#as i focus on healing my body and mind these thoughts come up so i might as well post about it lol

[thecameronchronicles]

Heat of The Moment

TW: unhinged Rafe. Dominant sex. Dirty talk. Language. Oral sex. Hair pulling. Cum swallowing.

REQUESTED:

@gianadrichardson-blog

So the idea I have in my mind is that y/n and Rafe are dating and Rafe KNOWS that every guy wants y/n from tourons, college guys and even his best friends want her. So while y/n was out of town with her parents, Topper accidentally revealed that he had feelings for y/n and tried to date her while her and Rafe was in the talking stage. So Rafe calls y/n and sees where she at. When Rafe gets y/n location he shows up and let out his frustration he had and record them having sex with y/n then send to topper with the message “keep away from my girl”

Maybe y/n older brother have y/n phone and decided to play a prank on rafe acting like a guy had y/n phone

Heat of the Moment

"What the fuck, Top?!" Rafe accuses, holding Topper's phone high enough out of reach. But your pictures remain on the screen. More specifically, pictures the friend of your boyfriend shouldn't have.

"I- just stop it, man-"

"My girlfriend's tits are on your screen! What am I supposed to think?"

"She's in a bikini but it it doesn't matter okay? Just-just let me have it back." But Rafe smashes it before Topper can even brush his fingers against it. His finger is pointed in his former friend's face before he can right Rafe's actions that he believes wholeheartedly are justified.

"Rafe. When you and her were just talking, I...I thought I had a shot. I get that now, okay? I just, sometimes I wonder what if-"

"If I even see you looking at her after this, you won't be able to ever look again."

Rafe was already fuming. He was jealous and curious, both existing to a dangerous degree that meant his knuckles were bloodied more than healed and his voice hoarse from having defended you.

There wasn't a soul within a dramatic radius within the Outer Banks that didn't see your beauty. Whether it was the stunning way your eyes could focus and become instantly lustful with one look at your boyfriend or the way your voice warmed even the coldest of hearts, Rafe Cameron knew exactly what he had.

Perfection.

He just didn't expect to have to have to defend you to someone so close to him- someone who has apparently had feelings for you since before you were officially anything with Rafe. It makes his hands wrap tightly around the steering wheel and his foot practically punch a hole into the floor of his truck as he races across the Carolina road.

He never thought he left it to question. You were his. He was yours. It was as official as it could be without a ring or contract of marriage and yet he knew he needed to make it unquestionably true to the one person it mattered to.

So without a call or text in warning, he is pounding at your front door.

"Rafe? Are you okay baby, you-" He is over your threshold, face between your hands, your body pulled into his as he kisses you between words.

"You know I love you, yeah?" You nod with your hands coming up around his wrists. If you didn't trust him so gravely then you'd worry for the strength behind his hands as he brought you against him.

"You know I'd do anything for you?" He kisses with a grunt, more animal than the man you talked to earlier this morning.

"And that you say our word and it stops, no questions asked? That you know I put you first?" His forehead rests against yours as he waits for your agreement. It takes less than the time of a blink before he gets it.

"Good, remember that because I'm about to fuck you like I hate you." He lifts you around him and up your steps, suddenly too far away from your room.

You were the complete opposite of touch starved and yet you felt as if you had been drowning without his touch, the first moment of contact being an exhale for relief. Only in the juxtaposition that was being his girlfriend it also made you lightheaded.

"Rafe-" His hand comes up over your mouth as he only manages to get to the steps and turns you to cover them. Your knees dig into the uncomfortable wood and yet all you can focus on is the heat of the moment.

"Need to use that word, baby?"

You shake your head as he guides your hands around the open spaces between the bars making up your bannister.

"Then hold on." His belt sounds first and then the rough fabric of his pants being shoved.

"Jesus Christ, baby, I don't even need to spit on my cock, so I?" He leans over you, kicking your legs just wide enough to leave some comfort in the angle. "Always so wet for me isn't that right?"

"Always!" You moan into his hand as he grins against your shoulder before reaching into his pocket.

You hear the wrapper of the confom being torn and make the mistake to turn and see him do it with his teeth. Something about the savagery of it and the heat behind his eyes, still possessing your care above all else, and it sends you drenching the valley awaiting him.

"Safe and-" He moans, a deep honey tone, that makes your toes curl knowing you wrap around him snuggly enough to cause such a reaction.

"Tight, baby! Fuck!" He hits the stairs beside your cheek and yet it does nothing to limit anything. If anything, it spurs you both on as his other hand releases your mouth and you're able to kiss the skin of his fist as if to soften his rigidity.

"How are you so sweet AND sexy-hmm? Always know just what I need don't you baby?" Your body wills itself to endure all that is Rafe Cameron. Every tension soiling his happiness now pumping through every snap of his hips until all that remains is the frustration you know he veils from you. Still, you trust that every shove of him into you is only a method of showing you he cares.

However, it has never been quite this possessive before. Quite this needy. Quite this deep or hard.

And you fucking love it.

His hands can't move fast enough and yet they are graceful and not amateur. He rolls your nipples as he kisses your neck, thrusting without break, and whispering every dirty thought you have constructed in your time apart.

And then he becomes completely and utterly unhinged. Taking you in his lap, he pulls you facing away from him, still seated to the root. He bounces you, one hand around your neck, as the other rubs your clit. It can't be comfortable for him with the wood beneath you and still he is too driven by the cries you're making in the sound of his name to care about anything but this next thrust-or the dozens that follow.

"Nobody knows just how dirty you get for me, isn't that right baby? How deep you take my dick in this perfect little pussy? Yeah?" He slaps your clit with just enough pressure to make you jolt until he lifts his hips and makes you forget of the sting it leaves behind.

"How loud you get? It's a miracle nobody has called the cops yet. You sound like you're in pain, shit-" He turns you to him with the grip around your neck moving to your jaw and turning you to him.

"You good baby?"

"Harder-"

"That's my fucking girl?" You're lifted with a gasp following you as he takes you into your room. You are only allowed the reprieve of wood beneath your soles for a second before he's rutting you into the bed. Hand pushing your face into the sheets to somewhat muffle your screaming, all you hear is the repetitive "yeah"s in the mix of your name as he wallows in you.

"Do I have to worry about anyone else ever knowing about how good you feel?" You are torn away from your blissful daze at the question.

"What?" You turn and face him, seeing the phone pointed towards you. The heat from your skin accelerated until it is now the marrow in your bones and you can't cool it, not that you want to.

"Who fucks you deep enough to make you soak his cock like this?"

"Rafe!" You manage as he pulls your hair and makes your back arch for him.

"Who makes you dizzy and shit when he knows just where to hit?"

He pulls you to him, against his chest until you can look up at him.

"Who loves you enough to prove to everyone on this goddamn island you're his?! Huh?"

"RAFE! GOD! YOU, RAFE?" You sob, the pleasure almost painful as he grips your hip with one hand and keeps the phone recording in the other. The video is shaky and then disposed of as his cum begins to shoot from his heavy balls and up his shaft.

"On your knees, baby-" He takes the phone back, pointing it to your face. As always, he kisses you sweetly and runs a thumb over your lips, before you take him behind your smirk.

"Ohhh baby-" You accept him slowly before opening your throat to him. Eyes locked and cheeks prepped to be hollow, you wait as he cocks his head before powering through. He thrusts.

Twice.

Once.

And then becomes a blur.

Only grunts and 'fucks' leave between moans.

"Shit baby, you're gonna make me come- you want it?" He asks, managing to open his eyes long enough to see you nod. Digging your nails into his thighs, you drive him to pulse into your throat, over your tongue, and along with your swallow.

"Open-" he points the camera to show just the good girl you are.

"I fucking love you, baby, and now nobody will question who you belong to again."

"I don't think they do, Rafe..." You laugh it off as he helps you to your feet and into his arms within your bed.

As you fall asleep, you hear him tapping away on his phone before finally focusing completely on you. You rest well within his arms, satisfied in the countless orgasms you had as he reached his own, sweet dreams awaiting you that pale in comparison to what it means to be loved by Rafe.

Across town, Topper's phone buzzes. A video file from Rafe. The new phone, bought not even ten minutes after his last one was smashed sits in wait for the message.

MP4 file.

It is opened. The sound of slurping around the impressive shaft, angry and near completion is spliced with the sight of you spread for him on the stairs as well as the hip of the bed. Your cries are only of pleasure and they echo as the video plays.

"Stay away from my girl." Comes a warning meant for Topper.

Only it isn't Topper's eyes that come to the scene.

And it isn't Topper's life that gets the threat.

It is your brother's and he has just been waiting for an excuse to let out his own rage out against Rafe.

MASTERLIST

[amarmoria]

Nepenthe

꩜.ᐟ Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Why would your master want a padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

Notes: I've seen fics abt padawan reader and none can quench my thirst eugh😫pls note i have nooo idea what goes on in the star wars universe please don't come for me😣

"Hand me that one, fast" He gestured to the purple fruit just beside you, not daring to glance at you. "Yes, sir"

You curiously peeked over your master as you handed the fruit, what was so important it had him rushing like this?

"It's for Mae," he says, the squelching fruit making you frown, you forget he reads minds as easily as breathing. Your frown deepens as you remember. Mae. His acolyte, he took you in a few months before Mae came, that first few months felt like heaven, it was just you and him, in this unknown planet, training, practicing.

Yet, after Mae came, it almost felt like you were some kind of servant for the both of them, he trained with her day and night, leaving you to fend for yourself, he told you it's because you've already been trained by him, that you don't need to anymore, you didn't mind, you got along with Mae... on your perspective that is.

Mae was a fast learner, you were proud of her, now you have someone to share your training with, converse like a normal person, but later you realized that him and her were two sides of the same coin, quiet, mute, they don't like conversations, although you made an effort to be friends with Mae, than you ever did with your master since she was the lesser evil, you're quite proud of yourself when your conversations with her turned from smalls nods and no's to simple phrases.

You didn't care that your master had two Padawans under his belt, that is until he taught her some things he never even told you about, every now and then he would drop hints about what he would teach you next, to prepare you, but this one was unknown to you, you thought, maybe, maybe he forgot to tell you since he was so engrossed in trying to make Mae catch up to you, but Mae didn't just catch up to you, she had already passed way above you, while your stuck on the pedestal she was weeks ago.

"Something on your mind, little bee?" That nickname, he never once gave an explanation on why he calls you that. "No, uh, nothing.. master"

You focus on his muscles grinding the stone bowl.

"I don't think that's nothing"

"I'm fine, really." You bite the inside of your cheeks. "Hm"

You blink, fiddling with the hem of your robes, you let a few seconds pass before speaking up.

"Why.. why does Mae need it?" He halted his movements, and right then and there you almost regretted asking, almost. "She's having nightmares"

He resumed his cooking, although his brief answer didn't provide you with anything, so what? You were having nightmares once too, and he told you to suck it up.

And as if he read your mind, which he did. "I don't want it to hinder her performance, we don't want any distractions during this time of her training."

What about my training? You wanted to yell at him, what about me? Why can't you make me one of your anti-nightmare potions too?

You could only clench your fists, making sure he doesn't hear some of your thoughts, which is hard considering he didn't teach you to, only Mae, along with healing your body by using the force, all her, and your left in the dust.

Your master said using negative emotions is the best fuel for people like them. Them. He told you, him and Mae obvi, you're nowhere near the equation, like an addition symbol in a multiplication question, makes no sense right? Because you make no sense being there when he clearly prioritizes Mae.

"—are you still listening?"

"I, huh," your eyes flutter up to him, frowning when he says nothing but look at you. A few seconds pass with only the both of you staring each other down, I mean, him staring you down with his creepy mask, he suddenly lets go of the pestle, the tool colliding with the mortar loudly.

He was now towering over you, and you realize then how big he was compared to you, it's like a dwarf next to a willow tree. (Guys no matter how big you think you are, Qimir is always bigger✋)

"I can't hear you, but I feel you" oh fuck, you forgot about that. "What is this plaguing your mind?"

Before you could answer, Mae comes running.

"You're back" He focuses on her, you let out a deep breath, for once your relieved Mae came in just a nick of time. "The ship's ready, master"

"Good, let's go" he grabs his robe from behind you. "Finish the potion before we come back"

"Whe, where are you guys going?"

"Nothing of importance, now go." He gestures to the stone bowl, his menacing helmet buzzing in your ears. "Yes, master.."

"Good girl." you couldn't hear his last few mumbles, only registering everything when they left the cave, leaving you alone.

-

You decided that you're gonna make an anti-nightmare potion for yourself too, because why does only Mae get it when you can make one in case you get nightmares?

And the best place to buy ingredients was with the best apothecary in town.

"Qimir?" You knock on the door. "I need to buy things for him, are you there?"

No answer.

"Hellooo?"

You pouted and turned around, now everyone's busy when you're not, you wanted to wait for a few more seconds but people might think you're crazy for trying to buy from an abandoned pharmacy, your master told you Qimir was there anytime you needed something to use for missions, but now that you don't go to missions, you love to annoy the clumsy pharmacy owner.

"Hey, wait!"

You tried to stop the smile creeping to your face when you hear the door bust open.

"I'm here!" He yelled, you turned around and waved, a big smile covering your face. "What took you so long?"

"What do you mean?" He playfully shrugged. "Been here since forever"

You felt more comfortable with him, you don't have to have to tiptoe around him unlike with the other, you liked to tease him about not taking a bath and for looking like a ragged hobo.

"What are you doing here though?" His eyebrows furrowed as you skip to him, you gave him a warm smile once again before making your way inside. "I need some things for him."

He frowned.

"Things? He didn't tell me he needed anything when they passed here."

"Well he told me, so go fetch it for me, servant" you chuckle and hit him on the bicep, he fakes a cry before hesitating to open the shelves.

"Here's the list of his majesty needs"

"His majesty?" He laughs, you just love making him laugh, maybe it's just you, or maybe you're just alone, but if there's anyone in the world you're going to survive an apocalypse with, it's Qimir.

"Uh huh, he keeps barking orders, finish this, finish that before we get home nyeh nyeh nyeh"

He chuckles once again. "Are you sure about telling me that? I might just snitch and get a promotion."

You feign an insulted look. "You don't dare"

"Oh but I do"

You both sat there laughing, forgetting about what you were here for. You clutch your tummy and struggle to inhale air.

"I can't— stop—" you burst out laughing once again, your face heating up, the tears in your eyes now brimming full.

"No no don't die on me" He jokes, you can see him staring, you wanted to look at him like that, shameless, but you can't stand looking at him for more than 3 seconds without blushing.

"Really?" He mumbles, but you heard him, clear as day. "What?"

"I, I mean, really h-huh? You can't stop laughing?" He waved both his hands in the air.

"You weirdo"

"Oh so now I'm the weirdo?"

"Uh huh"

"Since when?!"

"Since we met"

"Says the person who keeps barging in my shop"

"You like it though right?" You look up at him expectantly. "Like w-what?"

You gesture with your hands. "This?"

"This what?"

"You're always alone here, you must be grateful that I always visit."

"Yeah, always"

"What does that mean!" You put your hands on your waist. "It means you're always here, so you're like an everyday occurance by now"

You roll your eyes as he finishes up the list.

"Here's the last one—" you frown as he pauses. "What?"

"Isn't this," he picks up the list again. "It's for.."

You gulp, your fingers fumble with the wooden seat.

"N-no, no, it's not" you avert your eyes from him, the floor looking a little more interesting today.

"It's for nightmares isn't it?"

"I don't know, he only gave the list, nothing else."

"It is for nightmares, why do you need these?"

"I don't know, it's not for me." You clench your fists. "If it was for him he'd tell me himself"

Your eyes try to find something, anything, to tell him.

"I think it's for Mae okay? Maybe, maybe she's having nightmares and, and maybe he doesn't want it to distract her.."

"But I al—" he pauses, his jaw flexing. "I already gave him these."

His eyes narrow on you, like a deer in the headlights you could only look away.

"Tell me?" His soft voice lures you to him. "Are you having them?"

"No.." you sigh, do you tell him you're making the potion out of spite for your master? For making one for Mae and not for you, ugh it all sounds childish now, before you left you had a plan, and now you look like a child caught.

"Just—" you let out a deep breath. "Give it, and I'll be on my way"

He stares at you for a moment, before placing everything in a small pouch. You thanked him and left the credits on the table before hurriedly leaving, you could still feel his stare at the back of your head.

[pit-and-the-pen]

When Things Come Back to Haunt You

I finally finished this request: to the anon that requested, I’m so sorry how long it took, my brain was not letting write angst.

Summary: When Azriel hurts his mate in the war, guilt eats him alive.

Wc: 2.6k

Warnings: character injury and near death.

Azriel tried his best to focus on the events unfolding around him. The last wave of Hybern soldiers were still coming down around them and all he could focus on was the fact that he could only watch as your body slipped into the crowd right out of his view. He sent a sharp tug on that golden thread and felt nothing but a solid wall. She blocked him out. His skin crawled at the thought. He wouldn’t be able to know if you were okay. He sent out another powerful blast of his siphon, taking down three hybern soldiers and ran off after you. Wave after wave kept coming. Everytime he would catch a glimpse of you, you seemed to slip off again.

Azriel knew you could handle yourself, he had trained you personally. But that didn’t stop the utter panic that was consuming him the longer you two were separated.

The bodies slowly thinned down to the few remaining stragglers and he finally was able to catch up with you. Going to shout your name as he saw your sword cleave through a line of enemy soldiers. You were surrounded on all sides, the two you took down in front of you only distracting you from the ones behind you. Azriel shouted out your name. Lost over the sounds of the commotion around them. The words get carried away in the wind.

He surges forward with Truth Teller, running through fae with no regard. He had to get to you. He could have reached forward and pushed you out of the way but all he could do was yell your name again. You were still fighting off the bodies in front of you.

He watched, almost frozen in horror, as one of the figures behind you surged to swing their own sword right into your back.

“Get down!” Azriel shouted and he could only watch in horror as you turned at the sound of his voice,a small smile graced your face before the power of his siphon blasted into you. You took the brunt of the power of his siphon to the center of your chest. You collapsed like a rag doll, legs crumpling underneath you. The scream that ripped through him left his ears ringing. He didn’t care that your would-be attacker was on the ground unmoving besides you. All the sounds of the battle faded away as he rushed to get to you. You had to be breathing. You had to be alive. He would have felt it. Felt that precious golden bond snap. Wouldn't he? But your shields were still up, still blocking him up.

He was finally able to get his arms around you. It wasn’t the triumphant reunion that he thought the two of you would get. Your face was bleeding, sliced up in the impact. Your arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. He pressed his ear to your chest. He wanted to cry with relief when he heard the tell tale beating. But it was weak. Forcing itself to beat against the force of power you had absorbed,

He scooped you up in his arms, no longer caring about the events around him. He had done his fair share. The King of Hybern was dead and the others could clean up the rest of his soldiers that kept pushing on. His mind was racing as he rushed to the only place he could think to take you. The tent that Rhys had set up was far enough away that he cursed himself. Cursed himself for not taking note of where any of the healing tents were. Even if he got you to a healers tent it was no guarantee that they would be available to help you. No amount of threatening would force a healer to help if they are already up to their elbows in injuries.

He flew you to Rhys’ tent in record time. He didn’t even process that his brother was already laid out on the floor. He could only focus on your slowing heartbeat.

“Help her.” How he could even speak at this moment was beyond him. The words didn’t register in his mind, he didn’t even realize that he shouted them. He felt your weight leave his arms and he lunged to attack the source. A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders to keep him restrained and he fought to push them off as well.

“Calm down. Az, you’re going to hurt her.” The voice of his brother, Cassian, filled his ears. He willed his mind to take in the words, His heart sank.

“I already did.” He choked on the words. He had hurt his mate. Had nearly killed you. The one person he was supposed to keep safe. He felt the hot tears sliding down his face. His body went limp as the fight drained out of him. He kept tugging on the bond, searching for any part of you that he could hold onto. Nothing. Just that same wall that blocked him out.

The healer got right to work on you. Chanting over you with their eyes closed. The light haired healer gasped quietly, muttering words to herself as she went to collect something from the numerous bags that littered the tent.

“What are you doing?” He shouted to the healer. The female flinched before taking a deep breath.

“ Either calm down or get out. I cannot heal her if you’re shouting at me everytime I move. I will kick you out of this tent.” She bit back. Azriel felt the growl leave his chest and suddenly he was being yanked outside by Cassian.

Azriel roughly shook off the touch and went to enter again. A hand on his shoulder stopped his movements.

“Azriel. Stop.”

“I can’t! I nearly killed her, Cassian. I can’t just leave her alone.”

“What happened?” Cassian all but whispered. Azriel could only shake his head like it would remove the memory from him. The look of your smile before you were thrown back. His throat felt tight, he couldn’t breathe as he replayed the scene again and again.

Cassian was shaking him lightly. As he got pulled back to the present, he felt the tremors rack through his body. His knees threatening to give out under him.

“I can’t lose her. Cas, this can’t be how I lose her.” He couldn’t stop the sobs that left him. He sunk down to his knees. Not caring about the mud that shifted under his weight. His wings drooped closer to the wet earth. Cassian swore softly from behind him before he joined him on the ground. His brothers arms wrapped around his neck and pulled his into a tight hug. Azriel felt his whole body tense before he returned the hug. Clutching to the only suppor6 Cassian could offer in this moment.

The healer worked on you for what felt like hours. Eventually the healer rushed out, pushing the flap of the tent open.

“You’re her mate right?” She spoke almost too fast for Azriel to catch the sudden question.

He could only nod.

“Then I need your blood. Right now. Come.” She pulled on his wrist. He didn’t move at first as her words sunk in but then he was tripping over himself to get to you. He didn’t know he knew but you were dying. Your skin had lost the flush look from exertion, instead you had a slight sheen of sweat sticking to your skin.

“Hand.” The healer demanded. Azriel’s body didn’t feel like his as he extended it to the healer. He didn’t even flinch as she dragged a small dagger across half of his palm. He watched as the small stream of red pooled up along the cut. The healer guided his hand to your mouth, squeezing your cheeks slightly to part your lips. He watched as a single drop pooled out of your mouth. The healer wrapped his hand quickly before dismissing him. He couldn’t move. Feet rooted to the spot as the healer pressed her ear against your chest. She cursed loudly and Azriel felt like something in his chest has cleaved him in half.

“What’s happeni-”

“Get out. Now.” She all but growled at him. And there was something in her voice that made his legs follow her orders.

Your heart had stopped. That is what he learned within the next few minutes. Twice. The healer restarted your heart twice. And twice Azriel could do nothing but stand around as he felt like it was to lose you. More of his family had joined him now. Mor was inside the tent, assisting the healer. Cassian was trying his best to distract him from the twisted mess his mind was at this moment but even through his grief, he could tell not even Cassian knew what to say to make this better. Azriel was sitting with his knees curled up to his chest as the healer came out again. His heart sank at the look on her face.

She held up a small hand to him, a silent request for him to stay still.

“She’s stable. Her body is healing slowly. But the blood did its job. She’s lucky she has you or she would be dead right now.”

Mercifully, your eyes started to blink open. A rough breath pushed through your mouth as you tried to sit up. Azriel’s hand was on your shoulder instantly, urging you to lay back down. His heart broke when he heard a small whimper of pain from you at the contact. He withdrew his hand quickly. Pulling them both onto his lap. The tent was slightly too small for him, his wings tucked in tight against his body. It was difficult to sit without touching you, both because of his desperate need to feel your skin under his hands and because of the tight space.

You looked at him and he instantly felt sick to his stomach at the pure joy across your features. The warmth he felt tinting the edge of the bond that you finally opened up.

He couldn’t sit there and stomach your love for a second longer.

“Rhys will find you a new apartment. And I can start packing your stuff the moment I leave.” Azriel forced the words out. Breaking the silence in the tent. Your eyes widened at his words.

“Why would I need a new place to live?” The rasp in your voice hit him in the face. Your words didn’t make sense to him.

“I almost killed you. You were… your heart stopped twice. All because I couldn’t protect you.”

“Az-”

“No. You will never be put in danger by me. Never again.”

He watched as your face contorted with pain as you tried to sit up. The blanket across your chest slipped a little and he saw the hint of a scar marring your skin. An angry lighting like pattern, cutting across the mark of your mating bond right above your heart. You followed his eyeline and pulled the blanket tighter around yourself.

“Don’t you want to hear what I think?”

“N-”

“I think you saved my life. I was surrounded by soldiers. If you hadn't taken out the one behind me, he was going to kill me.”

“But I al-”

“This is war Azriel. People get hurt.”

“Not by me. Not you. This isn’t up for discussion.”

——————————//——————————

Azriel had managed to keep his distance while you healed. Moving you into your old room despite your amend demands that you would sleep in your shared bedroom. It was harder to avoid you once you started to be able to get around by yourself, no longer requiring assistance from Cassian or Mor. You somehow always found your way into the room he was occupying. Never speaking, you had figured out that speaking would have him all but running out of the room. Azriel felt every single tug from your side of the bond, could practically taste the way you were begging for him to talk to you. As much as it killed him to deny you, Azriel would not allow himself to be that selfish. His skin was crawling with the urge to touch you, to kiss your soft lips and play with the loose curls of your hair. He missed the pressure of your hand intertwined with his. He was sleeping like shit, he had grown so accustomed to your presence that he no longer could sleep without you. But he also had the image of his power hitting you burned into his memory. The scar on your chest would be a reminder enough.

