#started thinking about this girl i was fucking one time and then it just snowballed lmfao

[ladyylesbian]

Sorority Rules (18+)

Pairing: dom!wandanat x sub!fem!original character

Summary: ‘New Year, New Me’ can start in September...right?

Warnings: MINORS DNI! Pet names, mommy kink, daddy kink, reader has a name? (Honestly idk anymore, tell me if I missed something?)

Word Count: 11.2k

A/N: This really was just me proving something to myself, but I hope you enjoy it all the same :) Continuation of this story is on AO3

you do not have permission to translate/repost my works anywhere! all mistakes are mine and mine alone. likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome & appreciated <3

Freshman year left you beat down on the floor. You had been roomed with a girl named Hela. The two of you had hit it off instantly. In fact, you spent so much time together that everyone would know if they found one of you, then they could find the other nearby, definitely helped that you somehow had the exact same class schedule. By the end of the first semester, Hela asked you out and one week later, she asked you to be her girlfriend. 

What was the happiest month turned dark and lonely. Hela spent more and more of her time focused on her sorority since being officially accepted. She had set completely insane restraints on you. You had to text her every hour whenever you were apart, it didn’t matter that she wouldn’t acknowledge your messages. She even would rarely show up at the dorm room to sleep, claiming that the sorority house was where she needed to be, but demanded a picture of you in bed every night. 

You had long since given up expecting to see her anywhere but during classes, however, when she sat down with the other girls in her sorority looking you right in the eyes as she did, you finally broke. That was your time together and she was so obviously picking them.

That only snowballed into her eating lunch in the quad with them too. She took you to a few sorority parties and introduced you to her ‘favorite person’ and sorority big sister, Carol. The two were attached at the hip which quickly left you to nurse a drink off in the corner. 

You didn’t have the backbone to say anything, blindly hoping she would realize how much she missed you and run back.

It wasn’t until right before the end of year finals that Hela had stayed back in the dorm room once again. The two of you would study nonstop and laugh and joke. Everything you had spent months wishing for was happening. The girl you liked was back.

After finishing your last final before Summer break, you waited for her in the hallway. Less than 15 minutes later she pushed open the classroom door and stepped out. You locked eyes and she rushed up and gave you a hug. “Thank you so much, Madelyn. I really could not have passed these finals without you.”

Smiling warmly at the raven haired girl, “Always. It’s you and me all the time. I couldn’t show up to sophomore year without you next to me.”

Her eyes fell downwards before slowly reaching yours again. “About that, Madelyn, I think we should end things. You are just in such a different place than me and I am changing my major, so we won’t be in the same classes anyways. Not to mention, you can really blow up my phone and I am just not into that. But thank you so much for the help this year.” You can’t help but stare at her wide eyed, blinking repeatedly as you try to process her words. She pats your cheek before turning around and walking down the hall “Have a good summer!”

The only thought running thought your mind is ‘what the fuck.”

-

You cannot believe this day is finally here, sophomore year of college. After a thoroughly disastrous freshman year, you are determined to completely turn your life around. A new roommate, new classes, if you can be picky, then hopefully a solid friend group will be thrown in there too. 

It was still a few days before the actual first day of classes, but you wanted to get into your new dorm and settle in. There were quite a lot of other students with the same idea, all unpacking their parents cars that were stuffed full. You quickly paid the taxi driver and hopped out the back seat. He opened the trunk and lifted your suitcase onto the road. 

Dragging your bag up the sidewalk and settling in the line waiting for the booth to find your new dorm room and collect the room key. You look around, wondering if your new roommate is in this same crowd, thinking if her parents are holding back tears as they hug her goodbye. 

Thankfully, before you can stumble too far down that path, you reach the front of the line. “Name and year?” 

“Oh, uh, Madelyn Andrews. Sophomore.” She flips through the pages and finds your name with ease. Looking down into her organized box of keys, she picks up on set, “Room 616.”

With a soft smile, you accept the key and head towards the sophomore dorms.

Thankfully, there’s an elevator in all the dorm buildings once you’re no longer a freshman. You always joked that it was the university’s way of hazing the entire freshman class. 

The slow elevator had you wondering if you could have walked the stairs and ended up there faster, but eventually, opened onto the sixth floor. You held your breath as you walked up to your door. 

Pressing your ear against the wooden surface and straining to try and hear any movement. It sounded completely empty inside. With a quick ‘thank you’ to the skies above, you push the key into the lock and turn, opening the door. 

Unsurprisingly, it is the same layout as your freshman year dorm, not that you were superstitious, but in the spirit of completely turning your life around you opted for the bed on the right this time.

It didn’t take more than an hour for you to put away your clothes and set up the small mementos of your friends from back home. Walking back over to your suitcase, you pull out a small blanket that barely is long enough to cover your legs and hide it under your pillow. 

Laying on your new bed and scrolling your university’s Instagram page, trying to find something to do that can pass the time. That’s when you see there is an early bird trivia event being hosted at the student center in ten minutes. 

Taking a second to think, you come to the conclusion that this is the perfect chance to meet new people. Reinvent yourself as someone social, someone beyond only one friend turned girlfriend. 

Softly pushing yourself off the elevated bed, you walk over to the shared closet and pull out your favorite white crew neck in case the temperature drops after sunset. With an unbalanced turn, you spin around and pull on your black and gray checkered vans. Hopping over to the mirror to give yourself a fast once over then heading straight out the door.

It’s only a short walk to the student center from your dorm this year, which you’re thankful for, perfect for meeting new people. 

Remembering how heavy the student center door is, you pull hard on the handle. The universe must be laughing at you because that seemed to be the wrong choice. The usually heavy door was light this year and you have just thrown the door as wide as it would go, causing a decently loud sound. 

A few students near the door look at you, but thankfully the other students further into the building haven’t seemed to notice a thing. Which is where the trivia is being held, so you awkwardly walk through the doors and inside.

“Hello, welcome to early bird trivia: musicals. Are you joining a team or registering a new one?” states a wide eyed brunette woman. 

“Oh, I didn’t know we had to have a team..” you begin to look around for anyone you might vaguely recognize. “Not a worry, dear. We have another girl looking for a team too. You two can partner up.” She starts to wave over a blonde, who’s smiling bigger than you would think possible.

She continues, “This is..” she pauses waiting for you. “Madelyn.” 

“And she needs a team as well. So, what will the team name be?”

Before you even have a moment to think of something clever, the blonde speaks up, “Mac n Cheese Lovers.” You cannot help but snort at her abruptness. The brunette hands you a paper and pencil to write down your answers on, “Good luck ‘Mac n Cheese Lovers.”

Following the blonde over to a table near the smoothie bar along the left wall, as she sits down she introduces herself, “Hey. My name is Yelena. I hope you like Mac n Cheese or this team name will be super awkward,” she snickers.

You shake your head slightly, “The name is perfectly fitting. I’m a huge fan,” you laugh, “My name is Madelyn. It’s nice to meet you. So what year are you in?”

“Sophomore,” the blonde replies, “How about you?”

“Same, sophomore.” The two of you continue with small talk for a couple minutes until you hear the game host start speaking. He gives a quick introduction of his name and lets everyone know he’s the student activity director, so he plans all university approved events. Which leads him to a quick warning that means no drinking or drugs at these events since he’s required to report them to the Dean. Then, he gets into the trivia rules.

Once he finishes, Yelena leans over to you, “We have to win. Or at least beat my annoying sister and her girlfriend.” 

You raise your eyebrow at the woman, “If you knew people, how come you didn’t team up with them?”

She waves off your question before pointing them out, “See those two redheads? That’s them. They are insufferable at any sort of competition. We need to show them up and win, so I hope you’re a musical lover because I am most certainly not a musical theater major,” she chuckles as she finishes her sentence.

“They do look insufferable,” you agree with the blonde, “and lucky for you, while I am not a musical theater major, I am a lover of Broadway, so get ready to kick some ass.”

Yelena claps you on the back and laughs, “I like you, Madelyn. Let's do this.”

“Okay, everyone, first question. What musical movie has the song ‘It's the Hard-Knock Life’?”

You quickly write down ‘Annie’ on the paper next to the number one as he repeats the first question.

“Second question, the musical Hairspray is set in what American city?”

Once again, you write down ‘Baltimore’ immediately next to the number two as he repeats the question. 

And the process repeats itself all the way to the end. You, unsurprisingly, knew every answer, besides two. Thankfully Yelena seemed very confident in the answers, which led you to learning that while she was not an overall musical lover, she was obsessed with ‘SIX’, claiming ‘they all should have just murdered that idiotic king’. 

By the end, you and Yelena are laughing together and being shushed by other teams around you trying to think. Yelena pays them no mind while she tries to watch and see if her sister and her girlfriend are guessing the answers correctly by the way she’s writing. You tried to tell her that would be impossible to know, but the blonde paid you as little mind as she did the surrounding teams. 

Finally, the host announces for everyone to settle down and starts going over the list of correct answers. Yelena is practically levitating off the seat with how excited she is. Your team got every question right. “Okay everyone, count up your total of correct answers.” He waits a few seconds before beginning again, “raise your hand if your team got more than five correct.”

Faster than lightning, Yelena's hand is in the air, yours follows quickly. “Raise your hand if your team got more than ten correct.” Three other teams' hands go down. “Raise your hand if your team got more than fifteen correct.” Another two teams’ hands lower. Leaving your team, two other teams, and Yelena’s sister’s team, much to the blonde’s annoyance. 

“Raise your hand if you got more than seventeen correct.” One team puts their hands down. “Raise your hand if you got more than eighteen correct.” The other team drops their hands. Making the final two teams, ‘Mac n Cheese Lovers’ and ‘Traitors’, if you were to believe Yelena. 

“Looks like we have a tight race everyone, how exciting, keep your hands up if you got all twenty questions correct.” A moment of tense silence falls over the room, the redheads slowly lower their hands. A loud, piercing scream sounds off beside you, “Yes! Ha! I won! So much for ‘Yelena you don't know anything about musicals. Go find your own team’.” The blonde begins doing her victory dance as you laugh. She grabs your hand and motions for you to victory dance with her. And how could you say no when you are equally excited about the win.

“We have our winners, everyone congratulations to..” the host drags off his sentence.

“Mac n Cheese Lovers!” the two of you say while laughing and dancing together.

“Congratulations to ‘Mac n Cheese Lovers’. Thank you to everyone for coming out and starting off this year with a bang! I will see you at the next activity!” Slowly everyone staggers out of the student center and into the night as you’re exchanging Instagrams with Yelena and saying your goodbyes. 

Not even three steps away from the table, you hear someone speaking to Yelena, “Clearly, you didn’t win with your own lack of knowledge. So, what’s her name?” Not wanting to look back and have them know you’re listening, you keep walking as you hear Yelena reply “Madelyn. Why?”

Cursing yourself for not slowing down because now you’re too far away to keep trying to listen, you look over your shoulder right before walking out the doors. Locking eyes with two pairs of green eyes staring back at you.

-

Spending most of your days walking around campus and figuring out the quickest way to each of your classes, then finding a second route.., and a third route, just in case. Eventually making your way to the cafeteria since it’s the only food place open on campus until classes begin and sitting out in the quad people watching as more and more people arrive. You haven’t met up with the blonde, or the two mysterious redheads, you met at trivia since. However, you are often sending memes back and forth which you take as a small step towards your first new friend of the year. 

It’s officially one day until classes start and you still haven’t met your roommate. You have considered walking back to the welcome booth and asking if you even have a roommate since it’s extremely uncommon to not be moved into the dorms by this time. 

As much as most people would love to strike luck and get a free single, that is the absolute last thing you want. 

The universe finally seems to answer your silent worrying and wishing as you hear someone fumbling with the keys outside your door. Quickly, you hop from the bed and rush to open the door. Coming face to face with a dark haired brunette.

“Oh, good, you’re moved in already!” Taken aback by the woman’s words, your focus shifts between her and the large number of boxes next to her in the hallway.

“Do, uh, do you need help?”

“That’d be great. My name’s Kate. You’re Madelyn, right?”

A wave of shock hits you at hearing someone you’ve never met know your name. Seeing the look on your face causes Kate to laugh. She starts to shimmy inside and you hurriedly move to the side, so she can walk in easier. Once she’s in, you step out of the room and pick up one of the boxes. “It is, yeah. So, where do you want this?”

“You can just throw everything on the bed.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to move everything into the small dorm. Laughing as you both try to move around with the now limited floor space since Kate’s bed was quickly filled up with boxes. 

After an offer to help the brunette unpack her things, you figure out she is quite uncaring about her clothes, but she is very particular about her bow. You learn she joined the school archery team last year, but already stands to make captain for her second year. 

She tells you about how last year, on a dare, she hit the bell tower with an arrow. “So, you were the one who caused the crack in the bell tower?” Covering your mouth to try and hide your laugh. She looks at you with wide eyes, “I can’t confirm or deny which clock tower it was.”  

Which only causes you to lose all control and laugh wildly out loud. 

-

Successfully surviving the first four weeks of your second year in college, you get to celebrate at the first football game of the season. Thankfully, Kate is not into the sorority scene like your ex was, so you can go to the game together rather than alone.

With your back against your bed and your feet up the side of the wall, you’re waiting for Kate to get back from her archery practice. She made captain last week which led to you both sneaking out of the dorm at midnight and walking to the nearest pizzeria for a celebratory pizza. Your memory was promptly interrupted by the door slamming into the wall, “Shit. Sorry.”

Laughing at Kate’s mumbled apology to the girls next door who always complain about you two being unnecessarily loud. The brunette throws her sweaty t-shirt at your face which you quickly launch back at her as she softly shuts the door. 

“Hurry up and get ready, Bishop. The game starts in thirty minutes and you smell like a wet dog.”

“Your words are so sweet. Dipped in honey I would say,” Kate’s words laced with sarcasm as she playfully flips you off while kicking off her shoes. 

“Only in honey? You don’t get the soft rose petals or melted chocolate too?” Your words only earn you a deadpan stare from the archer. With a grunt, you push yourself off the wall and sit upright, “Don’t forget that tonight is a black out game, so you need to be in all black to show support.”

“Oh yes, I would hate not to show support. Unfortunately, all my black clothes are currently dirty-”

“I know, which is why I took the liberty of doing our laundry earlier today. Your outfit is laid out on the bed.” You say with a smile and move to make your fingers into the shape of a heart.

Kate can’t help but roll her eyes and laugh, “Of course, you did.” Walking up to her shower bag and picking it up, she heads to the door. “I will be back in no less than 10 minutes, Sargeant,” winking at you, knowing you hate the nickname, before quickly mumbling out, “and thank you for doing my laundry. You’re the best.” and walking out of the room.

Rushing a quick ‘You’re welcome’ out before the door shut. You begin getting dressed yourself, deciding on a black halter top and some black jean shorts with your black high-top converses. Throwing your hair up into a high ponytail, then pulling out your baby hairs so you don’t look like an egg.

True to her word, Kate walks back in 10 minutes later as you put headphones in and stare at the ceiling, you give your roommate privacy to get ready. 

Feeling your headphones ripped out of your ears causes you to face the archer as she smiles, “How do I look? Andrews approved?” Kate stands in front of you in black long sleeve cropped top and blacked ripped jeans.

Jokingly, you raise an eyebrow at her, faking a moment of contemplation before returning the smile, “You look hot. You will definitely grab whoever’s attention you want.”

“I don’t want anyone's attention, '' the brunette scoffs.  

“Sure you don’t and I don’t hope that my 7am professor is sick on Monday,” you retort.

“I don’t even think she is gonna be there,” Kate starts pulling on the sleeves of her shirt, “I don’t think football games are her thing.”

You take a moment to consider what to say. It’s been months since you had a crush on anyone and wanted to try and impress a girl. When you first found out your roommate started crushing on someone, you had been relentless in attempting to have her confess who it was. But as stubborn as you were, Kate was also head strong in keeping her secret. 

“Her loss then. We can post a picture and she’ll see everything she misses out on by skipping the game,” you wink. Linking arms, you and Kate walk out of the dorm and head to the field. 

The first stop you both make is the concession stand since food is the top priority any time the two of you leave the dorm together. Ordering you both an ICEE, yours being coke flavored and Kate’s cherry, and a hot dog each. 

Once arriving at your seats, you turn around and ask the girls behind you if they could take a picture for you. You both hold up your ICEEs, smiling as you cheer for the picture. 

Kate posts the picture on her Instagram, tagging you, and captions the post ‘I’m only here for the ICEEs’.

Quickly commenting ‘and my amazing company’ under her post. Then posting the picture onto your story with hearts underneath.

It’s not until the third quarter that you both finally relent and head to the bathrooms. While standing in line chatting about nothing and everything, the archer tenses beside you and presses herself between you and the wall, “what are yo-”

Kates proceeds to shush you and shrinks further into her hiding spot. Looking around to try and see what has your roommate acting so strange, you come up short since you don’t recognize anyone.

That is until you glance over to the concession line and notice Yelena, who you met your first day back on campus. Quickly turning around to Kate, “Oh, Kate. Do you remember how I told you I met this hilarious girl my first day back?“ You point over to the blonde, “She’s right there. Her name is Yelena.”

The brunette’s face pales suddenly. Worry rushes through you and your eyes immediately start scanning for what’s upset your friend so badly. Until it clicks, “Kate…Oh, Katie,” you start to whisper, “ is Yelena who you have a crush on?”

Her eyes met yours and you can tell you’re right. “I totally know her. I can introduce you if you want. Granted, I haven’t actually spoken with her for over a month, BUT we regularly exchange memes.”

Before Kate could give any response to you, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around.

“Madelyn, I thought it was you! How have you been?” Yelena says with a big smile on her face.

“I’m great. Settling into my classes and wishing I didn’t sign up for a 7am lecture that I completely don’t understand and will need to find a tutor for, the usual. How about you?”

As the blonde opens her mouth to reply, she notices Kate, “Bishop? Madelyn and Bishop? You two know each other?” .

“Roommates,” You both say at the same time before you continue, “We’re roommates. How do you know Kate?”

“She’s my lab partner,” she leans around you and looks at the brunette, “We have a project coming up and I’ve been meaning to reach out and figure out a time that works for you,” she runs her fingers through her blonde hair nervously.

A sneaky smile goes across your face, realizing that Yelena also seems to have a crush on Kate.

The archer stands up suddenly at her crush’s words, “I have archery practice most days, but I’m free on Tuesdays after 3pm, if that works.” 

Yelena simply smiles back, “Tuesdays are great, except, I’m in class until 4. How about you come to my apartment, it’s five minutes from campus, and we can eat and start our research?”

“Off campus?”

“Yeah, my sister and her girlfriend wanted to have a secluded place away from the sorority and invited me to stay there too.”

You nod, listening to the two speak while also trying to give them privacy by looking anywhere else in the slowest moving restroom line.

Suddenly, Yelena’s phone goes off, “Speaking of the devil,” she answers.

You can’t hear whoever it is super well over the crowd cheering at what must have been the best touchdown of the game but once they quiet down you hear that voice again from trivia night, the redheaded sister of Yelena.

The blonde turns over her shoulder to look near the concession line she just came from, “I just want a coke.” You look over in the same direction as Yelena, “No, I don’t want anything else. I will be right back. I was just saying ‘hey’ to Madelyn and Bishop. Get your underwear out of a twist. I’m heading back now. Bye.”

Your heart leaps out of your chest when you finally notice the redhead in line. Making eye contact with her deep green eyes for longer than normal which causes Kate to nudge your shoulder as it’s finally your turn to walk into the restroom.

“Sorry,” you mumble to your roommate before turning back with one final look, receiving a wink from both women.

Kate gives a quick goodbye to Yelena before she walks away and then pushes you through the door.

Your roommate tries to ask you about it in the restroom, but you firmly shut down that topic and turn the conversation around on her. If you had known her crush was on Yelena, then you would have tried long ago to set them up on a blind date. Which is probably why the brunette didn't say who she was spending her days thinking about.

Making your way back to the seats, thankfully, without running into anyone else, you try to wipe the redhead’s face out of your memory, feeling incredibly embarrassed for your behavior when seeing her. 

The last quarter of the game passes in a blur that you aren’t even aware the game ended until you notice the football players celebrating on the field and groups of people moving around you to leave at the same time. You glance up to the scoreboard and see the score, 30-28, your team winning.

Pulling out your phone, you swipe to pull up Instagram and post the scoreboard to your story, ‘our blood, our sweat, your tears’.

Linking your arm with Kate to make sure neither of you get lost on the way out of the stadium, the cool fall breeze whips at your shoulders the second you make it outside, but you welcome it after squeezing against every sweaty jock trying to get out of the stadium at the same time.

The two of you quietly laugh together when you look back to see people squeezing through the doors you just came through. 

Neither of you are paying attention and accidentally bump into someone, to your dismay it was Yelena’s sister. Your body goes rigid at the sight of her. A scowl on her face until she settles her eyes on you then she gives you a soft smile.

“So, so, so sorry about that. We should have paid more attention.” The redhead’s smile slowly grows bigger as you continue talking. “Sorry again.”

You go to turn away and drag Kate along when you feel a warm hand softly wrap around your bicep, “No, I should be ashamed for not giving you more attention when you’re around,” smirking slightly at you.

A small blush rushes to your cheeks, opening and closing your mouth a few times before giving a gentle nod to the woman before turning around again.

Once you are out of hearing range from the redhead, Kate starts laughing, “Oh, you’re like a fly trapped in the spider's web.”

With a quick glare to your roommate and a prompt slap to the arm, “Shut up.”

-

As you lay on your bed, winding down your night time routine, you decide to scroll Instagram. Liking posts from your roommate and best friend, Kate’s, account. You didn’t think you would get as close to the girl as you had, but the two of you got along surprisingly well. Usually, you would be watching a new episode of Grey's Anatomy together tonight, however, Kate finally gathered her nerves and asked out Yelena, her lab partner, on a date. 

Squealing and bouncing in your tiny dorm room bed, “Shut up! You did it? You finally admitted you have a crush on her?”

“I wouldn’t go that far!” The brunette laughs in response, “I just asked if she would want to go out to the new ax-throwing bar that just opened up.” She throws herself down on her back onto your bed, frowning and sounding much more somber. “But, Madelyn, Yelena asked if we could go this Thursday. She has to go to the sorority party this Friday.”

Moving around until you're laying down shoulder to shoulder with her, “Psh. Don’t even start, you are going and maybe even getting a second date for Friday.” Wiggling your eyebrows at her and shoving your body slightly into her. 

“If that happens, then you’re coming with me. You need to get out and finally move on from your ex.” Placing your hand over your heart, you playfully scoff and wave off a mumbled agreement, trying to steer away from another possible conversation to find out who your ex is.

Smiling as you recall the memory, you suddenly hear the door to your dorm unlock. 

Kate whispers to someone in the hall, who you assume to be Yelena, “Of course, I’d love to. See you tomorrow.”

Quickly, she walks in and immediately places her back on the door to close it. A wide grin on your roommate's face as she looks over to your bed. First kicking off her shoes, then running to jump into your bed. You stare at her, waiting for her to begin.

Kate sighs before exclaiming, “SHE ASKED ME OUT TO THE SORORITY PARTY TOMORROW!” Wrapping your arms around your friend as you jump together over the great news.”Get ready, Madelyn, you and I are going to a party!”

“Wait, Kate,” You pull back to look at her wide eyed, “I thought you were kidding.”

-

The party started at least an hour ago, but because of your indecisiveness on what to wear, which ended up just being a simple v cut blue dress with white high tops. As you both walk up, you stare at the brick house bursting with music. You hear Kate talking, “Party Rules 101. Don’t forget not to go upstairs with anyone. Do not accept a drink from anyone who is not me. I know you will want to leave early, so do not go without telling or texting that you’re heading out either. Okay?”

You blink a few times before you recognize she wants a reply, “Got it.” She smiles at you and takes your hands before walking up the porch steps.

Kate knocks on the white door. You wonder how anyone would be able to hear the knock inside with how loud the music is playing, but not even five seconds later the door is open. The sound of the music makes you take a step back. Anxiety washing over you instantly as you look down. You don’t even hear the words spoken between your friend and the redhead opening the door. 

Kate’s hold on your hand tightens in hopes to reassure you before she pulls you along to step inside. It isn’t until Kate’s other hand waves to get your attention off the floor that you look up and realize both girls are staring at you expectedly. “I’m sorry, what?” you say softly.

The redhead chuckles and repeats herself, “Hi, I’m Wanda and the Vice President here. We have two bathrooms downstairs, one by the kitchen and one by the laundry room. Also, two upstairs just in case. Drinks, of course, are in the kitchen or the backyard. Is there anyone you are looking for that I can direct you towards? Or anything I can get you to drink?”

“I’m looking for Yelena actually. Do you know where she is?” Kate quickly replies. “She’s in the living room playing beer pong,” Wanda points over to her left, “Go right through there and you will find her.”

With lightning speed, Kate drops your hand and rushes off to find the blonde. Your mouth hangs open as you stare off in the direction she flew. 

The redhead laughs as she looks at you before offering her arm, “Can I escort you anywhere?” Glancing around the foyer, you can't recognize anyone, so you nervously agree and link your arm with hers, “I don’t think I know anyone else here, so anywhere you want to go is fine with me.”

A bright smile spreads on the Vice President's face as she guides you out of the foyer and into the backyard to watch someone attempt a keg stand. You can’t help but look stunned as you watch the girl drink. “Would you like to try?” Wanda startles you with the question. Shaking your head no with absolute certainty that you could never have arm strength or lung capacity. 

After a few moments more of watching, she slowly guides you over to the pool. The redhead kicks off her shoes and motions for you to do the same. The two of you sit down along the edge and place your feet in the water. You start to mindlessly kick your feet along to the music that is playing throughout the speakers. “So, am I allowed to ask your name?”

Multiple memories come to mind with times the Vice President has heard your name, “I’m pretty sure you know my name.”

