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frenchkisstheabyss · 14 hours ago

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♡ ｓｗｅｅｔｎｅｒ ♡

♡ Pairing: couple!woosan x best friend!fem!reader, best friend!ateez

♡ Genre: fluff/smut/angst

♡ Summary: After a terrible breakup two of your dearest friends welcomed you into their home. Living with them has been a total dream so far, one that has you developing feelings you aren't quite ready to face but, when a dinner with your friend group forces you to confront those feelings, you realize that you might not be the only one who has them.

♡ Word Count: 6.8kish

♡ Warnings: woo and san are indeed a couple, boys kissing, kissing in general, drinking, threesome, lots of praise, unprotected sex, soft dom woosan, oral sex (m&f receving), some clit play, nipple play, nibbling, hickeys, a lil manhandling, double penetration, creampie, swallowing, finger sucking, some booty slaps, overstimulation, squirting, pet names (sweetie, baby, sweetheart, good girl, etc), and that's all darlings.

♡ A/N: I really wanted to write a nice, warm lil comfort fic and this was the result of that. As I always say, I hope you sweet baby darlings enjoy this. Especially my WooSan babes out there.

When you first decided to move in with Wooyoung and San everyone warned you that it might not be the best idea. The two of them had been dating for years at that point and, though you knew them just as long, being best friends with a couple is much different than living with one. They had their own habits, their own unique dynamic, and the introduction of a single woman into the mix might have thrown it off in ways that irreversibly damaged your friendship.

For all the worries that people planted into your brain, the reality of the situation was drastically different. From the night you moved your last box into their spare bedroom you felt like you were home. They were doing you a major favor, letting you move in after a terrible breakup with your ex, but they never made you feel like it. Instead they welcomed you with open arms, immediately jumping to do everything in their power to make sure you felt comfortable.

During those first few weeks you made it a point to shrink yourself, not wanting to take up too much space or get in their way. They quickly reassured you that it wasn’t necessary. If they didn’t want you there you wouldn’t have been there. You could take up as much space as you wanted, get in their way whenever you pleased. They were just happy to have you.

Before you knew it the three of you were doing everything together. Cooking each other breakfast before work, curling up on the couch for movie nights, staying up late to talk about whatever popped into your heads. It reached the point that you hardly had to make your own bed because of the endless nights you found yourself dozing off in theirs.

Woo and San always treated you like a princess, living with them wasn’t a requirement for that, but after you moved in it got so much worse. You had to argue them down to let you do dishes or wash your own clothes. You didn’t even try when it came to carrying in bags after grocery shopping. You knew if you did you’d never hear the end of it from either of them. Even now as you sit at the elegantly decorated table of an upscale restaurant—all of your closest friends gathered for the usual Saturday night dinner—they won’t let you lift a finger.

With Woo on one side of you and San on the other, you only have to extend your hand towards something you want and it's yours. A particularly crispy cut of pork belly catches your eye and before you know it Woo’s swooped it up with his chopsticks.

“Woo, you didn’t have to do that” you whisper beneath the chatter of conversation at the table.

“Hmm? Did you say something?” he asks, knowing very well that he heard you. He raises it to your lips, patiently waiting for you to take a bite.

You stare at it for a moment, refusing to eat it solely because of the entertainment that comes with testing Woo’s patience. San drapes his arm over the back of your chair, replenishing the tall crystal glass before you with sweet red wine.

“Eat it or he’ll get all sulky” San teases, cutting his eyes at his boyfriend whose lips have already begun to form a pout.

“I do not get sulky” Woo protests, indeed sulking. He’s cute when he does it, knowledge that he weaponizes every chance he gets.

You and San look at each other, sharing a giggle, before you give in and take a bite. Woo watches as you chew, making sure that you enjoy it. If you don’t he’ll get you another.

“Happy?” you smile once you’re done and Woo nods, returning his attention back to his own plate.

Across the table Hongjoong watches you curiously, something you’ve caught him doing all night. No one else seems to notice but for you it can’t be ignored. The two of you lock eyes and he asks you a question without words. You wish he’d use them, spit out whatever the hell is on his mind already, because the tension’s eating you alive.

“So does anyone know what we’re doing for New Year’s Eve or is it party at Seonghwa’s?” Yunho asks, gesturing for Jongho to hand him a dish.

Seonghwa frowns, his cheeks too packed full of food to speak clearly, “My house? Why my house?”

“Ooh, yeah, then I can come over and touch all your stuff” Mingi says, attempting to swipe some food from Seonghwa’s plate.

Seonghwa slaps him on the back of the hand with his chopsticks, “I’ll kill you.”

“We could all go camping,” Jongho suggests, “I know a really good spot for it.”

The table falls silent with the exception of Yeosang who nods in support of the younger man. “That’s…an idea.”

“We can host this year” San offers, flashing that dimpled smile, “We have the room for it.”

Hongjoong takes a sip of his wine, his icy glare falling upon you and only you. “Are you sure? Don’t you think your apartment’s gotten kinda crowded lately?”

The comment strikes a chord with Woo, his irritation apparent in how swiftly his demeanor shifts. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” he asks, chewing at his bottom lip.

“Nothing…it’s nothing” Hongjoong laughs, sitting back in his chair, “Maybe I should keep my comments to myself.”

“Maybe you should…” Woo snaps.

San clears his throat, rising from the table before the situation can escalate, “I have to go make a quick call. Baby, could you come with me?”

Woo doesn’t respond and he isn’t pretending to be hard of hearing this time. He and Hongjoong are having a staring contest. A silent war as violent as if someone had thrown a punch.

“Wooyoung!” San says with more bass in his voice this time. It’s enough to snap Woo out of it but he still lingers a moment before getting up himself.

Taking you by the hand, Woo stares down at you, searching your face for any sign that Hongjoong’s words hurt your feelings. “You’ll be okay?”

You nod, presenting him with a smile that you hope soothes him a bit. “I’m okay. Just go.”

San pets your hair, planting a kiss on your forehead, “Be back in a second.”

You watch as San walks Woo outside like a mother about to lay into her child for misbehaving. As calm as you’ve remained all night, you can’t hide your own irritation at the way Hongjoong’s been acting. It isn’t Woo’s fault that he decided to say something so rude. Whatever problem he has with you is with you. Woo and San shouldn’t be a part of it.

Turning back to the table you find that all conversation of a New Year’s Eve celebration has ended. Everyone’s dead silent, unsure of what to say, if there’s anything to say at all.

“If you have something to say to me, why not just say it?” you ask, “Or are we just intent on acting like children tonight?”

“This meal is delicious, isn’t it? Really. I know we come here all the time but there’s something about it tonight” Yunho interrupts in an attempt to keep the peace.

Seonghwa shakes his head at him, his own history as the peacemaker teaching him that it’s not worth it. When Hongjoong’s in a mood he’s in a mood and there’s nothing to be said about it.

Hongjoong shrugs, poking around at his plate, “I don’t have anything to say really. I’m just curious—I think we all are—about what’s going on here.”

Your eyebrows furrow in genuine confusion, “What are you talking about?”

Hongjoong looks to Woo’s seat then to San’s and right back at you, the girl at the center of it all. “I know we’re all close but the way you three have been acting lately goes a little beyond close. You can’t blame us for thinking…”

“Thinking what?” You look around the table, hoping that one of your friends will jump in and tell Hongjoong how silly he’s being. Instead they avert eye contact. They treat you like you’re a stranger and, in the world of the secret whisperings among them, that’s exactly what you are. It takes a moment for Hongjoong’s words to make sense. He said something without saying it and it’s clear he’s not the only person with that on the tip of their tongue.

The moment it hits you, your palms begin to sweat, the air around you growing hotter. You try your best to act clueless, pretending to have no idea where they’d get these ideas from. It’s not because you have anything to hide. Nothing has happened between the three of you and nothing will. But sometimes you’ve felt it—a tingle when Woo’s holding your hand or those butterflies when you’re cuddled up with San. It’s a purely platonic act on their part, there’s nothing more to it, but the feelings are there whether you like it or not and the idea that anyone else can see it is frightening.

“You can’t be serious. You don’t think…they’re my best friends, like we all are. There’s nothing…they don’t even like girls” you stutter, a shaky hand reaching for the neck of your wine glass.

Yeosang’s eyes widen at your declaration and he has to reach for a glass of water to keep from choking on his food.

Mingi quirks his head at you, shooting a quick glance at Hongjoong. “Who told you that?”

“Told me what?”

Jongho laughs to himself, tickled by this exchange. “That they don’t like girls.”

“But they don’t. They’re gay.”

“Oh, honey” Hongjoong sighs, letting up on you for the first time tonight, “We thought you were just playing it up. You really are clueless.”

You open your mouth to say something more, you aren’t even sure what that is, but the feeling of San’s hand on your shoulder makes you swallow your words.

“What are we talking about?” he asks, taking his seat at your side. He looks to you only, picking up on your nervousness in an instant. His face turns serious and you place a gentle hand on his knee, softening him if only a bit.

“Everything okay?” you ask, swiftly changing the subject.

San leans in closer to you, pinning you down to your seat without even touching you. “I don’t know, is it?”

Woo swats him away from you, having already gotten his fill of his boyfriend’s lecturing outside. He doesn’t need him doing it to you too. “San, please. You told me I had to play nice. That goes for both of us, doesn’t it?”

San backs off, as much as he hates to do it. He knows something is up but, at the risk of being a hypocrite, he lets it go. The conversation quickly switches back to discussions about parties—who else they’ll invite and who’ll do all the cooking—yet you can’t bring yourself to care about any of it. In your mind there’s only a loop of Hongjoong’s comment.

“Oh, honey. We thought you were just playing it up. You really are clueless.”

“You’ve had too much to drink. I’m driving you home” Jongho says, stealing Mingi’s car keys.

“I’m fine. Trust me.” Mingi makes a half-hearted attempt at stealing them back but he’s in no shape to do it. He’s swaying back and forth, his cheeks tinted a rosy pink courtesy of those last three shots of soju.

Gathered outside of the restaurant, your group lingers by the door, saying your goodbyes and trying to reel in the drunkest among you. It’s a clear night, the type that's perfect for counting stars, but you’re too busy freezing to revel in the magic of it. Earlier you left your jacket in the car, not thinking much of it until you stumbled out of the restaurant into an actual freezer.

San slips out of his jacket, draping it over your shoulders and giving your arms a quick rub to warm them up. “Look after this for me while I go grab the car.”

As San ventures off to find the car, Woo steps in front of you, coming in close to block the wind.

“Goodnight you two” Hongjoong sings, winking at you over Woo’s shoulder.

You groan and Woo lets out a skeptical “Goodnight” waving to the others until there’s only the two of you left. When his gaze drifts back to you, you try not to make eye contact but you can’t resist it. His eyes shimmer so gorgeously in the moonlight that it’s impossible not to be taken by them.

Rubbing his hands together, he presses them to your cheeks, squishing them together enough that you look like a little fish. Definitely the cutest fish he’s ever seen. It was his intention to warm you up but he has no clue how hot you burn for him, as hard as you try to fight it.

“I don’t know if I told you this but you look beautiful tonight” he says, taking you in from head to toe, “That dress especially. It's lovely”

The dress in question, a black lace up mini dress, is indeed lovely. You’d ordered it on a whim during a late night shopping session and have been dying to wear it for weeks. When San suggested that you all match for dinner tonight, black on black all the way, you figured there was no time like the present. It’s more revealing than you’re used to and some part of you questioned if you should wear it or not but Woo’s complement did all that was needed to melt your doubts away.

“You do too” you blush, straightening out his tie, “You look fancy.”

Woo tries to play it off but it’s always much too obvious when he’s flattered. “I try. You’ll always be the prettiest one in the room but I have to try to give you some competition, don’t I?”

“Are you attempting to flatter me, Wooyoung?”

Woo moves closer to you, his breath tickling your face as he speaks, “I don’t know. Am I?”

It’s back. That tingle you feel whenever Woo does something like this. You feel it in the tips of your fingers and your toes. Soon it’ll spread everywhere else, overtaking you, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. The longer he stares at you the worse it’ll be. He’s sealing your fate, damning you to a night spent trying to chase these feelings away.

“Are you gonna get in or do you two plan to walk home?” San shouts, honking the horn.

You let out a sigh of relief. You’ve been saved. Just barely.

“Does your boyfriend know you’re picking up men from random street corners?” Woo jokes, turning to greet San.

San leans over, pushing the passenger’s side door open, “I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

Woo laughs, doubling back to grab you, “You ride in the front tonight, okay, beautiful?”

It’s a question that isn’t a question. You always ride shotgun—they insist upon it—so you hop into the car before Woo’s tempted to scoop you up and set you in there himself. He will do it.

Tossing himself into the back, Woo slams the door closed, spreading out across the seat as the car hums down the city street. It’s a quiet, peaceful ride and it only occurs to you after a few minutes that it’s strangely quiet. There’s always a debrief after dinner. Woo never misses out on the chance to gossip with you and San lives for it even though he’s fond of pretending he doesn’t but tonight’s different. Something’s off.

You switch on the radio, hoping that the introduction of a little music will keep your mind from wandering, but San flicks it off the moment that you do.

“When we came back to the table, what were you talking about?” he asks, catching you off guard. San’s not the type to let things go, you’ve always known that, but you thought maybe this time you'd luck out. You thought wrong.

Woo sits up, combing his dark hair back from his face, “San, don’t start.”

“I’m not starting” he swears, “I’m just curious. Don’t tell me you aren’t.”

“Well…” Woo muses, cutting his eyes over at you, “It would be nice to know. I mean, we don’t keep secrets from each other, right?”

You stare out of the window, unable to face either of them. Woo’s right, you don’t keep secrets. Maybe a long time ago it would’ve been forgivable to keep some things to yourself but now? The three of you have gotten so close that it seems almost blasphemous to lie to them.

“The guys think that there’s something going on between the three of us…” you spill out and you’d swear you sucked all of the air from the car.

“Oh…”

That’s all you’re left with. Now you have to look at them. You have to see their faces and know that you haven’t upset them. “I told them that there wasn’t though! The only thing between us is friendship. That’s it.”

“Is that what you told them or is that how you feel?” Woo asks and San does nothing to stop him.

You let out a nervous laugh, convinced that he’s messing with you. “Woo, I’m being serious.”

San takes a deep breath, fingers tapping at the steering wheel as you approach a red light. “So are we.”

“So…” Woo says, his words more deliberate this time, “Is that what you told them or is that how you feel?”

There’s so much weight to that question—almost too much for you to handle. After your breakup you were a total wreck. It felt like someone had torn your heart out and ripped it to pieces. How couldn’t it belong to them when they were the ones who put it back together?

“What if what I feel is wrong?” you ask, the rush of emotion forcing your voice to crack.

San holds his hand out to you and you feel a sense of calm wash over you as you take it. He interlocks his fingers with yours, planting slow sweet kisses along the back of your hand. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you feel, sweetheart.”

Woo caresses your cheek, his chin propped up on the back of your chair as he studies you from the backseat. “We feel it too” he sighs, taken by your beauty, “You’re an easy girl to fall for.”

“Woo” you giggle, your gaze falling to your lap where your free hand’s fidgeting with the lace trim of your dress.

“Stop it, baby, you’re embarrassing her” San says, coming to your rescue as usual.

“Embarrassing her how? She knows how perfect she is” Woo coos, pinching your cheek, “I tell her everyday.” Settling back into his seat, he digs his phone out of his pocket, flicking it on to scroll through his notifications.

San winks at you, raising your hand to his lips to give it one last kiss. He goes back to driving so casually that you’re left wondering if everything that just happened was all in your head. It’s the strangest thing, how they can be so laid back about a confession that’s turned your world upside down—changed everything you knew in an instant. Maybe it’s because they always knew.

When Woo and San first met they knew the two of them belonged together. Their bond was something they never had to question, it simply was the way things were supposed to be. And when you entered the picture it was no different. You moving in only cemented it. You belonged there with them—in their home, in their arms. They’d love you, protect you, do everything in their power to put a smile on that beautiful face.

Just like the one you have now. The one Woo keeps catching in the rearview mirror and San keeps seeing out of the corner of his eye. Woo wasn’t lying. You are a very easy girl to fall for. They’re doing it right now.

To anyone who knows you, visiting your apartment makes for a fun game. Your arrival here led to a little redecorating on Woo and San’s part. They insisted on moving some things around to make room for what you loved. If you saw a lamp you wanted, if there was a painting you had your eye on, anything at all and it was yours.

So whenever one of the guys is over and a new piece is spotted they like to bet who it belongs to. An easy task at first, it’s grown much more difficult over time. “It’s like you’re becoming the same person” Yeosang will say in a spooky voice, experiencing what might be actual fear of who’s becoming a clone of who. He loves you all but multiples of any of you is a recipe for disaster.

Your friends’ teasing aside, you love the place you call home. This cozy two bedroom is a seamless fusion of the three of you. It’s your safe place. Where you all run back to for comfort after a long day out in the world. All night it’s sat undisturbed, awaiting your return, and your grand entrance doesn’t disappoint.

The apartment door pushes open, flooding the dimly lit apartment with a choppy but spirited rendition of one of Woo’s favorite songs. He’s been playing it nonstop for the past two weeks and during the last half of the ride home he stole the aux cord to force you both to listen. Blame the alcohol or call it brainwashing but you and San were feeling it tonight. So much that you sang and danced your way from the parking garage, probably waking up the whole neighborhood.

Singing a lyric even you’re shocked you remember, you do a little shuffle, kicking your heels off at the door. San does a shimmy behind you, dropping his next to yours. Woo grabs you by the arm, pulling you into his, and you bring San right along with you. You’ve had enough of these late night dance sessions—more than any of you will admit—for your bodies to be totally in sync as you dance around the apartment.

Taking you by the hand, San twirls you in a circle and that last sip of wine kicks in immediately, the room still spinning even after you’ve stopped. Luckily Woo’s quick on his feet, catching you from behind.

“Clumsy much?” he cackles, arms looped around your waist.

You spin around, scrunching your face up at him, “Do you think you’re funny? Cause you’re not.”

You feel San’s arms close around you from the other side. His muscles make every hug a bear hug and you’ve never minded one bit.

“You’re prettier when you aren’t being a brat” he says, fingertips tracing the immaculate outline of Woo’s cheek.

Woo nuzzles into his touch like a cat being scratched at just the right spot. “So you think I’m pretty?”

“And a brat” San makes a point of saying, “But pretty? Definitely.”

Woo and San flirting is nothing new to you, you’ve seen it enough that it doesn’t even phase you, but this is the first time you’ve ever been in the middle of it. Physically wedged between them, feeling their temperatures rise as San cups Woo’s face and leans in for a kiss.

Good manners dictate that you shouldn’t stare but you aren’t sure what else you can be expected to do. Their lips look so fluffy as they meet. They kiss each other with equal parts desire and restraint. Their longing for each other radiates off of them and soaks into you. But that longing’s not only theirs, it’s yours too. Something new has been awakened inside of you and it has your heart racing.

San draws in a breath as their lips part, a light chuckle leaving him at the star crossed look in your eyes. “You know…” he hums, his hand finding your throat, “We’ve always wondered what your lips taste like.” His thumb brushes your chin, tilting your head so that your lips graze his. “Can I taste them?”

A floaty “Yes” leaves your lips and time seems to slow to a crawl as he lulls you into a kiss that has the room spinning again. His lips are as soft as they appeared and he pours into you that same desire, that same longing. Restraint? Now that’s a different story. The deeper he kisses you—his tongue eagerly exploring your mouth—the harder it is to hold back.

“You can’t have her all to yourself” Woo says, tugging San’s hair to break the kiss, “I want some of her too.”

You hardly have a chance to recover from San’s kiss when Woo’s pressing his lips to yours, making you feel light headed all over again. He floods you with more of the same feelings but there’s something different about the way that he kisses you. He abandons any hope of containing his desires, his lips feverishly moving against yours. He hums at the taste of you, like you’re his new favorite dessert and all he wants is more.

“It’s getting late, Woo. I think we should go to bed. Don’t you?” San asks, running his fingers along your hips.

Woo nods, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Mmhmm.”

They slip away from you, heading for the hallway that leads to their bedroom. How cruel it is of them to just leave you standing here with your head all foggy and your cutest panties soaked through. You lean against the back of the couch, missing the contact but grateful for the chance to catch your breath. With all the air you were losing you might’ve fainted otherwise.

“Are you coming?” San calls out, lingering just outside of his bedroom. The light from the bedroom bathes the dark hallway in a warm glow that reflects off of San’s chest as he pops the buttons of his shirt open one by one.

You cross your legs, hoping to quiet the noise between them that’s only worsened at the sight of his bare skin. “Uh, yeah, I just, uh…have to get out of this dress first.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart” he smiles, amused by your shyness, “We can help with that.”

Your body moves as if it has a mind of its own. Each step towards him is so delicate you’d be forgiven for thinking that you floated your way to him. Placing a hand on the small of your back, San ushers you into the bedroom where an already shirtless Woo stands by the dresser fussing with his watch.

“Somebody need help with something?’ Woo asks, shaking his wrist free of the designer watch.

San brushes past you, tossing his own shirt onto the bed. “Her dress. She needs help getting out of it.”

Setting his watch down on the dresser, Woo crosses the room, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. He locks eyes with you, telling you to come to him without having to say it. There’s a pull to them. Like gravity holds you to the ground, your heart holds you to them. You’ve always felt it but tonight it’s infinitely stronger. They could call you to the moon and you’d find a way there.

“It really is a beautiful dress” Woo says, his hands tracing your figure the moment you’re within reach. He spreads his legs, bringing you in close enough to feel the tip of his nose graze the softness of your belly through the fabric. “It suits your figure well, not that a body like yours needs much help.” His palms come to rest at your hips, indulgent fingers massaging them as his thumbs ease the fabric higher and higher above your thighs.

“You’re always so sweet to me” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “If you’re not careful one day it’ll all go to my head.”

Pausing to admire the plushness of your thighs, he trails kisses along them, eyes flicking up to meet your gaze. “Good” he grins, pushing your dress above your waist. His hands slip back down to your thighs, another pair of hands gripping your dress from behind.

“You should let things get to your head more” San whispers into your ear, the defined muscles of his chest flush against your back. There’s something else pressed against you too. Something thick and hard poking into the tender flesh of your now exposed ass. Mindlessly you press back into it, breath hitching as you feel his need grow even stronger from your teasing.

“I think you let someone make you forget how special you are” Woo says, placing a kiss achingly close to your core, “But that’s okay. We’ll remind you.”

Woo’s tongue darts out, gliding up and down to taste you through panties already dripping with your essence. Easing your thighs apart, he tucks your panties to the side, a solitary finger petting your slippery entrance. A pulse of warmth ripples through you, pooling right between your legs where the tip of Woo’s tongue has found your clit, twirling around the bundle of nerves so artfully that any remaining ability you had to think straight simply falls away. Looping an arm around your right thigh, he hoists it up, throwing it over his shoulder.

Instinctively you look down but gain only the briefest glimpse of his head diving between your thighs before your dress is flying over your head, slinking to the ground beside you. You didn’t wear a bra tonight, the dress wouldn’t allow you to, and San’s grateful for it. That’s one less thing between him and those breasts that bounce against your chest so deliciously. He captures them in his hands, feeling the weight of them against his palms.

“So soft” San mumbles, suckling at the fragrant skin of your neck.

Shaping your breasts beneath his touch, he takes two fingers and lightly strokes your nipples. You let out the sweetest, softest moan and he pinches your nipples, beyond pleased at how that moan falls apart on the tip of your tongue. For every moan you let out he pinches them harder, pushing you further, just to see how much you can take or how much you want to take.

Your head falls back and San kisses your neck with even more hunger than before, leaving a trail of marks behind that will no doubt be hickeys by morning. Tears decorate your lashes like constellations, the overstimulation wrecking every part of you.

“You’re clenching like crazy, sweetie. You want something to fill you up?” Woo asks, his finger still stroking your slit, torturing you with the possibilities.

You whine, hips attempting to sink down onto his finger, but San grips you tighter, forcing you to straighten up.

“You have such a pretty voice” San taunts, dipping a hand between your legs to play with your clit, “Use it. You want us to fill you up or not, baby?”

Your breaths quicken, body trembling as you grab onto San’s arm, nails raking his skin. “Ah, I want it, Sannie. I want you to fill me up, pretty please.”

“Oh, pretty please? How can we say no to that?” Woo grins, gathering your arousal with his fingertips. He eases further onto the bed, lying back to watch how his fingers glisten in the light. “Come here, sweetie.”

San slows his movements, kissing you tenderly as he lets you down gradually before placing you on the bed. You get on your hands and knees without being told, crawling up the bed until San grabs your hips, stopping you when your face hovers just above Woo’s waist.

Tangling his fingers in your hair, Woo tilts your head up, raising his soaked fingers to your honeyed lips. San’s hands collide with your plump ass, the sting making you cry out and forcing your lips to part just enough for Woo’s fingers to slip in between them. You’ve never tasted yourself before, it’s something you never dared to try, but as Woo coats your tongue in your own juices you find yourself enjoying it so much that you’re sucking on his fingers, praying for more.

Behind you San’s rubbing your ass to soothe the sting, his eyes glued to your dripping entrance. It’s been so long since he’s been with a woman that he’d forgotten how pretty a pussy could be and yours is without a doubt as pretty as they come. Your folds are so soft, your hole so needy and wet, that his cock’s straining against his zipper, aching to have you.

“Does your tongue feel this good when you do everything?” Woo asks when his fingers pop free from your mouth.

