..." Kokuyou turned to face her, red eyes locking on hers and refusing to release.  Her cheeks colored a pretty shade of dark pink and that told him she'd caught onto his meaning.  "I...I see."

One of Kokuyou's dark eyebrows shot up nearly to his scarlet hair.  "You believe me?" __________ nodded.  "Why?  Because of your lost memory, we may as well have just met.  Everything I just told you could have been a lie."

She just nodded.  "You're right about that.  I don't know.  Something about seeing you makes my stomach feel strange but not in a bad way.  Perhaps it's similar to your story about how we met?  Besides, you're the only one who's made me feel like that and gave me some form of answers about my past.  Not even Sotetsu could help me find out about my past. All though, he probably could have complied an entire history on me if I knew my last name, birthdate, etc."  She continued staring at him, any trace of her previous blush was gone.

"Trusting you feels right."

Her last words were like a punch in the gut because she had said something like that when they were kids.  "You've said that to me before." Kokuyou felt a small, soft smile form unbidden on his lips.

__________ gave him a look of surprise for no longer than the blink of an eye before scooting her chair closer to his and placing her smaller hands on either side of his face to make him focus on her. An awkward moment followed where she stared deep into his wide eyes as if trying desperately to find something hidden in their depths.

What was she looking for? Could she see the answers she sought in his eyes? Could she see his last memories of her, with her back facing him as she stormed off, playing back over and over in his head over the years? How that thought, and the accompanying regret, haunted him until this day?  The regret he felt for not going after that day and how he took for granted that she would always return?

A shorter version of __________'s name escaped his lips, deep and raspy, as if he'd spent too much time in the smoke surrounding a campfire - like sandpaper on wood on a humid summer day. A tone and texture reserved for the bedroom when two lovers are in the midst of passions, when sugar sweet words get whispered between them. A voice that only she had ever caused him to use - no woman since had done so.

He watched as her eyebrows flew up under her bangs in surprise, followed by a slight pinkening of her cheeks, before her brow scrunched hard as if in deep thought.  A grunt of pain escaped her when she looked to the side while still clutching his face.  Kokuyou reached up to gently hold both of her wrists in his hands, concern flooding him. "__________?  What's wrong?"

In a snap, her eyes went wide and she shoved herself away from him despitehis grip on her.  She covered her mouth with her hands as she sent herself flying back in her chair.  Kokuyou moved with her in reflex, to catch her so she wouldn't hit her head on the polished concrete floor.  He managed to wrap himself around her, her neck in the crook of his arm and his other arm around her waist, as they fell to the floor with a crash of chairs and tables he'd hit on their way down.

Once they'd settled again on the floor, Kokuyou shifted so he was looking down at her in concern.  He wanted to chuckle because she'd managed to keep her hands cupped over her mouth and eyes tightly shut during the entire situation, but he didn't feel the time was right.

When he heard the sound of multiple sets of feet rushing over, all expressing shock and concern at the cacophony the two of them had made, Kokuyou waved them off, assuring them everything was okay and that he'd teased her too much.

As soon as their audience had vacated - Kokuyou could still feel Sotetsu's eyes on him - he used his hand not under her to show her rare tenderness when he brought his hand up to stroke her cheek with his palm, moving strands of her hair from her face.

"You good?  What was that?"

His focus honed in on her when he felt her whole body shiver at his touch.  The sensation was achingly familiar to him from their days as lovers.

After a few moments of silence, __________ sighed.  "Kokuyou? Did we argue a lot... before?" Kokuyou grunted his confirmation as he paused his hands movement on the side of her face.

"I...I think...I see..." She uncovered her face and looked up at him with tears in her eyes.  Hope dared to flare in his heart at the flicker of recognition growing in her eyes.

Kokuyou quickly sat up, bringing __________ with him, never taking his eyes off of her. "Do you remember something?"

She cast her gaze around as if with new eyes, then they landed on him and she smiled before wrapping her arms around him.  When she pulled herself close to his pierced ear, she whispered, "I remember everything."

Kokuyou turned his head to stare at her in shock.  She remembered everything? "Everything?"

__________ nodded. "I remember how I stormed off after our fight.  I'm sorry I'm so late coming back."

He turned away from her and wrapped his strong arms around her tight. "Stupid, you don't need to apologize for that. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you," he growled into her shoulder, pressing his nose to her shirt, taking in her familiar sweet scent.

She nuzzled her nose into his neck, her hot breath on his flesh sending chills down his spine. "If I'm not allowed to apologize, neither are you."

They embraced for a time, not nearly enough to make up for their six-year separation, before Kokuyou pulled away enough to look into her shining eyes.  He tilted his head slightly in question as to why her eyes were watering and she chuckled. __________ just shook her head.

"You look older than I remember." This made Kokuyou grown playfully at her before huffing.

"You haven't changed a bit."

There was so much he wanted, needed, to say. So much he should have told her before she disappeared for six years.  But no words came forward.

"Let's go to my place.  Can't talk here." ___________ nodded immediately and they left the shop, hand-in-hand.

~*~

After being attacked by two dozen gazes of differing emotions as they left Starless, Kokuyou and __________ were back at his place in no time.

Kokuyou watched her as she walked around the small apartment;  eyes taking in every detail she could see aorund her, soft fingers trailing along every surface she came in contact with to feel familiar textures.  He could hear her take in scens around her with happy little hums.

"Nothing's changed? In all this time?"

Kokuyou's shoulders lifted and he gave her a look of indifference.  "Been busy at Starless and keeping Mizuki out of trouble."

Things instantly quieted and he knew why - his dedication to Starless.  The reason for their arguments.  He knew it was a problem he'd had from the beginning, but he wasn't going to change.  She had known that, yet it had been upsetting to her enough to storm off where it wasn't safe, leading to her getting caught by an unknown enemy.

"Sotetsu mentioned him.  Team B's leader, right?" Kokuyou nodded.  He felt everything inside him freeze and heat up at the same time when __________ returned to stnd before him. She gently placed her smaller hand on his chest, the heat of her touch seeping into him, thawing the ice that had formed in her absence.

She looked up at Kokuyou again for a moment tht felt like an eternity. "I was wrong."

When he looked at her in confusion again, she smiled softly at him.  "You've changed.  You've become even more handsome than I remember." After she gave her words time to sink in to his thoughts, she offered him a frown to match his own.

"Kokuyou, I have to ask:  After everything that's happened over the last six years, could there ever be an 'us' again?  Even when my memory was taken from me, my heart never belonged to another.  But I don't know if you feel the same."

He didn't know what to say in reply.  So many years has passed - faceless women, places, events - she had been like a phantom, a wraith, in the back of his mind, coming forward in his times alone where dark thoughts took over and when he needed release.  No one had replaced her in his heart. Yet she was the one asking about a potential future, a continuation of what they'd had before.

This had to be a dream.

His depraved mind was playing tricks on him again, making him think she'd returned.  He was still asleep in his bed - had to be.  Her scent, the feeling of her skin, her body against his, all figments of his imagination. If he was right, and this was his mind giving him a sight he'd longed for for so long, then he was going to enjoy it. If it turned out he was completely mad, then so be it.

Without uttering another word, Kokuyou placed his hands on both sides of her jaw and drew her into a deep, passionate kiss, thrusting his tongue past her lips when she gasped in surprise, to tangle his tongue with her own.

It didn't take her long to recover before melting into his kiss, pressing her body against his as if she couldn't get close enough.  It felt familiar, this kiss.  It felt like home. It felt different, too - the six year gap lending their meeting of lips a sense of newness.

Kokuyou moaned into her mouth that scorched him like the sun when she took his tongue between her sucked hard on it, reminding him of more things her talented mouth could do.

