#it's like. i feel like i should be doing more. looking for more jobs looking more doing more

[yanderenightmare]

Can you write more for naoya zenin? Your writting is soo good omg, i was thinking about ex husband naoya

Naoya Zenin

♡ TW: toxic relationship, toxic family, arranged marriage, obsessiveness, possessiveness, denied divorce, abuse, kidnapping

♡ FEM reader

Ex-husband Naoya, who refuses to sign the papers as there’s no such thing as divorce in the Zenin clan—who says it’s shameful and that you should know better than to think you can just walk away from him just like that.

Ex-husband Naoya, who is very clear about it—how if you leave, it will be with nothing to your name—nothing but the clothes on your back, and barely even that—because everything you have is owned by him—and the only reason he’s ever been willing to share it is because you’ve paid for it in his bed.

Ex-husband Naoya, who can’t believe it when you leave him anyway—who’s certain he’s coming home to a dutiful wife, all silly ideas put to rest, sweetly apologetic for ever having raised the thought—but instead comes home to a quiet, cold, and empty house—divorce papers the only trace you’ve left behind.

Ex-husband Naoya, who immediately has the Zenin clan shun your clan and makes sure all other clans do the same, completely cutting you off—telling your clan leaders that until they deliver on their side of their alliance and have you return to your rightful place, their clan is to be held in contempt.

Your family begs you to go back to him, to stop this rebellion you’re so childishly insisting on. Your father even commands you, but you’re done taking orders from men—and their brainwashed wives. You don’t owe them anything—they’re the ones who sold you off to that misogynistic madman in the first place. Serves them right to suffer the way you have.

And so, you go off on your own. 

But with his resources, ex-husband Naoya’s always able to find you—and make your life hell. Any job you manage to get fires you only a few weeks later for reasons unknown—encouraged by a silent donation—and realtors will suddenly tell you that the apartment you’ve been interested in is off the market.

Ex-husband Naoya, who comes to collect you from the woman’s shelter you’ve taken refuge at, fed-up and beyond ready to put an end to whatever it is you think you’re up to.

“I don’t have any more time for this nonsense of yours,” he says— patronizing tone making him look ugly and nothing like the great man he thinks he is. “You’re out of money, and you’re out of places to run. Come with me now, and I will still allow you a gracious return.” 

Ex-husband Naoya, who really must be the most entitled man in the world.

“Make me waste any more time, and I’ll—”

“Fuck your gracious return,” you cut him off, continuing with a sneer, “Only way I’m going anywhere with you is kicking and screaming. Now get the fuck out before I call security and have you arrested.”

Ex-husband Naoya, who looks at you as if you’ve gone mad, then proceeds to feel driven insane himself—laughing at your threat like it was all a really funny joke.

“I’ve been lenient enough with you, humoring this little rebellion of yours, allowing you to come home on your own,” he says, his voice whispy with breath, just shy of unhinged—then dead and cold come his next words, “But I see now… I’ve been too indulgent.” 

Ex-husband Naoya, who meant it when he said he was done playing games.

Ex-husband Naoya, who doesn’t have an issue with your kicking and screaming.

♡ NAOYA ZENIN masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[cassiebones]

nobody can convince me that agatha and rio wouldn't have had more children had nicky not died, had Death been allowed to have living, semi-mortal children. They only lasted like 50 years before their eldest was born. They would have continued to make more babies for the next three hundred and beyond. Every time one of their children is old enough to basically fend for theirself, Agatha feels that longing for a baby and Rio can't deny her.

It takes three or four kids before Agatha has a kid that looks as much like her as Nicky looks like Rio. When this child, Mari (short for Mariposa), reaches adulthood, she develops that same little gap between her teeth (in modern times, she would have gotten braces, but she was born in the late 1700's okay, give her a break) so she does look somewhat like Rio, but she has bright blue eyes and her hair curls like Agatha's. She also has a similar power set to Agatha, which Agatha fosters as much as she could because nobody ever did that for her.

By modern day, they probably have about twenty kids, the youngest of which is still small enough to carry as they move into Westview, acting like a modern lesbian couple. They are single-handedly repopulating the witch community that Agatha killed off.

But they're happy and in love. All their children are pretty well-adjusted. Nicky still has a big heart. He's probably a doctor somewhere, moving around when people start to question why he doesn't age - at least until Eternals are accepted and superheroes just become more commonplace. Nobody questions why he looks like he's thirty-five when he should be closer to his seventies (nobody knows what his true age is) and he still visits his mothers. Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't always appreciate when Rio visits him at work.

Three of their children train as Reapers with Rio. The rest are scattered around the world, living their lives, but they always call their mothers, or they visit with their own partners and children.

The youngest three are juveniles, so they live with their mothers in the suburbs. They're as mischievous as Rio, causing havoc wherever they go, but they're studious, too, like Agatha, so they get good grades and do well in their magic studies.

When Wanda tries to start her bullshit, Agatha stops her, putting a pin in her grief. Instead of draining her power, she becomes a kind of mentor to Wanda. This Agatha never lost her son, but she does have a shit ton of trauma from her youth resulting from her own coven just refusing to teach her, and she recognizes Wanda as another untrained witch. So she trains her. She teaches her how to use the powers that she's familiar with. She gathers other witches (Lilia, Alice, Jen) to help her where they can. They converse with Stephen Strange on how to best help Wanda in her grief and magic.

I really wish Agatha's What If...? episode had been "What if Agatha had never lost her son?" rather than the Hollywood episode. Don't get me wrong: it was a fun fucking episode. But I just wish we'd seen more of Agatha being happy with her family.

[misctf]

What do you think about that idea?

A homophonic nerd who hates christmas. Get a present of the local frats and turns into a new member of the frats and celebrating Christmas by getting fucked by his new bros or/and fuck them.

Jeremy groans as he hears aggressive knocking at his door. Maybe if he ignores them, they'll leave. But after a few more minutes, the aggressive knocking returns. He looks up from his chemistry textbook and sighs.

“Its finals season, don't people have better stuff to do? He grumbles as he walks and opens the door, “This better be good.” He mumbles, but as he opens the door, his eyes narrow.

Jeremy glares at the burly fraternity brothers standing on his doorstep- half naked despite the cold. Their obnoxious Christmas caroling grating on his nerves. 

“Can't you see I'm trying to study?” he snaps, crossing his arms over his thin chest.

The frat boys' smirks falter momentarily at Jeremy's harsh tone. They shift uncomfortably, seemingly surprised by the reaction. One of them, clearly the ringleader, steps forward.

“Hey, chill out man! We were just trying to spread some holiday cheer.” he says, attempting a grin.

His biceps flex as he crosses his arms, mirroring Jeremy's posture. The others snicker behind him, their eyes roving over Jeremy's slender frame. 

“Yeah, you could use a little 'cheer' yourself, nerd.” another one sneers.

“Fuck off 'bros'.” Jeremy mocks, “Don't you have anything better to do? Maybe get drunk and give each other bro-jobs?” He smirks, clearly proud of his taunting.

The frat boys exchange angry glances, but their leader holds up a hand, silencing them. He turns back to Jeremy, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Alright, alright, let's not escalate things here.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something small, holding it out to Jeremy, “Here, consider this a peace offering.” It's a gingerbread man, intricately decorated to resemble a buff, muscular figure, “I hope you appreciate the effort we put into this.” the frat boy says, chuckling, “We figured since you're so into...books and shit, maybe a little holiday baking would brighten your day.”

The others snicker, but there's an undercurrent of tension still lingering in the air. Jeremy narrows his eyes suspiciously at the gingerbread man, but takes it. After an awkward and begrudging thank you, he slams the door in their face. Jeremy slams the door shut, annoyed at the interruption. He sets the gingerbread man down on his desk, eyeing it skeptically. It's ridiculous how detailed the decoration is, almost like a caricature of muscle-bound masculinity.

“What a joke.” He mutters.

Jeremy picks up the gingerbread man, examining it closer. Despite himself, he feels a pang of hunger. He breaks off a leg and pops it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. There's a sweetness to it, but also a savory depth that's surprisingly satisfying.

��Huh, not bad. Maybe those assholes actually know how to bake.” He chuckles at the thought of burly frat bros baking together.

Jeremy barely notices the subtle tingling sensation starting in his legs. At first, it's almost imperceptible - a slight heaviness, a tightening of the skin. He absentmindedly rubs his thigh. As he continues munching on the gingerbread man’s legs, the sensations intensify in his lower extremities. Muscles begin to swell and thicken beneath the surface of his skin, straining against the fabric of his jeans. The denim stretches taut, creaking softly as it struggles to contain the rapid growth. His calves bulge outward, transforming from a lean, wiry shape into a thick, corded mass. Veins pulse visibly along its length, prominent and throbbing. Higher up, Jeremy's thighs begin to balloon, expanding into a formidable pillars of raw power. His quadriceps and hamstrings hypertrophy at an alarming rate, bunching and rippling beneath his skin.

“Fuck.” He mumbles, shifting uncomfortably on his new pillowy bubble butt, “I should move around a bit.”

He stands up to stretch and takes a bite out of the gingerbread man’s torso. As he does, he feels a surge of energy course through his body. His stomach rumbles hungrily, craving more of the sweet, spicy flesh. He devours the rest of the torso in greedy mouthfuls, savoring every morsel. With each bite, Jeremy's transformation accelerates. His midsection expands, the once-skinny waistline now a chiseled expanse of defined abs. Each ripple and groove is etched into his skin like the finest marble sculpture. His chest broadens, pectoral muscles growing dense and powerful. His nipples harden into pert, masculine buds, standing proudly atop newly formed pecs. Shoulders widen, trapezius muscles bulging with strength.

Still unaware, Jeremy's hands tremble slightly as he brings the gingerbread man's arm to his mouth. He bites into the soft dough, feeling the texture melt between his teeth. The flavor explodes across his tongue, a perfect blend of spices and sweetness. As he chews, Jeremy's arms undergo a dramatic metamorphosis. Biceps and triceps swell, growing massive and imposing. Forearms thicken, veins popping out in stark relief. Wrists broaden, tendons standing out prominently as they anchor the gigantic muscles above. With each swallow, Jeremy's sense of balance and coordination deteriorate further. He stumbles backwards, dropping the gingerbread man's head onto the floor with a soft clatter. 

“Oh fuck!” He falls backwards and lands on his ass with a loud thump.

At that moment, his clothes rip from the strain of his muscles, falling away from his chiseled frame. Jeremy gasps when he sees his new figure. He surveys his new physique, hands reflexively reaching out to touch the ridged planes of his chest. His fingers trace the defined edges of his pectorals, marveling at the sheer size and hardness of the muscle beneath. Beneath the gaze of his own awestruck reflection, Jeremy becomes acutely aware of the substantial bulge straining against his underwear. He shifts uncomfortably, feeling the fabric dig into the newfound mass. With a sharp tug, the elastic waistband gives way, allowing the underwear to slip down his thighs and pool around his ankles.

“Holy shit... what did that gingerbread man do to me?” Jeremy gasps as he stares at his growing erection and he instinctively wraps a meaty hand around his cock.

A shiver runs down his spine as he realizes the full extent of his transformation - not just physical, but also primal and instinctual. His mind reels, struggling to comprehend the sudden shift in his desires and needs. Jeremy's gaze drifts to the remnants of the gingerbread man lying on the floor. The head, still intact, beckons to him with an unsettling allure. A part of his mind screams at him to resist, warning of unknown consequences, but the allure of the sweet, spicy treat proves too strong to ignore. With a sense of trepidation, Jeremy plucks up the gingerbread head. He brings it to his lips, hesitating for a moment before taking a tentative bite and then devouring it. The flavors explode across his taste buds, a potent cocktail of sugar, spice, and something darker, more primal.

“Oh fuck...” He grunts as he feels a pressure in his skull.

His features begin to shift, contorting into a more brutish, angular visage. His nose flattens, becoming wider and more prominent. Cheekbones sharpen, giving his face a harder, more chiseled appearance. His eyes, once a mirror into his sharp mind, become dull, gleaming with confidence and arrogance. A cocky smirk spreads across his lips, drawing attention to a set of perfectly straight, pearly white teeth.

“Oh yeah, I'm fucking beast mode now!” Jeremy boasts to no one in particular, admiring his reflection in the mirror, “Look at these guns!”

He flexes his massive biceps, watching in awe as the muscles ripple beneath his skin. He gives them each a kiss. His ego inflates with each passing second, replacing any semblance of humility or empathy.

“You know what? Fuck school. Who needs books when you've got a body like this?” Jeremy scoffs, kicking aside his textbooks and notes. “Time to live life to the fuckin’ fullest.”

A knock at the door pulls Jeremy away from his self-indulgence. He quickly grabs a pair of his old red briefs, which strain against his ass and cock, and strides over to the door. The frat boys who had earlier disrupted his study session stare wide-eyed at the towering, musclebound behemoth now standing before them. But their silence quickly turns into snickers and low whistles as they take in Jeremy's exaggerated physique and the prominent bulge straining against his skimpy underwear.

“Well, well, well, looks like that’s the way the cookie crumbled.” one of them jokes, elbowing his buddies and grinning wickedly. 

The others chuckle and high-five each other, clearly amused by their friend's successful prank. The ringleader steps forward, patting Jeremy's shoulder roughly.

“Welcome to the team, big guy! Now that you've got the right look, why don't you join us for some holiday cheer?”

Jeremy’s dull mind processes the request, and he grins as they hand him a Santa hat. And despite the cold, he joins his new brothers in their caroling. Belting out the words to various songs. Enjoying the looks of pure lust as he shows off his masculinity. As they walk back to the frat house, Jeremy felt a firm hand on his ass and feels the lustful eyes of his new frat bros on him.

“I think it might be time to frost our gingerbread man.” One of his bros snickers, adjusting his bulge, “You ready Jer?”

Jeremy's grin widens, his dull mind now consumed by a single-minded desire to please and impress his new fraternity brothers. He nods eagerly, a spark of excitement igniting in his chest at the prospect. He licks is lips, imaging their cocks in it- his ass pulsing with need. Yeah, he was going to give them a Christmas they’d never forget.

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 28/12

Anonymous asked: In the same vein as the Seer of Light/Witch of Space fakeout in the human session: do you think any of the trolls seem to not fit their assigned classpects, to reject it and imitate another, or to trade classes or aspects with another troll?

It's hard to tell if a given character fits their Title, when I don't know what each Title is supposed to symbolize.

Eridan, for example, didn't originally seem to evoke Hope. When I realized his 'hope' was essentially romantic delusion, it started to make a little more sense - but I have no idea if that's actually compatible with the Aspect's true meaning. We've only seen one Hope Player, so we don't know which aspects (lol) of his story are Hope-themed, and which are just Eridan being Eridan.

@relaxxattack asked: COMPLETELY unexpected coming from me (lol); but i doubt scratch, omniscient as he is, completely misunderstands slick’s motivations. i read it that perhaps slick’s emotional investment really is preventing him from killing snowman, despite all his lip service otherwise. i mean why else would scratch resort to auspisticism, the role made for breaking apart inconvenient pitch couples? plus all the brawler-like violence and threats of death— it really seems like he does need to force slick to cooperate and kill her

I kind of like that, actually. It would be pretty fun if Slick, of all people, managed to ruin Scratch's plans - and by having a heart, to boot!

@manorinthewoods asked: Proposal for the future: Whenever a flashback occurs, you take a guess as to whether or not it is a Dream Bubble. ~LOSS (14/12/24)

Yeah, I might actually give this a shot. I feel like I could do a pretty decent job of discerning whether a flashback is a Bubble, just based on whether the characters involved are currently unconscious or dead - although I can clearly still be fooled.

Anonymous asked: If Terezi hadn't been convinced beforehand (by Gamzee somehow?!) that Vriska was killing at random and absolutely had to go, I couldn't help but imagine at the time that Terezi COULD have saved Vriska if she tried, proving luck doesn't matter… by pulling a Harvey Dent and swapping her coin for a clean double-sided scratchless one just before flipping it, which her luck-stealing couldn't possibly make land scratched. It even would have proved to Vriska that she can't account for everything.

That would be pretty crafty, and I really like her hypothetical style - but honestly, I think Vriska was too far gone to be talked down. The fact that she stole that coin's luck in every timeline makes me think it was probably impossible to make her stay.

@caliquill asked: early in the liveblog you identified a Strider Ramble as a stress ramble. so it delights me that you have finally seen a TRUE Strider Stress Ramble. everything comes full circle.

Oh, true! Man, that's a deep cut.

I should have known, really. It's a pretty consistent character trait for Dave to get less ironic as he gets stressed - we already saw that at play in Davesprite's timeline.

@martinkhall asked: A lot of people seem to miss that he found his quest bed. Reading through his posts again this time I find myself wondering between his "dear departed family" and his imps being described as "sportitive rascals" if he prototyped a dead son. That sounds like a phrase that could descibe a young boy.

Aw man, that's heartbreakingly plausible. If we don't see Fedorafreak's story concluded in-universe, I will absolutely be looking for good Fedorafics when I'm done with the comic.

@bellcarved asked: you know, with the mention of a server player, i'm now imagining somebody else watching through the build menu and sending fedorafreak messages during this whole thing. "ff, i have the code for a bottle of water, and it only costs one unit of build grist. stop drinking your urine and generally treating this like a wilderness survival show, you are going to die. ff please respond."

Our man chose 'freak' as his handle for a reason. <3

@morganwick asked: Note that when Fedorafreak combines his pants with his shirt, it produces a "useless, excessively tall pant". This was after Pantskat had already become a meme.

It's so funny that this one wonky panel became so much of a meme. You just know that if Homestuck was ten years younger, it would have turned into an Among Us joke.

Anonymous asked: I think at one point Hussie said that fedorafreak's title would be the "gent of piss" but it's rather likely that they were just being silly. I also think that the title of a hope player would befit fedorafreak :) @marinerofthestars asked: for some incomprehensible reason hussie did in fact give us canon/‘canon’ fedorafreak lore on his formspring. he has the Title Gent of Piss and his server player (who survived at least long enough to get him into the medium) is 2busy4this (iirc they don’t actually appear elsewhere in the comic. guess hussie was. too busy for them) @morganwick asked: I believe Hussie has said that Fedorafreak's title is Gent of Piss. @skelekingfeddy asked: according to hussie fedorafreaks classpect is the Gent of Piss

Disrespecting our king! I have to assume that was a joke, because FedoraFreak deserves so much better than the Piss Aspect. I like Gent, though.

I was going to say I hoped that 2busy4this was able to enter the session - but really, that just means they'll die by Tumor, rather than meteor.

@morganwick asked: It was actually Fedorafreak's appearance on page 2918 that arguably made him a meme with the fandom.

It's been fun checking in with our king as we progress through the comic. I assume his memetic status is due to drinking his own urine - hence, the 'Gent of Piss' title that Hussie apparently saddled him with.

@clueless-rarito asked: Damn when I first read it didn't really sink in how fucked up the whole derse suicide mission situation was and how heartbreaking their whole conversation about it was. It's really the kind of thing you get a lot more from seeing someone else react to it

It's so twisted, isn't it? These poor children just want to protect each other, but each of them is convinced that the only way to do so is to die. Homestuck is so fucked sometimes.

@morganwick asked: Not to be too alarmist or presumptuous, but: did you not have anything to say about pages 3918-3920, or did your post(s) on those pages get eaten or otherwise lost?

Honestly, I just didn't have any commentary about them. They really just continued to depict the gradual return of John's memories, which I'd already talked about.

Sometimes I simply don't have that much to say about a given panel, even when the current arc is as exposition-heavy as this one. They can't all be mini-essays, y'know?

@wickedsick asked: Do you think Ghost John x Davesprite would count as…. Doomed yaoi?

Ayyyyyy!

@suroboro asked: So what you're saying is… that Terezi has gone Blind with Rage? (0;

Ayyyyyyyyyy!

Anonymous asked: after you finish homestuck you should 100% check out tumblr user meraki-sunset's crow strider au - it's wildly spoilery but i think as a davesprite lover you will enjoy it

Ah, yes, I'm pretty sure I know about this one! I've also been sent some of the artist's (non-spoilery) art, which looks absolutely gorgeous. It's definitely on the list!

Anonymous asked: This whole section is one of my favorite parts of Homestuck. All the conversations are so genuine and emotional, quiet and intimate, building anticipation but also savoring the moments they have before the end… ough. I gotta say, though it's probably the aspect I've understood the least since my classpecting phase, you really do strike me as Life oriented with a lot of the things you say :P

I still really llke the idea of being a Life Player - partially because I tend to gravitate towards healing, regeneration and resurrection abilities in games. I love getting tanky as fuck in Terraria, for example.

@manorinthewoods submitted: You know who, specifically, could have prevented Perfect Jack if she'd listened to her Denizen? Vriska. Vriska made the Choice that caused Bec Noir, unwittingly. If she hadn't, and if Denizen Choices truly do allow you to alter your own fate, then Jack never would have entered the troll session. Of course, whatever choice Vriska made to ensure Bec Noir's creation must have been earlier than the Veil. Potentially even in the presession! But if she just hadn't been Vriska, then… ~LOSS (19/12/24)

Wait, does it have to be earlier than the Veil? I don't think Vriska should even know about the kids' session until the game has already ended. Did I misapprehend some aspect of that plotline?

@krixwell asked: Worth considering in light of these revelations about Denizens and Typheus in particular: the parcel pyxis system, which fairly consistently takes things where they need to be. If Typheus controls the Breeze on LoWaS, he's basically the local mailman.

Heh, I like that. Perhaps that's why the Breeze will 'carry you to where need to go' - because it's being controlled by a postman, and a postman knows the destination of every package they handle.

@ramdomartkid asked: What do you think about the theory of the kids being homeschooled? As mensioned before, John never talks ab other ppl that aren't hs characters, (and aren't his neighbors) but he also never mentions why he's not at school at the beginning (or a b-day party with classmates) Same goes 4 Dave but Bro doesn't rl have that much motivation to put Dave in school in the first place. Less time for training. Rose…idk same as John And then Jade bc it's canon But that's just a theory…a webcomic theory (sorry if there are errors in grammar, english isnt my native language)

16:13 is fairly late in the afternoon, so John might have just returned from a day at school. I do think the homeschooling theory has merit, though - particularly with Dave, for the reasons you've already stated.

And yeah, Jade sort of had to be homeschooled if she was going to have any formal education at all. It would have ended pretty early, though. :(

@corporalotherbear asked:

LMAO

I feel like an identical exchange has occurred between Rose and Mom Lalonde.

@necrowyrm asked: In the past I thought of you as "thew" due to those being the letters I typed into Tumblr to search you. Recently, Tumblr has demanded an additional letter, so you are now "Thewe" (pronounced completely differently)

From thoo to thooie. It feels like I'm going through a Pokemon evolution!

Anonymous asked: You know that dream Dave talked about? Someone decided to illustrate it and GOODDAMN did they cook!

God damn, you were not kidding. This is such a macabre interpretation of the description he gave, and I love it.

@skelekingfeddy asked: ok im finally continuing with this quadrant ask series lol. i do think theres a side of propaganda to the quadrant system, despite what ive said about it. because even though its based around biological/evolutionary impulses…so is humanity’s concept of heteronormativity. the quadrants are a rather rigid, inflexible system, which is enforced by threat of DEATH. im willing to bet that, for example, certain trolls may feel only red attraction, or only black attraction, or only concupiscent attraction, or only conciliatory attraction, or zero quadrant-based attraction at all, or feel attraction completely outside of the quadrant system. the taboo against polyamory in one quadrant, like you’ve said several times already, is another flaw with the system. the quadrants system is predicated upon biology, sure, but so is cis/heteronormativity. i dunno, this is just my analysis of the quadrants xp idk if hussie was actually thinking about any of this when he was writing hs haha……

I pretty much agree with your take on quadrant propaganda.

In my opinion, any rigid framework of relationships - be it ours, Alternia's, or another - will inevitably fail to describe the full spectrum of possible relationship dynamics. Not every human is straight, gay or bi, and not every troll wants hearts, spades, clubs and diamonds.

Anonymous asked: wanna uh, put in my input on that kismessitude thread someone else sent to you. i disagree for a lot of spoilery reasons but mostly i just want to point out some things regarding a few specific assertions "jack and the queen's romance is tragic and meant to be compared to mom and dad, and the tragedy is unrelated to their romance" yes, mom and dad getting killed by jack noir is like, completely unrelated to their romance. they were literally just vibing and they got murked, would have been the same if it was a platonic hang out and they werent flirting at all. i buy that. we can't really compare that to jack noir and the queen, though, since jack kills the queen over the harlequin costuming. jacks and black queens are constantly attacking each other (over their several incarnations at this point i think they've lost like, 3 limbs between them and an eye. and of course jack killed her too in their like, third scene together). i just don't know how we're supposed to take that as 1. tragic given that a lot of the time it's played for slapstick comedy or "lol look at how much they hate each other" or 2. unrelated from their pitch romance. the dynamic of their pitch romance is them tormenting each other and in one case it ends with jack murdering the black queen. that's not equivalent to dad & mom. also, a few other points: i don't know how we're supposed to take the tavros & vriska stuff, because while they are definitely toxic, they seem to be pursuing each other in the RED quadrant, not in pitch… and it feels like the standards for toxicity are different there. also, something really important: eridan doesn't say anything about 'kismessitudes ending in death' in that conversation on page 2343. he says "CA: you could either play along as our auspistice and do a little mediating like you wwere fuckin hatched to CA: or wwatch she and me devvolvve into fuckin full fledged kismesisses the kind like you dont get once in ten thousand swweeps". the only mention of death here is in terms of COLLATERAL damage, not of them killing each other. eridan talks about killing all landdwellers (but not his friends, because theyre not like other girls i mean lowbloods! man the writing was on the wall with him). not about killing vriska. and this tracks way more with what alternia is like, for me personally- they don't care what two individuals do to each other, but when it begins to interfere with empire on a larger scale, then they would like a mechanism to break it up. ultimately, quadrants are something that WILL come up again in homestuck (spoilers, but i feel like that's obvious, lol. you have another what, 5000 pages?), so you'll get to form your own opinion on it. i just felt really baffled about the arguments because they… felt like they were missing contexts or taking leaps, so i thought i would weigh in. no hate to the other commentator! homestuck quadrant discussion is fun to me.

Interesting thoughts here, in response to a submission about quadrants from earlier in the year.

I don't think I'd ever personally call Jack/Black Queen 'tragic' - but I wouldn't use them as a model for troll kismessitude either way. They're a different species, so they're going to have different standards.

As for Vriska/Tavros…. to be honest, I don't think you could really quadrant them in a way that makes sense. Vriska hated Tavros too much for hearts, but didn't respect him enough for spades. As for Tavros, I don't think he's ever wanted anything to do with Vriska.

Anonymous asked: You might have noticed the unique Strife artstyle in this section of the story. These sprites were created by the art team for a Strife flash that never came to fruition. Now that you've seen the content that was made in place of that flash, I believe it's not a spoiler to send Hussie's commentary on his original plans. What are your thoughts on this alternate path and do you prefer the way the story was ultimately presented? What do you feel about his discussion of pros and cons? (1/2)

Sadly, I don't think we received the second half of this submission. I have been enjoying the artstyle of the recent arc - and if you resubmit Hussie's commentary on it, I'd love to take a look!

Anonymous asked: What mystical powers would the Dave of Guy title give a player? What insane abilities would the class of 'Dave' and the aspect of 'Guy' have?. ~DJ

David means beloved, and Guy is the name of a famous revolutionary.

Therefore, I believe the Dave of Guy would be 'beloved' by the very concept of disagreement, revolution and rebellion. In other words, the Aspect would always favor them, causing situations involving it to resolve in their favor.

If they argued against you, they'd win. If they fought against an institution, that institution would crumble. As long as they were fighting against some status quo, fate would smile on them.

Anonymous asked: If stuff about voice actors blows your mind, Casey Mongillo and Kira Buckland both got their start voicing Karkat and Vriska respectively in Youtube animations. Also "The idea of a work of fiction that subverts or wholly rejects the notion of ‘canon’ is pretty interesting, and on an academic level, it would be kind of cool to analyze it." Have you heard of this little show called Doctor Who? Because "there is no canon" is the position of the brand. I can elaborate on why if you're interested.

Oh, interesting! I was actually thinking about Doctor Who while answering that ask, because the idea of a story that stopped caring about its own lore was an unwelcome reminder of Moffat's era on the show.

I'd be really interested in hearing your thoughts on Doctor Who re: canon discourse, if you're willing to send!

Anonymous asked: i think you should talk about moffat

I was very tempted to compile a full essay summarizing my thoughts on Moffat, but I don't really have the time right now. Rest assured, some day I will absolutely go off on the Moffat era of Doctor Who - and let's not even talk about Sherlock.

@manorinthewoods asked: You may not be able to imagine Nepeta and Eridan being pals, but all the Erinep shippers certainly could. ~LOSS (15/12/24)

Please tell me their ship name is catfish.

@bladekindeyewear submitted: Now that the clock has “landed” on Just for Vriska, I wanted to talk a bit about how a WHILE back you pointed out Terezi’s coin flip as a crucial moment of morality… to me at the time, I believed that if any moment doomed her to a Just death, it was Vriska’s actions around that coin flip, that it was more important than just a narrative performance: Terezi was begging Vriska to leave even a SHRED OF CHANCE in the hands of the trolls to have her stay instead of leave, to give the other trolls even the last of a gambler’s luck of a collective say in whether or not she pursued this course of action that endangered them, and she stole it. Made it a constant across all timelines. I think that’s what crossed the last line of moral ambiguity, that she would not allow her friends a shred of agency over how reality unfolded… except to kill her. I felt THAT is what forced it to be Just, and that injustice is indeed perhaps a matter of trampling over the rights of others.

