#He has angst in his backstory o

[skydreamplayzz]

Wanted to add a new Oc after a while ^^".. Maybe i will draw a ref but idk. He's nameless at the Moment. Naming Ocs is still Not my Thing.. 🧍‍♂️

[alphabetboyluvr]

habits of a clandestine nature | jjk

pairing: collegejk x female oc (angst, smut)

warnings: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, flashbacks to summer, (mild) enemies to lovers, oc lives with tae (they're besties), jk is besties with jimin, mentions of parents infidelity, mentions of oc's virginity (lost prior to the story starting), a little angsty, jk is nawt a fuckboi, but he is stewpid, unprotected sex, bathroom escapades, multiple positions, oral (f), mentions of blowjobs, house parties, jackson wang!!!!!!!, yoongi has no lines but is also one of my fave characters lmao

wordcount: 16k

note from holly: this was written as a commission over on ko-fi!! it went through soooo many changes and edits - at one point it was over 24k lmao. i have so much lore and backstory for this couple, but I'll save it for a rainy day!! one of the main prompts was the 2004 classic a cinderella story, and there are little nods to it throughout the story, including the diner name!! a commenter on wattpad said the pairing reminded them of danny and sandy from grease and like... i see it lmao. anywaysss enjoy!! <33

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

It's a well-trained habit, your fleeting glance towards the door of Montgomery's Diner when the bell rings.

Though the clatter of cheap porcelain being stacked on a tray almost manages to drown out the chiming metal, it's never quite enough. Softening your hardened expression, you continue on with your work, careful to not let your contempt show too much.

You already know who it is—or at least, who it could be. Only saw the girl leading the pack, but know that where Claudia goes, the rest of The Untouchables will surely follow.

Gorgeous in a way that money can't buy, and careless in a way that money makes up for, she's never taken personal issue with you. Barely even registers your existence.

From your quick look, you know that it's not just the girls today. It's the guys, too.

All with parents on the college board, they're regarded as campus royalty. Are aptly known as The Untouchables, 'cause the rules that apply to you don't apply to them. They'll likely continue with their lives in a similar manner for years to come, and will pass these attributes off to their offspring, whom they'll name after countries or distant relatives who were once regarded to be regal.

Gathering up the last of the discarded napkins on the table, you take one final, fleeting look just to see if a familiar face is with them.

It's not that you actively want to see him.

You just haven't seen him in the best part of a fortnight, which is odd.

He's been in your section of the Diner near enough every single night of the past three months—but school is starting up again, and he's got appearances to keep.

God-forbid Jeon Jungkook—son of the Admissions Director and heir-apparent to an unholy amount of real estate tied to the university—ever associates with the lowly scholarship kids like you.

The only reason The Untouchables ever come to this Diner is because it's the last remaining place close to the university that hasn't been snapped up and integrated into the campus. You guess it must feel like freedom to them, in a way.

In fact, you know this is the case. Jungkook has told you himself.

Has told you a lot.

Told you far too much.

Such candid honesty from him, shared during the lonely heat of a sweltering summer, is what makes it so jarring when he looks away as soon as his dark eyes meet yours.

Tall, broad, handsome; he's everything the gossip magazines you read during your downtime swoon over, but also everything they warn against. Too pretty for his own good, the resident agony aunt would call him if she were ever to see him. Would assume his ego is far larger than his shoe size; superiority complex embedded into his skin like the ink of his tattoos.

And while you think that perhaps those assumptions could be true, you also know the reality of him; how gentle his hands can be. Helpful, too. Delicate. Ornate, almost, when they fold bills into five petal flowers. Strong, when they grip the back of your neck. Commanding, when they're wrapped around his leather steering wheel.

You shouldn't know the way his car smells. Shouldn't know how he presses the heel of his palm against the wheel when he's reversing, or just how easy it is to clamber into the backseats over the centre console.

But you do, and it rests on your tongue like a dirty little secret desperate to escape: I know you.

You're not sure if you know him better than The Untouchables, but you know him independent of them. Not many people do.

It's rare to find him without Jimin cracking a joke by his side, or Claudia making a slightly mean remark masked as innocent ignorance as she leads him astray.

But summer happened, and so did Jungkook. With his friends away at their holiday homes, and his father's infidelity ripping his family apart at the seams, he'd needed something to stitch himself back together. Let you thread yourself through his very being, and once you'd tied yourself in a pretty little bow around his heart, he'd cut you off.

Is that not what all craftsmen do, though? Discard what no longer serves a purpose?

Memories of him, in all the places you never should have let him in, ravage your thoughts.

The scent of his aftershave lingers on the childhood plushie he used to tease you for having on your bed, but would also automatically hug into his chest every single time he entered your room.

The things he did—and the things he didn't do—corrupt your dreams and leave you restless when you wake.

The smudged mascara under your eyes hides the bags from your lack of sleep, and your only respite is that the little puffs beneath his eyes are extra prominent today. He's tried, too.

For a minute, you feel vindicated.

It doesn't last.

For the past few months, if he's been sleeping badly, you've known about it. Kept him company in this very Diner, or in the basement of a party house he was dumb enough to take you to, forgetting he'd have to return there after summer finished, too.

The walls might not talk, but Jackson Wang certainly does. Jungkook knows it's only a matter of time until his dirty little secrets—no matter how pure they actually are—become the talk of the town.

He always slept well in your bedroom, though.

Funny, that.

He's dressed simply, today: white t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black boots on his feet. It's still warm out, even if the sun does begin to set a little earlier than it had been during the hotter months. He's got no need for a jacket, and you despise how undeniably gorgeous his arms are in the dewy humidity. Tattoos trailing up and down his skin, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was a man of complexities.

Turns out he's just like every other good-for-nothing fuck boy who wasn't worth your time.

The Untouchables sit towards the front of the Diner. Your section is at the back, and there's no way in hell you're deviating from your set section. Not today. Not when he's with them.

"I thought we were free," your colleague, Maria, grumbles as you bring your tray to the counter.

Like you, she's a scholarship kid. Is the one who got you the job at the Diner after you both moved into the shared house you live in off-campus. Three of you live there—you, Maria, and Taehyung—and you all share the same disdain for The Untouchables.

"It never ends," you tease in reply. Glance over your shoulder, back at the table.

They're laughing and joking about something you can't quite decipher. All of them, except Jungkook.

There's a sternness to him. One of which you'd forgotten about. With one hand on the table, the other in his lap, his thumb fidgets over his tense knuckles. Sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, pushed up into his hair to hold it back off his face. Staring at nothing much, he's chewing up his bottom lip until he feels the familiar burn of your eyes on him. Looks your way.

It's curious, how looking at you halts his body from its self-soothing actions. He no longer nibbles on his lip. His tightly balled first eases.

"What do you think, Kookie?" Claudia drawls, drawing his attention back to the group. "You coming tonight?"

"Hm?" He questions, eyes pulling away from you. He begins to rub his thumb over his knuckles again. "Sorry, was just looking at the menu board. What are we talking about?"

"Party at the Conservatory," Jimin says from across the table. Though he's the one sitting beside Claudia, everyone knows Jungkook is the one that she's really interested in. Has been since their first day of college. "First of the semester. It's one of their birthdays. Reckon it'll be a big one."

On campus, but close enough to the boundaries that it's never infringed upon by security or university officials, the Conservatory isn't what it seems. A boarding house for the creme-de-la-creme of the Botany and Conservation PhD students, it's surrounded by land. Has rows upon rows of greenhouses for their projects.

Of the few times you've been there, you've always thought it was like a maze. The perfect place to get lost. The perfect place to get found, too.

Unfortunately for the PhD students, the house custodian took on the role for one thing and one thing only: to throw the biggest ragers on campus. Knows fuck all about growing anything that isn't illegal. Only managed to get the role, 'cause like the rest of The Untouchables, his dad works high up in the college. He's a few years older than them. Belongs to a different generation of campus royalty, but is keen on making sure his legacy remains.

After all, there ain't no party like a Jackson Wang party.

Namjoon—one of the Botanists and the birthday boy himself—has started padlocking the greenhouses.

Another one of them—Yoongi—minored in mechanical engineering. Has a coin-operated lock on his bathroom door. Makes enough money from a single Jackson Wang party to sustain himself for an entire month.

Hoseok and Jin, the remaining two, are just as messy as Jackson. Have only started PhDs because they don't know what else to do and don't want their youth to abruptly end. Live for the parties; survive for the studying.

"Now, who's told you that?" Jungkook smiles, as if the prospect of showing up at the Conservatory doesn't make him feel a little bit sick. "Jackson?"

"Obviously."

"Well, of course he's gonna tell you it'll be big," Jungkook laughs. "Wants to rope as many of you fuckers in as he can."

"And it works every time," Jimin smirks back. "If everyone thinks it'll be a rager, everyone will want to go. He's a marketing genius, if you ask me."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Is fond in how he interacts with his friends. Has grown up with most of them. Whether or not they're everyones cup of tea is debatable, but they're his people.

And yet he finds himself glancing back over to the counter. You're not there anymore. Are out back, he assumes. Knows the layout, now. Where the walk-in freezer is. The little nook that you sit in during your break. He doubts any of his friends have ever been in a commercial kitchen, let alone one at a place like this.

While yes, his friends have only ever been good to him, he knows that it isn't the case for everyone they interact with. Is well aware that his friends would be confused beyond belief if they ever found out he knows how to click through the Diner's cash register and find the discount section. Would be even more perplexed if they were to see his initials hidden in one of the codes.

But summer was lonely.

Or at least it was.

Lonely, until it wasn't. Isolating, until he sought solace in someone he can't even bring himself to speak to in front of his friends.

Casting his eyes back down to the table, well aware that he's got no reason to feel as cut up as he does, he fakes a laugh. Looks up again at his friends with a grin so sincere that they'd never guess the way it feels like his heart is in his throat. "Alright. You're on. What time?"

The conversation dissolves into plans—what to wear, what drink to take.

After a summer apart, Jungkook thought it would be nice to be with his friends again. Thought he'd be excited; that he'd welcome them all back with open arms. Ask them about their summers, and lament his time spent here.

When Jimin asks him why he didn't go to the Italian villa his parents normally insist they spend the summer at, Jungkook shrugs.

"Dad has some stuff to sort out, so it was better to stay here," he says, minimising the reality of what really happened. Even you don't know for certain. All you know is that his father did something incredibly immoral, to the point where Jungkook can't even stand to look at him.

Is why he spent all those nights in the diner.

Was confusing at first. He was always angry. Always frowning. Always ordering black coffees and nothing else, huddled up in the corner booth, away from the world.

But with summer comes monsoons, and with monsoons come terrible conditions for walking home.

He expected you to say no when he offered you a ride. You expected to say no, too—but then a please and thank you had escaped your lips.

A routine grew. Habits formed.

Curious little thing, habits are. 21 days. That's all the time they take to develop.

Jungkook spent 63 days of summer with you in varying capacities. Enough time to learn a habit three times over.

The one that haunts him most is how it felt to have your hand beneath his on his gear stick. Finds the absence of you when he drives unbearable. Knows he's got no one to blame but himself; not just for creating distance, but also for minimising it in the first place.

He's the one who offered you a lift. He's the one who messaged you on your days off to see if you fancied going for a drive. He's the one who didn't turn the AC on just to get you shaking your jacket off your shoulders.

And he's the one that drove you out to the coast one evening for no other reason than wanting to hear the waves. He's the one who opened up to you about his family. He's the one that made things more than what they were.

Had walked along the shore with you, too scared to hold your hand beneath the lunar light. Opted for playful banter instead, nudging you into the lapping waves.

But the waves got bigger, and Jungkook's unbridled desire to have you close did just the same. Like always, he took things too far. Drenched in sea water, you'd laughed with him for the entire ride home.

Invited him in. Said, "The salt will ruin your clothes. We should wash them."

"Hand wash only," he'd said, pinging his damp t-shirt against his chest. It stuck to him in such a way you learned all of his edges before you ever saw him naked—not like there was much time between these two instances. Ended up in your shower with him, clothes beneath your feet, the excuse of hand washing disregarded the second he had you naked.

You learned three things about Jungkook in that shower.

The first is that he giggles. Lips on yours, hands clutching your jaw, whenever the water was a little too intrusive, he'd separate with a laugh. Would kiss you again, a smile still on his face. Would pretend as if he wasn't giggling.

But he was, and it was lovely.

The second was that he's the type to lean his head forward, not tip it back. With his hands pressed to the shower tiles behind you as your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, he let his head dip to his chest. Gave him ample opportunity to press kisses to the top of your head—or at least it did until you got to your knees and started taking his hard cock in your mouth.

"Shit," he had husked. Whined. Praised. "Fuck. You're so fuckin' good at that."

It was around then that you became aware he was a head pusher, too.

Almost as if he was saving the best until last, the third thing you learned was how he likes to cum; in your sheets, cock buried in your pussy, your hands clasped above your head. Missionary, 'cause he likes to kiss you through it. In your bed, 'cause he likes losing himself in everything you are. Prefers finishing inside you, but you refuse to fuck him without a condom so he never gets exactly what he wants. It's close enough, though.

Spent weeks—months—laying unfair claim to your body, and now he can't bring himself to look in your direction. It infuriates you.

But more than anything else, it embarrasses you.

Even your reflection laughs at you. Cackles 'told you so' every time you look in the mirror.

You always wondered why you never heard much about Jungkook's hook ups around campus. Everyone knows about Jimin and how his cock has been perpetually wet since the first day of freshers week, but there's always been a secrecy when it comes to Jungkook.

It's something you've teased him about; in your sheets, bodies clammy, his heart beating so fast in his chest you'd been forgiven for thinking he'd just run a marathon.

"When do I have to sign it?" You had giggled.

"Sign what?" He'd husked, voice all wispy and fucked out.

"The NDA," you'd replied as if it was obvious. "It's been, like, what? A month? Surely it's about time you made sure I kept my mouth shut like all your other girls do?"

On your front, your arms were folded over his chest, and he was gently rearranging the pretty little updo he'd made a mess of. Though he was looking at his hands as he replied, you kept your eyes on his. Studied his sincerity.

"Reason you don't hear about other girls is 'cause there aren't any."

A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, but you didn't let it shine for him.

"Sure."

There was a small jerk to his torso as a breathy smirk formed on his face.

"You think I can't be trusted?"

"I think it's foolish to trust any man."

His deep, dark eyes sank down to focus on yours. Offered you all the sincerity you'd be searching for, and more.

"That's all I am, huh?" He'd challenged you. "Just another one of your men?"

"One of the many," you'd teased just to rile him up a little.

"Ah," he'd played along. "So that's why I always have to wear a condom?"

With a saccharine smirk on your lips, you'd gotten back in position, legs straddled over his hips. Had kissed him. Whispered, "No. That's just because I know it annoys you."

"You annoy me all the time," he'd mumbled into your lips, hands gripping your waist to get you grinding against his still sensitive cock. Barely fifteen minutes since he'd last finished, there was no way he was ready to go again.

"Hm?" You'd hummed against his kisses, then began to work your way down his neck in a way that always got him a little moany. "If I'm so annoying, why are you getting hard again, baby?"

"You can be annoying and hot," he told you as he desperately tried to not let his insatiable need for you show.

"Is that how you like your girls?" You'd ribbed once more, just to piss him off a little. It was never serious. Never something you would actually fret over.

Perhaps you should have done, but then he told you with a little too much candour, "No. It's how I like my girl. Singular."

Loose lips sink ships, and Jungkook was one iceberg away from greeting the ocean floor. Closing his lips back down on yours, he was making sure you were just as insatiable for him as he was for you. He didn't cum again that evening, even if you did more times than you cared to count.

A greedy lover, is Jeon Jungkook. Edacious.

And so you understand, now, why the girls he gets entangled with stay silent; how the hoaxes he plays leave them utterly hysterical. They're subject to silence, because who would possibly believe all those sweet little lies he tells? How mad would they be considered if they tried to convince anyone he has a heart?

His brazen lack of humanity is proven when he comes to pay for the table. Any of them could have done it. Yet he elects to stand in front of your till and wait for you to serve him.

Have you not served him enough?

You refuse to utter a single word in his direction. Don't look at him, don't give him any satisfaction. He can read it for himself, he can pay, and he can fuck off.

"Keep the change," he mumbles tossing down the bills—but like fuck are you gonna keep anything he gives you.

He begins to walk away, a little shrunken in his stature.

"Excuse me, sir."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Jungkook is perplexed to hear you address him so coldly.

"Your change," you say, holding a closed hand out for him to hold his own hand beneath. He doesn't want to cause a scene. Obliges. Is surprised when notes, not coins, fall into his palm.

More specifically, notes folded into the shape of flowers. His handiwork, he's certain. Was something he used to do in the early hours of your late night diner shifts. If he said something a little mean, or bickered with you a little too hard, he'd fold his notes up like posies and give them to you as a remedy.

Never used those notes to buy you real flowers, mind you.

Back when things were still easy, you pulled him up on it. Told him that you'd be far easier to seduce with a little wooing. He'd told you that you were easy to seduce regardless.

You didn't speak to him for the rest of your shift.

Ended it with fourteen folded bills in the shape of a bouquet, and when the backseat windows of his car had a thick veil of condensation coating them that same evening, he'd drawn you flowers on them.

"No point in flowers," he'd told you. "They just wither up and die."

Which is funny, 'cause it kinda looks like Jungkook is doing that very same thing right in this moment. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out.

Disappointing, you think, then realise of course he is. Has done nothing but disappoint you.

You smile. Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. Good.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

21 repetitions. That's how many times it takes to form a habit. You know this.

You also know that 90 days of this repetition will form a habit to last a lifetime.

As you hook up your apron, and free your hair of the ribbon that had been tightly wrapped around your ponytail, you know these are 'lifetime' habits. Apron, then ponytail. Always.

But when you say goodbye to Maria, and ask if she'll be at home this evening, you find yourself leaning into a recently formed habit. It's not anything particularly noteworthy. Not something anyone would notice.

Well, not anyone who matters. You don't think Jungkook counts as someone who matters, anymore.

But he'd noticed; how you'd started glancing across to his parking spot whenever you clocked out. Had teased you for it. Asked you if it was the highlight of your day, seeing him there, as if it wasn't the highlight of his.

You should have known the playful banter when he told you not to get used to it wasn't really banter at all.

Yet here you are, glancing across to his parking spot only to see it empty.

It's not even like it's his spot. Whenever he's with his friends, they walk. Live right on campus, so don't need to drive, and if they do, they'll park right by the doors.

In the height of summer, when the lot was empty and Jungkook wasn't driving for his sake but for yours, he liked to park in the far corner. Said dumb shit about not wanting any weirdos scratching it. Whined and moaned whenever someone performed the very human act of parking next to the only other car in an empty parking lot.

"So many spaces!" He'd blather on. Would speak with his hands. Get deliberately more animated, 'cause it always made you laugh. "And they choose here?!"

The memories make you smile, until the yellow headlights of another car flood into the parking lot. They reveal what's right in front of you; a crowd of cars and not a single one of them you care for.

It's not like you cared for Jungkook, either. Was just something to pass the time when the streets were quiet and his head was loud. 

In turn, you gave him quiet, and he made your summer feel loud.

But the leaves are turning brown and the water in the roadside puddles is becoming stale. The seasons have changed and so has the nature of your interactions. It's fine. You don't care. Really. Couldn't think of anyone you'd want to hang around less. Would rather die than associate with The Untouchables.

You never needed a lift, not really. Especially not when it always took you an hour to get home 'cause Jungkook just wanted to keep on driving.

Grumbling to yourself just to try and divert your mind from thoughts of him, your heart almost skips a beat when your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second, you wonder if it could be him.

Where you at? It could read. I'm here.

Or maybe, I miss you.

I can't sleep without you.

This is so stupid. Can I come over?

It won't say of those things and you damn well know it.

Your text thread is dormant. The last message is from you, two weeks prior.

You: you not coming in tonight?

You: you'll be pleased to know my fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage to make sure i got home safe x

You: ... at least let me know if ur alive?

Rolling your eyes at how mortifying your desperation feels, the scowl that settles into your expression is comical. It's like you're fighting with the wind that's threading itself through your hair.

Pulling your phone out, the scowl only intensifies.

Jackass Wang: party tonight

You: so????

One thing about Jackson is that he's not gonna leave anyone on read, especially when he's trying to drum up attendees for his parties.

Jackass Wang: so i haven't seen you around for a while, montgomery

"Fuckin' Montgomery," you mutter at the nickname.

It's the one that all of Jungkook's friends seem to refer to you as, as if you don't have a personality outside of your job.

Still, at least Jackson is a little bit inventive with it. Calls you Monts. Monty, Monstera Plant, Monte Carlo, and god knows what else. If it starts with 'Mon,' he's found a way to end it with a cheeky smirk and smug anticipatory look in your direction, as he awaits your reaction.

You: i like it better when i don't see you x

Jackass Wang: you know that isn't true. loverboy will be there. come with him. or don't. i don't care. you can bring your little friends with you.

You: they'd rather die :) x

Jackass Wang: y'know, you're replying an awful lot for a girl who's not interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You: you just can't take no for an answer

Jackass Wang: yes i can - but you haven't said no yet. c'mon. loverboy has been moping around all week. i can't be arsed with his mardy ass energy all evening.

You: so don't invite him???? i don't see why it's my problem?????

The fact that you don't need clarification of who Jackson means is proof enough that perhaps Jackson's onto something.

Jackass Wang: conservatory any time after 9. be there or be square montgomery. or don't be. i'm sure loverboy can get his dick wet without you, but it's easier for everyone if he doesn't.

You: charming x

Jackass Wang: it's why the ladies love me.

You: all of them except this one, apparently. have a nice party. stay away from the drugs.

Jackass Wang: can't be tamed, monte carlo. nor can loverboy. come keep him company.

The block button towards the top of your message thread looks incredibly tempting. Just a single click and you'll never have to deal with Jackson Wang and his dumb parties ever again.

Part of you can't believe you've ever been associated with them, as it is.

Summer defied the conventions of the life you've built for yourself. You weren't the person you thought you were.

Kicking off your shoes when you arrive home, the door slams shut behind you. A gentle voice calls through to check if it's you.

"Maria's still working," you say as you walk into the kitchen, tossing your bag down on the floor and your phone on the counter.

Taehyung, your best friend since your first week at college, is cooking himself dinner, but offers you a spoon of the tomato sauce he's making. Humming as you taste it, you're amazed by how he manages to make even the simplest thing delicious.

"S'good. What is that? Cumin?"

Nodding, he smiles. "A little paprika, too. You want some?"

His hair is dishevelled, blonde and sunkissed from the sweltering summer skies. He always looks great with a tan; radiant and full of youth.

Shaking your head, you really don't have an appetite. "Think I'm gonna have an early night."

He's about to reply when your phone buzzes. Both of you glance down. Your skin feels red hot, and when Taehyung almost chokes on the spoonful of sauce he's just tried, he's all sorts of confused.

"Why the fuck is Jackson Wang messaging you?"

"Hmm?" You hum as if you have no idea what he's talking about. Realise from the look on his face that he doesn't buy it for a second. "Oh! That Jackson Wang. Think he sent a text to his entire contact list. Something about a party."

"No," Taehyung asserts. "Absolutely not. You cannot bullshit out of this one."

"It's not bullshit," you whine as you pretend to look in the fridge for something to drink. Settle on a beer left by one of Taehyung's friends at a party held last semester. It wasn't quite a Jackson Wang level party, but nothing ever is. "He's just trying to drum up numbers for his stupid party tonight."

Taehyung is many things, but stupid he is not. Though he's blonde (thanks to a bottle of bleach and a few too many jack and cokes), he bends all the stereotypes. His tuition is covered by a scholarship for academic excellence.

"Don't give me that bull."

"It's not bull!"

"So you're telling me, out of everyone at our college, the Jackson Wang is texting you to make up numbers for his party?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, partially a little offended at it being such an unfathomable idea. "And he said you can come too, so maybe you're the one he's really after!"

His expression is flat. You are paper thin.

He's known you long enough to know when you're giving him half-truths.

He also knows you spent the summer alone in this house, and that there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom next to yours.

"You're hooking up with him, aren't you?"

"No!"

Out of everyone to be accused of sleeping with, Jackson Wang is, like, the worst of the worst. He's handsome, sure, but he's also slept with pretty much every girl on campus. Is a teenage boy in a grown adult's body. You'd rather not fornicate with a guy who still finds 'your mum' jokes funny.

Taehyung gasps at your immediate denial. "You are!"

"I'm not!"

"All that talk about saving it for someone special, and you mean to tell me you went and lost it to Jackson fuckin' Wang?!"

Everything about this conversation is making you want to punch yourself in the face. The topic of sex, and just why you've never gotten around to it, has dominated many conversations around this dining table. If you have to discuss it again, you might move out.

"Oh my God," you whine, throwing your head back. "We are not having this conversation."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we're not, because I didn't lose my virginity to Jackson Wang!" You stress. The more you think about it, the more offended you are.

"To Jackson Wang," Taehyung echoes, as he begins to join invisible dots. "But you did lose it to someone."

"No," you insist, but Taehyung refuses to buy it. Knows you too damn well.

He always thought he'd know when you lost it. That it'd be a boy you'd been dating. Committed to. Someone good. Someone worthy. Not someone you keep in the shadows.

"There's something you're not telling me," he frowns. "What the fuck happened this summer?"

With a sigh so deep it's a miracle you're still breathing, you relent. Never signed one of those NDA's you're convinced Jungkook must hand out like candy, as if he's some sort of celebrity and not just some college reprobate.

"Jungkook," you feebly admit. Take a sip on your beer. Don't look at Taheyung, 'cause you're afraid to see his reaction. "Wasn't Jackson. Was Jungkook."

You tell Taehyung everything. How Jungkook never knew you were a virgin. How he still doesn't. How you blame yourself for your hurt, but him for not getting you any band aids to help deal with it; for not kissing you better when he was the one to cause you such hurt in the first place.

As you recite you memories, you play a game against yourself: take a sip every time you want to cry.

By the time you've told Taehyung the nitty-gritty truth, the bottle of wine that had been in the fridge is finished, as well as your beer.

"I can't believe this," Taehyung says for what feels like the billionth time.

There's a certain shame that comes with Taehyung's confusion.

Embarrassment, like the way Jungkook would cringe at himself whenever he stumbled on his words, or the way you'd covered your reddening cheeks with your hands when he teased you for looking at him in the way you did.

Remorse of time wasted before him, and time wasted with him.

Regret of the things you did and the things he didn't.

It's all very confusing. Exhausting. If you were to really think about it, you'd spend a week in bed with a box of tissues. Would ask Taehyung why he didn't warn you that a heart could feel this horrid.

But he did, and you damn well know it.

Shrugging, you reach for the bottle and split the final few glugs between your glasses.

"We were just bored," you play it off. "Had nothing better to do. No one better to do."

But Taehyung shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, yanno. Pretend like it didn't matter. It's okay that it did. Even if he is a prick, and even if he's no better than the rest of them. It's okay that it hurts."

You're silent when he says this.

Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player.

But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another.

Whoever he was pretending to be in the summer isn't who he is now that his friends are back—but when they're laughing and joking in the basement of the Conservatory that evening, Jungkook knows which version of himself he prefers.

"You need to get laid," Jimin tells Jungkook with a laugh. "Never seen a man look so bloody miserable at a party."

Of all the things Jungkook needs, getting laid is not one of them. In fact, he thinks it would be a very sensible idea if he never got laid again. Sex is messy. People get all emotional over it.

Or more so, he gets all emotional over it.

Had never been the type to, before. Always thought it was something that just happened to other people. Not to him.

He pushes the thoughts aside. Feels a little sick. Shrugs off Jimin's remark.

"If I wanted to get laid, I would get laid."

"So why don't you? Will do us all a favour. Claudia's been—"

"I couldn't give a fuck," Jungkook interrupts Jimin. "I'm not interested."

He never has been. Wants nothing to do with this university, and the men that run it, and so would never date one of their daughters.

They're all corrupt. Every last one of them. All cheat on their wives. All throw their families under the bus for their own selfish exploits. His own father's affair has proven this to him.

Jungkook pities his friends. Just because their parents haven't fucked up yet, doesn't mean they won't.

"Oi, Loverboy," Jackson calls from across the room, breaking the tension only to replace it with a headache for Jungkook. "Where's your little girlfriend? I told her to come."

"Who?" Jimin chirps.

Jungkook grates his jaw. Is deadly serious when he says, "Leave it, Jackson."

"Trouble in paradise for our lovebirds, huh?"

"I said leave it."

"Who the fuck is he talking about?" Jimin continues to ask, incredibly curious about this turn of events. Leave town for a couple of months, he thinks, and everything changes.

"No one."

"That one from the diner," Jackson just continues fuckin' talking. Jungkook wants to scream. "The one with a stick up her ass—"

"Jackson, cut it out," Jungkook snaps. "She's no one. Just fuckin' leave it."

"You ashamed, huh, Loverboy?" Jackson berates him a little bit. He isn't trying to be a dick, but he thinks Jungkook is acting like a tool. Jackson is no saint, but at least he doesn't ever pretend to be something he's not. "Poor girl. Wear her like your favourite pair of shoes all summer and then throw her to the trash when your friends come back? I thought better of you. So did she, probably. Shame."

Of all the people Jungkook ever expected to receive lessons in morality from, Jackson Wang was not the one. He parades himself around the Conservatory like Hugh Hefner reincarnated, his class attributed to money and not behaviours.

"The fuck have you been doing this summer, Kook?" Jimin laughs, utterly dumbfounded by his reactions.

They've all had their fair share of less than conventional lovers. If Jungkook has been fucking around with a girl from the Diner, then so what? Who cares?

"Nothing," Jungkook snaps.

It's not that he's ashamed. 

It's that you're separate.

When he's with you, all of this—the bullshit of college life and calamity of his family falling apart—dissolves into nothingness. He doesn't have to think. Finds himself at ease.

If you were to ever become a part of his life—his real one, not the one he got so used to living in with you over the summer—then it'd all change.

He doesn't want that.

He wants you to be a safe haven.

A refuge point can't be in the midst of a fire, though. He has to keep you away. At arms length.

But god damn, he wishes you would come and put out his fire. He's struggling. Finds existing without you so fucking hard. Doesn't know at which point he became so dependent, but knows his oxygen is running low.

He's suffocating. Isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up.

"Yeah, sure seems like nothing," Jimin smirks with a shake of his head as Jungkook storms off to get some much needed air. "Oi, Jackson, what was that all about?"

With a shrug, and yet another girl on his arm, Jackson grins. Puts on a pathetic little voice to mimic Jungkook's tantrum. "Fink baby boy has a wittle cwush."

"Girl from the diner?" Jimin implores, still smirking at Jackson's dumb humour. "Which one?"

"You really have to ask?"

For all of his mystery, Jungkook has never been a man of subtleties. His eyes give him away.

They always have done.

When he was looking at the menu board earlier that day? It was obvious.

Before college broke up for summer, and how Jungkook would always cast his eyes down to his hands whenever you, specifically, came to take their order? It was obvious.

How Jungkook would always make sure he was on the side of the booth that gave him ample opportunity to steal glances of you? It was so fucking obvious.

Sometimes he'd laugh at the slightly sarcastic remarks you gave Claudia whenever she would ask irritating questions about the menu.

When they were deciding where to eat, Jungkook would suggest the Montgomery's Diner, always.

So, no, Jimin doesn't really have to ask.

"Stupid prick," he sighs, sipping on his beer. Loves Jungkook to absolute death, but will never understand him. Figures that maybe you do. Worries that Jungkook is about to wreck it all. He calls after Jackson, "She here tonight?"

"Invited her," he calls back. "But she's got an attitude problem to rival his. Fuck knows if she's around. You'll feel her ice before you see her."

Which is funny, because the lingering summer heat sticks to your skin as you nervously meander up a driveway you know all too well.

The Conservatory is decidedly not a conservatory.

It's a complex. A maze of buildings, and greenhouses, and fuck knows what else. You've no interest in gardening, but if excelling at it meant living somewhere like this, maybe you'd consider taking it up as a hobby.

The buildings are mostly redbrick, with large windows, and even larger doors. It's the kind of place you'd imagine a Duke of some far away land prancing about in. Playing croquet, or secretly courting a lowly village girl that his parents will never approve of.

The irony isn't lost on you.

"Wait, how do I look?" Taehyung asks for what feels like the hundredth time. "Not too dressy?"

"You're wearing a waistcoat," you reply, face twisted in affectionate condemnation. He looks great, but he also does look far too dressy. It's his 'look', though, and one that'll get him attention, both good and bad.

If Kim Taehyung walked around with the arrogance his handsome face warranted him with, he'd be the heartthrob of the campus. You think even Claudia would want a slice of him—and given his distaste for the elite yet pining desire to be on their level, it'd be quite the complex pairing.

All of the other men here are in t-shirts, but Taehyung has never been like other men. It's part of the reason you like him so much.

One thing, however, you don't like about Taehyung is his domineering need to 'fix' things. It comes from a place of love, and he only ever does it because he cares, but it's not always in your best interest.

When he told you to go and get changed out of your work uniform, you thought he was planning on taking you to a bar. That you'd be drowning your sorrows over wine you can't afford.

You would never agree to go to the Conservatory. Not now.

Which is why he didn't tell you of his plan.

Instead, he ordered a cab and didn't give you the chance to protest. You were already halfway there by the time you realised.

"Why don't we just go home?" You whine, tugging on his arm as you stand by the gate that leads through the gardens—the same ones you used to traipse around in with Jungkook. "We don't need to be here."

"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, firmly standing his ground. "I've avoided this place for two years, and the second my back is turned it becomes your new home. The least you could do is invite me round for dinner."

"It's not my new home—"

"MONTGOMERY!"

The voice of Jackson Wang yelling across the front lawn makes you want to shrivel up and die. Sink down into the ground. You'd make great compost for the botanists.

"Y'know, you and Loverboy really need to stop lying so much," he says with an incredibly intoxicated grin as he lumbers towards you. You'll never admit it, but part of you is pleased to see him. "First you saying you weren't coming, then him telling everyone nothing happened between you. Both as bad as one another."

Nothing happened between you.

It doesn't surprise you, but it does sting. And it also confuses you. Why on earth would you be a topic of conversation? The people here know you as Montgomery. The girl from the diner. You're nothing but a background character to them.

"What did he say?" You ask, disregarding everything else, not even bothering to introduce Taehyung. He's finding all of this incredibly bewildering.

"Oh, Jimin was grilling him," Jackson waves his hands around, disregarding it. "Kept saying you were no one. Refused to admit that he'd practically tied his laces with yours for the whole summer. Don't you worry, though, Monte Carlo. I had your back. Set the record straight."

Jackson Wang having your back isn't something you ever expected to happen.

Jeon Jungkook's absolute denial of your clandestine affaire de cœur is, disappointingly, something you expected.

It doesn't mean that it comes without hurt. If anything, it's far more visceral, for you only have yourself to blame. These wounds are self-inflicted, even if they're carved with a knife Jungkook crafted out of silly affirmations he never should have made.

"Where is he?" You ask, cold in your tone.

Jackson shrugs. "Try the basement. S'where I last saw him."

As Jackson saunters off to find another poor partygoer to mildly offend, you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You've been irritated since you saw Jungkook earlier that day.

How he can just show up at the diner and act like he doesn't even know you, let alone knows what it's like to wake up next to you, is beyond insulting.

"C'mon," Taehyung urges you along. "I need a drink, and you could use three."

Conversely, you think you need an entire bottle.

A bottle of what, you don't care. Just something strong. Anything other than the shitty, overpriced whisky Jungkook always insisted on drinking.

"Fine. But we're not going to the basement."

It's perplexing to walk the halls of the Conservatory without Jungkook; to pass by strangers who have no idea who you are, but who know and admire him as if he's some sort of Hollywood celebrity.

They don't know him like you do. Don't know what it feels like to have his hand around their throat, or his fingers gently intertwined with theirs. They've never heard him laugh like you have.

And yet when you're a few drinks deep, and on the verge of calling a cab to go home, you hear that laugh again and wonder how he can bear to be happy right now.

Glancing up, his face is unreadable. The lights are dim, and the shadows obscure the painful furrowing of his brows. He looks just the same as he did back in the diner earlier that day. Perplexed. In pain. Somehow perfectly fine, too.

The group he's in is small. Some of them you know, some of them you don't.

Claudia sits across from him on the lap of some other guy, yet she doesn't take her eyes off Jungkook. She laughs a little harder at his jokes. Directs questions to him. Flirts with other people in front of him to no avail. 

Not even now, after summer when her skin is sunkissed and her radiance is rejuvenated, can she keep his attention.

In fact, none of them can once he spots you from across the room. The big lights are off, fairy lights strung up, and a sunset lamp pours a clementine hue over you.

Summer becomes you, he thinks—adores—from afar.

The year is a body, and you're eternally condemned to its heart. That's where he'll keep you. Where you belong.

Had it been spring—the brain of the year—when he'd been hauled up in that diner, he never would have let things get as far as they did.

Had it been winter—the cunt of the year, for lack of a better term—he would have let it get that far, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it, either.

But Autumn is drawing close. The gut. The time to trust his intuition, and he damn well knows it.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from his car crash eyes. Jungkook slips into the dull shadows of the room, right where he belongs. Was foolish of you to ever think otherwise.

"Do you mind?" you snap, but let yourself be dragged away regardless. Part of you hopes it'll make Jungkook do something. You're not sure what. Just something.

The man who is leading you astray is familiar. Recognisable. Park Jimin.

Though he's not aggressive, he definitely isn't gentle as he leads you out to the gardens. Lets go of your wrist by an overgrown shrub just beyond the benches that are made for drunken DMC's. He isn't after one of them. Wants the facts.

"Cut the bullshit," he says.

"No hello?" You chirp. "Nice to see you? Or better yet, an introduction?"

"You know who I am," Jimin tells you, expression flat. You hate that the arrogant fucker is right. "But I know fuck all about you, and apparently you're the reason Jungkook is walking around like death warmed up. So cut the bull. What happened?"

Frankly it's none of Jimin's business. Even if he's done you wrong, Jungkook trusted you. You're not gonna throw that back in his face and air his dirty laundry—especially not considering that Jimin is Jungkook's friend. If Jungkook wanted him to know, he'd have told him.

"Nothing," you tell him. "Barely even know him."

Jimin sighs. Jackson was right. There's a reason why you and Jungkook got along so well. Are both insufferable.

Glancing behind you, Jimin raises his brows.

You turn to face his line of vision, and fail to hide your surprise when you see Jungkook by the back door. Like a deer in headlights, he's frozen in place, his darling bambi eyes so startled he almost looks scared.

"So if you barely know him," Jimin continues as you and Jungkook stare one another out. "Why the fuck is he looking at you like he's seen a ghost?"

It takes a second or so, but you manage to pull your gaze away. Turn back to face Jimin. Shrug. Play dumb.

"Mistaken identity."

"Oh, I get it," Jimin smirks, knowing you aren't gonna give him an easy way out. Needs to bamboozle answers out of you. "You both went to the same bullshitting classes over summer? Is that it?"

You're surprised to find yourself smiling. Surprised that you find humour in Jimin's words. Surprised that you aren't rolling your eyes.

He's always been the Untouchable that has annoyed you the most. Is too loud. Laughs at the most obnoxious things.

"Top of the class," you reply because it somehow feels okay to joke with him. Perhaps spending so much time with Jungkook has lowered you Park Jimin-related intolerance. Not cured it, by any means, but definitely made it easier to manage.

"Academic rivals," Jimin supposes, realising that maybe there's a little more to you than he's ever given you credit for. "That's pretty hot."

"He seemed to think so," you lament, knowing that you're revealing a far more truthful rendition of your time spent with Jungkook. Or at least, admitting that time was spent together.

With a sigh, you walk a little further into the garden. Cross your arms. Look back over your shoulder to the door, only to find Jungkook is gone. It shouldn't upset you like it does, but you find your lips pressing together in a small pout.

