#this au is for me and only me. this au will be the one making me sad as hell

[lovieku]

MOTHERFUCKIN’ TRAIN WRECK! ⋆ 정국

𐙚 if you were my boyfriend… and you were my girlfriend…

when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.

based on this ask

from the grande series ୨ৎ

pairing: fuckboy!jk x fem!reader

genre: fwb au

warnings: small smutty moments (cunnilingus, fingering, tiny boob play), angst, fluffi maybe idk, whipped and jelly koo, ft. namjoon!!!, oblivious oc, deep down she feels it too but jk is simply too much of a simp so it doesn’t look like it at first, he’s also so petty and sassy, jokes about ending it if oc doesn’t give him a chance </3, he’s just a little shit, peep the lyrics from boyfriend hehe, oh btw happy ending!!!

word count: 18k

a/n: wowww i’m so sorry for this pile of nonsense, it’s so bad i vomited a little in my mouth. i hate every single thing about it but i didn’t wanna leave you guys starved. i love u sm and thank u for the support, but u’re allowed to leave hate asks for what u’re about to read rn ❤️ also i’m SO SORRY for being unable to write a jungkook who isn’t a simp

🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @dolligguk @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @mpbrinkss @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive

────୨ৎ────

Jeongguk was only supposed to clean you up. That’s what he calls it when his angelic face finds its place between your spread legs, sinful eyes locking with yours, paired with a smirk you can hardly ever survive.

After all, he’s a man of simple devices. Why bother fetching a towel when he can use his own mouth? When he can let his tongue lap at your juices, slurp every last trace, have an excuse to taste you again, and again, and again?

It’s barely even effective as a way to clean you up, of drying the slick mess that sticks to your inner thighs from cumming three times under his merciless doings— you both know that. Then, how does he expect you not to break a fourth when he runs his wet muscle so torturously along your slit, getting ever more soaked?

Jeongguk is not really trying to end the night. He’s drawing it out. He already had you unraveling in phases— first on his fingers, then all over his cupid lips, ending with you convulsating just another time around his thick length.

It was rough, left purplish marks of his harsh hold digging into your sides, a faint trace of a forbidden hickey just under your collarbones, where you can easily hide it.

In all fairness, he couldn’t help it.

It was you who provoked him. You always do, getting under his skin, teasing him about his skills, downgrading them with playful indifference and nothing more than a meh, as Jeongguk rasps in your ear, clearly affected by your session of foreplay when asking, “Does this make you feel good?”

You’ll be sent straight to hell for lying like that, with seemingly no remorse, but you’re unable to resist the dangerous game and the familiar thrill that comes from it. Nothing compares to the dark wave that takes over his hooded eyes, his motions ever more intentional, almost overwhelming.

He moves to prove something to you, to show you there’s no one quite like him, even with all the guys in your phone, on your lips, inside your sheets.

Jeongguk is your fuckbuddy, and your friend on top of the rest. So, when he first laid his lips on yours, the bottom line plumper than his cupid’s bow, it had taken a great amount of alcohol to flow through both of your veins and blur the lines, let instinct take over.

From there, it was like you couldn’t help yourselves; the physical attraction was undeniable, it’s what brought you here in between the mess of his bed. If you ignore the silly crush you had on him during the first year of college, this was perfect.

Your fuckbuddy contract (Jeongguk hates calling you that, he prefers my friend who makes me cum a lot) includes a heavy emphasis on a no-strings-attached relationship, that can be interrupted whenever one of the two feels uncomfortable, and that should not come before your friendship. On top of all, you both are not exclusive. No commitment, no jealousy. You’re perfectly free of meeting other people, fucking other people. Unless you’re going to date one of those, of course. Then, bye-bye friend who makes me cum a lot.

These rules were established almost a year ago, after your hands couldn’t help themselves from roaming hastily all over his body, pulling him impossibly closer. It was the second time you allowed yourself to feel him, following the night when he initiated things under the clouded lights of a club.

You couldn’t help it. You had been thinking of that moment for weeks now, and when you were left alone with him in his dorm room, pulse racing, it’s all your thoughts were reduced to. Kiss him, kiss him, fuck him.

You felt guilty. A friend shouldn’t be thinking of another friend like you were about Jeongguk. Especially after you promised yourself you wouldn’t let your buried crush resurface and ruin what you had built— even if the memory of that infatuation is honestly just laughable now (you would never think of dating him, pft).

But Jeongguk, ever the gentlest when it comes to you, assured you it was okay to feel as you did, because he felt it too. And was dying to touch you again. His words, not yours.

It’s only sexual. A casual, sexual relationship. Two friends who happen to find each other irresistible.

So when he reacts with a flash of competitiveness at the mere suggestion he might not be the best you’ve ever had, it’s… weird, the feeling that overcomes you. You acknowledge it for a split second, as if you’re searching to name that something inside you stirring, but before you can, it seems to make you fall apart immediately, your grip tighter, back arched, moans high-pitched.

He basks in his silent victory, in the factual demonstration that he in fact can’t be compared to all your other guys.

Except, there’s actually no other guys.

Back when this friends-with-benefits arrangement first started, you were occasionally fooling around with an older guy from campus named Mingyu. Jeongguk knew him, given that they’re in the same photography class. He was also aware of your casual fling with him. And yet, Jeongguk still kissed you. Actually, did so much more than just that.

Either way, the line has always been clear: he has no right to question who you spend time with and what you engage in, Jeongguk isn’t a saint either.

You love him, you truly do. With time, he has become one of your closest friends, and you honestly can’t see yourself getting through college without him.

But there’s no denying the fuckboy allegations, the ones that are constantly thrown at him all around campus. He is a fuckboy. It must be his easy charm, flirting as natural as breathing, tripping out his tongue with seemingly not much thought. At some point, the majority of the girls in your campus got to have their moment with Jeongguk, either because of mindless teasing or one night stands, occasionally turning into casual arrangements.

You have accepted it as part of who he is. You know his fuckboy habits haven’t magically changed when you two started fucking. He doesn’t really spend much time talking about it with you, occasionally mentioning his doings every now and then, but you don’t need to know; his friends and the people whispering in hallways and lecture halls fill in the blanks.

That is exactly why you’ve let Jeongguk believe that your sexual life is equally as busy, floods of boys from your inbox to your sheets, as if you aren’t too much of a hopeless romantic to even think of anything that isn’t exclusively monogamous.

But this isn’t the case. Jeongguk isn’t yours, you aren’t his. It’s just about sex, and you’ve accepted that. You don’t want anything more from him. You tell yourself the only reason you’re not seeing anyone else is that the idea of it makes you uneasy. That you’re more than satisfied with Jeongguk being your friend-turned-into-fuckbuddy, and you don’t need other ones.

Jeongguk is more than enough. Oh, he is.

“Fuck, Gguk. You’re gonna make me cum— Ah, shit— again.”

Your head is thrown back in his pillow, legs weakly tightening around his head nestled so close to your core, and it’s clear his goal has completely shifted from getting you clean and neat when the tip of his tongue moves to flicker on your sensitive nub, relentlessly abusing it with casual kissing and sucking.

He opens his mouth to take more of you, his wet muscle tracing your slit and teasing your entrance for— sadly —the shortest second, and the way he hums approvingly against you brings you even closer to the breaking point.

You’re a fragile mess, overstimulated from the previous orgasms but desperate to chase yet another climax, his hands roaming up to find your breast only spurring you further.

Jeongguk knows you by now, and is aware of all the subtle gestures that make you come undone under him. He knows just what to do to push you over the edge, and when to do it exactly.

You’re a sucker for dirty talk and praise, and occasionally, when the ideal situation comes, you love being degraded. It’s a side of you that only ever arises during sex, mind hazed and irrational, the delirious need for release clouding all your usually composed senses.

At first, he teased you for it. Not because he’s not as much of a fan as you are of talking during sex, but because he never pictured you to be the loud type. And you truly are.

Jeongguk pinches your nipples in hopes of you getting the message and lowering your volume, but it only makes you whine higher, your moans surely not going unnoticed by the other students in the dorm.

It can only be worse when he decides to speak against you, his voice a low, almost unintelligible growl, “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good. All mine, fuck. Want to taste your cum once again, c’mon babe. Give it to me.”

And you, always obliging and well-behaved, let go for a fourth time, hips furiously rutting against his face, his words making your surroundings spin, the way his nose would brush your sensitive nub having your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your gasp is strained when he retreats with one last wet stripe between your puffy lips, sealing the orgasm with a kiss on your clit, and when he finds your face again there’s a cockish grin spreading across his, chin coated with your juices.

He immediately meets your mouth then, sharing your own taste, and you both moan shamelessly at the action.

Jeongguk collapses next to you, his body warm and relaxed, pulling you closer by your waist and almost making you straddle him with the force of his hold. He sighs into your hair, kissing the root of it, “You did amazing for me, pretty girl.”

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine at the praise and the pet name rolling off his tongue with ease. It’s ridiculous.

With your cheek pressed against his chest, you glance up at him through your lashes and a lazy smile threatens to take over your face, but your playful pout is more prominent, almost convincing, “I’m never letting you do that trick on me again. Next time, I’m just going to take a shower like a normal person.”

The laugh he lets out is rich and unguarded, his chest rumbling under your ear, and it makes you pull away with a mock glare, brows knitted together as you swat at his toned stomach, “Don’t laugh. I hated that.”

His dark eyes soften as they dance with amusement, the corners crinkling, and he hums, going along with your blatant lie from the way your lips struggle to contain a grin, “Oh, absolutely. You were screaming in horror, couldn’t stand it.”

“Whatever,” you mutter incoherently, standing up to escape from the inevitable loss. The slick between your thighs reminds you of why you need that shower in the first place, causing you to awkwardly wobble your way to his bathroom.

Jeongguk watches you with a lopsided smirk, stretched out on the bed, his brown hair a messy halo on the pillow, and it completes the concept he goes perfectly with, the one of a devil dressed up as an angel, even more when his voice drips with faux desperation, “Hey, come back. I need my cuddles.”

“You’ll live,” you toss back before pulling the door shut behind you and stepping into the warm embrace of the shower. The hot water stings at first, then soothes you, sliding down your skin.

Jeongguk already knows the outcome of what he’s about to do isn’t going to turn in his favor, but he tries his luck regardless, standing up hastily and limply making his way to his bathroom door.

He only knocks twice, then puts on his best begging voice, talking loud enough to be heard over the shower, “Toots?”

“No!”

A scoff filters through the steamy air, followed by the unmistakable creak of the door handle as he steps inside. He’s relentless, voices his thoughts with the kind of logic only he would find convincing, “C’mon, we’ll save water!”

You stand with your back to him, his body wash traveling down your skin in soap bubbles, the scent filling the air, and you let your shoulders shrug. You don’t turn around. Number one, because you’ll give in. Number two, because you can hear the pout on his lips, and that’s the reason for number one.

You try your best to sound annoyed, “Jeongguk, just leave. You don’t even pay for it.”

“Our poor earth pays for it,” he quips, stepping further into the cramped space, body still bare, and that’s maybe a number three for you, “Because you wanna be so unfair to your best friend and leave him out in the cold.”

“You’re not my best friend.”

His gasp is dramatic, you even hear it echo through the tiny room, and you fight hard to contain the giggle locked inside you, but it escapes in the shape of a snort, which you quickly try to conceal by clearing your throat. You even further go with the lie, “You heard me.”

“Unbelievable. I’m kicking you out the second you’re done here,” he tries his best menacing tone, the threat barely harsh and effective, closing the door behind his back with an exaggerated thump, followed by unintelligible grumbling.

You take your sweet time in his now steamy bathroom. You shampoo twice, deliberately squeezing out a generous amount of his own fancy product in your palm, making sure the squeak of the bottle is heard through the door so he knows you’re helping yourself. His high-quality hair dryer blasts warm air over your damp hair until it’s only mildly wet. And you even rummage around his cabinet, indulging in his collection of expensive skincare creams. These little luxuries are exactly why you never pass a single occasion to shower over at his dorm room.

And the second you’re done in there, he doesn’t kick you out like he threatened. It takes a moment for him to move his attention from his phone to your figure, wrapped around in his fluffy robe, and he doesn’t even try to keep up the menacing act. Still spread on his ruined bed, his furrowed brows relax, and his lips break into a grin. He scans your face, then giggles, “You’ve got a massive pimple on your forehead.”

“Fuck you. I’m taking one of your hoodies.”

“It’s called borrowing,” even in the midst of checking out your freshly-washed naked body, now being stripped from his bathrobe, he’s still committed to the game of banter you two always play.

“It’s not if I’m not giving it back,” you counter, voice muffled by the fabric of one of his many black sweatshirts you’re already pulling over your head, quickly shuffling into your jeans, helping them up with some small hops that make him grin.

He doesn’t seem bothered by your comeback, too used to losing his own clothes to your closet; rather, he watches you move with what seems like hurry around his dimly lit room. He shifts higher, letting the sheets slip to reveal his still bare, and slightly sweaty torso, “Wanna hang out together at the party tomorrow?”

”Hmm, I’ll just see you there,” you don’t pay him much attention, using your phone camera as a mirror to wipe away any smudged mascara under your eyes. “I’ve already got a partner, actually.”

Jeongguk fully sits up now, vision a little blurry from the hasty and sudden movement, phone forgotten, “A partner?”

The way you casually let a smile tug at your lips while talking about a man is new, “Yeah. A guy from my English class asked me to go with him. He’s pretty cute.”

You’re too busy shoving your belongings in your bag and mentally cataloging every single item to notice the expression your best friend is currently sporting, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. Tank top, makeup, laptop… where the fuck is— oh, here. Lip balm. What else?

Jeongguk thinks you’re forgetting something deathly important. A fucking explanation, maybe? He’s known you to occasionally fool around with random guys, but he thought it was just that. Occasional and random. When did it get to having a partner? That sounds silly. Or maybe a little too formal, a little too real. What the fuck does having a partner even entail?

You’re blissfully unaware of the stubborn storm taking over Jeongguk’s thoughts, especially because you’re not exactly sparing him a second glance, moving with single-minded focus, hurrying to leave. Because apparently it’s so bad to want to spend the night with your best friend. Share a bed, watch a movie, talk gossip (it’s been so long since you’ve updated him the way only you can about the latest campus stories, ugh). Amazing, yes, that’s totally fine with Jeongguk.

And he does manage to sound unbothered, “What’s his name?”

“Namjoon.”

Jeongguk focuses on your slim fingers slipping your lip balm into the front pocket of your bag, syllabes leaving his lips in a slow mumble, “Ah, Namjoon. I know him. I guess.”

Fucking Kim Namjoon. Of course he knows him. 6 feet tall, polite, model student Kim Namjoon. Shit. Great choice. No, really, he’s the perfect catch.

“Hm? Well, I think he’s very nice. And hot as fuck.”

He grimaces, “Gross.”

“You’re one to talk,” pulling the hood over your head, you finally meet his eyes. You’re completely oblivious to the thoughts gnawing at him, so you think his disappointment is only caused by your next words, “I should get going now.”

“What? You’re not staying over for dinner?” The way he looks up at you with doe, puppy-dog eyes almost makes you trip on your own resolution, but you only ruffle his hair from your stance next to his bed, hoping the small action is enough to satisfy your hunger. Not for dinner.

“Nah, sorry Gguk. Gotta get up early for English class.”

He scoffs, moving stubbornly from your soothing touch, “Sure. English class with Joohyuk.”

“…Namjoon.”

“Right, that’s what I said. Namsun.”

You raise an eyebrow, half-laughing, “No, it’s Namjoon.”

“Namgi.”

“Namjoon.”

“Whatever, don’t care.” The words have barely any space to roll out through his pout, and along with his petty little slip-ups it’s the most childish act you’ve seen him pull so far. To be completely honest, he seems to break a new record every other day.

You fight the urge to roll your gaze at the ceiling, finding it impossible to deal with pouty, hungry and cuddle-starved Jeongguk. You sigh, muttering, “Insufferable.”

“Give me a kiss, brat.”

The teasing comes so naturally that for a second you don’t ponder on the demand being something a normal friend wouldn’t exactly ask. But it isn’t one you’ll deny.

You bend down to meet him as easily as he let the request out, muttering a playful Oh, I’m the brat now? before brushing his pushed lips with yours in a sweet, short kiss, enough to draw a soft sigh from both of you. You hum against it, voice warm with something that contradicts your words entirely, “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Sure,” rolling your eyes, you grant his cocky figure that little win, too tired to put up a fight, even if you almost rethink it when he confidently leans back against the pillows, smirking up at you. You decide to cut it short, it’s for the best, throwing your bag over your shoulder as well as one last look at him, before readying yourself for the walk of shame through his frat.

────୨ৎ────

Namjoon is, by all standards, the perfect guy. He’s genuine, smiles sweetly with his dimples showing and his eyes crinkling into crescents that make him seem both wise and youthful.

Careful, even protective over you, making sure you’re comfortable. With your drink, with your seat, with your conversation.

Almost too attentive, which should calm your nerves, but instead you feel yourself unable to fully let go. Open up to him like he’s doing with you, like you think you want to do.

You’re not sure. You can’t feel that mysterious spark everybody talks about. That spark Jeongguk admitted he’s never felt with anyone so far, no matter the number of girls he’s been with. The one he’s confessed he’s desperate to feel. The one you hope he can find.

Wait, why are you thinking about Jeongguk?

Said boy has yet to acknowledge you, standing across from you in the crowded living room of your mutual friend’s house. Each weekend, the same ritual brings you back here, whenever Taehyung’s parents head off for one of their rich-people, luxurious trips. The space is familiar, a backdrop to countless parties, all too often ending in someone’s drunken confessions and stolen kisses that’d become the talk of campus until the next party came around.

As tradition would want, with the clock ticking its way past midnight, you’d be drunk out of your mind already. Tonight, however, you’re not even sure you want to be here.

Namjoon is keeping close tabs on your drinks, monitoring each glass you reach for, and you know he means well; ordinarily, you’d find it sweet, endearing even. But it only seems to heighten your anxiety now. It just reminds you of how out of place this whole thing feels. You want to drown your awkwardness in a wave of liquid courage, and the irony isn’t lost on you: the very reason why you’re nervous is keeping you from numbing it.

Namjoon makes you way too aware of yourself. You wish your first proper hang out wasn’t at a filthy frat party, the blasting music causing you both to lean into each other to make conversation. The proximity makes your palms disgustingly clammy, and you hope he doesn’t reach for your hand.

You also think this isn’t the type of scenario that best suits Namjoon. You would have loved to be with him somewhere softer, with less noise and more light, talking over coffee instead of loud techno, his poetic speech lulling you into infatuation. Maybe then, this would have gone like you had imagined it might. Like you wanted it to go, just to prove something to yourself. You’re still not sure what exactly.

But this house — this party — is a natural habitat for people like Jeongguk. It’s a playground he navigates with ease, his charisma amplified by the darkened rooms and faint cigarette smoke that seems to follow him, just like everyone around him. They exist solely to orbit his mood.

It’s as he saunters back inside after yet another smoke break that you spot him again, his focus entirely on whatever girl is currently at his side. With Namjoon leaving to grab a drink for the two of you to share, you take the short moment to be a shameless creep and study your friend’s movements from the other side of the room.

You can’t help but feel a sting of irritation. Jeongguk is fully aware you’re here. You’d texted him earlier, just something casual to say you’d arrived, maybe even expecting him to meet you or give you a quick wave. Instead, there’d been no reply.

Just like the TikToks you’d sent last night, after you told him you wouldn’t be staying over at his, that also went ignored. You didn’t think too much of it, figured it was probably one of his petty acts. You aren’t any better: it’s not like you’ll go up to him to say hi, not after he ignored you. Those videos were funny, too. He’s the one missing out.

But now, your eyes squinted to try and get the best possible view on each detail of the scene in front of you, what you notice is nothing about him and everything about who he’s currently spending the time he could have used to acknowledge you with.

It’s not just whatever girl. It’s Haeun.

You haven’t seen them hanging out together in what feels like months, and frankly, you’re thrown. Maybe that’s also the reason why he suddenly had no time for you. You scoff.

You’re just confused, really. Jeongguk didn’t mention a thing about her, and it’s not like he’s ever kept his hookups or flings a secret. But Haeun was never just that. She was the one he seemed almost ready to get in his first serious relationship with, the one girl you thought could make him forget all about his usual habits.

When Jeongguk had first started hanging out with Haeun, he’d seemed uncharacteristically interested. You naturally found yourself rooting for him, hoping he’d take a leap and start something real after many failed attempts.

At that point, your casual arrangement with him had been going on for a while, but you knew it wasn’t built to last. You’d expected it to end sooner rather than later, and you were okay with that. You just wanted him to be happy with himself and his choices.

But on the night he was supposed to take Haeun out on a date, the one that could have changed everything, it’s like a magic vacuum turned on and sucked all his progress away. He’d shown up in front of your door instead. No explanations, no details about what had happened; he didn’t want to talk. He only wanted to be near you and sink into silence.

That night you laid next to him, his head on you, hair sprawled out on your stomach, and said absolutely nothing.

Since then, he hadn’t mentioned Haeun at all, and you’d assumed it was over. The right side of your brain was irrationally glad for that, greedily geeking at the prospect of still getting to keep Jeongguk close in ways that go over a simple friendship. In ways that have you thanking God for not taking your friend’s sex skills away from you; in ways that have your nose scrunching whenever he leaves small, delicate pecks on the side of your neck as you watch a movie cuddled in his embrace. If he had decided to go on that date, you would be denied all of this luxury.

The left side of your brain is a little less greedy, a little more rational. The half of your mind responsible for keeping some logic instilled in you even thought it could have been a good thing for Jeongguk to experience a different side of relationships.

You’ve always sensed there to be deeper reasons beneath Jeongguk’s carefree front. You’ve watched him jump from girl to girl, dip in and out of flings with seemingly no thought, as if he’s not trying to bury issues he should find a different answer for, to avoid whatever insecurities he’s run too far away from to face.

He’s never had to spell it out for you. You never pressed him on the topic either. And you think he’s grateful for it, for your silence that offers him the stability he won’t admit he needs, for simply staying and understanding. For allowing him to be vulnerable.

You wish you could give him more than that quiet comfort. Wonder if you should try your luck and push him to see that he does deserve something real— more than the distractions he uses to keep his fears at bay.

Jeongguk would make an incredible boyfriend. He always spots the small details, the slight changes in your mood, and he picks them up before you can even notice yourself, caring in a silent way that doesn't go unnoticed. Not by you.

It’s easy to imagine him being the kind of partner who’d cater to his girl’s needs effortlessly, even in quiet, even if hidden. You know he could be that person if he could just let anyone in beyond sex. When he’ll find the one, it’ll be clear it’s all he was made for.

Right now though, if anyone were to ask you that, you’d advise them to just go and look for another one, because he’s a little, lying piece of shit. You’re just a tad bit upset about it, if your crossed arms and furrowed brows are anything to go by.

You don’t understand why he’s now there, standing next to the girl he himself stood up, the one he looked ready to fix everything for, and then wasn’t. Leaning in close as if nothing had ever happened.

Why couldn’t he tell you, at least give you a heads-up if he was reconnecting with her? You know it shouldn’t bother you as much as it does, but the fact that he’s hiding it stings. Are you overthinking this?

When he lifts his head from her ear and scans the room, his eyes landing right on yours for a brief second just to look away, you don’t think you are. His attention shifts back to Haeun as if he hadn’t seen you at all. What the fuck?

You question what’s the point of having eyes to see when you are now forced to witness Jeongguk leaving the room with Haeun hanging her draggy weight on his arm, his smile cockish as he helps her up by her waist, fingers digging dangerously close to the curve of her perfectly shaped peach.

Their chemistry is undeniable, hands finding skin with unpracticed ease. It must be the way Jeongguk can effortlessly work his charm with any girl he deems attractive enough to fuck, his smirk and the way he lets his nose scrunch almost timidly, as if you can’t see right through him, making women potty in his sculpted hands.

The prospect of your best friend getting laid by the girl he was almost ready to change it all for should make you happy. Smile, at least.

Instead, you frown, mindlessly taking long sips from the straw in your glass and letting it stir your too watered-down cocktail that lacks any real flavor. You don’t even try to find answers as to how another drink landed right on the counter you rest your back on, but you’re glad for it.

You’re more upset at the fact that he decided not to tell you anything. You would have helped him through it, supported him, advised him on what to do, how to move in such a situation. But even if he didn’t need any of this, you would have appreciated just knowing. From him.

The ways in which the two of you are intertwined right at this moment don’t exactly allow him to completely leave you unaware of his actions. It’s not fair.

But then, are you even supposed to feel like this in the first place? Is only sex supposed to have this impact on you? Is even the smallest cell in his brain producing a thought that might take him back to you, and could it compare to a third of what you think and feel?

Does he not get that tingly sensation with you, ‘cause he’s used to it? ‘Cause you’re nothing too different nor special from all the choice he has laid at his feet, nothing out of the usual routine?

A gentle hand on your arm jolts you out of your thoughts. The touch is delicate, but the way it pulls you from your spiral is rough, making you stumble on the already wobbly stool you’re sitting on. When you look to your side, Namjoon meets you with a warm smile.

You hadn’t even noticed him being back next to you, and you figure that’s probably how that drink found its way in your hands. You’re a deer caught in headlights as you look at him, then down at the almost empty glass, then back at the boy. Your eyes widen impossibly more, and you struggle with finding a louder volume to your voice, almost fading with the music, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to finish this all by myself.”

You remember him saying he’d get a drink for the two of you to share before leaving you with your haunting thoughts. He just laughs in a way that should soothe your nerves, but it doesn’t, “It’s okay. You look like you needed it. I’m getting another one for me and catching up with some of my friends over there. I’ll be back in a bit, alright?”

“Yeah, totally. No problem,” your words roll out your tongue in a slurred hurry, face already turning to the opposite side of the room, and you’re not even sure what you’re agreeing on. You just feel Namjoon slip away from the seat next to yours again.

The brief interaction was enough for Jeongguk to have time to completely disappear from your strict observing, and just like the boy who should have had your undivided attention tonight, he equally slips away. From your vision, from the party. And from you. He’s with Haeun now, after all. And you’re alone.

Being truthful, Jeongguk is once again slipping away from his problems only. He doesn’t know how he ended up with Haeun by his side, but when he found your big, confused eyes in the midst of what should have been his escape for the night, he thinks he could name a few reasons.

It’s suffocating, the grip you have on him. He can almost feel one of your slim, delicate hands around his throat. He’s a dirty little sadist, of course he enjoys the pain. But he shouldn’t, so he runs from it until his back hits the wall, and the hold only gets tighter.

There’s nothing to do but face the truth. And you’re in front of him, eyes lost and inviting him to tell you. What should be easy for him to say, what he owes you. But the words get stuck in his throat, right where you’re pressing, and he feels like he might stop breathing.

He could die like this, with your narrowed orbs pitying him, and he badly wishes you would call him a coward. The hold is just enough to hurt him, not to make him lose his senses; if anything, it only makes his head spin around the one thought he wants to avoid. You.

With the quickest distraction he could get his hands on, he keeps adding to it: Haeun clinging to his side, he steps out the packed room to light the nth cigarette, the smoke clouding his vision and making the image of you fade from behind his eyelids. You release your hand from him and disappear. He almost whines. He misses you already. But the faint ache is a reminder.

Instead, in front of him is the only girl he should have truly avoided. Haeun is another reminder. Not because she looks similar to you, you’re way prettier. You’re beautiful.

No, it’s just because he remembers Haeun being his first victim, using her to bury something stronger growing inside him. But it didn’t work then, and it doesn’t work now.

She’s the only girl he tried his luck with to avoid his now unavoidable feelings for you. Then, he physically couldn’t touch another woman beside you. So he started flirting with more cigarettes and alcohol. Maybe some joints then and there.

Jeongguk would love to know why he prefers destroying himself rather than just be the confident man he lets everyone else think he is, go up to you and be honest, like you make it so easy for him to be. The fact that it almost slipped out of him more than a couple times scares him.

It shouldn’t. He wants to fall into that soothing caress, but could he even handle the possibility of you simply, and rightfully if you deemed it the correct choice, rejecting him?

The answer is no. He can’t afford losing your touch on him, your lashes fluttering when you look up at him, your fingers tracing secret maps on his back. He wonders if you’re outlining the safest ways for him to escape from the maze he himself created, of which he forgot the exit to.

With Haeun pressing herself to his side, he thinks he’d rather stay trapped there at this point. A maze built by lies, letting you believe he’s fucking other girls on the side when he feels sickened just by the thought of it, his hand now coming up to push the girl back to a safe distance. Built by insecurities, preferring having you think that you’re simply one of the many he has when he firmly believes you’re the only one that the universe has especially assigned him to.

It’s making him lose his mind, while you live unaware, free from the truth. He’s sure in the stretch that went from yesterday, when you told him about your fucking partner, and tonight, seeing you so close to said partner’s face, your dress custom-made by the hands of every angel populating heaven, Jeongguk developed some kind of clinical illness. The flame of jealousy in his toned tummy has eaten him whole.

And he feels slightly ashamed of himself knowing this is how he found himself circling back to his first poor attempt at running away from you, in the form of a short girl, her eyes now questioning him just like yours had done earlier. Haeun furrows her brows, “Are you seriously doing this again?”

Jeongguk sighs, glancing away to take a long drag from his cigarette that fills his lungs and almost aches. He avoids the eye contact that would be needed for a conversation like the one he’s forced to have — one that wouldn’t have occured in the first place if he could just be a normal person — instead he looks back to the room through the glass doors, “I’m sorry, Hae. I— I can’t do this—“

“Yo, Gguk. You need to come with me now. ___ is throwing up in the bathroom.”

It’s Taehyung sliding the glass door open with more force than what he usually puts, and right now nobody would tell he’s the same one always advising his friends to be delicate with it. The look on his face is panicked and it quickly reflects in Jeongguk’s eyes, flickering between his friend and Haeun.

Next, his reflexes are quicker. He steps inside the house, skipping past Taehyung and the flood of college students dancing their Friday away to Usher and seemingly not caring about the urgency written all over his expression.

He makes it to the bathroom where people have started to crowd around as if lining up to an unmissable show, and he doesn’t care if his pushes are too rough as he makes his way through.

You’re quite literally hugging the toilet, your face one with the lid as a few girls try and help you with your hair. The moment they see Jeongguk, it’s like they know he’s the one that you need, that he’s finally here and you’re in good hands. He shoots them a quick nod as they step aside and then, he’s immediately crouching next to you, gently gathering your long locks into his fist.

He moves some stray strands behind your ears while you keep letting it all out, and as much as his broad back is enough to hide you from watchful eyes, he can still hear murmurs from onlookers.

It’s as Jeongguk is debating whether he should cuss them out or keep his attention on you that Taehyung comes to promptly clear the crowd, closing the bathroom door behind him only after making sure his friend doesn’t need any more help.

Jeongguk appreciates the gesture, knowing how overwhelmed you can get in these scenarios with too many people around. Although, no matter how calm he appears for your sake, his heart races even as you seem to settle and sit on the tiled floor, your back resting against the cool wall.

You gulp down a few times, squeezing your eyes to try and ground yourself, the way you can feel Jeongguk’s hand hold the side of your leg, his thumb delicately brushing the inside of your thigh, definitely helping.

“Toots,” he whispers, face close to your own, “Hey, doll. You’re okay now, hm? What happened?” His voice is low, slow, almost scared of flowing past his lips.

When you open your eyes he’s directly in front of you, squatting down to stay on your level, and his brows are drawn high in worry.

You sniff, your voice still rough from the scratching on your throat, “Fucking— Jimin. I met him in the kitchen and we mixed too much shit together—“

“Weren’t you with Kim Namjoon?” Jeongguk interrupts you, both his tone and the way his eyebrows now dip inquisitive.

You shrug, looking down at your fingers fidgeting, “Dunno. Why the fuck am I still not sober,” the way you tone the question doesn’t make it sound like one, and you end up giggling at yourself, hiccuping in the process.

Jeongguk sighs, unconsciously tightening his hold around your leg, his fingers digging and making you whimper subtly. He notices, soothing the skin only to take both his hands to scoop you up by your armpits, lifting both your bodies on your feet.

You yelp, throwing your weight on him with another one of your senseless chuckles, looking up at his bothered face through your lashes. He straightens your posture with wide palms on your waist, throwing one of your arms around his shoulders and causing you to step out of the small room on your tiptoes. He grumbles, “I’m taking you back to the dorm now. And we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“Talk about what?”

“Namjoon.”

You stay quiet as the both of you, your body snug against his, walk through the party and out the house to reach Jeongguk’s car. Your thoughts are sluggish, failing to grasp why he’d even want to talk about Namjoon. Isn’t he just a nice guy? You’re more concerned with Jeongguk’s seemingly irked tone and the distressed way his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek.

A soft, involuntary whine escapes you when you think you might be the reason for that, shuffling yourself closer into his warmth, but the contact is brief as he gently settles you into the passenger seat and clicks the belt, then he closes your door and circles the car to the driver’s side.

Awkward. The only sound that can be heard is the soft hum of the engine, beside the fuzzy buzz in your ears. You feel laughter bubbling up in your chest but you hold it there, turning to study Jeongguk’s side profile. Inhaling, you start, “Can you— can I put on—”

“No.”

Your smile falters, “What? C’mon, give me the aux.”

“The last thing I want right now is to listen to those songs.”

Any previous tipsy instinct that made you want to laugh at the situation fade with his words and the way his grip on the steering wheel says more than what he’s letting on. You’re hazy, but his clenched jaw and laser focus on the road make you sit up straighter, adjusting your slouched posture and the skirt of your dress with it, pulling it further down your thighs.

The tension coming off him feels so heavy that it leads to irrational, childish tears pricking your eyes, and you sound defeated when you whisper, “Are you mad at me?”

He brakes a little too hard at the red light, and you both lurch slightly forward. Jeongguk seems to realize just now that he’s unfairly taking his anger out on you, and the way you let out the question in the smallest voice makes his heart speed up, turning to you with apprehension, “No, toots. No, why would I be? I’m mad at that fucker.”

“He was just talking with some of his—��

“He left you alone. He was supposed to take care of you. Not let you get fucking wasted.”

Jeongguk sounds final, his tone allowing no more condoning nor excuses for the tall guy now left behind you, back at the party. But you don’t seem to focus too much on the meaning of his words, rather you bask in the consequences of them. He’s not upset with you!

That spurs you to contradict him further, this time on the accusation he threw at you, but it’s less than credible when you say it through a sheepish smile that unconsciously made its way on your lips at the protective edge to his tone, “I’m not fucking wasted.”

Jeongguk only sighs, but you can see him visibly relax, shoulders going down and leaning against the back of his seat, right hand coming to pat your bare knee with a small smile on his pierced lips.

You share a look that fully sobers you up only to get you high all over again off his doe eyes, the artificial lights dotting a universe of their own in those orbs, undiscovered galaxies and planets inviting you to move there, even with no water, no oxygen, no way of surviving.

When the soft hue of the red light reflecting on the side of your face morphs to green, he moves his attention back on the road, taking his hand with it to shift gears. Then, he concedes, “Put on the playlist.”

You blink, a little taken aback by his sudden shift in mood, but just as quickly you recover. Your brain seems to be able to focus on one thing at a time either way, so you don’t ponder on your insides collectively moving at the way he looked at you and instead reach for the aux cord, fingers tapping on your phone screen absentmindedly, with a conscience of their own.

Music interrupts the quiet, and you can’t help but join, “The night we met I knew I, needed you so. And if I had the chance I’d, never let you go. Sing with me!”

Jeongguk breaks into a grin, no matter how much he fights it, “You’re so fucking wasted.”

“So won’t you say you love me? I’ll make you so proud of me. We’ll make ‘em turn their heads every place we go, so won’t you please,” Be My Baby by The Ronettes fills the previous silent tension, which you seemingly already forgot everything about, using Jeongguk’s free hand as your own personal microphone, folding it in a fist between your palms.

Jeongguk would never say it out loud, especially now, after he only pretended he had to be begged to put it on, that he’s actually grown attached to this playlist. Started as a little mishap and turned into something that got under his skin, much like you have.

Its creation came about from a comically embarrassing moment that gave you ammunition to tease him for weeks. Although, he’s glad for it when he reflects deep enough: the whole episode helped shape the bond between you two, adding to its foundation.

He still doesn’t know how you managed to slip so sneakily into his dorm that evening, but what’s sure is that he wasn’t expecting you, taking the time of his life in his bathroom, fresh out of the shower. Simply following his usual routine, one that you wouldn’t have exactly considered usual since you only ever knew him as an avid Drake listener, he hummed along to Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling in Love flowing softly from his phone speaker.

It wasn’t just that, of course, because then he started styling his wet hair in an exaggerated pompadour and fully got into character, strutting dramatic poses in front of the mirror and even practicing Elvis’s iconic curl of the lip. If his soul was by any chance watching over the scene, you’d hoped he’d agree with you that Jeongguk was truly giving Austin Butler a run for his money.

The private show sadly ended when he caught sight of you in the foggy glass, your lips sealed shut to try and hold your delighted laughter, but it got ripped out of you in the form of an obnoxious snort the moment his eyes went wide in horror and his face crimson in shame.

It was hell for a few weeks after that. You didn’t let him off so easily, teasing him for being a secret softie with a love for old-school romance under all the layers of his tough fuckboy image that only ever seemed to handle trappy beats.

When you jokingly suggested he might as well get fully into the act and start calling you toots or something, he didn’t back down from the tease, scoffing at you with narrowed eyes. Somewhere along the way, the dry, sardonic tone with which he first used that pet name on you stuck, and it became less of a joke, more of an endearing way to refer to you, and only you.

Before either of you could second-guess it, the playlist was born. You two crafted it together in fits of laughter and late-night texts, with Jeongguk suggesting songs from his secret stash and you contributing the ones you grew up on.

It quickly became the soundtrack to many of your aimless car rides, something that neither of you acknowledged outright but silently cherished. Sometimes, you’d get so carried away and slip into the roles of a ‘60s couple, playfully reciting cheesy lines back and forth.

No matter how much Jeongguk pretends he hates it to save what’s left of his bad boy reputation, he really doesn’t. Not even a little bit. Even the way he rolls his eyes and groans isn’t enough to hide the spark in his eyes when you sing along.

He feels worse than a pubescent teenager when he lets his guard slip to hear you hum words he can only imagine are just for him, meant in the way he wants. You swing side by side and smile up at him with dimples digging long slits into your cheeks, and he has to act as if it makes him feel completely normal and not like he’s going to crash his car any second.

Each lyric that spills from your mouth feels like it’s tying him down, even with your sweet voice a little unsteady, thanks to whatever is still left from the night’s drinks. You’re so not aware of what it does to him.

Your eyes are on the road, but Jeongguk’s linger on you, his fingers unconsciously tapping the steering wheel to the tune.

“I’d save every day like a treasure, and then, again, I would spend them with you.”

Jeongguk purposefully veers off onto streets he doesn’t need to take, buying himself a few extra minutes with you, but you don’t notice and he pretends to not know either. Would never admit it’s because he wants to hear you sing a little more, and that this ongoing joke between the two of you might be his favorite thing in the whole world.

“But there never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do once you find them. Hold on, this one’s a little lower. I’ll find my note, wait,” you’re mostly talking to yourself, cheek pressed to the cool glass of the window, but you glance at Jeongguk as if seeking for approval, clearing your throat, “I’ve looked around enough to know that you’re the one I want to go through time with.”

Just as Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce fades out, Jeongguk pulls into the campus parking lot, turning the engine off and cutting the music with it. None of you move right away, accepting the stillness in the car.

You don’t accept the silence, though, letting your mind speak a thought that has been nagging at you, “Can you fuck me here? Right now?”

The way you voice the request would make anybody who didn’t understand English think you’d just asked for something as mundane as a glass of water, your eyes unfaltering, a small smile on your waiting lips, voice barely slicing through the quiet. It’s almost as if you don’t know it’s the kind of thing that could derail Jeongguk’s entire thought process.

Jeongguk lightly chokes on his own breath, giving a few coughs before turning to you, his tattooed hand messing his hair further, “Jesus Christ, ___. You know I can’t.”

You tilt your head, considering him, as if this is a serious debate rather than drunken rambling, “Why not?”

Jeongguk can only sigh. He takes in your disheveled state and notices the way your exposed skin prickles with the cold, reaching for the leather jacket he carelessly threw on the backseats before heading to the party, having had no idea you’d be the one wearing it by the end of the night.

He wraps it gently around your shoulders, moving sticky, stray strands of hair from your face, “You’re so drunk. Look at you.”

“I told you I’m not,” you protest weakly, but your confidence falters when his fingers ghost over your face.

“There’s vomit in your hair,” he shuts you bluntly, tone softer than the honest words.

“Oh,” your stubbornness doesn’t work this time, and you’re mortified as you glance down at your lap, where his fingers fall to mindlessly play with the zip of his bomber jacket, brushing your tummy in the process. Your voice doesn’t sound so sure now, especially when each subtle graze sends small shocks through you, “That’s disgusting.”

The soft chuckle he lets out has you stealing a look upward, and when you catch his expression your slowed down brain can only come to the conclusion that maybe he doesn’t find you all that disgusting: he sports a rare, wide curve of his bunny smile, eyes crinkling when that same fondness finds its way onto your lips. You can’t help what they do next, a mind of their own as you rest them on his own mouth, the tip of his nose tickling your cheek.

It’s the faintest of kisses, and it’s delicate, fleeting, over far too soon, but you’re the one to pull back first no matter how much longer you need it to be, “That was probably disgusting too.”

As you rest your back on the seat again, his eyes are still closed, and they flutter open as slowly as a smile stretches on his mouth when he meets you. You’re giving him a look he doesn’t deserve, one he shouldn’t lean into.

His voice is a whisper, and it fans over your face, still close to his, “Not at all.”

Gleaming eyes scan every angle of you, as if trying to find anything that’ll hold him back from what he really wants to do. But, of course, his need only grows when he lets his gaze wander down, then up again.

He glances to the side with a gulp, moving his body back to reach for the car door handle, “You think you can walk or should I carry you?”

“Carry me, please,” you mumble, not even pondering on the first option, and the moment the sound leaves your lips he’s out and reaching for your side, opening your door and scooping you up like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The walk to his dorm is a blur, with you dozing off in his warmth and being lulled by the hums escaping him and reverberating through his chest, melodies of the earlier songs playing against your ear.

You regain awareness when a splash of warm water cascades over your now naked body, the sensation startling enough to make your lashes flutter against your damp cheeks. The water runs over your face, washing away the remnants of the night, the drowsy yet oddly light sensation taking over you causing a giggle to echo against the walls.

You’re still too disoriented to process the tenderness with which Jeongguk’s hand moves, brushing through your soaked strands of hair and moving them from where they flattened on your face, combing through the sticky locks.

With half-open eyes, you’re met with the sight of him in front of you, standing close enough without needing to step into the small space with you, his brows furrowed as he works the shampoo through your hair. It’s a soothing, slow motion, the one he massages your scalp with, and it only melts you further into sweet slumber.

If it weren’t for one of his hands resting tightly on your hip, grounding you as the scent of the shampoo mingles with the steam curling around you, you would have gladly swayed into his palm, letting your weak body fall into his strong one.

You sniff, leaning into his care, voice small and oddly sincere, “I’m sorry for,” hiccup, “taking you away from Haeun. You two seem close again.”

Jeongguk stills for a moment, his fingers pausing in your hair before resuming their soft motions. He pretends he didn’t hear, and you pretend you never talked in the first place when he guides you to steady yourself as your knees wobble, “Hey, stand still. You’ll get shampoo in your eyes. Close them.”

You obey, letting your eyelids drop shut as you feel his hand gently tilt your head under the spray, his touch as tender as the words he isn’t saying.

If you weren’t a victim of both sleepiness and alcohol at this very moment, your thoughts would be racing each other like eager contenders in the Overthinker Marathon, each one fighting tooth and nail for the gold medal. They’d be dissecting every little detail of the night— the way Jeongguk had ignored you, his lingering hand on Haeun’s waist, only to be there the second you needed him, the girl from earlier not even worth mentioning.

Instead, your every thinking cell has taken a rare vacation, lounging together on an imaginary green field, clinking glasses filled with leftover cocktails from earlier, lazily watching clouds drift by.

Although there’s one cell in particular, too tipsy to sit still. It hops around gleefully, urging your lips to move before the Thinking Cell General can intervene. The way it jumps up and down, up and down, makes you giggle as you blurt out, “I don’t know if it’s the water, but I’m very wet.”

The silence that follows is thick, punctuated only by the sound of water cascading down your back. Jeongguk freezes as if the words have physically reached out and yanked him into stunned stillness. He can only let his throat bob in a visible swallow and look away, warning you in a strained mutter, “___. This is your last warning. Stop teasing me.”

You whine, pathetically wiggling your weak and pliant body in his hold to seek for some kind of reaction, but he doesn’t budge. He’s uncharacteristically focused on his tasks, ensuring every trace of shampoo rinses from your hair, rather than your hardened nipples bouncing with your stubborn movements.

But you recognise the way his jaw clenches so tight it must hurt, how he refuses to let his gaze wander lower where the steam of water outlines your form. His restraint is razor-thin, yet he holds it tightly, breathing only slightly uneven.

You’re not deterred by his warning; you never are. It’s the tiny tracks in his resolve that keep you pressing forward, voice laced with a vulnerability that makes his hand twitch against your scalp, “Just… I just need your fingers. Please.”

Jeongguk exhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he angles the spray to wash the last suds away, hyper-focused on the practical task as though it’s a lifeline to his dwindling self-control.

But you’re persistent. You reach behind you, fingers messily finding the knob to twist the water off, and with the spray halting you’re left only with the hum of the bathroom fan and the faint drip of water.

Your other hand finds his, guiding his wide palm to rest on your lower stomach, just above where your want is written in every inch of your body. You whisper, plead clear in your tone, ”You know I want this. Won’t ever regret it. I’m conscious enough to be sure of that.”

Jeongguk huffs, his chest rising and falling as he stares down at you, fingers flexing slightly against your skin. He closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply as if accepting defeat. He can’t win this battle.

The brown-haired boy steps into the shower, the small space shrinking even further with the addition of his broader frame, forcing you to back up against the wall. Fully dressed, water clings to his fabric, and the contrast of his damp clothes against your bare, exposed skin makes you irrationally wetter.

Jeongguk keeps silent, and at this point you don’t care how desperate you look, pushing yourself against him and getting his clothes wetter in the process. It pushes him to initiate a torturous path along your skin, using his middle finger to trace a journey from your chest, savoring the way your breath hitches, down to your warm core.

The droplets of water he collects on the way are used to spread your puffy lips and press right on your sensitive nub, making you gasp. You’re a trembling mess from the simple motion, and he has to use his free hand to steady you against the wall.

Your breasts aren’t left without being taken care of, because the moment he begins circling motions on your clit that have you seeing stars, he lowers his head to envelop one of your tits in his ravenous mouth, teeth teasing it punitively, all while looking up at you with sliced, sinful eyes.

He’s greedy, and you can’t believe he managed to hide it so well until now. But his resolve crumbles the more he revels in the way you fall apart for him, and he loses control on your chest. The sensation is sharp, delicious, and the contrast between the harshness of his bite and the softness of his tongue has you whimpering.

You’re ashamedly aware of how close you already are, his digits picking a fast speed that urges you to let go and coat him in your juices. He knows, simply from the way you let your mouth fall agape and release loud moans in the steamy air, pushing your nipples further in his swollen lips.

When he inserts one finger in your warm hole, you jolt in his secure hold, eyebrows shot upwards in the shock of your sudden orgasm, one that hits you all too harshly. It drags on deliciously, Jeongguk never wanting it to end, the slurping sound of his sucking on your tits making your surrounding spin, along with his thumb accompanying the way his single digits thrusts into you.

He only stops when you unconsciously run from his doings, slim hand wrapping weakly around his wrist, and he retreats with one last wet stripe along the curve of your boob, promptly collecting your taste from his fingers, and he thoroughly hums around them, eyes closed and cheeks hollowed.

You think you could come again from the sight alone. Panting, you smile through your ragged breaths, “Fuck. Thanks.”

Five minutes later, no one would bet you’re the same girl that begged him for his fingers and came in record time around them. Now, you sit serenely on the toilet lid, wrapped up in Jeongguk’s warmest hoodie. The oversized fabric swallows your frame, knees tucked under it as you hug them close to your chest. You look as innocent as ever.

Jeongguk stands in front of you, meticulously brushing through your damp hair with practiced gentleness, each stroke of the comb a soothing lullaby. You rest your chin lazily on your folded arms, eyes closed, the edges of sleep blurring your thoughts.

You let out a contented sigh before murmuring, words unfiltered, “You’d make the perfect boyfriend. You always take care of me. And kiss me when I need it.”

The motions of the brush stop for a fraction of a second before resuming, and what you hear next is Jeongguk’s throat clearing, his voice low and almost shaky, “That sounds so very wrong, toots.”

“What do you mean?” You don’t open your eyes as you ask the question, the warmth of his presence and the excuse of the last traces of alcohol still flowing in your tired body making you bolder than usual.

“You want me to be your boyfriend?”

“In another life, maybe. Yes,” you don’t waste time replying, words carrying a dreamy quality, “I mean, would be cool.”

“Cool?” He chuckles, but it’s the kind that’s half-exasperation and half-something else entirely, voice strained with an edge of desperation too, “God, I don’t even know why I’m still putting up with you.”

You only nuzzle closer into the borrowed hoodie, giving voice to your next thought, your thinking cells now hosting a 60s themed party, “Be my, be my baby. My one and only baby.”

The sound of your singing fades under the whirring roar of the hairdryer, and Jeongguk is quietly thankful for the way it drowns your sweet hums completely, fearing if he hears another one of those tipsy love confessions leaving your lips he might drop to his knees, undone by something he knows he can’t claim.

You rest your head against his stomach, full weight leaning on his standing figure, his long digits pulling through your strands. If you’d look up at your best friend for even one fleeting second, you’d probably laugh at the concentration on his expression, his only goal drying your hair enough to not have you waking up with a headache the following day.

You sniffle and snuggle impossibly closer to him, the heat radiating from his tummy and the white noise lulling you further into drowsiness, every careful motion of his hand coaxing you closer to sleep.

When your phone pings from the bathroom counter, the sudden buzz makes you jolt slightly. You lift your head sluggishly and gesture toward the phone, mouthing up to Jeongguk, “Pass it.”

He hands it to you without turning off the hairdryer, keeping an eye on your sleepy movements. You blink at the bright light for a moment before your expression shifts, eyes widening.

You’re completely jolted awake at the only notification on your home screen: it's Namjoon.

You tap Jeongguk’s stomach with the heel of your hand— softly at first, then with increasing urgency. The repeated motion forces him to stop the device and place it on the counter as he looks down at you, trying to peek at the screen, “What?”

You hiccup and sniff before blurting out, “Namjoon. He texted me”

The boy that was just now carefully drying your hair scoffs, arms crossed over his chest, “What does that asshole want?”

The response to the rhetorical question doesn’t come, either because you decide to ignore it purposefully or unconsciously: you look totally engulfed by the words on your otherwise empty chat with Namjoon, and Jeongguk can’t help but subtly lean his body lower to read the same texts you’re going through.

Kim Namjoon [4:26 a.m.]: Hey. Sorry for texting late, I heard from someone you threw up back at the party. I’m so sorry. I completely lost sight of you in that mess. Are you feeling any better? Very sorry again.

Kim Namjoon [4:27 a.m.]: It’s totally okay if you don’t want to hear from me again. But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to make it up to you.

Kim Namjoon [4:27 a.m.]: I’d really like to take you out on a date. Would you let me?

Jeongguk kisses his teeth irkedly, “Why the fuck does he text like Prince William? Fucking English major,” and he truly tried his best to sound unaffected, but the words leave his mouth before he even knows he’s thinking of them.

Luckily, you don’t seem to notice, reading the message aloud like you can’t quite believe it yourself, “He said he’d like to go on a date with me. Like, he asked me on a date. And said he would like it. To go on a date—”

“Yes, we got it.”

“He doesn’t hate me, Gguk!” Once again, his petty comments go unnoticed as your face lights up, eyes crinkling with joy as you practically beam up at him.

Jeongguk wants to be annoyed, but he simply can’t when he’s met with all the stars in the universe right in your glossy, tired eyes. He swallows hard and forces a soft chuckle, “No, he doesn’t, toots. Anyone would be crazy to hate you.”

The grin on your lips only widens, nose scrunching adorably as you let your cheek sheepishly brush against your shoulder, “Oh my god, Gguk. I’m going on a date with him! Heh.”

“That’s nice,” he says, picking up the hairdryer again before your words can settle too heavily in the space between you. “I’m not finished with your hair, though. Stay still.”

The device roars to life once more, its noise filling the room and covering your excited giggles. Jeongguk keeps brushing through your hair with steady motions, his face impassive, but he feels something tighten, heavy and unyielding in his chest.

He tells himself the noise is a blessing, a shield from the silence he wouldn’t know how else to fill—or from the sound of his own voice, betraying him in ways he can’t afford.

────୨ৎ────

“I’ll miss the sex when Namjoon will ask me to be his girlfriend.”

In the quiet of the library, your sudden whisper startles Jeongguk. The chair screeches under him and it gains the both of you a few annoyed looks. He nods in apology at their way, moving closer to the table again, and he has to blink a few times before he can even meet your eyes. The scattered pens all over the white surface looked more interesting either way.

“When he— his— what?” He feels pathetic for being unable to even form a senseful sentence, but there’s no absolute way he blames his brain for that. It’s his heart, stuttering along with the barely intelligible question.

It cracks at the middle the more your grin splits your face in half, nose scrunching adorably, and he may be a horrible friend but he can’t bring himself to return your irony, nor the masked excitement under it.

If he were handed pen and paper and asked to write about how he feels right at this moment, he wouldn’t put down a single thing. Not because there isn’t anything to say. He fears your innocent teasing has done something catastrophic, snapping that one damned string that connected his brain to his heart, and the two aren’t communicating. Jeongguk is in the middle of two angered parents, fighting and on the brink of divorce. That’s what he gets for being a total pussy.

You shrug, frowning slightly when all you’re faced with is his blank expression, eyes unresponsive and detachedly looking elsewhere, but you keep yours on him, studying even the small movements, “I mean, he’s a nice guy. I think he’s serious about getting to know me.”

The word serious causes an involuntary twitch of his head, tilting almost imperceptibly to the side, and he sounds way too defensive, “And are you?”

Furrowing your eyebrows at his unexpected reaction, you return to your previous mindless doodling, keeping your voice low, “Well, he’s cute. Let’s see where this thing goes.”

“What about me?”

The question catches the both of you off guard. Your pencil halts as you glance at him through the corner of your eye, and even if you can’t see him clearly, the way his dark orbs widen is almost comical that you would laugh in any other situation. But now, the air is oddly tense and it makes your nose scrunch in awkwardness.

He breaks it with a chuckle, a subtle tremor in it that luckily goes unnoticed by you but that will probably keep him up at night for the next five years, and he lightly shoves your shoulder in an effort at feigning ease, “You really wanna pass on this dick?”

“God, you’re gross,” the annoyed roll of your eyes has Jeongguk releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding; it’s odd, but that’s just who he is.

The second you return to weightless banter, he’s back in his element. He can smirk, tease and deflect— these are tools he’s mastered over the months. But the thought of stripping naked for your eyes to see, and not in the sexual way you two engage in almost every night, terrifies him.

The waters are safe for what seems a fraction of a second before you pull him down in the deep, dark seas again, this dynamic between you foreign. While it is a simple, innocent question, your deceptive tone triggers unfamiliarity within him, “Besides, how’s it going with you and Haeun?”

“Huh? Oh. Haeun, yes,” his attempt at buying himself extra time is laughable, especially when Mr. Brain is now yelling at Ms. Heart for always wanting to get in the way of things he can handle alone, “Wonderfully. We— She— Huh, kissed me.”

Ms. Heart is furious. She has no other choice but to reach in her purse and slap the divorce papers on the dinner table, the glasses clinking against the plates, and Jeongguk flinches. Brain is speechless, clueless on how to react.

You only seem slightly taken aback, eyebrows raising in mild surprise, “Really? That’s nice.”

Jeongguk is equally clueless, subtly squeezing his eyes shut as if hoping to wake up somewhere else entirely, maybe in an ideal world where Kim Namjoon doesn’t exist and Mr. Brain and Ms. Heart are happily married.

Instead, he’s still in the library, and you’re still sitting next to him, scribbling on your English textbook. He frowns, getting pitiably lost in the view of your side profile, “Yeah, nice. Huh, when’s your date?”

When you glance up at him, you seem to be realizing just how odd it is for the two of you to spend this much time talking about your respective hook ups, and you cringe slightly at the unusual formality, wishing Jeongguk would just tease you like he usually does when you tell him about your untruthful and made up sexual adventures.

You purse your lips in thought, “Tomorrow, actually.”

“Oh. He’s going fast.”

“I like that.”

“I know you do.”

No matter the effort you put into trying to hide your amusement, a snort escapes you, and you quickly look away to recover from the childish grin spreading on your lips. You shake your head, closing the book in front of you, “You’re fucking disgusting.”

Jeongguk only smirks in an oddly proud way, nodding at your flustered state when he realizes he successfully managed yet again to shift the conversation from topics he doesn’t want to hear or talk about. He shrugs, “You just said that.”

“And I’ll say it again.”

“Whatever,” a small chuckle follows the dismissal, his hand coming to brush through his fluffy hair, getting too long for his liking, “I really wanted to see you tomorrow.”

Once again, Jeongguk is way too honest, way too easily. Ms. Heart is marching hastily with Mr. Brain walking close behind, trying to make sense of the situation and pushing her to reconsider her actions, but it’s no use: she’s tired, and sick of being walked over, again and again.

He doesn’t like the underlying meaning behind that, and wishes Mr. Brain would grow a pair and just swoon her back into love again. Jeongguk doesn’t like the genuine surprise etched across your face either, or, well, he doesn’t like the effect it has on him: it’s almost unbearable to accept that the blush dusting your cheeks, the one you’re probably unaware of, is caused by his unfiltered honesty. Because sincere bluntness isn’t exactly something he tries to show. Then, why does it spill out of him uncontrollably? Why— why do you look so beautiful like this?

“Hm,” your smile is small, but your dimple betrays it, Jeongguk’s whole resolve cracking with the way you sound dangerously decisive, “Too bad. You’re late.”

Jeongguk shouldn’t overthink this. You’re simply engaging in the usual dynamic, teasing him like always, no reason for his palms to sweat. He shouldn’t panic over the way nothing about what you said feels simple, nor usual, and your tone carries more than what you both want the words to mean.

He doesn’t know if it’s a warning or a test—or worse, the truth. Maybe he’s imagining it. Maybe Brain just misinterpreted the comment, too distracted by its constant squabble with Heart, both of them ignoring Jeongguk, who is still sitting at the cluttered kitchen table with his plate half-full, surrounded by a mess of inky emotions he doesn’t have the courage to clean up.

The sound of forks clinking against plates grates against his ears, drowning out the hurried excuses spilling from your mouth, the ones you’re babbling and making up along the way of gathering your things and standing up from the round table, shouldering your bag in the same hurry you left his room with before the next time he saw you was nose to nose with Namjoon.

You huff, giving a small, tight lipped smile that should be meaningless, but to Jeongguk it isn’t, “I’ll go now. See you around?”

“Huh, sure. Let me know how it goes with Namsun.”

You roll your eyes at the playful attempt, his grin just as empty, “Right. Bye Gguk.”

You’re off the hallway before he can add anything else. Not that he would have been able to. Your bag swings with your big steps, slim hands coming to absently tug your plaid skirt lower, and Jeongguk thinks and thinks.

He realizes he really doesn’t want to know how your little date goes. Would rather shoot himself rather than hearing you talk about another guy taking you out to dinner, stealing you from him and sealing the end to whatever the two of you have.

His options are narrowed. He either commits in front of you and forever changes the trajectory of your life or does something about Namjoon. But why does the option of ending his life sound much easier than stepping up to big, buff Namjoon, infatuated with the same girl he likes?

Oh.

The admission jolts him. It’s a physical reaction that causes his chair to shriek again under his movements, but this time he’s not polite enough to apologize for it. He must look crazy, wide eyes burning holes into his hands planted steadily on the table in front of him.

The girl he likes. You’re the girl he likes.

And every signal is there. The spark he sought for now lights a nervous feeling in his stomach, its fireworks interrupting Brain and Heart’s incessant arguing.

Does he look stupid not doing anything for the girl he likes? Not fighting for the girl he’s been falling for all this time?

────୨ৎ────

It should be easy. It is easy.

Jeongguk can’t let the sleepless night spent reciting lines to his ceiling go to waste. He’s sure not even theater kids could match his determination. And as he marches across campus toward the gym, where the squeak of sneakers and the echo of grunts will lead him to the person needed to put the plan into action, he reviews step by step what he’s told himself to do. It’s a well-rehearsed script, each word, every calculated expression—he’s gone over it a hundred times, accounting for every reaction.

Step one, be casual. Friendly, even. Approach Namjoon like there’s nothing calculated about this interaction—no ulterior motives, no scheme brewing beneath the surface. Just a casual catch-up between two guys.

“What’s up, Kim,” when Jeongguk spots the slightly taller boy exercising at a steady walking pace on the treadmill, he immediately hops onto the free one beside him.

Namjoon startles slightly, then smiles with those stupid, charming dimples of his, and it’s one that Jeongguk would probably only give if forced, “Hey, Jeongguk. Long time no see.”

