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vanya-evergreen · 7 months ago

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How to remember.(Chapter 1)

Masterlist

Relationship: BatFam x reader (platonic)

Summary: At the age of 11, you woke up in an other world without any guidance and all the money you once lacked. You were left with only your memeories and your other memories.

You tired to remember, their life, but it seemed like they didn't want you too. So when trying to navigate the intricate sides of an elite schoo, but you always got in trouble when it came to faces and names.

Cw: brief description of gore

No use of Y/n

Wc: 5k+

A/n- Woo first post! Exciting but so nerve racking, honestly have never posted my fanfic before. So, sorry if its kinda rough, had no one to beta, bare with me please. The characters are probably OOC, since I only recently got back into DC after seeing the "do the butts match post?" from the ai voice reddit post on tik tok. But you what that's more fun anyways, right? anyway please enjoy a really really random idea

Tick tick tick tick

The room was quiet, with only a few scribbles of pens or pencils to fill the void. You resided at your desk, hunched over, while resting your face on your hand. Your eyes lazily review the assignment in front of you for the 7th time. You had finished the assignments for the day, with each answer being correct that left you with only your thoughts. Your eye twitched, turning your head slowly toward the window, while slowly moving your head from your hand to the desk. You went through your day just to try and remember, waking up, first 2 classes, all fine. Until, on your way to your current period, you ran into a younger student, probably a sophomore, maybe a junior.

You cringed silently, you were just in your mind, really your memories from both this world and your original world. When you ran into a younger student, you both fell and could only manage a quick sorry before moving on. He was barely getting to his feet when you turned away, you were so stuck in your mind that you couldn’t even offer a proper apology, let alone your hand. You can't help but think back to the faint whisper you heard as you walked away. You made a mental note to find and properly apologize to him during lunch, if you could remember what he looked like, seeing as you only really saw his keychains on his backpack as they jingled when he got up.

Your head started throbbing as you thought too much, you shut your eyes tightly, wiping your mind clean, then opening them again .You stared out the window, trying not to think much, just trying to learn to just exist. Why is existing one of the hardest things to learn? You watch the clouds clash into each other slowly creating an ocean of a scale of whites and grays. You slowly let your mind blank, even just for a moment, it was nice.

You could slowly feel your drifting off, almost like you were disconnecting from your physical body. Until the sound of mindless chatter started up in the back of the room, pencils still wrote, notably faster than before. This means the period was almost up, so that means lunch and trying to find that one guy. You sat up, collected the assignments from your desk, then got up and turned them in. You got back to your seat right as the bell rang.

You picked up your stuff and got out of there as quickly as you could, just to round the corner to be surprised by an underclassman. He had green eyes that made very uncomfortable eye contact with yours. You almost immediately looked away from his very intense glare. You side eye him and see his bag. The keychains.

“Shit” you let out under your breath as you released your present problem. Your eye drifted back to his face, he didn't look all that happy to see you. ‘definitely him’. “Hey man, listen…” you started. You felt genuinely bad about earlier, you could only imagine how big of an asshole it made you seem like.

“Who are you?” his tone was blunt, with a twinge of annoyance.

Your mind stalled, that's not what you expected him to say. You thought he would threaten you or maybe pull the ‘do you know who i am card?’ or ‘I am going to ruin your life’. You felt the hostility he emulated, you felt uneasy. You furrowed your eyebrows, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. The almost seemingly endless stream of words in your mind were stuck in your throat. “ ___ ___” you choked out with your last bit of brain cells.

“ Where are you from?” His voice shot straight through you. He gave you no time to collect your thoughts from the initial question. Your mind was scattered from how fast questions came at you. The unease in your stomach grew.

“Uh, gotham, like everyone here.” Confusion clouded your already foggy mind , ‘what did this have to do with me running into him earlier?’ “ I am sorry about earlier by the way.” you added quickly with a sorrowful expression, the cloudiness didn’t consume your intention to apologize.

“Gotha, hm, how come I have never seen any event?” he ignored your apology. ‘Okay, that's rude.’ You tried to grasp at whatever you could to respond.

“What events?” was all you could get. You felt like you were going to faint from the speed of his questions. Why did he care so much about what you did, you were just a stranger to him.

“Galas, business meetings…” he listed off different types of high end events, but you didn’t really listen after the first two. Your head was spinning, you had to try and collect the scattered pieces of your mind.

You rushed your recovery, you went from being up in your head for the last 20 minutes to being pulled down, through the earth’s crust, into a cave being interrogated by someone you have never talked to before this. ‘Who the hell is this guy?’

“I am sorry, but who are you?” You interrupted him midway through his next question, ‘that was a great idea’. “Am I meant to know you or something?” Ah yes, your most infamous line. You put your hand on your forehead, trying to rationalize this interaction. His mouth was open, he looked almost offended by your question.

“you’re joking?” he exclaimed agitated, he creased his eyebrows. You had to get out of there.

“No.“ You turn your head to the side, throwing your hands up in the air while turning your upper body away.

“ Well okay then, have you ever heard of the Waynes?” You do remember hearing about Wayne enterprise last time you went to the doctors, like when you first woke up in this world, which was like, 6 years ago, maybe. That doesn’t really matter. You had heard of it.

“The company?” you questioned. He groaned, if in relief or annoyance, that was beyond you.

“Yes, but what have you heard about the Wayne family?” he looked you square in the eyes, you turned away slowly not really saying anything. You looked guilty. “Nothing?” you nodded assuring his previous statement. Still not meeting his eye, not wanting to deal with that memory for the rest of the day. “How?”

“I don’t read the gossip columns?” You suggested with an awkward shrug and chuckle. You only now realized that there was a wall of students formed around you and him. You definitely had to get out there now.

“What? What do you mean” he was really pissed now, but you didn't even hear half of what he was saying you were just trying to find the quickest way out of here. You looked around looking for an opening within the students. You noticed one right behind him so you had to be quick about it.

“Listen, I am so sorry about being early, I didn't mean to make you fall, really.” you seemed less sincere than before, you were trying to make sure that you didn't seem rushed. “I really didn’t and if it had been any other time I would have made sure that I had offered my hand but I just wasn’t entirely aware. I am sorry, again.” You had made your way around him away around him as you talked, you maintained eye contact with him until you were able to slip in between the students. “Please forgive me, and I am sorry I couldn't answer your question adequately.”

“Wait-” you heard him shout as you speed walked away, trying to blend in with a group of students that were walking down the hallway. He, of course, saw you slip into the group and approached you. You had to think quickly, thankfully there was another group of students that was going the opposite way. You quickly slipped into another group, successfully avoiding him. You could only finally breathe when you made it to the dining hall without running into him again.

You went into the lunch line, trying to just forget whatever the hell that was. You moved through the line slowly, grabbing whatever looked appetizing today. One of the many good things about going to a rich school was that the food was edible. You were grabbing the last bit of your lunch before you felt a cold air run up your spine, you said a silent prayer in hope that it wasn’t who you thought it was. You tried not to look, Maybe if you didn’t look he would leave. You remained calm and walked with your food to the table where you sat with your friends, making sure to make yourself as unnoticeable as possible. You were able to sit down and eat most of your lunch before you felt him approach your table, you could feel a cold sweat develop on your shoulders as you took your last couple of bites.

He gradually approached, carefully looking over everyone trying to figure where you were. Your friends were having a typical conversation, what they were doing that night or where they are going to college and what they are going to study. Until one of them saw him approach. “Is that Damian Wayne approaching us, right now?” that when you realized why he was having a hard time with you early, you couldn’t recognize him or his family, but your friends, who never cared for status and the tabloid’s talk recognized him, or Damian now that you had a name to the face. You straightened up when you heard this.

Your friends looked at you strangely until they realized you were the one he was looking for, and you did not want to be found. They acted quickly. They, as naturally as possible, started to clean up. Throwing away trash, and putting away their food. They even helped you pack up, and as a group you slipped out of the dining hall into a hallway, then out into the courtyard. You would have to thank them later with some homemade baked goods. They really came to your rescue today.

You looked at your phone, 12:45. Lunch was almost over, never would have you thought that you would be grateful for that. ‘Only 5 more minutes’. Your relief was somewhat short lived as you had to now answer their question. “So, what happened?” one of them, Leah, asked flatly.

“Well you see…” You started not really wanting to talk. You looked around trying to procrastinate this conversation.

“Stop putting this off” Another one, Warren, jabbed you in your side with a pencil causing you to flinch.

“Fine…” you sighed feeling defeated, ” So, today I may have, made him fall, but I also fell.” you signed as you talked. you looked down and then back up at Wynn hoping for their pity only to be met with a vaguely threatening look to continue. “And after 3rd period he was waiting for me in the hallway and he asked who I was. I told him my name and then asked who he was because he was asking me a lot of questions.”You smiled with fear behind your eyes. They looked at you mouth agape, no one could be as out of tune with the news as you are.

‘What the hell? Did you even apologize??’ Wynn signed, they were not happy with you.

“ The fuck you mean you didn’t know him?” Leah exclaimed, grabbing onto your shoulders and shaking you very violently, making you feel sick. You knew you fucked up bad when Warren did have anything to say.

“Wynn, I did apologize!! Like 3 times too, and I am sorry I am too busy thinking of other things!” You continued to sign as you talked, trying to defend yourself. Warren and Leah were lecturing you about how stupid your actions were and Wynn was just shaking their head. You started to tune them out when you saw the door open and of course Damian came outside. You quickly got up and picked up your stuff.

“We need to finish our-” he started before being interrupted by the bell ring. Much to your luck.

“Hey, well see you guys later, I need to get to class” you waved goodbye to your friend and signed ‘please don't kill me’ to Wynn, before you ran past Damian to your 4th class, They all exchanged looks with each other before you friends quickly walked away to their own classes. You made it to your 4th period without much trouble, besides a few stares the class went perfectly, boring but fine. The next 2 classes were a mix and repeat of your 4th period, only with increasing whispers every time you walked in a class.

It was finally your 8th class, study hall, you were able to get to your normal spot without much trouble. You were even able to put in your headphones and start working on a rough draft to a machine that you were designing. You sat most of the day up until this point, so your arms always felt stiff. So you stretched your arms, only to hit something. Quickly retracting your arms back to your side, you turned around. ‘FUUUUUU-’ It was Damian. “Heyyyy.” you slowly turned back to your computer in front of you, taking off your headphones.

“Are you gonna avoid me again?” He was looming over you, you could feel the burning on top of your head from the way he glared at you. You shut your laptop and braced yourself for all the questions he was going to ask.

“No.” You shook your head, he sat down across from you. You looked anywhere but at him.

“The events, why have I never seen you?” He went straight to it.

“I don't think I am famous enough to go.” You shrugged, he raised an eyebrow at you suggesting that you were lying. You were ticked off by this. “ Listen, If I have gotten an invite, I have never seen it.” You folded your arms.

“ How did you get into this school?” You didn't really have a clear answer to this one, “I have heard about how you could never recognize people who are from well known families in Gotham, and some that were even famous by themselves.”

“A trust fund.” That was your typical go to answer, but in all honesty you didn't know. While you had some memories, a very limited amount, of this body's life, they were almost all blurry. None of them were really clear, but you could feel what they, the other you, were feeling. You could make really rough assumptions. Like you knew you had a mother (or a female figure) that you loved, and somewhere along the way she got remarried and you had step-parent up until she died. You could feel the way the memories would cause a physical reaction so you tried not to think about it too much. “And I just have never really had the mental space to pay attention to that, plus faces and names aren’t my thing.”

He wasn’t satisfied with your answers “So what? You just don't know anything about the world?”

“No, of course I pay attention to the crimes in Gotham, and the people that handle them.” This wasn’t a lie, you did pay attention to that, you even knew their names, a big honor to have, in your mind at least. You were a huge fan of them, even before- you know.

“Hm.” He slouched as he contemplated your answers, while resting his hands intertwined together maintaining eye contact with you. There was silence between you two, it was too long. You restlessly tapped your fingers on the table while resting your head on the other hand, watching him. Waiting for whatever comes next of his seeming never ended questions, but he seemed to be stumped.

“Is that it?” You broke the silence “You have everything you need to know. Right?” You straighten your back, now sitting up right. He only continued to stare. Internally you rolled your eyes before you put one of your headphones on.

You opened your laptop, quickly glancing over the blueprint for the machine. You were getting bored of this. you looked blankly at your computer screen. ‘I wonder what I can find about Damian's family.’ What a dangerous thought to have. You, with a renewed vigor, quickly opened a new search window and started simple. ‘Wayne family’ you were overwhelmed with the number of results. 2 billion. 2 billion. You understood why Damian was so shocked now. That was just for the family too; you count the profiles, 9.

First, you clicked on ‘Thomas Wayne’, you were somewhat familiar with the name. You read about the tragedy of how he died, you knew this story, you watched a true crime video on it a couple of years back. You felt it was only appropriate to make your way down the family tree so you clicked on ‘Bruce Wayne’. Of course you could assume he was Damian's father. There were links to articles about some scandal of his or how his business was doing. You read a bit further only to find out that the man adopted a lot. Like, you had wondered how he had 6 children but guess that was your answer. You were about to click on Damian's profile only to stop.

“What exactly are you doing?” So he didn’t lose his vocal cords. You snapped out of your trance by his voice.you realized how funky what you just did was.You felt a bit like a creep now, searching up his family in front of him was not the best idea.

You coughed clearing your throat “Why do you care?” You tried to keep an even voice.

“You were staring so intently at your computer that it almost looked like you were planning something.” He leaned back with his arms folded.

“Well,” You closed your search tab later, planning on continuing to research (basically stalk) them later. “I am working on a machine.” You ignored the underlying implication that you were possibly evil. You pulled up the blue prints and math for the machine and turned it around to show him.

“What does it do?” His glare intensified.

“It’s meant to be a multi-dimensional portal, of sorts.” This was the truth. “It's more of a concept than anything.” This was a lie. “I have to make this for my engineering class, we have an assignment where we make up a theoretical invention and try to come up with a way to make them real” Another truth.

“Interesting,” he became more vigilant, yet interested because of your words. “And have you figured it out?”

“No, and if I did it probably wouldn’t work,” much to your dismay. “This assignment is more about how well we can explain our logic than the actual realism of it.”

“Oh,” You couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or disappointed. “Well you must enjoy the class if you are putting this much work into it.”

“Yep ,” you said through slightly gritted teeth. You didn’t mind the class, in fact you would’ve loved it, if you were still in your original word. “I guess.” You smiled tightly, turning your laptop back around. “So what about you? Do you have a favorite class?” Your smile shifted from tight and sharp to curved and soft, this was classic. You did this when you were trying to shift the attention away from something you didn’t want to discuss. You could almost see him relax, ever so slightly, but still he’s coming around. Maybe.

“Art” his arms were still folded, but his eyes didn’t seem so analytical or hostile. While it wasn’t a lot it was better than what you had gotten out of him from most of the conversation.

“Really, would you be willing to show me some of your pieces?” you asked ever so politely.

“Why would I show you?” And there is the defensiveness.

“Because I showed you my blueprints.” your smile faltered for a moment only to return within a second, you looked back to your laptop.

“Right,” his arms were more loosely folded. “Still I don't have too.” his arms tighten back up again.

“That is true,” you nodded in agreement, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing them, but that's your choice.” You weren’t going to force him to do anything, it wasn’t your job. He was quiet. You peered over your laptop to see what was going on. He looked at you, eyes wide, arms barely folded. He looked like a cat after finding something interesting. “What?”

“Nothing.” He returned to his vigilante mood. You shrugged it off and continued to work on your draft. He continued to observe you, you continued to work. You both stayed this way for a while’ it was like you were in a mental battle with him, a really one-sided one. You didn’t really have any intention of resuming the conversation.

The silence was very welcomed. It allowed you to get your work done, you would’ve been done in 30 minutes if he didn’t show up. The silence was interrupted but the sound of a zipper opening. You didn’t look up from your laptop; slowly a sketch book came into your peripheral. You glanced at it, with a bit of hesitation you reached for it. Closing and sliding your laptop to the side, replacing it with the sketch book. you opened the cover and started going through the sketch book carefully. While had only shifted the conversation to get the heat off of you, you were nicely surprised with his talent.

The sketches in the beginning were good, in quality. They were all of different gorey situations, from a man having his head torn apart, to a woman with her skin falling off, it said something about his childhood, but that was his therapist's job to decide what this said. The theme changed after a few more pages of graphics images, which had become much less violent. There were first a few of just some plants, they were nice but not as nice as the first bug you saw, you could deduct that he had real references to base them off of. You flipped through the page, seeing pages full of multiple individual sketches, to pages of only one, fully detailed, landscapes. WIth some gore but it was far fewer than before .

You could see his improvement. They were good to begin with but they were too focused on the bigger image, they were missing something. You felt like he figured whatever he was missing, this was shown in the recurring dog, Titus, or that's what he labeled the drawing. You flipped through a few more pages, mostly animals and plants, until you saw the first human sketch that wasn’t a subject of a horrific act. You had seen the face only 20 minutes prior, it was Bruce Wayne, but he wasn’t wearing his playboy smile, he wasn’t even smiling. It was only a headshot but you could tell he wasn’t present in his mind. He was wearing a thoughtful look, a distant look.

You looked over the page more carefully now, there was still an overall theme of live studies of plants and animals, with some small landscapes, but there was new addition with people now, they were all labeled with their names, you roughly could recalled some of them from early search on his family, they were greatly detail, they all seem to show some sort of part of their personality, their real personalities. Not the public image they upheld but who they really were. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking at this, but you think he would’ve stopped you if he didnt want you seeing this. You turned more pages, he had improved a lot, he had not only found what he was missing, but more. Every drawing and sketch, you left no drawing unseen.

You stopped at one page, it was a full page dedicated to a family portrait, or a sketch of one. The portrait was the formal ones you were used to. They were casual clothes, no one was looking straight forward. No poses, no one sitting, nor was their hair combed neatly. It looked like just a family out and about. They all seemed so close, it seemed to be more of a wish than a reality but you were not close to him so maybe it was his reality. You looked over the page a final time before turning to the page. The rest of the sketchbook was architecture and landscapes with sprinkles of animals that you assumed were his pets. The talent he had was special, you would honestly tell him that he should pursue art, even if just on the side.

You slid it to Damian. “You have some real talent.” You expressed with a calm tone.

“I know.” He stated as if it was a known fact. You choked on the air in your throat trying to hold back your laughter. He held a blank expression, he wasn’t cocky, if he was he would be smiling.

“I am glad that you see it,” You look at your phone, 5 minutes before school ends, “I always get annoyed when people try to deflect praise.” You closed your laptop and put it into your bag. “I think it's a waste of time, it's just an attempt to seem humble” you secured your bag to your back, “but that’s kinda hypocritical of me to say, don't you think?” The bell rings.

“Yes it is.” he agrees, nodding his head.

“By the way, what class did you skip to talk to me?” There was no way he had study hall this period.

“Well,” he paused. He just stood there not really wanting to answer you, you chuckled. He wasn’t happy that you laughed at him.

“Alright, good to know. Anyways, have a good day.” You walk away, still chuckling. before leaving through the door, you turned back, looking at him “Feel free to show me more art if you ever choose to.” You gave him a wide grin as you span around on your heel and continued to walk away with the typical bounce in your step. You didn't see his reaction, but it didn’t matter. You were able to get away from him without him asking you anymore questions you wouldn’t have been able to answer.

The hallway was crowded, a sea of students were either trying to head home or back to their dorms. You got through it quickly as you had taken to the window method, where if you see an opening in between students, you take it. Something seemed off today, well more off than normal. You didn’t pay attention to that. You made it to the front of the school and found your driver waiting for you, you waved and smiled before getting in and heading home.

Damian wasn’t sure how to feel about this, or he couldn’t pinpoint how he felt. You were so nice but he was suspicious of you. I mean, wouldn’t you be too? You were rich enough to go to Gotham academy. Which was known for being a school for the elite, yet he couldn’t connect you to any of the elite families. You also didn’t know any other elite family, especially the Wayne's. A founding family of Gotham, and always had something going around on the news. It's like you just dropped on to the face of the earth randomly when you were 11.

He had already pulled your file from both cityhall and the school. Your school record was almost squeaky clean, only one instant of a fight that was deemed not your fault and bullying targeted towards you. Your city record only showed that you were an orphan with no listed legal guardian and that you have lived in the same penthouse for almost 7 years, near old Gotham. “No named father and mother is dead” he read his notes out loud. “What the fu-”

“Master Damian.” Alfred was standing in the doorway with a steamed suit for this weekend's gala. “Excuse the intrusion, I just came to put your formal suit away and say that Master Bruce is ready for patrol.”

“Thank you Alfred,” Damian gathered the pages, straightened them, and put everything into a file. He placed it to the side for later.

“Also,” Alfred continued to speak as he hung Damians suit in his closet. “I got a call from the school” Damian stopped and looked at him. Damian’s eyes followed Alfred as he walked towards the door. “Master bruce doesn’t know, yet, but I wouldn't recommend doing that again” Alfred warned him as he shut the door. Damian was glad Alfred would keep his secret, even if just for this once.

Damian heads down to the Batcave. He was still annoyed, he hated how easily he could let his guard falter so easily around you. You were too nice to a practical stranger. He thought, no, he knew that there was something up with you. There is no one still this decent in Gotham, not in the city where they needed a rich family to handle their criminal problem, or where there seems to be a S-level threat every couple of months. You simply could not exist in a city like this.

He passed many large frames with paintings, he never really paid attention to them, like he would be now. There were points where there were smaller frames with photos and he looked over at just the right time to see a very familiar face. He stared for a moment before continuing to walk but much faster now. After he was suited up, he met his father as he was sitting at the computer.

“Damian.” Bruce greeted him, still reading over files pulled up on the screen. Damian to a quick read over the files, it was a missing boy’s case. Probably kidnapped and being held for ransom or maybe because her parents did know something they shouldn’t.

“Father.” Damian replied. He eyed his father, he wanted to ask straight up but he knew his father would easily hide his reaction if he did so directly. So he waited for the question he typically hated disliked answering.

“How was school today?” Bruce was never the most attentive father but he tried, this was one of his few ways of trying to stay in tune with his children's lives. Damian would always say mostly the same thing ‘unchallenging’ or something along those lines. But tonight was different.

“Fine, but I met this person today,” Damian said.

“Oh really” Bruce raised an eyebrow and turned his chair around to face him, Damian has never mentioned meeting someone before. “Who are they?”

“___ ___, they are a senior.” Bruce tensed for a second at the mention of your name. That was all Damian needed to see from him. Bruce, of course, regained his composure within milliseconds.

“Hm, good to hear” Bruce almost mumbled. “I hope they are nice.” He turned back to the computer. Damian was a bit smug about getting that reaction from his father, what a long night it was going to be for Bruce.

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avonne-writes · 5 months ago

Text

High School AU - Timeline

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Year 9 Of High School

The boys meet on their first day of high school

Gale's growing out his hair to rebel against his dad

Bucky's eager to find new friends because Brady is the only one he knows

They're seated next to each other in one of their classes and become friends

They both think the other is cute and develop crushes on each other quickly

Bucky tells Brady and his mom everything about his crush

Gale doesn’t dare believe that Bucky likes him, he thinks they're just friends

Daydreams

But the way things develop during Christmas and New Year's Eve get his hopes up

Bucky makes a resolution to ask him out

They go on their first date in January

You don’t need wings to fly (drabble about their third date)

dive for dreams - chapter 1

Happiness, you’re a cat - part 1

Their relationship develops, but Gale keeps his family issues a secret, sometimes even lying

They fight about it and break up

But, upon his mom's (Georgia's) encouragement, Bucky approaches Gale again and they make up. Gale tells Bucky about his parents

Gale sleeps over at the Egans' place for the first time

Early relationship headcanons

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Year 10 Of High School

Someone catches them kissing in September (drabble - Truth or dare) and spreads the rumour around school

Since Bucky already wanted to come out anyway, he’s not worried or anything, and convinces Gale that it's fine

Bucky kisses Gale in the middle of the hallway

Bryan ("RAF prick" in the show) and his friends try to bully both of them but mostly Gale since he’s not on any popular sports team

Bucky and Curt track them down and get into a fistfight

Bucky gets suspended for a few days

dive for dreams - chapter 2

Gale gets mad at Bucky for drawing attention to them, but the bullying stops not too long after that fight

The boys get braver with the PDA over the course of the year

They also start exploring sexual intimacy gradually - Hands-on Biology

Around May or so, Georgia does a motorcycle course and meets Neil (Harding)

Bucky and Gale have their first time at the end of May/beginning of June

dive for dreams - chapter 3

They keep exploring new things about intimacy during the summer, taking advantage of having the house to themselves a bit more often because Georgia goes out with Neil

Nsfw headcanons

morning after drabble

Georgia introduces Neil to the boys. It takes some time but they warm up to him eventually

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Year 11 Of High School

The school year starts really well, it's a very happy period for them. Gale stays over every Saturday night, sometimes other nights too.

Gale has a platonic crush on a teacher

Lunch Break

Sweet Tooth

Gale spends Christmas Day and Boxing Day with Bucky and his family, including extended family

Words of Wisdom

Towards the end of spring, Gale’s dad relapses again and ends up in alcohol rehab. It really messes with Gale's emotions.

Gale starts going to the school psychologist, but his mental health gets worse. He develops the habit of going out alone in the evening and spends a lot of time in random parks, public libraries and the pool, when he's not with Bucky.

dive for dreams - chapter 4

Gale's dad comes out of rehab and promises to stay sober. The summer goes relatively well, Gale feels momentarily better

Gale bonds with Neil and asks him to teach him how to ride a motorbike

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Year 12 Of High School

Around October, Gale’s dad relapses again and physically abuses Gale

Broken Things (Gale almost commits suicide)

Bucky tries to help him cover up his bruises with his mom's makeup - drabble by @swifty-fox

Georgia and Neil talk to Gale, then also to his mom and get everyone to agree to Gale moving in with Bucky and Georgia

Gale has an emotional moment with his mom when they move his things

Georgia figures out a way to get Gale a therapist outside of school

Silence (Bucky and Gale talk about death)

Gale and Bucky get into arguments sometimes because Gale needs more space due to his vulnerable situation, but Bucky's triggered fear of abandonment wants to keep him close at all times. The fact that high school is coming to an end soon exacerbates it.

Gale and Georgia have an argument

dive for dreams - chapter 5

Gale's 18th birthday (drabble)

Gale starts getting better. He gets his motorcycle driver's license in secret, conspiring with Neil. He also starts working part-time to save up.

He offers Georgia to pay for his own food but he ends up with another long conversation where Georgia tries to make him understand that she does this for him out of love and doesn’t want him to feel like he owes her.

Conversely, Bucky starts getting worse as the end of the school year approaches. He’s scared that he’s going to lose Gale because they will be going to college. He gets really clingy and irrational.

Leaving

What touches linger by @hogans-heroes

Mid-spring, Gale borrows a bike from Neil and takes Bucky on a surprise date. They end up sitting in the grass somewhere and have a serious talk about the future. Gale tells Bucky that he needs to do something about his attachment issues. Bucky agrees, feeling bad, but reassured about their college plans.

Pre-prom drabble

They go to prom together:

Prom night drabble

They spend the summer hanging out with their friends

They get into different colleges but in the same city.

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First Year of College

Gale cuts his hair. To him, it's not just a sign of change but a symbol of his freedom from his father's dark shadow

He and Bucky move in together into a small apartment

Gale switches to calling Bucky John because it carries more emotion and connection to him

Although they’ve been living together since the previous fall, this is different, and only now do they learn a lot of things about each other. Like how bad Gale is at decoration, what triggers him and what bothers Bucky

There’s a lot of friction between them during their first semester, and they get close to breaking up, but eventually, they start communicating the right way and address their biggest problems

Basically, their relationship needs to shift into a mature adult relationship. It takes some time but they succeed (see - college transition headcanons + sexual issues headcanons)

dive for dreams - chapter 6

Gale blossoms at university

He and Bucky enter a steady and happy phase in their lives.

Gale wearing Bucky's soccer jersey

Later Life

Bucky faces the source of his fear of abandonment - his father

Happiness, you’re a cat - part 2 (when they’re 21)

Bucky asks Gale to marry him after their 3rd year of college - my world, my true

They get married about a year later. (wedding headcanons)

Gale studies Physics and does part of his Master's/doctorate course abroad. He and Bucky call almost every day, but Bucky still misses him a lot. (some headcanons about this, + more headcanons)

Later, Bucky claims that their reunion at the end of the programme was almost as happy as their wedding day.

Gale dedicates his PhD thesis to Bucky.

Georgia and Neil get married and she takes his name.

Headcanons about the boys' jobs after university

When they're 30, Gale has something of a mid-life crisis because Bucky realizes that having kids is more important to him than he originally thought.

During the above situation, their relationship gets really tense and strained, and they fight a lot. Gale antagonizes Bucky. (argument headcanons, more headcanons about their fight)

However, they do figure it out eventually, and they build a happy future together.

A few thoughts about their last moments together.

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A/N:

Thank you if you got this far! 🩷 This timeline post will be continuously updated as new stories and drabbles are posted. It will be linked in my masterpost.

TLDR - Chronological Reading Order:

Daydreams

You don’t need wings to fly

dive for dreams - chapter 1

Happiness, you’re a cat - part 1

First sleepover

Truth or dare

dive for dreams - chapter 2

Hands-on Biology

dive for dreams - chapter 3

morning after drabble

Lunch Break

Sweet Tooth

Words of Wisdom

dive for dreams - chapter 4

Broken Things

swifty-fox's drabble

Silence

dive for dreams - chapter 5

Gale's 18th birthday drabble

Leaving

What touches linger by hogans-heroes

pre-prom drabble

prom night drabble

dive for dreams - chapter 6

Short college morning drabble

Happiness, you’re a cat - part 2

my world, my true

Thank you so much for reading this AU! You can find more headcanons on my blog under #hs au 😊

Moodboards and gifs 💕

Gifset by @carnevol

Moodboard by @hogans-heroes

Moodboard by @bucking-mustangs-with-wings

Fanart by @swifty-fox

#mota #buck x bucky #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #hs au #hs au timeline #will be updated after each new fic #🥰🥰#i hope this is helpful!#this took me such a long time 🙈

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yeaimsafiya · 8 months ago

Text

CHAPTER ONE back from rehab

SYNOPSIS the beginning of a teenage girl named y/n who is fresh out of rehab but doesn't intend to stay clean.

FROM THE WRITER AHH IM SORRY IM LATE GUYS!! This is the first chapter I'm ever writing, I took some inspo from episode 1 but I'm going to have to cut each episode into fourths because I really don't want to spend a whole week trying to finish a whole episode and school work. But I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter as much as I did - Love you guys, Sapiyah <3

WARNINGS Lots of unnecessary writing, female! reader, mentions of drugs and drinking, strong sexual content, nudity, violence, adult content, adult language, scenes might be uncomfortable for some, some scenes might include mentions of mental illness'

SERIES EUPHORIA

CHARACTERS INCLUDED members of the bakusquad & dekusquad, big three(?), some characters of class 1A

NOTES MDNI! Ageless blogs will be blocked or removed.

Readers discretion is advised

Suddenly, the whole world goes dark and nothing else matters except the person standing in front of you.

You were once happy. Content.

Sloshing and swimming around your own private, primordial pool; Then one day, for reasons beyond your control, you were continuously and repeatedly crushed...

Over..and over.. again by the cervix of your mother, M/n.

You put up a good fight, but eventually lost, for the first time, but not the last.

You were born 3 days after 9/11, your mother and father spent two days in the hospital, holding you under the soft glow of the television, watching those towers fall over and over again, until the feeling of grief gave away to numbness.

And then, without warning, a middle-class childhood in the American suburbs.

You were sitting at the dinner table with your mother, M/n, and Father, F/n. But it appeared something else had gotten your attention, a set of numerous lights above the dinner table, in which you wanted to count.

"Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen.."

" What are you looking at y/n?"

"..."

"What are you doing? ..Y-y/n look at me."

"One, two, three, .."

"What are you doing Y/n?"

*cries*

"Id say she's suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder..."

Its not like you were physically abused..

"...attention deficit disorder..."

..Or had some type of clean water storage..

"..general anxiety disorder.."

..Or was molested by a family member.

"..and possibly bipolar disorder. But she's a little bit too young to tell."

So, explain this shit to me.

"Honey, it's just the way your brain was hardwired; Plenty of great, intelligent, funny, interesting and creative people have struggled with the same things you struggle with."

"Like who?"

"Vincent Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, and even Brittney Spears, your favorite!"

You haven't remembered much from the ages of eight to twelve. Just that the world moved fast, and your mind moved slow.

"Does anyone have an idea of what a perception might be?"

And every now and then, if you focused on the way you breathed...

You'd die.

"Slow down, just breathe"

Until every second of the day, you'd find yourself trying to outrun your anxiety.

"What's wrong Y/n?"

..And quite frankly..

"I'm just fucking exhausted"

Coming down to the kitchen, you could hear the small talk between your mother and younger sister, S/N.

"You said the doctor was in our network. How can he suddenly be out of network?"

"I can't afford it."

"Did you see that video of the girl who got acid thrown at her face?"

"What? No.."

"It's pretty fucked up.."

"Mom do you know where the tampons are?"

"In my bathroom, right under the sink."

And at one point, you'd make a choice of who you are and what you want.

"Alright Gia, let's go"

"Why do the co-payments cost $300?"

"Y/n did you eat breakfast?"

".."

"What's with the glasses?"

"What glasses?"

You just happened to show up one day, without a map or a compass..

"Attention students, we need to lockdown."

..Or to be honest, anyone capable of giving on iota of good fucking advice.

And I know it all seems sad but guess what? You did not build this system up, nor fuck it up yourself.

But then it happens. That moment where your breath starts to slow. And every time you breathe, you breathe out all the oxygen you have.

Then everything stops: Your heart, your lungs, then finally, your brain. And everything you feel, you wish, and want to forget, it all just sinks.

And then suddenly... you give it air again, give it life again.

You remember the first time it happened, where you were so scared you wanted to call 911. Go to the hospital and be kept alive by machines and apple juice. But you didn't want to look like an idiot, and you didn't want to fuck up everyone else's night.

And now overtime, that's all you've wanted.. those two seconds of nothingness.

You spent a good portion of summer before junior year in rehab. God granted you the serenity to accept things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

"Y/N," your sister yelled from afar, greeting you after your long leave. You smiled, and whilst running up to her, tried to continue the conversation with your younger sibling.

"Hey, Come here!"

"How are you?"

"Good, I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Look at you, are you growing?"

"No."

Looking over, you see your mother standing by your family car.

"Hey," you yelled out to her, only to receive a small smile from her.

And with that. you knew it was your time to go.

"I'm very happy for you Y/n. You're about to start a brand-new chapter," Your mother says while driving you and your sister to school. You looked at her with a smile, then turned your attention back to the car window.

You had no intentions of staying clean. And yet, Jirou just moved into town.

"There's some new girl in town that I think you'll be friends with," Shoto said, with you standing beside him in his store.

"Who?"

