#my motivation comes at the strangest times

[dovewingkinnie]

dont mind me as i proceed to animate these two several times

[mizuthe-cat]

fuck you I draw when I want (it is 4 in the morning)

[muniimyg]

♡ 05: i bet we'd have really good—

series m.list // taglist

note: wowie,, thank u for 1.5k and for being so patient 💛 i’m so happy to be ending this mini fic and to have been interacting with u all :) my apologies if this ch sucks LOL i'm so sick rn but i'm tired of rewriting n writing... so enj !!! it's been so fun and i can't wait for more fics to come in 2025 !!! kisses my kitties😽💓

⏱️ this part goes thru time skips!

💭 which bed chem jk moment was ur fave?

warnings: tension/slow burn (friends first yk),, mean!jk trying to figure out how to be nicer to oc,, jk calls oc baby and kitty !!! teasing/dry humping (bc jk has glasses on. jk plays with her titties/nipples & jk cums thru his sweatpants),, jealousy (v teeny tiny),, virginity talk/actual sex; oc loses her virginity to jk (jk eats her out/fingers her, ass slapping, dirty talk, rawdogging,, missionary, doggy, blowjob/headpushing & face cumshot)

//

it’s been a week since jungkook kissed you, and he has made it your problem.

truth be told, he has made a game of this—hovering without hovering… just close enough to test the line. whatever way he plays, jungkook is always shameless in the most subtle and maddening ways.

sometimes his hand brushes yours as you walk, light and fleeting… and it’s impossible not to notice the way his fingers twitch. it’s like he’s debating whether to grab it or not.

you don’t make it any easier on yourself, either.

there’s this suffocating tension between you two and some days are better than others… like today.

“why are you so quiet?” you ask, glancing at him over your shoulder.

he tilts his head, feigning confusion. 

“why? does the silence make your heart race?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes, and that’s when he strikes—his foot nudging yours mid-step. it’s just enough to throw you off balance, making you stumble slightly, your bag slipping again.

“jungkook!”

he’s already reaching out, catching the strap before it can fall. 

“careful,” he says, his voice all mock concern, but the way his lips twitch gives him away.

you glare at him, yanking your bag out of his grip. 

“you’re the one who tripped me.”

“prove it."

"seriously?"

"if you can't prove it... you have to kiss me. you know, as compensation for accusing me so unjustly." he says, wide-eyed and innocent, though the corners of his mouth are curling into a smirk.

it’s infuriating, but it’s also... not. 

not when he’s looking at you like that, like he knows exactly how to get under your skin and is thoroughly enjoying it.

“do friends kiss?” you narrow your gaze at him. “do friends trip each other over? do friends—“

“do friends wait for each other?” jungkook leans towards you. “mhmm? do friends have ulterior motives—”

“you have ulterior motives?”

“oh, absolutely.”

friendship. 

it’s odd to say the least—the way you and jungkook have fallen into this friendship. that’s what you’ve both agreed on. 

friends. 

but the lines are blurry. 

so blurry they might as well not exist at all… because what kind of friends kiss on the cheek as casually as saying hello? what kind of friends text each other goodnight every single evening, or linger too long in conversations that could end with a simple goodbye?

the rules of your agreement feel more like suggestions—ones jungkook seems intent on bending just enough to keep you guessing. and you let him, which might be the strangest part of all.

… because deep down, you know this isn’t just friendship. not with the way he looks at you, his gaze lingering a second too long, or the way his touch always feels like a question he’s waiting for you to answer.

but maybe that’s the thing about blurry lines—they give you just enough room to pretend you don’t already know where you’re headed.

yet, even with all his teasing, there’s a hesitancy to him sometimes—a split-second pause when your hands brush, a quiet shift in his expression when he catches you looking at him. it’s like he’s still figuring out how to balance whatever this is between you, testing the waters but not wanting to dive in too fast.

and honestly?

you feel the same.

it’s why you let him get away with stuff like this. why you don’t pull away when his hand accidentally-on-purpose brushes yours for the third time in as many minutes. why you don’t tell him to stop following you to your study spot or showing up outside your class with some excuse about “just being in the area.”

because the truth is, you like having him around. 

you like the way he keeps you on your toes… even if it’s by trying to trip you up, only to catch you before you fall.

and maybe—just maybe—you like the way his smile softens sometimes when he thinks you’re not looking.

tonight, the group decides on a night out.

the street food spot everyone agreed on is already buzzing when you get there, the warm glow of string lights crisscrossing above the narrow alleyways, casting soft shadows on the busy stalls below. the air is alive with the scent of sizzling tteokbokki and freshly steamed hotteok, mingling with bursts of laughter and the occasional pop of oil from a nearby grill.

you arrive late as usual. 

by the time you weave your way through the crowd, the others have scattered, splitting up to hunt down whatever caught their eye. 

that’s when you spot him.

jungkook leans lazily against a lamppost near the edge of the main street, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding a stick of half-eaten odeng. the glow from the lights above reflects faintly in his dark eyes, making them look warmer than usual, though his expression stays comfortably neutral—like he’s been waiting.

but he doesn’t mind.

“you’re late,” he says as you approach, not even bothering to straighten up. his voice is low, unbothered, but there’s something teasing in the way his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk.

“i’m literally 5 minutes late.”

“still late.”

jungkook takes one last bite of the fish cake before tossing the stick into a nearby bin. he steps closer, casual but deliberate, and before you can come up with a snappy reply, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

it’s smooth—too smooth.

it’s like he’s been doing it forever.

you barely have time to register the warmth blooming in your chest before he’s grabbing your hands, shoving them unceremoniously into the front pocket of his hoodie along with his own.

“jungkook—”

“your hands looked cold,” he says simply, his tone light, like this is the most natural thing in the world.

his fingers shift slightly, brushing against yours, and though his expression stays neutral, you catch the subtle curve of his mouth—the smug kind he tries to hide but never quite manages.

you roll your eyes, more out of habit than anything else, and let out a sigh...

but you don’t pull away.

“i have gloves.”

“they're ugly."

you glare at him.

"... and you have me."

the air stills.

“what?” he asks, his shoulder bumping yours as he starts walking, steering you toward the first row of stalls.

“nothing.”

but the corner of your mouth twitches. you try to hold back your smile.

he catches it, of course. 

his grin widens, soft and slow.

jungkook nudges you again, this time with more intention. you can feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric, steady and sure, even as the cold night air bites at your skin.

you can't help but give in. a laugh escapes your lips as you nudge him back. jungkook laughs too, but pulls you close at the very last second.

he breathes you in.

the first stall serves fresh tteokbokki, steaming and spicy. the scent alone makes your stomach growl, but jungkook is already a step ahead, paying for the food before you can reach for your wallet.

“you didn’t have to do that,” you say, trying to grab a pair of chopsticks from the tray.

he beats you to it, of course, picking up a piece of tteokbokki with the kind of exaggerated precision that makes you squint at him. then, he places the chopsticks in between your fingers.

“feed me," he says.

“absolutely not."

he steps closer. 

“okay, fine. i’ll feed you—”

you shove the tteok in his mouth. 

he chews, chuckling and enjoying your choice. 

“you’re so annoying,” you tell him as he swallows.

“really? am i?”

“really. you are."

jungkook shrugs. 

then, he takes the chopsticks and picks up a tteok, and feeds you. he watches closely as you chew, his wide eyes fixed on your face in a way that makes you feel exposed.

“how annoying?”

in between chews, you fixate on his smirk. as he leans into level with you, you almost choke at how his nose nearly brushed yours. you can feel the weight of his gaze, daring you to say something.

“jungkook…” you warn, your voice flat, but your hands betray you. they reach up to cup his cheeks, and though your intention is to shove him back, you don’t.

instead, your thumbs press lightly against the soft skin of his jaw as you squint at him.

“what’s this smile?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “what are you so excited over, bestie?”

his expression flickers for a second, his brows twitching in annoyance at the word. you know he hates it when you call him that. bestie? who are you even talking to?

“your lips look cold. can i warm them up for you?” he asks suddenly, his voice dropping low enough to send shivers down your spine.

you scoff, warmth creeping up your neck. “nice try—”

“no, no, i insist,” he interrupts, tilting his head slightly, pretending to think it over. “don't want you to be all cold and shit.”

“jungkook.” your tone is sharp, but it’s laced with amusement, and he knows it.

“what?” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his lips curving into a smirk. “you said you want to take things slow. i’ll kiss you real slow—”

your jaw drops. 

“you’re impossible.”

he stands back up with a grin, his hands still in the pocket of his hoodie, keeping yours snugly tucked inside. he rocks back on his heels, clearly pleased with himself. 

“let’s not pretend we don’t know what we know.”

“i don’t know much,” you retort, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “i’m not a nerd—”

“yah! hurry up!” taehyung’s voice booms from a stall across the street, breaking the moment. you glance over to find him waving dramatically, his other arm slung around yoongi, who looks less than thrilled. 

“we found the mandu!” taehyung adds.

“mandu sounds good,” jungkook says as he gives your hands a small squeeze. then, he gently pulls you toward the others. "let's go." 

“stop dragging me around,” you complain, though you don’t actually try to pull away.

“you’re walking too slow.”

but you aren’t. 

you know you aren’t and so does he… but you let him hold your hand anyway.

a week later, jungkook feels like he might piss himself.

he leans against the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone for the 5th time in as many minutes. his thumb hovers over the screen, debating whether to check his messages again, even though he knows there’s no point. 

you haven’t replied yet.

the fundraiser for marine conservation is tonight, and he’s been pretending it’s no big deal... but fuck.

he was so nervous when he asked you to go with him and now he feels like all his efforts are being wasted.

...

“so, uh,” he starts, his voice a little too casual, “there’s this fundraiser gala thing on friday night. save the dolphins thing—a-and… it’s no big deal but—”

you glance at him, eyebrows raised. 

“yeah? sounds fancy.”

he shrugs, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “i guess it is. it’s a black-tie kind of event… and i, uh… i was thinking... maybe you’d want to come with me?”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden invite. 

“i hate dolphins.”

“i know.”

you sigh, pretending to be burdened by his request. “but i’ll go. if you want me to.”

“i do want you to.”

“okay.”

“good,” he breathes, glancing over with a lopsided grin that he hopes hides how nervous he actually feels. “you’ll make me look good. people are suckers for pretty dates.”

“oh, so you’re using me as a prop?” you tease, though your lips twitch into a smirk.

“obviously,” he replies smoothly, though his grip on the wheel tightens slightly. “but, hey, it’s a dinner, you get to see my in a tux which is practically dessert—.”

you shake your head, laughing softly. 

“you’re ridiculous.”

“so ridiculous that this can count as our first date?” he presses, glancing over again, this time with a flicker of uncertainty he hopes you don’t catch.

after a beat, you sigh dramatically, turning in your seat to face him. 

“it’s a date.”

just as he’s about to make another comment, you lean over and press a quick kiss to his cheek, catching him completely off guard. his hands freeze on the wheel for half a second before he recovers.

“you missed—”

you laugh and hit his chest. then, he gets out of the car, helps you out, and walks you to your doorstep. 

...

now, as he sits alone in his room, the anticipation bubbling just under his skin, his phone buzzes on the counter. his heart skips for a moment before he grabs it, only to feel it sink as he reads your message.

yn [4:31PM]: nurse said it’s food poisoning  yn [4:32PM]: she gave me some meds to help but i literally feel like shit  yn [4:33PM]: i don’t think i’ll be able to make it tonight, baby :( i’m so sorry nerd [4:34PM]: don’t apologize. i’ll be over in a bit yn [4:35PM]: what ?? no !! get ready for your event. it’s important nerd [4:35PM]: so are u yn [4:36PM]: i’ll survive. go save the dolphins :p

his brows knit together as he reads it again, leaning back into the couch with a frustrated sigh.

he knows he shouldn’t feel disappointed—you can’t control being sick, and it’s not like this event means anything special. 

at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself.

still, he stares at the message for a long moment, debating whether to reply right away or wait a few minutes so he doesn’t seem too eager. his fingers hover over the keyboard before he finally types out a response, keeping it short and light, like he’s unbothered.

nerd [4:40PM]: get some rest. i’ll be telling everyone you ditched me tho  yn [4:41PM]: be sure to let the dolphins know too 🙂

he lets out a chuckle, but the weight in his chest doesn’t go away. 

he tosses his phone onto the coffee table and rakes a hand through his hair, wondering why the idea of showing up without you feels so much worse than he’d expected.

then, his phone buzzes with messages from the fundraiser committee. 

yet, he can only think of you… it’s a sinking feeling in his chest. 

you’re sick. 

the thought of going to that event while you’re home feeling miserable doesn’t sit right with him.

he sighs, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over his head. he knows this is unprofessional and such an pussy excuse but—forget the event. 

it’s you that matters to him the most right now. 

so, jungkook calls his event and lets them know that something came up. he tosses aside his tux and puts on comfier clothes before heading to the kitchen to make you some chicken noodle soup.

before he heads out, jungkook hears a familiar groan from the living room. he turns, already annoyed, knowing exactly who it is.

jimin and taehyung are stretched out on the couch, looking like they’ve been hit by a truck. 

their faces are pale, eyes glassy with fever, and they groan as they shift under the blanket. it’s obvious they’re just as sick as you, if not worse.

“yo, jungkook,” taehyung calls out, voice nasally, “did you make soup? be a good boy and give us some—” 

jimin, equally pitiful, sits up a little and gives jungkook a pleading look. “yeah, we’re starving, man. plus, you’re not gonna leave us to die alone, right?”

jungkook raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“you won’t die from starvation.”

“how are you so sure?”

“cos i’ll kill you first,” jungkook snorts. “you guys got my girl sick with that stupid omelet you made her.”

the two of them groan in response, sitting up slowly. taehyung rubs his face with his hand. “we didn’t mean to! bro, look at us. you think we wanted this? we’re sick, too, you know.”

“yeah,” jimin adds, “there’s two friends sick here for you to take care of.”

jungkook just looks at them, his gaze hard. 

“who do you think i’m gonna choose right now?”

jimin squints, looking him up and down. “don’t you have that gala tonight?”

jungkook hesitates for a split second, but quickly shakes his head, giving them a dismissive wave. 

“it got canceled.” he lies. 

then, he turns away to head out the door. before he leaves he yells; “i’ll text yoongi hyung to make you some soup. don’t bother me. not coming home tonight.”

about 25 minutes later, jungkook stands in front of your doorway and his gaze falls on you as you open the door.

you're wearing his oversized t-shirt, hair up in a messy bun, and a pair of shorts—looking exhausted and a little pale. his stomach churns with worry, but he keeps his cool as always.

"what are you doing here? the gala..." you trail off, but before he can answer, you quickly turn and rush to the bathroom.

"shit," he mutters under his breath, following you at a steady pace.

when he enters the bathroom, you're already kneeling over the toilet, retching. his heart drops, but he doesn’t flinch. moving to your side, he gently pats your back.

“it was this bad?” he grumbles, a frown pulling at his lips. “why were you downplaying it through text?”

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, barely acknowledging him.

“i’m fine, seriously. just... just a little nausea.”

“fuck, ___..” he snaps, but his voice isn’t angry, more like exasperated. "this is stupid. you can’t be alone if you can’t even handle standing up to get the door without throwing up. are you fucking serious?." his eyes are narrowing now, the concern clear despite his snappy tone. “what the hell, ___?"

you sit back on the floor, leaning against the wall, your face pale. 

“i already bailed on the date. i couldn’t let you bail on the gala entirely.”

he shoots you a look, incredulous. 

“you think I’d rather be at a gala without you? honestly?”

“i just—"

“shut up,” he interrupts, his voice softer but firm. "you need someone. i’m here. deal with it."

there’s no room for argument in his voice.

you give him a tired smile despite the situation, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“you shouldn’t be here, though.”

“say that again.”

your lips tighten.

then, you gag and rush back to the toilet bowl. jungkook remains by your side, rubbing your back as you deal with another wave of nausea.

the moment is quiet except for the soft sounds of you breathing in between. for a second, it almost feels like everything has stopped, like it’s just the two of you in your small bathroom, nothing else in the world mattering.

after 40 minutes of hovering over the toilet, jungkook gets you settled on the couch.

he brings you water and asks if you’re down for some food. he brought over chicken noodle soup and you need to have something in your stomach before taking your medicine. you simply agree and wait for him to serve you. 

as you eat the soup, he scrolls through netflix and plays something. he talks for most of it and it helps distract you from feeling the full extent of your sickness. after you’ve eaten some of the soup he brought, you ask him to grab the medicine from your bag. 

“can you grab the other medicine bottle from my bag? the one the nurse gave me?”

jungkook, of course, doesn’t hesitate. 

he gets up and finds your bag in your bedroom. he pulls open your bag and begins rummaging through it, looking for the bottle. when his hand brushes against something thick and solid, he pulls out a book titled, “everything you need to know about dolphins a to z.”

his eyebrows furrow for a second as he stares down at it.

he doesn’t know why, but a strange warmth spreads through him. it’s pretty obvious why you have this book—but seeing it in your bag... it makes him pause.

his lips tighten slightly as he puts the book back down in your bag, quickly hiding his reaction. he doesn’t want you to see how much it’s affecting him right now.

when he returns with the medicine, his expression’s back to its usual, nonchalant self. as much as jungkook wants to pretend like he didn’t see it or that seeing it didn’t matter—he can’t. 

to him, it mattered. 

it mattered a lot.

a few days later, you’re sitting across from jungkook in the library. 

the late afternoon sun streaming through the tall windows and casting a golden glow over the table. textbooks and notebooks are scattered between you, his handwriting messier than yours but still oddly charming. you’re mid-sentence, asking him about his opinion on a the newest theory you learned during your lecture when he suddenly tugs off his crewneck, revealing the black t-shirt clinging to his frame underneath.

it’s warm in the library, the kind of cozy heat that sneaks up on you, and he doesn’t think twice about it. 

but you do.

“woah—” you blurt out, your question forgotten as your gaze catches on his arms. you've seen his tattoos before but for some reason... they look different to you now.

they appeal different to you.

jungkook looks up from his notes, brows raised.

“what?”

you blink, trying to refocus, but your eyes betray you, flickering back to the ink winding its way down his arm. 

“your tattoos,” you say, almost dazed. “they’re... really hot.”

“think so?”

“yeah,” you admit. “gets me horny. ”

you then feel the warmth crawl up your neck as the words leave your mouth. you quickly look back down at your notes, hoping the earth might just swallow you whole.

jungkook freezes for a moment, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink. then he shakes his head, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. it’s not his usual confident grin—it’s softer, like he’s caught off guard but not in a bad way.

he doesn’t say anything, just ducks his head slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching like he’s trying to hold back a laugh.

you try to ignore the way he shifts in his seat, casually stretching his arms behind his head like he’s showing off—not that he’d ever admit it...

for the next two weeks, jungkook suddenly seems allergic to long sleeves. 

he starts showing up in short-sleeved t-shirts, rolling his sleeves higher than necessary when he wears his uniform jacket, and leaning in just a little closer when he knows your gaze will drift.

“you’re shameless,” you mumble one day, catching him flexing—not subtly—while reaching for a book on the top shelf.

“what?” he asks innocently, glancing down at you with those wide eyes that don’t match the smirk tugging at his lips.

you roll your eyes, biting back a grin.

“you’re annoying.”

“why? are you horny?” he says, his voice low enough to make you want to shove him.

you don’t answer, but the way you avoid his gaze—and the small smile tugging at your lips—says enough. he notices, of course, because he always does.

after a few moments of silence, you huff at him.

"is everything you say always so... dirty?"

he shrugs.

"you brought up being horny first..."

"yeah, but—"

"you think i'm dirty?" jungkook interrupts you. "should i shower?"

you scoff at him. before you can say anything, he adds;

"you’d join me though, right?"

a month later, jungkook does it again. 

you find yourself standing in the middle of your apartment—he shows up.

your phone is clutched tightly in your hand as you try to blink away the tears threatening to spill. the call you just had—a frustrating, heart-wrenching argument with your family—leaves you feeling raw and small. the weight of their words presses heavily on your chest, and all you can do is stare blankly at the mess of papers scattered on your desk.

a sharp knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts. you freeze, wiping at your cheeks hastily, but the door creaks open before you can say anything.

"is that my hoodie?"

"jungkook—"

“you haven't been answering my texts all day,” jungkook says, stepping in without waiting for an invitation. he’s holding a bag of takeout.

"everything okay?"

“i’m fine,” you say, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to sound convincing.

he narrows his eyes at you, placing the takeout and hoodie on your coffee table before crossing his arms.

“yeah, no.”

you try to argue, but he’s already moving, shrugging off his jacket and plopping onto the couch like he owns the place.

“whatever it is, you don’t have to talk about it right now,” he says, pulling out containers of food. “but you do have to eat. and i’m not leaving until you do.”

your throat tightens at his matter-of-fact tone, his presence somehow both comforting and overwhelming. he doesn’t pry, doesn’t demand to know what happened.

“you didn’t have to come,” you murmur, sinking onto the couch beside him.

“yeah, i did,” he replies, handing you a pair of chopsticks. “and don’t even think about pretending you’re not hungry.”

a small, shaky laugh escapes you, the tension in your chest loosening just a little.

“you’re so annoying.”

“friends are supposed to annoy each other. learned that shit from you.”

jungkook’s door swings open with a suddenness that startles him. 

the faint squeak of the hinges cuts through the quiet. he’s mid-motion, towel slung around his neck, tugging a loose white shirt over his head when you stroll in without so much as a knock. he’s also wearing grey sweatpants… 

wet hair, white shirt, and grey sweats? 

the holy trinity.

“you know,” he begins to scold you. “boundaries exist for a reason.”

he shakes his damp hair as you plop onto his bed like it’s yours.

“boundaries?” you scoff, grabbing your plushie. your precious hello kitty plushie. “this is practically my second home.”

he doesn’t argue, just lets out a quiet chuckle as he pulls the hem of his shirt down. 

holding up the plushie like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. “can i take her home today?”

“sure,” jungkook says, his voice carrying that infuriating mix of teasing confidence and barely veiled challenge. he leans against his desk, arms crossed, watching with a smirk as you clutch the hello kitty plushie tightly to your chest, as if it’s your only lifeline against his charm. 

“can i be your boyfriend today?”

you groan, throwing yourself back onto his bed with a dramatic sigh, the plushie landing on your face. 

“seriously? you’re really holding this poor plushie hostage?”

he laughs, low and amused, pushing off the desk and taking a few steps closer. 

“a deal’s a deal,” he says lightly, but there’s a glint in his eyes as he towers over you. “you can take her home—when you’re my girl.”

you yank the plushie off your face, sitting up sharply. 

“do you think we’re better friends?” you huff, your tone indignant but your heart racing under the weight of his gaze. 

jungkook crouches slightly, leaning in until his face is just a few inches from yours. his smirk softens into something more playful, but the shift in proximity makes your stomach flip. 

“i think so…” he murmurs, his eyes flickering between your face and the plushie pressed against your chest. “aside from me trying to kiss you every chance i get and you being horny every time you see my tattoos—”

you narrow your eyes at him, holding the plushie tighter, as if it’s a shield against the way he’s looking at you. 

“you’re unbelievable.”

“and yet,” he starts, his voice dropping an octave as he moves even closer, one hand bracing on the bed beside your knee, the other reaching out to gently brush his fingers over the plushie’s soft fabric. “here you are.”

his free hand slides around your waist, tugging you just slightly toward him, and your breath hitches. “but if you don’t want her…” he teases, his voice trailing off as his face inches closer to yours. his gaze dips briefly to your lips, and before you can fully process it, he’s leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

except you shove hello kitty between you two just in time.

“nope!” you say quickly, holding the plushie up like a barrier, your cheeks flaming as you hear him laugh, the sound vibrating through the air between you.

“seriously?” he says, pulling back just enough to raise an eyebrow, though his grin never falters. his hand stays firm at your waist, his thumb brushing the fabric of your shirt in slow, lazy circles. “you’re really using her to block me?”

“you started it,” you shoot back, glaring at him even as your grip on the plushie tightens.

“fair,” he admits with a chuckle, straightening up slightly but keeping his hold on you. his other hand moves to tap the plushie’s head. “but the deal still stands. not my girlfriend, not your hello kitty.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

he tilts his head, his grin softening, though his hand still lingers at your waist, his warmth impossible to ignore. 