The brown-haired boy nods, setting the speed and quickly catching up to Namjoon. He keeps his tone deliberately cool, even borderline disinterested, “You been good?”

On his left, your almost-boyfriend shrugs, jogging along, “Yeah, just studying, man. What about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” he hasn’t cracked open a book in weeks, and that study session from yesterday was just an excuse to be with you. But he can’t afford to let his thoughts linger on you too long or he’ll lose focus. He needs focus. “You catch that last game?”

Step two, pretend to care about what Namjoon is saying and then proceed with the acting skills only to suddenly remember something totally random he wanted to mention.

“Fuck, don’t remind me. I was so sure we would win,” the sweating man sounds way too affected by the recent football match, and Jeongguk fears if he asks one more question for the sake of pretending he’ll never get to the actual point.

So, he goes straight to it, “Yeah, it was rough. Oh, by the way. You know ___, right?”

The simple mention of your name causes a small stutter in Namjoon’s step, but he recovers with the stupid smile from earlier, only this time it’s wider, “Of course I know her. Why do you ask?”

Step three, just be honest. He just has to lay it all out. Be straightforward. Tell him the truth about how he’s felt for so long and what this whole thing with you is doing to him. It’s not a confrontation—it’s a conversation. Jeongguk will politely explain that he’s liked you for a while now, that he’s been in your life long before Namjoon, and, as a courtesy, he’d appreciate it if he would step back from pursuing you.

Civil. Calm. Totally chill. There’s absolutely nothing to get worked up over.

"You really don't know? Have no idea?" Jeongguk asks, his voice dropping, tone more pointed than he intended.

Namjoon slows his treadmill slightly, glancing over with furrowed brows and a faintly amused smile. “No, man. Enlighten me.”

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.”

What. The. Fuck.

That wasn’t the plan. Not even close to the plan.

────୨ৎ────

You feel stupid.

Wrapped around in your warmest coat, you still shiver. It could be the way your legs are exposed under your wool dress, high black boots reaching just beneath your knees. But there’s something else to the chill, making you shake in fading jitters. The excitement of the evening you told yourself you were looking forward to morphs into anxiety, and the passing looks of people mean more than they should as minutes tick and tick; they seem to glance at you for too long, their looks heavy with what you can only imagine is judgment.

A young girl swaddled in small but striking details from head to toe — delicate earrings that catch the light, a scarf knotted perfectly at the neck, polished nails clutching the strap of an expensive-looking bag, hair done up in a neat slicked bun — glancing nervously at her surroundings can only mean one thing: she’s been stood up.

Namjoon was supposed to meet you in front of the cozy cafè just outside the campus, its warm tones and surely even warmer ambience so very inviting. Maybe you’d go in, order a steaming hot chocolate for yourself, and chalk this up as a lesson learned. But instead, you chose to wait outside, shifting on your tiptoes every so often, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of the first man to ask you out in what felt like ages.

You feel as though you’ll be forever destined to wait more when thirty minutes go by and Namjoon is nowhere to be seen.

You frown, swaying on your heels. What you feel is not disappointment— not at first. But that only causes you to feel worse about yourself when you realize you’re almost relieved the tall man hasn’t shown up, and he’s not here to turn fears into even scarier realities. The date would have given a concrete meaning to your actions, and the thought stirs something not exactly pleasant within you.

The scratch at the back of your mind grows harder to ignore, and no matter how much you try to shake it off, your subconscious finds ways back to it when your hand instinctively dives into the depths of the expensive purse you had specially chosen for this occasion. A purse meant to complement your carefully selected dark ensemble— an effort that now feels entirely wasted. You spent so much time getting ready for something you’re not ready for at all.

Pulling out your phone, your thumb scrolls to Jeongguk’s number with a natural automatism, typing before you even register why he’s the first person you feel the need to tell.

You [9:39 p.m.]: hi

You [9:39 p.m.]: namjoon stood me up lol

The typing bubbles appear faster than you anticipated, and as you watch them dance across the screen, you burrow deeper into the fragile warmth of your jacket, the tip of your nose numb from the cold.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:40 p.m.]: Whattttttt????

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:40 p.m.]: He’s such an asshooooooole

Your first instinct is to snort at his reaction, a childish grin tugging at your lips, but it turns into a scowl when the more you reread the text, the more it sounds weird. He usually never texts like a six-year-old using his mom’s iPad.

You [9:40 p.m.]: yes he is

You [9:40 p.m.]: why are u textin so weird btw lol

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:41 p.m.]: Wym weirddd

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:41 p.m.]: I’m totally normal

You [9:41 p.m.]: wtv

You [9:42 p.m.]: u still wanna hang out?

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Yes please

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Want me to pick u up

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Where are u rn

The head tilt is unconscious, but you feel it click in place. You’ve mentioned how Jeongguk is caring, how he can read your needs like no one else and caters to them quietly, but he’s never this pliant, this malleable. You like him because it’s hard to get him to bend (and you’d rather die than let Jeongguk know about this).

You [9:43 p.m.]: is ok

You [9:43 p.m.]: i’ll just walk

You [9:43 p.m.]: be there in 10

The walk usually takes you less than 10 minutes, but before meeting him, you decide to head back to your dorm and change out of these stupid fancy clothes you picked out for the date.

You keep your head low as you walk through the hallways, the full glam you put on impossible to miss as it sparkles under the fluorescent lights, just as your boots' heels echo through the corridors.

Taking off the dress and heels feels like peeling away the embarrassment of rejection, the weight of disappointment settling in as you realize you couldn’t prove to yourself that you could do it, that you can do it, take the leap and let something serious into your life.

You question whether you're even cut out for it when the guy who seemed perfect ended up proving the opposite.

Now, back in more comfortable clothes — Jeongguk's black hoodie from the other day and baggy sweatpants — you feel a little more like yourself. Scared of emotions, scared of commitment, no matter how many hours of your day are spent daydreaming about it.

The second you click the door of your room open, it’s like you can smell a weird shift in the air. And you do, literally sniff, scanning your surroundings for any hint of something burning or out of place.

But it’s not about the dorm in its physical state, no— it’s the odd silence that you’re met with, the people you’re used to sharing the space with now uncharacteristically careful with their volume.

“Oh my god, ___,” that is probably why you’re visibly startled by the sudden voice coming from your side, Iseul looking like containing excitement is the hardest task she’s ever been asked to deal with, just like the few other girls behind her, all practically vibrating, “You’re finally here.”

You furrow your brows, chuckling confusedly at the unusuality of it all— well, it’s not like you don’t get along with these people. It’s just that you’ve never gone over meaningless jokes and talks about the state of the dorm, plus you’ve never exactly been the center of attention like this. It feels off, and it reflects in your uncertain tone, “I am?”

“I’m so happy for you,” Binna chimes in next, grabbing your shoulders with way more enthusiasm than the level of your relationship with her would normally allow, and the way all of their heads nod along that it feels like a coordinated performance is starting to scare you.

“You’re… happy for—”

“I’ve always known you and Jeongguk were perfect for each other,” the affection dripping from Binna’s voice sickens you, maybe even more than the words she’s speaking.

Huh?

You swear you feel your heart skip a long beat before you mask it with an obnoxious, nervous laugh, only growing more when none of them crack a smile or react, “Me and— okay, is this a fucking joke?”

“C’mon, ___,” Iseul says, her sweet voice doing nothing to calm your tension, and if anything it only heightens it, “You don’t need to hide anymore, Jeongguk told Namjoon that you’re his girlfriend.”

Oh. So this must be a fucking joke.

And you can’t stand it.

You barely manage to shake off their relentless curiosity, the entire dorm suddenly buzzing with an interest in you after years of peaceful and civil indifference, and it only overwhelms you to the brim.

Fury boils in your chest as you step out of the building, the cold air failing to cool the anger that flares up within you. With every step, your frustration grows, and you hastily type on your phone as you make your way toward the one person that’s responsible for your temper.

You [10:07 p.m.]: what the actual fuck jeongguk

The response comes so quickly, almost as if he were waiting for you to type it, and you scoff in disbelief. In that moment, you feel a twisted sense of understanding with serial killers. It makes you question how much control you actually have over yourself.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:07 p.m.]: What’s up?

You [10:07 p.m.]: why’s the whole dorm asking me how's it like to be your gf?

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:08 p.m.]: Eeehhhh???

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:08 p.m.]: That’s so weird

You’re actually gonna fuck this man up.

You [10:09 p.m.]: jeon jeongguk.

You [10:09 p.m.]: they’re saying you told namjoon i’m your girlfriend.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:09 p.m.]: Don’t use my full name and the period please 🥺

You [10:10 p.m.]: i’ll fucking kill you.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:10 p.m.]: You’re so hot when you’re like this

You [10:10 p.m.]: shut the hell up.

The banging on his door comes shortly after, and Jeongguk doesn’t even flinch. He knows it’s you, and frankly he was even expecting your arrival to be louder, hit him a little harder than it does. And when he lets you in, you storm in his space with no room for oxygen, door closing behind you but unable to contain the volume of your rage private.

“Can you explain why the whole campus thinks we’re dating? ‘Cause you’re not my boyfriend, and I’m not your girlfriend, and this is not fucking funny.”

But Jeongguk evidently does find it funny, chuckling under his hand coming to cover his mouth while the other one lifts to show you the bright screen of his cracked phone, “Really? The uni Instagram page is shipping us.”

“Shipping us?” You snatch the device from his hands, eyes widening as you scroll through the amount of stories posted in the last hour, everyone and their mother feeling entitled to weigh in on your nonexistent relationship. You whine, a hand resting at your forehead in disbelief, “Oh my god, this is ridiculous.”

“What, are you ashamed of me?” Jeongguk asks casually, walking back and sitting on the bed with a soft thud, his whole demeanor relaxed with a nonchalance that makes your left eye twitch.

You scoff, unwilling to grasp how this is even an actual thing happening to you, tossing the phone back at him, “A little bit, yeah. You think this is a fucking joke, huh? I’m now apparently dating the uni’s most popular fuckboy.”

The damned boy in front of you leans on his forearms, pouting just for show, “Hey, that’s mean. I’m no fuckboy.”

Bag thrown to the ground with a violence that it does not deserve, you start pacing back and forth in his room, letting out a borderline insane laugh, not knowing whether to scream or cry, “Yes, you are. You went through every single girl in this building.”

“Do you really think of me like that?”

The sudden sincerity that you think you spot in his tone makes you halt your steps, body turning to him as he sits straight again, his head tilting slightly.

You sigh, frustration mounting, and you throw your head back at the ceiling for any signal from the universe that this is indeed a joke, a bad, huge joke on you, “Jeongguk. Please.”

Silence fills the room next, but it doesn’t make it any easier to think nor does it quite register in your brain, mind racing with jumbled and chaotic thoughts, barely coming through as coherent words, getting intertwined with one another.

But the more you walk from one side of the room to the other, the more you’re almost able to untangle the mess, just enough to start processing what’s happening.

Then, a nuclear bomb wipes it all out, Jeongguk’s words the missile, his quiet tone the explosion, “I don’t want you to see nobody else.”

“What the fuck?”

The aftermath of the destruction is not only loud, ears ringing with a shrieking alarm going off, your figure stiff with shock, but you feel its heat burning your whole body in consuming flames that threaten to swallow you whole if you don’t let them take over, rise, flood every nerve until all you can feel is the rage boiling in your veins when you practically scream at him, ”What the hell does that even mean? You're being selfish!”

“Am I?” Jeongguk asks calm, calculated, gaze locked on yours as if daring you to challenge him further. His tone is maddeningly measured even as he pushes himself off the bed and closes the distance between you.

It’s like he’s planned this— attack after attack designed to destabilize you completely. Not only did he thrust you into the spotlight without warning, claiming you for the whole campus to see as if you’re worth nothing more than a stupid prank and a few laughs.

But now he talks with a grace that belies the chaos he’s stirred, as if his words are just another fact, something as simple as the weather, “I haven’t been seeing anybody since this summer. Since we started using no condom.”

Your pupils tremble with something far more complex than just anger, though you refuse to give it a name. He’s practically towering over you, his stance purposeful, making you feel small; as if the intensity of his gaze is not enough that it makes you falter, as if the humiliation he’s putting you through isn’t either. Head shaking, your voice does too, “That’s— not true. You’re a fucking liar. You— What about Haeun?

“Nothing even happened with her.”

The speed of his denial sets you off, an incredulous scoff breaking free as you roll your tongue against the inside of your cheek—a habit you’d picked up from witnessing his easy tempers, “Then why did you tell me you kissed?”

“Because—” Jeongguk hesitates, and the pause is so out of character that it almost gives you whiplash. The boy who always has something to say suddenly seems unsure. His hand flexes at his side, a nervous tick you hadn’t noticed before, and he exhales as if the words are fighting their way out of him, “‘Cause— I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Your voice cracks on the word, a laugh bubbling out of you that’s sharp and fractured, borderline unhinged. It cuts through the room like broken glass, and his expression tightens, jaw clenching. But he doesn’t interrupt.

“Jealous,” you repeat, louder this time, your incredulous tone thick with rage. “You’re telling me you made up that bullshit because you were jealous?”

He doesn’t respond, and it pushes you closer to your limit, on the verge of exploding. You don’t know how you find it within you, but with a long exhale and a quick prayer up at the ceiling, you meet his gaze in an almost patronizing manner, “Jeongguk, we are not exclusive. I thought that was well implied. You don’t get to act like this. You don’t get to be jealous.”

Nodding along to your words, Jeongguk’s brows draw together, his expression somewhere between anxious and defensive. There’s something in his eyes, something close to fear, but fear of what, you can’t quite place.

When he speaks, his voice is softer than yours, as though he’s trying to keep it from breaking, “I know. We both agreed to that, yes. We’re both allowed to see other people.”

The words feel rehearsed, like he’s repeated them to himself a hundred times. But with the silence stretching, it’s clear he’s struggling to say more. His lips press together briefly, and his gaze flicks to yours, searching. It’s as though he’s waiting — no, hoping — you’ll interject, offer something to fill the space.

You don’t. You hold firm, tilting your head slightly, your confusion evident. Your wide, questioning eyes, so big, so honest, pull the truth from him in a way you don’t intend, and he exhales like it’s been forced out of him.

“But I don’t want you to.”

The sheer audacity of his words hits you like a slap, the kind that stings more because of its unexpectedness. You snort, although there’s nothing particularly amusing about your heart cracking at the middle, but you manage to keep it from resounding in your words, "That’s so fucking mean. Do you even hear yourself? You get to fuck whoever you want, and I’m kept hostage? And now—now everybody thinks we’re dating!"

"That’s good," he says, simple, unflinching.

You blink, disbelief coursing through you as your lips part in a strangled gasp. "What?" The word is half a whisper, half a shout, and it escapes before you can temper it, "You’re so selfish. I fucking hate you.”

The emotion is foreign from what you’re used to showing him, softness in quiet ways, affection in silent gestures. But now, it’s all loud rage, the opposite of love spilling out of you in volatile waves. Your hands curl into fists at your sides, itching for release, something, anything to make him feel the way you’re being forced to feel, to cut through the weight of his seemingly impassive expression showing only the barest twitch in his brows, a crack too small to satisfy your anger.

It isn’t enough. You need more.

Your palms find his chest, shoving him with the force of every burning feeling inside you. “You’re stupid,” you spit, watching him take the push without exactly budging, like he’s made of stone. It only stokes your frustration further, your hands pushing again, harder this time. “And dumb.”

Jeongguk doesn’t step back, doesn’t fight you. He stands there, his chest steady, absorbing your hits without a word. His lack of resistance only makes the storm inside you rage harder, and the tears you’ve been holding back threaten to spill over.

You scramble for more, anything to turn the reality of what you truly feel into the illusion of anger, “And— and— Why the fuck are you silent! Say something!” You aim another punch at his chest, but it’s impossibly weaker, the exhaustion showing in your useless attempts at getting at him.

You sniff, and you know you lost against his indifference, your voice wavering feeling like a confession you didn’t mean to make. “Asshole. You’re being so mean. You’re making me cry.”

That’s what finally breaks him. Only the tears slipping rapidly from your eyes get his resolve to crumble. His hands are on you instantly, gripping your shoulders gently but firmly, refusing to let you squirm away. You slap at them weakly, but his touch is steady, his fingers brushing strands of hair from your face, cupping your chin to tilt it up toward him.

“Toots, no. Hey, hey,” he whispers, his tone soft in a way that disarms you completely. His thumb swipes at a stray tear, but your face turns away, evading him like it’s your only line of defense. He doesn’t back down, “Stop crying. Hey, look at me. Will you?”

“Stop calling me that!” You finally snap, jerking your face away again. The tears are spilling faster now, no matter how much you want to fight them, no matter how much you want to cling to the fury. “I hate you. You’re fucking all the girls in this college, and I’m only fucking you, because— because—”

“God,” Jeongguk groans, exasperation dripping from his tone. You’re about to hurl another half-formed insult or maybe even take a swing at him again, aiming low, but his next words stop you cold.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” His tone is quieter now, more deliberate, the vulnerability in it cutting sharper than anything else he’s said. “I like you. I broke the rule.”

You’re sure your heart will fail you today. It misses at least four beats, and it steals the oxygen from your lungs, along with the color from your face.

You stammer, eyes widening as your pulse picks up again and pounds in your ears. “Don’t—don’t say shit like that. I swear to God, I’ll actually fuck you up. Stop—lying to me.”

“What the fuck, ___? I’m not lying to you,” Jeongguk’s voice attempts to be steady but it can’t hide the desperation, as if he’s holding on by a thread. “Why would I?”

The question is simple.

Why would Jeongguk lie to you? Does he have a reason to fake this?

The world seems to tilt, the ground beneath you shifting in some irreparable way.

You should feel scared. You should feel repulsed at the thought of commitment, the weight of his words pressing against you like a cage. But you don’t.

Instead, your eyes dart between his, searching for cracks in his sincerity, like a frantic spectator watching a tennis match, every glance like a volley in the game of something bigger than either of you. The matchpoint sends a thrill through your chest, something overwhelming and terrifying but not unwelcome.

Jeongguk watches you closely, feeling the weight of the silence between you stretch on longer than he can handle. He knows he’s the one that should break it, knows the truth he’s holding inside has to be spoken now.

It’s now or never. He can’t keep pretending—this isn’t just some casual thing to him, and he’s not ready to let it slip away without a fight. You’ve become everything he didn’t know he needed, and yet here he is, paralyzed by the fear of rejection, of being vulnerable, of watching the one thing he wants most slip right through his fingers.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? If he doesn’t speak up now, he’ll lose everything. His fear has no place in this moment anymore.

It’s a long exhale before his voice drops in soft honey, shaking with the weight of the truth, “Look. I know it’s hard to trust me. You’ve seen me fuck up multiple times over this stuff. But I want to stop this cycle. I want to allow myself something good,” his eyes search for any signal that he should stop talking, but in yours he finds every reason for him not to, “And you’re everything good that life will ever concede me. I can't… I can't let you go. I can't lose you.”

"Jeongguk…" His name slips from your lips like a prayer you've been too afraid to speak aloud until now. But you see it— he’s ready to find every solution, even if it means confronting the fear that has held him back for so long.

“I like you so much it’s killing me,” he admits, voice low and raw, every syllable cracking with vulnerability.

It’s a slow realization, like a tide that comes in quietly, softly. You’ve felt its caress for so long, and now that it embraces you wholly, you feel your heart expand, filling with the same warmth, the same longing.

The words you wish you could say are caught in your throat. You look up at him, eyes wide, trying to comprehend, to take in what he’s offering. You’re almost afraid to ask, as if the answer will shatter something you’ve worked so hard to protect, “You like me?”

“I lose my fucking mind when it comes to you.” His confession is a rush of honesty that sweeps through you, his eyes not leaving yours, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks.

The world feels like it’s slowing down. There’s so much you’ve been holding back, but you don’t know how to make the words fit, how to make them sound right.

Jeongguk takes a small step back, his voice quieter but still heavy with emotion. “It’s okay if you wanna end it here,” he murmurs, his words barely above a whisper, like he’s bracing for the worst. “At least it wasn’t because you got with some other stupid guy.”

You shake your head, the thought of losing him too painful to bear. “Stop—” You let out a frustrated sigh, hands curling into fists at your sides. “God, you’re so dumb. This could have been so much easier if you’d told me sooner.”

He looks at you, confusion flickering across his face. “What do you mean?”

You feel your chest tighten, the truth slipping out before you can stop it. “I like you too,” you admit, the words finally leaving your lips hastly, like they were just waiting for the right moment. “I agreed to the date because I thought you were still… fucking around.”

His face softens, and there’s a flash of relief in his eyes. “I wasn’t. Haven’t been in so long.”

“...No Haeun?”

“Hell no. I don’t want no kiss if it isn’t from you.”

You laugh, a low sound that fills the air between you. “Cheesy fucker,” you tease, but there’s a warmth in your chest now, a feeling you can’t ignore. “Well, if you want to know, I wasn’t seeing anybody either. Namjoon asked me out randomly, but I haven’t been with anyone else since… this started.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, everything is quiet. He looks at you like he’s just heard something he never expected to hear. “Oh,” he says softly.

“Yeah.”

Jeongguk steps closer to you, his hands reaching for you, voice thick, “I’m so sorry, baby. I never meant to make you cry. It’s breaking my heart.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, gently wiping away the remnants of the tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your heart swelling with both regret and tenderness. “It’s okay,” you say softly. “I’m sorry for yelling all that stuff at you. I don’t hate you. I…”

Before you can finish, his lips crash against yours, and all the confusion, all the fears, prove themselves to be worth this moment.

They dissolve into something real, the kiss trying to make up for lost time, for all the things left unsaid.

When you pull away, your foreheads resting together, Jeongguk’s voice is quiet but determined. “Come here, baby. You’re mine.”

“Prove it.”

[screampied]

‘ DICKMATIZED !? ★

☆ sum. dick • matized. [dehk-mah-tized] verb. when he’s rearranging your guts oh-so good that you’re just left utterly dumb ‘n stupid! toji, sukuna, gojo, geto, nanami, choso, ino.

wc. 5.8k

warnings. fem! reader, dick-drunk reader, balls… cum … balls, pwp, unprotected, dumbification, tf! sukuna, feral pússydrunk men, implied multiple rounds, backshots, mating press, cowgirl, nerd! nanami - college au, pússy talk, size kink, first time squīrt, mirror sēx, cervix mentions, spīt, tummy bulges, ‘till the bed breaks, breedīng kink, spanks, petnames.

an. elaborating more from this ask :p

✩ ˛˚ . SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

his dick? literally life-altering. life changing.

not only was sukuna ryomen the king of curses, but he was also the king of dumbing you down with just a few deep vulgar strokes. “attaaaa girl,” he’d grumble—one hand gripping your hip, another clawing near the top crown of your head. but as he’s raising your head, all you see is your dumb, drooling reflection through his stained century-old mirror.

through murky hazed peripherals, you spotted sukuna’s sly grin, with fangs poking through each lip… sinister red eyes zeroing down your body. he was mean but his hips were even meaner. as his hips relentlessly bucked into you, you let out a shrilling shriek once you feel his bulging tip swab its away around the insides of your slobbering cunt. he reached each ‘n every spot, pinpointing every slick dribbling orifice and you could barely even formulate words let alone proper sentences.

“that’s it, look at y’rself,” and a puddle of drool waters past the corners of your lips once sukuna grabs your chin. “hah- look at how dumb you get,” and you let off a moan once sukuna starts to thoroughly punctuate each individual thrust against your aching core. “allll. because. of. me.”

you glance at yourself in the mirror once more, peeking at the notoriously cursed silhouette that’s stood directly behind you. sukuna’s unapologetically ruthless, driving such sharp hips into you with little to no mercy and you only wanted more.

“suh- ooooh! sukuna,” you moan, getting whiplash from the vicious sharp pounds of slamming-ridden flesh. each pap stung against your skin and you’re just trying to keep up with his crazed pace. once his angered cockhead bullies its way near the fluttering opening of your cervix though, your eyes prettily roll. “o- oh my god, r- right th-”

“yeaaah, i know,” he replies gruffly, cutting off your tone by placing an enlarged palm over your wet-glossed lips. followed by a cute muffled, ‘mmmpf’ he scoffs in disgust once he feels you damping the center of his hand with treacly saliva. “keh. how repulsive,” and you whine once sukuna makes your back arch even more against his velveteen-made sheets. trailing a whetted claw gently down the slope of your back, he grunts. “wonder who’s nastier. you—” and he pauses, surprising your cunt with a brutal ricocheting thrust. “—or this sloppy worthless pussy. hnnnm.”

you’re tremoring underneath him, heedlessly trying to count each loud slap of clashing bodies in your head but you end up losing count anyway. his cock’s just as mean as he was, but his girth was far more rude. sukuna ploddingly runs his nails down your spine as he’s just impaling his weighty dick inside of your clamping, sopping walls. “mng- ‘s fuckin’ good. ‘kuna fuck me, fuck m—mmph,” and you moan against a palm that now smacks over your mouth again.

you could hear sukuna scoff behind you, feeling the wetness of your tongue slither its way around his bare hand. “y’er a nasty one,” he groans, glancing at your stupid reflection in the mirror. it was almost cute—how your eyes were all hooded, barely even open but visibly crossed. you’re seeing galaxies of stars as he pounds into your pussy, invading his way past the tight tight ring of your entrance. you’re so wet that your cunt sobs on his length, creating sticky globs of slick that glue against both fleshy mounds. “mhm. keep that pretty mouth shut. all i wanna hear is how fuckin’ messy you get under here,” and you let off another muffled whine once sukuna spreads your knobbly thighs further apart.

he’s so fast, his speed’s as quick as lightening—

and your hand cups over the one that’s currently placed over your mouth. sukuna feels your saliva starting to spill between your lips, wetting down his wrist and he titters. “spit’s supposed to stay in your mouth, dumb girl,” and you could feel yourself reaching closer and closer toward your blissful orgasmic edge. fuck- it was right there, literally arms-reach away and you were already starting to short-circuit. your thighs struggled to stay open and you were sure—just one more single hard thrust and you’d probably break. “aw, your legs are gettin’ weak. tappin’ out, princess?”

“ ‘kuna, ‘m cummin’,” you’d blurt once he removed his hand from your slick mouth. strings of glowy drool depart from your lips, sticking against his fingers before he thrashes the swollen pink head of his cock against your pussy.

repeatedly, it’s not just once or twice—hell, not even thrice!

it’s dozens of times. you let off a plethora of sweetened whines as his reddened tip scrapes its way through your gummy walls before you abruptly squall. “f- fuuuuck!”

a pretty, shiny geyser sprays out between your thighs, and your expression is priceless.

sukuna remained inside as he watched you whine out those needy raw sobs with his shaft still stuffed inside. you couldn’t think straight—you could only taste the treacly sweet tang of your release on your buds as your head flops onto the bed. “o- oh my god,” you’d puff, feeling your wobbly thighs soak with slimy molasses of your sweet. “again,” you moan out, looking up at the mirror to see sukuna staring straight at you.

he’s amused - and your eyes widen once he brings a hand underneath his heavy cock that was stacked with not only one but two..

he was only fucking you with one of his shafts—but now that you see his barred hand wrapping around both, you gulp once he nips his sharp fangs near his teeth. “fine,” he grumbles, and sukuna starts to align each between your sappy opening. sooo wet- it’s a pearly coat that runs down your cunt and he growls under his breath, bedaubing both creamy tips against your tender folds.

“but while we’re at it, little one. let’s see if you can squirt with two of me in you.”

✩ ˛˚ . INO TAKUMA.

first time inside and not only does he make you dumb but he ends up making himself dumb too.

“holy . . shit angel,” ino would lowly moan, reclining fully back against the couch. you’re gradually hovering over his lap while he’s got a clammy hand sneakily creeping at the left side of your waist. “g- god,” and darkened eyes lazer near your cunt. you were so slick. your entrance prettily sobbed with such dewdrops of sap that it had him whipped. ino wanted more, and the more he witnessed your pussy swallow his cock, the more his mouth grew drier than the sahara.

“relaaax, baby,” you invade the corner of his mouth with wet kisses. your voice was as smooth as silk, perfectly churned like butter ‘n dripping with such warmth. the sound of your voice alone was enough to make ino’s dick throb — and it did.

his abs tense through his white tank as he feels one of your palms leisurely slide up his sculptured v-line. your touch - it was one of his many, many weaknesses. his first weakness being you . . second, your pretty dripping pussy. “ah, look at me. eyes up here, ino.”

“mhm-” ino grunts, nearly melting at the sickly sweet pounds of flesh clashing amongst each other. once your body started to move, it was game over. slosh after slosh and it only gets louder. ino’s nose cutely wrinkles the second he hears that squelching ‘pop!’

now, he’s bottomed out and it was just a few lengthy seconds after he’d eased himself all the way in. ino was snug - nicely snug and timid heart-filled irises meets yours right away. “you’re s…so gorgeous,” he’d slur, watching his chest deflate at each sloppy thrust of your unsteady hips. “m- might just cum from lookin’ at your face, angel.”

fuck- you rolled your hips in such a way that it had gears turning in his empty, hollow brain.

ino’s flushed, and eventually, two hands grip your waist tightly. he’s trying to reel you into him but you playfully give him a shove, staring as his back collapses back into the pillow. “ngh- ino, there baby. there,” you’d weep out in a sweet whimper. his dick greedily explored through your insides like a maze. almost like it was lost - desperately trying to find its way around before eventually smooching near your cervix. “a- ah!” you’d moan, feeling a vein that ran down his cock throb inside you merely milliseconds later.

the movements of your rutting hips hypnotize ino.

you’re tossing them around in a circle as your arms throw over his broad shoulders. the entire time, he’s getting lost in your eyes. his tip’s an angry red, blushing inside of your tight gripping walls as you sloppily bounce on his lap. perspiring hands squeeze against your waist before you watch as his dark mousy brows crease into a furrow. “baby-” he grunts hoarsely, tilting his head fully back.

it’s cute—and a bit attractive. you spot his neck muscles tense before you suddenly feel ino’s impatient fingers crawl at the pretty curvature of your ass. with a firm grip, he grabs a nice handful of your jerking flesh before hissing under his breath. “o- oh fuck, ‘m gonna cum. keep ridin’ me, ride me good—use me, fuh- fuck me,” and ino’s voice pitched whinier the more your wet cunt sucks him in - vacuuming each ‘n every inch.

the noises were just sloppy. each ‘plop!’ and ‘pap!’ that echo from both bodies sends a wave of chills down ino’s spine. it was a feeling he’s never experienced—and you might have just made him fall in love with not only you but your slickly, wet cunt.

“ ‘s okay, ino. you can c- cum inside,” you whisper breathlessly against the crook of his neck. ino wraps his arms around you, holding you close as your hips rut into him quicker. both bodies moved against each other rhythmically, dexterously twirling your ass back and forth against his lap. ino’s just as dumb as you were—and if you squinted, you could see heart eyes forming in his dilated pupils.

“god- ‘m cummin’ . . fuck- ‘m cumming,” he hiccups, and his entire body erupts.

ino grows limp the minute he feels his leaking tip spurting out rope after rope. it’s hot - you slow down as he’s finally pumping you full, spurting out such thin, miry amounts.

ribbons drizzle inside of you and ino gets quiet, burying his face into your shoulder. babbles of whine fall into the crack of your neck and you smile, skimming a finger down his undercut.

tender, fawn eyes lock onto yours before ino grabs your chin softly. with a pout, he bedaubs a thumb across your wetly parted lips before sighing. he’s in love. “s-soooo . . what are we?”

✩ ˛˚ . TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“awwwh, is the pretty girl gettin’ shy on me?” toji would gruffly croon, feeling your dripping cunt clench tightly around him.

you’re bent over and chewing on the bottom of your lip like candy whilst he’s going in and out of you. masses ‘n wads of milky knots ooze out of your pussy and he takes a moment to gawk at the mess he gifted you. “fuuuck- look at ‘er, ‘m floodin’ her up so good,” and toji grunts, his flushed tip smearing shapes around your runny entrance. “ya take it well every time too, baby.”

“hnng- toji,” you’d whimper, cutely trying to shimmy your hips against him. you always loathed how right after he’s dumping you with the nth load of the night, toji just has to tease you.

with a wide hand, he slaps his fat cockhead against your slobbering slit three times. in a dirty, carnal way though—it’s pretty.

with wrinkles creasing underneath his leafy eyes as he squints, toji drags a thumb down your swollen puffy folds. it’s a loud wet splat! that resounds through his perked ears and you could hear that smug snicker as clear as day. your tummy was already heaving - you wanted more, and toji hummed at the sight of you arching further for him. “don’t stop- f…finish fuckin’ me.”

“how cuuute,” he’d gruff, and you moan once he re-aligns his sweltering hot tip. it’s freshly coated with splotches of cum that was still gradually seeping from the center. messily, it leaks out, and you gasp once he starts to insert his way back in. it’s a sloppy pop! that sends you carnal chills and even a bit of throb. doing so makes you nip a few teeth near the inside of your cheek.

and oh- toji’s so thick.

he’s fat from the inside, along with his girth that delves deep inside of you - disappearing between your folds like an unrevealed magic trick.

every bulky inch that enters inside of your cunt makes your toes shrivel up into a cute, aching curl. every time, you’re left utterly speechless as you hear his husky rasps from behind you. toji runs a hand through his oily scalp before brusquely grunting. “hah- take it then, open nice ‘n wide for me, pretty. let’s see that biiiig stretch one more fuckin’ time,” and a cold sweat races down your back. one thrust! just one cruel, mouth-watering thrust, and you’re left stupid.

dewy remnants of cum streamed out the corners of your thighs and he was practically fucking his cum back into you. loads of it, creamy milky loads that pumped you full, keepin’ you warm—always.

the slanted hooking curve that his dick had swerved its way through your pussy, bruising your g-spot lovingly. but oh- toji doesn’t just fuck nasty, he fucks you stupid with a capital ‘S’.

“fuuuuck, right there, r- right hng- thereeee,” and the way you’d drag your words were so cute. toji’s hips were oh-so mean though, harshly snapping into you and each time the friction whams into you—you’re dumbfounded.

toji spots you trying to crawl away and he raises a brow, hooking a hand near your hip. “goin’ somewhere, girl?” and you moaned, feeling him drag you right back toward his cock. with your mouth idly hung open—you start to feel the slick muck of syrupy juices that globs down the flaps of your cunt. you’re soaked, and toji grunts the second you end up squeezing around his dick. measly thick fingers roam through his scalp as he watches your ass weakly buck back into him. “mhm- that’s it, park that pussy allll on me,” and he leans up close against your back.

you could feel his faded bushy happy trail tickle against your ass as he’s drilling into you deep, splaying your legs further apart with a single hand. toji wraps a hand around your throat, feeling every whiny syllable die out of your throat before he lifts your hips.

“such pretty hips. look at ‘em go,” and you moan, feeling his palm hit against your left ass cheek. it’s sharp, and the brief sting makes you get dumber whilst his mushroomy tip’s just tapping its way against your tender clit.

you’re at a loss for words—the lazy downward curve of toji’s cock runs all through you, and he feels your body underneath him cutely growing weak. he’s got the type of dick that makes you get a bit woozy, drooling for more and more inches until you’re stuffed to capacity. you were through, and toji’s just sternly slamming his hips into you so good that you don’t even hear the poor splitting wood of the headboard.

with a husky crack! it ends up splitting into two, falling right before your eyes and the boxspring ends up collapsing. toji doesn’t even flinch though, and his callused fingertips remain deep into the prints of your back. “heh. shit,” he mumbles, still buried inside of your puffed cunt.

you were still panting - heavily, but you crane your head around to a certain degree and glare at him.

“what? oh, don’t look at me like that, doll,” and you moan, facing back in front of you once he pulls out, smacking his cream-coated tip over your weeping sleek-covered cunt. “ ‘s her fault. isn’t that right, messy baby?” as you’re whimpering, toji grows mute at the sounds of your sloppy squelches.

his round tip smears itself in and out between your slobbering hole before he nods as if he actually understands what your pussy’s saying. “see. she even said sorry,” and toji leans down, spitting right on your cunt before giving it a praising pat.

“good giiiirl. seems like ya got more manners than y’r messy owner.”

✩ ˛˚ . SATORU GOJO.

“ahhh- don’t hide that gorgeous face, i wanna see ya,” satoru pouts, grabbing your hands.

you were utterly stupid, whimpering as you continued to mindlessly bounce on his lap. his shaft’s ridiculously thick, expanding throughout your walls like a domain whilst attacking your cervix with individual kisses.

it scratched an itch in your brain that makes you gasp—feeling his bare washboard abs rub against your back. satoru’s hot, but the sweltering pounds of flesh that smack and crash into his meaty thighs from your unpredictable movements were even hotter.

he leans right up against the left side of your cheek, pressing a wet chaste kiss near the corner of your twitching lip. “i wanna see my wifey get all dumb ‘n stupid while she’s ridin’ me, heh.”

“ngh- satoru,” you’d moan, feeling one of his hands sneak up your blouse. lanky fingers roam up your body as he’s mercilessly slamming you back down on his cock. satoru’s flushing capped tip swirls its way through your cunt, churning effortlessly rearranging your guts and your jaw dramatically drops.

it’s cute the way your mouth freely dangles, pink tongue lolling fully out as satoru presses a hand near your bare tummy. there, he could feel the ongoing stretch and so could you.

it’s a tiny bulge that wholly prints its way through you, and you could hear his breathy snicker air against your earlobe. “well look at that. such a pretty good girl takin’ allllll of me. look at that cute ‘lil tummy bulge,” and satoru runs a free hand through his hair. with tight clenched abs, his entire core was squeezing up—your moving hips had him gnawing the inside of his cheek.

but it’s a long deadly silence between the two of you that suddenly occurs. satoru’s icy bright eyes shine into yours as you cup his face, weakly trying to keep up your grinding.

timidly, satoru strokes your bottom lip gingerly. “keep starin’ at me like that ‘n i might get’cha pregnant, sweetheart.”

“do it.” you whine. “make me p… pregnant, ‘toru.”

famous last words,

because not only does he fuck you stupid until you’re chewing on your own sweet, pathetic whimpers—satoru ends up dumping load after load into you. buttery wads of cum tear their way out of your folds as he’s now got you folded in a nasty mating press.

satoru overflowed your cunt, panting heavily as he watches the hefty, velvety masses of cum ooze down between your stuffed entrance.

with a single hand, he spreads your legs wide to get a better view and he kisses his teeth. “fuck- what a mess,” he’d groan, and he’s still deeply inside of you. your brain was empty — and all you could even register let alone think about, was the ropes of hot cum that flooded deep into your womb.

you’re still moaning, feeling satoru’s hungry gaze peer into your soul before he snickers. “would be a shame if this all hah- went to waste.”

and as he’s still trying to catch shallow breaths, satoru leisurely wipes a thumb down your leaking pussy. immediately, his digit gets coated with milky remnants of cum. “s- satoru,” you’d whimper, watching as he pressed a soft kiss to your ankle. you remained in the same position—

he had your legs spread wide into an eagle ‘v’ shape before bringing his finger up to his naturally glossed lips. satoru laps up his own mess right off his thumb whilst his cock’s plugging you utmost full. “you’re s- so nasty.”

“not nastier than this sweet girl,” satoru whispers in a raspy tone, taking out his dick before watching as his cum freely pours between your folds. velvety loads and loads sob between your folds and he hums, leaning in for a quick kiss.

satoru rocks his toned body against you, pinning both arms above your head before a hand placed on your tummy. you moan into his lips—wrapping a feeble leg around his slim waist before his free hand grabs at your neglected tits.

“mmp-” he muffled between kisses, feeling your hand trail a path down his sculptured abs. satoru presses his forehead against yours—devastatingly pulling away before whispering against your lips.

“got a feelin’ it’s gonna . . be a girl.”

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO.

“fun fact sweets,” nanami grunts as a bare palm wraps around your throat. his grip was soft - the mere opposite of his accurately shaped thrusts.

your moans harmonically sing and bounce through the thin walls of his office as labored breaths continue to snatch out from the pits of your lungs. he’s big, easily allowing the bulbous head of his cock to run through every part of your gummy walls. he nudges through every corner, pounding into your core so good that it makes you choke on inaudible sentences. “we’re burnin’ about probably hundreds of calories right now. hah- all from me bending you over my desk like . . . this.”

you let off a sweet whine, gasping as he’s just leisurely reaming your insides. nanami’s dick dragged its way through each slickly wet nook perfectly, studying every orifice like an equation before solving it with a single thrust. “f- fuck, ‘ken,” you’d mewl out a sweetened sob, the scent of freshly printed review papers filling up your nostrils. never in a million years would you have expected the campus nerd to fuck so nasty.

he’s rigorous - just drilling his honed hips into you until you’re entirely stupid with that pretty pink tongue of yours fully lolled out of your mouth.

his dick was insanely long too, and he grunts at the feeling of his plump tip rudely thwacking against the opening of your cervix. “such a pretty thing. even prettier inside, ‘s like she’s trying to answer for you,” and the wooden worn-down desk continued to rumble from the rickety pounds of weight. the stability of your hips was far too weak.. and nanami brings a hand toward your waist. his touch was soft, and you moaned at the feeling of his stubby fingers dancing up and down your skin before a single strenuous thrust reels you back into reality. “hah- tell me, pretty,” he moans between thrusts, the slickness of your cunt glossing down near the lower base of his full shaft. “why is a woman orgasm important, hm?”

“u- um,” you moan, your brain completely fried. his hits were so good - too good, and you’re just dumbly wordless.

nanami’s hips went askew as he made you arch further into his desk, deepening his angle. your face is lightly planted against the papers and you could hear him sneer from behind you.

one second turned into two . . then three . . then seven . .

a weeping whine rips out of your throat once he pivots even deeper, guiding a big hand between your legs. a thumb swirls around your sopping stuffed cunt and he leans in to kiss near your shoulder. “ ‘um’ isn’t a valid answer, dummy,” and your eyes were already mindlessly rolling to the backs of your empty skull.

but oh- the stretch.

he’s jabbing his hips quicker ‘n quicker as greedy hands grab at your bare skin. “c’mooon, use that pretty brain. my smart girl’s gotta be in there somewhere,” and nanami playfully knocks at the top of your head. “at least i hope she is.”

“t- the woman orgasm’s important because it helps out with the uh- pelvic floor muscles and activity.”

“and.”

“and . . it helps boosts fertility.”

“aaand?”

“a- and ‘m cumming!”

“wha- oh,” nanami lowly chuckles, feeling your cunt tighten around him. the clingy wet claps of skin grew louder - violently ricocheting against both pounds of flesh as he scoots your ass up further.

he’s deep, jackhammering his thick cock into you while occasionally fixing his glasses. every few seconds, they’d slide down the bridge of his nose. it irritates him, and you’d hear him scoff under his breath while he’s still ramming into you senseless. “c’mooon then, show me how orgasms help strengthen pelvic floor muscles, sweetheart.”

as you’re just being fucked stupid into the countless marked sheets of your papers, you gasp. stuffed at the very hilt - at least. a single tap of his cockhead against your cervix and that’s a wrap for you. within a blink of an eye—you’re shamelessly creaming down his cock with a wide shaped mouth.

he’s still thickly stretching through your walls, kneading at every compressing wet corner as you’re releasing and you start to whine. “fuck- fuuuck,” you’d whimper, feeling his jagged hips abruptly halt against you. the cold metal buckle of nanami’s belt rubs against your skin as you moan, seeing nothing but mere stars. competing to catch your breath, you huff out a sweet genuine, “did . . did i pass?”

“hmm,” he kisses near your shoulder blade, readjusting his glasses. glancing down, nanami looks at your panties that were lazily pulled to the side and he makes you arch further.

as you’re still panting, nanami clicks his tongue. “ ‘m afraid not. i think we need to learn more about the clitoris,” and nanami takes off his glasses, bringing them towards your slick opening, witnessing it fog from your dripping mess.

with a low titter, he brings them back up to his curved lips before licking the wet lenses, giving your pretty pussy a ‘lecturing’ spank. “specifically yours.”

✩ ˛˚ . SUGURU GETO.

if it’s anything nastier than suguru geto’s tongue, it’s his thick fat cock.

it’s the epitome of sloppy, especially with how it rummages through your insides, roughly circling his tip around the opening of your slick cunt. prone bone would almost always be his favorite too. it was just the way his crushing body weight would hover over yours—nearly suffocating your backside with just a bit of pressure. “sugu- ngh. suguruuu,” you’d croak out, each stinging slap of skin sending swarms of butterflies inside the inner pits of your tummy.

“quiet, doll,” he’d groan, curling a few fingers around your neck. geto’s thumb traces down your exposed nape before he licks at your ear. “fuck- what did i tell you about speakin’ out of turn?” and as your eyes start to wander to the dark abyss depths of your cranium, you whine. he’s in so deep, massaging every sloppy orifice as his fat tip drags its way through your spongey insides. “you speak after she gets a word in,” and you let off a needy sob once geto gently lift your leg. he’s still pressed into you as you’re being rammed into from behind, and that’s when he slides a hand between your legs. gurgling sloshes leave your pussy once he starts to maneuver circles around your entrance and you whine. “uh huuuh. listen to that pretty back talk with me. i know- i know.”

geto’s palm instantly got moist from your dewy juices spurting on his hand—not that he even minded anyway. you were just perfect like this, and each snap of his hips made you lose your mind ten times quicker. you’re already drooling from the mouth too, lazily sticking out your tongue as your arms start to grow feeble. “f- fuck, suguru. spank it. hng- spank it.”

“myyy, isn’t my girl bein’ extra dirty today, hm?” geto huskily purrs against the lobe of your ear. his rhythm was purely ruthless. your eyes were bulging, akin to the size of pinballs once your mouth started to pry open wider once the stretch continued..

his dick’s so fat - from all curving angles, stuffing you entirely with all nth inches of cock. geto could hear your airy pants grow more breathy and he gutturally sighs, smearing faster shapes against your dripping cunt. “ohhh- don’t shy away now,” he snickers, making you raise your head from the pillow you rested on. “not when you’re so fuckin’ wet. repeat what you want me to do, sweetheart.”

he’s a mere tease. you weren’t even facing him directly, but you could tell from just his smug tone alone that he was cockily grinning ear to ear. with a belting whine departing from your lips, you moan out a needy, “s- spank it suguru.”

“pretty please.”

“p… pretty please.”

geto brashly hums, running his free hand down your spine that glosses with sleek sheets of glistening sweet. his cock’s got you arching perfectly, and every inch pumps its way inside of you with occasional wet ‘pops!’ squelching from both sloppy mounds.

“good girl,” he gruffly whispers against your neck, feeling your hectic hips sensually rock back into him. “yeah- like that, princess. throw that cute ass against m . . me, fuck-” and seconds later, you feel the sharp brief sting of a slap against your teary folds. you’re so wet, wetting up his palm as your moans fill the entire room.

one slap turns into two, then three, then four.

you lost count—it was probably around that number, but you were far too dumb from his dick that’s currently got you in such a trance.

“ ‘m gonna..” you gasp out, the bucking of his hips getting more and more nasty. geto’s body rubs off against you and you then feel his palm swat against your ass. smack! and you hear him groan from behind. your cunt’s sucking him in and spitting him out — and the view was godly. all he saw was a pretty, slick mess as you start to dribble clear syrupy sap between your thighs. “cum- gonna cum suguru.”

“you remember how?” geto teases and your chest heaves once he gives your wet pussy a squeeze. not a single thought was in your mind, just how he was destroying your insides inch after fuckin’ inch. .

the flat of your tongue starts to salivate and you whine, nodding cutely before feeling geto’s thrusts deepen. “silly girl. bet you forgot how- should see your face right now,” he huffs, covering your spit-glossed mouth with his wide palm. you end up drooling on his hand and he tchs, smudging your saliva all over your mouth with his palm.

“c’mon then, gimme a show,” he grouses, slowing his hips down for you. geto does this purposely so you could physically feel how much of a stretch he’s barreling inside of your cunt. it’s huge - and you don’t even realize that after you finally came, you were even stupider.

cottony fuzz coils at both of your ears from the inside as your mouth remains open. you’re just whining, babbling out sweet ‘thank you's’ — even though you don’t even know exactly why you’re thanking him.

“hah- you’re welcome.” geto cunningly coos against your neck, planting a thumb on your throbbing clit. you’re so tender, shaking underneath him as you’re still seeing splotches of utter white. his dick had you unable to create coherent words, and geto brings his thumb up to your mouth before dragging it across your lips. “mmh. messy girl. still gotta work on that mouth.”

✩ ˛˚ . CHOSO KAMO.

“o- oh fuuuck,” he’d swallow, peering his eyes down toward your wet cunt.

it’s pretty - drippin’ with masses of slippery slick that soaks the entirety of his cock.

sucking in a sharp gasping breath, choso grabs onto your hips before flashing a sheepish grin. he wasn’t in fully in and choso’s already a mess. lazily leaning back against the futon—warm, drowsy eyes meet yours with darkened bags hanging underneath his pretty eyelids. choso can’t keep his eyes off you. his eyes flicker from up to your face, then back between your thighs. “mngh- you’re squeezin’ down on me, baby. don’t think ‘m gonna last.”

“you can last, ‘cho,” you whisper, letting off a sweet moan yourself once his cock smugly barrels itself between your puffed folds. you leave a lustrous shine that glimmers over his aching shaft. with achingly slow hips, you start to jerk forward and you can already see choso’s adam’s apple bobbing. “mmh- that’s it, hold me. touch me choso, ‘s okay.”

with choso though—he didn’t realize just how big he was. his dick stood tall, and its height expanded throughout your gummy walls entirely.

piercing the honed edges of your nails into his shoulders, you whine out a breathy gasp. his cock’s rude, sloppily towering inside of your pussy before starting to puncture a few delicious hits into your slick-flooded core. you’re rocking back ‘n forth, staring into his half-open eyes before burying your face into his neck. “nono-don’t do thaaat. wanna see you,” he’d pout, lifting your face.

choso’s already sweating — dewy droplets face down each side of his forehead before he feels the elastic stretch. he could almost taste it, the sugary sweet stretch. the way choso’s mushroomy tip drags its way up down and round your cunt leaves a tender feeling arising in your tummy. precisely, he marks an ‘x’ through your goopy insides with the crown of his dick like it was some kind of sacred treasure. a far more lewd kind though.

and not only did your hips make him stupid, but your pussy did too. “c- chosoooo,” you’d belt out a three-second whimper, sliding a few fingers down his bare chest. he’s hot, and the more your touch ghosts down his skin, the higher his body temperature rises. “right there- ooh! k- keep fuckin’ me there, baby.”

“god- when you whine my name, ‘s so hot,” he’d sheepishly admit, clawing a hand through his black loose strands. choso’s entire abdomen tightens at the sudden quickening speed of your hips. you’re frantic, slamming your ass up and down on his veiny cock while swerving your hips in a plethora of addicting swerving circles.

a beefy arm of his reaches for the headboard and he grabs onto it tight. you moan, staring as the veins and muscles flex through choso’s bicep. you’re riding him so good that he’s literally got to hold onto the bed for support. “ ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum. s- shit, your pussy’s gonna…..fuck.”

the loud paps of jerking skin only increase, and once you lean in to kiss choso—he submissively leans into your touch.

right away, teeth violently clash together as tongues hungrily delve into each mouth, competitively fighting for their fair shares of dominance. choso moans, sliding a palm toward the edge of your jolting ass. you’re riding him to straight oblivion, and he’s already rolling his eyes back. “mmpf-” he’d let off a gargled moan, bringing a swatting smack towards your rear. “fuckmefuckfuckmeee,” he’d whine into your ear, and now he’s got both hands clinging onto your ass. choso’s dragging you firmly back against his pelvis, making sure you feel him deep inside of your compressing walls.

oh- he was entirely pussy drunk, with you being dick drunk.

choso could see the sleazy smile forming against your lips as your back started to arch. he’s damn big, and you moan the second his fat tip keenly thrashes its way against your pulsating g-spot. that was all it took for you to squeal out a needy ‘ah!’ before your legs ended up locking around his waist.

languidly, he’s digging his fingers into your hips before you end up nibbling on his bottom lip. “ ‘m cummin’ baby. hah- cum with me, be my messy girl. c’mon,” and as he’s rambling, choso wraps his strong arms around you. he’s giving you a gentle bear hug, cutely whining into your chest as his head buries itself in between your soft tits. “mmmph.”

as your hips continued to roll, you eventually ended up finishing - hard. your orgasm had you sobbing out wantons of whimpers as his dick’s plugged you very, very full. glittery ribbons spray into you at the same time, and it’s fiery hot.

choso’s shivering underneath you, still having his arms wrapped around you—never wanting to let go. “f- fuck, choso,” you’d breathe out, hearing his tremoring sighs aerate between your tits. choso rolls out his tongue, licking a stripe down the valley of his chest as he’s still pumping you with miles ‘n miles of sultry hot seed. you hum, coddling his head with one arm as your ass slowly comes to a stop.

a clammy hand of yours grabs at your ass as you turn around, glancing at the ivory oozing clods of cum that dribbles down your pudgy opening. “not . . done,” choso heavily huffs, and you moan once he pushes you to lie on your back. with a soft thud! you land against the cushioned furniture before looking up at him.

choso looks hungrier than ever, and before you knew it — he’s slowly sliding your knees up toward your chest. “f- fuck,” he whines, taking a peak at the strings of cum that continue to race down your lustrous-coated slick.

so pretty,

but in choso’s mind, it could be even prettier.

choso leans in, pressing a kiss between your breasts before sliding a thumb down your cunt. a wet psh! shrieks out of your pussy and he lets off a quivering breath. “you can be a little messier, baby,” he’d whisper, and his tone’s a bit more hoarse now. choso hears you gulp, and once he starts to shove your knees up to your chest, he re-aligns his leaky cream-glossed tip. “ ‘m gonna stuff you fuller,” he pressed his final wet kiss against your lips.

“maybe even give you a baby . . or two . . six, h- heh.”

[lotusbxtch]

Juno

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader Word count: 2.2k (lol this was supposed to be a drabble) Rating: Explicit - 18+, MDNI

Summary: Your honeymoon with Joel is off to a bang.

Warnings/tags: honeymoon sex (it’s very feral), unprotected PIV sex (they’re trying to get pregnant but be smart IRL!), oral sex (m and f receiving), big fat breeding kink, pussy pronouns, creampie, cumplay, mentions of foreplay over the clothes, sort-of/accidental voyeurism, very loud sex, rough sex, mentions of marriage/family planning/birth control use, dom!Joel, feral!Joel, references to pregnancy, no outbreak!AU, cursing (but honestly swear words should be the least of your worries for this story lol), Reader is female, has hair that is long enough to put into a ponytail, and able bodied but otherwise not described (it’s you, boo!), no use of y/n

a/n: This is what happens when a horny invasive thought is allowed to take root in my brain. My darling menace @for-a-longlongtime sent me this Reel and it made me… think about things. Combined with the inspiration of the song Juno by Sabrina Carpenter, this is FILTH. Just… filth. But since @mountainsandmayhem and @alltheirdamn literally begged me to write this, here you are, written in a near-fugue state. Not beta’d, we’re doing this thing unprotected, just like Joel lmao. Banners by @saradika-graphics.

MASTERLIST

a/n pt 2: psssssst. Do you like Joel Miller? Do you want *more* Joel Miller? How about a series where not only Joel is your husband, but Frankie is your boyfriend? If so, tap here for SoCal to NorCal, my ongoing series!

I should have closed that damn sliding door.

You knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as you stepped foot into the immaculate, stylish Greek vacation suite you’d booked for your honeymoon with your new husband, Joel Miller. You’d spent the long flight teasing each other incessantly - the lightest of caresses, lingering kisses, surreptitious groping and heavy petting under the luxe blankets afforded to you by your first class seats. Joel couldn’t keep his hands off you most days, but now, fresh from your beautiful wedding as his darling wife? He was absolutely insatiable.

Joel had barely shut the front door on the endlessly kind bellhop before he was on you, ravenous with desire. His large hands began peeling off the soft layers of clothing you’d worn on the airplane, kissing you fervently and moaning into your mouth. You wove your fingers through your hair, tugging lightly when he kissed down your neck. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whined, and you felt him growl lowly before nipping at your pulse point.

“Been waiting hours to take you apart, baby,” he murmured. Sucking a hickey onto the column of your throat, he laved the spot with his tongue to soothe the light pain. “Teasing me when you knew I couldn’t do shit about it.”

You pulled back on his hair with a yank, making him hiss. “You asked for it. You were the one rubbing circles against my clit through my sweatpants. My panties are ruined because of it.”

“Not my fault your pussy is so juicy,” Joel chuckled. “Especially now that she knows she’s gonna getting dicked down as many times as she can take it in a day.”

A couple months before your wedding, you and Joel discussed your desire to start trying for children. You’d thrown away your birth control after that conversation, but resolved to use other forms of protection until after the wedding.

You nor Joel had packed a single condom for this trip.

“Fuck me, Mr. Miller,” you breathed, moving your hand from his hair down his body to his rock-hard cock. He groaned when you made contact.

“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Miller,” Joel hummed, walking your naked body backwards towards the bedroom as you pulled at his clothes.

Now, you’re realizing that the sliding door to the ocean-view balcony is cracked open, allowing a lovely coastal breeze in but also letting your cries of pleasure float into the wind. Joel’s face is buried in your drenched pussy from behind you, his slurps and smacks obscene, not to mention his moans of ecstasy at the taste of your juices. You lay your chest onto the bed and take it - that’s all you can really do. You’re trying to stifle your sighs and moans, but your husband’s expert tongue is making that increasingly difficult.

“Oh god, right there,” you whimper, and your first orgasm of the day rolls through your body slowly, unfurling like the fragrant blossoms in the white-washed courtyard of the villa. He continues moaning and lapping up every drop of your essence while your body shakes.

One more hard suck on your clit, and then Joel is pulling you back onto your hands and knees on the plush cream bedding. He crawls towards your body, grabbing your hips with one warm hand while the other loosely grips his shaft, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds. 

You whine. “Please, Joel.” You’re not above begging when it comes to Joel’s cock.

Joel growls in arousal and begins to feed you his length, inch by inch. You bite your lip, trying to quiet the involuntary moans that the stretch of his girth seem to rip out of your throat. The villa is private, but you still have neighbors - you’d rather not have to face them at the dinner buffet later after they heard exactly how well your honeymoon was going so far.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” Joel praises you, his eyes never leaving how good his length looks sawing in and out of your soft pussy, shiny with your slick. The phrasing makes your cunt clench on him, which nearly shoves him off the proverbial ledge. He throws his head back, attempting to collect himself, and then notices you drawing circles around your aching clit. 

“Desperate to come again already?” he questions, quirking an eyebrow at you. You nod your head, pressing harder and swirling faster around your nub. 

“Then fucking come for your husband,” Joel grits out, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust of his hips. On the last word, you explode yet again, burying your mouth in the crook of your elbow to quiet your cries. Your pussy spasms over his length, nearly sending him over the edge, and you’re absolutely gushing for him, slick and juices running down your thighs.

Joel yanks himself out of your body, not ready to come yet. You cry out in disappointment, but he hauls him and yourself up off the bed.

“Kneel,” he commands. You drop to your knees onto the plush sheepskins rug, legs like jelly already. His hard cock bobs in front of your face, coated with the evidence of your orgasm. Your mouth opens and you drop out your tongue like a welcome mat.

Joel nearly comes at the sight before him.

“Suck,” he says simply. Grabbing your hair into a ponytail, Joel guides your blazing hot mouth onto his shaft, controlling the speed of your blowjob with his hands. He tries to avoid thrusting into your throat too hard, but he knows you like it rough. The taste of your own pussy is all over his dick, and it makes you dizzy with need.

You play the good girl, sucking and licking as directed by Joel’s moans and hand, but soon enough he’s hauling you off your feet to put you back onto the bed. His cock is an angry red color at the tip now, precum continuing to bubble out of the slit. 

“Wanna try out something new,” he mutters, laying you down on your back. He pushes your legs to your shoulders, nearly folding you in half, and guides your hands to the back of your thighs to hold them open. You feel so exposed, but it makes a thrill run up your spine. Joel kneels with his knees just under your ass, leaning over you, before taking his hand and running it through your soaked folds, reveling in the filthy wet sounds your center makes for him. You whine, desperate for more. Joel places your calves on his shoulders as he leans forward, caging you with his body. One hand drops to the bed to steady himself, while the other grabs his cock and lines himself up again.

“Have you ever tried this one?” Joel asks you with a smirk.

You smile wickedly back, knowing what you need to say to egg him on. “Can’t say I have. Wasn’t exactly trying to get bred.”

You see Joel’s eyes flash at the last word, a ferality burning in his irises. A near-snarl erupts from his mouth as he bottoms out in one powerful thrust. A loud moan rips from your throat, and you slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, remembering the balcony door is still open. Joel shoves your hand away, grinding deeper into your cunt, brushing against your cervix. You can barely breathe with the intensity of pleasure racing in your veins.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back home, eliciting another loud cry from you. “If you wanna be bred so bad, I’m gonna make everyone at this resort know exactly how much you want it.” With that, Joel sets a punishing pace, his hips and balls slapping against your slick skin. The wet sounds of your mutual pleasure ricochet through the room, and probably outdoors. In this position, all you can do is lay there and moan and cry and take it. Your pussy continues seeping slick, wave after wave running down your ass and thighs, dampening the heavenly bedding.

You’ve never been so fucking wet in your entire life, and Joel knows it.