Wanda’s tongue drags underneath the bottom of her teeth, “Oh, I do, but I want to hear it from your pretty, little mouth.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her words, taking a moment to settle your racing heart, you slowly speak, “Madelyn.”

Deciding to try and control the conversation you cut her off before she could say anything else. “Do you usually take interest in random people that show up to your sorority’s parties?”

She chuckles at your question, “No, not usually. But I would not say you’re a random person. Plus I have never had the pleasure of someone as captivating as you walk through those doors.”

“Yeah, right.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the redhead. 

She grabs your chin and makes you look up at her, “Oh I didn’t take you for the bratty type.” You could have sworn that her eyes sparkled when she said that. 

You shutter, trying to think of a reply. Your brain is completely lagging at the touch and sound of her voice. Wanda’s thumb moves and pushes between your lips, “Is there anything even going through that little head of yours?”

A small groan rips it way out your throat and your eyelids droop slightly. The redhead pushes down slightly onto your tongue.

Mumbling around her thumb, “Yes.” 

The Vice President’s smirks at your reply, “Yes,” She mocks you, “Yes, to what?”

You shift your eyes back to her as you take in the specific color of her eyes, a sparkling green, this time a soft moan comes out of your lips, “Please..”

You think Wanda must take pity on you because suddenly she drops her hand from your mouth. Everything about her seems to return back to when you first walked in the house. She’s back to being sweet and polite, it makes your head spin. “What brings you to the party tonight, Madelyn? Well besides escorting Bishop, of course.”

This was a question you didn’t know how to answer. Why were you here in the backyard of your ex’s sorority spending time with her Vice President? Glancing around the backyard, noticing that you still don't know anyone here, you sigh, “Honestly, I’m not sure. Kate said I needed to come if she got a second date because, apparently, I need to move on.”

“And do you want to?” She looks at you expectantly, “Move on, that is.”

“I don’t even know what I would have to move on from. It’s been months since we broke up. And she didn’t care about me long before that anyways.” You let out a dry laugh, “I don’t even think she liked me. She just liked sex with me.”

The look on the redhead’s face makes you stop your ranting, “Sorry, that is not proper party conversation,” you force out a laugh, “way too depressing.”

She smiles, dragging her eyes down your torso and onto your legs then pulling them back up before landing her eyes back on your face. “How would you like to find something to drink?” 

Thankful for her change in conversation, you smile slightly, “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The two of you make your way through the house and into the kitchen, “What will it be? Beer? Vodka?” walking around the kitchen as you listen to her talk. “... Or maybe a juice box?” 

Whipping your head around, you glare at the Vice President, scoffing, “I’m not a child. I can drink alcohol.”

Right after you speak, you hear someone laughing from the archway. “Oh, Wands, what a delightful surprise,” she steps further into the small kitchen, “Tell me you were able to get us this cute little thing to play.”

This makes you snap your head quickly around again. A rush of arousal runs through you when your eyes lock onto the redhead, “And who the hell are you?”

The cheshire smile on her face makes it clear she remembers you, she moves towards you before gently lifting up your hand as she bows her head to place a soft kiss on it, “To you, Madam President.” 

“What the fuck.” You snatch your hand away and look towards the sparkling green eyed woman before returning your gaze in front of you.

“Oh, what a dirty mouth, I will have to clean that out.” The redhead smirks at you. Another wave of arousal hits you, gulping as you maintain eye contact, “Like you’d get the chance.”

Wanda speaks up, breaking the growing tension in the room, “Darling, wouldn’t she just be…” walking up and placing a finger under your chin, her voice dropping, “...divine?” 

You shutter at her words. Eyes bouncing between the two redheads suddenly much closer to you than before. Realizing they have successfully surrounded you, your arousal spiking but you choose to mask with slight panic. “So what is this then? Two spiders trapping someone in their web and then going in for the kill?” Puffing out your chest slightly, trying to gain back some more control. “You think the President and Vice President would require consent.”

Wanda chuckles in your ear behind you, “Oh dear, we do.” Bringing her finger up to brush some hair behind your ear before speaking softly, “We only accept enthusiastic consent. Absolute begging.”

Your knees wobble slightly at her words. “A little archer told us that you needed to move on, and typically we wouldn’t do rebound sex, but you…” The President takes a sharp inhale through her teeth, “You are too special to pass up.”

“So what do you say, baby, want to be ours for the night?” Wanda whispers.

A million thoughts race through your mind. Most importantly, the fact you’ve never had a threesome or sex with people you don’t really know. You look around the kitchen and notice how nobody else even acknowledges the two redheads circling you like prey. 

“I say,” You gulp, mustering all the fake confidence you can find. “I say show me a good time first and we will see.”

The two women share a sinister smile before they each drape an arm around you and walk you out of the kitchen and into a room that only stores a pool table and some chairs. 

“We have the next game.” The President says to the small group finishing up their game before walking you over to the side of the room. She lowers her hands to your hips and lifts you with ease onto the barstool behind you.

Shock fills your face at her actions before you glare at her, “Excuse you. I am perfectly capable of sitting in a seat by myself.”

The redhead simply smiles at you before moving to stand next to the side of your chair, absentmindedly running fingers through your hair. 

“Hello? Earth to you. Usually, when someone speaks to you it's polite to respond.” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. She gently turns your head to look at her. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m sorry, baby. I won’t do it again.”

“Madelyn, I have a name and it’s not baby.” You scoff, “What is your name anyways?”

She winks at you before smirking, “I told you. To you, it’s Madam President.”

“That’s not a name. That’s a title. What’s your name?” Your eyes met the redhead locked in a standstill. You already know you won’t last long. Her eyes trap you in endless pools of deep green. They are powerful and unmoving, you huff, “What’s your name, Madam President?” 

The President lifts her hand and holds your lower lip before pulling it down and out slightly, causing you to look through your lashes to maintain eye contact, the action making you feel as if you’re losing the last shreds of your control. The redhead presses down the slightest bit more before pinching your lip and releasing it, “Natasha.” 

Wanda, who has been repeatedly running her fingers from your shoulder to the knee, leans over you slightly if only to be in your personal space, “Natty, it’s our turn now.”

You go to hop down, but yet again your hips are grabbed and you’re picked up and put down by Natasha’s hands. You give her a glare even as a blush starts covering your cheeks.

“Tsk, tsk. Don’t be like that. I would hate to have to spank that gorgeous ass for the first time surrounded by all these people.” Your blush deepens with your embarrassment at the volume the redhead spoke. The heat pooling between your legs only causes you more confusion. 

The three of you walk towards the table. Natasha moves to rack the balls and Wanda takes you over to pick out a cue stick, grabbing one for Natasha as well. 

It’s decided that you will be on your own team, which you tried to protest by saying you have never played a game of pool in your life, but your complaints fall on deaf ears. 

Wanda starts off by breaking the balls, officially starting your unfair game. She gets a solid into a pocket, “That makes you stripes, baby.” She says in a sickeningly sweet voice before getting two more solid balls into pockets. 

Standing there with your mouth open, you begin to complain, “This is so unfair. There is no way I will be able to even get close to hitting even one of these balls in!” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll help you in the first round,” Wanda says, holding up her hands. She walks over to you and shows you how to bend down and how to aim your cue stick. You lean down like she showed you but still, you feel her hand press down between your shoulders as she speaks in your ear, “Like this, darling. Eyes level with your target.”

Acutely aware this position has almost completely folded in half on the pool table, you pull back the stick and then push it forward with a decent amount of force. 

And you completely miss. 

To make matters worse, you got one of their balls closer to the pocket instead. Groaning, you stand up and look unamused at the two redheads who are both trying to hold back their smiles at your reaction, “This game is stupid.”

Natasha comes up to the table, leans down, noticeably higher than the position Wanda moved you into. She breathes in and out, then hits the cue ball, causing it to sink a solid ball into the nearby pocket. She glances up at you, smirking, while still leaning down. Causing a completely automatic eye roll. The redhead arches her eyebrow at you before moving to a new spot. She leans down, breathes in and out, and.. misses. “HA!” You cheer as your stripe ball goes into the pocket instead of the solid ball that was next it. 

You walk up to the table for your turn and glance to Wanda for her help again. Natasha subtly shakes her head, which you don’t notice since she was behind you. Wanda simply gives you a nod of her head, encouraging you to try by yourself. So you lean down and focus on which ball you’re aiming for and what pocket is your goal.

Breathing in and out a few times before pulling back your cue stick on your inhale and pushing it forward on your exhale. As the stick connects with the cue ball you feel a stinging on your ass. You immediately stand up and spin around with a glare, “Hey! That’s not fair.”

The President laughs as she looks over your head, “Well, it seemed like good luck because you got the ball in.”

Spinning around again to see if she was lying but there, clear as day, you see your stripe ball missing from the table and sitting in the pocket. “Don’t think for a second that I won't punish whiny, bratty behavior though, baby.” Natasha whispers in your ear, her front flush against your back, “Now, say thank you.”

You shiver at her words. The logical part of your brain can’t stop wondering why you should thank her for spanking you, but when you feel her hands on your hips as she pulls them closer to her own, that part of your mind goes blank. The heat between your legs grows even hotter and you let out a soft sigh before fingers hook under your chin and guide you to look up at Natasha, “Say thank you.” She softly growls. 

“Thank you.” It comes out more as a pant than actual words but the redhead is pleased enough.

The rest of the game crawls by slowly as each redhead tries to work you up with innocent touches and whispered words. Your head becomes fuzzy in the best way, but even in this state you are completely aware that every other stripe ball that’s gone in is because of Wanda and Natasha simply trying to keep the game going. 

With all solid and striped balls now off the table it’s down to whoever can sink the 8 ball in the game. 

Wanda glances at you before smirking, “What if we make a little bet out of this?”

You can’t help but let out a dry laugh, “Are you joking? This whole thing is already a game of if you two can get me into bed.” Natasha licks her lips at your words, causing your cheeks to blush even more than they were. 

The Vice President ignores your reply, “Great! So I was thinking, if we sink the 8 ball, then you give us a strip show,” you arch your eyebrow at the redhead, “and if you sink the 8 ball, then you give us a strip show.” She winks at you. 

“That’s absolutely-” You're cut off by Natasha speaking, “Deal.”

“Deal?” You shriek as the two redheads shake each other's hand, “You two cannot agree on this without me also agreeing.”

They both come up to you and place a hand on your cheek, “And do, baby?” Wanda mumbles into your ear. Right after Natasha says, smirking, “Wanna make a deal?”

Your skin flushes at their voices, your mind hanging onto their every word. You slowly close your eyes and your head falls back slightly. Wanda lowers her head to breathe along your neck, occasionally brushing her tongue against it while Natasha’s fingers tangle around your hair, pulling it back. 

A soft moan hits your ears, shocking you when you realize it came from you. Suddenly coming back to yourself, you lightly push off the women, clearing your throat to try and fake your control over yourself once again. “If I sink the 8 ball,” you take a deep breath, “then I decide the next time you touch me.”

Both redheads simply nod their heads in agreement before extending their arms to allow you space for your shot. Looking over the table and considering all the choices you quickly realize that you absolutely have no shot at winning. Ignoring every other reason besides the obvious one, you didn’t want to win.

But you wouldn’t make it apparent to the President and Vice President. 

So you lean down, “Corner pocket.” You spend a considerable amount of time figuring out your angle and practicing the strength of your hit. With one more inhale, you pull back the cue stick then exhale and strike the cue ball.

You hit the 8 ball but it stops just short of falling into the pocket. You give a shy smile to the women before stepping back. 

There’s a silent conversation going on between the redheads before Wanda nods and steps up to the table. “Corner pocket.” She winks at you before aiming at the cue ball and without any delay she strikes. The 8 ball disappearing into the corner pocket. 

Without even a second to think, your feet are suddenly lifted into the air and over Natasha’s shoulder. Wanda comes up to grab the cue stick from you and places it on the pool table.

Once you realize the redhead plans to walk out of the parlor room with you over her shoulder, you begin to protest, “Wait. Wait. I can walk. You don’t have to think I’ll back out of the bet.”

You feel a soft hand brush the back of your thigh as the sparkling green eyed woman steps into your view. 

“Oh, baby, we know, but Natty here is a very proud winner and wants to show you off,” her thin fingers smoothing down your hair. You stare at her dumbfounded as she swipes her thumb across your lower lip, “If you’re a good girl then we’ll give you an extra special reward. Can you do that for us?”

The Vice President allows you your time to process as you blink a few times before nodding your head. 

A swift smack to your ass has you gasping as Natasha corrects your action, “Words baby.”

“Yes.” Another softer smack to your ass. “Yes, I can be a good girl.”

Both redheads make a pleased humming sound before walking out of the room. You try to avoid eye contact with all the partygoers. The blush across your face and chest only grows at your slight embarrassment. 

It isn’t long until you're walking up to the stairs. Suddenly stopping right at the bottom, trying to turn your body at the sound of Kate’s voice. Mortification slams into you when she leans around the redhead holding you to look at your face. 

Her tone relentlessly teasing, “Now, I thought I told you not to go upstairs with anyone,” the memory of her words at your arrival pulled to the front of your mind.

Rolling your eyes at your roommate only caused her to laugh further at your predicament. 

Yelena speaking prompts the brunette to move back into the circle of conversation with her and the redheads, “Don’t kill the poor girl. It would severely ruin my chances with Bishop.”

Natasha laughs at her sister’s comment, “Please, the only thing she’ll get is mind altering pleasure,” pinching your ass when finishing the sentence. “Now, I’d love to chat, but I have a bet to cash in on.”

Wanda leading the way up the stairs, pausing as Kate speaks, looking up at your roommate, “She has a study group tomorrow morning at 10am! She can’t miss it!”

The redheads laugh, continuing up the stairs, the President turns slightly as she walks and salutes to the brunette, “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Less than fifteen steps later, you’re carried into a large room. Your heart stopping completely at the sound of the door closing and locking. As if noticing the slight pure panic, Wanda stands by the door twisting the handle, “It locks from inside, so if you twist the handle, then it’s automatically unlocked,” then she relocks the door.

Nodding your head in thanks and understanding of her words, she gives you a reassuring smile in return.

Then, Natasha lightly throws you onto the bed, a grunt leaving your lips, leaning over you, she smirks. Wanda comes up to sit beside your head and gently rubs your forehead with her thumbs.

The deep green eyed woman locks her eyes with yours before placing a soft kiss on your chest, then throwing herself to the empty side of you. 

“Now, don’t keep us waiting,” you turn your head to see sparkling green eyes looking at you.

They wait a few seconds before both women have another silent conversation. Suddenly, you startle the redheads by standing up.

Standing with your hands on your hips, stilling your voice and shifting on your feet, “Well, this will be rather awkward to do in silence.”

The President smirks at you before pulling out her phone and playing ‘Supermassive Black Hole by Muse!’ from her speaker. 

Slowly you begin to sway your hips and drag your fingers across your chest. Kicking your shoes off as sexually as you can. You let the song play for about twenty seconds before you lean down and run your nails up your legs stopping where your thighs meet your center. 

Turning around, you hook one finger under your right strap and pull it down, staring directly into sparkling green eyes. Then, turning your head to face the other direction and repeat the action, but slower, as you look into the deep green eyes.

Your dress only stays up from pushing out your chest. You continue to dance around until you slowly sit down onto your knees. Rolling onto the ground, your head closer to the women,  arching your back as you begin to spread apart your knees. Never looking away from the redheads as your knees hit the floor. Watching as both women tighten their grips on the bed sheets. 

Straightening your legs and bringing them back together, slowly using all your core strength to sit up rather than using your hands. You turn around and crawl over to the bed, standing before placing one foot on the President’s thigh.

She brings her hand up to gently hold onto your calf before digging her nails in. Biting your lip at the minimal pain before moving your hands across your chest, breathlessly Natasha speaks, “God, don’t be that much of a tease. Let Daddy see.”

Grabbing her hands, you bring them up to your chest, she squeezes before pulling down your dress exposing your breasts, strangely thanking yourself for foregoing a bra tonight.

The cool air in the room feeling amazing on your burning skin.

Lowering your foot, you walk over to the Vice President and bend how she showed you earlier during your game of pool. A loud hum of approval leaving her mouth.

Keeping your position, you gather the material at the hem of your dress and pull it over your head. Leaving Wanda staring directly at your covered center. Her finger gently travels up the inside of your thighs, never reaching the apex.

Noticing the dark patch on your light gray underwear, she speaks mockingly, “Do you want Mommy and Daddy to take care of that for you?”

A small moan slips out as you feel two different fingers suddenly press against the dark spot. 

“Words, baby,” both women huskily say at the same time.

“Please, please,” you’re all but moaning.

A smack on your ass that you can tell was from Wanda by the feeling of rings soothing the sting, “Be specific, baby.”

You breathe in and out a few times before roughly swallowing, “Please, take care of me.”

The redheads, losing their lack of control, slowly decide that your answer was good enough for now, for the first time.

Natasha walks around to face you, her hands find your shoulders and makes you stand up. Wanda moves further back on the bed, removing her shirt and bra before leaning against the pillows.

Grabbing onto the President’s face, you stand on your tip toes and connect your lips to hers. She eagerly begins kissing you back, nipping at your lip. Moving her hands to your ass, smacking your ass lightly, so you’ll jump into her arms.

Continuing to kiss you as she walks to the side of the bed and places you down. Ending your kiss, a low whine comes from you. Sealing your lips quickly but both women have already heard you and have lust flashing through their eyes. 

“Now, go ahead and make Mommy feel good while Daddy makes you feel good.” Nodding your head at the redhead’s directions, you turn around and crawl up the bed and between Wanda’s spread legs. She holds up her hands and guides your lips to her nipple.

Natasha begins to massage your ass and tease your slit over your underwear, soaking them further by the second. 

Sucking and pulling on the Vice President’s left nipple, bringing your right hand up to roll her right nipple between your fingers. You continue this while feeling the unending teasing around your clit.

Popping off Wanda’s left nipple, you drag your tongue across her chest until you can wrap your lips around the right nipple, twirling your tongue around the nub.

On the first suck, you feel a rush of cool air hit your center as your underwear is pulled down your legs, moaning loudly at the sensation. Without even a second to spare you feel the redhead’s tongue lick up the wetness on your lips before softly pushing her tongue inside your entrance.

Your jaw slacks at the feeling, your head falls away from the needy nipples in front of you. The redhead pulls you back against her nipple, “That’s a good girl. You’re giving Mommy so much pleasure,” holding you close to feel every sound come from your lips, moans of her own filling the room.

Natasha licks her way up to your clit. Giving soft licks before wrapping her lips around your clit, humming, then pulling softly on the bundle of nerves.

Your knees start shaking at the pleasure, causing you to fall further onto Wanda. 

“Oh, fuck,” you mumble around the nipple.

Bringing her fingers up to your clit, rubbing circles, “Come on, baby. You're such a good girl for us.”

Her fingers slowly push into you, curling slightly against your velvet walls. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet. Let Daddy make you cum, alright?”

A truly unholy sound fell from your lips, clenching around Natasha’s fingers, Wanda lifts your head slightly, so you could reply, “Please, make me cum.”

Lowering her mouth back to your clit as she sucks, licks, and nips all over while her fingers continue a relentless pace. Wanda brings her own finger to your nipples and begins rolling them between her fingers. “God, everything about you, baby. Everything is perfect,” pulling at the nubs blurring the line between pain and pleasure.

“Fuck,” your voice cracking at exclamation. Shaking from the stimulation, the coil in your stomach tightens more with each second.

Wanda leans her head forward next to your ear, “Come for Mommy, baby. Come all over Daddy.”

A simultaneous pinch from the Vice President's fingers on your nipples and the President's pinch on your clit has a wave of pleasure crashing over you, a scream rips from your throat as you cum all over Natasha’s face and fingers and fall on top of Wanda.

Dragging out your orgasm not stopping until she's pulled every sound from your lips does she begin to lick up all traces of your orgasm, sitting up and moving towards the other. You look up just in time to see them share a deep kiss, each moaning at the taste of you on their tongues. 

Breaking apart, deep green eyes look at you, “Do you have another one in you, baby? You came hard enough to drown me,” lust shining in her eyes.

“I’ll do whatever you want, just make me cum that hard again,” your eyes pleading. 

Smirking at you, Wanda moves you to scoot down the bed, tapping your thighs. It takes a second for you to realize where she wants you, but you quickly move to hover above her face. Natasha settles between her girlfriends thighs, removing her skirt and underwear in one pull, “Now, this will be a sight to see,” lowering her mouth immediately, sucking the redhead’s clit into her mouth the way she likes.

Biting your lip at the sight, you sit down, your eyes connecting with the deep green ones between the redhead’s thighs. Allowing the Vice President to move you where she’s most comfortable. Feeling her tongue push into your entrance has you arching your back.

Natasha’s fingers move to Wanda’s clit, rubbing at a brutal pace. Below you the redhead sucks in a sharp breath. Moving to drag her teeth along your clit. 

Your hips arch at the feeling, soft grunts passing from your lips, “Shit.”

Pulling you back against the redhead’s mouth, “Tsk, tsk, where do you think you’re going, baby girl?”

Rutting your hips against the face below you. Moans and pleas mumbling out of your mouth at the suction of your clit. Natasha sits up, keeping her fingers on Wanda’s clit, and leans towards you. Digging your nails into her shoulders, as she begins to leave soft bites along your chest before kissing up your neck. 

Inhaling sharply as her teeth sink into your pulse point, sucking harshly on the delicate skin, “Such a dirty mouth.” 

The pleasure on your clit increases, building up your orgasm quickly. Moaning as you drag your nails down the redhead’s back.

Wanda becomes sloppy underneath you, hinting at her own release coming soon. “Mommy’s getting close. Come with Mommy, baby,” Natasha mumbles against your neck, pushing you right to the edge. 

Sucking your earlobe into her mouth and biting down on your soft skin, “Seeing how you ride Mommy’s face makes me wonder how well you would ride Daddy’s dick,” her words sending both you and the woman beneath you over the edge. 

The Vice President slowly licks your cunt to clean you as the President drags her finger through her girlfriend’s release. Bringing them up to your mouth, “Be a good girl,” and pushing them between your lips. 

A sinful moan escapes both of your lips, though for different reasons. Exhaustion riding through your body allows Natasha to gently lift you off Wanda’s face and leans you against the pillows.

Your eyelids fight too close to receive a moment of rest, quickly winning over your desire to stay conscious. Both women get off the bed walking into the en-suite and cleaning themselves up quickly, returning with a towel for you.

Noticing your sleeping form, the two exchange a look before Wanda’s soft hands spread your knees and gently clean you up. 

“She’s perfect for us,” the President whispers.

“She is, but how can we convince her of that,” the Vice President whispers back.

As a plan forms in her mind, the redhead smirks, “We will just have to show her.”

Wanda throws the towel aiming for the laundry hamper, but misses, before laying down into the bed next to you. Natasha follows suit, listening to the music thrum downstairs while closing her eyes.

-

Groaning and swatting at the air when you hear the familiar sounds of a phone alarm going off.

Your messy morning hair is removed from your face, startling you into opening your eyes. Confusion flashing through you until you see two pairs so similar yet different green eyes.

“Wha-,” you begin, but are cut off.

“I would have let you sleep in more, baby, but we need to get you dressed for your study group. The last thing I need is my little sister trying to murder me for ruining her chances with the archer.” 

Blinking a few times, begging for your brain to catch up, yet all your mind can think of is, “Her name is Kate.”

The redheads smile at you, “Yes, of course, we apologize,” Wanda says sincerely.

With a pat on your thigh, Natasha sits up, “Now, I don't think you want to go to your study group in that little blue dress you were wearing last night, so you can borrow something of ours.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can just run to my dorm. I need to brush my teeth anyway, so it’s okay.” However the looks you receive fills your mind with doubt, “What time is it?”

“9:45am,” Wanda grimaces. Your jaw falls open at the realization that you will definitely not make it in time unless you go straight there. Cursing yourself for not understanding your math course better and needing to go to the study groups in the first place, with a deep breath you look up at the women, “Show me the outfit.” 

Standing in the mirror you can’t complain. It was a simple pair of medium washed jeans, though slightly too long since you are shorter than both women, they have been cuffed and paired with a loose long sleeve shirt sporting their sorority name and logo. You felt a bit like a walking advertisement. The worst part, yet best part, was the sports bra Natasha gave you to wear. 

Cringing as you put on your soiled underwear from the night before, you throw on your shoes and tie your hair into your best messy, not messy, bun. Hurrying down the stairs towards the front door. To your surprise, the redheads follow behind you. Thinking they must be the type to walk out guests, you say nothing. 

Reaching for the door handle, you're cut off by Wanda’s ring-covered hand opening the door for you, extending her arm in an ‘after you, ladies first’ motion. 

Arching an eyebrow at the action before turning to face them, “Thank you for the clothes. I’ll return them washed by the end of next week, swear,” beginning to turn back around before stopping and facing them again, whispering, “and thank you for last night too,” then rushing down the steps of the porch.

Stepping out of the doorway both women laugh before replying, “Now, that you don’t need to thank us for.” Trying to hide your blush from the redheads as you speed walk down the sorority's front lawn, checking your phone for the time, seven minutes to get there, thinking ‘I can do it’ as you break out into a run across campus. 

[hannie-dul-set]

나비 / NABI — TWO.

SYNOPSIS. in which you’re trying your damned best to willfully ignore your feelings for your friend of over twenty years, but— as always— life seems to have a different plan paved out for you.

PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment) to lovers, romance, humor, hurt/comfort but more on comfort, coming of age, slowburn, college! au, “it’s always been you” trope, pining, tons of denial, beomgyu is the only man ever, featuring a large ensemble of idols from various groups. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, rumors as a plot device, mentions of sex, a few minor injuries, hospital scare, bullying. WORD COUNT. 12k (out of 40k).

NOTE. kachow, it’s out. i’ll cut the yapping short this time HAHAHAH but please please please let me know your thoughts on this work especially if you enjoyed it!!! thank you!!!

