#no angst plots plz
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cautiouslyyyoptimistic ¡ 2 years ago
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Currently thinking of a pidw native shixiong shen yuan au scenario where at the beginning of his tenure as a qing jing peak disciple him and shen qingqiu did have like a weird father-son esque bond. That like, slowly started to deteriorate as shen yuan got older and befriended binghe, slowly but surely being dissilutioned for his teacher/father figure/role model as time goes by and the more mature shen yuan is. Once shen yuan is like in his early 20s and is completely attached at the hip with luo binghe, shen yuan just. Finds it hard to love or respect shen qingqiu the same now after everything he's learned what he did to binghe and some other things he's done running the peak. But surely it can't get worse right?
And then the immortal Alliance conference happens. I'm thinking maybe either shen yuan missed out on the conference or wasnt around when the abyss opened, whatever the case, shen qingqiu comes back without luo binghe. Says he unfortunately died during the conference. And shen yuan privately thinks, for a horrible moment, "did he really?"
And because of that moment of doubt any sort of positive relationship between the two turns to dust.
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madamechrissy ¡ 11 months ago
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Series I write For - Jujutsu Kaisen // Love and DeepSpace
Kofi link (if you feel generous & wanna buy me a ☕️)
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ꔫJujutsu Kaisenꔫ
ꔫ Gojo x Reader ꔫ
୨୧˚Satoru Gojo Long Fics ˚୨୧ - ୨୧˚ Long Oneshots ˚୨୧ - ୨୧˚ Drabbles/headcanons ˚୨୧
ꔫ Sukuna x Reader ꔫ
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Ryomen Sukuna Stories˚ ˚୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆
ꔫ Geto x Reader ꔫ
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Suguru Geto Stories ˚୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆
ꔫ Nanami x Reader ꔫ
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Nanami Kento Stories ˚୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆
ꔫ Toji x Reader ꔫ
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Toji Fushiguro Stories ˚୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆
ꔫ Choso x Reader ꔫ
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Choso Kamo Stories ˚୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ SatoSugu x Reader ˚୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Other JJK Characters ˚୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆
ꔫLove and DeepSpace ꔫ
ꔫ Caleb x reader
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Caleb (LADS) Stories ˚୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆
ꔫ Sylus x reader-
If I didn't know better - You are arranged married to the powerful Sylus, sight unseen- and the moment you meet him, the two of you butt heads. He seems so arrogant and self sure, and he sees you as a bratty little Kitten - but that first night changes everything - WC 11k, oneshot, smutty/sweet. Arranged Husband Sylus -headcanons - you're arranged to marry Sylus, but is he who you think? 3k- explicit Dragon Sylus loves to breed you - smut drabble
ꔫ Zayne x reader -
Out of Line - Your bosses Zayne and Nanami are tired of your bratty attitude and have had enough of it! It's time you learned a lesson for slacking so hard (PWP/explicit - 2.5k WC) Surprising Zayne at Work -explicit- you surprise you man Zayne at work- drabble
ꔫ Rafayel x reader- Ebb and Flow - Rafayel is being a BRAT, as usual, and asks you to just leave after a day out together. But then you realize he just doesn't feel good - turns out, Raf is actually in heat, whoopsie! - 3.5k explicit
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About me I'm Chrissy, she/her- a girl mom, 90s bb, millenial, Aries, weeb. Obsessed with hot Anime men. I started writing in February of 2024 after a big break. Romantic comedy, smut with lots of plot. Also angst and darker stories, including Yandere and bdsm (properly tagging them) If you don't like those, skip and move on 💕 I post once or twice a month for each long story typically, oneshots and mini series much faster. Open to requests currently- but I may not always do them or may take time. Currently only writing JJK and Love and Deep Space!
Plz be kind and respectful, and patient, this is not my job it's for free. Don't hound me for updates. Also NO USING my fics as bots whatsoever.
Š 2024-2025 All works made by Madamechrissy, you may not reproduce.
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Blog recs -- Tagsss: #Inbox #Fic recs
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ebodebo ¡ 4 months ago
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I got news for you baby, you're looking at the man!
pairing: john price x fem!reader
wc: 7.2k...sorry lmao plz read…
contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, fluff, established relationship, oral (m. receiving), road head, porn w so much plot, hair pulling, angst, emotional conflict, complicated family dynamics, dysfunctional family, i.e., ongoing conflict, reader having familial issues (mostly maternal), age-gap, secret relationship & marriage, & john being a protector.
author's note: this was brought to fruition by a singular barry sloan edit that had me salivating and @sai-int's fic 'a ticket to play', which single-handedly re-sparked my love for price! so, yeah, anyways, enjoy this horny mess!
dividers by @/saradikagraphics!
John Price is a man...
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“John, you didn’t,” you hiss, eyes wide as you set down the groceries on the counter, your wrists aching from the heavy load.
“Didn’t know it was your mother, sweetheart,” he replies, his tone sincere. He quickly grabs the bags and begins unpacking the groceries.
You glance at the house phone positioned beside the fridge, then peel off the old sticky note attached there. You read it aloud, “Don’t answer calls from the 406 area code. I’m talking to you, John,” before pausing to think, lips pursed in contemplation.
He opens the fridge, sliding the milk jug inside before carefully shutting the door. When he turns back to see your knowing smile, his eyebrows lift in a silent acknowledgment, a quiet ‘ah’ escaping his lips.
“Well,” you urge, grabbing the aromatics from the counter to put up. “What did she say when you picked up?” You ask, attempting to sound as casual and disinterested as possible.
“Oh. Nothin’ you’d find interestin,’” he hums with a knowing smile as he tears open a pack of paper towels.
You press your lips together. “Well…yeah,” you mutter, picking up a few grapefruits. “I mean, it doesn’t matter to me,” you defend, emphasizing the ‘doesn’t.’ “I just want to know what she thought,” you shrug, trying to remain nonchalant.
“Mhm,” he hums thoughtfully as he gathers the now-empty reusable bags, hanging them on the hook next to the cabinet.
“I’m serious,” you say, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “I really don’t care.”
"I know you don't, hon." He turns to wash the fresh berries in a colander, the water splashing against the metal steadily.
"You don't believe me," you exasperate.
He lets out a low laugh as he washes the berries. "Didn't say that."
You lean against the kitchen island, your body language betraying your frustration. "You were thinking it," you accuse, with a dramatic sigh.
He sets the berries back into the colander and turns his head toward you, a playful half-smile on his lips. “No, I wasn't,” he replies, clearly amused.
You poke your tongue into your cheek, mentally cursing yourself for marrying someone so adept at reading your emotions, your inner conflict laid bare.
“But,” he says, tearing a paper towel to dry his hands. “Now, I’m starting to feel that you do care.”
You don’t respond, trying to avert your gaze as heat creeps into your cheeks like he’s caught you sneaking a cookie from the cookie jar.
“Baby,” he moves closer, wrapping his strong arms around your shoulders and pulling you into him. “It’s okay to care,” he whispers softly into your hair, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
You gently shut your eyes, pressing your face into his warm abdomen, finding comfort in his presence.
“Damn it,” you mumble, your words muffled against him. He chuckles softly in response. “Alright, fine,” you pull back slightly, locking your eyes onto his as his hands cradle your cheeks. “I do care. Now, spill the juicy details.”
He lets out a hearty laugh. “Well, she started by checkin’ in on you.”
You release a dry laugh, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, right. She always has ulterior motives," you grumble. "I swear that woman is always up to—"
"Shh," he squishes your cheeks together as both thumbs rest over your lips to silence you. "Will you let me finish?" He prompts, quipping a brow.
"Sorry, yeah," you apologize, your voice coming out muffled and nasal. 
He nods with a smile, moves his thumbs off your mouth, and drops his hands to massage your shoulders. "Said your sister is gettin' married, and she thought it would be nice if you came down for her engagement party this weekend," he supplies. 
Correction remarried.
She's on her fifth? No, her sixth husband now.
Guess she thinks six will be the lucky number.
Who’s gonna tell her?
However, that’s beside the point; you care about something much more…pathetic.
You feel frustrated because all you really want is to know how your mother reacted to the deep, gruff voice of the Englishman who answered the phone.
You wait with a bated breath, eyes wide with anticipation, but his expression remains flat, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What else?" You finally question, unable to contain your curiosity.
"That's all," he plainly says, his words hanging in the air.
You scoff. "She didn't ask about the random guy answering my phone?" You voice with disbelief.
Your mother is a shallow woman, but surely you getting what she’s constantly pressured you into getting would have her jumping for joy.
A sly smirk grows on his lips. "Am I just some random guy?" He jokes.
You smile yourself before pressing a kiss to his lips, arms coming to wrap around his torso. "You’re my husband, so not to me," you begin. "But to her, yes," your hand moves to the back of his neck, pulling him down to peck his lips again. "You know that," you say matter-of-factly.
His hands drift to your waist. "Mhm, I'm your dirty little secret," he hums softly.
"John," you frown, guilt flooding your brain. "You know I would, but—"
"Just jokes, baby," he interjects, pressing a light kiss on your temple as his eyes light up. "I love you in any way you’ll have me," he murmurs softly.
"God, you’re perfect," you reply with a smile. 
"She did question who I was," he starts. "Had no idea she was so southern," he remarks casually before continuing. "She thought I was the plumber," he quips, trying to lighten the mood slightly.
He tried, but he could feel the tension in the air.
Sees the disappointment and anger in your eyes.
In your posture.
You're fucking pissed.
"Typical," you remark, stepping away from him, arms flailing around. "She—she thinks I'm so incapable of finding someone that she would resort to thinking you're a person I pay before actually thinking you're with me." Your voice is filled with frustration.
"Hon—" John begins, voice soft as his hand reaches for you.
"And she wonders why I never visit," you release a dry laugh. "Never reach out."
"Come ere,'" he coos, hand pulling you by your wrist, so he can engulf you in a hug.
"It's not fair," your voice is once again muffled by the fabric of his shirt, but he can hear the tightness in it and the sniffle against him, a clear sign of your emotional distress.
"No, it's not," he affirms, fingers easing through your hair.
"Nothing is ever good enough for her," you exhale into his abdomen, fueled more by anger than by despair.
John gently kisses your hair while his fingers soothe your back with a gentle massage.
"I’ll never be good enough for her," you mumble absentmindedly, your voice lacking emotion.
"Sweetheart," he begins, his voice low as your hair muffles the sound. "Don't take offense, but you're mother is a real nasty woman. You're fuckin' perfect, and if she can't see that, it's her God-damn loss," his tone rough yet sincere.
You chuckled, a smile spreading across your face as the corners of your eyes crinkled. "I love you."
"Love you so much," he whispers, gently planting another kiss on your head.
He leans back slightly to look into your eyes. "Want me to run you a hot bath?" He asks, gently massaging your shoulders.
"That sounds really nice," you reply, taking a deep breath. "Thanks."
"Course. That's what I'm here for," he says effortlessly, leaning down to kiss your lips tenderly. "I'll let you know when it's ready."
You nod quietly as he moves to draw the warm bath.
The thought of sinking into steamy water and enveloping bubbles soothes your mind.
Honestly, to hell with your mother's opinions.
They just weren't worth the headache.
And there was no way you were going back to that house.
The promise of the bath, with its comforting warmth and enticing bubbles, would wash away your worries and quiet the thoughts swirling in your head.
Visions of your mother and that place would fade, never to resurface again.
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"Can't believe she thought I would actually come down," you sigh contentedly, feeling the warmth of your husband, John, as he works shampoo through your hair, creating rich suds.
So much for the visions of your mother fading. 
It had been a whole day since your mother's call, and the weight of her words still lingered, stirring up a storm of conflicting emotions within you.
"Still on your mind?" John asks, eyes hyperfocusing on ensuring the shampoo coats every strand of your hair.
"I just—I don't understand why she thought I would come," you suspire, turning to massage the loofah against John's chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the tension in his muscles.
"Must have gone mad, I suppose," he jests, his fingers massaging the shampoo into your scalp, adding a touch of humor to the heavy conversation.
Your lip quips at his joke, eyes lighting at the sight of him taking such good care of you, ensuring your scalp is tantalizingly clean. "Maybe," you murmur. "Because all she ever does is ridicule me and constantly ask if I've found a man.” You gently move the loofah over his chest to ensure he is squeaky clean.
"Close your eyes," he murmurs, his hands coming to massage your facial cleanser into your face before returning to the issue at hand.
"Wouldn't let tryin' to examine your mother's psyche take your day, hon," his hands move with familiar ease as he massages the liquid into your cheeks. "You'll never know why. Can't change that,” he says.
"I hate how logical you are," you sigh, finding yourself relaxing at his touch.
He lets out a gruff laugh. "Would you rather me be some git?"
Your eyebrow quips, eyes remaining closed. "What does that mean?"
His lip quips. "Sweetheart, how long have you lived with me here, in England?" He enunciates the last word as he moves you under the faucet to wash away the cleanser's remnants. 
"Not long enough, I guess," you smile cheekily, wiping your eyes free of water to open them. "Honestly, forever isn't even long enough," you add, trying to shift the focus, though it's true; you can't quite remember how long you've been living together  
"Oh," he tuts softly. "Nice save. Can't argue with that," he replies, smirking before leaning in to kiss your lips.
After a stretch of silence, you turn around so he can wash your back with the loofah. Your mind is still swirling with thoughts. "I kind of miss seeing my niece," you find yourself reminiscing.
"Even though my sister and I don't get along too well, her daughter and I have always had a special bond," you say with a sigh.
"What else do you miss?" Since you never really talk about where you grew up, John prods, he's curious.
"Well, in the spring, my cousins and I would go flower picking in the field behind my grandfather's house," you find yourself getting more excited.
"He also had an old peach tree, Mindy, he called it, that we would pick dozens of peaches from and just lay in the shade under the tree and eat them till he thought we might become peaches ourselves," you snicker, turning around to face him, eyes light.
"They were fucking good peaches."
"Sounds like you miss it," he grins.
Your hand turns the lever off, and the water stops, leaving a lingering warmth on your skin. "I do," you confess, stepping out of the shower to grab you and him fresh towels.
"But, my mother knows how to ruin the best of memories," your voice is monotone. "I want those great ones to stay intact, you know?" You shrug, wrapping the towel around yourself, offering comfort.
He wraps the towel low around his waist. "Course I get it, sweetheart," his voice soft yet gruff. "Let's get you all nice and dry, and we'll order some takeout. Yeah?" He asks, reaching for your hand to lead you into your shared bedroom to get dressed.
"Sounds perfect," you voice, the thoughts of going home almost completely absolving. 
A few misses wouldn't make you completely switch gears and go.
It just wasn't worth it.
Only your mother could figure out how to make the enjoyment and amazing things crumble up and burn. 
But you won't let her. 
So, you've made up your mind. 
You will not be going.
That's final.
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It's two days to Saturday.
You've been manically counting down the days.
And so, naturally, instead of basking in the serene morning, with birds chirping and the gentle glow of the sun filtering through your kitchen window, you're perched on a barstool, computer propped up, as your breakfast grows cold, hand hesitating over a plane ticket that will whisk you away tomorrow morning to your hometown. 
Just one click, and you'll have solidified yourself as going.
You're only feeling so impulsive because your impulse control, aka your husband, is at work.
Your finger hovers over the 'confirm' button for about twenty minutes.
You know what's holding you back.
The anxieties claw up about your mother and what ifs that could happen.
And then, in a sudden moment of clarity, it all becomes clear.
'Could.'
It's not a promise, just a possibility.
You had spontaneously decided that you wouldn't let the could control your decisions.
Yes, one thing was holding you back, but what about the multitude of things that you wanted to see or the many people who loved and cared about and desperately wanted to see after so long?
You were not going to let the 'could' control your decisions.
You were going to overcome this worry and take the leap.
You sit up tall in your chair, turning your head with a wince as you click "confirm."
"Oh," you murmur. "That was dramatic for no reason," you say monotonously.
But, now you can't help but feel a surge of excitement.
You would get to see your niece after so long.
And the flower field and, of course, Mindy the peach tree.
Who could forget your childhood room full of posters and knick-knacks you collected throughout your teenage years.
You find yourself smiling as you get that familiar chime from your email confirming your flight ticket.
Can't get cold feet now.
You take a swig of your tea, which has long since gone cold, but your throat is parched from the anxiety that grips you, a knot tightening in your stomach.
The mug was a gift from your husband for your birthday last year.
It featured your favorite flowers made into it and even had your birthday engraved on the bottom.
John was always so thoughtful.
You pause your movements, lips hovering over the clay mug, a moment of hesitation freezing your actions.
John.
Your husband.
Of course, he didn't care that you bought the ticket or wanted to go, but he would be pissed if you just left.
Sure, you could wait until he returned home, but the urgency to communicate your decision gnaws at you, compelling you to act now.
You hurriedly reach for your phone, fidgeting to press his number.
He's at the top of your contacts.
You tap your fingers against the cool granite countertop, waiting until he picks up.
It rings.
And rings.
...and rings again.
Until the line picks up, you sit up, ready to unload on him, only for it to be his voicemail line.
"Shit," you curse, hanging up as your foot bounces on the metal footstep on the barstool.
As you sit there, unable to wait until he gets home, you can't help but feel a surge of dramatic emotion. This internal conflict, this emotional turmoil, is what drives you to act impulsively.
But this is a big deal.
You never go home.
Rarely mention it.
So your next actions feel rationalized to you.
Without a second thought, you spring up, grab your keys from the hook by the door, slip your shoes and coat on, and speed to your car, most likely looking like a mad woman. 
But at this moment, who cares about appearances? 
The urgency of the situation overrides any concern for normalcy.
Normalcy is overrated, anyway.
You throw the car into gear, and though you are in a rush, you don't speed there. 
Carefully, you make your way, chewing on your lips nearly the entire drive.
Despite your earlier determination not to return, you find yourself on the way, a plane ticket already in your possession.
The anticipation of what your husband has to say fills you with a slight unease.
He wouldn't be mad.
More surprised than anything.
And honestly, you shamelessly loved seeing him at work.
His professional demeanor, always in control, never fails to impress you.
You can't help but oogle him.
It secretly really got you going.
But, this time, it was a purely innocent visit, of course.
You find a parking spot, ease into the front part, giving the officer guarding the gate your name.
She quickly lets you through.
You are the captain's wife, after all.
Walking, you head straight through a door and through another one.
So many God-damn doors in this place.
Until you reach the middle portion of the base, grass surrounds you, and various equipment is placed orderly around.
Sandbags, wooden ladders, and weights are among the items you see. 
Your eyes sweep the area until they land on the man you're looking for. 
He stands tall, his broad shoulders filling out his uniform, a few strands of hair escaping his signature hat.
His eyes are focused on the recruits, his expression a mix of determination and frustration.
From the looks of it, he's training new recruits, something he doesn't often do, but it's a real treat when he does.
His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his veiny arms. 
His arms, usually strong and steady, now appear more veiny than usual, a sign of his apparent frustration with the recruits. His jaw is set, and you can see the tension in his muscles as he barks orders.
"Runnin' like a fuckin' slug," he reprimands. "Pick up the pace."
You hate how hearing that makes you feel butterflies in your stomach.
"Get your head out of your ass," he grunts outs, clearly annoyed. "The hell are you lookin' at," he asks a recruit who, along with a few others, seems to be on another planet, eyes wandering behind him.
John turns to his side to see you in a cute dress, waving to him sweetly. "Course," he lets out a dry laugh, giving you a small wave.
He turns back to the recruits, his authority palpable.
"Eyes off my wife, or you'll be doin' extra laps," he scolds, his tone low but intimidating, before yelling to move to the ladders with Soap.
He makes his way over to you, a warm smile on his face. "Nice surprise, hon," he greets, kissing your cheek.
"I'm gonna go," you murmur.
His brows furrow in confusion. "Go where?" 
You raise a brow at his confusion. "To...see my family."
His eyes bore into your intently. "By yourself?"
"I didn't think you'd want to go," you say honestly. 
"I'm going with you," his tone final, with no room to argue. "You bought a plane ticket?" He questions.
"I did...sorry, I just thought—" you begin before he cuts in, his hand pressing against your cheek. 
"No worries," he says. "I'll get the ticket when I get back to my office," his tone casual. "You're sure about this?"
"I think so," you say. "Plus, if I cancel the ticket, we'll be out six hundred dollars," you laugh out.
"Screw the money, okay? You tell me if you don't want to go," he tells you, face serious.
"If I change my mind, you'll be the first to know," you lean up, pressing a short kiss to his lips. "Also, you should always wear your shirt like that."
His eyes narrow as he lets out a laugh. "You like it?"
"Looks sexy," you purr quietly, teeth coming to bite your lip.
His face warms slightly. "Should see what it looks like off."
"Are you flirting with me, captain?" You say, hand coming to your heart in false surprise. 
"Just givin' you a preview for later," his tone is husky. 
"I'll be waiting," you begin, beckoning him to lower his head so your lips can hover over his ear. "Already so wet just thinking about it."
He releases a low grunt as you press a kiss to his cheek.
"See you at home," you say sweetly as if you didn't just give him a hard-on at the thought of you all wet and needy for him.
"See you, sweetheart," he almost chokes out as you turn to go away, your ass swaying in the dress you wear.
He's going to make you pay later.
And honestly, you can't wait.
You need something to take your mind off tomorrow's morning flight. 
Though it was going to take a lot more than sex to ease your mind.
A horse tranquilizer may help.
No. Too dangerous.
Whatever, you'll take your chances with John's hand all over and in you to have you sleeping and at ease.
Maybe you'll get lucky, and you two can sneak off to the airport bathroom and finally join the mile-high club.
That would definitely keep your mind off things.
For now, you’ll wear a smile, and excitement will radiate from your being.
Everything will be fine.
Nothing bad will happen.
Even so, what’s the worst that could possibly happen?
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Statement retracted.
Your trip thus far has been a shitshow, and you haven't even seen your family yet.
Your flight got delayed three hours because of fog.
That was understandable, annoying, but understandable. 
What wasn't was the lady who insisted on sitting between you and John on your flight in the seat you paid for.
An older lady, maybe in her late forties or so, with a determined look in her eyes and a set to her jaw that said she wasn't going to let a little thing like a seat assignment get in her way.
She was nice at first.
She became insufferable rather quickly.
Very persistent.
You deduce she did that so she could sit next to your man. 
It didn't bother you so much, plus you knew if you showed it did, John would make a scene, and you just wanted to close your eyes and sleep, so you let her have your seat and sat by the window instead.
But every time you got settled, eyes closing gently, the soft lull of the plane helping you drift off.
"Going off to college?" She piped next to you, oblivious or noncaring about your eyes shut.
Your eyes open rapidly, and you look at her, awaiting a response. "Uh, no. I graduated a couple of years ago," your voice is drowsy. 
"Oh. You two must be going on a father-daughter trip, then?" She poses.
Your wide eyes drift to John's; a smile etched on his face. "Such a kind father you are," she compliments without missing a beat.
The sheer absurdity of her assumption leaves you speechless, and John can't help but let out a quiet laugh.
"Thas' actually my wife," he says, trying to contain another laugh. 
"Oh," her eyes widen in shock and apparent envy. "Well, aren't you a lucky one," her tone is dry as she eyes you.
That was funny.
But not when she did it about five hundred times on the eight hour flight.
It was like a broken record, playing the same tune over and over again, and you were the unwilling participant. 
Over and over again like clockwork.
Drove you bat shit crazy.
Sure, maybe you could have just told her to shut the hell up, but you kept telling yourself it wasn't worth the fight, and you didn't have the energy to make the effort.
Also, since the lady was sitting in the seat between you, formally yours, you didn't feel comfortable asking John about the bathroom sex.
She would have most likely dropped dead or asked to join.
You didn't want either.
So, it is safe to say that when the plane landed, you sat up excitedly to escape the stuffy plane.
The lady tried to follow you and John out, but you grabbed John by the wrist, dragging him behind you as your legs gained more momentum to try and escape her.
It was like a horror movie.
"Oh my God. She was so weird," you laugh out to John as you manage to get away from her, stepping out of the airport to collect your rental truck. 
"I know. Kept lookin' at me the whole flight," he says with unease as he places your suitcases into the backseat of the truck, shooing away your hands from the bags so he could lift them himself.
"Do we need to get you a counselor?" You half-joke as he opens the car door for you to get in as he moves to the driver's seat.
"Think so," he gruffs before his eyes fixate on you. "You okay?"
You had put the address into the truck's maps system, settling back into the leather seat, eyes now on his. "I'm nervous," you confess.
"Nothin' to be nervous about. I'm here for you, okay? If you need to leave, just tell me," his voice is soft as his hand caresses your thigh in comfort. 
You give him a nod, turning to look out the window at the passing buildings, a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.
You had already texted your niece you were coming, so you're sure your mother and sister know. 
It's not like you'd be staying with them.
That's too much too soon.
Plus, you and John could have sex anytime in the hotel with no fears of your estranged mother walking and seeing John balls-deep in you.
It was really better for all parties.
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Once you pull up to the house, you swear you could hurl.
"Was this a bad idea?" You ask John nervously as he pulls your suitcases out of the backseat.
He gently sets them on the dirt. "It's just nerves," he says, locking the truck. "Let's scope it out, and if you want to leave, we'll go. No questions," his hand rests gently on your shoulder.
"Promise?" You prod, tilting your head towards him. 
He smiles at you. "You have my word, sweetheart."
You release a deep breath. "I think I'm going to pass out."
He chuckles deeply, hand snaking around your waist to lead you to the front door. "I'll catch you if you do."
You feel your nerves subside with John by your side as you flip up the familiar peach-shaped doorbell cover to ring the bell.
Stomping feet approach, the voice growing nearer and nearer until the front door pulls open to reveal your sister.
Flawless as ever. 
Her eyes light up. "Thought my daughter was tellin' fibs," she jokes, pulling you into a warm, tight hug. "Missed you." Her genuine affection wraps around you like a comforting blanket.
You reciprocate the hug with equal tightness. 
Although you may not have gotten along well, she was still your sister, and you could feel the love a million miles away. 
She pulls away, eyes falling onto the mysterious, hot, stoic man to your side. "Who's this good-lookin' hunk?" She coos, smacking her gun.
"This is my, um, my husband, John," you say, fumbling your words a little.
"Nice to meet you," his voice is low and most shockingly British, as he sticks his hand out.
Cordial as ever. 
"Oh, come on. That's just not even fair, sis," she jests, taking his hand fast and tight.
Her playful banter adds a lightness to the moment that almost absolves your nerves entirely.
"Where's...mom?" You ask, your heart pounding in your chest, the unease apparent in your tone.
She looks back at you. "Kitchen," she says before offering a reason. "She's makin' peach cobbler. Come on in," she steps aside so you and John can enter the door.
The familiar scent of the old wooden floors, the sound of the creaking stairs, and the sight of the family photos on the wall all bring back a flood of memories.
Warm smiles and familiar voices greet you as you step inside.
Cousins, aunts, uncles.
They approach you one by one, their surprise at your arrival evident, but even more so at hearing that you're married to the burly man at your side. 
Your aunts keep him occupied as you wander into the kitchen.
They keep him engaged in their lively banter, shamelessly flirting with him while their husbands sit in the living room, engrossed in their own discussions. 
You feel a little bad for leaving him to fend with the wolves, but he assured you he was alright and all but pushed you into the kitchen.
Sure enough, your mother was busy rolling out some dough on the countertop for the crust for the top of the peach cobbler. 
"Mom," your voice is quiet as you move around the island to where she is.
She turns. "Well, I'll be," she begins, eyes wide and full of surprises. "Ya came."
"I did," you amend with a smile. "And I brought someone I'd like you to meet."
"Some city guy?" Her head moves back to the dough, no longer on you.
"He, yes, he's from the city," your voice is outwardly confused.
"Thought so," her tone is snarky as she delicately lays the dough over the cobbler filling. 
"What is that supposed to mean?" It comes out more defensive than you intend. 
"Nothin,'" she says flatly. "Enjoyen' your fancy life in the city?"
You roll your eyes, already anticipating the direction this conversation is about to take. "Mom," you urge, your frustration palpable.
"No, hon. I get it," she looks up at you, shrugging. "Honestly, surprised you came. Wouldn't wanna dim your new sparkly life," her tone is condescending. "That is why it's been so long, right?"
"It's not like that," you try to justify, but you know it will do no good.
She completely disregards that, instead changing the subject. "Supper's ready," she bussies herself with stirring the gravy. "Better snag yourself a seat quick," her tone is dry. "Table hasn't grown none."
You release a shallow breath, turning around to escape this stupid God-damned kitchen and moving to find John. 
It's a familiar feeling, this resignation. 
Guess some things never change. 
You approach him, and before you say a word, his eyes are already locked on you, body language now stiff. "What's the matter?" His hands are on you in an instant.
You should have known.
He can read you like one of those mission reports he reads daily.
"Nothing," you mutter, forcing a smile, but the words feel heavy with the things you're hiding.
His eyes narrow. "Can't lie to me," he voices.
You'd just about rather crawl in a hole and die than re-account. 
What was supposed to be a happy recount turned sour rather quickly.
"Tell me," he urges, sensing your inner turmoil. 
"Drop it," your tone is more icey than usual. "Please." 
He gives you a light nod, eyes full of concern.
"Let's go eat, okay?" Your hand moves to his, intertwining your fingers, and guilt claws up your throat.
He gives you a nod as you drag him into the dining room to snag a seat at the main table.
Mom was right. The table is still too small to accommodate a family of this size, so another table sits outside and another in the living room. 
Others crowd around the breakfast nook and sit on barstool at the kitchen island. 
This house has never known loneliness. 
Your mother, father, sister, sister's daughter, and your sister's fiance are at the table with you and John. 
Your niece opts to sit next to you, gushing about her new boyfriend, the son of the florist downtown, and asking questions about the city.
"Hush now, darlin.' She gets all fussy about that," your mother chides your niece, referring to your early conversation about you living in the city.
"Mom," you quip, eyes wide at her sheer audacity.
She hadn't even addressed John, just jumping straight into a fight.
Typical.
"I'm just sayin.' Ya jumped all over me for talkin' about it," she says, trying to sound innocent. 
Seems her memory is slipping.
"That's not why I got upset," your tone is teetering between desperation and frustration, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air.
She plops some mashed potatoes on her plate before passing the bowl along. "Then what was it ya were so hurt about earlier, huh?"
You're sure steam is rolling out of your ears.
"You hold a, a vendetta against me for leaving," you spew without much thought, anger taking over. "Because you never got to leave, you take it out on me," you finish, and you're sure you're shaking. 
If all eyes weren't on you before, they are now.
John is leaning back in his chair, eyes wide.
He's kind of scared if he touches you, you'll punch him, so he instead crosses his arm over his chest.
"I think the city is cool," your niece randomly chimes in, clearly trying to ease the tension. "Would love to visit someday."
You give her a smile before your mother starts up again.
"Didn't your mother teach ya about city girls," she snaps to your niece. "Nothin' good ever came from any of em.'" 
You can taste the metallic taste of blood on your tongue; you had bitten your cheek so hard you bled.
"Ain't that right," your mother says, eyes shifting to your sister.
Your sister is great.
Just not in the presence of your mother.
She takes on her personality and thoughts.
Agreeing with her without a second thought
That includes her fights.
"It's true," she snickers. "City girls can't tell a pencil from a pecker."
You find yourself standing abruptly, and your sister matches your action, spewing more garbage. 
And for some reason, her fiance stands up, which makes John stand up, matching his movements.
He's easily a foot taller than her fiance, and he's much more muscular, too.
"Enough," John's low, commanding voice is fitting for a military captain. It splices through the room, the commotion dying as he speaks. "I will not sit here and let you treat my wife like this," his head tilts towards your sister and then to your mother. "Now or ever."
He doesn't even need to yell to get any attention. 
His voice just demands attention already. 
Your sister, usually so quick with a retort, is silent.
The fear in her eyes is unmistakable, adding to the intensity of the confrontation.
She’s scared.
Hell, everyone is.
Well, except your niece, whose lip quips secretly, a small smirk playing on her lips despite the tension in the room. 
"Your daughter came down on her own merit to see you," he points to your mother. "Could have done so many other things, but she wanted to see you," he enunciates the last word.
"Well, she—" Your mother begins, her face bright red with anger, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
"Tired of hearin' the excuses," his voice cuts through hers. She quickly shuts up, a surprising silence falling over her. "Can't even believe your daughter turned out as amazing as she did growing up with this," he gestures towards you.
He stands with his hands on his hips, disappointment is evident on his face. 
"My wife is a God-damn saint," his voice is rough.
You find your lip quipping at the praise and how much he appreciates you.
He worships the ground you walk on.
That was made abundantly clear. 
His hands reach to rest on your lower back. "Appreciate the food, but we'll be leavin' now," he mutters, stepping back to push his chair in.
You don't argue with him.
Hell, how could you?
He said everything you couldn't
Laid all your thoughts on the table and even added some extra.
He did what he was born to do: protect.
You step away, push your chair in, and turn around, not bothering to say goodbye as you walk to the front door.
You'll text your niece later. 
The chill in the air, carrying the scent of magnolia trees and damp earth, hits you like a slap to the face.
John's hand is still on your lower back, guiding you back to the truck.
He opens the door so you can slip inside as he makes his way around the driver's seat.
The heater is blasting as he shoves the key into the keyhole, and the engine is stirring alive as he easily backs out and pulls onto the road. 
The silence is heavy as he drives down a straight, desolate road.
It's silent for a moment before he��starts to comment, apologizing profusely about how he overstepped and saying sorry that this trip turned out bad.
You're tuning him out and instead focusing on how he stood up for you.
He was just such a man.
He always knew how to be what you needed him to be.
Protector.
Listener.
Talker.
He always knew which role to take on to support you, to be your anchor in the storm of emotions. 
Just that thought alone made you incredibly wet. 
You don't know why.
You should be crying from the way things unfolded with your family.
But you're not sad, not even remotely.
Just incredibly horny.
You find yourself slipping the rubberband off your wrist and quickly tying your hair in a messy ponytail.
"Hon," John says, noting your unusual silence. "I'm so sorry," he quickly glances your way before looking back at the road.
You don't speak, opting to brush your hand against his cargo pants as your fingers fumble with his zipper.
He makes a noise of surprise. "What're you doin?'" He asks, his voice breathy.
"You took care of me," you mumble, shimming your fingers under the waistband of his boxers to release his erect cock, to which he grunts. "Want to do the same," your voice is lazy, as your lips brush against the sensitive head.
"Me yellin' at your mother got you all hot?" He jokes though it dies halfway on his tongue as your lips spread open to accommodate his size.
His knuckles are white as he tightly grips the steering wheel so as not to crash.
Your mouth makes a pop noise before you speak. "You're just so sexy. All manly like that," you mutter against his cock, the tingle of your words sending goosebumps throughout his entire body.
"Am I?" He chokes out as your lips move back to encase his cock.
"So hot," your voice is muffled as you take in more of his cock.
"Oh—Christ, thas' it, hon," he groans as you bob your head up and down.
His mind has gone fuzzy at the feeling of your tight throat, taking him so good, even swerving a little, before quickly straightening the wheels.
"So fuckin' good," he grunts, as one hand moves to gather your ponytail in a loose fist. 
Your tongue works in tandem, rubbing against the underside of his cock, sending more pleasure through him. "Such a good girl, babe," he praises, and you just know that your underwear will be soaked. 
"So good." Your moan against him at the next praise, making him sputter his hips up, his cock slipping in your mouth entirely. 
He chokes out some incoherent words you can't make out; taking note of his body going taut, you can presume he's close.
"Gonna," he strains out as you continue bobbing up and down, his hand tightening around the fistful of your hair. “Come."
You bring your hand to pump the base as your tongue flicks across the tip.
He groans with anguish, legs shaking as he comes in your mouth.
You pull your head up, your eyes boring into his so he can watch you swallow out every last drop, even using your fingers to clean up the residue in the corners of your mouth.
His eyes stay glued to your mouth before you yell at him to watch the road.
"Christ," he shouts, gripping the wheel tight to stay in his lane. 
You laugh as you lean, pressing a sideways kiss on his lips.
He can taste himself on your lips.
He almost comes again.
But the high lasts just as short as when you look in the review to see police sirens hot on your tale, the siren invading your eardrums. 
John curses but pulls off to the shoulder, sneakily grabbing his military badge in his pocket.
"You always just carry that on you?" You smile slyly, the body still warm from your escapades. 
"Will come in handy," he assures, rolling his window down as the officer makes his way to his window.
"Evenin', folks. Gotta call from a concerned driver sayin' you were swervin' out of your lane," he says.
"No, sir. Not us," you answer, John glancing towards you.
"That right?" The officer prods. "I'm going to need to see your license and registration, sir," his monotone voice says. 
"Yes, sir," John says, slyly flashing his military badge as he "looks" for his license. 
"You're military?" John nods. "Hell," the officer laughs, tucking his notepad back in his pocket. "I know you aren't some juveniles."
John laughs as he glances over to you, glancing down to see a little remnant of his come on your shirt.
He almost feels guilty.
Almost.
He lets out a cough.
"You alright, sir?" The officer asks, brows furrowed.
"Yeah. Fine," his voice is strained.
You shoot him a look before the officer starts again.
"Well, I'll let ya'll get on your way," he pats the top of the car.
You both issue a heartfelt thanks before John pulls back out onto the road, a palpable sense of relief in your voices.
"Can't believe he just let you off," you groan, hand coming to intertwine his. 
"Thought you'd be happy?" He laughs. "Can get to the hotel in record time now."
You raise a knowing eyebrow. "For what?"
"Saw you squirmin' in that seat," he teases, his affectionate tone wrapping around you. "I need to take care of my girl," he adds, his voice filled with warmth and love. 
You release a shallow breath.
His girl.
You.
Just you.
That's what you loved about loving him. 
You didn't have to keep up with his expectations.
You could simply exist, and he would kiss the ground you walk on.
The thought lit up your brain.
John Price was your man.
And in his eyes, you'd always be his girl.
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mini author's note: i'd have to be surgically removed from him...
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autistic-katara ¡ 2 years ago
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guys pls send me more fic ideas i need choices-
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satellitespinner ¡ 4 days ago
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Izzies’ fic recs 2
(part one)
→ boycott neil druckman.
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“welcome to the party” (brothers bestfriend!ellie) @lovelettersfromluna
( 4 parts, i loved every second of it, mix of angst, fluff, and smut! )
“over and out” (radio!au) @elliesfreckle
(so unique that i had to tune in! (hahahah lollll) anyways, i love it bad and ellie is so cute)
“the act of defrosting” (ellie x joels granddaughter!reader) @vxsellie
(yeah wow. eri did her big one. i cant even. 22k words of poetry, if u appreciate literature, you’ll appreciate this.)
“can you read my mind? ive been watching you” (teacher!reader x mom!abby) @loserabby
(i cried, i laughed, i yearned, i came. i love me some mom abby and this author writes her perfectly.)
“sillage” (and skin) (brothers bestfriend!ellie) @lambcultist
(JUST- YES! again another unique one, i really love it i hope you continue writing forever!)
“imposter syndrome” (infected!ellie) @applejusue
(another unique plot! infected au!ellie, i love this story down. i read it and thiught, damn i needa step up my game.)
“submarine” (situationship!ellie) @elliesbabygirl
(LUA MY LOVE! angsty and prick ellie of course! you never fail to make me hate my girl.)
“smoke me out” (nonchalant ellie smau) @breathinlove
(shits funny as fuck icel… ellies a bitch but when isnt she :) )
“letting go” (just.. read it.) @vxsellie
(just read it. addictions, which is arguably my favourite plot line in the world because alcoholic ellie is canon. yea i like the sad shit.)