Perhaps, perhaps.

Mind you, I don't know if it's necessarily always a good or heroic thing to allow a Sburb Player full agency over their actions, nor is it necessarily a bad thing to restrict them, in certain cases.

If Eridan, for example, had been allowed to live his truth on the Veil, no lowblood would have made it out of there alive - and I wouldn't necessarily bet on the highbloods' survival, either. Kanaya was absolutely in the right when she cleaved his agency into two roughly equal pieces.

Vriska was definitely in the wrong when she rigged the coin, but I don't think it was because she didn't allow her friends agency - it was because she was going to get everyone killed. If Vriska had rigged a game against, say, Gamzee, and stopped his rampage as a result, she'd absolutely be doing something heroic, no matter now much she was trampling on his agency to do so.

@manorinthewoods asked: I am rereading my favorite HS fanfic, Like One Sundered Star, to research for Slurb (Sally Sburb), and I have determined that it may be viable liveblogging material, at least towards the second half. Unfortunately, it's image-poor, incredibly long, has a slow and almost a bit weak beginning, is less blog-dense, and also requires a different fanfic to be read first if you want to understand what happened at the start. ~LOSS (14/12/24)

That's the one that's as long as Worm, right? I'm definitely not saying no, but I also think I'd need a lot more free time to do it.

Plus, the lack of images, I think, would throw me off. That said, I did consider liveblogging Worm itself, back when I was reading it. I do think I could liveblog an entirely text-based story, but I'd probably have to rethink my approach.

@securitycapecreature asked: John kissed rose to save her live, same with jade kissing dave, karkats shipping chart is coming true before our very eyes

For a bisexual alien, his shipping is awfully straight, isn't it? I still think Rose/Jade makes much more sense than Rose/John.

@elkian asked: Game rec for Sally: I think you'd enjoy In Stars And Time, a tragicomic timeloop game. There's a handful of Homestuck references (including in the SASASAP artbook) and the humor+gameplay concepts are reminiscent of Undertale but it stands on its own. I'd actually strongly rec playing Start Again: A Prologue first, it's about 2-ish hours and sets the stage for ISAT. Both are really funny which I didn't expect from glancing at the promos so putting that there

I saw that one trending on Tumblr recently, and I'm a sucker for time travel stories. It's on the list!

Anonymous asked: Theres been fun discussion of the way homestuck uses the word play in meta gaming sense but noone's mentioned the word act yet have they? That's not a game word, that's an THEATER word. entire narrative of Homestuck is structured like a play script: it's separated into acts, narration is stage direction, all the dialogue is PLAYER DIALOGUE bc all the characters are actors playing their roles. and if you fuck up your role you get kicked out and REPLACED. exiles arent just npcs theyre STAGEHANDS

Ooh, I like these musings. It reminds me of how the Locked Tomb short story The Unwanted Guest plays with the idea of theatre as a metaphor. Taz Muir's Homestuck phase strikes again!

@bladekindeyewear asked: As we edge ever closer toward this Act’s inevitable conclusion, you asked if for a theory recap we could compile some of the DISPROVEN theories for you— and I’m sure we’ll find a good few to run by you for fun. Though the original Homestuck forums and threads are irrecoverable so much has been lost. But one of the things troubling me is this: Homestuck’s mysteries can be DEEP, leaving much implied. What about theories we formed at the time that were NEVER fully confirmed, might still be important, and which we shouldn’t even be implying to you whether there was any more evidence later because THAT would be a spoiler in and of itself? I think that’s what’s been getting me to hound you the most about opportunities to suggest more theories about stuff from past pages and thoughts we had SOLELY based on evidence we had AT THE TIME or earlier, because sometimes there may be shit amasses circumstantial evidence so many layers deep without EVER being confirmed, because as Andrew liked to put it, “Homestuck is a story that is also a puzzle”. And this onion has some deep effin’ layers we wouldn’t have even THOUGHT we might have reached without working together for years rereading this beast. If you’re still going about it solo, I thought at the end of this act you could use some of the keys we THOUGHT we found DURING this past act that we believed were finally unlocking deeper layers to squeeze twice as much juice or more out of every page.

See, the main problem here is that if a theory was never confirmed, then knowing about it sort of implicitly spoils parts of the comic. The more I know about what won't happen, the closer I get to knowing what will happen.

Therefore, I'm going to say 'not until much later on'. The kind of meta you're talking about would be absolutely fascinating to me, but I think it'd change my perception of the comic too much while I'm still liveblogging.

Anonymous asked: Jade on the page 3946 looks like those weird worms (worm on a string) :D

It's time to come off the string, Jadesprite. Release your true power!

Anonymous asked: You probably have a hundred of these by now, but at some point, those mini-side-story banners get hover-over Alt Text, so keep an eye out for that. Anonymous asked: don't forget to look at the top panels in this section :) rockernator2 asked: Don't know if anyone else has told you this, but there is (or is going to be) alt text on the upper pictures. Anonymous asked: make sure you keep an eye on what's happening at the top of the page! Anonymous asked: You've probably gotten at least one mention of this already, but if you haven't noticed it, it's worthwhile to look at the "banner" at the top of the page starting on page 3797. @bananonbinary asked: psst in true doc scratch fashion, the top panels actually have some alt-text if you hover the mouse over them. he's gotta make you work for it. @bananonbinary asked: oh dang oh shoot oh no thats not for a little bit yet i misremembered rip sorry Cat

[probably good to know early so you can watch out for it - C]

Noted! I just took a look back through the entire Scratch Sequence, and there's been no alt-text thus far. I have been worried about missing stuff in this sequence, given that there's so much going on.

@elkian asked: The Mendicant's Mauler Monologue took me the fuck OUT xD @metroid-fusion asked: hey sally the mailbox description joke was really really funny. youre good at homestuck

Something that is both normal to want, and possible to achieve!

I think PM herself would approve, too. She loves choosing violence.

Anonymous asked: "At some point, I'll have to check if any other lands feature musical symbolism." You mean like that giant record turntable thing in LoHaC? :P @sanctferum asked: "At some point, I’ll have to check if any other Lands feature musical symbolism." I don't remember if there's anything like that on LOFAF other than like, frog croaking (and what a musical genre that is! their albums are already sold out on whatever remains of Prospit, I'm sure), but boy does LOHAC not only have a giant CD, but one that's also the session's scratch construct. Dave's destiny must be to drop the sickest mixtape of all time, while trapping the pimp within his crib like it is hot. @wickedsick asked: "At some point, I'll have to check if any other Lands feature musical symbolism."

Yeah, it's definitely a possibility. (in all seriousness, Dave manipulates the stock market through time travel the way a DJ manipulates and mixes songs (represented through vinyls)?)

fucking LOL. This is what I get for liveblogging at 2am, I guess!

@garnetduodecim asked: Technically what doomed the time line wasn’t John dying, it was Dave prototyping Lil’Cal @bladekindeyewear asked: Doomed John said if he hadn't gone to see his Denizen, Dave(sprite) wouldn't go back and fix things so they could exist… but Dave THOUGHT John's death was why he needed to rewind. So what "doomed" the timeline before John even reached his denizen? One frightening possible answer: CALSPRITE. A prototyped Lil Cal wouldn't have been sent to Alternia in the wallet to be the base for Doc Scratch and guide their universe's creation. LIL CAL'S temporal necessity may have killed the timeline!

The order of events isn't entirely clear here, but you're right - Cal might very well have been prototyped before John flew through that Gate.

Future Dave immediately prevented both events when he travelled back, so it's impossible to say for sure - but I like this theory. That damn puppet is just... inescapable.

@pineapple-temporarily-moving asked: jsyk, you seem to have misinterpreted the line about trolls' eyes changing color when they grow up! only their irises change from gray to their blood color, their sclera do stay orange. mindfang is, indeed, old Anonymous asked: Trolls' /irises/ fill in with their blood pigment as they get older, not the orange part. Mindfang probably had blue eyes, we just don't generally get to see characters' irises. @abysswarlock asked: The eye color thing Vriska was saying was that the grey irises fill in with the troll’s blood pigment color, similar to how the kids iris colors match the color they type in @elkian asked: I always read Vriska's "fill in as we age" thing refer to the irises mentioned previously, but it's kind of just interpreted however. And Homestuck has so much symbolism and stylistic choices that it's not really clear lmao. @skelekingfeddy asked: im pretty sure the ‘eyes filling in with their blood color’ refers to their irises not their whole eyes

So no red-eyed Karkat?

0/10. Literally unreadable.

@krixwell asked: You mentioned in the ask compilation you just posted that the Aspects might operate on a meta level as well as a physical. You've already covered Void, but what do you make of the other Aspects through this lens? @heliotropopause asked: "Maybe Aspects can work on a meta level, as well as a literal one. Like, perhaps Void is the aspect of author uncertainty, […]" the meta level is honestly the most interesting aspect to aspects to me, and i'd love to see you have a go at it; there's definitely some analysis to be done there. @ariamaki asked: "Maybe Aspects can work on a meta level" AN IMPORTANT LESSON WAS LEARNED THIS DAY. I would love to hear your (current) thoughts as to what this would mean when expanded out to the other Aspects, because this is something I think about a lot.

So, this is a type of meta interpretation that I do like analyzing - but to be honest, I don't have many other meta interpretations for specific Aspects. Not yet, anyway.

That said, Sburb is essentially a story that forces itself on its Players, so it would be kind of cool if the Titles were part of that forced story, in some abstract way. I have started to wonder if Time and Space might represent plot and setting, respectively - but so far, that's only a half-baked idea. I'll definitely be returning to this idea in the future, when we've seen a little more of the other Aspects.

@galaxa-13 asked: "GT: my feathers are all ruffled, and i can no longer tell my ass apart from a big orange earth vegetable!" The joke here is "I can't tell my ass from [blank]" which is a pretty common saying when you're frustrated and confused. So John is basically saying "Oh yeah, you sure trolled me good! Because that's clearly what you're doing, trolling me. I am so ruffled!" Anonymous asked: For your information, an orange is not a "big orange earth VEGETABLE". Now, try and use your deductive skills to figure out what orange vegetable is being talked about. ~DJ

I know it was referencing a pumpkin, but I've honestly never heard that saying before. Perhaps it's a lot more popular in the US - or perhaps I'm just one of today's lucky 10'000.

Anonymous asked: Based on what you like about the comic (the same stuff I like) I doubt you would like any of the homestuck sequel/continuation stuff other than [one thing]. There's not much technical stuff, and I personally was really put off by the content of the sequels. I know some people like them but homestuck and it's sequels are very different types of stories. Anonymous asked: Regarding the epilogues (and Beyond Canon) to me, they feel like an interesting story - not necessarily things I would think the characters “would ‘actually’do”, but the themes about growing up, young adulthood, and friendships really resonated with me. A lot of the talk about “canonness” went over my head until it was pointed out to me, and I think that enhanced my enjoyment of it - I related to the story being told, and sort of regarded it as less what I thought would “really” happen and more an interesting idea telling me deep truths about myself. @manorinthewoods asked: To chime in on my view of the Epilogues - honestly, I think they are not particularly good, and until James Roach takes over 2 it's not particularly good either. I don't know whether I'd be sure in saying that reading them detracts from Homestuck, but I think I'd be comfortable saying that they are a continuation of what I feel to be a slow downward swing in quality after Act 5 - and an understandable one, given how Hussie must have been going through the mother of all burnout. ~LOSS (10/12/24)

Sounds about right. We had a bit of a chat about this on the Discord, and came to the conclusion that the tie-ins are probably going to be less appealing to me than the comic proper.

I'm going to default to a 'liveblog-lite' format for them, but reserve the right to do a deeper dive if I'm enjoying myself enough to warrant it!

Anonymous asked: In order to make 'Hostess' fit 8 letters, you'd have to use a typing quirk like Mindfang did with the Expatri8. As an example, the Condesce could have named her )(ostess, assuming that all ancestors share their typing quirks with their descendants. ~DJ Anonymous asked: If the main source for the Hostess' life is Mindfang, then yeah she'd probably have an 8 letter title. Otherwise, her title can be whatever number of letters you want. People do like sticking to the 8 letter rule for OCs, but compare - do real humans not often have given names with a different number of letters than 4, and surnames with a different number of letters than 6 or 7? Almost makes you question if all trolls really have 6/6 names.

Plus, the idea that Homestuck humans all have 6/7 letter surnames is a little weak anyway.

Four-letter first names might be a rule, but is a '6/7 letter surname' hypothesis really that much more likely than the hypothesis that there is no rule, and our four surnames are just between six and seven letters long by random chance?

@armchair-factotum asked: "Like, how does Rose’s chalk relate to bringing life back to her oceans? Did Hussie have different Quest in mind for her, back then?" Well, high concentrations of chalk in soil and water raises the pH, which might make it dificult for some plants and animals to live in? The "sand" on her island was all white and potentially made of chalk after all Anonymous asked: To elaborate on how the grist types/WV's items relate to the land quests: Oil is clogging the pipes that are integral to the salamanders' culture, preventing the Breeze from freely blowing through and delivering things, and the clouds trapping the fireflies are either smog from the oil or would normally be kept dispersed by the Breeze. Most of Rose's basic grist types (chalk, lime, marble) are forms of calcium carbonate, which is mostly formed through biological processes in the ocean, particularly through the accumulation of the shells of dead sea creatures like mollusks, corals, and foraminifera; chalk is formed from the skeletons of millions of dead plankton, and other forms of limestone also often contains fossils. Her beaches are the bleached bones of what once swam in the seas. Amber and rust are gumming up the gears of Dave's land, and the winter of Jade's land is implicitly a nuclear one. Last one is kind of ironically resolved by igniting a volcano, given sufficiently powerful eruptions can in theory create a similar winter effect. Not directly relevant, but I invite everyone to look up Verneshots, fun concept related to volcanoes and meteors. I feel like in the alternate Homestuck where the land quests are more explored, Hussie might have worked those in. Even less directly relevant, the term Siberian Trap(s) refers to both a volcanic event and a chess opening, which again I think could have been a fun Battlefield element in a story more focused on Sburb mechanics. @galaxa-13 asked: Rose's chalk related to her quest of bringing life to the ocean in that it was chalk that poisoned the water to begin with. By killing enemies and collecting the chalk grist as loot she was removing the poison.

I really like the implication that the chalk the Imps were dropping actually came from LOLAR's soil - almost like the Underlings themselves were born out of the ground.

And fuck, LOFAF's a nuclear winter! That's so good!

Anonymous asked: just want to take the time to HIGHLY recommend Homestuck Made This World ("a podcast about the critical analysis and contextualization of homestuck") its done by 2 media studies guys and its really great! they end up talking about doc scratch as one of an ongoing series of author figures, starting with the narrator of the comic (obvious), then dave (literally has a conversation that is an edited version of one of hussies chatlogs), bro (shares hussies interests + some anecdotal stuff related to smuppets (listen to the pod)), then hussie the self insert (an escalation of the narrator), and now doc scratch… (spoiler it keeps hapening) Anonymous asked: If you're into podcasts and people discussing Homestuck, you should at some point check out Homestuck Made this World. A podcast by two literature PHDs, one a long time Homestuck fan and one who's never read it before, discussing the comic a couple hundred pages at a time! They have a lot of great discussions, and the longtime fan also provides a lot of context for what was going on in the fandom at the time the pages originally posted.

Noted! I might listen along to it when I finally get around to rereading Homestuck. That's what I did with We've Got Worm.

Anonymous asked: i dont think anyones mentioned yet that the "hiding in an attic from bullies with a scary-ass wolf head" is also a never-ending story reference. Specifically in that thats literally the entire meta narrative the book was built around that the movie left out. the "puking on bullies" thing is also only in the movie and not in the book. Hussie Knows his references. @pages-in-movies asked: Congrats on hitting the milestone of being introduced to the main pillars of Homestuck: Jungian shadow, Gnosticism, The Never-ending Story, and the quote "nothing new under the sun"

At some point, I'm going to need to host a NeverEnding Story movie night. That, or Con Air.

[cognitiveoverload]

Craving (Aaron Hotchner x reader? Does it count?)

summary: Hotch shows up in your hotel room after the events of 2x19.

note: Kinda pathetic!Hotch if you ask me. Wants to be with reader despite still being married, but she says no.

After emotionally draining cases you’re usually a heavy sleeper, so no wonder you only wake up when the mattress dips in the hotel room you’re staying in. You jolt awake, eyes snapping open to see who got in the bed on the empty side next to you, and you’re shocked to see the man who wraps an arm around you as if it was the most natural thing, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Hotch, what are you doing here?” you ask, fighting the urge to bury your fingers into his hair to soothe him.

Because he’s clearly under the weather, and his warm breath smells like whisky as he rests his chin on your collar bone to look at you. “I don’t want to be alone,” he mutters.

There has always been tension between you, but he’s married, there was no way you would ever even think of giving into that feeling. Having him here, though, makes you wonder just how deep are his feelings for you. He’s not blackout drunk, he probably only drank like two glasses, but thanks to the vulnerable state of mind he was in earlier, it’s no surprise that it got the best of him.

“How did you even get in?” 

He lets out a sigh, then a small smile appears on his lips. “I have my methods,” he replies.

This sentence is followed by a soft sigh, but he remains silent for a minute or two, as if he’s contemplating how to say what’s on his mind. His thumb is rubbing circles into your arm, and while your brain knows you should stop him, you simply can’t get yourself to send him away. He doesn’t want to be alone, and there’s something he wants to talk about.

So, you wait. Rushing him wouldn’t help, and he’s stubborn enough to take his time opening up. Sometimes you wonder if he ever tells Haley about work stuff, or if he keeps it to himself since she has a lot on her plate already because of Jack. Either way, what happened earlier today definitely hit him where it hurt the most.

“It’s my fault,” he finally speaks up, his voice unusually quiet. You tilt your head to the side, urging him to explain. “I should have known, I should have gone there to see if I could help, now there’s a kid without a father and—”

You shook your head without thinking, a hand moving up to push his hair back. “It’s not your fault. You’re not a mind reader, Hotch, you couldn’t have known what he was planning,” you try.

“Aaron.” You let out a questioning hum, but he doesn’t answer, instead he moves a little to place a featherlight kiss on your exposed skin, followed by another, and another at an agonizingly slow pace. “Call me Aaron. I hate it that you call me Hotch too,” he mumbles against your skin.

“You’re my boss, I’m not calling you Aaron,” you point out.

“But we could be so much more than that. You mean so much more to me.” 

Before you can say anything, he moves just enough to be able to kiss you—a gentle, soft kiss that feels so good, but also forbidden. You cup his face, pushing him away just enough to look into his eyes. There’s a mixture of sadness and lust in there, but you know you can’t give in, you can’t let him win this one. 

Deciding that this is your best chance to set boundaries, you move past him as you sit up, watching the way he turns on his back with a groan. “For one, you’re my boss. And second, you’re married. Keep that in mind,” you warn him.

He loosens his tie and props on his elbows. “Yeah, right, a marriage that’s falling apart,” he notes bitterly. When you give him a questioning look, he goes on. “It seems like no matter how hard I try, I can’t be the husband she wants. This job is demanding, sure, but… I don’t know.”

“You need to sleep,” you tell him kindly, not having the heart to be harsh after what he just told you. 

This confession explains the phone calls that always left him grim, but you don’t feel like prying for more details. You know that he loves his family, what he just told you must have come from the desperation caused by the trouble at home and this recent case you just closed. It can’t be more than that.

Hotch opens his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything for now, he just watches you with an unreadable expression. “I’ll have to return to give the letter to Abby’s son. That’s the least I can do,” he suddenly says, lying back down, but he faces you. “Come with me.”

You take a deep breath as you watch him, but then you pick up your phone from the nightstand and put on the robe you left on the foot of the bed. “I’ll beg JJ to let me sleep in her room. Or I’ll take yours since you’re clearly planning to stay here,” you tell him. “I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

“Okay, fine,” he mumbles, his face already buried into the pillow your head rested on a few minutes ago.

[theemporium]

Oooh for your ‘stocking stuffers’: Nico + (the very obvious) city skating rink ⛸️

Also love that idea, so cute!

- ❄️

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“How have you not done this?”

Nico’s amusement was clear on his face as he looked at you. “This may come as a surprise but I don’t tend to think about skating outside of a rink since it’s my job.”

“Excuses,” you waved him off with the hand that wasn’t currently holding onto the edge. “You’ve lived here long enough to have the opportunity to go.” 

His grin widened. “Maybe I was waiting for the perfect person to go with.” 

“Ugh, that was cheesy,” you muttered but there was a smile on your lips too. “And people get engaged here.” 

Nico’s amusement only grew as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Is that why you brought me, schatz? Have you planned a Rockefeller proposal?” 

“In your dreams, Hischier.” 

Nico let himself laugh, unbothered by the few curious glances the two of you got from other members of the general public skating around the rink. He slid up beside you, looking at ease and relaxed in the skates, and it was only mildly infuriating.

“I have seen you skate before,” Nico pointed out, the countless family skate days coming to mind. “You don’t need to hold onto the edge.” 

“Yeah but there aren't usually this many people on the ice when I have skated before,” you confessed, your face heating up as you kept your eyes on the ice. “And usually Jack is there falling anyway so it takes away from anything embarrassing I do.”

Nico’s face softened. “I wouldn’t let you embarrass yourself.”

You lifted your head to shoot him a look. “The first time we went skating together, you left me at centre ice and skated around me in circles for, like, half an hour.” 

“First of all, it was barely five minutes,” Nico corrected, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Secondly, you are making that seem a lot more malicious than it was. You said you were feeling confident!”

“Not confident enough to be abandoned!” You retorted.

“I helped eventually,” he murmured, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips to seal the apology. “And we were alone then. I would never do anything like that here.”

“Obviously,” you scoffed, grinning at him. “You would have your captaincy revoked if that got out to the public. Jersey’s sweetheart captain abandoning his love in New York? Your reputation would tank, Hishcier.” 

Nico let out a boisterous laugh. “Leaving you all alone with the enemy? Imagine the scandal.” 

“That’s why I think you should hold my hand for the rest of the session,” you beamed, not even trying to be subtle with your intentions. “Just to make sure you don’t accidentally abandon me.”

“If you wanted something, you should have just asked, schatz,” Nico mused, happily taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers. “I could never say no to you.”

“Except when I asked for your help and you left me at centre ice for half an hour—”

“It was five minutes!”

.

[txrully]

hii can I request blue lock boys comforting their s/o thats on her period? (if your uncomfy w this than jst ignore it)

Thank you! 💕💕

YOU'RE MY COMFORT!

·˚ ༘ ꒱ summary when they comfort their s/o who's on her period

·˚ ༘ ꒱ characters isagi yoichi , bachira meguru , itoshi rin , nagi seishiro , mikage reo , chigiri hyoma , hiori yo , shidou ryusei , itoshi sae , michael kaiser , alexis ness

·˚ ༘ ꒱ warning fem!reader implied , lowercase intended

·˚ ༘ ꒱ a/n eeeek i took a kinda long hiatus after exams so sorry this was late- TT

·˚ ༘ ꒱ isagi yoichi

isagi would be so sweettttt. like he’s 100% the type to google how to make your girlfriend feel better on her period and then go overboard. he shows up at your door with snacks, a hot water bottle, and a look of absolute determination.

“babe, i got chocolate, tea, and this random teddy bear i found. will that help??”

he also tries to distract you with soccer highlights and ends up ranting about strategy while you just cuddle into him. lwk adorable.

"yoichi, i don’t need all this, i’m fine—"

"nope. it’s my job to make sure you’re 100% okay!"

"…you’re too much."

"too much in love with you? absolutely."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ bachira meguru

bachira treats your period like it’s an adventure. he calls it “battle week” and declares himself your knight in shining armor. he’s running around like a maniac, making you laugh so hard you forget the pain.

he also makes you random art to cheer you up. one time, he drew a stick figure comic of you fighting a “period dragon” with a sword made of chocolate. you almost cried laughing.

"meguru, what is this??"

"you slaying your period. literally."

"you’re so dumb… but i love it."

"mission accomplished!!!!! >:D "

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi rin

rin is… awkward. but he triessss. when you first tell him, he just blinks and goes, "okay. what do you need?" and when you say “nothing,” he goes into silent problem-solving mode.

he might not say much, but he’ll keep you company, bring you your favorite drinks, and make sure you’re comfortable. he’s like a walking checklist. it’s so sweet how seriously he takes it.

"rin, you don’t have to—"

"you said you have a headache, so i’m staying until it stops."

"you’re so stubborn-"

"you’re welcome."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ nagi seishiro

nagi is… so chill. you tell him you’re on your period, and he’s like, "oh. okay. do you wanna nap?" because in his mind, that fixes everything.

but the second you actually need something? he’s ( surprisingly ) up and moving faster than you thought possible. he’ll even let you steal his hoodie and hog all the blankets.

"sei, can you pass me the—"

"already got it. now come back to bed."

"why are you so good at this???"

"because i'm used to this by now."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ mikage reo

reo treats it like a high-stakes situation. he buys you EVERYTHING—snacks, heating pads, your favorite drinks, and even a blanket that looks like a giant burrito.

“what else do you need? should i call a doctor? a masseuse? build you a pillow fort?”

he’s over the top ( *cough* more than usual *cough* ), but it’s so sweet you can’t even be mad.

"reo, you don’t need to do all this—"

"yes, i do. you’re in pain, and i don’t like it."

"you’re insane."

"insanely in love with you, yep."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ chigiri hyoma

chigiri is so calm and collected about it. he’s like, “i got this.” he makes you tea, rubs your back, and lets you vent about how annoying it all is.

he also takes you on peaceful walks or sits with you by the window, brushing your hair and talking about random things to keep your mind off the cramps. it’s giving romance movie vibes.

"hyoma, you’re like�� weirdly good at this."

"i have a sister. i’ve trained for this moment."

"oh my god, of course you have."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ hiori yo

hiori is the gentlest bean. he’s like, “do you need anything? want me to get you soup? should we watch your favorite movie?” he’s so soft and accommodating, it’s almost ridiculous.

he also writes you little notes to cheer you up, like: “you’re stronger than cramps 💪 i believe in you!!”

"hiori, this note is so cheesy—"

"but did it make you smile?"

"…yeah, it did."

"then it worked. :D "

·˚ ༘ ꒱ shidou ryusei

shidou is chaotic as ever, but surprisingly… thoughtful? he shows up with junk food, a heating pad, and an attitude like, “let’s beat this period’s ass together.”

he’s also the type to jokingly pick a fight with your u t e r u s ( you read that right ), yelling things like: “how dare you hurt my girl?! square up, you coward!” it’s dumb, but it works.

"ryu, stop yelling at my uterus—"

"not until it apologizes."

"you’re so stupid."

"but you’re laughing, so i win."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi sae

sae is quietly attentive. he doesn’t say much, but he notices everything—like the way you hold your stomach or wince when you move. suddenly, you’ve got a hot water bottle and your favorite drink in your hand, no explanation needed.

he’ll sit with you in comfortable silence, scrolling on his phone until you’re ready to talk. it’s subtle, but you feel so cared for.

"sae, you didn’t have to get all this—"

"you’re in pain. of course i did."

"…thanks."

"don’t mention it."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ michael kaiser

kaiser is so dramatic about it. the second you tell him, he’s like, “mein gott, my poor love! what can i do?!” he acts like you're about to be taken from him.

but honestly? he’s surprisingly good at making you laugh and keeping your spirits up. he’ll even let you boss him around for the day.

"michael, stop being so dramatic—"

"i can’t help it! your pain is my pain!"

"you’re ridiculous."

"and you love me for it."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ alexis ness

ness is the sweetest little bean. he immediately offers to make you tea and snuggle on the couch with your favorite blanket. he’s like a human heater—so warm and comforting.

he also sends you texts like, “you’re doing amazing, sweetheart 💖 cramps don’t stand a chance against you!” pure angel.

"ness, you’re being so extra—"

"only because you deserve it!"

"you’re such a dork."

"your dork 🥰."

© txrully

copy/translate/plagiarize/repost my works in any way and i will be under your bed 🥰

likes + reblogs always appreciated <3

[im4rmy]

your first time together - jaemin (idol AU)

IMAGINE: he rents a room in a hotel to have a really nice dinner but your mind is somewhere else.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

• you sighed deeply to gain the strenght that seems to have left your body: you worked your ass off for 12 hours at the hospital where you were doing your specialization. but holy shit were you tired.

• you were used to long shifts, you loved your job and usually even 20 hours of work were easily manageable but today- even getting ready for your date with the most attractive man you ever met in your life was HARD.

• getting all dolled-up and choosing an outfit was one of your favourite activities and the idea of having a fancy dinner in an expensive hotel was great but your body was really struggling rn, in front of the location where jaemin was waiting for you.

• you took the elevator to reach the room jaemin texted you about and sighed again, getting ready to be charming and sexy for him. you liked him a lot tbh but of course you only had a few dates together and you were basically still strangers.

• jaemin opened the door of the room to welcome you in and the bright smile he gave you made your shoulders relax instantly. his presence was really comforting.