“i don’t know,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost coaxing. “sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

you glare at him again, this time with less heat, and shove the plushie into his chest.

“you’re insufferable.”

he laughs, taking the plushie from your hands but not letting you go.

“maybe,” he says, “but you’re still here.”

hours later, the room is quiet except for the soft scratch of jungkook’s pen against paper and the occasional shuffle of his chair as he shifts at his desk. you’re curled up on his bed, the hello kitty plushie still clutched against your chest, your breaths slow and steady as sleep overtakes you.

he glances back at you every now and then, a small, unspoken fondness softening his features. when you stir, rubbing your eyes and sitting up, he turns back to his notes, feigning nonchalance.

you pad over to him, your steps muffled against the carpet. without a word, you slip onto his lap, one arm draping lazily over his shoulders as you pluck his glasses from his face.

“good nap?” he asks, his voice a mix of amusement and exasperation as you slide the frames onto your own nose. “those—”

squinting dramatically, you nag him; “ugh, how do you even function with these? everything’s blurry.”

“that’s because they’re prescription, genius,” he says, reaching for them, but you lean back, keeping them out of his reach.

“maybe i’ll keep these,” you tease, poking at the side of his head. “you can’t study without them, can you?”

“give them back, or i’m kicking you off my lap,” he warns, though his hands settle firmly on your waist instead of following through on his threat.

“yeah, sure... because you hate this so much.”

“try me,” he challenges, his grip tightening just slightly as if to prove his point.

“you’re so bossy,” you grumble, sliding the glasses off and placing them haphazardly on his desk. “happy now?”

“ecstatic,” he says dryly, though his lips twitch upward.

you lean closer, your face just inches from his, your playful smirk softening into something quieter, more genuine. 

“you know, you’re really cute when you’re all serious, studious, and grumpy.”

“and you’re kind of annoying when you don’t let me finish studying,” he shoots back, though there’s no real bite to his words.

“fine, fine,” you say, preparing to climb off his lap with exaggerated dramatics. “go be a nerd. i’ll be over there cuddling hello kitty—”

“i could use a 5 minute break.”

you fix your posture, perking up. 

“really?” you tilt your head at him. “i mean… i’d hate to distract you.”

“really?” he mocks you. “you’re sitting on my lap and moving your hips and yet—you’d hate to distract me, huh?”

you nod innocently. then, you shrug and confess;

“i’m bored.”

“what do you want me to do about that? this final is really important—f-fuck. ___, don’t move like that.”

you shift again. 

“like what?”

“you know what you’re—”

“what am i doing?” you ask, leaning your body closer to his. you caress his face and pout at him. “is 5 minutes even considered a break? don’t you need more time?”

“more time for what?” jungkook lowers his gaze at you. 

“i don’t know,” you giggle. “what do you wanna do?”

jungkook can’t take it. 

playing cat and dog or whatever this bullshit is. 

you’re on top of him, prettier than ever. you’re wearing a low-cut tank top with a fucking bow in the middle… and he can’t breathe anything in except you. what is he supposed to do right now? 

“___… if you don’t get off me—”

“if i don’t get off you… what?”

you smile at him softly. shifting again, you drag your hips towards him. his eyes widen. 

“i might cum.”

you pout. “really?”

jungkook swallows. 

“keep moving your hips like that and you’ll find out soon.”

“oh…”

a beat. 

“like this?”

before he knows it, you’re humping him. 

he grunts as he feels himself harden under you. you bite your bottom lip as you drag your hips back and forth. you feel the pressure against your clit as your clothes rub together. 

jungkook hisses at your pace. 

“f-fuck..”

as he bucks his lips, he places his hands on your waist, helping your movement. you let out a few breathy moans and jungkook feels like he could die. 

you’re so pretty. 

his hands tighten around you when he senses that you’re close. 

“am i doing this right? it feels—feels g-good.”

“yeah? feels good, baby?” jungkook breathes.

“mhmm…”

“do you feel my dick?” he asks. “feel how hard it is against your fucking pussy?”

“i do,” you moan. “so big, jungkook. can i take it soon?”

he hisses. 

“promise me,” you whine. “promise me that you’ll fuck me soon.”

jungkook’s breath hitches. 

he was wrong. 

that time he ran his mouth about your virginity being too much or a burden or something—fuck was he wrong. 

it’s not a burden.

it’s the greatest privilege he could ever be given… now to have you like this? begging like that? holy shit is he more than ready to give you anything and everything you want. 

“promise, baby,” he says. “promise it’s gonna be me.”

you nod, happy with his answer. 

and just as you’re about to continue, you take his hands to your tits. first, he squeezes them… then you guide them to the strap of your tank top. taking the cue, jungkook tugs your straps down, revealing your bare tits. 

“___…” he moans. “shit.”

you bring his hands to your tits again, helping him cup them. as you hump him with more intensity, jungkook’s mouth parts. your tits bounce up and down and it sends shivers down his spine. your tits are so full in his hands and so fucking perfect up close. he loves all of it—the shape, the size, the way it feels… so soft. he’s always been an ass type of guy but holy shit—your tits are a game changer for him. 

nevertheless, he tries to focuses on you. 

“bouncy.”

“yeah?” you pant. “you like them?”

jungkook nods pathetically. 

he fights shutting his eyes. he wants to remember all of this. every detail. 

how hard he is right now. how hard your nipples are and how they feel being played in between his fingers. he runs his thumb around them, pressing, squeezing, and tugging… he loves how your moans sound—like they’re music to his ears… he can’t… he can’t picture anything else. he can’t hear anything else. he can’t breathe anything in but you.

“jungkook…” you cry, feeling yourself about to climax.

“s-shit,” he hisses as you begin to whimper. 

the humping is great. 

amazing in fact—but the way you’re whimpering right now? 

fuck.

“jungkook,” you breathe, trying to catch your breath. “a-are you close? mhmmm… f-fuck!” 

you hump him faster and harder. he lets out a few moans before sharply inhaling—

“o-ohh,” jungkook moans. “nghhhh… fuck.”

you grind on him slowly, easing his release. his crotch area is wet, making an obvious stain on his grey sweatpants.

he throws his head back. you lean over and kiss his neck. he bites his lip, attempting to hide his smile. 

a silence fills the room. 

you two are in total disbelief. 

then, you shift and he places his hands on your waist again. 

“did you cum?” 

he lets out a chuckle. “yeah. did you?”

“i think so? i don’t know.”

“sorry,” he sighs, a little disappointed you didn’t get to finish. “do you wanna—”

“it’s fine that i didn’t come. i had fun…”

jungkook shakes his head. “no, it’s okay. i can—”

“can i see?”

jungkook blinks at you. 

“what?”

“you came right?”

“yeah—”

“can i see what your cum looks like?”

some days with jungkook are so easy, it’s almost laughable.

the dynamic feels less like a friendship and more like a game you’re both playing—teasing, flirting, seeing how far you can push before one of you finally gives in.

but then there are days like this.

it’s been 3 month and a half since the kiss, and the comfort between you has grown in a way that makes everything feel light, almost effortless. you’re more yourself around him, and he’s let down his walls in ways you didn’t even realize were there. 

still, sometimes, you push his buttons just a little too hard.

today is one of those days.

it starts with a series of texts.

your usual banter that, for whatever reason, strikes a nerve.

maybe he’s stressed, or maybe you’re just too good at knowing exactly how to get under his skin. either way, it doesn’t take long before his responses turn clipped, each word laced with an irritation you’re not used to seeing from him.

yn [1:41PM]: C₄₃H₆₆N₁₂O₁₂S₂ nerd [1:48PM]: 😳 yn [1:50PM]: am i speaking ur language  nerd [1:53PM]: fluently, yes yn [1:54PM]: cool. dohwan taught me it  yn [1:55PM]: what does it mean nerd [1:59PM]: not funny. yn [2:00PM]: why am i laughing then seen yn [2:01PM]: aw don’t get all mad nerd [2:08PM]: not mad. jus uninterested in this topic. yn [2:10PM]: i’m sorry seen yn [2:14PM]: sorry :(  yn [2:15PM]: jungkook !!! yn [2:16PM]: wanna make out? typing… nerd [2:21PM]: yes

you don’t mean for it to escalate, but by the time you realize he’s genuinely annoyed, it’s too late to fix it over text. you bite your lip, staring at your phone, debating your next move.

and then, because you’re you, you grab your bag and head straight for his lab.

jungkook’s reputation precedes him on campus.

professors practically gloat about having him in their classes, like his achievements are trophies they get to display. it isn’t just his grades or his research—it’s the way he carries himself. sure, he's a little antisocial but he's focused, driven, and somehow still effortlessly cool.

you always knew he was smart, but seeing him in his element, tucked away in the chemistry lab during his solo hours, is something else entirely.

the lab is a world of its own.

notes scrawled in sharp, precise handwriting cover the workspace, surrounded by neatly labeled vials, bubbling solutions, and meticulous arrangements of equipment.

jungkook stands at the center of it all, wearing a crisp lab coat with the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the ink decorating his forearms. protective goggles perch on his nose, and his brows furrow as he scribbles something into a notebook. he’s intimidatingly focused, and for a moment, you hesitate in the doorway.

he notices the movement immediately, his sharp eyes snapping up to meet yours. for a beat, his expression doesn’t change, and your stomach churns with nerves under his scrutinizing gaze.

“what are you doing here?”

“i, uh…” you shift awkwardly, trying to find your footing under his intense stare. “i wanted to check on you. you seemed upset earlier.”

jungkook exhales, a hand dragging through his dark hair, slightly disheveling the strands sticking out under the goggles. his posture stiffens slightly before he stands straighter, folding his arms across his chest. 

“i’m fine,” he says, the words clipped and automatic, like he’s said them a hundred times before.

he doesn’t look at you again after that, instead turning back to the dense notebook in front of him. his pen taps against the edge of the table, a sharp, rhythmic sound that fills the silence between you.

you glance around, taking in the scrawled notes and bubbling glassware, and suddenly, you feel like an intruder.

this isn’t just a workspace; it’s his domain, and you’re a trespasser.

“right,” you whisper. “sorry. i just—”

your words catch as his head snaps up again, this time really looking at you. his dark eyes flick to the way you stand there, hands shoved deep into your jacket pockets, shoulders hunched slightly, and chewing the inside of your cheek.

the tension in his jaw softens, and he exhales again, but this time, it’s quieter, almost resigned. his shoulders relax as he sets the pen down, giving you his full attention now.

“do you want a tour?” he asks, his voice losing some of its earlier sharpness.

you blink at him, caught off guard. 

“really?”

he shrugs, a small, almost reluctant smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“yeah. just… don’t touch anything.”

you hesitate, unsure if this is a genuine offer or just him humoring you. but the way his gaze lingers—softer now, like he’s extending an olive branch—makes you take a small step forward.

“you’re sure?” you ask cautiously, your weight shifting between your feet.

“wouldn’t have offered if i wasn’t,” he says, already turning to gather a few items from the cluttered table.

his words are casual, but there’s something unspoken in the way he says them. it’s as if he’s acknowledging your effort without outright saying it, inviting you into a space you know he doesn’t share lightly.

“okay,” you say softly, stepping closer as he gestures to the setup in front of him.

jungkook guides you through the lab, his hand casually finding its way to the small of your back as he gestures to the next setup. the touch is subtle but grounding, the heat of his palm against your waist sending a quick flutter of awareness through you. his fingers rest there, steady, as he moves you along with a quiet confidence, his focus more on the equipment than the way your heart picks up its pace.

“this is my catalytic synthesis project,” he starts, motioning to the crowded workspace. his tone is calmer now, almost instructional as if falling into the rhythm of explaining makes it easier to let his guard down.

as he starts detailing his work, his body language shifts. his shoulders loosen, and the furrow in his brow disappears as he picks up a flask of pale yellow liquid. his hand moves with precise confidence, holding it up to the light as if to showcase his work.

“what does that even mean?” you ask, leaning in closer to inspect the array of equipment.

“it’s about creating biodiesel,” he explains, holding up a sheet of paper covered in equations and diagrams. “basically, i’m optimizing the reaction process to make it more efficient. fewer byproducts, higher yield.”

you blink, squinting at the equations like they might magically make sense. 

“that’s cool… i think. but how do you even do that?”

he chuckles, the sound low and surprisingly soft. 

“this,” he says, holding the flask again. “this is the feedstock. it’s like the base oil we start with. i mix it with methanol and a catalyst—”

“wait,” you interrupt, raising a hand. “what’s a catalyst?”

his lips twitch into a small grin, clearly amused by your cluelessness. 

“a catalyst is a substance that speeds up a chemical reaction without being consumed in the process.”

you nod as if you understand, but the tilt of your head gives you away.

jungkook sets the flask down and leans a hip against the table, crossing his arms loosely. “okay, think of it like this. imagine you’re cooking something. the catalyst is like the pan—it doesn’t get eaten, but it helps everything cook faster.”

“ohhh,” you say, the metaphor finally clicking. “why didn’t you just say that from the start?”

he raises an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “because i thought you were smart enough to keep up.”

“wow,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. “i come here to check on you, and this is the thanks i get?”

he shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping him as he nudges your shoulder lightly with his. “first of all, you annoyed me. second of all, you’re the one who wanted a tour. i’m just giving you the full experience.”

“oh, sorry—” you let out a shallow laugh. “should i leave then—”

jungkook shakes his head and points to another setup—a small beaker bubbling over a hot plate. 

“look! this is the reaction in progress. that bubbling? that’s the methanol reacting with the oil. and over there,” he gestures to a series of tubes and a larger flask, “that’s where i separate the biodiesel from the glycerol. basically, the good stuff from the leftovers.”

you narrow your eyes at the apparatus. “this still sounds like you’re making moonshine.”

jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “i’m not making moonshine.”

“sure,” you mutter, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “that’s what someone making moonshine would say.”

he rolls his eyes, but the faint smile pulling at his lips betrays him. 

“you’re really annoying today.”

“you like me, though,” you shoot back, leaning against the table with newfound confidence.

jungkook pauses, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long. his lips part, and you catch a flicker of something in his expression—something softer, almost vulnerable.

“yeah,” he says quietly, almost under his breath, before turning back to his work. “i guess i do.”

as you lean over a neighboring table to inspect a beaker filled with an ominous-looking solution, your elbow bumps against it, sending it teetering dangerously close to the edge. the moment stretches out, everything moving in slow motion.

his words catch you off guard.

what did he just say?

holy—

“shit!” you yelp, reaching out instinctively to steady it. but before you can, the beaker tips over completely, the sulfuric acid inside spilling onto the floor—and dangerously close to your feet.

jungkook moves faster than you expect, his hand darting out to grab your arm as he yanks you backward with enough force to make you stumble into his chest. the acid splashes onto his hand as it hits the ground, and the sharp crack of shattering glass fills the room.

he flinches, a quiet hiss slipping through his teeth as he pulls his hand back.

“oh my god, jungkook!” you gasp, panic knotting your stomach. his hand lingers briefly on your arm before he steps away, already moving toward the nearest sink.

“stay there,” he orders, his voice clipped but steady, as he flips on the cold water and thrusts his hand under the stream.

your eyes are locked on his injured hand, where faint discoloration is already starting to show.

“are you okay? does it hurt?” you ask, your voice shaky.

“it’s fine,” he says tightly, jaw clenched as the water rushes over his skin. “are you okay? nothing got on you, right?”

you take a step closer, your gaze flicking between his face and his hand. he looks calm—too calm—but the way his lips press into a thin line tells you otherwise.

“no. nothing got on me… jungkook,” you say softly, guilt and worry twisting in your chest. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—”

“don’t,” he cuts you off, shaking his head as he grabs a paper towel to dry his hand. his voice isn’t harsh, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s holding something back. “this is why i don’t give tours.”

you wince, the weight of his words making you shrink slightly. “i—i’ll make it up to you,” you blurt, your voice desperate to fix this. “whatever you want.”

he glances at you then, finally letting out a soft, exasperated laugh. his expression softens, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smirk. 

“you’re giving me that much power?”

“jungkook,” you warn, narrowing your eyes, but your voice wavers. you’re still too focused on his hand, your own tightening into fists at your sides. “this is serious. do you want to go to nurse or hospital or something—”

“relax baby,” he says, his tone lighter now as he flexes his fingers experimentally. “it’s not that bad. really. it was just sulfuric acid.”

“acid—”

“stop,” jungkook sighs. “seriously. it’s okay.”

“you shouldn’t have done that though,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

he shakes his head, smiling faintly—half amused, half surprised by your concern. 

“what, and let you burn yourself instead?”

a beat.

"i'm dating a klutz," he chuckles, the words slipping out so naturally it takes you both a second to realize what he’s just said. his eyes widen slightly, but instead of backpedaling, "guess i should get used to you fucking my shit up, right?"

your chest tightens.

dating?

jungkook clears his throat. 

“don't over think it," jungkook grumbles.

"jungkook—"

he doesn’t let you finish, his jaw tightening.

“___, what are you doing here if you don’t think we’re dating?”

“what does that even mean?” you fire back, crossing your arms defensively. “you can’t just say shit like that and expect me not to overthink it.”

“then maybe don’t think so much,” he mutters under his breath. "you're good at that anyway."

“don’t think?!” you huff incredulously, stepping closer. “jungkook, you’re impossible.”

he glares at you, setting down the equipment with a loud clink. “and you’re confusing. ___, you’re acting like—”

“acting like what?”

“like you don’t want this.”

the tension doesn’t ease as you both leave the lab. 

he grabs his bag, muttering something about not wanting to talk here, and before you can argue, he’s already halfway down the corridor. you jog to keep up with his long strides, half-annoyed, half-confused, as he leads you across campus.

the walk is silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the faint chatter of students in the distance. his jaw is tight, his shoulders stiff, and you can tell he’s barely holding himself together.

“jungkook...” you try, your voice softer this time, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even glance back.

by the time you reach his place, your confusion has morphed into frustration. 

he unlocks the door without a word, stepping inside and leaving it open for you to follow.

you hesitate for a moment, then step in, the familiar scent of his space wrapping around you. before you can say anything, he drops his bag on the floor and turns to you, his expression unreadable.

“sit,” he orders, pointing to his bed.

your brows knit together.

“i’m not a dog,” you snap, but the weight in his tone makes you obey anyway. you sit at the edge of his bed, crossing your arms and glaring up at him.

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his already messy hair. his pacing starts then, a restless back-and-forth motion across the small room. the air feels heavy, thick with unspoken words and the lingering tension from earlier.

“okay,” he starts, his voice low and strained. “let’s just… get this out in the open.”

you raise a brow, waiting for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. instead, he keeps pacing, his hand dragging down his face as if he’s trying to physically pull the words out of himself.

“get what out in the open?” you prod, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “jungkook, what’s your deal? one second you’re fine, and the next—”

“fine?” he cuts you off, his tone sharper now. he stops pacing to face you, his hands planted on his hips. “you think i’m fine?”

you blink, taken aback.

“well, no, obviously not. but you’re also not making any sense—”

“you want to talk about making sense?” he scoffs, a bitter laugh escaping him. “you’re the one who’s impossible, you know that? one minute you’re here, acting like we’re—like this is something, and the next you’re…”

“the next i’m what?” you challenge, standing now. “go ahead, say it.”

jungkook looks at your sternly. then, he gives you his heart.

“i can’t keep doing this, ___. i need to know—are you in or are you out? because i get the whole wanting to make me miserable part. i get it. i’ve been awful to you. i’ve put words in your mouth and i’ve said shit that i can’t take back… but i’m trying. it feels like you aren’t.”

the weight of his words crashes over you, leaving you rooted in place. you want to respond, to say something, but the lump in your throat won’t budge.

he steps closer, his eyes searching yours.

“just… tell me what you want. because if you don’t want me, i need to know now.”

the silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating. you feel his gaze burning into you, his desperation palpable.

“i don’t know how to have you,” you say, your voice breaking slightly.

his shoulders drop, and for the first time since this started, he looks less angry and more… hurt.

“what do you mean?” he asks, his tone gentler now.

“i don’t know,” you breathe. “i’ve never… gone this far. guys give up after the chase… you’re… you’re still here. what happens now? sex?”

he shrugs. "is that all you want?"

"no."

"then no."

silence.

“___, i'm here. i've come this far and i want to go further. sex or not—whatever,” he says, taking another step closer, his hand reaching out to lightly brush against your arm. “is that what scares you?”

you nod.

“am i… am i supposed to just—” your chest tightens, and the room feels too small, too charged. his words hang in the air, and you know there’s no going back after this. “i don’t know—”

“why are you here, ___?”

“you asked me that already.” you retort.

“yeah, and you didn’t answer,” he shoots back.

you sigh, exasperated. “i’m here because—i don’t know… you’re my friend, okay? or whatever.”

his laugh is sharp and humorless. “friend. right.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means i don’t want to be your friend,” he says plainly, his eyes burning into yours. “i haven’t wanted that for a while now.”

your breath catches. “jungkook—”

he steps closer, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you. but he stops just short, his voice low and rough. 

“i want you to stop pretending like there’s nothing here. i want you to stop running every time i get close.”

you open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat.

“again, if you don’t want this—me—then tell me,” he continues, his voice softening. “but don’t keep showing up, acting like i don’t drive you as crazy as you drive me. don’t… please, don’t make me feel stupid.”

the room feels too small, the air too thick.

jungkook’s hand lingers on your arm, his touch grounding even as your heart races wildly. his dark eyes search yours, flickering with emotions you can’t fully decipher—hurt, hope, frustration.

“you don’t have to know everything right now,” he says softly, his voice carrying a steadiness that contrasts with the storm raging between you. “i’m not asking for perfect, ___. i’m not even asking for easy. i just…” he exhales shakily, the vulnerability in his tone cutting through your defenses. “i just need to know you’re willing to try.”

your throat tightens, his words hitting you in a place you’ve tried so hard to ignore. the thought of trying—of letting yourself fall completely, with no safety net—terrifies you. but the thought of him walking away? it’s unbearable.

“i want you,” you whisper, the fear laced in your voice so raw it feels like you’ve just exposed every guarded corner of yourself. “i want you, jungkook.”

his fingers trail down your arm, stopping just above your wrist. 

“say it again,” he says, his tone almost exasperated, but not unkind. “please?”

you bite your lip, the weight of his words pressing down on you. everything about this moment feels pivotal, like a single word could either shatter or rebuild everything between you.

“i want you, jungkook,” you admit, your voice trembling but resolute. “i… i want us.”

his expression softens, relief washing over his features like a tidal wave.

“good,” he murmurs, stepping closer, so close that his scent—clean, familiar, entirely jungkook—invades your senses. then, his hands come up, gently cradling your face as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.

“i… i want us too. i think it’s all i ever really wanted. to be yours…”

his thumbs stroke your cheeks, and before you can overthink it, he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. the tension in the room shifts, softening but no less charged.

“does this mean i get to take hello kitty home today?” you whisper, your voice barely audible. 

“is that all you really care about?” he says, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. 

“i care about other things.”

“like what?”

“like you.”

and then he kisses you.

you and jungkook have been dating for 6 months when you suddenly say; "happy 6 months, baby! wanna have sex?"

jungkook practically jolts out of his bed and takes the plushie. he places it on his desk and turns hello kitty over to face the wall. (no, you haven't taken it home. for some reason, it suits being in jungkook's room more than yours).

you laugh as he turns back to you and says;

"good timing, ___. i'm ovulating."

jungkook can't breathe.

… and you? you never expected it to feel this way. 

the thrill of it… the intensity—the intimacy. 

as jungkook towers over you, he pulls his shirt over his head. the minute his chest is bare, your hands find your way to roam around his body. his abs, his biceps, and down his—

“wait,” jungkook pleads, eyes hungrily looking into yours. “wanna take this slow with you. wanna do it right for you.”

you nod slowly, understanding what he means. 

the truth is; your virginity is your virginity.

there isn’t much to it aside from that the fact that it’s not taken. you were never wronged but you were also never pursued right… sure, it’s special… but it isn’t everything. 

jungkook treats it like it is though. 

you don’t mind. 

for the past 6 months, he's been really careful with how he acts around you sexually. sure, a few pussy eating moments and heated make outs have been happening... but not the full thing. actually, you've never really seen jungkook's dick yet.

he refuses to let you give him a blowjob.

said something about how easy it is for him to cum at the thought of you—he isn't ready to embarrass himself in front of you just yet.

but today, at your 6 month mark, it's different.

jungkook can't hold it in anymore and you showed up extra pretty. you planned this, didn't you?