His hands trailed down her arms, her sides, pausing at the hem of her shirt, placing his thumbs under the cloth to touch the skin of her belly.  He marveled at the feeling;  Soft as velvet covering firm muscle, heating up under his finger the longer his hand lingered there.  He pulled away, their lips smacking at the separation, and he looked into her eyes.  Half-lidded, heady desire gazed back.

"Koku -"

Kokuyou felt a sound rumbling in his chest at the use of the shortened version of his name she had started calling him as children, something only she had been allowed to do.

Slanting his lips across hers, he took them hungrily once more.  He gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled away long enough to jerk the offending fabric over her head and allow her to do the same to his red sleeveless shirt, both articles of clothing flying off somewhere else in the room.

His lips were instantly back on her skin, attacking her neck this time and tasting the sweat that was leaving her flesh shining and making his mouth water.  He was spurred on by her deep groans and breathy moans, especially when she latched on to leave a petal-shaped mark on her neck, under her earlobe.

Through the fog of arousal currently clouding his vision and thoughts, he felt her hands touching his hard chest, curling her fingers slightly to leave red lines on his tanned flesh.  Without warning and with surprising strength, she pushed against him hard enough for him to fall back on the bed.  He looked up at her in surprise as she immediately jumped onto him to straddle his hips, his arousal pressing against the zipper of his jeans to nestle comfortably in her cleft through her cloth pants. He gripped her hips with his large hands to steady her, relishing in the feel of her body on his in such an intimate way.

Kokuyou had to choke back a moan as __________ began rocking her hips back and forth along his clothed shaft, her body undulating like a wave in the ocean. His hands moved from her hips, up her torso under her shirt, to cup her breasts through her bra, feeling her pebbled nipples against his palms.  __________ didn't seem satisfied when he didn't squeeze her breasts, so she placed her hands over his and made his hands grip them harder without ceasing how her hips were moving over him.

"Fuck, _________, you been practicing?  Where did you learn this?" Kokuyou panted out as he took her nipples between his calloused thumb and index fingers, rolling them with his digits.

"I've always been lusty, I'm remembering. Might have seen this on a vid or two and wanted to try it but no guy over the last few years has been the right one.  Not Sotetsu, either, though he expressed interest." She let her voice trail away as the quiet was filled with panted breath and the rustling of clothes.  Then she looked at him and stopped moving all together. "So Koku, when are you going to fuck me?"

Kokuyou blinked up at her in surprise before smirking.  He sat up straight, wrapped his strong arm around her waist and flipped them over so he was looming over her.  He used his arm around her to move her further onto the bed, then he used his free hand to pull her bottoms off, the heat from their activity burning him from the inside out, flaring hotter when he found she wasn't wearing panties.

He raised one dark eyebrow in question towards her.  All she did was shrug.  Kokuyou chuckled and finished removing her bottoms, leaving nips and kisses on the revealed skin of her body and lower.  Pants cast elsewhere, he pressed his middle and ring fingers against her entrance, finding no resistance from the level of arousal she was feeling. Pride filled his chest when her body shivered from the top of her head to the tips of her cute toes.  A rumble escaped him from deep in his chest, his body moving down and curling to place his lips on her sensitive bud above where his fingers were sliding in and out of her body.

__________ reached into his hair, gripping the crimson strands hard and holding him closer as he devoured her, drinking down the sounds she was making and the desire pooling between her legs.

"K...Koku, wait.  I... I want..."

Kokuyou released her clit with a wet pop before looking up at her while licking his lips clean of her sweet essence. He smirked at the sight of her eyes dialating with desire and following his tongue along his lower lip.

"What do you want, __________?" He eagerly awaited her answer with a smirk as he continued slowly moving his finger within her, scissoring them to stretch her for him so she couldn't feel pain.

She used her grip on his short hair to pull him up so she could take his lips that shone in the dim light of the room, tasting her arousal on him.  "I want to fuck like we have six years to make up for and not a lot of time to do it."

Kokuyou nearly choked in surprise as her words caused an intense shot of arousal straight to his groin.  "That can be arranged."

He almost didn't recognize his own voice for how much deeper and raspier it was with his desire.

Kokuyou sat back, __________ moving with him, and together they removed his pants and boxers lightning fast. __________ fell back on the bed again, Kokuyou falling on her, their torsos gliding against each other easily from the sheen of sweat on both of them.  As he moved forward to kiss her again, he hooked both of her knees with his hands, pressing her knees up near her shoulders, his shaft drawn towards her heat as if controlled by magnets.  With one easy snap of his hips forward, he was completely sheathed inside her.  __________ called out and he looked towards her in concern, thinking he'd hurt her somehow, but all he saw was her flushed face and blown pupils.

__________ reached around her sides to grip his hips when he didn't move once inside her, and dug her blunt nails into his skin and growled in frustration.

"Come on, Koku.  Show me how you've changed.  Unless you've gotten rusty..."

A bark of a laugh, rare in sound and form, escaped him at her challenge. "Damn, woman, gimme a sec.  It's been a while since I've felt this good being with someone.  Couldn't have things end too soon, right?"

"Like at the school festival my final year of high school?"

Kokuyou frowned at her before giving her a punishing thrust and smirking at her gasp.  "Why didja ahve to bring that up now?  I'm gonna have to prove myself now." __________ started giggling until Kokuyou pulled his hips back again and plunged back into her hot depths  and she gasped again, reaching for his forearms to leave rescent marks on his taught, tanned flesh. The marks darkening when he rubbed the crown of his manhood along a particularly sensitive spot within her body.

Over the next several minutes, with his hands holding her hips steady, while the speed at which Kokuyou moved within __________ increased, making her quiet gasps turn into shouts of pleasure.

Kokuyou could feel her body tightening, forming a vice grip around him.  He trailed a finger from her hips to her belly button, up between her breasts and across her collarbone, with a feather-light touch even as he conintued his near punishing pace. While the one had was moving up behind her neck, his other hand moved between them where their bodies were joined, to rub little circles around her clit. He was determined to make her find release twice before he found his own.  At least at first - the night was still young.  His pride demanded it after her comment earlier.

Before he knew it,  he had __________ screaming her release, drawing blood from where she had latched onto his arm with her nails. Kokuyou paused for a moment to be sure he wouldn't be following her in her bliss, but he didn't quit his ministrations on her body, doing what he could to keep her orgasm going.

"That's one." He smirked at __________ and, before she could say anything or protest, he flipped her over onto her stomach, pulled her up by her hips so she was on her hands and knees, then re-entered her body and receiving a cry of surprise.

"O-one? One what? Orgasm?  How many are you planning to pull out of me!?"

"You're talking too much.  Seems like I'm not doing my job right, keeping anything but gasps and moans from leaving those sexy lips."

___________ turned to look at him from over her shoulder, lips slightly parted as she panted for breath.  Kokuyou leaned over her to probe those pouty lips with his fingers until she opened fully for him, running her tongue over his digits, tasting herself on his skin.

Kokuyou used the anchor he had of his fingers in her mouth.  He gently tugged back until she was on her knees, her back to his front, his manhood still buried deep inside her.  __________ made a noise of confusion past his fingers, but it soon melted into a heady groan as he began moving once more, hitting spots inside her she didn't know she had. He offered a groan of his own when he felt her wet heat squeeze him.  He leaned in to press his lips to her ear at the same time he placed his free hand on her lower belly with his fingers splayed to cover more space.

"You still affect me the same way you did before. The way you move, the way you talk, how you sound when we're fucking, how you touch me and I, you. If anything, you have an even greater affect on me now than ever before.  I just wanna stay right where I'm at forever, even after both of our bodies collapse from exhaustion." She reached up with one hand to pull his fingers from her mouth.  "You...nng...may get your...aah!...wish, Koku."