“God, this pussy is so fucking juicy for me, huh? Just want to get bred that bad, huh?” He mutters to you as he fucks into you so deep that you nearly feel him in your throat. You’ve long since lost your ability to silence your noises, a steady stream of loud gasps and cries emanating from your mouth. Joel just feels so fucking good inside of you, and suddenly you start babbling.

“Yes, baby, I’m so fucking wet for you,” you moan, the pleasure coiling in your bones with every thrust of Joel’s thick girth inside you. “You’re so deep, you fill me so good, don’t stop don’t stop don’t stooooopppppppp –” Your words are cut off by a silent scream as you come for a third time. The pleasure shimmers across your limbs and a shaky moan finally snakes its way out of your throat.

He growls, fucking into you even harder. “Good fucking girl, let me hear you,” Joel grits out. He picks up his pace, clearly getting close to his own orgasm. The increase in speed releases a surprised scream from you, your loud cry stuttering from the sheer force of Joel’s thrusts into you. His hips are a blur, and your third orgasm begins to build into your fourth, the intensity ratcheted to new heights.

“That’s right, scream for me,” he moans, his thrusts getting erratic as his peak approaches. “Want me to fill up this messy pussy, get it even messier? Gonna fuck you so full it has no choice but to take.”

Joel’s words cause a riot of tingles to cascade across your skin. “Yes, please, fuck me full, Joel. Give me your cum, make it stick, give me a baby, please,” you cry, and Joel slaps your ass hard, and you scream again. There’s no doubt that everyone within a mile radius can hear the two of you, but your head is so full of pleasure that you really couldn’t care less. All you can think about is Joel, his cock, and how badly you want to be dripping with his cum.

“Oh god, honey, I’m gonna come,” Joel whimpers, and to send him over the edge, you clench down on his cock as hard as you can. He gasps. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna cooooooo–”

Joel shoves his cock as deeply into you as possible, bellowing loudly in ecstasy, triggering your own orgasm to crest at the same time. His release is so intense that it feels like his hot cum is jettisoning directly into your uterus, filling you to the brim. He pumps shallowly into you, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When the last spurt of his spend lands in your womb, Joel collapses on top of you, rolling you to the side, still buried within your clutch. Your sweat-slick limbs tangle as you both try to catch your breath. The gentle breeze flutters the curtains.

Everything feels hazy and perfect.

Eventually you come to, pressing kisses to Joel’s completely blissed-out face, eliciting a soft smile across his plush lips. You kiss your husband softly, slowly, and sensually. He gives your nose a peck, and then buries his face into your neck, breathing in your scent deeply.

“Fuck, that was…” Joel starts, lost for words to describe what just happened.

“... incredible,” you finish his sentence, beaming at him. You intertwine your fingers, so elated that Joel is really yours forever.

Joel nods and kisses you one more time, then moves to untangle your aching limbs, massaging your muscles with his strong hands. He pulls out of your messy center slowly with a groan, watching as his cum begins to seep out of you. You watch as he scoops away the runaway seed, pushing it back into your cunt. A brief flush of arousal pulses in your veins at the sight.

“Gotta keep it where it belongs,” Joel croons, winking at you as he walks towards the bathroom to rinse off and grab you a towel. You giggle, moving to prop your legs and hips up on your pillows, allowing his release to pool & settle inside you. The idea of finally having a baby with the love of your life makes your insides flutter with joy.

While you rest, you pull up Snapchat, curious to see what other fellow travelers are up to in the area. You tap around the map, watching stranger’s stories of sailing excursions, lounging on the shore, and eating delicious food. You notice a Snap story in the same vacation complex as your rental, and you tap on it excitedly, hoping to get a sense of some fun things to do in the area.

The video opens up in selfie mode as a blonde, sunglasses-wearing traveler records himself outside on his villa’s patio, laughing quietly and rubbing his arm awkwardly with the caption “Sounds like our new neighbors on holiday in Greece are having a whale of a time… Only been here 10 minutes!” In the background, a woman can be heard screaming with ecstasy, clearly having sex, her voice stuttering as whoever she’s fucking is giving it to her hard. You then hear a slap, then another cry of pleasure.

Wait a minute.

Not a slap… a spank.

Your nerves frost immediately and heat blazes up your neck as your mouth drops open, realizing that the couple having very loud sex… is actually you and Joel.

Oh no. 

...I REALLY should have closed that damn sliding door.

MASTERLIST

Tagging in case you, too, are horny for Joel (please let me know if you'd like to be removed from the tags!): @mermaidgirl30 @sin-djarin @perotovar @qveerthe0ry @nerdieforpedro

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @yxtkiwiyxt @almostempty @almostfoxglove @guiltyasdave

@legendary-pink-dot @arcanefox207 @dancingtotuyo @musings-of-a-rose @milla-frenchy

@yopossum @polaroidpascal @chippedowlmug @magneticecstasy @reggiesfilthylittlesecret

[chosok-amo]

SAY HIII! TO THE CAMERA s. geto

☆ sum. stay quiet and keep him warm and hard, while he is playing video games, that’s the order. but it seems like too much hardness making you lose control of your body.

warning. non-sorcerer au, roommate geto, spank, cōck-drunk reader, petnames, dirty talk, overstim, praises, fem! reader, sugu gets annoyed when you can’t stay still, he’s annoyed because you make him lose, lol, tats-spank, háir-pulling, choking, bit exhibitionism.

there’s something deeply comforting about having geto suguru as your roommate, a kind of unspoken reassurance that no matter how life twists and turns, you have someone in your corner. he’s not just kind; he’s the kind of person who’s genuinely considerate, remembering the little things that most people overlook. his gentle humor fills even the quietest moments with warmth, and his manners, always so natural, make you feel valued and understood. he’s the type of person who holds open doors, who waits for you when you linger on your way home, and who genuinely listens when you speak, as if your words are the only ones that matter.

living together, you’ve come to depend on him in a way that feels both new and familiar. in the late hours of the night, when silence settles over the apartment, there are moments of connection that you’ve never found with anyone else. he's seen you in every state — the vulnerable, raw moments when you’re barely holding it together, the giddy highs when you’re spilling over with excitement, and even the quiet days when all you need is to be near someone without saying a word. every joy and every sorrow, he’s there, a constant presence, filling the empty spaces of your life.

over time, though, there’s another unspoken need that starts to creep in. it’s there in the lingering glances, the way your touches linger just a moment too long, the awareness that builds between you both, each brushing touch leaving a faint trace of longing. you’ve found yourself drawn to him, in a way that goes beyond friendship, a desire simmering under the surface that you don’t dare voice. it’s been a while since you’ve had anyone to share that kind of closeness with, and every time he’s near, you can feel that need building, that craving that he seems to sense. and that ‘desire’ you crave so much, geto is there with an open arms and. . . open legs.

it was one of those days a mix of emotions swirling, a growing desire that had been building in the space between you two, bubbling to the surface. without overthinking it, you found yourself outside geto’s room, feeling a thrill as you opened the door without knocking. you were wearing only your skirt and a simple bra, skin tingling under the weight of anticipation.

geto was at his computer, focused on whatever he had been doing, but as soon as he heard the door creak open, he turned, spinning his chair around slowly. his gaze swept over you, eyes darkening with a spark of something unmistakable as he took you in. he let out a low whistle, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, clearly enjoying the view. “well,” he drawled, his voice a touch rougher, “looks like someone’s feeling bold today.”

his own appearance was casual but undeniably alluring. he wore only a pair of loose grey sweatpants, his toned chest bare, catching the soft light from the room. his long, dark hair fell loosely around his shoulders, framing his sharp features and giving him an almost untamed look that made your heart race faster. he watched you with a steady, appreciative gaze, that familiar, playful glint in his eyes turning to something deeper as his eyes traced over your form.

“you here for something, or just planning to drive me crazy?” he teased, his voice low, dripping with that lazy confidence he always wore so effortlessly. you felt your cheeks warm as you stepped into his room, but you didn’t waver, letting your gaze flicker over his chest, taking in the way his muscles shifted.

“i think you know exactly why i’m here,” you replied, keeping your voice light but letting the meaning behind your words settle between you. his smirk widened, and he straightened, reaching a hand out to you, his touch gentle but insistent as he pulled you closer.

his hand brushing your waist, guiding you to stand between his legs. his other hand came up to rest on your hip, fingers tracing small, lazy circles along your bare skin as he looked up at you.

god, the way he looked at you, with that sultry gaze sweeping over every inch of your body, made it nearly impossible to keep your composure. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare skin, each touch almost enough to send a shiver down your spine. the air between you two felt thick, electric, as if it held every unspoken thought, every lingering glance and desire that had built up over time. you could hear the faint hitch in his breath as you stepped closer, closing what little distance remained between you.

“is that right?” he murmured, voice low and rough, his tone thick with barely concealed amusement. “and what did i do to earn this little visit? not that i i’m complaining.” his fingers toyed with the edge of your skirt, tracing a slow line up your thigh that sent waves of warmth through you, each touch building a sweet tension that had you leaning in, craving more.

you couldn’t help but hum in response, letting your fingers glide over his bare shoulder blade, feeling the warmth of his skin, the solid strength beneath your touch. your other hand found its way to his hair, threading through the long, dark locks that framed his face so perfectly handsome, your fingers lingering as you gently pulled him closer.

“it’s not what you did,” you replied, your voice a low, teasing murmur, your lips close enough to brush against his ear. “it’s what you can do.” the words hung between you, dripping with anticipation, each syllable filled with a promise you knew he could hear.

geto chuckled, a warm, low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. he leaned into your touch, his hand sliding up under your skirt, fingers splaying against your skin, and you could feel the heat of his palm, the barely suppressed tension in the way he touched you.

“oh?” he drawled, tilting his head so his face was dangerously close to your bellybutton. his lips grazed the shell of your skin, his breath hot against your skin. “and what exactly is it that you need me to do, pretty girl?”

before you could answer, his hands found your waist, gently but insistently pulling you down to sit on his lap. his arm wrapped securely around your bare waist, the other hand still warm and steady on your thigh. you felt yourself sink into him, the heat of his skin against yours, the way he held you close with that effortless confidence.

you leaned in, lips close to his ear as you whispered, voice teasing but edged with a hint of urgency. “you know exactly what i want, suguru,” you murmured, your fingers tracing along his collarbone, feeling his breath hitch as you spoke. “stop pretending to be stupid.”

a lazy smirk tugged at his lips, his gaze darkening with satisfaction as he tightened his hold on you, his hand slipping higher on your thigh, tracing lazy circles that sent a spark of anticipation through you. “oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice rough with restrained desire, “i’d never be that stupid.”

geto shifted his hips, the heat of your bodies pressed together, his hand sliding slowly to the curve of your hip. there was a raw, unabashed hunger in his eyes, his gaze traveling over every inch of your exposed skin, taking in every subtle shudder, every quickening breath.

he pulled you even closer, desperate, and you could feel the tension building between the bitten of you as his other hand slid further up your skirt, his knuckles brushing over your inner thigh, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. his hand squeezed your thigh, fingers digging into your skin, an unspoken promise that sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

“if you want something,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough whisper, “all you have to do is ask.” then he leaned in, his lips trailing a warm path from your collarbone up to your shoulder, and you could feel the low rumble of his voice against your sensitive skin. he nipped at your ear, his voice a dark, lustful murmur. “beg me for it, sweetheart.”

his lips traveled back down to your neck, teeth scraping against your skin, and a small gasp escaped your lips as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. his lips curled into a satisfied smile against your flesh, and his hand slid even higher up your thigh, the heat of his touch searing through you.

“beg me,” he repeated, his voice low and gravelly. “beg me to give it to you… and i’ll give you everything you need.”

and he lies.

you sit on his lap as he games, his cock buried deep inside you, you trying to stifle moans as occasionally he thrusts up into you, barely— either too distracted by his stupid games or he just being his usual self, a fucking jerk and a tease. “such a gooood girl, baby,” he growls lowly into your ear, muting his microphone. after all, he didn’t want his teammates hearing what a good little toy you were being, taking his cock like you were.

how had things turned out like this, you wonder? you were the one that was supposed to be teasing him, not the other way around. now you were the one, stifling whimpers and moans, and almost begging him to fuck you.

“s-suguru, p-please..” you whimper.

he ignores you completely as he goes back to his game, turning his microphone back on, saying, “son of a bitch, you fuckers can’t do anything right, can you?” you wiggle your hips on top of him, trying to get him to pay attention to you more, and his hand comes to rest briefly on your thigh, squeezing it tightly. a warning to knock it off. but you continue doing it. you had to take things back under your control, and what better way than by wiggling your hips, feeling him brush up against your sensitive spot, and letting out a quiet whimper.

he mutes his microphone again, letting out a warning growl, and lowly says, “y/n.. stop moving and be a good girl for me, hm?” his voice is dangerous, a sign to dare you to move even just a beat. but youuu, you tilt your head back, peering back into his face, and smile innocently. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about, suguruuu. . .”

your back was facing him as you sat on his lap, elbows resting hard on his computer desk. only you cute pink skirt wrap loosely around your waist with no underwear. your bare nipples pressed against the hard surface. geto’s fingers dig into your thigh, holding you still as he continues playing his game, ignoring your attempts at seduction. his breathing grows heavier, the scent of his arousal filling the air between you. he’s clearly struggling to focus on the match with you writhing atop him like this.

“y/n... i swear if you keep this up, i’m going to bend you over my desk and fuck you senseless,” he warns through gritted teeth, voice menacing. despite the threat, there’s an unmistakable note of desire lacing his words.

“now be a good girl and sit still,” he warned, his hand reaches up to grab your hip, pulling you down harder onto his throbbing erection and continue to cockwarming him while he’s playing games with his friends— stupid gojo satoru. a choked gasp escapes your lips as he grinds up into you, stretching you deliciously around his girth.

his grip tightens on your hip, guiding your movements to grind yourself against him even more. he doesn’t care who hears anymore, his mind consumed with thoughts of claiming you right here and now. his game character takes a hit from an enemy player the moment you do a harsh slammed on his cock, causing him to curse loudly into his mic.

“fuck! ’m distracted,” he admits before cutting himself off mid-sentence, realizing just how loud he’d been. he quickly mutes his mic once more, though he makes no move to stop grinding you against him. “that’s what you wanted, isn’t it, y/n? for me to lose focus so i could finally give you what you've been craving.”

his hand slides up your spine from your hip, gripping your neck firmly enough to let you know he means business. “i’m not going to repeat myself y/n, stop fucking moving.” his other hand comes up to slap lightly against your ass after retreating from the keyboard, leaving a warm imprint on your skin before he pushes your chest further to his desk and continues to play his game. gasp!

geto’s dominant grip on your hips and neck sends shivers down your spine, your body responding instinctively to his commanding touch. the sharp slap on your ass makes you gasp and gasp, the sting mixing with the pleasure of having your bare bottom exposed to him.

despite his warnings, you can’t help but subtly rock your hips, seeking friction against his thick length still buried deep within you. your upper teeth sinking lowered on your lower lips, a subtle way to hide the desperate moaning. your breath hitches as he pushes you harder against the desk, the cool wood a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body beneath you.

as geto focuses back on his game, you find yourself leaning forward more— your nipples touching the cold surface making you shiver, bracing your hands on the edge of the desk under you. this position allows you to sink deeper onto his cock, your inner walls clenching reflexively around him.

with each subtle roll of your hips, geto lets out a low groan, his focus waverting from his game momentarily. he pulls you closer, forcing his cock deeper inside you until you feel every inch of him pressing against your most sensitive spots.

“fucking hell, y/n...” he curses under his breath, trying to maintain some semblance of control. but it’s clear that he’s losing the battle against both his own desires and yours, even against his own stupid games. he smacks your ass again, this time harder, leaving a bright red mark on your flesh.

“be still!” he demands, his voice laced with both frustration and lust. his fingers dig into your neck, applying pressure just shy of pain. the smack on your ass sends another jolt of pleasure through you, your body arching back against him instinctively. the mix of pain and pleasure leaves you panting, your pussy clamping down on his cock as if begging for more.

despite his command, you can’t seem to obey. instead, you press your breasts further into the desk, enjoying the sensation of your hardened nipples rubbing against the cool surface. each movement sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, intensifying the ache building between your legs.

“suguru... please,” you whisper, your voice barely above a whimper. the desperation in your tone is undeniably begging. geto’s grip on your neck tightens, his thumb brushing over your pulse point rhythmically as he fights against the urge to simply throw caution to the wind and claim you right then and there. instead, he focuses back on his game, cursing loudly when his character takes another hit.

“shit... y/n, shut up before i really lose my shit,” he growls, punctuating each word with a deep thrust of his hips. his cock surges deeper inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes stars burst behind your closed eyelids. his other hand losing the touch of his keyboard for a beat to sending a slaps down on your ass again, this time in slow deliberate strokes meant to draw out your pleasure. he’s punishing you for making him lose focus, but also rewarding you for being such a tease.

geto’s punishing thrusts send waves of ecstasy crashing over you, your nails digging into the desktop as you struggle to hold back cries of pleasure. the slow, deliberate slaps on your ass echo through the room, each impact sending tingles racing up your spine.

“ahh!” you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your pleas growing more desperate as the coil of tension inside you winds tighter and tighter. the combination of his thick cock stretching you open and the relentless stimulation to your sensitive ass has you teetering on the brink of climax. you can feel the telltale fluttering in your core, signaling your impending release.

geto’s jaw clenches as he battles to keep his composure, refusing to let go and indulge in the sweet release that beckons him. his fingers waltz down from your neck to the curve of your hip, tightening on the soft flesh, his grip bordering on bruising as he holds you in place, denying you the friction you crave.

“not yet, y/n... you don’t get to come until i say so,” he rasps, his voice strained with the effort of restraint. his hips buck upward sharply, burying himself to the hilt inside you for the countless times and grinding against your clit with a forceful thrust.

he repeats this motion several times, using your body for his own pleasure, before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in with brutal intensity. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your muffled moans and his guttural groans.

the rough treatment only fuels your desire, pushing you closer to the edge with each powerful thrust. your pussy clamps down on his cock, milking him for more as you ride the wave of pleasure he’s forcing upon you. the way you roll your hips like you are either desperately looking for the climax you’ve been craving for the past hours, trying to get revenge for keeping you waiting, or just simply trying to suck his soul— geto are fine either way.

“pleaseee. . . sugu��—’m gonna cum,” you stutter out, the words trailing off into a series of whimpers. your inner walls clench and flutter around his cock, pulsing with the intensity wanting of your release, “please, ’m sorry,” you cry. your body convulses, each tremor rippling through you as you cling desperately to the desk.

geto grunts, feeling your walls clamp around him, urging him towards his own climax. but he refuses to give in just yet, determined to make you pay for distracting him with your teasing. “not good enough... beg properly,” he commands, his voice a low growl. he slams into you again, driving his cock even deeper than before, stretching your inner walls to their limit— kissing your cervix each time. his hand moves from your hip to your dripping cunt, his fingers delving into your wetness, stroking at your swollen clit.

he keeps up this merciless pace, alternating between hard thrusts and swift withdrawals, driving you to the brink of madness. your pleas become more frantic, your body trembling under the onslaught of sensations. “please— let me cum, i need to...” you gasp out, your voice hitching on each word as you fight to maintain coherence.

each stroke of his fingers against your clit sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, amplifying the ache in your core. the combination of his thick cock pounding into you and his skilled fingers working your clit has you teetering on the precipice of obliviation.

“i’m sorry, i’m sooo sorry— pleasee...” you sob, your plea turning into a keening wail as you about to reach your pea only for geto to lift you up off his cock before slamming back into your pussy— playing with your climax and just generically being an asshole.

geto leans over you, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispers darkly, “not yet... not till you learn your lesson.” with each thrust, he aims to prove his dominance, showing no mercy as he punishes you for your disobedience. his fingers never relent from their torment of your clit, adding fuel to the fire that’s consuming you from within.

he reaches around to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly before pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. the sharp pinch sends an unexpected surge of pleasure coursing through you, making your back arch off the desk and the game long forgotten.

“beg better...” he taunts, knowing full well that he’s playing with fire. without saying a word to his friends, geto left his game to open his computer camera. he grab a fistful of your hair to pull your face away from the desk. a soft light illuminating your face. geto smile to his camera as he saw your fucked-face, ruined by your tears and your mascara.

he pulls you closer until your back touches his sweaty chest before snake his arm under your thighs and opens your legs wider to his camera. “say hi, to the camera y/n,” he whisper in your ear as he rest his chin on shoulder. your breath comes in short gasps, each thrust of his cock sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. the split pinch on your nipple only adds to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.

you whimper, your voice choked with unshed tears. the sight of his hand gripping your hair tightly sends a shiver down your spine, reminding you who’s in control. with the way he pressing your back against his chest, knees straight glue to your chest, you can’t help but squirm on top of him. his heavy breathing in your ear, the warmth of his body against yours—it’s all too much.

“hi. . .” you manage to choke out, your voice barely audible. the words are directed towards the camera, but they’re laced with desperation and pleading.

geto chuckles, dark and mocking, at your feeble attempt to address the camera, his amusement evident in the way he tightens his grip on your hair. he increases the tempo of his thrusts, his cock pistoning in and out of your drenched cunt with ruthless efficiency— visible to the camera of his computer.

“that’s iiiit... look pretty while you’re getting fucked,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that sends chills down your spine. he watches you through the screen, purple eyes glinting with a predatory gleam as he observes your reactions. his free hand trails down your body, exploring every curve and crevice with possessive intent. he cups your breast, giving it a firm squeeze before smacking it hard enough to leave a red print on your skin.

“still think you can distract me?” he asks, his tone laced with challenge.

your body quivers under the onslaught of sensations, each thrust of his cock sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing the rhythm of his thrusts. “n-no—can’t, i won’t,” you stammer out, your voice choked with emotion. the sting of his slap on your breast makes you flinch, but it also intensifies the heat coiling in your lower belly. despite the pain and humiliation, you find yourself pushed closer to the edge, teetering on the brink of orgasmic bliss.

geto smirks at your admission, pleased with the submission in your voice. he drives into you harder, relentlessly in his pursuit of your pleasure—and your punishment. “mmm, good girl... now cum for me,” he orders, his voice a seductive mix of command and promise. he lets go of your hair to grasp your throat, applying just enough pressure to ensure your attention remains focused on him and nothing else.

the hand that had been smacking your breasts now finds its way between your bodies, rubbing circles onto your clit while still keeping a firm hold on your throat. he watches intently, observing how your face contorts in pleasure, enjoying the sight of you succumbing to his will.

“let me hear it... let me hear how good it feels when i fuck you senseless,” he demands, his tone leaving no room for argument. “come on baby, i know you are dirty girl.” your entire being focuses on the sensation of his cock plunging into you, each thrust hitting spots inside you that send waves of pleasure crashing through your body. the pressure on your throat and the stimulation of your clit combine to push you closer to the edge.

a strangled moan escapes your lips, your voice breaking as you try to comply with his demand. “it- it feels so good— so fucking good...” you pant, your words punctuated by gasps and whimpers. your pussy clenches around his cock, desperate for release as you cling to the last threads of sanity.

geto grins at your words, satisfaction washing over him as he feels your pussy tightening around his throbbing member. he tightens his grip on your throat slightly, forcing a choked cry from your lips.

“that’s it... that’s my good girl,” he praises, his voice a deep rumble of approval. he quickens his pace, each thrust becoming more powerful and deliberate. the sound of your moans and the sight of your flushed face spur him on further. he wants to see you unravel, to witness the moment when pleasure overtakes reason. “cum for me... show me what a fucking mess i’ve made of you,” he grunts, his fingers rubbing furiously against your clit, eager to draw out your climax.

your body trembles on the brink of release, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive clit sends you spiraling into oblivion. you throw your head back to his shoulder, closing your eyes as you feel your toes curling and your legs shaking in the air. stars running around behind your eyelids and burst into fireworks.

a loud cry rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, your cunt clenching tightly around his cock as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body. your limbs feel weak, your mind foggy as you ride out the intensity of your climax.

“oh god, oh godddd...” you whimper, your body wracked with sobs as you struggle to regain control as geto watches you through his screen. geto relishes the feeling of your cum spasming around his cock, begging to milk him dry and sucking his cum out, and paint your velvet walls white. he lets out a low groan, his own climax building rapidly.

he continues to rub your clit mercilessly, determined to prolong your pleasure even as he approaches his own peak. his grip on your throat loosens slightly, allowing you to breathe raggedly. “look at you... crying and coming like a fucking whore,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust. he gives one final, deep thrust, burying himself completely inside you as he releases his seed deep within your womb.

your body continues to convulse with aftershocks of pleasure, your cunt still clamping sporadically around his cock. the sensation of his hot cum filling you up pushes you over the edge once more, another wave of ecstasy washing over you. through tear-filled eyes, you gaze up at the screen, meeting geto’s intense purple stare. your mouth hangs open just a wee, panting heavily as you struggle to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.

“fuck, suguru,” you whimper, your voice hoarse from crying out during your orgasms. your arms fall limply to your sides, unable to support your weight any longer. you’re utterly spent, drained of all energy and willpower, finally. all you can do is sit there on his lap, impaled on his cock, as he fills you with his essence.

geto watches you intently, drinking in the sight of your ravaged expression and trembling form. he keeps his cock buried deep inside you, relishing the feeling of his cum slowly leaking out of your used hole.

he finally releases your throat, his hands moving to cup your breasts instead, squeezing them gently as if testing their weight. he strokes your nipples with his thumbs, teasing them back to hardness. “such a beautiful mess,” he whispers, his tone filled with pride and satisfaction. he reaches up to gently wipe away some of the tears trailing down your cheeks, his touch surprisingly tender given the rough sex you just endured.

once he’s satisfied with your appearance, he leans back in his chair, pulling you against his chest as he cradles you in his strong arms. he strokes your hair soothingly, humming a soft melody that seems to vibrate through his body and into yours.

“so beautiful,” he coos, his voice a warm caress against your ear, eyes meeting yours in the land of his screen. “shame we’re only roommate,” he smiling softly before kissing your forehead. your body molds against his, seeking comfort and reassurance after the intense session. struggling the way your body trembling, with the energy left you move to face him, nuzzle into his neck and curl up on his lap, breathing in his scent as you slowly come down from the high of your multiple orgasms.

you let out a soft sigh, your breath tickling his skin. despite the tenderness of the moment, you can’t help but feel a pang of sadness at his words. as much as you crave his touch and desire him intensely, you know that this is all it can ever be—a secret tryst between roommates.

“yeah, what a shame,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. you trail off, not daring to finish the thought aloud. you know it would be futile to hope for more, to dream of a future where suguru could be yours openly and without shame. geto holds you close, his arms encircling your waist possessively. he tilts your chin up with one finger, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.

“don’t look so sad, kitten,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “we have this, don’t we? these moments, just you and me...” he leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. his tongue delves into your mouth, exploring and claiming every inch of you. when he finally pulls away, you’re both left panting softly.

“i know it’s not ideal,” he admits, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “but it’s better than nothing, isn’t it? at least we can have this... this connection.” he smiles ruefully, a hint of melancholy in his eyes. “and who knows?”

you nod slowly, trying to convince yourself that yes, this is enough. it’s not ideal, but it’s something—something real and raw and incredibly satisfying. you capture his hand and press it against your cheek, holding it there as you gaze into his eyes. “yeah, whatever,” you agree softly.

you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm before releasing his hand. you snuggle back into his embrace, feeling contented and oddly fulfilled. maybe this was all you needed after all—to share these stolen moments with geto, to experience the depth of emotion and physical intimacy that he alone could provide.

geto’s smile widens at your acceptance, relief washing over him with hummed followed along after. he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulling you flush against his muscular frame. “whatever indeed,” he chuckles, the vibrations of his laughter resonating through your body. he nuzzles your hair affectionately, inhaling your scent deeply.

“i’m glad we understand each other, kitten,” he says softly, his voice tinged with warmth. “now, how about we take a nap? i think we’ve earned it after that intense session.” he settles back in his chair, cradling you in his lap as he reclines comfortably. his cock, still semi-hard, presses against your ass, a constant reminder of your recent activities.

“just rest here with me,” he whispers, stroking your back soothingly. “let’s recharge our batteries for the next time.” geto grins, a devilish glint in his purple eyes. “what a sweet shit-talker,” you mutter, too tired or maybe too much of a coward to say it out loud.

the soft insult making the raven-haired man snort, “well, aren’t you a cynic?” his hand moves to stroke your hair, his touch gentle yet firm. “but hey, even the biggest cynics need a little sweetness now and then, right?” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “and besides, i’m just looking out for my favorite roommate.” he winks, his smirk playful yet dangerous.

you roll your eyes, attempting to put up a facade of indifference, but you can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “oh, so i’m your favorite, huh?” you retort weakly, leaning into his touch. “i must be so honored.”

he lets out another of those low laughs, the sound sending a shiver through you. “oh, you should be,” he says, his voice lilting with playful arrogance. “i don’t just let anyone sit on my lap, you know. you should count yourself lucky, sweetheart.”

you let yourself relax in his embrace, the warmth of his body surrounding you like a comforting blanket. his hands continue their soothing motions, roaming over your back and hair, lulling you into a state of blissful contentment. despite your exhaustion, a cheeky thought crosses your mind as you snuggle closer to him.

“favorite roommate, huh?” you tease, your voice low and sultry. “i thought i was your only roommate.”

geto chuckles once again, his chest rumbling against yours. “ah, semantics,” he replies, his voice a mix of amusement and feigned nonchalance. “details, details. my favorite… my only… same difference, really.” he pulls you even closer, his arms encircling you like a warm, muscular embrace. “besides,” he murmurs, his lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck. “you're the only roommate i need.”

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth of his chest rumbling with his quiet chuckle, his voice laced with that familiar mix of amusement and teasing. his arms tightened around you, drawing you closer until there was hardly any space between you, his embrace both comforting and exhilarating.

as his lips found that sensitive spot on your neck, a soft sigh escaped you, and you leaned into his touch, letting your fingers trail gently along his shoulder. the way he held you, the warmth of his breath against your skin, everything felt like second nature, the kind of closeness that only he could bring.

snuggling closer, you let out a quiet laugh, your eyes half-closed as you nestled against him. “cheeky bastard,” you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you relaxed into his arms. his warmth enveloped you, and you closed your eyes, letting the moment wrap around you like a gentle haze.

his lips curved into a smirk against your skin, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your back. “damn right i am,” he replied, his voice low and amused. he shifted in his chair, his muscular arms flexing as he pulled you even closer. you were practically pressed flush against him now, the heat of his body seeping through your skin, a comforting and exciting presence.

geto hums, a pleased sound that vibrates through his chest. his fingers continue their gentle, soothing motions, tracing invisible patterns on your skin, as if he’s trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body. “but i prefer the term ‘charming, irresistible bastard,’ thank you very much,” he replies jokingly. “and besides, you like it when i’m cheeky.”

a laugh escapes you as his words sink in, a warm, playful sound that melts into the air around you. “i don’t know where you got that idea,” you reply, your voice light with mock indignation. “i never said i liked it when you’re cheeky.”

but even as you deny it, your arms find their way around his bare waist, pulling yourself closer, and you can feel his warmth seeping into you, steady and grounding. the rhythmic beat of his heart thumps under your ear, a soothing lull that makes the rest of the world feel like it’s melting away.

with a soft, relieved sigh, you let yourself relax into him, the tension slowly leaving your body as you settle in his embrace. it’s moments like this—his warmth, his quiet hum, the way his fingers trace gentle patterns on your back���that remind you of how safe and at home you feel with him.

geto's lips curve into a satisfied smirk as he feels you relax against him, as if he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you. his arms wrap even tighter around you, enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

“mmm,” he murmurs, the sound of a low vibration in his chest. “deny it all you want, sweetheart. but we both know you secretly find my cheeky behavior adorable,” he punctuates his words with a light nip at your neck, a teasing gesture that sends a shiver through you.

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 2 | masterlist

-

Sweat beads on your brow as summer approaches its zenith. Its hottest point. You splurge on an iced caramel latte from the gas station on the way over and pick one up for John as well. Your arm is already stretched out when he opens the front door to let you in, offering it to him. 

“I, uh…thought you might want one as well,” you explain, stuttering through your words. Crumbling under his amused expression. 

You crave it though. His approval. That fond smile that seems reserved especially for you. The rare murmured good girl, his hand sometimes coming down to ruffle your hair. Even the memory of it makes your breath get lodged in your throat. You covet every crumb of it.

He takes the iced latte from you though before heading out for the day. Gift received. Even squeezes your shoulder in thanks before he shuts the door behind him, and you manage to keep from swooning until you hear his car pull out of the driveway. 

You stand by the window with the baby pressed to your chest for so little that you can’t blame when a little fist tugs at your hair. 

“Sorry, lovie,” you whisper into his fuzzy hair. Inhale deeply. 

It’s not as though you’re starved for things to do. Were John’s son a few years older, you might have your work cut out for you, but there’s still plenty to do around the house even when you put the baby down for his morning nap. You save the vacuuming for when baby is awake and you’re not in danger of hearing him suddenly start crying through the baby monitor, but you dust and fold laundry and start the dishwasher and take the recycling out and by the time the baby is ready for lunch, you’ve already broken a light sweat. 

Let no one tell you that babysitting is a walk in the park.

That being said, you do put the baby in his stroller for a walk in the park after lunch. 

The park isn’t terribly far from John’s house, so coupled with the short path around the park and the walk back, you’ll get a good amount of steps in today without risking the baby being late for his mid afternoon nap. 

It’s hard to not have an accidental, forbidden thought. Something like I wonder if anyone thinks I’m the baby’s mom when you push the stroller past a group of moms gathered together near the jungle gym, their kids sprinting on wobbly legs and climbing like dexterous little wildlings. 

Those thoughts are dangerous though, best kept under wraps. Clandestine. Because once you start having those thoughts, they never really go away; they just get relegated to a part of your brain that switches on when the lights go off and you think about what it must have been like to carry a baby in your stomach for nine months. 

You’re in danger, girl, a small voice in your head warns you. It’s hard to hear her clearly these days. 

John comes earlier for once, around midday. It takes you by surprise. You jump when the door opens, the sound ricocheting off the walls like a gunshot and, in that same second, a wave of terror and rage washes over you, your heart already racing at the thought of someone breaking in while it’s just you and the baby home. You spring to your feet, hands already trembling by your sides, and then his familiar shape walks into the room, boots still on and all.

He pauses when he sees your shoulders slump with relief. 

“Sorry,” you breathe, heart still racing. “I thought you were…” Your voice trails off towards the end because you don’t know how to say it without sounding silly. 

His eyes cut to the baby in the bouncy chair behind you, your body still stood protectively in front of him, and then they soften. 

“No, that’s on me—should’ve given you a ring before I left,” he says, a light apology in his voice. He throws his keys into the bowl in the foyer before stalking towards you. You stare up at him wide eyed, only blinking when he ruffles your hair before bypassing you to go pick up his son. 

“How’s my baby?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the baby’s milksoft cheek, and your heart spins and cartwheels in your chest. All sorts of tricks that keep you rooted in place, unable to manage a single word. “You been good today?”

I’ve been good, you almost croak out, the words on the tip of your tongue. You swallow. Force them back down. You’re not his baby. 

Another dinner invitation that you can’t turn down. Not because it wouldn’t be polite but because you couldn’t muster up the will to refuse even if you really did have plans. Lucky that you don’t. 

When he puts the baby down to sleep for the night, you linger by the door, sure you’re a platitude or two away from being shown out for the night. John calls your name from the kitchen though, drawing you deeper into the house again. 

“Go put something on,” he instructs when you idle under the archway of the door. With his back to you, you can’t make out the expression on his face, leaving you no choice but to gawp at the undulation of his shoulder muscles as he washes out the dishes before stacking them in the dishwasher. “You want something to drink?”

“Just, uh—” you rasp, clearing your throat. “Just juice, thanks.”

You can’t settle on anything to stream, nothing perking your interests; or maybe you’re just too antsy to make an informed decision on what to watch right now. 

There are other things to worry about. Like John moving around in the other room or the way your denim shorts ride up when you sit down, bunching up at the crotch. You make an attempt to lift your hips and pull them back down as much as you can, but you panic and abort your plan when John comes into the room, embarrassed at the thought of being caught readjusting yourself. 

The cushion under you bounces slightly when John drops himself down onto the couch beside you, the motion making your shorts ride up even more. You wince when the seam presses tight against your clit, on the edge of mildly painful and turning you on. 

“Here, sweetheart,” he says, putting his own drink down on the coffee table before handing you your glass of juice. 

“Thanks,” you bleat, taking a sip almost instantly to mask the look on your face, afraid he’ll read the panic there and press for details. 

He sits closer than usual, as he always does these days. It’s not something you ever discuss. It just seems to happen. Slowly, like ice sheets drifting over water. One day you’re sitting on opposite sides of the couch and the next he’s all up in your space, thigh to thigh with you while the living room goes dark and the TV glows, the reflection throbbing against the glass. An ever-flickering light that illuminates the side of his head when you peer up at him.

Your tongue rests against the roof of her mouth, dry; sparing.

With his arm resting on the back of the couch over your shoulder, the scent of him is almost smothering. Each inhale makes your head spin. If you were to tilt your head to the side, you’d be level with his armpit, his scent strongest there, and that thought spins in your head like a merry-go-round until someone in the movie you’re supposed to be watching shouts, dragging your attention back to it. 

“Christ, these are little, huh?” John grunts, suddenly reaching over to pinch the frayed ends of your shorts between his fingers. “This what the kids these days are wearing?” 

You don’t know how to respond to that. Your body’s so hot that you feel like you’re swimming in heat, sweat prickling at your hairline and on the back of your neck. 

“I-it’s hot out,” you stutter, your whole body suddenly hot. With how high your shorts have ridden up, his fingers are precariously close to your core, just a hairsbreadth from skimming up your inner thigh and brushing against your folds, now plump and sensitive. 

You wonder if he can make out the outline of your pussy from underneath your shorts. They hug into the seam of your legs, pinching the skin of your inner thighs. You don’t dare glance down. 

He hums, pulling his hand away and you stare wide eyed at the television in front of you when you shift and the glide between your legs tells you just how wet you are. Sitting on the couch next to your boss twice your age with a wet pussy. 

You lean forward to try and readjust, masking the movement by reaching blindly for your glass on the coffee table at the same time. You must pick up the wrong glass by accident though because when you go to lift it to your lips, John’s hand stops you, fingers curling around yours and easily tugging the glass away from your mouth. 

“No, baby, that’s mine; bit young for a drink, aren’t you?” John chuckles, eyes squinting with his smile. 

“I’m legal,” you frown, pouting. 

He acts like that sometimes; like he doesn’t keep track of how old you are. 

“All right, but only a sip, got it?” he cautions, handing you the glass. 

You don’t know why you take it. You would��ve been better admitting to your mistake and putting the glass back down. 

He chuckles when you wince on your sip, nearly spitting it up. Horrifically embarrassing because it’s not like you’ve never had a drink before. You’ve gone out for drinks plenty of times with friends. 

“Yeah,” he rasps, taking the glass from you and flicking his knuckle against your bottom lip as he does. “That’s what I thought.”

And it happens again and again. Head resting on his shoulder when you drift off on the couch before he shakes you awake. In the grocery store, he comes up behind you while you’re pushing the cart and puts his arms around to steer you down another aisle, his broad chest pressed against your back. 

You hold your tongue. Bite off and chew the words. Because it’s nothing; it’s innocent. You’ve known from the get-go that John is more of a man of action than words. If anything, you’re the one reading too much into things. Little touch-starved girl from the bad side of town. It’s not his fault that you preen when he praises you; that you bunt your head against his hand when he ruffles your hair. Every drop of affection soaked up, savoured. Nourishing your heart and your soul. So lonely, so wanting. All those years holed up on your own, no warm body in the bed beside you. 

Then John Price waltzed in and you expected to keep everything sealed up tight in your chest.

So it’s no wonder you gorge yourself on his touch and hope he doesn’t notice the way you lean into it. The rabbit-quick beat of your heart. Your want simmering under your skin, a disgusting, base thing desperate for gentleness. 

You wonder if he sees the same thing when he looks at you.

In the heat of summer, John invites you to join him and the baby for a weekend at the beach in Portugal.

You only say yes because it’s the dog days of summer. At the beach, there’ll be umbrellas to sit under and beer coolers of cold drinks and the ice cold Atlantic to swim in. Plus, you’ve had little opportunity in your life to travel—you’ve barely stepped foot in France, never mind Portugal. But John has friends with a house in the Algarve that have graciously offered him the week, so who are you to say no to such a thoughtful gesture? 

The only reason you consider not going is because you can’t shake the sense of foreboding. 

“Baby, can you get my back?” John asks when you arrive at the beach the first day of your trip, and when you turn back to him, you have to act quick to catch the sunscreen lobbed your way. 

That’s how you find yourself kneeling in the sand behind him, rubbing sunscreen on his back. His shoulders flex under your hands, and you can feel the muscle bunching and relaxing with each swipe across his shoulder blades. The worst is when you get to his low back. John’s groans are obscenely loud, guttural rumblings from the back of his throat. Ravenous. 

“Okay, that’s everything,” you chirp, rubbing the excess off on your thighs. 

“Good,” John says, twisting around. “Now it’s your turn.”

Your eyes widen.

“Wait—I don’t need to—”

You don’t know quite how he manages it, but a couple minutes later, you find yourself lying flat on your stomach on your beach towel, John squirting a good amount of sunscreen onto the middle of your back. All you get as a warning is the sunscreen bottle tossed to the ground beside your head before two big hands come down to your back to massage the cream into your skin. 

There’s nowhere for you to go when John throws a leg over your hips to straddle you. He holds the majority of his weight off you, but despite his best efforts, you can still feel his dick against your ass, his loose swim shorts doing nothing to hold him in place. 

He doesn’t ask for permission before undoing the knot holding your bikini top together, one quick pull and then the garment loosens around your chest. You can feel the fabric pool around you on the towel. 

“John, you—” you start, almost coming up onto your elbows before realizing that your top won’t be coming with you if you do. 

“Just gotta make sure I get your whole back, baby,” he reassures you, both hands gliding up your back to curve around your shoulders before dragging back down. “Won’t be more than a minute.”

It’s no use calling him out on the lie because there’s nothing you could do even if you did.

With hands as big as his, his fingers can’t help brushing the sides of your tits every time he smooths his hands down your back. You bite your lip nearly raw to keep from letting your moans escape, toes curling in the sand underneath you and thank god John is facing the other way or else your arousal would be clear as day to him. The gusset of your bathing suit is already damp and you haven’t even gotten in the water yet. 

His hands drag up and down your back, lathering the lotion into your skin, massaging it into the muscle. Each pass of his hands making your eyes roll back, breath coming out in choppy pants. Tweaking when the palms of his hands easily encompass your shoulders, nearly tickling under your arms.

“There we go. All done,” he announces, jolting you out of the lustful fog you’d slipped into during his ministrations. 

“All good?” you ask, a touch breathy. 

“Mhm,” John rumbles, smoothing a hand up your back one last time, just to double check. Only clenching your fists until the skin around your knuckles tighten keeps you from shuddering at his touch. “Lemme just—” 

Your throat constricts when you feel him reknot the back of your bikini top, fingers quick and deft for their size. He’s tied knots before. It’s better not to let that thought sink in too deep. 

Turning over onto your back takes a near insuperable amount of energy, the rest wrung from your body by the hands now preoccupied with readjusting his shorts. 

“You alright if I take him for a swim?” John asks, holding his squirming son against his bare chest. 

You wave him off, a hand coming up to shield your eyes from the sun. 

You can’t help but stare at his ass as he walks away, practically mesmerised. In the water, he wades up to his knees with his son still cradled in one arm. The ocean water laps at his shins, dappled with light, low waves in the distance scintillating at their peaks. The ends of his swim shorts cling to his legs as the water leaches into the fabric. 

Trying to keep your eyes off him is a losing game, not when John’s clad in nothing more than a pair of swim trunks, broad shoulders and chest on display, and now your hands tingle with the memory of how they felt rubbing suntan lotion over his skin. His trunks are pulled taut around thick thigh muscles, just barely loose enough to keep from being indecent. 

The panic returns when you catch some nearby women ogling him, one angling her body towards him like she’s considering walking over, and that’s when your heart beats too fast and you stumble to your feet, leaving your beach towel and umbrella behind to go join John in the water. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he greets when you’re only a few steps away, shivering when the cold water touches your feet. “Missed us, did ya?”

He reels you in with his free arm, pulling you into his side before transferring the baby into the cradle of your arms. Doesn’t even flinch when your breast is pressed against his side, as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary. As if your cheek wasn’t nearly flush with the pelt of dark hair growing in whorls on his chest, your eye level with a dark, flat nipple. 

The girls hovering nearby scrunch their noses up when they notice you snuggled up against John’s chest. Assuming you must be someone special for him to be holding you that way; like a girlfriend or a wife—

You choke off the rest of that thought before it can take root. 

The rest of the trip is no better. You’re a right mess made worse by the cloying heat and the forced proximity. At the restaurant, John pulls your chair out for you and then sits right beside you, arm resting on the back of your chair while he talks, cologne clotting the air around you. He’s popular wherever he goes—easy candour and winsome smile able to make anyone, from the servers to the other patrons, want to get to know him better. 

All you can do is bask in the radiance; a sun in the middle of any room. 

Back at the house, you sleep in the other room, only a single, flimsy wall between your room and John’s. The walls are so thin that you can hear every groan and snore and snuffle, head ringing with his sounds until you fall asleep and they permeate your dreams instead. 

At seven in the morning, you wake to the sound of him rolling over in his bed, the mattress squeaking under his weight, and taking himself in hand. The sound of flesh against flesh; the groans bitten off too late for you not to catch them, sweat beading on your hairline as you stare at the white wall and picture John on the other side, big chest panting with his breaths as he tugs on his cock. You listen until his final groan, fingers petting at your clit until you have no choice but to turn your head into your pillow to muffle your sobs. 

As best as you try to put it out of mind, you can’t meet his eyes at breakfast. 

You flinch when the same hand that he must’ve used to jerk himself off comes down onto the top of your head when John goes to refill his mug of coffee. “Sleep well last night?” he asks, deep voice still coated in sleep. 

“Not bad,” you whisper. 

Shivering when he drops his hand to the junction between your shoulder and your neck and gives it a squeeze.

[okwonyo]

DAYDREAM, 或 𓈒𓈒 not kissing them.

❛𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𓈒𓈒 ❜

𝒾 ⠀⦂ ⠀ 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f ╱ r! 13OO fluff ── non idol au skinship kissing ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ ( 𝑜𝑜𝑒𝑢𝑣𝑟𝑒𝑠 )

지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀whoever prayed for an okwonyo ot7 work ... hope you enjoy, luvdoll 💗

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

HESEUNG

his favorite part of the day, especially after a very long day of work, is definitely coming home to you. 

he loves to wrap his arms around your form and kiss you softly as a greeting before even speaking. he loves to rush towards you as soon as you open the door in the slightest.

his world totally collapses around him when you dare to dodge his kiss.

mind you, not only his world but his heart too. it drops to his stomach when he tries again and you just do it again. 

his stares at you for a moment. you watch his face slowly fall in a sad frown while you fight the urge to let out the loudest laugh ever. 

“are you mad at me?” the bambi lookalike of a man asks you. it would be like his eyes would grow even sadder and bigger the longer you stay silent, “did i do anything wrong?”

and his voice is so soft— softer than ever due to the tiredness. you sigh fond noises instantly: 

you hold his face softly, as if he was a porcelain doll. “no, hee,” you kiss his pretty nose. “it was just a joke.”

he doesn’t leave you alone afterwards.

JAY

he knows as soon as he sees the malicious look in your eyes.

“give me a kiss,” he tries to be as intimidating as possible— but he has to bite his inner cheek to not smile too widely. 

he leans in, you lean away. his hand on the middle of your back presses your body against his own. 

his soft lips peck your cheek when he tries to kiss you again and you turn your head away.

therefore, the man opts for anything he can kiss instead. his kisses fall against your face like raindrops on a summer night, wet and refreshing. his kisses everywhere soft jaw and gentle neck makes you giggle. 

“jay,” you chuckle. your boyfriend embraces your waist, tight, “no—” there is a giggle from you again. “stop, it tickles.”

of course, he doesn’t listen and you swear his kisses get even wetter by the second. a loud ‘mwah!’  escape from his mouth whenever his mouth finds your skin. 

his entire weight rests on you whereupon your back hits the couch, “give me a kiss.”

you laugh while you try to get him off, “okay, okay.” 

he leaves a loud smooch on your mouth.

JAKE

calmly laying on your back, the soft cushions underneath you, your fingers massage your boyfriend’s hair. 

his head rests on your chest, like a puppy. the way he hums as you move your fingertips tells you that he is so close to drift off and you think he is too calm to not bother a bit. 

you decide that you will start by progressively stopping playing with his hair. the weight of your fingers on his laps gets lighter, and he slowly fully wakes up as it does so. 

when you completely stop, he lifts his huge puppy eyes to you— his eyebrows slightly furrowed as if he was a kicked puppy. 

you pick a confused expression to put on your face, tilting your head slightly to the side before whispering, “what?” 

your boyfriend doesn’t respond— and because he is obvious— you can already predict his next move. 

he gets his lips closer to yours and you do the same. they are almost touching before you pull away by one centimeter. 

then, you pull closer again, to kiss him he thinks, before doing the same. over and over. 

it doesn’t last before he just whines and hides his face in the crook of your neck. 

SUNGHOON

“i am not kissing you,” you state to him. his face's enthusiastic expression drops to a confused frown. “i hope you know that.”

it seems like he is processing the thought of what you just said while you stare at him, arms crossed under your chest. it also seems like the thought never really crossed his mind.

“you are not?” he asks, as if to be sure. you shake your head. “but, why?” 

from the couch, you stare at him. he stands tall, well dressed, his hair are beyond gorgeous and he smells too good to be staying indoors. 

he is fully ready to go, really, if it wasn’t for his goodbye kiss.

“you remember last time?” you question. continuing when he starts to smirk. “you were late to work: again.” and you add, just so it goes through his thick skull. “because we ended up making out.” 

you swear, he can’t just keep his hands to himself for more than one second and it always ends up in a disaster. 

he is still grinning when he talks again, “okay,” he holds his hands in surrender, before putting them behind his back. “see, not touching you.” 

he takes a step closer to you and bends over to put his face, approximately, at the same level as yours, “just one kiss.”

(it ends up not being just one kiss.) 

SUNOO

his hand flies to his heart as soon as you jump away from him. 

to your defense, you weren’t even aware of any sort of presence close to you, and who even just waits behind someone for a kiss. 

you cover your face with your hands, your eyes grow wide— just as melodramatic as the utterly shocked face on the surface of his face.

when shock wears off, a laugh resonate right from deep in your chest, “i’m so sorry,” you tell, reaching for his hands. 

“leave me alone,” he mutters, even though he gladly lets you pull him closer to you. “i don’t want a kiss anymore.”

you giggle, his voice has no bite in it. you rest your hands on his broad shoulders and gets on your tiptoes to be able to plant a kiss on your lover’s cheek. 

you peck him several times, one kiss after the other, his pouty demeanor slowly fading. 

his smile is felt on your lips when you kiss him on the mouth like he was longing for.

JUNGWON

“c’mon,” he tells you, almost pleading with you. 

you are not mad nor annoyed at him, but you like to make him work a little to get what he wants. 

“leave me alone,” you tell him back, pushing him away in the slightest to get out of the kitchen. 

he doesn’t let you go very far anyway, holding your wrist and pulling you right back where you were standing a few moments prior. 

you try to get out of his grip but this man just fights back, “stop!” you chuckle as you try to kick his knee and he dodges it. 

he somehow succeeds in catching both of your wrists to pull you in his embrace and wraps his biceps around your form. his blonde hair brushes on your skin as he leans closer to you. 

you lean the most far you can, but he stills captures your lips with his. 

you think he fought hard enough for what he wants, so you relax in his arms and smooch him back.

RIKI

this boy doesn’t really react when you refuse to kiss him for some—very annoying and stupid, he would qualify— reasons. he just lets it slide, surprisingly smoothly, to your surprise. 

what you are not aware of is that he thinks about it for days, weeks even, at night. looking for the day he can do the same to you.

because, yes, your boyfriend is petty like that. 

so here you are, going in for a kiss. the boy looks at you, waiting for you to be a little close. enough to feel his breath on your mouth. 

he swipes his head away when you almost reach him.

“are you serious?” you huff, incredulously and he ignores you. narrowing your eyes, you stare at him before shrugging, “fine.” 

he looks at the other with his arms crossed and a sulky demeanor until he realizes you are actually not going to kiss him again.

“wait no,” he turns to you, holding your arm to get your attention. “i was joking, come back.”

ㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[madamechrissy]

Yandere Bully! Gojo - Part 2

Ya'll have been asking for part 2 so here it is! Disclaimer- bullies suck- yandere shit, degradation, nsfw, lots of Bully Gojo harassing the reader tbh, misogyny, possessive, name calling, rough sex, videoing against consent, oral (m and f receiving) don't read if not your thing (college au) say hi to Geto- (Part one here!)

Bully! Gojo who saw you flirting with your classmate in Physics, pouting the entire time, since you finally got annoyed by him and are now completely ignoring him. Now he's glaring with those icy blue eyes, and you can damn near feel his touch on your skin.

Bully! Gojo who yanks on your ponytail hard after class lets out, making you bend backwards, his other hand shutting the classroom door, locking it. Your heart races as you glare back at him. 'what the fuck do you want, Satoru?' he laughs then, arms barring you on either side. 'you're trying to make me mad, aren't you baby?' you scoff, turning as he leans down, so goddamn tall, you ignore that tension in your tummy.

Bully! Gojo who says 'you know that pretty little cunt belongs to me' he's slipped his hand down your tummy, it trembles under his touch, then he's got you right between your thighs, his fingers slipped right under your pleated skirt. 'it d-doesn't, we don't even date, you're just a jerk!' you shove him then, and he smirks, running his fingers over your panties, already sticky from his touch. 'then why are you so wet baby?'

Bully! Gojo who now has you on the teacher's desk, your thighs spread, spitting on your bare pussy, your thong is already in his pocket of course, he'll use it later. You've been a brat for weeks ignoring him, and he's done, he's now watching the bubbly liquid ooze onto your little clit smirking as you jerk, your cheeks all flushed with anger, eyes dilated with want. 'you know you need me, you're so slutty f'me, hmm?' you feel the hot spit hit you, breasts yanked out of your blouse, he sucks on one of your nipples, you wish your hands weren't sinking in his silky white hair... but... 'f-fuck you... Satoru...'

Bully! Gojo who scowls now, shoving two fingers in your soppy little cunt, stretching you out and making your head fall back. 'no more flirting, aha listen how loud your stupid little pussy is, she missed me' he cooes, scissoring his fingers in and out of your wetness now. you hear your pussy and the squelching wetness as his long fingers curl inside you, pressing on that spot. You're stifling a cry by shoving a hand on your mouth, he just chuckles, blue eyes fucking insane 'no baby, make noise, let em hear who this pussy belongs to' then starts lapping at your clit with his stupidly long tongue, quick flicks that overstimulate you so fast, you're struggling not to scream when he sucks it into his mouth, looking up at you under snowy lashes.

Bully! Gojo who is soon covered in your slick as you cum all over his stupidly pretty face, orgasm wrecking your mind like it always does with this asshole. Satoru pulls back with half his face glistening, pressing against you and pulling your hair so hard tears prick in your eyes, looking down at you. 'pathetic little slut, you're all mine, admit it' you just reach for his cock, he smacks your hand. 'no dick for you till you beg good enough, got me!? and tell that boy you don't fucking like him.'

Bully! Gojo who grins deviously when he watches you break that poor boys heart, stomping away with your arms crossed as you walk by him, heading to the bathroom with tears in your pretty eyes. Fuck he loves when you cry. so he decides to follow you in the bathroom now, busting right in your stall, much to your panic, grinning at you. 'aw, you cryin?' you scowl, standing then. 'fuck you Gojo!' so he decides to take you up on that, going to slide your panties down again, and you yank them away before he can steal them, only for him to shove them in your mouth instead.

Bully! Gojo who now has you picked up against the bathroom stall door, mean tip of his cock bullying it's way into your tight, gummy little walls, so slick you're already gushing when he sinks in. You're crying out, mouth muffled around the fabric, so you go to yank those panties out of your mouth, that won't do at all for Satoru, so he decides you grab your wrists together, putting them over your head as he fucks into you. He's wrecking your cervix, grinning like a goddamn psycho. 'so weak, aren't you? Just look at you, stupid slut getting fucked even more stupid. Aw you're even drooling! cute.'

Bully! Gojo who the next day corners you against your locker, lifting up your skirt and peeking, whistling as you smack at him 'no panties, fuck you're slutty' for you to huff 'well you keep stealing them, you fucking psycho!' he chuckles at you again, grabbing your bare ass as you stomp away. Later in class he's leaning close, stealing your answers, you stomp on his foot under the desk, then tense when he scowls, leaning close and whispering in your ear 'get me an A or I'm fucking your throat so hard you won't be able to fucking swallow'

Bully! Gojo who got a B from copying you, because you honestly did it on purpose, and now you're in his dorm room, choking on his cock, he's so deep in your throat he can see the bulge, moaning at the sight. You're on your back on his bed, head hanging off the edge, he's smacking your titties over and over, watching them jiggle as he fucks you and starts talking shit, when does he shut up!? 'stupid little brat, can't even get an A huh? Baby that just won't do, I need you to- ah fuck that tight throat mmm- need you to- f-fuck!'

Bully! Gojo who pulls out of your sore throat, cumming all over your pretty tits now, you gasp for breath, coughing as he does, laughing now, squirts of sticky white ropes all over your breasts, your tummy. You weakly get up with no help of his, only for him to start taking pictures of you, earning your glare. 'gonna share these next time you flirt with anyone' he threatens, but he never would of course, well maybe with Suguru, but you gasp, standing and smacking him in the face, only making him hard again, earning you bent over his bed, with your wrists tied together by his tie, as he begins to smack your pretty ass, over and over, leaving handprints, 'looks like this greedy pussy wants cum in her, huh?'

Bully! Gojo who ends up making you beg for his cock in you, fingering you over and over without letting you cum, he keeps getting you right to that edge then yanking them out, breathing right on your cunt and laughing against your puffy lips, overstimmed from his playing, and he's talking to your pussy directly 'she's such a fuckin brat, but you, oh I love you. Such a good girl f'me' and then he kisses her with a 'muah' as you're crying, tears hot and sticky down your cheeks, cunt throbbing around nothing. 'Toru... please' you whine out, and he sighs now, finally rubbing his tip between your slit.

Bully! Gojo who loves when you call him Toru, it just does something to him, not that he'll tell you though, instead 'oh fine, since you're just so pathetic, needy... begging...' and shoves his cock deep inside you, full nine inches so deep and thick you struggle to take it, so fucking full, and he's moaning, thumbs pressing into the dimples on your back. 'you love this fuckin cock, don't you?' 'n-no, you don't even date me you dick ah!' Satoru is now fucking you even harder, and you swear you hear your bully whimper as your walls flutter around his veiny length, dripping down to his balls that are smacking your clit.

Bully! Gojo who busts a load of cum in you, moaning as you cum with him, so hard you're already pushing his cum back out, thighs trembling, he laughs then, as you're weakly just half laid on his bed, before he's videoing you, playing with the cum pouring out of your little hole. 'I think I need to show Suguru this, baby' 'Suguru! what!?' he's chuckling as he hits send and you hear the bling of a message when Satoru releases the tie, turning you around and planting a kiss on your lips, so sweet, like he wasn't a complete bully ass hole. 'To Suguru, really!'

Bully! Gojo who smirks as there is a knock on the door, and who is it but your old high school bully, Bully! Geto, who smirks down at you as he studies your naked body hungrily, you cover your tits up now, making Satoru grin as he yanks your hands down. 'I need some help teaching you a lesson baby' you glare at them now, and Suguru licks his lower lip, violet eyes glinting 'fuck you really look good, finally filled out huh?' you flip him off, and now Satoru is spreading your thighs as Suguru is behind you, holding you, tongue slipping up your neck to your ear.

Bully! Gojo who's lapping his own cum out of your pussy, as Bully! Geto is squishing your breasts with his big hands, moaning, you try to close your legs, sore and so oversensitive, but Suguru holds them completely open, leaving you to Satoru's mercy, as he's swirling his tongue in and out of your pussy, and you're screaming out, feeling Suguru's cock hard and thick under you, scowling up at him. 'hate you, Sugu. Hate you Toru.' they both laugh at you, now Satoru's smacking your wet pussy, and Suguru's hand is wrapped around your throat 'see she needs teaching' Satoru says, before nipping at your clit, making you jolt, and Suguru is kissing your mouth, even as you bite his lower lip, 'don't worry, I'll help'

Bully! Gojo and Bully! Geto who the next day at school watch a guy grab your ass, only for them both to beat the brakes off him, as you watch curiously, the six foot three men fighting someone over you, for a moment you melt, but then they have you cornered later in the hallway, Suguru has your books up high and Satoru is sliding up your skirts, you smack at them and realize you still hate them, even if their dicks will be inside you later.

Well now reader has two bullies, poor thing lol- remember, bullies SUCK and none of this is cool, it's only okay bc it's Gojo and Geto lmao

[sunrenity]

⟡ㅤㅤCOMPASSㅤ┈─ㅤ엔하이픈

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ( 🎞 )ㅤㅤi might get lost without you

precis : you're their compass.