Placing your hand on the bulge that awaits inches from your face, you let your palm ride the outline of his cock. “Let me show you.”

Woo’s caught off guard by your boldness but it only makes him want you more. Unzipping his pants, there’s little you have to do to free him from his underwear. His cock’s eager to meet you, throbbing and leaking as you stroke his length. You circle the pink tip with your tongue, dragging it across the top to collect his arousal. Your fingers wrap around the base, keeping him in place as your lips wrap around his cock, stretching to take his thickness.

You’ve seen their cocks before, by accident of course, and somewhere in the filthiest corners of your mind you always wondered what it’d be like to have one in your mouth. Now you know and you love everything about it. How comfortably he fits in your mouth. How you can feel all the finer details of his cock with your tongue. And those noises he makes when the tip hits the back of your throat—moaning like he’s never felt anything better—are like music to your ears.

“San!” you want to cry out when he grabs you by your hips, thrusting his cock into you. Of course you can’t talk. With Woo’s cock shoved this far down your throat you can only mumble, drooling down his length while San’s pulsing against your walls. For a quick second, quicker than you can blink, your vision goes blurry. When San asked if you wanted to be full he meant full. Bottomed out, stretched to the brink, feeling all of him with nothing left to desire.

San leans forward, kissing along your spine. “You took me so well, baby. You’re being such a good girl for us tonight.”

He snaps his hips into you again and you arch your back, causing him to slam right into your sweet spot. You tremble and he knows he’s found it, the one spot that’s gonna make you unravel for him. You’re in no position to see him—in fact, you’re in the perfect position not to—but it makes him happy. He’s determined to make you feel good, every stroke of his cock dedicated to making you lose it.

But he can’t begin to ignore how good this feels for him too. Your walls are velvety and smooth, clinging to him as he glides in and out of your tight little hole. Each time he thrusts into you the force travels through your perfect figure, bouncing you right back onto him. San knows he’s bottomed out but somehow you seem to be sucking him in deeper, his abs tightening at the tension already building in his abdomen.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Look at you” San groans, pulling back enough to see the juices trickling out of you.

Gripping the blanket with one hand, you try to use all of your strength to prop yourself up but you can’t. San’s thrusts are too powerful, the pleasure’s too strong, and your body’s going limp. Cupping your fluffy cheeks, Woo pets them, pressing his cock even further down your throat. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll take care of you. Just let go.”

Releasing your hold on the blanket, you do your best to let go of it—of everything. Your muscles begin to relax, the full weight of your body falling into their hands. Between them they develop a rhythm, pleasing your holes in perfect synchronicity. You’re dripping from both ends, clenching and sucking, moaning and whining. You’re a perfect little mess. Everything they could ever ask for.

There’s something ethereal about being between the two of them. Your body feels light, like you're floating somewhere else but you’re right here with them. Not being fucked, being made love to. Being treated like every part of your body is this sacred thing that they’re so grateful to have.

“I wish you could see yourself right now” San sighs, running his hands down your sides, “Our pretty girl.”

Their pretty girl. It does something to you to be called that. It breaks you in a million ways. All the best ones. A swell of energy builds in your body, like a tree growing and spreading its branches out to the furthest reaches of your form.

“Mmmm…” you whine, heavy lids rising to flash those gorgeous glassy eyes up at Woo.

San feels your hips stutter and catches you, keeping you steady. “You ready to cum, baby?”

You nod, puffy lips still too tightly wound around Woo’s cock to make out words. Could you if he even let you?

“That’s it. Cum all over Sannie’s cock” Woo coos, his thumb brushing your quivering bottom lip, “Just like that. Good girl.”

Your mind goes blank, void of the faintest thought of anything. You’re caught in the ecstasy of your high, walls fluttering as you squirt down San’s cock. He quickens his thrusts, prolonging your orgasm long enough that when his finally hits you’re still pulling him in, milking him of every drop of cum he has.

Riding out his high, San pushes you forward, forcing your lips to meet the base of Woo’s cock. Woo raises his hips, sloppy movements bringing him closer and closer to the edge until he’s spilling down your throat, filling your cheeks with warm white liquid. He slips out of your mouth and you collapse onto his stomach, gasping for air as you try to recall which planet you’re on.

Completely spent, a dizzy San collapses on the bed beside his boyfriend, intentionally leaving enough room for you. “Are you sleeping there tonight?” he teases.

“No” you pout, motioning to hit him on the arm but making no impact at all. It’s like trying to punch someone in a dream. Nothing.

San catches your arm, pulling you into the space between them. “Are you usually violent after your orgasms?”

Woo tucks an arm around you, lovingly kissing your shoulder. “Not that we’re complaining. I’ve been known to like a little slap sometimes.”

“I’ll remember that next time” you promise, responding to his kiss with one of your own to the bridge of his nose. Turning to San, you kiss him on the cheek, giggling at how his face lights up at the sweet gesture.

Settling into each other’s embrace, the chatter quiets but not awkwardly so. There’s a sense of peace in each other’s company. A comfort in this newfound feeling of completion. All this time you’ve been together but never quite in the way that any of you wanted. There was always a barrier, something unspoken keeping you from letting your true feelings show, and now that’s melted away leaving only the three of you together.

“Baby” San whispers after some time has passed. Your head’s resting on his chest and he rubs your cheek, signaling to you that he needs to get up. “I’m gonna go run us a shower, okay?”

He sits up, ready to hop out of bed, when you throw your arms around him and drag him back down. “No. You whine” throwing on your best baby face, “You stay.”

“Oh my god. I have two of you now” he laughs, too soft for you to resist your pouting.

“Oh? You have me now?”

Woo props himself up on his elbow, head resting in the palm of his hand. “Don’t we?” he asks, drawing on your naked body with his fingertips. The question is playful but there’s a seriousness to it that can’t be ignored.

You let the question sink in, realizing for the first time that you don’t have to pretend anymore. “Yes, you have me” you sigh, batting your pretty doe eyes.

“It’s settled then. You’re all ours” San smiles, cuddling back up beside you.

Woo lays back down, nestling his face against your neck. “I like the sound of that.”

Your bodies fit back together like the pieces of a puzzle. Everything about this feels right. Every small moment so special. There’s romance in each other’s breaths. Intimacy in even the faintest brush of your skin against theirs as you shift in the bed. You could stay here forever. And you intend to.

#ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez fluff #ateez smut #choi san x you #choi san x reader #choi san fluff #choi san smut #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff

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ylangelegy · 1 day ago

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omg "what? me? jealous? never." with junhui please! 🫶🫶

ⵌ actor!jun x actress!reader. ⵌ word count: 988. ⵌ notes: co-stars, secret relationship, pet names ('pretty girl'), suggestive joke, all my favorite tropes in a drabble. i miss this man sooo bad.

Jun loves award shows.

He loves having an excuse to dress up, loves getting to interact with other groups a little more openly, loves the special stages they get to put on. And if his gorgeous girlfriend happens to be a special emcee, well— that only makes it a much better night.

He's not allowed to be too excited, of course. He's always careful not to blow his cover. At most, the boys just seem to assume that you're his favorite co-star.

If only they knew that Jun's had the privilege of your heart for the past couple of years.

There's a bit of a thrill in sneaking around, in having to pull out his acting chops. Tonight, Jun lies about having to go to the bathroom, fields Minghao's invites for accompaniment, and navigates through all the other tables. Your text had been the only prompting he needed. It's like a waltz; his eyes on your back, the distance he keeps.

You side step in to a corner, behind a curtain, and he follows. The entire venue of idols, of actors, of Korea's biggest stars are none the wiser.

Jun's hands find immediate purchase at your waist. "Hey, pretty girl," he greets smoothly, that bright smile of his already lighting up his face.

You'll probably only have three minutes, but three minutes is all that Jun needs. He doesn't waste time. "Saw you on the red carpet earlier. You were stunning," he hums, his face going to nuzzle the underside of your ear.

"I think you're a little bit biased," you shoot back, unable to resist a jab. Your facade of annoyance is betrayed by the smile that's threatening to fill your own face. "But I think I can let it pass for tonight, 'specially since that suits of yours looks so good on you."

"I'd look even better out of it," he says unrepentantly. His arms tighten around your waist, holding you close when you try to pull back and away.

You let out a groan. Jun laughs softly.

Jun's lips brush against your jaw, then down the line of your throat. His nose skims your skin as he takes a breath. "You smell nice," he mumbles.

Cinnamon, sugar, vanilla. The same scent as his own cologne.

"You got me this at your Japan stop," you answer, your hands resting at his hips. It's not much, but it'll have to do for now.

"I should get you a perfume every time we have a stop abroad," he says.

"Yah, don't do that. You have expensive tastes. And you already get me too many things whenever you're on tour."

"What's the point of being an established artist at my big age if I can't spoil my pretty girl a little?" he grumbles petulantly. He tilts his head to press a kiss over your pulse. "Besides," he adds after a moment, "I like that you smell like me."

Smelling like Jun was just another one of those things. His subtle reminders in the form of innocuous couple items that only the two of you knew about. Cologne and perfume with similar notes, matching silk pajamas, rubber shoes from the same line. A quiet litany of mine, mine, mine in your every day lives.

You give a bright, warm laugh as you mumble into his hair, "I'll wear it more often, then."

You are so bad for him. A walking, talking dopamine rush. Everything about you makes Jun feel a little lightheaded, a little dizzy. Like he's had one too many to drink.

But you're also the one who sobers him up, the one who always says, "We should probably get going."

"Do we have to?" he whines. His arms around you tighten. He knows the answer to his question— yes, yes, you have to go. But he can't help wishing otherwise. "Five more minutes?"

Your nth sigh of the night. Even then— "Five more minutes," you concede.

His hands flatten out against your back, holding you more snugly against him. He could stay like this forever. Just your warmth against him, the scent of you in his nose, the sound of your steady breaths in his ear.

But you say five more minutes. And so he counts down from ten in his head. Ten, nine, eight…

Jun pulls back after the countdown and steals a long, deep kiss from your lips.

This was what it felt like to be alive. The way his blood pumped faster, his heart thumped harder. The way that your very presence made everything else seem dull in comparison.

The feeling only intensifies when you move closer. When you arch against him in that way you know he loves. When your fingers run through his hair.

Jun is all but breathless. He pulls away after long enough, leaning his forehead against yours. "I'm a terrible influence on you," he pants against your lips.

Your hand slides down to his face, your thumb ghosting over his mouth. "You got some on you," you grumble, and it takes him a moment to realize that you're fretting over lip gloss.

"Leave it," he says. "I like smelling like perfume and looking like I got kissed."

You shoot him a glare. He gives you cheeky grin.

When the two of you part, Jun is relegated to watch you from his table. You're radiant up on stage, perfectly composed and charming. You have stellar manufactured chemistry with your more recent co-star, and some of the boys decide to tease Jun about it.

"Looks like you've gotten replaced, Junpi," Jeonghan sing-songs.

Soonyoung nudges Jun in the side. "Jealous that you've lost your favorite co-star to Kim Soohyun?"

Jun barely stops himself from bursting into laughter. Replaced? Co-star? His members don't know the half of it. Jun absentmindedly runs a thumb over his bottom lip, where traces of you still linger.

"What? Me, jealous?" He breaks out into an innocent smile. "Never."

୨ৎ * part of my ( JEALOUSY ) DRABBLE GAME.

#jun x reader #junhui x reader #jun imagines #junhui imagines #jun fluff #junhui fluff #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #୨ৎ penned by ylangelegy #୨ৎ muse .ᐟ svt #୨ৎ game set play .ᐟ #( falls to my knees. BRING HIM BACK TO MEEE )

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sound-of-scoups · 3 days ago

Text

Moth To A Flame | JJK & KMG | 02

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader x Kim Mingyu Genre|tags: Idol!au, series, established relationship, infidelity, lots of angst, lots of drama, smut, fluff. Word count: 10.6k Rating: Explicit adult content (MINORS DNI). Chapter warnings: Mentions of BTS hiatus and the military service (yes, it’s a warning), mentions of reader being older than Jungkook (just a couple of months), domestic af, SMUT, oral (f receiving), fingering, petnames, explicit language. If there's more, please let me know. A/N: Chapter three will probably be released at the end of december. At the moment, I’m focusing on something I think you’ll really enjoy, and I want to finish it as soon as possible, which will leave me with little time to edit chapter three. Anyway, enjoy reading! Tags: @mansaaay, @nbjch05, @nejiiiiiiii, @cherrylovescheol, @ninigyuuu, @roseki, @callmemadhatter, @rosewithlxv17, @amandatrain

Summary: Four years ago, you crossed paths with a charming member of the K-pop group Seventeen during their tour stop in Osaka. The two of you shared three intense, unforgettable days before life took you in different directions. It was painful for both of you, but you knew you couldn’t take things any further and had to say goodbye. Now, back in Seoul for good, you’re in a new relationship with another idol: Jeon Jungkook—whose charm and stability make him everything you thought you wanted. You are very much in love with him, and as your connection deepens, it feels like your life is finally falling into place. That is, until you meet one of your boyfriend’s best friends and are stunned to discover it’s the same man you fell for in Osaka all those years ago. As buried emotions resurface and secrets begin to unravel, you find yourself torn between these two men, caught in a whirlwind of love and conflict, testing the boundaries of loyalty and the choices that could change everything.

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It was early in the morning when you found yourself in Jungkook’s kitchen with Bam at your heels, preparing breakfast for the two of you. From where you stood, you could hear the sound of water running and Jungkook’s voice belting out a perfect high note from the bathroom, filling the entire apartment.

You moved around the kitchen with ease, the familiar surrounding comforting as you scooped rice from the cooker and moved it into two bowls on the counter. Bam, ever the eager assistant, watched you closely, his thin tail wagging as he caught the scent of Jungkook’s mom's kimchi leftovers from last night when you opened the container.

“Are you hungry, Bamie?” you asked playfully, giving him a gentle scratch behind his ears. As if he understood you completely, he responded with an enthusiastic bark, making you laugh. “Just a minute, buddy.”

A whole week had passed since the night you met Jungkook’s friends, and consequently, a whole seven days since you’d last seen Mingyu. Since that night, you simply hadn't allowed yourself to think about it at all, not wanting to waste a single minute reliving his words or his reactions to your presence, or even the way your body had responded to his.

You've filled every second of your day with work and Jungkook, not giving yourself time to process the events of last week. You chose to completely bury the feelings from that night, convincing yourself that staying busy was the best way to cope.

The rush of photoshoots, meetings, and moments like this, preparing meals with Bam at your feet, the routine and domestic life with Jungkook has kept you from overthinking everything—and so far, it has been working perfectly well for you and your anxiety around the subject.

The only times your thoughts drifted back to Mingyu and that night at the restaurant were when you tried to summon the courage to tell Jungkook everything.

On the nights when you were alone in your apartment, lying in your bed and staring at the ceiling, you weighed the idea of coming clean to him, of laying everything out in the open, hoping he’d be able to understand. Yet, each time you got close to letting the truth spill out, the words seemed to vanish from your brain before they managed to escape your lips.

Maybe it was the fear of shattering the world you’d built together, losing him forever, or turning nothing into something. You just knew that whatever it was, the mere thought of losing the peace you had with Jungkook felt like more than either of you could bear. So, you let the conversation slip away and bury it once again.

But every now and then, in your quietest moments, you feared even more that the dam you’d built around your emotions might crack sooner than later. You were so afraid Mingyu would be braver than you and decide it to tell Jungkook everything, the thought simply gnawed at you, knowing you had no control over it.

So far, he has been silent. Very much different from your mind, that was still tangled with questions you didn’t feel ready to confront yet. Although, before you even could allow yourself to find the answers to them, you decided it would be better to push all the thoughts about Mingyu away.

You told yourself that whatever had happened, whatever had flickered to life in that brief moment with Mingyu that night, was insignificant. It was easier this way, to concentrate on Jungkook and your relationship, to keep your world with him simple and untouched by secrets or memories from your past.

Why risk igniting questions or insecurities over something you were convinced had no relevance in your future?

Besides, even after everything that night, you still felt no need to look back or reconsider your relationship with Jungkook. There was no reason to dwell on fleeting moments, feelings or people you had long since moved on from.

Right?

As you were setting the food on the small kitchen dining table, you could hear the gentle hiss of the shower shutting off, signaling that Jungkook was done and would join you in a couple of minutes.

You poured the freshly brewed coffee into your two usual mugs, the aroma mingling with the scent of kimchi and rice, making your stomach rumble. At the same time, Bam let out a soft whine, his eyes flicking from the bowls to you, clearly hoping for a bite.

“You’re so hungry, aren’t you?” you leaned down to kiss the dog’s head, voice shifting to the soft, affectionate baby tone reserved exclusively for him. He licked your face in response. “Yes you are, my baby.”

You got up again and made your way down the length of the pantry toward the cabinets where Bam’s food was stored. He trailed behind you eagerly, his tail wagging when picked up on what you were going to do, his excitement growing with each step you took.

Quietly, you moved around, passing neatly stacked jars and spices until you reached the right cabinet, shaking the package slightly to tease him. Bam's tail wagged furiously, another whine escaping him as he danced around your legs.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, baby,” you chuckled, crouching down to scoop out his breakfast in his bowl. The sound of kibble hitting his bowl was music to his ears, and he immediately dove in, devouring the meal like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

"Is your eomma being mean to you, Bamie?" you heard Jungkook’s voice behind you, sensing his warm presence close by. “Does appa need to punish her?”

Looking over your shoulder, you found him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his abs on full display, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His dark hair was a damp mess, falling into his eyes, and yet he looked absolutely radiant, a perfect blend of boyish charm and irresistible allure. His posture was calm, peaceful, completely different from the tense one he had carried so often these past few days.

So much has been on his shoulders lately. The past few weeks had been a blur of busy days and late nights with BTS latest comeback, and though Jungkook tried his best to keep his energy up, you could sense the weight of the things he was carrying floating in the air between the two of you.

You caught the strain in those brief moments when he thought you weren’t watching, because, not so unfortunately for him, you were always watching, just as he did with you.

You noticed it in the subtle signs he couldn’t quite hide—the sadness lingering in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the rare moments when his smile didn’t quite reach those warm, sparkling doe orbs, the pauses mid-sentence as though he was carefully weighing what he could reveal to you. Everything was there and you could see it perfectly, because you knew him like the back of your hand.

You respected his need for privacy, of course, but it hurted your heart to see him bearing his struggles with the way the media was handling the news of BTS hiatus all on his own. And as if that wasn't enough, there were the on-going conversations about military service and the pressure of his up-coming solo projects.

Everything had left you wishing you could share the weight of his burdens, to let him lean on you the way he so effortlessly allowed you to lean on him.

You’d tried encouraging him to open up, reminding him he didn’t have to go through it alone. But Jungkook had a way of steering the conversation away from his worries, brushing off your concern with a gentle kiss, a reassuring smile, a quick joke, or a change of subject, as if he were trying to convince you that everything would be fine, forgetting that it was actually him who needed that reminder.

You’d never push him; you knew Jungkook well enough to know he would talk when he was ready. So, for now, you decided to keep things positive and light, to be his summer Sun, a respite from everything else in his life.

Which meant not thinking about Mingyu and not thinking about the past.

Watching Jungkook, seeing the effort he put into maintaining his usual brightness lately, you decided that this subject could wait—Jungkook's happiness was more important than anything else.

You watched as Bam, mid-chew, paused to glance between the two of you, his tail wagging in earnest now that both his favorite people were in the same room.

Jungkook walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“You know you’re just jealous because I’m his favorite,” you scoffed at him, looking down at the dog, your tone of voice shifting again. “Right, Bamie? Who’s your favorite?”

Bam barked once and rubbed his head on your legs as if confirming your statement, and Jungkook let out a dramatic groan, throwing his head back.

“Traitor,” he muttered, but you could see the way his eyes crinkled with laughter. “You like pretty girls who give you treats, huh?”

You laughed, leaning back into his embrace. “Well, if you wagged your tail like he does, maybe I’d give you treats too.”

“Careful, I just might,” he whispered into your ear, his voice low and playful. “Good morning, doll.”

“Good morning,” you replied, your smile widening as he nestled you even closer into his warmth, you both walking back to the kitchen like this. “How’d you sleep?”

His fingers slowly started to trace gentle patterns along your hips. "Perfectly, with you here,” he planted a kiss on your shoulder. “How long have you been awake?"

"Not long," you said with a shrug. “My bio clock woke me up earlier than usual, so I took the opportunity to prepare breakfast early.”

Jungkook hummed softly in response, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering against your skin as if he couldn’t bear to pull away. “Feeling anxious?”

You pouted, nodding your head. “Just a little bit.”

“How is your day looking?” he asked, brushing your hair to the side so he could rest his head on your shoulder.

"Busy,” you answered with a soft sigh, leaning into his touch. “I’ve got (G)I-DLE’s Yuqi’s photoshoot for Elle’s July issue, lunch with my brother, and later in the afternoon, that meeting with the head of Hybe’s fashion department.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his thumb brushing lightly against your hip bone. “Wow, look at you, all busy and important,” he said, his voice dripping with playful admiration. “Did they tell you why they contacted you during the phone call?”

“No, they didn’t give much detail,” you explained, turning to face him fully and wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s neck as his immediately founding their way to your hips. “Just said it was urgent and that they’d explain everything in person. Something about a group, but I didn't quite catch it.”

Yesterday, you received a call from Hybe’s fashion department requesting a meeting with you at the company building this afternoon. You were in the middle of changing models outfits for the magazine photoshoot in a spot with poor reception, and you could barely make out what the woman on the other end was saying. All you’d understood was that it was urgent and had something to do with one of their group's demands.

The email wasn’t much more informative, simply stating that you had an interview scheduled for today with Kim Injae, the head of the department, and it left you unsure of what to expect or how to prepare for the meeting.

You watched as Jungkook tilted his head, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “A group? What do you think they meant by that?”

“I’m not sure,” you admitted, a small frown forming on your face. “Maybe they want me for a collaboration or a campaign?”

He leaned back slightly, his dark eyes deep in thought. “Could be,” he murmured. Then his face lit up, a grin spreading as if he’d reached a brilliant conclusion. "Do you think they will bring you back to work with us?"

Your eyes widened at Jungkook's suggestion, and you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "Highly doubt it. We both know why I left, and I don’t think they’d want to revisit that."

It wasn't that simple, even though you wish it was. Hybe was a very strict company when it came to the line between personal relationships and professionalism. You being with Jungkook was exactly why you’d stepped away in the first place. You doubted they would give you the position back now that the lines were already blurred.

Jungkook tapped his fingers lightly against your left hip, his thoughtful gaze never leaving yours. Then he raised one hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he stared at you with a knowing look.

“Well, Soobin told me last week that TXT was looking for a new stylist. Maybe you’re it.”

Your breath hitched slightly at the suggestion. The possibility had crossed your mind, but you’d pushed it aside, not wanting to place expectations.

“I don’t know. It’s possible, I guess,” you shrugged. “I hate being left in suspense. It could be something big or it could be nothing at all."

You weren’t much of a fan of suspense, and the lack of information they’d provided was making you anxious. It wasn’t as if this was your first job interview or anything new in your field. Still, an inexplicable sense of premonition crept into your nerves, and you couldn’t quite figure out why.

Trying to shake off the unease that was building in your chest, you let out a slow breath. It didn’t make sense to be so on edge—after all, you’d been in this industry for long enough to know that these things were par for the course.

“All I know is that it’s urgent, since they stressed that they needed to see me today.”

“It’s something big, I’m sure,” Jungkook encouraged you, planting a kiss on your temple and intertwining his fingers with yours. “You’ve been killing it lately, so it wouldn’t surprise me if they wanted to work with you on something major.”

You just loved the way he was your number one fan, always encouraging you no matter what. A smile crept onto your face at his words. “You really think so?”

His expression softened. “I’m sure of it. Whatever it is, you’ve got this. You’ve done this job before, and you’re damn good at it. They’d be lucky to have you back.”

His words made you smile, easing some of the tension in your chest.

“I just wish I knew what to expect.”

“Do you want me to investigate? I'll call Namjoon hyung and—”

You laughed, cutting him off with a shake of your head. “No, absolutely not. You are not calling Namjoon to dig around for me.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a mischievous grin. “Why not? He owes me for covering for him in the last practice.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I can handle this on my own. Besides, the last thing I need is for them to think I’m sending you in as my spy.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, untangling your fingers to raise his hands in mock surrender. “But if you change your mind, just say the word. My investigative services are always available for you, free of charge.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You offered him a small smile, pressing your forehead against his. "And I appreciate the vote of confidence. It means a lot knowing you've got my back.”

“Baby, I’ll always be right here to celebrate your wins, no matter how big or small.” His voice was calm but firm. He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles.

Your heart softened again at his words. "Thanks, Kook," you said quietly, meeting his gaze. "That means a lot."

"Always," he replied simply, his voice steady and sincere.

Sometimes, you wondered if leaving Hybe to preserve your relationship with Jungkook had been a terrible decision. But it was moments like this that reminded you the reason why you didn’t regret it for a single second. He would always be your choice—again and again.

“Oh, man!” he groaned, throwing his head back. “I'm going to have to warn those kids to stay the hell away from you. Yeonjun is a charmer!”

You snorted, shaking your head at Jungkook’s dramatic reaction. “Oh, please. I’ll be there to work, not to be swept off my feet by some gen z heartthrob.”

He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I’m just saying. Yeonjun’s a smooth talker, and if you’re not careful, he might try to charm his way into your good graces. I know how those guys operate. And since when do you think he's a heartthrob?"