From constant stimulation from his movement, even after he made her come once, he could feel her muscles contracting around him again and could feel a vibration wracking her body.  His glutes tensed when she grabbed his ass with her other hand. "Have I brought you close to falling apart again already?" His whispered words against her ear made her shaking intensify, his pistoning hips moving faster, chasing his own climax still with her help.

"What do you think?  Now give it to me harder, Koku.  I won't break."

Kokuyou sighed heavily at her words, feeling them course through him like a drug shot straight into his veins.  He pushed her back down on to the bed, took both sides her hips into his hands again, and proceeded to drill into her at a punishing pace, sweat falling from his temples in rivulets, dripping down his sculpted torso to mix with her arousal on his cock as he moved.

Several choice curse words escaped his lips when her body gripped him tighter and tighter with her impending release.  He could feel his own crawling up his shaft with each second he held back. "I can feel you getting close, you're gripping me so tight.  Making it hard to hold back."

"Then don't hold back."

"Sure..." he panted, brows furrowed in concentration and his long, strong fingers moving to her nub once more to apply pressure to help her reach her end.

All it took was a few passes of his rough finger tips on her sensitive flesh for her to scream her release, soaking him and the sheets beneath her.  Kokuyou waited as long as he could after she climaxed before following her into the oblivion of release, pulling out just before his orgasm exploded from him in thick, white streams over her shapely ass and back.

He slowly leaned over her back and bit on her shoulder gently, affectionately, before collapsing onto his side next to her, pulling __________ in close - her back to his front while they caught their breaths.  When they had calmed, __________ turned over in his arms to wrap one of her own around him.  Kokuyou looked down at her the same time she looked up and they shared a tender kiss.

"That was better than I remember.  You've been practicing?"  Kokuyou wasn't sure how to answer her.  Tell her the truth or shake it off? Distract her with more loving as he'd planned and promised?  She gave him an out before he could decide.  "It's ok, you know.  We weren't together.  I probably would have never remembered you if we hadn't met again."

"Yea, I practiced a bit, but they weren't you, so it wasn't the same." He let silence fall between them before asking what he had wanted to since she walked in the door with Sotetsu. "I have to ask... what happened when you disappeared?"

She cast her gaze down to stare at his collarbone while he maneuvered them around to take her hand not already on him and laced their fingers together.  "I... was grabbed and knocked out in the alley.  I remember fighting my attackers, but ultimately failed. Woke up in a glass box with breathing holes, wearing a hospital gown.  No one spoke to me directly though there were other people around.  I screamed at them to let me go, I screamed for you to find and save me, for someone to release me.  I screamed so much that I lost my voice for a time. That's when they would take me to a room with a surgical table with monitors all around, strap me down and hook me up to those machines.

"Then the whispers started and my memories of anything before that day began to fade as if they never existed.  There were a couple times I almost remembered, but then they would play a song and it'd disappear again.  I don't know how they did it or why,  but I'm not sure I want to know now. What if it makes me forget again?"

Kokuyou pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.  "Things are different now.  I'll protect you better this time."

__________ nuzzled against his bare chest and sighed contentedly, as if she had been waiting to hear him say that forever.  "I love you, Kokuyou."

His heart gave a heavy thump.  She'd said it when they were younger, but it'd been so long ago, he'd started wondering if it was fabricated by his mind.  Then Koharu's words from the day __________ had disappeared came to him about reminding __________ how he felt. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"I Lo..."

"Oi! Kokuyou!  Where the hell are ya, big bro?  You ran off without finishin' ya shift!"

Kokuyou grumbled about kids interrupting things under his breath and __________ giggled.  They heard Mizuki pause, obviously listening because he'd heard something.

His hearing was becoming more canine, because from the outside of Kokuyou's bedroom, he shouted, "__________ is with ya? Wacha doin'? Fuckin'?"

Kokuyou shot out of bed and pulled on the pants he'd worn to Starless that day, hurrying to his door before the kid could barge in and see __________ in her state of undress.

"I'm about to beat some manners into him, I swear." He growled, making __________ laugh as he exited his room and coming face to face with the younger man.

Mizuki did his best to try to see past Kokuyou, who was blocking the open door, but Kokuyou gently cuffed him on the side of the head, earning the younger man's ire.

"Wacha do that for!? I was just curious."

"Too curious." Mizuki just glared at him. "Yeah, that's __________.  It's a long story I ain't gonna tell ya right now, so leave it."

"Yeah, yeah," Mizuki rolled his golden eyes and went up on the tips of his toes to call out past Kokuyou's shoulder.  "Sorry __________!"

"It's ok, Mizuki." __________ came up behind Kokuyou wearing one of his shirts, exhibiting no shame in her lack of clothing.

Mizuki blushed slightly when he saw her then looked at Kokuyou for an answer.  "We dated when we were younger and were catching up."

"Catching up while naked?" Kokuyou saw the disbelief on his face and made his hand into a fist again.

"What if it, kid?"

"Koku, be nice.  He was worried when you left the shop suddenly." Mizuki's eyes went wide at her use of the short version of his name.  Kokuyou saw this and glared at Team B's leader.

"Don't go gettin' ideas. Only she gets to call me that."

Mizuki shrugged and looked at __________. "So, did ya 'catch up'?" Mizuki added air quotes to the last words with his fingers.

"That's gonna be a work in progress.  I haven't seen Kokuyou in a few years."

"So ya gonna be 'round for a while?"

"Yup.  That ok?"

Mizuki rolled his eyes again as if that was the dumbest question seh could ask.  "Of course.  Just don't disappear again."

"Can do!" she replied returning the fist bumb he offered her.

Satisfied, Mizuki turned away from the room and went into the small open kitchen, grabbed something in the refridgerator and gave it a sniff for freshness and a soda, then left out the front door.

There were several moments of silence as both Kokuyou and __________ stared at the front door where Mizuki had left out of.

"So.  Think he'll be back sometime before midnight?"

"Possibly.  He's probably hanging out with his team, planning the next event."

"We have the apartment to ourselves again."

"Yup."

"Wanna pick up where we left off?"

"Hell yeah!"

__________ quickly moved behind Kokuyou, reared back her open palm and slapped Kokuyou on his ass before running into the bedroom with cackling laughter.

"Oh you're gonna get it now, woman." Kokuyou smirked as he quickly followed her, both collapsing onto the bed together to pick up where they left off in their goal of making up for the last six years separation.

-------------------------

[fuckingfinwions]

#3 russingon au? 👀👀👀

(from this)

Prince Fingon is about to come of age.

Feanor is a blacksmith (not anyone related to the king) in the small town of Formenos.

A royal messenger comes to the town to look over all the unmarried boys of appropriate age range as a potential private companion for the prince.

Maedhros, Maglor, and Celegorm are all about the right age, though Celegorm is on the young end and deliberately sabotages his chances because a palace sounds stuffy.

The messenger looks everyone over and asks some questions. Maedhros and a couple of the others also get asked if they have all their teeth, if they ever had the pox and if it scarred. Then the messenger rides away and that’s it for a while.

They don’t forget about it, because Feanor rants at dinner about how the royals do nothing and steal the work of honest men in taxes and now want to steal their children, but it’s not on the top of anyone’s mind.

There’s a lot of boys in the village, and though Maedhros is aware that he’s the handsomest of them, there’s a lot of villages in the kingdom.

It’s a month later when the messenger comes back, this time knocking on Feanor’s front door.

Maedhros is to go to the capital city and meet Crown Prince Fingolfin. If Fingolfin approves of him when they meet in person, Maedhros will become Prince Fingon’s private companion. If Fingolfin doesn’t approve, Maedhros will be sent back.

Maedhros kind of wishes he didn’t have to go be a glorified personal prostitute, but it’s a great opportunity. He’ll be in the capital with it’s libraries and art and people from all over. He probably won’t be allowed to talk to anyone important, but still it’s amazing.