“apple cider” (bsf!ellie) @cheriedivine
(SOOOO EFFING CUTE I CRY MY SHAYLA!!!! ellies so in character here its insane. its written so well i genuinely forget im reading and not living it.)
“collide” (rockstar!ellie x popstar!reader) @valeisaslut
(we ALL know collide, and if u dont? bby what are u doing!!!!! jk. but collide changed me - i cried for 30 days and 30 nights. more addict ellie for me specifically.)
“someone older” (chef!ellie) @les4elliewilliams
(YES YES YES YES YES YES. OLDER!ELLIE, ANGST, PLOTTY, CHEFING. EM YOU NEVER FAILLLLL!!!!!!!! its so good guys plz tune in. AND TO MANEATER!)
“recusitate” (paramedic!abby) @loaksky
( ANGST, SMUT, FLUFF, HAPPY ENDING. abby is sexy as fuck and in this fic the author multiplied it by a million. thank you so much for this i cry.)
309 notes ¡ View notes
hotteokyu ¡ 5 months ago
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wooyoung's sister
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Synopsis ~ Your brother's career would be over if not for his pretty substitute. You can sing, dance, and make a perfect impression of Wooyoung, so you accept his plea. You have your own reasons, of course. It's about time you meet the man thirsting for your innocent brother and put him in his place. You hate people like him. Choi San.
So you become Wooyoung for a while.
Pairing ~ san x reader (wooyoung's twin sister)
Word count ~ 14.8k
Genre / warnings ~ romance, enemies to lovers, smut, EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT MDNI, gender-swap, reader has anger issues (plot point), mention of cult, binder, reader is protective of brother, hates skinship, hates affection, hates everything, san is made fun of a lot, pls dont take it to heart i love him, many thoughts of violence, cursing, trust issues, passing out, some angst, clingy san, lego live ft. Hwa, Hwa is done with their cat fights, slumber party, strawberry cake drama, description of period cramps, drunk confession, angry tension, hongjoong forces them to make up, angry sex, frustrated sex, dom!reader, sub-ish San, oral sex (female receiving), teasing, biting, marking, edging, rough sex
a/n ~ I had a lot of fun writing this :p plz tell me what you think!
     It’s not like you didn’t expect it to happen. You knew there’d be a day your brother would come knocking on your door, begging for your help. And you would do anything for your baby brother. 
     But this is crazy. 
     There’s an entire team of staff in your bedroom. One is cutting your precious, nurtured hair. One is wrapping a binder around your chest. One is measuring your feet. Another is wiping the pretty glitter from your eyes. Two ladies are packing your bags. And the final one is giving you small sips of water to calm your nerves. 
     Three bodyguards are shivering outside in the cold rain, refusing to come in to keep dry. A personal driver is waiting in the car out in the parking lot.
     In the living room, your brother, his manager, and the CEO of KQ Entertainment are sitting comfortably on your couch. 
     There must be a weight limit for the apartment.
     And there must be a capacity for the absolute rage that can fill your body. Your hair is gone, your features masculinized. You have no tits. They’re gone.
     But you take a deep breath. There’s an audience. A big one. You can act like a crazy bitch once you’re alone. Act sane. Calm… down…
     Wooyoung’s jaw drops when he sees you, and there’s a single twitch in your left eye. 
     Calm.
     With a huff, you sit on the floor facing the couch everyone else is occupying. Wooyoung is looking away, puckering his lips guiltily. 
     “I heard you can dance,” the man beside your brother says.
     “Yeah, I can dance. I was a trainee at Big Hit for, like, four years,” you scoff, receiving a snicker from your brother.
     “I heard you know almost every ATEEZ choreography,” he says, leaning back with a satisfactory smile as you nod. 
     “He comes home after every comeback and teaches me his parts.” You point at Wooyoung with a deep frown. “He makes us perform it for our grandma for cookies.”
     “I heard you can sing, too,” he says eagerly grinning as you nod again. “You don’t sound much like your brother, though. I heard you can do a good impression of him, though.”
     Yup. You can sing too. Sing like Wooyoung, dance like Wooyoung, laugh like Wooyoung. For years you’d pretended to be him in different situations. Who knew it would be so helpful in the long run?
     But that’s how your night starts. A long boring conversation. Basically… Wooyoung was in Paris for fashion week and befriended a kind lady. He gave her an autograph, as one of her friends was a huge fan. Turns out she was a sex worker and actually signed him up for her cult. It’s a group for worshiping some sex god. KQ needs to get your brother out of trouble in a Paris court. And, obviously, his career is basically over, if not for you, his beautiful stand-in. As long as no one finds out about it, Wooyoung should be fine. It’s an opportunity no one else could have. It’s perfect.
     You aren’t even mad. 
     Which is a first.
     You’re just so confused as to how your brother can be so stupid.
     A sex cult? That’s crazy?? 
     But you’re already dressed and ready to go. You’d already agreed. So, sure, whatever. 
     Of course, you have your own reasons. 
     You were a trainee at BigHit with Wooyoung and Yeosang, but the only reason you trained there was to keep an eye on your brother. He has this thing about him. People find him cute, small, intimidating, sure, but they like a challenge. Everyone falls in love with him. Everyone wants to touch him and love him forever. Absolutely not. 
     When he and Yeosang moved to KQ, you tried to follow them, but the company wasn’t looking for girls. You got angry and lashed out in the practice room. Got kicked out. Never danced again. 
     Anyway, you like this idea of being Wooyoung for a few weeks. Because now you can see just how his members act. And you can set them straight.
     “Ah, there’s one thing I forgot to mention,” Wooyoung mumbles, eyeing the CEO warily. “She has, like, crazy anger issues.”
     Your brother keeps his room plain, black and gray, with zero posters, and zero personality. That’s weird for a guy with a sparkling, outgoing persona. You expected him to have a little bit of something showing in here. Maybe he just doesn’t have the time to decorate. Maybe he’s busy playing games when he does have the time.
     You sit down on his bed and pucker your lips as you test its cushion. It’s stiff, your booty sinking just slightly into the memory foam. This will be nice to snuggle up on once you clean all of the sheets. 
     You take out your phone and go through the notes Wooyoung sent you. Routines, outfits, locations of items and places, dishes, info about the members, dances to le- Your eyes backtrack and a sinister grin grows on your pretty little face.
     There’s a lot of useless information, like birthdays and representative animals. But he also wrote exactly what you needed to know to get started on your affection purge.
     Your temporary roommates, Choi Jongho and Kim Hongjoong, are both reserved to their areas apparently. You like that. They know their places. They won’t be much of a problem. Yeosang, you know. He won’t be a problem. Song Mingi, you read, is big and awkward. He doesn’t initiate much affection, but he can be a bit freaky at times. Park Seonghwa is silly and affectionate but in a motherly way. How cute. Jeong Yunho is just a big puppy. He’ll come play with you on his own or whenever you want. He’ll like what you like, but he doesn’t pester at all. 
     Now… you don’t know this Choi San, but you know you hate him and his kind. Affectionate, kisses, skinship, clingy, likes Wooyoung very much. You were expecting to find someone like him here, but seeing it now in front of you, you’re fuming. 
     How unprofessional. How ignorant. 
     You’ll fix it, though. You gotta brush off your dusty skills, but you can fix it. 
    For two days, you have private singing, dance, and performance lessons. You don’t meet any of the members except for Jongho eating breakfast while playing a game on his phone. He hardly says hi as you walk out the door.
     For those days, you’re content. You’re a natural, and you’ve already been trained and taught everything throughout your life. Each night, you run everything anyway. Wooyoung keeps his room cold as hell, so dancing doesn’t even make you hot. 
     The first day at dance practice with the rest of the members, however… You don’t think you’ve gone from completely fine to fucking steaming with anger in such a short amount of time before. 
     A man dares to put his grimy hands on you?? AND he thinks you’re Wooyoung?! 
      You memorized Choi San’s face because you were gonna steer clear, but this bitch pulls you into a hug as soon as you walk through the door. You step away immediately, staring in disbelief at the man. 
     So this is Choi San. He’s taller than you but not by too much. He’s big, wide, and strong. He’s got dimples as he cracks a cheeky grin, raising his groomed brow. His black hair is brushed nicely, clean, and soft on his head. He looks fluffy and innocent, much like a kitten. Cats are brutal and disloyal. How could Wooyoung let this man with obvious ulterior motives get anywhere near him? 
     He grabs your arm, and you let out a noise of confusion as he pulls you to his chest. “I missed you, Youngie~” he mumbles, squishing his cheek against your head as he holds you tight to him. 
     You squirm ‘cause, fuck, it’s awful, but it doesn’t seem like he even notices your struggle. He just holds you there effortlessly until he’s content. Then, with a gentle kiss to the side of your head, he walks away as if he hadn’t just fucking assaulted you. 
     You shook your head, wiping away the kiss he’d left against your hair. Ew. Ewewewew. A hug? A KISS?!?!?! Fuck, you’re going to throw up. Your cheeks are so hot, you literally are going to end it all right here. This is it. You’ve had enough, and it’s been, like, twenty seconds.
     You take a deep, mind-cleansing breath. “Ya-!”
     “Wooyoung~!” There’s Yeosang blocking your raging view of Choi San in an instant, and you shut your mouth. 
     “Yeosang!” you exclaim, reaching out and grabbing his hands excitedly. You bring them up to your chest and grin, gazing at his beautiful features. He’s grown so much. He’s still so handsome. 
     Yeosang is like a little brother to you despite being older. He’s a sweet angel who could do no wrong. You trust this boy with your life, and if anything happens to him, you’ll literally kill the man who hurt him. Is it wrong that you imagine it to be Choi San in your recent scenarios? 
     “Yeosang~ Yeosang~” you sing, wiggling your hands back and forth as he just stares at you with a happy smile. “Did you eat today? Did you eat yesterday?” You reach up and poke his cheek, your eyes shining happily as your finger sinks nicely into his soft skin. He shies away, scrunching his cheek to his shoulder, blushing lightly. What a cutie. 
     “What about you,” he mumbles, eying your interlocked fingers. “Your fingers are so thin.” He squeezes your hand gently, and you grin.
     “Of course,” you say, though you in fact did not eat this morning or last night. You’ll probably be hungry by lunchtime, so you’ll eat then. 
     “That’s enough, Yeosangie…” Yeosang is pulled away by the waist, two thick arms wrapping around him and taking him from you. You drop your hands to your sides, feeling agitation build as you already know who it is. You glance up to see a pouting Choi San resting his chin on Yeosang’s shoulder, holding him hostage a few feet away. 
     “Hey, Choi San,” you say through gritted teeth. “We were talking.”
     He shakes his head. “No. You were flirting with each other. I know it.” Why does this man talk in pout? Open your fucking lips and speak. “Yeosang is mine. You can���t have him.”
     You feel a thick vein on your neck bulge as you restrain your lips from opening in a round of profanities. So he wants Wooyoung and Yeosang? He wants them both?
     “San-ah,” Yeosang giggles shyly, trying to pry open San’s arms without any success. “We have to go practice.”
     San sighs, slowly letting a fleeing Yeosang slip from his grip. As everyone gathers by the mirror, San offers you a soft, cat-like smile, but you turn away. He will get zero engagement from you. For your own sake, honestly. He makes you want to rip your shirt open and reveal your secret and shove this fucking binder in his mouth until he talks like a normal fucking human. 
     You take a deep breath. That was uncalled for. Violence is not okay… Violence is not the answer…
     “Young-ah~” You’ve gotten used to his voice by the end of practice. He always has something to say, whether it’s a useless compliment or hyping up the room like you’re all some crazy fangirls and not the performers. He’s always gotta do something so fucking extra. 
     He leans his arm around your shoulder, and you shrug it off, walking just a bit faster to Wooyoung’s car. 
     “Youngie, I went to the plushie shop down the street from that one ramen place with the nice old lady, and they had one of those…” You had to master the art of giving so few fucks to the point of being deaf as you grew up alongside Wooyoung. His voice was fading into the abyss within seconds.
     By the time you reach your car, you try to go inside quickly, but he tugs on the sleeve of your sweatshirt and holds you just a foot away from your exit. “What’s wrong, Wooyoung?” he asks softly. You turn around, liking how he’s finally noticing your attitude. Maybe he’ll be a quick learner. “Are you hungry?” As he’s met with your bratty glare, he pokes your stomach but pulls away before you can push him. “Do you want me to buy you mint choco ice cream?” He smirks as if the offer would be enticing in the slightest. Fuck, does Wooyoung like that toothpaste shit? 
     Before he pries any further, you get in the car and lock the door. He steps away pretty easily with a defeated sigh. You drive off with a small huff as you feel your cheeks simmer down from their red, heated boil. Choi San. Choi San. Fuck, you’re going insane.
     “You can’t be mean to him,” Wooyoung says plainly. “He’s a soft, delicate romantic. You’ll break his heart.”
     “I could not care less,” you say, collapsing on the depression-colored bed, with a long, dramatic sigh. 
     “Trust meeee,” he whines. “You’re gonna love him. He’s my best friend.” 
     “Yeosang is your best friend,” you correct. “There’s no way you’re friends with that.” 
     “That?” he scoffs. “He’s my second best friend, and so what? He’s sexy and kind!” 
     “He’s lewd, Wooyoung. He’s out to exploit you, I’m telling you!” You’re taking slow breaths before you lose your shit on your pathetic brother. He already has too much going on. You should save his ears for now.
     Wooyoung’s quiet on the other end for a long moment. “Good luck at the performance tomorrow,” he says with a huff. “I heard you’re better at dancing than me.”
     “Who said that?” you chuckle. 
     “Sannie.”
     You know the poor maknae is trying to sleep next door, but as soon as you jam your finger into your phone to end the call, you throw it across the room and slam your head into your pillow, and you let out a fuming, long, guttural, muffled scream. 
     You’ve never performed for an actual audience before. Sure you did your evaluations back in your trainee days, but this is so different. You’ve never dolled up so much in your life. You’ll have to dance and sing like a professional for, like, almost an hour under the watch of thousands of crazy fans. 
     You’re standing completely still on the second step of the stairs leading to the stage. Your heart is beating like crazy, and you don’t know how to calm it down. You’re Wooyoung. You’re cool and awesome and everyone loves you. It doesn’t help much. 
      Fuck, when are you going out? You’ve been standing here forever. You don’t want to go out. I mean, you do, obviously. You’re kind of curious why your brother is so addicted to this life. You want to feel the thrill he always talks about. 
     Two thick hands are gently placed on your hips, but you push them away immediately, swerving around to come face-to-face with Choi. San. 
     “Don’t be nervous, Young-ah,” he says with a wide smile. “You’re so sexy.”
     Your face contorts in disgust. “Don’t say that,” you scoff, eyeing his arrogant dimples as they crease further.
     “You like it, though,” he says slyly, his eyes squinting as his lips pucker into a small, scrunched smile. “It’s your favorite compliment.”
     “I don’t like compliments,” you deny, popping your brows as he gives a satisfying, confused little expression.
     “You’re blushing, though,” he says, reaching slowly to poke your pink cheek. You smack his hand away.
     “Don’t touch me,” you say strictly, your eyes boring into his as he holds his hand to his chest, clearly offended. 
     “Why?” he says, turning away as he huffs. “Are you too hot? Will I get burnt?”
     “Yes!” you nearly shout, sticking your face closer to his as you scowl. “So don’t touch me. Don’t even think about it!”
     He blows you a sweet kiss as you turn around with deeply furrowed brows. 
     “Ya…” Seonghwa whispers from above you. You look up slowly, your ears ringing in the sudden silence. “They’ll hear you, Wooyoung,” he mumbles, placing a finger to his lips. “Be quiet.”
     “Yeah, be quiet, Wooyoung,” San whispers, and you nearly sock him in the face. 
     Violence is the answer after the performance. Deep breaths. Calm… down…
     Performing is oddly comforting. A place where you can jump and run and dance and sing and shout and everyone fucking loves it. Fuck, it feels so nice. You get it within the first few songs – why Wooyoung is addicted to this life. It’s fucking awesome. 
     Standing there, dancing with a grin from ear to ear, an arm drapes over your shoulders and pulls you close. You don’t even care. The fans eat it up. They scream and squeal and call out your names. 
     Your eyes meet Choi San’s, the two of you swaying and vibing with the music. He grins, his brows softly scrunched as he shouts out the lyrics of someone else’s part. No one can hear him, but he shouts it anyway, and he’s banging his head, messing up the beautiful work the stylists had done to his black hair. He’s so stupid, is all you can think at all. How can someone be so fucking stupid? 
     He brings the mic to his lips, and his head stills, his eyes locked in yours. You can hear him now, and, wow, his voice is really pretty. Of course, someone stupid can have a pretty voice. It’s not unheard of. Whatever.
     You shrug his arm off and hop to the other side of the stage. 
     “Fuck yeahhh!!!!!” you exclaim as you leap down the stairs backstage. Your fists are jumping the air as you squeal, punching and swinging until you’re panting by yourself against the wall, leaning back against it with a wide grin.
     You’re breathing so fast, your heart racing, and your chest hurts like crazy, but you’re still so fired up, too happy and excited to care. That was so fun. You miss it already. You want to go back up on stage. You want to sing more songs. You want…
     Fuck, it’s really hard to breathe when you do so much without any breaks. Your smile is slowly fading as you try to concentrate on your breath. You bring your hands to your chest in confusion, feeling the tight binder under your grasp. It hasn’t caused problems before. It shouldn’t fucking start causing problems now. 
     But you feel your face turning red, and you aren’t angry at all. You can’t fucking breathe.
     You choke on your next inhale, bending over as you break out in breathless coughs and gasps. Fuck, fuck! Your eyes are gonna pop the fuck out. You’re grabbing at your shirt, inhaling desperately, but nothing fucking comes in! The ground is getting too close… 
     Your forehead slams against the ground before the rest of your body follows. You can’t even shout or cry, your body curling in on itself as your vision turns to static, your hearing gone, your sense tingling. 
     You’re lifted delicately and slowly from the ground, your eyes closed with hot tears streaming down your cheeks. You wish that hit was enough to knock you out, but here you are in agonizing pain. 
     “Young-ah!” San must be here. You’re sitting now… on the floor. You can hardly open your eyes, but you feel his hands rushing to carefully remove your stage top. You’re wearing several layers on top of the binder, but alarm shoots through you when you see him taking them off one by one. Your eyes open wide, and you push him away with a gasp. He falls back, his brows furrowed in confusion. You clutch what’s left of your top, breathing heavily as you grit your teeth, your jaw trembling. 
     “Get out,” you say, hardly able to say it loud enough for his stupid fucking ears to hear. “Get out!” He doesn’t want to go. It’s clear, but you don’t need his help. “I’m fine,” you mutter. “I just need some time alone. I got dizzy.” 
     He slowly gets up, feeling a little speechless, a little betrayed. But he leaves finally, and you rush into a stall, lock the door, and tear the binder from your chest. You can breathe, and you collapse onto the toilet, gulping the air down as you lean your head against the wall beside you. Your heart can finally calm down, your breaths steadying nicely. But your chest pulls tight quickly as you start to regain some sense in your spinning mind.
     This is so humiliating. 
     How could you almost let yourself get caught like that? How could you let yourself succumb to the weak efforts of the traitor wrapped around your chest? You grip the binder with a newfound hatred, glaring at it as your ears turn a deep shade of red.
     No, it isn’t even your fault. It’s this fucking thing’s fault! And once everything’s over, you’re gonna make Choi San wear it for twice the time you will. He needs it more than you anyway with his massive… You glance away from your hands when you witness your fingers scrunch like a pervert in your lap. 
     Whatever. It’s not a big deal anyway. 
     “What are you doing here?” you ask, entering the code to your room with tired, hooded eyes. San is wearing pajamas, and he’s showered and squeaky clean, but his presence alone stinks like a possessive stalker cat. That’s a real thing. “It’s been a long day. Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” Don’t cats sleep more than this? Why is he suddenly acting like he could be human?
     “You owe me,” he mumbles, and you eye him, pausing as you open the door. He’s pouting, looking away stubbornly. “For making me worry.”
     “Are you serious?”
     He turns defensively, pointing at your chest but not daring to touch you. “How am I supposed to sleep if I don’t see you’re okay, first?” he argues, his brows raised as he looks at you expectantly. You say nothing.
     So he just goes inside. You don’t stop him. You’re too tired to stop him. You just want to shower and go to sleep. The stage was fun, but you’ve never been more exhausted in your entire life. You’ve never been tired enough to not get angry. It’s a first. 
     But when you’re done showering, changing, skincaring, and refreshing, and you finally have a soft, natural smile on your face, you’re met with a cat lying on your bed, fast asleep. He’s curled up in your blankets, his face buried in your pillow, his chest enveloping YOUR plushie. 
     Absolutely not.
     He groans at the disturbance as you grab his hair. He isn’t in pain as you pull his head up, glaring at his half-asleep features, and you know because he doesn’t even bother opening his eyes to wake up. 
     “Get out of my bed,” you say. He smiles a small little devilish smile. 
     “But it’s a sleepover,” he grumbles, and you drop his head to the pillow with an exasperated scoff. 
     “Are you a child?” you ask in disbelief.
     “Yes, now, go to sleep,” he mumbles, drifting away again.
     “No,” you say sternly. “I want to sleep alone. Leave.”
     He looks up at you then, a shimmer in his pleading eyes, but you don’t let up. You keep your glare sharp and persistent until he sighs and starts to drag himself up, his body rolling to sitting dramatically. He gets up with a loud huff and stares at you as if giving you a final chance to change your mind. 
     “Get out,” you say, pushing him lightly. He hardly budges. “Get out, get out, get out… I’m so tiiired.” You push him again and again with each huff until he’s at the door, and you close it in his stupid face. And, finally, you’re alone. 
     You throw the covers back and shove your legs under them, ignoring how warm he made the bed as you roughly snuggle into your favorite spot. Your phone vibrates just as you let out a content, sleepy sigh. You open your eyes with an irritated stare at the bright light on your bedside table. Your face is shown on the screen, an old photo from your trainee days. You know the photo. Yeosang is on your right and Wooyoung is on your left, but he cropped both of them out. He said it’s the only picture he has of you where you’re genuinely smiling and really, truly happy. For that, he loves it. Sometimes your brother can be sweet.
     You put the phone next to your ear so no one can hear him from another room. 
     “Ya, are you being mean to him?” 
     Your eyes roll to the back of your brain, trembling and hurting before you let them back down. “No,” you answer.
     “You’re a liar,” he scoffs. “There’s a clip going viral of you and San, you know.”
     You raise a brow. “A clip?”
     “Atiny love Woosan interactions,” he sighs. “They eat it up.”
     “Uh huh,” you breathe, more interested in the shadows on the ceiling than this fucking lecture. 
     “You two were giving the audience what they really wanted to see,” he sighs, “but then you rolled your eyes at him and scurried away like a cat!” He’s laughing at you, wheezing like an idiot as you feel your face grow hot.
     “Cats are evil,” you mutter. “I’m not a fucking cat.”
     “Don’t lie to yourself,” he laughs. “You’re the definition of a cattitude.”
     “What the fuck is that?” you huff, two seconds away from hanging up the phone. Why did he even call you anyway? To nag you about playing with this manipulative evil Choi San? He can talk your ear off all he wants, but no one gets to act in such a way around you or your brother, and he’ll learn that soon. 
     “Listen, listen…” He’s trying to calm his breath as he settles his laughter. “I know you hate that kind of fanservice, but you really should put in some effort, Y/n,” he sighs. “If you, or, me and San are visibly separated like that, people are gonna ask questions. Including the members.”
     “Maybe it’s about time you change things up anyway,” you huff.
     “You’re ridiculous.”
     “I’m tired. Good night.” 
     You don’t let him finish before you hang up the phone and turn over to shut your eyes. You start to calm down a little as you let the warmth of the bed sink into your skin. It’s never been this warm this quick before, and it’s making you so drowsy, even after a rise in your heart rate. You fall asleep in no time. 
     And good sleep brings good attitude, so the morning is bright and nice for your mind. You wake up feeling refreshed and leave bed not dreading the day. Until you open your door, and all of that disappears quickly when you take a step out and find your foot squishing into a giant man’s chest. 
     You scurry away, almost screaming, cause what the fuck? 
     Choi San has set up camp outside your bedroom door, snoozing away with pillows and blankets lining the hall in a fluffy makeshift bed. His hair is a mess as he lifts his head in confusion, and his sleepy eyes meet yours in thin, happy slits. 
     “Good morning, Youngie,” he mumbles. You immediately scratch the little skip your heart did at the sound of his morning voice. 
     You’re starting to grow hot with anger as you look at the mess, think about everything, and think about everything once more. How could he sleep there?! You told him to go away! How could he just ignore that boundary and sleep outside your room?! Your cheeks are growing pink, but you shake your thoughts away. You must not engage. You should just go. Then, you won't see him anymore, and you can't possibly be mad anymore. 
     You step with huffing breaths past his limbs under the blankets and stomp away to the kitchen. Maybe some food will make you happy again. 
     You’ve found that Wooyoung has made a lot of promises before leaving them for you to go through with. 
     You’ve had to make Jongho dinner at least three times so far, always being met with puppy eyes and pouty lips saying, “You promised.” Fuck that! You can’t even fucking cook. You’re ruining your brother’s reputation, and, you know what, you can’t even find yourself to care with how hard he’s making you work. 
     Yunho was promised a whole night of gaming. You haven’t played a video game since you were a trainee. You can hear his disappointment each time you die immediately, but he’s too nice to yell at you. 
     You have to go out to eat with Yeosang, but you don’t mind that actually. 
     San claims to be promised many things, but you break those without a second thought. 
     And Seonghwa was promised a lego live and slumber party in his room. 
     You’ve gotten to know Seonghwa well over the past few weeks, and you like him. He’s cute and takes good care of the members, but he has this elegance to him that makes interacting with him so pleasant. So you agree to do the live, and you agree to sleep over, even if he’s Choi San’s roommate. 
     Immediately this seems like something you won’t be good at. The lights are dim, the camera is pointed at your face, and the pieces are so tiny, scrambled in little bags over the table. The space is small. His room is small, to begin with, but he invited you here because you would be working on the same set, so it’s okay if the pieces get scrambled a bit. 
     Seonghwa is the cleanest person you’ve ever met, which comforts you to some extent. Everything about this room is calming. It’s all neat and organized, and your eyes have no reason to find anything about it annoying. You love it. But you know this little craft will make you go insane. You already know, and you haven’t touched a single piece. 
     “Hi, everyone,” he says softly to the camera. His voice is so gentle, much like his movement as he waves. “Wooyoung finally is joining me to build legos with Atiny.”
     “Hi, hi,” you say with a wide smile to showcase Wooyoung’s playful dimples. 
     “I’m excited for today, maybe more than Tiny is,” he mumbles, smiling to himself as he plays with his computer to make sure everything’s looking nice. “Wooyoung promised a slumber party today.” He covers his mouth as he huffs a shy laugh. “So he has to spend a lot of time with his hyung.”
     You huff a laugh too, nodding. “Honestly, this week’s been a little stressful for me, but I think I’ll be able to relax well thanks to him.”
     Honestly, you’re so fucking nervous. So many things could go wrong. So many things could set you off. There are so many things to be worried about, and… You won’t be able to take off the binder until you go back home… and who knows if you’ll be able to until tomorrow night…
    You swallow your thoughts to the pit of your fluttering stomach as you try to bring your focus back to the soft aroma around you. 
     Seonghwa’s telling the fans about his day and the set as he starts to open the first bag. You take a subtly deep breath. 
     The live goes relatively well. You have to excuse yourself to the restroom only once from frustration, running cold water over your flushed cheeks to drain out the color a little. Other than that, assembling legos is nice, and Seonghwa is a relaxing yet engaging person to interact with. It… makes you forget… everything. It’s like you’re truly meant to be there. It feels natural. It makes your mind fade gently into this little life, even if just for an hour or so. It makes you forget your anger.
     Until you’re alone again, and this feeling is even more familiar. This is how it usually is. You’ve grown accustomed to being delighted by some peoples’ presence or angered by others, but your roots are truly engraved in you. It’s a bit empty… staring at yourself in the mirror on Seonghwa’s wall and realizing you don’t actually belong here. The illusion that you’re meant here or suddenly not lonely… is being written into your head too deep. It should stop before you get attached. 
     The binder wrapped around your chest is so uncomfortable, especially since you’ve been wearing it for the entire day. You should take it off, even if it’s just for a few minutes. It feels wrong taking it off in a stranger’s room, but-!
     Your head whips around as the door opens, and Choi San walks inside. You cover your chest with the shirt in your hand immediately, your eyes bulging and heart stopped, but he doesn’t even pay you any attention, stumbling by and collapsing on Seonghwa’s bed. His eyes are closed, his body limp and tired. You throw the shirt over your head and take a deep breath. 
     “I was changing,” you mutter, your body practically shaking as you try not to scream at him. “You couldn’t knock?”
     “Hm…?” he grumbles, lifting his head sleepily. “Hi, Young-ah.”
     “Choi San!” you shout, covering your mouth quickly to pinch your fucking lips shut. You’re turning red. This is so humiliating. He obviously doesn’t care. Wooyoung probably wouldn’t care. But you fucking care, and you can’t even tell him why. “Knock next time,” you force out quietly. He hums in acknowledgment, but you hardly hear it as you leave the room. 
     You can’t do this. You’ll tell Seonghwa you don’t feel good, and he’ll let you go. He’ll be sad, but whatever. You can’t deal with that bastard. You can’t fucking do it. 
     But Seonghwa looks so excited when you come out in the matching pajamas he got for the slumber party. He’s gasping and fangirling over you as you stomp over to him. Each step seems to become just a little softer as his smile numbs your tantrum. 
     “Ya~!” He takes you in as you stand a few feet away. “Jung Wooyoung? Who are you? You’re too pretty to be Wooyoung,” he compliments. You might’ve frozen up at something like that, but, for some reason, you take it without a second thought, smiling proudly like a cute kitten, folding your arms at your sides as you pose for him. 
     No. You can’t stay. You need to leave. 
     “H..yung,” you mumble, the word a little unfamiliar to your lips. “Actually, I…”
     “Seriously,” he huffs, coming closer, and you shut your mouth. He leans down and stares intently at your features. You can’t help but look away, your cheeks growing red as he examines you. “Your face has been so cute lately,” he mumbles. “Are you in love?”
     “No,” you scoff.
     “Are you lying?”
     “I’m not!” you mumble, backing away slightly. He looks at you in disbelief. “I’m really not!” 
     “You’ve gotten a little shorter too.. ya… Do you wear high platforms to seem taller?”
     Three centimeters isn’t even that much shorter… How could he notice something like that..? You nod, rolling your eyes. “So what?”
     “It’s not good to wear them too much,” he sighs as he walks by.
     “Whatever,” you huff, patting your cheeks as you let your quiet panic settle down. He doesn’t actually suspect anything. He’s just calling Wooyoung cute, which is a very valid observation.
     “No,” Seonghwa says sternly when he walks into his room to see a snoozing cat on his bed. “No, get out.” 
     He grabs San’s ankles and pulls him up the bed. San just groans and lets himself get dragged, his shirt riding up his torso until he’s at the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor, his toned stomach on full display, and you… You look away, letting Seonghwa take care of the hindrance. 
     “Hyung,” San whines. “No one will play with me!” 
     Seonghwa scoffs. “San, what’s with you these days? Everyone hangs out with you all the time, but you keep complaining 'cause you don’t want to.”
     “I want to play with Wooyoungie,” he says, smiling as his eyes meet yours for less than a second. “He’s so cute lately, but he won’t play with me anymore.” He frowns, looking frustratingly at the ceiling. “I don’t know if I should like it or hate it.”
     “You should hate it,” you say, unable to stop yourself. “And you should get out. The room isn’t big enough for your broad shoulders.”
     He glares at you, but you don’t care. That’s what you want. But when Seonghwa tries to drag him out again, he refuses. 
     “Hyung, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for saying I didn’t want to play with you. Please let me stay. I’m so bored. Please?” 
     There is NOT enough room for you, Hyung, and Choi San’s huge ass shoulders, and you’re so fucking close to chopping them off and shoving them through his pouty lips as he eats YOUR cake. The movie isn’t entertaining, despite your attempts to understand it for Seonghwa’s sake, so you're left with your mind focused on every little hindrance he brings to this otherwise nice night. 
     “You know, Choi San, there’s a lot of room on the floor for people with wide shoulders,” you huff. 
     He gives you a wide smile, shoving his dimples into your hooded eyes. “There’s room on my lap for little brats.” 
     You scoff, glaring at his brows as they raise. He pats his lap expectedly, but you look away with a huff. 
     “You could at least let us eat the cake we bought for us,” you grumble. “Instead of gobbling it up yourself.” 
     “No,” he says. “Seonghwa stole and ate my cake, so he doesn’t deserve any of his.” You eye him in disbelief. Is he a child? “But Wooyoungie can have as much as he wants.” He holds up a big bite, smiling big as he waits for you to chomp it off the fork. 
     “No thanks,” you decline. “You ate from that fo-”
     He pinches your puffed-out cheeks together and opens your mouth, the cake pushed inside and smooshed against your teeth as he feeds you the bite. Your brows knit together as he pulls his hand away. 
     “Isn’t it tasty?” he asks, and you shake your head out of spite. “You’re so cute,” he laughs, his thumb wiping away some cream from your bottom lip. He brings it to his own and licks it off without a second thought.
     Your eye twitches as you force your head to turn back to the TV. You should calm down. If your tight fists happened to collide with his face, Seonghwa wouldn’t like it very much. For Seonghwa’s sake, you should just ignore him. 
     But San’s shoulders are just so wide. Every time he tries to move, he bumps into you, and you can’t stop yourself from bumping back. He glares at you, and you glare back, shoulder to shoulder. It’s a war. You use your hands this time, moving his arm further from your body, but he moves it back. 
     “Are you serious?” you whisper harshly.
     “Shh, I’m trying to watch the movie.”
     “Bullshit.”
     His eyes go wide. “Language!” he whispers, and you bump his shoulder in annoyance. 
     He doesn’t just do it back, though, he leans over and grabs your waist, and you jump. His fingers jab into your flesh, and the most uncomfortable sensation fills you. You’re helpless to his attack, pressed against the wall as he evades every defensive grab of your hands. 
     “Choi San,” you scold, but the jabs turn to tickles quickly, and an involuntary grin spreads across your gasping lips. “San, stop!” you laugh, pushing against his hands but failing as he keeps moving them to new places. You push against his chest hard, and he falls back a little, freezing when he bumps into the other man in the bed. 
     He turns his head around slowly, met with a blank expression from Seonghwa, simply trying to watch the movie.
     “We’re sorry, Hyung,” San mumbles, his head low. The floor is hard against your knees, but you honestly deserve it after ruining the night Seonghwa planned. “We got carried away.”
     “What’s up with you two?” he sighs, standing in disappointment above the both of you. “Why are you at each other’s throats every two seconds these days?”
     “He started it,” you mumble.
     “I’m sorry, Hyung,” San says, trying not to laugh, and you glare at him. “He’s just so cute when he’s mad.”
     “Seriously, San?” Seonghwa sighs.
     “It’s not my fault he looks extra… adorable lately! Like-!” He turns to you with great determination, motioning toward your features one by one. “His eyes are bigger, his lashes are longer, his nose is prettier, his lips are plumper, his mole…” He squints his eyes, but you cover your cheek quickly.
     “I’m wearing makeup,” you mumble.
     He moves your hand without much effort. “No, you’re not… Where’s your mole…” he mumbles. 
     “I…” Your eyes shoot from San to Seonghwa. “It..”
     “You see what I mean?” he huffs, resting his case. “How do I put it… He’s so… different these days. I feel my heart flutter when he looks at me.”
     “Please,” you scoff.
     “Really!” he defends, backing away a little as you feel your anger rise. He can probably sense the shift in the atmosphere by now. “I don’t know what to do with myself, Hyung.” He turns back to Seonghwa. “So… it’s not really my fault.”
     So San is kicked out to his own room to sleep. You argued his shoulders are far too wide for the room. Seonghwa agreed, and now it’s finally just the two of you in your matching pajamas. 
     “We’re so cute.” He smiles, happily biting into the strawberry cream cake sitting between you two. “We should have slumber parties more often.”
     You nod, melting as you take another bite. “And I understand why you love building legos now,” you mumble. “It was very comforting.”
     There’s a nice, long moment of silent cake-eating as you both delight in its taste without a greedy cat eating it all. 
     “Wooyoung,” he says. “You know… if you keep acting so obvious about it, people will realize…”
     You shoot your eyes up from the cake, your heart stopping for a moment. “What?”
     He reaches out and taps just below your eye. “That you removed your mole.”
     Your brows lift as relief fills you. “Oh! My mole!” you laugh, and he laughs too, nodding. 
     “I know you don’t really want to bring attention to it, but you’re so bad at keeping secrets.” 
     You nod, taking another stressful bite. “Thank you, Hyung. I’ll work on it.”
     You both finish the cake and giggle and talk all night until you glance at the clock and gasp because it’s almost two in the morning. You rush to wash up and get into bed, still giggling over stupid things. But as soon as the light is off and the room goes silent, you feel yourself dying down and drifting off quickly, like some teenagers after a long day. 
     Seonghwa’s bed is small, but there’s enough room for the two of you to drift off in your own areas. Seonghwa falls asleep first, making small sighs and mumbles as he snoozes away. It’s so cute. You listen to him for a while before you finally let your mind rest. 
     Wooyoung messages you every morning, telling you to eat and to be kind and shit, but this morning is different. It’s been a few days since your slumber party with Seonghwa, and everything has fallen into place. It all really feels like routine by now, like this is natural for you. Until you’re hit with a fucking brick, remembering the reality of the situation once again. 
Y/n-nie: you got a notification..what does two days left mean??
Y/n-nie: ??
Y/n-nie: are you going to kill someone? are you counting down… IS IT CHOI SAN?!?
Y/n-nie: DONT FUCKING TOUCH HIM!
     You put the phone down and stare at the wall. Your period. You’d completely forgotten about the monthly punishment for being female. 
     You have no pads… You have no comfort items. Do they keep pain medicine in the dorms? How the fuck will you gather supplies without anyone knowing? Especially considering that leech, Choi San. 
     Fuck, now that you’re awake, there’s definitely an ache forming. That useless app never guesses right. It always comes a day or so early. You groan as you force yourself out of bed.
     The convenience store down the street has everything you need. You’re biting your lip to wait until you have some water to ease the pain with a pill, so you rush back to the dorm. 
     Jongho is eating breakfast when you trudge back inside. He looks over curiously at the sound of the plastic bag. 
     “What did you buy so early in the morning?” he asks. “Did you sneak out so you could get a sweet treat for yourself?” he accuses.
     “No,” you grumble, pulling the bag a little behind your back so he can’t see. “It’s nothing.”
     He immediately gets up, and you back away. “Why are you hiding it then?” he asks, raising a brow. He reaches behind you, but you pull it away. 
     “It’s nothing,” you mumble, your cramps worsening as you stand still. “Go eat your breakfast. I have to go get ready.”
     “Hyung, you’re the worst liar,” he chuckles, and his hand snags the bag. You grab it back, pulling and keeping it closed as he tries to peek inside. You rip the bag in half as you try to get it back, but you snatch the pads midair and run to your room. 
     You really can’t do this right now. You’re bent over, leaned against the locked door as you try to ground yourself. It takes slow steps to make it to the bathroom. There are just a few small drops of blood on your panties, so you ignore them and stick a pad over. But you can’t get up. The pain has tripled since you walked through your bedroom door. There’s a growing buzz vibrating in your head as you lean it against the cold tile of the wall. Fuck, you hope you don’t pass out here. You’re sweating, hot and limp yet tense in your core, or else you think your guts might fall out. You feel like you might throw up, but that should pass quickly if you wait patiently. You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut as the pain only gets worse. And the binder around your chest… fuck, you can’t breathe. You take it off and leave it on the floor as you stumble to wash your hands and make it to the bed. 
