#context will be given in the next chapters

[mierins]

it's hot, and we rot in this oven // nanami x reader, chapter iii

Teenagers Scare the Living Shit out of Me.

x Masterlist x

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Rating: M Word Count: 4.6k Warnings: Mentions of character deaths

Summer in general, but late June in particular, is the time that curses reign supreme in Japan-- between natural disasters, the listlessness of school breaks, and the way the humidity seems to take on a life of its own, clinging on one’s skin in a way distinctly similar to misery or sweat.

Me, though-- I’m still stuck on campus to an extent, with no missions assigned, and every free one I attempt to apply to take rejected. Fuck the higher-ups, truly.

I’m burning off the excess energy and aggression on the archery range once more, sending a barrage of bolts into the targets once, twice, thrice, till the sun’s climbed up too high into the sky to make even this a grueling endeavour.

“I’m assigning you as a mentor to a new student,” Gojo says, materializing behind me as I’m wrapping up my day on the field, collecting the arrows back.

“You? You’re assigning me?” I asked absently, plucking a crossbow bolt from the bullseye with a bit more than requisite amounts of force. “Does Yaga know about this? Or did you just slip a sticky note under his door again and call it administrative procedure?”

He guffaws a little at that, his voice projecting across the field. “Don’t worry. I’m still the first year teacher, but I want her to learn from you a little in the future, especially before she starts taking on solo missions. Her technique is like yours. I’m sure you’ll get along great.”

“Is that so?” I raise a brow.

He nods. “Mm-hm. Girl from the sticks. Sorcery lineage, but dear old nana doesn’t want her involved with the likes of us. Insisted on coming here anyways-- and that’s a mark for no respect for authority or elders. Sound familiar?”

I roll my eyes at him. “Yeah. Sounds like you.”

He grins, unfazed. “Anyways-- gotta go! I left you a file on her so you can figure out how to introduce yourself when the time comes!” He sidles up out of the training range, leaving me scowling with a bundle of arrows in my fist, probably to avoid any threats of being blasted.

But it’s not until later, that I realize his plan wasn’t just to be a minor pain in the ass.

I’m in the admin office, reading the information on Kugisaki Nobara, 15, from Karumai, Iwate Prefecture, (which he did, in fact, leave with uncommon courtesy on my desk), that I realize his plan.

-- Because, stuck on a sticky-note on the last page is a crude self-portrait of him, blindfold, spiked-up hair, and his tongue sticking out and all, along with the message “Heard you got rejected as a Special Grade again. This should beef up your resume some!”

I sigh, laying the file down on the table and tipping my head back up at the ceiling, wondering if I shouldn’t just hunt him down and try to hit him with Maximum Bang after all. “Fucker.”

It’s a bright July day when the new crop of first year students are brought onto campus by Gojo for their entrance ceremony.

The admissions each year are sparse-- maybe seven or eight people at the maximum number. Usually, the number hovers closer between three and five. Ijichi’s year had only him, and some girl who’d run off to Kyoto to serve as a clan sorcerer instead.

Nonetheless, for every year he’s taught here, Gojo amps up the drama, the theatrics of it all. Something about school spirit or ceremony-- or maybe he just wanted to relive his old glory days as someone who undoubtedly kind of peaked in high school.

This is the first year I preside in an official context as faculty, given the assignment to be Kugisaki Nobara’s mentor, and I stand on the steps behind Yaga-sensei and Kusakabe-sensei both, whilst Gojo prances onto the patio to park himself right next to me.

Three figures walk in behind him through the gate.

Fushiguro Megumi, who looks downright bored, because this whole thing was technically pointless for him-- given that he had been living and working at Jujutsu Tech for the better part of last decade. Despite the fact that he looks like Maki with a bad hair day, and the fact that the very shadows bend to his will, he insistently is not a Zen’in, thanks very much. I don’t blame him. I counted myself as lucky not to have dealt with them closely during the Night Parade.

There’s the new boy, Itadori Yuuji, so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed that I took one single look at him, and think to myself, Oh, no, this place is going to eat him alive.

