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aseaofyoongi · 1 year

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my heart did | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: e2l | bully romance | smut | angst

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: as soon as senior years comes to an end a lot of teens shed who we were and strive to be flourish into a more polished version of themselves. although, broken hearts aren’t so quick to heal what happens when thoughts reveal all we need to know?

warnings: lets begin.. themes and mentions of bullying; brief physical violence; brief mention of blood; bickering; denial of feelings; mention of less than ideal parents; cliche high school themes (in flashbacks); foul language; oral (m. receiving); penetrative and unprotected sex; clitoral stimulation; nipple play; thigh riding; vag fingering; overstimulation; sub!jjk themes - he is a good boy; he uh.. arrives on her face.. anyways; i hate this trope ugh but miscommunication; jjk has a big d!; not edited.

word count: 25,5 thousand words

posted: wed sept. 6, 2023 at 12:28PM

notable songs: like i want you - giveon | thinkin bout you - frank ocean | like or like like - miniature tiger | war of hearts - ruelle | sunday morning - maroon5 🎧

The sun is now setting.

Behind you as the last hours of the late summer evening approached the sun was beginning to finally pucker its lips against the horizon, as a result, the sky became dusted with hints of deep orange, yellow and purple. The clock finally struck nine o’clock and you couldn’t help but slump down on the palms of your hands, sitting behind the main desk on the same stool you had been since the beginning of your shift. Your pupils followed as the little hands on the clock hung on the opposite wall seemed to move slower and slower, completely freezing you in time.

Fucking Mondays.

You sighed. When you had initially signed up for the work study position at the library you thought things would be just a bit different.

For example, you thought being a staff member here would get you free access to course books and materials but that wasn’t the case. Right before you’d been hired, some idiot named Yoongi who worked behind the help desk at the computer lab was caught selling copies of the course materials to multiple students on campus.

Like—right before you were hired and now that privilege had been swiped right off the tip of your fingers the moment your member badge had been printed.

Secondly, time behind that rotating door at the main entrance just stopped. No, more like slammed down on the brakes abruptly the moment you crossed that threshold. There were no warnings or brake lights or even a bright sign to apprise in advance.

Another drawn out sigh escaped your lips.

There was no exaggeration in your boredom, however, besides the ‘promises’ of saving money on school materials vanishing entirely, you still needed the monetary earnings so you hid behind a fabricated smile and immediately accepted the job offer happily.

Well, as happily as you could be.

God, you were jaded. Five after nine. Only five minutes had gone by yet it felt like an eternity.

Your mind was on overdrive yet your body remained stationed in the same exact place—in the same exact position. Not a single tendon transposed and they constricted your muscles in place. You were there sort of glued to the metal surface of the stool but fuck did you wanted to move.

Needed to actually. You needed a sort of mobile stimulation but still you couldn’t seem to get your arms and legs to comply. Not until your focus circled around your extremities and your need to just fucking. . do something.

You crossed your legs to the left, then to the right, then you hung your legs on the wooden bar under the desk to give them a rest from just hanging on your side, then you sat with your legs spread open before realizing you wore a skirt and you quickly pressed your thighs together tightly. Shift after shift you grew more angsty, more impatient, more exasperated with the sluggish speed the hours of the night adopted.

Slowly, you reached into your bag and unwrapped a piece of gum before sticking it in your mouth. You chewed slowly. Seven after nine, only two minutes have gone by since you last looked at the time.

Okay, maybe if you number your chews to the rhythm of each second then time will somehow speed by. Right? You began your countdown backwards from sixty.

You chewed down on the watermelon flavored stick of gum. Sixty.

Again, fifty-nine.

And, again, fifty-eight.

Once more, fifty-seven.

In just a matter of minutes the sky behind you turned pitch black and finally the stars came out to play, they pranced around dancing in the sparkling delight and you couldn’t really help but envy their freedom as they lived without confinement.

“Tell me something. .” You quickly registered that irritating tone, that very familiar and insipid, absolutely annoying and vexing tone. The same one which sent a bubbling shot of acid to course into your bloodstream every time you were faced with the disdain of hearing it, “should I reprint you a copy of the employee manual? Last time I checked skirts above the knee and gum chewing are strictly prohibited in the work place.”

You leaned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in his direction as he stood by the doorframe, “you’re not the supervisor, let alone the manager,” you murmured through gritted teeth, “fuck off.”

He shook his head slowly while clicking his tongue. He was mocking you, the little shit was mocking you, “Not a manager. Just someone who likes to enforce the rules especially comes to you.”

“Rule enforcer?” you scoffed, chewing louder and louder as you chomped down, purposefully smacking your gum in the process, “sounds a lot like you being a little bitch. I guess it’s all just the same to me.”

“Bitch?” he guffawed.

“Yes, that’s what I said,” you challenged.

“Mini skirt, gum chewing, and foul language. You’re really making this so easy for me,” he mocked.

The extent of your interactions were always, always, reduced to this. Just the endless streaks of taunting, the continuity of poking at each other buttons beyond forgiveness, and to top it all of the boiling irritation cooking up in the pit of your stomach.

As far back as you could remember there wasn’t an ounce of amiability in the mixture of your interactions together.

You and him met the summer before the ninth grade. From there on you knew him once classes began. Well ‘knew’ was a very loose term in this situation. The two of you were just teens, fifteen years old to be exact, in the same school, in the same home room, yet from different cliques.

His brown eyes drank you in like he was consuming every inch of your soul—it was invasive, intimidating, and exactly what you deserved. Deep down you were one hundred-percent sure of the fact.

“What?” you barked.

“Just remembering the good old time,” he smirked, “the ones where words remain your preferred and deadliest weapon.”

What transpired from that night was nothing compared to his cold gaze and punctured words.

Faint lights of that night sparkled into memory, years have passed but you remember every detail as if it was just yesterday.

The school bathroom was your least favorite place in the building, it was usually crowded with destined criminals, the stench was horrid and it was the obvious root of every ridiculous rumor to ever be birthed within the walls of Oakwood High School.

You leaned against the white ceramic sink, your back faced the stained plastic mirror as you faced him sitting on top of the toilet tank. He was the personification of trouble, the very synonym of everything you needed to stay away from.

The two of you came from two different worlds.

He was draped and wrapped up in a black hoodie, complemented by dark distressed jeans while his rugged and muddy boots stained found camp on the toilet seat, staining it beyond repair.

“What exactly is it that you need from me?” he asked, his tone wasn’t as stern or deep as you usually heard around the halls. There was a slight stutter; a falter.

“It’s more than one thing,” you exhaled, your eyes flickered between him and the stall just to the right of him, “. .that I need from you.”

He hummed, “go on.”

The sun trickled in through the foggy windows and it embellished very detail, every feature that you had never once before noticed on the boy before you. His eyes were giant orbs almost doe like, his lips were a deep taint of roseate the same one which dusted the apples of his cheeks. There was a certain delicate look behind the dark aura he cemented within himself.

You took paced steps in his direction feeling just a bit dizzy the closer you became.

Perhaps, it was that overbearing piss smell.

Or, perhaps, you just didn’t want to go through with this. You wanted to call this off but there was this fervent exhilaration burning just below your skin—you wanted to continue speaking to him, you wanted to envelop yourself in the softness of his lips.

But this wasn’t right but you couldn’t help the guidance of your feet, until finally you stood right before him.

Up close his eyes were prettier, shinier yet darker and you easily found yourself swimming in them engulfed in vastness simulating the bottomless sea.

He was everything you wanted and everything you needed to stay away from.

Two different people. Two different worlds.

“Are you going to tell me what you need?”

“I think,” your palm landed on his knee for support as you climbed onto the toilet seat taking a seat on his lap, “it’s much better if I show you.”

By now, and by the radicle of his reputation you expected for him to push you right off his life, for him to gargle the disgust in the back of his throat and regurgitate it right back on you. But he didn’t instead his gaze intently followed you every move, he probably already noticed your quivering figure hiding behind your confident facade.

There was no shaking off this nervousness, even but in your mind you reminded yourself that you were you and he was simply him.

“Show me what exactly?” he swallowed, his Adam's bobbed distinctively, “you know this is the first time you’ve ever uttered a single word in my direction.”

“I highly doubt that,” you hid your nervousness behind the security of your confident tone.

“It’s true,” he continued, “I bet you have never even noticed that my locker is directly across from yours.”

“Wait. .” You hooked your bait, hanging it low over his head attempting to reel him in once and for all, “do you spend your time in the halls looking at me?”

“I never said—“

Your palms found their way up to towards the back of his neck and you inched closer to his face vividly detailing the golden tone of his glowing skin.

You never noticed before, he was always an arm’s length away, which was probably your fault to begin with, but he was truly beautiful.

“You did kind of imply it.”

“I don’t think it works that way.”

“Does to me.”

His eyes remained on your lips as you tucked your lower lip under your upper teeth. There was an unreadable expression ignited behind his pupils, something you’ve never seen before, not behind the frigid gaze of your best friends and it certainly wasn’t present in the way your boyfriend looked at you either.

It held the comfort of tenderness and it wrapped you right into his warm embrace.

“You know, you keep averting my question.”

“Remind me, once again,” you smiled softly, “what is it that you wanted to know.”

“What do you want to show me?” you pursed out your lower lip before licking them agonizingly slowly to almost emphasize their plumpness. While coating them in a thin layer of the sheen shininess from your saliva. That put him in a trance, his eyes were locked on you intently. It’s working.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, your lips hovered right over his, the waft of your paced breath fanned one another. His mouth was enveloped with the cool aromatic scent of mint. You liked that a lot—it drew you in.

He froze against the white tiled wall behind him, his eyes were closed and he waited in anticipation of your lips finally meeting his. Instead, you took the liberty of snapping a mental picture. One you knew you would hang in the forefront of your mind for a very very long time, because after today, after the tones of both of your pink lips finally meshed together everything would go to shit.

And it would all be your fault.

“For someone who’s begging to kiss me you sure are taking your sweet time.”

The pads of your fingers brushed against his velvet lips as they spread wide depicting his smile, in turn you’d notice the way that very smile trickled to everyone of his features. From the dimples impaling his honey cheeks to his scrunched up nose and brows scrunched up together.

“I’m not begging,” you objected, laying against his chest—he was broad you could tell even under the dark clothes and he felt firm. All you wanted was to be cocooned in his heated touch.

Even in the scorching summer his warmth is.. a solace. You didn’t mind being consumed by it burning in the flames ignited by his touch.

“I asked. Just curious to know if you would even want to kiss me,” say no, run away, run away from me, you yelled at him in your head.

“Curious?”

You hummed, “So.. Do you wanna?”

“Kiss you?”

You hummed again, “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. It’s just one kiss.”

“Just a kiss?” He asks a lot of questions.

“Okay,” he breathed.

There were many things you forbid yourself from submitting to at the expense of your insatious desires. This included consuming sweets past eight o’clock, drinking any type of soda, and even suppressing anything you’ve ever felt for anyone in return for the validation of others. Deep behind the rhythmic beating of your heart you knew this should’ve also included kissing him. You knew you should’ve backed off, said no, avoided him as if he was something you ran away from.

But you couldn’t help but be guided here by the pure delight of getting to have this for once. You wanted to be selfish and drown in those very desires you didn’t dare act on prior to today. Not under self-induced circumstances instead something you know could hurt him right after you pulled away from his lips.

You were a wretched person but all you think about, all you cared about was the way he inched closer towards you, rapidly closing the gap between the two of you. The only sounds bouncing off the walls were your needy pants and the thump thump which composed a song out of the beats of both of your racing hearts.

His head tilted slightly as he leaned in, his eyes explored every inch of your face taking in every depiction of your features. And no matter how many times you could attempt to hide it—he would know. He could clearly see the birth of the flames rampant behind the tones of your eyes.

He nudged his nose against yours, and your mouths fell together, soft and open. You closed your eyes instantly and they felt heavy, almost as if your eyelids were glued together. Though, you urged to open them, to live in every single second your lips remained connected with his, because you knew this wasn’t likely to happen again. Not after today. Not ever.

You couldn’t help but want to bear witness to the perfectness of your lips dancing against one another.

His mouth was silken, you found yourself melting into his body, into his lips, into his touch. Nobody had ever kissed you with the unspoken one passion he was.

No one. Certainly not your boyfriend.

You allowed yourself to become drunk under his trance and he fed the butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach rapidly.

You wanted to camp in the fondness of that moment forever, and ever. and ever. . .

Vacating the stool you stood by the large windows facing the parking lot behind the library. However, your attention was clutched by the sparkling stars, it was a form of a distraction. You wanted to stop thinking of him, his gaze seizing your figure tracing the outline of your legs, the curves and dips between your hips and waist and finally the sneaky peaks of your collar bones under your crop top.

His eyes were hard to read making it impossible to decipher whether he undressed you or condemned your being.

Though, you knew you deserved the latter.

“Words were never my weapon,” you whispered the fib hoping that you would believe it if you heard it outloud. It didn’t work.

He chuckled, “right. . your lips were the blades that pierced my heart and your words were the bullets that finished me off.”

“Jungkook. .” you trailed off.

“What?” he spat, “can’t handle the truth?”

Fuck, that hurt but you deserved it.

“Jungkook, just shut up.”

But his back was already turned towards you and his eyes no longer scanned you like you were the phrases typed on the pages of his favorite book.

“I’m so. .” you began but you just couldn’t get it out.

“There it is again,” Jungkook shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“That’s not what I meant,” you sighed, collecting your thoughts why did you always manage to say the wrong fucking thing, “I’m just trying to apologize to you for. . everything.”

“Right. . now?” he wore a puzzled expression, his eyes squinted with skepticism. Back in highschool Jungkok was quiet, shy and mysterious. He could’ve easily flown under the radar and lived his life in the seclusion of being a wallflower. But then you happened. You in that bathroom, on his lap with his lips on yours.

Even now, years later, you could still feel their phantom softness on yours.

You played with the loose thread on the hem of your top averting the scrutiny of the judgment in his eyes, “better late than never.”

“You put me through hell and I’m supposed to act as if all is forgiven. Today, because you can no longer live with that guilt?” there was a smirk plastered on his face while traces of venom laced his words.

“That’s not the reason why…”

“Then, why… Why?”

Words failed to roll off the tip of your tongue, and there was a cloud of shame hanging over your head but Jungkook was resentful and cold with his words and you knew that at this point your apology would do nothing to fix what was already broken. Nevertheless, you stood there like a child being scolded because the least you could do was be the receiver of his resentment.

“Are you looking for a shot at self redemption? To feel better about yourself? Or maybe the guilt really is eating you bit by bit. Whatever it may be I don’t forgive you and I never will. You wanna know why? Because unlike others I’m not convinced that people like you can change,” he continued, there was a rampant anger burning in his eyes now, “you look back on our time in high school and feel this sense of. . relief that you were who you were. There is not an ounce of your being that would go back and change things and if we were to turn back time you would still choose to be the viper who could go around injecting your venom into others at free will. I know you just want to leap over that stepping stone and prove to yourself that you have grown-up but you can’t fool me and you will not make an example out of me.”

“That’s not. .” you drifted off, tears swelled behind your eyelids but you blinked them away, “That’s not why I wanted to do Jungkook. .”

“No?” he asked.

“No,” you muttered through gritted teeth, mad at your past self for being a piece of shit, mad at him for not allowing you to speak, mad at life. Everything.

“You want me to forgive you?”

You remained quiet.

“Then, beg.”

“You know what?” You quickly wiped the tear that trickled down your heated cheek, “I actually did mean to apologize but I’m not sure that you actually deserve it anymore.”

They say what comes around goes around and you were certain this was the circle of justice you would forever be looped in the extent of your interactions with Jungkook because, this is pretty much how they always played out. He would never forgive you and you would never be able to form the right words to ease the pain of what you have caused. There wasn’t anything that you could do or say.

Things would always remain this way.

He turned away from you once again, “if I don’t deserve your apology that only proves you don’t deserve my forgiveness.”

You looked at the clock on the opposite wall, it was now finally thirty minutes past nine and you were due to go home. To be embraced by the comfort of your sheets, to bask in their warmth, something less chilling than his frigid words.

Grabbing your bag you slipped past him hoping that you would now stoop to becoming nothing but an insipid wallflower.

Entirely, invisible. That’s all you wanted to be.

Fucking invisible.

Your cloak of invisibility was short lived because as soon as you crossed the threshold to your dorm you were met with a crowded living room. Amongst the faceless features of the random strangers spread out in the tiny space you spotted a similar face belonging to the biggest pain in your ass and roommate adjacent, Hobi.

You trudge through the ocean of bodies, resisting the sway of the waves leading to bump to those in your way, simply wanting to get as far away from whatever this was as soon as possible. When Hobi’s eyes finally met yours you signaled him towards using your pointer finger—quickly, his smile dropped, beads of sweat adorned his temples and his head hung low.

A party on a Monday was… Definitely, Hobiesque.

With paced strides he stumbled towards you following you down the small corridor and into your room. Hobi’s eyes hung low, the buttons on his shirt hung open all the way down to the pit of his stomach, his cheeks were red and puffy, his hair the right amount of disheveled, and he had a tight grasp on a nearly empty red solo cup (it definitely didn’t look like it was his first or last drink). The lights were dimmed but even under the shitty lighting there was a bright glimmer outlining his figure.

“Now, before we begin this intervention,” his words were a bit slurred, “I had a really shitty day.”

“Yeah, that makes two of us,” you hung your bag on the hook behind the door and threw your keys on the desk.

He slumped down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression—you weren’t sure if the shift in his usual energetic charisma was due to the alcohol but you didn’t like it. You were so used to seeing his heart shaped lips spread into wide curves showcasing the amiability of his colorful personality.

“Okay, which one of us should go first?” he asked.

“Don’t you have a party to get back to?” you sat by the pillows on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard, your legs pressed up against your chest as you laid your head on your knees.

“I’ll get back in a minute,” he replied nonchalantly, “just tell me about your day.”

Hobi laid his head closer to your legs, quickly you found your fingers combing through the dark strands with a thin layer of sweat. There was a cool draft slipping in the room through the window left slightly ajar. The bittersweet flashes of your time in that library behind the main desk played back in your mind.

“I saw… spoke to Jungkook tonight,” your voice was soft, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. You and Hobi have been friends since your senior year in school and while he wasn’t there for the horrid days of your freshman year tyranny you confessed to everything you had done during those dark days—everything that happened with Jungkook.

“Spoke?”

You nodded.

“You two have the same work study you’ve spoken to each other before right?”

“Yeah, but our conversations are always reduced to nonsensical banter. He pushes my buttons and I push his, sometimes we even land a few jabs at each other when the other isn’t looking but today,” you felt at ease sitting there in Hobi’s company, the only noise surrounding the two of you came from the booming of the loudspeaker stationed in the living room, “…it was personal.”

“How personal?” he continued peering up at you with idle eyes.

“I tried to apologize for, well you know.. everything,” you sighed, “and things didn’t really go as planned. Stupid of me I know.”

“Definitely, not stupid. You tried to make things right. There’s no harm in that,” his thumb rubbed your hand softly as it wrapped around your shins.

“There was definitely a lot of harm done.”

“You’re right,” he mumbled, “what you did is not justified, but all that matters is that you are trying to make things right and we can only hope he is willing to forgive.”

Jungkook’s vicious words played on a continuous loop in your head. He was not willing to forgive. He never would be and sincerely you couldn’t blame him for him.

This guilt.

It will eat you alive and as a result you will experience a slow and excruciating death. A well deserved demise and one that became written in the stars for you the moment you kissed him in that fucking bathroom.

Still, a timid smile slowly creeped on your lips. Hobi’s hopefulness is your safety net, the only thing you could ever need to keep pushing forward.

“Enough about me and my self-inflicted issues,” you cleared your throat, “what’s got you so down today, sunshine?”

“We broke up.”

You laid beside him on your bed, reaching down taking his hands into yours hoping he’d feel the same deal of comfort you do by him.

“What happened?” you offered.

“I was in my dance practice and he—“ he paused, “he just fucking texted me. Said he couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Did something happen before all of this?”

“We’ve been on a bumpy road lately,” he hesitated before continuing—you guessed it was because he was trying to structure his thoughts, “two dancers dating bring a conflict of interest into a relationship.”

“Please tell me you guys aren’t just fighting over your choreography.”

He remained silent before continuing.

“You two are going to send me into cardiac arrest,” you shook your head, “I need details, Jung.”

“Don’t call me, Jung,” Hobi poked out his lower lip, frowning, “makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”

“I can’t be mad at you when you’re so adorably tipsy,” you pinched his rosey cheeks.

“Stoooop,” he swatted your hand away from his face while stretching out the letter ‘O,’ “I’m being serious though. I think it’s really over between Jimin and I, forreal this time.”

“You’ve said that every other time the two of you have broken up over dance.”

“Right. .” he yawned, cozying up under your sheets while his eyes began to close.

“Oh, no,” you smacked him upside the head with one of your cushions, “get up and go host your little party.”

He brushed it off turning before turning away from you, his soft snores now a remix to the music playing just outside of your door, “who the fuck throws a party on a Monday. . Hoseok, get up!”

“I know, you’re so irresponsible for letting me throw a party on a weekday.”

“Bitch.”

As it turns out, kicking people an hour after a party had started wasn’t as easy as it looked. Leaning against the front door you finally came face to face with the mess left behind. The music still played, though, much lower now and there was an array of empty beer cans, red solo cups and other waste decorating your living room.

It was as if you were standing in front of the mirror looking back at yourself, you were nothing but a mess of a human being. It was uncanny.

Although, this mess you could clean, and you would, you weren’t sure if Jungkook would ever allow you to pick up all of those broken pieces that you had shattered all of those years ago.

For what it’s worth you really wanted to try. You wanted to make things right.

It is now Tuesday and the weather is horrid.

The last time you checked, the forecast called for scattered showers and mostly cloudy days. But, now it’s one in the afternoon and as you settle down on the bench by your bay window overlooking the narrow street, the sky was overtaken by the torrent clouds weeping viciously accompanied by the occasional strikes of loud thunder.

Usually, when the weather looked as shitty as you felt you opted for staying home and becoming enveloped in the comfort and warmth of your sheets, today would have been no different but of course luck is never present in the deck of cards paving your life, also having an irresponsible roommate usually doesn’t help in any way.

“Please, don’t forget my ginger ale,” he coughed dramatically, running his hand through his disheveled hair, “I can’t believe I feel like literal shit.”

“You can’t believe it?” You sneered, “you drank half of your alcohol supply before I even made it home and the party had only been on for like thirty minutes.”

“Fuck, I did that. Didn’t I?”

“You did,” you playfully yanked your covers off his body, “you drunk fuck.”

“That was my nickname in highschool,” he smiled.

“It was,” you zipped up your rain jacket and grabbed the umbrella sitting on your desk, “now go take a hot bath and don’t throw any more parties while I’m gone.”

You heard his infectious giggles as you closed the front door behind you. The two of you lived on the third floor so the walk down the stairs to the lobby wasn’t too unbearable. Through the clear doors of the main entrance in the rain you saw how the downpour fogged up the path ahead. Namseok’s Kitchen is only a five minute walk, you can do this.

Walking out you opened your umbrella and stood still for just one minute paralized by the pitter patter of the droplets meeting your umbrella.

It was the beat to a dreadful song you knew too well.

You pushed past the blue metal doors of the gymnasium. Your nostrils are no longer consumed by the smell of sweat and dirty laundry and the muffled conjunction of laughter, voices, bouncing balls, and whistles died out the minute the door closed behind you.

Gym class was a drag and there was truly nothing worse than an hour long class period with sweaty kids in such a tiny space. Usually, you opted for walking on the track for the duration of class but that option became futile the moment it began to pour an hour ago.