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to poke his chest. “Are you jealous, Jeon Jungkook?”

“Me? Jealous?” He scoffed, though his ears turned a suspicious shade of pink. You couldn’t help but smile at the slight whine in his tone. “I’m just being protective. Big difference.”

“Right,” you said, drawing out the word teasingly. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m immune to charm when it comes to work. Plus, I already have someone way more charming than Yeonjun could ever hope to be.”

Jungkook tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

You grinned, running your fingers through his still damp hair. “This buff tattooed dude I know.”

He let out a soft laugh, pulling you closer by your waist, the heat of his bare chest warming you through the shirt you were wearing—his shirt.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Besides, I don’t even like younger guys.”

Jungkook chuckled, eyebrows arching as his gaze sharpened with amusement. Pulling you even closer, he teased, “Oh, really? You do realize I’m four months younger than you, right?”

With a soft laugh, you brushed strands of hair from his forehead, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“The only exception."

A quiet groan escaped him as he leaned into your touch on his face, his shoulders relaxing as your fingers gently threaded through his hair, eyes slowly closing.

“Good. Because I was about to say, I’m pretty sure I’ve already ruined you for anyone else.”

You rolled your eyes again, your laughter filling the kitchen. “Cocky much?”

He smiled genuinely with his lips almost closed, only the upper front teeth showing, his cheeks pushing up and nose wrinkling a bit, making your heart squeeze in love. His eyes stayed closed, but his expression was unmistakably Jungkook, full of fondness and something so inherently him that you couldn’t help but stare, savoring every detail of his face. It was your favorite kind of smile on him.

"Well," his voice low and teasing as he lifted your left leg to hook on his hip, pressing your back to the kitchen island. “I like the idea of being the only one in your life.”

You bit your bottom lip, suppressing a smile, your heart thudding against your ribs as Jungkook’s words sent a thrill through you. His fingers tightened slightly on your thigh, holding your leg firmly against his hip, his body pressing you deeper into the counter.

You shook your head, letting your fingernails trail along his jaw. "Pretty sure you already are, you know, since I’m in love with you and everything."

He peeked at you with one eye, a playful grin tugging at his lips. Then he fully opened his eyes—those soft, doe-like eyes sparkling as his tongue teased his lip ring. His gaze lingered on yours for a moment before dropping to your lips.

“I love hearing that.”

"And you know," you murmured, tilting your head to the side, your voice breathless as your hands traveled up his chest. "I’m already yours."

His eyes darkened, a pleased smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah?” he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Guess I just like reminding you.”

Before you could respond, Jungkook’s hand found the back of your neck, his fingers threading gently through your hair as he closed the little space between you and captured your mouth in a kiss. His lips claimed yours, lifting no room for hesitation, only raw, unfiltered need. You responded instinctively, arms wrapping around his neck again as his tongue slipped between your parted lips, his mouth exploring yours with an intensity that sent heat straight through you.

The way he kissed you—like he was starving, like you were the only thing he ever craved—made your mind spin. You wanted nothing less than to be devoured by him.

Jungkook moved with purpose, hands skimming down your back until they landed on your hips, his fingers gripping with just enough pressure to pull a quiet gasp from you. In one smooth motion, he broke the kiss and lifted you, setting you onto the counter, his body fitting between your legs as if it belonged there. Now at eye level, he looked into your eyes for a heartbeat, his own dark and searching. His hands slipped under the hem of your sleeping shirt and then his mouth was on you again, trailing down your jaw to your neck, leaving a line of warm, open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver.

Your head tilted back, breath hitching as his lips continued their slow exploration down your throat. The way his fingers traced your bare skin sent a shiver through you, your nipples hardening instantly, and you could feel his smile against your neck, clearly amused by the effect he had on you.

His fingers danced just shy of where you desperately craved his touch, teasingly tracing the curve of your breasts without quite making contact. Each barely-there caress sent sparks of desire racing through your veins, and you could feel his growing hardness pressing against you, igniting something primal deep within.

Heat pooled inside you as his hands tightened around your waist, anchoring you against him. You rolled your hips instinctively, drawing a low, guttural groan from him that reverberated between your kisses and sent a throbbing ache straight to your core.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the firm planes under your fingers as you held him close. He let out a low, appreciative hum, your lips meeting again as you draw his lower lip between yours to feel the cool press of his piercing against your mouth. That was all the encouragement he needed to collide your lips completely, holding you steady as he took the kiss deeper.

His hand slid up your thighs, their warmth igniting your skin as they circled your waist before settling possessively on the soft curves of your ass. The sensation sent a thrill through you, and his hand, still resting on your ass, pulled you closer, pressing your clothed clint against the hardness of his crotch and making you moan.

“Kook, fuck…” you cursed against his lips, fingers curling into his hair, wanting him closer, wanting more.

When his fingers started to travel south, you could already feel your panties soaked and sticking to your pussy. The effect Jungkook had on you could probably be studied by experts and still, no humanly explainable answers would be found.

“Are you wet for me, doll?”

Jungkook's voice was low, a teasing edge to it that sent a shiver down your spine. You knew it was a half rhetorical question, because not much later his thumb hooked under the edge of your lacy panties and moved them aside to check it himself.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a whimper, but it only made his smirk grow wider.

“I asked you a question,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “Are you wet for me?”

Slowly and deliberately, his fingers parted your slick folds, his touch both teasing and tempting. His thumb hovered over your clit, not quite touching, just lingering there, driving you wild with anticipation.

Your breath hitched, and you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Fuck, yes!”

“Good girl,” he said, his tone dark and dripping with satisfaction, starting to rub your clit nice and slow. “Such an obedient little doll. Always so wet for me.”

A shiver coursed through you as his thumb circled your most sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through your body. When his first finger slipped inside you with ease, a soft moan escaped your lips. When he added a second, stretching you just enough to make your head spin, your breath hitched, voice trembling as you moaned his name again.

“God, how are you so tight?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. His voice was low and rough. “So perfect for me. Just for me, yeah?”

Jungkook's dark eyes never left yours, watching your every reaction closely as his fingers worked you with a precision that left you breathless. He wasn’t asking you a question, he was making a statement and you knew it: you’re his and no one else.

His thumb circled your clit again in quick movements, while his fingers curled inside you, hitting just the right spot with each thrust.

“Baby,” you gasped, your voice breaking into a needy cry as he found that perfect spot deep inside you, sending a surge of ecstasy through your trembling body.

“Feels good, doll?”

“So good, Kook. Fuck!”

Your hands gripped his shoulders as ripples of bliss rolled through you. His name fell from your lips like a prayer again and again, each moan driving him further into his focused rhythm. His pace quickened, his movements more insistent as he watched every reaction your body gave him.

Your back arched, and your breath came in short gasps, the tension inside you coiled tighter and tighter, every nerve alight with anticipation. And then he stopped, pulling back just as you teetered on the edge.

A desperate whimper escaped your lips.

“Kook, what—”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and teasing, his breath warm against your skin. “Calm down,” he murmured, his lips curving into a wicked smile. “I want to taste you. Lay down for me, baby.”

Jungkook’s command sent a rush of lust through you, leaving no room for hesitation. You leaned back against the counter, your body already trembling under his intense gaze as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His hands gripped your thighs gently but firmly, spreading them more apart as he trailed kisses along the sensitive skin.

He leaned forward, his breath ghosting over your core and you couldn’t help but gasp. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties, he pulled them down slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. The tension in the air was thick, each second stretching into an eternity as he took in the sight of you laid bare before him.

“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look like this?” he murmured, his voice and eyes thick with desire.

Before you could even respond or shy away under his gaze, his jaw parted, and his pink tongue darted out, licking a bold stripe from your entrance to your clit with deliberate, agonizing precision.

A curse and a moan escaped your lips, your body arching into his touch. Your hands slid under the oversized shirt you wore, desperate to grasp your neglected breasts, fingers tugging at your sensitive peaks.

Your image makes Jungkook’s hands tighten their grip on your thighs, pulling you closer to his eager mouth and you gasped, a surprised yelp escaping when you slid down slightly on the counter beneath you.

A breathless laugh tumbled from your parted lips but melted into a new moan as his own wrapped around your clit, sucking it hard. The cold press of his piercing against your sensitive skin sent a delicious shiver through you.

“Jungkook,” you whimpered, voice trembling. “So good, I–”

Jungkook swirled his tongue, letting you feel the precision of his attention. One of your hands tangled in his dark hair, tugging hard and making him groan, vibrating against your clit. The sensation was so overwhelming that for a moment, your breath escaped you, mind consumed entirely by the pleasure he gave you.

“You taste so sweet,” he declared against your core, his voice rough. “I could have this everyday for breakfast.”

As his finger slowly slid back into your dripping heat, his lips and tongue worked together, lapping at your clit to coax your body into pure relaxation. The pleasure was intoxicating, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking your hips against his face and the rhythm of his finger going in and out of you.

When his middle finger joined in, your mind dissolved into pure bliss. Jungkook’s tongue traced a sinful path again, licking you up and down, savoring every drop of your slick. He sucked greedily at your folds before returning to your bundle of nerves, flicking it just enough to make your walls clenched tightly around his fingers, drawing him deeper, your body completely at his mercy.

“Gonna cum, baby. Fuck!"

“Let go for me, doll,” he urged, his voice low and commanding.

The pressure built steadily, your body trembling as the coil in your stomach tightened, ready to snap. Jungkook seemed to sense it, his pace quickening as he focused on the spot that made you cry out, your body writhing beneath him.

His hands slid up to hold your hips in place as your body shook above him, and with one last flick of his tongue, your release finally hit, crashing over you like a wave, consuming every part of you in its intensity.

Your cries echoed through the kitchen as your body shook uncontrollably, every nerve ending alight with sensation. He held you through it, his hands firm and reassuring as he lapped up every bit of your pleasure, savoring you like you were his favorite meal.

When you finally came down from the high, he pulled back, his lips glistening and his eyes dark with satisfaction. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your inner thigh. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

Jungkook began to trail soft kisses up your belly, his lips brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your breath hitch slightly again. Your hands instinctively found their way back to his hair, your fingers threading through the dark strands, combing them carefully as his mouth continued its slow way up.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice gravelly with affection. “I love having you’re here.”

His lips were warm and soft against your skin, lingering at the curve of your waist, breath hot and comforting against your ribs as he nuzzled closer.

“I love being here,” you replied, melting into him once more.

You felt Jungkkok smiling against your skin, his hands slid up your sides, his touch firm but reverent, like he was memorizing every inch of you.

“I love mornings like this and you're so good with Bam. Having you here… it feels right,” His voice held a quiet sincerity, his gaze warm as he looked up at you. “Like this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, matching his tender expression. “I know what you mean. Being here feels like being home.”

You closed your eyes, fingers tightened in his hair as he kissed higher, his lips brushing just beneath your collarbone. Junkook smiled again, his hands shifting to cup your cheeks as he leaned in to capture your swollen lips again. The kiss was slow, deep, and filled with a yearning that made your heart ache.

As he pulled back, his thumb traced your jawline, his gaze searching yours. “Let’s make this our thing, every day.”

“What do you mean?”

“Move in with me.”

“Alright everyone, let’s take fifteen!”

Those were the exact words Mingyu needed to hear from Hoshi right now, causing everyone else in the room to let out groans of relief as they immediately dropped to the floor.

Mingyu himself let out a long exhale, running a hand through his damp hair, waking to a corner of the practice room and watching as the mirrors lining the wall reflected his restless expression, sweat glistening on his forehead and neck.

He grabbed a towel and dabbed it against his face, trying to catch his breath as he sat down on the wooden floor, away from the rest of the members. As usual, the room buzzed with casual chatter and the sound of sneakers scuffing against the floor as the others stretched or joked around.

Mingyu, on the other hand, remained silent, leaning against the wall with his gaze fixed on his hands, completely locked in thought. His chest heaved with fatigue, his shoulders sagging slightly.

It wasn’t just the practice that had drained him. No. The physical exhaustion was manageable, something he’d long grown accustomed to.

The problem was that no matter how much he tried to focus on the rehearsals, on the music, the choreography, the shouts of encouragement from his members, in the fact that the first show of the tour was getting closer and closer, his mind kept drifting back to you—to the silence that has been haunting him since that night a week ago.

It was exhausting.

All Mingyu wanted was to talk to you, to make sense of everything that happened since the day you parted ways at Kansai International Airport to the moment you saw each other again in that restaurant. He wanted to understand how you were suddenly back in Korea now and, most important, of all the people in the world, how you ended up becoming Jungkook’s girlfriend.

What kind of sick twisted joke was the universe trying to play on him?

He simply couldn't understand.

Additionally, you had said to him that you would think about talking, but a week had gone by, and nothing.

Seven long, torturous days, and still, his phone remained silent. Every time it buzzed with an unknown number, his heart would lurch, hoping it was you, but it never was. He didn’t even know why he expected you to try to contact him, or how that could possibly happen, since you didn’t exchange numbers.

Yet, despite everything, he still held onto the hope that you would.

So far, all he’d gotten from you was silence and it was killing him, making him absolutely restless. He hated himself for it, hated how he’d become the guy waiting around for a message that would probably never come. It was pathetic, really.

He rubbed a hand over his face, frustration gnawing at him. Part of Mingyu wanted to reach out to you first, to demand an answer, even though he wondered how he could even do that.

He didn't even know if you had told Jungkook yet. Were you planning to tell him? If you already had, how did he react? Was he angry with Mingyu now? Was he angry with you? What did it mean if you hadn’t said anything? Should he have been the one to say something to his friend?

He had so many questions swimming around in his brain and he just wanted to find answers to them.

The other part of him, however, was too afraid of what he might hear.

What if your silence was already the answer?

Mingyu rested his arms on his knees and lowered his head, letting out a bitter, quiet laugh, shaking his head as if he could somehow remove the thoughts from his mind.

Why do I even care? he thought to himself, even though he already knew the answer very well.

Goddammit.

He hated how much power you still held over him, how even now, after all this time, you had the same effect on him as you did four years ago. How he found himself stuck, unable to move past the hope that you’d reach out, that you’d say something—anything—that would prove he hadn’t been a complete fool for waiting for you to show up again all these years.

“Alright, man,” Minghao’s voice cut through his thoughts as the red haired man settled down next to him. “Spill it. What’s up with you today?”

After days of watching Mingyu zone out during practice, Minghao couldn’t hold back any longer. He’d noticed his friend's unusual restlessness during this week’s rehearsals—his gaze darting around the room, his mind clearly elsewhere. Mistake after mistake on his moves, even on the simplest parts of the choreographies, and Hoshi had been scolding him every five minutes to get things right.

It wasn’t like Mingyu to be so distracted; he usually approached every song with relentless focus, always going the extra mile to ensure every move was perfect, especially with a tour just around the corner. So, of course, something was wrong with him; Minghao just couldn’t figure out what it was.

He mimicked Mingyu’s kicked out puppy posture, looking at him with his eyebrows arched.

Mingyu glanced over, his expression caught between irritation and reluctance, but the look quickly softened when he noticed who was sitting next to him.

“What do you mean?” he asked, though his tone was more deflective than curious.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Minghao replied, nudging his friend’s shoulder with his own. “You’ve been off all week. Something’s definitely on your mind. So, what’s going on?”

Mingyu blinked, finally realizing he hadn’t masked his mood as well as he’d thought. He straightened, a faint forced smile appearing on his face as he shrugged it off. "Nothing,” he muttered, but even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. Minghao clearly wasn't buying it either.

"You’ve got that look on your face," Minghao said, waving his hand in front of Mingyu's face. "The one you get when you’re carrying something heavy. Come on, talk to me."

Mingyu let out another sigh, running a hand through his hair and wiping his face with the towel again, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Just a lot on my mind. You know how it is.”

Minghao nodded slowly, his head tilting as he watched his friend carefully. “Yeah, I do. But usually, you’re one of the members keeping the rest of us calm. What got you rattled?”

Looking away and glancing over at his members, laughing and messing around the room, Mingyu hesitated. He wanted to brush it off, to tell Minghao it was just the anxiety pre-tour, or that he was tired. But he knew Minghao better than that. His friend had an irritatingly sharp sense for when things weren't right, and Mingyu didn’t have the energy to lie anymore.

Except that he couldn't tell the truth either.

So instead, he chose to be evasive.

“Just… life stuff,” Mingyu said finally, trying to keep his tone light, though even he knew it sounded forced.

“Family stuff?” Minghao pressed. He shook his head no. “Did you fight with one of the members?”

“No.”

“Girl problems?”

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he let out a slow breath, tossing the towel onto the ground and rubbing the back of his head—why did he suddenly sound like a fifteen-year-old?

“Something like that.”

Minghao’s eyes narrowed the way they always did when he was trying to see straight through Mingyu’s defenses. He tilted his head again, studying him for a small second, then gave a small, knowing smile.

"Oh?" he faked gasped, leaning back on his hands. "You? Having girl problems?"

Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, Mingyu groaned. “Can we not call it that?” he muttered, but even he couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice.

Minghao just laughed softly. “Alright, alright. Let’s call it... romantic confusion. Better?”

Mingyu let out a reluctant chuckle, dropping his hands to his knees.

Ironically, it was actually the perfect way to describe his current situation.

“You make it sound like I’m a teenager, but sure, whatever.” He paused, taking a deep breath and hesitating again for just a moment before gathering courage to ask, “Have you ever had someone just… show up again in your life, out of nowhere?”

“Someone important, I’m assuming?” Minghao asked back thoughtfully, a hint of intrigue in his face.

Mingyu nodded but offered nothing more.

Then Minghao decided to venture, an amused gleam in his eyes now. “So… I’m assuming that ‘something like that’ has something to do with a girl from your past that is now back.”

Mingyu stilled, jaw clenched ever so slightly, considering whether he should even respond to it. But he was the one who had allowed the conversation to go this way in the first place, he might as well respond to Minghao's question.

He shrugged, watching his reflection in the mirror as if might offer him a better answer. “Maybe,” he finally admitted. “It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” Minghao chuckled slightly. “But to answer your question: no, it’s never happened to me.”

There was a pause as they both watched as Seokmin dragged Chan across the room by his legs, the rest of the members laughing to a joke they’re both unaware of. The silence stretched between them until Minghao shifted as if preparing to ask a question he’d been holding back, his curiosity far from satisfied.

Mingyu could feel the shift in Minghao’s posture, the way his friend leaned just a little closer, eyes flickering with that signature curiosity that always meant he was about to dig deeper. The background chaos of the practice room continued—Chan was now flailing dramatically while Dokyeom cackled, and the other members egged them on—but to his surprise, it all felt distant.

“Can I ask you something?” Minghao finally questioned, his tone soft but very probing. “Not related to this.

Mingyu met his gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he sensed something coming. “Go ahead.”

Minghao seemed to hesitate for just a second, his voice dropping a notch. “What really happened to that girl from Osaka? I know you said she was unattainable once, but four years it’s a long time, man.”

Mingyu exhaled, trying to mask his shocked expression, wondering why Minghao was bringing that up now—four whole years later. Though he suspected it was no one’s fault but his own. He hated how he was an open book with his feelings, and hated how easily Minghao could read him. He’d spent years avoiding this question, brushing it off whenever his friends brought it up. But now, with everything coming back so suddenly, it was getting harder to ignore.

He ran a hand through his hair again, his fingers tugging at the roots as if that might somehow pull the words out of him. “Well, for starters, she’s no longer unattainable.”

Minghao’s eyebrow arched in surprise. “Why do I sense a but coming?”

Mingyu let out a humorless laugh. “But she’s now completely off-limits.”

He hadn’t realized how much he’d been carrying until the words left his mouth, how the weight of it all felt like was pressing his chest.

Of all things, he couldn’t help but feel selfish for barely acknowledging, even after these seven days, the full weight of this fact: you were now off-limits because you were with someone he cared deeply about—someone he would never risk hurting.

He watched as Minghao studied his face for a moment, the significance of the confession settling between them. The noise of the practice room seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the tension of their conversation hanging in the air.

“What do you mean, ‘off-limits’?” Minghao asked quietly, his eyes never leaving Mingyu’s. There was a softness there, an understanding. “I thought she had disappeared.”

“She did,” Mingyu's voice was barely a whisper when he answered. “Didn’t think I’d see her again.”

Mighao watched him with a mixture of surprise and sympathy. “But now she’s back?”

Mingyu nodded, his jaw clenched.

“It’s her, isn’t it? The someone importante who’s back in your life?” When Mingyu didn’t say anything, Minghao pressed on. “What’s stopping you now?”

Mingyu swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor. “She’s... she’s with someone else now. Someone who... well, let’s just say it’s not exactly someone I can compete with.”

Minghao stayed serious for a few seconds, staring at Mingyu with a contemplative expression. Then, suddenly, he burst out laughing, as if Mingyu had just told the funniest joke in the world.

“You’re bullshiting me. If anything, this someone else is the one he can’t compete with you.”

“It’s not just about competing with someone else,” Mingyu said, his voice tinged with frustration and defeat. “It’s about competing with someone I care about deeply. Someone I would never hurt. Ever.”

Someone he couldn’t hate even if he wanted to, he taught.

Minghao’s eyes widened slightly as he leaned back, his lips quirking up into a faint smile, though there was no humor in it.

“Ah,” he said simply, the weight of Mingyu’s words sinking in.

Mingyu had spent hours, days, months, and years imagining what it might be like to see you again—to touch you, hold you, kiss you, and finally ask the question that had haunted him since the day you vanished from his life. Every single one of these scenarios painted in his mind with a romanticized curiosity.

And yet, no amount of daydreaming could have prepared him for the cold, harsh nightmare of reality. When the moment finally came, it felt like he was the butt of the world’s cruelest joke. Everything he’d built up in his mind crumbled in an instant, the weight of shattered expectations burying him beneath the wreckage.

Jungkook was one of his closest friends—hell, one of his best. Their bond had been forged through years of trust and loyalty, long before the day he saw you. To Mingyu, Jungkook was more than a friend; he was practically family.

But he still couldn’t help but think that it was unfair; he had seen you first.

“Well,” Minghao’s voice broke his thoughts again. “I just don’t think you can sit there and pretend you haven’t spent the last four years waiting to see her again.”

Mingyu took a deep breath, turning his gaze away to watch the other members across the room as they bantered and laughed, feeling as though he’d just been punched in the stomach. Minghao’s words carried an honesty he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

The worst part was that there was no way you didn’t hear his friends laughing and joking at how he had spent the last four years waiting for you to come back.

And even then, a week has gone by with you in complete silence.

It was like he had been transported back to the moment he realized that no matter how much effort he put in, finding you wouldn’t be as easy as he had hoped.

He exhaled through his nose, his voice low and bitter when he finally spoke. “What good would that do, Myungho?” he muttered, his eyes still fixed on the scene in front of him but not really seeing it. “Waiting doesn’t mean anything if the outcome’s already decided.”

“Maybe not. But waiting says a lot about how much she matters to you.”

Mingyu let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head.

“And what does that matter now? She’s with someone else. End of story.” His voice cracked just slightly on the word someone, and he cursed himself for it.

Minghao’s expression softened, but there was still a sharp edge to his words. “If it were really the end of the story, you wouldn’t still be sitting here, torturing yourself over it.”

It was because, for him, it wasn’t. Not really.

Since that night in the restaurant, memories kept flooding back—flashes of laughter, stolen glances across the hotel bar, long and late night conversations in the quiet of the hotel room. He’d spent three days with you, but those moments had burned deeper than some entire relationships he had before. And then… nothing. You were gone, and he’d convinced himself he could just move on.

His silence spoke volumes to Minghao.

“So… answer my first question. What happened between you two, really? Why’d it end in the first place?”

“That's the worst part; I don’t even know, man," he started, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "She told me she was moving here and we decided we would give it a try once she was settled. But on the last day, she disappeared."

Minghao nodded slowly, waiting for more, his silence encouraging without being pushy.

Mingyu continued, his voice growing softer. “After looking for her everywhere I could, I thought... if I let her go, it’d be easier. For both of us. I mean… maybe she disappeared by her own choice, you know? I even asked Daeho hyung for help to find her at the time, isn't that ridiculous?”

He could still remember how stupid he felt when he asked their former manager for help. He felt even more embarrassed when he was scolded for focusing on things he shouldn’t have—distractions, as Daeho liked to call them—rather than focusing solely on Seventeen’s career.

Stopping for a second and closing his eyes, Mingyu let out a shaky breath, as if releasing the weight of the memory.

“But as you know, I couldn’t let it go, no matter how much I told myself to,” he laughed, but it came out hollow. “Every time I thought I was moving on, something would remind me of her. It’s pathetic, really.”

Minghao frowned, his gaze steady but kind. “It’s not pathetic, man.” He leaned forward slightly, his tone serious but gentle. “It looks like you never got any closure.”

“I didn’t. And now that she’s back…” He paused, his jaw clenching as he fought to steady his emotions. “It’s like everything I tried to bury is crashing down on me all at once.” Mingyu shook his head, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration. “And the worst part? I can’t even hate her for leaving. Not when I don’t know the whole story.”

“Maybe that’s what you need, then…” Minghao said, his expression thoughtful. “ to find closure.”

Mingyu looked at him, his shoulders tense, the vulnerability in his eyes raw and unguarded. “And what if the closure doesn’t change anything? What if it just... makes it worse?”

“Then at least you’ll know. At least you’ll have an answer. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll finally be able to move forward.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” But even as he said it, the uncertainty lingered, heavy and unresolved.

