#let me know if i need to edit something or revise this

[nmn-yty]

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ leaning on you ˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

read other parts first!!! : part 1 — part 2

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: you somehow managed to cross the line with your bunny, can it be pleasurable for the both of you?

tags: 「NSFW! 18+ only! smut | hybrid!lee know | referring to lee know as minho | hybrid wanting to mate | needy!lee know makes a return | humping/thighjob | nipple play | unprotected sex (i dont condone!) | anal | orgasms for both^^ | cuddles are here i promise | reader has no gender」

word count: 2.5k

a/n: hello! i severely apologize to all of you who have been waiting for this part to come out :( ive been struggling to find time to continue to write, and the motivation with it... but here it is! seriously... i can't explain how much i appreciate all of the love you guys have given to my stories♡ im so happy you guys love bunny lee know so much! i also wanted to keep this as neutral as possible regarding the reader (hence the anal) but you can switch it out in your imagination! (i wanted to have all readers to be able to enjoy!) also this is my first smut story being uploaded... i hope you guys have a good read><!!!~

(special shoutout to @omgsecretsecret for helping me edit this part♡)

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions

"so do bunnies like you experience everything a human should?"

you didn't know why your mind was drifting towards this direction. for as long as you had minho in your house, you were sure your relationship would be 100% platonic. he was adorable as hell, eased your mind whenever any worries came to you, and was always there by your side. did that give you clearance to make a move on him? you didn't want to ruin the perfect relationship you two had, but you have needs, and you were wondering if he had the ability to share those same needs.

minho paused for a moment, sitting oddly still while you sat above him. you were sitting on the edge of your bed, playing with his hair while he sat on the floor with his head leaning against the mattress. his head was almost at a distance where you could press your thighs against each side of his face, but you resisted enough so the lingering thoughts of teasing him went away.

he turned around briefly to face you, "what do you mean by 'everything'?"

your face began to flush after you realized how insensitive your question could've been.

"not to pry or anything but... aren't bunnies known for... having a high sex drive?" you spat out quickly before your confidence faded away.

his eyes widened, this is the first time youve seen him this shocked at your words. he was too shocked to even reply to you, not that he had anything ready in his mind. you could feel his presence tense up and you wanted to steer clear of whatever dirty path your mind seemed to wander on. he didn't say anything and just turned back around, finally leaning into your thigh. he wrapped one arm around your leg, feeling your cool skin calming down his burning face. having him so close to you when you wanted to run away in shame felt strange. you were always used to being close to minho, but the sudden affection, especially after that moment, was out of place. your leg started to warm up because of his face. starting to relax a bit, you realized that it wasn't the right time to head across that line.

you smiled and started to play with his hair again, looping each little section around your finger into curls. they eventually sprung back to its natural shape once you let go. minho loved this time with you, when all you did was leave your worries for that day and focused on him. it was his favorite thing to do while being with you. he still carried the thought in his mind, 'maybe something would happen during my need for mating'. only time could tell the new moments you two would experience together.

during the late night, you and minho were cuddling in bed. it wasn't strange for the both of you anymore. you knew that minho felt more comfortable knowing that you kept him safe. cuddling with him was the least you could do to comfort him.

this night felt different though. the question you asked earlier felt like a reach into unwanted territories. you wanted him to expand on his feelings, but at the end of the day he was a shy bunny who got flustered easier than you thought.

unsure of your next thoughts, you closed your eyes and tried your best to go to sleep as soon as you could. feeling rustling from behind you, minho's presence inched closer to you. the movement didn't stop, you could feel him shaking now. was it too cold in the room? you stayed as still as possible, trying to make out the noise coming from him. he was whimpering softly, almost like he needed something desperately.

"m-minho?"

you turned around to face him, tears were welling up in his eyes. he was clearly distraught about something but you had no clue what happened. your heart sank, was it because of the invasive conversation from earlier?

he sniffed softly, trying to make out words but ultimately getting choked up.

"i... i need..."

his eyes glanced down to the bottom half of his body. tentatively scanning his body as to what he was trying to point out, the last and most obvious thing you noticed was a slight twitch coming from his crotch, the cloth sticking up as well.

'fuck... is this really happening?' you thought to yourself. you managed to repress and bury all the inappropriate thoughts you had about minho, but he was about to fuel it once again. his face was as pink as ever, in desperate need for your warm touch.

"is this what i think it is?"

"mating tendencies... yeah... i-ive never experienced it while being human, i dont know if it will feel the same. but i r-really need..."

he was huffing between words, stuttering as well.

"let me think for a second."

you turned facing away from him. rubbing your thighs together, trying to hold back the good aching feeling rising within, you couldn't help but panic for a second. would you help him out because he's in pain and needs to relieve himself? how would this moment affect your relationship moving forward? would it be a normal occurrence, or only during his need to mate? would it be better to just ignore it and try hold on to whatever you two had going on when you first met?

your rushing thoughts were interrupted by something warm, sticky, and hard. something poking at your thighs, trying to squeeze itself in between.

you couldn't help but let out a small yelp. that feeling began to rise in you. there was no way things were going back to how they used to be. the movement kept progressing, you glanced down in front of yourself to find the head of minho's cock against your thighs. you wanted nothing more than to take him, take his body, and pleasure the both of you were bound to have.

"minho please.." you reached down towards his cock, ready to progress. he misunderstood and took it as you wanting to stop. he pulled away, hesitantly, already missing the softness of your thighs.

"mm sorry... i j-just need.."

"hey," you turned around slightly to grab his face. you flashed him a small grin, making sure he didn't feel guilty for acting this way around you. "it's okay."

a tear started to stream down one side of his face. your reassurance made him slide himself back in between your thighs. you wondered how it was possible for it to feel so good on your bare skin. you had shorts on but it all of a sudden became more hot under the blankets. your thighs were coated in a thin layer of his precum. he gripped onto your body for a better stroke pattern.

sweet little moans erupted from behind you. minho was the one engulfing your body with his tall stature against you. however, you felt like you were in charge at the moment. letting your sweet bunny try and cum from your body was more than enough for you to start to get horny yourself.

slipping a hand under your shirt, you began to play with your nipples slowly. you shut your eyes and leaned more into minho's chest, hoping that he wouldn't catch you in the act. sweet little huffs turned into loud groans, he was in a trance and he hadn't even started to properly explore your body. he had ultimately noticed you leaning more into him, even arching your back. he wanted you to feel comfortable and not worry as much about trying to relieve yourself on your own. although you were the one trying to help him, he wanted to be the one to help you with your release too.

"let me.. please?" he said while placing his hand on top of yours, wanting to take your place on your chest. you moved your hand down in defeat, it was impossible to say no to him. his hands felt warm on your bare skin. swirling his fingers around you and occasionally pulling, your nipples hardened more and more. your breath started to get unsteady as you wanted more. shivers ran throughout your whole body.

gently breaking the contact of his cock and your thighs, you turned your whole body around to face him. you locked eyes with him and all the guilt and doubts you had in your mind about you two went away. his cock began to twitch at the loss of warmth. you suddenly placed your hand on him, slowly stroking and gliding on him, your hand becoming a sticky mess. he let out a strong huff and tilted his head back. you both were seeing stars. minho was unable to fathom that you were finally touching him, taking in all the strength to not cum right then and there. you were also shocked at how good you felt. seeing his reaction made you more comfortable and ready to move further.

grabbing your face with both hands, he placed a passionate, wet kiss on your lips. his tongue was determined and he kept moving his mouth in ways that sent you to heaven. pulling away to see your reaction, he smiled, "im still all yours, remember?" his voice just became more sexy to you than ever. you quickly locked lips with him again, smiling through it all. his lips were soft and plump from all the action, he bit the bottom of your lip to signal he needed some air. both of you sharing the same blushing expression.

he tried to drag your body back around but ultimately needed assistance. helping him out, you turned around immediately. sticking your ass out on his bare cock, you moved your hips up and down. minho was at his breaking point. he nudged his mouth near your ear, slowly dragging your shorts and underwear down. "please? let me put it in... i need to feel you.." his breath was hot and low on your ear. you were surprised you hadn't melted into a puddle yet.

you didn't say anything. you were too drunk off of the bliss feeling lingering throughout your whole body. you placed a hand on top of his that was resting on your hip. he took that as a sign to start.

not a second to waste, he lodged his entire length into your ass, letting out a deep moan into your ear. you arched your back more and almost choked up on the intense yelp you let out. he filled you up so good, it barely hurt from all the precum he was dripping with. he also took his time on the first stroke, pulling out his length so you knew how its absence would feel. you squeezed his hand, wanting more.

he slowly stroked back in, his high coming back harder this time. you felt like your heart was going to explode. his slow rhythm became more loud and sloppy, the wetness spreading throughout your bodies. syncing your moans with each pump, you instinctively rolled your tongue to hang out and pant more. you wanted this feeling to last for as long as possible.

the pace began to increase, and minho wasn't holding back on his moans. this whole time he was in his human form, but this much work was bound to make him change. you didn't notice at first, but his bunny ears appeared and drooped down, gently caressing your face. being in his hybrid form made him more bunny like, it made him go faster. the rhythm was so irresistible, it was fast but gentle, hitting you in all the right places. you felt yourself being filled with more fluid, gliding himself became easier than before.

he held onto your body even closer and tighter. minho started to felt bad about involving you in this situation, but you did want to be closer to him in this way. he wanted to make sure you felt satisfied, so he held himself back and focused the pleasure going to you. the final stretch of your rising heat and the steady rhythm snapped you out of your trance.

"s-slower, please minh-ho," you whined out. you couldn't tell, but he began to smirk at the way his name sounded in that tone. it drove him crazy, the fact that he was actually making you a complete mess. you wanted to savor this addictive feeling, but the slower strokes made your body greedy.

it all came rushing in at once, you let out one last yelp as you rode through your high. minho helped you by holding on to your shaking body.

the sight of your worn body filled himself with so much pride, he was shocked that he hadn't came yet. "did that feel good?" his voice was low and velvety in your ears again.

"y-yes," you managed to whisper out. still sensitive, you could feel him twitching around your walls, which made you choke slightly between breaths. he was trying his best not to move too much, but his body wasn't on his side.

you wanted to help him, but first you needed to recover. he moved his head to your neck, slowly sucking and kissing around to make sure you were okay. his sweet behavior was very calming, especially after the first orgasm you experienced with him.

"dont you want to cum too?" your question snapped him back to the situation at hand.

"can i?"

you nodded lazily, about to doze off at any minute. however, minho was quick to return to his rough pace, making your eyes steady again. he buried his head back onto you, acting like the shy bunny you knew too. the deeper and harder he pumped, he suddenly whispered a quick 'fuck' under his breath, pulling out of you. he grabbed his dick and painted your ass with his warm, thick cum.

it was beautiful, seeing how happy he was to finally get his first orgasm as a human. he pressed his body up against you, getting all the cum and sweat on his body as well. he didn't mind it though, he was too tired to clean up.

he looked drained, you noticed the beads of sweat all over his face and body. he was glistening with a new aura, and he looked like the most beautiful thing in the world. he still managed to give you a crooked smile, letting you know it was a good experience. you started to get flustered, even though you two just experienced the most intimate action ever.

you changed your position, letting your face sit on his chest. you buried and hid your red face from him. he gently reached up to pet your head, soothing you to sleep.

waking up to minho distanced away, you couldn't help but pull him back into a cuddle. he had quickly turned back into his bunny form to recharge from the actions that took place last night. he didn't flinch at all from the movement, he just slowed his breathing down as he was surrounded by a sudden warmth. you couldn't help but feel a little sorry about the sacrifice he took today. you pet his body slowly, kissing his head gently. you wanted to apologize for the state he was in now, but he was the one who made sure that it was okay to go through with in the first place.

♥︎taglist: @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lunathewonyoungstan @syedazarintasnim @yourlocalstayyxi @yukichan67 @qwonyoung23 @cupidcures @verynormalsstuff @leezanetheofficial @brainrotahahaha @kim-hao-han @b0os-jellfyfish @l33felix @wirwirfr @skzmylove75 @katsukis1wife @zyoopioo @katsukisloveinterest

© nmn-yty ★ 7.15.2024

[nina-renmen]

How Male demon Kny Characters are in bed pt.1

I seen something like this on here and I thought I’d hop on the bandwagon. Minors DNI!! (This isn’t revised or edited)

This can either go one of two ways. He either A) is super gentle and sweet. He’d most likely prep you before and initiate aftercare. But this would only happen if you two were together for a long time (like three years for example) and the relationship is serious. He might be rough with you if you asked him to or he had a bad day. But let’s just say this man lives for plush thighs. Especially if you sit and your thighs go into ‘pillow mode.’ It drives him crazy. Or B) He’s super rough with you. Not that you mind, but he could be a bit more gentler with you. He dosn’t prep you as much as he would if you guys were together for a long time. He wouldn’t be much for Praise instead he’d be a bit more degrading. Aftercare would happen but it wouldn’t be as sweet. He might lay with you or take a nap or a bath with you but that’s about it.

This man is instantly respectful towards you. Especially if you’re a woman. If you’re a girl he’d see you as a delicate flower that needs to be taken care of and protected. But if you wrap your legs around his waist while he’s thrusting into you it’s like a switch that’s turned off. He’s instantly burying his face in the crook of your neck, he may or may not bite you. His thrusts will go deeper and harder, his grip on your wrists will tighten and he’ll pull you closer into him. He might even put you in a mating press. Either way, whether he’s feral or he’s gentle he’ll always praise how tight you are, or how pretty you sound.

He lives between your thighs….No one can change my mind. If this man could, he’d eat you out all day, every day. But sadly he can’t since he has his duties to attend. But don’t think that he won’t take a quick snack early in the morning or just before you go to bed. This man has no shame. He urges you to scream his name, to let all of his followers know who’s making you feel this good. He loves it when you pull his hair. The harder you pull his hair the more he’ll eat you out. He likes to see you on top of him from time to time. He loves looking up at you, especially if you’re struggling to take him fully. He wants you to ask for help, so he won’t move to help you out until you push your pride aside and ask him to take over.

I feel like he’s a bit more traditional since he was raised in a different era. Hell court you first before me makes any sexual gestures or tries to take you. When that does happen, you’ll find out that he has a lot , A LOT of energy. He’ll fuck you from dawn all the way to dusk if you let him. If he’s feeling a particular way he’ll put you in a mating press so you can’t squirm as much. He likes seeing you struggle at times when you’re overstimulated. He’ll tease you until you’re crying and begging him to just get on with it. He’s in the middle about making you scream for him. One part of him wants you to scream his name, and moan so everyone knows who’s making you feel goo. But the other part of him dosn’t want that. He feels that only he should be able to hear your moans. None of the others are worthy of hearing such a tune.

Bottom…..That’s all I have to say. The first time is his actual first time. He’s never even touched a woman sexually before. Sure he’s thought about it, but he’s clueless. You’d have to take the lead. He’s be a little bit stiff at first, he wants it he really does. But he dosn’t know where to put his hands. You’re gonna have to teach him how to make you feel good. But don’t worry he’s a quick learner. After a night or two your positions will switch and your thighs will be squeezing around his head. Gyutaro is another one who will eat you out all day, every day. The only thing that’s different from Doūma is that he actually has the time to do it. So if you agree to it, he’ll shove his face in between your thighs until the sun goes down. If you try and move away from him because of overstimulation he’ll only pull you back and hold your lower half slightly above the ground so you can wiggle free.

[riovidalupdates]

LAST GIRL STANDING - ii.

previous part

pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader, agatha harkness x fem!reader, rio vidal x fem!reader

summary: you’ve come to learn that you can love more than one person—because you love them in different ways. the problem: they love you in one way. so, who are you in love with and who gets hurt?

warnings: minor cursing.

a/n: apologies for taking so long for an update. my job is about 10+ hours for four days and on my off days i'm working on set designs so i'm usually sleeping when i get the chance. please go back and reread the first part of this series as i had revised and edited parts of it while adding more to it. I will be adding a taglist soon, if you wish to for me to add you, let me know! with that, enjoy!

You headed to the library, your mind still racing with the remnants of your conversation with Wanda from last night. You had a few hours before your film history class started, and you needed time to clear your head before facing Agatha, the insanely attractive TA, who had unknowingly occupied a corner of your heart for the past semester. You didn’t really know Agatha well enough (or at all) to say much about her, aside from the occasional conversation about coursework. Yet, you had spent countless hours thinking about her, imagining what it would be like to know her beyond the confines of the classroom.

There was a familiarity to her presence that was both reassuring and nerve-wracking. The few times you’d spoken outside of lectures never seemed to work in your favor. You were unable to get more than two words out before something catastrophic occurred like spilling coffee on yourself, stepping in a pile of dog shit, and maybe tripping over a tree branch into a pit of mud(you are not god's favorite).

You'd scurry away before Agatha could do anything. In fact, you'd just barely hear a quiet but polite, "Goodbye?" You only glance over your shoulder when you were far enough away, seeing the outline of her body still in the same place but with her stare directly at you.

Getting lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the presence of another leaning over the table and whispering, “Careful, y/n. If you think any harder, you might accidentally unlock the secrets of the universe.”

You blink, glancing up and see Wanda. “Or I might just discover where all my missing socks go. That’s probably a more realistic goal.”

The redhead giggles, pulling out the chair next to you and sits. “Hey, I’d argue that’s an even bigger mystery. You’d probably get a Nobel Prize for solving that one.”

“I fear that will only end with me having more mismatched socks and even more questions. And maybe a headache.”

Wanda smiles, tilting her head to the side as she always does when you humor her. You can’t help the warmth of blush creep up on your cheeks and ears. It was a habit when you had that type of attention from her. It was never necessarily a bad thing. More so, weird because you don’t completely understand it. You do, yet you don’t at least.

You continue to watch the way she falls into a fit of giggles as she scrunches up her nose and leans forward, causing her hair to cascade over her shoulders. There was always elegance surrounding Wanda. Wherever her presence was, it followed.

You are never one to deny how objectively gorgeous the shorter girl is, but there’s more to her than just physical features. More to Wanda than what you and everyone else around her knew, though, her soul radiates an amplified aspect of exactly how natural her beauty is. What you may not know, may be the one thing that fuels it all.

“So, what’s got you in a deep thought?” You hear her ask.

“The fact that we as humans grow limbs. We start off as an egg and then we grow. We grow arms, legs, fat, eyeballs, bones. Everything. We do that. We start as nothing and then boom! We have these…” you frail your arms around in front and Wanda has to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“How about we go get some snacks before you head to class? I hear thinking causes hunger and existential crisis.”

You smile, nodding your head. “I think you need to start reading again. All those romcoms are getting to you.”

And so what if you’re are going through a form of crisis? Wanda is here. It may not be as easy as flipping a switch, but her presence is enough for you to feel 2% of sanity.

-

Today is no different. You stayed after class, lingering just long enough to ask Agatha a question about the upcoming exam, hoping it might lead to a longer conversation.

“Do you have any suggestions for additional reading?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Agatha looked up from the papers she was grading, her expression thoughtful. “There’s a great essay on sexuality and gender within horror films if you’re interested in some extra insight. I can send you the link if you’d like.”

“That would be great,” you replied, and for a moment, your eyes met in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

But then, just like that, she turned back to grading, and the moment was gone. It was always like this—brief glimpses of something deeper, but never enough to grasp. You couldn’t tell if you were reading too much into it, or if there really was a chance that Agatha saw you as more than just another student.

It really shouldn’t be much of a shock to you. The two of you are nothing more than just a student and a teacher assistant. You aren’t friends. She has no need to delve into her personal life with you.

While Agatha has checked out from the conversation, you hadn’t. There’s more that you want to say. Though, the longer you stand frozen in place, the longer the moment has passed. It would be weird to say anything else now.

“Have a good day,” you bid. While leaving the classroom, you  tried to shake off the disappointment that seemed to linger, refusing to be ignored. It had been easier when you could write off your feelings for Agatha as a simple crush, a harmless admiration for someone who probably didn’t know you existed beyond the realm of academia.

You weren't sure what you wanted from her, exactly. A part of you longed for more than the polite interactions, yet another part feared what would happen if that boundary was ever crossed. The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you found yourself second-guessing if you should do anything.

“If you would hold for a minute, L/N!”

“No.”

You’re halfway out the building when he steps in your line of vision. You grip onto the strap of your bag, clutching it close. Must he always act like you two are buds?

Vision chuckles, stopping in front of you and a bit too close than usual. Then again, he’s never been good with boundaries or personal space. He’s like a parasite. Constantly attaching himself to someone and sucking the life out of them if it benefits him, he happens to have a talent of hiding it well enough for it not to be noticed.

While you have negative emotions towards the man, you don’t entirely resent him in ways you wish you did. So what if he does forget about the dinner plans that you spend hours on for him to impress Wanda? Or gets too annoyed for how much time she spends with you (ya know the person who walked in diapers with her)? Or when Wanda mentions that she doesn’t need riches, she only needs sincerity and he gifts her a new car?

Okay, maybe he’s got one too many poor attributes to his character, however, there are aspects that make him not inherently the douchebag you desperately want him to be.

Like—“You are rather a chirpy one, aren’t you?”

You stare at him with no amusement written on your face. “My interests lies anywhere but you.”

He shares the ‘boy next door’ charm of a smile, shoving his hand in his pocket, and kicks the toe of your shoe. “I am here to request a favor,” he starts, “I have upset Wanda by overstepping her boundaries. Before speaking your mind, I have apologized to her this morning—“

“—what is your favor?” You asked annoyed.

“I wish to give Wanda a formal apology. Do you recall when she and I were to attend that music festival a couple years back and then we were unable to for unforeseen circumstances?”

You nodded your head, motioning him to continue on.

“Well, I remember you had mentioned that you knew one of the bands performing because you have a friend apart of it. I just-Wanda was and still is a massive fan. You know our 3 year anniversary is coming up-“

“—you can’t buy tickets?” You snickered.

You could tell he was getting slightly irritated by your interruptions. Good. He should for disrupting your semi-peaceful state of mind.

“Forget it. You’re such a nuisance.” He huffs, walking off and all you can do is give him a wave.

You knew what he was going to ask and you weren’t sure if you would have said yes to it or not..

[dedalvs]

When will humankind learn the lesson of its hubris and begin to heal itself? Also can you recommend any undergraduate or graduate level resources (textbooks etc.) for learning about fiction? I already read Writing Fiction by Burroway. Thanks in advance

January 14, 3182. Make a note of the date and return to this post when it comes.

To your second question, I've never read anything on writing fiction, only writing in general. I've found something valuable in every book on writing, even if there were things in the book I found less valuable. For example, I read Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg, and while there was much of it I didn't care for, there are some passags that have stuck with me 22 years later. When it comes to writing guides, I think the best thing to do is read what interests you while understand that what you are really doing is building your own writing guide inside you. You're absorbing what you find personally meaningful and using it to create your own personal styleguide that, like it or not, you'll be following for the rest of your life. Rather than rejecting that, and trying to decide which text will be the text that tells you how to write, embrace it, realize that you are going to do what you're going to do, and then try to work within that framework. That is, if that's what's happening, how will you approach a styleguide? What will it mean to you to read a very didactic text (i.e. "All serious writers must do x; no serious writer every does y") vs. a loosey-goosey one (e.g. "Dance naked in the garden of your creativity and allow your flowers to bloom!")? What are you looking for in these texts and what will you do with information or strategies that you find valuable?

Returning to Writing Down the Bones, I have to say I found the book to be mostly woo. It was more a kind of self-help/empowerment book than a book on writing, in my opinion. But there is something in there that I'm sure I'd heard before but which finally resonated with me. Specifically, it was the way she articulated that it really, truly doesn't matter what you put on the page when you're drafting. Drafting is not the time to reject. Even some idea comes to you that you find absurd, illogical, thematically inappropriate—whatever. It's not the time to push it away. Indeed, it's wasted effort. Editing and revising is the time to question. If you're writing, you shouldn't let anything stop you—even your own brain.

Why it took till then for this idea to take root, I don't know. It could be how she worded it. It could be that it came at the right time. Perhaps I was more open to new ideas when I was reading this book. It may also have something to do with a transition that had taken place for me in writing. After all, when I started high school, I was not regularly using a computer (we'd only just gotten a computer that stayed at home). When I started writing, I wrote by hand—on paper. It's a much, much different thing to edit and revise when you're writing on paper than it is on when you're working on a computer! I mean, digital real estate is cheap. When you're writing by hand, it can literally hurt to write seven or eight pages—and then to discard them in editing! Right now I'm working on a novel draft where I've decided an entire section needs to come out. If I'd written that by hand?! I can't even imagine.

I guess the tl;dr of it is I don't have a specific text to recommend. Rather, I encourage you to look around and grab anything that interests you. In doing so, though, I encourage you to approach it differently, focusing on what in it you find valuable, without either wholly rejecting it or feeling you have to follow it to the letter like an Ikea manual. I even found something valuable in C. S. Lewis's The Abolition of Man, which I honestly can't believe I read.

If you'd like some fiction advice that may be generally useful no matter what you're writing, this is what I can offer:

A valuable skill to hone is being able to read your work as if you have no other knowledge of it. In other words, you need to be able to read your work like a reader. One of the most difficult things to do with fiction is to cut. You usually have a lot more characterization, a lot more plot points, a lot more detail, etc. than end up on the page. The important question is if you cut something, will the reader notice? Will it actually feel like something's miss it, or will a reader never notice? Mind, I'm not saying that as a writer you can't tell if something is superfluous, or that anything you cut will be superfluous. I'm saying sometimes even if you cut something important a reader will still get the impression that what they are reading is whole and unedited. That isn't a good thing or a bad thing: it's a neutral thing. The question you'll have to answer is what is this whole that the reader is getting, and is that whole something you're satisfied with?

Get multiple rounds of feedback from many different readers. I say this not because it's vital, because beta readers are important, because you have to have multiple perspectives on your work, etc. None of that. Getting feedback from many different readers is a form of self-care on the part of the writer. I was deathly afraid of feedback as a young writer. I welcomed praise, sure, but anything else felt too painful to bear. This changed when I took a short fiction class at Berkeley. Suddenly a short story of mine wasn't getting one round of feedback: it was getting fourteen. And not just from the professor, but from fellow students. This was a minor revolution for me in terms of accepting feedback. If I were to take, say, one round of feedback, certainly there would be some praise, but there would also be notes like "awkward phrasing", "why did x character do y?", "this is unclear", "too much description", etc. These things would burn me. I would seethe reading them, and it would hurt so deeply. But! Imagine that one of them circles a paragraph and writes "too much description" and then the other thirteen readers say absolutely nothing at all about that paragraph—maybe one even puts a smiley face next to it. THAT puts the criticism in its proper context. Maybe your writing isn't too bad! Maybe there isn't too much description. Maybe that particular reader just wasn't vibing with it, and maybe that's okay. And then let's look at it from the other perspective. Say thirteen out of fourteen papers have a sentence marked and all of them say things like "huh?", "what's this mean?", "confusing", etc. Guess what? The sentence is probably confusing. And for some reason if everyone's saying the same thing it hurts a lot less. It means, yeah, you probably made a little mistake, and that's okay. It's not one person singling you out, and it's not the case that they don't know what they're talking about. I can't emphasize enough how freeing it is to look at reviews of your work if you have a handful or more to draw from rather than just a single good friend.

It's okay to write the fun part first. You may have a plot device you're really excited about, but to get there, you have to introduce your characters, have them get together, have them go to a place, meet someone else, etc. And it may take time and energy to write all that. You may feel pressured to get through that before you get to the part you really want to write. You certainly can, but you do not have to. I don't know if younger writers can appreciate exactly what it means to have a computer. You can write a little bit now and literally copy and paste it into some other document later. Try doing that with a typewriter! You can write something like "Insert paragraphs later of characters traveling to x location". You can even drop a variable in there so it's easy to find with the search function later (e.g. "ZZZZZ insert scene description here"—now you just need to search for "ZZZZZ"). You can put it in a different color on the screen so it's easy to find when scrolling. You can paste a freaking photo into your document! It's extraordinary what you can do with a computer that you couldn't do in years past. You've got a ton of options. But most importanly, when your work is done, no one will know what order you wrote it in.

In fiction, nothing has to happen. Villains don't have to be punished; heroes don't have to win; characters don't have to have a specific arc that comes to some conclusion. Honestly, one of the tropes (if you can even call it a trope) that I find most frustrating in sequels for movie franchises is after the characters are introduced, they take a few character and assign to them the major story conflict, and then for the rest, they give them a mini arc. It's like, "Mondo 2: Exploding the Mondoverse sees our hero Larjo Biggins take on new villain the Krunge as the very core of the Mondoverse is threatened with destruction! Also, Siddles Nuli learns its okay to be left out sometimes and she shouldn't get her feelings hurt, and Old Mucko learns that even though technology is advancing, sometimes good old fashioned common sense is just what the doctor ordered!" If you get to the end of your story, and you feel it's done, you don't have to panic if you suddenly realize we don't know whether Hupsi ever made it to Bumbus 7. It's okay if Story A is resolved but Story B is not.

I don't care if you used Trope A in your new story even though you used Trope A in your past seven stories and neither should you. Seriously, you think anyone was complaining when Agatha Christie put out another mystery novel? "Oh. Mystery again, huh? Gee, we were all hoping you'd write a book about the struggles traditional fishing villages are facing in the wake of industrial modernization." No we fucking weren't!

I hope you find some of this useful. Whether you did or not, though, be sure you enjoy what you're doing. If you are, you're doing the right thing.

[poppadom0912]

Excuses

Warnings: Mentions of fainting, diabetes, canon-typical injuries

Summary: You suffer the consequences just because your teacher thought you were making excuses.

A/N: First fic of 2024!!! I had plans that I was going to post weekly in the new year just like last year but things went downhill. This january and february has had its very good but also really bad moments and even writing this was a struggle. I've found myself in a weird place of wanting to write but struggling and all of a sudden not being able to balance my schoolwork and writing. So I took a lil step back to solely focus on my work but looking at everything now, my fic updates will be much less frequent but hopefully just as or if not, more fun to read.

I feel bad for not saying or posting anything since the new year but I'm here now and hopefully will be more alive. I've got lots planned for you beautiful people, several series and way too many fics in my drafts that I cannot wait for you all to read. This wasn't as long or as juicy as I intended but my brain completely failed me so I hope this is good enough. I initially wanted to post this at the beginning of March but I finished the final editing today so here you go!!

Final note before we start, I have general knowledge about diabetes but that's all from my grandma. I have no idea if it's the same for teenagers so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Happy reading!!

Your biology teacher had been on maternity for three weeks now and you were seriously contemplating life.

Because of the crappy rules surrounding maternity leave, when your teacher refused to return before her three months ended, your school had a supply teacher fill in for her till she came back.

Since day one, you knew you hated her.

It was mid lesson and you knew as soon as you started feeling sluggish that your sugar levels were dropping. Your thoughts were only confirmed when your Dexcom receiver let you know of your decreasing glucose.