• "hi pretty" "hi jaemin, you look very handsome, as always"

• he laughed letting you in (to hide the butterflies that threatened to climb up through his throat) and taking your coat for you. "you're stunning, as always. i'm sorry, i know it looks very suspicious to have dinner in this room rather than the restaurant but-" "oh you don't need to explain, i saw the amount of people that are hanging in the hall. i like it here, it's more quiet"

• he smiled again and guided you to take a seat at the table. you looked around and- that wasn't just a room, it was a suite, with a living room and a kitchen and probably two or more bedrooms.

• the dinner was going on smoothly as always, he was funny and charming. you could listen to him talking all day long without getting tired, but tonight your body was failing you and your legs hurt so much it was distracting.

• "are you okay?"

• you looked up at him and smiled. "of course! um... what were you saying?"

• he didn't answer and looked at you unconvinced, but resumed his discourse nevertheless.

• "omg i'm sorry, hold on a second. i really need to-" you got up abruptly startling him and you shamelessly took off your black heels and exhaled loudly, letting your feet enjoy the freedom.

• jaemin looked at you with wide eyes, shocked by your sudden and weird change of character. you sighed and came back to your seat, giving another bite at your perfectly cooked steak. "you were talking about the shooting. what happened then?"

• he just stared at you for a while, starstrucked. then he tilted his head. "how many hours did you work today?"

• you blinked. "i told you" "i feel like you lied to me tho"

• you held his gaze for a bit, but then you collapsed on the chair and sighed in defeat. "twelve"

• jaemin's eyes widened. "WHAT?" he got on his feet immediately and walked around to stand behind you. when you feel his hands on your bare shoulders you flinch, but relax immediately after.

• "w-what are you doing?" "you need to rest, what the hell were you thinking? i would've never invited you here knowing how tired you are!"

• you know what he means but you decide to tease him, trying to focus while his hands massage your skin and above all... trying not to moan, for god sake. "are you saying that i'm not pretty enough when i'm tired?"

• he laughs loudly and you can't see him but you feel his gorgeous smile shining behind you. and when he leans forward to whisper directly in your ear, you swear your heart flips in excitement.

• "you're truly a menace... i should watch my mouth, don't i?"

• you want to answer but his said mouth finds its spot around your earlobe and every possible word dies in your throat. he continues his journey down your neck until his lips reach your shoulder. and you finally moan.

• "ah, here it is. i'm waiting to hear you like this since we met, baby" "you really need to watch your mouth, pretty boy"

• you grab his head and smash your lips together, he sighs in your mouth and caress your arms, savouring your soft skin with his fingertips. "you're exquisite"

• "you didn't even taste me yet" "omg can i?"

• you see him TREMBLE and the excitement dancing in his eyes makes your mouth and your core water. "help yourself, sweetie"

• he moans just thinking about it and gets on his knees instantly, settling between your legs. he caresses your thighs trying not to drool and he reaches immediately for your panties, taking them off and leaving you in only your short dress.

• he lifts up the hem of it and attacks your core like a starved man, starting to kiss and lick and suck right away. you moan and grab his perfectly styled hair in your fingers, pulling at it.

• "shit" "relax, let me hear your pretty voice"

• jaemin finds himself craving your moans and whimpers: you're very vocal and he happens to love it. but you'll soon find out that he... purrs. every time you touch him properly he purrs. he lets out such low and shameless growls that your thighs clench involuntarily.

• after a few minutes, you're sprawled on the first bed you found with his erection in your hand, his mouth sucking one of your breast and your bodies completely naked on each other.

• between a whimper and a moan, he speaks "you remember that night, when we first met?". you nod.

• "i said that i fell in love with you then. i wasn't lying. i'm in love with you, y/n. i fell on my knees like a dumb kid. you have me wrapped around your finger and i love everything about that"

• you smile and look at the way he's caressing your breasts while he's saying all of these things directly in your face and you're stroking his damn member. you're very sure that this man is one to keep close.

• "then make love to me"

• the look you both exchange is sweet and the kiss after that is the most awesome kiss you'll ever experience in your life. you're sure of that.

• and when your bodies fully interlock you feel your mind melting in the bliss of the moment: jaemin's skin is all over yours and his hands cherish your every curve and line.

• his movements are sharp and rhythmic but slow, he takes care in every gesture, every stroke, every thrust.

• you had sex with different men before (and you can tell he had women in his hands before too) and you enjoyed a lot of good sex, but this hits different: you never felt this intimate with someone, especially because this is your first time together! wtf? but your bodies feel so comfortable interwined together.

• him in you... his eyes looking at you adoringly and lost in all the sensations you're enjoying right now... his hands holding you tight... does it feel amazing? yes. does it feel exciting? yes. but above all... it feels right.

• you reach the climax when he presses your clit with his thumb without stopping his melliflous thrusts. and when your walls clench around him he curses under his breath and cums right away, riding your shared orgasm till the end.

• he sighs and throws himself next to you, pulling you towards him and letting you rest on his broad chest. when you hear his heart beating at an alarming pace you smile and caress his abs.

• "what if i call you every time i have a 12 hours shift?" "how often does that happen?" "every two days" "that's too little, i need to see you at least once a day"

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

masterlist

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

[kookochan]

End Of Time

They were dancing under the rain, knowing it wouldn't last forever. Memories were collected and hearts were stolen. Maybe it was never about the rain.

Summary: What if an exchange student changes your whole life, and you're scared of the day he needs to turn back? +18

 

 exchange student jungkook x fem!reader

 

warnings/content: violence (slap), mention of blood, sexual content (loss of virginity, unprotected sex - don't be stupid!), family issues, alcohol, angst, fluffy love TT

wc: 17,3k

 ˚₊✩‧₊2024˚₊✩‧₊

 

"We are really happy to have you guys here. The atmosphere in the team is also awesome!"

 

The interviewer has a soft smile while saying so. They have been sitting here for only ten minutes, and more than half of the time is already over. Her eyes turn to the more introverted person in the room.

 

"Jungkook, you are one of the best players this season. We talked about your career a lot, but you're the only one who isn't sharing his personal life. Like a relationship, for example. Or your first love!"

 

"Firstly, thank you for the compliment. And yeah, first love and all that-" he says with a polite smile. His mind is going back to a time when he met you for the first time. "I like to keep things in my own little world. That's why I'm not sharing a lot about it."

 

Jungkook is praying that the interviewer wouldn't ask any further questions. Today he is lucky, and the topic changes; all the attention goes to someone else. He is safe, and for a moment he is thinking back to the old times. 

 

˚₊✩‧₊2014˚₊✩‧₊

 

It was a Monday, and you hate the first day of the week. Today should be a little better than the other days because some of the new exchange students were coming. The teacher gave you the job to assist them on the first day. Her reasoning: You were the class representative. You don't know how you managed to be one, but you liked your job.

 

"Yn"

 

You turn around to see which of your annoying friends was calling for you, only to be met with Tae. "What do you want?! It's not even 9 a.m. Let me live!" You say annoyed that he caught you that early.

 

"Calm down, dude. I saw some of the exchange students already. Some of the ladies said one of them is hot. We're lucky to be with them on the first day. Do you have a plan for the day?" He informs you while walking to the class. You don't know how he managed to get all this information. He is always the last one to come to school. It looks like he is excited about the whole situation. You don't want to lie; you are also curious about the newbies. They will be in your class for only 6 months, but maybe you will have a chance to make new friends. The exchange students from last year were two girls who just came to bully others, so it was no fun. But this time it sounds like some of them are also good-looking? You need to check on that.

 

"Hmm, it would be a lie when I say I planned something. Isn't it too strict anyway? Let's just show them the school and eat together. That should be enough for the first day," you say while thinking of other options just in case he isn't agreeing with you. You turn to Tae to see if he has anything to say, but he just nods. "And did you really come here that early to get all the information?"

 

"Nah, I forgot my book and needed to do the homework. So I came a little earlier today. I can already feel the missing 2 hours of sleep," he makes a crying face. You roll your eyes and laugh. "Did you see Jiho or Jia?". "Nope."

 

—

 

"It's getting awkward standing here and waiting for them," Jia says with an annoyed noise. The whole class was waiting for the home teacher to come and introduce the new students. But the whole process was taking longer than expected.

 

After fifteen minutes, you could hear the teacher coming while talking to the students. She didn't introduce them but started talking about important things and the school. Your eyes wander to the two boys standing next to her. And yes, you do know who the girls were calling hot. You could feel his charm, and now the whole situation is more fun for you.

 

—

 

Jungkook is happy to be with you and your friend group. At first he was scared if he could make new friends, and if not, he would be depressed for six months. You guys were hanging out during the school day and sometimes after that. He is also happy that Eun could find friends. For him, Eun is also a nice friend, but he knows that they're opposite personalities. Anyway, the first four weeks were comfortable for him, so he hopes that the rest of the time will be like that too.

 

It was early in the morning, and he was walking to school. Looking around, he notices that you're walking to the subway station. He runs towards you. "Good morning. Caught you!". You jump a little, holding your chest. "Why are you coming like that?!" you point a finger at him. He only laughs at your cute attitude. "Oh, come on, why are you acting like you saw a monster or something? That breaks my heart," he says dramatically. You roll your eyes. "We are getting late, so hurry up!". You can see his pout when you make faster steps.

 

He is fast getting into the tram, and he is holding a seat for you too. You sit between him and the window—the seat he was reserving for you. He smiles and looks around. "Are you coming today? Tae asked to hang out near the beach and grab some beer in the group chat. I didn't see your reply."

 

"Oh, I saw the messages in the morning, so I couldn't reply. But yes, I am in."

 

"Okay, that's nice to hear!" he says while smiling. No, he doesn't know why he gets so giddy when you're around. He is throwing away all the complicated thoughts. He only knows you for like four weeks. He needs to calm down.

 

—

 

The school day was kind of stressful. You got your test results, way lower than expected. You did learn weeks before, and you were confident that you could make it. Okay, it would be a lie to say you would nail it because math is not your strongest subject. Knowing nothing will ever help you understand it makes you feel down. Now you're walking with your friends and Jungkook to the convenience store to grab some snacks and drinks. It feels suffocating; you would rather go home and, you don't know, learn more?

 

Jungkook can see the little cloud above your head, so he walks a little faster to get to you. You are in your own little bubble, not seeing him looking at you. He taps your head to gain your attention. "We are going to chill and not to a funeral." You stick out your tongue. "I thought it was your funeral. How lame". He tries not to laugh, but it just works for two seconds. "No, seriously, what's the matter?". You shrug. "Just math. I really am too stupid to understand that shit."

 

"Come on, man, you act like you need to be perfect! It's okay to fail one subject, and I can also help you a little. Tae asked me too, so we could make a learning group." He suggests kindly. You think about it a little, and then you simply nod. Now his smile goes even wider; you watch him for a while.

 

"Oh my God, finally we're here! I thought we would never make it!" says Tae while breathing like he did six marathons. You break the short eye contact with Jungkook and turn to your friends. "You are so dramatic. And don't get thousands of snacks like last time; we need to walk a little to the beach. I will let you carry them!" You just watch him run into the store without listening. Jungkook laughs about that and follows the others. Sometimes you can't believe how they are older than you. Okay, 1 year is not a big gap, but anyway.

 

After a little shopping tour and two more arguments with Tae, you are walking to the beach. The sun is slowly going down, and you like the vibe. You are lucky that no one had the energy to go that far on the beach, so it is quite enjoyable. Sitting down, you open up the beer, thinking about life. Everyone else looked also deep in thought. Maybe sometimes this is the best way to sort out your mind. When the sunset is almost over, Jiho sighed. "It's getting depressing. Let's go swim." Yeah, funny you thought, never ever. Of course, all the boys jump for the idea and are running towards the water. Your eyes linger a little longer on Jungkook's body. He is giving a show for real, the way he takes off his shirt and flexes his muscles.

 

Jungkook is aware of your gaze. For him, it's just a confirmation that you also do find him a little attractive. No? Is he delulu? Maybe! He enjoys the time playing in the water, but the wet jeans are giving him a hard time. After a quick check with the others, they come back to the spot where you and Jia were lying. Jungkook watches your figure, and he is wondering if you were asleep. He can't stop thinking about your emotions and the fact that a school subject is bothering you that much. Are you a perfectionist? You definitely don't look like one.

 

You could hear the movements next to you, so you open one eye to see what was happening. "Did you have fun?" you ask with a little smile on your face. "The water was a little cold, but besides that, it was fun. Do you want to go into the water too?" he asks while wiggling his eyebrows. You laugh at him, "No, it's too cold for that." His relaxed posture turns a little worried. "Are you cold?". You make a quick 'x' with your fingers.

 

"The boys and I are going to play basketball tomorrow in the late afternoon; do you want to come watch? Maybe we could go grab some lunch after," he suggests. Deep inside, he wants you to come, but you were taking a long time to answer. "Sure, why not? But I need to do some school stuff beforehand, so if I don't reach my goal, I will stay home." He rolls his eyes. "You need to go easier on yourself." You hum, and then you just watch the night sky. After a little hesitation, Jungkook lies next to you and watches the stars. It was comfortable.

 

You guys are sitting there for one more hour, and then you call it a night. Tae is the one who couldn't understand his limits with the alcohol, but it's nothing new. Jiho takes him home, and you bid goodbye to your friend Jia, who is living on the way to your house. Now you are alone, walking with Jungkook. There is a comfortable silence between you two. He is staying alone in a small apartment, but you know that there was a shorter route for him to go home. Anyway, it feels safer to have someone next to you, so you don't even ask him about it. When you reach your house, you turn fully to Jungkook. "Thank you for walking with me," you say. Jungkook acts surprised, "Naah, it's nothing. It's on my way home, so no big deal." You smile at that and wave him goodbye. He watches as you were walking the stairs. When he hears you entering the code and the closing door, he starts walking away.

 

The house is quiet. It looked like everyone was sleeping. And you are happy to finally get out of your shoes. Just in the moment where you open the shoe rack, you see your dad's shoes. You sigh. Yup, this will be a suffocating weekend; it is the only thing that you could think of. Walking to your room, you just pray that no one from your family, especially your dad, would bother you.

 

–

 

You are learning for like 5 hours, and you can feel the headache coming. Standing up, you walk to your bed and kneel down. A little box underneath is smiling at you, and you grab it. Going back to your desk, you open it to see all the sketches and drawings that you made. To free your mind, you used to paint something, and every time you're drawing, it feels like a dream. You wish you could become a famous artist who has done a lot of art. But deep down, you know the opinion of your parents. They were strict about your future. For them, you needed to become a doctor or a lawyer. Everything under that must be powerful as well, or you failed your whole life. Last time you had a conversation about going to an art school, you ended up with house arrest. That's also the reason why you need to hide everything related to that. With the knowledge that nobody is home, you start sketching.

 

You flinch with the phone ringing. The first reaction is hiding everything on your desk. You put everything in your box. After closing it, you put it back under your bed. The person who calls you cut the line. Getting your phone, you see that Jungkook was calling you. There is no way to explain the relief that you were feeling. Dropping on your knees, you almost cried. Why would you feel that way? How unfair it is that you have parents who are not supportive of you. The next thing you hear is something on your window. Turning your head, you scream in fear. Only to see Jungkook screaming too. You throw your phone on the bed and walk to the window, opening it. "What are you doing?!" you say while pulling him inside by his sleeve.

 

"Oh, hi pretty," he says with a grin. He can't be serious, right? You roll your eyes. "You scared me. Also, I have a door." He scoffs at you, "But it's not that dramatic! I'm here to go to the basketball game with you. You can't say no; I climbed up the window!". You look at him unimpressed. "I would also come with you when you just knocked on my door." He has a stupid smile on his face while saying, "So you would go everywhere with me without a doubt?"

 

You ignore his cheesy question and walk to your wardrobe. Opening it, you are thinking of what to wear. A black hoodie and some black jeans are a safe option. Jungkook is busy looking around your room. It was his first time being here. You had a minimalistic room with the colors of white, beige, and blue. Walking to the wall next to your desk, he looked at the pictures with your friends. "We never took a picture together. Let's do it today," he says. There was an old picture of you, and he takes a quick picture of it. 'Cute,' he thinks. Turning towards you, he sees that you are getting changed. He looks away; he didn't want to be a creep.

 

After changing, you both walk out of the house. The basketball court was not that far, so you agreed on walking. "Do you think I will win?" he asks. "I never saw you play, so it's hard to say. Tae is actually really good," you say. Jungkook laughs at you, "He lost all the games when we were playing. I'm just telling you so that you don't lose your bet." You think about it for a while: "Okay, I will trust you, but if I lose my money today, you owe me!". He just smiles. Is it normal for him to feel shy all of a sudden? He needs to win; there is no other option.

 

The match was almost over. Jungkook played with Jiho, and Tae asked a random dude to play with him, so it's fair. Unfortunately, it didn't change the results; they lost. Jia was the one taking a bet for him, so she cursed the shit out of him. While you run to Jungkook to celebrate his win. You both are holding each other's hands and spinning in circles. Yeah, you know you looked like two kids, but it was fun. "Omg, let's stop. I think I need to throw up," you scream at him. He stops immediately and laughs at you trying to balance. "I told you I would win!" he says. You smile at him. Wow, what is this feeling inside you?

 

All of you are sitting on the grass next to the court. The boys sipping water and Jia handing you the money she lost. You wave it a little in the air. The guy playing with Tae, Damien, stands up. "It was nice to meet you, but I need to go home. Maybe we could play someday again," he says while looking at everyone. "Yeah, sure, it was fun! Thank you for joining us," Tae says. Damien smiles at that and turns to you, "I would like to grab a coffee with you." You look up at him in confusion. He didn't expect an answer from you, so he gives you a piece of paper with his phone number on it. You take it with a little thank you. He walks away afterwards. Turning to your friends, you see Jungkook's eyes boring into your sides. The whole situation is forgotten as Jiho stands up and says, "Let's go eat. I will die".

 

Walking to the next ramen place, you notice how quiet Jungkook is. You poke his side. "What's wrong? You won a game, bro." Jungkook pouts at you and asks, "Why did you accept his number?". "I accept it from every guy because I'm too scared of their reaction when I don't accept it. Maybe they would curse me out or follow me home? So creepy," you say with a sincere tone. He looks into your eyes. "I'm sorry that you feel that way. So are you interested in meeting him?". He is playing with his lip piercing; why is he getting so nervous? "Nope, he was not my type," you say with a grin. "But why are you asking and sulking about it anyway? Wait, are you jealous?" you ask while laughing. Yup, he feels a burn on his face. You pinch his cheeks, "So cute." Jungkook wants to fall on his knees and cry. But he acts annoyed, saying, "Fuck off," and wishing you would never do that.

 

–

 

2 months later...

 

Your head is on the table. Jungkook, Tae, and you were learning at the cafe for over 6 hours. You understand more than before, but your head was seconds away from exploding. Tae is in better condition. "I told you to drink more soju. Look at me; I feel like a newborn," he says. You whine at that, "Shut up, please." Jungkook comes back to the table with a tray in his hand. He ordered some ramen and vegetables. Sitting next to you, he strokes your hair. "Come on, eat your food, and you will feel better," he says softly. You sit up looking at the food; you don't feel like eating. Until something is next to your mouth, you turn to Jungkook, who is holding broccoli in his chopsticks for you to eat. You pout and eat it. "Hmm, yummy, right?" he says in awe. You really liked it, so you nod while starting to eat. Turning to him, you see him eat with the same chopsticks that you ate from. That makes you smile. And of course he caught that.

 

Jungkook is happy that you finished your bowl. Now they are waiting for you to come back from the bathroom. He carefully packs some of your belongings into your bag. Tae is watching him the whole time. "I am worried about you," he says. Jungkook looks at him confused. "You know what I mean. Your feelings with Yn," says Tae while looking into his eyes. If there was a chance for Jungkook to flee, he would. But Tae didn't expect an answer or explanation. "I don't want you to get hurt. If you need to talk about it, I will listen," he simply says. Jungkook is shocked but also thankful that he gave him the option to open up or not. He returns Tae's smile.

 

"Why are you flirting?" you say, looking at both of them. Tae acts like putting a strand of hair behind his ear. "Oh my God, we will go on a date tomorrow!". You laugh, but the fact that Jungkook is too stunned to speak made it even funnier. Jungkook shakes his head and gives you your bag. "Come on, let's go." "Wait, why are you blushing?" you ask. That is the last straw for you and Tae to laugh like fools. Jungkook makes a quick 'tsk' before leaving. You are in tears.

 

Tae is the first one to get off the tram, bidding both of you a good night. You wave at him. Some minutes later, it is yours and Jungkook's turn to get off. While walking home, you intentionally bump into Jungkook's side. "Are you mad at my comment?" you ask. Jungkook chuckled at that. "No, all good. I know you were jealous," he says. "Woah, you're really delulu," you say dramatically. "Thank you for today, by the way. I did understand a lot. You're really good at explaining!" you add. He smiles and pokes your cheek. "No need to thank me. We can do it more often, but not that intensely. I thought you would die." You stick out your tongue.

 

"Omg, Jungkook! Look," you say, kneeling down. You start petting the black cat. It is fluffy and super soft. Jungkook takes a picture of you where you are petting the cat. "I want two cats when I move out!" you say, excited. He wants to cuddle with you and the cat. "So you're a cat person. How cute," he says, smiling. "Thank God this one has a home. Look, it has a collar," you say while turning to him. "Maybe it is on his way home," he thinks out loud. You stand up and watch the cat go. "It was so cute, I want to cry," you say, head hanging. He wants to remember this moment forever. Your interaction with the cat, your pout, and your small voice. If he were to die right now, he would be happy.

 

Walking up the stairs, you see Jungkook standing at the same spot. "Why aren't you going home?" you ask, looking down. "I will wait until you're inside," he says, shrugging. You wave at him for the last time before your door closes behind you. Jungkook walks in the direction of his house but changes his mind. Turning around, he is walking to the next supermarket.

 

It is suspiciously quiet in your house. After hanging your jacket and putting on your slippers, you walk towards your room. The TV is turned on, but nobody is sitting in front of it. You feel your heart beating faster when you see your open door. Trying to think positively about it, you walk in. Your room looks like a mess. Everything is shattered, and your mother is in a panic. "What is going on here?" you ask quietly. Only when your father turns around do you see your drawings in his hands. Your bag choosing his own fate by rolling down your arm. There are no words to say. Looking into his eyes, you can see the anger.

 

"What's all of this?" he asks while shouting. "I told you that I'm interested in art. I just sketch or paint when I need to relax," you try to reason. It will not help; they will never understand you. You don't know which part of your answer made him explode, but in seconds he starts ripping all of the papers. "How stupid of me to think that you grew up! Doing this shit instead of studying! Where are the other things? Tell me!" he screams and walks around the room. Your knees give up, and sitting on the floor, you start crying. Taking some pieces of your art while he is destroying everything in your room. Your eyes wander to the open door, your sister standing in the hall with a bowl full of cherries. She is enjoying this. "Look at your sister! She is working hard to get somewhere, and you! How can you be that stupid?" says your mother. Just as angry as your dad. You want to scream, to throw a tantrum, but everything cut off your air. How could this happen? Your dad comes up to you, forcing you to stand up. "You will tell me where all of your stuff is," he yells in your face. "I did nothing wrong," you sob. It's unfair, you want to say. But your head is like under water. Too many thoughts, but no voice. "How dare you talk back to me?" he asks. The next thing you could feel is a burn and pain in your cheek. He slapped you. You could feel the metallic taste in your mouth. For a second, everyone is shocked. But who would he be when he apologized? Instead, he grabs your arm and walks towards the door. "If you don't want to live with our rules, then you can go live elsewhere," he screams. The door shuts in front of your face.

 

You stand there for a while. Your mother or sister would open the door for you, right? But after minutes that felt like hours, you turn around. They will not open the door. Walking down the stairs, you feel empty. By the time it started raining, you looked down. You are wearing some slippers and have no jacket. In your hands are some pieces of paper that you called art. There is nothing in your mind; you just start walking. The rain is fast in soaking you wet. Near a park, you see a bench. No time to think about it more; you sit down. You look down at the pieces of paper and at the bloodstains caused by the rain that is rinsing your face. Empty was the definition of what you are feeling. The cold air makes it worse than it is. You pull your knees to your chest and bury your face on top of them. Crying felt more painful than before. Also, you are scared that some creep would come near, but you have no energy to move.

 

Jungkook hates his decision to go grab some things from the supermarket. He was at the supermarket, but not only there; he also made a stop at the bookstore. He bought two new books and was ready to gift you one. Walking back home, he curses at himself for not getting an umbrella. Near the park, he sees a girl sitting on a bench. He looks at her and wonders why she would be sitting in the rain with only a shirt and slippers. At the same time, you look up at the noise of footsteps. The last person you both expected to see was each other. Jungkook looks at your face; the first thing he notices is the cut in your lip. That was enough for him to run towards you. Kneeling down on the ground, he holds your face with both hands.

 

"What happened?" he asks while being consumed by angst. Your small hands hold his wrists. You couldn't answer his question; you are sobbing and shaking from the cold. He starts taking off his jacket and helps you put it on. "Do you want to go home?" he asks while stroking your hair. Jungkook never experienced something like that. He wants to kill everyone who was the reason for your situation. Also, he doesn't want to hurt you more, but he is scared. Scared of the reason you were in this situation. "I can't go home," you say, trying to wipe away your tears. "Let's go to my house," he asks. Unsure if he would scare you away. But you only nod. He turns around. "Piggyback," he says, and waits. You position yourself, and he stands up to walk to his house.

 

After a quick walk, he gets into the house. Letting you down carefully, he walks to his room to get you some dry clothes. When he comes back, you already start changing. You smile at his oversized black shirt and sleeping shorts. Getting the white socks, you start laughing. Jungkook turned to you while making tea. "You really wear toe socks?" you ask cutely. He smiled, "They're really comfortable!". It was weird wearing those, but you felt comfortable. He comes back with two cups, giving you one. "Thank you," you say, taking a sip. "I will go change quickly, okay?" he asks. You nod, drinking from your tea. You feel warmed up, but you know that you will have a cold tomorrow. Jungkook comes back wearing similar clothes as you. He smiles at you and gives you a blanket. Leaving once again to get the first aid kit.

 

Hugging the blanket, you turn to him. "I had an argument with my family," you say. He sits next to you, listening carefully. "You know, I wanted to go to an art school. I love drawing and everything about art. My family was against it. They want me to become something high. Don't ask me why they think being an artist is low or bad. Anyway, the first time we had that argument, like two years ago, I had house arrest. And yes, I am stubborn, and I didn't stop drawing. Today they found my box with all the sketches. My father turned red. He ripped them into pieces, and when I told him that I hadn't made a mistake, he slapped me. Oh, and he threw me out. " You could feel a tear escaping from your eye. Jungkook is quick; he pads the tear away with a broken smile. "I mean, they are my family. Why can't they accept me with my interests and opinions? Is it that wrong to have dreams? I don't get it; I just want to be loved. Is that too much to ask for?" Your voice sounds whiny. You lean your head against the armrest and cry. "You don't need to question yourself. Of course, it is normal to have expectations of your parents. It's their fault if they're not supporting you. And I know maybe it's easier to say than to do, but you shouldn't give up on your dreams because of them. You're a person who can decide what to do with your own life," he says while playing with your hair. You turn your head to look at him. "Thank you for being with me. I really appreciate it." He smiles at that. "No need to thank me. I will always support you." You sigh and say, "Jungkook, you're leaving in three months. It makes me more sad." Jungkook doesn't want to think about it. "Come here. Let's clean your wound first and then blow-dry your hair," he just says. He is gentle while cleaning your wound, and he also helps you blow-dry your hair.

 

"Do you feel a little better?" he asks, watching the way you look around. You hum, "I like your home! You put a lot of effort into it." Jungkook smiles at your voice. "Thank you," he says. You come back to him, sitting next to him. Awfully cute, he thinks. You know it will make everything more complicated, but you cuddled up to him and closed your eyes. He welcomes you into his arms. Playing with your hair to make you fall asleep. He couldn't help thinking about your family. It makes him so angry to know that they were treating you like that. He wished he could protect you from everyone.

 

–

 

The next morning feels worse than the last night. A headache is bothering you, and you are freezing. You get up from your lying position, looking around. Last night you fell asleep on the couch, and now you're lying on the bed. Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. Standing up, you walk to the living room, which also has the kitchen built in. Opening the door, you can smell some delicious food. Jungkook is cooking something and looks really serious in the process.

 

"Good morning," you say, pouting at your own voice. Jungkook smiles at you, "Good morning. You did catch a cold, right? Poor baby, come here; I cooked some soup." You walk to the table and sit down. "It's so cold," you say while holding the bowl he was giving you. He sits in front of you. "I hope the soup will warm you up a bit," he adds. For the record, the soup looks delicious and smells like a dream. Without a doubt, you eat it up.

 

"They asked about us in the group chat, and I told them that you're sick," he says after eating up as well. Only now do you realize that your phone is in your bag at home. Also, it was Monday. Monday is a school day. Your mouth hangs open now. "Oh my god, I totally forgot about school. Why are you here? You should go," you say, frowning. He simply looks at you disgustingly. "You really thought I would leave like this?". You shrug. Jungkook stands up to clean the table and starts to hum a song. That is a good moment for you to go to the bathroom and wash up. Peeking out of the bathroom, you ask him, "Is it okay for you when I take a quick shower?". He turns to look at you. "Yes, of course. In the closet, you can find some fresh towels."