(yes.)

gently, he helps you undress.

he takes your shirt off for you and takes a deep breath when you arch your back for him to unclasp your bra. nervously, he does so. then, he tosses your bra aside and takes in the view. 

the prettiest fucking tits he’s ever seen. 

jungkook reaches, cupping and squeezing your boobs. you watch him as he does so, unsure of what to do. 

he then lowers himself, placing kisses over your tits and down your stomach. positioning himself more comfortably, he finds himself in between your legs. lifting them up, he takes your pants off… then, his eyes flicker from you to your panties. 

his fingers play with the hem of your panties. then, he scrunches them together, tugging them up so your folds are exposed. 

“fuck,” jungkook groans. “so pretty…”

“yeah?” 

“yeah,” he breathes, watching your pussy begin to swell. “think your kitty can be good for me? think you can be patient? that’s it… good kitty.”

you tilt your chin down to look at him. 

he’s licking his lips, lowering himself down to your pussy. 

“be a good kitty, okay?” he says, as he begins to massage your pussy with his hands. your panties are still on so the friction of the fabric make you a little annoyed. 

aren’t you having sex soon?

shoudn’t this shit be off be now?

“jungkook—”

“i know, baby,” jungkook pouts at you. “i know it’s hard to wait… look at your pussy… so wet and your panties aren’t even off.”

“i get more wet than this?”

“if i play my cards right, yeah.”

you whimper. “please, jungkook… just.. take them off.”

“you want me to?”

“yes,” you huff. “want you to take my panties off.”

he nods slowly… as if he’s thinking about something—considering something.

then, he decides to give in. 

jungkook tugs your panties down entirely, leaving your pussy out in the open. he throws his head back in admiration. it’s like he’s been hit by cupid or something.

without warning, he buries his face inside. 

jungkook begins with a couple licks and spreading your folds a part. his tongue brushes against your clit—up, down, side to side—everywhere. god, you feel him everywhere. after a few licking and sucking moments, he pulls away and rubs his thumb against your clit. he spits on your pussy—letting his saliva drool down slowly. 

you watch. 

“you like that, baby? you like when i spit in your pussy?”

tongue-tied, you nod obediently. 

he grins before giving in again. 

jungkook eats you up, devouring every inch of your pussy. before you know it, he’s shoving a finger inside you as he sucks on your clit. you almost yelp at the sensation—a feeling completely new to you. 

“ohhh… yeah… f-feels so good, jungkook…” you moan, throwing your head back. 

honestly, the added finger burns. 

but he’s gentle with it. he moves his finger inside you with lots of intentions. he gradually shoves it in deeper and deeper too.. it just… it feels good. 

so good. 

you throw your head back and grab a fist full of his hair. 

“uh, uhhhh… mhmfffph—” you moan. “ohhh…. f-fuck…”

jungkook looks up and watches the way your lips twitch. how your body reacts to him eating you out… and it all just boosts his ego. 

he’s so glad to be here. 

jungkook then pulls away, taking his tongue out of the equation. he focuses on fingering you, making sure you’re enjoying the way it feels. you two catch each others gaze and continue to look into each others eyes. 

as jungkook picks up the pace fingering you, you bite your lip and love the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration. 

“f-fuck,” you utter. “i’m gonna—o-ohhh!”

you cum on his fingers. 

jungkook pulls them out, taking your cum and spreading it around your folds. he massages it in like lube before taking his fingers to his mouth. 

he tastes you. 

then, before you can catch your breath, jungkook leans down and kisses you. 

he kisses you deeply. 

when he pulls away, you ask; “c-can we…”

jungkook chuckles. 

“soon,” he assures you, tucking your hair behind your ear. he presses his lips against your cheek. 

then, his lips find yours with a hesitance that feels almost reverent, like he’s afraid to ruin something sacred. and then, slowly, he deepens the kiss—tentative at first, but with a growing confidence that feels utterly jungkook.

it’s the kind of kiss that feels like discovery. like he’s studying every angle, every curve, every reaction, cataloging them in his mind like a scholar with his favorite subject. his hands hold you as if you���re delicate but unshakable all at once, his thumbs brushing tenderly against your jawline.

when he tilts his head, changing the angle, it’s with a deliberate slowness, as though he’s savoring the moment, pulling apart the layers of this kiss to commit it to memory. you can feel the way his lips curve faintly against yours, like he’s smiling, like he’s finding joy in every second of this new experiment.

and you realize—he’s not just kissing you. 

he’s learning you.

nerd.

you gasp when he pulls you closer, your arms instinctively wrapping around his body. his lips part slightly, and the way he kisses you now feels like a question, like he’s asking for something without saying a word.

he’s meticulous, like he wants to explore every inch of you through this kiss, leaving no detail untouched. the way he holds you is tender but firm, grounding you while setting your pulse on fire.

when he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. his eyes flutter open, and they’re soft, full of something you can’t quite name but feel all the same.

“i want you forever,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with awe, as though he’s just unraveled the world’s most beautiful equation. 

you giggle at him. “great. can we start now?”

“way to kill the mood—”

“please, for the love of god!” you squirm. “fuck me already.”

jungkook can’t help but laugh. 

but he gives in. 

jungkook shifts out of his pants, revealing his hard cock. 

you stare at it.

it's pretty.

it's thick all around and his tip looks like it's angry. you like the way it looks though... looks delicious. his cock has you completely mesmerized. you almost want to crawl to it but he saves you the journey as he brings it close to you. 

truth be told, jungkook's a little nervous.. he doesn't want to fuck this up.

“you know…” he begins, as he jerks himself off in front of you. “i want to be mean. like, really fucking mean. i want to make you beg. i want to make you choke on my fucking cock and have you scream my name but—fuck, ___… i look at you and i can’t…. i can’t even do all i want with our fucking foreplay because i fold so easily when it comes to you. you want me to fuck you? fine. i’ll fuck you.”

“be mean,” you whimper. “come on. don’t be a pussy. just because this is my first time—f-fuck! holy shit, jungkook—”

jungkook has slowly puts his cock inside you. 

you gasp for air. 

he caresses your face as you adjust to him being inside you. then, he drags his tongue around your neck. he sucks on it a bit, causing you to grip the sheets.

“o-oh my… j-jungkook…”

“you okay, baby?” he asks, slightly moving himself in deeper. 

you take a deep breath and exhale from your mouth. “f-fuck…”

he’s so big. 

you can feel every curve of his dick and vein. when his tip entered, it felt funny. like, uncomfortable but also really fucking good. as he begins to thrust in and out, you breathe through the sharpness of his movement. 

“hurts…” you confess. 

jungkook shifts, and kisses your neck. against your skin, he murmurs; “i’m sorry, baby… do you want me to—”

“no,” you tell him, as you open your legs wider. you wrap yourself around him and hold on tight. “think… think i’m okay. can you move more?”

jungkook nods and kisses you once more. 

he begins to fuck you.

slowly but surely… he begins to drill himself into you. 

missionary isn’t his favourite but having you this way… especially for your first time? god, did he love this. as you dig your nails into his back, you whimper every time he thrusts back inside you. 

“f-fuck,” you moan. “jungkook… it’s…”

“what?” he almost panics. “a-are you okay?”

“yeah,” you breathe. “it feels good now… can you… go harder?”

jungkook hisses, feeling like he could lose his mind. 

“can we switch position?” he pitches.

you agree.

jungkook then pulls out of you, and you suddenly feel the emptiness. he goes on his knees and takes you by your waist, guiding you to turn over and go on all fours. 

doggy. 

jungkook helps you position yourself before angling himself. he licks his hand and spreads your entrance. he then guides his dick inside you. as he begins to thrust, you suddenly feel him reach around and start to rub your clit…

and oh my god. 

does it feel heavenly. 

“oh,” you hum. “feels so good.”

jungkook leans over, and kisses your shoulder. as he pulls away, he takes his other hand and grabs a fistfull of your hair. he pulls your hair back and you moan at the tightness. 

“you like that, my little bitch?” he grunts as he fucks you. 

he feels your pussy clench. then, he smriks. 

“oh? you like being called a little bitch, huh?” jungkook then takes his hand off your clit and uses it to slap your ass. "my fucking cockslut. always so fucking horny but you're just a little dirty minded virgin, right? not anymore, okay? i'm taking it. taking all your sticky fucking cum. you're all mine, baby. you know that, right? you're mine, bitch."

smack. 

your pussy tightens around his cock again. 

smack. 

you moan his name. 

“jungkook…”

he inshales shaprly and moves both hands and grabs your waist. he pulls you into him with each trust, adding more intensity. 

jungkook fucks you harder and harder and you can’t help but love the way it feels. you moan his name, whimpering pleads like; “please… please, fuck me harder.” you can’t help it… it’s the way that his hard cock feels inside you that make you say shit like that. it’s the way that his hands roam around your body and you feel him everywhere… because he is everywhere. 

his mind goes dizzy. 

he goes blank actually. 

then, when you reach back and wrap your arms around the back of your thighs—jungkook feels like he might lose it. 

how do you know how to move like that?

god, you’re so hot. 

“mhmm. that’s it…. fucking me so good, nerd.”

then, jungkook loses it. 

like… really. 

he fucks you harder and harder until you’re whimpering his name and almost near tears. he doesn’t realize how hard he’s fucking you until you’re near climax—

“i’m cumming!” you cry. “baby, i’m gonna—ahh, a-ahhh! fuck..”

it happens so fast. 

suddenly, you cum and you lose your balance. 

jungkook helps you lay down properly. he gets on top, continuing to fuck you in missionary. he fucks you through your orgasm. as you catch your breath, you feel him hiss against your skin. 

“fuck.”

just then, jungkook pulls out. 

as he jerks himself off, you tug on his hand and pout at him. he tilts his head, a little confused but quickly catches on. 

“cum right on me?”

(i mean, camaraderie)

a few seconds later, jungkook straddles your face. 

he places his dick inside you mouth and you focus on licking the tip of his dick. you do it softly, not adding much pressure. it sends shivers down his spine… then, you use the topside of oyur tongue to add more stimulation. you dig your face deep, licking his balls a little. 

he moans. 

you suck him off—slow but so fucking intense. 

jungkook can’t take it.

he places one hand on the back of your head and helps control how deep you take him. 

his dick reaches the back of your throat and it’s fucking toe-curling for jungkook. you take him in so good. as you suck him off, he can’t help but not last long. 

“ahh–aahhhh.. f-fuck—” jungkook moans deeply. “nghhh.... fuck, ___! holy fucking shit...”

jungkook pulls out seconds later and cums all over your face.

as his cum drips down your face, you catch it with your finger and look at it. 

“ohh,” you pant. “that’s what cum looks like…”

jungkook rolls his eyes at you before dipping his head low and kissing you. you two laugh as you pull away, completely in disbelief of everything that had just happened.

1 month later...

“you’re such a bad boyfriend,” you say, crossing your arms dramatically as you sit on the couch, watching jungkook fiddle with the back of your laptop.

he pauses, turning his head slowly to look at you over his shoulder. his glasses are sliding down his nose, his hair is a bit messy from pushing it back so many times, and he looks entirely unimpressed.

“bad boyfriend?” he repeats, sounding genuinely offended. “you asked me to fix your laptop. i'm a chem major, not tech.”

“smart boyfriends are supposed to be well rounded."

he glares at you. "again. you asked me to fix your laptop. i'm doing my best, baby."

"yeah, but like... i asked you over an hour ago,” you tease, leaning back and pretending to sigh. “you’ve been ignoring me ever since.”

“ignoring you?” he scoffs, turning back to the tangled mess of wires. “i’m literally upgrading your RAM so you can stop complaining about how slow it is. if anything, i’m the best boyfriend.”

you hum thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “debatable. the best boyfriend wouldn’t make me sit here in silence while he nerds out over motherboards or whatever.”

“okay, first of all,” he says, setting the screwdriver down and turning to you fully now, “it’s not ‘whatever.’ this is your motherboard’s lifeline. without it, you don’t get to binge your little dramas.”

“so you’re saying you’re not doing this for me—you’re doing it for the laptop?”

“i’m doing it so you don’t keep stealing my ipad to ‘watch just one more episode’ and kill my battery in two hours,” he fires back, but there’s a little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips now.

you tilt your head, grinning. “i think you just proved my point.”

“fine,” he says, pulling his glasses off and tossing them onto the table. “what do i have to do to reclaim my best boyfriend title, huh? flowers? chocolates? fixing this annoying laptop isn’t enough?”

“hmm,” you pretend to think. “i’d say… maybe you stop being a nerd for five minutes and come cuddle me instead.”

he rolls his eyes but moves toward you anyway, tugging you into his lap without hesitation.

“there,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as you snuggle into his chest. “am i forgiven, or do i need to sit in front of a claw machine and lose $200 again?”

“hmm,” you hum, grinning as you tap your chin. “hello kitty does look a little lonely. but maybe she deserves a friend when you really screw up.”

“you’re planning for that?” he asks, incredulous.

“not planning,” you tease, shrugging. “just preparing. i’ve already picked cinnamon roll for when you really drop the ball.”

he stares at you for a long moment, narrowing his eyes. “you know, this feels like extortion. i bet you mess with me on purpose just to stock up on plushies.”

“maybe,” you say sweetly, poking his cheek. “but you can’t prove it.”

he sighs, leaning his head back against the couch dramatically.

“great. i’m dating a scam artist.”

“you’re dating a genius,” you correct, grinning.

“genius or not,” he counters, tightening his hold on you, “you’re stuck with me.”

you tilt your head up to look at him, biting back a laugh at the slight pout on his lips.

“wow, jungkook, that’s so nerdy of you.”

he groans, letting his head fall against your shoulder.

“i’m never fixing your laptop again. let me know when you need help naming all the isomers of butanol—"

"baby, did you hear that?"

"hear what?"

"you put the dolphins to sleep. good job! yay, your marine conservation bullshit finally came in handy—"

"wanna break up?"

"meanie."

"you're mean."

"sure, let's break up," you tell him. "how about never?"

"never?" jungkook asks, tucking your hair behind your ears. "sounds good."

you glance at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

"it's you, me, and the fucking dolphins forever, nerd."

[cherry-pop-elf]

My Roommate Is A Wiz With Animals

Newt x Muggle!Reader

SUM: You were returning home from work, when you stumbled across the strangest little animal. You couldn’t just abandon them. Even tho they are kinda funky. Animals deserve love and shelter, and that seems to win you quite the lost and found reward

Warnings: So much dang fluff, animal smuggling, Teddy shenanigans, Newt accidentally being really good at manipulation, reader is naive enough for plot purposes, MIGHT be a multi part series. Might…..Ok it will be shoosh

“Ugh I swear those shifts are getting longer and longer.” You would groan with your neck rolling around. Just trying to get your joints stretched. Was rather late in the evening. You had to cover for someone. Curse you for actually being a good human and helping someone out! Eh over time is over time at least.

You were still a bit nervous to head home so late. The sun was setting, and it casted the New York sky scrapers were casting such eerie shadows across the world. There was a beauty in it, but also it’s terrifying. Terrifying to be out late in the city night.

Had you picking up the pace.

As you tried to hurry home, before the street lights kicked on, you would hear the trash cans banging together. Made your heart stop, as you instinctively turned to look at the noise.

Didn’t seem like a person at least, so that gave you some calm. Still, could be a wild dog. Not that you hated dogs or anything, but street dogs are built to survive the streets for a reason.

You couldn’t help but stare, and wait, to see what would come out. Maybe it’s a kitten? A puppy? Ok now that you were cycling through the concept of a poor lost animal in the streets of the city that never sleeps had your heart ache.

Call you dumb, but you went to peak.

Was met with quite a surprise.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were looking at. It was some weird looking platypus mixed with a mole. Maybe it’s a sister species to platypi? It’s not unheard of that the rich and powerful have exotic animals. That there’s a black market for them. Maybe this poor baby escaped.

“You poor thing. New York and scraps isn’t meant for you.” You would Cooe at it, as the little creature looked up at you. Looking scared honestly. Would even reach its little arms out to you. How that made your heart explode from the utter cuteness.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Come here baby.” You would lift up the strange creature, and opened your jacket to tuck them closer to your chest. Help them warm up from the cold streets.

They would snuggle into your chest, as they felt a little safer. Grabbed at your top even. Didn’t want to end up back to the streets again. Like hell you would.

With a baby to take care of you made your quick walk into a proper jog. A rather good motivation to help you speed up on your way home. You had a tiny little thing to care for. One that needed a bath and some food. Shit, what would it eat? Maybe you’ll leave a variety of foods out and whatever they go for first could be what they like? You’ll worry about it later. Now was to get home.

Into the apartment complex you went, up the elevator, and you were home. Made sure all your locks on your door were clicked, and you would soon drop your things off.

“You poor thing. Let’s get you cleaned up, and feed you. How’s that sound?” You swore they were nodding at you. Seeming to comprehend what you were telling them very well. Maybe it’s an exotic pet thing? Or you are tired. Probably tired.

Into the bathroom you went. You ran a warm bath for them, and kept it shallow. Didn’t quite know what to do, so you just set them down in the warm water. Didn’t really have animal safe soap, so just water and a rag will do.

Have the cutest little noises at the gentle scrubs. Poor thing was filthy. Must have been on the streets for a while. Broke your heart. Such a brave little solider. Able to handle out there for as long as they did.

“Let’s dry you off and feed you.” You would lift the little thing up, and made sure they got nice and dry. Get all that grime off them. Certainly seemed alot happier now, so you guess you did a really good job.

Once you stepped out of the bathroom you heard knocking at your door. Who’s going to be contacting you this late? Let alone you in general? Had you cautious. You first found a strange animal, and now someone was knocking at your door? That didn’t equal good.

“Don’t make a noise. I’ll be right back.” You whispered, as you quickly took them to your room. Plopped right on your bed, and you closed the door.

You would wrap yourself in a bath robe, since you had changed into your sleep wear, and peeped through the peep hole.

The sight sure was strange.

There on the other side had to be the embodiment of sunshine. Had this curious attire of blue and browns, a suit case in one hand, and a stick in the other? Why does this fluffy haired guy have a stick with him? Maybe you just couldn’t see properly from the peep hole.

“Who’s at the door?!” You called, and you watched those big sparkling eyes light up. Excited that someone was home.

“Ah yes! Uh you don’t know me but you have something of mine! A sweet little thing. His name is Teddy! He’s mine. My Ni-Uh. Mine. Just mine!” He called back, as you were confused. How did he know you had something?

“One moment!” You figured you would see if he was right. You would quickly return to your bedroom, seeing the animal still on your bed, and called out.

“Come here Teddy-!”

And like that he was running right over you. Quick to jump into your arms.

Ok, maybe this guy had some truth. Still, you had questions.

You would return to the door, only to see that all the locks on the door were undone. Had you so horribly confused. There was a number of locks in a variety of styles there. No way you forgot to lock them all. Could you?

That’s when the door opened, and the man stepped in. The way Teddy seemed to squeak for the strangers attention. Hands reaching out like a toddler who wanted their mother. Was just so human. Seemed like Teddy really loved this stranger.

So, you didn’t refuse.

“OH TEDDY I WAS SO WORRIED-!” He sounded ready to sob, as he held Teddy close. Tears in the corner of his eyes as Teddy held the man’s face. Giving his cheek plenty of Nuzzles.

“You seem suspiciously clean for running around out there. Did you wash him? Did you take care of him-?” He spoke with such enthusiasm. Was like he might burst into confetti.

“Uh yeah. I just saw him hiding by some trash cans and I just couldn’t leave him behind. He wasn’t aggressive in the slightest either. Poor Teddy was cold, and just alone. I was actually about to try and feed him even.”

You were soon yanked into a rather tight hug. Felt like he might squeeze you lifeless. Teddy made sure to crawl over his daddy’s shoulder to avoid being crushed. Just snuggled away into his neck. Happy to be back.

“Oh you are truly a gift. Oh I don’t know how I can ever repay such kindness and warmth you’ve given him. Oh he’s my everything really. He gets into trouble often, sure, but he’s mine.” He explained, before finally letting you go. Little cheek kisses were given from Teddy, and the man would happily nuzzle into them. Was so clear that this wasn’t some poacher or animal smuggler. That made you feel better.

“So uh. Who are you exactly?”

That had his ears a soft pink, and a shy laugh left him.

“Oh blimey. Pardon me. The name is Newt. Newt Scamander. I’m Ma…I uh mean a Zoologist. I travel around the world studying animals, rescuing those that I can, and just loving nature. The pay isn’t that great but it’s worth it.” He would offer you a hand, and you would shake it in return. Telling him your name as well. And your own career.

“So kinda like a nomad. Does that mean you don’t have a place to stay?” You questioned, as he seemed to avoid your eyes for a moment. As if either to embarrassed to admit it, or trying to quickly come up with a lie.

“Well um. You see…I was currently trying to get a room for myself, but someone had to go running off. Can’t really blame him though. He adores shiny things. I should have been more careful. I know he has a weakness to things that shimmer and sparkle. It was all on me.” He would admit, as you had to respect that he was taking accountability.

“I mean. One night can’t hurt, right?” You couldn’t help it. This guy seemed to not be native here in the slightest. Said he’s a world traveler, sure, but it seems he’s not used to a concrete jungle. Wasn’t dressed for it, and sure didn’t seem like he was prepared at all. Did he really just only have that suit case with him? To travel the world? Something seemed….Off.

“Oh no no. You’ve already done so much. You’ve protected my baby. I can’t be asking you more-“ He tried to persuade you away, but your curiosity was to peaked. This guy was weird. Didn’t give any bad vibes kinda weird. Just….So peculiar.

“It’s one night really. You must have been hunting Teddy for hours. You didn’t get a chance to find a room, and it’s super late now. I can’t just throw you into the streets. One night. Just one.” You tried to logically explain, only to get another near back breaking hug.

“Oh I’ll never be able to repay your kindness. Oh your heart is so full. No wonder Teddy trusted you. Teddy has always been a brilliant judge of character. He knew you were a good person. No way would he let a stranger just hold him, let alone wash him. Oh thank you-!” You could feel the tears of relief in your shoulder, and all you could do was rub his back. Letting him breathe.

So that was how you ended up with a stranger living on your couch. Well, can’t say stranger given you knew his name now. Still! Most people would call you insane for doing such a thing.

Maybe you were.

But hey! Insane people have the most fun!

Besides, he’s pretty damn cute. Cute to see him snuggled into the couch, with Teddy under his arm, and his suitcase slid under the couch. Made sure to stay out of sight. You figured it was full of valuable paper work.

Did make you wonder though.

Where the hell did those pajamas he was wearing come from then? Did he just have them in that case and papers?

He was just full of to many questions to ignore.

He’s a stranger, but you just had to learn more.

Learn what made that man tick.

[spookikookiboo]

Officer Dunn -FNAF Alternate Universe

@pudim-16-world asked " How does Dunn possess Glamrock Freddy in this AU?"

This was a really good question and one I wanted to tackle in semi-comic form. The version of events that lead to Officer Dunn possessing Glamrock Freddy are ones I have put my own twist on based loosely on the FNAF novel The Silver Eyes by Kira Breed-Wrisley and Scott Cawthon.

In my opinion Officer Dunn was a character that had a lot of potential and had an excellent base for true and meaningful motives that could have driven him and the FNAF lore forwards.

I’ll start with some background. Officer Robert ‘Bobby’ Dunn was new to the department in Hurricane, Utah. At the start of his career he had taken on a number of cold cases. One of which being Hurricane Utah’s most infamous, the disappearances of 5 children at local pizzeria, Freddy Fazbear’s.

Bobby dug into the evidence surrounding the events that transpired. He began investigating further, which led him to the doorstep of the then closed building that had once been operating as the restaurant in question. He made multiple trips to Freddy Fazbear’s and was able to uncover old files, blueprints of the building among other documents. All of which aided in fleshing out missing details from the original report.

The chief of police found out about Bobby’s ventures and advised against his continued digging. He was worried for his officer’s safety in a building that was legally condemned by the city. Despite this however Dunn returned to the restaurant, feeling he needed to take one last look.

It was raining hard the night Officer Dunn arrived at the rundown establishment. Upon going inside he had the strangest feeling that he was being watched. Bobby made his way to the back office, in the hopes of retrieving files that may have been left behind. Employee records, spreadsheets, checkbooks, anything.