This wasn't a usual occurrence. Will and Jay always made sure you had eaten enough and you had the means to maintain the needed glucose levels so that nothing happened.

Alas, you were up late revising and you were stressing about keeping up your good grades. Jay was rushing you out the door because he needed to go to a scene he'd just been called to and Will was out walking Kol and hadn't seen you leave.

In conclusion, it'd been a hot minute since you last ate something.

The school were well aware of your diabetes. It was one of the very important things your brothers stressed them about when you first started.

Most students knew about it actually, having seen your Dexcom and not understanding since a diabetic child apparently wasn't common according to them.

So, when you randomly pulled out a snack from your bag mid class, no one questioned it and instead would make sure you were okay. There'd never been a problem before in school and everyone wanted it to stay that way.

However, this new teacher, Mrs Byrne was apparently completely unaware of your medical condition.

"Y/N. You know the rules about eating in class." She said strictly, pulling away all the attention from the board onto you.

She stopped you in the middle of opening the packet of fruit gummies. You frowned, looking at her confused along with your classmates.

"I have diabetes." You said bluntly, continuing to open the packet. "I don't eat this and I'll pass out."

Mrs Byrne only rolled her eyes, smiling at you condescendingly. "I've heard that excuse hundreds of times, give those to me."

You scoffed at the audacity, refusing to hand over what was yours.

It was when she started walking towards your desk with a pep in her step that the entire class got involved. Their raised voices overlapped, some angrier than others over what was happening.

However, you too were Stubborn alike to your brothers so you kept as firm of a grip of the packet. You turned a blind eye to the anger fuelled cover teacher. You continued to smile as she spewed threats of all sorts.

Due to your frustration and annoyance over the teacher who wanted to take your gummies away, you didn't notice how everything started change; how hard it was to move your eyes and lips, your limbs getting heavier and you thoughts slowly getting muddled up.

Lost in a daze, you were no longer able to fight back when she pulled harder, successfully snatching the small packet out of your hands. It was now that the class got furious, your friends were already up and at your side but now they were verbally attacking the teacher.

Fed up with her petty behaviour, you were going to get up and go to the nurses office who would take care of you but getting out your seat was harder said than done.

With one of your friends help, you weren't too sure who was helping you from your hazy sight that cleared when you blinked too many times.

You were wobbly on your feet, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the front of the classroom but before you could leave, you felt your legs give out and everything went black.

*****

It turned out that supposed crime scene that he was imminently needed at was nothing but a prank by a bunch of college boys resulting in a grumpy Hank putting them in cuffs and having them fined for a very reasonable reason.

That's how the rest of the unit found themselves finishing up paperwork, catching up about life in general as they debated what they were getting for lunch.

Jay was smugly sitting back, eyes flickering between Kevin and Adam who were bickering over something trivial when his phone rung, catching everyone's attention.

They were all so bored and normally when one of their phones went off during work hours, it meant something came up and they were needed.

In interest, everyone turned their heads towards Jay and waited for him to tell them they got a crime scene.

Picking up his phone, Jay's brows furrowed at the number, confused as to why your school was calling him in the middle of the day. They'd only call him if two things happened: You'd gotten in trouble or you got hurt.

"Hello. Is this Y/N Halsteads brother Jay?" A voice he couldn't recognised asked, most likely some lady from the main office.

"Yeah, that's me." Jay confirmed, sitting up in preparation for whatever he was going to be told.

"So sorry to interrupt you sir but Y/N collapsed in class." The lady said with guilt laced in her words. "Your other brother didn't pick up the phone. We called to let you know we had to call the paramedics and they've taken her to Chicago Med."

"Uh yeah." Jay said, collecting his jacket and keys. "Yes, thank you."

Not waiting for a reply, Jay hung up and quickly knocked on Hank's office door frame.

"Sarge, I gotta get Y/N-"

"Go get her. We're done here."

*****

Wanting to pull his hair out, Will rubbed his eyes in frustration, glaring at his patients scans that only confused him further. He was tired and was coming to half way through his twenty four hour shift.

"Dr Halstead- Uh, Dr Rhodes in T4." Maggie stumbled, looking down at her brick and making sure she read it correctly.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, confused as to why Maggie changed her mind which she usually never did.

"It's Y/N."

Now fully awake, Will followed Connor towards the ambulance bay where you were being rolled in. You were groggily sitting up on the stretcher, you hair a mess and a few scratches around your face and hands from when you fell.

"Sylvie, what happened?" Will asked the blonde paramedic while looking you over. He desperately wanted to check you over himself but let Connor do his thing. He really did not need Ms Goodwin on his case today.

"Teachers didn't tell us much but her classmates said she collapsed after not being able to eat." Sylvie relayed the minimal information she knew, shrugging her shoulders when the two doctors looked at her weirdly. "No one would tell us anything more."

"Y/N, it's Connor. Can you hear me kid?" Connor said while pulling out his penlight. He was like another brother to you, his concern just as high. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You groaned, mumbling nonsense with your eyes screwed closed. Your words were mostly unintelligible but Will understood them mere seconds later.

Fixing the problem you complained about, Will turned down the lights and let Connor continue fussing over you.

It didn't take long to find out the cause of your collapse, Will sighing at the news when he read the numbers from your tests.

"I thought she was always on top of her sugar levels." Connor said, closing the room door so you could sleep in peace.

And what he said was completely true but they weren't aware of why you couldn't today specifically of all days.

"She is." Will said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "Maybe her dexcom malfunctioned or something."

Connor hummed, agreeing with his friend.

"Hmm, maybe."

*****

Arriving at Med, Will gave Jay a detailed rundown of everything he new about your medical state but also the events pre your hospital arrival.

Getting a good look at you, holding your hand in his and kissing you on your forehead, Jay was more than happy to leave you in your oldest brothers safe hands while he got to the bottom of this entire ordeal.

He noticed Sylvie was still at Med, Foster mentioning they were running low on a few supplies so they needed some stocking up. Jay took this opportunity to interview the two paramedics and try to get further understanding on this situation that wasn't making much sense to him.

Arriving at your school, Jay had some thoughts in mind but they weren't very concrete and his confidence wasn't as strong as he'd like it to be.

Walking into the school, Jay immediately noticed an entire class sitting and standing around in the corridor waiting in front of the principals office.

One of the girls who had been sitting in a chair had caught sight of Jay, her eyes widening before she smiled, gently nudging the girl next to her and pointing in his direction. The girls reaction was the exact same.

This created a sort of domino effect as the boy next to her noticed Jay and everyone was telling the other of his sudden arrival. The once silent corridor was now beginning to fill with murmurs and whispers, all their eyes glued onto his figure that moved down the corridor, their shocked faces quickly changing into smiles and smirks.

It seems that Jay had a reputation of sorts.

"Why are you making so much noise? What did I just say about talking-"

The principal cut himself off from his scolding when he suddenly noticed Jay's presence, his face blanching as all the pieces clicked into place.

"Detective Halstead! What a surprise, we weren't expecting to see you so soon-"

This time Jay cut him off, not too bothered about his lack manners. "My brothers with Y/N at the hospital so I thought there was no other perfect time."

The principal remained silent.

"Now, why don't you explain to me why my sister fainted under your watch?"

The students behind Jay couldn't help but snicker knowingly.

[tojisbbg]

𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙗𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨

❝secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought; maybe i just wanna be yours.❞  

♡ gojo satoru ♡

a/n: writing another gojo smut since the last one i wrote of him flopped. 😞💔

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3

(also, a lot of you have been dming me and it's honestly so sweet, shoot me a message anytime :D)

content: gojo satoru x fem!reader, reader is extremely horny lol (hypersexual??), sassy gojo (he's a little dick sometimes), fluff, smut, best friends to lovers, not edited.

...

"well, you look like shit." gojo snorted, entering your dorm room as you woke up from your short-lived night's sleep. you let out a yawn, doing that weird whole body shaking thing before sitting up; rubbing your eyes to see your best friend more clearly.

he looked equally worse as you, dark eye bags, chapped lips, arms crossed over his chest along with a scowl painted on his lips.

"thanks, you don't look any less shitty yourself." you snickered, leaning against the headboard as you watched him roll his eyes before making his way towards your bed; sitting on the edge.

"i wonder why." the white haired male grumbled, a small glare thrown at your direction.

"hmm? i don't know what you're talking about." you innocently batted your eyes, making him narrow his eyes.

"i would've been done studying by two in the morning if you would've stopped blowing up my phone every two seconds about how roughly fucking me would help you memorize the formulas better." gojo complained, making you bite back a laugh.

"well, you could've just go on dnd or block me." you shrugged, indirectly calling him a dumbass.

"you threatened to kill yourself if i did that."

"oh."

"anyways, what time did you stop studying and hit the lights?" gojo changed the topic, examining your tired face.

"i don't know, i think five-thirty?" you tried to think hard, but, recently all these nights where you pulled all-nighters have been a blur.

"not bad, i slept around that time too." he sighed, rubbing his temples while wincing in pain.

"hurts?" you asked, hearing him hum in response.

"yeah, i took painkillers before getting here but it's not really helping." gojo groaned before looking at you through half-lidded eyes, his words making you pout.

"well, i can't really help you with that. but, i can offer you some mind-blowing head instead." a smirk tugged on your lips as you threw a wink at him, making gojo look at you with an unamused look.

"this fucking early in the morning too? god, it's barely seven in the morning." he stared at you in disbelief, making you chuckle.

"jeez, i'm kidding. no need to act like you got a stick up your ass all the time." you stretched, while gojo scrolled on his phone through social media along with his emails.

"you gonna do final revisions on the way to campus?" he asked you with curious eyes, making you let out a hysteric laugh.

"fuck no, i stayed up till five something reading and writing notes until my fingers went numb. i couldn't even fuck myself to sleep because of the pain." you casually answered, making gojo's nose scrunch up in distaste.

"fucking hell, y/n, you're filthy." gojo commented, making you laugh before you crawled towards him, sitting on his lap as you pinched his cheeks.

"but you love me." you cooed, squishing his cheeks into a pout as he let you. gojo's arms instinctively were wrapped around your waist to make sure that you don't fall and crack your head open.

"unfortunately." he sighed.

this is how it has always been for you and gojo, his inevitable torture starting from when you both were in diapers. both of your families were extremely close, your mother being high school besties with his mom.

of course, both women decided to continue this legacy by making sure that their children grew up together. so, you've been stuck to gojo by the hip.

gojo's family was extremely wealthy, like filthy rich. his father owned one of the biggest company in all of japan. your parents, however, owned a humble sushi place in kyoto.

nonetheless, gojo never looked down on you or treated you like you were some ant that could be stepped on. he was like your protective shadow, scolding you when you acted out, being there to comfort you when you were down or struggling, and he dealt with all your stupid jokes.

as you both grew older, puberty hit like a truck.

no, not even a truck; like a fucking tsunami.

your body matured and your hormones went absolutely wild. you don't know what the hell happened, but you craved for sexual pleasure so often. after discovering the magic of masturbation, you did the act almost religiously.

your jokes were pure filth, full of suggestive language. it was like the only thing that circled your mind was dick, dick, dick, sex, sex, cum, cum.

no, quite literally.

you were horny almost 24/7 for some unknown reason.

oh, and you were still a virgin. yeah, shocking.

your situation wasn't helped after realizing how fucking hot your best friend became either. gojo began to hit the gym, basically turning into a gym rat in high school as you accompanied him after school every day before heading home together. he became beefy and so fucking tall, nearly 6'4ft.

no wonder why girls in high school chased him like he was the jackpot. well, they still do now that you both attended college.

though he was a pretty face, gojo was smart as hell. well, the both of you are; it was kinda like a mutual academic rivalry you both had. of course, it was all for shits and giggles.

he was a math nerd, meanwhile, you hated the subject with a burning passion. you liked english better, as your reading and writing skills were beyond talented. so, you and gojo made a fair deal, he'd help you with your math homework while you'd help him with english.

sometimes you both would do each others homework when it was time to cram study for other subjects. the subject you both have a common liking towards was science.

people sometimes mistakenly thought that you and the snow haired male were a couple. the truth is, you both were just super close best friends. gojo got used to your dirty jokes and remarks, no longer affected by them, as it was like common language for him now.

"can you eat the damn banana like a normal person for once?"

"why? you wish i was deepthroating the banana in your pants instead?"

"y/n, which outfit looks better? the first or second one?"

"neither, stay naked and let me smash, pleaseee."

"oh my god!! you look so handsome satoru, i'm literally gonna cum on your face."

"look at you wearing that tight black compression shirt, you slut!"

"put on a shirt and cover those tits before i suck them, toru!"

"y/n, i'm at that one plushie store downtown and there's like a bunch of sanrio shit. imma get that one hello kitty headband you were looking last night for you."

"oh my god?? hello, what the fuck, i'm literally gonna let you say hello to my kitty, toru. ugh, i love you so much."

"do you need help on doing your sit-ups? i could hold your legs down."

"yeah, but don't come too close or else my pussy is gonna start pulsating your name in morse code."

"i don't know what to get you for christmas, y/n."

"how about you lathered up in coconut oil and wrapped in a cute pink coqutte bow under my tree?"

"you horny fuck, oh my god."

"you idiot! i don't care if they taste bad, i told you to suck on those cough drops to help you soothe your throat."

"but i'd rather suck your balls, satoru."

"for the love of god, seek therapy."

"sex therapy with you?"

"you gonna stay on me forever or get ready for class before we're late for our last final exam?" gojo playfully pinched your side, making you yelp as you rubbed the site.

"jerk, i was thinking about how this is the perfect position for me to cockwarm you." you said, earning a flick to the forehead.

"you got ten minutes or i'm leaving you." gojo ignored your whines, standing up with you still clung onto him like a koala.

"satoruuu, i don't wanna go! they're gonna brutally torture me for the next hour based on organic chemistry." you dramatically cried into the crook of his neck.

"the school is gonna kick us out if we don't take this exam, y/n. it's worth like sixty-five percent of our final semester grade. besides, we both studied hard for this. you'll be okay." he rubbed your back comfortingly, making you pull away with a huff.

"you have enough money to buy the entire university, satoru."

"my dad is gonna burn me alive, y/n."

"okay, fine! i have a better solution. how about we start an onlyfans? you know, we both could occasionally do solos or you know... fuck each other too! like-"

"no."

"satoru!! hear me out." you tried to reason, but gojo knew it was all bluffing and you just wanted to stall. so, he forced you down from his hold, making you stand on your feet as you looked at him with a glare.

"ten minutes, you big baby." gojo said before leaving your room.

---

it felt like you just survived a war, coming back home with nothing but trauma written all over your face.

what the fuck was that exam?

all those hours of studying this entire week, sleepless nights, missing meals... all gone to waste?

you punched in your lock combination on the small keypad outside your dorm room, hearing the small beep as the door unlocked. with a twist of the knob, you opened the door and entered. you saw the familiar pair of shoes by your door, not paying much mind to it as you kicked your own shoes off to the side.

you saw gojo leisurely laying on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

"when did you get here? the exam didn't start until eight." you asked, your voice barely audible from how exhausted you were, physically and mentally.

"like fifteen minutes ago. my proctor started the exam like twenty minutes early by accident, since the clock in that room was broken." he explained, making you nod your head as you walked to the couch.

you tapped his long legs, ushering him to bend them so that you had space to sit. a moment of silence graced the atmosphere, neither of you uttering a single word.

"it was shit." you both blurted out at the same time, looking at each other with equal shock.

"you too?!"

"fuck yeah. i mean like, what kind of formulas were those?!"

"i know right?? it was like another language, completely different from the review packets."

"man, i should've just given up and fucked myself to sleep. at least, i'd get some good sleep."

"bro, you and fucking yourself. one night without having your fingers inside your pussy won't kill you." gojo sat up, shaking his head in disbelief that your concern was something so ridiculous.

"uh, yeah it will since you're clearly depriving me of your dick." you retorted, making him roll his eyes.

"whatever. what are you gonna do now?" he asked, leaning towards the small table to grab his water bottle, opening it to take a sip.

"have rough kinky sex with you." the words casually flew out of your mouth, catching the snowy haired male off guard as he choked on his water.

"i'm being serious!" he said in between his coughs, watching your laugh at his reaction.

"i'm gonna sleep, what else, idiot? i need my brain to rest and recover from all that trauma. besides, we do this every time when it's finals season, satoru. you got amnesia or something?" you joked, patting his back to help him stop coughing.

"sorry, my brain is malfunctioning. my dorm or yours?" gojo asked after clearing his throat.

"since you're already here, let's sleep in mine. i'm gonna go change into something more comfortable. if you wanna change out of those, there's a spare pair of your sweats and t-shirt in my closet." you informed him, making him nod as you both got up and headed towards your bedroom. you grabbed your clothes and headed into the bathroom to freshen up and change into them, giving up your bedroom to have gojo change.

after finishing up, you walked back into your room, seeing gojo already inside your bed; looking like he was half dead. you snorted, walking over to the other side before placing yourself on the empty spot.

"don't hog the blanket, or else i'll kill you."

"no promises."

with that being said, you scooted closer to gojo, in need of feeling his body's warmth against you. it wasn't anything new, this was sort of a tradition you guys did after finals week was over. you both slept for hours together.

you threw your legs over his waist, tugging onto gojo's shirt as he laid down while facing the ceiling.

"hold me, 'toru." you mumbled, your movements slightly bringing him back to life. gojo groaned in annoyance, turning his body to now face you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"better?" he spoke into your hair, which was slightly tickling his nose. you nodded your head, your cheek pressed against his chest as you inhaled his scent.

gojo always smelled sweet with a mixture of expensive cologne.

a few minutes passed, and you could hear his heartbeat slowing down, indicating that he was falling asleep.

"hey, you awake?" you poked his cheek, making his eyebrows furrow.

"no." gojo murmured, eyes still closed.

"you know, satoru, if you jerk off before going to sleep then your sleep is gonna be like ten times better. science says it helps release stress and improves blood flow. if you want, i can jerk-"

"go to sleep, y/n." gojo sternly cut you off along with your wonderful visual of how you'd jerk him off, giving your thigh a light smack before resting his hand there. you let out a small whine, playfully biting his cheek.

you saw gojo's eyes scrunch, making you sigh.

"sorry." you mumbled to yourself, as gojo most likely didn't hear you since it seemed like he was already asleep. you pressed a small kiss on the spot you bit before snuggling into his neck. your arms and legs tightly wrapped around his body, fingers finding home between his snowy locks.

"it's okay." was the last thing you heard before you were no longer able to resist sleep.

---

gojo stirred in his sleep, mumbling incoherent words as he felt the constant buzzing noise vibrating on the bed. he painfully opened one eye, half-lidded, as he realized you were still tightly tucked way in his arms. you snored softly against his chest, lips pouted, making him tempted to kiss you.

the snow hair male tried to find the source of the buzzing sound, grabbing a hold of his phone only to see that his phone was dead. gojo's eyebrows furrowed in confusion 'cause then what the hell is it?

his eyes landed on your phone which was shoved under your back and gojo momentarily saw your screen flicker open. bingo! it was your phone that was annoyingly going off.

gojo grabbed your phone, deciding to silence it for you, even though you were passed out like you're dead; so you most likely didn't hear it anyways. but, he was a light sleeper and your stupid phone was keeping him awake.

as the screen flickered open again, gojo saw that you had well over a thousand notifications. his eyes widened, you were never the type to be social. of course, you weren't a loner or something of that sort; you had friends whom were also gojo's friends.

but, the both of you kept your friend groups small and restricted so avoid any unnecessary drama.

"tumblr?" gojo mumbled under his breath, knowing that it wasn't his place to snoop around. but, he couldn't help but feel a little jealous. the notifications were all indicating that people hearted a post you made along with commenting hearts and all that shit.

a weird feeling bubbled inside him, something in between the lines of possessiveness and anger.

so, he decided to investigate, knowing that it was wrong but he couldn't help himself. it was convenient that his face id was added onto your phone, just like how yours was added onto his. after unlocking your phone, he found the tumblr app.

at first, gojo thought it was a dating website as it sounded very familiar to tinder. but, he would soon be proven wrong as he saw a feed full of different blogs and writing.

gojo's curiosity ran wild, silently exploring the new waters he was introduced to. he clicked on your notifications list which was flooded with heart and comments.

not any comments, but horrendously down bad thirsty comments.

sanemiswh0re: ahhh author!! i'm literally running laps, this was so good!

localbbg: this was pure filth and i loved every word of it!

cherrytones: hello?? i need a toru in my life! a tear just ran down my thigh.

yourhotgf: bro wtf, white haired men 🔛🔝 of me!! toru with that big dick energy?? lord, i need him in me so bad.

gojo's eyes widened at the comments while he scrolled. toru? it's a silly little nickname you've been calling him ever since you were kids. since when did you write stories? and... they were about him too?

he clicked on one of the comments which led him to said story, making him smirk as the naughty photo used in the border was enough to give him an idea. gojo settled in bed comfortable, with you still wrapped around him, without a fucking clue of what that menace just found.

"jesus.." gojo breathed out in shock, reading the pure filth you wrote of him and the 'y/n' used in the story, but he assumed that she was based off of you. it was no use denying it, the male character toru resembled too much of his personality and the female character y/n resembled you a lot too.

he wasn't even halfway done yet, but it seemed like you wrote an entire hour long porn script. your writing was so descriptive, describing the sex scenes in such a pornographic yet sensual way. gojo would be lying if he said it didn't make his heart flutter and cock throb.

were your fantasies of him always this dirty?

did you always want to be manhandled by him? praised and teased? being slutted out? a mix of a gentle dom that was a little witty?

god, where did you hide all of this?

of course, you were never ashamed of your vulgar comments and jokes that you threw at him. but, gojo always brushed them off because he grew accustomed to it. however, this was completely new to him.

your smutty writing of him and you made him feel hot and bothered. he knew you were dirty, but not this dirty.

you began to wiggle in his arms, stirring awake as you made a few groaning sounds.

"hmm, time... toru." you groggily asked, eyes still shut as you waited for a response.

"it's 8:23." gojo replied, still not bothered to place your phone back to where he found it. instead, he continued to surf through your dashboard to which he found more of these smut of him.

"why are you awake so soon?" you yawned, cracking an eye open only to wince from the sudden light exposure.

"had a leg cramp." he lied, making you grimace.

"ouch, you should've waken me up then." you commented, your hand find his as you played with his really long and thick fingers. it was a habit to toy around with the rings that wrapped around them.

"you looked too peaceful to disturb. besides, i found something to read in order to kill time." gojo boldly said, making you hum in amusement.

"oh? and since when have you been a bookworm? please, do enlighten me." you teased, making him chuckle. a smirk etched onto his lips, trying to collect his words before attempting to send you into cardiac arrest.

"it's actually very interesting, i have to say. i never thought i'd be into erotic romance." he started out, and the very unexpected words leaving his mouth made your heart pound inside your chest.

he was reading that shit besides you and you had no clue?

"jeez, and you call me a horny dog?" you scoffed.

"well, maybe it's torusluvr who's the real horny dog." he dropped the bomb, making your heart stop it's usual cardiac rhythm as you heard your tumblr account's username. you shot awake from bed, eyes meeting his playful ones as the color drained from you face.

"what? how did you-" you were a stammering and confusing mess, searching for your phone until you looked at his hand.

"looking for this?" gojo waved your phone, the screen on full blast lighting and filled with words of nothing but sex.

"give me my phone back, satoru." you panicked, trying to grab your phone from his grasp. but, gojo's body structure was stronger, bulkier and taller than yours; so you struggled.

however, gojo took your struggle as a form of amusement. he noticed how your face was covered in a blush from being caught red-handed, movements so shaky and alarmed.

it was kind of cute.

"nuh uh." gojo suddenly tossed your phone to the side before grabbing both of your hands. a yelp escaped from your lips as you were pinned to the bed in mere seconds, gojo's body hovering above yours as he slotted himself between your legs.

you gulped nervously, your cheeks growing warmer as it suddenly felt too embarrassing to look at gojo in the eyes. you were a mere ant compared to his body, his stature standing at six feet four inches, and his body was beefy as hell yet so soft to the touch.

"does this turn you on, y/n? hm? being manhandled by someone who's twice your size." the white haired male teased, his husky voice due to his previous slumber sent heat waves to your cunt.

"satoru-"

your words were cut short as gojo leaned closer to you, grinding his hard on against your throbbing cunt, making you gasp.

"satoru? what happened to toru?" he whispered, shoving his face into the crook of your neck, taking a minute to inhale the scent of your perfume which has been permanently engraved into his senses and brain.

"stop joking around, we're friends... best friends." you tried to reason, watching his eyes darken.

"oh? and do all best friends write porn worthy shit about each other?" gojo snickered, pressing soft kisses along your jaw. your throat went dry, words getting stuck.

"i guess we can't be best friends anymore 'cause i wanna recreate all that shit that i read— with you." a smirk tugged on his lips and before you could even process what the hell was about to go down, you let out a small whimper after feeling him bite down on your collarbone before peppering soft kisses on the abused skin afterwards.

"toru... please." you desperately begged, needing some kind of friction between you and him to relieve the ache between your thighs.

"i bet if i touch that cute little pussy of yours, my fingers are gonna come out glossy wet, yeah? should we test it out, y/n?" gojo continued to pester you with his teasing remarks, making you blush further at them as you were to embarrassed to have him find out about the wet patch that was created on your panties by now.

you shyly nodded but this wasn't enough for gojo to take for an answer. you felt a small pinch on the plush flesh of your thigh, making you wince.

"use your words, y/n. you didn't shy out when you were right all that stuff about me and you." he scoffed, making you whine in embarrassment.

"touch me, toru... i need to feel your fingers." your voice was meek, throat getting dry as you desperately bucked your hips upwards. gojo cocked an eyebrow, watching your body squirm underneath him in amusement.

"so needy." gojo laughed, rubbing your thighs before giving it a small squeeze. your body grew warm and your face flushed red from his touch. you've fantasized about this moment for so long and now it was finally happening.

gojo's fingers hooked on the waistband of your shorts about to pull them down until your hand came down to stop his movement. he was a little confused and felt a little guilty because he didn't know if he was moving too fast for you or made you uncomfortable.

"you okay?" gojo asked with genuine concern washed on his face. you bit down on your lips, averting your gaze from his.

"i'm not wearing any lace and my panties aren't even matching with my bra." you said in a little panicked voice. gojo was a handsome jerk and this most definitely wasn't his first time sleeping with someone.

you saw his hookups, they were always the prettiest of the prettiest girls. they looked like polished gems, wearing fancy feminine clothes in contrast with your hobo looking outfits, hair and nails were always done... they were like runway models.

you couldn't help but feel a little insecure. you knew that satoru was different, but that small part of you still felt like perhaps this was still some kind of cruel joke the universe was playing on you.

the books you read always gave the female lead a perfect body free of blemishes, wearing expensive and sexy matching undergarments and so much more.

while here you are with unmatched undergarments, a completely inexperienced virgin who only knew how to shamelessly masturbate to find relief while fantasizing about her best friend.

"hm? so what? they're coming off anyways, princess." gojo reasurred you with a soft smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck, indulging in the sweet taste of his lips. he used the strawberry carmex lipbalm religiously.

the kiss was slightly messy, as you were still a little inexperienced in this area as well. you can't remember the last time you last made out with someone, so your teeth clashed with his here and there. but, gojo never complained, he drank in your mistakes and guided you with the fluid movement of his lips and tongue.

the white haired male gave your bottom lip a gentle bite, one of his hands grabbing your jaw to keep your head in place while his other hand pulled down your shorts. gojo threw the annoying article of clothing on the floor, pulling away as a string of saliva connected the both of you.

he looked down and if it was possible to get any harder than how hard he was right now, gojo thought he might've exploded already. you laid under him like a pretty gem, face flushed and your lips swollen as you panted a little from the breathless kiss. a small grin tugged on his lips, the hand grabbing onto your jaw now coming to stroke your cheek.

"just relax for me, princess. let me show you just how much better reality is than your little stories." gojo whispered, leaving open mouthed kisses on your jaw that were leading south until he was peppering kisses on your neck.

you decided to take a leap and pull your t-shirt off, catching gojo off-guard by your sudden eagerness. a genuine smile was forming on his lips at how adorable you looked. your cotton panties had a strawberry pattern on it with a tiny pink bow on the front and your bra was a solid blue color; both of which satoru is well familiar with as the two of you did your laundry together.

"stop staring." you embarrassingly pouted, making him let a raspy chuckle escape his lips.

"can't help it when my best friend is this cute." he teased, pinching your cheek which made you yelp.

"shut up and go back to what you were doing." you nagged, making him cock an eyebrow.

"oh? eager are we?" gojo hummed, skillful fingers whisking your bra off in a matter of seconds, your tits spilling out of the cups that held them. you averted your gaze from him after seeing how gojo's eyes widened, feeling your face grow hotter by the second.

"look at me, y/n."

"no."

"look at me."

"eat my ass."

"i will."

"satoru!" you gasped, finally looking at him as his response caught your attention. however, gojo didn't pay too much mind to it as brought a hand down to fondle your tits, watching how you bit your lips at the sudden squeeze.

"don't look away from me, baby. you're such a pretty girl, so let me admire you for a bit, yeah?" with that being said, gojo latched his lips onto on of your nipples, making you whimper.

"shit.." you moaned, feeling the tip of his tongue flicking the sensitive swollen bud. he peered up to meet your eyes, looking so fucking pretty even with a mouthful of your tits. his stupidly charming blue eyes staring into your half-lidded eyes. you brought to stroke his cheek as he continued to suckle on your nipple.

"pretty boy." you cooed, feeling his hand kneed the plush flesh of your thighs before giving it a little spank, making you squeal. being the tease he is, he gave your nipple a gentle bite before releasing the bud with a 'pop' sound.

"you wore my favorite panties." gojo complimented, making you scoff.

"stop saying that to make me feel better about my mix-matched undergarments." you rolled your eyes.

"you could think that my words are lies but it still won't change the fact that i jerked off with those same panties." he shamelessly shrugged after revealing such a dirty secret, making your mouth gape open.

"huh?!" you were at a loss for words, but, for some reason it made your pussy throb at the thought of your hot best friend masturbating to the thought of you.

even if he used your panties.

"mhm... now, let's put them to some use again." gojo pulled down his shorts along with his boxers, completely disposing them to the floor to meet with the rest of your clothes.

your eyes shamelessly came in contact with his cock and you couldn't help but harshly gulp. gojo was fucking hung, not lacking in any area. his dick had to be at least a good seven or eight inches long, a single vein running on the side of the shaft, with a pretty blush pink tip that was angrily leaking with precum.

"feel a little overwhelmed, princess?" gojo sensed your shock, and you truthfully nodded.

"y-yeah... i never-"

"wait, you're still a virgin, y/n?" he genuinely asked and you thinned your lips before nodding. gojo gasped, slapping a hand on his mouth.

"what the fuck? and you wrote all of that with no experience??" gojo was truly amazed as you shyed away from his eyes.