"Shit, I don't know. She came in looking all punk rock and shit; So I'm thinking to myself, like, 'look like somebody Y/n would be friends with'."

Which was sort of a dead-on observation for Shoto, who's not normally revolving in the same direction as planet earth.

"So how long have you been back?" He asked.

"About five days."

"And how are you feeling?"

"I mean, ever since I gave my life over to my lord and savior Jesus Christ, things have been, like, really good."

"Word? That's what's up," You chuckled at his snarky remark, giving him a small smile.

"I'm fucking with you," you said whilst laughing, "It was a joke."

"Shit, hey, I don't judge," he defended, hands raising to just above his chest.

"But for real, is Deku in the back?"

"Are you serious?" Shoto questioned, seeming very disappointed in you.

"What, you think cause' I went to rehab I stayed clean?"

"I mean, ain't that the point?" he asks.

"Yeah, well, the world is coming to an end, and I haven't even graduated high school yet."

You gave Shoto one more smile before going to Deku, whilst Shoto stared at you the entire way there; There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but since you were too busy looking for Deku, you didn't see.

You opened one of the doors of the refrigerators, leading you right to him with a bowl of fruit loops,"I thought your ass was dead," he said one he saw your appearance.

"And I thought you had Asperger's till I realized your just a prick," you barked back.

"This a fickle industry, y'all come and go. I'm just trying to stack my cash, pay off our mortgage," he said while pulling out a bunch of plastic bags out of a microwave.

"So what the fuck do you want?" You gave him a knowing look before he handed you needed.

"You sure you don't want to try something new?" He asks you.

"Like what?"

"2C-T-2, 2C-T-7, and 5-MeO-DIPT."

"I'm sorry I have no fucking idea of what you just said."

"It doesn't matter," he stated, "but this shit, is fucking lit."

"What is it?"

"N-diisopropyl-5-methoxytryptamine. It's a fast-acting psychedelic."

Got some similarities to LSD, but with, like, key differences. Not as visual as shit, but definitely a sense distorter.

"What's wrong?" That same dark purple hair girl questioned.

"I'm just so happy," you responded back.

"I don't know, this shits been going off in Tampa, and mad people like to fuck with this," Deku continued on with his descriptions with the drug.

"Okay. Yeah, why not."

"That'll be 120."

"Oh uh, Shoto said he'd spot me."

"Shoto doesn't spot nobody."

"Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him."

"I will go ask him, cause' I know your full of shit."

Those were the last words he said before you walked out. Those were the last words you heard before you saw the same two boys in freshman year.

Bakugo and Kirishima.

TAGLIST: (send an ask or reply to add or remove) @urinejaeger, @saturxnn, @lv9su, @minnipe, @flamgosstuff, @lilrockzstar, @actfsgxcv, @lovebuggyboo, @russochild19, @iits-lexie, @mendez5657, @animatronicrat, @thirstygorl, @scrittynotfound, @pleaseleavemebelol, @thymebread, @cocojellie, @vxnanaaa-blog, @tn-johnson, @knotatwink, @hpttstears, @blackcatluna, @queennb-123, @nndntahg

All work is subject to copyright by © yeaimsapiyah as of 2024.

Do not steal, use or reupload my work without given permission or my consent. If so, you will either be blocked, removed, or reported.

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kerokerokook · 1 year ago

Text

the rebound girl: chapter two

pairing: nerd pro-gamer jeongguk x reader

word count: 25.5k wtf

warnings for this chapter: oc just goes for it, jeongguk is hot as usual, lots of kissing, finally some smut, first time, virgin jk!, subby jk! with dom! reader at first but that changes, oral (m. receiving), oral fixation, fingering, jeongguk does the lower stomach trick from tiktok (iykyk), he's a little shit but it's okay.

other tags: lots of overthinking, oc goes back and forth a whole bunch (she's confused and hurt ok), jeongguk is a giant MF green flag (obvi), vmin and 2yeon being chaotically gay ofc, some brief physics mentioned, a bit of angst, oc has been hurt in her teen years.

a/n: sorry this took 9 million years but ya girl just got into her masters program!! hopefully, i can update this once/twice a month? maybe even more but, that's the plan!

enjoy :)

<3 mal

original post

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The first day of school hit you in the face like a speeding fourteen-wheel truck.

Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration because you’ve known the date since the beginning of summer break but time flew by so quickly that you couldn’t believe September was starting and another school year was too.

Soon, you’ll graduate and get a job and move on from all of the shit you’ve gone through to become a whole adult. It’s terrifying yet exciting all at once.

Fortunately, you picked out your outfit last night: baggy blue jeans, a white cropped tank top and an oversized black corduroy button up shirt. It’s simple and comfy which you always prefer for school outfits. Simple gold jewelry sits on your neck and in your ears and you keep your hair back with a clear claw clip. You keep your makeup light, being that you’ll be back home in a few hours where you’ll just slip back into your pajamas and do nothing for the rest of the day.

While packing your things, you make sure to tuck Jeongguk’s t-shirt that you’ve washed and his umbrella into your backpack, then give Snowball her last few pets for the day while checking her food and water bowl.

“I’ll be back in a few hours cutie,” you coo, scratching underneath her chin. Her head tilts up, a content smile on her cute face, eyes shut while pushing into your touch.

Adopting Snowball sort of just happened. You were lonely last Winter break after a guy you met in your Economic Growth Seminar had moved on and your mom was talking about how your neighbor’s cat just had a litter of kittens. Thankfully, your landlord was okay with pets and boom, there was a little fluff ball making your day better little by little. After a long day, there was nothing you liked doing more than stroking her soft fur and listening to music or throwing a movie on while she purrs right next to you. She’s a great comfort to you and your friends love her too.

Tearfully, you rip yourself away from your little baby and step outside of your comfortable apartment. The hallway is empty at this time. Your building has mostly college students and a few bachelors and bachelorettes here and there so it’s surprising that no one else is walking out at the same time as you. But that’s fine. No polite greetings necessary. You put your headphones in, play some music and begin your trek to school.

Living one subway ride away from university is a privilege. It never takes you that long to get to class and it’s easy to get back home. It’s the best thing about living here.

Plus in the springtime, the blossoms decorate the streets with little pink petals and it’s a sight to see.

On the way down the subway steps, you check your schedule once more just to be sure of your class load today. You have a 9am lecture, then an 11:30am lecture and then a discussion at 1:45 but those only start the second week of school every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you have classes from 8am-3pm which sounds like ass now that you think about it.

Fuck, were you drunk when you selected these courses?

You shake your head. Whatever, not like there’s much you can do now, right? At least you’ll be busy so less time to mess around.

Your walk down the steps continues and you shove your phone into your jean pocket as you rush over to make the train before your first class, taking out your metro-card.

After dodging some lethargic businessmen and starstruck tourists, you manage to reach the train with a few seconds to spare. There’s a towards the back so you quickly walk over and grab the handle when there’s a vibration against your ass.

Confused, you pull your phone out. It’s probably a tiktok sent to you by Jeongyeon of a cat with a funny filter on or something but the screen shows the message icon and you use FaceID to unlock your phone to see who the sender was.

It’s a text from Jeongguk.

jeon jeongguk

hey

do you want to give me the stuff outside the engineering building?

maybe around 1?

by stuff i mean my shirt and umbrella

You smile to yourself. The fact that he felt the need to explain what he meant by stuff is unbelievably adorable to you.

sure, i’ll be there :)

You almost wonder what Jeongguk’s schedule is like but you stop yourself quickly. You tried to not to think too much about him on Sunday when you got back. It was enough that his sweet smelling shirt was on your body and you still had the lingering imprint of his hug on your skin but now that you know he goes to the same school, you’ll become more interested and you can’t. Jeongguk isn’t going to be the next boy to occupy your mind.

This year is going to be different. You won’t be the rebound girl anymore, you won’t sleep with guys from your school, and you won’t give in.

After everything that went down with Wooshik, it’s just better for you to distance yourself from this stupid label of rebound girl. It’s done nothing but hurt you and worsen your relationship with the people in your department. First year you were hanging out and eating with them and now all you have are Nayeon and Jeongyeon. Not that you don’t like them but you just hate what being the rebound girl has done to your college life.

Your mother used to say your college years are your prime years to be young and stupid and learn about life.

But college is nothing special to you. The classes are harder, people are smarter, meaner, better, and all you can do is push yourself to do the best that you can. Sometimes it’s enough, sometimes it isn’t. Your friends are great and you’ve made some good memories, but so far, college isn’t that coming-of-age life lesson that your mother always talked about.

You’re not particularly upset about it. You just wished you could do more. Live your life without eyes all over you and whispers at every mistake.

As the train lets you off at your spot, you make sure to triple check your schedule for the day so you know where you’re going after your first class.

9am is your Macroeconomics lecture in the Economics building which is fine. Your professor is nice and the class seems interesting enough that you know you’ll do well. Mostly test based which won’t be a problem because economics is your thing. You’ve been studying it diligently for three years now so you can confidently say that.

But 11:30 is your worst nightmare: physics.

This is all your fault. Nayeon told you to get all of your general education requirements out of the way quickly your first and second year so that you wouldn’t have to worry about them later but you didn’t listen.

Look, science is simply not your thing. High school courses were hell on earth thanks to your asshole of a Chemistry teacher. You managed to gaslight yourself into thinking math was easy enough as long as you studied like a mad person and got those requirements out of the way but science is hell on earth for you. Your university requires one life science and two physical sciences. Life science was an easy choice: zoology. You got to learn about cute animals and watch videos about them. First semester of your first year was easy.

Then you decided to take Geology for physical science during your second semester. It sounded easy but memorizing all of those different rock formations was starting to wear you out from the inside. Somehow you managed a B. And after that, it was either meteorology, astronomy, or some form of physics since every other course required you to be enrolled in the Physical Sciences department or have some prerequisite that you didn’t want to take. None of the options sounded appealing to you so you put it off until now. Then, when the realization hit that you had only one more year after this to make up for all of those credits, you decided astronomy might be the best choice after reading some professor reviews.

Only for you to sleep through registration and wake up in a frenzy to find the class completely full.

Yeah, you almost started crying.

So physics it was and, how wonderful, the only class available was with an unlikeable teacher that has a horrible rating. Amazing.

Panic floods your system as you walk into the large lecture hall. You aim for a seat in the middle, take out your supplies, and start diligently listening. Your professor is a stout, sad, little man who is trying to improve his professor score online so thankfully, he says he’s going to be more lenient when it comes to tests but demands that homework be turned in on time otherwise points will be deducted. Fair enough. You could do that.

But then he starts going into course material.

Energy; alright.

Motion; cool.

Thermodynamics; okay.

Optics; excuse me?

Electromagnetism; sound the alarms.

This class is going to kill you. Even if it’s Physics 1 and your class is filled with mostly underclassmen, you know you won’t grasp the concepts easily with all of your other classes weighing down on your head. There’s so much to do and so little time to do it all.

“.. previous students of mine have so graciously offered tutoring hours so if any of you are confused, I highly recommend meeting up with them and going over concepts. They have taken my tests before so they know what to expect. It is the best way to ensure you do well.”

Most of the students behind you have gone to sleep or started scrolling through their phones but you have a lightbulb moment.

Perfect, okay. All you have to do is check the list of tutors online and schedule appointments with them. Shouldn’t be that bad. Another thing to be strict about.

This is just what you wanted: a tight enough schedule to keep you too busy to think about anything else.

Once class is over, you pack all of your things and check your phone once more. Jeongguk said he’d be outside the engineering building which is close to the physical sciences building. The time reads 12:50pm so you have some time to make your way outside.

So far, the first day has ended and it’s gone pretty well. You’ll go back home, create a strict study table on your Notion, rent all of your books and then relax for the rest of the day. Then the rest of this week should be smooth sailing as you get into the groove with your new professors. Nayeon and Jeongyeon are going to meet you at your place for home-cooked dinner this Friday( a little first week back tradition) which you’re excited for. You should look up some recipes and make sure Nayeon stays out of your kitchen so she won’t blow anything up. That girl is incapable of not making a disaster in the kitchen.

You sigh through your nose, studying the sights you see on campus. Various students walking in small triplets or duos. The occasional lone wolf with headphones on to block out the world. Some clubs are putting up posters or setting up tables to grab first years as they explore campus. The path that is currently running outside the STEM buildings break off into various courtyards and cafes where students of all departments come to chill or cut through to go to their other classes.

It’s about to be a great scenic walk just until you run into Wooshik and his buddies as they’re exiting a café with drinks in their hands.

Kill me now.

You pause like a deer in headlights when you make eye contact with him, stopping midway so your lips can part as your entire body goes stuff.

Now, more than anything, you really wish you were walking with someone.

“Hey,” Wooshik forces out, crossing his arms over his chest. His polo shirt is open enough to show a random cluster of dark hickeys from the middle of his throat to the beginning of his chest. Real subtle.

Before seeing that, you were thinking about apologizing but now, not so much.

“Hi,” your tone is short. You can feel eyes dance over your body, the swell of your breasts and the sliver of skin revealed between your crop top and pants from one of his creepy pals behind him and you have half a mind to kick him in the balls.

Wooshik’s eyes bounce back and he juts his face forward like he’s waiting for you to say something to him but you keep your lips perfectly sealed. If he wants an apology, he can wait until he’s dead. His other friends exchange weird looks at the lack of conversation going on between you two, probably wondering if this standoff is going to linger forever.

It makes you wonder what Wooshik told them.

Guys love having their ego fluffed. If they get rejected by a girl, they’ll tell their best friends that she was an ugly slut or they’ll flip the story to say that they rejected her to save face. The last thing they want their friends to know is that a girl rejected them. It dims their coolness. However, you really don’t give a fuck about Wooshik looking cool in front of his boys. If anything, you revel in the cutting deflation he’ll feel when you tell them the truth.

“Did you get the wine out of your shirt?” You ask innocently. “I should’ve aimed it more towards your face and less towards your clothes.” Shrugging, a satisfied smile grows on your lips.

Wooshik’s ears turn red. “I–” he cuts eye contact as his friends snicker behind him. You watch in satisfaction as his expression changes from surprised to annoyed to angry. “You know what, fuck you. You ruined my shirt. I had to take that hot waitress back to my place instead of a hotel so I didn’t reek of wine.”

You scoff immediately. “Damn and I was trying to do her a favor. But congrats, looks like you got your tiny dick wet for two minutes.” You start to clap. One of his friends chokes back a splutter of laughter at the jab.

Wooshik wasn’t anything amazing but you sort of expected that. Most of your hookups are satisfactory. They get the job done and they give up. As stupid as it sounds, you’ve always gone above and beyond to pleasure someone. There’s something amazing about making your partner feel good but most men see sex in a selfish lens.

For most guys, sex means sticking their dick in and sloshing it around a few times until they feel good. Boom, sex over.

Now, if they want to make you feel good, it still won’t be about you. Orgasms are like points. They don’t get off on your pleasure but more on the fact that they’re so amazing at sex that you experienced pleasure. Another way to fluff their egos.

For once, you’d wish for a guy to actually care about you and your pleasure in an unselfish way, the same way you do for them.

Wooshik stumbles for a moment but he jumps back quickly to get you too. Especially with all of his boys watching.

“You didn’t seem to complain about it at first. What, changed your mind because I didn’t want you anymore?”

Oh, please. A plastic vibrator has done more for you than he ever will.

You laugh sardonically. “No, I just felt bad for you.” You say it wholeheartedly and it's the most truthful you’ve ever been with him.

His friends then burst into giggles and snickers, shoving him around when he fails to retort, left dumbfounded by the sheer audacity of you but you don’t care. You don’t get to see the look on Wooshik’s face but you don’t care. The laughter is your cue to leave him.

That chapter of your life is over now and you won’t ever have to deal with him again. The last man you’ll let trample all over you the minute you show them some sympathy.

All you can hope is that the pesky nickname that’s been poisoning you since your first year college can fade away into obscurity forever and ever.

Then, you can just be you. No label, no nickname, no reputation. Just a regular college senior.

The walk to the engineering building is lighter now. You feel like one of the falling petals gently flying through the sky from the branch down to the ground. A new journey begins and you can’t wait for it.

After another minute of walking, you reach the engineering building. Painted a soft brown with tons of posters and clubs waiting to talk to students. You dodge all of them to head inside where Jeongguk is waiting by a random classroom. You navigate through the crowd until you finally locate a mop of gorgeous dark hair and bright clear eyes.

He’s facing his phone screen, one leg crossed over the other, but you’re still mesmerized by him. Beauty is in simplicity but with a face like that, Jeongguk could wear a burlap sack and make it work. But currently, he’s dressed in baggy gray cargos and a dark blue long-sleeve shirt with some brand name logo on it. The urge to sigh like a satisfied cartoon character is intense.

You hate and love it at the same time. How on earth can he look so boyfriend without trying?

“Hey, Jeongguk,” you call softly, taking short strides towards him, hoping that your hair looks good and not like a frizzy mess from the wind.

His head pops up, glimmering eyes like two black pools of water gazing back at you. Then a soft grin forms on his lips, skin creasing, dimpling, and cute.

“Hey.” Jeongguk tucks his phone into his pants pocket. His perfume wafts over to you the moment he moves, welcoming you like a warm hug after a long day.

You want to bury your nose in it and never forget the smell.

“Sorry, I got caught up with something on the way here. Were you waiting for a while?”

“Nah, I’ve been here for like two minutes. Did you bring it?” He adjusts his bag for a moment.

“Yep.” You hand him the shirt, neatly folded and smelling of your fabric softener, along with the umbrella tied. “All clean.” A cute smile grows on his face as he gently takes the items and puts it in his bag, humming excitedly under his breath which makes your entire body warm. “Listen, are you off for the rest of the day?”

“Yeah, I have all morning classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. You?”

“Same and it just so happens that I needed a walking buddy to the subway station.” You take the first step towards the exit when he agrees with a short chuckle and a nod. Your apartment building is one stop away while Jeongguk is about four stops away so you won’t get to talk much but the sentiment is what matters.

Plus, all you really want is to be close to him and his family again. There was a real bond going on when you were young and now you’ve been handed a golden chance to reignite that spark.

Fresh air fills your lungs while your ears pick up on the sounds of fading conversations, the smell of food and new school supplies greets your nose. You have yet to reach the economics building, where more people know you, so people here aren’t staring just yet. They’re preoccupied with their own lives and you want to appreciate it for a little longer.

“By the way, thanks for Saturday. I’m sure dealing with five drunk weirdos must’ve been annoying,” you add.

You barely remember the words coming out of your mouth. It was a slew of garbled song lyrics, high thoughts and giggles and that’s the best you can do. There’s no way Jeongguk was walking out of the night sane.

He huffs out a laugh and then shakes his hair out of his eyes in a very attractive manner. “It was… well, it was something, I’ll tell you that much. But you don’t have to apologize. I don’t mind.” Then Jeongguk looks at you with his chin tilted down, lids low, almost glazed over like he’s checking you out but his gaze just dances over the features of your face.

You get incredibly shy with him staring at you like that.

Let’s hope you aren’t turning tomato red right now.

“Jimin and Tae go out a lot so I’m used to making sure they don’t, like, die.”

Jeongguk is like Jeongyeon in that sense. Always taking care of people and making sure they are safe in bed before worrying about themselves. Sometimes, she forgets that she’s allowed to have fun and let loose too and you don’t want Jeongguk to fall into the same mindset. Being the caretaker all the time can be draining.

“I mean, it’s your birthday and the rest of us were getting fucked up. Usually, it’s the other way around.”

Your 20th was nothing short of a hot mess. Nayeon snuck in bottles she got her older brother to buy and you tried to take a shot from every single type he brought. Whiskey, vodka, soju, sake, and beer. Safe to say, that was a rookie mistake that ended up hunched over a toilet bowl for almost an hour. Nayeon held your hair while Jeongyeon ordered just enough carbs and hangover soup to make it all better.

But it was a memory you hold dear to you because it was one of the last moments you felt like it was okay for you to be a stupid teenager and make a mistake.

Jeongguk didn’t get that moment and you want him to because that sloppy behavior won’t be cute when he’s in his late 20s or early 30s.

“I didn’t want to,” he shrugs simply. “Drinking is sorta fun but I don’t love it and I never let myself get super drunk.” You want to ask why but Jeongguk continues speaking. “But we had cake and barbecue before coming to the club and my parents sent a care package, so it was a good birthday. Taking care of you guys didn’t ruin everything.”

You relent a little. Perceptions of fun are different after all and maybe, for Jeongguk, he got exactly what he wanted so he isn’t complaining. The residual guilt fades slowly inside of you.

“As long as you enjoyed your birthday,” you sigh, a wave of something sentimental coming over you causes your heels to raise up so you can be tall enough to ruffle his fluffy perfect hair. The same boy who only dressed in Pokémon shirts is now legal, old enough to do whatever he wants, and you’re starting to feel a little soft about it. “Can’t believe you’re twenty!” You squeal. “You’re all grown up!”

Jeongguk cringes, turning away from your constant pinches and prods and whining as a few eyes drift towards the two of you. His ears get the tiniest bit red but he doesn’t scold you so you continue teasing him.

“Remember when you used to hand draw all of my birthday cards with little cartoons and you and Eunchae would come with my mom and I to look at all of the cakes at the store?”

The filmstrip of memories is painfully nostalgic. That one nice cake store a few streets away from your apartment building that made the best cakes. If you close your eyes, you can smell the sugary air as you walk in, a tinkling bell on the door to let the owners know someone was there, and the various cakes put in the display case. You always got the fudgiest chocolate cake with bright red strawberries on top. Your mom could only afford the small size but that was fine. You just wanted a cake.

Jeongguk would come with you and press his face to the glass in complete awe. Sometimes, the three of you would pretend like you were rich people who got to buy big cakes whenever they pleased and you’d pick the biggest sizes of your favorite flavors.

You always got chocolate, Jeongguk got some sort of fruit while Eunchae would get red velvet and you would dream of the day when you had enough money to indulge yourself on a whim. .

Then, when Jeongguk’s mom opened up her bakery, she began making your birthday cakes so the three of you sort of got your wish but those were free. Made with love and compassion until you moved too far to feel it.

“You still remember all of that?” He asks. The stone pathway turns. A signal that the economics building is getting closer by the second.

Trying not to think about it, you answer him. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?” You’ve always had impeccable memory but you treasured every second of your childhood.

Because your later teens, in Seoul and away from all that you knew, were terrible.

“I barely remembered what I ate yesterday,” Jeongguk laughs, staring over at you. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“You think so?” You turn to look at him when you feel his eyes linger for longer than usual. His stare isn’t piercing but it leaves a viable imprint on your skin like a thick layer of lotion. “What?” You get self-conscious. Is there something in your hair? Did a bird shit on you without you noticing?

“I like your hair,” Jeongguk says after a moment, pointing to the clear clip holding all of your hair up.

A few of the shorter strands come out from the tight hold with time, framing your face, while the rest remain bunched up with a large claw clip. It’s such an effortless look. This morning you were too lazy to fully style your hair with a hair dryer and a brush after spending too much time on it for your sham date with Wooshik. It’s starting to get a little greasy so you plan to wash it tomorrow but this is your go-to dirty hair look.

“Oh, thanks.” A goofy grin nearly breaks out onto your face but you stop it halfway. “I like your earrings.” You want to return Jeongguk’s compliment with one of your own. Your pointer finger runs through the three thick hoops like a wind chime, causing Jeongguk’s shoulder to rise up thanks to the ticklish sensation, getting shy. “How on earth did your mom allow all of these piercings?”

Mrs. Jeon lost her shit when a 14-year-old you greeted her with a second hole in your ears when she was coming home from the grocery store. An upperclassman offered to pierce everyone’s ears using the nurses supplies in exchange for cigarettes or candy from a nearby convenience store. Since she was your guardian for the day while your mom was out for a certification exam, she felt irresponsible but you assured her that your mom was okay with it.

Well, she had no idea at the time but you knew she’d get over it at some point. It was a second ear piercing, not like you got a tattoo on your forehead.

“These were all presents, actually.” Your fingers brush the back of his palm as you get closer to the economics building at the end of the road, a little before the sidewalk down the main road begins, as your dread multiplies. “I learned that from you. Convinced mom and dad that my good grades warranted some award and they had no choice but to say yes.”

A dangerously familiar feeling mixed with pride courses through your veins like the newest drug. Jeongguk says he doesn’t remember much but he manages to reach in and pull out a sickly sweet memory from your childhood that has your insides turning into mush. You almost want to wrap your arms around your stomach to get it to stop flipping so much.

You didn’t ask for much as a kid. Growing up you knew that money was tight so expensive things like the best console or brand name clothes were simply out of the question. But you liked to barter with your mom for more simple things. A good grade for ice cream or a day at the beach or a trip to the bookstore to buy a manga edition you’ve been waiting to read.

It wasn’t all the time but when you felt like you wanted to celebrate yourself. You earned it after all.

Then you got a little older and you wanted to become like the cool older girls you went to school with. So you dropped ice cream for piercings, nail polish, and CDs from all of the new idol groups that were popular at the time. Your mom was frugal of course, most of your stuff was cheap from the local dollar store or second hand markets, but she loved to treat you. She wished she could spoil you one day, buy you everything you could lay your eyes on, however the universe didn’t allow her to do that.

She still can’t but that’s okay. You’re glad you didn’t grow up a spoiled brat. That you learned humility and patience and empathy because it’s those traits that set you apart from most of your classmates.

“I taught you well.” Fingers itching to flick his chin, you hold back. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable with all of the touching.

Jeongguk hums. “Got these and these,” he turns his head to the other side to show you almost five studs in his ear, “after my class rank and CSAT score came out.”

“Didn’t that hurt?”

You do your best to keep your eyes either on the ground or on Jeongguk as the almighty building comes into view. Despite the heavy beating in your chest, your inner turmoil shouldn’t be obvious.

Jeongguk doesn’t need to know about your problems. Those are yours and yours alone.

“Yeah but it wasn’t unbearable. I swear, Eunchae almost passed out when she got her doubles. She hates needles.”

You laugh. “I remember. Your sister was freaking out when we were all getting our vaccines because she literally slithered down onto the floor the moment she saw the thing.”

Jeongguk hums. There’s a small break in the conversation as the two of you pass by a huge yet short wave crowd of people who are either rushing to the cafeteria or to their next class but even through all of that, you can feel eyes all over the two of your backs. Especially yours.

Your department members linger by the vending machines and smoking areas in little judgmental pods, whispering about you amongst themselves.

You can predict what they’re saying.

There she goes again, latching onto another guy after Wooshik dumped her poor pathetic ass.

Will she ever learn?

Poor thing. He probably doesn’t know that he’s dealing with the campus whore.

That word. That one word, repeats in your mind. Whore, whore, whore. That’s all you’ll ever be to them.

Fear sets in. What will they say about Jeongguk? Will he get teased? Will he find out about your reputation and want nothing to do with you afterwards? No, the last thing you want is for him to get tangled in all of this. He shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. Know about all of the things people whisper about you when they think you aren’t listening.

At some point, he’ll find out. No matter how hard you try to hide it, push it down, pretend everything is okay, Jeongguk will come to know what everyone thinks of you and all of the nasty vitriol they throw your way.

And when he does, you’re going to have to learn to let go of whatever you two have right now and whatever builds in your heart until all you have left to cling to Jeongguk are the sweet memories of your life in Busan.

Because that’s how it goes for you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jeongguk stumbles into his apartment and throws his backpack onto his gaming chair, quickly calculating the amount of free time he has right now.

He has a group match in about two hours for League of Legends and he plans on canceling on them since he had to wake up early today. Jeongguk’s sleep schedule was fucked up all summer and suddenly, waking up at 6am instead of going to bed around then was quite literally torture.

There’s no guilt when Jeongguk texts them. He doesn’t owe his teammates anything, not like he’s joined a real league anyways. He has other priorities.

Now that he’s a student again, his sleep schedule sort of matters. His mother would cry learning about the absolute buffoonery he was committing over summer session with his new league he met online. Playing various games until the sun was peeking through his blinds and then ordering breakfast from McDonald’s while entering another battle. Usually that would entice him but all he feels is exhaustion.

Most of it is from lugging his heavy ass backpack around all day in the sun. Some of it is still from this weekend. There’s a reason Jeongguk isn’t an avid partier.

Quickly, he throws whatever pre-packaged dish he bought into the microwave and changes out of his school clothes into some sweatpants and a different shirt. All part of his usual after school routine. Then he carefully takes the steaming plate out once it’s done and sets it on the counter to cool before going to the bathroom to wash his hands.

As he walks through his hall, something presses into the soles of his feet. It’s soft but flexible and round with a hard plastic bit strung onto it that digs into his skin.

“Ouch!” He stops midway, moving his foot and staring at the mystery item. Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow at first.

It looks like one of Taehyung’s many charm bracelets that he buys from those street vendors in Hongdae with the cute little charms around colored string. Jeongguk has one from him ( a black string with a baby pink bunny charm that he wears every now and then). The idiot probably dropped it while singing karaoke or doing his Scarface impersonation to make Jimin laugh. Jeongguk takes his phone out to text the guy but he realizes that Taehyung hasn’t been to his apartment in a few days.

The only other person that has been here was… you.

He bends down to look at the bracelet. Were you wearing one that night? Your bracelets didn't look like this. They were metal, not string. Jeongguk bends at the knees and picks it up. The string is elastic and stretchy but loose enough to fit around his wrist if needed.

Oh, it’s a hair tie.

You must’ve dropped it when you slept over. Jeongguk turns the thing around to see the charm. The elastic itself is plain black but the charm seems to be some Sanrio character that he recognizes but cannot remember the name of.

Hello Kitty? No, he knows her and she doesn’t look like this.

Cinnamoroll? No, that’s a puppy. This is some weird purple looking thing.

My Melody? Maybe.

Fuck, he doesn’t have time to worry about this. Jeongguk shoves the damn thing in his pocket, makes a mental reminder to text you about it after eating lunch, and goes to quickly wash his hands. His fingers push the door open to his bathroom. Clean white tiles, the scent diffuser smelling of white musk, and his TMNT towel drying on the rack.

Jeongguk looks up at himself in the mirror. His eyes are sunken in and a little swollen from the lack of sleep. His stomach rumbles as he lathers his hands in his fresh cotton hand soap.

But all he can think about is you on that night.

Saturday Night.

The night felt never-ending.

Jeongguk was doing his best to get everyone in a car ride home safely after song after song on the dance floor but he was getting a little overwhelmed with all that was thrown onto him in the span of a few short minutes when Nayeon decided she wanted to go home.

Laughing, tripping, complaining about vomiting, a smell coming from some random spot that’s making someone nauseous, Jeongguk felt like a parent trying to get their kids together. His phone was glued to his hands to call cabs and type in addresses while making sure the five of you didn’t wander off into the unknown without his supervision.

Thankfully, one of your friends managed to usher the other into a cab and Jimin was able to shove a whiny Taehyung into the one Jeongguk had ordered so now all he had left was you.

Drunk you was something else. Stuck onto him like a second layer, arms twined tightly around his waist, mumbling about something random while stumbling over every step. Jeongguk had half a mind to just pick you up and walk to where the guy had parked but he didn’t want to make your nausea even worse by swinging you around.

“Wait! Jeongguk, I can’t find my phone, we have to go back,” you whined, tugging on his arm with one hand. “I-I can’t–hiccup–I can’t live without my-my phone!”

You were clutching your phone in your other hand.

He sighed. “You’re holding it,” motioning to the device pressed into your fingers. “Come on, the cab is parked there.” The yellow thing looked like something descending from the heavens while the driver finished the last of his cigarette and belched loud enough for Jeongguk to hear.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Are you really sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I trust you.” You mumbles, hugging him close like he was a large pillow.

The next few minutes passed by a bit quicker as you let Jeongguk help you into the car and started on your way back to his apartment since you and your friends were incapable of remembering your address.

He leaned against the tough upholstery as the car began moving. Muscles tight and tired. Jeongguk felt the rivulets of sweat dripping down on his neck which he quickly wiped off and onto his pants, something he usually doesn't do but he’s at the state of not really giving a fuck about clothes he’s going to wash anyways. His body bobbles with a shaky turn and somehow, your limp body ends up pressed into his side, head leaning on his chest while a muffled groan leaves your painted lips.

“Ah s-sorry,” you slurred, attempting to sit up by placing a hand on Jeongguk’s mid-thigh. “I forgot to put on my belt.” Your perfume flowed to him, a soft clean scent, maybe a bit sucrose when mixed with the scent of your shampoo.

“Oh, the belt is finicky on that side, ma’am.” The driver informs. He meets both of your eyes in the rearview mirror. “It’s okay. Lean on your boyfriend for the rest of the drive. Should only take a few more minutes!”

Jeongguk opens his mouth to correct but you interrupt him with a giggle. His head switches to you, mouth covered, skin dimpling. “Boyfriend.” You repeat.

The driver plays along, most likely very confused, just like Jeongguk. “You two make a lovely couple.”

That next statement makes you giggle a little more. Jeongguk wants to know what is so funny about this cab driver assuming the two of you are dating. Do you find the hypothetical to be so insanely outrageous that it’s hilarious? Should he even bother asking or should he let it go to save himself the pain from hearing your brazenly honest answer?

Jeongguk chooses to ignore it. He knows another turn is coming up so he raises his left arm and nudges you closer to rest on him comfortably. That same arm circles around your shoulders and the top of your head tickles the bottom of Jeongguk’s nose. You’re warm and comforting after a long night, bringing up a slew of feelings he’s been pushing down for years at this point.

Still mumbling to yourself, you become distracted with the jewelry on Jeongguk’s hand so you don’t hear the questions that the cab driver throws your way.

“How long have you two been dating?” He asks, turning down the late night radio station playing old hits.

Jeongguk just goes along with it. “It’s-uh-very recent, sir.” A four hour relationship to be exact. “But I’ve known her since we were kids.”

“How cute! My wife and I only dated for a few months before I proposed, you know,” he proclaims proudly, shoulders broadening. Jeongguk nods and fakes a grin in hopes that the conversation ends here.

Jeongguk wants to laugh. Marriage?

He’s never even been in a relationship before. He’s barely gone past kissing someone for longer than two minutes. With the way things are going, Jeongguk will probably live his life exactly like Steve Carell in the movie The 40-year-old Virgin only there’s no way he’ll get a happy ending.

The cab driver laughs to himself when he sees the look on Jeongguk's face before turning the music back up. You’ve successfully knocked out on Jeongguk’s chest so you miss the faint redness creeping up his neck and to his ears but it’s not something he wants you to see either. His brain zeros in on his own pathetic state of affairs.

He’s always prided himself on his emotional maturity for someone so young but romantically? Horrendous.

Jeongguk has always stood behind the belief that he simply isn’t meant to be in a relationship with anyone. Sometimes he can be too shy, too closed off, and people don’t gravitate towards people like that. They want someone who can be openly affectionate after a few conversations and Jeongguk simply isn’t the type. The only reason why he has friends like Taehyung and Jimin is because they made an effort to get to know him at his pace. It’s the same with you, who was older and a girl but you still made the effort to invite Jeongguk to watch Barbie movies or search for coins to get the cheapest candy at the convenience store. People usually don’t care after he brushes them off a few times but you did, Taehyung and Jimin did, and Jeongguk gets all fuzzy inside.