엔하이픈ㅤ୨୧ㅤenhypen x 𝒻em readerㅤ..ㅤest relationship, tooth-rotting fluffㅤ/ㅤidol au! for heeseung, 600-700 words per memberㅤㅤ( 4883 )

zehra's note.ㅤmight be in my thenbhd era

LEE HEESEUNG

the world was always loud around lee heeseung. the chaos of his daily life—practices, interviews, schedules—felt like a hurricane he could never quite escape. yet somehow, in the midst of it all, you were his constant.

heeseung always said you were like his north star.

“it’s cheesy,” he’d chuckle, running a hand through his hair as you sat across from him in your tiny favorite café. his face would light up in the way it always did when he teased you, dimples pressing deep into his cheeks. “but i mean it. without you, i’d just... drift.”

today was no different. you were seated together at a secluded corner table, the kind he requested specifically so no one would recognize him. a cup of steaming caramel latte sat untouched between his hands, growing colder by the second as he focused entirely on you. his gaze was warm, dark eyes soft as they traced your every move.

“you’re staring again, heeseung,” you teased, peering over the rim of your cup.

“can’t help it,” he admitted easily, leaning closer. his elbows rested on the table as his face inched toward yours, the faintest scent of his cologne lingering in the air. “you’re the only thing that makes sense these days.”

the weight of his words hung heavy between you, but not uncomfortably so. you knew what he meant, even if he wasn’t saying it outright. he didn’t need to. heeseung had always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. every stolen glance, every gentle touch, every unspoken smile—it all told you the same story.

he needed you.

and it wasn’t in the dramatic, overbearing way some might imagine. heeseung wasn’t looking for someone to fix him or carry his burdens. he just needed you to remind him that amidst the chaos, there was still something real. something steady. something that felt like home.

“i think you give me too much credit,” you murmured, setting your drink down and meeting his gaze head-on.

“not possible,” he countered without missing a beat. “you’re the reason i know which way to go, even when i feel lost. like that time—”

he paused, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“what?” you prompted, leaning in slightly.

“remember the night before the showcase? when i was freaking out about forgetting the choreography?”

you nodded, vividly recalling the way he had paced back and forth in his living room, muttering steps under his breath until his voice cracked from exhaustion.

“you didn’t even flinch,” he continued, the fondness in his tone evident. “you just sat there, listening, and then dragged me out for ice cream at 2 a.m. like it was the most normal thing in the world.”

you laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “you needed to get out of your own head. that’s all.”

heeseung shook his head, his smile widening. “no, i needed you.”

it wasn’t the first time he’d said it, and you doubted it would be the last. but every time he did, it felt like a little thread tying you closer to him, weaving your lives together in a way that felt impossible to undo.

“you know,” he said after a moment, reaching across the table to brush his fingers against yours, “i don’t tell you enough how much i appreciate you.”

your breath hitched slightly at the tenderness in his voice. it was rare for heeseung to let his walls down completely, but when he did, it always felt like a privilege to witness.

“you don’t have to,” you replied, curling your fingers around his. “i already know.”

he smiled then, the kind of smile that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

in that moment, you realized that being his compass didn’t mean guiding him to a destination. it meant being the place he could return to, no matter how far he wandered. and as his fingers tightened around yours, you knew you’d be that for him—always.

PARK JONGSEONG

it was almost comical how park jay always seemed to know what he was doing. he was the kind of person who made the world look effortless, like he had it all figured out. from his perfectly timed jokes to the confident way he carried himself, people assumed he never faltered. but you knew better. 

beneath the cool exterior, jay was just as lost as anyone else. maybe even more so. 

he’d told you that once, late one autumn night as the two of you sat on the hood of his car. the air was crisp, tinged with the earthy smell of fallen leaves, and the sky stretched endlessly above you, scattered with stars. jay’s jacket was draped over your shoulders, warm and slightly oversized, while he leaned back, one leg propped up on the bumper and the other dangling lazily. 

“i don’t know where i’m going half the time,” he admitted, his voice low and quiet, like the confession wasn’t meant to reach anyone but you. 

you turned to him then, his profile illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlight. his expression was unreadable, but you saw the vulnerability in his eyes—the kind he rarely let anyone see. 

“you always seem like you do,” you said softly. 

he chuckled, the sound dry and humorless. “that’s the trick, isn’t it? make it look like you’ve got it all together so no one bothers asking questions.” 

it was such a jay thing to say, and yet it broke your heart a little. because while everyone else saw the polished version of him, you saw the cracks. the uncertainty. the quiet ache of someone who was searching for something he couldn’t quite name. 

“you don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

he glanced at you then, his dark eyes locking onto yours like he was searching for something. and maybe he found it, because his shoulders relaxed just a little, and the corners of his mouth lifted in the faintest hint of a smile. 

“that’s why i need you,” he said simply. 

the words settled between you, heavy with meaning. you didn’t respond right away, unsure of how to articulate the warmth spreading through your chest. jay wasn’t the type to say things he didn’t mean, and you knew this was as close to a confession as he’d ever get. 

“where are we going tonight?” you asked instead, breaking the silence. 

he smiled then, a real one this time, and it was the kind of smile that made you feel like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. 

“does it matter?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you. 

you shook your head, a small laugh escaping your lips. “no, i guess it doesn’t.” 

and it was true. being with jay always felt like enough, no matter where you ended up. whether it was on an aimless drive through the city, sprawled out on the living room floor listening to records, or sitting in comfortable silence as the world moved on around you—he made every moment feel significant. 

maybe that’s why he called you his compass. not because you showed him where to go, but because you reminded him that the destination didn’t matter as long as he had you by his side. 

“you know,” he said suddenly, breaking your train of thought, “i think you’re the only person who gets me.” 

you turned to him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “that’s not true.” 

“it is,” he insisted, his gaze unwavering. “no one else makes me feel... grounded. like i’m not just floating around, waiting for something to happen.” 

there it was again—that honesty he reserved only for you. it was overwhelming at times, the way he opened up to you so completely, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

“i’m glad i can be that for you,” you said finally, your voice soft but steady. 

he reached for your hand then, his fingers warm against yours despite the cool night air. his touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid you might pull away.

but you didn’t.

instead, you held on tighter, letting him know without words that you weren’t going anywhere. 

because if jay was lost, you’d be his guide. and if he ever doubted where he belonged, you’d remind him. 

you were his compass, after all. and he was your home.

SIM JAEYUN

jake was always moving. whether it was the way he gestured enthusiastically as he spoke or how he could never stay in one place for too long, there was a restless energy to him that you couldn’t help but admire. he was a whirlwind of spontaneity, someone who craved adventure and thrived on the unknown. 

but even whirlwinds need somewhere to land. 

jake often joked that you were his anchor. 

“if i didn’t have you, i’d probably end up in the middle of nowhere without a clue how i got there,” he’d say, laughing as he tossed his arm around your shoulders. the way he looked at you, though, made you think there was more truth to it than he let on. 

today was one of those rare moments when jake wasn’t moving. you sat together at the edge of a quiet lake, its surface rippling gently in the breeze. the sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the water and painting the world in warm, honeyed hues. 

jake leaned back on his elbows, legs stretched out in front of him as he gazed at the horizon. his golden-brown hair glinted in the light, messy from the wind, and his lips curved into a soft smile as he turned to you. 

“do you ever feel like you’re not sure where you’re going?” he asked suddenly, his voice quieter than usual. 

you glanced at him, caught off guard by the question. jake was usually so sure of himself, so carefree. but in that moment, there was a vulnerability in his expression that made your heart ache. 

“sometimes,” you admitted, pulling your knees to your chest. “but i think that’s normal.” 

he nodded, his gaze drifting back to the water. “it’s just... sometimes it feels like no matter how far i go or how many places i see, i’m still looking for something i can’t find.” 

there was a pause, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but filled with unspoken thoughts. 

“and when you’re with me?” you asked softly. 

jake’s head snapped toward you, his eyes widening slightly as if he hadn’t expected the question. but then his expression softened, and a small, almost shy smile tugged at his lips. 

“when i’m with you,” he said, his voice steady, “it feels like i’ve already found it.” 

your breath caught at the sincerity in his tone. jake had always been charming, always quick with a joke or a playful comment, but this was different. this was real. 

“jake...” 

he sat up then, leaning closer until his face was mere inches from yours. his dark eyes searched yours, warm and steady despite the uncertainty he’d just confessed. 

“you’re the only thing that makes sense,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “even when everything else feels... chaotic.” 

it wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, but it was the first time it felt so raw, so open. jake wasn’t one to dwell on heavy emotions, but when it came to you, he never held back. 

“maybe that’s because you’re always running,” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. “you don’t give yourself time to just be.” 

jake chuckled, the sound soft and warm. “maybe. but if i stopped running, i wouldn’t have found you.” 

the weight of his words settled over you, wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket. jake had a way of saying things that made you feel like the most important person in the world, like you were the reason the stars hung in the sky. 

“besides,” he added, a playful glint returning to his eyes, “you’re the one who keeps me on track. my compass, remember?” 

you rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “you’re ridiculous.” 

“ridiculously lucky,” he shot back, leaning in to nudge your shoulder with his. 

you laughed, the sound echoing across the lake, and jake’s smile widened in response. in that moment, it didn’t matter where he was going or what he was searching for. all that mattered was that he was here, with you, and for once, the restlessness inside him had quieted. 

because with you, jake didn’t feel lost. he felt found.

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon wasn’t someone who expressed himself easily. words didn’t come naturally to him, at least not the kind that bared his heart. but you’d always known how to read between the lines, to find meaning in the silences where others might see emptiness. 

he said it once, offhandedly, that you were like his compass. 

“i just... think better when you’re around,” he’d muttered, his voice quiet as his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his jacket. his cheeks had turned a faint pink as he avoided your eyes, but the admission lingered, warm and sweet. 

now, standing at the edge of a frozen lake, you watched sunghoon skate effortlessly across the ice. he moved like the winter wind—graceful, sure, yet untouchable. the early evening light glinted off the smooth surface, painting his figure in soft shades of gold and blue. 

you stood bundled in your coat and scarf, shivering slightly as you watched him circle back toward you. he stopped a few feet away, the blades of his skates slicing cleanly into the ice, sending a spray of frost into the air. 

“cold?” he asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern. 

“a little,” you admitted, smiling as you rubbed your gloved hands together. “but it’s worth it to see you like this. you’re amazing out there.” 

his gaze flickered down, and for a moment, you thought you saw a hint of a smile on his lips. sunghoon wasn’t one for grand reactions, but you’d learned to notice the small ones—the way his shoulders relaxed when you complimented him, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you. 

“come here,” he said, holding out his hand. 

you hesitated, glancing at your boots. “i’m not exactly a skating prodigy like you, sunghoon. i’ll probably fall on my face.” 

his lips twitched upward, the faintest ghost of a smile. “i won’t let you.” 

something about the quiet confidence in his voice made you believe him. tentatively, you reached for his hand, and he pulled you gently onto the ice. his touch was firm but careful, as if he were afraid of hurting you. 

“just relax,” he said, his other hand coming to rest lightly on your waist. “i’ve got you.” 

and he did. as he guided you across the ice, his movements slow and deliberate, you felt the tension in your body melt away. the world around you faded, leaving only the quiet sound of skates gliding and the warmth of his hands steadying you. 

“you make this look so easy,” you said, glancing up at him. 

“it’s not as hard as it looks,” he replied, his tone calm. “you just have to trust yourself.” 

you raised an eyebrow. “is that what you do?” 

his lips curved slightly, a soft laugh escaping him. “sometimes.” 

the honesty in his voice surprised you. sunghoon rarely admitted to uncertainty—it wasn’t his style. but in moments like this, when it was just the two of you, he let his guard down in a way that made your heart ache. 

“hey,” you said gently, squeezing his hand. “you don’t have to have it all figured out, you know.” 

he looked at you then, his dark eyes meeting yours. for a moment, it felt like the whole world had gone still. 

“you make it easier,” he said softly. 

the words were simple, but the weight behind them wasn’t lost on you. sunghoon wasn’t someone who spoke in grand declarations or flowery phrases, but when he said something, he meant it. 

“you’re my compass,” he added after a pause, his voice quieter now. “even when i don’t know where i’m going, i know i’ll be okay as long as you’re with me.” 

your chest tightened at the raw vulnerability in his words. this was the sunghoon only you got to see—the boy who felt deeply but struggled to express it, who showed his love in actions rather than words. 

“i’m not going anywhere,” you said, your voice steady. “i promise.” 

his lips twitched again, and this time the smile reached his eyes. it was small, almost shy, but it was real. 

“good,” he said, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. 

together, you continued to glide across the ice, his hand never leaving yours. and in that moment, it didn’t matter where the world took him or how lost he might feel at times. because no matter what, you’d be there to guide him. 

just as he always guided you.

KIM SUNOO

sunoo had a way of brightening every space he entered. it wasn’t just the brilliance of his smile or the warmth in his eyes—it was something deeper, something unexplainable. he carried an energy that made you feel like, no matter how lost you were, everything was going to be okay. 

but even someone like sunoo had his shadows. 

the two of you walked side by side along a winding path in the park, the world around you cloaked in a soft, rolling fog. the trees loomed like quiet sentinels, their skeletal branches weaving into the pale gray sky. your breath puffed out in faint clouds, mingling with the damp air, and the faint crunch of leaves beneath your boots was the only sound breaking the silence. 

sunoo was quiet today. 

it wasn’t like him. normally, he’d fill the space with chatter—little stories about his day, playful teasing, or random observations that made you laugh. but now, his hands were shoved into his pockets, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. 

“sunoo?” you said softly, glancing at him. 

he hummed in acknowledgment, but he didn’t meet your gaze. 

“is everything okay?” 

for a moment, he didn’t answer. the fog seemed to press in closer, the world shrinking around you. then he sighed, the sound soft and almost hesitant. 

“do you ever feel like... like you’re not enough?” he asked, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. 

the question hit you like a sudden gust of wind, unexpected and disorienting. sunoo—the boy who radiated confidence and joy—felt this way? 

“sunoo,” you said gently, stopping in your tracks. he paused too, turning to face you with a tentative look in his eyes. 

“you’re more than enough,” you said firmly. 

he blinked, surprised by the conviction in your voice. “you don’t understand,” he murmured, looking away. “sometimes, it feels like no matter how hard i try, i’m always falling short. like... like i’m just faking it, and one day, everyone’s going to realize.” 

his words trailed off, and you saw the vulnerability etched into his expression. it broke your heart to see him like this, so uncertain, so fragile. 

“you’re not faking it,” you said, stepping closer. “you’re incredible, sunoo. you’re kind and thoughtful, and you make people feel seen and loved in a way no one else can.” 

he opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off. 

“and even when you’re feeling like this—when you’re doubting yourself—you’re still enough. more than enough.” 

sunoo stared at you, his eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. then, slowly, a small, almost hesitant smile broke across his face. 

“you always know what to say,” he said softly. 

you shook your head, returning his smile. “it’s not about knowing what to say. i just know you. and i know how special you are, even if you don’t see it right now.” 

the fog around you seemed to lighten, the world growing a little brighter. sunoo’s smile grew, and this time, it reached his eyes, chasing away the lingering shadows. 

“thank you,” he said quietly. 

“you don’t have to thank me,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. “just... let me remind you whenever you forget, okay?” 

he nodded, squeezing your hand gently. “okay.” 

the two of you started walking again, the path ahead still shrouded in mist but somehow feeling less daunting. sunoo’s hand stayed in yours, his grip warm and steady. 

you were his compass, even if he didn’t realize it. and just like he lit up the world for everyone else, you’d be the light that guided him through his darkest moments. 

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon was a quiet storm. he wasn’t loud or overly expressive, but everything about him carried a subtle intensity—a calm, steady rhythm that grounded you when the world felt chaotic. 

you often thought of him as the anchor that kept you steady. but if you asked him, he’d say the same about you. 

it was a rare rainy afternoon, the kind where the sky was more silver than gray, and the soft patter of raindrops created a soothing melody against the windows. the two of you sat on the floor of his small living room, a blanket draped over your shoulders as you shared the space in easy silence. the warm glow of a single lamp painted everything in soft hues, turning the mundane into something quietly magical. 

jungwon sat across from you, his legs crossed and his fingers absently toying with the edge of the blanket you shared. his dark hair was slightly mussed, and his sweater looked a size too big, the sleeves brushing his knuckles as he moved. 

“what are you thinking about?” you asked, breaking the silence. 

his gaze flickered up to meet yours, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smile. “you always ask me that.” 

“because you always look like you’re lost in thought,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your foot. 

he chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, like the first sip of hot tea on a cold day. “maybe i just like thinking when i’m with you.” 

the casual sincerity of his words made your breath catch. that was the thing about jungwon—he didn’t need grand gestures or flowery words to make you feel special. he did it in the little things, the quiet moments. 

“what about right now?” you pressed gently. “what are you thinking about right now?” 

he hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands. for a moment, you thought he might deflect, but then he surprised you. 

“i was thinking about how... steady everything feels when you’re here,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “like, no matter what’s going on, i know i’ll be okay if i’m with you.” 

your heart swelled at his confession, and you leaned forward, resting your chin on your knees as you watched him. “jungwon...” 

he glanced up, his dark eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability that he rarely showed. “you’re my compass,” he continued, his voice steadier now. “you remind me where i’m supposed to be, even when i start to lose track of myself.” 

the honesty in his words left you momentarily speechless. jungwon wasn’t the type to bare his emotions so openly, but when he did, it was with a quiet strength that left no room for doubt. 

“you’re where you’re supposed to be,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “and you’re doing just fine, jungwon. more than fine.” 

he exhaled a quiet laugh, his fingers tightening around yours. “i don’t always feel that way.” 

“that’s okay,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. “you don’t have to have it all figured out. that’s what i’m here for, remember?” 

his smile widened, and for a moment, the room felt warmer, brighter. jungwon had a way of making the simplest moments feel profound, as if the world slowed down just for the two of you. 

“thank you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. 

“for what?” you asked, tilting your head. 

“for being you,” he said simply. 

the rain continued to fall outside, its rhythm steady and soothing. and as you sat there, your hands entwined and the world quiet around you, you realized that jungwon wasn’t just your anchor—he was the steady rhythm you didn’t know you needed. 

and you? you were his compass, guiding him gently back to himself every time he lost his way.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki wasn’t one to say what he felt outright. his emotions weren’t something he wore on his sleeve, nor did he hand them out freely to the world. to most people, he was an enigma—a mix of sharp wit and quiet confidence, always keeping others at arm’s length. 

but not with you. 

you had a way of getting past his defenses, slipping through the cracks in his armor like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. you didn’t push or pry; you simply stayed, steady and unwavering, until he let you in. 

tonight, the two of you found yourselves at the edge of the city, sitting on the hood of his car with the skyline sprawled out below. the faint hum of distant traffic filled the cool night air, and the stars above blinked faintly against the darkness. 

riki leaned back on his elbows, his long legs stretched out before him. his dark hair fell loosely over his forehead, and the soft glow of the city lights painted his sharp features in shades of silver and gold. he was quiet tonight, his usual playful banter replaced by a contemplative stillness. 

“you’ve been quiet,” you remarked, glancing over at him. 

he smirked faintly, tilting his head to look at you. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

“it’s not,” you replied, your lips curving into a small smile. “just unusual.” 

he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “guess i’ve got a lot on my mind.” 

you waited, giving him the space to continue if he wanted to. with riki, patience was key. he wasn’t someone who spilled his thoughts easily, but when he did, it was worth every second of the wait. 

“i’ve been thinking about us,” he said finally, his voice low and steady. 

the admission caught you off guard, and your heart skipped a beat. “oh?” you said softly, your gaze locking onto his. 

he sat up then, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared out at the skyline. “i’ve always been good at figuring things out—what i want, where i’m going. but with you...” he trailed off, his brows furrowing slightly as he searched for the right words. 

“with me?” you prompted gently. 

“with you, it’s different,” he said, turning to meet your eyes. “you make me feel... anchored. like no matter where i’m going, it doesn’t matter as long as you’re there.” 

the vulnerability in his voice sent a wave of warmth through you. riki wasn’t someone who opened up easily, and hearing him say those words felt like he was handing you a piece of his heart. 

“you know,” you began, a soft smile tugging at your lips, “you’re not as hard to figure out as you think.” 

he raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “oh, really?” 

“really,” you said, leaning slightly closer. “you act all cool and aloof, but deep down, you care more than you let on. you just don’t like showing it.” 

his smirk widened, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “you think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?” 

“pretty much,” you teased, your smile growing. 

he shook his head, but the amusement in his expression was unmistakable. “you’re something else, you know that?” 

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you quipped, your tone light. 

“it is,” he said quietly, his voice taking on a more serious note. “you make me... better. i don’t know how else to say it, but you do. you’re like my compass or something. you remind me where i’m supposed to be, even when i lose sight of it myself.” 

the sincerity in his words made your chest tighten. for all his teasing and confidence, riki had a depth to him that he didn’t show to just anyone. but here, under the vast expanse of the night sky, he was letting you see it. 

“you’re not as lost as you think you are,” you said softly, your gaze steady. “but i’ll always be here, just in case you need reminding.” 

for a moment, he didn’t say anything. then, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours before entwining them together. his grip was firm, steady, but there was a gentleness to it that made your heart flutter. 

“good,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “because i don’t think i ever want to figure things out without you.” 

the city lights continued to shimmer in the distance, the hum of the world fading into the background. and as the two of you sat there, hand in hand, it was clear that neither of you needed a map or a plan. 

because wherever you went, you’d always be his true north.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

The JJK men want YOU to wear their jersey

Tags: JJK men x fem!Reader, college au, sports au, mostly fluff and/or crack, suggestive only on Toji’s (nasty bitch), itafushi makes an appearance

An: This has been heavy on my brain recently 🙂‍↕️ Also, I don’t know if this concept is only in like my area, but basically, the concept is that on game days, a common thing for highschool/college players to do is to wear their jersey to class, and their sweetheart wears their home/away jersey. it’s just a cute thing to show support. Another thing, I know Kamo is not Choso’s last name, and I know Sukuna is not Sukuna’s last name. Sukuna might not even be Sukuna’s name at all. idk and idc. this is a no curse au anyways so who cares! let me know if i should do more sports au :)

Incl - Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso, Toji, Sukuna

SATORU

Girls will literally hunt Satoru down to get his jersey from him, and if you were the lucky girl who got to wear the jersey of the star quarterback… you either became instantly popular, or every girl in the university wanted to kill you.

“I’m sorry, ladies. I already have someone in mind.” Satoru flashed a grin towards the crowd of girls surrounding his seat. Disappointed sighs and whines emitted from the group as they slowly dissipated from his desk.

Satoru couldn’t care less. They could be mad at him if they wanted to. They were no where near as special as the girl he had his eyes set on.

Class had yet to start, and Satoru was growing tired of just staring at the back of your head. He finally got up, and he slumped down in the chair next to you.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked with a bright smile. He hadn’t interacted with you much, but he always had his eye on you. You were the one of the few girls who didn’t dumb down their intelligence for him to make themselves more appealing.

“It’s not.” You replied shortly. You weren’t rude, just incredibly matter-of-fact.

“Wanna make a bet with me?” Satoru asked as he tried to catch your eyes from your book. He was really pining for your attention, and you wouldn’t pass him a second glance.

“Not really.” You replied, not looking up from your book.

“I bet the professor will be twenty minutes late.” Satoru went on anyways, not taking your rejection to heart.

“Hmm. Doubtful. He’s normally prompt.” You say finally looking up at Satoru, which causes him to flash an easy smile. He’s happy to have your attention — now he wants to keep it.

“If he isn’t here within the next twenty minutes, you have to wear my jersey today and every game day for the rest of the season. If he makes it here before twenty minutes is up, I’ll buy you as many books as you can carry.” Satoru proposes as he taps on your book with a cheeky grin.

You think for a moment… all the books you can carry?? “Deal.” You say with a smile, offering your hand to him to shake on it — thinking you just easily won yourself a free shopping spree. Satoru takes your hand, and he gently shakes it before bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

He’s already won.

Satoru knows that you’ll be wearing his jersey today, and you’ll wear his colors for the rest of the season. He’ll make more bets… win you over slowly with false bets. Oh, he’ll buy you all those books you want too just because he can.

He’s already set Geto in motion to go run into your professor with large cups of coffees in his hand. Your professor ended up cancelling class after being 25 minutes late.

When the group of girls sees you with “GOJO” written on the back of your jersey, their faces contort in utter disdain, but Satoru looks at it with a shit-eating grin on his face. He won.

SUGURU

Suguru really didn’t get the thing about giving a girl his jersey on game days. Basketball season is pretty ruthless. While football teams only have 12 games in a season, basketball teams play over 30. That’s 30 days in one season that he’d have to find a girl that he gave enough of a shit about to give his jersey to? No thanks.

Of course, if he had a girlfriend it wouldn’t be too big of a deal, but the whole attitude around giving a girl your jersey was just something Suguru didn’t subscribe to.

Well, he didn’t think he subscribed to it until he saw one of his teammates offering you their jersey.

Maybe on a more psychological level, this was territory marking, and Suguru would be damned if he sat back and let another man mark you as their territory.

Even though he’s not proud of it, Suguru immediately marched straight up to you and his teammate with his away jersey thrown over his shoulder. He placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, and he gave his teammate a piercing look with his violet eyes. His lips curled into an easy smirk.

“Sorry man, she’s already agreed to wear my jersey today, isn’t that right angel?” He asked in such a condescending tone, and his fingertips dig into your skin with just enough pressure to make your face flush.

Luckily for Suguru, you were into it — and not his teammate. “Yeah, sorry. I almost forgot.” You agree, giving his teammate an empathetic smile.

So no, Suguru doesn’t get the idea of giving his jersey to a girl on game days, but he does get the idea of giving you his jersey. He loves how he towers behind you in the halls, seeing the name “GETO” written on your back with his number. He loves remembering the way you easily went along with his plan. You just fit him.

NANAMI

Nanami doesn’t need antics to get you to wear his baseball jersey.

Plenty of girls pine for Kento. Who wouldn’t? He was the leading star of the baseball team… who’s ass just so happened to look so good in those white tight-fitting pants.

Your college certainly played into it, giving Nanami the big screen when he takes off his helmet and shakes out his messy blonde hair that a bit damp from sweat. His cheeks are smeared with his eye black smeared on his cheeks (the charcoal black lines that athletes sometimes have).

They knew what they were doing when the yearbook crew took professional level pictures of Nanami looking absolutely jaw-dropping while delivering the nastiest pitch.

He was like eye candy that enticed a bunch of girls to buy tickets to the baseball games, and dammit, it worked.

Despite his celebrity status at the school, Kento didn’t act above anyone else. He didn’t flaunt money or act posh and sophisticated like a lot of the wannabes did at your university.

He was down to earth, smart, caring, and humorous to the right group of people (the dry humor enjoyers). Kento was the type of man to be able to reject someone without them even feeling rejected, which he did a lot when girls would ask for his jersey.

You often came to baseball games to watch (to watch nanami lets bffr), but you weren’t bold enough to ask Kento for his jersey on game days. You had witness girls before you, pilgriming the way to Nanami before they turn back empty handed. You couldn’t risk the heartache.

It wasn’t until one day after class you and Kento were the only two still packing up after a lecture, he casually strolled to your desk. “Will you be at the game tonight?” He asked with a genuine air of curiosity to him. This wasn’t awkward forced conversation because you two were the only two people in a room together.

You hadn’t even known that Nanami noticed you, much less noticed your attendance at games. You could feel your heart start to thud obscenely loud in your chest as you came to terms that you’re not invisible in Kento’s life.

“Yeah, I think I’ll show up…” You try your hardest to sound casual, but you just sound terribly nervous.

“I’ll look forward to seeing you.” He said politely before he reached into his bag and pulled out his spare jersey. “Hopefully wearing this..?”

Your eyes widen as you realize he was offering his jersey to you. “That- are you sure? Me?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He gives an honest laugh. His multimillion dollar smile makes you swoon, and he hands his jersey out again. “You should put it on now. That’s the tradition, right?”

You slowly slip the jersey on over your long-sleeved white top, and it definitely hangs loosely on you, but with a few tucks and adjustments, it finally sits on your body appropriately.

“It looks good on you. I’ll see you tonight.” Kento smiles before leaving the classroom.

You had never gotten more shocked stares than when girls saw you with “NANAMI” printed across your back.

CHOSO

“Hey Yuji, why does Megumi wear your jersey on game days?” Choso asked his teammate as he sat down on the bench in the locker room.

He had seen quite a few people - guys and girls who weren’t on the basketball team wearing the jerseys of his teammates, but he didn’t understand it. He figured he’d ask the one teammate who he considered to be more of a brother to explain.

“Because I make him.” Yuji laughed as he dried his pink hair off from the shower. It was a pretty brutal practice, even Choso’s raven hair was down, messy from sweat.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would you do that-? I thought you liked him.”

Yuji laughed even harder as Choso clearly didn’t understand the dynamic he had with Megumi. He also clearly didn’t understand the concept behind giving someone his jersey.

“I do like him, so I like seeing him wearing my jersey on game days. I think he looks good in it too, even if he pretends to hate it. I know he likes showing his support.” Yuji explained, but he went on, “People give their jerseys to someone they like. It’s like a courting gift, and it lets everyone know your intentions with that person.”

Choso nodded as he began to understand. He should give his jersey to someone he liked - to someone he wanted to court, and his intentions would be made known.

That’s how shy, timid Choso ended up at your dorm door late one evening. After much encouragement and convincing from Yuji, he finally gave your door a soft knock, and Yuji ran around the corner to hide.

When you opened the door, looking at Choso with those big pretty eyes, he completely clammed up and forgot the mental script he had prepared about how he really liked you, and it’d mean a lot to him if you wore his jersey.

Instead, “I want my intentions known.” He nearly shouted as he gestured his jersey to you.

Yuji facepalmed around the corner.

You blinked a few times, looking down at the jersey then back up to him. He was lucky that you’re very good at filling in the blanks. “You want me to wear your jersey, Cho?” You asked with a small laugh before taking the jersey from his hands.

His cheeks were flushed, and he gave you an awkward smile before nodding his head vigorously. “And uh.. I want to court you.” He finally added all in one breath.

To Choso’s delight, you agreed, and now, he finally understands the real reasoning behind giving his jersey to someone he likes because seeing “KAMO” on your back makes him feel all dizzy with love and adoration.

TOJI

It started off as a small prank amongst girls. A prank that really pissed Toji off. A group of girls decided it would be cute to steal Toji’s spare hockey jersey and wear it without his knowledge.

When Toji saw one of the girls wearing his stolen jersey with his appalling last name printed on the back, he was livid.

Needless to say, he got his jersey back, and the girl couldn’t even look him in the eye after that whole experience.

He hated his jersey. He hated how his last name was on the back, and he hated how anyone else would want to wear it.

He couldn’t just get rid of his spare jersey. Then, he’d owe the school even more than what he already owes them. He couldn’t trust to keep it in his dorm because he didn’t put it past those bitches to try to sneak into his dorm to get their filthy hands on it. That was when he had a genius idea.

“Wear my jersey.” His gruff voice demanded as he dropped the fabric on the table in front of you, his too responsible friend.

“No, it probably stinks.” You pushed the jersey aside, trying to focus on the homework in front of you.

“Nah. It smells like the last bitch who stole it.” He remarked as he plopped down in a chair in front of your desk.

“Even worse.” You respond back unamused, still not giving Toji the time of day.

“Do you remember who hunted down the fuck who stole your headphones?”

You sighed, finally looking up at Toji to show that you were paying attention. “Why do you think me wearing your jersey will deter them?”

“Maybe they’ll think you’re my girl and piss off for a while. I don’t know, but if I see another preppy bitch wearing it without my knowledge, I’m going to burn it.” Toji’s voice sounded stressed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“And you don’t mind them thinking that?” You inquire, raising your eyebrow.

“Doll, you know I’ve spent the last three years trying to get you to hop on my-“

“Eughhh, give it.” You interrupt Toji before he can go into any further detail, snatching his jersey up and putting it on over your clothes. “There. Happy?”

Toji didn’t expect to have such a reaction to seeing you in his jersey. He knew he was serious about liking you, no matter how much you liked to believe that he didn’t actually like you, but seeing you in his jersey — the way it swallowed you whole. He figured he’d still hate seeing his last name on you, but there was something satiating those deep primal urges when he caught a glimpse of “ZENIN” across your back.

SUKUNA

Sukuna is much comparable to a dragon. He sees something pretty and shiny (you): he wants it all for himself. He wants to hoard treasure (you) to keep, and he definitely does not like the idea of anyone else looking or touching his treasure.

So, how does he keep wandering eyes off his treasure? He cloaks her in his favor, making her brandish his last name on her back along with his number. Yes, Sukuna demanded for you to wear his football jersey.

There was just enough satisfaction of seeing you walk around campus with “SUKUNA” written on your back that kept him from trying to hoard you in his room.

Oh, he’s also like a dragon in the sense that he’s absolutely devastating out on the field.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 16

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15

Aside from bathroom breaks, Eddie doesn’t leave his room for two days. Friday bleeds into Saturday, bleeds into Sunday, and Eddie wallows in it. Wayne knows him well enough to not bother him, but Wayne also knows him well enough to barge into Eddie’s room Sunday morning without even knocking.

“Up, boy,” he says gruffly, turning Eddie’s overhead light on. “Your eggs are getting cold.”

Eddie groans, and tries to roll over to bury his face back into his pillow, but Wayne grabs him by the ankle and yanks until he goes tumbling out of the bed.

“Wayne!”

“I ain’t asking,” Wayne says, storming out of Eddie’s room without closing the door.

As is his right, Eddie whines and rolls around on his floor for a minute until he can finally find the will to get up. Clearly knowing that it would take Eddie a minute, Wayne’s just plating eggs and potatoes as Eddie walks into the kitchen, still clothed in only his boxers and the same shirt he’d been wearing when Carver’d kicked his ass on Thursday.

They settle across from each other at their dingy table, Wayne letting him get a few bites of breakfast in him before the interrogation he knows is coming begins.

“What happened?” Wayne asks, pushing his own plate away so he can focus on staring Eddie down.

Eddie swallows his bite of potatoes, throat suddenly dry. But, he wants to tell someone, he wants to tell Wayne, who, no matter how Eddie fucks up, is always in his corner.

“I’ve been getting these letters,” Eddie starts, using his fork to play with his food so he doesn’t have to meet his Uncle’s eyes as the whole sordid tale comes out.

He tells it like he experienced it: thinking it was a joke at first before getting wrapped up in the letters, finding out it was Chrissy, trying to connect the living, breathing girl to the words on the page.

And then, Harrington, strong and sure as he defended him from Carver, taking care of his wounds in the aftermath, lying to him for months until he couldn't get away with it anymore.

Wayne just listens without interruption while Eddie talks about Jeff’s betrayal, the fear in Chrissy’s eyes, the defeated slope of Harrington’s back as he’d walked out the door, going god knows where with his car still at the quarry where he’d left it.

When Eddie’s finally done, Wayne hums and pulls his now-cold food back in front of him, picks up his fork and starts to eat. Eddie watches him, gobsmacked.

“Wayne?” Eddie asks, moving his hand up and down in front of his Uncle’s eyes, checking to see if the old man can even still see him. “That’s all you’re going to say? Hmm, and then back to breakfast?”

Eddie scowls as he forks another potato into his mouth, chewing as he continues his tirade. “Where are your wise words, old man? Why the hell’d you even make me get up if this is all I was going to get?”

Wayne hums again, clearly just to piss Eddie off, then finally answers, “you needed to eat.”

Eddie stares at him, mouth hanging open half-masticated potatoes on full display for anyone to see. Not that anyone’s going to because Wayne’s gone back to polishing off his breakfast.

“That’s it?” Eddie demands, throwing his fork down in a huff.

Wayne sighs, like Eddie’s the one being unreasonable here and finally puts his fork down to meet his nephew’s eyes.

“Finish your breakfast, and we can talk.”

Eddie whines, but dutifully scarfs down his plate, never breaking eye contact with his uncle, like they’re in a stand-off. And in a way, they are.

Once done, Eddie tosses his fork across the room into the sink just to prove a point, leans across the table and glares at Wayne. Because he’s an asshole, Wayne takes another sip of his coffee, maintaining eye contact, before finally opening his mouth to speak.

“You like this boy?” Wayne asks.

Eddie sputters and stalls out. “You—I—what?” Eddie asks, fisting his hands into his greasy hair.

“It ain’t an unreasonable question,” he replies. “You’re talking about the kid like he’s a knight in one of those little games you like so much.”

“I—no I wasn’t!” Eddie cries, cheeks burning at the implication.

“Mmmhmm,” Wayne replies, eyebrow raised as he drinks more of his coffee like what he’s saying is of no importance at all.

“Wayne,” Eddie says, leaning over the table to clutch at his shoulders, ribs protesting at the pull. “I’m not gay.”

And that, out of everything, is what gets Wayne to put his mug back down and take Eddie seriously. “You ain’t?” Wayne asks, eyebrow raised. Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide. “You sure? There’s an awful lot of men in leather on your walls.”

Eddie squawks, sinking painfully back into his seat. “That’s Metallica.”

Wayne squints at him. “Is that one of them code words y’all use to stay safe?”

Eddie stands up, chair screeching against the linoleum floor. “It’s a band, Wayne!” Eddie cries, at a loss for what the fuck is happening. “I’m not gay!”

Wayne looks up at him, both eyebrows raised enough to scrunch up his forehead, wrinkling his mostly-bald head. “Well, alright then.”

Eddie stares at him, brain buzzing with even more questions than he’d had before. How long had Wayne thought he was gay? Why? What did he do?

Was he really okay with it?

Eddie turns on his heel and marches out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom without another word. He slams the door and collapses onto his bed, gut squirming with all the thoughts churning in his head.

*** 

Chrissy isn’t surprised when Eddie doesn’t come to school on Monday; she is surprised when Steve does. He’s got bags under his eyes and Robin Buckley super-glued to his side, but he’s still there.

She can’t help the way she runs into his arms, leaving Jeff behind without thought. Steve catches her—he always does, pushing his hands beneath his letterman jacket to grab at her waist and pull her in. They sway there in the middle of the hallway, all their classmates jeering around them.

Chrissy doesn’t care; she’s spent the entire weekend thinking about the crushed look in his eyes as he walked out of the Munson trailer without a backwards glance

“You’re okay?” she asks, face pressed into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

He runs his hand up and down her back as he responds, “I will be.”

She pulls back to smile up at him and reaches up to brush a floppier-than-usual lock of hair behind his ear. “Walk me to class?”

He links their elbows, and does just that, Jeff and Robin falling into line behind them, Robin prattling on about some movie marathon her and Steve had had at her house over the weekend. 

Chrissy’s just glad he wasn’t alone.

Steve sighs, shoulders slumping as he says, “I’m sorry, Chris,” he says, not looking her way. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess.”

She stops abruptly enough that Robin stumbles into them and bounces back, cutting off her stream of words mid-babble to squawk at them. Chrissy doesn’t acknowledge her, too busy standing on her tippy toes so she can grab Steve’s shoulders and yank him down to her level.

“You listen to me, Steve Harrington,” she demands, looking into his big, bewildered eyes. “Your mess is my mess, okay?”

He’s still just staring at her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, so she digs her nails in hard and says, “forever,” with as much finality as she can muster.

He keeps staring at her, looking like he’s about ready to burst into tears in the middle of the hallway. Finally, he says, “come over tonight?” more a demand than a question.

She drops her grip on him and nods, content.

Chrissy doesn’t ask questions when Steve leads her over to Robin in the cafeteria. It’s easy to take that last, final step into social suicide with him at her side. 

They fall into their usual routine that night—they watch trashy TV neither would admit to liking to another living soul, and paint each other’s nails.

The lack of letter writing sits like a dead body between them.

“He won’t tell anyone,” Chrissy says, tightening her grip on his hand when he jerks. Chrissy keeps carefully painting his nails, her favorite pink, not looking up at his face. The color suits him—it’s not fair, but everything does. “He promised.”

Steve doesn’t ask for clarification, they both know who she’s talking about. “You believe him?”

She thinks about that torn, guilty look on Eddie’s face and replies, “I do.”

She finishes his pinkie and settles his hand down on her own knee to dry, knowing from previous experience that if she gives it back, he’ll ruin all her work running his hand through his hair.

“That’s good,” he mutters, looking down at his own hand, tilted so far forward that even when she looks up, his hair’s flopped too far into his face to see his eyes. “It still hurts.”

Chrissy sighs. She’d seen this coming all those months ago when she’d helped pen the first letter. Had seen the writing on the wall like it was she herself that was writing it. But, she’d helped him anyway, hoping to salvage his safety, if not his dignity.

She can only hope she has.

“I know,” she replies, biting her lip against apologies he won’t accept. “But, we’re in this together, okay?”

Steve’s fingers twitch on her leg, but he doesn’t pull away. “Even with you and Jeff?”

“You figured that out, huh?” she asks, and that’s what finally gets him to look up at her with a raised brow, making her laugh.

“I mean, you told me you were going to ask him out,” he starts, before leering over at her. “And you two aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Tell that to Eddie,” she replies, wanting to swallow the name back down once it comes out of her mouth, but it’s too late—it’s already been said.

Steve smiles wryly as he says, “well, he’s not exactly the most observant, is he?”

He has her there. Steve himself, no matter how hard he tried, wasn’t subtle with his affections: the compliments, the stuttering over his words, the blushing. But none of it had done more than make Eddie give Steve suspicious looks, like there was some sort of game he wasn’t in on.

There was, but even without knowing he was playing, he’d still beaten Steve.

“No, he’s really not.”

Steve hums, picking up his hand to check if it’s dry before moving onto painting her nails. He picks his favorite yellow for her, even though he knows it washes her out. She holds out her hand and doesn’t complain.

“I really like him,” Steve says, quietly enough that it’s barely audible over the murmur of voices coming from the TV.

“I know,” she whispers, watching the flickering sadness on his face by the illumination of the Harrington’s big television screen. “I love you. You know that, right?”

He pauses in painting her nails to meet her eyes, smiling for real now. “I know,” he says, stroking the skin on her wrist with the free fingers not holding the nail polish applicator. “And you know what? This was all worth it if I got you out of it.”

And then he just goes back to painting her nails like that wasn’t the most romantic thing anyone has ever said. Eddie Munson can fuck himself; Chrissy’s going to be buried in Steve’s letterman jacket and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

*** 

Eddie doesn’t go to school on Monday. He’s too busy rereading the secret admirer notes—the notes Steve Harrington left him—like if he reads them in the right order, it’ll all snap together in his brain in a way that makes fucking sense.

And it does, sort of. It’s like sorting out a bunch of puzzle pieces after finally knowing what the shape of the puzzle even is. Some parts of the letters just jump out of the page, the longer he looks. In the end, he processes this the way he processes everything: he makes a list.

   Proof that Steve Harrington is my Secret Admirer:

   1. I’m not trying to bully you.

   2. I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you.

   3. I know you don’t like them, but I like sports.

   4. My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors.

   5. But my eyes? They’re brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours.

   6. I tried playing the piano again, and I’m a little rusty.

   7. Do you hate all of them, or just the bullies?

   8.   You laughed, but it wasn’t your real laugh like when Mr. Danver accidentally said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’.

A jock afraid of Eddie labeling them as a bully? Check. Favorite color, the same one Steve Harrington had painted his nails all those weeks ago? Check. Rich enough to have a piano that’s just not played? Check. But the most damning part of all: Chrissy was never in Mr. Danver’s class with him last year, but Harrington was. And Chrissy? Her eyes are bright, translucent blue.

The longer he looks at those two incriminating bits of evidence, the stupider he feels. It was never her, and from the looks of it, they hadn’t put much effort into pretending it was. It was always Harrington from that first, forever-lost letter that they’d stuffed in his locker.

And the longer he pours over the letters, the less he can picture Chrissy sprawled on her bed, writing each letter with a shy flourish before spraying it with a puff of her favored scent. No. It’s Harrington, frowning down at the page because words have never come easy to him; it’s Harrington sleeping with Eddie’s letter placed gently beneath his pillow; it’s Harrington who’d made Eddie smile like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

And now that he thinks about it, wasn’t it Harrington whose eye he kept catching from across the cafeteria? Harrington who’d stutter over his words around Eddie, but still told him he was a good storyteller?

Harrington who wanted to go to his show. Chrissy hadn’t even remembered Corroded Coffin’s name. 

Harrington had–of course he had. 

And he can picture that, too now. Harrington in the crowd in his stupid polo with his bright yellow nail polish, sticking out like a sore thumb in the gruff crowd at the Hideout, beautiful brown eyes trained solely on Eddie.

He can still feel the way his pulse had ratcheted up when they were in the bathroom, Harrington between his spread thighs, palms warm against his tender ribs, sucking all the oxygen out of Eddie’s lungs with how close he was.

It’s too much.

“Hello?” Jeff’s mom sounds curt over the phone, already fed up with Eddie calling before he’s even said anything. Eddie doesn’t care; he can’t when he needs Jeff this badly.

“Can I talk to Jeff?” he cries out, hand shaking around the receiver as he listens to her grumble, but she still shouts for her son to come pick up the goddamn phone. 

“Hello?”

Eddie should wait until he’s sure Jeff’s mom is no longer in hearing vicinity, but he can’t, too wound up tight to keep from blurting out, “am I gay?”

There’s a moment of silence that Eddie can barely breathe through before Jeff says, “uhh, Eddie?” in such a bewildered voice that Eddie sort of wants to punch him.

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” he says, words spilling out over each other. “And I’m sorry about what I said, and you’re sorry that you kept secrets from me—we can do that later, Jeff!”

“Uh, oka—”

“Now, am I gay?” he’s panting by the time he’s done, not having taken a single breath during his tirade. He’s waiting for Jeff’s confirmation or denial, but all that comes down the line is his quiet breathing. “Jeff?”

“Uh, shit, we’re doing this? Okay.” Eddie can almost picture the fed-up palm Jeff’s rubbing against his face, as if it’s somehow Eddie’s fault that Jeff is taking so long explaining the squirmy nebulous feeling in Eddie’s gut. “I don’t know man, why do you think you’re gay?”

Then, Eddie does what he should have done all along, and spills everything to Jeff, from the first letter all the way up to Steve Harrington’s bitchy little speech in the quarry as he put himself bodily between Eddie and Jason Carver.

“—and then he kneeled between my knees like that’s a normal, straight guy thing to do and just like, put his hands in my shirt!” Eddie whines, long since having settled onto the cold linoleum of his kitchen floor. “I mean, what the hell?”

“I think you’re forgetting one important fact, dude: Steve’s not straight.”

“Which brings me back to my question!” Eddie replies, trying for breezy and landing on whiny. “Am I gay?”

Jeff hums down the line like he’s really thinking about it this time. “Well, when he was touching you,” he starts, like that already doesn’t have Eddie’s face flaming, “what did you feel?”

Eddie puts himself back into that moment, thighs splayed pressed open by the heavy weight of Harrington’s body, Harrington’s big, warm hands running over his skin, his worried golden brown eyes roving over Eddie’s face.

“I felt like I was on fire,” Eddie whispers, feeling that same heat now pooling lower in his gut.

“…in a good way?” Jeff asks.

Eddie’s brain goes static, full of too much to differentiate good from bad, if that’s a distinction that ever existed at all. Eddie makes a questioning noise in his throat, knees twitching restlessly where they’re crossed in front of him.

“Okay, okay, uhh—hmm,” Jeff hums across the line. “Did you want to move closer or away?”

Eddie closes his eyes and thinks, imagining that trapped, warm, overwhelming feeling of being caged in by Harrington’s body. “Both?”

Jeff hmms again, clearly trying to think it through. Eddie can’t blame him—this is the most confused he’s been in his entire life, and Jeff doesn’t even have an all-access pass to his brain to try to pick answers out of–not that it’s currently doing Eddie much good.

“Do you want to try kissing a guy?” Jeff asks. “I’d do it, if it was for you, dude.”

Eddie’s nose wrinkles, lips puckering in disgust, “ew, you’re like my brother.”

Jeff laughs at him and replies, “so you don’t want to, not because I’m a guy, but because we’re like brothers? Sounds pretty gay, dude.”

“Oh.”

Jeff doesn’t say anything; he’s always been good at sensing when Eddie just needs a minute to think. But this time, he doesn’t think a minute will cut it, so he continues with a, “hey Jeff?”

“Hmm?”

“I really did mean it, you know.” He squeezes the phone tighter against the side of his face, like that will help his sincerity ring down the line. “I am sorry, and we should talk about it, but I can’t yet.”

Jeff still doesn’t reply, but his breathing is steady and sure down the line, settling Eddie’s anxious heart down to a little flutter.

“Is that okay?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, dude,” Jeff replies gruffly. “So, you’ll still call me?”

Eddie smiles. He’s missed Jeff, is the thing. They’ve been so distant lately, and no matter how well Eddie and Gareth get along, he’s no Jeff. “Or accost you at school, whichever comes first.”

That makes Jeff laugh; Eddie lets the sound warm him. “Okay, but I’m serious about the kissing thing!” Jeff replies, “Come over and I can plant one right on y—”

Eddie hangs up on his friend, feeling more himself than he has in days. No matter what happens, he has Jeff.

PART 17

[bvidzsoo]

Take your breath away

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: werewolf!Jeong Yunho x werewolf!female reader

☾ Warning: nudity, quite suggestive at times (honestly, they are pretty horny for each other), cursing, unhealthy amount of subtle (or not) jealousy and possessiveness ☾ Word count: 28.9k ☾ Rating: mature, nc-17 ☾ Genre: supernatural creatures!au, academy!au, werewolf!au, omegaverse-ish!au, unrequited love!au...or is it?, mates!au ☾ Summary: New beginnings are always scary, and you are no stranger to them as your family moves to a town called Nocturnal Parade, filled with other night creatures. You find lovely people here, a community, a pack to have your back, and even a best friend called Choi San. What you don't expect, however, is to find your mate, who wants nothing to do with you.

A/N: Hi, my lovelies, I am back! I know I was gone for a while, and I won't lie, I wasn't inspired at all and felt really depressed (some things just pilled up for me in these past autumn months and that mixed with seasonal depression have hit me hard), but I am feeling a lot better now! I won't promise anything, but I'll try to post again more often, and hopefully continue the on-going series I already have. Please, please, please, imagine Yunho in this one with long hair, like in the top-middle picture! And for those who have read my Mingi Preying on you tonight oneshot, I have some exciting news...this story happens in the same universe, sooo, you'll get more insight on everyone's character! ^^ (If you haven't checked it out yet, you should give it a read, the world building goes more in-depth there ^^) Also, important note to keep in mind: everyone in this story goes by the 'Song' surname since they are siblings! I hope you enjoy this story too, and a small reminder, your feedback always gives me an inspirational push, so I greatly appreciate hearing what you think of this oneshot! <3 divider ~ and because I might as well dedicate this oneshot to you for hyping me up and helping me out with it, I hope you enjoy it @hongjoongspoetry <3 ~

            No matter how long I looked, he’d never glance my way. I had gotten used to his constant ignorance, but it still stung. I couldn’t help it, it was the only reasonable reaction considering we were mates.

It wasn’t anything we had spoken about, let alone even addressed, but I had known since the very first time I had laid my eyes on him. It was the change of my pulse, the way the world seemed to quiet around me, my breathing which got shallow, my pupils dilating and my eyes switching to an orchid colour that seemed to persist as my heart thundered in my chest, loud, and overbearing as I couldn’t help but watch the tall man who people surrounded, his head thrown back and mouth shielded by his long fingers as his body shook from laughing loudly. Until now I had only heard stories of what finding your mate felt like, but now I knew the feeling. I didn’t need to read fairytales about it anymore, nor would I pester my mother for the nth time to retell her story about meeting my father. I wasn’t desperate, per se, to find my mate, but the worry of growing old on my own had felt like a mosquito always buzzing around my ears, unable to kill it since I couldn’t see it. The fear of remaining alone seemed to persist in the back of my mind, and based on my mood, sometimes it would make me angry while other times just really anxious.

While living in Colourful River, the big city from North here, finding a suitor for myself had always felt like a challenging feat. There were too many creatures and humans alike who were too nosy and pestering, and I had never felt like I could be truly myself around them. I didn’t have many friends, humans or creatures, and at first, I blamed it on my shyness. Then, I started blaming it on my nerdiness as school rolled around, then it was the thought of being too plain for anyone to find me interesting and approachable, and then I gave up on finding an answer and decided that perhaps I was meant to be lonely, like my parents. In the big city, despite having lived here our whole lives, it seemed like we never found ourselves belonging to a community. Living closer to the border, the cities and towns were inhabited by many night creatures, however, that didn’t seem to change much when it came to my family. Maybe it was because we were all quiet and reclusive, maybe it was because we had never truly felt comfortable surrounded by so much happening at all times. And that is why I hadn’t felt any type of resistance or regret when my parents packed up our things and announced to me that we’d be leaving for a quiet and safe town just South of Colourful River, far from the border and the humans.

Nocturnal Parade has been a place I’ve heard plenty of. I knew it was inclusive of all the night creatures while being heavily influenced by the clergy. After all, it’s the town where the first attempts at a civilised and united nation amongst the night creatures had sparked. The vampires had taken the initiative, better said the Petrova family now known as Bae, were the founders of said town and the party that now advocated for all the night creatures all around the globe, making our voices heard, demanding respect and inclusion. They were, also, the ones to end the hatred between vampires and werewolves. Thanks to the effort and constant hard work, the werewolves had complied and formed one of the strongest alliances known to mankind with the vampires, pledging to fight by their side, to honour and respect them if their passion was returned by the vampires. And the respect had been mutual, the Petrovas didn’t stop until justice was brought to everyone, until every night creature could live a harmonious and pleasant life. It was a bit nerve-wracking to know I’d be cohabiting in a place with such ancient and respectable creatures from now on. From what I had heard of them until now, I knew only the daughter and her parents lived there still, keen on carrying the town’s, but also the family’s, legacy.

I wasn’t afraid of the change, however, I was reluctant and a little hesitant to join the Academy that had ultimately become a symbol of our unity and equality between us creatures. Back at my old schools, which were just simple regular schools frequented by both humans and night creatures, I wasn’t very liked. Everyone seemed to single me out, even my own kind, and they hadn’t always been the nicest about it. I supposed they saw me as an oddball just because I didn’t enjoy chasing a ball in our breaks and would rather play video games on forums with online friends, than play pretend that I was part of their made-up pack. Which brought another issue to light. My family had never belonged to a pack. My father’s family had long ago moved to Colourful River, leaving behind their abusive and mistreated past, meanwhile, my mother’s family had always been tightly-knit but not inclusive of strangers. So, as the elders all died, it was just my parents and me. I didn’t have any siblings, which seemed to make me even weirder since most werewolves reproduced more than once as they preferred to have big households full of children. My parents rather enjoyed the peace a single child, like me, offered them. The less mouths to feed, the better.

However, my worries seemed to be in vain once I had finally arrived in town, and then at Wilden Pine Academy. The town was lively and buzzing with creatures at every corner, all of them friendly and lacking the judgement and nosiness of the big city folk, who always watched you with inquiring eyes, desperate for a drop of gossip. Here, in Nocturnal Parade, everyone seemed to respect your space and didn’t pry anything out of you, they were simply grateful that you had chosen their haven as your home. Moving here had been probably the best decision my parents could’ve made. I liked it here, living by the outskirts of the Haunted Woods was refreshing. I could go for evening runs whenever I wanted without having to share my space with other restless werewolves, who genuinely enjoyed sharing the running track with their friends. I always found solace in solitary, I could clear my mind when it got too loud in there. Runs were pretty much therapeutic to me, I quite disliked it when I was bothered by other rambunctious werewolves who’d howl at the night sky just for the fun of it, mostly to spook the humans that ogled us rather disrespectfully.

My aloneness, however, wasn’t chased away until the academic year started and I passed through the tall iron gates of the Academy. It was a sunny day and I was impressed by the heat despite being surrounded by vast forest, the drive a long four hours until the next town, which was Nocturnal Parade. My parents were probably more excited about me starting my penultimate academic year here than I was, but it didn’t bother me. I knew they wished I’d make happy and lasting memories here, unlike the lack of them at my old schools. They hoped amongst so many night creatures I’d find at least one person who was like me, or even if not, creatures who would accept me the way I was. I hadn’t been walking down for long the gravel path when my backpack was pushed off my shoulders as someone ran past me, only to pause once they realised their actions. My luggage was heavy as I had been pulling it after me, but the boy who I thought wouldn’t even apologise for bumping into me, turned and faced me with furrowed eyebrows and a small pout.

“Sorry, my parents always say I get too excited and lose my coordination.” The boy’s voice had been gruff, a contrast with his soft features despite his sharp face. His eyebrows were straight, his eyes small and dark, his nose petite and pointy, lips pouty and fleshy, his jawline and cheekbones both sharp and defined. His short hair and the razor cut in his left eyebrow made him look intimidating until he spoke or smiled. His lips formed a pout and his eyes disappeared as a dimpled smile formed on his face, brightening his features. He was a cute boy and I had let him help me pick up my backpack, which, surprisingly, he didn’t hand back and threw around his own shoulder instead, “Are you the new family in town? The Byuns?”

I nodded and then extended a hand for him to shake, “My name is Byun Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Choi San!” The boy shook my hand with excitement lacing his tone, “I was on a holiday when your family arrived in town, that is why I wasn’t able to attend the welcoming party organised by the Songs.”

“Ah, it’s fine.” I muttered as I had started walking again, San falling in step with me, “The party was rather…overwhelming. Not that I didn’t appreciate it, but I had never been surrounded by so many loving people at once.”

San chuckled under his breath as he seemed to carry his two duffle bags as if they weighed nothing. It wasn’t hard to guess what type of creature he was simply based on his appearance already. He was massive next to me, his shoulders wide and strong looking, his chest puffed out and back rigidly straight, his hips surprisingly narrow, but his legs well-worked. He wasn’t too tall, but he had almost a head on me. Besides, his spicy scent was strong and confident, a little bit too harsh for my sensitive nose buds, but not nauseating. And like the rest of the werewolves who had been at the welcoming party, I felt no malice nor judgement coming from San, just a lot of excitement and joy as he had led us towards the right wing of the Academy, where the designated dorms for the werewolves were.

“It might sound a little bit strange, but all the werewolves act like a big pack here in Nocturnal Parade, I assume you didn’t have that back in the city?” San’s perfectly straight eyebrow raised as he threw me a quick glance since we were nearing more students, and San was obviously popular. Everyone seemed to greet him, eager to gain his attention.

“Not really,” I answered San, walking ahead to pull the building’s door open for him, “My family didn’t belong to a pack, actually.”

That had gotten San’s attention as his eyes widened once we stepped through the threshold, the inside of the building just as grandiose as the outside. It was spacious with big windows, natural light seeping through and casting a warm glow over the space, “It must’ve been lonely, then. But fear not, the Songs will adopt your family quite quickly, if they haven’t already.”

I smiled, my heart had skipped a beat at the mention of the kind, but energetic family, “They have already, actually. They had pulled my parents aside before the party and told them that we were now part of the pack, of the family, and that the community would be there for us.”

San hummed as we went up the first flight of stairs, a small smile on his face, “Our community hadn’t always been as close as it is now, but with the Songs' arrival to Nocturnal Parade everything just fell into place. I don’t think I had seen them go a day without doing something for the town or for their fellow creatures—hey, which floor is your room at?”

And that had been one year ago, when I was new to the town and wondering whether San would ever again speak to me. Right now, however, as we sat in the Flower Field behind campus, laying on a blanket and basking in the late afternoon sun, I knew San wouldn’t go a day without speaking to me. Spring was finally around the corner, and so was the Spring Break every student was impatiently awaiting. One week back home sounded really nice right now, I never failed to miss my privacy. The dorms at the Academy were shared, and my roommate snored really loudly and whined all the time. It was hard to discipline the second youngest of the Song family, so the Academy’s ruling board decided to place her with someone older than her, more mature, and possibly a good influence on the fiery blonde who liked to wreak havoc wherever she went. Not in our shared room, though, I had laid down some ground rules after rooming with Song Yeri. No loudness nor messiness was allowed, and of course, she couldn’t bring back boys into our shared room. As long as I didn’t, she wasn’t allowed either. She wasn’t thrilled by the idea, but because her parents had gotten really close with mine over the past year, Yeri was forced to abide by the rules out of fear of me ratting her out to her loving, but unforgiving, parents.

The air was still chilly and you’d become cold if you sat in one spot for too long, but the bodies of werewolves were warmer, our blood hotter, almost to the point of boiling in our veins. My cheeks were rosy as I sat with my legs crossed, a book in my lap as San hummed a silent tune next to me, laying on his stomach as he solved equations. He was planning on leaving for the big city to pursue further education, but he promised to return once he was done with it. He aspired to teach at Wilden Pine Academy, and I was more than eager to be his number-one supporter. He was great with children, and even those older seemed to respect him. San had a demanding aura, and despite him never taking advantage of that, he did know when he had to put his foot down and stop someone from running all over him. Being friends with San had showed me the wonders of companionship, of what a natural and gentle, but platonic, love felt like. I could share whatever was on my mind, at any given time, and San would be there to listen, and even take my ideas further beyond my imagination.

He was a driving force when it came to my creativity, always inspiring me and pushing me to do better and to go harder because I was capable of creating grand things. I wasn’t too sure of what I’d do once I was done with the Academy, but I could see myself being a novelist. It wouldn’t be easy at first, but if I remained diligent and focused on my task, I knew I could do it—at least San had told me so, he was kind like that. Whenever I felt insecure about something, he picked me up and changed my mind about it in mere minutes, grinning from ear to ear as his eyes twinkled. If kindness had a definition, it should’ve simply said Choi San, and I was sure everyone would understand why. The serenity surrounding us, however, didn’t last for long as a squeal of my best friend’s name echoed around the blooming flowery field. San’s body tensed for just a second before he turned onto his back, sitting up as he leaned back on his hands, looking towards the boy he was too scared to confess his true feelings to.