     You search for the medicine you bought, but it’s not on the counter or floor or anything. You take a deep breath to hold in your frustration and just make it your goal to curl up in bed. 
     It feels a little better, no binder, soft surface, fluffy blankets draped over you, your legs pulled loosely to your chest as you lay limply on your side. You have a schedule today, but it’s not too important. You should tell your manager you’re sick, but you don’t have your phone near you. You can’t even begin to think of where that might be.
     There’s a soft knock at your door, and it takes a second for you to call out for them to just come in. 
     “Sorry, Young-ah,” San says softly as he peeks inside. “You must’ve been sleeping.”
     “No, it's okay,” you mumble, honestly just a little relieved to have something for your mind to be focused on that isn’t the knives stabbing into you. 
     He steps inside and closes the door. “Are you okay?” he asks as he takes in the view of you. You’re sweating and breathing heavily, curled into yourself. “Do you have a fever?”
     “I…It hurts all over,” you mumble, and his expression changes from worry to pain as he watches you shift and whimper softly.
     He leans down, his face just inches from yours as he gazes at your features, gently tucking away the hair in front of your eyes. “Close your eyes, baby, I’ll make you feel better.”
     If you could move at all, you’d punch yourself at the way your heart flutters just slightly. Instead, you listen and close your eyes, gazing just a second longer at his gentle features. 
     “Youngie~” It’s such a gentle voice, a sweet hum to your pounding ears. A soft hand is placed against your cheek, your head lifted slowly, as if not to disturb your sleep, as if you’re the most delicate thing to ever touch his skin. As if it’s actually carefilled, loving. 
     San’s face is clear even before his features straighten in your hazy gaze. His eyes are trained on your lips, careful fingers softly pushing two pills between them. A glass taps them then, and warm tea meets your tongue at a slow, patient pace. You swallow, a shiver gliding down your chest to your aching stomach as the delightful warmth of the tea touches your swollen insides. 
     “Did you eat yet today, Youngie?” he asks, placing your head back on the fluffy pillow. 
     “No,” you mumble. “I’m not hungry.”
     “You should eat something,” he says, and he starts to get up, but your eyes widen a little. If he leaves, your mind will focus on the pain, and it hurts so much. You reach out before you can even think and grab his sleeve. “I’ll be right back,” he says, gently clasping your hand as he tries to leave. “It’ll make you feel-”
     “Please stay,” you mumble. “Just for a little… It still hurts so much.” You pull a little, and he steps closer. “L-lay with me for a bit?” What are you even saying? You just… know he can make you feel better. You don’t care about anything except making the cramps disappear quickly. 
     The bed sinks softly as he lays behind you. Under the covers, a new warmth meets your back, a soft breath against your neck. You relax against him, feeling the subconscious tension in your limbs fall into his calming aroma. His body curls into yours, matching your form, bigger and warmer, keeping you perfectly content aside from the dulling ache. 
     “What’s wrong, Youngie?” he mumbles, his warm breath puffing gently across your skin. “Did you overwork yourself again?” 
     You lower your gaze to the movement of the blanket as he wraps his arm around your waist, his hand meeting your stomach. His fingers dip under your shirt, spreading across the width of your body, and you shudder at the feeling. You should probably move away. He could find out your secret. You wouldn’t mind. He could make you forget all about the pain and make you drift asleep with his touch. 
     “We love you, Wooyoung.” His thumb caresses your skin in slow rubs. “You can take your time, and we’ll always be here to listen to your troubles. You don’t have to keep them all to yourself.”
     You don’t say anything. It’s not really your place to say anything anyway. Even if… some people should know their place, it’s good to know Wooyoung has a family he can count on.
     You’ve mastered the art of Wooyoung. It’s been five weeks since you took your brother’s place, and you feel very immersed in the role. You’ve learned all of the inside jokes by now, figured out each of the members, and perfected almost all of their choreographies. You could become Wooyoung at this point, and no one would ever know. You survived your period without anyone knowing. Sure, everyone knew there was something wrong, pitying you the whole week while you wobbled around, but no one suspected a thing. You’re just too good at this. 
     “Sangie,” you mumble, chewing happily on the freshly grilled meat. “Should we visit my sister next time we have a break?” 
     Yeosang smiles at the sudden suggestion. “Sure. I haven’t seen her in years.” Oh, he’s so cute. 
     If Yeosang comes to visit you once you’re back in your old life, you’ll be able to get a glimpse of the little chapter in your boring life you actually enjoyed. So you’ll set up lots of dates and promises before you leave. Serves Wooyoung right anyway. 
     “Another bottle of soju, please!” Seonghwa calls out, sitting across from you at the table. He smiles when he catches your eye. “You’ve worked so hard, Wooyoung. Let it out tonight.”
     “Kay,” you mumble happily through your food.
     The company dinner is a nice reward after your endless effort to keep up with the schedule that comes with Wooyoung’s life. The food is delicious, the atmosphere is bustling and joyful, and you get to drink for the first time in fucking forever. 
     Every shot makes you melt into your seat, a content, relaxing sigh leaving your lips. Except… 
     “Youngie, plea~se!” There’s been a child whining in your ear the whole night. “Please do it with me?” 
     San’s face is bright red, his eyes glazed over as he rocks back and forth with a strong pout. You’re ignoring him, enjoying your food without even listening to his request. 
     “I’ll do anything,” he mumbles, feeling a little defeated. Your brow quirks at that.
     “Anything?” His posture fixes itself as soon as your eyes land on him, and he nods eagerly. 
     He’s so fucking drunk. He said he was a good drinker but got quiet after two shots. Then he started begging to have a competition. You might indulge… if it means you can get something from him. Amusement at watching him humiliate himself. You giggle to yourself before turning to him with a newfound encouragement. 
     “Pour the shots.”
     His hand is trembling as he clanks the bottle against your glass, nearly spilling the whole thing as he pulls away. You bring the glass to your lips when he does, and you catch his eye, a determined look in him. 
     One shot, and he’s breathing heavily, but he won’t give in. You’re a pretty good drinker, but you’ve already had a lot, and you’re getting pretty hazy yourself.
     Two shots. Three shots. Seven shots. You’ve finished two bottles, one each, and you can hardly keep your vision straight. He’s swaying back and forth, arms limp in his lap as he stares blankly at you. You both lost, but you probably won’t remember the whole event by morning, so you forget it, slamming your head to the table with a huff. 
     San mumbles something, as he gets up. Maybe he’s going to the bathroom. It would be so funny if he drops outside the toilet and everyone would see him. You snort to yourself. You wanna see it happen. 
     You stumble to your feet, following him through the tables to the bathrooms. It’s empty inside, quiet and dim. He goes in and stands by the mirror. He runs his fingers through his hair, groaning against his cool hands. 
     “Wooyoung… what are you doing to me…” His voice is so low and slurred, but you make out every word, and it fills you with rage. This again?! You thought by now he’d have learned his lesson and kept away, but he’s still going after you? No, after your brother?! You guess he’s so fucking slow, he needs it shoved in his face. 
     “Choi San!” you shout, and he looks up, shocked. “Shut the fuck up!” He frowns as you stomp over to him, looking guilty but not sure why. You grab his wrist and unhook that fucking binder. As it falls to the floor, you shove his hand under your shirt and onto your chest. His eyes widen like crazy as you scowl at him, his hand trembling. “I’m not fucking Wooyoung! And you need to learn your fucking place!” you shout, panting. “You don’t get to-!”
     “So that’s why…” he mumbles, his fingers twitching around your flesh. “I’ve wanted to fuck you lately…”
     Your face drops, your brows knitting together. “What?”
     “Fuck…” he groans, squeezing your breast as he takes in your flushed form against his. “That’s why your face is so pretty. I’ve wanted to kiss you so bad. Every time you yell at me, I’ve wanted to push you so far, so you just shove me to the ground and have your way with me.” He sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. “Because you’re not Wooyoung. I probably knew the whole time… you just can’t guess something like that.”
     “Yeah?” you scoff, and he nods, bringing his hands to your hips as he pulls you flush against him. “You’re a fucking liar. I know you just want to take advantage of Wooyoung.”
     “I’ve never thought of him like that until recently. Until it wasn’t him.”
     Fuck. Fuck! He’d practically known the whole time?! If he knew the differences right away, who knows if you even got away with any of it at all? You bite your lip, trembling with frustration and anger. 
     “You weren’t very good at hiding it… now that I think about it.” 
     You shove him against the wall, a deep scowl on your features. His grin as you shove your finger into his chest just fuels you even more. “Bastard,” you bite. “I worked day and night for fucking weeks, and you aren’t even surprised?! It wasn’t worth it at all?!”
     “Don’t be mad,” he coos, leaning forward again. 
     Your restraints are snapping one by one as you glare from his cat-like smile to his squinted eyes. He’s having the time of his life. You don’t even try to stop your hand from wrapping around his throat as he leans closer and closer. You close your fingers, tightening just as his lips meet yours with a low groan. 
     The movement is intense as soon as the flame is lit. His lips don’t fight for the dominance you place over his, your hand around his neck bringing him lower, closer to your dangerous taste. Your breaths are tangled, vocal, and quick as you kiss over and over in a maddening dance. 
     “Don’t fuck with me,” you growl, but his only response is to cup your face and bring you closer, biting your bottom lip gently before kissing it better.
     You glare at him as you tangle your hands in his hair, pulling lightly and fuming at the way he groans against your lips. What does this fucker not like? You really want to test his boundaries, make him regret playing with you. You want to push him to the ground and fucking destroy him just to watch him finally understand the authority you have over him. You-
     The door opens, and you’re both immediately separated, facing away from each other, pretending like nothing was happening. Jongho walks in, pausing when he sees the view. San’s messy hair, sticking up like it was clearly grabbed, your flushed faces, the piece of clothing at San’s feet. San kicks it behind him quickly. 
     Jongho gives a blank look. “Did you two fight again?” he asks, used to the cat fights by now. “Anyway, we’re going home. Come on, Hyung.” He motions for you to come, and you almost hesitate. If not for the much-needed clarity Jongho’s interruption brought, you would’ve done so much more damage. You would have ruined everything. You rush out of the room behind him. 
     “You can’t yet. We’re almost done here. Hold out for a little longer.” 
     “No. Fuck this! I can’t do this, Wooyoung! I’m going crazy!” you shout into your phone. “I…” You can’t fucking tell him. You’re being swayed by the members. Changed and warped into something you’re not. You’re starting to like it here, and you need to go back to your life… where no one else will ever bother you, and you can live alone again. Forever. “I need to get out of here,” you say.
     “Just one more week,” he says. “Please…” 
     One more week. “Fine.”
     But you’re not going to be nice about it. 
     San doesn’t talk to you, and you don’t talk to him, but you feel his eyes on you while you’re all practicing for an upcoming festival performance. He’s looking blankly. Maybe he doesn’t even remember what happened. But it doesn’t matter. You’ll never see him again after this performance. And you’re so fucking glad. 
     “Hyung, come on! Get into it!” Jongho shouts, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror. 
     You give him an annoyed look, your head hurting too much to care much for the dance. The music is pounding in your ears, but you move anyway. They’re lucky they get that from you after a late night of drinking.
     “Hyung,” Jongho chuckles. “Why are you so down?” He leans in, giving you a suddenly serious expression. You lean away. “Is it ‘cause you and Sannie are fighting again?” 
     You eye him. “Yeah,” you mumble. “He’s a fucking jerk.”
     He laughs, smacking your chest, and you flinch. He keeps his hand there, though, raising a brow. You step away. “Hyung, are you working out more? Is Sannie forcing you to go to the gym with him? Is that why you’re always mad at him?” He goes to feel your chest again, but a veiny, furious hand grabs his wrist. 
     “Don’t touch people like that, Jongho,” a tight-voiced San spits bitterly. Jongho’s eyes grow a little wide as he tries to retract his hand. 
     “Fuck,” he grumbles, finally snatching his arms back, rubbing his wrist. “Sorry.” You’ve never seen the maknae so quick to listen, giving an annoyed look before walking away. 
     You don’t even bother with San, just walk away. Your head is fucking throbbing.
     “Get it together,” is all Hongjoong has to say to you and San when he pulls you aside the night before the performance in Japan. It’s obvious the chemistry and friendship Woosan have that the fans love is missing. It’s obvious to everyone that something is going on, and you’re just being petty, but you don’t fucking care. 
     After ignoring him for a week, though, you think you can get away with it. Until those bastards fucking lock you into a closet. They lure you in, and, suddenly, it’s just you, San, and a room hardly big enough for one person. 
     Your chest to his, feet staggered, breath against breath, and the need to fucking kill someone are all resting in this dimly lit closet. 
     “You two can come out when you’ve made up,” Hongjoong sighs. “If you miss the performance, so be it. You have thirty minutes.”
     “This is your fucking fault,” you scoff as soon as you hear him walk away.  
     “My fault? As if you didn’t lie to everybody and then make everything complicated by kissing me,” he argues. 
     “Me? You literally said you’d been thinking about fucking me!” you whisper aggressively. 
     “I was drunk!” 
     “So was I!”
     Your faces are hardly separated at all, your words and breaths mixing as the closet grows hotter and hotter. 
     “You! You lust after my brother! You’re a bastard!”  
     His brows twist in confusion. “I do not. He’s my best friend… I don’t like him like that!” 
     “Liar! We look exactly the same!” 
     He shakes his head quickly. “You have prettier eyes! They’re bigger, and the color is different!” He points to each feature, gazing at them with determination. “You have a cuter nose than him! Your lips are softer than his! Your hair is softer than his! Your jawline isn’t so defined! You have the cutest features that obviously aren’t his! Your body is smaller and the perfect shape! Your expressions are cuter! You get mad all the time, but you make the cutest face! You don’t even understand how unlike him you are! You’re so obviously Y/n! So maybe I did fall for you a bit when I thought you were your brother, but it’s because of those changes that make you so different from him! Because you’re fucking adorable!”
     He’s panting, scowling even, as you just stare at him. Honestly, you blanked out. You didn’t even hear the end. Your name rolled from his lips without a second thought. You can’t decide if it hurts your heart or fumes it with rage, or even if it makes you happy. You’re so conflicted, just staring in silence. 
     When the door opens again twenty minutes later, you’re both still staring in silence. Despite the threat, you both have to perform without giving evidence of reconciliation. 
     And, being on stage again, you’ve decided that you’re fucking pissed. Your mind goes a little blank as you perform the choreo you’ve recited for hours on end, day after day, just for your brother. You’re fuming, glaring at the crowd, the fans of your brother. The members who laugh and dance with your brother. Each move that adds to that fucking reputation you’re here to protect. For your brother. And the man who you came here to put in his place so that your brother is never hurt. The man who you refuse to accept you want just because he’s your brother’s best friend, and you need to protect your brother’s image and do every fucking thing for HIM. 
     You’re standing here at the edge of the stage, the instruments ringing in your ears. You’re red. You’re dancing in circles as you let the energy of the music take hold of your mind. You need to release everything, or you might just fall into the crowd. Your chest is so tight. You need something to get rid of this feeling. You’re so fucking sick of it. You want it gone. 
     The music? The fans? The dance? The members? The performance? Choi San? His hooded eyes meet yours as he leans closer. The cameras are on you, yet he moves closer and closer. You’re in a heated daze, meeting him closer. Your foreheads collide, your breaths dancing as he whispers to you. 
     “Use me.”
     “Get this off right now,” you demand, gripping his shirt as you stumble into your hotel room. You strip off your pants, backing him to the bed just as his shirt gets over his head. His breath hitches as he watches you toss your panties off to the side, gazing at your bare legs. You quickly throw your shirt over your head, and his eyes follow your fingers as they unzip the binder. Within a minute, your entire body is bare to him, and he’s so fucking hard. 
     You admire his chest, biting your lip as you run your fingertips over his beautiful features. It’s not like you aren’t used to it by now. The man lives without his shirt, but seeing it here, just for your eyes, makes you so excited.
     You push him to the bed, climbing on top of him. As soon as his head hits the mattress, two hands are grabbing his hair and shoving his mouth against your leaking cunt. You watch his eyes roll as he licks against your sweet core, his tongue grinding against your clit before he kisses it prettily. You sigh, grinding down against his tongue and pulling him closer by his messy locks. 
     “That’s it, Sannie,” you groan. “Use your lips for something good for once.” 
     His hands grab your thighs to pull you lower, putting your weight on his face until all he can feel or breathe is your pussy. His tongue is messy and quick, diving into your hole as he groans against you. 
     “You like that?” you scoff, biting your lip as he hums. “You liked being choked in the bathroom too, didn’t you? You wanna drown in my pussy?” You feel the bed shift as his hips buck slightly into the air. You know he’s rock hard, but he’s being good and not touching himself like you know he so desperately wants to. “Fuck,” you whimper as he sucks on your throbbing clit. “Only you can make me this wet anyway. You deserve it.”
     The sight is making you dizzy, his brows furrowed, eyes hazy as they gaze at your figure above him. His lips are pressing and pleasuring just the right spots, his tongue fucking your tight hole and drinking your arousal over and over again. You can’t help but let your voice escape in your breaths as you roll your hips along with his movements. 
     If you’d known he could do this, you might’ve told him earlier. No, that’s not true. Because you can’t have Choi San. You’ll fucking take him anyway.
     You push his face away, scowling as his warm breath fans your dripping folds. You move to sit on his lap, and he jolts when you grind your hips down on his erection. His mouth is messy with your arousal, his lips plump from their desperate work. 
     He wants you so fucking bad, but you can’t have him?! 
     You press your lips to his neck, noticing the way he bares the skin for you to taste. Your teeth graze his soft, unmarked skin, and you want to sink into him so fucking bad. You want to mark him and show everyone he belongs to you, even if you’re not allowed to have him. 
     You press your teeth into his throat lightly, and his breath hitches, his hips pressing up against you. His breath against your ear is heavy as his fingers entwine with your hair, pulling you closer to his neck, teeth deeper into his skin. That’s right. He wants to be used. He wants to be owned. 
     You bite his neck, a moan escaping his lips as he trembles beneath you. You lick at the indents, nibbling and sucking all over his neck to leave your trace. Every part of him should be marked. You’re fuming, latching onto his collarbone, his chest, nibbling on his nipple just to watch him get more and more worked up beneath you. 
     “Y/n,” he whimpers. It must have been ten minutes of this. He’s enjoying every little mark, every little sensation, panting and whimpering as you have your way with him.
     “What’s wrong, Sannie?” you ask, sitting between his legs, cheek resting on his inner thigh as he begs you with his gaze for more. “Does it hurt?” You gently poke his erection, straining painfully against his pants. 
     He nods. “You’re so mean,” he whines.
     “Don’t you know that’s what you signed up for?” you chuckle. “Don’t you know how fucking furious I am right now?!” He nods, biting his lip as he watches you eye the twitch in his bulge. “Playing with you is helping me, Sannie. I’m sorry if I’m being mean,” you coo. You tilt your head as an idea meets your mind. “Do you want to show me? How should I make it up to you?”
     “C-can I touch you?” he asks, his expression falling when you shake your head.
     “No, Sannie. How do you want me to touch you?” His eyes go a little wide in embarrassment. “Show me.”
     “I… I don’t know,” he mumbles, looking away as his face flushes a deep pink.
     “Come on, Sannie,” you mumble, stretching the waistband teasingly. “Don’t be shy. Show me how you want me to touch you.”
     His hands tremble as they hesitate with each motion toward his erection. He palms himself over his sweats first, gazing at your features as you watch his hand. He’s so embarrassed, but the eager, aroused expression on your face is spurring him on. He wants to give you everything you want. 
     His hand slides into his pants, and he takes his cock out, groaning at the way you lick your lips. He strokes himself slowly, tightly. He doesn’t want to cum. Not by himself. But the sight of you on top of him has him so fucking sensitive. Each slow stroke has an airy moan leaving his lips. He tries to keep them in because he’s so embarrassed to be feeling this good all on his own, but it’s useless. 
     His thumb swipes across the tip every few strokes, his body jolting each time. Precum is leaking more and more, and the sounds are getting so lewd, so wet. 
     “Do you like it there?” you ask, running the palm of your hand over the head. He moans, grabbing your wrist without even thinking. 
     “Yeah,” he chokes out. “Yeah, it feels g-good there.”
     You sigh, sitting back and watching his thick fingers slide against himself. He’s big and thick, just like the rest of him. It’s veiny too, feeling far too explicit for the cute man Choi San is. Watching this innocent man stroke himself just the way he likes it just makes you so fucking desperate to get your hands back on him. 
     You bite your lip as you move off of him. 
     “Come here, Sannie.” 
     He’s quick to shove his pants off and move to between your legs, his hands finding your waist without a second thought, rubbing your soft skin as he catches his breath. 
     “I’m so frustrated,” you sigh. “But if we feel good together, I might feel better. Hmm?” You reach down and spread your slicked folds for him to see, inviting him inside, but he doesn’t move, his eyes trained on the sight. “Come on, San, fuck me.” 
     He groans, grabbing his cock and lining it up with your hole. Just as he’s about to push inside, you can’t help but crack a knowing smile. 
     “Since the head feels so good for you, only put that in,” you say, and his head shoots up so fast, his brows twisted in confusion.
     “Y/n,” he mumbles. “I wanna feel you, though.”
     “You showed me how you wanted to be touched, Sannie. I’ll make you feel good. With just the tip.”
     He looks devastated, and you almost laugh at how adorable it is. But he pushes inside anyway, jaw-dropping at how warm you are inside. 
     “Fuck,” you groan, your back arching as your mind goes blank for a moment, the pleasure of being stretched on his cock better than anything else. But he keeps going. “Sannie,” you warn, and he stops quickly, looking away guiltily. “Does it feel good?” You press yourself just a bit deeper, and he nods quickly, biting his lip as he glares at the connection between you two. 
     He doesn’t start moving until it becomes unbearable just sitting in your warmth. There’s hardly any way to move, but he grinds the tip in and out of your pussy, frustration and pleasure pulling at his mind. It’s so tight and wet, but he can hardly feel it. He wants to feel it all. He wants to fuck you hard and deep. This isn’t enough at all. 
     But you look like you could cum any second, his tip pressing against your g-spot, stretching you enough to grind just softly against your clit. It feels fucking amazing. And better yet, you know he’s getting pent up with every second he’s left with just an inch of your pussy to enjoy.
     “Y/n,” he huffs, gazing at you desperately, feeling dizzy with how you’re grinding against him, moaning and whimpering softly. “C-can I go deeper please?” he mumbles. 
     You shake your head. “I’m so close. Keep going,” you say breathlessly. 
     He gazes at how you’re dripping, soaking his length and the sheets. He watches you clench around what little your desperate pussy can find. He can’t help but want to feel you convulse around him. He needs something. Anything. So he rubs his fingers over your clit, watching your eyes roll back as you grind faster and harder, going just a bit deeper. Maybe you’d suck him in. He could go deeper without you even realizing it. He could feel your cream on his cock. He rubs faster, hearing the growing squelch of your overflowing slick as the length grinding inside becomes longer and longer. He holds his moans at the overwhelming pleasure slowly being revealed to him. Until you drop your hips, his cock pulling out completely. He glances at you in confusion. 
     “Are you being bad, Sannie?” you ask, panting and fuming at your orgasm being delayed simply because he couldn’t do what he was fucking told. “Were you being greedy? Gonna fuck me even though I said no?”
     He shakes his head quickly. “No!” he insists. “I was just trying to help you cum,” he mumbles. 
     “And you lie to me?” you scoff. “Bad boys don’t get rewards, Sannie. Sit there and be good for once, fuck.” You bring your fingers to your clit, and he stays still between your legs, cock hanging uselessly. You rub hard and fast, biting your lip as you rebuild the tension you’ve lost. 
     “You- You’re gonna cum on your own?” he mumbles, distressed as your soft moans get louder, and your movements get faster. “I- I can help,” he panics, but you push him away with your free hand with a grunt. He falls back onto the bed, eyes frantically switching from your throbbing pussy to your blissed-out expression as you get closer and closer. His chest is so tight. He wants to feel you cum around him so fucking bad, but you’re being so mean. Why the fuck are you messing with him so much?! He feels like a spoiled brat, but he’s so angry, so frustrated. He just wants to make you feel good, pound into your pussy, but you’re making everything so difficult!
     “F-Fuck me,” you moan out as you’re right on the edge. Your eyes meet his in a hazy glare, but he’s frozen. Did he hear you right? Your jaw is clenched as you hold in your orgasm for him. “Fuck. Me.”
     His cock slams into you, and you rub your clit fast and hard, your walls clenching around him as he thrusts quick and deep into you. Your eyes roll back as you let out your pent-up moans, your climax taking over your entire being, your limbs trembling as you cream around his cock. 
     His head falls to your shoulder as he whimpers with each hard, desperate thrust. His hips slam against yours, the slick between you making a mess on your skin. It’s loud and sloppy, no one caring much for decency anymore as you chase the pleasure you’d been building up for. His hands are on your hips, pulling you to meet each thrust impatiently. And his cock is so fucking thick, running along your walls and hitting every desperate spot within you.
     “San! Ngh~! San!” you moan, your voice being knocked out of you with each thrust. He’s panting against your skin as he bites and kisses your shoulder and neck. “K-kiss me,” you breathe, hardly able to get out a word that isn’t his name as his relentless pace drowns your thoughts. 
     His lips smash against yours, his hips rolling as he focuses on your tongue against his, the taste of you clouding his frustration for a long moment. 
     “Y/n,” he groans as your fingers run through his hair. “S-So pretty,” he mumbles, kissing you again and again. “So tight, just for me.” His hips pick up their pace again, and your lips can’t keep up with his, pleasure with each slam hitting your entire body. 
     He rests his forehead against yours, gazing into your teary eyes as your puffy lips fall apart into unsuppressable moans. He wraps his arms under your thighs and raises them higher, pressing deeper into you with each thrust. 
     “S-San,” you whimper, watching his hungry eyes move from your pussy to the tears dripping down your cheeks. “C-can you say my name?” 
     He pecks your lips, panting as he chokes out, “Y/n.” You nod, your pussy fluttering around him as his low voice meets your ears. 
     “San, fuck~” you shout as his fingers find your clit and rub fast. “Again, baby, please say it again.” Tears are streaming down your face as your clit and your hole are pleasured thoroughly, mind going blank as he growls your name again and again. 
     “San,” you pant. “S-San~ Ah.. ngh I’m so close,” you cry, grabbing onto his shoulders as the pleasure moves faster and harder through your body. Your eyes are rolled back, your head dipped into the pillow as you thrust your pussy against his sloppy movements, his voice getting higher and more desperate with yours. 
     “Y/n, Y/n, fuck, you’re so tight,” he growls, slamming your hips against his cock as he buries himself deeper and deeper, losing his rhythm. “Cum with me, baby- ngh~” he moans, and you pull him as close as possible, your arms wrapped around his head as your body convulses with immense pleasure, his thrusts riding your high and fingers keeping it going for so fucking long, your lips trembling and voice breaking as you let go. He buries himself deep, his cock twitching as he meets you there, his voice high and unsuppressed right beside your ear. You’re filled with his warmth, spasming as you feel him fill you. You’re so full, so warm, so satisfied, panting as you hold him close. 
     Your legs slowly slide to the bed as he lets himself lean his weight on you, just slightly. You don’t mind. It’s warm and comforting, being so close, being so vulnerable. His head slowly rises, and you let him, your arms falling to the bed. His eyes are still hazy, meeting yours with soft trembles. He gives you a soft, lazy kiss before slowly pulling out and collapsing beside you. 
     You don’t say a word as you curl into his chest, letting him hold you there, breath against breath, no worries nor thoughts, just comfort. 
     “A sex cult?” His jaw drops, and you nod, cracking up. “How do you even…” He sighs. “He’s so odd.” 
     “But we used to do this all the time as kids. You know, I trained with Yeosang and Wooyoung at BigHit.” 
     San raises a brow. “Sangie didn’t recognize you?”
     “Well, it’s been a while, and… you know,” you giggle. “He never really knows what’s going on.”
     He laughs, nodding as he holds you close to his chest. “You’d think he’d remember such a feisty personality.”
     You pucker your lips. “I’d say it’s more passionate than feisty,” you mumble. “I can’t help but get angry… I’m sorry for being so rude.”
     He pauses for a second, then pushes you away so he can really look at your face. “No, I don’t accept your apology. Why did you tease me so much?” 
     You blush, looking away shyly. “I didn’t really…”
     “I was dying, Y/n,” he says, completely serious. “You enjoyed my struggle.”
     “Well,” you huff. “I was so angry at everything. I just needed you to fuck it out of me, you know?” He raises his brows. “You wouldn’t have if I asked. You’d be too careful about it,” you argue. “So I just worked you up to it. I’m sorry, Sannie.” 
     He grins, shaking his head in disbelief before pulling your head back to his chest. “You’re unbelievable.”
     “Wooyoung, when will you be here?” you whine into the phone, lying lazily on your couch. 
     Wooyoung promised to bring Yeosang and San to your hometown during their next break. It’s been a month since you returned home. Your hair has grown to your shoulders, and you’re so excited to see them again. Wooyoung was hesitant when you mentioned bringing San. He thought you might try to kill him since you didn’t succeed in your time as Wooyoung. 
     But you just want to see him again. 
     You’ve been texting and calling every day since you left, but a long-distance relationship is so frustrating. And you’re hiding it from Wooyoung nonetheless. Maybe one day you’ll tell him, but you don’t want him to freak out about it. 
     When the front door opens, you shoot to your feet. Wooyoung strides inside and gives you a big hug, but you don’t even bother with him, moving past him to greet the important guests. Yeosang is smiling brightly, handing you a little gift, and San… San is as dangerously perfect as you remember. 
     You bow politely. As your head lowers, you let a blush spread across your cheeks. Is it wrong… in front of everyone… that you want to take him away and feel him again? You’ve been talking for a month, but you haven’t been able to have a deep connection. The temptation to take him away right now is so strong. 
     “Nice to meet you, Y/n,” he says.
     “Yeah,” you mumble. “I’ll… show you around.” You turn to Wooyoung and Yeosang quickly. “‘Cause you guys have been here.”
     You start walking before anyone can even say anything. San follows, and, as soon as you enter your bathroom, you pin him against the wall and melt against him as his arms wrap around your waist. Your lips meet hard and fast. 
     “I missed you so much,” you whisper, hardly any sound at all as your lips are too busy memorizing the feel of his. You cup his face in your hands as you pull him closer to your movement. “San…” you sigh.
     You both freeze when a figure walks into view and stops beside you. You both glance over, eyes wide in shock as Yeosang’s horrified expression meets you. 
     “You- We- S-” He’s looking from you to him, covering his mouth, speechless. 
     “What’s wrong?” Wooyoung calls out. “Are they fighting?!” Wooyoung runs down the hall, but you push away from San immediately, standing beside the sink with a composed expression masking your panic. 
     Yeosang is still looking from you to San, unsure of what to do, but a single twitch of your head tells him not to say a word. 
     “Young-ah, that’s not nice,” San jokes. “Why would we be fighting?” 
     He eyes you skeptically. 
     “Did she threaten you?”
     “Ya,” you grumble. “I was just showing him the rooms. I wouldn’t pick a fight with someone I just met.”
     “Uh huh,” he mumbles before turning to go back to the living room. 
     “Since when are you guys…” Yeosang mumbles. “I mean, you’ve never met.”
     “We’ll tell you everything,” you sigh. “But later. We don’t want Wooyoung to know. He’d go crazy.”
     Yeosang looks conflicted. You know he can’t lie. You know he can’t keep a secret. Especially from Wooyoung, who presters him until he tells him everything he knows. But you’re really counting on him. Wooyoung definitely can not know. 
     “I’ll buy you chicken,” you offer, and he’s immediately made up his mind. 
     You return to your brother, the other two going to the kitchen to prepare the food they brought for lunch. Wooyoung looks lost in thought when you sit next to him on the couch. 
     “What’s wrong, Youngie?” you ask, looking toward the kitchen cautiously.
     He sighs. “Actually, Y/n, I didn’t just come here to visit.” He bites his lip. “I sort of got into some trouble… again…”
     You look at him in disbelief. “Again? What happened this time?” 
     “Well… that lady from Paris… the one that got me into this mess. I didn’t want to tell the company. Like, we won the case. I’m not in that cult anymore.” He lowers his voice. “But I really wanted to settle it quickly, so I went to visit her personally.” Your jaw drops just a bit. “And she gave me a contract that would settle everything. I didn’t…” 
     “Fuck, Wooyoung,” you laugh in disbelief. 
     “She tricked me!” he argues. “She’s a master manipulator!”
     “So what now? Did you sell your soul to the devil? Did you… I don’t know… become her slave or something?”
     “Marriage.”
     “No fucking way,” you scoff. “What didn’t you read to sign a fucking marriage contract? Are you actually slow?”
     “I know, I fucked up,” he whispers. “But please help me out one more time. I… I’ll figure it out.” 
     “Does-”
     “Young-ah, I thought we got two orders of the spicy chicken,” San mumbles as he walks into the living room. Your conversation stops with a long sigh from your lips. 
     “I’ll do it,” you tell your brother, reaching for the chicken box in San’s hands. “It’s fine. We can share.” 
     It’s not like you don’t have your own reasons anyway. 
taglist ~
@channiesbum @magisshawp @altijdanouk @m4n4-s4m4 @naiyaaa-post @blue-jayujelly @staytinyy1221 @liveloveseonghwa @lets-candice @ipadkidsworld @atzz8 @shylia @screamingforgrace @skteezcursed @hyunminism @a-tiny-thing @stillaloserinaction @rienneloves @se-onghwa @wooahaeruby @korriganig @ateez-atiny380 @lesyeuxdeanna @justanotherblkgirl @pearltinyy @jeongyunme @cassagathariver @deermars @rosalidelacroix1986 @mintyymatcha @leeknow-minho2 @seungminscheekies @futuresoffantasies @beabatiny @hiddeninsightsstuff @bitejoongie @steviesbergthuis @mangomuncher1 @shikigamihwa @jiamoon3525 @choizlover @emilysecresy @il0vet0es @innocygnet @bignoselover1 @mermaidfett @babygir1446 @strawberryax0lotl @larimaldo765 @viiiii1111
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zkg2318 ¡ 8 months ago
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No Wings No Horns
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(important warnings) genre/tags ✶ Heeseung x afab!reader x Jake, plot heavy, angst, smut, some fluff, love triangle trope, thriller/dark, fantasy, themes of murder, themes of violence, themes of reincarnation, angel/devil themed, yandere character, major character death, mentions of suicide, cursing, mentions of hell/heaven, use of y/n, morally gray characters, very brief mention of foster homes, alcohol, very brief descriptions of physical abuse, blood, sleep deprivation, mention of pills, nightmares, etc... like super morally gray characters
smut warnings ✶ ass slapping, unprotected sex, creampie, nicknames (slut, angel, baby), light dubcon (heeseung), fingering, etc…
synopsis ✶ Growing up with your best friend, Jake, you thought you knew him inside and out- until you meet Heeseung on your first day of college. With his dark allure and unyielding devotion towards you, he leaves you questioning who Jake really is. Unbeknownst to you, Jake and Heeseung, who were once best friends in a realm beyond mortal understanding, share a secret so powerful it could shatter everything you thought you knew about them. But after a single, fateful mistake cost them their life full of radiance and purity, they’re now bound to earth under a haunted curse with a fate that can only be ended by one, unforgivable act.
WC ✶ 20.4
Taglist: @wilonevys, @katarinamae, @punchbug9-blog, @riribelle
A/N if you read the teaser, plz reread the beginning as i made significant changes for the plot :)
The realm of Heaven was unlike any other, a breathtaking expanse of greenery where radiant light cascaded over the land, creating a soft golden glow. Rolling hills were stretched as far as the eye could see, adorned with a spread of flowers that bloomed even in the winter. Along the dips in the hills were clear-blue streams that weaved through the landscape like a maze, the trickle of their stream like a peaceful soundtrack to the quiet tranquility of Heaven, or what the Guardian Angels liked to call: Celesta.
Spread throughout the city of Celesta was a variety of skyscrapers that rose into the sky, constructed out of material that seemed to glisten in the sunlight. Each building was intricately carved with a glowing inscription, burning with the prophecy of a fallen angel. Amongst them were structures like the Counsel of Angels, the Angel Hub, and the Headquarters.
In the Counsel of Angels building, decisions regarding Guardian Angels and mortals were made. Inside this building were sky high archways and ethereal sculptures climbing the walls, serving as a sanctuary for Angels to assign missions to Guardian angels. Here, angels gathered to deliberate matters of great importance, the air never failing to fill with harmonious discussion about families in need when meetings occurred. Each voice in the Counsel of Angels building resonated with an authority that boomed, as within these walls laid the power to change the lives of mere mortals, altering the course of fate.
The Angel Hub was comparably a much more relaxed place to be in than the Counsel of Angels. It was a space in which all angels gathered in order to unwind and relax after days or even months following a mission, a plethora of laughter and voices filling the air. Inside the building were large, open areas for social interactions and plush seating arrangements in every corner. In addition to the open spaces and comfortable seating options, was a large range of amenities that offered respite from their guardian duties like a spa and gym, but nothing compared to the bright camaraderie every angel shared amongst one another.
However, the familiar warmth of the Angel Hub stood in stark contrast to the oppressiveness of the Headquarters. The HQ was a strong fortress of judgment- where upon entering- the air turned cold. The entrance was flanked with iron doors and the ceiling ran high, adorned with a mural of The Last Judgment, a cold reminder of the fate awaiting those who dared to break the laws of the Guardian Codes.
Inside the Headquarters laid long, polished oak tables that filled the expansive hall. Here, the Counsel of Angels and members of the HQ gathered on the rare occasion a hearing took place. More often than not, a thin layer of dust would lay undisturbed on these tables, for such meetings were infrequent and unspoken of. However, when a meeting like this did occur, it often meant a Guardian would face punishments as severe as being reincarnated into a mortal angel with a cursed fate- or even worse, a condemnation to Hell.
Now, sitting on the quartz steps leading up to the imposing structure of the HQ building was a boy with platinum-blond hair dressed in a crisp white suit. Despite the solemn stoop in his shoulders, the sun’s radiant glow bathed him in a way that made him appear ethereal, despite the gloom beating around him. Blocking the sunlight with his outstretched wings, another boy descends besides him, casting a shadow over the boy. “It’s time to go inside, Jake.” He says with a grim expression.
Jake reluctantly stands up and joins his best friend of mere decades, Heeseung, each step towards the large iron doors drawing them closer to a fate neither of them could avoid any longer. With a deep breath, Jake pushes the heavy doors open, revealing a long hall filled with towering statues of legendary Guardian Angels- a now haunting site of fallen protectors. “It’s been years since I was last here,” Jake murmurs, a shudder rippling through his frame.
“Was that when the last hearing was?” Heeseung asks in a low voice.
“I’m not sure,” Jake’s gaze remains fixed on the path ahead, “Do you think they’ll let us off easy?”
Heeseung’s steps falter slightly as he listens to Jake’s words, the reason for their summons resurfacing in his mind. The Counsel had summoned the both of them to protect a girl named Alice, a high school senior with dreams of pursuing piano.
Alice was soft-spoken, so innocent and kind in a way that her presence was almost ethereal. She had this vibrance to her that made anyone who interacted with her longing for more. And the way she spoke of her music in such a reverence made it feel almost sacred- like her soul was spilling out bit by bit as each key was played. Her music was her sanctuary, just as her parents were. If it wasn’t her piano, it was her parents. Those two things were her most treasured possessions, up until Jake and Heeseung entered the picture.