Would he ever find someone like you three again? Would he ever be so lucky? Probably not.

He looks over at your face smushed against his chest, playing with the zipper of his jacket. You’re so pretty, always have been, always will be, like a rare flower. Even after all of this time, he’s so taken aback by how effortlessly beautiful you are; on the outside and the inside. The way your hair falls delicately over your face, cheeks puffed, lips puckered; the way your shirt gives you an angelic look and your necklace lies perfectly in the middle of your collarbones.

It’s enticing. Jeongguk can’t take his eyes off of you. He never could.

Fuck, this random reunion might do more harm than good if Jeongguk doesn’t learn to control himself. This isn’t the time to reawaken old feelings that he pushed down for a good reason.

Once the cab stops in front of his apartment building, Jeongguk pays him and then helps you out of the car. Body limp and slippery like slinky.

“No, I forgot how to walk,” you mumbled, leaning against one of the pillars outside the building to keep yourself up straight. “Can’t I just sleep here? It’s comfortable.”

“That’s a concrete pillar.” Jeongguk runs a hand through his slightly dampened hair. “Come on, there’s an elevator and I don’t live too high up. You’ll sleep better on my bed.”

A pout grows stronger on your face, a few streaks of something black collecting in the corner of your eyes and your lipstick is smeared a little but Jeongguk still finds you so put together and exquisite. Still like that rare flower on top of a mountain peak; beautiful yet impossible to reach.

“Fine.” You peel yourself off the pillar. “But if you’re lying to me, I’m gonna pinch those cute little cheeks right off your face.” Squishing his flesh momentarily before dropping your hands, Jeongguk blinks a few times in shock.

Focus, Jeon. She needs to rest.

Getting you inside is easier than he thought. The promise of the elevator and a warm bed with some water turned you much more docile. But you’re still enamored by his rings which you slip on and off his fingers as the elevator beeps. Then, Jeongguk slips off your shoes and tells you to wait by the kitchen counter while he rifles through his things, handing you a shirt and directing you to the bathroom.

A loud sigh escapes his lips once he’s all alone. Jeongguk has about ten seconds to change himself. He’s been in these tight jeans that squeeze his legs like anything. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone so hard in the gym over the summer. Now most of his old clothes don’t fit him as well as they used to.

Quickly, he throws on his pajamas just as you emerge from the bathroom and hum a random song from tonight.

Then, he helps you into bed, groaning out at the soreness in his muscles from all of the lifting he’s been doing today. You don’t fight back too much, clearly worn out, so you sink into the soft padding easily like a little kitten. He throws the blankets over you, does a quick check to see if you’re okay, and then gets into his own makeshift bed made out of a thin mattress and a set of sheets.

It’s not nearly as comfortable as his own bed and his back might be mad at him tomorrow but it’ll do for now.

Just as Jeongguk is beginning to fall into deep sleep, he hears you rusting around, mumbling under your breath about something. Your hands push yourself up on your elbows. For a second, he thinks you’re going to throw up so he gets up quickly and makes his way to his kitchen to grab a plastic bag.

But you start speaking louder.

“I can’t believe you, Seojoon.” Your hair sticks out from every corner as you flop back down, lips bloated and pouty, slapping around the comforter and pointing to no one. “I hate you.” Jeongguk’s eyebrow raises, pausing in the middle of his kitchen to decipher what on earth you are talking about.

Clearly, you’re having a nightmare. Jeongguk takes quiet steps back to his spot on the floor in order to avoid that one squeaky

“You cheated on me with Somin, didn’t you? You bastard. You told me you loved me,” whining, your body twists around. “Why else would I let you fuck me?”

Jeongguk reels his brain back to stop the curious sympathy right there. He doesn’t want to prod further into this bad dream involving a fight with an ex of some sort. It’s none of his business and clearly this wasn’t meant for him to hear. All he does care about is if you’re going to vomit or not.

He calls your name. “Are you okay?” Jeongguk whispers.

You don’t respond. Instead, your face twists in discomfort as you continue to mumble into his mattress and writhe around.

Jeongguk grows increasingly worried. He doesn’t want you to choke or anything of the sort while he’s deep in REM. Slowly, he gets down on his knees to get a closer look at you tossing and turning.

“It hurts so much.”

Jeongguk gently places a hand on your arm, saying your name softly so you don’t wake up. “Hey, you okay? Do you want water?” You twist away from his touch at first. “It’s me, it’s me, it’s Jeongguk,” reminding you as your lids barely part. He thinks you register him, that maybe you’re somewhat awake right now as you begin to curl forward.

But then your hands clasp Jeongguk’s arms tightly, restricting his every move.

“You’re going to leave me, aren’t you?” Your voice slurs, the tip of your nose meeting the fabric of his shirt, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to leave indents.

Nothing but confusion clouds Jeongguk’s brain. What are you talking about?

“You told me you loved me. What? Don’t you want me anymore?”

Tightening around him, you bury your face into his neck again. Your arms begin to raise, wrap around his shoulders to bring your body closer to his rigid frame. Jeongguk feels wetness from your eyes begin to drip onto his skin, dampening his shirt.

“Just do it then. Just leave me. No one ever sticks around anyways. Guys always leave me the moment something new comes along. Every single one,” you enunciate, vibrating into him, crying softly. “You don’t even care about how much you hurt me. No one cares.”

Jeongguk is paralyzed under your hold as your tears start to roll down. Your sobs are loud and erratic and painful, as if all of this hurt has building until you eventually couldn’t hold onto it anymore. That it took alcohol and a long night to wedge it out of you.

It’s contradictory; holding him tight and telling him to leave you.

But he doesn’t push you away and he doesn't let go. Jeongguk lets you grip onto him for safety because he’s terrified that removing his touch could break you even further.

He doesn’t know what is happening in your dream to make you behave like this, he doesn’t know what made the previous glee that used to make your eyes bright fade away after all of those years passed. He wants to ask but he doesn't know how.

All Jeongguk does know is that you were different. Not in a good or bad way but you were simply different. The happy go lucky little girl grew into a hardened adult. When he looked into your eyes tonight, he saw traces of all of this hurt woven alongside other emotions. Like a heavy blanket that only pushes you further and further deeper into a more melancholic way of being.

And as he helps you back into bed once your tears stop falling, rubs some cooling Vicks rub on your forehead and pulls the cover close, his brain turns into an echo chamber until he tires himself to sleep.

No one ever sticks around anyways.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A week has passed and while you thought you could gain control of your physics plight, it seems like the universe has some different plans.

The tutor that you selected, a second year girl who is majoring in electrical engineering, has been a total flake. You exchanged numbers with her on Thursday during Week 1 and she fed you all of these sweet words about wanting to become friends and teaching in a friendly, kind way which immediately softened you. The last thing you wanted was for some dickhead to call you stupid because you didn’t understand the concept the first time.

She said she’d meet you at the library that Saturday at 3pm to come up with a schedule and she never showed. So you rescheduled to Sunday, then Monday, then Tuesday and now you just feel like an idiot.

There’s always some excuse. Either she slept in or she’s not feeling well or her roommate needs her but you’re losing your damn mind right now.

“You’re not paying her, right?” Jeongyeon asks, rummaging through Nayeon’s bag for something. “Maybe she’s a scammer?”

You give her a dull look. “She doesn’t get paid by me. I think the university does or she’s earning credits, I don’t know. But I’m fucked for the big quiz we have next week.”

It’s only Week 2 but the material is daunting and frankly put, you’ll shit your pants the day of the actual quiz and whatever date the final is. This is all so unfamiliar to you and, unlike other subjects, you struggle to find that area where the content becomes interesting. All you feel is terror.

Nayeon, ever the optimist, tries to lift your spirit.

“Girl, that shit is next week. Do yourself a favor, find a new tutor, study a whole bunch and then ace the quiz. There’s no point in waiting for this random girl to start caring. It’s your grade after all.”

“Yeah but I just don’t want someone that’s going to be an asshole when I get things wrong.”

People love to dumb you down, especially those in your own department. Obviously your promiscuity directly correlates to your intelligence. Girls can only be slutty or smart, right? There exists no gray area. But you know yourself. Even if science and math aren’t your thing, you’re a smart person. You got into a top performing university without any fancy prep classes or coaches and you are consistently pulling good grades each semester. That speaks more about you and your capabilities than anything else.

“I’ve heard this one guy is pretty good. He’s a teacher’s assistant pursuing his masters degree here.” Nayeon takes her phone out to look him up. “My friend was in his Chemistry group sessions and he was apparently super helpful and kind. I think he does physics too. Let me ask her.”

You perk up. It would be perfect if you could land a tutoring session with this TA instead of your missing student tutor. Even if it’s a group setting

“Let me know what your friend says.” You look away from the two in front of you for a split second as your attention was cut by your phone vibrating on the table. Flipping it over you see a text from your flakey tutor herself.

Reading it over, you roll your eyes heavily. Another lame excuse about her skipping out on your tutoring session because she scheduled a meeting with her professor at the exact same time by accident. You ignore it and plan to respond with a passive aggressive rejection to end all of this bullshit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jeongyeon and Nayeon try to discreetly take their edibles before digging into the food you all ordered.

Steaming plates of rice, kimchi, stir-fry and meats along with a few fried foods makes your stomach grumble. You flip your phone back over and grab your chopsticks, changing the subject quickly.

“What are you guys doing after this?” You ask. The edibles are going to last a while and considering a weed high has different stages, there’s no way these two are going to be eating the entire time. Munchies aren’t that strong.

Jeongyeon wiggles her eyebrows suggestively to her girlfriend, cheeks full like a chipmunk, and Nayeon turns beet red. Enough context for you to figure it out, breaking into a fit of giggles.

“Ohhh, I see.”

Good for them. If only you were getting laid too. Lately, your vibrator has been your best friend late at night when your mind wanders.

With thirteen settings, it’s safe to say you won’t be getting bored for a while.

However, you’ve never done it while being high. You’d want to do it with someone you’re comfortable with, maybe a consistent trustworthy hookup and only if consent is 100% enthusiastic, but you can only imagine how heightened the senses feel.

Getting lost in thought, you cross one of your legs over the other, thinking about the haziness parting as you ride them slow but deep. Your hands will grip their shoulders, nails digging into the tight flesh as the drag of their length is delicious inside of you. Moaning out loud at how full you feel, watching the sharp bone of his jaw unhinge with pleasure, thick silver earrings brushing your skin, dark hair between your fingers as you increase the pace and drive the two of you to the tipping point.

It sounds… so satisfying.

Fuck, okay, you need to get some control over yourself. It must be the week before your period or something because your mind has been cooking up these scenarios that demand attention.

And most of the time it involves some familiar looking yet faceless character giving you the best dick you’ve ever gotten. It’s really messing with you.

How the fuck are you going to be Miss Celibacy if your ass can’t go a week without sex?

You stab your chopsticks into a large chunk of tofu and stare at the red sauce over the surface before shoving it into your mouth in hopes of distracting you when an angry recognizable voice flutters past your table.

“..and this bitch has the nerve to look me dead in the eye and go, ‘well, you just lost yourself a customer,’ as if any of us give a shit. Like ma’am I get paid minimum wage to make watery coffee and reheat cardboard sandwiches regardless of your purchase, please leave me alone and die.”

Turning your head, you see tufts of blonde and shiny boots combined with the soft smell of peaches: Jimin.

And right next to him is none other than Jeon Jeongguk who is chuckling at Jimin’s whiny Karen tone to describe his awful customer. His cheeks creasing, eyes getting shinier and cute.

You can feel your body thrum with excitement.

“Hey guys!” Nayeon waves, setting down her utensils. They turn to look at her, then Jeongyeon and then at you, bowing while greeting. Your shoulders cave in when you feel Jeongguk’s stare on your face. “Do you wanna eat lunch with us?”

“Hell yeah. Is the menu today good?” Jimin asks.

Jeongyeon, with a mouth full of food, nods excitedly which is perfect. Jeongguk and Jimin laugh, motioning to the lunch line quickly so you save the table and go back to eating your lunches. Your brain demands another curious glance at Jeongguk’s retreating figure.

What? He looks really fucking sexy from the back.

Ever since the first day of school, you agreed to ride the subway back with Jeongguk on the days you end class at the same time and you've come to the conclusion that he is quite literally the hottest guy on the entire planet. Hotter than any other guy you’ve wasted your time with.

He has the most boyish features but his body is perfectly crafted. Wide shoulders, defined thighs and arms, a super sculpted back, but not overly burly where he looks fake. Like an exquisite marble statue from the Hellenistic period.

Yes, yes, you know it’s sort of weird considering the fact that you’ve watched grow up from a cute kid to an emo pre-teen and now jumping to the absolute meal he is now but it’s just some simple attraction.

One that rears its ugly head whenever Jeongguk laughs or smiles or pushes his hair out of his face or tongues his cheek or does literally anything.

There are a million reasons why this could’ve happened. From all the time spent together from the subway rides to morning coffee and dinner one night (with all of your friends but it still counts) or you’re thinking this silly little attraction might be a combination of a lack of dick, PMS and pure loneliness. Either way, it isn’t anything major.

Finding a way to ignore it is the next step.

Nayeon nudges you. “Remind me again, how exactly are you two childhood friends?” Her cheeks puffed with food.

“Oh, I lived in Busan until high school and he was my neighbor. I would always hang out with him and his two sisters.” You explain, taking another bite of soft sticky rice.

“Older sisters?”

You shake your head. “One older and one younger.” Wondering why this is relevant.

But then, Nayeon and Jeongyeon make eye contact, eyebrows raising like they do when they know something you don’t. Meanwhile, you’re just sitting there like an idiot, waiting for context with your chopsticks held halfway up to your mouth.

“Green flag. Bright green fucking flag.” Jeongyeon whistles.

“Huh?” Your chopsticks barely prod your lip without your mouth opening. Did the edibles pull out some secret stoner knowledge that you aren’t aware of?

Jeongyeon decides to explain it to you. “According to the girlies on tiktok, men with older sisters are usually green flags. Something about learning gentleness and patience and respecting women from an early age or whatever. I don’t get you heteros so it went past my head.”

You’re puzzled at first. These men all have mothers, they came from a woman who nursed them and cared for them until now, why is having an older sister so different?

But then it hits you.

The way Jeongguk treats you is so different from the way most guys treat you. There’s no domineering masculinity coming from him in heavy waves trying to overpower you. It’s softer. He’s so approachable and gentle. He never touches you unless you’re okay with it, he’s always polite and kind and sweet. He never makes you feel stupid or inadequate, doesn’t talk over you, nothing of the sort.

And while it’s the barest of minimum, Jeongguk makes you feel safe.

Even Jeongyeon and Nayeon, who are often not comfortable around straight men, found him to be a delight. That has to mean something.

“I…I never thought about it,” your voice goes a little husky. Tucking a stray piece of hair out of your face as your cheeks get a little warm. “He’s just a good guy, you know. Jihyo, his sister, always kept him in check. I guess, it’s a good thing.”

Kids lead by example. Growing up in an environment where the adults around you were treating women poorly or pushing people around will appear in relationships. But Jeongguk was the opposite.

“It is. Think about it,” Nayeon leans in, “after all of those duds you’ve been with, he’s just what you’re looking for.”

The way your heartbeat accelerates is not a good sign.

Your chin pulls back, like you’re leaning away from the possibility. “What? I’m not gonna date him, Nayeon,” you groan under your breath.

“Why not?” She whines, slamming her fists onto the table, then laughing slightly at the indents left on his skin.

“Because he has no interest in dating right now,” you grumble, remembering his words from his birthday.

Even if you did try to pursue it, there’s a high chance Jeongguk might only see you as his older sister’s friend. Which is how it should be! It’s best that you let this silly little crush die like a lonely star and maintain your promise of making this year all about you. Your bullet vibrator is going to have to help you whenever you get the urge but besides that, no sex, no dates, no boys, nothing of the sort.

“Did he tell you that?” Jeongyeon asks, eyes glazing over. The weed must be hitting pretty hard. You’re surprised they can keep up with this conversation.

Then again, they’re probably used to it.

You nod. “At the club.” Snorting, your eyes briefly flick to the other side of the cafeteria where a certain someone sits. “Juri offered him her number and he said he wasn’t going to go out with her.”

That seems to wake the brunette up. “Fuck, really? I wish I saw that,” she pouts, leaning on the blonde curled up next to her. Cute.

“Well, he didn’t say no since you two started fucking hazing him the moment you saw him,” you scold. “But he told me he was going to reject her if/when he saw her in person.”

“Hey! You were the one who directed us to shoo away any man that came up to you that night.” Nayeon defends. “We were just listening to instructions when we came over to stop you two.”

Jeongyeon joins in. “Yeah, and he looked like your usual type so we assumed we should pull you away. How were we supposed to know the super hot guy you were talking to was a friend?”

You open your mouth to quip back when you feel a presence behind you, casting a shadow on your back. The lingering smell of cologne and food dance in the air. A wave of despair crashes inside of your stomach and you really wish a black hole would open up right under to sweep you away from this hellscape.

“What are you guys talking about?”

Taehyung Jimin split to sit on the bench between Nayeon and Jeongyeon’s bench and yours. It's a square shaped table with four benches on each side, so enough space for two people per bench. The two couples share a bench while you and Jeongguk get your own, although he still sits closer to you on his own bench.

“U-uh–” Jeongyeon stutters, looking at you with wide eyes for help.

“Oh, just some guy,” you fake a laugh, flicking some hair out of your face and turning to food so you can shovel it in your face like a starved person.

Taehyung laughs a little. “Just some guy? Jeongyeon was saying that he’s super hot and your type.” He’s being cheeky, like he always is, but this time, you can’t engage in a back and forth with him.

Because the hot sweet guy you were talking about is sitting right next to you.

Your brain urges you to take a peek. Jeongguk is dressed like he usually is; a pair of baggy cargo pants and a light gray sweatshirt, and he always looks attractive. The fall wind is allowing you to smell the scent of his flowery shampoo in combination with his usual perfume and it’s such an addictive scent that you never want to forget.

But you can’t think about that. You should be thinking of a lie.

“I’ve always wondered if you had a boyfriend,” Jimin asks, resting his chin on his palm. A sly smirk forms on his lips, just as cheeky as his own boyfriend’s. “I asked Jeongguk and he said he didn’t know.”

Fuck. You look at him now, hair swishing with your movements. The boy is eating without a care and shrugs in response. “You never mentioned one.”

Yeah, because there isn’t one. You’ve never had a boyfriend in your life.

Sweat beads your palms. There has to be some guy that you can just drop in here for the sake of the conversation. Some random guy out in this cafeteria that is insignificant enough to never cross paths with you again so you can nip this conversation right in the bud.

You scan the place. There are a few guys you’ve already hooked up with so that’s a no. Some groups of first-years and that’s also a no (you’re not trying to catch a case here).

For fucks’ sake, are the only hot guys at this school Jimin, Taehyung and Jeongguk?

“Uh–”

Nayeon swoops in like a guardian angel. “We were talking about the Physics and Chem tutor. I don’t know if you guys have had him but, Kim Namjoon?”

Right, the tutor Nayeon’s friend went to. The really nice one.

She sends you a hidden wink from her end of the table and you respond with a quick finger heart. Bless her soul.

“Joon? Oh, he is so hot.” Jimin, to your surprise, bounces at the chance to thirst over this supposed sexy tutor that you’ve never seen before. His eyes roll back at the sheer thought of him, leaning closer to gossip. “He was our tutors for Physics 2 last semester and wow.” He shakes his head, marveled at such a man. “He could top me and then never speak to me again and I’d be okay with that.”

Now you’re curious about this Kim Namjoon. Just how hot is he?

Taehyung jumps in. “I agree, however, “he holds a single finger up, “I would also like to add Kim Seokjin, the bio tutor.” His eyes roll back dramatically. “Dream threesome. Foursome if you want babe,” he nudges the blonde who blushes in agreement.

Then the entire table breaks out into giggles and with a little coaxing, Nayeon and Jeongyeon reveal their ideal threesomes which you already know the answers to (Han Sohee and Irene from Red Velvet) since they share the same girl crushes. Then you answer begrudgingly which are the two male leads from Business Proposal because, obviously. However, the person next to you is rather quiet. You lightly nudge his side with your elbow to check in with him.

“You okay?” You’re asking just in case Jeongguk isn’t comfortable with sex talk.

But he nods. “Sorry, I’m still listening. Just really hungry. All I had for breakfast was a protein shake.” Jeongguk inhales the glazed stir-fry chicken on his plate, a dot of sauce landing on the corner of his lip and, oh my, do you want to wipe it off for him because he is so cute with his bready baby cheeks all puffed with food.

“Come on,” you pretend to scold. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Jeongguk’s mom would weep if she heard about him skipping.

He waves it off but you can see his ears get a little red. “Yeah, yeah, I know but I slept through my alarms so I was in a rush this morning. Almost pulled a Taehyung and crashed into the wall while trying to run out.”

You laugh at the image. Taehyung can be a bit of a klutz. At the club on Jeongguk’s birthday, he almost crashed into an entire table because he was dizzy from doing tiktok dances all night. Your head throws back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, and when you open them again, Jeongguk’s eyes are on you.

They feel explorative, searching every inch of your face like he doesn’t want to forget a single inch, lips quirked up in a half smile but it’s Jeongguk’s eyes that really take you aback. His eyes have never looked at you like that before.

As if something is swimming deep in those pools of glimmery chocolate brown; something warm and sweet in there.

“Sorry,” he blushes, turning his eyes away from your face and back onto his food. Your heart stops for a moment, looking down at his pillowy soft lips. They’re right there, moisturized and pink. All you really have to do is lean in.

And with the way Jeongguk looks at you, you really fucking want to.

He’s so beautiful. So pretty and sweet and kind and unlike any other guy you’ve ever wanted. The urge to go for him is almost primal that you can barely hold yourself back.

Your friends are like little angels in your head, goading you on to just do it. Just kiss him and take him and then drop it. Satiate that part of you that needs sex, that needs to fucked just right, and then move on. It would be different than usual because Jeongguk is different from the previous men so you wouldn’t get hurt.

Although…

He’s Jihyo’s little brother, the boy who needed to hold your hand when crossing the street, the kid always on his skateboard or his nose buried in a manga. Would it tarnish everything that you find familiar to just go for it? Would years of a perfectly healthy happy friendship go right down the drain?

But Jeongguk is an adult, only one year younger than you. There isn’t anything wrong.

Ideally, you could just lean in and–

“Jeongguk, what was the name of the blue penguin in the Backyardigans? I really need to know like now,” Taehyung urges, breaking your train of thought immediately.

You fly back as if the contact singes you, curling into yourself and placing a single hand on the surface of the table to catch your breath. You completely forgot about the whole conversation going on around you when you stared into Jeongguk’s pretty deep eyes.

It’s clear as day to you. With the man he’s become, it’s obvious that you are definitely into Jeon Jeongguk.

“Huh?” He rasps, slightly out of it too. “Oh-uh, Pablo. He’s the one that sings International Super Spy.”

“Pablo! I knew it.” Taehyung snaps his fingers loudly. “How do you still remember that?”

Jeongguk awkwardly forces out a laugh. “We watched a few episodes together this summer, remember?”

“Right. Pretty sure I was blazed out of my mind, though.”

Jimin nudges him. “Babe, when are you not blazed out of your mind?”

“When I’m with you, baby boy,” he coos.

The boy next to you groans out loud. “Ugh, you two are so nasty.” His voice is muffled by food but he still gets his point across. You bite back a giggle at the disgust on his face.

“Jeongguk, you can’t be mean to us. It’s homophobic.” Jimin points a chopstick in his direction but Jeongguk simply shrugs and continues eating without a care.

Jeongyeon pipes up. “I agree. That applies to you too, Queen of the Straights.”

The direct hit has pulled you out of your internal panic, reminding you to contribute to the conversation like friends usually do. Your eyes dull a little. “Yes ma’am.” Faking a soldier’s salute to make everyone laugh.

You’re glad that everyone else seems oblivious to what just happened because you know that had the two of you been alone, the situation would be entirely different.

And you don’t know if that outcome would be any better than this one.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

On Friday, classes get canceled.

Thankfully, it’s nothing bad. All of the buildings are getting fumigated to keep out any infestations that might’ve crawled in over the summer since someone thought they saw a cockroach in the Arts building so all the professors decide to post the lecture information online or have virtual class if necessary.

You had no complaints with this change. Attend class in your pajamas, in your bed, and have the option to fall asleep without getting caught? Sounds perfect.

Although, no in person class means you don’t get to speak to your Physics professor to complain about your flakey tutor and find a new one which you were banking on completing before you had your huge quiz next week. So, once your final lecture ends, you begin to worry about how the hell you’re going to resolve that problem.

Sure, you could easily self-review with the resources online but you’ve always learned more theoretical concepts with someone explaining it to you in person so you could ask questions immediately.

You shut your laptop off and place it on top of the long coffee table you use as a desk. An open notebook with notes sits on your right, pen clicked off, highlighters placed neatly in your pencil case, and the silence of your studio apartment almost starts ringing in your ears.

Who do you know that can tutor you for physics?

Nayeon sent you the email address for the Namjoon person whom everyone is vouching for. You asked this morning if he had any space in his tutoring session but he responded saying that he does but he isn’t having a session today and he’s happy to answer any questions over email or through a video call individually.

You genuinely consider that option until you look up at the decor in your room that Namjoon has no chance of missing during the video call.

Now, you wouldn’t call yourself a strange person, if anything you are a well-adjusted member of society, but the pieces chosen to hang up in your studio apartment would raise some eyebrows. From the poster of Bibble from Barbie saying Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss to the concerning amount of Sanrio plushies you’ve collected over the years to all of the cat beds and toys thrown around the place and the impressive array of diffusers in every corner, your apartment is an amalgamation of you.

And you don’t know if this Namjoon guy is going to take one look at the place and peg you down as a fucking weirdo or not. You want to make a good impression on him.

So, you wrack your brain for a different option to help you just before your quiz next week.

Someone. Anyone.

Your worst bet is to walk over to the nearest cram school and ask someone there but those are all high school students and you’d die of embarrassment.

Then you remember, Jeongguk took Physics last semester. Maybe he can help.

Quickly, you pat around your duvet for your phone. It’s lying screen down a few inches away from Snowball’s sleeping body. Carefully, you grab the device, scroll through your contacts and call him with fiery hope coursing through you thickly.

“Hello?” His voice drips from the speakers like flowing water and you want to drown in it.

“Hey, are you done with online classes?” You ask, on your back and knees to your chest in a very suggestive position.

“Uh almost,” Jeongguk trails off. “Why? What’s up?”

You hold back a goofy smile at his distracted tone. “You know how you said you took physics last semester?” He hums in response. “Do you think you could explain a few concepts to me? I have this big ass quiz soon and I don’t wanna bomb it.”

You wait. The pessimist in you expects a rejection, a flat out ‘I’d rather die than waste my time explaining physics concepts to a 21-year-old,’ but the optimist is waiting with a bouquet of roses on the other side.

This is Jeongguk we’re talking about. Sweet, sweet, lovely Jeongguk. Not that dickhead that sits in the back of lecture and watches hentai on his phone.

“Oh. I’m not the best teacher.”

Both the optimist and pessimist in your head are waiting on the balls of their feet. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting but it's an answer you aren’t hurt by!

“That’s okay! I just need someone to go over it with me. As long as you aren’t mean, I won’t complain.” You want to appeal to Jeongguk in a way that’ll get the guy to bend a little and what other way to a man’s heart than food? “I’ll repay you with dinner,” you sing-song.

There’s a brief pause, like he’s considering the option while noises mumble in the background. “What’s the menu?” Jeongguk asks.

God, he’s so cute. Your cheeks are raised so high, they might as well curl into your eyes.

“I live near a great fried chicken place.” Works out perfectly because you’ve been craving something fried for a while now. Must be your period.

Jeongguk barely waits a second. “Sold. Text me the time and your address.”

You cut the call after bidding each other goodbye. A giddy squeal almost bubbles out of your lips until you realize that you have about two hours until Jeongguk is in your apartment for the first time ever.

Alone. No friends. No family.

Just you and this super hot guy.

No interruptions. Complete privacy.

You launch out of bed so fast that you wake up Snowball from her slumber. Quickly, you shower and you take your time to scrub your body with lilac body wash and shave. Usually Friday is your pamper day so this isn’t anything out of the ordinary. Then you wash your greasy hair to rid yourself of the conditioning hair mask you slathered on this morning. After your shower, you walk around your studio with your fluffy bathrobe and microfiber towel on to find the perfect outfit.

It has to be comfortable but cute. Even though Jeongguk is just tutoring you and there is a high chance that this meeting will only be platonic, you still want to look your best.

Rummaging through your dresser drawers and closet, your eyes immediately fall to your collection of baby-doll lingerie sets in various colors. An expensive purchase, but you’ve always enjoyed dressing up every now and then. Your fingers dance across the itchy lace, thinking about which one Jeongguk would like? Lilac? Baby pink? Maybe the nude one with the intricate designs on the cups? Or how about the blood red and black one that looks like it came straight out of a BDSM film?

Nah, that’s too much. You go for yoga pants, a plain t-shirt and a quarter-zip with your university’s logo on it. Then selecting a lacy pair of underwear and no bra. You hate wearing one at home anyways.

The clothes lay spread out on your bed as you begin your post shower process of lotion, deodorant, a soft scented body spray and then your clothes. Then, you dry your hair and then begin cleaning up the little clutter you have over the place. You’re a neat person, which others find shocking, so there isn’t much to do. You dry some dishes on the rack, reset your bedsheets, light up a candle, empty the litter box, and eat a mediocre salad as you wait for the clock to strike 5pm.

Time moves at a microscopic pace, probably because you’re staring at the moving hands in hopes that you’ll blink at the pretty boy will be standing at your doorstep. You should focus on something else in the meantime. So you take out your physics notebook and begin reviewing.

Next week’s quiz will be on a little under ½ of the energy chapter covered so far. You’ve been paying attention, taking diligent notes, and doing pretty good on the homework but the topics still freak you out.

It’s a STEM thing. You haven’t taken one since your first year so you’re rusty and the material seems extra intimidating. Unlike Jeongguk, Jimin and Taehyung, you don’t study this on a daily basis.

But there’s nothing you won’t be able to conquer without working.

About halfway through your revision is when the buzz of your home intercom rings, shocking you out of your thoughts. Slowly, you get up, dusting the invisible particles off your clothes and going over to the machine to let Jeongguk in. There’s a short waiting game, lasting about two minutes, as he probably comes up from the lobby and reaches your door before knocking.

You’re putting a kettle of water to boil as the sound resonates and you rush over to open the door with a bright smile on your lips.

“Hey,” you breathe out, taking in the sights before you.

As always, Jeongguk looks perfect in a gray long-sleeve t-shirt and black sweats. Like the comfy soft boyfriend of your dreams. His hair is a little damp at the ends but it waves a little past his eyebrow as it grows and his backpack straps pull his shirt wide to show off his broad shoulders.

Fucking hell, you think. You want to eat him up and ruin him.

Swallowing shakily, you step aside as he grins. “Hi.” Jeongguk’s voice is low, like usual, but a little buttery and less hoarse. Almost sexy.

Basically, it’s doing things to you.

Carefully, you lead him inside where Jeongguk takes his shoes off and stares at the place with those big eyes of his. You wonder what goes through that pretty head of his as he stares at the various stuffed animals and the wall art. But, instead, he lands on the Kirby shaped cat-bed at the base of your bed holding Snowball’s half-asleep body.

“You have a cat?” He asks.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” You walk in front of the thing, squatting down in front of the entrance to hold a hand out for the ball of fluff to sniff. Snowball headbutts you immediately. “You didn’t inherit your dad’s allergy, did you?”

That would crush you. As much as you like dogs, you’re a cat person at heart or a Snowball person at heart.

Jeongguk shakes his head no. Then he comes to the same spot you are and gets on his knees on the opposite side of you, watching with curious doe eyes. Slowly, Jeongguk extends his hand out, thinking Snowball needs time to get used to him like some cats do, but no. She’s friendly and extroverted, getting out of the bed to welcome Jeongguk with an excited soft-tone trill.

It’s heartwarming watching her melt into his touch, purring and climbing into Jeongguk’s lap the more he pets her on all of her favorite spots.

“You’ve been accepted,” you muse, crossing your arms over your stomach in hopes that by pushing on it, that buttery, gooey, sugary feeling will go away.

“Yay,” Jeongguk cheers cutely. “What’s her name?”

“Snowball.”

“Snowball!” He coos. “You are the cutest ever!” Jeongguk leans down to tell her, slight aegyo in his tone. The rounded tip of his nose brushes the top of her small head

No, you are, is what zings through your mind but don’t tell Snowball you thought that.

Since your knees start screaming at you to get up, you leave Jeongguk and Snowball to go check on the kettle which is at its very end of boiling the water. You get up on your tiptoes to pull out two white mugs and before grabbing your go-to peach green tea packets, you ask Jeongguk.

“Tea or coffee?”

Jeongguk looks up from Snowball curled on his lap, the body of a bright grin on his lips. “Coffee please.” When you nod, he goes back to petting the white feline without another care.

His adorable politeness removes any nerves you had or any prior sheepishness from the way your studio apartment looks. Small and decorated with all of your interests. The only people that have ever been here are your mother, Jeongyeon and Nayeon. Hookups were always at their place or a hotel so it’s a little odd to see Jeongguk seated on your floor.

But at the same time, it’s Jeongguk on your floor so you aren’t that worried.

Pouring the mugs with steaming hot water, you grab a packet of instant coffee while your tea bag steeps and you make Jeongguk his coffee. In the meantime, he’s seated by your coffee table/desk, shrugging his backpack off while Snowball sits beside Jeongguk diligently. Like she’s protecting him from whatever she thinks is going to attack him.

“I like your place,” Jeongguk says, shocking you for a moment. “It’s very,” he trails off. “Very you.”

You give him a dulled look over your shoulder. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know, it’s got all of your favorite things.” His chin gestures to the Sanrio stuffed animals, the various figurines from all of your favorite animes, the vintage posters, the bunny paraphernalia, all of your favorite things, like Jeongguk said.

You turn, pressing the small of your back to the cold counter behind you. “Your place is nice too,” you add for the sake of returning the compliment, although it is true.

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Yeah but, my landlord is a gaping asshole and hates the idea of posters and paintings since he’s scared it’ll fuck up the wall. It’s nice but it feels dead,” he gives your apartment one more look, “but yours has some personality, you know? I’m kinda jealous.”

His smile is genuine, sweet and kind. You find yourself melting from the sheer sight of it but you hold yourself back. Don’t want to look too whipped.

Exhaling with some laughter, you start bringing the mugs over along with some biscuits since it’s tea time. “The first apartment we had when we moved here was like that. The landlord didn’t even let my mom change the curtains even though the ones that came with the place had stains all over it.” Jeongguk grimaces at the thought. “But Mrs. Jeong from our Busan apartment was so nice.”