"Look," Jimin says, exhaling a breath so deep you're sure his lungs must be empty. He comes to stand beside you, looking across the vast expanse of the gardens. "I'm not asking for your life story. If you don't give a shit about Kook, then that's fine, I'll leave you alone. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this."

Glancing at Jimin, there's a taut discomfort on your face. Guilt, almost—but you've not done anything wrong. It's on him. He's the one who chose for things to be this way.

"I give a shit," you quietly admit as you look back out towards the garden, then sigh out a pitiful laugh. "You know him. You know what he's like. Of course I give a shit."

Quite honestly you think it's impossible to not fall for Jungkook. He's everything you're hardwired to appreciate: hardworking, charming, incredibly funny. You lost count of how many nights dissolved into laughter with him. Had never known your cheeks to hurt so much.

He was gentle, too. Stroked his thumbs against your cheeks just as often as he made them ache.

It's your heart that's aching now, and he's not around to soothe your woes.

Back inside, Jungkook feels so viscerally unwell that he thinks he might be sick. Or maybe he's actually dying. One of the two.

This is everything he didn't want. You were supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a sanctuary away from this all.

You're in the thick of it, now. Jimin is grilling you, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do. It's too much. All of it. The party, the people, the fact that you look at him with ice in your eyes when he knows damn well they used to harbour the warmest of fires.

Beelining for the basement, he kind of hopes the ground will swallow him up. Stop him from making the bad decisions he seems to find so god damn irresistible.

As he yanks open the small fridge at the back of the basement, Jungkook doesn't care what he drinks. Just needs something to help soothe his fragile mine; to make him feel better, 'cause lord knows you won't.

Reaching for a beer, he doesn't ask around to see if it belongs to anyone. Finders keepers. He's an Untouchable. This place is basically his by birthright. No one is gonna argue against him.

But Kim Taehyung isn't just anyone.

"So, when you apologise for being a gargantuan pillock, are you planning on also trying to win her over? Or will you just clean your conscience and wipe yourself clean of her, too?"

Jungkook's jaw tenses as his teeth grit together. "Don't know what you're on about."

"Had a girl in tears at my dinner table earlier tonight," Taehyung exaggerates. Just wants Jungkook to feel as awful as he knows you do. "Your friends might not give a shit about your well-being, but I give a shit about mine."

And for some reason, this irks Jungkook. He gives a shit about you. Cares so much he's been torturing himself by staying away. Thinks it's better for you both.

If it truly was, neither of you would be feeling so gut-wrenchingly awful.

He knows you're angry. You've made that perfectly clear.

But he also knows you do cry when you're frustrated. Was a lesson learned when you were stressed over the diner roof leaking one night during the monsoons when no one else was in to help you fix it.

It was the first night he offered you a lift home. Had taken pity on you. Had also liaised with the college maintenance guy to check it out the next day, even if the diner wasn't technically part of campus.

Because Jungkook does give a shit about your well-being, and he refutes the claim that he doesn't.

"So what? You here to tell me to stay away?" Jungkook scoffs as he prizes off the cap of the bottle. Swigs down a sip. Then another, 'cause he's not wankered enough for this.

"I'm here to tell you that you're an asshole," Taehyung asserts. "She didn't deserve to be used by you for the summer and then tossed to the trash just because semesters starting up again."

The roll of Jungkook's eyes is so weighted that it almost feels as if they'll get lodged in the back of his skull. The last time they'd rolled that deep was in bed with you. Back then it was because his body was so divinely out of sync that his muscles couldn't keep up with his actions. This time, pleasure is the furthest thing away from how he's feeling.

"You want me nowhere near her, but the fact I'm staying away makes me an asshole?" Jungkook petulantly laughs. "Can't ever fuckin' win, can I?"

"This isn't about winning or losing," Taehyung argues back. "She trusted you."

Jungkook doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. He's not betrayed your trust. Has kept all your secrets. Tried his best to keep you secret, too.

"What was she to you, huh? Some project? A virginity to get under your belt? Something to pass the time—"

"I don't know who you think I am," Jungkook snaps, fed up being accused of something he's not. "But not once did I ever treat her badly, okay? I—" He cuts himself off. Doesn't know how to articulate himself. "We— Look, you just don't get it. You don't know me. I was nothing but fuckin' nice. Okay? And she was nice. And it was nice. And we..." He trails off. Realises what Taehyung said. "The fuck do you mean, 'virginity to get under your belt'?"

It's about now that Taehyung realises he's said too much.

But every cloud has a silver lining.

"Talk to her," Taehyung shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Not me."

He leaves a scowling Jungkook by the fridge. Heads to the stairs, and once he reaches the top, is yanked away by a small but mighty force.

"You," Jimin asserts. "With me. Now."

The sound of three knocks on the bathroom door serve as a signal: let me in.

A panicked text from Taehyung had practically begged you to go to the basement bathroom and wait for him there. Said there was drama that he needed to talk with you about.

And you believed him, 'cause you're a few too many drinks deep and honestly could do with the respite.

Perched up on the countertop by the sink, you reach over and unhook the latch, giving Taehyung the all clear to come on in. Your legs languidly swing and your shoulders are slumped, this party well and truly over for you.

The only reason you're still here is because you know Taehyung's secretly been revelling in his first Conservatory party. You fear he'll want to come every weekend, now.

"You better not have your cock out," a playful voice you know all too well jokes, as the door pushes open. Eyes closed as he enters, he shuts the door behind him. Asks, "Am I safe to open my eyes?"

You're gonna kill Taehyung. 

In the most loving but brutal way, you will absolutelymurder him for setting you up like this.

"Safe," you grimace.

Jungkook doesn't open his eyes. In fact, he presses them even tighter together. Frowns. "Jimin isn't in here, is he?"

"We've been bamboozled," you sigh, and as much as he doesn't want to, Jungkook smiles at your choice of words. Tips his head down, and open his eyes. Is a little too scared to look your way, for fear of being greeted with wrath.

"Their days are numbered," Jungkook assures you, quickly glancing across to try and work out how you're feeling.

"My sentiments exactly."

Jungkook goes to speak, but you both notice a grating metallic noise by the door. Immediately, Jungkook presses his hand down on the door handle, but there's absolutely no give. It won't budge

"Jimin," he calls, voice strong and domineering through the wooden panels. Hastily painted white, they're chipped and tarnished; covered in numbers and Instagram handles, rumours and declarations of love. It's not your first time locked in this bathroom with Jungkook, but the last was of your own choice. Had been you turning the lock with a smile and glint in your eyes that had promised him trouble. "Open it up."

"No can do," Jimins smugly sings from beyond the door. "Sort your shit out."

Hopping off the counter, you nudge in front of Jungkook to pound against the door with an open fist. Though he steps back, it's still the closest you've been with him since he left your bedroom a couple weeks ago. Part of you laments the fact he moved away from you. Part of him does, too.

"Tae," you try calling instead, hand banging on the door, but you're met with the exact same response.

"Figure it out," he calls back, but also adds, "And if he's still an insufferable asshole in five minutes time, I'll come let you out."

Despite everything, you laugh at this. Not so much because of Taehyung's words, but because Jungkook's face screws up like an old newspaper.

"What is it with him and calling me an asshole?" Jungkook mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.

The bathroom is small—just a toilet and sink built into a cabinet. There's a mirror covering the back wall over it, and another cabinet above it that you assume is filled with empty bottles and misplaced lipglosses. There's barely even enough room to breathe, although there is enough room to make Jeon Jungkook come undone in the least dignified of ways. You should know.

You wish you didn't.

"He calls you one because you are one," you assure him.

"Excuse me?" 

"What?" You scoff, hopping back up on the counter, your eyes on his 'cause you want to watch the way he gets nasty. Wanna remind yourself of how horrible he can be. Replace the memories of him in this bathroom, 'cause in all reality, they're actually really lovely. Nice, even. Warm. Everything you're trying to convince yourself he's not. "Gone deaf as well as turned into a massive prick?"

"Jesus Christ," he says, rolling his eyes, turning back to face the door. Shakes at the handle. "Give it a rest."

"Why?" You ask as if butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. "Would it make life easier for you if I just wasn't around?"

Jungkook knows what you're doing. Has bickered with you enough times to understand your tricks. This is how you start; put words in his mouth that he can't defend against.

And so he doesn't try.

"Yep," he declares, turning to face you. "Way easier. Can you tell your friend I'm an asshole, still? Get us out of this place?"

You recline in defiance. Perched up on the counter next to the basin, your back is against a mirror. Legs crossed, you're in the same white summer dress you wore to your first party at the Conservatory.

Nearly everyone had been away for the summer.

You had spent the evening tucked up together on an armchair meant for one, him in the seat, you perched on the armrest, feet in his lap.

"People will talk, y'know," you'd assured him, elbows on your knees, chin in your palms.

"So let them talk," he'd smirked. "What's there to say? We're just sitting?"

It was strange for him to be seen with you. Even Jackson has been confused, but let it slide 'cause another partygoer is another partygoer. He cared for numbers, not names.

"Dunno," you had teased. "Might start talking about the way you look at me."

"Yeah?" He'd husked as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gently pulled you closer.

"Yeah," you'd whispered, the sound of the music keeping your conversation obscure. "How long has it been that you've been looking at me for? A minute, already? Only one more until you fall in love, according to science."

"You tryna make me fall in love with you, Montgomery?"

"No," you'd innocently chirped, then pulled back. "Why? Were you?"

He'd shrugged. Sipped on his beer. "Guess we'll never know."

Looking at him now, you find it hard to believe he's the same person as he was back then.

"Why would I do that?" You feign naivety. "You're not an asshole?"

He doesn't reply. Knows you're going somewhere with this. Leans his back against the wall opposite you and folds his arms as if to say, go on.

"Assholes fuck people over," you state. "You'd never do that. And you'd definitely never spend your summer in some poor girls sheets and then pretend like she doesn't exist in front of your friends—"

"There is it," he confirms. Knew it was coming. Didn't expect you to actually try and speak about things like adults. So fuckin' childish.

"Oh?" You chirp. "So you're well aware of the fact you're an asshole? Good. Glad we have that one sorted out."

"Yep," he confirms, mouth drawing to a thin line.

The fact he isn't engaging in the fight infuriates you. Just proves he doesn't care. That he fucked you over for sport.

"I'm an asshole," he says, voice full of snark. "You know it, I know it. There's no reason why you should want to be around me. No reason why you should waste your time."

"It's so funny," you gasp in fake surprise. "I was thinking the exact same thing! Isn't it so great that you came to this conclusion after you already wasted months of my life?"

He's silent, now. Cowardly.

"Y'know I always knew you were an obnoxious prick," you say, voice now soberly quiet. "But I didn't think you were this cruel, Kook."

"You know that's not—"

"What?" You interrupt, voice growing louder with each question. "Not true? You woke up in my bed one morning, and then never spoke to me again. Who does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" He shouts, and it surprises you both.

Raking his hand through his hair as he turns away from you, Jungkook wishes he had an answer. Wishes he could explain himself in a way that made sense to you both. Instead, he harshly swallows down his anger. Turns to face you again. Looks like he might cry.

Feels like it, too. 

"Why didn't you tell me, huh?" He quietly asks.

"Tell you wha—"

"That you were a virgin."

Your previous thoughts about murdering Taehyung return. Of all the things he could have divulged to Jungkook, and that's what he chose?!

Men, you internally scoff. All fuckin' idiots.

"Hardly relevant, is it?"

"Of course it is," he snaps, turning back to face you. "If I'd have known—"

"You'd have what? Ghosted me sooner? Made it into a fun little competition?"

"I didn't ghost you."

"Gaslighting, too, now are we?" You scoff. "Hold on, let me go and get my bingo card. Things Jungkook does that are absolutely fucking infuriating. Wanna cross it off the list. It's right next to how fast you drive your car, and how much I hate your stupid fucking alarm tone."

"Well good job you never have to hear it again, isn't it?"

"Why not? 'Cause you are ghosting me?"

"No, because this is fuckin' stupid," he says, yanking on the door handle, on the off chance it will finally budge. It doesn't. "You think I'm the devil reincarnated. You don't want me, so why bother with this? This is done. Us. Whatever the fuck it was. You never trusted me in the first place. Would have told me if you did. So just call your friend, tell him I'm an asshole. We're done."

"Oh, well you're two weeks too late for this conversation, don't you think?" you argue back with a cold laugh. "But has it ever occurred to you that my life doesn't revolve around you? That you aren't the reason I'm here? Jackson invited me."

"Ah, so that's what it is?" Jungkook sarcastically exclaims, your insatiable need to fight finally sinking into his skin. "You were just using me, huh? Getting those V-plates off, so you could be ready for him? Is that why you didn't tell me? Huh?"

The mere thought of hooking up with the college's very own Hugh Hefner makes you wanna gag—but if it'll piss off Jungkook, maybe you'll consider it.

"Why would you care if I let him fuck me?" You ask with such pointed anger Jungkook can't help but feel like you're driving knives into his chest. "Do that thing you like with my tongue? You think he'd like my pussy, huh? Maybe I'd let him fuck me raw."

You never let Jungkook go unprotected. Insisted on it each and every time, and he complied even if he was a little pouty about it after you'd been fucking for a while. The trust was there. You were on the pill. He knew he was clean and had told you as such, but it made no difference.

To even suggest you'd let Jackson fuck you raw is laughable.

With a smirk on his lips, Jungkook edges towards you.

Put his hands on your crossed knees. Waits for you to jerk him away—but you don't. Instead, you watch on with salacious confusion. Say nothing. Not even when he uncrosses them, nor when he spreads them apart.

With a hand either side of your head against the mirror, Jungkook stands between your legs.

Looks down at you.

Is so close you can smell his aftershave.

A month ago, in a position like this, you'd have kissed him.

"Hm?" You cock your head. Repeat your question. "You think he'd like my pussy? How long do you think he'd take to cum? Longer than you, I hope."

Jaw tense, Jungkook swallows down the way he wants to curse you out. Closes his eyes. Lets his head dip further, his forehead now resting against the top of your head.

The contact is minimal, but God, you've missed it. Trapped in position by him, you'd forgotten how lovely it was to lose yourself to Jungkook.

"You're not being fair," he whispers. Whines, even.

"Fair?" You laugh, but it's gentle. Matches his tone. "You can hardly take the high ground on fairness, Jungkook."

He nods. Takes a second, and then pathetically begs: "Don't fuck him. Please."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You know why," he says. Stands straighter, now. Rakes a hand through his hair. Looks down on you with such pained desperation you almost feel bad. He tries to speak, but struggles with his words again. Takes him a few attempts to get anything out. "I didn't like you because I was fucking you. I fucked you because I liked you. You know that. You know it wasn't...Fuck. You know what it was."

The past tense he speaks in cuts you up inside.

Jungkook shrugs in defeat when he's met with silence. Purses his lips. Eyes on yours, they're glassy. Watery, almost.

Yours are just as bad, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? He's the one that cut you out. He did this.

"What did I do?" You ask, voice meagre and pathetic. Your vulnerability is mortifying, and yet you just can't help yourself as a tear streaks down your cheek. "What the fuck did I do that was so wrong, Kook?"

The heat of his hand scalds your skin as his thumb wipes away your tears. After his cold shoulder for the past two weeks, your body doesn't know how to respond. Should you be angry? Hurt? Comforted?

All you know is that you're more confused now than you ever were when you first started hooking up with him.

"Nothing," he quietly promises. Holds your cheeks in his hands. Rests his nose beside yours. Is far too close for a man who's been trying to stay away from you. Is beginning to realise that maybe his self-preservation was thinly veiled self-sabotage instead. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but it's been so fuckin' miserable, and then I didn't know how to fix things, and then it was all such a mess and—"

The words Jungkook is yet to speak are lost in the soft press of your lips against his.

Brows furrowed, Jungkook's grip on your face tightens. Keeps you close, 'cause he feels the pressure of your lips waning but doesn't want you to pull away.

And so you don't. Instead you apply more pressure. Harder. Deeper.

It's not like kissing Jungkook is a new experience. You've done it upwards of a thousand times, now. You know his lips and his tongue, and how it likes to flick against yours; his piercings, and the frequency of his moans that vibrate into your mouth.

Kissing Jungkook is just as easy as it is hard. Easy, in the way he takes not a single considered thought. Hard, in how it becomes your only tangible thought for minutes, hours, days afterwards.

An eternity and a millisecond is lost in the kiss, just like the summer that lasted an age and yet was gone with the wind.

When your lips finally part, there's silence. Forehead resting on yours, Jungkook shakes his head ever so gently. Doesn't know how to articulate his thoughts. How to say sorry, or how to fix his mess.

While his logic was flawed, and his execution careless, his intentions had been good. As much as he had a life to go back to, and friends that wouldn't get it, so did you.

He knows they hate him—isn't ignorant to the roll of Maria's eyes every time they walk into Montgomery's, and has experienced Taehyung's disdain first-hand this evening.

He'd spent his summer getting out of the house to avoid the fall-out of his father's infidelity. Knows how much his family is suffering all because of a man who just couldn't control himself. Was trying to be better. Trying not to wreck both of your lives.

As he stands in the dingy bathroom of a party house, the lingering burn of your lips on his still smouldering, he knows that he wrecked you both regardless.

And so it's up to him to put you back together again.

"I'm sorry," you say as you break the kiss, mortified at how stupid of an impulse it had been. You don't that. Not anymore. A month ago, sure, kissing Jungkook in a dingy bathroom at a party house would have been exciting. Now, it just feels embarrassing. "I shouldn't have—"

His lips are on yours again, stealing your words from you. He doesn't want to hear you apologise. Knows that you don't need to.  Also knows that he does need to.

"Don't," he quickly says between kisses. "Please, don't say sorry."

"But I—"

"Shut up," he smiles against your lips, shaking his head ever so slightly. He kisses you again, and this time it's soft. Pretty. Poetic, almost in how it makes you feel. And then he speaks, and you're reminded of just how easy it is to adore him, even when you know you shouldn't. "You know how much I've missed this? God, I've missed you so much. Please don't say sorry. I'm sorry. It's on me. I made a mistake, alright? I fucked up." 

He pulls back. Has your cheeks in his hands as he makes sure your eyes are on his. They're dark, now, in the dim light of the bathroom you're in, but they've never been warmer.

"I mean it. I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. Brows furrowed, lips pouty, he's got the kind of face you're hardwired to trust. To adore. Or maybe, it's just him, in general, that you're inclined to feel this way about. "Okay?"

His large hard hands are still holding your cheeks, as yours wrap around his wrists. With a shake of your head, you shrug. Pout, too.

An apology is appreciated, but it's just words. It's his actions that have been upsetting you. Not his words (or lack thereof).

"We're gonna leave this bathroom and you're gonna pretend like I don't exist again," you tell him.

The frown on his face deepens. "That's not true. And that's not what I was trying to do in the first place, either. I just thought—"

"What? That it was a good idea to kiss me on my doorstep and promise you'd pick me up from work, only to never show? To ignore my texts? To—"

"No," he quietly admits, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I made the wrong calls—but I can make it up to you. I want to make it up to you." He rests his forehead against yours. Quietly begs, "Please."

Slowly, Jungkook nudges his nose up against yours. Waits for permission.

Beyond the door, loud music thuds through the room. It obscures the conversation you've been having, keeping you just as secret as you always have been.

It's not like you told any of your friends, either, and when it came to telling Taehyung, you weren't exactly forthcoming. Perhaps you would have been the one to pretend like he didn't exist, had he not done it first.

"I want you," he husks against your lips. 

"You wanna fuck me," you correct him, lips tantalisingly brushing his with every word.

"True," he admits. "But I also wanna send you dumb memes again, and go for drives after work, and wake up in your bed. I wanna go for breakfast, and I still need to cook you my world-famous makguksu. I want to have not been a dick for the past two weeks, but I can't change that. I just wanna be what I once was to you again."

"And what was that?" You encourage.

There was never any label. Realistically, there's no right answer. 

Or at least there isn't, until Jungkook just simply says, "Yours."

And what else can you do when confronted by such a pathetic, yearnful admittance from him, except to give into how you're feeling, too?

Frantic in the way your hands are on his body—his arms, his waist, around his throat—there's a neediness to you. One he's missed. One he reciprocates, as his large palms stroke up your spread thighs, then get your legs wrapped around his hips.

The movements of your bodies are so well nurtured by now that you know what comes next; how the bulge in his trousers will press against your covered pussy, and how you'll whine at the contact no matter how minimal.

"Fuck," you whine as his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. It's an old routine at this point. He knows exactly where to go, what to do. His fingers press against the wet fabric of your underwear, just gently enough to make you moan a little harder into his mouth.

"Oh?" He smirks when he realises just how needy you are, his fingers stroking against your slick panties. "Missed me, too?"

"You're an asshole," you tell him with a smile. As his fingers get firmer, you can't help but whine. "You know I have."

He pulls back to look down at your body. Pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. Curses when he realises the underwear you're wearing. Is his favourite pair. Red and lacy, there's a suspender belt to match it. While you're not wearing it right now, he's got pictures of you in it that belong in a fuckin' museum.

"Did you wanna fuck me tonight, huh?" He mumbles into your lips.

"Not everything is about you," you say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Except it is. They're your favourite pair too, simply for how insanely he reacted to seeing you in them. Sure you're not in the full set up, but it was enough to have you feeling ever so confident as you left the house with Taehyung.

As his lips press against yours, his finger hooks beneath your underwear. Tugs them to the side. Gets you exposed for him.

"No?" He husks, as his fingers begin to sink between your soaked folds. "So this isn't about me, huh?"

You shake your head. Lie. "Never been less turned on."

He plays into your little theatrics. Has always enjoyed them.

"So you don't want me to do this?" He asks as his middle finger sinks into your entrance.

"Can't even feel it," you pretend, as if his thick knuckles aren't stroking against you in just the right way.

"No?" He grits. Sinks a second finger inside you. Gets you whining again, nails gripping onto his arms. His fingers slowly pump into you, easing you into the way it feels for him to be inside you.

There's something electric about Jungkook. Sends shivers through your spine. Always knew exactly how to manipulate your pussy into doing whatever he wanted, and now is no different. As you clench around him, he's overcome with satisfaction.

"This is just my fingers," he reminds you. "I don't think you can handle my cock."

Scoffing, you're desperately trying to pretend you aren't melting for him. "Please, I can handle it just fine."

"Sure you can, baby," he teases with so much arrogance you kinda wanna fight him again—but it's also why you like him. He challenges you. Gets your brain in overdrive.

And when he crouches in front of the counter, eyes aligned with your exposed cunt, you think you might actually lose it entirely.

His hands are on your thighs, spreading you further, getting a good look at the mess between your legs. When he sighs, the shallow breath that escapes his lips feels like absolute sin against your wetness.

"Oh, you really haven't been fucked since me, have you?" He teases again. "Look at how fucking keen you are. Been missing my cock, huh?"

"My vibrator's been doing the job just fine," you assure him, but it has him pulling back to cock a brow in your direction. He knows many things about you that other people don't, but he was not aware you owned any sex toys. Finds that his cock only throbs even harder in his pants at this revelation.

"Maybe so," he husks, leaning closer just so he drags his flat tongue up your folds. Has to stop himself from moaning, 'cause the taste of you is somehow even better than his memories. "But it's not better than me."

With a point to prove, and a desperation to reclaim you as his own, Jungkook doesn't entertain chitchat any longer. He dives back in, tongue lapping against your lips as his fingers push back inside you. The way he curls them just right as his tongue flicks against your clit is enough to make anyone lose their head.

Hands tangling in his hair, you find your body responding to him in the way it always does; pathetically, needily, hungrily. There's no dignity to be found.

His tongue works against you like a well trained craft, until his lips latch around your swollen bud and begin to lightly suck on it. When he hums in satisfaction—which he does often—the suction only grows stronger.

Gets you whimpering, "Like that. Fuck. Like that."

The build is just as undignified as you are. Your grip on his hair gets tighter, and the shake of your legs grows stronger. Dragging his tongue up and down your folds, he settles back on your clit. Flicks his pointed tongue against you until he knows you can't take it any longer and begins to suck again. Curves his fingers just right. Strokes you so gently that orgasm pours out of you like liquid gold. Guilds him into the most gorgeous aureate glow.

He doesn't ease. Keeps his lips wrapped around your clit. Makes sure you're spent.

When he finally releases you, he's breathing just as heavily as you are. Gets to his feet, fingers still plugged in your tight pussy. Is pleased to find you're just as insatiable as he is, pulling him in for the messiest of kisses as soon as you can. There's no care given for the fact he's covered in your arousal. You just want that tongue of his in your mouth—and when it is, you find yourself moaning from the withdrawal of his fingers.

Your hands reach to the waistband of his jeans to unhook his button. Get his zipper down. Your hands down the front of his trousers, when his thick cock is restricted by his tight boxer briefs. By the tip of his cock, a small wet patch resides; his desperation for you obvious. Gently rubbing your thumb across the pre-cum, all you can think about is his slit, and how you wanna kitten lick across it.

But it's been two weeks of near-constant pining, and all Jungkook wants is to bury himself inside you.

"Let me fuck you," he begs. "Please, baby."

If the girl who had first seen Jungkook in a shared lecture hall two years ago would have known she'd end up in a shitty bathroom with him begging for her, she'd have laughed. Wouldn't have believed it for a second.

Fresh-faced and so out of your comfort zone, the first few days at university were full of potential. It was before you had wised up to your place in the pecking order; when Jungkook was just a boy in your orientation class.

Skin kissed by European sun, there had been a radiance to him that seemed to captivate just about everyone. You weren't the only girl who had been sneaking glances his way.

You'd thought about him a lot in those first few weeks. Came to learn of his family ties around the same time you befriended Taehyung. Stopped seeing him around campus so much, and rarely ever thought of him.

But on those rare occasions you crossed paths, your gaze would always linger.

As he frees himself of his boxers, trousers suspended midway down his thighs, he gently rubs the tip of his cock between your folds and husks, "Always thought you were so pretty, y'know?"

Looking up at you for just a second, he smirks. Looks back down. Continues to rub himself against you, prepping himself with your slickness.

"Freshers week," he continues. "You never came to any of the parties."

The tip of his cock kisses your entrance, but doesn't penetrate. You stay in limbo just shy of what you both want.

"Had a stupid fuckin' crush on you," he admits. Has never acknowledged it before, but has always known. Kept it hidden. Safe. Secret.

"No, you didn't," you smile. He didn't even give you a second glance. Was always you seeking him out in lecture halls.

"I did," he says with absolute certainty. "You wore that little black sundress on our first day. Had ruffles on the shoulders."

It hangs in your wardrobe, a little out of style but still sweet in the right setting. You know the exact one he's talking about, because he's right. You did wear it on that very first day.

His cock nudges a little deeper. Enough to make you gasp, but not moan. Not yet. Gripping his arms, brows furrowed, you nod. He sinks himself just a little bit further. The feeling is overwhelming; fire on ice.

"Would have fucked you in that lecture hall, if you'd have let me," he smirks.

"You didn't even know my name," you counter, but he cuts your questioning off as he edges a little deeper, still. His hand dips to gently rub languid circles on your clit. He's not pushing himself any further, not yet. Wants to ease into how this feels.

"I did," he admits. "Listened extra hard during the roll call."

"So this has all been some big elaborate scheme to get into my pants, huh?"

"Is it working?" he jokes, leaning over to yank the cabinet above the sink open. A few random bottles and packets clatter into the sink, but he doesn't care.

He's looking on the top shelf, rifling through old boxes, sending more miscellaneous objects to their untimely demise. Spotting what he's after, he's assertive as he knocks the cabinet shut. Passes you the box.

"S'all there is. They alright?"

"Sure," you say, pulling one of the foil packets from the box. You check the date stamped on the front—only to see it's a year out of date. Some protection would be better than none, regardless of the date, but fuck it. You're on the pill. "You haven't fucked anyone else? In the last couple weeks?"

"What?" His brows contort in confusion. "No."

His expression softens, but is still laced with confusion when you toss the box of condoms down into the sink.

"I don't care. I don't want them—"

You're cut off by the way Jungkook clasps your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. There's a seriousness to him now; the same demeanour he holds himself with when he was taking photographs. He's intentional. Assertive.

"Promise me," he says with stern certainty. "You want this?"

When he's got you like this—legs spread, body his to claim, your soul to take—it's impossible to do anything but comply. See, things with Jungkook are reciprocal. Your feelings, your tortured misunderstanding of how a relationship could ever work, and his seriousness, now, too.

"I promise," you swear.

As a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his hands stroke down your spread thighs, pushing you a little further open for him.

"Can't unfuck me," he softly reminds you. Is taking his time not for the anticipation, but because he's scared. "If you fuck me raw—"

"Then I fuck you raw," you simply repeat, knowing that it's up to you to ease his woes. If anyone should be scared, it's you—yet there's a safety that comes with being with Jungkook. Smirk, then say, "Trust me. I know I can't unfuck you. I've been trying to forget—"

"Ouch," he laughs, nudging his nose up against yours.

"—but you're just..." you tailed off, not wanting to compliment him too highly. He's still in the dog house. "Memorable."

With a sardonic smile that he knows only means trouble, you reach down to grip his incredibly pert ass cheeks. Squeezing, just because you can, you encourage him to push even deeper into you—and he's the one who whines, now.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he praises with such pained desperation it almost sounds like he'll cry. He won't. It's just that he can't quite believe that he's raw inside you right now, and that you feel just as good as he always imagined. Better, even.

"Yeah?" You question, as you pull his hips closer, gasping as he finally sinks his full length into you once more. His fingers were thick, but they've got nothing on his cock. Like he's taken all the air from your lungs, your voice is all light and airy. Makes Jungkook even more insane.

"Yeah," he mumbles as he nods into a kiss that is just as feverant as his need to pulse his hips. He doesn't dare do it yet. Is waiting for you. "Feels so fuckin' good."

"So just fuck me," you hungrily moan into his lips.

You're challenging him deliberately, and it works a fucking treat when he pulls back with a grin. He doesn't withdraw himself, but he does pulse his hips ever so slightly. Keeps you plugged. Is just nudging even deeper into you as he keeps a hold on your thighs, keeping them spread nice and wide.

"Say please," he grunts as his pulsing becomes a singular deep thrust.

Your argumentative streak wants to fight.

You'll berate yourself later for the way you whimper, "Please."

His thick cock withdraws just a little to push back into you. He groans. Curses. Builds momentum. Speed.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours as he pounds himself into you is impossible to ignore. Your moans build. Double. Treble. He's grunting too, and then his lips are on your neck. It's a mess, quite frankly.

In the sordid shadows of this bathroom, your bodies become acquainted with an intimacy not yet bridged before. You can pretend to ignore each other in the hallways of your shared lecture buildings, but you'll never be able to ignore the desperation you have for one another. Jungkook was right. You can't unfuck him. And now he's fucking you raw, it only make it even more potent.

Harshly pulling himself out of you, Jungkook almost fuckin' cums on the spot when he realises how soaked he is from your arousal. It's not like it's a new thing, but skin on skin, it's so much more intense. Gasping from the sudden loss of pressure, you're a little unsteady. Lurch forward as if your body could stop him from withdrawing.

Holding the base of his thick shaft, Jungkook spanks against your pussy with his cock. Rubs your slick wetness around with his tip. Hooks his elbows under your thighs. Pulls you closer. Instructs, "Arms around my neck."

Wrapping an arm around your back, the other one tucks under your ass as he lifts you.

He turns. Presses your back to the wall, and lines himself up.

"Legs around me," he tells you, and as soon as you do, his cock pushes up into you again. He keeps you pinned against the wall as he begins to fuck himself into you, his lips pressing wet kisses to the curve of your neck.

The sight in the mirror behind him is lethal; his broad back covered by his shirt, but it doesn't matter. You know what he looks like. Know his muscles, and the valley of his spine, like the back of your own damn hand.

You wanna see it though. Give it a tug. Send him the right message. Get him tearing his shirt off and dropping it to the floor for you. Victory is so damn sweet.

"Kook," you whine as he really begins to get deep. "You're gonna make me cum."

"All over my cock, huh?" He grunts. "Gonna cum on cock, are you?"

His taunting only makes you whimper even more. "I'm so close."

And because he just likes to get you all whiney and needy, Jungkook stops. Puts you down. Gets you facing the mirror as you protest his unfair stealing of an orgasm.

But then he's lining himself up again, getting ready to take you from behind. Spanks your ass ever so quickly.

Sinking into you again, Jungkook curses. "Tighter like this."

"Good?" You pathetically check, and Jungkook can't help but think it's sweet.

"Yeah, babe," he promises, and pretends as if it's completely usual for him to speak to you so tenderly. "Feels so fuckin' good. Missed you so much, gorgeous. You and this tight cunt."

"Romance," you joke through your needy whines. He smirks at this, and delivers a curt little spank to your ass.

"I can be romantic," he assures you, as if you aren't being soundtracked by the sound of your skin slapping together, his thick cock fucking itself into your soaked hole. 

His eyes rise from the steady gaze he'd had on your ass to your eyes. 

Slowing himself, Jungkook holds his cock inside you without thrusting. Says, "I made that photo you took of us in your room my fuckin' phone wallpaper. I listen to that asmr guy you like before bed, every single fuckin' night. I keep one of your ribbons tied around my gearstick. That romantic enough for you?"

There's an incredibly bashful smile on your pretty face, which contradicts the way in which your pussy is tightening around him in the most lewd of ways. You're giggling when you say, "Shut up and fuck me."

But then he's giggling too, just how you like him to be. Says, "I missed your body, but I missed you more. Stupid."

"You're stupid."

"You're stupider."

"Kook," you laugh, as he's completely forgotten the task at hand. The way that he looks at you, you'd be forgiven for thinking he has. Truthfully, the connection he has with you is so much more than what sex has ever been for him before. 

His hips lightly pulse, as he says, "Sorry. Where were we?"

"Think you were gonna make me cum."

"Ah, yeah. That. My bad."

His gentle thrusts begin to build pace once more. The grin on his face drops a little as he begins to concentrate on you. Watching him in the mirror, you're perplexed to be reminded of just how ethereal Jungkook looks when he fucks.

The deep ridge between his brows intensifies, as his mouth hands slack. His cheeks hollow a little, and his eyes remain entirely focused. Dark. Deep. Brooding.

As his hand dips around to gently stroke against your clit, Jungkook is just as taken away by the way you look. He isn't sure what it is that gets his heart so heavy in his chest, but he knows that he wants you to cum. Doesn't give a fuck about himself.

The walls of your cunt begin to tighten around his length as your moans deepen. You whine his name and he encourages a response, but neither of you can really talk. A numbness is washing over you, your balance unsteady.

"I'm gonna..." you begin, but find it impossible to finish.

"I know, baby," he nods all out of breath and desperately fucked out. "Give me what I want. Cum for me."

You trust and keep your eyes on him, but the nudging on his cock against your g-spot and the slow rubbing of your clit is just enough to tip you over.

"Kook," you whimper as your walls begin to tighten around him, but it's fruitless. There's a shake to your legs, and he's the only thing keeping you supported.

"Oh, fuck," he curses from the strength of your pussy around him. He's shaking just as much as you are. "Cream on this cock, baby. Oh, fuck. Yeah.Just like that. You're gonna make me cum, too. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard. All in your pussy. You want that, huh?"

It's as you're desperately whining, cumming all around his thick shaft that Jungkook feels his body lose control. There's a tightness to his balls, and a shudder to his sternum, that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your bedroom. Last time he was in you, more specifically.

"Kook," you whimper his name, and that's when Jungkook really can't hold back.

"Yeah, babe," he rasps, as his hard thrusts become pathetic stutters. "I'm cumming."

The announcement isn't needed, for you swear you can almost feel it as his thick cum begins to fill you. The lack of a condom makes it all the more primal, the way his body shudders indicative of just how much cum he's filling you up with. 

His body collapses on yours a little, his clammy torso pressed to your back. The dress you're wearing is barely on properly, and the feeling of his skin against yours is catastrophic. As intimate as sex is, it's this right now, the beat of his heart thrumming against your spine that is the real disaster. How you can ever look him in the eye again is beyond you.

But then his lips are pressing chaste kisses to the curve of your neck, and his hands are squeezing at your hips. He doesn't pull out. Keeps himself warm inside you. Says, "How the fuck am I ever supposed to give you up, huh?"

That's the thing.

He isn't supposed to, and you damn well know it.

Reaching back for some tissue to help you out, Jungkook slowly withdraws. Holds his hand beneath your pussy, then replaces it with tissue. Turns you around and lets you take over.

"Here's a radical idea," you offer, not looking at him as you quickly make sure you're decent. Stay standing with your legs crossed, just in case. "Don't."

Pulling his shirt back over his head, Jungkook presses his back to the wall. There's a distance between you, yes, but you don't really feel it, 'cause it's purely physical.

And it's not like it lasts for very long either, 'cause Jungkook decides he needs to kiss you all over again.

"Alright," he whispers against your lips. "Say we don't. Say I wanna be yours. What the fuck do we do now?"

You shrug. The answers aren't yours to decide. It's up to you both.

"Well, firstly I'm gonna text Tae," you hum. "Tell him you're still an asshole and that I need to be let out immediately."

It's been half an hour.

He came to check on things about ten minutes ago.

The music might be loud, but not loud enough to drown out the way you guys fuck. 

Summer had been quiet. In his car, in your empty house, you've never had to keep it down before. Didn't even realise quite how loud you were being.

Which is why Jimin is the one who unlocks the outside bolt with a smirk a few minutes later, Taehyung watching on with a little disgusted grimace a metre or so back.

"Gross," he whisper shouts at you, but then he's smiling, too. Notices how Jungkook touches you—the hand he has on the small of your back, and the way he clasps your hand as you begin to walk ahead of him—and finds it impossible to be mad.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, leading you up and out of the basement. "We're going to the diner."

"We?" You question, incredibly confused.

"We." He simply says. Doesn't leave it up for debate. Gathers up the rest of the Untouchables (though Claudia is noticeably absent), and tells them the same thing he told you. Drags Taehyung along as well.

Jungkook was scared of integrating you into his life, but there's no other way to do it. Has to rip the band aid off.

As you walk into Montgomery's, hand in hand with the boy who had spent his summer wasting away with you in here, both of you realise that maybe it isn't such a huge deal.

Or at least, you do until Maria clocks you. Eyes darting from you, to Jungkook, and then to your gently clasped hands, she's in a state of absolute shock. Almost drops her tray.

"Sorry, what the fuck?!"

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Summary: Your pack is back home, but things aren't quite as good as you try to make them seem. Some truths get revealed, while others remain in the dark.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,337 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, '09 Ghost's backstory, mentioned abuse/child abuse, still pretty heavy emotionally, language, finally some of the comfort after the hurt, plenty of fluff

A/N: This stupid fic making me cry again. I may have lied about this one not being quite as heavy as the others...it's still pretty heavy, but there are some sweet moments in there too. There is a bit of a time jump in the middle, it's roughly a week long or so. Not much, but it does cut ahead a bit just for the sake of plot and moving things along. Also yeah, I got it done earlier than expected.

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You’re warm. Sweat has begun to form in the creases of your body. You’re wrapped around something solid, something contributing to the intense warmth. The smell of leather and eucalyptus fills your nose as you nuzzle your face against soft fabric. It sends a shiver down your spine despite the heat, your eyes fluttering open. You’re staring at a blurry mass of black fabric, your brain beginning to catch up as you become more and more aware. 

Leather. Eucalyptus. Something distinctly alpha. 

Fuck. 

You’re spooning Ghost. 

He has to be asleep, otherwise he would never let you get so close to him. He would have shoved you off, pushed you back towards Johnny, who you’ve traded places with in the middle of the night. You must have gotten too hot sandwiched between the two betas and tried to escape somewhere cooler. That led to you spooning with Ghost, not that he’s much cooler than the betas. 

You can get away before he wakes up, remove yourself from his personal space before he realizes and forces you away. Avoid the shame and embarrassment of his rejection, his anger at you for crossing that boundary, even just in your sleep. Despite the fact you know that boundary is there, despite the fact you did it unintentionally, you’re not sure you could handle such a rejection right now, even from him. 