Alice quickly captivated Heeseung and Jake in ways they hadn’t anticipated. They hadn’t planned on growing closer to her like that, much less fall for her. That much was forbidden, a Guardian Angel and a mortal to be together. Yet somewhere along the way, the lines between protector and lover blurred to a point even Heaven’s orders couldn’t sever. Though, if Heeseung could throw in any fruit for thought, he would say that it was Jake who was overly enamored with her; and it didn’t help that Alice was as equally infatuated with Jake.
Originally, Alice’s big concert- a chance for her to perform before college scouts- had been canceled due to a severe weather warning. But Jake, defying the angels above, took a reckless risk by manipulating fate to ensure that the show went on. He understood how much this concert meant to Alice; and he wanted nothing more than to see her on stage in that beautiful blue gown she saved up to buy, happily sharing her years of hard work- even if that meant bending a few rules.
That same night, a category 3 storm hit the streets. And while Alice waited in the safety of her venue, her parents got caught up in the eye of the storm on their way to watch her perform. Lightning struck just a car distance in front of their own, interfering with their steering and ultimately leading to their demise.The car had spun out, crashing into a railing and flipping with such force that everyone died on impact. To say Alice was devastated beyond repair when she learned of her parents’ deaths was an understatement. Standing there in the middle of her venue, sobbing in her expensive midnight blue dress as the weight of the news tore through her frame. For weeks, she never spoke, barely ate. She saw it as a devastating sign that her pursuit for happiness had ultimately led to her parents passing. And with the loss of the two things she cared about the most, she took her own life.
As the two boys near another set of doors, Heeseung breaks out of his cycle of thoughts, turning to Jake. “Honestly? I don’t know. What you did was incredibly stupid and reckless.” He sighs, shaking his head.
His friend’s worried expression turns sour, resentment flickering across his face. “If it was so stupid, you would’ve done more to stop me. But you loved her too, you wanted that concert to happen as much as I did.” His words come out bitterly, spitting blame on Heeseung that even he couldn’t deny.
Heeseung loved Alice; there was no denying it. But his love was different- it was more of a calm, steady flame in comparison to the wildfire that consumed Jake. His was all-encompassing, like some unbreakable spell Alice had casted on him. Heeseung feels his hand tighten at his side, but he swallows back the bitterness in his throat, not wanting to shake the brewing fragility of their friendship. He was already beginning to resent Jake for what happened.
The heavy doors creek open, revealing a vast hall filled with members of the Counsel, each occupying a seat at the long oak tables which were laid out in a rectangular shape. Their wings were concealed and their expressions were a mix of disappointment and grief. Heeseung felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he felt the weight of the angel's stares bore through him and Jake. At the center of the assembly hovered 5 angels of the HQ, each member adorned in a long, white cloak which glimmered in the sunlight that was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Guardians Lee Heeseung and Sim Jaeyun,” a deep voice calls, reverberating across the hall. It belonged to an elder angel who hovered at the edge of the group. He descends gracefully to the floor, coming to stand behind the tables while staying within the boundary of the rectangular setup. “Today, you stand before us to discuss the events surrounding your mission with Alice.”
A second angel floats down to join the elder, she was much younger than him with sleek black hair just brushing against the small of her back and sharp cat like eyes. “Let us recount the facts,” she announces, “As two of Celesta’s most highly regarded Guardian Angels, you were entrusted with protecting a high school senior named Alice. Having served us for decades, you were expected to complete this mission seamlessly with no predicaments, but the both of you were blinded by love and selfishness, deviating you from your mission.” She clears her throat, “-and in your failure, led to unimaginable sorrow- the death of an entire family.”
Heeseung’s head lowers under the weight of his guilt that was finally becoming physically burdening. “Look at us when we speak to you.” commands a voice from the center of the hall. It was Michael, God’s second-in-command, a figure whose authority was as powerful as his presence. His voice echoes through the room and Heeseung looks up immediately, raking his eyes over the figure that spoke so purposefully. “Your careless actions resulted in a tragedy- a death count of three innocent souls. I’m assuming as well seasoned Guardian Angels, you’re aware of the punishment associated with mortal deaths.”
Michael had long stood as the most revered angel in all of Heaven. For centuries, his wisdom and strength commanded respect across both Heaven and Earth, his name carrying prestige to both angels and mortals alike. To have him, the highest of all angels, rebuke down on them was like driving a blade of guilt deep into their hearts. The sharpness of their own guilt pierced deeper than any blade could, settling through their veins like ice. No angel ever wished to face his wrath, and yet here they were, awaiting his final judgment.
“Lee Heeseung and Sim Jaeyun, given the severity of your actions, an appeal or intervention will not be entertained. The punishment will be absolute.”
Jake and Heeseung’s blood ran cold, a tremor of dread crawling up their spines. Jake shuffles ever so slightly over to his best friend, discreetly linking his pinky in Heeseung’s, desperate for some sort of temporary comfort as he faces his fate. Their faces burn with guilt as Michael’s words echo with finality, tightening the tension in the air. Heeseung felt his knees weaken, every fiber in his being fighting to keep him upright.
“You may say your last words before your punishment is carried out.”
Heeseung takes a step forward, his heart lurching as he reluctantly releases himself from Jake’s hand. “It is with profound regret that an innocent life like Alice’s was so greatly affected by our selfish, one-sided actions. Due to our careless behavior and lack of critical thinking and compassion we failed to protect Alice and those around her, resulting in the death of her loved ones, and ultimately herself. And for that, we will spend the rest of our lives repenting for our mistakes.”
There was no plea in the speech he delivered, Heeseung understood Michael’s words clearly. Forgiveness wasn’t in their future to seek, the tragedy so great it was something beyond reconciliation. Their fate was sealed as soon as Alice’s death was final. As a Guardian Angel, it was their sacred duty to guide and protect those assigned to them; and to fail in that was to bring peril to the universe, tipping the world off its axle.
Heeseung turns to Jake, a silent look asking if he wishes to say anything. Jake’s gaze remains fixated on his white dress shoes. He shook his head, swallowing hard. Heeseung turns back to Heeseung, his gaze heavy with sorrow, “I speak for the both of us when I say there is nothing else for us to add. We are ready to accept our punishment.”
In the city of Celesta, tragedy could only be answered with sacrifice.
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“Stop fucking touching me,” you complain, pushing away your best friend for what felt like the umpteenth smile.
“I can’t help it!” Jake whines, tagging along beside you with that familiar pout you knew so well, his metaphorical puppy ears switching into airplane mode as though you’d scolded him. “It's the first day of class, Y/n! How am I not supposed to be nervous?”
You roll your eyes, though you can’t help but laugh a little, breaking your facade. “This isn’t even our biggest lecture, that one’s at 2 p.m., remember?” You say, pushing open the classroom door as you begin to glance around for an empty seat. Your eyes eventually zero in on two seats in the middle, and with a well-practiced tug on his hoodie sleeve, you drag him to what you hoped would be your unassigned assigned seats for the rest of the semester. “Jake, do you think this class is going to be boring?”
Jake drops into his seat with an exaggerated huff, setting his head on the desk. “I heard the first day of college is reserved for talking about the syllabus.” he mutters, his hoodie covering his eyes. “I miss middle school when we got babied for being the only sixth graders in our classes.”
Rolling your eyes, you let your mind fall back to when you first met Jake in middle school, tucked away in the back corner of an advanced math class where the two of you were considered outliers. As the only sixth graders navigating honors pre-algebra, you were dwarfed- surrounded by ninth graders that towered over you like giants, casting you annoyed glances every chance they got. It was clear from the start that you and Jake would become quite close considering the disapproval the older students gave you two.
In seventh grade, you noticed his presence in your other advanced classes too- biology and english- each time being the only other seventh grader in the sea of high schoolers. He was your partner for every project- not by choice- but because no other student wanted to pair up with the young, pre-pubescent students whose voices cracked with every other word.
Gradually, the constant presence of Jake being near you became something you looked forward to. Whether you were double-checking some crazy long math formula or relearning the Krebs cycle for the umpteenth time, Jake was always besides you. Your partnership, born out of pure convenience and necessity, became an anchor for you in those chaotic years. By the time 8th grade came around, he was more than just a familiar face, but your best friend.
Breaking you from your thoughts, your classroom begins to fill and an older man enters the room, briefcase swinging by his side. “Alright, welcome to Econ 101. We’ll start with attendance right away.” Beside you, Jake grumbles softly into his sweater, tucking his hands under his chin.
For the next few minutes, your professor goes through a list of names you’ve never heard of, his voice a monotonous drone that drags through the air. “Lee Heeseung?” he calls. You feel Jake tense beside you, his half-closed eyes snapping open completely. From the back of the room, a low voice murmurs, “Here.”
Curiously, you crane your neck to glance over your shoulder, catching sight of him- a boy with dark red hair, an unwavering gaze fixed ahead of him, completely disinterested in anyone else. His eyes seem to bore through the heads of those sitting in front of him, as if they’re merely ghosts. Feeling an unwavering chill run through your veins, you turn back in your seat.
When your own name is called, you manage a steady “Here”, shaking off the unease of Heeseung’s blank stare.
Finally, the professor reaches Jake’s name, “Sim Jaeyun?” he calls. Jake mutters a lackluster, “Here” that’s just loud enough for the professor to hear and you nudge him in the side.
“Why didn’t you tell him to call you Jake?”
He gives you a half-hearted yawn, “Just tired,” he attempts, his voice fraying at the edges. You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue before turning your attention back to the front of the class. The professor continues to drone on, like Jake had predicted earlier, spending most of today’s class time dissecting the syllabus at an almost microscopic detail. It’s a dense discussion, and you find your attention wavering in and out until the words, ‘group project’ catch your ear.
Upon hearing the collective sighs from the small class, the professor offers a smile, undeterred by the class’s reaction. “I know, I know. Group projects aren’t everyone’s favorite, but teamwork is essential in the real world. I’ve assigned you all into groups of three.”
Jake lets out another tired sigh, his tense body unrelenting as he turns to you, “I hope we’re paired up.” He whispers, leaning his heavy head into your shoulders before slumping into his seat.
Names start to echo through the room as the professor starts calling them out in groups of three, “Sim Jaeyun, Y/n L/n,” he pauses before adding the last name, “And Lee Heeseung.”
Your eyes widen in surprise and you swing around to face Jake with a wide grin, “You manifested well, my Jake.” You tell him, nudging him in the side. He offers you a faint smile, hoping you wouldn’t notice the way his heart raced at the mere thought of his near future. Not noticing the way your best friend has slipped into his own little shell of overthinking, you find your gaze flickering to the back of the classroom. You steal a glance at Heeseung and notice that he hasn’t budged, still as disinterested as ever- though this time, there’s a new sharpness to his gaze.
The professor continues on, tone light hearted as he wraps up the class, “I’d highly suggest meeting with your group after today's class to start working on the project immediately. College will surely keep you busy, and I would hate to see you guys turn this in late.”
The moment he concludes, you gather your things and turn towards Jake, “Could you talk to Heeseung and get his contact info? I’ve got to rush to my next class.”
He nods, albeit absentmindedly as he watches you disappear without waiting for a response. But before Jake could begin processing his next move, he feels a tug on the back of his hoodie, Heeseung’s hand roughly grabbing at the fabric. “Whoa- what the heck?” Jake says, stumbling to grab his backpack as Heeseung drags him into an empty hall.
The silence in the hall is deafening, away from the bustle of students. “Jake.” Heeseung deadpans, the word devoid of any emotion. With knitted eyebrows, Heeseung moves forward until he’s just inches away from Jake’s face.
The smaller boy freezes, a shiver running through his veins as he slowly looks up to meet the dark gaze of the boy standing before him. “Heeseung.” He says, the name falling from his lips like a blow of dust. “You didn’t have to pull me like that, we’re in the same group. No need to be… dramatic.”
Heeseung doesn’t relent. Instead, he steps forward and keeps his gaze fixed on his ex best friend. “Dramatic?” His voice drops dangerously low. “You think I waited all this time for a fucking group project, just to be called ‘dramatic’?”
Jake’s breath hitches, a chill creeping over him as he registers the menace in Heeseung’s voice- a stark contrast to the Heeseung he had known all those years ago. The Heeseung from before was soft-spoken, carrying himself with a quiet confidence that radiated warmth and gentleness, not this harsh authority he was seeing now. With his unforgiving glare and sharpness in his voice, Jake could barely recognize him; if not for his name and familiar bambi shaped eyes, Heeseung would have seemed like a complete stranger.
Jake swallows, his throat dry as the memory of their punishment relinquishes his mind due to the sudden reunion with his old best friend. Losing his wings was like losing his identity, and it took years for him to step out of that darkness once he regained his memories at the age of 11. And he couldn’t even imagine what it must have felt like for Heeseung- to not only lose his wings but to also be severed from his angelic nature completely. The fall from grace hadn’t been easy for either of them: the hollow ache in Jake’s shoulders acting as a constant reminder of what he used to have, and the tether that had once kept Heeseung close to the light being stripped entirely from him. Jake may have fallen, but Heeseung had fallen so much further for reasons Jake didn’t know.
“What’s got you waiting any longer? Can’t kill me?” Jake asks, his eyes hardening.
“Killing you isn’t on my agenda, at least not right now. There’s still so much to be done, let’s catch up soon, okay?”
Jake’s head swirls with emotions as Heeseung takes a step back, an evil smirk plastered on his face. The chill in the hallway seems to thicken as Heeseung turns around, lengthening the distance between them. His head becomes heavy as the weight of their shared past presses heavily on him, lingering questions of what’s in store hovering in the air like a dark cloud.
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“So did you get his number?” You ask, plopping down next to Jake who was sprawled out on your dorm room floor.
With a shake of the head, he tells you that Heeseung had left immediately before he could grab any contact information. “Tch, we’ll have to get it next class then.” You reply, laying down to look up at the glow-in-the-dark stars you had put up on your ceiling when you first moved in. Jake had suggested the Orion. “Was it just me, or did he give off weird vibes?” You ask, unable to keep your observations about him a secret.
Shifting besides you, Jake turns to face you, “Yeah, the guy gives me the creeps. It’s like he’s waiting for something to happen…”
He swallows hard, his mind a race of thoughts as he juggles the various paths Heeseung might take in order to achieve immortality again. Would Heeseung really follow through with what Michael said in order to redeem their punishment now that they had located each other, or would he just continue to lay low?
So many years had passed, Jake could almost say he had forgotten about the deal they had made with the Counsel of Angels and the HQ. He almost didn’t want to go back, life was amazing, but he knew the cursed fate of his punishment was bound to come. And now that the long awaited encounter with Heeseung had finally happened, it was time for Jake to put his guard up.
Just then, your phone buzzes, catching Jake in the middle of his inner battle. You glance down to see a text from Chaeryoung, a girl you had met earlier that day in your English 116 class, inviting you to a party. “Hey, there’s a party going on at the Alpha Delta frat house, you wanna swing by?”
Jake raises an eyebrow at you, not giving any sign of standing up any time soon. “A party? When did you start going to those?”
“Since never, but we’re in college now.” You reply, a playful gleam sparkling in your eyes as you hold a hand out for him to grab. “We have to start leaving the house for things that aren’t math competitions and family dinners.”
Jake hesitates for a minute, glancing at your outstretched hand before ultimately letting out a resigned sigh and grabbing it.
You were right; the two of you had fallen into a comfortable routine, cocooned within the walls of your childhood homes, spending your nights hunched over textbooks and cramming for high school finals. Family events were also a staple in your lives, with the two of your families growing closer over the years as you two spent more and more time together, every holiday became a joint gathering.
“Fine, but I’m only coming to make sure you don’t get plastered.” He says with reluctance in his voice.
Smiling happily at your best friend, you lock yourself away in the bathroom, the soft click of the door providing you a moment of privacy. As you change into a plaid black skirt and simple sweater, you give yourself a once over in the mirror, adjusting your hair and shaking off any lingering feelings of hesitancy before unlocking the door.
His gaze sweeps over you, his eyes lingering just a fraction longer on your exposed legs than they should. You can’t help but notice a rush of warmth that rises to your cheeks when his eyes meet yours, “What, should I go and change?” you ask, embarrassment laced in your voice.
His response is quick as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “No, no. You look fine, let’s go.” With that, he steps out of your dorm room.
The frat house isn’t far- just a five minute walk from your place, but the journey stretches into the double digits as you and Jake navigate the unfamiliar plot of land in the darkness, illuminated only by the occasional glow of streetlamps and laughter of fellow college students.
As you approach a large building that is surrounded by students holding drinks and swaying to booming music, you hear a feminine voice call your name. “Girl, you’re finally here! I didn’t know if you’d make it.” Looking over to your left, you see a girl with long black hair jogging over to you and Jake with two red solo cups in hand. “Here, it’s a special drink I mixed just for you,” she says, shoving the concoction into your free hand.
With a cautious sip, you let the tangy liquid reach your tastebuds and you click your tongue, giving it a moment to settle. “It’s quite nice!” You say, raising your cup for another sip. Jake’s cautious hand lands on your arm before you can savor another sip, and you look at him with curiosity.
“Are you sure? What about your pills?” He asks in a low voice.
“They’re just antidepressants, not opioids.” You tell him, pulling away from him to take a second sip. You loved Jake enough to never tell him this, but you were hoping that tonight would give you a chance to explore the world without Jake hovering around you. He was always so protective.
She smiles, linking her arm through yours and nodding her head for Jake to follow.
She leads the two of you into the frat house, quickly introducing you to four other girls: Yeji, Lia, Yuna, and Ryujin. “Jake, go make some friends. I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything else than stand around surrounded by girls.” You say, shooing him off. He shoots you a look but saunters off to the kitchen to talk to some boys, quickly captivating them with his signature puppy charm.
With the help of Chaeryoung’s drink, you make quick work with the girls you just met, finding yourself settling down with them comfortably as the night unfolds. Ryujin and Lia leave for just a moment to refill your drinks, coming back a second later with a different mixture, this one more bitter and leaving a sour burn in your throat. “Let’s go dance.” Yeji says, grabbing your wrist.
You follow her into the living room where a group of drunken bodies are pushing against each other, intoxicatingly out of rhythm with the music. Yeji pulls you into the crowd, encouraging you to dance alongside the sweaty bodies and sway to the bass of the music.
As you let the alcohol guide your movements, you fail to notice the eyes on your back. Disheartened by your lack of awareness, a boy walks up to you and pulls you away from the crowd by your waist. Due to your senses being dimmed from the alcohol, you can only manage a meek swat to the arm. “Hey, I couldn’t help but notice how pretty you looked dancing over there.” He murmurs, too close to your ear.
You look into his eyes, noticing a darkness in his gaze, clearly unaware of your discomfort. Glancing around, you suddenly become hyper-aware of the way the crowd around you two seems to press on without a second glance. In an effort to put some distance between you and the stranger, you try to step back, but your effort is proven futile when he pulls you closer. “What, trying to leave, kitten?”
His breath is fanning in front of your face now, and you can smell the strong scent of beer intoxicating your senses. With sweat beading at the root of your forehead, you glance around one more time and spot Jake out of the corner of your eye making a beeline toward you.
“Back off,” he says instantly, pushing his body between you and the stranger.
“Who the hell is this? Your fucking Guardian Angel?”
The stranger steps into Jake’s space, testing the waters to see just how far your best friend will go. Jake, who had always been strong willed and protective, doesn’t budge. The tension around you three thickens, drawing in the gaze of a few partygoers, but no one moves. “She isn’t interested,” He says, “So back off.”
The man lets out a scoff, broadening his chest out as if to size Jake up, “What makes you think she isn’t interested?”
You notice the way Jake’s hand clenches by his side, his knuckles flurrying white, and for a moment, you’re worried he may take it too far. Jake was never one for aggression, he was always the voice of reason, someone who would rather defuse a situation with words rather than with fists. But now, Jake stands in front of the guy who dared to make you uncomfortable, locking eyes, “Don’t make me repeat myself.” He says, his voice low and sharp.
It’s the first time in your life you’ve ever heard him speak with an edge to his voice, and it’s almost enough to make you weak. After a long, tense silence, the guy finally smirks and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alight, angel.” He says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “you can have her.”
As his figure melts back into the crowd, Jake’s shoulders sag, letting out a deep breath as the tension from before visibility settles. “You okay?” he asks, his tone softening as he scans your face.
You nod, a similar relief matching his as you pull him into a hug. “You know you didn’t have to do that. I’m sure I would’ve found my way out eventually.” You say, giggling as the alcohol buzzes through your veins.
He shrugs, holding you in his arms for just a second longer. “Yeah… Guess it’s just my job.”
“You really are my Guardian Angel, aren’t you?” You tease, laughing before skipping off to find Yeji, whom you had lost earlier.
Jake watches as you disappear into the crowd once more, your words echoing in his mind: Guardian Angel, if only you knew. Your mere mention of a Guardian Angel felt like a cold slap to the face, reminding him of everything you didn't know, everything he couldn’t tell you.
The irony of it all nearly makes him laugh, but instead, a hint of sadness glistens in his eyes when he loses sight of you again. You weren’t assigned to him like Alice, but he took it upon himself to act as your Guardian Angel as soon as he met you in that advanced math class. He felt like it was a sign, to protect you from the harsh judgment of the older students. Acting as your “Guardian Angel” wasn’t just a joke to him- it was something he vowed upon when he ascended into the heavens. But it was something you would never know the full extent of.
Maybe he wasn’t the angel that he once was- powers stripped and all- but there was still that tether holding him to the light that kept Jake up like a guiding force, subtle but steady. He knew there was still a chance, still a possibility to come back.
With a shake of the head, Jake glances around before making his way back to the kitchen. As he weaves through the crowd, he spots Heeseung casually leaning against a wall, watching everything that had just unfolded. Their eyes lock, and Jake feels a flicker of unease twist in his stomach, wincing before turning away. “Toss me a beer,” he mutters to the group near him, shaking off the gaze of Heeseung’s eyes on his back.
Jungwon, one of the boys he had met earlier, slides a Guinness across the kitchen island. “You good, man? You look like you just saw the devil.” He jokes, his cat eyes seen creasing over his solo cup.
Jake almost laughs; he practically had. “Nah, just had a run in with some dude hitting on my best friend.” He says, hoping the swig from his beer would calm the unease stirring inside of him.
Jay, another guy from the group, raises his eyebrow. “You like her?”
Jake shakes his head, forcing out a laugh as he ignores the heaviness in his stomach, “No, just… protective. That’s all.”
Jay and Jungwon glance at one another, giving eachother a knowing look. Though they had only met Jake a few hours ago, Jake was easy to decipher. It was clear to them that Jake looked at you in a way that was more than just ‘friendly’.
Hours blur by as Jake hangs out in the kitchen with a group of boys and you dance amongst the crowd on your fourth cup of whatever Chaeryoung had managed to mix for you, each one stronger than the last. It felt unbelievably freeing, a complete 180 from the years of careful restriction your parents had kept you under for so long. You’d never had the chance to drink or go out to parties back in high school; your parents always saying something about your meds not mixing well with alcohol. But you had been on them since you were seven, around the time you started your piano lessons. You felt like it was just an excuse for them to keep you under their supervision. But it didn’t matter anyways, they weren’t here to hover over your shoulder now- and damn did you feel alive.
Lost in the rhythm, you dance along with your friends, letting the alcohol guide your messy movements. You feel your back stick to Yuna’s skin as you move against her, sweat slicking your body the harder you dance. It was getting hot, but you enjoyed it. With your eyes closed, you sway along to the music and let your laughter mix into the air until you feel a firm grip catch your arm.
“Y/n, we should get going.” A familiar voice says into your ear.
“Whyyy?” you slur, pathetically holding back a giggle as you lean into him. Jake steadies you, catching your frame as he wraps a secure arm around your waist.
“You’re drunk, Y/n.” He says, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your dorm.”
Through half-closed eyes, you give a lazy nod and let your best friend drag you through the crowded frat house. It takes double the time it took to get here than it does to get back to your dorm thanks to your drunken gait and need to look at every flower on the ground, but you manage to make it back to your dorm in one piece.
“Can you change, or do you need help?” He asks, noticing the way you flop onto your bed.
“I’m fine.” you drawl.
Jake quirks an eyebrow as amusement flickers in his eyes. “You sure?” He asks, watching as you try to shimmy your way out of your skirt and top. Leaning against your wall, he crosses his arms.
“I said I’m fine.” you insist, finally managing to wriggle out of your clothes, leaving you in your panties and bra. Jake, ignoring the flush in his cheeks lets out an awkward chuckle.
“Ok, I believe you.” He says, ignoring the way his heart flutters at seeing your cute messed up state. Moving to your bed, he grabs at your blanket and pulls it above your chest, “Text me when you wake up, alright?”
Before leaving, Jake reaches into your bedside drawer and pulls out a bottle of Advil, making sure to fill up a glass of water as well, placing it next to your bed before slipping out of your room quietly. Hearing the door click behind him, he turns around only to come face to face with the one and only, Heeseung.
“Gosh, do me a favor and put on a bell.” He gasps, clutching at his heart. Heeseung’s expression doesn’t change though, his gaze all the more intense as he looks at Jake with an unreadable stare.
“You’re so careless, sneaking around in her room now?” He says, a smirk dancing on his lips.
“I’m just looking out for her, Heeseung.” Jake says, attempting to step around the boy. With a quick side step, Heeseung blocks his path, allowing him to deliver his next words in a low whisper.
“You’re not a Guardian Angel, anymore.” He hisses, venom dripping in his voice. “Unless there’s…some sort of ulterior motive?”
Jake forces himself to stay calm, “Stop talking about that.” He asserts, looking around to see if anyone heard, “And don’t be ridiculous. I’m her best friend.” With one final glance, Jake bumps Heeseung in the shoulder to get past him, heading down to the first floor of your dorm building. “Why are you even here?”
Heeseung watches him descend down the steps, his expression twisting into something darker, possessive even. “Just…meeting with a friend.” He mutters. As Jake’s figure disappears down the stairwell, Heeseung turns back to face your door. “Y/n…” He licks his lips after saying your name, the word falling from his lips like honey.
It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, thanks to the special concoctions that Chaeryoung had mixed for you earlier. With Jake’s help, you fall asleep quite fast, but you find the dreams that night were particularly vivid.
Your hands fly across the keys of the grand piano, each note a haunting and lonely calling that fills the seemingly empty space around you. The spotlights harsh glow envelops you, casting everything beyond you into a vast darkness that seems to stretch on to no end. Every note echos, only proving your point that you seem to be in a never ending void.
In the shadows, just beyond the spotlight’s reach sat two blurry figures on wooden chairs. Though their faces were hidden, you could make out the frame of a woman and a man sitting together in close proximity. There was something warm and familiar about them that emanates at you as you continue to play, a feeling that fills you with comfort and sorrow. They sit there in complete silence, watching you.
The song intensifies as each chord brings you to reach new heights, the melody picking up as it fills the unmoving space. Your hands are moving faster now, an ache growing in your chest as you reach the climax of the song. Finally, pressing the final key, you look up, only to see that the figures have faded. In their absence leaves a deep, inexplicable grief.
To say you could’ve had a better morning was an understatement. Your head is throbbing, and your throat is parched as hell. But to your convenience, an Advil bottle and glass of water decorate your bedside table and you quickly swallow the pill. Feeling the large pill descend down your throat, you close your eyes as if to will the pounding sensation to go away.
With your eyes closed, remnants of your dream come back to your mind and you can’t seem to shake the feeling of that loss from your heart. You never enjoyed your piano lessons, but never had they made you feel grief. It was always a struggle to keep at your lessons, each note feeling like a chore rather than a hobby. Yet now, you don’t think you could find yourself forgetting that melody for some time.
A sudden knock at your door jolts you from your thoughts, the sound echoing in your head. “Y/n, get up!” Jake calls out, his voice muffled. You roll your eyes, feeling an odd annoyance towards the sound of your best friend's voice.
“Come in!” You shout back. The door swings open, revealing a bored looking Jake. He walks in, having unlocked your door with the illegal key copy he made of your dorm key. He wasn’t one to ever break the rules, but if it meant keeping you safe, he guessed he could bend just a few. “How do you feel?” He asks, coming to sit down on the edge of your bed.
“Like hell,” you admit, rubbing at your temples in a futile attempt to ease the aching pain.
“Did you take the pills I left out for you?” He probes, leaning over to see if you had drunk the glass of water.
His overbearingness has you rolling your eyes harder than you normally would and you wince, your headache pounding as you do so. “Yes, I-” Before you can finish your sentence, your phone begins to ring, interrupting the moment. You hold a hand up to Jake, signaling for him to shut his mouth. “Hello?” you answer, your voice still thick with sleep.
“My sweet vixen,” a smooth voice says, “How did you sleep?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks and you quickly turn your face so that your hair falls to cover your expressions. “I slept fine, thanks.” You reply, doing your best to keep your tone level. Jake perks up upon hearing you talk about your sleep, wondering who would bother asking you how you slept.
“I’d like to meet up around 4 p.m. in the Cornox building to discuss our economics project with you and Jake, would that be okay?” Heeseung continues, his voice confident as he toys with the pen in his fingers back at his own dorm.
“Yeah, I’ll let him know.” you say right before hastily hanging up the call. Lowering your hand, you look at Jake who had been staring at you intently.
“Who was that?” He asks with wide eyes.
“Heeseung,” you say plainly, avoiding his gaze as you feel the lingering heat on your cheeks still there. As you stand up from your bed, you feel the cool air hit your naked skin and you scramble to the bathroom. “Oh my gosh, Jake! Don’t look at me!”
Jake rolls his eyes, striding over to your closet with a casual ease to pick out a pair of shorts and top. “Oh hush, you literally stripped in front of me last night.” He teases, opening your door enough to reach his arm in, handing you the clothes. “How did he get your number?”
“I ran into him at the party last night, did you not see him?” You say, throwing the garments on quickly.
Jake’s face hardens at the thought of you meeting with Heeseung without him there, “I did…I just don’t know.” He answers, hesitating for just a moment before pressing on, “I think you should be careful, he seems- intense.”
You throw Jake a look, brushing off his concerns, “Jake, I can’t exactly ignore him when we have to meet up with him later today to work on the econ project.” Swinging the bathroom door open, you step out. “I can handle myself, now shut up and help me find my econ notebook. I think I left it under my bed.”
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The day moves faster than you’d anticipated, your shared classes with Jake flying by quickly due to his constant whispering in your ear. Though, your one class with Heeseung raises an unease in your stomach you can’t quite shake throughout the day due to the weight of his gaze on your back.
Before you know it, 4 p.m. arrives and you’re standing in the middle of the Cornox building with Jake, the two of you glancing around expectantly. The building was rather old, its building pillars stretching over 12 feet high and carved with intricate detailing that you couldn’t recognize. They rise up into an archway that soars above your heads, giving the building a sort of timelessness to the hall that makes you feel out of place everytime you walk in wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt.
“Didn’t he say the Cornox building?” Jake asks, his foot tapping on the glossed over stone tiles in an irrythmic pattern.
“I did, didn’t I?” a voice drawls from behind.
Turning, you see Heeseung approaching, dressed in a black hoodie and faded blue jeans, such casual clothes for someone with such an intense, magnetic energy. His eyes, sharp and calculating, meet yours for just a moment before he glides past the two of you, claiming a seat at the table before you both. Swallowing, you sit in the chair beside him and Jake follows suit, pulling up a chair next to yours.
“Let’s start by dividing up the project,” Heeseung suggests, pulling out his laptop. “I think Y/n and I should handle the presentation- gather all the research and everything.” He looks over at Jake with a challenge in his stare, “Jake, you can write up the draft for the research paper and then we can edit that before submitting everything.”
You stare at your hands, fingers intertwined and tucked in the safety between your legs as you feel the weight of the silence that stretches between the three of you. Heeseung’s assertive voice weighs heavily in the air, and you’ll be damned if you’re the first one to break the silence. Instead, you keep your gaze fixed downwards as you pull your things from out of your backpack. Jake, fueled with jealousy swallows his words and nods towards Heeseung, pulling his own laptop and textbooks out.
Besides you, Jake stiffens, his jaw clenched as he types furiously at his laptop. ‘Since when did we choose a group leader, huh?’ he thinks to himself. He glances up at Heeseung briefly, a mixture of annoyance glazing over his irises as he represses himself from shouting at the boy.
For the next few hours, the three of you work together in a tense but calm rhythm, only puncturing the steady silence through murmured debates about resources and presentation slides. The earlier tension from before seems to slowly give way through your productive collaboration, and you almost forget about the strained dynamic that Jake and Heeseung seemed to share. After a while, you begin to find your back becoming sore from hunching over your laptop for so long. Stretching your arms above your head, you let out a long sigh.
“Should we call it a day? I think we’ve done enough.” You suggest, rolling your shoulders as your shirt lifts slightly.
Heeseungs gaze flickers down to the sliver of skin that peeks under your shirt, and he leans back with a smirk. “That’s a good idea, Y/n.”
“Yuna told me there’s a 24/7 Cafe just down the street. It’s supposed to be perfect for late-night hangouts, how about we head there for a bit and check it out?” You ask, smiling at the two boys.
Jake nods, offering you a faint smile despite the obvious reluctance towards having to spend more time around Heeseung tugging at his heart. He wasn’t one to say no to you. You gather your things and beckon the boys to hurry up, leaving the Cornox building and walking across the campus under the evening sky. Within minutes, the glow of the cafe comes into view and your eyes sprawl over the pillars adorned with crawling vines and the frosted windows with flower boxes of every color.
Inside, the cafe is warm and inviting as the dim campus lights seep through the windows. The cafe is lit by a warm hue, casting a humble glow over its patrons, creating a cozy sanctuary. Navigating through the space, you find a table in the corner and settle in as Jake heads to the counter to order your drinks. “Did you want anything, Heeseung?” You say, reaching for your wallet. You knew Jake already knew your cafe order, but you didn’t recall him ever asking what Heeseung wanted.
Heeseung places his hand over your own, his fingers cold against your warm ones. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not hungry.” His voice is smooth as he stops you from reaching for your wallet. You smile, feeling a sudden shyness as you pull your hands away from his just as Jake comes back.
“One medium iced vanilla latte for you,” Jake says, placing your drink in front of you. His eyes move towards the vacancy in front of Heeseung and he lets out a hum, “Oh, did you want anything? I just went to the counter out of habit since I always buy Y/n's by default when we go to cafes.” You kick Jake’s shin, annoyed by his attitude and he lets out a strained groan.
Heeseung only smirks, his eyes full of amusement as he ignores Jake’s pathetic attempts at riling him up. “No need, Jake. Y/n already offered but I politely declined.”
The tension in the air is almost palpable, but you do your best to ignore it, focusing instead on keeping the conversation light. Your attempts are futile though as Jake and Heeseung are dead set on staying silent, their gazes crossing from time to time only to throw the occasional dirty look at one another. The only time they open their mouths is to respond to you and you only. But you refuse to let their negative energy affect your night, so you lean back into the booth and let your gaze wander your surroundings, looking for a topic to talk about.
“Oh, is that an automatic piano?” You exclaim, nudging Jake as you lean over to get a better look. Tucked away in the corner of the bustling cafe was a grand piano that seemed to only do so much to fill the already energetic cafe.
Jake follows your gaze, a faint look of recognition on his face, “Oh yeah, I guess it is.”
Heeseung chimes in, “Do you play?”
You meet Heeseung’s gaze, feeling an odd weight in his question. “My parents signed me up for piano lessons when I was seven, but I hated it. I quit as soon as I graduated high school.” You settle back into the booth, closing your eyes so that you could focus better on the piano playing in the background. “Lacrimosa by Mozart.” You murmur.
“I didn’t know you played,” Jake says, genuine surprise flickering across his face.
You shrug, “Well, I hated it so I guess it never really came up. Felt more like a burden than anything. Though I guess I could say it’s a hidden talent of mine.”
Heeseung and Jake exchange a glance when you aren’t looking, too fleeting for you to notice as you finish your drink. Upon the familiar sound of your straw scraping against the bottom of your cup, you frown and get up to excuse yourself. Before you can shuffle around Jake, your phone buzzes- a call from Yeji, asking for you to come over and hang out with her and the girls. “Hey, Yeji asked me to come over and hang out, so I think I’m gonna get going.” You say, shifting around Jake to grab your bag. He swivels his feet out of the booth and you slide past him, waving to them both before leaving the cafe, the scent of your mahogany vanilla perfume lingering in your absence.
When your figure disappears from his view, Heeseung clasps his hands together. “You’re in love with her.” He deadpans, the words striking the air with the bluntness of a hammer.
Jake’s head snaps around, his heart thumping in his chest. “What? She’s my best friend, what do you mean?”
A knowing smirk tugs at Heeseung’s lips and he leans in further, “Because she’s just like Alice.”
The name cuts through Jake’s chest like a knife, an unwelcome reminder of the past he tried so hard to bury. He swallows hard, his voice dropping down to a whisper despite the close proximity of their faces, “I told you to stop talking about this stuff in public.” His voice is almost threatening, annoyance creeping in.
“When did you meet Y/n?” Heeseung presses, insistence evident in his voice.
Jake’s expression hardens as his reluctance grows, “When I was eleven.”
“And when did your memories come back?”
Jake clenches his jaw, realization dawning upon him, “When I was also eleven. But that means nothing.” Silence fills the space as Heeseung leans in even closer, his hands pressing against the table now to trap Jake in between his posture.
“You want to know when I regained my memories?” He asks, face close enough Jake could feel his breath. “When I was six, the moment my parents passed away in a car accident in the middle of a category 3 storm. Just. Like. Alice’s. Parents.” There’s a dangerous venom that drips from Heeseung’s voice now as he closes in on Jake, his hatred for the boy now unrelenting as he reveals the horrors of his past.
Heeseung does his best to control the venom flowing through his veins before continuing, knowing he still had the decency to play nice in a public place like this. “Do you have any idea how many fucking foster homes I went through? How many belts hit my ass because I didn’t clean up the dishes fast enough, or how many nights I spent sleeping outside because I didn’t get an A on my tests?” All the pain, all the unspoken abuse Heeseung went through was coming to light now, and Jake could do nothing but listen to his old best friend relive his past through angry words. “This was my cursed fate, but it seems like you haven’t even started yours.” His glare was enticing now, almost playful.
“You may have loved her enough to break the Guardian Code, but you didn’t pay the price for it like I did. I warned you, but you never listened. And now I’m the one who became a devil for your fucking sins.”
“Heeseung, I- I didn’t know.” Jake stammers, his throat tightening as his words catch, “I really thought we were both still… you know, angels.”
Heeseung scoffs and pulls away from Jake, giving him room to catch his breath. “Of course you didn’t. They thought I was the one that crossed the line, the one that corrupted us. I was the older one, it was me who had to protect us.” Heeseung steps out from the booth, “Watch your back, Sim Jaeyun.”
In his absence, Jake feels the air grow colder as he sits there frozen in his spot. The sound of his heart hammers so hard, he can practically hear it reverberate in his skull, an incessant pounding in the back of his head. The realization has Jake’s guts twisting about, leaving him physically nauseous at the mere thought that this was all because of Jake. He was the one to break the Guardian Code yet he said nothing when they were both dragged down to earth as mortals.
Memories of their time back in Celesta begin to flood Jake’s mind as a cold sweat breaks out across his skin. They had once been inseparable- a special bond between them that kept them joined together at the hip. Jake could recall the countless nights spent under the millions of stars laughing and sparring with Heeseung, exchanging stupid jokes that chipped at one another’s pride, but never the bond between them. Together, they faced every challenge as one, but Jake’s forbidden love severed that bond in an instant the moment he let Heeseung get dragged down to earth with him.