모기 / MOGI — ONE — TWO — THREE

#2: YOU STILL DON’T LIKE HIM FOR FORCING YOU TO SWALLOW SO MUCH OF YOUR PRIDE. Upon returning to campus for the second semester, you’re smacked square in the face with a second wave of rumors. As if the ones that plagued you at the latter part of last semester weren’t enough to drive you insane.

The bigger problem with second waves is that the onslaught just becomes marginally worse. Apparently Choi Beomgyu was caught in the act hooking up with a girl at Jung Sungchan’s party. Apparently it was the same girl he was seen coming home with the previous semester. And apparently he got a black eye after hearing someone talk shit about said girl.

You’re speechless. It’s seriously beyond you how gossip snowballs into high hell like this. If the entire sphere of humanity directs their imaginations to more productive things, climate change might not be a problem anymore. Still, humanity is bound to be stupid, and expecting people to be reasonable will only lead to disappointment. You had to assure Sungchan three times that no— you did not fuck on his parents’ bed. What the hell does he think of you?

“I keep telling everyone you two weren’t having sex!” screams Minjeong in the middle of the hallway on the way to class. “I was literally right there!”

You catch some eyes pointed at your direction as you two pass through. “Yeah, maybe you should stop before people start construing it as a threesome.”

Usually, this would bother you. But after living your entire life being concerned about what other people think of you, it starts to get dull and tiresome. You’re pretty shocked to find yourself so unbothered, and you’re not getting a lot of attention anyway the moment you and Minjeong enter the lecture hall and find yourselves some seats.

That is, until Choi Beomgyu also walks into the hall, sees you, and immediately darts over.

You can literally feel the ten million eyes swooping back and forth between him and you. He stops right in front of your table, arms crossed, frowning. You look up and wish he gets on with it already. 

“You didn’t tell me you’re taking this class.”

“You didn’t either,” you snark back.

He huffs. “Touche.”

You sneer. “Get away from my view.”

“Hey, dude, wait up!”

Your attention gets ripped away from each other by the voice of Heeseung. He’s panting and jogging up to your area, Jeongin trailing behind him, then lands a hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder before he looks down and notices you.

“Oh, hey,” he greets. “No wonder he was in such a hurry.”

“Hi, Jeongin,” you greet Jeongin who still flinches whenever you look at him for a little too long. “Hello, bane of my existence.”

Heeseung lets your insult fly above his head. “Hey, friend. Heard you had fun at Sungchan’s party the other week.” Emphasis on the fun. With a wiggle of his brows. You want to bonk him with your water bottle, but your attempt at an assault gets refrained by a boisterous voice.

“Obviously, everyone had fun! It was a sick fucking party!”

You’re physically wobbled by Sungchan suddenly sliding into the seat next to yours. “It wasn’t fun when we had to help you clean up,” snides Minjeong. You notice Beomgyu eyeing your friend to your left as he reaches out an arm behind you, resting on the top of your chair.

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Sungchan pesters, then looks up, noticing the three other boys loitering in front of you. “Oh, hey, dudes,” he says. There’s a pause. Sungchan looks at Beomgyu, then you, then abruptly jerks his arm off the backrest of your seat. “Oh. Oh, shit! Sorry you can sit here—”

Sungchan flinches out of the chair next to you until Beomgyu stops him with a smile. “Why would you give me your seat?” Sungchan freezes. Then Beomgyu slides out the chair right in front of your table, a scratching noise on the tiles, and sets himself down. You hear Heeseung go ‘ooooh, drama,” before sitting next to Beomgyu, followed by Jeongin. Beomgyu tips his chair back, turns around, and then taps on the pencil case you’ve set out on your table. He bats his eyes. He gives you a cute (blegh) smile.

“Ugh.” You dig into the case and hand him an extra pen.

“Thank you,” he happily hums and turns back around.

“Whoa, did I just witness telepathy?” says Sungchan, mouth open.

“I guess when you’re in love you can just read each other’s mind—ack!” You hear a rattle. Beomgyu kicks the leg of Heeseung’s seat and the former falls dramatically to the ground. You snort. Heeseung attempts to retaliate but the arrival of your professor, Prof Ma, forces him to behave.

“Good morning, everyone.”

The minutes go by slowly. It’s syllabus week, so most of the period is spent by Professor Ma giving you an introduction to the course outline, grading system, requirements and projects, the works— of which includes two group assignments for both the mid and final term, eliciting a chorus of groans from the class. He decides to give the first project in advance for early preparation. At least he’s letting you pick your own members. Sort of. 

“Work with the people around you. No need to get up to form your groups.”

You look at Minjeong and Sungchan. Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Jeongin turn around, facing you three. You stifle a sigh. Choi Beomgyu plagues you wherever you go.

“I guess the six of us are working together!”

Sungchan’s way too enthusiastic about this. Heesung takes the project sheet from Prof Ma and returns to your circle, containing the instructions, guidelines, and topics for the project. It’s due two weeks before midterms and there will be a presentation the week after. Minjeong speaks up. “There’s three parts, so I guess we’ll work on each in pairs.”

“We’ll take the first part,” you say, almost automatically. Five pairs of eyes land on your. Four, actually, because Beomgyu is already scribbling your names next to each other on the guide sheet under the first roman numeral. 

Heeseung chortles out a giggle. “Jeongin, do you wanna work with me?”

“Wait, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Minjeong laments, shaking her head with a hand on your back. You want to eat your words. It just came out naturally since for every group or paired project throughout highschool, you and Beomgyu have always worked together since it’s convenient. Your schedules are nearly identical, your houses are next to each other— it’s just logical. You’ve never thought about it at all until Lee Heeseung’s stupid, insinuating reaction. 

Class is dismissed. A few people approach Beomgyu, asking if he has a group, and he apologizes saying that he does.

You schedule a meeting sometime next week to plan the assignment before parting ways to your respective classes, schedules, and appointments. It’s the same routine for a while— save for some instances where you catch people you don’t even know looking at you for a little too long, glancing at you from afar in between inaudible conversations, and of course, the handful of moments where they’d come up to you just to ask if you’re dating Choi Beomgyu.

Surprisingly, you haven’t blown up. Beomgyu himself has started to eye you suspiciously due to your lack of reaction, save for the polite smile and ‘no, I’m not,’ combo you’d always give as a response. Maybe you’d just stopped caring. Beomgyu says he can’t wait until you inevitably explode. Heeseung hasn’t stopped finding enjoyment in teasing the living hell out of you though.

“Your boyfriend isn’t driving you home today?” asks Heeseung with a grin that you’re starting to get sick of seeing upon leaving your last class for the day, three weeks after the start of the semester. 

Usually, Beomgyu would be found outside your classroom around this time, lugging you off to his car for another free ride home whenever it works for him. Doesn’t help the rumors at all, you know. Heeseung making comments about it each time without fail is also greatly unhelpful.

“He’s having dinner with his seniors,” you tell him, already having given up.

“Poor you.”

“I can get home by myself,” you spit, using the notebook and stack of printouts you’re carrying to smack him on the ass. He runs off to the coding club after very politely messing up your hair. “Go to hell!”

“See you tomorrow!”

He’s gone, finally. You release a sigh and realign the stack of notes in your hands, about to bring it up to your chest until someone darts by— passing beside you with a bump on your shoulder, and the papers, notebook, and copies stumble out of your arms and onto the floor. “Hey!” you snap your head back, catching only the silhouette of the individual from behind and as you kneel down to pat around for your things. It’s annoying, but you let it go. You let it go with a fruitful amount of profanities sputtering from your mouth while you restack the papers.

One piece of paper managed to fly away a bit farther away. You grunt and pull yourself off the floor. Your eyes don’t leave the sheet. You watch as it gets picked up from the ground and gets handed over to you, eyes trailing further up to meet the face of a guy you don’t really recognize.

“Oh,” you release. “Thanks a lot.”

“No problem. Some people really need to watch where they’re going.” He smiles. You nod and ready to walk past, but much to your surprise, you hear him utter your name. “That’s you, right?”

Huh. You try to get a better look of the guy’s face, trying to grasp a hint of recollection of who he could be, and if you actually know him, but nothing rings a bell. Zilch. “Yeah? How’d you know me?”

“I, uh—” The hand he once used to pick up your things disappears to the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. “I saw you at Sungchan’s party the other week. For, like, five seconds because I never got to see you again, so I asked around about you.”

You’re taken aback. Whoa. This is new. This is very new. When was the last time a guy has shown interest in you? You can’t fucking recall because that’s never ever happened before— not when there’s the false fact that you’re dating Choi Beomgyu perpetually fluttering around you despite your countless attempts to swat it away. You feel your heart jog a little quicker, the buzzing on your fingertips making your senses feel a lot duller. It’s either he doesn’t believe in the rumors, or he just doesn’t give a fuck about them.

Well. It doesn’t even matter because those rumors aren’t true.

“Ah, well I’m not really surprised. I was holed up in a room the entire time. Parties aren’t my thing,” you hum. “What’s your name again?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he laughed. “Jang Seung. First name Seung, last name Jang.”

“Oh! I don’t think I’ve met someone with a one-syllable name before.”

He smiles. “Well, I’m honored to be the first.”

It doesn’t ring a bell, really. That means Jang Seung’s name hasn’t fallen out of Choi Beomgyu’s big mouth before whenever he endlessly yaps about people you barely even know. You thank Seung one more time before heading off to class. It’s not the last time you meet him. You bump into him at the cafeteria a few days later, then the library the week after that. Somehow, you ended up exchanging numbers along the way. He’s an economics major, second-year, but you’re the same age so honorifics were dropped pretty quickly. And before you knew it— you and Seung have started texting casually on the daily.

“Hey!”

Your eyes snap up from your phone. You see Beomgyu snapping his fingers right in front of your face.

“Focus,” he glares, an impatient tap on the pile of textbooks you borrowed from the reference section for your group project. It’s been three weeks since the assignment was given out. You and Beomgyu have decided to do your initial research at Horangnabi today. “If you get distracted again, I’m confiscating your phone.”

“Sorry.” You tamp your phone face-down onto the table.

There’s a sneer on Beomgyu’s face. You raise a brow, pulling your laptop closer to you. He scoffs and starts flipping through the pages of one of the books, and at that moment Julie walks up to your table with a tray in her hands. “A treat for two hard working kids,” she hums, setting two drinks down onto the table— a matcha latte for you and an iced americano for him.

You smile at her. “Thanks, seon—”

“Hard working my ass.” Beomgyu snatches your drink before you can even lift it up, sliding it down to his side of the table with a very disappointed look on his face. “Noona, she’s been glued to her phone the entire time instead of working. I don’t think she deserves a free drink.”

“Leave me alone,” you simmer back. “This is my first shot at romance ever since you’ve started unintentionally sabotaging my love life for the past twenty years.”

“Twenty years? Are you saying you’ve been boy crazy since we were toddlers?”

“Don’t twist my words, fuckface.”

“Nyenye, don’t twist my word—”

Clap!

“Okay,” Julie interrupts, a resounding sound coming from her colliding palms. You and Beomgyu shut your mouths and cock your heads at her. “Settle that problem between yourselves, alrighty? Beomgyu, give her her drink back. Ring me up if you want any snacks.”

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue, sliding your latte back to you. “What was that guy’s name again?”

You catch the plastic cup with your hands and bring the straw to your lips. “Jang Seung.”

A sound scratches out of his throat. Beomgyu takes a sip from his coffee while looking to the side. “I don’t know him.”

“I thought so,” you hum in response. “Pretty surprising considering your web of connections. He doesn’t seem to believe in all the gossip surrounding us, either.”

He shakes the drink in his hand, ice clicking against themselves with a sour look on his face. Is he actually drinking lemonade or some shit? you stifle a light laugh. “Either he doesn’t believe it, or he just doesn’t mind fucking around with a girl who’s in a relationship.”

“But we’re not,” you say.

“Yeah. Duh. But everyone else thinks we are,” he answers. “You don’t even know him that well. Who’s to say he doesn’t believe them just because he’s trying to get close to you.”

Julie comes by again with a plate of salted fries. You two thank her. The perks of being friends with the staff here. “Stop overreacting,” you tell him, helping yourself to a few bites. “I haven’t completely gotten over my trauma with Lim Jimin yet so I’m not raising my hopes too high up. Watch Seung ask me for tips on how to become friends with you in three days time.”

“Just shut up and start working,” he grunts, shoving even more fries into your mouth to stop you from talking any further. You muffle out a swear. Seriously, why can’t this guy be normal?

Anyhow, you finish your session at the cafe, still pretty confident about your conjecture on Jang Seung’s real intentions with you.

But after three weeks instead of three days, you’re delightfully proven wrong.

“Holy shit.”

You, Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Minjeong are in the living room of your apartment. The four of you had been working on your project until thirty minutes ago. You’ve been working since one in the afternoon. It’s almost eight in the evening right now and Jeongin and Sungchan had already left early. Now you’re all just withering on the floor. Minjeong’s laying down on your lap, phone hovering above her face. Heeseung and Beomgyu had picked up a guitar from his apartment to fill the tired silence.

That is until they heard your very eloquent remark. Beomgyu stops strumming. “What?” he asks.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, gaping at your phone. “Seung just asked me out on a date.”

Minjeong jerks off of your lap with a shriek. “What?!”

“Look!”

You shove your phone into her face. The bluelight blinds her eyes but they remain wide and frantically open. Heeseung’s eyes flit over from you, to Beomgyu, then back to you. “Wow, I’d never ask someone out over the phone. Right, Beom?” He gets ignored because Minjeong lets out another squeal and tosses your phone aside.

“Tomorrow! You’re going on a date tomorrow!” she jumps at you. “Do you need help getting ready?”

“Hey,” Beomgyu sets his guitar down on the floor, looking at you. “Did you two forget? We still have to finalize our presentation tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say, retrieving your phone from the ground. “I’m gonna schedule the date after that.” 

Minjeong tells him to unknot his undies and let you live a little, messing with the documents scattered all around you, and you join her after shooting Seung a reply, [sounds good. see you tomorrow 🙂]. Heeseung has taken ownership of the guitar and is now strumming some melodies. Beomgyu is still grumpy. His grumpiness culminates into the question— “How much do you actually like the guy?”

This catches Heeseung and Minjeong’s attention. Their ears perk up, waiting for your response. “Well.” You take your nose out of a reference sheet. “He’s fun to talk to. And he doesn’t look half bad. Other than that, I don’t think I have any strong feelings for him, you know. But that could change. I don’t know.”

Minjeong hums in response. “Yeah, don’t overthink it. Just go have fun, girl. It’s not a big deal,” she says, the last part particularly directed to Beomgyu, who just sticks his tongue out at her.

“That’s the plan,” you say, leaning back against the couch seat. “I’ve never gone on a date before because everyone thinks I’m already dating you.” That was also directed to Beomgyu. He makes a complaint that he’s being ganged up on. A few more back and forths go down with Heeseung plucking arpeggios as background music. It’s a mess.

“Turn on your location, alright?”

“Yes.”

“And don’t go with him if he wants to take you to his place or anywhere that isn’t public.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And make sure to call whenever—”

“Dude, you’re not her mom,” Minjeong cuts him off. You snort. “She can take care of herself.”

“She’s never been on a date before! Can’t I be worried?!” Beomgyu interjects, offended. “What if she dies? What if she trips on the stairs on the way and dies before she can even experience her first date?”

“Fuck you, as if you’ve been on a date before,” you retort.

Beomgyu lets out a huff, mouth twitching from incredulity. “For your information, I have,” he says proudly. “Keep up, dipshit."

“You? As if.”

“I can attest to that,” Heeseung jumps in. “But it was way before I found out you two were friends though. We went on a double date with some girls from tourism. The girl swore he was her soulmate after a cup of coffee and Beomgyu ghosted her.”

This is the first time you’re hearing about this. You’re feeling betrayed and Beomgyu’s arrogance suddenly shifts to guilt. “Don’t give me that look. We weren’t on speaking terms then. Don’t you dare get upset over this.”

“Soulmate, huh?” Minjeong muses. “Do you guys believe in soulmates?”

There’s a pause. “That came from fucking nowhere,” Beomgyu says. 

“If they exist, then I hope mine hurries the hell up,” says Heeseung. Right. He got dumped by the girl from computer science a while ago. He says he’s already healed but just yesterday he borrowed your phone just to see her Instagram stories that are now hidden from him. You pity him. “Fuck, I need to start dating again.”

“No, you don’t. You need to fucking get over her,” you tell him before shifting your attention to Minjeong. “I’ve never really thought about the idea of soulmates. I don’t know, it just seems like a far-fetched idea to me.”

“Boring,” provokes Beomgyu from across the coffee table. “You really don’t think there’s someone out there destined for you? Someone who understands you without even trying, someone who connects with you so deeply and in one click, you just know it’s going to be them for eternity?”

There’s a palpable silence. Beomgyu notices this. He clears his throat and picks up the printout in front of him, fumbling through the pages with a click of his tongue.

“No wonder you’re still single. There’s not one romance bone in your body.”

Minjeong stares at him. “That was...out of character.”

“This guy’s actually a hopeless romantic,” Heeseung slides in. “You should hear all the songs he plays and sings in the clubroom. Dude thinks he’s in a coming of age—”

“Hey, why don’t you shut the fuck up?”

A fight(?) on the couch ensues. It’s Beomgyu and Heeseung wrestling like toddlers while you and Minjeong start working on your project again. Waiting for your laptop to start up, your eyes catch a buzzing phone on the table, sitting right next to a coffee mug. It’s not your phone. The caller ID says Ugly Oaf. “Beomgyu,” you call out. “Your brother is calling.”

You hear a yelp from a couch. “Can you answer?” Beomgyu says, grunting. “I’m kind of— ow! I’m kind of busy here.”

Children. They’re both children. You tap on the phone and put the device to your ears. “Hyung,” you greet. Yes, you call his brother hyung. You’ve known their family since you were a child and since you kept hearing Choi Beomgyu call his brother hyung as a toddler, you thought that was the appropriate term to call him too. He doesn’t mind. Anything else sounds awkward too so you’ve just kept calling him that until now. “Oh, yes he’s here. Give me a sec. Choi Beomgyu!”

Your eyes flit up to the couch. Your friend is being suffocated by Heeseung while he yells out surrenders.

“Beomgyu, he wants you on the phone.”

“Ugh. Hey, get the fuck off me.”

“Another win for the Heemeister!”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes at him as he trudges off the couch, walking over to you with an outstretched hand, and you pass the phone to him. “Hyung,” he starts, his free hand on his hip. You stifle a snort and busy yourself with a word document, half-listening to their conversation. “What do you want? Why couldn’t you just text—”

He cuts himself off and you stop typing. You look up to see Beomgyu standing near you, eyes wide and staring into space. 

His other hand falls to his side. 

“What?”

There’s a crack and a strain in his voice.

��H—hyung, what are you saying?”

You shut your laptop and race to your feet. “Beomgyu” you say, marching up to him. “Beomgyu, what did your brother tell you?” You notice his hands are shaking— trembling fingers drop his phone face-up on the ground and you see that the call has ended. Your gaze travels back to Beomgyu. His eyes are damp. You pull him closer by the arm and fix your hands on the sides of his shoulders. “Beomgyu, what’s wrong?”

“M—my mom,” he stammers out. “He—he says she’s in the hospital, why would she be in the hospital, why—”

From the corner of your eyes, you can see Heeseung jolting straight up and Minjeong looking up at the both of you. You bite down your lip. You can hear your heart inside your ears. “Beomgyu,” you say, trying to quell the tremor in your voice. His breathing is already short, his eyes are blinking down rapidly to chase away the stinging tears. You can’t start panicking too. “Did hyung say anything else? What happened? Can you tell me?”

“I—I don’t know, I’m not— I’m not sure, I—”

Oh no. Oh no, this isn’t good. You leave for a moment, rushing to your room to grab two jackets— one you drape over Beomgyu, the other you wear for yourself to stuff your wallet and  keys into. “Hey, guys,” you say, securing the coat around his neck. “Sorry, I think we need to cut this session short. Do you mind cleaning up here?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll take care of it,” answers Heeseung.

“Give us an update, okay?” adds Minjeong. You give them a nod and a smile.

You grab onto Beomgyu’s sleeve and start dragging him out of your building, the cold, late evening air hitting your cheeks as you rush out into the sidewalk, just in time for a taxi to show up from the far end of the road, and you hold your arm out to hail it. You knock on the window and the driver rolls it down. “Sir, do you think you can take us to Daegu?”

“Daegu? This late?” he says. You press your lips together. You turn your head and see Beomgyu’s expression. You let go of your drip from his sleeve, dropping it down to give his hand a squeeze.

“It’s an emergency.”

“All right. It’s not gonna be cheap, though.”

“That’s alright. Thank you!”

The entire ride to Daegu, Beomgyu is squeezing your hand. He hasn’t said a word. Red lights from the streets burn into the side of his face. Then white. Then it’s dark again. “It’s gonna be fine,” you tell him. He just holds you even tighter. You feel like shit. You can’t even call his brother or his parents or yours because your phones were left behind at your place, and it’s too late to go back for them now.

You arrive at Daegu by eleven o’clock. The moment the cab pulls up at the district hospital, Beomgyu rushes out and runs inside. You pay the fare, thank the driver before catching up to him. The scent of citrus and bleach hits your senses. He’s stuck at the front desk, asking for his mother’s room. “Fourth floor. Ward 23,” says the receptionist. Beomgyu wastes no time in sprinting into a still-open elevator before it could close, tugging you along with him.

He’s antsy all throughout the ride. The moment you land on the fourth floor, he rushes out immediately upon the opening of the doors. You apologize to people he shoved past through, squeezing your way out to see Beomgyu’s back racing down the hallway, single mindedly running to the end of it where you see his dad pushing his mother on a wheelchair, about to enter one of the wards.

“Mom!” Beomgyu yells out. You break into a light jog and head into the same direction.

It’s been a while since you’ve last seen his parents. A million thoughts bombard your head. You yourself are pretty shocked to see his mother in a wheelchair— you can’t imagine what’s going on inside his head as you witness his eyes shake, lips quiver when his steps slow down, walking up to them.

“Oh, dear,” his mom says with an exhale, sounding stressed for some reason. His dad turns the wheelchair to face the hallway instead of the door. “Why are you here?!”

Beomgyu knits his brows. “Hyung told me you were hospitalized! Why wouldn’t I be here?!”

His mom lets out a sigh. She massages her temples. “This is why I told him not to tell you.”

“Mom is fine, son,” his dead assures. “She just fell a little.”

This isn’t received well by Beomgyu. “She’s in a wheelchair!” he exclaims.

And right then, his mom stands up. She gets off the wheelchair, a tired look on her face. Oh. Oh, wow. Beomgyu was about to add something, but his mouth is now left hanging open. There’s a moment of silence, until his mom decides to break it. “I just wanted to try it out,” she says. “Honey, I’m fine.”

The tension quickly fizzles out. Beomgyu is still aghast and confused and conflicted. His dad ushers you all into the ward, in which Beomgyu forces his mother to rest in the bed instead of going out and about before things finally get explained. His mom was prepping for dinner, and she fell from a chair while reaching for something far up in the cabinet. They just went to the hospital to get a check-up just in case. Luckily, nothing is broken, but the doctor recommended for her to be admitted overnight for further observation. 

His dad called his brother to explain why Choi Beomgyu was freaking out so much too. Apparently hyung said the same things but just made the unfortunate choice by prefacing it with, “mom is in the hospital,” causing Beomgyu’s ears to go out of order upon hearing that. 

Beomgyu is still frowning. He’s sitting petulantly beside the hospital bed. “Oh, my sweet baby bear,” his mom says. “I thought you were all grown up. Turns out you’re still a child.”

“I was scared! Hyung should’ve explained better!”

“You didn’t give him the chance,” she sighs. Then, her eyes flit up, seeing you.”Hi, sweetheart. How have you been? I’m sorry for the late greeting. This kid is such a handful.”

You smile at her. “It’s good to see you’re all right, auntie.”

“Do your parents know that you’re here?” she asks. You tell her no, because you left your phones back home in the rush to get here, and she gives Beomgyu a side eye because of that. He simply grumbles and continues twiddling with the blanket. “Use my phone. It’s on the side table. You should give them a call now.”

Beomgyu passes the phone to you. It unlocks without a passcode. “Thanks, auntie.”

She smiles. “Oh, and can you ask your parents if Beomgyu can stay at your place for the night?”

“What?” he starts. “What do you mean? I’m staying here.”

“Your dad’s already staying with me. I’m afraid I’d suffocate with the both of you hovering around me.”

“Why are you trying to kick me out?”

You give them some privacy to talk (read: bicker). It’s already late in the night, so the hallway is quiet but brightly illuminated. The phone rings in your ears as you out into the dark, blanketed sky through the window. There’s a click and you hear your dad at the end of the line. 

The conversation lasts for a while, and you find that you’ve somehow found yourself in the open courtyard behind the hospital building after you’ve finished explaining everything to your dad and catching up for a bit. He’s gonna pick you two up in a few minutes. You let yourself simmer in the cold air for a few more moments before getting back inside.

Minjeong asked you to update them earlier, but you can’t because you don’t have your phone. They’ve probably found out that you left it behind already, but that’s not the problem. Seung must’ve texted you about the date plans already and you’re unintentionally ignoring him right now. But, oh well. You’ll reply tomorrow when you get back to Seoul.

“Auntie, thanks for lending me your phone. Dad said yes. He’s gonna arrive in a—”

You pause. Upon returning to his mom’s corner in the ward, you see Beomgyu fast asleep on the same spot he was in earlier. His head is resting on the bed, eyes fluttered shut while holding his mom’s hand. The lights have dimmed. You see auntie smiling at him. “He’s really still a child.”

“The shock really hit him,” you say, quietly setting the phone back on the table. “He was crying a lot on the way here.”

She hums, then looks up at you. “Can you help me pry him off?”