What a sweet woman. She would often come down whenever she heard one of them had a cold or if there was a birthday and she was never harsh when your mother’s checks bounced or if she needed an extra day because she hadn’t gotten paid yet. She was the reason you thought all landlords had some semblance of empathy but no.

“We lived there for about fifteen years. It sucked having to leave.”

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you moved out!” You gasp, shifting yourself to face him completely. “Is your current place closer to the bakery?”

“No, it’s actually farther but it’s closer to the center of Busan so public transport is good. Plus, noona got a car so it’s not too bad.”

You sigh. Fuck, you miss Busan so much. Even hearing the slight satoori in Jeongguk’s voice does wonders for your nostalgia as yours only peeks out when you’re angry thanks to teasing from all of the Seoul elitists.

The beach, the food, the fresh air, the streets, you miss all of it. Such a simple time. You’ve always dreamed of settling there once you’ve figured your life out. It was your end goal.

“I wanna hear more but let’s get physics out of the way first,” you tap your notebook twice and Jeongguk moves to his backpack to take some items out to start the tutoring session.

And, to no one’s shock, Jeongguk is actually a really great tutor.

He’s patient with you and doesn’t mind giving you constant encouragement when you get a bit insecure halfway through a word problem. On concepts you’re unsure about, Jeongguk explains them in the simplest way possible without getting haughty. No outbursts if you make the same mistake two times in a row, he never once calls you stupid or says you’re wasting his time. Jeongguk gently coaches you until you try to solve some problems on your own from the textbook without his help and he checks them afterwards, telling you what you did right and wrong.

Quite literally, this is all that you wanted.

Someone to answer your questions, explain a few concepts, and walk you through a couple of examples without questioning your smarts as a whole.

It’s nice. You feel safe and even better, you feel actually prepared for the quiz which is the opposite of how you felt this morning. You aren’t even worried about it at all.

After clearing through the sample quiz and practice problems easily in a matter of about 2 ½ hours, you two are all done tutoring. Which means freedom for the rest of the night.

Quickly, you connect your laptop to the small TV mounted on the wall and put on Love Island since neither of you have watched it. Jeongguk is rather curious about it since Jimin and Taehyung won’t stop talking about it, so you decide to jump into the newest season with him while leaning against your bed and pulling up the menu for the fried chicken place.

“I’m getting honey garlic,” you tell him when you hand him your phone.

“Then, I’ll do the spicy cheese one.” He leans closer instead of taking the device and you really wish he didn’t because your body reacts to the proximity with goosebumps erupting all over you like you’re a teenager again.

Your eyes flick up to his side profile, which is literally perfect. His jaw is strong, well cut, defined and his skin is the color of fresh milk tea. You can see little imperfections on his skin like old acne scars, the slightly chapped surface of his lips, and all of his shiny earrings. You love the way he looks and how Jeongguk has grown into his features. The urge to trace his jawline with your tongue is insane, almost caustic inside of you. It’s impossible to push down. You sort of dressed up for this tutoring date, throwing on a pair of your favorite panties, lathering yourself in the softest lotion; you took all of the right steps and you’re hungry for a certain ending even though there’s a high chance it won’t happen at all. The horny side of you is begging for you to shoot your shot.

But you stop. Not yet. Not right now.

While Jeongguk picks out drinks, appetizers and the dessert he wants, you rush to the bathroom for a second. In the mirror, you take notice of your reddened cheeks and parted lips and the messy wisps of hair sticking out. You quickly tie it back into a loose braid and then splash some water on your face.

Reel it back, bitch.

While in the bathroom, you call out. “Hey Jeongguk? Could you get my wallet? It’s on top of my dresser, the one next to my closet.” Might as well pay now so you can get the chicken faster.

“Okay!” He responds.

The noise your stomach makes is loud and painful. The salad you had did nothing to satiate your cravings so the thought of chicken, perfectly fried to a crisp and covered in garlicky sweet sauce has you practically salivating. Especially since you’ve been eating so healthily as of late. It’s nice to treat yourself to some fast food.

Afterwards, you trudge back on over to the coffee table and plop down silently while Jeongguk puts in your card information. Meanwhile, you remember to feed Snowball for dinner and give her some much needed attention by bringing her to sit with the two of you so she can be pet and loved.

Jeongguk’s warmth emanates from his shoulder that is inches away from you while the Love Island intro song plays at the start of every new season. Half-heartedly, you watch the corny antics as each contestant introduces themselves with the main host speaking over and you think about how much internal anguish you’re feeling at the moment.

An object prods into your forearm. You look down to see the rounded edge of your credit card. “I paid,” Jeongguk tells you. You don’t respond verbally, taking the plastic and shoving it into the slot of your card wallet.

“Thanks,” you mumble. You bring your knees up to your chest and rest your chin on top of them, hoping to get into the various shirtless tattooed guys on your television screen. It’s an easy task. Shows like Love Island don’t ask too much of you but you can get into it enough where other thoughts begin to fade.

You check your phone to see that the chicken should be delivered in about 10 minutes. Then you can have food and TV to reward you for all of your hard work.

The beginning is awkward as each person picks their couple purely based on looks and their name. You cringe when a guy comes in and no one steps up to match with him so he has to randomly choose a girl who was either too shy to step up to say she thinks he’s cute or not at all interested in him. It sounds like such an awkward place to be in and you’d hate to be on either side of the situation.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, isn’t a reality TV kind of guy. So he has a million questions and comments throughout the 57 minute episode.

“I don’t get it. They just shove 10 hot people in a house and they have to like each other?”

“Fuck, that’s how you’re supposed to say Leicester?”

“That one guy looks like such a fuck boy. Why would you ever get a chest tattoo of an eagle?”

“What happens if you don’t like anyone you match with? Can you just leave?” You shrug in response. This is your first time watching this show too. “I’d leave so fast if I was on this show. None of these people would interest me.”

“Me too,” you respond, playing with the frayed edge of an old receipt sticking out of one of the wallet pockets. “I’d get the ick so fast and then hop on the first plane back home.”

Jeongguk’s bantering turns the simple binge into something more. You start laughing, indulging his every whim, making fun of the guys trying too hard to flirt and seem suave and it’s really fun. You manage to barely remember the way you felt when you came out of the bathroom.

Is this how it should always be? Platonically hanging out?

Was it a good thing that you stopped yourself before your desires took over your logic?

You don’t know. You don’t want to either. You just want to sit back and enjoy the rest of this lovely day off.

After another few minutes of watching the show, you feel Jeongguk’s eyes on you. Wide, glittery, washing over every inch of your skin like he’s trying to commit your features to memory. You raise an eyebrow in question. For a moment, he doesn’t do anything, just stares at you, and then he points to your phone screen where a notification from the delivery app shows.

The food is here.

Quickly, you go down, slipping some slides on your feet and shoving your hands in the pockets of your sweater. The delivery person hands you the plastic bag with steaming boxes and you thank them before trundling back upstairs. The smell that wafts to you is mouth-wateringly delicious.

This. This is your treat after a grueling two weeks of school.

You bring it up for you and Jeongguk to dig into. The chicken is fresh and delicious and in combination with Jeongguk’s commentary, you start to really enjoy yourself. Especially as all your sex related thoughts begin to push to the back of your brain and the night gets more fun yet relaxing. The food is good and the drinks are refreshing.

Afterwards, you crack open a bag of kit kats to share with him to cap off the meal with something sweet since none of the desserts at the restaurant sounded appealing to either of you.

Love Island is addictive. Your friends were right about it. Two episodes later and the two of you are curious about who is the new islander coming and how they are going to shake things up.

The TV is on the wall mounted across your bed and coffee table. For the sake of your backs, you move Jeongguk to the bed and take some pillows to lean against so your backs aren’t completely sore by the next morning.

Although, you do wish your back was sore for another reason but let’s not get into that just yet.

Since you don’t have a lot of pillows, you share your main one, meaning you’re a lot closer to Jeongguk than you originally planned. To the point where your arms are pressed against each other and your legs are brushing. It makes you nervous to be this close. His perfume is a strong elixir, heady and comforting, pushing you to lean in and bury your face into the delectable skin of his neck. Even his neck, wow. The skin is so smooth, there’s a mole right in the middle of it. You want to sink your teeth into the flesh and use your lips and tongue to paint it all sorts of beautiful colors.

Sweat begins to form on your hairline. You get nervous with Jeongguk sitting so close to you, hands itching to do something. First they play around with the single star pendant on your necklace, then at a loose thread on your comforter, and then you decide to redo your hair.

The braid has become a straggly mess with you leaned against things so you pull your hair tie off and begin to undo your braid. At the very least, it is something for your hands to do, keep them occupied and away.

From Jeongguk that is. You don’t want to obstruct his view or break his attention.

Pushing off from the pillow, suddenly something happens on screen that makes your head turn abruptly to see who said what and your hair wacks Jeongguk right in the eye.

“Shit,” he hisses, clutching his face, curling inwards.

You begin to panic, turning in on your knees to get closer to him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was trying to tie my hair and then something happened on screen so I–” you stop midway, no need for an explanation. Instead, check to see if your hair scratches him in the cornea or not.

Jeongguk’s legs, that were once crossed, are now spread wide without your body taking up the space next to him on your bed. Without a second thought, you cross over the one closest to you and end up in between his two long legs. One hand on his shoulder to grab his attention.

“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly, trying to search his gaze but Jeongguk’s eyes are turned down. “Jeongguk?”

Muffled, he speaks up. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.” Jeongguk drops his hands onto his thighs before blinking a few times and you see a telltale tear pool from his big doe eyes, dripping down the slope of his cheek.

A huge wave of guilt crashes inside of you.

You made Jeongguk cry.

Not intentionally but still. He’s crying.

“Aw,” you cup his cheeks, searching his irises for anything like you’re a licensed ophthalmologist or something, wiping the stray tear with your thumb.“I’m really sorry. Do you need eye drops or anything?” You sit down on your feet, leaning closer to see him. “I can go check in my medicine box if I have any left from Spring.”

He doesn’t respond.

Jeongguk freezes immediately with you between his legs. As if all of his blood stops flowing through his veins and he’s turned to stone by Medusa. He glances at every corner of your face, at the strands of hair framing it, like he’s never seen you before. His jaw unhinges and the tip of his pink tongue is just barely visible.

You don’t even notice how close you get. So worried about the possibility of your hair scratching his cornea that you forget that your knees are brushing against his crotch. Nor do you think about how your face is near, you’re literally staring down like you’re about to kiss him despite dreaming about being in this position all day.

The only thing echoing in your mind is: Is Jeongguk okay?

Not another thought.

“I–” he stops, lips parted, “I’m okay, really.”

Jeongguk’s palm gently pushes your hands off of his cheeks and he shifts in his spot.

He’s practically shielding himself for you. His legs are pushed up to his chest now. Jeongguk looks like an animal that’s getting scolded for spilling food everywhere and you cannot understand why on earth he’d be making a face like that.

“Is something wrong?” You ask. Jeongguk covers his face but you can see his ears starting to turn red.

You inch closer to him and gently wrap your fingers around his wrist. You’re so close you can smell the gentle perfume he’s sprayed on his neck and the inviting scent of his hair serum. But he’s wriggling around like a fish out of water and it’s scaring you.

His hands move down, ripping his wrist out of your grip to cover up his crotch and you see a glimpse of the obvious bulge poking from his sweatpants.

Oh.

You recoil, muscles tightening as your brain moves a mile a minute. Something Jeongguk must sense from you because he starts explaining way faster than you thought he would.

“I’m sorry! This is–I can leave if you’d like–”

“It’s okay, Jeongguk,” you mumble. Your voice is soft.

It’s okay. It’s more than okay.

It’s better than okay.

Jeongguk continues to panic, deaf to your obvious nonchalance about him popping a boner right after you almost blinded him. “I don’t–It just sort of happened-and-and I wasn’t like–thinking a-about you or doing anything–it just,” he pauses midway, sighs to catch his breath, stops nervously stuttering, and then turns to get up which makes you a little nervous. “I’ll go to the bathroom and get rid of it–”

In a flash, your hand wraps around his wrist to stop him from moving.

“It’s okay,” you repeat. “I’m not grossed out.” Literally, you are the complete opposite of that but barely you mull it over one last time before speaking up again. “I could fix it, if you’d like.” Just before your conscience could stop you.

This is it. This is your chance to have him. Just once, satiate that need, and then you can go back to normal.

The universe practically handed you this opportunity on a golden platter so you should take it. Given that Jeongguk is down too.

His eyes go adorably wide. “W-what?” Jeongguk stutters.

“I could help you deal with it.” You say once more.

At least your voice is clear and sure. On the inside, you’re just a giant piece of adrenaline.

Jeongguk relaxes some more, gulping, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob. His shoulders broaden like he’s trying to seem confident but you can tell that he’s nervous as fuck too.

“Why would you do that?”

Oh, you pretty thing. You have no idea, do you?

“I don’t mind,” you shrug. Feeling bold, the hand that rests on his shoulder squeezes the mass indulgently and Jeongguk feels exquisite. You want to rip all of these clothes off of his body. “You helped me with physics so,” trailing off, as if it’s the only logical solution to this problem.

To you, it feels like it is. Trade an A on a quiz for an orgasm.

Plus, you finally get to rid yourself of this intense sexual tension building inside of you. A combination of your hormones and your loneliness all cooked up to make a touch-starved mess at the tiniest thing. Being with Jeongguk could be just what you need to get your focus back on yourself. He’s gorgeous, inside and out, so there’s no intense guilt to bubble from letting some douchebag grow an even bigger ego by sleeping with you.

Jeongguk is still apprehensive. “You… you know you don’t-like-owe it to me to fix this, right? Just because I got hard doesn’t mean it’s your job to do something for me.”

You’re taken aback.

Most guys wouldn’t have even protested. Your mouth would be on his dick and the minute they come, you’d be all alone. They’re the types to view sex in a very individualistic manner.

A dopey smile makes its way to your lips. “I know. This isn’t a really transactional thing.” You cup his cheek with one hand this time and trace the deep scar there absentmindedly. “I actually want to do this.”

If Jeongguk were to hear the insane things your brain produces, you wonder if he’d run for the hills or be flattered. Definitely the former.

“Okay but um,” he avoids your eyes, looking off to the side and you sort of love Jeongguk like this. It’s so different from his nonchalant easygoing behavior. “I’ve never,” he searches for the words, changes his mind halfway through, and finds another path. “No one has ever like-oh god this is embarrassing–”

You decide to save him. “No one’s ever given you a blowjob?”

He nods behind his hands that rose to cover his reddening face during his reveal. God, he’s adorable.

“Really?”

“Is that such a surprise?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re hot.” You say truthfully. His change of expression does wonders for your confidence. So much so that you decide to bite the bullet and run a hand through his hair affectionately. “How far have you gone?”

The strands are silky smooth, flowing through your fingers like water, and Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation as he mumbles out a response.

“I kissed someone but only a few times. I got dragged to a high school party and played spin the bottle but nothing more than that.”

This is new for you. Almost every guy you’ve ever been with is experienced or way more experienced than you. From the guy in high school who took your virginity all the way to Wooshik. And they varied from vanilla guys to those who are super into the dom/sub spiel. You’ve never been the experienced one and it feels different.

Like you’re corrupting him, forcibly taking away something precious. Like Mrs. Robinson on the prowl for someone younger whom she can use to her advantage.

And even though that isn’t the case with you and Jeongguk, you want this to be different than your first time. If anything, you want him to feel safe and wanted and to let him know that, at any point, if he wants to stop then it will stop. Just like there’s no obligation for you to make him feel good, there is no obligation for him to return the favor.

“Then let’s start with that and then we can move on if you’re comfortable. Or we don’t have to do anything and we can just forget about it. Whatever you want.”

You won’t do anything unless he wants you to. As much as you want to touch him, as much as you need sex, you’re totally fine with taking things at his pace.

And if he rejects this entire thing and opts to fix his situation in the bathroom, that’s okay too.

Jeongguk presses the back of his head against the wall in thought, giving you an amazing view of his jawline, until he shyly speaks. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You want to be sure, hiding the fact that you are utterly elated on the inside. Jeongguk just turns more red as he avoids your eyes peering into him.

“You–we can start. I-if that’s what you want.”

You exhale through your nose. “Oh, you have no idea how much I want to.”

Before he can question you, you lean down and gently connect your lips with his.

There’s a moment where it feels foreign, where your body becomes covered with goosebumps at the sheer adrenaline coursing through you and the way your brain freaks out at the change. This is happening, you’re finally doing this, but you take a second to just press and feel. Be in the moment and stop trying to control everything, then you’re fine.

It’s easy because Jeongguk’s lips are pillowy soft.

Starting off with a quick peck, you split for a second, nose brushing, and then you kiss Jeongguk again. This time it’s much stronger. Any lack of confidence melts when your lips move languidly against Jeongguk. He’s responsive to your every movement, feeling the inside of your mouth with his own, while his hands rest appropriately on your hips. His lip balm is rose flavored and delectable. Jeongguk is a good kisser.

The noises fill the quiet apartment as you move closer and cup his jaw on one side while your other hand goes back to his silky soft hair to move your lips cohesively. You adjust yourself so that instead of kneeling between his legs, you’re straddling his thick muscular thighs and they feel exquisite against you, pulling a soft sigh from your lips.

Jeongguk must feel your exhale, gaining some bravado to take the lead when he kisses you, setting the pace as his own hands begin to move from their comfortable spot on your hips. Part of you really wants to push them down to your ass to feel those big sexy hands grab a handful but you want to wait to see what he does.

He kisses you a little wet but wanton, igniting a deep burning flame inside of you. It’s bright, hot, and you can’t pull yourself away from him the more your lips collide, suckle, and slot.

Jeongguk’s hands begin tracing up your back with a feather-light touch, and your lips part at the feeling when he unexpectedly inches his tongue into your mouth.

Looks like he wasn’t lying when he said he’s kissed before.

Crackles of pleasure bubble in you. Kissing can turn you on, if the guy is good at what he does, and Jeongguk is doing just that. That throbbing sensation takes over and you find yourself clenching around nothing, dreaming of having something just fill you just how you like. His tongue tangles with yours. The kiss starts to get much sloppier, something you didn’t realize you were craving until now, and you rise up on your knees while gently tugging on his hair in a flash of atypical roughness on your end.

Your mind refuses to process that this is Jihyo’s little brother who is kissing you silly. Right now, he’s Jeongguk.

Jeongguk with the gorgeous eyes and the gorgeous body who got hard the moment you inched closer.

You decide to grind down on him, especially when the curve of his bulge becomes more prominent against your ass, and Jeongguk muffles a noise into your mouth. The fabric of your underwear drags across your neglected clit, pulling another sigh out of you. It’s a small jolt of pleasure and you can feel yourself dampen even more. From the action and from the way Jeongguk sounds.

Another moan comes from Jeongguk when you grind against him again and again, whiny yet soft. It’s doing something to you. His hands squeeze your hips and then one drifts to the back of your thigh.

Pulling away to catch your breath, you press your forehead against his. There’s a thin layer of sweat building on your skin but your arms loop comfortably around Jeongguk’s neck, tugging his body forwards. His eyes glimmer at you, with kiss-bruised lips and the beginnings of his pearly white bunny teeth peeking out from between. You resist the urge to dive down again, instead wanting to appreciate the absolute view you have right now.

Your fingers tangle in a lock of his soft black hair. “You’re so gorgeous,” you whisper, taking in his forehead, his jawline, his perfect nose, and every single one of his moles.

Jeongguk, who is already blushed and heavily breathing, gets even more shy at your compliment, looking away from you to avoid your teasing smile. Which just makes you want to shower him in more praise just to see how embarrassed he can get.

“So pretty, so handsome,” your finger traces his jaw before going down to his unblemished neck where the skin looks so soft but the area is taut and beautiful. You want to see how he’d look with hickeys. “I want to mark you,” you point to the middle of the right side of his neck, “right here.”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows raise to his hairlines. “You want to give me a hickey?” He says incredulously. You nod.

“I want you to remember this.”

Usually, you aren’t the possessive type but you think about Juri, walking through campus and finding Jeongguk, someone that she’s expressed interest in, like this. Covered in marks you left, reeling after the pleasure you gave him. You know the chance is unlikely and if Jeongguk were to run into her, you doubt he’d tell her any bit of what you two had done but it’s the principle of it all.

That she can be a misogynistic pick-me/not-like-the-other girl all she wants, you still pull better than she ever will.

Maybe then, she’ll keep your name out of her damn mouth.

Jeongguk exhales quietly, holding some weight. “Do you actually think I’ll forget this?”

You smirk. “Dunno, but I can’t let a pretty little thing like you get away, can I? Especially with all of those other girls who love to stare.”

It happens often whenever you two would be walking from class or on public transport and people would stare at Jeongguk. Not that you’d blame them. With a face like that, Jeongguk could debut as an idol and win the hearts of millions, he could act or model even, but then you become more aware of the fact that someone even better could scoop him up at any time and you wouldn’t stand a chance against them.

“I won’t,” he starts, shaking his head with eyes so honest and truthful that you almost collapse in his hold. “I won’t go away and I won’t forget, okay?” Jeongguk pleads with you, holding your body still with two exact hands on your hips.

You swear your stomach feels a group of butterflies flapping about, along with unicorns and rainbows and glitter and all of that silly shit when Jeongguk says that. The hand in his hair cups his cheek, thumb tracing his cheekbone.

“You won’t?”

“Never,” Jeongguk presses firmly. “And,” he hesitates for a moment, “and I’m not looking at anyone else right now, either. There’s just you.”

There’s just you.

The sentence sounds like a confession. Like he’s being honest while you were just being horny and possessive. You feel your act drop, whatever front you were putting up, it drops, and you don’t know what to say at first.

The truth? You aren’t thinking about anyone else either. You don’t want to. You want Jeongguk. There’s only Jeongguk right now.

Had this been with any other person, you wouldn’t feel comfortable being honest with them. You wouldn’t trust them not to use that against you but you know Jeongguk and you trust Jeongguk more than anything.

“I… I’m not looking at anyone either,” you manage to mumble out. Now you’re the one who is all red and shy.

And watching Jeongguk’s expression change when you said that… priceless.

He stares at you like you hung all of the stars in the sky, that you push the sun up in the sky every morning, like the dew droplets on the blades of grass, like it was just you.

It’s perfect yet so much at the same time. You want to say more but you don’t know what else you could say so you meet his gaze, then dip down to his lips, and he nods so you lean in to kiss him again.

He makes a noise of surprise, immediately licking fiercely into your mouth to meet the movements of your lips. Slowly, Jeongguk pulls away from the wall and begins moving down to lay against the bed, holding himself up with a forearm on the soft material and strengthening his hold on you so you wouldn’t slip off from him.

You feel Jeongguk grin against your lips at your eagerness but he maintains the energy. Arching your back a little, mostly for show, you reach back and push one of Jeongguk’s hands further down to your ass. He’s been so careful and gentle with you so far and, as nice as it is, you want more. His eyebrows furrow against you, curling his palm over the tangible curve before giving your ass a tentative squeeze and pulling a muffled moan from you.

So Jeongguk does it again. Does it with more vigor, digging his fingers into the flesh of your cheek and grinding his hips upwards. Gets you throbbing insufferably and so wet.

“Jeongguk,” you gasp into his mouth, meeting the movement of his hips with your own. The bulge in his pants becomes really prominent as you break the kiss, moving down his strong jawline to his perfect neck.

Whatever perfume he uses, the smell is strong now, filling your olfactory senses with sweet powdery softness. Your lips search for that spot you ache to mark, digging your teeth into the gentle flesh and soothing the area over with your tongue.

The noise he makes…

Jeongguk whimpered when you were sucking and biting on his skin.

It took so much willpower for you to not rip his damn top off when that sound reached your ears. You were so wet and throbbing in your pants, desperate for some form of touch besides your soaked underwear against your clit. If you could, you’d cover his entire body with hickeys, paint his neck all sorts of beautiful colors if it were socially acceptable for someone to be walking around like that and not have everyone’s immediate thought be that he got jumped or something.

But you practice restraint and suck on the hot skin, kissing, and doing your best to keep yourself under control even if your wetness was starting to become bothersome. Jeongguk’s hands on your ass don’t help with that either.

The hold helps you feel the shape of his fingers which are pretty long and thick. You’ve seen them writing, typing, gripping onto the pole in the subway so the veins and tendons pop out and you’ve reached a conclusion that you need to feel them inside of you. Pumping deep and slow. Since the digits are longer than yours, they would reach that damned spot inside, turn you into a shaking, coming, mess. You crave that.

Even before Wooshik, these dry spells weren’t uncommon. You know that it’s just your monthly horror revving up the hormones that’s making you want some dick like water in a desert but still.

A girl has her needs. Especially when said girl is constantly hanging around a hot guy.

Once you pull away from his neck after creating a total of three hickeys, you sit up. All of the kissing and petting and grinding has made you all sweaty so you quickly pull off your quarter-zip hoodie, leaving the plain t-shirt you have on underneath with no bra.

Jeongguk’s eyes fall to the way your breasts lift and fall with the movement, jiggling into place as you throw the piece of clothing somewhere. The change in temperature has your nipples straining against the thin material and you can tell his attention has shifted.

With a cocked brow, you smirk. “Want my shirt off?” You ask, slowly twisting the hem around a single finger.

“Yeah.”

His hands give your ass another appreciative squeeze. One that nearly has you dropping the control but you rebuild quickly.

“Take this off then.” You place a hand down on the base of his stomach. Jeongguk’s shirt is thin so you can feel his stomach through the fabric. You need it off asap.

Jeongguk’s lips part. You think he’s going to deny at first. Maybe he isn’t comfortable showing you his body yet. That’s okay; you don’t mind. Whatever he’s comfortable with, right?

But in a split second, he grips the gray fabric and sits up slightly to peel it off of his body and gives you a view of what he has underneath.

Which is just exquisite.

Jeongguk treats his body like it’s a work of art. When he isn’t gaming or studying, he’s in the gym and he has one of the strictest meal plans you ever see. Allowing himself one cheat meal out of the week and then sticking to his rice, steamed veggie and lean meats for the rest of the days. And that dedication shows in the way his body looks.

While still being thin and put together, his stomach is defined with steel-cut abs and his obliques are enviable along with sturdy shoulders, firm chest and deliciously bulky arms.

You’ve never really cared about the body of whoever you were sleeping with. Muscles are nice and hot but they aren’t a necessity. Honestly, having a handsome/pretty face can get a guy farther than a six pack but now you might be changing your mind on that stance. Because Jeongguk has a pretty face and a six pack.

Or is that a twelve pack? You didn’t really count.

A single finger starts at Jeongguk’s sternum, tracing down his body to the waistband of his sweats, taking your time to appreciate every patch of skin and flesh. You inch backwards so you are sitting more on his thighs than his lap where his bulge is firmly straining against his pants. Looking all inviting. Your thighs clench together to relieve yourself from the lack of attention.

But before you can wrap your hands around him, Jeongguk’s fingers close around your wrist to stop you.

“You said if I took my shirt off, you would too,” he reminds you. His tone is low, barely teetering into a domineering one. Brings a rush of arousal to your pussy and you immediately bite the inside of your cheek.

Jeongguk ordering you around is… really hot.

“Eager.”

The plain t-shirt is rather unflattering on the outside so you do away with it quickly, feeling the mass of your breasts lift and bounce back down while adjusting to the temperature change. Your nipples are hard and goosebumps cover your upper body.

But that’s mainly caused by the way Jeongguk’s eyes practically ravish you.

You wonder if he’s more of an ass guy or a boob guy. Because his grip has stayed on the plump curve of your backside but his tongue swipes over his bottom lip while staring at your tits like he’s at the Louvre and he has two seconds to take a glance at the Mona Lisa.

There’s a sense of vulnerability to have him look at you like this. Like you’re something perfect when all everyone else, including yourself, does is point out your faults.

It’s too much. You need to make a move, get his eyes off of you, so your hand goes back to the waistline of his pants where his boxer band flashes quickly. Calvin Klein, black in color to match the color of his sweatpants.

“Can I?” You ask, looking down at the heavy print showing through the material and your mouth waters.

Jeongguk nods immediately. “Please.”

Carefully, you peel back the first layer of clothing. The tight elastic pressure around his waist is enough to slowly peel back Jeongguk’s boxers, exposing the beginning of his ilium but then he raises his hips some more until his sweatpants are pushed a little past the beginning of his quad muscles. You desperately want to see the sinew on his legs because you’ve been feeling them flex and move against you this entire time and they are just to your expectations. His skin is soft, a little tanned, thin hairs barely visible on his thighs from the hallowed light.

“What do you want? My hand or my mouth?”

You said a blowjob but whatever he wants, you will do.

His eyes darken with lust. “Y-your hand, first,” Jeongguk stutters, shaking some hair off his sweaty forehead. You try not to smile excitedly at the word first.

“Okay.”

After pressing one more kiss on his perfect nose, your palm cups his bulge. Against the material, you can see somewhat of a defined shape. It’s thick, impressive looking, and your wetness is soaking through your pants, effectively ruining the pair but that’s the least of your concerns. You fight the urge to grind into something, relieve some of the throbbing pressure from your core, clenching around nothing in hopes that it will fix.

Jeongguk says your name carefully, checking to see if you’re still okay with continuing and your attention is back on him. You give him a wry smile in response and then work on slowly tugging his boxers off of his hips to free his cock.

You gasp when his length slaps against his bare stomach, incapable of holding it in.

He’s big and thick; bigger and thicker than any guy you’ve ever been with. Jeongguk’s dick is pretty. Two veins trailing up the sides and pulsating with blood, the tip peeking with a small droplet of pearly white pre-cum.

“Fuck,” you curse, reaching a hand forward to barely wrap around him. Your fingers manage to encompass the whole circumference but you can only accredit that to your long digits. Otherwise he would be too girthy.

Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut when you pump his length once. His jawline strains sexily as little puffs of air escape his lips. He looks so good when he’s pleased. As if he was made to only look like that. The emotion sits perfectly on his pretty features.

A bead of pearly white fluid seeps from the stop, collecting slightly over the flesh-toned head. You lick your lips. “I don’t think you’ll fit in my mouth.”

“W-what?” He stammers.

“You’re too big, baby,” you purr, panicking momentarily about the pet name. “Shit,” swearing under your breath when you feel him twitch. Then, you let a fat drop of spit fall from your mouth and onto the head to aid your hand gliding up and down. “My throat will definitely be sore tomorrow.”

Not that you’re complaining.

The boy beneath you flushes. “I–” his breathing quickening when your hand works over him expertly, barely a moan. “You–um–you don’t have to,” Jeongguk offers.

You coo, reaching forward to boop Jeongguk’s cute little nose with your free hand, still slowly jerking his cock with the other, giving the fat length a nice squeeze at the base. “But I want to,” forcing a pout and watching his gaze turn heady with euphoria. “Don’t you want me to use my mouth? To suck you off nice and properly?”

This is new for you. You are usually rather submissive in bed and you’ve always liked it that way. If anything, you sought after guys who were more dominant because it was an immediate turn-on for you but now that you’ve made Jeongguk all pliant and soft, you can’t stop. He just looks so perfect. His eyes clench shut, creases appearing at the sides when your hands squeeze his length teasingly on the upstroke, legs going more rigid.

Jeongguk doesn’t respond at first so you lean down, holding yourself up with one hand splayed on the mattress, right next to his head, and increase the pace of your hand. You pay special attention to the tip and the spot right under where he’s sensitive, rubbing a thumb over the area to collect more precum on the way down his cock. Jeongguk sputters out a soft noise, gritting his teeth tightly.

“You have to tell me what you want, Jeongguk,” you muse. The tips of your noses graze, your breasts meeting his hot skin. Jeongguk’s hands, which switched to curling into the fabric of your duvet, go to your thighs to squeeze them. At that point, you decide to only stimulate the head of his cock with the pad of your thumb, rubbing teasingly tight circles while Jeongguk leaks all over, rivulets of creamy white decorating his length. “My hands? Or my mouth? What do you want me to do?”

Jeongguk goes crazy. His back arches off the mattress along with a high whine emitting from his swollen lips. He looks so overwhelmed with red cheeks and his hands gripping onto your body like it’s a lifeline.

“Y-your mouth! I want your mouth, please,” he whines once more, digging his nails into your thighs, surely leaving indents. You smile, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips before descending down his taut body.

Jeongguk is a work of art after all and you need time to appreciate him.

Your hands stop their tortuous movement, leaving Jeongguk’s cock to hold yourself up while inching down. You kiss down the right side of his neck. The skin is salty from sweat but you don’t mind. You kiss all the marks you left, the mole on his chest, the beginning of his abs (you pay special attention to this area), licking up a stripe to feel the ridges of his body before you end up on your knees in between his legs.

While you were kissing him, Jeongguk kicked his sweatpants off his legs, allowing you to capture a full glimpse of his meaty thighs. His skin is flawless and soft looking and you bookmark the thought of leaving red lines atop his thighs while riding him like a fucking stallion for later.

His length deliciously twitches again from the brief lack of touch. You eye it for a split second, mouth watering, before taking the head between your lips. He throws his head back in satisfaction.

Jeongguk tastes good. A mix of skin, salt, but he isn’t bitter; soft, pliable skin meets the plush membrane in your mouth. You moan out while your tongue circles the head, awarding you with a fresh spurt of pre-cum.

Giving head isn’t everyone’s favorite (totally understandable) but it’s definitely yours. You don’t know why, maybe you have an oral fixation that you don’t know about, but it always makes you wet and desperate for more. Especially when the guy you’re blowing has hot moans like Jeongguk does.

“Fuck,” he drawls out, while your tongue moves over him. He wraps a hand around the back of your hair gently, barely pushing you down to take more of him into your mouth.

Ideally, you’d punish Jeongguk for that. If you were continuing this dominatrix stint you have going on then he shouldn’t be pushing you and trying to choke you but you drop the whole act.

Because he feels so good.

Your wetness is trickling down the swell of your ass as more of your mouth stretches to accommodate his length. The back of his head is about to reach the back of your throat when you wrap a hand around to pump what you can’t reach. It’ll be impossible to take him all in one go. You need to warm up first. Fat rivulets of spit trail down to his base and collect there to ease your ministrations.

“So good,” Jeongguk praises, tangling his fingers in your hair while the wet sucking noises filter through your apartment. “You’re s-so good at this.”

Jeongguk’s low voice isn’t helping you. Another pathetically whiny noise is muffled by his big dick going back into your mouth, swallowing around the tip as you take a little more than before.

Swirling your mouth, using the inside of your cheek, the side of your tongue and the puckered membrane of your lips in conjunction with your nimble hands, jacking his thick cock and feeling the skin get hotter, wetter, with every second that passes by.

He’s probably big enough to make you squirt. Though, you are the type to squirt easily, but guys around his size tend to hit the g-spot head on, to turn you into a shaking, coming, moaning mess in their arms. The thought really gets you going, imagining yourself sinking down on him like a Queen perched on her throne and spilling all over his thighs with a loud noise.

Would he like it? Would he want to see you do it again?

Fuck, you need a little bit of friction here. The combination of sucking him off, Jeongguk’s breathy whiny noises, and the deranged thoughts in your brain make your pussy so needy, demanding attention.