In fact it was still raining, but you stood under the navy awning covering you from becoming soaked. Your eyes are closed and you lean against the red brick wall inhaling the scent of petrichor, the resulting smell of the parched earth just as the pouring rain continues to beat anything standing right below it. The sweet aromas seeped into the air sweeping past your nose with the soft breeze that blew by.

It was as if the earth had exhaled, emanating its distinct fragrance from millions of pinpoints all at once. Inside that smell, the seconds slowed and each moment seemed to dilute. It filled you with relief.

Then, suddenly the remnants of your heaven became blurred and the walls holding up the roofs began to tumble down and with it a whiff of nicotine became tangled in your nose.

Your eyes shot open and there he was, Jungkook. The boy you’d kissed a week ago in the boy’s bathroom.

“Cigarettes are bad for you, you know..” You felt a knot in the pit of your stomach as soon as he turned. You heard what happened to him but you hadn’t gotten around to seeing him yet, you’d been avoiding him.

“Yeah, I keep thinking I’ll quit and I can’t seem to make it past a couple of hours,” he was honest and he smiled, two characteristics you thought had died the moment your boyfriend’s fist met his face. He still had a soft purple bruise under his eye to prove it.

“You need something else to get your mind off of it.”

He threw the butt of the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to put it out and leaned right beside you on the wall. Up close you saw a deep gash on the apples of his cheek, it was still red but stitched up.

“I know.”

“Are you really littering right now?” You eyed the discarded smoke under the tip of his chunky combat boots.

“Right, sorry miss president of ‘i love earth’ or whatever,” he bent over, picking it up and placing it in the pocket of black jeans, similar to the ones he wore that day minus the rips around the thighs.

“It’s actually called, ‘advocates for planet earth’ for your information.”

“I love earth sounds better,” he shrugged, “should consider the name change.”

“I’ll bring it up in our next meeting.”

“I’m surprised,” Jungkook began, his eyebrows furrowed together and you could tell he was in a mental battle to continue, “that he lets you join cute little nerdy clubs.”

Twenty minutes before you entered the boys bathroom last Thursday, you and your friends sat in the library during study hall, your homework long forgotten and with continued complaints of loud talking all of you had settled for a game of quiet dare or die.

The set-up was easy.

There were two piles out in-front of you, one die, one dare. The object of the game created by your friends was to choose a dare and record yourself completing it before the end of the school day or else you’d have to do something even more embarrassing from the die pile.

Your dare was to graffiti the side of the school. A bit excessive, compared to the other ones which only called for kissing each other, going against school dress code for the rest of the day or skipping the last period.

Ditching the crumpled up paper you chose a die deciding that whatever it was at least it probably wouldn’t come at the expense of being expelled.

‘Kiss Jeon Jungkook (loser)’ it read.

You could’ve said no but you didn’t. Instead you fed into the taunts of the very boy you’d find your eyes lingering after. The same boy who occupied your thoughts day and night, the same one who kissed you like no one else has and whose touch (though, brief)—permanently marked a trail of goosebumps only he could procure.

“He doesn’t control me, Jungkook.”

“He doesn’t,” Jungkook nodded, registering every gravity of your words which felt heavy on his tongue. If your boyfriend didn’t control you then that meant you had also dealt a hand at the countinuously fucked-up encounters between him and your boyfriend. But this also finally cemented the idea that you had kissed him willingly; you saw it in the way his eyes sparkled even when the sun had been hibernating for the duration of the day.

He seemed to have finally realized that both of those could be true. That love and pain could dance together hand in hand when it came to the two of you.

Your eyes scanned his chocolate ones, slowly reaching up using the pads of your finger to caress his cheek. They were full and warm and you were careful not to inch too close to the purple and green-ish spot under his eye.

“Will you believe me if I tell you something?”

“Tell me.”

“I really did enjoy that day.” You clarified, “our kiss despite what I said afterwards.”

He chuckled, “hopefully saying me too doesn’t get me another black eye.”

The tightness in your chest squeezed tighter and immediately you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When Jungkook was around you felt as if your heart and mind collided against each other and you were left in a daze, castaway in your own body and mind. Like, right now, your brain urged you to walk away and get as far away as possible from him but your heart called out to him and down that same path it set out a route leading to his silken lips.

Your heart beat to a deep crescendo nearly synching to the sound of the beating rain against the awning just overhead.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to class?”

Snapping out of your daydream you replied, “uh, yeah, I should get back.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you around.”

Jungkook smiled, “I’ll see you around.”

The hefty winds blew your umbrella yet you remained in the same exact spot just a couple of feet away from the entrance to the dorm building. You were drenched from head to toe causing your gray sweats and hoodie to stick to you all while they weighed you down. Although you were inclined to move away from the droplets adorning your figure, your legs just would not submit to the command.

The smell, the dark skies, and the feeling of the rain on your skin all ignited a sense of familiarity, contentment yet melancholiness.

There were too many feelings jumbled into one.

“If you stand here, like this, you’ll end up sick.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed until the moment his voice overshadowed the roaring screams of the pouring rain. Jungkook’s outfit mimicked yours slightly but even you could admit he looked much better than you. He wore gray sweats and a gray hoodie draped off his shoulder over a white wife beater. His tattoos peeked through outlining the beginning of the sleeve following the length of his extremity down to his fingers.

He’s breathtaking, he’s always been.

“I wasn’t aware that my well-being was any of your concern.”

Jungkook combed his slender digits through his jet black hair inching closer to you until his umbrella covered the both of you, “it doesn’t,” he said, “ I just figured you were either drunk or too much of an idiot to be out in this storm.”

“Well, in that case that makes us two idiots standing out in this weather.”

“I was not out. I’m not crazy,” he cleared his throat, “I just so happen to see you through my dorm window.”

He came down for you, “yet here you are now.”

“Need I remind you, if I wasn’t, you’d still be out here getting soaked.”

“Soaked,” you snickered.

“Grow up,” his voice was laced with annoyance but the rose tint on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know.

“Where did my umbrella even go?”

He pointed to your feet where your Converse swam in a puddle and there was your unbrella was looking as fucked up as ever. Immediately, you made a mental note to never buy umbrellas at the dollar store ever again. You supposed that’s the only thing you were good at; making one wrong decision after the other.

You huffed, “ah, I’m okay. It’s okay, I got it from here.”

“Were you going somewhere?”

“You don’t have to help me, Jungkook,” you didn’t dare look at him because Jungkook was good at one thing, it was peeling back at your layers with his piercing eyes. He made you feel vulnerable—bare. And you always feared the psychedelic enchantment wiring in your brain whenever he looked in your direction.

Back then that was your excuse for not helping him, for not being a better human being. It was a shitty excuse, you know that now but you always feared your willingness to succumb to your hearts’ cries.

You feared falling into him—falling for him.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” He laughed, “just lead the way. I have nothing better to do anyway.”

“I was just going down the street to Namseok’s Kitchen to get Hobi some chicken noodle soup. He isn’t feeling too well this morning.”

“That’s only a five minute walk,” he nodded toward the path ahead, “Let’s go.”

Five minutes felt like an eternity as the two of you walked towards your destination in utter silence. The street was pretty empty—only Jungkook, yourself and the rain remained. . And your thoughts, of course. They ran at record speed as you tried to relive every single moment from your past, you know; divulging in all the good times and wanting to fix every fucked up thing you’ve ever done.

If only you could turn back time you’d make things right.

In an attempt to skip another puddle, to prevent your socks from becoming sodden you accidentally moved closer to Jungkook and your elbow brushed against his. The feeling wasn’t foreign to you and it transported you to those nights, all of those moment when your bodies were so close you could smell the soap he’d used that morning, cardamom and vanilla, the scent still lingered around in your nose and you wondered if you were just hallucinating or if he actually still used the same soap.

“While you order I’ll get us something hot,” he walked you to the glass door of the small diner, then turned towards the coffee shop across the street.

“Jungkook!” You called out and he looked back in your direction, “Hold on,” you dug in your pocket reaching for a ten dollar bill, “Here.”

“Just worry about the soup and get one for yourself. Your body will thank you tomorrow morning,” he shouted back.

He disappeared into the shop as cars sped by in his shadow. You almost didn’t believe he was just right there. With you. Was he?

The bell on top of the door chimed as you walked into the restaurant, the squishing sound of your drenched shoes against the white tile bounced off of the baby blue walls. As you walked closer to the counter you wrapped yourself in a tight embrace to provide yourself with some warmth against the blasted AC. The place has always been light on decoration and made to feel more homey than anything else. There was a faux wall with photographs of customers hanging from loose thread, next to that there was a small circular table where the polaroid and its film was stationed. The remaining walls held all sorts of artworks in different shades of azure from Seokjin’s boyfriend, and Hobi’s brother, Namjoon. Towards the front was your favorite place, a bench stationed in-front of the floor to ceiling glass window.

Namjoon approached the register, “oh no, what the fuck did he do now?”

“He threw a party and woke up sick as fuck. I was just coming to get him some soup. He’s said he would puke anything else.”

“And that little shit made you walk?” Seokjin walked up behind Joon taking a seat on the stool beside him. “Look at you…” he motioned towards you and you took a look at yourself in the circular mirror hung behind the two guys, a fucking mess, “you’re all wet. Did he make you come here alone?”

Before you even had the chance to answer Jinnie continued, “I’m going to kill him. You hear me?” He turned towards his boyfriend, “I am going to kill your brother.”

Joon mumbled, “I might just join you.”

“Before your two go on a killing spree…” you leaned against the wooden surface of the counter, “I kind of offered because I felt bad for his dumbass.”

“He still let you come all the way down here in this weather and that is enough to plan a crime,” Seokjin hissed, “Joonie will you get her a towel from the back?”

Joon disappeared behind the beaded curtain.

“Okay, so one soup for the idiot and one for you?”

You nodded, “yes, chicken noodle soup please. Can you make that three though?”

“Who’s the third one for?” He raised an eyebrow staring you down like you had an intimate secret you were keeping from him. Well, technically, you were keeping some things to yourself but you weren’t lying just withholding the truth. It wasn’t the same thing.

“It’s for the person who accompanied me here today.”

“And who is that?” Joon asked, they were both overprotective, like older brothers, “you only have one friend and unfortunately I am related to him.”

“Not a friend. . Just someone I know.”

They hummed in unison exchanging suspecting looks between one another. Then, the bell on top of the door chimed once again, the same way it did when you walked in. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, his scent gave him away immediately.

“Hi, welcome to Namseok’s kitchen,” Jin greeted him.

“Hey,” he walked deeper into the restaurant until he finally stood right next to you as you continued drying off, “here. I got us lemongrass tea. I didn’t know what you like so I figured I get you the same as me.”

Grabbing the to-go cup from his hand, you reply, “yeah, I like lemongrass tea.”

You took a sip, basking in the heat of the piping hot liquid as it traveled down your throat and into your tummy. A tired whimper escaped your lips, as you became entirely immersed in the flavors of the lemony taste exploding on your tongue. There was silence around you but you could feel three sets of eyes on you and instantaneously your eyes shot open.

“I almost forgot Jin, Joon, this is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Jin and Joon, Hobi’s brother and brother in law.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Jinnie smiled in his direction and Joon followed suit, “Jungkook..” He repeated, “why does your name sound so familiar?”

“I went to highschool with Hobi and..” he pointed at you, avoiding even the utterances of your name. There was no disgust lingering in his face but then again his expression was unreadable and you were sure he was masking his true feelings at the expense of the two men in front of you.

“I knew it,” he clasped his hands together but as soon as you saw the thoughts wiring in his head and connecting together you shook your head to prevent him from continuing. Thankfully, he understood immediately, “yeah, I thought I had seen you before.”

Jungkook also connected the dots because Jin hadn’t been in high school at the same time he was. Jinnie was three years older than you guys were and by the time he and Hobi had moved into town Seokjin had already graduated. But he was now aware that you had mentioned him in passing—now he knew that you had to have mentioned something about that time.

“I’m going to go check on those soups,” Jin announced walking back towards the kitchen, “Joon, come on join me.”

You walked past Jungkook with the brown cup held tightly in your grasp before taking a seat on the bench by the front window. The storm still ran rampant outside and the streets remained barren. Jungkook sat two tables down, near the wall, far away from you.

“Do I owe you anything for the tea?” You mumbled holding up the cup in his direction.

“I told you to not worry about it..”

“I didn’t know Seokjin would bring that up,” you didn’t look at him, eyes lulled by your dusty white converse, “I didn’t know he would remember you.”

“Just forget about it,” he shook his head, “you don’t need to explain.”

“No, I feel like I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Jungkook, please let me,” your eyes watered and your voice faltered.

He sighed, taking a small sip of the tea before continuing, “please don’t explain. I don’t need an explanation. I have buried it all, it still lives in my head but it’s buried and I don’t need to resurrect the tsunami of emotions that comes along with that..” he pointed at his temples, “it’s still here but please do not awaken them. I don’t want to brush the brush off of those memories.”

You two were the only people in the shop but you knew Joon and Jin were behind one of the walls eavesdropping. It was silent and the only noise in the small space was the whirring of the AC.

“Are our good memories also buried somewhere?” You knew better than to ask but you needed to know.

“I put those to rest first,” he admitted and your heart sank, “those memories, although good, were an incitement to everything else that lingered right behind. I had to get rid of those memories to get rid of everything else.”

“Okay,” tears were beginning to swell up in the corners of your eyes and you tried your best to blink them away, “yeah, that’s okay. I understand why you had to do that.”

“I’m sorr—” Jungkook began.

“Don’t, please, you’re not the one who should be apologizing to me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you do that.”

The bell at the front desk chimed, ripping your attention away from Jungkook. Seokjin stood behind the counter holding two paper bags, “order’s up.”

Walking up you thanked him and grabbed the bags, “thanks. I’ll have Hobi venmo you for this.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” he smiled softly, “free lunches till you guys graduate remember. That goes for you too now, Jungkook.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he handed him the smaller bag, “I mean it. I better see you around here more often.”

“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen him wear in years. It was radiant and lit up his face with warmth. The indents on his cheek were deep and they framed his rose lips like they were a work of art. Not even the silver hoop piercing his bottom lip shone as brightly as he did when he smiled. You almost forgot how good it looked on him and you couldn’t help but stand there and admire him taking mental pictures to keep forever.

He deserves someone better. Someone who’s going to make him smile like that until the end of time. Someone who wasn’t you.

“And thank you for coming along with her since Hobi couldn’t.”

“It’s no problem.”

“I would offer you guys a ride back home but Jin and I walked to work today. Guess we didn’t really think things through either.”

“It’s okay, Joon,” you zipped up your rain coat and pulled the hood over your head, “it’s only a five minute walk back.”

After thanking Jin and Joon, the two of you exited the store and cut in through the alley way before landing on the road leading back to the dorms. Once again, the two of you stood dangerously close to one another radiating off each other’s body heat and before you knew it the building came into view and Jungkook led you up the walkway leading you to the main door. You didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want him to leave you but it’s not like you could actually say that.

You were a mere burden jumbled into bad memories and the worst years of his life.

“Thank you for coming along,” you pushed the thoughts although you don’t think you could ever really get rid of them.

“No thanks needed. I couldn’t let you take the trip on your own, especially not in this weather.”

He couldn’t let you. Your heart began to race as you tried to keep yourself from reading too much into his words. They probably didn’t mean anything… But what if he still cared? What if Jungkook still cared about you?

“See you around.” He nodded before heading off in the direction of his dorm.

I shouldn’t have said anything.

You turned around, but Jungkook was no longer near. His back was turned in your direction as he continued trotting down the sidewalk. Great! Now you’re hearing voices, after reaching for the metal door handle the voices reappeared.

Our memories are flavored in bitterness but I still can’t get her off my mind.

Jungkook was gone.

The thing about rumors is that they spread like wildfires and no matter how hard you work to extinguish that fire it is always too little too late. That’s how you felt as soon as you crossed the threshold from the bathroom and into the congested hallways. Everyones prying eyes read you so intently condemning you for the hypocrisy of allowing someone like Jungkook to permanently ink his lips on yours. The passionate dance the two of you composed left behind the imprints of his lips as he tattooed your skin with each one of the pecks he left behind.

Your phone buzzed in the back pocket of your jeans. You pulled it out, unlocking it, quickly seeing the photo your friend had snuck of you on his lap pop up. Your mouths devour one another and your bodies pressed together closely while your hand rests on his shoulder.

You wanted to frame it—live in the pixels of that picture forever.

‘Death complete bitch.’ Your best friend’s text read below the photo, ‘I can’t believe you actually kissed him.’

‘I can’t believe I did it either.”

‘What was it like?’

The worst part about it is that it had to come to an end. Your mind traveled an hour back and you recall the velvet feel of his lips as they moved against yours mimicking the softness of clouds. At the sametime his tongue was saccharine tasting of the sweetness of strawberries and maple syrup leading you to guess he had either waffles or pancakes for breakfast that morning.

All you wanted was to run back into that bathroom.

‘Nothing memorable. Just glad it’s over.’

‘Don’t worry you won’t ever have to kiss him again.’

Yeah, that was the fucking problem. You wanted to kiss him again, preferably you wanted to kiss him forever.

‘Yeah, thankfully.’

You didn’t know when that kill switch that made you a complete and utter bitch was flipped on, but all you remember were those calamitous days when you didn’t really know who you were and who you were meant to be. Those days were marked with pen squiggles, they were blurred and you chose to permanently turn the light off and lock the door behind you in that section of your brain.

Middle school was rough to say the least. But that was the beginning of your novel and you knew perfectly well who you were now.

You had the friends you did because they made you look good, you had the clothes you did because you had a reputation to uphold and you had the boyfriend you did because someone like you is supposed to be with someone like him. Those were the simple unspoken rules of high school and at first they were easy to follow until they weren’t.

Everything was simple until that summer before freshman year. The day you visited the park near your house and you spotted him, with his chunky black boots and signature black outfit matching his jet black hair. The two of you were only fifteen then but he already had a tattoo on his wrist peeking out of the sleeve of his crewneck, back then he didn’t have his lip piercing—not yet at least.

“I thought you only hung out in abandoned buildings and sketchy alley ways,” you remembered telling him that and the two of you spent hours on those swings talking the afternoon away. Back then, you learned Jungkook was a gentle giant disguised in an intimidating disguise. He was thoughtful in the way he looked at life and dreamt about the future, he was caring in the way that he spoke about nature, tattoos, music and everything else he held a deep passion for and lastly, he was attentive in the way he listened to you thoroughly drinking in every detail you had shared.

That was the Jungkook that made you fall for him in the blink of an eye but back then you didn’t know who he was and you were certainly not made aware of how things would end up.

The bell dismissing you from your last period class snapped you right out of your thoughts and you dashed out the door of the classroom wanting nothing more than to escape home and be left alone to bask in your thoughts.

“There’s a fight outside!” a few students called out running past you.

“Let’s go!” someone else yelled across the hallway.

You were nervous to ask but you did anyway, “fight? Who’s fighting?”

“Your boyfriend’s fighting someone,” a girl you didn’t quite recognize replied, “Jungkook, or something like that I think.”

By the time you made it to the parking lot there was already a crowd of people forming a circle around both boys. Jungkook held his bloody nose while your boyfriend clenched and unclenched his hand, likely to relieve the pain of hitting Jungkook. You ran in their direction but as you neared them you saw as the boy you called yours landed another punch on Jungkook’s face causing him to fall back on the concrete.

He didn’t fight back, didn’t even respond to the other boy’s insult. He just sat on the ground holding his face waiting for it all to be over.

“Hey,” you finally reached him, shoving him back to prevent another callous attack on the boy behind you, “what the fuck are you doing?”

“I saw the fucking picture,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“The girls and I played a game of dare or death,” you explained, “it was only part of the death I had to complete. It didn’t mean anything.”

He lunged towards you and poked at your chest, “you still kissed him.”

The crowd went silent and your boyfriend’s anger highlighted the very thing you’d intended to place under lock and key—your pretty little secret no longer a secret or even pretty for that matter. You felt light headed and you weren’t sure if it was the punishing rays of the sun or the mental strain this was all causing.

You didn’t regret that kiss; you never would but you also thought that picture would stay between you and your friends.

A wave of murmurs swayed all around you and you knew your reputation was descending by the second.

You didn’t dare look at Jungkook, you knew his hypnotizing dark eyes would make you crumble. Seeing him like that. . The way he did all helpless and unprotected would compel you to care for him and cradle him in your arms until nothing or no one else could hurt him, “It meant nothing. Okay?” You heaved, “It meant nothing.”

Instead, you were dragged away from the boy your heart screamed out for.

Fuck, do I still like her?

Just shut up, Jungkook. It’s too early for this.

I shouldn’t be asking myself that. Ever.

Presently, you’ve gotten to know Jungkook for being reserved and fairly quiet, similar to how he was in high school except back then he actually spoke to you. But now, he is quiet and he doesn’t bother uttering a single word in your direction. The only times he ever addresses you is when he throws continuous jabs at you, landing every single one—he spews spiteful words of retaliation as a result of the shitty person were years ago and although you knew it was well-deserved that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Unlike his recently reserved outer shell, you quickly learned Jungkook’s mind traveled at the speed of light and for two days now, you could hear the constant battles of thoughts breaking out in his head.

Words crashed against each other; phrases were left abandoned half way through and ideas were left unfulfilled.

You groaned smacking your silk pillow over your face, your mind was exhausted on overdrive and increasingly overheating all because Jungkook couldn’t ease his thoughts and empty his mind at five in the fucking morning. Who. . Thinks this much at such ungodly hours of the morning, the sun isn’t even up yet.

The scattered clouds invaded the dark blue sky dusted in shades of purple.

Does she think of me?

I do.

Did she ever feel what I felt when we kissed?

I did—I do. I still feel it. Similar to how the sun feels on you on a hot summer day, the sparks on their ignited route as they traveled through every single inch of your skin setting it alight even today. You felt it then and you could feel it now.

Finally, his thoughts ceased and you guessed he’d probably drifted off into a slumber. He probably looked so peaceful you thought, grabbing one of your extra cushions, laid on your side and placed it in between your legs like a mommy pillow. Sleep came knocking on your door and your eyes began to feel heavy.

Jungkook probably looked like an angel as he slept. You could picture him laying in a sea of his messy sheets against his golden tone.

By the time you woke up once again, it was nine in the morning and the sun peeking in through the windows ripped you right out of your sleep.

Your room door burst open, “hey! I knew you’d be awake. What do you have planned for the day?” Hobi took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“Whatever happened to knocking? I could’ve been naked you know..”

“We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

“Fair enough,” you laid facing the ceiling, “I wasn’t going to do much today just going to check Mr. Kim’s list. He posted it on the bulletin outside his class for our upcoming project.”

“Do you want me to make you something to eat before I go?”

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be in the dance studio. You wanna come see me later?” His heart-shaped lips did very little to cover his pearly whites as he grinned, “I’ll give the front desk your name so they can let you up when you get there.”

“Please, don’t forget like last time or I’ll have to fight someone for real this time,” you said.

“Won’t,” he called out as he strutted towards the front door, “I promise. See you later.” You heard the door open and shut before you began falling asleep once again but the peace and quiet was very short lived because you heard him again.

What did I even dream about?

You wondered the same. Was he the type to dream up cute scenarios in that pretty head of his as he drifted off for the night? Did your face invade his mind in the late hours of the night? You hope you did.

Your name echoed in the basis of his mind followed by the emission of thunderous groans.

He seemed. . frustrated.

Ah, fuck. Yes, Jungkook just imagine it’s her.

The image in your head was impure as soon as you finally realized what Jungkook was actually doing. You’d imagined his hand disappearing under the base of the pyramid forming through his duvet. Stroking himself slowly, his head lolled back against his headboard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, while his eyes fluttered closed as his eyelashes batting away all reminders of reality.

I want her touch—need it. So bad.

You’d become too enthralled in the symphony of Jungkook’s whimpers that you hadn’t really noticed the death grip you had on your bed sheets as your knuckles turned white and the way your legs rubbed against each other in a desperate plea for some friction.