The next thing he knew his throat felt like it was burning and he couldn't breathe. The last thing he saw…was a rabbit. Decrepit and laughing wildly as it loomed over him while he bled out on the dirty checkered floor. Bobby’s world went dark… The moment that he was self aware he found himself standing in that office. With no concept of how much time had passed or- what happened to him. Thinking it had all been a strange dream he attempted to leave but each time he tried he would wind up right back where he started… in the office.

Bobby soon met them. The little ones. The children who had gone missing. First there was one…the bravest. Then there were two. Soon he was in the presence of more.

They were scared...Bobby realized almost like he had forgotten- that they were the reason he had come here. Any relief Bobby had felt by finding them evaporated when he realized they were like him. Gone…just not entirely.

Over time Bobby gained their trust, learned their names and heard their stories.

Each child had met the same golden rabbit dressed in purple who lured them away from their families and led them to their end. Bobby promised them that no matter what happened… he would protect them. He would not leave them and that somehow…he would see justice carried out.

They stuck together from that day forward, becoming some version of a family. Bobby had always wanted children and they needed him. The officer took it upon himself to ensure nothing happened to any of them. The children showed him the suits that their bodies had been hidden inside of. One of them… the bravest, had excitedly shown how he could manipulate the robot itself. Making it talk and do exactly as he wanted rather than whatever it had been programmed to do.

The Animatronics were their safe space, the item they felt secure to hide away in. Bobby, having not been stuffed into a suit at his end, had the freedom to move about where he saw fit…on an endless security patrol. After all, he had no reason to hide.

The case files that Bobby had looked into, stated that five children had gone missing from the Pizzeria but he had only met four. Gabriel who resided within Bonnie, Susie who remained within Chica, Fritz who hid inside of Foxy and Cassidy who took up residence inside Freddy. Cassidy was the only child who ever hid from Bobby, wanting nothing to do with him. She was aloof and untrusting. Angry and spiteful. She had died on her birthday and she definitely asserted herself to be the ringleader of the others at least for a time.

At first Cassidy would use the Freddy suit like the others but eventually she seemed to vanish entirely. Losing interest in the suit like a child outgrowing a toy. They all looked for her but never came back to them. It almost seemed as though she did not want to be found.

Bobby had thought maybe she had…passed on. Moved on, perhaps found peace? At least that is always what he had hoped was true. Though he was not entirely sure, sometimes he thought he could still hear her. Eventually with her absence persisting and the children wishing him to stay closer to them Bobby begain to occupy the Freddy Animatronic.

He has been inside every sense. Every rendition the mascot has undertaken , every upgrade. It's still him. Hiding like the rest of them. In plain sight but unseen.

Over the past forty years Dunn was able to put together the full story. Which quickly became stranger than fiction .

One of the founders of Fazbear Entertainment, William Afton, was responsible for the murder and disappearance of the children, Officer Dunn and countless others who had worked for the company. He was tried and acquitted of all charges…found not guilty by the courts due to the lack of evidence. Meaning he got away with it. He got away with all the lives he stole.

The justice system failed…but karma seemed to come back around for Afton. In a fitting twist of fate that man who had dismembered and stuffed the bodies of small children into the suits of animatronics met his end inside of one. He died…but he didn’t leave. He remained inside that crumpled bunny suit until Bobby walked into that office. Giving him a new victim.

William Afton’s soul lives on…free from meeting the justice for his actions and free to continue his twisted experiments within the catacombs of the pizzaplex. The children’s souls can not truly be at rest until he is gone for good and Officer Dunn has sworn to put an end to this cycle once and for all. Protecting everyone to the best of his ability, as he swore to do when he first donned the badge.

~Spooki🖤

[stayandot8]

Chapter Four: Just One Yesterday

"If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention..."

Genre: angst

Relationship type: established gf/bf

Important Contents: bar setting, so mentions of alcohol, chris is a lowkey-highkey dick, swearing as usual, 18+, mentions of dr*gs, death of a child (if i miss any, please let me know)

a/n: well. it's been a long time coming but here we are, at the end of it all. thank you to everyone who has read this series. i've put quite a bit of work into this and i hope you enjoy it. if you were hoping for a happy ending tied up with a bow, i'm sorry to disappoint you. but this was the ending i decided on a while ago and it feels right to me. so. sorry if you hate, but not sorry actually. thank you to those who encouraged me to keep writing this, you know who you are. thank you for the motivation because my ADHD was close to taking over and i was ready to quit this. i'm glad i didn't. but anyways.

thank you.

-Sparkles

WC: 11.8k

last part l masterlist

~

“Come on, Chan! Won’t you play with me for just a minute?”

*

We were all sitting around, brushing glass off the ripped booth seats. The stuffing from inside them was scattered around us, Jeongin trying his best to sweep what he could from around where we had gathered in the corner. His face was creased with frown lines. 

“Innie, your face will freeze like that.” It was my best attempt at a joke to lighten the mood. Jeongin returned it with his attempt at a half-hearted smile and kept sweeping, gathering pieces of glass with every stroke. 

There was another long pause of silence. Hyunjin huffed and continued surveying everything around him with the same pained expression Jeongin was wearing. Changbin was staring at his feet while Felix was sitting between them and was laying his head on each of their shoulders. He would alternate between the two when the other was moving too much. This was the most solemn I had ever seen him. He had checked online to see if any other places in town had been hit with a break-in, but none were reported. So he resolved to be here for moral support for anyone who needed him, which was the two he was between at the moment. 

Minho was just plain pissed. He had gone missing for the time being, off to recover the camera footage from the ones he had put in. He hadn’t said a word to anyone, opting for the silent treatment. Chris just looked terrified. He was leaning against what was left of the bar and staring at the words on the wall behind it, saying something to himself over and over, just barely audible if anyone were to listen. Shaking his head at the spray painted words and fidgeting his fingers, picking at his cuticles. It was a complete turnaround from the man I had seen over the last few weeks. That one had been confident and ambitious, his wit sharp and his mind in the zone of whatever he was doing. But the one that was standing across the room… He was small, with the weight of the world on his chest, not just his shoulders. And it would crush him if he let it.

Han was sitting beside me, holding a large rock in his lap and staring at it. We had assumed that was what they had used to break in without a key, whoever they were. Han was staring at it like he felt sorry for it, 

“It never asked to be used like that.”

“That’s the strangest reaction I’ve ever heard.” And that was that. 

Seungmin had disappeared with Minho, looking at the outward damage and taking notes and pictures for the insurance company. He had sprung to action after Minho stormed off, the only other one thinking logically about the next steps. When someone offered to help, he would shoo them away and say he had everything he needed. 

I wasn’t saying much, trying to break up the long silences with something here and there. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t help anyone, no one needed anything. So I sat, trying to sort out the emotions I felt that someone had broken in and destroyed the only place I had ever called a home. It had to be someone with a grudge of some kind, something against someone here. I thought of asking everyone to come up with a list of anyone they could think of with enough motive to do something like this. 

Next thing we know, three cop cars pull into our parking lot. Three burly men and a younger one got out of them and carefully looked over the place before asking for someone. Seungmin went up to them and started telling them everything they needed to know; we had all just come back from vacation to find this and we had no suspects. Minho had come storming in from the office, holding his laptop under his arm. It was closed and he was still looking pissed, so it was safe to assume he didn’t find anything of use. I shot him a questioning look in case he looked my way, which he did but glanced over me and headed straight outside to the police. They conferred for a while and we all just watched them in silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chris wipe his eyes and head out the back door.. 

*

“Help me… It hurts… Why does it hurt?...”

“Shhh Danny, it’s okay. Don’t talk, it’ll only make it hurt worse.”

“Chan… It hurts…”

*

“Hey.” I touched him gently on the shoulder, the cigarette that appeared out of nowhere was dangling from his fingertips. He hadn’t lit it yet, but the lighter was in his other hand. He was staring at the sidewalk, lost in thought. When he finally glanced over, his lip was quivering. He looked shaken. “Where did you get those?” He wiped his nose with his hand and sniffed. 

“I hid them back here just in case I would need them. This would be…one of those times.” I was confused. “It’s all my fault.” He took a shuddering breath and let it out, staring at the sky.

“What are you talking about?”

“I did this. I brought them here.” He whispered to me. 

“Brought who here?”

“They found me once and now they’ve come back to get their revenge. It’s all my fault.”

“Are you talking about those guys I saw you with that night?” He nodded slowly. 

“I ignored them when they reached out and this is what I’ve done. To everyone. I put everyone in danger.” His eyes had welled up and his breathing was frantic. “It’s exactly like you said would happen. I should’ve left when you caught me.”

“Chris…”

“No, I should have. I was stupid for thinking this would be far enough to keep them away. For thinking I could forget every decision I’ve made until now. All my choices have finally caught up to me and now…” The first tears had now made streams on his cheeks. “Now someone else has paid the price. Again.” 

I didn’t know what to say after that. Something in me told me there was nothing I could’ve said to him in that moment that would’ve comforted him or brought him an ounce of peace. So I just stood there beside him while he cried and thought about…whatever he was thinking about.

We just leaned against the fence in mutual silence, the unlit cigarette still in between his fingertips. After another moment, he tossed it on the ground and turned on his heel. 

“I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you later.” I nodded to his back as his muscles shifted beneath his t-shirt. I probably should have asked where he was going, and in hindsight I definitely should have.

*

After Seungmin and Minho were done with the police, they sent us all home so they could speak with anyone who might have seen anything. We were all too frustrated to do much of anything so we all met up at Felix’s bakery. He said a sweet treat might help us lift our spirits. So everyone minus Chris sat in the summer heat outside smelling the baked goods being prepared for us. Felix had closed down shop while we were gone so the place was empty, some people walking by were craning to see if the open sign was turned. It was not; it still read CLOSED.

Everyone was just as defeated as they were when we left, except now with plates of pastries in front of them, uneaten. Minho was staring at a danish on an orange plate as if his combined powers of will would lift it into his mouth if he wished it hard enough. When he decided it wouldn’t work, he just slouched further into his metal chair and sighed. 

“This is fucking ridiculous.” He tilted his head to watch the clouds go by. “Who turned off the cameras before we left?” 

“No one did. They had to have turned them off right before they did it. We have the footage of us leaving and the days after. They shut off right before the vandalism. Whoever it was must have known where they were to turn them off.” Hyunjin was being surprisingly serious about this whole thing. When he let it out, he was actually quite smart. “So if we know they were turned off, that means they knew that we had them.”

“Every restaurant worth their talent has cameras now. That’s not really an unknown fact.” Changbin chimed in. “These people knew exactly how to turn them off. We had nothing. They just… cut out.” 

“Then wouldn’t they have to have known their way in and around to find the switch?” Jeongin piped up. 

“Yes. They would have.” Minho responded. “And no one has ever told anyone anything about our camera system?” 

“It’s not really something that comes up with the two other friends I have other than you guys.” Han said sarcastically. “Not really a hot topic with the young crowd.” Minho rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. 

“I just don’t understand…” He rambled on to those who were listening while others picked at whatever pastry was in front of them. I let my mind wander to where Chris might have ran off to. 

It was like trying to put together a puzzle without the edges: it was hard to pick a place to start. What had he rushed off to do? Was there something he needed to do right then and there?  It didn’t have to do with me, did it? I wasn’t sure. I thought about sending him a quick text just to check in, but from how he looked before he ran off, he needed space and time. And I’d give him what he needed, just like he did for me. 

“So what do we do while everything gets back in order? Twiddle our thumbs?” It was the first time Seungmin had spoken to us directly since we got to Felix’s place. 

“No. You rebuild.” Felix piped up. “You get in there and clean it up and you move on. You don’t let it get to you, no matter where it came from. You do the work and you take the time that you need to move forward. All of you.” He looked us all in the eyes, going from one to the next, holding it there so we would know he meant every word he said. Felix was good at that, saying the words people needed to hear and being sincere with all of it. It was one of his many superpowers. 

The only way through this ordeal was through. There were no ifs, ands, or buts, about it. We would find the people who did this and hold them responsible. We’d pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and move along just like we always had. 

“Think of it this way: now you can repaint it!” Felix, ever the bright-sided one, continued to point out all the things Minho could change now that it had been ‘taken care of for him’ until Minho stopped looking so downtrodden. The others were softly smiling at Felix with a look of wonder at how someone could be so positive and pick up the ones around him without fail.

“So.” I sighed. “Onwards, then.”

*

“But I don’t want this one, Chan. I want chocolate.”

“I know, Danny, but that one’s too high. I can’t reach it.” “What do you mean? You can do anything, Channie!”

*

It was late by the time I got back home, well past midnight. My dark apartment had long been quiet since I didn’t even have a chance to get home when he sent us. I’d gone looking for Chris only to come up empty handed. My bags were so heavy I left them in the entryway and stumbled onto my couch to lay down. I fell straight into the pillow and had one last thought before I fell asleep.

Me: Wherever you ran off to, I hope you’re okay. Come back when you’re ready. I hope that’s soon.

*

The alleyways He chose always stank of mildew. The rain tonight didn’t help. Everything was slick with water and nothing would chase away the stench of wet pavement, no matter how hard the car exhaust tried. Of course He chose tonight of all nights, when Danny wouldn’t sleep and begged to come with him wherever he was going. He had to beg him to stay in bed with a promise of pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, loaded with everything he could think of, if he would just stay in bed. 

These were the thoughts that plagued him as He showed himself for the first time that night. His usual fur coat had been switched for a slick black trenchcoat to block out the rain, but the rest of His attire was the same. His dark denim hadn’t started sticking to his legs yet, but it was sure to start now that He was out from the safety of His chauffeur-driven car. 

*

The pounding at my door startled me from my slumber with a jolt. I rubbed my eyes, my vision still fuzzy, and blinked until everything cleared. I shook my head as I stood up to stare through my peephole at a frazzled-looking Chris, his face flushed and pale and panting so loud I could hear it through the door, which I unlocked. His attention snapped to me and we locked eyes for a moment. His eyes were wild, more so than I’d ever seen before. 

“Chris?” I said lowly, voice groggy. “What time is it?” The more I looked at him, the more panicked I became. “Chris, what’s wrong?” His chest was rising and falling more rapidly now, like he couldn’t control it.

“I fucked up. I fucked up big time.” I felt my eyes grow wider.

“You better come inside.” I gestured him in.

He brushed past me and went straight for the couch, sitting on what I was just sleeping on. He bounced a little, letting himself drop onto it like I had. His eyes now were staring blankly at the TV on the wall, like he was merely looking into it. I waited until his breathing had slowed back to a semi-normal pace before offering him some water which he took. He held onto it like it was the only thing tying him to reality, like everything would shatter if he let go of that glass. I watched him grip it, his stare still blank. I let him sit there for however long he needed. 

After what felt like ages, and a few jerks awake from me, he finally spoke.

“It was them.”

“What was them? Who is them?”

“The guys who came after my dad and then me. They trashed the place. It was me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They gave me a warning and I ignored it. I thought they were empty threats. I should’ve known better.”

“You thought a drug lord you used to work with would make empty threats?”

“I know. It was a stupid thought and I should have known better.”

“You have to tell Minho.” He sighed. 

“I know. But how? He’s the only one in this world who was willing to help me when things went to shit. How do I tell him that I betrayed him like this?”

“But how did you betray him? It’s not your fault they broke in, they made that choice themselves.”

“But I brought them here to do that. I led them straight here. They robbed him and broke everything because of me. Because I told them to leave me alone. And this is what happens when you fuck with the wrong people.” He grabbed a pillow and held it to his face and screamed. And screamed and screamed. I only placed a hand on his back for comfort, unsure of what to say. He screamed until his voice went hoarse and they dissolved into quiet tears. “It can’t happen again. Not again. Not again.”

I wasn’t sure what to do, if there was anything I could do that would console him enough to calm him down. So I got up, filled my kettle, and let him heave all of these emotions onto me, ready to catch them and hold them with him. He asked why I was willing to, he couldn’t understand why anyone would want to carry a burden that wasn’t theirs. 

“Because…that’s what keeps us alive. Sharing our burdens so they’re not…as heavy. It doesn't make the pain stop, it doesn’t make everything better again, but it lightens the load you have to carry everyday. That load only gets heavier and heavier with each passing day, but your friends and loved ones are there to take some of it off and help you to carry it. It might not make the most sense right now, but I promise it will. But you have to help us to help yourself. You have to decide who you trust enough to help you carry the weight. You trusted me enough to tell me about Daniel. And I’m grateful you did. But it’s up to you who to give that trust to.”

“The only people I’ve trusted I had to abandon.”

“Well, there’s only one way to break that curse… If you let us. All in your own time. Don’t push it until you’re ready.”

“What if I’m never ready?”

“Then I’m okay with being the one to help you lift.”

*

When I woke up, we were bundled together on my couch, our empty mugs forgotten on the coffee table. I blinked, my arms wrapped around Chris’s sleeping form moving up and down steadily in time with his chest. I was laying on him and I craned my neck up, wanting to watch him sleep just a little longer. 

He looked restless. His eyebrows were scrunched even more than they were when he first came to my door last night, like he was having a nightmare. And with all the thoughts that our conversation last night brought up, I’m sure he was reliving it all in his mind’s eye. I wasn’t sure if I should wake him or not, but he saved me from deciding when I heard him grunt and scrunch his eyes until they opened. He looked around until he remembered where he was then glanced down at me, his tired lips curving upwards. 

“Morning.” I whispered.

“Morning.” He whispered back. 

“How are you feeling? Any different?”

“Not really. But waking up next to you is nice. I could get used to that.”

“You don’t have to say that just because you’re in my apartment, you know. You can tell me if my morning breath is that bad.” He was avoiding the subject and I was going to let him. He’d been through enough for one night.

“It wasn’t that bad last night and it isn’t now either.” A soft chuckle from him and a small weight was lifted from my chest. It was nice to hear him laugh after last night.

“Oh please.” I laughed and threw off the blanket. “I’m going to shower and brush my teeth.” He started rising from the couch too and I spun to throw him a raised brow. “And where are you going?”

He looked like a kid caught trying to run away, but with his body turned toward the direction I was heading, he wasn’t doing that exactly. Instead he froze, looked at me, and slowly sat back down. I rolled my eyes, the smile never leaving my face.

“You can come pick out a toothbrush and then brush your teeth in the kitchen sink.” 

I'll give him whatever distraction he needs to get through this, I told myself. I’ll give him what he needs and then when he’s ready, he’ll come to me.

Won’t he?

From the hallway I hear

“But why can’t I brush my teeth in there?” 

Yeah. He will.

*

“Do you have what I asked for, kid?”

“This has to stop now. This is the last deal I’m doing for you. I’m done.”

He never liked mincing words. What He wanted from His dealers was a quick cut to the chase. He valued directness. He tried doing that, but this was pushing it. He had to keep it quick to get back home. Make his point, sever ties, and get home. That was what he kept repeating to himself as he spoke.

“You think you can get away that easy? You should know better than that. No one escapes The Cartelic. This shit is for life.”

“And what if I made a deal with you?”

*

That first day of repairs was.

“This place is a wreck.”

“Well spotted, Binnie.”

“Hey! I was just saying that this is going to take a while to do, even with the guys your dad hired.” Binnie glanced over at Minho apologetically, looking somehow adorable in his backwards hat and tank top. Minho just looked defeated the whole drive over. Myself, Minho, and Chris all packed into the car this morning to head to our hardware store to grab whatever we ourselves could do until the repairmen showed up, which included picking up the trash and broken things on the floor as well as sweeping up the broken glass everywhere. So we picked up about a billion boxes of trash bags and got to work, the other guys slowly appearing as the day went on. 

Changbin was the last to arrive with Jeongin, walking over the remaining glass to our spot and clutching his bag on his shoulder. 

“We came just in time to do the dirty work.” Changbin said with the fakest smile I had ever seen on anyone, including Hyunjin. Minho threw them both a pair of gloves. 

“So get to dirty working.”

Repairs were slow. So slow. But at least they were happening. 

Chris was over in the corner helping Hyunjin paint in the most adorable set of paint clothes I’d ever seen. Minho told Hyunjin he could paint something on the wall if he was on time for the next month. I didn’t know someone could look cute in clothes with tears and holes in them but there he was in basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. Every now and then, he would move in a way that would allow me to catch a peak of his skin. It made me feel like I was back in the Victorian age when the sight of a woman’s ankles sent men into a tizzy. What is wrong with me… 

I shook my head and turned back to the wall I was putting plaster on with Felix. He didn’t have to help, but that’s just who he was. He wouldn’t miss a chance to help a friend when it really counted. His bright blue hair was tied back in a half up, half down style keeping most of the loose strands out of his face. The few that fell out were perfectly placed as if he pulled them out himself. Life was so unfair sometimes…

Hyunjin and Chris were talking about something I couldn’t quite hear, then Hyunjin’s voice came in clear as day to my ears.

“You know, me and Han weren’t always the glowing twins we are now. We fought in the beginning.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah, we used to be at each other’s throats. He had a lot of pent-up anger when I first met him. But we actually met before we both started working here. We used to dance together in a group before we got this job. He would tell me all these things I needed to work on while he would be messing up just the same as me.”

“Han had pent-up anger?”

“Oh yeah. He would pick fights with almost everyone until he got his shit figured out. It took some serious sit-downs to talk it out. I had to bribe him to come with me.”

“So bribery does work on him.”

“Ha. Yeah, especially when he knows deep down he needs to chill out. We met up at a cafe nearby, Felix’s place actually. We talked about nothing for about five minutes, and then I just laid it all out. I told him that something had to give and it wasn’t going to be me. Then I tried to level with him, said we didn’t have to be best friends but if we were going to work together, then it had to, at least, be cordial. Minho was there, saw our…potential, I guess, and had us come in for interviews. Now here we are.” 

It was true, I remembered Minho telling me the story. He appreciated how they were talking it out outside of the group by themselves. He had just fired his whole restaurant because of the environment they had created amongst themselves and he was over it. He wanted to start from scratch. And he did. And did it well. He already had me on board, he just needed everyone else. 

“Han isn’t like that now. Now he knows that we’re all here for him. We’ve learned how to handle issues with him, if there are any. But there are rarely issues with us all now. We all came to just trust that if one of us has a problem, we’ll come to them with it.”

Chris thought about this a moment as he continued painting. I wondered what he was thinking about. 

*

After a full day of working on repairs with the guys Minho’s father called for the stuff we couldn’t do, Minho ordered food for everyone who worked. That was the real reason Changbin and Seungmin came, I later found out. 

We were all spread out on the floor, now swept and mopped so we could walk around freely. Blankets were spread out for comfort, or so I was told. We were ‘testing out the new cushions’ for the new booths, as Hyunjin had pointed out when he refused to sit on the bare floor. Everyone else was scattered around with plates of various dishes. 

I was watching Chris closer than I would ever admit to out loud. I was just worried about what all he was carrying with him in that head of his while he talked and listened. He was watchful and careful with his expression, not letting anything show about the worries he had come to me with. This troubled me the most. Why is he showing me and not them? I considered this. Was it because he felt safer with me? Did they give him some reason not to be trusted? What had happened between last week at my place and now? What was he thinking about?

“And that’s when I yelled at him that since we fight and yell so much, we might as well be a married couple! The blank stare I got back was so funny, ugh. I wish you all could have seen it.” Seungmin was wistfully staring at Minho now finished recanting the early days when they started planning the new menu together. Minho just shook his head, fighting the smile so as to keep his ‘bored’ exterior but we all knew the truth. He wouldn’t be Minho without Seungmin and he knew that. 

“You were really getting on my nerves and it just shocked me that you would say something like that! I wasn’t expecting it. You kept suggesting we make a pairing menu for the beers and wines. I kept telling you you were crazy and that this is not that kind of place.” He finally cracked a smile to show off those bunny teeth I always made fun of. 

“Well excuse me for trying to bring some class to this place.” Seungmin matched his grin. 

Ever since we got back from our trip, I took every moment I could to really, really look at Minho. How he carried himself, how he interacted with others that he knew and those he did not. To anyone who had just met him, he could seem standoffish, cold even. But when it really came down to it, I think he has the biggest heart of us all. How he met Chris was the truest testament to that; helping a stranger when they needed an out of a bad situation. That was who Minho really was at his base. I hoped he found someone who could truly be his match some day.