 

After a quick shower, you come out to find him lying on the couch. You lay down, your head next to his stomach. Thinking about what you want to do. You can't stay here forever; your family will look for you. "I will go home later," you say quietly. He is watching you the whole time. "Are you sure? You can stay here as long as you want," he says, stopping his hand to find your hair. "Thank you for letting me stay. But I need to talk to them someday. Maybe I can move out?" You look up in his direction. "Yeah, maybe that's the best for you and your family. Maybe you need some time alone without them. But are you really going to change your dreams?" he asks hesitantly. "I don't know. I want to become an artist so bad," you say, feeling the urge to cry. "Look, my parents want me to become something important too. But I want to be a basketball player. I will do everything to make it," he says, smiling. "You sit up and show your pinky finger. "Let's make a promise. I will become an artist, and you will be a professional basketball player." He shows his pinky finger too and says, "Promise." So you make a pinky promise. He wants to hold your hand forever.

 

The knocking on the door made both of your heads look in the direction. Your fingers are no longer in a hug. "Aaah, I forgot to tell you that the others wanted to come over. After hearing that you're sick," Jungkook says while smiling with his teeth, He stands up to open the door, and the first one running in is Tae. "Yn, I missed you so much! Are you feeling better?" he asks you right away. You laugh at his words. "I missed you too! And yes, I feel a lot better." Jia puts some snacks on the table, and Jiho's eyes are going between you and Jungkook. "Jiho, no need to look like that. It's not just me having a cold. I had an argument with my parents," you say, knowing he would state some stupid shit. All of them sit down to listen to you.

 

After telling them the whole story without the part when your father slapped you because you're too embarrassed, they looked sad and angry at the same time. "Girl, you're really talented, and I don't think you should give up because of them," Jia says. Jiho and Tae quickly agree. "You can talk to them, and if they don't listen, their loss. We can organize a small apartment to live in." Tae suggests. "I don't know about that. I want to move out, but no money, dude," you say, trying to be realistic. "We can be roommates if you want. Those dorms will let us in, right?" Jia says hopefully. You nod. "You're right; we could try that. But don't feel like you need to do that. I can move in with some random girl." Jia rolls her eyes. "Come on, you know I hate living with my brothers. I was thinking about moving out too." You give her a flying kiss. "You know we can send your dad sketches as a letter," Tae says, like he had the best idea in the world. All of you started laughing. "He would kill us," you say while laughing. "Thank you for being my friends," you say after a while. Is it normal that Jungkook is hearing the word 'friends' echoed?

 

–

 

Jungkook is walking you home. He wished you could stay a little longer, but he knows that you need to talk to them. Back at Jungkook's place, you guys did some research about a dorm and the chances of a room in the middle of the school year. Luck was never on your side. The next free room was at the end of the year. So you wanted to talk to your parents about it and spend the rest of the school year at home until you can move to the dorm. In front of your house, Jungkook turns to you and says, "If anything happens, you just need to look out of your window. I will wait here a bit." You don't know what to say. He is caring a lot for you, and you don't know what to think about the meaning behind it. It's just that you feel special when he talks to you. "Thank you. I will inform you about everything. Don't worry!" you say while walking up the stairs. Jungkook walks over to stand under your window. He would burn the house down if your father tried to hurt you again.

 

You knock on the door, already hearing some steps. The door is opened by your sister. "So you came back," she says, trying to provoke you. The funniest girl, you thought. You walk in, knowing your parents would sit in the living room. Your mother is the first one to notice your presence. "There you are! I know you would come and apologize to your father," she says, a little too happy. You can't control your laughter. "No, I'm not here to apologize, mother. I just came back because I live here. And I don't want to live like you want me to. If you don't like my decisions and dreams, it's your problem. I can live with the fact that you will never support me. If you want, you can act like I died and whatever. I will move out at the end of the school year anyway and will live for my dreams."

 

The room is silent for a while. Your father turns to you and says, "I knew you would never become someone big. It was my fault for not seeing how stupid you are. Do whatever you want! At the end, you will come and beg me to help you out. And on that day I will laugh in your face. Just wait for it. Oh, and I will count the days until you're out of this house. You can go find a husband or a dorm; I don't care anymore," he says, venom in his voice. He really thinks he won? It is a win for you.

 

Turning back to your room, you look out of your window. Jungkook is standing there with a straight face. You quickly grab your phone from your bag and take a picture.

 

YN: Someone is watching me -.-

You see him looking around.

Kook: There is no one?

YN: [picture send] Looook :(

Jungkook looks up.

Kook: Omg, he is so good-looking 😍

You laugh at that.

YN: Jokes aside, I'm good. You can go home🙂‍↕️

Kook: Want to talk about it?

YN: Let's Facetime while u walk home

 

You quickly call him on FaceTime. Letting him stay on your desk while you try to fix your room. You tell him everything you and your father said. "I'm proud of you that you told him right away," he says while watching you move around. "Thanks. Can you see my room? It's such a mess. What was his intention, man?" you ask him while standing in the middle of it. Not knowing where to start. He is actually sad seeing your room in that condition. The last time he came, it was calming. "Yeah, I can help you tomorrow if you want," he suggests. "Nah, no need; I will throw away the stuff," you say. He watches you throw a lot of stuff into a plastic bag the same size as you.

 

Jungkook is already home, but you are in the flow of cleaning up, so he starts to clean up too. When both of you are done, it is already 2 am. You lay down on your bed with your phone. It didn't last long until you fell asleep. Jungkook comes back to his phone after realizing that you're not answering. He sees you sleeping and smiles. Okay, he takes a screenshot. Wishing you a good night, he hung up.

 

–

 

2 months later...

 

The time passed quickly. Now there are only four weeks left until Jungkook is returning home. You spent all day together, sometimes just the two of you, other times with your friends. Not only Tae, but all of your friends could see that Jungkook had obvious feelings for you. You were good at hiding what you felt.

 

It is almost 11 p.m., and you are working on your sketch. To be honest, you have been working on this one for weeks. You want to give it to Jungkook as a gift. It was a portrait of him wearing his favorite basketball team's jersey. The number '97' on the front side. The cozy mood in your room shifted when you heard your phone ringing. You sigh and pick up. "What do you want, Tae?". "Yn, could you come and pick us up? We are soooo full of drinks that it is cra-," he says while burping at the end. "Who are we?" you ask. You could hear the music in the back.

 

"Me and Jungkook silly," he says, laughing. Did you hear him right? Jungkook never told you about going out tonight. "Send me your location," you say, not waiting for a response. You hang up. You change into a pair of jeans and a tight black top. Getting your purse, you walk out of the house. Walking to the next taxi point, you check out the location. Fortunately, it was not that far away.

 

You step out of the car and walk into the location. It is a really crowded bar. You should wear something else and dance a little. Walking through the people with a small 'excuse me,' you give your best looking for them. In one corner, you see both of them with pretty girls around. Oh, okay, someone has fun; you thought watching Jungkook. He feels a burning stare on his face and immediately turns in your direction. You never saw him that drunk. He is waving at you with puppy eyes and a big smile. For a minute, you feel like a sky full of stars. You walk to them to stand in front of the table. Tapping your feet on the floor, you say, "What is going on here?" Tae gets scared and stops talking to the girl next to him. "It was so boring without you," Jungkook says, trying to reach your hand. Cute, you thought. The girls are not that happy about your arrival. You turn to one of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to take them home." Surprisingly, she is kind and left with the other girls. "And you both! Follow me," you say, trying to look dangerous. You walk to the door, and after looking over your shoulder, you see that they are following you with their heads down. Oh, you totally feel like their mother.

 

Outside, you look at both of them. "Let's wait here for a taxi," you say. Then you decide to bring both of them to a wall on which they could lean. They are drunk as fuck. And of course there are no taxis around. You sigh in annoyance. "Can you both walk? There is no taxi; all are full. Maybe we could grab a coffee somewhere and go with a bus?" you suggest. "I'm fine; let's go," Jungkook says with a smirk. You want to rip that out of his face because you're melting. You stand in the middle of both, Tae holding one of your arms and Jungkook acting like he is totally fine. You guys start to walk down the street.

 

After ten minutes, you see an open cafe. You turn to Jungkook, "I will grab some coffee. Stay here with Tae, okay? You guys can also sit down on the sidewalk," you say. He nods his head, watching you walk in. "Look at those; they are laughing at us," Tae says while looking at a group of men. Jungkook looks in their direction. The group of men stopped talking and turned fully to them. "What are you looking at?" one of them says. "You're laughing at us!" Tae says. All of the men start laughing. "Come on, stupid boy, turn around. Your ugly face is giving me a hard time," another man says. "Who are you calling ugly?" Jungkook says, walking in the direction. At this moment, you walk out with two coffee cups in your hand. You are shocked to see that some of the men are walking towards Jungkook and that Jungkook and Tae are walking to the men. "You little shit, I will fuck you up," the man says. That is a clear signal for you to cut in.

 

"I'm so sorry, please stop this," you say while walking to Tae. Jungkook gives you a side eye. Not liking the fact that you apologized. "Go to the side, lady, if you don't want to get hurt," the shorter man says. "Who are you to talk to her like that?" Tae says. Jungkook was ready to throw a punch. You watch all the men standing there. There are five people, and you would count Jungkook and Tae as one person due to the fact that they were drunk. Without thinking much, you throw both of the coffee cups in the direction of the men. A loud gasp is heard from them. The coffee was hot. You turn to Jungkook and Tae and scream, "Run!".

 

You never ran away like this. The group of men is hot on your tracks. You feel like passing out at any moment. The energy is leaving your body. Jungkook notices that and holds your hand to pull you with him. After a run into small alleys, you stop. They lost you. Jungkook leans on the wall. Tae is sitting on the floor, and you are holding your knees. All of you needed a moment to catch your breath. When you look at both of them, you start laughing. It is so loud that an old woman opened her window to yell at you. With that, you walk away.

 

On your way, you finally found a taxi. Firstly, you made a stop at Tae's house. You help him get inside. Returning to the taxi, you give Jungkook's address. He is leaning against the window with a big smile. You look at him in question. "Are you mad at me?" he asks. He stopped smiling and looked like he was seconds away from crying. "Why should I?" you ask back. "I didn't know that he wanted to go to a bar. I would tell you. You know that, right?" He reaches for your hand. Now he is playing with your fingers. "Don't worry, I know you would tell me. I was just a little shocked," you say while smiling at him.

 

The car stops in front of his house, so you head out and help him get into the house. He sits down on the couch, and you help him get out of his shoes. "Next time when you go to a bar, you shouldn't drink that much. You both did! What would you do if nobody could get you?" you scold him. "I swear I said just one glass, and then he said, don't be a pussycat; drink more," Jungkook says. You look at him annoyed, "Wow, so smart of you." After helping him take off his shirt, you ask, "What were you guys talking about with the girls?". He scrunches his nose and replies, "Nothing; they were bubbling. Why are you asking?". You hum and toss the clean shirt in his face. "Ouch!" he says, still catching it. "Oh, sorry, I thought you saw me throwing it," you say. "Noooo, you're jealous!" he says after putting the shirt on. He quickly changes his jeans into black jogging pants. "I'm not jealous," you say. "I don't believe you! Don't worry, baby, you will be my number one forever," he says while wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh, shut up. Come on, go do your nightly routine, and then go sleep," you say after tossing the clothes that he took off into the laundry basket. "But you will stay here, right?" he asks with puppy eyes. You nod and smile at him.

 

After his nightly routine, Jungkook went to bed and fell asleep in the same second his head touched the pillow. You watch him from the doorframe. A little sad about the fact that he is leaving soon. You wish he would stay forever. Also, you do know that you two had a different bond than with the others. But nothing precious like this lasts forever, right?

 

–

 

It was early in the morning, and you were standing in Jungkook's kitchen. You were never good at cooking, but today you want to top your own skills. Tasting the soup, you scrunch your face. Yeah, you should do a favor for everyone and never cook again. You add some seasoning to make it more tasty. It is weird to feel that much like it's your own home. The thought of this ending soon makes you sad.

 

You are in your thoughts when Jungkook comes out of his room, his feet sweeping the whole floor. You turn around and watch his tired face until he looks up to meet you. He immediately starts smiling, "I thought you left." You gasp, "I was cooking for you! Come eat some, and then you can take some painkillers," you add. Jungkook rushes to his chair and starts eating. "You don't want to eat?" he asks you. You just shook your head. "Nope, I will meet Jia later. We have a girls date." He nods. Watching him eat was enough for you to light up your mood.

 

"Why did Tae want to go to a bar?" you ask while cleaning the space you used for cooking. He is done with eating. "I don't know; he told me he felt like it," he answers. It would be a lie if he said that he is not scared of your opinion about him now. The last thing he wants is for you to get a false impression of him. You walk towards him and hand him the painkillers with a glass of water. He gives you a flying kiss and swallows. "I need to go now. You can rest a bit," you suggest. Jungkook looks at you with puppy eyes. "Have fun," he says. You waved at him and left the apartment.

 

After doing his morning routine, Jungkook sits down with a paper and a pen. If anyone were to tell him that he was going to write a letter, he would definitely laugh at that. But no, it was the truth. He was shy to say the thoughts he had in his head, and he was a better writer. So why not write a letter about his feelings? He starts writing, and it got longer than he expected. After some hours, he finishes writing and looks around. Of course he needed to rewrite the letter over and over again. So he stands up and throws the scattered papers away. On his way back, he gets an envelope to put his letter in. Will he ever be able to give it to you?

 

–

 

11:30 PM

 

Jungkook wakes up from his sleep. His phone is vibrating the whole time. He doesn't know when he fell asleep. Sitting up, he gets his phone and sees missed calls and messages from you. He feels nervous scrolling through the messages.

 

Yn: I think I'm in trouble?!?!?!

Yn: Could you maybe pick us up?

Yn: I guess you're asleep. Sorry for disturbing.

 

He didn't waste more time reading all of your messages; instead, he called you right away. It took you longer to answer, and he didn't even realize that he was holding his breath. "Omg, Jungkook?!" you ask, out of breath. "What happened? Are you okay? I fell asleep, so I didn't see your messages," he asks. You sigh and add, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. We got in trouble with some guys. We're at the hospital right now. But we're okay! Jiho is on the way." Jungkook stands up and walks to the door. "I'm coming," he says while rushing down the stairs. You could hear him running.

 

"Thank you for coming, Jiho," Jia says. You could see that she was tired. "Jiho, could you bring her home? I will walk; it's not that far," you ask him. "Is Jungkook coming?" he asks back. "Yes, he was on his way. I will walk with him; don't worry," you say and wave at them. At the same time, you see Jungkook rushing towards you. You try to smile because you know he would scold you a little.

 

"Omg, what happened?" he asks right away. "Good night to you too," you say, half joking. You pull him with you while walking home. "We just had an argument with some dudes. They were bullying a young boy, so we tried to help him. But they were a little drunk and started to push us. Then the police came out of nowhere, and we escaped without realizing that we didn't do anything wrong. That's it," you say nonchalantly. He looks at you in shock. "Did you get hurt? Why would you run away?!" he asks while checking up on you. "I just scratched my arm because I felt down. But it doesn't hurt anymore," you say, holding his wrist. "Yn! It's so dangerous to get into an argument with strangers. Why would you do that?!". "Oh, come on, Jungkook! I just wanted to help that poor boy!" you say, scoffing. He looks at you like, 'Oh, really?' "You could call the police," he says. Yes, you could, but in that moment everything happened so fast that you forgot to think about it.

 

"Stop scolding me! I will never call you again," you say, getting mad at him. "Oh, come on! You know that I'm right. I'm just thinking about you. Show me your injury," he says a little softer. "I don't want to," you say, pouting at him. He starts stroking your hair. "Come on. I'm just worried about you, and I don't want you to get hurt." You give him a side eye. "Next time call me and I'll show them what it is to argue with you," he says, wiggling his eyebrows. It's his way of making you laugh by saying random things. You just want him to go on and see his limits. "I'm getting sad. Are you ignoring me for real? Did I say something wrong? That wasn't my intention. I just got scared, and also I don't want to come to the hospital and see you in other conditions," he says, looking at his shoes. "I'm not mad! I just wanted to give you the silent treatment. I know that it was stupid to get into a fight with them. That was the last time. We were a little stupid, I promise," you say, patting his head. He immediately smiles up. It was nice to know someone cared for you.

 

–

 

School days are always boring and tiring. Today is exactly the same way. You and your friends are sitting in the school cafeteria because of the one lesson where the teacher was sick and you guys had study time for your own. You are drinking mango juice while taking notes for the next lesson. "Did you look for some colleges to go to after finals?" Jia asks. Tae scoffs at the question, "Why is everyone asking that? My parents also started talking about it, and I really feel nervous." You pat his back with a sad smile. "I'm interested in laws, maybe in that area something," Jiho says. To be honest, you are thinking about this question a lot because you know you have to deal with your parents. You had a lot of discussions with them, and you know their opinions will never change, but it felt like a big stone in front of your dreams. It's hard to go on a lonely journey without them, and you're scared that things will turn out differently than expected. Jungkook notices that you were deep in thought, so he slightly taps your arm. Turning towards him, you smile softly. "What about you? Art, is it right?" he asks and tilts his head, remembering the pinky promise. "I'm not sure about it," you answer honestly. The other three are deep in conversation, so it feels a little easier to open up. "What's that supposed to mean? I thought it was a big dream of yours," he says, looking a little confused. "Yeah, it is. But I'm not ready to deal with my family, I guess.".

 

"You know it's your life, and nobody should dig into it. Why would you give up your dream for them? I know they're family, but at the end of the day, you can try what you dream of." He is looking into your eyes with hope. "It's easy for you to say so, Jungkook. I've been dealing with them for over five years about this topic. It was not allowed to own things based on art. Do you really think they will be okay with it? I know I told them that I would move out and live my dream. But I don't know what if I'm the only one thinking it is worth it? Sometimes I overthink about it. At the end, my decision is my dream, but I'm also confused." you say with a straight face. "Look, I know what you mean, but if you go to that college, they will accept it at the end of the day, and you're thinking too much about it," he says. "No, they will not. They will wait for a moment to see me fall so that they can say we told you. And you know they would never offer me a helping hand. If I go for my dreams, I will lose them. And this doesn't even sound scary. I would be okay with that now, but will I be in the future?" you say while shaking your head. "Ah, come on, that's too dramatic. You need to take a risk sometimes. I also have the feeling that you're scared. Why don't you trust your skills? 

Don't be a chicken and be scared of a new way!". He is scolding you for your words.

 

It is strange to feel hurt by that because he was trying to give you some courage. You also don't know why the next words come out like that. "Sorry that I'm scared to be alone and confused about my future. I wish my parents would be like yours, sending me to other cities and countries for my dreams. We are not on the same boat, Jungkook." His words feel like salt over a wound. How pathetic! You need to give up all your dreams for your parents, and other parents would give up everything to fulfill their children's dreams. Jungkook is stunned to say anything; it totally took him off. You gather your things and thoughts. "I need some books at the library; see you in class" are your last words before leaving. Jungkook watches you and turns to his friends, who are looking at him questioningly. "What happened?" Tae asks. "I think I crossed a line without realizing." He could feel a sting in his chest. It never was his intention to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable.

 

Jungkook wanted to talk to you again, but you were busy doing other stuff. Ignoring him till the end of the school day and also disappearing on the way home. For him, it feels like weight.

 

–

 

"Oh, come on, man, slow down," Tae says while trying to get the bottle in Jungkook's hand. "I texted her, and she didn't even respond to me. She will never talk to me again? Fuck, I never thought I would make her feel hurt," he responds. The boys met for a drinking session, and he was already tipsy.

 

"Bro, maybe she wanted to think it over before talking with you. She does that a lot. You know we had a lot of arguments, and she never ghosted me," Jiho says with a little smile. Jungkook finishes his glass full of soju. "I don't know," he says. He will try every chance to talk to you again, but he feels like shit knowing that he hurt you. "You can buy something really big for her birthday! It's on the weekend, remember?" Tae suggests. Jungkook freezes on his spot. "Her birthday?" he asks. "Yeah, on Saturday," Jiho answers. "She will not invite me to her birthday, right?" he cries out. Both men are shocked and watch his little tantrum. "I will go and talk to her," Jungkook says while getting up. Tae tries to stop him, but it isn't working. He is already on his way to you.

 

You are brushing your hair after a shower and also think about the conversation with Jungkook. Yeah, you totally overreacted because he never wanted to make you feel bad or anything like that. You decide to talk to him tomorrow and tell him that you're a little sensitive and that you are sorry for the reaction. After finishing your nightly routine, you walk to your bed. At that moment, someone familiar opens the window and crawls in. You are so shocked that nothing comes out of your mouth, and you grab a pillow to throw it at him. Jungkook looks up to meet your eyes.

 

"Oh my god, are you crazy?!" you whisper at him. "Hi," he says with a lazy grin. "You are not answering my messages, so I needed to reach out," he adds. "I wanted to talk to you in person tomorrow, dummy," you answer. You walk to the door and lock it. Turning back, you sit down in front of him. "Look, I know I hurt you, but that was never my intention. I just wanted to help you make a decision. But I know it's not okay to say you're a chick. You're not! I should empathize more. I can understand if you don't want to talk to me, but give me a chance. Hmm, I will do everything you want! Maybe I could buy you so-" He starts talking, but you cut him off with your hand on his mouth. "I'm sorry I overreacted a little bit. You know I'm really sensitive with this topic because everything seems like a burden to me. But I never forget our pinky promise. Don't worry," you say and reach for his hand. He watches the way you are holding his hand and moving your thumb up and down. "No, I'm sorry. I wanted to make you feel better and feel supported, but it was the wrong way. I know how hard it is for you. How you're struggling with them. You feel little with them, right?" He is looking straight into your eyes. You could feel the tears threatening. "I feel lonely," you confess, and a little tear escapes your eye. He is quick enough to catch your tear with his fingers. "I will be here for you," he says. "You're leaving soon," you reply. "I love you," he says with a smile. "You're drunk" is the only thing you could say. "Maybe! But my feelings will not change because of alcohol," he whispers. Maybe it was like a promise. It wasn't easy to hold onto that because knowing that all of this will end soon made you feel sick.

 

For a moment you want to hold the time and forget everything else. You lean forward to kiss him. He caught that quick and also leaned in. Kissing him felt like a new wave of hope. He is holding your cheek to deepen. After some seconds, you pull away to catch your breath. Jungkook smiles at you and kisses your cheek. "Come on, drink first, and after that, we can sleep on my bed," you say while standing up. Jungkook sits down on the bed waiting for you. On your desk is a cup of water that you hand him. He drinks all of it while looking at you. It makes you nervous, and you couldn't hold your laugh. "You're cute when you're drunk," you say. He pouts at you, "Just when I'm drunk?". You help him lay down and take your own spot. Jungkook pulls you into his arms and starts stroking your hair. Tonight, after a long time, is the first time that you fell asleep right away. And your sleep was actually good.

 

–

 

The next morning came fast. You are the first one to open your eyes, watching him in his peaceful sleep. You start playing with his soft hair. If there was a chance of a wish for you, you would wish for him to stay with you. But you're not selfish enough to ask him to stay. Would he consider that anyway? You watch him open his eyes and look around before finding yours. He smiles at you lazily and brushes one strand of hair behind your ear. His movements are soft, and you want more.

 

"Did you sleep well?" you ask him while sitting up. He is holding your hand and nods. "I would like to offer you breakfast, but if my parents see you, we are both dead," you say. Jungkook finally sits up and pats your head. "All good. I will wait for you on the bench so we can go to school." You nod and stand up to go to the bathroom. He didn't want to let go of your hand, but he gave up soon. After finishing your routine, it was Jungkook's turn. You start to change your clothes when Jungkook finishes his job. He froze on his spot when he caught you without your sleeping shorts. It didn't take him long to turn around and quickly say, "Sorry." You laugh at that and try to hide your red cheeks that you got. When you're done, Jungkook escapes from the window, and you prepare two sandwiches for the way.

 

As promised, he is waiting on the bench with a big smile. "Here, I made you a sandwich," you say while offering. He takes a bite without taking it from you. You watch his face getting angry. Yep, that is a good sign. Then he takes it from your hand and starts eating.

 

–

 

It was Thursday, and Jungkook was five seconds away from getting on his knees to cry. Tae is holding his arm because he knows what will happen when Jungkook stops you. For the record, it was after school, and everyone wanted to go on a shopping trip, but without you. The reason was obvious: your birthday presents. And of course you asked them if they wanted to grab a boba with you. They needed to make some weird excuses, and your face changed into a sad expression. As you walked away while saying, "Okay, I will go alone and see you tomorrow," Jungkook was ready to call you back. Jia turns to the men standing next to her and says, "I will go with her. I bought my present a long time ago." She is rushing to get to you. "Calm down, dude. She will understand," Tae says to Jungkook. So the men club walks to the nearest shopping mall. Tae and Jiho are deep in thought about the perfect gift. Jungkook knows what he wants to buy.

 

"Where were you, man?" Tae asks after Jungkook came. "I bought the present," he answers. "Dude, I thought we were going to look together. That's unfair," Jiho says while pouting. "I knew what I wanted to buy, so it was easy. Now I can help you guys," he says. Tae waves with the bag in his hand and says, "We already bought something." The three of them went to the food court and ate. Jungkook is sitting with his phone in his hand, waiting for your response.

 

Kook: What are you doing??

sent

 

Tae and Jiho shared a knowing look. Both want to say something, but it is easier while they were practicing than now. "Are you feeling something towards yn?" Jiho asks. The question so heavy that also Tae choked on his drink. Jungkook looks up in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asks. "Come on, don't act stupid. You know what I mean. Just answer the question". All of them are quiet for a moment.

 

"I never felt something like this towards someone," he says after a while. Tae smiles at his words, "We can tell." Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. "I know it's unrealistic. I will leave soon. I don't know how I will turn back to my usual life and pretend like nothing happened here. I can't ask her to come with me, and I can't stay because I don't know if she is feeling the same way. Thinking about it makes me feel like dying slowly". Both men are listening to him with a sad expression. "Every end can be a part of a start. Just because you're leaving doesn't mean it will end. You can go to a college in the same city or nearby. Meet up every other day. It's all about communication, Jungkook. If both of you want a future together, then it will work out. You both just need to make some efforts. You should find the answer to her feelings first," Tae says while tapping on Jungkook's shoulder.

 

Jungkook nods. "You think we could work?" he asks with teary eyes. "Of course. Love shouldn't be about a perfect plan. It will make it more passionate when you need to fight for it. Time will show you at the end if it's working. And if not, you will at least not regret anything," Tae answers. "Thank you, Tae. That was a big help for me," Jungkook says and wipes off his tears. A small sob is heard. Both of them are confused and turn to Jiho, who was crying. "I'm all whiny when it comes to love struggles," he says, struggling to speak. "I never saw Jiho like this," Tae says and starts laughing. Jungkook joined him and thanked God that he met friends like them.

 

–

 

You are sitting with Jia, sipping from your boba. Your mind was on someone else, yes, of course Jungkook. Why would he go without you? Now some scenarios going inside your head. How ridiculous to think about the worst cases; he is seeing someone. Jia senses that you were deep in thought. At the same time, she is checking the birthday group for pictures of the gifts that the boys are sending. Your phone vibrates, and that is a good thing for stopping your weird thoughts and a help to come back to this moment. Jungkook's message makes you smile; he was thinking about you. But who would you be if you answered right away? With a lighter heart, you start talking with your best friend and forget to reply.

 

–

 

Kook: Are you alive?!

sent

Kook: Are you ignoring me? TT

sent

 

He is seconds away from walking to your house and climbing up the window. It is enough for him to fuck up the plan and tell you everything about the present shopping just to clarify that he would love to go to the mall with you, and he would never say no to a boba date. He randomly stands up from his bed and picks up his jacket. If you're not answering, then he will get the answer face to face.

 

Yn: Why would I ignore you? o.o

 

Jungkook heard his phone vibrating and threw away the jacket in his hands. Jumping on the bed to lie back and answer quickly.

 

Kook: Idk... you didn't reply

Yn: Sorry, my battery died:(

Kook: nah it's okay now I know that everything is fine

Yn: yes! Good night 🫶🏼

Kook: good night <3

 

He needs to see you tomorrow to check if you're sulky at all.

 

–

 

You are walking to the classroom with a big smile on your face. This morning you decided to cook for yourself and Jungkook. Okay, you're not the best cook, but it tasted really good. Halfway through the hallway, you stop in your tracks. Is that Jungkook with the pretty girl from the other class? They are talking and laughing. You never saw them talk before, so it's hard to understand from where the closeness came. You watch them a little, and seeing her touching him the whole time makes you sick. The feeling is new in your heart, but you don't want to overthink it. Could it be that your weird scenarios from yesterday were true? Are they more than strangers? Bitter, you feel bitter.

 

Jungkook talks with Yuna about a school club. Explaining that he was gone next week, so he couldn't extend any of the clubs. He is talking to her for the first time, but he can feel that the girl in front of him wants to know more about him. The conversation is smooth, and he has fun. Until his eyes wander off to the back, and there you are standing. You look a little confused. His eyes meet yours, and that is a signal for you to walk away. Jungkook's face drops quickly, and he cuts the conversation off gently. Wishing her goodbye, he walks to the class.