And that’s before Gojo leans over, whispering, “Oh, that’s the Sukuna vessel, by the way.”

I can understand why he wouldn’t want to execute him, even if the higher-ups were calling for the kid’s head. It would be like trying to run over a puppy. I think only a psychopath would be willing.

I try to picture his face marred by the cursed markings that I’ve seen in the paintings of Ryomen Sukuna, four eyes and sharp teeth and a sadistic snarl dripping with blood-- but I can’t do it.

Poor kid.

Then, my future mentee, Kugisaki Nobara, who strides in with shoulders thrown back, chin high, as if the school owes her money and she’s here to shake someone down and collect. Black tights, hair cropped to her chin and dyed copper brown, a long skirt, and scuffed loafers, like a sukeban throwback from the 80s.

“Welcome, newbies,” Gojo’s saying with a flourish, clapping his hands together with mock-solemnity, “to Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College!”

I zone out on the rest of his brief speech, some kind of droning on and on about the dismal pay, the screws they need to loosen to be effective sorcerers, and on and on-- and I think to myself that I don’t remember my own entrance ceremony being quite so… camp, at all.

I spot Kugisaki rolling her eyes, and I kind of get it, now.

Despite all the ways he drives me up the wall, Gojo Satoru occasionally hits the proverbial nail right on the head. This girl?

We’re going to get along just fine.

“Kugisaki Nobara,” she says, tossing the introduction out like a challenge, and I can’t help but feel almost-- cowed, in a way, with her glower on me, and the hammer slung on her shoulder. I was never the cool kid as a teen-- not with my powers the way they were, and my tendency to huddle with Akari-chan and drool over Tohoshinki-- and I’m a little scared that she’d be able to suss this out immediately.

“I’ve been asked to supervise your training,” I say, hiding my nerves under the weight of a calm, placid smile and squared back.

Gojo had technically given me sufficient notice beforehand, in theory, but the timeframe had been vague at best-- and when it came down to it, he’d practically dumped the task on me last-second-- more like a “favor,” as if it were a babysitting gig, while he gallivanted off on another international mission.

I wonder where he is. Picture him on an international sugar rush, rampaging through the world’s pastry shops and candy stores, before checking in on Okkotsu Yuuta’s progress.

The most recently-classified Special Grade, a non-sorcerer boy who woke up one morning, and found himself with more cursed energy at his fingertips than had been seen in our world for centuries. Whose meteoric rise in the Jujutsu world also frightened the absolute shit out of the higher-ups.

After all, Gojo had always prized potential and creativity, and a fighting spirit, over the Kyoto school’s emphasis on ancient bloodlines and traditional clans. His students are a talented, but volatile group as a result.

And he’d left them to each other, in the aftermath of their classmate’s death. To Kusakabe-san, to Yaga-sensei, and now… to me. The lab rat who hasn’t seen the outside world in literal ages.

Nobara arches a brow that seems too artfully plucked for being a fifteen year old-- but then again, I’m probably just old compared to them. I try not to wince at the thought. “So you’re my babysitter now?”

“I guess,” I shrug. “Gojo didn’t give much other instruction, but given that you--” in conjunction with Itadori, of course-- “haven’t been involved in the Jujutsu world long, he thought it would be beneficial for me to be a guide.” I offer a handshake.

She takes it without hesitation, all bravado and rough edges. “Well, it probably beats the training Panda and Maki-san’s trying to do to Fushiguro right now.”

I dread to think of what that would be, and hope Megumi isn’t getting bullied too badly.

“I’ll be observing,” I inform her as we pace into the dojo. “Take your spot in the ring.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. Cracks her neck, then her fingers, shifting the weight of her hammer from one hand to another.

“Alright,” I say, opening the crates that are stacked to the wall one by one, letting Yaga-sensei’s cursed corpses rise out of the box.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Barely a month in.

Barely a month in, and we’re holding our first report of a student death.

“Itadori Yuuji is dead,” Gojo tells us in the staff conference room, an uncharacteristic stillness to his person. Roiling with some kind of deep-seated tension, like a rip current.