His gaze swept across the room, taking in the other members, until it landed on someone he had almost overlooked: Vernon, sitting in a corner, fidgeting and lost in his own thoughts.

Mingyu already knew what was on his mind; it had been the topic of discussions all week—the possibility that his girlfriend, the latest, and now former, Seventeen main stylist, might be fired for having a personal relationship with someone she worked for.

They had been accidentally discovered by the company’s fashion department supervisor last week. Since then, the group’s stylist position had remained vacant, with only a few days left before their tour began. Vernon was just as restless as Mingyu, haunted by guilt over what had happened while the company discussed under the covers his girlfriend’s future.

Mingyu wanted to help him, but his own muddled thoughts left him incapable of offering any support.

“Look, Gyu, I know it’s a tough situation,” Minghao said gently. “But be honest with yourself. You don’t have to rush into anything, but if she really matters to you, don’t let fear, or anything else, stop you.”

For a moment, Mingyu just stared at Minghao, his friend's words hanging in the air between them. He hated how Minghao always had a way of cutting through the noise and getting straight to the heart of things.

"You don’t have to figure it out all at once, man. But don’t lie to yourself about how you feel. She’s already here, right? That’s gotta mean something.”

With that, Minghao stood up and made his way across the room, heading toward Vernon, leaving Mingyu to process alone the weight of his words in the quiet that followed.

You smoothed the fabric of your blouse again, trying to calm your nerves as you stood in the sleek conference room. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking view of the city, but it did little to settle your anxiety. The weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air, and the buzz of your thoughts traveling back to the events of this morning only grew louder with every passing second.

You had been waiting for a few minutes, and the girl sitting at the table outside the room had already come in three times to offer you coffee. Finally, you politely accepted, hoping it would stop her from coming in and looking at you nervously.

Not that you wanted to be alone. The last thing you needed right now was to be alone with your thoughts, replaying Jungkook’s gaze when you left the kitchen this morning. But at the same time, if she wasn’t planning to start a conversation that could distract you, you didn’t want to be faced with that glazed look that would only make you anxious.

When the door clicked open again, a tall, sharp-suited woman stepped in this time, clipboard in hand. She offered you a polite smile and you immediately stood up, offering a slight bow to the woman as you returned her warm smile.

“Thank you so much for joining us on such short notice, Miss Kang,” she said as she approached you, extending her hand. “I’m Kim Injae, the head of the department.”

You shook her hand, her grip firm but not overpowering, the kind that transmitted confidence without arrogance. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kim. Thank you for having me.”

“Oh, honey, please, drop the formalities and call me Injae,” she said warmly as the two of you took your seats acroos from each other by the glass-top table. Her tone softened slightly, though her professional edge remained. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we called you here today.”

You offered another smile, folding your hands in your lap.

“The thought did cross my mind, yes,” you admitted, keeping your tone light despite the undercurrent of curiosity—and, admittedly, nervousness—that you felt.

Injae leaned forward slightly, her well-manicured hands resting elegantly on the table, as she opened the folder she brought with her. If there was one way to describe her, it would be like staring at a brunette, Korean version of Donatella Versace—elegant, sharp, and undeniably commanding.

“Well, we’ve been following your work for some time, Y/N. When Hyejin brought you in last year to work with the Bangtan Boys, we were really impressed with you,” she paused, her sharp gaze meeting yours. “We would have liked to keep you with them as their lead stylist, but given the personal circumstances between you and one of their members, we couldn’t.

Your stomach dropped slightly at her words, though you kept your expression neutral. Have you been called here to respond to a disciplinary lawsuit?

It couldn't be. Two months ago, when you deliberately decided to quit your job here so you could stay with Jungkook without having to hide your relationship, it was still a secret. The two of you only came clean when you were no longer associated with the company or BTS in an employment capacity.

And luckily for you, it was right at the time when Elle Magazine Korea offered you the position as their editorial stylist, so everything ended up working out perfectly.

Deep down, you knew that you loved working as a tour stylist and designer more than anything else, second only to your dream of designing your own clothing brand. Which is why the decision wasn’t as easy as you made it seem at the time.

“I understand,” you replied carefully, maintaining your professionalism. “It was an incredible experience, and I’m grateful for the opportunity I had.”

Injae nodded, her expression unreadable as she leafed through the pages carefully. “It’s unfortunate when personal and professional lines blur,” Then she stopped for a second, looking back at you with a smile. “But the heart wants what it wants, right?”

Her words lingered in the air, a delicate balance between acknowledgment and understanding. You felt your cheeks warm slightly but maintained your composure, offering her a polite smile in return.

"I guess so," you admitted cautiously, unsure of how much to reveal.

“That being said, I do recognize talent when I see it,” Injae said, keeping her tone steady. “and you, Y/N, are undeniably talented. Which is why we’re sitting here today.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you processed Injae's words, feeling yourself relax in the chair now that you knew you weren't being prosecuted or punished. She had a way of being direct yet warm, and her casual remark made your stomach flutter with hope.

Still, you held your composure, giving her just an appreciative smile. “I’m honored to hear that, honestly.”

“You study at Central Saint Martins, right?” she asked, fixing her glasses on the tip of the nose. You simply nodded and she continued. “That’s amazing. And not only that, I’ve gone through your resume before and I must say, your experience is impressive.”

Injae’s words washed over you, her tone carrying a mixture of admiration and curiosity that made you sit a little straighter, your head held high with humble pride. You knew exactly what your accomplishments in your chosen profession were, and no one was prouder of them than you. Still, it wasn’t every day someone showered you with compliments like this, listing them off with such genuine admiration.

So you managed another polite smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you nodded once again and she carried on, leaned forward and resting her elbows on the table.

“It’s amazing that at such a young age, you already managed to work with multiple international artists and you were even responsible for making the big brand ambassadors.”

Her words made another flush of pride rise in your chest, though you maintained your professional demeanor. “Thank you so much, Injae. I’ve been fortunate to work with some incredible teams and artists.”

“Fortunate, yes,” she agreed, “but talent and hard work don’t go unnoticed, and yours is evident.”

Injae’s sharp gaze softened just slightly, and she tapped a perfectly manicured finger on the glass table.

You inclined your head slightly in gratitude. “I’ve always believed in pushing boundaries and challenging myself. Fashion is constantly evolving, and I love being part of that evolution, creating pieces that not only reflect it but provide it to others.”

“Precisely,” Injae said, her approval evident. ”It’s why I believe you’re the perfect fit for the spot that recently appeared in our department.”

“I’m honored that you think so,” you said earnestly.

Her lips curved into a small smile, and she leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “For obvious reasons, you can't work with BTS. Which I assume you already know.”

“Yes,” you answered, almost whispering, remembering yourself to take a deep breath each time you were reminded of the consequences of your choices and the reasons you had made them in the first place.

Injae’s smile widened just a fraction, the glint of intrigue in her eyes. “But, that doesn't mean you can't work with any other group in the company.”

Your heart skipped a beat for a second, anticipation swirling inside you as her words hung in the air like a hopeful promise. You straightened in your seat once again, your fingers lightly grazing the edge of the polished table to hold yourself together from bursting with excitement over something she hadn’t even said yet.

“One of our groups recently lost their lead stylist,” she began, her tone now practical. “And we need someone with experience, creativity, and adaptability. Someone who can handle the intensity of a global tour while elevating their image and branding. In short, we want you to fill the spot.”

Your heart raced against your ribcage as her words echoed in your mind, leaving no room for doubts. The implications were clear: this could be your chance to step back into a role you’d thought you’d left behind—a role that allowed you to do what you loved most. This wasn’t just a job, it was a massive opportunity.

“Oh, wow,” you said, overwhelmed, carefully trying to keep your tone steady and not squeaky. “It means a lot to me, being recognized like this.”

Injae smiled warmly, her sharpness softening just a fraction. “You’ll be the lead stylist, which means that you’ll also be the one setting the tone, overseeing an entire team of stylists, designing the group tour outfits and getting brands to collaborate with the artists,” she explained. “It’s a leadership role, and it’ll test your ability to balance artistry with management.”

You nodded again, the gravity of her words settled over you, the enormity of this opportunity both thrilling and daunting. This was more than anything you had ever done or dreamed before.

“Their tour starts in two weeks,” she said, continuing her explanation, looking down at the pages in front of her again. “Don’t worry, though, most of the pieces are already finished, and just some of them still need to be finalized, adjusted, and selected. After that, they’ll have a month off, and you’ll have plenty of time and resources to make any changes or create whatever you feel is necessary.”

Your mind was already spinning with possibilities. Two weeks to finalize styling for a tour was tight, but it wasn’t unfamiliar territory. “It is a tight schedule. But I’ve worked under similar constraints before. I’ll make it work.”

“I had no doubt you would,” Injae replied with confidence. She closed the folder in front of her with a decisive snap, then leaned forward slightly. “That’s why you’re here. But that's not all. I’ll have my assistant email every detail and everything that will fall under your responsibility as the lead stylist. As well as the contract and an overview of the team and current wardrobe inventory.”

You nodded, your mind already spinning with anticipation and plans. “Thank you. I’ll review everything as soon as it comes through.”

She paused for a moment before continuing, her tone softening. “Y/N, I know stepping back into this world might feel like stepping back into the past actions, but I trust that you’ll use all of your experience, both personal and professional, to excel here.”

You couldn’t ignore the double meaning in her words. Though your chest tightened slightly at the thought of past entanglements, you focused on the opportunity ahead.

Besides, what were the chances of finding yourself in a situation like the one before? You were happy with Jungkook and weren’t looking for a boyfriend or anything else in that area.

As you’d said before: he was the only exception.

“Of course,” you said sincerely. “I won’t let you down.”

“Good,” Injae said simply, her tone cool and authoritative. “Because this group isn’t just any group, they’re at the peak of their careers, and the eyes of the country are on them. Your work will define part of their image, and in turn, their legacy.”

“I understand,” you replied, meeting her gaze directly. “May I ask what group we are talking about?

A hint of amusement flickering in her sharp gaze, realizing that she had forgotten the most important part. “Oh, did I not mention?” she tilted her head slightly. “Are you familiar with Seventeen?”

If you liked this feel free to let me know with a like, reblog, comment, whatever you prefer! ❤️

★ TAGLIST

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aerynwrites · 17 hours ago

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Sacrifices

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader x John "Soap" MacTavish

A/N: sorry for posting a day late. Been busy with holiday things, work and school. Hope you enjoy! and if you do please consider leaving a comment or reblog! even if you just scream into the tags i really really do love reading your all's thoughts - incoherent or not haha. Word Count: 3k Warnings: Canon typical Violence, (attempted) self sacrifice, mentions of grenade based injuries, description of gore/injury, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, soft/fluff towards the end. Summary: The team is on a mission and quickly becoming overwhelmed. In the middle of a push through enemy lines, reader is the only one who notices the grenade that was thrown. She acts to save the men she loves.

The firefight has been constant it seems like, your entire group pinned down between sandbags and barricades and royally pissed off Russian soldiers. infiltration has been slow - almost nonexistent, your group moving forward only a few feet at a time, rushing from one barely there cover to the next.

Your comms erupt with staticky calls of enemy movement before abruptly clicking off as gunfire takes its place. Shouts from Price and Ghost trying to get air support and medical and god knows what else, just anything to help you all.

The mission has gone to shit. Gone from infiltrate and extract to a fight for your lives.

“Sunny, you with me?”

Gaz’s voice fills your ears, your callsign pulling you from your own mind as you move to click the button to respond.

“Repeat.”

“I see an opening,” Gaz says again, and you look over at him from where he sits several feet away from you, behind a concrete barrier matching your own.

He gestures with his hands towards some cover a few yards up, and after a quick glance and no small calculations of your own, you think it might work. Ghost and Soap are already there, having made the move ages ago but leaving you and Gaz unable to join them.

If you can all get together, you might stand a chance at rushing the remaining enemies, pushing your way into the base and…

You nod.

“I’ll cover you,” Gaz says, “Then you three will cover me.”

“Got it,” you say, voice buzzing in your own ears. “As good a plan as any, at this rate.”

An all to familiar rough baritone fills your ears, and you have to fight back the smile twitching at your lips.

“If ya quit your yapping,” Ghost says, voice firm, “You’d both be ‘ere by now.”

“On my mark…” Gaz says.

And then he’s calling out, a storm of bullets raining down as you sprint towards your team mates. the noise is deafening yet despite it all, it’s like you can hear everything.

The beat of your heart in your chest. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

The blood rushing in your ears, the sounds of your rubber soled boots hitting the cracked concrete.

Thump, thump

The rush of air in and out of your lungs.

Thump, thump.

The all too familiar gentle jingle of a grenade pin.

Thump, thump,

Two more breaths. Too long, you think.

Thump, thump.

The sound of metal clattering against concrete.

Thump. Thump.

No one’s seen it, the rattle of gunfire too loud, their focus too drawn in by the enemy.

Thump, Thump.

It’s close to Soap and Ghost, just behind them - too close-

“Grenade!”

Your voice is barely audible over the chaos, the sound that your heartbeat was drowning out crashing over you all at once as you throw the entirety of your body weight forward. Soap had heard you just as your fingers dig their way under the straps of his tac vest, shoving him forward and down, right on top of your startled lieutenant who sees what you’re doing much to late to change the course of events.

“Sunny, no-!”

Soap collides with Ghost - bodies toppling onto crumbling concrete, unable to keep their feet underneath them as you fall on top of them. You wrap your arms around Soap as the grenade explodes, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you try your damndest to shield him and Ghost from it.

It happens fast - faster than you’d ever imagined something like this happening - faster than your sprint over here. There’s a flash of light, burning heat, shouts cut off by a deafening blast as searing pain shoot through you.

Metal on your tongue.

More gunfire.

You think your comms are going off but your head feels like its spitting open, ears ringing and you feel like your burning and freezing all at once. Teeth chattering and adding to that blasted ringing in your ears-

“-get out of there now!”

That you hear, along with the warnings of in coming air support.

Instinctively you go to move, but pain blinds you, ripping a scream from your throat as pain shoots from your side up to your arm and down to your very toes.

Soap is above you then, eyes panicked as he looks from you down your body then back up at Ghost.

“Lt! What the bleedin’ hell are we doin’!” He yells, fighting to be heard over the gunfire.

You take this moment to look around, chest heaving as you struggle to breath, mind desperately searching for context.

Ghost is up again, gun pointed over the concrete barrier as he continues to lay cover fire. You’re vaguely aware of Gaz just behind you, yelling into his comms about a man down and needing medical immediately and ‘we have to move!’

Your eyes then fall down to assess yourself, only to feel complete and utter fear pin you to the ground beneath you. Your side - the little exposed below your tac vest, your hip and your leg-

You have to look away to fight the vomit fighting its way up your throat. It’s a bloody mess - literally.nSoaps hands are covered in the viscous liquid as he put pressure on the gaping wounds, trying to stem the blood pouring from your leg. You think you saw bone-

Black seeps in at the corners of your vision and you are only kept from the creeping darkness by a warm hand on your face as Soap’s own appears above you, and - why is it wet?

“Hey! Hey lass, none of tha’ now-” he gently taps your cheek. “Now why did you go ‘an do something right stupid like that?” He asks, trying to force that teasing lilt into his words but failing as the panic overrides it.

Your mind is turning to mush, tongue heavy in your mouth as that coldness from earlier starts to slowly creep forward, starting at your fingers and moving ever upwards.

“Do…do what?” You ask, fighting against chattering teeth.

Ghost turns then, speaking between breaks of gunfire as the telltale sounds of jets appear in the distance.

“Use yourself as a fucking human shield is what!” He bellows, and even in your delirious state you can see the wrath in his eyes as he shoulders his gun once again, pointing at Soap. “Get her up, we have to move now! Or whatever heroic bloody deed she was trying to commit will be for nothing-”

Gaz speaks now, glancing from you to Ghost.

“Lt. I don’t think she’ll-”

Ghost lunges forward then, gripping Gaz’s vest in his hands so tight you’re worried.

“Don’t finish that sentence, Garrick,” Ghost bites. “No man left behind. Ever. Now move!”

Soap barely has time to mutter an apology before he tying something around your leg and yanking you up from the ground.

The pain is all consuming. You think you scream but can feel it being cut off as something wet comes up on a cough. That all too familiar metal taste flooding your tongue.

It hits you then, with the taste of blood in your mouth and the tunnel vision closing in..

You’re dying.

The world shudders around you as Soap runs full speed with your team, trying in vain to keep you as steady as possible as Ghost and Gaz lay cover fire for your retreat.

Your head lolls backward, knocking against Johnny’s arm with every step, and you just manage to see the vapor trails of fighter jets above you, the white wispy clouds left behind giving you an odd sense of comfort in this moment.

Johnny looks down at you as the earth shakes beneath his boots and he barely even stumbles.

He always was the most agile of you all, Ghost the strongest - both of them protective. Even now you can feel Johnny’s arms tighten around you, can hear Ghost’s commanding shouts- although you can’t make out what he says.

You’re too far gone for that.

Your fingers grip weakly at the various pockets and straps of Johnny’s tac vest as he starts to slow to a stop. You’re in the forest now, the towering tops of the trees creating a vast circle in your ever narrowing vision. A clearing?

Wow...the sky is pretty too. A very faint pinkish hue dusting the sky behind the fluffy clouds. It must be approaching evening, the sun moving to sink below the horizon…

Night time…sleep sounds really good right about now. You’ve been fighting it - the pain being your main focus, but now it’s all you want to do. Even the pain is starting to fade-

“No, no - “ another tap to your cheek and your eyes flutter open weakly.

Johnny’s face is above you again, and you realize he’s kneeled down on the ground again, your legs outstretched in front of you as Gaz works quickly to try and do something about your injuries.

Ghost is there too, and he’s no longer shouting, just breathing hard into his mask as he gazes down at you - that earlier anger replaced by…is that worry? Concern…fear?

“I must…” you trail off,breathing a herculean task. “I must be pretty…pretty bad if you’re scared, Simon.”

Ghost flinches at the use of his real name. It was an unspoken rule to never use it in the field. Never use it outside of you and him and Johnny together. Never use it unless if was just you three or in more intimate moments.

Yeah. Simon is fucking terrified. Feels like his heart is about to plummet into the dirt. Feels like his whole world is crumbling down around him-

“Why did you do that?” He finally asks, voice losing its rough edge as he reaches up to wipe at something on your cheek. Probably blood. “Why?”

You smile then. Despite everything, you smile.

“Couldn’t…” another wheezing breath in, “Couldn’t let them get…my boys.”

Soap breaks then, a broken sound ripping from his chest as he reaches up with his free hand to grip onto one of your own, bringing it up to press chapped lips to bloodied knuckles.

You can’t feel the tears when they fall onto your skin, but you see the tracks they leave in the crimson stains. Follow them as they slide from the valley of your fingers over the back of your hand before disappearing beneath the sleeves of your uniform.

“Don’t cry,” you whisper, before choking on another cough.

The wind picks up now, and you can see the tree branches quiver violently.

“Evac’s here!” Gaz calls, and you can see the hope that sparks in their eyes as the blades of the helicopter come into view.

Soap looks down again, another kiss to you knuckles before he’s moving taking you into his arms as he stands.

It doesn’t hurt at all this time.

“They’re ‘ere, bonnie,” he says, voice cracking. “Gonna fix you right up-”

You don’t hear the rest.

The thrum of helicopter blades drown him out and then, just as you see a team of medics jump from the interior, darkness finally consumes you.

At least they’re safe.

It was all worth it. Just for that.

———

Waking up is like trying to wade through knee deep snow. It takes all of your energy, and every moment feels like an eternity with little to no progress. But you keep pushing, snippets of voices and small sounds urging you forward.

Two voices in particular. Familiar. Warm. Scared.

“I never thought I’d be the one by your bedside.” Ghost. “A bloody idiot you are. But our idiot, so don’t,” is he crying? “Don’t you fucking die on me.”

You hear Johnny next, it’s the only other voice your brain seems to register in this thick fog of unconsciousness. Along with the feather light brush of fingers in your own.

“Still cannae believe ya did it,” you can’t find it in you to be sorry. “Please, wake up lass…please.”

You eventually do - Wake up that is.

And what a bloody nightmare it is. Blinding lights, the deafening beeping of a monitor in your ear, people shouting but only two of them are familiar, fighting to stay in the chaotic room as Doctors rush about an shine lights in your eyes and ask you all kinds of questions and then-

It’s over.

It’s over and you have a flimsy plastic cup of water being shoved into your hands and fingers carding through your hair and lips pressed against your temple before two sets of eyes fix on you. One chocolate brown and the other a piercing blue as they look at you expectantly.

It’s a stand off for longer than you anticipated. Neither Johnny nor Simon speaking and you trying to catch up with how fast your brain is moving. Eventually you move to speak after taking another sip of water, a few drops slipping past your lips as your hands shake slightly.

“I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

Simon throws his hands up, a scoff slipping passed his masked lips, the sound muffled by the black surgical mask adorning his face.

“Of course that’s the first bloody thing you say-”

“Well I’m not!” You argue, frustration bubbling up in your chest as the heart monitor slowly speeds up.

Johnny tries to step in. “Lass, we dinnae expect an apology-”

Simon cuts him off.

“Speak for yourself,” he steps closer to the side of the bed, gripping the side-rail in a white knuckled grip. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was? Throwing yourself in front of us like that?”

You have to fight back the tears you feel burning at the back of your eyes. Anger, frustration, guilt all bubbling together in your chest in a confusing mix of emotions.

Why is he giving you the third degree?

“It’s not like I planned it Simon, I didn’t think-”

“You’re fucking right you didn’t think!” Simon roars, voice reverberating off the walls of the small hospital room.

Johnny reaches out then, hand firm on Simon’s shoulder as he tries to pull him away from you. “Simon, that’s enough-!”

He shoves his hand away, turning to pin the sergeant with a fiery gaze before turning his attention back to you.

“No Johnny,” he bites before addressing you again. “Did you know you died?”

The words shock you, making you physically flinch back into the bed as Simons stares you down. And it’s in this suffocating silence that his statement brought on that you finally see it. The fear in his eyes. The fear that wavers just beneath the watery lash line of the eyes you’ve come to find solace in.

You shake your head softly.

“I…I died?”

Johnny nods, sniffling softly before swiping a hand down his face.

“For five minutes,” He says softly, finally moving to sink into one of the chairs by your bed.

“You died,” Simon repeats, voice having lost its angry edge. “And you could’ve stayed dead. Then you would’ve been six feet under with nothin’ but a fucking medal an’ a picture on the wall and-” he chokes. “And where would we be? Where would we be without you?”

Johnny takes your hand in his own - the familiar calloused warmth soothing to your battered mind and body. You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in and out in measured beats as you try to digest this information. You’re only brought out of it when another hand takes your free one - this one also familiar in a slightly different way.

It reminds you of why you did it in the first place. You love them. Both of them in their own unique way. Johnny is big and all consuming and loud and boisterous but gentile and just slightly soft around the edges when he needs to be. His hands are calloused and warm but smoother on the palms.

Simon is…he’s somewhat opposite. He’s quiet and reserved and frankly quite intimidating on the outside. His words are few but meaningful. He’s large and imposing and can scare the living daylights out of someone when he wants but when he’s with you and Johnny…he’s different. He’s all gentle words and soft touches - as if you’re made of fine porcelain and he’s the bull in the china shop. His hands are cooler than Johnny’s but still soft in places and still just as comforting.

“I love you,” you finally whisper, eyes peeling open to look at the men by your sides.

“I…I can’t apologize because I love you,” you explain. “And if I had to do it all over again, I would. It was just…instinct.”

They’re both silent for a moment, your words sinking in until Simon lets out a rather uncharacteristic sniffle. He tugs down his mask, pressing his thumb and forefinger into his eyes before bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss to your knuckles.

“Yeah, well…” his voice is thick with emotion. “Leave the sacrificin’ to us in the future, okay love?”

He doesn’t say much more, never being one to talk much about how he feels, but you understand what was left unsaid. And so does Johnny, apparently voicing what your shared partner can’t.

“He’s right, lass,” he agrees, lips tugging up in the smile you’ve come to adore. “We just got somethin’ good. Too good for the likes of us. Cannae go losin’ it now.”

You send both of them a smile of your own, but it’s damped by the tears that finally spill over. Not sad ones necessarily, but tears created out of love and pure adoration for the men before you.

The tears don’t make it far before Simon is reaching out, cradling your face in his hands, thumbs wiping them away before pulling his mask down just enough to press his lips to your own. You return the gesture, squeezing his hand when he pulls away.

You then tug Johnny towards you, sniffling before giving him a quick kiss as well when he leans in. Then before you can move two sets of arms are wrapped around you, careful of your wounds but holding onto you fiercely. Whispered ‘I love you’s’ are murmured into your skin, fingers carding through you hair as you all finally relish in each other’s presence.

For now you were all alive - alive and able to hold one another.

And that would just have to be good enough.

#cod x reader #soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simone ghost riley x reader #john mactavish x reader

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shuenkio · 2 days ago

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LoserXLover | 희승 헨.하.이.픈. (⁠⇀⁠‸⁠↼⁠‶⁠)⁠ᕗ💨

Paring: Loser!seung X M!reader

Genre: Smut Synopsis: Being such a brat he is, you decided to punish your boyfriend in a very edgy way. Cw: pure smut, cum undone, edging, freaky af, cursing, dirty talk.

English is not my 1st | This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A$N: from an anon request! This is probably my last update this month since next month who knows I'd be busy but I won't accept any requests sooner. Btw 'but' using alot here, ignore it 🥲 I'm having a mental breakdowns trying to make it perfect I'm suck still at writing smau.