"it's okay if you don't wanna, you know." your throat went dry, a little disappointed that it would end this way.

"fuck you? of course i wanna fuck you, princess. but, are you sure you're okay with me taking your virginity? we could stop and forget about it if you want to, no pressure." he asked in a soft tone, rubbing your hips in a comforting way.

"yeah, i want you to take it, toru. i trust you." you gave him a girlish smile, making his heart jump.

"okay then. i'm gonna prep you real good to make sure it doesn't hurt as much." gojo pressed a tender kiss on your lips. he stroked his cock a few times as a husky groan left his lips, making him sound so sexy.

gojo hooked two fingers to the side of your panties and lifted them up before sliding his cock inside the fabric. you moaned at the feeling of his warm and hard cock sliding past your folds, his wet tip nudging and coating your clit with his precum.

"fuck. you're so wet, baby." gojo breathed out, leaning down to suck on your tits as he continued to thurst his hips back and forth between your folds. your juices lubricated his cock and the stimulation provided to your clit with every nudge of his tip made your eyes roll back.

"oh my god... just like that, toru. please!" you begged, your hand finding purchase to his snowy locks as you pushed his face further to your tits, as he licked and sucked your nipples. gojo's hips never faltered, continuing to glide his thick dick between your slit, feeling your clit throb.

you felt your orgasm building up, making your breath hitch as you whimpered. after a few more thrusts, you gushed on top of his cock as gojo cummed on your pussy, messily spreading both of your juices on your cunt.

gojo pulled his cock out of your panties, seeing how there's a wet patch on the front of your panties. he used his index finger to outline and rub your clit, making you shake from the overstimulation.

"w-wait." you tried to catch your breath but gojo wasn't gonna let you rest until you cummed on his tongue and fingers.

"nope, gotta stretch you out now, princess." he pinched your clit, making your thighs shut close from the sudden impact.

"you little shit." you threw him a playful glare, to which he only stuck his tongue out and use his strong hands to pry your legs open. this time, gojo wasn't going to be so patient. he pulled your panties down and threw them somewhere, his cerulean eyes fixated on your cunt.

"fucking hell." gojo swore under his breath and you couldn't help but think negatively.

"what's wrong?" you asked a little worried.

"i'm trying to hard to not cum again from just looking at this pretty pussy of yours." he groaned, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, watching how it glistened with both your and his cum from the previous pantie fucking session.

you supported yourself on your elbow as your other free hand pulled his head forward, crashing your lips onto his. you kissed him with need, sucking on his bottom lip before giving it a bite. gojo began to slide his middle finger between your wet folds, making sure to rub your clit at a fast pace.

you moaned into his mouth, which gojo happily drank as he continued to give the neglected bud some attention. his finger stopped at your hole, experimentally shoving it in a little bit. you winced at the sudden intrusion as gojo's fingers were longer and thicker than yours.

"shh.. it's okay." gojo assured, pecking your lips as he entered his finger. your walls clamped down on his finger and gojo couldn't help but groan at how fucking tight you were.

"shit, gonna have to stretch you out quite a bit if this sweet pussy of yours is gonna take my cock. don't wanna rip you apart, baby." gojo chuckled, kissing your cheek before sliding his body down until his face was directly above your wet aching cunt.

gojo licked a fat stripe up your cunt, eyes rolling back at the taste of your pussy. you tasted so fucking good and he knew he'd get addicted. he slurped up all your juices, his tongue circling your clit before flicking it. you gripped onto his hair, pulling his mouth closer to your needy pussy as you basically humped his face.

gojo decided to add in another finger and a guttural moan escaped your throat, feeling him scissoring in the two thick digits in and out of your hole. your legs began to shake at the amount of pleasure you were getting from being tongue and finger fucked at the same time.

"fuck! augh~ i-i'm gonna c-cum!" you moaned as you felt the knot on your lower stomach tighten, your hole enclosing around his fingers as you creamed on gojo's fingers.

"that's it, there you go, princess." gojo praised, drinking up all your cum and licking you clean. your breathing was irregular as you were trying to calm down your erratic heartbeat.

gojo looked up at you with a slutty expression, his lips glossy with his own spit and your cum along with his chin dripping with your arousal.

"think you ready for me, baby?" he teased, placing a playful kiss on your clit before slotting himself between your legs. gojo's hard cock rest on your inner thigh, his eyes giving you a glimmer full of tease and play.

"i think that if you don't put your dick inside me within the next minute i'll kill myself." you dramatically responded, clearly not in the right state of mind due to pleasure fogging up your mind. gojo laughed at your words, leaning in to kiss you.

you could taste yourself on your tongue, but that did not bother you as much as having your throbbing hole empty.

"toruuu~ pleaseee." you whined, bucking your hip up to his in an attempt to get some friction to relieve the ache between your legs.

"my pretty girl needs something, hm?" he continued his banter, making you pout. you trailed your hand down and grabbed his cock, giving it a few pumps and watched your best friend crumble from your touch.

"need your cock inside me, toru." you said in a sultry voice, using the tip of dick to rub up and down your slit, parting your folds. gojo decided to stop being mean and help you, grabbing the base of his thick cock and rubbing it on your dripping wet cunt.

his tip now rested on top of your hole, his eyes looking up at you for further movement. you nodded your head, hands going to the side to grab the sheets.

"it's gonna really hurt bad for a minute but i promise it'll get better. i'll go slow and gentle, 'kay?" gojo offered you a soft smile as reassurance, to which you nodded, fully trusting him to take care of you.

"can you come closer." you asked in a meek voice, and gojo nodded as he leaned forwards so that you could wrap your arm around his neck.

gojo pushed in the fat bulbous tip of his cock, the stretch of something fatter and bigger than his and your fingers immediately burned.

you winced in pain, making him apologize and you told him that it was okay. gojo stayed like that for a little before thrusting the tip of his dick in and out of you to help you get a little used to the intrusion. it took every fiber of his body to have enough self-control to not shove the entire length of his cock inside your cunt and use it like his personal cocksleeve.

"look at me, y/n." he breathed out, making you open your eyes as your eyes were a little glossy. gojo never fucked a virgin before, and you were his best friend, so he wanted to be extra careful to not hurt you.

"i'm sorry." gojo quickly blurted out and you were confused for a quick minute, until you let out a pained cry as he shoved his entire cock inside your pussy inch by inch. he quickly latched his lips onto yours, swallowing your cries as his thumb came down to play with your clit.

your nails dug into his flesh, tears streaming down your face as the stretch of his cock was so painful.

"hurts so much, toru." you sniffled, mumbling your words on his lips.

"it would've hurt more if i went inch by inch slowly. you'll be okay, baby, trust me." with that being said, gojo slid his cock fully out, your pussy missing the feeling of being full. you mewled at the loss of contact, until he slammed his hips back into you, shoving his cock in one go.

within each slow thrust that he gave you, the pain faded away and you were soon drowning in pleasure. your cunt clamped down on his cock, the delicious feeling of the vein on his cock grazing against your wet walls made your eyes roll back.

"such a sweet pussy, fuck you're so tight." he grunted, grabbing your hips in place as his pace was unforgiving. his cock curved and kissed every inch inside your cunt, making you grip the sheets for dear life.

"satoru! i- fuck. wait, it's too much!" you cried out, your vision becoming blurry and you couldn't tell if it was from the tears that were forming due to overstimulation or from exhaustion.

maybe both.

"you could take it, princess. this pussy was fucking made for my cock." gojo moaned, grabbing the back of your knees before pushing them back to your head; placing you in a mating press.

this new angle gave him a better view of your tits bouncing with every thrust along with every ripple of your ass that came in contact with his heavy balls. your free hand came down to play with your clit as the other hand grabbed the back of his head to give him a sloppy kiss.

"feels so good, toru." you slurred, as his cock continued to kiss your cervix, bullying it's way in and out of your aching hole.

"gonna fuck you so dumb, till you become mine." he grinned against your skin, biting down as he placed a slap on your pussy, making you let out a cry.

"please, please, please! i-i'm gonna cum!" you stuttered out, feeling his balls hit against your ass while he continued to fuck your hole. your cunt began to convulse around his cock.

with another thrust, another rub on your clit and a gentle kiss on the side of your neck, you let out the most desperate and needy moan known to mankind as you began to cum around his cock.

gojo began to chase his own high, satisfied with the ring of white cream forming at the base of his cock, fucking you into over stimulation.

"f-fuck, gonna cum. god, i-i love you, y/n." he choked on his words, fingers clawing onto your hips as he gave you one final thrust before release thick wads of hot cum inside your hole.

gojo fell on top of your body with his arms supporting him a little to make sure he doesn't crush you with his weight, cock still lodged inside your wet cunt that was now filled with both his and your cum.

"i... fuck, i love you too, satoru." you whispered, swallowing thickly from how dry your throat was. you stroked his snowy white hair, the both of you breathing heavily as gojo continued to lazily fuck his cum into you.

"you know, i didn't expect you to be a virgin from how horny you are." gojo giggled, making you hum. he rested his head on your chest, playfully taking your nipple in his mouth as he sucked on it.

"well, i guess i got the real life experience now." you gave him a cheeky smile, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

"better than your little books?" his voice was a little muffled due to having a mouthful of your boobs in his mouth.

"mhm, i should write about it." you thought out loud, catching his attention.

"if you have writers block anytime else, just let me know and i'll help you. that's the least i could do for my dear girlfriend." gojo smirked, making you blush at the last word.

"oh? and since when have you declared that you're my boyfriend?" you joked, making him bite your nipple.

"since forever. you're mine now anyways." he pouted like a child, making you laugh.

"fine, so are you finally gonna let me stack donuts on top of it?" you said, making him look at you with a look of disbelief.

"maybe."

[luffysinterlude]

★ LATE NIGHT CONVERSATIONS. . .

summary: in which zoro convinces you to see yourself from his point of view.

warnings: named fem!reader/oc, reader has suicidal thoughts (not too explicit, yet not very subtle), cursing, zoro may be ooc, angst/comfort

word count: 2K+ // slightly edited

an (1): this fic started when i got drunk and wanted to read angst. i revised it so many times and i’m still somewhat unsatisfied (hence the rushed ending) but i really love this oc i created and hope i get to write about her more :3 been feeling a lil sad bc i turned 21 and i’m still somewhat stuck in my life and uuuugh. just need zoro so bad..anyway…I’ll probably do an oc introduction next :p

ZORO thinks you’re the prettiest person in existence. He wishes he could give you his eyes so you could see yourself from his point of view. He watches you as you sit next to Robin: a blanket wrapped around your body, your head leaning on her shoulder as you listen to the conversation she’s having with Franky.

Tonight, something’s different. You don’t have the usual gleam in your eye nor does your laugh echo throughout the Sunny. Instead, your eyes are red and swollen, and you’re quieter than usual — only speaking when you’re spoken to. Your eyes meet Zoro’s for a split second, and understanding flashes in his gaze as he realizes why you’ve been so distant.

You ignore the swordsman’s curious eye, trying to be more interested in the conversation Robin and Franky are having; something about poneglyphs, but you wouldn’t be too sure because your thoughts are louder than their voices, making it hard to focus.

Tonight, everything hits you at once: your past, the present, and the what-ifs. The future remains a distant concept, with its many possible outcomes holding you back.

You think these thoughts that cloud your brain are nothing but selfish. A burning desire of yours is to quietly slip away and let your soul be free from this body and place.

You love the Straw Hats, your captain, and your crewmates. You love the sea and exploring new islands. With every stop, you hope to learn something new to distract yourself from the small part of you that wishes you weren't alive.

But every now and then, it hits you. And you feel like you’re nothing but a waste of space.

Before you realize it, Zoro’s standing next to you, offering his hand. You know the blend of sympathy, disappointment, and sadness on his face. With a deep breath and a small smile to the rest of the crew, you accept it, allowing him to pull your body up and lead you down the corridor.

+x+

Roronoa Zoro, pirate hunter turned pirate, was someone you held close to your heart. He was your closest friend, your anchor in times of darkness, and your lover.

He took care of you, even in your absence; he told you that you look out for everyone else that you tend to forget to take care of yourself.

When the crew split up and you had decided to go to Whole Cake Island, Zoro made sure Franky had sent you off with two transponder snails so he could check in on you. He’s still unsure of what happened on the island of sweets, but after your reunion with the rest of the crew he’s noticed the light in your eye had become darker.

He leads you to his room, opening the door for you and placing his swords by the entrance. You take a seat on his bed, a change from your usual behavior of lying down. Your thoughts crowd your mind again as the atmosphere around you grows quieter.

You’re not doing enough. Luffy doesn’t need you, nor do the others; you believe you’re just extra weight they carry because you’re his sister.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You feel the mattress dip as Zoro occupies the space next to you, his body radiating warmth your way. He’s laying down, arms rested behind his head, eyes closed. You stare at the man next to you, taking in his form; despite the number of times he’s smiled in the face of death, scars and stitches scattering his body, you still think he’s the most handsome man on this earth.

“Just been…thinking,” you start. “About everything that’s happened up until now.”

Zoro hums to let you know that he’s listening, a cue for you to continue.

“Nobody on the crew knows this, not even Luffy, but I was there at Marineford.”

This makes Zoro’s eye shoot open, a look of surprise painting his face. As bad as it sounds, he isn’t too interested in learning about where the crew spent the last two years, he’s just glad they all made it back together alive. He knows that you spent time mastering your Haki with your childhood teacher, but that’s all you’ve let the crew know about.

“Grandpa snuck me in disguised as a marine — I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone if I was able to leave quietly. I wanted to see Ace one last time, and he granted me that because he owed me one for keeping an eye on Luffy when we were younger.

I was able to visit his holding cell, and the sight of him…it felt as if I was being punished. Ace was the one person who understood me and how I tend to feel, the one person I shared so much in common with. He was able to find bits and pieces of himself again thanks to the light that shines through Luffy, and when he left us I promised that I’d try and keep him safe despite the distance between us, and hopefully find myself through our crybaby brother as well.”

You’re smiling fondly at the distant memories of you and your brothers, ones that you wished were photographed so you could have physical proof of those events taking place; so even when you’re old and senile you’ll be able to remember them happening.

“Tell me more,” Zoro says. He eyes the spot next to him, and you position yourself to lay there. He allows you to remove his left arm from behind his head to use as a pillow. “Were you safe, at least?”

Of course not. You were infiltrating the World Government, and if you made a tiny mistake, you would’ve been right next to Ace on the execution platform.

“I was — you know I wouldn’t do anything impulsively, unlike some people.” You giggle, remembering the moment Luffy fell from the sky, in the middle of the battlefield. “I ended up being able to sneak away because of him. I found Trafalgar’s submarine and hopped on board and waited…and I can’t help but think that was my biggest mistake, leaving Luffy alone. It’s a heavy guilt that I’ve been carrying.”

Zoro ponders for a moment; it isn’t your weight to carry, he wants to say. Luffy went to Marineford on his own accord, and not every ending is a happy one. He’s also curious about how you were able to find the surgeon and his crew, but that’s something he’ll ask about another time.

“And when I felt Shanks’ presence nearby, I asked Law to take me to his ship — which he declined, of course — so I got off and swam there instead. The waters were surprisingly calm, so don’t panic, I’m sure Jinbe wouldn’t have let me get eaten up,” you confess to him, reassuring him that you were safe every step of the way.

You stare at the left side of his face, your arms wrapped around his body as if he was a teddy bear. The blanket you had previously wrapped around your body now covered parts of his, his arm cuddling you close as if you’d ever slip away.

“How’d it go with the redhead?” Zoro asks. His eyes are still closed but you know he’s interested in knowing; asking questions is somewhat his way of begging to know more. He isn’t as stoic as he thinks he is, at least not towards you.

“It was good seeing Shanks again. He was heading to Marineford to end the war, and allowed me to stay and hide with him until Luffy made the decision to reunite in two years. He’s actually the one who took me to my childhood teacher; it took about three weeks after burying Ace and Whitebeard to get there.”

Zoro’s curious about how you handled Ace’s burial, but again, that’s something he’ll ask about another time.

“They asked about us. It was different being the one to share experiences about life on the sea; but it was refreshing and fun…I told them all about the crazy stuff we went through, and they let me know about the reputation we’ve built for ourselves. It’s actually kind of cool how many people know of us, but also scary at the same time. It really opened my eyes though; it was probably the first time in a long time that I…” you trail off, repositioning your head to be more comfortable, the hand that lay on Zoro’s chest now tracing lines as you daze off. Sensing that he’s lost you, he opens his eye and nudges you lightly.

“I felt like I had a life purpose again. Gaining the knowledge that a lot of people had their eyes set on us as a team, it made me realize the responsibility I hold. The promises I made to both Ace and Sabo, the ones I made to you and the rest of us, and the promise I made to myself as a child — my ultimate dream: to live a long, fulfilled life.”

“Even though I felt great and motivated after that and even now, the thoughts still linger around. The what-ifs: what if I stayed and attempted to save Ace alongside Luffy? What if I got caught by the Marines? What if the five of you never found me in Loguetown?

It’s a never-ending battle, and I’m getting more tired of myself with every passing day. It’s the reason why even now I exhaust myself mentally and physically, just to escape my thoughts. I guess there must be something happening with the planets for me to experience these feelings right now,” your tone is light, almost playful, yet your words place a heavy weight on him.

You let out a sharp sigh, suddenly turning on your back and staring at the wooden ceiling. You release your Haki to see what the rest of the crew is up to, noticing that some of them have already gone to bed. The only other people awake at the moment are Luffy, Sanji, and Jinbe — sharing a late night snack and a hushed conversation.

“You’re stronger and more resilient than you think,” Zoro states. “As a matter of fact, you’re probably the strongest person I know, both physically and mentally.

You’ve faced nothing but obstacles your entire life, and it makes me wish I had known you when we were younger. You and Kuina would’ve been great friends.” The mention of your lover’s childhood friend makes you smile. He’s only ever confided in you about his upbringing, and you pray to the heavens, hoping that Kuina herself hears you ask for his protection. “I admire you so much.”

And it’s true: Zoro envies how strong you are. He wishes he had unlocked Haki at a young age. He wishes he was as smart as you. There are so many things Zoro admires about you, and he wishes he knew the words to voice it.

“I’m not great with words.” You giggle at his self-awareness but let the laughter die down as he rolls his eye playfully. “But you deserve to be here — alive — regardless of where you came from, what powers and knowledge you possess, and what happened when you were a child. I’ve watched you grow into the person you are today, and it’s been a privilege.

Sometimes, it feels as if I was a saint in my past life to experience this: the open ocean, the different people and places, and you. However you see yourself isn’t how anyone else views you. Chopper looks up to you as a guardian — and despite the small age difference, I’m sure our knucklehead captain does too. Nami, Robin, Usopp, and Franky see you as their sister. I’m sure I heard Jinbe speaking of you like a daughter, and as for the annoying waiter we call a cook, he practically worships the ground you walk on. The skeleton praised you constantly, so I’m not sure how you don’t see the admiration everyone has for you.

You’ve become one of my biggest inspirations. I’ll probably never be in the mood to admit this again, so make sure you’re listening.” He suddenly sits up and rests against the headboard, your movements copying his as he interlocks your hands with his.

He meets your gaze, and you feel like you fall in love with him all over again. He’s looking at you with pure adoration, as if he’s trying to engrave your face into his memory.

Even with tear stains running down your cheeks and puffy eyes, you’re still the prettiest person to exist. Everything about you is perfect, and a demon like me doesn’t even deserve to be in your presence, Zoro thinks.

“The time we spent apart, I took some time to think about our adventures as a crew. I’m not sure if I subconsciously did it because it was a strange feeling being away from you all, or if it was because Perona kept asking too many questions.

After explaining how the ten of us all became a crew, she pointed out that I mentioned you a lot. I didn’t think so at the time, but I guess it’s just something that feels natural to me. What I’m trying to say is…

“I love you. You know this already, but I know sometimes it feels nice to have a verbal reminder. I’m in love with you, and I know I’ll always be. And I’ll help you fight your battles, even when you ask me to give you space. I’ll do anything you want me to, just promise me you’ll let me be there for you. You — in such a short amount of time — have become my greatest weakness.

It hurts when you push yourself away from everyone else, especially me. I know you don’t want to feel like a burden, but you’ll never be one; to me, or the others. Especially to Luffy. Whether you decide to tell him you were there to see Ace, is up to you. I’m positive he won’t react the way you think he would. You’ve always taken on way more than what we ask of you, and applying more pressure to yourself isn’t going to make us look at you any differently. You’re appreciated for all that you do, and will always be.

The only thing I’m asking of you is to take the time and make sure you’re taking care of yourself. Physical battles already take a toll on all of us, and we can always help each other out, but the mental ones we face can only be taken on by ourselves. Even I find it hard to deal with it. But then I’m grounded by remembering the fact that I was put here on this Earth for a reason — everyone was.”

Your jaw is hung open at Zoro’s words; yes, he saves sweet talk for you and you only, but this was an entirely different and unexpected side of him.

You want to cry. You want to kiss him. You want to take all of his pain away and give it to the officials in the World Government. You want to cradle his face in your chest and kiss his cheeks and tell him sweet nothings; yet as you process his words, you sit there in silence.

I’m grounded by remembering the fact that I was put here on this Earth for a reason — everyone was.

Similar to the last words spoken to you by your beloved brother Ace, you feel tears slip out of your eyes and suddenly you’re trapping Zoro in your arms.

“Thank you, Zo.”

The whisper reaches him, and he relaxes comfortably in your embrace. He buries his head in the crook of your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your torso. Even though it took a lot of guts to be that vulnerable, his chest feels lighter. With a soft kiss pressed to the top of his head, you return the words back to him.

“I love you so much. Thank you for always being there for me. You’re truly one of my anchors in this life.”

+x+

You wake up the next morning alone in bed. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, except this time a note sits on Zoro’s nightstand.

Woke up to Nami banging on the door. Kind of surprised it didn’t wake you up either. Anyway, we’re docked now and Luffy dragged me out with him to explore. The stupid cook and Robin are still here on the ship, so I asked them to ring me when you wake up. If you decide to leave the ship, come find me. If not, then rest and I’ll come back to you later. Love you, Zoro.

You smile at the sloppy handwriting, your mind quickly flashing to last night’s conversation between the two of you. You sit and think about it and come to the conclusion that you no longer doubt yourself. You feel as light as a feather, hopping out of bed and changing into a new outfit for the day. You’re assuming your lover had taken it upon himself to change you, not remembering when you had put your sleeping clothes on.

You waltz into the kitchen, greeted with heart eyes and the smell of coffee.

“Good morning to you, Athena. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up, Sanji’s desperately wanting to go pick some things up. Are you feeling better now? Zoro said you were feeling under the weather this morning.” Robin’s gentle voice distracts you from worrying about the amount of blood spilling from Sanji’s nose, a soft smile on her face as you greet her back.

“Good morning! I feel much better now, like I can do anything.” You smile. Sanji’s serving you a plate of breakfast as you sit across from the archaeologist. You start to eat, trying to peek at the newspaper she’s holding in her hand. The headline makes you choke on your food.

“WHAT THE HELL? LUFFY’S AN EMPEROR NOW?!”

Your voice is loud enough that Sanji and Robin are sure the entire island could hear it. Before Sanji’s able to fill you in on what was discussed after you and Zoro went to bed, your shrieks were heard throughout the Sunny.

“WHAAAAAAT?! MY BOUNTY’S AT TEN DIGITS NOW?!”

“Well, you and Zoro missed a lot last night. We’re happy to know that you’re feeling better now though!” Robin says, a closed-eye smile sent your way.

You’re in a state of shock: reading the article that was released less than twenty four hours ago, and you hear Sanji’s tongue click.

“Maybe we should take Athena-swan to Chopper for medicine,” Eyes wide and jaw hung, you nod your head. “And probably look for the embarrassment you call your boyfriend.”

With that, you shove Sanji away from you, standing up quickly and taking hold of Robin’s hand. You grab your bag and walk off the ship with the two of them next to you, feeling thousands times better than last night.

Zoro, you say in your mind. Please don’t be lost. Eh — it’s been hours since they left. He’s definitely lost.

With a new sense of confidence and optimism, you hold your head high and continue your journey in making this a life worth living.

+x+

an (2): ahhhh yes!! athena (reader) is luffy’s sister…i have her while character outline already written. i kinda hate the ending but i also didn’t want to stay stuck on this lil story for too long…but i do want to write more abt our lovely athena and the life she’s willing to live <3

please do leave feedback! it helps me improve :) especially since i’m still learning & getting back into it!!

[onlycosmere]

Brandon Sanderson on the length of Wind and Truth

PumkinFunk:  I appreciate Brandon being self-aware about the fact that he will struggle immensely to keep the word counts down for this series.

KiwiKajitsu: If only he had a better editor

PumkinFunk:  I know this has become a common criticism since Rhythm of War after Moshe Feder retired, but I don't think it's true. One of his editors for his books is Devi Pillai, the head of Tor Publishing Group. The Secret Projects were edited in-house and generally were good. He has a lot of people giving him feedback, both in-house and outside.

jmcgit:  If Brandon wanted to work on revisions for an extra 6 months to refine and streamline the book, he could do it. This is a Brandon thing, not an editor thing. What was Brandon working on up until the last minute before he had to turn the book in? He was working on making the book bigger, squeezing in more content that he wanted to add. Brandon will tell anyone who asks that he likes to write, and dislikes revising.

When an author gets big enough, the publishers and editors lose their ability to rein in the author or make certain demands. Brandon will do what he wants, and if Tor doesn't like it, they can cancel his contract and Brandon can self-publish.

Brandon Sanderson: I realize it's difficult to see behind the veil of publishing, and much is opaque, but this isn't what I was doing during the last few months--I was cutting the book significantly. However, rough draft didn't include Interludes or Epigraphs, which is why it got longer after I cut it down. This draft lost over 60k words, but then I added in the interludes and epigraphs (along with a few key scenes I decided were needed.)

So, let's be clear about a few things. No editor has ever--in my life--cut my books down. It's not what they do. They largely haven't suggested it. Every editor, Moshe included, has always suggested things to change or add--they don't do much trimming. That's all my job, and always has been. Yes, there is a line edit, which does help trim--but I haven't stopped taking those suggestions, and usually go much, much further on a page-by-page case than they suggest.

I dislike revision, which is important for me to explain because I want people to understand that even for someone who loves their job, there are parts I don't like. But I DO it. I do A LOT of it. It's the part I have to force myself to do, but I am very good at it--and if you follow my stories about learning revision, you'll find that I very clearly explain that I didn't get published until I mastered the thing that was hardest for me. I consider my it, perhaps, my greatest strength as a writer--my ability to look at feed back and apply it to improve books.

If they get long, it's not because I've lost an editor. Moshe's strong suit was always diction, not trimming--and Gillian (who does that job now) is quite accomplished at both. She's Joe Abercrombie's editor.

I realize it's odd, because "to edit" means to trim, but an editor doesn't usually trim books--they offer suggestions for changes on the larger scope, and sometimes do a line edit pass to clarify.

Stormlight books are not big because I can't stop writing. You can pick any number of my shorter novels and see I'm quite capable of doing something at a normal book length. Stormlight books are big because that's the art I want to make--and they are not, and never have been, out of control. I am perfectly willing to accept that the story I want to tell has not appealed to some in the last installments! But don't blame my editors. This is an artistic choice of mine, and their job has never been to change the art. I get the same amount of editing now as I ever have--and I take largely the same amount of their feedback.

Note: don't take this as a direct condemnation of you or some of the things /u/KiwiKajitsu said above. It's more that I want to be very clear about my goals, and the process. My stance is one of explaining, not arguing against your opinions, as those are valid and perfectly reasonable ones to hold.

I realize that a long comment reply isn't the best way to prove I can be brief, but I sincerely think the trope of "He got big so he lost the ability to be edited" is not one that I fall into--I am, if anything, the most edited person at the industry, and see more criticism and feedback of my books prepublication than any other author. Editors and beta readers collectively wrote some 800k words of feedback for me over the last two years, which I incorporate. Not just the, "Add this" but also the "this sequence feels slow or unengaging." I am extremely passionate about listening to, and incorporating, editorial feedback.

It's fine to not like what I do. But don't blindly make the argument that I write it, kick it out the door, and don't pay attention to the revision process while ignoring editors.

jmcgit: Hey Brandon, I appreciate the insight! I regret that my post may have come off as if you carelessly "write and kick it out the door", as I know how hard you and your team have been working on the book over the past months and years, and how passionate you are about getting it right.

Brandon Sanderson: No problem and no offense taken! I just see a lot of confusion about these things.

I am edited far, far more now than when I was when I started and nobody cared. Though, admittedly, I think the most editorial scrutiny I ever got was on A Memory of Light a decade ago. I probably get less now, but I also have way more extensive beta reads.

It's just a complex process. And, you also ARE right in your initial post that I could go over it again and again, and some authors do. I'm middle of the road on the number of revisions I do, by my experience. Not as many as someone like Pat R. does. More than a lot of authors. I do not subscribe to the Heinline philosophy of only editing when required by contract that is very popular these days. (This philosophy believes that your initial artistic instinct will be right, and you shouldn't undermine it later on. I am not a fan, even if some people I respect follow this philosophy.)

Anyway, your initial post wasn't far off; I just wanted to offer some more context for this thread.

[ghost-1-y]

Nightmare

Incubus!Gojo x AFAB!Reader

Content Warnings: MDNI, dark content, dubcon, stalking, yandere themes, infidelity/cheating, manipulation, possessiveness, sexual content, penetrative sex, oral sex (f! receiving), aphrodisiac, blood sucking, using horns as handles, symptoms of sleep paralysis, feelings of insecurity (reader), mentions of voyeurism (gojo), dacryphilia, degradation, corruption k!nk, gojo feeds off of reader's life force, mentions of potential exhibitionism (reader’s husband might hear them going at it), breeding k!nk, mentions of impregnation, creamp!e, no aftercare, reader's husband is nanami-coded, please let me know if I missed anything!!

Summary: It’s been weeks since your husband had touched you in the way that you wished, and you’ve started to grow tired of his constant flirting with other women at work. Completely fed up with both him and the never-ending dry spell you’ve been going through, you retire to the guest room’s bed to fall asleep without your husband, unaware of a shadow that’s been lurking in your home each night, waiting for the right moment to prey on its new victim.

Word Count: ~3.6k

Divider Credit: @/benkeibear

A/N: Sorry this is an hour late!! I had a super busy week and didn't get to edit/revise at all until today, but I hope it's worth the wait!

Y/N’s POV

You were tired.

Not in the normal sense – you didn’t feel a need to sleep. On the contrary, you found it quite challenging to do so recently due to the never-ending thoughts of your unhappy marriage, as you wondered how exactly it reached this point in the first place. At first, your marriage was beautiful – you were in love, and everything in life was tinted in rose. Your husband treated you as his one and only, his everything, his soulmate.

When are you having kids?