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After leaving the cafe, you feel a weight lift off of your shoulders. Feeling lighter, you make your way to the familiar building of Yeji’s dorm, its boring gray concrete standing in stark contrast to the cafe’s cozy greenery and warm ambience. You spot the iconic purple LED lights illuminating the third floor window on the corner of the building, the familiar color lifting your mood instantaneously as you pull your phone out to let her know you’re here.
Within minutes, a drunken looking Yeji and Ryujin stumble out of the building’s front entrance. “Y/n! Finally, we were waiting for you!”
You slip your arms between theirs as they drag you up the stairs and into their room which was booming with all kinds of music, a playlist including all of your favorites. Lia, sitting cross-legged on the furry carpet raises an eyebrow at you, “We just finished Uno, wanna join the next game?” You excitedly nod, taking a seat down next to her, waiting for your hand to be dealt.
The evening blurs by, beers and coolers in hand as each round of Uno gets more and more chaotic. “Yuna, where are your cards?” Lia asks after Yuna says Uno.
“In the deck?” She says innocently, batting her eyelashes at the older girl.
“Bullshit,” you shout, launching yourself at Yuna as you tackle her, the velocity of your hit causing her body to fall over. Underneath her, a pile of cards fling out and Chaeryoung lets out a loud squeal.
Chaos ensues the moment Yuna’s lame attempt at hiding her cards is revealed, and the game of Una dissipates. “You little cheater!” Yeji gasps, grabbing a pillow to smack over her head. In a matter of seconds, every throw pillow in the room is taken hostage and swung wildly at one another as each girl abandons their decks of cards. Giggles and shrieks fill the hot air, only half of the blows landing due to all of your collectively drunken dazes.
“Alright, I give up!” Yuna gasps through a fit of laughter, clutching her stomach as Ryujin and Yeji ravage her with silk pillows.
As the chaos begins to simmer, you find yourself sprawled across Yeji’s dorm room floor alongside Chaeryoung and Lia, each of you glowing with the buzz of alcohol. Around Yeji’s room are pillows scattered everywhere, Uno cards strewn in places they shouldn’t be and beer bottles rolling about. You let out a sigh of content, rolling onto your side. “I should really get going,” you mumble, stretching as you gather your belongings. “But I’ll see you girls later, alright?”
Each one gives you a sleepy farewell and you blow them a kiss, stepping out of the room carefully so as to not bother anyone else on the floor. When you reach outside, you happily welcome the crisp night air as it washes over your hot and sticky skin. It’s enough to help you make your way back to your dorm.
It was about 10:30 p.m. by the time you got back to your dorm. You shake away the faint buzz that runs through your body as you change into a comfortable pajama set, slipping into your bed quickly. Enveloped in the warmth of your bed, you close your eyes, feeling fatigue wash over you rather quickly.
A chilling sensation trickles through your vessels like an icy breeze hitting your bare skin. You open your eyes slowly, only to reveal a very large, empty ballroom stretching out before you. Its floor-to-ceiling windows line the walls, their sheer curtains adorning each window billowing in the wind as if they were calling out to you. In the eerie silence, you hear a creek from above that echoes through the space- a chandelier above you swaying, casting a haunting shadow against your figure while the candles flicker against the wind- fighting to stay alight in the harsh draft.
Cold raindrops string your cheeks like a slap and you raise a hand to your face to shield yourself from its further assault. Glancing around, your gaze catches on an elevated platform, and atop it sits a grand piano, dark in its solitude. Turning your head, you notice a barrage of seats in front of the platform, but not a single one is occupied, as though they were awaiting an audience that had never arrived.
Drawn to the piano, you step closer, but stop when the keys begin to move on their own- a hauntingly familiar melody filling the thick air. The notes claw at your heart as the melody moves through you, guilt dripping in its wake. And as the song plays on, it continues to rip into you for reasons you can’t understand, leaving your heart in an agonizing mess. Desperate for an escape, you tear your gaze away from the moving keys. Looking anywhere but the piano, your gaze darts around the ballroom until your eyes land on a pair of shadowy figures that seem to only vanish as soon as you focus in on them. With a frustrated sigh, you run towards the middle of the ballroom, bunching up the midnight blue gown to your core so you could run faster.
Without warning, the room begins to spin, blurring into a blinding white until you find yourself standing outside- soaking in a torrential downpour. The road seems to stretch on for miles, illuminated only by the distance lightning strikes, each bolt giving you just a second to see before you.
You were drenched now, your beautiful dress now clinging to your body uncomfortably while your skin, which was once warm in color, was now glowing pale from lack of circulation. Shivering uncontrollably, you notice a pair of headlights approaching you, piercing the darkness almost painfully.
With a loud boom, lightning cracks the sky directly in front of you, casting a temporarily bright light on the car. The sudden strike has the car swerving out of control, skidding against the wet road and into a railing as it flips over your head before crashing into the ground with a sickening crunch. A scream tears from your throat and you run to the car, fire emanating from the vehicle as you strain to listen for anything- a cry, a voice. Falling to your knees, you realize there’s only silence.
You crawl around to the front of the car, ignoring the shattered glass that presses into your knees and look into what you believe to be the front of the car. Through the disfigured windshield, you make out two very bloodied figures, slumped in their seats and drained of any warmth in their bodies. Feeling an acidity lurch forward in your throat, you swallow hard and turn away, tightening your stomach uncomfortable as you crawl back to a different spot.
Away from the site, you look down at your hands, horrified to see blood streaming from your arms and down your hands like crimson tears, splashing onto the ground in a haunting fashion. Unable to bear the weight of everything, you close your eyes. In your panic, all sound seems to deafen around you, but the cold downpour of the rain still remains.
Time stretches on endlessly- until a small sound breaks you out of your panic. Opening your eyes, you catch sight of a bottle of pills spilled across the ground. With trembling hands, you pick up the bottle and read the words Valium just before the label begins to blur due to the misting in your eyes. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierces the air and you drop the bottle, gaze jerking upwards.
Standing before you is a girl- practically a mirror of yourself- but her mouth hangs as if it was dislocated and her eyes a pit of darkness. On either side of her stands two shadowy figures, their forms unrecognizable as they slowly encroach upon your space. As they move in on you, the haunting melody begins to play once more.
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“Y/n, are you even listening to me?” Jake asks, poking your side. His voice, once a source of comfort, now a catalyst for a blow out that seemed to be oncoming. Blinking rapidly, you force your eyes on him to focus, “You’re zoning out again!”
“I’m just tired and I have a headache. So please, stop talking.” You plead with the boy, pulling a pair of headphones out from your bag. He frowns, but you do your best to ignore the sparkle in his eyes as you lean into the textbook in front of you, the words blending together in a haze.
It had been six days since that nightmare- six days of on and off sleep, and you were resenting Jake more and more for reasons you couldn’t understand. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but just being in his presence was upsetting you, and the sound of his voice had you reeling with anxiety. The very scent of him had you thinking of that stupid melody.
Thirty minutes go by without a word from Jake, and you almost forget he’s next to you until his familiar voice interrupts the calm silence once more, “Do you know how to do this question?”
“Jake, I think I’m going to go for a walk.” You say abruptly, shoving your things into your bag. Jake watches in utter confusion as you stand up from the table you were studying and stride away, scratching at his head when he watches your figure leave the area. The headache that had begun to recede now starts to pound at an intensity you’ve never felt.
“Whoah, whoah, whoah! where are you off to in such a rush?” A voice calls, and you turn around to see Heeseung approaching you.
“Not right now, Heeseung.” You say bluntly, moving past him without breaking your hurried strides.
“Hey, talk to me.” His voice is low and calming, and you almost feel your heart flutter at the sincerity in his voice. You hesitate, searching his eyes for a sign of that coldness he’s always had since the first day you met him, but you don’t see it. In fact, you see a warmth in him you don’t recognize, but it weirdly eases the tense coil in your gut.
“I just need some air,” You say, a tremor in your voice. Without letting him respond, you continue walking, but a strong grip on your wrist stops you. “H-Heeseung?!”
“I said, talk to me.” Heeseung’s voice drops even lower now, laced with that familiar intensity you knew so well. His stare is almost predatory like, and you feel your breathing become irregular as you cower under his gaze. “Don’t shut me out, Y/n, I don’t like that.”
You tug on your wrist, testing the waters to see if he’ll let you go, but his grip only tightens. “Heeseung, really. I’m ok, I really just need some air.”
“I’ll come with you then.” His words are gentle, but you knew there was some hidden agenda in the way he spoke to you. He starts to walk forward, stringing you along with ease like a silent declaration that you belonged to him.
“Alone, Heeseung.”
“Y/n, you need me, stop fighting it!” Normally, you would feel frustration bubbling beneath you, but his insistence almost has you flushing at the cheeks. Still, the desire for solitude held priority over everything else, outweighing your flutter of confusion.
“Heeseung, she said she wants to be alone right now!” another voice calls and you turn to see Jake. Irritation flares through you, fueling your short resolve.
“Jake, seriously, leave me alone.”
With Heeseung’s attention elsewhere, you seize the opportunity to pull out of his grip and walk off, quickening your pace enough so they don’t run after you. “Watch it, Sim.” Heeseung hisses, fury simmering in his words when he sees your back turned to him.
“You need to listen to what she says.” he snaps back, crossing his arms in defiance as he balances his own irritation. The air around them charges with a tension so thick a knife could cut it.
“I think you should listen to yourself first. Seems like there’s trouble in paradise.” Heeseung’s words drip with disdain as he pokes fun at Jake. “Not so buddy buddy anymore, I see.” Suppressing the urge to smirk, Heeseung turns around and walks away from Jake, leaving him in a can of frustration fixing to burst at any moment.
Back in your dorm, you find that your irritation only deepend with each step you took to get back. Desperate for some relief, you grab a Red Bull and a bottle of vodka, mixing them into a tumblr in attempts at creating a potent cocktail. You damn sure didn’t accomplish any studying today at the Jeffrey building with Jake by your side, and you know you’d need more than just a little caffeine to power you through the night. So you hoped the vodka would keep you pleasantly buzzed as you hit the books, another all nighter.
Settling into bed, you place your laptop on the lap desk Yeji convinced you to buy earlier in the semester, and dive into your studies. For a few hours, you pat yourself on the back as it seems that your concoction is working wonders. But slowly, the weight of staying up for days pulls you under, and you drift off.
Eventually, your nap is interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. “Who is it?” You call out, wiping away the cold sweat that clung onto your skin. Another nightmare- though the knocking on your door kept you from finishing this one.
“Jake.”
You sigh, bracing yourself before telling him to come in. “Why are you here so late?” You ask, pointing to your digital clock which reads 12 a.m.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
You glance around your room which was softly illuminated by your glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. “What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t been talking to me as much. You’ve been snapping at me a lot, avoiding my calls and texts, and it’s always me initiating the conversations recently.” His words come out in a rush, and for the first time since the nightmares started, you finally feel yourself sympathizing with him.
With a sigh, you sit up in your bed and cross your legs, patting the space next to you for him to come sit. Maybe it was time for you to finally tell him what was going on, you could only keep running for so long. “Jake, I’ve been having these awful nightmares that have been keeping me up at night. It’s been ruining my sleep, so I’ve been pulling away from everyone recently. It’s not just you.”
Your words offer only a small measure of comfort towards Jake, his tense shoulders only half sagging, “That’s not everything, Y/n. You’re not telling me enough.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you, Jake. Really.”
It’s quiet for a moment, each second stretching out as Jake thinks about what to say. “Okay,” He says softly before moving closer to you. His thighs touch yours as he speaks in a much lower voice now, “Y/n, just promise that you’ll talk to me next time. No secrets, I miss you too much.”
His words seem to stir something deep within you, and you feel that familiar warmth of affection you had held for him before all this chaos and confusion. The tenderness in his gaze- it felt almost foreign now, like you didn’t recognize him. But his words brought that familiarity back to you almost instantly. And he missed you, and that struck a chord within you that had your pulse beating at tenfold.
Without even thinking, you bring your hand to his cheek, cupping it gently and running a thumb over the plush of his skin. He closes his eyes, leaning into the touch with a sigh. “Jake…” you whisper, feeling the warmth of his cheek send butterflies through your body. In a matter of seconds, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips softly against his.
The feeling of his lefts against yours felt almost natural, as if some hidden version of yourself had already loved Jake in another world. So for a moment, you stay like that, your lips lingering on his in a silent exchange of intimacy. When Jake finally pulls back, he doesn’t go far- his forehead opting to rest against yours as his hands cup your face with the same tenderness in his gaze.
“Y/n…” he breaths, looking into your eyes. You match his gaze with an intensity you’ve never felt before and he pushes his lips onto yours again, this time with a passion almost desperate, like he’s been waiting lifetimes for this. “You drive me crazy,” he murmurs between open mouthed kisses, his voice rough with longing. He grazes his tongue along your lower lip and you let him slip it in almost immediately, gasping when the wet muscle tangles with your own.
The sensation leaves you breathless and you weave your fingers through his hair in an attempt to deepen the kiss. He shifts his hands to the back of your head, guiding you down onto your bed so he can slot himself between your legs. With his body pressed between your core, you let out the softest moan, leaving the space in Jake’s sweats tightening. “Jake- I need you…” You please, pulling at his hair.
He lets out a string of groans, instinctively grinding against you as you drag your fingers through his dark locks. “Don’t say that, I won't be able to control myself.” He says as he dips down to press kisses on your neck.
“I don’t want you to control yourself. Take me.” You whisper, your face buried into his hair.
“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He whispers, his hands slipping underneath your camisole. His cold hands ghost over your breasts, leaving you to shudder at the temperature difference when he finally cups them in his large hands. “You’re so cute when you shake…” He squeezes them firmly, flicking his thumb over your nipple. The unexpected action elicits a high-pitched moan out of you, a sound that seems to only encourage him further.
With a deliberate slowness, Jake pushes your camisole up to your neck, his eyes devouring the site of you laying bare before him. “So pretty…” He murmurs, his tongue tracing the shape of his lips. As he takes in every detail, he moves one of his hands down to your shorts, slipping his fingers under your waist band. “Can I?” He asks, his voice dripping with restraint.
You nod quickly, biting your lip with impatience. “Just fucking touch me already.” You manage to squeak, the tremble in your voice drawing out a low chuckle from Jake as he slides your panties to the side, quickly inserting a finger into your wet cunt.
“Oh my God, Y/n. You’re soaking.” He groans as his finger collects your juices, pumping in and out with lewd sounds. His finger moves in and out with an almost embarrassing ease, the sensation sending sparks through you as you cry out. Receptive to your body’s needs, he inserts a second, then a third finger, quickening his pace. The way your hips lift off the bed to meet his hand has his cock twitching under the restraints of his briefs and sweats, begging to be released.
“Jake- I’m gonna cum!” You cry out, feeling your walls clench around his slender fingers.
“That’s it, angel.” He praises, curling his fingers just right as he feels your walls spasm around his fingers. “Good girl… Just like that.”
His pace slows down significantly as he lets you ride out your orgasm on his fingers, your breathing erratic as his digits continue to bend randomly just out of plain fun. “You did so good for me, angel.” He murmurs as he slips his fingers out of you, cleaning them off with his mouth. The sight alone has you shivering, and before you can speak, he’s got you trapped in a lewd kiss.
You taste yourself on him as your tongues connect, the idea of your arousal being shared in such an intimate kiss is intoxicating and you can’t help but want even more. “Jake…”
“What is it, baby?”
A flush spreads across your cheeks, but at this point, you’re too desperate to care. “I need to feel you,” You reach your hands out for added effect, “I need to feel your cock inside of me.” The whine in your voice is almost embarrassing, but he only lets out a pleased hum in response.
Jake pushes off of you just enough to strip you of your shorts and panties. His eyes never leave yours as he reaches down to push his sweats off next, his briefs following right after. You hold your breath when you see his cock spring free, pink and achingly hard due to Jake’s neglect towards himself.
“See how hard you’ve made me, angel?” He whispers, wrapping a hand around himself. His eyes don’t leave yours as he gives himself a few strokes, smirking when he watches your eyes glisten at the sight.
“Hurry up, Jake.” You say, grabbing his wrist. With a soft laugh, Jake lines himself up with your entrance and presses against you, drawing out your desperation. “Please, I need you so bad.” You beg, wiggling your hips for friction.
He sucks in a breath, feeling the pressure of your pussy rub against his tip suddenly, “Be careful, angel.” He says, pulling back slightly to give himself a few more strokes before finally entering. Inch by inch, he pushes himself into you, closely observing your face for any signs of pain. Eventually, he bottoms out and waits for your signal to move.
You tap on his shoulder twice, your silent signal for him to start thrusting. With a relieved sigh, he begins to move his hips back and forth, relishing in the way your walls hug his cock so well. The stimulation of his member rubbing against your walls has you seeing white, and you swear you can practically feel each vein moving against you as he ruts into you.
As time goes on, the snaps of his hips become sharper and sharper. “Augh- Y/n… I’m gonna cum.” He pants, the thrusts becoming messier by the minute.
You can barely manage to cry out a response due to the speed at which he’s thrusting into you, so you just moan instead, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down to you. Latching your lips onto his, you feel his hips stutter in rhythm before he stops, a sudden warmth beginning to fill you up.
The stillness of his hips allows you to catch your breath as you smile against him, your arms wrapped around his neck. “That felt so nice, angel.” He whispers into the crook of your neck, slowly pulling out of you and plopping onto the space beside you.
With him laying next to you, his face so close to yours, your mind starts to flood with thoughts that aren’t clouded with lust. His features are softer now, no longer laced with an intensity of desire that you had seen just minutes before. You never thought you would find yourself in a position like this with your childhood best friend, but in this moment, it feels so right. Like it was always supposed to be this way.
All that tension and anger you had felt towards him seemed to have melted away the second he said he missed you. You don’t understand why there was so much resentment to be had in the first place, not after all the nightmares. They were so vivid and dark, so specifically intimate in regards to the pain and loss. You felt as though you would’ve been more keen on reaching out to Jake for some comfort due to the intensity of those nightmares, though to your surprise it was the opposite. But it didn’t make sense, so you could only rationalize your sudden resentment towards him due to your lack of sleep. But it didn’t matter now because everything felt so far away suddenly, all that bitterness and anger- as if it belonged to someone else this whole time.
Right now, you felt an infatuation so strong it almost terrified you- like you would do anything for Jake.
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Your resentment towards Jake has subdued quite a bit since yesterday, though you have yet to speak about what transpired between the two of you since last night. Maybe it was the awkward tension that now lingered between you, finally softening the angry heat you unfairly pushed onto his agenda for so long- you no longer yearned to stray far from his presence in that same way anymore. Still, it was clear that the dynamic between you and your best friend had changed since yesterday, and Heeseung had noticed.
“Y/n, are you feeling better after yesterday?” Heeseung asks, shifting his attention away from the powerpoint on his laptop to catch the subtle exhaustion on your face.
It was just you, Jake, and Heeseung sitting at a table located in the Cornox building, working together to complete the finishing details of your econ project. You dreaded the moment you had to meet up with them today, scoring three energy drinks before coming here.
“I guess I am, yeah,” you reply, though you don’t feel confident in your answer. Exhaustion sticks to you like cling wrap, an annoying pest that won’t go away no matter how much caffeine you ingest. The little sleep you had managed to acquire from falling asleep while studying with that alcoholic concoction in your blood offered you little to no respite; your mind still tangled with the memory of the nightmares and the intimacy you shared with your best friend.
Last night’s nightmare may have been cut short by Jake’s knocking, but it was no less brutal than the last one. The memory of it lingers, raw and fresh in your mind as you replay the scene in your head- a boy and a girl screaming at one another, their voices cracking while that same damn melody plays in the background. They were fighting, though you couldn’t remember why. But it didn’t matter, the fight itself wasn’t what disturbed you; it was the grief that had your heart sinking six feet deep that was all encompassing as you listened to their choked sobs.
The girl’s voice in particular was especially painful, strained and choked with an anguish that felt too real to your own. Every word was like a drag, and it was clear that she was on the edge of something devastating, irreversible. Somehow, you knew that she was losing the will to keep fighting.
You snap out of your thoughts, realizing Heeseung’s eyes are locked onto yours a bit too intently, a dark cloud shrouding his irises. Clearing your throat, you shift your focus down to your laptop as you feel a rush of heat travel to your cheek, Jake stirring in his seat across from you.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Heeseung says in a whisper, his voice laced with an intensity that sends a ripple of uncertainty through you. His hand lands on your arm and he gently rubs it up and down, but the gesture only makes you more uncomfortable, like he’s staking a claim on you. “But I can tell there’s still something on your mind. You know you can always talk to me, right?”
You give him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his mind, “Really, I’m doing fine.” you tell him, ignoring the unease settling in your stomach. You're hopeful that your response will be enough to quell his concern, but it only seems to encourage him to pry further.
“I’m just worried about you… Your happiness is what matters the most to me.” His hand slides down to yours, and before you can pull away, he interlocks his fingers with yours, the coolness of his hand masking the warmth of your own. The gesture feels intoxicatingly intimate, and you freeze at his sudden possessiveness.
Jake’s gaze lingers over the sight of your interlocked hands and he freezes. Clenching his jaw, he forces himself to tear his gaze away before beginning to restlessly tap his fingers on the table, a pathetic attempt to calm his irritation.
“I appreciate it, really.” You murmur, pulling out of his grip. “I’m going to go get a snack, do you guys want anything?” Heeseung bites his lip before settling back into his seat, though his eyes stay sharp as he focuses on your figure. When nobody responds, you pad away, eager to escape the escalating tension growing in the air.
“What are you doing with her? You’re making her uncomfortable!” Jake says, breaking the silence when he sees your figure turn the corner.
Heeseung only smirks, ignoring the glare Jake shoots at him, “I’m not making her uncomfortable, Jake. This is what she needs, and it sure as hell isn't you.” Heeseung stares at the boy in an almost taunting way before continuing, “So whatever the hell you did with her last night? I’d suggest you take a step back before regretting it.”
“Do you not hear yourself? You sound crazy, Heeseung.”
“Crazy?” He murmurs, his voice dripping with dark amusement, “Maybe, but that’s what devotion looks like, Jake. I wouldn’t expect you to understand it.”
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Despite his best wishes, your resentment towards Jake returned in the following weeks following his encounter with Heeseung. As you grew closer with Heeseung, the more calls and texts you ignored from Jake. Your resentment and anger with Jake came back stronger then ever, and there was no amount of explaining or convincing that would manage to make a difference. Every interaction he had with you just felt like you were pulling away even further.
Jake slumps into the couch at the mere thought of you again, staring at the floor as his friends talk about a variety of subjects. “Jake, I know the floor’s interesting but you really need to stop staring at it.” Sunghoon said, flicking Jake on the arm.
“Me and the floor are doing just fine, thanks,” Jake mutters, grabbing a pillow to hug close to him.
“Then why are you staring?” Jungwon asks, nudging him in the side.
Jake ignores his friend. “I’m not,” he grumbles.
“What happened to staring at Y/n?” Niki teases, tossing a throw pillow at Jake to get him to look up.
Jake scowls, suddenly regretting that night he struck up a conversation with them at that party. “First of all, I don’t stare at Y/n. And second of all, nothing happened. We’ve just been busy with midterms and everything.” Jake focuses on keeping his voice neutral as he explains to his friends why he seems so out of it, but they don’t seem to be convinced. He wasn’t lying, nothing really had happened after they slept together. They didn’t even talk about it, but somehow that resentment came creeping back while Heeseung slithered his way in.
Jay and Niki exchange a look, “You don’t look very busy staring at that floor-”
“I’M NOT STARING AT THE FLOOR!” He snaps, patience breaking in two.
Sunghoon’s dorm room erupts into a fit of laughter as Jake does his best to ignore the vibrations of his friend’s joy, trying to calm himself. “I’m just thinking of the best way to get home this fall break. I’m going to visit my family.”
“I think there’s a bus route that passes right by your neighborhood,” Jay says, his chest heaving as he calms down from laughing so hard, “It’s like a five-hour journey though.”
“Yeah, that’s the only issue… the bus ride is gonna suck ass.”
Jake hated riding buses. They always made him motion sick, and even more than that, there was too much time to think when the journeys stretched past 30 minutes. He knew as well as anyone else that there were things weighing heavily on his mind, things he’d rather not confront. But there was no other way to get home. His car was stuck at his parents’ place, and he wasn’t going to spend a break on campus where you and Heeseung would probably be around. So he’d have to make do with the bumpy, five-hour ride.
And bumpy it was. Long too, almost nauseating had it not been for the dimenhydrinate he popped into his mouth twenty minutes before getting on the bus, though it did nothing to quell the sick feeling in his chest when he thought about you and Heeseung. You weren’t even talking to him now, Heeseung was always around to pull you away from him when he got close enough to speak to you. Jake couldn’t deny but admit he felt helpless around Heeseung. There was nothing to do but hope that Heeseung would somehow mess up and that you’d come crawling back to him. With his head against the rumbling window, Jake decides he’d rather not spend the rest of the bus ride dwelling on things he couldn’t change, and shuts his eyes instead.
The plan was for Jake to stay home for a week. Maybe that’d be enough time for you to cold down and figure out whatever it was that you were dealing with. And maybe Jake could even use that time to screw his head on straight too. But more than that, he wanted this time to spend with his family and Layla, his dog that he misses so much. So he welcomed the distraction warmly, his family and dog being a bittersweet reminder of life before Heeseung.
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A week has passed now since Jake came home, and there was still no sign of action from your side, much to Jake’s dismay. The silence between the two of you was deafening, and the flicker of hope that Jake was holding onto was starting to dissipate. It frustrated him to no end not knowing where he stood in your life, and the lack of response to his plethora of texts had him pulling his hair out.
Deciding against boarding the same insufferable bus ride again, he opts to drive the car his dad bought him for his 16th birthday back to campus instead. As he prepares to leave, his mom waves him off at the door. “I’ll see you guys during Winter break,” he says with a forced smile, “Yes, I’ll tell Y/n you miss her. Yes, I will ask if she wants to come visit.”
Jake winces as he says your name and draws in a long breath when he sees his mom reenter his home. With one last look at his childhood home, he starts up his car and travels back to campus, the long and lonely journey giving him some temporary space to breathe.
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“Y/n, isn’t this music box pretty?” Lia calls, waving a wooden box delicately in her hands towards you. You pause, setting the clothes in your hands back down on the table and walk towards her, focusing your gaze on the box in her hands. The box is beautifully worn, Its edges carved with a delicate gold and the mahogany wood bruised and marked by years of handling. Handing the box to you, Lia nods her head in encouragement as if to tell you to open it.
Slowly, you pry the box open, revealing an interior lined with a plush red velvety interior. In the center was a mock stage that sat a delicately crafted figure- a woman sitting before a grand piano, as if to showcase her playing the melody that was to come from the box. “This is beautiful,” you murmur, raising the box closer to your face.
“I think you need to wind it up,” Ryujin says, peeking over.
You flip the box over, closing the lid shut and winding up the cool metal of the notch on the back. With anticipation, you open the lid one more time and watch as the figure that was sitting comfortably on the stage begins to rotate slowly. Then, the melody begins- soft and delicate.
The music plays out softly, but it swells the surrounding area in a dream, wrapping you in a haunting embrace. Each note carries a whisper from a place you can’t quite reach, stirring something unfamiliar within you. As the tune unfolds further, grief begins to settle deep beneath your skin and you start to feel goosebumps prick at your arms.
This melody sounds awfully familiar. Closing your eyes, you wrack your brain, listening intently in hopes of hearing that one note that may resonate within you and tell you why it sounded so familiar. This melody… It was the same one from that dream. The shadowy figures, the spotlight, the grief… These same notes brought forth the same emotions from that dream, a subtle reminder of something buried yet not forgotten. The box suddenly feels heavier than it needs to, almost as if it’s absorbing the weight of your emotions now, each note twisting a blade further into your chest.
A disturbing chill runs down your spine as you realize that this wasn’t just some music box, but a piece of your past. A fragment of your past- one you couldn’t remember. “Y/n, are you alright?” A voice draws you out from your inner turmoil, and you turn to see Ryujin looking at you with concern.
You give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, waving her concern off quickly, “I’m ok, just so invested in the music. I think I’m gonna buy the box, actually.” You tell her, tucking it into your basket. Ryujin returns your response with a nod, though her eyebrows remain furrowed. With the music box tucked away in your basket, you finish shopping at the vintage shop with the girls until they’re satisfied. You do your best to try and stay present, though the haunting melody of the music box stays playing in a loop in your head, each note barely scratching an itch you can’t quite reach.
You’re in a daze as you reach the register, whether it be from the lack of sleep or the sudden revelation of the melody, you’re not too sure. When you leave, the girls are discussing amongst themselves which store they want to visit next, but you’re quick to wave them off and tell them you’re heading home. “Just feeling tired, that’s all.” You tell them, but you knew that was a lie. You needed to speak to Jake.
You hadn’t spoken to Jake since break had started, which had been a week and a half now. You’re aware that your resentment had led him to going back home for break, though Jay had reached out to you recently to let you know he came back to campus yesterday.
Ever since your nightmares had started, you could feel this growing resentment towards him, whether you could explain it or not, you just couldn’t stand to see him. Though there was a period of time in which the walls around you had fallen down for just a few days after a flurry of emotions led you to sleeping with him. It didn’t last long as Heeseung slipped in and rebuilt that wall brick by brick with a possessiveness that everyone except you could see. But this melody, it irked you to reach out to him, so you did. You don’t waste a moment texting him to come over as soon as you get back to your dorm.
His reply is almost instant: on my way.
He’s knocking on your door within minutes, not bothering to use his key in your room because honestly, he’s not sure he has that liberty right now. You call out to let him know to come in, and when he does, you see a sad puppy eyed looking Jake enter. Old you would’ve teased him about it and pulled him into a tight embrace, but now, you’re showing him your music box almost immediately.
Without a word, you wind up the familiar notch and open the lid, letting it fill the small space. As it does, you watch as Jake’s expressions shift almost immediately, his eyes darkening and his body going rigid. “You know this melody, don’t you?”
He walks over to your bed, sitting on the edge. With a swallow, he nods his head before dropping it into his hands. He clenches his jaw, knowing you won’t talk until he explains himself, “This is the same song Alice was going to play that night.”
“Alice?” You echo, your confusion only growing, “What the hell are you talking about? Who the fuck is Alice?”
He looks away, his eyes searching the room as if to look for an escape. His hands run up and down his thighs in an anxious manner as his breathing quickens, “Y/n, it’s not easy for me to explain… I don’t know if you’ll trust me after, or even believe me for that matter.”
You can feel the frustration rising and you scoff, “I’m past caring at this point, Jake. I’ve been having nightmares for weeks.” You bring your hands to your hair, your eyes misting with tears. “I can’t sleep, can’t think straight. And this fucking melody- It’s driving me insane.”
Jake’s eyes flicker with a hint of sympathy, but he holds back the urge to reach out and cradle your cheeks with his large hands. Instead, he holds your frustrated gaze with his own, “Y/n, Heeseung and I… We’re Guardian Angels. Or, we were.”
You feel a wave of disbelief ripple through your body and you let out a pathetic laugh, “Shut up.”
“Fine.” He deadpans, his jaw tightening in annoyance as he crosses his arms. God, you knew he could be stubborn, but you didn’t know he was this stubborn. You smack his arm and he winces, rolling his eyes before continuing. “A long time ago, Heeseung and I were Guardian Angels, best friends too. We were assigned to protect a girl named Alice. But Y/n, we failed her. Our selfishness blinded us and she died.” He pauses, voice wavering as if he’s fighting to continue. A harsh weight settles across your chest, and you struggle to keep eye contact with your best friend, “Our selfish actions led to the death of her parents, and she killed herself after because of it.
“When she died, we were kicked out of Heaven and sent here as mortals with a curse on our shoulders as punishment.” Jake tries his best to explain, pausing at awkward moments and clicking his tongue when he can’t find the right words, “You’re Alice, or really just her reincarnation- carrying bits and pieces of her memories. I think these nightmares are your way of regaining your memories. It was kind of like this for me as well.”
When he presses his lips together, you know he’s finished speaking and your heart swells up in anger. You stare at him, mind swirling in a mess of thoughts as your voice gets caught in your throat. “So you- you knew?” Your voice shakes as you stand up from your bed, “You knew this whole time I was having these dreams- these fucking nightmares, that I was reliving the past of someone’s life that isn’t mine? You didn’t say anything?”
Jake lowers his head, tears pricking his eyes now, “I… I thought I was protecting you.” he whispers.
“Protecting me?” You laugh obnoxiously loud, the lack of sleep hitting you like a truck. You fall to the ground, clutching your bed side table for balance, practically sobbing hysterically now, “Well you did the damn opposite, Jake.” The way his name falls from your lips has him physically flinching. “I’ve been suffering, doing everything I can to not fall asleep. My grades are falling apart because I can’t stay awake in class long enough to pay attention.”
Jake stands off from your bed and crouches down next to you, placing his hand on your arm in an attempt to console you, but his sudden touch only has you recoiling backwards. “I was being selfish, Y/n. Please, I love you.” He cries, “I didn’t want to lose you again.”
“Lose who?” You ask, letting out a bitter laugh as you stand up. “You never let me decide, did you?”
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You pound on Heeseung’s door, not a care in the world for the other rooms closely neighboring his own. Your own festering anger practically bubbling up your throat, you continue your assault on the wooden door until a tired looking Heeseung opens up. “What the hell-” He starts, but you shove him inside, slamming his door behind you.
His dorm room is an assortment of black and red, feeling more like a dark lair than a college dorm. This was your first time in his dorm, and you noticed how he took it upon himself to cover the bright white walls with crimson themed posters and red LEDs to decorate its borders.
Ignoring the creepily gothic trinkets that adorned his desk, you approach him with anger. “Who the fuck is Alice?” You seethe, shoving him onto his desk chair.
His own responding smirk has you fighting to not punch him right then and there, “I see you spoke to Jake,” His voice is soft, almost too soft to be speaking to someone approaching him with such anger. Standing up from his chair, he steps towards you, the heat from his body engorging your flame, igniting it further. “Tell me, vixen… What did little Jakey tell you?”
“He told me everything,” You take a deep breath in as you let the words tumble out of you in a rush, “How you two used to be angels, that you both made some ‘selfish decision’ with some girl named Alice. And that I’m-” Your voice catches, and Heeseung brings his hand up to your chin.
“Go on, continue.”
“He said that I’m her.”
Heeseung’s smirk seems to drop for a second, surprise flashing across his face, but he’s quick to recover. “Selfish decisions,” he says to himself, voice thick with amusement, “So that’s what he calls it.” He pauses to let out a bitter laugh, pulling away from you despite your inner reluctance. “Did he tell you that we were actually in love? Did he tell you what loving Alice cost me?”
The look on your face only confirms Heeseung’s answer. “Jakey, so naive… And did he tell you that he loved you, too?”
You nod, your own admission twisting something inside of you. His smirk only widens, and you feel your anger bubble further as you wait for Heeseung to speak again. “Oh, sweetie.” he whispers, “Jake doesn’t love you. He loves Alice.”
“You’re lying…” You say, stumbling back as you process his words.
“Am I?” He asks. “I have reason to believe that Jake didn’t tell you the full story.”
You avoid his gaze, closing your eyes in an attempt to shut out the reality before you. Observing your delicate state, Heeseung steps closer, catching you around the waist and pulling you in with a strong grip that sends goosebumps along your skin. “Michael, or what some may know him as the Archangel, transformed us into mortals. Though Jake got to stay linked to his angel hierarchy, I was unfairly condemned into life as a mortal devil.
You look up at Heeseung, briefly fazed by the intimate distance he has put you in before stammering, “What- what do you mean?”
“What I mean, is that Heaven is not always, just. That I am the one paying for Jake’s sins when it was him who was the direct cause of Alice’s tragedy.”
“I don’t believe that, Jake would never do such a thing.” Despite the words that fall from your mouth, a gnawing doubt creeps into your mind, making it harder for you to believe them yourself.
Heeseung’s gaze sharpens, an enticing calmness in his voice, “Y/n, you’re the reincarnation of Alice, which means you’re here for one thing and one thing only.”
Before you can utter a response, he pulls you in closer, his arms wrapping around you tighter than they ever have. His hips are pressing against yours now, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “I don’t understand…” you murmur, unable to tear your eyes away from his lustful gaze.
His eyes lower, his intense a seeping poison as he pierces your soul, “You’re here to do what Alice couldn’t,” His proximity overwhelms you as his lips hover just inches from yours, “We can be immortals together, we just need a sacrifice.” His voice is almost desperate now as he talks about immortality, a wish only mortals could ever dream of.
The room almost spins as you process Hesseung’s words, your mind reeling with a plethora of thoughts. “Immortals? Both of us?” You question, feeling faint as the revelation of your reality slams into you.
“Y/n, you’ve never just been a human, not entirely. You’re Alice’s reincarnation, and you carry an ability no other human mortal does.” He says almost matter of factly, like you were supposed to just understand that at face value. “If we end Jake’s life, we’ll earn the right to escape our own. You’ll be free from this nightmare.”
“I just don’t understand. What happens to us if he dies?”
His breath catches in his throat as he thinks of his next words carefully. “We won't ascend back to being angels, our path is different.” Heeseung’s eyes darken as he answers your question.
“Different how?”
“We’ll become immortal devils, Y/n. But we’ll be with each other forever, knowing that we avenged Alice.” With Heeseung’s answer, you swear you could feel the room get colder. His proposition wasn’t just about getting revenge, but a lifetime of something eternally darker. “It’s either this, or you both face a life of torture chosen by fate.”
A harsh shiver rips through you as you realize the weight of what Heeseung is asking of you. A surge of conflicting emotions crashes through you, but there’s something darker that simmers just beneath the surface. A part of you is almost intrigued by the idea. Despite the alarm bells sounding in the back of your head, you find yourself suppressing the sounds, nodding before you can think. “Am I really just here to get revenge for Alice? Is that all I’m here for?”
Heeseung’s lips curl into a smirk, leaning even closer than he was before. Now, with his breath fanning against your lips, you can’t help but press your thighs against each other as a warmth spreads below. “The world may have made you an instrument for her revenge… but I can give you purpose. Let me make you mine. Give me all of you.”
With a sudden and intense pull, he presses his lips against yours fiercely, the kiss rough and urgent as though he was marking you- claiming you. You respond with equal fervor, your arms pulling him in by the neck as you open your mouth, letting his tongue greet yours. As your tongues fight for dominance, his hands slide down to your ass, gripping them with a strength that you’re sure will leave bruises in the morning. “You drive me insane/” He growls, pulling away to shove you onto his bed.
“Take your clothes off.” He commands, stripping himself of his shirt, his belt and pants coming off right after with practiced ease. Blinded by desire, you follow his lead and slip out of your clothes, feeling overwhelmed by his gaze as it rakes over your bare skin with an unrestrained hunger. “You’re going to do exactly what I tell you, do you understand?”
You manage a weak nod, though it doesn’t satisfy him in the slightest. His hand comes down on your ass, a loud slap echoing in his dorm room. “Use your words, slut.” He growls, his voice rough with callus.
“Yes, Heeseung,” you whimper, your voice low with submission as the burn from his hand begins to sear through your body.
Satisfied with your response, he crawls over you, his bare chest brushing against you before flipping you over onto your stomach. Without warning, he aligns himself with your hole and thrusts himself forward, using your slick as lube. As his length pushes into you, a gasp rips from your throat upon feeling his member violently stretch you out all at once. “Hee, it’s- it’s too much!” You gasp, a sob of pleasure and pain wracking your body as you’re forced to yield to his cock filling you up completely.