You slowly begin to withdraw your arm from around his middle, sliding it back towards your body. If you go slow enough, you should be able to untangle yourself from around him without waking him and avoid a confrontation. 

A quiet gasp is pulled from your lips as his hand wraps around your wrist, keeping you from moving. 

“Don’t.” He says quietly. 

Your heart is thudding in your chest as he tugs your arm back around him, keeping you where you are. Your exhale is shaky as you slowly relax, pressing your face against his back again. You’re not sure what to do. You were expecting him to push you away, get up in disgust and leave because you got too close, you pushed past the barrier he had placed around himself when it came to you. A barrier that got let down only while you’re training, then it’s put right back up as soon as you’re finished. Now here you are, spooning him after sleeping in the same room, the same nest. 

You wouldn’t have taken him for being a little spoon type. 

Your eyes begin to droop again as you lay there, breathing in Ghost’s scent. It’s like a comforting blanket, lulling you into a sense of relaxation, of safety, something you haven’t felt in days. For the first time your mind is quiet, not panicking about what happened, or what could happen. You don’t have to worry about your pack now, because they’re here with you again. 

You drift off to sleep again for a while, sleeping soundly in the cocoon of safety your pack has provided for you. 

You wake a while later, sticky with sweat. Your back is pressed against Ghost’s, and there’s something draped across your face. You push it away, blinking your eyes open. Johnny has starfished across the nest on his back, his mouth open as he snores. He’s stolen your bear, one arm holding it against his chest, and the other arm had been what was draped across your face. Kyle is curled up on his other side, having moved from the middle to the far side of the nest. John is missing, making your brows furrow. 

You push yourself up to sit, the air in the room almost like a sauna. You rub your eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. That might have been the best sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. It was likely the exhaustion taking its toll, paired with your brain finally being able to relax while surrounded by your pack.

You feel like you could lay down and sleep for another ten hours. 

You’re warm, though, sweat causing your clothes to stick to your skin. The blankets have all been kicked to the end of the mattresses, likely ditched early on in the night. You wiggle out of your sweatpants, kicking them off the end of the mattress as well, leaving you in a baggy shirt that you think is Johnny’s. 

You feel suddenly exposed sitting there, your eyes flicking around the room as a chill runs down your spine. John would have noticed if something was out of place, but he could have just brushed it off as you in his room. He had given you permission to be in his space while he was gone, if you needed to. One of them would have noticed if things were out of place in their rooms. Ghost would likely notice, since you haven’t been in his room at all. 

You lay back down on your back, staring up at the vent on the ceiling. The cover is in place, and no matter how hard you look, you can’t see a camera hiding in the gaps. It doesn’t ease your worry any as you stare up at it, wishing you had your phone so you could at least try to look for one. Though, perhaps it was better you didn’t have your phone with you. You hadn’t been brave enough to pop it open and look for anything strange hidden inside, though you wouldn’t even know where to begin to look, or what to look for. 

You should tell them. What if someone is watching you right now? 

You flinch as John appears in the doorway suddenly, five water bottles tucked against his chest. Your skin is crawling from the thought of someone watching, someone listening in on such a private moment with you and your pack. You hadn’t even thought about it last night, the stress and your fear had taken over your mind. You push yourself back up to sit as John passes Ghost a water bottle, handing one to you as well. You unscrew the cap as John places the other bottles on his desk. Johnny and Kyle still asleep, unaware of the world. 

Unaware of the danger. 

A cold shiver slips down your spine as you gulp down the water. What if someone had entered the barracks last night? You weren’t in your room, and the door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have just walked in and put up cameras again easily. 

One of the guys would have heard someone snooping around, right? You were so out of it you likely would have slept through one of them getting up. What if they were also so exhausted from their deployment they could have slept through someone breaching their space as well. Did Ghost lock the door last night? You can’t remember. 

“Alright, sweetheart?” 

Your head snaps up to where John is leaning against his desk. His brows are slightly furrowed as he stares at you, and you realize you’ve been projecting your scent. With them gone, you didn't have to worry as much. You could stink up a room without a care. It just meant more protection for you. Now that they’re back, though, you have to be more careful. You can’t just go panicking over nothing, not that you should have to panic while they’re here. 

That’s their job, right? Protect the omega? 

They can’t protect you if they don’t know there’s a threat in the first place. 

“Yeah.” You say, gulping down more water to think up an excuse quickly. “Thought I might be dreaming for a moment, that you didn't really come back.” 

John approaches you slowly, kneeling down on the end of the mattress with a quiet sigh. He has to be sore after their deployment. You can tell just by the way he’s holding his shoulders, by the stiffness in the way he moves. You can’t even begin to imagine the kinds of things they did, the kinds of things they went through over the last week. 

John takes your hand, pressing it against his chest. He’s warm underneath the shirt, and you can feel the steady beating of his heart under your palm. “We’re real.” He says, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he holds it against his chest. “We’re really here.” 

You stare at his hand where it covers yours. You’ve seen it before, many times. Scarred and rough with calluses. His knuckles are dry and just slightly bruised. Did he punch someone? Or maybe he hit it against something else. 

His hand moves, snapping you out of your thoughts. You fight the urge to flinch as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “You’re thinking too much.” 

You swallow thickly. “Well, I didn’t have much to do this last week besides think.” 

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “We’ll try to make life more interesting for you, then.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get these two muppets up for breakfast.” 

He pushes himself back up to stand, staring down at Johnny and Kyle, still sleeping. You shift onto your hands and knees, crawling over to Johnny before swinging a leg over to straddle his stomach. You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his face, his breath catching as he begins to wake up, sensing a disturbance. You stare down at him, watching his eyes flutter before they crack open. The haze of sleep leaves his blue eyes, clarity coming back to him quickly as his lips begin to lift in a grin as he stares up at you. 

“Didnae expect tae wake up to such a sight.” He says, voice thick with sleep as his hands come to rest on your bare thighs. “A beautiful woman on top of me? I must’ve died and gone tae heaven in my sleep.” 

“Even better,” You say, leaning down closer. “Because I’m real.” 

“That ye are.” He says, slowly dragging his hands up your legs, pushing the shirt up as he goes. 

Ghost pushes himself off the mattress, leaving the room so quickly he nearly knocks his shoulder against the doorframe. A frown pulls at your brows as you watch him go, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit on Johnny’s stomach. Guilt starts to well up in you as you stare at the empty doorway. You hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable. 

“Don’t mind him, kitten.” Johnny says, pushing himself up to sit, sliding you backwards into his lap. “He’s still miffed he didn’t get a greetin’ yesterday.” 

“Oh,” You say, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t even thought about greeting Ghost in that moment. You had been so desperate for your alpha, and then swept up by the betas, it hadn’t even crossed your mind to acknowledge Ghost. “I didn’t-” 

“It’s not yer fault.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you. “He hasnae been the most...open with ye. It’s his own damn fault for it.” 

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to give him a big hug when he comes back in.” You say. 

“Please do.” Kyle says, rubbing his eyes where he’s laying next to you. “I’ll pay to see his reaction.” 

All three of you burst out laughing, Johnny pressing his forehead against yours. “Missed ye, kitten.” 

“Not as much as I missed you.” You say, pouting. 

Johnny chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His hands slide to your hips as he presses another soft kiss to your lips, and then another. 

“Let me get in on some of that.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to sit. He grips your chin in his hand, turning your face to his before pressing his lips to yours. 

His kiss takes your breath away, deeper and more passionate than Johnny’s had been. You hum against his lips as Johnny’s grip on your waist tightens. 

“Christ almighty.” Johnny breathes, staring at you and Kyle as you kiss. 

“Alright, you three.” John says as the air in the room starts to turn musky with arousal. “Let’s feed our omega first before we get too carried away.” 

Kyle pulls away from you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“Can we...eat in here again?” You ask, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s shoulders as you turn slightly to look up at John. You had almost forgotten about his presence, caught up in the attention from your betas. The thought of him watching the three of you has a different kind of thrill racing down your spine. 

“Of course.” John says, bending down to kiss you. 

Both Johnny and Kyle groan at the sight of their pack alpha kissing you, Johnny’s cock twitching in his boxers beneath you. You press a kiss to Johnny’s cheek after John pulls away from you before pushing yourself up to stand. You stretch your arms over your head, the shirt riding up a bit, giving both Kyle and Johnny a good view of your legs. The musky scent of arousal intensifies in the air as they stare at you, Johnny licking his lips hungrily. 

“Alright, get out of here you cheeky little minx, otherwise they’ll never get out of bed.” John says, gently guiding you from the room. 

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you leave John’s room, stepping out into the hallway. It’s much cooler outside of the room, goosebumps forming on your legs. You have half a mind to go back to your own room, but you find yourself unable to even approach the door. Memories of the fear and your panic come flooding back, the thought that someone might have snuck inside, someone might be waiting for you in there snapping to the front of your mind. It’s a ridiculous thought. Someone would have noticed if there was an intruder, if there was someone who shouldn’t be inside creeping around. 

Your gaze flickers from your door as Ghost makes his way down the hallway, his clothes changed from what he’d been wearing to sleep in. You bite your lip as you stare at him, meeting his gaze. Perhaps it's the fear driving you forward, or maybe you’ve gone slightly crazy in their absence, but you find yourself approaching him, making him stop in his tracks. 

He eyes you as you approach, your steps quick as you try to avoid chickening out. Your mind is repeating Johnny’s words over and over in your head, an explanation for Ghost’s behavior yesterday, and obvious annoyance at you and Johnny this morning. You wonder if he’ll take it as a threat as you get closer to him, if he might snap and defend himself. He’s completely still, not even his chest moving. He’s watching you like a predator watches its prey, waiting for your next move. 

It’s like hugging a tree as you wrap your arms around his waist. He’s stiffer than a board as you hug him, resting your face on his chest. Leather and eucalyptus and musk all float around you as you press close to him, his scent enveloping you in a hug, even if his body doesn’t follow suit. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Hugging you.” You say, tightening your hold around him. You’ve been this close to him before in your training, but this feels different. “I’m sorry for not greeting you on the tarmac. I wasn’t really thinking clearly at that point.” 

He lets out a quiet sigh, something you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to him. You can imagine it’s a sigh of exasperation at Johnny for spilling about his feelings. “It’s fine.” He says, awkwardly patting your back. “Don’t know why you would have wanted to.” 

“Well, you are part of the pack.” You say. “That should be enough reason.” 

You nuzzle your face against his chest, his scent going straight to the back of your brain. Your omega wants to roll in it, cover herself in it until it’s all you can smell. The intensity of his scent has something in your hindbrain purring, the sound rumbling through your chest. 

Ghost puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back from him. You blink up at him blearily as your mind begins to clear a bit with the distance. “At least put some pants on before you completely lose it.” He grumbles. 

A small smile tugs at your lips before it falls at the thought of having to go into your room. You turn to face the door, your vision almost tunneling as you stare at it. You don’t want to open it. You don’t want to go in there. 

“Ghost?” You say quietly before he can walk away. 

He turns to look at you, his eyes squinting just slightly as he frowns. “What?” 

“Will you...will you open my door for me?” You shift your weight, knowing he’s going to want a reason, an explanation for your behavior. 

He turns fully to face you, shoulders squared as he slowly approaches, suddenly on the defensive. “What is it?” 

You shake your head. “Just a feeling.” 

He steps between you and the door, wrapping his fingers around the handle before he swings it open, scanning the inside. His shoulders relax just slightly and you let out a breath of air. There’s no one inside. No one’s waiting for you. No one broke in last night. 

He takes a step back before turning to you. “Nothing.” 

You let out a sigh of relief, staring into the space that was once your nest, your safe place. You can feel Ghost’s eyes on you, waiting for an explanation for your behavior. You can’t tell him the truth, despite how easy it would be. You could confess right now, admit to what happened, what you did, the mistake you made. You could drop to your knees right now, beg for forgiveness for what you did. 

“It was hard...while everyone was gone.” You say. It’s not a lie. Not entirely. “Made me uneasy, being alone here. Kept thinking I was hearing things.” 

He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in his eyes. He knows your lying, he knows you’re withholding the truth from him. You aren’t, you just aren’t giving him the whole truth. You had felt lonely, you had been on edge even before General Shepherd arrived and your room was bugged. Being alone was hard. Harder than you thought it would be. It would have taken its toll on you, even without the stress of your space being invaded multiple times. 

You should have told someone. You should have called Dr. Keller right away. You should have never opened the door in the first place. 

“Thank you.” You say, slipping past him and entering your room. 

He stands there for a few breaths, watching you warily as you open your closet, looking for something to wear. You ignore him, acting like he’s not there, but you can’t hide the squaring of your shoulders, the stiffness of your movements. You’re not sure you could resist if he pressed, if he tried to force you to tell him. You’d spill immediately, even without him using his alpha against you. 

The thought has another chill racing down your spine. 

Your omega is on edge as you change with the door open, not caring as the guys move around, getting dressed to head out to grab breakfast for everyone. You hate how inconvenient it must be, but you still don’t think you could handle being in the mess. Not yet. Not so soon. You’ll have to eventually, otherwise they’ll think something is up, happened, and then they’ll start questioning. 

You couldn’t handle an interrogation. Especially not their disappointed and angry faces when you confess to what you did, the mistakes you made, how you allowed someone to walk in so easily. How you left so easily with a stranger. They’d never trust you again. 

They won’t trust you if you keep things from them either. 

They have to know. They have to know General Shepherd came to base and talked to you. They have to know about you meeting their superior while they were away. A high ranking General couldn’t just be on base without someone knowing, and why would he hide it? He had come to check in on your progress and how you were settling in with your pack. He would have included your pack in that questioning as well, right? Besides, there has to be cameras everywhere on base. Someone would have seen you and let them know. 

There’s no way they don’t know about it. 

You stand in the doorway of your bathroom, staring at the cabinet where the broken cameras and recording devices are hidden. They’re broken, you ensured that. They’re hidden away, buried under enough stuff no one could find them unless they were purposefully looking for something. 

You let out a breath, trying to relax as you finish your morning routine. It’s over. There’s nothing that can be done now. All you can do is try to move on, try to mend the fraying bonds with your pack, heal the sense of fear and unease surrounding your safe space. 

Maybe Dr. Keller could help. You could admit everything to her, everything that happened while she was supposed to be watching you. If you had just gone to her office that afternoon, perhaps things would have been different. She would have known, but that wouldn’t have stopped the cameras from being put up. It would have just made it easier for them. Maybe they might have finished the job properly, and you wouldn’t have even known. Even if you had called Dr. Keller, what kind of argument could she have made against a Commanding Officer? 

If you told Dr. Keller now, she’d tell your pack. She’s promised to keep everything between you confidential, but would something like this be an exception? Would she tell your pack anyway because she thinks it’s the best course of action to help you? 

You want to cry. Tears are welling in your eyes as you stare in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself. You look tired, strung out, sickly almost. Are you not, though? Is that not how you feel? You know omegas can get sick from stress sometimes, if it gets to be too much. You don’t want to get sick. You don’t want to be more of a burden than you’re already being. They have to be so tired after their assignment, and here you are making things harder for them. 

“You alright, love?” 

You jump, letting out a shriek as you whip around to face the door of your room. Your heart is racing as you slap a hand over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at an equally surprised Kyle. You let out a breath, slowly lowering your trembling hand as you try to calm yourself. It’s just Kyle sneaking up on you. Not a stranger. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He says, brows pinching in a frown. 

“‘S okay.” You murmur, turning off the light before leaving the bathroom. “Was lost in thought.” 

“The others left to grab food.” Kyle says. “They’ll be back shortly.” 

You nod, trying hard not to make your trembling too visible, or give any hint at your discomfort. “Okay.” 

You stare at him as he leans against the doorframe. He hasn’t entered your room. He’s still standing in the doorway. The thought has a lump forming in your throat. Your bonds have frayed so much he doesn’t even feel comfortable entering your space anymore. There’s a wall up again, and you’re only forcing it higher and higher. 

“Come on.” He says, holding his hand out to you. “Let’s go to the rec room.” 

You take his offered hand, letting him pull you from your room. The door clicks closed behind you as you let him lead you down the hallway and away from the place that’s become fuel for your nightmares. 

Kyle sits down on the couch, pulling you down on his lap. You wrap your arm around his neck as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth and scent. 

“I’m sorry for startling you.” He says softly, bringing your other hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to your wrist. 

“It’s not your fault.” You say, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Been on edge since everyone left.” 

“I bet.” Kyle leans his cheek against the top of your head. “We’re here now. We’re gonna fix that.” 

“What happens when you have to leave again?” You ask. 

“You won’t be alone again, that’s for sure.” A different voice says. 

You nearly jump out of Kyle’s lap as John appears in the doorway of the rec room, Johnny and Ghost right behind him. Kyle’s arms are the only thing keeping you steady as your heart nearly beats out of your chest. You’re not sure how much more you can take, intentionally or unintentionally. 

“I spoke with Kate this morning.” John says as he sets the food he’s carrying on the coffee table. “We’re going to do everything in our power to avoid having you left alone again. At least one of us will be staying behind with you from now on.” 

Your brows pinch a little. Is that why he had been absent from the nest earlier? You’re not quite sure what to feel. On one hand you’re relieved at the thought of not having to be alone again, but on the other hand, you don’t want to disrupt their lives, their jobs. You wonder just how hard he had to fight to even get Kate to agree to something like this. 

You also feel a bit afraid that they know, they figured out what had happened and that’s the reason they don’t trust to leave you alone again. You’ll make another stupid mistake or another risky decision that might cause you actual harm next time. 

Kyle eases you off his lap and onto the couch beside him. Johnny sits on your other side, squishing you between them as a tray is passed into your hands. You don’t feel very hungry as you stare down at the food, but you know after a meager dinner last night, you need to eat. You won’t be doing you or your pack any favors by being hungry. 

It’s quiet in the rec room as you eat. It’s almost eerie how silent it is, aside from the occasional scrape of silverware on the trays. You begin to float back into the time when they were gone, the haunting silence that had settled over the barracks in their absence. Everything had seemed so still, not peaceful, but more like the very walls were holding their breath. 

Perhaps it was in anticipation for what was to come. Perhaps somehow the very walls knew they would be beached, the safety they once promised would be upended. 

Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy. 

You shift forward on the couch, careful not to tip your tray over as you grab the remote from the coffee table, turning the TV on. 

“Finally! I couldnae handle the silence much longer.” Johnny exclaims, letting out a relieved sigh. 

The corners of your lips pull up in a smile as you pass the remote off to him, letting him search for something bearable to watch on early morning TV. You’re glad at least you weren’t alone in your distaste for the silence. You curl up closer to Gaz, reminding yourself that it’s not a dream, that they really are here. They really did come back. 

Now you just have to move on and put the nightmare of what happened behind you. 

As the days pass, things begin to return to normal. The guys start their normal routine of training and running drills almost immediately. To avoid being stuck in the barracks alone, you ask to go with them, blaming it on the distance and your need to be clingy still. At first you were afraid someone would take advantage of the barracks being empty again, but every search has come up empty handed. No more cameras, no more recording devices. 

Whoever it was who planted them must have given up, or perhaps the risk of doing it with the entire pack back on base was too high. 

Despite this fact, you spend the least amount of time in your room as possible. Even when you can’t go to watch them train or run drills, you spend your time in John’s room, or in the rec room. At night you rotate between John, Kyle, and Johnny, opting to sleep with them over spending a night alone in your room. 

As you discussed, you begin seeing Dr. Keller twice a week. You’re not quite sure what she told John to convince him it was necessary, but whatever it was, it hadn’t given away any of your secrets. It probably hadn’t taken much to convince him to say yes, given your current state and his worry about you. 

You know he’s worried. You can see it when he looks at you, like you might snap if he stares too hard. You’ve seen the way his hands twitch when Johnny holds you too tightly or gets too rough in his affection, like he’s worried you might shatter.

It’s reassuring to see the distance has not just affected you. Johnny holds you tighter than he used to, Kyle stands closer to you like he’s trying to fuse you both into one. Even Ghost has started hovering closer, using his hands to steer you and guide you when you’re around others that aren’t part of your pack. 

You’ve started eating in the mess again, knowing you can only avoid it for so long before they’ll start getting suspicious and asking questions. You still feel paranoid, being around the other soldiers on base. You can’t help but be suspicious that it was one of them that planted the cameras, that it was one of them that tried to get into your room that night. Who would willingly breach such sacred ground and invade an omega’s space like that, you couldn’t even begin to guess.  

Sure, some of them still stare at you, but most of them now ignore your existence. You’re no longer a spectacle, not after a few weeks on base, not that you’re a claimed omega now. 

That won’t stop some alphas. 

Going up against your pack, though? That would take one hell of a cocksure alpha. 

Just like the one that invaded your safe space. 

It had to have been an alpha. Sure, that beta soldier had entered the barracks, but to go so far as to put up cameras and try to come back and get into your room? That takes a special kind of audacity, something only an alpha could possess. 

So life has gone back to normal, or at least as normal as it can be after what happened. 

The return to normal hasn’t all been good, though. Your nightmares have returned, coming on quickly as soon as you began to settle into routine again. The real nightmare has passed, so now your mind has to plague itself with nightmares that have already happened. Things that can’t even hurt you anymore. 

You start avoiding sleep again, despite your work with Dr. Keller, too afraid to risk having a nightmare in front of one of them again. The last thing you need is to have to spill about your nightmare. You might not be able to stop and wind up spilling about what happened while they were gone too. 

Unfortunately, things don’t work that way. They never work that way for you. 

Someone is screaming. Your body feels like it’s being constricted by a snake, crushing and painful as you’re clutched desperately against your mother’s chest. She’s the one that’s screaming, the sound hurting your ears. Your face is pressed against her shoulder, into the softness of her sweater. It’s the pink one, the one she made. Her favorite. 

There’s knocking coming from somewhere, a door handle jiggling. It’s locked, but you can hear someone trying to get in, multiple people based on the voices from the other side. You don’t know who it is. You don’t recognize any of them. You can’t even make out what it is their saying, if they’re saying anything at all. The voices sound more like the unintelligible roar of monsters, the ones you used to be afraid of as a child. 

Everything is muted by the blood pulsing in your ears, drowning out everything but the jiggling of the door handle. Someone’s trying to break in. Someone is breaking in. You can make out the thuds against the door, the desperate attempts to get inside, to get to you. 

The arms around you tighten, pressing your face harder into the soft yarn of the sweater. You inhale the familiar scent of brown sugar and vanilla, the scent surrounding you and enveloping you in a sense of safety. Nothing can get you. Nothing can hurt you. 

That’s not true, though. You know it’s not. 

There’s a bang as the door is finally forced open, the screaming getting louder as footsteps enter the room. You’re shaking, trembling in your mother’s arms as she clings to you desperately, just like you used to cling to her when you thought there was a monster under your bed. 

The monsters were real, you realize as you desperately cling to your mother, just as tightly as she’s clinging to you. 

Hands grab at you, claws digging into your skin, tentacles wrapping around your body, trying to pull you from your mother’s grip. You can hear her pleading, begging, screaming at them not to take you, not to separate you. You’ll never see her again if they manage to pull you from her. They’ll take you away, hide you away, keep you from the warm comfort of her embrace. 

You let out a scream of your own as you’re yanked from her grasp, your arms reaching for her as the monsters pull you from the source of your safety and comfort. The last thing you see is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door slams in your face. 

A scream tears from your lips as you’re pulled from sleep suddenly. You’re falling, hitting the tile floor with a thud. Your shoulder cracks against the unforgiving floor, making you yelp. The blanket has tangled around your legs, rendering you immobile from the waist down. 

The frantic pounding of boots on the floor meets your ears, seconds before the four members of your pack are sprinting into the rec room. Their faces look just as frantic as their steps had been, concern laced with fear laced with worry. You hadn’t even realized they’d returned already. They had been at their afternoon drills while you stayed in the rec room watching TV, slowly succumbing to the exhaustion that’s been plaguing you. 

“What is it? What happened?” Kyle asks, moving to step forward but John beats him to it. 

“Fell off the couch.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit, wincing at the pain in your shoulder. There’s tears sliding down your cheeks despite you fighting the remnants of your terror and pain from the nightmare. 

“I think there’s more to it than that.” John says, kneeling down in front of you. 

You want to confess everything. How you haven’t been sleeping well for weeks now since your heat, how you keep having horrible nightmares about your past, what happened while they were away, how the nightmares have returned. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at John, the tears sliding down your cheeks as you give up trying to control them. Guilt plagues you as you stare at the worried face of your alpha. He just wants to help you, he just wants to take care of you, but he can’t if you’re keeping things from him, if you’re lying to his face. 

“I had a nightmare.” You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You clutch your arm to your chest, trying not to move your shoulder too much. 

John lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers lifting to press against your shoulder, feeling around the joint. You wince as he hits a tender spot, the pain sharp, but not horrible. You’ve certainly felt worse things. 

He turns to the others behind him, all of them staring at you with equally worried looks on their faces. “Get me an ice pack.” He says before turning back to you. 

He lifts you off the floor, placing you back on the couch before untangling the blanket from around your legs. Johnny grabs an ice pack as Kyle moves to sit next to you on the couch, draping his arm across the back, projecting his scent to try and help you relax. John sits on the edge of the coffee table, staring at you. Despite the worry still present on his face, his eyes are sharp. You can’t help but feel like you’re suddenly in an interrogation. They’ve done this before, probably many times, though likely not as gently as they are now. You’re terrified still at the way they shift so easily into the mindset of a soldier. You can’t even imagine what it would be like if they were serious in their interrogation of you. 

“How long have you been having nightmares?” John asks as Johnny takes a seat on the other side of you, passing you the ice pack. 

You press it against your shoulder, trying to keep your thoughts straight. You have to try not to spill anything, try not to confess to all of your sins, all of your stupid mistakes now. Your gaze drops to your lap, avoiding the looks of the two alphas staring at you. Ghost has moved to stand behind John, his arms crossed as he watches the exchange. You can feel the pressure of their gaze, the sharpness of it digging into your skin like knives. 

“A couple weeks.” You admit, unable to even think of a lie. You don’t want to lie now, not with them staring at you so intensely. They’d know. They’d be able to tell before the words even left your mouth. “Since my heat ended.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding sleeping?” John asks. 

You wince at his question. Of course he noticed. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been trained to notice weaknesses in others, gauge the capabilities of his men. Of course he’d notice you’re more tired than usual, not sleeping quite as much. He probably even knew all the times you woke up in the night when you slept next to him.  

You nod, still staring at your lap, too afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He breathes, almost sounding upset. 

You’ve made a mistake in keeping this a secret. You regret it as soon as you hear the emotion in his voice. He thinks you don’t trust them, he thinks you don’t trust your alpha. You need to tell him. You need to tell him everything, but the fear keeps you paralyzed. How much more upset will he be when you confess that you kept such a major event from him, from all of them? 

A quiet sob leaves your lips as you sit there, terrified of the reprimanding you’re sure to get. The shame burns hot in you, the reminder that you’ve disappointed them. You’ve let them down and now they won’t even trust you to tell them anything. 

“We’re not mad at you, sweetheart.” Gaz says, shifting his arm so it’s wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb brushing the hand that’s holding the ice pack to your shoulder. Johnny shifts just slightly closer to you, both of the betas projecting their scent around you, trying to cocoon you in their comforting presence. 

“I just want to know why you felt it necessary to hide something like that from us.” John says, his voice softer than it had been before. 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You find the words spilling out before you can stop them. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the fear or your brain finally getting tired of holding everything in. This is your moment to let out a little steam, to finally release some of the pressure that’s been building. “My nightmares are nothing compared to the ones you all probably have and it’s stupid and I shouldn’t even be having them, it’s been years since the last time I dreamed like this, and I don’t even know why they’ve come back now.” 

“No nightmares are stupid.” Ghost says, stepping up closer to the coffee table. 

“We’re here to help you.” John says, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We can’t do that if you don’t tell us what’s going on.” 

Guilt burns through you at his words. He’s right. You should be honest with them, tell them everything. They can’t help you, they can’t keep you safe even from the things that plague your mind if they don’t know about them. 

“What are the dreams about?” John asks, blue eyes boring holes into you. 

You feel small under his gaze, like you're a child again, facing down your father after doing something wrong, after making a mistake. You have made a mistake, though. You’re facing the consequences of your mistake right now. 

“The day I left for the institute.” You say quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper but you know they heard you in the silence of the barracks. It feels threatening, like the walls are silently vowing to tell the truth if you don’t. 

Your pack shifts a bit at your words, sharing looks amongst themselves. They have to know what it’s like, or at least heard stories about the trauma of being pulled from your pack to be taken to a strange place, surrounded by others just like you. 

“What happened that day?” Ghost asks, staring down at you. 

You can feel his gaze piercing into you, screaming the silent threat that you’re going to tell them, no matter how long they have to sit here and wait. You don’t have a choice anymore. You have to tell them. 

You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth. 

Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you. 

She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence. 

“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.” 

“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it. 

“Shut up and sit down.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak. 

He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity. 

You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door. 

“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. He catches her before she can rush forward to you. How you wish you could have her arms around you again, holding you and comforting you in your confusion. 

“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.” 

You blink up at him, the words seering through the haze, registering in your foggy mind. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them. 

“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack. 

Your mother is yelling, fighting against your father’s hold around her, but it’s useless. He’s stronger. He wants this, so no one is going to stop him. She’ll pay later for her actions, her disagreement with him. You won’t be here to see it, though. You’re leaving and you won’t be coming back. 

The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever. 

You’re dragged into the back of a van parked in the driveway. Two men in uniform climb in behind you before the doors are slammed shut. You curl up in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. You want your mom, you want to be back in the safety of her arms, the warmth and comforting softness that only she can provide. 

One of the men approaches you, a needle in his hand. You whimper in fear, pressing further back into the corner as he gets closer to you. He forces you down onto your stomach, the pain brief as he injects you with the sedative before he moves back to take his seat. You curl up in a ball, quietly sobbing as the drugs begin to work, your vision going hazy before you’re forced into unconsciousness. 

“I woke up hours later at the institute.” You say, wiping at the tears streaming down your cheeks, but it does little against the cascade of tears falling from your eyes. “Never saw or spoke to my family again. They didn’t even try to reach me, and I know my dad was the reason why. He hated me as soon as I presented.” 

“Fucking hell.” Ghost breathes, hands curled into fists at his sides. You can smell the intensity of his scent above everything, the burning ozone of anger rolling off of him. It makes you wince, even though you know it’s not directed at you. 

“That’s why he wanted to send you so quickly.” Kyle says, his arm tightening around you. 

“How did he get you into FIOT so soon after your presentation?” John asks. 

You shrug your good shoulder. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know he’d be sending me, much less so soon until it was happening.” 

“Christ,” Johnny breathes, gently taking your hand in his. “No wonder yer havin’ nightmares, kitten.” 

“I haven’t had this nightmare since I arrived at the institute. They started there, lasted a few weeks while I adjusted to being there.” You sniffle. “Haven’t had them since, until now. Dr. Keller says it’s because I finally feel safe enough to process the trauma of it happening.” 

John sits up a little straighter. “Is that why she suggested seeing you multiple times a week?” 

You nod. “We’re working on it. I asked her not to tell you, because I did plan on telling you eventually.” 

“I’m glad you told someone, at least,” He says. “And I’m glad you finally told us too. We might not be able to stop the nightmares, but at least now we can help support you in whatever way you need.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You say, squeezing Johnny’s hand slightly. He was the only one that knew you were having nightmares, but you hadn’t even confessed to him what was going on out of fear he’d tell the others. 

“It’s alright, sweet girl.” John says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad it finally came out and now we can help you.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his thumb brushing your skin gently. 

The moment is broken as your stomach growls impatiently. It’s past your normal dinner time, your confession having kept you longer than you thought it would. You hadn’t gotten in your afternoon snack either, your body having chosen to nap instead. 

A small smile tugs at John’s lips. “Hungry, love?” 

You nod. “Yeah. Didn’t get my snack.” 

“We’ll go get some food and bring it here, how does that sound?” He asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. That sounds good.” 

He pushes himself up to stand, his knees cracking as he does. You fight the urge to say something, squeezing Johnny’s hand tightly. 

“I’ll stay.” Ghost says, still looking at you. 

John looks down at you and you meet Ghost’s gaze for a moment before nodding. John presses another kiss to your head, Johnny and Kyle pressing kisses to your cheeks before they get up, leaving the rec room to get dinner for everyone. 

Ghost moves from his spot on the other side of the coffee table, sinking down at the end of the couch. You fight the urge to stare at him in surprise. You’re not sure you’ve seen him sit anywhere but in the chair the entire time you’ve been here. 

It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, aside from the occasional sniffle from you. You wipe the remaining tears from your face, removing the melted ice pack from your shoulder, tossing it on the coffee table. This feels very familiar to you, this position. You’ve been here before, back when you punched the asshole alpha who insulted you. 

“My dad was a real asshole.” 

You turn your head slightly in surprise when Ghost break’s the silence suddenly. He’s not looking at you, his gaze distant, far away. You know that look well. You’ve seen it on him before, and also on a few omegas at the institute. You’re sure it’s graced your face as well many times. 

“He was a trad alpha, real piece of shit who couldn’t control his anger. Took it out on all of us. My mum, my brother, me.” He scoffs. “Mum took the brunt of it, but Tommy and I faced our fair share of it too. He used to bring dangerous animals home and taunted us with them. Made me kiss a snake once. He did all kinds of horrible things to us.” His voice softens a bit in a way you’ve never heard before. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, not even when he told you about his own nightmares. “I’ve never wanted an omega, because of the things my dad did to my mum. I never wanted a pack either, but...maybe something deep down in me did because I said yes to this whole experiment.” 

The silence hangs heavy between you for a moment. You’re not sure what to say, or if you can even manage to say anything in response to what he’s just told you. You had no idea what his life was like growing up, except that he was also a purebred. 

“I was always too afraid the cycle would continue, that I’d turn out to be another piece of shit, just like my dad.” He says. 

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 

He huffs out a breath. “Thanks.” He stares down at the coffee table, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Did your dad ever hit you?” 

You shake your head. “Never directly. He got rough sometimes, grabbing us, squeezing too hard, yanking us around. He never stopped my brothers when they got too rough, though. They liked to wrestle, and I wanted to join because I wanted to spend time with my cooler older brothers. Sometimes they’d forget I was smaller than them and I got hurt a couple times. He never reprimanded them when it happened. I think he enjoyed it more than anything. He mostly just yelled a lot.” 

“Trad alphas only speak the language of yelling and violence.” He says. “If my father wasn’t screaming at us, his fists were getting the message across. Sometimes he’d do both at the same time.” Ghost shakes his head. “Real pieces of shit, trad alphas. Makes me sick, the kinds of things they believe in.” 

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.” You say, fishing for anything to follow up his confession with. Nothing feels right, nothing feels like enough. 

He shrugs. “It happened. It’s in the past. He died a few years ago. Left nothing but a stain behind.” 

“What happened to your mom and brother?” You ask. 

“Tommy got into drugs for a while, but he cleaned up and got married. Mum lives with him now. Still doing well.” He says. 

You’re surprised by his words. You’ve always heard that omegas don’t last long without their alphas. But what if their alpha was an asshole? Is the relief of their death enough to scrub out the grief of losing your alpha? 

You stare at the side of Ghost’s head, your heart thudding in your chest. You feel sorry for him, but at the same time, you’re grateful he shared this with you. You have much more in common than you thought you did with the giant aloof alpha. Maybe, perhaps, this can be a way for the two of you to grow closer, maybe you finally have common ground that you can share with him to get him to open up to you more. You know he wants it. The revelation of his disappointment at your lack of greeting, and the fact he let you hug him is enough to tell you he wants something more with you. It might never breach the realm of romance or even a casual fling, but you can’t deny the bond is there. You can feel it, the tugging in your chest as you look at him, the butterflies in your stomach when he puts a hand on your back to steer you through the crowd in the mess. 

You want him to want you. You want him to open up, to peel the layers back and bare his very soul to you. He’s already started. This confession is the beginning of that kind of bond between you. That he trusts you enough to tell you this makes something flutter in your chest. 

If only he knew you were keeping something worse from him. 

You could tell him. Confess to him right here, right now. Spill it all in this sort of mock confessional, this mock therapy session between you. He’ll be mad, but perhaps after everything that’s transpired today, he’ll be lenient. You’re not sure you could say the same about John, though. 

“Ghost, I-” You start but he cuts you off. 

“Simon.” 

“What?” You breathe, blinking in shock as he turns to face you. 

“My name. It’s Simon.” 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnes

@protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai

@redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg

@beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff

@smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60

@evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine

@thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows

@ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce

@darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood

@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

FANFIC POLL TIME!

Descriptions (because i NEED to explain things haha-):

CHOOSE WISELY

Of Bridges Built & Burned: Based off this clowning between me and @moodyseal

BUCKLE UP THIS GETS WILD READ THE LINK ABOVE FOR A MORE DETAILED EXPLANATION

TD;LR- Commodus and Apollo get to both scream about their relationship (because it's usually only Commodus who does that), Commodus goes off to sulk/stew over it while Apollo completes his trials, then post-ToA they meet again and have a Much Needed Talk

...and *sobs* go separate ways... *ugly sobbing* DON'T MIND ME-

you know you love the ship when you write them breaking up in the most heart-wrenching scenario possible.

but shh...i have another idea to do with this but that's for another time😈

The Art of War: I've been DYING to do SOMETHING with Apollo (Favorite Son™) and Ares (Failure Son™) and I have 3 whole scenes in different points of time now!!!

First is when Apollo's young and new on Olympus. He's been shoved onto Ares for the time being because in Ancient Greece, boys were raised by their fathers and girls by their mothers, and when the father was unavailable, it was the eldest brother's job to watch his younger brothers.

Second scene is during/post Ares's kidnapping by the giants! Some Apollo angst, Zeus being the best dad ever (not), and Ares not having a good time.

Third and finally, is a little conversation post-ToA between them :3

The Sun's Rise: At last! Out of the vault! The moment we've been waiting for! Starring our boy Apollo, Prometheus being Prometheus, and a guest star you all should know by now :3

Hyapollo Multific: YEAH YOU HEARD IT. FIVE CHAPTERS OF HYAPOLLO, WITH SIDE DISHES OF APRICITY, HYARICITY, AND ONE-SIDED ZEPHYRUS PINNING FOR HYAPOLLO. COME GET UR FLUFF-DRAMA-ANGST FEST

@hyac1nthus i know you'd want to see this >:3

Koios ToA: What the hell was Koios doing during ToA? This fic will play like a snapshot of what our favorite titan was up too. Questions will be asked, answers will be found, and oh boy Phoebe and Koios are gonna have a bit o' long-overdue marital strife.

Drunk Twins: literally what is says on the label. the twins get drunk and the Hunt has to call in the mama wolf for backup lmao

The Conspiracy of Rachel Elizabeth Dare: based on this post by @hogoflight and expanded upon here by me! Rachel Dare is a conundrum to her friends, and they put their detective hats on to solve the case!

ToA BuzzFeed Unsolved: The Queer Capers of Lester Papadopoulos and Meg McCaffrey: BUZZFEED TIME! We need ToA buzzfeed fics so here I am making one :3

Apollo V Orion fight (with a side-dish of Jupiter & Commodus): Exactly what it says on the label lmao I had three oneshot ideas and then I went "COMBINE THEM!!" so here is a oneshot with three different things in it making a cohesive story :3

A Radiant Light: Did I make up an entire backstory for one background character? Yes. Is that character Phoebe the Hunter? Also yes.

how to get your daughter to divorce your brother and marry your nephew: a guide by demeter: funny fic about Demeter trying to get Meg, Nico, and Will to help her convince Persephone to divorce Hades and marry Apollo. Based off one of my headcanons haha

👀 lookin' forward to a lot of these, hehe!

Tag list: @txny-dragon @solahflare @fuzzystudios @apollosothertwin @peishathebookity @reuben-7991 @allylyrac @the-summersun

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Aug 29th

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1. hello! i’ve been looking for a fic that involves an OC (i think?) that acts as a beard for nie huaisang. it was wangxian centric but that’s the main detail i remember. thank you!