You would not budge on your choice to stay in your house. Despite his best efforts, Rhys would not force you to move out. His brother, his high lord, would not order you to move out even if Azriel thought he was doing it for your protection. So Azriel hid like a child. Avoiding you in your very own home. But he could never fully escape you. You were everywhere in the house, if not psychically, then in the pictures on the wall, on Azriel's favorite pillow that you had gotten him. There was not a place in the house that he could distance himself from you and it was killing him.

It took two weeks to the day from when you moved back to the house that you broke. You had walked into the small nook of a library and Azriel softly put his book down and tried to slink out of the room. His shadows had drawn close to him but you had no problem reaching your hand out and closing it around his arm. You pulled him closer to you and his shadows immediately disappeared. He stood there, watching your chest rise and fall. He couldn’t bring himself to pull out of your grasp, savoring your touch before he would be denied it again.

“Az…”

“Please don’t do this.”

“Me? You don’t do this.” You felt your anger from the last few weeks building up.

Azriels face twisted, looking so pained that you couldn’t help the hand that reached out to try to brush his cheeks. He leaned in for a second before jumping away like you had burned him. Tears formed in your eyes as he tried to slink off again.

“If you don’t love me anymore, at least have the decency to tell me instead of avoiding me.” Your voice cracked and Azriel froze. His shadows wrapped around your arms, a ghost of a touch but not the one you wanted.

“I love you so much, that’s the problem. I almost watched you die. I did watch you die. In case you forget your heart stopped two times.”

“You cannot protect me from everything.”

“But I should be able to.”

“You’re so insistent on keeping me safe but did you ever sit and think about what I want?”

Azriel’s face dropped, giving you the answer you needed.

“I love you, no matter how much you wish I didn’t. I will be here until you figure that out. You’re the love of my life, my mate. I waited three hundred years for you and if you think I’m giving that all up-“

Your words were cut off by his lips crashing against yours. For the first time since the accident, you felt his side of the bond open up and the flood of emotions almost knocked your knees out from underneath you. His hand came to rest on the small of your back and yours rested against his face. The stubble on his chin tickled underneath your fingers. The kiss was slow, a building inferno that did nothing to satisfy the fire roaring in your veins.

You both pulled away gasping, his forehead resting on yours.

“Don’t ever leave me.” He whispered so softly that you almost missed it.

“Never.” You pulled his lips back to yours and flooded the bond with all the love you could. Happy to have your mate back

[fake-bleach]

feels so right | dbf!joel miller x reader

summary: Your college boyfriend's a dick, and it doesn't help that he dragged you along with him to a bar just to treat you like shit. You plan on catching a ride home after an incident between you two, but turns out that your dad's best friend's there too, and he saw everything. He ends up offering you a ride instead, but there's no promises that you make it back home for the night.

word count: 9.9k (yeah i went overboard oops..)

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!afab!reader (no use of y/n), this might be the filthiest smut i've ever written, porn w/ plot, reader has a horrible/mean bf, prolly unrealistic car sex but idc, joel can carry reader, thigh riding, praise/degrading, kinda mean joel, oral (m receiving), deepthroating/facefucking, use of pet names (honey, sweetheart, baby, girl, etc), piv, unprotected rough sex, bit of a size kink, joel's hugeee, spanking, bit of choking, creampie/coming inside, literally all that good filthy shit lolll, lil cheesy ass ending

btw this can be for both game/hbo!joel cus i had them both in mind while writing <3

ao3 link | masterlist

Music fills your ears as you take a sip of your drink, sitting on an uncomfortable stool by the bar you were at.

Your boyfriend dragged you here with him, but not out of the kindness of his heart, no. You had made plans with him to spend some time together; to stay in and watch a movie, in hopes that it'd somehow heal your declining relationship, and he thankfully agreed.

That was weeks ago now, and here you were; stuck at a bar with the rest of his friends all because he forgot about his plans with you and insisted that he'd spend the night with the ones he sees more often than you.

It was either you or them, and in his eyes, it was always them.

"Fuck, babe! If you wanna be with me so fucking bad, just come with me— since you won't get off my fucking ass if you don't. Jesus Christ, I mean, you'd think I'd be able to spend one fucking night with my friends.. So fucking clingy."

His words rung in your ears as your eyes got lost in the remaining alcohol in the glass in your hand, slowly swirling it around with dread filling your face and entire being. You knew your boyfriend wasn't the best guy in the world, but you loved him at one point, and your heart clung onto the hope that he would start to actually love you back.

You should've known that your hopes would never be enough.

Snapping yourself out of it, you lift your head up to turn and look at him, his fourth glass of whiskey nearly empty, not giving a single fuck about you. No, his focus was always on his friends.. always on the shit that he prioritized over you.

You could only take so much.

Lifting yourself up from the stool, your feet reach the ground as you make your way over to him, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. Nothing. Again, you tap him even harder, and he finally notices you for the first time in the 30 minutes you've been there.

"What the fuck? What do you want now?" He asks you, scoffing as he whips his head to turn to you.

You gasp at him, mouth open as you stare at him in disbelief. "What the fuck do I want? I want you to fucking pay attention to me, you asshole! Have you even thought about me the entire time we've been here at all?!" You exclaim harshly, your heart racing as your anger rises.

He just shakes his head at you, the annoyance in his face incredibly evident as his friends laugh faintly at the scene in front of them. He doesn't even attempt to apologize to you, the tone in his voice cruel as he scolds you, "I never even fucking wanted you here in the first place, and you didn't get the damn hint. Not my fucking fault, babe."

He turns his body to look back at his friends, completely avoiding you and the situation, and clearly not giving a shit to fix it. Your anger gets the best of you, reaching for his shoulder to harshly pull it back so he could just look at you, but he grabs your wrist, squeezing it tightly as he drags your body to him.

Your face is just inches away from his now, gasps coming out of your mouth as his grip tightens. "Don't you ever fucking touch me like that again.. Get the fuck out of here, bitch." He berates you, his breath oozing of booze as he shoves your wrist to push you away from him.

Your eyes fill with tears as you back away from him, your hand reaching to your wrist to soothe it, rubbing it softly. You glance around the room, embarrassed at what had just occurred. Eyes from all around the bar are on the two of you now, but there's a pair that immediately catch your eye.

Joel.

Your dad's best friend, and the man who practically watched you grow up right in front of his eyes.

His gaze is hard on you, face filled with growing anger as he watches what your dickhead of a boyfriend just did to you. Your face grows cold as you stare at him, eyes flickering from his face to the floor as you grip your bag, not wanting to have him confront you. You were embarrassed enough.

You glance back at your boyfriend one last time, a slight frown fixed on your lips as you rush out the door, gasping for air while your teary eyes pace around your surroundings. Frantically pulling your phone out of your bag, you open the Uber app, wanting to get a ride home and out of here as soon as you could.

"Honey? You alright?"

Your body jumps slightly as you turn your head to stare at the source of the voice, eyes fixed to recognize Joel, his face filled with concern and his gaze now soft on you. You swallow as you breathe out, wiping the tears that were just about to fall from your eyes.

Gaining the courage to speak, you choke out faintly, not wanting to reveal your emotions to him. "J-Joel, I— Yeah, I'm okay.. it's okay. Sorry you had to see that, I.. didn't know you came here.."

You turn your head to stare back down at your phone, weak fingers trying their best to tap on the buttons to get you a driver here as soon as possible.

Joel's hand just reaches over the ones gripping onto your phone, slowly pushing them down and away from your focus to make you look up at him. His eyes are gentle and warm, boring into yours.

"Don't do that, sweetheart.. I've known y'long enough to know that it isn't," His soft words soothe you, looking down at your somber face, "C'mon.. Why don't y'let me take you home? Let's get you outta here.." He offers, moving his hand behind the small of your back to guide you wherever his truck was parked.

You sniffle and nod as you give into his generosity, knowing that you just wanted and needed to be cared for right now, whether or not it was just by Joel's benevolence.

His stare is fixed on you as the two of you make your way to his truck, feeling a sense of responsibility and urge to protect you. You were the loveliest girl he's ever known in his entire life, and it appalled him at how you could be with an asshole like that.

Walking up to the passenger side with you right behind him, he opens the door up for you, gesturing you to get in. "C'mon, honey.. There y'go.." He whispers out, gently shutting it behind you once you're securely inside.

Joel gets in the driver's seat now, putting his seatbelt on after you as he turns the engine on, putting the car in reverse to get out of there, knowing that you probably wanted to leave the area as fast as possible.

Silence fills the space between you as the only sound that can be heard are the tires on the road, making you gulp softly. You then glance at him, clearing your throat and licking your drying lips, "I.. I promise, he's not always like that, Joel.. He's a nice man.. I—"

Your voice fails you as you finish, the uncertainty in your tone not even convincing yourself. You're lying straight through your teeth, and Joel knows it too.

He lets out a heavy scoff, shaking his head as his eyes focus on the road in front of him. Glancing at you, he chuckles, "Right.. A 'nice man', huh?" He starts, making you turn away from him to look down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers, "A 'nice man' wouldn't do that to you, honey.. Seems to me you've never felt how a real man should treat ya."

Your head turns to look at him quickly, scoffing back at him as you look at him, shocked. You don't even know why you're bothering to defend your shitty boyfriend, but for some reason, you wanted to prove to Joel that you were mature enough to make the right decisions.. to be with the right man.

"You don't even know him, Joel.. I.. I was being clingy, alright? He wanted to hang out with his friends instead of me tonight and I insisted I went too! You.. you'd act like that too if you were ever with me.." You tell him, your voice growing small towards the last part of your little speech, self-deprecation filling your mind along with your boyfriend's words.

It doesn't seem to make Joel any happier, making him suddenly pull over to the side of the road, putting the car in park. He huffs, removing his seatbelt as you follow his movements. Pausing to take a moment to try and compose himself, he finally looks at you, mouth open in disbelief. "You think I'd act like that if I were in his position? Think I'd fuckin' push you away like that? No, honey, god, no— you've got it all wrong."

You swallow as you stare at him, eyes confused and trying to understand what he was implying. He turns away from you for a moment, licking his lips as he breathes in sharply. "No fuckin' man right in the head would ever push you away like that, sweetheart.. No, he's a fuckin' boy who won't even cherish such a.. pretty girl like you."

Joel shakes his head, taking that pause between his words to look at you up and down, exhaling hard as he puts his fist to his face, his arm resting on the side of his window. He just stares back out through the windshield, your body stuck in place, breath hitching as you process it all.

"The hell would your dad think.. f'he ever saw that, huh? Boy's damn lucky I didn't do shit to him.. Lucky I didn't fuck m'up." He exclaims, scoffing softly as he looks at you for a moment.

Your chest rises as you breathe in softly, mind racing to figure out what to say. Your stomach is filled with faint butterflies from Joel's words, yet you knew that he'd never possibly think of you that way. He was just trying to comfort you.. right?

Your eyes are set on your lap, pausing before stuttering out, "Look, Joel.. I get it, you've known me my whole life, but I know what I'm doing. I'm not some dumb little girl anymore.." You finish, lifting your head to look at him, hoping that he'd finally believe you.

Joel's always treated you the same way he has when you were a kid, and it always frustrated the hell out of you. It's no doubt that Joel was an attractive man; you realized that when you were in high school, especially when your friends would come to your house to gawk at him at parties and family gatherings. You weren't blind, but you knew your attraction for him would get you nowhere.. not when he saw you the same way all these years.

At least, to you.

His head finally turns to you, eyes set on yours now, "You're a big girl now, huh.. s'that right? Y'gonna tell me that when you're with an asshole like that?" He chuckles out, cocking his head as he shakes it, "Thought you were better than that, baby.. That you'd actually give yourself to someone who deserves you.."

"Guess you're still that dumb little girl."

His words sting, making your eyes harden with your lips pressed tightly together. You scoff at him, tone harsh and direct, "The fuck do you want from me, Joel? What, y'want me to give myself to a real man like you?" spewing out the words without even giving it a second thought.

He immediately spits out what he's been thinking the entire time, nodding his head almost condescendingly as he inches his face closer to yours, "Yeah, that's what I fuckin' want. Maybe it'll knock some damn sense into that dumb head of yours, huh?”

You grit your teeth, heart thumping out of your chest as you rasp out, "You wouldn't even have the fucking guts, old man," but you knew damn well that you craved it. Craved him and the endless possibilities of what he could do to you. Breathing heavily, you can't deny the slick growing against your folds and through your panties.

Joel just grins at you, his gaze never leaving yours, "S'that right, honey? M' just some.. old man to you?" He snickers, his tongue poking out of his cheek for a moment, "Y'think I never noticed you all these years? Never heard you and your lil' friends talkin' about me?"

You gulp as your lick your drying lips, face softening while your heart races. Shaking your head to deny his accusations, your body freezes at the realization that he knows.

"Yeah.. you're not so slick, baby. Could see you watchin' me all these damn years.. Tellin' everyone how much you want me.. Y'can deny it all you want, sweetheart, but I see right through you. Right through this act."

He smirks as your eyes dart to the floor to avoid his stare, head tilting down as you fidget with your hands. Your body grows cold as you shake your head softly, denying the fact of the matter.

Joel's hand reaches up towards your face, his thumb and index finger lifting your head to look up at him, gripping onto your chin. "Ain't that right?" He chuckles out, making you turn your head to look away from him again nervously, but he doesn't let that slide.

He tuts his tongue, shaking his head as his grasp on your chin tightens just enough to have a firm grip on you, forcing you to look right at him. "No, no, don't do that, honey.. Look at me." He demands, your eyes finally staring into his own. You clear your throat, body shaking slightly as your adamant arousal for him increases.

You begin to stutter out, gulping, "J-Joel..", but he just cuts you off, implicit and direct with his intentions.

"Y’gonna let me fuck some sense into you, baby? That what you want? You’re about a second away from begging me for it, I fuckin’ see it. Can practically smell it off you, too." Joel spits out, his tone cocky and hitting directly to your core as he glances down at your thighs clenching together, “N’ look at you here..”

He chuckles out, removing his fingers from your chin to glide them down to your trembling thighs, his fingers almost pressing into the crevice that your thighs were pressed so tightly together to create. He wets his lips as his dark gaze glances back up to your face, whispering out desperately, "Tell me you want this, honey.. Tell me n' I'll make you forget all about your lil' boyfriend."

You breathe out through your mouth heavily, lips falling a bit open as your mind races. You've thought about this moment for so long now, and you could finally have it..

Fuck it.

Wetting your lips, you quickly put them on Joel's, desperation seething out of you as your eyes shut tightly. You moan into the kiss, Joel groaning into it too as he reaches his hands for your waist, gripping onto it tightly. He almost lifts you up, gesturing for you to get on top of his lap, needing to be close to you. You just follow his request, lifting yourself up from the passenger seat to fall into his lap and straddle his waist, immediately whimpering at the feeling of his bulging crotch pressing into your panties.

You had hoped that wearing a dress tonight would be a good choice, and you were right.

Breaking away from the kiss, the two of you gasp for air, breathing in heavily as you stare at Joel with delirious eyes, nearly high off the taste of him. He just smirks at you, reaching for your cheek to hold onto it, caressing it softly. "Bout' fuckin' time, baby.. Thought you'd never get the hint." He pants out, bringing your face close to press a dirty kiss on your lips, his tongue pushing against yours.

Your impatience gets the best of you, gripping his broad shoulders with your hands as you gain enough leverage to grind your core against his crotch, moaning loudly at the friction. You can already feel how huge he is, your cunt throbbing at the thought of it stretching you out.

His eager hands move down to grip your ass, moving you exactly how he wants, pressing you down onto him even harder. His lips break away from yours, groaning out, "Fuck, baby.. Fuckin' sexy, look at you.." He says, his gaze on your desperate face and glancing down at your hips and crotch grinding against him, "Shit.. That's it.. Pretty girl like you knows how to move."

You whimper at his words, growing wetter at the rough control he has on your body, and you love it. You can't help but let out little gasps, the desire you have for him increasing every time your bodies press together, making you crave his cock even more with each second that passes.

"F-Fuck.. need you, Joel, please.." You whine out, making his eyes flash up at yours as he chuckles, gripping onto your ass even tighter. He just shakes his head, saying, "No, baby.. Y'gonna take what you need from me right here. Wanna s'ya drench my thigh.."

"You do that f'me.. come all pretty & put on a lil' show for me? Maybe I'll give ya what y'want.." Joel mutters out to you, his lips just inches away from yours as he stares into your eyes, filled with lust and an intense ache for you. He wants to savor your body as long as he possibly can.

You nod your head quickly, biting your lower lip gently as you move your legs wrapped around him to sit in between one of his large thighs, moaning out once the rough fabric of his jeans hits your throbbing cunt.

You're soaked through your panties at this point, and you don't waste a second chasing your release. Your hips slowly start to move back and forth, grinding against his thigh as you whine. Licking your lips, you pant out, stuttering out his name repeatedly as your body does all the work for you. You're not even thinking at this point; your mind's completely gone blank and focused on one thing.

"That's it, honey.. Keep goin'.. Pretty lil' thing's so needy." Joel lets out, a low groan coming out as he watches your desperate face, staring right back at him with heavy eyes. It makes his cock grow even harder, knowing that he's finally got you like this.

His hands move to grip your hips, guiding them faster as they move to your ass, squeezing it harshly as a low chuckle escapes his throat. You gasp out at the touch, encouraging you to grind down on him even faster, stimulating your swollen clit as you cry out at the feeling.

Heat flows down to your cunt and lower stomach as your climax slowly begins to build up inside of you, and it's almost like Joel can feel it. Feeling how close you are, with your soaked pussy and slick drenching his jeans and thigh.

Just like he wanted.

One of his hands lifts up to smack your ass, an unrelenting force making you whine out at the sudden strike. It sends butterflies to your stomach and a sharp jolt to your core, forcing a moan out of you and a whine of his name on your tongue.

"Sorry, baby.. Y'got such a nice ass, been waitin' so long to do that.." Joel admits, letting out a faint laugh at your response to him. He cocks his head to the side and looks up at you, mouth slightly gaped open as his tongue plays with his cheek, "Ever knew how fuckin' hard you made me? Skimpin' around with your lil' dresses and shorts, passin' me like you knew what you were doin'. Y'never noticed how I'd.. turn my fuckin' head everytime you walked past me, baby.. Glancin' back at it so I could fuck my fist to the thought of you every night.."

"Fuck, fantasized about this fuckin' moment for so long now.."

Another blow of his large hand to your ass hits you unexpectedly, making you shake above him, your hips never slowing. You bite your lip as you look down at him, hands gripping his body to keep your strength. Butterflies fill your stomach as you hear his confession, making you groan.

Your breaths speed up as your climax increases, jaw falling open as you reply to him, "Did.. Did that on purpose, Joel.. Wanted you to look at me, to want me.. Didn't think it worked, fuck— touched myself all the time cus' of you.."

Your confession goes straight to Joel's cock, making him groan out at your dirty words, his fingers ingraining themselves into your ass as he moves your hips how he wants, wanting to push you to the edge already.

"Oh, it worked, honey.. Fuckin' gorgeous girl like you, what'd make y'think it didn't? I'd be a damn fool.." He grunts out, tone low right in your ear as you whimper, your clit growing incredibly sensitive as you grow even closer. "Y'gonna come for me, baby? Feel how fuckin' soaked you are f'me.. You're shaking.. Know y'can do it, come for me, sweet girl.. S'what you wanted this whole time, huh?" Joel encourages you, his hands moving from on top of your dress to underneath it, squeezing your bare ass with just your tiny panties barely covering yourself.

The direct contact of his rough hands on your flesh has you gasping out, the sudden coolness of your skin from his hot hands creating the perfect mix. You just nod your head eagerly as you stare into Joel's eyes, biting your bottom lip the more your aching cunt grinds on him. You stammer out, eyes hazy, "Mhm, f-fuck, Joel.. M'gonna come, p-please.."

Joel just smirks as he stares at your worn out face, nodding his head to encourage you. Sliding his hands down closer to your clothed pussy, his fingertips glide across your lips, your slick coating through your panties and onto his fingers. The feeling of it makes you hiss out as Joel whispers out to you, "Gonna give you what you need, baby.. C'mon now, let me see you.. Come for me now, be a good girl.."

Those words were the final push that you needed, making your cunt clench tightly around nothing, wishing that it was Joel's cock instead. You shut your eyes as you cry out, hands gripping onto Joel's body even tighter as he coos, whispering filthy, encouraging words into your ear while his hands help you chase your release. His hands on your ass begin to slow down, finally letting the weight of your hips rest on his thigh as your climax ends, the fast thumping in your chest slowing.

Breathing heavily, you let out small pants, chest rising up and down as you open your eyes to look at Joel. You give him a tired smile, giggling softly at the state you were in, and Joel grins back up at you, moving his hands up to hold onto your face. He presses a firm kiss on your lips, relishing the taste of you on his tongue. Breaking away from your lips, his thumbs caress your cheeks, looking into your eyes, "Did so good, honey.. Y'wanna return the favor? Prove to me that you deserve more?"

Your eyes widen at his words, nodding your head desperately as you lick your lips, hoping that he's implying what you thought he was. To be sure, you eagerly ask him, "O-Of course, Joel.. What d'you want me to do? Anything you want.."

Joel's lips curl up, grinning at the tone in your voice as he drags one of his hands down to yours to grab it. Guiding your hand, your palm reaches to his hard cock all pent up against his tight jeans, making you gasp out as a deep groan escapes his throat.

"Feel that, baby? Need your lips wrapped around me.. Y'gonna do that for me?" Joel mutters out to you, his gaze dark and set on you completely. Your breath hitches in your throat at his request, and the thought of the mere act makes your mouth water, making you nod your head quickly. "Yeah, fuck, I wanna do that for you.. Been wanting it for so long, Joel.." You admit to him, this time using your hand to squeeze his bulge, feeling how much he really needed you.

He lets out a faint moan, nodding his head back at you as he smirks at your hand squeezing him so good. He questions you, "Wanted what for so long, huh? Wanna hear it, honey."

Your cheeks grow flushed at his words, gulping slightly and hesitating to respond as you look away from him, which just makes him urge you on even more. "C'mon now, you already came all over my fuckin' thigh, I know y'not gettin' all shy on me now, sweetheart.." He teases you, chuckling as he presses his hand to your face, gently squeezing it, but you know his intentions are clear. He has so much power over you; more than you even thought.

His big hands grip onto your face, forcing you to turn to look at him. It's filthy, and you can't help but love it. He nods at you, a final push, and you finally stammer out at him, throat dry, "Wanted your.. cock, Joel.. W-Wanted to suck your cock for so long— fuck, please, Joel.."

He just lets out a faint laugh and nods his head, releasing your face from his hands and patting your cheek as if he was proud of you. "That's it, honey, wasn't so hard now, was it?" He teases you, licking his lips as his eyes flicker to your own, imagining them around him already. "Let's go to the back, baby.. S'gonna be more comfortable that way."

You nod at him as his strong hold is back on you, lifting your hips gently to guide you towards the back. Once the two of you are back there, Joel's legs are laid out on the entirety of the backseat, his back leaning against the door while you're set in between him; the perfect position and view for him to watch you put on a show.

Joel seems to be impatient waiting for you to make your move, as he cocks his head to the side and stares at you. He questions, "What y'waiting for, baby? You're a big girl, aren't you? Don't need me to tell you what to do now, do I?"

You lick your lips nervously as you stare at him, giving him a small, anxious smile. It's not because you've never sucked cock before, but this was Joel, and you wanted it to be good for him. More than you've ever been with anyone else before, and especially your 'boyfriend'.

"N-No, Joel, I got it.." You respond to him, leaning your body closer as your hands reach for the zipper of his jeans. Unbuttoning them, you pull them down a bit with the help of Joel's hips lifting, and your eyes immediately latch onto his huge cock, bulging against his boxers.

You sigh out as your hands glide from his large thighs to his underwear, reaching underneath the hem of the fabric to grasp onto his cock, pulling it out. The mere sight of it makes your jaw fall open slightly, gasping and mouth watering at how thick he was. Fuck, he's the biggest you've ever seen. It made you a bit nervous, but so fucking aroused, as you feel the slick growing between your folds because of it.

Your reaction makes Joel chuckle, leaning his head a bit forward to get a better look at the expression on your face. He lifts his hand to press his fingers against your cheek, holding onto your jaw and caressing your cheek with his thumb. It makes you look back up at him as he questions you, "Too big for you, honey? You ever even sucked cock before?"

You gulp as you purse your lips, nodding your head slightly, "I.. Yeah, I have, but fuck— never this big, Joel.." You respond to him truthfully, your stomach filling up with butterflies of a mixture of nerves and arousal.

He grins at you, laughing a bit cockily, "Don't worry, baby.. Gonna take me real good, right? Make me proud?" He challenges you, the fingers placed on your cheek now sliding down towards your lips, gently pressing the tips of them right at the entrance of your mouth. "Let's start off with these, huh? Wanna see if y'can take em' like you're gonna take me.."