This was private. Jungkook needed privacy and while your mind opened a portal which prevented that, the best thing you could do was ignore him and the sensual persuasion laced in his bedroom voice, no matter how desperately he called out for you, it wasn’t right.

Ignore.

God, I would fuck her so good.

Think of something else.

With my cock buried deep inside of her. Fucking her into my mattress until she’s shaking with the overbearing stimulation of pleasure. Until, even her own name becomes a mere afterthought.

You grabbed your phone from the night stand but your lame attempt at a ‘distraction’ was useless. His words were addictive and you were already soaked right through your panties. Your sheets began sticking to your sweaty skin while Jungkook’s ardent words continued heating you up.

She would take me so well. Fuck!

A shower! That’s what you’d do—just take a cold cold shower to ease those thoughts and shut him out until he finally finishes.

You hissed as the hard pressure of frigid water hit your body from the shower head, even this wasn’t enough to mask the way your body shuddered as Jungkook continued. It was even more enticing that after everything—after his hostile gazes and cold words your face was in the forefront of his brain as he touched himself.

His alluring thoughts kept on playing one after the other and your cunt became the victim crying out to him with patterned pleas he would never hear. Your juices strolled down your inner thigh mixed in with the streaks of water and you could no longer bear the desperate thumps of aching cunt. You were going mad, honestly his stamina and self control were all to blame. The combination was torturous.

While you weren’t one hundred-percent sure of what he was doing the way his thoughts became sporadic weathering winds of pleasure and then tranquility. It was a cycle, he would be on the verge of succumbing to his peak and then all of the sudden he would stop. Before beginning once again and again and again.

The viciousness of his desire lasted until right around the time you turned the shower off and you couldn’t tell if for the past twenty minutes you had been in your own personal heaven or hell.

I hate how much I still want her.

I hate that I can’t have her.

You can have me, Jungkook. You can have me now, tomorrow and forever.

The heat was overbearing and you could feel the way your tank became soaked with sweat and the thin fabric stuck to your body. You heaved as you pushed open the glass door into the English building. Mr. Kim’s room was on the third floor and the bulletin board was stationed right next to his door. After opting out of climbing three flights of stairs you ride the elevator up and exit out to look at the posted partners for Mr. Kim’s upcoming project. Walking down the main hall you turn left and there it is—there he is.

The simplicity of his outfit was composed of a plain white tee, gray sweat shorts, and over the ankle white socks tucked into black slides. The colorful ink adorning his skin still peaked under the sleeve of his shirt, his black wavy hair rested on the nape of his neck.

The hallways were completely empty and his back still faced you so you kind of just stood there unsure of what to say or do. I mean you’d heard him masturbating just a few hours ago and while you truly did not mind even the slightest you weren’t quite sure how to even interact with him moving forward. While he seemed to despise you for the events that unfolded back in high school this morning was a complete change of events. His voice was dipped in sex as he moaned your name until he finally came.

God, why was it so hot in here? Is the AC really off mid-summertime?

“Hey,” his doe eyes stared at you, studying your off-putting exterior. Your eyes were blown wide, your tank was still soaked with sweat and you just stood there ogling him, “are you okay?”

He stepped towards you with worrisome eyes. ‘Oh yes Jungkook, I’m okay. I’m just picturing the way your hand climbs up and down the length of your dick, head tilted back, mouth slightly opened as groans form at the root of your throat. You know, the way you probably looked this morning.’

Instead you decided on a soft, “I’m okay.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he placed his hand on your shoulder and you nearly fainted at the intense heat emitted from his skin to yours, “here, sit down,” he guided you to one of the lounge chairs sat opposite Mr. Kim’s class, “have you drank anything today?”

How could you kindly explain that was not the kind of thirst you were looking to quench.

“No. .” you shook your head.

“Okay, okay,” he grabbed a water bottle from the black backpack sitting at his feet. You hadn’t even noticed it before, you had been so focused on him the entire time, “here drink some.”

The bottle was half empty meaning his lips were on it and now your lips would be on it too. This wasn’t really what you meant when you said you wanted to feel his lips on yours but you didn’t really mind either.

“Yeah, sorry, I got thirsty on the way here,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I can get you one from the vending machine.”

You must’ve been looking at the bottle resting in his grasp like an idiot, “no, it’s okay Jungkook,” you rested your palm on top of his hand, “it’s not like we haven’t kissed before right?”

His eyes turned a shade darker than their usual brown and he cleared his throat, letting go of the water bottle right into your grip, “right.” he stepped back as if you were a cactus ready to nick him with one of your spines, “I was looking at the list for Mr. Kim’s class and we are partnered together with Jimin for the project.”

“Okay, should we meet at my place tonight or tomorrow? This is due this Monday,” you took a sip of the water tasting the remnants of Jungkook’s strawberry chapstick left behind on the rim.

“I have a basketball tournament due tonight but we can meet tomorrow if you’d like.”

“Tomorrow,” you repeated, “any time?”

“After four?”

“See you then.”

For the first time in forever Hoseok had actually left your name at the front desk of the studio on campus. After being left up you walked in through the double doors of the dance studio where the music blasted at highest volume and your best friend’s shoes squeaked against the shiny wooden floor as he moved throughout the room swiftly executing his choreography with perfection. Hobi was a force to be reckoned with and dance was his element.

“You’re here,” his professional and focused aura peeled back as soon as he saw you enter the room, “I need a break anyway.”

You sat on the floor with your back resting against the wall of mirrors.

“I’m here and I cannot believe I witnessed such perfection,” you clapped your hands, “I still cannot believe my best friend is talented enough to finally snatch me away from poverty.”

“You know I got us,” he sat beside you before laying his head on your lap. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat from head to toe, “but let’s not forget you chose to be poor.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I can’t really help having idiotic parents,” you shrugged.

“I know baby,” he cooed. Hobi was quiet which was definitely out of his usual nature where he radiated a blinding luminescent orb around his being. He fidgeted with the strings on his sweatpants and opened his mouth only to say it again.

“Hoseok, you’re anxious and it’s making me anxious. Just say what you need to say.”

You combed your fingers through his damp hair, “I saw they, your parents, left a voicemail for you last week. Did you ever get back to them?”

“No,” you sighed, “and I don’t think I want to either. Everything they tried to do and were willing to do was truly wicked and unforgivable.”

“You never told me what happened.”

“It involves Jungkook, of course, and everything we did while in high school, Yeonjun’s party the summer before senior year.”

“The one he threw the week before school started?”

“Yes.”

“To this day I still can’t remember shit about that night.”

You chuckled, “a lot of our classmates don’t remember that night at all but I do. I remember every single detail.”

He didn’t say anything so you continued.

Yeonjun’s lake house was like a maze. There were numerous narrow halls with an array of doors carved on each wall and it was the same for every single corner you’ve turned into so far. The little bit of alcohol you had began clouding your mind and you felt more intoxicated than you actually were. Your kitten heeled black sandals clacking against the hardwood floor sought a way out of this elaborate labyrinth and back to what you originally came for.

The music playing just a floor below faded as you traveled deeper and deeper into the second floor, although you could still feel the booming bass vibrating right under your feet.

You just needed a bathroom—not because you actually needed to use it but because you needed to take a minute to yourself. . to breathe. Every other corner of this house including the back and front yards and even the fucking lake are already invaded by massive seas of drunk teenagers. Their voices were too loud, the music was headache inducing and the atmosphere adopted a stench of sweat and b.o.

After ditching the red solo cup on a nearby console table, you leaned against the off-white walls closing your to block out the dim lights making you a bit lightheaded.

Seriously, who even had this many fucking rooms in one house. You mumbled.

Sure, your family was wealthy but you were nothing like the Choi family. Your parents were both doctor’s devoting their time to the tiny private practice the two of them founded but on the other hand Yeonjun’s family came from a long lineage of businessmen and they practically owned a handful of the businesses for miles and miles around.

You weren’t jealous of all of the extra zeroes attached to his parents’ net worth, you and your own lived comfortably enough to not have any financial complaints. However, his parents were more liberal and they didn’t clip his wings. They weren’t clingy or demanding and they certainly did not push anything on him that he didn’t want to do. Your parents were not this way, they were controlling, and they told you what to do and eat, who to hang out with and date. With covetous thoughts you wondered if there would ever be a point in your life where you could feel as free as Yeonjun did.

Maybe now that you’ve turned eighteen things would be different. Doubtful—your birthday was a month ago and nothing has changed. Unfortunately, you still lived under their roof and relied on their money.

You removed your shoes and hesitated whether to travel back down stairs and out somewhere into the depth of the forest but immediately erased the thought from your mind as you looked down at your bare feet, mini skirt and crop top. This wasn’t really an appropriate outfit to go off exploring the woods in the middle of the night.

The minutes continued ticking by and finally you spotted a door at the end of the opposite hallway with a vertical rectangular piece of frosted glass cut right down the middle. Your feet traveled down the heated floors before your hand reached out for the black knob; turning it slowly.

It was a rooftop balcony.

The railing was wrapped in garden lights, while two sets of black cushioned reclining beach chairs sat around a propane fire pit. There was a massive grill to the other side, a bar that would put a nightclub to shame and a huge patio furniture set.

Your eyes thoroughly scanned your surroundings before landing on the boy leaning against the rail staring at the idiots swimming in the lake below. For the first time since you met him approximately four years ago his legs were exposed under the light washed knee length jorts, he wore a white t-shirt and a pair of black and white checkered vans. Still, right up the alley of what his style embodied but you had to admit you missed his signature chunky boots.

He still hadn’t noticed you so you walked up slowly, “I never thought I’d see you at a party like this,” you whispered in his ear before jumping right beside him.

The moon rays reflected a twinkle in his dark eyes, “Yeonjun and I are cool.”

“So, why aren’t you down stairs?”

“Why aren’t you?” his gaze traveled from your black painted toes all the way up to your eyes as if he was studying you intently.

“Too crowded,” you shrugged, “and not enough room to breathe.”

Jungkook looked ahead, his vision once again consumed by the dark green and brown shades of the dense forest once again, his side profile put artworks all across the world to shame.

“Yeah, same,” he added, “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret but parties aren’t really my thing.”

“No way. . I’ve seen you at every party for the past three years,” he dramatically rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in your voice and you chuckled before continuing a bit softer, “is this your first one?”

Jungkook nodded, “first one I’ve been invited to and the first I’ve ever attended too.”

“We’re breaking records tonight aren’t we.”

“I guess I’m feeling a bit audacious.”

You sneered, “audacious? Big word.”

“Don’t tell me you think I’m stupid like the rest of our classmates. .”

“I did my internship in the main office last year which included sealing report cards and sending them off,” he walked to one of the chairs and laid on it placing both of his palms under his head. Was he flexing? Couldn’t be. “You’ve practically taken every AP class offered at our school and aced all of them too. It’s a miracle how you have managed.”

“What can I say?” he smiled and his cheeks rose like two loaves of bread in an oven, “I’m all brains baby.”

“Brains and beauty,” you corrected.

“I can’t also be ‘beauty’ when you’re here; living, breathing, being,” Jungkook is the personification of all of your desires and his aura worked hard to draw you closer and closer in his direction no matter how hard you worked to stay away, for his sake. Even when you tried to repel away from him the gravitational force he exuded called out your name and your tympanum became inundated by the wails of his being.

Only he lived in your thoughts.

The video-like memories you have shot of him throughout the years loop in your mind day and night. It was dizzying but you didn’t want it any other way.

“You are beautiful,” you let your thoughts roll off your tongue freely—too tipsy to care and too enthralled by his striking features to lie about what you truly felt. What you’ve been working so hard to suppress for the past few years. You were tired of hiding, so fucking tired, “with your big beautiful eyes, and your cherry lips and rosey cheeks and all of these tattoos,” you carried on, “oh, and those piercings. Don’t you know that Jungkook?”

He was flushed and his head became tilted down as he played around with the silver rings on his fingers, “know what?”

“That you are more beautiful than life itself.”

Jungkook scooched over on the chair and patted the empty space beside him inviting you to sit near him and you did. He laid on his side while his face rested on his left palm.

“Are you drunk?” he asked.

“I only had two sips of Hobi’s drink,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “I’ve been on cranberry juice most of the night.”

“So this is not a case of drunken words you’ll forget once the sun comes up?” he leaned in closer and you could see the faint freckles dancing on his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose.

His eyes sparkled projecting bright constellations never before seen in the heavens, “I could never forget anything about you.”

“You know I can’t believe that right?”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve forgotten about me for the past year,” he smiled devilishly, “you haven’t spared me the time of day. I’ve missed your sneaky glances. The way you’d drop your pencil half way through algebra just to bat those pretty eyelashes in my direction kind of like you are now.”

“I didn’t do that just to look at you,” you clutched the thin gold chain hanging from his neck, guiding him closer to you, “I was just genuinely clumsy.”

“I’m just saying it’s funny how the pencil always fell in my direction,”

“Forget the pencil, Jungkook,” shivers cascaded down your back as his lips hovered over yours—his breath fanning against them. The aroma of lemon, and mint, with woody and balsamic undertones tickled your nostrils.

Jungkook shook his head, his eyes remained on your lips as you swiped your tongue along them, “it’s not about the pencil?”

“It’s not,” you added, tucking the few strands of hair that framed his face behind his ear. You just wanted to lay there with him forever, to be consumed by the warmth of his embrace, to lose yourself in the tenderness of his kisses, to wake up next to him tomorrow and also every single day after that.

“So just admit you wanted to lo—”

You lips landed on his and finally you remembered just how magical kissing Jungkook was except unlike that day in school the bathroom, today, it wasn’t a game. You were there on your own free will and you didn’t care who was around to see. The only concern clouding your mind was how much more of him you craved. The way your mouths moved each other made you feel inebriated, even more than alcohol ever could and you weren’t afraid to admit his lips had you addicted.

The silver metal hoop hung onto the corner of his lip felt cold, but so good in comparison to his heated kisses. Despite where you were or how many people currently invaded Yeonjun’s house it felt like you and Jungkook were the only two people on the entire planet. Just the two of you with your lips dancing on each other with the moon and the stars baring as your only witnesses.

Jungkook pulled away slowly—panting slightly, “please shut me up like that more often,” he held your face, resting his forehead on yours and pecking your lips continuously, “tell me you’ll do it. Tell me you’ll always kiss my stupidity away.”

You nodded, “Jungkook, how about I kiss you like that always and forever. Not only because of your stupidity as you call it but just because.”

“Are you trying to confess something?”

He sat across from you on the beach chair taking your legs onto his lap, his soft hands massaged the soles of your feet. You swallowed back the guttural groan riding up your throat melting deeper into the chair due to his therapeutic touch. His fingers moved higher and higher up the length of your extremities, halting right above your knees, yet he continued kneading his fingers into your skin.

“Tell me.”

You hummed.

“I need you to be an open book with me. What are you looking to confess?”

Your eyes remained closed as he continued touching you gently—almost feather-like, “Jungkook, I can’t really think when you’re doing that. .”

“Should I stop?”

“No, please,” you pant.

He continued kneading your thighs, “tell me.”

From the tips of his fingers currents of electricity trickled onto your skin, “ah, fuck. .” you breathed, “I like you Jungkook. I like you. Okay?”

Hobi sat up beside you, now leaning against the mirrors as well. The sun has begun its journey towards the horizon and its rays peaked through the slightly drawn blinds, “wait so you guys. .?”

You nodded but said nothing else. That night had been a secret between you and Jungkook.

“On the roof of Yeonjun’s house during our senior year back to school bash?” The surprise in his tone was evident but you weren’t taken back by it all.

“Yes,” you smiled faintly, unwilling to hide the giddiness you felt from the memories of your time together from Jungkook, “it was our little secret. We swore to each other we wouldn’t say anything to anyone. That’s why I didn't mention anything to you before but obviously someone saw and word got out that same night.”

Hobi sighed, “don’t tell me another fight broke out between him and your dumbass ex-boyfriend.”

You shook your head, “this time it was different. I wasn’t scared of what others thought anymore. In that moment I decided I would stop caring. I wanted to stop hurting him,” your clammy hands began to shake slightly and Hobi placed his palms on top of them to stop their trembling, “that night after the party we rode around all night aimlessly. Enjoying each other’s company and truly I was the happiest I had ever been all my life. Everything went to shit as soon as I made it home and walked in through the door. My parents waited for me to get in, they sat me down and began rambling about my change in behavior and how different I had become.”

He hummed and you took that as a sign to continue.

“As soon as I sat on the chair that night they slid over my mom’s phone and there was a picture of Jungkook and I kissing on one of the longue chairs. I swear I had dejavu from freshman year.”

“Did you ever find who took the picture?”

“I never did but I always figured it was one of my ex’s minions or something,” you shrugged, “to be honest, trying to figure it out was the last thing on my mind. They started talking and talking rambling on about my personality change and rebelliance and how Jungkook was the cause of it or some shit.”

“How did they even come up with that?”

“I asked myself the same thing,” you snickered, just thinking about it even now makes your blood boil, “but it didn’t matter. Being eighteen didn’t matter; they just wanted to keep us away from each other at all costs. They made all types of threats to make me press charges and file a restraining order which I obviously refused. Then, they vowed to make his life hell if I didn’t stay away and I didn’t want to find out what they meant so I decided to comply and stay away.”

“Okay, now I’m beginning to understand why you moved in with my family half way through senior year,” his thumb rubbed circles on the dorsal side of your hand, “were they mad when you left? I used to ask my mom if your folks ever reached out but she always avoided the question.”

“They were livid but nothing they could ever say or do would ever make me stay in that place.”

“Did they manage to leave Jungkook alone?”

“Well, after the big cut-off Jungkook and I were never able to find our way back to each other,” your voice was low, almost as if you couldn’t hear yourself it just wouldn’t be true, “and I moved in with you and your mom and I completely blocked them out of my life.”

“Good. I’m glad you ditched them,” he pinched your cheeks, “you deserve better than them and their money’s no good to you anyway.”

“I just wish I would’ve kept in contact with him. Maybe tell him what was going on or something,” you scratched the back of your neck obviously frustrated at your lack of communication skills as a stupid eighteen year old. You were such an idiot—why couldn’t you open your fucking mouth?

“We all make bad decisions at one point in our lives but you had no choice, baby. You were sandwiched into the wall one bad choice up against another. You made the best decision you could with the circumstances at hand,” he snuggled closer to you, wrapping one hand around your shoulder, “don’t beat yourself up over it please.”

“I love you. Seriously, I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”

He kissed your forehead, “I love you more.”

Today Jungkook’s highway of thoughts has eased and though you liked how calm the morning has been you also kind of missed the feeling of his lingering presence—almost as if your own shadow was missing.

You despised waking up towards the early hours of the afternoon but today you couldn’t seem to peel yourself out of of your bed, until finally you couldn’t fathom the idea of napping your day away—plus couldn’t do that even if you wanted to because Jungkook and Jimin would be over in about thirty minutes to begin working on Mr. Kim’s project.

Jimin had been the middle man in this entire set-up, he had both of your numbers so he took it upon himself to text the two of your separately (because he knew you and Jungkook were physically impossible of initiating a social exchange amongst yourselves), and get you both on board with a neutral territory to meet at. Of course, Jimin’s idea of a neutral territory involved a place where he could catch glimpses of his ex strutting around which meant your apartment was his ideal meeting spot and although his thoughts hadn’t revealed anything so far you just knew Jungkook wasn’t ecstatic about this whole arrangement.

After taking a quick shower, getting dressed and setting up a plate of sliced fruits and a couple bags of snack size chips and cookies you heard a light knock on your door.

Taking a deep breath you turned the knob before pulling the door open. It was Jungkook and as always he looked breathtaking. You were beginning to think comfort was his go-to because yet again, he wore sweats and a simple t-shirt—tattoos still peeking out at you, his bottom lip still pierced with the same small silver hoop, hair half up half down and his book bag slung on his left shoulder.

Removing his headphones he stared back at you as you continued ogling him, “hey. .” he greeted in his deep tone.

Why is she staring at me like that?

Do I have a stain or something?

He looked down at his shirt but when he saw nothing he just stared back at you tilting his head slightly.

“Hi,” you stepped out of his way and he finally crossed over the threshold into your apartment, “you’re the first one here so we’re just waiting on Jimin to make it before we begin. Please sit anywhere.”

He nodded.

The apartment wasn’t necessarily big but it wasn’t small either. An open floor plan made up the space between the kitchen and living room area with a rectangular island separating the two rooms. Immediately to the right of that was the door leading to Hobi’s room, then your room sat at the end of that hall just a couple feet away and the bathroom was just across from your door.

Yet even as you walked towards the kitchen and Jungkook made strides towards the love seat in the living room you felt like the two of you were cramped in a tiny box with the temperature hiked to the highest setting. God, there were about a million things you could say or offer him but nothing could ever mend his broken heart and that was enough to keep your lips sealed tight.

Where the fuck is Jimin?

I don’t know if I can be here alone with her for much longer.

And it’s so fucking hot. I’m gonna pass out.

Fuck, you knew it. He’s upset. Though you already figured coming here was probably hard for him, you didn’t imagine it would hurt you as much as it did to actually know how much he despised being in your vicinity, but it did.

Jungkook sat rather stiffly on the couch, bag still slung on his back as if he was ready to leave, staring off into the distance while his leg bounced up and down anxiously. Strolling past him silently you nearned the thermostat and cranked the AC up higher.

That’ll literally fix nothing at all.

You turned around taking a seat on one of the accent chairs near the row of windows on the opposite end of the living room. If it wasn’t for the invasion of his thoughts, the silence would be killing you softly.

“Have you heard anything from Jimin?” he finally looked in your direction but not into your eyes instead they lingered lower—in the direction of your legs. The hunger displayed in his eyes took you back to the night before when he moaned your name so sweetly.

“Nothing,” you tapped your screen to show him the lack of texts and placing the phone back on your thigh, his gaze followed almost like he was hypnotized.

You would give anything to hear him just one more time—Fuck, just once more.

He cleared his throat, snapping out of those sinful thoughts cooking up in your head, “yeah, same. And I’ve texted him like three times.”

“I’m thinking that little shit bailed even though he planned this whole thing,” you were scared to form your thoughts into actual words, “do you want us to start or would you rather wait for him?”

He breathed out almost exasperated—damn, you should’ve kept the suggestion to yourself. You were about to take it all back but then he finally spoke up, “We’re both here now. I think we can begin and then fill him in. . If that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, I think that’s the best we can do,” did he just willingly comply with staying alone with you, “I’ll go get my notebook. Gimme one second.”

“Okay.”

Right. . Okay. Just here to get our work done. That’s all. That is all. Yeah.

You sat beside him on the couch startling him just a bit—he seemed tense, “so we’re supposed to pick a movie, and match no less than three scenes to at least one of the emotions listed.”

“I say we do the very minimum and pick the movie I’m sure we’ve all watched,” he asked, unzipping his bag and pulling out his notebook.

“Titanic?” you asked.

“No, The Blind Side,” he scoffed, “do we really want to sit here for one hundred hours just to recap the eternity that is Titanic?”

“But the emotions for Titanic are so easy to dissect; we have happiness, love, and jealousy right off the bat,” you argued, “the assignment is practically done for us already.”

“Yeah, but everyone’s going to do Titanic. We need to stand out. Be different.”

“It’s an intro to writing class. I vote for taking it easy, weren’t you just moaning about taking it easy anyway?” your tone was a bit condescending you’d admit but the way he scanned your figure was addicting. There was nothing you craved more in this world than to have his gaze drink you in as if you were his favorite drink.

“I wasn’t moaning.”

I was last night though.

You swallowed hard, biting your tongue and holding yourself back from going along with begging him to moan the way you’d heard him do so the night before. His husk groans so low and sweet, so fucking sweet, “But you were.”