Finished schedule for today's promotion is a relief that everything went smoothly yet there's something that has bothered you lately which you have bottled up for sometimes now. Despite being a sub-leader in the big group full of older boys at a young age, it is half bad and half good. The good parts were already doing great the nice ones while the bad part is they're grown boys.

You'd question your own self that it is worth it? In a frustrated good way of course. Not only are all of them a ball of chaotic energy but they're also clingy, teasing, if they'll tease you, all you need was a punching bag sand to Express your annoying. However it gets used to it till it becomes a habit and sort of like everyday shit. And that's not the case for nowadays. Heeseung the oldest hyung is getting on your nerves lately.

One was he accidentally made a small mistake during the finish part today on stage yeah that's forgiven but still driving you nuts as a perfectionist you are. Two, at the dorm, Heeseung would leave his ramen bowl without washing, dishes soaked in the sink for days unless you point it out. It's one of the hell rides having the same floor and dorm with him.

Not to mention Ni-ki says nothing about this as if he is not in the same dorm. Three, the gamer boy is getting out of hand. The nagging, the yelling, the reminding is just an air that went from one ear to another gosh how difficult can he become more. He's not a damn teenager but a 23 year old guy. Did he do all of these on purpose or is it just so unbelievable that you thought this was some kind of joke? Only god knows.

By doing all of the voices won't make him flinch anymore you'd have to come with some other punishment to make him won't repeat all of the childish behavior anymore that could leave him a bit traumatized, for some time in a very good~ way. What if he might love the idea more? Only to find out. Burst in his personal room, leaning against the door way as you are staring at the lazy guy who is on the bed, scrolling on his phone as if he didn't have a busy schedule the next day. Closing the door behind, as you make you way closer before sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Heeseung hyung? We need to talk!" Murmur in a serious tone yet so calmly, request for talking. But in return he just hums in response, rooting to the core as if his body is stuck on the bed which makes you have to control yourself from being violence.

"please sit up, before I change my mind" is another demand yet this time he did as he was told. Sitting up, resting his head on the headboard.

"yes? M/n What do you want to talk about?"

"about your behavior, not to be disrespectful but this is not how I wanted you to act hyung!, you're 23 not a toddler" You claim, explain in as calm a way as possible. However, it seems like it won't work on him ever.

"I am the way I am m/n what are you... Talking about? I know I'm the oldest but I don't act like a child you say, don't just come up like that" Heeseung response, his tone is slightly offensive to your words but that makes him look even more stubborn. How can he even let those slip out. Anger boil almost explodes, trying to maintain your compose while explaining how many things about him that bother you a lot as a sub/co leader that left Heeseung dumbfounded.

But that won't last long when he just ignores the fact, carry on acting like a brat once you finish talking. This is getting out of hand, you force yourself to give him one last chance before a disaster would occur.

"what are you gonna do about me then? I'll like how I am right now, leave my room you're such a headache for me m/n, hyung need alone time" Scoff is all what left your sweet mouth, this is so irritated it's like telling a siblings to go bed time but they denying. What's more irritated? The fact he was your loser boyfriend makes it worse. Heeseung turned away and sat on his desk, opening his computer to play some games. Would you let that happen? Not this time. Stroking away your hair in boil pointed before locking the door tight, making your way to your boyfriend.

This might be the first time you've had to punish your brat lover. Seeing the sock scatter on the floor, you come up with an idea, if you can't punish him emotionally, how about physically? Smirking, like the idea so much. Before Heeseung could wear his headphones on, his gamer chair turned around by your grips. Slightly starlet the next thing he knows, both of his hands are tied up by his own socks. A very lovely sight to see such submissiveness. Yelping, confused running through his head to your new side, he can't help but to be afraid one bit, asked.

"m/n?? What are you doing? Untied me now, this is not funny.." speak in a shaky voice, as he sees your unusual attitude. Meanwhile deep down inside of him, he knows what's going to come for him. Somehow he liked it? Or he just pretends to drive you nuts so he could get this attention of yours?

"You're never gonna like it, and I won't stop until you reflect your own shitty behavior, hyung!" Waste no more time, your body lean close to him as your naughty finger sneaking on his crotch. Fiddle on his pants, around in a circling, teasing to make it rocket hard as you planning to make him so hard, so dry until he begged oh wait, why don't you make him edge? Those feelings are the worst haha.Heeseung squirmed under your touch, in a trembling breath. he was expecting this but This just feels so different, the idea of you would stroking him only to make his soft dick hurt from the tight fabric. And the fact he didn't stop you makes sense that he was waiting for this. Biting on his lower lip he stays quiet, silently enjoying your touch on his meat. He wanted to please you so badly, to make you touch him even more than this, not only to play but to make use of it.

Realized Heeseung is actually enjoying this, making you angry even more, he can't enjoy this, you need to make it hard for him to ever even feel good. In another one swift move, you unzip his pant, let it spring free out a twitching, huge hard throbbing dick that is leaking already. Such a good start,a clean cut tip free is so arousing to look at, and abuse it.

"p- please i... It kinda hurts you have to finish it m/n, y.. you're the one who started this" pleasing, his hand are tied up, it reasonable that he wanted you to finished it up as he leaking so much already ehh those transparent sticky stuff on his head.

"No, let me hear something else. Where is the brat gone hmm? I don't see any"

"but—m/n I'm not in the wrong, I'm just being myself everyday like how my routine, what do you expect from me?" He fired back, getting real pain in the ass . How brave he is to spit those out. Snort out loudly that click heeseung in the head that, he did it for himself just now, he'll be in big trouble.

"you're getting brave for real now hyung I think I might pee myself from it, but I think hmm oh well, you seriously push my buttons" Before hee can react, you hand wrapped on his shaft tightly, stroking him so fast that makes his head spinning to the weirdly speed pace. He moaned shamelessly, filled in the small space with his vocal like he was on the edge to see heaven. His stretchy hairy balls jiggle each movement you jerk him off , making a raw plopping sound mixed with pain and pleasure without liquid. Your bf's chest becomes more hitching and breathless, he wanted to scream so bad in high pitch but he couldn't, afraid the other who was in the same dorm might hear.

He knows and you know he can't do anything but to beg for your mercy. Instead It's the opposite of what you expected, you thought you'd hear him begging, whining, for mercy to stop but he was actually asking for more, and he really wanted to release it off, so impatiently. Knowing his weak spot, what are you waiting for? Masturbating his dick harder, in another brutal speed that left his eye nothing but a white eyes ball. His brain malfunctioned, feeling senseless at the moment. A few more strokes later, Heeseung started to feel jolted as his body signal he'd cum at anytime unpredicted soon.

"H- holy motherfucking shit m/n— I...I'm about to cum please... please I wanted to cum c...can I?" Hearing him beg for mercy and being so submissive for the first time make your body goosebumps, thrilling wash over as you actually found him adorable in this state or did they call that a... Kink? A new discovery kink? No way, you need to see more of this. You want more whimpers from him, making him beg, and submissive ugh so fucking turn on.

Enough with the thinking, his body soon shaking in a sign of soon to explode and your plan was to edge him off, what would he react to if you did it? Isn't it going to be fun??

"Ah...ohh... Fuck m/n I'm cumming I'm cumming I'm CUMIN— NO" he yelled it out, to be come undone but before he can cum you quickly pull your hand away for a good seconds which make him going nut on the spot, finally his body shattered undone in a half satisfied, splashing all his hot sperms on his own sweatpants. His body odor perfume all over the room, the scent of his cum, smells like cow milk, that's crazy. And Nor did he be mad or sad, his expression is clearly he's not satisfied with your action. However at least he did cum.

"why... Why did you do that? For what for??M/N?"

"This is your first punishment, you should remember this from now on. If you continue to act so stubborn again, I bet there's more evil punishment for my loser boyfriend and not just edging you— do you get it?hm?"

"y...yes my.. love I'll be a good boy.. and your good boyfriend I...I'm sorry I'll be better" he was scared ...

"that's what I love about you— very demure very lovely very good boy"

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lostintransist · 18 hours ago

Text

Fallen Angel | Three Small Squeezes

Leaning on John is one of your favorite positions to chill on the couch. All the guys were muscly, a side effect of their jobs, but something about John brought a layer of softness the others were lacking. Tucked up under one arm with his hand resting on your bent knee, you relaxed for probably an hour.

John watched something on his phone, one headphone in. You scrolled through shorter videos volume low, but loud enough to still hear.

“Today we are making –“

Swipe.

“You may have heard about the newest gadget –“

Swipe.

Ad.

Swipe.

Thirst trap. Ooh, you might watch, you feel John turn his head to look down at your screen. You pause before anything too sexy gets on screen, send it to a friend so you can find it later, like the video, and swipe on.

Your favorite, healthy, couple appears on your screen.

“What’s one thing we do to help keep everything from going off the rails even with four kids?” The husband asks.

“We say I love you. A lot. Sometimes when we can’t speak, we give three quick squeezes.” His wife picks up the telling. “Sometimes in the middle of a kid screaming a hand on yours with three quick squeezes saying I love you helps.”

Before you can scroll John pulls your phone from your hand.

“What the fuck John?” You tip your head back and glare up at him.

He smirks down at you and drops a kiss on your forehead. After messing with your phone for a second, from what you can see he sent the video link in a text, he hands it back.

When his hand settles back on your knee he gives you three quick squeezes. Curious about who he sent the video to, you leave the video app and open your messages. There at the top of the chats is your group chat with all the guys.

Firing off a follow-up text you tell them John sent the link from your phone.

>Sorry about the random video. John stole my phone and sent it.

A chorus of hearts appeared on your message.

Every one of them started doing it though. Simon would give your side three small squeezes with his hand when he pulled you into a side hug. Gary would drop three kisses on your hair or the back of your hand before he left the room. Kyle would tap you three times with a finger to get your attention. Johnny would grab your hand for the sole purpose of giving you three squeezes before pulling you into a hug or onto the couch for a cuddle.

You worried they might want more than you could provide but soaked in the love nonetheless. These men had a hard enough time telling you much about their jobs or lives beyond your observation. Each of them told you ‘I love you’ with three touches at least once each time you saw them.

@backseatsoldier sending loves and kisses your way.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

#Fallen Angel COD #cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #price x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #roach x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #asexual reader #lostintransit #lostintransit writing

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blackbirdsblackberries · 13 hours ago

Text

I Hate The New Hero!

Part 7 - Three Stooges And A Minty Accident

Just a warning, there will be an allergic reaction in this chapter, I don't know if it does call for a warning or not but I just want to be safe! Also, Characters are somewhat ooc, so, sorry for that!!

Water drips onto the tiled floor as you stand in the broken down bathroom of the apartment. Your hands grip onto the sinks and you look at your puffy, icky complexion.

You'd like to say you had taken the humiliation with grace, just simply walked it off. But you didn't, you couldn't stop the tears falling down you heading home and you're sure if there were anymore tears left to cry you would still be crying.

Honestly though, what were you expecting? You had a feeling something bad would happen, it's the Waynes after all.

Your phone is now unusable so you can't even contact your friends Sherri and Tia, both of whom you haven't spoken to much in the past couple of days.

You feel bad, the girls had been there for you since day 1. You're sure that if you had told them about your hero persona they'd support and try to help you - because that's what friends do.

You sigh as you decide to take a warm shower, you can already tell you're going to get sick but can only hope that somehow the spider bite would stop it from happening too harshly.

The water is warm on your skin as you stand there disassociating. You wish you stay there forever but your parents definitely wouldn't appreciate you raising the water bills.

You get out and dress in something comfortable - and more importantly, dry.

The whole day has been a shitshow and you just want to die. But, you are anything but a quitter - at least, you hope so.

Deciding to open up the laptop you see the time is already 3pm, that means school is out! Sherry and Tia are probably online now, so, you message them on the laptop.

You desperately needed a distraction from everything so Sherri, Tia and you decide to head to a nice cafe - one that doesn't have a bucket of ice cold water waiting to fall on you.

Heading to your room you put on your shoes and fish out $10 from a small piggy bank in your wooden chest. You head to the nearby cafe, a pep in your step as you go.

Meanwhile Duke was hanging out with Steph and Cass, the two girls wanting to invite him along to one of their outings, they had gotten pedicures, did some shopping, walked around a park and were now stopping at a cafe to get some drinks.

They hadn't checked the GC all day - in fact, they had silenced it due to the amount of messages going through.

Steph orders a chocolate milkshake, Cass orders a mint tea and Duke decides to order a hot chocolate. He was meant to be patrolling today but today was oddly peaceful so he decided against it.

The three sit down at a nearby table, unaware of the three people waiting in line behind them.

You however were not so oblivious. As soon as you walk in your face falls and a bad feeling washes over you - something bad is about to happen. Your spidey senses didn't need to enact for you to tell.

Still, you power through. Your friends are excited about this cafe and you don't want to be a buzzkill..

"(Reader)? Helloooo?" Tia waves a hand in front of your face jokingly as you snap out of your dread-filled state. You chuckle and roll your eyes playfully "Stop it Tia! You aren't funny!"

Tia gasps and dramatically puts a hand on her chest and pouts. "(Readerrrrrrr), you're actually so mean! Are you a secret villain or something?"

Before you can respond Sherri comes back, having ordered the drinks for you all. The cafe is crowded and you guys either have the choice of sitting next to a group of suspicious men or the three heroes.

Before you can weigh in Tia and Sherri already move to the table next to Steph, Cass and Duke so you have no choice but to sigh and follow, hoping nothing bad happens.

Duke glances over at the three who had sat at the table next to theirs out of curiosity. Upon seeing (Reader) he stiffens up slightly - out of everyone he's the one who has some of the least beef with (Reader) because he's convinced that if (Reader) just talks to Aranea then they'd stop being such a hater.

Yet, he knows Steph will make a deal of it if she sees (Reader) there, with snarky remarks made loud enough for the other three to hear, glares and dirty looks and possibly even confrontation. Cass wouldn't really react, she doesn't have much of an opinion on (Reader), at least not that she speaks on.

So overall, he's gotta try and not have Steph notice. Luckily, despite the cafe being to busy everyone already had their drinks and food. It was only Duke's group and (Reader)'s group left to be served. And as luck would have it both orders came at the same time.

You're laughing with your friends, trying to not draw attention to yourself - you could feel Duke glancing at you from time to time and pray that he won't start anything.

You get your drink, excited to finally get (Favorite drink) after so long. These days you rarely have the chance to get it, either not having time or not having money.

Sherri is joking around with Tia and you take a sip of your drink, too engrossed with the conversation to notice something off until the third sip.

Pausing you stare down at your drink and lick your lips. "Uh guys, this isn't my drink.." You state, looking at them. Normally it wouldn't be such a big deal but this time it was - you just had three regular sized sips of mint tea.

Mint is an allergy you picked up from the spider bite. Something you are now deathly allergic to.

At the same time Cass has already noticed that it isn't the drink she had ordered. She noticed straight away but Steph was too busy rambling on about some high school drama to let anyone else get a word in.

It's not that big of a deal for her, it's just that this drink wasn't her favorite. Looking to the table next to her she sees (Reader) with their friends, the cafe is very loud so she has to strain to listen to their conversation but by facial expressions alone she can tell.

Nothing good is happening.

Sherri is freaking out, like seriously freaking out. She gets up from her chair and quickly goes to call an ambulance, only stopped by you gripping onto her arm - it's too expensive to go to the hospital by ambulance.

Tia is by your side trying to make sure you stay conscious, she's also searching up remedies to try and help.

Your tongue is swollen, your mouth is itchy and your throat feels like it's closing in. Your abdomen is screaming in pain and you feel like vomiting, you can't breath yet you need to cough. You feel dizzy, your pulse beating slowly in your ears. It's too much..

The commotion draws attention of onlookers including Steph and Duke - Cass was already watching.

Duke is horrified - your face is purple-ish red! You're scratching at your neck like an animal and your friends are freaking out so much that you'd think you were turning into some kind of monster!

Steph is shocked - when did you get there?! Also, whats happening? She doesn't think and just immediately gets her phone out and films it, she knows she should call an ambulance but this could help in the future! Plus, surely someone else had called paramedics.

Cass' eyes are widened in shock, and she feels frozen in place. Her instincts want to kick in, having been skilled in quick response. But she doesn't do anything but stare. Should she do something? Yes. Will she continue to be a bystander? Also yes.

Eventually Duke has enough of people just standing around and watching you have a severe allergic reaction - or atleast, that's what he guesses it is. He steps up to you and gently grabs your arm and pulls you outside. Your friends stay behind to clean up any mess - even though they desperately wanted to follow you and Duke.

An ambulance arrives and Duke sits in the back with you. You're freaking out, he supposes it's due to the allergic reaction. He's only a third right.

In actuality you're freaking out due to the hospital bill - and by extension your parents - as well as the fact that DUKE THOMAS is in the back of an ambulance with you.

Why? You have no clue. Your spidey senses don't go off but you're still scared, you hate the whole Wayne clan with your whole heart. After the issue with Dick today the last thing you need is to be in the back of an ambulance with Duke.

Yet, as your vision fades the last thing you see is Duke's worried face.

Taglist (Still updating)

@rissareader @delias-stuff @hogwarts9 @marsmabe @randomlyappearingartist @coralaura @nervousalpacalady @citrushalo @chericia @soriansick

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sugurusfavemonkey · 2 days ago

Note

I have something silly. Nanami x demon!reader where Yuji, Nobara and Megumi summoning a demon arguing about it's validity when reader appears in the middle of the room when the ritual is finished. Reader just poofed out of Nanami's arms while reading before bed lol

Yessss! perfect crack + fluff prompt! I'm sorry for the delay and I really hope you enjoy it, lovely anon <3

warnings: not much with the exception of one suggestive line, still... MDNI; Canon divergence (Nanami is the trio's teacher); not proofreaded because I was lazy and just wanted to post something. wc: 2.2k a/n: this was supposed to be a short drabble, but I went a little bit overboard with it? 😬 ALSO, Here's a Nanami fanart to accompany the fic, because that's exactly what I imagine he looks like in bed, waiting for his wife.

"You're doing it wrong!"

"No, I'm not! I read this page over a hundred times! We did everything it says in here!"

"So you'll read a book on demon summoning multiple times, but five pages on the subject of our group project is too much for you?" Megumi interjected from his spot splayed on a couch that had seen batter days while his friends argued about the merit of an old book they had stumbled upon when they had gone scouring through a flea market earlier that day.

He was completely dismissed as both Yuji and Nobara seemed to be too engrossed into their own heated discussion.

"No, you're not! The circle you drew is crooked and I'm pretty sure you're pronouncing the Latin wrong." She pointed to the weird shaped drawing made on the ground where a rug had been haphazardly pushed to the side of the room.

"Weren't you the one who drew the symbol?" Megumi remarked again, hiding his amusement at their antics behind a well crafted poker face.

"Yeah! You even insisted on using the orange crayon to do it!" Yuji indicated the same poorly drawn symbol, "and why don't you do the incantation then?!" he challenged, chin pointing upwards and arms crossing in front of his chest.

Megumi scoffed at Itadori's evident selective hearing, but chose not to interfere any further. He'd rather let the two idiots sort that out by themselves.

"You know what? I will! Gimme the damn book!" Nobara almost ripped the tome from the pink-haired boy, her expression one of resoluteness.

"Hey! A 'please' would have been nice, Kugisaki."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Nobara dismissed Yuji with a wave of her hand, focus already turned to the yellowed pages of the leather bound book in her hands.

She cleared her throat theatrically before launching into a passionate monologue in also atrociously pronounced Latin, as instructed per said book.

The closure of her speech was followed by a hefty silence, the three of them holding their breaths in anticipation, even Megumi leaned forward in his seat.

...

"Huh. Guess this is just fake then." Nobara was the first to speak as her shoulders fell, the tension releasing from her previously tense muscles.

"I was so sure it was gonna work." Yuji's voice was small with defeat, a small pout forming on his lips, "Maybe demons aren't real?"

Megumi stood up and sighed, a bored look on his face. "I could have said that from the beginning."

"I always knew this wouldn't work." Nobara said matter-of-factly, throwing her short hair over her shoulder and swiftly closing the book.

"That wasn't what you said earlier." Megumi pointed out.

"You know what, Fushiguro?"

"I'm kinda hungry now." Yuji interrupted with a frown before Nobara could do anything harsh, which wasn't a far fetched possibility considering her aggravated expression and perch for violence.

"Oh! We should try that new soba place by the plaza! I heard they open late!" The seemed to work as she immediately perked up, beaming at Yuji.

"We could catch the late night showing of Human Earthworm 4 after that!" His reply was just as excited.

"Haven't you already seen that movie three times?"

"It's a good movie!"

"Right. Because it isn't just like all the previous ones."

"Hey! It's completely different! It shows a fresh view on the inner turmoil of the human experience from the perspective of-

"Guys!" Megumi interrupted their bickering, but he wasn't looking at either of them. Instead, he glared at the person standing right in the middle of the circle they had drawn.

"Hi." You waved timidly, unsure of how to get out of the circle uncomfortable situation you were put in.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

You stopped by the threshold to your room upon the scene displayed in front of you.

Nanami Kento laying in bed with his back against the bedframe looking absolutely breath taking in his matching pajama set with his hair down, face unusually soft and eyes focused on the book on his hands.

He didn't even look up, merely patting the empty side of the bed, beckoning you into joining him. You grinned contently before setting into motion. Who were you to deny this beautiful man of anything?

You climbed onto the bed on your knees, lifting his arm closest to you so you could lay on his chest. He chuckled at your silly endearing demeanor, glancing at you briefly and placing a soft peck to the top of your head once you were properly settled, arms thrown over his middle, one leg over his and ear poised right over his left pec, his heartbeat a comforting sound.

"How did I ever get so luck?" You mused quietly, fingernails drawing random shapes against his covered stomach.

Kento hummed soothingly a soft smile upon his lips, "if anything I'm the lucky one, love."

Nuh-uh. I hit the jackpot with you, Ken. You're not only the sweetest man on this earth, but you're also so, so pretty!"

"Oh, I'm pretty?"

"The prettiest! And it doesn't hurt that you're willing to bend me over the table and absolutely ravish me when I visit you in your office at work every once in a while."

Nanami nearly chocked at your bluntness before he started laughing, the sound one not many had ever had the pleasure of listening to. Possibly your favorite sound.

"Anytime, sweetheart." He acquiesced as soon as his laughter died down.

"Don't mind if I take you up to that."

"You're a menace."

"I-"

And then you were gone: *poof*

One second laying snugly against the chest of your husband and then, the next standing inside a demon summoning circle in a poorly illuminated room along with three of Kento's students.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

"Wha- what are you doing here?" Yuji questioned, brows furrowed in confusion.

"I was just... umm... oh! Kento asked me to check what you guys were up to."

"We weren't up to anything!" Nobara called, nervous over the thought of their strict sensei discovering they had been messing around with the occult.

"We were just, umm, studying?" Yuji threw in, also alarmed. He tried to subtly move closer, one feet sliding by the ground to reach the crayon dust so he could attempt and erase it without your notice.

Except you'd have noticed it either way, considering you were very much aware of the constriction the circle put on you.

"Wait. Don't erase it yet." Megumi blurted, also stepping closer but to stop Yuji with a hand to his shoulder instead. "Why aren't you moving? And where did you even come from?" He questioned you, protectively pulling Itadori away.

You winced, knowing there was no way you could come up with an excuse to the plight you found yourself in.

"I came from the door?" You tried anyway.

"We would have heard and seen it if that had been the case." Megumi was unyielding with his grilling, eyes seething, "tell us the truth."

"Megumi! What are you doing?! That's Nanamin's wife!" Yuji hissed at his friend, terrified that would get them in trouble with their stern teacher.

"Yes. And she's also appeared out of thin air into the room where you were performing a ritual and is coincidentally standing right inside the demon summoning circle Nobara drew."

"You can't possibly think-"

"You're a demon?!" Nobara finally clicked it all together, her voice shrill with shock.

"No, I'm-" You cut yourself off, glancing at each of the teenagers surrounding you before sighing in defeat. They were smart kids, there was no way you would be able to beguile them in this situation, "well, shit. Guess the cat's out of the bag, huh?"

"I know it would work!" Nobara whispered to herself, but it was still loud enough for everyone in the room to hear if Megumi's flat response was to be taken into account:

"You just said the exact opposite."

"I d-"

"Listen," you cut them off before they could start arguing further, you were literally in your pajamas, tired from the day and craving a night of sleep beside the love of your life. "I can explain. Just wipe off the circle so I can maybe move out of here?" You suggested, pleading eyes on Yuji (the most susceptible to your pleading).

"Yuji," Megumi sharply put a stop to his friend, "don't."

"But-"

"We don't know if it's safe." He continued, not once letting you out of his sight.

"Guys, I'm exactly the same person you've always known. Just... not human."

The three teenagers stared at you with different degrees of bewilderment. You threw your hands up in exasperation

"You know what? Just call Kento, please." was your suggestion. "If you don't trust me, at least you'll trust you sensei, won't you?"

"I... suppose." Megumi nodded once, still unsure, trading a glace with a shrugging Yuji.

"I'll call him." Nobara picked up her cellphone her glare settled on you. "Don't you dare trying anything!"

"I won't. I promise."

She huffed, narrowing her gaze and placing her phone at her ear. Kento picked up after two rings.

"Nanami sensei! Hi! So... we have your wife here" Nobara halted as if unsure on how to proceed. "inside a demon summoning circle," apparently, she decided to go for honesty.