You whimper at his words that hit you right to your core, making you clench around nothing. You couldn't wait for him to fuck you already. You just nod your head slowly, eyes never leaving his as you gently open your mouth for him. Joel takes this as an invitation to continue, slowly moving his index and middle fingers in your mouth.

"Suck on em', baby.. Lemme see what y'can do.." Joel tells you, his head lifting up a bit as his dark gaze looks down at your lips. You just obey him, closing your lips around his fat fingers as he inches them further and further in your mouth towards your throat. Your tongue falls flat underneath his fingers, sucking on them gently as you lift your hands to hold onto his wrist.

Joel starts to grin at you, humming out in satisfaction as he encourages you, "There we go, pretty fuckin' lips.. Show me how you'd suck my cock, c'mon now.."

You moan around his fingers, both of your hands gripping onto his wrist as you use it to pull them out of your mouth, guiding them back in deep as if they really were his cock. You shut your eyes at the feeling of it, reaching further down your throat as you moan again. The taste of him is intoxicating.

Your eyes open back up to stare at him intently, and Joel gives you a light smile, making you feel that sense of pride that you've always craved from him. "Good fuckin' girl.. Shit, lookin' so good like this, baby.." He mutters out lowly, a faint groan coming out.

Before you can continue, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, immediately making you feel empty. You whine out softly at your disappointment which makes him chuckle, reassuring you, "C'mon, honey— Think y'ready now. Make it good for me, yeah?"

You nod eagerly, wanting nothing more than to please him as much as you could. You lean a bit back, giving yourself a bit more room to get in the right position as your hands reach for his cock again. Wrapping a hand around him, you notice that he isn't even fully hard yet, and he's already so fucking big. It doesn't ease your nerves in the slightest, but the ache you feel for him in your cunt distracts you from it completely.

Lowering your head and body, your lips inch closer and closer to the fat head of his cock while your hand slowly strokes him up and down, trying to get him fully hard for your mouth to take him. You look up at him as your lips wrap around the tip of it, sucking onto it gently as you feel him finally harden in your mouth.

Your tongue does its work, circling around him and licking the tip of it while you suck, your eyes never leaving his as his own flicker all over your face; your eyes, your lips. Joel lets out a low groan, reaching over to your head to hold onto it to have some leverage to encourage you.

You slowly lower your head now, taking his cock deeper into your mouth as you moan around it, sending vibrations through Joel's entire body as he hisses at the feeling. "Fuck, that's it.. Deeper, baby, lemme see how much y'can take.." Joel's words fill your ears as you continue, your mouth barely able to take him all the way to the base.

His cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag at the sudden intrusion. Your eyes water as you blink, still staring back up at him to see that reaction on his face. You notice how it twists in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment, and you lift your head back up to gasp for air, immediately lowering your lips back onto him so you don't waste any second that passes.

The noises that Joel makes are filthy, filling your ears and making them burn as your mouth never falters, jaw stretched out as wide as possible for you to take all of him. Joel's grunts become louder, and you take that as sign that you're doing things right, which makes your body fill with pride.

Closing your eyes, you relish the feeling of his heavy cock on your tongue, the fat tip of it letting out small spurts of pre-cum down your throat. The taste of him only makes you push your head down even further, attempting to take him all the way to the base, but he hits the back of your throat, making you gag out at the unexpected impact.

Before you can lift your head up, Joel's grip on your head tightens as he holds you there, his throat letting out low pants as he stares right at your lips connecting to the base of his cock. Groaning out, he laughs faintly, saying, "Take it, honey, doin' so good for me, f-fuck.."

Barely processing it all, he uses his other hand to slap your face almost condescendingly, and it just makes you moan around him, your throat clenching and eyes opening up to look at him. You didn't even know you liked that, but Joel's power over you has you nearly seeing stars.

Joel lets out a chuckle, all mean and teasingly, "Fuck, yeah.. Dirty girl, you like that shit?" He asks you, and you moan around his cock again, nose breathing in heavily for air as your eyes droop down a bit, nearly high off the feeling of him using your throat. Laughing out, a smirk appears on his face as his hand's grip on you pulls you back up for a moment so you can breathe properly.

Without him even having to encourage you, your mouth is back on him once you catch your breath, desperate to please him and taste his cock again. It makes Joel grunt out, snickering out at you, "Fuck, you're worse than I thought, baby.. You act so innocent, but you're takin' cock like s'all you're meant for.."

You hum against him, eyes looking back up as you take him deeper with your tongue flattening underneath his shaft, and it drives Joel crazy. He just hisses out, hand on your head once again, "Shit.. I'm right, ain't I? Pretty throat’s been craving this, huh? Lil’ boyfriend couldn’t satisfy you.. Thas’ okay, m’ right here now, honey..”

His words send a throbbing pang to your cunt, growing wetter at the thought of him and knowing that he's satisfying your needs more than your boyfriend ever could. It makes you realize that Joel was right; that he was the real man that you needed.

Joel's hands start to guide your lips now, moving your head up and down on him as he watches his cock disappear back down your throat over and over again. Your jaw falls slack as you let him use you just how he wants, eyes watering with tears threatening to fall as his thick cock continues to stretch your lips and throat so good.

The look on your face is nearly pornographic, your lips shaped tightly right around the girth of his cock as if it was a hole meant for him to fuck. The sight of you makes Joel's cock twitch, moaning lowly as he pants out, “What would y’family think if they saw you like this, honey? Lookin’ like a fuckin’ whore with my cock down your throat, like the fuckin’ slut you are. That’s just what you are, right, baby? A lil’ whore for me, s’that it? Gonna let me keep you.. fuck you when I want? Know that’s what you want..”

You just nod your head eagerly at him, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sound of his nasty words, and it feels so fucked up knowing that it's turning you on so much. You've always imagined what it'd be like for Joel to just use you how he wants, imagining how it'd be like, and now it's finally happening.

Joel chuckles out at your response to him, and he grunts out as his climax builds up, unexpectedly pulling your mouth off of him as you gasp out for air. Your face looks confused and disheveled, but Joel assures you, "Don't wanna come just yet, baby, we got time for that later. Wanna be in you now."

Before you can respond to him, Joel leans in towards you, his hands reaching out for your body to move you how he wants. Grasping onto your sides, he lifts you slightly to turn you around, moving you to get on your knees to crawl and face away from him. Your body just follows his hands until he has you where he wants, getting onto your hands and knees, bent over for him to stare out the window.

Your breathing grows heavier, gulping softly as you turn your head to look back at him. Joel doesn't waste a second to immediately cherish the view in front of him, his hands now roaming from your calves right up to your thighs, savoring your skin on his fingertips that are now inching towards your aching core.

Your dress is the perfect length for him to see you completely; not too long and not too short, but it's too much coverage for Joel's liking anyways.

His hands move up towards your ass, instinctively pushing the fabric covering you up and over, resting it on your lower back so his view is right of your clothed cunt. Your wet slick has seeped through the light fabric, making Joel chuckle out as he stares right at it. His eyes make you blush, a bit of embarrassment filling your cheeks evidently as you look away from him for a moment.

He just glances up at you and grins, shaking his head at your reaction, "No need to get shy, baby.. S'hot, y'know that? Knowin' this pretty pussy's all soaked for me? Shit.." Joel lets out, laughing faintly as his stare returns back to your cunt, hands sliding back down to your ass. His thumb runs across your folds pressed so tightly together by your thighs, making you gasp and shiver out at the touch.

He moves his other hand now, index and middle finger sliding just beneath the side of your panties to get a good grip of it, pulling it to the side so he can see your throbbing hole and wet folds. It's a dirty scene right in front of him, but it has his cock twitching at the sight.

"Fuck, look at that.. Need me that bad, baby?" Joel whispers out to you, his eyes flickering up to your desperate face and back down. His stare and words make you whine out, your hole clenching around nothing as you swallow.

You do need him that bad, and you were getting impatient.

The action makes Joel sigh out, his thumb now sliding against your bare cunt and through your lips, gathering up how wet you were. His thumb now finds your entrance, pressing in just the tip of it as his eyes move back up to your face, eager to see your reaction.

You just moan out and clench around it desperately, eyes shutting for a moment as your heart races. "Fuck, Joel, just fuck me already, p-please.. Need it so bad.." You beg him, biting your bottom lip harshly as your wide eyes stare into his own.

He just licks his lips as he hears you, considering it for a moment. "Y'think you can take me like this, honey? Don't need me to do anything else? Might hurt.." He asks you, his concerns still evident despite the position you two were in.

You just nod your head at him quickly, whining out softly, "Yeah, fuck, I can take it, please— just need you, Joel.." Your chest rises as you breathe in heavily, wanting him to fuck you already.

Joel smirks at your pleads, the desperation getting the best of you, and it makes his cock even harder. He just nods up at you and removes his thumb from your cunt, shifting his knees and hips closer to your ass as he grips his cock with his hand.

He glides the tip of it up and down your folds, gathering the slick as much as he could. Pressing it against your entrance, he looks up at your face, his other hand gripping onto your hip as he slowly eases it into you. The stretch of him makes you hiss out, shutting your eyes at the intrusion and how big he is.

You stammer out, "F-Fuck, Joel.." as you pant softly, taking in deep breaths to let your walls relax and adjust to him as much as you could. He just grips onto your hip even tighter, giving you a sense of guidance and reassurance.

Joel's heart races at the feeling of your walls clench around him, feeling how tight you are. Grunting out, he pushes himself even deeper inside of you, still taking his time, "Good girl, baby.. Doin' so good, y'feel so good, shit.." He gasps out, his eyes now fixed onto the sight of his cock entering your stretched out cunt.

"Tight fuckin' pussy.. Haven't had one like this in so long, fuck.."

Your breaths speed up with each inch that fills you up, the girth of him creating a stinging ache between your thighs that were nearly trembling. The grasp your walls has on his cock makes it almost harder for him to move further, so he pauses— taking a second for you to adjust.

"You okay, honey? Doin' so good for me, such a sweet girl.." He murmurs out to you, almost panting out as he hisses out. His hands gently caress your lower back and ass, reassuring you as he bends over a bit to press small kisses on your skin. It makes you shiver, nodding your head in response to him, "M' okay, Joel.. Feels so good, p-please move.."

His heavy eyes look back up at you, acknowledging your request and smiling softly. It sends butterflies through your stomach at the thought of him caring so much about you, making sure that you were comfortable and enjoying yourself just as much as he was.

He presses one last kiss to your lower back, pressing his hands on it as he lifts himself back up. Gripping onto your hips, he nods at you and finally pushes himself all the way inside of your throbbing cunt, his hips now flushed against your own. The sudden movement makes you gasp out, your hands holding your body up attempting to squeeze onto the fabric of the seat.

"J-Joel!" You moan his name, eyes closing harshly at the feeling of the fat tip of his cock pressing so deep inside of you, making your involuntary walls constrict around him. It creates a burn in your lower stomach, your body growing hot at the feeling. It makes Joel grunt out, his neck lifting up for a moment to take a breath as he looks back down at your hips connected to his, hands caressing your skin.

He rocks his hips against yours, moving just slightly to get some friction as he allows you to adjust, groaning, "That's it, there y'go.. Knew you could take it, baby, fuck— Feelin' so good wrapped around me, s'it what you wanted?" He asks you, eyes flickering up at your face. Biting your lip, you nod, stammering out, "Mmphf— Y-You're.. so deep, shit, feels so good.."

He chuckles out, stare fixed on your worn out face as he pulls his hips back a bit, taking his time to thrust back into you as deep as he could. He wanted to prove to himself that what you were saying was true.

"S'that right, sweetheart? So deep? Y'feel me right here?" He asks, moving one of his hands just beneath your body and sliding it to your lower stomach, pressing harshly against it. It makes you gasp, feeling the bulge of his cock imprinting itself. You whine, breathing out, "O-Oh, fuck, Joel.. Yeah, feel you right there.."

He just grins at your response, muttering out, "That's fuckin' right, honey.. n' I'm the only one who's ever been this deep, huh?" He urges you on, head leaning a bit closer to you as his hips press tightly against your pussy.

You cry out, shutting your eyes for a moment as you nod, unable to fully form a coherent sentence for him. He just tuts his tongue, head shaking disapprovingly as he pulls his hips back all of the way, not taking a second to wait to slam himself back into you.

It makes you grunt, eyes shooting open as his words fill your ears, the slight mean tone in his voice making your face burn, "Asked you a question, baby.. So you tell me, your lil' boyfriend ever fuck you this good, honey? Fill this pretty pussy this deep?"

Your mind grows hazy, cheeks flushed as you attempt to spit out what he wants to hear, "N-No, Joel.. I, I-"

"No? No? C'mon, haven't even really fucked you yet n' you're already actin' so dumb.. S'that it, cock just make you all stupid for me?"

Tears fill your eyes as his hips pull and push right back into you again, giving you another thrust of his thick cock as you sob out, "J-Joel, shit, no, it jus'.. feels too good, p-please.." You moan, feeling the tight grip his fingers have on your ass nearly imprinting themselves into your skin.

"C'mon now.. Louder, baby, lemme hear it.. Tell me, wanna hear it loud n' clear.. Answer my question.." He pushes you, tone growing louder and strict. His thrusts begin to create an increasing rhythm that makes your jaw drop open at the feeling, his cock stretching your tight walls out with each push of his hips.

"No, Joel! N-Never.. never fucked me this good, oh fuck, never.. this d-deep.. shit!" You blurt out, mind barely thinking as you spit the words out. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, your brain and body goes numb, shuttering at the feeling of his unrelenting movements as your head hangs low, staring at your hands gripping the seat.

Joel's grunts and moans surround you completely as your ears begin to ring, his faint laugh and sudden smack of his hand on your ass snapping you out of it at the sting, "That's right.. pretty girl knows her place, fuck," He rushes out, suddenly grasping onto your hair to pull your head back, making you cry out, "Knew you'd be so good for me, honey.. Actin' like a fuckin' slut, takin' my cock this good.."

You breath out heavily, panting out as he holds back your head by his rough grip on your hair, pulling you back a bit to turn your head to try and get a look at him. His words make your pussy clench around him even tighter, turned on at his degradation.

You hum softly, whining as you nod your head gently, tears filling your eyes and threatening to fall as his pace grows even faster, now slamming into your cunt over and over again. He chuckles and grins at the slight sight of your eyes filling up, making him pout condescendingly at you.

"What? M' I wrong, honey? Y'gonna tell me you haven't been practically begging me to fuck you all these years? To treat you like this; like the slut you are, huh?" He taunts you, pulling his cock out all the way to rest against your entrance, and slamming it back in as deep as he could, "Know it's all you've wanted.. all you've ever fantasized about.. Y'don't gotta do that anymore, baby.. cus' I'm right here. Gonna treat you like the fuckin' whore you are.. That's what you are to me.. My fuckin' slut."

A tear finally falls down your cheek, making your lungs fill with air as you pant, mouth falling open and cunt convulsing around him. The tip of his cock keeps hitting the deepest spot inside of you, nearly making you blank out as his words make your cheeks flush. "J-Joel, I—"

Before you can stammer anything else out, Joel's grip on your hair now pulls your body up completely, making your back hit his strong chest, despite it being covered by his tight shirt. Your breath hitches in your throat, barely able to think as his sudden hand lets go of your hair and wraps it around your neck, holding your body right against him.

Keeping you still with the control he has, you moan out and flutter your eyes shut, body shaking and tightening up at him choking you. The back of your head lays on his shoulder, resting it there as he leans in close to your ear, whispering out, "Gonna ruin you for everyone else, baby.. Every time anybody else fucks you, you're gonna think of me; me and my fuckin' cock making you fall apart.. Y'gonna come runnin' back to me.. every fuckin' time— M' gonna make sure of it."

Your eyes open hazily, widening at his words as the grip he has on your throat suddenly pushes you away, making your chest and upper body fall down against the seat, arms not even having any power to hold yourself up. His hands and fingertips sink back into your lower back, now pressing your stomach flush against the seat as it creates an angle that makes you feel him deeper than you've ever felt before.

You can barely process it now, your mouth spewing incoherent noises and words as he holds you down, practically using you just how he pleases. Your hips pushed against the seat are constantly being driven by his thrusts, your pubic bone and sensitive clit being stimulated with each shove.

It makes your eyes shut tightly, unable to control yourself as you pant and moan out for him repeatedly, your hands shaking as you can barely get yourself to hold onto something. His cock buries itself inside of your throbbing cunt over and over again, Joel laughing at the squelching noises that your pussy was letting out.

Before he can say anything, a ring fills his ears that suddenly grab his attention, making his head turn as his movements slow just enough to grasp your attention to make you turn your head and look at the source too.

Your phone, laying on the middle compartment right next to Joel; he reaches for it and sees who's calling, making him grin and chuckle out.

Your boyfriend.

"Well, would y'look at this, honey? Talkin' about runnin' back.." Joel mutters out, turning the phone towards your direction for you to see it too. It just makes your eyes widen, cunt clenching as Joel tests you, "Why don't we let em' hear what you're up to, baby? See how much he's missin' out, huh?"

You know it's so fucking wrong; yet, so fucking right.

Joel doesn't even wait for your response, and just licks his lips and presses answer, putting it on speaker as he lays the phone flat against your back, lifting one of his hands on your hips to smack your ass. The force creates a loud spank, filling the phone's speakers as Joel's hips begin to move at a faster pace again.

It makes you mewl out, tears falling down your face again as your hands try to grip on the seat you were laying on. His grunts are loud and lewd, the snap of his hips smacking against your ass and thighs as he makes you take his cock repeatedly, "There y'go, just like that.." He mumbles out.

Your boyfriend's voice fills your ears now, confusion and the evident drunken tone making you roll your eyes, "The fuck? What was that, baby?"

Before you can even respond, Joel cuts you off, doing the job right for you.

"Y'don't gotta worry about her anymore.. M' takin' real good care of her now.. Ain't that right, baby?" Joel groans out, smacking your ass again as he leans in closer towards your back, nearly laying his chest against you. You just whine out in response, nodding your head quickly as Joel urges you further, tutting his tongue, "No, no, lemme hear it, honey.. Why don't y'tell him yourself? Let him know how good you're takin' my cock.."

Your body and face grows hot, licking your dry lips as you stutter, "F-Feels so g-good, Joel.. You're takin' such good care of me now, I—"

"What the fuck, babe? No, no, this can't be fucking happening."

Joel laughs loudly at your boyfriend's words, leaning his head closer to speak right into your phone, "Oh, but it is, boy. Not m'fault you couldn't fuck your girl this good. But, wait.. she isn't 'your girl' anymore now, is she?" He asks him, the arrogant tone spewing out as his voice lowers.

He reaches his hand over to your neck again, wrapping it around and squeezing it tightly as he ruts himself in you fast and hard, the pace and the hold of his fingers making you scream out his name.

"You fucking asshole, I'll fucking—"

Joel just cuts him off, sighing out annoyingly as he shakes his head, "Shut the fuck up. Don't you fuckin' call her again, much less lay a hand on her. You do that n' I find out?— I will find you. N' I'll make sure to break every bone in your fuckin' body, boy."

As your boyfriend gasps at his words, he begins to stutter some pathetic shit that Joel doesn't wanna bother hearing anymore; so he ends the call, tossing your phone to the side to focus back on you completely.

Shutting his eyes, Joel sighs out as he presses firm, yet gentle kisses to your back, his hips now going a bit slower, but deliberately harder so you can feel every inch of him, cherishing your tight cunt with each second that passes.

"There we go, honey.. Took care of that for you, y'don't gotta worry about him now, fuck— M' gonna make you feel so good.. y'won't need anyone else.." Joel whispers in your ear, laying his chest and body completely over your back as his entire being consumes you, his cock filling you to the brim with each push and pull.

His chin rests just below your shoulder now, grunting into your ear as he mutters filthy words into it, "That right, baby? M' I the only one you need? Gonna let me be the only one who can fuck this pretty little pussy? F-Fuck, please.. lemme hear it, shit— need to hear you say it.."

The pace of his movements start to speed up again as you stammer out, "Y-Yeah, Joel, you're the only one I need, fuck!" his cock twitching at your confession as you continue, "Only need you, only want your cock in me, please— need you to fill me up, make me yours, Joel.."

He moans at your words, panting out as he feels himself growing closer at your pleads, and you're right with him too. His cock hits that spot in your core over and over again, making you wail and sob out at the feeling of your stomach tightening and coiling, biting your lower lip harder to try and stop you from blabbering out.

"Don't do that, baby, no, wanna hear you— please, make those pretty lil' noises for me, honey, y'sound so pretty like this," Joel blurts out, unable to even think as he slams his hips against your ass, creating a sting that makes you lightheaded with your climax growing furiously, "Gonna make me come so deep inside you, baby, jus' like you want.."

His words hit something inside you, making you suddenly see stars as your pussy convulses around his cock, clenching and grasping onto him tightly as you come, your slick coating your thighs and his cock completely. Your body shakes and trembles as he fucks you through it, laughing faintly at your sudden orgasm. "Oh, fuck— there y'go baby, pretty fuckin' girl, take it.." Joel moans out, panting even louder and faster as he chases his own release.

You cry out, your cunt being overstimulated by his unrelenting thrusts as he buries himself even harder and deeper into you, making you spew out, "Shit, Joel! C-Come inside me, fill me up, please, please, need it so—"

Joel's loud grunts cut you off, feeling the sudden warmth of his come spill inside of you completely as he slams his cock in as deep as he can, making sure you feel every inch of him and his come. His hips rock into you, grinding his pelvis harshly to try and get even a fraction of him deeper inside of you. It makes you wince out, your sore cunt oversensitive at the feeling.

His body completely gives out on top of yours, his breaths filling your ears as you both take each other in, falling from your highs and trying your best to relax. You laugh softly as you process everything that's just happened, and Joel does the same, pressing small kisses to the back of your neck as his hand lets it go.

"Shit, honey— so fuckin' good.. You alright?" He mutters out, chuckling as you turn your head slightly to look at him, taking in your worn and fucked out face. You just nod your head at him, feeling a bit hazy as you smile, laughing out, "Yeah.. Never better."

Joel's eyes glimmer as he swallows, pushing aside the hair that was covering your face as he admires you, grinning softly at you, "Should've done this years ago.. Y'been holdin' back on me, baby." He murmurs out, his smile widening.

You press a small kiss to his lips, licking your own as you correct him, "Been trying to get you to for years, Joel.. not my fault it took this long." He just shakes his head amusingly, pursing his lips.

"Well.. Y'wanna stay with me for the night? Maybe I can teach y'another lesson on how a.. 'real man' should treat ya?" He proposes to you, laughing at his reference of what he said to you earlier and what started this in the first place.

You just smile at him and nod your head eagerly:

"Wouldn't want anything more."

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a/n: kinda wanted to make joel threaten/hit reader's bf, but i figured joel's idea of revenge was so much sweeter <3

this is by far my fav fic i've written out of my 1st three, so i’d love some feedback from you all! ♥️

wanna be on a taglist? fill out the google form in my pinned post!

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reblogs are appreciated!

send me requests & i might write it for you! :)

[amuyyi]

warm enough .

synopsis; recovering from an expected breakup, you find yourself drunk at a nearby bar, encountering an unfamiliar girl who happens to know your ex.

trope; non idol!ningning x fem!reader, uni au, fluff, a little angst, a little suggestive, strangers to lovers, feat. kep1er members :3

wc; 4.8k

cw; a little suggestive but not really

a/n; fun fact this happened to me irl ! figured i could use my experiences for stories ! everything from the breakup to the bar kiss is based on my personal experience so lol have fun. also its kinda poorly written because i wrote some of it while on the plane + in china while being very tired and i dont feel like proofreading so im sorry ^^'

The breakup was supposed to be a mutual thing. A smooth and easy agreement between you and Jimin. You guys met in a cafe when your soon-to-be-ex girlfriend finally dropped the bomb on you. 

“I still care a lot about you, y/n. But I want to focus on myself and my future… I think you should too.”

You wanted to speak up, say that you didn’t want to let go yet. Just… hold on for a little longer. Maybe it’d get better if you guys just kept it going for another week. Another month. Another day?

 “What I’m trying to say is…”

You always hated this part.

“I think we should break up.”

Despite the older girl being the one to initiate the ending of the relationship, you always knew it was coming. Jimin was sweet, and you definitely did enjoy the little dates you guys had been on through the past year, but there was something missing. Every time she looked at you, it seemed like she was looking through your eyes into her own. Her mind was always elsewhere whenever you two were together, like she was searching for something you couldn’t provide. She never seemed to smile around you, never laughed loudly or hugged you with warmth. 

You really tried to be the person for her, you really did; but it was apparent that she was trying to convince herself you were the one as well.

It was shown in the way she bought you endless gifts with things you said you wanted, but never kissed you, In the way she would allow you to hold her hand, but never reached out herself, how she couldn’t bring herself to say “I love you” out loud. Jimin was cold.

You agreed that this was the best path to take, how you felt the exact same way and that it would be good for the both of you, but the tears that nonconsensually left your eyes said otherwise. You still remember the last words you told her before you got up to leave.

“I really hoped it was you.”