“It was a suggestion. There was no moaning involved.”

“Well, maybe if you did moan I would cave and take your suggestion,” the words rolled off your tongue before you could ever stop them.

He smirked, “so you just wanna hear me moan.”

Don’t smirk.

Eternally mad at her, remember?

The internal conflict raging within him gave you at least a little bit of hope. As you mapped out the field of his thoughts you figured he wanted nothing to do with but distance himself; to be cold and standoffish but he also revealed he wanted you. He wanted you near—to hold you, kiss you, touch you.

It was confusing and headache inducing but you liked that you still lived in his mind the same way he lived in yours.

You shrugged, “maybe I do.”

“Please, don’t,” his eyes finally met yours.

Look away.

But he didn’t and you were glad he didn’t.

“Do you want me to beg Jungkook?” you purred low and slow—the translation intended was desperation and you hoped he understood exactly what you were hinting at. You were tired of hiding behind your emotions.

She’s a fucking pied piper and I’m the snake hyptonized by sweet song and mindlessly slithering towards her.

Yes, Jungkook. Come closer, come to me. If only he could listen to your thoughts, this would be a whole lot easier.

Fucking one way telepathy.

“Uh,” there was a mere blank look plastered on his features. His pupils were blown and a soft tint of rose dusted his cheeks. It was as if your words had sucker punched him and he was still processing the hit.

You moved closer to him on the couch, placed your hand on his thighs to balance yourself as you drew closer to his ear, “please, Jungkook. Please, I need to hear you moan again.”

Fuck.

Fuck!

He groaned and the honeyed husk tone sent a trail of goosebumps up your thighs resulting in your panties becoming moist, “please.”

“Jungkook, I want you,” it was the first time in years you’d heard those words adjacent to his name and fuck did it feel good.

Fuck it.

His calloused hands were now on your waist and he began guiding you to lay on the loveseat before your hand landed on his chest to stop him.

“I said I want you,” you sat him back down before kneeling in-between his legs. The fit of his sweats got tighter, lifting and taking on the shape of a tent, “you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment so that means I’m in charge here today.”

Tell her. It’s easy.

Tell her you want her too, you fucking idiot.

He never vocalized it but you didn’t mind—knowing the thought pranced around on his mind was more than enough for you.

“Are you okay with taking these off?” he complied, taking his sweats off swiftly, letting the pool at his ankles. Jungkook is fucking big and you were taken back by the sight, “good boy,” you cooed.

His head fell back on the headrest while his eyes were shut tightly and his breathing became uneven. Oh! He likes that. He likes being called a good boy; you made a mental note to call him that again if you find yourself in a similar predicament.

You raked your nails along his inner thigh, “Jungkook?”

He hummed.

“What do you fantasize about?” you laid your head on his thigh, his dick just a couple inches away from your face and truly all you wanted was to take him all in your mouth.

“Alot of things.”

You reached up, taking his length into your hold and he winced at the contact as you began moving your hand up and down once and once again, “I need more details than that.”

“I think of. .” his words became jumbled in his throat as you continued your very mellow and teasing touch, “of you doing, ah fuck, of you doing all these things to me.”

You clicked your tongue and shook your head at his semi-confession, “Jungkook, have you touched yourself while you think of me, hm?”

Of course, you already knew. You’d heard it yourself but you just loved seeing him become so affected and so sensitive as a result of your lewd utters.

Your palms traveled up to his pink tip and began rubbing circles with your thumb painting it white with his precum.

“Good boys don’t touch themself.”

Jungkook’s mouth remained agape but there were no words communicated instead he formed a sort of soft whimper, and that was the kind of motivation your body needed to go into overdrive.

You wanted. . No, needed to rid yourself of these suffocating ass fucking clothes, you needed to touch yourself—to release that tension aching so painfully in between your legs. But you didn’t. Today was not about you.

“I know. .” he groaned, digging his nails onto the black leather couch, “but when I have you invade my thoughts,” he paused looking for all of the right words, “I just can’t control myself.”

“Hm, seems like I have a lot to live up to compared to your fantasies,” you kissed the head enveloped in your hand before swiping your tongue along his shaft and he hissed.

His saccharine noises should be made into a playlist so that you could be able to replay them over and over everywhere you go but especially when you lay under the covers of your bed in the late hours of the night. The only thoughts occupying your mind would be the compositions of his lustful cries as your fingers worked diligently to get yourself off.

It was so tempting to just allow his hands to continue traveling down your stomach and waist, a few more inches and his fingers could be at the exact location where your body screamed out for his attention.

You wanted it so bad.

You tutted while clicking your tongue, “sit back, Jungkook,” you removed his warm feeling away from your lower back and placed them on his knees before patting them softly, “and keep your hands to yourself. Yeah?”

“It’s really hard to,” he said, “nearly impossible when you’re working so hard to get me off and you’re just sitting there squirming whenever I talk about touching you. Cause the thought has lingered around in your mind, right?”

“Jungkook, this is not how tonight is supposed to go.”

“Then, how is it supposed to go?”

Your hand began moving up and down his cock, pumping him once again before you felt the corners of your mouth beginning to sting as you wrapped your lips around him. It was painful. . Good painful though. With each passing second you bobbed your head on his cock working to take him inch by inch but no matter how much you tried, it was nearly impossible.

His hand snaked around your neck aiding you, sinking himself deeper into the warmth of your mouth. With strings of saliva streaming down your chin, puffy lips, heated skin and a sort of fucked out look in your eyes you continued the repetition.

Seeing him lose himself under the ministrations of your touch and mouth was overwhelming and drove you to the verge of nearly succumbing to the peaking orgasm lurking close by. Instead you diverted your mind to what you were doing instead of what you felt. Placing one your hand around the base of his balls massaging them into your touch, while you put firm pressure with your thumb on the perineum—and that’s when you saw the explosion of fireworks erupt in his eyes while his thighs began to shake.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Her mouth is—fuck!

“I’m so close,” a needy whimper escaped his lips, “please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Please.”

You complied, nearly choking on his cock. The feeling of being nearly rid of your ability to breathe was addicting and yes, if tonight were to be your last day on earth it would be a pleasure to die with Jungkook’s dick in your mouth.

“I’ve been a good boy,” he cried out, “can I please cum?”

Been such a good boy. So good.

You hummed in approval right before he spilled into your mouth and you swallowed every bit of it before turning to see his splayed out body—all limp and tired.

After wiping the corners of your mouth you sat beside him on the couch. Your knees were red and stung just a bit but honestly you could do it all over again—all night if you could. Slightly, opening his eyes he looked down, placing a kiss on each knee.

“I never thought we would-” he paused momentarily, “we would do something like this ever again.”

“Really?” your voice became hoarse, “because I’ve thought about it for a long long time now.”

“You have?”

“I have,” you continued, “and I’d like to think you do as well but if you’re ever ready to actually admit what you truly feel you know where I’ll be.”

I do want you. So bad.

And my feelings for you have always remained the same. I still have feelings for you, I feel everything for you. I always have and always will.

He didn’t say a word but simply offered a sly smile before slipping away to get himself together in the bathroom.

… But you were not disappointed.

He needed time and that’s okay. You’d be more than happy to give him the time to dissect this peculiar relationship the two of you have. . developed. It’s the least you could do after all these years.

In your heart you just hope he finds his way back to you.

“So you sucked him dry and then you both continued to work on the project like nothing happened?” Jimin asked; his head laid on Hobi’s lap. Yes, they were back together. This was apparently the reason why he had missed the project session the night before.

“We were kinda forced to when your ass was MIA from the very meeting you set-up.”

He rolled his eyes, “nobody forced you to suck his dick.”

“Fuck you, Jimin.”

“Why don’t you begin by fucking Jungkook instead.”

“Jungkook and I aren’t fucking anytime soon,” you sighed spinning around on your desk chair. The ceiling seemed to come crashing down on you even as you thought of gravity of your fucked up reality, “it’s like I can feel that he still feels something for me but he just won’t vocalize it.”

Hobi caressed the apples of Jimin’s pink cheeks, stroking them lightly with his thumb. They were the picture perfect image of love—whenever they were not fighting of course.

“So you sucked his dick at the expense of what?” Hobi inquired.

“I really just wanted him in my fucking mouth,” you shrugged not really wanting to scramble for any other explanation because the truth of the matter is all of you would always calls out for Jungkook whether you wanted to or not.

“Oh, baby,” Hobi abandoned his place on your bed and kneeled in front of you holding your hands in his, “while I support all forms of slut revelations and tendencies as your best friend it is within my obligation to require you to tend after your heart.”

You nodded.

“Jungkook is alluring, captivating, mysterious and absolutely handsome—” Jimin cleared his throat behind him, but he ignored his boyfriend and proceeded, “and the two of you have a lot of history both good and bad but you have to understand what happened in the past is yesterday’s event. Jungkook can break your heart or hurt you in any way and it’ll be just as fucked up no matter what happened between the two of you back in high school. Okay?”

“Okay,” Hobi was right but how could you shut out the part of your brain which justified every single way Jungkook could tear you apart? Underneath the spark; shining bright in your eyes every single time he appeared in your line of vision you knew you deserved his wrath for every inconvenience you had a role in while inserted into his path.

“Don’t just say it. Mean it.”

The room felt smaller, suffocating, colder and Hobi’s words rolled around in your head in every single direction. The three of you were sprawled around your full bed watching a random movie Jimin had picked out. You sat up against the headboard while the two of them laid on their stomachs facing the television hung on your wall. You weren’t alone but your bed felt empty and as you looked off to your right you couldn’t help but be transported back to last night when you and Jungkook finally settled on the Titanic.

The tragic telling of two people who found their way to each other against all circumstances and the barrier of societal norms and expectations that stood in-between them. Of course, aside from Leo unnecessarily dying in the final act this could be a retelling of pinpoints on your relationship with Jungkook. You liked each other, your parents were against it, you lived in the moment and you let your heart lead a way here and there but as soon as the iceberg (your parents, your ex, and even you) became introduced as the antagonist the two of you found yourselves swimming in an ocean of heartbreak and despair.

You would always assume responsibility for every single way you hurt Jungkook in the past but if one thing must be crystal clear is that you also love him. You did back then and you do now—the only difference is that back then you were looking to please all of those around you and you suppress your feelings in the deepest pocket of your heart but you wanted to liberate it all. You were finally ready to listen to your heart.

It was a composition to a beautiful song, one so loud it courses through your very being, awakening your nerves and causing your thoughts to explode into a frenzy.

You wanted him here with you. Snuggling into you sharing longing looks and deprived touches.

You wanted him to be open and push all of his fears away.

You wanted him to realize that you were different now. Things were different and you would treat him so well.

I need to talk to her. Yeah.

Almost as if his brain and his phone were wired together you heard a ding go off right beside you.

‘Hey, can we please talk?’

Your heart sank because in your experience that sentence never led to a good thing. Never.

‘Sure. When are you free?’

‘Right now.’

‘Hobi and Jimin are home. You can come over if you don’t mind some company or we can meet somewhere else?’

‘Come to my apartment in 5.’

‘K.’

Jittery was the exact word you’d use to describe Jungkook at soon as he opened up the door to his apartment and stepped aside to allow you in. The length of his finger had a slight tremble and his eyes were blown wide.

You hadn’t really seen him like that in a while.

“Jungkook, are you okay?”

He nodded, “yeah, just a bit stressed with everything going on plus I’ve had like five energy drinks in the past five hours.”

“What’s got you so stressed?” you asked standing before him, you felt hesitant to sit anymore. I mean you did have his dick in your mouth like less than twenty-four hours ago but you didn’t want to push it and you certainly did not want to invade his personal space.

“Too many things, honestly. School for one. .” he ran a hand through his hair taking a brief second to determine exactly what he wanted to reveal to you, “work study plus now I'll be co-coaching the swim team as well.”

“You’re headstrong Jungkook,” you offered, “I’m sure you’ll do amazingly even with this hectic schedule you are so determined to take on.”

“I went to this psychic once and she told me my ambition to take on everything would lead to my demise,” he chuckled airily, “I’m beginning to think she was right.”

“Psychics are bullshit. Who says you can’t have cake and chocolate ice cream too?”

“Right,” you hadn’t noticed before but casual was Jungkook’s new staple. Seems like he has drifted away from his black boots and particularly dark toned outfits. You liked that version of him quite a lot, although you hadn’t really shown it in the past. However, you also liked the version of him standing before you where he maximized comfort and migrated to mostly tones of white, gray and nudes, “of course you would make that comparison. Cake and chocolate ice cream have always been your go to dessert combination.”

“Isn’t it everyones?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “for example my nutritionist might say it’s too sugary.”

“Well, fuck the psychic and that nutritionist of yours too,” Jungkook’s laugh is just like the rest of him—inviting, sweet and genuine. When he laughs, it’s addictive enough to make you want to make him laugh again and again, just so you can hear that sound and see her giggly smile as much as possible, “forreal, but also just remember you gotta just live in the moment, don't worry about tomorrow or even yesterday. Today is all that matters.”

“I definitely agree but funny enough I kinda wanted to talk to you about what happened last night..” He cleared his throat, “on the couch of your apartment. Well you and Hobi’s apartment.”

You looked down at your dusty white converse before finding his eyes once again, “what exactly did you want to talk about?”

Go on. Go on.

“We’re good right? Are you okay after—well, you know,” was he worried about hurting you after you suck him off yesterday? God, you could suck his dick all over again and then once more after that or preferably until your jaw locks and your knees dissipate. Though, that still wouldn’t be enough to extinguish the burning desire in the pit of your stomach.

“What exactly are you asking?” you took a step towards him, “shouldn’t I be the one making sure we’re good especially considering all of our history together?”

“Forget that.”

Don’t bring it up, please. Just forget about it.

“I can’t Jungkook,” you sighed, “I wanna make sure we’re okay and I wanna apologize for what happened. Please, let me do it. I don’t want you to resent me for the rest of your life because of it.”

“There’s no need to. I forgave you long ago. The cold stares and snarky comments were always just a front,” he confessed, “I forgave you the second after everything went down.”

“And I thank you for that but I still need to do this. I need to get it off my chest,” you reached for his hand; the warmth of his hold settled your nerves and finally you were able to go on, “Please, forgive me Jungkook. For going through with that dare and kissing you in the bathroom. I did want to kiss you but I should’ve never let them take a picture; it only made things worse for you. I’m sorry for not comforting you after your fight with my idiot ex, although I wanted to. I was scared but you were too and it was my fault so I should’ve been there. I’m sorry for ghosting you after we spent the night together at Yeonjun’s party—my parents, they gave me an ultimatum and I was just a high school senior still very dependent on them and I know that’s not an excuse but I managed to make it one back then. Most of all I’m so fucking sorry for not reaching out to you sooner and making things right. I just hope it isn’t too late now.”

His hands abandoned yours and instead he leaned over before cupping your face, “I told you already. I forgave you for everything a long time ago.”

“I appreciate your kind heart and forgiving nature, Jungkook,” you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in the process, “but still I needed you to know how truly sorry I am.”

“Please, stop apologizing,” he sighed, “the past is the past and you have no reason to be apologizing to me right now.”

“You keep saying that but I did and I do,” Jungkook’s stare was comforting; his eyes felt like embers burning your skin under the sun rays shining bright during the mid-afternoon sun, “and I will continue to do so at any given minute. I need to make up for all of that lost time—every single minute; every hour I’ve let you slip through my fingers. You deserve to be treasured, loved and cherished for the rest of your days and I will do just that if you allow me to.”

“What exactly are you asking me?”

“I’m simply asking that we allow things to ride out and perhaps the tide might just take us somewhere beautiful.”

He giggled, “do these sonnets just live in that pretty little head of yours?”

“My head is more than just pretty,” you challenge.

“I know that,” this is the giddiest you’ve ever seen Jungkook be. In recent times he had adopted a sort of hard shell, which he often wore like a shield but today as he leaned on his kitchen island with his head propped up on his palms he looked elated, “I just like the way you describe the potential of there being an. . us.”

“Do you like it enough to give things a chance? Maybe even go on a date?” the tremble in your extremities gave away just how truly nervous you felt, though you tried your best to hide it. You’d never asked anyone out before but for Jungkook you were willing to make the first move.

She’s so poetic with her affinity for love. I like the way her eyes light up when she talks about us being together.

“How about tomorrow?”

“I’m free tomorrow.”

The following day was a blur overshadowed by a nimbostratus cloud which swept in a vicious squall with gusts so powerful your room was left a literal mess as you spent hours prior to Jungkook picking up frantically looking for the perfect date outfit.

Now, you sat in your little casual red dress in the passenger seat of the car Jungkook borrowed from his best friend. Your balmy sat atop your thighs and you tapped your fingers lightly on your heated skin.

The night sky was beautiful—drowning with a million of bright stars and a moon so illuminating it spotlighted your path. Nightlife here roared with vibrancy and the sidewalks were congested with people bar hopping or looking for dinner spots among other things. This scene had great capability in finally claiming your attention away from Jungkook and his sinful thoughts but it was hard. Every single image Jungkook painted within the beauty of his mind blasted in your head seemingly like a framed art piece in a gallery. Except, the only difference was that roaming around a museum was peaceful, whereas Jungkook's wandering thoughts made you quiver and sent glacial shivers down your spine.

For the duration of the ten minute car ride he’s use the weapon known as his mind and managed to peel your clothes off, re-imagining the way your mouth moved on his cock, then, within seconds he painted a picture of what it would be like to fuck you against the hood of his car. You’d admit the depiction of you against the cold metal bumper with your dress hiked up to your waist, while he pounds into you relentlessly really was more than enough to ignite (with the man sitting behind the wheel; eyes hyper focused on the road ahead; and his tattooed knuckles gripping the steering wheel), about a million fantasies you wanted to fulfill with his assistance.

But the urge to have the heat of his touch roam every inch of your body became abated when Jungkook parked his car and you found yourselves sitting across from each other in the red booth of a seafood restaurant on the pier. The incandescent bulb overhead did very little to irradiate the space between you and yet Jungkook still looked as radiant as ever. The muffled and incessant chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the establishment became similar to the buzzing of bumble bees and truly you weren’t really too sure you could make out conversations they engaged in.

You were kind of nervous and although you’d hope it wasn’t too obvious you couldn’t help the way your eyes scanned the room and your body failed to comply with the simple order of sitting still.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook sat up on the leather seat and looked off outside the glass window drinking in the vicious waves as they crashed against the golden shore.

You look beautiful every single day.

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I see your signature black boots have finally made a comeback,” you followed his eyes out to get a view of the roaring sea, “I thought you might’ve grown out of them.”

This look—tonight was the epitome of teenage Jungkook core and you couldn’t help but savor the brief stroll down memory lane. Of course, back in high school you’d always had a tiny little crush on him and while you worked to get over it; that was not an issue today. You were gawking—practically drooling at how amazing his biceps looked under the sleeves of his white tee, his black jeans hugged his thick thighs and his hair was tied half up half down and of course those damned black boots.

“They’re my secret weapon. I just keep them in the back of my closet for special occasions.”

I also know they were always your favorite look on me.

“In that case, I’m honored that a night with me is considered a special occasion enough to bring out the boots,” Jungkook finally turned towards you, his eyes shining bright like jewels even in the shitty lighting.

“I figured it fit our little slice of history perfectly.”

“Don’t tell me these were the exact ones you wore that day?

“They are the exact same ones.”

“I thought you would have gotten rid of them with everything that transpired,” you whispered; talking about the past still felt taboo.

“I contemplated that many times,” he shrugged then proceeded in a timorous voice, “but I just couldn’t. There is an abundance of bad memories attached to them but the memory of my first kiss trumps all negatives.”

“Your first kiss?” Your shock was evident and for a second you had to look around just to make sure you weren‘t too loud but the people around the two of you were too into their own conversations. They were oblivious to the little corner you and Jungkook occupied towards the back of the restaurant—in your own little world, “I-I was your first kiss?”

He nodded before taking a small sip of his water.

“Jungkook?”

He looked at you, “what?”

“Are you being one-hundred percent serious. . I was your first kiss?”

Jungkook pressed his lips into a tight line causing his cheeks to become impaled by his chasmic dimples; then, he closed his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath, “I was a loser in high school. Of course, I was spared a few friends but in the ‘love’ department I was lacking severely so naturally no one was ever interested in pursuing anything romantic with me. Until, that afternoon when the girl I’d been crushing on finally walked up to me in the bathroom.”

“If I could go back in time and embrace the feelings that I had for you, Jungkook just to tell you how I actually felt I’d do it in a heartbeat,” your heart beat rhythmically in your chest and quickly you began feeling fatigued as if your air supply would be cut off if you didn’t peel back every single one of your layers and confess exactly how you felt.

“If I could go back in time and tell you what I actually felt despite the consequences I’d also do it in a heartbeat,” he murmured, taking your hands in his.

“Good evening and welcome to Under the Sea, can I get you started on anything tonight?” the server approached. Her hair was tied up messily and she wore a black polo and black pants while carrying around a small notepad and pencil in her hand. She seemed friendly but a bit overwhelmed—though, you couldn’t really blame her, this place is leaning a whole lot towards chaos.

“Yeah, we’re ready,” Jungkook said, a fib of course, the two of you had been too busy talking to scan the menu before she came over, “I’ll take the Cioppino. Anything looking appetizing to you?”

“I think I’ll take the Paella.”

“And for drinks?” she asked scribbling away on her notepad.

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“Same here,” the two of you handed back the menu, “thank you.”

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she smiled before walking off towards the kitchen.

The rest of the night at Under the Sea was brief and while you and Jungkook indulged in small talk here and there the two of you were starving and more concerned about getting something in your stomach. After leaving the busy restaurant Jungkook led you in the opposite direction of the parking lot towards the small park across the street from the beach. Right under the live oak tree there was a blanket laid out with numerous flameless candles flickering their feeble light around the very spot. As you got closer you noticed the basket sitting next to the blanket on the grass and the rose petals scattered around.

“Jungkook. .” You became stunned at the attention to detail of the man before you. Everything looked so beautiful, “you did this all? W-when did you even have the time to set this up?”

“I set everything up before our date and I know some of the workers from the restaurant and asked them to check in every once in a while and bring our snacks out like five minutes ago so nothing would spoil.”

“You prepared snacks for us?”

“More like I cut-up some fruits.”

“In that case I’m judging your knife skills.”

“Not too harshly though,” he tittered softly and airily. It mimicked the comforting tunes of lullabies, “come one, let’s sit. I have some things lined up for us tonight.”

You sat beside him on the velvet fabric, you folded your legs to your side and used one of the spare blankets to cover your lap. Before you there were two medium sized tabletop easels and a selection of paints and brushes.

Jungkook removed the white button up he’d left unbuttoned and kept on the white wifebeater. For the first time you finally had a full view of his sleeve; on full display. The black traces filled in with colorful shades adorned every inch of his right arm all the way down to his wrist. You had the urge to reach out and trace every single pattern but you held back—you and Jungkook were good but this is the beginning stage; first you have to dip your toe in and test the waters.

She’s staring at my arms. . Be calm.

Don’t flex. . Don’t flex.

Dammit.

He flexed, reaching up to brush a stand of hair back and out of his face.

You smiled, “so, what’s supposed to be our inspiration for painting tonight?”

“Each other. You paint me and I’ll paint you.”

“Jungkook, I’m a lousy painter,” you whined.

“The point isn’t for it to be good,” Jungkook began brushing soft strokes on the canvas, “it’s about the creative process. . the ideas that your mind interprets into art.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you scoffed.

“Art didn’t always come easy to me.”

“How did you know this is what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?” you finally picked up a brush and squeezed a dash of paint on the wooden palette, allowing your hands to work freely—to create.

“The first time I drew anything for others to see was in high school,” his eyes were gleaming with thoughts of reminisce, “Ms. Julie, reached out to me sophmore year, said she needed my help designing the yearbook cover for the seniors that year.”