You laugh. Waking up Beomgyu is always a task. You get near and start shaking him. “Hey. Hey, dip— I mean, Beomgyu. Wake up.” You hear him let out a groan and he nuzzles himself further into the blanket. You get an idea. “Choi Beomgyu, do you remember the time you started a pretty fun lightshow in your kitch—”

“I’m up, I’m up,” he groans, still groggy. He does sit up, but he’s very much still trying to start up his brain. His joints are creaking. He holds onto your arm to help him stand up, brows knitted together as he rubs his eyes. 

“We’ll get going now, auntie. Get well soon.”

She smiles at you. “Thank you for alway taking care of him.”

You feel a swell of warmth in your chest. You nod, mirroring her smile before hauling a sleepy Beomgyu out the ward. The moment you’re out into the hallway, the urge to smack his face awake nearly overtakes you, but you decide against it. Instead, you wring your arms together, lugging him into the elevator so he doesn’t trip over his own feet. 

During the elevator ride, you feel him pile all of his weight onto you, his cheek resting on the side-top of your head. From the reflection, you can see that his eyes are barely open, slowly closing and barely opening again. You breathe out a laugh. The elevator opens. You walk out into the lobby and out the hospital, where you see your dad waiting by the driveway.

It’s a quick drive home. It would be nice to stop by the playground, but the guy you’re with in the backseat right now is pretty much out of commission. Poor boy must’ve been exhausted from the scare.

Beomgyu finally wakes up a bit more upon reaching the building. He mumbles a thank you to your dad, and your dad simply smiles and gives him a pat on the back while ushering him up the stairs. There’s already an extra change of sleeping clothes on the living room table. Your dad tells you to take care of him before disappearing off into his room. 

“Go take a shower, stinky,” you tell him. He grunts and snatches the clothes from you anyway. While he’s in the bathroom, you set up the sofa bed in the living room for him to sleep on, pushing the coffee table away, grabbing some extra pillows and blankets from your room, knees sinking into the mattress as you pat down the sheets. You hear the bathroom door creak open. “Hey, I couldn’t find any other extra blankets except for these Ninja Turtle ones, so I hope you don’t mind—”

The words fizzle out from your throat upon seeing Beomgyu walk into the living area. His hair is still damp, clothes a little too big for him, and his eyes are evidently puffy. You shake your head, a light laugh escaping your lips. What a crybaby, but then again, if you heard the same news— the news that your mother got hospitalized out of the blue, with no discernable explanation, you’re not confident enough to say that you won’t react the same way as he did.

You’d also probably start bawling. And you’re pretty sure Beomgyu would do the same things you’d done tonight too.

He’s still standing there, right in the middle of the open mouth of the short hallway that he’d just emerged from. You let the blanket fall to the floor to stretch out your arms. “Come here,” you say. Footsteps pad down the wooden floor. Beomgyu sinks himself into you, cold skin fresh from the shower melting into the warmth of yours as you fall back into the mattress with a thud. 

You two stay like this for a while, the sound of quiet nights lingering in the air. “Your mom will be fine,” you tell him, drawing circles on his back.

“Mhm,” he mumbles into your hair.

“You’re such a crybaby.” He responds with an annoyed grunt, but his hold on your remains firm. “This is the second time I’ve seen you cry.”

“Shut up,” he rasps, finally pulling away just enough for you to see his face, settling into the spot next to you instead. You roll over to look at him. His left arm is wedged in between your elbow and torso, the other gently holding onto your forearm as his damp hair hovers over his eyes. You have your hands pressed to your chest, feeling each thump on your knuckles for each second your eyes linger on his face. Two thumps. Three. Since when did you get this close? 

Your throat is dry, but you can’t swallow. Your eyes flit down. “Hey,” he says. You can feel his breath on your lips. “Thanks.”

The world stops for a moment.

You offer him a smile before pulling yourself up. The air returns to your lungs. You toss a pillow at him before getting back on your feet. “Get some sleep, crybaby. We gotta be up early for class tomorrow.”

That’s when you finally retreat to your old bedroom to get a maximum of four hours of sleep. You’re pretty sure you weren’t even able to get a single hour in because the next thing you know, the sunrise is already leaking into your bedroom, prompting you to get up and retrieve from the drying your clothes from last night. You make a quick egg and bacon breakfast before heading out, leaving some for your parents, and you two stop by the hospital once more before finally leaving for Seoul at seven-thirty.

“Doesn’t this remind you of high school?” Beomgyu muses while you two hang on to your dear lives standing in the bus commute to the station. 

“Yeah. I don’t ever wanna go back.”

He laughs at that. You smile. He’s finally feeling like himself again. The trip back to Seoul takes ages and you two have no time to go back to your apartment, so you decide to head straight to campus instead to make it to your first class.

That was a mistake though. The moment you and he walk into the lecture hall— together— Jung Sungchan makes the astute observation that you two are wearing the same clothes from yesterday. Heeseung knows what happened. He was fucking there, but starts teasing you about it anyway. It’s like he thrives off of your despair. 

You tell them to shut the fuck up and take your seat, borrowing a pen from Minjeong who asks you about what happened. In your defense, Beomgyu obviously didn’t bring his key to their Daegu house, and you brought all of your nicer clothes here in Seoul. So unless you wanted to wear your atrocious high school fashion sense to uni, you had no choice but to rewear your outfit from yesterday. And, by the way, you washed them! They were in the dryer overnight!

That doesn’t matter to the people around you though. Because it’s almost standard protocol that whatever’s going on with Choi Beomgyu spreads like wildfire within campus grounds. Funny enough, this isn’t the first groundless gossip that you and him are fucking. But you’re less angry this time and just more of just being simply tired of this kind of shit.

You don’t know how well Beomgyu is taking it though. Normally, you can read his face like an open book, but this time you’re not quite sure.

At the end of your class, you quickly rushed off to your apartment while Beomgyu left to attend another class. “Can you bring me my phone when you get back?” he asked you before leaving. 

“Sure. We still have to finalize our presentation this afternoon, right?”

“Yeah. See you later.”

The moment you arrive at your apartment, you immediately check your messages. The last text Seung sent you was at 11:37 p.m. [anyway, just tell me if you change your mind haha. no worries]. Ah, shit. You quickly type down an explanation for what happened last night, and that no, you’re not trying to call the date off while you wiggle into a new set of clothes. You leave again quickly after snatching Beomgyu’s phone from the counter. When you get back to campus again, the tick mark next to your text tells you that Seung has read your message. But he hasn’t replied.

Minjeong tells you that maybe he’s just busy. The afternoon rolls around and you’re walking with her and Sungchan to Horangnabi, and Seung still hasn’t replied, but you set that problem aside for now. Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Jeongin are already there by the time you three arrive. You toss Beomgyu his phone and take one of the available seats across from him.

“Prof Ma says only two people need to present,” you say. “Heeseung, can you do it?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Choi Beomgyu, you present too,” says Minjeong. “Use your people pleasing powers for something productive this time.”

He whines, but agrees anyway. While working on the PPT, you notice that he keeps glancing at you. You raise a brow. He says nothing and busies himself with something else, until 5:00 p.m. rolls around— an hour before your supposed date with Seung.

You haven’t told Beomgyu about probably getting ghosted yet because you don’t want him to fucking gloat and snark saying, ha! I told you he was bad news! Instead, you part ways from the group, make a stop back home to get dressed into prettier clothes and retouch your makeup, and shoot one last text to Seung before heading to the restaurant you two had agreed to have dinner at.

“Welcome!”

The sound of a mental clock is ticking inside your head. It’s thirty minutes past six. You’ve already ordered and eaten a meal, and Jang Seung is still nowhere in sight.

This whole situation feels like a shitty sense of deja vu. Your thoughts are verbalized when you see someone walk up to your table just when you’re about to leave. Of course. Who else would show up at your lowest if not Choi Beomgyu? “Wow,” he remarks, taking the liberty to drag the chair in front of you back, and he plops right down. “Deja vu much. Why do you always go on dates with shitty men? Are you cursed or something?”

“Shut up. Maybe you’re the harbinger of my bad luck actually,” you say. “I think he caught whiff of the rumors that we slept together last night. Gosh. Don’t people have anything better to talk about?”

There’s a look on his face. You can’t quite pinpoint what it means. Beomgyu lets out a scoff, tipping back and forth the empty glass on your table with a sneer. “If he was a decent enough person, he wouldn’t flake out on you just because of that,” he says, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “He’d ask you outright if the rumors were true instead of ghosting you like a douchebag.”

You laugh. “That’s true.”

He points his gaze at you. “You’re not sad?”

“No. I’m just a little miffed,” you say. Really. Surprisingly, you don’t feel like shit at all. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Mhm. I was having dinner with some friends, but I got a text from Sungchan that you got stood up again.”

Again. Ouch. No fucking wonder Sungchan messaged you earlier asking where you were. “I cleared up my schedule tonight,” you tell him, getting ready to get up. “Let’s hit the arcade. I need to release some stress.” Your anger gets received by the innocent moles on the whack machine. At least you got something in return— two cheap and shitty keychains, wherein one you end up hooking on the zipper of your bag later that night, the other one you give to Beomgyu as a thank you for yet again, swooping in to save the time you would’ve wasted, had you waited any longer for another failed date.

The only good thing that happens that week is that your group project went really well. Honestly, you had zero hopes from the beginning considering Choi Beomgyu, Lee Heeseung, and Jung Sungchan are notorious for not taking things seriously, but somehow, they’ve managed to prove you wrong. Prof Ma gave you a handful of compliments for the analysis. That’s another dose of helium to inflate Beomgyu’s and Heeseung’s already overly inflated heads.

“Great job,” Minjeong compliments them. Then they turn to you, expecting the same.

You sigh, rolling your eyes, but there’s a smile on your face. “I guess you two were better than I expected.”

Leaving the classroom, you have to split from your group because of a paper you need to submit to the faculty office. Minjeong hugs you goodbye and Beomgyu says he’ll be waiting for you at the parking lot. You hum and turn to the opposite end of the hallway. And that’s when you suddenly hear your name get called out the moment you pass by a group of three girls. 

“Hey, you,” one of them hollers again. You spin your heels, a little confused, then point a finger to your chest. “Yeah. Come here for a sec.”

Yet again you’re hit with a distasteful sense of deja vu. Cautiously, you walk towards the group. Vaguely familiar faces. You think you’ve seen one of them before, but you’re not quite sure. They say nothing once you stop a few steps closer. The one in the middle looks you up and down. And then a laugh brushes past her lips, twitching into a bitter smile.

What the actual fuck. “I don’t get what he sees in you,” is all she says before walking away. Again, what the actual fuck.

The interaction lingers in the back of your mind until Choi Beomgyu texts you at two in the morning to join him at the nearby 90s themed diner just a few walks away from your apartment. You two share a rootbeer float with burgers and fries as a mini celebration for your successful presentation, he says. You squint at his face as he takes a bite from his burger. He mimics your squint, albeit his looks more confused and suspicious than investigative. “What?” he asks.

“We really need to do something about these rumors,” you start. Beomgyu simply lets out a sigh and sets his burger down while you tell him what happened earlier, and while you’re chattering on about your story, Beomgyu takes a single fry, dips it in the ice cream of your float, and reaches his arm out across the table to feed it to you. “Wasn’t she one of your friends? The one who—” you stop your rambling, looking down at the food offering in front of you.

Your gaze flits up. Gosh. This is why people think you’re dating.

Still, you open your mouth and let him feed you anyway. Beomgyu hums out a smile, satisfied and grabs a fry for himself. “So what do you wanna do?” he asks. “Are you gonna put some distance between us again? Ask me to act like I don’t know you.”

You kick him from underneath the table. He lets out a pained yelp.

“I know what I need to do,” you say, determined. 

Beomgyu lifts his chin up in anticipation. There’s a hint of mockery in his tone. “What do you need to do?”

“I need to get a boyfriend.”

Then he starts choking. You toss him a napkin and he calls for a server for a glass of water. You wait until he finally recovers before you continue your piece. Beomgyu glugs down the entire glass and slams it down the table. “What kind of mental gymnastics are you pulling?” he asks. “I think you need to get your head checked.”

You ignore his insult. Instead, you push forward. “You’ve got a lot of friends. Set me up with one of them.”

Beomgyu’s face is flat. “No. No way.”

“C’mon!”

“Have you gotten over Jeong Seung, or whatever, ghosting you already? How can you hop onto a new guy so quickly? You know you can’t trust men nowadays.”

You click your tongue. “We weren’t even talking for that long, and I know you won’t set me up with a bad guy! Please? Do this for me, just once, and I won’t bring up something like this ever again.”

Choi Beomgyu looks like he’s judging you to the ends of the earth, but his lack of verbal response tells you he’s actually considering it, and he’s not quite happy about it. He lets out a grumble and slides up the wrinkled receipt you have on your table. Then starts scoring unintelligible marks on it with his index nail.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask, craning your head forward.

“Listing down your candidates,” he says, and your eyes widen in pleasant surprise.

“Holy shit, I didn’t think you’d actually agree.” He grunts in response. You try your best to make out his shitty handwriting, but when you do manage to decipher one the names listed, you snatch the receipt from him and your face quickly contorts into disgust. You squint your eyes at the scribble to confirm you read it right. You are unfortunately proven correct. “Heeseung? Seriously?”

Beomgyu simply shrugs. “His compsci girl dumped him. It’s time for you to sweep him off his feet.”

“I’d rather kill myself, thank you. Have you forgotten he’s the reason why the rumors are as bad as they are?” you say, bringing the list closer to your face while your eyes quickly scan through them.  

“How about Hyunjin hyung?” he asks. Oh, yeah. He’s definitely listed here.

“I make his heart race, but not for the good reasons,” you answer, and you reach the end of his stupid fucking list. “Wait a minute. Only your club buddies are in this. All of them are less than human. How dare you?”

He lets out a huff. “Even Hanbin?” Well. Hanbin is definitely better than all of them combined, for sure. “I thought you had eyes for him.”

That completely catches you off guard that your breath stutters a little. Yeah, Sung Hanbin has definitely proven himself as boyfriend material while you worked with him at Horangnabi, but you’re pretty sure he has something going on with Julie seonbae and you have no plans on being a third-party— not matter how desperate you are to just find a quick and easy date. 

“Then, you thought wrong,” you retort. What even gave him that idea?  “Anyway, nevermind. I realized that I’d rather not outsource my future boyfriend from you because none of your recommendations are good enough.”

He snorts, taking a sip from the float. “Boyfriends are definitely outsourced, sure.”

You snatch it from him before his lips can even touch the straw. “You’re so unsupportive. I’ll ask Minjeong to set me up on a blind date instead.”

Beomgyu wonders if you can even trust Minjeong’s eye for men considering that she didn’t even guess that Jang Seung was actually a jerk. You shoot him a glare. The coming morning, you actually do end up bumping into Seung again for the first time since he ghosted you. You walk up to him for a hello— for some closure maybe, but all he does is shove past you before you can even let a syllable out. Heeseung is with you when that happens. His mouth drops in outrage, head snapping back at Seung’s direction, and he almost starts marching after him. “Hey, what the fuck—”

“Leave it be.” You grab onto Heeseung’s arm, stopping him from causing a scene. “It’s not worth it. Let’s just head to class.”

“What a douche,” he huffs out, sending Seung one last glare drilled into the back of his head before matching your pace.

Minjeong pulls through with arranging you a date with a friend of a friend of a friend. She says he’s hot. You trust her judgment because, well, third time’s the charm, right? You’re headed to a newly opened board game cafe downtown five minutes later than scheduled because if you’re gonna get stood up again, you might as well waste five minutes less of your time. A text from Beomgyu alerts you the moment you lay your hands on the door— [i can’t swoop in this time once you get ghosted again. they won’t let me leave the clubroom 😢]. Once you get ghosted. Asshole. You don’t bother replying and head inside.

Much to your surprise, your date is already there, introducing himself as Song Eunseok and you do the same. Now, he seems nice and all— and holy shit he looks like he could be an actor— but the biting feeling that you’ve heard of him before is preventing you from feeling guilty. You order a light meal. Eunseok does the same and tries to make small talk in a light mood. Eunseok. Eunseok. Where the fuck did you hear that name from again?

“Ah!” you exclaim, preemptively dropping the dice on the snakes and ladders board. “Do you know Lee Heeseung by any chance?”

He looks surprised. “Oh, I do, actually. Are you friends—”

Then it hits him. And then his face grows pale. You lean back, arms crossed, something patronizing tugging on your gums that forms your mouth into a half-smile, riddled with incredulity and offense. Go on. Explain, your face says. This was the guy Heeseung set you up with last semester and ditched you. Of course you never have one normal, decent date. You’re actually cursed.

“Uh. Wow. Haha. What a coincidence.”

Beomgyu’s soulmate talk from the other day comes to mind. You’ve smuggled a blind date with this guy twice, which has to be a weird string of fate, right? It should be romantic, but the only thing you’re feeling right now is mild annoyance and a surge of satisfaction after seeing this guy’s guilt ridden face. See, soulmates are bullcrap. Choi Beomgyu can eat shit.

“There— there was an emergency,” he sputters out. “The guys who I asked to watch my dog while I was out canceled last minute. I couldn’t just leave Charlie alone at home.”

Well. He did show you pictures of Charlie, so that amended your opinion about him a but. Just a little bit because from that revelation, the any hope of things progressing into something more was magnanimously ruined, but neither of you wanted to waste your meal, and you two were still in the middle of a 1v1 snakes and ladders competition so you went on with the date, and he walked you to the bus stop 

He was cool. Kind of. You tell Heeseing about it at Horangnabi the next day, and he falls to the floor crying and slamming his fists to the ground. “It’s not fucking funny,” you say.

“It’s so fucking funny,” he wheezes. “Holy shit. What are the odds? This is amazing.”

A chortle-snort huffs out of you beyond your control. Okay. Maybe it is a little funny. Until it’s not, because later that evening you receive a text from an acquaintance you have in one of your GE courses, a picture of you and Eunseok attached from that night, asking [hey is this you? did you break up with choi beomgyu?] 

That was when the third wave of rumors started.

And it’s arguably the worst wave yet.

“Once I find out who fucking posted this, I swear to god—”

Minjeong is stomping the ground. You’re sitting on a bench at the courtyard, face-to-face with an anonymous post on the student board. It’s a big block of text, glaring straight at you from Sungchan’s laptop screen with a heading in thick, bold letters saying Do you think some people just cheat as a hobby? You don’t know why they’re showing this to you. That is until you read the first few lines, and it hits you.

[Post: I’m not naming any names, but there was this girl I was talking to for a while. We hit it off immediately and she acted like she was super into me so I asked her out on a date after a few weeks of talking. Lmao. She said yes but didn’t reply to my texts for the rest of the night, and the next morning I find out she has a boyfriend who she’s been too busy fucking the entire night so that’s why she that’s why she wasn’t replying. Sure. Okay. Whatever. But today I got the news that she’d been cheating on him with another guy again. Guess some bitches are just born as whores. Ifykyk lol].

[Comment from Anon 1: LMAO the way I know exactly who this is referring to. you dodged a bullet, buddy. the bf’s dumb too for not dumping her yet]. [Reply from Anon 2: to think the guy has flaked out on us so many times just because of  his serial cheater girlfriend. buddy, get the fuck up. open your eyes].

[Comment from Anon 3: ain’t it weird how she’s always in and out of a clubroom full of guys? lol, must be wild in there].

[Comment from Anon 4: drop names! people need to know which freaks to avoid!]

There’s a lot more comments. Sungchan shuts his laptop before you can read any more. Minjeong is fuming from behind you. Sure, there weren’t any names, but it’s obvious who the poster is referring to. It’s obvious who posted this. But you’re not even angry. Your chest doesn’t sting, you don’t feel your head throbbing. All you’re thinking is wow— you can’t just expect everyone to mature the moment they leave high school. Some people still mentally belong to the playground.

“I’ve reported it,” says Sungchan. “Don’t think about it too much. It’s all bullshit anyway.”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you smile, getting up from the bench seat and landing a ruffle on his head. “It’s fine. Thank god I’ve grown out of my anger issues. The guy would be dead if he pulled this stunt last sem.”

Minjeong and Sungchan escort you halfway to the coding club room because you mean to check on how Beomgyu’s faring. On the way, you pass by a group of people— a few familiar faces amongst them— their eyes trained on you as you pass by. “Fucking whore,” you hear one of them gruffly whisper, followed by hushed laughs, and you and Sungchan have to stop Minjeong from throttling them. It’s like high school all over again. This is ridiculous.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Sungchan asks, a hallway away from their clubroom. You tell them it’s fine and shoo them off to head to their classes. They leave, albeit hesitantly, and you finally make your way to the room, the old gray door right in front of you.

Your hand reaches out for the handle. But you don’t twist it open. You pause, lips pressed together, deep in thought.

These guys only tease you and Choi Beomgyu just for the hell of it— you know that. You truly know that. But because of you, some anonymous fucks are talking shit about their friend online right now, and you know they’re his friends before yours. You hesitate for a moment, hand letting go of the handle, until you hear someone walk up from behind.

“Oh, sorry, I—uh, I was just—”

“You’re not coming in?”

It’s Hanbin. You blink at him. He’s still smiling at you pleasantly, like he always has. Maybe he hasn’t seen the post yet. He hums and nudges himself beside you, opening the door in your stead, and holds an arm out, ushering you in.  

You hesitate for a moment. You suck in a deep breath and charge in, expecting maybe an awkward bout of silence from your intrusion. Or the noise pollution they usually emit. But no. You don’t think you’d have ever predicted to see all of them standing in formation right in front of you— two lines, front and back with Heeseung and Jeongin at the head of the back. Beomgyu’s in there too, wedged far left at the very back. What is this? What the hell is going on?

Suddenly, Heeseung stomps his feet, four fingers pointed to his temple in a salute. This is just confusing you even further. “Atten—tion!” he hollers. The rest follow with a resounding, chest-heavy exhale, posing in the same manner.

You’re about to ask what in the world they’re up to. Until Heeseung and Jeongin suddenly break out into an oath of speech.

Nothing will ever prepare you for this moment. They’re all crazy.

“We, the honorable members of Kool Kids Koding Klub—”

“We, the honorable members of Kool Kids Koding Klub.”

You were never informed that that was their club’s name. That’s so fucking stupid. You have to hold in a burst of laughter.

“After a long moment of thoughtful reflection and inward-consideration—”

“After a long moment of thoughtful reflection and inward-consideration.”

“Do humbly realize that we have fucked up and have been abominably stupid—”

“Do humbly realize that we have fucked up and have been abominably stupid.”

“In the following ways.”

“In the following ways.”

This is stupid. This is insane. You turn to Hanbin. He just gives you a look that says, “let them finish.” You cup your mouth with a hand, cheeks protruding. Gosh, they’re a bunch of idiots.

“Number one. For making constant jokes and teasing you and our fellow member Choi Beomgyu about a relationship that we know has never existed despite your evident and consistent expression of disapproval— we are sorry.”

“We are sorry!”

Wow. So they are capable of self-reflection.

“Two. For bringing said stupid and dumb and distasteful jokes in public— which may or may not have reached the ears of susceptible bystanders who do not know the true and full truth— we are sorry.”

“We are sorry!”

How’d they memorize all this? You’re honestly impressed.

“Lastly, we—”

“—Lee Heeseung—”

“—and Yang Jeongin—”

“—duly acknowledge and take responsibility for the fact that we, unintentional or otherwise, may have inadvertently started and exacerbated these horrible rumors, which eventually caused a butterfly effect and snowballed to an extent and severity that we lacked the foresight to predict and prevent. For this, we are truly, deeply sorry.”

“We are sorry!”

They all bow in unison. Ninety degrees. It’s quiet now. Dead quiet. Your eyes scan the number of heads turned down, some bobbing ever the slightest, some dead still and frozen. “W—we…we’re done,” you hear Jeongin say. You bite down a laugh. The moment you utter a semblance of forgiveness— not even able to finish your sentence yet— Heeseung immediately springs out of formation and throws himself into you.

“Don’t worry! We’re on your side!” he declares. “We know you’d never ever cheat on Beomgyu!”

There’s a cough. You stare at him, his arms wrapped around your shoulders in silence. No one says anything. Heeseung shamefully pries himself off of you.

“Sorry. I’m not making those jokes ever again. Please don’t hate me.”

You give him a push. “Too bad. I already hate you.” Heeseung whimpers. Then you turn to the rest of the boys, all patiently waiting for you to give them the greenlight. “You guys didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t blame any of you.”

And it’s like the oxygen returns into the room and they release sighs in a chorus. Yeonjun walks up to you for a hug and tells you to cheer up. Hyunjin says that they’ve been trying to track the original poster’s and commenter’s IP addresses and connected accounts since this morning. They’re actually doing something club related for once. You’re shocked and proud.

“Thanks, but there’s really no need. I already know who posted it,” you say. Your eyes are trained to the back of the room, where Beomgyu is hovering around. He hasn’t come up to you yet. You really need to talk to him.

“Still,” Hanbin says. “It’s better to get concrete evidence. We can report them to student affairs for this, you know. This isn’t just some minor issue.”

You point your chin up, giving him a smile in response before excusing himself to corner the guy in the corner. 

He’s not going anywhere. You move in one straight direction. Heeseung and Jeongin step aside to make way for you. Old plastic bottles and tattered furniture are no obstacles to you. You march up to Choi Beomgyu. He doesn’t move, but he doesn’t look at you either until you’re already standing in front of him, shoes pointed a mere inches away from each other. He’s fidgeting with his fingers. His eyes peer up— hesitant, unsure. You can clearly see what’s troubling him. 

It’s like he’s bracing himself for you to push him away. Again. Like he’s always causing you trouble. Like he’s always been the root of all your problems.

Your throat tightens, but you swallow it down. What should you do to make it clear to him that that’s really not the case?

“I’m borrowing him for a moment.”