There's a saying or the other. “Your body will know if someone is right for you.” You came across it while aimlessly scrolling on social media once, and you thought it was an interesting but ridiculous concept. Countless people would share stories about how their hair would fall out or how they would break out into horrible acne when they were with their past partners, only being relieved from this when single or with their “match.”

It was funny, and you didn’t believe one bit of it until it actually happened. The tightness in your chest that followed you every time you two went out together, the stress of wondering if she actually enjoyed her company, the way you couldn’t truly relax in her presence– it all went away. It all left when she walked out of your life, and you’ve never felt more at peace with a decision. At least, for a little bit.

The breakup was the easy part. It was the recovery that ruined you.

You were the one to establish a rule of no contact, even after you both expressed wanting to stay in touch. It was your only way to hold on to the last sliver of pride you had left after spending a year chasing after Yu Jimin. The rule was established to allow you some time to heal, and you hoped to return to the girl as friends once you felt ready.

With this in mind, you then proceeded to spend a month barely eating, barely sleeping, and not leaving your apartment unless you needed to for classes. It was difficult to be on your own after dedicating so much time to her, falling behind, hoping that she would see you the way you saw her; but after about a month, you slowly felt yourself regaining your footing.

You started going out again, talking with your roommate, taking time to actually care for yourself. It was nice. Perhaps your progress would have left you comfortable enough to move on if you didn’t decide to go out that day.

There she was. Yu Jimin. After an exact 31 days of no contact with her, you finally cross paths. Quite literally, at that– but she wasn’t alone. There was a girl on her arm. She was pretty. Blonde with bobbed hair and a soft smile that made it impossible to hate her. Jimin was smiling too. This is the first time you’ve seen her smile like that, smiling as if she found what she was looking for after all of this time. She doesn't look past her. She sees her.

Jimin holds the other girl by the small of her waist the way she used to do with you, and she kisses her. She kissed her. Just like how she used to kiss you, but not exactly. There's love in her eyes. A warmth you’ve never seen before. In her eyes, there is certainty.

And that was the day your world came crashing down on top of you.

You tried to act normal as you walked past. You really did. Your eyes remain glued to your phone as your knuckles turn white. Her eyes didn’t even meet yours as you walked by. Why wouldn't she look at you? Maybe she's wondering why you won't look at her. That must be it. You hold your breath. As soon as she passed by, you couldn’t help yourself. You made the mistake of looking back.

…Nothing.

As soon as Jimin was out of sight, you cried. You ran home, scaring half the life out of your poor roommate, Xiaoting, as you collapsed in your bed. Everything hurts. Why did it hurt? You wanted this. You felt better without her— the tightness in your chest was gone. 

Instead, it was replaced by an indescribably painful ache. One that felt so deep within your soul it would never heal. Quietly entering your room, Xiaoting says nothing as she sits next to your limp body on the bed, rubbing your back comfortingly. The gesture only makes you sob even harder. 

She's been with you through it all. From the beginning of your relationship with Jimin till the end, she was there. Xiaoting really was a good friend.

From then on, Xiaoting’s one goal was simple: cheer you up. She would cook at least once for you every day despite not being the best chef, and she would allow you to rant about the same things over and over no matter how overbearing it got. Honestly, you started to feel a little bad. She shouldn’t have to bend over backwards for you just because you’re a little sad.

So when Xiaoting announces that you will be joining her at the bar with her friends tonight, you couldn't say no. Both because she stated it, not asked you, and that it simply was the least you could do for her. Especially after everything she’s done for you. Before you knew it, you were dressed up in your best (slutty) corset top and cargo pants with some hoops and over exaggerated makeup to accent the look. Xiaoting, as your best roommate and friend, matches with you, and you two make a big scene out of getting ready together; blasting music, doing each other's hair, borrowing each other's clothes, and more.

Xiaoting’s girlfriend Yujin had made herself at home for the pregame, and your mutual friend Hikaru soon followed. With Xiaoting as designated bartender, the four of you mingle, laughing and cracking jokes as the warmth of the alcohol and one another’s presence left you with a warming buzz. Xiaoting was an excellent mixer, and in combination with the chasers Hikaru bought and the drinking games Yujin proposed, you were all ready to go. 

Xiaoting and Yujin led the way, hand in hand as you and Hikaru trailed behind, drunkenly singing into the cold night air as you trek to the nearest bar.

Being a Friday night, the establishment had been as packed as expected, and you all squeezed your way past other visitors as you’re guided to a nearby table. Xiaoting starts off strong, ordering shots for the entire group before utilizing her combined charm alongside her girlfriend’s looks to convince guys to purchase drinks for everyone as well. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way the duo would bat their eyelashes innocently at lone men for drinks– but at least it worked.

Lazily, your eyes wander through the crowd, the alcohol in your system making it a struggle to see straight. Despite your inability to see properly, you still manage to catch a glimpse of your friends from the corner of your eye, and easily spot Yujin attempting to very publicly make out with Xiaoting as Hikaru struggles to pull her away. You stifle a laugh at the sight, and decide to leave the three to their antics whilst you look for someone to talk to.

It's been a while since you last struck up a conversation with a stranger. The last time you had put yourself out there was before you met… 

You shake your head. No. You are not letting your stupid ex ruin your night. Knitting your brows in concentration, you scan the bar. There were plenty of pretty girls to talk to, but you were feeling a little intimidated. Almost all of them came with at least one other person, and you didn’t want to intrude on anything…

 Your eyes landed on a lone blonde at the end of the table, scrolling through her phone with alcohol flushed cheeks. She seemed approachable. Worst case scenario, she simply shoos you off. Taking a deep breath, you approach the blonde, deciding to pull out your best conversation starter.

“Are you chinese? You look chinese!!” You exclaim, suddenly switching to mandarin in the middle of your sentence as you ask the question. Smooth.

The blonde girl looks as if she would’ve been extremely offended at the comment if you didn't just speak to her in her native tongue halfway through your sentence, and she quirks a brow at you, an amused smirk on her lips as she leans against the bar. 

“Yeah, I am! What's a cutie like you doing in a place like this alone??” 

You feel your heart begin to race. So far so good. “I'm not alone!!! My friends are just busy making out with each other and the other is trying to stop them!!” You also lean on the bar, though not as alluring as the blonde before you. More like you partially collapsed and partially slid on it.

She chortles at your response, “well that's not fair to you, leaving you here all alone.”

The sweet and somewhat sultry tone of the blonde makes (non alcohol induced) blush appear on your face as you laugh, “it really isn't! But whatever! My name is y/n by the way!! What's yours??” You scream over the music, sticking your hand out. It was an unexpectedly polite gesture considering your circumstances, and perhaps it may have seemed a bit comical as well with how drunk you were.

She giggles at the response, grabbing your hand then pulling you in, her lips dangerously close to your ear as she yells over the music, “Ning Yizhuo. But call me Ningning! It's cuter!”

You grin. Ningning was a cute nickname. You decided at this very moment you could trust this cute stranger with your life story and personal information she didn’t ask for, and begin to slur out.

“My friends dragged me out here because I was sad over my ex who moved on from me a month after the breakup even though we dated for a year and she's a big jerk for that even though I wish only the best for her but also I hope she dies!!!”

None of the words you spoke just now came out clear, and they seemed to trip over one another when leaving your mouth, but it was enough for the other girl to go from extremely relaxed to suddenly very heated. She stands up straight as her eyebrows knit together.

“To be honest I don’t think she ever really liked me in the first place! I don’t know!! Whatever it doesn’t matter!!!” You continue on, sounding absolutely pathetic as you let yourself feel through the anger you didn’t even know you were repressing, “I was stupid to stay with someone who couldn’t even look me in the eye when saying she loved me!! She was stupid to do the same!! Whatever!! I don’t know!!”

Ningning cuts you off with a raised hand before you can continue, “what the hell?! I hate people like that!!  You're wayyyy too hot to be treated that way! Who is she? What's her name?? I might know her!!”

Against your better drunken judgment, you decide to name drop your ex within a university bar. Because that is always a good idea. “Yu Jimin!! She's a engineering major !!!”

Ningning’s jaw drops as she stares at you, almost as if she were trying to find the correct words for what she has to say next.

“Girl, I know her !!!” She screams out after a brief moment of silence,  “we shared a class together once!! Oh my god I'm so sorry I didn't know she was like that!! You deserve BETTER!” 

Before you could even think of what to say in reaction to that heavy load of information, Ningning grabs your face, pulling you into a kiss. It was a very messy one, her lips almost missing your own during the exchange. Seems like she's not entirely sober either. 

Still, even in your drunken state you knew what to do. Your hands immediately find Ningnings hair as you pull her in closer, and you can feel her smiling as she grazes her tongue over the bottom of your lip. 

You open your mouth to let her in and the only thing that you can think of or even feel for that matter is Ningning and her tongue. She… was really good at this. Jimin never kissed you like this before. Her hands trail down your back to your ass before she squeezes it, smirking when you squirm against her touch.

She breaks the kiss, her face inches away from yours as she breathes out, “you deserve so much better…” Ningning gives you a quick peck on the lips before stepping back, taking in her work with a devilish glint in her eyes. You stare at her dumbfounded for a moment before whipping out your phone, fully talking in your appearance. Your hair and makeup were a wreck. How did all of that happen just now?

“Done by yours truly~” Ningning winks at you, quickly slipping your phone out of your hand and typing something in.

“Wh— Wait what are you doing?”

“Giving you my number, obviously. My girls are gonna wonder where I went.” She hands back your phone and looks at you with soft eyes through her drunken daze. 

“Take care of yourself, yeah?” Ningning kisses you one last time, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go. She disappears into the crowd of partygoers, a sly fox-like grin on her face.

“There you are!” 

You feel an arm land on your shoulder as you jump, twirling around and looking down to see a drunk Hikaru with a slightly less drunk Xiaoting and an absolutely hammered Yujin on her side.

“We should probably head back home!” Xiaoting screams into your ear, “Hikaru’s gonna knock out on the couch and Yujin will be with me!”

Her words barely make it through to you, the music and the alcohol and the adrenaline within your system muffling out every word spoken. Regardless, you still nod and trail behind your friends as you leave, not all too sure what just happened.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You lay in bed, eyes practically burning holes into the new contact in your phone. “宁宁<3” is what it said. 

So last night wasn’t just a dream. You really did just get a girl's number by doing nothing but spilling your secrets to a stranger. On top of all of that, your head was absolutely killing you, you swore you could feel your heartbeat within your brain. Still, that wasn’t important. Biting your lip, your fingers hover over the contact name. Should you message her? 

y/n [10:59]  — hey !! its y/n, the girl from the bar

y/n [10:59]  — thanks for keeping me company last night :)

ningning [11:06]  — i was wondering if u were gonna text me back

ningning [11:06] — and of course <3 jimin doesn’t know what she lost

y/n [11:08] — haha im flattered

y/n [11:08]  — but u barely know me??

ningning [11:11]  — that can change xx

Your eyes widen as you reread the text over and over again. Is she implying what you think she's implying? What if she's just being friendly? Can you even platonically make out with someone at the bar?

y/n [11:16] — are u asking me out on a date ning yizhuo ?

You wait. 

Oh god. What if she was just being friendly?

ningning [11:18]  — only if youll have me 

You feel yourself blush at her message, burying your face into your pillow as you squeal like a high school teenager in love. It was embarrassing in hindsight, but.. it felt nice to be wanted. 

y/n [11:19] —  of course

ningning [11:19] — perfect <3 

ningning [11:20] — dinner at my place tonight then? 

ningning [11:20] — If youre not too hungover.. 

ningning [11:20] — i got the best hangover cures ;)

you can't help but arch your eyebrow at the winky face she added at the end but brushed it off, more focused on the fact that your drunk hatred towards your ex landed you a date. 

You scramble to your feet and (metaphorically) kick down Xiaoting’s door, abruptly waking the girl from her nap as she screams out, “WO CAO!” She places a hand over her heart as she bolts up within her bed, immediately letting out a sigh of relief when she realizes it was just you. 

“Girl what the HELL is wrong with you?!” She hisses, laying back down and throwing the blanket over her head.

You, being the ever loving and best roommate ever, respond to this by jumping into bed with (on top of) the redhead and squeezing her as tight as you can while screaming “I HAVE A DATE!!!”

Xiaoting shoots back up, your arms still latched onto her torso as she looks down at you, eyes wide. “Wait, are you serious?”

You hear a low groan and a hand slapping your arm as you roll your eyes, slapping the arm back as the voice of Yujin grumbles out and shuffles deeper within the sheets.

Both you and Xiaoting look at one another and giggle before she quietly slips out of bed, quickly placing a kiss on Yujins head before grabbing your arm and leading you out of her room. Once outside, she firmly grasps your shoulders. 

“Okay, now tell me everything.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You nervously stand outside of Ningnings apartment, bag clutched in hand as you look back behind you. Xiaoting sat within her car on the side of the road, keeping an eye on you to make sure this girl wasn’t going to kidnap you or the other.

The two of you (and soon enough Yujin and Hikaru) had spent the day giving you pointers on how to go about the date. They had thrown an ungodly amount of clothes your way as well as telling you endless conversation starters and compliments to give another person. By the end of it all your head was overflowing with information that you were going to forget as soon as you head out the door, and all of your closet was sprawled on your bedroom floor and in the living room. Still, the girls seemed quite proud of their work.

All of you had consecutively agreed on an outfit that was nice, but not too nice. You wore a plaid skirt paired with a simple tank top and an off the shoulder cardigan.

Holding your breath, you ring the doorbell. You really hoped this wasn’t a mistake. When was the last time you were actually on a date with someone? You couldn't remember. After a few moments of silence, you hear shuffling followed by the door unlocking and Ningning poking her head out shyly. Her eyes light up at the sight of you before opening the door completely, revealing her outfit.

She wore an oversized plaid button up, unintentionally matching with your skirt alongside baggy jeans and some bunny slippers you thought were incredibly cute. Her hair was tied up in a messy but charming bun, held up by a hair stick with small gemstones dangling from the end.

This Ningning was completely different from the one you had met at the bar last night. Though, you suppose you were a different person now as well.

“You're here! Come in come in!” She grabs your hand and guides you inside. Flustered, you spare a quick glance behind you, and you can spot the silhouette of Xiaoting throwing a thumbs up from her car before Ningning closes the door behind you.

“You look gorgeous today, by the way,” Ningning compliments, her thumb rubbing over your fingers as she walks you through her apartment. The gesture makes your cheeks warm, and you find yourself easing into her touch like putty. It was a touch that was loving. Kind. Intentional. 

Her home was cozy, with white walls paired alongside warm lighting and paintings and other wall art lining the interior. There was an appetizing aroma that wafted through the air, and you had remembered that Ningning had offered to cook for you.

“What have you prepared for us tonight, chef Ningning?” You ask, squeezing her hand as she grins, “Well it's not much, I'm not a really good cook but I decided to make us some dumplings! A little basic, but it's the only dish I feel like I’ve actually perfected.”

“I hope this is the hangover cure you mentioned” you comment lightheartedly, and you sense a playful energy in the way she looks back at you.

“You'll find out soon enough.”

You once again find yourself quirking a brow at her vague answers, but she simply smiles at you innocently and you find yourself smiling back. It was hard to not be amused by her.

Ningning guides you to the kitchen, which was cleaned perfectly for your arrival. On the center of the table were multiple bamboo steamer baskets, as well as a large tea pot and a simple glass bottle with various native wildflowers as a centerpiece. 

The other girl pulls out a chair for you, and you teasing grin at the polite gesture, “how romantic, Ninging~”

She rolls her eyes and giggles before settling down herself, instantaneously pouring you a cup of tea as she gestures at the baskets, “go on, dig in. I’ll be personally offended if you don’t.”

Chuckling, you open up the baskets, releasing clouds of steam before revealing multiple handmade dumplings with various fillings and differing folding styles. Your eyes widen, and you simply comment, “wow,” before taking the first bite of the food.

To say that it tasted amazing was an understatement– you practically felt like you were thrown back to the motherland with a single bite, and it wasn’t long before you were filling your plate with more.

The two of you had spent the rest of the evening getting to know one another more. You had learned she was a computer science major and going onto her third year of uni, as well as the fact she was from Harbing whilst you shared that you were from Shanghai. 

“Big city girl, huh?” Ningning amusedly comments, sipping on her tea as you roll your eyes, “yeah… But I'm not rich or anything before you ask.”

The blonde feigns rejection as she snaps her fingers, “damn. I was gonna ask you to buy drinks next time we head to the bars, I think you owe me. ” She smiles at you, and it's warm.

You liked this. You liked how easy it was to talk to her. It was never this easy before.

Soon enough you had ended up on Ningning’s couch, browsing through movies aimlessly as the hefty meal threatened to send you into a food coma. The blonde lay comfortably in your arms underneath a blanket, her eyes occasionally fluttering shut as you continued to search for something to watch.

“Hmm, what about… Velocipastor?” The name completely throws you off guard, prompting you to click on it, skimming over the description as you feel the vibration of Ninging lazily humming beneath you. 

“Oh that movie is really good, trust me.”

“... Really? Are you sure, Ning?”

“Yeah yeah…” Her eyes were already shut as she spoke, nuzzling in closer to you as you chuckle, putting on the movie as you wrap your arms around her, pulling her in closer. 

Honestly, the movie seemed to be an excuse for the girl to be physically close to you– maybe get a nap in? You weren’t even sure if she was watching the movie at this point. Still, maybe it was for the best. Velocipastor was definitely not well funded within its production, that much could be seen. Plus, you couldn't complain about having a cute girl in your arms.

“Does your head still hurt?”

Ningning’s soft voice rings out, startling you. Honestly, you were getting pretty invested in the film, you had thought she already fell asleep.

“Mmm, a little. I don’t think your hangover cure worked.”

“Oh, the dumplings weren’t the cure.”

Your head cocks to the side as you tear your gaze away from the tv screen, looking down at the girl nestled on your chest as she looks back up at you. There was that all too familiar glint in her eyes again.

“Then what is?”

A mischievous grin curls on her lips before she leans in, connecting her lips with yours. Still a bit sluggish from the night before alongside a hefty meal, her kissing was a bit sloppy, but it was soft. Much softer than before.

You feel yourself almost immediately sigh into the kiss, and you would have found it embarrassing if she didnt guide her hand up your chest, to your neck, and into your hair, soon deepening the kiss. 

Not expecting things to escalate so soon, you couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper as your hands landed on her hips, nails digging into her sides desperately as she laughs against your lips, pulling back. 

“You’re really cute, y’know?” She purrs, using her hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face, and you can see the hint of pink spread across her lips as she smiles, drinking in the sight of you.

Before you even have a chance to respond, Ningning tackles your jawline, trailing kisses down your face and onto your neck. You try to respond, but when she starts to nip the side of your neck, the words you wanted to say somehow managed to melt into complete mush.

“Mmhmmhgh…” 

The sound that escapes your lips allows you the chance to actually feel embarrassed, and you slam a hand over your lips, looking away from Ninging. Your response elicits another laugh from the blonde, and you swear you could listen to the sound forever. 

Her symphony soon quiets though, and Ningning looks you straight in the eye, her gaze softening as she opens her mouth, struggling to find the right words to say.

“Look, I know we just met…” she trails off for a moment, almost a bit shy to continue, “but if you want to give me a chance and see where this goes, I promise I’ll treat you so well.” 

Her eyes are filled with genuine desire for you, and you couldn’t help but feel… Isolated? Targetted? For the first time you feel like you’re seen, and you don’t know what to do about it.

She presses on, “I’d really like to see you again, and I know you’re going through a lot right now but I want to be there with you every step of the way. I want to see where this takes us.”

“I want you, y/n.”

Your face heats up instantaneously, and you swear your eyes were threatening to bulge out of your skull right then and there. You look at her in silence as you struggle to find your words, and after a few seconds you finally croak out,

“I… I want to see where this takes us too, Ningning.”

Her eyes brighten at your response, and she beams, pulling you into a tight hug on the couch before interlocking her lips with yours once again. You giggle into the kiss, and throw the blanket over the two of you as the movie on the tv buzzed on. For the first time, you found someone warm enough for you.

[honeybeefae]

Strawberry Wine (Tamlin x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY ELEVEN: APHRODISIACS

Summary// Calanmai was something you knew about but never took part in, preferring to stay on the sidelines or at home. It would be your luck that tonight, right at the Great Rite began, you would get picked right as you tried to sneak away. Before you can refuse, a sweet-tasting wine is given to you that makes your mind fuzzy, thighs clench, and Tamlin look better than ever. 

(I said I was picking back up on Kinktober and in celebration of Earth Day, why not celebrate with the High Lord of Spring? This is my first time writing for Tamlin, and I’m lowkey excited! I hope you all like it <3)

WARNINGS: Smut, 18+. Aphrodisiac Usage (so Dubcon), Biting, Slight Breeding Kink, 

You have attended almost every Calanmai since reaching your maidenhood but always stayed in the dark. Watching your friends and others drink and be merry, giving back to the land and magic was fun, but you were the notorious wallflower. 

Of course, you fantasized just as much as the other maidens about getting picked to help Tamlin in the Great Rite. It was always an honor to be picked, but after everything that happened over the last few years, this Rite was important. It would be the ultimate test of whether Tamlin could remain High Lord. If he could produce enough magic to heal the land…and hopefully himself. 

Working as one of the servants in his house, you saw firsthand how Feyre and Hybern had made him a shell of his former self. Whispers of his weakening power were heard in every corner of the house. You hadn’t been under him when everything had happened, only the aftermath, but it hurt you to see someone so low. 

Even if it were his own choices that led him to that place.

As the drums sound out, signaling the beginning of the Rite, you awake from your thoughts and begin to weave through the crowd. You did dream about being picked, but given the circumstances now, you pity the girl who was chosen. She was as much as responsible as Tamlin in the ritual.

Fire dances along the cave walls as you murmur apologies, trying to squeeze past the crowd that only seems to get louder and louder. A cool breeze whisps past you, almost as if it were trying to whisper something, but before you can focus on it, you feel a rough, calloused hand grasp your wrist. 

“You.” 

Time freezes along with your body as you recognize the rough, low voice. All eyes are on you, taking in every detail of your body as they try to decipher what made you stand out before they all come to their senses and cheer.

Tamlin doesn’t wait for your excuses that were already building on your tongue, turning back to stalk further into the cave that you had only seen in the darkest corners of your mind. You swallow, wondering if you could turn to dash, but before you can, several hands start to push you forward. 

Your stomach lurches, and your vision blurs as you stand before several friends, family, and fellow court members. One of them, an elder, smiles warmly at you and holds up a single gold goblet. She whispers something akin to a prayer, though it is so loud you can barely hear her, before she brings the cup to your lips. 

“Wait, please,” You raise your hand to push it away, staring at her pleadingly. “I’m not the right one. I was leaving. I’m the wrong girl.”

“Fate is never wrong, young maiden.” She hums, her fingers brushing away your stray hairs. “Drink. You will feel better.”

And despite every alarm bell going off in your head, you obediently open your mouth. It was as if she put a spell on you. The drink, a sweet wine that tastes faintly of strawberries, goes down your throat easily. Your tastebuds seem to explode at the richness of the alcohol, craving more as you grab the goblet yourself and tip it all the way back. 

There were chuckles behind you as you frown into the empty cup, looking back up to the woman only to realize she looks slightly fuzzy. In fact, now that you think about it, everything seems blurry. 

A warmth blossoms in your belly that makes you sigh, your eyelashes fluttering as the heat goes further down. You’re distantly aware that you are in public and should definitely not be rubbing your thighs together like you’re doing, but the shame is nowhere to be found. In fact, the only thing you can feel is desire. 

“What’s…what’s happening to me?” You mumble, mouth going dry as the woman takes your hand and guides you to where Tamlin had gone.

“It’s an aphrodisiac, my dear. Something to lower your inhibitions and anxiety. It will allow more magic to flow through you and into the Earth.” She explains. You know it makes sense. A lot of people are held back by their own fears and cannot access their full potential. 

The light dims the further you go until you feel her let go of your hand. You want to protest, to turn and run, but something otherworldly seems to push you forward until you see a small campfire flickering. The people you heard cheering and singing earlier had fallen silent, the air itself stilling as you peek around the corner to see the man waiting for you. 

However, in the state he was in, you would describe him as more savage than man. His clothes were all but shredded, symbols painted onto his skin that seemed to glow as his hair fell out of its braids. You couldn’t see his face but knew his pupils were dilated, his canines probably sharper and longer. 

“I can smell you,” Tamlin growls, turning his body so that his intense gaze meets your eyes. “I picked you out immediately.”

“I can smell you too…” You whisper, the wine heightening most of your senses as the scent of cedar, rain, and faint honeysuckles fills your nose. It makes your mouth water. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to do this. She gave me-”

Suddenly Tamlin was in front of you, your eyes immediately falling to his hard cock before he grasps your chin and pulls it up so that he could look into your eyes. There is a wide range of emotions, but the most dominant one is anger. 

Anger?

“What did they give you?” His jaw clenches as he turns your face from side to side, taking in your glassy eyes and disheveled appearance. “They gave you the wine, didn’t they?”

“Why are you angry?” You skip over his question, raising your fingers to smooth over the frown lines on his forehead. 