And there’s not a whole lot keeping hm back at home. He’s competent in the forge and can make horseshoes and such, but not especially talented, and Caranthir is old enough to be a proper apprentice. He’s not dating anyone, and though he’ll miss his family he doesn’t have any very close friends

Sidenote: In the upper class, there is a very strong emphasis on heterosexual-virginity before marriage, and monogamy during marriage until you have at least three undisputed children, to ensure inheritance. In the lower class and outside the capital, it’s more common for teenagers to have bit of fun, and if you need to marry in a hurry because someone got pregnant so it goes. (This is apparently a not-elves au).

The messenger says that he’ll bring by the carriage for the journey to the capital in the morning, Maedhros can have a day to pack and say his goodbyes.

Feanor is not happy with this, even though it’s “temporary” and Maedhros will go back home once the prince marries in 5-10 years. 

Maedhros knows that pointing out that Feanor legally has to let him go will not make things better. There’s a lot of arguing, and Maedhros is able to mostly focus on what his free time might be like rather than what his new job will be.

(And Maedhros knows that if he admits he doesn’t want to go in Feanor’s hearing, Feanor will do whatever it takes to make sure it doesn’t have to. It’s nice to know his father cares, but it means he doesn’t say any of his doubts or even fully articulate them to himself.)

So in the morning Maedhros has a couple of apple crates full of his things and gets in the carriage.

He has a lot of time to think about what this will be like. Maedhros has heard that King Finwe is tall with dark hair, maybe Prince Fingon will look like that? (And should Maedhros call Prince Fingon by his title or just his name? Would it be seen as unbearably rude to forgo the title, or horrendously stilted to use it during sex?)

Maedhros has wondered what sex with another man would be like, but a reputation for it in his town would mean he might never marry and be alone forever.

Other things Maedhros knows about the royal family: all of Feanor’s anti-government rants. Fingon is the oldest prince. The cobbler two villages over traveled to the capital to visit her aunt, and said the princes were tall and had clothes woven out of silver instead of cotton.

Maedhros knows that the prince will of course be ugly and lazy, never having to work a day in his life, but someone nearly as tall as him would be nice.

“How old is Prince Fingon?”

The messenger looks at Maedhros like he’s an idiot.

“It’s two months until his seventeenth birthday. That’s why you’re here, to be his companion and be a good place for him to direct his adult urges as he comes of age.”

“I knew that, I just wasn’t sure when exactly he was considered of age.”

“The royal family doesn’t live their years any faster or slower than you do, kid.”

“I’m just not used to it being sudden. In Formenos, you don’t marry until you can support a house together, unless she gets pregnant in which case you build a cabin in one of your fathers’ yards and live off them until you’re ready.”

“The Prince is too young to marry, hence finding him someone to have fun with.”

“Of course.” Maedhros keeps quiet for the rest of the carriage ride so he doesn’t look like a complete fool. (Whether or not he wants to do this, he’s too proud to not try his best.)

They reach the capital, and there’s enough notice for Maedhros to change into his best clothes. He wore them to the festival this spring, the bright red tunic has flowers embroidered along not just the neckline most of the chest and stars on the sleeves.

Maedhros is expecting to be outclassed by Crown Prince Fingolfin, of course, but he might as well but on his best clothes.

Fingolfin is wearing a simple chain necklace made of more gold than Maedhros has ever seen in one place, even as a smith’s son. The shirt behind it isn’t embroidered, someone actually wove the cloth out of different colors of thread so it fades from an indigo near Fingolfin’s face through to a blue and then near turquoise at the hem.

Fingolfin calls Maedhros’s attire ‘rustic’ and asks him a few questions, though most of them have already been covered by the messengers.

Fingolfin then says he’ll make his decision in the next few days, there’s a temporary room for Maedhros in the servants quarters. He’ll be brought his meals, and shouldn’t go wandering (Fingon isn’t supposed to see his private companion until his birthday, it would spoil the surprise of his present.) And does Maedhros have any requests of Prince Fingolfin?

Maedhros asks if there’s a book of court etiquette he could study, either in his rooms or escorted to the library? “I know that of course I won’t take part, but as a private companion I’m supposed to be whatever Prince Fingon wants. If he wants to talk about his day sometimes, I'm sure he’d rather do so without spending hours explaining the context.”

Fingolfin asks, “So you’re not trying to learn the rules so that Fingon doesn’t punish you for misbehavior?”

“If Prince Fingon wishes to punish me for any reason, I of course will obey. But I have no desire to behave in ways he would find unpleasant.”

Fingolfin nods and waves a hand for Maedhros to leave. Maedhros does, and a few hours later one of the servants brings by a book of etiquette. It’s aged with a cracked spine, as new books are even more valuable, but it was obviously replaced in the royal library for datedness or cosmetic reasons, not readability. This copy is one the palace steward uses for reference.

There’s nothing else for Maedhros to do, so he reads it cover to cover. (He can do arithmetic too, they’re useful skills in the forge.)

Fingolfin decides on Maedhros. He’s pretty and polite and articulate, and not one of the sons of a half-dozen merchant families that are trying to get an avenue to the royal palace. Friends with the future king is nothing to sneeze at, even if it’s a degrading sort of friendship.

So the night of Prince Fingon’s seventeenth birthday, Maedhros is waiting for him. He’s dressed in a dark brown tunic that Fingolfin selected to make Maedhros’s fair skin not look washed out, and red leggings to match his hair. His hair is in one long braid, so it can just as easily be out of the way or used as a leash. He’s not wearing any underclothes, and he opened up and oiled his asshole so that Fingon can take him immediately if Fingon wants. He’s nervous, and kneels by the door to wait.

He waits rather a long time actually, and eventually concludes that it won’t be too presumptuous to sit on a stool, as long as he gets up immediately when Prince Fingon enters.

In the mean time, Maedhros thinks. They say everything in the capital city is politics. Maedhros himself would never leave a new.., acquaintance to wait by accident, especially not as a first impression. Prince Fingon is obviously setting the tone for the next several years with Maedhros. Maedhros has to be where he's told and do what he’s told, and Fingon will acknowledge him only when the prince feels like it.

Maedhros figures he’ll know more when the prince show up, if he bothers to thank Maedhros for waiting or if he’ll go straight to removing clothes.

Fingon is not actually thinking about any of this. It’s his coming of age! There’s a feast and dancing and drinking and all his friends and the whole focus of the night is on him. He knows he’s getting a private companion, but Fingolfin hasn’t given any hints about what exactly they’ll look like and Fingon has a lot of other presents right in front of him.

Fingon doesn’t worry about the hypothetical private companion’s comfort, because this is the palace, it’s got to be better than wherever the guy came from. Whoever it is can relax on a feather bed for possibly the first time ever and eat fancy food rather than plain bread, Fingon arriving a few hours earlier or later will make no difference.

Fingon is Nice, and is used to people knowing that. If everyone knows you’re a nice person, they give you the benefit of the doubt that thoughtlessness was not malice, and inattentiveness was not disrespect.

People have been telling Maedhros that Fingon is nice, but he expects they’d tell him that anyway. Everyone wants Maedhros to please Fingon after all, so they’ll frame everything the best way possible. They also say Fingon is determined, which Maedhros interprets as “never listened to the word no in his life”.

It doesn’t matter, Maedhros reminds himself, because saying no would be illegal anyway. If Fingon is the type to just push past that if Maedhros is not in the mood, it’s better than being thrown in the dungeons.

Eventually Fingon comes back to his bedroom.