 

By the time you are sitting at your desk and looking at something on your phone. The weather is perfect. Jungkook sits in front of you. "Good morning," he says. You didn't look up but answered quickly with a good morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him sulking. "Are you mad at me because of yesterday? Come on, I will tell you about it tomorrow!" he says. This is a big hint because tomorrow he wants to count down your birthday. "I'm not mad at you because of yesterday. I just thought we were close enough that you would tell me about the girls you're seeing," you say while putting your phone away. He opens his mouth to say something, but he is stunned. "I'm not seeing anyone. Why would you think that?" he asks. You start looking at him in disbelief. "The girl from earlier wants you. It was so clear," you say. He laughs at that and adds, "I don't care about that; I want someone else." Why is he wiggling with his eyebrows right now?!

 

"Anyway, I don't care. I cooked lunch for both of us, but now I don't want to share," you say with a pouting face. "Aw, don't lie. You care! And how cute of you to cook for me as well. Can we please share? I want to taste it," he says. You start glaring at him, but his cute face is no help. He starts playing with your fingers. "You know the day I came to your room a little drunk after our first fight?" he asks, not looking up. You nod. "I remember what I said. And I was honest about it". He looks into your eyes. You never answered, but that also never was his intention. He wanted to talk about his feelings, and he will wait until you can talk about yours. His words are enough to make you smile. "I like serious men," you say. "So you like me?" he asks. You look around the room; everyone was inside their own bubble. You come closer to kiss him on the cheek. "Answer your own question," you whisper. It feels like a dream.

 

At lunchtime you take out two lunch boxes. One in front of Jungkook and one in front of yourself. He opens it with sparkling eyes. "It looks so good, omg," he says. You also cut the vegetables in star shapes. He laughs at that and starts eating. You watch his expression, and seeing him angry was a good sign. Eating happily together is peace for both of you. "Do you have plans for tomorrow night?" he asks after finishing his food. "Hmm, no. Why?" you look at him. "Let's do something together and count down. On Saturday we could celebrate with the rest of the group," he suggests. "Okay, I'm in. What are we going to do? you ask. "It's a surprise," he answers, smiling.

 

–

 

It is Friday night, and you are getting ready to meet Jungkook. You decide to wear a black skirt and a cropped brown turtleneck. In front of the door, you wear your leather jacket, scarf, and black Converse. Of course you told your parents that you are going to Jia.

 

Walking down the street, you see Jungkook waiting. He looks hot with his hair done and an outfit that is matching yours. He sees you coming and waves. Only then did you see the red roses in his hand. That makes your heart skip a beat. "Hi," you say with a shy smile. "Hi, you look beautiful," he says and hands you the roses. "Thank you! They're so pretty, like you," you say while smiling like an idiot. "Come on, let's go. We only have 30 minutes. We will count down at home," he tells you the plan for the night.

 

After a quick walk, you could see the sea shining. The stars are beautiful, and you feel happy after a long time. "Actually, I wanted to eat the cake here with you, but then I decided to only watch the stars with you instead," he says. "You know that I love the night and the sea," you say. Now you were walking beside the water. It is calming to walk while listening to the water. "I think you were right. That girl from yesterday found me on Instagram and texted me," he suddenly shares. You look at him confused and ask, "What did she say?". "If I want to meet her," he replies. You frown at that. It is selfish to want him only for yourself because, yeah, he is hot, and every girl would want him. "Don't worry; I blocked her right away," he says after the pause. "Why would I worry?" you say, trying to hide the relief. "So you would be okay if I went out on a date with her?" he asks, surprised. "Slow down," you say faster than expected. Jungkook couldn't control his laugh. "Don't worry, baby, I'm all yours," he says, holding up both of his hands. You turn to him with an annoyed expression. "Stop teasing me." "Me? I would never. But you're pretty when you're jealous," he says and continues to laugh.

 

"You wish for a tragic death," you say while putting the roses behind you. Then you push him into the water. It is so sudden that he loses his balance and falls into the water. You start laughing at him. But you didn't expect him to pull you. It is not deep enough, but your clothes are wet anyway. Both of your laughs ringing in the air. Jungkook places his hands on your waist and starts to dance. Both of you lost in each other's eyes. When was the last time you felt this happy? He starts to sing a love song you never heard before, but you love it. After he finishes, it is a sign for you to move closer. His lips so dangerously close to yours. You start kissing him while your fingers make their way up to his hair on the back. He quickly matches your lip movements. Slipping his tongue inside your mouth. The moment is like an old romantic story. You break the kiss to catch a breath. Both of you are smiling happily. Until you splash water into his face. A second of silence before you grab your roses and start running in panic. He is so fast, "Yah! Don't run away!" he screams behind you. Now you know what to wish for when you blow out the candles.

 

You are getting inside Jungkook's apartment. He tells you to wait in the living room. You use the time to take off your jacket and put the flowers on the table. Because of your wet clothes, you sit down on the floor. Five minutes later, Jungkook comes back with a birthday cake. Your favorite, strawberry cheesecake. The lights of the candles a beautiful contrast on his skin. He starts singing happy birthday, and you couldn't resist hiding your face with your hands. He sits down in front of you, placing the cake on the table. "Come on, blow it off," he says. You close your eyes for a moment. Thinking of the perfect wish, him. Opening them, you blow out. He claps his hands and starts cutting the cake. You don't know why you want to cry right now. Feeling emotional about the whole situation. Tears pour down your face, and you hate yourself for ruining the moment. Jungkook looks up to give you the slice. "A big slice for the birthday prince—" he stops mid-sentence. You could see the worry in his face. "What happened?" he asks. "I don't want you to leave me," you say with a sob. Saying it out loud made it more painful. He would be gone next week. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat. "I don't want to leave too," he says, reaching for your hand. You couldn't stop crying, and he comes next to you. Hugging you tight, you lean on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for ruining this now," you told him. "Yah come on. For me it's important what you feel. Never hide it from me, okay?" he says. You nod your head. His gentle fingers are wandering on your back.

 

Pulling away, you look into his eyes. He brushes your hair away. This time it is him who leans closer to kiss. It feels more intimate than at the beach. He pulls you into his lap while holding your waist. The kiss deepens, and you start to move on his lap a little. Feeling a heat between your legs. His hands sliding inside your cropped turtleneck. You break the kiss and look at him with lust. "Do you want to go on?" he asks with a low voice. Nodding your head, he stands up with you on his arms. He places you on the bed and gets off his shirt. You watch his body while he gets onto the bed and starts kissing your neck. "You're so pretty," he whispers. "Can I take this off?" he asks while his fingers pull at the turtleneck. "Yes," you say a little nervous. You help him get it off. His hands start discovering your body quickly. And the next, your skirt was gone. Lying between his legs, he starts placing kisses around your boobs and stomach. Playing with the hem of your panties, he looks into your eyes for confirmation. You nod quickly and brush his hair with your hand. He takes them off, and they find a place on the floor. "Fuck," he says and starts playing with your sensitive folds. Your moans fill the room. Jungkook is quick to start with his tongue. "You taste amazing, baby," he says. You start fisting his hair. It felt better than imagined. After some time you moan his name, "Oh my god. I think I- I'm coming," you say. "Come pretty girl," he says softly. It is enough for you to shake underneath him. He swallows you happily.

 

After coming down from your high, you open your eyes. He is watching you like you are the prettiest night sky. The next thing gone is your bra. His fingers and tongue playing with your boobs gently. You had enough courage now to start wandering your fingers on his chest. They quickly find his belt, which you open right away. He helps you take off his pants. Only in his boxers, he watches your body. In his eyes you were the most beautiful he ever saw. His fingers find your folds again. This time pushing in. You moaned at the sudden stretch. He adds one more finger and gently pushes and pulls out of your hole. When he thought it was enough, he pulled out and licked his fingers with a smile. You smile back at him and play with the hem of his boxers. He takes them off, and your eyes wander to his dick. Yeah, he definitely is big. "I need to tell you something," you say. He caresses your face and says, "Tell me, baby." "I never did this before. It's my first time," you whisper a little embarrassed. He smiles at that. "We can stop here if you want." You pout, "No, I want this." "Okay, we will do this together. It will hurt a little, but then you will feel amazing. Trust me?" he says, planting a kiss on your jaw. "I always trust you." "It's also the first time for me," Jungkook says. Now feeling more emotional. You smile at him. "Shit, I have no condom. I can go and buy some," he says, frustrated trying to get off. You stop him. "It's okay for me. I'm on the pill". He nods at that.

 

"Are you ready?" he asks while starting to stroke his dick. "Yes," you answer. One hand is holding yours, and the other one is guiding his dick to your entrance. He slowly pushes his tip in. "Relax, baby." Pain shoots up through your body as he pushes his length into you inch by inch. You moan his name, and he is kissing your neck while his free hand caresses your hips. With a final thrust, he is all nestled in. He waits for you to adjust to his size. You close your eyes, feeling tears filling. It feels stretched, and it burns a little. But feeling Jungkook's lips on your body makes it all better. "You can move," you say. That is a sign for him, so he starts to slowly pull back and push in. He moans at the sensation. Quickly finding a pace that is okay for both of you. It is more than fucking; it is making love. Your bodies and hearts were one. His room is filled with the sound of bodies and moans. The night is long until you shook underneath him, reaching your high. He soon after spilled his thick ropes of cum into you. Feeling it makes you moan into his lips. After controlling his breath, he slowly pulls out and watches his cum spilling out.

 

Jungkook helps you clean up, and you took a shower together. You are in his arms like a koala when you turn back to his room. Wearing one of his shirts. He sits you down on his desk with a kiss on top of your hair. Then he turns to the bed and starts changing his sheets. You see the little bloodstain on it. After unfolding the fresh sheets, you lay down. He hugs you tight. "I love you." You kiss his cheek as an answer to his words. Sleep was pulling you, and Jungkook was happy to watch you.

 

–

Jungkook is the first one to wake up. He enjoys the view and starts playing with your hair. His head full of questions, are you going to regret everything? Your eyes flutter open and meet his. You smile at him and move closer to warm up. He smiles at that and hugs you even more. "Good morning, baby," he says. You place a kiss on his neck. "Good morning. Do you want to know what I dreamed about?" you ask. He nods his head. "About the cake. I forgot to taste it," you say, pulling away. You jut out your lip while watching his movements. "You can eat all of it if you want. Come on," he says and stands up. Holding his hand, you walk to the living room. You sit down on the floor and start to eat. "Whoa, so tasty." Jungkook carefully watches you with a smile.

 

He suddenly stands up and walks back to the bedroom. Soon coming back with a box in his hand. "I forgot to give you your present," he says. Sliding the little box on the table towards you as a signal to open it. You look at him confused. Opening the box, you see matching silver rings with little diamonds around them. You start laughing, "Are you going to propose?". He rolls his eyes. "Marrying you is on my list, but it's too soon," he adds. "So romantic," you say while getting shy. You take out one of the rings and try it on your middle finger. With joy you show him it. "Now showing me a middle finger? Tsk," he says. You take out the other one, which is a little bit bigger than yours. "Which finger?" you ask. "Index," he answers. You slide it on his finger. He touches your hand. "It looks so cute." You take out your phone and take a picture of your hands. "I love it," you say with a big smile. "Thank you, Jungkook," you add after a little pause. "But I want you to wear it forever until I buy you a new one," he says. You nod at him, "Of course. But you too!". "I promise," he says.

 

After eating more cake, you started getting ready for the celebration with your friends. All of you rented a party room with karaoke and music. Dancing to party hits and singing your lungs out. Of course, alcohol wasn't missing. Tae forced you to play a drinking game. Both of you are already tipsy. Jungkook watched you the whole day, drinking fewer. When you called it a day, everyone started getting home.

 

You knew that your family wasn't home, so Jungkook helps you to get into your room. "I need to do my routine," you say and walk to the bathroom. He helps you get your makeup off and brush your teeth. Sitting on the bed, you wait for him to give you your pajamas. He helps you change and tucks you into bed. Patiently waiting for you to fall asleep. "Happy birthday," he whispers before leaving.

 

–

 

1 week later...

 

If you could stop the time, you would do it right now. It was one day before Jungkook returns home, and you felt more than sad. You talked a lot about this topic, but none of you had the courage to ask to stay or come. But you decided to stay in contact and go to a college that is near to meet. Why is it feeling like it will never happen and everything will end in this city?

 

When you arrive at the restaurant for the last dinner, you fight not to cry. It's your fault to have such a relationship with him while you knew he would be gone soon. You try to not think about it tonight. Walking inside, you can already see everyone sitting at the table. "I'm so sorry for being late," you say. "Nah, all good. I also came seconds before," Tae says. You sit down next to Jungkook (it was the only free chair). He smiles at you and you return it. Everyone starts to order food and drinks. After some time the table is full and you start eating.

 

"I can't believe that the time flew by so fast," Jiho says in disbelief. "Time is so crazy," Jia adds. You silently eat your pasta. Jungkook is worried about you. He can imagine what is happening inside your head. But he knows you will try to play it off tonight. Finishing your food, you start to sip from your wine. Tae gives Jungkook a little side eye, and you catch that. Perfect, your plan wasn't going anywhere. Everyone knows about my feelings, you think. It feels uncomfortable that every one of them looked at you from time to time. Oh, they want you to cry. The waiter quickly took the empty plates. You start eating the fruits and think of their story. The silence is killing you.

 

Tae waves a bag in front of Jungkook's face while he is busy looking at you. He turns to the bag in surprise. "That is a little gift from us all. I know we will see each other again, but I want you to remember us in this memory," Tae says. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it," Jungkook says. He pulls out a box and opens it to see the black watch. "It's so pretty," he says and starts wearing it right away. Why is it so warm in here? You can feel your eyes getting watery. And at this second you start scolding yourself. It was the last dinner together, and you don't want him to remember it like a funeral.

 

"I remember the first day when we were waiting for the exchange students. You were standing next to the teacher like a proud little kid," you suddenly say and start to laugh. "Oh my god, yes! They acted like it's a big mystery," Jia adds, also laughing at the memory. Jungkook is happy to see you laughing. "I was nervous, okay? New city and new people. It's not that easy," he says to defend himself. "Ah, come on. There were already rumors that you are hot," Tae says. "Everybody wanted to see you," Jiho says with a grin. You could see his ears getting red. "Are you shy?" you ask him with a smile. "It's a little embarrassing," he answers with a pout. You laugh at that and poke his cheek. "Come on, I would feel like an idol if I were you," you say. He sticks his tongue out. The night goes on like that. Everyone telling a funny story and you feel the bonding.

 

Getting out of the restaurant, you start walking to the nearest station. Because of the sea, it was a lot windier, but it felt good. "Let's leave a memory of us behind," Jia says and kneels down. All of you walk towards her. She takes out a black pen that is thick enough to write on the ground. It was a little place on the floor full of names. She started writing the names. You smile at the heart she drew next to them. "We need to meet here in ten years," she says. You think about it; in ten years, where are you? What happened in your life? Are you in touch with Jungkook?

 

Like always, you bid goodbye to your friends. Now only you and Jungkook are walking together. "I will miss you," he says suddenly. It cuts through the silence and your heart. "I will miss you too," you say. "I never expected you to return my words, but do you have feelings for me?" he asks with soft eyes. You turn to him. "Do you think I would be like that without having feelings for you?". He nods, but you know that this is not what he is asking for. "I know that you want to hear the magic three words," you say and pause for a moment. "I will not say it to you," you add. He looks confused and asks, "Why?". "I'm scared that it will be the end of us. So I'm giving you something to wait for us," you say. His head now hanging low. When he decides to look up, you see tears streaming down his face. It is the last straw for your own tears. "This will never be the end of us, right?" he asks with a sparkle of hope. You shrug your shoulders and step closer to him. Hugging him tightly, you kiss his neck. His hands find their place on your waist. The time should stop now.

–

 

In the morning, all of you stand in front of Jungkook's house. It was time to go for him. He started saying goodbye to everyone. Standing in front of you, he hands you an envelope. "This is for you," he adds. You take it and smile at him. "If this is the end, will you come to my first gallery event?" you ask him. He smiles at that and answers, "I will. And will you come to my first match?". "I will," you say while wiping off your tear. He kisses you on the lips a little longer than planned. Turning around, he waves goodbye to all of you. "I will miss you," Tae says with teary eyes. "I will miss you too. Thank you for everything," Jungkook says before getting into the taxi. You watch the car drive away. Without saying anything, you walk back home. You realize that you never walked back alone from his house. This was reason enough to start crying.

 

Walking into your room, you lock the door. You sit down on the floor and look at the window. Can he crawl in? You look at the envelope. Why does it feel so suffocating? Opening it, you start reading the letter he left:

 

Dear Yn,

It's my second time writing a letter. And I needed a lot of tries to finish this one. My first letter was a confession about my feelings towards you, but I managed to say I love you. I wished I could tell you all of this, but I know that I will break down. If you're reading this, it means I'm on my way home. First of all, I want to thank you for everything. For every moment that you shared with me. I wish I could stay a little longer or promise you that this is a beginning. Maybe we will never see each other again, but never forget that these moments will always remain special to me. I will hold my promises, so please do it too. Live for your dreams and never give up, okay? If this is our end, I wish you a lovely future. A true love, someone who would stay with you no matter what. I hope you're not mad at me for leaving. I just know that it's unrealistic to say, Fuck everything; I will stay, or I will take you with me. Why are we so young? Anyway, I will always be there for you no matter what. Please call me if you need to. Never forget that I love you. I will wait for the day that you will say it back.

 

Your (I will always be yours)

Jungkook

 

Note: Please listen to the CD. I wrote the song and sang it for you.

 

You can't control your tears. It hurts so much that you want to cry until there are no more tears left. "I love you so much," you whisper. He was the only one who wanted your happiness. Not your family; it was him who supported your dreams. Of course your friends were also there for you. But he was special. Your first with a lot. With shaking hands, you take out the CD and put it in your CD player. Jungkook's soft voice starts playing. The song familiar to your ears. He sang it at the beach on your birthday. You cried yourself to sleep. Hoping he would be in your dreams.

 

–

 

˚₊✩‧₊2024˚₊✩‧₊

 

You are standing with a little group of people talking about your last works. It was your first gallery event, and you feel excited about it. More and more people come to look at your work. At the end you're happy about every single piece. You could see Tae, Jia, and Jiho standing at the table. Excusing yourself, you walk towards them. "Hiii! Thanks for coming," you say. "Everything looks so good," Tae says. You smile at him, "Thank you." "At the end it was worth it," Jia says with a smile. "Yeah, you're right," you answer. After talking a bit, you walk away to look at your own pieces and answer some questions. You stand longer at one piece, which is your favorite. You gave it the title 'end of time.' A beach at night, with two people dancing and a bucket of roses on the sand. It reminds you of your 19th birthday.

 

"This looks familiar," a voice says. You turn to him in disbelief. "You came," you say with a low voice. Jungkook smiles at you. "I promised." You return the smile and play with your ring that he gifted you ten years ago.

 

–

 

┊͙Epilogue - 2014┊͙

 

 

 

Jungkook is sitting on the train wiping his tears. He decides to listen to some music for distraction. Opening his travel bag, he finds a small bag. He doesn't remember putting this in his travel bag. He takes out the frame and starts smiling. It is a drawing of him with his favorite jersey on. Your signature on the right side. His tears start to flow again. He grabs the piece of paper and starts reading:

 

I hope you like it! Sorry for sneaking this in, but I wanted to surprise you. I know you're sad about the whole situation, but stop being so. I know that this will not be the end. How ridiculous it would be for two people who love each other to break contact just because they're not living next door! Right? I love you, but despite it, wait to hear it from me, okay? Now stop sulking and enjoy your ride back. <3

 

Today he is smiling for the first time thanks to you. You make him feel sad and happy at once. He is happy that he had the chance to get to know you and love you. And also being loved by you. He played all of his luck on this, and he regrets not a bit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thank you for reading! This is my first work, so I hope you enjoyed it. Also, English is not my first language, so excuse me for mistakes.

I love and hate open endings. Do you think they met at the gallery for the first time after ten years? Maybe I will write a part 2 about all the things that were left open. Depends on how many people are interested in reading this.

I would be happy if you could leave a review. Feel free to ask me questions or talk about anything (press the button in my bio)! Feel loved ♡

[alittlesongbirdchirps]

JUST ONE MORE TEAR TO CRY AU

(I saw a new lantern core and was, like yes sorrow sounds like Tim lol.)   Tim Drake becomes a lantern, not just any lantern, a sorrow lantern. To save Bruce, he sacrificed everything, and he lost Robin. He knew deep down this would be his last mission as a red robin, as a robin, maybe even a bat. The league didn’t believe him. He tried to hand the USB with everything they pushed it away, saying he needed help.   “No please.” He begged, but they only gave him pity, and he couldn’t do this without them. He doesn’t have the power, nor does he have the resources. He leaves more like escapes, and now he is sitting in an old abandoned warehouse not knowing what to do everything he did seemed pointless, hopeless he couldn’t do his job and save Batman, save Bruce and he lost Superboy, impulse he couldn’t even say their names, everything was taken from him everything he worked hard for and this USB with everything to prove Bruce is alive and how to rescue him wasn’t even looked at.   His tears fall soundlessly as he grapples with frustration and a deepening sorrow over at the thought of how close he was to saving Bruce, only to be startled by his father’s ring he kept on him to remind him of his failure to save his father, which begins to steam. The steam begins to expand filling up the room and when it dissipates, his father's ring is now on his finger, transformed into a grey colour, he stares down in confusion but something else is also all he can feel is deep sorrow not only that his outfit has changed its completely grey and when he reaches for his face; it feels as if covered. It doesn’t take him long to figure out he must be in some type of lantern situation, but he’s never seen a lantern ring like this and he’s pretty certain rings come to their holders, not made by them. Silent tears stream down his face underneath the bandana, as he stares at the USB all he can think of is everything that’s ever made him sad it’s so painful, he’s clutching his chest but he can’t give up he has to get it to the only person who will actually look at it and make sure the league looks at it too. So he flies, he flies into the air. It should be so thrilling, but it’s not. He has the USB in hand and makes his way to the warehouse. He knows he will be in. Unfortunately, he’s not here at the. Moment that’s okay, he floats down and places it on the desk before hearing the cocking of a gun and a familiar voice yell at him. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my warehouse?”   Tim turns around slowly. It takes a moment for Jason to realise who it is standing in front of him. “Tim?” He asks in disbelief, in doubt. He tries to go towards him, but before he can, Tim just floats up and away. He can hear Jason call his name sounding panicked.   (After Jason reviews the USB, makes the league look at it, and makes sure to retrieve the tape from when Tim was in the warehouse before showing Dick who is currently Batman as well as Alfred, bringing up his concerns to the pair. It temp put on the back burner when Bruce is back not wanting to worry the man. Oh also, in this AU Tim’s gonna be the first sorrow lantern. Oh and I promise Im gonna start writing fics instead of just little drabbles of AU lol so questions for any AU or ideas send them my way.)   ALSO NOT EDITED AGAIN.

[shuavez]

2:58am — j.ww

tags/warnings — waiter!wonwoo x reader. no warnings!

a/n — i love pancake parlour. that’s it that’s the fic.

The diner is quiet, save for the soft hum of the company Spotify playlist filling the air and the occasional sound of banter drifting from the kitchen, where the cooks are talking about anything but the food. The bright lights above cast a muted glow over the half-empty tables, the remnants of late-night customers already cleared away.

You’re finishing up wiping down already-clean tables, the cloth warm and damp in your hands, the rhythmic motion soothing after hours of not much happening. The clock on the wall ticks lazily toward 3 a.m., and it’s just you and Wonwoo left.

“God, it’s dead tonight,” you mutter, pushing the last of the crumbs off a booth with a sigh. You glance over at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

He looks up at you, his lips curling into a smile. “At least we have a place to ourselves.” He’s always so calm, always managing to make even the dullest hours feel comfortable.

“True,” you reply, leaning on the counter next to him. “I’m almost too comfortable. I feel like we should start a podcast or something. ‘Pancake Philosophy.’ I mean, we have all the time in the world for deep, philosophical conversations, right?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I’m not sure you’re ready for my thoughts. Some of them are too deep for you.” His voice is playful, but you catch the hint of affection behind the teasing.

“Too deep, huh?” you tease back, grinning. “I bet you’re the type of guy to have a secret stash of journals filled with all your musings.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, but his smile lingers, as it always does when you’re around. “If I had a secret stash, I’d probably burn it. Who needs to remember all that nonsense?”

“I think you secretly want to be a philosopher. Bet you’ve thought about it,” you poke, leaning in a little, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Maybe.” He looks at you, his expression softening a little. “Maybe I just want to be good at something.”

“Pretty sure you’re already good at everything, Wonwoo,” you reply, giving him a half-hearted eye roll. “I can barely get my one job done, and you’re over here making pancakes look like art and being wise at the same time.”

He laughs at that, shaking his head. “You’re being dramatic. But you do have a point. I’m good at pancakes.”

“You’re the best at pancakes,” you affirm, nudging him with your shoulder. It’s playful, easy—like it’s always been between you two. There’s a smoothness to your friendship, a shared understanding without needing to say much. You’ve both been here countless times before, these quiet hours at the end of the night, and it’s always felt like home.

From the back, you hear Jeonghan’s voice echoing out to the front of the diner. “You two still here? I’m done with you. Go home already.”

You glance up at the clock—it’s almost 3 a.m., and he’s right. You’ve been finished with your shift for a while now, but there’s something nice about hanging around with Wonwoo, the air light and comfortable.

“Well, guess we’re done,” you say, gathering your stuff and heading toward your usual booth. “I’m not gonna complain about leaving early, but I swear, one of these days, I’m going to be too good at this job.”

Wonwoo falls in step beside you, nursing a stack of pancakes the cooks had kindly prepared for your knockoff. “I’m sure you’ll make it to employee of the month eventually. Don’t worry.”

“You’re really gonna stick with that ‘employee of the month’ thing?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “At this rate, I’m more likely to get ‘most likely to break something before the end of my shift.’”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure you’ve already won that award. Multiple times.”

“Rude.” You give him a playful shove as you both walk to the far booth in the corner of the diner, slipping into your usual seats. “I’m not that bad.”

Wonwoo chuckles, reaching immediately for a fork. “Let’s be real—if anyone’s gonna break something, it’s you.” He smirks, poking idly at the edge of a pancake.

You roll your eyes again, grabbing the syrup and drizzling it over the pancakes that still sit between you two. “I’m not that clumsy, alright? I can handle a few spatulas and a knife without causing a catastrophe.”

“Sure, sure,” he says, his smile widening. “If you say so.”

You settle into a comfortable silence after that, just the sound of your forks scraping against plates filling the air. It’s a simple, ordinary moment, but it’s perfect in its own way. You’re used to this—eating pancakes at 3 a.m., laughing over the stupidest things, making fun of each other like friends do. But tonight, something’s different.

After a while, Wonwoo finally speaks again, his voice a little softer, more serious. “Hey, uh… I was thinking.”

You glance up at him. “That’s dangerous. You thinking always leads to something weird.”

He laughs, but there’s something nervous in it. “Maybe. But, uh… you wanna go out sometime? Like, outside of work?” His words stumble over each other, but you catch the sincerity in them, the way his gaze lingers just a little longer than usual.

You freeze, your fork halfway to your mouth, and blink. Wonwoo’s never been the type to make bold moves—he’s always been the quiet one, the one who observes more than speaks. The idea of him asking you out feels like something out of a dream.

“Like a date?” you ask, a little breathless.

“Yeah,” he confirms, voice quiet but earnest. “I mean… I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Just didn’t know how to ask. I didn’t want to make things weird.”

You stare at him for a moment, heart pounding in your chest, and a slow smile spreads across your face. “I’d like that,” you say softly. “I think I’d really like that.”

Wonwoo visibly relaxes, his smile returning, this time warmer. The tension that was there just a moment ago melts away, and the air between you two feels lighter. He looks down at his half-empty plate, suddenly unsure again. “I’ll… figure out when and where. I’ll make it good, I promise.”

After a few minutes, you finish the last bite of your pancakes, and you both slide out of the booth. The night air hits you both as you walk toward your car, the cool breeze stirring the stillness around you. There’s a slight unease in the air, but it’s not bad—just new.

There’s a pause—an almost awkward silence, but it’s filled with the weight of unspoken feelings, the kind that have been lingering in the air for far too long. Wonwoo shifts on his feet, then looks at you, his voice low and careful. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

The question, so polite and sincere, takes you by surprise. It’s almost as if he’s asking for permission to release something that’s been building between you two. You nod, a little breathless, and his hand comes to rest gently at your side.

He leans in slowly, cautiously, like he’s afraid he might break the fragile tension between you. When his lips finally meet yours, it’s soft at first—tentative, almost awkward, as if both of you are learning how to fit together in this new way. But then, with a shift of his weight, a soft sigh against your lips, it changes.

The kiss deepens, the rhythm coming naturally now as you both move in sync. It’s a release, an exhale of everything unsaid, and you lose yourself in the warmth of it. His lips are gentle yet insistent, his hand tentatively brushing the side of your face, and you can feel the quiet urgency that’s been hidden beneath the surface.

Just when you’re beginning to lose track of time, a voice breaks through the moment.