He pauses. Then continues, clipped, direct-- almost unnaturally emotionless. I haven’t even seen him like this last year, after the Night Parade. After he had to lift the burden of executioner onto his shoulders, and kill Geto Suguru, once our schoolmate, then a curse user.

“An unidentified apparition of potential Special Grade appeared two days prior in the sky in West Tokyo City, at the Eishuu Detention Center, above the exercise yard. Its cursed womb was witnessed by several non-sorcerers. Due to the urgent nature, three Jujutsu High first-years were dispatched to the scene. During the ensuing exorcism, Itadori Yuuji fell in action.”

The words filter through the ringing in my ears.

Potential Special Grade.

Jujutsu High first years.

Fell in action.

“I should have been there,” I murmur to myself, voice raw, afterwards, as everyone’s filing out of the staff room, uncharacteristically somber. I haven’t exactly been let out of the cage yet-- and three untested children were being sent to deal with a Special Grade.

Why send them at all? Why hadn’t it been me assigned to the mission brief? Or were the higher-ups going to keep feeding children to the meat grinder? I wear the memories of them all--

The kid from Kyoto.

Itadori Yuuji.

Oda Daiki, and the rest of the graduates from mine and Akari-chan’s year.

And before that too, Haibara Yu.

Nanami, seated across the conference table, looks at me. His glasses are off-- tucked into the breast pocket of his blazer-- and without them, he looks more tired than usual. I heard he’d taken the first train down after receiving the news, leaving Ino to independently finish out the assignment they were on in Tohoku.

I recognize the look in his eyes--

It’s the same one he wore in the months after Haibara died.

I think back to my freshman year at Jujutsu High-- Nanami and Haibara were in their junior year then, and Gojo and Geto and Ieiri were in their senior year. I didn’t bother with the seniors-- all of them seemed so terrifying in their own way, intimidating at the peak of Jujutsu prowess. An untouchable God-boy. An unending well of curses. And a girl who could reverse the flow of decay and death.

Me and my paltry crossbow hadn’t even been in the same galaxy as them, let alone the same orbit.

But the third years were a different story-- at least, Haibara was. All bright smiles and warmth, with an infectious sense of humor that made even, even the stuffy Kyoto students and their senpai Iori laugh, a counter to Nanami’s quiet, dutiful aloofness that had been present even back then.

The two of them had gone out together on a mission, with Haibara promising sweet treats as souvenirs. How could any of us have known? They were no fodder.

Only Nanami came back.

And as if overnight, a pit formed.

We, all of us at the academy-- could feel the absence. The way the food hall became colder without bright laughter ringing out through it. The way more and more missions had to be shouldered by us first years, because the second years were only at the level of becoming auxiliary managers. The way, unmoored by this premature death, all of us drifted.

But it wasn’t just that emptiness that his death left in us, but the silence. The lack of condolences from the higher-ups. The way there was just a boy who was living, and breathing one day-- and gone the next, his files stamped over with a red seal, his name redacted from schedules, rosters, and missions with a black marker.

The way we were all expected to just move on, as if a child hadn’t just died on our watch, and we didn’t have the resources necessary to properly mitigate that risk.

Just like now.

I can feel it building in my chest like a weight-- choking me, cutting off my air. My vision blurs in front of me. Helpless rage. Even more potent now, than in the past-- with my new potential. My new technique. The way Gojo had assigned me to mentor one of these three kids-- who now might have seen her classmate, or her friend, die.

I jerkily slide my seat back, then stop. “It should have been me,” I blurted out-- though the room echoes with the emptiness, the only other person in the space being Nanami. What kind of absolution was that?

He pauses where he’s halfway to the door. “We always say that,” he replies, softly.

I exhale, and stand up, propping my hands upon the desk. “I know. But it feels worse every time now.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“They’re just kids,” I swallow. I don’t know if I believe him. “You and I both know that if I were just allowed to go out there-- none of this would have happened.”