“Fucking take it, slut.” He curses, slamming his hips into yours at a savage pace, disregarding your pleading. With a groan of pleasure, he leans forward to press his chest into your back, forcing you into his mattress. He continues his relentless abuse on your pussy, his balls slapping against your core as he thrusts in and out. “You’re doing so well, y/n.” He praises, pressing kisses on your ear, noticing the clench of your pussy let up as you finally relax around him.
He finally gets off of you, giving you a little more room to breathe “Look at you, sucking me in so well,” he coos, leaning back so he can watch his cock slip in and out of you. In an act of pure lust, Heeseung reaches forward to grab your arms, pinning them behind you while using his other hand to press your head further into his bed. “Taking me so well,” he moans, reaching the hilt of your cervix as he adjusts himself, allowing him to push deeper into you.
With your sobs muffling into his sheets, Heeseung lets go of you and wraps his arms around your waist to flip you, quickly aligning himself between your legs. With a practiced quickness, he shoves himself back into your swollen cunt, his own moans mixing with yours. With his pelvis kissing the back of your thighs, you desperately claw at his back for purchase, “S-slow down, Heeseung!” You beg, feeling a coil tighten around in your stomach.
“Just a little longer, vixen.” He encourages, snapping his hips into you even faster.
“I’m gonna cum, Hee!” You clench around his member, your vision going white as a wave of pleasure crashes over you. He doesn’t stop though, in fact, he pushes your legs together to lay against his shoulder, picking your ass up off the bed to buck into you even deeper.
“Fuck, just hold on a little bit more, vixen. I’m almost there,” he says as he clenches his jaw, feeling the way his balls clench up in anticipation. In just a matter of seconds, he’s emptying his load into you as he presses desperate kisses into your calf, lightly biting you in between each kiss.
A shiver of pleasure runs through you as his warmth fills your core, and you close your eyes, savoring the sensation as he lets himself soften inside of you. Moments later, he carefully pulls out, running to grab a towel so he can catch whatever drips out of you. His touch is gentle as he tends to you, softly prodding at your swollen folds as he collects his arousal into the towel. Once he’s finished, he slips into a pair of loungewear and tosses you one of his shirts and your panties, his scent overwhelming your senses.
Settling back into bed, he opens his arms out for you to crawl into, and you do so with a large smile. Laying your head on his chest, you let out a long sigh of content and rest your hand on his abdomen. “Y/n…” he says, tangling his fingers through your hair. You hum out a response, closing your eyes. “Will you join Hell with me?”
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A piercing ringtone jolts Jake from a heavy but dreamless sleep, the screen of his phone lighting up to illuminate the room. He reaches his hand out from the warmth of his comforter to fumble around his bedside, searching blindly until he finds his phone. “What the…?” He mutters, squinting at the brightness as he picks it up to check the caller ID.
“Jake?” Your voice trembles through the speaker, hardly recognizable through the thick layer of distress.
Jake blinks, his grogginess fading away fast as he registers the shakiness in your voice. “Y/n? What’s going on? Are you okay?”
A broken sob tears through you as you respond, twisting his gut in half, “I’m sorry I blew up on you,” you murmur, your voice thick with regret, “I went out with the girls to some club to let off some steam… But I can’t find them now- I just want to go home.” A choked sob catches at your throat, and Jake winces.
“Where are you? Send me your location, I’m calling an Uber.”
“No!” You cry, your voice dripping in desperation. “The storm is too heavy for Uber to be in service right now.” He looks out through his window where rain streaks the glass in torrents, driven hard by the wind that shakes the reinforced glass. “Can’t you come get me? I really need you…”
A heavy silence follows on the line as Jake listens to the heavy thunder rumble through his building, a menacing growl undercutting his hesitation. He knew it’d be dangerous to go out and get you in this weather, but the thought of leaving you out there- drunk and alone, that mere thought had guilt eating away at his chest. “Shoot, okay. I’m on my way.”
Grabbing the first hoodie he sees on the floor, he runs out of the door, not bothering to slip out of his pajamas. As he slams the door to his car and starts the engine, another flash of lightning illuminates the campus, casting an electric glow in front of him. A haunting tremor rips through him as the all too familiar scene unfolds in front of thim. This is for you, focus Jake.
He grips the wheel till his knuckles turn white, pulling out of the residential parking lot until he reaches the rain-soaked road, just 8 miles until he’d reach you.
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Miles away from where Jake’s car is likely struggling through the storm, you lie nestled in Heeseung’s arm, his steady warmth a stark contrast to the violence of the world outside. The faint glow of your phone illuminates your face in the darkness of Heeseung’s dorm room, casting shadows on Heeseung’s gaze as he studies you intently, a glint of pride mingled with something far darker.
“You did so well, my sweet vixen.” He murmurs, his voice dripping with a seductive danger. His lips graze the side of your head as he places a chaste kiss to the side of your head, but it's charged with an intense desire. He lifts his head to gaze out of his window, watching the storm rage on with a deeply satisfied expression, his hand trailing down your arm to trace slow and deliberate patterns along your bare arm.
The storm outside has grown merciless now, lightning ripping across the sky with a savage frequency. You watch as the harsh light outlines Heeseung’s sharp features, presenting his expression to you in an almost otherworldly glow. You bite your lip, a conflicting storm brewing in your chest as you dwell upon the twisted satisfaction in knowing your vengeance is shared with Jake now, but also the guilt that tears at your resolve knowing you’ve put your best friend in utter danger.
As your mind starts to waver, Heeseung flickers his gaze downward in time to catch your doubt, his thumb tracing along your cheek in order to ground you. “Don’t think about it,” he whispers, his voice soft though commanding, “This is what he deserved, for ruining Alice. For ruining you.”
His words cut through you like a blade, a bitter reminder of why you’re here- why you even exist. You were never meant to be anything more than an instrument for a dead girl’s revenge, forged by the sins of Jake who let his forbidden love blind him from his duties. His desperate selfishness was your reason for existence, and it made you feel like a curse.
An anger ripples through you as you remind yourself that your fate was decided long before you were even born, but you tell yourself that being bound to Heeseung through a shared destiny that could only be fulfilled by Jake’s death would give you that liberation you so desperately needed. Even though your immortality would be granted in the form of becoming devils, you knew that you’d finally be free. Released from this tornado of a mess you didn’t sign up for.
Heeseung’s grip tightens around your wrist, pulling you in closer. His gaze sears into you as though he can see every doubt crossing your mind. “Stop thinking about him, stop thinking about the stupid deal. Just look at me.” The roughness in his voice forces your gaze on his and you note a darkness clouding his vision as he speaks. “We are meant to be together, no matter what happens- so stop thinking about everything.”
This would all be over soon. In the blink of an eye, you and Heeseung would grow horns and descend from the mortal world, bound by the blood of an angel, forever entwined in a twisted act of vengeance.
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It’s only a few hours later when you receive a call from an unknown number, pulling you away from Heeseung’s warm embrace. “Hello?”
“Hi, is this Y/n L/n?” A voice asks from the speaker's phone.
“Speaking.”
You look to Heeseung and place the phone on speaker, putting the device between you two. “You were listed as the first emergency contact for Sim Jaeyun. We regret to inform you that he passed away in a fatal car accident on road 29 about two hours ago.”
The voice continues to drone on about legalities and visiting hours in the morgue, but you don’t listen. The voice on the phone pales in comparison to the sound of your now throbbing heartbeat as you fixate your gaze on the linen bed sheets of Heeseung’s pathetically made dorm bed, waiting for the call to hang up. When it does, Heeseung draws his fingers under your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/n…”
You look at his eyes in search of something- anything. You didn’t know what you wanted to find- relief, empathy, satisfaction, regret even? But his face is unreadable as he stares back at you. “Heeseung…” you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes.
“I know, it’ll be okay.” He says, pulling you into a tight hug. “He was my best friend too.” He tells you, more to himself than you. His voice feels empty, barely audible as he recalls the memories he shared with Jake from another lifetime- one that was filled with laughter and promises that they had long since broken.
You cling onto Heeseung, pressing yourself closer in a desperate attempt for comfort as a massive wave of guilt washes over you, and for a second you feel like you made the wrong choice. Jake was your best friend, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if this line with Heeseung was something you shouldn’t have crossed. Your friendship with Jake was indescribable, he was your home- and it felt wrong for you to be in a world without him.
But as your heart continues to ache for Jake, your grief quickly begins to shift into something much colder. Anger begins to simmer just below the surface, violently shaking your insides to the point you almost feel nauseous. The memory of what Jake did- how he shattered your life- Alice’s life. The way he drove you to kill yourself, to give up on what you loved the most. Any sorrow you ever felt for him, any bond you ever shared- it dimmed with every beat of your heart until there was nothing left.
Heeseung pulls away from you just enough for him to look into your eyes. His irises search your own, to see whether or not your heart was matching his- and when he finds his answer, he smirks. “Do you feel it?” he whispers, “It’s starting, Alice.”
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cassieopeauh ¡ 7 months ago
Text
What is this feeling?
Pairings: Elphaba x Reader x Galinda
Summary: You are in love with the two most well known girls at Shizz. They both love you, but loathe each other and loathe that the other loves you. They try to steal you from each other and win you over. Intercourse is had. Feelings are hurt. Everything works out in the end.
Word count: 5100
Warnings: SMUT⚠️, like so so so much smut ya’ll. Porn with some plot. Eating out. Fingering. Thigh riding. Grinding. Slight dry humping. Bra used as gag. Semi public sex. Y/n is lowkey a bop. Brief dom/sub dynamics (the roles are reversed a few times cause y/n is written as a switch) brief hate sex. Angst. Feelings are hurt. Apologies are said. Based off movie knowledge only. They all make up and get together in the end. I think that’s everything.
A/n: Galinda and Elphaba are probably a bit ooc in this srry. I’ve only watched the movie but have been listening to the musical soundtrack for years. Plz don’t roast me if I got some of the stuff about shizz wrong 😢.
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“What is this feeling so sudden and new?” Galinda whispers to herself as she watches you below from her shared dormitory balcony.
She shifts her body so her head lays upon her arms which lay atop the stone wall surrounding the balcony, as she dramatically sighs and continues to dreamily look at you from above.
Her usually confident and cocky persona felt like it crumbled to pieces whenever she was around you, leaving her uncharacteristically awkward and nervous. Vulnerable. Thus, to her, confessing to you seemed out of the question.
She had tried to wish away these pesky feelings, but to no avail. She had fallen hard.
She watched as you walked over and struck up a conversation with her irritating roommate. Oz, you were so much more kind than her. You had been going out of your way for the last week to befriend the girl because you saw the unjust treatment of her and knew it was undeserved. The same girl that has been nothing but a thorn in her side since they were unfairly roomed together.
Meticulously manicured nails scraped against the concrete beneath her grasp in deep jealousy, as she watched you and Elphaba’s conversation become a bit “too friendly” for her liking. She felt like she was going to scream if this kept up!
“It’s not fair! I am ten times more perfect in every way than that little goth prude! Why does she get first dibs on everything I deserve?” She said aloud to no one. Theatrically slumping down behind the balcony wall and draping her arm over her face.
If overcoming her fears of confessing to be with the one person who had made her feel a true connection with meant keeping her little rival from having what she wanted…
She made up mind right then. She was going to push aside her fears, put on a confident mask, and use her natural charm to snatch you away from Elphaba.
——————————————————————————————————————————————————————
“I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you.” Elphaba was never one to want much, never one to think herself attractive or desirable from the perspective of others, but you had brought out a part of herself she thought she had buried along with all her other wishes.
You were both still new to each other only having been friends for a few weeks, but Elphaba now having understood her feelings saw no reason to wait any longer. Always one to never hold back when it came to speaking her mind, despite fear of rejection, she asked you to accompany her to a secluded part of Shizz so she could communicate her feelings to you.
“I don’t know what to say…” you replied.
It wasn’t that you weren’t overcome with a sense of giddiness whenever you were around her. It was that while having feelings for Elphaba, you had also been harboring the same kind of feelings for your other gorgeous friend Galinda.
You were also well aware of your two love interests' rivalry, knowing no that if you were to start a relationship with Elphaba, the pink obsessed blonde would take it as an act of betrayal.
But at the same time you couldn’t bare to turn down Elphaba, with how much you liked her and knowing her deeply rooted insecurities and how much she must have overcome just to confess to you.
You were fucked either way.
“I… I need time to think… please don’t take it the wrong way, I like you! I do..I just… it’s complicated.” Your heart withered at the sight of Elphaba in front of you putting on a brave face and masking her disappointment. Concealing her feelings and pretending she doesn’t care what people thought of her was her specialty.
“I… understand…….I think it’s best I go now.” Elphaba cast her head downwards as she didn’t want you or anyone to catch a glimpse of the newly forming barley concealed tears. She was so stupid to think you could reciprocate her feelings.
“Elphaba wait!” You called after her, but she carried on striding away from you. What could you say to her anyways? Nothing you could say could soothe the black hair girl’s pain of rejection. It wasn’t even a full rejection! Oh Oz why did you say that! Why does liking more than one person have to be so complicated!
Little had you known a certain blonde haired socialite had followed behind you and Elphaba after overhearing the ravenette asking you to follow her somewhere more private. That same girl had eavesdropped on conversation from behind a stone pillar a safe distance away.
She was now more determined than ever to win you over in light of her now confirmed suspicions of Elphaba having a crush on you as well.
Her heart initially felt like it had broken upon hearing you say you liked her back, and then mended itself at hearing you half reject her. Giving her hope for a chance. She was usually so confident, knowing what she wanted and taking it. That half a second of heartbreak and vulnerability was enough to let her know not having you was simply not an option.
——————————————————————
“What is this? What did you do!” Elphaba’s morning routine was immediately halted as she stepped out of bed at the sight of a wall of pink decor, suitcases, lamps, bags, etc.
“Oh that? I’m simply making room. I’m having y/n over for a girls day after our plans for today. Oh and of course I had to hide your hideously plain side of the room.” Galinda hadn’t even bothered to raise her head to look in her roommates direction as she spoke to her. To busy going through the steps of her complex morning hair routine.
“What? Why would y/n be coming over here? You’re much too stuck up for her to willingly be around.” Elphaba said. Annoyance clear in her voice. The mention of you had caught her off guard though, especially since the two of you hadn’t talked since that mortifying confession.
“I’ll have you know y/n and I are actually friends. And I’m not stuck up, you only happen to think so because you’re the bottom rung of the popularity ladder! You’re simply jealous of the fact y/n would rather be friends with someone perfect like me!!” Elphaba didn’t need to see her face as she could practically hear the girl's smug look in her voice.
Elphaba felt that familiar tingling sensation of the magic building up inside her at Galinda’s harsh words. Words that were unusually cruel for the girl who claimed to be ‘oh so good’. Words born out jealousy and insecurity for the affections she held for y/n.
Just as Elphaba felt like a burst of magic might leave her and crack a second balcony window, a set of four knocks came from the dorm door with the many carved details and brass trim.
A glance between them. One of masked anger and one of feigned innocence with a smugness behind it. Galinda got up to open the door.
“Y/n hiiiii!!!! I’m ever so glad you could make it! Let me show you in!” The blonde took you by the hand and brought you in, closing the door behind her.
“Oh and I don’t believe you’ve met my roommate! This is Elph-“ She started with faux politeness. An attempt at making things more awkward between the two girls in front of her and then whisking you away infront of her rival in a show of pettiness.
“Oh, we’ve met…” You trailed off. Sheepishly avoiding the ravenette’s gaze.
“Yes… we have…” Elphaba suddenly felt very exposed, awkwardly standing. The floor had suddenly become very interesting.
“Oh well I’m so glad that my very best friend and my roomate already know each other! Well, we better be going now, come along now sweetness!” Galinda threw a not so inconspicuous wink your way, much to the bewilderment and then jealousy of Elphaba, still stood in her nightgown.
“Oh! Uh…Alright! Coming!” You were thrown off balance by the sudden use of a pet name only to come to and scamper after the pink figure fading down the hall. Not before casting one last longing glance at Elphaba. Both of you shared a look before you too disappeared down the hallway.
As Elphaba closed the door shut the sound of a window pane breaking shot through the silence you left her in. A magical manifestation of her jealousy and sadness.
——————————————————————
*Thud*
Galinda, empowered by her regained confidence, pinned you up against the empty classroom door. Both her hand on your waist as she looked down at you with blown out pupils and unsteady breath.
“Oh… y/n, I know this must be a sudden shock but I positively just couldn’t resist anymore!” She rubbed her thumb across you hip where her hand laid as her eyes flickered between you eyes and your lips. You stayed frozen between want for the girl in front of you and want for the girl you had left in her dorm.
“I do wish you feel the same… I haven’t felt like this about anyone… a few flings here and there, yes… but I really care for you… I… feel vulnerable.. around you.” You could see the sincerity in her eyes as Galinda watched for you with baited breath.
“I… I feel the same way, b-“ Galinda cut you off with a hungry kiss, her brain only having registered your words of reciprocated feelings
Your brain suddenly feeling like mush in the midst of Galinda’s onslaught of heavy open mouthed kisses. Your hands wandered up to grasp the back of her head, tangling in her golden curls. You completely forgot what you were even going to say.
The taste of her lip gloss mixing with your own, while Galinda nipped at your bottom lip. Per usual, Galinda got her way, as you opened your mouth for her to explore. Galinda wasted no time.
The two of you parted momentarily. A string of saliva connecting your mouths, both of you panting, before the blonde dove right back in. Simultaneously lifting her leg slightly so her knee was wedged up against your core. You made a noise that was instantly swallowed up by the girl pinning you to the door.
“Is this okay?” She asked, seemingly just now remembering her manners.
“Yes… please don’t stop.” The blonde went back for another kiss before her mouth started traveling along your jawline and then to your neck. Your head turned sideways and up to give her better access. You had lightly started to grind down on her leg that was in between yours.
Galinda had started to hastily mark you, not caring if anyone saw it on you. (Maybe hoping a certain someone would see it). As she worked her way down to your clavicle her hand started to unbutton your shirt. Helping her shed your outer clothes and being left in your bra, she took a moment to admire you.
“You’re beautiful..” She said as she unashamedly raked her eyes up your exposed skin up towards your face. Giving you a gentle kiss this time. Your hands cupping her face, while her hands reached around your back to unclasp your bra, dropping it to the floor.
Hands began to grasp and fervently pull at your breasts as the intensity of the kiss came back once more. All noises being lost to the blonde in front of you.
Some of the fog left your mind as the sounds of someone walking outside the door and down the hall brought you back to reality.
“Wait.. *pant* someone might come in..” A slight look of fear graced your features. Surely you would be expelled for this kind of behavior.
Galinda only smirked in reply. She held you face with one hand, flicking the deadbolt on the door with the other.
“Guess we’ll just have to be quiet then” Pulling you from the door to the mahogany teachers desk in the center of the room.
She hopped up on the desk and slightly leaned back. Patting her thigh while looking at you expectantly, you complied. Climbing up and straddling her thigh you couldn’t help but wish Galinda was a little more exposed, like you were.
Settling down with your clothed core pressed against her thigh, you gave just the slightest of pouts as you reached up and gently tugged at her top while locking eyes with her.
She let out a breath chuckle.
“Oh baby… you want this off?” She watched as you nodded and then guided your hands to unbutton her blouse and revealed her bra underneath.
Your eyes hungrily swept over pink silk that barely concealed hard nipples. Your hot breath fanning down on her now mostly exposed chest. Once again taking the lead, she guided your hands to her back, where you unclasped her bra. Tossing it aside.
“Wow…” was all you managed to get out, making her lightly giggle. You looked at her, and after receiving a small nod, you experimentally ran your hands over her breasts. Thumbs stopping over her nipping and gently rubbing.
She let out a quiet moan which encouraged you to continue. Her noises slowly building up in their frequency. She then took control again by leaning forward and capturing you in a kiss and bringing your hand to her face.
“Let’s get you out of this skirt…” she smiled at you. You stood up, putting on a little show for her, as you removed your skirt, undergarments, and shoes. Giving her a little spin and then climbing back to your original position.
“There we are… now.. take what you need sweetness.” Her words commanded you to start slowly grinding your now unclothed core against her thigh. Her hands went to guide you by your waist, as you held onto her shoulders for support.
“Oh…Oh my..” your breathing picked up as Galinda urged you into a faster pace. Moving her hips back and forth to meet you halfway. Her leg by now being soaked in your arousal.
“Oh.. that’s right sweetheart…keep going..” Galinda praised you as you grinded down harder. Clit dragging across milky white thighs. That feeling of heat starting to build up more and more in your lower area.
Panting now, as your noises started to grow, Galinda connected your mouth to keep the noise to a minimum so no one would hear. Your little whines and moans being muffled by pink lips.
What felt like too soon, you had started to get close. The pink clad girl could tell by the way your hips started stuttering in their pace.
“Come on sweetness… come for me..” Galinda panted, getting worked up just from the sight of you getting off on her thigh.
Her words seemed to help push you over the edge, as you came. A loud whine escaping your lips. Riding out your orgasm for a few seconds before slumping into Galinda. Both your bare breasts pushed against each other. Your head resting on her shoulder, while her fingers rubbed up your back and in your hair and gave tiny little kisses to your neck.
“You did so well… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like that.” The blonde whispered in your ear, causing good bumps to appear along your nape in her wake.
“I’ve wanted you for a long time as well…” you said while catching your breath.
You stayed in that position of embrace. Waiting for you to recover from your exertion.
After a minute, you started to feel Galinda squirming a bit below you. You sat back so you could look at her.
“Do you want me to..?” You said.
“Please.” She replied.
You slowly peeled yourself away from her and slightly sat back. Hands resting on her thighs, feeling the slick from where you were a minute ago.
You tugged at her last remaining garments, as she helped by maneuvering herself in order to remove her skirt and underwear. Eyes raking over her. Taking in every aspect.
Leaning in and giving her a quick peck on the lips before trailing kisses down her neck. Then to her sternum. Next, her navel. Then finally reaching the place where she needed you most, you glanced up to her eyes once more before shifting your mouth forwards.
She let out a breathy moan as your tongue made contact with her slick. You took a couple of long licks before focusing on her clit. She tasted sweet. Your hands found their places around her upper thighs
Your movements continued to coax airy whines and moans from her. These only spurred you on more. Now deciding to add one finger in the mix, you experimentally poked your right ring finger at her entrance. That elicited a slightly louder moan. Heat pooled in your stomach at that.
You slowly started pumping your one finger in and out of her core while still continuing to lick at her clit. Galinda’s hands were suddenly in your hair, pushing you further into her and groaning.
Deciding to add another finger, you slipped a second one into your rhythm. Stretching her out further. After a particularly loud moan though, you stopped your movements which in turn brought out a whine and a pout from Galdinda.
“Why… *pant* why’d you stop?” She questioned. Not a fan of being teased. You brought your head up to meet her gaze.
“I’m sorry, you were being a bit too loud. Someone might hear us. Here… this should solve the problem.” You took hold of her previously discarded silk bra and brought it up to her face.
“Are you okay with this..? Being.. um… gagged I mean..?” Galinda’s pout was replaced by a smirk and a little laugh at your sudden shyness. She thought it was adorable.
“Of course, now I can be as loud as I want. To show you how you make me feel.” She grinned and took hold of the bra you held out to her. Clamping her teeth around it and leaning back to give you access once more.
You returned to your previous position and activities. Speeding up to get her back to where she was. You heard her muffled noises, much more frequent and high pitched. It was clear she had been holding back a bit before as to not be heard and subsequently caught.
Her hand returned to the back of your head as she grinded her hips against you. Getting closer, her grip tightened and her hips started to fervently rut and buck up into you.
With one last drawn out muffled whine from her, you felt her come on your hand. Feeling her walls flutter around your fingers, you helped her ride it out before pulling away. Crawling up to her once more, you sucked her juices off your fingers before pulling the bra out of her mouth to bring her into an embrace as she had done for you. Letting her rest.
Once she had recovered, she leant back to pull you into another kiss. This one was slow and full of love. Parting to breathe you both only paused for a second before going back in for another.
No words needed. Only the moment.
——————————————————————
A set of four knocks sounded on the intricate door.
“Galinda’s not here!” Elphaba called out to who she assumed was one of her roommate's little henchmen. Galinda had left for the afternoon to meet a secret importer for a new collection of dresses she was sneaking into Shizz.
When the set of knocks continued after Elphaba had called out, she sat up from her study material, and strode over to the door to open it.
“I told you she’s not he-…” Elphaba was greeted with the sight of your face. Holding a small sheepish smile.
“Hi… I was hoping we could talk?” You looked up at her through your lashes with baited breath. Hoping you hadn’t ruined things with her.
“I thought you’d be out with Galinda. Seems you two are never apart these days.” She replied with a displeased look on her face. She was no fool. She knew there was likely something going on between her roommate and you.
It was true though. Galinda had insisted you stayed glued to her side since your “girls day out”. Practically dragging you along on a leash. Not that you minded being around her all the time, but it left you no time to resolve things between you and Elphaba.
“I… I wanted to come and apologize for not speaking to you since… last week.” You guiltily looked away. You had been rather horrible to her for not speaking to her. And sleeping with her roommate who she loathed.
“Go on.” Elphaba crossed her arms. Giving you a blank face.
“Well… I’m ever so sorry for not talking to you. I like you, I really do! It’s just… I also like someone else and if I were to be with you it would hurt them. Though I see that the opposite has happened and I’ve hurt you instead.” You tried to keep your composure while you apologized, but it was clear that your eyes were becoming watery.
“Galinda…” Elphaba stated what was already known. The sound of defeat in her voice. Her posture sulked downward.
Your eyes widened as you took a few steps toward her.
“Oh no! Please you must believe me that I never wished to hurt you! I just-… I want to be with both of you! But I know that’s not possible because you two hate each other and I wish her friends weren’t so cruel to you and it’s all so complicat-!” You were cut off by green lips silencing your rambling.
She pulled back. Tears in her eyes as you looked on with shock on your face.
“Please, I’ve never been one to want anything. I shouldn’t let myself want anything. But I just want you. You hurt me, I can’t forget that, but I can’t stand that she has you. Please just be with me… even if it’s just for this moment…” Her words were heartbreaking. She had endured more than her fair share. Given so much, yet received so little.
“Anything you want…” You gently reached up and caressed her face. Leaning in and connecting your lips and a soft and tender kiss. Tasting salty tears from where they had fallen from her emerald eyes.
Growing more confident, Elphaba brought you both inside the dorm and shut the door with one hand. All while never leaving your mouth.
What started out as slow and emotional had started to become more passionate. Hands sliding up to tangle in hair. Being pulled closer by the waist.
Your hand moving down to tug at her button up.
“Would you let me take care of you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. Waiting for permission.
“I’ve.. I’ve never…because of my greenness… no one’s ever…” Elphaba nervously sputtered out.
“That’s alright… if you want me to, I can lead. All you have to do is let me take care of you. You deserve it Elphie…” You said as you looked into her eyes.
“Okay… please just know… I am green everywhere…” She looked so vulnerable at that moment. Fear of rejection due to her complexion having been hardwired into her brain.
“I don’t care about that, Elphie. I think you’re truly beautiful. All over, inside and out.” You said with a smile of reassurance. And with a small smile and nod in return, you went ahead.
Careful fingers danced their way from one button to the next before pulling the white shirt over her shoulders and down her arms.
She gasped at the foreign sensation of fingers ghosting over her black bra covered nipples. Hands coming to rest on your waist.
“Let’s get you somewhere where you can relax, pretty lady.” You giggled slightly at the evident blushing at your use of a pet name. Guiding her over to her bed. Laying her down on her back with you sitting in between her legs.
“What now?” Elphaba asked, not knowing what to do or what exactly came next.
“Next, I’m going to get you ready. And then I was going to use my hands. Are you okay with that Elphie?” You watched for her response. Making sure to give her plenty of warning and above all ensure her comfort and enjoyment and give her room to say no.
“I trust you…” Her eyes conveyed the same thing she said. Her hand reached for yours to hold.
A small smile graced your features as you leant forwards to kiss her. Hands dragging along exposed collarbones until they reached the bra clasp and undid it. Sliding it off through her arms.
Hands started to gently grope at her bare breasts as your hips slowly pushed forwards into Elphaba’s to add pressure.
“Mmff!” The girl below you’s moan was muffled by your mouth on hers. She held your waist. You started to slowly grind into her. The both of you getting worked up.
Continuing your movements while slightly changing the rhythm now and then. You watched as the girl beneath you slowly relaxed.
When you thought you had made her wet enough, your grinding ceased and you moved over to straddle one of legs to make room around her core.
Breaking apart while one of your hands trailed up underneath the girl's long skirt. You once again made sure.
“Is this okay?” The words felt familiar to your ears..
“Please.” So did hers.
Reaching her undergarments, you felt around to find the seam. Your fingers finally finding purchase around them as you pulled them down and over her legs. Watching the string of arousal that attached to it as you tossed them aside.
“You’re so wet… that’s good.” Looking up to meet her blown out pupils.
You moved so you were laying over top of her while keeping your hand around her core so you could make out with her to ease the tension.
Your middle and ring finger trailed up and down her slit. Collecting the slick and rubbing it around on your fingers.
Next, you gave her clit a gentle rub, eliciting a whine from the ravenette. You continued to rub and then press down with your thumb, while your other fingers circled around her entrance.
Finally, you stuck a single finger into her. Her body reacted by bucking up. You were getting riled up just watching her.
“Nngg, t-that’s, so so good.” Elphaba’s usually reserved nature was coming undone.
You added another finger and sped up the pace. Thrusting them up into her while letting the back of your palm rub her clit.
“Good girl… that’s it.” You praised her. Elphaba’s noises were becoming more frequent. You could tell she was getting closer by the way her walls were gripping your fingers, trying to suck them back in.
Speeding up your movements and then latching onto one of her nipples was enough for the witch to climax.
Her loud moan came with the fluttering of her walls. Suddenly, for just a few seconds, the both of you were floating, before gently landing back down on the mattress. She had unknowingly used her magic.
Her pants slowly subsided. After pulling your hand away and licking it clean, you trailed kisses from her chest to her face, where you peppered light kisses around her mouth.
“You did so well… you’re so beautiful Elphie…” you whispered into her ear. Rubbing her shoulder then going to nuzzle into her neck.
Elphaba, still coming down from her high, wrapped her arms around your back, and planted a kiss on your head.
“Do… would you like.. a turn..?” She slowly said, unsure of her words.
“No, but thank you for offering, sweet girl.” She could feel you smile into her neck.
“I just wanted to show you how much I care for you. You don’t have to give anything. You deserve all the pampering in the world.” Your genuine words brought liquid emotion to the girl with the emerald eyes.
She pulled you closer. No more words needed. Just the moment.
——————————————————————
You were screwed.
In the last few weeks, the two girls you had slept with rivalry had only grown since you had seen both of them. Both of them going out of their way to try and best the other to get closer to you.
They openly loathed each other, no more fake politeness or toleration. Simple unadulterated loathing.
Galinda would sweep you away from Elphaba to sit with her and her friends at lunch. Then Elphaba would retaliate by making sure you sat next to only her during class.
All the back and forth and the complicated feelings was making your head spin.
Currently you were on your way to the two girls' dorm to return study notes Elphaba and graciously lent you.
As you approached the wooden door, knocked, then opened it halfway, you stopped. What were those… noises… you were hearing? They sounded… angry? But also…… oh. Oh.
You pushed the door open the rest of the way and froze.
Galinda and Elphaba. The two girls who swore loathed each other. We’re in bed together. Naked.
Phrases like, “I hate you so much, ohhh!” And “I hate you m-more, she doesn’t *pant* deserve you. Ahh!”.
…
What the fu-
*thud*
Out of shock, you had dropped the heavy notebook you were carrying. Both girls let out a little shriek and sprung apart as though they had burned one another.
“Um… i-I…. Uhhhhh…. Glad you two aren’t fighting anymore……???” You nervously stated. Feeling very awkward at interrupting what was happening between them. Though at the same time ecstatic that they were finally getting along in their own weird way.
“Y/n!” Both of them said at the same time. They glanced at each other and then back to you. Your cheeks flushed and eyes looking anywhere but them. Everything was quiet and still.
….
“Well…. You might as well get over here and help.” Galinda’s unwavering confidence had come back into play as scootched over and patted the empty bed space next to her.
“G-Galinda!” Elphaba stated in shock at her roommates sexual confidence in adding a third.
Both looked at you and waited for a response.
“Uhm…. O.. okay” You replied quietly, still embarrassed.
You closed the door and walked over Galinda’s king sized bed.
You let out a help as Galinda yanked you into bed and into a fiery kiss. Her giggles reverberated through the room. Elphaba laying beside you so she could trail kisses along your neck.
Your head was reeling under the sensual onslaught from the two girls.
This was exactly what you wanted. Your girl problem dilemma was over. They both liked you, you liked them, and now they liked each other. This could really work out.
Your heart's deepest desire was fulfilled .
718 notes ¡ View notes
pshaven ¡ 2 years ago
Text
BREAK THE SKIN ౨ৎ
⤡ brought to you by @rkvriki & @pshaven !
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SYNOPSIS ! between a roommate, a class partner, an ex, and a best friend, you accidentally find yourself tangled up in their sheets. (MDNI !!! NSFW WARNING)
FEATURING ! heeseung x fem!reader, jake x fem!reader, sunghoon x fem!reader, jay x fem!reader
TAGLIST IS OPEN! send an ask to be added
୨୧
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APPLE CIDER ౨ৎ lee heeseung – by @pshaven
synopsis! your new roommate, heeseung, seems to underestimate just how naive you really are when you catch him in a compromising situation.
wc! 5k
cw! perv!hee, switch!heeseung & switch!reader but make it competitive, voyeurism(??), size kink if u squint, male masturbation, degradation, praising, oral (m!receiving), grinding, riding, no protection (Plz wrap it), hee a FREAAKKK, creampie, unspoken aftercare but like barely??, hee calls reader baby, good girl, slut, i think that's it lmk if i missed any!
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GOT ME THINKING NONSENSE ౨ৎ sim jaeyun – by @rkvriki
synopsis! you get paired up with jake, your sweet classmate who’s always willing to help you, but while you’re both working, he seems to be the one needing help.
wc! 5.1k+
cw! porn with barely no plot unprotected sex (wrap it up yall!!), SUB!JAKE, dom!reader obvi, oral (m! receiving), jake is whiny and reader is just a tad bit mean, unexpirienced but not virgin jake, had huge writers block in the beggining pls spare me 😣
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NUDES I CAN'T SEND ౨ৎ park sunghoon – by @pshaven
synopsis! after a drunken night of events you can’t remember, you find a park sunghoon at your front door with apologies you thought you’d never hear.
wc! 6.4k+
cw! angst (sawry..), toxic!sunghoon kinda, ex!sunghoon, jealous/possessive!heeseung makes an appearance, reader sent nudes while drunk, dom!sunghoon, he's handsy, dirty talk, pnv, oral (f!receiving), riding, no protection mentioned, sunghoon calls reader baby, sweet girl, multiple orgasms, not really much aftercare mentioned, ningning from aespa mentioned
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SCENT OF YOUR COLOGNE ౨ৎ park jongseong – by @rkvriki
synopsis! jay has been your best friend since you could remember, he’s used to seeing boys come in and out of your life but never once he thought he could be one of them.
wc! x
cw! x
3K notes ¡ View notes
shy-writer-999 ¡ 11 months ago
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Embarrassing Confessions: Zoro is a virgin and he's insecure (Part 1)
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Warnings: MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS DNI. THIS IS NSFW CONTENT.
Author’s note: Part One is tame angst and pure plot (no smut), ~5,400 words. Part Two will have all the smut, so stick around for that. I have a fascination with the idea of Zoro pining over you in secret and getting flustered and embarrassed about it. In this fic, Zoro’s ego gets bruised and you comfort him. You both get drunk and Zoro runs his mouth too much. It’s a slow burn like my last fic and will also end with smut (◡‿◡✿) Plz note that the reader is sort of giving OC, she (you) gives a brief description of ‘losing’ her virginity to some guy from ‘back home’.
TW: Alcohol abuse – Zoro blacks out; also if you have emetophobia maybe skip this one? There's a brief nod to the usual hangover symptoms.
Embarrassing Confessions: Zoro is a virgin and he's insecure (Part 1)
Word on the ship was that Zoro was still a virgin. It had slipped out somehow, maybe in a game of spin the bottle or never-have-I-ever. But you learned about it secondhand when Sanji made fun of him for it, right in Zoro's face. Sanji said something crude, along the lines of "Zoro's just mad because his virgin ass has never gotten his dick wet."
Zoro was immediately livid. His face turned red and he snapped back with "Shut up Sanji, you don't even know what the fuck you're talking about. Fuck you." Genuinely upset, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him. When Sanji and Zoro bickered it usually had an element of playfulness, casualness, genuine annoyance, yes, but... you weren't sure that Sanji had said anything this cruel and embarrassing before, outing something that Zoro was, obviously, uncomfortable with and most likely embarrassed by.
You were surprised, both by Zoro’s reaction and the simple fact itself. You had always assumed that Zoro got action wherever he went, I mean, look at him. To think that he had never felt the touch of a woman… you honestly couldn’t wrap your head around it. And you felt like a creep because you were intrigued by it. Truthfully, your intrigue was not arousal but rather an earnest desire to learn more about this man who you had been developing feelings for, for months.
The only person who knew about your feelings was Nami. As soon as Sanji made the remark and Zoro stormed out, you immediately looked at Nami, and she glanced at you at the same time. It was like you exchanged a thought or read each other’s minds, one of those unspoken moments with your best friend across the room. It was a “what the fuck?” moment, a split second, but you knew that Nami would want you to go after Zoro and try to comfort him somehow.
You loved Sanji like a brother, but sometimes he could be a real asshole. “Nice one, Sanji,” you said sardonically, dead-pan and annoyed. “I think that was over the line this time.” You stared him down coldly. He immediately jumped to self-defense, but you waved your hand and told him to “can it,” as you exited onto the deck to see if Zoro was doing okay. You had no idea what you would say to him to make him feel better and you were sure that anything you said would come off as corny and patronizing, but you were damned well going to try. After all, it seemed like no one on the ship could talk about these things with Zoro except for you. There was something about you that made him open up, show a softer side, share things that he would otherwise have kept to himself.
Zoro was nowhere to be seen on deck, so that left only one option. You climbed up to the crow’s nest where he was sitting, scowling, and looking out over the open ocean. He was clearly mulling over Sanji’s comment in his head, turning it over and examining it from different angles, sitting in the embarrassment and trying to figure out why he felt so much shame. He never had put much energy into women, had no urge to ‘lose’ his virginity, as if that was an actual object that one could lose (he scoffed at the thought).
For a long time, Zoro felt like he wasn’t missing out on anything—as far as women were concerned, he couldn’t be asked. But in the past few months he had been feeling differently, no thanks to you. That’s why when he saw you climb into the crow’s nest after suffering that embarrassment from Sanji, he muttered fuck to himself and scowled even harder.
“Spare me the embarrassment,” he grumbled, turning his face away from you. He was starting to blush, but you didn’t notice it.
“That got you pretty worked up, huh?” You sat down on the floor near to him, cocking your head so you could peer more into his face, inspecting his impression, which he obviously did not feel like sharing.
Your observation was met with a terse silence.
“Hey, Zoro?” You said softly. He turned to meet your eyes as your tone shifted and you were caught off guard by how vulnerable and tortured his expression was. “It’s not a big deal. No one on the crew cares or thinks any less of you. Sanji was just trying to get under your skin, he didn’t mean to be cruel or malicious. You know he loves you like a brother.”