Jeonghan’s leaning against the door, holding a trash bag. “Well, look at that,” he says with a sly grin, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve been counting down the days until Wonwoo grew a pair.”

You laugh, pulling away from Wonwoo with a grin, and Jeonghan’s teasing only makes the moment feel more real.

“I’ll text you,” you say to Wonwoo, quickly pulling out your phone and setting a time and place. The promise of a real date, outside of work, feels like something new and exciting.

As you drive away, the taste of hot fudge and maple syrup lingers on your lips, mixing with the sweet anticipation of what’s to come.

[holylulusworld]

Gap Filler (2)

Summary: Lack of communication leads to fallout.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, Walter being a douche, break-up, mentions of break-ups, amends, angry reader, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: A short drabble to the miniseries.

Gap Filler (1)

Walter feels like he’s losing his mind. He’s pacing the room, driving the lab assistant crazy. She huffs and shakes her head. Not only does Walter ask for an unauthorized analysis, but he also gets on her nerves.

“Sir, the results won’t come faster if you keep on walking holes into the ground. It will take as long as it takes.”

“I’ll be back in half an hour and need the results by then,” he huffs and turns to leave. “I know you’re not happy that I called in a favor. This is an important, life-changing event. So please, hurry up. I need to be sure if I bring something for the baby too.”

She furrows her brows but says nothing. Three years ago, Walter did her a favor without asking questions. She will do the same for him to pay him back and to be even with the grumpy detective.

“Half an hour,” she nods. “Got it.”

“…and?” Walter expectantly looks at the lab assistant. He never felt so much pressure on him before. Not even while on the hunt for a killer. “Please tell me you have the result for me.”

“Here.” She hands Walter the results. “Now we are even. Never ask me to do something like this ever again. I could lose my job.”

“If you forget about the test and the results, we are even.” He looks at the results. His heart jumped for a second before he remembered what he said to you only a few days ago.

“Detective.” She nods and turns back toward her equipment. “You shouldn’t waste more time. She’s on the way to start a new life far away from you.”

Walter huffs. The last thing he needs is someone telling him that he fucked up big time. He already knows there’s no way you’ll forgive him.

“Can I help you, sir?” The clerk at the shop asks. She’s looking at Walter standing in front of a shelf. He looks left and right, unsure what to buy. “Sir?”

“Hmm…” Walter dips his head to look at her. He has his arms crossed over his chest as he tries to decide on a gift hamper. “I need a gift for…” He sniffs and looks back at the shelf. “…my pregnant girlfriend. It should say, I’m sorry and happy to become a dad at the same time.”

She frowns. “You want to apologize with a baby gift hamper? Sir, I don’t know your girlfriend well, but that’s not the best gift for an angry pregnant woman.”

“How do you wanna know?” He cocks his head to watch her look at the shelf herself. “I want her to know that I’m happy about the baby and that I’m sorry for saying all those stupid things.”

She huffs now. “You are always sorry, aren’t you? Men are all the same. Do you believe a half-hearted apology and a random gift will make things up to her? How dare you come back to her to do it all over again!”

“Whoa, I didn’t ask for your opinion or help. If you’d excuse me now,” Walter angrily says. He glares at the clerk, pissed at her cocky attitude. “Whatever crawled up your ass is not my fault or problem. Nice customer service.”

He’s too angry to focus on buying anything at the shop. Walter storms out of the shop, squaring his jaw. The young woman at the shop wasn’t wrong. Walter hurt you beyond repair, and this can’t be fixed with a fucking gift hamper.

“I’ll take two, no, three of these.” Walter points at the flower baskets. “No, this is stupid. Give me your prettiest bouquet of peonies. She loves them.”

He looks around the flower shop, frowning deeply. There’s a beautiful orchid and a large cactus next to it. Walter shakes his head and laughs. “An impossible match,” he murmurs before pointing at the plants. “I changed my mind. I’ll take these two.”

Packing up your things to move out of your home feels wrong. You learned to love your apartment and turned it into a cozy home for you.

Not so long ago, you had hoped Walter would move in with you one day.

All your hope got shattered the day he told you Rachel is back and that he wants to try again. Your heart broke, and you mourned the life you could’ve had if only Walter felt the same.

Now you’re going to raise the life growing inside of you alone, far away from the friends you made and your beloved home.

“Well, this can’t be helped,” you murmur while rubbing your belly. There’s no swelling yet, but soon enough people will know you’re expecting. “We are going to do this all on our own, bean. Don’t worry. Your mommy is going to give you all the love you’ll need.”

For a few moments, you allow yourself to be sad about the breakup. You cry, you scream, and then you get up to pack up a few more things.

Walter is a nervous wreck. He paces in front of your apartment, the cactus, orchid, and a baby gift hamper in his arms.

“Fuck,” he curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Walter curses himself for being a fool. If only he knew that you never wanted to leave him for a better position.

How could he be so blind? How could he not see that your feelings for him were true?

His instinct should’ve told him you are not going to leave him. Instead, he ignored his instinct and listened to the nagging voice in the back of his mind.

“FUCK!” One last time, he takes a deep breath before knocking at your door, using his right elbow.

“Hello, what can I—” You stiffen when your eyes meet Walter’s blue eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same!” He huffs. “I told you so often to not open the door before checking who’s on the other side.”

You huff. “This is how you want to start this conversation? Really, Walter?” He smirks when you put your hands on your hips to glare at him. “What brings you here? Do you want to make sure I’m leaving? Maybe Rachel needs a new apartment, and you want mine.”

“Baby,” he hesitantly says. “Rachel is not, and never will be, a part of my life. She wanted to return for a few months, but we didn’t stay in touch. I lied, believing you want to leave me too. I was hurt and believed hurting you would make me feel better.”

You narrow your eyes. “For a smart detective, you are dumb as a brick.” Slamming the door in his face, you huff. “FUCK YOU!”

“Baby? Uh—will you at least let me explain things? Please?” He knocks at your door again, using his foot this time. “Y/N, please open the door. The cactus is poking my chest, and the orchid looks like it's scared of me.”

You’re tempted to open the door, almost giving in as he keeps talking. “No.”

“Please, at least take the plants. You see, the pretty one is you, soft and sweet. The large, ugly beast is me, rough and grumpy. Even though they are so different, he loves the pretty orchid.” He sighs deeply. “And he hopes that the pretty flower loves him too…”

Walter listens closely. He sucks in a breath when you curse behind the door.

“Baby, I know about the baby,” Walter continues. “I know what I did and said was unforgivable, but please talk to me…”

[enbyfvcker]

[Through the phone]

Wade Wilson x Logan (worst!wolverine)

Word count: 1,4k

Summary/prompt: Logan isn't used to this technology thing, but he lets Wade gift him a phone to make him happy. Turns out he finds rather... enticing ways to use his new phone when Wade's away on a job and he's feeling extra needy.

Tags: Smut, established relationship, sub/dom undertones, soft!dom Wade, masturbation, praise kink, phone sex, Logan likes being talked through it.

Wade liked to drag Logan along with him for shopping like he usually does after receiving from his mercenary jobs. He liked spoiling his little kitty cat and buying him stuff.

Logan would say 'no' at first, but then Wade would insist and insist, and well, he was mostly bored anyway, so he eventually gives in. When it comes to Wade, Logan usually gives in.

They were both in their civvies: Logan wearing denim pants, a wife pleaser, and a flannel. All his clothes were bought by Wade after he moved in. He apparently seemed to know what Logan likes or not.

Wade was wearing a hoodie and with the hood over his head. Logan noticed that the merc still wasn't fully in his comfort zone when he went out in public without his suit because of his appearance. But he seemed to deal better with it - with all the stares - when Logan was there by his side.

Wade was strolling around with the cart filled with things (variating from cleaning products, towels, food, unicorm plushies...) while Logan follows behind him, his hands in his pockets.

Wade comes to a stop when they pass over the eletronics session, looking at all the mobiles on display.

"Hey, peanut?"

"Hm."

"You don't really have a phone, do you? Wanna pick one?" Wade asks with a grin.

"Why?"

"Well, isn't it inconvenient?"

"Not really... I can't think of a situation where I would need one. And I'm also not really good with... Technology and stuff."

"Oh, okay..." Wade pouts like a hurt child, and Logan rolls his eyes.

"What?"

"Well, what if you miss me one day when I'm out for a job and wanna talk to me? You could also always text Laura to check up on her sometimes." Wade suggests and gives a dramatic sigh. "But well, if you don't want it..."

Logan considers for a moment and grunts lowly as he walks to the phones on display and tries to pick one. Wade watches with sparkling eyes and a grin.

He didn't really know the difference between the damn things. There were so many models, so he just chose a random one and placed it in the cart.

"There."

"Yay! Can't wait to introduce you to the technology world. You might wanna stay away from Ao3, though... there's some pretty nasty stuff in there. I mean, I love 'em, don't get me wrong. But I don't think you'd be pleased with what our fans fantasize about us."

"The fuck are you talking about?" Logan asks with an raised eyebrow. He was used to Wade saying weird shit like that. Honestly, he should just stop trying to understand the guy.

"Nothing, princess! Let's check out, shall we?"

...

It took some teaching from Wade for Logan to understand how to use his new phone. He didn't really use it much, though. But Wade was right. It was nice being able to talk to Laura and hear about how she's doing more often. They would meet and hang out every couple week, but her life seemed pretty busy after she started college. So now they could always call each other to catch up.

Wade was also right about... Well, the other part.

Usually, Logan would come along with Wade to help with any missions, but sometimes Wade would just go alone.

It was dark outside already, and it has been some hours since Wade wasn't home. Times like that, when he’s bored and lonely, he craves a drink more than anything. It was really damn hard trying to stay sober.

He walks to Wade's room and lies on his stomach on the bed, grunting with a soft rumble on his chest.

He missed Wade.

God, he can't believe it.

The apartment was finally silent for once, and he missed Wade's stupid voice.

He feels ridiculous.

Logan sniffs on the pillows, smelling Wade's scent. He smelled like gun powder and strawberry lotion. He feels his cock harden at the scent and he groans with frustration, his cheeks a soft blush and his eyebrows furrowed. His fists clenches as he starts to rut slowly against he matress, feeling completely pathetic.

It wasn't enough.

He takes his phone from his pocket and turns on his back, dialing the third contact from alphabetic order from his list.

He only has 3:

Althea

Laura

Wade

It rings and rings, and Logan almost just cancels the call, but then he hears Wade's voice.

"Hi, peanut. Missing me already? I do, too, honey- Motherfucker! Have some manners, can't you see I'm on the phone!" Wade grunts in pain over the line after apparently taking a couple shots.

"Is this not a good time?" Logan asks with a low voice, his hand moving down his own abdomen.

"No, no, baby girl. I always have time for you." Logan feels his cock twitching at Wade's words, his breathing getting more elaborated. He could hear Wade grunting, probably in the middle of a fight. "Don't worry, as I soon as I wrap this up, I'm coming home to you, kitten."

Logan usually scowl and reprimanded Wade at the pet names he usually uses, but Wade could hear softs gasps over the line so quietly he almost misses it, and if he had any eyebrows, they'd be raised.

"Don't take long." Logan whispers, his voice hoarse as he palms himself over his boxers.

"What are you doing?" Wade asks with a clear grin on his voice, and Logan hears a few shotguns and screams.

"Talking to you." Logan replies bluntly. He couldn't help but let out a soft moan when he slipped his hand under his underwear to touch himself properly. He gives a couple slow strokes, biting his lip strongly enough to draw blood.

"Nothing more?"

"No..."

"Oh, my little honey badger, you're a terrible liar." Wade accuses, making Logan's cheeks flush harder. "Are you that needy, hm? Kitty can't wait for me to get home?"

Wade doesn't receive a response, only desperate whimpers that were clearly escaping through bitten lips. He runs his katana through a couple of criminals and chuckles to himself.

"So cute, princess. You just needed to hear my voice, didn't you? I bet you must be dripping all over my bed right now. Bad boy... Gotta train you to learn and wait for me."

"Wade..." Logan grunts, his hand moving faster at a steady rhythm, his eyed shut tightly as he imagines it is Wade's scarred hands on him. He rubs his thumb over his tip and whines.

"It's okay, baby. I'll let it slide this time. Be a good kitty and make yourself feel good, yes? You sound so pretty."

Logan moans louder at the praise, his cock twitching and leaking pre cum into his fingers. He starts rutting his hips up, fucking his fist at a desperate pace.

"Keep talking..." Logan half begs half commands, making Wade smirk under his mask as he dodges from a chair that hit the wall behind him.

"You know, for someone who's always telling me to shut up, you sure sound quite desperate for it right now. I know you love it, kitten, even if you won't admit it. I know you love hearing me say how good you are for me, how pretty you look when you're all messy and pliant under me, how much of a good fucking boy you are..."

Logan straight up whimpers.

"Are you gonna be a good boy for me and make a mess all over yourself, baby?"

"Wannabegood, wannabegood, wannabegood..." Logan babbles between needy moans, and Wade knew he was close.

"I know you do, princess." Wade shots the last one of the criminals and they drop dead to the floor along with the others. "Cum for me."

"Wade, fuck-!" He whines as he spills all over his fist and stomach, his back arching off the bed. He strokes himself through the aftershocks, his moans turning into heavy pants as he catches his breath. He feels a rush of embarrassment as his mind clears off, but then he hears Wade praising him.

"Good kitty. Alright, I'm done here." Wade says as he looks to all the bodies around him. "I'm coming home, darling! I have a boner the size of a lighthouse right now. It's really hard focusing on fighting like this."

Logan chuckles, his breathing still heavy. "Just come home already."

[pharawee]

Maybe it's because I don't mind unhappy or open endings, or maybe it's because I had no expectations whatsoever beyond being entertained, or maybe it's because I enjoy detective fiction a lot...

But I genuinely liked Spare Me Your Mercy beginning to end. I enjoyed the characters and the presentations of their struggles, flaws and convictions, and I also don't think that it's a mark of bad writing or narrative structuring when characters are unbending and stand by said convictions. I like how the outcome was inevitable pretty much from the beginning because every character was on a set trajectory. And I also liked how the "big bad" was unveiled/dealt with way before the show was over because Boss was never the real obstacle anyway.

Spare Me Your Mercy was never going to be a romantic thriller driven by character development, and personally I feel it's a bit unfair to judge the show by the standards of a completely different genre. To me it was a morality tale/crime thriller and imo it did a very good job in that regard. Plus, if you take Thai censorship laws/conventions into account it was never going to openly support Kan's approach to euthanasia. It was always going to end with the status quo being upheld. They went about as far as they could, given that this is a mainstream production aired nationally on television. I actually find it very refreshing that they tackled this topic at all, and I really appreciate that they were incredibly nuanced throughout all of it, from the inclusion of a living will (which is indeed a topic that surprisingly few people even know about) to the monk's approach, but also how it showed that loved ones too have every right and the room to disagree.

Because euthanasia shouldn't ever an easy topic. It should be discussed, always, even in countries like Switzerland and the Netherlands where it's already legal.

(This is also ultimately why I sided with Tiu/Wasan instead of Kan because, yeah, Kan did consensually ease the suffering of a lot of people and we as the audience know that he has the highest of moral standards - which is exactly why it's better to channel all of this into starting the democratic process of legalising it. Kan meant well, and maybe Kan was right, but you only need to look to Orn and Boss to see how easy these things go off the rails. Hell, even Kan slipped when he shot Boss in the back, and you can't justify that one at all.)

Plus, in the end I do think that Kan manipulated Wasan as much (or imo even more) as it was the other way around. To me a relationship based on so many fundamental lies was never going to be possible - which also explains the dissonance in their (romantic) behaviour. Attraction is easy (which is why I don't think it's far-fetched at all that they fell for each other) but sometimes love alone just isn't enough.

I won't begrudge anyone their dislike of the show or its characters. I think it's very valid especially given the sensitive nature of what euthanasia should and shouldn't be. It's just that I read so many disappointed and negative takes on the ending of the show in the past 24 hours that I wanted to add my own - and like I said, personally I enjoyed myself a lot (even if it's of course not a perfect show and there certainly are some details that feel very hamfisted and even harmful and stereotypical). To me, it's a well-made and narratively sound piece of television with interesting characters and an entertaining story, and I'm glad we finally got a good genre BL offering in the form of queer detective fiction.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

WED. WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONEEEEEE I’M GOING TO CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP THINKING ABOUT COWBOY JOEL 😭

I WANT HIM I NEED HIM I LOVE HIM

You thought you understood what last night was—anger, frustration, both of you taking it out on each other. But the way Joel touched you, the way he kissed you, the way he stayed silent afterward… none of it fits the narrative you’ve been telling yourself.

He’s totally smitten, Jesus Christ 🫠

“Joel’s snoring didn’t keep you up all night?”

Dude, it wasn’t the snoring, it was your brother’s big cock 😏

“I’d rather the ‘I told you so,’” you spit, hot and bitter. “Just say it. Whatever it is. You think I’m too young to know what I’m doing? Too soft? You think I’m a failure? Couldn’t handle the city, the job, the—”

Yeah, she’s me 🥲

When you’re satisfied he’s unhurt, you lead him into the pen and give him a scratch behind the ears. “You’re a good boy,” you whisper again, softly. “We’ll get it next time.”

Awww, the way she’s such a softie for Blue, so on brand for me, it’s just a different animal but the way she treats him is basically the same I treat my babygirl Brienne 🥹

Joel looks sincere, firm. “Desperation’s just another word for fightin’ for what you need.”

This is such a beautiful sentence and so true, ugh my heart ❤️

You look up at him. Feeling exposed, like you’re holding the ugliest parts of you in your palms for him to see. “You think so?”

And here’s another poetic image I love so much 🥲 God, how you even came up with this sentence, it’s so perfect

“You’re tougher than most people I know. And contrary to what you think, I respect the hell outta you for it.”

Awwww please, giggling and kicking my feet 🥹

You’ve spent so long chasing your own impossible standards.

Fighting for your dad’s stoic approval. Suffocating under the weight of other people’s judgment.

You looked into my head and wrote that, right? WTF 😭

He shifts, his hand brushing yours lightly, and the air between you feels thick. “Took me a long time to learn how to ask for help or accept it. Still ain’t perfect at it neither,” it comes out like a confession. “But there’s nothing weak about it. And there’s nothin’ more attractive than a woman who’s not afraid to try, fail, and try again.”

He’s so precious, I can’t even stop, I’m YEARNING

His movements are unhurried. He steps closer to you. He’s so large in the small space. Not intimidating, but stabilizing.

Joel is exactly this for me, my rock, my loyal guy, my everything 🥹

His hand settles on your waist, pulling you close as the kiss deepens. There’s no resistance. You’re pliable and willing. He moves with you naturally, like your mouths were always meant to find each other. He holds you like you’re a treasure, a prize, a wonder. Precious.

OMG 😭🫠

“You have no idea how much I crave this. Crave you. In every way.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. The reverence in his tone makes your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but smile.

JESUS FUCK ❤️‍🔥

Everything you use to protect yourself falls away as you let his words soak in. You couldn’t hide from him if you wanted to. He’s not just taking—he’s giving, pouring every ounce of admiration and desire he feels for you into each moment. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself take it in, let yourself believe it.

Look how I’m going to cry for smut, just wait for it, this is so perfect 🥲🥲🥲

You wonder if you should feel more vulnerable being naked beneath him while he’s still fully clothed. But instead, it feels empowering—like this moment belongs to you just as much as it does to him; like every touch and kiss is a promise steeped in devotion.

Ok, I want this or nothing, it's the sexiest thing in the world

He knows exactly what you need next. Filling you with his fingers while he wraps his lips over your clit. The wet noises of his fingers pumping into you are obscene-–but they're nothing compared to the moan you make when you see the way his hips are desperately rutting into the mattress between your legs.

The sight of him losing control, his own need so evident and unrestrained, sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He’s giving so much of himself to you with every movement. It’s not just his mouth or his hands—it’s the way he wants you, completely and utterly, like he’s been holding it back for ages.

This is so fucking HOT, he’s so desperate, I’m going insane 🥵🥵🥵

Your head shakes slightly, determination building even in your post-release haze. “Joel. Now.”

🫠🫠🫠

“You’re gonna get me, baby. All of me. Gonna fill you so deep you’ll never forget it.”

Yes, please, I need this right now

“Fuck,” he pauses after barely pushing into you. His eyes slam shut for a moment before he inches deeper into you, slower than you thought possible. “You take me like it’s what you’re meant for.” His eyes stay locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face.

You take me like it’s what you’re meant for… I JUST CAN’T WHY HE’S LIKE THAT ❤️‍🔥

“Feel that?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m gonna stay, sweetheart. Right here, fillin’ you up.”

You can stay inside me 24/7, I don’t mind, I’m going to live the rest of my life with you inside.

You watch, as he instructed, until you look back up to his face. He’s so vocal, so confident with every word—but his face is equal parts hungry and wrecked. Fucked out. Drunk on you.

OH MY GOD PLS 🫠

Joel sits across from you, his knee brushing yours under the table. You catch him watching you over the rim of his coffee cup, his lips twitching into a barely concealed smile when your eyes meet.

He’s so damn cute 🥹

“It’s better when you’ve got good company,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile.

oh please, with you by my side I could look at a landfill and find it romantic, I’m not even joking

The thought that this wasn’t just a playful gesture but a quiet claim sends a flutter through your chest.

Awwww OMG I’m going insaneeee

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, sharing quiet conversation. Joel’s small acts of service don’t go unnoticed—handing you a napkin before you realize you need one, making sure your drink stays full, brushing crumbs off your sleeve with a casual intimacy that feels like it’s always been there.

Again, this is so damn cute, so on brand for Joel. He provides, he protects, he’s the man I love and I need 😭

You expect to see something flare in his eyes bringing up Cody, reminding you of the way he looked at you the first night you came back to the trailer. But, you take his hand and he’s only projecting pride and confidence. It makes you stand taller, knowing he’s a secure man.

Heheheheheh 🥰

He takes a deep breath, his hand shifting to fully cover yours. “I’m sayin’ I want something real with you. Not just sneakin’ moments or pretendin’ it don’t matter. I want to see where this goes.”

Yas, baby 🥹

Awww, this made me so full of love and content, it was exactly what I needed!

And I love that you wrote a softer Joel, he’s so damn perfect, he made me all fuzzy and stupidly happy awww he’s so precious 🥹❤️

This will definitely become one of my comfort fics, you did an amazing job and I loved everything, these two are incredible characters and your writing??? Excuse me, miss, are you trying to kill me, make me so aroused I can’t even stand it and make me cry all at once? 😭❤️‍🔥

Thanks for sharing your art with us!

right kind of dream (joel miller x f!reader) part two

wc: 9k | other fics | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 | PART ONE HERE summary: part two of 'right kind of dream': rebuilding your life, chasing, cans, and hitchin' a ride to the rodeo with team roper joel

a/n: i battled five million error messages to deliver this bad boy so if something is weird or it seems like paragraphs are missing... they might be. i think some formatting got lost. i'll put the whole thing on ao3 asap. i am unsure what i've done to anger the tumblr hq but i apologize

@katiexpunk : here is part two, thank you for being patient, i hope the wait was worth it <3 tags: modern cowboy joel au/ team roper joel and tommy, no sarah, enemies to lovers, dbf lite, choose your own age gap, small town romance, city girl returns to the country, miscommunication, horsegirl!joel, smut, ridin' that cowboy bareback as the good lord intended, no beta-mistakes are my fault for writing at 4am and for spending the afternoon fighting god to get this website to accept me thanks to: @syd-djarin, @auteurdelabre, and @lovely-vamp-princess for support, eyes, and ideas, etc.

Joel wakes you up while it’s still dark, pulling your shirt over your head and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Sleep,” he mutters in a gravelly whisper.

The ache in your body is a stark reminder of everything Joel did to you. Every movement as you roll over sends a sharp jolt through your muscles, and the hollow soreness deep inside you leaves you raw.

For a moment, you lie still, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment—the way he touched you, the way he looked at you. You can still feel him, the shape he carved out inside of you.

He said nothing. He didn’t gloat, didn’t tease, didn’t even try to explain. The silence felt heavier than any of his words ever could.

You can hear him outside, feeding the horses. You give in, curling up under the blanket for another hour until you figure you might miss your chance for fresh coffee from the visitor tent.

You pull on clothes, feeling hungover with anxiety twisting in your gut. Your head spins and your chest feels tight, but you march toward the picnic tables and get yourself coffee and breakfast.

You aren’t sure what the fuck you’re supposed to do now. You sit at a table, a cup of coffee cradled in your hands, your head pounding as though you’d downed a bottle of whiskey the night before. The anxiety sits heavy in your chest, each sip of coffee doing little to loosen its grip.

You thought you understood what last night was—anger, frustration, both of you taking it out on each other. But the way Joel touched you, the way he kissed you, the way he stayed silent afterward… none of it fits the narrative you’ve been telling yourself.

You glance across the grounds, your eyes catching on Joel’s familiar silhouette near the fence. He’s leaning against the rail, his dark eyes scanning the crowd, but the moment his gaze lands on you, something shifts.

Your breath catches, the air between you thick and suffocating even from across the distance. Joel tips his head slightly, a subtle acknowledgment, but it only tightens the knot in your chest.

You tear your eyes away, focusing on the coffee in your hands, but the weight of his gaze lingers, pressing into you like a brand.

You keep your distance, avoiding Joel as you move through the motions of the morning ignoring the questions and confusion gnawing at you.

The sun climbs higher, the dry heat pressing down like a heavy blanket, but the rodeo grounds are alive with movement. Dust clings to the back of your throat, blending with the faint, bitter taste of coffee as you linger near the edge of the action, pretending to watch.

You’re halfway to convincing yourself Joel’s not even here when you hear Tommy’s voice. He’s leaning on the fence, one boot propped on the bottom rail, his arm resting loosely on the top. A beautiful woman stands beside him, gorgeous with bold makeup and tight jeans, her dark hair catching the light. She laughs at something Tommy says, swatting at his chest, and he grins down at her like she’s the only person in the world.

You almost keep walking, but Tommy glances up and catches your eye, his grin widening as he waves you over. He calls your name in an easy, smooth tone.

“Morning,” you say stiffly, stopping a few paces away.

The woman glances between you and Tommy, murmuring something to him before she wanders off toward the trailers. Tommy doesn’t miss a beat, tipping his hat to you with that same infuriating grin.

“You sleep alright?”

“What?” you gape at him before rushing to fix your face.

“Joel’s snoring didn’t keep you up all night?”

“Oh.” You shake your head. “No, slept fine. Thanks.”

He gives you another smile, and you move to lean on the fence watching the arena with him. He cocks his head, his eyes still on you.

“You worried about runnin’ Blue?” His voice is warm and light. His dark eyes sparkle with his natural charm, but it’s a genuine question.

You peel the edge of the paper coffee cup, looking past Tommy toward the warmup pen. “Yeah, I guess.” You give him a half smile. “We aren’t gunning for the NFR or anything, though.”

“Somethin’ else weighing on you, darlin’?”

You shake your head. Not willing to reveal anything else. “Heard you were up late partying with the roughstock boys and their fan club,” you accuse in a joking tone, attempting to redirect the conversation. “You aren’t worried about your own round?”

He laughs deeply at that. “Nah, that’s what a heeler’s for,” he says. “I just gotta be in the box on time. Joel’s the one that keeps us winnin’.”

“He’s not a partier?” You didn’t mean to dig, but the question slipped out anyway.

Tommy turns his head towards you, but you keep staring out at the arena, watching the crew setting up the barrels for the first division.

He studies you for a long moment, his grin softening into something closer to curiosity. “Joel’s not like me. Not really.” Your brow furrows. The words twist in your chest, setting your thoughts spinning. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tommy chuckles again, but there’s something unreadable in his eyes. “Let’s just say, Joel’s always had his head screwed on tighter than mine. Even when he didn’t.” You stare at him, trying to unravel the meaning behind his words, but Tommy just grins. “Joel’s a loyal kinda guy, y’know? Don’t mean he’s blind, though.” He gives you a wink and you feel heat flooding your face. “Just means he wrestles with it longer than the rest of us would.” You scowl at him for that. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Did Joel tell him? Does he know what happened? He shrugs. “Just means you’re a hell of a distraction,” Tommy says, tipping his hat. You laugh it off, but his words linger, your mind racing with questions you’re not ready to ask. You whip your head away again as if staring at the tractor raking the arena can save you from the conversation. But Tommy notices.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tease or prod, but you can feel the weight of his gaze as you swallow hard, your thoughts spiraling. Before you can respond, someone calls his name from across the grounds. Tommy tips his hat one last time. “Good luck out there, neighbor,” he says, his voice light but laced with something heavier. “Don’t let that head of yours get in the way.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you standing alone, your thoughts spinning, your chest burning. You push off the fence and find yourself a spot on the bleachers. They’re dusty and worn. The boards creak as you settle into a spot near the edge. You watch the first few runs.

The riders move with precision, their horses cut through the dirt with sharp, clean turns. The announcer’s voice booms over the speakers, calling names and times, but it fades into the background as you watch.

Everywhere you look, there’s something that reminds you of Joel.

The set of someone’s shoulders as they lean against the fence, the low timbre of a voice nearby, a black felt hat in the corner of your eye. You try to banish the worry and the panic creeping in.

You remember the way he watched you train with Blue. The way he offered advice that sounded more like a challenge. The way his voice cut through the air like he knew more than you. The way he looked at you last night. The raw unguarded expression you’ve never seen before.