Nanami doesn’t argue with that-- and I think back to the aftermath of Geto’s defection. How it caused this firestorm of whispers and speculation amongst the underclassmen, especially given the fact that our seniors seemed to take the news without even blinking twice. Of course, the Jujutsu higher-ups had immediately nipped the open gossip in the bud-- but they couldn’t really control our thoughts, of which there were many.

I wonder at the ache behind my eyes. I wonder at the helpless futility I feel. I wonder at the names and faces I carry with me. I wonder at the power I now hold at my fingertips.

I wonder if that was where it started, for Geto.

Nanami cuts into my thoughts-- a deep voice, an anchor to the tremble in my fingers that I’d tried to hid by bracing them against the desk. “It doesn’t matter what you were allowed to do,” he says softly. “You couldn’t have known that this would be the outcome.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as his hand presses over mine. “I just wanted to protect them.”

Five A.M. comes and goes, and I’m alone these days as I’m greeting the sunrise, the coil of cursed energy and RCE flowing through my system like blood through the circulatory system. Oxygenated, deoxygenated, a perpetual motion machine.

Somewhere along the line, I’d gotten comfortable with Nanami. Familiar with the way our morning routines slotted around one another. The pale sky above us like a veil, one that, instead of shielding civilian eyes from the backlash of curses, created a quiet little bubble of companionship that we only shared between the two of us.

I miss him, I realize. Not just the metronomic cadence of his steps as he jogs around the track, not just the easy conversation we had after I’m done meditating and he’s done running, as we’re stretching out our limbs together as the sky blushes with the day’s possibilities.

I miss him.

I’d tried to ask around regarding his absence-- even going so far as to corner Ijichi, seeing as he had been assigned to the missions Nanami was taking, but even he, as usually high-strung as he was, brokered no forthright answers to the query.

“Where is he?”

He’d yelped when he saw me, clutching his stacks of files tighter, looking nervously past me as if hoping a divine intervention or Yaga-sensei might rescue him. “If this is about Nanami-san…”

“Of course it’s about Nanami. I haven’t heard from him in weeks.” I almost felt bad for him-- dealing with Gojo for years on end, being the person who’s in charge of passing along mission reports to the higher-ups, and now, my attempts to shake him down.

The keyword here being, of course, almost.

Ijichi shifts, trying to press his slipping glasses further up his nose. “I-I really can’t say, miss. It’s classified. Highly classified. I-I mean, above even your clearance…”

My eyes narrow. “You’re dodging the question.”

“I-it’s highly classified information. Please don’t ask me anymore, miss!”

And with that, he turns, scrambling with his folders, and bolting toward the car park like a spooked rabbit.

I exhale and watch him go--

And notice the sheet that slipped, unnoticed by either of us, to land at my feet.

I stoop, pick it up, and immediately recognize Nanami’s terse, neat handwriting.

2018 September

Kanagawa Prefecture, Kawasaki City

Kinema Movie Theatre

After the showing of Human Earthworm 3, the disfigured corpses of three high school students were discovered by cinema staff.

Cause of death: Increased cranial pressure and respiratory paralysis due to cranial deformity.

Assigned sorcerer: Nanami Kento

Assigned auxiliary manager: Ijichi Kiyotaka

Signed and stamped, with Nanami’s even-handed scrawl. A pretty pedestrian initial assignment-- but it was what was annotated on the margins that I was more drawn to.

Cursed spirit still in its infancy, unlikely to have been around for long. Its cursed technique involves the reshaping of a being’s physical shape through manipulation of its soul through contact. Victims die, or remain semi-lucid under the curse’s control. Ieiri-san has confirmed that restoring them via RCT is impossible.

I reread the final line twice. Think back to all the curses I’ve exorcised in the past. Even Rashomon-no-Oni, itself a Special Grade due to its longevity and durability, hadn’t been like… this.

It didn’t kill with claws, or teeth, or flame. It wasn’t some brutish physical force. This was precision in its malevolence. A curse that could reshape someone. Twist the soul to become something else entirely.