“I remember the cover that year,” Jungkook looked over at you and there was a layer of joy featured on his face, “it was absolutely beautiful and I also remember every single cover after that being just as amazing.”

“Thank you,” his cheeks were a crisp crimson now, “I designed all of the year books every year after that as well. Actually, I still help Ms. Julie from time to time even now.”

“That’s amazing. It’s truly a gift that your hands possess and I’m so glad we get to see what they create.”

Jungkook stopped his movements all together, his gaze no longer set on the easel, instead he looked downward, his cheeks still burned bright, maybe a little more now than before and by the paced heaves of his chest he seemed to be calculating his every breath.

“Thank thank you,” he stammered.

“And just so you know I intend to shower you with compliments, so get used to it.”

He beamed, “what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are your passions?”

You shrugged, “Hm, I was never really good at anything back in highschool and while I knew I had to do something. I had a really tough time figuring things out.”

“But then. .”

“Then, I did an internship at the daycare on campus the summer before classes started and I realized how much I love being around all of the kids,” you said, “and at that moment I automatically knew what my major would be, come the fall semester.”

“Funny how life works right?”

“One-hundred percent.”

The cool draft of the expeditious night swept by softly allowing you to leave behind the once scorching afternoon. Right now, you became a resident in your very own slice of heaven and in your head the only people around for miles were you and Jungkook. For the past thirty minutes, the two of you haven’t crossed many words, you were too focused on contextualizing the perfect artwork—one that’ll remind him of you wherever he sees it.

Now, you were not an artist by any means but you tried nevertheless. The best interpretation of him you could come up with was to depict the sheer contrast between the different versions of himself.

The two were slightly different yet when meshed together working symbiotically to make Jungkook the perfect mixture of tranquil, mesmerizing and lulling all in one.

Your canvas was split in two—one side you painted baby blue with music notes substituting the clouds in what would be the bright afternoon sky and and a lousy excuse for a guitar sitting on the bottom. This was the version of him that lived inside and the one only a few people got to see. His mysterious aura and great passion for music. Then, on the opposite side you painted a black background in combination with it there was an abundance of colorful art supplies scattered all throughout. This one represented what he chooses to show and what many saw on the outside on his day-to-day course.

After some finishing touches you moved back on taking one last look at your work, “okay. . Here, I tried my best but it’s not your face. Just some things that remind me of you.”

“Let’s see,” he hummed excitedly, waiting for you to turn the canvas around.

“Be nice, okay?”

“I will, I will.”

When Jungkook was excited there were a lot of distinctive actions that communicated with his body and expressions. His eyes lit up like the explosions of fireworks on a summer night; his shoulders were raised up past his jawline and his cheeks burned bright.

“It’s not good, okay,” you beamed at his cheerfulness; it was cute how thrilled he was.

“It’s perfect,” he leaned closer to sneak a glance, “come on. Let me see.”

“Fine,” turning the canvas around felt like an invasion of privacy, although everything on it was solely about him, it was still like a clear window into your soul and how you saw him.

You’d never been this vulnerable before with anyone. Never.

He scanned the explosion of colors sitting in-between your hands. Jungkook’s lips curved up while the corners of his eyes wrinkled in amusement.

“This is amazing and absolutely the best depiction of everything I love.”

“Don’t lie to me, Professor Picasso.”

“I don’t lie about art,” he reached for it and you placed it in his hands, “and this is a masterpiece.”

You scoffed.

“I’m serious,” he argued, “this is going up on my art wall. Front and center.”

“This better be the only thing on your art wall,” you muttered.

Jungkook finally grabbed his canvas holding it close to his chest. . Well, as close as he could due to the wet paint, “Here’s mine.” he still had not turned it around for you to see.

“You know you actually have to turn it for me to take a look.”

He chuckled, “I know but nervousness is contagious. . Just gimme one second.” He took a deep breath before slowly turning the canvas in your direction and there you were. Same facial features, hair style and red dress you had chosen for the night. The talent his fingers convey is jaw dropping. It is evident Jungkook is an amazing artist through and through.

“Jungkook. .” You knew he was good; you’d seen the covers he had designed for the highschool yearbook back then, still, that didn’t prepare you for this in the slightest bit to see yourself from his point of view, “I don’t have an art wall but this will definitely be the beginning of one in my apartment.”

He guffawed while passing his painting over.

“I’m serious,” you continued, now closely examining his precise attention to detail. He got every single attribute down to the smallest scars and birthmarks, “your talent is impeccable. Just look at how amazing this is. It’s actually not fair at all. I want mine back.”

“No way! You can’t take back gifts you have already given away to someone.”

“Yes, I can,” you argued, “especially if my gift looks like shit next to yours.”

“It most definitely doesn’t. I already told you, I love it and it’s going up on my wall and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he leaned closer, placing a soft peck on your forehead and clutching the painting tight in his grasp.

You groaned admitting defeat, “but I am expecting a lot more paintings from you.”

“Always.”

Of course. As long as you’re beside me, and even if some day for some reason you aren’t, you’ll continue to be my muse forever.

His muse. You love the sound of that.

The sound of the pouring rain beat rhythmically on the glass window. For the next few hours your bed was your haven and Jungkook’s bare arms were your form of a warm blanket.

Although the clock on your night stand marked four o’clock, the day was as dark as night and as the sun refused to come out to play the dark nimbus clouds invaded the stretch of the expansive sky, refusing to allow even a single ray of light to illuminate your bedroom.

The power had gone out but the two of you had lit up some candles in various locations of your room. You were both in your underwear, semi-sticky with a thin layer of sweat coating your entire body as a result of the air conditioner no longer being on.

Even in the heat the two of you couldn’t untangle yourselves from each other.

“We’ve been laying here in the heat for hours,” his fingers raked over your shoulder and down to the middle of your back.

“There’s nowhere we can go to cool down for the day. I’m afraid these four walls are it for us today,” you complained.

“And moving will only make us hotter.”

“I think the two of us being tangled up like this is already making us hotter.”

His hands tightened around your waist, “yet there’s nothing you can say to let me go.”

“Then, it’s a good thing I don’t want you to let go,” you crossed your arms on his chest and laid your chin on them; looking up at him through your lashes taking in his figure as he laid back against the headboard.

“Why are you looking up at me like that?” he asked though his eyes were still closed.

“I just like having you. . here.”

“In your room?” he asked.

“In my life,” you confessed, “I guess I never thought we could make it here again.”

“I had faith—hope. I knew that eventually we would get to talk and forgive each other.”

Every fight and every bicker was a call to drive you closer to me. Immature I know, but it was all I could do and say to get close to you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong to me, Jungkook,” you traced lines over his collarbones leaving before sparks of electricity; you felt as they traveled down to the tip of your finger, “if anything I was constantly praying you’d forgive me.”

Forgiving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

“I walked away after Yeonjun’s party,” he caressed your cheeks with the pads to his finger, “that was my worst mistake and I knew exactly how it looked too; like I just hit it and quit it.”

“You didn’t hit it and quit it, Jungkook,” you sighed, “I did that to us. I was the one who walked away from us. None of it was your fault.”

“But I let you walk away. I didn’t fight for us.”

“Hey,” you cradled his face in your hands, “I didn’t let you fight for us. This is on me.”

But I never went searching for you. I just let you—walk away. The night you got up from that longue chair on the rooftop of Yeonjun’s house I thought that was our beginning; I just never thought it could be our end instead.

“It’s on us,” Jungkook leaned into your touch, softly moving his cheek against your palm, “but we can only work to overcome our past. . Together.”

You held onto the gold link looped around his neck, clutching it in order to pull him towards you until finally your faces were just an inch away from each other, “Together.”

“Kiss me, please,” his breath fanned across your lips as you continued guiding him closer and closer to you—his eyes were closed once again and he completely succumbed into this trance of your navigation. His lips were warm and velvet; parting slowly before they landed on yours. You became lost in the way your heartbeat continued beating faster and faster. The soft ballad of the steady thrumming tickled your ears and along with the taste of his mint lips on yours you began feeling a bit faint.

The room was still hot, the power was still out and you still sat on Jungkook’s lap but now you became exhilarated riding off the feelings in the way your body connected. It wasn’t just the kiss—no, it was also the way his electric touch began tracing the lines outlining your body, traveling down between your breasts, then down your stomach and up your sides until they rested on your hips. Jungkook’s fingers teasingly toyed around with the elastic waistband of your panties, rubbing small circles on your lower back.

You were breathless pulling away from that kiss but in between breaths you managed to pull his forehead against yours before allowing yourself to speak one again, “Jungkook, can I tell you something?”

He nodded.

“I-I want you, Jungkook,” your brain felt like it melted right into mush and there were no coherent thoughts in your head that didn’t revolve around Jungkook.

You were dickmatized. Yes, you were.

“You have me.”

“I want all of you.”

“Take it all,” he whispered.

Do anything you want to me. Do everything you want to me. Do whatever you want with me. I am yours for the taking.

You felt the beads of sweat strolling down your body accompanying the slight tremble in your every movement. Still, you moved with the facade of faux confidence and soon you found yourself straddling his thigh, sinking down against his heated and sticky skin. Indulging in a steady pace you began moving back and forth against his thigh all while holding onto his shoulder for support. Jungkook’s head fell back against the wall but his hands never left your waist guiding your movements to the quickened beat of desperation.

“You look so pretty riding my thigh. You know that?” he smirked; his cheeks were the tone of wine. Jungkook bit his lip to maintain focus on the sloppy motion he continued to maneuver.

You hummed entirely consumed by that heated feeling in between your thighs—entranced in the way his soft whimpers only guided you towards that very place where you could finally reach out and touch the stars.

“Fuck—fuck, keep going, yeah?” you stammered never ever wanting him to stop being the root of your every desire.

What gave her the impression that I’d stop? This. . Us, it just feels so right. I will never be able to live in a reality where the image of her getting off on my thigh could ever cease—not after today. Not ever.

“Just-just let me guide you, baby girl,” his voice was low and husk followed by a series of unpaced breaths.

“Take me there, Jungkook,” you moaned.

Oh, fuck—I’ll take you there baby. I’ll take you there. I’ll take you there.

His fingers dug into you while his fingernails left behind marks of deep crescents traced on your skin. The guidance of his movements was near animalistic and the fabric of your panties was now sticking to your juices and there was nothing you craved more than the desirous urge to unravel under the trance of Jungkook’s ministrations.

Back and forth; back and forth you moved reaching higher and higher as your fingertips brushed touch the points of the luminous star and before you knew your teeth sunk into his shoulders suppressing your moans and your hips no longer followed the rhythm he previously set and you were finally swimming in the night sky—so high; so satiated.

“Oh,” you breathed, “that-that was amazing.”

“You tired yet?” he asked.

“Not at all.”

Jungkook hugged your waist and flipped the two of you over; your bodies pressing together heatedly against the ocean of sheets, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together once again. His hands quickly dipped under the waistband of your panties reaching for your inner thigh, until you felt him press the pads of his fingers in between your folds smearing the combination of your juices. After his torturous teasing he slipped two fingers pumping them in and out of you quickly.

“Oh, baby,” he finally pulled away from your lips, allowing a string of whimpers to slip past your swollen lips, “you feel so fucking good.”

“Jungkook, faster please,” you rocked your hips to match the beat of his fingers moving in and out of you.

“Is that what you want?” he hummed, “tell me. You want to cum at the mercy of my fingers?”

“Yes-yes. That’s what I want please.”

Jungkook laid beside you on the bed with his face buried in the nape of your neck. His hand still worked diligently to get you off as he whispered soft praises against the shell of your ears. You were in your very own depiction of utopia—euphoric with stimulation of endorphins.

“I’m close-close, Jungkook,” you dragged your nails down his back, likely leaving streaks of red trails behind as he quickened his pace. Meanwhile, you felt your body temperature skyrocket and the knot in the pit of your stomach tightened until it could not become any tighter and for the second time that night you felt how the storm passed and once again you floated throughout the night sky.

While Jungkook strove to read your body like the ink inscripted into the pages of his favorite book; the absence of his wandering hands made you feel empty—as if you couldn’t really breathe. At all.

“What happened, baby girl?” his lips traveled downwards on your body while his hands finally worked to unclasp your bra, (two orgasms later you couldn’t believe you still had all your undergarments on), and now your breasts became the forefront of his attack and leisurely he took each nipple in between his teeth smirking at your gasps and shudders as a result of your sensitivity, “are you the one who can’t stand the rule of not touching today?”

“Ah—,” he lightly bit the side of your left breast before kissing it better, “the only thing I hate right now is that your dick isn’t in me right now.”

He laughed; the booming sounds struck just like the raucous cries of thunder just outside your windows, “what makes you think I’m gonna fuck you tonight?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I can feel how hard you are against my leg.”

“What? This?” Jungkook sat-up on the bed working to remove his boxers. When he finally did he discarded them to the pool of clothes somewhere on your bedroom floor while his cock sat before you like it had been a few days prior. Jungkook laid back down in front of you, placed a tender kiss on your forehead before he moved closer towards you, lifting your leg up and allowing it to rest on his hip. Once positioned he began rubbing the head of his cock against your clothed slit —especially focusing on the sensitive bud.

He traced the lines of your lips over and over until you couldn’t take it any longer and tears began filling your eyes and you chanted hastely begging him to fuck you right into the mattress.

“Please, Jungkook,” a needy whimpered rolled off your tongue, “please fuck me, please fuck me please.”

Jungkook was now on top of you and he reached down, moving your soaked panties to the side before he lined himself at your entrance. You closed your eyes anticipating that moment when his cock would slip in and stretch you out so good you’d feel full beyond relief. And just as you imagined he slowly pushed himself past your entrance, your mouth fell agape at the sensation of his cock invading you inch by inch.

The feeling was immeasurable and better than anything you’d ever felt before.

“Will you be okay if I move?” he asked almost out of breath.

You nodded frantically.

“Just let me know if you wanna stop at any point, okay?” he remained still.

You nodded once again.

Jungkook moved cautiously, setting a lento rhythm—almost as if he thought you’d break if he fucked into you too hard. His tattooed hand brushed your heated cheeks as he continued his agonizingly slow thrusts. The room was still silent for the most part except now in company to the pitter-patter of the pouring rain the two of you contributed your very own duet composed of his guttural groans mixed and your shaky pants.

His lips left sweet kisses behind on both of your cheeks, then your nose, your chin and lastly your forehead.

She looks so fucking beautiful like this; all sweaty and aroused just for me. Fucked out just for me. I’m so lucky. So lucky.

“Jungkook?” you tucked your bottom lip under your top row of teeth.

“Yes?”

“Deeper, please,” you whined, “not faster but harder. I want to feel you deep in me.”

Deeper? Fuck. She’s gonna be the death of me. I swear she is. I’ll fuck you just how you’d like baby girl. I’ll fuck you right.

“Okay—okay,” he stammered.

Jungkook stopped his movements and pulled out momentarily as he adjusted his position in between your legs. He grabbed both of them and wrapped them around his waist before pushing past your entrance once again, and yes, it felt just as jaw dropping as the first time. Jungkook’s pace remained lento except now whenever he was about to push back into you he made sure to lunge himself deeper causing the sounds of his skin slapping against yours to echo within the walls of your room.

“Oh, Jungkoook,” you let out a drawn-out moan, chanting his name repeatedly, “right-right there, oh, Jungkooook. Right there. Please don’t stop.”

He continued penetrating you just as you wanted until once again, for the third time that night, you were on the very edge of the planet. You could see the exact place where the sky met the earth. Trotting towards the phenom you felt the way your heartbeat quickened and finally as you approached you began clenching around him until you witnessed an explosion of stars behind your eyes; a feeling so blissful your knuckles turned white as you clutched the sheets underneath you in your grasp.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. .” he hissed pulling out quickly.

“What’s wrong?” you gasp at the feeling of emptiness now substituted by a ravenous void.

“I almost finished inside of you and we forgot to wear a condom,” his cock was held tightly in his hand.

You swiped your tongue on your lips, “would you like some help with that?”

“That is not how today is supposed to go,” he mocked.

“Fine,” you shrug, “but I was going to offer my body as an alternative.” Jungkook’s pupils become dilated, your words obviously peeking his interest, “come on my face, Jungkook.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Jungkook towered over you on the bed, kneeling right beside you on the bed—by now you were spent, too tired to do anything but lay there and admire the way his head hung back as he worked to find his release. The design of his tattoos followed suit beginning all the way from his shoulder blade, to his flexed and veiny bicep all the way down to the tight clasp of his finger around his shaft moving hastily from base to tip.

“Look at you, baby girl. All eager for me to come on you,” Jungkook said through clenched teeth, “you’re so naughty for me. All for me.”

“All for you, Jungkook,” you repeated, “I can’t wait to feel just how warm you’ll be on my face. Come on, baby. ”

Your mantra of praises rolled off your tongue semi-automatically but you were needy to feel his seed on you so you continued using your words to aid him in the process of jerking off. He continued moving his hand up and down his length until the tip became painted white with drops of pre-come.

“I’m almost—” he cried out; his guttural whimpers sent waves of glacial shivers interlacing with the ridges of your spine.

“Yes, Jungkook. Be a good boy.”

“I am a good boy,” his labored breathing came out in puffs, “I am. .”

“Then, come on baby. I’m waiting.”

Jungkook was immersed in what you knew was likely the build-up of his approaching release. His chest inflated and deflated rapidly, while the muscles in his stomach tightened accentuating his already sculpted physique while his cheeks turned a bright scarlet.

“I’m coming!” He cried out.

The spurts of his white semen painted your face as he worked himself to the very last drop. Even in his moment of release Jungkook was careful enough to aim towards your mouth and chin and you licked everything within reach of your tongue.

“Let me get a wet rag and I’ll clean you up okay?” Jungkook stood from the bed and placed a kiss on your forehead before walking towards your bedroom door and opening it up.

A few seconds went by and suddenly you heard a loud shriek and a plethora of muffled words which sounded a lot like your best friend, Hoseok. Not a lot of time went by before you saw Jungkook enter the room frantically before slamming the door shut and leaning against the wooden surface.

“Hoseok’s home?” you laughed.

“And Jimin.”

“And they saw?”

“Mhm.”

“Please remind me to never leave this room naked again.”

“Yes! Please remind him!” Hoseok yelled from just outside the door.

A bursting titter erupted between the two of you and Jungkook climbed back into bed with you before he helped you wipe off the mess he’d made on your body, then laid down beside you.

“Can I ask you something?” You began snuggling deeper into his embrace.

“Yes?.”

“Will you stay here tonight?” You asked barely above a whisper—barely audible.

Jungkook rested his chin on the crook of your neck, “of course, I’ll stay with you tonight.”

There was no place you’d rather be than embraced in the solace of Jungkook’s warmth.

Tonight, tomorrow, and forever after that.

I’ll always stay with you.

an: you know what im about to say right? ignore the smut scene ~if you must~ it literally took me like two weeks to write because my brain wasn’t working >.<

i literally started working on this like a week before seven released…. *gulps*

#bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts reactions #bts imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts jungkook smut #bts jungkook au #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #mentions of literally every member + txt’s yeonjun

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disabled-womans-woman · 1 year

Text

Did you know?

Searching for Cane Decorating (as in the mobility aid) gets you pages of results for Christmas craft videos. Even specifiying by adding the term "disability" or "mobility" still leaves you with a bunch of DIY home decor with cane webbing, for some reason.

So! Here's some videos to get you started on making your mobility aid reflect your personality:

youtube

First is this video featuring a lot of general discussion around mobility aids and being disabled, but does feature large sections for making your aids work for you in a fashionable way--including how to wear heels while using a cane!

youtube

Next, we have this short and sweet (under 5 mins.) aesthetically pleasing video on decorating a cane, that's not just using stickers or bedazzling. It's quite a unique end-product that I haven't seen with other mobility aid customizations.

EDIT NOTE: while the above creator is femme presenting, the result is pretty gender neutral and looks like a high fantasy elf's cane!

youtube

This is another video for decorating that isn't just stickers and bedazzling, but it's much longer than the previous vids with a lot of the YouTuber (Voice Actress Cari Favole) talking about their life and disability in the first 14 minutes before starting the customization.

youtube

Last off, is this video review about just buying a walking stick that is already fashionable and customized for you.

Do you know any other videos about making your mobility aid work with your fashion & personality that you love? Feel free to add them below!

#disability #cripple punk #actually disabled #physical disability #mobility aid #disabled #chronic illness #disabilties #invisible disability #Youtube

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kiddiewrites · 3 months

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First Post

Sooooo this is the first fanfic I write, the current obsession is Call of Duty. Have I ever played the game?? No. Am I gonna play the game? Yes, I've downloaded the mobile version :D. Do the characters match their game personality? Probably not, the only source I have of them are other fanfics and edits I saw on tiktok JAJAJAJA.

Angst, T.F.141 x reader, Platonic!T.F.141 x reader, HURT, bit of OOC T.F. 141, pining!reader, bit of a sad ending, drunk confessions, overheard conversations, PAAAAAAAIIIIN (maybe I’m just projecting Enlgish is my second language so please be kind xd

PART 2

∞ Command me to be well ∞

“There is no sweeter innocence, than our gentle sin”

In all honesty, you weren’t supposed to be there. You should’ve been in the med bay, you should’ve been filing reports on the last mission and updating medical records.

You’ve been assigned to Task Force 141 as their base doctor, having no experience in the field you remained back in HQ until they came back from deployment. You quickly realized they didn’t fully trust you as a doctor, whether it was due to your civilian background or a misjudgement of your abilities, you never knew and frankly you didn’t want to. You tried not to be a bother, you knew their job was hard as it was, so you tried a friendlier approach, making sure to try and interact with them if even at a minimum.

Instead, you were faced with a hard cold truth, one that you hoped had vanished with a few friendlier words in your direction… you weren’t wanted.

Time seemed to move slower as the last few minutes replayed in your mind.

The guys were sharing a much needed drink after a rather difficult mission. Letting the façade fall down for a bit, the whiskey loosening tongues and bringing to the surface feelings that could no longer be held down.

You were walking down the hallway that led to Price’s office, a bit of a pep to your walk and a container of baked goods in one hand and the files that needed his signature on the other. You knew they’d be a bit peckish after their mission so you thought ahead and brought some pastries that you knew they liked, even though Simon always said that those were more sugar than bread. In an instant the door to the Captain's office was at reach so you balanced the files over the container.

-She’s jus so fecking annoying, y’know ?-

You stopped right when you were about to knock on the door, hand midair.

-I ge’ tha’ we’re suppose to get along seein tha shes the fecking doctor-

What? Your breathing stopped and your body shivered

-Bu’ I jus can’t seem to tolerate’ er- the voices seemed a bit muffled by the closed door but still the volume was loud enough for you to hear… Listening as you stood there frozen, wishing that you couldn’t.

-C’mon Johnny, she can be a bi’ annoying, sure.- Ouch

-Bu’ she does ‘er job properly and at the end o’ the day, tha’s why she’s ‘ere fo’. -

Kyle seemed to try and reason with him but even his own voice sounded strained.

The beating of your heart going wild with every second that passed, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. They couldn’t refer to you right? Maybe, maybe it was someone else on their mission…

-Y/N does a good job, lads.- That’s the captain’s voice… Fuck…

-I get tha’, is jus… she keeps sticking t’ us like feckin glue everywhere we go- Oh no…

The tears were freely flowing now, not wanting to believe what you were hearing, sure you weren’t the most serious person but you never thought that would be a problem, specially after everything you’ve done with and for them.

-Maybe you’ should stop inviting ‘er everywhere with us then-

-Is no’ like I want to, Lt. Bu’ she jus… pops ‘ere everytime I try and talk to all o’ you .-

“Maybe I should go… But… my legs are not moving”

-S’ your fault for flirting wi’ er when she came roun’ the firs time- Kyle was annoyed, months of interaction helping you to recognize the tone in their voices.