“Sannie!” With little regard for those around him, Wooyoung threw himself at San, tackling him back down into the blanket as San groaned, the back of his head colliding with the hard ground, “Stop doing your homework and come on a run with me, hmm?”

Wooyoung was a charming young man, mischievous and painfully loud, but he had good intentions. If I ignored him always trying to sway San away from studying, then yes, he did mostly have good intentions. I shifted a bit since Wooyoung’s leg dug painfully into my hip, who was still ignoring my presence as he blinked at San slowly, placing his hands on my best friend’s firm chest as San tried to stabilise Wooyoung by holding onto his waist.

“I have a bit of homework still to do, though.” San’s voice was quiet as the sun shone down on the two friends, and I smiled to myself as I went back to reading my book, “Could you wait for half an hour?”

“But I’ve been waiting all day for you.” I could hear the pout in Wooyoung’s voice, breathy and whiny as I chuckled under my breath, eyes focusing on the words in my book. It was jarring how alike Yeri and him were at times.

“Then you can wait a bit longer.” San’s tone wasn’t harsh, but it was chastising a bit, and it made Wooyoung groan as I smiled to myself, amused by their antics. I was sure that if I could hear San’s slight change of heartbeat, the spiciness of his scent spiking too, then Wooyoung was aware of it too. Sometimes I wondered how the latter didn’t realise San’s obvious feelings for him, but I suppose Wooyoung wasn’t a very observant person, unlike his older brother, Mingi.

“Can I stay though—” Then I felt eyes on myself and I heard shuffling around, Wooyoung finally removed himself from on top of San, “Oh, hey, Y/N. What are you doing?”

“Reading,” I muttered as I flipped the page, bored by the story but knowing I had just two days to finish reading the remaining two hundred pages.

“Is it for Literature class?” Wooyoung pressed, coming closer as he hovered over my shoulder, “Yunho’s been complaining about how shitty the book was, something about the story being too slow-paced and the side love story not making too much sense.”

I hummed, completely agreeing with Yunho, who shared a Literature class with me. At the same time, I was beyond grateful that I had learned to control my reactions at the mention of Song Yunho, who had looked my way a total of three times ever since I had arrived to Nocturnal Parade. I didn’t understand what I had done wrong to be brushed off so blatantly by him, but it hurt. It had hurt a lot more in the beginning, but I had gotten used to the feeling of dejection and disappointment that followed whenever we crossed paths. I didn’t understand whether I had upset him or not, considering that our first encounter had gone rather well. To me, it had gone more than well, but maybe Yunho didn’t share the sentiment. Almost as if summoned by some deity, I didn’t have to look to know he was approaching us. My body knew upon a simple whiff of the air, the earthy and intense scent of firewood and vanilla making my lungs feel like they couldn’t expand anymore to breathe in deeper, my skin covered in goosebumps as the world seemed to quieten around me in his presence. Yunho’s tall shadow was looming over us as he stopped at the foot of the blanket, his question directed at Wooyoung.

“Did you take my cologne, again, Wooyoung?” He didn’t sound angry, but his tone was demanding. I heard Wooyoung scoff next to me as he sat mirroring my position, looking up at his brother with a defying look in his eyes.

“No, I don’t like its scent.” Wooyoung was bad at lying, especially when we had heightened and sensitive senses and he was reeking of Yunho’s sandalwood essence cologne.

“Sure, where did you put it? I need it.” I didn’t have to look to see Yunho roll his eyes, I continued feigning that I was reading the book, but my eyes were stuck on the same sentence as I read it over and over again, the words not registering in my mind. It was hard to focus when Yunho was around.  

“Are you going on a date, or what’s the rush?” I willed my heartbeat to remain steady at Wooyoung’s teasing question, to bite back the whine that threatened to leave my lips. I had no right to make claims over Yunho, but my wolf seemed to struggle to understand that. We weren’t mated, and we’d probably never be with how Yunho disregards my existence.

“Where is it, Wooyoung?” Yunho had lost his patience as his voice had an edge, his shadow still looming over us as I heard San fidget around as he turned onto his stomach to continue his homework.

“In Mingi’s bottom drawer, by the bed, where he keeps his condoms—”

“Alright.” Yunho’s tone raised, a tired huff leaving his mouth as San snickered under his breath. I didn’t react but I would’ve smiled too, Wooyoung’s brutal honesty and oversharing skills, I fear, would never be matched by anyone else I’d come across. I had a feeling it was the same for San and Yunho too, “Stop taking my things or I’ll tell mom.”

“Stop being a pussy and always ratting me out to mom,” Wooyoung’s tongue was stuck out as Yunho leaned down and harshly flicked his little brother’s forehead, making him yelp, “I’m telling mom!”

“Who’s the pussy now, huh?” I couldn’t help the smile spreading onto my lips this time as Wooyoung started whining loudly as he rubbed his forehead, his scent souring just a little bit.

San’s heart skipped a beat and I wondered whether the other two noticed, but based on their glaring contest, I highly doubted it, “Whatever, Y/N’s reading the same book as you are. Didn’t you say—”

“I’ll see you at dinner, Wooyo.” Yunho’s sharp intake of breath made me gulp as I fought hard to not show my disappointment, I knew Yunho wasn’t interested in me, but going to the extent of not even wanting to hear about me definitely stung a lot, “And don’t bother Sannie too much.”

Don’t bother Sannie too much, but I suppose he could bother me. Not that Yunho had even noticed me lounging around on the blanket, despite Wooyoung being almost all nestled up into my side since San wasn’t paying any attention to him now. I gulped down the bitterness and growing lump in my throat as Yunho departed, his footsteps loud and heavy, the sounds of the world returning to my ears once he wasn’t around anymore. Breathing was easier too, but it was a bit difficult seeing anything written on the yellowing paper since my vision was suddenly blinded by tears. It was alright, I have heard of mates that weren’t fated to be together. Of mates where only one of them imprinted on the other, and was forced to watch the love of their life mate with someone else, forced to live and die alone, without having ever experienced true and honest love. It was alright, I wouldn’t know how to gesticulate a relationship either way. I gulped and blinked my eyes fast, willing the tears to disappear before Wooyoung could notice them.

The younger boy sighed loudly next to me before he rolled over, crawling on San’s back as he laid his cheek against his friend’s scapula, “Do you mind if I take a nap like this?”

“No.” San’s voice was deeper as we shared a knowing look, Wooyoung remaining oblivious to San’s racing heart as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment when I gave him a subtle wink. If I couldn’t find my happiness, then I truly wished at least my best friend would. He’d deserve it, San deserved to be cherished and loved like no one else, and I had a feeling Wooyoung would be able to provide San with everything he needed. If only he wasn’t so oblivious to San’s feelings, besides, I had never seen Wooyoung courting anyone, we had no idea of his preferences. Whenever San tried to bring up the subject, he’d told me Wooyoung would smartly twist it until they weren’t even talking about it anymore. Maybe he was avoiding it because he had noticed San’s reactions and was afraid to hurt his best friend, or maybe he was avoiding it because he had been feeling something he didn’t understand quite yet. It wasn’t taboo for werewolves to find love amongst their own gender, but I suppose growing up in a place where nobody was like you must be nerve-wracking and rather full of uncertainty. This only made me realize that despite the cons of living in the big city had its pros as well since I grew up in a diverse and inclusive place, open and uncaring of who loved who.

But if Wooyoung’s romantic preferences remained unknown to us, Yunho’s certainly didn’t. He was unlike anyone I have met before, starting from his personality and ending with his looks. He was the eldest of the family, a good few minutes older than his twin brother, Mingi, and so naturally he was also the biggest and strongest. He was intimidatingly tall and freakishly broad, his shoulders wide and his back strong. He wasn’t visibly muscular but I’ve seen him countless times lifting logs, and even heavier things, without breaking a sweat to know that Yunho was outrageously strong. His hair was a dark brown and it had grown out since I had first met him, now always messy and curly as it reached his shoulders, making him look more boyish than the first time I had seen him. He had red highlights in his hair a year ago, adding to his mysterious allure, as his lips were a soft pink, the apple of his cheeks and nose dusted coral, which was a nice contrast with his paler complex, unlike Mingi’s whose skin was a beautiful caramel. The twins weren’t identical, but upon a closer look, you were able to tell just how many attributes they shared.

Yunho loved experimenting with his style, and he mostly wore coloured clothes, all flashy and somehow still cosy looking, however, his shoes always seemed to be mismatched. It was a peculiar feat that had me wondering whether Yunho was just generally weird or he just had a particular taste when it came to fashion, I soon had realized it was the latter. His nails were always well-kept and painted either a turquoise or a yellow colour, bringing attention to his already beautiful hands, his fingers long and bony and mostly decorated by black rings. His scent, that earthy firewood and vanilla, was just as attention-grabbing as the rest of Yunho. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve assumed Yunho was a very serious person, highly focused on his education, someone who spent his days cooped up in his room reading and learning all the time. But the Songs weren’t too focused on getting high grades, and that became apparent rather quickly after I arrived at the Academy. Yunho was a goofy guy, he loved having fun and he really enjoyed being surrounded by people, always eager to share a laugh with someone, or just fall into idle chitchat for hours on end. People seemed to gravitate towards him, eager to have a word with him. It wasn’t just him, though, students at the Academy all seemed to love the Song family, especially the twins who felt like fresh air in the dull and mediocre town that Nocturnal Parade seemed to be at first glance.

However, as mediocre as it was, I had never felt more at ease in a place before. It truly felt like I had found a community for myself and for my family, a place where everyone had your back and expected nothing in return even at the slightest of help offered. My parents loved it here, it was rather obvious since my mother was smiling more, the wrinkles were gone from her face, and my father wasn’t as stressed as before. Working as an archivist in the big city had been demanding, but in this quiet town where nobody was rushing forward with their lives, my parents could take a breather. And I could too, until I quickly realized I had been blatantly rejected by my potential mate before even getting to know them. The day we had arrived in Nocturnal Parade had been long and nerve-wracking, I had no idea what would await us in this new place. That same day, the werewolves threw a welcoming party for our family, eager to welcome us into their pack.

It was late evening by the time my family had sorted most things out at our small house, which was on the same street as the Songs and right by the Pinecone Forest, the perfect neighbourhood for relentless werewolves that needed a lot of space to get rid of their impulsive energy. The party was in the backyard of the Songs family and was full of creatures by the time we made it there. It was warm, welcoming, and felt genuine from the second we stepped through their threshold. The family was big, but each one of them was gentle and eager to meet us, even the troublemakers which were Wooyoung and Yeri. And after that, it didn’t take long for me to become once again invisible as I stood close to the drinks table in the Songs' backyard, gazing out towards the bonfire as the sun was about to set. The evening breeze was warm still and a light sheen of sweat coated my temples as I sipped my cool lemonade slowly, embarrassed to refill it for the fourth time. My solace, however, didn’t last for longer as I noticed two towering figures beeline towards me. Their hair was tousled and they looked like they had been wrestling before they headed here, and I felt nervous upon realizing that they were probably the twins Mrs. Song had been talking about.

They had been out on their evening run and would only join us later, and they were very much so headed my way to introduce themselves. My heart was racing and I felt nervous, but I willed myself to calm down since I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of two potential classmates once I’d started attending Wilden Pine Academy, which had been another anxiety-inducing thought at that time. The two guys, so very different in appearance yet so similar in mannerisms, sported matching smiles on their faces by the time they reached me. The one who was dressed in all-black and wore heavy jewellery had long hair which was pulled back into a half-up ponytail, his hair blonde and red, a rather cool-looking hairstyle. His features were sharp and his gaze was intense, but his open-mouthed boxy smile softened his features, his crooked front teeth endearing. The other one, however, was dressed in a pink crop top and high-waisted yellow jeans, one of his sneakers green meanwhile the other was turquoise. His hair had been shorter than the other guy’s, darker in colour too as it had red highlights, parted at the forehead. His features were a lot softer, his eyes rounder and warm, his cheeks puffy and rosy, his pouty lips a dark purple. His nails were painted turquoise and his jewellery was a lot simpler than the other guy’s, and I quickly realised that unless he was smiling, he looked just as intimidating as his twin brother.

But really, Yunho’s appearance wasn’t the first thing that caught my attention, sure, he looked unusual and made me remember the days when I was a lot younger and would purposefully dress up my Barbie dolls in silly outfits and organise pageants for them, but it was all about his scent and demeanour. The world seemed to dim around me when we had made eye contact, my arms and legs feeling numb suddenly as his rich earthy musky scent tinged with a hint of sweat invaded my nostrils, followed by firewood mixed with vanilla making my tongue feel like lead. My heart was racing and I couldn’t do anything about it as I watched Yunho’s pupils expand, his body turning rigid as Mingi remained oblivious to the subtle exchange between me and his twin. I had known that whatever I felt just upon a glance and a whiff weren’t simple reactions of my body, but when I heard his voice and touched his warm skin, all of my fears and worries were answered.

“Hi,” It was the slightly shorter twin that addressed me first, his voice deep and lightly raspy, “You must be the Byuns’ daughter, right?”

I wasn’t able to find my voice as I nodded wordlessly, hands tightening around my cup of icy lemonade. Thankfully they didn’t seem offended by my lack of verbal response, I could only pray they would assume my heart raced so wildly because I was nervous. I tried to ignore the fact that the taller twin’s heart was thumping even louder than my own heart, blaming it on the remaining adrenaline from his run, “My name is Yunho and this is my twin brother, Mingi.”

One large hand was extended towards me then, and as I grabbed it to shake it, I was positive Yunho must’ve felt the electricity that coursed through my body at the simple touch. It had felt as if my whole being was charged, as if I was experiencing the whole world for the first time. Everything sounded sharper, looked brighter, and smelled fresher. I could feel Yunho’s pulse in my own palm, his gorgeous eyes shaking as we stood frozen, gripping each other’s hands tightly. But upon Mingi’s awkward throat clearing, I ripped myself away from under the charm, and faced the guy with a small smile, “Nice to meet you two, I’m Y/N.”

Touching Mingi, however, felt like touching anyone else. My body was still tingling from Yunho’s touch, but I had felt nothing special as Mingi grinned widely at me, his handshake just a little firmer than Yunho’s had been. Once we released each other’s hands I was quick to down my lemonade, subtly trying to pat the sweat from my temples away, embarrassed over the fact that my scent was most probably spiking and irking them. But neither boy commented about it as Yunho’s deep eyes remained trained on me, tracking all of my actions.

“You just arrived, right?” Yunho’s voice was a lot steadier than mine had been, and I gulped, trying to ignore the sigh that threatened to leave my lips at the warm rumble of his tone.

“Yes, somewhere around noon. The drive wasn’t too long, though.” I hoped if I spoke fast and a lot they would blame my reactions on nervousness, “We’ve been looking forward to moving here, I’ve heard a lot of great things about this town due to the Petrovas and everything. I assume living here is rather good.”

The mention of that name seemed to make the twins grimace, but I didn’t pry and they didn’t say anything about it, “Surely it is, we’ve moved here roughly nine years ago, but it just feels like we were meant to be in this town, to live here.”

Mingi’s tone was earnest as he spoke and I smiled at him, my eyes constantly slipping back onto Yunho, who looked like he hadn’t blinked since the twins had reached me. I gulped and smiled softly at him, wondering whether he felt the same visceral emotions as I did in his presence, under his burning stare.

“I hope I’ll find a home in this town too, I haven’t been here for long, but it certainly feels a lot cosier than the big city had been for my whole life.” My tone turned a bit sour as I shifted on my feet, making the twins look at me curiously.

“You’re from Colourful River, right? It’s a big city, we always liked going there for random trips.” It made me wonder if Yunho and I had unknowingly run into each other before, but my inner wolf told me that we hadn’t. If we had been, I’m sure our parents would’ve never been able to separate us from each other, “It must’ve been nice living amongst humans.”

I tried not to stare at Yunho’s inviting plush lips while he spoke, but it was hard. Everything about him was so captivating, “Since the city is closer to the South than North, it isn’t dominated by humans, but they were rather alright, not as scared as all the legends say. But if you go up North they might not be as friendly as those living closer to the border.”

“Did you have human friends?” Mingi’s tone was eager as he grinned at me, and I didn’t want to disappoint him, but there was no point in lying to these two.

“I didn’t have many friends,” I muttered, chuckling a bit sadly, “But the humans were less evil compared to the night creatures.”

Silence settled upon the three of us as I didn’t look up at the two, but Yunho’s stare remained insistent. He had stepped closer meanwhile we had been conversing, and I hadn’t even noticed until his strong scent hit my nose once again, making me take a deep breath and gulp it down hungrily, thankful when it felt like the scent got stuck in my throat. I hadn’t experienced anything like this before, but the yearning to be close to him, to touch him and feel him was overwhelming all of a sudden as I looked up, finding Yunho’s head tilted as his eyes slowly racked over my body. It made my cheeks burn and my muscles tense, my wolf stirring in something that I could only call arousal. I have certainly not experienced anything like this before with anyone. I wondered if this meant anything deeper, whether imprinting on first sight was a real thing or only something made up for hopeless romantics.

“You’ll see finding friends here will be a lot easier than in the big city,” Mingi’s smile was warm and he reached a hand out to pat my arm, making Yunho’s eyebrows furrow as he looked at his twin sharply. Mingi just cast him a curious glance before his name was being called by his mother, her voice louder than the cacophony of the party, “Oh, I’ll be back after I see what mom needs from me.”

Then he left, jogging towards his mother with a smile. Yunho, however, took another step towards me, looming over me as his eyebrows furrowed, nostrils flaring as I gulped nervously, wondering whether he felt the same as I did. I wanted to ask, but I was embarrassed. He reached a hand forward, his fingers brushing against mine, but he seemed to catch himself as he took a step back, jaw set tightly. And then, without saying anything, he turned and hurried away, ignoring the people who called out his name. My heart raced as I watched him leave, suddenly feeling cold and empty. The wolf in my head whined and whispered at me to chase after him, to claim him and tell him that he was ours, but I couldn’t do that. Yunho had free reign of his feelings and thoughts, I couldn’t force something like that on him. We hadn’t even known each other five minutes ago, it would’ve been so wrong.

But what was even more wrong and more painful than anything I had experienced before was the fact that Yunho never looked my way again after that, remaining silent and avoidant, ignorant, he’d even flee the room if it was just the two of us. I didn’t even have the chance to have him before I lost him, and deep down, I knew I had been denied by my own mate. It was painful, but it wasn’t anything I could change, at least, it didn’t feel like it at the moment.

            With the Spring Break right around the corner, the hallways were liverier than before as students pilled together, eagerly discussing what they were up to once they’d return home. The professors seemed to be in a lighter mood as well, a lot friendlier too, and more understanding if someone slacked off a bit. Everyone but our Literature professor, who demanded we hand in our essays right before the week ended. Today was Friday and we’d be heading home tomorrow, I was hitchhiking with San’s family since they’d offered to drive us home as they were out of town and would drive by our Academy on their way home. San’s parents were busy businessmen so they were always on the go, oftentimes leaving San and his much older sister at home, who was a rather successful makeup artist in Nocturnal Parade and not just. She’d gotten an out-of-town offer just last month and the gig went well, so, she was now successfully expanding her business. But because I had been procrastinating my essay until the last moment, it meant that I had been cooped up in the Library this whole morning, and then later in the Study Hall as late evening was approaching.

My muscles ached from sitting in the same spot for so long and my eyes stung from being too dry, I had been staring at my laptop’s bright screen for an ungodly amount of time, if I wasn’t a werewolf I bet my eyesight would be horrible by now. Thankfully, the Study Hall was a lot less packed than usual, and the absence of students meant I could work in peace without distractions. That is until Yunho decided to walk into the vast room, eyes scanning the place and quickly jumping over my presence as my eyes burned into the side of his head. Of course, it was no surprise that I had been completely ignored by him once again, resigned, I went back to the finishing touch-ups of my essay. My heart ached and my hands felt cold now that I knew Yunho was in my vicinity, so close, yet miles away still. I gulped and willed myself to ignore his musky scent that seemed to haunt my every sense now, and I could’ve cheered when I was finally finished with the essay. I didn’t waste any more time sending it to my professor as I swiftly gathered my things and rushed out of the Study Hall, heart racing in my chest.

My muscles had been aching for an evening run and I knew I’d have to skip dinner tonight since I felt restless, my thoughts messy and filled with anxious whispers. Since most students were returning home tomorrow morning, it meant that the community would be organising a welcome home bonfire as soon as possible. The bonfires were great and I always had a good time, but it was inevitable to come across the Song family there since they were the main organizers of it. Just last year, when the Summer Break finally arrived, I had been squeezed between Wooyoung and, tragically, Yunho on a log, forced to endure Yunho’s rigid stance and complete ignorance as he chatted and laughed with everyone around us. My skin had been burning, not because of the close proximity to the fire, and my wolf was whining at me to touch him, to lean closer, to speak to Yunho. But I knew it was pointless, and thus, decided to save myself from embarrassment as I quickly excused myself and walked back home, rather glad that San wasn’t home to pester me about my sudden sour mood. San was a dear friend, but sometimes he was awful at giving me space, at understanding that I needed to be alone to figure my thoughts and feelings out.

That was why I never let him know when I’d go on runs, I preferred to be alone either way. The air wheezing past my ears, which were in tune with everything around me, was always freeing and relaxing. My jumbled thoughts became a silent murmur in the back of my mind as my paws hit the forest floor powerfully, strong and long legs carrying me far away from the Academy, from the campus, from any other possible wolf that I could come across. I liked solitary, it’s what I knew my whole life, it was comfortable and comforting. Whenever I let my wolf take over, it was as if I was reborn once I shifted back into my human form. I felt invincible as my burgundy fur gleamed under the setting sun rays, and I leered whenever another animal made haste in my presence. In my wolf form, everything felt simpler, more primitive, and less complicated. If I could, I would probably never shift back into my human form, but that was unethical and very unhealthy. I wasn’t a wolf, I was just a simple werewolf, and abandoning my human side would mean that I was going rogue. And lone, rogue, werewolves never survived for long. It wasn’t what we were designed for, so I couldn’t abandon my true self.

My run tonight had taken longer than usual, the forest was now dark as I returned to the shed that lay just on the outskirts of the campus, not too close, but not too far either in case of an emergency. I had found it on an early morning stroll with San, and I had been using it as my hideout ever since. It was a good spot for privacy while I’d change out of my clothes, away from prying eyes when I’d turn back into my human form, naked and unprotected. I wasn’t uncomfortable by nudity, after all, it was rather common and normal amongst werewolves to see each other bare, but I was shy, and thus, preferred to remain hidden from other’s eyes. San had joked once that I was a prude and old-fashioned, but I just simply wished that not everyone saw me so exposed, it was a tiny bit embarrassing even if it was very normal for our kin. So, the shed was the perfect spot for me to stay out of sight while being close enough to campus that if I was late for curfew I’d make it back swiftly and unnoticed, like tonight. I knew I probably had only a few minutes to make it back to the right wing, but as I had no devices on me, I wouldn’t know until I made it back to my clothes. San was certainly blowing up my phone by now, asking where I was and why I didn’t join him when it was quiz night—which only meant that I would question him about whichever lesson he had decided he didn’t know well enough, so really, it wasn’t a fun activity, but I loved San, so, I helped him out from time to time.

Taking a deep whiff of the air, waiting for a second to determine whether anyone was in my vicinity, I was glad when my wolf sensed nothing, so I nudged the shed’s door open with my fur-coated head and walked inside. The small lamp I had turned on cast a dim warm hue over the abandoned place, and I approached the table as I felt my bones shifting, my jaw locking in tight and my lungs constricting for a second. My joints popped and my head felt like it was splitting in two, but it all lasted for a second or two, until I was standing tall on my legs, hands reached out to stabilise myself on the table. Shifting wasn’t painful by any means, but it always left me a bit disoriented. The doctors in the city had told me it was because I was an early bloomer, my body forced to mature before its right time, so it wasn’t anything necessarily bad, just uncomfortable. As I regained my senses and shook my head to clear the dizziness, my muscles locked up and my wolf purred loudly, almost to the point it escaped past my own lips. Something was amiss. In the dim lighting, I noticed another heap of clothes thrown on the ground, just by the entrance. The scent too…it was familiar, too familiar, and I panicked. How had I missed it? Had I become so used to it that it didn’t faze my wolf anymore?

As I hastily tried to grab my clothes, nakedness be damned I’d get dressed on the way, the shed’s door was slammed open, a low grunt echoing in the otherwise silent space. My eyes widened as a gorgeous black wolf with orchid eyes stared back at me, huffing and puffing as saliva dripped from its mouth. It was big and strong, its vanilla and firewood scent a lot more permeating than before. My knees felt weak as my hands tightened into the table, holding myself up since my brain was short-circuiting. For a second, the big black wolf didn’t move, its snarl loud in the shed, but then, bones cracked and the black fur slowly disappeared as the wolf shifted into something more human looking, tall and lean, strong and…very naked. My eyes widened when I finally realised it was Yunho standing in the doorway, his eyes still orchid coloured as they bled into mine, and I was frozen as my wolf started whining, whispering to me to approach Yunho, to touch his hot and strong body, to entice him and make him claim us.

Yunho’s body was anything like I had seen before. He was alluring by all means, and the lower my eyes dropped the tighter my chest felt, the lump in my throat getting bigger and harder to ignore. I had seen many guys naked before, but they couldn’t compare to Yunho, everything about him was…big. My hands flattened against the surface of the table and I tilted my head before I could stop myself, well aware that my wolf was more in charge of me than my own conscience, my eyes a bright orchid as Yunho’s lips pressed into a straight line, his eyes not shy of taking in every curve of my body, his hands balling up into fists at his sides. It was hard to breathe, and it was even harder to control my bodily reactions when Yunho was so close, so exposed and vulnerable for taking. And maybe he was thinking the same thing because all of a sudden, we were moving towards each other, our eyes glimmering in the dim light and our chests heaving as I bared my fangs at Yunho, whose lips curled into a low snarl. I was so close to touching him, I could feel his body heat, but I knew I couldn’t. We weren’t ourselves just yet, the adrenaline coursed through our bodies from the run, and our wolves were stronger and louder than under normal circumstances. He would’ve been so easy to touch, though, as we stopped barely a few feet away from each other, desire written all over his features, but in a last attempt to find control over my body and mind, I snapped out under my wolf’s control.

I found my voice, but just barely, as my cheeks flushed a deep red, “I’m—I—I thought nobody knew of the shed, I—I’m, uh, I’m sorry for barging in. I didn’t know—I’ve never seen you here before, I—”

“Y/N.” Yunho’s voice was deeper than ever before, his round eyes dangerous as they were narrowed into slits, watching me closely. Just hearing my name said like that shut me up really fast as my heart raced in my chest, and I knew Yunho could hear it. It was so loud. I could’ve touched him, my wolf wanted it desperately, but Yunho wasn’t himself just yet, he didn’t look like it, “I’ve gone to this Academy for longer than you, of course I know about this place. Mingi and I come here all the time.”

I released a shuddering breath, forcing my eyes to stay on his face, anywhere but lower as I couldn’t trust myself and my wolf just yet. I really wanted to reach out and trace his firm muscles, to cradle him close to myself, to burry my face between his pecks, to lick the sweat beads that rolled down his navel, lower into his happy trail until they reached his— “You should go before Mingi returns.”

I jumped, mouth dry as I realised I was staring lower than I was supposed to, my whole chest and ears burning now, not just my cheeks, “I’m sorry.” I managed to mutter before I hurried back to the table and clumsily put on my clothes. I knew I looked like I had been mauled by how messy my hair was, my shirt untucked and one of the pantlegs rolled lower than the other, but I needed to leave before I’d do something I’d regret later. Yunho wasn’t mine, we weren’t mated, and I couldn’t do anything about it. But as I went to rush past him, he caught my wrist with frightening speed, his palm hot and large. I gulped but didn’t look at him, my eyes falling on the heap next to his clothes, very clearly Mingi’s now that he had pointed it out.

“You shouldn’t show yourself to just anyone, Y/N, it’s lowly.” The pang in my heart was more painful than anything I had experienced before. What did he mean by that? I had literally been on out a run, of course, I wasn’t showing myself to just anyone, it was only normal I was naked, or was I supposed to shift while wearing my clothes only to rip them apart? Besides, who had permitted him to say such things when he was the biggest manwhore I had known to date?! His words hadn’t just hurt me, they ignited an angry fire deep in my veins that had lay dormant for too long.

“Is it lowly shifting back into my human form after a run, Yunho? Really?” I chuckled humourlessly, my next words coming out in a snare as I looked at him with a glare, “You’re rather quick to judge me when you have no shame sleeping with half of the Academy, shouldn’t that be considered lowly?”

Before Yunho could say anything and before I could regret the words I had just spoken, I stormed off, flinching as I almost collided with a large white wolf, its head tilted in confusion as we stared at each other for a second. I gulped and averted my orchid-coloured eyes, “Hello, Mingi.”

The wolf huffed and bowed his head slightly, and despite wanting to flee, I pushed the door open for him as the wolf let out an appreciative whine, its eyes switching between Yunho and me once it was halfway inside the shed. But I didn’t wait around to hear Mingi’s questions as I rushed back to campus, checking my phone to see five missed calls from San and ten even angrier texts than the voicemails he left, clearly upplaying his sadness. I could hear Wooyoung’s witchy cackle in the background as he no doubt was playing on San’s new PlayStation. A quick text later, I let San know that I had lost track of time while I was on my run and that we’d see each other during breakfast the next morning. Sneaking around the dorms to sleep in San’s bed tonight would’ve been worth, if only my heart and mind weren’t in turmoil, aching all over again due to Yunho’s nasty and undeserved assumptions. I had no idea why he acted so differently with me, it’s like he was a completely different person in my presence, and I didn’t enjoy it. It hurt me deeply. What had I done to deserve such coldness from him?

            The ride home with the Chois was filled with laughter and sharing stories, the radio lowered once San and I started telling them about the Academy and our classes. San’s family had always felt like a second family to me. They were warm and very loving people, even if I had initially struggled to warm up to them, they had never pushed or pried for any information, no matter how insignificant it was. Thus, I came to trust them rather quickly since Mrs. Choi loved baking and would often invite me over during the holidays. Besides, I’d always leave with a basketful of whichever cookies Mrs. Choi decided to bake that day, and since my mother has a sweet tooth, she was always more than eager to send me over to the Chois to help them out. San’s parents' business trip was successful and they managed to expand their branches to the North as well, which would require them frequent trips to Aurora Falls, which was the biggest human settlement in our country. It seemed that there were human investors who were eager to expand their businesses to the South, which would benefit them a lot since their franchises were mostly nonexistent around here. It was a day to celebrate, which the Chois were really good at doing. I knew they’d smuggle in some really expensive champagne tonight to the bonfire, after all, they did everything with grandeur.

My parents had been lounging around the front porch when the Chois's expensive SUV pulled up in front of our humble abode, my mother’s face had lit up like a Christmas tree as she came to welcome me home, and the Chois as well. After quick hugs and kisses, the Chois were off and I was left with my parents, who were smiling from ear to ear.

“Look at you!” My father had said as he engulfed me in a bear hug and spun me around, making me giggle into his chest, “You’re radiating, what are they feeding you at the Academy?”

“Mrs. Nam’s cooking is really delicious, but I don’t think it’s because of the food.” I giggled as my feet had finally touched the ground. My mother stood to the side, my duffle bag already in her hand as she shook her head at our antics, “I suspect it’s the clear air and the vast forest grounds.”

“You’re still running on your own?” My mother’s eyebrows had furrowed as I walked up to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders as we headed for the house. The rumble of a loud engine reached our ears as we took the steps up the porch. I knew whose car it was, it was hard to miss when nobody else’s car engine was as loud as the Song twins, “Mrs. Song told me her sons had proposed to go on runs with you, but you’ve turned them down each time. I know we’re all still adjusting to living in a pack, but having company on your runs is actually very healthy for you and your wolf, my dear.”

I wished to correct my mother that it had been Mingi who had proposed to come on runs with me, no mention of Yunho. We had crossed paths once while we were both out hunting during a full moon and because my cramps had been really bad that day, Mingi was nice enough to remain a respectable distance away and guide me for the night, keeping an eye out for other not-so-kind predators. There were months when my shifting went a little haywire during the full moon, my senses dull and my bones all miss shaped. Again, the doctors hadn’t found anything wrong with me, they suspected it was due to my early blooming, which wasn’t helping much. As we reached the front door, my father already opening it for us, the honk of a loud car made us turn back and look towards the orange Jeep, its windows rolled down, and the younger Song siblings cooped up in the backseat.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Byun!” Mingi called from the driver’s seat, all smiles as his glasses looked to be slipping off his nose. Wooyoung was just as enthusiastic as he leaned out the window, the car going at a slow pace now that they had almost reached their house.

“See you tonight, right?!” Wooyoung shouted as he grinned widely, pointing specifically at me, “Can’t leave Sannie on his own, right?!”

“Right.” My voice didn’t have much force to it as my eyes stalled on Yunho, who was facing the windshield, his jaw set tight as he looked at Mingi and said something inaudible. I released a quiet sigh as we stepped through the doorway, my parents sharing a laugh at the siblings' antics. I tried to ignore the lump in my throat, the fire in my veins, the ache of my heart. Yunho’s hurtful words were still too fresh in my mind, the look in his eyes and the vivid image of his body a constant image in the front of my mind. It wasn’t surprising that I was still thinking about him. We had encountered each other just last night, after all, but I wished we never had. It was hard to ignore the yearning, especially when we were back at home, forced to visit the Songs weekly since our parents had grown so close with each other. I was happy for them, don’t misunderstand me, but I wished the Song parents stopped blaming my ‘loneliness’ on being an only child, thus forcing me to constantly hang out with their children. I didn’t have any issues with the five of them, per se, but I hardly found anything I had in common with them—minus Yunho, since he wouldn’t even look my way, let alone have a conversation with me.

“You should tell San to sleep over tonight, maybe his parents can stay too!” My father’s words distracted me from my thoughts as I headed for the stairs, eager to fall into my comfortable bed, no Yeri to disturb my peace this time.

“Honey, they had barely returned home, let the Chois enjoy having their son home for at least three more days.” My mother gently chastised my father as she headed up the stairs after me, my duffle bag still in her hand, “He’ll sleep over before they go back to the Academy.”

“Fine, but I found a really cool book about genealogy, I’m sure he’d love reading through it.”

“Sure, honey, sure.” My mother and I shared an amused look which made us chuckle, my father’s mumbled words blending into the background as he was headed for his study room, surely eager to get back to whatever book he was reading this time, “Get some sleep before lunch, Mama Song asked us to head over before they set the bonfire, she’s making a new mushroom stew recipe she’d like us to try.”

“Yeah, okay,” I mumbled as I fell face-first into my pillows, groaning loudly as my muscles finally eased up, my body cocooned in the safety of my own scent. Finally, a little peace of mind.

But that peace of mind didn’t last for long. The Song household was buzzing with life and laughter even before the other members of our community had started joining the bonfire. The mushroom stew was beyond delicious, and if I wasn’t too shy, I would’ve asked for a second plate but decided I could sneak in sometime during the evening and have a second plate, I knew Mrs. Song wouldn’t mind since she was generous like that. Lunch went surprisingly well, mostly with everyone talking over each other, especially Wooyoung, Yeri, and Mr. Song, but that was to be expected. The Songs were very eccentric people and their household had always been chaotic. However, what did take me by surprise was the presence of a newcomer, someone who wasn’t a werewolf. Her hair was dark and fell in long curls, her skin pale and her eyes very sharp, her lips the colour of blood and her stance very elegant. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought she hated us, but anytime Mingi looked at her she’d smile at him and her heartbeat would waver whenever he laughed. It wasn’t hard to guess that she was the Petrova heir, the youngest vampire of the Bae’s. Knowing so much about them, thanks to my father, sitting at a table with her now felt surreal.

She didn’t look like she wanted to talk much, but when my father’s innocent curiosity got the best of him and he started asking questions, she seemed rather pleased that she could gloat about her family. Her tone was sharp and she spoke rather straightforwardly, yet it was somehow obvious she didn’t mean bad. She was a peculiar person and I felt immense respect for her, no real reason as to why, maybe it’s because I thought she was very cool. I wasn’t brave enough to speak to her, so, besides stolen glances and a few shared glances, no words passed between the two of us. Besides, she was an amazing distraction to preoccupy my busy mind since conveniently Yunho and I ended up sitting next to each other. His body was warm, his scent almost tangible, and with every bite I took of my stew, it felt as if Yunho’s sandalwood scent was deep in my throat, forcing me to gulp down copious amounts of water as if I was sitient all the time. Yunho sat rigidly next to me, his body mostly turned away from me and facing Dahyun, his youngest sister, who looked absent-minded as she played with her fork, occasionally staring at Mingi if he made the vampire girl laugh. She carried Mingi’s scent and a bite mark was visible on her nape, it wasn’t hard to guess what she and Mingi were. Mates.

Thankfully, after lunch was over, San shortly arrived too and I could escape from the Song family, from Yunho, walking around the back garden as we searched for timber that would be good for the bonfire. Wooyoung, of course, came to join us and Dahyun was quick to do so too, with Mingi and Yunho busy setting up the back garden as our parents all helped. The vampire girl was busy in the kitchen, apparently, she could bake really yummy muffins, so she was busy doing just that. Once everything was set and people were coming over, Wooyoung sneaked off to bring us cans of beer, San cheering as we all uncapped ours, clinking them together loudly. The cold sparkling drink burned my parched throat as I wolfed it down, making San chuckle as Wooyoung was busy checking his friend’s free hand for splinters. I said nothing as a blush covered San’s cheeks, his eyes fond, as Wooyoung fussed about his friend.

“Mom said she’d leave us a little bit of champagne,” San grinned as he switched the hand holding his can of beer, Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed as his fingers gently traced San’s free palm, “It’ll be in the highest cupboard.”

“Only Mingi and Yunho can reach that high, though,” Wooyoung mumbled with a pout, still holding onto San’s hand despite being done with his inspection. I chuckled as San gave Wooyoung a look, his chest almost puffing out more.

“Are you sure about that?” He raised a straight eyebrow, leaning closer to Wooyoung’s face. I watched with intrigue as Wooyoung slightly caved in on himself, gulping almost nervously. His heartbeat remained steady, though, so I couldn’t tell for sure whether San’s proximity made him nervous, “Who got that stuck ball off the basket last time, I don’t reckon it was your brothers?”

“Well,” Wooyoung huffed, averting his eyes when San only leaned closer. I almost grinned when Wooyoung’s heart very loudly skipped a beat, but his eyebrows furrowed as he swiftly straightened himself, giving San a pointed look, “You can jump high. And I suppose you have strong arms, it was sheer luck, really.”

Before the two could start bickering, I chuckled and reached a hand out towards Wooyoung, “Won’t you check my hands for blisters too?”

Wooyoung seemed a little bit too eager to scurry off the log he was sharing with San as he kneeled in front of me, taking my hand into his. I chuckled and looked at San as I took a swing of my beer, Wooyoung’s warm fingers tracing lines as he hummed under his breath, turning my palm over, “You have pretty hands, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” I said, then switched my hands as Wooyoung continued to inspect them, a flush appearing on his face when San reached out to pet his hair since it was tousled by the wind earlier. It had settled now into a pleasant evening breeze. The chatter, music, and laughter coming from around the bonfire felt nice, warm. As I gazed at the fire, I was greeted by the sight of werewolves cosying up and sharing drinks and stories. I’ve never had this in the big city, it felt really nice to be surrounded by creatures that had your back even if they didn’t know you well.

Wooyoung chuckled, his finger digging into my skin, right underneath my pinkie, “Yunho has the same exact moles here too, on the same hand as well.”

My body froze as San’s eyebrows raised, he quickly scurried off the log to join Wooyoung crouching in front of me. I tried to keep the smile on my face, but the taste in my mouth soured as I looked down at the three moles that I’ve always had on my left palm, right underneath my pinkie finger.

“Really?” San sounded surprised and excited at the same time, “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Wooyoung scoffed as he gave San a side glance, “He’s my brother, I know him. He’s always said that they look like stars. Before our sisters were born, he’d said they represented him, Mingi, and me. Of course, the closest to the one he called himself was Mingi because they are twins and blah blah, sometimes this twin thing gets old.”

“You’re just jealous.” San teased Wooyoung as my eyes were stuck on the three moles, something in my stomach dropping. I’ve always said the three dots looked like stars and represented my family: my mom, my father, and me. We’d always be there for each other, close by, looking over one another. Wooyoung and San’s voices drowned out as they started bickering about whether Mingi and Yunho had a deeper bond than any other werewolf due to them being twins, but my mind was spinning with this new piece of information. It suddenly felt wrong having those moles there, especially since Yunho didn’t want to have to do anything with me. I gulped, retracting my hand from Wooyoung’s hold as I stood abruptly, taking the two guys off guard.

“Uhm, I’ll just see what my parents are up to if you don’t mind…” I knew my scent had soured, San’s furrowed eyebrows told me he had realised something had upset me. But I just smiled and patted Wooyoung’s head before I walked around my friends, my heart slightly racing as the chilly evening seemed to bite at my nose, making me sniff harder and harder by the time I reached my parents, who were talking to the Academy’s Principal, Mr. Kim.

“Oh, Miss Byun,” The Principal was the first one to spot me, and he smiled as my parents beckoned me even closer, “I was just complimenting you. Ever since Miss Yeri started rooming with you, her grades not only went up but she’s been better behaved too.”

“Oh, uhm, that’s great.” I tried to even out my expression, praying that my parents wouldn’t question my souring mood, “I didn’t do much, just asked her to follow some rules. She also asked if I could sometimes help her out with her homework.”

“Fascinating,” The Principal muttered as my parents looked at me proudly, making me feel a little bit shy, “I knew letting her room with Miss Son wasn’t too smart, those two gave me more headache than the ruling board does on the daily.”

The Principal’s comment had my parents laughing, the shared glance between them amused, and suddenly I realised I’d never have that. I would never have a mate that stood by my side, cosied up to me, spoke to me about whatever insanity crossed their minds, no shared understanding glances, no cheek or neck nuzzles, no unbreakable bond, nothing. My jaw tightened as the air spiked with sandalwood and vanilla, and I hoped it would pass by before the tears could spring into my eyes. But the Universe seemed to be working against me today because the Principal caught Yunho’s bicep before he could stalk off, his expression soft and his eyes questioning. He hadn’t noticed my presence yet, because I knew his round eyes would turn harsh and his pouty lips would pull into a straight line the second he noticed me. His outgrown hair was tousled by the breeze, long strands framing his face handsomely as they brushed against his nape, some strands darker than the others.

“Mr. Song, fancy seeing you.” The Principal patted Yunho’s strong back with a proud smile, “I was just telling Mr. and Mrs. Byun how your little sister has been improving both academically and behaviour-wise too.”

“Oh,” Yunho’s pale cheeks flushed with colour as he slightly bowed, I could see my parents practically fawn over him. He was handsome, too handsome, everyone around here was in love with him whether they wanted to be or not, “I know my siblings give you a lot of headaches, but if it helps, you’ll have to deal with fewer of us after this year.”

The Principal laughed as he shook his head, “Between you and me, I’d rather have you and Mingi attend the Academy for five more years than your younger siblings, although Dahyun is a sweet girl despite being odd.”

Even if the comment wasn’t well received by Yunho, his left eye twitched slightly and his smile looked a bit forced all of a sudden, he just chuckled and bowed his head again, “They’ll mature with time, Mingi and I did too.”

“Indeed, that is true.” Then the Principal was suddenly facing me, and I noticed the way Yunho’s eyes slightly widened as if he actually hadn’t noticed me standing just a few feet away, “You’d be surprised to hear that Yunho was unstoppable as a child, we had to sedate him more than once during his runs. He also struggled to shift back until he became ten, isn’t that peculiar?”

Before Yunho could interject, however, my mother spoke up to my horror, “My daughter still struggles to shift, being an early bloomer is really straining.”

“I’m not an early bloomer, though.” Yunho’s tone was a bit harsher, but I bet nobody noticed but me as his eyes bore into mine, his face void of any emotion. I sighed and looked away, trying to push the image of his exposed collarbones due to his unbuttoned shirt out of my head. His cheeks seemed unnaturally pink, he must’ve used some blush before coming down for the bonfire.

“Sometimes when mates—”

“I think we should leave the younglings alone, no?” My father cut the Principal off with a charming smile as I looked at him, slightly taken aback. Nobody knew Yunho and I were supposed to be mates, not even Yunho, I hadn’t told a soul. I doubt my father knows, he must’ve misinterpreted Yunho and my exchange as I winced and he just cleared his throat, sounding uncomfortable. Then, without wasting another second, my father was rushing us towards the bonfire, my mother laughing at something the Principal said as I turned to look at my dad. He was smiling gently and winked when he caught my stare, making me question whether he truly was oblivious to whether I had already found my mate or not. Yunho and I marched towards the bonfire wordlessly, and I flinched when I felt his warm knuckles brush against the back of my hand, but almost as if it was a fragment of my imagination, Yunho was beelining it towards a log on which a girl I didn’t know sat, next to her Yeri with a bored expression on her face.

“Yunho!” The unknown girl called out, making grabby hands at him. I watched as Yunho grinned and sat next to her, leaning into her space as the girl instantly flushed. My stomach coiled as I averted my eyes towards the fire, feeling its warmth slowly seep into my bones, but my muscles didn’t ease up, they remained tense.

“Did you miss me, baby?” I tried not to whine as my wolf told me to pounce on the girl and drag her into the forest and show her what happens to those who touch Yunho, but I would’ve looked completely insane if I had done that. Yunho wasn’t done speaking, however, and I felt eyes on me which made my skin crawl, “I got held up, but I’m all yours now.”

I tried not to feel sick as I chanced a glance towards Yunho, who was looking at me with a smirk. I could feel tears threatening to appear in my eyes, I didn’t want to look pathetic, however, Yeri seemed to save me from the shame, “Dude, did you get me a beer?”

“Of course, I did.” Yunho chuckled, finally looking away from me, “Just don’t tell mom or Wooyoung.”

“I won’t, chill out.” Yeri scoffed as she opened her can of beer, grinning to herself in triumph, “My room is yours tonight, then.”

They shared a look and I released a shaky breath as I had decided that I needed a moment away from everything. I knew everyone could smell my spiked scent and hear my heart thudding in an uneven rhythm, I didn’t want them staring at me, so I quickly hurried inside the house and headed for the kitchen hoping it was deserted. Maybe I’d find that bottle of champagne San was talking about and help myself to it, I knew nobody would mind. The kitchen was dark when I stepped through the archway, so I quickly felt around the wall for the light switch and gasped when light flooded the kitchen. When I got too into my head, I completely missed other scents or heartbeats around me, otherwise the vampire girl wouldn’t have taken me off guard. She tilted her head and raised an amused eyebrow as she nibbled on a cherry.

“Did I scare you?” She asked, her tone still cold, “I thought werewolves have heightened senses too.”

“Uh, we do.” I muttered as I walked further inside the kitchen, “I was distracted.”

“Why is that?” The girl asked, looking curious as her expression slightly shifted.

“No reason.” I lied as I opened a cupboard and grabbed a tall glass.

“Are you drinking wine?” She looked surprised as I walked to the cupboard I knew the champagne was hidden in, “Can I have some too?”

I paused and considered her question for a second, then shrugged, “Sure, but it’s champagne.”

“Good, I like that more.” She smirked as she grabbed a tall glass too, then approached me. She was cold, she lacked the warmth werewolves emanated, but her scent was oddly not exactly hers. I studied her from my peripheral as I got on my tiptoes and grabbed the bottle of champagne. I had been around the Songs for long enough to know them by scent, and she very strongly reeked of Mingi. There was no further information needed to know they really were mated if only someone failed to notice her bite mark. The vampire girl said nothing as I opened the bottle of champagne, mindful of leaving some for San and Wooyoung as I poured the bubbly drink for the vampire before for myself. I could feel her eyes on me, studying me closely, and then she hummed, leaning her hip against the counter, “I might not be a werewolf, but you absolutely stink. Don’t get me wrong, all werewolves do besides Mingi, but your scent is very bothersome right now.”

I gulped, feeling my cheeks heating up as I placed the bottle of champagne back into the cupboard. Getting told that you stink certainly wasn’t very nice, but I knew firsthand that werewolves had distinctive scents, perhaps vampires weren’t too fond of it. Not that I knew much about vampires, there were few in Colourful River and they seemed to frolic more with the humans since they were their blood bags. Still, her comment only worsened my mood as I handed her one of the glasses, trying not to grimace.

“Sorry, I’ll try to keep it down next time,” I muttered over the rim of my glass, and then I took a bigger gulp than necessary. The vampire girl watched me with a raised eyebrow as she took a small sip, savouring the sweet taste unlike me. I didn’t like the amused glint in her eyes, it felt as if she was looking down on me, but I really wasn’t up for a confrontation right now.

“As much as I would love to insult you right now,” My eyes widened as the vampire girl sighed, “Over the past year I learned that when your scent turns sour, or just becomes really unbearable to me, it means that you’re upset. So, I didn’t mean to further upset you, I’m just not very good at understanding how werewolves function.”

I chuckled under my breath as my next words escaped before I could stop myself, “Funny you say that when you’re surrounded by werewolves only right now. Why do you even hang around us if you can’t stand us?”

Despite expecting harsh words as an answer to my jab, the vampire looked dejected as she leaned back into the counter, sighing loudly as she averted her eyes, “If it wasn’t for Mingi and I being—mates, then I certainly wouldn’t be here. When I was young, I had a really bad encounter with a rogue wolf and I have hated you all ever since, but I can’t deny the pull I feel towards Mingi, it’s weird, but it’s there. And when I had tried ignoring it, it had hurt the both of us, so I’m here now, trying to still embrace the fact that now I’m part of this pack that I’ve hated my whole life and of the family that’s been getting on my nerves ever since they moved to Nocturnal Parade.”

I hummed in surprise and took another sip of my drink, now suddenly understanding why the Song twins had reacted with disdain when I had brought up the Petrova family a year ago, I assume she and Mingi weren’t together yet then.

“It must’ve been hard accepting Mingi, then.” The girl’s cold exterior slowly melted away as she looked at me with surprise. I suppose she had been judged by many for her prejudices, but didn’t everyone have some? I couldn’t completely blame her for them, “Seeing a werewolf and a vampire together isn’t uncommon, but I haven’t heard of them being mated before. Do you mind if I ask how that happened?”

The vampire chuckled as she turned her head towards the window, gazing out as she took another sip of her champagne, “We were drunk and had sex. I, apparently, bit Mingi where his scent gland is and triggered his imprinting. It feels weird to think about it, that maybe we would’ve never ended up together otherwise, but I don’t think that’s true. I think I had always liked Mingi, my hatred had just gotten in the way of me realising my true feelings for him.”

I hummed, gaining a new perspective on their relationship. I have heard bits and pieces from Yeri, even Wooyoung sometimes, but Mingi’s younger sister was mostly speaking ill of the Petrova girl. Yeri didn’t like the vampire at all and never failed to go on angry rants about how much she wanted to rip Mingi’s mate apart, but she couldn’t because she’d been accepted by the family, so the vampire girl was now untouchable. Speaking to the vampire, however, wasn’t as awful as Yeri made me think it would be. She faced me again, her head tilted as she looked at me with a curious expression on her face.

“What’s your story? I don’t think we had spoken before, right?” She asked as I shook my head, plastering on a small smile.

“We moved here a year ago, the big city just wasn’t for us anymore.” I shrugged, then traced the edge of the counter with my finger as I averted my eyes from the vampire, “Nothing is interesting about me, I think I’m just a regular, boring, werewolf. I did make a friend, though, it’s Choi San, if you know him?”

“Of course, I do,” The vampire scoffed, rolling her eyes as if hearing my best friend’s name was irritating to her, “Wooyoung never shuts up about him, if I wouldn’t have known better, I’d suspect he’s in love with San.”

That caught my attention as I perked up, subconsciously leaning closer to the vampire. It felt as if she was wearing a patch of Mingi’s familiar scent, it was almost endearing if it wouldn’t have reminded me of the fact that I’d never have this with Yunho, “Really? You think Wooyoung is in love with San?”

The girl chuckled, looking at me with a smirk, “I wouldn’t want to assume such a thing, but you must know Wooyoung is very irritating, so he only settles down when I threaten to tell San he’s always gushing about him behind his back. That must mean something, no?”

I bit my lower lip, buzzing with excitement at the prospect of Wooyoung returning San’s feelings. However, I’d have to trade forward with this information very smartly, I didn’t want to ruin something that apparently had so much potential. I only wanted to see San happy with the person he loved with his whole might.

“I hope it means something,” I muttered into my glass as I took another sip, making the vampire girl’s eyes gain a mischievous glint. I hoped she wouldn’t say anything that would set back the two boys' relationship, but maybe I had finally gained an insider who could help me give tips to San to push their relationship a step forward.

“Interesting,” She mumbled as she took another sip as well, raising an eyebrow, “What about you, though? I know you’re rooming with Yeri, for which you have my condolences, but you’re connected to this family in more ways, right?”

I felt my palms sweat all of a sudden, “What do you mean?”

“I have sharp eyes, and very sensitive hearing. What’s between you and Yun—”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” I would’ve looked guilty even to a newcomer by how quick I was to shut down the vampire’s question and assumption, she hadn’t even fully spelled Yunho’s name yet. I gulped, feeling my heartbeat pick up, then I averted my eyes and hoped she would just drop the subject…but she didn’t.

“It’s not my place to say what I’m about to say next, but be careful.” My eyebrows furrowed as I dared take a peek at her from between my eyelashes, “The Song twins aren’t bad creatures, they really aren’t, but Yunho is…a jackass, simply put. He’s dated Seulgi, my friend, and things were really messy between them. I hear now he’s messing around with a girl who finished the Academy last year, I just don’t want to see you end up like Seulgi. You seem like a genuine werewolf, kind-hearted too, I would hate to see Yunho destroy it all. It’s not my place at all, I know, but maybe just let it be? Maybe it’s better if you’re not meant to be, you know?”

But we are meant to be, I wanted to say it, I wanted to snap at her, but she knew better. If she could see it, a complete outsider, then who was I to correct her? She had known Yunho for longer than me, she probably didn’t have any bad intentions by warning me, but it still hurt. I gulped and downed the last of my champagne, knowing that my scent had soured once again. I came here to escape everything that was Yunho, yet, he was the subject once again. I hated it, but I couldn’t do anything about it. As long as the both of us lived in this town, Yunho would somehow always be the subject, he was too popular and well-liked by the others.

“No, you’re right, I—” I paused when I realised I sounded shaky, “I don’t even like him, don’t worry. I know the type of guy he is, I won’t mingle with him. I’m glad you found Mingi, his scent is all over you, by the way.”

The vampire blushed all of a sudden, it surprised me, but I was glad I had successfully diverted the subject from Yunho. She had a fond look on her face as she tried to save herself with a loud scoff, downing her champagne quickly, “Mingi isn’t too possessive, but since I don’t have a scent as you guys do, he’s scenting me all the time. It was annoying at the beginning, but he wouldn’t stop, so, I just had to accept the fact that everyone would know I was with him now. It’s kind of endearing, but don’t let him know, please! His ego is already through the roof.”

I chuckled, wondering what she was talking about because Mingi was one of the nicest creatures I had ever met. We weren’t very close, but he always stopped to talk to me if we crossed paths in the hallways, and during the summer break, he’d even come over sometimes with baked goods, eager to discuss whatever book he’d lately read. I liked Mingi, he was nice to me and my family, sometimes perhaps too nice. Silence settled between the vampire girl and me, so I decided it was my time to excuse myself and join San and Wooyoung in the back garden once again. Surprisingly, I felt more at ease after speaking to the Petrova girl, I had always thought she was intimidating and too cold, but she was a lot nicer than I have been told. I cleared my throat and pointed towards the archway, an awkward smile making it onto my face.

“I’ll head back outside if you don’t mind.” But as I took off, she called out for me to stop.

“Wait,” The vampire cleared her throat and looked a bit embarrassed as she dug into her pocket, her lips pursed as she avoided making eye contact, “So, uhm, Dahyun forced me today to make some shitty bracelets with her and, honestly, I can’t give this shit to any of my friends, they aren’t werewolves.”

I quirked an eyebrow as she took her hand out of her pocket, then extended it towards me without meeting my eyes. Her palm opened and a simple, but pretty, brown leather bracelet sat in it. I chuckled, reaching for it with an amused smile. The bracelet was braided and it had a cute wood wolf charm, it looked like it was howling upon closer inspection. I was just about to make a playful comment about it when I noticed a very similar bracelet peeking out from underneath the sleeve of her blouse. The only difference was that the leather was a lighter brown than mine, so, I swallowed down my comment and instead looked at her with a big smile.

“Thank you!” It oddly felt like a friendship offer too, but I didn’t want to get too ahead of myself. Maybe she just genuinely didn’t want to give it to her other friends, maybe she was embarrassed to do so, “It’s really pretty.”

“Whatever,” The vampire grumbled as she lowered her hand, fidgeting with her bracelet absentmindedly, “That little animal forced me to—not that I’m calling Dahyun an animal, or other werewolves, I—well.”

I laughed quietly as I wore the bracelet, looking at it for a longer second before I grinned at the Petrova girl, “Don’t worry, I get what you’re saying. We are animals, after all, and since you’ve already brought that up, please be a little nicer to Yeri, I can’t keep listening to her whine about you.”

“I hate that brat.” The vampire scowled, but quickly caught herself, “I mean, sure, I’ll try to be nicer…sort of.”

I chuckled and raised my hand to wriggle my wrist, the wolf charm moving around, “Friends, maybe?”

The vampire seemed to think for a second before she smiled, a real smile that reached her sharp eyes too, “Yeah, friends.”

I felt rather happy as I left the kitchen, fulfilled even, that I had managed to befriend another creature, and this was the Petrova, well now Bae, heir on top of it all. It made me feel excited as I hurried out of the house, planning to tell San and even Wooyoung, but I almost collided with two creatures once out on the porch. The girl's giggles became quiet as my wide eyes stared up into Yunho’s equally surprised ones, but then, his grip tightened around the girl’s waist and he was suddenly manoeuvring themselves around me, a dark look crossing Yunho’s features. I gulped, my heart racing as I heard the girl mutter something about me to Yunho, and then both were laughing. It was fine, I was alright. Yunho was free to do however he pleased, he didn’t owe me anything, no explanations or promises. But my wolf howled inside my mind, a harsh ache suddenly hitting my insides, freezing me into my spot for a second as I gasped for air. I wondered if this exact feeling was the same as the vampire and Mingi had experienced when they tried ignoring their bond. If yes, it made me wonder how was I strong enough to still be going and acting as if Yunho wasn’t my mate, as if his ignorance wasn’t slowly killing me on the inside. All I wanted was to crumble to the ground and let the sobs wreck my body, but instead, I tried to clear my mind and find San’s scent to cosy up with him, burry my pain deep down, and revel in the safety my best friend had always offered me.

But as I finally reached my best friend, he was sitting by the bonfire with a very drunk Wooyoung stuck to his side, arms around San’s middle as his head was pressed into San’s collarbones. We made eye contact and San’s eyes were sparkling with elation and something else as he gestured with his head subtly at Wooyoung, so I knew I couldn’t bother them. I didn’t want to ruin their moment, I could basically smell just how happy, and drunk, San was. I would’ve been a terrible friend if I had walked up to them just to mop around without telling them the real reason for my displeasure, so I decided to just head home for the night. The champagne had left my blood buzzing, and even though I wasn’t tipsy, I knew how my night would end. I’d bury myself deep underneath my pillows and blanket and cry myself to sleep, letting out my wails since nobody would be able to hear me. My parents wouldn’t return for a few more hours, so I could just wallow in misery as loudly as I wanted to. But to leave, I had to grab my jacket first, which was in Wooyoung’s room courtesy to San who had thrown our jackets somewhere on his bed.

The house was silent as I made my way back inside, the kitchen dark once again, and since I couldn’t hear a second heartbeat, I knew the vampire girl had left, probably, to find Mingi. I realised I was fiddling with the wolf charm as I made my way up the stairs, my body covered in goosebumps for no reason. I had been inside this house multiple times, I knew where everything was, but for some reason, my intuition was telling me to turn around and just go home without my jacket. My wolf was basically whimpering in my mind, trying to convince me to turn around as I stepped off the last stair, ears picking up on a faint noise. The hallway wasn’t too narrow but it was long, and Wooyoung’s room was next to the upstairs bathroom, across from Yeri’s. The scents were so mingled up here that I couldn’t tell whether anyone was upstairs, so I just hoped I didn’t run into anyone because I wasn’t capable of conversing right now. I felt spent, upset, and heartbroken at the same time. I knew this would happen, I’d get ignored by Yunho once again, but it still stung each time it happened, I thought I had gotten used to it. Maybe I was reacting this badly because he had insulted me last night as well, and now his actions from tonight were also bugging me.