[agendratum]

OK so, i wanted to put my two cents in on these two topics:

1. the statement i once saw, made by someone, who, i’m not sure, was reading the same novel as i am. it went somewhere along these lines: “the novel implies that in his first life wei wuxian wasn’t interested in lan wangji or even in men at all”

2. the general idea that wei wuxian (specifically novel!wwx, i mean, obv all of this is just about novel!wwx or novel!lwj) is oblivious dummy, who can’t see what’s happening in front of his own nose, doesn’t understand not only lwj’s feelings towards him, but also not even self-aware enough to understand his own 

(idk if it was obvious from my previous posts on this website, but i’m a wei wuxian apologist so you should probably know that before i proceed)

i’m gonna quote the paragraph that prompted me to think about all this, it’s worded a bit differently in russian, but the point still stands:

Although in the past few days, he felt that Lan WangJi probably regarded him highly and differently from other people, he’d never dared to guess just how ‘highly’ it was or if ‘differently’ was the kind that he thought. Wei WuXian never thought of being confident as bad, and in fact prided himself on such a thought. Legends often gossiped about the YiLing Patriarch’s allegedly amorous life, but in reality, he’d never experienced such hectic feelings before. He used to think that Lan WangJi was too easy of a person to understand, but things were different now. He feared that he was the only one who thought of them that way, that it was all his own wishful thinking, that he was too confident for his own good.

lets start with the first statement and go waay back in time. first of all, the idea that wei wuxian wasn’t interested in lan wangji is kinda ridiculous to me, as this boy spent the entire time he was in gusu summer camp trying to get lan wangji’s attention, annoy him into friendship with him, he gifted him rabbits goddamnit. he had a whole fanclub of boys going on in gusu summer camp, he had girls in the nearby town swoon by him, and yet he focused his attention on lan wangji, but clearly he wasn’t interested, right. 

and then during sunshot they kept arguing and having bad experiences with each other, and yet wei wuxian couldn’t stop himself from being drawn to lan wangji, initiating conversation, that situation with the headband, that time he invited him to the inn. considering that every one of their encounters would end pretty badly, there was no reason for him to try again and again to build that friendship that he told himself wasn’t even possible. and yet he kept trying, and then in yiling he invited lan wangji to have a dinner with him, but of course he wasn’t interested. 

second of all, and it kinda bothers me a lot, actually, he wasn’t interested in men in his first life? yeah no shit. for starters, how old was he? 15? 17? you know, not all of us came to terms with our sexuality when we were digging up shit in a sandbox. it can happen later. it can happen much later. but what caught my attention in that paragraph i quoted above “but in reality, he’d never experienced such hectic feelings before.” was wei wuxian not interested in men in his first life? sure! according to the novel, he also wasn’t much interested in women! was it ever a consideration, that perhaps, for a teenager going through war and also shitload of other terrible events, romantic endeavors might have not been a priority? sure, he had an image, he had a reputation of a shameless dumbass to protect, but do we not know it was a pretence? it’s almost like characters like nie huaisang don’t exist. 

but also specifically for a teenager who was already experiencing his first crush, that he didn’t acknowledge much, because, once again, he had a lot of other shit to worry about

this brings me not very smoothly to the second statement. and i wanna start by giving some more credit to wei wuxian (who isn’t as dumb as he sometimes seems) and take some credit from lan wangji (who is a bit dumber than i thought he is), which brings them to the same level of idiots in love. 

wei wuxian doesn’t understand what lan wangji is feeling towards him. yeah. to be fair, adult lan wangji did a lot of things, some of which were more obvious than the others. but lan wangji wasn’t always like that. if i recall correctly, he spent almost the entirety of gusu summer camp rejecting wwx’s attempts in friendship, being an asshole and just plain rude (yes, wwx also was rude, but still) (yes, on the inside lan wangji was panicking in gay, but on the outside he was Just Rude, and WE know that, wei wuxian doesn’t). in the cave? lan wangji is overwhelmed and once again kinda rude to wwx, and he bites him, and again, WE know that lwj is probably going through a lot, wei wuxian knows less. moreover, later in the novel there is some more context given to why wei wuxian reacted like that to being bitten by lan wangji, our guy is straight up scared of being bitten, because he associates biting with dogs. they both were having kinda a shit time in that cave and i can’t blame them. during sunshot lan wangji was constantly arguing with wei wuxian and pretty openly dissaproving of his ways that he didn’t understand for obvious reasons. none of this says “i’m your friend and also i’m in love with you and i’m not actually trying to control you or reject you, i just don’t know what else to do”

and every time lan wangji would master his bravery to do something that would make his feelings more obvious, he would do it while wei wuxian couldn’t possible know that lan wangji was doing it. (e.g. singing wangixan to him in the cave while wei wuxian is out of it because of the fever, kissing him while he’s blindfolded). and the last chance in wwx’s first life that lwj got to confess his feelings, wei wuxian was simply not in the state to remember it or even process what was happening at all. 

coming back to his second life, wei wuxian actually becomes aware of his own feelings. not immediately, but dude was just dead like a few days ago, give him some time. and it’s not that he doesn’t notice that adult lan wangji now treats him differently, and certainly not how he treats anyone else, wei wuxian is straight up just afraid, without a direct conformation, that he’s still misunderstanding something. and taking in consideration all that i said previously, i can’t blame him. if any of these two could actually use their words, and ask questions they wanted to ask, this whole mess could have been avoided. but lan wangji can’t be direct (he doesn’t want to impose), and wei wuxian can’t trust indirect hints (he puts lan wangji way above himself and doesn’t believe hanguang-jun could get down to “his level”). 

and so they operate on this perfectly dysfunctional system of “i’ll just carry on with my own agenda, hoping for nothing in return” and also:

wwx: i’ll get him drunk (if he wants to get drunk) to just ask a few questions that i can’t ask while he’s sober

lwj: i’ll get drunk to be a little bit more free around wei ying, as i can’t be like that while i’m sober and i won’t remember it anyway

and, surprise, it doesn’t help their understanding of each other’s feelings. it doesn’t mean that wei wuxian is that oblivious, it just mean that things can’t work out like that, you need to TALK sometimes. (i didn’t get there yet, but thank god for lan xichen). in fact, that terrible system of communication makes things worse and i’m pretty sure the novel is being very clear that it wants you too to understand that it makes things worse.

their terrible inability to communicate properly results into that chapter that i just read. they operate in the previously learned patterns: wei wuxian buys alcohol, cause he wants to ask lan wangji this important question, lan wangji gets drunk, cause he doesn’t want to be present in this reality (relatable) (drinking to forget is bad, kids), and shit goes down. 

wei wuxian doesn’t want to take advantage of drunk lan wangji, but then he gets carried way, and drunk lan wangji gets carried away and things happen. and by the end of it, both sober, they BOTH think that they forced the other one to do something he didn’t want to do and they both feel terrible about that. (once again, i’m pretty sure that the novel is very clear about how it’s actually bad to have sex with someone blackout drunk) so wei wuxian ends up thinking that he took advantage oh lan wangji who wasn’t in control of himself, lan wangji thinks that he lost control of himself and took advantage of wei wuxian who didn’t protest out of gratitude to lan wangji (his worst fear, btw). 

i got slightly carried away from my original topic, but it just pisses me off that someone looks at this and really thinks that the novel is glorifying this behaviour or whatever. it’s terrible, they both feel terrible, the novel is yelling at them to talk instead of getting drunk and fucking. 

so yeah, wei wuxian isn’t that oblivious. but that situation doesn’t clear anything out, actually, because by the end of the day lan wangji sobers up, and wei wuxian sees his reaction to what happened, which was not a good reaction, and how is he supposed to understand lan wangji’s thought process correctly if he never says anything?  so wei wuxian ends up thinking that yeah, he gave in to his own wishful thinking, and terribly terribly fucked up (i mean, he did fuck up, but not as much as he thinks). 

idk how to end this so i just hope my point came across as i intended it and i’m just glad it’s all out

[we-are-inevitable]

not moving on, not looking back // javid (ch. 10)

A/N: y’all know the drill

TW: discussion of abuse (physical and substance related)

Read On AO3!