It relishes in the growth of its power, similar to the unregistered Special Grades fought by Gojo-san, which have mastered Domain Expansions. It is likely for the Patchwork curse to also reach this stage imminently. Its victim count has already exceeded my estimations.

I swallow, staring down at the page. Despite the warmth that lingered in the fall air, and the temperature control in the school building, I suddenly feel cold. Multiple unregistered Special Grade cursed spirits?

Cursed technique incompatible with efficient exorcism. Requesting prompt backup sorcerer on case before curse awakens into its full potency.

My name on the next line-- I feel a strange sense of pride-- that Nanami would consider recommending me to fight alongside him like this, despite my overwhelming dread as I sit back on my heels, digesting the rest of the report.

A cursed spirit with victims likely in the dozens. Potential for Special Grade. Potential for Domain Expansions.

And Nanami, who’d directly admitted in his report that his CT was a bad matchup against the curse’s, was being sent out alone to reckon with it.

The staff common room is quieter than usual-- what with Gojo off gallivanting again, somewhere-- and the space is empty save for a shock of bleached-blonde hair with the roots showing through.

“Akari-chan!” I interject, my dark mood lifted somewhat.

Over the past few weeks, with the rain, I’d decided to go meditate in the shrine instead-- but even the scent of incense was unable to clear away the worry snaking through my mind-- Nanami’s silence. The report I’d snuck back into Ijichi’s filing cabinet before he realized I saw it. The battle inside myself whether or not to confront someone about it-- but who? Yaga-sensei? Gojo himself? Nanami?

She turns, and her frazzled expression cracks into a grin as well. “Well, look who’s here!”

I don’t bother with formalities-- those are for people who aren’t the woman who’s been my friend since we were fifteen, and who’s the only other final girl of our grade level. Boy bands and trauma prove to be equally potent topics of bonding.

“I needed this pick-me-up after Gakuganji’s been sending me on wild goose chases for the Goodwill Event,” she’d sighed, slumping back in her seat.

“Let me guess, he’s just been spamming, ‘per my last email,’ on you on things completely out of your control?” I ask wryly.

“God, yes,” Akari replies. “Like, we’re feeding a bunch of high schoolers-- who gives a crap if the cooking wine doesn’t come from some specific distillery in Yamanashi?”

Nanami, my brain supplies-- ever the gourmet-- someone who preferred to spend his checks exploring new restaurants and bakeries-- perhaps the only pleasure he’d allowed himself in an otherwise thankless set of occupations.

I stick my hands in my pockets, leaning against her desk. “If you need help printing placemats, or rosters, or something, I’m your gal. They have me doing basically nothing around here. I feel bad.”

“I know,” she says, looking up at me. “I missed you.”

“You too,” I admit. As fun as training Nobara was, I missed being out on assignment. Missed the pseudo-roadtrips Akari-chan and I could embark on, grasping at little slivers of joy in-between missions. Learning to live by shopping sprees and dive bar dinners in between mission briefs.

There’s a lull as we both settle in-- Akari turning her attention back to her email inbox, where another message sits from Principal Gakuganji, God bless, and I see her read the subject line, the sender name, and then shut her eyes to exhale slowly through her nose again.

“So,” I say, nudging her with my shoulder. “You excited to see Arata?”

At the mention of her little brother, she brightens. “Yeah!” she admits. “I haven’t seen him in months. He’s been training like crazy. Keeps texting me stuff like ‘You’re gonna be so proud.’ Like I wouldn’t be even if he gets knocked out by someone in the first five minutes.”

“You think he’ll hold his own?” I ask her.

“I’m not a betting woman,” she says. “But I’m almost kind of nervous, too. He’s just-- so young. He said he’s thinking about transferring to Tokyo in junior year to study healing with Ieiri-san.”

I nodded emphatically. “That’s good, you’ll be able to keep an eye on him then. Can’t believe he’s training at school now. I’ve only met him once, and he was shorter than the cursed doll we used to practice on then.”

“He’s taller now,” she says with a snort. “But yeah, it’s so weird. I used to change his diapers and now he’s coming by for the Goodwill event. Is it just in my nature as his big sister to worry?”