“Forgive me for not being thrilled that you are currently under drugs in order to sleep with me.” He snaps, pulling away from your touch. “I would never take advantage of you like this. And for them to think that you needed this…that no one would…”

You might be out of it, but you could feel the pain in his words. He didn’t know about the wine. His mind was spiraling, not only for your safety but also for the fact that his court members thought no one would want him anymore. That this was something they would have to force someone to do. 

It confirmed all the worst things he thought of himself and his court. 

But you weren’t forced here, not truly. Of course, you were hesitant at the beginning because you had never done something like this before, but now that you were here…you were sure that even without the aphrodisiacs, you would still feel this yearning. 

This was sudden and not how you expected the night to go, but you weren’t upset. In fact, it was something you had been dreaming about. You hated seeing Tamlin holed away, to see how broken he was. You just wanted to heal him. 

“Tamlin…” You say softly, taking the same approach one would do for an injured predator.  “Tamlin, look at me.” 

He does, and it damn near breaks you. All the pain, sorrow, anger, disappointment, grief, it was drowning him. 

“This may not make sense because my mouth feels numb,” You smile, cracking a joke. “But first of all, please understand no one is forcing me here. I know I could leave any time, I know I could have refused the wine, I know what this means, and I chose it.”

“But-” He starts to protest, but you hold up your hand and smush your finger against his lips. 

“Shhh, listen to me,” You soothe. “I cannot imagine what is inside your brain right now. The pressure, the memories, it sounds like hell. Just…let’s just forget about it tonight. Let this be the distraction you need, the healing this land needs, and tomorrow, we can worry about the rest.”

Tamlin gazes down at you, green eyes holding you still as he cups your face with shaky hands. The wind picks up around you, tickling your thighs and arms, before it pushes you forward and up to meet his plush lips.

Somewhere, distantly, you swear you hear fireworks going off as you immediately return the kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck, pressing your body impossibly closer as his fingers thread through your hair. His warmth only adds to yours, making you feel like an inferno as you swipe your tongue along his bottom lip teasingly.

You meant what you said about tonight being a distraction. You are going to take full advantage of sleeping with the High Lord. 

His chest rumbles with a growl that resonates to your core, pulling away for a brief moment to look you over before he claims your mouth once more. This time, it is much more passionate. Teeth clash, his once gentle fingers in your hair become a harsh grasp as he pulls your head to one side to expose your neck and shoulders. 

“Cauldron save me,” He whispers into your skin, peppering open-mouth kisses to the column of your throat. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve craved this.”

“Likewise-ah!” You yelp as he bites down on your shoulder, just hard enough to make you wince. This doesn’t deter him. Instead, it spurs him on as he lifts you up effortlessly and pushes you against the cold cave wall. 

“Look at you, petal,” Tamlin smirks as he cups your face again, running his thumb across your flush cheeks. “And we’ve barely even begun.”

“Please,” Your voice is high and needy as you feel his cock rut up against you, your panties already soaked through. “Please, I need more.”

He clicks his tongue and slips one of his hands between your bodies, his eyes screwing shut as he feels just how wet you are. You moan loudly when he shoves your underwear to the side and teases your cunt, brushing over your clit before shallowly dipping two fingers inside.

“Tamlin!” You groan, resting your head against the wall as he chuckles. 

“Trust me, I want to bury myself as deep as I can inside this delicious pussy,” He moans, pushing his fingers in deeper to stretch you out. “But I have to make sure I won’t hurt you. I want you to take all of me, love. Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Hearing him use such crass language only makes your whines increase as he curls his fingers, playing with your body like he knows every cord. You pant as his pace increases, feeling his precum leak onto your thigh as you beg and plead for him to just fuck you. 

It’s only after what feels like an eternity that he pulls out his fingers and nudges the head of his cock against your entrance. You want to close your eyes, to make sure you feel every sensation, but Tamlin maintains eye contact as he presses his forehead against yours. 

“I want to watch your face as you swallow my dick, petal. I want to watch those beautiful eyes tear up from the stretch and pleasure, to feel those little shakes as you take more and more.” He says lowly, kissing you one more time before he starts to thrust into you. 

You couldn’t hold the moan in even if an arrow was notched against your head. Your cries bounce off the walls as he sinks deeper and deeper into you, his breaths coming out in pants as he finally bottomed out. His hands fall to your hips, digging into them with his emerging claws as he looks up at you. 

The pupils were so round that you could barely see the green in his eyes, his teeth clenching as he pulls out slowly and thrust back up. The sensation pulls out a string of curses, and that is all the encouragement he needs to start fucking you. 

He isn’t gentle, not caring that your back was scraping painfully against the cave wall or that his claws were almost piercing your flesh. Tamlin seems to be more beast than man, and you were no better, the wine enhancing everything as you swear you can feel him pulse inside you. 

“Yes, yes, fuck right there!” You cry out, arching your back to try and get closer to him. 

“That’s it, love, scream for me.” He growls as everything around him sharpens. You could feel something tingle in the back of your mind, like a gentle kiss, but he hits your spot, making your mind go blank. 

And you do. You are certain they could hear you all the way in the night court as you feel your cunt tighten around him. Your orgasm had snuck up on you, but now that you were on the edge, you knew it was going to drown you. 

Urgency begins to grow between you as he thrusts faster and harder. It was stealing the breath from your lungs as you chant his name, wrapping your arm around his neck and pulling him into your sweaty chest. Tamlin waste no time in kissing and sucking on your breasts, tugging on your nipples as his own balls start to throb. 

“Cum in me, please, Tam,” You whimper, grinding down so that your clit is rubbing against his abs. “Fill me up with your seed, please!” 

Before you can even blink, you feel him snap his hips up so sharp that it sends you hurdling over the edge. The tides of pleasure fill your lungs and drag you into darkness as your eyes screw shut, your orgasm so powerful you swear you can feel the ground shake. 

And when Tamlin follows right behind you, his teeth connecting to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you actually do feel it shake. It sends the two of you falling down, but he is quick to catch you, cradling your head while continuing to fuck you full of his cum. 

He pulls away long enough to roar before he kisses you fiercely, your own blood mingling with his saliva as you slowly start to come down. Tamlin rolls to the side and brings you with him, laying you across his chest while remaining inside you. 

The sound of music is the first thing to stir you to look around, realizing the wine is starting to wear off as your gaze falls back to the High Lord. He looks positively sinful, his chest red and sweaty from exertion while his lips hold a playful smile. 

“It’s nice to see that again.” You smile, suddenly bashful now that the liquid courage is gone. 

“I have a feeling you’ll see a lot more of it in the future.” He responds, brushing away the strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Are you okay?”

You look yourself over, noting the bruises and scrapes, but you know they will heal soon. Mentally, you felt…well, those feelings were better saved for another day. Instead, you nod and rest your head on his chest, not wanting to spoil the moment. 

He kisses your head, and when you nuzzle down further, your sensitive sex gives a small clench, and his chest rumbles with a warning. 

“What? Are you already ready for round two?” You tease, lifting your chin to look at him. 

Tamlin smirks again and pokes his tongue against his cheek, giving a weak thrust inside you so that you can feel him harden. 

“You’re in for a long night, petal.” 

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

random messages from the tarot

so, this is a short pac reading with no theme, anything essencial will show up on this readings. feel free to pick more than one pile <3

pile 1 pile 2

pile 3 pile 4

images from pinterest and dividers by @fairytopea

꒰ঌ ✦ scroll down for the results ໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ

-ˋˏ ༻ ❁ Masterpost and Tarot Menu ❁༺ ˎˊ-

*˚‧͙✧ PILE ONE ✧‧͙⁺*

During this very moment of your life, you need to stop expecting good fortune and luck to be on your side when you are thinking about taking any kind of new direction. It’s understandable that hope might be a great motivator for you, but you are limiting yourself if you’re ignoring how important are your own actions and your virtues, things that go well in your life, are not because of good luck, they go well because you did well. If you focus on developing your skills and your confidence, you will achieve a lot and actually enjoy those achievements without any sort of impostor syndrome.  Please understand that anything good that happens to you, in your case, is a reflection of what you do on your own in order to keep the abundance and the positive energy coming your way.

*˚‧͙✧ PILE TWO ✧‧͙⁺*

I get this feeling you are watching yourself detach from your own emotions and you are not sure what to do about it. When it comes to feelings of anxiety or sadness, it’s common to want to detach, or ignore them, but at some point this can happen sort of by accident, you know you’re feeling bad, but you don’t quite feel it sometimes. What I can say about this is that: try to deal with this by being deeply conscious on how and why these feelings are being ignored, don’t focus too much on what is causing them right now, but instead focus on why you are not allowing yourself to experience something completely human: feelings. Try to understand them as ways in which your mind and body communicates the needs you’re unconsciously ignoring. And please ask for help if you need to.

*˚‧͙✧ PILE THREE ✧‧͙⁺*

It’s time to stop being resentful with your past self, and /or the people who hurt you.  You’re carrying way too much baggage that is affecting your decision making skills, usually taking you to places and people that are far too similar to the situations that got you the baggage in your first place. This is a great moment to begin healing journeys aimed to allow yourself to have a deeper comprehension on your past, by taking a more objective look on it and being more understanding with your old self, more patient and comprehensive. For you, it’s necessary to see what thought are behavioural patterns are keeping you away from moving on from the past.

*˚‧͙✧ PILE FOUR ✧‧͙⁺*

You’re going to experience a lot of creative energy and fast changes soon. It’s key that you can embrace the fun yet chaotic but overall positive experiences that’ll come your way. These are not only meant to give you new perspectives and new opportunities regarding the material aspects of your life, but they’re also a manifestation of your own energy changing and attracting both positive and negative challenges. You will be put in situations where your passions will become a great source of guidance and hope, while becoming more and more present in your life. Expect new people wanting to approach you during a time of change and evolution like this, some come to help, some to test you, some will stay and others not.

hi, i'm gigi :)

i hope you enjoyed this readings and hopefully found something useful. check my masterpost if you want to know more about this blog or if you want to keep reading some more PACs. also, my bookings for personal readings are open!! so don't hesitate to take a quick look at my tarot menu if you're interested in that.

as usual, im thankful for all the good vibes on here, i hope everyone can get something out of this blog!! i'm really struggling to get consistent with posting since i prioritize my job as a tarot reader on an app and doing personal readings from here (and omg thanks to everyone who trusts me with that and thanks to everyone who books).

so yeah, thats pretty much it.

much love, gigi <3

[aseaofyoongi]

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 🎧

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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*

[capsi-cuminme]

Closer, Closest

summary: in which you've just joined the x-men, but land up in a situation where you're forced to get very close with logan.

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

word count: 4.4k

warnings: mild swearing, suggestiveness, smooching omg

author's note: This is my first ever logan fic, and my first overall full-length fic after a loooong time, so it'll probably be a bit botchy, but I hope y'all enjoy the self-indulgent logan content.

•──✦──•

Logan was not in the mood for surprises, or uncomfortable change. He’d had enough of very major, very uncomfortable changes in the past month or so - changing history wasn’t easy. So imagine his distaste when he got to the mansion after a seemingly easy mission the kids somehow managed to mess up, and instead of Jean, there was someone else that’s supposed to treat him - you.

A new recruit, he guessed. Brows furrowed, face covered with a cheap surgical mask, but eyes full of wonder, you were doing this and that to Logan’s few, easily-healable injuries, attempting to fix them. Your fingers were nimble, and shockingly not ticklish at all. He wondered if you knew you didn’t need to do half of what you were doing, considering the speeds at which Logan’s body tended to heal itself. Had Charles not told you? Well, whatever. He was too occupied with his cigar to want to speak anyways, so he waited. Waited and waited and kept on waiting for what seemed like forever but you weren’t letting up.

“Bub, are you creating new injuries to treat? I know sure as hell that it doesn’t take that long to look at any wounds on my body,” he grumbled, sparing you a glance as you continued to do whatever the hell you were doing, paying no mind to him or his questions. Your eyes were focused as they flitted around, jumping from one spot on his arm to another on his wrist to a third on his neck. It caught him off-guard, a tiny bit, the blatant indifference you displayed - as if he wasn’t an adult whose body you were tampering with, but a child who had to be dealt with. He didn’t really like it.  Nonetheless, he decided not to do anything. It was better to pass time on the bed and smoke peacefully rather than have to teach children History that he could barely remember.

Mind made up, he closed his eyes in relief, mentally applauding himself for successfully coming up with a reason to get out of class. When he opened them again, you were gone.

So was all the strength in his body.

. . . . .

“So, what did you think? Was healing him of any help to you?” asked Charles, smiling in the controlled, calm way he usually did.

You shook your head, “Not really, no, because I didn’t really heal him, you know?”

“Of course, you didn’t heal him; Logan’s body is capable enough to do that on its own means. What I mean to ask is, was he any different? Were you able to access his energy or were you unsuccessful?”

“Semi-successful would be the word, professor,” you grimaced. Taking the cup of tea he offered, you continued, “I was really not able to make any sort of progress when he was awake, so when he rested himself, I decided to drain him out comple -”

You were interrupted by the sudden bang of a door opening. As you turned around, you saw Logan standing in the doorway in all his muscled glory. God, it’d been so difficult to focus on extracting his energy and not ogle all the time he was there - being able to treat the Wolverine, being able to touch him, it was no less than a dream. Honestly speaking, half the reason you weren’t able to carry out energy identification and extraction easily was because of how distracted you were, how nervous. His muscles felt like God herself had carved them out of her best and favorite materials, while the intensity of his gaze seemed like fire itself burned inside them.

Your lust-filled train of thought was broken by Charles’s voice as he addressed the man you were dreaming about. As you turned to him, you realized that Logan was glaring at you, excellently conveying his lack of desire to be dreamt about. “Hello, Logan. How are you?”

“Who the hell is this, Charles? Why was she downstairs instead of Jean, and why the fuck did I feel like a dead body after she left?”

Oh.

Dream shattered.

You stood up hesitantly, nibbling on the inside of your right cheek, glancing at Charles for help. He didn’t return your look, simply straightening himself a little bit and then saying, “Logan, this is Vitality. She’s a new recruit, and will be helping around the mansion for some time before she’s ready to go on missions.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, lips pulled back in a sneer as he observed you. You felt practically naked under his gaze, and not in the good way; it was the kind of naked where there’s goosebumps on your skin right as you’re about to step into a shower of extremely cold water in a comparably cold temperature.

“Whatever she might be here for and whoever she might be, I couldn’t give less of a damn. I just want one answer – why did I feel so… so -” “So drained out?” you sheepishly suggested, noting his struggle to find the correct words. He didn’t look like he appreciated it, but nodded to the affirmative anyways. “Well, that’s because, as my name suggests, I deal with energy – any and all forms of energy, except what is found in living beings.”

“So what were you doing to me?”

You found yourself cringing at his words. “I wasn’t doing anything to you, Mr Logan, sir, I was experimenting with your energy. Remember how I said I deal with all energy except that of living beings? That’s because I can’t control my abilities well enough to not hurt living being if I tamper with their energy.” You stopped. You didn’t know how to continue explaining without possibly offending him.

“So, Logan,” picked up Charles, “since you’re someone who is beyond the risk of death, I asked her to try controlling your energy. It was supposed to be easier, more… convenient.”

Logan’s face had relaxed a bit, but he still looked confused and glanced at you for further explanation.

“Yeah well, in short, you don’t die and recover quickly and also have a lot of energy so you were the ideal candidate for me to practice on, but unfortunately I failed and ended up draining out all your physical energy for a short period of time,” you finished with a sorry expression your face, silently apologising.

“Why didn’t you tell me, professor?”

“Simply because you’d have spent more time asking where Jean is than actually helping in the experiment. Now,” he said, with an air of finality and dismissal, “if you’ll please leave, so that we can continue our conversation.”

You silently thanked the professor, moving to sit back down. Yeah, you had, like, a bit of a celebrity crush on him or whatever. So what? He was still intimidating and made you want to run out of the room (not before staring at him a little more). As you turned back to the professor, you were grateful the interaction with the legendary mutant was over, but you were also curious about something. Something that’d been mentioned throughout the conversation two to three times, and you felt like you’d already had enough of hearing.

Who the hell was - “Jean. Where is she though, professor? Haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

You swallowed, taken aback a little bit. Someone seemed to care about this Jean a lot. No one had told you the Wolverine had his heart set on some woman whose face you don’t even know.

Well, whatever.

“Jean’s on a mission with Scott. Now if you’ll excuse us, Logan?”

The aforementioned man grumbled something, then left after a quick, “Right, sorry.”

“I think we can resume our conversation now, no?” asked Charles, sipping a cup of tea, looking at you with a smile. Right as you started to nod, he said, “And oh, don’t worry – you’ll meet soon enough.”

Oh God, he can read thoughts. How stupid can you be?

Your embarrassment was only damped down by the mischievous twinkle in Charles’s eye and his swiftness to steer the topic of the conversation back to what it was.

. . . . .

It had been a month since you were here. A month filled with practicing extraction and infusion of energy relentlessly, all while trying to make at least a few bare-minimum acquaintances with your colleagues and the children you’re supposed to teach.

In some fields, you’d been making progress. Under Charles’s skilled eye, your abilities were sharpening quickly. Storm’s powers were similar to yours, so she would sometimes come and keep you company, sparring, chatting, lingering around. She was fun to be with – a good leader, but an even better friend. She was just the person you needed at this infantile stage of your journey to become an X-man. (X-woman? Whatever.) You’d even started teaching some of the younger kids, and they all seemed to be liking you, more or less.

There was also the not-great part.

Namely, Jean and Logan.

See, you knew you hadn’t started off on the best foot with Logan, seeing how you’d non-consensually (accidentally) drained him of his body’s physical energy for like ten or fifteen minutes, and so obviously it’d take some time for him to grow comfortable around you. Fair enough.

What wasn’t fair, on the other hand, was the fact that Logan was either in his room, or on missions, or teaching, or with Jean. Not-single, in-a-relationship-with-Scott, Jean. (Yes, you had noticed they were dating thank you very much.)

The person whose energy you were physically unable to be around, that Jean.

It seemed a cruel trick by fate.

You’d had a crush on him since forever, ever since you’d first seen him protecting kids on the news, and it wasn’t as if you wanted to fuck him or anything, no! (Although you wouldn’t be opposed to that.) But would it be wrong to want to be at least on talking terms with him? Apparently, yes. So you decided to just suck it up and carry on with your work. That’s what you were here for, that’s what you’d do; to hell with anyone who was a distraction to you.

. . . . .

Holy shit, working with these people was so difficult. It wasn’t the constant fights waiting to happen or powers waiting to erupt. It wasn’t even the fact that all this newfound energy around you, all the damn time, unsettled you heavily. No, you could get used to that.

It was their utter refusal to cooperate that was posing to be a bit of an issue.

You had asked Charles to lend you, for lack of better terms, a few mutants different to each other in terms of their abilities, so that you could practice.

So you had in front of you, the entire team – how were you supposed to not die of nervousness?

“Alright then, shall we begin? Any of you can step up first, whoever’s more comfortable,” Charles remarked quietly, observing from the sidelines the slight tremor in your arms and legs, coupled with the apprehension visible on the team’s faces. It’s a given, of course, the existence of the overall tone of nervousness. The team doesn’t know you too well, hasn’t known you for long, not even Storm.

You nod in response to Charles, signalling that you’re ready. For a beat or two, no one comes up. You stare at them, waiting; the moment you think Storm might step up, Logan strides forward and seats himself on the chair in front of you. You blink at him a couple times, not really expecting him to come up and offer himself for – for lack of a better word - experimentation so calmly when only a while ago he’d had a bad experience regarding the same thing?

Oh, well. It was a good thing, all things considered. You got someone to practice on, and it just so happened to be the person you’ve had the meanest fattest crush on forever. Works out perfectly.

So, on Charles’s cue and under the watchful eyes of all the X-men, “Logan, please close your eyes for a little bit.” As soon as he did, you started. You weren’t really trying to extract or infuse copious amounts of energy, just weeding out the bits of excessive power, that’s all.

But even though it seemed a small task, it had rendered you on your knees in only a few minutes, because a) energy extraction in living, sentient beings was not easy, b) it had only been your first or second time trying it and you were being extra careful, and c) Jean’s energy, constantly at odds with her own self, was distracting you more than you’d like. And you were concentrating, really, you were, but Kitty, apparently, was not, as she fell through the roof and on to the ground a couple of feet away from you. Her fall distracted all your momentarily built focus onto her instead, as you lost the thread of energy you had been constantly pulling out. The thread turned into a pool of energy before you realised.

You looked up into Logan’s eyes – yours were probably more fearful than his, but you still tried to give him some sort of reassurance. You could observe how quickly you were sucking up his energy; his skin was paling in an unnatural way, eyes drooping, but you didn’t know what to do. You’d learnt how to extract, infuse, and return the energy back. You couldn’t just skip the middle step, you didn’t know how. As you were scrambling to figure out a solution, a voice rang out in your head.

“Calm down. Think. The solution is what comes naturally.”

Naturally? What comes naturally?

Oh, right – your own energy. You could just infuse his energy with the tiniest bit of yours, and it’d work (most probably), so that’s what you did. You kept infusing and returning and repeating, but the amount of energy that had pooled out was so much that you were practically a cadaver by the time you were done sending it back.

“Are you okay?” you questioned softly, looking into the eyes of the man seated before you. You couldn’t muster your voice to be louder, so you hoped that your whispers and desperation were enough to convey to Logan what you were asking.

Tilting his head just a bit, he nodded, looking increasingly renewed and full of energy. You breathed a sigh of relief, finally stopping the influx of energy into his body and standing up.

The task had taken an unprecedented toll on you, what with the unexpected amount of work. So of course, the blood seeping out of your nose and ears wasn’t a surprise, nor was you fainting, unceremoniously falling to the ground right as a pair of arms gripped you.

. . . . .

When you woke up, you could make out several things right off the bat, without even fully coming to your senses - there were bunched up sheets digging into your back as your throat felt parched and scratchy. Needles pricked into your hands, slowly supplying glucose into your system, drip-by-drip. The air conditioning was making an unruly amount of noise. In the corner of the room, Logan sat on a stool, watching you with keen but tired eyes. 

“You finally up, Bub?”

It took you a second to register he was speaking to you. The movement of his lips seemed a bit unfamiliar. “Uh, y-yes. I’m up now. Awake.” 

“You feel fine now? Because you definitely don’t look the part,” he asked-or-said with the slightest smirk. At your consequent nod, he continued. “You looked the spitting image of a dead body when you fainted, ya’know? Had all of us scared, me especially, considering your decision to give me your energy or whatever.”

You tilt your head, confused. How did he know? “Did the professor tell you?” 

“Damn right he did,” he drawled, getting up from the stool and walking to your bed. 

You wished the slight increase in heart rate would go unnoticed. Just because you weren’t fully able to register your surroundings and connect the dots of what might’ve happened when you fainted, didn’t mean that you were also unable to register the veins in his arms as he folded them over his chest. God, that damn wifebeater of his - 

“Hey, you alright?” As your eyes lifted up from his chest and arms to his face, you realised he looked sort of concerned. For you. 

“Uh-huh. I’m good.” He nodded to himself, “Alright then. I’ll go tell the professor that you’ve woken up. You take some rest, okay? Don’t move from here.” With a quick dip of his chin, he turned, walking to the exit. Right as he was about to reach, you called out for him. 

“Hey, Logan? Thanks for being here and keeping an eye on me.”

“Wasn’t even here that long, but don’t mention it.” You were sure you saw the ghost of a smile on his face before he left. 

You were also certain that the sudden increase in heart rate did not go unnoticed by him, heightened senses and all. You hid your face in your palms, screaming silently. 

. . . . . 

After that day, things with Logan improved, however slight the improvement may have been. You’d gotten into a habit of greeting each other if you crossed each other in the halls and corridors, and if, by chance, both of you ended up at the breakfast table together then you’d have breakfast together too. 

Did you still absolutely lose your mind over him whenever you saw him walking around wearing literally whatever? Yes. But there was also a sense of newfound respect you developed for him as you watched him work and train students. You and he often had to substitute classes, so you’d understood his manner of work and training. As rough around the edges as he seemed, he was still a very soft-hearted person, never going overboard on any of the children and apologizing immediately if he thought he did. 

You were learning loads while working with him, and had to thank Professor X for that. So imagine your surprise when Charles called you into his office one day, and said “Congratulations, Vitality. You’re ready for your first mission, on which Logan will be accompanying you. He and Storm already know what is to be done, they’ll brief you. Now if you don’t mind, I have a class to take.” And with those words and a tiny smile, Charles sent you out of his office to embark on your first mission. 

Your first mission, with Logan. 

Oh God. You could absolutely scream. 

Was this some kind of joke? How the fuck were you supposed to carry out such a nerve-wracking task with the most gorgeous man on the planet? Yeah you’d grown sort of comfortable around him, but not if you two were supposed to go to some remote place alone on the jet. 

“Vitality?” 

You turned as Storm called you, Logan lazily walking right behind her. “Yes, what is it?”

“Did Charles inform you of the mission?” “Yes he did, but I don’t really know the details.” 

“It’s alright,” she assured, “just get ready to board the plane, Logan will explain everything to you on the way.”

. . . . .