FOUND? 🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 859k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) has NHS getting himself engaged to a female OC that he has no romantic interest in (& vice versa - she's a lesbian) because she has useful skills

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2. hi! Do you recall a fic where wwx was like an omega courtesan in a school who was bought by lxc for lwj. Mianmian was also there with him too for a bit. I remember a scene where lwj got mad at wwx for wanting to wash him. They fall in love eventually. If you could find this fic I'd be grateful! 🙏

FOUND! Rattling our cages by danegen (E, 69k, wangxian, A/B/O, but like polite, Slow Burn, Pining while fucking, so much hair combing, WWX has a vagina, POV WWX, no yin iron or wars or plot really, Canon Era, spiders–see the notes, Spanish Translation Available)

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3. Hello! Thank you for all the work that you all do <3

I've been trying to look for a fic for some time now. I think it had wangxian pretty much adopting a little girl. Like the girl is an orphan and just keeps clinging to wx and being super sticky and I think there was a plot in her backstory dealing with resentment. Wwx knew abt it but lwj did not figure it out until later i think. This girl just accompanied them on some nighthunt or smth. The story has the Lan take in orphans due to reasons(tm) and the girl was one of them.

FOUND! the low sky, raining over by chibilwj (thelogicoftaste) (M, 37k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Kid Fic)

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4. Hi. I have a fic to find. In this fic, instead of Yanli dying at Nightless City, Lan Zhan gets critically injured and it sends Wei Wuxian into a spiral. Lan Xichen is very angry at him and will not let him anywhere near his body.

Thank you for your help.

FOUND? If I Could Go Back in Time by Runningbarefoot (M, 122k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, YL WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, The Twin Jade Brotherhood, Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Slow Burn)

FOUND? 🔒❤️ kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

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5. hi this is for fic finder!! i’m looking for a fic where wangxian leave the cultivation world for a while with lan sizhui and only come back accidentally. i’m pretty sure everyone else thinks they’re dead and they might have been residing with baoshan sanren in her mountain. thank you!

FOUND? If It's Too Hard To Forgive by Machevalli (M, 94k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Fluff and Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Yunmeng Jiang Sect Bashing, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Mpreg)

~*~

6. Hello! I'm looking for a WangXian fic, they were both dragon shapeshifters, but they met each other in their dragon forms. They both assumed that the other was a regular dragon and both made the decision to commit to the relationship and live out their lives as dragons from now on. I think only when JYL visited and WWX turned human for her, LWJ realized that he was a shifter too. It might have been a twitter thread fic. Thank you so much for your help!!

~*~

7. Looking for an arranged marriage au for wangxian. Yiling laozu wwx, he and lz don't know each other and lz is initially worried cause of wwx reputation. Wwx does the marriage, but doesn't immediately trust lz cause he could be a spy/sent to hurt wwx etc. Specifically there was a scene where people came and attacked wwx's household, I think wwx was away. Everyone hid in the cellars only to realize a-yuan was missing. Lz goes after him and saves a-yuan from being harmed but gets badly hurt.

This leads wwx to realize he can trust lz. Wwx may have taken lz's sword away before the attack cause of a misunderstanding and lz fought to protect everyone any way. And I think another scene lz comes out in his night clothes and yells at a group of cultivators who had come to rescue lz cause they thought something happened to him and lz is like why r yall breaking into my house in the middle of the night and the cultivators (lxc might have been with them) were like this is awkward.

but mebbe I just made it up/misremembered or accidentally combined things?

FOUND? 💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27, Mojo’s post)

FOUND? Caught Between Sun and Shadows by Alliandra (E, 71k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, grapshic depictions of violence, sunshot campaign, arranged marriage, YLLZ WWX, pining, battle husbands, versatile wangxian, falling in love, resentacles, sex pollen, fuck or die, golden core reveal, politics, hurt/comfort) also sounds like

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8. Fic finder? I'm suspecting it has been deleted but I need to try. It's a fanfic where wwx attempts s*ic*de (suicide) and jc finds him in the bathroom. He calls 911, he's hospitalized and all of that. Please help me 🥲🥲

FOUND! 总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie (E, 76k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pianist, Getting Together, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Hospitals, Overdosing, Eventual Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

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9. a modern AU where LWJ and WWX reconnected at a party when Su She was hitting in LWJ, takes place in grad school and WWX doesn’t know they were dating until the end when they visit LWJ’s uncle’s cottage

thank you so much for your help!! @anonionsodelicious

FOUND? without your new eyes by anaphoricae (E, 66k, WangXian, Modern, Didn’t Know They Were Dating, Sexuality Discovery, Self-Discovery, Literal Sleeping Together, (there is so much sleeping in this fic), mentions of WWX/others and LWJ/others, Drunk LWJ, Teacher LWJ, WWX is a… throws dart… computer scientist, No Angst, Jealous WWX, Flirty WWX, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, WWX’s Love Language is Physical Touch, Guess what: even more non-sexual sleeping together, the plot of the fic is just… co-sleeping, call it the Nap Fic ™, Podfic Available, WWX isn’t so much 'oblivious’ as he is wilfully blocking some feelings subconsciously, WWX 'idk how I feel’ to 'I’m gonna marry him’ pipeline)

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10. Hi im looking for a specific fic. The fic was on ao3 and was a modern au where Wei Ying realizes he might be a bit gay and kisses lan zhan but then freaks out, and they get a bit awkward. He then goes on to forums to see what others might think of his situation, he tries watching gay porn etc. and finds that he's dreaming of lan zhan. He ends up being jumped by homophobes goes on a drinking binge for the next few days as a result and hears that lan zhan has been staying in his room and hasn't been doing well, wei ying thinks it's because he kissed him but later finds out he sent lan zhan a homophobic message when drunk. Any help would be appreciated!!! @livesformitski

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11. Hello! I was hoping you can help me track this fic down!

In the fic Lan Zhan finds out about Wei Yings golden core and he schemes to get it back with Wen Qing no matter what. I think it was a dark lan Zhan fic?

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12. For FF, I am once again asking for wlw wangxian fics. There’s a specific one I can’t seem to find, wherein Lwj and wwx are roommates, and wwx is planning on moving out to mm’s bc she constantly hears lwj hooking up in her room, but there’s an issue at the new place or something so she keeps putting off moving out until eventually she’s convinced to stay when they get together

I’ve tried digging through tags but it’s giving me issues, I would appreciate you forever if you find it🙏🙏🙏

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13. Hi I'm looking for this wangxian fic but can't find it anywhere, I don't remember a lot but all I remember is lan wangji getting his lashes punishment and wei wuxian (who is alive) turning up getting angry and destroying all the clans. Yanli (also alive) - and I think zixuan- was like ' well what do you all expect, you've all brought this on yourselves'

Sorry I can't remember much else,

Thank you ☺️ @haseenaay99

FOUND? An arrow to the heart by IsilmeLasgalen (T, 47k, WangXian, SongXiao, XuanLi, ZhuiYi, LQY/NMJ, XiSang, A-qing/OYZZ, BSSR/LY, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, YLLZ WWX, WWX Lives, BAMF JYL, Protective WWX, Good Parents LWJ and WWX, Married WangXian Have Children, JGS "falls" down the stairs, Bad Parents JFM and YZY, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, JYL Lives, JZX Lives, Protective WN, Implied/Referenced Abuse, POV Multiple, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Cultivation Sect Politics)

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14. I'm looking for a Modern AU crack-fic-ish from Jiang Cheng's POV (I think?) where Wei Ying seems obliviously in a relationship, and later married, to Lan Zhan. It's also implied that maybe they're just trolling Jiang Cheng. @hiperfyxation

FOUND? Six in one hand by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 2k, WangXian, Modern: No Powers, Crack Treated Seriously, Compulsory Heterosexuality, POV JC)

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15. Hi i need help looking for a fic. I don’t remember much but it was a sort of time travel fic where wei wuxian goes back in time. I think there was a scene during the sun shot campaign where wangxian confess? I remember lan wangji being jealous of his future/ alternate self who is wwx’s husband

I’m so sorry I don’t remember more but please help me find this fic 🥹

FOUND! 🔒 if you can’t beat them, recruit them by moeblobmegane (T, 228k, Wangxian, NHS & WWX, WWX & WQ, Time Travel Fix-It, Conspiracy, Spies & Secret Agents, Team as Family, Found Family, Burial Mounds, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Pining, Morally Ambiguous Character, Rumors, Politics, Developing Friendships, Good Uncle LQR, Demonic Cultivation, YilingWei Sect) i think its - chapter 26

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16. Hi, this is for a fic finder. I’m looking for a fic where WWX is a Wen. When Lans were attacked, LWJ, LSJ and LJY were taken to Qishan but were taken under WWX’s wings and they were taken care of. It was lan sect bashing and LQR bashing. LWJ did not return to Lans. I just remember that towards the end of the fic, there was a scene where WWX asked his spies from each sect to come out and MXY came out from Jiang, XY came out from Nie and MY was from Jin. I thought I’ve bookmarked it but could find it. I also have checked Wen WWX compilations and War Prize LWZ compilations. Did not find in either list. I’d appreciate if anyone know the name! Thank you!

FOUND? To the Heavens and the Earth by IsilmeLasgalen (E, 77k, WangXian, WWX is a Wēn, POV LWJ, Good Parent LWJ, Marriage of Convenience, Accidental Marriage, Implied Mpreg, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, CSSR and WCZ Live BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Cultivation Sect Politics, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, POV NHS, Protective LJY, Good Person WRH, Protective LXC, Immortal LWJ and WWX, POV LXC, Mpreg, WangXian in Love, Soft WangXian, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, POV JZX, Emperor WWX, Emperor LWJ, Past WWX/Other(s), Everybody Lives, Fluff, Angst, Smut, LWJ is LJY's Parent)

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17. Hi! I'm trying to find a fic where lej continuously aaja to play cleansing fir wwc but he keeps reusing cuz resentful energy is the only thing holding his body together but the eventually agrees and then almost dies but wen qung is there and then the course reveal happens and it angsty and wwc thinks lans wouldn't have cared if he told them cheating him if resentment could possibly kill him, thanku!

FOUND? 🧡 decay by antebunny (G, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, the fluffiest ending, Hurt/Comfort)

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18. Hello, this is a fic finder ask:

I’m not sure of the entire plot the the fic but I remember Meng Yao getting caught and being slapped by SiSi in front of the other sect leaders because of what he tried to do knowing his mom’s upbringing. He tries to play it off but he gets imprisoned in a Lanling Tower and isn’t allowed to use anything with strings because of what he did to Nie Mingjue.

FOUND? 💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27, Mojo’s post) I think #18 is - chapter 30. But its only has the slapping part

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19. hi, I have a finder fic ask, well two actually:

A. jin guangshan tries to assault yanli but he is stopped but there’s a plot twist because yanli knew it would happen because jin guangshan has a special garden when he does that to people and she is maybe a time traveler so she sets him up to be caught

B. WWX has died and there’s a celebration happening and there’s this special guest that will be there, possibly called The Painter, and when they get there the guest actually sings the story of how the different sects are hypocrites and the guest curses all of them except Lan Wangji and when the guest goes to leave, they lift up their veil and reveal themselves to be baoshan sanren.

~*~

20. Hi!!! I hope you're doing well. Please help me find this fic. It's a modern setting one, where I think WWX is sending LWJ suggestive pictures and videos of himself, and LWJ just doesn't know who it is. I think WWX is some kind of IT or something. I came across this fic on Twitter/X in a promotional of the AO3 fic, but I can't find it anymore. I forgot the parts of the fic but I know there's pictures and chat logs inserted in the fic. Please help me and thank you so much!!!

FOUND? might be this thread (unrolled because I don't have twitter)

also on ao3 its called + xx xxx xxx xxxx by 3neetee (E, 12k, WangXian, Modern, Shameless Smut, PWP, Dom/sub, Stalker WWX, Manipulative LWJ, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Rimming, Spanking, Spit Kink, Under-negotiated Kink, Identity Porn, Explicit/NSFW Pictures, Twitter threadfic, Semi-Public Sex, freak4freak wangxian)

~*~

[ijustthinkhesneat]

I feel compelled to expand upon the previous fae/folklore! Batboys headcanons:

-Bruce is just a straight up normal human. I think this provides a great opportunity for angst because unlike his immortal? children Bruce does age and it terrifies them. And Bruce is young he’s in his early 30s but like his knees will crack a little or his back is slightly stiff after a bad patrol and it just sends them into a spiral because they cannot fathom their dad not being around forever. I can definitely imagine them trying to strong arm Bruce into becoming some flavor of unaging. You could go super dark or just more generally emotional angst but damn the possibilities.

-Cass is giving me shadow person. Very cryptid of her. I’m not sure that I have a clear backstory for her worked out yet. Either magic gone wrong or she’s another flavor of undead like Jason and Tim. I like to imagine she just hovers over people at night to be creepy.

-Originally I wanted to say Duke was a Will-o-the-wisp. But I’m not really sure it fits, especially since he’s primarily active during the day. Then it hit me. Mothman. My lamplight boy is a moth creature. I like the idea of him hiding his little antenna under a beany and wearing sunglasses. The wings would be difficult. But my boy is creative.

- I think Steph and Barbara are also human like Bruce they just are extra bad ass.

-Coming back to life as a magical creature warps peoples memories and emotions from both the trauma and changing into something not human. Tim is significantly less effected than Jason, at least outwardly, because he was only a toddler when he died so he didn’t have many memories or experiences to draw from, but Jason was super volatile. His memories surrounding Willis became even more dark while his memories of his mother sort of glossed over her absentee parenting and drug use. Jason can’t help but struggle with associating the negative learned experience he had with his first paternal figure with Bruce. Jason ends up going to live with Talia for a while because he doesn’t want to feel that way about his dad anymore.

-Basically I think Jason, at least mentally, is the most human of Bruce’s kids besides Damian because he actually lived a life as a human, where as Tim changed so young that he doesn’t really know how to be anything but his extremely disturbing self.

-I think Gotham just has major ‘I do not see it’ energy. Like The Batfamily? Demons from hell. The Wayne’s? Hot neurodivergent people. Did you see Dick Grayson unhinge his jaw like a fucking snake at a gala? No you didn’t he just has a really big smile. Jason Todd??? Has scales??? Nope actually he just developed early onset Eczema and he’s really self conscious about it how dare you! Tim Drake sucking the blood of the himbo blonde boy? Everyone knows Tim and Bernard are total freaks. Cassandra Cain is your sleep paralysis demon? Honestly fair.

-It’s totally a coincidence that strange misfortune befalls anyone who threatens the Wayne’s!

-Clark is Bruce’s favorite man to sleep on so he gets a pass. I don’t know why but a midwestern spin on the story of princess kaguya lives in my head rent free. Like Martha Kent is just shucking corn and then boom baby in the corn. We call that children of the corn. I still love to imagine him being like so perfect that it’s high key alien, but his little sharp nails and fangies! Maybe even slightly pointy ears. And like Clark fully thinks he is human, like his parents don’t tell him humans can’t fly until he’s in kindergarten, and even then they just tell him he is special and learned super fast and shouldn’t embarrass the other kids and Clark is such a Good BoyTM that he just never uses his powers in public cause he doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Like bro doesn’t learn he is adopted until he is about to go to college, he is just straight up clueless.

-Clark learns Dick is a Fae creature when Batman brings Robin to the Watchtower cause he couldn’t get a baby sitter and Alfred doing some spooky shit like dusting the mausoleum. Like Batman just slinking around but there is this super colorful child with him. And then Dick turns and smiles and it’s just so wrong, like his mouth just stretching his face like some horror movie shit. Clark almost shots himself cause like what the fuck. Bruce told Dick to just ‘be himself’ so like he just thinks he’s being friendly. Despite being creepy as all hell Clark kinda thinks Dick is super adorable. Like was he spider crawling around the floor with all his limbs bent the wrong way while Bruce and Clark were talking? Yeah but then he just tugged on Bruce’s cape to ask for a juice box, like that’s a baby.

-Jason freaked him out in a different way. Since Jason is undead he doesn’t have a heartbeat and doesn’t need to breath so when he isn’t moving he makes literally zero noise. When he first met Clark he was just watching him from around corners and behind stair banisters and Clark was convinced he was losing his mind and hallucinating the kid from the Grudge. Then Bruce is just like “Oh you met Jason! He’s so sweet, just a little shy. He’s my second oldest! I think he likes you though.” And then a little grey blue slightly webbed hand just reaches around the corner to give a little wave and boom Clark would kill for him.

-Tim is similar in that Clark has trouble pinpointing his location because of a lack of normal bodily functions, but Tim has no idea what a boundary is. So like at first he’s a shy little toddler and then that night he’s crawling all over Clark and pranking him nonstop.

-Damian is a baby but like Clark looked in his eyes and just felt like this infant could see his past present and future and was judging him heavily. Clark was relieved cause at least he had a heartbeat.

-Cass lives to fuck with Clark. She’s Jason’s age but not only has no heartbeat and doesn’t breath, when she is in shadow form he can’t see her with X-ray vision. She can literally make herself undetectable to Superman. He learns this one night sleeping in a guest room at the manor. He gets the feeling he is being watched but can’t find anyone. Then right when he relaxes her arm shoots out from the darkness under his bed and grabs his leg. Clark screams so loud it cracks the window. And then just nearly silent muffled laughter as the arm retreats into the darkness. He X-Ray visions but nothing is there. He demands to stay in Bruce’s room after that. Bruce is just like “Oh that was just Cass. She likes playing practical jokes, she is my little princess!”

[sheikfangirl]

Since you're the Queen of Puppet Zelda, what are your thoughts on these possible explanations for her level of autonomy?

Is Puppet Zelda merely made of Gloom and acts as a physical extension of Gannondorf himself so he has a set of eyes, ears, and hands that can travel and exert influence outside of his perch in the Depths, but as a higher quality puppet/projection (and therefore more taxing on his power to maintain) than the Gloom Hands and Phantom Gannons? Or is she a separate being entirely, created by him, but given her own agency, mind, and will to make her own decisions, in so far as she's still a slave to doing Gannondorf's bidding? She doesn't need constant effort on his part to control or exist, but would have probably cost him a chunk of his power upfront to create.

Could she be something else?

First, let's rectify one thing: I am NOT the Queen of Puppet Zelda. Puppet Zelda IS MY QUEEN. (But thanks for the compliment, I am blushing over here 🤭)

Secondly, thank you so much for your interest in my HC. I will happily share my thoughts on this criminally underused character that has drama written all over. This is an overview okay because I feel I could write a freakin thesis paper on Puppet Zelda 

Quick note: I am not pretending to be right or to have the absolute truth. This is my headcanon, the backstory in the back of my mind when I draw my Puppet Zelda art.

All headcanons are valid, games are interactive media, and the relationship and connections one has with a game are personal.

As you might know, English is not my first language and  visual support helps me explain things... so I made a graphic. I hope this will help understand my take of this character and why I love her so much🤣🤷‍♀️

In a nutshell:

I think Puppet Zelda is an independent minion created by Ganondorf using his magic powers. He created a shell in Zelda's image from 10 000 years ago to do his bidding and re-used her 10 000 years later to distract Link to buy himself the time to regenerate to full power.

Exhibit A: Ganondorf's Magic

If Ganondorf can spawn a whole list of monsters and gloom hands, he created Puppet Zelda too. The monsters are not continually controlled by Ganondorf, right? They do his bidding, they do what they were "programmed & designed" for, we might even say. I think it's the same for Puppet Zelda. But she is definitely a more defined and complex creation.

Exhibit B: The Hot henchwoman trope

I am not gonna lie: This is one of my very favorite tropes.... EVER! I always fall for the hot henchwomen. Ganon's quote from the glorious Sanctum scene during  the "Crisis at Hyrule Castle" scene makes me absolutely think she is indeed autonomous. "Did my puppet distract you?" Ganondorf asks Link in that chilling and subtext filled scene.

Puppet Zelda had one objective: To distract Link.

Ganon was busy regenerating. Having to control or act through someone would've been too power consuming. I don't buy it's a manifestation of him. AT ALL. so...yeah. hot henchwoman trope. Also, I'm a lesbian and I have no interest whatsoever in Ganondorf.

...HOT HENCHWOMAN TROPE SUPREMACY!! Yep. Fanservice for me.

Exhibit C: Real Zelda's Angst

This is where it's getting twistingly FUN.

This is an HC I assimilated like a borg from my ZHS buddy @kazraza  Her theory is so ***** angsty and delicious and I love it! 

At the time of King Rauru and Queen Sonia, Ganondorf created a pawn with Zelda's appearance so that it could get close to them and attack.

Then, in order to distract Link 10 000 years later, Ganondorf had to "refine" his weapon. He needed "data and real Zelda knowledge" uploaded into Puppet Zelda to ensure her credibility and the success of her mission. He wanted to make sure she could distract Link and trick him. 

And where did all this personal knowledge of Real Zelda's innermost intimate thoughts and insecurities come from, you may ask?

Well from the real Zelda herself of course!!

But when and where was this data collected?

We believe all of Zelda's Angst was leached directly from her during her 100 years mystic battle containing Calamity Ganon in this Malice Cocoon in Breath of the Wild. *GASP* Puppet Zelda was there all along in Breath of the Wild....absorbing all of Zelda's angst!!!

This is why everyone was confused and tricked by Puppet Zelda in TotK. This is why Puppet Zelda asks Link if he remembers their time at Hyrule Castle: she has Zelda's pre-calamity memories and this why Link is so tortured in my art! She can REALLY mess with him big time. I really like to think there is a part of real Zelda inside Puppet Zelda. Her dark side: Her anger, her cockiness, her jealousy, her selfishness... her desire. 

She is also kind of Zelda's answer to Dark Link.

Alright I wrote enough for tonight. To whoever took precious minutes of their lives to read this well...thank you! I am now moving on with my life too 🤣

For more HC about Puppet Zelda, her powers and influences, this should be all covered in future art

(i hope)

Cheers!! And glory to Puppet Zelda ✋

[kerokerokook]

the rebound girl: chapter three

pairing: nerd pro-gamer jeongguk x reader

word count: 20.7k

a/n: so sorry for not updating for like almost two months atp. had some personal stuff and with genocide that is happening in gaza, i personally felt like it wasn't appropriate for me to post. please continue to support in any way you can whether that's with uplifting voices, going to protests, boycotting and donating. the smallest action can make a difference.

just a heads up, i won't keep a update schedule which i apologize for but i will do my best to be consistent :)

also i write this authors note, the golden concert finished and we got the enlistment notice for vminkookjoon. it's fine everything is fine they sooner they leave the sooner they come back hahaha :( (i'm crying as we speak)

warnings for this chapter: kissing, lots of ass grabbing, oc is down baaaaad, and so is jk tbh, oral (fem and male receiving), two orgasms for you, 69 position, some very light spanking and praise. jk drinks it like water. some slight dom/sub undertones (jk is a switch but not in this chapter :o)

other tags: a good chunk of angst, slut shaming, spreading of fake rumors, finally oc backstory on the nickname!!, mentions of marijuana, jeongguk asks the girls how to eat cat 8-) and he is once again green flag obvi

fic masterlist

song for chapter: seven by jungkook ft. latto and slut! by taylor swift

enjoy!

-mal <3

You wake up surrounded by warmth. The streams of sunlight coming in from your window thanks to your slightly parted curtains bathe your skin in gold, along with the thick duvet thrown over your body, and the thick arms wrapped around your waist. 

For a second, you forget everything that happened last night. 

The way you were panicking and how it escalated to kissing, touching, marking; how your lips wrapped around his thick and long length and how Jeongguk’s fingers pushed you past the edge. You can’t believe it. That one of your childhood best friends is lying in bed next to you right now.  A man who made you feel so good that you want another taste. 

You cringe at your thoughts. You’re really starting to sound like Mrs. Robinson right now. 

Turning your body in his grasp, you face Jeongguk who has been hugging you from behind. His cheek is pressed into the soft pillow, puffed up a bit so his lips look extra pouty. His eyes are peacefully shut, body raising with his breath, and his shirt is all ruffled from him moving around so his collarbones are slightly exposed. You can see the marks you left on him, vibrant and pretty against his honey colored skin. 

Without thinking, your hand picks up to gently glide over the surface. The skin feels the same but internally, you feel waves of smug, almost masculine, pride at the sight of them. As if you’ve branded the guy to be yours. 

Your cup his right cheek, smoothing underneath his eye with your thumb. There’s a little tug with the thin skin, slightly sagging with a lack of sleep, but he looks so beautiful and peaceful like this. Jeongguk has amazing eyebrows; full, dark and perfectly shaped. You run your thumb over thick short hairs before pushing some of the hair messily strewn over his forehead out of the way. Strands silky and smelling of his shampoo.  

As another finger goes to trace his earrings like the pieces of a wind chime, Jeongguk stirs. A soft whine barely leaves him before he’s tugging you closer so that your head is tucked into the crook of his neck. 

His arms wind around you tightly, squeezing you just a bit and forcing a laugh out of you. 

“Hey,” you call, feeling like a boa constrictor has coiled itself around you. 

Jeongguk murmurs under his breath. “Five more minutes.” 

“But I can’t breathe.”

“Figure it out.” 

“Jeongguk,” you giggled, playing with a lock of dark hair that was all fluffy without a brush, tugging slightly to get him further out of sleep.  “Cmon, you’re already half awake.” 

There’s a fullness in your bladder. You need to pee and fix your hair and brush your teeth and make yourself look presentable before Jeongguk can actually take a good look at you. And breakfast too. You’re hungry. 

“Which means I’m also half asleep.” 

“Hmm but you’re responding in full sentences.” 

“Ugh,” he rolls over and away from you, something you instantly regret. “Okay, fine. I’m awake.”

His hair is a birds nest on top of his head, sticking up all over the place, but a thought crosses your mind of Jeongguk with a perm. A perm and longer hair, framing his face in a shaggy 90s style, and your insides turn to mush. 

Anything would probably suit him with a face like that. 

And his body is absolute perfection. You get the urge to reach under the covers, under the fabric of his shirt and feel his stomach once more. Like you’re confirming the presence of steel cut abs and wide shoulders and squishable pecs. 

“Sleep okay?” You ask him, turning on your side to watch his chest expand and recede with his breathing. 

Jeongguk nods, rubbing one of his eyes. “Like a baby. You?” His head turns to face you and he’s got this dreamy, half-awake, smile on his lips that makes you melt. 

“Same.”

You want to kiss his cheek and snuggle into the warmth of his chest. Jeongguk was so comfortable to sleep next to you and his body, while taut, is huggable like a giant teddy bear. He didn’t mind you clinging to him at first, slowly turning away when it got too hot or you wanted to change positions. It was honestly some of the best sleep you’ve gotten. 

Carefully peeling the covers off, you stretch your arms up to crack all of the tightened areas. 

“I’ll put out a disposable toothbrush for you and,” you turn around to find Jeongguk slowly sitting up, looking cute with your patterned sheets underneath him, “then we can talk about breakfast. Are you a savory or sweet kind of guy?”

Jeongguk’s eyes flutter upwards in thought, lips quirking to one side. “Hmmm, I usually have savory but I’ll try sweet.”

“Awesome. Waffles?”

“Hell yeah.” 

The rest of your morning is pretty simple after that. Almost as if Jeongguk never slept over. You do your regular routine and leave the bathroom to him. You feed Snowball and give her as much attention and love as she desires. She’s chirpy in the morning and the minute Jeongguk emerges from the bathroom, you’re forgotten news. 

She trots over to him, fluffy tail bouncing, and flops onto her side as Jeongguk pets her side and scratches her cheeks and under her neck. 

You can’t help but stare at the scene with a warm gooey smile on your face. Jeongguk has always loved animals and seeing him interact with them is such a soft, sweet, beautiful moment. 

Going back to the kitchen cabinets, you pull out your waffle maker and make a few with the batch you’ve prepared. Some with chocolate chips sprinkled inside. Knowing Jeongguk, you put out some chopped fruit, bacon, and make some fluffy eggs. You want him to be full and happy when he leaves. 

Plus, you like doing stuff like this; cooking for people and making them happy.  It’s fun. 

Jeongguk strolls into the room, humming a song under his breath and pausing when he sees the spread you’ve put out for the two of you. Looking like a continental buffet at a hotel. Your head turns and you smile as he stares down at the steaming plates. 

“Wait…I should’ve helped you. I’m sorry,” he pouts, twisting his fingers at the base of his stomach. 

The stove is turned off when you walk closer to him. Droplets of water cascade down his neck and you can see the bright wine colored hickeys you left on him last night on his honey skin. The sight is delectable. You want to mark him again, mark him even more, but also don’t want to get too hasty with how much you touch him. It was a one-off after all. 

You wave it off. “Let me do this for you,” chiding, you push him to take his plate over to the coffee table/desk thing you’ve got then grab yours. “Now let’s. Do you want coffee later?” 

He shakes his head, hair swishing with his movements. “Trying to cut back on that. It’s worsening my anxiety.” 

You pause. “I didn’t know you had anxiety.” The air sizzles in silence, the only noise cutting through being the sound of your plate hitting the surface of your table. Snowball chomps on the pellets of her food. Your backs collide with the edge of your bed, shoulders brushing, knees inches apart with your legs crossed over each other, and all you can smell is Jeongguk. 

His cheeks get pinker, pursing his lips while starting on his food. “Yeah. I was diagnosed in high school. Working out helped a lot with it and same with gaming and sketching but the more I drink coffee, the more anxious I get.” 

“Oh… I’m sorry.” You wilt next to him. 

You know how bad it can get. You’ve seen your friends struggle with it, having attacks before a large test or getting fidgety in public spaces. It’s terrible. 

“S’ok. I’m doing a lot better than before.” You watch out of the corner of your eye as Jeongguk eats. He’s nonchalant about it which calms you. “Taehyung tried to get me into smoking weed with him but I feel like that would worsen it.” 

Snickering, you start eating too. The image of a relaxed Taehyung and a paranoid Jeongguk, when it’s usually the complete opposite, is sort of hilarious. 

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Weed is either amazing for people with anxiety or it will literally give you a panic attack. Especially if you smoke too much.” Thinking back to your first year of college, when you decided to go crazy by smoking a joint and from a pipe and then from a bong, while in the middle of a forest on a camping trip. 

Safe to say, you thought someone was going to come out of the bushes and beat your ass for smoking underage. Jeongyeon had to take you back to the dorms and help you calm down. It was bad. 

But it was a learning lesson and you know to pace yourself with weed now. Unlike your friends, you don’t do it as often. It’s great when you’re plastered though or if you want to really enjoy a meal. 

Jeongguk laughs with you. Then his eyes focus on something and you stop halfway when bringing the fork of food to your mouth. Raising an eyebrow in question, he just reaches over to tuck your hair out of face and behind your ear. 

“You can say no but,” he exhales, fixating on the way your lips pout just a bit as you chew, “I really want to kiss you right now. Can I?” 

Then your stomach flips. 

He’s such a good guy, you think. You aren’t used to being around good guys. 

Probably because deep down you think you’ll ruin them or you don’t deserve them but hey, you’re no therapist. 

Jeongguk is too good. He’s too sweet and you just know that whatever brew of emotions that is bubbling up in you screams trouble but you simply can’t hold yourself back. Not when he looks this cute and soft and pretty in your room, asking politely to do your hair for you, eating the food you made him after a night of passion. 

Swallowing whatever was in your mouth, you drop your fork on the plate and get up on your knees. Jeongguk’s reaction is comical. His eyes widen like he’s going to get yelled at, hands jumping to his sides but that is far from the truth. 

Instead, you settle on his lap, wrists crossed behind his neck to toy with the back of his soft hair. 

“Wh–did I–” he doesn’t even get to finish. You kiss Jeongguk briefly on the nose. 

His eyes blink largely at you, bouncing down to your lips in a silent plea, and who are you to say no to someone like Jeongguk who asked so kindly? Leaning back down, gently connecting your lips with his in a soft slow kiss. He meets your movements, smooth lips kissing you back wetly while his hands move to your hips. 

You don’t mean to get lost in the kiss but it’s quite hard. Jeongguk is really good at kissing and his body's so warm against yours. Pressing closer, you try to lick into his mouth to deepen the kiss but Jeongguk’s hands slip down and grip your ass harshly. 

Gasping, you pull away. An unexpected action from him since he was so careful and gentle with you last night but you liked it. 

The sheer thought of him getting rougher with you has you wet. 

You decide to finally answer his question. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Whatever I want?” He teases back. 

“Mhmm.”

Jeongguk pushes some hair out of your eyes. “Giving me all of that power is a bit dangerous, you know?” And even though he’s joking and you know that, you take it literally, wanting him to know this before he leaves. 

Because it’s the wholehearted truth. 

“I trust you, though. I trust you a lot.” 

Jeongguk isn’t going to treat you like most of the men in your life. He won’t discard you for someone better, stringing you along with kind words just to get you to do what they want, and leave you broken hearted. He simply isn’t that kind of guy. He’s sweet and patient and attentive. The kind of guy you should be going after. 

Sadly it’s taken you this long to realize it and this much hurt for you to change but it’s a start. 

His eyes glimmer at you from your spot. You almost don’t want to get up because of how breathtaking his eyes look reflecting the stars hidden by the light. 

“I know you won’t hurt me,” you continue, enamored. “So do what you want and if I don’t like it, I’ll tell you, okay?” Cupping his round, soft cheeks in your hands, you wait for nod. A slow, sure, steady one to cement this declaration right then and there. 

Just as you lean down for another searing kiss, your phone starts blaring from your bed. The alarm you forgot to switch off. Fuck. 

With a groan, you press the off button and your normal phone lock screen shows a notification from your mother. Still on Jeongguk’s lap, you press on it to read her text. 

mom 

stopping by in thirty

wanted to drop off some kimchi before i go back home

Fuck, you forgot. Your mom had an offsite trip for work in Incheon and before going back to your apartment, she wanted to give you some food for the weekend since your apartment was in between. 

There’s no way she’ll let it slide that Jeongguk slept the night and your mom is no idiot. With all of the hickeys on his neck and the awkward we-wanna-fuck tension that is ever building between you two after last night’s taste, you’ll be getting grilled till you’re on your deathbed.  

Quickly, you send her a thumbs up and toss your phone onto your bed, then look down at Jeongguk’s confused, cute face. “My mom is coming over in thirty minutes. Do you think we can finish by then?”

“F-finish what?” 

You’re confused for a whole second until you remember you’re on his lap and you were just making out with him. A soft giggle leaves your lips before you press another kiss to his nose and a quick kiss to his pouty lips. 

“Finish eating.” Finger trailing along the soft cut of Jeongguk’s jawline, flicking the hanging hoops in his ears. “Sorry baby, we’ll have to reschedule the other thing.” 

The pet name flies out once more but you’re less upset about it. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, his reddened ears tell you quite the opposite. 

You try to get up once more but Jeongguk’s arms wind tightly around you. With a soft thud, your ass hits his lap again. He isn’t hard and his sweatpants are thicker than you remember it to be so you don’t feel anything. But the action still surprises you. 

“You can still stay here and eat with me.” He demands petulantly. Big eyes, the roundest nose, cutest cheeks, and all of those moles scattered across his face like stars in the sky. 

And how can you say no? 

Breakfast is finished with you perched on his lap delicately, back against Jeongguk’s chest, while watching some random children’s cartoons that happened to be playing this early. It’s comfortable, almost intimate to be eating this close to each other and not have it be sexual. You had fully expected things to get raunchy today, especially when you were kissing, and usually when you stay over with a hookup, morning sex is promised. 

Considering the extraneous variables, that can’t happen today, so you imagined Jeongguk would drop the closeness and go back to being platonic to you. Having him do the opposite is surprising. 

You really like it. 

Jeongguk’s chest is warm, broad, firm with muscle, and he smells like a mixture of his own scent and your skincare products. His arms fit snugly around you, like you can melt into his touch without another thought. You love the way he feels. So much so that tearing apart to let him leave is borderline painful. 

Snowball has it especially rough. She rubs her head against Jeongguk’s calf, purring and trilling fyr him to stay and pet her when he’s posted by the door. 

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry,” Jeongguk coos, tugging at her cheeks and smoothing over the area. 

You want to cry at the visual. 

The walk down is silent. Your keys jingle in your hands, shoes tapping on the linoleum floor, and Jeongguk doesn’t say much until the elevator takes the two of you to the lobby and outside your apartment building. It’s a slightly overcast day out. The sun peeks through the clouds and happens to land right on Jeongguk, illuminating him like an angel. 

“So uh… I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”

You nod slowly. “See you.”

Fuck it, you think, stepping off the platform leading into the lobby and wrapping Jeongguk in a quick hug. Arms around his neck, hugging him close to your body and giving him a firm squeeze. 

Jeongguk returns it quickly, like a reflex. It’s soft, warm, and just what you needed before letting him go. 

Just before your arms slip, you kiss the mole on his neck once, and slowly push off. You really don’t want to. You feel so safe whenever he touches you and smiles at you but you really don’t have any other choice. 

“Bye noona.”

“Bye.” 

Jeongguk’s departure is quick, waving bye as he crosses the street to get to the subway station further down the block. But you still feel the lingering ghost of his lips and touch on your skin. Almost like you’re savoring it for one more second. 

And you’re so caught up that you don’t even notice the camera aimed at you that’s been snapping pictures for the past ten minutes. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The day had been weird the moment your foot stepped onto campus. 

Being the esteemed rebound girl meant that people looked at you. Mostly men but you still got glances, sexual ones or judgy ones or interested ones. Not that you’re bragging, you never warranted them in the first place as they always come with negative intentions, but the glances you were getting today felt different. People were whispering, more than usual, and it was starting to bother you.

The first thing you did was check to see if you were wearing pants. Which you were so we can count accidental nudity off the list. 

 Then you rushed to the bathroom to check if you accidentally sat on a chocolate bar or bled through your jeans or your bra is showing through your shirt or there’s a line of toilet paper stuck to your shoe. 

It has to be a physical issue. Otherwise people would be reacting like this, right?

But you didn’t find anything on you. Not even a smudge of mascara. 

 It’s weird because you’re dressed rather simply. A black hoodie with some light wash jeans since you were in the middle of your period and didn’t want to deal with putting in effort today. What the fuck is everyone’s problem then? 

Looking down, you walk as fast as you can from class to class, barely talking to anyone besides your  friends and only if absolutely necessary. In between classes you have your earbuds in and you avoid any eye contact. Even during discussions, you sit in the back and draw in the margins, not even bothering to listen and contemplating leaving early. A group of girls that you recognize to be from Juri’s group are being especially nasty, giggling whenever you look in their general vicinity. 

This is starting to get really annoying. 

With a half a mind to ask them what’s so fucking funny, discussion ends early and you have a lunch date with the rest of your friends so you bolt out of there, slamming your lunch tray down on the table with much confusion from your two friends. You explain it to them while eating in hopes that they can crack the code too. 

“Maybe they think you’re pretty,” Nayeon tries. 

“I didn’t even put foundation on. I highly doubt they think I’m pretty,” you mumble the last bit, crossing your arms over the table and resting your forehead on them. “They’re laughing at me.”

Like a fly buzzing by your ear, their giggles irritate you beyond comprehension.  

Embarrassing. That’s the best way to describe the surface of how you feel. Embarrassed and paranoid and scared because of how everyone seems to be in on a joke except for you. 

For a second, you go back to the insecure teenager in high school who just wanted someone around. Who wanted love and affection and popularity because who fucking doesn’t at that age?  Only for all of those popular cool kids to be making fun of you, laughing at your expense, and reminding you of everything you were insecure about. This feels just like that. 

“Do you think Wooshik did something?”

You look up, scanning the cafeteria for a mop of black hair and he’s chilling with his new girl who he’s been absolutely obsessed with judging by his expression. He looks like he’s having the time of his life ever since you two ended your little spat.

Wooshik is petty but only when he’s been slighted. If he’s happy then he’s pretty harmless. So there’s no way it’s him. 