“It’s not as bad as that one guy who came in to work for Felix. He was terrible!” Jeongin countered whatever they were talking about while I wondered. 

“Oh no, HE was the worst.” Felix agreed. “He was always late, he was rude to customers, and never restocked before he left. I left him in charge of inventory for the back room one time and I was left without takeout boxes for two weeks! That’s more than half my business!” They all shook their heads, remembering the tales of when Felix would come in early because he had to close because of him. He was a real mess. 

“That shouldn’t happen now, though.” Felix said to his now-empty plate. “I hired one girl who took the interview very seriously. Said she was trying to go to culinary school here and would ‘love the opportunity to get hands-on experience in baked goods’ or something. Beth is her name. You’ll start seeing her around the shop soon since she starts Monday.” 

“That soon? Why didn’t you tell us you were hiring help?” Changbin asked with genuine curiosity. 

“I don’t need to run every business decision by you, do I?” Felix retorted with a smile. “Besides, she sounds like she’ll really be a big help with the actual baking stuff. She’s eager to learn everything. It’ll be a nice change to have someone actually wanting to be there.” 

“It sounds like you’ll have your hands full training someone new. I’m happy for you, Lix. Really. She sounds like she’ll really be a big help.” I hoped my sincerity shone through my words, By the look Felix gave back to me, it did. 

“You guys should come meet her! Or should I bring her here?”

“”Give her a few days to get used to everything. Then let her in on the circus.” Chris piped up. “You guys can be a lot when you’re first meeting someone. Take it from the one who was last to join.” 

“Oh come on, we’re not that bad.” I smirked at him, causing everyone to laugh. Chris shook his head as he laughed and while everyone was occupied with throwing away their trash, he threw me a wink.

*

“Do you want to come over? I made steak last night, it’s pretty good.”

Chris nodded, lowering his head to watch the pavement as we walked to my car. The otherwise abandoned parking lot was only lit by the one streetlamp adjacent, casting a dull glow on the summer night. The pavement must have been more interesting than whatever was going on around him because Chris stared at it the whole time, then rested his head on my headrest and watched the world go by as we drove back to my place. Something had shifted in him since we had left. When we pulled into my place, he made no move to get out. Only unbuckled his seatbelt and stared at his lap. I sat there and let him, not wanting to push him any more than he must have already felt. I knew if I felt exhausted, he had to as well.

We let the sounds of nightfall surround us while we sat. I wasn't sure how long we sat there until he broke the silence. 

“I want to tell them.”

“Tell them what?”

“What I did.” 

“And what did you do?” He looked at me, a flat expression gracing his eyes. Like I should know what he’s talking about. “Ah.” I let that sink in, weighing the words against my inner judgment, debating on giving advice or not. “What brought you to this conclusion?”

“These past few weeks…Mixed with the past couple months with all of them, I think I can trust them. I don’t want to tell them, but I feel like I need to. They deserve to know.”

“Why do they need to know? You don’t even know if it was them, Chris-”

“But I do know. I just know. Who else could it have been?”

“Anyone. You’re not the only one with enemies. Maybe the only with with a drug lord on that list but…” It was a poke to try to get him to laugh. He didn't. “What happened? What made you change your mind?”

He didn’t answer. He chose that moment to unlock his door and get out of the car. I had no choice but to follow him up the yard and up the steps. In the stairwell upwards, he whispered quietly so it wouldn’t bounce off the walls.

“I don’t know. I just…trust them. Like I trust you.” He stood to the side to let me unlock the door, our arms brushing while I dug for my keys. Even with the heavy subject matter we were discussing and implying between the lines, that jolt of electricity still ran down my spine. I both hated and loved that our chemistry could withstand it all. 

“I’m honored to have gained your trust so quickly. Are you sure you want to tell them?” As his friend, I wanted him to be sure he was confident in his decision. I knew it would kill him if he came to regret it later on, but I wasn’t sure he would. I trusted those boys with my life and then some, and if Chris had come to the same conclusion on his own, that meant even more. 

“I do. I will soon.” He came in after me and settled on the couch, just like he had the first night he came to me after the incident. But his features were much more…peaceful this time. He looked rested, like the weight had lifted when he had decided he would tell them. Instead of simply hovering over the fence between fainting from stress and the verge of tears, he seemed relaxed. Likely because of his decision for peace over secrets, but I chose to believe it was because he felt better here, in my house. 

“Good. Now help me with the steaks, yeah?”

*

“Your deal is no good here. Stupid to think that a child would have something I would want.”

“But what if I do?”

“And what could you possibly want in return, kid?”

“I want my father back.”

The bigger man laughed, his stomach jiggling as he did. “I forgot just how young you are. Are you still waiting for your father to come home? Pathetic.”

His hands shook as he clenched them, trying to keep his grip on his emotions. He knew that if He caught a whiff of any, he would be finished. So he reigned in his anger, centering himself to retort back.

“I expect nothing. Name your price and it’s done.”

“Your father was worth nothing, just like you. I want for nothing, unlike you. Your father will remain where we put him; six feet under.”

*

We laid in my bed, side by side, Chris’s fingers playing with mine and me, just watching while the light from the TV bounced around the room. Each time he glanced over to my face, I switched from watching his fingers back to the TV, fighting the grin dying to take over. I had to bite the inside of my cheek in order to do so, and he pretended not to notice when he went back to it. He would run the pads of his thumbs over my nails then down the length of my fingers, diving between them and then back up to the next. And he would start back over in the opposite direction, just resting and letting his mind wander wherever it was going. 

I was barely paying attention to the game show he had put on while I was in the bathroom, distracted by the mindless but intentional sensory placater that was happening. It was as much for me as it was for him, not thinking about the days ahead or behind. Living for the now, as we had been advised to do. Remembering the past would only bring to the surface all of the pain that rested there. He could leave it there if he wanted or choose to lighten the load, give some to me until he was ready to share it with someone else. Whatever he was ready for, whenever. 

He brought my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Tell me what you thought when you first met me. What was going through your mind when you saw me walk in through those glass doors?” I finally moved my head to look at him straight on and saw curiosity staring back at me with a glimmer of something else simmering just below.

“What brings this on? Anything specific you want to hear?” He shook his head. 

“No. I just want to hear your honest thoughts. Have to make sure I make a good impression.” I snorted.

“Yeah, okay.” I said sarcastically and paused to think back. “Obviously, you were shrouded in mystery. The way Minho brought you in was super weird. I don't know why he had to bring us all in first to ‘make sure we were on the same page’ before he brought you out to the front.”

“He was giving me a tour of the back rooms when you all arrived. He went out to see what all the ruckus was and he came back and said it was just you guys. Said that we should all meet before dinner service that night.”

“Yeah, Minho likes his people to work well together. Which, I say we’re doing a fantastic job so far.” I winked at him. “I remember thinking that you were going to shake things up from what we had known. That you were either going to be the best thing that would happen to us or…” I didn’t want to say ‘the worst’. I wanted to save his worries at least a little, those that I could control. “And I thought you were cute in your little backwards baseball hat. You had these little hairs sticking out in the back and they kinda looked like a little duck’s tail.”

“A duck’s tail?”

“Yeah. The way it flips upwards, it's adorable.”

“Oh I’m adorable, am I?” 

“I didn’t say that.” I said quickly.

“Yes you did.” He said just as fast. 

“Oh stop it. Don’t let it go to your head. You were a right little shit straight afterwards.”

“It’s because you caught me off guard! I didn't know what to do so I resorted to default settings.” 

“What does that mean, I ‘caught you off guard’? What about me caught you off guard?” Disbelief coated my words, not thinking that anything about me could be catching anyone off guard.

“Everything. Everything about you.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “No, really! What, you don’t believe me?”

“I just don’t believe I’m that breathtaking.” I said the last word in a breathy, dramatic voice. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t think I’m capable of that kind of power.” I watched the TV for the next few minutes, feeling how heavy he was staring at me. I refused to look his way, not knowing what I might find if I dared sneak a peek. The man on the TV was doing something with his leg to make the audience laugh, but I was only half listening. But the longer Chris was quiet, the more the anticipation built. And it finally broke when Chris lifted his fingers to my chin and turned me to look at him again. 

“I crumble to dust when you say my name. What makes you think you have no power?”

Everything in the room went quiet. There was only Chris. Chris and the way he was looking at me like I had done him a great kindness in knowing him. Chris and the smell of him enveloping me like a long awaited hug that my soul had been calling out for. He understood what I didn’t know I had been longing for. 

Our eyes locked and that was all he needed. 

The moments before our lips met were the longest and the shortest of my life. And when he came knocking on my door, he found it already open for him, his name carved like he owned it.

*

“Minho, why are we here at the butt crack of dawn? Some of us like to sleep at this hour and do not appreciate being called to appear at our job before the sun officially rises.” Hyunjin ran his hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. Felix jumped through the small crowd of friends and threw his arms around Hyunjin’s neck.

“Felix, if you don’t get off me, I’m going to scream into your eardrums so loud that you will need to have surgery to repair BOTH of them.” 

“Hyunjin, you’re so dramatic.”

“Yeah, how could you yell at our baby Felix like that?” Han widened his eyes to round them, making them shine like big round saucers while he threw his arms around Felix’s dejected frame. Felix’s pout accentuated his lips, making the pucker more than usual and making it impossible to say anything negative about or to. Well, more so than usual. Felix crossed his arms. 

Minho appeared around the corner of the restaurant waving his arms in our direction. 

“Over this way!” He shouted and disappeared again behind the back, forcing the rest of us to follow him. Changbin led the way, grumbling about not being told beforehand about anything for the past week. We had all spent most of the time taking well deserved breaks, helping with repairs where we could and finding odd jobs to do in the meantime while Minho’s father arranged for everything to be back in working order.

When we found Minho by the back door, the corners of his mouth were twitching something horrible, which could only mean one of two things. Either we were in for it or…

“It’s finally done. The whole thing, we’re all finished. We are officially open starting tomorrow!” He let his grin break loose to be met with cheers from the rest of the group. Whoops and hollers from us all only deepened his sense of pride and he waved his arms downwards to calm the hollers of joy. “I wanted to be the first to take a look at it, but it didn’t feel right without you guys since it felt like we did all this together, you know? I know I wouldn’t be here without you guys and-”

“Minho, can we have this moment when we get inside? The anticipation is KILLING me!” Han loved to ruin Minho’s fun when he was being too serious. It kept Minho from falling into pieces sometimes, not that he would ever admit that to anyone. 

“Fine! Fine, I guess you’ll never know. Go in, you heathens! And don’t touch anything!” Han broke into a run and burst open the back door, Chris right behind him. Felix and I hung back to watch and take in the moment, fully take in the work and everything that had been put into the place, both recently and over the years. And when we walked through that back door into the newly furnished kitchen, our words left us.

The kitchen was brand new, silver chrome coating the counters and new island in the middle for faster service with touches of bronze and copper placements everywhere. . The normal ventilation was now blocked off to where it wasn’t totally visible from directly underneath. The pots and pans now hung from hooks everywhere you looked, all crisp and waiting to be used. The stovetops, which Seungmin was now marveling at, were crystal clean and calling to him, or so he said. The ovens, three in total, were spread just far enough to prevent overcrowding at one, but not so far that you had to go too far to go from one to the other. And all of the new utensils were spread everywhere, never having to go too far for what you needed. It was gorgeous, a dream really. You could tell it was plucked straight from Minho’s dreams. 

“Min, it’s gorgeous.” I whispered to him, but he wasn’t listening. No, he was staring in wonder at his completed masterpiece. He had picked the pieces of what he thought would look best, but the designer had filled in the rest. Minho was blinking rapidly with a blank expression like he did when he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. I couldn’t help the smile that appeared when I saw him like that. It happened so rarely. “I’ll leave you to it.” I whispered to him and made to leave, but he grabbed my arm. 

“Stay. Just for a second.” He said as he continued to look around. He stood rooted to the spot, just watching everything and everyone’s reactions to it all. “Look. Look what we’ve done.”

“What you’ve done.” I corrected him. “This was all you, Minho. So take your time, take it all in. You deserve it.” I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and waited for him to squeeze back. But he didn’t. Instead he let go abruptly to show Seugmin the pantry for dry goods. I took that as my ‘ok’ to leave them. 

They had kept the swinging doors leading to the dining room like they were, just buying newer ones and new hinges. Why fix what wasn’t broken? Only now, they sported red velvet cushioning type of dressing, decorated with gold round accents while keeping the round windows for peeping. And what awaited me outside those doors took my breath away for the second time that morning. 

The dining room looked the same, and yet different at the same time. The window-walls had been replaced with the same, but stronger plexiglass of a sort, or so I overheard from Changbin with his loud voice. The booths were matching the red velvet doors along with their gold accents, giving them the new and fancier feel. The floor had been redone in a black sort of non-slip coating and the new bar had been elongated. They had replaced the mirror backing of the liquor shelves (at my request, purely for selfish and self-serving reasons) and they were back to their fully-stocked state and begging to be used. The shelf they stood on top of was fully ready for a bunch of any kind, flutes of all shapes and sizes next to every type of beer glass I could think of. I went around to look at what had been chosen just to find more surprises waiting for me behind the bar. 

I never thought I would be the type of girl that would be excited by cups, but these were too pretty to ignore. The copper sinks were deeper than the last ones, and the shakers were the same copper material as the sinks. I couldn’t wait to add my glittery one to the mix.

Chris was across the room looking at the new booths when I called him over to look at what they had replaced our stuff with. He ran over, careful of Changbin and Hyunjin looking at the new bouncer/ host stand. When he arrived at my spot, his mouth fell open, exploring all of the new nooks and crannies we had all to ourselves. He even stuck his head under the bar.

“What are you doing? Are you looking for money the restoration crew might have left?” I shoved his shoulder playfully. 

No, stupid. I’m looking for a place to write our names.” I cocked my head at the idea, considering what could go wrong if we did. Considering I’d be here forever, what was the worst that could happen?

“Let me go find a marker.”

“Got one right here.” Chris whipped out a Sharpie from his jean pocket and crouched down low. If anyone looked over here, they would only see me. 

“Do you just carry around markers with you everywhere?” I laughed as I crouched with him, taking the marker from him.

“Nah,” he responded. “Minho told me we were coming here. I had this idea last night.” I held the marker above the short wall, unwilling to write my actual initials. Hm. 

“Here, why don’t we write ‘S’ for Sparkles and ‘P’ for Puck?”

“Wow, you really did think about this.” I had to laugh again as I wrote the two letters. “People might know what ‘S’ is but will they know what ‘P’ is?”

“Doesn’t matter. At least you do. That way, when you look at it, you’ll know it’s me.” 

“I like that.” After finishing the job, I chanced the look back to him, where I caught a glimpse of what looked like sadness at the marked wall. He let out a deep sigh, which I ignored. I wanted him to have the moment to himself. 

A second later, Han barreled into the waist-level bar, marveling at the new shelves. “Oh!” He exclaimed when he spotted us. “What’re you guys doing down there?”

“Nothing!” I responded and sprouted upwards. 

“Oh okay. Have you guys seen the new bathrooms? The sinks are unbelievable!” And then he was off again.

“He has too much energy for how early it is.”

“And he’s the hardest to wake up. Can you believe that?” We shook our heads together and started to follow Han until Seungmin came in through the doors.

“Who wants to break in the new kitcheeeeennnnnn?!”

*

The answer was everyone. Everyone wanted to break in the new kitchen. And in various ways.

It took a lot of convincing from Han for Minho to let him try and use the new fryers while Hyunjin was all about the new stovetops. Seungmin was constantly peering over his shoulder because he ‘couldn’t trust him with anything new’, which Hyunjin noticed and purposely tried burning multiple pans. 

“Are you trying to fuck us before we even officially open?”

“Well, Seungmin, I didn’t know how to tell you but-” He started puckering his lips and following the younger around the kitchen. “Seungmin, come back!”

“No! No!” Seugmin’s screams could be heard from every corner of the building, yet no one thought twice about it nor went over to help, leaving him to fend for himself. 

Minho had his own section of the new flat top and was chopping away at something and adding bits and pieces of everything he could find that he thought would be good. And it wasn’t long before there was a buffet spread of freshly made food on the new bar next to Chris and I making breakfast drinks. Next thing we all knew, plates were scraped clean again and the new mimosa glasses were emptied. All nine of us sat around, testing out the new comfortability of the new booths but really, we were just sitting around, some of us paired off and others just loudly talking about random nonsense. Chris and I sat together again, his arm around me while our conversations were going in opposite directions. When he placed his arm around me at first, none of the other guys reacted really. I thought none of them had noticed until Hyunjin gave me a look in response, ‘girl we already knew’.

“It took a lot for me to trust them, actually. I’m not really a person who trusts easily so it took a while for me to open up with them. Changbin was the first one who took it upon himself to make sure I felt comfortable enough to talk about myself and my life.”

“What did he do that made you trust him? What were the signs you were looking for?”

“I’m not really sure exactly. But the more time I spent with them, the more I found myself telling them. Like it was spilling out of me. Like it had been waiting to come out. I guess…” Innie paused, searching for answers on the new wooden tables. “I guess the more I saw that he cared about what I had to say, the more inclined I was to tell him. And I think I was testing him at first to see what his reactions would be. When he didn’t run or laugh at how ridiculous it was, I think that was when it started happening.”

Chris rumpled his hair, causing Jeongin to shrink into himself and try to get away from any signs of affection, as he usually did. “Sparkles was right, you are too smart for your age.”

Jeongin’s signature laugh bounced off the freshly painted walls. 

Minho stood from his bar stool and quieted everyone with his hands. 

“Now that we’ve all been stuffed beyond our means, I have the great pleasure of telling you all that we are back in business tomorrow night so I hope you don’t have any plans.”

“But Jeongin was supposed to take me shopping!” Felix pouted back into his chair, sulking while Jeongin’s breathy laugh filled our eardrums. Minho just shrugged.

“Sorry not sorry. Anyways, front of house, come back at around six to check out the new menu items. Back of house, including Han and Hyunjin, you have to stay. We have to teach you. Trust me, we’re not looking forward to it either.”

“Hey now, I need one of the twins with me.” 

“Fine, pick one.” Minho moaned in mild frustration.

“I’m going!” Han was faster, and sped-walked quickly to my side before Minho could object. Minho rolled his eyes, but led the way to the kitchen with the others. 

Grumbles filled the air while those of us who were dismissed filed out. Chris held onto my hand until he was forced to let go by Minho.

“Bro, let’s go! You got dishes to do. You guys can make out later.” To which all of the boys groaned, Han the loudest. 

“Eeewwww, gross!”

“I’ll see you later then.” Chris whispered in my ear then kissed my cheek, leaving a literal spark where his lips had been. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I headed to the bar. 

“The rest of you, follow me. I have some new cocktail recipes I wanna try.” I practically skipped over the rest of the way, Changbin, Jeongin, Han, and Felix in tow. 

When we arrived at the bar, I was immediately bombarded with questions. 

“How long have you guys been together?”

“When did that happen?”

“Did you guys know about this? Felix was the only one who didn’t have questions. Instead he just watched the others and held in that deep laughter of his. While they spewed their questions, I gathered the ingredients I needed and started pouring them into the new shakers. They continued while I poured ice and started shaking, yelling even louder so they could hear each other over the rattling ice. They didn’t stop until I poured my creation into the glass I had selected. I opened my mouth to indicate that I was ready to talk, and they quieted down their hushed voices. 

“I call this one ‘I’m Not Answering Your Questions So Don’t Even Ask’.” They went quiet and looked for the straws. 

“It was just a question, geez.”

“Yeah, we just wanted to know what was going on.” They sipped all at once, making room for each other so they looked like one of those pictures from the 50s, all drinking a milkshake together. It was adorable.

“I like this one! What is it?” As I explained it to him and made more for them to try, I couldn’t help but think about what was going on in the kitchen. The thought that Chris wanted to tell the crew about his past hadn’t left me, but I didn’t know much more than that. Would he do it today, before our first dinner service in the new place? Or would he wait until after, letting everyone focus on the next 24 hours for themselves? 

Felix’s voice broke me of my thoughts. “So what do you think?”

“Huh? I’m sorry, Lix, I have no idea what you just said.”

“Yeah I thought so.” He mocked, then continued. “I asked you what you thought about me inviting Beth to try the new stuff? You know, get another opinion in here.”

“Yeah, that’s okay. I’m always open to new opinions.”

Half an hour later she strolled in, hair up in a long ponytail with some casual jeans and a black t-shirt clinging to the curves of her upper half in all the right places. She was definitely pretty, and she walked with her head high, shoulders back and confident for someone who was walking into a room full of people she didn’t know. When she approached, she didn’t say much beyond the simple introduction and polite hellos, but the confident air didn’t go away. It reminded me of someone…

Minho started to carry plates to the bar from the kitchen, each with their own flair that fit the dishes laden with different sauces of all colors, vegetables and various proteins. He didn’t even notice that we had an extra person among us, let alone another woman. It was only when he was counting heads to see how many forks we needed to test the new plates, that I saw him freeze and start the blinking. I watched the confusion take over until he found the culprit of the extra number and leaned over the bar towards me and waved me over. 

“Who’s the new girl?” 

“Felix’s new girl down at the bakery. Beth.” Minho nodded, this whole exchange never taking his eyes off of her. It seemed like he couldn’t, and I wasn’t sure he was really trying. She was paying no attention to him, looking over all of the plates he had brought over. 

“Oh.” He mumbled, and continued watching her look over his plates. 

“Minho?” I asked, staring at him. “Minho?” I asked a little louder. It was like he was in a trance, watching her and the way she wafted the smells coming from the food, picking apart what she thought was giving each smell and mentioning it to Felix, who nodded and listened. I didn’t want to tear him from whatever moment he was having, but Hyunjin had now come with more plates. He spotted Minho standing frozen in place like a statue and after putting his own plates down next to the ones that were already there, he snapped his fingers right in Minho’s face, waking him. 

“Hey! We still got plates back there. Let’s gooooo.” He singsoned and then traipsed back through the revolving doors without checking if Minho was behind him. Minho blinked furiously again and looked around like he forgot where he was. His eyes finally landed on my smug face, imitating when Spongebob caught Squidward eating a Krabby Patty after he swore he didn’t like them.. 

“Shut up.” He turned on his heel and ran back to the kitchen and I didn’t miss the middle finger he threw me while I cackled. “Shut up!”

“What was that about?” The woman herself had approached me to ask the question, and since she hadn’t said much to anyone other than Felix, I was surprised.

“Oh, uhm, nothing. He’s just a little odd, that’s all.”

“Was it just me or was he staring at me?”

“Like I said, he means well. That’s Minho, this is kinda his place. He’s the head chef back there.”

“Head chef?” Her interest seemed piqued at the mention of his position. “Hm.” was all she said before she took Felix’s arm and walked away. She pulled him into a corner and started whispering to him. Felix couldn’t help but laugh and whenever he laughed, she slapped him on the arm. It seemed like old friends having a discussion about something important, and Felix was mocking her for it. It was nice to see Felix with another friend.

The rest of the itchen boys brought out the rest of the plates at the same time while those of us at the bar finished making the new cocktail menu. It was a tasting menu for the ages. Food was as far as the eye could see and the glasses sat behind them, everything ready to be tasted. Everyone gathered around the bar for the second time that day, this time for business rather than family time. 

“It was nice not to have to pay for food today.” Hyujin said as he poised his fork over the glazed pork dish in front of him. “I don’t like cooking by myself anyways.” He brought his fork to his mouth and scrunched his face together, like he was in pain.

“Hyunjin, why do you always look like you’re in pain when you eat?ou scrunch your face like this.” I did my best impersonation of the face he just made, hoping it was as accurate as it felt. 

“I do not do that!”

“You do. It’s okay, it’s cute.” Changbin said as he came up behind him with his fork poised to eat. Hyunjin’s indignation reached all the way down the bar, hitting everyone but Minho, who was reading something on his phone. He was a lonely island in the sea of laughter around him, out of place in the rambunctious fun happening. 

“Yah!” He called out, silencing the room around him. His volume was louder than he needed, signaling to the group that the seriousness of what he had to say was trumping whatever was happening. He held up his phone, reading from it. “‘The cops pulled the cameras from that day around the area and found the car as it was leaving. They identified it as belonging to that dishwasher that ran out on you a few months ago. They caught him and he confessed to everything. I’m making sure they press every charge they can AND paying back every penny we spent on repairs.’” There was a collective sigh of relief from the small crowd, but Chris just looked even more puzzled. He found my gaze and left his place beside Changbin to find me.