I think of Nanami’s silence. Of the mission notes I wasn’t supposed to find. “I think if there’s someone you care about, it’s only natural you’ll worry about them.”

Akari nods. There’s something almost pensive on her face, as she turns back to her work, keyboard clacking as she types in some kind of reply or another to some request sent over from Kyoto.

Then-- “I’m not like you,” she adds suddenly. “Or Gojo. Or-- or how Daiki was. Or how Arata wants to be. I’ve long since hit my ceiling. I’m just here to drive you guys, and forward over reports and assignments. I can barely fight-- just some basic self defense and hand-to-hand. I’m not a combatant at all.”

“Akari,” I say quietly.

“No, it’s fine.” She waves it off, and continues-- breathlessly, quickly, as if she were fighting to get the words out before she can lose her nerve. “I’m making my peace with it. It’s just hard, sometimes. Watching the people you love grow into things you can’t keep up with.”

“I’m still figuring things out,” I admit. “This new technique. My place in it all. The promotion they’re dangling over my head, like there’s something missing there, that I need to prove before I’m worthy of them. I’ve always been in the jujutsu world, but now it’s different. In a way that scares me, sometimes-- because--”

I falter-- think of the names I carried, and the people I couldn’t save. Think of Nanami even now, sent off to shadow a curse he had no hope of winning against. “--Because it means I might stop being the person I used to be.”

Akari meets my eyes then, and the hesitance is gone-- replaced by that fierce, loyal steadiness I remember from when we were seventeen and dyeing her hair together after-hours.

“You’ll always be you,” she says. “That’s the part that matters.”

The mat thuds under my hands as Kugisaki strikes again, but the blow’s off. Unwieldy. More passion than precision, all raw edges from her cursed energy and a weight that mostly feels like she’s trying to just break down a door. I brace behind the mat, reinforcing the padding with a thin stream of cursed energy that cushions the blow, but also tells me exactly where she’s going wrong.

“You’re smaller than every Jujutsu student with the exception of Nishimiya,” I tell her, playing the role of the unflappable supervisor.

What I don’t show-- what I refuse to show-- is the way the entire Goodwill Exchange event has rattled me.

(The way Gojo had bounced over with a grin promising nothing good, a box propped on a dolly. Casually presenting Itadori, unexpectedly alive and well. Like he hadn’t died. Like Kugisaki and Fushiguro hadn’t mourned him.

And that was even before the collusion between the Kyoto students to kill Itadori again became evident from the strategic formations they took up.

Before a Special Grade curse had made its way onto the arena.

Before the curse users invaded our campus.

Before the veil descended-- calibrated to cursed energy level. A cruel joke-- barring only Gojo and I out, leaving the kids defenseless.)

I straighten out my shoulders, repositioning the mat.

“Stop trying to equate your body weight with your cursed energy-- all your opponents are most likely going to be much larger than you. I want you to put the weight of your cursed energy behind the blow, not your body weight.”

Kugisaki huffs at me, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t get what’s the difference-- and besides, it helps with the cursed energy output for me to put my body weight behind the blow too.”

I am suddenly thrown back to arguing (debating) with Yuki just a few months prior, about things like meditation regimes, my RCT, and staying in long-range fights.

And suddenly, I’m also filled with renewed appreciation for what I put the older woman through.

I nodded. “That’s a fair point, but in combat, if you can learn to separate them, that gives you more versatility in your fighting style. You also won’t have to compensate for being thrown off-balance by the force of your punches.”

She looks at me-- half-skeptical still, but nonetheless shifting back into her ready stance. “Didn’t you mostly do long-range fighting?”

“I’ve diversified my options,” I tell her smoothly. “Let’s try again.”

Barely a month in.

Barely a month in, and we’re holding our first report of a student death.

“Itadori Yuuji is dead,” Gojo tells us in the staff conference room, an uncharacteristic stillness to his person. Roiling with some kind of deep-seated tension, like a rip current.