“Nah. There has to be something else.” You start picking at the skin on the side of your thumb, where it’s gotten a bit dry thanks to the change in weather. 

The cafeteria is loud today, more people opting to stay inside rather than walk around for a restaurant to eat at since it’s bound to start raining any time soon. It feels like millions of people crowd in every pocket of space available yet your brain fixates on the eyes trained on you. Like they are all pointing, laughing, guffawing at whatever joke they are making at your expense. You start to sweat, feeling cornered in your spot. 

You should be used to this being the college’s rebound girl but everyone’s disdain for you has never been so apparent. People stuck to their occasional disapproving looks and maybe, there was a low comment when news of you hooking up with another person circled the campus but it’s never been this bad before. 

All of the worst possible outcomes form inside your head. Did someone sneak into your house and take nude photos of you? Maybe someone from your high school came and told some bullshit story? 

What else could the reason be?

“Hey guys.” Jeongguk smiles, setting down a cup of instant noodles and pulling you out of your spiral. “Taehyung and Jimin are in the bathroom but they’ll be here soon.” Gently, he plops next to you and the scent of him is enough to calm you down. 

Familiar, sweet and soft as always. 

And he looks great in a navy blue Nike hoodie and black jeans, oversized as always, but you’re one of the few people that knows what he looks like underneath all of those clothes. 

So much honey toned skin; a chiseled stomach and chest; defined arms and legs; gorgeous, truly gorgeous. 

Jeongyeon furrows her eyebrows at him. “Why aren’t you eating the cafeteria food?” She asks with concern. 

“Ah, I'm not super hungry. I had a big breakfast,” Jeongguk waves off, showing the ⅔ full cup of ramen he had. “I’m probably gonna go home early too since I have a League of Legends match with my team soon.” 

You nod in response, half-listening. Jeongguk had explained his gaming league thing to you a few days ago. He used to be on a team for fun but he’s currently trying to join a semi-professional one for fun since he isn’t in any clubs or organizations on campus. Not that Jeongguk is particularly interested in those but, these gaming leagues have been calling out to him for a while.

Anyways, this game is supposed to serve as kind of an audition and if he does well enough, he’s in. You silently hope for his success. 

Then there’s a gentle nudge at your side. “How’d you do on the physics quiz?” Jeongguk asks, taking some steaming noodles to his mouth with a pair of perfectly split chopsticks. 

“100%.” You beamed. It was a shock to you when you saw the score online but mostly relieving. 

“Yay, that’s great.” Jeongguk held out a palm for a high-five which you reciprocated, wishing you could just kiss him. The way he smiles so brightly was enough to get you to forget about all of the eyes on you, almost increasing when you started interacting with him. “Knew you could do it.”

“Well I’d have to thank my tutor.”   

His eyes roll. “Sure but I barely did anything. You knew most of it already.” 

Nayeon and Jeongyeon laugh at the face you make, then prompt Jeongguk to try to get him to start tutoring them. When he asks what subject, they just say all of them, which makes him cutely blush for some reason. He’s a deadly mix of cute, adorable, sweet, hot and sexy and you cannot handle when each of those characteristics hit you in one go. 

You almost start to tease him about it when a set of two drop harshly onto the table’s bench with an air of annoyance around them. Suddenly, all of the bright happiness floats away. 

“Jeongguk, have you been lying to me?” Taehyung asks point blank with a hurt expression on his face. Jeongguk’s smile begins to fade. 

“About what? You know I was just joking when I said your orange hair looked funny–”

The brunette’s frown deepens. “Not about that. I mean about the girl who supposedly dumped you? And who the fuck is RG anyways?” Taehyung asks with a shake of his head, coffee colored tufts swishing in the wind.   

RG?

“What?” Jeongguk’s chin pulls back.Your panic is instant. “What are you talking about?”

Jimin cuts in with an annoyed groan. “Some guy in the bathroom was telling us about a rumor going around that this older girl dumped you and now you’re sleeping with someone else to get back at her.” Your stomach drops. No, this can’t be happening. “Apparently it was posted on some forum called–”

“GossipLeaks,” Jeongyeon supplies. The younger three look at her in confusion while Nayeon cringes. “It's this depraved site where losers with no social skills sit and refresh the page for drama from every department to fill the void inside of them instead of getting a job. Usually a person will upload a picture or start a thread and people will exchange gossip, start gossip, discuss gossip or talk shit until their fingers start bleeding. It’s hell on earth.” 

You hate that fucking site so much. It played a huge role in creating your reputation after all. 

Almost every single person on campus is there. Nayeon went slightly viral when she dumped her situationship for Jeongyeon by throwing a smoothie over his head after he said something rude to her. Someone threatened to leak their ex’s nudes to the website because they were cheated on.  Incels crowd on so they can hate on women while others live for the gossip, scrolling relentlessly to point and laugh even though their lives aren’t anything to be proud of. 

It has yet to be taken down since nothing bad is actually exchanged besides harsh words but the site is barely moderated. Not as much as it should be. 

Anyone who crosses a line has the potential to be sued but since most college students are broke, the possibility is rare. Sounds amazing, right? 

Now poor Jeongguk is at the receiving end. You can’t believe someone is lying about sleeping with him and about him rebounding with someone else. Jeongguk hasn’t even had sex before and (as far as you know) you’re the only person who has touched him. Who could do something like this?

“Show me the post,” he asks, resting his elbows on the table’s surface.  

Jimin searches it up on his phone and then places the device down, scrolling through the threads with a small pointer finger and clicking on one, then turning it towards you two. 

The pictures take a second to load but reading the post header was enough to make your mouth run dry. 

RG’s newest conquest: some loser 2nd year that was brutally dumped by Social Sciences student representative Kim Juri over the summer.

Oh great, Juri spread the rumor. Now you have the perfect reason to manifest her getting shit on by a bird. 

“Wh–” you can’t even finish your sentence. The pictures load and it’s even worse than you imagined. 

First is the two of you standing outside of your apartment building. There’s a breath of distance between your bodies and you’re laughing at something he said. His face crinkles as well, the dimples on his cheeks pop out. It looks friendly but it can easily be misconstrued. 

And the second one is of the two of you hugging, squished together like you’re trying to become one whole person, and that seals the deal. 

Your heart drops to the heels of your feet. You’re RG. Of course you’re fucking RG. Rebound Girl = RG. It’s practically part of your identity.

Suddenly, everything is making sense. The people laughing, staring at you; it’s another scandal all over again only this time, you roped in someone you actually cared about instead of someone broken hearted you decided to sleep with a few times. Now his name is soured by the stench of your bad decisions. 

You want to cry. You didn’t–you couldn’t drag Jeongguk or anyone else for the matter into your mess. 

It was always your problem to handle on your own. It was always your cross to bear. The guys you fucked never mattered once it was all said and done. Most of the time, they got street cred or they were praised while you were the dirty slut so it wasn’t like you could feel bad for them. They were always painted as the winners. But you’re terrified of what this could do for Jeongguk. 

Would he get harassed? Made fun of for giving in easily? Would he lose his chances of finding someone he actually likes this year? 

Would he want nothing to do with you afterwards?

You begin to panic, spiraling deep into the depths of your self-hating brain. How could you miss someone snapping a picture of you two in broad daylight? You should’ve done better. 

This is the worst possible thing you could imagine coming out of hanging with Jeongguk is that he would become privy to the mess that is your social life. A small part of your brain even considered this, especially after Jeongguk rejected Juri but you let it go and now you’re pissed because you should’ve been smarter. 

You should’ve pushed him away, studied on your own that night. No, you should’ve been more careful. 

You should’ve never thought you could openly hang out with him and not suffer the consequences. What were you thinking?

Once everyone has read the post, Jimin takes his phone back and continues scrolling through. No one says anything for a moment, then:

“Guys, don’t believe a word that comes out of Kim Juri’s lying mouth. She hates us,” Nayeon motions to you, her and Jeongyeon, “and she’ll do anything to make other people follow suit. Trust me.” She stresses, even abandoning her meal to reiterate. Jeongyeon nods animatedly. But the problem is much deeper than that. 

You wanted to be friends but she never entertained the idea after you got labeled as the rebound girl. Constantly tormenting you, throwing your promiscuity in your face, and denying your efforts to reconcile. 

At some point, you grew some humility and dropped the idea of you and Juri ever getting along. You’re a girl's girl but you also don’t hate yourself to desperately pine over some mean girl’s approval. 

So, now things have turned out like this.  

This is so annoyingly unfair. It's tiring  living like this, pretending like you aren’t bothered and that taking the high ground will benefit you. All you do is let Juri get away because you know deep down that fighting back has no point. 

“What a loser,” Jimin curses, turning to you with that apologetic look on his soft features. 

Taehyung does the same. “Yeah, she must have a lot of free time on her hands if this is all she does.” 

You return their kind words with a weak but meaningful smile. It doesn’t make the storm brewing up inside of you go away. It just makes things worse. Because yes, Juri is a loser but she’s only a loser in your eyes. Everyone else sees her as the complete opposite. People will always be on her side. She’s done great PR to make you look like a dick-thirsty, back-stabbing bitch. There’s no way anyone would support you. 

At the least, you’d have your two friends but Jeongguk and Jimin and Taehyung don’t need to be dragged into this war with Juri. Let them have fun, mess around, and be normal college kids while you take the heat. It’s always been that way after all. 

Jeongyeon snorts. “She’ll get some karma in return for all of this. I can just feel it.” 

There’s a slight lull in the conversation. You feel like the boys are doing their best to hold back from asking the question, the one that you really don’t want them to, while your friends are doing their best to maintain the light composure that was just there. 

It’s coming. That question. You know it is. 

Those words were blatantly on the screen and they aren’t idiots. They’re probably connecting the dots as you sit here and panic about it and you simply cannot handle those words coming from their mouths. Especially Jeongguk’s. 

Considering you watched him grow up, he’s the last person you’d want to know about being the rebound girl. 

Jeongguk’s mouth opens. You can practically see the cogs and wheels in his brain turn and that’s it for you.  

Immediately, you get up from your spot. They all look at you, concerned and confused. There’s a heavy layer of pity that now disgusts you too much for you to stay. 

“I should go,” you mumble, grabbing your things as quickly as possible. 

All of their faces morph into shock. “What?” The three boys say at the same time. 

“Babe, no, it’s fine.” Jeongyeon tries but you’ve already finished your food and your phone and bag are slung over your shoulder. 

A single touch grazes the back of your hand. “Noona, you don’t have to–”

You shake your head and dip your eyes down, refusing to be reasonable. 

“I’ll talk to you guys later. Bye.” 

This is for the best. 

Put some distance between you and Jeongguk, let the rumor die down a little, and then maybe you can hang out with him in private. Obviously no more kissing or hooking up so you’ll have to force whatever is growing inside of you to die off but you can do that. Yeah, no problem.  

Then Jeongguk can find a girl he really likes and be with her without the implications of whatever went on between the two of you looming over his head and ruining his chances. 

You turn and exit the cafeteria before anyone can stop you, taking long strides and putting a surgical mask over your face to block out your features. You even draw your hood up and shove earbuds in so you wouldn’t have to hear anymore whispers. 

Although the effort is futile; all your brain does is repeat the same words over and over again. 

Slut. 

Whore. 

Rebound girl. 

They’re starting to become synonymous with your name. Maybe you should stop pretending like you’re anything different and just accept the name for what it is. Maybe Junho was right after all. Seojoon too. 

Maybe you’re good for nothing else but a fun romp every once in a while. A tight hole and a soft wet mouth, pliant for any man who gives you attention because you’re so desperate for it, desperate for love. 

You always thought that you were hardwired wrong by always believing men when they tell you that they’re broken and beg for you to lick their wounds. That you simply just never learn from your mistakes no matter how intense they get because of that idiotic faulty screw in your skull that wants you to give this guy the benefit of the doubt. 

But maybe, you’re simply an awful person. 

Maybe you don’t actually care about the guys. You just have some shitty savior complex turned into a hunger for hurting men. Maybe you’re an awful person who deserves this. 

Before you can stop it, tears stream down your cheeks, rolling down your neck and underneath your hoodie as you walk as fast as you can towards the subway station. That tightness in your chest worsening as the very last bits of strength you were holding onto crumble into nothing. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The hangout was extremely impromptu. 

Jeongguk hadn’t seen you for the rest of the week and he was starting to get worried. You had responded to his texts in short, curt words, saying you were sick and that your professors were emailing you PDFs of classwork so there was no need to pick up anything. When he offered to bring some soup, you declined once more saying your mom was already bringing some and since then, he hasn’t found another excuse to come see you. 

It hurt. It hurt watching you get hurt, it hurt watching you hold back tears as you ran off to hide your hurt and it fucking hurts watching you pretend like everything is okay when it’s not. 

Jeongguk doesn’t care about the rumor. So what if people were staring and he got teased every now and then? It’s not true so it didn’t matter. 

But he realized, seeing your reaction, that the two of you were getting treated differently. 

While everyone was praising him for getting laid by “rebound girl,” and other girls began debating his potential in bed, you were getting vilified beyond anything. He heard girls in his class degrade you, calling you a slut, a whore, saying that you’d sleep with anyone if it gave you enough attention. Jeongguk would glare in their direction, scaring them off, but the whispers still swirled around him. 

After that, he wanted that stupid website to be filled with malware and be destroyed. Hell, he’d do it himself if that wasn’t a cybercrime. This whole thing has been blown way out of proportion. 

And, holy shit, the things men have been saying to him… 

It’s honestly disgusting. 

Ayyy, get it Jeon!

Knew you were a fucking stallion behind that nerdy look you got goin on.

Did she suck you off? I heard she’s really good with her mouth.

Someone came up to him and expressed regret that Jeongguk was the first and only second year to get with rebound girl, claiming he wanted to be the first but because you’re so picky, he couldn’t. Jeongguk had almost punched him but Taehyung held him back, reminding him that he could lose his scholarship too if he stooped too low. 

He hates this and he hates that you have to go through something like this. 

For the past few days, all Jeongguk could think about was how strong you were. He doesn’t know how you got this nickname, why it’s such a big deal to everyone around you, but he wished it never happened. Thanks to this rumor, you had to grow a thick skin so that you could simply be you and not have to worry about other people but unfortunately, misogyny is rampant. It made you become strong, become resilient, and he wishes that it wasn’t because of that. 

Jeongguk thought up some kind of plan to get Juri to take the post down or to publicly clear the air but he also didn’t want to play the white knight, trampling all over a situation that barely involved him. Stepping on your toes by trying to solve this could only hurt you further. 

So all he could do was wait. 

Wait for you to text back, wait for you to reappear. 

Jeongguk grows antsy and he tries to distract himself from worrying. School isn’t helping one bit so he plays games and goes to the gym as much as he can. And when that doesn’t work well–

Thankfully, his friends are an interesting bunch which brings him back to the reason why this whole hang out started. 

Nayeon and Jeongyeon were walking over with Jimin while Taehyung was hounding Jeongguk at the campus entrance over something he absolutely hates doing: buying weed. 

“C’mon, he’s literally giving it to you for free!” Taehyung whined, showing the text on Jeongguk’s phone to him like he hasn’t already read it, eyes rolling at his friends’ desperation. 

Let’s get one thing clear: Jeongguk has no problem with weed. He almost had an edible once by complete accident but he spit the rest out the minute his cousin told him that the gummy was laced with contraband so the effect didn’t do much for him. Being friends with these two dipshits means that the smell constantly follows him and he’s used to dealing with their giggly asses every now and then. Taehyung has a bong hidden in his apartment while Jimin aptly had a bright pink pipe patterned with cats all over it but he dropped it and loudly sobbed when the thing cracked in half. 

He isn’t a goody-two shoes but, speaking candidly, he’s never really felt the need to do it. 

It’s the same with alcohol. Jeongguk doesn’t get the urge to sit down with a beer and crack one open after a long day nor does he ever want to get shitfaced for fun. He needs to have complete control over himself and everything he does and everything he says because he gets the feeling that he’d be the type to tell someone his PIN number when inebriated or irritate everyone with his antics which is probably related to his anxiety but whatever. So nothing about the practice is relaxing to him. Getting drunk or high can actually make Jeongguk really fucking nervous but his peers disagree. 

Especially Taehyung who is a staunch believer that smoking weed is the best way to calm down and that food tastes better when high. Jeongguk is a bit curious about that last bit. 

But back to the begging. To make a long fucking story short: Jeongguk knows a dealer. 

Not voluntarily. A seedy 3rd year who he also tutored over the summer made sure to let Jeongguk know that he would give him some free shit he wanted as payback for all of the help passing Chemistry. Never did he think he’d take the guy up on his offer until now. 

Taehyung filled everyone in on the backstory and now Jeongguk has four people begging him like dogs wanting a treat. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing in irritation. 

“What if I get caught?” He asked; the most important question. 

Jimin countered back. “You won’t. He’s literally going to hand you a regular-ass bag and no one will suspect a thing. We can take it from you as soon as you get back here and smoke some today,” he offered, met with cheers of approval.  

Jeongguk’s chest twists. He wishes you were here to help. You were still nowhere to be found and he misses you so much. You’d probably laugh that cute laugh of yours, egg Jeongguk on with the rest of them but have concern in your pretty eyes to let him know that this wasn’t peer pressure. That he could say no and it wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

Unfortunately, he has to face this alone. 

Jeongguk gives the two girls a surprised look. “Did you two already finish your tin of edibles?” 

“Nah, we’re gonna save that for midterms so we can get zonked and watch Shark Tale while eating fried chicken.”  Jeongyeon answers, tugging  Nayeon close. 

“Awww,” Taehyung pouted. “Can we do that?” Turning to his boyfriend and gently gripping the sleeve of his shirt. 

Jimin winked at the younger. “Whatever you want baby,” then turned to the other, “but only if Einstein over here can grow some balls and say yes.” Taehyung directs his puckered lips towards him, batting his eyelashes like a cartoon character. 

Jeongguk is a weak man. He can be a people pleaser but only to those who he loves. His sisters, you and his two best friends fall into that category. 

Because one pout from Taehyung and he folds, like the weak man he is. 

“Fuck, fine. I’ll ask,” he unlocks his phone and texts the dude. “But only once! Just go to your trusted guy after this, okay?”

Taehyung and Jimin salute him. “Yes sir!” 

Jeongguk texts the guy to hand it over to him after his last class after lunch, who was more than happy to supply the guy who helped him pass his summer classes. In fact, he looked proud, jabbing Jeongguk with his pointy elbow and saying that he’s finally pulling that stick out of his ass. Whatever, Jeongguk is not that uptight. He can have fun in lots of other ways!

But  Jimin was right. The smell is barely there and the bag itself looks inconspicuous. His curiosity took over him to peek inside while walking with the others. There was a silver tin, a bag of powdered weed, a pack of peach ring edibles and two brownies. 

“Fuck, this is so much,” Jeongyeon marvels at the bag as they reach the outside of ana apartment building, pulling out the silver tin and gasping when it opens up to a set of rolled joints. “Oh my, he gave you pre-rolled joints! We’re hitting these right now.” 

Which is how Jeongguk found himself in Nayeon's studio apartment. Sitting around a coffee table with the spiked food and her TV playing Sailor Moon. He did his best to not think about how her room looked a lot like yours with all of the cute stuffed animals and posters and how her little pomeranian dog yapped happily whenever he gave it attention. The bed that he’s leaning against reminds him of the same bed where the two of you laid while your lips and hands and tongue made him feel things he’s never felt before. 

Jeongguk can’t stop thinking about you. It takes all of his restraint not to shoot you a text, not to associate everything he sees with memories of you and that night in particular. 

But he should stop so he idiotically doesn’t pop a boner with everyone else around. Thinking of you usually does that for him. 

So he focuses on the clouds of smoke blown right in front of his face as Nayeon starts on the joint. She coughs just a bit, then passes it to Jeongyeon who takes two indulgent puffs and then passes it to Taehyung and then Jimin.  Their eyes glaze over, tension from the long school day disappearing as the drugs take their effect. 

“You wanna try it?” Jimin asks, holding the flamed stick towards Jeongguk. He stares down at it, then up at his friends’ reddened eyes. 

Does he?

Everyone else seems so relaxed and Jeongguk could use some relaxation. Besides, it won’t kill him to take one hit. He’s surrounded by seasoned potheads so they’ll know what to do. It’ll be fine. Everything is fine. Maybe he’ll stop fretting over you and relax. Clear his brain for once.

Carefully, he places the tip between his lips and Taehyung explains the process. Inhale, hold it for a bit, exhale slowly. It’s supposed to burn at first and then it’ll get better. He coughs like a motherfucker and his throat might as well be on fire. But he drinks some water, tries again, and it’s a lot easier. 

Weed has a particular taste that Jeongguk doesn’t mind. The smoke is somewhat bitter on his tongue and then earthy. He feels nothing then, five minutes later, he gets this lightness in his chest and head. Or a fuzziness is more like it.  He’s almost sleepy and really hungry. Jeongguk begins devouring a packet of chocolate covered pretzels and then scarfing down two slices of pizza right after eating lunch only two hours ago. Those two things have never tasted so good before. 

Jeongguk also finds that weed makes him giggly. Like really giggly. 

He spent two minutes laughing at the way his toes looked with his toe socks on. Then about how long Taehyung’s fingers are in comparison to Jimin’s, then about the word duty (hilarious) to the point of tears springing from his eyes. Then Jeongyeon wanted to paint his nails which Jeongguk was all for and he chose a metallic midnight blue which she skilfully painted before starting on the others. Taehyung got maroon and Jimin got lilac.

Afterwards, the conversation lulled and their stomachs were full. Most of them were on the brink of falling asleep until Jimin proposed they all play a game. 

It was basically the game Hot Takes but without any cards with prompts and dividing up into teams. Basically each person had to share a “hot take,” or an opinion/commentary that’s uncommon or meant to start a debate. 

Which is a great game to play when the entire gang is not sober. 

Taehyung started off with a simple one: people who don’t like pineapple on pizza are immature babies. This sparked quite the argument to the point where Jeongyeon was questioning their friendship before the timer went off. Then she shared hers. 

Men who don’t like cats are red flags. This is factually true though. No one really disagreed so they moved on. 

Then Jimin went. His was: Men who refuse to listen to female artists are also raging red flags. Very much true. No debate there. 

Then Jeongguk: Vanilla is the worst ice cream flavor.  It tastes like a candle. Like nothing. Jeongguk hates tasteless things. Some agreed with him, Jimin glared at him from the side but his cheeks were puffed with food so he’s nowhere near as intimidating as he’d think.

Then came Nayeon. She cleared her throat, then popped a green tea kit kat in her mouth. “As someone who has hooked up with both men and women, I can surely say that men don’t know how to give head.” She says confidently. 

Silence rings in the air for a moment. Jeongyeon is sitting smug next to her girlfriend, while Jimin and Taehyung look confused. 

And Jeongguk…well, he’s a bit confused too.

“Excuse you, I give great head,” Jimin places a hand on his chest, offended. “Have you seen these luscious lips? And I don’t have a gag reflex!”

Nayeon rolls her eyes. “Okay, well I don’t know how it goes for men but I’m talking about going down on women. They suck at it and most women agree.” Her arms cross over her chest confidently. 

Jeongguk immediately thinks about you. He wants to know if you would agree. 

Taehyung rests his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder. “How so?”

“They don’t do the right things. Porn has rotted their brains to thinking that moaning into it and moving their tongue around you is enough when it isn’t. You can’t just wiggle it around and expect me to scream and come like a paid actress.” Nayeon huffs. “I used to think something was wrong with me until,” she trails off, pink dusting her cheeks and it’s clear what she meant. Jeongyeon’s shoulders grow even higher with confidence. “A-and you can’t even tell them that it doesn’t feel good because then you bruise their ego and they’ll never do it again.”

Hearing that, Jeongguk begins to panic. 

Is he like that? Did he not listen to you that night? 

Fuck, he’s so selfish. Did you even enjoy it when he touched you? Did he even ask?

No You definitely felt something, he felt you coming, but was it good? Was he being selfish?

Oh god. Oh godgodgodgod. 

“Honestly, they should take note from us,” Jeongyeon pulls Nayeon close. “I’ve never gotten complaints.” She looks cutely proud. 

Taehyung pipes up. “I think us gays are just better at sex,” he feigns nonchalance while everyone hollers and toasts to their perfect, idealistic, amazing sex lives. 

Everyone but Jeongguk. 

All he does is think

That night when he got hard, he had no idea things would escalate to where they did but he’s so glad because he loved every second of it. From kissing, to your teasing tone, to your mouth around him, to his fingers inside of you and all the way until you came; it was perfect. Since then, Jeongguk has thought about another opportunity way more than he’d like to admit. He’s more confident now and he wants to try more things. 

Gone is the first time insecurity. Jeongguk wants to take control, watch you shake and cry and beg for more. He wants you to feel good. That, in and of itself, is hot to him. 

But he also wants to do well. Jeongguk doesn’t want to be like the guys Nayeon was talking about. 

He knows the best way would be to directly ask you what you like but you aren’t here right now and Jeongguk knows he’ll chicken out when you’re all spread out underneath him and pretty all because he wants to impress you. 

Besides, he’s relied on porn this far and if Nayeon says it’s a bad example, then he needs to learn. 

Might as well take advantage of having two people who know how to please women and understand the basics. 

Sober Jeongguk would never. Sober Jeongguk would worry himself into a panic attack and then use the internet instead of an actual person but sober Jeongguk isn’t here at the moment.

At some point, Jimin and Taehyung fall asleep on top of each other with their hands half inside the pizza box and that’s when he gains the courage to go talk to your friends.

Meekly, he slinks over to the kitchen where Nayeon and Jeongyeon are standing. Their backs pressed against the counter while the kettle boils some water for ramen. They’re laughing about something until Nayeon makes eye contact with him and kindly raises a brow.

“What’s up?”

He wasn’t so nervous at first but looking at her, Jeongguk is now getting nervous. “Um, so–uh– about the-the game we were playing,” he wipes his sweaty hands on his pants. “I wanted to–and please feel free to tell me to fuck off if you’re uncomfortable, I’m not trying to be weird or anything, but–”

“Spit it out, kid,” Jeongyeon teases, poking the dimple in his cheek and making him flinch. 

Jeongguk exhales shakily, trying to slow his heart rate down some more. 

“Are all guys really that bad when they…um, when they, you know…” He circles his hands so they can fill in the blank and thankfully, the two pick up what he’s saying. Nayeon laughs at his stuttery behavior. 

“Well, I’m sure there are some guys out there that are great at eating girls out but not the ones I’ve met.” She takes a joint that was resting on a tray on the counter top, inhaling deeply, and then offers it to Jeongguk who accepts. “They just don’t know what they’re doing and they have no interest in learning, unlike women. Sex is an individual thing for them. Their pleasure and their feelings only.” Locks of honey blonde float in the air with the gentle breeze from the open kitchen window. “Why do you ask? Plan on doing it?”

He blushes, holding the smoke in for a few seconds before releasing it. “Y-yeah,” avoiding their eyes because this is so goddamn embarrassing what is he doing and it’s you he’s talking about. But they don’t have to know that. “I want her to feel good and you said that women are better at it. So I wanna learn how.”

Jeongguk wants you to feel good. 

Ever since he first touched you, he can’t get it out of his head. The noises you make, the way your legs twitch and your hips rise when you’re just about to come is so fucking hot. Jeongguk can’t imagine how much sexier you’d sound with your legs wrapped around his head or seated on his face as you come over and over and over again. Wet and sobbing and spent on top of him just like you deserve.  

But, he needs to gain some understanding before he does anything. 

Jeongyeon smiles. Jeongguk is unsure if they know he’s talking about you or if they’re assuming he’s got some other girl on the side that he wants to please but he can’t worry about that right now. Golden advice is being poured into his ears like fresh ambrosia from the gods themselves. 

“Alright, all you have to do is…”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Are you almost home?” You hear your mom’s voice pour from the speakers in your earbuds. 

Looking down the end of the street, you see your apartment building, so you bring the microphone close to your lips to speak. “Yeah, like ten seconds away.” Thank god too, your arms were hurting from carrying your tote bag and the packaged food your mom sent you away with. 

After Tuesday, when you were publicly humiliated,  you didn’t go back to school. Walking home in the rain without an umbrella gave you a slight cold and that combined with the pain you felt emotionally, resulted in you needing to go home for two days. There’s something about being doted on, eating home-cooked food, and the comfort of a parent that makes all sicknesses feel like nothing. Thankfully, she lives a 30 minute train ride from here on the opposite side of Seoul.  

It was nice. You didn’t tell your mom about what had gone down. Just gave her a basic run down as to why you got sick and not much else. 

Oh and you did tell her that you and Jeongguk reconnected but that’s about it. There’s no telling how your mother would react if she found out the two of you hooked up. You’re close with her but not that close. 

But now that you’re feeling better, you;ll probably call him and explain yourself. Then put an end to hooking up for good so you don’t repeat this mistake. 

“Make sure you carry that mini umbrella in your bag. I keep on telling you and you never listened to me,” she lectures, making you groan. 

“I know, I know, you were right,” your tone is light so she can tell you’re just messing with her. “I’ll put one in my bag as soon as I get home, okay?”

“Okay,” she sighs. The sound of the doorbell rings  in the background. “Oh shoot, okay. I have to go darling, the repairman is here to fix the washing machine. Bye! Stay safe! Eat the soup!” 

You reach the front of your apartment building anyways so no need to call. “Bye mom,” you mumble back, opening the front door and then walking to the elevators because you are too exhausted for the stairs. To use them, you scan the sensor on your keys and press the up button. 

It’s quiet in this lobby. No music, no group of people giggling or talking about their plans. It’s a Saturday evening and this building, filled with college students, is pin drop silent. 

You hate it because it leaves you alone with your tired, buzzing brain who has not been kind to you these past few days. 

Ever since that cursed post on GossipLeaks, you’ve been regretting the day you ever let a man into your life romantically. The day you had sex for the first time has been the catalyst in all of this. No peace, no happiness, just slut shaming and pain. 

Honestly, what’s the most annoying part about all of this is that your body count isn’t that high. 

Not that any number of hookups should warrant this kind of treatment.  It’s no one’s business and shaming people for having healthy consensual sex is so lame. 

Leaving Jeongguk out because you didn’t sleep with him, you’ve fucked about 30 guys. That’s over the course of almost four years since you had sex for the first time in high school.  It’s not that bad. There are guys on this campus bragging about their count being in the 200s yet not a single word of criticism or judgment is thrown their way. They’re praised and seen as gods. 

But when you have some fun casual sex every once in a while, suddenly you’re a harlot and you deserve nothing. Yeah, that sounds fair.

Switching the song on your playlist to 505 by the Arctic Monkeys, you exit the elevator to your floor and pull your keys out from the pocket of your hoodie. It’s dinner time and your mom packed your favorite. 

You open the door to find Snowball yowling at you for attention. You had Nayeon and Jeongyeon take care of her while you were back home.  She’s usually pretty okay with them but some days she simply needs to have you around. Today must’ve been one of those days.  Cooing, you set your bag on the ground and reach towards her to scratch the side of her face and pinch her cheeks. 

“Sorry baby, I’m home now, okay?” Snowball purrs in response. You pick her up and cuddle with her in your lap for a little bit until she’s had enough attention for now. 

To compensate for your absence, you got some treats too and the little ball of fur happily eats up the salmon treats while you put the food away. 

Then you light up a candle, open your windows to let the stuffy air out and begin on a few simple chores. Mainly putting the dry dishes back in the cupboard, cleaning the cat litter, some laundry and finally taking out the trash. 

You always enjoy doing these kinds of things, especially after a long few days of eating garbage and wallowing in your sick sadness. It feels nice to have fresh sheets and an empty trash can (you do the others daily already). Like a reset, a new start, which is just what you needed. 

Although, part of you feels bad for avoiding your friends for so long. 

Let’s be honest, you were embarrassed beyond anything and then the rain actually gave you a cold so some time away was 100% necessary. However, you wish you didn’t storm out without much of an explanation. You were just so embarrassed and sad and you didn’t want to cry in front of people who were clearly laughing at your demise. 

Bolting was the best choice but now that you’ve had your space, you really just want to explain yourself to the three of them, specifically Jeongguk who is directly affected by shit like this. 

While boys have it infinitely easier because they aren’t ostracized for their sexual activity, he must be uncomfortable with all of the questions being thrown his way. Maybe you’ll call him over the weekend for coffee and let him know or you could actually just facetime him so you won’t have to leave your house. Whatever, you’ll figure it out later. 

Before depositing the bags of trash to the large bins outside the apartment building, you take a quick shower, changing into a freshly washed set of clothes that are still warm from the dryer. 

Smelling like fresh laundry and the flowery scent of your lotion, you hum a song under your lips while taking the three bags outside to the bins. You think nothing of it. It’s around 8pm, most people are out right now, either going back home or leaving it. Tons of bodies are expected. 

Quickly, you round to the back of the building, dump the bags, and just as you turn the corner, your eyes meet that special pair. 

Big, sparkly, innocent when they want to be, salacious at times, but endearing nonetheless.  

“Jeongguk,” you exhale. 

He looks good, great, actually. The wind has tousled his hair around, making it look like he styled it to be messy and fluffy. Jeongguk has mastered an effortless look with a dark blue windbreaker, black cargos and white chunky sneakers. You can even see some rings on his fingers that match the ones hanging from his earlobes. 

Jeongguk turns at the sound of your voice and immediately rushes over to you. “Noona,” his eyes soften immediately, “Are you feeling better?” He asks, delicately holding you away with two hands on either side of your arms.

His touch is warm, even through the thick material of your hoodie. Makes your stomach flip. 

“Yeah, lots.” You giggle barely, patting his arm softly. “What are you doing here?” Jeongguk removes his hold on you, shoving them into the pockets of his jacket. 

“I had a meeting with my league captain’s place two blocks from here and I was going to catch the train using the station near your place.” 

“Oh.” You open your mouth to say something but his stomach rumbles loudly and Jeongguk covers the area up with his arms in embarrassment, making you smile. “Hungry?” He blinks at you widely and cutely. 

“Yeah but only if you’re okay with it. I know,” he looks to the side awkwardly, “I know you wanted space and all so it’s cool if not. I can get Subway or something.”

As kind as it is for Jeongguk to respect this boundary that you haven’t verbally admitted is already somewhat gone, you’d feel bad letting him walk around on an empty stomach. 

“I’m cool with it. My mom packed way too much anyways.”  You shrug to make him more likely to say yes. Thankfully, it works.

Jeongguk scratches the back of his neck, sniffling from the cold once and then nodding. So you beckon him to walk next to you, back inside your apartment building and inside the elevator. 

The conversation is brief and minimal, mainly asking about his week and how his meeting with his league went. You get brief responses in return which make you think he’s either annoyed with you or simply too hungry for chit chat. It’s slightly annoying that you don’t have the courage to be forthright and ask him how he’s feeling as if you didn’t have this man’s dick in your mouth a week ago. 

Come on, you think as the elevator doors part. What’s the worst that he could say?

“Yeah, I am annoyed because you left for three days and I haven’t heard from you since.”

Well, you had a reason and a valid one at that. Besides, Jeongguk wouldn’t be annoyed over something so understandable. 

The keys unlock the front door and you hold it open for Jeongguk, who slips his sneakers off and is immediately met by a curious Snowball. The moment she recognizes him, she headbuts her head into his calf, purring loudly. 

“Hi baby,” he coos, petting her after plopping on the ground. You watch from halfway to the kitchen, a smile instantly forming on your lips as Snowball practically melts under his touch. 

“She missed you,” you muse. “Looks like you’re the favorite.” 

Jeongguk snorts. “Doubt it,” he looks up at you through his lashes, flashing the one deep dimple he has on his cheek along with the various creases in his skin. 

Your heart flutters immediately. 

“I’ll reheat the food.”

There’s a comfortable silence that resumes among the two of you. Jeongguk moves to the coffee table, leans against the edge of your bed and pets a purring Snowball while you tinker in the kitchen. He turns on the TV, watches a replay of some Mnet performance and hums along softly. You bring the steaming dishes out along with rice and chopsticks, settling a comfortable distance from the younger and eating. 

He doesn’t say a word. You change the channel to the k-drama you were just binging during the train ride that you’ve watched maybe 900 times and Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. 

Your eyes well up at the romantic scenes and you bury your feelings into green tea Kit-Kats and tea. Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. 

He doesn’t say a single word until the food is all done, the drama rolls the credits and Snowball has moved to a corner far away to sleep. Then Jeongguk gains the courage to ask you. 

“Do you…do you want to talk about it?” Jeongguk asks meekly. 

At first, you had no idea what he meant. Then it hits. 

Of course he’d want some answers. It’s his name that’s attached to your stupid label. Not like you can keep Jeongguk in the dark forever, right?

You had prepared yourself for this so you weren’t as uncomfortable but when the time hits, you sort of want to crawl into a ball and die. 

You sigh, keeping your eyes on the half-finished bag of Kit-Kats. “No… yes… sort of.”

 The thing is, only two people know the full story: Nayeon and Jeongyeon. Your mom knows about high school but those two have every detail. 

Usually, you wouldn’t be so keen on spilling this out to anyone but the look on Jeongguk’s face is genuine concern and he isn’t some sleazy hookup you met at a bar. Jeongguk actually cares about you. He won’t use this against you or shame you. He’s asking because he cares.  So it should be okay.

Besides, it gets tiring holding all of this in from your mom and adding on each shitty story to the pile. It’s close to overflowing inside of you and you need to let some out. 

Jeongguk is trustworthy. He knows you. So you decide to start from the beginning of all of this. 

“My track record with guys isn’t exactly clean,” you start, staring at the Hello Kitty pattern on your socks. “The first guy I slept with only did it as a bet because he knew I really liked him.” There’s a drop in your stomach at the mere mention of Seojoon. His gentle laughter and rough hands and how he barely even flinched when he saw how much you were crying when you found out. “He told me we were dating and that he was in love with me. I stupidly believed him and let him take my virginity because I wanted him so bad that I didn’t even see the red flags. Then I saw him making out with another girl and… it sort of broke me.” 

Back then, you were quite the target. You were poor, your clothes and books were cheap, you didn’t have the newest phone or the nicest stationery and other classmates loved to point that out about you. All you wanted was to be accepted, to have friends, and fall in love. 

Everyone seems to romanticize teenage love but they never seem to talk about how difficult teenage loneliness is either. 

Seeing couples or hearing people talk about love like it was so easy made you want to scream into the void. Why couldn’t you have that? You wanted it so bad but why wasn’t it coming to you? Were you not lovable? Not worthy of a crush?

Seojoon was supposed to be your chance at teenage love only for him to hurt you the most. 

That summer break, you swore you were going to die alone. The empty loneliness began to consume you. All you wanted was for someone to care about you and instead you got ridiculed. For having feelings. It was awful and you never cared about love again. 

Some part of your brain is convinced that men are incapable of feeling love. Look at your dad, leaving without a second word, and look at Seojoon. You loved them and they burned you. 

“Then, I started college and I decided that I wouldn’t let another guy manipulate me like that ever again. I was going to stay single for a while which was fine because my department got along. We weren’t super close but it was cordial, especially us first year girls. We’d get snacks, do homework, bake together and gossip a lot. Mostly the latter because all of us were kind of obsessed with this older guy, Junho.” You explain, imagining his honey sweet smile and eyes. “He was a class representative for the Econ department with a reputation for dating around and all of the girls, aside from Jeongyeon, used to dream that one day, he’d pick one of us and we’d get our happy ever after.”

It was fun. He was sort of like the department’s prince charming or It-Boy. Girls would flock around him, sometimes you included, just to get a glimpse of the Junho. 

Jeongguk rests his chin on his knees that are folded up to his chest, staring intently at you as you continue to speak. “The thing is, Junho was actually really nice even though he was a total fuck boy. He just had a quality about him that made everyone like him. He was sociable and easy to talk to and cute but I never made a move. I was perfectly okay with finding him attractive from a distance because in my head, he was just this guy I thought was cute. That’s all I allowed myself to feel while the other girls kissed his cheek and asked for photos when they could.” 