You think about reaching back and rubbing yourself, just for a second, but your brain is too transfixed on Jeongguk.

“P-please don’t stop-p,” he begs, “Please–Ah, yes.” Sounding like he’s about to cry.

Your wrist flicks up during your motions while you pay special attention to the head. Jeongguk twitches some more and judging by how hard he grips your hair, he must be close.

So you make sure your tongue stimulates all of the areas that make Jeongguk quiver in your hold. Your back arches, suckling at the skin.

“Can I,” he interrupts himself with a moan, hands shaking, “Can I cum in your mouth?” He asks politely.

You pull off with a breathy sigh, moving your hand to respond. “Please.” You want to taste more of him, until he’s filling your throat up completely.

Sinking back down, you take in as much of him as you can, deep-throating his cock to the best of your abilities. It’s wet, the noises are filthy, salacious, but you don’t really care that much. Jeongguk’s cock twitches again as he spurts into your mouth, awarding you with his release as he whines throughout.

And like a good girl, you swallow every last drop, refusing to let even a tiny drop of it go to waste.

Jeongguk pants. His fingers slip out of your ratty hair and his hand slap over his forehead while he collects himself. His thighs shake with the aftershocks of his orgasm, sweat collected at the enticing dip of his collarbones, making his skin look like it’s speckled with diamonds. While you sit up slowly and wipe the back of your mouth, tucking his slowly softening length back into his boxers with a soft pat.

For a few seconds, he doesn’t say anything to you. All Jeongguk does is try to catch his breath, probably slow his heart rate a bit.

In that short period of time, your brain speeds at 100 miles per second. Did Jeongguk like it? Did Jeongguk hate it? Will he let you do it again? Oh my god, do you want to do it again and again and again. Is he uncomfortable around you now? What next?

Your thighs are folded under you, watching Jeongguk’s stomach tense and flex as he leans on his elbows to look at you.

His lips are adorable pouty and the hickeys look really pretty on his skin. You want so much more from him but you’re too afraid to vocalize it. You don’t want to stop. You don’t want to wake up and force this memory out of your brain. Jeongguk is so pretty and perfect and so easy to want.

“C’mere,” he says softly, exhaling quickly with a stupid grin. Unsure if he meant his lap or right next to him, you shuffle closer until Jeongguk pats the space next to his body and you move accordingly. Hands an knees on the bed like a slinking cat.

The air, which was once zinging with tension, has simmered down a little. Jeongguk’s arm stretches out for you to lean your head on his bicep. Up close, his eyes sparkle more than the stars in the night sky as Jeongguk pushes all of the loose strands of hair out of your sweaty face.

“You were really good,” he repeats. “Thank you for that.”

It feels weird to be thanked for sucking dick so you shake your head. “No need to thank me.” And because it doesn’t hurt to be truthful, you open your mouth once more. “I really wanted to.”

Jeongguk’s expression warms; his smile gets wider and his cheeks get rounder. His thumb traces the curve of your jaw, dancing over your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory again.

“So can I return the favor?”

Your heart leaps to your throat. You were sure Jeongguk was under the impression that this was a simple blowie, the end. Nothing else and nothing more. Even though you wanted more, you were ready to leave this romp at that but he proves you wrong once again.

You raise an eyebrow. “You want to?”

Most guys don’t. Most guys give up the second they cum without even offering.

But Jeongguk fucking smirks when he noticed your shocked expression. “I really want to,” he copies you.

Fuck, you think. You put on a nice pair of underwear thinking that this would happen and then the entire tutoring session you were gaslighting yourself into thinking that nothing would ever happen and now here you are.

There’s no doubt in your mind that you want this. Your panties are soaked and your core is aching to be touched. You need it so bad that you might never forgive yourself for turning this down.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Jeongguk repeats.

“Touch me. Please Jeongguk,” you plead with him, placing a soft hand on his warm chest. The breath is just about to escape you when he leans in to kiss you with his supple lips.

You almost cringe. You must taste like him and you’re sure that there’s still some moisture collected in the corner of your mouth but Jeongguk doesn’t care. He licks hotly into your mouth, taking control during the kiss which surprises you completely.

Gone is the shy whimpering boy who begged you not to stop. Jeongguk’s fingers squeeze your hips then pull one of your legs over his thighs so that you get even closer to him and your center is more exposed. That same hand travels upwards to your tits and cups the mass, and it’s your turn to shake in his hold.

He’s starting off perfectly, like he knows what moves drive you crazy just by looking at you.

You sigh softly when your lips break and he begins kissing down your neck. Unlike you, Jeongguk doesn’t leave any marks. Instead, he’s strategic about creating a clean line from your mouth, smooching along your jaw, then the side of your neck, to the middle of your collarbones before meeting your boobs. Jeongguk hauls you up the bed a little so he’s facing your chest instead, bringing your body closer with a splayed hand on your back.

“Jeongguk,” you try, unsure as to why you’re calling him out. Jeongguk pays you no attention, transfixed by your naked breasts. He expels something inaudible under his breath and then takes one of your nipples into his mouth while tweaking the other, causing your body to go rigid.

His lips wrap around the bud, sucking and circling his tongue over it while his other hand tweaks and pulls at the other. Like his tongue, his finger moves in time to turn you into a pile of mush. You grind onto nothing, wishing it was his thigh instead because you need friction from how wet and needy you’ve become in the span of like 20 minutes.

Moaning out at the feeling of him slowly stimulating you, Jeongguk switches to the other one until your nipples are left shiny, wet, and puffy from his lips and tongue.

He picks up fast, it seems. While kissing down your stomach, he asks you, “What do you want me to do?” Just like you did.

“Anything,” you respond. You don’t care what he does, you just want him to do something.

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Gotta give me a real answer,” he pulls up a little closer to your face, cupping your swollen bottom lip thanks to all of his work. “Tell me.”

“I,” you start. In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind anything from him. But you feel the length of his fingers, thick and perfect, and you remember your pressing desire of having them inside of you. “I want your fingers,” deciding on that.

He grins softly at how cute you become when you’re overwhelmed. Jeongguk doesn’t wait around any longer, fingers going to the waistline of your yoga pants and tugging them down slowly. They’re tight, sticking to you like a second skin, so they snag along the meat of your thighs. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to mind as the fabric bunches up into a little ring and you kick it off to a random spot on your floor.

Cold air meets your soaked underwear, making you cringe at the feeling, totally unaware of the way Jeongguk gapes at the flimsy little thing hugging your hips. He gently traces the band over your pelvis, almost like he’s hesitation.

You open your mouth, ready to check in to see if Jeongguk still wants to do this for you or not, but before you can, his fingers dip into your panties to feel just how wet you are from him.

His expression morphs beautifully. “You’re…” he’s speechless at first. Jeongguk’s finger trails up and down your center, barely grazing your sensitive clit.

A whimper escapes you. His touch is feather light and barely enough yet so much all at once.

“Fuck,” he groans, hiding his face into crook of your neck, soaking up all of your arousal while his ears and neck get bright red. You’d be embarrassed by the rushing gush coating you even more if Jeongguk’s thumb hadn’t stopped at your clit to draw tight, short, slow circles.

Such a gentle pace, way less intense than the bullet vibrator you’ve been using, and the pressure builds gradually. One of your hands wind in his hair and the other grips his bicep, openly feeling him up.

“Fucking soaked,” Jeongguk grits, moving his thumb a little faster.

Your eyes shut. “Oh J–” interrupted by a shaky noise spilling from your mouth. Jeongguk takes that as a good sign, deciding to torture you even further by moving his lips back to your stiffened nipples and using his tongue to suck and lick at them as if you aren’t already sensitive.

“You’re pretty too, noona,” Jeongguk says, looking at you this time. Slowly, your eyes peel open to find his big brown irises glimmering at you. “I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

You blush immediately. You don’t know why this feels so intensely intimate, like a pan that’s gotten too hot. Is it Jeongguk’s tone, the fact that he’s so close, the way he looks at you to make sure you know and understand him? What is it that has you so stupefied by such a simple comment?

Boys have called you pretty before, called you much worse too, but you should be used to it. Over the years you’ve started to develop a thick skin but this one gets to you.

That flutter of butterflies comes back, dancing from the tip of your toes all the way to your head. Jeongguk has seen you grow, from a kid to a pre-teen and now an adult.

And he still finds you beautiful. Even after every embarrassing phase.

You begin to smile, cupping his cheeks and leaning down to press a short kiss to his lips, then the corner of his lips, his cheek and his nose, because he deserves it and he’s cute.

“Thanks,” you mean it, even if the sweet moment cut all of the flourishing beginnings of an orgasm from you and Jeongguk’s fingers halted, out of your underwear and holding your hip instead.

Jeongguk mirrors your expression. Then he looks down at where his hand is and back up at you, nervously tonguing his cheek. “Can I move now?”

You nod your head yes quickly after he asks.

“And…” Jeongguk still looks awkward. You go back to cupping his soft cheeks. “Tell me if I’m doing okay?”

You want to melt in his grip. “Of course, Guk.” Thumb swiping over his cheekbone affectionately.

Jeongguk takes that as the greenlight and slips his fingers back into your underwear. His gaze is on you, studying your features when his thumb goes back to your clit while his middle finger teases around your opening. You clench, desperate for something to slip inside of you, lifting your hips up in hope that Jeongguk would take the hint and put his fingers inside but he continues collecting your arousal to get his digits wet enough.

“Jeongguk,” you call tightly, digging your nails into the meat of his shoulders. He hums in response. “I need more.”

His thumb decides to go faster at your demand but not fast enough and his middle finger still traces your opening instead of slipping inside.

“More?” He repeats, lilting his voice teasingly.

Shithead.

“Yes, more.” You want to whine, kick your legs even.

He can feel how wet you’ve gotten, does he not know how much you want this?

“You want my fingers?”

“Yes,” you grumble but it sweetens at the end because his thumb starts moving faster over your clit and you feel the waves of pleasure swirling in your stomach, turning into a half-moan.

Jeongguk angles his hand a little differently and, gently, pushes his middle finger inside you. He groans at the feeling of you. “So tight,” breathing out against your skin.

You react immediately, throwing your head back. There’s a slight pinch but it's not even the slightest bit painful. The intrusion is welcomed; although small, you need it. Jeongguk’s finger is nice and long and he pistons it out of you with so much care while hitting just the spot.

“Fuck, right there,” you moan out, turning your face into the soft material of your sheets, eyes rolling back.

Jeongguk slips another finger in and he stops teasing your throbbing bundle of nerves to focus fully on moving his digits, curving them upwards to your walls as you release a symphony of noises. Finding that soft spongy part inside of you and massaging it.

“F-faster please, please, go faster,” begging him out of the fear that he’ll tease you just like he was doing before.

But Jeongguk plays fair and fingers you even faster, upping the ante even more by removing his free hand and pressing down on your lower stomach, right before your pelvis.

And you lose it.

The pressure from his hand on top, plus the way his fingers are moving, just becomes too much. The gradual pressure starts accelerating and accelerating until it drops like a rollercoaster and you feel a burst of tingling pleasure rush through your veins and all over your body.

“I’m cumming!” Crying out, tears pooling inside your eyes streaming down your cheeks as your legs shake with the crashing waves of your orgasm.

Different than when you do it. As good as your vibrator is, something about it has yet to make you orgasm like this. Heavy, powerful, almost numbing. Waves crash inside you, again and again, cresting at the peak and slowly simmering out into a soft current and then nothing at all.

Your breath comes out in heavy pants, limbs feeling like jelly, slowly opening your eyes to find Jeongguk staring back at you in bewilderment. His lips are parted but his cheeks aren’t red with embarrassment. If anything, he looks like the complete opposite of that.

Like he could watch you do that again and again. Something you would gladly agree with.

Jeongguk takes his fingers out from your underwear, glistening with your arousal, and before you can offer him a napkin, he slips his digits into his mouth and cleans them off. You really begin to question if this man is a virgin or secretly a sex god waiting to be discovered. He’s way better than you were when you were inexperienced. Does he watch a lot of porn?

Or do Taehyung and Jimin just talk about sex around him too much? Must be that.

“Mmh,” his fingers come out with a soft pop noise, “You taste amazing.” Jeongguk’s clean hand brushes some hair out of your face as he smiles. You lean into his touch like a purring kitten, curling into his chest because your entire body feels weak.

“You okay?” Jeongguk asks, closing his arms around you.

Nodding into his chest, “Yeah. Felt really good.” You want to say more but there’s no energy for you to do so.

“Did it? You looked really hot when,” trailing off, you know what he means, and you press a kiss to his chest. “Kinda want to see it again.”

That takes your attention.

Removing the fact that you haven’t been touched in a bit, two orgasms from Jeongguk might put your legs out of commission and that was just with his fingers. You can’t imagine what it would be like with more of him, especially as he learns more about how to pleasure you and gets better. Your poor vibrator might be out of a job.

“I would love to, but you definitely wore me out.” Pulling your face away, you look up at his perfectly crafted face. “Can we try that another time?”

Another time, you get giddy even before he agrees. After getting addicted to Jeongguk’s touch, you don’t want to entertain the idea of this being a one time thing.

“Of course.” And neither does he.

Jeongguk kisses the top of your head gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back. You tangle your legs with his, inhaling his scent and doing your best not to fall asleep.

It feels sticky and wet between your legs. You should change and you should get ready for bed. Jeongguk probably wants to go back to his house, right? He probably doesn’t want to stick around your place after what just happened.

But you think about it and that’s the farthest thing you want.

Being in his arms, you feel safe and protected, like you drifted off to another dimension where nothing bad has ever happened and you were still the girl you were when you left Busan. Happy and lively.

You don’t want him to leave you. You don’t want this to be another shitty hookup or one-time thing that makes both of you blush and walk-away. You just want Jeongguk to be in your life.

So you hold on tight, avoiding his eyes when you ask: “Do you want to stay here with me tonight?”

Please, please, you beg internally. You’ll make breakfast, there’s a pack of toothbrushes under your sink, anything. Just stay.

And thankfully, Jeongguk responds without wasting another second of your time, putting you at ease once again.

“Please.”

a/n: okay yes, that was a lot but more smut will come and more angst will follow!

taglist:

@iwuzhere

#jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #thereboundgirl #nerdjungkook #smut series #bts x reader #gamerjungkook #bts smut

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oleander-nin · 1 year ago

Text

The Weight of a Letter(11)

A/N: okay, I know he seems out of the blue, but this was planned for so long. Also, sorry it's not 3000(it's 697off), but I really wanted to end it where I did. This was so fun to write. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

Taglist? If you want to be added or removed, just say so: @ssak-i @sinister-things @ancreativename @t0ta11y-n0t-cup1d @idiotreblogger @whygz @lexiechr@10yagurlchip01 @rex-ray @sunsersilversky @theavianlady @sspiderj

Part 1 - Previous - Next

Words: 2303

Content warnings: None I think? Idk, school, possessive hints, slight paranoia

Chapter 11: A Dirty Liar

I moved through the motions of the day in a quiet buzz. Staying up all night talking to Mikey was fun, but ended up being a bit of a mistake. I could barely sit through each class. I fiddle with the rose I had received this morning along with another letter. It is beautiful, yes, but I’m starting to get unnerved. Today’s letter feels… Off. I don’t know how to describe it, but it doesn’t seem like the others. The sense of admiration and love was still there, but so was a hint of obsession. Danger, even. I glance down at my bag by my feet, shifting in the chair. My letter was sitting just inside the zipper, begging to be read through again. I doubted I could. One of the lines kept sounding through my head, making its way into every thought.

I can’t wait to make you mine for good.

I look down at the flower, frowning slightly. It wasn’t too bad of a line, almost innocent on its own. But reading the letter, with the surrounding thoughts building it up to make it seem like I was falling into a trap? Call me paranoid, but I was starting to fear the letters that once brought me joy.

I suck in a deep breath when the teacher tells us to partner up, grumbling under my breath. I wish I could just stay home and hole up in Irma’s guestroom, away from crowds and prying eyes. Even now I can feel my hair stand on end from someone’s staring, but this time, I could pinpoint it.

My eyes meet a swampy brown hazel, the staring boy’s eyes narrowed behind thick half lens glasses. He glanced down at my rose and scoffs, clearly finding it in distaste. I frown, pulling the delicate flower closer to my chest. Despite my recent mixed feelings towards the letters, I still found the flowers precious. They were mine, and they were still fairly sweet. Even if this random guy disagreed.

I watch him look around at the quickly partnering students, a scowl on his face. He seemed to hate group projects too. Good. I hope he suffers. I turn away from him to see if anyone near me is also without a partner. Maybe if I get this done quickly, I wouldn’t have to worry about any homework. I hate physics.

I scan the classroom, growing agitated as I realize the glaring kid and I were the only ones left. I slump back in my chair, meeting his glare. If he wanted a partner, he would have to come to my desk. I was not getting up for him.

He stands by his desk, face set in what seemed a permanent scowl. I couldn’t help but notice his teeth, the front two being slightly bigger than normal. His black, fading, side buzzed hair was scruffy, small sprigs standing every which way. His purple satin jacket made him stand out the most, his posture too hunched for me to get a proper read on his height. I pull up a knee, staring him down. I wasn’t going to back down, not for him. I didn’t even know why.

It takes the teacher to scold us before he finally trudges over, obnoxiously tugging a desk over to meet mine. I watch his hissy fit with interest, hiding a smug smile behind my hand. I had won our little war, even if it was by accident.

“You better not be stupid.” He hisses, his voice smoother than expected. There was a slight slur to his words, whether it was from a lisp or his teeth, I wasn’t sure. I lean back in my seat, crossing my arms. I really didn’t like him. “I will not be stuck with a stupid partner.”

“You’re in luck,” I say tightly. “I happen to be pretty good at calculating a ball's trajectory.”

The boy rolls his eyes, pulling out a notebook and flipping to a clean page. My eye twitches as I watch him. Even when he wasn’t being annoying, he still got on my nerves. I pop my elbow when reaching down for my backpack, unzipping the top to search for my notebook. The letter falls to the floor and I ignore it for a moment, more focused on grabbing my supplies. My new partner’s eyes focus on the fallen note, his sneer growing.

“What’s that?”

“Something you’ll never get.” I say coldly, surprising myself at my sudden rudeness. I feel my cheeks heat in embarrassment, thankful he wasn’t able to tell. I barely knew this kid, and even if he seemed to be a prick, I shouldn't be rude back. Tony always tried to drill the golden rule into me after all.

I pick up the letter and shove it back in my bag, noting the confusion on his face. Right, he wouldn’t get the insult if he didn’t know what the letter was. I was safe, for now. I clear my throat, setting my notebook on my desk and flipping to a clear page. “Right, so uh, can you go grab the ball?”

“Are your legs broken or something? Get it yourself.” He scoffs. I clench my fists, nearly breaking my pencil in half. I take a deep breath, trying to not explode on him. I had to be civil. Punching classmates wasn’t civil.

“Right.” I say, sickly sweet. I stand up and head towards the front of the room, collecting all the necessary materials for our “experiment”. I shake my head, this could’ve been so much easier if we were just given a video to watch.

I set everything back on the desks, looking back at the board for the instructions. I reach into my backpack and pull out a small ruler, making a table for the data. I try my best not to laugh at my partner's face and the way it was scrunched up. I look back up, offering him the ruler in hopes to make peace. Once this lab was over I would avoid him like the plague, but for now, I felt the need to be civil. I can’t collect data if he’s being a jerk.

He takes the ruler and starts to make his own table, his lines being much neater than mine had been. I rest my chin in my hand, tapping the desk. We were still waiting for our teacher to hand out the balloons.

“What’s your name?” I ask, my eyes scanning the room absentmindedly.

“CK.” He says simply, not looking anymore friendly than he had moments before.

“CK? What does that stand for?”

His eye twitches. “You don’t get to know.”

“My name (Y/n).” I offer, feeling a bit peeved he never asked. I swear this kid had no manners, or he was just ignoring them on purpose to spite me. Probably the latter.

“I already know your name.” He says, still working on his data table. I look at him oddly, unsure what to say. I don’t remember ever giving it to him. A pit settles into my stomach, my hair rising on end. I try to push it down, not wanting it to grow. Most likely, he had heard the teacher call my name and picked it up from there.

I sit up when I notice our teacher nearing our desks, ignoring CK and my paranoia. We had an experiment to do after all. I take the purple balloon with a nod and a quick thank you, putting it on the desk with the rest of our supplies. I can’t help but picture his head popping like the balloon would. It makes me smile to see his head deflate behind my eyes. I tap the table for a moment before I pull up a stopwatch on google, deciding the games are done. As much fun as I was having trying not to punch CK, we really needed to start the experiment.

“Any preference on who’s dropping the items?” I ask, setting up the stopwatch. I watch with mild amusement as CK reaches over the table, taking the tools into his arms.

“As if I would trust you to do it properly. You can do the time, I’ll drop the things.” He sniffs. I roll my eyes, more amused by the minute. I may hate him, but at least his annoyingness was more pathetically funny than frustrating. Well, he was frustrating too, but I would never talk to him again either way. I can deal with this for the next hour and ten minutes. Hopefully.

I hit the timer as he drops each item, marking them down on my data sheet. The experiment was fairly easy, we just had to calculate how far we were dropping everything, and compare fall times between the different objects. It was a nice, easier lesson. Plus, all I had to do was hit the button for the stopwatch since CK insisted on doing each of the problems himself, despite me getting the answer easily on my own.

“Ready for the last one?” I ask, doodling on my notes as I wait for him to finish up triple checking his equation. As much as I had grown to despise him, I had to give him credit for how good he was at this class. He (rudely) helped correct one of my problems already, saving me from getting a worse grade.

CK looks up, his muddy eyes holding a great distaste for me. I grin. It was nice to know the feeling was very mutual. He grumbles as he stands up, holding his arm above his head as he drops the last item, a small pen. It clacks to the floor and rolls under my desk, stopping at my foot. I check the stopwatch, reading the number aloud.

“One point thirty-four seconds.” I say, jotting it down and starting my equation. CK nods and slips back into his seat, crossing his arms while scowling at me. I keep writing for a moment before looking up, feeling peeved at his attitude.

“Can I help you?” I ask, my voice syrupy with fake sweetness. I grin, bemused as his face twitches. He knows I’m pulling his leg.

“My pen.” He says. I look down, realizing I forgot to grab it. I chew on my cheek, contemplating whether to pick it up. On the one hand, it would be a nice thing to do. On the other, I was really tired of being nice to this guy. I grin cheekily at him, keeping up my sugary tone.

“You forgot the magic word~” I say. If I was lucky, I could squeeze some manners out of him yet. Or he’d pick up his own pen. Either way, it was a win for me.

CK tsks his tongue, tilting his head as he grins evilly. Confusion washes over me, trying to figure out what he was planning. His hand goes into his pocket, pulling out an open envelope, my open envelope. I look towards my bag, seething. He took my letter.

I reach across the table, trying to snatch it back, but he holds it out of my reach. I glower at him, my fists clenching by my side. The letters may be starting to grow questionable, but they were still mine. I wanted it back.

“Give it back.” I hiss, trying to not alert the teacher. Getting into a fight in front of her was not a smart move. CK’s grin widens, his eyes glinting with malice.

“Give me my pen and I’ll consider it.”

I nearly jump across the table and strangle him then and there. I slowly reach under the table, keeping my eyes locked on CK. I pat around on the ground, trying to find the pen without looking. After a couple seconds go by and my frustration builds, I glance down and quickly spot the pen to grab it. I toss the pen back over to him, holding out my hand.

“The letter.” I say, clenching my teeth. It felt wrong to have him hold something that was given to me out of love. Especially something that spilled someone's emotions so deeply. Irma reading it was one thing, this jerk-wad reading it was another.

He brings the letter back towards him, holding it loosely in his hand. He smirks and I feel the urge to set him on fire. “No.”

I feel anger build in my chest, my face heating from the pressure. It was taking everything in me not to grab it from him, even if I hurt him in the process. His eyes flicker across my face, still seeming smug. “Say the magic word, (Y/n).”

I nearly gag at my name being spilled from his mouth. It felt like a curse from him. I take a deep breath, knowing exactly what he’s playing at by parroting the same command back at me.

“Give me my letter. Please.” I say tightly, the words feeling as if they physically hurt to fall from my mouth. CK grins, pleased. He tosses the letter back towards me and I quickly hold it close, taking out the paper and skimming it to make sure it wasn’t damaged. Irma didn’t get to read it yet.

“Here’s your letter from Von Ryan. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to know how happy you are with them, considering your reaction to me taking it.”

I look at him skeptically, distrust and anger set deep in my expression. I was more mad he took my stuff than the fact he took the letter. “You know Von Ryan?”

Something flashes behind his eyes, an emotion I can’t tell, and his buck teeth shine proudly from behind his wide grin. “Of course I do! I’m Von Ryan after all. I wrote you the letters.”

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inevitably-johnlocked · 7 months ago

Note

Hiiiiii

Do you have any fics where john or sherlock are mutants/ have powers?

Hi Lovely!

OOOOOOOHHHH I love this; I have a few fics that could be qualified as "CLOSE" to mutations and superpowers, but not 100%. I have a lot more "changelings" than anything else. I've compiled together some of the ones on my MFL list as well, but I can't guarantee that they're mutants in them since I haven't read them.

If anyone has any fics that they can suggest, please do! I'm kind of into MCU fics right now so if I can have Sherlock-style in there too, that would be awesome! PLEASE let us know if you have mutant or Superhero Johnlock fics!!!

MUTATIONS or SUPERPOWERS

See also:

Magical Realism Where John is the Powerful One

Telepath / Empath AU

Hybrids and Shapeshifters

Soaring Above by Corporate_cards (G, 394 w., 1 Ch. || TRF, Light Angst, Superpowers) – "Have you ever though about having a super power...?" Part 2 of the Random Things I've Written In Class -- Johnlock series

The Frost Child by twistedthicket1 (M, 9,994 w., 2 Ch. || Frozen-ish AU || Magical Realism, Christmas, Angst, Fluff, Powerful John) – In a world where people are born with a Gift of varying levels, simple John Watson is the last person one might look at when thinking of any strong Magick capabilities. Hiding comfortably in the shadow of Sherlock's brilliant deducing abilities, John is content to keep it that way...

Conductivity by Coquillage Atlas (K,11,051 w., 8 Ch., FFNet || Fantasy and Friendship) – John Watson, alone in London with a healing power he can hardly bear. A description of his life with magic, before and after Sherlock. SEQUELS: Resistance || Reciprocity

Invisible by chappysmom (K+, 25,947 w., 11 Ch., FFNet || No Slash, semi-canon compliant) – John had had the knack for as long as he could remember. It wasn’t that he could become invisible, exactly. The laws of physics worked quite well in his vicinity, thank you very much. It was just that people tended … not to see him. SEQUELS: Still Invisible (ASiB) || Too Visible (THoB) || Invisible Once More (TRF)

Left by lifeonmars (M, 45,153 w., 9 Ch. || Magical Realism, BAMF!John, Slow Burn) – John Watson is left-handed. He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible.

Out There by DiscordantWords (T, 131,695 w., 10 Ch. || X-Files Fusion || Past Soldier John, Panic Attacks, POV Alternating Present Tense, Anxious John, Canon Adjacent, Deductions, Obsessive Sherlock,, Travelling, Sherlock’s Family, Jealous Sherlock, Mind Palace John, Awkward Flirting, Kidnapped/Abducted John, Semi-Reverse Reichenbach, Worried/Anxious Sherlock, Hospital, Slow Burn, UST, Case Fic, Government Conspiracy, Aliens, UFOs, Mutants, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Coma John, Forehead Touching, Hand Holding, Drinking/Bars, Past Jolto) – FBI Special Agent John Watson, medical doctor and army veteran, is assigned to assist eccentric genius Sherlock Holmes with paranormal investigations on the X-Files project.

How to Build a Heart out of Ashes by Teumessian (E, 144,931 w., 31 Ch. || Changeling AU || Slow Burn, Drug Use, Mentions of Child Abuse / Bullying, Mentions of Student/Teacher Relations, Uni-Age) – In an AU where a small number of the population become Changelings at a young age, at 17 John Watson believes he's destined for Normal life but then the Change takes him and he is sent to the Baker Institute. There he meets Sherlock Holmes.

MARKED FOR LATER

(I Love You) Infinitely by helloliriels (T, 20,072+ w., 14/16 Ch. || WiP || Marvel Cinematic Universe AU || Post-TRF, Post Infinity War, Not Endgame-Compliant, Super Humans, Happy Ending) – With a snap of his fingers, Thanos had caused the heartache and loss of half a planet's population. And Watson, of all people could have kissed the glove that did so. Part 2 of the Liriels Chaptered Fics series

Trenchcoats and Capes by jomochi (T, 35,275 w., 3 Ch. || Superhero AU || UST/URT, Mutually Unrequited, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Love Confessions, Secret Identity, Hero John) – He’s twirling a strand of hair around the finger of his other hand. His coat, which honestly looks more like a cape than anything, is spread out beneath him. His chest rises and falls slowly with calm breaths, the tight black material of his suit stretching to accommodate the movement. John has seen many pictures of him but not one did him any justice. The sight before John is breath-taking. It isn’t right. Evil shouldn’t look this good.

The Alchemystics by elwinglyre (E, 69,014 w., 16 Ch. || Full Metal Alchemist Omegaverse AU || Non-Traditional ABO Dynamics, Major Character Injury, Angst, Human Transmutation) – Since youth, Sherlock was forced to hide who he was from the world. That time has ended. With the world torn apart, he must embrace who and what he is: an alchemystic and an omega. Fortunately, he finds another, John Watson, who is a true compliment to himself. With Watson’s help, Sherlock strives to obtain what’s needed to right the world. But the past, present and future aren’t aligning, and what is needed to succeed comes at a high cost: for to gain, something of equal value must be lost--that is Alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange. No one knows this lesson better than Sherlock. He’s lost his father, his brother and his arm attempting to bring his mother back from the dead. What will he need to sacrifice to save the world?

The Destruction of Ice by All_I_need (E, 91,682 w., 28 Ch. || Psy - Changeling Crossover/Fusion || Changeling John, Psy Sherlock, Murder Investigation / Case Fic, Slow Burn, Touching, Forced Lack of Emotion, Silence Protocol, Sci-Fi Elements) – The year is 2081 and Sherlock Holmes never expected to encounter a threat to his Silence, the conditioning that keeps him sane and unfeeling. John Watson, on the other hand, never thought he'd find a flat in London. He certainly didn't expect to find one that comes with a Psy flatmate: brilliant, emotionless and more intriguing than John would like. When a series of brutal, random murders shakes London to its core, it is up to them to stop a vicious psychopath - preferably before Sherlock's latest experiment gets them both killed.

A Vintage Exceptionally to Your Liking by EmmyAngua (E, 95,334 w., 19 Ch. || Alternate Dimensions AU || S3 Fix It, Lies, Angst, Pining Sherlock, Superpowers, Domestics, BAMF Mary, Hiatus, First Time, Magical Realism, Slow Burn, Colliding Universes, Moral Dilemmas, Betrayal, Mary’s Past) – Sherlock and John met seven years earlier than canon and fell in love. When John dies, Sherlock is introduced to the concept of alternate dimensions and given the opportunity to visit a different universe where he can have a second chance with a new John Watson. A love story across alternate dimensions.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #superhero fics #mutation fics #my fic recs #fics to read

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eddiemunsonsmum · 2 months ago

Text

Aftermath | Chapter 10 | Eddie Munson

Eddie Munson x Female OC | E.M x Karmen Jones

Chapter Summary: Eddie has spent a lot of lonely recovery time stewing on the fact that his new 'friends' seemed to have abandoned him. He's feeling stupid for hoping that they would invite him into their group instead. So what happens when one of those friends finally comes to visit him and offers an explanation?

Story Summary: Eddie wakes up in the Upside Down after 'dying' in Dustin's arms. He wakes up again in the hospital and is reunited with his loved ones. This story covers Eddie's time in the hospital and overall physical recovery after the Upside Down.

This fic is part of the She Feels Like Home series. It sits between Boxing Day and Drop Out but can be read as a standalone.

Chapter Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort , Fluff, Mentions of being eaten alive, ASL, (American Sign Language), ASD !Eddie, Autistic Eddie, Non-verbal Eddie, Abandonment Issues, RSD, Misunderstandings, Friendships, Healing, Getting Better, Season 4 Spoilers.

Words: 6.7k

Home time.

Finally.

But not for Eddie Munson. Instead it was Steve Harrigton that was covering ugly scars with house clothes. Today, a starchy polo that had previously been hidden in the back of his closet.

Not one he ever would have chosen for himself. Instead, one that Robin had technically stolen from the Harrington household when she had technically broken in at his request.

He hadn’t had a key to give her when he’d asked her to please bring him some new clothes.God only knew where his parents had hidden the spare key… If they’d even left one out for him at all.

The Harrington house had been in the middle of renovations before everything went to Hell. He knew there was no way his parents trusted the men from the Construction Company they hired to not make a copy and let themselves in off the clock if they happened to come across it.

They were always so worried about the lower class and their nefarious motives. It was ironic really, considering one of the most nefarious people Steve knew in real life was his own Father.

His parent’s had always been of the impression that anyone less wealthy than them was waiting for a handout or their chance to rob them.

He was glad that they hadn’t caught Robin going through his things. She wasn’t exactly their favorite person already simply based on their bigoted idea that she was from a different social class. He would hate to give them reason to believe their prejudiced mindsets had some validity to them.

Steve felt like he should probably be sad that his parents hadn’t visited him in the hospital. His Mother had called after she was notified of ‘the accident’. After Owens had been to visit him and explained the situation. But that was all from them. They knew he was alive and he supposed that was what mattered.

He wondered if they would come to his funeral if he hadn’t lived through it all. Maybe they would have just called and got the answer they needed to what was a simple yes or no question to them.

‘No,he didn’t make it. I’m so sorry.’

‘No problem. Thanks for letting us know.’

As if he was a package that had been misdelivered or a grocery item that was out of stock.

He tried not to think about it. He didn’t want to be sad. They’d just saved the world after all and he had plenty of visitors during his long and frankly unnecessary stay.

He hadn’t even been going to bring attention to his wounds the day they’d brought Eddie in. Didn’t think he needed it despite Nancy and Robin insisting that the grazes on his back were pretty bad and that the bat bites might get infected if they weren’t treated properly.

He had been ready to walk out without a word. But the quiet sobbing of Dustin in the waiting room changed his mind. He would never admit to the little Butthead quite how deeply he cared about him.

He also would never admit to the kid that he didn’t think Eddie was going to make it. So he needed to quietly make sure that Dustin didn’t lose both of them in one fell swoop.

After the adrenaline finally wore off for good he had started to feel the pain of being nibbled on in earnest.

Nancy and Robin had been right in the end and his wounds did get infected. So while he was rolling around in agony, a cold sweat on his forehead; he tried his best to be grateful that they had insisted he get checked out.

It was easier to be grateful when the narcotics kicked in and he could float around in the clouds. His mind was too muddled to think about anything other than the fact he was no longer in pain.