You hate the way he makes you feel small and uncertain. You hate the way you can’t stop thinking about him.

You can’t stop remembering the way his hands felt on your skin or his tongue. The heat in his voice and the way he saw through every lie you told.

The sound of someone hitting the dirt makes you snap your head up just as the crowd around you gasps.

In the arena, a horse stands, saddle hanging nearly sideways off of it. A rider scrambles to their feet, brushing dirt from their jeans with a wave. They lead their horse out of the arena and you can hear folks around you murmuring that their latigo broke and their saddle slipped as they turned for home. The horse and the rider are both fine, but your nerves flare.

You know the risks of the sport. But it makes you head back to the trailer early to inspect all of your tack closely for anything faulty. From across the grounds, Joel watches you. He stands near the holding pen, arms crossed over his chest. You haven’t seen him yet. Not really. Not in the way he sees you.

He can feel the tension in your shoulders as you walk, the way you crush the paper coffee cup in your hand.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t call out to you.

He doesn’t trust himself to. He shouldn’t have touched you last night. Shouldn’t have let his jealousy boil over. Shouldn’t have taken it that far. But now, standing here, all he could think about was the way you felt underneath him. The way you said his name like he was the only thing holding you together. And the way he needs to hear it again.

By the time your division gets called to warm up, you’ve eased your worries about your tack but you’re still swimming in Joel thoughts until you swing your leg over the saddle and settle on Blue’s back.

Then the rest of the world disappears. Your ride starts off smooth, but Blue’s sensitivity is a curse and a blessing. You figure he must be picking up on some anxiety as he gets a little hot, tossing his head and pulling on the reins when you try to bring him down to a jog.

You work out most of the kinks, circling and working on transitions until he feels supple and responsive to your seat and legs. Your nerves and the energy of the other horses still have his ears swiveling and his head perked up as you wait for the rider ahead of you to be called.

You can see most of their run, it’s smooth and they put up a good time. You squeeze your calves asking Blue to head toward the alleyway, but he’s springloaded.

You hold him back as he crow hops sideways for a beat before you’re backing him up. You try making a slow circle before heading in but he’s still jigging with short, bouncy steps like he’s ready to explode.

You’re tense, holding him back and trying to stay calm, making one more circle when he starts hopping again. You can feel eyes on you from the people standing near the gate. Before you can make another circle Joel is striding towards you with swift long steps.

He grabs Blue by the bridle, speaking directly to him in a calming, low voice. You glare at him reactively, but the words die before you can formulate them.

Blue’s jittering slows and Joel leads you up the alley toward the arena. His steps are sure and confident as he guides you. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to snap at him and tell him you don’t need his help. The truth is you do.

“Go get ‘em,” he says quietly, turning to you.

You gather your reins, giving him a tight nod to signal you’re ready. He lets go and steps back. Your heart pounds as you encourage Blue to push off into a lope.

The moment you cross the starting line, everything else fades.

The noise. The nerves. Even Joel. It all melts away. Just you and Blue and the rhythm of his hooves pounding against the soft dirt.

The first barrel comes fast. You guide him into a tight turn, pushing him to pick it up toward the next. His lead change is smooth as you shift your weight, leaning into the next tight turn. You’ve got your body facing the final barrel before Blue pushes off with his powerful hind legs.

You thunder toward the last barrel. His strides are strong and controlled. You’ve just gotta make this last turn without taking it too wide or knocking the barrel over.

Blue doesn’t forget his training, bending around your leg, picking up his shoulder, and you’ve got one stride left in the turn before you’re free to haul ass home.

You’ve got this.

You’ve got this.

You don’t got this.

The footing is deeper than the arena you run at on Thursday nights. Blue’s hooves slide in the loose dirt. His balance faltering. Time slows and you feel his weight tipping. There’s nothing to do but brace for the impact. His body hits the dirt in a controlled, almost graceful fall.

You hit the ground with a dull thud, the breath knocked out of you as you scramble back giving Blue room to pop back up. He shakes off the dirt, your stirrups slapping at his side and the reins nearly coming over his ears. His eyes are wide, but he stands waiting for your direction.

You catch your breath, chest still heaving from the shock. You dust the dirt off your jeans and wave off the grounds person jogging toward you. “I’m fine,” you call. “We’re fine.” Your voice is steady, but your chest feels like it’s caving in.

You pull his reins over his head and walk toward the end of the arena, keeping your head up and patting Blue on the neck. The crowd claps expressing support and relief that you’re both walking.

Hot, angry tears blur your vision by the time you get to the alley.

You don’t see Joel, staring at the ground as you walk, but you hear him hustling toward you calling your name. His boots crunch against the dirt as he matches your pace.

“You okay?” he asks, low and concerned.”

“Fine,” you snap, not looking at him as you speed up, pulling Blue along faster.

“It was a good-looking run you had going,” Joel says, his tone soft. “You two looked great, making good time. You can’t help the shitty footing—”

“I don’t need your pity,” you cut him off, sharp but trembling. “Not now.”

You don’t see the way his face tightens. The anger is spilling out, uncontrollable, and you don’t care if it cuts.

“I’d rather the ‘I told you so,’” you spit, hot and bitter. “Just say it. Whatever it is. You think I’m too young to know what I’m doing? Too soft? You think I’m a failure? Couldn’t handle the city, the job, the—”

“Hey, easy.” He tries to interrupt you gently, like a spooked horse. “Nothing like that.”

“You think I’m dumb, too?” You keep jabbing him with questions as you get closer to the trailer, not caring if anyone else hears. “Just another woman that fell into your bed at another rodeo.”

“Enough,” Joel says steady and low, but you don’t hear him.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rumors,” you snap, your voice cracking. “Didn’t think they were true, to be honest. Didn’t seem like you. Guess I don’t really know you though, do I?”

Joel’s jaw tightens, his dark eyes flashing with hurt, but you’re too far gone to notice.

“You know, maybe I was stupid.” Your voice shakes as tie Blue at the trailer to untack. “But for a while, I thought I was finally starting to feel like myself out here. Like I was where I was supposed to be. And now—” Your words catch in your throat. Tears streaming down your face. You shake your head, stopping yourself from revealing anything else. You turn away from Joel and start running your hands along Blue’s legs to check for any swelling from the fall.

Joel doesn’t move for a long beat. He stands rigid, watching you wrestle with your emotions as you work. Finally, Joel exhales sharply, running a hand over his face. His voice is tight when he speaks. “I’ll leave you be.”

He walks away before you can respond, his footsteps heavy against the dirt. Your shoulders sag as the adrenaline starts to wear off, leaving behind the hollow ache of exhaustion. Your hands tremble as you finish untacking and brushing Blue, but you keep moving, your touch soft against his sweat-damp coat. “You did nothing wrong,” you murmur.

Fresh tears pool in your eyes. “You’re a good boy, Blue. You did exactly what we practiced.” Blue snorts softly, his ears flicking back toward you, and you lean into him, pressing your forehead against the warm curve of his neck. “I was the one who fucked up,” you admit, your words muffled against his dark coat. The truth spills out in quiet, broken pieces.

“I should’ve been watching the other riders closer this morning. Should’ve caught how deep the footing was at the far barrel.”

Your voice drops to a whisper. “Instead of thinking about how I could still feel his hands on me. Or wondering if he’s thinking about me.”

The confession hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken. Blue shifts beneath you, his weight leaning into your side like he knows you need the grounding.

You pull back, wiping at your face quickly before running your hands over Blue one more time, checking for any swelling or signs of injury. You move methodically, your touch steady despite the way your chest feels like it’s caving in.

When you’re satisfied he’s unhurt, you lead him into the pen and give him a scratch behind the ears. “You’re a good boy,” you whisper again, softly. “We’ll get it next time.”

The afternoon stretched on at the rodeo, the sun climbing high and unrelenting.

You do your best to avoid the temptation to look for Joel, though he somehow has a way of being everywhere and nowhere all at once. Mostly it was false alarms and your eyes playing tricks on you. But once or twice you saw him watching other events. He never seemed to notice you, or if he did he gave no indication.

You hadn’t decided if you were avoiding him out of anger, shame, or if it was because the thought of being near him again after last night still made your chest ache in a way you didn’t want to examine. You’re still burying that last thought somewhere deep when you catch the flash of Joel’s red mare striding through the arena.

You can see Joel and Tommy putting their horses through some practice just past the main arena.

Your lips press together into a thin line as you watch them. Joel has a different aura about him when he’s in the saddle. He seems lighter somehow. Relaxed, but with a quiet command. He guides his horse in a way that looks effortless. His body moving in perfect harmony with hers. Tommy’s horse was a little snappier, making quick sharp turns. The pair of riders worked together naturally, movements fluid and precise as they get their practice in.

It was mesmerizing. Infuriatingly so.

You leaned back, trying to tear your gaze away, but your eyes betrayed you, drawn back to continue admiring him. The longer you watch the more it stirs up something unwelcome in your chest. You can’t keep letting him occupy so much space in your mind or your memories.

He’s proven time and again that he doesn’t respect you. He didn’t even argue when you laid it all out in your outburst after your run. He just walked away from you.

But there’s something in the way he carries himself. Something in the way he rides, the way he works with his horse, that hints at something different than what you know. Something that makes you curious.

You blink, realizing Joel’s head was turned toward the bleachers. For a second you think his eyes are on you and you quickly look away. When you glance back he’s already turned his attention back to something else.

Embarrassment wraps around your throat. This is why you had to avoid him. His presence alone seems to demand every ounce of your attention without even trying.

Before you can drown in your own emotional turmoil, an unfamiliar voice calls your name.

You see Cody waving a few rows down and give him a polite smile before agreeing to join him and his friends. Spending the rest of the evening with them feels like a safety buffer.

You don’t see Joel or Tommy when you get dinner. You watch some of the evening events before splitting from the group to check on Blue.

It’s nearly dark as you walk through the grounds. Your chest feels tighter with every step you take as you approach.

You’re hoping you don’t run into Joel—or Tommy and his knowing eyes. You let yourself into the pen, the noise from the announcer and the crowd are muffled by the distance.

There was a stillness in the dusk and the horses were calm.

Blue’s head swivels toward you as you approach. You pause to untie the braid in his tail before stepping between him and Joel’s horse. It’s not until that moment that you realize you aren’t alone. You freeze when your eyes land on Joel. He’s standing between his horse and yours, posture relaxed. The external light on the horse trailer casts shadows over his face making it hard to read his eyes.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say softly. “I didn’t know you were here.”

He responds with a small shrug and shake of his head. “Nothing to interrupt.”

You still feel frozen, like concrete had been poured around your feet. You’ve been carrying the weight of your earlier outburst in your shoulders, and the rest of your muscles are still stiff from hitting the dirt earlier. Maybe that’s why your defenses feel lower, or maybe something else has shifted, but the next words come out before you have a real plan.

“Look, about earlier,” you start with more confidence than you feel. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It wasn’t fair.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, gaze fixed on Blue who huffs a warm breath out after nudging Joel’s pocket in search of a treat. When he finally speaks, it’s quiet but firm.

“You had every right to be upset.”

You frown at that, a line pulling between your brows in confusion, and you shake your head. “No, I didn’t. I was angry, frustrated with myself, and I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve that.”

He works his jaw like he’s mulling something over, before letting out a sigh. You move closer to give Blue a scratch under his jaw. The spot that always makes him wiggle his lip. You see Joel’s expression softening.

“I’ve been where you are,” he says finally. “Trying to rebuild somethin’ when it feels like the world’s stacked against you. Trying to remember who you are. What matters most.”

You tilt your head, curiosity pulling at you. His words sound familiar for a moment. That conversation you’d had after stacking hay. “When you bought the property from my dad?”

He nods. “Bought the place after my ex split. Had to sell the business. Start over. Build somethin’ from scratch while trying to figure out what the hell my life was supposed to look like.”

“It’s not as simple as it sounds,” you echo your past statement. He laughs a short, humorless sound.

“Sure ain’t. I know I made mistakes along the way.”

You stay quiet, letting the words hang in the air.

“It’s easy to get yourself a reputation in a small town,” he continues, tinged with regret. “I spent a while chasing somethin’ I couldn’t even name. Thought I could skip the pain with sex, drinking, and spending every weekend hauling to any rodeo I could afford the entrance fees for.”

His confession sinks over you, and you feel a pang of understanding.

“Took a while to figure it that it wasn’t working. Wasn’t who I was… or who I wanted to be.”

“I get that,” you say softly. You drop your gaze, not quite sure how to say it. “Not the same circumstances, but,” you take a slow breath, “I had a reputation back at my old job. It wasn’t true but it didn’t matter. Once people decide who you are, it’s like there’s nothing you can do to change it.

You feel his eyes on you. “That why you came out here?”

“Sort of.” You run your hand under Blue’s mane, feeling the warmth of his body grounding you.

“Hated the job. Spent a lot of time and money in school to get there, and I dreaded going to the office every day.” You swallow thickly, still not sure you can look Joel in the eye.

“Then my engagement fell apart. The more we tried to split up our lives the more I realized none of it was my life. None of it was me. I didn’t know myself anymore. I didn’t know what mattered.”

“Takes guts to start over,” Joel says with a current of finality about it. Like it’s a fact. “Most people wouldn’t have the nerve.”

His words warm something deep inside of you, but they also make your eyes well up. You blink away the tears before you look to Joel’s face. His eyes are steady on yours. You offer a small smile.

“Feels less like guts and more like desperation most of the time.”

Joel looks sincere, firm. “Desperation’s just another word for fightin’ for what you need.”

A heavy lump in your throat makes it difficult to respond, but you push yourself to be vulnerable. “I came out here to figure myself out and to do it on my own. I wanted to prove it to myself. But, then today, I got so caught up in my own head that I almost got us both hurt.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” he says quietly.

“I should’ve been paying better attention. Should’ve asked the other riders about the footing. Or—” your voice cracks and you pause to slow down your spiraling thoughts.

Joel moves closer, his presence solid. Anchoring. “You’re hard on yourself,” he says it soft, but firm. “You’ve got grit. You work your ass off. That’s what matters.”

You look up at him. Feeling exposed, like you’re holding the ugliest parts of you in your palms for him to see. “You think so?”

“I know so. I see you. The way you handle Blue, the balance you strike with your dad, the way you work twice as hard as most folks at a part-time job and still have time to learn the names of every old farmer in 50 miles that comes in once a month.”

You laugh at that, feeling something warm blooming in your chest. His eyes soften, and you’re drawn to the lines on his face.

“I’ve seen the way you push yourself even when you’re tired, the way you’re determined to bring out the best in yourself and others. Even those of us with a history.” He runs his hand along the scar tissue on Blue’s shoulder. The horse that broke a girl’s jaw.

“You’re tougher than most people I know. And contrary to what you think, I respect the hell outta you for it.”

His words hit harder than you expect, and you feel like your ribs have been pulled open, exposing your heart and soul in the moonlight.

You’ve spent so long chasing your own impossible standards.

Fighting for your dad’s stoic approval. Suffocating under the weight of other people’s judgment.

Hearing Joel’s praise feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders.

“Joel,” you start, but your voice falters. The way he’s looking at you feels intense. Almost too much. You can feel your heart beating against your chest.

He shifts, his hand brushing yours lightly, and the air between you feels thick. “Took me a long time to learn how to ask for help or accept it. Still ain’t perfect at it neither,” it comes out like a confession. “But there’s nothing weak about it. And there’s nothin’ more attractive than a woman who’s not afraid to try, fail, and try again.”

The slip in his voice–the raw, unguarded admiration–sends a flush of heat through you. Shit. The praise was already overwhelming, but the way he’s looking at you now—it’s too much. Or not enough.

His centering presence somehow has you rocked off balance.

Suddenly you’re closer, the space between you charged. Humming like one of the generators at the other campsites.

His hand brushes your cheek, gentle but deliberate. Your breath catches in your throat. Everything that has been simmering between you feels like it’s about to boil over.

The rest of the rodeo disappears. Standing there in the moonlight, the world around you dissolves into quiet, only his gravity pulling you closer.

Joel’s hand lingers just long enough on your cheek to make heat crawl up your neck and coil in your belly. Before you can close the distance he pulls back, clearing his throat and stepping away. He moves slowly and deliberately, giving you space to retreat if you want to.

But you don’t.

Instead, you follow him out of the pen, your feet carrying you toward the trailer without thought.

The silence between you is loud, not uncomfortable but full of unspoken words and feelings, each step drawing you toward something you haven’t named yet. When he opens the door and gestures for you to step inside, the creak of the hinges feels impossibly loud.

Inside, the trailer is layered in soft shadows from the glow of a warm lamp. Joel closes the door behind you, and the quiet feels delicate. He stands a few paces away, his hat in hand, his eyes scanning your face as though searching for any sign of doubt.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and careful.

When you find your voice, it’s softer than you expected. “Yeah.”

The corners of his mouth lift just slightly, and the warmth in his eyes eases some of the nervous energy bouncing around in your chest. He hangs his hat on the hook near the door. The image of him reaching past you to hang it on the same hook last night flares in your mind and buzzes through your skin.

His movements are unhurried. He steps closer to you. He’s so large in the small space. Not intimidating, but stabilizing.

“Earlier,” he begins, “when I said I respect the hell outta you… I meant it.”

He takes your hand in his, his fingers warm and solid. Your senses are heightened from the emotionally raw conversation, from his touch, and the warm, spiced scent of him wrapping around you. “I see how hard you’ve worked, how much you’ve sacrificed to be here. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with awe.

“And you’ve got no idea how much I—”

He cuts himself off, searching your face. His breath is warm, so close to your face. His lips look soft, so close to yours.

You close the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that’s nothing like the night before. It’s tender. Slow. Sprawling. Unspoken affection passes between you with the slip of your tongues and the soft sounds in your throat.

Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, every thought and worry dissolving into the sensation of your lips on his. Softer than he ever let himself imagine, a sweetness he didn’t think he deserved. The warmth of you seeps into him, steadying him even as it sends electricity down his spine.

His hand settles on your waist, pulling you close as the kiss deepens. There’s no resistance. You’re pliable and willing. He moves with you naturally, like your mouths were always meant to find each other. He holds you like you’re a treasure, a prize, a wonder. Precious.

So soft, he thinks, his thumb grazing the curve of your waist. Every inch of you pressed against him feels like fire and solace all at once. His other hand roams over your back, the delicate shift of muscle beneath his palm grounding him in the reality that you’re here, with him.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, but there’s no space left between you. His palm glides down your spine, lighting you from within. When you break apart, softly breathing in each other’s air, his forehead rests against yours, eyes dark and soft as they hold your gaze.

“You have no idea how much I crave this. Crave you. In every way.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. The reverence in his tone makes your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but smile.

“I might have some idea,” you reply, your voice just as quiet, but your smile grows wider.

Then he kisses you again, this time with more urgency, his hands moving to your hips and guiding you toward the bed. His touch is everywhere, his lips tracing a path from your mouth to your jaw, down the curve of your neck, each kiss making you feel lighter and warmer.

He continues to pour his confessions into your skin between each article of clothing he pulls off of you. "I thought I’d never have this. Never have you. But here you are, and you’re perfect." The words spill out of him unbidden, each one carrying a weight he’s carried for far too long. His hands tremble slightly as he leaves a wet trail of kisses down your clavicle, between the swell of your breasts, over the smooth fabric of your bra.

"I used to hate that I wanted you, that I thought about having you like this. But I don’t want to stop, sweetheart.” He unclasps your bra and slips the straps over your shoulders, replacing the cups with his palms, kneading your plush flesh. The warmth of your skin beneath his hands sends sparks through him, and he leans in, brushing his lips over the sensitive peaks.

“Don’t want you to stop,” you murmur back. He hums in response to you, rolling your nipples between his fingers before taking his time mouthing, sucking, licking at each of them until you moan and arch toward him.

“I spent too many nights trying not to think about you,” he confesses, his voice dipping lower. “And cursing myself for it.” He shifts down, between your legs to pull your jeans off. It feels like he’s just handed you a piece of himself you didn’t expect to see. The idea of him, alone and thinking about you, shifts something in your mind. It’s not just desire he carries for you. Is it something deeper?

He runs his hands along your bare legs, warm against your smooth skin. He already looks wrecked and he’s still fully clothed. You reach for him, but he shakes his head, dipping to line another path of kisses down your belly, to the sensitive skin inside the top of your thighs. His lips press against your skin, reverent, as if trying to memorize the feel of you beneath him.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with need. His admiration and desire are intense, making you feel stripped bare in an emotional way. He’s not just saying it; he means it in a way that feels different from casual compliments.

Everything you use to protect yourself falls away as you let his words soak in. You couldn’t hide from him if you wanted to. He’s not just taking—he’s giving, pouring every ounce of admiration and desire he feels for you into each moment. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself take it in, let yourself believe it.

The heat of his touch and the need in his eyes have your core aching for attention. His breath ghosting over your swollen cunt makes you shudder with need.

When his lips press against the thin fabric still covering you, you arch into him. You feel him smile against you, breathing deeply before he slides his hands beneath your thighs, cupping your ass to tilt your hips before he descends again.

He kisses and sucks at your clit through your soaked panties without a care for the lewd sounds filling the small room. He doesn’t stop. It’s warm and wet, and the pressure makes you feel needy. You roll your hips seeking more contact, and he moans against you, the sound vibrating through you causing you to gasp and call out his name.

He looks up at you before pulling your underwear off and pausing to stare at your glistening cunt, before taking all of you in. His eyes dart to your face, all of your exposed skin, and back to your eyes.

“I never thought I’d actually get to touch you. To kiss you. Taste you like this.” His voice is hoarse, barely audible over the sound of your breath.

“Please, Joel.” He’s like a dream between your legs. His mouth, his tongue, his hands, his fingers. He uses everything with expert precision, bringing you closer and closer and erasing every worry, every stress.

You wonder if you should feel more vulnerable being naked beneath him while he’s still fully clothed. But instead, it feels empowering—like this moment belongs to you just as much as it does to him; like every touch and kiss is a promise steeped in devotion.

His hips press into the mattress involuntarily, seeking relief for his throbbing cock as he continues to worship you with his mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair as he dips his tongue inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” Your voice is hoarse and ragged already.

He knows exactly what you need next. Filling you with his fingers while he wraps his lips over your clit. The wet noises of his fingers pumping into you are obscene-–but they're nothing compared to the moan you make when you see the way his hips are desperately rutting into the mattress between your legs.

The sight of him losing control, his own need so evident and unrestrained, sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He’s giving so much of himself to you with every movement. It’s not just his mouth or his hands—it’s the way he wants you, completely and utterly, like he’s been holding it back for ages.

It tips you over the edge, chanting his name like a prayer as your release crashes through you. Your walls contract around his fingers and your muscles tense as he groans into your wet flesh before pulling back.

“That’s it,” he murmurs from between your legs, “you did good for me, baby. You’re so good for me.”

You’re boneless as the words melt into you. But you know you wanted to say something before he made your vision blur.

Your breath comes in slow, uneven waves as you blink at the ceiling, reality slowly settling back into your body. He’s watching you, his eyes dark and heavy with affection and need, and you realize the thought that had slipped away moments ago was this: you need to feel him, to see him.

“Joel,” you manage, your voice low and hoarse, your fingers brushing weakly at his forearm. He raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk touching his lips as he leans closer.

“What is it, baby?”

You swallow hard, the words tangled in your throat as you try to gather your strength. “Off,” you rasp, fingers tugging weakly at the fabric of his shirt.

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he leans down to kiss your temple. “Gimme a minute, sweetheart. Let me make sure you’re all right first.”

Your head shakes slightly, determination building even in your post-release haze. “Joel. Now.”

Something in your voice snaps the tension in him. His jaw tightens, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt in one smooth motion, tugging it over his head.

The sight of him leaves you breathless. Broad shoulders tapering to a firm waist, his skin golden and littered with scars and years of hard work. He looks wrecked, his chest rising and falling as though he’s been holding himself back for too long.

“Goddamn,” you whisper, as your mouth hangs open. Your gaze drops lower, taking in the soft lines of his abdomen, and the trail of dark hair leading to the waistband of his jeans.

And then, as he unbuttons them and pushes them down, his cock springs free, thick and flushed and so fucking perfect it sends a scalding wave of desire rolling through you.

You’re expression fills Joel with pride. The hunger in your eyes makes his cock twitch, the intensity of your gaze threatening to knock him over right there.

You sit up slightly, your hand reaching for him, but he catches your wrist gently, shaking his head. “Not like that,” he murmurs, his voice rough as gravel. He eases you back onto the mattress, his hands warm and firm against your hips. “Not this time, baby.”

You whine softly, your need pulsing through every word. “Please, fuck, I need you.”

His pupils blow wide, his breathing uneven as he settles between your legs. “You need me?” he repeats, his tone darkening, the words laced with a feral edge that makes you dizzy.

“You’re gonna get me, baby. All of me. Gonna fill you so deep you’ll never forget it.”

The shift in his tone sends a fresh rush of slick between your thighs. His hand trails up your side, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast as he watches you.

“Gonna make you mine. Gonna keep you so full of me you’ll feel it in you every time you move.”

The possessiveness in his voice makes your body burn, your hips rocking up toward him involuntarily. “Joel, please,” you beg, your voice raw and edged with frustration as he drags the blunt head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing you.

“Fuck,” he pauses after barely pushing into you. His eyes slam shut for a moment before he inches deeper into you, slower than you thought possible. “You take me like it’s what you’re meant for.” His eyes stay locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face.

You gasp as he reaches the deepest part of you, his hips flush against yours, his cock filling you completely. “Look at you,” he coos. “Such a good girl for me.” The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve ending sparking to life as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust.

“Feel that?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m gonna stay, sweetheart. Right here, fillin’ you up.”

Your walls flutter around him, your body already begging for more. “Joel,” you whisper, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Move. Please.”

He obliges, his hips pulling back before driving forward again, dragging out the intensity of every sensation. His forehead drops to yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispers praise between each movement. “You’re so good for me, baby. So damn good.”

Your body writhes beneath him, the pleasure building with each heavy stroke. “More,” you whisper. “Please, Joel. I need more.”

The last of his restraint dissolves as he grips your hips and begins to move harder, faster, his cock hitting so deep you swear you can feel it everywhere. The pace steals the breath from your lungs, threatening to consume you.

“That’s it,” he growls, his voice rough and unrestrained. “Take it. All of me.”

Your cries fill the air, his name falling from your lips over and over. His hands hold you steady, keeping you exactly where he wants you as he claims you.

“Look at you,” he rasps, his gaze locked on the spot where your bodies meet, where his cock disappears every time he sinks into you. “So perfect, takin’ me so well. Made for this. Made for me.”

You watch, as he instructed, until you look back up to his face. He’s so vocal, so confident with every word—but his face is equal parts hungry and wrecked. Fucked out. Drunk on you.

Again it’s the deep satisfaction you get from his unrestrained desire that makes you come with a blinding intensity. You try to tell him how close you are before you’re violently sucked into the sensations.

Your walls clench around him, making him shudder and groan. You try to beg him to come too. To fill you up. You’re unsure if the words make it past your thoughts, but he’s pulled into it with you either way.

Moments later, a deep groan vibrates through his chest as he tenses and his hips jerk against you. It feels like bliss, the sensation of his cock pulsing within you, the heat of his release coating your walls as they flutter around him.

The room falls into a warm quiet, the only sounds are your ragged breaths and the faint sounds of people laughing and shouting at another campsite, reminding you the rest of the world still exists.

Joel’s weight presses into you, grounding you in the present. He doesn’t pull away, softening inside of you as you breathe through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Just stay with me.”

He shifts you both just enough to hold tight against his chest, his lips brushing your temple as his hand smooths down your side. “So good,” he murmurs, “so perfect,” voice rough but soft in a way that makes your chest ache.

The early morning sun stretches over the rodeo grounds, bathing everything in a wash of pink hues. You wake to the soft hum of voices outside the trailer and the thud of a bale of hay being dropped just outside the trailer.

Joel’s weight shifts beside you as he stirs, his arm tightening around your waist for a moment before he lets out a soft, sleepy grunt. The sound pulls a smile to your lips as you turn to face him. His eyes blink open slowly, still heavy with sleep, and he offers you a lazy smile that you mirror involuntarily.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly and low.

“Morning,” you whisper back, your fingers brushing over his stubbled jaw.

There’s a content silence between you before a loud knock rattles the trailer door, making you both jump. Tommy’s voice rings out cheerfully, "Y’all better get movin’ if you don’t wanna miss breakfast."

Joel groans, dropping his head back against the pillow with a dramatic sigh. "That boy’s got the worst damn timing."

You stifle a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before sliding out of bed to get dressed. Joel watches you for a moment, his gaze warm and unguarded, before he stretches and follows suit.

The three of you sit at a picnic table near the cook tent, balancing plates of eggs, bacon, and biscuits as the camp buzzes with early morning energy. Joel sits across from you, his knee brushing yours under the table. You catch him watching you over the rim of his coffee cup, his lips twitching into a barely concealed smile when your eyes meet.

Tommy, oblivious as ever, chatters on about their schedule and the competition, occasionally tossing in jokes that have you laughing despite yourself. Joel leans back in his seat, his body language is relaxed but his eyes are constantly flicking to you.

When Tommy excuses himself to check on their horses, Joel leans forward, his voice low and teasing. “You’re not real subtle, you know.”