You knew that was for the better anyways. 

Guys like Junho were a lot like Seojoon. Their egos were nice and fluffed to the point where they saw girls as expendable. If one said no, there’s a high chance one will just because they’re so blessed in genetics. Back then, you didn’t want to suffer the pain you felt because of Seojoon so you kept a distance and smiled as the other girls were living the dream. 

“At some point, one girl he was messing around with absolutely rejected him in front of everyone and you could tell it hurt because he actually liked her.  He didn’t show up at school for a few days and when he did, he wasn’t the old Junho. Instead, he was standoffish and quiet. Girls still wanted him but the interest changed from wanting to pin him down with commitment to healing his broken heart.” You stare at your fingernails, chipped nail polish revealing your pink nail beds. “I still kept my distance. I mean, what happened sucks but I wasn’t going to worry about it.” That’s what happens when you treat girls like shit. “Until I found him buying soju at a convenience store one night.”

A big mistake. 

Jeongguk’s expression doesn’t change one bit and you’re glad for that. It makes you think he isn’t judging you in his head.  

“He says hi and asks if he can talk to me and even though I wanted to say no, I couldn’t. I was starving and I wanted to eat at the store but I couldn’t disrespect him by rejecting him unless I wanted to get mauled the next day at school,” you explain. The seniority was insane. Still is. “So Junho and I ate together and then he just started trauma dumping on me about his failed relationship.”

Going on and on about how he was such a good guy and she was the first girl he ever really liked and that she was different and that she could change him for the better. Looking at it now, that was a sack of shit but nineteen year old you was eating up every word. 

Especially when he started hitting deep. 

 “He was crying on my shoulder and I just felt so bad. I mean, sure, Junho was a player but I know what it feels like to want someone so bad and almost be punished for it. So I tried to console him by giving some basic ass advice like it’ll stick around if it’s meant to be. I don’t even think he was listening,” a sardonic laugh leaves you at what comes next. At how idiotic you were. “I guess halfway through my spiel he realized I was a girl with boobs who was a inches away from him and his primitive man brain just connected these imaginary dots. Since I had sympathy for him, I must want to console him even further with sex. So he asked if he could kiss me.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything but his chin tucks in and that’s enough of a reaction for you to continue. 

“And you wanna know what I said? Yes.” You laugh again at your utter stupidity. “Not only because I was attracted to him but because I actually felt so sorry for him that I was willing to be his one-way ticket to happiness. I didn’t want him to feel worthless anymore, not like I did when Seojoon rejected me.” White hot shame burns your skin, your insides, all throughout your body. “I wanted to give him the fraction of attention I wished someone could’ve given me back then. I thought it would maybe soothe some of my old wounds too, maybe we…we both could move on from this.” It sounds so illogical right now but back then, it made complete sense. “We slept together one night and the next morning, after leaving me in his bed without another word, Junho tells everyone.”

It started with his chummy friend group, typically bragging after getting laid and getting his ego boosted. Like how every rumor or story passes around and Junho made sure to leave in the juicy details. 

“He said I was the best rebound lay he’s ever had and that I made sure to make him feel like a king again,” you roll your eyes. All you did was blow him before letting him put it in. That should not constitute this much embellishment. “His friends told their friends who told other people and somehow the entire school knew I slept with him. That day, I walked onto campus and guys who never gave me the time of day before were suddenly so interested in me.” Which you didn’t mind but it did get annoying when they would look everywhere but your face. “I didn’t think anything else would happen. Only, I forgot how the girls would react.”

Remember, Junho was the It-Boy. Everyone wanted him and if you got to sleep with him, you were either harassed and slut-shamed or praised. It depended on how Junho reacted. Now, you didn’t hurt him so you thought you were in the clear but that rule ended up changing. 

Because now all the guys wanted you and some girls didn’t like that. 

“They were annoyed that I got with him first without consulting them. Thinking I wanted all of this attention and I wanted to be the first girl from our year to sleep with them like this was some kind of competition when that couldn’t be the farthest from the truth. I explained myself and I told them it was a one time thing and I was only trying to comfort him but it didn’t matter. They made their decision. My fate was sealed. I became rebound girl.” It took one simple night for your entire college life to be ruined. “Guys would come to me, complain about their broken hearts, manage to get to me because I’m easy and I always manage to convince myself that they mean no harm when they always do, sleep with me, then tell the entire school the next day. Rinse and repeat.  I’m an idiot,” you exhale, hiding your face in your hands. 

It’s such a painful sensation to want to cry but no tears come out. You want to scream, shout into the sky about how frustrating this entire thing is but you don’t have the energy. 

All you feel is exhaustion. Accepting this fate is your only option. You dug this grave, now go lie in it alone, like you deserve. 

“I should’ve known. I should’ve been smart enough to stop after the first person but I keep on giving these guys the benefit of the doubt and trusting them when they actually say they want me when–I just–ugh, I’m so–”

Then something warm gently scoots across your back and your nose is filled with the scent of cotton and floral notes. The arm curls around you, cupping your shoulder as the other one rounds your front and Jeongguk is hugging you. 

Okay and maybe the position is awkward and maybe you’re about as red as a tomato with anger but this hug is just what you needed. 

Throughout the week, all you did was blame yourself and convince yourself to keep some distance from Jeongguk. You didn’t want to ruin his reputation or bring him into your mess with this weird love triangle with Juri because he simply didn’t deserve that just for being your friend and letting you suck him off once. But your heart simply wasn’t in it. You didn’t want to leave the one person that reminds you of your childhood and feels like home. 

“You’re not an idiot,” Jeongguk says.

You sigh. “You don’t have to–”

Jeongguk interrupts you. “No,” he presses firmly. “So what if you slept with that Junho guy? What does it matter to everyone else?” He huffs cutely with his thick brows all furrowed and lips slightly pouty. “Why do they get to shame you when there are tons of other college students doing the same thing? Why are you the only one in the wrong?”

Jeongguk is right. Lots of people have lots of sex. Guys are on the higher side but there are people out there having regular hookups. You get chastised for it. 

But at the same time…

“I allowed this to happen, Jeongguk.”

Even if those guys tried to get to you with their sob stories, you still said yes at the end of the day. You played into this reputation. Aren’t you at fault too? 

“You didn’t allow anything, though.” He sighs, turning more to you, hands cupping your cheeks to get you to meet his gaze, thumbs tracing the skin under your eyes. “Noona. This isn’t your fault. Please don’t blame yourself for this.”

“It feels like it. No matter what I do, people will always see me as some big bad slut. How can I not believe it?” It’s your turn to sigh, gently pushing Jeongguk’s hold off your face and turning to the side. “Have people been treating you differently?”

Is it as bad as you think? Are girls refusing to talk to him? Boys usually never get the kind of treatment you do but you can’t help but panic. 

Jeongguk waves it off. “No,” his eyes roll heavily and it doesn’t soothe you. “Like there are a few comments here and there but it’s all praise.” 

Momentarily, you are relieved that he isn’t being ridiculed for sleeping with you. At least, you think, at the very least boys will always get away with their promiscuity. You can count on that. 

“Still. Being associated with me in that way is just no good, Guk,” you remind him, even though pushing him away is the last thing you want. You want him close, to feel his touch, to kiss his lips and be with him. There’s a fire brewing inside you and it hasn’t been quenched since the first time you got to kiss him. All it does is ask for more chances. 

To kill that flame would take a lot from you and you already don’t have much to give. 

Jeongguk links your fingers together and rests them on his outstretched thigh, searching your eyes to gain your attention. “I don’t care about a bunch of random people and their opinion. It’s not going to stop me from seeing you. Not them and not that Juri girl, okay?”

Fucking Juri. 

She spearheaded all of that hatred towards you when Junho spilled the beans on you sleeping with him. She was the one behind the scenes telling all of the other girls in your grade just how awful and back-stabbing you were. You hadn’t even wronged her. Sure, she liked Junho just as much as everyone else did but you still had yet to hit her where she was really sensitive. 

 “Juri never liked me. The first time we met, she had this impression with the way I dressed or if some guy looked at me too long. As if she could already tell I was the type of girl to seduce every guy in my vicinity.” It didn't matter what you wore, some guys just stared because the way society oversexualizes everything about a woman. You weren’t a person to them, you were an object with tits and a nice ass. “When the rumor got out, it was like her first impression was confirmed and she was telling everyone else how awful I was.” It just gets worse and worse delving into this topic and while Jeongguk hasn’t been scared off just yet, this might be it. You sigh, avoiding his eyes for your conjoined hands to comfort you. “After Junho there was this other guy, I think his name was Sunghoon, and he was best friends with Junho. Juri had a massive thing for him, even more than whatever she felt for Junho, but I didn’t know because we were never friends.” 

No one knew but Juri’s circle. It was a secret crush after all. 

“Sunghoon heard about me from Junho and wanted to sleep with me too. I was already upset about Junho telling everyone so I ended up rejecting him since it was too soon but he still told everyone we did it anyway. Of course, everyone believed him no matter what I said. My reputation was set in stone.” You feel Jeongguk squeeze your hand tightly when your voice wobbles slightly. You swallowed down any pain you felt inside. “Juri was furious and now all of the other girls had perfect reason to hate me because I apparently stole her man. I tried to tell her that I didn’t know and that I’m sorry and that it wasn’t even true but she didn’t want to hear it.” 

Part of you doesn’t want to blame her. You know what it feels like when the guy you like chooses another girl. It hurts more than anything else, digs at your insecurities, begs the question if you are loveable or some ugly beast. 

But Juri was never kind to you to begin with. She isn’t a girl’s girl, she’s someone who will do anything for male validation. Even if it means losing all of her friends. 

So you know what? You don’t need someone like that in your life. 

Nayeon and Jeongyeon would never do something like that. 

“Did anyone else lie about having sex with you?”

A sad scoff leaves your lips. “You wanna know what the actual number is?” Jeongguk nods. “30. But ask anyone in our school, they’ll easily say 300 or some shit. Most guys have lied.”

Not like anyone will fact check. Junho did enough embellishment so all of the other guys could simply say your name and they’d believe it. 

That’s what reputation is. A label attached to a person so powerful that it does things on its own. And you had a reputation for being a slut who fixes broken men. 

Jeongguk groans, breaking you out of your train of thought. “This is so frustrating.” Your head turns, finds genuine anger on his boyish features. “All of those guys came to you. Junho and that Sunghoon guy and Seojoon all came to you and made you think they needed to have sex with you to feel good,” Jeongguk stresses. “And then you get punished for being a victim to their games.”

A man can be promiscuous all he wants but a woman has to remain pure. Not for her own sake but for the sake of men. Whenever women put themselves first, they’re bullied into silence. They aren’t supposed to act like men. They’re supposed to be proper, beacons of purity and grace. 

Well, who fucking made that rule? 

Why can’t men be the beacons of purity? Why do they get to slut around and get away with it? 

Why are you the spawn of Satan for even looking at a guy while there are boys at your university who have actually slept with over 100 women. 

“People suck,” is all you can say back. You’re just one person. There’s no way you can change the way society has been structured for years on end, right? A twinge of despair sits heavily in your chest as you’re consistently met with the reality of your situation. 

 “They do. And you know what?”Slowly, you look back up into Jeongguk’s sparkly bright eyes. He’s got the beginnings of a smile on his lips and you swear your stomach rushes with butterflies. “It’s their loss. Because they are missing out on getting to know a beautiful, kind, smart, accomplished and hardworking woman.”

You soften immediately. Sure, you’ve been called beautiful before but never the others. After being sexualized for years on end, no one else ever saw your worth beyond that so you had to tell yourself. Sometimes it worked, sometimes your insecurities got the best of you. But you know that you’re hardworking and smart and kind. 

It’s different coming from Jeongguk. 

He’s saying it for you, not to benefit himself later on. It’s real, not a blanket statement. There’s no promise that you’ll blow him and he won’t go around telling people that you did because he isn’t like that. 

He’s a man who genuinely likes you for you. Not your body or your reputation. 

Your legs uncurl and you’re inching closer to him. It’s an automatic response. You don’t even think to try to hold it back because you don’t want to and you shouldn’t have to. It’s safe in your apartment and no one will call you anything here. You get on your knees and swing one leg over his lap once more, inviting the soft scent of him as your face buries in the crook of his neck, arms wound around his shoulders. 

Jeongguk is warm and his hands are back on your hips innocently. The touch isn’t sexual at all and it’s just what you needed. 

Jeongguk’s chin rests on your shoulder as he starts speaking once more. “And you know what? Someone got caught fucking in the teachers lounge two days ago and it’s all everyone is talking about. No one has mentioned this story at all so don’t worry about it. I’m the least affected by this. I want to know if you’ll be okay.”

You smile against his skin, hopes he can feel you do that. 

“I will.” 

This rumor will pass, someday, certainly. But then, you refuse to be photographed with a man in any sort of context. All hookups will have to leave at 3am or something. 

Speaking of….

“You wanna stay the night?” You pull your head out, fingers twisting with the strands at the back of his head. “It’s getting late and I don’t want you to take the subway right now.” You live in a safe area but still. And you want him around but only if he’s interested. “I could call you a cab too, if you want?”

“No, I’ll stay. I just don’t have any sleepwear.” He looks down at his cargo pants with a slight pout. God, he’s adorable. 

“I have sweatpants,” you offer. Or Jeongguk could also sleep in his boxers. 

Unlike some people, you can control yourself. 

“There’s a high chance they won’t fit.”

Right. Boy has huge thighs. Muscular and toned. You can feel them underneath your legs and the brief thought of riding them until you cum all over him passes through your mind like a cheetah. Now is simply not the time to be horny. 

Seriously, your cycle of terror finished two days ago. You have to relax. You just said you could control yourself. 

Still, you let one of your hands slither down from where they were hanging behind Jeongguk’s neck to the planes of his chest, stopping right where his beating heart should be. It thumps soundly beneath your fingertips while allowing you to feel up the firm peaks of his chest that you so desperately want to squeeze like anything. 

“Speaking from experience?” You smirk. 

Jeongguk’s face dulls, pinching your side in retaliation. You yelp. “Look when you live with two sisters, laundry gets mixed up and I’ve had a lot of sweatpants barely go up my legs until I started running my clothes alone.” 

Giggling, you flick under his chin. 

Although, the thought of him doing his own laundry is also hot and–holy fuck, bro, get it together. 

You tap his chest once. “Fine, I’ll get you a pair.” You sigh, waiting for Jeongguk’s hold on your waist to loosen so you can get up, which he allows you to do. 

Except, sitting on your knees for so long left them sore and lacking in blood flow so by the time Jeongguk also gets up, your legs almost give out, resulting in you collapsing against his chest for balance and your hands landing right on his chest. 

“Sorry,” you exhale with some laughter. Jeongguk’s hands first curl around your elbows, warm and comforting, and then down to your hips. “Gimme a sec. I literally can’t feel my legs so I’ll have to hold onto you for a–ah!” 

Jeongguk uses the hold he has on you to lift you up, twine your legs around his waist with a little bounce in his movement. Your hands clutch at his body when you feel your feet lift off the ground, fear subsiding when he looks up at you with glimmering eyes. 

Staring back, it’s obvious why women like him, why Juri was so upset when he rejected her. Jeongguk is so attractive it’s insane. From every angle, he manages to look perfect. Like an angel. 

“I like it better this way,” he grins. 

Doesn’t help that he’s sweet like candy on the inside too. 

The blush on your cheeks must make you look like a tomato but you don’t care. The way Jeongguk looks at you, holds you, has your entire body covered in goosebumps. Fluttering inside your tummy, screaming at you to pin him down against that mattress and show him all of the things that you like too. 

But all you do is playfully roll your eyes. “You nearly gave me a heart attack,” you pretend to scold. 

“You like it.” 

Fuck, he’s smirking and he’s right. You did like it. There’s something to be said about being manhandled and tossed around like some ragdoll. You’ve always been the submissive one in sex so the thought of Jeongguk bending your body to his will calls for a rush of arousal. 

That coupled with the cocky look on his face. It’s fucking Niagara Falls down there. 

“Just move, Jeon. Unless you want to sleep in the pants you’re already wearing.” 

Jeongguk moves a hand up to salute you, still keeping a strong grip on the back of your thighs. You bite back a gasp when he subconsciously squeezes the mass to make sure his hold doesn’t falter. 

You’re already throbbing. Both from the act of strength and the confidence wavering off him. When Jeongguk first touched you, he was so hesitant but now he’s reached a point where he can hold you without fear that he’s crossing a boundary. Thanks to the conversation you had at the beginning of the week and you’re glad about it. He’s one of the only guys you genuinely trust. 

And currently, he’s the only guy you want to pin you down on your bed

Directing him to the chest of clothes, Jeongguk walks the two of you forward. Then sets you down in front of it.  You could’ve easily gotten up but, you know, why do that? 

With a still fuzzy brain, shaking fingers curl around the drawer’s metal handle. You pull open the first drawer of your dresser without much thought. Jeongguk is hovering behind you with curious eyes, allowing you to get drunk on the scent of him and the warmth of his body. 

But being on cloud nine makes you forget that the drawer you opened just so happens to be your lingerie drawer. 

And you pause. Like a dog getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. 

The contents are neatly packed. Lacy and skimpy, in multiple colors. No one should own this much lingerie but you love it. The confidence a nice set gives you and the way some react make spending all of that money online worth it. You feel powerful and you’ve had some great fucks in some of these sets. 

However, this is not how you planned on showing Jeongguk your collection. 

Yeah, let’s add this to the list of porno plots that you thought happened to no one but  happened to you because you are experiencing bouts of embarrassment and bad luck at the moment. You might as well change your name and move to Switzerland to herd sheep now. 

Jeongguk pauses behind you too. The hands that were on your hips, steading you for no reason, feel slightly detached.

Causing you to panic. 

The drawer slams shut. “S-sorry! Wrong one.” You go to the 2nd one and pull out a large gray pair, pushing it into Jeongguk’s chest without another word. 

Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodhohmygod. 

You should’ve actually thought this through! Instead of letting the lightness from Jeongguk picking you up dictate your every move like an idiot. Now what will he think? 

Sidestepping him, you don’t even want to imagine what could be going on in Jeongguk’s head. A desperate ploy to sleep with him after complaining about the way men treat you? Trying to gain his sympathy just to get him in bed? Sounds hypocritical, right? 

You should go. You should check on the dishes or make some tea or–

“Noona,” Jeongguk stops you with a soft hand on your wrist. “It’s okay,” his voice is firm and sure, causing you to slowly turn your neck to face him. 

His lips are set neutral, a little pouty like always. But his expression seems to be calm. 

“You don’t have to apologize or anything.” You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. “Honestly, it was…” he trails off, the redness becoming more obvious on his cheeks and ears. 

Oh. 

Any rigidness in your body begins to melt and you feel that previous fluttering in your belly return, pushing you to take a step closer. “Did you like them?” You ask, boldly. 

Gone is the fear that you’ve pushed him away, reaffirmed your reputation or behaved like the very assholes who gave it to you because he doesn’t believe in that. He likes you and trusts you and you have no reason to panic when things like this happen. Jeongguk won’t call you a slut. 

He cuts contact, looks to the side, and you see the briefest nodding on his head. Your smile grows tenfold. How cute. 

“Oh, I see.” Abandoning any plans of running from him, palms flat on the firmness of his chest that you so desperately want to sink your teeth into. The light hitting the top of his head illuminates his skin, making him all golden, and you don’t think you can handle your wetness any longer. Jeongguk is just that good looking. “Do you wanna pick one out?” 

His eyes flash up to you. “What?”

“Pick one for me to wear.” 

Jeongguk’s boy brain seems to put the pieces together slowly, realizing what you want to happen, what you’re greenlighting that he’s been thinking about for a few days now. 

You take initiative by going back to your dresser, tugging Jeongguk along, and opening the drawer all over again. Now Jeongguk can actually look at it instead of relying on the five second glimpse he got before. Sees all of the lace and mesh cut outs, sees the box of condoms in the corner, some lube. Thankfully, you’ve hidden any sex toys so you won’t have to deal with that. 

While him finding lingerie was pretty tame in retrospect, Jeongguk finding that 7 inch vibrator you’ve got would be the end of you. 

None of your baby dolls are in here but you don’t think those are Jeongguk’s style. Too much frill and fabric, meant for guys who really desire stereotypical femininity in the girls they fuck and want a little show when fucking. Jeongguk seems a little more straightforward. Likes easy access while still being sexy. So all of your teddys, which are essentially bodysuits or swimsuits made mostly of lace, are in this drawer. His eyes travel all throughout, ignoring the pinks and teals and reds for black and white. 

Inching closer, Jeongguk seems to be deciding on two in particular. Then gently pulls one out by the strap. 

“I like this.” 

Your jaw slackens slightly. It’s crotchless, first of all, and it’s completely see through. Even the cups reveal your nipples without much fabric covering it. There’s a single strip of fabric going down your sternum and there are two identical lace detailing on your sides, completely free where your mons would be. Open right at your entrance. 

Jeongguk picked a much more revealing one. You wonder what on earth he has planned for you but you nod regardless, taking the article of clothing from him and brushing some hair out of his face. 

“Get changed and then wait on the bed for me.” Kissing him briefly on the nose. 

Thankfully, you took an everything shower yesterday. Not that you really care about hair and men who do are weird but this will be your second time hooking up with Jeongguk so you still want to look a certain way for him, just until you talk about preferences some more. 

Jeongguk speed walks to your bathroom, has you giggling at the way he urgently shuts the door. Snowball’s head perks up from her bed and you carefully move her to a different bed in a farther corner so she doesn’t have to bear witness to whatever will happen. She isn’t happy about it, makes an irritated low noise when you hold her but it’s for her own good. 

After patting her a few times to get comfortable in her new bed, Jeongguk emerges with your pants in his hands. 

“They didn’t fit.” 

Not that you’re complaining. 

“Shame, guess your boxers will have to do.” You feign annoyance but the slight bulge in the fabric tells you the opposite. 

Jeongguk’s expression is difficult to judge. He follows your body as you saunter to the bathroom, eyes burning a hole in your back. You purposefully sashay a little, making sure your ass is shown off, that your hair swishes around. You’re dripping in confidence and you didn’t expect yourself to be like this considering the beginning of your run-in with Jeongguk. 

But, he helps bring you back down from that poor state of mind where you let everyone’s words get to you by reminding you just how amazing you are. Confidence is something you always had but it gets buried and Jeongguk just brought it back up. 

At some point, you hope to grow strong enough to never allow stuff like what happened this week to bother you. Even better, that the rumor becomes squashed and you’re no longer rebound girl. 

But that’ll take time and, right now, you’re willing to wait. 

Stripping down, you get ready. Slipping on the lingerie, messing your hair up a bit, adding a touch of lip gloss, and humming Positions by Ariana Grande to get you in the zone. 

Jeongguk should want to devour you. You should want to devour him. 

The door creaks open slowly and your body is halfway out when you speak up. “Close your eyes, Jeongguk!” 

Some rustling is audible. “Huh? Okay!” He calls back in his trademark polite gentle tone. A smile grows on your face right afterwards. 

You got this. 

The door behind you shuts, slightly colder air causing you to be covered in goosebumps but it doesn’t matter. You’ll be warmed up soon. Turning the corner, Jeongguk is seated on the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide (hot), propped up with his hands on the bed on either side of his hips.  

And he’s done you the favor of already taking his shirt off, folded neatly at the foot of your bed. So Jeongguk is just in his boxers. How nice of him. 

A scoff leaves your lips, too quiet for him to pick up, but your footsteps are loud and clear. Jeongguk moves his hands a little and he doesn’t flinch when you sink down onto his warm lap, arms around his neck like they belong. 

“Can I open my eyes now?” Jeongguk hasn't touched you just yet. Honestly, he seems like he’d make the perfect sub with how good he is and how well he listens but you’ve never delved into that. 

You have no idea if you’d totally enjoy it unless it was a teasing back and forth and Jeongguk got the chance to put you in your place too. Get you whining and crying into your sheets until–

Okay, fuck. You’re already soaking wet and bare. You don’t need the scenarios and you haven’t even responded to him. 

Leaning close to his perfect face, you smack a quick kiss on his cheek, right below that scar of his. “Not yet, baby.” You purr, mapping a line down his neck with your lips. Jeongguk has such a nice neck and hickeys look so good on him. The urge to mark him up completely overtakes all rationality (not that you had much to begin with). 

Kissing down to the middle of his neck slowly, your lips suction around his pulse point, digging your teeth in, and you feel Jeongguk stir beneath you. His hips raise slightly, desperate for some kind of friction that you refuse to give. All you can smell is his sweet perfume and feel his soft skin. 

Jeongguk whimpers your name and you can feel your pussy throbbing, surprised that you’re not leaking all over his bare thigh. 

“Fuck,” he groans, thrusting up. Jeongguk’s boxers are so thin so you can feel the defined bulge pressing into your bare mound and you almost falter from how thick and big it feels. 

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve had a dick inside you and you are really craving it. Sure, you have toys that could easily help but Jeongguk is bigger than your biggest one. Suddenly, that 7 inch vibrator simply won’t cut it. 

Clenching around nothing, you pull away from his neck. “You can open your eyes now,” exhaling heavily. 

Jeongguk follows. Your eyes connect and it’s electric. Sizzling tension, blood pumping deep in your veins, breaths mingling. Two seconds go, passing atypically slowly, and then he moves. 

Jeongguk makes the first move connecting your lips, taking you by surprise, but you kiss him back and try to match his vigor. He kisses you with passion and wanton, controlling you like he might never get another chance to taste you. Gets your heart thumping loudly in your chest. 

Especially when his fingers curl around your ass, squeezing roughly to earn a gasp of rapture, and his tongue sneaks in and runs deep along yours. 

Questioning if he was totally a sub? Yeah, you don’t know about that. 

Getting strong switch vibes from him. 

Jeongguk gets up from the bed after wrapping your legs around his waist, turning around and laying you down on the bed. Your lips break apart for a split second but Jeongguk changes the moment your back touches the mattress, as if he can’t live without your kisses. You moan at his eagerness, realizing he has yet to look at your full set yet and is going crazy over just kissing you. 

Fingers wind in his soft silky hair, tongues mingling in your mouth. It’s wet and messy and vulgar, teeth clacking, but you don’t have it in you to care. 

He breaks the kiss again to kiss the corner of your lips, your cheek and then your jaw before pulling away and finally looks down while hovering over you. 

Watching Jeongguk’s expression change is like high art. 

You swear his eyes get darker, a vein on his neck bulges. “Jesus,” he grits. One hand begins at your sternum and slithers down where your breasts threaten to spill out of the flimsy thing. Jeongguk’s thumb traces over your pert nipple, causing you to twitch at the brief stimulation. “You look so fucking hot.” 

“Yeah?” 

Jeongguk nods, sitting up a little so he’s kneeling between your spread legs. “Like a goddess.” His eyes take you in, eating up every inch of skin he can see. “A beautiful, sexy, amazing goddess.” 

You smirk, bending your leg some more to expose more of yourself to him. His gaze dips down to your bare cunt, wet and swollen for him and you swear you see his jaw set. 

“You’re talking like you wanna worship me,” you joke cornily. Honestly, you’re too taken aback by the way Jeongguk is looking at you to cringe but thankfully he doesn’t say anything against it. 

“I think I do.” Is his response. 

Barely processing it, Jeongguk lifts you up by your calves, resting them on his shoulders and leaning down. Your stomach flips, you gasp, trembling slightly as Jeongguk begins to leave hickeys on the soft flesh of your inner thigh along with occasional bite marks. 

Is he going to do what you think he is? Does he even know how? It’s been ages since someone went down on you. Most men simply don’t know how or care to learn. 

You think Jeongguk is the opposite. He isn’t pleasuring you for himself but because he wants you to feel good so if you don’t like something, he’ll fix it. 

But still, eating girls out is apparently something only girls can do properly. Nayeon is a firm believer in that. 

Your head tilts back with each teasing mark making you wetter and wetter. He’s certainly building up the anticipation correctly so you’ll give him a point for that. Soon you’re throbbing so bad from how sexy Jeongguk looks with his dark hair between your thighs and kiss-bruised lips that you almost beg for his mouth on you. 

“Pretty,” Jeongguk growls, reaching closer to your dripping core. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” The muscles in his back flex and you can feel them against your calves. “Can I?”

You don’t even hesitate. He’s inches away from you and you don’t think you can go another second without his touch. “Please Guk.” 

He doesn’t waste another second leaning down and licking a fat stripe up your core, making your legs twitch around his head. His tongue is flat and wide starting from your entrance all the way to your clit, tasting you once and groaning immediately after. 

“Shit,” you wince. Fingers getting stuck in Jeongguk’s hair. “Jeongguk.” 

Embarrassingly, you almost grind on his face but Jeongguk keeps a tight hold on your hips as his mouth closes around your clit, sucking the bud a few times like he’s making out with you which has you groaning out. His nose bumps into your outer lips and you imagine that it would feel like heaven to grind back onto the bulbous tip while sitting on his face. Big noses are so hot for that reason in particular. 

Jeongguk pulls back, gets up on his elbows a little to drop a fat blob of spit onto your pussy, watching it mix with your juices as you clench again. This time he notices your neediness and he chuckles darkly. 

“Cute,” lips closing around your clit as he looks up at you. “Want my fingers in you badly, huh?”

“Yes.”

Jeongguk’s lips pull off with a loud pop. “How bad?” Digits tracing your soppy opening. At first you can’t formulate a response when he’s everywhere but the places you need him. So he removes all contact. “How bad do you need my fingers in this needy little pussy?” 

Definitely not a sub. Definitely not a fucking sub–wow, okay. 

“Badly,” grinding up into nothing, hips getting shoved back down. “I–I need you to fill me up. Please. I think about it so much. Your fingers feel so fucking good, Jeongguk. Made me cum so hard.” 

You don’t lie. He’s got long fingers and is definitely the biggest you’ve had, easily reaching spots others have left dormant. You’re glad to fluff his ego on that considering how mind blowing that first orgasm was. 

“I could tell,” he mutters slowly. “You came so fast,” lips closing around your clit again as you whine out. Jeongguk continues speaking. “Like a good girl” 

You can’t even respond to that, can’t even begin to fathom what praise from him does to you or how you must be gushing all over your sheets right now. Jeongguk’s middle finger inches in while his tongue and mouth focus directly on your swollen clit and you lose all ability to formulate a proper sentence. 

Flicking the sensitive bud back and forth at an animalistic pace while his finger slowly pushes in and out of you is where you fucking lose it. Head thrown back, thighs trembling, moaning out garbled versions of his name and breathy swears. 

This is it. Better than anything else you’ve had. This combination floods you with pleasure coiling in the pit of your stomach and your muscles going rigid. 

“Fuck yes–yes, just like that,” you whimper some more, using your grip on Jeongguk’s hair to tug him in further. Big mistake. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking–no, no! Why did you–”

Your leg falls off Jeongguk’s shoulder and flops onto the bed. His nose and lips are shiny but his expression is hard. “Sit  up.” He orders. Jaw set and clenched. 

Part of you really wants to disobey, be brat because that always results in a good time, but you need to come and you need his touch back on you as soon as possible. Meekly, your legs curl in and you slowly sit up, getting on your knees and pouting at him. 

Jeongguk takes the spot you were just laying down on, head meeting your pillow with a slight bounce. He motions for you to come closer then: “Face away from me.”

Oh.

Even better. 

“Gonna have this perfect pussy right in front of me while you suck me off, okay?”

Swinging your leg over, you nod desperately, arching your back a little and leaning down. You’re interrupted with a light smack on your ass, causing you to moan out way too loudly. It almost sounds like a cry of pain but it’s far from that. 

Jeongguk drops the act quickly. Gently reaching for you with soft hands on your hips.  “Noona, are you ok–”

“I’m fine,” you gasp. “Do it again.” You push your ass out some more, bent over his body, staring back at him with tears of desire. “Please Jeongguk.” 

He’s hesitant when he sits back down. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you but the way that the pain sizzled into pleasure coupled with how badly you want his hand print on you is far from hurt. It’s fucking warranted at this point. 

Jeongguk spanks you once more, on the same cheek, and you flop down all limp on top of him. His teeth sink into the flesh of your thigh, spanking the other cheek much harder than before. 

Arousal drips out of you and tracks down your skin. You feel needy and pathetic but in the best way possible. 

“I fucking love your ass so much,” nails dig into the already sore flesh as he praises you lowly. Jeongguk’s arms curl around your back, tugging you close to him as he continues what he was doing to you. Tongue flicking your clit at an insane pace. 

You can’t handle it. Even though his hard cock is inches away from you, you need a second to control yourself as the tingling sensation begins from your toes and starts creeping up. 

Someone must’ve told him this or maybe he’s watched a ton of porn. Guys never eat you out like this. They move their tongue around and moan, thinking it’s enough, and get annoyed when you haven’t come. Some blame it on you and say that you’re the problem when it’s the complete opposite. 

But Jeongguk breaches your entrance with two fingers in tandem with your tongue. Those long digits immediately find that g-spot and it’s fucking over, it’s done. You’re already there. You’re so wet and it’s echoing in your small studio apartment for the both of you to hear. The pleasure building up is rapid and way too fast.

After no action for days, you’re easy. The coil in your stomach gets tighter and tighter as Jeongguk’s fingers pound out of you and his tongue continues to play with that swollen bundle of nerves. 

“C-close, I’m close–I’m gonna–” you feel it, the ball unravels and your legs go out. “I’m cumming!” 

Faster than you’d like to admit. You start shaking, tears streaming down your face. Trying to muffle your noises on his thigh so you don’t get a fucking noise complaint. 

“Good girl. So fucking pretty when you come like that,” his fingers slow down but they don’t pull out just yet. After such a hard orgasm, you would usually need a break but the slow pace just gets you needier. “Can you take another one, gorgeous?” Jeongguk asks. 

Last time he touched you, you couldn't but now you want a second go. Besides, you want to return the favor too. 

“Yeah, I can.” 

With a slow pace and his mouth pressing timid little kisses on your wet thighs, Jeongguk leans back when you pull his boxers down and his length stands in front of you. Leaking and hard and so fucking big. 

Now that you’ve come once, you lose all inhibition. You press a kiss to the wet tip, rounding up saliva in your mouth to lick up all of the cloudy salty precum before sinking down and taking in just the tip. He’s thick so your jaw has to stretch a bit but you definitely don’t mind that. 

“Fuck,” Jeongguk whispers, licking another stripe to clean you up, gets you jolting and him laughing. 

He’s so atypically cocky, something you’ve never found attractive until now. It’s warranted cockiness. Ate you out like a fucking champ and has a dick big enough to make you question whether or not you can take it all. Yeah, Jeongguk can have a bit of an ego. 

But only a bit. 

You fold your thumb into your clenched fist and squeeze lightly to stop your gag reflex for a bit. Allowing you to take almost all of his length into your mouth. Jeongguk’s hips raise a bit to help you so it doesn’t pierce through the back of your throat completely but just until your nose meets the base of his length. 

“Mmh,” he moans, feeling his chest heave against your body. Jeongguk mumbles some more praise, calls you the most prettiest girl, leans forward to get his mouth back on you, and the dance begins again. 

Gently, Jeongguk fucks your mouth while you grind back into his. The pace isn’t fast and hectic like before nor is it any bit graceful but neither of you seem to care. 

Each thrust is awarded with a burst of precum and your thighs shake with every hit against your sensitive spot. The air gets hot and sticky, filled with the scent of sex and adrenaline. The sounds of your wet mouth and wet pussy along with Jeongguk’s whiny noises are noises you could hear for the rest of your life and never get bored of. 

This is all you want. Him and his hands and his mouth and just him. 

This sweet boy who held you so close and listened and makes you cum better than anyone else had. 

Even after the second time, as your arousal drenches his fingers so much they prune as you release and he shoots his load down your throat, it hits you like a punch in the face just how much Jeongguk has ruined you. 

Because after this, no other man will compare.

[vvluvmai]

𝑭𝑺𝑴 ✩ 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑵

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(adj.) feeling sad and lonely because of unrequited love

warn. Fem reader, ooc kaiser?, angst w/o comfort

sum. Years and years went by, the prideful man kept his secrets to himself, his most troubling one being love, love he had for his best friend since childhood. And to see her with another man, laughing and hugging, on the day he had built up enough courage to apologise and maybe even confess to the very person he had been in love and loving in secret for many years, it shattered whatever hope he had been holding onto for years. For the boy cried himself to sleep that day, and everytime his mind so cruelly reminds him of that fateful day.

char. Micheal Kaiser.

cw. This was written way before kaiser’s backstory was revealed but I tried putting in elements of kaiser's personality and updated it a lil, and also, my writing has gotten rusty after MONTHS of not writing so pls 🐻 with me <3 rushed(?), ooc, kinda cringe, drabble.

an. This is a pretty short drabble, lemme know if yall would like me into a bigger more clarified fic!!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ☃︎⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Michael was your typical highschool popular asshole. Even to his friends, he'd throw them under the bus just for shits and giggles. But yet, he had the tiniest of a soft side for his best friend, one who he.. at least treated as a human being. You'd always listen to him, his troubles, his gossip, hell, even about the most incoherent rants he blabbered out whenever he drank too much. He was much like his dad; a drunken, sentimental asshole.

Even at his most vulnerable moments such as..being drunk, his mind still somehow managed to keep a thick, strong wall protecting him against the judging hearts of others no matter how much he trusted or felt comfortable with them. Yet he felt comfortable in your arms when he angrily or stupidly rant about whatever bothered his mind, and at his worst, he'd cry in your arms completely unresponsive. Which has only happened once, an incident he swears never happened and continues to gaslight you into thinking it truly never happened.

Michael has always despised crying, growing up with both his mother and father belittling him whenever he cried because of the scoldings and punishments he gets for being what most would call a ‘problem child'.

And as a result of this, he'd always suck up his tears no matter how blurry his eyes get or no matter how much his eyes burn, never making a single decibel of sound no matter how much he felt like he needed to sob and bawl even when there's that mind numbing feeling of barbed wires tightening around his neck and digging into his body and killing every need to run and run far away.

Even if no one was around, he'd just simply let the tears fall, his body still as a rock and not making a sound. But he liked it this way. This way, no one would know that he was nothing more than a ‘schwache Heulsuse’. This way, no one would see those crystal tears that dared to run away from his eyes and thus, no one would be able to call him a ‘Weichei’ or ‘Rückgratlose Scheiße’ as his parents did. And to most, he'd seen like he's sleeping if it weren't for the tight grip of his pillow and the constant scratching of his arms to distract him from the pain that clouded his heart emotionally.

Michael's sarcastic and narcissistic personality was yet another result of his childhood and the constant drowning out whatever negative thoughts came to cloud his mind; hurling insults and gossiping helped keep his mind off what he'd have to endure at home. Constantly taunting, teasing, poking fun no matter who it was. But when it came to you, oh, you, people would die from shock to see how he was with you behind closed doors. A smile so genuine and soft, laughs so happy and beautiful and the way the corners of his eyes would crinkle and pupils shine when he was with you, timeless and worth admiring.

If only he'd let go of that habit of his, pushing others away when got too close to his heart. And maybe then, he'd have you with him, smiling and laughing the same way he did when he was with you.

Well, highschool has passed. And now he was at blue lock, fighting for his life, rendering his enemies to mere shame to fill that disgusting—as he called it—aching void in his chest. The victory of defeating his opponents were always short lived, 5 seconds of the feeling of glory that vanished as fast as it came, but for cameras he maintained that smug, proud and confident face in hopes that maybe one day, the unrequited love of his life would leave her boyfriend for him.

He knew it was a shitty thought, the most pathetic and the most low he'll ever stoop to. But he couldn't care anymore, for someone who has gotten everything he ever wished for, this was that one thing that seemed so far away and ever so fleeting. Ah, if only he was more trusting. If only his arrogant and ignorant self could've let down the walls he built to keep the judgement of others at bay, so that he could be himself with the only person who actually cared.

He got everything he wanted, but not what he needed.