“Well, that’s a relief. Now you don’t have to tell them what you suspected about those guys. It’s not true.” He didn’t look any more pleased from that fact.

“Yeah, but…” He looked around again. “Something still doesn’t feel right.” 

“Why? What do you mean?” Puzzled, he tucked his bottom lip into his teeth.

“I don’t know… But I can’t shake the feeling.” 

“Well, we’ll just keep an eye on it, okay? The cops have him and until we have some hard evidence to believe that he’s not the guy who did this, we have to take them at their word for it. It’s not like we can do anything about it anyways.” 

“Maybe I just don’t want to believe it’s that easy.”

“Maybe you’re not used to the bad guys getting caught.” I replied without thinking. Scared, I turned to face him, an apology on my lips and ready to be spilled, but he wasn’t offended. No, he was nodding along, as if to say ‘fair point’.

“So now what do we do?” Jeongin asked innocently. 

“Now,” Minho replied. “We kill tomorrow’s dinner service.”

*

And kill it we did.

Minho’s father had a banner put up over the front door stating our ‘Grand Reopening’ and the people were lining up at the door, ready for us. Floods of compliments on the new decor from the regulars and the new customers excitedly announcing that it was their first time there. The new upscale makeover had drawn in the crowd Minho had always wanted and his reputation for high standards had been spread across town. It followed him when he went out that day to Felix’s cafe. 

“He said he needed help today so I just stopped by for a minute.”

Felix: Bullshit. I never asked him for help. He didn’t leave Beth’s side the whole 10 minutes he was here before I kicked him out. 

The new dishes had gone over so well that Minho decided to keep them all instead of just keeping them for the reopening. His plan was to see what sold well and boot the rest but everything sold so well that he had to keep it all. He didn’t make back all of the money he had been estimated to lose since closing the doors, but he predicted that he was well on his way. 

Chris told them all the story of his past when the night was over, saying he had been scared to tell them because he was convinced he was right. 

“The goons I used to work with are scary as shit. I didn’t want to put you guys in any more danger than you already were just by being near me. So it was better that you didn’t know.”

“But you could’ve told us, Chris. You didn’t have to be scared, we would’ve understood.” Changbin comforted him from the furthest seat. “We still wouldn’t have blamed you because it was never your fault. You did what you could.”

Felix just got up and hugged Chris, who accepted it right away. With Felix, there was no other way other than to accept it straight away. “I’m sorry for your loss, Chris. That guilt must still be weighing on you.”

“It still does.” I reached for his hand which he took gratefully. Han was quiet for what felt like the first time in his life, and Minho watched the others around him, having already known the story. 

“Thank you for telling us.” Seungmin said quietly, unsure of what to do next. He wasn’t one for physical comfort, but that job was already occupied by Felix. So he made sure that Chris knew that whatever he might need, Seungmin was there. 

“It’s weird. Sometimes you guys remind me of him. Little things you guys do are things that he used to do. I missed having little brothers.” 

And then was when Han broke out into a very dramatic wail. “CHRIIIISSSSSSS.” And he sprung up straight into Chris’ arms to cry on his shoulder. And the rest of the group rallied around them, dragging me along with them into the only group hug I had seen Minho not hate. 

I was feeling good about it all until they all eventually left, barely cleaning on their way out. I drew the short straw yet again so guess who was stuck cleaning?

“I’ll stay and help, don’t worry.” What a man, my boyfriend.

That word was still unfamiliar on my tongue in this context. Unfamiliar, but a rush of adrenaline still ran through me with every use. And I was tryng my best to pretend that it was totally fine that he was standing so close to me, washing the glasses behind the bar. He bumped my hip with his to break the comfortable silence we had fallen into in the empty restaurant. 

“What’re you thinking about?”

“I’m just really proud of you. For opening up about Daniel, coming clean when you didn’t have to. You’ve opened up about something very traumatic for you and I’m just proud that you trusted all of us enough to tell us.” Chris got quiet, the glint of something like sadness taking over his eyes again. “What?”

“Nothing.” He cast the sad smile downwards on the beer glass he was washing. 

“Hey.” I bumped his hip back. He glanced back at me. “I really like you.”

He retracted that sadness and giggled, the one that I felt in my soul. 

“I really like you too.” He looked at me like he wanted to say more, but didn’t. He just kissed me instead. 

After a night’s rest and a coffee from Felix’s cafe in hand, I took out my keys to unlock the front door. I was looking forward to having a moment to myself in the new space after the success of last night, and taking a look around for my own sake was high on my to-do list. Just to sit by myself in a booth and admire the work we had done to get here with a coffee in my hand was just what I wanted. So I waltzed in through the glass doors and locked the door behind me. I went over to the freshly cleaned bar to put down my bag to find a folded piece of paper laying innocently on the counter.

My Sparkle,

I hope by the time you read this, I’ll be home again. I couldn’t tell you this to your face or else I would crumble again. Because I know for you, I would Stay if you asked me to. 

But I have to go home to fix the mess I made. I never told you because I was scared of what they would say, but I reached out to my sister. Her reaction was the final push I needed to at least try. I think I would miss you too much to be gone for good. But I know it’s going to take a while, so I can’t say when I’ll be back.

Being here with you these past few months has given me so much that I will never be able to repay you for, so I won’t try to. But I know I have a lot to thank you for. The only thing I can do is appreciate what you’ve given me and hope to give it back when I come back home to you. 

I don’t want to keep carrying this when I don’t have to and it’s not fair for you to help me  when you don’t deserve it. I’ve been running for too long. I don’t want to run anymore. My only regret is not telling you the one truth that I’ve known all this time. 

I love you

I love you

I love you

-Puck 

*

“You’re still going?”

“Yeah. I have to. Hannah will kill me if I don’t go.”

“You don’t have to. She’s going to break down my door once she reads that.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for what you’re going to have to deal with. But I can’t tell her myself. I won’t go if I do.”

Silence.

“You love her that much?”

“With everything I have.”

fin.

[blackaquokat]

WELL, thanks to some motivation from @again-please , I'm finally going to make a formal post about my Astarion-mancer in Baldur's Gate 3!

Meet my Tav! (Whether I'm sticking with Tav or not is still up in the air, but I'm keeping it for now until I come up with a name that feels right.)

Tav used to run errands for her grifter parents, often providing a distraction while they pulled off a heist, and as she grew older, it became the other way around, because she was swift and nimble. So if she wasn't looking after her siblings, she was basically a breadwinner.

That is, until the day her parents and her attempted to run a con on a monastery by the Gray Harbor known as the Cradle of the Depths and when she was caught, her parents left her behind in their escape. The monks there did not press charges against her, but when she went back to her family's hideout, it was cleared out. Thus began a long period of time on the streets before the monks from the Cradle of the Depths found her again and decided to take her into their care.

Within the teachings of the Cradle of Depths and their embrace of the ocean and their reverence for the Dragon Turtle, she became one of their best students, a natural at combat and dexterity. However, that ability to find inner peace has always escaped her. She has a lot of anger and loneliness she's contending with and it's affected how she's made relationships over the years.

Something that's often remarked upon with Tav is how strangely celestial she looks, despite her infernal heritage. With night-blue skin and silver freckles and pitch black eyes that sometimes look like they contain flecks of starlight, it's made her an oddity even among the strangest of tieflings. Another thing that makes her wonder if the people who raised and abandoned her were truly her birth parents--

By the time the Nautoloid comes along and she's met the party, Tav is able to keep up at least a Pretense of seeming like a normal, at peace monk, if it weren't for her ruthless ability to barter for cheaper prices while shopping and rapid willingness to throw a punch when kids are in danger. Plus her tendency to meditate in the nearest bodies of water whenever possible, as per her training. The water is one of the few places where she truly feels inner peace. But it's always fleeting.

Anyway, the most important quote for understanding my Tav is also the inspiration for a thus-far drafted fic title about her:

“My whole being calls for an act of violence, but I still use velvet gloves.” 

—Anaïs Nin

Hope you all like her! I'm always down to talk about her if you'd like to send an ask!

[garbinge]

D&D Night

Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Day 04 from these April Prompts: “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you”

Summary: You might be friends with benefits with Eddie, but that doesn’t stop either of you from dating. Your date night goes from shitty to pretty fun thanks to the Munson boy. 

A/N: First time writing for Eddie, this was a WIP I had in my google docs for months and I decided to repurpose it for this prompt! 

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Alludes to smut and nudity. Cursing, and just a mix of angst and fluff?

Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

The morning was hazy, even with the sun being fully risen and the sound of birds chirping through the windows, you were so tired everything was a fog. You quietly moved into the small trailer’s shower and let the water heat up before fully stepping into the steamy tub. Every move was tip-toed or softened so as to not wake up the company in the place you frequently visited. 

The shower helped with the fogginess, your senses were more awakened and your body had literally warmed up as the hot water from the shower hit your skin. Just as you began to rinse off the soap suds, the curtain slid back and a shaggy haired man was stepping in to join you. 

“Jesus Christ, Eddie.” You clung to your heart as it raced from being startled. 

“G’mornin’ to you too, Model T.” He wore the shit eating grin with pride as you pushed him back playfully. The nickname he gave you rolled off his tongue with ease. You drove a red Ford Thunderbird, it was truly one of your prize possessions, Eddie knew that and that’s why ever since you got obsessed with the car he referred to you as Model T, Ford’s first ever car. His explanation was that Model T put the world on wheels and now that you had your own ford that you practically lived out of you had put your world on wheels. It was cheesy, but it was Eddie. 

“You suck.” You murmured before turning around and getting the rest of your body rinsed off. 

Eddie’s hands trailed their way up your back, rinsing the soap off. It was intimate, but that was the dynamic you shared rarely and privately. It wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t weird. It was you and Eddie. Best friends since your freshman year of highschool. The guy who stood up for you when you were being bullied and still would do anything for you. Anything. Especially now that you had been going on this friends with benefits situation for about two years now. What started out as one bored night of fucking around turned into a ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ situation. It didn’t bleed into your friendship, neither of you would let it. In fact, outside of this trailer no one would have even suspected. Everyone knew you two were friends, but considering Eddie flirted with anyone, it was easy to just assume it was a personality thing, along with the title ‘freak’. 

Eddie laughed as he rinsed the suds off you. “Didn’t mean to scare you, you're just taking forever.”

“And when did Eddie Munson get a hard on for punctuality?” You said turning around to face him, staring up into his brown eyes as beads of water jumped onto his damp shaggy hair. 

"Since you told me you’d come join Hellfire today.” He switched places with you, now being soaked entirely by the shower. 

“Motivation comes in the strangest of ways for you, Munson.” You started to move the curtain to step out of the shower and wrap yourself in a towel. 

“What are you up to after?” Eddie asked as you patted the towel around to pick up any dripping water. 

It was at that moment you realized you hadn’t told Eddie you had a date tonight. Which, to you, wasn't that big of a deal. You came to terms with the arrangement you and Eddie had days after it started. All of the fantasy and butterflies had since been blocked out by you. He made it very clear the situation you two shared. He went out on dates too, if you could even call them that. There had been multiple nights where Eddie left you hanging to go sell weed to girls and he would be gone for hours.

“I have a date.” You said nonchalantly as you wrapped the towel around your body and wiped the condensation off the mirror to get a look at yourself. 

Eddie was lucky that the curtain was between you, any sign of disappointment was hidden behind it. 

“Who's the lucky loser?” He called out, masking the dismay even more. 

“Blake Beckett.” 

The curtain pulled back rapidly and Eddie’s face filled with disgust. 

“Blake Beckett?” 

Blake had graduated a year before you had, and when Eddie was originally supposed to. He wasn’t popular, like a jock type, he wasn’t exactly a misfit either, but he definitely ran with the too cool for school crowd. 

“Yes, Blake Beckett.” You didn’t let him get in another word before you were retreating out of the bathroom and into his bedroom to get changed. 

Eddie tried to follow quickly behind you, wrapping up in the shower and immediately coming into the room to question your choices. 

“Blake Beckett is weird.” He said trying to level with you. 

“And what are we?” You asked, throwing your stuff into your backpack and pausing to motion your arms between the two of you. 

“We’re different.” Eddie shook his head in annoyance that he couldn’t get you to understand his point. “Blake is like lame, and he’s, he’s just lame.” Eddie stuttered. 

“Real convincing, Munson.” You rolled your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I gotta go.” And in a blink, you were making your way through the trailer, stopping for a brief second to grab a snack from the fridge and your keys from the counter before hopping down the stairs of the trailer house. 

As you put your keys into the door of your cherry red Ford Thunderbird to unlock it, you saw Eddie’s Uncle, Wayne, having a cigarette on the picnic table that sat just feet away from the trailer. 

“Hey Wayne!” You called out and waved. 

His head turned to look over at you and he smiled and nodded. 

“I should just build on an addition so you got a room of your own!” His smile widened. 

“Nah, I’ll take Eddie’s and we can just kick him to the couch. More affordable option!” Your hand pulled the handle open on the car and you leaned on it to continue the conversation with Wayne. 

“Always lookin’ out, where you headed to this early?” 

“You know, a little this and a little that,” Your eyebrows lifted up as you shrugged and hung over your car door. 

“A lady with mystery.” He chuckled. “You go on now, I’ll see you later tonight, I might break the grill out.” 

“It’ll just be you and Eddie, I won’t be here, I got a date!”

Wayne’s smile grew in a way that was humorous, he wasn’t stupid to what went on in his home, he gave Eddie his space, always had, but you were around so often and for so long even when nothing was happening Wayne had his suspicions. It was comedic to him to see you both in such denial over it. 

“Alright then, I’ll see ya when I see ya, good luck on that date.” His southern drawl coming out in his farewells. 

________

You stood in the payphone booth as the first ring filled your ears. Your eyes were cloudy with tears that you hadn’t let fall yet. A bad date was one thing, but one that was cut short and left you feeling this way was another. 

“Munson.” Eddie’s voice cut off your thoughts. 

“Please don’t say ‘I told you so’.” You said between sniffles as you held the phone to your ear and leaned back against the wall of the booth.

“Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.” He asked in the most serious voice. 

__________

Eddie was there in minutes to pick you up in his van. He didn’t ask you any questions about what happened, he didn’t push, he didn't pry. 

“You want me to take you home?” Was the only thing that came out of his mouth. 

“It’s Hellfire night right, end of your campaign?” You asked, looking over at him. “Let’s go.” 

______

You walked into the room, taking in all the lights and stage decorations that littered the walls and floor. It was a cool set up, the table was long and the chair at the head of the table was clearly for Eddie, it had a whole King Arthur vibe to it. 

“Holy shit, no way!” A tiny voice caused you to look behind you to see a curly headed boy with a trucker hat appeared. 

“This is Henderson.” Eddie pointed over to the kid who stood next to you. “Henderson, this is–” 

“Oh I know.” Dustin smiled his signature grin as he held his hand out to you. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you.” The enthusiasm in his voice made you feel special. “You’re Y/N. Graduated in ‘84. Top of your class, but you turned down the Valedictorian role, you took time off of college to take care of your parents but enrolled in Hawkins Community College this year. You play the guitar and your favorite band is Metallica.” Dustin was shaking your hand frantically and eagerly. 

You lifted your eyebrows up in awe, “Pleasure is all mine, Henderson.” You said trying to read the situation. 

“Dustin, please.” He released your hand, still smiling. 

“You stalkin’ me Dustin?” You couldn't hold back. 

“What?” He frowned at the question, “Oh, no. Eddie’s just talks about you a lot.” 

Eddie’s eyes went wide as Dustin spoke, embarrassed by his confession. 

“Does he?” You turned to look at Eddie who had gone from embarassed to calm in seconds as you turned your body. His hand playing with his hair in front of his mouth before he extended his arms out and began speaking to change the subject. 

“Welcome to Hellfire, Model T.” 

“Model T? She drives a ‘68 Thunderbird?” Dustin stepped forward. 

You and Eddie both spoke up to correct him at the same time, “‘69!”

“You’re fuckin’ with me.” Dustin tilted his head to the side in defeat with a little smirk on his face. 

“Are they allowed to curse?” Your head turned in question to Eddie. 

“Yes.”  He said which earned him an immediate response from Dustin. 

“HAH! Fuck yea! I knew I was right.” 

“No!” Eddie said, shaking his head as the confusion started. 

“Do you wash their mouths with soap or something?” You questioned as Dustin cursed again. 

“No, we are not bullshitting you.” Eddie gripped his hands together and leaned forward in a lunge towards Dustin as his two fingers pointed at him. “and yes they are allowed to curse.” His hands moved to point at you. 

A smile grew on your face as he straightened himself back up. “I like Hellfire.” 

“And the fun hasn’t even begun.” He smirked. 

————

The screams grew loud as the final dice roll happened, the 20 appearing slowly as the dice stopped rocking back and forth. The jumping and celebrating from the group shook the table as Eddie stood up. The smile on his face was contagious as he commemorated with everyone. You weren’t even playing and you felt the adrenaline rush come over you in that moment, forgetting about your shitty night just hours before this. 

As you stepped outside of the school, watching each one of the kids grab their bikes to make their journey home, you felt an arm get thrown over your shoulder. 

“How’d you like it, Model T?” Eddie asked as you started to walk towards his van. 

“It was really fun, I remember we played once or twice when I was in school but it was nothing like that, you got a good group.” You cuddled into his side. 

You both got up to the van and Eddie opened the door for you. “Munson, always the gentleman.” You teased him as you plopped into the passenger seat. 

“Want me to take you home?” He asked as he jumped into the driver seat and leaned forward to start the ignition. 

“Can I stay at yours tonight? Just– I think I could–” You started to trip on your words. 

“Don’t need an excuse to hang at my humble abode, I know my presence is oh, but a gift.” Eddie laughed as he started to back out of the spot, his arm extending on the back of your seat. 

The drive was yet again quiet, but you finally spoke up again once he parked in front of his house. 

“Can we smoke?” You asked without looking at him. 

“Sure.” He shrugged and jumped out of the van. He reached into the compartment that was on the side of the door and pulled out a joint and smiled as he wiggled it to show you. He was walking towards the picnic table when you jumped out of the van yourself and met up with him. 

The two of you sat next to eachother on the top of the table, passing the joint back and forth. 

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Eddie spoke as he inhaled his hit. 

“No.” You let out a chuckle disguised as a sniff. You could tell your response bothered him, but he did a really good job at hiding it. 

“He was lame.” A smile escaped from you as you looked up at him. 

His eyebrows raised and he leaned into you as he passed the joint. “Want me to beat him up?” 

“Yes. Yes Eddie. I want you to beat him up.” The sarcasm dripped off your tone. 

“Y’all kids wanna eat or keep smokin’ that nasty shit.” Wayne’s voice cut through your conversation and you both turned to look over your shoulder to see him standing in the door way of the trailer. “Yes, I’m talkin’ to you two!”

You both chuckled, taking the last few puffs before stepping on the joint before walking over to Wayne who was holding out a plate with 3 raw steaks and a bag of chips. 

“Now y’all take these and go back to the table, I’m gonna set up the grill.” He followed behind you two. 

It was nice, you could tell Wayne splurged on the steaks, the quality was unmatched. 

“How was your date?” Wayne asked mid bite. 

“Lame.” You turned to Eddie and smirked. It caused Wayne to smile as well. 

“Well I reckon it’s his loss and mine and Eddie’s gain.” He tried to cheer you up. 

“Thanks Wayne, and thanks for dinner it really means a lot.” 

“Anytime darlin’.” He took his last bite of steak. “Alright now, thanks for entertaining this old man, I’m goin’ to bed, don’t do anything stupid.” He was grabbing his plate and beer and retreating back to the house. 

“You wanna smoke again?” Eddie asked as he jumped back on the top of the table, his leg now sitting to the right of you. 

“Wayne told us NOT to do anything stupid.” 

“Who listens to a Munson anyway?” Eddie teased. 

“Certainly not me.” You teased him right back before he responded. 

“No, certainly not.”

[drabbles-mc]

Oooo Parental!!! For the Dirty A-Z headcanon game

A for Angel

miss ma'am. seeing these prompts and then purposely waiting to send them in is on-par with premeditated murder. i hope you're happy!!! 😂😂

Thoughts below the cut for: A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?)

i think that Single!Angel getting himself off and WifedUp!Angel getting himself off are two totally different men. 😌

Single!Angel totally watches porn. he'll use his imagination sometimes, but more often than not he knows he can find exactly what he's looking for within a few scrolls on a website. (unlike EZ, who i know in my heart of hearts he has made fun of for being the type of guy who makes it to page, like, 40, on pornhub before finding something that he'll watch more than the first 15 seconds of)

Single!Angel has definitely gotten into debates with the guys about porn vs imagination. he is definitely the type of dude who is like, "i was born with two hands because i only need one to hold a phone, and one to hold my dick" and he's not wrong but the guys do roast him for it. not that he cares. he goes home later and types the same old shit into the search bar.

WifedUp!Angel hardly ever watches porn anymore. at least. not anything from a website. the photos his girl has sent to his phone though? the stuff they've recorded together? whole other story. that he'll watch. that he'll look at and then actually be motivated enough to use his imagination a little bit. he does it when she's out for the night with her girlfriends. when she's off on a trip for work. when she's mad and holding out on him and that's when he'll send her a little something in return to try and end the embargo (and it almost always does)

the thought of using toys when he's by himself seems like the strangest thing to Angel until he gets a girl who's into it. he's not the first one who brings it up. he doesn't even agree the first time that his girl brings it up. but he does proceed to think about it after she does. and he thinks about the videos that she's sent him of her using toys when she's by herself and in his head he can't help but think, "alright damn she's having a good time so maybe..."

the first time toys get used on him at all are when she's there and doing it. the second time too. after that, though? he'll use them on his own and when she's not around. he sends her videos too, claiming that it's all for her anyway not that either of them buy that for even a second.

first time she comes home after getting one of those videos she walks into the bedroom with a cocky smirk on her face and a, "feel free to tell me that i was right whenever you want." it gets a scoff and an eyeroll out of angel but he's already got more shit in his cart ready to be shipped and delivered to the house.

girl i hope you're pleased with yourself 😂😂💖

Dirty Headcanon Game

[kse22chili]

Wuthering Heights

(This is a brief inspiration I had after reading Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte and after listening to Kate Bush' song.)

Oh! It's him! He's here!

Oh! It's him! He's here!

Oh! It's him! He's here!

Oh! It's him! He's here........

and so, the voices whispered near my ear...

It was a windy day, clouds were blocking the Sun's light, protecting our eyes from its lethal rays. The Rain was soon to come and English people were strangely "happy" for it to come. Grey engulfed their senses, the vain shades of color appearing frequently and the cold burning the tip of their nose, forcing their instincts to shoot out at fluttering around to find anything to use as a cover. After all this daily mundane suffering, they still loved these landscapes and the punishment that came with them.

I was hiding in the little corner of his office, shaking wildly. Trembles came out of everywhere.

He had the temper of one of Zeus' child, Ares. My former lover, Ares (yes, exactly him), was also overflowed with fury and rage, not really understanding where it came from. A God who loved battle, blood, competiton and anger. He fought until the end of it all, just like his father, that's why Zeus never preferred him as a child.

With me, he was a strange monster. You must wonder why would I think in such a way about a former lover... Well, he was not a human, nor an alien, he was a God. I'm saying this because at the beginning I didn't know what he was. When he started courting me, I hadn't noticed the immense love he had for me, which was unacceptable to me; how could a man love a woman thusly? He hadn't known me, nor had he ever seen me previously, even by mistake. I'm sure of it. Hence, my intuition told me that he was not a good sign, coming to me and confessing such a profound love. "And who do you think you are, behaving to such a degree without any further motivation?"

The strangest part was that he didn't even manage to show me his family, that enormous family of his, that he was so eager to introduce me to. But, I saw his mother in my dreams. Hera. That woman. That Goddess- The mother in law I couldn't be able to have.

She was caressing my hair and cheeks while fondly looking at me as if she created me with her own hands. Perhaps, she did. We could never know.

Hera was speaking to me, in a language I understood at that moment but once I woke up, I couldn't seem to remember a thing.