Zoro sighed and rested his head in his hands. “I know. I don’t know why I let that jackass piss me off so much… I guess he struck a nerve. I- I’ve been feeling… I don’t fucking know. I guess I’ve been feeling kind of... self-conscious about it, recently…” He trailed off. You were shocked by his candor. You were used to him being honest and more vulnerable with you, but this was more than you had been expecting. He was truly opening up to you. You had never seen him show an ounce of self-doubt or insecurity before.
“Yeah?” You prompted, feeling like he had more that he wanted to say. He turned to you again.
“I never really gave a shit about this kind of stuff before, y’know? I’ve got other stuff to keep me busy. But… recently… I don’t know.” He sighed.
You nodded in response. Zoro was a man of few words when it came to emotional vulnerability, and you could tell that the conversation was coming to a close.
“Well, Zoro, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. I was kind of a late bloomer so… I get it.” You looked at him carefully. “Let’s grab a drink later, ‘kay?” He nodded, and that was it.
You didn’t know that you were the main reason Zoro had been reflecting on being a ‘virgin’ (he hated that word). Talking to you about it made him feel some sort of way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something inside of him twisted a little bit when you had looked into his eyes so seriously and with so much care. He tried to shrug it off and went back to cursing Sanji in his head, avoiding the actual dilemma he was facing, choosing escapism and mentally berating Sanji instead.
---
That night, you and Zoro cracked open a few bottles of sake, as promised. You had done this countless times in the past and nothing weird or unexpected happened except a few lingering glances that you both played off. But tonight it seemed like Zoro was drinking more than usual. You got the impression that he was drinking away his sorrows or drinking to forget about how genuinely upset he had been earlier in the day.
You were matching his drinks, as you sometimes did, just for fun. It felt like a kind of silly competition between you two sometimes. But keeping up tonight was hard, you were already getting a stomachache and could feel the dehydration creeping in… you knew the hangover was going to be a monster.
When he got drunk drunk, Zoro could become callous, rude, sarcastic, kind of an ass. He never really sent that in your direction, it was frequently towards Sanji, sometimes Usopp, Luffy, even Nami, if he really was going crazy. It was your least favorite characteristic about him; it was concerning, and it was a huge turn-off. But usually it wasn’t too bad, only mildly annoying. At worst, it gave you a sort of mini-ick.
Tonight was shaping up to be one of those nights, had it not taken an unexpected left turn. You and Zoro were the only crew members drinking, and everyone else was doing their own thing. It was dusk, warm outside, and the stars overhead were already breathtaking. You found yourselves back in the crow’s nest. This was honestly Zoro’s safe space—the isolation gave him peace of mind.
Zoro was laying on his side, with his head propped up on one arm, leisurely facing you. You had been bickering and talking over silly things for a couple hours at this point, like tidbits of sword-making history, or how much meat you’ve seen Luffy eat at once. After a lull in conversation, Zoro finally broached what had been on his mind all day, a nagging thought at the back of his head that he knew that he shouldn’t ask, but he grew bolder as he got drunker. And he was getting drunker.
“Hey, Y/N,” he began. “When did you lose your virginity?”
That was really out of the blue. You were shocked by the question, not expecting it at all. You two had never talked about anything like this. Oftentimes it was Sanji crossing the line and you telling him to fuck off. But for Zoro to go there…? Weird. He was presumably just wondering about it since you said you were a late bloomer too, and you guessed he must be seeking validation. After all, he was obviously embarrassed about the whole thing. A little reassurance and sincerity couldn’t hurt.
“Well, uh…” You hesitated. “I actually had sex for the first time a couple years ago.” That was enough of an answer, right? No point in oversharing.
“What was that like?” He got bolder, locking eyes with you. He was certainly drunk, and you were too. But beyond that, you felt the vibe shift and his eyes seemed more intense. Your voice got caught in your throat for a second. He probably was just seeking some reassurance, right? Everyone always talked about how they had a horrible first time, I’m sure he’s looking for more confirmation or something like that because he’s insecure… you said to yourself.
“Oh, uh… It wasn’t the best first time but also not the worst. It wasn’t as bad as everyone kind of makes their first time seem, if you know what I mean? It was with some guy from my hometown, we grew up together. Kind of like a childhood crush, boy-next-door type of vibe.”
Zoro felt a pang of jealousy. The alcohol pushed him deeper into a grave of embarrassment, rash behavior, and unspoken boundary breaking that he was about to start digging.
“Lucky guy.” He murmured, barely audible, as he shifted onto his back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the sky. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, now staring straight up. You could see him exhale, jaw clenching.
Wait, what did he just say? ‘Lucky guy’?
You had no idea how to respond to that. He seemed to be implying that the man you slept with was lucky. And why would that be?
An unsure “What?” escaped your lips. It was purely a reflex, you weren’t expecting a real answer, you figured he was going to laugh it off, you heard him wrong, something like that. This was like really out of character for him, at least in your experience. You had honestly wondered if he was asexual sometimes because he just never said stuff like this and had never talked about it to anyone on crew. To hear him ask about this sort of thing after all this time was surprising. Maybe there was a side to him that you never knew.
Without hesitation, Zoro responded immediately, doubling down. “I said, lucky guy.” He turned and looked at you. He wasn’t smiling, and his gaze was bold and almost piercing, so… it wasn’t a joke. Unless it was? If he was fucking with you then that would be weird as hell.
“Oh, uh… I guess he was lucky! Hahaha…” You tried to play it off with an awkward smile and half-hearted chuckle, hoping he didn’t notice that your face was bright red.
But Zoro kept going. “Were you surprised that I’m still a virgin?” You now realized he was faintly slurring his words. “I’m just curious.”
What was up with all these questions? You sighed. Well, whatever he wants to find out I guess he’ll find out. Looks like we’re playing 20 questions.
“Yeah, Zoro,” you responded. “To be honest, I was surprised.”
“Why?”  He asked forcefully, but this time he sat up from where he was laying and pulled himself a couple of feet in your direction. This would make him maybe a foot away from you, looking at you straight on. Your heart beat quickened.
Ok now this is getting weird. What is his angle? He must be feeling bad about the whole thing and now he’s fishing for compliments. With this conclusion, you rolled your eyes at him and exhaled. You could be playful with him now that you realized he just had a bruised ego, it wasn’t more serious than that. He was being a little pathetic, but that was all.
“Zoro, I’m surprised because you’re manly, strong, and attractive. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You kind of laughed.
And while you thought Zoro was fishing for compliments, you were wrong. He was finally asking you questions that had been burning in his mind for days. He sincerely wanted to know what you really thought of him, simple as that. And he was curious about your sexual life. He certainly was very drunk but even so, he still cringed as he asked each question. But fuck, he just had to know. He wanted to know so bad that he felt like he was suffocating. He had to have answers, but he was getting dizzy, his body felt heavy, all he knew was that he wanted to be closer to you.
He scooted closer again, so that your knees were touching. At this point your heart was beating out of your chest. His face was less than a foot away from yours. He may not have known, but you did have a painfully intense crush on him, and his closeness was having quite the effect on you. It was the same for him, too.
“Do you really mean that, or are you just saying it?” He slurred out again, stronger this time, leaning even closer. Your faces were maybe six inches away now. You were likewise feeling intoxicated, and it made time feel like it was slowing down, slogging along. Your intoxication was making you not only extremely thirsty (in both ways) but it was making you hyper aware and locked in to the blisteringly intense eye contact Zoro was holding with you, almost not blinking.
“I-I really mean it.” You squeaked out, almost as a whisper. Holy fuck, was he about to kiss you?
“Good.” He mumbled, and then he placed one of his huge hands on the cusp of your knee and thigh. He squeezed. You inhaled sharply. His eyes were still glued to yours. There’s no way he didn’t see your bashfulness. He started to lean in, maybe for a kiss, perhaps he was advancing with no goal other than to be closer to you.
Right when you felt like you were about to explode from the blood rushing to your face and your heart beating out of your chest, Zoro’s eyes closed and he abruptly collapsed forward into your lap, letting out what sounded like a groan and then… was that…. Snoring? It looked like the alcohol suddenly hit him like a truck all at once.
Sure enough, you leaned over him and saw that he was passed out on your lap, mossy hair ruffled, and his mouth open ever so slightly. He is prone to sleeping randomly, you shrugged, and God, he looks so good. He even smelled good.
You sat there until you calmed yourself down, feeling his heavy weight in your lap, the warmth of his skin pressing onto yours. He hadn’t let go of your thigh yet. You shook his shoulder lightly. It was time for the night to be over—he needed to get off you so that you could get him water, a pillow, and a blanket. He’d have to fall asleep up in the crow’s nest because there was no way you could pick him up or drag him downstairs.
“Hey, Zoro?” You said softly. “Zoro, you need to wake up a bit. You need to move so I can get you a pillow and blanket. It’s bedtime. Hey.” You shook him again and couldn’t help but notice the hard ripples of his muscles under his shirt. You paused for a moment and patted his head. “Zoro. Wake up.”
“Wha-what?” He groaned, raising his head ever so slightly.
“Zoro, I need to get up really quick. Lay down on your side for me, ok?
He groaned again, making your heart skip a beat. Fuck, that noise was hot. Sheesh.
Evidently a colossal effort, Zoro squeezed your thigh tightly one last time then raised himself just barely enough to collapse onto his side on the floor next to you. You peered at him for a second, thinking he was passed out again, making sure he was ok. As you rose to your feet and started to climb downstairs, he stirred.
“Baaaby,” he grunted out needily. “Are you coming back, baabbbyy? Don’t just leave me up here, Y/N.” You froze and looked at him. He was in the same position, with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. And yes, you had heard him right. Because he had said it damn loud. Holy shit, that made you feel some sort of way. But Zoro was so drunk at this point there’s no way he could have any control over his words. The lights were on but no one was home. He mumbled your name one more time.
“Zoro, I’ll be right back, I’m grabbing you a blanket and a pillow,” you quipped back, and he murmured something nonsensical while you started the quick descent to the deck.
It took you less than a minute to get him a blanket, a pillow, a glass of water, and a bucket, in case he threw up. You grabbed yourself a pillow and blanket, too. You couldn’t conscience letting him sleep up there by himself when he was so drunk. It took you a couple trips, but you managed to bring everything up to the crow’s nest. Zoro looked like he was proper passed out, so you spread the blanket over him and knelt by his head. Again, you shook his shoulder softly. “Zoro, lift your head up. I brought you a pillow.” He complied. He looked so sweet and soft. You wished you could kiss his cheeks a hundred times and run your fingers through his hair so badly.
You dragged your own blanket and pillow to the other side of the nook, giving him as much space as you could. Moments after you curled up and shut your eyes, Zoro stirred again, letting off another string of vaguely suggestive entreaties. “Y/N,” he murmured, “why’re you… all the way over there… you don’t wanna… w-wwanna sleep with me???”
This poor dude isn’t going to remember a thing tomorrow, you thought. In this moment you pitied him. You were sure he just wanted you to come cuddle with him, which was really sweet and all, but he was way too drunk right now to be touched with a ten-foot pole. And you already knew that if he remembered any of this tomorrow, he’d be too embarrassed to look you in the eye.
“Zoro, go to bed, sweetie, it’s getting late.” He did some more grumbling and nonsensical whining in response but soon he was out like a light, and you followed suit quickly.
---
Sure enough, Zoro woke up at sunrise feeling like absolute shit. He was hungover. Monstrously hungover. He couldn’t remember most of the tail end of last night and that made him uneasy, embarrassed at the thought that he could have said something out of pocket to you. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of drunkenly confessing his feelings. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to work the stiffness out of his neck, he realized that you were sleeping peacefully across from him. You must have brought out the pillows and blankets, the bucket and glass of water (which he promptly chugged). His heart twisted a bit when he realized how thoughtful and caring you had been towards him. Fuck.
You were breathing quietly, sleeping on your side facing him. Your hair was messed up, all flopped to one side, your face was soft and sweet. He just watched you sleep for a few minutes, realizing that he was being creepy as fuck but thinking he would not have the opportunity to sit and stare at you like this for a long time. He was taken with you. Anything that you felt even remotely insecure about, Zoro loved about you. On top of that, he thought you were ethereally beautiful; he would muse over how soft your skin must be, how good your hair must smell, how he hoped he’d be able to see the color of your eyes closer, how beautifully your lips turned up into a smile whenever you would see him. He wasn’t merely infatuated with your beauty—it was more than that. He admired you as a person, he thought you were brilliant, smart, and kind.
Fuck. He berated himself. You fucking idiot, what did you say to her?
He remembered asking you when you lost your virginity—or, er… did he ask you how you lost it? It was hazy. He certainly remembered throwing back the glasses of sake like they were water.
He blushed crimson immediately upon remembering that he made some comment like “lucky guy” or “lucky dude” while referring to the first man you had sex with. Fuck, that was embarrassing. And he had a feeling that he took it one step further than that, maybe he said or did something else… he wasn’t sure at that point. He hoped he hadn’t done anything that made you feel uncomfortable or unsafe.
Zoro rarely ever drank this much—he must have been feeling extra bothered and upset by Sanji’s comment about his virginity. Zoro knew that drinking was a horrible, horrible way of coping with his feelings. But sometimes he felt like he just wanted to self-sabotage or self-indulge in feeling like shit. And alcohol certainly made him feel like shit. But he had never drank this much when you were around.
Zoro wasn’t so sure how Drunk Zoro would handle your presence. He had a sinking feeling that he probably made himself look like an ass. Maybe he got way too loud, maybe he overstepped with his questions, maybe he came off as some huge, perverted creep trying to get a better picture about what it would be like to fuck you. He felt many, many pangs of regret and repulsion at himself. He was being hard on himself.
And while it definitely would have embarrassed him, and he would have felt more ashamed than he already did by knowing everything he said, he would have been surprised to know that the version of Drunk Zoro with only you around wanted nothing more than to be close with you—evidenced by the scooting closer, touching your thigh, staring deeply into your eyes, entreaties to sleep with (or was that by?) him. But he had no way of knowing what he did yet, because you were asleep, and he was prideful.
All this angsty reflection and regret was quickly interrupted by the hangover. He needed to do something about that. It was becoming a problem fast. He refused to make any sort of use out of that bucket while you were around. So, he swiped up the bucket, his empty glass, his pillow and blanket, and shuffled down the ladder steps.
---
When he was feeling less disgusting and had chugged a few more glasses of water, Zoro wondered what to do with himself. He would normally be up in the crow’s nest around this time of morning. And it didn’t escape him that you were going to be extremely hungover as well, especially because you had been matching his drinks for the most part (he could remember that) and you had way less of a tolerance than him.
He decided that he ought to bring up some water to you and hang out up there until you woke up. Maybe he’d be able to gauge how massively he fucked up by your expression or demeanor. Only one way to find out. Also, he’d take any opportunity and use any excuse to spend some peace and quiet with you. It was a treat that he rarely got.
He filled a big glass of water for you, and something struck him—what if he brought you up some fruit for breakfast? Would that be weird? He knew that you usually had fruit for breakfast, so… why not? He couldn’t think about it too much or else he’d clam up and get too shy. Fuck it, he told himself. Fruit it is. What’s an added benefit was that no one else was awake to tease him about bringing you breakfast or spending the night with you. So he took a couple of extra minutes to wash up and chop some fruit for you. He plated it as neatly as he could and grabbed a napkin as well. It was a simple but wholesome, caring gesture.
By the time Zoro was making his way back up to the crow’s nest, you had been awake for a minute or two. You were stretching as he climbed into the nook and your eyes met his with a sweet smile. “Good morning,” you chirped, feeling like shit from the hangover, but also tickled that you got to spend just a little bit more time with Zoro. You thought there was absolutely no way he remembered any of the advances or suggestive remarks from last night, and you wouldn’t hold any of it against him or treat him any differently for it. You were just happy to be hanging out with him, and the morning was beautiful. You felt no pressure or even desire to let him know everything that he said last night in the pits of drunken belligerence, and you didn’t plan on sharing unless he prompted.
“Hey,” he greeted you and placed the plate of fruit and glass of water next to you. “Here’s some breakfast. Figured it may get me even with you, since you took care of me last night. Sorry if I was an ass.”
Zoro was doing something as sweet as bringing you breakfast? You knew he had it in him. You always thought that there was some softness and sweetness to him, under those tough layers. Gosh, this was really nice of him.
“Thanks for bringing me fruit!” You responded. “You didn’t make an ass out of yourself, you were actually being really sweet,” you smiled again, and his heart skipped a beat. It felt like it twisted a little bit. Fuck, he had such a crush on you. He felt cringey and awkward when you were around sometimes, hyperaware of his every move, wondering how you felt about him. It was so easy for him to blush when you were around, too. He hoped every time that you couldn’t see it. He knew now that he must have been turning various shades of pink and red because he felt the hot blood rise to his face… and this time you did notice. His cheeks took on a pinkish flush, a shade that fitted him so well. God, he’s so cute, you thought to yourself. He was blushing so hard because you called him sweet.
“Oh, uh.. Sweet? What do you mean?” He acknowledged what you said out loud, putting out a sort of rhetorical question. How had he been sweet? Were you referring to the intrusive questions about your virginity, or did he do something else? What on earth could that mean?
You felt like teasing him a little bit with your answer—nothing too serious, since he seemed a little worried about it. “Yeah, you were sweet… you did call me baby a couple of times. It wasn’t too bad.”
Zoro turned crimson. He started to stutter out an apology— “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I-”
“Zoro,” you cut him off. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. You were super drunk.” He attempted to stutter out another apology and you waved your hand. “Don’t worry, seriously, it wasn’t creepy or anything, it was cute.”
Neither of you thought Zoro could blush any harder, but he did. Cute? He was getting so flustered. He took a beat before hoarsely choking out a response. He expected that he had been a bit weird but… calling you baby? Get a grip, man! He scolded himself. But if that was all… it could have been a lot worse.
“Aghhh… Did I do anything else humiliating?” He asked, shaking his head and covering his eyes with his hand, visibly cringing. He didn’t even think to ask what context he called you baby in. It didn’t matter. He had called you baby, and that was that.
“I wouldn’t say it was humiliating but when you were falling asleep you kind of like… asked me to get in bed with you? It wasn’t creepy though, I think you were chilly.”
Zoro’s jaw dropped. Oh my fucking god. Get in bed with her?! What the fuck? He reprimanded himself internally. This was so much worse than he could have imagined. “Look, I’m so, so sorry I… I don’t know what got into me. I’m sorry, I-”
“Zoro, don’t worry about it, seriously. It was endearing and I didn’t take it any sort of negative way.” You took note of how absolutely vivid red his cheeks were. His fists were clenched. Poor guy was obviously going through it.
Zoro was turning the words over in his mind again and again—sweet, cute, endearing. He had never received any of this sort of praise from you before and it made his stomach flip.
Suddenly a shrill voice cut through the air. “Y/N, MY DEAREST SWEET~~ WOULD YOU LIKE SOME COFFEE MY DARLING?” Sanji shouted up to you in the crow’s nest.
You smiled and rolled your eyes at Zoro, sort of mocking Sanji. “Let’s do this again soon, Zoro… silliness aside… I had a really nice time. You really were being sweet so don’t worry about it. I’m going to get some coffee and take a shower. Thanks for the fruit!” You gathered your fruit and glass and shouted back down at Sanji. “Coming!” You did one last pretty smile and wave and then descended below.
Zoro was still reeling from the revelations of his drunken antics. He could have jumped overboard right about now, had it not been for your repeated description of him as “sweet” and “cute.” Your words rang in his ears—“Let’s do this again soon, Zoro.”
So he had called you baby and tried to get you to sleep with him, but it had been sweet and cute? It didn’t really make sense to Zoro but something inside of him fluttered a little bit. You weren’t totally averse and disgusted towards him after last night, so… that was good, right?
Zoro was absolutely mind-fucked at the whole interaction. He was kicking himself in embarrassment, flustered, bright red, his heart was beating out of his chest, but he was also ecstatic because you said you wanted to spend more time with him again. He was completely ashamed but buzzing at the same time. He hadn’t felt like this in years and years, in fact, he wasn’t sure if he had ever been this worked up about a crush before.
Upon second thought, he realized that he did have a shadow of a memory of him calling you baby, along with a suggestion in his mind of the moment when he groaned your name and begged you to come to bed with him. He had wanted you to curl up next to him and sleep there, to be close with him, to feel your warmth, your skin, your heartbeat. He couldn’t believe that all of this started because Sanji’s asshole remark yesterday about his virginity. And there was that virginity and you, two things that were currently posing a problem for him. He could only let himself fantasize slightly about fucking you, but… he didn’t let himself get too carried away (yet).
Stay tuned for part two: Zoro is yet again sexually frustrated, and you decide to help him solve his problem (smut, smut, smut)!
Update: Here's part two!
And here's my masterlist...
♡^▽^♡ (◕ㅅ◕✿) ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! - Z
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wangxianficfinder ¡ 2 months ago
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Fic Finder
May 20th
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1. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where baby a-yuan and lan zhan travel back in time to during the sunshot campaign, and lan zhan tells everyone that a-yuan is his son, thank you! @suwuiko
FOUND? Lan Yuan’s War by BurningTea (G, 196k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Dad lwj, Sunshot Campaign, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Rumours, CQL Verse, Mental Health Issues, Sick LWJ)
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2. hi hi, hope you're doing well~ I'm looking for this one fic where the burial mounds area is like a veil of a separate, more dangerous, realm and there are monsters that are starting to break through the realm. Since the monsters are seen more often there have also been sightings of black-robed, red ribbon wearing people who are able to fight them more efficiently. It all comes to a head when there's a discussion conference and wwx shows up after either being asked to help or eavesdropping and helping ojt anyways, but theres lots of monster fighting and its v cool. wwx, wei yuan, song lan and/or xxc (?) and all the wens live there because of this insane thing that wwx rigged up that sustains this shield within by using rhe stygian tiger seal. The fic kind of ends with the core reveal and wwx pushing himself so much that lwj does a golden core transfer and gives his own core to wwx.
FOUND! 💖 Echo, Murmur, Dream, Here by bluerainmist (M, 51k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Universe Alteration, the yiling patriarch survives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catharsis, Slow Burn, Drama, Getting Together, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Melancholy, Love, Mutual Pining, Reunions, Love Confessions, Eventual Smut, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Switching, Grief/Mourning, fucking while pining, Implied/Referenced Torture, Self-Harm, golden core transfer, Playing fast and loose with worldbuilding, Battle Scenes, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, implied / Referenced suicide attempt, Sect Leader WWX, YLLZ WWX, Yílíng Wèi Sect)
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3. thank you so much for this blog!!! you have helped me find so many great reads! for your next fic finder, can you help me find a story i’ve searched for but cant find. its modern, no cultivation. Lan Zhan is part of big publishing company. believe Wei Ying is living with Wen Ning - dont remember how LZ/WY get together but at some point LZ discovers that WY has created a beautiful gaming world and happy ending LZ’s company publishes it as hugely successful game. hope this is enough info!
FOUND! 🧡 Where’s Your Emergency? by trippednfell (M, 64k, WangXian, 911 Dispatcher WWX, Single dad LWJ, Kid fic, Modern AU, D&D Games, Angst with a happy ending)
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4. FF request please!
All I remember is wangxian had confessed and WWX was texting JC who didn’t really want to know but asked anyway and WWX responded with “cri cri, kith, more cri and kith kith kith” and JC was all “why did I even ask?!”
It was cute and multi chapter, I think? I wanna read it again so bad. Plz! 🙏
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5. Hi! Please help me find a fic I've been looking after for ages!
It starts with Qin Su using the body sacrifice spell to bring Jiang Yanli into her body. Later on, Jiang Yanli tricks Xue Yang into using the same spell to resurrect Wei wuxian. I also think that Wei wuxian eventually manages to change his face back into his old one but uses a fake Xue Yang face when trying to uncover the plots of the Jin sect @avendesora-sedai
FOUND? the problem with authority by isabilightwood (M, 139k, WangXian, QingLi, Canon Divergence, Sacrifice Summon, slightly dark!JYL, wq lives because i said so, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Pain, Mild Sexual Content, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, manipulative relationship (background xiyao))
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6. hii!! I just wanted to thank you for all that you do for fanfic readers, we really very appreciate you!
I have been looking for a fanfic on AO3 for months and I have a feeling it may have been deleted but on the off chance it wasn't and I'm just a terrible finder, I was hoping you can help me? it was around a 20k one shot of wei ying in a modern universe with no magic and he is dealing with guilt for having caused a car accident that injured jc and yanli. he left them to live alone recovering from a leg injury and he met wen qing who was working at a supermarket. she wanted him to care for his injury when he was not doing so. there was a scene where he was taking care of plants in his apartment and deciding to meet the jiangs again. sorry it's so long but I wanted to read it again!
FOUND? #6 is a fic by ribena called "take yourself home" , I have a pdf. DM me if you would like it! @/the-marathon-continues-nip
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7. 🥺🙏 would you happen to know a wangxian fic where lwj is the moon god and wwx is the death god and they were together but 'broke up' before the start of the fic.  
the fic's main plot follows 3 mortals who are sent to the heavenly realm to somehow solve the problem of why wangxian broke up and it turned out toq be a huge misunderstanding in the end. lots of mystery and worldbuilding around thr heavenly realm, with most of thr mdzs as deities of different types. a side of mpreg in the final chapters with mo xuanyu as wangxian's spiritual energy baby.  
also: mo xuanyu was the name formed from the characters of each mortals name. @pogopogopogo
FOUND? The Gods of Love by 0_Heta_0 (M, 73k, WangXian, background XuanLi, Greek Gods, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Homophobia, POV Outsider)
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8. Hi! I'm searching for a fic I really liked but haven't marked anywhere and now I can't find it😭 I don't remember the title nor author buy it had a very unique plot I remember quite well. Here are a few key points I remember:
Wangxian are married and I'm almost sure it was Royalty AU
Wwx lost pieces of his soul and Lan Zhan is trying to find them in other people
It was mpreg and Wangxian had Sizhui and Jingyi
It was sorta morally gray lwj, since he is sacrificing people in hopes that one of them will being Wei Ying's consciousness back
Wei Ying is not dead but he is dull and I think he bearly spoke
Everyone is still alive
There was some sort of archery competition when a character (I think it was Mo Xuanyu but I'm not so sure) that lwj suspected to have a connection with Wei Ying shows up and he crashes against a tree and Wei Ying feels his pain
Then Wei Ying started appearing in this characters mirror and spoke to him angerly because to gain that characters trust lwj had to kinda flirt and show fake affection to that character and wwx sees it through the mirror and is very angry
Then after sacrificing that character Wei Ying's consciousness is back and he refuses to talk to Lan Wangji, he also isn't aware of how long he was gone for because he only remembers that Sizhui was 3 and that he had still pregnant with Jingyi but in fact 16 years has passed
This fic was not finished from what I remember and I think it was also a part of a series. Please help me find it, thank youuu! <3 @misiasb
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9. Hiiii for the next find finder can you help me with this story (it was on AO3 ) I’ve been searching a couple days now and I cannot find it :c
where wwx and lwj are already in a relationship it’s posible for it to be post canon. another sect sends a group of female cultivators to train I think it was under lwj but the leader of that group is really bold and it’s trying to get lwj’s affection (obviously not working) so they finally go to hunt something and wwx has to finish the threat cause lwj gets hurt or I think he rescues one of the girls and she takes the opportunity to steal a kiss. At some point in the story it was explained that the sect the girls come from has homophonic views and didn’t help in a case because of it.
FOUND? Just As Much by Gemiblu (E, 23k, WangXian, Jealousy, Boys In Love, Homophobia, demonic cultivation bondage, Power Bottom WWX, Cockblocking, Semi-Public Sex, Crying During Sex, Intimacy, New World, Female Characters, Casual Intimacy, mentions of non-canon character death, description of violent acts, post marriage, Explicit Sexual Content, Kissing, Affection, supportive married couple, Pet Names, YLLZ WWX)
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10. hi im looking for a fic i can’t seem to find, but basically it was a misunderstanding trope with wwx entering the body of a female cultivator instead of mo, and the cultivation world thinking they’re engaged and lan zhan still falling for her. if i remember right the summary had a mention of wwx wearing zidian? thank you!
FOUND? By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, WangXian, Mix of CQL and MDZS, Identity Porn, WWX has an atypical relationship with gender)
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11. Hi! I did find the post! Sorry for the trouble. I don’t use Tumblr a lot! There was a fic recommended but unfortunately that is not the one I was looking for.
I think WWX gave up the Tiger Seal and they were escorting him somewhere after that. The seal suddenly apparently and hide itself in WWX robes. LWJ saw it but didn’t say anything. Then later on the road it comes out and WWX was surprised bc he gave it up in the Jin.
The tiger seal was kinda like a cat. @saint-ly-sins
NOT FOUND? Turn a little faster by apathyinreverie (T, 42k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Humor, Pining LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Yin Iron, POV LWJ, time travel outsider pov, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Falling In Love, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, BAMF WWX, Crack Treated Seriously) There is the one where the Yin Iron is hiding in Wei Yings clothing while he goes around in the past thinking everything is a hallucination.
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12. Hello again!! You guys are wonderful and I was hoping you could help me find a fic I lost. I checked your relevant comp post and still can’t find it.
It was emperor!lwj, and he was married off to wwx as his empress, but cared not for the marriage (not even bothering to glance under wwx’s veil), and didn’t come to him on their wedding night. Wwx is sent off to a deserted, disrepaired palace (the cold palace, maybe?) essentially to be forgotten, and to make the best of a bad situation, wwx+some of the wens (who are ostensibly his staff) begin to farm and actually become a self-sustaining household. Lwj spots wwx one day and is immediately smitten but wwx makes him GROVEL, including doing menial labor on the farm. Wwx wants to remain cold towards lwj for the rejection, but of course eventually thaws and falls for him. I think lan xichen may have been scheming with jgy in this one but I can’t remember for certain. Any other fics where wwx truly makes lwj grovel and not just forgives him for whatever slight that you know of would also be appreciated!
Thank you so much!!!!
FOUND? 我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)
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13. Hello! I am simply terrible at remembering to bookmark fics. I was trying to find the fic where lwj and wwx go back in time at the events of night less city after lwj stabs wwx with his sword by accident? I had thought it was We Can See a New Start, but that’s clearly not it. I can’t narrow down the tags enough to find it, so I’m turning to yall. Thank youu
FOUND! Regrets by antebunny (G, 38k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Canon Divergence, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Explicit Descriptions of Love, and other squishy feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending)
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14. For days I've been trying to find this fic. I'm not sure with the details like if wei wuxian is a farmer here or older (i think he is a farmer though) but what I remember is lan wangji making advances to wei wuxian while sleeping (wei wuxian here is known as a heavy sleeper ) but at some point wei wuxian got awake during those and from then on anticipate what lan wangji gonna do, so he knows what lan wangji is doing and there's a number of that that happens. Also, lan wangji is running out of time because he was about to go to the main central or the palace to take an imperial exam (? I'm not sure if that's the term) anyway, he was going with lan sizhui to take that exam. I'm not sure if he goes on the day of the exam but I vaguely remember that he confess his feelings to wei wuxian before or on that day. Then they did the everyday. ヾ(@゜▽゜@)ノ
(I seen this post, can I have this? Anyone?) @lanwuxian0725
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15. Hellooo, I'm looking for a modern au where wwx has amnesia and doesn't remember being in a relationship or possibly even married to lwj, so they tell him they're roommates and remove all hints from their shared appartment. I remember wwx wondering why his room seems to have no personality (because it's the guest room) and him figuring it out when he goes snooping in lwj's room (which is of course their shared bedroom). I think lxc was involved in hiding the "evidence". Please, hivemind, send help! @wingsofbadass
FOUND! Hi I'm the one who was looking for the amnesia au, #15 on the 20.05. Fic Finder. Through an incredible group effort that involved someone remembering the pfp attached to the threadfic, someone recognizing whose pfp it was, and me combing through my discord history, we have figured out that it was a thread by yeehawmeowqing who has since deactivated and has asked to remain a memory.
not super helpful, but I am almost positive that I've read 15 and now I can't find it anywhere so it's possible it's been deleted? or hidden in a collection? if anyone keeps track of those things, that might be somewhere to look.
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16. Hello - I am looking for a fic where wwx was helping in a fisherman village. He ends up getting very close with a family there. Also he sent a few kids from that village to Jinlintai to learn cultivation and JL kept complaining that those hooligans were destroying koi tower. WWX end up marrying lwj at the village @hid9884
FOUND! Linger by the Door (I’ve Always Been Yours) by piecrust (T, 78k, wangxian, slow burn, canon compliant)
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17. Hello, I'm looking for a fanfiction, A/B/O world, Wuxian is an omega whose Mrs. Yu arranged a marriage with the alpha, Lan Wangji. At the same time, Yangli was supposed to marry Zixuan. I remember that it was a story from Yanli's point of view, who is bitter that Zixuan doesn't love her and didn't make her equal in the relationship, while Wangji made Wuxian equal in the relationship, which was not common. The Wangxians weren't in love before the marriage, but they respected each other and eventually fell in love. I know that equality in alpha-omega relationships was important in this story. @cityofhappiness
FOUND? 🔒 Alliance AU by Ilona22 (E, 23k, WangXian, JYL/OC, Arranged Marriage, A/B/O Dynamics, PWP, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Intersex Omegas, Not JC Friendly, Matchmaking, canon Jiang family dynamics, Family time, Night Hunts, Mention of male omega pregnancy, Intrigue at Jinlintai, Mentions of Prostitution, War, Conflict between characters) with part 5 being the one I think they're after
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18. Hello! Please help me find a fic where Wei Wuxian wakes up in Mo Xuanyu's body but as time passes his looks change into his old body. I'm like 85% sure it was from a third person viewpoint and the junior ducklings reaction was also written. I read this fic about 2 years ago I think and for some reason didn't bookmark it! Please help me find it I will forever appreciate and love you if you did<333 @aryadaiki
But the one I'm searching for was shorter than this it's mostly just reactions of everyone around him
Im sorry it's neither of those (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠) it's very gradual and no one noticed until he's completely transformed in his old body
NOT FOUND! Saw My Life in a Stranger’s Face by timetoboldlygo (T, 27k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Married Life, Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, wwx’s face changes post-canon to look like his original face, Slight Panic Attack, because lwj doesn’t recognize his husband, the mortifying ordeal of not knowing your own body, the terrifying inevitability of change, taller!wwx theory)
NOT FOUND! Is Your Old Body Considered a Halloween Costume? by The_peregrine_falcon (G, 3k, WangXian, WWX's original body, Fluff, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon)
NOT FOUND! Transcend by covalentbonds (Not Rated, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Smut, YLLZ WWX is prettiest fight me)
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19. Hi, I’m looking for a fic where wwx has been wondering the world by himself. I believe little apple was with him, but him and lwj were sharing a bed together in an inn and wwx was anxious about it because he didn’t think lwj liked him back. I’m so sorry if this description is bad 😭
FOUND? all I find is you by daltoneering (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Fluff, Confessions, There Was Only One Bed, First Time, finding home in unexpected places, Braid LWJ, Wound Tending)
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20. Help me find this fanfic. When Wei Wuxian fell off the mountain (it think the one in night less city) instead of succumbing to his own death, he was saved by baoshan sanren and was it with lan yi or lan an? He suffered from amnesia and forgot his son with Lan Wangji. He lived with Baoshan Sanren, together with Song Lan, Xingchen and the blind girl. @lu-wanji
FOUND? Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, LSZ & LWJ & WWX, Canon Divergence, war changes people, no pinning, LWJ learns how to speak, WWX is not oblivious, Established Relationship, wangxian are married and have a son, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, Canon-Typical Violence, LSZ is LWJ & WWX’s Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canonical Character Death - WWX, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts)
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113 notes ¡ View notes
catsushinyakajima ¡ 6 months ago
Text
KLANCE FIC RECS FOR THE NEW YEARS RECAP PART TWO
Ghost of the Future & Shadow of the Past by wittyy_name/@wittyy-name, Zizzani/@zizzani | 300k+ | Time-travel | Dual fic
These fics were genuinely so. What the fuck. Oh my god. I came into it not expecting too much and I came out of it like ahjhsihfs. I’m so so upset that it isn’t finished, that too right before the last chapter. There are so, so many good aspects to this fic. First off: the plot and its delivery. The idea of switching places with a past version of yourself is not an uncommon plotline. However, having the story be split into two stories following both the past and the present with each chapter parallelling each other was flawlessly executed. I would read one chapter where they would do xyz which affected the past, and then be so excited to see what happens next, and then be even more excited that I could simply read how it happened in the past. It felt like I was time itself, reading through parts of these characters' lives non-linearly. The KL chemistry is beautiful, the plot is beautiful, I sincerely love it.
it’s five o’clock somewhere by soulreapin/@soulreapin | 8.1k | Bartending AU | First Date
This fic was so so soft and funny. There were parts of the fic where I was so floored by the comedic writing that I was like damn why didn't I write this? Also, their first date is just so cute!
Run into the Bright Lights by peanutbutterapple/ https://hugoweasley.tumblr.com/ | 36.8k | April Fools Day | Canon Compliant
I've never seen an april fools day fic before and omg I wish there were more. The miscommunication between KL is so genuine and not a product of stupid actions. There's beautiful hurt/comfort. I've reread this two billion times.
AITA by perfchan/@jacqulinetan | 34k | Post-War
This fic is so so funny and just. It sums up the whole let down of returning back to civilian life after war very well and the way Lance shuts people out. So so good.
to breathe in this mirage by existwound/@existwound | 34k+ | Time-travel | Domestic KL
This fic is so good!?!? Astra writes KL fighting so well and it leads up to beautiful ANGST which leads to beautiful hurt/comfort. This fic is not finished but I love it so so so much.
Spider-Man Klance AU by iwriteshipsnotsailthem | 102.6k | Spider-man!Keith
This author captures the essence of spiderman in a fic so much. Many other spider-man aus will focus more on ships than the spiderman aspect, but this author balances it so well. There's a perfect blend of action and romance.
finally, you're mine by nezueye/@nezueye | 7.2k | Friends to Lovers | Modern AU
This has to be hands down one of the best fluff fics ever. Every scene with KL, which was all of them, was so satisfying and cute. I loved it so much I reread this all the time.
Even the People in Your Dreams Will Lie to You by popering/@roylustang | 314k+ | torture | angst
This fic is INSANE!!! Literally!! There's so much thought and detail that goes into the worldbuilding of the fic despite the world literally being canon VLD! This is a fic where every detail counts, and where you yourself might doubt your hindsight and knowledge too. I feel so bad for everyone in this story, and I eagerly await the last chapter (author take ur time w it tho plz)
my my, how can i resist you? by nikkiRA | 1.7k | Est Relationship | Watching Mamma Mia
This is a follow up to a fic where KL get together, but this snippet just has my heart. It's so beautiful to see the way Keith loves Lance.
what makes you beautiful by seventies | 4.5k | MMA!Keith x Nurse!Lance
The funniest fi in the world. I wish I knew the author IRL so I could laugh at their jokes everyday. They're so funny. This fic is so so funny.