And that’s how it starts.

They stop at David’s beforehand so he can change out of his slacks, shirt, and tie, and if David purposefully wears an outfit to elicit a certain response from Jack, he plays it off pretty well. He had changed into a tight white t-shirt and a pair of jeans that fit in all the right places, hidden under a baggy hoodie that he didn't take off until he was safe within the walls of Jack’s home. It feels… empty, now that Katherine isn’t there to fill the space with her voice, her presence.

It’ll be an adjustment, but as long as Katherine and Jack are okay with it, then David will follow their lead.

David sits alone on his phone while Jack goes upstairs and changes. He scrolls through twitter for a while, until he hears footsteps and-- oh, holy shit. Jack walks into view wearing a black sleeveless muscle shirt and gray sweats, and his hair looks so deliciously messy from combing the gel out. He’d clearly gone for the more comfortable look, and David has to stop himself from staring.

“You want anything to drink?” Jack asks as he walks into the kitchen, which prompts David to stand and follow him. Jack grabs a beer from the fridge, offering a second to David.

“Hey, I know we kind of talked already, but… How are you? Like, really?” David asks as Jack takes a drink.

Jack takes in a deep breath and shrugs as he hops onto the island in the middle of the kitchen, swinging his feet. He looks up at David, who has positioned himself to lean against the counter about two feet in front of Jack. “It… It tore me up for a while last night, after she told me, but honestly? I feel a lot better. Like a weight’s been lifted. I had a bad panic attack, but we talked more last night than we’ve talked to each other in ages, and I… I feel like I got my best friend back, y’know? I didn’t get a lot of sleep, though, just… because it’s makin’ me think about stuff I ain’t never thought about before.”

“Like what?” David asks softly, tilting his head before taking a sip of the beer. “Not that- I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but maybe I can help a little. I don’t mind.”

“It’s just… Family stuff,” Jack admits, then rubs his forehead. “We told my Ma last night and she was, y’know, a bit disappointed, but she understood. I just… The whole divorce thing makes me feel like my dad,” Jack explains softly, crossing his arms over his chest. For someone who is nearing thirty, Jack looks like a vulnerable teenager right then. He slowly looks up into David’s eyes, gulping. “He always said he regretted not getting a divorce. He wasn’t a good guy at all. Homophobic, real republican, but my mom married him because he had a good job and a good family. He was the one to kinda push the whole football thing on me, but I was never good at playin’, y’know? Loved the game, but I didn’t have any skill, trust me," Jack says with a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Did they get a divorce? Your parents?”

“No, my, uh… My mama died before anything was finalized, and everything kinda took a turn. I got… I don’t know. I was really fucked up for a long time. The school counselor suggested that I start drawing my feelings or starting a journal or something, and it worked. Really well, actually. I loved it.”

“Is that what got you into art? Kath mentioned that you wanted to go to art school,” David murmurs, moving to lean against the island, right next to Jack’s leg.

“Yeah, actually,” Jack says with a laugh, then gulps. “My dad wasn’t a fan of me doing the art stuff. I took an art class in middle school, and we had a showcase at the end of the year. I invited him to it, and he-- Do you, uh, do you mind if I talk about this? I don’t wanna force, like, heavy shit on you if you aren’t comfortable,” Jack cuts himself off, looking at David with a gulp. “I’ve only ever told my ma and Kath about this. My dad just… wasn’t a nice guy.”

“Thanks for checking in, but I don’t mind, okay? I’ll tell you if I’m ever not in the right headspace, but, Jack, you’re going through a lot. Just let it out,” David encourages with a sad grin.

Jack nods, then takes in a deep breath. “So-- Art show. Dad said he wasn’t gonna come. Told me he wasn’t gonna support me doing something ‘queer’, even though I’m- even though I told him I wasn’t,” Jack explains, taking a long drink from his bottle with a blank expression on his face. “But, uh, he didn’t believe me when I told him I wasn’t, and he… slapped me. That was when I was eleven. The physical stuff continued, ‘specially when football season started up again and he saw that I was on the bench every game, ‘cause I really wasn’t good at it. It got… rough. It only stopped when my coach noticed a bruise when we were practicing and I- I guess I was real stiff and limping real hard, so he told me to sit out, and when I took my pads off, my shirt lifted up, and… My dad was in police custody the next morning.”

“Fuck, Jack,” David says in an apologetic voice, staring at him with a lump in his throat. “I’m so sorry you went through that… Did he go to prison, or--”

“Yeah, there was a bunch of evidence, so- so he went to prison. Really easy case against him. He was supposed to get, um, ten years, I think. The last time I saw him, he told me that he was glad my mom was dead so she didn’t have to see me 'turn gay’- like I said, he was a shitty guy. That… I don’t know. I used to be like that, too, but then one of my friends, a coworker of mine, came out, like… eight years ago?” Jack bites his lip, looking down at his hands after putting his bottle down. “I’ve changed. I realized that I was just actin’ like him. I never realized he was so… bad, until I became an adult.”

“Are you still…” David gulps. “You haven’t talked to your father?”

Jack looks up at David, and smiles sadly. “He had a heart attack in prison, about five years in. So… yeah. I’m all that’s left.”

David is at a loss for words. He doesn’t know what to say. This is not how he thought the night would go, but at least Jack was getting to vent and David was getting to know him on an even more personal level but, good God, Jack had been through so much.

And adding being adopted, losing his daughter, and divorcing his wife into the mix…

Jack has hurt more in his life than he ever let on.

“Jack, I… I don’t know what to say,” David admits with a frown, but slowly reaches out, placing a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Thank you for telling me all of that. You… You’re so strong, y’know? You’ve been through so much, yet you’re successful and smart and… I know we haven’t known each other long, but I am so, so proud of you. But- but you shouldn't have had to be so strong. You didn't deserve any of that. Not the… Not the abuse, or the homophobia, or the pressure. If you ever need to talk about it again, I’m just a phone call away.”

“Thank you, Davey, that means a lot,” Jack says with a tight-lipped grin, then gulps. “What about you? You got any skeletons in your closet? 'S only fair that you tell me somethin' sad now, y'know.”

David stares at him for a moment. He then holds up one finger and downs the rest of the beer in his bottle, taking in a deep breath once he is done. His eyes close and he tilts his head back, then begins speaking. “From the age of twenty-two to about a month and a half ago, I was addicted to cocaine. I had a brief stint in which heroin was a daily thing, but that stopped after a few months. Too expensive. I regularly had sex with drug dealers in exchange for pills, I’ve been kicked out of gay bars for showing up high out of my mind, I now go to Narcotics Anonymous meetings, and I have to spend, like, ten minutes every morning trying to convince myself not to call in sick just because I’m having bad withdrawals. Bad as in, like, shaking in the shower and crying because I feel like I need to shoot up.” He slowly opens one eye, shooting a sad grin toward Jack. “I guess we’re even, huh?”

Jack stares at him for a few moments, then lets out a laugh as he nods along. “I- I guess you can say that, yeah,” He murmurs, then looks at David with a gulp. “If you ever need anything, just let me know, ‘kay? I don’t… I don’t really have experience with that kind of stuff, but if you ever need anything, I’m here, whether you need to talk, or you… need somewhere to stay,” Jack says slowly, seriously, and David nods. “I’m right here, Dave. Just like you're here for me.”

“Thank you, Jack. I’ve been getting better, I think- the, uh, withdrawals are starting to mellow out, at least a little bit, but it’s just… getting used to sobriety that’s throwing me for a loop,” David admits. He watches Jack’s eyes shift from his face to the empty bottle in his hand, and David shakes his head. “I know what you’re thinking-- I never had an alcohol problem, it was just the drugs. I, uh, don’t drink often, though. Just to make sure.”