There was a brief pause before you heard his voice from the other side of the line.

"Text me the address. I'm on my way" and then he hung up.

"He's-"

"On his way. Yes, I heard." You sighed, deciding to sit cross-legged on the floor to wait, in the limited space you had.

"You heard? I'm right beside Nobara and couldn't hear anything." Megumi seemed more curious than cautious then.

"Perks of being a demon, I guess. He's probably already inside his car by now. Send him the address please, Nobara."

She did as you told, finger flying over the screen.

"That's so cool! What else can you do?" Yuji sat down as well, leaning forward slightly, eyes wild in wonder and you couldn't help but thinking of how cute the boy was. It's no wonder Kento has a soft spot for the lovable teenager.

"Not much, really. I just have very sharp senses, maybe above average stamina too, but I've given up whatever supernatural skill I've had before the moment I decided to bind myself to Kento." You shrugged.

"That's still so cool!"

You smiled fondly at his excitement.

"Meh. That's lame. Did you seriously give up your powers for a man?"

And then you burst into laughter. Nobara truly didn't measure her words, but you enjoying her fiery, non-nonsense attitude nonetheless.

"Trust me. I would have said the same thing if I were in your place before I met my husband." You shrugged, still smiling.

Nobara regarded you for a second before deciding to sit down. If you were gonna be stuck there for while, she might as well.

"What else could you do?"

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

And that's how Nanami found you when Megumi opened the door for him.

"-and that's when I discovered demons do not mix well with chili." You finished, smiling proudly at yourself for being the cause behind their joy when Yuji fell back against the ground with a cackle and Nobara had to cover her mouth to muffle a snort.

"Ken!" You exclaimed once you saw him standing behind Megumi.

Kento had clearly rushed over, dressed in a crumpled beige long sleeved top, unironed slacks and a brown jacket thrown over the ensemble, hair still falling over his forehead.

He rushed forward ignoring his students until he was right before you, hand brushing away part of the circle on the ground before lifting you up and into his arms in a tight hug, "my love! I was worried."

"I know, I know, Ken. I'm so sorry." You murmured muffled against his shoulder and hugging him back.

"It's not your fault, love. Don't apologize." He carefully settled you back on your feet, hands carefully framing your face. Then his soft gaze steeled up suddenly and he turned aways from you and towards the three awaiting younglings.

"We're very sorry, Nanamin." Yuji started tentatively.

"You better be. Messing with things you do not understand, can you imagine what would have happened had you summoned other-"

"Ken. Ken, darling. It's fine. They won't do it again." You stopped your husband with both hands on his shoulders, dropping a kiss to his covered back, before joining his side and looking at the kids, "will you?"

"No."

"Never!"

"Nah."

"See?"

He huffed, but still agreed with a nod of his head, "well... it seems the matter is resolved then?"

"Yeah. I think we got the gist of the whole demoniac thing." Nobara spoke indifferently.

"Your wife is really cool, Nanamin!"

"I know, Itadori."

"Again, we apologize for the inconvenience, sensei."

"It's already been forgiven, Fushiguro. We'll take our leave now. Goodnight."

As always, Nanami kept everything succinct. To be honest, it was obvious to you that he just wanted to go back to bed for a good night of sleep after a tiring day of grading papers... preferentially cuddled with you.

"And kids,"

"Let's keep this between us, yes?"

...

"You guys think we can still catch the last showing of Human Earthworm?"

"Oh my god!"

"Shut up, Itadori."

#mavi writes #mavi answers #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #jjk fluff #jjk crack #jjk x reader #jjk x you #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami #nanami x you #jjk fanfic

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hrrtshape · 9 hours ago

Text

✶ REASONS TO BE EXCITED FOR YOUR FAME DESIRED REALITY — DIVA VERS.

⋆ ৎ PEOPLE WILL MAKE SUBLIMINALS OF YOU : not you listening to "be more like [YOUR NAME]" affirmations on loop while sipping a dior latte in your penthouse. YOU are the blueprint.

⋆ ৎ YOU WILL BE THE PINTEREST GIRL™ : every “dream life” board? covered in photos of you strolling through new york, holding a birkin bag, and giving main character energy.

⋆ ৎ YOUR FAN EDITS WILL END LIVES (IN A GOOD WAY) : every corner of tiktok and instagram will have dramatic black-and-white edits of you set to beyonce's diva (yes.).

⋆ ৎ FRONT ROW AT FASHION WEEK : no more dreaming about chanel or hermès—you’ll be the one closing the show. anna wintour? nervous.

⋆ ৎ THE WORLD WILL TRY TO DECODE YOUR AURA : reddit threads like “why is [YOUR NAME] so effortlessly magical??” or “what’s their secret??” (hint: it’s because you’re THAT GIRL.)

⋆ ৎ YOU’LL MAKE “PRIVACY” FASHIONABLE : everyone will want to know about your mysterious relationship (but all they’ll get are blurry paparazzi photos and an occasional “liked” post). private but not secret, baby.

⋆ ৎ LEGENDARY PHOTOSHOOTS : a spread in vogue where you’re posing in a STUNNING editorial or lounging on a vintage chaise? ICONIC. the internet might as well just shut down for weeks.

⋆ ৎ IMAGINE THE HATERS’ TEARS : their group chats will be LIT with jealousy because you’re glowing, thriving, and LIVING. (they’ll hate-listen to your album and still cry over track 8.)

⋆ ৎ GLOBAL ICON : millions of people will wear their eyeliner like you, talk like you, buy your perfume, and start journaling because you said it was healing. you’re the moment.

⋆ ৎ FAN THEORIES GALORE : every cryptic Instagram caption? a headline. every time you walk past someone? a tiktok trend. the power you hold is unmatched.

⋆ ৎ YOU’LL SET TRENDS BY BREATHING : wore a red sweater once? suddenly every high street shop is selling red sweaters.dDecided to go minimal makeup one day? natural beauty is IN.

⋆ ৎ YOUR LIFE WILL BE THE DAYDREAM : somewhere, a teenage girl (like you now!) will stare out her window, imagining being as incredible as you are. you’re someone’s entire pinterest board, playlist, AND raison d’être.

⋆ ৎ THE UNDENIABLE FACT THAT YOU DESERVE IT ALL : fame, love, beauty, artistry—it’s not just a dream, it’s your RIGHT. you’re the main character of the universe. because...why not?

⋆ ৎ YOU’LL TURN FAN CULTURE INTO A RELIGION : forget fans—they’ll be worshippers. people will LITERALLY wake up at 3 a.m. to join twitter spaces dissecting the colour of your nail polish at cannes. the church of [YOUR NAME]™ is in session.

⋆ ৎ EVERY STREET YOU WALK DOWN IS A RED CARPET : paparazzi? stans? CEOs crying because you’re glowing too hard? you’ll need sunglasses just to shield the world from your aura.

⋆ ৎ THE WORLD WILL STOP FOR YOUR ALBUM DROPS : beyoncé said, “release at midnight.” you’ll say, “i’ll drop it when I’m in the mood.” AND PEOPLE WILL STILL STAY AWAKE FOR IT. that level of influence.

⋆ ৎ YOU’LL BE A BILLBOARD...IN EVERY COUNTRY : tokyo? london? paris? every city will have your face smouldering down from the tallest building.

⋆ ৎ FAN EDITS THAT SHAKE THE INTERNET : "i just saw a fan edit of [YOUR NAME] on tiktok and now i can’t breathe.” you’ll be the reason people cry in their car at 2 a.m.

⋆ ৎ EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH TURNS ICONIC : sat on a random park bench? a historic landmark the next day. ate a croissant at a café? the croissant girl aesthetic trending on twitter. check it out!!!!!!!

⋆ ৎ PEOPLE WILL LITERALLY BEG FOR YOUR ATTENTION : brands will send you PR boxes stuffed with diamonds. the president (well, maybe not) will DM you asking to collab. and the answer might just be a casual, “lol, maybe.”

⋆ ৎ YOU’LL RUIN PEOPLE IN THE BEST WAY : imagine someone seeing you for the first time and needing three therapy sessions to recover from your beauty. you’re THAT stunning.

⋆ ৎ AWARD SHOWS WILL BECOME YOUR PLAYGROUND : walk in late, steal the spotlight, leave early. everyone else? irrelevant. who’s the main event? YOU.

⋆ ৎ EVERY INTERVIEWER WILL BE IN SHAMBLES : you know that one video of an interviewing a girl and she's just smiling and he's STUTTERING??? that's you.

⋆ ৎ THE MUSIC INDUSTRY’S MUSE : let’s get this straight: you’ll date the hottest musicians for, like, a WEEK (tops) and then casually ghost them. next thing you know, they’re dropping an entire heartbreak album dedicated to YOU. think rumours, but every song screams, “i will never recover from [YOUR NAME].”

⋆ ৎ CINEMA WILL BOW TO YOU : that avant-garde film director? the one who never writes romance? oh, suddenly he’s inspired, and his next arthouse masterpiece is basically a love letter to your existence. critics call it life-changing.

⋆ ৎ YOUR EXES WILL COMPETE FOR YOUR ATTENTION : not your billionaire ex-boyfriend AND your rockstar ex-girlfriend both showing up to your movie premiere, trying to outdo each other with their outfits and tragic longing stares. (you let them sweat.)

⋆ ৎ YOU’LL BE AN “UNOBTAINABLE STANDARD" : tiktokers everywhere will cry, “how can I be as mysterious and effortlessly iconic as [YOUR NAME]?!” spoiler: they can’t. no one can.

⋆ ৎ YOU’LL MAKE CELEBRITY GOSSIP FUN AGAIN :

⋆ “[YOUR NAME] SEEN LEAVING SECRET LONDON SPEAKEASY WITH OSCAR-WINNING ACTOR.” ⋆ “WHO IS THE MYSTERY DESIGNER BEHIND [YOUR NAME]’S GALA LOOK?” ⋆ “FANS SPOT [YOUR NAME] ON A LUXURY YACHT WITH THE PRESIDENT'S SON!”

⋆ ৎ BRANDS WILL BEG FOR YOU : “face of chanel,” “hermès ambassador,” “star of the gucci campaign”—no, no, no, no, you’re ALL of it. you don’t just set trends; you ARE the trend.

⋆ ৎ YOU’LL INVENT NEW STANDARDS OF ICONICNESS : dating you will become its own genre of fame. the world will invent new terms like “[YOUR NAME]-core” or “[YOUR NAME] Effect” to describe anyone trying to emulate your energy.

⋆ ৎ STAN TWITTER DARLING : imagine how easy it would be stan you. how eaaaasy it would be to defend you when an incel's like "oh, well, bla bla bla bla" and your fans would be like "[YOUR NAME] outsold" "[YOUR NAME] oscar/grammy winner,"

⋆ ৎ IMAGINE YOUR POWER MOVES : casually leaving a gala after being the star of the night, just because you felt like getting midnight fries. dropping a surprise single with no promo, and it STILL debuts at #1. turning down roles because “they’re not deep enough.”

⋆ ৎ PEOPLE WILL LIE ABOUT MEETING YOU : “oh yeah, i had brunch with [YOUR NAME] once.” LIES. ellen, YOU LIAR.

⋆ ৎ THE WORLD WILL WORSHIP YOUR MYSTERY : one candid photo of you walking your dog will launch conspiracy theories. (is the dog symbolic? is it her co-star’s? is the LEASH CUSTOM HERMÈS???)

⋆ ৎ YOU’LL BE THE FINAL BOSS OF FAME : the moment when all these legendary a-listers are constantly spotted at your concerts, crying while singing along to your lyrics? girl, you win.

you’re not just shifting realities. you’re shifting CULTURE.

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sugurugetoshairbrush · 1 day ago

Text

"hi, I'm gojo, your favorite sorcerer, and I think shoko is gonna be the drunkest tonight."

if shoko ieiri has one undeniable talent, it's bringing people together—though her plans often border on catastrophic. so when yaga steps out of class to take a call, you aren't surprised to see a sly grin spread menacingly across her face. turning in her seat, she wastes no time laying out this week's plan—meticulously crafted, as always.

she breaks it down into a comprehensive, four-step process:

convince her older cousin to buy her alcohol tomorrow during her family’s visit

sneak said alcohol into the school and stash it under her bed

host a party in her dorm friday night while yaga is away overnight

blackout.

you and gojo exchange amused glances, already on board. shoko's plans are always a healthy mix of brilliance and disaster. geto, predictably, looks hesitant.

"is this really a good idea?" he asks, brow furrowing. "what if something goes wrong? most of the tokyo staff will be gone with yaga. no one will be here to help."

shoko leans back smugly, her arms crossed. "and that's why I'm a seasoned expert in reversed curse techniques. relax, geto. that's literally my whole thing."

geto rolls his eyes but doesn't argue further.

"don't fret, suguboo!" gojo interjects, puffing out his chest dramatically. "they call me the strongest for a reason. I'll take care of you when you inevitably get wasted." he flutters his snowy-white eyelashes for emphasis.

geto deadpans. "me?"

"you heard me. waaastee—" gojo drags out the word, but the sound of yaga’s approaching footsteps cuts him off.

you react instinctively, smacking the back of his head. "quiet, idiot."

by friday, the plan had unfolded without a hitch. well, almost—gojo got smacked up several more times for being oblivious, and shoko nearly had a heart attack when one of the shopping bags threatened to burst under the weight of the bottles on school grounds. still, by the time you helped her stash the loot, everything was ready for what she dubbed "operation blackout."

at 9:44 pm, shoko's message pops up in the group chat:

Ieiri Shoko | Today at 9:44 PM evrybdy head over!! 🥂

when you open the door to her dorm, you’re immediately struck by the startling transformation. the normally cluttered space was spotless, the floor gleaming as if polished. a low table sits in the center of the room, draped in a burgundy tablecloth and surrounded by eight matching cushions. twinkling lights crisscross the ceiling, and the scent of something delicious wafts from the kitchenette, where shoko is bent over the stove.

utahime stands at the counter, pouring drinks from a tall pitcher into glasses. an empty sake bottle sits beside her.

"wow, you aren't playing around, sho," you say, stepping closer.

shoko spins around, startled. "shit, don't sneak up on me like that! almost dropped a bowl."

you smirk, peeking at the tray she's prepared. perfectly arranged katsudon bowls—crispy fried pork over rice, garnished with scallions.

"well, don't just stand there," shoko says, snapping you out of your awe. "make yourself useful. operation blackout starts with a heavy meal and a sake cocktail to warm us up."

"yes, ma'am." you salute before obediently grabbing the tray carefully from her outstretched hands to place at the table.

the gang filters in one by one, each person reacting with impressed remarks at the eloquent setup.

"I thought this was going to be a trashy frat-party experience," mei mei said, sliding into the last open seat. "this actually warrants my attendance."

utahime scoffs, "backhanded compliments are your specialty, huh?"

"I mean," gojo chimes in, grinning, "considering shoko's goal of total blackout, I figured we'd be doing keg stands before forcing suguru to let us ride rainbow dragon to mcdonald's at three am."

"as if," geto mutters.

nanami raises an eyebrow. "keg stands, gojo really? this isn't some coming-of-age teen drama, you watch way too much tv."

gojo glares, a flush creeping up his cheeks. "you never know."

haibara jumps in, grinning brightly. "kento, hush! anyway, great job tonight, shoko! this is amazing."

"I second that," you say, pulling out your phone. "and to commemorate the night, let's make a bet. let's each record a video saying who we think will get the drunkest tonight. we'll review the footage later to see who was right. deal?"

with this group's competitive streak, everyone immediately agrees.

you prop your phone against the bathroom sink, angling it perfectly. with a satisfied nod, you return to the others in the dorm. "alright, who wants to start?"

"ME! ME! ME! ME!," gojo's hand shoots up, waving frantically.

you catch nanami's exaggerated eye roll and laugh, "alright, satoru, the floor is yours."

00:03 ==⬤---------------------- 04:01 ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻ gojo: "...and we're live! hi, I'm gojo, your favorite sorcerer, and I think shoko is gonna be the drunkest tonight. I mean, c'mon—she's literally an aspiring alcoholic!"

geto: "hello, viewers. geto suguru here. my prediction? gojo will be the drunkest. sure, he's got impressive stamina in combat, but let's be real—that doesn't translate to drinking."

you: "hey, y'all! it's me. so, I know gojo's gonna be the drunkest tonight. he's giving strong lightweight energy."

nanami: "to whom it may concern, my name is nanami kento, and I believe yu haibara will be the drunkest tonight. right now, I confidently estimate my prediction to be of 70% certainty."

haibara: "haibara here! after careful consideration, I think our dear host, shoko ieiri, will be the drunkest tonight. she literally said she wants to black out!"

shoko: "the moment you've all been waiting for—ieiri shoko: sorcerer, host, chef, and event planner extraordinaire. holding for applause... okay, I'm predicting utahime or gojo will be the drunkest tonight. they're both way too hot-headed and competitive."

utahime: "h-hi! I'm iori utahime, and I think gojo's gonna be the drunkest tonight. he's always bragging about being the strongest, but that can only get him so far. so I guarantee he'll be the weakest tonight."

mei mei: "they saved the best for last. I'm mei mei, and I think sweet utahime is going to be the drunkest tonight. low tolerance vibes. and with that, let's reconvene later for updates..." 04:01 =================⬤ 04:01 ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻

when mei mei returns your phone, shoko has already begun her toast to the evening. "here's to a messy, sloppy, drunken night," she says, raising her glass. "may I be passed out on the grass by four am!"

utahime doubles over laughing as everyone clinks glasses. the bitter, tangy scent of sake fills the air as the group shouts, "cheers!"

the conversation drifts into speculative territory as gojo leads a heated discussion about principal yaga's alleged secret love child. evidence cited includes muffled crying or squealing sounds overheard from his office and trashed crib packaging. the theory dies down as the meal takes center stage. the katsudon, perfectly seasoned and artfully plated, is a hit—a warm, savory comfort that pairs too well with the strong drinks.

plates empty and glasses drained, you observe the scene. gojo, is even chattier than usual, his words tumbling over each other at lightning speed. haibara's cheeks glow tomato red, and utahime twirls a braid around her finger, sneaking glances at shoko. very, very interesting.

meanwhile, shoko, geto, mei mei, and nanami seem relatively unaffected—or are just better at hiding it. you decide it's time to turn up the chaos.

"guys!" you tap your glass with a pair of chopsticks, drawing their attention. "we still have four bottles of tequila to get through. who's up for a drinking game of truth or dare?"

the suggestion is met with enthusiastic cheers from shoko, gojo, mei mei, and utahime. haibara looks excited but hesitant, while geto and nanami exchange weary glances, clearly bracing for disaster.

"as host," shoko declares, waving her chopsticks like a wand, "I command full participation. let me pour some shots. who needs a mixed drink?"

shoko and utahime get to work. plates are cleared and replaced with a neat line of shots. utahime's heavy-handed pours prompt a dramatic gasp from mei mei.

"damn, 'hime," mei mei says, inspecting the shots. "you trying to kill us?"

shoko returns with two mixed drinks, sliding them toward haibara and nanami. "classiest of the group," you mutter with a grin.

you smooth your hands over your hair, leaning forward to begin the game. "alright, let's start this right. host sho—truth or dare?"

"dare, duh," shoko replies instantly.

"hmmm..." you glance at gojo. "what did you bring as a chaser?"

with a flourish, gojo pulls a bottle from beneath the table. "strawberry ramune, my favorite~ why?"

"perfect. shoko, I dare you to drink gojo's chaser."

shoko grabs the bottle without hesitation, but just as she tilts it, you interrupt.

"oh, by the way—gojo adds five packets of sugar to sweeten his ramune."

the table erupts in laughter. nanami smirks, and shoko sputters as she swallows the disgustingly sweet concoction.

"blegh!" shoko slams the bottle down, grimacing. "gojo, who does this shit?!"

reaching for a shot, she drowns it in one go—and then grabs another.

"two shots to chase ramune?" haibara asks, incredulous as he shrugs off his sweater. "that bad?"

"it was that bad," shoko confirms, her voice muffled as she pours herself another drink.

"let's..." shoko wipes her tongue with a napkin, grimacing. "let's just move on. I'm asking... geto. truth or dare?"

"after witnessing... whatever that was," geto gestures vaguely toward shoko's earlier tequila ordeal, "I'm gonna play it safe and go with truth."

shoko grins mischievously, tilting her head as she looks geto up and down. "okayyy," she drawls, clearly deep in thought. "hmm... got it! you're the only guy here with ear piercings—such a bad boy," she teases, earning a visible cringe from geto. "so my question is: do you have any other piercings we don't know about?"

you press your lips together to stifle a laugh. as close as you are to geto, you already know the answer. he's going to drink.

sure enough, geto opens his mouth to respond but then, without a word, picks up a shot and downs it in one smooth motion.

"WHAT?!" shoko shrieks, half outraged, half delighted.

"naughty," mei mei murmurs, leaning her chin into her palm, her smirk growing wider.

"sugu's such a tease. its just a—" gojo starts, but you slam your hand over his mouth before he can spill the details.

"don't you dare," you hiss.

gojo bites your palm in retaliation, but you refuse to let go, glaring at him.

geto clears his throat, grimacing slightly at the tequila's burn. "and there's my cue to move on," he says, brushing past the topic. "since satoru seems eager to air out my business—truth or dare?"

you cautiously release your hand from gojo's mouth, glancing at the raw bite marks on your palm. gojo scratches his chin dramatically, as if pondering some great mystery, then grins, his azure eyes lighting up.

"dare! cuz I'm not a pussy".

geto laughs, unbothered by the jab. "alright, satoru. this one's easy—I dare you to eat all the scallions you picked off your food."

the table collectively turns to look at gojo's napkin, overflowing with at least twenty pieces of scallion he meticulously removed.

"suguruuuu," gojo whines, slumping in defeat.

geto merely slides him a shot, patting his fluffy white hair. gojo glares at the drink, nose wrinkling as he takes a tentative sip. he shudders visibly, sticking out his tongue. "so gross."

as he sets the glass down, his eyes narrow. he scans the group, zeroing in on utahime, who's laughing a little too hard at this expense.

"utahime," he announces, and her grin instantly vanishes. "yeah, not so funny now, huh? truth or dare?"

she groans. "ugh, truth"

gojo clasps his hands together like an evil mastermind, his grin nothing short of diabolic. "who here, out of all of us, would you say is the weakest link in jujutsu society?"

"uncalled for," you mutter, yanking on his ear like a scolding parent.

"stop picking on her, satoru." shoko adds, rolling her eyes.

but utahime surprises everyone by taking it in stride. she lifts a shot, downs it without hesitation, and wipes her chin with a satisfied smirk. "moving on. your turn," she says, turning to you with a pointed look. "truth or dare?"

"dare," you reply confidently. "give me a juicy one."

utahime exchanges a mischevious look with mei mei before whispering something in her ear.

"got it," mei mei says, sitting upright. "give us your phone. utahime and I get to send one text to anyone we want—and you can't take it back until the end of the night."

you take a steadying breath, weighing your options. it's only utahime and mei mei, you reason. how bad could it be? if it were gojo, the tequila would already be halfway to your lips. finally, you unlock your phone and slide it across the table.

"go ahead. do your worst."

mei mei snatches it up gleefully, her fingers flying across the screen. you pointedly look away, unwilling to torture yourself by imagining what chaos they're unleashing.

"alright," you announce. "let's keep the game rolling. haibara—truth or dare?"

haibara flushes an even deeper shade of red than before, the color creeping onto his neck. "I'm a little nervous," he admits shyly. "truth."

"don't be nervous," you say with mock sincerity. "we're your closest friends! we'd never judge or be offended by anything you say or do. that said... who here is your least favorite person?"

haibara gasps, clutching his chest. "noooo! I can't answer that—it's too mean! I love and respect you all equally!"

nanami, ever the calm voice of reason, places a gentle hand on haibara's and nudges it toward his drink. "take two sips, yu," he says simply.

you chuckle as geto flicks your forehead. "harsh, but fair."

haibara obeys, taking two large gulps. he sets his glass down, visibly tipsy now, and beaming at nanami.

"okay, nanamiiin~" haibara slurs slightly, drawing out the nickname, "truth or dare?"

nanami raises a brow but humors him with a small smile. "dare."

"alrighty," haibara begins, leaning in conspiratorially. "for some backstory—I heard you singing in the shower a couple weeks ago when you thought no one was around."

the table collectively perks up.

"so," haibara continues, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper that's still loud enough for everyone to hear, "I dare you to sing for us. don't be shy, ken. you have a beautiful voice."

the group falls into stunned silence. nanami's ears turn bright red as the color spreads across his cheeks. it's possibly the first time you've ever seen him blush.

after a pause, he clears his throat and picks up his glass. "you got me there, yu," he says smoothly, before chugging the rest of his drink in one go.

haibara's face falls, his disappointment palpable. "aww, but I really wanted to hear it!"

nanami leans over, resting an arm on haibara's shoulder. you catch a faint, "later," murmured under his breath.

and with that, he nods toward mei mei, signaling the game to continue.

"alright, mei mei, truth or dare?" nanami asks, his tone measured, as always.

"dare, of course," mei mei replies smoothly, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder.

nanami straightens his collar, clearly crafting something calculated. "I dare you to do your best impression of someone at this table. if we don't guess it right, you drink. no talking allowed."