Unfortunately that reprieve hadn’t lasted long. They had taken that away from him on day three. His body was stronger than Eddie’s and he hadn’t been attacked as badly.

It only took a few days of healing for him to be doing quite well. He could move around on his own pretty ably.

He was itching to go home by the end of the week.

The issue with that?

It would fuck up Eddie’s cover-story.

Steve needed to be a little more injured for the car accident bullshit to make sense.

The nurses were just as confused as him when Owens had announced that their doctor had ordered he stay for an extra week or two due to the nature of his injuries and how serious they were. It was obvious to everyone that he was relatively fine by that point.

Sam had held up his hand and waved the medical staff off with a simple

‘Confidential.’

Steve had been surprised that they actually listened and stopped asking questions. He figured someone had been made an example of in the past because no one had another thing to say about it. The nurses even continued taking his vitals twice a day without complaint or comment on the fact that they physically proved he was fine.

He and Robin had also theorized over his stay that maybe all the staff he interacted with actually worked for the lab and there wasn’t a single regular Hawkins Memorial Hospital staff member on their floor. Considering he, Max and Eddie were all taken to the same ward.

It wasn’t out of the question. But he was pretty sure they were all just scared of being fired.

A fear of his own that had recently come to fruition.

Steve had resigned himself to playing the part for the sake of not breaking his NDA and getting to keep the Hush-Money that the government offered him for being cooperative.

He needed it. Apparently. Because according to the one phone call he had with his Mom. His Father was cutting him off after the owner of Family Video had called his house in a rage, asking why Steve had abandoned the store on their busiest day of the week.

It didn’t matter that it was later revealed that Steve had been in an accident. He couldn’t explain to his parents why he had abandoned the store in the first place and apparently Owens hadn’t bothered to come up with a cover for that part.

He was hoping now that he was finally free, to head over to the video store and explain to Keith the version of events that he had spent his time in the hospital working on.

He had been the one to abandon the store. Alone. Robin was already gone when Steve had learnt about the murder and left his post. He had assumed it was Eddie that was murdered when he’d seen the trailer on the news and he and Eddie were totally friends…

God he hoped Robin hadn’t gotten to Keith first. He’d asked her to stay away after she’d told him that they’d both been fired. He was going to fix it for them. He really hoped she’d listened and not gone in there and tried to explain it herself, contradicting all the lies he was about to tell.

He really hoped he could at the very least convince Family Video that Robin had done nothing wrong. That he could tell a captivating story that persuaded them to hire her back. Convince them that before Steve had left, she had a family emergency that had forced her to leave first. That she had asked Steve to work the rest of the shirt alone as well as her next few in her place.That he had absolutely agreed but forgot about his promise in the wake of learning his very best friend Eddie Munson was being charged with murder.

He also very much hoped that Keith had never heard him talk shit about Eddie in the past.

Steve hated to admit that there was a high possibility. That the prejudice and bigoted mindset he had been raised with had taken a lot longer to completely shed than he’d liked to acknowledge. That even after he’d begun to move on from that mindframe there were certain people that he had put into little boxes in highschool and not taken out to reexamine when he should have.

Eddie was one of those people and there was a 65% chance that Keith knew that already. That he’d already fucked his own cover story months before he would need it by being needlessly cruel about Dustin’s new friend Town Freak, Eddie Munson.

Maybe even if Keith knew he was lying, the dude would take pity on them. Maybe if he went in there all wet eyed and floppy haired with his best vocal quiver, he would be just pathetic enough to entice the man and he would hire them both back.

But he doubted it.

Even if he did, there was no way in hell he and Robin would be allowed to work together anymore and that was pretty much the only bearable part of the job.

So Family Video was where he was headed. His confidential discharge papers with most of the information redacted were tucked neatly into his satchel as he exited his hospital room for the last time

But he had a stop to make first before he took the bus across town to plead his pitiful case to his former employer.

A doorway down the hall caught his eye. A doorway that he knew to currently belong to the room of his oldest and most cherished best friend, Eddie Munson.

As he headed towards it he was surprised to see a woman exiting. Figuring in the few seconds he had to look at her that she was a nurse before realizing she was not dressed as such.

She was wearing a black polo shirt similar to his own although hers appeared to be of necessity rather than choice. There was a business logo on the back.

She also wore what appeared to be steel-cap boots with blue jeans.

Maybe she was a maintenance worker.

She had long brunette curls pulled into a ponytail that swayed from side to side; masking the full name of the company she worked for. She walked across the hallway in front of him, heading towards the elevators. Steve stopped outside the door she’d just left. Trying to read the logo on her shirt and only making out the word ‘Construction’. He watched her walk away for a long moment before he realized he was staring and shaking himself out of it.

About time this place did some renovations.

He thought to himself as he turned towards Eddie’s room, spying his friend reclining on his side in the bed and watching as he jumped out of his skin when Steve’s knuckles wrapped on the doorframe.

“Knock knock.” He called as an afterthought.

Eddie stared at him with shocked eyes that were magnified slightly by the glasses on his face. He closed his book, one hand obscuring the cover as he looked Steve up and down in a way that seemed like he was assessing if the other man was real or not.

Dustin had told Steve recently when he’d asked after Eddie that the man wasn’t speaking right now. Steve wasn’t really sure what that meant and Dustin hadn’t been much help. Explaining in an overtechnical way that made him feel like an idiot and not want to ask questions. But what he took from it was that Eddie could speak, he just didn’t want to or as Dustin had said:

‘His mouth wants to but his brain doesn’t.’

That was a few days ago though so Steve wasn’t really sure what to expect when he appeared for the first time in front of the guy who he’d nearly, accidentally, left for dead in another dimension.

He had been straight up avoiding the visit and it was probably obvious to everyone. He hadn’t been too injured to walk around and he frequently left his room to visit Max when she was there or buy food from the cafeteria. He’d run into Wayne a couple of times. Not speaking to the other man since he wasn’t sure he even knew who he was. He’d only known who Wayne was after all because he’d seen him coming and going from Eddie’s room and Nancy had mentioned that she saw Eddie’s Uncle staying with him.

But despite being able to move around he hadn’t yet visited his very best, oldest and most cherished friend, Eddie…

Because well…

Were they friends?

Steve remembered with shame the way he had referred to the other man as ‘Eddie the Freak’ when on the phone with Dustin the day Chrissy died.

He looked back on the way he had acted at Family Video on that faithful Saturday morning with regret in his stomach at the thought that he actually voiced the idea that they call the cops. That he could have thought for even a second that Eddie was guilty.

He had pre-judged the other man in a way that he was honest to God embarrassed about after spending a couple of days with him. Even in the mess of being accused of a murder he didn’t commit and having the whole town on a man-hunt for him, Eddie had barely stopped smiling.

Whether it was a brave face for the kids or his own personal brand of coping with the horrors. Eddie Munson had laughed and joked his way through his ordeal.

It was refreshing, honestly. To not be constantly surrounded by Negative Nanc- uh.. People.. That always assumed the worst was about to happen.

Steve surmised that the mask Eddie wore probably was a brave face for the children considering how he noticed Eddie’s facade slipping more and more when he was alone with the other adults as opposed to in front of the younger tribe.

Either way, it was admirable. How he had gone out of his way to make sure the kids didn’t suffer more than they were already going to.

Eddie had laughed like a maniac and headbanged to the radio as Steve tore through the trailer park in their stolen vehicle. He had played with Dustin like they were kids while they were making their weapons. But when they had been alone in the boat and then later in the Upside Down, he had seen the terrified glint in the other man’s eyes. He had seen the jovial shield fall and the real Eddie come out in short bursts of anger and exaggerated, exasperated sighs.

He wasn’t laughing anymore now though. According to Dustin, he had let the mask fall completely.

Steve knew even when it was in place that the man was scared but he had put that aside for Dustin and the others.

Him, even.

Eddie had jumped into the fucking lake and swam into another Goddamn dimension to chase after Steve who he’d barely known and to be honest, only known at his worst before they were thrust together during that situation.

He wouldn’t have dove into the lake after Eddie. Hell, he wouldn’t have even lifted a finger to help find the dude if he wasn’t the only one that could drive.

If Nancy or Jonathan had been there to take the lead, he probably would have just stayed at work and gone home after until the kids could prove to him that the things that had happened were Upside Down related.

Eddie was a good dude with a heart of gold. If their conversation in the woods had been any indication of Eddie’s feelings towards him, the other man had realized in kind that perhaps he had misjudged Steve as well.

Eddie had said he wouldn’t have jumped into the lake to save his ass. But he did. Even if at the time it had just been because he knew the others, Dustin included, would be distraught to lose Steve... He still did it. Which was more than Steve could say he would have done for Eddie.

So, they were friends now.

Steve assured himself as Eddie pulled his pillows closer to himself to hide the corner of the novel he had sheepishly pushed under them and nodded for Steve to enter the room.

“Hey man.” He greeted, as casually as he was able while he made his way inside. “Who was that?” He asked after the woman that had just left, to try and break the ice. He jutted his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the door and found himself unsurprised when Eddie didn’t answer.

Steve nodded to himself, slipping into the visitor chair that was usually occupied by Wayne. It sat him lower than Eddie’s bed. He hoped that worked for him. That knowing Eddie was able to physically look down upon him would help dispel any unease or frustration the other man had about Steve’s absence since ‘the accident’. He hoped that he appeared less intimidating from down there. He looked up at the other man with an expression that he hoped was friendly and maybe a little pathetic to boot.

He may not have a good grasp on how someone like Eddie was raised compared to himself but if he only knew one thing about the people he used to consider to be in a different social class to himself, it was that they liked it when he looked pathetic.

Eddie did look down at him but it was with wary eyes and a sense of sadness instead of the sharp glare he had been expecting. The brunette slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. The awkward angle of the visitor chair made it far too hard to keep lying on his side if he was going to have a ‘conversation’.

Steve watched quietly as the other man moved. Eyes roaming over his face as his muscles strained to right himself shakily.

He was paler than Steve remembered. Although he hadn’t really spent too much time studying Eddie’s face during the events of late March. He seemed noticeably pale like Steve would clock it even if he had never met him before.

The dark circles around his eyes were obvious even behind the glasses and the raw scars visible on his cheeks and neck gave Steve a lot of answers to questions he didn’t need to ask.

Eddie definitely still needed to be here and he felt guilty for bitching about lying around and being brought 3 meals a day for the sake of the other man’s recovery. When one look at him told him that it had been hell.

He was still bruised in some places while Steve’s own bruising had long since healed. Although now that he was really looking, he wondered how many of those bruises were new. Brought about by rough care on fresh, tender skin.

He couldn’t see much of Eddie’s chest. His body was covered by the papery sort of hospital gown that he hadn’t been wearing since his first week.

He couldn’t tell if Eddie was too sick and sore to wear his normal clothes or if he wasn’t allowed to. Either way the hospital had more comfortable options than the sort of thin material that adorned Eddie’s body.

Steve had been complaining about the thick fabric gowns that didn’t have the back cut out.

Just one more thing for him to feel guilty about.

Eddie sat cross legged on the stiff mattress. Looking down at Steve and shifting under his gaze. The grimace-like smile on his face hadn’t shifted since he sat down made Eddie question the motives of ‘The King’s’ sudden appearance.

“So uh…” Steve began. Clearing his throat with a fist by his lips before he folded his hands in his lap. “Dustin said you don’t… Feel like talking right now?” He said as conversationally as he could manage. Pausing in the middle of his sentence to choose his words carefully and yet still managing to add an inflection on the end as if he was asking a question and expecting Eddie to answer.

Eddie shrugged softly, clenching his jaw at the action as his shoulder twinged in protest. He looked away from Steve, not able to take the strained eye contact any longer and instead focusing on a discolored spot on the arm of the chair.

“How’ve you been?” Steve asked suddenly despite the gnawing feeling in his gut telling him to leave it alone and change the subject. Despite knowing the other man wouldn’t answer even if he could.

He had every right to be angry. To tell Steve to shove it and never speak to any of them again.

Eddie wasn’t able to hide the roll of his eyes at the question. An indignant huff left his lips as he shook his head slightly in astonishment.

It had been weeks and he’d not heard from any of them.

Wayne had told Eddie when he first awoke that the person driving the car didn’t need any surgery and would be out of the hospital within a few days. So Eddie hadn’t found it that hard to justify the fact that Steve was probably out in the world trying to get his life back on track after everything that happened.

Finding out from Dustin that Steve had been forced to stay for longer to help their cover stories… It had been a low blow.

Not only had he only been a few rooms away the entire time Eddie had been suffering. But apparently Robin, Nancy and the rest of the younger crew had been visiting him the entire time to stave off his boredom.

Other than Dustin, not one of them had stopped in to visit Eddie.

The Kid had been hesitant to let that information slip. Obviously aware that it would hurt Eddie’s feelings.

He had brushed it off at the time. Acting like it didn’t hurt. But Eddie had been through something spectacularly life altering and he was lucky enough to have people that related to it. So when suddenly the only other people in the entire world that understood his plight weren't interested in being his friend, it kind of sucked.

A lot.

Like, a lot more than he could have ever anticipated.

It wasn’t like he could talk about the extra hurt with anyone either.

Literally or figuratively.

How exactly would that sound without the extra context of monsters, other dimensions and trauma bonding?

Hello Family, I know I didn’t contact either of you for the entire time I was on the run and I kind of let you think I was dead or at the very least, a cheater and a murderer to boot… BUT I made a bunch of new friends!! We had so much fun while you guys were suffering because you chose to love me but now I’m sad because even though you both spend every waking minute of your free time here with me… My new friends I barely know won’t visit me. :(

Wayne might actually think it was a funny turn of events. Especially if he worded it like that. But he could only imagine the look of betrayal on Karmen's face...

No, he’d rather be back with the bats.

Anyway, he supposed he should have expected this. None of the gang had really been interested in being his friend prior to the ordeal.

Robin was nice. They were in Band together and she had always been kind, even chosen to be his partner on a project in the past. But she had her own friends and hadn’t seemed interested in talking to him outside of that.

He understood.

He didn’t know what he had been thinking… Traipsing around in another world with these people and feeling for the first time in a long while that perhaps he was a part of something again. That beyond Wayne, Joey and Karmen, maybe there were good people out there that cared for him and would want to be his friends.

Real friends. His age. The kind of friends that he hung out with outside of DnD and on weekends. Friends that he could talk to about anything, not just the otherworldly horrors they had all experienced together.

He had a hunch that being the Town Pryer probably wouldn’t be so bad if he had some peers on his side to bat for him.

Bat…

He sighed internally. Dustin was the only one out of all of them that would always be willing to bat for him.

To go to bat-tle on his behalf.

I should have laughed at the kid’s joke.

Steve sat in silence as Eddie frowned at his own memories. Unsure if he had intentionally not answered the question or if he had been trying to decide how to respond and gotten lost somewhere in the past.

It was a bit of both but Steve would never know that as he opened his mouth to speak again and Eddie chose that moment to snap out of it. Huffing dramatically and crossing his arms over his chest in a juvenile way he was honestly embarrassed about but couldn’t help when he was feeling things like this.

He was frustrated. Exasperated. Resentful. But above all, hurt. Not necessarily by Steve specifically but his own silly brain for letting him believe for a hot second that he would just be welcomed into the group with open arms because they shared a spooky experience.

He may as well have let himself believe he was best friends with the gate attendant of the Haunted House carnival ride.

They had about as much in common as him and Steve.

“Sick scars Man.” Steve offered suddenly, pulling Eddie from his thoughts again and making him wonder exactly how long he had been silent for. “Very…” Steve paused, thinking. “Metal.” He said, remembering back to how Eddie had complimented him in The Upside Down.

Eddie looked to him tiredly, nodding once as an acknowledgement and a thank you before looking away again. He did appreciate the compliment. Also the fact that Steve had gone out of his way to use language that Eddie vibed with.

There’s no way Harrington would organically use ‘metal’ as an adjective.

He was trying.

“Chicks dig scars.” Steve continued, pushing it too far and making Eddie feel like he was being pandered to instead of understood. His eyes hit the ceiling once more and any sense of confidence Steve had begun to feel at the way Eddie reacted to his correct use of ‘metal’ faded away as he deflated in his seat. “I mean… I don’t know what I mean.” He admitted softly. Throwing his hands up as Eddie’s shoulders seemed to soften slightly at the confession. “I guess, I mean, I don’t know, don’t be like, worried about them or anything. I’ve never seen a woman balk at scars you know? If anything it’ll only help your game.” He joked as Eddie furrowed his brows.

Steve for sure wasn’t listening when they had been walking in the forest and he had mentioned wanting to get back to his girl after everything.

To be fair, he had worded it ambiguously. Partially because he wasn’t really saying it to have a conversation, it was just something he needed to voice aloud. But also partially due to the reaction of his actual friends in the Hellfire Club when he tried to tell them about her. It had scarred him and he didn’t feel like arguing with Harrington in the middle of the Upside Down about the fact that his girlfriend did exist.

He supposed he could have shown him her picture. But he doubted the one in his wallet would have been salvageable after diving into the lake. Not that he ever wanted anyone else to see Karmen in that light anyway. That polaroid was just for him. Although… He could have covered the indecent bits with his thumb.

“Especially when you become a rockstar.” Steve added, leaning forward as if he was divulging a secret. “If Dustin’s retelling of events is accurate, I hear you’re pretty damn good with a guitar.”

Eddie didn’t take the bait. He wanted to. So badly. It helped that he couldn’t verbally reply. Out there somewhere, in an alternate reality was a verbal Eddie that was rubbing it in Steve Harrington’s face that he was quite possibly, the best guitar player in all of Indiana.

But not today. Not this Eddie. This Eddie was silent and staring at his own feet under the covers in an effort to seem uncaring. Pretend like he wasn’t hurt and didn’t need or want an explanation from Steve on why he wasn't good enough to be a part of their little gang.

Steve’s shoulder slumped when Eddie didn’t reply. He didn’t really know what else to say to try and entice the other man into engaging with him.

Maybe he should just tell the truth? He considered as he studied Eddie’s sunken features. The man had been through the wringer. Steve and his friends may have saved Eddie’s life but what did that really matter if they’d only brought him back to silently suffer in a world he’d never see the same way again.

What was the point in dragging him out of The Upside Down if he was going to spend the rest of his life alone or at least lonely and full of traumas he could never talk about.

It would have been kinder to let him bleed out.

“Listen…” Steve began, not really sure how to continue while Eddie seemed to be physically closing himself off from conversation.

His arms were wrapped around himself and he was refusing to make eye contact. The icy glare Steve had expected when he first entered the room had arrived but it was directed at the mattress, not him.

That was a start.

“I um… I should have visited sooner.” Steve admitted softly, completely catching Eddie off guard. “I wanted to!” He continued eagerly, encouraged by the way Eddie’s face changed so suddenly from anger to curiosity. He still wasn’t looking but Steve was honestly glad for it because what he was about to say was going to feel humiliating even without eye contact. “It’s just that um…” He trailed off. A long sigh leaving his lips as Eddie all but twitched his ears expectantly like a dog that thought he’d heard his favorite word.

He stared at his feet, determined not to give Steve the satisfaction of having his attention as he waited with baited breath to hear the excuse he could practically feel sitting between them like a giant elephant with a neon sign that demanded him to look at it.

“It’s just that…” Steve started again, trailing off once more and causing Eddie’s inner monologue to become one long, frustrated screech. His eye twitching slightly as he ripped his vision from his own feet and finally looked at Steve in a way that screamed:

SPIT IT OUT!!

The other man took the hint, unnerved by the sharpness of Eddie’s gaze as he shrunk under it. His hands wringing together in his lap as he spoke.

“It’s just that I didn’t know if you– wanted to be my friend?” He confessed sheepishly, the end of his question a cluttered mumble of words that blended into one another but Eddie got the gist. His mouth falling open brazenly in surprise.

Oh…

He thought simply. Staring at the other man as his expression became unreadable and he sat with the new information for a moment.

He hadn’t considered that.

That maybe Steve “The King” Harrington would be just as confused about where they stood after their escapades in The Upside Down.

That Eddie was… right?

That High School popularity and pecking order didn’t actually extend to the real world and it took leaving High School to fully realize that.

That this wasn’t High School.

That social class didn’t dictate who people were allowed to associate with…

That Steve was not better than him.

That maybe, Eddie wanting to be friends with Steve didn’t mean that by default Steve was the one that got to decide if they were friends or not.

That maybe, the ball had been in Eddie’s court all along.

Shit…

Steve swallowed nervously, his hands graduating from wringing together to rubbing the fabric of his polo between his thumbs and fingers as he looked away from Eddie with pursed lips and wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

Eddie still wasn’t saying anything.

This was a mistake.

He’d misjudged the situation. Of course Eddie hadn’t been wondering the entire time why Steve hadn’t shown his face. Of course he wasn’t angry that Steve hadn’t been around and was instead annoyed that he’d shown up at all and ruined his peace.

Of course Eddie had a bunch of friends already and didn’t need Steve encroaching on that just because they’d spent a few days together in a traumatic situation.

His friendship with Robin had skewed his sense of reality and how these things normally work. He was lucky she had chosen to stick around with him after Scoops and didn’t go back to her regular life.

People didn’t really just become super close friends with someone out of nothing despite not having much in common.

The kids were already friends before their lives were turned upside down. He and Nancy had been dating. He already knew and mostly got along with the kids from that. Jonathan already knew the kids just by being Will’s brother but then he started dating Nancy and basically took his place… But they were all running in the same circles and had enough in common with at least one other person in the group to keep them all spending time together.

Robin was the exception and while he was glad every day that she was still his friend, it wasn’t usual.

Hell he didn’t really have any friends besides Robin anymore did he? If friends could be made that easily one would think he would have more of them.

He had thought Eddie hated him up until he’d called him a ‘good dude’ in the forest.

He wasn’t sure why he’d thought being perceived as a good dude was the same thing as wanting to… What? Hang out on the weekends? Talk shit about life, love and bro things he couldn’t force out of his mouth in front of the girls or the kids?

“Sorry.” Steve said suddenly. Staring at the ground. His hands clasped together tightly in between his knees.

Eddie looked up at that. Staring for a few seconds as he tried to work out what he was sorry for. He squinted in confusion as he watched Steve sit up straight and place his hands on his knees like he was about to push himself up.

No!

Eddie exclaimed internally. Realizing in that moment how it must have looked when he just went silent and spent God only knows how long in his head instead of answering the question.

Stop! Don’t go!

He tried to convey, leaning towards the edge of the bed and reaching as far towards Steve as his body would allow. Gesturing with a flat hand for him to stop and holding the other man in place without actually touching him.

Once he was sure Steve wasn’t going to move, the other man staring up at him all doe eyed with creases in his brow; Eddie took his hand away. He reached for the book on his nightstand, flipping it open and sliding glossy pages roughly through his fingers as he looked for what he wanted.

He found it, sighing in relief and holding out the open book out for Steve to take.

Eddie had decided what he was going to do with the ball and he was handing it to Steve to put in the laundry basket thingy because he knew he would never make the shot. Besides, they worked better as a team.

Steve took the book hesitantly, confused by what it even was as he pulled it into his lap and studied the pictures on the page.

He looked back up at Eddie, ready to ask what he was looking at before realizing he was making a gesture with his hands. His index fingers hooked together before he let go and rehooked them, giving each hand a turn on top.

Steve’s brows raised in understanding as he looked back down at the page on his knees. Unconsciously pointing to the picture that matched the sign Eddie had made.

“Friend.” Steve read. The corners of his lips beginning to quirk. “Looks like your fingers are giving each other a hug.” He smiled, reading the description and looking back up to Eddie who dropped his hands to his lap, shoulders losing tension at the smile on Steve’s face. He nodded simply, smiling back but unsure where to go from there.

Steve had thrown the ball through the basket but Eddie didn’t really know how to play basketball. He was much better at words and metaphors.

“So, will you be my friend?” Steve asked earnestly, needing the confirmation that he was understanding and accidentally sounding a lot more like a five year old than he had intended as Eddie cocked his head at the question.

It took a second for his brain to catch up to his ears but when it did, the absurdity of the situation hit him all at once and he found himself laughing aloud.

A good, hearty laugh that startled even himself as he slapped a hand over his mouth in response. He stared wide eyed at Steve who was equally wide eyed and mouthed. Eddie had let forth a quick bark of laughter here and there but he hadn’t laughed like that since before.

Actually, since they were tearing through the Trailer Park in Marueen’s house.

It felt good to laugh. But was entirely inappropriate for the situation at hand.

“Did you just laugh at me?” Steve asked in disbelief as Eddie shook his head vehemently, ignoring the searing pain in his neck from the repeated motion. “You did!” Steve argued, his tone lighthearted as he shook his head in mock exasperation. The giant grin on his face giving away that he wasn’t actually mad. “I ask you to be my friend and you laugh at me?” He asked incredulously, placing Eddie’s book back on the nightstand and leaning back in his chair. “Honestly.” He huffed for dramatic flair.

A silence fell between them and Steve continued to shake his head playfully. A sniff from Eddie making his head snap up in horror, thinking he had upset him. Before realizing the bastard wasn’t crying.

He was still laughing.

His eyes were closed, hand clamped over his mouth so tight his fingers were digging into his injured cheek. His shoulders shook as he tried hard to stifle it. Opening his teary eyes and locking them with Steve’s deadpan expression tipped him over the edge as he gave up on being quiet.

He let his hand fall away as another hearty laugh left his lips at the ridiculousness of it all. Doubling over as the wounds on his chest stung and his belly burned from not being able to take a proper breath.

Of all the things he’d expected to happen to him in ‘86, he would have confidently put ‘Steve Harrington asking him verbatim to be his friend’ below witnessing a murder, being wanted for said murder, discovering monsters exist and finally, almost being eaten alive by said monsters.

Maybe Steve wanting to be his friend was a little more believable than him finding a girlfriend that loved and cared for him but that happened in ‘85 so really, it didn’t count.

“Do you want to be my friend or not you Bastard?” Steve asked through a chuckle. Eddie’s laughter was the only infectious thing in this place that could make him smile.

Eddie nodded definitively. His own grin that stretched his cheek scars a little too tightly played on his lips as he looked over at Steve and nodded once more to be extra certain he had seen.

Yeah Harrington, I really do.

“Great.” Steve responded simply, happy to finally have one of his long standing anxieties melt away with a positive outcome. “Henderson is going to have a field day with this.” ~~ More Notes: I just want to point out that while I do mention a couple of times later in the series that Eddie doesn’t have any friends or he/Karmen actually says he doesn’t have any friends, that it has never been true. It’s not about whether he physically has friends or not but his perception that he doesn’t. He basically has strong imposter syndrome and struggles to feel like one of the gang despite them ensuring him that he is. He doesn’t reach out to them when he should and they kind of take it as him distancing himself on purpose when in reality he’s got that RSD bad and I hope I conveyed well here that Steve does too. Both during this story and in the future they’re both as scared of being rejected as each other but Steve has other friends he believes love him whereas Eddie puts all of the gang (bar Dustin) in the same box and doesn’t trust any of them not to hurt him, especially when he’s at his worst mentally and struggling to even trust that Wayne loves him.

Part 11

Read the rest of the series here :)

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Tag List: @3ddi3-daydreamer @micheledawn1975 @munson-blurbs @wheels-of-despair @browneyes528 @stevemunsons

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iaus · 5 months ago

Text

so. the nature of epilogue made it really hard to hammer home the fact that. while porter did care about jace he was pulling strings. he was lining jace up to be his perfect little pet sorcerer.

and part of it i think is that i had to cut porter's reaction/discovery of jace's spell thiefing (which is a homebrew boss mechanic i made specifically for jace... and will be borrowing)

eli. if you read this i'm doing bad things to your new adopted wyrmling.

also i go over some mechanical stuff that... justifies jace to me. if you don't wanna read that skip to the giant ANYWAY.

and also. this post. is a doozy and i cannot tell how coherent it is tbh. so uh. if you read the whole thing. i love you.

first thing's first. this "stealing" that jace does was literally me saying fuck rules as written i HATE rules as written i want jace to have cool powers that porter would have IMMEDIATELY been interested in and wanted under his control.

the long and short i have jace as a level 20 divine sorcerer with a unique action that i have crafted. just for him. because if he's not porter's specialest sorcerer he's mine.

Spell Thief 3/Long Rest

You harness the source of your magic and use it to rip a spell from the Weave itself. This is considered extremely dangerous to you and those around you. You do not require components for the spell you steal, unless using this to resurrect a dead creature. The spell you steal does not have to be from your class list but 1) cannot be a spell you currently know 2) cannot be a spell higher than your casting level. (For example, a 5th level caster cannot use this to manifest the Wish spell.) With DM’s discretion, you can use this to steal higher level spells, but this may incur grievous consequences. The first time you use this feature priming the spell is a DC [10+Spell Level] spell check. Upon each success or failure, the DC raises by 5+Spell Level. To use this feature, roll a primer check [1d20 +Spell Casting Modifier +Proficiency] to see if you can manifest the spell. Whether the spell is successfully stolen or not, roll a CON saving throw at the end of your turn to determine the cost of your spell. Use the table provided below to determine the price.

i won't put the table in but the consequences vary from everyone around you has to roll a dex saving throw or take take [Spell Level Summoned] d20 + [Spell Level Summoned] force damage (the sorcerer always fails this save) to you can never cast the spell you stole again to you permanently lose spell slots to there are actually no physical draw backs (20+ save).

so as you can see this is a pretty fucking powerful ability. i'm going to be using it for a boss fight later in my campaign.

but anyway. giving jace this ability automatically makes him interesting to porter. it gives porter a reason to actually pursue jace (besides finding him attractive because i find porter being desperately attracted to jace so funny all the time, sorry man).

ANYWAY.

the (multiple) cut scene(s) i have from chapter 11 is one that gives a lot more detail to porter first bringing up that he knows about what happened to jace in college. but. due to how epilogue is written and presented it was JANKY. like it did not mesh well at all there was no reason for jace to think about what happened in college even IF it was a flashback with porter. the other thought was to have jace pass out after using his spell thief ability and to have a dream about rage!porter we saw in the finale.

this also felt janky and i didn't want to do any more dream scenes after chapter 6.

but this leads to these two cut instances of porter (in their first year of hooking up, because. though they don't really gel imo my first fic does lead into/happen in the same universe). i'm gonna put both of them here to kinda see what i was working with and to show why this ultimately got cut.

version 1 (scene that got cut quickly because the tone didn't match):

Jace had hummed, thought to say something snippy like speak for yourself, but stayed quiet and let himself relax in Porter’s hands. He wasn’t sure how long they had sat like that before Porter ruined it by saying, “Wanted to ask you something.” The memory of the incident—as Jace had taken to calling it during his later years at Aguefort—was fuzzy at best. The campus police reports filed were much more detailed. He had told Porter as much at the time, mood souring as he pulled back. “If you’re that fucking curious just pull up the paperwork. It’s easy enough to find. Especially since you’re a fucking adventurer.” “Hold on—we don’t have to talk about it.” Porter had sounded remorseful. As if he actually regretted upsetting Jace. He still pulled back. The blue and white snowflakes illuminated a dark look on Porter’s face. “Listen—” “I need to go home.” “Let me drive you.”

and version 2 (which almost made it into the final draft):

This—whatever volatile, greedy thing inside him made it possible to do this—it seemed no one could take it from him. Porter had asked him about it once that first year they knew each other—had tried to play sweet at the Moonar Yulenear party and told Jace he had wanted his help on a faculty adventuring quest over the break. You were flagged when I tried to add you to the roster, Porter had said with a frown, said you were… what was the list called. Jace had left the party—drove home tipsy and ignored Porter’s calls and messages for the next three days. He’d been intent on ignoring Porter the entire break until he showed up at Jace’s townhouse with a coffee and breakfast sandwiches. Didn’t think you were gonna be rid of me for three weeks, did you? He’d been charmed. And Porter didn’t ask about the list again.

i am kind of disappointed that this ultimately was decided to be not.... jace enough to make it into the final draft but. what i'm about to say is going to reveal WHY it could not make it into the final draft:

porter, to me, is a little too... overt. almost creepy in theses scenes (which i was angling for). but for the context of epilogue where jace is romanticizing and pining for this idealized porter he has in his head... it didn't work.

this is porter angling to get something from jace. he's fishing for information about what jace did in college and whether jace felt remorse over it or not, he shuts it down and porter then has a reaction to it. in version 1 even jace manages to notice a "dark look" and this is in their first year of being a situationship!

this is a little peek into what epilogue porter actually was. it's really hard to get a read on him in epilogue since he is a memory/ghost for the entire story and we are viewing him in this hopeless, searching for meaning jace who cannot see himself without this man who has abused, used, and killed him. he is coping by only remembering the good things about porter-- he is seeing porter as a man who loved him so much he had to kill him, who wanted jace so much that he was doomed to never leave.

it's what he's always wanted-- no one has ever wanted him like this, chased him like this. but the problem is we can't see porter's thoughts in this. as author of this horrid little universe i know the approximate truth that these two unreliable men hold for each other and i can say that i do think porter loves jace. he sees it as love, but there's a lot of dark shit. a lot of isolating, patronizing, possessive unhealthy ownership happening that makes it, imo, inevitable for jace to break down the way he does.

he doesn't want the reader to see that in epilogue though.

he wants to frame this as a i need to get back the only person in my life who loves and gives a shit about me.

but in his need to do this, he glosses over really dark shit about porter and their relationship.

to continue that version 1 scene a little:

Porter rubbed the curve of his hip and smiled indulgently. “C’mon, Jace. I’m being a considerate coworker.” That had made it worse, somehow. “Sober me up. You do it all the time.” “Tapped out—some of the seniors got rowdy last period.” Jace rolled his eyes. “Fine. Take me home. One condition.” Porter hummed, still rubbing circles along Jace’s hip. “No. Asking me about.” He waved his hands vaguely. Porter had agreed, then stood and tucked Jace under his arm. Told everyone they passed: Stardiamond’s cut off. Just looking out for him. “You,” Jace had announced as Porter fiddled with the climate control. “Did that on purpose.” Porter grinned at him. “It’s winter break. Everyone will forget about it.”

[...]

“It was an accident,” Jace finally said, head feeling unfortunately clearer. He recognized the streets. They weren’t going downtown; they were still in Tillering—winding the streets to Porter’s house. “It was… like a wild magic surge.” Porter had stayed quiet, keeping his eyes on the road. Snow was finally beginning to fall (what a strange detail to remember so clearly). Despite the empty roads, Porter signaled his turn and as he was slowly easing onto his street he finally spoke: “Didn’t think you were that kind of sorcerer.” “I’m not.”

i think this is a perfect example of the kind of read flags jace was ignoring and the kind of red flags he wouldn't want in his narrative. (there's a reason this scene is cut.)

porter does a few notable things here, right:

ignores jace's boundaries- jace puts distance between them. porter ignores it and grabs him. intimately. and continues the contact.

porter tells everyone he's taking jace home. something jace doesn't want (especially since this would be like 5 months into them fooling around.)

he then, instead of taking jace to his townhome, takes jace to his own house. when he knew jace didn't want to go there.

like. jace doesn't react to these- he sees them as flattering in a way. but it's bad. porter starts this shit early and it doesn't stop. jace just doesn't tell us about it in epilogue because he doesn't deem it good enough for his narrative of the man who wanted him so bad he was willing to sacrifice him and bringing him back all wrong.

also... in chapter 6 jace does give the tiniest nod to porter and this whole college situation but it never comes up again because jace doesn't think it's important outside of his dream:

How strange to think that Porter had known about that in this moment. Had that been what made Porter pick him?

he knows porter knew about his spell thief ability. we just don't get to understand it until much later.