He pauses. Then continues, clipped, direct-- almost unnaturally emotionless. I haven’t even seen him like this last year, after the Night Parade. After he had to lift the burden of executioner onto his shoulders, and kill Geto Suguru, once our schoolmate, then a curse user.

“An unidentified apparition of potential Special Grade appeared two days prior in the sky in West Tokyo City, at the Eishuu Detention Center, above the exercise yard. Its cursed womb was witnessed by several non-sorcerers. Due to the urgent nature, three Jujutsu High first-years were dispatched to the scene. During the ensuing exorcism, Itadori Yuuji fell in action.”

The words filter through the ringing in my ears.

Potential Special Grade.

Jujutsu High first years.

Fell in action.

“I should have been there,” I murmur to myself, voice raw, afterwards, as everyone’s filing out of the staff room, uncharacteristically somber. I haven’t exactly been let out of the cage yet-- and three untested children were being sent to deal with a Special Grade.

Why send them at all? Why hadn’t it been me assigned to the mission brief? Or were the higher-ups going to keep feeding children to the meat grinder? I wear the memories of them

The kid from Kyoto.

Itadori Yuuji.

Oda Daiki, and the rest of the graduates from mine and Akari-chan’s year.

And before that too, Haibara Yu.

Nanami, seated across the conference table, looks at me. His glasses are off-- tucked into the breast pocket of his blazer-- and without them, he looks more tired than usual. I heard he’d taken the first train down after receiving the news, leaving Ino to independently finish out the assignment they were on in Tohoku.

I recognize the look in his eyes--

It’s the same one he wore in the months after Haibara died.

I think back to my freshman year at Jujutsu High-- Nanami and Haibara were in their junior year then, and Gojo and Geto and Ieiri were in their senior year. I didn’t bother with the seniors-- all of them seemed so terrifying in their own way, intimidating at the peak of Jujutsu prowess. An untouchable God-boy. An unending well of curses. And a girl who could reverse the flow of decay and death.

Me and my paltry crossbow hadn’t even been in the same galaxy as them, let alone the same orbit.

But the third years were a different story-- at least, Haibara was. All bright smiles and warmth, with an infectious sense of humor that made even, even the stuffy Kyoto students and their senpai Iori laugh, a counter to Nanami’s quiet, dutiful aloofness that had been present even back then.

The two of them had gone out together on a mission, with Haibara promising sweet treats as souvenirs. How could any of us have known? They were no

Only Nanami came back.

And as if overnight, a pit formed.

We, all of us at the academy-- could feel the absence. The way the food hall became colder without bright laughter ringing out through it. The way more and more missions had to be shouldered by us first years, because the second years were only at the level of becoming auxiliary managers. The way, unmoored by this premature death, all of us drifted.

But it wasn’t just that emptiness that his death left in us, but the silence. The lack of condolences from the higher-ups. The way there was just a boy who was living, and breathing one day-- and gone the next, his files stamped over with a red seal, his name redacted from schedules, rosters, and missions with a black marker.

The way we were all expected to just move on, as if a child hadn’t just died on our watch, and we didn’t have the resources necessary to properly mitigate that risk.

Just like now.

I can feel it building in my chest like a weight-- choking me, cutting off my air. My vision blurs in front of me. Helpless rage. Even more potent now, than in the past-- with my new potential. My new technique. The way Gojo had assigned me to mentor one of these three kids-- who now might have seen her classmate, or her friend, die.

I jerkily slide my seat back, then stop. “It should have been me,” I blurted out-- though the room echoes with the emptiness, the only other person in the space being Nanami. What kind of absolution was that?

He pauses where he’s halfway to the door. “We always say that,” he replies, softly.

I exhale, and stand up, propping my hands upon the desk. “I know. But it feels worse every time now.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“They’re just kids,” I swallow. I don’t know if I believe him. “You and I both know that if I were just allowed to go out there-- none of this would have happened.”

Nanami doesn’t argue with that-- and I think back to the aftermath of Geto’s defection. How it caused this firestorm of whispers and speculation amongst the underclassmen, especially given the fact that our seniors seemed to take the news without even blinking twice. Of course, the Jujutsu higher-ups had immediately nipped the open gossip in the bud-- but they couldn’t really control our thoughts, of which there were many.