"regulated and thorough," mei mei says with a smirk. "I would expect nothing less from you, nanami. very well, I'll begin."

she stands, her violet off-the-shoulder sweater swaying with her movement. turning her back to the group, she pauses for dramatic effect. then, with a sharp turn of her head, she flutters her eyelashes, blows an exaggerated kiss, sticks her tongue out, and pretends to push up invisible glasses.

haibara is the first to pipe up, "I got it! 's gojo-senpai, that's really g'd, mei mei!"

"how the actual fuck is that me?!" gojo exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

mei mei curtsies, her smirk widening. "correct, haibara. it was an easy choice—gojo's the most dramatic one here."

the group hums in agreement. shoko, sipping from her drink, adds dryly, "since we guessed it right away, shouldn't gojo drink? he's technically the loser."

"you can't just make up rules, sho!" gojo protests, looking around for support. his gaze lands on geto, who shrugs and slides him a shot.

"sounds fair to me, satoru. unless... you can't handle it?" geto teases, his grin lazy but pointed.

with a theatrical sigh, gojo downs the shot, grimacing as he does. nanami ever the thoughtful one, disappears into the kitchen, returning with a cocktail for himself and glasses of water for both gojo and haibara. gojo accepts his water with a reluctant nod, taking slow sips while you rub soothing circles on his back.

"your kindness is admirable," mei mei drawls, watching you with amused eyes. "but since you're being so tenderhearted, I'll send some chaos your way. truth or dare?"

you immediately withdraw your hand, straightening in your seat. "truth."

mei mei leans forward, violet eyes glinting mischievously. "I’m feeling messy, so… who would you fuck, marry, and kill among your fellow third-years? choose wisely."

the table erupts into a mix of gasps and laughter. haibara nearly chokes on his drink, and nanami quietly hands him his water. all eyes turn to you, expectant.

you lean back, arms crossed. "alright, I'll answer with my whole chest. first, marry shoko—duh. she’s special-grade wife material. she cooks, cleans, and nurses you back to health."

utahime's grin falters slightly, but you press on. "fuck suguru—" you gesture toward him, "I mean, look at him. plus, we all know he swallows."

the table howls with laughter as shoko nearly falls out of her seat. geto arches an eyebrow at you, looking both flattered and mildly concerned.

"and I guess that leaves gojo, so... kill him." you shrug. "though honestly, I don't even know how I'd manage that."

gojo clutches his chest, aghast. "why me?!" you just admitted you can't even kill me yourself! and what, am I unattractive to you?!"

you roll your eyes. "relax, bookie. you're fine as hell, but you're more 'all-up-in-your-face' fine. suguru's more... nonchalant fine."

the group hums in agreement, fueling gojo's indignation. "what does that even mean?!" he whines, flailing.

geto places a calming hand on his arm, his voice even. "relax, satoru. I have my own concerns—" his gaze flickers to you. "—about the swallowing comment."

feigning nonchalance, you glance at your wrist as if checking an invisible watch. "oh would you look at the time? moving on. shoko, truth or dare?"

"dare," shoko says immediately, lifting the tequila bottles. "and as host, I declare a new rule: from now on everyone drinks every turn, no exceptions."

a collective groan rises from the trio of haibara, gojo, and utahime, all clearly tipsy. you, mei mei, geto, and nanami grunt or nod in agreement.

"lovin’ that energy sho, so to up the ante," you say, digging into your pocket, "I dare you to smoke this." you toss a poorly rolled, but fat blunt onto the table. "and take a shot after. getting crossed should help you reach tonight's goal."

shoko's eyes light up as she snatches it greedily. "the girls are really coming through tonight! you're a godsend."

gojo scoffs. "godsend? how? she brought literal drugs to your party! isn't it called the devil's lettuce?"

shoko snorts, rummaging for a lighter. "this, from the guy who probably can't even stand up straight."

"I just don't feel like standing right now," gojo mumbles, pouting.

shoko gives him a withering look. "fine. truth or dare, satoru?"

"well, now I know what the dare is, so... truth."

"alright. who at this table have you had a sex dream about?"

the table falls into stunned silence. nanami chokes on his drink, and gojo freezes, eyes wide as they dart around the group. his gaze lingers a bit too long on you and geto before he quickly looks down, blushing furiously.

shoko smirks, satisfied. "definitely tabling that reaction to circle back to later."

gojo groans, face hidden behind his hands. "'m drinking. everyone drink."

you clink your glass with geto's, smirking. he wasn't fooling anyone.

shoko makes her way to the sliding backdoor, tossing a casual remark over her shoulder. “I'll be back in a flash—just gonna step outside to finish my dare. keep it going, and don't forget my shot when I get back." she winks before stepping out and taking a seat on the back steps.

inside, gojo hiccups, his high-pitched squeak drawing laughter around the table. his cheeks flush a shade brighter. you smirk, knowing your prediction about his tolerance was proving accurate.

clearing his throat, he wobbles a little before announcing, "who'd I wanna choose next... hmm... nanamin~! my dearesst kouhai, trussted friend, and bl—"

"I'm afraid to let you finish that sentence," nanami cuts him off dryly, already raising his glass. "so, I'll just drink. everybody?"

the table burst into laughter, raising their glasses to join him. haibara clunks his cup down a little too hard before slumping over, his head landing heavily on nanami's shoulder, some tequila dribbling from his lips onto nanami's sleeve.

nanami sighs, staring down at the mess before resigning himself. "haibara, maybe stick to mini-sips for your next few drinks. you can't even hold yourself up anymore."

haibara hums in drowsy agreement, leaning further into nanami, who chuckles heartily—a rare sound that surprises everyone. turning to geto, nanami raises a brow. "geto-senpai, truth or dare?"

geto, looking unbothered as usual, undoes his bun, letting his inky-black hair spill over his shoulders. he tucks a loose strand behind his gauged ear with a casual flick. "dare, nanamin~."

nanami considers this, his words tumbling over each other as the alcohol dulls his normally precise tone. "how about I... you... okay, I dare you to ride your manta ray curse around the school right now."

geto blinks, waiting for a punchline that never comes. "wait, you're serious? now? like, right now?"

"I don't know how I could be any clearer."

"dick," gojo mutters.

geto shakes his head, airing out his shirt. "as much as I would—and have, by the way—I think that might qualify as drunk driving. or, you know, drunk flying."

"or drunk swimming," you chime in.

"semantics." geto waves it off. "fine, everybody drink."

at this point, the alcohol is catching up with you. tilting your head back to take your shot makes the room swim a little. you fan yourself, suddenly flushed. gojo notices, leaning close to blow cool air onto your face like a fan.

you giggle, slurring, "satoru smells like str'berriesss~."

geto shakes his head at the chaos and turns his attention to utahime, whose head was face down on the table. "utahime, get up. truth or dare?"

utahime rolls her head sluggishly to the side, revealing a face flushed deep red. "fucking dare."

"language," geto teased with a mock pout. "there's no need to cuss. let's bring out that sweet side of yours. I dare you to kiss shoko when she comes back."

utahime shoots up, wide-eyed. "what?! k-kiss—shoko?!"

"that is what I said," geto replies, calm as ever.

mei mei nudges utahime, smirking. "do it, and I'll finish that paperwork for your mission on monday."

after a moment of hesitation, utahime grabs her shot, muttering, "fine. fuck it," before tossing it back. she slumps over dramatically.

the backdoor slides open just then, shoko reappearing with a dreamy sway. her eyes bloodshot and reeking of weed, she gives a languid nod when you ask, "damn, sho. you killed it, huh?"

she slumps into her chair, blinking slowly. "soooo, where are we?"

utahime stiffens but manages to squeak out, "my dare is... to kiss you."

"oh." shoko's lips curl into a lazy smile. "'kay. go ahead." she tilts her face. presenting her cheek.

utahime leans in, delivering the quickest peck possible.

"boo," geto jeers.

"yeah! boo!!!" gojo joins, cut off by another hiccup.

"tomato, tomato, tomato," you tease.

shoko blinks in confusion, looking one breath away from falling asleep. haibara's muffled voice comes from nanami's shoulder, "s'not the kiss we's looking f'r. try again—on th' lips." he clumsily raises his hands in a heart shape.

shoko turns back to utahime with a sleepy "'kay," puckering her lips and closing her eyes.

utahime hesitates, side-eyeing the group before her expression softens. smitten, she closes her eyes and leans in. their lips meet in a soft peck, but shoko isn't done. she grabs utahime's jaw, pulling her into a loud, smacking kiss.

"arrgh."

everyone turns to gojo, who is clutching his stomach. he gags loudly.

"what the fu—gojo, are you okay?!" geto asks, concerned.

"arrgh, aargh—"

"are you seriously gagging?" you ask, wide-eyed.

he sputters, cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk before bolting for the bathroom. the door slams shut behind him, and moments later, the unmistakable sound of vomiting echoes.

the table sits frozen. shoko and utahime remains in their pose, hands still cradling each other's faces. the faint sound of retching fills the silence.

geto breaks the tension with a deadpan, "so, gojo's homophobic."

from the bathroom comes a strained yell, "'M NOT HOMOPHOBIC! it was just bad timing! I've never drunk befor—"

he gags again.

nanami buries his face in his hands. "jesus."

geto stands. "I've got him." he slips into the bathroom after gojo.

you push yourself up, retrieving water and chips from the kitchen. "I'll give him a hand," you say, heading for the bathroom. "sounds like he needs it."

the fluorescent bathroom light buzzes faintly, its harsh glow making your head pound as you step inside. gojo is bent over the toilet, panting heavily, his white hair sticking out in a chaotic mess. geto is knelt beside him, one hand rubbing circles into his back, murmuring softly, "you're okay, satoru. just breathe."

you ease down onto the cold tile floor beside them, your hand brushing gojo's sweaty bangs off his forehead. "you'll feel better soon," you say gently.

after another minute, gojo finally stops heaving. he reaches up with a trembling hand to flush the toilet, the sound of rushing water echoing in the small space.

uncapping a water bottle, you tilt it to his lips, letting him take a few cautious gulps. then you nudge geto over slightly and lean your back against the base of the toilet. gojo groans before collapsing across your laps, his head resting on geto's thigh and his chest presses into yours.

"the room is spinning, guys," gojo mumbles, voice hoarse. "make it stop".

geto smooths his palm over gojo's cheek, his voice low and soothing. "I know, satoru. just close your eyes and focus on your breathing."

reaching down, you find gojo's hand and lace your fingers with his, pulling it to his chest. you trace small circles over his knuckles. "you're okay, satoru," you murmur. "this happens to everyone."

gradually, his body softens in your hold. his breathing evens out as his eyelids flutter shut. geto hums a low, calming tune, and you rest your head against his shoulder.

"I think he's out 'ru," you whisper.

geto's arm slips around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. "always looking after you two," he says quietly. "you owe me."

you snort, muffled against his chest. "'m comple'ly fine though!" but your own head was spinning, and the warmth of geto's hand tracing your arm lulls you toward sleep.

outside the bathroom, nanami notices haibara ceasing all movement, slumping lifelessly against his shoulder. concerned, he asks shoko for permission to use her room. once inside, he gently lays haibara on the bed, propping him up with pillows. fetching a glass of water and some bread from the kitchen, nanami coaxes small bites and sips out of him.

by the time haibara's color returns and his glassy eyes gain some clarity, nanami feels his own nerves ease. haibara grabs his wrist, tugging him onto the bed. reluctantly, nanami allows it, settling beside him. haibara's breath evens out as he drifts off, his forehead presses into nanami's side. nanami sighs, resigning himself to the makeshift role of caretaker once again.

shoko and utahime decide the night isn't over and stumble toward shoko's small couch with utahime's speaker in hand. shoko fiddles with her ipod shuffle browsing through her music gallery. she settles on her indie playlist, and excitedly stands on the couch pulling utahime clumsily up with her. what starts as vibing out quickly ends with them passed out together, limbs tangled and mouths agape, soft snores punctuating the quiet.

as the only one remaining at the table, mei mei is busy with her usual mischief. having memorized your phone's passcode earlier, she unlocks it again and frowns at the failed transaction she made from your dare earlier. not one to be deterred, she fiddles with the wi-fi and tries resending the payment. her face lights up moments later when a notification buzzes on the screen.

Mei Mei | Today at 2:14 AM this is an automated message. your apple cash amount of $[100.00] was processed successfully.

she smirks, scrolling through her personal wishlist for potential splurges. after adding a few items to her cart, she looks around the room, noting. the rhythmic snores of her friends. satisfied as the night's clear victor, she turns to your phone's camera and swipes to video, ready to document her triumph.

00:06 ==⬤---------------------- 01:22 ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻ mei mei (whispering): "once again, we have saved the best for last. everybody else just can't hang—it's quite unfortunate. as the rightful victor, I conclude that gojo satoru was the drunkest tonight, given his stint bent over the toilet. let's take a look, shall we?" [the camera pans to the bathroom. gojo is sprawled across the laps of geto and you, his face pressed against geto's thigh. geto's head rests against yours as all three of you snooze peacefully.] mei mei (whispering): "look at these cuties, snuggled up on the bathroom floor. gojo looks so peaceful, you would never know he was just expelling his entire stomach's contents barely an hour ago."

[the camera cuts to the couch, where shoko and utahime are tangled together in a chaotic sprawl, drooling and snoring loudly.] mei mei (whispering): "and here are the lovebirds! snorting and drooling all over each other. utahime is definitely going to remember this tomorrow. shoko? I sure hope so, because I can't go back to those constant longing stares, ugh!"

[the shot moves to shoko's room, focusing on haibara clinging to nanami like a lifeline.] mei mei (whispering): "and here's haibara, glued to his big, strong man who saved him from being gojo 2.0. nanami, ever the hero, still played babysitter. truly wholesome content."

[the video cuts back to mei mei, her face smug.] mei mei: "and that's a wrap! should I keep sending myself money off everyone's phones? hmm... haven’t I earned it? anyway, bye now!" 01:22 =================⬤ 01:22 ⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻

#shoko gets everbody drunk #drinking games #hidden inventory arc #canon divergent au #self indulgent #gojo x reader x geto #satosugu x reader #satosugu #getou suguru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x black reader #shoko ieiri #shoko x utahime #nanami x haibara #implied

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ariathelamia · 23 hours ago

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Hellhound HRT Month 6 (4 month wolf 2 month Hellhound)

Heya! It’s me again… starting to do some note taking which… i got kinda chewed out on not doing any of that when i woke up in the hospital-.. wait fuck getting ahead of myself. Let’s start from after I parted with Mars.

So, yeah I got home that day pretty ecstatic to say the least, I mean who can say that they get their meds from an eldritch ritual!... well Mars probably can but that's besides the point let me have this!

The tablets taste awful, which is to say a lot since my taste hasn’t been the same since about month… 3 or 4? Something something Carnivores taste a lot less than herbivores or omnivores. Well anyway, meat tasted better than before, that’s for sure, but yeah everything else always tasted kinda… bland… so i started to enjoy textures more than taste… where was I?.. Oh yeah, taste of the meds… HORRIBLE.. like someone mixed the consistency of chalk with the aftertaste of puking your guts out… urgh… made a habit of putting them in a little bit of food and then down them that way… that way i at least only taste the food at first and only later maybe a bit of the meds..

Sooo anyway, changes… they happen fast on this stuff!! Maybe that's because there is a lot of change to come?... Or the cheap shot Erian gives us some diluted shit because he wants us on the meds for longer for a better and long lasting payroll… anyway!

The most notable change is my fur… it changed COMPLETELY in color! It used to be orange with a few gray streaks here and there and now it’s almost entirely black with some gray highlights like the fur on my chest or around my wrists and.. other joints. pretty neat! Could swear some of these kinda look like eyes.. especially those on my elbow and knees.. wonder if it’s like a mark from who i got those meds? Well they look cool so i won’t complain!

But yeah pretty much my entire body is covered in fur now, with the fur in my face being a lot shorter and more dense… It feels REALLY fluffy though… like i swear to god i brush through it, and if i don’t press down it almost feels like brushing throw air… that kinda soft.

When it comes to other changes in my body… my legs hurt somewhat now… i guess that means they are starting to change form now too.. becoming.. digigrate.. or something like that? Wolf like!

My Nails have now pretty much fused with my fingers. They actually look like really sharp claws now. Can’t pull them in yet so… gotta be double careful when scratching myself… already nicked myself pretty bad when I scratched an itch on my shoulder.

The tail has been as fluffy as ever~ I love this thing!!! Helped me a lot with my balance when doing parkour too! it’s just great~

Oh yeah! I am slowly growing a snout! hurts like a motherf-.... but damn finally!

Uhm… other than that… i noticed some tightness in my chest about three weeks ago… thought i just overexerted myself but… turns out it was worse than that. Which brings me to the reason I actually ended up in the hospital.

So here I was… meeting some friends from an online group that's basically made by therians for therians, which is an outdoor activity club for those of us that love exercising with our new formed abilities! Tell ya what, ain’t a damn human out there that can teach ya better how to use that tail for balance than some cat therian who already figured it out~ it’s quite specific and you gotta get a feel for it.. but their explanations helped a lot in increasing my stability when free running! Anyway I trailed off.

So I met those people again, that day it was another wolf therian like me- wait.. not like me, forgot i’m a hellhound for a second-, then there was that persian cat therian guy… and big ol’ me! We started easy with warm ups and stretches… that's also when my chest felt tight again for a moment.. but it went away really quickly so i ignored that… bad mistake.

Then we started running around the park at first.. into a more urban area of Hyper City, where we started to climb the buildings, jump some walls… typical kinda parkour stuff! It felt great having the wind in my fur, and doing it with a couple people that get it the same way I do! And boy oh boy am I happy they were there with me…

Memory is a bit hazy… but I just remember being… hot.. like literally… my chest felt tight as hell, pun intended, and I was literally in mid jumping motion, past the point of no return…. two… and a half stories above some alleyway… and I freaking passed out, like that… From what the others told me I was right behind them… and then I was gone… but they saw some smoke coming up from in between the buildings… I was incredibly lucky I fell into a dumpster.. but must have hit the wall straight on before that… They had trouble getting me out cause… turns out when i told Mars i’d love to have a “fire in my chest”... the eldritch must have listened and taken it literally.. or it’s simply a hellhound thing to have freaking FIRE IN YOUR CHEST. But yeah grabbing me was difficult, too close to my chest and they got burned… even my freaking tank top burned away… god am i lucky i got fur covering my chest already.. the possible embarrassment!!

But yeah they apparently got me out, called the hospital… and rest is uh history.

According to the doctor’s i had several broken bones… collar… lower legs.. right arm and shoulder… minor fracture of the skull.. lots of shaved skin from hitting a literal brick wall..

and to top it all off… freaking 185 degree fahrenheit (or 85° Celsius for us europeans) fever.

They apparently had to put me into an ice bath… and cooled me with tons of ice packs to try and fight the “fever”. Only when Erian, after they had called him in for a consult, figured out what was going on, they simply put me on heat proof bedding and sheets… and kept the temperatures from reaching too high. Guess we Hellhounds can grow a flame organ, kinda like dragons, in our chest.. When I asked them later if that means I can breathe fire they shrugged… I tried but nothing came out except for some smoke.. we all start small… but what we did find out was that, the heat that the organ produces is linked to my emotions.

When i get angry, it goes up a lot! Happiness and excitement raises it somewhat and the calmer i am, the more towards “normal” temperatures it goes… Still don’t know what sadness does cause… they didn’t wanna force me to cry… tough luck trying in the first place, but they hypoth-... hyppo… they think it would lower the temperature further.

Anyway i am trying my best to stay calm and not get mad cause… while my organ is already functioning pretty well… my body still can’t handle the heat super well… It hurts when it gets too high and I end up with fever symptoms… so yeah gotta wait till I build up some resistance.

Oh if you’re interested… i was apparently out for about 12 days- plus side, almost two new releases of my shows to watch! But… when i was out… I had some weird dreams… about the moon?... but also about those places i’ve seen from that ritual… They asked me to elaborate about it but nuh-uh, not gonna say a word to them! Not before I talked to Mars about it. Anyway yeah i remember some… weird creature trying to talk to me, didn’t understand a single word but it looked… at least a very little like mars… just… no visible eyes.. some long ass head… and big fucking grin…

Had some time to think about it all a bit.. and one thing strikes me as odd. While i do take my meds during the early hours and the evening… the changes happen mostly at night… at least the biggest ones… sure the pain carries through the day but it only ever gets really bad at night… So it’s odd that my organ started to become active during the day… hm… bad luck i guess.

Now I gotta explain myself to Erian… way too many questions but he allowed me to rest for now before he comes back and asks them again… “Where did you get those meds? What species did you choose? Are you getting your check ups? Did you think for a moment before taking some back alley medicine?!”... blah blah…. as if it wasn’t partly his fault i had to ask some more… devious powers to help. Not that I regret it. Though it was nice of him to talk to the staff to let me continue taking those meds for now! I’m also back on his schedule again… probably better to be on “Mysterious alien provided Hellhound HRT” with a doctor that has seen a couple weird things already. Therian care seems to be still a little bit of an issue in most hospitals.... then again who can say they have an idea how to treat a hellhound… not something people face on a regular basis like a dog or a cat…

The only annoying part is that… i’m now pretty much stationary… I get some visits from friends of the support group, and the runners group too, they bring me things I need… like a new tank top for when i finally get out of here…

Oh yeah-... and the pain… god having broken bones AND changing bone structure is NO FUN! And the painkillers they give me are wack…. urgh note to myself… if anything feels slightly off before or during a run… stick to the low ground…

________________________________

Yay Part two done! Lets keep the fun times going~

Previous | Next(Coming soon)

#animal hrt #therian hrt #otherkin hrt #therian #hellhound hrt #trans artist #hellhound

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ausibee · 3 days ago

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My experiences with anti-radqueers, xenosatanists, and basedqueers

Hi, I'm Ausibee or Bee. I'm a freshly-turned 19y/o with a lot to say about all three of these groups, so let's start this right. First and foremost, anyone who thinks the RQC and anti-radqueers started in 2023 stay the fuck away from this post, ty. So, around 3 years ago I was very heavily anti-radqueer, like "all radqueers should kts" anti-radqueer. I was young(15), and easily influenced by the fact that everybody around me hated radqueers. I was friends at the time with a vehement anti-radqueer; he went by the name Monster. Idk if anybody remembers him, but hey there's a chance. Now, Monster was older than me. Almost 20 at the time, but a good friend nonetheless. He offered to take me on a roadtrip across Australia, since we both lived there, and I being the naive kid I was agreed to it. Monster, as it would turn out, was a bait blog. A xenosatanist and basedqueer under cover as an anti-radqueer. I learned this the hard way. The last thing I remember I was hopping in the back of his truck, and when I woke up we weren't in australia anymore. He'd thrown out everything I had with me when we left. He took me to the UK, and I've been here since trying to escape him while he tries to convert me to xenosatanism, on top of the abuse(both physical and sexual) he's put me through. I got out! Not that long ago, I managed to get a phone and call the police and get out. Now I have a problem. I'm in the UK, all alone. My parents are poor, and the law enforcement won't pay for me to find my way home. I can't set up a paypal; I don't have my card, and I can't get one here. I can't use anything, really. My parents are collecting what they can in the town we're from and raising money there, I have faith they will get enough, so this is NOT a request for money. All I ask of you, anyone reading this, is that you share my story. Please. I need people to know.

#anti radqueer #anti prat #anti radq #anti rq #radqueer #pro radq #radq safe #radq interact #pro radqueer #xenosatanism #anti xenosatanist #peri xenosatanist #basedqueer

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generallemarc · 2 days ago

Photo

A few interesting facts to note:

Unlike every other election since '92, the Libertarians were not the best-performing third party, actually coming in 5th place, with the Greens taking third. This is absolutely because of RFK, since if you were to combine his vote tally with the Libertarians' they'd be nearly double that of the Greens.

The parties of all the minor candidates not among the big three(RFK, the Libertarians, and the Greens, are as follows):

Cornel West: Independent, running on some kind of libertarian socialist platform with a focus on how everything is racist or whatever.

Joel Skoussen: Constitution Party. If the Greens are the party of morons who got rejected from the Democrats for being too far left and too retarded about supporting Russia, China and every other autocracy they can find, then the Constitution Party is the party of morons who got rejected from the Republicans for being too far right and too retarded about wanting to go full isolationist and pull out of every treaty we're in and also abolish basically the entire government based on incredible feats of logic like "the Federal Aviation Administration wasn't specifically mentioned in the Constitution, therefore it is unconstitutional and must be abolished." These are the guys who actually would implement Project 2025.

Richard Duncan: Perennial candidate(meaning a candidate who runs in every election despite not having any meaningful support), independent, running to oppose the two-party system. Only on the ballot in Ohio.

Shiva Ayyadurai: Conspiracy theorist who believed that covid was being intentionally spread by the government and that vitamins could cure it. Claimed to have invented the idea of email in the 80s. Ineligible to actually become president due to not being a natural-born American citizen. His Wikipedia page spends an inordinate amount of time trying to convince the reader that this Indian man born in Mumbai is a white supremacist.

Claudia De La Cruz: Party for Socialism and Liberation. Ran on a platform of cutting military spending by 90%, paying reparations for slavery to people never affected by it using money that could have gone to poverty relief for all races instead of just one, nationalizing the 100 largest companies in America, and other commie bullshit. Her party is a member of the International Peoples' Assembly, which has held meetings in Venezuela and Cuba and is generally filled with rabid supporters of every far-left and anti-Western autocracy on the planet. Only candidate on this list whose platform was basically "I will end representative democracy in this country", unless you count the Constitution Party's plans as promising that by way of deliberately tearing down so much of the government that the country falls apart, at which point there is no representative democracy in the country because there is no country at all.