THIS LITERALLY WENT NOWHERE I'M SORRY. but let me leave you with a cut bit that almost made it into the final draft and that i now regret cutting, but hope you can see why i felt it necessary to cut:

He wonders. Would Porter have been excited at the prospect of Jace’s talents if he had told him that night? Would he have asked in hushed tones if Jace could still do that. Could he still steal magic—rip spells that weren’t his out of the weave itself? Would Jace have seen earlier the way Porter might have wanted to use him? Porter had never been shy about saying how he loved Jace’s magic—loved watching him use it, loved how powerful he knew Jace would be. I’ll make you more than you are, Porter had whispered in his ear one night as he pressed Jace into the mattress. Imagine it, pet. Jace stares at the spot of blood on his carpet—aware of the ache in his bones, the blood under his fingernails and wonders, faintly: Did Porter ever want him? Was it always his magic? Did it matter? He thinks. Porter had felt so inevitable. Does it matter? He gets up. There’s one way to find out.

#.txt #.writing #uhhhhhh #i don't think this makes sense #and it's not really what i meant to write but.#enjoy? if you read it?#epilogue tag #calling this the porter is a creep but jace doesn't want YOU to think that the meta #i'm half joking

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zorosnavigator · 1 year ago

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So here's the promised part 2 of the Zonami fics rec!!

Part 1 can be found here

(i havent got the time to read or do much on this blog and post the rec with all college stuff last week and the beginning of class, sorry !!)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10264637/1/The-Bounty

Already recommended it in the 1st rec (author dreamsinword ) but i still put it again here because i'm in love with her writing, and frankly the experience not only made me smile like in the manga, (Zoro and Nami dynamics, (besides the obvious romantic tones) and the rest of the crew are on point! ) but it nails the characterization of everyone, and with OCs that you feel could belong in Oda's world!!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37865146

(warnings: if ABO genre is not to your liking then dont read this one!)

So i only went through 1 chapter,( it has 11 chapters up) but so far (which is, not very far, but bear with me 😅) it doesnt seem to fall into the cliche of the'strong omega who doesnt like alpha but in the end falls under the alpha's charm anyway because uuh uh, sexy and smells goood!!!!- a trope that i personally hate because of consent issues... (no flames if you love it though 🙃)

it describes the strawhats crew with a dialogue that seems pretty thoughful (of what the scenario want to do and tell us) and not just in a way it only copies the anime (luffy screamed: i'm hungry!! Nami said: Baka!/ Robin was reading in a chair and Franky was building something that i found often in fic). (also i love any Abo writers who dont focus totally on smut, smells, dominance, and physical side of the genre and rather works on the system, the world and how the implications of the second sex impact the psychology and story as a whole! ) that said, the story seems promising!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48206047

@cutieininferno on tumblr!!!!

fic where you feels the very obvious attraction between them (but without the too much cringy emotionally stuff like 'he had nice abs, sexy and she was love with him! so strong!) but it still make room for the plot and you want to know what happens next!! (also bonus point for including the witch nickname in the actual plot, love it!! ) all in all, go read it what can i say more beside im sad there isnt more kudos???!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22678642

Good plot. Nami centric (and her origins), friends - to lovers, i enjoyed that one too!

One shots, short fics

https://www.fanfiction.net/u/776756/Rasetsu

Sweets little drabbles,

angstier than the previous one (and can be read as friendship)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2430733/1/Because

oh boy this one is a little messy but it hurts in the best way (also mention of implicit sex) love the 'mature' take on them!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6358367/1/Small-Steps

more friendship, and analysis of Nami from Zoro pov

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6375303/1/Moments-Like-These

how to write perfect Zonami in 642 words. No comments.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49450201

ANgst angst angst, implied sex, sort of...friends with benefit, (still happy ending) again, from Zoro pov!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336653

They made out in the storage room. this is uditory torture for the rest of the crew. I laughed during this one!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8330107

again, a make out, a drunken kiss and a stupid competition. Love it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128823

Drabbles so sweet i have to brush my teeth.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336968

One shot abt Zoro first time - do you know how much i like this headcanon???? no? now you know. Virgin Zoro with accidental rizz is awesome!! (Luffy is always this element in the fic who made me crack up!!!)

#zonami #zoro x nami #nami x zoro #zonas #zona #opla #fic rec #one piece #zoroxnami #this is for my discord girlies!!!!#awesome people procuring me a lot of joy!!!!

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abhainnwhump · 1 year ago

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I'll Make You Mine Masterlist

Read on Wattpad and AO3

NIGHTMARE is a sadistic bastard, that's just a fact. His goal is to corrupt Dream's soul and prevent the Doodlesphere from feeling positive emotions ever again. He has a new plan to do it. His brother is smart enough to know his games, but one of his friends isn't.

INK doesn't know what to think of the letter on his nightstand. It only added onto the strange missing things and nightmares he's been having. Was Nightmare asking him on a date? Pfft, that was ridiculous, there was no way- wait. When did he get so pretty? When did Nightmare get so perfect?

DREAM has the hope of the entire multiverse in his hands. With their best friend and Protector of the Doodlesphere missing, they have to do both Ink's job and their own, along with making sure no one else goes missing. He's stressed and exhausted, but he can't rest now. Come on Dream, stay . . . awake . . .

Content warnings:

- Abusive Inkmare

- Gore

- Graphic body horror

- Medical experimentation without anesthesia; we die like half the characters in this story.

- Physical and psychological torture

- Traumatic events

- HEAVY brainwashing/conditioning

- Stockholm Syndrome/Lima Syndrome

- Dehumanization/objectification

- Major character deaths

- Specific warnings I will put on the chapters that need them.

Chapters:

1. Sadistic Experiment: Nightmare

2. High on Sweetness: Ink

3. The Puppeteer's Warning: Nightmare

4. Nightmares Don't Mean Anything: Ink

5. Last Minute Preparations: Nightmare

6. Let's Get This Over With: Ink

7. Should've Could've Would've: Dream

8. Lure into the Darkness: Nightmare

9. True Colors . . . Or Lack Of: Ink

10. Every Action has Consequence: Dream

11. Perfect Backup: Nightmare

12. Make Me Your Masterpiece: Ink

13. Killer's Twisted Surprise: Dream

14. Behavior Modification: Nightmare

15. Toys Don't Talk: Ink

16. Candy Corruption: Dream

17. The Battle for Birdtale: Nightmare

18. Guardian of Nothing: Ribbon

19. Rainbows Over Shadows: Dream

20. Stitch by Stitch: Nightmare

21. Welcome to the Show: Ribbon

22. Mind Sickness: Dream

23. No More Denial: Nightmare

24. A Night to Remember: Ribbon

25. The Final Star Sans Standing: Dream

26. Backstabbing Crash: Nightmare

27. I Can Fix Him: Ribbon

28. New Ally New Plan: Dream

29. For Our Future: Nightmare

30. Captive to Queen: Ribbon

31. Into the Castle of Night: Dream

32. Restore the Balance: Nightmare

33. Better Late than Never: Ribbon

34. A Darker Lie: Dream

35. Heart Made of Lead: Nightmare

36. Pastel Redesign: Ribbon

37. Nightmare's Labyrinth: Dream?

38: Final note

Art:

Ribbon's (Doll!Ink) Reference Sheet

Human Ribbon Reference Sketch

Ribbon Apology Doodles

Azurem's Ribbon Art

Shadorio's Ribbon Art

Azurem's Ribbon + Blossom Art

Azurem's Chapter 20 Ribbon Art

Depravitycorner's Ribbon + Blossom Art

Shadorio's "Nightmare Throwing Error off a Balcony in Chapter 24" Art

Azurem's Human Ribbon Art

Artisticauras' Ribbon Art

Artisticauras' Ribbon Profile Pic

Inkedartdragons' Ribbon and FTFO Ink Art

KK_TheAnimator's Ribbon and Nightmare Art on Twitter

Shipanhookq's 'Better than This' Oneshot

Related Asks:

Prompt: Killer wants to hang out with Cross (canon, takes place between chapters 31 and 33)

Prompt: Nightmare is a racist

Prompt: Nightmare misgenders Ink

Prompt: Nightmare misgenders Ink: Electric Boogaloo

Prompt: Nightmare misgenders Ink: The Empire Strikes Back

Prompt: Nightmare misgenders Ink: Ribbon officially becomes goth

Prompt: Nightmare misgenders Ink: Separate the Star Sanses

Prompt: Nightmare tortures Ink and becomes ableist

Prompt: What if Ink asked for help with the letter back in Chapter 4?

Prompt: Dream is 110% Done with Nightmare's Shenanigans.

Prompt: Nightmare Surrenders for Ribbon

Prompt: Possible Cross x Killer x Dream

Prompt: Possible Cross x Killer x Dream 2: Dream is Pissed off

Splatoon Classes

Ribbon's Favorite Song

Headcanon: Ribbon's Seasonal Outfits

Ribbon + Blossom take over Wattpad

Nightmare's Villain Song

No Hope for Ink

Ribbon's Birthday

Chapter 37's Inspiration

Clarification on Ribbon's Happiness

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matttgirlies · 6 months ago

Text

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of an affair

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 20

In my diary entry dated April 5, I wrote, “The baby’s getting more beautiful as each day goes by. Dr. Turman said she’s healthy and progressing well. Matt went with me to the pediatrician, waiting outside in the car. He also accompanied me to the obstetrician. He’s insisting I keep up with my regular checkups taking care of both of us like a doting father.

“But I’ve been lonely for him since the baby’s birth; he is still withdrawn. It’s been two months and he still hasn’t touched me. I’m getting concerned.”

The following day, I wrote, “I asked Matt if anything was wrong, if he’s lost his desire for me. I saw this made him a little uncomfortable. He told me he wants to make sure my system’s back to normal—that he doesn’t want to hurt me. That made me feel a little better.

“We brought Charlotte to our room, put her in the middle of the bed with us. She’s such a good baby—we can’t believe she’s ours.”

Matt and I started getting back into our regular routine. Since the baby was born, we were spending more time at Graceland, eventually moving all the horses back to the original stables, James selling much of the equipment and, later, the Circle G itself.

Matt accepted fatherhood with a great deal of joy, but the fact that I was a mother had a disquieting effect on him. I didn’t understand at the time, but later on I would learn more about men who are very close to their own mothers. I am no purveyor of Freudian theory. I believe when a man comes into the world, his first unconditional love is his mother. She cuddles him, gives him warmth, the breast for nourishment, and everything he needs to exist. None of those feelings has a sexual connotation. Later, when his own wife becomes a mother, this bank of memories is ripped open and his passion may dissipate.

When Matt’s mother was alive they had been unusually close. Matt even told her about his amatory adventures, and many nights when she was ill, he would sleep in her room with her. All the girls he took out seriously had to fulfill Mary Lou’s requirements of the ideal woman. And as with me, Matt then put the girl on a pedestal, “saving her” until the time was sacred and right. He had his wild times, his flings, but any girl he came home to he had to respect.

Now I was a mother and he was uncertain how to treat me. He had mentioned before we were married that he had never been able to make love to a woman who’d had a child. But throughout my pregnancy—until the last six weeks—we had made love passionately. He’d been very careful each time, afraid that he might hurt the baby or me, but he was always loving and sensitive to my needs. Now months had passed.

On April 20 I wrote in my diary: “I embarrassed myself last night. I wore a black negligee, laid as close to Matt as I could while he read. I guess it was because, I knew what I wanted and was making it obvious. I kissed his hand, then each finger, then his neck and face. But I waited too long. His sleeping pills had taken effect. Another lonely night.”

Finally, months later Matt made love to me. Before we made love, he told me I was a young mother now, that being the mother of his child is very special. But I wrote in my diary, “I am beginning to doubt my own sexuality as a woman. My physical and emotional needs were unfulfilled.”

We returned to Los Angeles, where Matt was filming Live a Little, Love a Little. He started getting into his old habits again. Frustrated, I started searching for dance classes to enroll in. I looked through the local Yellow Pages until one class caught my attention, a school for jazz and ballet not far from home.

The studio was small and unpretentious; the owner, Mark, was an extremely attractive and dynamic man of forty-five. He was an excellent dancer and a fine teacher, and by the time I left that afternoon, I had enrolled for private lessons.

Still too shy to dance in front of a group, I wanted to wait until I was sure I could keep up with the other dancers before taking a class. I began taking private lessons three times a week. Mark’s personal interest and attention were flattering, and I was soon doing lifts and jumps, things I’d never thought I could accomplish.

He said I had the potential to be a good dancer, and he pushed me to the limit. Out of frustration and pain I would want to quit. Demanding that I continue, he told me I was building character and forced me to repeat the same routine until it was nearly perfected. This made me realize that I could go further than I’d ever dreamed.

He believed in me, and I was accomplishing something. For the first time I was creating, feeling good about myself, and I couldn’t wait to get to class each day.

Mark was charismatic and I was particularly vulnerable. In lieu of a passionate marriage, dance was becoming my life; I was obsessed with it, taking all my frustrations and feelings into the studio. I found myself thinking about Mark even when I was home. I had only seen him a few times in my life and yet I was unable to get him out of my mind. I rationalized, telling myself it was because he was always there for me. He seemed to understand me, while the man I truly loved was involved in his own world. I began to relax, enjoying myself almost against my will. It had been a while since I’d spent some time with a man who validated my abilities and appreciated spending time with me alone. It was also the first time I was not competing for my own identity. This was a high I had not experienced recently. I had a brief affair and decided to end it.

I came out of it realizing I needed much more out of my relationship with Matt. Matt and I decided to get away to Hawaii.

This was the first time we’d gone on holiday, and I was hoping that it would be a second honeymoon, that my experience with Mark would be forgotten. We took along Charlotte, her nurse, Nate, Amber, Patsy and her husband, Gee Gee, Steven and his wife Nora, and Charlie. We checked into the Ilikai Hotel on Waikiki, but soon found that Matt couldn’t go to the beach without attracting a crowd. We decided to rent a house on a private beach and spent the rest of our vacation there.

We had a great time, and Matt and I were like two kids again, away from the pressures and the filming—and away from Mark, to whom my attention would occasionally wander.

It was there that we met Tom Jones, and Matt became very fond of him. He had always enjoyed Tom’s vocal style, especially in “Green, Green Grass of Home,” which Matt had first heard while traveling from L.A. to Boston. He’d called me when they’d stopped in Arizona, encouraging me to get the record.

Tom Jones and Matt enjoyed an instant rapport. After an appearance at the Ilikai, Tom invited us to his suite, along with our group. Within minutes the champagne exploded and the party was on. We laughed, drank, joked, drank some more (lots more), jammed—and reeled back to the Ilikai at dawn. Matt had had such a good time he personally invited Tom and his group to join us the next day at our beach house. A friendship was born, a friendship of mutual respect and admiration.

One of Matt’s outstanding attributes was his conviction that there was room for anyone with talent in the entertainment field. In my experience, only a few stars are this generous. Greed, insecurity, jealousy, ego usually keep celebrities from supporting one another.

Matt could spot talent instantly. In Las Vegas, we regularly took in lounge acts featuring various up-and-coming artists, and if Matt liked the show, he patronized the club, encouraging the entertainers to pursue their careers, infusing them with confidence and enthusiasm.

Some of his favorites were Ike and Tina Turner, Gary Puckett and the Union Gap, dancers Tybe and Bracia, and old-timers Fats Domino and the Ink Spots, all talented people deserving acknowledgment in their craft.

One night we visited Barbra Streisand backstage at the International Hotel, now the Hilton. It was a classic Streisand performance and Matt, after a few too many Bloody Marys, wanted to tell Barbra his impressions. We were ushered backstage to her dressing room and Matt’s first words upon meeting her were: “What did you ever see in Elliott Gould? I never could stand him.”

In typical Streisandese she retorted, “Whaddya mean? He’s the fah-tha of my child!”—leaving Matt speechless.

Matt had some other very special favorites—Arthur Prysock, John Gary, opera star Robert Merrill, Brook Benton, Roy Orbison, and Charles Boyer’s recording “Where Has Love Gone?”

He couldn’t abide singers who were, in his words, “all technique and no emotional feeling” and in this category he firmly placed Mel Torme and Robert Goulet. They were both responsible for two television sets being blown away with a.357 Magnum.

Matt’s five-year contract with MGM was up in 1968 and he was finally free to move on to new challenges. Even Colonel admitted that Matt’s career needed a shot in the arm. NBC made him an offer to do his own television special, with newcomer Steve Binder directing. There was no initial format, but the idea was tempting and the money was right. The fact that there was no script—that it was an “open development”—made Colonel hesitant to agree. Colonel demanded more control than that, but Matt wanted to meet Steve, make sure that they could get along, speak the same language.

It had been years since Matt had appeared on TV and he was nervous. To his surprise, Steve was much younger than he had anticipated, extremely perceptive, and soft-spoken, a startling contrast to the studio heads he’d worked with, men much older, with hardened, preconceived opinions on how Matt should be packaged and sold. For the first time in years he felt creative. Steve Binder gained Matt’s trust and had the sensitivity to let Matt just be Matt. Steve observed, took mental notes, learned Matt’s ways, discovered what made his star comfortable and what got him uptight.

During their meetings Steve sensed Matt’s fear that he hadn’t been before a live audience in years but he noticed that Matt came alive backstage in the dressing room jamming with the musicians.

Each day he grew more confident and excited about his new project, taking pride once again in his appearance, watching his weight, following his diet, and working closely with the show’s costume designer, Bill Belew, creating a look we hadn’t seen him sport in years—the black leather suit.

I was surprised when he said, “Sattnin, I feel a little silly in that outfit. You think it’s okay?”

Matt knew this special was a big step in his career. He could not fail. For two straight months he worked harder than on all his movies combined. It was the most important event in his life.

During this time I was discovering whole new worlds of music—Segovia; Blood, Sweat and Tears; Tchaikovsky; Santana; Mason Williams; Ravel; Sergio Mendes; Herb Alpert—and I was anxious to share my new enthusiasms, music and dance, with my husband. I wanted to bring energy to our relationship in the hope of strengthening our marriage. Discussions at the dinner table now included Leonard Bernstein and Carlos Montoya, but they held no appeal for Matt; the TV special was consuming all his thoughts.

He was away much of the time, and when we did see each other our level of communication was strictly superficial. Each absorbed in our own separate pursuits, we had little in common except our daughter. My approach with him was delicate: I was aware of the distance growing between us. But because of his preoccupation with the special, I realized that the last thing he needed from me was a statement that I feared we were drifting apart.

In his absence, I was taking care of Charlotte in addition to attending dance classes in the morning, ballet in the early evening, and two jazz classes at night, lasting often until one in the morning. I was now studying with a new dance instructor, who was using me to give demonstrations for the evening classes. Many of the students were professional dancers. I had diligently worked my way into the company, rehearsing four hours every day to master new steps, constantly pushing myself to new limits, and eventually I was to take a place in the dance company, anonymously performing shows on weekends at colleges in the L.A. area.

Matt’s Singer TV special was a huge success, the highest-rated special of the year, and his finale, “If I Can Dream,” was his first million-sell-ing record in years. We sat around the TV watching the show, nervously anticipating the response. Matt was quiet and tense through the whole program, but as soon as the calls started, we all knew he had a new triumph. He hadn’t lost his touch. He was still the King of Rock and Roll.

It was a blessing for both of us. The hours I devoted to dance released him from the strain of my dependence. My new interest didn’t pose a threat in the sense that taking up a profession would have. I was still there to tend to his needs, as he wanted his wife to be, while also creating my own world, no longer intimidated by the magnitude of his. I was growing, learning, and expanding as an individual.

This new freedom nearly came to an abrupt end when a newcomer to the clan decided to take it upon himself to investigate my comings and goings. He reported to Matt that I was seen coming out of a dance studio at a late hour and did Matt want him to carry it any further. Matt’s unpredictability in dealing with certain crises in life could be astounding.

Logically, such a volatile man would explode. Instead, he made no accusations. His only comment was, “Little One, there are some people who are insinuating you’ve been seen coming out of a dance studio at late hours.”

“It’s true. You know I’m part of the company. It’s not just me leaving. That’s the time we break.”

I pleaded with him to tell me who was starting trouble. All he would say was, “Let’s put it this way: He’s new and he’s treading on dangerous ground. If he knows what’s good for him, he better keep the fuck to his own business.”

After the success of his special, Matt devoted several weeks to a recording session, and again he was highly motivated. For the first time in fourteen years, he’d been persuaded to record in Memphis, at the American Sound Studios, a black company where major artists, including Aretha Franklin, had recorded their most recent hits. The studio musicians were young and Matt had a great rapport with them. More importantly, he made great music with them.

He’d be at the studio singing until the early-morning hours and then return the next evening, full of energy and ready to start again. His voice was in top form and his excitement was infectious. Each cut was more terrific than the one before. We’d listen to the songs over and over, Matt yelling, “All right, listen to that sound,” or “Goddamn, play it again.”

Colonel stayed away from this session. Matt was the artist, and he was on a roll. He ended up recording so many songs, it took RCA a year and a half to release them all, including hits like “In the Ghetto,” “Kentucky Rain,” and “Suspicious Minds.”

Watching Matt sing with confidence again, honing each word in his own style, filled us all with pride. What a contrast to sessions in the past that had been filled with anger, frustration, and disappointment, resulting in late arrivals or, on occasion, no-shows.

At one point he looked over at me, smiled, then casually started singing “From a Jack to a King.” He knew it was a favorite of mine. Later he sang “Do You Know Who I Am?” As I listened to the words, I couldn’t help but relate to them.

After four years of lackluster songs, he was back on the charts again, and RCA could no longer complain about him. They’d been threatening the Colonel that if Matt didn’t have a recording session soon, they were going to rerelease some of his old songs.

One success led to another. Since his TV special, he was eager to begin performing in front of a live audience again, to prove to everyone that he hadn’t lost his touch. Looking for the best source of immediate income, the Colonel made a deal with the nearly completed Las Vegas International for Matt to headline there for a month, at a salary of half a million dollars.

Vegas was the challenge he needed to demonstrate that he could still captivate a live audience. This was what he loved most and did best. But it was a major challenge.

He hadn’t made any real demands on his voice in years and now was locked into two shows a night for twenty-eight days straight. Anxious, he wondered whether he was up to the strain, whether he’d draw sellout crowds, whether he would be able to hold an audience for a full two hours. He wanted this new act to be accepted, feeling he now had more than his rock-and-roll gyrations to offer.

Not only was this a crucial time in his career, but there was the additional pressure of the unprecedented fee and the fact that Las Vegas was the only city where he’d bombed, thirteen years earlier, in 1956.

He wasn’t the kind of person who’d come out and say, “I’m scared.” Instead I’d see it in his actions, his left leg shaking, and his foot tapping. He held in his fears and emotions until at times he would explode, tearing into anyone who happened to be around. At dinner one evening Matt said that he was concerned about his hairstyle, and I mentioned I’d seen a billboard of Ricky Nelson on Sunset Boulevard. His hair was long with a slight wave, and I thought it was extremely appealing. I innocently suggested that Matt take a look at it. “Are you goddamn crazy?” he shouted. “After all these years, Ricky Nelson, Fabian, that whole group have more or less followed in my footsteps, and now I’m supposed to copy them? You’ve gotta be out of your mind, woman.”

He left the dinner table in a rage. He had always been hailed as an original and now he was afraid that in Vegas even that wouldn’t be enough. I knew I had injured his ego and for that I apologized.

In preparing his show for the International, Matt pulled out all the stops. He was in top form—on a natural high quite independent of pills. He was more trim and physically fit than he’d ever been.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - these next few chapters will be a little slower paced sorry!!🎀

#matthew sturn #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #Spotify

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bangtaninborderland · 1 year ago

Text

JHS- Twisted Feelings (10)

Summary: After working at an award show for 2 years everything had become normal, idols were no longer exciting to see, performances became dull and every day blended together, that was until an unexpected man asked for your help.

Genre: idol!jhope × fem!reader, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, ongoing series

Warning: none for this chapter!

A/N: I’m back from seeing yoongi and it was such an experience. This is kind of a filler but I love building these characters up. Did you miss twisted feelings as much as I missed writing it?

Ch.09 < Series Masterlist > Ch.11

You woke up later than expected, Na-Rae not leaving until 1 am definitely being a bad idea. You were thankful for the late night/early morning shower you had taken which allowed you to get ready in half the time you usually would.

Today was Yoongis day, you would be lying if you said you were excited. At first, he seemed to be easy to have a conversation with but the recent events with the translation mishap only served to leave him suspicious of you, which admittedly is not great when you have to spend hours teaching him.

The conversation last night still bugged you, keeping secrets was never your thing especially when it came to work and your career but Rae had made a few good points on just why the Jung-Woo story had to remain a secret. No company would want a near murderer to work with their most precious assets.

The company lacked the reporters that Jungkook had mentioned swarming the building yesterday, you were grateful for how quickly Bighit seemed to manage security infractions.

“I need your company ID.” The woman’s voice was familiar and you recognised her as the same woman from the day of your interview.

“Oh, of course so sorry.” You chuckled lightly hoping to break the tension as you hand over the company-issued ID, the smile she returned to you is faker than the Gucci sunglasses you chose to wear this morning at the sight of the raring sun but you brushed it off, wanting to start the day in a good mood.

Even if she was a snarky bitch.

She sighed loudly, sliding your ID pass across the desk. “You’re signed in, next time come straight to the desk with the ID please.” You gave her a nod before walking away, you were not going to lose this job by running her face along her keyboard, not today at least.

The rest of the walk was quiet, a few idols passing by giving you small nods and others completely ignoring your existence. You were fine with both, too tired to care.

“Where’s your smile this morning?” You were not expecting Hoseok to come up behind you, his touch on your shoulder making you physically jump.

“HOLY SH-“ you turned to face him, calming at the sight of him and quickly composing yourself. “Hoseok-ssi.”

He tried to hold his laughter in but failed, his eyes creasing. “Sorry sorry I’ll warn you next time, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You lied, forcing a small smile.

“Would you like to get some coffee? There’s a machine around here.” His face was warm and for some reason you wish you didn’t have to decline.

“I have a class with Yoongi-ssi. I’m already short on time.”

“I’m sure Hyung won’t mind, I’ll call him now besides he was stressed and stuck on a song anyway so you probably would sit waiting for a while anyway. Only if you want of course.” He pulled out his phone waving as if tipping the scales on your decision.

You held up your hands in agreement. “Okay…but only and I mean only if he is okay with it, I would like to try and be a little happier for my class with him especially if he is having a stressful day.”

He nodded at you, grinning as if he had just won some kind of award. It left you wondering if he was truly like this with everyone. “He said it’s fine.”

“Lead the way.”

The walk there was pleasant, similar to the last time you had gone together. Hoseok made small conversations, mostly about random information he had learned about the world and his craft. His eyes seemed to hold a particular shine when he mentioned the fun they had on tour, the story of how they would pick rooms when they were unable to have one to themselves making you double over in laughter.

“Here let me.” You swiped your card, paying for both yours and Hoseoks' coffee.

“Oh.” He took the cup, eyeing you as he stirred in the sugar. “You didn’t have to do that we get them free.”

“Still, my treat. I’m happy to pay, you got the last one.” You added your own milk, stirring it before wrapping a tissue around the cup. “I’m going to get ready for my class with Yoongi-ssi, even if he is working I should be there when he finishes to start whenever he is ready.”

“You take your work very seriously, don’t you?”

You smiled, nodding. “I do, I think if you commit to something it should be taken seriously even on hard days or days you don’t want to do that particular thing.”

He hums, his lips pressed together in a hard line. “What do you think about giving up?”

“Giving up on?” You responded, sipping at the froth of your coffee.

“Anything.”

“I think in order to give up you must be brave enough to face what happens when you do, many people find a weakness in it but I find something admirable. I also think it’s okay to take a break, if you give up you can always try again. I think there are two sides to it because in life we want to see those around us reach a level of success that makes them happy so in some cases it’s okay to encourage people to not give up and to keep working towards their goals, giving up should never be something final. It’s okay to stop one thing if there’s something you want more.” He stared at you and you were absolutely sure you’d said way too much but before you could apologise he began to speak.

“Not many people have a mindset with views like that, I think when they get to know you more the members will like you.” He come to a stop as you reached the genius lab studio.

“Hyung?” He tapped his knuckles on the door, trying the handle to no avail.

“Wait.” Yoongis gravely voice called out, it was an easy sign he had been rapping. “I’m coming.”

The door opened and a dishevelled yoongi stood before you. “Oh shit.”

“Hyung!” Hoseok exclaimed.

Yoongis eyes shot open before he shook his head, apologising. “Sorry, I forgot we had a class. Let me just save my work.”

“It’s okay, take your time I’m here all day.” You tried to sound as reassuring as possible, not wanting to leave him feeling bad. He nodded to you before turning away, the door closing behind him.

“Sorry, it’s a busy time.” Hosoek swirls his coffee, sighing.

“You don’t seem as stressed, I thought there’d be staff running around and non-stop practices. Sorry, I don’t have much of an idea regarding behind-the-scenes stuff. Award shows are intense.” You try to laugh off some of the awkward and somewhat sad tension that fills the air, wanting to bring back the calming vibe held between you only moments ago. “Things will be okay.”

“Thank you. Give it a few weeks and it will be exactly like that, this is more of the mentally draining process. Preparing and practices are structured, it’s when the last-minute details get finalised and songs get finished, altered or scrapped. We’ve changed songs entirely a day or two before the same goes for choreography.”

You never truly understood how difficult it was for artists, especially the biggest group in the world. Sure it could be hectic at award shows and more than once you’d been privy to a group argument or mishap backstage but you’d never fully grasped the difficulties they face and you never be able to but you knew looking at Hoseoks false smile, you’d do anything to try and help. “If there’s anything I can do let me know, I know my work here is only a portion of the difficulty you face and has an entire lower level of importance but don’t hesitate to ask for something if you need it, the same goes for all the other members.”

“That’s really kind of you, I’ll pass it on to the other members. I should get going Hyung won’t be long, you’ll be okay?”

You stare stupidly for a moment before blinking “Yeah I’ll be okay, thank you for getting coffee with me.”

“Thank you for paying it was re-“The door beside you leading to Yoongis studio swings open, stopping just before it hit the wall.

“Oh, sorry.” The rapper mumbled, locking the door behind him. His previous state of stress was seemingly better.

“I’m just leaving Hyung, I’ll stop by later to go over those demos.” Hoseok gives you a smile before leaving, heading in the direction of his own studio.

Yoongi watches the younger man disappear around the corner before talking to you. “Sorry about the wait, you have an office right?”

“There’s no need for apologies it’s absolutely fine and yes I do, please follow me.” Thankfully there wasn’t much of a distance between Yoongis studio and your significantly smaller but still cute office.

The artist looks around some before taking a seat at the table. “It’s cosy here, you are allowed to decorate I’m not sure if anyone has told you that.”

“One of the managers did but I wanted to wait a little, I thought it would be better to focus on settling in and building up lessons with yourself and other members first.” You shuffled through the folders you had assembled for each member, finally finding the black one with Yoongi across the label.

“You made us folders?” He raises an eyebrow as you place it down on the table. “Colour coded too?”

“I like organisation and the colours for the most part were random.” You laughed, handing him a pen.

“So there’s no reason in particular mine is black, Jungkooks is black and Jin Hyungs is bright pink?”

“When you look at it that way.” You paused allowing the small joke you’d built up between you to linger. “Maybe you’re right, I’ll never spill my secrets when it comes to my filing process.”

“You sound like me when I would talk about my old USB sticks.” You felt relieved you were able to break the tension that had accompanied your previous meeting with one another.

“What can I say, I’m a genius.” You both laugh for a second before he begins reading over the lesson plan you handed him seconds earlier. “You said you wanted to be able to have conversations and you weren’t too happy with your pronunciation so I thought we could go over some exercises that may help you sound clearer. I also thought we could work on some vocabulary, because you don’t want to be fluent to the point you could live in a foreign country I think just relearning basic sentence structure and vocabulary should be enough.”

He scanned the sheet, “You really were thorough with this, to be honest when Hobi pulled you out of a job to be a translator I had more than one worry. I’m glad to see you taking this seriously.”

“He didn’t exactly pull me out of a job.” You laughed, handing him a highlighter. “My contract was nearing its end and it gave me an opportunity to have time to write and work.”

“What do you write?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

“Stories mostly, anything my imagination can conjure. I like creating a world I can escape to, where anyone can escape to even just for a short while. It’s nothing special I’m just trying to have a book published.” You laugh lightly, attempting to brush off the sudden embarrassment.

“I think that’s similar to music, I love reading I think it’s admirable you’re following your passion.” You were happy the atmosphere between you felt calmer, and he too seemed to be less stressed.

“Thank you.” You often wondered why people would do something that stressed them out to such a degree of devotion but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t understand, when you love doing something you accept whatever it comes with.

He placed the sheet down, uncapping the pen. “Should we start?”

“Sure, whenever you’re ready.”

Whenever you were teaching time never felt slow, you were used to that. Work being slow all the time despite the fast-paced environment but here it wasn’t like that, it was too fast nor too slow but time seemed to fly away which is how you were surprised when the alarm yoongi had set went off, declaring the end of the class.

You’d spent the two hours discussing conversational English, mostly things he already had an idea of but needed the specifics clarifying. He had attempted to speak English for half of the class but gave up when his memory of the language came to a standstill.

“Already? Did I set the alarm wrong?” You knew the question wasn’t directed at you as he picked his phone up, double-checking the time. “How did I do?” He turned to you, sliding the exam-style sheet back.

“You did well especially for your first class, don’t be overwhelmed by the vocabulary or speaking even. These things take time and you have to take them slowly. For an English speaker to become fluent in Korean it can take up to five years, we have an advantage because most of the time it’s taught in school, you have an extra advantage on top of that because of your continued exposure to the language. Things like vocabulary and pronunciation are easy compared to grammar and you seem to already have a great idea of that. So my overall rating is that you’re making my job very easy.”

“Maybe I should ask you to make me a report card to show my parents.” He laughs, standing up.

You follow suit, walking towards the door to open it. “If you need one let me know, I’ll even stamp it.”

“Yes, teacher.” He laughed. “Thank you for the class.”

“Please don’t thank me.”

“What are you doing here,” Yoongi asked, his voice pitched in surprise.

You greet both Taehyung and Hoseok as they step around into the doorway. “Here to pick you up Hyung, Namjoon says you’re needed for the army track.”

Yoongi shifted his feet, shaking his head. “What happened? I thought we were finished with that song already.”

“We were but Namjoon Hyung hit the wrong button and now it sounds funky rather than family,” Taehyung responded, laughing.