The mission was simple. No fighting, just stealing. You had to go to some abandoned factory and take five vials of green-colored serum out of lots of multi-colored vials of serum. You’d asked what the serum was for, but Logan didn’t seem to know the answer himself, so you decided to drop it. 

As you sat in your seat, belted in and anxious, you watched Logan. He was sitting beside you, curiously looking at the jet’s controls the same way a baby regards new toys. It was kind of cute. And also very distracting, because Logan looked very good in his uniform; you hadn’t ever seen him wear it before this, so seeing him in it was doing things to you. 

“Have I got something on my face?”

You flinched, surprised at being called out. Refocusing your gaze, you were met with Logan looking at you with a crooked half-smile. “You were staring pretty hard there. Do I look that good in the uniform?” 

You resisted the urge to maniacally nod your head and instead settled for a meek apology. “S-sorry,” you squeaked out, more breathlessly than you’d like. 

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. Just didn’t think you’d be into old men like me, is all,” he remarked gruffly.

“Old?”

“Yes bub, old. ‘Ve been around for a good couple of centuries.”

Your eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. Sure, he aged slowly, but 200 years? You never knew. Before you could continue the conversation, the jet landed in the middle of the clearing. 

Both of you silently made your way inside the factory, no words exchanged, just vigilant gazes keeping check of everything around you. But even though there was no threat - nothing tangible, at least - you felt on edge. You were sensing a mixture of otherworldly and downright disturbing energies from various places within the factory, so when you finally reached the room with the vials, you couldn’t have been more thankful. 

With a silent look of understanding, Logan went in and retrieved the box containing the vials you needed. Mission complete. 

But as you guys were walking out, you bumped into one of the racks and another vial - deep purple - fell and broke right onto your shoulder. Logan turned to you with alarmed eyes. “What the hell? You’re not hurt, are you? Does it burn or something?” You quelled his worries and insisted to keep moving. After all, it didn’t burn your skin, nor did it harm you in any physically visible way, and it was an obvious assumption that the leak of energy from your body could be addressed in the jet. 

Unfortunately, you were incorrect. Despite going to the jet even faster than you guys had made it out, significant amounts of energy had started seeping out of you. 

Gasping, you said, “The serum probably had something to do with capability retention, that- that’s why I’m not able to maintain control.” You plonked down onto the jet’s floor, uncaring of the way the machinery around you rattled. 

Logan hurried to you, cradling your head and making you look him in the eyes. “What d’ya need, bub, huh? Tell me, tell me.” “Energy.”

He frowned deeply, confused. “Energy? Yours?”

Your eyes had begun rolling to the back of your head; you were about to pass out. Shaking your head aggressively, you clarified, “No, no, just- any energy works.”

Logan couldn’t understand. How was he supposed to give you energy, when yours was slipping away so fast? His lack of comprehension was annoying you. You whined, pulling him closer, hugging him completely. 

Skin-to-skin contact, the best way to get energy. 

As you basically situated yourself in his lap and hugged him like a koala in an attempt to gain back some kind of energy, your half-coherent brain could not register the rigidity of Logan’s body for the first couple of seconds, instead misinterpreting it as refusal to help. 

“Logan, please, I need you,” you borderline sobbed, shifting in his lap to make yourself comfortable, nuzzling yourself in your neck. 

“W-wait a second,” Logan said shortly, trying to comprehend what was happening. He could see that the energy leaks were decreasing, but God. This was uncomfortable in ways that weren’t exactly bad; it plagued him with guilt.

Oblivious to the workings of his mind and delirious due to the serum, you grabbed onto his arms, wrapping them around your waist, trying to get even closer. Tsk-ing, “Why can’t I get close enough?”

“Darlin’,” Logan mumbled, voice a couple of octaves lower and blood rushing south, “calm down. ‘M right here, you’ll be j’s fine, promise.” He rubbed soothing circles into your back, attempting to placate your restlessness. 

You lifted your face from the scruffiness of his neck, pouting as you looked up into his eyes. “Please Logan, this isn’t enough.” And God, he could not resist that face and that expression and that goddamned voice of yours, dripping with sticky-sweet honey and whining. So like any sane man, he did the only thing he could to get you both closer.

He grabbed a hold of your jaw semi-gently, making you look up at him. Once your eyes were finally focused enough, he leaned up to press his lips into yours. The kiss wasn’t exactly supposed to be chaste, but with the speed you opened your mouth and demanded entry into his with your tongue caught him just a tiny bit off-guard. 

He pulled back, watching you gasp for air. “This close enough for you?”

You shook your head, shifting yourself further and attaching your mouth to his, determined to get the closest you could. 

. . . . . 

As you once again regained your senses on the infirmary bed, you could make out several things right off the bat - there were bunched up sheets digging into your back as your throat felt parched and scratchy. Needles pricked into your hands, slowly supplying glucose into your system, drip-by-drip. The air conditioning was still making an unruly amount of noise. 

And of course, in the corner of the room, Logan sat on a stool, watching you with keen eyes. “You alright there, darlin’?”

You gulped, your throat feeling like the Sahara desert was in there. You’d damn well have spontaneously combusted hearing him call you ‘darling’, only you hadn’t forgotten what you’d done in the jet a couple days ago. 

“I-I’m good, Logan. Are you okay?”

He smiled. “Never been better.”

You exhaled shortly. “Good, tha-that’s great.”

“Sure is.”

You tried to breathe quietly. You felt you breathed too loud. Especially in a room with Logan. 

You were nervous. 

“You like Italian?”

Looking up, you were met with the sight of Logan, fiddling with his jeans pocket. Cute. “Sorry?”

“D’you like Italian, bub?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Great. Wanna try that new Italian place in the city? Scott wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Sure, yes. I’d love to,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek, trying to contain your smile. 

“Right. It’s a date then, love.”

[mossmotif]

more on gamer!shoko because she's on my mind...

she's got this tell that she doesn't become aware of until a few of her viewers start to pick up on it. when you walk into her room while she's streaming shoko almost always immediately mutes her mic just in case you aren't aware that she's live and also just out of general respect for your privacy. this means her viewers are left in silence for a little bit.

shoko's handcam, however, remains on during these small interventions, and it never fails to miss the way she fidgets anytime she's speaking to you. they trace along the fabric of her mouse pad, mess with the cords on her desk, or simply pick at the cuticles of her thumbs. they're these small, meaningless movements that shouldn't mean anything to strangers, or even to shoko herself. but they become hard to miss when the routine to them is so obvious.

a fan makes a silly post about it. the type with over the top slow motion to highlight her movement and a cheesy song to match the tone of the text overlayed on the compilation: "shoko getting nervous whenever her roommate walks in the room"

the amount of views it gets is ridiculous. the comments are ridiculous. and most of all, the feeling in the pit of shoko's chest is ridiculous.

her hands all of a sudden feel very disconnected from her body. she stares at them through the dark, holding them in front of her face and watching their outline grow fuzzy the more she strains her eyes. the glow of her discarded phone only seems to mock the honesty of their use, illuminating them briefly with each notification before fading back to nothing at all.

traitors, she thinks briefly. but then what was there to betray? none of these people knew what they were talking about.

the sound of dishware clattering breaks her attention. her hands fall back to her chest as she rolls out of bed and makes way to her door.

the sight of you in the kitchen this late doesn't alarm her. the air is laced with the smell of almond extract, the aroma tickles her nose as she watches your back and the way you drag your palms along your apron. an imprint of flour and egg is smudged along the battered fabric.

there's a video playing faintly in the background, something you're only half paying attention to. the noise comes from your phone, which has been propped up against a mixing bowl and unmistakably has its own set of stains in the shapes of your fingerprints along its corners and screen. the evidence is dyed a hard grey. an odd choice for frosting, most likely a mistake of yours while trying to find the perfect shade or hue. shoko can't help but be endeared by the mistake.

she stands there for some time. she forgets why she left her room all together, thoughts still so embarrassingly stuck to the tackiness of her online life and the speculations surrounding it. the room begins to break off in fragments.

what did she come in here to prove? her right hand wrings itself into a fist as she debates whether or not the smell in the air is actually oozing itself out of one of her distant dreams. the one where her lips cut the sweetness of yours.

there she would only be a mouth, nothing that could grab, prod, grope, or take. ideally, all of her would disappear and she could unlatch—without a palm smacking against her open mouth—and let herself melt into you like powder.

"shoko?" you're turned toward her with a piping bag in hand. "i didn't know you were awake."

she pushes through a shard, letting the movement of your arms pierce her as she attempts to focus her gaze on your eyes. you place the piping bag onto the kitchen table like it's a puzzle piece. there are old burn marks on your left forearm; they're small and hold different shapes.

"i was going to try and catch you off guard but i ended up spacing out," shoko lies.

one of the scars stretches in this curve she particularly enjoys tracing against anything she can get her hands on.

you move to grab something and the healed skin expands.

shoko tucks her hands into her pockets.

"rude," you reply. your voice has turned into something comically dry.

"i'm sorry?"

"right." you approach her with a spoon in hand. "taste this for me?"

a spoonful of raw batter pools itself into the form of the silver, yellowed and suspiciously lumpish looking.

shoko looks back at you, brows lifting themselves through an uncertainty she hopes you find amusing enough to not find too offensive.

"what is it?" she questions.

"just taste," you push.

the spoon edges itself towards her lips. you guide it toward her slowly, almost as if to not startle her, all the while, your figure has breached her space. you two stand nearly chest to chest as shoko hesitantly opens her mouth for you. the hand you have cupped beneath the spoon to prevent any messy spillage brushes the skin of her chin just enough for her to feel a spark at the end of her fingertips.

she swallows. you step back to watch all of her, eyeing anything tucked away.

"good?" you question her silence.

shoko looks away, tries to focus on the video still playing in the background, recognizes the faint familiarity of her own voice over the chime of a game she hasn't booted up in months, untucks her hand from her pocket to wipe at her lips, and feels you mold the simple self inflicted connection into something viscous.

"good," she answers.

[lotusmi]

healing your journey in 23 steps

⭒ Edward Art series in a nutshell! 💌 As you probably know, I summarized all 23 posts from Edward Art series! You can read all those posts fully here. This post is the collection of my fav quotes from every single part! » Edward teaches the law based in Neville books and lectures. His posts made my journey lighter and more simple, so I hope you can feel lighter reading it too! I really recommend you to read it :) If those quotes don't align with your personal beliefs, just ignore it ♡

💬 may u have a lovely read... ♡

1: No one or nothing to change but Self

Remove having to get things. Remove stress. Simply imagine what you want with the feeling of actual freedom to do so.

fulfill it mentally (your desire). Remove rules. Remove consequences. Remove the outer-world when you imagine. Remove all ideas of what you "should do" or "have to do." Do what you want (within).

do not care about how it will happen or when, or even if it is possible.

★ Do not stress yourself trying to change the mirror, but focus on changing self. Go within and fulfill your desires in imagination.

2: Let go of control, and control Self

There is no objective reality.

"Never blame, only resolve." - Neville

let go to the HOW. let go of controlling your outer-world and control yourself. The world is reflecting self. And "Self" is everything you think you HAVE and ARE.

do anything you wish in your mind. You are so powerful in your mind that NOBODY can imprison you. It is entirely up to you, to be what you desire to be in your mind.

3: He who will not live by love must be subdued by fear

You can remove ALL your fears if you do what you want in your mind.

the goal is to NOT change each and every fearful thought. It is not to argue and contemplate on the fear.

NEVER BLAME YOURSELF FOR FEARFUL THOUGHTS. Never blame, only resolve them within. You have the power to resolve to what you want. Don't waste that power on blaming yourself.

you are ALWAYS GREATER than what you are creating in your mind.

We are NOT trying to manipulate reality or force some change upon this physical world. That will happen NATURALLY. Why? Because your world is REFLECTING SELF.

CHANGE SELF BY DOING AND HAVING WHAT YOU WANT IN YOUR MIND.

Do you not realize you only get what you want when you give it to yourself?

4: Inner self must be exalted

It comes down to who you think you are. Who you are identifying yourself with. In order to feel completely free, you must identify yourself with the one within you.

When Neville says "Leave the world just as it is and change self. No one to change but self," he means the self that is within, the only self there is. Why leave the world alone? Because it is only an expression of "SELF!" Why does he say to change that and that alone? Because "SELF MUST BE EXPRESSED," that is the Law. You don't have to doubt "is my imaginal act going to come to pass?" Who is doubting? "SELF!" Who is worrying? "SELF!" What gets expressed? "SELF!" YOU CAN ALWAYS TRUST THAT SELF WILL BE EXPRESSED!

Discard the outer-world and that includes your identification with this body. This is ALL an EXPRESSION OF THAT "SELF."

identify yourself from within and you will grant your every wish from within.

since you identify yourself with outer-world and outer-self instead of your True Self and inner-world where everything is possible, you remain stuck.

identify yourself, not with this world, but with the one within, the one who is truly desiring.

5: Imagining is FUN

Thoughts come FROM your FEELING.

thought HAS NO POWER OF ITS OWN. That means the thought HAS NO TRUTH IN ITSELF.

YOU DON'T HAVE TO WORRY IF YOU ARE HAVING THE "RIGHT" THOUGHTS OR IF YOU SAYING THE "RIGHT" THINGS IN YOUR MIND. NO MORE TRYING TO THINK PERFECTLY.

You create the feeling you want and from that thoughts come. That is a STATE [!!!]. Remove this idea that beliefs are hard to change and they are blockages in your subconscious.

bring yourself back to the Creator. Stop identifying yourself with the thoughts and understand they are coming FROM the FEELING.

FEEL what you have ALWAYS WANTED to feel, you will NATURALLY THINK-FROM that position. THAT IS A STATE. THAT IS LIVING IN THE END.

FREE YOURSELF IN YOUR MIND ENTIRELY. Stop caring if it will happen or what will happen, REALITY IS YOUR MIND. IT REFLECTS "SELF."

6: Honey

REMOVE ALL RULES!

"Should I? I Must! I Have To!"

These are rules we create in the Mind. Why do we do it? We do for the simple reason that we are trying to control the world. With our physical actions we are trying to control it.

(People who create rules) think the world is outside of them so they create all these rules to control it.

Start with the feeling that, "I can have and feel whatever I want in my mind."

★ free yourself of the rules you (or others) created. Free yourself in your mind. Fulfill your desires within as you want to.

7: I Am not going to tell you "You are Crazy"

we should do everything we want in our minds with no fear. Doing what we want, which is so simple, frees us.

The moment I have any desire in me, I fulfill it. I don't care what it is, how "big" or "small"! I DO NOT CONDITION IT OR WONDER IF IS POSSIBLE ANYMORE OR "GOING TO WORK".

If you really see your mind as the reality, and you fulfill your desires within, you will see how stupid it all is.

the greatest Self-Concepts, the greatest Feelings, the greatest Thoughts are the ones you WANT to have.

start with changing self radically. See yourself entirely different by feeling what you want to be.

When the feeling or desire comes upon you, THAT is the time to ACCEPT IN FULLNESS! Do not wait, do not put it off. Accept in fullness. That is truly what you want to do!

8: Feeling & SELF

Studying [the law] is one thing, actually accepting it another.

EVERYTHING is an assumption. All those thoughts you are thinking are assumptions, and THE MIND DOES NOT CARE WHAT YOU THINK.

how does one feel? The word is ACCEPTANCE. ACCEPT (your desire) ANYWAYS, ENTIRELY ACCEPT IT IN THE MIND!

Create this wonderful habit of accepting every wonderful desire that comes to you. Then you will become normal.

I thought we were suppose to manipulate and control the world. I thought we were suppose to imagine a scene and repeat over and over until it happened. I was wrong. "NO ONE OR NOTHING TO CHANGE BUT SELF!"

when you are panicking about so-so or what might happen or this or that, remember ONLY CHANGE SELF! There is nothing else to change, or nobody else you must change!

SELF is the way to control and manipulate the world. SELF is who you think you are and what you think you have WITHIN! This is a feeling.

9: If I Am then I will Be

"Nothing to change but SELF", "Feeling is the secret." Well, if there is nothing to change but self, how is feeling the secret? In order to change self, it changes through FEELING. This is so important because so many times, I have and others repeated countless affirmations to see little if any results. We repeat it 1000 times, hope it "sticks in the subconscious." Then we hear about feeling so we force feeling into it, and it changes us for a bit but then it becomes exhausting. It becomes exhausting because we feel that we HAVE TO feel this specific feeling or else.

There is no HAVE TO, but WANT TO. FEEL what you WANT to Feel. You discover what you want to feel by asking SELF inside. FEEL that. It does not matter what it is, just something you have always wanted to feel. This is what changes us.

Forcing affirmations, forcing feelings is not what you want. If you just changed the intention to feeling it because you want to feel it, because you want to fulfill all your desires within yourself with feeling, then you would be far happier.

SELF cannot fail at expressing. And SELF is ALL that you FEEL to BE and HAVE in your MIND! Allow yourself the freedom of FEELING what you want with no worry.

So SELF or yourself cannot fail you. You always express what you FEEL to be and FEEL to have. There is NO OTHER CREATOR IN YOUR MIND. None. You are doing it ALL in your mind. You give or you take. There is no other God in the Mind but you.

We are what we feel to be and have in Imagination and this dream world shapes to US.

10: Fearful Of Magnificence?

We should go beyond just granting wishes and start seeing ourselves highly in our minds.

You learn to stop fearing the wonderful feelings by seeing it is YOU who is holding yourself back.

Once you break through your own fear of wonderful feelings, you will see it was you all along. All fear are mental imaginings that you are creating within yourself. Knowing, you bring the power of CREATION BACK TO YOURSELF.

11: Self Identification

How can I BE what I want?

It lies in your IDENTIFICATION OF SELF. Do not be afraid but IDENTIFY yourself FULLY with the INNER MAN. The immortal you. The one that can do ANYTHING it wants. The one who owns the world and all that is in it. If you identify yourself with the inner man, you will be free.

The outer man see's nothing but limitations. He lives in desire. Too many of us have identified ourselves with what the outer-man HAS and IS, not seeing it is a reflection of the INNER MAN.

See what you HAVE and what you claiming yourself to BE WITHIN. THAT is what is reflected always.

You do not have to persuade others to help you [!!!]; all you need do is believe you are what you want to be and then let the world (which is nothing more than yourself pushed out) go to work to make your assumption possible. - Neville

How can you "believe you are what you want to be" when you the world is showing you otherwise? Again it comes down to "SELF" IDENTIFICATION. Conceptions of ourselves are what WE FEEL OURSELVES, OUR INNER MAN TO BE. The Inner Man has all the freedom to see and feel what it wants to be.

To the Inner Man EVERYTHING ALREADY IS TRUE, not to the outer. IT ALREADY IS SO, to the Inner Man. There is no convincing necessary, no 1,000 affirmations, no repeating over and over hoping it works, IF YOU IDENTIFY YOURSELF WITH THE INNER MAN.

You did not imagine "How" to get there, you are already there in imagination. Your issue is NOT in imagining the end, your issue lies in who you are identifying yourself with. If you imagine yourself in the end, which is easy, but then you identify yourself with the outer-man, you will breed nothing but frustrations.

"Disregard appearances, conditions, in fact all evidence of your senses that deny the fulfillment of your desire. Rest in the assumption that you are already what you want to be" - Neville

Leave the world as it is, with all of its denials and change yourself within and see how it is yourself pushed out.

So discard all beliefs of what you think you are, or what you have been called etc, and Identify yourself with the One Within and you will be free.

12: Personal Reality

stop thinking about the outer-world. You get rid of this 3D reality. You then FEEL that your inner world is YOUR reality. Your own PERSONAL reality, where you can do, have, and be what you want.

We are not trying to "make something happen" or "hope it manifests," rid yourself of these feelings. They will do nothing but block the wonderful feelings and experiences you want to have within. This is your own personal reality.

Once you create this personal reality where everything seems to go lovely, you will see that there is no one to blame for what you were previously imagining. Taking all responsibility for what happens WITHIN us, we can then use that power to change what we want WITHIN us.

13: No Permission Needed

Remember the outer-world is a reflection of what the INNER MAN has, is and does in their own Personal Inner Reality. That is you.

if we wish to have radical change, let's radically change the INNER MAN. Give the INNER MAN what they want. That is, radically change your own Personal Inner Reality.

"DARE to assume" DARE to FEEL (accept) what you want. Without doing that, you remain as you are.

THE INNER MAN NEEDS NO PERMISSION! THE INNER MAN DOES NOT CARE WHETHER OR NOT IT IS POSSIBLE! So in your Personal Reality, your Mind, understand you need no permission to FEEL what you want to feel. No permission whether not it is "possible". Identify yourself with the INNER MAN who is FREE to do, feel and be what they want!

Your Personal Inner Reality is not bound by the facts of this life. In the Reality Within, you can go back in memory and change what you want. It is YOURS to change!

Your Personal Inner Reality is not bound by the facts of this life. In the Reality Within, you can go back in memory and change what you want. It is YOURS to change!

Daily FEEL what you want to feel and experience what you want in Imagination which is your true SELF, the SELF that is reflected in front of you.

14: The God Of The World Of Imagination!

There is this world, the World of the Senses, and there is another world, the World of Imagination. There is a Man who experiences the World of the Senses, which we call the Outer-Man. Then there is another Man who experiences the World of Imagination. We call that Man the INNER MAN.

The Outer-Man sees the limitations and restrictions in the World of the Senses. The Outer-Man feels he is limited and confined to the ‘facts’ of life. The Outer-Man goes through life fully convinced that this World of the Senses is happening to him not from him. He uses only his five senses to move in this World. So naturally he feels like a victim and desires to control this world through the means of force, manipulation etc. The Outer-Man feels fear that life can throw at him things that he is not prepared for. Situations he does not want to encounter but since he feels powerless, he fears the future. Since he cannot change the past, he guilt himself over it. This is how he is limited.

Then there is the Inner-Man who lives in the World of Imagination. In this World, he is unlimited and can create what he wishes. He is free beyond measure and everything that he can be conceive of is his. Everything. Not one thing is not his because he is the Creator of it!

THERE IS NO OBJECTIVE OUTER-MAN. The Outer-Man is simply an expression of the Inner Man. The only Man that exists is the Inner Man. There is NO OBJECTIVE WORLD OF THE SENSES. The World of the Senses, is but the expression of the World of Imagination.

The Inner Man can convince himself that he is this Outer-Body living in this dangerous world but he is still the Inner Man fooling himself into that!

PART 15: Awakening

What the Inner Man FEELS himself to BE and FEELS himself to HAVE in the World of Imagination is what will be EXPRESSED in this World of the Senses.

you are an INNER individual living in the World Of Imagination. In this World, you are God. You can imagine anything. All things are possible here in this world, INCLUDING the FULFILLMENT of your desire. You can change SELF to what you want. And SELF is what you THINK you HAVE and what you THINK you ARE in this World of Imagination. Read that sentence again. And SELF, THAT SELF, is what is EXPRESSED.

As you read this, you are living in this 3D world. You own things within it, you HAVE things. Based on what you HAVE in this 3D world, you create identities for yourself. Remember, we CLAIM we ARE things BASED on what we THINK WE "HAVE."

stop identifying yourself with this 3D world, which is simply an expression of INNER SELF, if you stop identifying yourself with what this 3D person "HAS," and start identifying yourself with the INNER MAN, you will see the freedom.

in this 3D world, we give ourselves identities based on what we THINK (FEEL) we HAVE. So if we can identify ourselves with the INNER MAN, and in that world we HAVE the things we want, we can then give ourselves a new identity.

stop thinking you are "only imagining" this. I want you to stop thinking what you are seeing in your mind is "fake." I want you to stop reacting to what you do not want to react to you. I want you to stop FEELING limited by this World of the Senses. I want you to stop worrying about HOW or WHEN it is going to happen and instead FEEL secure KNOWING this 3D world reflects what your INNER SELF HAS AND IS WITHIN. I want you to FEEL you are limitless within because you are! You do not have to bow down to this world and accept what you THINK it says about you. I want you to FEEL yourself to be the creator of everything within you.

Can you accept that you HAVE what you want because you see yourself (INNER SELF) with it, and everything in this World of Imagination is yours and is real?

PART 16: "What Else?"

How I enter into a New State of Consciousness? Death. Death is the only way. How does one die to a State of Consciousness? By surrendering to the New State. You cannot enter into a New State taking with you all the limitations, questions, and worries of the Old State. The Inner Self must be exalted but it cannot be exalted by holding 2 contradictory States.

When you imagine having exactly what you want in your mind, you do not question anything, you do not worry, you do not wonder "what if," you do not entertain the Old State and its limitations for one second. You die to it entirely.

You cannot bring your current limitations, worries, questions and FEELINGS with you to your New State.

The States or Concepts you hold in the Imagination are nothing but things you "hold." That is it. You think because the concept you are holding is reflecting in your world somehow makes it more "real?" I assure you it is not. It does not really matter if it is being reflected.

PART 17: Dream The Dream

remove the outer-world and remove the idea of "trying to manifest" and simply have the attitude of changing your INNER WORLD to your liking. Here is nothing to do, nothing to force on the outside. You change it, you mold it, you feel it and you do it all within you. You create a new dream, a perfect dream within you.