The faint noises got louder the closer I got to Wooyoung’s room, and with slight terror, I realised they sounded like hushed whispers and muffled moans. Glancing towards Yeri’s room, the door had been left slightly ajar, and despite dread filling my stomach, I found myself walking towards it, eyebrows furrowed once I picked up on a foreign citrusy scent. That, however, was the least of my worries as Yunho’s intoxicating sandalwood and vanilla scent carried through the air in intense pumps, twisting something in my lower stomach, and making my mouth go dry. It was so intoxicating that I found myself creeping towards the door, my breath baited and my hands slightly trembling as my wolf whined at me to barge inside and let Yunho have us, ravish us. But the small crack left by the door being ajar was enough for me to see inside the dim room, making my heart drop in seconds. The girl Yunho had been hanging out with all night was on her knees in front of Yunho as he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands as his mouth hung open, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes squeezed shut as low moans left his swollen lips. I couldn’t pry my eyes away from Yunho’s face despite the sudden urge to cry as my wolf howled loudly, making my blood boil now that I knew for sure others could have Yunho like this. At a particularly high-pitched moan, Yunho’s eyes snapped open and found mine through the crack of the door, making me gasp loudly as I jumped back, feeling disgusted and full of rage at the same time. It wasn’t fair of Yunho to constantly push me away, whether he knew I was his mate or not, and it wasn’t fair that he could easily mess around with others while I was forced to suffer and watch him from afar. I didn’t stall any longer, I was out of the house before I could hear more of the sounds they were making, Yunho’s strong scent burning my throat even the next morning.

            The Spring Break passed by in a frenzy, and I had barely gotten any rest while I was home for the week. Every invite to the Songs I had turned down, disgusted at the thought of facing Yunho after everything. I didn’t want to see him, I didn’t want to hear him, I didn’t want to smell him. I had made up my mind. If he didn’t want me, I wouldn’t want him either anymore. I have yearned enough after someone I’d never have, so, I decided what’s enough is enough. I knew the change wouldn’t happen overnight, especially when my wolf snarled at me anytime I pushed the thought of Yunho away, whining loudly whenever he came up in a conversation. My wolf wasn’t happy with my decision, but I was the one in control, and I was done being hurt all the time. I missed the serenity I once had before meeting Yunho and the rest of the Songs, but if finally living the life my parents had always wished for came with the price of finding an unrequited mate, then I could live with that for now. Perhaps if I went far enough from here then the bond would somehow finally completely break. I could only hope that was the case and I wouldn’t get somehow incurably sick, I’ve heard of it happening before, and it scared me.

Today had been a long day, I felt tired and my back muscles were aching from having been sitting all day long, my brain sore from having been paying close attention in my classes. My notebooks were filled with notes, there was not a second to rest now that we were back at the Academy. San and I had wandered on our own paths sometime during the afternoon, his classes different from mine, besides, I knew he liked working out before going for his run, where he’d most probably be joined by Wooyoung. He had texted me asking whether I wanted to join the two of them, but I had politely declined. San knew I liked being on my own, so he never pushed me if I wasn’t feeling up to it. I always enjoyed my runs more on the Academy grounds than back at home, because here the forest was large and I rarely ran into other wolves while being out there. At home, the boundaries were clearly fenced in, to keep us from wandering too far into the Haunted Woods and getting lost. Other creatures than us, more ferocious ones, lurked deep in the forest, and some of us from Nocturnal Parade had never returned once they ventured too far in.

I knew I couldn’t go back to the shed, especially not now, out of fear of running into Yunho. And as if the Universe was laughing at me today, the way my wolf started purring before the scent even hit my nose should’ve been a clear sign to turn around and go the other way towards the campus, on the backroads where not many liked walking. It was a good spot for the Fae to hide away and drink in nature’s powers, so most of us kept clear of it to offer them privacy. I knew they wouldn’t mind if I stumbled upon them, and I’d rather face their wrath than run into Yunho right now. As I rounded the corner, I stopped walking just in time to avoid crashing into Yunho’s larger body. He gasped and pressed a hand against his chest, gulping almost too loudly. I didn’t look at him as I averted my eyes, nor said anything despite my wolf trying to nudge me towards Yunho. I just tried to step around him and hurry towards the entrance. However, something very unexpected happened. Yunho’s low voice sounded unsure, almost, a little breathy as well.

“Are you headed for a run right now?” My body froze upon hearing Yunho’s question, and I tried to fight every particle of my body from stepping closer to him when his sandalwood scent called out to me. It was deeper, more earthy than ever before, and my wolf was purring so loudly it echoed in my ears as if it were real.

“Yes.” My answer was short, but before I could leave, Yunho followed up with another question.

“May I join you?” He sounded more confident this time, I could feel his eyes on me as my eyebrows furrowed.

What? I gulped, trying to keep my heartbeat even as his question echoed in my mind. Why now? Why did he want to join me on my run all of a sudden? Why was he even talking to me? Why was he acknowledging me? Without even realising it, I had started fiddling with the wolf charm of my bracelet, finding courage as I raised my head and looked into his chocolate brown eyes.

“No.” Yunho’s face became blank as he gulped again, his left eye slightly twitching, “I don’t like going on runs with others.”

Yunho was silent for another second as I raised my eyebrow at him, challengingly. What did he want? His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he huffed, a cynical smile crossing his features, “I see.”

I hummed, fingers tightening around the charm as I was displeased with his reaction, but I didn’t say anything as I nodded once, stepping around him this time to resume my walk. But, once again, Yunho spoke up before I could leave.

“Have you done the assignment? For our Literature class.” Just what was he on? My eyebrows furrowed again as I looked at him confused, Yunho slightly turned his body to face mine since I was standing next to him.

“Yes, we were supposed to hand it in before the Spring Break.” I knew my tone was sharp as I deadpanned, but I couldn’t help myself. Yunho had never spoken to me like this before, let alone asked about a run or an assignment. If he stumbled into me on accident, he wouldn’t even apologise, so this whole interaction was bizarre, “Why? Have you not done yours?”

“I have.” Yunho’s eyes narrowed then, slowly trailing down my body until it stopped on my wrist. I shivered and hid my arm behind my back as if I had done something I wasn’t allowed to, my wolf whispered at me that I was wearing something that hadn’t always belonged to me, “Are you—did Mingi give you something of his?”

Once again, what? I huffed, closing my eyes for a second as I could feel irritation seep through my body. It wasn’t just my scent souring, Yunho’s sandalwood got replaced by the vanilla, which didn’t smell as sweet as usual, “No, why would he?”

But Yunho didn’t answer as his jaw tightened, his eyes switching between mine before they fell back down to my wrist as if he were trying to see through the sleeve of my jacket. His long hair was tousled, almost as if he had been running his fingers through it too often, and his cheeks were covered in a coral blush and littered with fake freckles. His nails were painted yellow this time and they matched the neon yellow of his bomber jacket, which seemed to hide a purple mesh shirt underneath. A blue tie hung loosely around his neck, and his jeans had daisies stamped on his thighs. He looked amazing, even if peculiar, he made my wolf purr in a dreamy way that had me move slightly towards him, hoping that he hadn’t noticed since he was still busy staring at my wrist, which I was still hiding behind my back.

“Are you lying to me right now?” Yunho’s tone had turned a tad bit aggressive, and suddenly, I found him all up in my face, closing the distance between us with an alarming speed. My heart skipped a beat and my wolf leered at Yunho’s actions, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, distracting me for a second from Yunho’s sudden, and unwarranted, fury.

“What is your problem, Yunho?” Despite craving to touch him and nuzzle into the crook of his neck, I pushed through the sudden lustful haze and made my anger apparent. That seemed to catch Yunho off guard as his expression fell a bit, his eyebrows furrowing as he gulped, opening his mouth before he closed it again, seemingly not knowing how to answer my question. I scoffed, gave him a fierce glare, and ignored my wolf’s whimpers when I stepped back. Then I turned around to storm towards the exit. Where was all that audacity coming from?!

            It was a warm spring day, the sun had finally melted the last remnants of frostbite and dew, yet most students were cooped up in the Study Hall or Library, busy catching up with the projects and assignments they had procrastinated on so far. Perhaps going to the Library would’ve been a smarter choice since the cacophony of the grand room distracted me more than once from my coursework. Midterms were right around the corner and everyone was squeezing in study time even on the weekends, determined to memorise as much material as possible. Thankfully, I wasn’t behind in any of my classes but I still had to finish my Alchemy assignment, which was proving to be a headache. San was busy reading through his Anatomy notes and scribbling down even more information in his notebook as four different books were opened and strewn around him on the table. The sight made me chuckle, but I didn’t bother San as I knew he’d get anxious if he wasn’t able to finish checking all the materials he had proposed for himself to go over that day. He was quite literally a prodigy, yet he strived for even more perfection. I knew his whole future depended on his grades, but San was too smart for his own good…academically, at least.

As I jotted down another sentence about my failed experiment just from last night, Yeri’s chewing gum snapped loudly, making San flinch. He was so focused he didn’t even look up, but his eyebrows slightly furrowed. I peeked at Yeri from above my laptop and raised an eyebrow at her when I realised, she had been staring at me already. She sighed as she placed her chin in her palm, grimacing as the chewing gum had stuck to the corner of her lips. I chuckled as she quickly got rid of it, and cleared her throat.

“Do you think you’ll pass your Alchemy class this semester?” Yeri’s tone was deadpan, and it almost made me laugh. Maybe I should’ve gone to the Library where we weren’t allowed to speak much to each other, maybe then Yeri would’ve spared me from her brutally honest questions.

“I sure hope so,” I muttered as I searched for the right formula on the internet, which was much faster than flipping through old pages of books, trying to find the answer for my magick elixir.

“Will you have to retake your class if you fail?” Yeri pressed, genuinely interested all of a sudden.

“No, it would be the first time I failed this class, I’d just retake the final exam,” I explained as San hummed next to me, highlighting something with green in the book he had borrowed from the Library. I was sure he’d get a good scrutinising from the librarian for that.

“How many passes do I get before they fail me? Like the exams and shit.”

“Which class are you failing, Yeri?” San spoke up with an amused tone as he sneaked a glance at her. I chuckled as I found the formula, then copied it into my notebook before putting it into my slideshow.

“Don’t tell my brothers,” Yeri lowered her voice as she leaned over the table to be closer to San and me, “But I might be failing Literature this year.”

“Literature of all subjects?” San started laughing, prompting me to giggle as well. It was one of our easiest classes, trust Yeri to fail it. It seemed like the Songs were easily tricked by the easiest of tasks, Wooyoung was another prime example of that. He failed his Sports class last year, which should’ve physically been impossible for a werewolf…even all of the vampires had passed it.

“Stop making fun of me,” Yeri pouted as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, “Not everyone likes to read—I certainly don’t.”

“Well, you should from now on, or you’ll have to retake the whole class next year.” Yeri’s eyes widened at my inoffensive threat.

“Whatever,” She grumbled under her breath as her ears perked up, eyes looking around the room. San’s body seemed to tense too for a second before he relaxed, his ears tinged slightly red, “Don’t wait for me to come back to our room tonight.”

“Where are you going?” I felt like an older sister worrying about their younger sibling as my eyebrows furrowed. Yeri just rolled her eyes with a loud huff, eyes fixed on something behind me as she started smiling.

“I’m sleeping in Seungwannie’s room tonight.” I could hear footsteps approaching us rapidly.

“What about her roommate?” I asked as a familiar citrusy scent caught my attention, I didn’t have to turn around to know who was coming.

“She’ll be fine, we like her.” I chuckled as Yeri winked, and then her eyes settled on San, or rather who stood now next to him. Before any of us could react, Wooyoung leaned down and pressed a fat kiss against San’s cheek, unleashing a heavy thundering of heartbeats. I ignored San’s heartbeats as I smiled at Wooyoung, who looked embarrassed by his actions, but he was grinning sheepishly as he lowered his head.

“Hi!” He greeted us as San finally snapped out of his frozen state, giving Wooyoung a genuinely wide smile.

“Hello, Woo,” I said as the younger pulled out a chair and sat in it, dismissing Yeri when she stuck her tongue out at her brother. Wooyoung rested his chin in his palm, head tilted as he looked at San.

“Are you still studying?” Wooyoung’s tone was impatient as San’s sigh was exasperated. I chuckled under my breath and went back to my slide show, looking over it for the nth time, “I’m so bored, San, you promised to come back to my room with me and entertain me.”

“Oh, did you now, San?” Yeri grinned mischievously as she giggled, making Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he shot her an alarmed look. I watched the exchange wordlessly as San’s ears flushed a darker shade while he tried to make his body look even smaller as his wide shoulders hunched forward, “Does that form of entertainment involve—”

“Song Yeri.” Mingi’s tone was authoritative as Yeri’s eyes widened, lips pressing into a straight line. How have I missed them approaching? Yunho was directly looking at me, his soft and chocolate brown eyes drilling into my forehead as I quickly looked away, once again busy with my PowerPoint presentation, “Leave your brother and San alone, must you always be such a menace?”

“If they are idiots…” Yeri grumbled under her breath, and I watched curiously as both San and Wooyoung looked away, blushing and their hearts skipping a beat. I suppose it won’t take them much longer to finally come to terms that they like each other, Wooyoung’s been rather reactive lately around San, it was certainly fun to watch. What wasn’t fun at all, however, was Yunho’s unrelenting stare and his scrunched nose as he sniffed at the air.

“Hello, Y/N.” I didn’t expect the vampire girl to speak to me, she even had a smile on her face as my round eyes fell on her. It was a small smile, but it was there. I watched the people around us turn around surprised as they looked between me and the Petrova girl. I smiled and waved at her, the small wolf charm swishing around on my wrist. I didn’t miss Yunho’s eyes instantly falling onto it, nor the vampire girl’s satisfied smirk when Yeri scowled at her, “Are these rascals bothering you?”

“Oh, not at all.” I chuckled, looking at San and Wooyoung as Yeri scoffed, but everyone just ignored her.

“Well, if you ever get bored of them, you can always join me and my friends.” The vampire girl’s eyes fell pointedly on Yeri and Wooyoung as Mingi’s grip tightened on her waist, “I know some creatures forget they cohabit a place with others whom they are constantly bothering and irritating.”

“Oh, shove something up your—”

“Alright!” Mingi chuckled, jumping in to de-escalate the situation, as always, “Before this turns into another argument, my lovely girlfriend and I will be on our way.”

The Petrova girl winked at Yeri as she kissed Mingi’s cheek, and then the two turned and were off to a table where three creatures sat, all smiling at them except for one. She had long black hair, bangs that fell into her eyes, and a fierce glare as she stared at Yunho, then at me once she realised, I was looking at her.

“Won’t you sit?” Wooyoung gestured towards the empty seat next to Yeri, and that seemed to snap Yunho out of whatever train of thought he seemed to be lost in. I chanced a glance at him before I went back to check for typos in my presentation, trying to ignore Yunho’s vanilla scent spiking all of a sudden, so sweet it almost made me gasp. The last time it had been that sweet was when I caught him and that girl at the bonfire enjoying each other. I gulped and willed my wolf to remain silent as suddenly it took me everything to remain seated and not throw myself at Yunho, God, I so desperately wished to touch him and inhale him whole, but once again I had to remind myself that I had made a choice. No more Yunho, no more yearning, it was over. I deserved better, I could do better than this.

“No, see you around.” Yunho’s voice was strained as he quickly walked off, sitting alone at a large and almost empty table.

“That was strange,” Wooyoung mumbled as Yeri hummed, turning around to stare at her brother with a frown.

“He’s been acting strange ever since Y/N came to town,” I froze as Yeri faced me again, lips pursed, “Not that I’m blaming you for my brother’s behaviour, I just don’t understand what’s up with him. His scent gets stronger around you and he’s always moodier and snappier after he sees you, did you do something to him?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes too as I closed my laptop, “Right, as if your brother had given me the chance to do something to him.”

Before anyone could question me, I stood and stormed towards the large bookcases lined closely to the exit, my muscles tense. Now that I had decided that I wanted nothing more to do with Yunho, my wolf had turned even more stubborn than it had been. I wanted to consume him, I wanted him to touch me and feel me up, it felt like I couldn’t think or breathe in his presence. And when he wasn’t around, my wolf whined and cried, begging me to find him and make him want us. But my will was stronger and I was determined to stay away even if it became harder and harder daily to go against my wolf. I wondered if Yunho felt the same way, if the thoughts of me were eating him up alive, if he was desperate to have me, if his wolf whined at him just like mine did. I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to ground myself into the present and push away all thoughts of the mate who didn’t want me back. I would’ve been struggling more half a year ago, but now it was second nature yearning after Yunho one second, then blocking him out the next one.

I still needed one more book for my presentation, the one that I could document myself from more in-depth as to why my experiment had failed…and I also shouldn’t forget to cut the sound for the recording since Yeri is giggling and making fun of me in the background for almost ruining my desk. My fingers traced the sturdy shelf of the bookcase as I craned my neck back, reading the titles of the books, wondering whether I was in the right section. I was tall, but these bookcases were over two meters, so I might need a ladder if I find my book and it’s way too high up on the shelf. As I scanned the next aisle, I grinned in triumph when I read the title of the book I was searching for, Do’s and Don’ts in Elixir Making, Alchemy, Level: kindergarten, by A. Turner. I chuckled under my breath at the blatant jab before I pushed myself up on my tiptoes, reaching forward and finding stability in the bookshelf when a sudden invasive warmth burned my nape, the scent of sandalwood forcing my eyes shut as I took a deep breath, my wolf purring when the sweet vanilla seemed to linger in my throat and oesophagus even after exhaling.

“Is this the one you were looking for?” Yunho’s voice was low, too close to my ear, and I couldn’t stop my heart from jolting in both fright and excitement. I whirled around, which was a mistake. There was barely any distance between our bodies as Yunho held the book in his big hand, long fingers curling around its old spine, his eyes soft, but his expression hardened. I gulped since my mouth felt dry, but the words didn’t come to me as Yunho and I stood staring at each other. His grip tightened around the book and I finally looked at it, nodding hesitantly. He hummed and handed it over, our fingers brushing in the process and making my body lurch forward. Yunho’s eyes widened, and I wondered if he had felt it too. The electricity, the low humming, the sudden tremble of my body at the fleeting touch, the depravation and desperation that was suddenly flowing through my veins, so close to claiming him as mine.

“Yes.” My voice was steady despite my hammering heart, and the sweat that coated my brows. I cradled the book against my chest as if I was trying to protect myself from Yunho, protect my heart and mind too. But Yunho didn’t look like he was about to move away, and I was too scared of making any moves, knowing that my legs would carry me straight in his arms, shamelessly at that. I couldn’t let that happen, it would’ve been humiliating. Yunho’s lips parted as his eyebrows furrowed, long strands falling into his eyes, and he swiftly ran a hand through his hair as my eyes followed the motion. I gulped, wishing to do the same, but then Yunho exhaled and I felt my body lean towards him again, vanilla so sweet my mind was clouded with want.

“Mingi’s girlfriend told me she had given you the sparse bracelet she and Dahyun had made.” I hadn’t expected that, so I was curious where Yunho was going with this, “She reeks of Mingi, so it’s no surprise your bracelet also reeks of Mingi.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I raised my hand, staring at it incredulously. Does it? I hadn’t even noticed, how come? After all, Mingi’s scent had never been as invasive and constant as Yunho’s. Bringing my wrist closer to my nose, I sniffed at it for a second, eyebrows furrowing when I noticed the faint hint of the earthy and cinnamon scent that was Mingi. It was barely even there, I wondered why Yunho was so sensitive towards it.

“Oh, well, I can faintly smell it now that you’ve pointed it out,” I muttered with a shrug as I lowered my arm, looking at Yunho with a questioning gaze. He bit his bottom lip and my eyes stayed there, wondering what the pink plush flesh would feel like underneath my teeth, whether Yunho would whine or growl if I were to sink my fangs into it and nip at the sensitive lip. But before my face could flush at the vivid image created in my mind, Yunho cleared his throat and took a small step towards me, making me press myself up against the bookcase. My body felt alive, my heart was racing, and my ears were ringing. I felt like I could do anything with Yunho around, as if I was untouchable.

“Listen,” Yunho seemed to hesitate for a second before his eyes glazed over with conviction, his scent so overbearing that for a second it was all I could focus on, and his racing heart, “I had never meant to assume things about you, nor insinuate anything, but I realise my words had come off wrong more than once. I was harsh when I didn’t mean to be, and I know you think I’m a dick. Frankly, you have all the right to think that about me, I hadn’t been the nicest to you until now.”

I wanted to ask why now, what had changed that he was finally acknowledging me, what was spurring him on to even talk to me like this, because it sounded like he was about to apologise and I hated how my heart was beating harder, making my wolf was howl in happiness, ready to accept Yunho’s apology even if he didn’t say the words. I remained silent as Yunho licked his pouty lips, and my eyes seemed to remain on them even as he continued to speak, “Do you—do you believe in soulmates?”

I couldn’t help but give Yunho an amused look, quirking an eyebrow, “We’re literally werewolves who imprint on each other and have lifelong mates, do you believe in soulmates?”

Yunho froze, a little taken aback that I had answered his question with a question, “What about mates? Do you believe in mates, then?”

It seemed like neither one of us wanted to answer questions right now, but I sighed as I gave Yunho a resigned look, “I do, I believe in mates.”

“Since when?” Yunho’s tone was turning slightly desperate as he kept pressing on, and I cleared my throat, averting my eyes for a bit.

“Since I was little, but I suppose I started firmly believing that mates do exist after I came here.” Maybe if I didn’t say it too directly, he’d still understand what I was trying to hint at.

“Yeah?” Yunho’s tone was faint, his face suddenly softening as he exhaled quietly.

“What about you? I don’t think I’ve seen you settle with anyone for a longer period since I came here.” Yunho’s jaw clenched as I looked back into his eyes, tilting my head as my eyes narrowed at him.

“The concept of mates was silly to me…” Yunho’s tone was hard as he took a step back, making my wolf whine in protest, but I remained silent and ignored the sudden coldness that plunged through my body, “Until you came to Nocturnal Parade.”

My whole body went cold upon hearing his words, and my eyes widened as Yunho’s admission echoed in my ears. Did that mean he knew we were mates? Could that mean that Yunho was aware that we were fated, but he was ignoring it on purpose? That was utterly more painful than being in a one-sided mated situation, because it meant he was purposefully rejecting me. My eyebrows furrowed as Yunho’s expression was blank once again, his eyes hardening the longer I stared at him in silence.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe, so many questions whirling in my head, making me question every little interaction that we’ve had in the past year, even more so the recent ones. Why would he ignore me? Was I not good enough? Was I not pretty to him? Was I not appealing to his wolf? Why did Yunho hate me so much that he ignored the fact that we were mates for a whole year, making it so hard for me to be in his vicinity? I blinked, suddenly aware that I had tears in my eyes, even my wolf was whining at the realisation. Yunho didn’t say anything as he watched my shocked expression morph into something of sadness mixed with anger, and then I squared my shoulders and glared at him. I didn’t say anything as I pressed the book against his chest to push him back, trying to keep it together in front of him despite wanting to scream at him, demand answers, and throw all the books from the shelves at him. Yunho looked taken off guard as I pushed him back by his chest, his gasp loud as I ripped the book away from his chest and stormed back to the table I shared with San and the Song siblings, my blood fuming and my thoughts running a mile per hour. Yunho was horrible and he didn’t deserve me, even if we were mates. As I loudly and aggressively sat back down in my chair, heads turned to look at me curiously, but nobody bothered me when San shook his head once he noticed Wooyoung open his mouth to drill me with questions.

There was one insistent pair of eyes, however, that didn’t look away even after I had given them a death glare, and it was the creature who was sitting with Mingi and the Petrova girl. Her eyes tracked Yunho as he hurriedly gathered his things from the table and left the hall, a scowl settling on her face before she was watching me again. I opened my book and opted to ignore her, I didn’t have time for all this drama, I had to finish an assignment and study for the midterms as well.

            The next day wasn’t much different, except that there were barely any empty seats to find in both the Library and the Study Hall. After San and I had squeezed ourselves in between a Fae and a Druid, we spent four hours in the Library, our backs aching by the time we headed for lunch. My brain felt numb and my eyes ached from dehydration, and if I thought San would stop his revision while we enjoyed our meal, I was wrong. He was reciting a whole paragraph as he mumbled to himself over a mouthful of vegetable soup, scooping up the baby carrots into his spoon and placing them in my bowl absentmindedly. I smiled at his antics and found myself feeling fond of San and our friendship. Even though I have been here for a year and three months now, I got to experience so many new things and emotions. It was as if I was born for the first time, eager to experience our world through new lenses. If I thought back to my whole life spent in the big city, I couldn’t help but feel sad over how much I had missed out on. The community, however, in Nocturnal Parade had a way of filling in the gaps, and the absence of fond and good memories in a way that tricked my brain into believing that I was always part of this town, of this community, of this pack. It was exhilarating, and for the first time in months, I found myself craving partnership.

So, when San finally started complaining about physically being unable to revise and learn anymore, his muscles crying out for a good stretch, I proposed we go on a run together. It took San only a few seconds to realise what I saying, and then he sprung up from his seat with newfound energy, packing all of his belongings in mere minutes. I giggled as I followed suit, my backpack almost falling from my hands when San grabbed my biceps and hurled me after himself with little care that I was struggling to keep my feet from tangling together as we basically ran out of the Library. I ended up giggling as San faced me with sparkling eyes, his mouth wide but curling into a dimpled smile.

“I’ve been waiting for this day since forever!” San exclaimed as we hurried down the hallway for no reason, but San’s excitement was so palpable that I could almost touch it. It would be the second time I’d join San on his run, so I understood why this felt like a life-changing event to him. I chuckled and linked our arms together to try and slow San down, calm him down a little bit, “Which deity must I thank that you chose me as your companion for a run?”

I rolled my eyes and turned my head to watch San as I released his arm to let him hop down the stairs, “It’s warm outside and I can’t study anymore, I feel tired. I thought you also needed a second away from it all.”

“I sure do,” San muttered under his breath as he waited at the foot of the stairs for me to reach him, “All this studying just for me to not know which major I actually want, we’re four months away from graduating from the Academy, Y/N.”

I hummed and linked our arms together again as I veered us towards the backroads leading to campus, “I know, but you’ve got this San. Whether you choose Medical Engineering or Medicine and Pharmacy, you’ll do well, I just know it.”

“I want to do so much, but I feel like we have so little time,” San mumbled, his lips downturned as we left the building.

“We might not be vampires, but we certainly have more than enough time to live a lifetime full of completing our wishes and wants, don’t you think?” I tried to cheer my best friend up as I nudged his shoulder, but San just sighed long and stopped walking. His scent suddenly soured, and I frowned as he shuffled on his feet, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“I’m just…” He sighed and I hummed, spurring him on to continue, “What if Wooyoung doesn’t like me the way I like him?”

That was a tough question, I would hate myself if I answered it the wrong way and only saddened San more. I gulped and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him lightly, “San, do you not see the way Wooyoung just gravitates towards you? His eyes glimmer when he looks at you, he’s always smiling and laughing in your presence, and he’s always whiney when you don’t pay attention to him. He searches for you in every room, and he’s always talking about you, somehow roping you up into a conversation that has nothing to do with you. I know baring our feelings is scary, but what if…what if Wooyoung likes you the way you like him, and you’re just both wasting time? And if he somehow isn’t into you, it’s Wooyoung, you know nothing will change. He’ll treat you the same way, San. You might be heartbroken but life goes on, and you’ll find someone who is…not Wooyoung.”

“Wow,” San chuckled, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing, “You really were doing so well until you brought up Wooyoung not being into me.”

“I’m sorry!” I exclaimed, feeling bad only for a second as San started laughing. I huffed as he threw an arm over my shoulders and pulled me into his side, a light flush settling over his cheeks. He was still smiling and his scent had evened out, so I knew he wasn’t upset anymore. Maybe my speech was good, after all, even if I ruined it by insinuating Wooyoung might not be into San.

“You’re right, Y/N,” San and I started walking again, “I won’t waste any more time. I’ll tell him before the next full moon.”

My eyes widened as I looked at San’s side profile, “That’s in five days.”

“I know.” San and I shared a look before I hummed, grabbing him around the hips to give him a reassuring squeeze. He smiled in contentment as we wobbled our way through the grass-covered path, thankful that we didn’t come across any Fae that was drinking up the warm sun rays as they lay in the grass.

And, well, that’s how I ended up on a run not just with San, but Wooyoung also. It didn’t bother me, it turned out that Wooyoung was a lot more coordinated and serious when in wolf form than he was in his human shape. His wolf wasn’t too large, but it had great stamina as it ran ahead of San and me, its fur a mixture of black and white, reminding me of his brothers, who both had beautiful fur and majestic builds. At first glance, it seemed as if Wooyoung was aimlessly leading us around the forest, but I was proven wrong when we arrived at a small waterfall, of which I had no idea it even existed. My wolf purred as it shook its fur, looking around with sharp eyes, making me chuckle inside my head when I noticed San headed towards Wooyoung, rubbing their muzzles together. My wolf howled, making me feel embarrassed when both San and Wooyoung looked my way, the amused glint in Wooyoung’s wolf eyes unmistakable even like this. When I was in my wolf form, it was hard to control its reactions, so I was forced to wallow in the embarrassment of the jealousy my wolf felt over what San and Wooyoung had. Even to my wolf, it was obvious that the two’s bond ran deep, that there was something they wouldn’t be able to deny for much longer.

As if San’s wolf had sensed my shift in mood, he approached with strong footsteps, rising a little taller than my own wolf. He was nowhere near as large as Yunho or Mingi, but the wolf was still big and menacing looking. The darkness of its eyes was intimidating to anyone who didn’t know it was San. The sourness of my scent, however, disappeared the second San affectionately brushed its body against mine, huffing under his breath as our heads bumped together in an acknowledging way. It was sweet, it tempered my wolf’s antics if only for a second as we heard the bushes rustling, the steps sounding closer and closer. My skin twitched as I bared my fangs for any unwelcome predator, but even my wolf was shocked to see a black and white wolf emerge from behind a large boulder. It was hard to think straight when your wolf was in control of your body and mind, and I had to pull every part of my mind together to stop my wolf from pouncing on Yunho the second they made eye contact. Something deep rumbled out of the black wolf’s throat as Wooyoung skipped over gleefully, its mouth opened as it made a funny sound.

Mingi imitated the sound as they bopped their noses together, a rumble leaving San’s throat as he stood next to me, protectively, as he watched Yunho’s wolf. A very quiet whine managed to somehow slip past my clenched jaw still when Yunho and Wooyoung acknowledged each other, and the second I realised my wolf would actually throw itself at Yunho, I somehow gathered enough mental strength to force myself to jump away from the group, a loud howl leaving my throat. I knew everyone was watching me, but I was panting and my wolf was purring, I knew I had to leave before I created an even bigger scene. So, when I took off, hopeful that the others would let me be, my wolf almost leered at me when Yunho’s vanilla scent permeated every part of my being, its burning gaze on my body making me choke up as I could see the big, black, wolf chase after me. Everyone else wasn’t far behind, but Yunho seemed to run faster than any of them, forcing me to push myself as my paws hit the forest ground harshly, my lungs heaving for air as we waved through the trees, racing through the forest.

Yunho’s loud puffs of air would’ve covered my skin in goosebumps, a constant reminder of just how close he was to me, to catching me. Because it felt like a chase, as if I was running away from a dangerous predator, and would end up dead, my windpipe crushed between its malicious fangs. My heart raced in my chest and my lungs burned from the lack of air, but my wolf wasn’t tired yet. In fact, it was elated that Yunho was relentlessly chasing, loud huffs and growls leaving its mouth anytime he thought he had finally caught up to us, only to realise my wolf was just tricking him and would speed up once again. My wolf was thrilled as it howled loudly, it would’ve sounded like laughter if I was in my human form, and then it took a sharp left cut as we jumped over numerous fallen logs. My skin was on fire as adrenaline coursed through my body at an alarming state, and I couldn’t remember a time when I had been so in touch with my wolf and the nature that surrounded us. I couldn’t lie, I was excited as well as I listened closely to Yunho’s heavy breaths, still hot on our trail even though he couldn’t quite catch up with us.

I couldn’t tell whether the others were still after us because Yunho’s scent was so intense that it was the only thing my wolf could smell and focus on, but I hoped the others would forgive me for my sudden departure once I had apologised to them. I just hoped San wouldn’t worry about me, but then again, it’s not like I couldn’t take care of myself, and right now it didn’t feel like I was in danger despite Yunho breathing down our neck. Before I could question where my wolf was taking us, the trees became less dense and the soil a little muddier, and I realised we were headed towards the shed. I suppose my muscles had eased up enough for me to end my run, but I wouldn’t want to come to the shed since this isn’t where I had left my clothes, I felt confusion spike through my senses, but my wolf was quick to completely push it down. My bones started aching as I gasped loudly for air, the shed now in eyesight as I realised my wolf was forcing me to shift. I didn’t want to be naked out in the wild, but I couldn’t stop the transformation if my wolf forced it upon me. I groaned when my bones snapped into place, the burgundy fur slowly disappearing as I was forced up onto my legs, my claws slowly retracting into normal nails as my jaw snapped into place, a little sore from the sudden action.

I could feel my hair brush just above my shoulders and I gasped as I tumbled forward into the shed’s door, my feet aching and numb from having pushed myself too hard in the chase. My body felt on fire as my heart raced loudly in my chest, the adrenaline making me more alert than normal as I hurried inside the shed, trying to shift back so that I wouldn’t have to walk to campus naked, but my wolf was opposed to the idea. Before I could wonder why, all my questions were answered. The shed’s door slammed shut loudly behind me and I jumped, whirling around in panic as Yunho’s tall form stood looming in the doorway. There was something different about him right now, about the air between us. It was tense, I felt like I couldn’t breathe in the dim lighting of the shed, and I gulped as I took in Yunho’s appearance. His long brown hair was all over the place, falling into his dark eyes, which lacked their warmth. They were narrowed into slits as he was panting through his mouth, his cheeks tinged a deep red, the flush continuing down to his chest. His fangs hadn’t retracted yet, though, and they were poking past his pink bottom lip. Yunho’s nose was scrunched up as he leered at me, and I gulped nervously, all of a sudden too aware of my nakedness as I tried to shield my exposed private parts with my hand and arm.

Something prompted Yunho to suddenly push forward, consequently making me backtrack until I collided with the old wooden table, making my heart race even faster as Yunho slowly stalked towards me, his eyes an intense orchid colour. I felt shy all of a sudden as if we hadn’t already seen each other naked, but my wolf purred at me and forced my hands away from my body as I felt frozen in place, big eyes looking up at Yunho once he stood too close, too easy to reach. His heart was pounding just as hard as mine as his chest fell and rose rapidly, and my eyes fluttered shut when his vanilla scent made my head swim. It felt as if I was underwater, trying to grip onto my last string of sanity as Yunho growled, hot fingers digging into my hip. My eyes flew open, widening as I looked down at Yunho’s hand holding me, leaving crescent moons as his chapped yellow nails dug into my warm skin. He stepped even closer, caging me in, and making me look up at him as I felt hazy. My wolf was whispering at me to spread my legs just a little further and let him nestle in between them. I wanted Yunho like nothing else before.

“Y/N.” Yunho’s voice was the lowest I have ever heard it be. His eyes seemed to be unfocused as he grabbed me with both hands now, slowly tracing my sides as if he were memorising my body. I had to bite my bottom lip to stop any sounds from escaping, and in a moment of weakness, I allowed my wolf to do to its liking as I raised my right hand, fingers almost hesitantly touching Yunho’s left peck. He shivered as his jaw tightened, stepping even closer until our bodies were touching. It was too much to feel all of him against my skin, his body burning mine up in a way I thought wasn’t possible. My breath stuttered in my throat when Yunho’s fingers ghosted over my breasts, mine travelling lower on his torso until they were massaging circles right above his happy trail, making him growl, “I can’t do it anymore.”

It was hard to speak, but I needed to understand what he meant. I swallowed around nothing, letting my head fall back as Yunho’s pupils dilated upon seeing my exposed neck, “What—what do you mean?”

Without realising, my hands were tracing his lower back, slipping lower and lower until they hovered right above his ass cheeks, hesitant to touch until Yunho roughly grabbed my left breast, rutting against my thigh. I keened, pressing him closer as my fingers dug into his naked flesh, my skin practically singing as he tilted my head even further back with his free hand, his index finger pressing against my bottom lip insistently. I couldn’t breathe as the wooden edge of the table dug into my back, but I didn’t care as my body experienced things it never had before. It was exhilarating, but also scary that I had given in so quickly. I knew it was mostly my wolf doing this, but I couldn’t find my grip. I actually didn’t want to, so I let my wolf take the lead for once when it came to Yunho. It’s what we’ve wanted for a year, after all, to feel him all over us, close to us, in us.

“You’re so alluring,” Yunho whispered as his head lowered, his hot lips pressing against my cheek as I flushed a darker red, “Maddening to the point I can’t sleep at night, Y/N. I want to devour you whole, take you as you are. I need you.”

I whimpered as Yunho and I made eye contact, his hand which was holding my breast now sneaking to my lower back as he made me arch into him, my lower stomach coiling at how easy it would be to just let him take whatever he needed. And I wanted it too, my wolf was desperate for it, so I leaned up until our lips were brushing together, my own orchid eyes reflected in his.

“Why now?” I whispered, watching as Yunho gulped, lips parting as if he was trying to inhale my very breath, “Why do you want me now?”

I gasped when Yunho suddenly hoisted me up, my legs crushing his hips as I latched onto him, my eyes shaking slightly as he nipped at my jawline, his fangs dangerous but not there to harm, “It’s not just now, I always want you. Even when I’m sleeping, you’re in my every dream.”

My eyes fluttered close as Yunho kissed behind my ear, making me sigh in pleasure as he trailed more kisses on my neck until he was dangerously close to my scent gland, “But you’ve always ignored me, I thought you didn’t like me.”

Yunho growled as he nipped at my skin, making me lick my lips as we came eye to eye once again. I wanted to kiss him breathless, but he was talking before I could do so, “I don’t like you, I’m obsessed with you. I want you to be mine, forever. I had known you belonged to me the second I first saw you.”

My wolf purred and I moaned as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against my neck, up to my jawline until our cheeks were pressed together, and he was nuzzling his nose into it, his sandalwood scent rubbing deeply into my skin. Our noses bumped together and my wolf was leering, so happy that we were in Yunho’s arms, so lenient to let him mark us, mate us. And just like that, my heartbeat stuttered and my eyebrows furrowed, somehow my mind clearing through the lustful fog that was clouding it, “Since the second you first saw me?”

“Yes,” Yunho muttered lowly, kissing my cheek before he looked into my eyes, “I had smelled you before I had even seen you, I thought I was going crazy, turns out I wasn’t. I had just found my mate.”

Before my wolf could let me gloss over this new piece of information, I pressed, “So you knew all this time that we were mates? That I was fated to be with you?”

“Yes, Y/N, I knew.” The grin on Yunho’s face was anything but pleasant as my heart dropped all the way to my stomach. He knew all this time and he left me in the dark to suffer alone, cry myself to sleep thinking I wasn’t good enough, that even my own mate didn’t want anything to do with me. I had thought all this time that I was too weird, too much, too shy to be fated with someone like Yunho, I had thought it was a cruel joke made by the Universe to laugh at me, I couldn’t have a peaceful and perfect life even if we left the city. I had been suffering for the past year and all this time Yunho knew, and yet, he did it on purpose. He didn’t care for me, he didn’t think for a second what this did to my mental health and image of myself. He was my mate, yet instead of protecting me, making me happy, and keeping me safe, he pushed me towards my darkest times where I felt like I wasn’t even real, that I didn’t matter to anyone, that I’d never be enough.

“Put me down.” My tone was just as shaky as my whole mental state right now, crumbling faster than my wolf could grasp the situation and try to silence me again. Yunho’s eyes widened slightly, then his eyebrows furrowed, and instead of doing what I asked, he only held me tighter, “Yunho, put me down right now.”

“Y/N, I don’t—listen, we can discuss this. I messed up, if you listen to the whole—”

“If you don’t put me down right now, Yunho, you’ll never see me again.” My wolf was whining as Yunho’s expression crumbled into hurt and panic, his chest falling and rising rapidly as I could hear his heart race for different reasons now. But I wouldn’t let this go his way, I couldn’t just gloss over this and act as if I hadn’t been miserable since the moment I met him. It hurt too much, even my wolf was finally realising what was happening, that he had actively refused his mate for whatever reason I wasn’t curious to know. And even though I could see it in Yunho’s eyes, the need to go against my demand and keep me here, very slowly, he started to move, letting one leg down at a time. My feet were cold as they touched the shed’s flooring, and I gulped as Yunho still hounded me into the table. I tried to keep the tears out of my eyes as I gulped, taking a shaky breath. Then, I pushed him back since he wasn’t moving away, and closed my eyes as I felt my bones shift around without me having to force my wolf to cooperate. So much for running with your pack.

            The tables have somehow turned. It wasn’t me yearning after Yunho anymore, it was him yearning after me now. He was everywhere I went, albeit the Academy’s grounds weren’t as humongous as a town’s grounds, but he was everywhere. I couldn’t enjoy my meals anymore, I couldn’t study in the Library or the Study Hall, I couldn’t sit out in the Flower Fields on a blanket reading, and I couldn’t even go on runs at a reasonable hour because Yunho was always there. It was slightly frightening and disarming, but my wolf was elated. She was practically mewling at all times, baring her neck in Yunho’s direction anytime she could. Good thing my will was stronger than hers. It was peculiar to see how good I was at actually dismissing Yunho’s whole existence, giving him a taste of his own medicine. I didn’t find joy in ignoring him, but I was mad and hurt. I wouldn’t allow him to just crawl back into my life as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t known all this time that we were mates. Only a week had passed since our encounter on the run and the whole thing that went down in the shed, and I was positive Yunho was close to losing his mind.

I had felt like that for a good two months, but I took it a lot better than he was right now. He looked like he hadn’t slept for two days at least, with dark bags under his eyes and his hair all wavy and in a man-bun since it looked unwashed. His nails lacked their usual vibrant colour and his outfits seemed less crazy, as if he wasn’t putting much thought into them anymore, just wearing whatever was at hand. Yesterday, he had even worn one of Mingi’s black hoodies, a colour unseen on Yunho previously. It was jarring, I couldn’t lie, but I wasn’t going to give in to him just because he was moping about me keeping my distance from him. It wasn’t even that deep, I hadn’t even rejected him like he had done with me, I just needed time to sort out my feelings and thoughts, but I suppose Yunho didn’t know that and assumed things were over between us. As if there had been anything, to begin with. Yeri, who had no issues rooming with me but didn’t usually hang out much with me otherwise, was now suspiciously all up in my business every damn day, resulting in Yunho tagging along. I knew the Song siblings were close, but I hadn’t seen Yunho and Yeri spend more than one hour together at the Academy, so they weren’t slick with it when Yunho followed after Yeri, and subsequently me, all day like a kicked puppy.

But if it wasn’t Yeri, then it was Dahyun, who had never spoken to me more than five words at once, but was now eager to get to know me, complimenting me about my rusty coloured hair and forcing me to do beaded bracelets with her in the Study Hall while Yunho sat a few seats away from us, staring at me without even blinking. Their antics had gotten old and irritating quite quickly, but the last nail had been today during lunch. I sat with San and Wooyoung, who were disgustingly sweet now that they had finally sorted out their relationship. They weren’t dating, but they were certainly something more than friends, and they seemed fine with that, so, who was I to judge them? Our lunch was full of chatter as Wooyoung cackled at every small thing, animatedly retelling a time when San had tried to sneak into his room, only to slip down the roof and fall face-first into the mud. He had broken two teeth and had almost fractured his cheekbone if it wasn’t for our magical werewolf healing. My appetite had even returned as my wolf was finally done acting as if it was the end of the world, however, when Yunho’s oppressing sandalwood scent wafted through the air, it felt like my whole day was ruined.

Mingi and his girlfriend joined our table with quiet greetings as they sat, Yunho hot in tow as his eyes burned into the side of my head. I have had enough, but before I could excuse myself, Wooyoung was already talking to Yunho. The vampire girl gave me an understanding look before she sat back, pushing around the vegetables until Mingi noticed and took them from her. I watched their interactions while paying attention to Wooyoung, who had slightly settled down when San squeezed his thigh. But Yunho was still staring, breathing shallowly, his bottom lip jutting out almost pitifully. I wanted to yell at him that this was his fault and that I was sick of everything, but I kept my composure until I couldn’t anymore. A scoff made us all look up, and I realised it was the same creature from the Library, part of Petrova’s friend group.

“Look at you,” She sneered at Yunho malevolently, her lips curling into a wicked smirk, “You thought you had found another bitch just to get kicked to the curb by her, didn’t you? How pitiful.”

Before I could stop myself, I pushed my chair back and looked at the creature with a glare, “Who are you calling a bitch?”

I hadn’t intended to growl, but my wolf was just as triggered as me, and we really didn’t want to be provoked today. I wasn’t confrontational, but I was beyond stressed by the midterms, and now Yunho’s behaviour too.

Before this whole ordeal could escalate into something else, the Petrova girl scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Really, Seulgi? I thought we agreed you’d finally let it go.”

Seulgi, Yunho’s ex-girlfriend I realised, bared her fangs at the other vampire, “Just because you suck your werewolf boyfriend’s dick, you shouldn’t look down on your kin. Or did you forget who you are and where you come from?”

I hadn’t seen anyone get angry as fast as the Petrova girl, her whole face going red, but before the two vampires could turn this into something physical, Mingi stood and faced Seulgi, “I would appreciate it if you stopped harassing my girlfriend, your own friend, Seulgi. Last time I checked, you and Yunho broke up because you cheated on him. What’s your fucking problem, huh? Do you want me to rip you apart? I would love to sink my fangs into—”

“Mingi.” His girlfriend looked sick as she gripped his hand tightly, shaking her head at him. Mingi took a sharp breath and looked at her with a guilty expression before he faced Seulgi again, who looked to be fuming. I exhaled, then grabbed my backpack and tapped San’s shoulder.

“I’m not hungry anymore, see you later.” Before San could ask where I was going, I was basically running out of the canteen, desperate to get away from everyone. The other students were staring at us curiously, and I hated it. I was tired and irritated, I just wanted to be alone and away from anything that was connected to Yunho. I knew I’d have to face him and have a conversation with him sooner or later, but maybe I’d first make him suffer for his choices for another few months. Maybe until we graduate.

My footsteps echoed down the corridor as I decided to head back to my dorm and take a nap, I still had some time until my Calculus class. However, footsteps followed mine hurriedly, and judging based on the absence of an overbearing scent, I guessed it was a vampire that was trailing me. Maybe it was the Petrova girl, I actually hoped it was her since I didn’t really want to speak to anyone who couldn’t take a hint. She was rather good at reading the room, over the past week we’ve hung out more, and I got to know her a bit better. She was anything like Yeri had made her sound, and I was just glad to have a friend who was a female and my age. I was snapped out of my thoughts when I felt sharp nails digging through my sleeve and into my skin, making my wolf growl as I turned around with a sharp glare. It was Yunho’s ex, the black-haired girl, Seulgi.

“What do you want?” I snapped, my eyebrows furrowing when she didn’t let go of my arm. She looked me up and down with a grimace, scoffing under her breath.

“Are you Yunho’s new bitch?” My jaw tensed and my wolf growled, but Seulgi continued before I could speak, “Have you fucked already? Did he tell you that you are the love of his life only to cheat on you with a fucking dog the next day?”

So, she was associating werewolves with dogs now, huh? I couldn’t have disliked her more than I already did, but I gulped down the nasty names I could’ve called her, and opted to be the adult in this damn conversation, “Even if my answers to your questions were all yes, how is that your concern? Aren’t you just his ex?”

“I might be his ex,” Seulgi snickered, stepping closer, “But I know him better than anyone else—”

“I highly doubt that’s true since he has a twin brother, but sure, whatever you say, darling.” I cut her off, my tone turning cold as something like jealousy gripped my heart. My wolf was far from exhilarated to know that Seulgi and Yunho shared a past, but everyone had a life before they met their mates, no? I couldn’t flip out over something like this.

“Listen here, bitch,” Seulgi hissed, stepping so close I could smell her breath. It reeked of blood and menthol, “I’m just here to warn you, but since you want to get smart with me, I might as well give you a piece of my mind. You are nothing to—”

“Kang Seulgi.” Yunho’s sharp and dark tone made me shiver and Seulgi’s eyes widened. I hadn’t even heard him approach, too focused on Seulgi and my own anger. His scent was strong, the sandalwood making it hard to breathe as it spiked sourly, “Haven’t I told you countless times to leave alone anyone that comes in contact with me?”

“Are you scared I’ll let them know who you really are? This bitch isn’t even into you, I can—”

“You can’t do nothing, shut the fuck up, you know nothing.” Yunho sneered as he stopped next to me, a few good heads taller than Seulgi as he loomed over her. She didn’t look intimidated or scared as she grinned widely, almost insane looking. She tilted her head, her eyes slipping between the two of us.

“You think just because you scent this bitch others won’t touch—” I flinched when Yunho suddenly grabbed her by the throat, yanking her towards himself. Even Seulgi seemed shocked, her eyes turning wide as she gripped Yunho’s wrist in fear.

“If you call her a bitch one more time, Seulgi, I swear to fucking God, I will murder you right here and right now.” Yunho’s growl was guttural, I knew his wolf was talking rather than him, but Seulgi didn’t seem to realise that as she started shaking like a leaf. She gasped, her eyes flickering to me before she tried to smooth out her face and look friendlier.

“Is she—Yunho, it hurts.” She whined, lower lip trembling as Yunho’s nails grew sharper and dug more into her neck. I stepped up, knowing that Yunho wasn’t completely himself.

“Let her go, Yunho, you’re hurting her.” My tone was harsh, and I gripped his lower arm to squeeze it painfully. Yunho huffed and let go of Seulgi, who I grabbed before she could stumble over her own feet.

“Are you alright?” I asked quietly as she started to hyperventilate, her eyes filled with tears.

“Are you mates?” Her voice was quiet as she looked back at Yunho, leaving me speechless. I opened my mouth to deny it, but no words came out.

“Yes.” It was Yunho who answered, firm and loud, I could feel him step closer as his warmth mingled with mine. Seulgi gulped, then looked at him before at me, brushing my touch off her.

“I’m sorry.” Then she turned and hurried off before we could stop her, her sobs quite loud as they echoed down the corridors. I gulped, feeling a lump in my throat as Yunho was still behind me, hovering over me as if I would run away if he didn’t.

Even I had a breaking point, so I gave in, “What do you want—”

“Forgive me, for everything.” Yunho was speaking before I could even finish my sentence as he came around me, and gripped my cheeks, taking me off guard, “I don’t demand you do it right away, I know you must be very angry with me right now, but please, listen to me before you say anything. I didn’t believe in mates because my parents aren’t true mates. My father’s mate died when they were children and my mother denied her real mate to be with my father, so I decided to take matters into my own hands and not wait for love to find me. I—I also might’ve been selfish and a jackass for not wanting to settle down just yet, that is mainly the reason I’ve tried to ignore our bond this whole time.

“It’s so shitty of me and I’m so ashamed of myself, but I was scared that you might not want me back, that I might be in a one-sided situationship. My parents had always told us that we have the right to deny whoever the Universe destined us with and find our own person, but they were wrong, they—they don’t know what the pull of a true mate feels like. When Mingi and Petrova started going out, I was so angry, I felt so abandoned. Mingi and I had promised we would never imprint on anyone, but he broke his promise when he imprinted on Petrova. I was so dumb to be mad at him, and I was even more dumb to try and deny what we two have. I realised I was jealous of Mingi at some point because I thought I’d never have what he has, and then you showed up and I—I didn’t know what to do, how to navigate all these new emotions. I also had a girlfriend at the time and I seriously thought we’d work out, but…you were all I could think about and want. In fact, I don’t want anyone else but you, Y/N. I’m just—I’m asking you to give me a chance. Just one chance.”

I gulped, overwhelmed by Yunho’s confession and his proximity altogether as my wolf purred, prompting me to nuzzle my cheek into Yunho’s palm, inhale his scent deeply as my nose brushed against his hot wrist, “One chance?”

Yunho’s heart skipped a beat as vanilla wrapped around us, his eyes regaining that pretty spark in them, “Yes, just one chance, I beg. I’ll prove myself to you, I’ll treat you right, and I’ll love you unconditionally. I want to make up for the lost time, may I—can you let me? I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”

I licked my lips and watched as Yunho’s mouth parted, inhaling through his lips as his heart started racing. His ears were flushed and I smiled, a little amused, as I raised my left hand and cupped his cheek, making his eyes widen. But he didn’t stay frozen, he let his right hand fall from my cheek as he pressed his palm over my hand to keep it firmly pressing into his cheek, “I won’t forgive you overnight, I hope you’re aware of that. You made me really suffer, Yunho, it was so painful at some points, I thought the broken bond would kill me.”

“I’m sorry,” Yunho whispered sorrowfully as he leaned forward to press his forehead against mine, and I sighed, closing my eyes. For a second, it felt as if it were just the two of us in the world, our scents mixed and creating a safe cocoon that couldn’t be broken unless we wanted it to. I felt my heart beat in a new rhythm, one that was stronger and more frantic somehow. I realised it was Yunho’s heartbeat I was feeling, and not my own, it made me wonder whether he could feel mine too.

“I haven’t felt this complete my whole life,” Yunho whispered in a shaky tone and I gulped, angling my head so that our noses would brush together. Yunho’s sharp exhale fanned over my face and I smiled, listening to the whisper of my wolf. She was right, I finally had him, and I didn’t have to withhold anymore. Even if with baby steps, we could work this out, I could forgive him if he proves himself to be a respectable and trustworthy werewolf. So, I tilted my head away, hearing Yunho’s breath catch as if he was panicking until my lips were pressing against his pink ones. They were warm, just like I had fantasized they would be, and they tasted like strawberries. I almost giggled, but I was too focused on the feeling that spread through my body, stealing my breath away even if it was just an innocent and fleeting peck to Yunho’s lips. My body tingled, and it felt like I saw the world for the first time when my eyes fluttered open, Yunho was already staring at me deeply. His cheeks were flushed dark, his fake blush all but disappearing under his real blush, and he was smiling so widely his cheeks must’ve hurt once we pulled away. I chuckled and shook my head, gently placing my arms around his neck as he hugged me close to himself.

“This isn’t me forgiving you, by the way, my wolf is just too desperate at this point for me to fight against her,” I muttered and Yunho laughed, his eyes creasing as he threw his head back, the sound of his joy music to my ears. I couldn’t help but grin widely and tighten my arms around him, wondering how I had gotten so lucky to have him of all werewolves as my mate.

“Mine too, are you busy right now?” The mischievous glint in Yunho’s eyes told me whatever we were about to do would define how we’d move forward with our relationship.

“Not really, why?”

“Mingi won’t be back until late evening, the dorm is all mine,” Yunho whispered, biting his bottom lip as his pupils dilated, eyes slowly trailing down my body as if I was already naked.

“Good, because I forbid Yeri from bringing back boys to our dorm, I can’t go around breaking my own rule.” I wriggled my eyebrows at Yunho, making him laugh as his hands slowly slipped lower on my torso, feeling me all up. It made me feel hot all over, my wolf purring loudly as I fought the urge to tilt my head back and bare my neck at Yunho.

“Oh, the horror on her face if she’d see her brother under your sheets.” Yunho made a mocking sound as he pressed a hand against his mouth, my eyes lingered on his long fingers. I’m sure he noticed because he suddenly smirked, then swiftly pecked my lips before he detached himself from me, intertwining our fingers as he eagerly led the way towards our side of campus, “Let’s stop wasting time.”

I hummed, feeling my chest all warm from Yunho’s warmth, my cheeks flushed and my heart racing in my chest. All this time I thought my mate would never want me back, yet here we were now, headed to explore what the future held for us. My wolf and I couldn’t have been happier.

≡  Masterlist ≡ 

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid

@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

@vnessalau @oddracha @chatsgotmytongue @potatos-on-clouds @yunhowooyo

@watermelon2319 @yoongzsmile28 @klllerwaifu @apriecotte @hwasbbyg

@kyeos4ng @samiiy20 @woosanhobros @aswho1estuff @khjoongie98

@ateez-main-yapper @kang-ulzzang @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @ginger-mingi @redzie02

@unholywriters @autieofthevalley @roomsofangel @peachyy-joonie @baeksofty

@tunafishyfishylike @syubseokie @jycas @fandom-freak-geek @intaksfav

@itswaffleberry @e3ellie @skz1-4-3 @hoe4yunho @kyeomooniee

@winklehwa @eyesonlyformingi @khjssss @torieisawesome99 @amrose8

@faeriehwa @hongjoongsprincess @iceteainsummer @lac3ybow @aurorajoye

@londonbridges01 @hyukssunflower @hwashua-luv @halloweenbyphoebebridgers

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 21/11✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hi! Would Macaque kidnap Wukong again? I read your comic, the last page, where Macaque is the kidnapping expert. And I'm very curious about it. Anyway, I love your comics! You are awesome.

Haha I don't think they really need it unless they want to do a "traditional wedding courtnapping" but it would be pretty odd since they kind of already live togehter.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I know this is definitely a LONG ways away, but, imagine: Wukong and Macaque playing the newlyweds game. What questions? What answers? Who’s asking the questions? Who’s getting the most right?

I wont list all the lesson but I think Macaque would get most of them right just because Wukong never really changed a lot during the years, while Macaque went through different stages of his life, and and he has new hobbies and tastes.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will mk have a nightmare about LBD? If yes Then we will have some angst with fluffy monkeys family moments!!!

Oh he has. He has many. Most of them he has while he is at pigsy's.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can you please shows up a flashback backstory on how MK/Wukong discovered/found out/came out as trans?? 🙏🙏🙏 Banana sundae with chocolate sauce, rainbow sprinkles, THREE cherries, and a super-deluxe one-and-only Monkie King™️ collectible spoon???

Anonimo ha chiesto: will we see any past Shadowpeach?? I’m interested to see how you frame their dynamic back 5en.

Hahah maybe in the future, I'll see

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we get Wukong telling dad jokes? Please, I’m begging i want to see MK laughing and Macaque just being so disappointed with Wukong yet so smitten. I want to see more Monkey family domestic blissss. 🙏🙏🙏🙏

I don't have my dad jokes book here but man give Macaque an award for the patience he has with these two children

@goofybearclown ha chiesto: Hi :3 Just wanted to say I love your shadowpeach and cotl AU!!! I didn't notice you made both at first but when I did I was like "waow :0". Tbh your works are in my top 3 series on Tumblr! @fenikzia ha chiesto: I love your LMK comic so much, I look forward to reading the new additions to it when they come out every other day,and reading your comic just makes my day better. Even if it hasn't updated a particular day, I make sure to go back and reread the newest part.Keep doing what you're doing and make sure to take breaks! @skye-minecraftyt-blog ha chiesto: You! I like you! Your Bio parents Lmk au always makes me extremely happy and I regularly reread it. ((o(^∇^)o)) Just wanted to say it @blazeandsilver ha chiesto: Hello, I just wanted to say your artwork is absolutely stunning, it makes my day whenever I see that you posted something new to the BioParents comic. Please keep up the good work and be sure to take some time for yourself, you’re important too.

AWWWWWW THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hihi shadowpeach au question: You mentioned in the latest comic that Mac is more lean and skinny than Wukong. Will we ever see the full extent of that?? ALSO I ADORE YOUR ART OMG ❤️❤️

A fully naked Macaque you say? Maybe.... who knows....

Anonimo ha chiesto: I come to defend Wukong acting like a man looking at a victorian lady ankles, he hasn’t seen his (ex) husband’s fur in centuries. And he probably hasn’t socialize in years either besides MK and the gang. Romantically he is stunned right? I doubt he has even looked at anyone besides Macaque anyways…

Honestly I like to think that Macaque was the only being in all the universe that was eer able to make him flustered

@mochalikesdrawing ha chiesto: So I got a question, will we ever get to see kaiju MK again?

I have a scene post AU I would like to draw. Maybe.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ignoring all the angst because it is crushing my soul /pos, I'm lowkey convinced that Macaque knows Wukong feels some kind of way about him because he can hear his heartbeat go crazy at certain moments and isn't dumb, but just isn't calling Wukong on it because he's still trying to sort his own feelings first. BUT ONCE HE DOES OH BOY-

Hahah Macaque knows perfectly well Wukong is down for him. In the meantime Wukong is alwasy afraid he's just imagining things bc he's dense af.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do you think Wukong and macaque would be cuddling and macaque would be watching something scary and Wukong would be trying to not pay attention to it because he hates scary stuff or would it be the other way around?

yess

@ep2nd ha chiesto: In your shadowpeach bio parents au, if MK and Wukong were created by Nuwa, with Nuwa using Macaque and Wukong as a base, has anyone wondered who created Macaque? And does Macaque himself knows?

Wait Nuwa created Wukong? If that's so I think then all the 5 monkeys were made by her, for some reason.

@boonalina ha chiesto: Sooo what exactly is the courtnapping process like? Is it just a simple "I'm gonna pick you up and carry you away" or is it an entire ceremony? Does someone have to lure the person into place? For example, Mei bringing Redson over to a secluded spot so that Mk can "courtnap" him? (Side note: I've been in this fandom for around two years now, and this comic is what made me find out about courtnapping lol)

I "think" anything that can be counted as like a sneak attack that takes them out of guard and brings them to the designated courtnapped room can be considered as courtnapping technically.

Anonimo ha chiesto: ... Hey so your shadow peach bio parent AU is better way better than season five. WOAH, WHO SAID THAT!! (no but seriously it is like a sitcom I tune on ever so often. Much love 🫶)

Haha thank you! That's a HUGE statement!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I wonder if MK has any unique attributes/abilities as a living mass of celestial material?

He's such a cocktail ofdifferent energies I wouldn't be surprised he is able to glow in the dark.