You don’t wait for an assent when you grab him by the arm and pull him out of the clubroom for some privacy. The hallway is full of people. You pay no mind to the dozens of eyes drilling into you as you tug Beomgyu’s jacket sleeve through the turns and corners, stairs and exits until you find yourselves at the back of the building, devoid of anybody else. You let go of him with a push. Beomgyu’s heels scrape against the ground. You cross your arms, looking at him with a huff.

“Spit it out,” you say. “What’s going on inside your head?”

His face is tense. He lifts up his hand— barely. Just barely in an attempt to reach out to yours, but a hesitant quiver forces it back down. Fuck. You really don’t like this. You don’t like this at all. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts.

“Shocker,” you respond, trying to lighten things up. 

“Shut up.” It works for a second because he shoots you an annoyed glare. Only for a second because he gets serious again, and your stomach feels heavy. Like the earth wants to swallow you whole. “Can you be honest with me? Am I giving you a hard time?”

You feel a squeeze in your lungs. You press your lips together. You force in a breath.

“I think— I think I won’t be too mad this time if you ask me to act like I don’t know you again,” he says. “It was more peaceful for you, wasn’t it? Nobody bothered you and you spent your uni life without having to hear anything painful or mean from people you don’t even know. I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I should’ve tried harder to protect you. I’m sorry.”

Beomgyu says nothing more. It gets quiet. You run the words he just said over and over again in your head wondering why the hell would he ever think that? Why would he think you’d want that? “Hey, fuckface,” you say. He flinches. “Do you remember what you said to me the day we made up?”

He stiffens. There’s no way he wouldn’t remember. There’s no way you’d ever forget.

“You said you couldn’t live without me.”

A tinge of red stains his ears. You pull on the arm he held back earlier, forcing him to finally look at you in the eye. They’re stained red too. The back of your throat burns. You don’t care. You push the words out of your mouth even if it ends up killing you.

“If you can’t live without me, what makes you think that I can live without you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen— like it’s a surprise for him to hear that. Like it’s a surprise for him to still be near you, hovering around in a circle that he thought was temporary. It’s not. That’s one thing you’re sure of. That’s one thing you can say with confidence that’s never going to change.

“You’re so stupid,” you say, roughly letting go of him. “Take back your apology. You’re uglier when you’re about to cry than when you’re actually crying.” He responds by pushing himself back into your space, and you’re taken aback when he suddenly swallows you with his arms. 

He’s squeezing you so tightly. He isn’t even giving you the wiggle room to hug him back.

“Thank fucking god,” he breathes out, voice muffled into your shoulder. 

You do what you can to pat what you can reach. Beomgyu finally releases you after fifteen, twenty seconds. His eyes still look a little irritated, but he didn’t cry. There aren’t any snot marks on your shirt. He’s such a baby.

“But, you know,” he says with a sniffle. “I’ll do whatever I can to fix this, but this is really gonna ruin your chances of getting a boyfriend.”

“Rumors stand nothing against my nightly eleven-eleven wishes.” 

He laughs a little. You smile. “You’re so fucking lame.”

The fruits of the coding club’s labor materialized two days later. You receive a text early in the morning to head to the clubroom. Jeongin welcomes you with a list of all the people who made malicious comments on the post and, of course, the poster himself— Jang Seung. No shit. That was expected. But what came as a bit more of a surprise not only to you, but to Beomgyu as well, is the fact that many of his many many many friends were on that list, their corresponding comments attached.

It doesn’t really bother you since you don’t even know them. But you can’t say the same for Choi Beomgyu.

“I didn’t see it coming either— wait! Beomgyu, where are you going?”

Beomgyu storms out of the club room, shoving off Yeonjun’s hand when the former tried stopping him— much to no avail, because he’s already gone before you know it. Some of the guys follow him out. You’re not too worried. You’re pretty sure he’s got a sound head on his shoulders. He’s never gotten into a fight since he was, like, twelve. 

But maybe you overestimated his impulse control. Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to his expression when they revealed the list, because you later find him sitting on the stairs to the entrance of your apartment building with two unmistakable, vivid, and well-formed bruises on his cheekbone and jaw.

You stop at the foot of the stone stairs. He looks up at you with a grin. “You’re home.”

Spinning. Your head is spinning. “You’re a mess,” you tell him. Beomgyu gets up and follows you into the building, into your apartment, and you sit him down on the sofa before you make a beeline for the fridge to grab a bag of frozen vegetables, wrapping it with a fresh dishcloth.

Beomgyu refuses to tell you what happened when you start icing his face. You look at him, the makeshift ice pack retracted from his bruise while you give him your most done expression you can muster. He won’t budge. You put Jeongin on the phone. The guy spills everything to the table without even needing a nudge.

“You just lost a good chunk of your friends,” you say, as a matter of fact, while tapping the cold cloth to his face.

Jeongin had just informed you that he blew up on his so called friends earlier, causing a minor, uh, altercation to break out, with one of them landing a fist to his face because Beomgyu allegedly dropped the terms pathetic and disgusting pieces of shits, as your informant quotes. Beomgyu doesn’t look bothered at all. His eyes just wander around the corners of your apartment as you tell him that his social circle just shrunk overnight.

“You think I care about that?” he says, leaning back against your couch. Your arm stretches out to chase after his face. “I really don’t give a shit. I can live without them.” But it stutters mid-air after hearing that. You clear your throat. You tell him to scoot over and make room because you can’t reach the bruise.

“This is gonna look pretty ugly tomorrow,” you remark. He says his hands got a little fucked too. You sit up, face scrunching. Indeed, his knuckles aren’t looking pretty. You grunt and fish for a first aid kit from your bathroom cabinet. When you get back to the living room, Beomgyu is sitting patiently with the vegetable pack pressed to his face.

“I’d like you to be angrier, honestly,” he says while you put some ointment on the hills of his knuckles. “This is all my fault.”

You set his hand down on your tangled legs on the couch, still barely grazing over his fingers. “I already told you, it’s not,” you sternly say. Beomgyu fiddles with your fingers. He’s not looking at you. “It’s not your fault everyone’s so far up in your business.”

“Well. That’s true.” Beomgyu simply lets out a lamenting sigh. “Why am I so perfect? It’s so hard being a wanted man.”

You roughly let go of his hand, tossing the ointment at him too. “If you’re so perfect, go fix yourself up, you fuck.”

He whines and tells you you’re a heartless meanie, picking on an injured man, and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders because he’s being annoying again. Because he’s acting like his usual self again— and to you that’s the only thing that matters right now. Even if the entire world thinks you’re a whore and a bitch and a cheater, there’s still one person who’s willing to get his face bruised and battered just to tell them they’re wrong.

That’s enough, you think. That’s more than enough.

나비 / NABI. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[tange-my-rine]

saying something stupid (like I love you) || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: With Lemon's guidance, you take the initiative and confess to Tangerine. He kept saying he felt the same, and wouldn't shut up until you did it. So, in a moment of weakness, you told him. You kind of knew what to expect: either reciprocation or rejection. Easy. But when Tangerine instead physically runs away from you, you have to admit you weren't expecting that.

TW: angsty (with a happy ending), crying, cursing (it's Tangerine), and avoidance (Tangerine is really bad at feelings, what can I say).

[[A/N: yes this is based off that one song. It's so GOODDD. And also something Tangerine would totally do. Peep the Little Women reference. Enjoy :)]]

"C'mon," Lemon urged, "-'s not 'at hard, mate."

You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly chewing the inside of your cheek, "You say that as if you've ever been in a relationship. Ever."

You had known the twins since middle school (probably), both raised with shitty parents and even shittier lives. When you saw them for the first time swindling a boy out of his money in a go-fish game, you essentially blackmailed them.

('If I don't get a share, I'm telling the teacher.')

You actually even knew their names, and them yours, but you preferred the codenames -you were the one to come up with them afterall.

Tangerine almost popped a blood vessel when you met that day, but Lemon smiled big and bright and pulled a five out of his brother’s hand. You and Lemon were fast friends after that; Tangerine took a lot more time.

That being said, when you were finally friends -near high school, he started to... fill out his form. Naturally, being close to someone who is handsome, you find yourself in... certain states of mind. And what started as a little crush your senior year, snowballed to now.

Where you were in love with him.

You probably told Lemon after a few years of it not going away. But, you'd find that every day after you'd regret that decision.

"Sally Jones," Lemon offered up, seemingly in defense of himself.

You scoffed, "The girl you dated for a month?"

He nodded his head.

"You didn't even like her," you clarified, "-you liked that she had cable so you could watch your fucking trains."

"So?"

"So-" you said a little loudly, turning to the bedroom where Tangerine slept and drastically lowering your voice at the distinct absence of shuffling, "-Lemon. We have been best friends since we were kids, that's... That's a lot to mess up because I'm... because I have feelings."

"What so-" Lemon starts, "What if he gets married one day? What are goin' to do? Just... Just fuckin' bury it down?"

"First off, he's too much of a dick to get married, secondly-" you paused, letting out a big sigh -something in your chest twisting, "-yeah. I mean, it's what I've done for all of these years, isn't it?"

He frowned for a minute, hand finding its place on your shoulder, "You ever think ya deserve to get it off your chest? 'At maybe you deserve the happiness it'll give ya?"

"Might give me," you corrected.

"Look, I know my brother," Lemon argued, brown eyes layered onto yours, "-and I know he's been fuckin' crazy about you since you stole that fuckin' five dollars on the playground."

"I didn't steal it," you clarified, a little defensively "-we made a deal. We negotiated-"

"Y/N," he refocused, "-I just wanna see the two of ya happy, yeah?"

"I know," you spoke, softer, "-I know, Lemon."

Before another word could be spoken and it really seemed like Lemon wanted to, Tangerine stepped into the living room -hair still sleep-mussed, and clothes far more casual than what he'd wear normally. Not that it was new to you, but it still made your heart flutter a little.

"You 'avin' a fuckin' pow wow without me?"

"Morning, sunshine," you smiled with a sing-songy tone.

"Fuck you," Tangerine muttered (a tiny little smile quirked onto his lips), before slinking off into the kitchen -most likely in search of coffee.

When you stayed seated, eyes flickering over whatever reality TV show was on -Lemon nearly burned a whole in your side.

'What?!' you mouthed, exasperated.

He was wordless, brown eyes darting from you to the kitchen -a few times in a row actually.

'Now?' you mouthed back.

'The sooner the fuckin' better,' Lemon mouthed back, shoving you further down the couch.

Well, you debated to yourself, it would get him off your back, and that would be nice.

But, you didn't feel so scared then -not like all the years prior. It was like something... something had shifted in you and you just wanted it done.

Shit, you thought, maybe it is time.

You took a deep breath in and with raised hands (in mock surrender), stood up.

'Fine.'

Lemon seemed taken aback a moment, shock, like he'd never actually expected you to cave; to be fair, you were a little surprised too. But... you were tired, and if heartbreak was to come of it -you wanted to get it over with now.

'But if he doesn't...' you mouthed, '-you owe me everything in your wallet.'

He neatly nodded in agreement.

You swallowed, squeezing your hands together and with the timidness of a doe, entered the kitchen.

The kitchen in the apartment was small, but modern-looking. It was all sleek metal and plain colored cabinets, looked like something out of a magazine. That being said, Tangerine fit right in.

Your eyes unwillingly went to his hair, the unkempt curls, and you briefly wondered if they felt soft.

"Hey, Tan?" you echoed out -trying to keep your voice level and calm.

He held up a finger -as if to say 'one moment', before fidgeting with his coffee. He took it basically black so it didn't take him too long to do so. Just a dash of both sugar and milk, he spun around to look at you.

You supposed you hadn't thought about the idea that he had to be looking at you while you said it. His eyes were always so... bright and distracting -you could hardly handle it when he looked at you so intensely on a regular day. How could you do that today? Right now?

You cleared your throat, wringing your hands together, "I, um, I need to tell you something."

Tangerine pursed his lips, looking you over -leaning slightly on the counter with his cup in his hand. His eyes dashed over yours with a curious sort of question there -scanning over you like he was trying to figure out just what it was.

"Ya alright, love?"

You blinked, trying to clear your head, and opening your mouth to respond. In what way, you weren't sure but any at all sounded good-

"Get fuckin' on with it, mate," Lemon yelled out from the living room -apparently hearing everything in here he could.

Tangerine was just looking at you -blue eyes just looking.

Something in you snapped.

"Jesus Christ, fine, Lemon," you hissed in frustration -words coming out before you could stop them, "-Tangerine, I'm in love with you."

Tangerine froze.

You weren't even sure he was breathing.

"Tangerine," you stepped forward, concerned, "-are you okay?"

Before you could so much as touch him though, he, without a word, beelined out of the kitchen. So fast you were left reeling in his dust, blinking a little deliriously.

You instantly spun around your heels and rushed to the living room -just in time to see Tangerine swipe the keys (the car keys) off of the little table near the door and promptly leave the apartment.

The sound of the door slamming shut echoed into your mind -like a pin dropping into silence.

Something swirling up into your chest, you swallowed -something heavy on your tongue and even heavier on your heart. You blankly stared at the door, like if you wished hard enough he'd come back and tell you he loved you. That all of it had just been a gut reaction.

After a few minutes, that did not happen.

"Lemon...?" You croaked out, eyes suddenly blurry and heart pounding in your chest -had you really just ruined it all?

"Lemon-" you let out a breath and it somehow turned into a sob. It felt like your chest had been cracked open and your heart crushed to dust.

God, you'd lost him. You fucking lost your best friend because you decided to be stupid and fall in love with him-

You don't know when you fell to the floor, crying, but you do remember Lemon rushing over to you -brown eyes guilty and somewhat confused.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He kept repeating it, over and over, but all you could see in your head was Tangerine frozen and all you could feel was a loss. You were grieving him, there was no way anything could go back to normal-

You'd have to get separate jobs, live on your own-

"I'm not leavin' you," Lemon said suddenly, and you realized you must've been muttering, "-My brother can shove 'at idea up his arse."

Without another breath, you pushed yourself into his arms -wrapped around him into a hug.

"Liked you much better anyway," he muttered, and there was a laugh that burst through your chest.

You and Lemon ended up staying at that apartment for about three more days, waiting to see if Tangerine would return. All of his clothes were here, and you weren't entirely sure he even had his wallet in his pajamas -but he didn't show back up.

Not that he hadn't been in contact, Lemon had been both answering and not answering phone calls from him almost by the hour. He always ran to another room to answer them though, and you respected the privacy -it's not like you wanted to hear from Tangerine anyway.

Even though he was your friend and you were worried, you knew it best not to talk to him.

"You're a fuckin' idiot, mate," Lemon hissed out -bitter and disapproving, "-none of it makes any fuckin' sense, I swear you were-"

There was silence for a minute, you assumed Tangerine interrupted him.

"Are you really fuckin' serious with me right now?" Came back with a much harsher sentiment and the tone of it chilled you to the bone -Lemon was mad.

Which you'd really only seen once or twice, in grade school, either when someone picked on you and you cried (both boys reacted similarly to that) or when someone, unprompted, hurt Tangerine.

You were suddenly flashed back to your senior prom when a guy had asked you but it had all turned out to be some joke. 'He's fuckin' stupid not to like you, love,' rang through your head -familiar blue eyes and arm wrapped solidly around you pulled you into his side, '-doesn't deserve you anyway.'

There was a bitter taste in your mouth.

Lemon pulled you out of your thoughts, "What were 'ey supposed to think, mate? That you were so joyous you couldn't stay fuckin' still?!"

You rubbed your hands up and down your arms, mindlessly packing your bag. The next piece made you stutter to a stop. Hands lingering on a long-sleeved button-up, one you'd borrowed from Tangerine and he'd never asked for back, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest.

No more crying, you thought.

With not a word, you took the fabric in your hands, leaving your room, and shoving it into Tangerine's bag.

You did stay in the room for a moment, breathing in the... Tangerine of it all.

And then, you left.

"No, no, mate," Lemon laughed, incredulously, "-I'm not doin' shit for you. You come 'ere and do damage control yourself."

You pulled your bag up on your shoulder, it was just a little duffle -you didn't carry much job to job, and trailed into the living room.

Lemon immediately straightened, cutting off Tangerine, "I've got to go, brother. I think you know 'at to do."

With the precise press of a finger, he hung up.

Letting out a big sigh, Lemon turned to you, "Let me get 'is stuff, and then we'll leave, yeah?"

And you did.

You're not sure what the last call was about, but after that one, he started calling you too.

Lemon had decided to cool off on the jobs, just visiting a few cities out of want -kind of treating it like a tourist. It was weird, but not unwelcome. One of those nights, it started.

You were eating on the couch, some sort of reality TV show distracting you with Lemon -when your phone vibrated on the coffee table. You unhesitatingly went to pick it up, eyes smoothing across the name-

'Tan 🍊'.

Staring at it for a moment in disbelief, you quickly declined and set your phone back on the coffee table.

He didn't call you again until late that night when Lemon was asleep in his room; you weren't asleep, to be fair, just staring up at the ceiling.

The name flickered across your screen, and with a little hesitation, you answered.

"What the hell do you want, Tan?"

He was silent for a minute, slow to respond -speaking a little in disbelief, "Hey, love."

"Tangerine, don't-" you started, something breaking in your voice -you cleared your throat, "-That's not fair."

"Love-"

"You're being mean," you echoed out, tone a little broken and weepy -it was all you could say.

He was silent for a long while then, almost exhausted, "I'm sorry."

"It feels like," and you could feel the tears bubbling up, "-it feels like when that stupid guy ditched me at prom," your voice got much quieter -a little pathetic but you didn’t care, "-but you're not here, Tan."

'I want you here,' went unsaid.

"I'm sorry," he repeated -but this time a little more dim.

"Don't you think I deserve to hear that in person?" You offered -swallowed back a sob, you were crying by now, just silent tears down your cheeks, "Don't you have any respect for me-"

"I never meant to-"

"Save it," you interrupted -tired and exhausted, "-I need to sleep."

Before he could say another word, you hung up.

And if you cried yourself to sleep that night, that was between you and the apartment walls.

He didn't stop after that night, calling you more than Lemon -he still answered. You didn't. You had nothing to say to him, until he decided to apologize, in person. Or even just come back at all. He couldn't run forever. No matter how much he didn't want to reject you, you needed to hear it.

Couldn't he understand that?

Because every day he didn't, there was a traitorous little part of you that held onto the hope that maybe he had just been overwhelmed. Maybe he just wasn't ready.

And that hurt more than anything else. That he wouldn't come to tell you otherwise, when you already knew it.

There were a few times he'd call you, and Lemon would call him back: 'Just leave 'em alone, mate.' And then, he'd disappear off into a room -ready to talk about whatever they did.

And then, about a month after the start of it all, you heard a knock on the door.

It was a normal day, where you and Lemon ate takeout and watched whatever show was on -which was often shitty. He didn't talk about Tangerine, so the conversations were more lighthearted -made you feel better.

But when you heard the door, you froze.

Lemon seemed to be looking for your reaction, brown eyes darting all over your face. And for a moment, you were relieved that he was okay but then your face settled into something strained.

You told him you loved him and he ran away. You didn't think it could get much worse than rejection, but it did.

Lemon took the look as a sign to gently rub your shoulder, comforting, before standing up and heading to the door.

Deciding to focus on the TV and eat, you did so. You only flinched when he swung open the door, and in quiet whispers, you heard his voice again. It felt like your whole world was crumbling, you thought you were ready for this -the rejection. But you still loved him so much-

You blinked away tears, determined not to let him see you cry. You wouldn't accept pity, not from him.

You knew his footfall, knew exactly where he stopped behind the couch and you even felt his hand come to clutch it right by your head. You ignored him.

"Y/N," he started and his voice seemed a little wrecked.

Not knowing entirely why (or maybe knowing exactly), you turned to meet him.

Tangerine was disheveled, hair messy like he'd been running his hand through it for days -which you knew he did when he was nervous, and his new suit messy. He did look a little like he'd been in a bar fight, and won. You also knew he did that when he needed some stress relief.

Was that why he was here? For refuge?

"I-"

You abruptly stood up, food falling from your lap, and somehow safely onto the couch, "I'm too tired for this."

Tangerine looked at you for a moment, and you thought it was a little desperate but you smushed the idea without hesitation.

This time, you were the one to run away from him.

You found immediate solace in your room, slinking against the door and breathing so quickly -your eyes fogged up. Needing something to do, you decided to unpack your bag.

Unwillingly, you heard a mutter of voices, and even Lemon's footfall as he disappeared into his room. Tangerine took a bit longer, but when you heard the door shut, you let out a long sigh of relief. Not tonight.

Before you could finish with your clothes though, you heard his steps again -slow and hesitant. You thought for a second that maybe he was leaving again, and something in your stomach twisted.

Instead, though, all you hear was them booming closer. You stilled.

You had the off thought to run over and lock it, but it was too late then. The door opened slowly like he wasn't sure if you were asleep. And you chastised yourself for not thinking of that.

When he opened it all the way, his eyes landed squarely on you. You waited for him to say something, anything, so you could shut him down and go to bed.

Instead, he simply extended his hand forward.

Your eyes darted to it, his hand clutching a shirt -the shirt you had shoved back into his bag. How did he even know it was different?

"Take it," he spoke, voice quiet.

"Tangerine," you countered, swallowing back the heaviness in your voice, "-that's yours."

"'S not," he explained, "-I fuckin' gave it to you."

"You let me borrow it," you clarified, tone wavering slightly, "-I'm just returning it."

"You didn't fuckin' borrow it-"

"Tangerine."

"Take the fuckin' shirt, love," he reiterated, "'s not mine anymore."

"Tangerine," you sighed out, "-can you not? It's late, and I'm tired-"

"It's your shirt," he interrupted, something in his eyes but you couldn't quite label it, "-take it, and I'll fuckin' leave you alone, yeah?"

"I'm not-" you exhaled, closing your eyes for a moment -trying to bat away the tears, the frustration, "-Tangerine, I don't want it."

"Well, I want you to fuckin' have it."

"Do you think about what I want?" you echoed, "-Ever?"

Tangerine opened his mouth, but you were on a roll now.

"I..." you laughed incredulously, looking up to stop your tears (you blinked them away), "-Tangerine, it's been a month."

He tried again, but you didn't let him.

"You. You left," you sniffled slightly, clearing your throat -prolonging the inevitable, "-Tangerine, I... I told you that I loved you and you ran away."

"Love," he started, small and barely there.

"Stop-" you swallowed, "-Don't call me that, it's not... it's not fair."

"How is it not fair?"

"You don't-" you groaned, swiping at your eyes -you were crying now, and out of the corner of your eye you saw his hand twitch (like he wanted to comfort you).

He stood in silence waiting, patient.

"Tangerine, why didn't you just tell me then?" You asked the question that bounced around your mind ever since he left.

"Fuckin' tell you what, love?"

You flinched, ever-so-slightly, at the name again -something twisting in your stomach, and squeezed your eyes shut. Breathing a big breath in through your nose, you started.

"That you don't love me," you clarified, and now your voice was shaking and your eyes were blurry, "You could've-"

Tangerine seemed to be processing something, a flicker in his eyes.

"You could've made it so much easier if you'd just-" you frustratingly wiped your eyes again, "-said that. But instead, you ran away, and all I could think about was what I had done wrong for you to-"

"You didn't do anythin' wrong."

"Then why didn't you just tell me the truth?" You practically begged, "-Why don't you tell me now? So I don't have to... So, I know."

"That's not..."

"Tangerine," he looked at you -and you but back a sob, "-I deserve the truth. Just say it. I know you're scared you'll hurt me, but I... I've survived worse."

"What makes ya think it'll hurt you?" He offered, and your heart in your chest started beating loudly -ringing in your ears.

"Because you ran away," you repeat, wiping at your eyes again, "-I think that makes the answer pretty clear."

"Y/N-"

"Just fucking reject me!" you exclaimed, not loud enough to bother neighbors but enough to bounce around the room (Lemon probably woke up to it), "-It's not that hard, Tan, you've practically done it before."

He seemed to flinch at that, grimace even, at the mention of what he'd done. You were glad he felt some kind of guilt. Still, he remained quiet.

"For the love of god, Tangerine-" you echoed out, shaky now and your heart on the floor -vulnerable, "-just say it. It's not that hard."

"I fuckin' can't," he finally answered -something bubbling up in his tone; his hands clenched by his sides -shirt still clutched between his fingers.

"Can't," you questioned, voice shaky and tears building in your eyes, "-or won't?"

"Can't," he reiterated.

"This is ridiculous, Tangerine," you whimpered -swallowing back a sob, "-you can't give me fucking peace?"

"Y/N-"

"Give me a reason," you interrupted, brash, "-give me the reason you can't reject me right here right now."

"It's not 'at fuckin' simple, love," he remarked, low in tone, but you could tell he was getting frustrated.

"Nothing ever is!" you reasoned, "-Just tell me, that's all I want."

"It's not..."

"Tangerine, please."

He swallowed, eyes dipping to yours -scanning over you with your no doubt red eyes and shaky hands. Like he was thinking, deciding on what to say. All you could see was reluctance.

He let out a big long sigh, fidgeting with his hands (and the shirt in the mix).

"Tangerine-"

"'S not how I feel."

You furrowed your brows, "What?"

"I can't..." he trailed off, eyes off you and flickering toward the ground, "-I can't reject you because it's not what I feel, love."

Your breathing halted in your chest. Heart twisting into something so complex, sad and angry and hopeful.

There's no way, he- Why the hell did he run away?

"That's not funny, Tangerine."

"It's not a fuckin' joke," he responded, eyes finally back on yours -and you tried to read them all you could.

"Stop, no," you echoed out, shaking your head, "-don't pity me, just tell me the truth-"

"I am," he reiterated.

"No you're not," you laughed incredulously, "-it makes no sense."

He pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose, "I was scared."

"That's not-" you started, before clearing your throat, "Do you not think I was scared? That I wasn't putting everything on the line to say that? I thought I was going to lose you and then I did-"

"You didn't lose me," he spoke, softer, "-you could never lose me, love."

"I did, Tan," you sniffled, "-I lost you."