“It’s not that serious, we just need your input to make sure it’s back where it was.” Hoseok responds, seemingly calming Yoongis' sudden worry. “How was the class?”

You don’t realise the question is directed at you until the room falls silent. You look up from the patch on the floor to see three sets of eyes on you. “Oh, OH forgive me I’m so sorry I spaced out. It was an amazing lesson, Yoongi-ssi is an exceptionally fast learner.”

“Ah Hyung I’m proud.” Taehyung slaps his hand over his chest, pursing his lips together as he fake cries. “Is this what proud mothers feel like?”

“Why a proud mother why not a proud father?” Hoseok asks, thrown off by the comment.

“Because it’s Taehyung. Come on let’s go.” Yoongi turns to you, saying a quick goodbye. “Thank you for the class once again.”

“Literally any time.” You respond, waving them all out.

They leave in a hurry and suddenly the busy room is left with you and you alone. You just about sit down before your phone busses with a notification.

You can’t help but smile at the new text from Hoseok that reads:

JHS: “Your job isn’t unimportant nor is it easy. Have a good day.”

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mymoonss · 1 month ago

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daily jegulus fic rec :) 10/9/24 | Starry Eyes and Warm Smiles by VinylFox_Books

ch: 11 wc: 29,848

summary:

“How was your class, Reggie?” Sirius asks as Regulus walks into their flat and throws his bag down. He’s splayed out on the couch with his phone sitting on his chest.

“You know that annoying kid in my class?” Regulus asks in lieu of an answer, “Well, I’ve been partnered with them for the next while.”

Sirius hisses, “Oh no. What’re you guys working on together?”

“‘Intimate anatomy’” Regulus mocks, doing air quotes as he settles on the armchair, “We’re supposed to spend half a day getting to know each other then we’ll draw our favourite physical parts of each other.

...

Regulus gets paired with his annoying classmate in his art class, James Potter. Regulus slowly learns that James maybe isn't that bad after all and James might be able to get a date out of this whole thing.

this was so cute and flufffyyyyy omg

also nonbinary james was not smth i knew i needed but i do :’) they’re so cute ahhhhh

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #james x regulus #remus lupin #wolfstar #fic rec #fan fic #fluff fic #trans regulus #sirius and regulus #regulus being regulus

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sebastiansvertebrae · 1 month ago

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Once more to see you

Chapter 1: Life flashing

Second chapter

2,200 words long

Notes

Hello it's been awhile since I published FanFiction on Tumblr so if I'm not using the correct layout I'm sorry if you like it you can send me asks about it also all of these are posted on A03 before they're posted on Tumblr the link will be included with every chapter have fun

I think my family is Fuckkig cursed.

Dad died when I was like three. At least I think so. The last picture that I found of him was when I was three so yeah. I don't remember anything about him. And nobody seems to want to talk about him either. Maybe he was an ass.

Early tragedy but the rest of my family was pretty okay. For a while.

Mom worked hard to raise us right, always prioritizing us. She would spend her day at work and come home to work even harder. Homework, housework I don't think she ever got to have a social life. But we were enough for her. She used to say. I wish I noticed how much she was running herself ragged before.

Maybe that's why she was so strict on us. curfew, homework, chores, Church. and Maria was the one who resisted the most. Funny they say the middle is the most rebellious. Maria was an exception. She was impulsive, got into fights and even got arrested once. She was also the first one to say that she had stopped believing. And started skipping Church. I remember her and Mom arguing pretty regularly when she still lived in the house. İt was kind of scary.

So I retreated into my older brother's room where the computer was but also where the guitar was where the posters was and I still remember that wretched smell of cologne and my mom's old eyeliners the Hot topic shirts and him in the middle of it always ready to welcome me always ready to let me join in on his fun.

Sebastian, my older brother.

He was always there even more than my mother. When Mom was at work and Maria was hanging out with her friends he was there with me. He helped me make my club penguin account. He showed me how to Pirate games. He played on the computer with me. He even sometimes took me out on town when I started Middle School. His friends liked me. I felt like I was a part of the big kids.

When we were having fun I tried to record everything with his phone and the family camera. Especially when he was playing his guitar. I even sometimes join in with my horrible singing. I wanted to send them somewhere, maybe we would become Stars I imagined. He just laughed and said that he will get on to it he never did.

When I got my own phone when I started Middle School. I took it up to 11. Taking pictures and recording everything. Every outing, every song, every joke, every funny face, every moment. And then at the end of the day I uploaded them to the computer. So that I could do it all over again. And I'm so grateful that I did.

Sebastian effortlessly excelled in almost every class. Even tutoring other kids including me. He had a fun way of explaining all the topics. His favorite class was physics. He told me about how he imagined building machines. His teachers said that he had the brightest future out of all of us.

He did not have many friends but the friends he had were incredible. All of them were driven like him. I remember they were pretty nice to me when I tagged along on outings. Calling me the coolest kid they know. And praising my photography skills tells me that I might have a future in this.

And as I grew up our relationship grew up too. I started to learn more and more of his secrets. How he and his friends cheated off of each other. How his best friend was actually his boyfriend. And how much he smoked. That was always a faint smell of cigarettes as he was driving me back home. Of course I never told Mom.

When I asked him he always said It reminds me of Dad. also told me to never smoke. I'm sorry I broke that promise. I told him my own secrets too. How I had a crush on a boy. And I knew that mom wouldn't really like that. He just patted my head and said same.

I remember how he celebrated when he managed to get into that engineering program. I got a little scared that he was going to leave but it was local. And even as he was studying in a competitive program he still found time for me.

He was the perfect brother at least to me. My life was perfect, everything was perfect. But it didn't stay that way. İt couldn't stay that way. Everyday I pray to a god that I no longer believe to take me back.

I barely remember the last night before everything. We probably played some games before he went to that party. I remember him and Mom were discussing something but I don't really remember. I was spending time with my club penguin boyfriend. I wish I could hug him for the last time.

And then the hell started at that 3:00 a.m. police call. I remember my mom's shaky voice. And how there was no light in her eyes. When she turned to look at me after the call only whispering nine people.

And then I remember the smell of that room. Looking at him in that orange uniform his hands cuffed. He begged us to believe that he was innocent. I remember he cried, I cried, we all cried as a family. Mom promised that we were going to find a way out of this.

İn the next thing the hammer was hit the sentence was given. The fuckkig death sentence. I barely remember jumping out of that podium. Running to him as they're taking him away. Begging them, pleading with them. I tried to hug him and they pushed me away. I couldn't save him and I never saw him again.

I think I blocked out the rest of the ordeal. I just remembered the emotions but not. The events. I remember feeling stuck. Not being able to pick up a camera or take a picture. Waking up in a cold sweat remembering everything. And Mom wasn't any better. I watched her deteriorate. Get more and more obsessed with the case. Even if he was gone she wanted to prove his innocence. And of course Maria was nowhere to be seen.

The school kind of forced me to get counseling. And I could fear that everybody feared me. The other kids started avoiding me. My friends basically abandoned me. The counselor kind of helped me. I told everything to him. I even came out to him.

And that son of a b**** outed me so everybody hated me even more. I picked up smoking. I promised him but smell. The smell took me back. Took me back to a simple time where we just drove around town. Chatting about random stuff. İt felt like he was there with me again.

I lived like that for 2 years. The world moved on and it kept spinning. I continued getting okay grades. I kept out of trouble. I tried to be like Sebastian. This is what he would have wanted right? But one day when I was smoking after school another boy smoked with me. We got to chatting. He was from the neighboring private schooll. And then we were making out in his car.

Chris, my first real lboyfriend. He introduced me to his friends. And we all started hanging out. That was a mistake. I can see that now. They were rich kids with no consequences. But for the first time in a long time I felt happy. Even as we committed Petty crimes and drove over the speed limit.

Shortly after my 15th birthday my mom did it and she proved his innocence. I was on court that day but she didn't look happy. İt was too little too late. İnstead of this made her snap more. After that day she started planning something else. And I was too busy having fun with my new friends to notice.

Just before my 16th birthday. My mom killed Sebastian's lawyer. Brutally, violently, slowly. And she was on court on my 16th birthday. She pleaded guilty. Talking about how this was God's punishment. And God told her to do it. She didn't even get a lawyer; they gave her life.

I wasn't there. I was getting drunk and smoking weed with Chris and his friends. But Maria told me and shortly after she took custody of me moving back home. We didn't have much of a relationship before now we had none. She wasn't even home that much spending most of her time at her job. But she left me a credit card and an empty house.

So I spent all of my time with Chris as we grew up we got more and more hardcore. I had my first line of coke when I was 18. And before I turned 19 I had basically tried every drug under the sun. But they never had me but they never let me have too much. He told me that I became a buzzkill. Constantly talking about My Dead brother.

So I was always trip watching. I was looking out for the cops as they partied and committed crimes. And then they returned home to their loving Rich families. And I returned home to an empty house. I sometimes smuggled hallucinogens into the house. Bought Sebastian's favorite cologne. Bathing in the cologne and taking the hallucinogens. And then I could see him again. I could talk to him again. And for a moment everything felt right again.

But of course the trip ended when I woke up and I felt even more miserable. So I returned to Chris's house just to get more. I did everything he wanted just to get more. But I still blame myself for what I did. For agreeing to do it. They all got bailed out. I spent my 21st birthday in jail.

And I was in a courtroom again. As my charges were laid out. I plead guilty. I know what I did and I know the high security prison is what I deserve. So my family's curse continues. I'm sorry Sebastian. I'm sorry Mom. I'm sorry I ended up like this.

2 weeks before my 25th birthday the guys in the black suits came. They called for me. And I answered. They said that they were from Urbanshade and offered a complete pardon and ridiculous amounts of money. But it had a catch. Expendable not expected to return.

I should have refused this was a horrible idea. That will end with my death. But I stayed there and I considered it. I didn't have anything to return to. Mom in prison. Maria turned her back on the family. All of my friends have forgotten me. I have nothing to lose except my life. My worthless life that I ruined.

But I also feel something else, a weird feeling. That told me to go and told me to see. I remember my mom telling me that God spoke to us in our worst times. I thought about Sebastian again. I am older than him now. İf afterlife is real, maybe he will appreciate me dying for a good cause.

I accepted and then I was rushed away to a bus and airport another airport another bus and then a facility. I was given a briefing. Forced to put on the uncomfortable suit. With a bomb attached to my neck. And then I was in a submarine with four strangers. That I was probably going to die with.

And I'm just now realizing that my life just flashed before my eyes. Am I that scared? Even if I am then why did I come here? Why am I doing this? What would he think of me now? Throwing my life away on a feeling? Well I already ruined my life? And then I heard them say we are landing. As I felt the submarine stop. Well it was too late to return.

I slowly walked out. This was exactly what I expected. Cold and smooth. And then I heard an announcement basically the same thing as the briefing. Retrieve the crystal. Don't stray from the Path. Survive for as long as you can. I took a breath the air in here stank but at least it was better than being stuck on the submarine.

I quickly went for the Lockers in front of me. There were a lot of files I wanted to take a peek at but I knew that that would be unwise. I didn't want to die immediately after getting off so I put them away and then I heard somebody call for all of us. He had found a key card. He was an older looking man. We all huddled around the door. but before he swiped he turned. “I would like to know all of your names for communication purposes. My name Su-Jin’ No Su-Jin ”I nodded and gave out my name.

“Alejandro, Alejandro solace”

Ending notes

thank you for reading I hope to continue this soon hope you guys send me asks or leave a comment or reblog please that will be very appreciated

#fanfiction #archive of our own #roblox pressure #roblox #pressure sebastian #sebastians mom #sebastian solace #sebastian pressure #pressure game #pressure roblox #pressure fanfiction #pressure oc #pressure original character #family angst #angst #hurt/comfort #pressure #writing #pressure fanfic

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comfort-writing · 2 years ago

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Crayons and Cassettes

Chapter 12: Girls Day

You are a kindergarten teacher. Eddie’s daughter, Sage, is in your class. The rumor mill around Hawkins begins to spiral. Sage goes to the movies.

warnings: this fic is 18+ in previous and future chapters- minors DNI!! no use of y/n. (please let me know if I missed anything)

a/n: sorry for not updating yesterday- I wanted to take a little break. I hope this longer fluffy chapter makes up for it. let me know in the comments or my asks if you want to be added to the tag list! requests are open!

word count: 5.2k

Chapter 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 (coming soon!)

When you got a phone call from Robin asking if you wanted to hang out with her, you immediately took her up on her offer.

You were really looking forward to just having some one on time time with a friend. Although you’d definitely been welcomed into the little group, having an invitation to just hang out one on one made you feel like you really belonged.

Robin came over and watched you do your makeup, watching carefully so she could try to replicate parts of it. You taught her how to do the eyeliner look she liked too; there was a small mishap, however, it was nothing a makeup wipe and a little concealer couldn’t fix.

Once you were ready, the two of you piled into her car and she drove you into town. You stopped at some diner, a place called Benny’s, and the two of you squeezed into a booth that had probably seen better days.

“What have you been up to since I saw you at Steve’s?” You asked her, curious to know if anything exciting happened.

She shrugged, “Well, not much. I mainly did laundry and worked. But,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper after scanning the restaurant to see if anyone was listening, “a new girl started at work, and oh my god, she is so pretty.” She smiled.

You raised an eyebrow, “Ooh.. do you think she’s…?” You asked.

“I don’t know- that’s the problem. She just moved here from Chicago. Said she and her” she added air quotes, “‘partner’ broke up and she needed a change of scenery. Why she moved here I literally cannot fathom, but I don’t know.”

“Hey, I moved here for the exact same reason. It’s a good place- not expensive, plenty of jobs.. but that’s beside the point.” You rambled, “Did she like, say partner in a casual way, or like she was trying to not say another word?” You asked, leaning in and keeping your voices quiet.

“I-“ Robin was quickly interrupted by a scrawny high school age kid who wore the Benny’s uniform, asking what you guys wanted to order.

Once he was out of earshot, Robin leaned back in and whispered, “Like I said, I really don’t know. But she totally has a vibe about her.”

“A vibe?” You asked, a little confused.

“Yeah, dude.” She chuckled, “Like, she has a septum piercing and streaks of pink in her hair. I mean, you’ve at least got to break a few social norms to do that.”

You considered it for a moment, “Yeah, I guess so. But listen, I don’t want you to get your hopes up too much.” You said quietly. “I don’t want you to get hurt- emotionally or physically.”

She nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be careful. You forget I’ve been doing this for a while.” She chuckled. Robin had grown out of her awkwardness a bit as she’d aged, though there were definitely still traces of it in the way she would talk to loud when she was excited or would say something a little off topic because her mind ran faster than her mouth. It was endearing, though.

The teenager came back with your drinks; you’d ordered both ordered waters as well as milkshakes. You played it safe and got cookies and cream, while Robin ordered some strawberry-blueberry-chocolate-banana-peanut butter monstrosity. She smiled, “I’ve been coming here since high school, and I have perfected my milkshake order. You’ve got to try it.”

You wrinkled your nose at the thought, “Sorry, Robin, but I would probably die from all the sugar in that thing.” You laughed.

She shrugged and took a sip, smiling at the taste of the weirdly dark green liquid. You had no idea how it ended up that color, but you really didn’t want to know.

“How’s Eddie?” She asked, changing the subject from her love life to yours.

“He’s good. I haven’t been able to see him since you have, which kinda stinks. He’s been working a lot. I was thinking about stopping by the record store tomorrow just to drop in and say hi, but Sage goes there and hangs out while he works, so I don’t know if he’d be okay with it.” You sighed. You missed him.

“Does he not want you around her?” She inquired.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. But we just kinda want to know where we’re at before bringing her into it. It’s not easy on a little kid to see their parent with someone new, you know?” You informed her, sympathetic to Sage’s feelings.

“Well, how do you feel about it all?” She asked.

You furrowed your brows, a little confused, “What do you mean?”

“Like, you know… how do you feel about keeping the two of you apart from the two of them? If you and Eddie do end up working out… have you thought about what you would be to Sage?” She asked.

You’d been so caught up in being worried about Sage’s feelings that you really hadn’t considered your own at that point. You pondered the possibilities for a moment, sipping on your milkshake. “Well… I mean, I’m okay with keeping it from Sage for a while. I think that’s normal for anyone who has kids, you know? Making sure your relationship is sound before introducing the concept to a child… and I really haven’t thought about what I would be to Sage..”

“Would you ever want to be her step-mom?” She asked, “That’s kind of the end goal there.”

You hummed and focused on the black and white liquid in your glass, “I-I don’t know. I don’t think I’m against it at all, but I don’t know if I’d be a good mom. Like, yeah, I know I’m good with kids, but I’ve always kind of approached them in almost a scientific way, if that makes sense? I know there’s a method to how you should talk and interact with them, at least in a school setting, in order to help them learn and grow. But I am really only trained for kids 6 and below. And I just… worry, I guess, about like.. messing her up or something.” You sighed, your insecurities showing a bit.

Robin reached her hand across the table and patted your arm, “Dude, you are like, the most motherly non-mom I’ve ever met. I’m positive you’d be good at it. Yeah, you’d make some mistakes, but every parent does. And I’m willing to bet that Eddie and Sage would help you through the process of figuring it all out.” She smiled.

“I guess so… but that’s probably years down the line before that would actually happen, so at least I’ve got time to get used to the idea.” You chuckled.

The waiter came back with your food, and you and Robin dug in. As you ate your french fries, a familiar face walked into the door: Mrs. Robinson, the other kindergarten teacher. She spotted you and you waved. She smiled and walked over to your table.

“Hey, Mrs. Robinson.” You greeted, smiling and cordial. “This is my friend, Robin.” You said, chuckling at the similar names.

“Oh, I know Robin.” She hummed, “She was one of my students years ago.” She’d definitely aged from the time Robin had been in her class, but she still looked and dressed the same. “And you can just call me Anne outside of work.”

Robin smiled up at her, “Nice to see you again.”

“Care to join us?” You asked, trying to be polite.

“Oh, thank you, but my husband is on his way here.” She smiled, then you saw it falter for a moment, “But I do have something to ask you.”

You raised an eyebrow, scooting over so she could sit next to you in the booth, “What is it?” You asked, having no clue as to what she could possibly ask you about.

“Well, I heard a rumor.. and I really just wanted to clear the air about it. I have no doubt in my mind that it’s not true, but I just wanted to confirm with you.” She said, waving her hand dismissively at the idea.

“What did you hear?” You asked, having a sinking feeling you knew where this was going.

“Well,” she started, clothing her purse close to her and leaning in, “I heard that you and that Eddie Munson boy were dating.” She chuckled, “Ridiculous, right? You wouldn’t go out with a boy like that- he’s not.. well, he’s from the wrong side of the tracks, literally.”

You felt Robin’s eyes on you, and you could practically feel her anger bubble, but you decided to keep it simple and professional.

“Oh, actually, Anne, I am. Dating Eddie, that is.” You smiled warmly, though you kind of wanted to punch her in the leg for how rude she’d been about it.

She looked utterly scandalized. “What?” She asked, clutching her purse in her lap, “Why- why would you ever do that, dear? Is your head screwed on straight?” She’d dropped her usually pretentious manner at this point, while you remained, outwardly, cool as a cucumber.

“Well, he’s a good man.” You said, slightly emphasizing the last word to correct her use of the word ‘boy’. “He has a good job, he just bought a home, and he is kind to everyone around him. I don’t see how that’s a bad thing.” You stated simply.

She sighed, grabbing your hand and holding it desperately. You wanted to smack it away, but you refrained, “Dear, he’s bad news.. he got a girl pregnant during his third repeat of senior year in high school. He notoriously deals drugs, he listens to that awful devil-worshiper music, he’s got these horrendous tattoos, and I mean, you’ve seen the way he dresses…and I heard that he was the leader of some Satanic-cult when he was younger.” She pleaded. “I don’t know how that precious baby girl hasn’t been taken from his home- it’s not safe.”

The longer the list became, the more agitated you felt, but you couldn’t let it show. If you made a scene, you’d only spur the rumors on. You took a deep breath, “Anne, he is a good man.” You reiterated, “Sure, he may have an eclectic sense of fashion and off-beat music taste, but that’s really all there is to it. He’s not a drug dealer, I like his tattoos, and the so-called ‘cult’ you’re referring to is just a storytelling game. It’s quite dorky, if I’m being honest.” You chuckled. “Plus, he is an amazing dad. He provides everything for Sage- she literally has anything she could ever want. And he’s involved. He came to every parent teacher conference, every recital, and he read to her every night to ensure she was excelling in school. He does a great job with her, and honestly, I think it’s a shame that more people done see that.” You paused for a moment before continuing, “You judge him based on his outward appearance and silly rumors you hear around town. But, if you had an actual conversation with him, you’d know that he is kind and genuine and absolutely hilarious.” You felt Robin smile with pride at your sentiments. “It’s quite foolish to think that anyone is not worth more than what you’ve heard about them, don’t you think?”

Mrs. Robinson shook her head and let your hand go, moving to get up, “I’m only trying to help you out, dear.”

“I appreciate that, but I can take care of myself.” You said coolly. “I’ll see you in our professional development workshop in two weeks.” You said, smiling like none of this phased you.

She left to go sit with her husband, and you looked over at Robin. “Woah, dude.. you’re like, the most level headed person I’ve ever met.” She mused.

Your smile turned strained, “Well I’m not about to be. Let’s go so I can say some choice words about what just occurred.” You said through gritted teeth.

Robin smiled and nodded quickly, digging cash out of her purse and slamming it on the table as the two of you got up from the table.

Once her car was out of the parking lot and onto the main road, your hands were flying around in the air as you yelled, Robin cackling in the drivers seat.

“What the absolute fuck was her problem?! First of all, how is it any of her business who I choose to be with? I don’t give a fuck about her old bag of a husband, so why should she care what I do outside of school? Secondly, how the hell can she just judge someone based off of shifty rumors that were spread about him fucking years ago! Like, how fucking shallow can you be! Lastly, how dare she have the nerve to sit there and call Eddie a bad dad! He’s literally one of the best parents out there, hands down. Ugh, I want to show her Sage’s scores alone compared to her entire class just to shove that shit in her face!”

Robin laughed, “Yeah, literally what was her problem?” She asked, “And oh my god, you should have seen her fucking face when you said you two were going out! She looked like you’d shit in her cereal!” She cackled. “And how were you so calm? Oh my god you should take up acting! You have an amazing talent there- you should really capitalize on it!”

You groaned, “Well if I was even the slightest bit rude to her, she could’ve confirmed that he was like, ‘ruining me’, or whatever else she and her friends talk about when they gawk at the freshly eighteen lifeguards at the pool.” That made Robin laugh so hard to the point where she had to pull over in a random parking lot so she wouldn’t crash her car. “She also could’ve come for my job somehow. So I really wanted to kill her with kindness. Really let her choke on it.”

“Hell yeah, man” Robin said, holding her sides as you joined her laughter. “But seriously, you should’ve seen her face when you didn’t give her any sort of a reaction. She looked like she was going to explode.”

The two of you howled in her car, eventually dying down and wiping stray tears and hiding your sore stomachs. Once the two of you recovered, you guys looked up and saw that you were actually in the parking lot of the record store and that Eddie was in the window, staring at the both of you with the most bewildered look on his face. He looked like a lost puppy, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to the side. You and Robin made eye contact again, paused for a moment, then bursted out into peals of laughter yet again.

Since he’d already spotted the two of you, you both d decided to head inside the store. You got out of the car, shut the door, and linked your arm with Robin’s as the two of you walked in, still giggling.

“What is going on with you two?” Eddie asked, your laughter infecting him and making him chuckle.

“Sorry- it’s really not funny.” Robin sighed, “It’s actually kinda shitty, but it’s ridiculous, so it’s a little funny.”

You nodded, releasing Robin’s arm so she could go look around the store while you turned to Eddie to explain. “My coworker, Mrs. Robinson, you remember her?” You asked.

Eddie nodded.

“Well, Robin and I went to Benny’s. She walked in and criticized my choice in men, essentially.. Were really laughing at how I basically stone faced my way through it and she looked like she was going to shit her pants.” You sighed, rubbing a hand through your hair.

“Oh..” he whispered, sticking his hands in his pockets, looking a little dejected.

“I defended you, though, I swear.” You assured him, reaching out to grab his forearm gently. “I didn’t just like, let her bad mouth you. I just kind of… told her off with a smile on my face.”

Eddie shook his head quickly, “Oh, I have no doubt that you did that. I just-“ he placed his hand over the one you’d placed on his arm, “I hate that you’re catching flack for this. Hawkins isn’t an easy town for the unconventional.” He whispered, looking a little sad.

You raised an eyebrow, “Eddie, my skin is thicker than you think. I can put up with a lot of shit. And I really don’t care what other people think, as long as we’re good.” Your hand dropped from his arm to his hand, “The literal only reason I waited was because of my job. Hawkins’ opinion of me is irrelevant.”

He sighed and nodded, leaning in and kissing your forehead gently, “You’re kind of a badass.” He mumbled into your hair.

Robin overheard that statement and smiled, “Hell yeah she is, man. You should’ve seen her- so calm and relaxed while also ripping that old fart a new one. It was great.”

You laughed, leaning into Eddie‘s touch for a moment before he had to get back to work. “Hope you don’t mind we stopped in. We weren’t planning on it.”

He waved a hand dismissively as he went back to alphabetizing records, “You guys are always welcome.”

“Is Sage here?” You asked in a whisper.

He nodded, “She’s in the break room in the back. I’m sure she’ll run out here soon- she’s almost finished with her snack. I bet she’ll be happy to see you guys. The poor girl has been so bored all day, I just can’t exactly give her much to do.”

You nodded and started walking around the store, deciding to get some music while you were there. You peeled over to Robin’s stack of cassettes, which consisted of the usual pop stuff you’d hear on the radio.

It didn’t take long for Sage to wander out of the back of the store. She first ran to Eddie, who pointed to you and Robin, whispering something you couldn’t hear. She beamed and ran over to where the two of you stood, yelling your names and pulling Robin’s legs into a bear hug before doing the same to your own.

“Hey, kiddo!” Robin smiled, “How ya doin’?”

“I’m so booorrreeeddd.” Sage groaned, tossing her head back dramatically. She looked just like her dad in that moment and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I’m sorry, Sage.” You sighed, “But, I might have something you can do.”

She picked her head up and eyed you suspiciously, “What?”

You crouched down to her level, “I need help finding some good music. Can you help me pick some stuff out?” You asked, Robin chiming in a short, “Me too.”

Sage beamed, excited to have a mission to complete. She grabbed one of yours and one of Robin’s hands enthusiastically and led you two through the store, pointing at the sections she liked, which mostly consisted of kids records. You guys played along, picking up records and examining each one and making a show out of either putting them in your pile or wrinkling your nose and putting them back, making her laugh.

You were so focused that you didn’t notice how Eddie had lost his focus. His eyes trained on you as you humored his daughter, helping her combat her boredom. The corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile, his chest swelling with a mixture of pride and joy. He loved that the two of you were friends.

Robin spotted him while you were busy making Sage giggle by holding a record up to the light like you were inspecting a dollar bill. She smirked at him, seeing how he was watching you, causing a blush to bloom across his cheeks and making him whip his head back to his work quickly.

Robin turned back to you and whispered something in your ear, and you smiled and nodded at the idea. She then walked up to Eddie, clapping him on the back, causing him to jump a little.

“Hey buddy old pal.” She chuckled.

Eddie sighed and looked down at the girl, having a feeling she was up to something, “What do you want, Buckley?” He deadpanned.

She laughed loudly, “Oh shut up, I’m trying to help you.” She took a beat before nudging him, “You want us to take Sage off your hands for a couple hours? We were planning on going to see a movie later, so we could take Sage with us so she doesn’t have to sit around here all day. It would be a great way for the two of them to bond too.”

Eddie thought about it for a moment, wishing that he could’ve been the one going with the two of you instead of Robin. “Yeah, sure. Just- we aren’t telling Sage about us yet, so could you please be on your best behavior?” He asked her.

She smiled and nodded before spinning on her heel and going back over to you, nodding her head like a little kid who’d just been told they could have a sleepover. You smiled and continued searching the store with her.

After you’d been convinced to buy a couple random cassettes by Sage, you walked over to Eddie hand in hand with his daughter, “Hey, we’re ready to check out.” You smiled.

Eddie turned and nodded, heading to the register and trying not to get flustered by your smile and how you interacted with his daughter. He’d tried to date in the past, but everyone had quickly bolted when they’d heard about his kid. So seeing you embrace her, while also liking him, felt like some kind of miracle.

You placed your items on the counter and picked up Sage and placed her there as well, “So, dad, can Sage come with us to the movies?” You asked, acting like she was one of the girls. “We’ll only let her have all the popcorn and candy and soda she could ever want.”

Sage’s eyes lit up and she looked at Eddie excitedly, “Please?” She asked, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes. You copied her face, trying not to giggle.

He looked between the two of you, “You guys are going to be the death of me.” He chuckled, “But sure, Sage. You can go. We’ll just have to make sure we brush your teeth extra good before bed, okay?”

She nodded and smiled like it was Christmas morning, squealing and hugging you. You smiled and patted her back, watching Eddie put your items in a paper bag. She released you and you leaned over the counter, resting your elbows on the cool surface, “You want me to drop her off at your house after?” You asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, I get off work at 6, so I should be home by the time the movie gets out.” He handed you your bag and Robin walked up to purchase her items as well.

Once the two of you had everything, Robin picked up the bags and you picked up Sage, holding her on your hip like you’d been doing so for years. Eddie wanted to pull you into a kiss right then, but he knew better. That would’ve really confused Sage.

Robin smiled, “Well, thanks for letting us kidnap your child. We’ll be sure to spoil her so she won’t sleep tonight.” She joked.

The two of you walked back out to her car, and you buckled Sage into the back seat. “Oh, I think I forgot something inside. I’ll be right back.” You smiled before closing her door and walking into the shop. Robin knew exactly what you were doing, but she turned and talked to Sage to keep her occupied until you came back.

You walked back into the empty record shop and Eddie looked at you from the counter, “Hey- everything okay?” He asked. You smiled and walked behind the counter, then grabbed his hand and dragged him to the back room, which made him raise his eyebrows raise in shock, “What are you do-“

Once you were out of the field of view of the parking lot, you pulled Eddie down to kiss you. He was a bit surprised at first, but after a moment, he leaned into it and kissed you back, his arms wrapping around your waist.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and he pulled you close, melting into your presence. After a moment, he broke the kiss slowly and looked down at you, a little starstruck, “What was that about?” He asked, smiling against your lips, neither of you having backed away.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. I like you.” You whispered, making eye contact with him and keeping him close.

He hummed, “I don’t either. And I like you too.” He leaned in once more and kissed you again, humming against your lips before you two separated, stepping back. “By the way, totally unfair that Sage gets a movie date before I do.”

You chuckled, “Our first date was a movie.”

“Yeah, but there wasn’t movie theatre popcorn.”

“Well I’m free this weekend if you want to go.”

He nodded and pecked you one more time before you turned and walked out, Eddie smacking your ass lightly as you walked away, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes as you left the store.

The ride to the theatre was filled with terrible singing, as Robin insisted on cranking up the radio and rolling the windows down. Once you guys pulled into the movie theatre parking lot, you helped Sage get out and the two of you held her hands, lifting her up and swinging her as you walked into the theatre.

You guys picked a child appropriate movie to watch, bought the tickets, then raided the concession stand, buying way more snacks than the three of you could consume within a 2 hour window. You found your seats and got comfy, passing the popcorn bucket between the three of you, Sage in the middle and having to use both hands, as the thing was half her size.

The movie started and Sage was transfixed, giggling at the obvious jokes while you and Robin chuckled at the jokes they included for the adults in the room. When she’d had her fill of the snacks, Sage sighed and leaned against you, resting her little head on your arm. You moved it and allowed her to rest on your side as you wrapped an arm around her.

You looked over at Robin, who’d noticed the sweet scene, and smiled softly. She gave you a subtle thumbs up and turned her attention back to the screen.

Eventually, Sage fell asleep against you, her head having slowly drifted to your lap with tired eyes. You played with her hair as she slept, and you and Robin sat through the rest of the movie, whispering “that’s what she said” every time the joke could’ve been set up.

Once the credits rolled, you slowly moved and picked Sage up, letting her sleep as you walked out to the car. You had to rouse her when you got in, though, as she needed to sit up so you could buckle her in. She whined, but complied, sleepy and rubbing her eyes.

The ride over to Eddie’s was quiet, the radio playing softly as you watched Hawkins pass outside of the window. Robin pulled into Eddie’s driveway and you suddenly realized that you hadn’t been to his house yet.

Sage had fallen asleep again in the backseat, so you slowly got her out, telling Robin that you had it- don’t worry. She stayed in the car as you walked to the front door and knocked, rubbing Sage’s back as you waited for him to answer.

Eddie opened the door and saw his baby girl asleep in your arms. The sight made his knees feel a little weak. “Hey.” He whispered, stepping aside to let you in.

You smiled and walked into his house. It was cozy. There weren’t many decorations, but there was a killer music collection in the living room, bookshelves lined with cassettes and records and CDs, along with a few different ways to play the music. An acoustic guitar sat in the corner, covered in sparkly princess stickers, courtesy of Sage. A bin of toys sat beside the couch, and Sage had apparently set up a stuffed animal tea party at the bar in the kitchen. You really wouldn’t have expected anything else. It was perfect.

“Sorry it’s kind of a mess.” He whispered.

You shook your head, “It’s fine.” You adjusted Sage on your hip, “Where’s her room? I can just go lay her down.”

He led you down a hallway and to a room that looked like a rainbow sparkle unicorn barfed in it. It was so cute. You laid Sage down in her little bed before you and Eddie snuck out. You stretched as the two of you walked back to the living room, “You have a good day at work?” You asked, raising your arms above your head and stretching your back.

“Yeah. The usual, I guess. Seeing you was nice.” He smiled, reaching over and placing a hand on your waist, “Thank you for taking Sage. She was so bored. I feel bad- I really can’t afford a regular babysitter during the summers, so I just take her with me. There’s a tv and stuff in the break room, but having to entertain yourself for that long when you’re five years old is not easy.”

You nodded, “Of course, Eddie. I love hanging out with her.” You hummed, “And if she’s ever bored again, you can always call me and I can take her for the day.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He said softly.

“Yeah, I don’t. But Sage is a fun kid. Plus it’ll get me out of the house. I feel like I’m rotting in there.” You joked.

He chuckled, “Thank you.” He whispered before pulling you in for a hug. You hugged him back, taking in how he smelled: dust from the record store, a stale cigarette, coffee, and cologne mixed into an interesting and intoxicating smell that was distinctly him. You backed out of the hug, then looked down the hallway to ensure Sage wasn’t walking down it before leaning up and kissing him sweetly.

“I’ll see you this weekend?” You asked, looking hopeful.

He nodded, “Of course. I can’t wait.” He smiled.

You nodded and left his house, piling back into Robin’s car and driving off, feeling warm and fuzzy all over. Maybe you could let yourself start to think about the future a little more.

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