You two look so cute together. 

I wish my marriage was as happy as yours!

Your friends and family would always compliment you and ask you for the latest details of what you and your husband were up to. You were soaring, so happy that you found someone to share your life with. 

But then, he started working overtime at his job, started taking on more shifts, and you’d go to sleep on an empty bed and wake up to his side being cold the next morning – nothing indicating that he was there other than the disheveled sheets that he didn’t bother to fix before heading out again. Your mornings were lonely, and your nights were quiet. You started making dinner for one, rather than wasting food on a meal that wouldn’t be eaten. You tried to be understanding of your husband’s absence, knowing that his job required a lot of him, so you never told him how much it bothered you, thinking it would only add more to his never-ending pile of worries.

It truly felt as though a ghost lived in your home, only ever seeing remnants of life from the half-empty coffee mug or the folded-up newspaper that was left discarded on the dining table. The fridge would be left ajar and the front door unlocked as though he was in such a rush to get to work that he couldn’t be bothered about simple things – relegating those tasks to you, his good little housewife.

Sometimes, whenever a door closed on its own, or you thought you saw something out of the corner of your eye, you’d jokingly call out to your husband in the emptiness of your house. Of course, you’d get no response, and you’d almost laugh at your antics if it weren’t for how your life was slowly turning gray – the rose tint slowly fading the longer you were alone.

However, one night, in your darkened bedroom, you heard a car drive up to your house. You slowly got out of bed, clinging to your sleep robes as you walked towards the window, and you saw your husband get out of the car. Warmth filled your veins as you gazed down at your husband for what seemed to be the first time in weeks, happy that you’d be able to welcome him back home. However, that warming comfort quickly dissipated as the driver also exited the car – a woman, presumably a coworker you hadn’t met – and walked over to him. As you peeked through the blinds, you saw your husband meet the woman halfway, the headlights of the car illuminating the two figures, and his hands sought her face as he kissed her.

Surprisingly, you didn’t feel your heart shatter as one might think – you had your suspicions already that he was seeing someone else, and this only confirmed your thoughts as you closed the blinds and left your shared bedroom, deciding to retire to the one meant for guests who stayed over.

Maybe that’s all I am at this point, you thought as the front door opened, only wishing to sink into the mattress and cover yourself in its sheets as you closed the guest room door behind you and removed your robe. The mattress was stiff and unused, and you stared up at the ceiling as you heard your husband’s heavy footsteps padding their way up to his room, as you became more and more of a stranger in your own home.

You tossed and turned as you walked the line between sleep and wakefulness, your thoughts racing just a bit too much to allow you to seek the comfort of dreams that you knew would never come true, or to notice the slightest creak coming from your bedroom door.

What seemed to be a hand ghosted over your hip, fingers dragging along your sides as you slowly became aware of the strange feeling grazing over your body. You squirmed, thinking it was some strange breeze that came in from the window – before you noticed the heavy weight that was pressing into your chest, rendering you nearly immobile.

“Such a waste to not take care of a pretty thing like you…” a voice drawled, and you opened your eyes – fearing that someone had trespassed into your home, only to find nothing out of the ordinary inside your little guest room. You sighed, thinking that you must’ve been hallucinating – sleep paralysis was a possible explanation, after all.

The voice, however, returned, chuckling in response to your eyes frantically searching for the source. “Oh, sweetie, your eyes can’t see me!” it exclaimed, as though it were obvious, “but I can see you, pretty, I’ve seen all of you.”

Gojo’s POV

You were sweet.

Like candy – if he were able to taste it, anyway. You had an aura about you that lit up any room you were in, one that he’d gaze upon from afar in the shadowy corners of your house, something he couldn’t touch, lest he burn from the light that was your smile. 

He loved watching you – seeing you get dressed (he loved the curves of your body), how you’d cook and clean and make everything look so pretty for a husband who didn’t appreciate it…

He especially loved watching you from one of the shadows of your bedroom as your husband fucked you – his cock throbbing as he watched you being used like the cute little cumdumpster you are, always wondering how tight your cunt would feel wrapped around his cock instead.

He would observe each and every single action because it was you who performed them.

And you looked delicious.

But he couldn’t feast upon you – not yet, at least. Your light was still too radiant, it shined upon everyone and everything and was nearly all-consuming.

So he left – just for a little while, of course. He’d be back for you, you just needed to give him some time.

He interrupted the dreams of one of your husband’s coworkers, filling her mind with lewd images and thoughts of railing your husband to the point where she just couldn’t bear it. So, eventually, she approached him at work – and he initially denied her advances, acting like the good husband he should be – but that just wouldn’t do for the plan Satoru had in mind. 

So he did the same with your husband, and provided him with dreams of fucking that same coworker, how wet and tight and good it would feel to have his filthy cock inside someone else’s pussy. Satoru knew it would hurt you, but it wasn’t completely his fault – you see, it was your husband’s choice to act on his desires, and his coworker’s choice to reciprocate despite knowing he was a married man.

And so your husband started coming home late, but not from work like you’d thought, no. He was arriving home after laying in the bed of another, engaging in an illicit affair that he excused as simply working overtime at the office. You initially believed your husband, but eventually, you developed your suspicions, and your light dulled – which pleased Satoru – because he could get closer to you. He would sometimes even try to alert you to his presence, but that never went according to plan – you’d always call out your husband’s name in response. You were loyal, and that annoyed him to no end because he already decided that you were his. 

He just had to be patient.

Until tonight – he had been watching you from the corner of your room. You couldn’t see him, of course, he was nothing more than a shadow to you. But that fated car had shown up, and as you peeked out the window, the last bits of your light finally blinked out like a dying star, and Satoru damn near rejoiced.

He soon followed you to the guest room, smirking to himself as he opened the door to see you tossing and turning, restless and alone – just how he wanted you.

Because you were his – to claim, to ruin, to feast upon.

“Such a waste to not take care of a pretty thing like you…”

Y/N’s POV

“Who are you?” you asked the darkness, eyes still darting about as you covered your top half with blankets as though that’d protect you from whoever– whatever this was.

“Hmm? Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me! Although I guess I can’t blame you – our bond isn’t quite strong enough for you to see the real me…” he considered, “you’ve called out to me many times before though, sweetie, even if it was by the wrong name – which was annoying, to say the least.” 

If you could see this…thing, you would’ve been able to discern the very obvious pout on its features. But, as its words sunk into you, a chill ran up your spine and every artery, vein, and capillary became doused in fear – realizing that this entire time you’d been joking to yourself about a ghost living in your home, it had been true. 

“My name is Satoru Gojo, sweets, so next time you call out – please use that name instead of the one owned by that disgraceful husband of yours,” the voice insisted, tracing its fingers along your side – a movement nearly invisible if it weren’t for the fabric that moved ever so slightly in response to his hand. 

“How– how do you know about my husband?” you asked, and he laughed.

“Oh, sweetie, you should realize that I know everything about you by now! I know how you take your coffee, how you perform chores around the house,” his voice dropped to a whisper, breathing directly into your ear, “how that husband of yours is unable to fuck you the way you want.”

You shuddered, unable to deny the slightest spark of arousal that nestled deep within your gut, but it did little to quell your fears of this…thing. You didn’t want to admit that he was right about your husband – not even to yourself – but the way he held that woman…

“Oh c’mon, relax. I can smell your fear, y’know – but I’m not gonna kill you!” Not yet. “I want to help.” The lies dripped like honey off of his tongue, sickly sweet as you drank them in. “Close your eyes for me, will ya? I promise I won’t bite,” he smirked.

Hesitantly, you obeyed and closed your eyes, and you felt the softest, sinful touch of his lips against yours – it was dizzying how they caressed you before he slowly entered his tongue into your mouth, causing a burning feeling to slip down your throat – as sharp as alcohol and as saccharine as sugar. Your mind relaxed, with the blood in your veins heating up before that warmth sunk down into your stomach and then lower. Your fear had been eradicated by lust, and as you finally opened your eyes, the being in front of you was one you’d never seen before – a tall, white-haired male, with eyes that deceivingly matched the heavens, who was adorned with wings and horns colored in a dark charcoal. 

“Now you see me, don’t ya, pretty?” he smirked, “I’m gonna take such good care of you – you’ll let me, won’t ya?”

You nodded without hesitation, only desiring more of the euphoric feeling that he seemed so keen on providing you with. 

“Need your words, baby, or else I can’t do anything,” he growled softly, and you squirmed underneath his weight as you forced your mouth open.

“Please,” you begged.

“Please what?”

“Please– please fuck me!”

You felt a sudden rush of cold as the bedsheets flew off of your body, leaving you stark naked on the mattress below you. Still, the cold was quickly replaced by the scorching hot yet featherlight touches of his hands tracing along your body – moving along your sides and then up towards your breasts, which he fondled before kissing you again with those syrupy lips, allowing more of that warmth to spread down your throat and into your skin. The weight on your chest was unrelenting yet pleasant as his tongue slipped into your mouth once again.

His hands toyed with your nipples, pinching and rolling them in between his fingers, pulling a gasp from you as he parted from your mouth in favor of sucking on your neck, licking a long stripe up toward your jaw before biting down just enough to draw blood with his fangs – he needed to feed off your life force somehow – you moaned as a heat spread from where he bit you all throughout your neck and shoulder, a pleasurable feeling which allowed him to drink in more of you before moving on to your tits, sinking his teeth into your nipples as well as he drinks freely from you, lapping up the blood with the flat of his tongue. You cradled his head as he sucked at your breast, encouraging him to keep going as a breathy moan escaped you – because it never felt this good before when your husband would do it. 

“Mmh, yeah? You like it when I play with your tits like this, baby?” he asked, voice muffled against your soft skin. You whined, eyes closed as you arched your back, the euphoric flow of pleasure coursing through you. He could tell you were slowly becoming obsessed with the way he was treating you – he just needed to wait a little bit longer.

“Fuck, so good– never…never felt this good before,” you moaned, and Satoru smirked as he sucked just a little bit more on your tits before traveling down towards your needy cunt.

“That so? Your husband doesn’t know how to fuck you, does he?”

You shook your head, unable to voice an answer as his breath fanned across your sopping pussy. 

“It’s okay, pretty, don’t worry – I’m here now.” 

He delved a single finger into your glistening cunt, gathering up your slick and bringing it up to his mouth to taste you. He groaned as he gathered more of it, forcing his fingers into your mouth, and your tongue immediately lapped at them like a puppy with its owner.

“You taste so good, pretty. So fuckin’ wet for me – such a good slut,” he smirked. He removed his fingers from your mouth before going back down and licking a fat stripe up your cunt, causing your legs to jolt at the touch. He snickered, “bet your husband didn’t know how to please you, bet he never even went down on you, the sick bastard.” You whined in response, causing him to chuckle. 

“Thought so.”

He buried his face into your messy cunt, his nose nudging against your swollen clit as he delved his tongue inside of your hole, licking up all of your juices into his awaiting mouth. You moaned, bucking your hips up into his face before he pinned them down, eating you out like you’re his favorite meal and he’s a man starved. It’s messy as he groaned into your heat, working his jaw as he savored your sweetness. He moved his mouth slightly up to your clit, pursing his lips around it and sucking hard as he probed two fingers into your needy hole, curling them inside of your sloppy heat. Your hands clasped around his horns and you arched your back, trying to push him deeper between your legs, obsessed with the way his fingers and tongue felt while pleasing you.

He pulled moan after moan out of your pretty little mouth, and he laughed to himself as his plan was going oh so well – to make you drunk on the pleasure he gave you until you became fully addicted and obsessed with him, becoming his little cock slut that he can breed and fill with his cum whenever he wanted.

Eventually, the tension building up in your lower abdomen snapped, and a sense of euphoria rushed through you, causing your legs to shake and clench around his head. He groaned, drinking up all of the juices that flowed out of you. Satoru looked up at you as he fed upon your cunt, and grinned as he watched your soul slowly but surely fade through his eyes. 

“I was right to choose you,” he groaned before slurping up the rest of your juices, overstimulating you as your grip on his horns tightened, pleading with him to let up on his ministrations. 

“Feeding me so well, pretty.” He nipped at your inner thigh once before sitting up and grabbing his cock, giving it a few strokes before lining it up with your sopping hole. He rubbed the bulbous head along your pussy, “tell me, how much do you want this cock, baby? You wanna get fucked by a demon like me?” 

You nodded, and if you were any less delirious you might have questioned what he meant by ‘demon’, but you were too far gone to care, simply nodding and begging “please” over and over again.

He slowly pushed his cock into you, grunting with how tight you were wrapping around him. “Shit, pretty–” he sighed, sinking into you until his balls were flush against your ass. He grabbed your legs and pulled them up so your ankles reached over his shoulders before slowly pulling out and plunging back in. His grip tightened on the flesh of your thighs as he started moving faster, his balls slapping against your ass with the force of his thrusts. Your mouth parted and tears fell down your cheeks, only being able to take what he gave you as his dick filled you up to the brim while pounding into your sopping cunt.

“You cryin’, baby?” he chuckled, and you could only whine in response.

“Good.”

He soon flipped you over and got you on all fours, slamming his cock back into you. You wailed as he kept forcing his fat cock into your greedy little cunt – the intensity only building upon itself as you felt your orgasm approaching once more. 

“‘M close…’m close,” you babbled, encouraging him to fuck you harder. Satoru reached around to rub your clit, and you gasped as you fell apart once more, gushing around his cock. Your legs trembled and you fell forward, unable to hold up your weight any longer as pleasure coursed through your veins. Satoru took this opportunity to trap you under him, with his torso flush against your back as he continued fucking into your tight pussy, not caring for how overstimulated you were becoming. 

“Fuck pretty, you love this dick, huh? Cumming all over me like that,” he grinned, his dick throbbing as he continued pounding into you. You nodded in response, but that wasn’t enough for him, so he gripped your chin and forced you to look up at him. “Uh-uh, tell me how much you love this cock, baby.” 

“Uh– fuck! Love– love it! Hah– need…need more–!” you babbled, tears flowing down your cheeks. He placed his hand around your mouth, and your moans became muffled as he dragged his cock inside your messy cunt.

“Shh, pretty, don’t want your husband to hear you getting fucked, right?” he grinned devilishly, “though, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already heard us – he’s probably stroking his dick to your sweet sounds, the cuck.”

You whined, oddly enjoying the idea that your shitty husband might be able to hear you – you took pride in the fact that he might know that you’re getting fucked better than he ever did with you. You started fucking yourself back onto Satoru’s cock, and he grinned widely – satisfied with how he’s turned you into his little cock slut. 

“Shit, baby– ‘m not gonna last much longer,” he admitted, his thrusts progressively getting sloppier and sloppier as he rutted his cock into you.

“Hah– you want me to cum inside you, baby? Want to get filled with my cum? I’ll fucking get you pregnant, breed you with my seed and turn you into my cumslut – you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fuck– say it baby, say you want me to cum inside you” he groaned, his dick pulsing inside of you as he reached his end, and you nodded your head.

“Please, please Sa- Satoru–! Cum inside me! Wan’ to be your cumslut! Please!” you begged.

“Shit– ‘m gonna cum, pretty, fuck–” He pushed deep inside you, hips flush against yours as he released his hot seed into your womb, thick ropes of his cum filling you up until it started leaking out of your abused cunt. As he pulled out of you, causing you to whine at the feeling of emptiness that it created within you.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll be back for you. I’ll visit you every night if you wish, just so you can get your fill of my cock,” and so I can get my fill of your delicious soul, he thought, grinning to himself.

Suddenly, the weight lifted off of your chest, and once you opened your eyes – he was gone, leaving you a mess with his cum leaking onto the bed sheets. You sat up and hobbled your way over to the shower to clean yourself off, trusting in his promise to come back each night.

You’d be waiting for him, not realizing that was his plan all along.

Taglist: @o-oreo , @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @perfect-again, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @kyojurismo, @crazycatlddy, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh, @223princess (if your name is crossed out, it means tumblr didn't allow me to tag you - apologies for the inconvenience)

I hope you enjoyed!!

[videovamptramp]

the great war pt 1

natasha romanoff x fem reader

warnings: if you count flirting as cheating then nats a cheater 🤡, angst, breakups, idk why i can never write fluffy shit…, kinda mean nat?, natasha’s a bad girlfriend but she means well.

(part 2 will be uploaded on saturday or sunday morning depending on where u live! i already have it written, just need to revise and edit 😊)

//

natasha knows treating you the way she has isn’t enough. she knows she’s doing almost everything wrong in the relationship. she doesn’t understand intimacy too well (if not at all), she barely grasps the concept of monogamy (it doesn’t help that she flirts with almost every woman she meets), and she doesn’t understand you at all. sometimes, you feel like she doesn’t even try. above all of that, natasha has never even told you that she loves you. it’s been two and a half years, and she’s never said it. some days, natasha racks her brain trying to figure out why you haven’t left yet.

natasha loves you. she knows this, though she doesn’t know if you do. she wonders if you know just how much she loves you; how she often craves those gentle touches of yours that only you can give her. you read her so well, she never even has to ask, you just know. whenever she’s had a bad day or a tough mission, you somehow know. whenever she wakes up craving pancakes, there you are making pancakes without her even saying anything about it. it’s funny, wanda maximoff is the mind reader, but you seem to be the only one who can truly read natasha romanoff.

though, tonight— tonight you aren’t too sure about what natasha’s doing, or what she wants. you’re currently at the bar with kate and yelena, while watching natasha flirt with maria hill right in front of your face. you’ve had to sit through not one, but two sexy dances. watching your girlfriend let her work partner grind all over her isn’t actually how you imagined the night going. the truth was you didn’t even want to come out tonight, but you did for her. she asked you to come out with her, and now you’re sitting at the bar watching her practically undress maria with her eyes.

you chug the rest of what’s in your drink, and turn your attention back to yelena and kate. “i think i’m gonna head home. i’m not feeling too well.” you half lie, and kate’s face falls. “what?! but you’ve only been here for an hour! come on, stay! don’t let natasha ruin your night.” kate tries, and yelena smirks. “you know, you and i can always dance and make her jealous.” yelena offers, and you giggle sadly. “thanks lena, but that’s not what i do... truthfully, i don’t even care anymore. if she wants to flirt or hookup with hill tonight, that’s fine.” you sound exhausted, and this causes both of your friends expressions to morph into looks of concern. “i’m tired...” you trail off, and you stop yourself to keep your voice from breaking.

... i’m tired of trying to be what she wants. i’m tired of not being enough.

you clear your throat, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a twenty dollar bill for your now finished drinks. “at least let me drive you home!” kate tries, and you shake your head. “no, you stay. have fun! i’ll get a cab.” you assure her, and she looks like she wants to protest but you quickly gather your things and stand up, adjusting your dress. “if nat notices i’m gone, which i doubt she will, tell her i went home.” you request, and yelena only nods as you walk away. you turn your head and catch a glimpse of maria whispering something in natasha’s ear. whatever it is it makes natasha grin in a way you haven’t been able to in months.

your heart feels like it’s being squeezed in your chest, but you manage to pry your eyes off of them, the image fully engraved into your mind as you walk out of the club.

“should we be worried? about her? like i know natasha’s your sister and all, but she’s cheating right in front of our eyes.” kate points out as she sips her fruity drink. yelena looks over at natasha who’s still talking to maria, seemingly unaware that you had even left. yelena shakes her head, “natasha? she’s always like this. she pushes and pushes until she pushes the person she loves to snap or leave. you can call it what you want, but i call it self sabotage.” yelena blurts out her retort, and kate shakes her head. “but y/n loves her, yel. i’m really concerned, because she’s willing to let natasha cheat on her. who does that?” kate asks and yelena sighs, reaching for another shot.

“someone who’s tired. she’s probably... how do you say... mentally gone already? yeah, that’s it. she probably doesn’t care anymore about what natasha does.” yelena says, and kate’s face changes as she notices natasha somehow is now behind yelena, and can hear everything the blonde is saying. “i mean, would you? she’s given maria hill more attention in the last hour and a half than she has given y/n all month.” yelena adds, “i wouldn’t be surprised if natasha gets home one day and she’s gone.” yelana continues and kate shakes her head, flashing yelena a look of panic.

“what? do i have something on my face?” yelena asks, and natasha clears her throat from behind the blonde. yelena turns around, and is seemingly unfazed by her sisters sudden presence. “well if it isn’t the woman of the hour! how is your night fling going, сестра (sister)?” yelena asks with a drunk smile on her face, causing natasha to scoff. “fling? and do i wanna know what you were just talking about? or why?” natasha asks, and yelena chortles sardonically. “yes, your fling. your shield partner who you’ve been dry humping all night in front of your girlfriend.” yelena answers and kate sips her drink awkwardly, trying to avoid natasha’s harsh gaze.

“you know what yelena? what do you know about my girlfriend?” natasha asks bitterly, knowing too well about yelena’s not so little crush on you. yelena rolls her eyes, “apparently more than you. y/n has been gone for almost half an hour now, and you haven’t even noticed. i may not have experience in relationships, but i know you’re not supposed to hurt her all the time.” yelena states, and natasha’s fists ball up. “i hurt her all the time?? is that what she tells you?” natasha asks and yelena huffs. “obviously not, natalia! you know she practically worships the ground you walk on! you know what i think? i think when you know someone loves you, you never think twice about them again.” yelena spits harshly, and natasha’s hard expression falters at the words.

“people like you truly don’t know what they have until it’s gone. and when she realizes she deserves better than catching a cab on her own in the middle of november— better than watching you give someone else attention while you’ve barely spared her a single glance since you’ve been back from your mission— she’ll be fine. she’ll find better. but you won’t find someone who loves you that much again, and you know it.” yelena says through gritted teeth, and natasha is staring into yelena’s eyes as if she could see right into her soul.

kate was positive someone was going to get murdered tonight, and it was definitely going to be yelena. until natasha shifts from one foot to the other, and sighs, “where’d she go?” natasha demands, and yelena chuckles, “oh now you care?” the blonde asks, and kate puts her hand on yelena’s shoulder. “she went back home.” kate cuts in, and natasha only nods. she avoids yelena’s gaze before talking again, “i do love her.” natasha starts, and yelena rolls her eyes, turning her head to the side in order to gaze away from natasha.

“you’re both the only two people i love unconditionally in this world.” natasha adds and yelena seems to soften only a bit at the words. “you have a funny way of showing it, сестра (sister).” yelena murmurs, and natasha sighs as she looks at kate, silently apologizing like a scorned puppy. “she’ll forgive you. she always does.” kate tries to reassure the redhead but this only makes her feel even more guilty. natasha nods, but says nothing else. “you better gravel.” yelena blurts out, snickering as natasha walks away.

the entire way back to your guys shared apartment, natasha thinks about you. the way she’s treated you. yelena’s words ring through her head, and she can’t help but grimace she thinks about them.

“you know what i think? i think when you know someone loves you, you never think twice about them again.”

that couldn’t be further from the truth. yet, yelena’s words still hurt. what if you think the same way as the blonde?

“i wouldn’t be surprised if natasha gets home one day and she’s gone.”

yelena’s words hold heavy weight and meaning, and they manage to make natasha’s blood run cold. she doesn’t want to think about you leaving, but she’d be lying if she said she never does. every day she thinks about how much better you deserve, and how wonderful you are. she thinks about all the little things you do for her, like purchasing her favorite brand of hot cocoa from the grocery store. the way you always leave sticky notes on the mirror, telling her you love her. she notices every little thing you do for her. from the way you organize her drawers, to the way you cook dinner based on the foods she prefers.

when she gets home there’s a chilling, deafening silence in the apartment. there wasn’t a single sound other than the sirens and noises coming from the busy streets of new york. “detka?” natasha calls out, as she shuts the door behind her. when she walks in, she sees your sweater from tonight carelessly thrown on the back of the couch. the redhead walks further into your shared apartment, and as she approaches her bedroom, her heart sinks.

you’re not here.

“y/n?” natasha asks, her voice louder this time. when she’s met by more silence, a wave of panic washes over her. “no— shit, fuck—“ natasha slurs while she curses as she fumbles with the purse in her hands, her slightly shaky hands searching for her phone. something in her chest tightens as she unlocks her phone, the screensaver she has of you eating ice cream would in any other case make her smile. right now it makes the uncomfortable pit in her stomach grow as she starts to sober up while pressing on your contact information.

the phone rings twice before natasha can hear your phone ringing somewhere in the kitchen. natasha rushes over in the direction of the sound, and when she sees your phone on the counter, her heart drops right into her stomach. that little condescending voice in her brain is screaming ‘she left. of course she left you, who wouldn’t leave you after all the shit you’ve pulled?’ along with things like ‘yelena was right.’ ‘you never deserved her anyways.’ ‘you’re just a whore, natalia.’

her thoughts are suddenly interrupted by you casually entering the apartment wearing your pink velvet short pajama set. your hair is in unruly curls, and you nearly stop in your tracks at the sight of your girlfriend standing in the middle of the apartment with an inscrutable expression on her face. “you’re home?” you ask uncertainly, yet your voice and face don’t indicate any signs of anger. in fact, you sort of look confused. it’s hard for natasha to swallow as her hands tremble and she lets out a breath of slight relief as she realizes you’re back. “what’s wrong?” you question after not getting an answer from your gaping girlfriend.

“i— i got home and you weren’t here... where— where’d you go?” natasha asks, swallowing past the lump in her throat. her fists are opening and closing, and she’s standing robotically across the room. you step closer to her subconsciously, “mrs. rodriguez knocked; mr. whiskers got loose in the building and i was helping her look for him. we found him on top of the vending machine on level three.” you reveal, explaining your short absence to the ex-assassin. “why are you home so early?” you ask nonchalantly, as you walk past natasha, towards the counter where your phone is.

“you left early. why’d you leave?” natasha asks, ignoring your question, and you notice the way her voice breaks every so slightly. you furrow your brows, “i— i was tired, and i didn’t want to ruin your night... i told yelena and kate to let you know.” you retort, and natasha folds her arms. “you should have told me.” she states, and you raise a brow. “and interrupt whatever the hell was going on between you and maria? no thanks, i was already humiliated enough.” you murmur, and natasha tenses up.

“there’s nothing going on between me and agent hill.” she says seriously, and you roll your eyes. “does she know that? because she was blushing at everything you were saying tonight.” you respond smartly, and natasha scoffs, her crossed arms tightening over her chest. “i didn’t do anything tonight that i don’t usually do when i go out.” she points out, and you sigh, pushing your hair behind your ears. you look at natasha, and she can see on your face how exhausted you are. “yeah, i know.” you say under your breath, “that’s the problem.” you add as you go to leave and natasha moves with you, blocking your way to the bedroom.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” she asks a bit demandingly. you shake your head, “it doesn’t mean a thing to you, i know that.” you respond, your tone lacking it’s usual softness. natasha pauses, and you sigh. “look, i’m really tired, okay? i can’t do this whole fight just to make up thing tonight. i’m going to bed.” you declare, and natasha blinks a few times as you manage to make your way past her and towards the bedroom.

“you’re tired... tired of me?” natasha asks, her voice different than it usually is. this causes you to stop and turn back to look at her. “i’d never get tired of you. ever.” you affirm certainly, but your answer doesn’t seem to satisfy natasha. your shoulders slouch a bit, “i’m tired of the way you make me feel, nat.” you admit, your tone low, and your eyes on the floor. “i’m tired of laying awake at night while you’re out flirting and doing who knows what with people i have to face day to day, and they all wonder the same thing i do. i know it.” your voice cracks as you swallow thickly in order to keep your voice clear. “and what’s that? what are they all wondering?” she asks in a manner you’ve never heard before. your eyes meet hers, and for the first time she can see just how hurt you are.

“if i’m even enough for you. or why you’re even with me in the first place.” you whisper, looking away as your eyes begin to water. the way your bottom lip begins to quiver, and the way your eyes are begging for an answer makes natasha’s heart shatter. “detka...” natasha trails off, her voice faint and quiet. you shake your head, trying to be strong as your teary orbs meet hers. “you know you don’t have to pretend to love me, or settle for me... right? i— i’m a big girl, natasha, i can handle the truth. i think... i think i deserve the truth.” your voice trembles, but you keep your gaze locked on natasha despite the tears in your eyes and you’re trying to blink them away rapidly, causing each tear to fall one by one; streaming down your cheeks to your jaw.

the titian-haired woman stares at you for a long moment, her eyes now glossy and full of anguish. the flicker of emotions in those forest-green orbs does nothing to ease your fears and anxieties that are creeping up on you. tonight’s the night, you think, the night she finally admits you’re not enough for her. you never will be. “pretending to love you? is that what you think i’m doing?” natasha inquires in pure disbelief. “you think i don’t really love you? you think i settled for you??” natasha asks, sounding more upset than you’ve ever heard her. you don’t know what comes over you, but the dam that’s been poorly put together, finally bursts.

“not just me, natasha… everyone thinks that. and tonight— god, tonight you were just showing me how you really feel and i need to stop ignoring it.” you breathe out, the end of your palms digging into your eyelids, as you try your absolute hardest to ignore the urgent need to cry. natasha shakes her head, “that’s not true! i love you more than i love anything! you know that!” natasha raises her voice, and you stare at her with a pained expression. “i don’t. not anymore, and especially not after everything you’ve done.” you respond in a monotone.

natasha stares at you, trying to figure out your next move, but for the first time since she’s met you, she can’t. “maybe... maybe you should just go. go back to the club... back to maria. i’m sure she’ll be more than happy to let you stay at her place... just till i can find a place of my own—“ you begin to ramble, and natasha’s eyes widen. “no!” she shouts, causing you to nearly flinch. “no, please— please don’t. please... don’t make me go.” natasha begs, her voice cracking and you can’t help but flash her a heartbroken expression.

“what else can i do, natasha? i’m not going to compete with her. i can’t... not when she’s obviously the better choice for you.” you hug your arms around yourself, turning away from natasha in order to hide the insecurity written all over your face. “the better choice?” natasha asks unrecognizably, and you turn to face her; the look on your face shatters her. “please don’t make me say it.” you beg, you’re heartbroken enough. “you’re going to have to, because i don’t understand. on what planet is maria hill a better choice than you?” natasha asks, and your fingernails dig into your upper arms.

“just... just leave me alone for the rest of the night. please.” you plead, and she takes a step closer to you, causing you to instinctively take a few steps back. “not tonight.” you add in a strained tone, natasha swears the floor might swallow her whole, and she desperately wants you to hold her. but the way you looked at her— you look absolutely disappointed in her. it makes her realize yelena had more of a point than she anticipated. you turn away, facing your bedroom, and you’re ready for this night to end already. you’re exhausted and all you wanted was to watch movies and cuddle tonight. instead you got this. again.