I love you more than fried chicken by AsterikaMay/@catsushinyakajima | 9.1k words | Asexual!Lance
This is one of my fics...I included it cuz I'm ace and I LOVE ace fics LMAO
part one here
215 notes ¡ View notes
amethystarachnid ¡ 23 days ago
Note
Could you please write this if you're interested so that I can get it out of my mind?
bombarding a whole long dramatic plot so sorry in advance (guilty as charged)
so pepper has always been dangerously in love with ts and once she became the ceo of stark industries, tony gets a new pa, ofc our girl y/n. Tony falls in love with her and it annoys pepper. she makes attempts to get his attention but before she knows y/n falls for him too. pepper does her best to break them up but the lovely couple get married. pepper's last try was to tell tony that y/n cheated on him when she gets preggo and that's not his baby. of course he doesn't believe her at first but she manipulates him psychologically with fake evidence and stuff and he confronts her cuz he is heartbroken and tries to breakup with y/n. y/n feels betrayed when she comes to know that it was all made up by pepper to get tony. she tries to tell him but he doesn't listen anymore. so they breakup and she leaves to her parents house. months pass, she tries to recover from the heartbreak and has her baby there. a year or two passes and she slowly gets used to her new life and the kid is happy with their grandparents. tony, meanwhile somehow agrees to marrying pepper bcoz of her evil tricks and one day, he has to attend to a meeting in another town where y/n lives now and comes across his kid (some cute interactions b/w tony and the kid plz) at a park and later finds out that its y/n's child. when the kid asks y/n if she knows that man, she doesn't say that its the kid's father for obvious reasons. they both meet & talk, y/n's heart shatters when he tells her he is marrying pepper, they have a little confrontation again but this time he makes one last attempt to make sure that what pepper said is really true. he does some facts check and finds out she lied. he finds out her plan. he is emotionally shattered with regret now but tries to win his wife, child and y/n's parents back. he makes pepper apologize to y/n before he gets her arrested. it takes time but the family is gradually & finally together and lived happily ever after!
BEFORE ANYBODY ASKS, YES NOT AT ALL A FAN OF PEPPER
Thankyou! ❤️
SECOND CHANCES
⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK
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ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader
ᯓ★ Genre: fluff? never heard of it, romance (if you squint), ANGST but happy ending
ᯓ★ Word count: 5.2k
ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said
ᯓ★ TW(s): emotional manipulation/gaslighting, betrayal & heartbreak, toxic relationship dynamics (Pepper's actions), divorce/separation themes
ᯓ★ gurl I don't really like Pepper either but you...damn slay, hope you enjoy the fic
ᯓ★ Love is in the air - Valentine's Day special game
ᯓ★ My Masterlist
ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special
ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!
ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)
ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo
ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language
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Pepper Potts has always loved Tony Stark—dangerously so. It’s a love that burns too bright, too possessive, too desperate. She remembers the early days when she was just his assistant, cleaning up his messes, organizing his chaos, and secretly wishing he would see her as more than just the woman who kept his life in order. She waited, patient and calculating, believing that one day he would realize she was the only one who truly understood him. And when she became CEO of Stark Industries, she thought that day had finally come.
But Tony Stark is nothing if not unpredictable.
He doesn’t see the way Pepper’s fingers linger when she hands him reports, doesn’t notice the sharp edge in her voice when she reminds him of meetings he’s missed, doesn’t catch the way her eyes darken when he flirts with someone else. To him, Pepper is brilliant, capable, indispensable—but not his. Not in the way she wants to be. He’s oblivious, wrapped up in his own world of inventions and near-death experiences, never realizing that the woman who runs his company would tear the world apart if it meant having him for herself.
And then you arrive.
You’re the new personal assistant, handpicked by Pepper herself—though she’ll soon regret that decision. You’re efficient, quick-witted, and unafraid of Tony’s sarcasm. The first time you meet, he’s in the middle of dismantling a prototype in his workshop, grease smeared across his cheek, music blaring so loud the walls vibrate. You don’t flinch when he ignores your greeting, just walk over to the control panel and turn the volume down yourself.
Tony pauses, wrench in hand, and finally looks at you. "Who are you?"
"Your new PA," you say, unfazed. "Y/N. Pepper hired me."
He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. Most people either stammer or snap at him—you do neither. "You any good?"
"I guess you’ll find out."
And just like that, he’s interested.
It starts small—a joke here, a shared eye-roll there. He likes the way you don’t tiptoe around him, the way you match his energy without trying too hard. You bring him coffee exactly how he likes it, remember his meetings before he does, and somehow manage to keep up with his rapid-fire thoughts. Before long, he’s seeking you out, not just for work, but because he enjoys your company.
Pepper notices.
At first, she tells herself it’s nothing. Tony has always been charming, always had a way of making people feel special. But then she sees the way he looks at you—like you’re a puzzle he can’t wait to solve. She hears the laughter drifting from his workshop, the easy banter between meetings. And worst of all, she sees the way you look back at him—like he’s more than just the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Like he’s just Tony.
It makes her blood boil.
She tries to reclaim his attention—scheduling unnecessary meetings, dropping by his office with thinly veiled excuses, even dressing sharper, smiling brighter. But Tony is already slipping away, his focus shifting to you in a way it never did for her.
And then it happens.
One late night in the lab, after hours of working side by side, Tony turns to you and says, "You know, I could get used to this."
"Used to what?" you ask, though you already know.
"Having you around."
The words hang between you, charged and undeniable. And when he kisses you, it’s not the careless flirtation Pepper is used to—it’s real.
By the time Pepper realizes what’s happening, it’s too late. Tony is in love with you. And you? You’re in love with him.
And she’ll do anything to tear you apart.
---
Pepper’s attempts to reclaim Tony’s attention start subtly—just enough to make you question if you’re imagining things. She lingers too close when discussing company matters, laughs a little too brightly at his jokes, and always seems to appear just as the two of you are sharing a quiet moment. At first, you brush it off. Pepper is his friend, his former assistant, his CEO. Of course, they’re close.
But then the comments start.
"Tony always hated it when people rearranged his tools—just a heads-up." (Even though he’d just praised you for organizing his workspace.)
"He never takes anyone seriously who doesn’t challenge him intellectually." (Said after you’d spent hours debating engineering concepts with him.)
"You know, he gets bored easily." (Whispered just as Tony was smiling at you from across the room, looking anything but bored.)
You don’t say anything to Tony. You don’t want to seem jealous or paranoid. But the tension builds, and Pepper’s tactics grow bolder—suddenly needing him for "urgent" meetings when he’s with you, "accidentally" scheduling you for conflicting appointments so you miss time together, even making pointed remarks about how replaceable assistants are.
Tony, for all his genius, is oblivious.
Until the night he finds you crying in the hallway outside his lab.
You hadn’t meant to break down—you were stronger than this. But Pepper’s latest barb had cut deep: "He’ll always come back to me in the end. I’m the one who knows him best."
Tony stops dead when he sees you. "Y/N?" His voice is uncharacteristically soft. "What’s wrong?"
You try to wave it off, but he won’t let you. He cups your face, thumbs brushing away your tears, and when you finally admit what’s been happening, his expression darkens.
"She’s been doing what?"
The next day, he confronts Pepper. You don’t hear the argument, but you see the aftermath—her storming out of his office, eyes blazing. And from that moment on, Tony makes his choice very clear.
He doesn’t just defend you—he chooses you.
He takes you out on real dates, not just stolen moments between meetings. He introduces you as his girlfriend at company events, his fingers laced with yours, daring anyone to question it. And when Pepper tries one last time to sabotage things—sending you on a fake assignment to another country—Tony shuts it down immediately, pulling you into his arms and murmuring, "You’re not going anywhere."
It’s not long before he’s sliding a ring onto your finger, kissing you in front of the entire world, and grinning like a man who’s just won the best prize in the universe.
Pepper watches from the sidelines, her face unreadable.
But you don’t care.
Because Tony Stark is yours.
And when you find out you’re pregnant, he drops to his knees right there in the lab, pressing his forehead against your stomach, whispering promises to both of you.
Pepper may have loved him first.
But you’re the one he loves now.
---
The moment you tell Tony you’re pregnant, his entire world shifts. You see it in his eyes—the way they go impossibly soft, the way his hands tremble just slightly as they cradle your face. He kisses you like you’re something sacred, murmurs promises against your lips, and from that day forward, he’s different.
Gone is the careless playboy, the man who used to smirk his way through life like nothing could touch him. Now, he hovers. He frets. He brings you breakfast in bed, rubs your feet after long days, and talks to your belly like the baby can already hear him.
"You’re going to be so loved," he whispers, his palm pressed gently against your still-flat stomach. "So, so loved."
You’ve never seen him like this—so open, so tender. It makes your heart ache in the best way.
But Pepper watches.
And she hates it.
You don’t realize how deep her resentment runs until the day Tony comes home with storm in his eyes. He’s quiet, too quiet, and when you reach for him, he doesn’t pull you close like usual.
"Tony?" you ask, your voice small.
He exhales sharply, running a hand over his face. "We need to talk."
Your stomach drops.
Pepper has planted her poison carefully. Fake messages. Edited security footage. A fabricated story about you and some nameless Stark employee, all designed to make Tony doubt the one thing he’s ever been sure of—you.
At first, he refused to believe it. But Pepper is smart. She knows his insecurities, knows how to twist the knife just right. "You really think someone that perfect would stay faithful? Come on, Tony. You’re not that naive."
And now he’s standing in front of you, jaw clenched, looking like his entire world is crumbling.
"Tell me it’s not true," he says, his voice rough.
Your breath catches. "What?"
"Pepper showed me—" He stops, like the words physically hurt him. "She said you’ve been… with someone else. That the baby might not be mine."
The room spins.
You reach for him, desperate. "Tony, no. No. You know I would never—"
"Do I?" The words are quiet, dangerous. "Because the evidence is pretty damn convincing."
There’s no anger in his voice. Just pain. And that’s worse.
You want to scream, to shake him, to make him see. But the man in front of you isn’t the Tony who whispers love into your skin. This is the Tony who’s been betrayed too many times, the one who’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And Pepper has made sure it does.
"I think… we need some time apart," he says finally, his voice hollow.
You feel the crack in your chest before you even process the words. "Tony, please. You know me. You know I would never hurt you like this."
His eyes flicker—just for a second—like part of him wants to believe you. But then his walls slam back up.
"I need to be sure," he says. And then he walks out.
The door clicks shut behind him.
And for the first time since he kissed you in his lab, you feel truly alone.
Pepper has won.
For now.
---
The days after Tony walks out are a blur of numbness and pain.
You try calling him. He doesn’t answer.
You send texts, long paragraphs pouring your heart out, begging him to listen. They go unread.
You even go to the Tower, only to be stopped by security—"Mr. Stark’s orders."
Pepper’s victory is absolute.
The worst part is the baby. His baby. The one he had been so excited for, the one he had whispered promises to in the dark. Now, every time you feel the faintest flutter in your stomach, it’s a reminder of what you’ve lost.
You can’t stay in New York. Not when every corner of the city reminds you of him. Not when Pepper’s smug smile lingers in the back of your mind.
So you pack your things.
It’s raining the day you leave. Fitting, really. The sky cries the tears Tony refuses to shed. You take one last look at the penthouse—the home you had started to build with him—before closing the door behind you.
Your parents welcome you with open arms, but their worried glances don’t escape you. They don’t ask questions, not yet. They just let you collapse into your childhood bed, your body wracked with silent sobs.
That night, you dream of him.
Tony’s laughter. Tony’s hands tracing patterns on your skin. Tony’s voice, low and tender, murmuring "I love you" against your lips.
You wake up gasping, your cheeks wet.
Reality crashes back down.
He doesn’t love you anymore.
He doesn’t even trust you.
And that… that breaks you more than anything else.
You press a hand to your stomach, choking back another wave of tears.
"I’m so sorry, little one," you whisper. "Daddy… Daddy doesn’t want us anymore."
Somewhere, miles away, Tony stares at a half-built crib in his workshop, his chest hollow.
And Pepper?
She smiles.
----
Months pass.
The sharp edges of your heartbreak dull into a constant, aching throb. You learn to live with it, to breathe around it. Some days are easier. Some days, you wake up reaching for him, only to remember all over again that he’s gone.
But then Nova arrives.
Your beautiful, perfect baby girl—with Tony’s dark lashes, his expressive eyebrows, even the same little crease in her forehead when she’s fussy. She’s a tiny piece of him, and it hurts so much you can barely stand it.
But you love her more than anything.
Your parents, who had never fully trusted Tony (his reputation as a reckless playboy had always made them wary), now despise him completely. They don’t say it outright, but you see it in the way your father’s jaw tightens at the mention of his name, the way your mother’s voice goes sharp when she mutters about "that man" under her breath.
Still, they adore Nova.
Your father, who had always been stoic, melts the first time he holds her. Your mother spends hours rocking her, humming lullabies you haven’t heard since you were a child. They become the perfect grandparents—patient, doting, fiercely protective.
And you? You throw yourself into motherhood.
Nova becomes your entire world. You memorize the sound of her giggles, the way her tiny fingers curl around yours, the warmth of her little body pressed against your chest as she sleeps. You tell her stories—safe ones, happy ones—never mentioning the father who doesn’t even know she exists.
You wonder, sometimes, if Tony ever thinks about you. If he ever wonders about the baby.
But then you remember the coldness in his eyes when he walked away, and you force yourself to stop.
Meanwhile, in New York, Pepper’s manipulation deepens.
She’s careful, calculated. She doesn’t push too hard, doesn’t make it obvious. Instead, she weaves herself into Tony’s life, filling the spaces you left behind.
"You’re better off without her," she murmurs when she finds him staring blankly at the crib he never finished building.
"She would have just dragged you down," she says when he snaps at his team for no reason, his temper shorter than ever.
And Tony, lost in his own guilt and grief, doesn’t question it.
He throws himself into work, into missions, into anything that keeps him from thinking about you. The few times someone dares to bring you up, he shuts them down immediately.
"Don’t."
He doesn’t want to hear it. Doesn’t want to remember.
Because if he lets himself think about you—about the baby—he might break.
And Pepper?
She watches, satisfied.
She won.
At least, that’s what she thinks.
---
Two years.
Two years since you last saw Tony. Two years since your heart shattered into pieces. Two years of learning how to live without him.
Nova is your light.
She’s growing so fast—already running on tiny, unsteady legs, babbling in that sweet, nonsensical way toddlers do. She has Tony’s mischievous grin, his expressive eyes, and an energy that never seems to fade. Your parents adore her, spoiling her with love and laughter.
Life is… peaceful.
Not what you dreamed of, but good.
Until fate intervenes.
Tony doesn’t know why he agreed to this business trip.
Pepper had insisted—some merger that required his personal attention. He’s been distant lately, even with her. Their engagement feels hollow, a decision made out of exhaustion rather than love. But he goes through the motions, because what else is there?
Then, during a rare moment of solitude, he wanders into a small park near his hotel.
And that’s when he sees her.
A little girl, no older than two, with wild curls and a bright pink sunhat. She’s crouched in the grass, utterly fascinated by a ladybug crawling on her tiny finger.
Tony slows, watching her. There’s something… familiar about her.
She looks up, and her eyes—his eyes—lock onto him.
"Hi!" she chirps, waving enthusiastically.
Tony blinks. "Uh. Hi."
The kid scrambles to her feet, toddling over with zero hesitation. "I’m Nova!"
"Nova," he repeats, the name settling strangely in his chest. "Cool name."
She grins, and god, that smile. It tugs at something deep inside him. "You have a beard," she announces, reaching up like she’s going to poke it.
Tony instinctively leans back, but he’s smiling now. "Yeah, I do. You like it?"
Nova nods seriously. "It’s scratchy."
He barks out a laugh. "Yeah, it is."
She tilts her head, studying him with an intensity that feels far too knowing for a toddler. "You look sad."
Tony freezes.
Before he can respond, a voice cuts through the air—a voice he hasn’t heard in years but would recognize anywhere.
"Nova! Where are you, sweetheart?"
His heart stops.
And then you appear, hurrying down the path, your eyes widening in horror when you see who your daughter is talking to.
Time stops.
Tony stares at you. You stare back.
Nova, oblivious, beams and points. "Mama! Look! I found a beard man!"
You swallow hard, your hands trembling as you scoop her up. "I see that, baby."
Tony’s gaze flicks between you and Nova—his nose, his smile, his eyes—and realization slams into him like a freight train.
Oh.
Oh no.
Nova tugs on your sleeve. "Mama, do you know him?"
Your throat tightens. You can’t lie to her, but you can’t tell the truth either.
"...Yes," you whisper. "A long time ago."
Tony’s expression shatters.
And just like that, the past crashes into the present.
The air between you and Tony is thick with unspoken words. Nova, sensing the tension, clings to you a little tighter.
“We need to talk,” Tony says, his voice rough.
You hesitate. You don’t want this—don’t want to reopen old wounds in front of your daughter. But the look in his eyes tells you he won’t let this go.
“Not here,” you murmur, glancing down at Nova.
Tony follows your gaze, his expression softening as he takes in her curious little face. He reaches out, almost instinctively, but stops himself. “Right. Yeah.”
You take Nova back to your parents’ house, leaving her in their care with a kiss on her forehead. She doesn’t understand why you look so upset, but she pats your cheek with her tiny hand. “Mama okay?”
You force a smile. “Mama’s fine, sweetheart.”
Then you step outside, where Tony is waiting.
The café is quiet, nearly empty. You sit across from him, your hands wrapped around a mug you don’t drink from.
Tony doesn’t waste time. “She’s mine.”
It’s not a question.
You exhale shakily. “Yes.”
His jaw clenches. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The question stings. “I tried, Tony. You wouldn’t listen. You believed Pepper over me.”
He flinches. “I—I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t want to know,” you fire back, your voice breaking. “You walked away and never looked back.”
Tony runs a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt warring in his expression. “I’m engaged to Pepper now.”
The words hit like a physical blow. You knew it was coming—had seen the headlines—but hearing it from him? It still rips through you.
“Congratulations,” you say flatly.
Tony’s eyes narrow. “You don’t mean that.”
“What do you want me to say, Tony?” You laugh bitterly. “That I’m happy for you? After everything?”
He leans forward, his voice dropping. “I just—I need to know. One last time. Did you cheat on me?”
You stare at him, your heart shattering all over again. Even now, after all this time, he still doubts you.
“No,” you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “I loved you. Only you.”
Tony searches your face, as if looking for any hint of a lie.
And for the first time, something flickers in his eyes—doubt. Not in you.
In Pepper.
Back in New York, Tony does what he should have done years ago.
He digs.
Pepper’s lies unravel quickly under his scrutiny. The fabricated messages? Traced back to an untraceable server—one linked to her private accounts. The “security footage” of you with another man? Edited. Poorly, once he looks closely.
And then he finds the final nail in the coffin—an email from Pepper to a private investigator, instructing him to "find anything, real or not, to break them apart."
Tony sits in his workshop, staring at the evidence, his blood running cold.
He’d let her manipulate him.
He’d abandoned you.
He’d missed two years of his daughter’s life.
The guilt is crushing.
But more than that?
The rage.
Pepper walks in, smiling, unaware of the storm brewing. “Tony? The wedding planner—”
“We’re done.” His voice is ice.
She freezes. “What?”
Tony stands, tossing the files onto the table between them. “I know what you did.”
Pepper’s face pales as she sees the evidence. “Tony, I can explain—”
“Get out.”
“You don’t understand—”
“GET OUT!”
She flinches, but Tony doesn’t care.
He has one thought, one mission.
Fix this.
You’re putting Nova to bed when the knock comes.
Your father answers, his voice sharp. “You.”
Tony’s reply is quiet but firm. “I need to see her.”
You step into the hallway, your heart pounding. Tony looks wrecked—his eyes red-rimmed, his shoulders slumped.
But his voice is steady.
“I know the truth,” he says. “And I’m so, so sorry.”
You don’t move.
Tony swallows hard. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I’m here. For Nova. For you. If you’ll let me.”
Nova’s sleepy voice floats from her room. “Mama? Beard man back?”
Tony’s breath catches.
And just like that, the walls around your heart crack.
Because no matter how much he hurt you…
She deserves her father.
You step aside.
“Come meet your daughter, Tony.”
---
Nova sits cross-legged on her bed, blinking sleepily as Tony steps into the room. She tilts her head, studying him with those big, curious eyes—his eyes—and then grins. "Beard man!"
Tony's throat tightens. He crouches beside her bed, his hands trembling slightly as he brushes a curl from her forehead. "Hey, kiddo."
You stand in the doorway, arms crossed, heart pounding. This moment feels surreal—like something you dreamed of a thousand times but never thought would actually happen.
Nova reaches out, patting Tony's scruffy cheek. "You came back."
"Yeah," Tony whispers, voice rough. "I did."
You step forward, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Nova, sweetheart, remember how we talked about your daddy?"
She nods, swinging her little legs. "Daddy far away."
You take a deep breath. "Well... he's not far away anymore."
Tony's gaze flicks to you, surprised, grateful.
Nova gasps. "You my daddy?"
Tony swallows hard. "Yeah, baby. I'm your daddy."
For a second, no one moves. Then Nova throws her arms around his neck with a squeal. "Daddy! Daddy home!"
Tony hugs her tightly, his face buried in her hair, shoulders shaking. You have to look away, blinking back tears.
Winning back your parents is harder.
Your father glares when Tony walks into the living room, Nova perched happily on his hip. "So. You're back."
Tony sets Nova down, letting her scamper off to play before facing your parents. "Sir, I—"
"Don't 'sir' me," your dad snaps. "You broke my daughter's heart. You abandoned your child. And now you waltz back in like nothing happened?"
Tony doesn't flinch. "You're right. I messed up. Worse than messed up. But I love them. And I'm going to prove it."
Your mother crosses her arms. "How?"
"However long it takes," Tony says, looking at you. "A day. A year. Forever. I'm not leaving again."
You bite your lip, torn between hope and fear.
Nova chooses that moment to barrel back in, clutching a crayon drawing. "Look! I drawed Daddy!"
The crude stick figure has an exaggerated beard and a big smile. Tony takes it like it's priceless art. "This is going in my office. Right next to my Nobel Prize."
Nova giggles. "What's a No-bell Prize?"
Tony grins. "Something way less important than this."
Your mother's stern expression cracks, just a little.
The days that follow are a whirlwind.
Tony is everywhere—helping with bath time, reading bedtime stories, letting Nova "fix" his watch with her toy tools. He soaks up every second with her, like he's trying to memorize it all.
With you, he's careful. No grand gestures, no empty promises. Just quiet, steady presence.
He brings you coffee in the morning, just the way you like it.
He washes the dishes after dinner without being asked.
He sits with you on the porch after Nova's asleep, talking about everything and nothing, like he's relearning the sound of your voice.
One night, as fireflies flicker in the yard, Tony turns to you. "I don't deserve either of you."
You study his profile—the tired lines around his eyes, the new gray in his beard. "Maybe not," you admit. "But Nova loves you. And I... I could learn to trust you again."
Tony reaches for your hand, hesitating just before contact. You close the gap, threading your fingers through his.
His breath catches. "That's all I need."
Nova's laughter floats through the open window as she dreams.
And for the first time in years, you let yourself believe in happy endings.
---
The weeks pass in a warm, sunlit haze—mornings filled with Nova’s delighted squeals when Tony carries her downstairs, afternoons spent in the backyard as she "helps" him tinker with gadgets (mostly handing him the wrong tools while he pretends they’re exactly what he needed), and evenings where the three of you curl up together, Nova snug between you as Tony reads her favorite stories with ridiculous voices.
She adores him.
And Tony?
Tony is wrapped around her tiny finger.
You catch him staring at her sometimes, his expression so full of awe it makes your chest ache. Like he can’t believe she’s real. Like he can’t believe he almost missed this.
One night, as you tuck Nova into bed, she clutches Tony’s sleeve. "Daddy stay forever?"
Tony’s breath hitches. He presses a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah, baby. Forever."
She grins, satisfied, and drifts off to sleep still holding his hand.
With you, Tony is patient. Careful. He doesn’t push, doesn’t rush. But slowly, the walls between you crumble.
It’s in the way he brushes his fingers against yours when you pass him a coffee.
The way he pulls you close during Nova’s chaotic dance parties in the living room, his laughter warm in your ear.
The way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice—like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
One evening, as you wash dishes side by side, his shoulder bumps yours. "You’re happy?"
You glance at him, surprised. "Yeah. I am."
Tony nods, his gaze drifting to where Nova is sprawled on the rug, coloring furiously. "Me too."
Simple words. But they mean everything.
Pepper’s apology comes on a rainy afternoon.
Tony had warned you. "You don’t have to see her. But she will face what she did."
You agreed, if only for closure.
Pepper looks nothing like the polished CEO you remember. Her hair is limp, her eyes shadowed. When she speaks, her voice is hollow.
"I’m sorry."
You don’t forgive her. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But you nod, because Nova is playing in the next room, and you refuse to let bitterness take root in your life again.
Tony’s hand finds yours, squeezing gently. Then he turns to Pepper, his expression cold. "The authorities are waiting."
As she’s led away, you exhale, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders.
Tony pulls you into his arms. "It’s over."
You bury your face in his chest, breathing him in.
Nova toddles in then, clutching her favorite stuffed Iron Man toy. "Daddy! Up!"
Tony scoops her up effortlessly, pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaning down to brush one against your lips.
And just like that, the last of the shadows fade.
Later, when Nova is asleep and the house is quiet, Tony slides a small box across the kitchen table.
You open it with trembling hands.
Not an engagement ring.
A family ring—three intertwined bands, one for each of you.
"Whenever you’re ready," Tony murmurs.
You slip it onto your finger.
It fits perfectly.
---
Moving into Stark Tower feels like stepping into a new life—one you never thought you’d have again. The penthouse is different now, brighter, filled with toys and tiny shoes left haphazardly by the door. Nova’s laughter echoes through the halls as she races from room to room, her little feet pounding against the floor as she explores her new home with wide-eyed wonder. Tony follows her everywhere, letting her "test" his tech (which mostly consists of her smashing buttons and giggling when lights flash) and watching her with a softness in his eyes that still makes your breath catch.
The media, of course, loses its collective mind.
STARK’S SHOCKING REUNION! TONY STARK REMARRIES EX-WIFE—SECRET LOVE CHILD REVEALED!
The headlines scream from every tabloid, paparazzi swarming the Tower’s entrance for days. Tony handles it with surprising patience, giving one carefully worded press statement before shutting it all down—but not before the world gets a glimpse of Nova in his arms during a rare public outing, her tiny hands clutching his face as she babbles something only he seems to understand. The photo goes viral instantly—Tony Stark, Billionaire Playboy, Completely Smitten by Toddler Daughter.
You and Tony don’t rush the wedding.
You’ve already been married once. You’ve already had the grand spectacle. This time, it’s just the three of you in the Tower’s private garden, Nova twirling in her little white dress between you as Tony slips the ring back onto your finger. His hands are steady, but his voice wavers when he says, "I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
You believe him.
Because every morning since you moved in, you’ve woken up to coffee and breakfast in bed—just like he used to do when you were first married. Because he still looks at you like you’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen, his fingers brushing against yours whenever you’re close enough. Because he spends hours on the floor with Nova, building block towers just to let her knock them down, his laughter mingling with hers in a way that makes your heart ache.
He’s trying. Really trying.
And it’s working.
Nova adjusts faster than you expected. She loves the Tower—loves the "big windows!" and the "fast elevator!" and especially the fact that Daddy’s workshop is now her playground. Tony, who once banned everyone from touching his tools, lets her stack screws into precarious piles and "fix" his suits with a plastic wrench. FRIDAY adores her, playing nursery rhymes on command and dimming the lights when she naps. The Avengers, once wary of Tony’s sudden family life, are quickly won over by Nova’s enthusiastic hugs and Tony’s uncharacteristic softness around her.
But it’s the quiet moments that undo you.
Like when Tony carries a sleepy Nova to bed after movie night, her head tucked under his chin, his voice a low murmur as he tells her a story about a princess who was also an engineer.
Like when you catch him watching old videos of her on his phone—footage he missed, moments he’ll never get back—his thumb brushing over the screen like he’s committing it all to memory.
Like when he pulls you close in the kitchen, his lips finding yours in a kiss that still feels like coming home, Nova’s giggles ringing out as she tugs on his pant leg. "Daddy! My turn!"
He lifts her up, peppering her face with kisses before leaning in to press one to your lips too.
"My girls," he murmurs, like it’s the greatest title he’s ever held.
The media can speculate all they want. The world can whisper about your whirlwind reunion. But here, in this little corner of the universe you’ve rebuilt together, none of it matters.
Tony’s hand in yours. Nova’s arms around both of you.
This is everything.
And this time, you’re not letting go.
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maybe y/n forgave him too quickly? ik but I couldn't take it anymore with the angst so forgive me...
and if you want to laugh just know that for the first picture on this post I had to search on Pinterest 'divorce aesthetic'...yeah I'm ashamed of myself
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mattsariella ¡ 8 days ago
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✧˖°. EMO!SUB!MATT ⋆⋆⋆Is new to a small Midwest town and knows hardly anyone, he’s shy, anti social and wants to stay home all day. He misses school most days to avoid meeting new people and works a shitty gas station job to save enough money to leave as soon as possible until he meets someone who makes it all tolerable.
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₊˚⊹ ᰔSMALLTOWN!READER ⋆⋆⋆Is a lonely bitch who hates her shitty friends and family. She works at the same gas station to get out of the house and spends most of her days wandering around aimlessly to distract herself from her thoughts. She genuinely cares far too much for people and doesn’t get anything back until she meets someone who finally reciprocates it.
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Yay content!! I’ve been plotting this one for awhile so where r the mood boards, hope u like themmm. I need some input tho from u guys, would you prefer this as a series or an AU. If it were a series I would take minimal requests and it would likely contain lots of angst with a small bit of fluff and smut but be mostly storytelling etc, or an AU which would let u guys make requests and you could pick and choose wether you read the smut, angst or fluff stories without affecting a plot. I’m happy to expand on either but I would love to know would you guys would prefer so I know people would actually engage and read it😭 plz comment your input ily all.
Edit! Forgot to add 🏷️
₊˚⊹⋆ Taglist
@mattilda987 @sophand4n4 @lolastrniolo @courta13
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lifeafterartsch00l ¡ 10 months ago
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The answer is yes, yes they have plz see below~
✨MY FAVE KAKAIRU FICS✨
A change of pace this week from the usual sasunaru programming to celebrate Naruto’s gay dads, feat. my terrible memes
As per usual, I’ll try and find the authors to tag them, if you know who they are on tumblr, plz tag them in the comments! 💖
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He ships it
Worship by decaf_kitty
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Careful it’s hot 🥵
Beloved decaf kitty, may your coffee never be bitter, may your pillow be the perfect temperature, and you never get writer’s block ❤️ amen! Please read this one shot it’s AMAZING
“Additional Tags: Slow Build, Romance, Resolved Sexual Tension, Explicit Sexual Content, Begging, Inappropriate Use of the Sharingan
Summary: Late at night, Kakashi and Iruka randomly meet at a ramen stand... One little conversation later, they're in Kakashi's bedroom, with Iruka on his knees, and a blushing Kakashi staring down at the sensei between his bare thighs”
Kintsugi by The_Rivers_Dark
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She ships it
I excitedly followed each new chapter release of this fic 💕 most incredible descriptions of intimacy, a fantastic writer 💕 also Tsunade tries to meddle and it’s just terrific (read it to find out if it works tehe) 💕 so wonderful, a comforting fic like a warm hug (but also really sexy idk man I’m not a writer clearly haha).
“Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, less hurt more comfort, Comfort, hurt comfort that turns to comfort, hurt comfort that turns to comfort erotica, comfort erotica, Erotica, mutual pining to mutual love, Love, Romance, Smut, Shameless Smut, Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, come for the erotica stay for the comfort, come for the comfort stay for the erotica, if it’s broken fix it and never let it out of your sight again, painting with muted colours never suited my literary palette, Tsunade as a cockblock device and a meddler, plot arc what plot arc, pacing what pacing, Whirlwind Romance, we’re all about the comfort here, Roommates, And then they were roommates, Eventual marriage, Marriage, they get married at the end, Getting Together, Sweet/Hot, Happy Ending, for all you Kakashi-level perverts out there sexy tags include but are not limited to, Frotting, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Nipple Play, 69 (Sex Position), Spanking, Fingerfucking, Blindfolds, it doesn’t count as a threesome if one of them is a shadow clone, Sweet, Spicy, sweet and spicy, Rimming, Snippet beta we die like Akatsuki villains only to be resurrected again, Domestic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Idiots in Love, Light Bondage, versatile lovers, Top Hatake Kakashi, Top Umino Iruka, Belonging
Summary:
Kintsugi: The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of an object's history, rather than something to disguise.
(Iruka gets heavily injured in a mission gone wrong. Problem is, Tsunade knows he won't stay in the hospital long enough to recuperate. Kakashi finds himself volunteering to be his carer. As they get closer, the tension between them reaches a boiling point. Complete.)”
Unspoken by RenGoneMad
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Incredible canon-compliant rewrite where Kakashi and Iruka meet much earlier (kind of, you’ll see). And Kakashi has a long time cruuuuuuush 😜 the banter/flirting is really cute. The pacing and development of the relationship is so so good! The way the author gets into their heads is just great. Both 🔥 & heartwarming! ❤️
“Additional Tags: Romance, Slow Burn, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Fluff and Angst, Hatake Kakashi-centric, POV Hatake Kakashi, Secret Identity, Canon Compliant, Canon - Manga, Complete, Kissing, Sexual Tension, Obsession, But not unhealthy or creepy, Pining, Stalking, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Suicide, (as complies with canon)
Summary: The memorial stone should be a place to mourn the dead, a place to remember the many sins and failures that haunt Hatake Kakashi.
To Iruka, it's a place to speak to his parents, and the mysterious ANBU who listens.
Follows Kakashi from ages 14 to 29, and the many ways Iruka changes his life”
The Outcasted by yeou_bi
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Sensual, erotic, all without anything explicit (yet?). They way they’re falling in love is so cute 😭 Just lovely ❤️ I hope the author writes more chapters! 😊🤞🏽
“Chapters: 3/?
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Additional Tags: Hospitalization, Illnesses, References to Illness, Loneliness, POV Alternating, Present Tense, Skin diseases, Slow Burn, Denial of Feelings, Nausea, Touch-Starved, Touching, Hurt/Comfort, Pandemics, Dysfunctional Relationships, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Bullying, Discrimination
Summary: During the outbreak of a mysterious disease, Kakashi finds himself sharing a clinic room with Iruka.
What begins as simple moments of sharing the same burden slowly turns confusing. When physical touch could mean an infection, it also becomes a commodity that's hard to come by for those who are recovering”
Thank you to all the talented authors! 💕
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reallyromealone ¡ 1 year ago
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Sorry the anon for the part 3 to bakugos brother. It’s part 3 to kirishima x male reader bakugos little brother plz.
Title: bakugos brother
Chapter: 3
Fandom: my hero Academia
Warnings: male reader, fluff, angst, complicated family relationships
Notes: I'm giving him a quirk for plot purposes
☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️
(Name) Knew his parents weren't as attentive to him as they were his brother, at some point he grew to be fine with it.
What he wasn't expecting was that his parents didn't want him going to U.A because he would outshine his brother; this left a bitter taste in his mouth when he learned this.
Kirishima didn't know what (name)s quirk was, all he knew is that (name) didn't like talking about it but what he wasn't expecting was (name) inviting him to a chess tournament he would be playing at, at U.A. "there's a nice cash prize, maybe after we can get food if Aizawa allows it" (name)s soft and calm voice said over the phone and Kirishima grinned, swooning ever so slightly at his boyfriends casual romanticism "I would love too! Oh there's a place that sells cakes that look like sheep!" He could hear (name) huff out a soft laugh "sure, whatever"
When (name) arrived at U.A with his visitors pass, he was greeted by Aizawa who would be accompanying him, where all players being escorted? "Hello again, Mr. Aizawa" (name) said blandly with a respectful bow, the hero always shocked at how different the Bakugo siblings were "I hope my brother isn't giving you to many grey hairs" Aizawa huffed, amused at the other who was so calm and collected while joking "you think you're gonna win?" The man asked the teen when they made it to the event room, set up with nice chess sets on multiple tables "I know I will"
(Name) Was calm as he defeated his opponents in less than 20 moves, refusing any draws and even managing to make one person cry.
Kirishima watched with rapt attention though he couldn't help but notice that none of (name)s family showed up, not even Bakugo who was in the same location as (name) at the moment and it made the redhead want to support (name) even more, having gotten a bouquet for him as a "you won!" Gift as he watched his handsome boyfriend lay absolute hell upon his opponent.
What they didn't know is that someone was also watching this, with eager eyes and chaos thoughts brewing as he watched every game with rapt attention.
"He was supposed to be the best from Shibuya but he got cocky" (name) said calmly as Kirishima asked him countless questions, he didn't really get chess but he thought it was hella manly and badass at how collected (name) took down his opponents "they aren't my enemies, I would have to care for them to be an enemy" (name) explained when Kirishima said they were his enemies, the redhead smiling with a stupidly happy expression on his face as (name) held a trophy and a cheque of 100k, this was a huge open after all.
"(Name), could you follow me" Aizawa said calmly and (name) looked a bit confused but followed regardless as Kirishima told him he would see him later.
"What's this about?" (Name) Asked as they walked through the halls "Nedzu wants to talk to you" Aizawa said as he knocked on a door, the doors opening automatically as the rat god himself sat at his chair with a smile "please do sit, tea? I know you like your coffee black Aizawa" Nedzu said happily and (name) seemed uncomfortable as he sat down "no thank you" he said softly "congratulations on your win, I see you have never lost a match-- quite impressive"
"Thank you" (name) kept composure as Nedzu sipped his tea "now why didn't you tell us you had an intelligence quirk?"
"Because I don't? I have my grandpa's quirk, a weaker version of my mom's, I basically just have good skin"
"Then it seems you were lied to" Nedzu said looking at the teens grades "you get perfect scores at everything and you learn things at a rate no other student can achieve not to mention the chess tournament" (name) was confused and frustrated as he listened to the principal explain his quirk. "Intelligence quirks are nearly as rare as healing quirks, I am going to have to contact your family as lying about quirks is no joking matter, do you think there's a reason they may have kept this a secret?"
(Name) Knew why, it was always the same reason for everything.
So he didn't outshine his brother.
They did tests after tests, Aizawa there for it all just to make sure the principal didn't go overboard as he often tended to do "... You have indeed an intelligence quirk" Nedzu said simply and (name) felt his world crash just a little, his fears confirmed "so what happens now?"
"I would like you to attend U.A as my student" Nedzu said simply and (name) looked confused "he likes that you don't have that cockiness that those who grow up with intelligence quirks have, you have compassion" Aizawa explained simply and Nedzu nodded in agreement "perfect for a hero" not to mention he saw (name) carefully move snails and usher a mouse away from danger through the cameras, the teen though blunt and cold was willing to help anything in need.
"Why didn't you apply to U.A?" He was often asked and now when the two asked, he answered honestly.
"Because my parents didn't think I would be good enough for it" (name) said genuinely and the room grew quiet "and three people from the same school? Felt incredibly unlikely" he said awkwardly and fidgeted with the trophy in his arms "did you wish to attend?"
"Didn't everyone?"
(Name) Left the office sometime after as Kirishima was waiting with his homework in his lap on a bench just down the hall and perked up when he saw his boyfriend "it's late, do you have a parent to walk you home?" Aizawa asked the teen who shook his head, (name)s parents typically didn't pick him up and simply got him a bus pass-- hell he learned to forge their signatures just so he could do things.
Like chess opens, it's how he made his cash.
"I'll walk you home" he said simply and (name) sighed softly as Kirishima seemed excited at this "could I join sir?!" He was practically vibrating as the teacher sighed before agreeing.
"What did you do!" Mrs. Bakugo barked out angrily, seeing her son being escorted by a pro hero and a hero in training "your son is being escorted home as he had no one to do so after his chess match, crime is rising in the area so it's better to be safe than sorry"
"I see, im sorry he inconvenienced you"
"Actually, I'm also here on behalf of U.A, do you have a moment?"
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