-Y’kno tha’ he does tha’ to everyone.- Simon sounded so sincere that you couldn’t help to feel stupid, as if you were just a joke. Another one of the bunch…

-Lads, c’mon… She’s jus’ doin her job- Price was tired and he could already feel a headache starting to form in the back of his head.

-She’s a nice girl, ‘sides you kno’ tha’ i couldn’ stop Laswell for saddling ‘er with us-

That was it, you never thought that they didn’t want you. They were a bit standoff-ish in the first few weeks or so but that was because they didn't know you… right? They were a tight-knit group, it was perfectly natural to not trust an outsider with their health, right?

They became friendlier in the last weeks, actually letting you patch them up rather than doing it themselves when you weren’t in the med bay. The first one that apparently seemed friendly to you was Johnny, making you blush with his flirtatious ways but at least making you glad that he was starting to open up a bit, Kyle and Price being a bit on the quiet side but at least no longer just completely silent while you fixed them up and Simon… well he was still not talking to you or acknowledging you.

Knowing that all of your efforts were for nothing made you feel useless, it had nothing to do with your job, you knew you were good otherwise you wouldn’t have been assigned to the 141.

So with a deep breath and a new goal in mind, you turned away and left files in one hand and a slightly crushed box of pastries.

“In the madness and soil, of that sad earthly scene”

You didn’t sleep a wink since that moment, pouring yourself over the medical files that needed your approval for final submission.

You were so deep in thought, that you didn’t hear the knocks at your door, only looking up when you heard a cough to get your attention.

There stood your captain, looking very tired and you already could see the headache seeping into his usual calm demeanor.

The urge to offer him a tea cup or a mild remedy for his head crossed your mind, he looked really tired but after what you heard last night you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

- Is there something you needed, captain?- your voice came out a little bit tired and sharper than usual, something that didn’t went unnoticed by the captain

-Yeah, kid. The reports from the last mission, do you have’ em?- He narrowed his eyes a bit at you, as if trying to figure out what happened.

-Sure, let me get them for you- you stood up and moved to the cabinet next to your desk, there you took them off next to where the box of pastries remained intact and went ahead to give the to the captain.

- Here, all of the medical procedures and recent injuries are already stated. All they need is your approval so your medical history can be updated in due course-

You handed him the files and turned to look at him, his face was a mix of confusion and slight annoyance. This side of you was new to him and he didn’t quite like it, where once you were all smiles and cheerful disposition now stood a sad look and a blank face, as if the very sunshine was taken from you.

-Is everything all righ’, kid?- he found himself asking, you sighed loudly and headed back to your desk.

-Don’t worry about me, captain. Is just a rough patch, that’s all- You sat down and started to go over the files laid out before you.

-Alrigh’, if you need anything…- he watched you for a few seconds and then turned away and left.

A sour mood was felt across the base and from the interaction each of them had with you over the course of the week … there was definitely something wrong.

Johnny tried flirting with you, but instead of being all giggles and blushing mess you just looked at him with a tight lip smile and continued as if he never talked to you, even when Kyle came in to your office for a quick fix up of his most recent stitches you remained completely silent, only talking to give him instructions on how to take care of his injuries and when to take his pain meds. Price’s office was a bit quieter than usual, without your usual self trying to warm up to him with an equally warm cup of tea or coffee in hand to help him through his headaches, even Simon felt the shift in your behavior, when crossing in the hallways or the break room being greeted with nothing more than a call of his rank and quickly leaving.

The boys went into the cafeteria that same week and were surprised to see that while to the other soldiers you were still friendly and smiley, to them you were nonchalant and seemed almost way too professional. And that was upsetting everyone, so when you finished your lunch and went back to your office, files and coffee in hand they all decided that enough was enough.

You hadn't even finished entering your office when the four men burst in right behind you. You turned around with a scared look and a squeak of surprise at the sudden intrusion, the coffee almost falling from your grip and the files clutched to your chest. The boys all looked at you with a mix of annoyance and betrayal and you felt small, very very small.

-What the hell is wrong with you?- your voice was a bit raised from the fright you were still recovering from, as you walked to your desk to leave the files and the coffee, Johnny spoke up.

-Us? Wha’ e’ ‘ell is wrong wit you?- You turned around with a very deep frown etched into your face.

-What are you talking about? You’re the ones that burst into my office like a pack of wild animals.- A very annoyed Johnny stepped right up until he was face to face with you.

-Johnny calm down, mate.- Gaz’s voice was heard over Johnny’s loud breathing.

-No, no’ until she’s told us jus’ wha’ in the living fuck is wrong- His voice was dangerously low, and it was fucking terrifying.

-First of, back the fuck off, sargeant. I may be just a bloody fucking nuisance but i’m a doctor and I will break every bone in your body while naming them- A surprised look flashed through everyone’s faces, you’ve never talked to them like that before, and when Johnny didn’t seem to back off, you pushed with all your might and managed to make him to stumble back a bit.

At that moment Ghost approached him and held him before he could fall, but the look he gave you, was right down murderous. A chill ran down your spine and your instincts screamed at you to run but your legs didn’t seem to work. Price at seeing the angry look on both of your faces quickly stood in front of everyone and yelled at both of you to cut it out.

-Y/LN, you’ll apologize this instant or you’ll be subject to a reprimand for assaulting a ranking officer.- Price knew at the moment those words left his lips… he’d fucked up.

-Excuse me?- You turned to look at him, furious. The nerve of these men…

-You think that you can burst into my office, to then demand an answer for which I do not know the fucking question to and THEN reprimand me for protecting myself against a man that got way into my personal space?-

Your voice was raised, you were very very pissed off and the boys knew it, they knew they weren’t the best when it came to you, almost neglecting your care due to years and years of trust issues. They knew it wasn’t fair to you, but still when the only ones taking care of them were themselves, they just couldn’t trust you completely.

- I have tried SO hard to have you guys to trust me, GOD KNOWS I’VE TRIED and you won’t let me.- You felt the tears well up in the corners of your eyes and the faces of shock in the squad just made you feel worse.

You hated yourself for crying, but the anger in you, the betrayal and the sadness were all out there now, so might as well just tell them everything.

-I know I’m pathetic to you, I know that you think I’m… how you put it, Sergeant MacTavish?- At the mention of his name he looked up at you - “so fucking annoying”, I think was the term used.- His eyes widened, he knew exactly what you were talking about and the others seemed to remember the conversation they had a few days prior.

-You’ eard o’r conversation?- Gaz seemed a bit angry and confused, how the hell could you have heard them if you weren’t supposed to be in the building.

-Yes… I know it was wrong… I needed the captain’s signature on all of your files so your medical records could be updated..- The realization dawned on the captain, that’s why you were so down the next day… You heard everything.

- But… I guess it was ultimately for the best- Your voice a whisper as you looked at them.

-If you’re that unsatisfied with my care, I’ll ask the brass for a transfer.- The determined look on your face was like a slap in their faces, you were really going to leave them. They needed to fix this but neither of them said anything, you took a deep breath and left the office, leaving the four men standing dumbfounded in your office.

“What in the actual fuck just happened?” a thought, accompanied with the memory of utter anger and sadness in your face that will hunt the squad for the rest of their lives.

They needed to fix it… soon.

“Only then I am human, only then I am clean”

SOOOOOOO this was my first piece, i'm really sorry if it’s not the best so please forgive me jajaja.

If you liked it please like and reblog, I would like to keep writing and knowing you like it will make me very happy.

Jejejeje feedback is appreciated <3

#cod x reader #john price x reader #tf 141 x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #chubby!reader #medic!reader #ghost x reader #soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x reader #john price #johnny mactavish #cod fanfic #call of duty

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hitoshiyoshi · 2 years

Text

brat | shinsou hitoshi

synopsis ↬ shinso gets a bit jealous when you get close with one of his friends

warnings ↬ pseudocest, dub-con, swearing, manipulation, shinso is aizawa's son, you live with them but shinso sees you as his sister although you are NOT related, kaminari denki slander, your parents were heroes who passed, shinso and the reader play the doctor game, shinso and the reader are both about 20 but shinso is older, she/her pronouns for the reader, virgin kink, slight humiliation kink, use of 'girl' and 'doll' when addressing the reader, unprotected s*x, fingering, cr3ampie, slight overstimulation, 0ral (receiving), slut shaming, if you notice some things that don’t make sense it’s poor editing, I changed the story last minute and i’m sorry, let me know if i missed something

pairing ↬ shinsou hitoshi x fem!reader

word count ↬ 6.4k

kinktober week one

Shinso’s eyes glanced over your frame, watching you twiddle the pads of your fingers. Standing by the kitchen counter with your mobile loosely hanging from your hands, a laugh echoed throughout the home every couple of minutes. The ticking of the analog clock furthered his frustration; he’d been counting every second. Time seemed to pass at a dreadfully slow pace and, for eons, he waited for you to finish.

He knew who was the keeper of your time, fucking Denki, his coworker at a hero agency they both worked for. It only took one encounter at the entrance of the agency's building for him to capture your attention. Shinso could not fathom why you had any interest in him with the blonde’s undying persistence to establish a friendship with you.

Sitting on the worn-out sofa of his father’s home, he waited as patiently as he could. The show on the large flat-screen TV had no longer sparked his interest. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from your back as his chest tightened and his heart swelled with jealousy. Resisting his urge to grip the phone from your hands, he waited. Questioning whether it was worth it to tell father about your latest interaction with Denki, knowing very well that he wouldn’t be happy. Shinsou could still remember the day his father, Aizawa Shouta, introduced you to him.

It was a long afternoon filled with Aizawa trying to convince you to live with him and his son. The sudden death of your parents only a few hours prior left the man feeling sympathetic for you. They were pro-heroes and two of his dearest friends; another loss he would have to cope with. Making a promise to himself that you wouldn’t have the same unfortunate outcome, he asked if you would move in with him. Although you were old enough to survive on your own, his persistence left you with few options. He never left your side until you agreed.

The rest of the night was spent preparing his house for your comfort. Aizawa helped you move all your essentials from your previous home into the one he shared with Shinsou and even allowed you to sleep in his bedroom until he finished designing your own. He always doted on you in a loving manner, giving you extra attention while never being afraid to act as a parental figure when you needed him. You didn’t mind Shinsou’s overly affectionate demeanor, thinking he was excited about having a new little ‘sibling’ to fawn over. Soon, referring to each other as ‘brotherly’ or ‘sisterly’ names. This continued for months, concerning Aizawa who thought this would hinder your grieving. He was certain this was Shinsou’s doing.

Lost in his thoughts, Shinso failed to hear the endearing “goodbye” you said while ending the phone call. Clutching it to your chest and hiding the screen from Shinso’s view, you sauntered to a seat beside him on the couch, hardly noticing his gaze on your figure as you strode over. You placed your phone on the coffee table in front of him and focused your attention on the boring show, softly humming to the tune of your favorite song. Shinso briefly cleared his throat before engaging in a conversation with you.

“Who was that?” He asked as his ears peaked in your direction as he waited for a response. The attention given to him was lackluster compared to what he truly wanted.

“Just a friend.” A sigh escaped your pouty lips, and you prepared for another pestering.

“I didn’t know you were friends with Denki.” Shinso scoffed before folding his arms and resting his back against the cushion.

“I can be friends with whoever I want to… besides, he’s a nice guy.” You played with the fabric of your skirt that rode more than halfway up your thighs. Secretly, you wanted him to continue; he could never know this, but each time his voice raised, a sharp chill traveled through your spine and tingled your pearl. Your head tilted backward on the couch, mirroring his position, you seemed too agitated to continue the conversation.

He glanced at your body, thoughts of Denki’s devilish hands grasping onto the last bit of your innocence made his blood boil. You had to be a virgin, he was sure. Shinso always followed any male that managed to befriend you and basked in your depressive state when you revealed your new male friend had disappeared. Always giving them a strict warning, even using his quirk when necessary, just to preserve your purity. How could he live knowing that Denki was the lucky bastard to take his your virginity? Today was the day. He needed to do something.

“I know that… but you need to stop talking to him,” Shinso replied, eyeing you up and furrowing his eyebrows.

“And why should I do that?” You returned his gaze, trying to seem pitiful to lure the male’s attention away from you. However, Shinso was smart enough to see through your tricks.

“Because I said so…” He replied back to you, and before you had any more time to protest, he tried to end the conversation before another argument followed. “If I see you talking to him again, you won’t like it.” The weak threat flew over your ditzy head and you smirked up at him in an unfazed manner.

“Are you serious?” You scoffed. Shinso was not amused by your antics.

“I wasn’t asking, I’m telling you.” You seemed to shrink as he continued to speak. His body loomed over yours, commanding your attention and seizing authority over you. His voice, deep and domineering, causes you to freeze on the couch for a few seconds as you feel blood rush to your core. Unfortunately, just as his aching heart consumed his entire spirit, your ego had grown in abundance, and you were no longer scared of the man sitting adjacent to you.

“You know,” You started as your index finger pressed into your jaw to tease the elder, your eyelashes innocently batting at the male. “I forgot to tell Denki something. Do you mind if I call him again?” Your hand reached for the shiny mobile, gripping the plastic case and unlocking the phone. Once opened, Shinso’s hand found its way to your wrists, grasping you tightly as a warning. You mewled at the sudden pressure on your weak bones as his fingernails left indents on your skin. “W- What are you doing?”

His hands, much larger than yours, pried the phone out of your hands as you watched on, too dazed to process his actions. Shinso held the phone away from you, watching as you continued protesting and grabbing at his hands. The screen, still open, showed Denki’s contact and phone number. He couldn’t help but grimace and felt a sudden churn in his stomach. The blonde’s annoying presence and dopey demeanor were not much of a prize. You clawed at his body until he gripped your shoulder and pushed your body away.

“Delete his number or I’m telling Dad.” His voice was stern. You were no match to him. If you fought, you knew who the winner would be; so you succumbed to his wish. You weren't sure if he would do this, but he always threatened to use his quirk if you acted up – perhaps you should take his proposals more seriously.

“Fine. Give it back,” You extended your forearm towards him, patiently waiting for the elder to return it. Before the casing touched your hand, he remembered. Perhaps this was his last chance, otherwise, he would have to wait for an eternity. This was his chance to do something. When his hands didn’t faze and his eyes seemed lost in thought, you spoke. Shinso glanced between the phone and the impatient woman in front of him.

“Actually, I think I’ll hold onto this.” He slipped the phone inside his pocket before facing your visibly confused face.

“But you just said you would give it back,” You tried reaching for the phone once more, but you failed. You relaxed on the couch and scowled at your his antics.

“I will, but you need to earn it back,” Shinso responded sternly, only worsening your anger. He wished he could feel any sense of remorse, but none would arise. For a few moments, his mind would linger on moral thoughts which were quickly diminished by his devilish desires. Shinso weakly gulped, trying to clear his head and the demons that convinced him to sin. Alas, it was too late as his weak mind succumbed to you. “Let’s play a game.”

“A game? Which game?” You almost couldn’t believe your ears. Of course, you weren't deterred by the idea.

“Don't worry, it's fun.” You fluttered your doll eyes towards your brother. You're so innocent. “Don’t tell Dad, though,” He couldn’t imagine the scrutiny Aizawa would give if he found out about his son’s perversion.

“Fine, I’ll play. What is it?”

“Do you know that doctor game?” Shinso watched as you nodded to his question. He hesitated to continue. “Why don’t we play that game?” Once again, you agreed. You weren't familiar with it, but it was only a light-hearted game, right?

“Y- Yeah, we can play.” Your cheeks felt intense warmth, an act your body would do upon feeling nervousness. “Um, how should we start?”

“Well…” Shinso’s hands guided themselves to the hem of your shirt as he spoke. “Let’s start here first.” He lifted the material upwards and past your arms and head. He could feel himself twitching at your beige brassiere that cradled your ample breasts. As he discarded the shirt elsewhere in the room and inched his body closer to yours, you could feel his stare on your body and instinctively covered your chest.

“Shinsou, don’t stare.” Your fragile voice caused Shinso to spur with uncontrollable desire. He adored it.

“Don’t get shy in front of me. I won’t bite.” He pulled down at your arms and embraced your body briefly, unclasping your bra before tossing it in a pile with your shirt.

You quivered at the sudden sharp coldness of the air, desperately wanting to cover yourself. He tugged at your arms, pulling them to your side. You weren’t sure why he was doing this, wanting to stop and retreat to your bedroom. Lowering your head, you wrapped your arms around your waist, cowering in front of him with tears of humiliation threatening to spill from your eyes. The air of innocence was replaced by a noticeable lust. You watched his eyes examine the upper half of your body.

His cold hands reached for your chest before massaging your mounds delicately. Shinso’s hands now engulfed your chest as his thumbs rubbed into the skin on your nipples. You let out a muffled yet loud moan at the foreign sensation unable to deny that your body loved his pleasant touches.

You sank your teeth into your bottom lip until a metallic taste touched your tongue. Watching you shiver on the couch, Shinso chucked to himself quietly — you submitted to him easier than he expected. At least put up a fight next time. One thing he didn’t enjoy, however, was your quiet demeanor; you made sure to stay silent during the whole ordeal.

Lowering his head until his mouth hovered over your exposed chest, kissing the skin, biting and suckling to leave his mark. Your hands moved away from your waist to push against his chest, yet, he wouldn’t budge. Once satisfied, he wrapped his mouth around your hardening buds, making you shudder in his hold. Another whine escaped your lips, you tried to hold back, but as you felt his teeth sink into your perky nipples, a loud wince echoed through the room again.

“Mm~ Sh- Shinsou— what are you doing?” You could barely form the sentences from your mouth as moans managed to slip through your words. Grazing his teeth on your buds as they hardened under his warm tongue. Flicking the skin before sinking his mouth deeper, leaving marks his father would surely ask about. God, his mouth hungrily lapped the nub as wet sounds and high-pitched moans drowned out the noise of the television.

Shinso ignored your question, too drunk on the feeling of your plush skin against his tongue. Alternating between each of your breasts until he was satisfied with the bites and marks on your skin, the squeals from your mouth only coaxed him to continue. His arms firmly wrapped around your waist and back, pulling you closer to his mouth. Your legs clenched firmly together with each pulse and wave of pleasure rocking your core repeatedly. Hands moving from your body to his shoulders pulled him closer, needing to feel his body — his warm and soft skin — against your own. Feeling his own orgasm approach embarrassingly fast as he gently rocked his hardened cock into your thigh, he pulled away.

Panting, you had no time to calm your body as his lips collided with yours. Shinso’s tongue moved in the same way against your buds. Licking your lips and asking, no, pleading for your to allow him entrance, you eagerly complied. The feeling of his body against yours, pulling you deeper to him, almost as if he was too scared to have you run away.

This is wrong, and you knew it, but your arms refused to push him away — only accepting his embrace into yours. His kisses electrified a part of you that had been hidden for years. You did not want it, yet your body began enjoying it. Moaning into his mouth, you could feel his body tense up at the slight movements your body made.

Pulling away briefly from the kiss as a string of your mixed saliva disconnected, his attacks moved to your neck and collar. This time his kisses were gentle; he didn’t want you to have to face his father and explain where the marks originated. Although he adored you, Aizawa sensed something was in the air between you two. It left an uneasy feeling as he watched his son’s behavior change around your presence. Shinsou dreaded the thought of you two separating. What would happen then?

Inhaling and caressing your soft and supple skin, he realized that he needed more. Firm hands digging at his shoulders broke him from the spell as you were also free from your drunken state.

“S- Shinso… stop… this isn’t right,” His arms tightened around your body as he heard you speak. What do you mean this isn’t right? Always self-centered, you could not please him for once in your life. “Not like this…”

“Not like this, huh?” He said, inhaling your intoxicating scent as his face nestled in the crook of your shoulder. “Then what shall we do..?” Shinso finally removed himself from your body, although still holding on. “Look at these pretty marks I made. It would be a shame if they were wasted.” He traced the bruises and bites on your skin as your body trembled in fear. “Father wouldn’t be too pleased to see these. It would be unfortunate if he learned about your adventures with Denki.” Your eyes widened in fear. Although he was the one marking you, he would be the one to snitch on you.

“B- But you’re lying! I haven’t done anything with him…” Honestly, you weren’t sure about his reaction, or whether he would even care. You only knew that he was extremely overprotective and critical of any lover you brought home.

“Shall we call him and find out?” Shinso taunted as a sadistic smirk etched across his lips when he noticed you cowering underneath him.

“No…”

“Then listen to your big brother. I can make you feel good.” He gently pulled you up and off the couch, guiding you to his bedroom. Your legs felt heavy as if they were too scared to move to your forbidden destination. His fingers soothed your trembling arms causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. Again, he let out a sickening chuckle.

His room, small yet tidy, seemed to feel like a prison. Shinso guides you to his bed as you inhale the faint scent of lavender coming from his clean bedsheets. You failed to notice your shirt and brassier in one of his hands as he chucks the materials away in a pile of clothes in his room — you won’t see that bra again. The cold air causes your nipples to harden almost instantly as he urges you to sit on his bed.

“W- Why do you want to do this, Shinso?” If only you knew about the twitch in his tight pants each time you said his name. Thank god you were too innocent to notice the bulge in his sweatpants.

“This is your fault. I wouldn’t do this if you behaved… you need to remember your place.” Your place? There was not enough time to think as you felt his hands tug down your denim skirt until it reached the ground and pooled around your ankles. His hands caressed your exposed thighs as he watched you shiver on his duvet. “Lay down on the bed. I’ll help you warm up.”

You listened, unconsciously spreading your legs as you lay on his comfy mattress. The aroma of his room seemed to cast away your anxiety, but only for a brief moment. Shinso’s eyes greedily examined the damp spot in your lace underwear, reminding you that your body was still on full display for him to see. His fingers reached down and danced around the lace whilst his body eased closer to your frame. Both of his knees caged your body as he lifted your thighs upwards. Finally, as he thumbed over your sensitive clit, a gasp escaped your mouth feeling him rub circles into your sex. Perhaps he was too eager, after a few seconds of teasing, he quickly tore off the clothing before placing it elsewhere in his room.

“Look at you… look at how wet you are.” His fingers traced around your labia, collecting the clear essence from your slick and bringing it up to your eyes. Your face heated up fast. He was taunting you. “Hmm… What do we do about this, (Y/N)? My sister is a slut for her own brother’s cock. What a pity…”

“B- But… we aren’t related— and I’m not a s- slut…” Covering your face in the palm of your hands, you tried to cling to the last bit of denial you had. You two weren't even related by blood. Each time you reminded him, he would dismiss you.

“Oh? Then what’s this?” He brought the nectar from your slick up close and played with it along his fingers. Soon, he retracted his hands and suckled on his fingers as he savored the taste. Spreading your legs further apart, he examined the liquid that oozed out of your core, begging to be fucked. “Only sluts get excited when their brother does this.”

Soon, he presses his thumb onto the hood of your clit and gives the bud a few rubs. His index and middle finger graze against your folds, earning a suppressed gasp from your lips. Dancing around your opening, his fingers prodded around your tight hole. Eagerly quickening the pace of his fingers, he felt your wet opening ooze clear liquid and cover his thick fingers.

Your moans and his dampening skin urged him to breach your virgin walls; Shinso wanted to be patient, he really did, but it was wearing thin. Dipping into your core, you convulsed in pain as you felt one of his fingers explore. Watching you tremble, he caressed the smooth skin on your thighs to help you relax; see, he wasn’t heartless.

A burning sensation in the pit of your stomach replaced the pleasure given to your clit. You couldn’t bite your tongue to stop the noises from echoing in his bedroom, loud moans and shaky breaths bounced off the thin walls. Secretly, he always dreamed of the day this room would be occupied with it. Another gasp escaped your mouth as you clenched tightly around a second digit entering you, stretching your walls, and prepping you. The sickening squelching sounds harmoniously played with your moans, music to Shinso’s ears.