David doesn’t drink often because David has an addictive personality. David doesn’t drink often because David knows he’s susceptible to alcoholism if he goes down the wrong path.

It makes him feel better to know that Jack is watching out for him in that way, though.

“If you’re sure,” Jack responds with a kind smile. The two of them fall into a comfortable silence. Jack finishes his beer, David watches him, and everything is… calm.

But not for long.

“Dave? Can I ask you a kind of weird question?”

“Shoot.”

“How’d ya know you were gay?”

David’s eyes widen a bit. He wasn’t expecting... that. He looks up, but Jack refuses to meet his eyes. He’s instead staring at the cabinet above the sink, sitting eerily still, and David isn’t sure how to respond for a few moments. Slowly, David shrugs, and looks down at his hands. “I just never really found an interest in women. Plus, I used to be really into this guy in one of my classes… I don’t know, it was just kind of natural for me. My parents were religious, but they never really said anything about it if I brought guys home for dinner, or if I wore makeup to school. I never really had that… epiphany, I just… I was just gay. Never questioned it,” He explains, holding his breath in the heavy silence that follows. He slowly glances back up toward Jack, expecting to see him staring off into space, but to his surprise Jack is staring right back at him. “Can I ask why you’re asking?”

Jack gulps. There’s a long moment of silence, before he sits up a little straighter. “Kath has been talking about 'self exploration' ever since yesterday. Mentioned she’s, uh… curious.”

“Mhm.”

Jack meets David’s eyes. He stares for a few moments before locking his lips, straightening his posture, and saying, “I think I might be, too.”

There’s a beat of silence. David holds his breath. Holds Jack’s gaze. He waits for a few moments, waiting for Jack to back down, but it never comes. Finally, David gives in.

He asks, breathless, “Wanna find out?”

There’s no more speaking after that.

[wyofabdoms]

Undercover I Do - Chapter 5

Characters: Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: While on an undercover assignment posing as a married couple, you are attacked and nearly assaulted. Upon waking, all you remember about Javier Peña is what you remembering seeing from two photographs of the two of you posing as the happily married couple. As you struggle to regain your memories, Javi struggles with his own feelings for you.

Rating: Mature (Eventual smut)

Warnings: fake/pretend relationship, married and undercover trope, temporary amnesia, hospitalization, blood and injury, swearing, awkward Javi, unrequited feels, mentions of sex toys, feelings, pining, 

Word Count: 3132

Notes: You're released from the hospital, and Javi sets up house. While doing so, he stumbles across a couple of things that make him feel all kinds of ways!

Read on Ao3

You were released from the hospital two days later under the stipulation that you were to rest and were not to return to any kind of active field duty until fully cleared by the doctor and his medical team.  Over the course of those two days, some of your memories had seeped back in, like figures appearing through thick fog and slowly taking form and shape.  But, it seemed to you, not any of the really important ones were returning.  You remembered now some specific events from the last two years of your time as an agent: big busts you had made, critical incidents that had ended badly for your agency, colleagues that had been lost in the line of duty.  You had been able to recall many details of your work against the worst of the drug cartels in Colombia from the last two years and even further back...but most memories of things from the past three or four weeks were still a grey void with nothing in them, not even shadows to hint at memories waiting there in the fog.

You were rarely alone at the hospital: if Dixon was not sitting at your bedside, then Javi was there in her place. Between the two of them, you had managed to scrape together some large pieces that were missing about your relationships: you had worked with Dixon earlier in your career in San Diego and when she had risen in ranks and earned a seat down here in the thick of things, she had brought you along with her.  You had the feeling that she viewed you as a bit of a protege and you felt confident that the memories you had of her support and backing of you were true.  Memories about your relationship with Javi proved to be a bit more difficult to get confirmation on.  While both Dixon and Javi were very willing to discuss and confirm anything you asked about your mentor, when you inquired or asked for clarification on your history with your husband, both agents seemed to hesitate for a moment before answering you.  Dixon was more guarded than Javi and the older woman would often change the subject as quickly as she could when you asked her about your husband.  You got a distinct sense that she did not approve of your marriage to the man you had been partnered with during your time here.

You remembered that was how you had met Javi; you had been assigned as his partner.  You remembered the earliest days of working with him: how he had flirted with you and you had rebuffed him, how there had been moments when your partnership had skated the line of something more.  But it was only the older memories that seemed to come clearly to you...the closer to present day you came, the emptier your memories became.  You had tried to remember when exactly your relationship with Javi had made the jump from work partner to life partner.  When and how had the two of you told each other how you felt?  And you had zero memories of a proposal, a wedding....no memories at all of how it felt to touch and be touched by the handsome man who spent hours sitting in comfortable silence next to your bed. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him questions about those things...not yet.

Surprisingly, Dixon was the one who escorted you when you were released.  After the older woman saw you carefully buckled into the passenger seat of the car, you inquired as to why Javi wasn’t the one driving you home.  Dixon’s eye flickered behind her dark sunglasses, and she mumbled something about him getting your apartment ready for you. She assured you that he would be waiting at your home when you got there.

Your home.  For a moment, your stomach sank, thinking about how you would be going back to a place that was foreign to you but was supposed to be a safe haven, a refuge, the home you shared with a husband you were supposed to be in love with.  Would you remember any of it?  Would anything that you found there help jog anything loose in your memory?

You could only hope.

***

“Fuck!”

Javi growled as he struggled to keep a box from teetering off the pile of other boxes that it was precariously stacked on.  His hands were full of his clothes on hangers, halfway between the box he had just removed them from and the clothing pole in the closet.  He had been struggling most of the morning with lugging half of his possessions down the two flights of stairs of their shared apartment building and trying to make it appear as though he had lived in this apartment for longer than a few hours.  Both he and Dixon had agreed it would be best for her to return to familiar surroundings...but they still needed to keep up the premise that the two of you shared a life together.

Javi had never given much thought to domesticity.  The closest he had ever come was Lorraine...and the brief moment of introspection he had had when he had seen her those several years ago at that wedding.  Thoughts had crossed his mind then: what would it be like to have a wife, to wear a ring on his finger, to have promised himself to someone forever?  To have a future that was shared with another person?  To make important decisions with another person and not just on your own?  To have 2.5 kids and a house?  But he hadn’t spent too much time dwelling on it simply because none of that was really who Javi was, was completely unimaginable to him.  He had never once really thought that sort of life would ever be one he would want, much less be able to live.  And, quite honestly, he wasn’t all that sure that that kind of life was one that he deserved.

Now, it seemed, life was playing a little gag on him: turns out maybe there WAS a way for him to see if married life was for him...although he did hate the fact that his partner had had to be injured in the process.  

One thing he was certain of at the moment, though: if getting married and divvying up and combining possessions was as big a pain in the ass for real as it was for this farce?...Well, that was a strike against matrimony in his opinion.

At first he had merely grabbed a small duffle bag full of items; things he thought he might leave at a woman’s house if he was spending the night or a weekend: a change of clothes, toiletries, firearm.  But when he had let himself into her apartment two floors below his in their building, it had struck him that that wasn’t going to be good enough. 

Her apartment was lived in.  Unlike his own, which he realized now seemed a little sterile and cold, her’s was warm and (though not a word he often used in his vocabulary) cozy.  She had artwork on the walls, shelves full of books from all different genres...even a few board games and some well-worn records on the record player stand. He spotted a rolled up yoga mat under a bench beneath the window and a couple of handwritten recipes and smiling photos tucked under bright magnets on the refrigerator. Her bedroom smelled of lavender and soft vanilla; the bed was neatly made (again, unlike his own) and dirty clothes resided in a hamper rather than tossed carelessly into a corner. The spare room that served as an office housed neatly organized work related content and photo albums of people from home, holiday decorations stashed under the guest bed; her closet had her clothes neatly organized (by color, who knew!?). He had quickly come to the conclusion that he might need to put a bit more effort into this charade.