Mattie Preston: Independent. Pastor running on a platform that's both based in religion(she spoke in an interview about God's love for everyone, including the unsaved and demographics that are stereotyped as being "rejected" by Christians such as gay people) but not in a "make the Bible law" kind of way. Non-partisanship was a part of her campaign, with her declaring "God is not a Democrat; He's not a Republican." Wanted to close the border until the immigration system could be fixed up enough to properly vet all incoming immigrants. Ballotpedia lists her as running for the "Godliness, Truh, Justice" party, but since I can't find any information on that alleged organization anywhere else it's likely that it's nothing more than a name to put after hers on the ballot.

Michael Wood: Prohibition Party. This group has actually changed over the past few elections, taking a more moderate stance on issues like abortion(they say it ought to be left up to the states and do not support a nationwide ban) and immigration(supporting stricter standards but not calling for a border closure and speaking positively of immigrants as a whole). They have even dropped their long-held goal of bringing back the 18th Amendment wholesale and banning all alcohol nationwide. That said, they're still quite nutty on the issue of alcohol and drugs. They want a nationwide ban on all recreational drugs, marijuana included, as well as a nationwide ban on all tobacco products and vaping. While they no longer seek to apply this to alcohol, they do seek a ban on alcohol advertising "similar to that on tobacco advertising", which basically means none whatsoever, stricter controls on the licensing of "alcohol outlets"(so stores and bars), and a presumably large increase in the excise tax on alcohol, which while not stated directly is definitely for the purpose of discouraging its purchase by making it too expensive.

Peter Sonski: American Solidarity Party. A syncretic party that is center-left on fiscal issues(so basically the current administration) while mostly right-wing on cultural issues, but due to being a Christian-democratic party in the European style they support what is known as the "consistent life ethic", that being opposition to all forms of state-sponsored death, namely abortion, euthanasia and the death penalty, the latter of which they believe should be abolished.

Best-Performing Third-Party candidate by county in the 2024 Presidential Election

#presidential elections #election 2024 #us elections #us election 2024 #2024 presidential election #2024 election

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persephone-writes · 2 days ago

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A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Twelve: Discontent

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Eleven

Description: Dumbledore is a bit odd (expected), Lily is kind (what else is new), and James…well, he's a whole other matter.

Word Count: 4.9k

McGonagall’s boots clicked against the floor as she moved at a clipped pace down the corridors, glancing over her shoulder every once in a while to eye the three of you following behind. Her mouth was still pursed, everything about her wound like a coil. As you neared the Grand Staircase, more students began to pass, regarding your odd group with curious stares and whispers to their friends. McGonagall gave every wayward student a harsh look of warning, sending a fair few shrinking away.

You hurried behind McGonagall blindly, never having visited Professor Dumbledore’s office before, leaving you with no real idea where it was located. She led you up the staircase to the second floor, winding down a hall which was entirely vacant of students or professors. When you turned down another long corridor, you were taken aback by the sight of a golden gargoyle looming at the end. You tried to search Peter’s expression for some explanation, though his gaze darted from yours, back to McGonagall who had come to a stop in front of the figure.

“Cherry clafoutis,” she said, her hands coming to clasp behind her back.

In a moment, the gargoyle came to life, its newly animated eyes appearing to search those who stood before it. Once it had made its judgments it moved aside, the stone wall it had been guarding splitting into two, sliding open to reveal a spiral staircase.

“Wait here,” McGonagall instructed before stepping inside the entrance and onto the first step. Without a word, the staircase began to turn upwards, carrying McGonagall until she disappeared into the ceiling. The stone wall closed behind her, though the gargoyle did not move back to its original position.

A beat passed before Peter sighed, his head dropping forward. “How long do you think this is going to take?”

“You’re the one who’s been called to his office before. You tell me,” Marlene said, crossing her arms.

“That was different! This might take hours, for all we know.”

“You’re the one who wanted to do it so early,” you grumbled. “I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

“It wasn’t my idea to do it now,” Peter muttered under his breath.

“You’re getting rather outspoken lately,” Marlene said, her brows furrowed as she watched his frown deepen. “I’m not sure if I like it.”

Suddenly, the stone wall opened again, the staircase turning to lower McGonagall to your level. She quickly emerged, peering across you all in a far less stern manner than she had all morning. Marlene uncrossed her arms, straightening out her jumper as McGonagall neared.

“Miss McKinnon,” she began, “Professor Dumbledore would like to see you first.”

“Alone?” Marlene asked, her eyes widening.

“Yes,” McGonagall answered curtly.

Marlene nodded, moving past McGonagall towards the staircase. She stepped up, her eyes meeting yours as she was carried up, the walls closing behind her like they had before.

After a few agonizing minutes in which no one spoke at all, Marlene came back out, her countenance largely unchanged. You attempted to read what had happened from her face, though it proved impossible.

“You’re next, Mister Pettigrew,” said McGonagall, motioning towards the entrance.

The same event occurred as Marlene. Peter was taken up the stairs, held for a few minutes, coming back down not any more uneasy than he was when he left. This did little to calm your heart when McGonagall looked at you, speaking even though it was plainly evident what she would say.

“Miss L/N,” she said, urging you inside.

You took a breath, stepping forward into the opening in the wall, gazing up at the expanse of the staircase. It seemed to go on for stories and stories, how many you could never begin to tell. After a second or two, you slowly began to rise, the sound of the stone moving like a steady drum in your ears. The walls closed behind you, leaving you all alone.

At the top of the staircase was a single, shining oak door, in the middle of which was a regal griffin knocker. As you wondered if you should knock or wait to be called, the door opened, Professor Dumbledore standing before you with a pleasant, muted smile. His appearance was the one and only thing you really knew about him, besides the speeches he made a few times a year. His hair and beard were long, half silver and neatly combed. Just like always, he wore traditional wizard robes, this time in a shade of deep scarlet.

“Miss L/N,” he greeted, his voice far more jovial than you had been expecting.

“Hello, Professor,” you said, a bit at a loss for words. You had no prior experience to inform you how one usually acted in these sorts of situations, leaving you to fly by the seat of your pants.

“Come in,” he said, stepping away to allow you inside.

Your nerves nearly dissipated completely when you entered his office, taken aback by the windows facing the mountainside, the rain streaking diagonally across the panes casting shadows along the floors. Various planetary models littered the room, as well as towering cabinets, tables, oil lamps, and chairs. Bookshelves lined the rounded walls, above them dozens of portraits in golden frames, all dozing to the sound of the crackling fire burning in the hearth. As your mind wandered to every new, dazzling sight, Dumbledore moved about the room, walking to a massive desk strewn with papers. In front of it was a large chair, presumably for you. Broken from your trance, you scurried towards it and sat down, though your eyes were soon pulled from Dumbledore again.

“That is Fawkes,” Dumbledore said, glancing behind him at the phoenix sitting on a perch. “I hope you will not mind if he is present for our meeting.”

“No, not at all, sir,” you said quickly.

“I have all ready received a full account of the events from Professor McGonagall, as well as from Mister Pettigrew and Miss McKinnon,” he began, staring at you over his half-moon spectacles. “Quite the tale, I must say. Do you make a habit of wandering the corridors after curfew?”

“No, sir.” Your nerves had returned, especially since your first answer was a stone cold lie.

He did not speak for a moment, seeming to consider your answer. “Tell me again how you three in particular stumbled upon this meeting,” he asked, his tone light and somewhat amused.

You swallowed, captured by his penetrating gaze, which although was not menacing, seemed to know you far better than it should. “We were going to the kitchens when we saw Zephyr on the Grand Staircase. We were curious, so we followed him from afar—”

“Yes, yes. This is what your associates said as well,” he chuckled. “I did not know you and Mister Pettigrew were close.”

“Not particularly, but we each share a love of a late night snack.”

Dumbledore laughed again, more hearty this time. “Professor McGonagall says you are a fair student, though a bit distracted as of late,” he paused, his smile dropping, though he still did not appear upset with you. “Would you care to tell me why? Perhaps it is something your professors can help you with.”

“I think I’m just getting nervous about the N.E.W.Ts, nothing a bit of studying won’t quell,” you answered, trying to force an unaffected expression.

“You are in the Astronomy Club, are you not?”

You nodded. “Yes, Professor. I joined second year.”

“Astronomy is one of your best subjects, I see,” he said, glancing down at some of the papers lying in front of him. He picked one up, reading it briefly. “That and Divination. Professor Quattlebaum has some lovely things to say regarding your work, particularly on your most recent assignment.”

Your hands fiddled in your lap, your heart beginning to beat faster than ever. You hadn’t even gotten your essay back yet, though it was rather comforting to hear you aced it. You wondered what Professor Quattlebaum had written about you, if he mentioned the specifics of your project.

“Divination was never my best subject,” Dumbledore began again, dropping the paper back down on his desk. His small smile returned, partially hidden beneath his beard. “I trust yours and Miss McKinnon’s words, as well as Mister Pettigrew’s, in this case. I have no doubt that what you all have told me regarding your peers' activities is the truth. I would ask you to extend your trust to me as well. I promise that I will deal with the situation accordingly,” he paused, his eyes darting down to your nervous hands before returning to yours. “You have my word you shall remain safe while under my care.”

You nodded again, trying to return his kind look the best you could.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss L/N?” he asked.

“No, Professor.”

“I will keep you no longer, then.” Dumbledore stood, running his hands along his robes as he walked around his desk. You followed him over to the door, glancing behind you at Fawkes, who was still preening on his perch. Just as Dumbledore’s hand reached for the brass handle, he turned back to you, his robes billowing out a bit around his feet. “Until Professor McGonagall tells you otherwise, please take all your meals in the kitchens. I am sure you know where to locate it.”

You nodded as he opened the door. “Thank you, Headmaster,” you said, forcing yourself to look up at him. You felt it may have been a mistake, for Dumbledore’s eyes glimmered, seeming to peer into all your lies and the things you longed to keep hidden.

Despite your worries, he spoke nothing of your demeanor or your falsehoods. “You are quite welcome,” he said warmly, watching as you stepped back onto the spiral staircase, shutting the door behind you.

The first thing you noticed when you walked through the opening was Marlene’s frantic eyes, her head motioning for you to hurry up. Thankfully, she was behind McGonagall, who could not see her outburst.

“I trust you three can make your way back without my assistance,” McGonagall said, turning to each of you.

“Yes, Professor,” Marlene replied.

With a final, stringent look, McGonagall went back to the staircase, the walls closing and the gargoyle moving back to the guard over the entrance. Your shoulders relaxed, finally without a professor watching your every movement.

“What did he say?” Marlene asked.

“Basically nothing,” you said with a small laugh. “What an office, though.”

Marlene rolled her eyes, following you back down the corridor, Peter rushing along as well.

“I think he believed us,” he began, “or he didn’t care.”

Marlene breathed fast out of her nose, shaking her head. “Probably the latter.”

“It doesn’t matter. We only had thirty points taken, which is peanuts compared to what we could've gotten,” you said.

“Do you know what they’re going to do?” Marlene asked after a beat.

“No, only that I have to eat in the kitchens for the foreseeable future,” you whispered despite the fact that you three were the only ones in the corridor. After Lady Decima, it was a force of habit.

Marlene sighed. “I wonder what they’re going to do with them. Do you think they’ll go to the Department of Law Enforcement?”

“I don’t know,” you said hesitantly. “Probably not. I’d imagine they like to keep things in-house as much as possible. Besides, they haven’t committed a crime yet. I’m not sure what the Ministry would even do with them.”

“Snivellus on trial,” Marlene said. “That’ll be the day.”

Peter laughed a bit, less skittish now that you were all a safe distance from Dumbledore’s office.

“Don’t say that sort of thing in front of Lily,” you warned, looking to each of them. “I feel bad enough for her as it is. I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s feeling.”

“We tried to warn her,” Marlene said, her voice low.

“Doesn’t matter,” you began, matching her sullen tone. “He wasn’t always like this.”

You and Marlene left Peter on the Grand Staircase to head for the kitchens while he went to the Great Hall, fortunate to not be under the same restrictions as yourself. While you offered to eat alone, Marlene wouldn’t hear any of it, refusing to leave you to dine in the kitchens by yourself, save for the house elves.

When you arrived at the painting of a bowl of fruit, tickling the pear to reveal the entrance, it burst open almost immediately. You and Marlene jumped back, startled by Isby standing with her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed as she stared you down.

“Who goes there!” she said, putting on her most threatening voice, though it remained rather high-pitched. Behind her, the tall stone walls littered with brass pots and pans reflected rays of light from the large fire, illuminating the room in a warm glow.

“Oh,” you said, glancing at Marlene before telling Isby your name. Marlene did the same, though she did not stand down from her post.

“Headmaster Dumbledore has told Isby not to allow anyone but Miss L/N into the kitchens,” she began, now looking towards Marlene. “I is sorry, Miss McKinnon, but Isby cannot let you in.”

“I am friends with Miss McKinnon,” you said in an attempt to persuade her. “I promise, she is not who Professor Dumebledore is trying to keep out.” Isby did not move, nor did her face change. “I swear it.”

A moment passed where Isby eyed Marlene with great suspicion, her large ears moving back a fraction when you stepped forward.

“Isby is not pleased,” she said slowly, “but I will allow it.” She stepped aside, allowing you and Marlene to pass through into the kitchens.

“Thank you, Isby,” you said with a smile towards her, though she only squeaked, turning away to leave you both be.

─────────•°•❀•°•─────────

The seriousness of your predicament came and went, sometimes overpowering all other thoughts, other times like the noise of a radio turned low in the background. For the first part of the morning, the daunting task of having to report Mulciber and the others took over your mind, though that was now over and done with. As you walked back from the kitchens with Marlene, silent and brooding, all you could remember was the fish, the crow, and the dream. This had to be it, you thought. Surely, it must. What could ever be worse than this?

When you arrived back at Gryffindor Tower, Lily, Remus, and Peter were sitting on the far side of the room, surrounded by chatting students playing games or doing schoolwork. Lily was one such student, though the quill in her hand was unmoving, tapping against her parchment. Her head popped up with you and Marlene came over, throwing yourselves down in some empty chairs.

“Where were you two?” she asked.

“The kitchens, I have to eat there now,” you answered, keeping your voice quiet.

“I got interrogated by one of the house elves, Isby,” Marlene began. “I guess I look like a seedy character.”

“You can’t fault them for being careful. It’s not as if they know every student in the castle. And after, you know…” Lily hesitated, her eyes still filled with lingering worry, “no one is off limits anymore.”

“Does this mean we can’t go to the kitchens anymore?” Peter asked, utterly dejected.

Remus chuckled, glancing up from his novel. “We have the cloak, nowhere is off limits to us.”

Peter sighed, “But what a pain it’ll be—”

Suddenly, the portrait hole opened, a clambering noise of multiple pairs of feet stomping inside. You turned to see James, Sirius, and Dorcas rushing in, though James was the most hectic, his eyes darting madly this way and that in search of something.

“Here we go,” Remus murmured, turning back to his book.

When James spotted your group he instantly ran over, not looking at anyone but yourself. You had not seen him since last night when you each had engaged in perhaps your first row with each other. However, James did not seem deterred by this, acting as if the whole thing never happened.

“How’d it go?” he asked, his glasses crooked from his mad dash.

“Fine,” you said, glancing nervously at Marlene. “McGonagall took thirty points, but that's it.”

James shrugged, unbothered by this revelation. “Well, Lily and me can make that up in no time. We give out the points.”

“And I,” Lily corrected with a snicker.

James huffed, knocking Dorcas on the arm when she started to chuckle. “Here, ten points to each of you for being brave,” he said, pausing for a moment as he regained his earlier urgency. “Did you have to go to Dumbledore?”

You nodded, wanting to limit the amount of time you spoke with him as much as possible. As you looked at him, his hair tousled from practice, memories of last night came back to you, causing your face to heat despite your efforts to stop it.

“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means we’re not shagging.”

“Well, you don’t have to act so disgusted by it!”

“What am I supposed to say? No, Dorcas, we’re not shagging, though I’d like to clarify that I don’t find James to be a repulsive troll.”

You wanted to crawl under a rock, especially since Sirius had yet to tease you about what had happened, and you knew it’d be a doozy. You saw something mischievous shining in his eyes and you braced yourself for further embarrassment.

“Got to meet the big guy,” he said with a smirk. “That's a rare honor.”

You let out a small, silent sigh of relief. He had gone extremely easy on you, this time anyway.

“I could’ve gone my whole life without it,” Marlene groaned.

Sirius’s smile widened at Marlene’s reaction, brushing his hair away from his face, the ends still wet from the showers. “But what an office, right?”

“I hate that bird,” Peter said, his eyes wary. “It feels like it knows what you’re talking about.”

“It probably does,” Dorcas laughed.

Marlene rolled her eyes. “How do you know? You’ve never been called into his office before.”

“There’s no way Dumbledore has a bird that doesn’t understand English,” Dorcas said. “What kind is it anyway?”

“A phoenix, his name is Fawkes,” James answered, turning back to you. “So, what are they going to do about it?”

You shrugged, feeling sheepish under his gaze. You never realized how difficult this would be, even if James seemed content on pretending as if everything was normal. You weren’t sure if you could forget the fact he had concealed the truth from you, or the possibility that it was because he was ashamed Mulciber would link the two of you romantically.

“Dumbledore only told me to eat in the kitchens. Whatever it is they’re going to do with them, no one told me,” you answered, standing from your chair before he could reply. You paused, awkward as you stood in front of everyone, your heart racing as James’s eyes still burned on your cheeks. “I have to get some work done. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Are you sure you should be alone?” James asked, watching closely as you moved around the chairs so you wouldn't have to pass him.

“I’m just going to my room, not romping around the forest.” You nearly cringed at your biting words, though he didn’t say a thing as you went bounding up the staircase to your dormitory, admittedly at a speed atypical of someone who wasn’t trying to escape.

Hunched over your desk, you barely heard the knock at the door of your room, turning around only when it creaked open. Lily’s head popped through, her auburn hair bright against the walls.

“Can I come in?” she asked softly.

You nodded, looking back down at your History of Magic textbook. You were surprised it had taken someone this long to come up, for you had gotten about forty-five minutes of pure solitude.

Lily threw her parchment, quill, and inkwell onto her bed before sitting down beside it, seemingly waiting for you to speak, though she was met with nothing.

“It’s going to be all right,” she said eventually, the placidity of her voice undermined by a distinct nervousness. You couldn’t blame her.

“I know,” you said, dropping your head in your hand while your eyes remained towards your work.

Somewhat humorously, you recalled that it wasn’t too long ago that your biggest worry in life was her finding out you liked James. Now, that was only the cherry on top of the heap of rubbish collecting by your feet. You wondered if all the rest would become too much, forcing you to offload something onto her, thus ending your friendship as you knew it. Given the circumstances, you were proud that you had been able to hold off this long.

“Don’t worry about Mulciber and them,” she said, a bit brighter now. “Dumbledore is the best wizard of our age. This is probably the safest place you could be.”

You nodded again, your chest beginning to ache. “I just,” you began, your sentence falling off as you turned to face her. Lily’s green eyes started back into yours with more compassion than you believed you could ever deserve, and it made you want to weep. “I know he is, I know they’ll do everything they can, but it’s not about me. Mulciber went after Mary, and then me, and who else will he go for? It doesn’t matter if we stop them this time. It’ll never end.”

“It will,” she said. “I promise, it will. There are people who are trying to end it right now, their names just don’t make it into the Prophet.”

Your elbows rested on your knees as your head fell into your hands again, this time obscuring your face from her view. You remembered five years ago, your father dropping you off at Lily’s house in Cokesworth during the summer holiday, sitting in her living room watching The Wizard of Oz, giggling at the magic while her sister Petunia sulked in the corner. That day you had learned what the tube was, as well as the turntable and all the records Lily had in her bedroom. That same summer, Lily had helped you charm one to work at your house, which like most wizard homes was not outfitted with the proper electrical work (meaning none at all) to run it. You longed for that summer again, the simplicity of your world, the way every new song seemed to reveal something lovelier than the last.

You took your hands from your face, lifting to see Lily still looking at you like she had been before. The corner of her mouth pulled into a sad smile, the way it had been doing more and more these days.

You rubbed your eyes, your hand dropping limply onto your leg. “I was just thinking about when I went to your house for the first time.”

“That was fun,” she said, her feet kicking a bit against the floor. “Then you had to leave to go on holiday.”

“My parents wouldn’t let me bring the turnable,” you chuckled bitterly. “I told myself I wouldn’t talk to them the entire time.”

“How long did that last?”

“Not very,” you said, pausing as the memory faded and the present returned. You looked down at your feet, the tightness in your chest growing.

Lily said your name quietly, causing you to glance back up. “I think you ought to go to Professor Taurisus. He might be able to help you.”

“You’re right,” you sighed. As always.

Lily’s gaze drifted over your drained expression as her legs stilled, the wind howling along the tower. “Are you and James going to be all right?” she asked carefully.

You shrugged, pursing your lips as you thought over what you could afford to reveal. “I don’t know. Eventually, I guess,” you stopped, laughing at yourself. “I’m not even sure how upset I want to be with him.”

“He was an arse,” she said, shaking her head a bit. “He’s such a baby sometimes. If you were cross with him, no one would blame you.”

“I know. I’m just not sure how much more I can handle,” you said, slumping in your chair. “It’s just one more thing after another.”

“If you give him the silent treatment he’ll apologize in two days, tops. Always worked with me.”

Your heart panged at the reminder of their former relationship, nearly making you wince. “That was different.”

She leaned back on her hands, shaking her head at you. It was similar to something Marlene would’ve done, though less jaunty and more peaceful. No matter how low your mood got, it was rare that Lily would allow you to wallow in it. Her and James were the same in that way.

“No, it’s not,” she began. “You’re his mate. Besides, everyone knows he fucked up. Dorcas was livid with him this morning. Remus said she nearly took out her wand before Sirius stopped her. The only reason she was civil downstairs was because she knows it would’ve upset you.”

“Well, it’s not that hard to get Dorcas angry,” you said, smiling at the thought.

“You’re right,” Lily chuckled, “but it’s always justified.” Soon, she stood from her bed, moving around the side to grab some books from her own desk. She shoved some into her bag, grabbing the things lying on her bed and tossing them in as well. “Come on, let’s go to the Library. That’s the only proper place to be when it’s raining.”

─────────•°•❀•°•─────────

The storm had let up a bit, though rain still trickled softly down the diamond panes of the tall windows, its music flowing through the Library like an orchestra number of your discontent. You and Lily had been there for hours, briefly interrupted by Mary who had stopped for a quick hello. She had yet to learn about what had happened either on Thursday or last night, though you refrained from informing her, thinking it best for Dorcas to break the news. You thought she had a right to know, given her history with Mulciber, and she could keep a secret well enough.

You had worked through lunch, having no reason to make it to the Great Hall in time given that you couldn’t eat there anyway. In the afternoon, Lily unceremoniously shut her books, dragging you up to go to the kitchens. Your hopes that her position as Head Girl would give her enough credibility to pass Isby’s tough guardianship were not in vain, for after a bit of grumbling, Isby gave you both passage inside. You each made yourselves your own lunches, letting the house elves prepare for dinner without having to wait on you as well.

“So,” Lily began, poking at her half eaten sandwich, “did Dumbledore really not tell you anything about what he’s planning to do?”

You shook your head, swirling your finger over your glass of water to make a whirlpool. It was about as much as you could do without your wand. “Absolutely nothing.”

“I guess that might be a good sign. Maybe it means whatever he’s going to do is serious,” she offered, obviously trying to make the best of an otherwise abysmal situation.

“Yeah, maybe,” you replied without much enthusiasm, pushing your plate away from you. “I wish I knew something, anything, really.”

Lily looked sadly at your plate, her mouth in a line. “You’ll hear something eventually. He might not know exactly what he’s going to do yet. I wouldn’t.”

“No offense Lily, but you’re not Dumbledore,” you said, watching as a house elves walked across the kitchen, a large bag of flour floating behind.

“You got me there,” she laughed, stacking her plate on top of yours. “I’m ready when you are.”

You thanked Isby as you left the kitchens, pleased at the meager smile she gave you before running off. At least it was something.

Mid-conversation with Lily, you nearly didn’t notice him leaning against the wall beside the Fat Lady, his ankles and arms crossed. You seemed to see each other at the same time, each perking up considerably. He took his hands from the pockets of his jeans, adjusting his glasses.

“James,” you said, for it was the only thing you could muster given your surprise.

He stood up straight, moving off the wall though not taking a step towards you and Lily. You couldn’t pinpoint its exact location, perhaps it was his shoulders or his brow, though something about him appeared tense and distinctly uncomfortable. It was a rare sight, only furthering your desire to get as far away from him as possible.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes darting towards Lily for a moment. You expected him to continue, though he did not, standing there in silence. Unfortunately, Lily said nothing as well, likely as perplexed as you were.

“Where are the others?” you asked, the question coming out rather desperate. as if you had some important business with one of them.

“Sirius is with Seraphina,” he began, pausing for a moment as he shifted on his feet. “Remus and Peter are…well, I don’t know where they are.”

Another silent beat passed, your whole body charged with a special anxiety saved just for James. Thankfully, Lily came to rescue you.

“That's a first,” she said with a bit of a laugh, turning to you briefly as she adjusted the bag on your shoulder. “Well, we’re going up to the room, so—”

“Actually,” James interjected, his eyes fixed upon yours. “I was wondering if I could talk to you a moment?”

Fuck.

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