Pleasure finally began to cloud your foggy mind as you clenched harder around his two fingers and your pained mewls began to dissipate. He leaned down and kissed your thighs to coax your body into a release. Dancing around a spot that made you shudder, his fingers molded perfectly into your opening. A wave of intense bliss covered your lower half. You could feel him smirking against your skin; you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

“It’s alright, babygirl… let it all out for me…” Shinso whispered into your skin. Your hands claw at his sheets, searching for something to grab, anything. Arching your back against the sheets while your eyelids clench shut, you can finally feel a sweet rush of pleasure.

“Mmph!~ Oh… No… S- Shinso…!” Your walls spasmed and convulsed around his fingers as somewhat pleasant-sounding moans erupted from your vocal cords. The warm feeling at the pit of your tummy finally releases as you feel his fingers coat in a hot sticky substance. Essence covering his digits, he could feel himself aching in his sweatpants.

“That’s it… such a good girl,” Pulling away from your thighs, he slowly removed his fingers. Leaving you empty for a few seconds, his head disappeared between your legs. Shinso’s warm tongue greedily licked your nectar as it trickled down your crevice and seeped into his bedsheets.

“Mmmh~ Ah…! W- Wait..!” As your fingers pulled and ran through his thick locks of hair, he pinned your body tightly to the mattress. Shinso released a hum as his nails dug into your hips. It was too much, his tongue would graze over your sensitive bud as your moans became noisier.

Once satisfied, he pulled his head away from your panting body. His lips were covered in the same essence that filled your slick. He licked them once more as he smirked down at you. Tugging at the hem of his shirt, he tore the fabric off his body before briefly moving off the bed to discard his sweatpants. You couldn't help but peer down at him and glance at his stiffened member.

Trimmed violet hair covered the base. What he lacked in girth was generously replaced by his length. The red tip oozed with clear pre-cum. He couldn't wait anymore. Another deep yet warm chuckle caused a tingle in your fragile core. Shinso watched as your hands covered your hot face. How cute!

"Just relax," He purred softly while wrapping his fingers around your wrists and gently moving your hands away. Shinso didn't know the sight of you being so vulnerable and untouched would excite him this much. He knew that by the end of this session, you would finally learn to obey. "Is Kitten scared? I told you I wouldn't bite." He leaned down until your faces were only inches apart and left a chaste but loving kiss on your lips. Remnants of your nectar managed to seep onto your tongue.

"'m not scared..." What a fucking liar. You aren't scared, but as his arm rests next to your head, you're trembling. You aren't scared, but as his other hand pumps his length and his sticky pre-cum leaks between your legs and mixes with yours, you're intoxicated. The lavender aroma of his room fills your lungs once more and makes your mind hazy.

He teasingly laughs at your demeanor as he pulls away from your body. Shinso didn't want you to be scared of him. He was already used to that feeling from his old classmates and civilians. It would've pained him if he frightened you. That wasn't the point of this. He could humiliate you endlessly for doing this, but he was worse than you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you watch as he positions himself at your entrance.

"Don't worry, doll. This won't hurt too bad... as long as you obey..." Of course, he knew you had no choice but to obey. Rubbing the tip along your folds, he watched as he started to glisten in a clear mixture of your mess.

As you peered up at him, you were greeted with his indigo eyes staring down at you. They set your body in a trance, a warm and inviting gaze cast down upon you. Did it still feel wrong? Mesmerized by his beauty, you were too distracted to notice him gently pushing his length inside.

Filling you up inch by inch, sudden pressure and a burning sensation much worse than his fingers broke you. You sharply inhaled while your brother released a low grunt and muttered some curses under his breath. As his eyes fluttered and tightly closed with the sudden feeling of pleasure, you instinctively cupped his face while feeling tears swell up in your eyes.

"Shinso..." Gasping tightly as he finally sheathed deep inside your walls, you cradled his head in your hands. Your hold on his face tightened as you felt a sudden rush of foreign sensations. The lower half of your body became riddled with unbearable pain as you enveloped him. He must've noticed the furrowing of your eyebrows and the tears that threatened to spill because soon, he broke free from your hold and slipped into the crook of your shoulder.

Gently rocking his hips slowly, he tried to allow you to adjust and keep his composure. Shinso briefly wondered if he could succumb to his own satisfaction and release his frustrations on you. Bucking into you at a brutal pace until he finally reached the release he was desperately searching for. If it wasn't for your hushed whines, his patience would've run thin. God, he wished he would've done this sooner. If he knew it would be this easy to claim you for his own, he would've tamed you a long time ago.

As time passed and you eased into his touches, his thrusts became more energetic. Nuzzling his face into your shoulder, it was a shame to admit that his low grunts and heavy breaths against your face began to excite you. The once painful thrusts inside your wet cavern had become a warm smoldering feeling as his length massaged your gummy walls. Whispering sweet nothings and nipping at the skin on your shoulder, Shinso didn't care if you two were caught; he'd gone too far. There was no returning to the way things were.

Lifting himself up the mattress, one of his hands grasped your inner thigh and spread your legs further until you felt his cock brush against a sensitive region. He could feel you throbbing around him and relished in your sounds of pure ecstasy.

"Denki could never fuck you like this, right?" Shinso said as his eyes darkened, saying his name made him sick. Once he felt your pussy flutter against his shaft, he knew he couldn't say the same for you.

"I- I don't-" He wouldn't let you finish before you felt his thick fingers wrap around your throat and forced your eyes open as oxygen escaped your lungs.

"God, I bet you wish it was him fucking you... hmm?" His thrusts began to slowly come to a halt. He rolled his hips agonizingly slow as his tip grazed your spot continuously.

"Sh- Shinso... it hurts... I can't-" Immediately, his grip loosened as you huffed deep breaths. Still holding onto your neck, he tilted your head and locked your jaw in place to prevent you from moving. Your hands went to his wrist as you tried to scratch at him and pull him away, but he wouldn't budge.

"I've been waiting for so long, but I won't let that fucker touch you." He bit his tongue and held his hips back from pounding you into the mattress. Shinso just wanted to cum, and flood your walls with his seed — the most ungodly thing he could do. He edged against your spot more, coaxing you further into another orgasm. He watched as your back slightly arched into the mattress while you tugged at his duvet. With each roll of his hips, yours would press down against him, chasing a climax. "You're so pathetic, really."

"No... hnng~ I- I'm not..." You barely managed to choke those words out.

"Oh..? But you couldn't take your eyes off of him when you two met last week..." Shinso recalled your meeting with Denki in front of their agency only a few weeks ago. Like you, the words and his memory seemed stuck in his throat.

"Shinso-nii, I- I don't like him..." He tilted your face until you two were at eye level.

"Don't fucking call me that right now." He sighed and paused before continuing, "I saw it last night." His hips finally stilled as his nails left a stinging pain in your thigh and indents on your skin.

"W- What?" He watched you nervously gulp and stare fearfully at him. Don't act innocently when your face gives you away.

"You..." A headache erupted as he recalled the previous night. "You gave him a great show last night. Topless. Tell me, was it fun? I heard him, loud as a fucking dog." Fuck. He heard everything? Your mind was blank. You could remember video-calling Denki. He said he just wanted to see you, one thing led to another... and...

"Toshi... I'm so sorry..! I- I didn't mean to... he just said he wanted to see me... please don't tell him..!" Toshi, you only called him that whenever you apologized. Tears cascaded from your eyes. You were truly sorry. He succeeded in breaking you. You pulled him closer to you, almost making him tumble. The sudden friction reminded him of his aching cock nearly spilling inside you. He needed to hurry.

"Don't apologize to me. Father heard it too. You're a shame to our family." His words stung like daggers, piercing your fragile heart, but he was right. More water leaked from your reddening eyes, and he reached down and coddled you. "What if he shows those pictures to his friends? People already avoid me. Now they'll laugh at me for having a slutty sister. You want that to happen to your big brother?"

"No... I don't want that to happen to you, Hitoshi... I'm so sorry..." Your arms still wrapped around his shoulders tightly, too scared to let him go. He caressed your arm and cooed his words into your ear.

"I know you're sorry... but you need to prove it to me." Your ears perked up as you stared at him, excited yet confused. "I can protect you. Just submit to me, obey me." He kissed the underside of your jaw, expecting you to deny him again. "Only look at me, nobody else... Please, don't leave me. Let me take care of you. Let me love you... I can do it. Just give me a chance." The tone of his voice raised as he finished his sentence. He was pleading with you.

"O- Okay, Toshi... I'll listen, I promise..." He smiled into your skin, not a teasing smirk but genuine happiness. Overjoyed, he couldn't stop his hips from rutting into your pussy again, catching you off-guard.

His thrusts were much sloppier. He'd been drawing near this whole time but suppressed it. Shinso pulled your body closer as your legs wrapped around his waist. Nearly lifting you off his bed, you could feel him enter you with each thrust, quicker than before, and graze against your tender spot again.

The sounds of your mixed juices, smacking flesh, and the smell of sweaty bodies bounced off the walls in his room. The walls were so thin that anybody could hear; your loud and high-pitched moans were surely heard by passersby and neighbors. He guides one of his hands down to your clit, rubbing vigorous circles on your sex and coating his fingers.

"Hmmf~, oh my-... I- I'm so... close..." Your fingers intertwined with his thick indigo hair as your nails scratched his back. "k- keep going... gosh, you're so good... Toshi-nii..." Murmuring endless praises and words of affection into his ear, he could feel himself becoming undone with every twitch and throb of your soft walls. "I... f- fuck... I think... ah~!"

Convulsing in his arms as you clenched tightly around him, Shinso felt your warm liquid creaming around his shaft as he pounded into your dripping cunt. Your spasming walls drew him closer and closer to his own release. Patting his head and repeating countless affirmations of your love for him, you felt him twitch inside you a few times as his breathing heavied. "you feel so good in me, toshi-nii" "please cum inside me, my pussy wants it inside..."

What kind of brother would he be if he didn't oblige your wishes? Harshly gripping your hips and sinking his teeth into your neck, you felt him release another pained yet loud groan as he inhaled your scent. Sinking your hips down to bury deep inside your walls, you felt his body quiver above you. His essence painted your insides white, milking him of all his cum until he was empty. Huffing and puffing, his body fell forward on your chest while you continued to hold him tight.

"Fuck... you're so amazing, kitten..." Once he regained some strength, he caressed your warm cheeks before leaning down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss. Raising himself up, he slid out of your filled hole and watched as some of his cum oozed out. Shinso's tip still leaked thick drops of his creamy cum. "I love you so much, doll..."

"I love you too, Toshi..." You replied back to him. After catching your breath for a few seconds, you spoke again. "Won't I need to take medicine now?"

"Oh... you mean Plan B? I'll pick some up in the morning for you." This night was fun, but Shinso didn't want to imagine you pregnant. Aizawa wouldn’t let him live.

A sudden tap at the door broke Shinso from his long thoughts. Your eyes peered behind his frame in shock, catching a glimpse of his soul leaving his body as he soon followed suit and turned around.

"(Y/N)? Shinso...?" There he was, the very same man you owed a sincere apology to. Still in his hero attire, just returning from work and patrolling. His voice was quiet yet agitated, the same tone Shinso heard after your rendezvous with Denki.

You crawled towards Shinso's chest and hid your bare body away from Aizawa. It was too late. He saw everything he needed to see. Your naked body only confirmed his suspicions. This has to be a dream. It must be a dream. Aizawa blinked his eyes in an obnoxious pattern as if it would change any of the events in front of him. Father, I'm sorry, but this is real. He must've finally understood, his hand ran through his thick black hair as he sighed deeply and tried to repress the rage building up inside of him.

"Oh... you're home early." Shinso finally broke the silent tension in the air. He chuckles to himself before standing up from the mattress, not caring about his bare lower half. You scurried to cover yourself. It was already humiliating enough. "Can you pick up some Plan B tomorrow, Dad? We'll need a few."

He put on his sweatpants before reaching down to help you off the bed. Placing one of his old shirts on your body, he strode confidently to your father, who stood in disbelief.

"Shinso…" Aizawa began, but... what would he say? As the seconds passed at a dreadfully slow pace, he spoke. “You two fucked, didn’t you? Shit, I don’t even need to ask.”

“Yeah, we did…” He held onto you tightly, expecting his father to intervene and take you away, but his feet were still firm. He couldn't let that happen after he worked hard to claim you.

“Didn’t I tell you to wait for me first?”

“You know I hate sharing,” Shinsou helped you up off his bed. A damp stain of his cum sullied his clean sheets, the image only irritating his father more. “Besides, you always get to fuck who you want before me.”

His shoulder barged into his father, nearly knocking him off balance as he tried to reach for you. You peered back at him, his hand was still extended, but you kept walking. Shinso dragged you to the bathroom to clean up. He whispers something about the walls being echoey and tells you to scream loud until his father and the neighbors could hear. Aizawa watches as you nod eagerly and fade down the hallway into the bathroom.

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 1 month

Text

tuesday again 8/20/2024

a little light this week bc i had a fairly wretched week, medically speaking

listening

hozier's nobody's soldier would have been on every 8tracks mix for every character. THEEEEE blorbo song of all time to the point i am already annoyed at the thought of seeing it on every spotify mix. fuckin owns tho. very fun mod sixties heist taste to the horn arrangement

youtube

reading

thank you philip.

polished off the Marauders (2019-2022) comics. i liked the first volume way more than these three-- they didn't quite deliver the same quality of art or swashbuckles-per-minute. also this was probably not a great choice for someone who has forgotten what little she once knew about the xmen, even though they came at the beginning of a reboot.

why did i read these? mostly bc they were readily available or with short wait times at my library and my bestie is making me watch all the xmen movies. a girl gets curious about comic books sometimes

surprisingly, i came across this one from the Pocket integration on the firefox new tabs

McDonald likens the functions of Spotify to Google Maps. “Google Maps doesn’t do the exploration for me, but it’s helpful if I go somewhere,” he says. Rather than taking us on guided tours, it provides the tools for us to navigate somewhere new. Much as it shows us what’s nearby and how to get there, and flags notable landmarks others have visited, Spotify helps us access most music, lists global listening trends, and introduces us to artists similar to those we already know. But it’s communities that help us home in on a destination Spotify can help us explore.

part two of breaking down infamous academic paper mill Hindawi and why it was bought by Wiley anyway bc they did seemingly no due diligence, bc as a whole they do very little actual work in the publishing process.

i have included a very long quote bc it is one of only two things that made me genuinely laugh out loud this week (the other was phil unsticking a claw from the couch by backflipping herself out)

One issue of Wireless Communications and Mobile Computing from 2022, edited mostly by Hamurabi Gamboa Rosales, took an average of about 20 days to go from initial submission to revision submission. This is not unlikely, it’s impossible. The easiest way to explain this is with an analogy. Say there’s a pothole outside your house, and you call the council. You tell them ‘there’s a big hole in the road outside my house!’ The person at the other end, rather than tiredly telling you to fill out a form - which is what councils do all over the world, in my experience - instead yells ‘MOTHER OF GOD! WE’RE RIGHT ON IT!’ Twenty minutes later, a bitumen truck comes HURTLING around the corner of your street at full send, with the road workers hanging out the back of it, the driver leaning on the horn and yelling ‘GET OUT OF THE WAY! POTHOLE!’ They pull up outside your house, and you see the brakes go hot. But the guys don’t even wait for it to stop, they jump off while it’s slowing down, and they grab pry bars and a burner and a kettle of bitumen, and they start hammering out the edges, pour the bitumen and start slamming it with hammers almost at the same time. In about six minutes, the hole is filled and flattened, and they admire their work for about four hundred milliseconds and SCREAM off the way they came. No sooner has the truck disappeared, then your phone rings - and it’s the council worker from before. ‘POTHOLE! *pant* *pant* FIXED! Happy to be of service!’ *click* That’s how likely the entire editorial process taking 20 days is.

watching

i don't understand why the third xmen movie isn't named x cubed. it extremely is not their last stand there are like a dozen more movies to go. gun to my head i could not tell you what happened in this one. whatsherface did look good as hell though

and now for the movie i actually want to talk about, Monkey Man (2024, dir. Patel). imdb says:

An anonymous young man unleashes a campaign of vengeance against the corrupt leaders who murdered his mother and continue to systematically victimize the poor and powerless.

i am so so so lucky that my favorite kind of fight scene — fast, brutal, right spaces with improvised weapons-- is fashionable. pour it DIRECTLY into my open mouth

i think i generally agree with a broad sweep of reviewers here when i tell you that this movie is gorgeous and grossnasty at the same time, there are a lot of ideas that aren't all quite resolved, and i am much more interested in why it has a hell of a lot of ideas (part of why they don't all get resolved).

patel's first movie, it feels very much like a movie of someone who isn't sure they'll be able to do another one, so throw everything you've got in here. a sort of famously rocky production and shoestring budget, but you would not know it. the club scenes are especially dripping in glitz and, like many stage productions, have a lot of clever editing and strategic deployment of mirrors and repeats. there's a fight scene with hanging mirrors near the end where the mirrors can't have been more than fifty bucks each but it looks SO fucking sick.

i am much more willing to go to bat for this movie and ignore some of the rough edges bc it is so refreshingly earnest, and despite the style references, is very focused on being its own thing. at some points it's going to feel like The Matrix (1999, dir. the Wachowskis) bc every movie made in a post- The Matrix (1999, dir. the Wachowskis) world is going to feel a little bit like The Matrix (1999, dir. the Wachowskis). or like when the above gif happened in the movie it did not make me want to turn it off and go watch the first john wick.

people who live in india or are part of the diaspora are a little cranky about the political parties of the film, which had to be neutered for release. while i don't think i would have grasped all the nuances even if we did have the original cut, i think it's likely some of the characters would have resolved a little cleaner if that original intent was still there.

why did i watch this? i think patel is easily as hot as tumblr darling mifune. while drafting this post i got distracted sooooooo many times trying to pick the perfect gif. some of them are too hot!!!

playing

fallow week

making

just stayin alive! just livin the fuckin dream!!!

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

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friendliestanon · 2 months

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A quick description of each characters fight. I will be going into further detail in individual posts later on! (I will also edit these posts later as I’m on mobile and at work. So I’m very sorry that they’re ugly)

Bubble: the first enemy you come across. It serves as the tutorial to the basic movements. (Wasd, click, menu options ect). On rare occasions he will play the first couple of notes from “meglovania” instead of his own theme. Prompting Caine to burst in and pop him. Replacing him as the tutorial level.

Tutorial Caine: What it says on the box. This is a rare occurrence and a little Easter egg. Caine explains the keyboard movements, menu, ect.

Pomni: As the newest member she’s allowed to go first! However as the newest member she has zero clue what she’s doing. She kinda fumbles her whole fight and you can take an easy win! Don’t worry, if you want a real fight, you can come back later when she’s learned a few tricks.

Ragatha: A proper boss battle! Though she does go easy on you since you’re still learning the ropes. Some of her harder to dodge attacks will veer off just a little bit at the last second leaving you unscathed. She’s very proud of you for defeating her.

Gangle: The first the get different versions of her fight. You’ll be able to fight against her tragedy mask, and her comedy mask! Unlock the spare mask from Caines shop and gift it to her before her fight to unlock it. I’m sure she’d be grateful for the whole two minutes it lasts her!

Kinger: It’s supposed to be tough to beat him, but it seems like something is missing. Half of his attacks seem to be missing or only cover half the playing field. Half of the music just doesn’t exist? What is going on here?

Zooble: A difficult battle of mismatched and combined attacks. They can swap out random pieces and change the entire battle on the fly. They try not to be too interested in this whole boss fight thing. But even they can’t deny that it’s kinda fun to lob random @&$! at an Npc.

Jax: He does not go easy on you. He’s the whole reason this adventure exists so why should he? He gives it everything’s he’s got, anything and everything in his hammerspace is game. He has no idea how you were able to defeat him.

Caine: You made a grave mistake challenging the god of this digital hellscape.

#tadc #tadc au #tadbf #the amazing digital circus #amazing digital circus #Zooble #tadc caine #pomni #Jax #gangle #kinger #the amazing digital boss fight #Ragatha #bubble #fan game

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ironwoman359 · 15 days

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Our Own Villain Ch. 9

Prologue, Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7, Ch.8, Ch.9, Ch.10

Word Count: 5,570

Chapter Summary: Everything Roman has worked for threatens to crumble around him as Logan puts his plan to save his friends into motion.

Pairings: Logicality, could be read as romantic or platonic, platonic Moxiety

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, guilt, isolation and anger, overworking, fantasy violence, just generally unhealthy thought patterns going on for Roman.

Check the reblogs for a link to read on AO3!

AN: IT'S HERE! As always, I cannot post this story without acknowledging the incredible @theinvisiblespoon, who helped me edit this and resulted in over 400 extra words of flavor for this chapter. They're the absolute best! Also, shout out to @teacupfulofstarshine for helping me get over some writers block with a few of these passages, she's an absolute darling <3

— — —

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

The captain of the guard bowed low before Roman, a faint tremor in his posture betraying his nerves.

“I’ve had my men up all night, searching the city from top to bottom,” the captain continued, “but there’s been no sign of the fugitive.”

The man kept his head low, glancing tentatively up at Roman who paced back and forth across the floor of the throne room, arms crossed across his chest. He barely noticed the captain’s discomfort, lost entirely in thought.

Where could Logan be? There was no way he could have left the Imagination, so how had the guards not found him yet? Roman supposed he could have snuck out of the city somehow, but there was nothing for him out there but wilderness, and it was cruel, even for Logan, to run away without even trying to rescue Patton and Virgil. No, he had to be hidden somewhere, somewhere that he thought was clever enough to escape Roman’s notice.

“Keep searching, Captain,” he ordered. “He must be somewhere in the city. Perhaps he has enlisted the help of one of the townspeople and is being kept out of sight. Issue a decree that anyone found to be harboring criminals will face charges of treason. I want every-”

“Your Highness!” a new guard burst into the room, and Roman spun around with a glare.

“What is it now? Are you men so utterly incompetent that you’re incapable of following the most simple of commands? I said that I was not to be disturbed!”

“It’s just, your highness,” the guard stammered, cowering in the face of Roman’s rage. “There’s an attack at the gates–”

“What on earth makes you think I care about the gates right now?” Roman exclaimed. “There is a traitor loose in the city, corrupting the people and conspiring against me. Nothing at the gates could possibly be more important than finding–”

A roar pierced the air, and Roman went rigid, his hand automatically gripping the hilt of his sword.

“Dragon Witch,” he hissed, and the guard nodded frantically.

“She was spotted flying down from the mountains, your highness. The gate guard sent me to warn of her attack.”

Roman slammed his fist down on the table.

“Of course she would strike now, when we are distracted and unprepared. Captain, send criers through the streets to order your men to mobilize at the main gate. And bring me my armor! We must not let her take the city!”

The soldiers scrambled from the room, and for a moment, Roman stood alone. After everything he’d done, everything he’d worked for, he now was faced with this. His oldest and strongest enemy, coming to challenge him when he was at his weakest. Did she think he would simply cave before her might? He was Roman, Prince of the Imagination, Thomas’s Hero, the last bastion of goodness left for the entire mindscape. He wouldn’t be overthrown by a mere construct. He laughed to himself. No one was around to hear it.

The next several minutes were a flurry of activity, and soon Roman was on his horse, his silver breastplate glinting in the first red rays of sunrise poking over the horizon as he cantered through the city streets.

The thought of Logan somehow escaping the city during the battle briefly crossed his mind, but he pushed the idea away. They would find the logical side eventually; after all, there was nowhere for him to run.

Outside the city wall, the Dragon Witch let out another roar, and Roman urged his horse forward, drawing his sword.

Right now, Logan didn’t matter.

What did matter was making sure that his realm did not fall. He was Roman, Creativity, creator of this realm and Prince of the mindscape. He was a hero, the only hero Thomas had left after all the others had fallen prey to the wicked machinations of those accursed Dark Sides.