"No-"

"Tangerine," you echoed, "-you left. And I thought, I thought that my best friend was gone. I thought that because I had stupid feelings I lost you. You ran away, Tan!"

"They aren't stupid," he responded and it seemed that he was deciding on whether to step closer -you took a preemptive step back.

"At least," you sighed out, voice cracking, "-at least you knew the truth, I... I didn't know shit. You could have never come back-"

"I did," he interrupted, "-I did come back, love. And I know I'm fuckin' stupid, Lemon has been drillin' it in my head for weeks. I regret walkin' out of 'at fuckin' room so much."

His eyes were shiny with tears now, as he stepped forward into your room -hands reaching forward like he'd wanted to touch you, but he stopped.

"How the hell am I supposed to believe you? What if you just-" you sniffled, "-run away again?"

"I won't," he spoke -unwavering, "-I swear on whatever fuckin' god is up there, 'at I won't do it again."

"I don't-" you whispered out, clutched at your arms.

"I never meant to hurt you, love," he echoed out, stepping closer, "-I fuckin' hate myself for doin' it. I will never fuckin' do it again."

"Tangerine, this isn't-"

"I'm fuckin' madly in love with you," he finished, laughing a little -slowly placing his hands on your arms. You didn't move away, and he seemed to smile at that, "-'ave been since we were kids, and you pulled 'at greedy shit on me."

"It wasn't greedy," you defended.

"Most certainly fuckin' was," he tsked back, moving one hand to your face -thumb wiping back and forth.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, but there was still something heavy in your stomach. Tossing like waves.

"I'm sorry," he said, finally, "-I got fuckin' scared and ran away. It wasn't fair to you, and-" his hand brushed against your cheek, "-I'd beat myself bloody senseless if I could."

You laughed at that for a moment, and his smile got a little wider.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, something clawing up your throat again.

He frowned, allowing his hand to fall to his side -sighing, "I'm a fuckin' coward, love."

You opened your mouth to say something, anything.

"You confessed to me and it was so fuckin' brave," he looked at you like you were the sun then, bright and warm, "-and I... I couldn't spit out a fuckin' word. I just went into autopilot and..."

"Ran away," you finished, swallowing.

"Yeah," he spoke, confirming, "-ran away."

Before you could hold your tongue, words slipped out, "That is pretty cowardly."

Tangerine laughed, a big one, and something in you warmed -a smile perking onto your lips.

"It is," he agreed, "-I'll give you fuckin' 'at."

And then he paused, eye flitting over you -seeming to detail all your features in his head. Tracing over your nose, your eyes, your eyebrows, your lips-

"Are we okay, love?"

It was soft and hopeful, and something in you softened -your hurt letting up just a smidge. It wasn't gone, not yet.

"Yeah, we're good," you hummed out, taking a hand and pushing a strand of hair behind his ear, "-but you have a lot to fix."

"I know," he hummed back, blue eyes soft and affectionate, "-I'll do it. Whatever you fuckin' want."

"Well," you smiled, so close to his face -merely a breath away, "-I think I've got my first idea."

"Do you?" He offered with a smirk, hands coming to hold the sides of your face.

"Yeah," you brought your hands up on top of his, "-kiss me, please."

Tangerine didn't hesitate after that, pulling you closer with the grasp of his hands -still somehow gentle. His mustache tickled your upper lip, and you laughed a little -a grin spreading along his own lips in response. And after, it was slow, languid, each press of the lips just a touch more desperate -like you were his oxygen. Fingers pressed into your skin, your head went a little fuzzy -fingers twisting around his palms.

Speaking of oxygen, you parted.

Before you could so much as say a word though, Tangerine pressed a small one to your lips -simple. You laughed a little.

And then again, and again, and again, and again-

"Tangerine-" you laughed out, "-I can't breathe."

"Fuckin' fine," he muttered, before taking a deep breath of his own.

And then the thought crossed your mind that he would leave eventually -go back to his room. Sleep. But, you had lost so much time. You didn't want him to leave yet.

"Tan?"

"Yeah, love?" He gave you all his attention, eyes focused on you.

You pursed your lips for a moment, "Will you sleep in here with me?"

Tangerine opened his mouth.

"I don't want you to leave yet," you clarified, hand loosely twisting around one of his own -held limply between the two of you.

"I don't want to leave either," he breathed out, "-ever, preferably."

You smiled, "Is that a yes then?"

"Oh," he laughed, "-love, 'at's much more than a yes."

[lenacosse]

I was thinking of a one shot where James asks out reader and they think it's a joke so they like walk away or tell him to fuck off or smtn and James is just so confused so the next day asks r wtf that was about and she's like "if ur gonna be a dick you shouldn't expect other ppl to just take it" or something and he's still confused and asks her what was happening so she explains what she thinks is going on and he like comforts her and tells her that he fr likes her. Feel free to ignore if it's not smtn ur interested in writing ofc

Lost in translation

pairing; james potter x reader

cw; strong language

word count; 1,330

════════════════

You link your arm with your friend Katie’s as you walk up the slippery path together, it was a weekend, Sunday to be exact which meant students went to Hogsmeade. The cold February air was crisp and cut right through you, you were thankful for your heavy scarf and thick coat which granted you only a fraction of heat.

“If I slip one more time I’m going to cry,” Katie laughed gripping tighter to your arm.

“If you bring me down with you I will die on the spot,” you rolled your eyes.

You glanced at each other and fell into a mutual laughter, Katie had been your best friend from the second you stepped foot on the train. You two usually kept to yourselves but this school year brought a lot more social opportunities for you two to mix with your year group. Being in fifth year meant you partied together and formed larger groups, in fact you were on your way currently to meet up with a group of Ravenclaw girls in the three broomsticks. As you made your way up the hill you spotted a group of boys, however you paid no mind and continued walking. That was until a snowball hit the back of your head.

“What the fuck?!” You shouted as you turned around, to your left stood the infamous marauders.

Sirius was clearly the one who threw the snowball considering the other three boys avoided your eye, Remus in fact smacked Sirius’ arm. You were about to turn away when you heard Sirius shout your name.

“Oi (Y/L/N)!” He motioned for you to come over, you furrowed your brows and looked at Katie who shrugged. “James wants to talk to you!”

You pulled an even more baffled expression as you spoke to Katie. “Is he joking?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Go see what he wants, I’ll go inside to the girls come in when he’s done.”

“Katie-” you started but before you could finish she was already gone.

Begrudgingly you made your way over to the boys. “Well?” You looked at James who gave you a bashful grin in response.

The other three boys stepped away to give you two a moment they however were within distance to see and hear the conversation. James looked back to Sirius who just nodded, seemingly encouraging him. You were confused to say the least, you had only had a few conversations with James previously, however that didn’t stop you from feeling nervous around him.

“Um, hi.” James said.

“Hi?” You wearily replied, “can I help you?”

“Yes, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you for awhile now.” James smiled, at this point you assumed he was going to ask you about the charms homework due tomorrow. A part of you also lit up looking at him, you would never admit your deep crush on him even though it was painfully obvious considering all the lingering gazes you direct at him, even if you denied it to Katie every time she brought it up. But besides, everyone knew James had a thing for Lily.

“Which is?” You tilt you head to the side.

“I was wondering if you,” he paused almost hesitating, “wanted to go out with me?”

Your eyes widened as you stared blankly at him, for a moment you misheard him. You let out an awkward laugh as you looked behind him to his friends, your face however hardened as you saw Sirius behind him, clearly laughing.

“Seriously? God you’re such a wanker!” You fume, you turn to walk away.

“What?!” James called after you, you turned back around and crossed your arms.

“Fuck off James.”

You walked away quickly desperately trying to save yourself from further embarrassment. Obviously it was a joke, why would James Potter want to go out with you? You were just mad that for a split second you fell for it, you could only imagine how funny they thought it was. You were convinced by tomorrow you’d be the laughing stock of your year group.

You took a deep breath before walking into the three broomsticks to see your friends, you tried to swallow the lump in your throat as Katie waved you over, you sat beside her and smiled at everyone.

“Well?” Your friend Lucy asked, “Katie told us James wanted to speak with you. What’d he want?”

“Oh, um he just played a joke on me.” You awkwardly laughed, trying to lighten the heaviness of your voice.

“Are you okay?” Katie asked, her voice was low so only you could hear. You nodded with a smile.

The rest of the day you were in your head, you were more annoyed than upset, and extremely embarrassed.

════════════════

The next morning you walked into the great hall with Katie for breakfast, you’d almost completely forgotten about your interaction with James and the other boys until you caught his eye. You sighed and looked away, furiously glaring into your breakfast.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Katie asked, mouthful of toast.

“Nothing.” You took a sip of your tea. “I’m just still embarrassed from yesterday.”

“What did actually happen? You barely answered Lucy’s question.”

You sighed and set down your tea, you looked at Katie as you spoke. “James asked me out, but it was totally a joke.”

“What?!” She practically shouted, your face flushed red as you felt the eyes of half the crowd staring over at you both. “What a dickhead.” Katie scoffed, she turned around and glared at James who furrowed his brows at her. She turned back around shaking her head.

“It’s no big deal really.” You reassured her, just as you finished your tea the bell went off indicating breakfast was over and it was time to go to class.

You and Katie spilt ways, you were in charms and she was in potions. As you adjusted your bag on your shoulder you heard a voice beside you.

“Hi.”

You looked up to see James, you rolled your eyes and picked up your pace walking away from you. Eager to talk he followed after you. “Wait.”

You turned around and followed him to stand against the wall, you crossed your arms and stared at him. “Well?” You asked.

“I’m so confused, why are you so annoyed at me?”

“Seriously?” You scoffed. “If you’re going to treat people like shit and be a dick don’t expect me to stand there and take it.”

“What are you talking about?” James had a genuine look of confusion plastered over his face.

“Yesterday, you embarrassed me James. You thought it was okay to ask me out as a joke in front of all your stupid friends. It’s not, it hurt my feelings.”

“What? It wasn’t a joke.”

“James..”

“No. I’m being serious. I genuinely like you and thought you liked me too, you always stare at me.”

You face flushed with embarrassment at his words, you looked awkwardly at the floor. “Thought you liked Lily?” You looked back up, sheepishly.

“I used to. But I like you,”

“So you really do actually want to go out with me? No joke, Sirius isn’t going to pop out with a snowball?”

James laughed and shook his head, his laugh made your cheeks warm up. “No joke. And I’m sorry you thought that I was joking, I was nervous and Sirius was laughing at me- not you.”

“Okay,” you smiled, you bit your lip to try and control it. “Then it’s a yes, I’ll go out with you.”

“Okay, great.” James returned the smile, you stared at each other for a few seconds before you let out a giggle.

“I think we’re late for charms.”

“Oh, let’s go then.”

You two walked together to charms, James put his arm around your shoulders and on the inside you were screaming. It was a weird concept that he liked you too, but the thought of it made your jaw ache and stomach fly.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

DAY FIVE: Eddie Munson x fem!reader 18+

“That’s way too steep.”

Behind you, the boy snorted. “Nah, c’mon, babe. S’fine.”

You’d spent the entire afternoon throwing yourself down hillsides with Eddie and the rest of his friends, watching the kids with wide eyes as they went down head first, sliding on trash can lids and stolen cafeteria trays. And when each of their noses got too red, too cold, fingers frostbitten and numb, they’d stumbled home one by one until it was only you and Eddie left.

He’d monopolised the only good sledge from the get go, throwing snowballs at anyone who tried to wrestle him for it. He didn’t need to try too hard to get you on it with him, looking far too handsome with pink cheeks and snowflakes caught in his curls. One smug lift of his brows and you’d been between his spread legs, nestled to his front as you let him push you both down into piles of snow.

And now, alone with you in the twilight, he grew braver, grabbing at your waist to pull you in tighter, letting his frozen nose skim at the space between your hair and woollen hat. The sky was pink even though the sun was long gone, a deep, dusty rose with huge clouds, the kind of sky that promised more snow.

“If we fall off, you owe me a hot chocolate, Munson.”

Eddie snorted, pulling you against him, closer still. He arched his hips, pushing into your ass and even though he couldn’t see your face from your position, you bit down on a grin.

He wasn’t as smooth as he thought.

“Sweetheart, I’m wounded.” Eddie placed a ringed hand against his heart. “You think I’d let my girl fall?”

You shrugged, a barely seen move under your bulky winter jacket but you squirmed all the same, bum shifting backwards on the cheap backwards sledge until you heard Eddie stifle a grunt.

There was too much between you both, thick denim jeans and the tails of scarves, layers of wool and cotton. But still, you felt something - someone - twitch against the small of your back, just curving over your ass.

You snorted, covered it up with a cough and then made a show of leaning forward, as if peering over the edge of the stupidly high hill Eddie had perched you both on. “That’s like, a ninety degree angle, Eddie.”

It was Eddie’s turn to laugh. “And everyone says I’m dramatic,” he tsked. “Here, just hold onto me, s’fine.”

So you wiggled your way back into the boy, into the cradle of his hips, shifting and sighing until your ass was pressed into his crotch and you were more sure than ever that you could feel his cock pressed against you. You pretended to stretch, moaning slightly at the arch of your back and the click of your neck and you didn’t stop running yourself back onto the boy until he was swearing into your hair.

His hands grabbed at your waist, fingers digging into your jacket.

“Quit it,” he groaned, trying to sound annoyed.

“Edward Munson,” you gasped, theatrical as your boyfriend liked to be. You peered over your shoulder at him, at his flushed cheeks and heavy lidded eyes. “Are you hard right now?”

“As a fuckin’ rock, sweetheart,” Eddie admitted with zero shame, even less hesitation.

“This is a public space,” you tutted, ignoring the way he glared at you.

“It’s your fuckin’ fault—”

“There’s a kids play park not even a stones throw—”

He was scowling now, face beetroot. “Hey, you started this! With your wiggling ‘n squirming about ‘n shit.”

“You’re diabolical,” you whispered, all faux outrage. But your eyes were glittering. “What I’m I gonna do with you?”

Eddie grinned and he didn’t notice the snow start to fall again. He blinked down at you, brown eyes full of mischief. “Take me home and fuck me, hopefully.”

“Eddie!”

But he was already moving, lifting himself up from the sledge and he laughed when you squealed, the shift in weight making the red plastic tip. Your ass landed in snow, the strip of exposed skin between your jeans and your jacket shocked with the cold.

“First one to the van gets to come first,” the boy declared and by the time you got your bearings, Eddie was half way down the hill, curls flying as he kicked up snow behind him.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Mi Querida Esposa || Alejandro Vargas

For @glitterypirateduck's “Amor a Alejandro” writing challenge! I used prompt 16. "Nothing is ever simple".

Rating: G Words: 2.6K Tags: f!reader, you/your pronouns but no Y/N, Spanish terms of endearment, best friends to lovers, forced marriage (but not like THAT), friendly bickering, drinking, kissing, no smut. Summary: Alejandro's parents have been pestering him to settle down and get married. He lies that he and reader (his best-friend) are dating. The lie snowballs. a/n: I imagined that both Alejandro and reader are Mexican! Only curse words and terms of endearment are in Spanish.

a/n #2: I wrote a follow-up for this one shot: Check here

“Please, it’s just dinner!” Alejandro said as he stood in your kitchen at 6 P.M.

You had just gotten home from work, and barely had time to kick off your shoes and start on dinner when the front door to your apartment opened and your best friend came strolling in.

Not even a minute later, he was groveling (on his feet, because he’s too proud to do it on his knees) for your help.

“Are you drunk, Ale?” You ask him as you continue stirring the pasta in the boiling water so it doesn’t stick.

“No, I’m not.” He replies loudly as he gets as close to you as possible, leaning his hip on the counter next to him. “Please.” He pleads again. “It’s really simple, I promise you!” He continues.

“Simple? Ale, nothing is ever simple with you!” You retort as you use your hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’ve just asked me to marry you!” You ask him as you look up at him.

Sometimes you resent yourself for being such a good actress. It’s part of the reason why you find yourself pretending not to like Alejandro as much as you do. You swear you want to be a bit more caring and affectionate toward him… but you always end up bickering with him and giving him attitude.

“Please!” He turns you away from the pasta pot and puts both hands on your shoulders, staring at you like a deranged, desperate man. 

“Vato [dude], nobody is going to believe that we’re dating, let alone wanting to get married.” You tell him as you give him a deadpan, unconvinced look.

There was a time in the past when you would’ve bent yourself over backward for an opportunity to date (or say that you’re dating) Alejandro. But that was ages ago, a crush you have long since outgrown… Or so you think.

“Ay carajo [For fuck’s sake], they don’t have to 100% believe it! Just have to instill reasonable doubt!” He attempts to reason. “Please, flaca [skinny girl*]!” He tells you.

You shake away his hands from your shoulders and set your hands on your hips over your apron. “Why don’t you just go out and find yourself an actual girlfriend, for once?” You retort.

“This, again?” He grumbles. “I. already. told. you!” He says while slapping his right hand against his palm to punctuate his sentence. “I don’t have the time or the patience to go out and meet someone!” He groans in frustration. “I’m busy with work!”

“Ale, you’re a grown man and an Army Colonel at that.” You remind him. “You’re telling me you’re scared of telling your parents you’re focused on your career?” You add in a teasing, mocking tone.

“Oye! I’m not scared!” He denies it as he points a finger in your face. “I just wanted them to stop annoying me!” He adds as he looks away and grumbles under his breath.

“And you think lying about being in a relationship with me would make it better?” You scold him and nod your head in an act of defiance. “Your parents know me, Ale, they’ll realize that we’re not dating the moment they see us!”

“They kept pestering me to get married, loca [crazy girl], I had to lie.” He grumbles in reply as he throws his hands up and turns away. “And it did make it better!” He retorts and waves his hands in the air. “They were off my case for the last 6 months!” He adds.

“SIX MONTHS?!” You ask as your jaw drops. “You told them this SIX MONTHS AGO and didn’t think to tell me before?” You scold him. He turns to look at you like a naughty kid being lectured by his mother, his face set into a grimace. 

“What if I crossed paths with your mamá [mom] at the market, huh?!” You ask in shock as you point at yourself with both hands. “What would’ve happened then? What if someone had seen me on a date with another man?!” You add in surprise.

“But you didn’t! And I know you would’ve had my back if she started asking questions!” He adds, which causes you to glare at him angrily.

Alejandro hangs his head before taking a long, deep breath. “I’m sorry, okay?!” He ends up saying earnestly. “I just wanted them to stop acting like I’m a disgrace for being 38, single, and, allegedly, ‘miserable’!” He justified himself.

“But you are miserable and single!” You retort. As punishment, he wraps an arm around you and gives you a noogie. “Ay, puta madre [for fuck’s sake], Alejandro!” You demand as you slip away from the headlock, smacking at his arm in the process.

Alejandro takes a step toward you again and sets his hands on your shoulders once more, his eyes locked onto yours. “Please, cuata [twin/bestie].” He pleads. “Just this once.” He requests.

“Just ‘this once’? Are you serious?” You ask as you dip your head to the side, looking up at him like he’s lost his mind. “You just told me your parents invited your entire family over for dinner to celebrate our ‘engagement’ and start planning our wedding, Ale!” You remind him. “How is it going to be ‘just this once’?” You add.

“We can pretend to break up after this!” He retorts, making you sigh loudly and rub your eyes with your fingers. “Or… we can get married… for the tax benefits!” He adds, which causes you to look at him sharply, eyes widened and your hand raised to smack him.

“Okay, okay! I’m joking!” He adds while raising his hands defensively. In a lot of ways, you and Alejandro behave like siblings, always at each other’s throats… Only to turn around and have each other’s backs… like now. “Please.” He pleads again.

You take a long, deep, desperate breath and exhale sharply before turning around to strain out the water of your cooked pasta. “Fine…” You grumble under your breath. “But you owe me, big time!” You add.

“YES!” He shouts excitedly and shakes his fists in the air. “Thank you, thank you…” Alejandro says thankfully and wraps his arms around you in a bear hug which, definitely, makes you hear some bones of yours cracking.

“But!” You add, interrupting his celebration, which causes him to let go of you. “It’s only this dinner thing! And after that… in a couple of months, you’ve gotta tell them we ‘broke up’!” You demand.

“No, absolutely. I’ve already got a plan for that and everything!” Alejandro nods earnestly. “Just trust me.” He adds.

-

“I still can’t believe this.” You grumble as throw yourself onto the leather couch, which creaks as you sit. You feel exhausted. Your feet hurt, your cheeks are sore from smiling so much, you’re sweaty, your make-up is a bit messy, and you drank a bit more tequila than you should.

Alejandro sits on the leather couch beside you, rubbing his forehead and eyes with one hand while the other clutches a lowball glass of tequila. “You’ve said that 12 times now.” He grumbles.

You turn to look at him, your brow set low and your lips twisted into a pursed scowl. “And I’ll keep saying it!” You exclaim. “Because I can’t. believe. this.” You add.

Alejandro looks up at you before shooting the tequila shot in his chilled glass. “You’re the one that let our mamás talk you into this.” He retorts.

“Shut up.” You grumble defensively as you shuffle over, the gown rustling as you slide closer to him. He fills the glass with another double shot of Don Julio, and this time hands it over to you, which you take, gladly.

For the last 3 months since that dinner party at Alejandro’s parents’ house, you’ve dreaded this moment… The wedding itself, sure, but the moments after, the days after… When you’ve been freshly married and have to move in together and have all those changes to your routine…

But, right now, the dread is mostly gone. You could probably blame it on the tequila and the culmination of the stress, but right now, it almost feels… relieving to be here, in this hotel room, with your best friend/husband.

“That suit makes it look like you’re going to meet the President.” You grumble after taking a sip of your drink, your eyes set on his formal dress uniform. It’s your first time seeing him in his dress blues… He looks nice.

The suit itself is a dark teal blue-adjacent color, and he has a ridiculous amount of medals over his left breast, which you almost mocked him for, before biting your tongue, knowing they’re important to him. 

The green beret with the Fuerzas Especiales insignia, which he wore for the better part of the day, sits on his lap. His suit jacket is unbuttoned and so are the top buttons of his white button-up, revealing his white undershirt and the gold crucifix necklace he always wears.

“And you look like you’re celebrating your quinceñera. Why would you pick such a poofy dress?” He retorts with a raised brow while leaning back on the couch and crossing his ankle over his knee. His eyes are glued to the ball gown wedding dress you’re wearing.

“I was already being forced to marry you, I was going to enjoy what little I could. I wanted to feel like a princess.” You reply and shoot him an annoyed look. Alejandro’s arm slowly slips onto the back of the couch, resting it there, behind you.

“Excuses.” He says dismissively and smirks playfully at you. “You wanted a dress that big so you’d have a built-in way of distancing yourself from me, so I didn’t have to kiss you or dance with you.” He quips and nudges you with his elbow.

You nudge him back, the two of you bickering like little kids. “Shut up!” You complain, which makes him laugh, and so do you laugh with him. “God, we had to kiss in front of everyone…” You grumble as you knock back the rest of the tequila shot.

“You say that as if I’m some sort of disgusting monster.” He retorts, causing your tongue to click in an annoyed, dismissive way. “C’mon… You didn’t hate it all that much.” He replies.

“Pelo amor de Dios [for the love of God], shut your mouth!” You demand defensively, your whole face warming up as you remember the cheers that came upon your kiss during the ceremony… and all throughout the reception to really ‘sell’ that you two are in love. “It was weird…”

Alejandro chuckles. “Not as weird as moving in together after tonight, eh?” He quips, which causes you to groan audibly. “Hey, think about it this way… Killed two birds with one stone…” He says as he scoots closer and looks you in the eyes.

“My parents stopped pestering me about getting married, your parents stopped pestering you too…” He reminds you. “Plus, now you don't have to pay rent, and we get tax benefits and better healthcare through the Army.” He adds.

“You and your stupid benefits.” You retort. “You know, we’re only in this mess because of you.” You complain and nudge him with your elbow as you look up at him.

“I know…” Alejandro grumbles and winces away from your sharp elbow to his ribs. “You’ve made a point to remind me of this every waking moment of every day since we tried to ‘break up’ and you let my mamá talk you into ‘staying with me’.” He adds and laughs a little.

Your face contorts into a grimace and you groan loudly yet again. “Your mamá has always been very demanding and scary, okay?” You retort.

“So you understand why I lied in the first place, huh?” He adds, causing you to nudge him and smack him upside the head.

“Shut up, Ale…” You retort while he chuckles a bit, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. “The woman basically begged me to stay with you because, in her eyes, if your best friend of 10 years can’t keep you tied down, then you really are a disgrace to the Vargas family.” You tell him. “What was I supposed to do?”

Instead of groaning, he simply smiles broadly and shakes his head. “Well, mi querida esposa [my dear wife], it’s over and done with. We’re married… and she’s thrilled.” He remarks and chuckles.

For some reason, you find yourself getting a bit flustered, your face flushing a bit warmer. Something about the way he called you his wife caused your heart to race… You never gave much thought to the idea of marriage… But now that you think about it… Being called someone’s wife is strangely nice. And… being Ale’s wife? It’s even nicer. 

“Don’t remind me…” You remark in an attempt to sound disdainful, but it only ends up sounding soft and gentle. “Next thing we know, she’ll be pestering us into having grandchildren… My mamá too.” You say before groaning once more.

Alejandro’s face winces a little at the idea, but then, he breaks into a grin again, seeming playful and interested. “Groan all you want… But I’m sure you’d like the process of making them.” He quips and wags his eyebrows mischievously, earning another smack upside the head from you.

“I hate you…” You tell him playfully and shake his head, annoyed and amused at him… as usual.

“No, you don’t.” Your husband says and slowly leans closer. “You love me.” He adds playfully.

“No, I’m pretty sure I hate you.” You retort as you hold your ground, remaining in the same position.

“Hm… no. You love me.” Alejandro insists and leans closer.

Your eyes sparkle a bit. “No, I don’t.” You reply while your eyes narrow at him in a mock annoyed way.