You shoot him a mock glare, your cheeks warming. “Says the man who’s been staring at me all morning.”

“Can’t help it.” Joel shrugs.

Later, you find yourself perched on the edge of a fence near the arena, watching Joel and Tommy warm up their horses. Their movements are fluid and synchronized; you openly admire their skill.

Tommy tips his hat to you with a grin as they pass, and you wave back, your gaze inevitably drifting back to Joel. He glances your way, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a small, private smile that makes your heart skip.

The arena is alive with energy as their division gets underway. You lean against the rail, your fingers gripping the cool metal as you watch Joel and Tommy back their horses into the box.

The chute gate flies open, the steer bolting into the arena with Joel and Tommy in swift pursuit. Joel’s rope swings in a perfect arc, catching the steer cleanly around the horns as Tommy moves in to secure the heels. The crowd cheers as they pull the steer to a stop, their time flashing on the scoreboard.

The announcer calls their time and updates the standings. Joel and Tommy have the best time in their division so far.

You can’t help but cheer, your voice lost in the noise of the crowd as Joel and Tommy ride back toward the holding pen, their smiles wide and triumphant. Joel catches your eye as he passes, tipping his hat to you with a grin that makes your stomach flutter.

When they dismount near the gate, you meet them with a smile. "You two make that look way too easy."

Tommy laughs. "He’s the header," he tilts his head toward Joel. “I can’t do shit if he misses.”

Joel shakes his head, deflecting the comment.

“It’s a team event,” you counter. “Both of you are good at what you do.”

“We should bring her with us more often,” Tommy jokes.

Joel gives you another warm look with unspoken words.

“Your head wouldn’t fit in your damn hat if you had someone talking you up after every run,” Joel mocks. As they both swing their legs over the back of their saddles. You turn to watch as they lead their horses back to the trailer. You want to follow and stay close to Joel for the rest of the day, but you stay put.

Trying not to let Tommy in on whatever’s happening between the two of you until you figure it out for yourself. Instead, you head back to the fence to watch the next pair of team ropers. You’d rather be near him, but staying put feels safer—for now.

The afternoon sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the rodeo grounds. You sit beside Joel on the bleachers, the two of you a quiet bubble of calm amid the hum of spectators around you. The events continue below—tie-down ropers hopping into the dirt, saddle bronc riders gripping for dear life trying to stick it out for eight seconds, bareback riders up next.

Joel leans back, one arm draped across the bench behind you, his body close enough that the heat of him radiates against your side. He’s quiet, but his presence feels steady and grounding. Every so often, his knee brushes yours, the brief contact enough to send a subtle thrill through you.

“You doin’ all right?” Joel asks, his voice low and soft. His gaze lingers on you, dark eyes warm but searching.

“Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “This is nice. I didn’t think I’d enjoy just sitting and watching this much.”

“It’s better when you’ve got good company,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile.

Your cheeks warm, but you’re spared from responding by the announcer introducing the next rider. Joel shifts beside you, his attention briefly pulled to the arena. You let yourself steal a glance at him—the sharp line of his jaw and the quiet confidence in his posture. He catches you looking and tips his hat, the subtle smirk that follows sending warmth blooming in your chest.

As the next rider lines up, Joel pulls his hat off, setting it on your lap. You blink, startled, and look at him.

“Put it on,” he says simply, his tone casual, but there’s something in his eyes—a quiet intensity that makes your breath hitch.

You hesitate for only a moment before lifting the Stetson and settling it on your head. It’s big, a little too big, but it smells faintly of leather and him. Joel’s gaze lingers on you, his lips curving into a soft smile that feels like it’s meant just for you.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

The weight of the gesture settles over you—the tradition, the meaning behind it. The thought that this wasn’t just a playful gesture but a quiet claim sends a flutter through your chest. You’re not sure what to say, so you lean into his side slightly, letting the moment and the warmth of him settle over you like a blanket.

Later, as the afternoon begins to mellow, Joel takes your hand and guides you to the cook tent for dinner. It feels almost natural to walk hand in hand, weaving through the crowd of people. The smell of barbecue wafts through the air, mingling with the sounds of quiet conversations and laughter from the other riders and their families.

Joel insists on getting your plate, waving you off with a playful, “Sit tight. I’ll take care of you.” You settle at a nearby table, watching as he weaves through the crowd with ease, stopping to exchange a word or two with acquaintances before returning with two heaping plates.

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, sharing quiet conversation. Joel’s small acts of service don’t go unnoticed—handing you a napkin before you realize you need one, making sure your drink stays full, brushing crumbs off your sleeve with a casual intimacy that feels like it’s always been there.

For a moment, it’s easy to forget you’re at a rodeo. The noise and bustle fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a comfortable bubble of companionship. Joel’s low chuckle as you tell him a story about your first job, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the warmth in his voice when he says your name—it all feels so natural, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

As the sun begins to dip lower, casting a golden glow across the grounds, Joel stands and offers you his hand. “Come on,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “Let’s find a good spot for the bull riders. We can cheer for your new friend.”

You expect to see something flare in his eyes bringing up Cody, reminding you of the way he looked at you the first night you came back to the trailer. But, you take his hand and he’s only projecting pride and confidence. It makes you stand taller, knowing he’s a secure man.

He leads you back toward the bleachers. The two of you settle in as the crowd starts to gather, the energy of the evening event buzzing around you. Joel drapes his arm casually along the back of the bench again, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder. It’s a small gesture, but it grounds you, making you feel like you’re exactly where you belong.

Tommy and the woman you’ve seen him spending most of the weekend with join you to watch a few rounds. You tense as they come toward the steps, shifting to create space between you and Joel, trying to seem casual. You feel Joel’s eyes on you, but he doesn’t say anything about your move.

Tommy shoots you a wink before they take the seats next to you. It makes you squirm, but you tell yourself he’s always just playful like that. Too charming for his own good.

They stay and chat long enough to finish their drinks before heading back to watch the rest of the event with her group of friends.

Joel stays seated beside you, his arm still draped casually along the back of the bench, his other hand resting on his thigh. There’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that feels like its own kind of conversation.

Finally, Joel clears his throat, turning slightly to face you. There’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced with something earnest and determined.

“I know this might be the wrong time to bring this up,” he begins, commanding your attention just with the timbre of his voice pulling at your heart, “but I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding about where I’m at.”

You tilt your head, curiosity piqued. “Where you’re at?”

He nods, his gaze holding yours. “Look, I know your dad’s a good man, and I don’t want to cross any lines. But I also don’t want to miss my chance with you.” He pauses, his hand brushing against yours where it rests on your lap. “I don’t want this to be our only day together, and I won’t have you sneakin’ out your bedroom window and hoppin’ the fence to see me. S’just not the kind of man I am.”

Your heart stutters as his words sink in. There’s no wavering in his voice, no attempt to downplay what he’s saying. He’s laying it out plainly, his honesty disarming in a way you didn’t expect.

“So what are you saying?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He takes a deep breath, his hand shifting to fully cover yours. “I’m sayin’ I want something real with you. Not just sneakin’ moments or pretendin’ it don’t matter. I want to see where this goes.”

Your chest swells. You nod slowly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that.” Relief washes over his face, and he leans close to you.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Well, if you’re such a true-blue cowboy, you’re gonna have to be the one to tell my dad.”

Joel nods. “I’ll handle it.” His voice is quieter, but honest. His gaze seems to look a little far away.

You squeeze his hand. “We’ll handle it.” You give him an encouraging smile. “Don’t have to do everything by ourselves right?”

He gives you a warm look. “Right.” He dips toward you for a chaste kiss. It’s sweet and playful. “Just don’t make me wait too long to take you out proper,” he rumbles as he pulls his head back.

You laugh airily, leaning into his side as he pulls you closer. The warmth of his arm around you, the weight of his hat still on your head, and the quiet promise of what’s to come settle over you, the world around you fading into a comfortable hum of possibilities for you and your cowboy Joel.

thank you for reading! pls let me know what you think <3

dividers by @/saradika-graphics tags for babes in case they want some cowboy joel: @lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed

@bbyanarchist @94namkooksworld

[gayghostgrimoire]

Reconnaissance

"You're gonna love the new office, man," Mike said, slapping his friend Alex on the back as they strolled through the early morning park.

Alex nodded, his eyes glazed with a blend of excitement and dread. "Just don't let it be anything like the last place. You remember how Janet from accounting always smelled like... burnt toast?"

Mike chuckled. "Yeah, but think of the perks! Free coffee and maybe a gym membership. Plus, we're moving up in the world, right?"

Alex forced a smile, his mind racing with the long list of potential horrors the new office might hold. "Right," he said, trying to sound more convincing than he felt.

As they cut across Lafayette Park, the air grew thick with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of city traffic. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a soft, warm glow across the dewy grass. They quickened their pace, their shoes crunching the gravel as they weaved through the quiet paths.

In the distance, Alex spotted a young twink walking a fluffy Pomeranian on a hot pink leash. The dog's prancing steps and cheerful yaps echoed through the stillness of the early hour. His owner's lithe frame and bouncy step mirrored the dog's energy, his blond hair reflecting the light like a halo around his head. Alex couldn't help but feel a pang of envy; the twink's carefree demeanor was a stark contrast to the knot in his own stomach.

Under the shade of a nearby grove of palm trees, two handsome gay men had laid out a picnic blanket. They sat cross-legged, sipping from matching travel mugs, their laughter spilling out like music as they shared stories and smiles. The scent of freshly baked bread and the faint aroma of a citrus fruit salad wafted through the air, making Alex's stomach rumble. One of them, a dark-haired Adonis with a five o'clock shadow, leaned over to kiss his partner's cheek, leaving a smudge of lip balm. The other, a fair-skinned man with a sculpted jaw, playfully swiped at his cheek with a napkin, his eyes sparkling with affection.

The muscular man doing calisthenics nearby was a vision of discipline and vitality. His t-shirt clung to his body like a second skin, revealing the contours of his chiseled abs as he executed perfect push-ups, his body moving with the grace of a dancer. Each grunt and exhale resonated through the park, a symphony of effort and strength that seemed to charge the very air around him. He paused briefly to wipe the sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt, and Alex felt a strange attraction, a yearning to be that powerful, that unabashedly masculine.

Mike broke the silence with a sigh. "You know, I've been thinking..."

Alex looked at him expectantly, his eyes flicking from the calisthenics god back to his friend. "Yeah?"

Mike took a deep breath, his gaze drifting to the distant office buildings. "I think this job is gonna be a game-changer for us. It's like we're stepping into the big leagues."

Alex nodded in agreement, his eyes lingering on the glowing skyscrapers in the horizon. "It's just... I don't know, I'm a little nervous about starting over."

Mike clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll kill it, buddy. You're the smartest guy I know. And hey, if all else fails, at least you'll look great in a new suit."

Alex chuckled, trying to ignore the rustling he heard from the bushes by the park gates. It was probably just a squirrel or some early morning joggers. But as the sound grew louder, his heart began to race. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting towards the commotion.

"Mike, do you see that?" Alex whispered, pointing at the shadows that seemed to be moving with purpose.

Mike squinted, his eyes following the line of Alex's finger. "What? The bushes? Maybe it's just a raccoon."

Alex didn't take his eyes off the spot. The rustling grew louder, and the black outline grew more defined, shifting into the shape of a human figure. He swallowed hard. "I think we should go," he said, his voice quivering slightly.

Mike rolled his eyes. "You're seeing things, man. It's just the jitters." He slapped Alex on the back again, a bit too hard this time. "You're just nervous about the new gig. Relax."

But Alex couldn't shake off the unease. The sound grew closer, and suddenly, the man doing calisthenics by the palm trees was jolted mid-push-up. He glanced around, his eyes wide with surprise and confusion, before a flash of black engulfed him, and he was yanked into the bushes. The scene unfolded so swiftly that Alex could barely believe his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.

"Mike, did you see that?" Alex hissed, his eyes wide with horror.

Mike, who had been scrolling through his phone, looked up with a frown. "See what?"

Alex pointed at the spot where the muscular man had been moments before, his finger trembling slightly. "The guy, the one doing push-ups," he whispered urgently.

Mike followed his gaze, his eyes squinting in confusion. "What about him?"

Alex's jaw dropped. "He's... changed." The man who'd been doing push-ups had emerged from the bushes, his muscles bulging, his skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat. The once-tight t-shirt looked painted on, stretched to its limits by his newfound size. The sleeves had been ripped clean off, and his biceps flexed with the power of a dozen men.

Mike squinted. "You're not serious, right? Did you have a little too much to drink last night?"

Alex's heart raced as he watched the bulked-up figure strut out of the foliage, a cocky smile on his changed face. "No, Mike, look!" Alex's voice was barely above a whisper, fear coating his words. But Mike was too absorbed in his screen to notice. Alex's eyes were glued to the man, who was now flexing his arms, the veins popping out like electric cords. The skin on the man's face was taut, as if it didn't quite fit. He used his fingers to smooth it out, stretching his cheeks and nose, his eyes flickering with something that wasn't entirely human. It was like watching someone put on a Halloween costume, except this costume was made of flesh and bone.

Without warning, the man lifted his arm and sniffed his own pit. The gesture was so casual, so unexpectedly intimate in this bizarre context, that Alex felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. But the man's reaction was anything but natural. His eyes lit up with something akin to hunger. He whistled sharply, the sound piercing the quiet morning air. Alex's blood turned to ice as he realized the whistle wasn't a mere signal—it was a call to arms.

Three figures bolted out of the bushes, each one more terrifying than the last. They were marines, or at least they looked like marines, but something was off. Their uniforms were a shiny, almost wet-looking black rubber, reflecting the early light like a trio of inky pools. Each one was as muscular as the man who'd first emerged, their bodies bulging and stretching the material to its limits. The smell hit Alex next—a heady mix of sweat, rubber, and something faintly chemical. It was overwhelmingly male, overwhelmingly potent.

Alex's instincts took over and he darted behind a park bench, his heart hammering in his chest. The twink with the Pomeranian was frozen in place, the dog barking frantically at the newcomers. The two lovers on the picnic blanket had gone silent, their laughter replaced by the clatter of their dropped mugs. Alex watched as the marines fanned out, their eyes scanning the park, searching.

Mike, still oblivious, was scrolling through his phone. "What's going on, Alex?"

Alex's voice was a choked whisper. "Hide!"

Mike looked up from his phone, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a sinewy Latino marine with a buzzcut and a gleaming smile swooped down on him like a hawk on a field mouse. Alex's heart lurched into his throat as the marine's rubbery hands wrapped around Mike's shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace. The marine's skin was stretched so tautly over his bulging muscles that it looked ready to tear at any moment, and the scent of him was intoxicating—like a mix of new rubber and a locker room after an intense workout. Alex's mind reeled, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

The marine lifted one of his thick arms, bringing it under Mike's nose. Mike's eyes widened, his body stiffening as he took in the aroma. The twink looked on, his eyes wide with terror, his Pomeranian barking hysterically as it tried to pull him away. The marine's pit was a cavern of sweat and power, a scent so potent it seemed to silence the very air around them. Mike's struggling ceased, his eyes glazed over with a strange mix of fear and fascination. The marine's grin grew wider as he pushed his arm closer, the sound of fabric brushing against flesh muffling Mike's muffled protests.

The twink's eyes darted around, looking for an escape as the second marine approached him. The man was a mountain of muscle, his rubbery skin flexing with every step. The twink's lithe frame was no match for the marine's bulk, and he was easily picked up despite his flailing limbs. The marine brought his own bulging arm to the twink's nose, the musky scent of his armpit enveloping the smaller man's face. The twink's struggles grew weaker, his body going slack as he breathed in the heady fragrance.

With surprising agility, the marine hoisted the twink above his head. The twink's legs kicked wildly, his shorts riding up to expose a peek of his jockstrap. The marine took advantage of the moment, yanking the shorts down to reveal the twink's bare ass, pale and unblemished in the early light. Alex's heart raced as the marine leaned closer, his grin widening to reveal a mouthful of gleaming white teeth. The twink's eyes grew huge with fear as he realized what was happening.

The marine's arms grew wet, as if lubricated by some unseen substance, and he pushed both hands into the twink's gaping mouth. Alex watched, his stomach churning, as the marine's forearms stretched and distorted, sliding into the twink's hole with a series of obscene, wet sounds. The twink's eyes bulged, his cheeks puffed out like a blowfish as the marine's rubbery limbs disappeared into his body. The marine's shoulders and biceps followed, his skin stretching like taffy as it squeezed through the twink's tight opening.

Alex's gaze snapped back to Mike, who had dropped his phone, his eyes locked on Alex with a look of horror. The Latino marine had one hand wrapped around the back of Mike's neck, the other buried in his throat. Mike's face was reddening as the marine's arms pushed deeper into his body, his throat stretching and bulging with each sickening inch. Alex could see the outline of the marine's muscular forearms moving beneath Mike's skin, like a pair of serpents wriggling under a taut blanket. The marine's smile never wavered, his teeth gleaming as he pushed in further, his body seemingly compressing as it forced its way into Mike's.

The sound of the twink's moans grew louder, his body convulsing as the marine continued to stretch and squeeze himself inside. The rubbery limbs slithered and squelched, his massive boots disappearing into the twink's body with a wet pop. Alex's stomach churned, his mind reeling as he watched the two men be consumed by these monstrous intruders.

Mike's eyes grew wild, his hands grasping at the marine's arms as they bulged through his skin. The marine's boots slid into his mouth, the rubbery material stretching and suctioning into Mike's maw entirely. The smell hit Alex like a truck—sweat, rubber, and musk—as Mike's nose and mouth were filled with the soldier's scent. Alex's vision swam with horror as Mike's body grew taut, his shirt tearing at the seams as the marine's torso pushed into his.

The marine's legs began to slide downward, his rubbery thighs thickening as they squeezed into Mike's skinny legs. The fabric of Mike's pants split open as the marine's muscles bulged through, the sound of his shoes bursting echoing through the silent park. Mike's feet ballooned into the same gigantic size as the marine's, the stink of rubber and sweat now emanating from his soles.

Alex's horror grew as the marine's head started to stretch up into Mike's throat as his features stretched and distorted. The marine's hands, now fully inside Mike's, began to manipulate his body like a puppeteer, making him flex and pose unnaturally. Mike's eyes rolled back in his head, his face a mask of pain and bewilderment as his arms grew longer and bulkier, the marine filling him out like a balloon animal. Alex watched, frozen with fear, as the marine's hands slipped into Mike's, thick and powerful, his knuckles popping out like those of a heavyweight boxer.

The marine's head suctioned into Mike's, the skin of their faces merging like molten wax. Alex's stomach lurched as he saw Mike's nose flatten and widen, his cheekbones become more pronounced, and his jawline square off. His face grew more defined, the skin on Mike's body tightening over the new, more muscular structure beneath.

The transformation was complete when the marine's head disappeared entirely, and Mike's body jolted upright. The once-slender frame was now a powerhouse of bulging muscles and sinew, the new occupant flexing and stretching his new form. Mike's eyes snapped open, but they were no longer Mike's; they were the piercing, steely gaze of the marine. Across the park the twink's soft, pouty mouth was replaced by the marine's firm, commanding one, and his voice had deepened to a gruff growl. He looked down at his now-massive chest and flexed, the former twink's lithe body now a canvas of thick, bulging biceps and a washboard stomach. His legs had thickened into tree trunks, and his ass was now a round, muscular shelf that would make any gym-goer weep with envy.

The other marines, now fully inside their hosts, strutted over, their rubbery skin glinting in the early sun. The possessed civilian men had morphed into a pack of hyper-masculine soldiers, their movements coordinated and powerful. They gathered around the picnic blanket, where the two lovers were now bulging masses of muscle and sweat, their former selves indistinguishable. The dark-haired man, now a towering brute, flexed his arms, the fair-skinned man's delicate wrists and hands now thick and veined, his fingers curling into fists that could crush rocks.

Alex watched, his hand clamped over his mouth to stifle the scream building in his chest. He was transfixed by the transformation, his eyes flicking between the new marines. They slapped each other's backs, their high-fives reverberating through the silent park. The men's laughter was deep and gruff, the sound of a frat house after a workout montage. The twink, his body now a muscular behemoth, bent over, his massive glutes flexing as he picked up his tiny dog. The Pomeranian yipped in his new owner's oversized hand, tail wagging with excitement or fear, Alex couldn't tell.

He knew he had to do something, had to get help. His trembling hand reached into his pocket for his phone. But before he could even grasp it, a shadow fell over him, the scent of rubber and sweat overwhelming. He looked up to find the final marine towering over him, his grin wild and his eyes glinting with mischief. The man was the most muscular of the group, his rubbery skin stretched tight over bulging biceps and a chest that looked like it could stop a truck. The smell coming off him was far more pungent than the others—like a gym locker stuffed with week-old workout gear.

"Looks like you're the last one," the marine said, his voice a gruff taunt. Alex felt a cold shiver of fear run down his spine, his hand tightening around his phone. But before he could even think of dialing, the marine grabbed him by the head, his thick, gloved fingers digging into his scalp.

"Take a deep breath, boy," the marine ordered, his voice a gravelly purr. Alex's nose was shoved into the damp bulge of his crotch, the smell of his sweat-drenched latex making him gag. The scent was a noxious cloud of cheesy funk, ripe and thick, and it filled Alex's nostrils like a punch. His eyes watered, and he tried to squirm away, but the marine's grip was like a vice.

"Good boy," the marine grunted, his calloused hands wrenching Alex's face closer to the damp crotch of his rubbery armor. Alex's nostrils flared as he was forced to inhale deeply, the cheesy reek of the marine's sweat so potent it seemed to coat the back of his throat. The scent was overpowering, a miasmic cloud of testosterone and rubber that filled the air around them. With every breath, Alex felt his panic ebbing, his muscles unclenching despite the horror of the situation. It was as if the very essence of this alien creature was seeping into him, calming him, dominating him. "Take another," the marine ordered, his voice a gruff rumble that seemed to resonate in Alex's very bones.

Alex obeyed, his eyes watering as he took another deep, shuddering inhale. The smell was thick, a heady mix of male pheromones and something... else. It was alien, yet strangely alluring, and his cock began to stir in his pants despite the fear coursing through his veins. The marine chuckled, his laughter a deep rumble that seemed to resonate through the very ground beneath them. "You like that, don't you?" he sneered, his grip tightening. "You're going to love what I've got in store for you."

The marine leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning across Alex's cheek. "You know, I've always wondered what it would be like to be inside a little queer like you." He whispered, his words dripping with malice. "I bet you're all about that musk, aren't you?" Alex couldn't form words, his brain fogging over with the overwhelming scent. His eyes glazed over, and his thoughts grew hazy, the only thing clear was the marine's smell.

With a grin that was all teeth and no kindness, the marine announced, "Alright, I'm going in." He didn't bother with finesse, shoving his arms into Alex's gaping mouth. Alex felt the stretch and burn of his throat widening, his body desperately trying to reject this intrusion, but it was no use. The rubbery limbs pushed deeper, the marine's skin sliding into his own with a wet, stretching sound that seemed to echo in his ears.

Panic set in as the marine's bulging biceps filled his mouth, his thick wrists brushing the back of his throat. The scent of rubber and sweat grew stronger, filling Alex's nose and throat, but instead of fear, he felt something else—a strange, overwhelming euphoria. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced, a warmth that spread from his core outwards, wrapping him in a blanket of pure, unadulterated pleasure. He tried to scream, to resist, but all that came out was a muffled moan, his voice lost to the thickness of the marine's arms.

The marine's grin grew wider, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light as he pushed further, his chest and abs slithering into Alex's body like a serpent made of muscle and sweat. Alex's own skin stretched and bulged, the marine's rubbery flesh seeping into him, filling him out with a newfound strength and power. His throat convulsed around the thick torso, his body betraying him with a shiver of pleasure.

The other marines watched with rapt attention, their eyes alight with excitement. One of them, a blond giant who'd been a middle-aged office worker mere moments ago, let out a low whistle. "Looks like Cap found a nice, snug fit," he quipped, his voice a deep bass that seemed to rumble through the ground.

Alex felt his throat stretch and expand to accommodate the marine's thick boots, the rubber squeaking and popping as it slithered down his gullet. The smell was indescribable—like a football field after a rainstorm, mixed with the pungency of a gym that hadn't been aired out in weeks. Yet, as the boots disappeared into his body, the feeling of power that had begun in his throat grew stronger, spreading through him like a wildfire. His eyes rolled back in his head as the marine's legs pushed into his, the fabric of his pants stretching to the point of tearing.

The captain chuckled, his voice a deep bass that seemed to resonate through Alex's very soul. "You're taking it like a champ," he murmured, his words vibrating through the rubber that was now Alex's flesh. The other marines had gathered around, their new, muscular forms flexing and stretching in the early morning light. They were like a pack of wolves, eager to see their alpha take his new form.

Alex's body convulsed as the captain's head pushed into his, the sound of skin stretching and popping like bubble wrap. His own eyes widened with terror as the captain's face pushed through his, his features distorting into something monstrous. The captain's eyes were cold, calculating, his smile a sadistic sneer as he took over Alex's terrified expression. "Ohhh fuck yeah, that's what I'm talking about," the captain groaned, his voice now a deep, resonant bass that seemed to shake the very air.

The Captain's new body was a cacophony of sensations—his skin tight and stretched, his muscles bulging and pulsing with unnatural power. The smell from the captain's pits was a potent cocktail of sweat and rubber, so intense it was almost tangible. It filled his nose and lungs, a scent so thick and overpowering that it was like breathing in pure male virility. His stomach churned with a mix of fear and arousal, his cock hardening against his will.

The other marines, their own host bodies now fully under their control, gathered around, their grins stretching from ear to ear. The blond giant that used to be Mike slapped the captain on the back, his hand landing with a wet slap against the rubbery flesh. "Looks like the captain's got himself a hard-on for the job," he jeered, his voice now a deep baritone that seemed to resonate through the air.

Alex felt his own cock stiffen against his will, the alien presence inside him controlling his body's responses. The captain chuckled darkly, his rubbery hands reaching down to palm the bulge that had formed in Alex's pants. "Oh, you like that, don't you?" he chided, his voice now a deep, gruff taunt that seemed to resonate through Alex's very soul. "You want a taste of this?"

The blond giant, who was once Mike, took a step closer, his own bulging muscles shifting and flexing with a grace that seemed almost inhuman. He leaned in and slapped the captain's bulging crotch playfully. "Hey, Cap," he drawled, a wicked glint in his eyes, "Don't go forgetting we gotta keep that tongue of yours for the ladies." The former twink's voice had deepened into a bass that seemed to rumble from the very earth.

The captain, now fully ensconced in Alex's body, grinned wickedly, his rubbery fingers still wrapped around Alex's thickening cock. "Don't worry, I'm just breaking it in," he said, his voice a deep growl that sent shivers down Alex's spine. "But once we're done here, I'm definitely going to be plowing some pussy with this queer cock."

Alex felt his body responding against his will, his dick growing harder and thicker with every twist of the captain's hand. His mind was a whirlwind of fear and confusion, but the alien presence inside him was growing stronger, overwhelming his thoughts with images of power and dominance. The other marines watched with hungry eyes, their own bulges growing as they awaited their orders.

The captain stepped back, his hand still wrapped around Alex's cock. "Alright, men," he barked, his voice a command that seemed to echo through the deserted park. "Recon mission begins now. Keep a low profile in those fleshsuits until we spot our target."

The other marines snapped to attention, their eyes gleaming with excitement. "Sir, yes sir!" they barked in unison, their deep, gruff voices bouncing off the surrounding trees. With a nod from the captain, they dispersed, their bulging muscles rippling as they moved in a coordinated fashion that seemed almost inhuman. They melded into the early-morning shadows, becoming a silent, lethal force of nature.

Alex's heart raced as he felt the alien presence in his body take control, his own thoughts receding into the background. He was just a passenger in his own flesh, a silent observer to the horror unfolding. The captain's gaze swept over the empty park before settling on the street beyond. A beautiful woman, her hips swaying in a tight skirt and her blonde hair bouncing in the early morning light, walked by, oblivious to the monstrosities hiding just out of sight.

The captain's smile grew hungry, his rubbery hand squeezing Alex's cock with a newfound gusto. "Well, gay boy," he murmured, his voice a deep, guttural purr that seemed to resonate in Alex's very soul, "Let's make you a man, shall we?" The words sent a shiver down Alex's spine, a mix of terror and arousal that made him feel sick.

With a grunt, the captain began to strut Alex's body over toward the unsuspecting woman, his rubbery legs moving with a confidence that Alex had never felt before. Each step sent waves of power through Alex's body, his muscles bulging and flexing with every movement. The woman looked up, her eyes widening at the sight of the hulking figure approaching her. The captain's gaze locked onto her, his eyes gleaming with a predatory lust that made Alex's stomach drop.

As they got closer, the woman's eyes flickered with attraction. The captain leaned in, his nose brushing against her cheek as he whispered something in her ear. Alex's mind screamed for him to stop, but his body was no longer his own. He watched in horror as his new, monstrous self bent her over the hood of a nearby car, hiking her skirt up to reveal her naked ass with a lustful smile. The captain's hands roamed over her body, his touch leaving a trail of sticky wetness that made her skin shine in the morning light. "Yeah, just like that," he murmured, his voice a gruff, animalistic growl that seemed to make the woman quiver with anticipation and Alex in silent horror.