“i’m sorry.” natasha croaks out, and you close your eyes tightly, clenching your jaw. “me too.” you manage to voice out as you walk into the room, shutting the door behind you. the sound of the lock makes natasha’s heart fall further into that pit that only seems to be growing.

natasha’s legs feel like jelly as she shuffles to the bedroom door. her nose practically touches the cold wood, “i’m sorry.” natasha repeats through the door, “i’ve been a shitty girlfriend. i haven’t treated you the way you deserve, and i know that. i don’t mean to be this way...” her tone is broken and frail, and you stare at the door with tears falling out of your eyes. “the truth is, i don’t know why i do a lot of things. i was trained for everything...” natasha trails off, her voice getting caught somewhere in her windpipe. she swallows past the lump in her throat, “... but i wasn’t trained to keep a good thing. i’ve never had a good thing like this, and when you say you’re not enough for me, that’s just not true. i’m not enough for you.” natasha doesn’t realize she’s crying until she can taste the bitter salt on her lips, falling off her jaw and down to her collarbone.

her forehead is touching the door, and she lets out a ragged breath, squeezing her eyes shut. you don’t say anything, and god, she‘s terrified that she fucked this up beyond repair. then, she hears the door click, and she stands up straight, sniffling as you open the door. you peak through, your eyes full of tears, and they only multiply when you see her red and puffy eyes. she’s staring at you like a lost puppy and you reach for her, immediately seeking her comfort. natasha wraps her muscular arms around the back of your neck, pulling you flush against her. you both say nothing as she holds you in her arms, crying simultaneously. natasha’s arms are wrapped around your neck and she breathes you in. she never wants to let you go.

a few minutes of silence tick by, “i can’t do this anymore, nat…” you whisper, and the words make her heart fall deeper into that blackhole. there’s tears falling out of your eyes and you sniffle as you pull away from the taller woman. “i c-can’t keep doing this. i’m… i’m gonna stay at lizzie’s for awhile.” your voice cracks, and natasha’s eyes widen, she shakes her head quickly, “no— detka please. i can fix this. please, just give me a chance to fix it.” she begs, and you look down, the salty tears streaming down your cheeks. “no nat. i— i need time to think… i don’t want to feel this way anymore.” you express, your hand on your chest as if she’d literally taken a knife and stabbed you through the heart. natasha feels an enormous amount of guilt and regret as she realizes just how badly her actions have affected you.

“baby please… i’m sorry. i don’t want you to leave.” her voice cracks, and her mascara is running. she looks heartbroken, but so do you. it took her this long to realize you’ve been feeling this way, and it was all because of her foolish actions. “you should’ve thought about that before… you really hurt me, nat.” you try to sound strong, but the way you’re crying makes you feel weak. you turn around and make your way into your bedroom, ready to gather a bag of your things then call your sister to come and get you. natasha’s stuck in place as she watches you move around the bedroom, packing a duffel bag. her hearts pounding in her ears, she can’t move or say anything as you talk on the phone with your sister and she agrees to pick you up.

her body doesn’t feel like her own as you throw on a pair of jeans and your own hoodie; it becomes too real as you put your shoes on. she feels like a robot, standing in the middle of her bedroom. you give her one last look before throwing your bag over your shoulder and leaving; you don’t even realize you take natasha’s heart with you when you leave. after the door slams, the silence engulfs her and she can physically feel her heart break in two. what the hell did she do?

[traegorn]

So when I do finish this book I am writing (speaking it into existence bc adhd is a BITCH) Like what's your experience with publishing? How much does it usually cost? What kinda income does one get? I don't really care about making money but it would be super neat to make something since I cannot work. How do taxes work on that also? Google is confusing me

So far i have an idea and half a first chapter with thrilling notes such as " add a cat" and "insert spell here"

So I self publish, so that's the world I know. If you want to find a traditional publisher, you'll need to query agents and do a bunch of other stuff. My only advice for traditional publishing is that when going that route, money should always flow towards the author. If they're asking you to pay for something, they aren't a traditional publisher and there's a good chance it's a grift.

So let's talk about what I do know.

(And this turned out to be long as hell, so I'm putting in a "keep reading")

When you self publish, you are effectively acting as the publisher. If you want someone to do edits? You'll have to hire an editor. If you want someone to do the book layouts? You'll have to hire someone to do it if you can't do it yourself. You need a cover? You get the idea.

Now I don't pay an editor, so I can't really give you a price range on how much they cost off the top of my head. I do know they can get expensive though.

I also do all my own interiors, but I have a graphic design background and have been doing print layouts for decades. If you want to hire someone to do the interiors, that can run you $100-500, so I recommend just... learning to do it yourself.

Frankly, it's not terribly hard. I do mine in Apple Pages on my Mac for my paperbacks and Amazon has a free program for formatting eBooks (which you can export both as the Kindle format OR the more universal ePub format). With your print version, you just want to make sure you get your margins right, along with using a standard font like Times New Roman.

Like, literally just pick up a book and study the layout. Look at the front matter (copyright page, title page, etc) of a handful of books and mimic what you find there. I don't know why so many self published authors get that bit wrong. It's a book. Format it like a book.

Now the cover... this is where you'll probably end up spending something. I do my own covers for my comics, but hire out for my novels because I can't do the kind of covers expected of my genre. And you do want to match your genre, because you want a potential reader to know what they're getting into. I've seen so many self published books with terrible covers and it drives me nuts.

Cover design can run you anywhere from $35-$400 depending on who you choose to contract, and this is where I recommend you spend your money. On the cheap end you have companies like GetCovers. Now they primarily do covers made from edited stock photos, and I've honestly been pretty satisfied with their work... but you have to hold their hand and be very clear with what you want.

GetCovers is a part of Mibl Group, and it's pretty much all of their most inexperienced employees. The whole point of it is to get them the experience to work on bigger projects down the road. They have cheaper packages, but for their best work you'll probably only spend like $35-$45. If you're working in a genre that mainly uses stock images, that's who you want.

I often end up retouching the covers they do though, because I'm impatient. Like there are edits to The Witch and the Rose and Shadowcasting I made after they handed me the completed files. You're going to have to be very specific with what you want. The first version of the Bloody Damn Rite cover they did... was awful. But they did the revisions I asked for, and the version they delivered in the end was great.

Now if you want, like, original art or just more complicated, custom stuff? You're looking at at least $250 on the cheap end, but sometimes you end up in the ballpark of $700-$1000. Like on their regular site (just to use the same company as GetCovers for comparison), the Mibl group charges like $300 for a more complicated stock photo based cover (that requires more complicated edits) and at least $700 for covers that require digital painting, 3d modeling, etc.

There are a wide range of prices depending on what you're asking for. But, y'know, you're paying that once for a commercial piece of graphic design.

I'm cheap and can do some of the work myself, so I go for the $35 cover. I also figure out what fonts they used for the covers, so I can go buy my own commercial license for them and replicate a similar logo on my title page. You don't need to do that bit, I'm just finicky.

Actually publishing the book is easy. You'll want to use a self publishing platform like Kindle Direct Publishing or IngramSpark (or, if you're like me, both). I sell KDP books on Amazon, but all other distribution is through IngramSpark. You make more money on Amazon by using KDP, but even though they offer distribution, no book store will ever order through them. So I turn that option off, and then I take the same book and I make it available through IngramSpark.

On amazon I make a little more than $2 on a $3 ebook, and about $4.00 on a $12.99 paperback. When a bookstore buys an IngramSpark version, I make about $2.50 on a $14.99 book (if you wondered by my books cost more when not buying it through Amazon... that's why). Now if you buy yourself author copies, they cost way less -- in the end I think I can get them for like $5 a book? So when I sell them in person, my margins are much higher.

But, y'know, you have to actually sell them.

Because that's the hard part. When self publishing, you only have you to market it. I don't know how many books I'd be selling if I didn't have a pre-existing audience -- and even then it's not a huge amount. I've sold about 200 books this year? Which isn't nothing, and I appreciate every single person who's purchased one of my titles, but it's obviously not enough to quit my day job for, y'know?

That said, I've known people who do sell enough to make a steady living. So it's possible for sure.

But it's not going to happen overnight, and it won't be easy.

As for taxes, you'll need a 1099 and do stuff with the Schedule C. I always forget exactly what until I'm actually doing them, but it's not super hard, just annoying.

[ivysangel]

I am dead serious when I say that you guys need to start giving writers feedback more often. I have a fic here that has a total of 4015 notes and only 218 aren't likes. So, let me break this down for you a bit.

Of 4015 notes, 186 are reblogs and 32 are comments. Two reblogs, as well as comments, are mine so I'll subtract them from the equation making the total number of notes 4011 (184 rbs, 30 comments, 3,797 likes).

Of the 184 reblogs, 16 are private, meaning they're absolutely useless in spreading and sharing the piece. The remaining 168 consists of 136 reblogs falling under "other reblogs" while only 32 fall under "comments and tags." And of the 32 under "comments and tags," only 9 have something besides a copy of the tags that I included in my initial post.

The 184 reblogs make up 4.6% of the total notes, the reblogs under "comments and tags" make up 0.8% of the total notes, and the reblogs under "comments and tags" with anything besides tags copied from the initial post make up 0.2% of the total notes.

At one point, I reblogged the post, asking if anyone wanted a part two. That's when I got my first comments. The first 6 comments were in response to that, and of the 30 total comments (excluding my own), only two were unrelated to a part two. Which means I can guarantee that I wouldn't have had that many comments had I not posed the question of a sequel fic.

And if I add those 2 comments to the 9 reblogs, I get 0.3% of the total notes on my post that make up the portion of notes that aren't likes, empty reblogs, or comments about a part two. And that's me being generous because two of the reblogs actually do mention a part two.

I also posted a poll asking what people wanted in part two, and that poll got 238 votes. That is 54 people more who voted for what they wanted in a part two that didn't reblog or help push part one.

Don't get me wrong, I love seeing people in my notifs liking my posts, but sometimes it's just not enough. It is utterly exhausting waking up to multiple hundreds of notifications and not seeing a single person compliment your work. You guys will like stuff, follow, and then head straight to the inbox asking for more. I know it's been said a hundred times before, but we are not machines; we do this for free in our spare time.

The post in question was written when I was tired out of my mind, and I ended up not liking it, so I let it sit in my drafts. I briefly mentioned it on my blog and was met with one of my followers showing interest in the idea, which prompted me to revise, edit, and post it. It was a gift, as are all fics and pieces of art by writers and artists on this site, and yet it was treated like a commodity.

When people say it's unmotivating they're not kidding. When I had 100+ asks in my inbox, all of them being requests, I felt like I had the worst case of writers block known to man. I would open my inbox and immediately close it because the idea of posting anything knowing the only response would be more requests, was awful.

When people leave little messages in the tags, full-blown commentary, or kind messages in my inbox referencing posts, I feel more motivated than ever. Those responses are what drives me to write more. But when I, and other writers, are being treated like we're here to cook up whatever fantasisies you have in mind, I can't help but side-eye a little.

We wouldn't write if we didn't enjoy it, but the moment it feels like a job, it becomes that much less enjoyable, and then everybody loses. Just send a kind message to your favorite writers every once in a while. I promise it'll make their day.

I would also like to say that as I've written this, I've seen more people like that post. So, there's that.

[calico-cheriies]

WASTED SUMMERS |Manjiro Sano x Reader Fanfic|

{Chapter two}

{Masterlist}

{WASTED SUMMERS Masterlist}

"Confess I loved you, just thinking of you... I know I've loved you from the start..."

—————————————————

You already regretted being acquainted with the gang member, who you'd just found was the leader of one of the most powerful gangs! How could you have guessed that the insufferable airhead was the gang leader for crying out loud?!

Your face heating up in embarrassment when someone had confronted you about your relationship with him. Of course, there was many things to take from this; the first one being that your classmates were nosy, and the second being that the short childish boy was the leader of one of the most feared gangs. You couldn't believe you let the delinquent walk you home, and even worse- you confided personal things to him!

Though you had to admit that it was the most fun and relaxing time you've had in a long time- you really needed other people to talk to if that's how you felt about him- or rather around him.

You shook away the thoughts as you walked towards one of the classrooms, sliding open the door and greeting some of your fellow peers. You would often stay after school to participate in the student council meetings, ever since you were voted as the student president and confirmed valedictorian, you had made it a responsibility to address some changes and revisions of rules.

You had been anticipating this thing since the summer before this year- so you had really been on top of everything. "(Y/N)! Thank you for stopping by, we already made a rough draft," the salutatorian bowed his head before handing you some papers.

You scanned the papers and nodded, "These are fine... I will review and edit them before officially publishing them with the news club," you sent a smile to the boy, who visibly blushed but went unnoticed by you. Thus it begun your stay there for an hour and a half, but there was something that you couldn't help but feel a familiar warm feeling blossom in you. You had to admit that being around others that were like you was comforting.

Your salutatorian, whom was named Riku, had always competed with you since you were children, so you had a fun time sending teasing jabs to him and getting to know any new people that were new this year. That was before the sliding door swung open to reveal the last person you wanted to see.

Mikey.

You ignored the boy who casually walked in with his friend behind him, everyone in the room went quiet and even tensed up, Riku even slightly scooted away from you.

Harsh.

"Mikey, this room is specifically for the student council," you spoke up just as Mikey was about to speak. Intense (E/c) eyes looking up with a stern glare, it wasn't really aggressive but it was definitely a warning that it wasn't a good time. Many watched as Mikey leaned in close to your face, he clearly didn't care and it seemed like what you said didn't make it to his brain. "No need to be rude to your best friend, (Y/N)-Chan," he grinned, making sure to loudly announce the nickname he had given you.

Most kid's tensed up, it was considered rude to call someone on the student council such nicknames, especially from someone that had a bad reputation like Mikey. They were expecting to see you yell or even back down, but you did neither.

You had rolled your eyes and stood up, bowing to your classmates as an apology. "I'm sorry for his rudeness, I'll be right back," a light hue of pink on your cheeks, you didn't like the glances the students gave each other after Mikey's nickname for you came out and you grabbed Mikey by the collar and dragged him out, "Draken, you too." You simply stated as the two walked out, at least they didn't really fight you on it.

You closed the door, "You guys can't come in here and do what you want! You're scaring my peers away and you're making me look bad!" You crossed your arms, eyes glaring up at the two boys. Draken shrugged, "Sorry," he didn't even sound sincere!

You sighed and while shaking your head you asked the question, "Whatever, what did you need anyways?" you were confused as to why they wanted to see you, Mikey was quiet as he stared at you. It didn't seem like they would go out of their way for someone like you. It had been a few days since you last saw them, and you weren't even friends with them.

At least- that's what you assumed.

The three of them stood there in silence, so you kept tapping your foot impatiently before Mikey said anything, it was strange... he was looking down with a weird expression... did he feel ill or something? You didn't like his piercing gaze on you and it began to make you squirm under his intense stare. This was the first time you felt kind of afraid of his gaze, he sure could stare anyone to death...

You supposed you could see why people were afraid of him...

"Mikey... are you alright?" You were obviously concerned until Draken eventually shoved him aside, "Mikey wanted to invite you out with us, Takemichi and his girl were going to come with us and some other friends..." Draken revealed and that made you silent.

Suddenly you threw your head back a little bit and let out a quiet laugh, your lips curved into a smile as you shook your head. "That's thoughtful of you guys... I didn't think I was scary to approach," you had now understood- well to Mikey it was misunderstood but it didn't matter. "I appreciate the offer, but I have to stay, unfortunately," you bowed your head apologetically, it was kind of disappointing that you couldn't go but it was still your responsibility to take care of student problems and study. Plus- you weren't even sure if you were the right person to ask. You obviously weren't as laid back as Hina was and you didn't think you would be looked at as a fun person- but the gesture was enough of make your heart flutter.

"(Y/N)-Chan... you're so boring," of course that came from Mikey...

"Okay... thanks, Sano," a sigh escaped your lips, (e/c) eyes slowly traveling down so you wouldn't have to see his smug smile. Your fingers were messing with the hem of your uniform's sleeve. "I just have a lot of things to do... but maybe next time," you sent them a half smile, but then Riku peeked his head out of the classroom.

He seemed to slightly glare at Mikey, before turning to you with a smile, "(Y/N)... we just finished since it's getting late, do you want to walk home together?" he had already grabbed your bag and you hummed in response and turned your back to Mikey, not seeing his smile drop. "Huh?... oh sure-" you outstretched your hand, fingers grazing the strap of your messenger bag until Mikey beat you to it and grabbed it for you.

"(Y/N)-Chan... let's go home!" Mikey declared as Draken stared down the salutatorian, he was also a scary starer..."Whatever Mikey says, goes," he was intimidating the poor boy! You were stunned as Mikey dragged you by the hand towards the exit from Draken and the boy.

You wrinkled your face in annoyance which stopped you from  walking causing the blonde to glance back, "Hm? Did you forget something?" he asked, clearly oblivious to what you were feeling. You pointed to the end of the hall where they just came from, "Mikey! You can't just scare someone like that... plus, I thought you were going out!" The words sputtered out of your mouth, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. You did make sure to note that you owed your classmate an apology... and maybe more to make up for the intrusion.

"(Y/N)-Chan... that boy is no good!" Mikey huffed out, continuing to pull you forward. "Plus... I wanna walk you home!" he childishly retorted, causing you to shake your head in annoyance again. "Sano... you just have to ask," you mumbled, already to exhausted to argue, not even sure why Mikey wanted to be around you so much. It's not like he had a life-changing conversation with you anyway... but a thought then popped into your head.

...He's going to be a pest to you for sure, he could always be following you around or always barging in during your free time to sit and talk to you. You enjoyed his company for now but there was one thing that was stopping you-

His delinquent lifestyle.

The walk home was a bit different than the last one, the last one had a much more relaxed and peaceful vibe to it. This one felt more... vulnerable and somewhat personal, you saw that Mikey had some kind of expression on his face, and you subconsciously gripped the strap of your messenger back tightly before deciding to ask the looming question. "Mikey..." you hadn't realized how your voice came out soft- almost like a whisper and you were afraid that he didn't hear it. You were prepared to feel embarrassed until the blonde turned his head slightly in your direction. "Hm?" His hum made your stomach feel nervous, and you weren't sure what it was.

"What are you thinking about?" You watched his face for any change, it seemed that he was good at hiding his emotions because he kept the same neutral smile plastered on his face.

It was getting dark while you waited for his response, the sun was setting and it painted this light orange hue over his face. You thought that the light made him seem more vulnerable, he didn't have a scowl or a glare like most delinquents did- he had a more childlike and sweet aura that just drew you more into him.

"Heh, I didn't take you for the kind to be nosy," his response was teasing, and it made you just let out a small snort, you weren't acting out like you had done so earlier or many times before, you had even accepted the teasing response because you felt compelled to show that you were actually worried- or rather curious as to what the delinquent was thinking in.

"I was thinking about something coming up..." was all he ended up saying, and it prompted you to already start thinking of what the boy could mean. Was it a birthday? No- it had to be something that was clearly meaningful to him. The next thing that came to mind was the fact that he was the leader of a gang, could be something related to that?

"Are you going to fight someone?" The words slipped out, but you really couldn't help but ask, your face becoming slightly flushed at the personal question. You begun to panicking now as he stopped in the middle of the side walk which prompted you to stopped next ton him but you couldn't really read his expression. "Ah- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" you really were a stuttering mess, the confident aura slowly deteriorating as the tension became awkward, at least to you.

"(Y/n)-chan... you're so smart," he threw his head back in laughter, clearly enjoying seeing the uptight girl get flustered. "Glad that you came to that conclusion..." you muttered under your breath, not wanting to ruin the smile he had on his lips, it was a nice sight to see according to you- at least that's what you thought. You just ended up elbowing him gently, not wanting to push an answer out of him. "Just... be careful, it's my job as the top student of our class to look out for my peers," you grunted out, trying to find some reason to not worry over him or flatter him.

You both stood there for a few more minutes, the sounds of the cars driving by and the rustling of leaves was the only noise between the two. You hadn't realized you had been staring down at your shoes until Mikey flicked you on the forehead, causing your figure to flinch and cry out instinctively, "Hey!" Your hands flew up to rub the spot where he flicked you. Your eyes snapping up to meet his much darker ones. "You're too sweet, let's get you home nerd," his smile was pulled into his usual lazy one, causing a sigh from you and you continued the walk home.

"Thanks... for walking me home instead, Sano," you stood stopped in front of your house, now turning to face him. "It feels nicer to see you don't go around beating guys up, it feels safe," a snicker left you, enjoying the way his eyes lit up for a bit. "You just like having me around," he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his Toman jacket, his face turning to look at the details of your humble house. "Whatever, just get home safe you dork," you ended up gently shoving him. Now red face at how his childish response got you riled up. "Bye Mikey," you stepped back to signal him to leave with a wave.

Mikey had turned around to leave, his boots clicking against the concrete before he heard his name being shouted out. He had swung around thinking something had happened in the short amount of time. He couldn't imagine to his surprise that it was the (H/c) girl rushing at him, your phone in hand.

{Chapter three}

—————————————————-

[faeriekit]

Final Chapter is up 💚: The Basement

"It's a school night. It's dark outside. It's cold. Green— fog?— has invaded the whole house, and now he has to get his parents to tackle whatever that problem is. ...The only problem is, Danny woke up alone in his bedroom, and he can't seem to find them.

Like. Anyone. Anywhere."

💚👻💚👻💚

Check out the final chapter here, or check out @minnowmarsh's art here!

Want to read the whole fic from the beginning? Start here!

Happy Ecto-Implosion, everyone! 👻💚 I had a great time during the event, and it's let me focus on a lot of great art— including the extra piece Minnow ended up making for the fic! I couldn't be more grateful!! Overall, the timeline felt almost too long for me— so that's something to know about my limits moving forward— but it gave me more time to edit than I would usually bother with, so it ended up giving me and my partner a lot of time to work and revise as we went. It was so fun to work with a stranger in a partner project for something more official for the first time😊💚💚

I wanted to make a spooky haunted house narrative about Fentonworks and what his home means to Danny, specifically, so if you wanted to know more about how I ended up with this spooky story over here, I have a couple notes about the fic below, (which I also abbreviated on ao3):

I made this post about how Danny's brush with the portal ended Danny's pre-accident life in a way that was never going to be recovered from in many ways, and it ended up getting me thinking about Fentonworks, specifically, as Danny's grave site. Not the portal-- the Fenton household, where Danny had been raised, but now also had to contend with the constant possibility of being attacked, feeling unsafe, and having no one to reach out to about how he felt. Imagine growing up in a loving, warm home and then having the security system suddenly be wired to mess you up at a random moment's notice?? That's got to be alarming, if not mildly traumatizing! The people you would look to to help you can't help you! They're not an option anymore! The home you were so familiar with is suddenly scary and aware of you in a way it never was before!

...And although Danny ("Danny") couldn't remember being dead, I tried to throw nods in there to post-show things— like his ice core leading to a constant sense of being cold, his ghost sense activating at the sight of Danny-in-the-mirror, the constant green film over the world, etc. The busted electronics/timelessness was purposeless meant to feel achronological and dream-like, but had an added benefit to fitting a very popular ghost story mold: that ghosts make tech glitch out when they get close, haha.

And, of course, Death was always in the corner, waiting for him. He waits in the walls of Fentonworks still.

What is Danny— not Phantom, but Danny's— ghost waiting for? Who is he waiting for? His mom and family, probably; isn't that what every kid wants?

This was suuuuuper fun, and was in no way planned in any tangible way up until I saw Minnowmarsh's spooky bathroom in the server, haha. Who needs a super-powered ghost fighting story when you can think of the tragedy of man's mortal state?! 😄💚💚❕❕

Catch you on the flip side! 💚

[pinkmirth]

𝒮ℋ𝒪𝒲𝒯ℐℳℰ!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝓇ℴ𝒸𝓀 '𝓃 𝓇ℴ𝓁𝓁!

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ༉‧₊˚. eren’s got mere minutes to make it to the stage, but he’ll need a taste of you before he goes.

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ༉‧₊˚. ( 3.1k words of . . . ) rockstar!eren jaeger x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern au, established relationship, subtle themes of coercion, quickie, pwp, eren has tattoos, reader wears a mini-skirt & crop top, mentions of cunnilingus and squirting, fingering, titty-sucking, handjob, semi-public (in the hallway), wall sex, eren has a tongue piercing + genital piercing, unprotected/no condoms, use of petnames (baby, princess), explicit language, minors shoo!

𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇 . . . (let it be known that this is an edited and revised repost of my earlier released fic!) — i was inspired by this artwork, all credits go to @lyco_aot on twitter. rockstar rennie has been PLAGUING my mind!

Eren knows better than this.

He should be in room-thirty to test the sound systems for the concert, or squeezing in one last practice session with his bandmates. But what’s the need for such preparations when he could have his hand up your skirt?

“Why’d you bring me here?” The stale atmosphere of the secluded hallway is permeated by your whisper. Eren insisted that it was something ‘important’, but your mind’s preoccupied with the upcoming show. Before you can question him further, he takes hold of your waist and guides you backwards until your back meets the wall, and your leg bumps a nearby guitar case in the process. Eren’s touch is hasty– he’s in a rush. 

“Let’s fuck.” Direct as ever, Eren boldly initiates. He seems to have forgotten that his performance is just around the corner. You plant your hands on his chest, feeling warmth radiate onto your palms. Despite your growing appetite for him, you know that giving in would only encourage his reckless behavior. 

“Now?” You let out an airy, incredulous laugh. Surely he couldn't be serious, not when he only had a handful of time left to make it to the stage.

“Right here, right fuckin’ now.” Eren firmly decides. The conviction in his voice tells you how much he needs this; needs you. He keeps your body close, emphasizing his arousal by pressing the outline of his erection to your pelvis. The rough denim of his pants chafe against your tiny fabric skirt. He toys with your thighs in his large hands, squeezing at doughy flesh and poking his fingers through the holes of your ripped black stockings. You whine over the ticklish brush of his fingertips.

Eren swipes his hair back to rest behind his ear, a continual habit of his. Long, fluid tresses spill down his broad shoulders, and you can't resist brushing a few dark strands out of his face. His teal eyes are filled with swirling passion as he gazes at you, undeniably lovestruck. To break away from his intense stare, you mention the opening act that’s soon to start. He could definitely use a reminder.

“The concert, ‘Ren.”

“I know.” Your metalhead boyfriend pulls an unconcerned pout. He's never been one for taking responsibility. In his defense, Eren’s confident that he's fully prepared; having practiced his guitar solo tirelessly. His makeup’s finished up too, ink-black eyeliner applied to his waterline in flawless strokes.

He certainly looks show-ready; his grungy appearance is unmistakably ‘Eren-like’. He’s got on his favorite platform boots, the buckled ones that cause a dull echo with every step he takes, along with adding a few spare inches to his already tall stature. Spiked bracelets adorn his wrists, clinking as he rests his hands on the small of your back to tug you close. A loose fitting tank top drapes over his body, revealing the expanse of his warm olive skin. The most striking aspect of his appearance is impossible to ignore— through the tattered jeans he wears, you catch a glimpse of his boner, straining at the dark denim.

Evidently, he’s ready as can be. All that’s left is to get in a short-and-sweet fuck before hitting the stage. He might even use the flimsy excuse that it’ll help him shake off some nerves. 

You seem unwilling to take such a risk, especially after how things turned out the last time his libido got the best of him. A few weeks back, Eren failed to notice his cue to take the stage; he was far too occupied with swirling his shiny tongue piercing around your clit. Once he finally arrived, the mussed state of his chocolate-brown hair was enough to let his bandmates know that he’d ‘taken you backstage’... You doubt that they’ll allow you and Eren to live it down. 

“You remember what happened the other time,” You mention, dreading the thought of being at fault for another delay. He lifts a thick brow, lips turning upwards into a look of mischief. “Yeah, I remember. You came all over my tongue. I even had to take off my shirt and—”

“Ugh, Eren!” You smack his chest, cheeks going hot with flush. All the while, his prankish laughter ensues. How could you forget? You squirted all over him. The shirtless look only added to his heavy-metal charm, so the mishap worked out for the better. That still won’t hinder him from teasing you endlessly. 

“You upset with me?” Eren stifles a chuckle. Upon seeing your eyes roll, he chooses to take it easy on you. “M’sorry, baby... It was hot, though.” He murmurs, squeezing your ass unashamedly. His large hands knead and grope in just the way you like. “I’ll be quick this time around, yeah?” You take his promise with the slightest grain of salt. 

Seeking to mend your bruised ego and win you over, he presses fluttery kisses to your neck. It doesn’t take long for him to leave your jugular and gravitate towards your lips. It begins with warm pecks and lightly mingled breaths of air, until his head tips to the right, assertively prodding out his tongue. The silver ball in his mouth coolly grazes your bottom lip as he suckles on it. 

You raise a knee to his erection, gently adding pressure. His body jolts at the friction. Eren instinctively grinds his hips, “Fuck, you can’t let me go out there like this,” he groans into your agape mouth. You swallow his sounds, eagerly returning haphazard kisses. “Lemme fuck you good. Please, baby?” He lowly whines against your lips. 

“… Don’t take too long.” you sigh out a huffy response, as if you haven’t been convinced ever since he gave your butt a thorough grab. It was just satisfying to hear him plead for you. 

He perks up to reveal a dangerous grin, eyes glinting with mischief. “I won't.” And with that, Eren’s flipping up your small skirt. Nimble fingers trace over your panties, feeling at the dampness he caused. Abruptly, your fingers tighten around his shoulders. He pauses at the sudden hitch of your breath.

“What is it? You okay?” to his relief, you meekly nod your head. “Yeah, but we’re in the hallway.” you mention, breathless. He merely shrugs in reply. The tips of his fingers are stationed at the lacy band of your underwear, hooked and ready to pull. 

“So?” 

“Anyone could walk in on us,” You clarify. Again, he gives a careless shoulder shrug, seeing no need for concern. You feel your patience slipping away. “Do you want your drummer to catch us doing it? Or worse, your manager?” 

To that, Eren zealously laughs. “I brought us here for a reason. It’s empty,” his assuring tone provides you with a sense of comfort. “Just trust me, alright?” His fingers ghost over your nub, until he’s rubbing you through your panties. Eren watches the worry melt right off of your pretty face, lips going agape. You end up making more noise than intended when a moan escapes you.

“So loud,” he tauntingly clicks his teeth, “You don’t give a fuck anymore, do you?” Eren chuckles through his nose. He tugs the barrier of cloth aside, feeling at your puckering hole and gathering your sticky essence with the pad of his finger. He sends you a wicked grin before delving in, making light scissoring movements by spreading his lithe digits apart. He knows that time isn’t on his side, but Eren simply can’t imagine skipping out on prep. You need the stretch, even if it’s just for the briefest minute, in order to accommodate him later. 

Years of strumming and plucking guitar strings have made him proficient at using his fingers, much to your benefit. The pace builds, with Eren rapidly entering and exiting. The veins in his tattooed forearm protrude as he moves with purpose. He struggles against the clench you’ve sucked him into, gritting his teeth and muttering curses about your tightness. You writhe against the wall, freeing out uneven puffs of air and repetitive calls of his name. Suggestively wet squelches accompany your shaky voice. 