Alejandro licks his lips and slowly rubs his nose against yours. “Yes, you do. You love me… Just like you loved kissing me after the ceremony.” He quips with that shit-eating grin of his.

Something in the air makes you feel even more flustered and you look away once more. Licking your lips too, you gulp down a breath in your throat. “Maybe...” You end up admitting.

Alejandro’s smirk grows bigger. “It’s okay.” He assures you with a nod. “I didn’t mind kissing you either.” He admits, which makes your eyes widen a bit in surprise and you look back up at him.

Alejandro’s lips then brush against yours… And he presses them together into a soft, gentle kiss that, this time, doesn’t feel like a performance. It’s not a rushed little peck done only for his family, and yours, and the guests at your wedding. It’s slow and sweet, just for the two of you in this hotel room…

After a moment, Alejandro pulls away and locks eyes with you, his brown eyes softened and almost too calm… You know he’s not drunk and neither are you… And tomorrow morning, any attempts to blame this kiss on tequila are simply not going to be truthful.

You wanted to kiss each other and you did. And, in fact, you want to kiss him more.

You press your lips against his again, your hand raising to wrap around the back of his head, your fingers slipping into his black hair, tugging the strands away from their slicked-back style. His hands grab onto your waist around the bustle of your wedding dress as you both surrender to the kiss.

The moment your lips pull apart again, he leans against your ear and you hear it. “We’re going to be alright...” He murmurs reassuringly. 

You take another deep breath, allowing yourself to inhale the scent of his cologne and sweat in his body, the alcohol in his breath, and the laundry detergent in his dress blues… It’s a comforting scent. He comforts you. So you nod in agreement and Alejandro gently kisses you one more time. 

Of all people to be stuck in a sham of a marriage for both of your families’ sake… it being the man you’ve maybe harbored a crush on for a decade is not the worst of options…

End note: Although “flaca” means “skinny girl”, it has nothing to do with the reader’s actual size, most of the time. It's just a term of endearment.

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[ Amor a Alejandro Masterlist ] || [ My Masterlist ]

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

I’m highly curious to see what everyone's reaction to seeing snow and or playing with it is like. Snow ball fights, building snow man, drinking hot coco, etc.

Sorry for taking so long to respond! Anyways, here's how all the rescued toys would react to seeing snow for the first time:

First things first! They're rescued when it's still autumn, so when snow arrives, Angel is still living with them on the small house, and not the future farm.

Catnap and Dogday were talking outside the house, during the early hours of the night, when they noticed something white falling from the sky. They were really young when they last saw snow, so they both panicked and called Angel. They came outside, holding Bunzo, and said "oh, it's the first snow of the year".

Almost all the toys tried to eat snow at first before Angel asked them to NOT do that. They watched as everyone went outside to see it.

Bunzo was fascinated. Jumping non-stop while pointing at it and going "it's raining white!". Delight explained to him what that was, but she was very distracted staring at the skies as well.

In a way, this was a sign of hope and real change for the kids, just like experiencing rain for the first time was. Delight cried a bit as the realness of the situation sunk in.

The following day, Angel took the toys outside. And, oooh, boy.

Bunzo, the mini wuggies and critters, Huggy, PJ and Boxy Boo were screaming and jumping non-stop. Other smaller toys joined them, rolling in the snow in excitement.

Dogday likes digging snow. He thinks it's relaxing, despite Kickin annoying him about it. And speaking of which, Kickin was still on his "I'm not going to show any feelings" phase, so he tried to pretend he wasn't mesmerized by the snow.

Bubba and Delight were looking at snowflakes to see if they really weren't equal to each other. Marie and Kickin ended up joining them out of curiosity.

Catnap spent some time trying to make sense of the snow, until Angel showed him how to build a snowman. Picky, Bobby and Crafty joined them, making little snow sculptures.

Poppy never actually liked snow all that much, but at this point in time she's absolutely thriving. REALLY wants to go ice skating as soon as possible, but for now she's making snow angels... And then decides to get Kissy to hit Huggy with a snowball.

Hoppy, who was watching over the younger ones, immediately saw this and, as the responsible one, threw a snowball at Poppy. The situation became an all-out war between everyone, with Hoppy being the main culprit into getting others to join them.

Somehow, no one could defeat Angel. Truly a king.

After that, Angel made everyone hot cocoa. They do NOT like the cold, mind you, but the kids seem so happy, they can't complain.

The following year, when everyone is at the farmhouse and it starts snowing, they keep on making family-wide snowball fights. No one is safe from Hoppy and Kickin. Except Angel because, again, they're pretty good at dodging things, and Long Legs, girl is a MONSTER, but outside of her NO ONE is safe.

Dogday helps Angel a lot to make sure the house is protected from the cold, but then Kickin and Hoppy drag him away so he can have "fun".

(he has so much fun hiding things in the snow for others to find)

The Prototype is also there by that point. He's indifferent to the cold, but he likes making snow sculptures. As time goes by and his relationship with the family gets better, he ends up joining the snowball fights. He always ends up on the floor while everyone swarms him.

Angel ALWAYS forces everyone to wear way more jackets than what they need. They may be from Brazil's south region but they do not TOLERATE snow-level temperatures. Unfortunately this means that two/three years post-rescue, the Prototype becomes Angel go-to guy when everyone is outside because he's surprisingly warm on his fleshy area. Angel just stays next to him trembling and is like "God I fucking hate this weather", and Proto is just "then go inside...?", only for Angel to eye him. They are NOT missing the chance to see the kids happy, okay?

[kerokerokook]

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. 

me 

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

[foreignswaggersession]

there are definitely iwtv fans who love acting like they care about racism when it comes to fictional characters, but have no issue with being condescending towards actual black and south asian people in this fandom.

Btw making "brown man has mid dick" jokes to prop up lestat is also clownery and it's even more stupid how some people would choose to double down on it after hearing about why it's degrading and uncomfortable. like i couldn't believe the bullshit i was reading from some of these so called "fandom anti racists", but they're clearly not mature enough for this discussion.

sorry for taking so long to respond anon - i wanted to make the posts with screenshots first so i could show my work and not be accused of merely reaching to support my ship. i think most the condescension from these fans comes from their selective memory of the show as filtered through their long-held headcanons, and i wanted to respond by citing the show itself. the fans started claiming louis was never attracted to armand as plainly evident, when the show clearly says the exact opposite, repeatedly. i watched the "armand has mid dick" joke/theory develop in real time and snowball within the pro-louis section of the fandom. it got twisted up in the 'louis hates topping' + 'lestat's dick is uniquely amazing' + 'armand can't satisfy louis' takes, all of which i disagree with. i understand your discomfort anon, it's part of why i started posting in the fandom - 'louis only wants pink dick' also became a thing this season and it broke me (louis didn't get it up for jonah while eating rats for y'all to act like pink dick does anything for him but sure, believe what you want).

to give some credit, i think some of these fans you're talking about started making these 'jokes' in reaction to the overwhelming (and undeserved) sympathy towards armand that dominated the fandom at the time (probably still does tbh). it's fair to point out that armand is not just any brown man but is in fact an extremely manipulative abuser who threatened to kill louis, set him and his family up to get killed, killed his daughter/sister, lied to him about it for years, sadistically let him suffer after a suicide attempt he instigated, erased that memory and covered THAT up for years, and to also suggest that those acts negatively affected louis's attraction to him. and yeah, i too am tired of reading takes about how loving armand was (girl when?) and how louis wasn't nice enough to him 🙄. that said, armand is attractive as fuck in universe and in our reality, so it's weird to pretend louis would not be attracted to him, despite his off-putting nature (see season 1).

most importantly, louis's desire for armand is a key plot point essential to the breakdown of his and claudia's relationship. claudia didn't say "picked another one over me" and "you were lestat's, now you're armand's" out of ignorance - she understands louis better than anyone. it's wishful thinking to suggest that louis suffered in silence for claudia through eps 11 and 13 and only stayed with armand for 70+ years to protect claudia/punish lestat and no other reason. it would have been really great if louis kept his commitment to claudia, probably would have saved several lives...alas, tragedy.

like i keep saying, just say you don't see the chemistry in / can't support loumand, or prefer the chemistry / want to support loustat. but claiming that louis never fell in love with armand prior to claudia's murder - that just is not supported by the show's text.

just fyi, i think saintarmand has a great answer to a similar ask, so i will also refer you to her response here.

[snailchasers-den]

What about Tigerclaw x Spottedleaf has made you like the ship so much? I don't dislike it but I don't quite understand it either.

Well, the thing that kicked off my initial interest was the scene they had together in the first book, which I read as some type of flirty banter as a kid, and it later on snowballed from there the more I thought about it nowadays, I think LMAO Since then it's been like, my all time biggest ship in warriors, and I think about them all the time, even if I can't post about them a ton, I check the tag regularly and kinda just rotate them in my brain LMAO

It's customary at this point to mention I'm writing this while extremely tired, as I do most of my asks, so fair warning if any of this is kinda clunky. Other people have explained it WAY more eloquently than me, so if you're curious, I recommend looking in the SpottedTiger tag, cause others explain it in way more concise and understandable ways. I write most shit like I'm a madman at a whiteboard, but if that's your jam, you've asked the perfect person.

It's really a mixed bag why I started liking it-? A whole lot of things added up and got me hooked.

The difference in demeanors is fun, with Tigerclaw being threatening and ambitious and dramatic, while Spottedleaf is sweet and compassionate, yet extremely sassy, I feel like they'd play off of eachother nicely even in just comedic, non-romantic scenes.

Depending on how you want things to play out, you can basically sway how they effect eachother in however many different ways you want- Want an evil Spottedleaf AU? Tiger manages to convince her to join his side and we have a fun evil medicine cat. Want a however good Tigerclaw and a fluffier AU? Spotted is what he needs to soften him up just enough to not go feral and try taking over the clans. Want to tear them apart and have it be super tragic and kinda fucked up? Tiger still gets Clawface to kill her because he knows he can't bring himself to do it and knows she's his weak point. Something more canon-compliant? They were had a secret relationship before she died, and he sees her in Tawnypelt (I have a fic based on that idea, I love it. Obsessed with Tawnypelt resembling Spottedleaf by coincidence.) They're super flexible in that you can basically tweak and twist their story in so many different ways depending on how much you adjust the scenarios or their actions.

Make them mushy and sweet! Make them a badass medic/leader villain couple! Make them divorce eachother 3 different times and be bitter exes who throw snark and cold one liners! Make them be a tragic failed love story! Make them somehow make it work? Make them gay toms! Make them lesbians! Make them polyamorous with a cat of your choice! They're so versatile, and I love seeing anything people do with them.

I also like to throw a lot of religious/Starclan related things into the mix personally, because in different ways they both have connections with it in ways a lot of cats don't, and it can be both a good connecting point, and make it have an extra air of tragedy which I play VERY hard into in my False Prophecy AU. LMAO Spoilers for the AU that aren't really spoilers since I've drawn it before, but Tigerclaw doesn't actually commit a lot of his atrocities in that AU (Hence why I don't call him Tigerstar) and still goes to the Dark forest primarily due to literally lying about Starclan's word when they already wanted him dead from the moment he was born and 'corrupting a medicine cat', (And whatever else they could get him on, probably him being a bad mentor or having bad thoughts. They just wanted him in hell.) meanwhile, Spottedleaf, the golden girl of Starclan, despite being the one who ACTUALLY directly lied about their word and broke the code, is given a second chance and let in because 'She only loved too much'. (Because if they're going to say that line for someone like ASHFUR, I can twist it and use it for my AU in a more sinister manner, since Starclan is morally questionable here.) The ending of the AU's story also heavily relies on the afterlives, and though I won't go into it here since that's not what this ask is about and I genuinely do want to write it someday, I think it's a really fun way to twist things for them. It has such a poignant, vivid energy it carries with it, and I don't think it would feel the same with really any other pairing.

They're closer in age than most ships with them seperately, which is super nice, and makes it really fun to imagine them interacting as apprentices and their feelings building from those times into adulthood-

If you want to consider Spottedleaf's Heart, that could actually add to it too, seeing as they were both victims of Thistleclaw, likely even around the same time, and could seek solace in eachother over it- They're the only ones that truly understand, and that could drive them to want to protect eachother from other threats because they know they've been hurt in similar ways and don't want that to happen again.

I tend to imagine Tigerclaw to be a big ass Maine Coon while Spottedleaf is fairly small, and that just adds to it for me, since I think it makes the fluff between them 10 times better. My favorite warriors ship dynamic is when one of them is very, very fluffy and the other can basically just. Sink into their fur like a pillow. Hence why I also like MothCrow. I'm both unpredictable and incredibly predictable.

I also just don't really like a lot of Spottedleaf ships? She's one of my favorite characters, but I don't like basically any of the other pairings I've ever seen for her. Definitely don't like SpottedFire and never did, I see Mousefur as very very aromantic and relate to that, so SpottedMouse is very much not my jam- Anything else tends to be a rarepair or just something I don't really vibe with- She's not shipped with as many people as you'd expect. SpottedTiger was like striking gold for me- (Though Spottedleaf/Runningnose is also a nice one I think about from time to time, and is where I got Snailchaser as a character from LMAO)

Tigerclaw has always stood out to me and registered in my mind as being a romantic in a way too? It's a unique trait for a villain, especially in warriors, so I love emphasizing it, since god knows the Erins don't and won't. I know a lot of people like to joke about him kinda sleeping around or being a womanizer with him having two mates, but I love taking his multiple mates and interpreting it in more of a romantic sense- (And also I headcanon him as Polyamorous, but that's just me) He wasn't a good partner at all in canon, but something about imagining if he was makes him 10 times more compelling to me. He's a romantic! He's a family man! And he's a sadistic wanna-be dictator with the ambition needed to wreak havok and take over Shadowclan! Those traits 100% clash and that's the point. Putting him with Spottedleaf further complicates that by pairing him with a compassionate medic who does not at all share his lust for power. (Or might deep down, who knows! It's up to the writer!) I think it'd be fun to see internal battles and how the actual good traits he has fuck with his plans.

Though, if you know me at all, I'm also just really weird and love rarepairs and crack ships for Warriors. Hell, I basically made up the MothCrow tag on here by cautiously posting about Mothwing x Crowfeather- Even if my stuff's not completely canon accurate, I write in much more 'what if' scenarios and heavy AU usage. It's more fun and interesting to me to write in a more speculative "I love the version of this character that exists only in my brain" way, and out comes the stuff I make.

[faegoddessog]

Not 'till Monday

Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, clit play, fellatio, cum swallowing, cunnilingus, snowballing (male to female), Austin taking SUCH good care of you is SO many ways.

Summary: Recovering from surgery is tough. Doing it with Austin at your side is amazing with one exception-no orgasms allowed. I mean how did the doctor expect you to NOT be turned on when Austin is caring for you? It was fine for the first bit, but as you near the end of your blackout period it gets harder and harder, especially when he's vowed to abstain as well. Monday morning could not come soon enough and that goes for the both of you.

A/N: This little one shot was inspired by a convo with @purejasmine. I basically vomited it up in 24 hours. There are wee references to my other works and yeah, I have completely self serving fantasy that he'd read my work and go... 'damn... that's hot'. LOL! Let a girl dream!!!

Enjoy! let know if you'd like to be added to my tags list!

@purejasmine @slowsweetlove @richardslady121 @austinbutlerslovers

You weren’t gonna read it, your T-besties new dirty smut,  but the line just jumped out at you and now you couldn’t stop reading and re-reading just that one line.

“Is this what you want? For me to fill you with my cock?” 

Holy. Fuck. You shouldn’t be, but you are so fucking turned on right now. The fucking buzzing and throbbing of your pussy is out of control! Fuck! It is so intense, it's no joke.  You give in and read on. When you get to the mutual orgasm part, you squirm in your seat feeling your wetness literally bubbling out. What the actual fuck!

“I can control myself” you think, literally shaking.

Your throat vibrates with a needy groan as you toss your head back. ”Stop triggering me, bro!” you assert to the ceiling. 

“Are you ok, Princess?” his concerned voice calls down the hall from your bedroom. 

“Yes, I’m fine.. Well not fine.. But I’m ok” you shake your head, sighing, texting your t-bestie to fucking stop, tongue in cheek of course. You never want her to stop. 

“What’s wrong, what’d I do Baby,” his voice is hot in your ear, just moments before his hand crosses your upper chest. 

“Nothing you did Austin, my love. She’s just at it again,” you hold up your phone to show him the latest smut. 

“Princess, you should not tempt yourself. You know the doctor said no orgasms, not until Monday. You can hold out a couple more days,” he lightly kisses your cheek and walks around to sit on the couch with you. 

“I know, I know and I’ve been really good and you’ve been amazing. But she writes you so well… plus just having you around keeps me wet all the time.” 

“MMM I know, that’s one of a long list of my favorite things about you,” he purrs at you.

Austin has been a freaking angel sent from the beyond since your surgery.  Well, longer than that. He’s cooked for you, made sure you’ve stayed on top of your pain meds, stayed up at night to hold you in his arms until you fall asleep. He’s never missed a chance to take your walks with you. Even though they’ve had to be a little slower than usual. He holds your hand and points out animals and trees and the beauty of nature. You are so in love with him, he is the best thing that ever happened in your life. He even declined a project that was supposed to be starting this month because he knew you’d need him. 

“Bah, there will be others,” he’d said when you had protested, “I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it anyway. And I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you after surgery.” 

The flip side is that everything he does just turns you on, he is like your own personal interactive pornography. You have excellent self control, something you’d had to cultivate in your previous, toxic relationship. But this was testing your limits, you were starting to have a hard time concentrating on anything.

“I love that you don’t get weirded out by reading her smut that is about you.”  You nestle into his arms.  You two frequently read her stories together, getting so turned on that you fucked like bunnies. She absolutely loved the idea that her mind fuckery got the two of you off. 

“Heck no, not when she’s given us some of the best fucking ideas… like that one about cockwarming…or the one where I dominate you and call you Pet… damn that was one hot time.” He reaches down and adjusts himself. It’s been a while for him too, he vowed no orgasms for himself in solidarity. 

“Sweetheart,” you cover his hand with your own, your pinky brushing his burgeoning bulge, “if you want to you can jerk off. You want to cum in my mouth?” You feel bad for him, and you fucking love the taste of his cum. The idea of it makes your pussy throb. 

“No, no my Princess. I made a vow and I’m sticking to it. Besides, I was once a teenaged boy, I’ve had plenty of hard-ons that I’ve not played with, and I KNOW how hot that makes you. No way.” 

 He stands up and offers both hands to help you stand up. 

“C’mon, I have a surprise for you.” 

He leads you down the hallway, through your shared bedroom and into the bathroom. The tub is filled with steaming water, the scent of lavender and chamomile drift in the air. Two glasses of sparkling water and a plate of your favorite foods sit by the side. You two bought this house in part because of the huge tub. Both of you love baths and wanted something big enough that you could share. 

Austin helps you strip naked, put your hair up, and get into the bath before stripping off his clothes. If this was supposed to help you calm down, it’s a disaster. You fucking love the sight of him. He has been working out especially hard and he is fucking ripped right now. His lats pop and the ripples of his torso are fucking gorgeous as he bends to pull his joggers off. He doesn't quite get the first leg off and hops a little, giggling. He is so adorable and sexy at the same time, quite the enigma.  

You lean forward as he slides in behind you. You feel the hardness of his cock slide down your back and nestle at the base of your spine. He wraps you in his kind, gentle, strong arms. You melt. 

“Fuck Austin, I know you meant this to help… but it’s fucking hot,” you are struggling to keep your hips still.

“You want me to run some cold water?” he says helpfully. 

You purse your lips and twist to look at him. He is smiling ear to ear, chuckling. He knows what you meant. 

“Just wait love,” he whispers in your ear, “wait and I'll give you the most mind-blowing orgasm with my mouth in a couple days.  Then I’ll cum on your tongue, but you have to promise to swallow.” As though you’d ever do anything else but swallow his seed. His cock twitches against your back, his teasing of you is turning him on too. 

“Austin, you are not actually helping.” you giggle. Giggling is the only recourse you have right now. You fucking love this teasing, love this mind fuckery. At least you know you’ll get it eventually. Get his mouth, his tongue, his fingers, his body, his cock, his cum. FUCK now YOU are not helping. 

“I’m sorry my love, here let me feed you. At least we can appease your slutty tastebuds if not your slutty pussy,” he kisses your cheek and grabs the plate. 

“My pussy isn’t slutty!” you say with mock indignation, “it’s only for you Austin. How can it be slutty?” 

“Mmm, you are right,” he reaches down to cup your pussy in his hand, but stops himself just before plunging into the water. making a fist instead 

“Your wickedly wonton pussy, then” he breathes into your ear. Dear goddess in heaven, he is not making this easy.

He proceeds to give you little tidbits of perfectly cooked bacon, rare steak with goats cheese, roasted root veggies, fruit and yogurt, perfectly ripe avacados. You suck the bits off his fingers as he feeds you. 

“My Princess needs her protein for healing,” he kept saying every time he cooked for you inthe past two weeks. He did, indeed, treat you like a princess. 

The next two days pass without incident. There are no new story updates, and Austin keeps it surprisingly G rated. Though there is an undercurrent of sexual tension throughout the house. Sunday night is like fucking Chistmas eve, the anticipation is driving you mad in the best kind of way. As you cuddle on the couch watching a film, a standard Sunday night in your joint home, his arm is draped over your shoulder. His fingers lightly stroke your collarbone. You think they are shaking slightly, as though he is a nervous teenager hoping for a gratuitous movie theater-like grope session.   Is your mind playing fuckery tricks with you? 

You hear him sigh. It’s nothing to do with the movie on the screen. You thread your fingers through his, rubbing your thumb on his palm. You can feel his eyes on you. You tilt your head up to look at his perfect face. His little dimple appears, the one that you can’t help but kiss. Now is no different. You lean up and press your lips to his. His fingers curl around yours as he deepens the kiss almost instantly. You are instantly wet, well, more so than you always are with him. Your tongues touch then caress lips. Lips are momentarily trapped by teeth, before opening to be sucked and stroked by tongues ones again. God his kisses are like fuel to your fire. Your hand drops to his chest, and you turn towards him, fully engaging in the act of kissing this perfectly amazing man. Kissing that quickly ripens into full on making out, including his hand sliding up your shirt to fondle your breasts. Movie theater grope session indeed. 

The blaze of passion that ignites in your belly is ridiculous. This is the first time you’ve really kissed like this since the surgery.  The forbidden fruit effect is full on. The fact that you can't have it, makes you want it all the more.  

‘Fuck it’, you think, your mind clouded with lust, ’what is a few less hours.’

You move to straddle him and at the same time your hand reaches to undo the button on your jeans. 

“Whoa, Princess,” his deep voice husky with desire, “not below the waist, not until tomorrow.”

“But…” your face is a mask of petulance, forehead crinkled down and lip stuck out. Your frustration is evident. 

“No, my Love, I promised I’d take care of you and that means following doctors orders. No orgasms until Monday, and four weeks still until I get to sink into your tightness,” he reaches out to pet your protruding lip with one long finger. The finger that you want rubbing your clit right now. “I’m sorry I gave in to temptation, Baby.” With both hands he tilts your head down and kisses your forehead. 

You close your eyes, breathing deep. He is right, dammit. 

Later that night, he is propped up against the headboard. You curl up in his arms, grateful for his love of a good snuggle. He opens the book he is reading out loud to you. His gorgeous baritone lulls you to sleep.

You must be in an orchard, you have to be. What else smells like vanilla and citrus? The tall grass you are walking through brushes against your naked butt. The grass reaches and gropes along your thighs, trying to get to your pussy.  It feels good, the grass caresses your ass. You realize it’s not the grass but a shining ethereal being standing next to you, hands cupping your genitals front and back. Warmth radiates from its hands and soaks into your skin. You feel an intrusion inside you, malleable and warm. A sense of peace glows in you, from the inside out and the light erupts from your sacral chakra, like water over pouring from a vase. It feels divine, like an orgasm of light. Then you feel a concentrated rubbing against your mons. You hear a moaning and realize it’s your voice. 

You come to full waking consciousness and feel Austin next to you, on his side.  The palm of his hand rubbing circles on your vulva. You realize you have been moaning and just came in your dream, or maybe here in waking life too. 

“Yeah,” you hear in your ear, “that’s it, cum for me.” You can smell the orange and vanilla on his wrist as he brushes hair away from your face.

You eyes flutter open so see Austin staring at you, biting his bottom lip, nostrils flaring. When he sees your eyes open, his mouth curves just enough to expose the dimple at the corner of his lip. That fucking dimple, it melts you. Then his mouth is on yours hard and fast, the clean taste indicating that he brushed his teeth and rinsed with mouthwash. 

His finger dips inbetween your labia, you are so fucking wet, he doens’t even need to pull wetness over your clit. It’s already bathed in your juices. You are pretty sure that you already came once, which is fantastic as you were nervous that something inside might hurt when you finally got to orgasm. 

His fingers start working their magic, circling the hood of your clit, over and over. Then switching side to side. His mouth is constantly on yours. You want to stop him and tell him you want his beautiful mouth on your pussy, but it all feels so good. Usually he would gradually get faster, but he keeps a steady pace. It’s mere minutes and your orgasm washes over you. Your body freezes,  spine jerking and your little grunts are swallowed by Ausitn’s mouth. 

“That’s my girl,” he gently pets your vulva, “How was that my love?” 

“Please, please keep going,” you pant, eyes pleading for the overstimulation that he is so freaking good at. You can’t stop your hips from pushing forward and back against his hand.

“No babe, we are gonna take it slow at first,” he smiles, eyes full of love, “don’t want anything to… burst or whatever with a crazy hard orgasm.”

“Hmmmmm” your voice whines, “can I at least have your cum, baby. I need it.”

“That I can do,” he nods imperceptibly, “C’mere sugar.”

You help him pull back the covers as you sit up,  unwrapping his gorgeously perfect naked form next to you. His cockstand is a fucking dream, thick and long lying on his chiseled stomach. Your pussy practically drips at the sight of it.  You snag the bottle of water from the bedside table and quickly drain it. 