What happened next made me freeze to death, literally. She moved her hand, with the intention to caress my belly. I had no idea what she was trying to do at that time. While doing so, she raised her head, looking at me and smiling once again, in such a fondly way that even in real life I felt the tears starting to shed from my eyes. That explains the wet eyes and pillow I had once I woke up.

I woke up. Ares was by my side, sleeping soundly. I was shaking. Trembles were fluttering their way up my body. Ares, still deep in his sleep, he raised his arm up, gripped my hip and moved me to the inside of his hairy chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around me, he scooted his head in my neck and sighed with a warm breath making me shudder under him.

I'm a cold little woman who needs heat coming out of her "husbands" body, words and eyes.

It was all a sign, to tell me that something was going on.

On 2 June, a Sunday, he left and never came back. Where to go, I don't know. But my soul and energy reeked of him still, my inner witch, that was hidden in the profounds of the universe, searched for him like a desperate bitch.

He left on my birthday.

And I loved him wholly, even if he was a monster.

He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!

He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!

He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!

He's here! We want his heat! Let him burn us!

and so, the voices started once again...

Mars was his name. The man that came in my house and bribed me under his own fate.

Now I tremble wholly and my body needs my "husbands" heat. Where will I find it?

He comes to me. Every step he takes, I feel even colder than before. My body freezing, but my soul doesn't seem to shut up.

He is now so close to me that he could hear my heart beating.

"Xena, my love..." he whispers so softly that even I am bewildered at how I managed to hear it.

That name. "No. Don't say that name." he can't. How did he? He should be dead now. No human or other specie can ever utter that name.

"Xena... it's me. Look at me, please." he softly utters my name again.

He isn't dead. Why? How?

Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!

Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!

Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!

Ares! Lover! Come here! We're so cold!

I shake my head wildly. Why are they not shutting up? Why can you not understand that he left us? my voice echoes in my head silencing them. For now, because they started once again.

I look up. There he is. My Ares.

"Xena, it's me, Ares." he calls.

The voices were silent. His voice was exactly Ares' voice. But how-

"You aren't! Mars how? What are you- what are you trying to do?" my voice trembles from the cold I felt. He looked like my Ares and he was as tall as him. The unique height that only my husband had.

It can't be true.

"Xena... think about it. Why would someone be named Mars?" he questioned me, inviting me to think.

Mars. In Latin for the God of war, Ares. The one and only deity that had made such an imponent famous story throughout the archaic Rome.

While trembling from the cold, I raise my hands and caress my freezing cheeks; he managed to call me by my name without dying. He has the same features and physic as him. The name is exactly the same as his but in a different language.

So, it's truly him.

I remove my hands away from my face and I raise my head up, looking towards him. Tears come out of my eyes, flooding my entire sight.

"Ares?" I say in a meek voice, which I doubt he would hear if he'd have a normal hearing.

He just nods his head, "Xena. It's me, Ares. I've come home." he says whispering.

"Ares! It's you! You're here!" I call for him while tremendously shaking like a leaf.

He comes extremely close to me, grips me at the wrists and gets me up from my seated position, engulfing me in his arms.

His heat consumes me, making me feel whole again. My body and senses burn, finally having my lover back.

Fire eruptes from my sides, unleashing the beast I had been hiding for decades. My true self was with him now.

He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!

He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!

He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!

He's here! He's finally here!!!!!!!

and so, the voices resided in the profounds of Goddess' Xena.

This was the extraordinary love story of Ares and Xena.

K.M.

[tavyliasin]

Hello Darlings~ About time I dropped a little "about me" post to pin, right? Oh don't worry, I shan't bore you for long. My Carrd link there has a directory of all my fanfic works, giving you an overview of pairings, content, word count, and a little summary of each. I'm Tavylia Sin, or you may call me Tavylia, Lia, or Tavy, I'm not very fussy on that one, darlings~ My pronouns are she/her, and I'm a Cis Woman from the Nine Hells (or the UK, as it is otherwise known). If you'd like something a little more detailed about me, keep reading~

So, who in the nine hells am I, anyway?

Well, I'm a thirty-[vague coughing] year old creative writer. I've been writing other things, unpublished, for years now, but it was Baldur's Gate 3 that pulled me out of my shell and into the world of NSFW writing. So, I hadn't really written a single word of smut before late September 2023. In the month of October, I wrote over 80,000 words of it. I know, I am not sure how I did that either, but the passion took me and I didn't want to let go either, darlings, I was having too much fun. I still am!

What are your main works and pairings?

My first work was ATG, aka A Tav's Guide, or to give it the full and proper title: Of Living, Loving, and the Strangest of Bedfellows - A Tav's Guide to Fucking Across Faerun: Sordid Coast Edition A cautionary tale, loves, never let Volo name your work even if it is funny at the time! Anyway, ATG was meant to be a game-paralleling fun dive into how my Tav romanced Astarion but then still took every opportunity to indulge in lustful pleasures that was presented to her. There's some emotion in there, a reason to why she does who what she does, and although in many places I try to stick to canon there are plenty where I also deviate from it to find more fun~ I then started trying my hand at some non-ATG pairings and stories, indulging in a few One Shot stories as creative exercise and a few requests for people in the community. It has all kept growing from there! My favourites to write for are Haarlep and Raphael, as well as Astarion, Halsin, and Gale, though I'm honestly happy to give almost anything a try! I love trying to capture their authentic voices and find ways to stay true to their character motivations, or at least to twist them towards my sinful designs~ I'm also looking at writing more lesser-seen characters and pairings so watch this space.

What about Style? Tropes? Themes?

Darlings, most of my works will include some form of bondage, BDSM, powerplay, and kink. I find it all so very fun, and it can be gentle as well as intense, depending on the participants and the mood. I also write some occasional angst and fluff, when I'm not feeling the smut-fic flowing, and deeply enjoy exploring emotions. You'll find a lot of my writing runs long - even here, brevity is clearly not my strong suit! I enjoy longer dialogue, a build up to give context to the scene, and at least a little plot even to a One Shot scenario. When I really have fun with a piece, I just don't want it to end, really~ In terms of language, you may well find my works to be more verbose, and despite the topics I prefer to lean on softer terms and describe sensations and emotions more than the physical parts involved. I want you to be able to immerse into the scene, to let the feelings surround you and encompass you as the words flow from my page into your mind~ I adore reading other styles, but for some reason I struggle with writing certain words and phrases into my own pieces. So I find ways to be creative and still maintain the sex and the lust~ Whilst I might have some preferences in who I like to write for, or find some dynamics easier to write, I am also more than happy to write for suggested trans and nonbinary OCs, or if you asked me to write a canon character as trans or nonbinary I would love to try my very best to make your dreams come true~ It's a little disappointing we don't have trans/nonbinary main characters or NPCs in the canon, but of course fanfic can change that if you so wish. Incidentally, I always refer to Haarlep with they/them pronouns. This is what is used in the game from the Narrator, and also fits to how they are able to take on any physical form with little concern beyond what pleasure my be wrought from it. In my opinion, they have no interest in whatever "gender" is, unless it's some new sex move they haven't tried yet.

Have I seen you somewhere else?

Maybe darling~ I use this same name for Twitter, Tumblr, and Discord. Anything tied to my presence will use this same name, so that's how you'll find me. I'm most active in Galecord, where I adore playing with my fellow degenerates in the NSFW channels as we encourage each other with fic writing and art, enjoying each others work and gleefully sharing samples as we write too. My very dear darlings over there mean so very much to me, and have consistently been a voice of support that has fired me up to keep writing. Otherwise you might see me in a couple of others, like Tav1's performer's official server, but you'll rarely find me outside of NSFW zones. Indeed, the Tav'ern Babes discord is the only one I am in that is linked to any of the performers, because he doesn't seem to visit that area of the server. I would never wish to put my work where it isn't wanted nor personally push it towards any of the performers or game staff - if they find it themselves I'm more than happy for them to enjoy it (and will never want to know if they hate it, that might crush my soul), but it's here for us, the fans, to enjoy and play with as an extension to the game.

Questions?

You're welcome to drop me an ask, darlings, or to contact me through any of the links on my Carrd. If it's about my personal life though, sorry loves~ Part of what gives me the confidence to write and share NSFW works is the little layer of anonymity. I assure you though that my personality and platonic affections are entirely genuine, and I do intend anything nefarious~ I have been asked about KoFi or commissions once or twice, but fan fiction works should remain free to protect our right to keep making it. If I were being cheeky then I might suggest that I wouldn't turn down a gift voucher, but honestly I just enjoy being able to socialise and create within such a wonderful community. Some day I'll try and publish an original smutwork, make just a few pennies from it perhaps, to keep myself supplied with hot drinks and snacks while I curl up in my SmutCave tapping away at some new WIP that has seized my soul~

In short, loves, I'm a little bit like a sexy Batman. I'm the hero nobody asked for that turns up in the dark of the night, few know my secret identity, I have some wonderful accomplices in the Smutstice League (we're making that a thing as of this moment, right?) and I hope to make the world a better place in my own little way. By writing too much. The main difference? I'm not a millionaire/billionaire, and my fashion sense is just slightly better~

[vinxwatches]

watching disenchantment season 3

big spoilers. i recommend it a lot. it can be harrowing, but the ending is so worth it. if you might watch it i recommend you do. otherwise, lets delve in.

the intro promises the love pendant to be broken and the screwed crown to be bloodied. those are very bad signs even with the better ones. a book that on a page is a stairway down? holy shit stealing that for my DND campaign. was that a visual gag, or what that more future plot points? and Bean has the endless conflict between the life she wants and the people she cares about. too good of a person to have a simple easy life.

on the one side Mora is being more rude then usual. on the other her girlfriend did just say no to running of with her over friends she doesn't know. damn, with a girlfriend like that Bean with have powerful AF muscles in no time, truly hope that's the way they're taking this. beating her mom with the strength literally gained from her girlfriend would be just so beautifully cheesy. satan is going to become a goodguy just to get rid of his wife isn't he. damn, that 3d was pretty good. i mean if you know what to look for you notice that it's not the 2d models, but you need to know to look for it. there are definitely some potholes in this one. like the conflict between Bean and Nora if you think too much about certain events does not line up, but when you just take it like a normal person it really works. don't know if i like the people constantly splitting up, but it does allow for more things to happens. it's simply hard to have too many people act at the same time and certain people make others largely useless. Elfo doesn't have a lot do to when Bean is around. he fits in small things and can be easily motivated, but that's it, any other activity Bean is simply better at. he works as friend of Bean of course, but she's less reliant on others to take action now. split apart there are just more conflicts that can be interesting.

yea, ok, this conversation is painful. i mean i get that that's the joke, but it's painful because it seems like a stupid way i could come across if i stopped worrying about how things i say come across, something i in general worry too much about making friendships incredibly hard. "it's like they took a nunnery and made it awesome", ah, a lesbian bar. oh, how odd that they did the same thing twise. first with lucy and now with bad beans body. of all parts of the body that you should not be hanging from THE HEAD IS NUMBER ONE! but the overall plan makes sense, i wonder if it'll come to fruition in a more willing manor. also pretty avatar legends of Korra. oh those are working together, that's not good. that means Bean is really running out of allies. fucking hell, i'm trying to watch this while doing something else. i end up just watching it. and then it comes with these strong cliffhangers meaning that stopping to watch is also really hard.

oh... he's just dead... fuck... that... sets stakes. i mean Elfo and Luci will probably be fine, but this may be the death of Miri. well, that's one problem... delayed some more, and another... solved, and replaced for getting lost.

ok, so yes, Elfo's death set a lot of bad things into motion, undoing it also removed Mora and the great relationship Bean has with Zog, if you could ask Bean it would be a hard question. OH, that's a fun plot twist. Miri isn't human? oh. that... well it explains nothing, but it's neat.

oh, she's finally allowed to start seriously winning. it really feels like an earned powerup. in part because it has been set up well, in other because FUCKING HELL LET HER BE HAPPY DAMNIT. oh. i thought they were allowed to get away to, idk, be a minibos later. nope, instead killed to set up some evilness.

oh. making her sound mad. yea, not a joke i think works in universe. like there's one fuck setting with a non mechanical function metal prosthetic. yes i know my immersion is broken by the strangest things but it's bugging me. damn, setting up something heavy, destroy yourself the saves the ones you love? i mean media in general says "do it and for your good deed you'll survive", but i'm afraid they won't do that here. it's either better, or much, much worse. maybe a reset and you get to rebuild your life, but i'm not fan of those endings either. don't undo everything we've grown to care about, even if it can be rebuild. one is planning to kill, the other is planning to delete.

everyone's coming together for (hopefully) the final finally. oh, the tune return. i wonder if there's a meaning to it or if it's just creepy for creepy sake. fuck this battle has some epic moments. i mean there's only so much you can do with the animation style, but fuck they truly do everything possible with it. NO, you can't do that. healing magic? not real? i was fearing that, the scene seemed awfully similar before. DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE END IT LIKE THAT!

yea, no, obviously there's no care left. for episodes it was set up she cared most for Mora. the show has struggled at times to set things up, Beans magic, was probably the only thing set up more. the only motivation could be the same as Dracula in the castlevania show: a long suicide. a rocket, to the moon? why though? well fuck, now everyone is dying. i'm hoping not permanently, but i don't trust it isn't. :O he killed god "love conquers everything, and anger helps"

goodbye Bean is not a promising title, especially after the last episodes cliffhanger. AND NO i will not be ok with Bean and Mora being together in heaven. oh, magic came from the tears of joy of angers mixed with steam from hell. what will tears of sadness do? i just realized what i want: i want dangmar to have a third act breakdown finally. i love Luci's arc. it has totally nothing to do with that i wrote his speech multiple times already in less elegant words. "i've always hated weddings, especially my own" the show has such good lines. not the gay wedding i was expecting, but still one i'm very happy about. i love an overly happy ending. finally a happy ending, it was such a long wait, but it was worth it. YES, finally the third act breakdown.

wait... but the world is flat. so how it it on the other side of the moon? also what a random reveal. it adds nothing, it takes nothing away. it's "what a twist!"

incredibly unbelievable happy ending. I LOVE IT!!! literally every plot point is is resolved, even the ones even i forgot about.

seriously the show had a lot of frustration to it, victories often fell flat, setbacks and defeats were often and big, and as someone who likes happy endings it was often dreadful. honestly i don't know why i kept watching. i guess just something made clear they had plans. sure, details about people plans seemed often not fully planned out in advance, but the arcs of characters? those were old, and they revealed they were working up to the happy ending i was after for so long. Really good series, highly recommend, fuck me if it can't be harrowing, which is why i'm writing it at 2 am because i needed to get to the end.

and i finally got the best way to describe it: the show is cynical, but not pessimistic.

[aconflagrationofmyown]

How did you become such a good writer? You have an amazing imagination and such a way with words that really makes me feel like "oh shit, I'm physically in the world of this book experiencing what the characters are." You write like nobody else I have seen in the Elvis fanficdom (I truly mean that) and I am humbled by your talent.

Please tell me a little more about your writing process! I hope to one day write even half as good as you.

(Also I need you to continue the Elvis x Godfather AU fic, kthx. Pretty please? I will even help you with Italian dialogue, lol. I'll do anything for it. Here, take my firstborn. :P )

Oh my darling, this is a downright humbling ask. Between insecurity and imposter syndrome, it’s a wonder I manage to keep enough words from being deleted that I’ve actually got series of fics in progress. 🥶 So truly, I’m astounded and touched by your compliments and I adore chatting writing, so let’s see if some rambling of thoughts will be of any aid to you. 🌹 I just snuck a peak at your current fic (forgive me that I’m not in a season where I am reading much, it’s nothing personal, just business that is currently keeping me from exploring more) and I was immediately sucked in by how gorgeously you describe action? It’s poetic yet not overburdened, the way you write people’s movements and elements moving, makes me envy you that. I often feel my descriptions are quite Spartan most the time, so hearing it mentioned as transporting is always a surprise. I don’t think of it as my strong suite. I’ve no real notion how to write a kiss, for instance. Ha.

So, stories…They come to me usually as intriguing beginnings, with an occasional outpost of a stellar scene or two in the middle, and then the muses sit back and cackle like malicious banshees as I beg them for an ending. So, most of my stories are started in faith, often abandoned halfway through, as no clear ending comes. But so far in this fandom I’ve made the most progress and due to the help of this community of friends, I actually have a plot end for both my works. I know some people think of an end and concoct plots around them, and for some it all seems to come at once. And then there’s me with the beginnings and no road map. Which camp do you consider yourself to be in? 😃

And then there’s the work of plotting and outlining which I wish I was better at, as it appeals to me. But the minute I do it, all creative force dies within me. So it’s all buried in my lil noggin for safe keeping until the time comes to write the chapter. What I do plan out, however, is an emotional arc to a story, and a redemption/devolution plot for each main character. Knowing what growth I want to happen when, and what setbacks occur at what times has given me the strangest freedom of settings to accomplish it in -often none I would have plotted out intentionally. But that way I’m not forcing my relationship to grow in the confines of my plot, but rather my plot is the vehicle for the relationship to form and grow. I adore motifs, and I try to pay attention to how they appear in real life. I believe life is very subtly cyclical and the stories that ring truest to me are likewise.

I have a nasty habit in real life of observing everything like it’s witting material. Long before I started writing, I used to feel rather like a detached observer of other people’s reactions to life. It made me notice types of people, and while you can’t peg folks (much as I find personality tests a rather fun attempt) I do hold fast to the fact that in a story, if someone changes for worse or better, if they react for worse or better, it needs to be in character. It’s amazing how much this little detail can help something feel real. You can have a character fail, but if they fail in a way that doesn’t ring true to what we know of them and their motivations, it’ll feel like unnecessary drama to me. Does that make sense? Likewise with the victories -which victories will mean much or little to them? Does it ring true as being fully what they’ve always worked for? And who are they working for? Their own happiness and success? Or do they find more satisfaction in aiding others to reach the summit? Anyway, watching and identifying types of people and keeping those traits consistent on paper is easier said than done, as I’m learning every day. 😂

Lastly, (I suppose) I’d credit any vocabulary, thematic potency and rich setting to the sheer amount of old books and songs I’ve grown up immersed in. My favorite authors are Stevenson, Dumas and Mitchell. All of them set their stories in the middle of massive, world-changing events, yet their stories remained personal. Culture and necessity shape a person as much as taste and upbringing or anything else, and it’s a delight to try to immerse myself in a world different from my own. Basic goodness and basic evil may always remain, but the shades of grey and the loved ones getting caught in events far more powerful than their own strengths and best intentions yet trying their utmost to do well in the times they have been placed in: those are the stories and themes I adore the most in songs and literature. And they’re starkly abundant in dear Elvis’ near mythic life arc. So, here I am weaving tales about what could have been. 🥹

My messages are always open for a grand ole chat about writing, if you ever wanna pop in. I love you dearly and appreciate you so much. And The Godfather AU?! Oh how it has my heart still! I’ll totally take you up on the dialogue and any other suggestions you have that might ignite the smoldering concept. 😘

[whoever-the-heck]

On Daisy Jones and The Six

I love books and tv shows and movies that make me question my morals and have me rethinking my life principles. This is one of the reasons why I really loved the book Daisy Jones and The Six even before it became super mainstream. Ahh, the character development! The clashing motivations - morality stopped being either/or and became a spectrum of rightness and wrongness. The unique format is so refreshing too, and it didn't hurt that it had a gripping storyline that switched from being a mystery about rock and roll band abruptly dissolving at the height of its fame to being all about the complicated human relationships that fueled both its success and downfall. I am still so happy I read it without any idea about it going in (recommended by a boss, so I wished to impress, ha) because it surprised me in the best way possible.

Best of all, I have really complicated feelings about Daisy, Billy and Camilla - and I still enjoy analyzing those feelings to this day especially with tv show out.

Each of them has a very strong personality, and I already kind of saw it coming that the three of them together was bound to implode one way or another; there was just no way they could coexist in the same circle for long.

Something - or someone - has got to give, was what I thought.

Camilla loved Billy, yes, but her motivations ran deeper than that. Above all, she loved herself. She simply had to get her due - she felt that she had earned her ideal life, and she would have it at whatever cost because she deserved it. Billy was part of that ideal, partly because she stuck with him through thick and thin, partly because his being a changed man (sober) was largely due to her. Without her, he was nothing. And Camilla knew it very well.

In short, he was in her possession.

Billy loved Camilla. No question about it. He had been crazy about her from the beginning. Then he let himself get carried away by fear of being tied down and of fatherhood that he resolved to drop to his lowest so she would cut him loose, thus freeing him. But she didn't do that! She gave him a chance and a choice, and he chose to get better and stay on the right lane for her and their family. Because of that commitment, he was saved - from being wasted away, from becoming his father. She became his guiding light and his strength.

In short, he was indebted to her.

Daisy's love was... drugs. Then she met Billy. Her match in every way. Creatively, passionately, intellectually. They couldn't be more different, yet they couldn't be more alike. For the first time she encountered someone on her wavelength, someone who could actually handle her, and not just <i>handle</i> her. He respected her talent, he celebrated it, he helped her discover more depths to it, and never resented her for it. Not only that - he also understood her addiction. It was only a matter of time before she fell for him deeply and hopelessly, incredibly aware of his unavailability and his unwavering commitment to his wife and children. But could she give him up? When he was <i>it</i> for her?

And now the strangest thing and perhaps the most painful question. What was Daisy to Billy? Did he love her? Like, really love her? Or was that just lust? Desire for the unattainable? Desire for what he couldn't have - like the booze/drugs lifestyle he gave up for his family?

Daisy was not an alternative to Camilla, but the alternate version of himself.

She was what he could be when he's... not sober.

So was Billy in love with her or did he only see himself in her? Was she a temptation to his heart, or to his addiction?

In that triangle, it was always Daisy who was the loser. While Camilla and Billy loved each other and Daisy loved Billy, Billy's feelings for Daisy had been obscure.

But ultimately, it was not Daisy - it was Billy. Billy had always been the weakest link between the three of them. He was always going to be the one who would eventually give in, and Camilla knew that. So she stepped up and told Daisy to walk.

Time would eventually give Billy a wider perspective, allowing him to dissect his feelings for Daisy without the haze of booze and drugs in the forefront of his mind.

But poor Daisy never quite got the amount of love she gave.

This is why the TV show is working for me. It has a different take on this dynamic, balancing out the triangle, although it never quite portrays Billy's love and indebtedness to Camilla correctly or even remotely similar to the book. I want to see that take shape. I want them to show Billy's complicated feelings about Daisy, that it's not simply just lust or love for her as a woman. And I want to see Daisy's hopelessness when it came to Billy.

Jury's still out!

[nebulousfishgills]

let's talk about Diplopia!

what prompted you to write it initially? How did you come up with the idea to have them cross into another dimension? Why Twilight and not another of JCB's roles, like Shadowhunters or Sweeney Todd?

would you write another universe-crossing fic like that, either still with JCB or with other actors?

what was your favorite chapter or scene to write in Diplopia? Was there a scene you especially struggled with? Did writing it come in bursts of inspiration or a continuous stream of motivation? Or with the idea, was it a bolt of inspiration or a gradual build?

If, instead of Emily, you'd chosen to create a new OC to complement Caius, what characteristics would you give them? (Emily is fantastic and I love how she works into the story, but I'm curious to see what a "from scratch" Twilight OC would look like)

Do you like Emily's relationship with Henry or Caius better? Which relationship does SHE like better? Does she ever regret leaving Henry behind? If she were to encounter another of their "doppelgangers" (Jace Wayland, Anthony Hope), would she consider a relationship there too?

Ah yes, the strangest thing I've ever written that turned into one of my most complex fics to date... yes, let's absolutely talk about it! Thanks for the ask!

There will be more shitposts because I want to share my stupidity.

How it Began

I think most people know that I hadn't ever planned on touching Twilight with a thirty nine and a half foot pole. I'd grown up hearing about how god awful it was and that it had no redeeming qualities. For god's sake, the final battle never even actually happened! What are the stakes?? What's the point??

Then, of course, Summer of 2022 comes along and we all know what came with it. The further I fell down that rabbit hole, I came to realize that the pretty (fucked up) blonde I was starting to get eyes for... also happened to be in Twilight, among other things. I told myself, quote, "I'm not breaking my No Twilight streak over this."