@cjtuy ha chiesto: I do have a question it's mainly about pigsy and tang when and how long have they been together as a couple and did both of them find mk are they married ?

They have been together for almost a year, but I don't think they are married, but maybe that could happen in the future??? But yeah MK found out a little after season 5 that they are together, that was also the same time he started calling Tang "Papa"

Anonimo ha chiesto: Has macaque added any personal items to the house? Like is he moved in? Have Wukong and macaque improved or changed anything else besides making the bed bigger?

Yes he did! Half of his belongins are in FFM, althought he's a little more minimalistic than Wukong. He also have been bothering Wukong to death so that he can finally organize his stuff (and they were roomates

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like if they were to play Minecraft or something macaque would be the base mom. He would be the only one to remember to farm food to not starve. The others would probably forget all the time that hunger is a thing in game. Wukong or Mk: oh dang does anyone have food I'm starving Macaque: (always brings extra for this reason) "sighs" yes

AH!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Remember the Minor Scale episode, from season 2? Where MK learn how to shrink himself? And there’s also the final episode of that season where MK just grow very big to try to fight LBD. I just love that part of his power and I have seen very little people showing it. Like, sometimes that power can show up when the poor boy is experiencing overwhelming emotions that can’t be contained anymore, or pure exhaustion. For example, Having many responsibility can lead to a lot of stress and exhaustion and at some point MK just can’t do more and just become tiny, not able to do more. On the opposite, maybe he experience trauma again through a nightmare (like about azure for example) and the emotional burden is to much and he just becomes big because of that. You see my vision? I love sizeshifting base on emotions :)

Aww and i love emotion-based powers, they are just so easy to play around.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Tbh the show should let macaque have a motorcycle. Wukong gets to be passenger princess

Yesss

Anonimo ha chiesto: as we get into the colder months i like to imagine MK’s first winter coat and he’s all super fluffy and warm

Cool for the monkey parents, bad for pigsy and all the hair in the restaurant from sheeding.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think it would be so funny if MKs rock hadn't been cracked and he'd been raised on FFM by wukong. If the same thing happens in the show macaque planning to take mks powers thinking he's just Wukongs student but then while macaque and MK are training. Since macaque is so close he notices his ears. (Being raised by a monkey he gets his form sooner) suddenly putting everything on hold busting into FFM and is like WUKONG WTF

There's a fic on AO3 about it it's A Son of Two Dads

@cheese-hommo ha chiesto: Hii, fiesta I want to say I love how you draw and everything, it just looks so cool and beautiful. Now, with the last chapter of Monkey parents Au and so, with the acknowledgement of the demon etiquette and else, DBK and Wukong really misunderstand the comfort scene for a confession? Or something more? It was just so funny seeing the two of them getting so embarrassed at the end 🙂‍↕️

Ah, 2 young demons in their true forms so close to each other, blushing? Scandalous.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I've seen Mk is his Lego merch- he gots a tooth gap- so does this MK have one or did he get it filled?

Wait that was a tooth gap??? I though it was like, a detail of the smile

Anonimo ha chiesto: 🎤 what is your official (if any) opinion on Ink MK? (as a character, plot device, literary parallel, what have you)

It's ok. I personally believe "shadow" version of one character with their own fears and doubts is a clique a little bit too much used. But they give a lot of angst.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Thoughts on Macaque knowing either Japanese or Korean due to him liking anime.

I'll give you one better. Macaque always traveled to Japan pretty frequently during the centuries. Then became a weeb

Anonimo ha chiesto: Maybe it's just me but Wukong looks a bit thicker each time, is it because his fur's thickening or is he getting chubbier ??????? Anyway luv ur art

Both.

[ellecdc]

Since we’re thinking about roommate AUs… ⛄️ with roommate!Remus and the prompt “uh, yeah- i took your sweatpants out of the laundry by mistake. sorry.”?

these two awkjfahiarhfawg -> the winter games

Remus Lupin x roommate!reader who acted in self-defence [804 words]

CW: landlords, it's very cold, fluff

Remus - though undoubtedly upset on his own behalf - was thoroughly devastated for you when he got home to find the flat nearly just as cold as it was outside. At least he got to spend his day in the warmth of the office; you were off today, and from the sniffles coming from the living room on account of your no doubt cold bitten nose, he knew you were home.

“Is this sodding radiator still not working?” He grumbled in way of hello as he hurried into the living room - coat, mitts, hat and all - to investigate. 

“No! Don’t touch it!” You shouted from the certifiable nest you’d made out of pillows and blankets from the entire flat. 

“Why not? It’s already not working; I hardly see how trying to fix it can make it any worse.”

“Yes but right now it’s the landlord's problem; if you go busting it in an attempt to fix it, we’ll be getting the bill.”

And damn the scenic yet ancient building the two of you called home, and damn your negligent landlord no doubt cosy with his own working furnace and perhaps even an operational fireplace in his warm flat, but mostly damn you for being so smart and so right and so cute. 

Remus let out a sigh and stood to face you. “Well, what have you been doing to stay warm all day then?” 

You pursed your lips as you looked around the flat. “Well, I was trying for cosy vibes with holiday movies, I lit candles mostly for ambience but there’s a part of my brain that insists the temperature rose at least one degree in response, and hot cocoa.” You finished your sentence by lifting the mug in your hand.

“I appreciate the effort, but I have a feeling that the cocoa is the only effective strategy at this point.” 

You smirked at him as you lifted the many blankets off of your lap and made to stand. “I’ll go make you one.”

You were just about to step behind the couch when Remus’ hand involuntarily shot out and grabbed you by your elbow. “Hang on.” Remus laughed accusatively. “What are you wearing?”

Remus had the feeling you were aware you’d been caught as you took a moment to consider your answer before slowly pivoting on your sock-clad feet, smiling at him bashfully. 

“Erm, yeah…I took your sweatpants out of the laundry by mistake. Sorry.” 

But Remus didn’t release your arm and you didn’t appear to expect him to; staring him down for a beat before you deflated with a theatrical moan. “Fine. I’m layered, okay!? Is that what you wanted to hear?!” And with this, you pulled the waistband of Remus’ sweatpants that you had needed to roll numerous times away from your hips to expose another set of your own thick sweatpants underneath them. “And underneath these sweatpants are a pair of leggings. I had tried putting two pairs of my own sweatpants on, but it was too tight and the feeling of losing circulation only left me more cold so yeah, I went back into your room after already hijacking your bedding and helped myself to a pair of sweats. Okay? But any grievances will need to be taken up with my attorney, Rem, because I am cold and it was self-defence!” 

You paused abruptly then; a heat now evident in your face as you panted, and he only hoped that the heat was a welcome reprieve from the cold. 

“I’m cold.” You repeated quite pathetically, and Remus couldn’t help it anymore. He laughed. A big, deep, belly-aching laugh. 

“Oh, oh god, my poor girl.” He managed between laughs, reaching out and pulling you towards him by the shoulders; you swayed into him all too willingly, burrowing into him greedily even though he was sure his jacket was still cold with the fresh winter air. “M’so sorry you’ve been so cold.”

“You should be.” You whimpered into his chest, clearly chuffed at getting the sympathy you’d been looking for. “I’m very cold.”

“I bet.” He agreed, rubbing a few stripes up and down your back before pulling away from you; he could actually see you mourn the loss. “How about you make me some cocoa, and I’ll go change into comfies and meet you in that nest of blankets; we can pool together our resources.” The resource was warmth, but you clearly understood that when you went all but flying in the direction of the kitchen.

“Make haste, Lupin!” 

Remus wasn’t ashamed - not even a little - at the speed in which he ran to his room to change out of his work clothes and into his comfies, grabbing another one of his jumpers to throw in the dryer for you.

What? Your outfit obviously wasn’t complete without a matching jumper.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 15: I Don't Know What You Did To Me!

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (IT'S TIME BABY!), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 22K (Hear Me Out... It's Wonderful)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Denial, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Jealousy, Anger, Rage, A WHOLE LOT OF SHOUTING, Stan Edgar Being A Jerk, Sexist comments, Illusions to Sex, Heavy Petting? Making Out (It's ABOUT time), Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: Alright, hear me out... I know this is a long one, but I got so excited and the sun was in my eyes, and I forgot where I parked my car and... well... I got tired of the cliffhangers. 😂 But seriously y'all I am SO excited 😉🥰

The apartment was cold and dark when you walked through the front door, but the plants called out to you, filling the silence of the early morning, rustling and turning towards you as you enter. The curtains on the windows in the living room were closed, but the sunlight that dripped beneath the fabric was sufficient to see that Ben wasn't there.

It had been exactly seven days since you'd walked out of this apartment with Ben beside you, arguing with him about finally letting you go to work, seven days since you'd killed your brother, and seven days since Ben had tried to call you and you hadn't answered.

You wished you had. The guilt stirred in the pit of your stomach from not picking up the phone and to remedy it, you'd tried to call Ben, but he hadn't picked up.

And before you could talk yourself out of it, you'd sent an awkward text with the one word that you could think to say:

"Hi."

I'm such an idiot.

You really didn't know what else to say, not after everything that had happened. Not to mention you didn't want to tell him how much you'd wanted him there with you, how you'd imagined him riding on the bus alongside you while the wooded forests quickly shifted into farmland. You didn't know how Ben would react to that, especially since you weren't sure how that seemed like a friend-thing and you still weren't sure why you wanted him with you when your entire life fell apart.

But Ben hadn't answered the text, and he hadn't tried to call you again, which only made you feel worse for not answering his call a week ago.

You had been expecting him to at least try to call one more time or text you, but he hadn't, and there was a gaping hole inside that continued to open wider and wider with each passing day that you didn't speak to him.

He's probably out on a date or something. Has more important things to do than listen to my soap opera or help me pick up the pieces of my life.

It did still feel like it was in pieces. Everything you knew had changed within the course of a few hours, but you were glad to have your grandmother with you.

You had stayed with her instead of going back to NYC, allowing her to cook for you and soothe you the best she could with cups of tea and the love that she'd always had in abundance for you. It was still a little weird to think of her as a supe, but it was getting easier to swallow, and it felt like you were seeing her for the first time.

Since you'd talked about her time as a supe, she'd been opening up more about the past and you loved hearing all her stories. It also was making you see Ben in a new light. 

Your grandmother knew more about his childhood than Ben had ever mentioned to you. He never seemed to be forthcoming with any information about himself, but the things that she'd told you about his father and the way he treated Ben made your blood boil.

It made you want to raise his father from the dead just to put him back in the grave all over again.

Of course, knowing all of this now made you feel worse for not picking up his call. A part of you thought that it was odd that someone who was so concerned for you at the hospital after everything happened with Elijah had gone radio silent.

And it made a part of you worry about him. Yes, as your grandmother had put it, Ben was more indestructible than you were, but you couldn't deny the fact that you were worried about him.

But as much as the last seven days had been soothing, there were still some odd moments.

For example, you'd woken up earlier one morning and followed your nose into the kitchen where your grandmother was making breakfast only to hear her muttering "what a fucking idiot" under her breath. Weirder still was another time you'd come back from the bathroom only to hear her cursing while she aggressively knit something that looked like a sweater and heard her whisper "I'm going to kill him. Could I have been any clearer?"

You hadn't asked her what she meant, but you'd assumed she meant her next door neighbor Mr. Filbert who was about the same age as your grandmother and was the bane of her existence. Each day she would have a new complaint that made her march over there and yell at him about something.

Personally, you thought he liked it when she yelled at him. Not to mention every Christmas he always brought over a large bottle of Brandy, your grandmother's favorite, and she made a chess pie specifically for him at the annual Christmas party she threw.

Annie and you had been shipping them harder than the post office the week before Christmas for years, but nothing ever came of it. In fact, the two of you had a yearly bet to see if this was the year that Mr. Filbert would finally do something about it or if it would be your grandmother who stopped being so stubborn and blind to what was in front of her face.

You couldn't imagine being that way if you saw how much someone liked you or went out of their way to care for you.

But being at home for a week made you feel better.

Everything that happened was settling over you, the newfound strength of your powers, your connection to nature, and there was the other thing you'd noticed, but were afraid to think about.

The thing you realized after you stepped out of the creaky shower and looked at yourself in the mirror without being covered in dirt. 

At first you thought it was a trick of the light, but turning your face this way and that had confirmed it. The small wrinkles on the top of your forehead had faded, your laugh lines weren't as pronounced, and even the few gray hairs that you'd had since you pushed yourself too hard in high school and your first, and only, year of college, were gone. You were visibly younger and the only thing that you could think of that changed it was how you felt when you absorbed the energy of the plants. You remembered how it felt to absorb their life force, to have the energy flooding through your body taking away your pain, and healing what was broken. It felt like the best kind of high there was, your body melding with the tangled vines and unfurling leaves, feeling connected to everything in that shop while it made you whole again.

Standing there and looking at yourself, but not yourself in the mirror was weird and a little overwhelming.

There was also a part of you that didn't want to become an creepy old lady who sang to glowing flowers in the middle of the woods in the dead of night.

Annie had noticed it the moment that she'd seen you, and the two of you had discussed it over a Alien movie marathon, what it would be like if you could take the life of plants to make yourself younger and if it meant that you could live longer.

You figured that it was as good as true.

But to get back in tune with your powers you had sat outside in the back garden meditating. It seemed to work. Sitting out in the warmth of the day, with the breeze wicking the sweat at the back of your neck, the grass brushing against your worn jeans, and the call of nature all around you, it made you feel at peace for the first time in a long time.

It was nice to have a few moments to yourself, but that also meant that the thought of what came next seemed to hover over you. You knew that you had a long way to go before you fully got in control of your powers again, but you also knew that you couldn't hide in Illinois forever.

It felt like you were running from everything that happened, and you knew the longer you stayed away the harder it would be to go back to NYC, face the aftermath of Darren's death, and see Ben.

Although, he hadn't showed up, Annie had. She came on the second day and spent the next four days with you the same way the two of you spent your weekends growing up: with nostalgic movies, junk food, pizza, and copious amounts of wine, while bundled under plush blankets and pillows on the living room floor.

But the more days that passed when you were in Illinois, the more you were aware that something was missing, and now standing in your apartment you felt the same way.

Why?

Bean comes shooting out of your open bedroom and down the hallway in a frenzy, practically knocking into your ankles in his haste to brush his dark gray coat against your legs. He purrs loudly to get your attention, and you drop to your knees to pet him, staring into his luminous orange eyes.

"Hey Bean, did you miss me?" You smile at your cat, rubbing along the curve of his back the way you know he likes before you work your fingers under his chin.

The creature, now named "Rex" was perched on your shoulder like a bird of prey watching Bean with curiosity. The name was chosen due to how it looked like a T-rex with longer forearms whenever it stood up on it's back legs, but not from ferocity. He was a bit of a cuddler, more so than Bean. You also thought that Ben would appreciate the name given how much grief he'd given you when you told him your cat's name.

Bean glances up and hisses at Rex, who curls into your neck as if he's afraid.

"Oh, so you’re fine ripping someone apart, but you draw the line at meeting your brother?” You smile reaching up to scratch along his neck.

Annie had been terrified of him at first. She’d heard from Butcher exactly what he had done to Darren and was wary that Rex could grow into a maneater at any moment.

But Rex didn't seem to have man eating tendencies, at least now he didn't.

And when it came to Annie you figured that she was angrier that she hadn't gotten a shot at Darren.

She's waited a hell of a long time.

Bean narrows his eyes and raises his paw to swat at Rex, the claws scraping off his smooth leaf-like coat and leaving behind no damage. Rex cowers further into your neck.

"Stop acting like a jealous, only child." You chide the cat. "I love both of you the same way. And you've got to get along."

Bean makes a low noise in the back of his throat but leans into your hand asking for more rubs.

You indulge him for another minute, before looking up down the dark hallway. "Ben?"

The name echoes through the apartment, but Ben doesn't appear in the hallway.

I wonder where he is. Maybe he's at Butcher's.

You had spoken to Butcher once, who'd assured you that he, Frenchie, MM, and Hughie were cleaning everything up and that there wasn't anything for you to worry about.

You trusted Butcher to handle it. The last thing you wanted was to be unable to walk down the street because everyone was running for their lives and screaming while hoping you didn't unleash Rex on Manhattan.

One of the vines on the opposing wall flicks the light switch on, bathing your living room in artificial light. You pause, your hand frozen on Bean's back as you look over the living room and kitchen.

The apartment is spotless. There are no empty bottles of scotch, no half smoked blunts in the ashtray on the coffee table, no empty pizza boxes stacked next to your couch, and no dirty clothes and socks strewn around the room. In fact, there aren't any clothes at all or shoes.

Everything that belongs to Ben that was once scattered over your small living room is gone, leaving the room almost uncomfortably bare.

Is he doing laundry?

You strain your ears to hear the tell-tale sound of the sink or the shower in the bathroom, but don't hear anything.

Maybe he cleaned up because I was gone?

It seems a little out in left field, but you reason to yourself that Ben had tried to clean up while you were gone, just like he did when you got back from the hospital two weeks ago.

But as you walk down the hallway towards your bedroom you notice that the hall closet when Ben keeps his other things is empty. Every article of clothing, every shoe, every sock, and the small box of personal items that Ben had never let you see into was completely gone.

Something inside your chest begins to crack, you're not sure what, but all you know is that it doesn't feel good. There's an odd foreboding feeling that sends alarm bells off in your head.

Did he leave?

The thought is like a punch in the gut and your chest tightens, making it difficult to breathe.

Why would he leave without telling me?

You pull your phone out of your back pocket and scroll through to find Ben's number. This time you don't hesitate to hit the call button.

Each time it rings you can feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into something that you can't describe. You didn't understand why he left, and why he wasn't here when you got back.

Was it because I didn't pick up the phone when he called? Was it because he finally figured that I wasn't going to sleep with him and he decided to leave?

He doesn't answer, but this time you leave him a voicemail.

"Hey Ben, it's me. I just got back to the apartment and all your stuff is gone, which means either we got robbed or you got kidnapped by your evil brother." You laugh awkwardly. "But I'm back in town so you should call me and let me know if your stuff should be here or whatever-um-" You clear your throat trying to keep your voice from shaking a little. "Just call me back okay?"

When the final beep sounds whatever it was you were feeling was lodged deep into the back of your throat and this time, as you look out over the pristine living room and kitchen you allow yourself to notice just how empty it looks without Ben in it.

"Babe!" Annie calls waving her hand from where she sits at one of the artisanal wrought iron tables at Calamity Coffee Co to catch your attention.

The inside of the shop was identical to the last time the two of you were here. There's still a collection of best-selling author's to be lining the wooden bar along the front windows, still a much too happy barista who grins when you walk through the door, and still a group of people sitting on the plush velvet couch talking about absolutely nothing at all while sipping colorful coffee mugs

It was surreal, as if the past two weeks hadn't happened and you were the same person that you were then.

Annie had left about two days before you came back to the city after she got a phone call from someone at Vought demanding that she come back for some "big emergency."

You still had no idea what the "big emergency" was, but you figured that you were about to find out. Annie hadn't been able to send you more than a handful of errant texts in which you planned this coffee shop meet.

Truthfully you weren't sure that you could share any of her enthusiasm or her excitement over what the "big emergency" was. You were still swimming in whatever the feeling was at Ben's sudden disappearance and his radio silence.

You'd thought that the feeling would have passed and tried to think about all the positives about him not living in your apartment would be, but the list was shorter than you expected, and the negatives were mounting higher with every passing minute since you'd called him and left the awkward voicemail. It was odd, especially after how hard you'd fought for him to not live with you, and how hard you'd tried to convince him that he didn’t want to live with you, but the feeling was still there.

Maybe he didn't move out and maybe he's been kidnapped and taken back to Russia!

That thought was distressing, but you thought that if Ben had been kidnapped your apartment would have looked like a train ran through it. Not to mention there wouldn't have been fresh water or fresh food laid out for Bean, almost as if Ben had been back to feed him.

But if he had voluntarily left, you still didn't understand why he had. You racked your brain trying to come up with something, some reason why Ben wouldn't be there, some little detail that you missed in the week that led up to the big explosion that was Darren's death and the destruction of "Please Don't Die," but you couldn't remember anything.

If anything, Ben and you were getting along better than you had in the days that lead up to it. He had been more attentive, had taken care of you in his own way, had sat with you on the couch and watched his ridiculously cheesy old films and pouted whenever you laughed at the lines he had delivered in all seriousness.

And the only reason you could come up with was that Ben genuinely didn't care about living with you or being around you as much as you thought he did and that he was tired of pretending to be a nicer person.

So basically, you were back to square one and you were trying to shake off the feelings that had started to bloom whenever you spent time with him and Ben acted like someone who you could love, someone that you could see yourself with. The same feelings that you had fought to push down and ignore because you didn't want to feel that way about someone like him.

The rays of the mid-day sun stream through the large windows catching the glints of gold in Annie's hair. The steam from her latte swirls and tangles out from her cup, crawling across the table to where the iced latte she ordered for you sits. The condensation has already started to drip down the plastic outside to the white napkin beneath, smudging the purple script of the coffee shop's name printed on the paper.

"Hey." You smile and embrace your friend.

It was good to see her again, but she looked more tired than usual. Her makeup was smudged beneath her eyes and her hair wasn't tied up in her usual high ponytail, but instead was thrown over her shoulders and finger combed.

"I missed you." She sighs into your shoulder. "Work is killing me. Ashley is going to be my thirteenth reason I swear." Annie rolls her eyes.

The wilted wildflowers in the center of the table perk up in your presence without you focusing on them.

"I missed you too." You reach into the front pocket of your overalls and extract Rex, who is now about the size of a coke can, and who crawls across the table to say hi to Annie.

She gently scratches under his little chin the way she knows he likes. "You're not going to eat me are you?"

"He already ate-"

Annie's eyes widen. "Not Bean!"

"Are you crazy? Do you think that I'd let him eat Bean? No. He had some cat food. Surprisingly he likes it so I guess that's what I'm gonna feed him and-"

"What is that thing?" A barista asks as he passes Annie and your table on the way back to the counter, toting a large tray of dirty mugs.

"Oh it's a-" You clear your throat thinking of something to call Rex. "It's an Aconitum Napellus." You reply saying the only name that could come to mind and hoping that the barista didn't know the scientific name for wolfsbane.

"Wow I've heard about those I think!" The barista replies leaning towards where Rex is stretching out in the sunlight on the tabletop. "Aren't they super rare?"

"Yep." Annie nods her head, the picture of seriousness. "My friend saved him from a guy who was practically part beast." She shoots you a wink, understanding exactly what Aconitum Napellus is.

"Can I pet him?" The barista's hand is already halfway to Rex, but you reach Rex first and pull him to you.

Honestly, you didn’t think that Rex would bite his finger off, but you didn't want to take that chance.

"Um. No. He's kind of finicky about other people." You laugh awkwardly.

"Bummer." The barista shrugs and walks back to the counter.

"You really think that it's a good idea bringing Godzilla out like that?" Annie takes a sip from the steaming cup in front of her.

"I don't think he's vicious unless I tell him to be." You look down at where Rex is curling into your arms. He's grown maybe another inch or two, but not enough to attract unwanted attention.

"And are you going to tell him to be?"

"Now?"

"I need to know, just in case I have to start running for my life."

"I'll keep you posted, just try not to piss me off today." You snort reaching for the latte on top of the table. "So, what was the 'big emergency.'"

"Oh my fuck! You're not going to believe this!" Annie leans across the table. "But it's kinda a big secret so you can't tell anyone, at least until not after tonight."

"Why tonight?"

"Because tonight is the big official announcement/celebration." She braces her elbow on the table and extends her pinky. "Special pinky swear me."

"Special pinky swear? What are we ten?" You roll your eyes at her.

The special pinky swear was the secret handshake that Annie and you had come up with when you were eight after Annie got kissed by Matthew Colson in second grade behind the giant oak tree in the schoolyard. The "special pinky swear" was only used in moments of complete seriousness. The same handshake had seen juicy secrets the two of you had shared over the years with no one else. When Annie lost her virginity to Drummer Boy, when the two of you got high in Esther Masterson's family cornfield, when you stole a bright red thong on a dare from Victoria's Secret, and when Newton and you had sex for the first time in the backseat of his dad's pickup truck senior year at Look Out Point. All of these moments had involved the "special pinky swear," so for her to bring it up, meant that this was big.

You hesitate. You don’t know why, but there's an odd feeling tugging in the back of your mind, almost as if you know what she's going to say before she says it.

"Babe." Annie wiggles her pinky over the table and you take it.

"Okay, what is it?"

She's still leaning on the table towards you, her blonde hair falling forward over her shoulders, and her eyes bright with her secret. "Ben is joining The Seven."

You sit there for a moment, her words not quite comprehending in your mind. And when it does, you feel the same tightness in your chest when you realized that all of Ben's stuff wasn't in your apartment anymore. You forget how to breathe, how to act normal, because you didn’t understand why Ben would do that, not after everything that happened with Payback.

"What?" You choke out.

"Honestly, I'm kind of surprised that he didn't tell you since the two of you are so close." She tilts her head to the side as if examining you for a minute.

"But why? Everything with Payback was so fucked up and that means he'd have to be around Stan again and-" You couldn’t finish the sentence, it felt like you were running out of air, a vice clamping down on your throat, because if Ben was going back to The Seven it meant that you'd probably never see him again.

Before the possibility of him being kidnapped or all his stuff being stolen meant that you'd run into him at least at some point, but this no way. You never saw anyone on The Seven save for Annie and that was because she still ran ops with Butcher and she was your best friend, but Ben and you were… nothing.

And standing in your apartment with all his things gone made that almost chillingly true. You and Ben were nothing more than roommates, and now he’d made that very clear by not telling you that he was moving out and taking another job. Nothing about that was the friendship that you thought the two of you were achieving.

Maybe it's a good thing, because I was beginning to feel things for him that I didn't want to and now he's gone I don't have to worry about it.

The thought didn't make you feel any better. Something inside felt like it was shriveling up and dying, something that you didn't know had grown and bloomed within you the moment Ben moved in.

"I know!" Annie exclaims. "But Hughie told me that while we were gone, Ben stormed into the apartment and confronted Butcher, said that he 'didn't feel appreciated' and that he was 'sick of all the bullshit' and that he was 'fucking done.' Hughie said that Butcher was pissed, but Ben must've gone to talk to Stan because they're officially announcing Ben or rather Soldier Boy's glorious return to Vought as the leader of The Seven."

"Wow the leader that's-" You swallow, voice hollow. "That's good for him."

"More than good. They're throwing him one of those ridiculous over the top parties tonight to celebrate and re-introduce him to the press." Annie takes another sip of her coffee, practically shaking with the excitement over the news. "And holy fucking shit!"

"What?" You breathe. Suddenly the room is spinning and you're not sure that you're getting enough air to your brain. You feel like you've been punched in the gut and at the same time feel like everything inside of you is spilling out.

You couldn't understand any of it, couldn't understand why it felt like Ben had broken up with you or why it felt like your heart was breaking, not over Ben of all people.

Why? I don't love him or like him. He's my friend or… I thought we were becoming friends.

"Stan is literally just falling at his feet. He's been busing in these slutty looking women that all go up to Ben's apartment, and you have no idea what I can sometimes hear through the walls. Those women are so loud."  Annie makes a disgusted face, and you could only imagine what she was hearing.

It was the reason why you hadn't let Ben bring women back to the apartment, because your walls were thin and you didn't want to be subject to hearing his live action porn shoots. You knew the exact kind of person that Ben was when he moved in with you, but the week you'd spent with him before you killed Darren was different. He was kinder, softer, more patient with you, and willing to help you. Not to mention overprotective because he didn't want you to leave the apartment or even lift a finger with your broken arm.

You think about how Ben hadn't been on a date that entire week, that he stayed at the apartment with you and how he didn't act like he saw the woman in the grocery store hitting on him. Your jaw tightens as you fight the urge to cry, not quite comprehending why you were feeling this way.

What did I expect? He's the same way he's always been. And maybe he really was pretending to be different around me so that I'd sleep with him. Ben is Ben he's…

You think about what your grandmother said to you, about Ben acting differently than the one she knew. How Ben cared for you at the apartment and in the hospital was so different than the person she'd been friends with in the 80's. But now you weren't sure.

I don't need him anyway. He was just my roommate and now I have the couch all to myself.

You think, but it doesn’t bring any comfort

Annie's eyes focus back on you. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"No actually I'm not feeling that great all of a sudden." It wasn't a lie, you felt like you were going to throw up with all the memories you had with Ben swirling around your head. You didn't understand why this was happening.

In the past Annie and you would have giggled and laughed about something like this, but you didn’t feel like laughing at all.

"Oh no. Was it the latte? I'll come with you-" She starts to get up, but you hold up one hand while using the other to put Rex into your front pocket again.

"No, it's okay. I've just got a headache, and I don't think I'm ready to be around so many people, after Darren, you know?" It was a lame excuse, but you knew that it was the only thing to say that would make Annie leave you alone. "I think I took it too fast or something."

"Oh. Okay." She looks at you sympathetically. "Well text me when you get home? I want to make sure that you're okay."

"I will. I love you Ann."

"Love you too babe."

You rush from the coffee shop, trying to put as much distance between everything Annie said and you, but it's still all there in your head making it spin.

Why did he just leave without saying anything? Why didn't he tell me that he was being offered a place on The Seven?

You think to yourself, gaze on the sidewalk as you go, following the cracks and the blackened lumps of gum that have been smooshed against the concrete.

And why the fuck do I care so much? It's his life, he can do whatever the fuck he wants to!

The flowers in the black circular bins outside the florist shop wither and die as you pass, spilling multicolored petals at your feet that you trample underfoot.

He never said that he wanted to be friends. It was me that said it at that ridiculous fundraiser. Me that told him countless times that I didn't want to sleep with him.

The trees that are planted sporadically along the sidewalk shed their leaves when you walk underneath.

And I don't want to sleep with him. I want a relationship, I want love, I don't want just a one-night stand with someone like Ben. I deserve more I-

The thoughts were the same ones that you told yourself whenever you felt yourself considering falling into bed with Ben. The ones that usually brought the memory of your parents dancing to "Gonna Sing You My Love Song" by candlelight in the kitchen when they looked at each other like there was no one else in the world. You wanted that kind of love so badly that you could feel it in your bones.

But this time when you think those thoughts, it's not your parents that appear, it's Ben and you sitting on the couch in your living room with him reading the newspaper and you reading a book.

Stop it. Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear that he doesn't want a relationship. And I guess he doesn't want a friendship because he just up and left without telling me!

"Excuse me!" You hear a voice say followed by your name, but you ignore it, and continue down the sidewalk.

The tears were close to falling and you didn't fully understand what it was that you were feeling or why you were so upset about Ben leaving when it meant that you could get your apartment completely to yourself again.

"Excuse me!" The voice says again and this time someone grabs on to your left shoulder yanking you backward.

You'd only seen Ashley once.

The first time Annie invited you to Vought Tower to look at her ridiculous apartment, Ashley had made you sign an NDA before you did. What exactly she thought you’d see you weren’t sure. It wasn’t like you were as oblivious as everyone else to the way the heroes of The Seven acted when the cameras weren’t flashing.

But Ashley looks the same as she did the last time you saw her, thinning red hair, sharp black suit that's buttoned over her chest giving the illusion that she doesn't have anything on underneath, tacky necklaces, crimson lipstick, and just like last time, she's not looking at you. She's typing something furiously on her phone as if she couldn't be bothered to acknowledge your existence with her eyes.

You hated when people did that.

“Hi." Ashley says with false sweetness, drawing it out too long to be natural. "Can you get in the car please?” She asks, still not looking up from the phone in front of her and gesturing with her head towards a gigantic black SUV that idles on the curb. It's easily bigger than your grandmother's truck and has windows so dark you can't see into the backseat.

Probably something Vought gets custom done to hide what goes on with their fucking heroes.

“Why?” You ask.

Did she hear Annie tell me about Ben? Wow, she works fast, I’ll give her that.

Your gaze shifts to where your building is just a few steps down the sidewalk. You were thinking about ignoring her, and continuing to walk down the street, but a part of you was intrigued.

“I don’t have time for this, get in the car.” This time Ashley looks up from the phone with a forced smile.

It's the forced smile that makes you decide to keep walking. You were tired of people trying to manipulate you with false sweetness to get what they wanted.

“I heard you the first time. No.” You reply before turning to walk down the sidewalk.

She moves so fast that you'd think she was A-train, putting herself directly in your way.

Ashley lowers her voice to a whisper. You didn't know why she was doing that. "Look, if you don't get in the car it's my ass. And I'm not going to be fired because one of Soldier Boy's sluts is acting like a little bitch and refuses to get in the car."

One of Soldier Boy's sults? Soldier Boy’s SLUT?!

"I don't know where you're getting your information, but I am not one of his sluts." You spit.

"Well, the only people I've been picking up for him all damn week have been." Her mouth twitches up into a smirk. "So, the options are you either get in the fucking car or Javier is going to put you in the car." She gestures to the behemoth of a man sitting in the driver's seat of the SUV, who smirks at you.

"Oh, is he?"

"Yes."

All the emotions that you'd been feeling about Ben begin to reach a peak in your chest and something finally snaps. You didn't want to deal with any of this, all you wanted was to go home to your bed, and yet here Ashley was treating you like you were some weak-willed little girl who would do everything you were told. It's the same thing that Darren used to do with you, and like hell you were going to let anyone do that to you again.

"I’d love to see him try." Your eyes shift to bright green and the entire world begins to tremble. You could feel the trees that lined the streets turning to watch, the roots that pushed and tangled through new earth stirred beneath the streets and sidewalks, the flowers in the florist shop two doors down that had wilted and lost petals twist together and burst with new life before spilling out onto the sidewalks, and Rex who was sleeping soundlessly in the front pocket of your favorite overalls drops to the ground at your feet, snarling as he grows to the size of a microwave.

"Holy fuck!" Ashley shrieks and takes a step back from Rex who snaps his jaws at her feet. His pointed stick-like teeth now the length of a pencil, clicking together.

"You should be more careful who you threaten." You say, your voice lowering. The energy of nature around you was thrumming through your veins, electrified by your anger. "It might be the last thing you do."

Just as Rex takes another step towards Ashley, who is quickly running out of sidewalk, the backseat window rolls down, and you see Ben sitting there with an annoyed expression.

"Just get in the fucking car Petals." He says with a sigh.

Has he really been back there the whole time?

"Are you shitting me Ben?  You’ve been in the backseat this whole time? Why didn’t you get out to ask me to get into the car yourself?" You shout, eyes still a bright green.

I guess that's why she was whispering, didn’t want Ben to hear her call me one of his "sluts."

The thought made a surprising wave of anger and frustration crash over you when you remembered what Annie had said about Vought busing in women for Ben. You didn’t understand why you were upset; you knew the kind of person he was, knew that was what he went on dates to do, but for some reason the thought of him having a non-stop orgy at Vought tower after he had taken care of you and acted like a completely different person made you livid. It made you think again that he had just been putting on a big show to trick you into sleeping with him.

"That’s what that bitch is for!" He gestures to Ashley who is practically cowering against the car while Rex snarls between the two of you, now the size of a post office box.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "I can’t do this with you. I’m going inside."

“Wait.”

“I don’t want to wait Ben.” You reach down and scoop up Rex who shrinks in your arms back to the size of the coke can before he hisses at Ashley one last time. She looked like she was going to faint, but you didn't feel guilty.

"Are you really going to make me get out of the fucking car? Ben shouts above the sound of traffic.

Honestly, you really didn't feel like talking to him, not when you weren't sure why you were upset with him.

All he did was move on with his life. Why do I care so much about that? He was going to move out eventually and I didn't want him to live with me anyway. He was crashing on my couch; it wasn't a permanent situation and-

The thought of your couch makes an odd feeling rise in your chest for a second as the memory of him and you picking it out at IKEA come floating back. Despite how much Ben annoyed you, you’d had fun with him at IKEA trying out the different couches and getting coffee. It always surprised you how you could enjoy spending time with him, even when he annoyed you without end. But you had enjoyed yourself. Just as you'd enjoyed yourself when the two of you watched tv on the couch and when he walked with you to the shop and picked you up at the end of the day.

“You don’t have to get out of the car. I’m going inside.” You turn and walk away from where the SUV is idling on the curb, weaving through the foot traffic.

I don't want to talk to him. I just want to go into my apartment and forget everything Annie told me and forget that Ben doesn't live with me anymore.

“For fucks sake.” You hear Ben grumble under his breath when you turn away, but you don't stop walking. "Petals!"

You can see the glass double doors and brick steps that lead up into your apartment building up ahead, but even with how fast you're walking Ben catches you easily.

"Wait." Ben moves to block your path just as Ashley had.

He looks different than the last time you saw him standing in the street asking you to let him make sure you were okay and asking you to let him take you home. And if you were acknowledging it, Ben looked better than you remembered.

He's still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt combo, except now you can see that they're made of nicer material, designer, and he's wearing a large golden Rolex on his left hand that you're sure someone at Vought bought for him. Ben's dark hair isn't falling into his face, it's a little shorter, more controlled. You liked it better the other way, but you weren't going to admit that to yourself.

Even his beard is trimmed, and you wonder if Ashley got him a stylist and a hair/makeup team to spruce him up before his big debut.

Oh yeah. The debut he's making after he moved out of our apartment and didn't tell me, and after he's been fucking whatever comes across his path all week.

The thought makes your jaw clench together.

That's the way Ben is! He's been going through women since he got back from Russia. That's not new!

You thought it to make yourself feel better, but you can still feel the tightening in your chest that you'd been feeling since Annie told you the "big news" and you realized that Ben moved out.

Then why does it kind of hurt?

"What?" You sigh.

"I want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Can you get in the fucking car first?"

"No. I don't want to get in the fucking car, nor do I know why I need to get in the car!"

"Because I want to talk to you!"

"And we can't do that here?"

"No!"

You cross your arms over your chest and refuse to budge. You knew that it would only annoy Ben that you were being stubborn, his stubbornness also drove you to the point of insanity as did his taunts, so the two of you were at a stalemate and you refused to give in.

"Fine." He seethes. "I'm joining The Seven."

“I heard. Congratulations. You’re getting everything you want." You clip.

“Just about.” He mumbles under his breath so low that you don’t think you heard him right.

"I don't see why that involves me."

"If you'd shut up and fucking listen to me for a minute I'll tell you!" He snaps.

"Don't tell me to shut up Ben! Who fucking disappears without so much as a note? Who up and leaves without telling their frie-," You clear your throat to change the word. "Their roommate that they're moving out!?"

"You didn’t want me to live with you!”

"Maybe at the beginning but-" Your cheeks redden for a second and something flashes through his eyes that you've never seen. "I mean, it's not that bad. And after everything I thought that you'd still be here when I got back."

"Well if I recall, you left without telling me where the fuck you were going and didn't pick up my damn phone call!"

"I called you back! And I texted you! It's not like I was completely radio silent!" You stamp your foot in frustration. "And why are you going back to Vought? They got your team to stab you in the back and took your genetic material to make a psychotic freak!"

"Because Stan Edgar called me and he said he wanted me to be the new leader of The Seven!"

"Oh please, you believe that guy? He only looks out for himself. If you trust him again, he's gonna give you another one-way ticket back to Russia."

"He's not going to fucking-"

"Yes he is! And if you thought things through instead of jumping in feet first, maybe you wouldn’t land into a pile of shit! Now if you'll excuse me. I have to do some laundry, but whoopdie fucking do! It seems like all your dreams are coming true." You try to step around him, but Ben shifts his body to block you.

"Just fucking listen to me." He snaps, green eyes flashing in the sunlight.

"What? What do you have to tell me that's so important you had that red-headed bitch try to shove me in an SUV for?"

"They're throwing me a damn party tonight and I want you to come with me." Ben shouts back at you, eyes blazing in anger.

Your mouth drops open. It was the last thing that you were expecting him to say. If anything, you thought that he was going to try to get you to come with him to Vought to make a pass at you, not invite you to probably one of the most exclusive events of the entire year.

"What?"

Ben still looks angry but uncrosses his arms from his chest. "I want you to come with me to the party."

You clear your throat to dissipate the shock, your anger coming back. "Why me? Why not any of those other women that Stan's been bringing to the tower for you?" You snap. “They certainly seem to be more your type. Probably look a lot more impressive than I do on your arm."

You hadn't seen them, but you could only imagine what they all looked like. Ben's matches on tinder he often bragged about and had shown you photos as if he needed to prove how attractive they were to someone else. Of course, then you'd told him to just stuff it in a tube sock like everyone else rather than risk the venereal disease.

"What did I tell you about saying shit like that about yourself in front of me?" He looks angry again.

You think back to the day the two of you shopped for a couch at IKEA and Ben had yelled at you for making a self-deprecating joke about being "useless."

An odd look crosses Ben's face for a split second when he realizes what he said, before he smirks to hide it. "Are you jealous Petals?"

"No."

"Because you're acting like you are." He smirks wider. "Kinda sounds like you've been having Annie spy on me for you."

"I didn’t have her spy on you! She can hear everything that you're doing, and she told me because we got coffee today and she wanted to tell me your oh so wonderful news. That you’re the leader of the Seven and that means you have an endless parade of women willing to fuck you.”

"All women are willing to fuck me Petals."

"Not me."

Something flashes through his eyes that you can't place.

You chew on the inside of your cheek for a minute, before you sigh. "Ben, I don't think that I should-"

"I want you to come with me because none of them are supes and I want you to understand what being a supe is supposed to look like." He interrupts, but it doesn't sound convincing enough.

"I don't think any of that is real or how it's supposed to be!"

"How would you know anything about it? This is the Seven. The most powerful supe team in the world-"

"Just because it's the most popular doesn't mean that it's the most powerful. And I'm not sure I want to be a part of this. My grandmother told me what it was like for her and-"

"But you've never experienced it!"

"Well, no."

"Exactly. So just come with me tonight."

"I don't know Ben. I'm not sure that I'm up for being around that many people after everything, you know? I-" You swallow. All the feelings of frustration, confusion, and anger were slowly dissipating, and it was leaving behind something you didn't want to think about. "I stayed in Illinois because I needed a few days to get away from all of this and I don’t think that I can rush into it all over again the day I get back." You could feel the memories of the day you killed Darren beginning to come surging back, followed by the realization of how out of control your powers could get.

Not to mention that standing here and looking at Ben was making the tightness in your chest worse.

Then Ben does something he never has, he reaches out and takes your hand. “Come on Petals, just one night.”

He was saying Petals in the soft way he had two weeks ago when he had been taking care of you after the hospital, and it made warmth pool in the pit of your stomach.

"But-"

"And I won't leave you alone at the party with any of those boring fucks. Or with that octopus fucker.” He interrupts, trying to convince you.

"One night?"

"Yes."

Your eyes drop to where he's holding your hand gently between the two of you. It was odd for him, especially because he'd never done that before, even when you had nightmares, Ben never held your hand like this. It was always an awkward cradle, but for him to fully entwine his fingertips with yours it between the two of you was shocking. You raise your gaze to his unblinking green eyes. "Do you promise?" You whisper.

"Yes. I promise, one night and if you hate it, I'll take you back to your shitty apartment building." Ben smiles as if it's a joke, but it stings a little bit.

It was the first time that Ben had ever referred to the apartment as just "yours." You'd gotten so accustomed to him calling it "our apartment" and to hear it that way made your chest tighten more. Maybe it was because it was settling in that Ben wasn't coming back, that he wasn't going to move back in or be a part of your life anymore.

"Okay. One night." You nod and let Ben lead you back to the car holding on to your hand.

Why is he doing this if he's been fucking his way through New York's female population this week? Why does he care so much that I be the one to go with him to this ridiculous party? Any one of those women would be ecstatic to go. And why is he holding my hand?

"Talk to her like that again and I’ll make sure that the next job you have is cleaning Stan Edgar’s fucking balls.” He growls to Ashley as he opens the door of the SUV for you.

And as you slide into the plush leather seats in the backseat, you begin to wonder exactly why Ben was so adamant about you "experiencing" what it was like to be a supe.

"So, what do you think?" Ben's voice echoes through the large living room/sitting room, vibrating against the floor to ceiling glass walls that stand at the back of the room and give a spectacular view of New York City that lays below Vought Tower.

From up here the rest of the world looks so small and out of focus, and you wonder if that's why so many supes lose their morals, because they're worshiped and put in places like this to look down on the people below.

Treat them like gods and that's what they'll think they are.

Annie's apartment at the tower was impressive, but Ben's is practically another planet. The entire place is filled with mid-century modern furniture, supple leather couches so soft it feels like you're sliding through butter, beautifully crafted wooden credenzas, and modern art pieces that you'd only ever seen prints of online.

The high lofted ceilings are so tall that you're sure the first three floors of your apartment building could fit inside, and there's an odd echo that follows everything Ben and you say. There is a tv so large it might as well be a billboard that sits on top of a wooden credenza and holds a speaker system that must be more expensive that a yearly car payment.  It looks so intricate that you're afraid to touch it, let alone breathe next to it. The entire room screams wealth and not one piece of it is homey. It feels like a museum, as if someone tried to create something that felt like a home, but it turned into a time capsule of a time everyone else forgot.

You wondered if Ben ever felt that way and that way why he was really joining The Seven. If it wasn't just because Stan Edgar called, but because Ben felt like the world had forgotten who he was and he needed to prove it to everyone.

If that were true, you didn’t like that he thought that way. Yes, Ben annoyed you, but you liked who he was when he was with you. He never seemed like an old fossil that someone decided to shove into a box at the back of the Smithsonian, you liked the way he was, didn't think that he needed to prove himself to anyone.

Ben is standing behind you, leaning against one of the dark wood walls with a smile. You didn't know why he cared so much about your opinion of where he lived, not if you were just coming here for the party and then going back home to your apartment.

Your mind stutters on the word "home," because it hadn't felt like home when you got there, and Ben wasn't there. You didn’t want to admit that to yourself, but you knew it was true.

"It’s big." You say half-heartedly.

The apartment only made you think that Ben wasn't going to be living with you, a concept that you were confused as to why you were still saddened by, especially now that he'd had ample time to say goodbye. Before you’d been angry that he’d left without a note, but now you felt like you should be okay with what was happening.

You weren’t.

"Mhmm. Like it should be. Oh, you should have seen the good old days Petals. All the apartments, the hotel rooms, the houses they rented for us were like this. Not to mention everyone doing whatever the fuck you asked without hesitation, bringing me exactly what I wanted without argument. Fuck it takes me back." Ben sighs at the memory. "That’s how it’s supposed to be when you’re a supe. Not all of this squatting in small apartments and taking 500 jobs because you can't make enough money."

"I kind of like my 500 jobs." You say. "I've learned how to do a lot of things, and most of them are kind of fun-"

"Come on Petals." Ben rolls off the wall to get closer to you. "You're a bad liar and you know it."

"Fine. I don't like all of them, but I really like  working at the senior center and at the plant shop-“

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you're reminded of exactly why you're not working in the shop anymore and everything that happened with Darren. You hadn't called Jake yet or texted him. Again, you didn’t know what to say.

Honestly, you didn't even know if he was alive and the thought that you'd killed your friend hurt you.

"He's okay." Ben murmurs quietly anticipating what you’re thinking. "Saw someone helping him from the rubble before I got out of there."

"Good. I was worried that I-." You let out a breath and shake your head feeling relief stir in the pit of your stomach. “I didn’t mean to lost control like that and I-“

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. That asshole deserved it.” You can hear the anger begin to drip into Ben’s voice.

“I know.” You look around the room again at the fancy furniture and high ceilings to distract yourself. "This apartment is definitely big enough to manspread in. But it seems kind of empty though for one person."

"What?"

"I just mean- all this space.” You gesture to the vaulted ceilings. “What person needs this much space? At least in my one bedroom it’s a bit cozier.”

“You don’t like it?” For a second you think that he looks disappointed, but you think you imagined it.

“Nope. Not really my style.”  You walk through the large living room exploring the apartment with Ben following behind you.

And you miss the way his shoulders slump just a little and the frown that pulls at the end of his mouth.

The bedroom is bigger than your whole apartment, with a giant four poster bed made of dark wood swaddled in gold and black bedding. The floors are made of black marble and there’s a giant fireplace that is so wide that a city bus could drive through no problem. The view out the floor to ceiling windows is even more breathtaking than the one in the living room.

“What no bearskin rug?” You snort at your joke, but for some reason it doesn’t make you smile.

All you're aware of is how weird this is, that Ben wanted you to come here and show you the way you "should" be living as a supe, and weirder still it was almost as if he wanted you to like his apartment.

Since when does Ben care what I think?

“Do you want a bearskin rug?” Ben asks, not sensing your sarcasm. "Because I can tell that bitch to bring one in here."

“No I was just-“ You sigh, but stop talking when you notice something green on the bedside table.

There’s a small pothos plant sitting there, it’s vines dangling over the sides of the table towards the floor a shock of green in an otherwise black and gold room. Ben didn’t like plants as much as you did. You knew that.

“Why do you have a plant?”

“It’s-“ He pauses as if embarrassed. “For you.”

“But you didn’t know I was coming?” You look over your shoulder. “And I told you that I was only staying one night.”

“I know.” Ben shrugs. “I got it earlier just in case.”

“In case?”

“You decided that you wanted to be a part of The Seven, or I don’t fucking know, just live here at Vought Tower.” He sounds angry, but you don't let it get to you.

“Well if I wanted to be a part of The Seven wouldn’t I get my own apartment? And if I stayed here, where would I sleep Ben? There’s only one bed.”

He bought me a plant? Did he think that I was going to sleep in here with him? Did he think that I was going to sleep with him?

“I mean we’ve shared before and you didn’t seem opposed to it.” He smirks, but when he notices that you don’t smile, he frowns. “I can sleep on the couch. It’s almost as comfy as the one we picked out.”

“Oh.”

“And actually if you want I can have them bring that one here too-“

The thought of the couch the two of you had fitting in with any of these outrageous displays of wealth was laughable, but again it confused you, because Ben was acting like he wanted you to move out of your apartment and into this one with him. Which, given how you heard he spent his week seemed ridiculous.

This is so weird. I have no idea what’s going on.

"So, um-" Ben clears his throat awkwardly. "How are you?"

"What?" You turn around to look away from the bedroom that looks a little bit like it belongs in a supervillain's penthouse apartment.

"Well, I mean-" He clears his throat again. Ben looks like it's difficult for him to say what he's about to, as if it's difficult for him to carry on a normal conversation. "Diana said that you were having a hard time."

"You talked to my grandmother?"

"Once. Before Stan called."

"Oh." You bite your lip. "I mean finding out that my brother killed my parents and tried to kill me wasn't exactly a walk in the park. But-" You shrug. "I'm dealing with it."

Ben nods as if he's unsure what to say. You noticed that when conversations got a little too personal Ben looked out of his element and you supposed that was what was happening right now. Sometimes it made you feel bad for him, as if he didn’t know how to act in a normal situation.

"Do I look different to you?" You blurt to clear out some of the awkward tension.

"What?"

"I mean, do I look younger? I thought that I was imagining things, but Annie pointed it out and I-"

"A little." He swallows.

"Great." You sigh.

"You don't want to look young?" Ben chuckles to himself. "Petals I swear every time you open that perfect mouth of yours you say the most outrageous shit I've ever heard."

"No, I mean I-" You wave your hand as if looking for the right words. "I guess I can make myself younger, but I don't think that I want to."

"Why not?"

"I mean if you live forever or longer than the average person you see everyone you love die. That doesn't exactly seem healthy."

"Not if the people you love don't die either." Ben says it quietly, almost to himself.

You snort. “My grandmother doesn’t live extra years, neither does Annie.” You hesitate to think of something that you never asked Ben. “Did you ever think about that?”

“Think about what?"

“When you and Countess were together. Didn’t you ever think about what would happen when she aged and you were well, you?”

Ben hesitates as if considering something. “Not really.”

“Why not?"

"You're full of questions today, Petals."

"And you're full of cryptic answers." You reply. "Come on Ben, you didn't think about that? I think that if I was with someone who didn't age that I would-"

"Someone like Jake you mean." Ben is frowning again, just as he always does whenever you bring him up.

"Why are you always so focused on him?"

"I'm not. Why are you so focused on Countess?"

"Stop answering my questions with a question!"

"I'm not!"

"You don't really have to worry about Jake. I think I blew my chances with him the minute that I destroyed his plant shop." You frown, reaching to touch the pothos plant that sits on the bedside table to get it to perk up.

Ben stands there for a minute watching you. "He's a fucking idiot if he lets that stand in the way of being with you."

Shock hits you like a bolt of lightning, and you turn to look at Ben, who suddenly looks very uncomfortable, as if he didn't mean to say that.

"Thanks."

He shrugs.

"And I think Countess was a fucking idiot and a Bitch for stabbing you in the back and making you love her."

"Thanks."

You shrug.

The odd silence is back, floating in the air between the two of you, something that you've never noticed before. You're not sure where it came from or what it's supposed to represent, but you wonder if Ben can feel it too.

“I-um- I’m sorry that I didn’t pick up the phone when you called. I didn’t know what to say.” You begin quietly. You wanted him to know that you had thought about picking it up, that you did want to talk to him.

“You don’t have to apologize for that Petals.”

“No I want to. And I’m sorry that I left you in the street like that. I should have stayed. I wanted-“ You stop talking, considering what you’re about to admit. “I wanted to stay with you.”

It seemed stupid to admit that out loud especially after you’d heard from Annie exactly what Ben had been doing all week, but you were so confused. You didn’t understand what you were feeling, didn’t understand why Ben asked you to come here, didn’t understand why he bought you a plant if you were only staying here for the party, and didn’t understand why you were so upset at the thought of going back home to your empty apartment.

Ben was confusing you again. He was being sweet and asking you how you were and he held your hand and he was genuinely asking you what you thought about the apartment and he bought you a plant to make you feel more at home. Not to mention he was acting as if the past week hadn’t happened, and it was still just the two of you back in your apartment.

And you could feel a cold chill of fear squishing your stomach into mush. You didn’t know what the fear was. Maybe it was because you were slowly realizing just how much you wanted Ben to be the man that he embraced when it was only the two of you. Maybe it was because you were realizing how much you liked being around him. Maybe it was because you were still cursing yourself because you didn’t want to fall for the wrong man. Or maybe it was because when Ben did things like this it was difficult for you to think that he was the wrong man.

He doesn’t want a relationship.

The thought doesn’t hold as much weight as it once did.

Ben’s hand gently touches the small of your back, turning you to look at him and making the thoughts evaporate. His green eyes search your face before he responds. “I wanted to come see you, but I thought you’d want to be left alone.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t want me to touch you in the street or check if you were okay and I wasn’t sure that I should-“ He clenches his jaw as if it’s difficult for him to admit this. “I didn’t think you wanted me there.”

“I did.” You whisper before you can stop yourself and his eyes widen in surprise. “Annie came to see me, but I wanted you. I-“

Ben gently traces your cheek with his rough fingertips, something warming in his gaze. The air between you is charging with electricity and you see his eyes dip to look at your mouth, before raising to your eyes once more. You know what he's silently asking you, and you want him to kiss you.

The memory of the two of you pressed against one another on your couch after the night Darren stayed in your apartment surfaces, the ghost of how it felt to be pressed against his body with your hands planted against the warm ridges of his muscles. You inhale a soft breath and it's full of Ben, enticing you forward, begging you to close the distance between the two of you.

Ben's thumb falls to the pillow of your lips, and they part in anticipation. Your body subconsciously moving closer to him so that your hands are resting against the soft fabric of his dark t-shirt. You can feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric soaking into the palms of your hands, a comfort in the chill of the marble covered room.

"I should have been there." He whispers. "But I-" Ben swallows, his voice no more than a murmur over the dull buzz of electricity that runs through the apartment.

The afternoon sun that shines through the glass windows behind you illuminates the flecks of gold in his eyes, making them a piercing green, and giving the illusion that they can see through you. Sometimes you thought that Ben noticed more about you than he was letting on, just as you noticed things about him that you were sure he tried to hide.

"It's okay." You murmur, leaning towards him, and letting your hands slowly move up the expanse of his chest.

“Sorry to interrupt.” A calm voice says from behind where Ben and you are standing.

The man standing in the doorway you'd, never seen in person, only on TV, but Stan Edgar is just as intimidating as he looks on the news. He's wearing a black pinstriped suit, a light blue shirt and a black tie. Not a piece of his outfit is out of shape. He looks calm and collected, not the frazzled out of control chaos that is Ashley when interacting with Ben.

And you hated him.

This was the man that had told Ben's team to stab him in the back and gave him to the Russians, and the man who gave Vogelbaum the okay to take Ben's genetic material and create Homelander. If Ben hadn't accepted the job with Stan, you probably would have ripped him to shreds.

Rex turns back from looking out the window and begins to skulk towards where Stan is, his beady black eyes narrowed up at the man. Stan looks down at the creature, who is about the size of a toaster now, in distaste.

“You don’t fucking knock?” Ben spits, turning around to face him, your hands falling from his chest.

“I did. I also called but you didn’t pick up your phone.” Stan says, undisturbed by Ben’s obvious anger. “Is she the new one that you made Ashley pick up?”

The new one?

His words settle in the pit of your stomach like an anchor making you remember exactly how Ben had spent his first week here at Vought. It made whatever the hell you'd just been feeling dissipate.

“Ashley was right, she certainly seems different than the others you’ve brought here. At least she’s wearing more clothes-“ Stan purses his lips looking you up and down. “Are you sure that you want her with you tonight? It is a big debut and-“

Stan was talking as if you weren’t there, as if what he was saying wasn’t insulting.

“What the fuck do you want?” Ben interrupts in a growl.

“We need to talk about how tonight is going to go. Not to mention Ashley has been waiting outside the door trying to muscle up the courage to knock so she can dress your date.”

“I can dress myself.” You say.

“Not for this.” Stan presses his lips together in a tight line, again looking you up and down as if you're a stain on his perfect suit.

Ben’s anger burns hot in the air, and you’re not sure if it’s because Stan interrupted the two of you or if it’s because he insulted you or if it’s because Stan just reminded you that you’re not special to Ben.

Because I’m not. No one who goes through women like that cares about them. What was I thinking? Ben’s probably using all of this in his grand plan of trying to sleep with me.

“Fine. Give me a minute and I’ll meet you outside.” Ben replies through gritted teeth..

“Don’t keep me waiting.” Stan gives you one more disappointed glance before he walks out the bedroom door.

Ben sighs as he turns back to you. “I-“

“It’s okay just go.” You take a step back from him. It was easier to clear your head when you couldn’t smell his shampoo or feel how wonderfully warm he is. “I’ll see you tonight. I guess.”

Ben hesitates as if there’s something he wants to say, but finally he sighs. “I’ll come pick you up. I think they're gonna fucking dress me somewhere else”

“Okay.” You nod once.

And as he walks out another uncomfortable thought begins to squeeze at your insides

What if this is Ben’s big move? Showing a woman a fancy apartment with a sprawling view of the city while inviting them to an exclusive party and acting like a completely different person, just to finally get me to sleep with him?

The flashing of the cameras and loud voices of the reporters shouting question after question made you dizzy. The brilliant lights blinding you as flash after flash barraged your senses from all sides. The lights were uncomfortably warm and the cameras that pointed at you made you feel like you were under a microscope.

It had taken an entire make up team and the four hours before the event to make sure that you were ready, with Ashley barking orders over the mad scramble of hands that touched every part of your body with no sense of shame. They had forced you to take a shower, and scrubbed your body so hard that you were sure there were skin cells missing, before yanking you out from under the warm water to dry you and tug and pull your hair in all different directions, trying to figure out exactly how you should have it done.

Whenever you tried to protest, someone would tell you how "fucking hot" you looked or how "sexy" you were. It didn’t make you feel any better and all you could think about was you hoped Ben was being subjected to such torture in another room of the Tower somewhere.

The team had rubbed you in creams from plastic containers and shiny body scrub so that you glittered under the lights and then slathered your face with more make up than you'd ever worn in your entire life. You felt like a doll being abused by a four-year-old who got her hands on a new make-up kit on Christmas morning.

When you'd finally thought it was over, Ashley had brought over a velvet box that held a diamond and emerald pendant that was bigger than the size of your thumb and made you feel sick to your stomach to think about how many groceries you could buy with the money it cost.  When she tried to put it on you, you'd waved your hand and said that you didn't want it, but then she'd said that "Soldier Boy bought it especially for you and she'd be damned if she got killed over a fucking necklace." The drop emerald and diamond earrings that matched could have easily bought your grandmother's house in Illinois, but Ashley again refused to listen to your protests.

You didn't know why he'd bought you something so extravagant, especially if you were only going to be there for one night. The memory of what Stan called you followed the entire dressing process: “the new one.”

All it did was remind you that Ben didn’t want a relationship, and it was stupid to consider anything else despite how gentle he had been acting moments before Stan showed up.

The dress that Ashley had shoved you into was the same dark green of Ben’s supe suit, but made of a shimmery fabric that caught in the light. It was surprisingly close to the same style of the red one you wore to infiltrate the fundraiser weeks ago.

It hugged your body, clinging to the natural dips and curves, accentuating them and leaving nothing to the imagination.  It was completely backless, held together by thin criss-crossing dark green fabric straps across the back that were so fragile you thought that any moment they would break. The front of the dress was plain and strapless, arching over the top of your breasts and cinched at the waist so tight you’re not sure how you’re breathing.

And it wasn't you, none of it was. The dress, the expensive jewelry, the party- it made you feel like you were five years old again and playing dress up with Annie in your grandmother's attic.

In the past whenever Annie did your makeup for you, at least she made you look like you, but after one look in the mirror, you didn't see you.

You wondered if this was what Ben wanted women to look like, so far from how they naturally looked, almost as if they were a shadow of themselves and plastered to be a perfect version of what an "ideal woman" should be.