And nothing, not the others, not the Dragon Witch, nothing, was going to stand in his way.

— — —

Screams rang out through the streets as another of the Dragon Witch’s roars shook the city. Seth pressed himself up against the wall of the alleyway, peering out from behind a corner. The palace drawbridge lowered and Prince Roman and his guards in full armor appeared. The thunder of the horse’s hooves on the cobblestone and with the blare of the soldiers’ warhorns echoed all around Seth, and he ducked out of the way as the battalion rode past his hiding spot.

The market was quickly emptying as merchants and shoppers fled the streets, and he intended to take full advantage of the chaos. Now that he had secured a place by the square, he hoped to pilfer enough foodstuffs from the merchants to be set for at least a week. Seth waited until the last terrified shopkeeper had disappeared from sight, then he crept out from the alleyway into the square.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder and roughly pulled him back into the shadows. He spun with a cry, his fists up in an instant ready to strike, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who had attacked him.

“Maddie?”

“We had a deal, Seth,” the girl said, glaring at him.

“But I saw you…the Arachnids…”

“Show me the servant’s entrance, please,” Maddie interrupted, folding her arms.

“What, now? We’re in the middle of a siege! Come on, let’s comb through the market and see if we can get any–”

“Seth, if you don’t show me that servant’s entrance right now, I will ensure that you spend every waking moment for the rest of your life fighting tooth and nail for that market spot. I said it was yours once you showed me the entrance, and unless you take me right this second–”

“Okay, okay!” Seth said, raising his hands in surrender. “Sheesh, Maddie, what’s gotten into you?”

“It is vitally important that I gain access to the palace. The reason why doesn’t concern you,” Maddie said as Seth led her up the street towards the palace walls.

Luckily, the entire city guard had ridden out to the gates with the Prince to fight the Dragon Witch, and the barred gate where Seth met his contact on the palace staff stood unprotected.

“There’s a door on the other side of the garden that the servants use,” he said, pointing through the courtyard. “Though I don’t know why that would matter to you, it’s not like you could get in. There are easier places to steal food from, especially since the city is under attack right now?”

Maddie didn’t bother answering, she just pushed past him and pulled experimentally on the gate. It was locked and didn’t budge, but she didn’t seem put off by that fact.

“Thank you, Seth. Our deal is complete. The spot by the market is yours. Now, I suggest you take cover; as you so aptly pointed out, the city is under attack.”

“What about you?” Seth asked.

“I have something I need to do,” Maddie answered, pulling a small glass vial from her dress pocket. She uncorked the bottle and poured a few drops of its contents on the gate’s lock, and Seth stared in awe as the metal melted away like ice on a summer’s day.

“Now go,” Maddie ordered. “I’ll explain later…if we ever manage to resolve this whole ordeal.”

Part of Seth wanted to stay and see what on earth the girl was up to, but just then the very sky seemed to explode, bright purple lightning and blue streaks of light flashing all around as the ground shook. Seth became overwhelmed with nausea, and he fell to his knees, retching. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maddie still standing, seemingly unaffected by whatever strange spell had caused the world to fall apart around them. He tried to call out to her, but she slipped through the gate and disappeared into the palace grounds before he could force his mouth to form words.

As soon as it began, the lightning stopped, and after a moment of gasping, Seth regained his bearings. He looked at the open palace gate, but then another roar rang out, and he turned and ran back through the city towards his new market spot. Maybe after he scavenged what food he could, he’d risk the gangs and take cover in the sewers until this was all over. Whatever had Maddie acting all weird, he didn’t want to know about it. He’d have a hard enough time surviving the Red Sun as it was.

The Dragon Witch’s roar echoed through the streets and Seth stumbled as he skidded around a corner.

When would this madness end?

— — —

“Prince Roman!” the Dragon Witch called out, her voice reverberating through the city. “Show yourself and face me!”

She hurled a spell at the city walls, and they buckled and folded beneath the weight of her magic. She stretched out her wings and roared, the very sound of her fury sending a squad of guards who were approaching to draw back in fear. A few of the gate guards tried to stand their ground, but she batted them away easily with a swing of her tail.

Slowly, she stalked into the city, giving the peasants in the streets plenty of time to run screaming from her mighty presence. The slower and more dramatic she was in her approach, the more time it would give Prince Roman to muster his entire guard and ride out to face her.

After a few minutes of her lazy destruction, the sound of battle horns rang out in the distance, and the Dragon Witch smiled. Looking up, she caught sight of Prince Roman’s black and red banner fluttering in the breeze, signaling that her quarry was coming within her grasp.

“Ready, little hero?” she asked quietly. She felt the grip of the human sitting on her back tighten.

“As I’ll ever be,” came the answer, and the Dragon Witch chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” she reassured. “Just stick to the script we practiced and you’ll be fine.”

Prince Roman came into view then, and she had to give him credit where it was due. Even in this mindset, when the very fabric of her reality was changed because of his pain and anger and frustration, he was personally leading the charge against her. How many tyrant kings would send their armies out to die in a battle that they wouldn’t dare to risk themselves?

He wants so badly to be good, she thought as the prince stared up at her, his face twisted in a look of disgust. Not just good. Perfect. If only he could see the truth.

“So it comes down to this!” Roman called up in a loud, clear voice. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you capable of this level of betrayal, Logan.”

He spat the name out like it was poison, and the Dragon Witch felt her passenger tense.

You can do this, little hero, she thought. Save us all.

“Prince Roman!” Logan’s voice was firm and unwavering, and the Dragon Witch couldn’t help the small swell of pride she felt at the sound.

“Release your prisoners and surrender, or see your realm destroyed!”

— — —

Roman stared up in disbelief as the Dragon Witch sneered down at him. Of all the possible outcomes, of all the ways that he’d expected a confrontation with the last remaining free Light Side to go, he’d never expected this.

Logan sat on the Dragon Witch’s back, staring down at Roman with a determined expression on his face. He looked almost comical, in his simple polo shirt, tie, and glasses while riding atop such a majestic and mighty beast, but Roman wasn’t in the mood to find humor in the situation.

“Release my prisoners?” Roman repeated. “And why, exactly, would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, we will destroy the realm,” Logan repeated simply.

“If you think that I and my forces won’t be able to defeat the Dragon Witch before she destroys the city, let alone the realm, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

Logan frowned, tilting his head.

“You would risk your entire world’s existence, rather than accept defeat?”

“I’ve not been defeated yet!” Roman shot back. “Besides, I made this world. If it is destroyed, then I will simply make it again. Your threat is meaningless!”

“And the lives of the people living in it?” Logan demanded. “Are they meaningless too?”

Roman opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, the world split apart. Purple lightning filled the sky, and he let out a cry of anguish as a wave of emotion slammed into the walls he’d placed up between his realm and Thomas.

There was the same fear and anxiety from Virgil as there had been before, but there was also sadness, doubt, and guilt, manifesting in bright blue flashes throughout the storm. The guilt was somehow even more debilitating than the fear, and as he fought to keep the emotions from reaching Thomas, he could feel his grip on the realm itself slipping.

No… he thought, desperately trying to hold on to his composure. No, no, no…

— — —

It has to be perfect. If it’s not perfect, then I’m just a fraud, I’ve basically been lying to my fans this entire time, and I can’t let that be true, I won’t let them down like that, it has to be perfect.

Thomas let out a gasp as his creative flow slammed to a halt, replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread.

“It will be good enough,” he said aloud to his empty room, but the swirling thoughts of dread and despair only grew stronger.

But what if it isn’t? What if you’ll never make anything worth watching again and all the sacrifices you’ve made, all the friendships you’ve harmed along the way, all of that will have been for nothing? Your dreams will never come true and your friends will all abandon you. You’ve never really been that good a person anyway, why on earth would they stay? You’ll end up all alone for the rest of your life, and it will be your fault.

“What is going on?”

Thomas started to reach out for his sides, but he wasn’t sure who exactly to summon. Who could be responsible for this type of thinking? He’d never felt like this before, as though his thoughts were being forcibly pulled out of his control, except…

Except for that time when Virgil had ducked out. He hadn’t been as aware of it, but his thoughts had felt just like this: foreign and strange and fully divorced from what he was directly experiencing.

Thomas frowned, and decided that the best thing to do would be to summon all the sides together. He started to reach out with his mind, but before he could contact anyone specific, somebody appeared in the corner of his vision.

Unfortunately, it was the last side he wanted to see.

“Janus?” he asked. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

“I think you should take a break, Thomas,” Janus said quietly. “Put the laptop away and try to get some rest.”

“What? No,” Thomas said, shaking his head. “I need to keep working on this, it’s my best idea ever. It could completely change the course of my creative career, I just have to get these feelings under control and then I’ll–”

“Thomas,” Janus interrupted sharply. “You’ve been working for fifteen hours straight.”

Thomas glanced at the time on his laptop and was startled to see that Janus was right; it was nearly three in the morning, and he couldn’t recall the last time he’d stopped to take a break.

“You need to stop,” Janus said, his voice firm. “Your magnum opus can wait until tomorrow.”

“I guess…” Thomas said slowly. “But what’s going on with the others? I felt…strange, just now.”

“Get some sleep,” Janus said. “If everything goes right, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Thomas frowned, giving Janus a skeptical look.

“Is that my Deceitful side lying to me, or is it the truth?”

“At the end of the day, does that really matter?” Janus asked with a tight smile. “Either way, you need the rest.”

“I suppose,” Thomas said, stifling a yawn even as he spoke.

Janus watched as he closed his laptop and got up, a strange expression on his face. Thomas tried not to pay him much attention, quickly swapping his jeans out for some pajama pants before falling into bed.

“Summon the others tomorrow,” Janus said as Thomas closed his eyes. “By then, they should have things straightened out.”

Thomas was already drifting off, and he felt more than heard Janus’s final words.

“I hope.”

— — —

Roman was losing his control. He looked up, and he could see the imagination around him beginning to crumble away. He noticed bits and pieces from his room, the bright white of his bedspread, the shine of the lights around his mirror, the blood red of his sash where he’d thrown it on the floor. The fantasy around him– his soldiers, his city, the Dragon Witch, even Logan himself– it was all flickering in and out of existence as the mental barrage continued.

“NO!”

Roman stopped trying to channel the emotions away and instead closed his eyes and pushed, forcing his mental walls back up, stronger and better than before.

“You won’t take this from me!”

He opened his eyes, only to see that the outburst of energy had reverted the Dragon Witch into her human form. She stood before him, leaning heavily against her magic staff, Logan now on his hands and knees at her side. Roman drew his sword, pointing it at the pair with a shaking hand.

“You. Can’t. Take this from me!”

Logan’s entire body was trembling, but he looked up and met Roman’s gaze, glaring at him even as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“You’re insane,” he whispered.

Roman let out a bitter, hollow laugh.

“If you just now figured that out, then you’re…” he trailed off, looking down at the shaking side.

He had begun to fade away as Roman’s control over the imagination loosened, but he was fully solid again now. His breath was ragged and his skin was pale, as though he’d just attempted to run a marathon while running a fever.

“You’re…not part of this realm,” Roman said slowly. “You’re part of Thomas. You shouldn’t have disappeared.”

Logan still looked ill, but at Roman’s words he pushed himself to his feet.

“What was that word he used?” Logan asked, looking over at the Dragon Witch, and a small, triumphant smile spread across his face as he looked back to Roman. “Checkmate.”

Roman’s eyes widened, then the Dragon Witch lashed out suddenly, her staff glowing as she swung it towards him in a wide arc. Roman threw his sword up and blocked her strike, and her spell went ricocheting off through the city.

For a moment, all his attention was on the fight, on blocking and parrying and counter attacking, but he’d sparred with the Dragon Witch dozens of times, in both of her forms. By the third strike from the witch, he’d settled into a familiar rhythm, and turned his attention back to Logan…or what he’d thought was Logan.

“Who are you?” he shrieked. “You can’t be him! He shouldn’t have disappeared! So you must be–”

“Meaningless?” asked a voice he’d never heard before.

Roman pushed the Dragon Witch away and took a step back, staring in disbelief as Logan’s form began to flicker, just like the rest of the imagination had, just like all the other characters Roman had designed to fill his vast fantasy world had done when he was losing his control over the scene. But he was back in control now; this shifting had another cause. He’d barely had enough time to form the thought before the image of Logan was gone.

In his place stood a barefoot girl in a tattered dress, her hair a wild mass of curls and her fists clenched at her sides. She looked somehow…familiar, and Roman tilted his head.

“Do I know you?”

The girl didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. He remembered now, for the longer he looked at her the more he recognized where she’d come from. When he’d first created the town surrounding the castle, he’d decided it needed citizens to make it feel more lived in. He’d made soldiers, peasants, shopkeepers, tradesmen and artisans, and then, to make the place more realistic, he’d made a handful of street urchins.

He’d scarcely given the creations any thought after forming them and setting them loose in the city, and why would he? They weren’t meant to be important; the girl had no family, no backstory, no real role to play in his realm. So how on earth had she ended up here, fighting alongside the Dragon Witch and impersonating one of Thomas’s sides?

She looked up at him and he could see fear in her eyes, but there was a quiet strength too. The girl folded her arms and took a step towards him, and the Dragon Witch held out an arm, as if to shield her.

“Careful, little hero,”she murmured, and Roman looked back and forth between the two in disbelief. The girl ignored the witch and took another step, looking up at Roman with a determined expression.

“Like I said,” she repeated. “Checkmate.”

Roman turned and ran, knowing even as he did so that he’d never make it back to the palace in time.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he should have known something was wrong! Why else would the Dragon Witch attack now when she’d never attacked during the Red Sun before? Why else, except to draw him and all his guards away from the palace, leaving the castle vulnerable to an unseen enemy, a more crafty enemy…

A shadow fell over him, and he glanced up as he ran to see the witch in her dragon form flying along above him, the little girl on her back once more. She quickly overtook him, and landed in the market square, spreading her wings out and blocking his path to the castle.

“You’re too late, Prince Roman,” the Dragon Witch declared.

“I’ve defeated you before,” Roman cried, shifting into a fighting stance. “I can defeat you again!”

“You can defeat me all you like,” the Dragon Witch replied, her mocking voice echoing his own inner thoughts. “But you’ll never be able to outsmart him.”

— — —

Logan had no idea what was causing Roman’s realm to fall apart, but he was exceptionally grateful for it.

The few remaining guards inside the castle were too overwhelmed by the effects of their very fabric of reality unraveling around them to notice a small girl running through the corridors searching for the dungeons.

He found the correct door after only a few minutes of searching; Roman’s penchant for the dramatic meant the one door that very obviously looked as though it led to a dungeon did in fact lead to a dungeon, and he pulled the vial of acid the Dragon Witch had given him out of his pocket. Technically, the Dragon Witch had described the liquid inside as a magical potion that would dissolve any substance besides its own container, but the ‘potion’ was functionally identical to a freakishly effective vial of hydrochloric acid.

Tomato, Solanum lycopersicum, Logan thought as he poured a few drops onto the door handle of the dungeon. After a moment of sizzling, the lock dissolved away and he pushed the door open.

The room was dark, faint torchlight flickering ominously off the stone walls. Six cells lined the room, and the two at the end of the row were occupied.

“Patton?” he called. “Virgil?”

The prisoners looked up, and relief flooded through him when he saw their faces.

“Maddie?” Patton cried, jumping to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“Who is that?” Virgil whispered to Patton, but Logan ignored the question.

“Not Maddie,” he said breathlessly. “It’s me.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out another vial, downing its contents in a single gulp. A strange tingling sensation enveloped his body, and he had to admit that in this case, he didn’t have a scientific explanation for the shapeshifting potion that the Dragon Witch had given him.

“Logan?” Virgil asked in disbelief.

“Watch your hands,” Logan said, stepping forward to pour the remainder of the acid on the locks on their cell doors.

“I knew you’d figure something out,” Patton said, his eyes shining with pride. “I just knew it.”

In a moment, both cells were open, and Patton rushed out, pulling Logan and Virgil both into a bone crushing hug. For once, Logan didn’t think, didn’t analyze or worry, he just wrapped his arms around his friends and let himself slump into them.

They were all safe, and they were all together. For one, shining moment, that was all that mattered.

“Are the two of you alright?” he asked when he eventually pulled back. “You’re not injured, are you?”

Patton shook his head.

“We’re fine, Logan,” he said, and Virgil nodded in agreement.

“My head will be a bit sore for a few days, but I’ll live. What about you? We heard the Dragon Witch attacking…”

“I’m fine,” Logan reassured him. “In fact, the Dragon Witch attack is my own doing.”

“What?” Virgil exclaimed.

“The potion…” Patton said, his eyes widening. “That’s where you got that potion that made you look like Maddie, isn’t it?”

“Technically, the potion made me look like myself, as it was an antidote to the spell that she cast to make me look like Maddie–”

“Hang on, where is Maddie?” Patton interrupted.

“She’s with the Dragon Witch…pretending to be me.” Patton’s jaw dropped open, and Logan grimaced. “I know! I tried to tell her that it would be safer if she stayed behind in the cave, but she insisted. She said that the distraction would hold Roman’s attention for longer if I appeared to be aiding the Dragon Witch directly in her assault.”

“Back up,” Virgil said, holding up his hands. “You let the Dragon Witch cast a spell on you?”

“She is Roman’s biggest villain,” Logan said simply. “Asking her to help us defeat him was the only logical choice left.”

“To be fair,” Patton admitted, “It’s not that much crazier than what we tried to do.”

Logan frowned.

“What you tried to do?”

“We’ll tell you on the way out,” Virgil said. “Right now, we should move, before the guards come back.”

Logan nodded, and the three turned and began making their way out of the dungeon.

“Remember what happened on the bridge?” Patton asked as they climbed the stairs, and Logan nodded. “Well, I had a feeling that it wasn’t Roman who caused it…I thought it might have been Virgil. And it turns out I was right!”

“You caused the Imagination to fall apart?” Logan asked, looking back at Virgil. “How?”

Virgil shrugged.

“I’m not exactly sure. I had an overload of anxiety, but something was blocking me from channeling it away the way I normally do.”

“Roman’s cutting off our access to Thomas,” Patton added. “I think that’s also why we can’t sink out. Reach out for him now; you can’t feel him, can you?”

They’d reached the top of the stairs, and Logan paused. Normally, he was at least subconsciously aware of whatever external stimuli Thomas was experiencing, so that he could filter through the information and assist with decision making. He’d been so distracted by the quest to save Virgil and Patton that he hadn’t even noticed the lack of that awareness.

“I can’t,” he said aloud, and Patton nodded.

“I can’t either. Whatever Roman’s done, it’s making him our only access point to Thomas. So we’ve been waiting for the right time to try overloading that access point.”

“When we heard the Dragon Witch attacking, we thought it would be our best shot,” Virgil said. “And for a minute there I thought we would actually do it, but just before we could break through, the wall went back up again. Somehow, Roman was still stronger than the two of us put together.”

“Perhaps…” Logan mused. “But nonetheless, the two of you did have a strong effect on the Imagination. I wonder…would it be successful if all three of us tried to breach that barrier?”

As they spoke, Logan led them outside and through the palace gardens to the servants’ gate in the side of the wall. The three stepped out onto the street, and Virgil looked around hesitantly.

“So…now what?” he asked.

Logan opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a familiar roar sounding from the market square. He grimaced, and looked back at his companions.

“Our original plan was to try and sneak out of the city. But simply escaping from Roman isn’t actually going to solve this problem.”

Patton glanced at Virgil, and at a small tilt of the anxious side’s head, he locked eyes with Logan and nodded.

“You’re right,” he said firmly. “This whole thing happened because we’ve been ignoring this problem. The only way we’re going to bring an end to this is if we confront it head on.”

“Guess we’ll get a chance to test out your hypothesis, Logan,” Virgil added as they hurried towards the square.

“If it comes to that,” Logan agreed. “I do still hope that we’ll be able to use reason with Roman, though after all we’ve done to reach this point, I don’t know if that will be effective.”

“Probably not,” Patton said quietly, and Logan glanced at him.

Patton met his eyes for a moment, and Logan was surprised at the amount of melancholy he saw there. All through their ordeal, Patton had maintained a level of optimism that bordered on recklessness. As much as Logan had found that to be unrealistic, he also had relied on it for strength more than he’d realized. That Roman had somehow managed to dampen that was almost more offensive than the fact that he’d locked Patton and Virgil up.

Before Logan could think of an appropriate response, the trio rounded the corner into the square, then immediately skidded to a halt. Patton let out a gasp and Virgil swore under his breath; all Logan could do was stand there blankly and take in the scene.

Guards in full regalia lined the square, blocking off every possible avenue of escape. The Dragon Witch lay sprawled out on the ground, a deep wound in her side causing her breath to come in quick, pained gasps.

Roman stood over her fallen body, and the red sunlight shining down on his silver breastplate made it look as if he was bathed in blood. His face was twisted in a terrible mix of fury and triumph, and he brandished his sword at his defeated foe, as though daring her to stand and challenge him again.

She was in her dragon form, but as her wound spilled blood down onto the cobblestones, that body fizzled away, revealing the humanoid woman Logan had first met outside her lair. Her robes were torn and bloody and her face was deathly pale, but her eyes still blazed with a defiant fire as she stared up at her opponent.

“Any final words, Witch?” Roman asked in a steely voice.

The Dragon Witch opened her mouth, but before she could speak, a high pitched cry rang out through the square.

“Stay back!”

Maddie darted forward, putting herself between Roman and the witch’s body, gripping Dragon Witch’s staff tightly in both hands. The thing was nearly twice her height and she brandished it clumsily, but Roman still paused in his advance.

“Out of my way, girl,” he said, but Maddie shook her head.

“I said back!” she insisted, shaking the staff towards him.

“Run along now, little hero,” the Dragon Witch coughed, reaching weakly towards the girl as if to pull her back. “Your part is done.”

Maddie shook her head again, and Roman frowned.

“I won’t tell you again. Stand. Down,” he said coldly.

Maddie shifted her feet and gripped the staff more tightly, but she did not move, and Roman sighed, raising his sword.

“Enough!” Logan shouted before he could bring the blade down.

Roman looked up, his eyes flashing with hatred as they landed on his three fellow sides. Logan’s confidence faltered as the full force of that glare landed on him and he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

What if it doesn’t work? What if it’s not enough? I have no more tricks up my sleeve…if this plan fails, then what are we going to do?

Logan’s racing thoughts were pulled to a stop with a sudden, simple touch. He looked down and saw that Patton had stepped forward and intertwined their fingers. The moral side glanced up at him and nodded, a slight waver in his smile the only sign betraying his own nerves. Virgil stepped up beside them, locking eyes with Logan as he wordlessly took Patton’s other hand. An understanding passed between them, and Logan smiled, giving Patton’s hand an encouraging squeeze. He looked back to the square, and took a deep breath.“Enough, Roman!” he repeated, his voice steady and strong. “This ends now!”

— — —

AN: So I know that LAST time I updated I said I wanted to update the fic more and then almost 5 years passed, but I can say with confidence that THIS YEAR chapter 10 at least will be released, if not the entire end of the fic (I won't actually know whether the conclusion takes one or two chapters to write until I, you know, write it, but it's outlined, I promise). I've been trying to finish this story for so long, and I know it looks like nothing happened between these updates, but rest assured, I thought about this story and how much I wanted to finish it often during these past few years. Thank you so much for being patient with me, and thank you to anyone who still has stuck around to read this, even after all this time. I love each and every one of y'all <3

(If you were on the Our Own Villain taglist, I will be tagging you in a reblog, tagging has changed so much in four years that my taglist copy-paste doesn't even work anymore)

#our own villain #sanders sides #thomas sanders #tss #tss fic #tss fanfic #sanders sides fanfic #my writing #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #the dragon witch #tss dragon witch

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