Then, my roommate and I made the executive decision to celebrate our first week of college by watching Twilight since neither of us ever had. That was a very strange week and I remember having mixed emotions watching all five movies... the main one I remember was watching New Moon and then realizing that this is where that one meme came from:

Fast forward to that Sunday, I had finished Breaking Dawn (roommate dropped out after New Moon, I don't blame them) and was ready to move on with my life. But of course I can't leave well-enough alone. I was talking with a friend over snapchat about just how awful the movies were, providing examples such as the horrid cgi used when Caius' fake death happens and the Denali's rip his jaw off (I'll spare you the imagery). This friend knew about Emily and was very enthusiastic about her, and that's when this happened:

So that's how it was born. A friend from high school theatre gave me the idea, and it all went back to the arson. In fact, she gave me the idea for the fact that Emily had red eyes at this point in time could be a consideration.

The very original idea I had was a lot less serious and more goofy than it actually ended up being. In fact, one of my very first incarnations of the idea was essentially akin to (and this is such a niche reference) the Goof Off from that one episode of My Little Pony where Pinkie Pie and Weird Al try to one up each other to win over Rainbow Dash to prove who's the better Party Pony:

Except, of course, it's Caius and Henry trying to one-up each other to impress Emily. A flower, new clothes, human souls, arson, you get the picture. And Eddie was always going to be there to bear witness to this insanity, keeping essentially a tally of who was "winning" this asenine contest.

Of course, however, a fic like this needed research. I know, it wasn't supposed to be taken super seriously and I could have probably gotten away with using the bare minimum characterization and knowledge the movies gave me, but I don't know how to half ass fics. So, I just opened the wikis and started reading. The information I discovered was... actually a lot more fascinating than I had expected. In fact it taught me more than I had thought to ask.

I remember laughing stupidly hard at Marcus' "death" because I genuinely thought he was just so over everyone's shit that he was like "thank fuck get me away from these weirdos" but NO, this dude's story is so fucking tragic I sort of feel bad for finding that scene as funny as I do. That, and I realized that my central focus, Caius, was just a, quote, "Trigger Happy Wife Guy" who just wasn't fully realized... which of course brought up said wife, but that's a later issue.

Armed with more knowledge, I needed to figure out how this was supposed to go. I couldn't just plop Henry, Emily, and Eddie in Volterra and have this pseudo Goof Off without rhyme or reason. How did we get there, how did this happen, why did this happen, and so on.

I can't put into words how far this fell from my original dumb idea. I repeatedly say even now that the original joke got lost in translation along the way. The primary source of comedy was supposed to be these two guys with almost identical faces fighting over Emily... and then that posed the question. Why would Emily even consider Caius at all? It's a contest of who's in theory the better lover, but why would Emily give Caius any thought other than the uncanny resemblance and maybe the shallow, superficial gifts he could give her?

Answering this question in the place where all my big writing ideas come from (the shower) could arguably be considered my biggest mistake/triumph.

She and Henry had to get into some kind of fight.

It took me a while to figure out what that was about, but eventually the 'joke' helped me figure it out. Diplopia (I was always proud of the cleverness of the title. It's the medical term for having double vision/seeing double) takes place after the events of Stranger Things 4, so by all rights Henry should look like Vecna, right? No, because then the joke wouldn't land the same way. So, you know, for the sake of the story I came up with an explanation. Consuming enough human souls allowed Henry to shed this gross, viney, fleshy skin, which probably meant Emily not only had to work double time to help the effort, but give up sustenance she could have used. Then it all just fell into place, her insecurities about her own Upside-Down modifications, some simmering issues in their relationship they hadn't dealt with, all that shit.

And suddenly pure comedy turned into an angsty valliant effort on Henry's part to win Emily back because he accidentally fucked up. There are still elements of the original idea in the fic, the gifts Caius gives Emily when she's giving Henry the silent treatment, and the tally board Eddie uses is seen when they're trying to figure out how Henry can fix his oopsie...

Which leads me to the fact that the very original one shot I had uploaded to my Stranger Things one-shots book on Wattpad had a different ending.

(Side note, my character arc has been all but abandoning Wattpad except as a means to store drafts. Friendship ended with Wattpad, now AO3 is my new best friend. It only took so long because of interface familiarity; I stopped reading any fics on there aside from my friends' years ago)

Originally, Emily realized all the effort Henry was going through to make her happy again was proof he was the one who knew her the best, her perfect match despite the fact that Caius provided her things she could also find the appeal in... and then I decided to be cheeky and say the entire one shot was a vision Emily had like how Breaking Dawn 2 ended. Armed with foresight, she could decline Caius' offer for them to stay for dinner and she and her two companions could just go home.

So I posted it and left it alone for about... three months.

Then I watched Breaking Dawn 2 again with, actually, @ohitshoneybee and before I knew it, I felt the familiar horrible tendrils forming.

A new hyperfixation.

Of course, before this I had once in a while thought about what would have happened if Emily had just... decided to stay with Caius, but I never went much further with it than small ideas. But NOPE, my stupid ass decided to write a whole continuation that went through all the movies just to see how they would change if Emily became a factor. That became a small winter break project, writing what I called "The Director's Cut" and posting it to an untagged story on Wattpad because originally I just wanted close friends to read it.

This allowed me to get more extensive and creative with the lore. I had The Wife Problem to deal with, sure, but I fixed that quickly and then could proceed with fully weaving Emily into this... frankly mediocre story and making my own improvements (namely trying to make Bella seem less... you know, flat faced and stupid by making her knowledgable about Hawkins, for example). Now Emily could wreck shop and I could get revenge on the franchise that had begun to ruin my life by taking a fat piss on it and putting my OC into it to make it better.

That original version of the longer story had multiple endings, like video games. A Bad Ending, A Neutral Ending, and a Good Ending. The Bad Ending was basically if Alice's vision was a reality and Emily really had lost Caius, the asshole she gave up everything for... it doesn't end well for anyone, lemme tell you. The Neutral Ending was the closest to the movie, the entire battle being a vision and the Volturi just walk away (not without complaints from Emily and Caius of course)... and then because I really wanted to be an asshole, suddenly Emily woke up back in the Upside Down, none of it having ever happened in the first place.

Once I finished the full story, I waited a bit and then decided I'd be brave and not only upload it to Archive of Our Own, but clean it up and try my hand at smut since I figured I was about to turn 19 and I'd wanted to put on big girl shoes for a while at that point... of course it had to be this fic, but you know. I chose to just use my original Good Ending since I had always viewed that as the "canonical" ending, with the Volturi kicking Cullen ass.

So, now here we are, several months later, and I have a sequel in the works. What started as an idea for a comedy one shot has now become arguably my most notable fanfic series with emotional gut punches and general weirdness.

And that's that.

So, that was a lot, but let's keep going with your other questions.

Why Caius?

I can't really provide an honest reason that sounds clever or complex. It's not like I spent hours deciding to go this route out of several others. I suppose the least complicated way to put it is just that Twilight was my first step into branching out to Jamie's other works and the idea grew because of that specifically. Diplopia was always written to make fun of Twilight and because I noticed that both Caius and Emily had this shared trait of liking fire. That's literally it.

Also I think one of the other reasons was the slowly budding desire to expand upon these characters that Stephenie Meyer, frankly, half assed. I've had the discussion with many people about the wasted potential these characters had and how I, in particular, take offense to it beyond the superficial reason that I think Jamie's more talented than such a one note character like Caius was written like displays.

The Volturi is literally a coven of dramatic, theatre kid, art and science nerds that also happen to enforce vampire laws. Since they stand in opposition to the Cullens, naturally that makes them The Bad Guys since what kind of Monster would stand in the way of Bella's happiness? So why should they get any depth?

Thing is, the few traits Meyer gave to the Volturi are traits that describe me exactly. She created the bones for characters that seem specifically curaited to me and my tastes. So their lack of depth and information bothers me excessively because I want to know more and she won't give me that information.

I'm serious, this is part of Caius' page in the Official Guide Book she wrote herself

"Sometime before 1300 BC" "Unknown" "Unknown" Ma'am this is your official guide book that has everything one needs to know about your series, you can fill in these unknown dates! Not to mention the utter lack of respect she gives the wives. They get ONE sentence, and it just says who they're married to.

Stephenie Meyer, you named Caius' wife after Athena (side note, always been my favorite of the Greek Pantheon, another reason I feel a very strong connection with these characters), she's obviously a badass, not a trophy wife who gets high.

A pet project I wanna start is to write my own guide book about the Volturi using the bones she gave, but adding my own ideas, giving these characters depth, including ideas from fics and blogs that also feel the same way as I do.

All this to say, aside from the main reason I gave, I chose Caius because, in a sense, he and his wacky, weird coven chose me. I feel very protective over these characters and I want to give them their dues. I don't claim to be the ultimate say in this since I'm a baby in the fandom and others have wonderful ideas I subscribe to, not the other way around. But still.

Other Universes?

I don't want to rule out the possibility, but Diplopia/Necrosis really feels like a one-of-a-kind phenomenon. I don't think the same effect could be felt if, say, they ran into Alicent Hightower for some reason.

(Ironic, considering I did actually find a fic shipping Alicent with the Three Stooges Kings... unfortunately it's written in Spanish soooo...)

This has been a trope I've liked to at least play with a little bit in the past, though. I remember a long time ago I thought it'd be a funny idea if my Avengers OC ran into Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak, a character played by Tom Hiddleston aka Loki (who she's shipped with). I never did anything with it beyond a few texts with a friend discussing the idea of Olivia and Edith duking it out.

However as of right now, I don't really forsee another forray into the Doppleganger Crossover realm anytime soon.

The Actual Writing

Favorite Scene/Chapter - Honestly I love many scenes in this fic for many different reasons. There was a certain satisfaction that came with writing Henry and Emily's big arguement and inserting Emily into the events of the actual series was wildly fun.

Although I think my favorite scenes to write in this story are as of yet unpublished scenes in its sequel, Necrosis, that I can't talk about for spoiler reasons but have been written because I'm impatient. There are two chapters in particular there that I'm immensely proud of, one where Emily is a complete girlboss and the immediate aftermath where she has a long talk with another character about her past, why she did what she did in the previous chapter, and her feelings about everything she's done as a whole, it's a very touching scene...

That's probably cheating, though, so for the sanctity of the question, I think my favorite scene in Diplopia is either the scene where the secretary has to find plane tickets to get the coven to the Cullens and the computer is infuriating everyone or the scene where Caius and Emily are talking, ah, "post coitus" about their pasts and, specifically, what happened to Athenodora.

Struggles - The smut, for one, since I'd never written smut to actually post before, and I hadn't even written anything smutty at all in a very long time. I'm getting more comfortable with it since it's something I want to include in my writing, this one in particular. It just takes me a whiiiiiile to hype myself up enough to do it. Plus, I know there's the question of whether smut is "necessary for the plot," but trust me, for Necrosis in particular any spicy scenes are important. The reason why will become more obvious as the story progresses.

Also, writing Henry and Emily's goodbye was extremely hard. I'm very protective of them and their relationship and it's something that's very important to me. I think the goodbye made the situation more real to me. I wanted to do it because then I could move on to the fun stuff later in the story, but that scene was very hard on me emotionally. I suppose that brings up the question as to why I did this in the first place, but the only real answer I can give is "shits and giggles." I'm not ashamed to admit I was crying while writing it, and the fact that "Slipping Through My Fingers" from Mamma Mia happened to come up on my shuffle while it was happening...

Motivation - The motivation was strange for sure. Nine times out of ten when I write my fics the motivation to write comes in bursts after days or even weeks being absent. Diplopia was no different. I remember it took me a while to get the original one shot done, but that wasn't necessarily a motivation issue, more like a... "once I go through with this, I can't go back, I'll have officially written Twilight fanfiction" and it was... kind of a battle to come to terms with that, and then overcoming my motivation wave.

This also brings up how I plan my fics... usually I don't plan aside from mentally, but for this one, once I decided to go full send on the Director's Cut, I knew I had to somewhat shape what I wanted to do and have it written down. So I started my trend of writing long messages to myself on a Discord server with only me in it devoted to sending myself stuff or writing down ideas. There are pages worth of notes on Diplopia and Necrosis in there. And when I get more ideas, I just add to it. The idea train never stops with me.

Emily vs. Another OC

Being honest, there were a few times where I had an errant thought or two about coming up with a whole new OC to ship with Caius aside from Emily. I never went anywhere with it other than an idea or two about a backstory or a personality, though, and I don't plan on going further than that. Here's why.

By far, Emily is my most developed, well-rounded OC. As a Twilight OC, she has an entire, fully fleshed out backstory that comes from her "past" as a Stranger Things OC. She works incredibly well as a match for Henry, but she's also very compatable with Caius. My ability to ship her with both of them very seamlessly just feels natural and my best route to go with. For all intents and purposes, Emily is my OC for Twilight just as much as she is my OC for Stranger Things.

The only thing I can think of that makes her Stranger Things ties... we'll say stronger is that she can exist as a Stranger Things character without her additional Twilight lore, but she cannot exist as a Twilight OC without at the very least her base level Stranger Things lore...

I say "base level" and I mean basically everything up until she meets Henry (so her mother giving her up, her shitty orphanage she eventually runs away from etc). I have another one shot planned where Emily manages to avoid the trauma of HNL entirely and skips right to Italy with Caius... and an additional detail but that's another conversation.

So, wouldn't it be easier to come up with a whole new OC without those Hawkins ties?

Well, maybe, but the thing is that she wouldn't be nearly as developed as I would like. And I feel like at a certain point she'd just feel like Emily, just without the baggage. It's just not in my interest to do such a thing.

However.

There are some ideas that I have that just don't quite work with Emily. She's so developed that there are things that just aren't in character for her. Her personality and presence is so unique that at a certain point there's no room for additional base level nuance. She can only change slightly with a "hypothetical" character development, and emphasis on the "slightly."

But you know who could benefit from this base level nuance that Emily can't use? Who is in desperate need of some filling to her character?

Athenodora.

Let's get something clear, Thena is Stephenie Meyer's character, I'm not saying I'm just straight up stealing her character and calling it an OC. But remember how I said I wanted to make it a project to expand upon these near empty husks of characters with my own ideas and headcanons?

All the traits I can't use with Emily I could in theory give to my revamp (no pun intended) of Athenodora. I mentioned a few asks ago how I had a one shot idea cooking that doesn't involve Emily. That one shot is basically going to be me writing out Athenodora's story. Who she was before, where she came from, how she was turned, how she met Caius, and so on. All the stuffing that could have gone into a half assed OC can be added to Thena, a character with bones who needs meat.

So, tl;dr, Emily is the defacto Twilight OC for me, but any and all energy that I could hypothetically put into a from-scratch character would be much better utilized in giving substance to a character that needs it much more.

Team Henry vs. Team Caius

Oh boy! Well, this is the real question for sure. I knew at some point I'd be asked for my opinion on the matter. And after a long, hard debate with myself, my answer is...

I can't pick.

I know, it's such a cop-out answer, but I genuinely cannot decide who's the better match for Emily at the end of the day. It's a cliché but it's like asking me to pick a favorite child. They both have pros and cons, and it's a completely subjective opinion based on the individual which of those pros and cons hold more weight. For example, I know you seem to prefer Emily with Henry for any number of reasons, meanwhile my best friend has a certain preference for her being with Caius for other reasons.

In an ironic twist, this is my Team Edward or Team Jacob in more than just the love triangle object. When it came to Bella, Jacob was the childhood friend who came with what was familiar and Edward was the vampire who came with the family that Bella had lacked to a certain degree.

Sound familiar?

For me, my preference changes with my mood on the situation, and that mood can change in seconds, back and forth.

Sometimes I re-read His Tenebris Moenibus or the other associated one shots and I feel like the absolute worst for taking away, quote, "the only thing [Henry's] ever loved" and how he wants to reshape the world for both of them just so he can make Emily truly happy because of that love he has for her. And I made her break it off with this man because I got the urge to create chaos?? The trauma bonding, the shared goals and ideas, the willingness to literally destroy the world for each other, it's endearing.

And then I take a look at the other side of things. I sometimes forget the base level circumstances as to how this happened in the first place because, to me, Emily falling in love with Caius also has a certain natural way about it. It feels like a legitament, viable option. Similar to Emily and Henry, they're damaged individuals who help each other essentially patch each other up. I think the only reason this fact can fall through is the fact that I just haven't been able to show just how badly Thena's death had affected Caius before Emily showed up since one, the aforementioned under-developing of their characters and relationship by proxy, and two, it's very hard to not only create that from scratch, but blend that in when I have to balance so many other more important plot threads.

Not only that, but as I said, Caius came with a family, something Emily's been without but secretly longed for. She has so many siblings and friends, "more than [she] know[s] what to do with," who help support her and provide a different sort of love to her. Aro's her strange older brother who she fights with, sure, but also sees somewhat of herself in (namely the fact that they're both batshit insane at times and have... spotty pasts). Sulpicia's her matronly sister who in many ways is a rock for Emily to keep her from going too wild, but also can act as another woman who can understand her. Marcus is... just there, unfortunately. He has his own issues and typically Emily's too haywire to pay much attention to him.

And the Guard of course! Her relationship with Jane is I think what Emily wanted her relationship with Eleven to be like. Even if Jane is much older technically, their older/younger sister type bond is incredibly special to Emily, Alec is just a bonus. And we have characters like Heidi, who help Emily branch out and be her own unique self or even yet unseen dynamics with Felix or Demetri. It's a whole support system and Caius is just the cherry on top, someone who genuinely cares for her and wants her to be her best self... even if they light things on fire along the way.

Now as for what Emily thinks...

I think like me, she's not entirely sure who she truly prefers at the end of the day. She knows and understands everything that I said a second ago, just much more personally which makes it an even harder choice.

What I do know is that she never regrets the relationships she had with either of them. She knows they both provided things she needed and she helped them in her own ways as well. Though, and I've said this before, when Emily's with Caius, a small part of her always will long for Henry because of the fact that she's essentially frozen in time still feeling that love for him. Nothing is going to change that. So by proxy sometimes she feels regret for leaving him, but that's not mutually exclusive to also regreting her relationship with Caius. She can regret leaving Henry while also being very happy as she is with Caius at the same time.

Caius also knows that Emily has this deep seeded love and longing for Henry and he will never ever try to erase that. He knows how much Henry meant to her and will never ever say Emily should never have been with Henry. He knows she loves him, and she also loves Henry. He can live with that.

I can't exactly speak on Henry's feelings since I don't exactly know what they are. That's not me just avoiding the question. Since I don't have season 5 to guide me, I don't know how his story wraps up. It seems odd considering this is fanfiction so why should I care about canon, but I feel like I need to know how Henry's story wraps up in season 5 so I know how it wraps up when Emily is with him, and then I have to remove her from that new equation. I'm making it harder than it needs to be, but that's how my brain is choosing to operate.

At least in part though, he feels like if she's happy, then he's happy. In a way, he did give her happiness like he promised, now that I think of it that way.

Some other possible Jamie Variants?

As I said, this story was very curaited to pitting Caius against Henry because that's just how it developed from the start. But I have thought about this question a little bit since clearly Emily Has A Type, so why shouldn't we think about Jamie's other characters?

I think the next most likely candidate would be Jace. Personality wise, he and Emily have similarities. Their snark, their I'll say off-putting demeanors, among other things. That, and their aesthetics are similar. Emily's got tattoos and dresses alternatively, same as Jace. Plus, I think Emily would also be Jace's type since Emily and Clary have some similar traits like their red hair colors and brown eyes.

The primary problem I see with this is kind of a big one, though. Jace is a part-angel demon hunter. Emily is quite literally, for all intents and purposes, a demon. It would make for an interesting variant of the "two lovers on opposing sides of a war" trope, but that seems like a reaaaaaalllllly hard thing to bypass... oh but goddammit Emily as a Shadowhunter sounds like such a badass concept.

SHIT

I'm gonna move on.

Sweet little Anthony Hope I feel like is a much lower candidate. Emily doesn't quite fit in his world, nor does Anthony fit in hers. Emily's far too much of a psychotic bitch for him. Plus, this would have to be like, a younger version of Emily since in Diplopia (our baseline), she's 38, a whole 20 years Anthony's senior. That, and there would also have to be time travel used since Sweeney Todd takes place 159 years before that. I shouldn't really factor in these logical aspects since nothing about Diplopia was logical in the first place, but I can't help consider it.

They don't seem that compatable to me. Anthony should just stick with Johanna.

This one is more for fun, but let's analyze Kit Marlowe. I'll get the obvious out of the way, but there's a slim chance Kit would even be looking in Emily's direction in the first place. If we bypass that, I feel like if we put these characters on a spectrum of hypothetical compatability, Kit would be somewhere in the middle. He and Emily have some similarities, but I feel like if they spent too long with each other, they'd butt heads often. Emily's clingy and Kit pushes people away. That's not very conducive to a good relationship. But they do have a shared interest in more macabre things and both see themselves as damned and irredeemable creatures.

If I'm being honest, the most likely outcome for this, provided Kit is willing to have relations with women in the first place, is a friends with benefits situation more than anything.

In fact, let's have fun. If we put Henry and Caius on a shelf and let Emily play the bachelorette, we have a very clear cut game of Fuck, Marry, Kill for her. None of the options are perfect like with most games of FMK, but if we really break it down, Emily would...

Fuck Kit, Marry Jace, Kill Anthony

But I feel like now is a good time to mention that at certain spots in Diplopia and Necrosis, you can see small influences and references to these other characters.

Emily mentioned a girl from Saint Valentina's that she lit the mattress of on fire. Her name was Clarissa and she "thought she was basically an angel" which is me referencing Clary, and Jace by proxy.

This one is more loose, but to a certain degree, on Caius' part, I feel like in his mind there's a certain "I'll steal you, Johanna" element to how he feels when first meeting Emily. You can take that as you wish, but Johanna was the first "Every Breath You Take" regardless of who's singing it, iconic and adorable as that scene is.

Lastly, this is moreso in Necrosis, but I very specifically call out how in one scene Caius is wearing a black dress pants and a black Elizabethan blouse that was open in the front with his hair slightly wavy and touching his shoulders. This is me describing Kit Marlowe in essence, specifically that scene when he's talking to Will about ambitions and then they kiss (jcbbby would know what scene I mean for sure). Frankly, the Twilight budget was strained when it came to wigs, especially in Breaking Dawn for the Volturi, but to me, if you made Kit's hair Targaryen silver-blonde and he had the red eyes of course, that's my ideal Caius, full stop.

In a few ways I tried to make Diplopia/Necrosis a sort of melting pot for Jamie characters, some elements more subtle than the others, so if you really think about it Emily gets to have all these characters.

And all of this is without mentioning the fact that Emily is also attracted to women, but that's a conversation for another day.

***

Phew, that was a lot! Thanks for the ask and I hope this isn't too exhaustive of a read!

[littlecarnet]

It's comments like this that give me motivation.

I love it when people start throwing out theories, even if they're not correct, I just love the thought that people took the time to read my fic, try to connect to the dots within the plot, and come up with ideas.

The Azure Flute theory is correct though! Delia is its reincarnation. I've thrown out hints of that in three chapters so far. But the connection with Arceus and Ash's father? No. Sorry. They're not merged nor is the energy of creation involved. They are linked but not like that. I won't say in what way, I'll just throw out a few hints in the following chapters to see if anyone gets it.

But SG is absolutely right about Arceus developing paternal feelings toward Ash, and I think Ash is, at least subconsciously, has really wanted that sort of bond. I saw it in Professor Kukui, there is no doubt he played a father figure to Ash, but after Ash left back to the mainland, he's been missing that again. Though in this case, he wants something a bit more permanent, which is why he's probably trying to set Arceus up with his mother. If anyone can take care her properly, it would be Poke-Zeus. Though I'm sure Arceus would disagree with Ash's optimistic pov of that considering he doesn't have the best track record with maintaining friendships. Maybe Delia will be that lucky one? XD Or rather, she's not going to let him get away. That woman knows what she wants, even if she's unaware he's a god.

Getting back to the main point, I love writing Ash and Arceus bonding like that. Ash definitely keeps him on his toes and brings out a side to him that few see. A sense of humor and a fatherly desire to protect this small, broken family. And Ash gets someone to curb his tendency to run into danger, but also remind him he's greatly loved and needs to know his value apart from the heroics.

Found Family has always been one of my favorite tropes. So expect more of that for all three of them. It's not so much a shipping fic, as it's a fic about a family slowly coming together over the strangest situations.