To "try to manifest," is a feeling. "Trying to get, trying to resolve, trying to make something happen," are FEELINGS you take with you before you imagine. These feelings are what disrupt you from actually FEELING what you want to feel. Instead FEEL that you are solely going to re-imagine, or re-dream a new dream WITHIN YOU and you will change you FEELING how you feel within. These changes is what expresses itself in the world. So if you wish to change the outer-world, leave it alone. Leave it alone and go within and change THAT WORLD, the world WITHIN. Change who you are THERE, change what you have THERE, change how you are treated THERE. Dream up a new World Within!

PART 18: Expansion

what you are seeing in your mind is not fake. And not only is it NOT fake, you can shape it PRECISELY how you want to shape it.

In order to actually lose yourself in the imaginal act, one must accept it is real and let go entirely of the outer-world. One must suspend rational thinking, and just accept it is real.

In order to access this feeling you must not be afraid to assume it is Real. If you are not FEELING it then that means you are still bound by your senses and this outer-world. You need to allow yourself the Freedom to Expand BEYOND the rational mind that is keeping you from experiencing your Wish being granted. You cannot be afraid anymore to feel and imagine what you want.

PART 19: Boldness

Your Mind is your own Personal Reality and you have the power to shape it PRECISELY, and FEEL what you want in it!

This is about giving the Inner Self what you want.

PART 20: Receptivity

Now we come to Denying. That is to say that we must truly let go of what the Outer World is showing us. True Denial is not looking at your World and merely repeating, "It does not exist," but is actually ACCEPTING the new reality within you. You do not deny being unwanted, by stating your are not unwanted. You deny unwantedness with the ACCEPTANCE of being wanted. It is our ACCEPTANCE of our Imagination which is our DENIAL of the senses. So Denying is not something you do, it is the implication of your ACCEPTANCE of the Imaginal Scene.

To stress yourself on whether you are "denying" the evidence of your senses enough is an unnecessary stressor. You do not fight against your senses for they only reflect you. Because "True Denial" as Neville says is "total indifference." But to be totally indifferent about your senses, you must ACCEPT your Imagination as the Reality. To become "indifferent" is an emerging consequence of accepting Imagination as the One and Only Reality.

You cannot wait for the world to change to what you want. You must change what you are and have in Imagination. If you are tired of what your world is reflecting, you can be confident it will keep reflecting that until you change YOU inside your Consciousness. This calls for radically giving yourself what you desire IN Consciousness.

PART 21: Irrationality 

Chances are you truly are NOT giving yourself what you want because you feel some impossibly in it. Forget that. All things are possible in the Imagination. Do it anyway. Just do it. Do what? What you deeply want. Do you for only you, you Inner Self.

PART 22: The Dreamer

Never seeing he is the Creator, the Cause he always fails. The idea that he does not have to do anything, he does not have to work his way out - this idea is lunacy to the Outer-Man. He thinks, "No, there must be a way that I just have not figured out yet." So he goes on seeking outside of himself, yet he himself is a desiring self, and only seeing his reflection, he only see's his desires. Never obtaining them, always seeking them, frustrations, rage, jealousy all stir up within him. Hating his world, hating what he see's, hating his own reflection he wants to destroy it. He cannot win because he lives in a position of fear and failure, and what is within will be without because Man can only give what is within himself.

If only he were to stop hating his reflection, and saw that the mirror only reflects what he is doing, he would be free. If only he were to see the mirror is stationary and does not judge but simply reflects. If only he were to see himself in the mirror and see he is the Creator, he would be free.

He does not have to cope with his limitations, he does not have to fight his way out. He will stop feeling after his fears and become indifferent about them for they are his Creation and has no power over him.

The Dreamer abandons limitations and turns towards his desires and gives it to himself fully. The Dreamer will always dream beyond what his limitations dictate.

PART 23: Unconditional Thinking

To truly grasp the freedom that is attainable within you, you must understand the concept of States. A State is a belief about the yourself or what you believe you will experience, an attitude towards life. There are infinite statues (states) that lie dormant within you. They do not disappear, for nothing can disappear in Imagination. The acceptance that you are the State now, is what brings life to these dormant statues.

If entering into a New State within you is challenging it is because you have not accepted who you are within. You are not a State, but is God. As God within, whose permission are you asking for? To whom do you answer to? If there is only One Being within you, then who can stop you?

If you wish to rise as something New in Imagination, you have to give up entirely your currently thoughts/feelings, questions, worries, what you think of the world, what you think is possible, if you think you are worthy or not, if you deserve the New State etc.

"Don't tell me anything!" That is the secret. Total self-abandonment to the current State is the way to bring life towards the New State.

You have to die to what you do not want to express entirely, a true act of surrender. You can do it.

leave the world alone and go within and die to what you want to stop expressing and allow yourself to be what you want. Imagination is the evidence you are seeking for it is the only reality.

Assume all works in your favor to express your States. This is how the Imagination works. Everything within you is yourself for the taking. Think unconditionally.

💬 may u had a lovely read... ♡ i see u next post!

[rogueddie]

Steve expected things to get a lot worse after the gates opened. But everything is… quiet. The few monsters that do come through are few and far between. Easily dealt with. And the spores aren’t as harmful if exposure if kept to a minimum.

There’s no overwhelming attack. There’s no end of the world. There’s no… Vecna.

El thinks he must be too weak after their last attack. He must be trying to heal, unwilling to attack again until he’s certain he can finally and truly overpower her, once and for all. But, as El insists, that won’t happen. She practices everyday to make sure, stretching her powers and abilities further, and further, and further. Until her nose stops bleeding at the smaller things.

Steves only task is keeping Dustin sane. It’s not an easy task either. He prefers to stay locked away in his room, all the time now. He’d struggled to help with the relief efforts at first, pushing through day after day. But after he told Wayne that Eddie… that he’s gone? Dustin seemed to just… wilt.

He still lets Steve visit. He seems to love the days where Steve can hang out with him for the whole day. He doesn’t mind the company. It’s… the idea of getting up, of actually doing something… even the idea seems to drain him.

Steve keeps visiting him, everyday, as long as he can. He always asks if it’s finally the day that Dustin feels ready to go out. It never is. But he keeps asking anyway.

Those visits are some of the rare moments that Robin isn’t glued to him. He had thought they’d been bad, in terms of their need to see each other and make sure they’re ok, but it’s worse than ever. The guest room is so full of her stuff that she practically lives there. She sleeps there more nights than she does her parents anyway. He’s sure that it’s just a matter of time until she finally moves in.

Just as he’s starting to let his guard down, finding a comfortable routine between visiting Dustin or Max and his work at the make-shift relief centre with Robin, things get… weird.

He’d been folding up some of the clothes they’d gotten in their last batch of donations. Robin was next to him, but too absorbed in her conversation with Vickie to notice that Steve just… stopped.

It felt like something in his head had clicked into place. Like there was some cord in the back of his head that had been floating, loose, but it had finally clicked into place. A buzzing he hadn’t known had been constantly thrumming in his ears finally going silent.

He feels confused. But that quickly turns into panic, distress. Which is… confusing. As weird as the sensation is, he has a lot of problems with his head. It’s not something to panic over. But he’s panicking. He can’t breathe. He has the urge to sweep his hands over himself, checking injuries that aren’t there.

“Steve?!” Robin screams, shaking him.

He blinks at her, dazed, confused. “What?”

“I was calling your name for like five minutes!” She looks close to tears. Even Vickie looks scared, hovering behind her. “What the hell is going on? Steve-”

“I think somethings wrong,” he manages to slur, before his eyes roll back.

But he blinks and he’s… awake? Dreaming? He feels disconnected, yet more attuned to the specifics of his body and its movement than ever before. Every twitch, shift, turn, feels wrong. Nothing feels like him, like Steve.

Lightning cracks, drowning the darkness in red.

The Upside Down.

“No, no, no,” someone mutters… he mutters… Steve isn’t sure. The voice is so familiar that he refuses, for a moment, to recognize it. The hand the points at a nearby demobat, angry and jabbing, only makes his denial harder to maintain. “If this is your hive mind, I’m gonna flip my shit, ok? None of you bitches are allowed in my head.”

Eddie.

He startles, before freezing. He slowly turns, looking around the dark and warped street. It’s empty. It’s just him. Just Eddie. Just Steve.

“Steve?” He asks- Eddie asks. “Wait- oh! Lights!”

No, Steve thinks. He tries to focus, tries to actively think at him. That won’t… I’m not here.

“What? Wait- can you hear me?!” Eddie starts looking around again, but with more desperation. He keeps turning.

Stop, stop, please, you’re making me dizzy.

Eddie stops, stills. One hand comes up, poking themselves in the head. “Is that… you? In my head?”

I don’t know. What the fuck is happening?

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?! Oh Jesus, man, I am freaking out here."

Calm down, Steve tries to make the thought sound postive- he's not sure he's successful. I'll... let the others know, yeah? And then we'll come get you. We can figure this... oh, that feels weird.

"What does? Steve? What's going on?"

I think I'm waking up? Don't panic, we'll figure this out. We're gonna

"What? We're gonna what?" Eddie turns around, desperate, as though he'll finally find Steve if he keeps trying. "Steve?!"

[beaulesbian]

[egghead spoilers, up to chapter 1110]

Sanji's humanity & Zoro's strength

(or lack thereof) - a theory of possible conflict between Luffy's wings before the end of Egghead arc. Long post ahead. Like.. very long post.

So the new chapter had a very interesting new "banter" between Sanji and Zoro, but no, actually just Sanji, because there was no usual back and forth quips followed after.

Yes, this whole post started because of these few panels: (" ...!!")

After rereading the chapter more times I realized, Sanji's not even speaking to Zoro or knows that Zoro can hear him. He's talking about Zoro, and calling him a burden to the team.

Which is just baffling to me? (fair, maybe I'm looking too much into it and next chapter it would be explained in different way) but for now, I need to put this out there and make my own small (long) theory on this.

There's lot to be said about the word burden here, and I will get to it later in the post, but for now, let's start with Sanji and his eyebrow!

It wouldn't be a perfect story if Oda didn't tangle threads of each respective characters from multiple arcs before and brought them up together later on during one of the most difficult times when Strawhats and Luffy are facing off with so much danger (reminds me of Sabaody but in a very different way).

In this instance Sanji's past could be brought up again, something that started worrying him since his fight with Queen in Wano, and especially given that his left eyebrow has been changing its shape quite a lot during the run of the Egghead arc.

Here's just few panels throughout end of Wano up to current Egghead chapter, where Sanji' left eyebrow is in the focus on the pages:

Chapter 1029 was the first part where Sanji was thinking his body might be undergoing some changes he couldn't control -broken bones insantly healed, stronger and faster than ever before, due to him beforehand using the Germa suit which possibly triggered this sort of superhuman modification he wasn't really aware of until then. When he realized he couldn't remember certain memories, he panicked, thinking he might be changing into something similar like his brothers, a scientific weapon created by his father. The worry and panic was all the more present because he thought he hurt someone without his knowing, and that'd slowly take away his kindness and sense of humanity. (Too bad I hoped the changes his body might be undergoing would only be realization of his non-cis gender status, but maybe that's still on the table for sometime in the future.):

^In this second panel his face is on purpose shadowed, which was the last time he was shown in that chapter,

and only again was in chapter 1031 - where his eyebrow changed:

and it takes him to think about Luffy and what his purpose would be if something so important of him would change. He knows why Luffy went after him in WCI, he knows what values are important for Luffy and his crew, and of course he doesn't want to be reminded of his family and his brothers and act as they did. He chooses the humanity, the kindness that Luffy loves in him.

Even to the extent to call Zoro and make a deal with him - to kill Sanji if anything would go wrong with him. "If I'm not in my right mind, I want you to kill me." That much trust he has in Zoro to protect the crew and Luffy!

Of course Zoro wouldn't do anything reckless without a good reason, but part of their banter and understanding each other would be to promise something like that - echo of Thriller Bark and the range of how far Zoro would go to take on someone elses pain. It's a promise to win their separate fights, but also this was something that Sanji put out there for Zoro to take notice of. (I will come back to that later.):

(still the "bad eyebrow" - he had that the whole chapter 1031).

After his fight with Queen (where it was also cleared what his actions were and weren't), he was only shown two times until he woke up, and both times he had his eyebrow back on good side.

1036 & 1044 (hearing Luffy awaken his powers):

All the way up to Egghead he seemed to have his eyebrow drawn this way, and it started to change only during fights -

ch 1075, still good eyebrow, tho.. ehh this behavior.. whatever:

ch. 1078, protecting his crew from Seraphim, bad eyebrow:

in between chapters 1090 - 1105 (most of which were flashbacks and Sanji nor Strawhats were shown) he appeared with his typical eyebrow:

and it changed again in ch 1107 - when he was again protecting Bonney / fighting against Kizaru:

interesting was chapter 1108 where he's standing between Saturn and Vegapunk, and he's describing Saturn with "he's less and less human by the minute" while his own face was obscured, (I mean.. interesting choice of words and what character said it, huh?):

and the next page he still has the bad eyebrow:

in chapter 1109 it's back on his typical side, where it continues from previous chapter of Sanji carrying Vegapunk- so at some point it must have shifted back (and I'm curious if these changes would be noticable in the animation). At this part he's watching how Saturn is summoning the other Gorosei to Egghead:

Which leads me to the point from above with Zoro.

chapter 1110 and their interactions (for me) was just off. I like their usual banter and bickering, it's funny (if it's in the manga and contained to few panels to make sense, not so much in the anime, but i'm not going into that now), but the thing to call anyone of their crew a "burden" just doesn't fit right. (Especially after WCI... c'mon Sanji, and especially to someone like Zoro, who's always the first one to think about the crew.)

I would understand it if he laughed along with the words to elevate their seriousness, or said something like "Finish it up, Mosshead, we need to get moving." but no. He calls him a burden. And again as I mentioned, it pretty much could have been even Sanji not realizing Zoro can hear that.

These words (in my opinion) were chosen on purpose for multiple reasons:

First we have the Zoro vs Lucci fight that goes on for a while in the real world - in the One Piece world it might be just few minutes - plus we don't know how tough were the fights with the Seraphim which let others be injured.

When Lucci attacked, Zoro immediately thrown himself with him away from the rest of the crew. Zoro was possibly stalling with the fight for time to leave. I feel he could have finished that fight earlier but that wasn't the point. The point might have been to hold him back from his crew.

also this was possibly the only fight after King where Zoro could test the limits of his powers and haki, just like Luffy in the Udon prison in Wano was basically training, this (and the Seraphim fights we haven't seen) could be something similar for Zoro.

Some people think that just because of these characters getting new powers it means they already understand how to use them/how it works, but that's usually not the point of how stories go - there can be progress and there can be setbacks, growing up but also falling back down, which makes the stories more interesting.

The words that Lucci used against Zoro were basically the same thing that Sanji said to Zoro few chapters later:

Amongst them he pointed out the Strawhats inability to cut off one of their own out of their crew to save others - like Lucci left Kaku behind just chapters before this fight when he attacked Vegapunk and Stussy (and Sanji trapped Kaku in the bubble prison). It's a play on very different characters and how they think and act to show clearly how they different they are.

The words burden or dead-weight really stood out, already when Lucci said it in chapter 1107, and the fact that they were targetting Zoro - someone who always blames himself (in his mind, not usually out loud) for not being strong enough, and someone who always has protecting his crew at the first place, was interesting in the connection to Sanji repeating basically the same words in the latest chapter.

I will probably make a different separate post only focusing on Zoro and his fear of being weak, but for the purposes of this post, just to pick a few moments where it's important in the manga:

One of the first time I've noticed how much Zoro keeps berating himself with words like "not strong enough" "too lax" "still too soft" "if I'd been stronger/ faster/ better..."

was just after Little Garden arc, where he almost cut off his ankles just to keep fighting. Time after time the crew encounters strong enemies and Zoro gets a new understanding how far up is the limit that he has to reach to keep the crew safe, so he keeps training. ch. 129:

When Luffy went to fight Crocodile and Zoro was worried and kept training on the way to Alubarna, this banter between Sanji and Zoro felt typical between them - it's about the two way street, the back and forth (that's why that new chapter and insult from Sanji feels so foreign, there's no reply, not quip back - only silence and some sort of determination, which isn't good nor bad, just.. weird.) ch. 179:

and after the final fight of Alabasta, possibly one of the first times I really started paying attention to how much it gets to Zoro, this question of how strong he needs to be. (along with what possibly was one of the first introduction of his haki and how he began training the Observation haki, disguised as meditation in the terms of the early manga) ch. 213:

Thriller Bark was one of the biggest arcs in this sense of Zoro and his protectiveness towards the crew and Sanji knows that - he knows what happened there, he even wanted to sacrifice himself in stead of Zoro for Luffy (but this is beside the point here, and I talked about it in other post before).

Zoro took on himself Luffy's pain, and after that arc he still went right to train as soon as he could despite being still injured, ch. 490. "still too weak!"

which goes through to Sabaody arc.

Chapter 510 until the end of that arc is just painful to go through again. Luffy was worried for Zoro and didn't know the scope of his injuries, while Sanji knew and was concerned in his own way too - that is another thing of how they care, sometimes wordlessly but there is that understanding of what to mention or not. ("Burden" still shouldn't be one of the words to use between them, not that far into the story.)

Now - fast forward to Punk Hazard where one of similar moments played out - Zoro telling Luffy not to goof around because they got in the New world and needed to take things seriously.

It was one of those small moments where Sanji was actually one of the few people shown with reaction to Zoro's words and his urgency, ch 678:

Sanji saying "He's so tough on himself" really puts into perspective how he sees Zoro - he knows what he's been through, and knows to what extremes he's willing to go to protect his crew.

He's definitely not someone who would carelessly call Zoro "a burden" even in the time and place and situation they found themselves on Egghead, if anything, he was supposed to be one of the first ones to know how serious is Zoro always about protecting the crew. (Even in the beginning of Egghead, Zoro stayed at first on the Sunny because "who will save them when they will need saving.")

There's few others scenes and parts where Zoro questions his worth and strength, especially in later Wano, calculating what needs to be done so they have strength to face off with Kaido, ch 980:

and later against King, ch 1033 "it was my strength that was lacking!" while unlocking his Conqueror's haki, still unknowingly:

The fact that it's been happening pretty much since the beginning of the story - how Zoro views himself as not strong enough, yet persisting in always getting stronger and protecting his crew - means so much for what character Zoro is and how much he values and loves his crew (just like all the other Strawhats in different ways), and also, as I've been catching up so quickly with the manga, there's been that hope for some call out of this behavior, to poke it where it hurts, to see what would happen if someone turns those words Zoro possibly feels in his mind against him out loud. And that's kind of what's been happening lately - and I'm curious what impact will this have on both Zoro personally and on the other Strawhats, depending who will be around for the conclusion.

Zoro is one of the few strawhats really thinking about the future, plans and what they need to still fight through, carefully calculating what his opponents might be doing, how strong they are and how much of a problem it would be to go through them.

And Sanji normally understands that, he knows how Zoro works and the other way around, that's why he still protected him when Zoro was injured, (if anything, in this moment Zoro could have been something like hinderance or annoyance to Sanji, yet he never said something like that), ch. 1015:

Even on Egghead, where there was temporary truce with Lucci and Kaku, Zoro pointed out how to recognize the Seraphim's weaknesses, and apologized for 'wasting their stamina' - again, calculating on his strength, ch. 1077:

Zoro isn't just fighting for the sake of a fight, he does have his dream and does know what's important to focus on (he himself always keeps the crew in focus when it's important!)

So it's difficult to have a conclusion about the whole Zoro vs Lucci fight without knowing what is Zoro thinking - hopefully in next chapter we will have more info on it (that is number 1111 - Zoro's birthday and bounty! so I hope it will be a big focus on Zoro again). But even beside that, it was obvious in such short time two people around him suddenly called him a burden to his team - something he takes very close to his heart and mind, something that will hopefully have some consequences for us to see and read, because as Oda is choosing words definitely carefully to have the right impact, two very similar words like "burden" don't seem like a coincidence.

To wrap this up - with Sanji telling this to Zoro felt different than their usuall banter, and as I said before - maybe because Sanji wasn't even speaking to Zoro. At the same time, on Wano Sanji gave Zoro a clue that somehting was happening with him, the fact that there was a panel with just Zoro's ear twitching and then being silent, thinking, and not replying to Sanji with anything that would hint to us about his state of mind, and it could mean he's also aware of some difference in Sanji's acting.

The way he says this reminds me of the what Sanji was thinking during his fight with Queen - "what would be more useful to Luffy, regular flesh-and-blood body? Or a cruel, cold emotionless warrior of science." Even for this small part of seeing him speak with Jimbei and hearing what Zoro was up to until then, he speaks without almost any emotions beside anger? Even with his eyebrow not indicating the change, precisely, it doesn't have to be connected in this way, except physical fights, but there could be something still changing within Sanji to make him act this way, a way that really isn't something we've seen before. I think if in next chapters he speaks to Nami, Robin or some other woman without his typical over-the-top pleasanteries, it could indicate how much of a problem this could be for the Strawhats.

So we have Sanji's need to stay human and kind, the pact created with Zoro to kill him if anything felt wrong; and we have Zoro - someone who's biggest purpose from the beginning was to protect the crew and Luffy, while many times we've seen him question his own strength, and now two people in the span of like 5 minutes in the One Piece time are calling him a burden.

It will be interesting to see if this is heading towards a clash or conflict between Luffy's wings while Luffy needs the support to fight / flee from the Gorosei.

To end this too long post, I feel it's very on point for One Piece not to have a sole focus on just one character going through it™ in one arc, but it's always a few crumbs here and few hints there. This sort of conflict would be perfect to deal with both of Zoro and Sanji's respective fears - because this is very much about fears in their minds, while at the same time if they can resolve this, it would only strengthen their crew once again.

[bellaxgiornata]

Distracted

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Matt has meditated around you many times before, and every time you've always had the urge to sit in his lap and see how he'd react. So, this time you do.

Warnings/tags: sweet fluff, hurt/comfort

a/n: I've had this idea in my head for a short fic for a long time now because every time I see the scene of Matt meditating at the end of season 1, I just wonder how Matt would react to someone sitting in his lap and interrupting him. So I finally wrote this! Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably

Carefully turning the page in your book, you tried to make as little noise as possible. Though to you, the soft crinkle of the paper between your fingertips sounded loud to your ears in comparison to the silence of the apartment. Sucking in a breath and holding it, your eyes darted up over the top of your book to where Matt was sitting on the rug just a few feet before you. Worried that you’d somehow disturbed him, you were grateful to see that he hadn’t even flinched at the noise. 

Gently expelling your breath, you found yourself yet again distracted by Matt’s form. Your eyes took in the sight of him once more, your book slowly lowering to your lap where you were curled up on the couch. He was dressed in just a pair of his black boxers, having returned home from his evening out as The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen about forty minutes prior. 

Upon arriving back home and descending the steps from the roof access, Matt had immediately begun stripping out of his black suit in the middle of the living room. Worrying over him when he’d let out a hiss of pain, you’d helped him push the coffee table off to the side of the living room as he'd done a few times before, claiming this spot was the best for him to focus in the apartment. He’d repeatedly assured you that he was alright, saying he only sustained a few ‘scratches’ while he was out–though to you they certainly resembled knife wounds. He promised a bit of time meditating would heal himself, telling you not to worry. And that’s exactly what he proceeded to do after he’d moved the coffee table, denying any medical attention from you beforehand.

This wasn’t the first time Matt had drawn his legs into himself and sat motionless in the living room in mediation in front of you. At first it took the pair of you some getting used to because your footsteps around the apartment had often made it difficult for him to drop into the right state of mind that he needed to achieve to heal his body. For the first few times you’d frustrated him with your constant noise, making it difficult for him to slip into that state. Though eventually he’d learned to tune out the sound of your body while you’d learned to find something quiet to do. Which usually meant that you tried to read a book nearby while really you spent most of the time staring at him half naked sitting on the floor instead, your mind switching back and forth between worrying about him and admiring the sight of him.

Which was what you were doing now. 

His back was perfectly straight, his hands resting on his knees with his palms upturned. Occasionally you noticed his fingers twitching faintly while you watched him. His face at first glance often looked peaceful and relaxed, but you’d come to learn that if you studied him long enough, you could spot the soft ticks that pulled the corner of his lips into a frown. Or you saw his eyebrows knitting together in repetition, as if he was in deep thought. Sometimes you’d see him wince like he was in pain, always leaving you wondering what he was experiencing. Even his shoulders sometimes tensed, drawing up towards his neck as if the weight of the city was finally taking its toll on him.

Eyes settling along his chest, you watched the slight expanse of it as he quietly inhaled in, holding the breath for a few seconds before you saw his muscles contract with the release of it. He looked deep in concentration now as he continued to rhythmically breathe in and out, seeming barely present in the apartment as he sat there. Which, considering he’d been meditating for a half an hour now, made perfect sense to you. He’d told you once before that his senses sort of dulled just a bit when he turned in on himself like this. And that was probably why you staring at him right now hadn’t remotely interrupted him, because you were certain any other time he’d have been very aware of it.