“Ohmygod— Eren!” you release a jagged cry. In an instant he’s slipping out, leaving you void and aching for him. Eren lolls out his tongue, bringing his soaked digits to his lips and licking them clean of your essence. You catch onto the slight gleam of his piercing while he laps at the pads of his fingers. “Wish I could eat your sweet pussy, baby,” he mumbles, peering at you through low-lidded eyes. “But there ain’t enough time.” 

Eren transfixes his gaze on your boobs. He’s captivated by the rhythmic heaving, watching your chest rise and fall like a tide. Your cropped shirt comes with a dipping v-neck, leaving room for your cleavage to spill past the shallow neckline. There’s red text on the top, ‘PARADIS DEVILS’ displayed in brutal font. Seeing you in his merchandise makes his dick throb.

He fondles your clothed breasts in his sizable hands, scrunching your top above your chest and expertly unclasping your bra. He dips down to level with your chest as soon as the undergarment hits the ground, latching his mouth onto your left nipple. It perks and hardens underneath the chill metal of his piercing. You're lathered in his spit as he makes a mess out of you.

“I fuckin’ love you,” Eren slurs, gazing up at you from between your tits with the sparkliest turquoise eyes. Saliva coats his plump lips. You hum at his ministrations, running a hand through his dark hair. “I love you too, baby, but don’t spend all our time on my boobs.” you giggle, gently thumbing his bottom lip.

“Mm… fine,” he mindlessly hums. With one last kiss to the valley of your breasts, Eren reluctantly breaks away and begins to search through the pocket of his black Balmain jeans. He pushes past bobby pins, crumpled pieces of paper from his lyric notepad, a low-charged AirPod case and some guitar picks, until eventually removing a thin hairband.

Defined muscle of his inked biceps ripple as Eren swipes his lengthy hair back and messily bunches it together, holding the hair-tie between his teeth. Your eyes stay trained on the flexure of his tatted arms. “I wanna be able to see you.” His explanation comes out muffled. Hair falls in stray pieces over his forehead, and you can't help but adore the careless bun he threw it all into.

With his brown tresses out of view, Eren’s features have become sharper— enhanced, even. You admire the structured angle of his jaw, the straight slope of his nose, and the subtle cupid's bow of his pink lips. 

Eren hurriedly reaches for his pants, studded belt jangling as he undoes it. The dark jeans drop to his ankles, pooling over his bulky shoes. He brings his boxers down with the denim, too. Eight lengthy inches spring free, erect and throbbing in a way that only you can relieve him of. Near the slit of his reddened cockhead lies a stainless-steel bar— the Prince Albert piercing that Eren impulsively got done a couple months back. It adds more stimulation than you could imagine. 

He pulls up his graphic tank top and holds it between his teeth, allowing the tip to bob against his lean abdomen. Your eyes can’t seem to break away from the trance of his pulsing cock. Reaching forward, your dainty hand closes around him. Eren hisses at your touch, shuddering over the lazy twirl of your hand as you stroke him. Your thumb goes over the precum-smeared head. 

“Fuck, babe,” his mouth drops. “Jus’ hop on my cock already.” You free him from your salacious grasp to hook one leg around his hip, using the other foot to manage balancing your weight on your heel. Your knee-high platform boots produce a low squeak as the soles rub against the ground. Eren warmly pats your sides, prompting you to climb onto him.

“Hold onto me,” he says. You launch yourself up with a little jump, allowing him to do the rest. His strong arms encircle your thighs, hauling you up and supporting your weight underneath his wide palms. You lock your legs around his hips, emitting a faint whine when his dick brushes past your damp folds.

“M’gonna be fast about it,” is Eren’s low disclaimer. You deserve to know that once he starts, he won’t be letting up. His tip catches your engorged nub in the process of him lining up with your fluttering entrance. “You can handle that, right, princess?” You give an eager nod, dazedly looking at him through wispy curled lashes. Your hands are stationed at his shoulders, your grip secure as he keeps you pinned to the wall with his body weight. 

Then comes the sudden ping of his phone, chiming from the pocket of his jeans that lay rumpled at his feet. Without even a glance, he recognizes it as a notifier for the performance beginning shortly. “Goddamn.” Eren detests being rushed like nothing else. Nevertheless, he has to make due with the timeframe. The show starts in ten measly minutes, but he’ll manage to satisfy the both of you in five, give-or-take.

“We’re on the clock, ‘Ren. Hurry up ‘n fuck me.” you release a sigh. “Yeah?” Eren hardly speaks, just barely, tongue prodding at his inner cheek. He sees your intention; you simply mean to spur him on since there's no time to waste. The quiet answer he gives is domineering— his firm glare contains a look of raw desire. At long last, he’ll have his way with you.

One fluid motion is all it takes for Eren to drive himself into your sopping core. He’s been inside for no less than a millisecond, but he’s surely about to lose his mind in this pussy— you’re somehow tighter than before, wetter than ever, and squeezing the fuck out of his long, meaty cock. 

“Mm, fuck!” You gasp out through tremulous breaths. The vicious way he plunges in and draws out wrings a moan straight from your throat. You feel him twitching intensely from within you, just as the sensation of your contracting walls make his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Given his size, it doesn’t take long for him to reach deep and stir you up from the inside out. His piercing immediately grazes your sweet spot, wracking a mewl from your plush lips. Before you can remotely adapt to him, Eren’s pulling out and slamming back in again, reaching the hilt with every periodic snap of his hips. Your body jolts in his arms. The thick stretch is fleeting and doesn't have a chance to settle in.

“Ah— ‘Ren!” He drinks in your cries, gracing you with the sloppiest of open-mouthed kisses. He rocks you back and forth with pure strength, bouncing you on his dick. The sharp resound of clapping skin penetrates the air— but not as deep as he’s penetrating you.  He ruts into you manically, the speed unrelenting. Your manicured nails pierce the tan skin of his shoulders. “I got you, baby,” Eren grunts, voice strained. “I got you.”

He’s entranced by your being, wholly absorbed in how good you make him feel. Eren conveys his affection by maintaining impassioned eye contact, which he never breaks even when pounding into you. His key pendant dangles between your sweat-sheen bodies, swinging with every thrust. 

Eren’s tempo picks up. Urgently, he fucks you against the ceramic wall. “I’ve— shit, been waitin’ to do this all day,” he admits through breathy whimpers, the silver ball in his mouth gleaming when he speaks. Despite his best efforts, Eren found himself constantly distracted during microphone testing and instrument rehearsals, as thoughts of you consumed his mind. The day progressed, and his yearning for you only ever grew stronger, until he was unable to resist. He witnesses your beauty and can’t help the urge to bask in it— to bask in you.

“I could fuck you for hours,” Eren groans, punctuating his words with harsh upward thrusts. Your tits bounce against his chest as he delivers forceful, calculated strokes. 

Your climax nears. It’s undeniable, considering how you clamp down on his girth like nothing else matters. “I—I’m so close!” you hiccup, choking on your words. It’s like you can feel the dick in your throat. You’re going crazy, and world-renowned rockstar Eren Matthew Jaeger is to blame. If he continues to whisk your guts around like this, you’ll wind up with an empty brain and a full womb— and Eren’s determined to make that happen before the opening act.

“Gonna come, baby?” he coos, flashing you a crude smile. Your reply consists of a fractured whine, with a high-pitched 'mm-hm!' being the only discernible utterance. He prompts your brewing orgasm by drilling away at your cunt. “Then fuckin’ do it.” His guttural command impels you to snap. When you throw your head back and spasm in his arms, Eren knows he’s done it; made you cum all over his dick in no less than four minutes. 

He’s soon to follow. Eren leans his forehead onto yours, panting out calls of your name against your lips. The deepness of his moans reverberate and bounce around your ears– you can hear his desperation to finish. He buries his face into the crook of your neck when he ultimately comes, cock jumping as he uses your snug pussy to empty his balls. You're filled with him to the very brim, warm seed trickling past your cunt in pearly white globs. 

Your frantic heartbeat begins to calm as the high gradually wears off. You unclasp Eren from your iron grip, and he guides you back down to your feet. He chuckles over the slight shake in your legs. “Careful,” He embraces you tightly, providing a stable anchor and keeping you from stumbling against the wall for support. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his slim waist to give a weary hug.

“I finished in time. Told you not to worry,” he mutters, chin resting atop your head. As always, his restive hands find their way to the round of your ass.

“If you didn't, I woulda’ made you go out there with your pants down.” you scoff at him. Eren’s chest vibrates with unbelieving laughter. “Sure you would, princess.” He pulls his jeans back into place and fastens the belt. As for you, he helps to flatten out your bunched-up skirt. From underneath soaked panties, you keep loads of his arousal stored inside of your spent pussy. He’s truly blessed to have such a pretty little cumdump. 

“I’ll take care of you properly after the show,” Eren faintly whispers, low-toned words fluttering onto the shell of your ear. His assured promise makes you wet with anticipation. He grabs his cherry red guitar from the sticker-covered case and slings it over his shoulder, exchanging a pillowy-soft kiss with you before parting ways.

Eren knows so much fucking better than this— sneaking in a fast-fuck before a gig. Lust clouds his better judgment. 

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #37] Faking It

warnings: pleased be seated for THE JANITORS CLOSET hehe, and iconic chapter in the bd universe. seokjin! pregnancy scares! tittie worship, thigh riding, semi-public, a lil self-pleasure, multiple orgasms, kissing <33, cum in panties??, idk, one of my fave bd smut scenes and they don't even shag! there's a lot of plot in there. all the fave characters!! and the biggest villains!!

a/n: i figured out the wrong headers!! this header was actually the og 36 header and the og 37 header is what I used for 36 lol

also also also i knew i said there would be more updates tonight buuuut I finished write #60 today so I'm editing that instead hehe. there's a direct reference to something said in this chapter in #60!

wc: 18k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

In the quiet bustle of Jeongguk's favourite downtown cafe, Yoongi frowns.

"Are you even listening to me, Gguk?"

On the table sits a half-drunk coffee, the bitter taste a little too much for Jeongguk at this time in the morning. Notebooks open, pens scattered on the driftwood table, Jeongguk has spent the morning earnestly scrawling down revisions to his business plan.

The centrepiece of the table - a single white rose in a thin vase has been put on an empty seat. Just would have been in the way.

Also kind of made Jeongguk's blood boil, but he knows he shouldn't be irrationally angry at a fucking flower. A nice one at that. An expensive one.

Just like Seokjin had made sure to remind you on his calling card.

Happy Birthday, Darling. Exquisite roses for an exquisite girl. You can pretend they're from your new guy if you like - I'm sure he agrees you deserve the best that money can buy. All my love x

Stupid prick hadn't signed his name, but he has set a precedent. There's only one person who'd send you white roses. Not just a dozen. Not two dozen. Three fucking dozen. Thirty-six.

36 identical, soulless roses destined to die within a week or so, already embarking on their demise.

Danbi had snorted. "What's that? A rose for each time he cheated?"

You had smiled. Shook your head. "Think four dozen would be needed for that."

Jeongguk had been with you when you'd redistributed the roses to your CU ajumma aunties, and had to deal with their scrutinising eyes. Had smiled, and played nicely, even when they called Seokjin the 'handsome one'. As much as he might hate that tall mother fucker, he's got a pair of eyes. Knows he's a bloody god.

And so Jeongguk had moved the rose on his table out of sight before he even realised that he would need to.

The display of his iPad, which is still covered in your small fingerprints from lazy days wasted in his bedroom, has dimmed. It obscures the last revision of the plan. Hides it away from prying eyes.

A work in progress for years, now, he started planning for the samgyeopsal restaurant during his first semester of university. Had been a hypothetical project that he just hasn't been able to let go of. Like a first love, it kept coming back to the forefront of his mind.

For a little while - he's not sure how long; three, maybe four minutes - Jeongguk has been watching the beads of condensation sweat down the side of his glass. The straw, given to him by a barista with a warm smile and nothing else remotely interesting about her, lays beside the glass, still encased in its plastic wrapper.

He hears your voice and its tone of concern each and every time he raises the now-wet glass to his lips.

Careful, Koo. It'll hurt your teeth.

With every fabricated iteration of your concern, his mile-a-minute heart temporarily eases. For those scarce moments, it doesn't feel as if it'll burst straight out of his chest from the sheer exhausting stress of the unknown; His future. Yours. The one that you may or may not have together.

Funny how you're the main source of his stresses right now, and yet are the only thing able to ease them.

And so the straw remains as it is - still, untouched - just so he can pretend you care.

Dazed and most definitely confused when he looks up, Jeongguk's vacant eyes land on Yoongi. There's a frown on the older mans face, but a softness to his eyes.

"Hm?" Jeongguk hums. "Sorry?"

Sighing, Yoongi reaches for the straw that Jeongguk has so purposefully left discarded. Snaps the thin plastic wrapper apart. Reaches over and pushes the straw through a cluster of stubborn ice that just refuses to melt. Helps his friend in a way that makes total sense, and yet Jeongguk's mind is so jumbled up that it almost feels an attack.

It's him who frowns, now. Dimples form in the creases between his lips and cheeks, a thick line making itself known in the ridge between his eyes. Yoongi pays it no notice. Simply says, "Coffee'll stain your teeth. You'll thank me when you're older."

Perhaps he will. For now, Jeongguk's teeth are still pearly white. He's no need to worry about them.

"What wrong with you, huh?" Yoongi presses. "Spent all of last week badgering me to help you out, and now that I am, you've been a world away all morning. What gives?"

For all of the words that he could use to rabbit on about you for hours upon hours, they all seem to be stuck in his throat, dryly swallowed down like bitter pills sticking against his oesophagus.

To mention you now would be to admit that you occupy all vacancies inside his brain, in each and every waking moment. You're there in the moments he doesn't spend awake, too. A constant. Just as permanent as the glitter that's trapped between the woven threads of his cotton comforter, and as deeply embedded into him as the tattoos on his skin.

Pressing his lips together, piercing flipping in the corner of his mouth like it so often does, Jeongguk shrugs. "Sorry. Think my brain is shutting down."

If Yoongi suspects anything other than this as a viable excuse, he doesn't mention it. Just nods. Accept the white lie, and Jeongguk hopes he knows there's a white flag tied around it, too.

It's not that he wants to lie to Yoongi. He just doesn't want to be honest with himself.

Phone face down on the table, Jeongguk's device holds a whole host of contradictory search terms in his browser history. Questions he could probably ask Yoongi, but won't. Questions he should ask you, but most definitely won't.

Girlfriend - cause he figures it will bring back more results than fwb, or whatever else he could equate you to - missed her period, what should I do? Do girls miss periods often? Missed period, meaning, what? Having a baby with fwb, what now? Abortions? What if an abortion doesn't work? Is adoption good for the baby? How to be a single dad? What if only one person wants to keep it? What the fuck oenejoiegohhfo e.

The final result is still open in his browser. Was about three in the morning. Jeongguk had been sweating beneath his duvet, skin just as clammy as the condensation rings that have soaked into the wooden table from his iced coffee glass.

Nothing is confirmed. No test has been done - and yet he's thinking about where a playmat would fit in the living room, but also knows the name of the clinic downtown that would quickly and effectively prevent that from ever being his reality.

"We've made good progress," Yoongi tells Jeongguk. "Can take a break, if you like? Got a couple weeks till your meeting with the bank. Still got time."

There's no place in Jeongguk's business plan for a baby. He half wonders if maybe he should ask Yoongi where to factor it in. Knows better.

So instead, Jeongguk nods. "Yeah. Think that might be good. Sorry."

Yoongi just dismisses it. Tells Jeongguk it's fine, and really means it. Knows that trying to straighten out the fine details of a hypothetical business is harder than it would first appear. They've been troubleshooting; thinking of problems just for the sake of it. Making sure that Jeongguk's application for a business loan is airtight.

Of all of his friends, Yoongi is the only one who's ever been through anything similar. Is a fountain of knowledge with a wealth of experience that he's lucky enough to have access to.

Jeongguk half-thinks he must be mad for jumping in head first with this restaurant idea of his. Isn't sure he's got what it takes. Just knows he has to at least try, so he can say he can. So that even if he suffers the lows of failure, he will have experienced the highs of hope. Maybe even the uncharted territory of success.

"Could be a good idea to talk some things through with other people," Yoongi offers. "Someone in hospitality. Maybe DB. Get different scenarios neither of us have thought of yet."

Jeongguk doesn't need any more make-believe scenarios where you're involved. Has already thought of far too many all by himself.

But Yoongi doesn't know that, and Jeongguk would like to keep it that way. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."

It's this encouragement from Yoongi that has a text from Jeongguk pinging through to your phone a quarter of an hour later. Phone in your back pocket, you'll check the notification that buzzed quietly in a moment or so.

For now, you're locked in conversation with a woman who is both everything you fear and everything you want to be. Peachy-cheeked, with a crystal white smile and lips that are somehow perpetually glossed, Jina has been talking you through the upcoming event that Taehyung is showcasing for at the Ryu.

"I was really impressed - hold on," she huff a little through the strain of reaching across the desk for her file. You immediately get to your feet to help her out. Her peach cheeks are now pretty pink apples. She exhales a deep-rooted breath and plonks back into her own chair. Laughs at herself, and her inability to do even the simplest of tasks, then rests her hand adoringly over the incredibly large bump that protrudes from her stomach. Is appreciative as she says, "Thank you." Looks down to her bump, and laughs again. "Hurry up, now. Mummy has jobs to do."

The way Jina speaks to the little life that's growing inside of her makes you want to violently vomit. Not for disgust, or anything negative, but for the fact that you're terrified of a similar fate.

Well-put together, still in designer garments, Jina has her life together. Is the Lead Gallery Coordinator at the Ryu. Spent her twenties working her way up, only to land her spot at the top two weeks before she welcomed in her thirties. She's distinguished. Had worked damn hard to stay at the top, even when her assistant is consistently trying to fill the shoes she hasn't even taken off yet.

It's why she's still working, even when her due date is within touching distance. Will be damned if some jumped up twat that studied illustration at the expense of his wealthy parents, and has never actually produced an illustration worthy of any praise, ends up behind her desk. Perhaps she's jaded, and perhaps she's bitter that she never got an easy ride, but she did at least have passion - which is more than can be said for her assistant. The only reason she keeps him on is because his parents are benefactors of the gallery. Can't fire him, even if she wants to.

"Sorry," she smiles back up at you, then hums. Ponders. Pregnancy brain is not being kind to her these days. "Where was I?"

With a kind smile, you happily remind her. "You were saying you were impressed?"

"Ah, yes! I was. I am. With the both of you, actually. Kim Taehyung is producing art that actually entices people, which is a rarity these days. I'm surprised his portfolio wasn't passed onto me sooner."

Although when she considers her assistant, the surprise wanes.

"And you," she continues, then looks down to flick through the proposed show in the file you put together earlier that day. "You say you're just doing this part-time? As a favour?"

Nodding, you explain, "Taehyung's a friend, and this is my area of interest. Should have gone down this route straight after university, but you know what the industry is like."

With a pitiful smile, Jina nods. "No money in it unless you already have money."

It's no secret that the arts are a luxury for those who can afford them - not just the masterpieces themselves, but the time to indulge in them. Apprenticeships and internships pay poorly, so in order to get your foot on the ladder, you have to come from money. Have to be able to rely on parents, or aunts, or uncles to fund your living expenses while you live out your dreams.

Wasn't an option you'd had, so a compromise had been made in the form of the art cafe. It's minimum wage, but you do at least enjoy it and can pay the bills.

At such a point in her career where the money is good enough for her to never worry about finances, Jina's heart bleeds for you. From one creative to another, she wishes there was a way she could help.

"You've got everything I'd look for in an assistant," she tells you, and the compliment just serves to make you feel disappointed. Success has always been a goal of yours, and you regret not working harder towards it. The past year has taught you many things, but mainly it's reinforced the idea that you shouldn't spend time on things or people who don't enrich your heart.

And so you throw caution to the wind; chance a suggestion that you know is beyond your capabilities.

"Well, perhaps I could help out when you're on maternity leave?" You chance. Know that you don't have enough experience nor credentials to take on her role, but fuck it. What's the worst she could do? Say no? "Help keep things running smoothly?"

When Jina smiles, you know that rejection is coming your way - but at least you tried.

"No money in the job," she sighs. "The gallery director hasn't opened up a vacancy. My assistant is stepping up."

Even saying it out loud makes her blood boil - but she knows it's bad for the baby, so tries to cool it.

"I have a sneaky suspicion that they'll open up a vacancy in April. Maybe May. When it does, you'd be top of my list for recommendations," she offers. Knows that things are gonna fall apart without her there. The higher-ups won't realise what a fundamental error of judgement they've made until it's too late. "That if you'd be interested?"

You don't think you've ever been asked such a stupid question.

This is a lie.

You've spent time with the Dionysus boys. Have been asked a million questions than this one.

"Of course!" You enthuse. "I mean, I don't get me wrong, I love my job - but an opportunity like this would be... I don't even know," you laugh, unable to articulate yourself properly, so try simplicity. "Yes. Please. If that happens, please pass along my details."

She nods. Understands your excitement. Was in a very similar position, once upon a time. All it took was someone taking a chance on her. She'd like to do the same for you. Has seen your work ethic for an unpaid favour to a friend. Knows you wouldn't let her down.

"Now," she smiles, moving along the conversation as to not dwell on a situation that might never happen. "We're about a week out from the next show - has Taehyung finished the new piece? Any causes for concern?"

"Yes, and no," you assure her, even if it is a little lie.

Taehyung scrapped his piece last minute and has been in the studio ever since your birthday. Had a new wave of inspiration, apparently. Declared as such about twenty minutes after the knocking from Danbi's bedroom had eventually come to an end, so you dread to think of what this new piece could be like.

Still, you trust his creative process, so know that whatever he produces will be more than enough to satisfy the gallery execs.

The meeting runs smoothly; no hiccups to iron out. The subway ride back to the middle of town has to contemplate what life could be like had you met Taehyung earlier; if you could have a career to be proud of by now.

But there was no Taehyung without Jeongguk, and no Jeongguk without the devastating impact of Seokjin. Funny, how the entire time you were with Seokjin, he'd wished you had a better job. Lamented the minimum wage, and your irregular working hours. Would steer the direction away from what the pays the bills whenever you'd meet one of his friends, and they'd ask, 'what do you do for work?'. He'd never been proud, and so in turn, nor had you.

You wonder if he'd be proud now. It's bittersweet.

And as you arrive at Jeongguk's favourite cafe and spot him immediately - chin in his palm, a soft pout on his lips, papers scattered all over his table - you're the one who feels proud.

Seeing the ones you love chase their dreams is a special sort of pride. One that makes your heart swell. So much potential. So much hope.

Ordering up fresh drinks before you head over, there's a thick tension in the air. Jeongguk doesn't even realise you're here yet. Is too consumed with thoughts of you, like the idiot he is. Thoughts you, and his future, and how he doesn't know how to plan anything when he doesn't know what life will look like a year from now.

He clocks you as you're confirming the order with the barista. A hot flash of panic disrupts his body, but it cools just as quickly. Fucks with his body temperature regulation. Makes him feel all clammy and horrible despite the aircon in the cafe.

There's a smile on your lips, and Jeongguk finds one on his, too. There's a shine to his eyes that only glitters whenever you're nearby, and it's noticeable all the way from across the cafe.

Coffees in hand, clothes remarkably formal for a day off, Jeongguk narrows his eyes as you approach.

"What have you been up to?" he queries instead of greeting you properly, not caring for small-talk. Wants to know the big stuff. His brain has been cruel to him today. Hopes you can help remedy it slightly.

"Gallery," you simply say, taking the seat beside him.

There are four chairs at the table. Yoongi had been sitting opposite Jeongguk. You could have chosen to sit there, too.

He doesn't mention it.

"Everything going alright?" He asks, reaching over for his coffee with a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks."

"All good, I think," you say, sucking a little air between your teeth.

He cocks a brow. "You don't sound convinced."

With a bit of a defeated shrug, you purse your lips together. "I just..."

The way you trail off is all too familiar. Jeongguk's used to it. Has been a while since you struggled to find your words so badly.

"Big girl words," he teases softly, which earns him a small laugh from you.

"Fuck off," you smile, then shake your head to realign your thoughts. "No, I just... Sorry. Did it again. I just don't know how sustainable this all is, yanno?"

Jeongguk doesn't say a word. Knows that you aren't done formulating just yet - and when you sigh, before launching into a little ramble, he's proven right.

"I mean, I'm already a shift down this week to help with prep, and next week I've had to book two days off work. And like, honestly, it's fine," you stress. "I enjoy it so much, but long term? When Tae's shows get bigger and bigger? I just dunno, Gguk. Dunno."

You want it to be long-term. Never knew it was something you wanted until you realised maybe you can't have it. Seem unattainable now in a way that you knew before you started helping Taehyung out. The thing so wonderful about dreams is that you fool yourself into thinking they can come true. You neglect rational thinking.

Confronted with the restraints of the industry, it's hard to ignore. Hard to pretend like you could still have it, if you really want it. Things like that don't happen for people like you.

"Well just wait until I get the restaurant going," he smiles, knowing he doesn't have a solution for you - but that he does have the ability to talk about the future with you in a way that doesn't feel all that terrifying. "When I'm super successful and have queues out the door, I'll hire you. Will pay you above minimum wage and let you work with Tae on the side."

"Oh yeah?" You grin, enthused by the childlike excitement in his sparkly eyes. "Gonna be a big hot shot restaurant owner?"

"I'll have you know, I'll be the CEO," he nods his head smugly.

"Oh, that's sexy," you tell him.

"I know."

You hum a little and then decide that a little flirt is okay. "Would be kinda hot, fucking the boss, wouldn't it?"

He raises a brow. Swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, wetting his lip ring as he toys with it. "Would be a HR nightmare."

"Would give me a reason to call you Sir."

"Don't," he smiles, eyes closing, teeth showing. Sweetness encapsulates him despite the stickiness of the scenario that's playing out inside his head right now. Shakes his head. Slowly opens his eyes to find you again. Laughs. "You're fuckin' trouble, Byeol."

"S'why you like me."

"True," he admits rather shamelessly. Doesn't fancy denying it today. Not to himself. Not to you. Not to the world around him.

The air between you gets thinner. Feels like you can only keep breathing if you keep your eyes on one another. Up, and up you go into the atmosphere. Any higher, and you'll be in the fucking stars.

"I hate to ask..." Jeongguk murmurs and you immediately feel your floating soul crash back down to earth. The stars are off-limits today. Your feet must remain firmly on the ground.

"Then don't," you say sharply, not wanting the conversation to go in the direction you know he's steering it in.

"Byeol," he simply reprimands, knowing that it's a conversation that needs to be had. "You've not given me any updates."

"'Cause there's been nothing to report back," you say, as if it's no big deal; as if you haven't spent every waking moment thinking about it. As if your daydreams aren't getting more and more concerning. "I've skipped a month. That's all. It's not that uncommon."

"Well, according to WebMD, apparently some women get periods even when they are pregnant - like, certified, tested, proven true pregnant," Jeongguk states, his late-night research coming to the forefront of his mind. "That's not supposed to happen. Just like you're not supposed to miss your periods when you're not pregnant-"

"Gguk," you plead. "It's not that linear. All sorts of things affect periods."

"I know," he replies, and bless his heart, he really does think he knows. "Stress, eating habits, exercise, medical issues - I've read, like, 6 articles about PCOS in the last 24 hours. Didn't even know what it was last week."

You're fond as you smile over at him. "Why have you been reading PCOS articles?"

" Because ," he stresses, but gives no immediate follow up. Looks over to you with pleading eyes, like a puppy dog waiting for scraps. "Look B, I don't know what's going on. You won't tell me what's going on. The best I can do is try and understand."

"I've told you, Gguk. It's fine. Please. Just trust me."

It's a naive ask, for him to trust you, when you don't even trust yourself.

"Will you please just take a test?" He asks. "The longer it takes, the less options you'll have. We'll have."

You know he's right. Know that there's a test waiting in your bedroom, and that you've spent hours looking at because you're terrified of a result. A positive result, that is.

You won't admit to the way that the idea of a negative result makes you feel. Not to Jeongguk, nor to yourself. It's not what you want. You know that it wouldn't fit into your life. You know that the idea of being in Jina's position would wreck any goals or plans for your life.

And then you're feeling defensive. Pressured. Overwhelmed.

"Look, I said it's fine," you insist, trying to reassure not only him, but yourself too. "I know my body. It just does this sometimes. If anything, I'm probably less fertile than I should be."

"Yeah, but you don't know that-"

"And you don't know that I'm not."

"B, this affects us both," Jeongguk says, his patience waning, tone firming. He's right.

"I know that!" You snap back, 'cause it feels like he's backing you into a corner. "You think I'm not aware? Gguk, if I am-" you refuse to say the word, then quieten your voice. Look around. Get a little closer. "If I am , then I'm the one who has to deal with it. I'm the one who has to live with it. I'm the one who has to experience it."

"Oh what, so suddenly I play no part in this?" He argues right back, but keeps his voice quiet. Mirrors you. Is right there in the corner with you. If this is a boxing match, then he's not your opponent; he's the coach giving you water in the break and patching you up. There's no need to see him as the enemy. "I'm not just some random fucking guy, B. I'm not about to jump ship."

"Okay, hypothetical," you say, encouraging him to use his imagination a little. Try and see things how you see them. "It's positive. I don't want it, you do. Then what? What do we do?"

He's silent for a moment. Looks a little defeated as he shrugs. Doesn't look at you. "We'd get rid."

And even though it's what you think is the correct answer - putting priority on the carrier of the child - it still makes you a little sad. There are layers to such a decision. It's not straightforward. The complexities are beyond what you're capable of considering. There is no 'correct' answer. There are just choices; the one that you take, and the ones that you don't.

It's a curse how vivid your imagination can be; how you can imagine the rough skin by the tips of his fingers as he'd hold your hand in the waiting room, the look in his eyes as you turn to steal a glance at him before going through a pair of double doors that would ultimately change the outcome of your future, and the sterile scent of a medical facility that you'd really rather never visit.

You can picture his smile; pretty but ever so weak. Gorgeous little lies of 'it's okay' wrapped up with bows that could have maybe one day been tied in a child's hair instead.

Pull yourself together, you scold yourself. You don't even want a kid!

"If I were to get rid of it, while you wanted it... Gguk, you would resent me for what I took from you until the day you died," you say solemnly.

The gravity of it all is setting in. A positive result would ruin your lives regardless of whichever option you choose.

The pair of you have been gambling, and it seems like your luck is out.

"I wouldn't," Jeongguk frowns.

"How do you know?"

"Well how can you be certain that I would?" he counters. Is desperately trying see your point of view, but it's obscured by his own opinion on the matter. "Look, none of this is worth us getting worked up about until we know what the fuck we're dealing with. You might not even be pregnant."

He's right. You know he's right. The word makes your stomach lurch regardless.

So you nod, but plead, "Just give me a little time. Please."