And now he had to face the mistakes of his way haunting him whenever he went out to clear his mind. Even then, she'd never leave him be. Her, so stubborn, that even now she refused to abandon him like all the others. Even if she was gone physically, she was still there in his mind constantly. His whole body tormented him, his eyes faking the illusions of her, his mind constantly bringing up the moments of comfort, laughter and banter he had with her. And the painful, disgusting, torturous moments where he made her cry, arguments, disagreements and shouting. And that one specific moment where his life had ended, when his life decided to walk far away from him was the moment that still kept him company, physically reminding him of what he had lost.

And now, his life was back to haunt him again. This time, it was no trick orchestrated by his eyes and mind to taunt him again, this time, it was real and he could swear on his bloodline.

The fashion he wore ever so immaculately, designed to flaunt his wealth, power and 'confidence', had people turning their heads in a whiplash. Michael looked around, looking for a store to waste money on and in the midst of his search, but his eyes caught a familiar face laughing.

Eyes widening in quick realisation as he kept walking forward that it was her, (name). The tiniest of smiles graced his face, little hopes clinging to his heart that he could fix what he broke months ago. But soon enough, all little hopes washed away like the shore when his eyes saw that (name) as clinging on to the arm of another man as they both waited for the red light to go green. Smiling, laughing and gleeful. Never had she looked this at peace, this joyful with him and it served fuel to the growing angering pit in his stomach. A pit of fury, hatred, anxiety and hurt all directed to none other than himself, for he knew that he was at fault.

Hidden in the bustling crowds, kaiser stood quietly. Face blank except for the way his eyes had seemed a little more dull than usual, mind full. His eyes blankly watched the red go green, and the standing couple walk.

Again, he watched his life woke away from him. And again, he was reminded,

He had everything he wanted, but not everything he needed.

♯

𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 —

Rückgratlose Scheiße - Spineless shit

Schwache Heulsuse - weak crybaby

Weichei - wimp

copyright © @vvluvmai

Thank you so much to all my clouds for waiting for so long, I'm not dead, I'm just dealing with abit IRL <33

tags: @kaiserkisser

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f! reader - vol. vi

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |

chapter summary: you grow closer with sarah, and also with joel... pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.2k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY - oral sex (m receiving). alcohol consumption. Some angst, but mostly fluff, references to divorces/getting remarried/stepparents. anxious thoughts. a/n: this chapter is probably the least heavy. s/o to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about it, as always. lots of character/relationship/backstory for both joel and reader. i give reader a childhood nickname in this story, but it's not her actual name. also i made up a backstory for joel because he deserves it. hope you enjoy!

-June 5th, 2003-

“I think you missed a spot.”

“Yeah, that’s because you won’t hold still.”

Sarah scolds you for what feels like the hundredth time since you sat down. You feel a bit like a rambunctious child, and not so much a grown woman who has over fifteen years on her with the way she’s talking to you. To keep from giggling, you press your lips together tightly.

“You’re the one who begged to do this.”

“I did not,” she says, lacing mock offense into her voice – even with her head tilted down so you can’t see her mouth, you can tell she’s smiling. 

Sarah’s bent over your kitchen table, across from you, holding your thumb between two of her fingers. Meticulously, she’s painting a layer of pink, glittery polish on your nails. It’s been awhile since you started, and the near-suffocating chemical fumes of acetone and nail polish had grown so intense you’d already made her turn on the fan and open the window above your sink. It wasn’t really helping. And she’s got her face so close to your hand – laser focused – you’re a little concerned she’s going to poke herself in the eye. But you don’t dare correct her. This is a weekly ritual. Every Thursday night, you give each other manicures. It’s far more important to her, however.

“Oh my god, relax your fingers, you’re so rigid,” she reprimands you again.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, a bit sheepish. You’ve been anxious, the energy having worked its way out to all your extremities, apparently. 

To be fair, you could do without this. You’ve never really cared about having your nails done growing up, and still don’t. They’ll look good for about two to three business days, and then they’ll chip. It’s always this way, regardless of what topcoat she puts on that claims it will make your nails last forever – maybe you’re just too rough with your hands. However, it’s the one thing Sarah doesn’t give you grief about, maybe because hers always chip, too. 

You keep letting her do it, though. Partly because she likes it so much – and it hasn’t gotten any easier to say no to her. The other part is reminded of what it’s like to be a kid again. When you were first sent away to school, you always kept your nails painted - a small act of rebellion, of self-expression after being forced into the same uniform day after day. When you’d come home on breaks you’d beg your brother to paint his nails, run down the hall after him with a bottle of polish. Vincent would never let you, but he would always find a compromise, which was usually a walk through Central Park, and paying for you to ride on the carousel. He’d stand off to the side, waving each time you passed. In those moments, you liked to pretend that things were normal, that there wasn’t a dark cloud lingering over you both. Because even then, you’d known. On the walk home, Vincent would let you hook your mittened hand in the crook of his elbow, and you’d tilt your head all the way back to look at the tops of the buildings, the sun poking through the clouds.

Sarah draws back from your hand, then releases it delicately to the tabletop, placing the brush back in the nail polish bottle. “There,” she says, screwing on the lid. You both lean forward to admire her work. “I’m getting better aren’t, I?”

“You definitely are,” you look at the obnoxious color – Aurora Berry-alis. It’s the exact opposite of anything you’d pick out for yourself, but you’ve been surprised at the compliments you’ve been getting at work from your coworkers whenever you are going over contracts or pointing out revisions. If anything, you think it might make them pay closer attention when you talk. You nod at Sarah appreciatively. “They look good.”

“I think you’re getting better, too,” she places her hands atop the table alongside yours, so you can compare. You’d painted hers the same color, because you always let her choose. Well, it’s less that you let her, and more that she tells you, and you know better than to argue. The first time she’d painted them, and you’d suggested a coat of clear, she had given you so much grief about how boring you were, that you had given in and let her do whatever she’d wanted. There is nothing more terrifying than a teenage girl thinking you are lame. 

“It’s always easier to paint someone else’s,” you answer. 

Sarah leans forward, and frowns when her eyes land on your thumbnail, the one with the scab at the base of it. “You really need to stop picking at your cuticles.”

“I can’t help it,” you say sheepishly. “It’s a bad habit.” Particularly when stressed, you want to add, but you keep it to yourself.

“Well, it needs to stop,” she says pointedly, before planting her hands on the table and standing up. “I’m gonna get a ginger ale. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Yeah, grab me one, too,” you blow on your fingers so they dry faster. 

Sarah disappears behind you, and you hear her rummaging through your fridge. “Do you not eat? Your fridge is basically empty.”

It’s only when she mentions it that you recall. “I do, I just forgot to go to the store this weekend.”

“How do you forget to buy food for yourself?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Sarah groans, and a few of your cabinets open and slam shut. “There’s no food here.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “I pretty much only buy stuff for you anyways, at this rate you might as well start chipping in on the grocery bill.”

“You sound like my dad.”

At the mention of Joel, you stiffen. 

Things have been a bit of a blur for the past few weeks. Between both of your work schedules, it’s been difficult to see one another, and even when you’re free – it has to be when Sarah’s away, which doesn’t happen often. And if she’s not in her own house, the second most likely place for her to be is at yours – so that makes it even more complicated. And both of you have agreed that she can’t find out. Because of that, you’ve only seen Joel a handful of times. 

“How is he?” you ask, nonchalantly. It’s a question you have asked her a hundred times before, just like you’ve asked after her best friend from school, Jennifer, or her grandparents, her Uncle Tommy – anyone from her life she talks about regularly. For some reason, you’re still expecting Sarah to hear these three words and sense that you’re not telling her something.

“He’s good,” she says, rustling through boxes. “Busy.” 

Yeah….busy. You could laugh when you think of the absurdity of the situation as a whole. There’s not a chapter in any of your self-help books that could teach you how to properly navigate it. So you’re left to figure it out for yourself, and hope you can without inflicting any permanent damage on her psyche. 

It makes you kind of nauseous actually. You knew her first. You were closer with her, first. It feels like a betrayal – and you’ve done enough of that in your life. This was supposed to be a way to start over, to do the right thing, but the sickness follows wherever you go.  You can’t stop it. What would happen if she found out? Would she be angry, mad, disgusted? She likes you, but as far as she knows, you aren’t romantically involved with her father. And that would certainly change things. 

Where it really gets problematic – you like Joel. So much more than you had expected. Well, maybe you’d been expecting it a little but not….like this. Of course, you know better than to be hopeful. Everything is still tentative, new. You’re figuring it out. It’s nice, at least, to savor the feeling while you have it, because it’s something you have felt so rarely.

All that considered, keeping it from her objectively is the right thing to do – for now. At least, that’s how you justify it to yourself.

“Actually he, uh, has been on a coupla dates lately,” Sarah returns to sit with a bag of stale Doritos and two ginger ales

“Really?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow, pretending this is new information. 

Sarah nods, and is careful to open both cans with the tip of a butter knife she brought over, so as not to chip her freshly painted nails. She speaks so nonchalantly, there’s no way she suspects anything. 

You test the waters. “How do you feel about that?”

“What are you, my guidance counselor?” 

You laugh first, and then she joins in, delighted by her clever joke. Once it fades, she surprises you by sobering up, quickly. “But uh….I don’t feel any way about it…I usually don’t care unless he introduces me to whoever he’s with.” 

“Oh yeah,” you say. “I remember when my dad did that. Always weird, right?”

“Always,” she repeats, sounding relieved that you understand. “But it doesn’t happen often. I think he’s careful. But things have just never felt….right. With any of them.”

“What, like, they weren’t nice?” 

“No, just….I could tell they didn’t really care…” she says. “About me….”

You want to tell her that’s not true. But you’d only be speaking for yourself, and this isn’t about you. 

“What about you?” she asks, and you realize you’ve been frowning. “Did you get along with your dad’s girlfriends when you first met them?”

“I mean, it wasn’t so much a meeting as it was my father introducing us and saying ‘Pixie, Meredith is going to be your stepmother,' and then that was that."

“Your stepmother’s name was really Meredith?” Sarah asks incredulously. “Like in The Parent Trap?”

You consider this, the realization hitting. “Yeah, I guess so,” and you both laugh. 

“Oh boy,” Sarah says. “Stepmom? If my dad gets remarried, I think…things would change…”

“How so?”

“What if she hates me? And then dad stops spending time with me? What if he has another kid, and they forget about me?” She pauses, but not long enough for you to shut it down without interrupting. “I mean, tell me what happened with your stepmom. Did you become an afterthought? ”

“Uh, well….” you wrinkle your nose. “I mean, yeah, but I was never exactly a priority to begin with.”

To you, it’s such a casual statement of fact, so at first, you’re not sure why Sarah looks so distraught by the response. “Oh, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to….” Her shoulders sag, just a little.

“Oh,” you wave your hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m fine. What I’m trying to say is from everything you’ve told me about your dad, and everything I know myself –” which is more than you think “– he would never let that happen.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” she says, bobbing her head. “But I can’t help but think about it.”

“Those are just thoughts…” you offer. And you’re no longer even approaching this conversation with the context of being the woman who is with Joel. You just want to make her feel better. “Doesn’t mean they’ll come true.”

It seems to placate her. “Yeah. You’re right,” she nods, and takes a sip from her ginger ale. “I do worry about my dad, though. It’s just the two of us, and I know he gets lonely. And who knows, maybe someday he’ll end with someone I actually like. That could be fun,” Sarah smiles a little. “So long as they don’t boss me around.”

“Boss you around?” you ask, taking a sip from your own can and raising your eyebrows. “I wish them the best.”

“Shut up,” she says, then giggles. “But also…fair point.”

Suddenly, you sit up from where you’d been leaning back into the wood of your kitchen chair. And it seems like as good a time as ever to change the subject, because you’ve far overstayed your welcome lingering. “Oh, by the way, before I forget…stay right there, I have something for you.”

“What? What is it?”

You rise from your seat, and walk a few paces to the basket in the corner of the room. “You’ve got that camping trip coming up soon, and it gets chilly at night….” You dig through your knitting materials until you find what you’re looking for. Once you do, you place it in front of Sarah on the tabletop. 

“What? No way!” she exclaims, picking up the baby blue knit cap in front of her. “You knitted me a hat?”

“Yeah,” you say, a bit sheepishly. “I meant to wrap it but-”

“It’s so cute,” Sarah cuts you off. “Can I try it on?”

“Of course, it’s yours.”

She jumps up from her seat and saunters to the mirror that hangs above the credenza just inside your front door. You follow her, standing behind her as she tugs the hat over her head. “What do you think?”

“Here,” you murmur, reaching over her shoulder to brush a piece of hair from her eyes, tucking it under the beanie, and pulling it further down in the back so it covers her ears as intended. Then you both look in the mirror. “I like it. Do you like it?” 

“Yes,” she says, incredulous. “I can’t believe you made this for me.”

“I’ve hardly been knitting lately because it is so hot here. And you’ve been talking about how excited you are for this trip since I met you, so…it only felt right.”

Sarah whirls around quickly to wrap you in a hug, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror behind her – arm across the back of the pink hoodie she’s wearing. There’s a vague sense of longing in your expression, and you wonder what it might have been like to have someone in your life who could have given you the things your parents never did. Maybe there’s still a way to right all the wrongs. And not just for yourself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-June 6th, 2003-

“Come in!” 

You’re closing the oven when you hear the knock on your screen door. It slams shut, and you peer through the entrance of your kitchen to the front foyer – just to make sure you haven’t invited an axe murderer into your home. 

The concern is fleeting, because you see it’s just Joel, bent over, untying his work boots and slipping them off. You like to think of yourself as easygoing, but you don’t allow him to wear them inside the house. All it took was some side eye the last time he’d tracked dirt all over your clean carpets, and then you never had to ask him again. But really, it was a minor inconvenience compared to some of the shit your past boyfriends had pulled. For example, this past year you actually had to utter the sentence ‘I don’t want you stashing your coke in my underwear drawer’ out loud to a grown man. So, even if the bar was so low you could step over it – and hardly bend a knee – it was something you had learned to appreciate about him.

You’ve made a roasted whole chicken – which is surprisingly easy, and mostly involves root vegetables and a lot of butter. Then it just cooks in the oven. It’s sort of your go-to when you actually decide to cook, but it’s too much food for one person. But you like that if you make it at the beginning of the week, you can eat leftovers for several days after. You hope Joel will appreciate it – not that you are trying to impress him, well, who are you kidding? You definitely are. It’s just one of those things you are ashamed to admit to yourself. 

You turn to the sink, pulling off the yellow rubber gloves you’d bought to wash dishes in – in an effort to preserve your manicure. “Hey,” you say, when you hear his footsteps shuffling behind you. 

“Hey,” Joel answers, and before you can turn, his lips are on your cheek, his hand on your shoulder, and he takes in the scene of your kitchen. “Would you like some help?”

“I’m good,” you look around. It was maybe a little messy, but the dishes were soaking and all you have to do is wipe off the countertops. It tends to happen when you cook. You’re not great at mise en place. Still, you have a system, and it works for you, and it stresses you out to have helpers in the kitchen. “Everything’s in the oven already.” 

Turning finally, you take Joel all the way. He looks tired. Shoulders slumped, hair mussed. You reach out, pull a piece of sawdust out from one of his waves, flick it into the sink. “Why don’t you go sit in the front room?” you ask him. “I’ll be in, just give me a second.”

He’s been busy, putting in extra hour into his first contracting gig, and it appears it’s starting to take its toll. 

“Okay,” he nods, hesitant, stepping back. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel settles onto your couch with his hands over his face. He’s upset with himself. For as much as he likes you, he’s barely seen you since your first date – and tonight, the one night he gets the chance, he’s utterly spent. 

He rubs his eyes, looks towards your record player in the corner of the room, some melancholy jazz playing over the speakers. In the kitchen, dishes clink together, and a cabinet shuts lightly. Joel lets his head loll back against the plush cushions of your couch, savoring the only peace he’s felt all day.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” your voice cuts in, and Joel doesn’t know how you had snuck up on him, but when he peers up at you, standing over him, you’re holding out a frosted tumbler. 

The floral apron you’d been wearing when he first came in is gone, so he sees more clearly the blush button-down you’ve paired with khaki slacks. Your hair is clipped back from your face, reading glasses on your head. He thinks of your coworkers who get to see you looking like this everyday, and gets a little envious. “What’s this?”

“A drink,” you say. “I thought you might need one.”

“Is it that obvious?” He feels a little guilty that it’s so clear to you what’s wrong, and you’ve barely spoken yet. Despite everything, Joel can’t help but feel warm, accepting the beverage graciously. The thin layer of ice coating the outside of the drink melts the second his fingers wrap around it, brushing against your own. 

“Only a little,” you give him a soft smile before clinking glasses.

It’s some kind of whiskey, served over ice and it’s fucking good. It goes down far too easy, and he immediately takes another pull. You settle next to him while he does, but not so close that you’re touching. Joel is no stranger to how tentative you are with him, still. But he likes you regardless. He’s holding something fickle in his palm, and he understands he’d better hold still so as not to break it. 

“Long day?” you ask, and reach out to trace your knuckle up his arm absentmindedly. 

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs. “Things just keep goin’ wrong.”

“And you’re the problem solver now?”

“Something like that,” Joel says. You’d already drilled him about the ins and outs of his job awhile back. Being a contractor, while it’s a step up from his last job, and makes him more money – is much more demanding. People actually answer to him, now. 

“I’m sorry…that sounds stressful,” you empathize. “I’m sure you’ll get a handle on it soon enough.”

Joel nods. Even if his brain has been telling him otherwise, he’s inclined to believe you. 

Carefully – but not at all hesitantly, you reach out, hand curling around the back of his neck. Its the same one you’d been using to hold your glass so it’s comfortingly cool against his skin – still heated from a day spent under the sun. Joel feels his heart rate pick up as you move in closer. When your lips connect with his own, the kiss is gentle, affectionate. A proper greeting. 

A flash of something, white hot, swipes up the sides of his neck, into his face. He’s a little embarrassed at the effect your touch has on him. Everything is still so new. And he’s hardly gotten the time alone with you to get it out of your system.

You deepen the kiss, it becomes deeper, more sensual, and he feels the switch flip. Almost as though you can sense his arousal, your hand slips down, swiftly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Your mouth never leaves his, you never pull away to look down, and he’s hard by the time you cup him through his underwear. And he’s still so taken aback he can’t stifle the noise he makes – directly into your mouth.

Your fingers hook through his belt loops to shuck his pants and underwear down, and the comfort of your body pressed against him disappears. Blinking open his eyes, he reaches out to pull you back. “What are you-” he cuts himself off when he sees you kneeling between his parted knees. 

In response, your hands plant high on his thighs. “What does it look like?” you ask, your chin tilting back, eyes glimmering.

Oh. 

“May I?” So polite, considering the offer. 

Joel nods wordlessly, and he watches you lean forward. His eyes squeeze shut right before you take him in your mouth – because he knows if he doesn’t ease his way into this, he won’t last. 

You don’t waste time teasing or kissing or anything like that. You’re not gonna drag things out. Maybe it’s because dinner’s in the oven and your time is limited, or maybe this is just how you are.

He aches, and in one go, you wrap your mouth around him and take him as deep as you can, he feels your throat constrict when you can’t go any further. Then, you do it again, again. It goes on that way, until he’s coated with saliva and the slide of your lips up and down the length of him feels as soft as the silk of your shirt, which he’s unintentionally fisting, trying to hold back. 

Your hands squeeze his thighs, massaging them gently while you work diligently. It’s fast, but not so fast he can’t enjoy himself. Sloppy, but he prefers it that way. It’s perfect. He thinks you’re fucking perfect. 

He decides he has to see you, watch you, and leans back to take you in more fully. One of his hands rises to slip under your chin, angles your face so your eyes lock with his own.  “Look at me,” he says, a little press to get you to engage. He’s learning how to push you– just enough to get what he needs without scaring you away. And he’s rewarded when you moan around him, the vibration around his cock only bringing him closer to release. 

“Such a sweet girl,” he murmurs, and you groan again at the praise – he relishes in how well he’s getting to know you, learning what gets you off – in the short time you’ve been together. “You look so pretty with your mouth full.” 

Then he moves his hand to sift into your hair, collecting it gently at your nape so it stays out of the way, and he can gently guide you along.

You pull off him for a moment, your breathing ragged, lips swollen and wet. You look so good, out of breath and overworked all just to please him. And you don’t relinquish all contact, your hand replacing, your mouth so you can jerking him off, twisting slightly at the top and letting your thumb run over the head of his cock. “You work so hard, Joel,” you mumble. “Just want to take care of you.”

“Fuck,” he growls at the words. Words he’ll remember on nights when you aren’t lying next to him in bed. He’s got to hold out a little longer, just to see what else you might say. 

It’s all you offer, though, because you wrap your lips around him once more. 

He’s getting close. It wasn’t going to take much to begin with – but it’s the first time you’ve ever gone down on him, it’s been a long day, everything is compiling together to make him feel hotter and hotter, the pressure at the apex of his thighs reaching its precipice. One of your hands leaves his thighs to cup his balls, the other working the part of him your mouth doesn’t reach. He loses all his composure, his head falling back as his hips roll forward, choked sounding phrases leaving him. “Keep going, baby – just like that– so fucking good–”

You obey, because of course you do, and before he knows it – he’s coming, hard. You don’t pull back at all, just swallow him down as he pulses down your throat.

Joel covers his face with his hands and tries to steady his breathing, thoroughly spent. He’s fucking hungry, still, but at this rate, he may fall asleep soon. Warm palms land on his chest. For a moment, he’d nearly forgotten where he was.

“You good?” he opens his eyes to find you hovering over him, amusement in your expression.

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles, reaches out. “You can’t be fucking real,” he murmurs softly, hand on your cheek. 

“Oh,” You pull back to retrieve your drink and take a sip. “I’m very real.” 

“Come here.” He rasps, pulling you forward into a kiss. 

When he attempts to deepen it, you pull back slightly. “Hey, uh…dinner’s gonna be ready any minute.” 

“Oh?” Joel asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “And I’m actually….well I’m actually kind of proud of it, so maybe we shouldn’t get too distracted.” 

“Really?” Joel settles on pulling you against his chest, and you settle there easily. He’s hit in these moments with the awe that you let him this close, that you’re willing to do even more for him, you already have. “Sarah told me you can’t cook.”

“What?” you say incredulously, your head lifting off his chest. “That’s not true. I can, I just don’t.”

“You seemed to know what you’re doing.” 

“I do,” you say confidently, then grimace. “Well, I mean, I can follow a recipe.”

Joel laughs. “I’m sure it’ll be good.” Your head goes back against his chest. He’s careful not to disturb you too much when he reaches for the remainder of his whiskey. “What is this?”

“Dunno,” and instead of reaching out for your own glass, you bring the hand that holds his own down to your lips to take a sip. He strokes your hair, watches you. “Bourbon.”

“It’s good,” Joel says, and drinks again. He wants to down the glass, then steal from yours like you did to him, but it tastes expensive. 

You continue on. “A client gave it to me today for some pro-bono work I did. It’s probably meant to be served neat, but….it’s too hot for that.”

“Nice of you to help them out.”

You make a noise of affirmation, almost dismissive, and Joel continues on.  “I should be doing more of that sort of thing.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug.

“You know I…..” you trail off for a minute, like you’re trying to decide if you want to share something with him. “All I do is work for corporations all day. I have to be kind of….manipulative? Self-serving. It’s a little exhausting. It’s nice when I can use my skills to actually help people, you know?”

“Can’t really picture you being manipulative,” Joel let’s his thumb graze over your cheek. 

He thinks you might laugh, but instead you pull back, your expression unreadable. It’s easy to see that you’re studying him carefully, and he strokes your arm, giving you the space to continue. “You should know I haven’t always been the best person, Joel. No one has ever really looked out for me, so….”  you trail off. “But I’ve been trying. To be better.”

You say it like you’re not convinced. Like you’ve been told it’ll never be possible. Joel gazes tucks your hair behind your ear reverently. “Wherever you’re at right now,” he says. “Is plenty good for me.”

“Yeah well,” your eyes flicker away – maybe it was too much. “Helps that I’ve been spending all my time with you and Sarah.” You smile gently, then change the subject. “Did you see, she did my nails?” 

Joel looks down at your hands. 

“What do you think?” you ask. 

“They’re very….pink.” 

“They are.” 

Joel is thankful that Sarah has an outlet that’s not himself for something like this. He tries to imagine what it would be like to show up at work with his nails painted, and knows that he’d get shit for the rest of his life. “Better you than me, I guess.”

“Don’t give me any ideas.”

He laughs. 

“Where is Sarah, tonight, anyways?” you ask Joel. 

“My parents take her out for dinner at the end of every school year,” Joel says. 

“Oh,” you seem a little surprised by the mention of his parents. “Do they live nearby?” 

“Not too far,” Joel says. “About an hour and a half drive out of the city, close to Fredericksburg. They’re on a ranch….out in the sticks.” 

“Is that where you grew up?” 

“Yeah,” he can’t help but smile to himself. “It’s different now, but….my parents owned a strawberry patch.” 

“Are you serious?” 

It seems like a different lifetime ago, but Joel still remembers it all so vividly. The busy spring season, visitors from the city flocking to his family’s little farm in the middle of nowhere to pick the ripe fruit straight from the vine. His father had taught him how to mend fences and keep the pests away, and his mother taught him how to tend to the plants, to prune and nurture. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Joel shakes his head, continuing to recall. “Tommy and I would always try to sneak as many strawberries as we could without our parents noticing,” Joel recalls. “And then inevitably eat so many he’d make himself sick, then we’d both get in trouble.” 

“Oh my god,” you shake your head in disbelief. “This doesn’t sound real. I need photos.” 

“I have them…somewhere,” Joel says, and he’s sure they’re buried in a box in the back of his closet. 

“It sounds so…idyllic,” you say, shaking your head. Joel had never thought much of it. Of course, when you’re a kid, your perspective is so narrow. Maybe he didn't realize how good he had it, and he supposes, to the right person, it might sound like a lie. It dawns on him that you're both so fundamentally different, but it doesn't feel that way.

A timer dings in the other room. 

“That’s the oven,” you say, shifting away from him and standing up. You offer him your hand to help him off the couch, and he bats it away, buttoning up his jeans before joining you. “Let’s eat.” 

Joel realizes that all the stress from the day has melted off, and he can’t even remember what exactly had him so flustered earlier. Right now, everything feels alright. 

---

tags: @netflix-imagines @waymorecake4me @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha @virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester @raindrcpsangel @dorotheapascal @mythical-mushrooms13 @chernayawidow @user294829329 @gushington-central @hollyismentallyillhelp @dresseduplikeacarcrash @corvusmorte @aheartgonewild @19891213 @emoslave44

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[bloopitynoot]

3 Shadowgast fics that made me ugly cry

Okay so I read a LOT of shadowgast fanfics and I wanted to share some of the ones that made me absolutely weep. (I was going to wait until tomorrow but I got too excited to share).

All of these have some intense emotional distress, but I promise you all they may be angsty but they absolutely have happy endings.

They are all set in very different AU's, are hefty completed fics, and have similar feels!

1. the breathe before the phrase

(171513 words) by @kmackatie Chapters: 20/20 Rating: Explicit Summary: The ringing note of a concert A is played by the oboe, echoing on its own in the space. It’s picked up by the wind section, followed rapidly by the brass, and the familiar feeling of an orchestra calibrating takes over Caleb. The tonal adjustments as each person brings their instrument into alignment sinks into him and something inside Caleb shifts in recognition as Essek leads the strings into their own tuning. It’s like something is waking up, like something unfurling and firing across long-unused paths of memory. His hands shake slightly, as he raises his bow and joins them, fingers fumbling against the pegs and fine tuners that give him control over his instrument. ---- Essek Thelyss is a leading violinist, his spot as Shadowhand of the Rosohna Philharmonic Orchestra has been uncontested for over a decade. Caleb Widogast is a recent arrival to the city, convinced by his friends to audition for one of the vacant violinist positions. After starting off on the wrong foot, Caleb and Essek get to slowly know each other, discover what brings them joy, create while defying expectations, and find out that what they can produce together may just be better than anything they can do separately.

Why I cried: The amount of pressure put on Essek made my heart absolutely shatter. That plus the pinning between Caleb and Essek had me weeping. The hurt/comfort energy. The bad parent Dierta and of course past Caleb Ickythong trauma healing. Other than the story itself Katie has put so much energy into explaining the music, the playlist is stunning, and the inspiration for the played pieces in the fic are grounded in actual compositions. No spoilers, but the ending is gorgeous <3

2.Till Human Voices Wake us

(66080 words) by @ariadne-mouse Chapters: 23/23 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Merman!Caleb, no Mighty Nein but otherwise canon setting/events, Neutral evil Essek, Essek-typical anxiety and fatalism, Loneliness, Hurt/Comfort, spooky gothic vibes, some horror and disturbing imagery, the ocean as a threat/love language, Illustrations, drowning themes Summary: Essek Thelyss, lonely and ambitious prodigy, comes to Nicodranas to make a risky gamble with the Assembly. At the water’s edge, he finds himself swept up in another dangerous entanglement he can't seem to escape — and as time goes on, he's less and less sure he wants to. Will his treasonous alliance or the sea itself devour him first? (Or, the one where Caleb is a merman.)

Why I cried: okay so look, this story was so fucking sad I can't even begin to describe it. The love and longing between the two, the tragic backstory for Caleb. Treason = death for Essek (it's a happy ending though so do not worry, but I definitely worried so you don't have to LOL). It also has some stunning art in it!!!

3. what luminous worlds await

what luminous worlds await (178674 words) by @essektheylyss Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Champion of the Luxon AU, Alternate Universe - Future, Space Opera, Religious Conflict, religious trauma, Violence, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Dreams vs. Reality, Demisexual Essek Thelyss, Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Fictional Religion & Theology, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mention of Using Sex as Self-Harm, several immortals grapple with loss while trying to save the world, so so many liberties taken with consecution, this wouldn't be a problem if you'd EXPLAIN matthew mercer, and/or if a certain drow would give literally any straight answers, (I mean he can't give straight answers when he's not straight), Background Fjorester (Past), Post-Canon, …very post-canon Summary: “You seek my nature. It is a lonely endeavor. Would you like to join me on this path?” “Yes.” — After a thousand years, a divine champion awakes in a lightless cave above Port Damali with little memory to speak of and a beacon in his hands. Even as he struggles to piece the past together and process what he has lost while he slept, the future demands he answer for the crimes of his elders. It offers little in return, but perhaps there are fragments of possibility awaiting him.

Why I cried: Omg oh boy, this one made me BIG cry- honestly one of my favourite fics I have read so far. A true space opera, a story of love, in many forms, over time, space, and multiple lives. I sobbed from chapter one literally until the end. Though I think you will need an A03 account to read this one, but it is worth the wait to set one up. My partner watched me cry so much while I read this. I totally did download and save this fic to send to pals so they can cry with me. It is worth the agony for this happy ending. I might still be crying LOL

[bones4thecats]

Can we please get Loona x Male Reader who has similar issues like Blitzo, but less extreme? Specifically believing that others are better off without them, and guilt for past incidents, although they never go as far as to hurt Loona. Loona probably has experience with this bc of Blitzo, I could also see Blitzo starting to like reader more, since he sees himself in them. Thanks for your time!

-🐺 anon

Loona's S/O With Similar Issues To Blitzo

Characters: Loona Buckzo Requester: 🐺Anon A/N: This obviously full of angst and fluff, so expect mentions of blood and fire. By the way, there are mature themes here so be aware of this! Have fun! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Blitzo's Backstory and S2 Ep8 ⚠️

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»———————————-　Loona Buckzo　———————————-««

🐺 Loona and you had first met years ago during a small debacle between your boss, Verosika Mayday, and her father. And when your brother, Vortex, and her began to speak and talk with him, you bonded just as well

🐺 During a follow-up job of yours while working with one of Verosika's recording directors, an electrical fire erupted and as you helped others get out, a rogue explosion bashed into one-half of your face, causing a massive burn to make you half-blind

🐺 Verosika had to let you go, much to Vortex and her chargains. You just told them it was understood why, and Vortex and Loona asked if you needed somewhere to stay, offering up their homes

🐺 You passed it off until you came by to hang out with Loona at your place, finding a paper saying you had a couple weeks to get your stuff out of the place due to a loss of your rent

🐺 Loona patted your shoulder and rubbed your arm, asking if you still didn't want to move in with her and her father, saying how he'd love having you around more. You two did get along well

🐺 You smiled and kissed her forehead, nodding before she called her dad and delivered the changed news to him. The only sound you could hear on the other end was the imp laughing and cheering, saying he would love having another guy in the apartment

🐺 When all of your things were moved into Loona's room, now you and her's, Blitzo had you fill out a paper on what you did and didn't like, in which you smiled nervously and wrote down everything

🐺 As the many weeks passed of you living with them, you noticed just how different their lives were now that you lived there. And you couldn't help but think, were you a burden to them? Would they be better without you there? Was this change in their lives your fault?

🐺 Later that day, Blitzo came home early from his 'time' with Stolas and knew that Loona would be out that night. She was going to hang out with Vortex while you stayed home, saying you didn't want to go out because you felt ill

🐺 Blitzo laid a sack on the counter-top and stretched his back before hanging his coat up and moving around the couch, only to find you laying there, wrapped up and crying...

"Kid, you good down there?"

"Am I a... am I a burden, Blitzo?"

"What? Who the fuck said you were a burden?!"

🐺 Holding your head up, Blitzo saw just how distressed you were. And it was far from pretty. It reminded him of himself when he was younger and just blaming himself for the loss of his mother and his family

🐺 You saw that Blitzo was kinda agitated when he came inside the apartment at that time, something must have gone wrong at Stolas'. And when you took the tissue that he offered you and whiped your nose and eyes, before asking what went wrong with Stolas

🐺 He sighed and began to rant to you on how stupid that bird was, how he was most definitely crossing a line with showering him with this rush of feelings. All they ever did was a contract-fucking, nothing like this!

"Y'know, I think we both have out own issues. Like we're fucked up in unique yet similar ways."

"Do you think we should tell Loona about it?"

"When the time is right, kiddo. Not yet. Anyways," Blitzo stands up and pops his back again before yawning and wrapping his tail around his leg in pleasure from the pop, "I need to get some sleep after this. Loona said she was on her way home a few minutes before I got here, so expect her soon, 'kay?"

"Yeah. And, hey Blitzo!"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, for being the father that I've needed for a while."

"... It's no problem, sweet dreams, okay?"

"Right back at 'ya..."

»–•–«

🐺 The sound of a door opening a closing made you look up from your phone tiredly, seeing your girlfriend hanging up her jacket and smile at you with a slight yawn

🐺 You stood up and noticed that when you hugged the hellhound, she slouched and began to snore, making you chuckle and carry her to your room

🐺 Maybe your thoughts were wrong... the way that Blitzo comforted you from your crying and the way that Loona balled herself in your arms to gain some more warmth and comfort just made you think more clearly

🐺 Maybe you weren't such a waste of space...

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Arven Fluff Alphabet

finally more arven content! thanks to the anon who requested this (sorry for the wait homie)

mostly wholesome fluff, a little bit of angst regarding arven's backstory, sv spoilers and gn! reader

A = Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? how do they spend their free time?)

It goes without saying but he loves cooking with you and for you. Even if you just sit on his bed while and chat with him while he makes you lunch, it makes him so happy to be doing his favourite thing with his favourite person. If you do want to take part, he’ll gladly make you his little sous-chef, or teach you how to cook if you haven’t before. Things get a little chaotic in the kitchen when you’re taking part, but that’s the best part.

Although the two of you have already explored Paldea together, he still loves when you two head out on an adventure (that includes a picnic obviously) where you wander around, taking in the beauty scenery, battling Pokémon, gathering ingredients, holding hands and enjoying each other’s company.

While neither of you particularly consider studying as a ‘fun’ activity, it is much easier when you study together. The two of you hunker down in one of your dorms and spend the afternoon making notes, helping each other solve equations, understand concepts and badly practise languages. He may be a year ahead of you, but you have some overlap in classes, and you still do your best to help and encourage him with stuff that’s above your grade-level.

He likes gaming with you too! He’s not a big gamer or anything, but he likes when you bring your switch over and you two play Mario Kart or Smash Brothers together. It’s usually fun and silly, but both of you can be quite excitable and competitive!

B = Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

Arven really admires your loyalty and kindness. When the two of you first met, he wasn’t the best, most considerate person, he wasn’t used to talking to people, and he was wrapped up in worry about Mabostiff at the time, but that doesn’t excuse his less than stellar behaviour. But still, you helped him, even before you knew why he needed your help.

In terms of your looks…. Arven thinks you’re so damn CUTE! Cuter than a freshly kneaded fidough (sweeter too). Your eyes, your smile, it just makes his heart melt every time. He can never me mad at that cute face.

C = Comfort (how do they help their s/o when they feel down? what makes them feel better?)

His immediate response is to wrap you up in a big, warm, tight hug. He’s not really sure how to verbally comfort someone (and he’s not going to talk to you like he talks to his dog) so he just hugs you close, gently holding your face to his chest and brushing your hair, letting you know you have someone there to protect and comfort you. He won’t say much at all, mainly because he doesn’t know what to say. But he’ll listen. And sometimes that’s all you need.

Plus, you can’t go wrong with a homecooked meal or a baked treat!

He’s not used to being comforted by people. The comfort he’s used to receiving is Mabostiff slumping against him, and he has to wipe away his own tears. Having you comfort him is jarring at first, it’s alien to him, but he settles into it. He likes when you play with his hair, that really relaxes him. Since you’re a person, you actually understand what he’s saying, so it makes him feel better to know you comprehend what’s troubling him.

He also really loves when you just talk to him. Just saying soft and sweet comforting things to him. It’s a small gesture but it means the world.

D = Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o and in general?)

Although it’s a recent decision, he is very set on the idea of being a chef, and he’s already taking steps to reach his goal. He’s not sure if he wants to work in a restaurant, or open his own, or run a little stall or food truck, or even in the school cafeteria. As long as he’s cooking though, he’ll be content.

In terms of getting married and having kids, he, he doesn’t want to think about that right now. You’re both still very young, and he has a lot of… complicated feelings around the subject (rightfully so). But what he does know, is that he wants you by his side, always.

He is not looking forward to graduating before you. He’s gonna miss you so much :( even though you’ll still be able to hang out.

E = Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or are they rather passive?)

While he does have his bursts of assertion, it’s typically you. You suggest dates, you initiate affection, you steer the ship so to speak. He likes it though, he’s never been in a relationship before so he doesn’t know what he’s doing... but he also likes how he can be the one in charge if he wants, and you have no issue.

F = Fight (how quick are they to forgive their s/o? what are they like in an argument? who says sorry first?)

Arven isn’t the most emotionally mature person. Sure, he had to grow up faster than most, but he doesn’t have the best approach to conflict thanks Sada and Turo. He’s still a teenage boy too.

So, when he argues, he has a habit of blaming the other party, even if he’s at fault. He shouts and flails his arms and pulls at his hair, it can actually be quite scary, considering his build (but of course, he would never lay a hand on you.)

As a result of his upbringing (or lack thereof), it can take him a while to forgive you, even longer to admit fault. He will simmer with his anger by himself, sulking, until his love for you slowly starts to creep back in and soften him up again. He loves you, he misses you… why is he making this harder for the both of you?

He is getting better though.

G = Gifts (what kind of things do they gift to their s/o? are they spontaneous or do they stick to special events like anniversaries?)

When Arven gives gifts, he doesn’t realise that’s what he’s doing. He just thinks he’s looking out for you. It’s typically some kind of homemade snack, or battle items, or school supplies, or even a cute plush or keyring. If he thinks you might need something, or it’ll make you smile, it’s worth every penny/ounce of effort.

For something like your birthday or anniversary, he puts a lot of thought into getting you something you’d like. Typically, instead of getting you one big present, he gets you lots of small ones, basically making you up a goodie bag of thoughtful items.