As your eyes lingered along his clearly defined abdominal muscles that were smeared with a bit of his own blood, you’d noticed he’d stopped bleeding a while ago. The blood on him now mostly appeared dry. His wounds looked a lot more like the scratches he’d dubbed them to be earlier–something that never ceased to amaze you. But as you continued to stare at Matt so still and quiet before you, you couldn’t help but be struck by the same urge you’d been hit by a hundred times before. 

Countless times when Matt came back from patrolling the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, settling on the floor in just his dark boxers as he meditated, you’d been struck by the same desire. Often you wanted to just toss your book to the side, rise up to your feet, and settle down in his lap. Partly because you wanted to see how the hell he’d react to you doing that, but partly because it was a genuine struggle to refrain from being near him. Whether it was because you wanted to comfort him or to just make sure that he was alright for yourself, you weren’t entirely sure. But you always felt compelled to just plop right down in that inviting space his legs always made when he crossed them together like they were now.

Bottom lip rolling back between your teeth, you were overcome with that internal confliction once more. Truthfully, you knew you probably shouldn’t interrupt him, which was why you never had all those times he’d done this before. Because he was doing this to heal himself after a night out fighting and being a legitimate hero–even if he blushed and denied it whenever you called him one. But at the same time, you knew he was near the end of his meditation. He never went on meditating for much longer than a half an hour, not for something he’d deem ‘so minor’ as the injuries he’d returned home with tonight. So, really, would you be interrupting him that much? 

Fingers drumming lightly along the cover of the book you’d long since forgotten, you gnawed your lip as you continued to stare at Matt sitting on the floor. Eyes snapping shut, you straightened on the couch, abruptly tossing your book onto the cushion beside you with a soft thump . You figured just this one time you’d see what happened if you did. Either Matt would come out of that state pissed and annoyed with you for bothering him, or maybe he wouldn’t. But either way, you could finally stop wondering what the hell would happen if you just did it.

Uncurling your legs on the couch, you lowered your bare feet to the floor one at a time. Attention fixed on Matt, you were honestly surprised he hadn’t even responded to you slowly sliding off the couch, because even you were aware of the groan from the leather as you moved. When his chest continued to rise and fall evenly, his fingers twitching lightly on his left hand, you took two steps until you were standing directly in front of him. The corner of his lip moved so minutely you almost didn’t catch it, but other than that, he still hadn’t reacted to your presence.

Now or never , you told yourself.

Carefully you turned sideways, trying not to accidentally bump his knee as you did. Then you began to gradually lower yourself down onto his lap, holding your breath and biting the inside of your cheek nervously. When you were halfway down, your hands darted forward and grabbed onto Matt’s broad shoulders to steady yourself just before your ass landed in his lap. 

Face mere inches from Matt’s now, you saw the way his eyes fluttered behind his closed eyelids before they abruptly flew open, his hazel eyes searching the space before himself as his brows knitted together in confusion. Seconds later he was focusing on you, his gaze landing around your nose. 

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Shooting Matt a sheepish smile, you shrugged as you continued to hold onto his shoulders. “Honestly?” you answered. “I’m not sure. But I felt compelled to sit here.”

“On my lap?” he asked, brows raising up onto his forehead as his head tilted to the side. “While I was meditating?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I’ve been eyeing it for a while now.”

Matt’s head canted further to the side, his eyes pinching tight as he gazed back at you in disbelief. “You’ve been…eyeing my lap for a while now?” 

“Every single time you meditate, actually,” you told him. “I always sit over there,” you explained, gesturing your head back towards the couch, “unable to focus on my book because you’re always sitting here. Half naked.”

“And bleeding,” Matt pointed out.

“Right, well, you stopped doing that a bit ago it seems,” you countered.

The corner of Matt’s lips curled upwards into a grin and you relaxed in his lap, your hands releasing his shoulders as your arms wound around his neck. So he wasn’t going to yell at you apparently. That was good.

“Oh, so if I stop bleeding then it’s okay to interrupt my meditating?” he questioned, amusement in his tone.

"You seemed about done," you replied. "And I couldn't resist the temptation any longer."

"Mmm, temptation was it?" he asked, still grinning. 

His hands landed on your hips, carefully turning you in his lap until you were facing him fully, your legs now on either side of his hips. His grin had spread wider across his mouth as he focused on you, his hands sliding around to your lower back before he clasped them together, keeping you in place.

"So, do you usually just stare at me when I'm doing this?" Matt asked curiously. "Is that what you're telling me?"

"Pretty much," you admitted. "But I mean, you're usually barely wearing any clothes, Matt."

"I'm also usually bleeding," he reiterated. 

"Yes," you agreed, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. "Which always has me worrying if you'll be okay. I still don't understand how this works."

Matt's eyes closed as he nuzzled his nose against yours, your body further relaxing into his. His bare skin was warm against the front of you, the comforting heat of him enveloping you as you hugged him tighter. 

"Doesn't matter how it works," he whispered. "Just that it does. And that I'm just fine, sweetheart. Like I told you I'd be."

Shifting in his hold, you tilted your head up and gently pressed your lips to his forehead. Matt's arms squeezed around you just a bit tighter in response as your mouth lingered against his skin, just beside a mostly healed cut.

"I'm glad this was the response you had to me interrupting you," you whispered, leaning back to look at his face. 

Matt looked vastly more at peace now with his eyes closed than he did while he'd been meditating only minutes ago. For a moment you wondered why that was and if it could have anything to do with you. Your heart fluttered in your chest at the notion. 

"What'd you think would happen?" he whispered back.

You shrugged, your arms unwinding from around his neck. Gradually your hands slid up the length of his bare, broad shoulders, rising up both sides of his neck until you were cradling his bruised face between your palms. Gently your thumb stroked his skin, just beneath a dark bruise on his right cheekbone.

"Wasn't sure if you'd yell," you answered softly. "Be mad at me for interrupting you."

His eyes slowly opened again, his gaze focusing around your cheek now. He sent you a sweet smile, one that accentuated the single dimple in his cheek that you loved so much. 

"Sweetheart, I would never do that," he assured you. "Though I'd prefer if you want to cuddle in the future that you wait until I'm done. It’s just…less jarring."

"Duly noted," you murmured, resting your forehead back against his. "Sorry for bothering you. Was just…curious."

Matt chuckled, the warm sound filling the apartment and drawing a smile onto your lips. You shook with the movement from your place in his lap as his hands unclasped themselves, spreading wide over your back as he tugged you in even closer to the front of himself. 

"You always are," he teased. “But maybe I should get up. I’m probably getting blood all over your clothes.”

Hands sliding from his cheeks and back into his hair, your forehead still pressed to his, you lightly shook your head. As your fingers began gently carding through his dark strands, you heard Matt let out a contented sigh that only encouraged your fingers. Eventually your own eyelids dropped closed, relief at Matt yet again coming home to you safe tonight flooding your body.

“Can we just sit here for a bit longer?” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”

“Of course,” he murmured. “I’m happy to stay here with you as long as you want.”

Biting back the smile on your face, you shifted in his hold yet again. This time you buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his sweat and the material of the black shirt he'd worn out tonight. Matt leaned forward, pressing his own face into the bit of bare skin along your shoulder that was peeking out from beneath your shirt. His lips lightly brushed your skin in a gentle kiss, the sensation drawing forth a tingling warmth within you. 

Releasing a soft sigh, you felt a sense of ease overtake you. You could sit like this all night with him if he’d let you, just content that he was home safe.

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 1)

Next ->

Summary: Your "situation" with Ghost went sour, and to ensure that the two of you wouldn't tear the team apart with your fighting, Captain Price sells you to a different private company. You jump from group to group, not really fitting in anywhere, until a risky mission forces you and Konig to bond with each other. The both of you are inseparable.

It comes to light that someone's put a target on your back; you discovered classified information somewhere along hopping between Special Forces groups. The information leads to an issue much deeper and corrupted than anyone had imagined, leading KORTAC and SPECGRU to work together. You realize that time never healed anything, and things would only get worse between you and Ghost - and, now, Konig.

WARNINGS: writer only played COD once or twice, foul language, eventual smut, descriptive gore, angst, Google translate German, torture, violence, mentions of rape (not descriptive, after the fact)

Chapter warnings: mentions of smut (after the fact), foul language

Deep, rhythmic, warm breaths caressed the back of my neck. Simon’s arm was lazily draped over my waist and my hand rested on top of his. His other arm wrapped under and around my neck, holding my other hand loosely against my own shoulder. Our legs intertwined with each other’s, my back was pressed against his chest, and my soul reveled in the warmth that radiated from his being. A thin duvet was loosely draped over our bodies, doing little to keep us warm. Yet a thin layer of sweat still clung to our skin from our intense actions, only a few minutes ago.

I couldn’t help but smile as I thought back to our passion. Every taste was still lingering on my tongue; every touch and kiss and caress still left a blazing trail on my skin. I pulled Simon’s arm tighter around my waist and scooted my back against him. He let out a guttural sigh in response, massaging the skin over my stomach and sighing into my neck. He pushed himself closer to me and squeezed my hands.

“What’s on your mind, Simon?” I asked in a playful voice.

“Mm… what do you think?” he grumbled sleepily. My heart fluttered as he moved his hand down my waist and over my thigh, then back up to squeeze my hip. I arched my back against him, craving more of his touch.

I sighed contentedly. “I wish this didn’t have to end. God, Simon… I could lie here with you forever.” I kissed his arm that held my shoulder.

I waited for a response – So could I. I would never let you go. Why don’t we sleep in, get a late start tomorrow? Who cares if anyone sees you leaving my room? It’s about time people knew about us. A kiss. A squeeze. Even a grunt of acknowledgement. But he remained silent and unmoving, like he couldn’t give a response. Or that he didn’t want to.

An uneasiness settled in my stomach. I tried again, shifting my hips against him and letting out a small whimper, disguised as a yawn. I expected him to hold my hips and grind into me. However, he stayed completely still, forcing himself not to react.

I smiled to myself. He’s just worn out. It’s early in the morning, maybe he doesn’t have the energy to banter. I pushed the uneasy feeling away, assuming his lack of a response was due to something completely reasonable and normal. I forced myself to focus on the moment, the feelings of his warm skin on mine, his breaths on my neck-

Simon sighed. “Bonnie…” he started.

“Call signs now?” I quipped, rolling over to look at him. I did my best to stomp out the anxious flame in my stomach, although I couldn’t help the frown that creeped onto my face. “What, is it time for work already?”

I noticed his face was grim, somber. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. His hand was slowly squeezing my hip, kneading the skin gently… he was thinking, turning over some mind-bending thought in his head. I gently placed my hand on the side of his face and directed it towards mine, yet he still refused to meet my gaze.

“Simon, what’s wrong?” I asked.

He closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. A foreboding sign of his next words.

“This was a mistake.”

My chest immediately felt constricted. For a second, I forgot to breathe. “What?” I pulled my hand away from him.

Simon’s arm left my waist and rested in between us. “Don’t get me wrong here… I loved what we had. You’re amazing in every sense of the word. But, sweetheart…“ he sighed, still looking away from me. “I think it’s gone a bit far, don’t you? It wasn’t even supposed to go on this long.”

Loved. I sat up, my eyes never leaving Simon’s despite the fact that he still wouldn’t look at me.

“We both said at the beginning that this was just for fun. But lately, I feel like you’ve… well, you treat it like we’re beyond that point, yeah? I mean, you’ve been acting like we’re a thing – maybe not outright, but the way you’re acting around everyone else, the way you’re acting around me in public… I’m starting to feel like it’s become more than that to you.”

“Why are you saying this now?” I asked. I knew the question was pointless. Was there ever a good time to say it?

Finally, Simon looked me in the eyes. There was a hint of regret and sincerity in his face. “I just think we need to end this now, before we get too… attached, to each other. Before we make any serious mistakes.”

Before… I felt my heart sink as I processed the words, and their meaning.

“Do you see what I’m sayin’ here?” he asked, now propped up on one shoulder. He looked at me with a pleading yet cautious gaze.

I stared blankly back, even though I couldn’t actually see him. All I could focus on was the devastating feeling in my gut. My mind began racing, my heart started pounding – and this painful sense of dread flooded my veins. I understood exactly what he was saying. Despite my body having an initial reaction, my brain was slower to process any impending emotions. Before… what does he mean ‘before’? Didn’t we get to that point already? Mistake? How long has he thought this? Has he been lying to me the whole time?

I quickly stopped my thoughts from unravelling in my head. No. No no no no no. I needed to get out of here before the pain could catch up to me.

I immediately rolled out of the makeshift bed – two cots pushed together against the wall with an extra layer of sheets underneath – and picked up my clothes that had been tossed across the floor. I have to go. I have to go before this hurts.

Ghost sat up quickly and scooted back against the wall. “Well, wait – don’t you wanna talk about this?”

“No.” was all I said as I pulled on my panties and sweatpants, making quick work of putting my bra back on. I suddenly felt naked – not in the way before, where I wanted Ghost to see and feel every inch of my skin. Now I felt ashamed, humiliated, ridiculous, stupid, stupid –

“Please, love- “ Ghost made his way from the bed and over to me. “ – you need to let me explain –“

I turned away from him as I finished pulling my shirt over my head. “No.” I said again, hopping in place as I rushed to put my socks on. The room was suddenly cold, making me want to curl in on myself and hide somewhere. But I needed to get away from him before I could let myself feel anything. I sat on the edge of the bed and quickly pulled my shoes on.

Once again, I had let myself become vulnerable in hopes of finding some sort of comfort, some kind of goodness. And just like always, it made things worse than before. When will I ever fucking learn. Rage slowly started to mix with the embarrassment and the pain.

I grabbed my dog tags off of the nightstand as Ghost trailed my every move. “Can you fuckin’ grow up and listen to me?!” he shouted, arms outstretched, pleading, as I fumbled with my laces. “Christ, don’t act like this is news, you knew this wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. This is on you for not ending it sooner. I didn’t want to bring this up myself because, well…” he gestured to me as I angrily made my way to the door, following closely behind. “… this. I knew you would fuckin’ freak out on me. Look at you! You never face your mistakes, you’re running away like a fuckin’ coward, you are- “

I’d heard enough. I turned towards him sharply and threw a hard punch right to his face – his left eye, to be precise. He stumbled backwards with a surprised grunt, his hand flying to his face. He looked at me in total shock and anger – I met his eyes, my expression furious. Of course, I knew he was right, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him to be quiet and let me go, before he could see any sort of emotional reaction from me.

I punched his door open and began storming down the hall. The tears started to finally fall – but that was ok. My back was to Ghost. He wouldn’t see them. My breaths became rugged and sharp as I started to process everything that had happened. I jumped at the sound of Ghost slamming his door, followed by the muffled sound of him cursing.

I entered my room and quickly shut the door behind me. My things fell onto the floor as I let my emotions take over my body. I was shaking. Fucking get it together! I couldn’t. A part of me thought I was being extremely overdramatic. After all, we had agreed in the beginning – no strings attached. I was the one who pushed so hard for that. Why does it hurt so much? I was the one who broke the rules. I was angry with myself… and also with Ghost. Why? I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe…

I just thought he might have felt the same. He didn’t have to push me away so harshly. Why did he wait so long to say something? More importantly, Why does it hurt this much? Why did I let this happen?

I slid against the door until I sat on the ground, knees up to my chest. I sobbed into my hands. Everything was so messed up. I didn’t know who to be angry at; hell, I didn’t know if I could be angry at anyone. Maybe this was all my fault, and I just had to clean up and move on. But it felt like there was a black hole in my chest, sucking everything in and still feeling empty. I had to figure out how to fill that hole for good, and I knew it wouldn’t be easy, or quick.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Shadow and Sin: Chapter 7

Elijah Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having just recently moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they truly are until it's too late.

This Chapter: Elijah comes to your rescue after you and your brother get attacked.

Warnings: Blood and Gore, Violence, Compulsion, Brushes With Death, Blood Drinking, Kissing, Loving Touches, More Phantom of the Opera References

Word Count: 2.1k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

“Drink.” Elijah orders you, cradling the back of your head as he presses his open wrist against your lips. The hot viscous fluid pours around your mouth as your weakened body slumps against the alleyway, barely able to register what he’s saying, let alone what he’s trying to do.

You manage to squint up at him in response, feeling your heart beating so fast that it nearly rattles your ribcage.

“Please drink, little Lotte, it’ll heal you.” His words are laced with an unmistakable urgency as his breath becomes more erratic, his concern for you more evident than ever. He tilts your head forward again and practically forces your mouth to open against his skin, the salty metallic liquid flooding your taste buds until you have no other choice but to swallow it. “That’s it, take a little bit more.”

Allowing it to fill your mouth completely, you begrudgingly down another bitter gulp as the rest of it spills down onto your chin and chest, mixing with the coagulated blood from the bite on your neck. His morbid cure oozes down your esophagus and settles into the pit of your stomach, allowing his features to slowly come more into focus; his eyes wet with sorrow as he waits for the sanguine solution to work its magic on you. Once a pillar of self control, now a nervous wreck riddled with regret as he strokes your hair, his jaw clenching in anticipation.

The blood he gave you suddenly steadies the deafening sound of your rapid heart rate, the panic quaking its way through your nervous system eventually following suit. It quiets the alarm bells in your head, gradually easing the sharp yet throbbing pain in your neck and the crippling fear that widens your eyes.

Holy shit, he was right. It healed you, somehow. HE healed you.

“Look at me.” He whispers, taking his wrist away before grabbing onto your chin, inspecting your wound as it miraculously seals itself up. “I need to get you off the street, somewhere safe.”

“Is Austin okay?” You try to turn your head to look over at your brother, but Elijah’s grip on your face forces you to keep your eyes only on him.

“I wouldn’t worry about him. Your brother’s going to be just fine, trust me.” He stares into your eyes, stroking your chin with his thumb as he instills that truth into your psyche. “Now let’s get you home.”

“Alright, but...” You keep staring at him, still too shocked to ask him any more specific questions that race through your mind as your body recovers from the attack. “Shouldn’t you be taking me to the hospital? Or the police station? Somewhere, anywhere else?”

He swallows hard and picks you up off the ground without a word, tucking his elbow beneath your knees to carry you like a bride across the threshold. The hot Louisiana air rushes past you in a soothing breeze as you cling to his neck and shoulders, taking in that dark scent of his as it mixes in with the blood splattered across his suit. He continues to carry you through the quarter at lightning speed, blurring past some of your favorite spots until you practically float up the stairs and reach your apartment’s doorstep much quicker than you thought humanly possible.

Only you know now that he’s not human, no matter what he may look like on the outside.

“There’s no need for a hospital.” He turns his head toward you, his lips grazing over your cheek as he lowers your feet onto the ground. “My blood should have healed you completely.”

“Your blood,” you repeat back to him, not stepping away from his embrace as you try to accept the gruesome truth that stains his pristine white shirt a deep burgundy. “Thank you for saving me, but umm…” You look down at his ruined sleeve. “What about you? Your wrist, it was bleeding, wasn’t it? At least, I could have sworn it was.”

“I’ll be fine,” he smiles, almost amused by your concern for his well being. “I promise. One of the perks of being a vampire is that I heal almost instantly, which is why my blood could heal you. Now, let’s get you inside.”

“Right,” you nod, hoping that if you repeat what he said to you in your head a thousand times or so, it might make it easier for you to accept.

You turn and pull your keychain out of your pocket, fumbling through them until you finally find your house key, noticing that your hands and arms are still caked in blood. Trying to compartmentalize the issue, you focus solely on sliding the key into the slot, shakily turning the handle before opening the door to your home away from the monsters that had attacked you. Still holding onto his hand, you attempt to bring him inside until you feel him forcefully tug backward, stopping as if there were some sort of invisible barrier between him and your doorway.

“You have to invite me in.” He states solemnly, as if it’s some piece of common knowledge that you just haven’t been privy to until now.

Right. Blood, healing, vampires, invitations. This is all becoming a little too real, no matter how excited your inner thirteen year-old self is right now.

“Please come in, Elijah,” you say out loud.

And just like that, the invisible barrier between you disappears as he walks into your apartment, still holding onto your hand.

--------------

“So who were those guys, anyways? Part of some rival vampire gang?” You run a washcloth under the kitchen sink as you try to collect yourself, to make sense of everything that’s happened tonight as the water slowly begins to heat up. You take your time wringing it out as you wait for him to answer until you suddenly feel him behind you, his chest gently pressing against your shoulder blades as he whispers into your hair.

“Something like that, but they won’t ever harm you again.” His bloody hands graze over your arms, encasing your hands as the water falls down your knuckles, saturating the dried blood before he smears it away, sending a wave of warmth up your spine. “Here, allow me.”

His stern tone wavers a little as he takes the cloth from you, his hands nearly dwarfing yours as he begins to rub your skin in slow circular motions until it’s no longer stained that shade of muddy red. You can’t be sure whose blood covers more of the cloth now as he squeezes it out before starting again on your other arm, both of you watching it disappear down the drain.

Once your arms are clean, he takes your hand and turns you around toward him as if the two of you were back on the dance floor of that bar, watching you with a desire that has a whole new meaning to it now that you know the truth about what he is. His eyes seem to darken, but don’t burn that infernal red like the man who’d bitten you earlier tonight, instead only warming you from the inside out as they quietly take in the sight of your face and neck.

Oh no, your neck!

“Are you okay with this? You’re not tempted to… bite me, or anything, are you?” You refuse to relinquish the washcloth he tries to tug away from you as your thoughts of caution come a little too late. You realize now that you’ve let your romantic ease with him override your new knowledge of his potential for violence, putting you both in a compromising position as the space between you closes.

“If I wanted to drink from you, I would have done so already.” He states in that firm, cold tone that you secretly love as he pulls the cloth from your fingers. “But I’ve already fed tonight, and my interest in you lies elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” You smile, unable to stop the twinkle in your eye as his words make you feel a little bit safer. You assume that he wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble to save your life if he wanted to take it the very second you invited him in, but you had to ask, just to be sure.

“To answer your question, those men are part of the underbelly of New Orleans, part of a world that the city likes to cover up with extravagant tourism and ghost tours.” He explains, wiping the bulk of the clotted blood off your neck as his other hand keeps your shoulder steady. “For centuries now, it’s been the reason that so many souls flock to the quarter, to experience the magic and danger of it, all while blaming it on the spirits inside the bottles that they drink.” He wets the cloth again, wringing it out one-handed before bringing it up to your chin, a small smirk crossing his lips at the image of your mouth drenched in blood. His blood. “But then people like you often get caught in the crosshairs, and that’s not what I ever wanted for you.”

“What you ‘wanted for me’?” Your brows knit together as you try to make sense of it all, wanting a bit more clarity than his stoic generalizations are giving you. Was he involved with Klaus, or this… Marcel Gerard that the other man had mentioned before? Or was he simply just in the right place at the right time for him to save you?

Elijah purses his lips together and washes behind your ear, the warmth of the washcloth soothing your previously broken skin as he holds you close, making you forget the rest of your prying questions for the moment. You close your eyes and let him clean you, getting lost in the pleasant feeling of the fabric washing away the horrors of the night and the sensation of his hands on your body.

You can’t help but think back to the other night when you were covered in paint with Klaus in his studio, and now you’re here covered in blood with Elijah. Both of these men are caught up in something much more maudlin than you can even begin to grasp. You get the feeling that choosing either of them would put you in a highly dangerous position, but Elijah had just saved you, no questions asked, while Klaus seemed intent on corrupting you to the core. The images of the Emperor and the King of Swords come up in the forefront of your mind before you open your eyes to take in his handsome features by the light of the moon shining in through your kitchen window.

“It was naïve of me to think that I could have you and not get you caught up in my mess.” His hand switches from squeezing your shoulder to cupping your cheek, having wiped all of the blood off of your skin. “I warned you that the phantom kills despite Christine, not just for her. What I forgot to do was remind myself of that fact. I wanted to be your Raoul, Little Lotte, but…”

“But what? You can’t see me anymore just because you’re a vampire?” Goddamnit, you’d just decided to stop seeing Klaus, and now Elijah’s backing out, too? You can barely wrap your head around dealing with the loss of one, let alone both of them at the same time. “I don’t want Raoul, Elijah, it’s never been that for me, okay? I want Erik, The Phantom, I want you!”

A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You know not what you ask, but if that’s true I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of them, make sure that you’re protected. You have my word.”

“Take care of who, exactly?” You raise your eyebrows at him, hating not knowing the whole story, especially when it’s putting your life at risk. You understand that it takes time to open up to people about certain details of your life, but you’re way past all that now.

Elijah sighs and weaves his fingers into your hair, pulling on it just hard enough to make you look at him again. “Those men that attacked you were random criminals looking for a bite to eat, nothing more. They weren’t connected to any other vampire. In fact, you don’t even remember what they said to you or your brother. All that you can remember is that you were bitten, and that I saved you.”

“Right, you saved me.” You repeat back to him numbly, a docile smile spreading across your face.

“You won’t go out into the quarter after midnight again unless I’m with you, is that understood?” That ice cold timbre returns, quickly chilling you to the bone as he delivers his last hypnotic order of the night.

“I understand.” You nod into a kiss on your forehead as he drops the blood-soaked washcloth into the sink, wrapping his arms around you in a tight yet affectionate embrace.

“Good, now let’s get you out of these clothes.”

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