He agrees. Knows that you do at least have a little more time before any certain decisions would need to be made. Walks you home. Tells you to keep him updated.

But then one day turns into two, then three, then four - and before you know it, you're ignoring one another, trying to pretend like all of this isn't happening; as if nothing has changed, and as if you haven't potentially fucked it all up just 'cause you couldn't stop messing about.

It's laughable, really. Your insatiable need to fuck one another has become its own form of birth control. Jeongguk isn't even waking up hard these days. Too stressed. No worry of fucking, now. Dick seems to be broken.

In all reality, he knows that it's nothing to do with his cock. He's not waking up hard, 'cause there's a lack of blood flow. Heart isn't pumping it like it normally does. Goes with the territory of not having you around.

But if he acknowledges that, he acknowledges everything he stands to lose before he's even had a chance to have it. Have you .

It's what he's thinking of now - cock limp, scowl hard - the night before Taehyung's art show. It's been five days. You've not kept him updated. He's not asked for updates.

You've both been pathetic - but he's attributing it to you. Thinks you're deliberately being childish so that he won't think having a kid is a good idea - as if he even wants them right now.

Sitting on the couches of Taehyung's studio space, the usual suspects are up to nothing much. Just having a few drinks the night before the show. It's a bit of ritual - nothing set in stone, just kind of what happens. The easing of Taehyung's nerves means he always wants to indulge.

Stewing in the corner like a little parasite, Jeongguk's face of thunder hasn't eased all evening. He never gives a straight answer when he's asked about these little moods of his, so no one has bothered to press too hard. He is at least in attendance - which is more than can be said for you.

"It really doesn't matter," Taehyung smiles, unphased by Jeongguk, stroking Danbi's back as she scrolls through her phone, looking for outfit inspiration.

"Yeah, no offence Danbi, but everyone's gonna be looking at the art," Jimin mumbles through a mouthful of overpriced breadsticks. "No one is gonna care what you wear."

Rolling her eyes, Danbi doesn't care for his opinion. "So? I want people to look at me, which is why my outfit needs to good."

Still stroking her back, Taehyung is so incredibly fond of her unwavering self-assured place in the world. "People will be looking at you," he supports her. "What's DB wearing?"

Flicking through to your message thread, which had ended earlier that afternoon with a very blatant bullshit excuse for your lack of attendance, Danbi scrolls up to find the picture you'd sent her earlier that day.

"Oh, it's nice," Taehyung downplays it. Knows exactly why Danbi is desperate to find something showstopping. Will never let her be aware of this, though. What he does do, is make sure it reaches the right people. "She shown you, Gguk?"

The grunt that Jeongguk makes is barely audible. If there's one thing he doesn't want to see right now, it's you. Especially you looking all fancy and shit.

He's still annoyed. You haven't spoken to him since your fight other than to send him dumb instagram reels. Rabbits hopping about. Shit like that. He smiles every damn time and it only serves to piss him off even more.

But, like the true nuisance she is, Danbi forwards the picture through to Jeongguk. She hasn't heard directly from you that you're fighting with Jeongguk, but anyone who has spent time with the both of you in the last few days will be able to figure it out.

Jeongguk knows better than to click through on the notification. Knows that if you wanted him to know what you're wearing, you would have shown him.

But he misses you.

Wants to see you, even if he knows it will only serve to annoy him even more.

He's proven right.

Standing in front of your mirror - the one used for your first selfie with the bird necklace on Christmas Eve, and also used for your own sadistic pleasure on that very first evening Jeongguk learned what it felt like to be yours - you're in a black dress.

Satin, he thinks. Something silky. It's short, like your dresses so often are, cutting off midway down your thighs. Fitted. Sweetheart neckline that blooms over the top of your chest, with sleeves that follow this same structured line. Shoulders fully exposed, there is a small tickle of satisfaction when Jeongguk notices your bird sitting prettily in place, right where it should be.

Even if you are annoyed, like he knows you are, you're keeping him close. It's more than can be said for last time. You've no intention of pushing him away or so it would seem. He takes comfort in this, a self-indulgent smile on his lips - until he realises and flattens them once more.

"S'fine," he just says as he locks his phone, as if his heart isn't beating all irregularly. "I'm sure she'll look nice."

Danbi glances over to Taehyung, who just rolls his eyes, and encourages her to show him more of her own options.

Jeongguk pretends to scroll through his phone. Is really just looking at that picture of you again. Hates the way it makes him feel. All fuzzy and out of sync. Perfectly safe and yet terrified all in the same fleeting moment.

Has him thinking about what he should wear, too, even if the other boys are telling Danbi that it really doesn't matter.

You look so well put together, he thinks. So intentionally gorgeous. He would say unintentionally , and knows you'd look just as gorgeous in one of his old shirts, but is well aware that you've put effort in. It should be appreciated.

It's decided - at two-thirty in the morning, all alone by himself, contents of his wardrobe piled onto the floor - that Jeongguk will also be wearing all black.

He will match you. It will be intentional. He will hope you notice.

'Cause even if he is a little pissed off with you, it doesn't matter. Had grown up with parents who'd bicker, but would always say 'there's no one else I'd rather argue with.'

He thinks the same could be said for the pair of you.

If your worst fears are confirmed, and you're forever tied to him, then it's something you'll need to learn to navigate. Neither of you are perfect, but neither of you are pretending to be. You're showing him exactly who you are by showing him nothing at all, right now.

And he adores you all the fucking same.

Jeongguk decides on black slacks, and will pair them with a thick belt. A satin shirt will be tucked in, unbuttoned just enough for a little bit of his chest to show. Nothing too indecent. Just wants to match your neckline.

The jacket he's chosen is red. Hopes it'll dare you to look at him, and prevent you from ever looking away. He's being bold, 'cause he stupidly thinks he needs to be, as if you won't be searching for solace in the form of him all night.

He also thinks he needs to consider the kind of man you want . The kind you need . You seem to go for the prim types. The proper. Well-dressed, well-groomed. He's got the outfit sorted. Knows he's being a little risky with the lack of a top button and tie, but he also knows he looks good - so fuck it.

Which is also what he says to his barber on the morning of the show.

"You've been growing it out for a while," she hums. Only re-permed it a couple of weeks ago. Hadn't been expecting him to come for a walk-in appointment so soon.

He shrugs. "Fuck it. It's just hair. It'll grow back."

She laughs, and tells him that he's right - but double-checks before she goes in with the clippers. He's not had anything so close to the scalp in about a year. Started growing it out around the same time you started showing up to the bar.

He braces himself. Grits his teeth. Don't let fear get the better of you.

"I'm sure."

Time stands still within the walls of the Ryu. Moments of life - fleeting expressions of biased emotions - are preserved for voyeuristic viewing pleasure. You're a guilty participant. Salivate over the mixed media, and equally mixed messages. Have a desire to understand. To decipher. To know.

The walls are dark. Slate grey when the floodlights are on, they look black under the diffused bulbs that focus solely on the works.

'Unplugged: The Lonely Hearts of the Digital Age' reads the exhibition branding on the front of the paper guide in your hand. There's an evocative nature to the pieces; an exploration of intimacy and isolation in the modern landscape of smartphones and high-speed internet.

"Oh, entirely," you smile pleasantly at the gentleman twice your age, who had come to stand beside you while you had been observing some of the work. He's been asking your thoughts, and you've been bullshitting spectacularly. "In a world where we're more connected than ever before, there somehow seems to be this... disconnect . A real lack of interpersonal relationships that stand the test of time."

He nods, half-moon glasses resting across the bridge of his short nose. "Too easy these days. Dating apps, and whatnot."

You cast your eyes down to the fingers he has wrapped around a champagne flute. He's without a ring. You wonder if he's a victim to them, too.

"The grass is greener mentality," you agree. Know all too well what it's like to be on the receiving end of such a dilemma. "Always searching for something... more."

A small chuckle emits from his thin lips as he continues to agree.

One of the serving staff, no older than a high school senior, offers their tray of champagne in your direction, but you decline. It's unusual of you - but it's no secret you've not been feeling exactly 'usual' lately.

From across the room, Jeongguk glances in your direction as you shake your hand and head, a polite smile on your lips as you refuse a drink. Your eyes don't flash to his, but he doesn't need them to.

When your gaze falls back to the artwork in front of you, he can easily see your perplexion.

He also notices how your skin doesn't sparkle like it usually does beneath gallery lights. A tight frown forms on his face to match yours.

The paintings you're looking at aren't Taehyung's. Jeongguk doesn't know the artist. Oil, he assumes from this distance. Hyperrealism. Enlarged. A matching pair with stark differences.

The first, to the left, is dark. Navy blues and deep purples depict the foils of condom wrappers, each with a name and date scrawled into them. They're scattered atop what looks like a legal document.

He can't work out the words from where he is. Doesn't realise they're divorce papers.

None of the wrappers match the name of the document, yet all of the wrappers are dated during the duration of the marriage.

On the right hand side, the other painting is clearly part of the same collection. A packet of oral contraception. 28 days worth. Includes the placebo days. Like the condoms, each empty window of the contraception has a name. Some repeating. Some not. There are no names written during the placebo week.

It begs the question; is the taker of the contraception just using the men when it's convenient for her? Or are they just using her when it's convenient for them, and leaving her in the dust when her body is unavailable?

You're not sure which scenario makes you sadder. Reminds you of this time last year. Reminds you of Seokjin. Reminds you of the people that you used to forget about him on the lonely nights.

If you were to think about your own pills, and the names that would inscribed, you know you'd have packet after packet with only one name. Everyday of the week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, every night. Over the placebo days, too.

Not because Jeongguk has been fucking you all day every day - although sometimes it does feel like that. No. It's not that all.

Instead, it would be because he gives you the intimacy you need to make those pills worth it. He doesn't have to constantly be in bed with you. Quite often isn't. It's just that you'll keep taking those pills 'cause you always want to be available for him in any capacity you can be. Those pills are his just as much as they are yours.

And you hate it.

Hate that you feel this way. Hate that indulging in such intimacy with the person you hold closest has resulted in such a clusterfuck of emotions. Hate that he isn't beside you right now, deciphering the names and making up ridiculous stories about the fictional people in front of you. Hate that when you glance over to his direction, you find him engaged in conversation with a group of people you consider friends, only to notice that Hayun is there, too.

Your arms fold a little tighter into your chest as your eyes fall back on the painting. You're alone, now, the man who had been chatting with you also now distracted by associates.

"Hey," a soft, feminine voice sounds next to you. Seoyeon. Hair loose, but with pretty little plaits running through it, she's wearing white trousers and a fitted blazer. Looks demure as ever. "You okay?"

A simple question that calls for a simple answer - yet it feels all rather complex.

You nod. Say you are. Return the question. She returns your answer.

"Gosh, that's depressing," she says of the artwork, and it makes you laugh. She's not wrong.

"Makes you feel something, at least," you offer, to which she hums in agreement.

"I suppose - but I was feeling perfectly happy before I saw it," she giggles, nudging your shoulder, seemingly aware of your less-than-stellar mood. "Watcha doing over here all alone?"

It's a great question. Fantastic question. Devastating answer.

Oh, so I've been fucking Jeongguk for months and he's convinced himself that I'm carrying his spawn and now he's mad at me because I haven't done the test to confirm nor deny. Oh why? Why I haven't done it? 'Cause it'll change the trajectory of my whole entire life and I'm fucking terrified. And I skip periods all the time. No biggie.

Now isn't the time for such honesties, though.

"Just wanted to read all the names," you say, nodding towards the art.

"See any you recognise?"

"Well, there is a Jimin on the first Wednesday," you grin.

"Why am I not surprised," Seoyeon laughs. "Our very own Casanova. Oh - speak of the devil!"

"Devil?" Jimin questions as he approaches you both with fresh champagne flutes in either hand. "Me? Please. You both know I'm an angel."

The way you incredulously both raise your eyebrows at him, bemused smirks on your faces, would suggest that no, you don't 'know' he's an angel.

"Oh, piss off," he laughs, standing between you both, offering you the champagne flutes. When you decline, he's curious. "Oh? Dry night?"

Nodding, you decide that you'll give as few answers as possible when it comes to your lack of drinking - not that it matters, given how much you've abused your body with star fuckers in recent weeks. Any damage is already, inevitably done.

"One of us needs to be the sensible one," you joke, and ignore the burning gaze you can feel from across the room.

His stare is sweltering, like early May heat after a freezing spring, regardless of the cool air that's currently circulating around the room.

It's stuffy, the way his eyes follow you. Suffocating.

And yet you love the warmth. Want evidence of him on your skin like the burn of a summer sun.

Turning your head as Seoyeon and Jimin natter, you're surprised to find his shamelessly dark eyes still on you.

Hair pushed back, he's wearing it shorter than usual. It takes you a moment to realise it's been cut. You think a part of you dies from such a devastating loss - but it's revitalised within the same millisecond. It's criminal how handsome he looks. How mature he seems. Jaw tense, bone structure highlighted, he's a vision. Heaven. Ethereal.

Matching your all black attire, there's one keen difference. One that throws you off entirely: his jacket. It's one you've never seen before. Red. A kaleidoscope of different tones. Dappled, they bleed into one another. You can tell it's expensive. Tell it's being worn with a purpose.

It's unusual for him, and yet he holds a beauty that can only be compared to that of Venus herself. The jacket was made for him.

But you don't like the idea that maybe actually it was made for him, by the only seamstress you know. See no other reason for him to own such an item.

Stupidly, it upsets you how good red looks on him. Pisses you off.

Across the circle of people he stands with is the seamstress herself.

Just as you match him with your silky black dress, she matches him with her scarlet nails and deep ruby cocktail number. Gorgeous in the way that her hair effortlessly waves over her shoulders, she pays your judgemental eyes no notice.

They look good together. Like they belong. A good girl. Upper class. Bad boy. Her bit of 'rough'. Jeongguk likes a good Romeo and Juliet type story. You're sure he loves the romanticisation of their coupling.

So caught up in your own head, you almost miss the way Jimin deliberately chooses to include you in on the conversation once more. Just asks your opinion on the piece, then asks if you know the artist. He wants to check that he's not the Jimin scrawled into the pill packet.

"I'll find out," you promise him - but you're certain he's not. Park Jimin isn't exactly the most unique of names, but you don't want to hurt his ego.

"Legend," he grins, before roping Namjoon in for his opinion on whether or not it's his name.

"It's nothing to be proud of," Namjoon assure him. "If it's you, you're being branded as a hit it and quit it kinda guy. You're only on there once. Most of them are on their a few times. You not good enough for round two?"

Scoffing, Jimin looks to you for defence.

You just smile. Make your excuses and leave. Bless him.

As beautiful as the show is, there's a sadness to it. It revives unpleasant memories. Provokes parts of your brain that have been well trained to not make a noise.

Schmoozing with some of the higher ups from Shilla finances, you're going for the hard sell. Telling them all about Taehyung, and how he's hotly tipped to be one of the most successful artists of this generation.

It's all bullshit, of course, but someone has to have that title. Why shouldn't it be him?

"He certainly does have a gift," one of the older men acknowledges. His name evades you now, but you remember him from networking events with Seokjin. Would always treat the serving staff with kindness, which is more than could be said for most of them. It's the only reason you're entertaining the conversation - the other men you recognise from those events have been avoided by you at all costs.

You're about to call Taehyung over, when the looming intrusion of a bowing gentleman makes itself known in your personal space. It's his presence you notice first. Aftershave second. Stoic, burly voice third.

"Director Choi," he interjects from behind you. "It's good to see you here."

Smiling, with just as much kindness as he shows to everyone, Choi nods back. "Kim Seokjin! I didn't realise you'd be here tonight."

"Ah, well," Seokjin smiles. You can hear it in his tone, even if you daren't turn to face him. Your skin suddenly chills as his large hands rest over the tops of your bare shoulders. "Was back in town, and couldn't miss it. You're speaking with the city's best curator."

The way he squeezes your shoulders, skin on skin, makes you want to be sick. It's as if you've had far too much of the champagne you've been turning down all evening - but your stomach is empty. All you'd be able to do is gag.

Yet your body is entirely frozen.

And neither of the men care enough to notice.

"It's quite the collection," Choi nods, but doesn't keep his focus on you. Like the serving staff, he's always polite to you, but will always see you as a second-class citizen. You're not a man. He doesn't respect you. As human? Yes, he does. But as a person? Why would he waste his time if he can't profit off of you? "Tell me Seokjin, how have you been? I hear your department is up by 3.7% this week?"

The conversation around you is stuffy, like that sticky summer heat clinging to your skin once more. It's unpleasant, but inescapable. There's nothing you can do, except let it ruin you.

One breath in; through the nose. One breath out; through the mouth.

Repeat.

One breath in; through the nose. One breath out; through the mouth.

There's a squeeze of Seokjin's hands; a silent instruction to not move your shoulders so much.

Half a breath in. Half a breath out.

You've an inability to focus on anything other than basic survival.

In the times you've seen Seokjin since the breakup, he's always been so good at acting as if it never happened. He touches you just the same. Speaks with just as much fondness that always made you think you actually meant something to him.

For so long, you wished he would be like that with you in public. Would proudly claim you as his own.

But now that he is, all you want is for him to look at you with remorse. Regret.

Sort of like Jeongguk is doing, as he spots you from across the room. Was just doing his quarter-of-an-hourly checks to make sure you're still okay - even if he is annoyed with you. Thinks that anyone who has ever spent even a smidgeon of time with you should know that the look in your eyes is far from okay.

They're downcast. To the floor. Your nostrils flare ever so gently as you inhale. Mouth forms a delicate pout as you exhale. Breathing exercises. He recognises them instantly. They're the same ones Jeongguk does when he's frustrated and trying his damn hardest to not break another display case.

It's been working lately. Not a permanent fix, no, but it's been going okay. Has finally been reading one of Namjoon's self-help books that's been on his bedside table for months. Fills the time that should be spent on you doing that, instead.

But Jeongguk thinks all of his hard work might just go down the fucking drain when he realises what's happening. When he notices exactly who has a possessive grip on you. When, from across the room, he hears Seokjin laughing at some vapid joke that he knows mustn't be even remotely funny.

"Hey, Dan," he calls over to your best friend, breaking her from her conversation with Taehyung. When she looks at Jeongguk, she follows the direction in which he nods.

She gasps. Drops her hold on Taehyung's forearm, and doesn't hesitate to beeline straight for you.

Jeongguk knows it should have been him - but he also knows you're stubborn. Knows you might have chosen to stay put just to spite him. Also knows that stress if bad for the body. Says so in another one of those webMD tabs open on his phone. You're stressed enough as it is. Don't need him causing a scene. Danbi is what you need right now.

Not him.

But he needs air - so heads out towards the stairwell and just keeps on going up. Up and up, until there's nowhere left to go. Closer and closer to the stars. Further and further away from his very own.

Elbows resting on the wall of the rooftop, Jeongguk lets a deep-rooted sigh exhale from his body. Lungs heavy in his chest, he's in need of respite - yet even that seems like an unattainable goal these days.

He wishes to be back in Busan; where the sun shines and so do you.

The darkness of the city envelopes him, now, much like it obscures his heart. Confuses it. Tells him all sorts of lies. She loves you. She loves you not. She loves you. She loves you not. He's not sure what's the truth, anymore.

He's not plucked at daisy petals since he was a kid, but he does occasionally pull glitter from his skin. That's when the rhyme repeats. That's how he knows he only has space in his heart for you.

And so when the bustling sound of the city is interrupted by a voice that isn't yours, he frowns.

"Watcha doing up here, buddy?"

The roll of Jeongguk's eyes is so damn weighted he's surprised it doesn't sound like stones are being turned. Of all the people he wants to be alone with right now, Hayun would be towards the bottom of the list. Likely beaten only by your shitbag of an ex.

"Needed some air," he lies. Doesn't look at her as she takes the space beside him, then shuffles over a little. Doesn't wanna touch her. The intrusion of her perfume is enough to make him feel sick. Has done ever since she approached him in the courtyard of Dionysus.

"Could have gone for a smoke with Tae," she says all rather pleasantly.

Jeongguk is well aware of this. Truth be told, he could do with a cigarette. Could do with many things right now.

Could do with a few shots, or even a high. MDMA, maybe. Something that'll have him thinking death is inevitable before he manages to reach his come up. Could spend the whole night pinging. Wouldn't have to think about you, or your ex, or the fact his heart already feels like it's got a little ecstasy running through it these days.

But you're not drinking, and so Jeongguk isn't smoking. Is finally actually trying to make some good decisions for a change, to atone for all of his questionable ones.

He shakes his head. Bunches his face up ever so slightly. Is dismissive as he simply says, "Didn't fancy it."

Just like he doesn't fancy engaging in this conversation.

She nods, pretending to care. Fabricating a persona that matches how awfully pretty she is. "You don't seem like yourself."

Mentally, Jeongguk sneers. Physically, he remains unchanged. Statuesque.

"You've been saying that ever since you came back," he eventually sighs. Looks over to her. Doesn't mean to be so cold, but frankly no longer has the patience. "You can't fuck people over and expect them to welcome you back with open arms. Doesn't work like that, Yun."

Hayun's laugh is parasitic. Gets under his skin. Crawls about. Makes him feel sick. His body rejects it.

"She's inside your head," is all she says. "Never used to be like this before she came around."

In the far distance, a police siren sounds. It's swallowed up by the fumes of rattling exhaust pipes and the posing arrival of planes from foreign lands. In a city that never rests, Jeongguk thinks it mad that Hayun expected him to remain exactly as he was.

Doesn't even register what she says about you. Pays it no attention.

"I don't wanna keep doing this, Hayun," Jeongguk says quietly.

It's strange, because he knows it's the 'right' thing to do, but it still doesn't feel entirely correct.

Years of knowing her - of loving her - have been reduced to nothing but resentment and wasted time. Everything he experienced with her equates to emptiness. The good - of which there was plenty - and the bad - of which there was marginally more.

"What do you mean?" she asks, as if she doesn't already know.

"I don't wanna pretend like we're still friends," he simply states. "It's doing nobody any favours."

It's something he should have said a long time ago. Something he's known for far longer than he's wanted to admit. Something Jimin has been telling him for years.

"Gguk," she tries, and reaches out for his hand - but Jeongguk tears it away from her.

"No," he reaffirms. Is setting boundaries. Is being as firm with her as he wishes you'd be with Seokjin. He keeps his voice measured. Sensible. Wastes no more energy than is needed. "I'll be perfectly cordial with you, but I'm not gonna act like we're anything more than strangers. Said it yourself, you don't know who I am these days. Please stop trying to find whoever you think I used to be."

"So I guess the marriage pact is vetoed?" She tries to joke. Thinks that making light of the situation will ease things. Make them less awkward.

He doesn't dignify her with a direct response to that. Instead, he stands a little straighter. Taps his ringed fingers against the wall so that a clunky pat sounds against the urethane coating that covers the entire roof area. Turns to face her. Looks down upon her. "I'm asking you nicely, Hayun - but if I have to ask again, I won't be."

There's nothing she can say to reel him back in. Not anymore. Not like she used to. She knows this. Hates this.

But one thing Hayun refuses to ever do is embarrass herself. Not for a man. Especially not for one she didn't even want that badly in the first place.

That's exactly the issue at hand, though. He was always the one chasing her. Always. Must have worn through a hundred pairs of shoes in pursuit of her - but he's stopped running now, and she can't quite wrap her head around it.

"Okay," she simply says. Smiles. It's insincere. Jeongguk doesn't realise this, 'cause it looks like every other fuckin' smile she's ever cast his way. "Look, emotions are high. I won't take this to heart. Whenever you're ready, you know where to find me."

Glancing over to the door, Hayun's ruby-red lips falter. Her smile almost cracks, but she holds herself well.

"Oh, goodie," Hayun hums. "Suppose I should leave you to it."

Jeongguk doesn't follow her gaze. Knows that there's only one person who could evoke such a reaction - and right now, he's annoyed with you, too.

He does, at least, say, "I suppose you should."

It's not until Hayun begins to strut away that Jeongguk turns to the door. Not to watch her walk away, no.

To watch you walk towards him, instead - but you don't.

You stay leant against the door frame. There's a sultry smile on your lips, and he's surprised to see they move a little as Hayun approaches. He can't hear you, but he knows your lips almost better than he knows his own. Can work out exactly what you're saying.

Lipstick's a little smudged.

Jeongguk knows that it absolutely is not - but the way Hayun's hand lifts to her lips suggests that she doesn't know this.

It's evident you're trying to evoke some sort of insecurity in her. Seems to have worked. Also seems to be incredibly mean-spirited - but he's not gonna hold it against you. Knows that it's the least Hayun deserves. It's not like he was exactly kind to Seokjin upon meeting him, either.

The sounds of the city echo out around you as a small breeze carries the scent of the trees that are finally starting to rebloom after a harsh winter. There's hope to be found in the darkness of this night. The promise of rebirth.

Or at least there is, until you begin to make excuses to leave.

"Just came up for some air," you explain, not looking to engage in conversation with him. If anything, you just feel like you're losing your breath.

He nods. Purses his lips. Turns away from you. Hopes you'll come to join him.

There's a you-sized spot right beside him. Hayun had tried forcing her way in, but the fit just wasn't right.

His broad shoulders widen as his elbows rest back upon the wall, body silhouetted in the skyline. Something about him today feels so new. So different. Maybe it's just the hair - but hair holds history. You feel like he's cut you out of his. Is starting afresh, maybe.

Whatever the case, he's clearly not concerned in inviting you into his current narrative. Is quite literally blocking you out.

You had arrived to find him locked in conversation with Hayun. Engaged. He'd watched her walk away, and the moment she was gone, couldn't stand the sight of you, or so it seems.

And so as Jeongguk waits - wishes - for you to walk towards him and slink your arm around his waist, you decide to cut your losses. Hadn't even come up to the roof to see him. Had been hoping to be alone after the whole Seokjin debacle.

It's not like you hadn't known Seokjin would be in attendance tonight.

He had messaged you to confirm the date. You just hadn't expected him to waltz in like a proud partner, parading you around in front of his colleagues.

So yeah, you had been shocked. Had been unable to respond in a way that accurately conveyed how you felt. Had panicked. Had cried in the storage room that Danbi had dragged you into while she gave you a pep talk and wiped away your stray tears, before suggesting you get some air.

You wonder if perhaps she knew Jeongguk would be here. Seems likely, knowing her.

Your lip trembles as you go to speak, unspoken words vibrating between them. There's no sound. Just the city. The cars, and the revellers from a bar a few blocks down. Jazz music echoing up the stairs to the rooftop, too.

And then there's Jeongguk's voice. Quiet. Controlled. Commanding.

"The first bird," he says. Looks down as he does so. Builds his confidence, then turns around to look at you. Is displeased to see your body facing away from him now, about to walk away - as if you hadn't instantly turned your head to look at him. "The first one. We went to the water park. Some guy looked at you in a way you didn't like, and you went straight on over and told him to stop being a perv. Remember?"

Of course you do.

But you say nothing. Do nothing. Just turn your body. Let him know you're listening. He continues.

"You know your limits, B. You know your boundaries."

You nod, now. Still stay silent.

Jeongguk's jaw grates, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. You're avoiding his confrontation, just like you've been avoiding all talks of anything serious since that day at the cafe.

And it's pissing him off.

"So why do you let him overstep them?" Jeongguk continues - and finally, this accusation gets a rise from you.

"I don't let him do anything," you scoff - and then you accuse. "You're the one I've just found hiding up on the rooftop with your ex. What about those boundaries, huh?"

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. Turns away from you. Looks out over the city, and wishes it would swallow him whole. "You've got no fuckin' idea, B. No idea."

"So then tell me!" You say, as if it's as easy as reciting your ABC's. "I'm not a mind reader-"

"And nor am I!" He says sternly, but doesn't raise his voice any higher than yours. "You've spent half the week ignoring me, only for you to barely even look at me now. You're not even wearing any glitter -"

"Why does that even matter?" You interrupt, unsure exactly of what he's trying to say.

Is the lack of glitter intentional? Yes.

Is it for the reasons he assumes? Probably not.

"'Cause we both know he fuckin' hates it," he snaps, decidedly far more pissed off now that he's speaking his thoughts into existence. "We both know you didn't wear it because of him in the past. So for you to show up with no glitter? Let him leech all over you? After he sent you all those fucking roses, and you won't fucking talk to me? Tell me what I'm supposed to think, huh?"

"Why does it even matter to you?" You fight back. It takes two to tango, and he seems to know the steps pretty fucking well. "You've been ignoring me too-"

"It matters to me because you might be fucking pregnant, B!"

Silence shatters around you both. Steals any words that could be said in the wake of such a declaration.

You roll your eyes. Do a fantastic job at pretending as if you don't feel like your world is caving in on itself.

"No, you don't get to treat me like I'm being irrational when you've been drinking cranberry juice all evening," he scathes, the frustrated gestures of his hands letting you know just how upset he is - and rightly so. "You don't get to act like you've not been thinking about it too."

"We don't even know if I'm pregnant-"

"And who's fault is that?!

"Gguk-"

"No, you're being such an asshole about this, B. This doesn't affect just you. This affects me too, okay?

Shaking his head, Jeongguk turns away from you. The way you're behaving is so unlike you, or so he thought. Maybe he didn't know you as well as he thought. Maybe he did get wrapped up in fallacies of you; in the what if.

"I fucking defended you," he says quietly. Isn't even sure if you can hear him. Doesn't care. Shakes his head and lets it dip between his disappointed shoulders. You'd be forgiven for think he was giving his next words careful thought. In all reality, he just starts ranting. "When he was at the tennis club, and was chatting shit, I defended you. Me . And yet you're more concerned with keeping up appearances for him ."

"You did what ?"

Now that he's started, Jeongguk can't stop. Not when he turns around. Not when he looks at you. Not when he starts to walk towards you.

"I insinuated we were together to get him to shut the fuck up," Jeongguk scoffs, thinking about his former self. Is embarrassed, now. Is letting his frustrations show because fuck it . He's hurting . Feels like a deer bleeding out on the side of a road, left to rot by some asshole driver who rammed straight into him at a hundred miles per hour. "So he's out here, showing up to your event, putting moves on you - even though he thinks you're with someone else - and you're fucking giving him the green light. Real fuckin' nice of him. A stand up guy. Respect must be his middle name. You really know how to pick 'em, B."

"Literally, how was I supposed to know any of that?!" You ask, eyes wide, brows furrowed. These new revelations are just as devastating as they are infuriating. All you can do is repeat a previous sentiment. "I'm not a fucking mind reader!"

But Jeongguk's irate now. Comical, almost, in how he downplays his anger.

"Oh, well, forgive me for assuming that you wouldn't bend to your exes every fucking whim!" He exclaims, a sarcastic smile on his face that snaps to a scowl within an instant. "I didn't think it was important because I thought you were beyond that point-"

"You're being cruel," you interrupt him, because he is. He knows how hard you've worked. Has been with you every step of the way - but this is how he views you?