But there was one piece of this outfit that seemed like you. There was a gardenia corsage on your right wrist, something that Ben had given you when you met up privately before your big entrance on the red carpet.

It had made you smile, something old fashioned he'd thought of and yet he knew you would like it because he knew that you loved gardenias. You were flattered that he'd remembered. He'd looked a little uncomfortable when he gave it to you, the same way that he always looked a little uncomfortable when things got a bit too personal, but he'd grunted out a "you like it?" and you couldn't help but smile up at him and nod, because you did.

And it seemed to tear you apart inside, because you wished you knew why Ben was doing all of this for you, why it was so imperative for you to see what this kind of life was like.

"Soldier Boy, is it true that you were overseas for 40 years?" A reporter screams from the sidelines into a microphone.

"Soldier Boy, who is she? Is she your new girlfriend? What's your name honey?" Another screams at you, but you don't answer.

"Are you a supe?"

"Show us your powers honey!"

It felt like you were on display and your words were caught in the back of your throat. Ben was next to you smiling and waving his hand, the epitome of cool, but you knew that you didn't look it. Your smile felt tight, and you were sure that the make-up plastered on your face was moments away from melting off your face.

His hair was slicked back in a very un-Ben way, his tailored suit was a dark green, so dark that it almost looked black except in the flashes of the camera, and he was wearing a black tie that shimmered whenever he turned.

You didn't think that Ben looked like Ben either, and something tightened around your throat when you looked at him, because all you could think was that this was the Ben he was becoming again to re-emerge into the public, the Ben you'd seen clips of in music videos, pictures, and old movies that donned the Soldier Boy uniform.

A little piece of your heart broke to see him like that, so different than the Ben who had gone to IKEA with you, the Ben who had checked on you when you had a nightmare, and the Ben who had slept in the hospital to make sure that you were okay.

And now that he was coming back to all of this, you thought that it meant you were losing him, and it hurt more than you'd realized.

The spotlights were blazing hot, your stilettoed black sandals were stuck in the red carpet, and you could feel the prickle of anxiety in the center of your chest crackling to life and spreading through the rest of your body. The urge to run was settling on your limbs, your body tenses, preparing to bolt-

Ben's arm comes around your waist and he pulls you against his chest, still smiling at the reporters, his hand now resting on the small of your back, and your hand goes to the front of his suit to steady yourself. He brushes his lips against your ear.

"It's okay Petals, I'm right here." He whispers, but you catch it.

His touch calms you, grounds you to the moment, and for a second the smile you have is genuine when the cameras continue to flash, your heart rate slowing with the warmth of his hand against your back.

"Thank you! That's enough photos." Ben flashes a winning smile and leads you past the paparazzi and into where the party is. He rolls his eyes with a sigh. "Fucking vultures."

You don't answer, instead you look around at all the other elegantly dressed people at the party, supes and non supes, and waiters who weave through the crowds with trays of food. You hadn't eaten anything all day, the only thing you'd had was a few sips of that latte, but you weren’t hungry

You felt so out of your element, so completely out of place, and the way you were dressed made you feel like a fraud. Annie had told you that she sometimes felt that way, but it passed. You knew that it wouldn’t for you.

She was here with Hughie. You'd seen her for a second and she'd looked at you in surprise. You hadn't been able to tell her that you were coming to this thing, because Ashley had confiscated your phone, stating that you didn't have enough of an "online presence" to post anything of worth.

You were living for the moment that Annie found you and you could collapse into her and hug her. Being here was just solidifying the fact that you weren't what Ben wanted, that Ben wanted this life, women, drugs, fame, and all you had was a crappy one-bedroom apartment in a shitty neighborhood.

And all you were was a hopeless romantic searching for something in someone that would never exist.

"Are you okay?" Ben asks you, and you snap back into reality. He's raising an eyebrow at you, looking almost concerned.

You hate that he was doing that, acting like he cared, when all it did was give you the false hope that he would turn into someone different, someone who wanted to have a relationship.

"Yeah, it was just a lot."

Ben clocks your frown and the scrunch between your eyebrows that he knows is you tell for when you lie. You hope that he doesn't point it out. 

"Ben look, I know that you think that all of this is-" You wave a hand. "But it's not me. I'm not this girl I'm not-" Your voice catches for just a second. "The party, this dress, the jewelry I-"

"You don't like the necklace?" Ben frowns.

"I mean it's pretty, but all I can think about is how much it cost. And how expensive the insurance policy must be for it." Ben's lip quirks up in a smile. "I think you're the first person to ever think that when I got them jewelry."

"Exactly Ben. I don't know why you want me here. Stan said you should have brought a date-date, you know like them." You point at the twins hanging on Deep's arm who laugh and jump with whatever he says, both wearing identical dresses that look like they were rigged with fishnet and seaweed.

"I don't give a fuck what Stan Edgar thinks, and I wanted you to come to this with me. Just give it a chance, we've only been here a few minutes." Ben replies, but for a moment you think you see something that looks a little bit like disappointment in his eyes.

You bite your cheek and search his gaze, hoping to catch another glimpse of it, but you don't. "Okay." You relent, nodding your head.  

Ben stands there for another minute surveying the room, watching the couples begin to dance on the dance floor, and others wobbling their way to the bar. He looks a little lost in thought, so you don't interrupt him.

"Wait here. I'll be right back." He squeezes your forearm before he vanishes into the crowd without another word.

"But-" You begin to say, but he'd already gone. You audibly sigh and begin to sway back and forth to the song, something that you're not sure the name of, but the words are melancholic, a man singing about a woman who thinks falling in love with him is madness.

Someone taps you on the shoulder and you expect it to be Annie, but when you turn you see Jake. He's smiling at you, his shaggy blondish brown hair falling forward into his tortoiseshell glasses, and he's wearing a charcoal-colored suit. There's a bandage on the left side of his face hiding a cut you can't see, but you knew what it was from. You'd never seen him in a suit and maybe the old you would have noted how good he looks, but you can't, not when seeing him is a shocking reminder of everything that happened with your brother.

"Jake? What are you doing here?" You sputter.

"My dad is one of Vought's lawyers." He shrugs. "Invited me to this. I think he thought it would cheer me up after well… you know."

"Fuck, Jake I am so sorry for what happened. I really didn't mean to drag you into all of that or-" Before you can finish your sentence, he pulls you into a tight hug.

"You don't have to apologize." Jake says not stopping the hug. "What happened wasn't your fault. Annie told me what happened."

"But I destroyed your shop. And your face! I-"

He pulls back with a wide smile, the same one that he'd had all the years that you'd worked for him. "It's okay. Honestly it could have been a lot worse, but Ben pulled from the wreckage. Guy saved my life. I owe him big."

"He what?" You ask confused. You remember that Ben said he'd seen someone else helping Jake from the rubble.

Why would he lie about that?

"He saved my life." Jake smiles wider. "Not to mention he called today, said that he's going to bankroll me for a whole new shop. For a guy who acts like he hates me, he's sure putting in a lot of money."

"He's going to pay for a new shop?"

"Yep. Good thing too. Thought I was going to have to be a lawyer again."

"You weren't too good at that." You snort.

"Don't remind me." He groans. "So you're a supe. And Ben is Soldier Boy?"

"Yeah, it's a long story."

"I guess I should have known you were a supe. No one can make plants grown that fast." Jake jokes, his glasses catching the lights. "And Ben's intimidating so, that tracks.”

"Guess so."

It was weird to talk to him again. You'd been avoiding it for the better part of a week, but the two of you were falling into the same patterns you had in the past, and it was nice.

But for the first time since you'd started working for Jake, you don't see the appeal of dating him. It was odd. All the qualities in a man that you were looking for was right in front of you and you felt… nothing. Sure Jake was cute in a puppy sort of way but-

"Ben hey." Jake smiles at where Ben appears over your shoulder, back from whatever mysterious location he had been in moments ago.

"Jake." He grunts his name and you can only imagine Ben's frown.

Jake looks back at you. "It was good to see you. We should meet up to talk about where I should put the shop and what I should name it. Ben had this great idea about adding fresh produce and fruit, and maybe doing a farmer's market on the weekend. I know how much you like that sort of thing." Jake looks up at Ben and extends his hand. "Thanks again Ben, you saved my ass, and I think this new shop is going to be great."

Ben takes it. "Don't mention it. Really." His voice lowers like it's a threat. "Don't fucking mention it to anyone."

"Sure." Jake winks at you before he walks away through the crowd in the direction of the bar.

There's an awkward moment of silence as you turn to look at Ben.

"Didn't take you long to find that pussy did it?" Ben's jaw is clenched tight and you notice that he looks a little angry.

"He found me." You find yourself feeling guilty, and maybe you were because you were technically here with Ben, but it wasn't a date. He was just showing you what all of this was like.

"Sure. Bet you were just waiting for me to fucking leave so you could get your hands on the perfect man." Ben shakes his head and begins to turn away.

"Careful there Gramps, someone might think you're jealous." You tease, scooting around him to stand in his way.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I am not fucking jealous of him and-“

Before Ben can finish his sentence, you pull him in for a hug. You know that he was angry for some unknown reason, but you didn't want to be angry with him, not when he saved Jake's life, and not when Ben told Jake to add fresh produce, fruit, and a farmer's market because he'd remembered that it was your dream.

"Thank you Ben." You whisper into his chest, his body tenses in surprise just the way it was the last time you hugged him.

"You're welcome." He's not hugging you back, he's more resting his hands on your waist, and slowly very slowly you feel his right arm begin to raise enough to hold you for just a few precious seconds more against him. It made your heart beat stutter, because it was the closest thing that Ben had ever done to hug you back.

When you pull away your cheeks are flushed bright red, and the gardenia on your wrist now has a second bloom that Ben notices. He touches the delicate petals with a wide understanding smirk, his eyes catching yours.

"Guess you're having a good time now." Ben breathes.

"I might be." You whisper back. "Why didn't you tell me that you saved him?"

"Who?"

"Jake."

Ben frowns at the mention of Jake's name, his fingertips still tracing the petals where they barely kiss your skin. "It didn't matter."

"You saved his life. It does."

"I didn't want you to think that I did it because I gave a shit about him."

"What?"

Ben's frown deepens. "I'm not a good person Petals, I don't give a shit about him."

"Then why did you save him?"

He doesn't answer.

"Ben." You say softly, touching the front of his suit and he widens his eyes at your boldness. "Talk to me."

"I saved him because I didn't want you to find out that you killed him. I knew that you were going through a lot and I know you think that he's so fucking perfect and he's the man you love or whatever." Ben says it bitterly and it was the first time you think that you'd ever heard him sound that way.

"I don't love him."

"You will." Ben grits his teeth. "Because he's everything you want."

"Is that why you're giving him money for the plant shop? Because you think that I-"

"No, I did that because I know how much you love that fucking place and how much you hate all of this and being here with me and-"

"I don’t hate being here with you Ben." You admit before you can stop yourself. "I mean all of this isn't my favorite, but… you're my friend."

It hurt you a bit to say friend, but you didn’t want Ben to think that you hated him, not after he had saved Jake because he knew that it would have crushed you if you'd killed him, and not when he told Jake to add produce, fruits, and a weekend farmer's market just for you.

Ben stands there for a minute, the cameras flashing in the corner of your eye, and the longer you stand there, you're suddenly aware that "Gonna Sing You My Love Song" By ABBA was playing in the background, an odd choice for a party like this.

You look up at him in confusion, and Ben is smiling sheepishly, before you realize that was why Ben walked away before Jake showed up, to tell them to play it for you. Ben's hand lands against the small of your back and he begins to lead you towards the dance floor.

"What where are we going?"

"We're going to dance."

"Oh no. Ben I don't know how to dance and-"

"Just follow my lead Petals." He pulls you against him, putting your left hand on his right shoulder while his right hand finds the small of your back and his left hand catches your right.

You know that you must look ridiculous as you try to wobble along following Ben's lead.

"It's okay Petals, it's just us." Ben whispers with a smile, pulling you just a little tighter against him as the two of you begin to sway to the music.

And the longer you sway to the music, the more comfortable you feel being there with Ben. The warmth of his hand warming your body, his green eyes only focused on you, and the soft smile on his lips so unlike the Ben you saw smiling for the cameras a few minutes ago.

"Ben?"

"Hmm?"

"Why is it so important to you that I experience all of this?"

"Because everything you know about supes is from Billy Fucking Butcher. It's not always the way he says."

"But that doesn't really answer my question. Why is it important to you?"

Ben doesn't answer for a few seconds, measuring what he says. "Because I want you to like it."

"Why?"

“Because-“

And this time, instead of finishing his sentence, Ben leans forward and kisses you. His lips move with a softness that you never knew that he possessed, the hand he had on the small of your back holding you tighter against him, as your body molds into his.

This kiss is different than the one that the two of you shared outside of your apartment the first night he stayed with you, it’s filled with something unspoken that makes the weight in your chest lighten, that makes you feel as if you're floating above the dance-floor, but then something clamps down tight on your ankle and drags you back down to earth.

The song continues to play, the soft notes and words bringing back the memory of your parents dancing in a darkened kitchen lit only by candlelight, with your father looking at your mother as if she was his whole world. Their love and your grandparent's love had infused your childhood with something magical, a romance that seemed to transcend time and space, you knew how much you wanted it.

And standing here with Ben kissing you only reminded you that he didn't want that, that he didn't want a relationship, that all he wanted was to sweep you off your feet and make you his for only one night when you wanted a lifetime.

You suddenly heard Stan Edgar's words ringing in your ears when he called you the "new one." Just another in a sea of women who threw themselves at Ben for this exact reason, for his suave attitude, extravagant gifts, and lavish parties where he brought them to cling to his arm.

You remember what Annie said about how Ben spent his entire week in the apartment upstairs, how he spent a whole week fucking his way through whatever came his way instead of calling you or texting you back, and how he didn't seem to care that you wanted to reach him.

And it snaps you out of it.

You pull back from Ben's kiss and out of his arms, your head swimming with emotion. The urge to cry comes up in the back of your throat like vomit, but you shove it down.

Ben looks surprised and you figure that he is, because it hadn't worked, you hadn't fallen for it the way the others had.

He says your name for the first time in a long time, but you shake your head and take another step back from him.

"I can't do this Ben." You turn and flee through the crowds, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you stumble on shaky legs towards the elevator.

You can hear Ben saying your name again and then hear Annie, but you ignore them. You can't be here, you can't go back to the prying eyes of the reporters, and you can't look at Ben, not when he was pretending to give you everything you wanted and you could feel your heart breaking.

The doors of the elevator close just as before Ben reaches them, and your eyes lock with his through the thin opening. He looks the way he did the day you left him standing in the street the day you killed Darren. The same look flashes in his eyes, shock, worry, and maybe just a little bit of fear, but you can't look at him anymore.

The numbers on top of the elevator passes in a blur, the tears finally bubbling up and spilling over your cheeks, the make-up that was so meticulously applied smudging, but you don't care.

You want to get out of this dress, get Rex, and go home. Your real home, where Bean is waiting for you, curled up on the couch, where your plants are, where you could crawl into bed under the covers and forget that this entire night ever happened.

But then you remember how cold it felt when you left this morning to get coffee with Annie, when you were aware of how empty it was when Ben wasn't there.

No. Please just let me get through this.

You practically shoot from a cannon when the elevator opens onto Ben's floor.

Rex greets you at the door with a toothy grin, now the size of a Labrador, jumping from where he was curled on the plush leather couch to come say hello.

You scratch him under the chin, your tears still falling and you knew that they wouldn't stop anytime soon. Everything was crashing down on you again, everything you were realizing that you felt about Ben.

You stumble through the large apartment towards the bedroom hoping to find your clothes where Ashley had wadded them into a plastic garbage bag as if she couldn't look at denim overalls without vomiting. 

And as you reach the bedroom door, you hear the door of the apartment open and Ben shout your name.

For a second you think about locking the bedroom door, but you figure that he'll only break it down. Ben’s track record with locked doors wasn't the best and you didn’t want this one to suffer.

You snag the plastic bag from the corner of the room just as he opens the bedroom door.

"Petals, what the fuck is going on? Why did you-" Ben begins to say, shutting the door on Rex who was sitting just outside.

"I can't do this Ben." You interrupt him.

"Do what?"

"Any of this!" You wave your hand around the room for emphasis. "I'm not this girl. And I'm not some bimbo that you can wine and dine and fuck and then throw away."

"What in the actual fuck are you talking about?"

“I can’t do this." You repeat with a sob, tears curling down your cheeks. You couldn't quite look at him, not without feeling like your heart was burning up. "So, whatever fucked up science experiment this is I want out. I can’t be here.”

“I thought we were having a good time? That you were enjoying yourself?” Ben says. "We were dancing and then I-"

“Why? Because you were pretending to be the man that I’ve always wanted, the one that keep telling me you aren’t? By making me fall in love with a version of you that doesn’t exist? So after you get what you want you just leave me?” You spit.

It hurt you to say the words to him, but it was how you felt. You felt like Ben was yanking you around on an emotional chain, trying to manipulate you by doing kind things, by acting like he cared, just so that you'd finally give in to him after saying no to him since the moment the two of you met.

It made you feel stupid to think that there was a part of you that believed he could be the man you fell in love with.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you down there changing tactics to manipulate me!”

“What?” Ben shouts looking utterly confused.

“Manipulate my emotions by playing that song, saving Jake, telling him to open a fucking farmer's market, and holding me like you actually care with the reporters and kissing me the way I want!"

“I wasn’t trying to fucking manipulate you-“

“Don’t try to lie. I know when you’re lying.” You point a finger at him, ripping the gardenia corsage from your wrist and tossing it across the room at him.

It hits him square in the chest and falls to the floor.

“I never fucking lie to you.”

"Oh please." You could feel the anger, frustration, and the feelings you had for Ben that you pushed down coming to a head. "You do. And I refuse to be 'the new one.'"

Ben's eyes widen in realization. "Are you talking about what that piece of shit Stan said when he saw you earlier today?"

"What else?! Annie told me exactly how you spent your glorious and masterful return to Vought. How you had Stan Edgar bus in women for you all week long!" You reach around to remove the necklace and the ears, fearful that you’ll break them in your anger.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING!" You scream so loud you were sure that the words were vibrating against the windows. "It's how I know you're manipulating me! Because if you really did care about me, and care what I like, and want to be the man who I saw downstairs or the man that came to check on me when I was having a nightmare or the man who sat in the hospital for days you wouldn't have been doing that all week. You would have been in Illinois with me!"

"I told you why I wasn't fucking there!" Ben shouts back just as loud.

"Oh sure. Mr. "I didn't think you'd want me there" What a great fucking excuse, just let me swoon!" You snarl back. The tears were falling faster now and showed no signs of stopping.

Ben's teeth grit together and he looks close to exploding, but you see him gain control. "Just shut up for one fucking second and let me explain."

But you're already past all of this. You were so tired emotionally and physically, so out of touch with everything that by now you could feel yourself slipping into insanity.

"No Ben, because you know what?" By now you're so frustrated that you're almost laughing. "Congratulations! Your big plan paid off!"

"What?"

"You've done it! You've won. You finally wore me down Ben. You finally did everything that I wanted, so come on let's do it! Let's fuck! Because who cares about all the fucking romantic pussy shit right?" Your hands scramble against the dress, the delicate material tearing off in your hands easily and leaving you in the lacy black bra and underwear that Ashley had forced you into.  You advance on Ben, throwing away the ruined dress. "This is what you wanted right? Me naked and completely yours? So let's go! No emotions no nothing. Who needs any of that as long as you get laid? You'll get your five to ten minutes, and then you'll throw me away. Just like you throw away all those other women!"

Ben looks at you stunned as if he thinks you've lost your mind and maybe you have. Because you were so sick of this, of all of this, for trying so hard to refuse him, for trying to hold out for someone who you didn’t think you’d ever meet.

"But it's fine. Throw me away! People have manipulated me and thrown me away my whole life, but whatever you want Ben. Because it’s all about you! Oh wait do you want me to call you Soldier Boy? Would that make all of this better for you?"

Ben still hasn't moved and by now you're standing just a few inches away from you, the expression on his face unreadable.

You grip the front of his suit. "Come on. Take off your clothes!"

He says your name in a low tone, but you don’t listen to him.

"Oh what? Were you expecting something different? You want to pretend that you're going to make love to me? You think that’ll help?”

He says your name again.

"Oh you don't want me now? Is that it? Because I'm finally giving you everything you want?" You rip the suit jacket off of him, and reach to grab his shirt, tearing it and sending buttons flying everywhere.

"Petals." Ben growls, his jaw tight.

“No! Come on. You pretended to be everything I want, you deserve a good fuck. Come on!” You tug at what's left of his shirt, losing the fight to the emotions that continue to crash over you, sobs shaking your shoulders. You beat your fists against his chest, and you know that he probably doesn't feel it, but it feels so damn good to hit him to release whatever the hell all of this was.

Ben's hands come up to grip your wrists the best he can to stop you, but by now you can't form words. Uncontrollable sobs are shaking your body, tears blurring your vision, your breath coming in savage gasps that do little to bring oxygen into your lungs. The makeup is smeared over your cheeks and you know that you look like a drowned raccoon by now, but you don’t care.

He whispers your name in a soft tone, in a way that you've never heard him say before, and it only makes you cry harder.

You collapse into his chest, shaking uncontrollably. You couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except cling to the tatters of his dress shirt and sob into his chest.

Ben picks you up, scooping under your knees as if you weight absolutely nothing and places you on his bed, but instead of staying there with you he walks away and it breaks something inside, because all you can think is that you'd finally done it, you'd finally proven to him that you wouldn’t be one of the women who gave in and he really no longer would pretend to care about you.

You grab for one of the pillows, smearing your make-up onto the fabric and clutching it to your chest like a lifeline. You could hear Rex outside the door scratching because he wanted to check in on you, but you can't get up.

The bed dips and when you look up Ben is sitting there with a wash-cloth in his hand.

"What?" You sniffle.

"Close your eyes." He says.

You do as he says, sitting up so he can see you better. The washcloth drags over your cheeks, wiping away the makeup that was smudged and caked over your red cheeks.

“I never really liked makeup. When I was younger all the women used to look natural didn’t wear all this shit on their faces.” He rumbles. "I kind of like that you don't wear it as much."

The pressure of the cloth is surprisingly gentle against your cheeks far gentler than you would have thought possible. He adjusts his left hand to cup your cheeks, and as another tear falls you feel his thumb brush it away. The methodical stroking of the washcloth against your skin is calming your racing heart and Ben is quiet for another few minutes, focusing on his task.

Finally, he withdraws his washcloth and sets it down on the bedside table, next to the pothos. You feel his weight shift away from you.

“Put this on. Because you in my bed in your fucking underwear is really testing my restraint.”

You open your eyes and see that he's holding his dark t-shirt, the one from earlier that he wore when he came to pick you up. You raise your eyes to look at him, trying to gauge what he's feeling, but he's keeping his cards close to his chest.

You slip the shirt over your head and as soon as you do, Ben tucks it under you.

Ben was being more gentle than usual. Gentler than you'd ever seen him be. It was making you dizzy. Because again, he was acting like a completely different person. The person that you wanted him to be, the person that he could be to make you fall in love with him.

He swallows.

“I didn’t bring you to Vought because I thought I could manipulate you into sleeping with me.” Ben pauses to readjust. “I mean the thought crossed my mind, that maybe you would be more open to sleeping with me. I'm not perfect Petals, I'm just a fucking man."

You're clutching the pillow to your chest still, trying to understand what he was saying. His thigh is brushing against yours from where he sits on the edge of the bed.

“And you’re right I do want you. I’ve always wanted you, since the moment I saw you.”

“I know that-“

“Let me fucking finish.” He snaps

You sigh and rub your cheeks with the back of your hand.  The expression on his face is almost pained, frustration shines behind his eyes as if he hates what he's about to admit.

“I’m such a fucking pussy.” Ben shakes his head, saying it more to himself than to you.

What?

“I wanted to have you. And you kept saying no. Which normally I wouldn’t care, I would just move on, but you fucking did something to me. Whenever I was fucking someone else all I thought about was you. You yelling at me, or going off about some stupid shit that I did, when I know that I did it the right way." He huffs. "And it-shit- It made me guilty."

"Guilty?"

"Yes!" He snaps.

"Why?"

"I don't fucking know! It just did!"

Your eyes widen in shock. It was the last thing that you were expecting Ben to say.

"I've never, never cared about anyone other than me. ME. I'm Soldier Boy. I'm not supposed to have any kind of weakness especially not for someone like you." Ben spits the word 'you' like a curse.

"Like me?" You whisper with a sniffle. By now the tears are about to start falling again. You didn’t know what he thought this was, but it just seemed like he was insulting you. "Ben I don't understand what you're saying."

“Yes like you! You’re-“ He gestures to you as if he can’t really find the words. “You’re fucking annoying , you crochet those ridiculous sweaters, you like plants, you get people presents for their birthdays, you sing in the shower, you care about other people-“

“So I act like a person?” You wipe away the tears with the back of your hand.

“No! You-“ He roars in frustration and rises from the bed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

You can see the glow in the center of his chest burning hot as if he's about to explode, but he gets it under control.

“When Diana called me and told me that you wanted me there I-“ Ben's jaw tightens. “I wanted to come, but I hate how much I care about you because I fucking shouldn’t!”

“You hate how much you care about me?”

"I knew that I was in too deep, so when Stan called I jumped at the chance to get out of Butcher's shitty little outfit! I came here and I had him bus in all those women so I could fuck it out of my system, fuck you out of my system but I can't!" His eyes flash around the room with anger and frustration. "Because when I moved out I realized it meant I wouldn’t see you. It meant that I wouldn’t hear you bitch about me doing something wrong, I wouldn’t see your cheeks get fucking red right before you tell me off, I wouldn't smell that damn grapefruit shampoo that follows you around.” By now he almost looks angry, shouting more at himself than at you. "I wouldn't see you sitting on that stupid fucking couch in those sweatpants that drive me crazy while you crochet like a fucking old person. And I wouldn't see the way all the plants in your apartment turn towards you when you walk in or how they all fucking bloom when you smile."

Wait a minute, is he saying that he misses me when I'm gone? That he missed seeing me as much as I missed seeing him when he didn't come to Illinois?

"And I fucking saved that pussy's life because I knew it would destroy you if you found out he died. And I wanted to fund his new plant shop with a damn farmer's market because you said that was your dream and yeah maybe I wanted you to like all of this-" Ben waves his arms around the room. "But I want you to be happy Petals! I fucking hate it when you cry and I hate what happened with your brother and everything that happened with that piece of shit Elijah. I wanted you to have a choice to leave it all, because the shit that Butcher puts you through every damn week isn't for you! I've known that since the day we fucking met."

You felt your chest tighten with his confession, because you suddenly realize that Ben was trying to give you a way out, he was trying to pull you away from Butcher's line of work because he knew it wasn't for you.

It was the conversation the two of you had the first night he stayed with you, when he said that you didn't quite "fit." It was true. You didn't love working for Butcher and you only stuck around to be with Annie, but the fact that Ben cared enough to try and give you an out, something that not even Butcher had done, made you feel like crying all over again. By now he was pacing the room, talking more to himself than to you, almost as if he didn't really want to tell you what he was feeling.

And despite never telling Ben, he figured out that you felt more like you at the plant shop.

"I don't know what you fucking did to me. I've never felt any of this shit before! Even with that bitch Countess this was different! It wasn't like this! I can't sleep without hearing you breathing, I can't eat without knowing that you ate- because you always fucking forget to eat some shit, and I can't survive without seeing you. So are you happy? You've turned me into a pussy. Because yeah I'd still like to fuck your brains out, but now I don't want to do that with anyone else I just want to do it with you." He shouts it pointing a finger at you as if he's accusing you of being a witch. 

He is in love with me. Soldier Boy is in love with me. BEN IS IN LOVE WITH ME.

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks to the chest, that even though Ben tried to distance himself from you, he had fallen, he had done the one thing that he swore than he never was going to.

"Ben-" You start to say in a whisper, but he keeps going.

"So no at the party I wasn't trying to manipulate you. I held you close in the photos because I knew you were scared. That’s why I made the cunts stop taking pictures. I kissed you like that because you were looking up at me with that look in your eyes that makes me fucking burn. I had them play that damn song because I wanted you to be happy to be there with me, especially after that fucking pussy Jake came over and touched you. Do you have any idea what it does to me when he touches you? Or when he makes you fucking smile about some shit? Or when he looks at you? Or the way you look at him?" His chest is glowing again. The tatters of his shirt are still hanging off his body from where you ripped it open.

"Ben-"

"And yeah, maybe I'm not some wimp who likes fucking plants. And maybe you're right, maybe I'm not the guy you bring home to meet your parents, but all I fucking want is for you to look at me the way you look at him!" He snarls and your mouth drops open in shock. "Do you have any idea how fucking ridiculous that is? I don't get jealous! I have fucked so many women and never given a shit if they had someone else, but I'm not even fucking you and the thought of you with him makes me want to-"

"Ben!" You shout over his monologue.

"What?" Ben snaps face contorted with rage.

You swallow. "I love you too."

And you know it's the truth, you know that it's exactly what you've been ignoring and what you've been fighting tooth and nail to avoid admitting to yourself because you were afraid that you were going to get hurt. You were afraid to have those kinds of feelings for Ben, because you thought he would only break your heart and push you away.

You can hear your grandmother's words ringing in your ears:

"There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared. You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful."

You had been so afraid to fall for the wrong man, but looking at Ben now and listening to everything he said to you, everything he admitted didn't make you think that he was the wrong man anymore. It made you realize that he was the right man, but only for you.

Ben is still staring at you, face contorted with his rage and frustration, eyes burning with the jealousy that he's never allowed himself to admit aloud.

But you refuse to take it back. It was true, maybe the truest thing that you have ever admitted in your entire life, and you didn't regret it.

You knew you loved him even when he made a disgusting joke or teased you or drove you to the point of insanity. You knew that it was why Ben was able to push all your buttons just the right way in a way no one ever had. You knew that was why your apartment was so empty and why you kept thinking that something was missing when he wasn’t there.

Because you loved Ben, and nothing else in your life seemed to matter.

His entire body is pulled tense, the glow in his chest dimming until it's completely gone. And for just a moment you think that Ben is going to start yelling at you again and accusing you of bewitching him, but he doesn't.

Ben crosses the room in two powerful strides and practically tackles you back onto the bed. His mouth fits against yours, urgent, demanding, but also filled with things unsaid. The feelings that both of you had for so long colliding, like a supernova, making your body ignite. You melt into him, feeling the comforting weight of his body settle on top of yours like a heated blanket as you sink into the blankets beneath you.

You hate that you denied yourself this indulgence for so long, not when it feels like Ben was made for you. Not when every single twist of his tongue sends you further into overdrive and makes something at the back of your mind scream “MORE!” at the top of its lungs.

Ben’s body fits perfectly over yours, his hands holding on to your cheeks so tight as if he’s afraid you’re going to pull away from him again as if he thinks you’ll run like you did.

A part of you knows that you’ll always feel guilty for that, for running from Ben when he kissed you on the dance floor. But you won’t feel guilty for this.

The world falls silent and you’re left with Ben.

The man who seemed to be wrong for you in every way, the one who told you that he didn’t believe in romance, and the man who you can’t live without.

“Ben-“ You moan into his mouth your arms wrapped under his arms to hold him close to you, afraid that he’s going to cut and run. “Ben wait-“

“What?” He smiles down at you the same way he did the morning you woke up next to him. And it’s the same way you wanted to make him smile for the rest of your life. Not the cocky smirk,but the soft smile that you felt Ben only reserved for you.

But before you can answer, Ben dips his mouth down and kisses you again. It’s not with the same burning intensity as before, but this time it’s with the gentle movement of his lips against yours, the soft nudge of his nose while his scruff rubs against your cheeks in a way that makes you sigh into his mouth.

“What is it Petals?” He whispers pulling back.

You gently shuffle your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, loving the way the strands fall between your fingertips and scrunching it out of the slicked back style it was earlier. He looks more like himself now. “Can we go back to the apartment?”

“You want to leave?” Ben frowns. “You don’t want to stay with me?” The way his voice shifts just a little, breaks your heart and you pull his face back down so you can kiss him again.

How can he think that I don't want to stay with him if I just admitted that I loved him? Is that how it was with Countess? That she promised him those little things and then left him?

“Of course I want to stay with you Ben. I just like the apartment more."

“Then why?”

“Because it’s cold here. There’s no warmth and nothing familiar. It’s like a museum. And I miss Bean.”

“But-“

“I know that you’re used to this and that you like all of this, but I don’t. I’m not this girl. I’m not the parties and the jewelry and the millions of screaming fans and the ridiculous dresses. I like my little crappy apartment and my five hundred jobs and just staying in to watch movies and eat pizza or read a book and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” His hand cups your cheek.

“Because this is what you like. The fans, the parties, the apartment on the top floor of Vought tower-“

“I don’t care about any of it if you’re not with me.” Ben winces as if it physically hurt him to say that. “Fuck. Forget I said that-“

Your lips meet his, gently pulling him further on top of you. “No.” You whisper, pressing another kiss to the tip of his nose. “Because it’s not weak for you to admit that you like having me around. Would you hate it if I said that I hate not being around you?”

“No.” He mutters, but he doesn’t look any less disgusted with himself and you’re not convinced.

"We're going to have to work on that Gramps." You smile kissing him once more. Ben's hands travel from your face down to your hips griping your body even tighter against where he lies in the cradle of your thighs and bringing your legs up to wrap around his waist. "Ben?"

"Hmm?"

"I also don't want to have sex with you in this bed."

"Why not?" He smirks. "It's pretty comfortable."

"Because I don't know when the last time you cleaned the sheets was and I don’t want to think about all the women that have been in here this week."

Ben frowns. "Probably good that you don’t." But then he smirks again, pushing the cotton t-shirt you’re wearing up over your thighs, brushing his fingertips against the soft skin gets closer to everywhere you want him to be, his eyes glinting mischievously. "But you're finally admitting you want to have sex with me?"

"I guess so."

“Good.” He smirks. “Because I think I’ve been patient long enough. And I can’t wait to show you just what you’ve been missing out on.”

“You are so full of-“

Ben cuts you off again, his tongue slipping between your lips while his fingers search even higher to a place that makes you gasp and moan into his mouth.

“You were saying?” You can feel his smirk against your lips and fuck if it’s not the sexiest thing you’ve ever felt.

“I was saying, let’s get out of here.”

The car drive from Vought Tower to your apartment was ten minutes, and you were very much appreciating the tinted windows and private backseat from the driver. Ben hadn't been able to take his hands off you since the two of you left and you also were enjoying learning how much Ben liked it when you touched him.

You didn't know how you were ever going to stop. Everywhere inside and out of you felt like it was on fire. It had never been this way with any of the men that you'd dated in the past.

Even your first boyfriend, Newton, never made you feel as beautiful and sexy as Ben did, but it felt pointless to compare them. Not when Ben touching you made you feel like you were radioactive and burning from the inside out.

By the time you get to your apartment door, your lips are already swollen and red, and there’s a collection of marks on your neck that Ben was more than happy to place.

“Ben-“ You moan softly trying to fit your key into the lock of your front door.

He was pressed against you, his hands roaming up and down while he sucked another mark into the shadow of your jaw, his beard burning against your delicate skin in a way that made you want to lose yourself in him.

“I’m a little busy at the moment Petals.”

“We’re in public.” You giggle as you try to fit your key in the door again, but Ben pushes you up against it, his large hand reaches low to squeeze your butt and possessively roams his other one over your chest in a way that makes you flush bright red at the thought of anyone seeing the two of you.

Rex was sitting patiently at your feet for the door to open, while looking up and down the hallway for a potential meal.

“So?” Ben rumbles against your throat, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. “I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”

“Everyone or Jake? Because I don’t see him and-“

Ben moves so fast you think you imagine it. Your arms are suddenly wrapped around the back of his neck, and he has your legs tangled around his waist, bracing your back against the door.

“Don’t say his name in front of me.” Ben all but growls, eyes so dark that it sends a shudder down your spine. “Not now.”

“Please don’t be jealous of him.” You whisper, nudging your nose against his, before you kiss him once more. “I stopped noticing him the day you moved in.”

“Oh really?”

You nod.

“Good thing too.” He murmurs with a smirk. “Because I’m about to make you forget him and everything else.”

A shudder goes through your body that Ben notices and the smirk that curves over his lips makes it difficult to breathe.

“Your heart is racing.”  The hand that he has placed under your leg to support you against the door brushes against the soft fabric of the sweatpants he let you borrow moving back to hold on to your ass. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re excited.” He kisses you again, long and drawn out in a way that makes you feel like you’re going to melt into a puddle. “That I excite you.”

He’s going to be the death of me.

“You excite me too.” Ben says kissing the slope of your neck to suck a new mark there, before you can stop him.

“You’re very sure of yourself.” You say out of breath.

“Mhmm.” He moans, but he puts you down to let you open the door.

Your hand finds his as you cross the threshold of the apartment, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure him.

Bean is lounging on the couch, a lazy smirk on his lips as if he knew exactly what the two of you were about to do, and Rex scuttles over to sit on the other side of the couch, jostling Bean who gives an angry hiss, that Rex ignores.

The air in the apartment is different now that Ben is with you. It’s not cold or dark anymore or empty, it’s warm and light and filled with something that you’re not sure what it is yet, but you can’t wait to find out. And it makes you happy, happier than you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

“So… yours or mine?” Ben murmurs with a smile, his eyes shifting to the couch in your living room before flicking above your head to the darkened hallway where your bedroom is.

“Hmm.” You bite the inside of your cheek as if contemplating something. “Well I was thinking-“ You begin to walk backwards, tugging him in the direction of the bedroom. “What about ours?”

You didn’t think you’d ever seen Ben smile so wide, his eyes softening in the gentle light coming from the lamps in your living room.

“You asking me to move back in?”

“No. I’m asking you to come home.” You whisper because you knew that it was home, that no matter how many times Ben had said it in passing, the word home had changed into something wonderful. 

“I like the sound of that Petals.”

You continue to pull him down the hallway, but before you get to the bedroom, Ben stops.

“Petals?”

“Yeah?” You look up at him suddenly worried.

“I’m not going to lie to you I’m not really that gentle, but I know that’s you want that. That you want someone who’ll make love to you, but I-“ He grimaces when he says the words ‘make love.’ “I don’t know if I can.”

“It’s okay.” You whisper, cupping his bearded cheek. “As long as I have you it doesn’t matter.”

“You do. And I’m going to try.” Ben murmurs. “I want to show you how much you mean to me.”

“I know.” You kiss him again and wonder if he’s ever said that to anyone else. “I trust you Ben.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Let me decide that.”

And it was true. You knew that Ben wasn’t gentle, but he was with you. And you trusted him. And sure, maybe it wouldn’t look the same way that you’d always imagined when you read those romance books, but it was your love story, your romance, and you didn’t care how it looked as long as Ben was there with you.

A/N: Well the two idiots finally figured it out in the most dramatic way possible lol. I will say that writing that confession scene might be my favorite thing that I've ever written, goodness it was so fun and I've had it written for AGES 😂😭. I'm not quite done with them yet, I see maybe another chapter or two, but we are quickly nearing the end of this story. Again thank you so much everyone for all the love and support, I really couldn't do it without all the wonderful feedback and love that everyone has shown me. ❤️🥰

If you'd like to ask me about my WIPs for WIP game my asks are open! And my WIPs are listed on this post!

As Always, thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery

@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta

@melonmochi

@kamisobsessed @whichwitchwanda @karolina-12110905 @jcollins03-blog

@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444 @tulipsvanilla @angrydragon90 @chi-raz

[luveline]

hi again!! i saw you mention wanting to write for prince!steve, and i also saw that you write with dialogue prompts so i present to you:

A: “I’ll take care of you.”

B: “It’s rotten work.”

A: “Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

maybe the reader gets injured doing something for training, but it’s all up to you!! i’m sure we’ll love it regardless. kisses!!

thank you for requesting! —prince steve au. fem, 1.5k

Pain was familiar before you came to the palace. Small pains and big, all kinds of hurting, poverty-driven neglect leading to toothaches and back pain, twisted ankles walked on without choice, sore skin otherwise ignored. It didn’t matter if you got hurt as long as you lived. 

Not in a dramatic sense. It didn’t feel dramatic at the time, only miserable. You go to work with a migraine because you can’t afford not to. You walk home in the dark because the mag-trams are getting too expensive. You break your holo, so you make do without one. You pick your head up to keep looking both ways and you get everywhere you need to go because you need to work, to get paid, to eat, to work. 

That’s how it always was. So getting sick didn’t matter. An injury was temporary pain that your body would fix eventually, and if it didn’t, well, it’s cheaper to pull a tooth than pay to have it filled. 

You were used to your sorry life, and then you met Steve. Tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed Steve. Looking at him sometimes is enough to make your whole body a void for things you used to complain about; you wake up across from him in the big bed and forget you can feel pain at all, if only because he’s already awake, waiting for you to open your eyes before he rests his hand on your cheek. You met him and your soul-mark glowed with a lacy, almost feathered light, your wrist braceleted with white colour that soon faded to mellow blue. 

When you first meet your soulmate, the colours you make tend to shift. It takes time for your heart to decide if love is pink or orange or blue. It seems to have settled now —when Steve kisses you, your mark turns a Gaussian amber. When you kiss back, his mark turns light pink, like the lotus flowers he keeps in his private gardens. 

Right now, your mark hums an angry red. It’s typical in its colour, and it’s common. Most people’s marks turn red when they’re hurting. Yours is a crimson so dark it looks black in the dim lighting, and it throbs in time with your pain like a vexing metronome. You’ll never be able to put it from your mind if the mark continues to remind you. 

Steve is uncharacteristically quiet at your side. His own mark is lit in sympathy, mostly pink with his affection, but threaded in red like spider lily flowers blooming against his forearm. 

He shifts beside you. It’s been more than a month since your wedding, and yet he’s careful with you. Almost shy, though he can be brash and cocky. You know intimately how sweet Steve can be when he’s in love. 

It doesn’t make any sense. 

“How’s the pain now?” he asks, his eyebrows pulled together at their starts. 

“Not so bad.” 

“Could you rate it on a scale? If zero was no pain at all, and ten were enough to warrant another dose of white willow bark?” 

“What if I were at a five?” you ask. 

“A half dose and a good kiss?” 

You turn his way but flinch when it puts undue pressure on your leg, a stab of hot pain jumping from your fractured tibia to deep inside of your hips. Steve sees your wincing and presses your shoulder into the bed, leaning over you, a scolding he doesn’t give in the pinch of his eyebrows as he leans down to kiss you. It’s more caress than kiss, his hand cupping your cheek, his lips barely touching yours before he rests his nose at your brow. “Can you stay still?” he asks. 

“Sorry.” 

“Just don’t want you to hurt yourself again.” 

He lifts his head. Holds your cheek for longer than you can work out why, dotting another soft kiss to your nose before slinking out of bed to find you some white willow bark tincture. It’s a potent pain reliever. You shouldn’t have too much of it. If you were still living your past life, you’d be chewing on ginger skins trying to limp your way back into work. There’d be no time to stop. 

“Steve,” you say, watching him a small ways away at the table of your quarters. He turns to you. “I don’t really need anything else.” 

“You said it’s hurting?” Steve pipettes the tincture into a cup of water. “You said a five, and you lie. Knowing you, it’s closer to an eight, you just don’t want to tell me.” 

It might not be as extreme as an eight now, laying down and bandaged, but it hurts badly and a tincture would solve this. Still, you say, “It’s fine, I don’t need it.” 

He brings the glass regardless and puts it on the nightstand. Your bed is yards too big for one person, even two, but when Steve sits next to you he leaves no room between you. He looks down at you fondly. Brown hair like down feather falls against his forehead. 

“You’re going to be in pain for a long time.” He brings a hand to your cheek again. “It might sound tame, a plateau fracture, but that’s still a fracture. You know doctors say fracture when they mean broken, right? You broke your leg. It’s okay to want pain relief.” 

“I knew that. I didn’t know you knew it.” 

“Impolite.” He ducks down to look you in the eyes. You’re a little skewiff, straight to his sideways, but it gets a point across. He wants to kiss you while you’ve said something maddening. “I don’t see why you’re so insistent on pretending it hasn’t happened and that you’re fine. You got hurt, and you’ll stay hurt for a while. It might be weeks of bed and– and you need to be looked after. I don’t know why you’re so guilty about it.” 

“I’m not guilty,” you deny guilty, turning your face to lean into his hand, rather than continue to face his imploring gaze. “I just… I’m not used to this. Before, if something went wrong, I couldn’t just lay down and wait to get better, and I surely wouldn’t be laying here with doctors and servants and the ladies in waiting all trying to make sure– It’s like it’s not my fault, and that doesn’t make any sense. I don’t want to be a burden on everyone. More than I already am,” you add, a bitter mumble nearly lost to his palm. 

He makes a promise, then, turning your face to the light. “I’ll take care of you,” he says. 

“It’s rotten work.” 

Steve shakes his head gently. “Not to me. Not if it’s you.” 

You press your tongue to your teeth, worried you’ll say something you’ll regret. You don’t want him to go. You want him to mean exactly what he says, to stay here and take care of you, and to enjoy doing it. Wouldn’t it be nice to be loved for love's sake? 

Steve shuffles inward and encourages your head into his lap, thrusting pillows aside to take up station against your headboard. He frames your face, upside down, before both hands begin to run down your arms. A hug, in a way, as he twists his face to kiss the skin beside your eye. You squint at the proximity. 

“You’re not a burden,” he says, hands climbing upwards now, warm and steady where they travel, “you’re my wife. My cherished wife, remember?” 

His tone is silk. 

“You… haven’t proved to be a wretched husband,” you confess. 

“I did try. But loving you has been easy. It makes husbandry a gift.” He laughs at his grandiose and gives you a kiss that’s more familiar by your ear, his pleading, searching kisses, the kind he likes to press to all your softest junctures. “I wish you could understand that we’re marked for a reason. We were always meant to be together, and I couldn’t have asked for a better person to stand with me. I’m happy you’re here. I want to take care of you.” 

Not if it’s you, he’d said. 

You wonder if it might be okay to cry. He’s massaging your arms, still bent in half over you trying to kiss some belief in him into your forehead. 

“It’ll be okay,” he murmurs between chaste, silent kisses, “really. You don’t have to pretend things don’t hurt you anymore.” 

You feel strange, then, shivery and weak as you turn your face into his thigh. His hand slips behind your back to hold you.

“Can I convince you to drink this tincture now?” he asks, just above your ear. 

“I love you,” you mumble. 

He pauses his trailing hands. You squeeze your eyes closed, but he doesn’t pause for long enough to scare you. “I love you,” he says. “Since the day we met, I’ve loved you. I’ll take care of you.” 

He is easy to believe. 

[straylightdream]

understand

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: yoon joenghan x f.reader

↳ Watching your “best friend” marry your ex is heart breaking. At least Jeonghan is by your side. He’s the only one who could make you feel less heartbroken.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much fluff, angst, mutual pining, they’re both head over heels for each other, smut warning below the cut.

an: this was inspired by the song understand by keshi. Thank you @whimsical-whatever for helping me with this story.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Unprotected sex (the mc is on birth control), body worship, cum play, creampie, oral, shower sex, fingering, light choking, jeonghan is fascinated with the mc neck, nicknamed: (hers) honey, baby

It was your best friend's wedding and you sat at a table in the corner with a glass of champagne in your hand as you watched her dance with her new husband. You couldn’t help but feel quite awkward even attending this wedding. The man your best friend was marrying was your ex boyfriend that you dated for three years. Somehow you had managed to stay friends even though it made you sick to your stomach seeing them together.

Walking across the ballroom as the song finished playing you were quickly stopped by your best friend grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the dance floor. It took everything to not pull your hand away and take off running. You didn’t want to be at this wedding and you sure as hell didn’t want to pretend that you were having a great time.

“Come dance with us,” she said, attempting to pull you onto the dance floor where her new husband was and all the bridesmaids.

“I’m gonna go get more alcohol,” you said before downing what was left of your champagne. You needed something stronger if you were going to survive tonight.

“You better dance with me before the night is over,” the bride said before dancing away.

You closed your eyes tightly and reluctantly saying, “okay.”

Turning on your heels you rolled your eyes and headed straight towards the bar. You weren’t even sure why you agreed to come to this wedding. Your best friend and new husband were quite aware of how uncomfortable their relationship made you feel.

Standing at the bar you found a man ordering a drink. He was a familiar face, and close friend that you were hoping could distract you. You were quite shocked to see him standing at the bar alone. At any event he always seemed to have some women falling at his feet.

“I need a real drink,” you sighed leaning against the bar.

“I can’t believe you even showed up,” Jeonghan said leaning against the bar with you. He looked absolutely handsome in a suit just like he always does.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, “she begged me to come. She said she couldn’t get married without her best friend being here.”

You could vividly remember your best friend coming straight to your apartment after he proposed to her. They had only been dating a year and three months before he got down on one knee. Seeing the huge rock your best friend had on her ring finger made you feel like you had wasted three years of your life on the man that was going to marry your best friend.

“It’s safe to say at this point I would rather light myself on fire than be here,” you said, reaching over and grabbing the glass that was sitting in front of Jeonghan.

He smirked as he watched you standing next to him down the drink that just sat in front of him. He couldn’t help but let his dark eyes travel up and down your soft body. You're wearing a stunning blue dress that hugged your curves perfectly.

“You know everyone thinks she’s a terrible person for what she did to you,” Jeonghan said looking over at the bride who was dancing awkwardly with her new husband.

“Maybe something was wrong with me,” you said wondering why you weren't enough. You're the exact opposite of your best friend and you thought maybe you just weren’t enough for him. Maybe he wanted someone prettier like your best friend or someone is small and skinny.

“Or maybe you were just too good for him,” Jeonghan said, causing you to smile.

“Where’s Joshua?” You asked, attempting to change the subject.

“He flew home to see his parents. Also he said he wasn’t a fan of the lovely couple anymore after what they did to you.” From the moment Joshua found out about the bride and groom's engagement he practically stopped being friends with them. He took your side instantly and told you shouldn’t attend this wedding. You aren’t shocked he’s not here. You didn’t think Jeonghan would come. You’re shocked to see him here.

“You know I would have also skipped this and left for my business trip tonight but I hated the thought of you being here sad and not having anyone.”

“Lucky him he got to skip this wedding. You could have also skipped it. I would have been okay,” you said trying to not sound sad about his statement.

“I wanted to make sure I got to say a proper goodbye to you.” Jeonghan has a feeling his business trip was going to be a lot longer than a month and he couldn’t leave knowing you had to attend this wedding alone. “Would you dance with me?” Jeonghan asked, holding his hand out. This must be his attempt to change the subject.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth and slowly nodded. You reached out and took his hand as he led you to the dance floor. The band had switched it up from a fast tempo swing song to a slower song. Looking around you watched as boys and girls coupled up across the dance floor. You and Jeonghan have been friends most of your lives but they never danced or did anything romantic together. Back in the day when you were in college when Joshua and Jeonghan frat had a dance you actually went with Joshua not Jeonghan. You had gone most of your life having a crush on the man you’re dancing with. Jeonghan was the definition of a ladies man and constantly had ladies dying to go out with him. You couldn’t help but wonder where his date was for the wedding.

“Jeonghan, who did you bring tonight?” You asked wondering if you knew his date.

Resting his hands on your soft hips he pulled you closer to him and signaled for you to put your arms around his shoulders. He gave you that signature Yoon Jeonghan smirk that seemed to make all the girls melt as he stared into your eyes.

“I didn’t bring a date,” he simply stated.

You pushed your eyebrows together and gave him a confused look, it was rare Jeonghan ever went to an event without a date. “That’s odd,” you said with a little laugh as you swayed to the beat of the music. He didn’t say anything, Jeonghan just gave you a smile and pulled you slightly closer to his body. You swayed to the beat of the slow song the band was playing.

“I should have asked you to dance long before now,” he said softly.

“I was hiding in a corner not many people knew where I was,” you let out a soft little laugh.

He shook his head and said, “I’m saying I should have taken you out on a proper date.” His words caught you off guard. “I shouldn’t have waited until the night of your asshole ex’s wedding. And the night before I’m leaving for at least a month.” You blankly stared at him just confused by what he was saying to you. You have always had a crush on Jeonghan for most of your life, but you didn’t think in a million years he would ever return your feelings. He’s always been the talk around town with all the girls. He’s charming and oh so handsome. He could have any girl he could possibly ever want. You’re confused as to why he would want you.

“Why would you ask me out?” You asked speaking up for the first time.

“Because you’re pretty and funny and why wouldn’t I?” He stopped dancing and reached down and grabbed your hand. Lacing your fingers together he led you out of the ballroom where everyone was still dancing and you headed out to the balcony.

You stood outside in the crisp night air. You silently stared at him, not even sure what was going on. You weren't sure if this was all a nightmare for the fact you were at your best friend's wedding where the man she was marrying was your ex boyfriend or if it was a dream based on the fact Jeonghan just admitted he wished he’d taken you out on a proper date.

“Honey I like you, I have for a while,” he stated. Your eyes grew wide, shocked by his words. “You were so torn up by that asshole in there I didn’t know what to do.”

“You literally leave tomorrow for a month-long business trip,” you sighed. You weren't even going to get a chance with him before he was gone for a whole month, maybe even more.

“I’ll be back soon,” he whispered.

“What if they ask you to move there for your job?” You asked the one question that terrified you. Jeonghan worked for a big tech company and they were opening a new branch in Tokyo and they asked Jeonghan to help run it as they opened.

He dropped his head and looked at his feet. He had thought about that quite a bit.

“I’m going to come back and when I do. I’m going to take you on a proper date,” he placed his free hand under your chin and slowly tilted it up so you were looking right into his beautiful dark eye.

“Do you promise?” You asked, causing him to smile.

“Yes,” he nodded his head. “And if they ask me to stay longer I’ll fly you out to Tokyo. We can even try to do long distance.”

You hate the idea of long distance but you would do it in a heartbeat for him. “Okay.”

“Honey, can I kiss you?” he asked. You’ve always loved when he’s called you honey. He says he calls you it because you’re always so sweet to him. You didn’t say anything, you just nodded. You couldn’t lie, you dreamed about kissing Jeonghan since your early teenage years. Jeonghan and Joshua have been some of the only people who have constantly been in your life. His strong hand went from under your chin to resting on your cheek as he softly pressed his lips to yours. You smiled into his lips enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours. Pulling away he gave you that heart melting smirk. “That’s to be continued.”

You nodded and whispered, “to be continued.”

The two of you walked back inside to find the dancing had picked up again. At this point you had no desire to be at this wedding. You asked Jeonghan to wait by the door while you went and said goodbye to your best friend. Walking back to Jeonghan you asked him to walk you home. You walked hand in hand down the streets of the city until they arrived at your home.

Standing on the steps in front of your apartment you couldn’t help but smile as you looked at Jeonghan. You didn’t think you would ever get over how good he looked in a suit. His hands were in his pockets as he smirked at you. You couldn’t lie, you desperately wanted to spend the night with him.

“I want to invite you up,” you sighed.

“Honey, how much I would love to, why don’t we wait until I get back.” He reached up and rested his hand on your cheek. “You aren’t the type of girl to invite a guy upstairs before even the first date and I would love to do nothing more than go upstairs, but I need to take you out on a proper date.” His sweet words caused you to smile.

“Jeonghan, I don't want to wait until a proper date. I don’t want to wait a month or possibly more to finally be with you.” He’s silent for a moment as if he’s trying to figure out what to say.

“Are you sure?”

You don’t say anything, you just crash your lips into his. Your first kiss with Jeonghan is everything you’ve always imagined it would be.

He pulls away from you smiling, “let’s go up stairs.”

Walking inside your apartment you set out your heels and set your bag down. You can feel Jeonghan's eyes burning into you as he steps out of his shoes.

“I need to take my makeup off and change. I don’t want to be reminded of this wedding anymore.” You sigh.

“Why don’t you take a shower?” He asked.

You can play this one of two ways and you decide it’s time to be bold. Biting your bottom lip you muster up some confidence before saying, “will you join me?”

“Absolutely,” he smiles.

-

Standing under the warm water you watch him slowly join you in the shower. He’s so pretty he’s absolutely breathtaking. Neither of you say anything for a long moment, you just take in sight of both your naked bodies.

“I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this,” he says, breaking the silence. He steps closer to you resting his hand on the side of your neck. “Shau always gives me shit for not telling you how I felt.”

“I know you like me now,” reaching out resting your hand on his chest. “Are you going to show me how much you like me?”

“Is that what you want honey?” He leans forward so his forehead is resting against yours. “You want me to show you how pretty I think you are? And how badly I want you?”

“Please.”

Leaning in, he crashed his lips into yours for a heated kiss. His hand doesn’t leave your neck as your lips move together. Your finger tangled into his long blonde hair holding him close to you. You can feel his hardened length pressing against your stomach.

Pulling away you smile at him. If you’re only going to have one night, before you go possibly months not see him you want to make the most of it. You want to give him everything.

“I want you,” you say, stepping back.

“You can have me,” he says.

You drop down to your knees in front of him. He looks down at you with lust filled eyes. “This sight I never want to forget,” he pulls your hair away from your face.

You take his hardened length in your hands and slowly start to pump, feeling him growing even harder. You give kitten licks to his sensitive head. Looking up at him through your lash you see the intoxicating sight of him biting his lip holding back a moan. Hollowing your cheeks you take him in your mouth. One hand rests on his thigh to steady yourself.

You can tell he’s trying to show restraint allowing you to control what’s happening.

“Fuck- you’re good at this-“ he moans.

Releasing him with a pop you look at him and smile before slowly licking his sensitive slit that is already leaking salty precum. You take him in your mouth once again. This time he hits the back of your throat almost triggering your gag reflex.

“Baby I don’t want to blow in your mouth our first time,” he tugs on your hair gently. Sitting back on your hunches you look up at him trying to look innocent. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he sighs. He reached down, helping you stand up.

His lips crash into yours for a searing kiss. He moves you backwards with zero effort. Your back is against the cold tile wall. His hands are everywhere he can reach, before his long fingers slip through your wet folds. The moment his finger brushes your sensitive clit you instantly gasp. His other hand rests on your neck. You realize that this man has a fascination with your neck, but you won’t complain though.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispers with his lips against your jaw. “Is our first time together going to be in this shower?”

“God I want it to,” you sigh as his finger plays with your clit. His slender fingers know just the right way to touch you. Your body feels like a live wire.

“Do I need to get a condom?” His hands never leave your body.

“No, I'm on birth control and I’m clean. I’ve never had sex without a condom.” You sigh. You know you should probably ask him to get a condom but you don’t trust anyone more in this world then Yoon Jeonghan.

“Can I fuck you raw in the shower?” His lips brush against yours.

“Please.” You would beg this man for anything.

“I need you to come on my fingers and then you can come on my cock,” his finger dipped down inside you. His palm works against your sensitive clit while he pumps two fingers in and out of you.

“Fuck-“ you whimper. The coil in your stomach is tightening as you feel like you’re on the brink of falling apart.

“Honey, just come for me,” his hand on your throat adds a little bit of pressure pushing you over the edge. A white hot wave washes over you as you moan his name loudly.

Cleaning your eyes, your head rests back against the tile as you try to catch your breath. He slowly removes his fingers from your wet core. Bringing them up to his lips he licks them clean.

“God you’re beautiful when you come,” he smiles before pressing his lips to yours for another heated kiss.

“I need you to trust me,” he says, taking your hand. “Turn around and press your chest against the wall.” You don’t even question his request, you just do what he asks. The cold tile against your hardened nipples makes you gasp. His hand kneads the flesh of your ass while running his length between your folds. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you moan as his bulbous head nudges your clit.

One hand grips your hip as he pushes into you. This thrust are slow but deep. This angle has him hitting the deepest parts. Your cheek rest against the tile trying to ground yourself as Jeonghan fucks you. You can only moan his name as he repeatedly brushes your g spot.

Reaching between your legs you rub your clit knowing that you are desperately close to falling apart.

“Fuck you’re tight,” he moans. “How am I supposed to go to Tokyo for a month after knowing what it’s like to be inside you?”

“Jeonghan-“ you can’t think of anything other than his name. “I’m- clo-close” you moan.

“Where can I finish?” He asked.

“Inside-“

“Baby please come-“

“Close-“ you whine.

He picks up his pace desperately trying to push you over the edge. His fingers are digging into your hips. You have a feeling he might be leaving bruises. You’ll look at them as a reminder of what unfolds tonight. This time when your orgasm hits you it’s the hardest you have ever came. You feel like you’re on the edge of blacking out. Your eyes practically roll back in your head as your walls contact. Jeonghan falls apart right behind you moaning your name. He paints thick white ropes inside you. Slowly he pulls out watching as his cum slowly drips out of you while you’re still leaning against the wall. Standing there for a moment taking in the site if you before he grabs a washcloth and cleans up the mess he made.

He helps you turn around so your back is resting against the wall. The smile on his face makes you smile as well.

“I can’t wait till I’m home and I just get to constantly be with you.”

Jeonghan aftercare consisted of him washing your hair and taking the time to fully clean your body before he pulls you to bed. He spent the entire night holding you and kissing you. You have one last round together where he makes slow passionate love to you promising he’ll be back soon.

When morning comes you drive him to the airport and say your goodbyes for now. You know that you may not get to be fully together right now, but you know that being fully with Jeonghan is what the future holds for you.

If you have asked to be tagged I request that you please reblog. If you could leave comments and tags that would be greatly appreciated.