“Get that mouth down there, I need to be wet,” his voice is grizzly with need. 

You could live off Austin’s cum. In fact you usually get it almost every day. The past two weeks have been torture, not having his milky seed in your mouth. 

Eagerly you straddle his leg, bending down. He pulls your hair, still in its sleepy bunny ears, away from your face. He fucking loves watching your mouth on him. You lick your lips, looking at his eyes as he tucks one hand behind his head for a better view.  He knows you struggle with your gag reflex and he has never asked you to go beyond your comfort zone. 

Tongue out, you lick his soft tip. He releases a shaky sigh. He has missed this too. You bring your lips together pushing saliva out between the seam with your tongue, letting it run down his cock. You push your closed mouth down, tongue flicking his tiny hole. You seal your lips over his red tip,  chasing the rivulets and sucking them back up as you pull back. You dive down again, only taking his tip. Your cheeks hollow and the sound of wet suction follows. 

“Oh my god, Princess” he breathes.

You rub your smiling lips along his tip in a figure eight, like lip balm. You love hearing his sounds of pleasure. You engulf his head again, just a little farther this time. Your tongue rubs side to side along his frenulum. You bob up and down, up and down, tongue working him, slurping on the end of his cock.  

He moans, his hand rubbing down his stomach to the inside curve of his pelvis. His thumb and forefinger catching up the root of his cock. His long middle and ring fingers falling in the crevice next to his balls. 

“Yeah, that’s it gorgeous. Get me all wet with that pretty mouth,” he croons at you. His glutes start flexing slightly,  pushing his cock up. He’s trying for all he’s worth not to fuck your mouth. 

“Princess, I gotta… I’m… I need…oh god” he moans, not able to finish any sentence. You pull back as he holds his hand out, you drip spit into his hand and he wraps that big fist around that big cock. His hips thrusting up into his hand almost violently. He is so considerate and didn't want to do that into your mouth and make you choke. Clearly the last two weeks have taken their toll on his self control. 

You love seeing him play with himself. Last summer,  you ‘caught’ him jerking off. He had thought you had left.  You’d ran back inside to get something you forgot when you heard his moan. Peeking through the door, your pussy had gotten so wet when you saw him sitting at his desk, laptop open. You had almost slipped into his office to help, but when you realized what he was watching, you were too beguiled to interrupt. It was a video you two had made. A close up of your lips around his cock, both oral and vaginal. You didn’t let him know you were there, but you watched through the sliver of the door as he stroked himself to climax. Your hand was down your pants and your finger on your wet, wet clit.  It was so fucking hot. You loved the idea of being his porn. 

Now, your pussy is again activated watching him pump himself. You realize you have lowered down to his knee and are rubbing your wet pussy on his thigh, riding him.

“Fuck, Princess. That is so hot, you are dripping down my leg,” he seethes through his clenched jaw. “GAH!” he tosses his head back, a sure sign that he is close. His hand speeds up, and stops, speeds up and stops, edging himself just a bit. His forehead is pulled down in concentration, his plush lips form a little ‘o’ as he pants.

Holy fuck, he could not be hotter in this moment. His bicep bulging,  his pecs popped, abs contracted and tight, forearm veiny with effort, thigh flexed and wet with your juices.  Your mouth is open, tongue flicking.nYour pussy lips dragging back and forth over his skin. Fuck, it feels so good. So much deprivation has made you ultra sensitive. 

“Get that greedy tongue down there, so I can cum all over it,” he puffs out. 

You tip your head down. His legs are long enough that you can still rub against him and reach his cock with your mouth. Your tongue is out ready to catch. 

“Yesssss, here it comes,” he moans. 

The warm milky cum spatters your tongue, you know how much he likes to see it hit your mouth.  He groans in appreciation. Then you are down on him, sucking lightly, not wasting a single drop. It’s so fucking hot, such an activation for you to have his cum in your mouth. You sit up and grind into his tight quads just at the insertion on the patellar tendon. It's the perfect dune of muscle to rub your clit on.  You moan around your mouthful of cum, your tongue rubbing it along the roof of your mouth. 

“That’s it Princess, get it,” his hand is still on his cock, lightly stroking himself. He is so fucking turned on with your wanton display. His other hand is on your knee, somehow wanting to help, but not wanting to interrupt your flow. 

Your pussy tightens, good lord the friction feels good. Just as you can feel yourself tipping over that brink, you let his cum slide down your throat. Your eyes roll back in your head and your pussy gushes as your hips freeze forward. Your hips and head jerk in unison, grinding your pussy down on him with each jerk. It’s nearly overstimulating… nearly. 

You fall forward onto him, ass in the air, panting, shaking. He catches you with waiting arms. 

Cradling your head on his chest. 

“You good, Princess?” there is just a touch of concern in his voice. You love how he loves you. 

You nod, slowly getting your breath under control.

“Could be better,” you look up at him with a glint in your eye. 

“Oh yeah,” he gently swipes at a creamy drop on the corner of your mouth, offering the drop to your mouth. You greedily lick it from his finger. 

“Yeah,” you say after rolling the salty tang around your mouth, “I, uh, I seem to remember a promise a certain hot fucking man made me. One of a mindblowing orgasm with his talented mouth.” You smile at him,  running a finger along  the border of his lips. Those perfect fucking lips. 

“Oh yeah, when is he getting here?” he jests, chuckling.

You purse your lips and shake your head, you love his silly goofy side.

“Austin,” you kiss his mouth then roll off him, legs wide,”get down there and make good.” 

His eyes smolder at you, he loves it when you have just a touch of command in your voice. It usually doesn't last long, as he likes being in control in the bedroom, but it turns him on nonetheless. 

“Yes Ma’am,” he nods. Catlike he flips on top of you and slides down your body. In supporting his upper body weight, his shoulders bulge and ripple. That and his ocean blue eyes never leaving yours is enough to set you off.

He wraps his arms under your upper thighs. 

He inhales the smell of you.

His eyes close and he moans in pleasure. 

His mouth opens and he drags his tongue along your lips. 

“Just nothing in, not yet” you remind him. 

The apples of his cheeks pop as he smiles up at you, “I know darling.”

His tongue rolls around under your clit, pushing between your labia. He laps your little lips into his mouth, sucking them gently. 

You moan at the sensations, god you’ve missed his mouth. 

He nestles down at the bottom of your entrance and with a flickering tongue licks your wetness up, sucking your clit lightly into his mouth at the top.

 It’s fucking amazing. 

He licks again, his bottom lip dragging after his tongue, over and over. Until he settles on top of your clit. One hand slips from your leg and you feel two fingers press, not into your vagina, but in the crevices on either side of your lips. He licks your nub with the tip of his tongue and  presses rhythmically on the legs of your clitoris from the outside, milking your pussy. It feels incredible, you had no idea that was a thing, at least not for your body. 

Your juices start to flow freely, dribbling down. He greedily licks as much of it up as he can, sucking hard on your labia. Then his mouth closes wholly over your clit and the top bits of your lips. He sucks, the tip of his tongue flickering over the hard little button. 

Oh fuck it’s good. He is good. Better than good, with his fingers working their magic. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tangled in his unruly locks. Breath flutters out his nostrils and onto your pubis. Your hips start pumping against his pretty face. You know he loves it when you just let go and let your body react. He starts groaning, his hips mimic yours, driving against the folds of the sheets under him. The fact that he is so turned on by eating your pussy is exhilarating. The vibrations of his moans send your pussy into overdrive. All of a sudden you are there; screaming, grunting, shaking under the magnificence that is Austin’s mouth. Pleasure floods your body. You writhe.  He shifts, letting go the suction and licks long, sensuous strokes along your quivering cunt. He flicks your clit at the top each time, making you shake in aftershocks, making you drip that much more. He closes his mouth wide over your pussy, sucking hard. Then, with a closed mouth he pushes up to his knees over you. His cock is rock hard and jutting out from his lean form. He is a fucking dream. He leans his head forward and dribbles a mixture of your juices and his spit onto his cock and into his hand. 

“God I miss doing that to you,” he moans.

You are panting, watching the sex god Austin stroke himself. His hooded eyes are brimming with desire and lust. 

“Touch yourself,” he commands, “I want to watch.” 

You immediately obey, your finger rubbing back and forth on your swollen clit.

“Yes, finger that clit, Princess,” it’s taking all he has not to slide into you, but he would never endanger your health like that. 

Your finger runs in circles around your clit.

“Pull your lips apart, I want to see it all,” his tone is intense, brooking no argument. 

You spread yourself for him and continue to circle your clit. Anything for Austin. He spits into his hand again, and continues to pump fiercely on his cock.

“Pull up, I want that little hood pulled back,” he is huffing, his face contorted and serious, “I want you to feel my hot cum as it hits your naked clit.” 

Oh. My. God. He has never said that, never done that. Your finger stops rubbing and pulls back your clitoral hood. The cooler air hits your exposed clit. You moan and clench. He watches as your pussy contracts, his breath hissing between his teeth. He glides hard on his cock. 

“Keep it up, don’t touch it.” His chest  expands in a deep, deep breath. His orgasmic groan begins as a rumble in his chest and blasts out his mouth in unrequited vowel sounds. Hot semen hits your vulnerable clit, it’s like fucking lightning. Your back arches and your hips shake, your orgasm is inches away. All you have to do is rub… but he told you not to. 

Suddenly and unexpectedly,  his mouth is sucking on you and hard. His tongue rubbing in his cum, back and forth over your clit. Your climax explodes over you like fireworks. You are so fucking lit.  Your spine and hips jerk, bouncing you on the bed.   He rides you down, lapping up his cum from you. Then he is over you, kissing you deeply with a mouthful of his own, sweet cum. It’s intoxicating, mind blowing, hallucinatory and nearly makes you orgasm again. You swallow every drop, curling your tongue into his mouth, desperate to get it all into you.

He pulls away shaking, having given you the same cum a second time. Clearly he found it just as electrifying. 

“Fuck that was unbearably hot, Princess,” he pants.

Your head shakes as you nod up and down, still completely aroused. You pull his fingers between your legs. 

“Rub Austin, please,” you beg. 

Austin can’t resist it when you beg like that. 

You spend the rest of the day either in bed, in the bath or in the kitchen. Austin made you cum in all of them. Orgasm Day, you’d come to call it, your own personal annual holiday.  Now, only 4 more weeks and the medical ‘ok’ until you get to feel his thick cock stretching your tight little pussy. Until then, well it’s Austin’s cum for breakfast, Austin’s cum for dinner and Austin’s cum for a midnight snack. 

[pippin-pippout]

So I dragged myself kicking and screaming and, yes, mostly in denial, through the last episodes of A Journey to Love.

My thoughts can be summarized as follows:

Obviously this is mainly due to me being horrifically traumatized by Yuan Lu’s death. After all, they told us from the get go he wouldn’t live to 20. They made it clear he had a deadly heart disease. And then. They had the nerve. They had the audacity. They had the actual fucking bahoonga BALLS to follow through!?

But then I found myself sobbing at literally every good guy death scene, plus all of the mourning scenes. The latter was in large part thanks to Alen Fang's acting - deepest apologies to him for just referring to his character as 'the slutty one' for the majority of the show. Not that I was wrong. Also thanks to strong performances from He Lan Dou for Yuan Lu's death.

Anyway so I need to add this gif x4 for the Liudao Hall babies:

Qian Zhao, da ge, who made mistakes but always did right in the end

Sun Lang, who just wanted to hold something fluffy at the end, dying a hero

Yuan Lu, who died in his princess's arms after running to deliver a letter rendered useless by the Emperor of An's greed.

Yu Shisan, who lived as he lived and had such a happy moment with Chu Yue right before it all became irrevocable.

When they added Yu Shisan to the snowball fight, I just about lost it. Liu Yuning's acting there - having the realization about Shisan's death as he watched them play in real time was so well done. Really hurt.

Plus I'll make a couple of versions with edits.

For the Wu Emperor. I knew it was gonna happen from the spoilers but damn, him genuinely learning the value of friendship and brotherly love made me root for him. Dude did not deserve to go out like that. Thank goodness for the magic of CDramas where he lived just long enough to pass on his will to Ning Yuanzhou, and do one last act of good.

It also ensured Duke of Chu was able to pass on his command to his daughter, Chu Yue, before dying of the same (was not clear if her bro died or not, or if dad was always going to choose her).

And for Deng Hui. Started out thinking he was just a sexist bastard. Turns out he was one of the most principled characters in the show.

Their deaths didn't make me cry, but I respect them.

Also loved Chen Du Ling's (Empress of Wu) small part in this. I may not like all of her characters but she can deliver a scene and hold a room. It was a bit cathartic to see her put every man in their place, and basically decide the fate of two countries, even though her lament that she'd only ever have power through another held true.

Ah Ying, my baby girl. This is a character that could have turned people off from the beginning. Thanks to strong writing and stronger acting, it did not. I was super impressed with He Lan Dou. She can dial it up and dial it down in a single take, and can play big dramatic scenes with a subtlety that some older actors cannot grasp. This was the first thing I've seen her in, though for her and Chen You Wei (Yuan Lu) I might watch Tiger and Crane if someone tells me it's good.

I still think Li Tongguang is a perverted and creepy child, who never managed to learn (except in literally the last ep), but at least I trust that he will treat Ah Ying well. I don't hold it against him for screwing up the battle - he was trying to be benevolent but made a bad choice.

The main couple win it for me this year. What an inspired pairing. They beat out heavy hitters including Bai Lu x Everyone which was near impossible. Something to do with letting Liu Shi Shi use Liu Yuning's height against him at every possible moment. Also the 'if you die, I'll finish the job and then follow you' is my favorite dynamic. I swear when Ruyi threw those bombs, NOT NEEDING TO HAVING ALREADY SUCCEEDED AT KILLING THE KING AND PRINCE, just to join him, y'all I died. Good for whoever posthumously gave her the Marquis title on her own (not just furen) - couldn't tell if it was Li Tongguang acting as regent or Dayang (great shot of those two at the end).

The final episode was one of the best final cdrama episodes I've seen. I might have to make another post about that. In sum, despite losing a large portion of the well-loved cast, the remainder gave a world-class finale. The visuals were incredible (explosions are my favorite). The final scene was beautiful (though I'm a bit surprised they gave it to Chu Yue instead of Ah Ying who knew all 6 of them closely).

[hustlemeanokay]

The Ghoul v. Lucy v. Maximus Fallout *TV* Fandom Discord

I put "Fallout TV Fandom" discord because well... I've been in the FO fandom for years now and this whole implied racism thing is something new, at least from what I've seen and I've seen a lot in the fandom. This is something that honestly hasn't had a place. Because, there are Ghouls for starters, Synths second, and Zealots galore third in the games. Also, also - the games are set up for the players to assume that the Chinese (the "Red Menace") are this world's punching bag. So, this whole... people shipping Lucy with the Ghoul automatically equals racism thing? Yeah, I don't buy it.

Before I go any further, I want to put a disclaimer here - I'm a huge supporter of shipping all the ships. If you ship Lucy x Max, yaaas honey, get it. If you ship the Ghoul x Lucy, right onnnn, wooo! If you ship the Ghoul x Max?! Rock on, you do you, dude! Poly ship? The more the merrier! Seriously, ship all the ships. Now... as I was saying....

I don't buy it... for one big reason and this is it:

Fallout fandom ❤s Ghouls. For years now, Ghouls with attitude or tragic backstories immediately catch the attention of the fandom and are automatically slotted into the "THIS DUDE WINS" category.

[and this got really long so more below the cut so I don't clog up the dashboard]

The moment "the Ghoul" showed up with his cowboy get up and snarky attitude, smirk, and badass strut? Poor Max didn't have a snowball's chance in hell. And it had nothing to do with Max. Nothing at all. He could be this awesome character, he could be anything and everything and it wouldn't matter. Because a smartass Ghoul with a tragic backstory and a secret heart of gold? Forget-a-bout-it. Hook line and sinker for the FO fandom.

Personally? Team Coop all the way. And I'll tell ya why. I personally cannot stand the Brotherhood of Steel. And Max is just as in it as Danse ever was, or any of the other initiates. He is in it. And I get why. I totally get it. Also, he's a coward. He knows how to manipulate people, good intentioned or not. And he uses it. But he uses it in this kind of... sneaky way. He had lots of golden opportunities to tell Lucy the truth about who he was, including when they first spoke. She would have been none the wiser on what happened to his Knight (because fuck that guy, Titus was an asshole). But he chose to keep lying. For no reason other than it made him feel important. Lying to protect someone, their feelings or literally. Lying to preserve a secret that isn't yours, etc. Yeah, shitty a little but yeah, okay. But lying to literally make yourself better? When there's no need for that shit? Na.

Now, I know the arguments in the for column for Max. I get it. I do. He's a product of his environment, as are we all. But, he's kind of a loser. In that, he gets this big bad suit of power armor because to him that represents being a hero. And he thinks he's going to like go out and stop crime with it. Sure, a little juvenile but whatevs, that's completely fine. But, he almost immediately starts showing off for a pretty girl - which admittedly, probably not something he's seen a lot of (and Lucy's no better here with her big ol' anime eyes flashing hearts at him). But the point is... there are people around and Max is just laying waste to that place just as bad as the Ghoul is, with zero regard for collateral damage. Granted, no one got hurt, but that's not the point. The point is, if he was about the whole "knight" thing? He's completely missing the mark. Yes, I believe the BoS is corrupt ten ways to Sunday but that doesn't mean Max does. He's supposed to believe in things like honor and what it means to be a knight etc. The things he's been taught on top of the whole "seek out old world tech". Now, Max is funny - I will give him that. He's hilarious but at the same time - kind of one note. And again, product of his environment. But when he comes up on Lucy and her Dad, as it's been pointed out before, he doesn't even stop to see what's going on. He just frees Henry and doesn't even think. But that's the core of who he is. He acts first, thinks later. A lot of people are like that. Lucy is like that when she first leaves the vault. Both her and Max have been sheltered, in different ways but still sheltered. Difference between them is that Lucy is adapting and growing, learning.

So, you take this naïve, kinda boring Brotherhood of Steel sorta-Knight and pitch him against the Ghoul. Two hundred year old druggie who is like this strange combo of all of the fandom's most beloved Ghouls to date. There was no contest. To see this man who's been twisted by everything this world has thrown at him, who has sunk behind a role so far that it's not even an act anymore just to protect himself from all of it take on the Wasteland with now a dog and Lucy with him. Mister travels alone now not traveling alone? Of course people are gonna eat that shit up.

Now, personally, I think a future society, especially an apocalyptical one like Fallout, it would basically have nothing but tan people, where everyone is just a mix of everything because when you're facing down something like a fifteen foot tall fucking chameleon with razors for claws (deathclaw) - suddenly, race doesn't seem like that much of a fucking issue.

BUT I digress, a lot - point is... I think if it was Cooper Howard vs. Maximus? Max would win overall. But... the Ghoul vs. Maximus? There was no way Max ever had a shot. (With regards to shipping).

Also, also... on a final note.

[why-the-heck-not]

how do you study/code everyday? Genuinely asking, like how do you maintain focus and not get distracted or stop when it gets hard? Ignore the following question if you live your major and school and all that: how do you not get sad? And if you do what do you do when that happens?

With love and admiration, a fellow computer science student who is struggling so much

Heyy and thank you for the ask!

Honestly, I get very distracted a whole lot. Like 50% of my days are procrastination bc I don’t want to do things. And I don’t study every day, but most days just bc I’m bad at taking full days off bc of The Guilt lol. Waking up early has helped me a ton, bc even if I procrastinate the morning bc don’t want to start doing things, it’ll still be early. The annoying thing to say, but it rly does feel like u have more hours in a day that way.

For stopping when it gets hard: I have this one playlist that’s like 30mins long, and everytime I wanna give up, I put that on, and it’s like a ”okay just gotta work until this playlist stops”-thing. And sometimes I do just stop after bc I’m getting nowhere, but sometimes that ”permission” to stop doing things actually makes me want to get them done. And sometimes u luck out and figure out the thing in that 30mins. (Sure a timer would work as well but I time my time with music a lot of times idk)

And yeah I get sad, bc like who doesn’t. Idk, I feel like the key is to try move on the second u can. You had ur bad days and can’t do anything abt that now, so wallowing & feeling guilty about that is not gonna do anything. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and a week or so won’t ruin things. Trying to not get stuck in it, the cycle of ”I’ve fucked this up ohno” and getting more depressed from that and then continuing to not being able to do anything is very real. At that point, u gotta remind urself that any little bit helps (if that’s either towards the school things or like washing piled up dishes; anything to move anything along helps to get urself out).

Also big thing that has helped me; no social media when it gets bad !! All that ”respect the grind” ”that girl” ”grind mindset” etc. makes it feel way more shitty. But also the mental health awarness side sometimes makes it too easy to be ”yeah so im sad, im not going to even try to do anything” (it’s fine obv when u just can’t, but when u notice 2 years have gone by bc ”i’m just having a bad day today” everyday, it’s no longer selfcare). So idk, what helps for me is to have the bad days just by myself in the bubble and at some point getting up and doing a thing. Which sometimes/usually snowballs into a couple things. And never underestimate the power of taking a good long shower. Everything seems more doable after a shower idk why. Also I think I say this in about every ask but WALKS !! Are so good !!!!! For everything !!

[ven0moir]

Mike Wheeler is a liar, your honor.

im not the only one who noticed the benny/mike "good samaritan" parallels, right?

Benny and Mike both showed the audience what it looks like when someone cares about someone who might need help in the show.

What's most significant to me from these parallels is ... this:

Benny and Mike, imo, were paralleled ever since they both first saw Eleven. The only difference is the context; but even though Benny was fully lit and it was daytime he still mistook El for a boy

We NEVER see the boys initial reaction to her, by the time we jump to the house they have already figured out El is a girl.

So, if I am right about this, this specific sentence:

is a flat out lie. Mike could not have loved El 'right then and there, in that moment' because he thought that El was a boy.

A SPECIFIC BOY if you ask me. I sincerely think that Mike thought El was Will for a split second. And I think the relief associated to that thought is what led to that "love at first sight" feeling and the whole 'i feel like my life started that day we found you in the woods' sentiment.

But this is just me. Who knows, maybe the Duffers really are just shitty writers and they never intended for it to be That Deep but honestly they could've just have Mike say "I knew I loved you that night we danced together at the Snowball" and I bet you Milevens would've ate it up even more, especially if you get a flashback to the dance scene.

As someone who never liked Mileven, I'd have been like 'yeah, whatever, they're endgame' but the way that they approached Mileven in s4 makes me REALLY think that there's more to this whole ass mess than meets the eye.

And even if we do not ever get Mike's sexuality confirmed, I doubt that they fucked up Mileven AND Byler so bad without a proper payoff in sight.

[seriousbrat]

I cannot tell how delighted I am that my little list of questions snowballed into full-blown discussions of awkward teenage sexual and romantic experiences. So once again, I'll bite:

What about Snape?

Did he have crushes? (apart from the obvious one)

Did he ever have a crush on a teacher?

I won't ask if he died a virgin, not only because life fucked him in every possible way, but also because you wrote my favourite take on Snape's first sexual experience. Wanna use it as a hook to elaborate on his sexuality throughout his adult life?

Could he have left his own trail of broken hearts, but was perhaps too wrapped up in his own insecurities and grievances to notice? Even Neville managed to take a date to the Yule Ball after all.

Yes, you absolutely started the Slutty Sirius discourse on this blog and you should be proud! I've had a great time with it, personally.

I love to answer questions about Snape, so here goes:

Did he ever have crushes? Obviously, I think his infatuation with Lily was so consuming for him that he would generally not have paid much attention to other girls while he was at Hogwarts. In his mind, nobody could ever compare. That being said, I think he would certainly have observed that other girls were attractive. In my fic, the relationship he has with a girl called Nicola Selwyn develops in a pretty interesting way throughout the years, and I think if Lily hadn't been in the picture he might have allowed that to be a more full-fledged crush.

As you mentioned, and is clear in my fic, I'm kind of a Snetunia truther, but I don't think he ever actually liked Petunia. This might sound crazy, but I think the only other real crush he had, apart from Lily, was Narcissa Malfoy. It was nowhere near as strong, obviously, he was never in love with Narcissa. But I get the vibe from their HBP interaction that he was attracted to her, and that's how I write them-- Severus having an unspoken attraction to her from the moment he met her. He'd never presume to do anything about it, but because Narcissa was beautiful coupled with the fact that she was nice to him (nicer, in fact, than most other DE-adjacent people) meant that he did allow himself to feel that attraction to someone other than Lily.

While I'm also a Snulciber/Bisexual King Severus truther, I don't think Sev was really aware of the fact. So I do believe that in many ways what he felt towards Mulciber was an attraction/a crush I just don't think he'd have been very aware of it, and therefore it wouldn't have grown into a full-blown infatuation.

Did he ever have a crush on a teacher? I don't think so, largely because he was so focused on Lily while he was at school. And I don't think any teacher employed at Hogwarts would have fulfilled his lofty criteria, honestly. While I really don't think that Charity Burbage was Sev's friend when they were at school, I can believe that he might have found her attractive while they were both teachers together.

As for his sex life as an adult lol, I mean I think Snape was always careful about who he let in. I don't think he died a virgin, even if what happens in my fic hadn't happened I think as an adult who was more sure of himself he'd have found a way. lmao THANK you for saying that you enjoyed that take on Sev's first experience because I also highly enjoyed writing it. But I think it would have taken him a few years after Lily's death to even consider it-- remember that Snape grew up in a Muggle town, so I think he'd be more likely to go out and find a random Muggle woman who he could forget about the next day than anyone who could possibly have anything to do with his life as a wizard.

I don't think he'd ever allow himself to have a relationship, though. His guilt about what he did to Lily defines his entire life. As we know, he never got over it. So maybe he'd tried it a couple of times, seen that it didn't help but made everything worse, and eventually gave up on the idea entirely.