H = Heart Eyes (what are they like in love? is it obvious to others? how do they express their love? do they brag about their s/o to others?)

Even before you were together, it was so obvious that he was in love with you Penny had a field day fr. All blushy and happy, constantly thinking and talking about you. He constantly wants to touch your hand and squeeze it. And when you do get together, it’s basically the same, but now he CAN hold your hand.

He’s not super great with words or affection, but those little hand squeezes and big hugs and that look full of adoration tells you all you need.

Arven is your biggest fan hands down, he thinks you’re the coolest thing since sliced bread. He doesn’t even realise he’s bragging, he just loves gushing about how awesome you are <3

I = Impression (what first attracted them to their s/o? how accurate was their first impression to how their s/o actually is?)

He didn’t realise it at first, so oblivious to his own feelings, but he thought you were so cute. Just so cute and pretty. His brain rationalised it into you being helpful and trustworthy (which to his credit, you are)

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?)

ARVEN IS SO JEALOUS! Jealous of literally anybody who interacts with you. And he was like that in your friendship too. You saw how he bickered with Nemona over which one of them was your best friend. It just extends into your relationship.

When he feels particularly threatened, he gets a little huffy and sulky, grabbing your hand, urging you away from the person, sometimes even standing between you and them. He’s not the kind of person who’ll blame you for his jealousy, nor will he stop you meeting up with people he’s jealous of.

His jealousy is born from insecurity and his abandonment issues. Both his parents, people who were supposed to love him unconditionally, left him at different points in his life, and he is so worried you’ll do the same.

K = Kiss (are they a good kisser? what was their first kiss like? where do they kiss the most?)

Arven gives two kinds of kisses; tender, brief, almost unsure kisses, and abrupt, passionate, nigh on suffocating kisses.

Your first kiss was the former. His heart was thumping in his chest as he held your hands in his own, blushing softly as he looked down at you before leaning in, and pressing a brief, but gentle kiss against your lips, smiling all the while. Afterwards, he turned ever redder and started apologising. Poor baby

He loves to kiss your all over your face and your hands. Especially your hands. He likes absentmindedly kissing your knuckles and fingertips.

L = Little Things (what are the little things they love about their s/o? are they attentive?)

He loves your smile, the twinkling in your eyes, how close you like to stand and sit next to him, when you brush his hair away from his face.

He especially loves all the small things you do to make his life easier, like organising his bag, or helping him with his notes or looking after Mabostiff.

M = Marriage (do they want to get married? how do they propose? what would the wedding be like?)

Arven… Arven doesn’t know if he wants to get married, you can blame his parents’ failed relationship for that. And you’re both still so young.

He does think about it sometimes though, it’s not a definite no from him. He does like the idea of setting your love in stone, and having a very small wedding, even in a courthouse, could be nice.

If he were to propose, it would be at home. He’d make your favourite meal, you’d eat it by candlelight, and then he’d ask you. Though in reality, you’re more likely to propose.

N = Nicknames (what do they call their s/o? what do they get called?)

He still calls you ‘little buddy’ because that’s who you are! You’re his little buddy and his s/o and he LOVES you. Your partner should be your best friend, right?

Though, in private, he likes to call you ‘Honeybun’ because you’re just as sweet as one! Penny heard him call you ‘Honeybun’ once and she died.

You sometimes call him ‘Arv’ or ‘Arvy’, and even nicknames like ‘babe’ and ‘sweetie’. He gets very flustered when you call him the last two. In a good way

O = Open (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? is it easy for them to share?)

You probably know more about Arven than he does about himself. Being friends first, you were there for the whole journey saving Mabostiff, and your adventure to Area Zero, where you learned more about his parents, and their fates. So, Arven really doesn’t have much to hide from you anymore.

In saying that, he’s still not the best with his emotions, and he tends to keep them to himself. You are pretty adept at noticing when he’s brooding, and you are always happy to lend an ear, so you do find out what’s going on in the end.

P = Pancakes (are they a good cook? how often do they cook for their s/o? breakfast in bed or fancy dinner dates?)

We all know Arven has an exceptional cooking skill. And he loves to cook too, for you specifically. It makes him feel needed, like a provider, cooking for you. You rarely eat cafeteria food now, when Arven makes you a delicious breakfast, scrumptious lunch and mouth-watering dinner, all out of the kindness of his own heart and a few kisses <3

When you do go out for food, you tend to just go to a little café or a food stall, nothing fancy, but that’s not the point! The point is the two of you enjoying some good grub as you spend time together!

Q = Quirk (a random quality/ability that is beneficial to their relationship.)

Arven runs hot, and he dresses warmly too. So, if you’re ever cold, you basically have your own portable heater (that cooks (and cuddles!)). He can just wrap himself around you in a big hug to heat you up in no time!

R = Romance (how romantic are they? are they cliché or creative?)

Arven is trying his best to be romantic, because he thinks you deserve it, he’s just not 100% sure how to go about it. Cooking for you is romantic, but he doesn’t see it like that, ironically enough.

He just gets you little gifts and hopes it’ll be enough for you.

S = Sleep (who falls asleep first? do they need their s/o close to them? do they have any bad habits?)

You two don’t normally sleep next to each other, only when camping and occasionally a nap when you’re supposed to be studying. Usually, it’s you who falls asleep first, and you blame Arven for being so warm and squishy, however if you are playing with his hair, he will be out like a light.

When you do sleep next to each other, he loves to cuddle you the entire time, having you next to him makes him feel so content.

And of course, Mabostiff inevitably joins you two, by slumping on top of you both and crushing you a little but he’s still the best doggie

T = Thrill (do they need to spice up their relationship with new things or do they stick to a routine? how often do they do new things?)

Arven actually really likes the routine and mundanity of your relationship. After all, he’s not really used to such stability, so he finds comfort in it. Not to mention, being in a relationship is still so new to him, he doesn’t want to overwhelm himself by going too fast or trying new things.

However, if you want to try something, he will probably join you, after some convincing of course or just grabbing his hand and dragging him to it lol

U = Unity (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? what traits do they share?)

Your friendship, and now, relationship, showed him that he didn’t have to do it alone. That he could reach out and get support and companionship. That he deserved love and care and kindness. And he is endlessly grateful for that.

V = Value (how important is their relationship to them? what is it worth compared to other things in their life?)

With the amount of comfort and happiness you’ve brought him, you are probably the most important living thing to him, alongside Mabostiff. You really do fill every day with joy and light, even just a touch of your hands makes him grin like a schoolkid with a crush (which is partially true)

W = Wild Card (a random fluff headcanon.)

He has become your guineapig (would that be a dedenne in this context?) for hairstyling. He loves it, of course. He doesn’t care if he looks silly afterwards, he loves the feel of your hands on his hair.

X = XOXO (do they like to kiss and cuddle? are they upfront about their relationship or rather shy when in public?)

This boy is so incredibly touch starved… all he ever wants to do is hug you close to him, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your scent OR he wants to put his hands on your cheeks and kiss you all over your cute face until your giggling and telling him to stop.

The feel of your softness and warmth against him just makes him all gooey inside, sometimes he just likes slumping himself against you, just to feel you.

So awkward and flustered, he doesn’t really engage in PDA, aside from holding your hand. Occasionally, he will give you a quick kiss in public to say goodbye, but he usually ushers you off to the side to do so.

Y = Yearning (how do they cope when they spend time away from their s/o? do they miss their s/o?)

He does not cope well with your absence. With the two of you being so young, your relationship so new, and basically spending all your time together, it’s inevitable that he gets attached. So, when you’re away on the Kitakami trip, he falls into a slump, missing his little buddy terribly. Every time his phone goes off and it’s not a text from you, his heart breaks a little.

He makes sure to call you every day, trying to hide how much he misses you even if it’s obvious. He doesn’t want you to feel bad for this awesome opportunity, but it’s hard for him without his honeybun!

He will smother you with hugs and kisses when you get back and he will cry

Z = Zoo (do they have pets? do they want some in the future?)

Of course, Mabostiff is your 3’7” 61kg 10+ year old baby. He’s definitely treated more like a pet than the rest of your Pokémon.

With the exception of you -aidon, who Arven has slowly learned to tolerate and love­ over the last few months.

[blurredcolour]

In My Blood | Epilogue

In My Blood Masterlist

Curtis "Curt" Biddick x SOE!Female Reader

The war has been over for months. It has been even longer since you bade Curt a tearful farewell on the tarmac at St. Mawgan. So why are you standing in his neighbourhood, on his street?

Warnings: MAJOR canon divergence, Language, Cold, Angst, Death, Grief, Displacement, Fluff, Holidays, Family, Tearful Reunion, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes- 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: This story contains revisionist history, read at your own risk. Reader is half-Belgian, half-English and has been given an extensive backstory and family tree. While they have been given the codename of "Marie," no physical descriptions or Y/N are used.

Italics used for non-English words and to indicate dialogue spoken in a language other than English.

This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 2815

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December 21, 1945

Snowflakes were idly wending their way to the ground on the treelined streets of the Woodlawn Heights neighbourhood of The Bronx, their path as slow and aimless as yours. Children who had been playing outside in the first flurries of the year, school dismissed early for the holidays, were gradually called inside for dinner, taking their laughter and seasonal excitement with them.

You were honestly not quite sure what you were doing here in this remarkably tranquil slice of New York, bordered by a park, and perhaps more ominously a cemetery. Why you had strayed so far afield from your rented flat on the Upper East Side, from your office at Lloyd’s America. Yet as your glove-clad fingers traced over the tattered edges of the worn envelope in the pocket of your fashionable winter coat, you knew exactly what had brought you here. To this tiny corner of the world that had birthed and shaped perhaps the only good thing that had come to you in the last six years. That you had so painfully set free.

It had been a long seventeen months of imparting your wisdom to the next generation of SOE agents at the schools that had once shaped your talents. Frustrated to have been relegated behind the lines and yet it had been rewarding all the same to remain involved courtesy of Smythe’s assistance. Focused as you were on the ultimate defeat of Hitler and his pathetic Reich, it still would have been false to claim that Curt had not taken up permanent residence in the back of your mind – a source of worry, of concern, but of hope.

And so when the office closed at three for the holidays, everyone rushing home to their families, you surrendered at last that gnawing curiosity about the street address scrawled on the envelope you had carried with you since that rainy day on the tarmac in late November 1943.

“You look pretty lost there, gorgeous.” That unforgettable voice cut through the gathering twilight as the streetlights began to flicker on, and you could not help your short laugh of surprise as your heart lurched, looking down sheepishly at being so easily spotted.

Clearly you had spent too long in the classroom, in civilian life. Had lost your edge as a field agent. Or perhaps a part of you had been so convinced you would never get a chance to see him again that you had failed to even consider the possibility of running into him by coming here.

“Pretty sure Belgium is…” there was a pause as he angled his body before pointing to what must be the northeast “…that way.”

Risking a small glance up at him, your eyes sank again quickly as your throat spasmed at just a glimpse of him. Dragging the toe of your boot through the accumulated dusting of snow on the sidewalk, you cleared your throat painfully to force out “turns out the home I fought for isn’t there anymore…”

Certainly, you had not expected things to snap back to normal with the Nazi surrender – you had seen firsthand a great deal of the damage of the invasion and occupation. Yet you had been utterly unprepared for what greeted you upon your return to Brussels that August. The scars of liberation were even deeper than those left by the occupiers. Yes, Europe had been freed, but the cost had been steep. The house you had grown up in flattened, the factories you were supposed to have inherited seized by the government, and the second house in Wallonia taken over by another family. People you had known for years treated you as a coward, as someone who had fled in fear with the King and his court, living in comfort abroad while they had suffered under the heel of the Nazi jackboot. And it would have been against the Official Secrets Act to correct them. Thanking your father for his foresight to move the majority of his fortune to Swiss banks, you had ensured a fitting burial for your parents and had hired a lawyer to sort through the property battles that would surely drag on for years to come.

Returning to England in September, you had learned the Dowager Marchioness had died in your brief absence and left the majority of her estate to you – to your bewilderment and the Marquess’s ire. Ensuring that your cousin Philomena had received the tiara she had always coveted, you had packed up the rest of your newly inherited items and had turned your eyes to the ‘new world.’ To an entirely new life in a new place that had nothing to do with war or societal expectation. Lloyd’s of London had a branch in New York and had been eager to hire you with your multiple languages and exemplary war service with the ATS. You had been on a boat by the first week of November.

Exhaling heavily at the weight of all that had transpired, you watched the tips of Curt’s shoes came into view as he stepped closer.

His finger hooked beneath your chin and gently lifted your eyes up to meet his, softened to a sky blue by empathy. “I’m sorry.” He spoke gently, his breath visible in the crisp air.

You blinked rapidly as his face threatened to blur behind tears “Me too.”

Whether your regret stemmed from the way you had parted or the fact that your life was forever changed, you did not elaborate. Most likely, it was both. His fingers unfurled beneath your chin to cup your cheek fully as he frowned, a shiver trembling through you at the warmth in his palm.

“You’re cold.” He muttered, shuffling closer.

You sniffed softly. “Not as cold as the mountains.” You finished with a rueful laugh, a crooked smile unfurled on his features.

“Don’t think I’ll ever be that cold again.”

As you laughed more freely, you realized he was not even wearing a proper coat, clad only in a sweater, really, a bottle of milk clutched in his free hand. “You need to get inside, you’re not even in a jacket.” You chided.

“Come with me, have some dinner. The family would love to meet you.” His offer was spoken casually but his eyes betrayed a fragile hopefulness.

A riot of butterflies fluttered to life in your abdomen, but you inhaled quickly, needing to make something clear before you accepted his invitation.

“I can’t…” his face fell, and you rushed to finish the statement, quickly cupping his cheeks, slightly annoyed at the barrier of your gloves, “tell them who I am, what I did…it would be treason.”

He exhaled slowly, gaze ricocheting across your face rapidly. “So that’s not a ‘no.’”

Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you shook your head firmly. “It’s a ‘yes, I’d love to,’ but we just need to think of an explanation of how we know one another. How we met.”

As you spoke, you were acutely aware of the way his eyes came to settle on your mouth, his own lips parting slightly, making your pulse increase markedly.

“First, just let me…” His eyes flicked up to yours before sliding back down to your lips and you leaned in unconsciously, meeting him halfway for a firm kiss, sliding your arms around him tightly to help warm him.

Curt’s arms encircled you tightly, pulling you close in turn, the milk bottle digging into your shoulder blade slightly as he entrapped you. You would have verbally assured him you had no intent of going anywhere this time, yet he was also doing a very thorough job of keeping your mouth occupied, rendering you silent save for soft exhales of delight. Pulling back only to satiate the need for oxygen, visible puffs of air accumulated in the minimal space between you.

“Cannot think when you do that.” You complained teasingly and he smirked broadly with a dangerous glint to his eyes.

“Shame.” He replied without an ounce of remorse, followed by a kiss that tasted of fierce possessiveness, his tongue sliding along yours, making your fingers curl into the knit of his sweater as you grew dizzy.

There was something achingly familiar, comforting, and yet refreshing to be in his arms again. It did not feel like you were trying to seek out some obliterated past, but rather picking up an extraordinary novel in progress, set down a while ago, with new and incredible pages yet to discover. Lungs burning, you reluctantly broke the seal of your lips, biting the inside of your cheek to tame the absurd grin that wanted to crack your face wide open as he buried his chilled cheeks in the warmth of your collar. Quickly unbuttoning your jacket, you coaxed him closer to share more body heat as the sun had since fully set.

“What brought you to New York, anyway?” He murmured, lips brushing against your neck as he spoke, making swallow tightly before you could reply.

“This man I met told me it was a pretty great place to live, so I got a job here.”

You could feel the huff of his laugh, the curl of his grin. “Sounds like a smart fella.”

“Mmmm humble, too.” You chuckled.

The sound of a window scraping up in its frame from the red brick apartment building above you reverberated through the otherwise silent street, the exasperated voice of a woman echoing down.

“Curtis Rundle, I sent you for milk twenty minutes ago what is…oh!” Her annoyance at Curt turned to an exclamation of surprise as the pair of you turned to look up at her where she leaned out the second story window.

“Can you set another place, ma? My Belgian princess finally found her way home.” Curt grinned and gave you a tight squeeze at your sharp inhale as he continued to deliberately mistitle you.

It took all your strength not to laugh brightly when two more feminine faces bearing his same charmingly blunt features popped out the window as well.

“I would hate to impose…” You called up, suddenly recalling your manners.

“Nonsense! There’s plenty of food, please come in. Curtis bring the lady inside before she freezes to death.” The last was delivered a lot more sharply and much more like an order from a general, making you chuckle under your breath even as Curt seized your hand to drag you inside.

Following him up the concrete stairs, Curt burst into the warm apartment with you in tow, a flurry of activity within as the three women were adding another chair and place setting to the simple but obviously loved wooden dining table. Curt handed off the bottle of milk to one of his sisters, whether it was Ann or Charlotte, they did not stop long enough to make an introduction, before he took your coat to hang it up once you had slid the gloves into the pocket. You wished you had changed after work, dressed in a chic black office dress with a brooch to impress, utterly out of place amongst their handmade and mended, cheery fabrics.

But then Delphia emerged from the kitchen and smiled at you warmly.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest thing, what a lovely couple you two make.”

Shaking her hand warmly, you introduced yourself quickly. “Thank you so very much for the last-minute invitation, I do apologize I have arrived empty-handed. Please allow me to return the favour one day?”

“Only if you insist, now come sit, lets get some warm food into you.” She guided you to the table, introducing her daughters who sat opposite you, putting faces to names whispered back in the mountain village of Esterri D’Aneu.

“So what did you do during the war?” Charlotte launched right into it, earning a look of admonishment from her elder sister but only reminding you of her brother.

“Well, I was living in England at the time, so I volunteered with the Auxiliary Territorial Service.” You provided your standard answer. Your sanitized, cover answer.

“Like Princess Elizabeth.” Ann nodded eagerly and you nodded in confirmation.

“Yes, actually we had similar roles, both of us worked as drivers. Though I am not, despite your brother’s insistence, a princess.”

“She is nobility though, don’t let her fool you.” Curt chided as he began to fill the table with dishes of food under his mother’s watchful eye.

Shooting him a look, the damage was already done, and you were forced to launch into the convoluted explanation of your lineage, neither of his sister’s any clearer on where you stood by the time his mother sat down to say grace. Insisting on serving you first, your mouth was full of food when the dreaded question, the one that Curt and his insistent kisses had left you utterly unprepared to answer, arose.

“How did you two meet?”

It was Charlotte again, scooping a heap of potatoes onto her plate as her eyes flicked between the pair of you, seated side-by-side, eagerly.

You were in the midst of wracking your brain for something to say when Curt started speaking.

“This gorgeous woman here helped me get back,” his hand landed gently on your knee under the table, squeezing reassuringly as your grip on your fork grew painfully tight, “to base one night in July after I got a little lost after some fun at the pub. One look at her behind the wheel and I was lost.”

Ducking your head slightly under such praise, and to hide your exhale of relief, you stealthily slid your hand over his where it still lay on your thigh, squeezing in gratitude as Charlotte was exclaiming how utterly romantic it was before somehow relating it to the story of how she met her Randolph. More than happy to take the bait, you leaned forward, asking just the right questions to send her into the whole tale of their love affair, taking the heat off you and Curt.

Sitting back, eating a homecooked meal, laughing quietly as Ann and Curt teased Charlotte mercilessly with Delphia watching on fondly, you were suddenly struck by how utterly warm you felt inside and out. Ann’s soft repetition of your voice jarred you back to the present and you thanked her softly as she took your empty plate to the kitchen, Delphia and Charlotte already in there fixing dessert, Curt’s fingers lacing through yours.

“What’s going through that scarily gorgeous head of yours?” He leaned in to utter just for you to hear and you swallowed thickly, glancing around before looking to him softly.

“You…this place…your family…” you began hesitantly, “feels an awful lot like home.” You finished in a soft whisper.

A slow grin stretched across his face, growing to an utterly blinding intensity that had your teeth sinking into your lower lip.

“Careful gorgeous, you’re gonna get yourself kissed in front of my whole family and then neither of us will hear the end of it.” There was a dangerously raspy edge to his voice that had you pressing your lips together tightly, trying your best to behave as bowls of sticky toffee pudding were set out in front of you.

“Where are you spending the holidays?” Delphia asked warmly as she and the girls settled back into their chairs, everyone digging into the delicious dessert.

“Oh I don’t have any plans, honestly, just another weekend for me really.”

“You must spend it with us then!” Charlotte cried out, looking appalled at the idea of you spending the next few days alone.

“Yes, please, we would love to have you.” Delphia smiled warmly.

“This year and every year after that if you’d like.” Curt’s easy statement could have been mistaken for warm hospitality and yet…

Turning sharply to him to face him, a collective gasp sounding from his sisters across the table, he nodded earnestly.

“If we feel like home, better make it official and marry me already.” As usual, his words were brash and playful, but there was something tender and fragile in his gaze as he lay himself out there completely.

Setting your spoon down, you swallowed incredulously. “That is certainly one way to propose. Now you’re the one getting yourself kissed in front of your whole family.”

Grasping his face, you pulled him close to kiss him firmly, earning hoots of triumph from Charlotte and more lady-like exclamations of delight from Ann and Delphia. You did not linger too long, more than aware of your audience, desperately trying not to giggle at the rather disorientated way he stared back at you.

“Wait…” He breathed eventually. “…that a yes?”

“Yes!” You declared with a peal of laughter, grinning against his lips as he pulled you close for a triumphant kiss of his own.

“Not letting you go ever again.” Curt muttered against your lips.

“Not going anywhere.” You assured him firmly.

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In My Blood Masterlist

Tag list: @precious-little-scoundrel, @luminouslywriting, @polikabra, @beingalive1

[hina-hina]

i LOVED könig friends to lovers. maybe ghost w friends to lovers? ❤️❤️❤️

Hello friend!! Of course I can do that one for you! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! (○｀ 3′○)

This came out as more of a childhood friend trope because I got a good idea for it (o′┏▽┓｀o)

This fic has a good amount about Ghost's backstory, nothing too in depth but if you don't know what I'm talking about, a good glance over his Fandom page should be find (trigger warning for content within).

This is eventually a rewrite of Ghost's backstory but with you as his childhood friend/partner. Some details have been changed and is no way accurate to his actual backstory.

→ COD Masterlist

|| Ghost Having a Friends to Lovers Trope With Reader ||

Tags: Friends to Lovers Trope, Fluff, Hurt!Ghost, Comfort, Childhood Friends, Getting Together, Pre-Relationship, Protective Ghost,

Warnings: Talks of Ghost's backstory (child abuse, neglect, and murder), heavy angst at some parts, mentions of torture and injuries (non graphic)

Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic

So, we all know how awful Ghost's childhood is

It wasn't really the place where friends were easily made

So I imagine for this trope to work, it has to be a forced proximity situation

So, like you were a neighbor kid or perhaps like a teacher assigned tutor for him

Nevertheless, despite Ghost having trouble getting close to anyone, you were always there and eventually the two of you fell into an easy friendship

If your more talkative, he would let you take the lead in conversations, happy to just listen and insert little comments here and there

If your quiet like him, the two of you are content to just sit in silence with each other

The two of you also had this kinda quick-witted banter with each other, even if your more on the quiet side

As the two of you got closer, he tried harder to keep his home life away from you

Partly because he didn't want to burden you and partly because he didn't want to soil his "happy place" with what happens at his house

However you do eventually find out one day when he comes to you after he gained a pretty bad bite from a snake because he needs help cleaning it

The night is spent quietly sitting in your bathroom floor as you clean his wounds, him not even flinching when the peroxide touches the bite

You, very gently as to not spook him, wrap him up in your arms and tell him that you will always be there for him no matter what

He says nothing, carefully returning the hug

The two of you get older and when he tells you that he wants to go into the military, you respect that decision despite how much it scares you

You support him as he reconnects with his brother and gets him clean, you even go to his wedding as Simon's "date"

Your sure he means it in a platonic way

He does not

Eventually the two of you have some sort of disagreement (Because of course I have to add drama to these)

Unfortunately, this argument happens right before he leaves to go on a mission to take down the Zaragoza Drug Cartel

To take down Manuel Roba

He had already told you he was going on a short mission in Iran before he had been attached to the American team and had no time to inform you of the sudden change in plans

Therefore, all you had left of him when he went MIA was a unanswered Voicemail from the day he left on the mission

You spent many nights listening to this voicemail, wrapping yourself up in the hoodies he left behind, crying for him because you didn't know if he was even still alive

The military would barely tell Simon's family anything and you were told even less, left to think he had just died somewhere they couldn't retrieve his body and the last conversation you had was a petty argument

Months pass and eventually you move farther away from your childhood town in Manchester, not really keeping in contact with Simon's family beyond short phone calls

You get a phone call from Simon's brother one day, him claiming that Simon was found on the border of Texas, injured but alive

You go to meet him at the hospital and at first he tries to hide his face from you

After you urging, he shows you that he now has many facial scars, including a Glasgow Smile, and he was afraid of what you would think of them

It's a rare show of vulnerability, one that causes you to press a soft kiss to his lips and exclaim to him that you don't care what he looks like, just that your happy he is home

Simon is put on leave from active duty to heal his injuries and he lives with you during this time

He also develops a bad temper, usually causing it to come out whenever you push him to talk about what happened

This causes him to shout and run off, often being gone for many hours at a time

The two of you never really put a name to what you are but it's obviously romantic

He would return home after a while, apologizing profusely

He explains to you how terrified he is of becoming his father and than he would never forgive himself if he laid a hand on you

These nights usually ended up with him crying silently and allowing you to hold him, you telling him that he isn't anything like his father

He then meets up with two of the teammates he had from the Roba mission, realizing they have been brainwashed by Roba

He gets a frantic call from his brother, and goes there to see that his family had been killed by Washington.

He kills Washington before realizing Sparks is not there, quickly calling you

He quickly drives to your apartment, see that it has been broken into

He fears your already dead, but instead finds you severely injured

He cries over your body, trying desperately to get you to wake up

He holds your body as the ambulance arrives, he leaves you in the hospital after leaving again to find Sparks and kill him

He leaves to Mexico, eventually killing him and gaining all of his Intel causing him to be recruited into the 141

He returns home to leave that you had been in critical condition but pulled through, not awake and lucid and asking for him

He enters your room, slowly, not yet approaching your bed

Despite this you smile when you see him, asking him if he is hurt

The breaks him, he crouches by your bedside and grabs your hand:

"Love, I thought you were dead and you're asking me if I am ok? You're outta your damn mind..."

He tells you what happened to his family, that you are in danger by just being associated with him and that you should get out while you still can

You smile, placing a hand on his masked cheek before taking it off

You see tears lingering on his waterline, gently brushing them away with the pad of your thumb

You tell him that you are with him through everything and there is no way your walking away now

He promises to make sure nothing ever happens to you

You help him organize the funeral, hold his hand while he says goodbye to his family

The two of you move to London to be closer to the Task Force's base, him urging you to keep his name a secret from those that you talk with

He looks forward to coming home to you, hiding a ring in his bedside table and saving it for the right moment

Thank you for reading!! ⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettproof @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

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1. Thank you for answering my last request 🖤

For the next in “ITMF” I would like to read some good fanfics with Lan Wangji being older than Wei Wuxian

I’m okay with omegaverse, fantasy setting and problematic content in case anyone wonders @kanrax-blog

you only ever touch me in the dark by sweetlolixo (E, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Dark LWJ, Older LWJ, Age Difference, Boypussy, Intersex WWX, Feminization, Rape/Non-con Elements, Dirty Talking LWJ, Stalking, Size Difference, WWX Has a Non-Con Kink, Dark WWX, Daddy Kink, Mirror Sex, Restraints, Virginity Kink, Blindfolds, Deranged4Deranged Wangxian)

and

4018 by sweetlolixo (E, 28k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, A/B/O Dynamics, Older LWJ, Immortal LWJ, Pregnant WWX, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Age Difference, Boypussy, Vaginal Fingering, Dry Humping, Knotting, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talking LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Size Difference, Feminization) as well as few other works by sweetlolixo. beware tho quite a few of those fics deal with consent issues (although most of the time it is deranged4deranged wangxian)

Like stones on an unseen board by Vir_Abelasan (Not Rated, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dark LWJ, Older LWJ, Teacher LWJ, dark twin jades, Age Difference, Manipulation, Protective LWJ, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Corporal Punishment, Relatively canon-typical abusive Jiangs, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Not Jiang Clan Friendly) lwj is mid-20s, wwx is ~18; dark-ish but protective twin jades; not jiang friendly. warning that this one ends pre-relationship!

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2. this is a bit specific but may i ask for fic where someone starts calling wwx 'the son of a-' and gets interrupted by 'the son of who? cssr, bssr's disciple? wcz, a rogue cultivator?' the cinderella fic has a similar line but not exactly (bc its said against wwx's own self deprecation). (honestly, i would also love a cutting response of 'ok he's the son of a servant and still better than all of u, you were saying?' but the gentry probably won't compute that lol) thank you!

SIMILAR! golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not Rated, 95k, WIP, WangXian, Canon, Slow-ish burn, Sugar Daddy LWJ, which is an anachronistic term for this fic but it fits, Light Angst, Fluff, Developing Relationship, WWX gets all the appreciation he deserves, even if he’s a bit confused about it at first, warprize au with a twist, in that everyone thinks WWX is a warprize, but LWJ has only platonic and honourable intentions, at first 😏, Eventual Smut) similar to #2, in the latest chapter of this fic, lwj interrupts someone who's about to call wwx son of a servant

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3. Hello! Do you know any fics with the same vibe as By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller? Or any like To Choose Another Path by TsumugiHitomi? Thank you so much!

The Concubine Mo Chronicles Series by Enigmatree (T, 71k, WangXian, Royalty AU, Prince LWJ, Concubine WWX, Mild Hurt/Comfort) maybe ?? or at least i kinda associate them lol

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4. Hi! Do any of you lovelies know of fics in which A) Nie Huaisang is the one to donate his core to Jiang Cheng? I mean, it's not like he's using it, right? And B) fics that feature Jin Zixuan & Mianmian's friendship? That doesn't have to be the fic's focus, but I'd love to see some backstories there. Both canon era and modern AUs are welcome. Thanks! @danegen

4B)

mianmian the disaster lesbian saves the cultivation world by likeshipsonthesea (T, 27k, wangxian, LWJ & LQY, LWJ & JZX, fix-it, friendship, awesome LQY, war, blood & injury, light angst, self-acceptance, awkward JZX)

Candy & Conspiracies by Reverie (cl410) (T, 16k, WangXian, XuanLi, MianQing, Jīn Sect WWX, Chaos Gremlin WWX, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Cloud Recesses, Found Family, pure idiocy, And some light murder, good madam jin, No Angst, Canon Divergence)

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5. anyone has any recommendations of modern with cultivation aus? preferably similar to "the truth will out (when caught in video)" by kizu_katana, or just good and similar to the book characterizations (im also a little in the mood for some not jiang friendly). thank you ♥︎

a tide in two seas by occultings (microcomets) (E, 81k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, parallel universes, post-canon, getting together, pining, case fic) this, is kinda modern, but as in modern wangxian travel back in tima and meet canon wangxian

💙 this river runs to you by sundiscus (T, 53k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Mutual Pining, Dragons, Literal Sleeping Together, Tender wound tending) and of course, my absolute favorite

Work in Tandem by MimiSpearmint (E, 23k, wangxian, LWJ & LSZ, modern cultivation, single parent LWJ, swordflight instructor WWX, fluff, protective LWJ, getting together, smut) but this one's jiang positive iirc

💙 the soft animal of your body by sysrae (T, 15k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, modern culitvation, Golden Core Reveal, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Animal Transformation, Shapeshifting, Sort Of, Getting Together, Confessions)

Hear a song this deeply by so_shhy (T, 87k, wangxian, modern cultivation, music, kid fic, action/adventure, canon typical JGY behavior, slow burn, fluff & angst, happy ending)

Coil Tightly by Thunderstruck (Blueyed_Impala) (T, 50k, WangXian, Dragon LWJ, Shifters, Modern with Magic, WWX is oblivious to magic, Slow Burn, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, References to Animal Abuse but the animal is LWJ, Hurt/Comfort, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, WWX has abandonment issues, Possessive LWJ, Clueless Flirting, OC Lan disciples for plot reasons)

other earths and skies by binghecarer (T, 53k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, (but not in the typical way?), Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Scars and Injuries, Curses, making a deal with a mysterious mountain spirit (?) to help your found family?, there was only one bed and it had narrative significance, (oh my god it had narrative signigicance), Hurt/Comfort)

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6. #itmf some similar fics to "hidden in the clouds" by karmiya, as in cultivator lan wangji and courtesan wei wuxian 🩷🐇 thank you for the good work!!

Some Things Are Just Fate by Signe_chan (E, 24k, WangXian, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Injury, it's soppy actually I promise, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending)

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7. Hi. For the ITMF I'd like to ask for fics where Wei Wuxian somehow hurts Lan Wangji unintentionally and obviously feels really bad about it (the more angsty, the better) but no WIPs please

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8. Hi there, can I hop on this IITMF series? Because I am in the mood for ✨️royalty wangxian✨️ and I feel like I've read them all (I know I haven't and need help finding some). Preferrably finished, but not a dealbreaker. I especially love ones that have passion through social etiquette, carefully crafted rituals, and words that mean WAY more than what they seem, you know? Sorry if its too much, its a tall order. Thanks also for this awesome account.

practicing our mistakes | End Racism in the OTW by isabilightwood (E, 49k, WangXian, Fairy Tale, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, royalty-adjacent AU, rom com, all the parents live, especially Mama Lan, who needs a divorce, consort competition, lwj does NOT want to participate, fake courting his best friend is the obvious solution, Qīnghéng-jūn's A+ Parenting, matchmaking while mutual pining, wwx is a mostly human-looking demon, Monsterfucking, Submissive LWJ, Dominant WWX, Bondage, (fully consensual), Outdoor Sex, Fluff and Light Angst, wwx's tail expresses his emotions, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX)

Royalty AU Compilation

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9. Hello! As always, thanks so much for all your work, I have found some beautiful works and authors thanks to you ^.^

I need help finding fics where cql! Wangxian meet novel! Wangxian or similar scenarios. I’m so sure I have read some of them but now I can’t find even one! Could you give me a hand please?

I remember enjoying the dynamics of “what do you mean you are/aren’t married!” And I just wanted to re read some :,)

Thanks!! @neko-in-gotham

💙 feel better love by Anonymous (T, 8k, WIP, WangXian, implied WangXianXian, Post-Canon, Crack Treated Somewhat Seriously, in a haha jk...unless? way, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Crack, Crossover)

Key Differences by pupeez4eva (T, 5k, WangXian, Humor, Dimension Travel, Crossover, Drama!WWX meets Novel!WWX, Public Confessions, Post-Canon)

We always get what we deserve!(Doesn't matter even if you think you don't deserve it. Fate has mysterious ways!) by Ajareenlovesbtsandshinee (Not Rated, 16k, WIP, WangXian, Post-Canon, CQL WWX and MDZS WWX Exchange places, Happy Ending, Post-Canon Fix-It)

The Young, the Horny, the Jaded and the Jade: Partners in Time by Admiranda (M, 55k, WIP, WangXian, Established couple, Crossover, road trip with your older selves, teasing your younger selves about their obvious crushes, yin iron does yin iron things, mdzs/cql crossover, adult wangxian, Teenage Wangxian)

not quite the same by M00_Nie (T, 5k, WangXian, Post-Canon Módào Zǔshī Novel, Married WangXian, Established Relationship, Multiverse, WWX in MXY's Body, WWX in WWX's Body, Post-The Untamed (TV), flustered lwj, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WWX being a menace, wangxian being in love, Dorks in Love, Alternate Universes, Fluff, A little bit of angst, WWX Being WWX, WWX is a Panicked Gay Supportive LWJ)

the roots by thelastdboy (E, 30k, wangxian, major character death, graphic depictions of violence, post-canon, post-untamed, MDZS/CQL combination, transmigrator LWJ, dimension travel, time travel, parallel universes, desperation, WWX pov, LWJ pov, heavy angst, mental health issues, giref/mourning, abandonment, depression, suicidal thoughts, hurt/comfort, getting together, rogue cultivator WWX, WQ lives, found family, cottagegore, it gets worse before it gets better) gotta do some self-promo for #9

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10. Hiii I love your page and I thank you for your hard work in finding us so many fics 😁

For the next ITMF, do you know of any fics about A) JC being brought back as a fierce corpse like WN and this making everything somehow better or B) any good crossover fics of Hualian just taking care of bb WY (or even after he dies) and just WY getting the family and status he deserves? @crazy-gay-killxr

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11. Hello! Thank you for all that you guys do!! <3

I was looking for some fics with wangxian as grandparents

The Boy with the Sunshine Smile by Witch_Nova221 (T, 153k, WangXian, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Post-Canon, Romance, Domestic Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Parenthood, Growing Up) it's not a major plotpoint, but wangxian become grandparents at the end of this story

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12. Hello hello! (＾▽＾) I was wondering if you got any fic were WWX's cultivation doesn't corrupt/actively harm him, like it's not really more dangerous then reguler cultivation, like he knows how to do it safely, something like that? it would also be nice if others learn that and/or WWX explain how it's safe,

Did I Not Explain Why the Sunset Turns Red? By 3988Akasha (E, 110k, wangxian, time travel, canon divergence, Canonical Character Death, Soulmates, Demonic Cultivation, Original Female Character(s), Emotional Constipation, Minor Character Death, Hand Jobs, Sexual Content, Bathing/Washing, Idiots in Love, Poetry, Mild Gore, Anal Sex, Angst, Rimming, Blow Jobs)

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13. ITMF the filthiest spiciest hottest WangXian fic you've ever read.

I Won't Tell If You Won't by anxiousTypist (E, 11k, WangXian, Modern AU, Masturbation, Public Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, but not really, no one sees, Coming In Pants, Wet & Messyish, Mildly Dubious Consent, PWP)

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14. Does anyone know if any TopGun Aus exist? I feel like mdzs would have a field day with this concept. Especially with the volleyball scene. I've read Pacific Rim au that was really good so I'm more or less curious since I see both of these movies in the same category. @skylar-lei1634

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15. Hi! So this one is a mix of itmf and ficfinder request, but I remember reading a fic where WWX got pregnant via talisman. Do you know a fic like this? Because I can‘t find it for the love of god, but I want that plot and more of it. Thank you so much! @desperation-is-my-middle-name (also in a previous FF post)

with arms wide open by violia (M, 4k, WangXian, Character Entering Into M/M Marriage Invents Mpreg In Hopes Of Pleasing Their Spouse With An Heir, Fluff, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Slight Misunderstandings, secret reveal)

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16. any fics where wwx comes back to life and lwj doesnt recognize him but falls in love "again"? @chellsky

Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX) this one that i recently recced

By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal)

Tumblr series Lady Mo by Shanastoryteller is ongoing. Here's a link to the latest one because it has links to ask the previous installments so far, but definitely recommend reading in order so start with the first one.

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17. Hello, for the next ITMF(In the mood for), I’m looking for wangxian mpreg fanfictions with scenes of childbirth in. Preferably with Wei Wuxian being the pregnant partner.

Thank you for your work and i hope you have a great day.

Blood, Google, and Love by Prairie_Grass (E, 4k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, they were roommates, A/B/O Dynamics, Getting Together, Mpreg, semi graphic giving birth, Alpha LWJ, Omega wwx, Intersex Omegas, (or you could head-canon WWX as trans if you wanted), Fluff and Angst, the run-on sentences are on-purpose because WWX and LWJ are both:, neurodiverse characters, slightly traumatic birth)

Surprise Baby! by trulywicked (M, 10k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Didn't know he was pregnant, birthing scene, Little bit of blood, A/B/O Dynamics, Inspired by Twitter, Established Relationship, Fluff)

On The Way Home by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 59k, wangxian, Modern, Mpreg, Non-a/b/o mpreg, Unprotected Sex, Unexpected Pregnancy, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Pining while fucking)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***