"Me?" He laughs. It's cold.

"Yes," you say. "You."

"Nah." He shakes his head. Casts his eyes to the floor, 'cause looking at you like this only makes him feel even more frustrated with the current state of affairs. "Cruel is what Seokjin's doing right now - but you're giving him a free pass."

"I'm not. I don't want him leeching all over me," you say quietly, ashamed, turning away from him as you walk across the roof. Crouching, you bundle yourself up protectively, as if it'll make a difference. As if you can shield yourself from your friendship with Jeongguk as it comes crashing down on you both.

The only thing that makes any fucking sense to either of you right now is that you'd do it all again.

He'd ruin the friendship a million times over.

Not because he doesn't care, or because he's okay with losing you. Quite the opposite.

He'd ruin the friendship because - fuck it - that isn't what this is. The friendship flew out the window months ago. Maybe he was too late to realise it. Maybe he should have tried to claw it back in - but what use would that have been? It would have been wounded. Scratched to smithereens. Damaged.

Standing up straight, you curse at the sky. Are saddened by how few stars are out. Feels like they're shying away. Maybe they're ashamed, too.

"I have to head back," you say. Are defeated as you turn to face Jeongguk. "Tae's doing his speech, soon."

Jeongguk nods. Looks to the floor. Doesn't want you to go. Knows he hasn't exactly done anything to make it worth staying.

Both struggling with the current state of affairs, there's no one to blame. Joint bad decisions have led you here.

But he wants you close. Wants things to feel normal. Is willing to do anything.

"Look, your ex is down there being a prick," Jeongguk sighs. He waits for a moment. Lets you work out what he's gonna say in your own head. Wants to see your reaction before any of his bias comes into play. "He thinks we're together.... The best way to get him off your back?"

Your lips part ever so slightly. A crease forms between your brows, but your eyes remain kind. "Gguk..."

Shrugging, he plays off the weight of a suggestion he hasn't even vocalised yet. "He thinks we're together. Makes sense for us to act like we are."

For reasons you can't explain, the idea of other people seeing you and Jeongguk act intimately towards one another fills you with fear. It's not like it's an abhorrent thing - but to see the way your friends look at you as you present yourselves as a couple is to see their genuine reaction to it. If they're disgusted, you'll know that you're not suited. If they're elated, it will only play into these weird feelings that you've been having and are so desperately trying to avoid.

Eyes scanning him, you try and work out what he thinks of it all. If he's disgusted, you could probably live with that.

If he's elated?

Makes you feel queasy. Scared.

He holds out his hand. Knocks his head to the side. "C'mon. Face those fears of yours. Hold my hand."

It's bizarre, how Jeongguk has quite literally licked your arse, and yet this feels like the most obscene thing he's ever asked of you.

When you arrive back in the main room, Jeongguk stands behind you, ever so slightly to the side. Loops his arm around your waist. It's unintentional, the way his hand comes to rest over your stomach. Fingers splayed, he pulls your back to his chest, and you pretend like you're able to stand up straight without his support. Pretend as if the world around you isn't caving in on itself.

It wouldn't matter, even if it was. You're safe here. Safe with him.

And yet you insist on pushing him away.

"I wouldn't stand like this with a boyfriend," you say. "Too overbearing."

"Well, I would stand with a girlfriend like this," he assures you. The fingers that aren't firmly keeping your stomach protected come to your chin. Encourage it to the side. Get you looking at him. "I'd stand with her like this," he whispers, glances behind you so briefly that you almost miss it. "And when her ex boyfriend is looking in our direction - of which he is now - I'd kiss her."

"That wouldn't be very professional," you whisper.

"No," he acknowledges. "I don't suppose it would be."

He pulls away.

"I'll let you get on," he says. "The second he even so much as breathes in your direction, you come to me."

"Gguk-"

"You make your excuses and you come to me."

"I can handle it."

"Fine then," he shrugs. Begins to turn away, but makes sure to say, "I'll come to you."

And despite the deep-rooted need for you to prove yourself, there's a stranger sitting next to your determination. She goes by the name of Desire. And all she does is fucking laugh.

As Jeongguk rejoins his usual crowd, he's met with silence.

"Hmm?" He hums, reaching over for the glass Jimin is holding. Doesn't know what he's drinking. Doesn't ask. Downs it. Hands it back. "What are we talking about?"

Mouths a little ajar, neither Taehyung nor Danbi quite know what to make of what's happening, nor the foul mood that so clearly has a grip on their friend.

"Riveting," Jeongguk says sarcastically, when the silence lasts for a little too long. "No, really. Please go on."

But then, right on cue, Seokjin is heading in your direction, and Jeongguk may as well be bleeding through his tear ducts, given how red his sight is.

Bolting for you, Jeongguk almost knocks into one of the waiting staff. Spends a short moment apologising, then makes sure to interact with the people standing behind you. Has never seen them before in his life. Has no idea who they are - yet he greets them like old friends. Wants Seokjin to question his place. Wants him to think that Jeongguk is so much more important than he actually is.

And when he arrives to find Seokjin already speaking with you?

Yeah. Ain't no way he's letting him win.

Jeongguk does not give a fuck. Does not care about the opinions of anyone else. The world around him is burning red, flames that refuse to flicker out - and you crash through them like a beam of white light. A shooting star that offers the promise of something better. Something new.

Imposing in his stance, Jeongguk comes to stand beside you. Offers his hand out to Seokjin.

"Ah! Seojoon," he says, deliberately getting the wrong name, and not caring that maybe it's indicative of the fact your former fling has also been on his mind. Fine! Maybe he's obsessed with the fact other people have more of a claim on your romantic history than he does. Sue him. "We met at the golf course, remember?"

Seokjin doesn't correct Jeongguk on the incorrect name, nor the incorrect location. Knows exactly what he's doing. Shakes his hand.

"Jeongguk, yes. You had to run off pretty quick, no? Didn't get a chance to rally."

Oh, but we did, Jeongguk thinks. Knows it's a good job he didn't stick around. Would have probably thrown a racquet at Seokjin's face. Accidentally.

"Mm," Jeongguk nods. Protectively grips the nape of your neck. "Had plans. Maybe next time."

Seokjin nods. "Maybe."

The tension between the men is getting thicker.

Soon, you won't be able to breathe.

So you smile towards your ex, and say, "Excuse us."

Which only serves to piss Jeongguk off. This is your shot. Your chance to show Seokjin how little you care - and instead, you want to run away. Un-fucking-believable.

Still he smiles at Seokjin, as if he knows something that he doesn't. Wants him questioning this interaction for weeks. Regretting. Lamenting.

"See you around," Jeongguk says pleasantly, as you lead him down the hallway, your pace getting angrier with each step. He rolls his eyes. Knows you're gonna wanna fight, and thinks fuck it. Will just let it happen this time. Can't be fucked with keeping the peace.

The janitor's closet you had visited with Danbi is down this hallway, and it's where you're headed. Want privacy. Need it.

Especially 'cause Jeongguk's spouting off like a facetious twat before you're even inside. "Worst fake girlfriend I've ever had."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to pretend to be your fucking girlfriend!" You hiss quietly once you're inside, as Jeongguk knocks across the latch on the door, as if anyone else would even think to be in a janitor's closet right now.

You only know the door passcode from when you had been setting up, and even that was a lucky guess. Had just tried the code that works for another door in the gallery when Danbi had dragged you here, too.

"Well, it's not that fucking hard!" He hisses back, trying the handle just to make sure it doesn't open.

"Apparently it is!" You reply childishly.

Turning to face you, Jeongguk is obscured by the lack of light coming in through the small window on the back wall. You can barely see one another, 'cause neither of you have flicked the light on - and quite frankly, you don't want to. It's easier to fight when you can't see how delicate he looks, or how handsome his jaw is when it flexes out of frustration.

"Oh fuck off," he laughs, but it isn't humorous. "Even the caricature artist in Busan had to ask if we were a couple. We are perfectly capable of looking like one."

"I'm sure she asks everyone that!"

"Oh, piss off-"

"Fine!" You say defiantly, barging past him. If he wants you to piss off, then you will. He's the one who got you into this mess. Frankly, you don't give a shit at this point - but the door won't budge. Lock won't move. You yank on the door, as if that will help.

For all of Jeongguk's internalised frustration, he smirks, now. Folds his arm. Perches his ass on the counter by the sink.

Trying to prize the latch open, you're stupidly worried about breaking a nail - but you refuse to ask for help. Look to the side for something you can use for leverage. Can only see mops. Half think about throwing one at Jeongguk.

He doesn't interrupt your struggle. Doesn't tell you that there's a second latch towards the top of the door.

"If you don't let me out, then God help me, Jeongguk, I will scream," you threaten. "I will scream so fucking loudly that everyone hears, and then I'll let you explain why you wouldn't let me out."

Jeongguk laughs. "Go on then."

But you don't. You won't. This is somewhere you hope to work, one day. You can't risk embarrassing yourself over something as pathetic as this.

If you do, then it means Seokjin has won.

Jeongguk is many things. He's frustrating, and confusing, and yet simple and straightforward. He's an oxymoron, and on occasion, just a moron. At the crux of his identity though, is a good human. There is one thing he is not, and that is cruel.

So he stands. Sighs. Walks towards you and leans up to the latch you've neglected to touch. Puts a hand on your waist to steady himself, not that he really needs to. Pulls the lock free. Doesn't let go of your waist, but he isn't keeping you trapped. You're free to fly.

And yet you stay put, breath hitched in your throat, time standing still for a moment.

"Go," Jeongguk says quietly, his raspy voice affecting you in ways that it shouldn't be right now.

But to go would be to give him what he wants - and you absolutely do not want to do that.

Most importantly, you don't want to leave. Would gladly fight with him right now, 'cause at least you're actually talking.

"You go," you reply childishly.

"Me?" He laughs. Comes a little closer. Practically whispers in your ear. "B, you're the one who wanted to go. So, go."

"Maybe I've changed my mind."

He scoffs. "Fine."

It's a childish back and forth. One of you needs to grow up, and take control of the situation - and as Jeongguk's hand grips your waist a little tighter and spins you round, it's evident who is taking that role.

There's a dominant assertion to the way he moves you. You've seen this side of him a few times, but it never fails to take your breath away.

Hands pinned above your head all rather suddenly, a single one of his palms can keep both of your wrists suspended. It's always driven you a little wild before - but he's pissing you off. Every little thing he does will annoy you, now. Even the sexy shit.

In fact, especially the sexy shit.

The hand of his that isn't clamped around your wrists comes to the base of your throat, and you can't help but gasp a little in surprise.

His voice is deep and low as he tells you to 'say chess.'

But you shake your head. Won't do a damn thing he tells you. "No."

He grips tighter. "Tell me to stop."

"No."

"Fine then," he husks. Presses his knee between your thighs. Spreads them. Drops the hand from your throat to your hips. Get you positioned just right. Pulls you further up his thigh. Encroaches on your personal space.

"Stop acting like you don't know how to fake things." His voice is dulcet. "Your ex should be pretty used to it."

"Hardly the same thing, is it?" You hiss back, but Jeongguk laughs, and presses a kiss to the side of your ear. Then the lobe. Then beneath your ear. Down your throat. Stops only once he reaches your collarbone. Raises his eyes. Looks directly at you.

"I'm gonna make you cum," he tells you with arrogant certainty. "For real. You're not gonna fake that. Gonna make you cum, and then you're gonna hold my hand in front of your ex-boyfriend and fake that like a good girl."

The energy he's radiating is electric; the right amount of jealousy and desire making you the only thing his brain can focus on for longer than a second at a time.

"Gguk-" you gasp as he pushes your hips down. The leverage is crappy, the angle not quite right, but the intention is there.

Jeongguk glances over his shoulder, to check he wasn't imagining the chair he swore he noticed earlier, and almost thanks the God he doesn't believe in when his eyes land on it.

He turns back to face you. Lets your hands drop from above your head. Cups your jaw. Brushes his lips against yours.

"You're gonna be a good girl for me, aren't you, B?" He says, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. Doesn't it let it linger. You don't get a chance to kiss him back, for he's moving you both to the chair. He sits, legs parted, and gets you straddled across his thigh. You're right where he wants you. "You're gonna ride my thigh and cum like a good fuckin' girl."

The satin of your panties rubs against his slacks without him even trying.

Hands beneath your dress, he squeezes at the flesh of your ass, spreading you. Pulls you up his thigh. Lets you build a motion. Encourages it.

He doesn't complain when your hands tangle in his hair. It surprises you at first, just how short it is. You've never experienced it like this. It almost distracts you from what's actually happening.

But then one of his hands comes to toy with your chest as you continue to ride his thigh. The neckline makes it so fucking easy for him. He gets you exposed, but doesn't keep it that way for long. Latches onto your nipple as soon as he fucking can. Groans against you, and then the sensation of his vibrating tongue forces the wetness to seep from your cunt.

Your rhythm against his thigh is well-established, now. Both of his hands are free to tug down on the top of your dress.

It's a pretty dress. Gorgeous, in fact, and you look incredible in it - but all he wants to do is take it off. Wants you naked.

For now, he'll settle with your satin-covered cunt rubbing up against him, and your tits nice and exposed for him to toy with. He's using you for his own gratification, and you're doing just the same.

His tongue flicks against your nipples, hands squeezing your tits firmly together. He sucks. Squeezes. Grazes his teeth. Makes you feel so fucking good. Part of you thinks he'll get you cumming just from the contact of his lips with your hardened nipples - but the way his strong thigh is acting as the perfect ridge? Fuck .

"I'm close," you promise as the pleasure trickles through your bloodstream like warm honey. Sweet, and delicate, there's something about orgasms earned by Jeongguk that always makes you feel like you've ascended. Heaven really is a place on earth. Remarkably, it appears to be in a janitor's closet with all of your closest friends just down the hallway.

Jeongguk nods. Slowly pulls away from your nipples, the suction so pleasurable you can't help but whine. "I won't stop you."

He means it. Keeps your nipples wet with his spit, tongue lapping against them, as your hips buck against him. Your whines get a little deeper. Friction stronger. Breaths needier.

And then, as soon as your body begins to shudder that tell-tale way, he lets his tongue loose.

"That's it, beautiful," he husks. Looks at you with stark adorned eyes. "Come on me like the pretty slut you are. What would they think, huh? If everyone here knew what you were doing? Be louder, baby. Let them know. Let them know how much you like to cum for me."

You whimper his name as your grind begins to ease - but Jeongguk doesn't let it. Uses both of his hands. Grabs your ass. Is intentional with the way he bounces his thigh up against you, forcing the sensation to jolt through you once more. Elbows on his shoulders, head buried in the crook of his neck, you're whining as he overstimulates you.

"God, I'll cum again," you tell him, teeth grazing his neck. He kinda likes the pain. Likes that he'll be waking up with a hickie, no doubt.

"Good," he grits. Is rough with your body. Wants that second orgasm, and he wants it now.

"Gguk-" you whimper, but can't manage to say anything more, the wave of pleasure taking over you so much faster. Chest heaving, you're unable to do anything other than languidly grind until your body stops. Hearts beating in sync, Jeongguk is so overwhelmed by how good it is to feel you come undone for him, he almost doesn't notice the way you begin to palm his incredibly hard crotch.

"Shit," he hisses. This was supposed to be about you. He shouldn't be letting you do this - and yet he's reaching for his belt. Is frantic as he unbuckles. Opens up his pants. Takes over from you. Dips his hands into his underwear. Wraps his hand around his hard, leaky cock. Smears the precum from his tip all over his head. Wants it in your mouth - but has other, more pressing ideas. "Can you stand for me, baby?"

Barely. Shaky on your legs, you do your best. Let him guide you - thankfully, to the door. Back pressed against it, Jeongguk gets you to hold the skirt of your dress up. Pushes your panties down, but only just enough to expose a small amount of your cunt. They're still around the top of your thighs, slick with evidence of your orgasm.

Jeongguk lines himself up. Rests the head of his cock against the edge of your underwear. Tells you, "I'm gonna cum in them. Gonna cum in your panties, and then you're gonna wear them all fuckin' evening."

"Please," is all you pathetically whimper.

It doesn't take long for him to get there. He's been worked up all week. He wanks himself off for you. Whines. Whispers shit about how hot you are. How much he likes doing shit like this.

Jeongguk grips onto your arm as his climax hits. Body doubling, he has no choice but to let his forehead rest on your shoulder.

"I'm cumming. Fuck. Fuck," Jeongguk curses. Tilts his head. Presses a wet kiss to the base of your neck as his body jolts and the first rope of cum spurts into your underwear. "Fuck, baby."

"That's it," you encourage, obsessed with the way he's whimpering, body all weak and feeble as it shakes for you.

He groans now. Grips his cock even tighter. Milks himself for all he's worth. Fucking ruins your underwear. Lets the top of his cock rub up against your clit. Massages your slick and his cum together. "Fuck."

When he finally pulls away, he says nothing. Immediately pulls his pants up as if he can't believe what he's just done, then pulls your panties up, too. Hooks the sides over your hips, pulling the mess he's made tightly to your soaked cunt. Cups his hand over your heat. Presses. Rubs. Teases little circles over your clit. Presses down more firmly. Builds speed.

"Gguk," you whine, grabbing onto his shoulders.

"Again, baby," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Cum again for me."

"I can't," you whine, the overstimulation about to kick in - but he dismisses it. Knows that if you wanted him to stop, you'd say 'chess'.

"You can, baby," he promises. Uses the hand that isn't massaging your clit to angle your jaw. Doesn't even think as he steals a pretty little kiss from your lips. Doesn't realise it begins to send you over the edge. "You're gonna cum like you're mine."

And how can you do anything else but succumb to his demands?

Lips on his, brows furrowed together, he swallows all of your pretty little whines, as your body shudders for him. He keeps you steady. Keeps you supported. Keeps his tongue in your mouth, and his hand rubbing your panties. Doesn't ease up until you pull away from his lips.

"Gguk," you pant. "Please."

Nodding, he eases slowly. Doesn't wanna let go too quickly. Keeps kissing you. Won't stop that. Never wants to stop that. Is still annoyed with you, yes, but knows he has a duty of care, now. Also knows he'd never forgive himself if he didn't take every chance he gets to kiss you.

When he finally pulls away, forehead resting against yours, he's spent. You're both panting, both struggling to formulate any words in the wake of such a devastating orgasm.

Brushing a few strands of hair back from your face, Jeongguk closes his eyes. Nudges his nose against yours. Shows a little restraint. Whispers, "You've got a show to return to."

Nodding, you shake a little from his grip. Say nothing as you adjust your dress. Try your best to ignore the thick pool of his cum that's gathered in your panties. The tops of your thighs will end up smeared in the evidence of him, and, quite disgustingly, it only serves to make you even more turned on.

"I'll follow behind you," he promises as he begins to sort himself out, too.

Nodding, you're a little unsure of exactly what to do. You're scared that someone will know. That you'll leak.

"I'm scared," you admit. Explain your worry. He rolls his eyes, but smiles as he does, so.

He tugs on your hands, and props you up against the counter towards the back of the small room. Spreads your legs. Assesses fuckin' nothing, 'cause it's so dark in the room - but knows your pussy almost as well as he knows his own name. Licks to the left of your lips. To the right. Ends in one thick stripe up the centre. Sucks ever so gently once he reaches your clit. Knows that your cunt - your leaky, needy, hole that he loves to stretch out so much - must be going insane from the lack of attention it's getting.

"You'll be okay," he assures you. Stands, and gives your pussy a playful spank. "C'mon. You've got horny old dudes to schmooze."

"Is that gonna get you off?" you tease slightly, your annoyance with him a little subdued.

"Maybe," he shrugs, already knowing it mostly likely will. "You're gonna walk around that gallery covered in my cum, and no one else but us is gonna know it," he smirks, the gravity of what he's just done finally kicking in. Cups your jaw. Presses a kiss to your lips. Husks, "You're gonna go out there and act like you're mine - 'cause right now, you are."

You don't argue against it.

The pair of you meander down the corridor in near silence. His hand is on your back, but your arms are tentatively folded across your chest. Each step is accompanied by your keen ears checking for audible evidence of your sin.

So caught up in your own worries, you don't notice how quiet the gallery itself is. How few people seem to be milling about. How the main lights are on now, and how it only seems to be those wearing 'staff' lanyards within the main space.

Pursing his lips as he realises, Jeongguk tries not to laugh.

"Oh, shit," you whisper, pulling on his wrist so you can check the time on his watch. 10:13. The show was scheduled to finish at 10, but you're sure most people will have filtered out before then. Have no idea what the time was when Jeongguk had dragged you away from the main room.

"S'fine," he mumbles. Grips a little tighter on your waist. Doesn't let you pull away, like he fears you will now that appearances don't need to be kept up.

You don't. Instead, your arms drop from their position over your chest, and reach for his hand, guiding him the direction of the (now unmanned) cloak room.

There's little chatter as you grab your coats - the only ones left there.

"Need to show you something," you mumble, digging into your pockets, and pulling out half a dozen empty tubes.

Jeongguk looks at you with a sense of frayed confusion - but if he were to thread the strings together, he'd see the bigger picture.

Dusted in fine glitter of different colours, the tubes don't seem out of the ordinary for you. Is totally the kind of thing he'd expect to see in your pockets.

Quietly, you grit your teeth together. Suck in a little air. Are embarrassed to admit what you've done.

But the person in front of you is your best friend. Even with judgement will come acceptance. There always is. Honesty is the least you owe him.

"I know I'm not wearing any glitter," you start slowly. Hold the empty tubes up, then toss them into the bin beside the concierge table. Knock your head to the side and encourage him to start walking with you. He does.

He also reaches into his own pocket, and pulls out his car keys. Passes them over to you. "Might be above the limit. Can you drive?"

Glancing over to him, shocked by the request, you double check. "Are you sure?"

He nods. "You can crash at mine. It's fine."

Despite it all, there's still no one else he wants to end the night with. No girl he'd rather take home. Platonic or romantic.

"Sleep, I mean," he adds. "Not physically crash the car. Please don't crash my car."

You just smile. Nod. After the hideousness of the week spent barely talking to him, there's nothing you want more than to just feel like things are still normal.

"So the tubes?" he asks as you reach the car. He lets you unlock it, but adjusts the seat for you before letting you get in. Also puts his jacket down on the cushion, just in case your underwear gives up on protecting your decency.

"Thanks," you say, stroking the side of his waist tenderly as he makes way for you and waits for him to get in before you start the car up. You get onto the main road, and make sure you've got your bearings before finally explaining yourself. "It was plausible deniability. The lack of glitter, I mean. Was deliberate."

"What do you mean?" He asks, reaching for the gearstick. Doesn't care if your hand is on it. Wants to hold it. You ignore his actions. Just let him intertwine his fingers with yours.

"I mean, the less glitter on me, the less credibility Jin would have when it comes to arguing that I'm the person who's emptied half a dozen tubes of glitter into his incredibly expensive formal winter coat."

Jeongguk says nothing for a moment. Plays out the idea of you stealthily depositing millions of glitter specks into a jacket that costs more than his yearly rent. Is slow to ask, "...which pockets?"

And you're slow to reply, "... All the ones I could find. Outside, inside. Secret pocket in the lining."

And then Jeongguk is laughing. Really fucking laughing. Looks over to you, and your bunched up little face, and is overcome a sense of pride he usually only feels for these gallery shows, or when a bird of yours is completed. The kinda pride that is reserved for you, and for your accomplishments.

"Shut up," you giggle now, too. "I know it's childish but-"

"No," he shakes his head. Can't stop smiling. "It's brilliant. Dunno if you've heard, but apparently glitter is a bitch to get out."

"Yeah," you grin. "I've been told that a few times."

And suddenly the events of the evening seem to feel less burdensome. Warmer. More pleasant.

You don't bother with small talk, and nor does he. Are just happy to exist together, and this state of ease lasts right up until you're in his apartment, shoes off, standing a little awkwardly in his living room.

Jimin is out. Everyone is. There are a million messages in your group chat asking where you are. You'll just reply in the morning. Too busy, now.

"I need to shower," you say, a little timid.

Jeongguk nods. "Same."

"Join me?"

To your surprise, he hesitates.

"You're the reason I need one in the first place," you remind him. "Please."

He looks down. Shakes his head. "I don't trust us."

"Nor do I," you tell him. "But this whole thing has been hell on earth, Gguk. I've hated it."

"Me too."

"I don't think..." you sigh. Don't want to share your conclusion, but know you need to. "I don't think careless fucking around is worth it. It's definitely not worth losing you."

"So what are you saying?"

Gesturing towards yourself, you grimace a little. "I'm saying we sort out the current... mess. Get showered. Whatever. Head to the pharmacy in the morning for the emergency pill, just in case - and then a few days from now, I'll take an actual test. Just wanna make sure my system is settled, first. And then, providing it all goes well, we sort ourselves out. Stop fucking around."

Jeongguk says nothing. Just sort of looks at you as if you've just hung up a new star in the sky, or something absurd like that. Nods. "Alright."

You're well aware that you shouldn't look at Jeongguk in the way that you do; that you shouldn't stand in his living room, and let the dress that you've been hoping would keep him focused on you all night drop to the floor.

He's well aware that he shouldn't look at you in the way that he does; like you're some kind of star to wish upon.

And yet you both do. He wishes. You grant his wishes.

There's a mess to clean up in the morning. Jeongguk can't shake the look on the faces of his friends from his mind. Knows that you need to cover your tracks.

But for now, he doesn't care.

Your dress is on the floor, and his heart is yours.

Though he'll always define you as his best friend, he knows that the way he wants you goes beyond the scope of that. Knows that there's no going back.

"Byeol," he whispers.

"Koo," you whisper right back.

He smiles. Shakes his head. "I love it when you call me that."

You nod. smile, too. "I love the way you smile when I call you that."

He's right not to trust the pair of you together. Right to assume that a shower is a bad decision. Right to think that the second he has you naked, he won't care about the consequences.

Quite frankly, he couldn't give a fuck. Skin on skin, he indulges in you. The way you feel, the way you sound. Pretends like it's normal, holding your waist as he peppers kisses up your neck. Tells himself it's not unusual for friends to let their hands roam. It's all about trust. Mutual adoration. Desire. Want. Careful carelessness.

You don't kiss him, at least. Not in the shower.

No, you don't kiss him... until you're in his sheets.

Neither of you got dressed after the shower. Went to bed naked with the promise of sleep - and yet somehow you're straddled across his lap at two in the morning, hips slowly grinding to get the feeling of fullness you love so much from Jeongguk.

"After this-" you husk into his lips, but he breaks your sentence with yet another kiss. You don't mind. "After this, we've gotta start taking shit carefully."

He nods. "Mhmm. Whatever you say."

"Gguk-"

"Byeol, please," he smiles. "I'm literally inside you. Can you at least wait until we're done to give me ultimatums?"

Laughing, you cup his jaw. Kiss him again, just because you want to. Because you can. "Yeah. My bad."

Sitting back up, Jeongguk watches on in a state of adoration as your body moves for him. So often the one to take the lead, he's letting you have control, now. Letting you ride him. Letting himself succumb to everything you are.

"Shit," he whines, back arching, head pressing into his pillows. Fingers gripping your hips, he thrashes his own upwards. Thrusts up into you like a man possessed. Gets your body all weak and feeble from the overwhelming pleasure he's delivering - and when your hand dips to toy with your clit? Oh, it doubles. Trebles.

"You're so fucking hot," he tells you. "Yeah. Play with yourself for me. That's it, baby."

Panting, you tap on his chest with your spare hand. "Hips. Slow."

He does what he's told even if he absolutely doesn't want to. Let you bounce slowly. Reaches up to hold one of your tits as you do so. Wants them in his mouth. Finds himself grinning when he thinks of how much he's changed since you first started fucking around together.

"God, I fuckin' love this," he whines a little mindlessly. Doesn't bother clarifying what 'this' is.

The hand of yours that's wrapped around his wrist begins to tighten. Nails dig in. Tiny pretty whines of satisfaction escape your lips. Eyes close. Speed of the hand rubbing circles on your clit increases. Sitting on his cock, he's keeping you stretched. Full. Lets you do whatever the fuck you like, 'cause he knows you're working your way up. Loves to watch it more than anything. Gets himself off sometimes thinking about it.

Leaning forward a little, you reach for his phone. Slide it open to his camera.

He narrows his eyes. "Whatcha doing there?"

Whiney as you manage to speak, Jeongguk thinks you must be a direct descendant of Aphrodite. "Giving you permission," you hum, passing his phone back to him, already recording.

He looks to the screen, a little red button in the middle and a time running through on the top. Raises his brow. "Sure?"

You're putting on a show for him, yes, but none of it is faked. This is as real as it gets.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he husks as he can feel your walls tighten. "Like that. Like that. Fuck ." Pulses his hips ever so slightly. Sneaks his hand to join yours. Takes over. "Cum all over my cock, baby. Yeah. Yeah, that's it, babe."

"Gguk, I'm so close."

"I know," he coos. "Let yourself. I'm here."

"You're so big," you tell him, just so he has evidence of it. Know it will do his ego wonders. "Makes me feel so good."

"Show me how good it feels. Cum for me. Please. I need this. Need you ."

And when you finally do?

Oh, it's glorious.

"There she is," Jeongguk praises. Doesn't bother to stop recording. Tosses his phone to the side. Pulls you in for a million kisses. "God, you're so pretty when you cum. So fuckin' pretty."

His hips continue to gently rock, his orgasm far less violent than yours. You only really know it's happening cause he grunts. Gets a little breathless. Hugs around your back as his legs begin to shake, and eventually he manages to shakily whisper, "it's yours. All yours."

You just assume he means his cock, or cum, or something vulgar like that - and while it would be correct, it's not what he means. Not at all.

He holds you as you sleep that night. Has no interest in pretending like he wants to be less than what you are right now.

But come the morning, you're cracking jokes together like you've never nearly made declarations you'd never be able to take back. Hang out, as if he wouldn't rather eat you out. Make a to-do list. Laugh, as it's titled 'Fixing the Star-Fuckers Fuck-Up'.

You make a trip out of the list. Go to a pharmacy a few towns over. Grab a drive-thru Maccies breakfast. Get absolutely slated when you order a Shanghai Snack Wrap instead of a classic egg McMuffin.

"Can't believe we're friends," Jeongguk says, disgusted by the fact you're choosing to have something from the all-day menu. "Can't believe we fuck ."

"Fucked," you remind him, and remember that you've a pill you need to take. Pop it out of the foil, and swallow it down with a chug of Jeongguk's drink. "Past tense."

"Yeah, sorry," Jeongguk grins. It's easier to pretend like the idea of not fucking doesn't phase him. "My bad."

His pretty grin swiftly disappears three days later as he paces around your apartment living room, waiting on the result from a little pink stick that's sitting on top of your toilet. You're in the living room, too. Don't wanna check it. Nor does he.

So you play rock paper scissors.

Jeongguk loses.

And as you nervously await your fate, all you hear from your bathroom is a single word.

"Fuck."