So he had proceeded to spend the next several hours being swept into a whirlwind of imagining what a shared space would look like if the two of them were actually married.  He had started with the few books he had in his own apartment; a few biographies, some car magazines and a ratty copy of “The Art of War” and “The Hobbit”.  He had jammed them onto the neat bookshelves in her living room before returning quickly with some of his own records: some Cumbia records and an Eagles album, which he shuffled in with her own Steely Dan, Creedence Clearwater and Three Dog Night. 

He didn’t have much to contribute to the kitchen besides a few bottles of whiskey and a bottle of tequila next to her own bottles of red wine.  He had pulled a photo taken when he graduated from high school from his wallet and placed it on the fridge next to one of her with her huge family.  He paused a moment to assess the contrast in the two pictures: her in the midst of her five older brothers and parents, all wearing matching Christmas sweaters...him standing bashfully and stiffly next to his dad, who grinned proudly at the camera, one arm awkwardly slung over a teenage Javi’s shoulder.  The bathroom didn’t take long, either.  He added his razor, a bottle of Old Spice, and his toothbrush and comb; he glanced into the medicine cabinet as he placed his deodorant there and eyed what looked suspiciously like a package of prescription birth control...his mind started to wander and he slammed the cabinet door shut, heading back upstairs to his apartment for another load.  

He had strong-armed his clothes still on the hangers into some file boxes to make them easier to carry down the stairs, then had hauled shoes, underthings, suits, jeans, and (what he had not really realized until this moment) a ridiculous amount of the same style shirt in different colors downstairs and was now trying to wedge them into one half of her closet, trying to make it look like they had been there for a while and doing his best to not become buried by the haphazardly stacked boxes.  Once the last set of shoes was stuffed into the closet next to a pair of sky high red heels he had never seen her wear before, (he was CERTAIN he would have remembered those) he opened the dresser to shove his socks and underwear into a drawer and gulped. Staring back at him was a drawer full of his partner’s bras and panties.  

For a moment he felt like a creep pawing through her underwear drawer, but he steeled himself and carefully nudged the sensible pieces of cotton material to one side of the drawer.  As the material shifted, he spotted a brief flash of red lace and something that could be black and leather, but he refused to investigate any further; he could feel his face flushing and his heart pounding harder.  He dumped his own underwear into the drawer and shoved it closed, sighing with relief and opening the next one; socks wouldn’t cause his mind to wander into dangerous territory nearly as badly!  He carefully shoved the rolls of clothing to the side to make room for his own once again and felt his hand hit something.  His breath hitched as he uncovered what was very obviously a vibrator.  Next to it was a tube of lube and a small box about the size of a deck of cards.  Try as he might, he could not stop himself from carefully tilting open the lid of the box...Javi was quite educated when it came to knowing his way around a woman, but he was clueless as to the purpose or use of the two small colored balls nestled into the velvet inside of the box...although he was pretty sure he at least knew where they were supposed to go.  

His mind clouded with images of his partner stretched out on the bed behind him, bringing herself to orgasm using these items and he felt himself harden in his jeans.  He let out a puff of air and carefully nudged the items to the other side of the drawer, reburying them beneath the socks as they had been before.  He piled in his own footwear, then shakily closed the drawer, still trying to blink away the images playing out in his mind.  He wondered what her face would look like as she came apart.  What did she sound like?  Did she cry out when she reached her peak?  What would his name sound like tumbling from her lips in the middle of her climax, what would she taste like…?

He stormed out of the bedroom, furious at himself for going down that path.  He felt like a pervert, getting so turned on after snooping through her personal effects.  He was angry at Dixon for insisting that they do this; but he was frustrated at himself, more.  He shouldn’t be going through her things like this.  He splashed some cold water on his face from the kitchen sink and trudged back up to his own apartment, pacing for a while once he got there, trying to both ease his erection as well as determine what else he should bring with him back to her apartment.  His eyes settled on the shoulder case that had been retrieved from the house that had been used in the undercover operation.  He pulled out the two framed photographs that had been next to “their” bed; the photos that she had referenced when she had first woken up.  He stared at them, thinking that if he hadn’t been present at the time they had been taken, he would have believed they were real, too...that they were actual photographs of two people madly in love with each other.  

Maybe…

No.  He stuck both pictures under his arms, grabbed another box filled with work files, tossed his favorite ashtray and lighter in the box along with one or two small tchotkes, a couple of coasters and a small plastic plant from the window sill, and made one more trip down the stairs.  He dispersed the items randomly throughout her apartment, thinking to himself that it at least gave a more unified image of two different people existing within the same space.  

He hauled the box of paperwork into her second bedroom converted into an office space and plopped it down on the desk, taking one or two folders and strewing them about the top of the desk, again in stark contrast to her own organized, neat piles.  It started to reflect their separate desks at work now, which he found convincing.  He sat in the desk chair for a minute and quickly shuffled through the small desk drawers, double checking for anything glaring that might be difficult to explain.  As he opened the bottom drawer, his eye caught a blue leather bound notebook.  Flipping through it, he saw pages and pages of writing in his partner’s familiar handwriting.  As he thumbed through, he was startled to spot his name on one page.  He carefully flipped back, scanning the writing and was surprised to find that it actually appeared quite often.  He turned a page and began reading from the beginning:

“Everything sometimes feels so incredibly heavy here.  The job, the humidity, the pressure of being a woman in this man’s arena.  I hate it!  I hate that I have to be strong all the damn time.  I hate that it feels like I can’t seek the same comforts as other women...even if I have insisted that it be this way.  I’m so grateful and proud of myself...most of the time...like 95.5% of the time.  The other times, I just wish I could let myself cry when something heartbreaking happens.  When someone says something scathing that hurts my feelings at work.  When I watch Javi go off to sleep with yet another woman.

Javi.  That feels so heavy all of the time, too.  I can’t seem to ever level myself out when it comes to him.  Some days he drives me absolutely insane and I want nothing more than to bash his face in with a paperweight.  Other days, I just want him to put his arms around me and hold me.  Not do anything or say anything, just hold me tight…because he is, truthfully, the only single person that I trust.  

And yet, am I fooling myself in saying that...in saying that I trust him?  Because do I really?  If I really trusted him, why don’t I just go to him?  He only lives two floors up.  Why can’t I knock on his door and fling myself into his arms and kiss him and feel what it’s like to press my body against his?  Why can’t I bring myself to do that?  Well...probably because I don’t really ACTUALLY trust him...not with that part of myself.  Javi is the man I want having my back in a shootout...but is he the man I want to be next to me every night when I fall asleep and every morning when I wake up?  I dream about him sometimes...about him being in my bed with me, but we’re usually not sleeping...we’re doing everything but.  I dream about it and then I wake up feeling empty because he’s not there, because it wasn’t real.  The emptiness is heavy, too...”

Javi clapped the journal shut, feeling his stomach churn.  He shouldn’t have read that and guilt thrummed through him.  These were her private thoughts; never meant for anyone else but her to read.  Once again he felt like an intruder and he loathed himself...Dixon...that asshole Ortiz...for putting both of them in this situation.  He dragged a hand over his face, growling low in his throat.  He looked down at the box at his feet, still open with a few files and the two photographs staring back up at him.  He reached in and took out one framed picture, sitting it upright on the desk: the “engagement” photo.  He took the “wedding” picture out and then tossed the journal into the box, carrying both items from the home office.  He carefully set up the photo on a bookshelf in the living room, then put the lid back on the box and headed back up the stairs to drop the box off in his apartment and lock up.  Before he left, though, he made sure to slip the freshly cleaned gold band onto his left ring finger.

His wife would be coming home any minute now.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8,  Chapter 9, Chapter 10,  Chapter 11,  Chapter 12,  Chapter 13