I wonder at the ache behind my eyes. I wonder at the helpless futility I feel. I wonder at the names and faces I carry with me. I wonder at the power I now hold at my fingertips.

I wonder if that was where it started, for Geto.

Nanami cuts into my thoughts-- a deep voice, an anchor to the tremble in my fingers that I’d tried to hid by bracing them against the desk. “It doesn’t matter what you were allowed to do,” he says softly. “You couldn’t have known that this would be the outcome.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as his hand presses over mine. “I just wanted to protect them.”

“Kugisaki Nobara,” she says, tossing the introduction out like a challenge, and I can’t help but feel almost-- cowed, in a way, with her glower on me, and the hammer slung on her shoulder. I was never the cool kid as a teen-- not with my powers the way they were, and my tendency to huddle with Akari-chan and drool over Tohoshinki-- and I’m a little scared that she’d be able to suss this out immediately.

“I’ve been asked to supervise your training,” I say, hiding my nerves under the weight of a calm, placid smile and squared back.

Gojo had technically given me sufficient notice beforehand, in theory, but the timeframe had been vague at best-- and when it came down to it, he’d practically dumped the task on me last-second-- more like a “favor,” as if it were a babysitting gig, while he gallivanted off on another international mission.

I wonder where he is. Picture him on an international sugar rush, rampaging through the world’s pastry shops and candy stores, before checking in on Okkotsu Yuuta’s progress.

The most recently-classified Special Grade, a non-sorcerer boy who woke up one morning, and found himself with more cursed energy at his fingertips than had been seen in our world for centuries. Whose meteoric rise in the Jujutsu world also frightened the absolute shit out of the higher-ups.

After all, Gojo had always prized potential and creativity, and a fighting spirit, over the Kyoto school’s emphasis on ancient bloodlines and traditional clans. His students are a talented, but volatile group as a result.

And he’d left them to each other, in the aftermath of their classmate’s death. To Kusakabe-san, to Yaga-sensei, and now… to me. The lab rat who hasn’t seen the outside world in literal ages.

Nobara arches a brow that seems too artfully plucked for being a fifteen year old-- but then again, I’m probably just old compared to them. I try not to wince at the thought. “So you’re my babysitter now?”

“I guess,” I shrug. “Gojo didn’t give much other instruction, but given that you--” in conjunction with the late Itadori-- “haven’t been involved in the Jujutsu world long, he thought it would be beneficial for me to be a guide.” I offer a handshake.

She takes it without hesitation, all bravado and rough edges. “Well, it probably beats the training Panda and Maki-san’s trying to do to Fushiguro right now.”

I dread to think of what that would be, and hope Megumi isn’t getting bullied too badly.

“I’ll be observing,” I inform her as we pace into the dojo. “Take your spot in the ring.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. Cracks her neck, then her fingers, shifting the weight of her hammer from one hand to another.

“Alright,” I say, opening the crates that are stacked to the wall one by one, letting Yaga-sensei’s cursed corpses rise out of the box.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Five A.M. comes and goes, and I’m alone these days as I’m greeting the sunrise, the coil of cursed energy and RCE flowing through my system like blood through the circulatory system. Oxygenated, deoxygenated, a perpetual motion machine.

Somewhere along the line, I’d gotten comfortable with Nanami. Familiar with the way our morning routines slotted around one another. The pale sky above us like a veil, one that, instead of shielding civilian eyes from the backlash of curses, created a quiet little bubble of companionship that we only shared between the two of us.

I miss him, I realize. Not just the metronomic cadence of his steps as he jogs around the track, not just the easy conversation we had after I’m done meditating and he’s done running, as we’re stretching out our limbs together as the sky blushes with the day’s possibilities.

I miss him.

I’d tried to ask around regarding his absence-- even going so far as to corner Ijichi, seeing as he had been assigned to the missions Nanami was taking, but even he, as usually high-strung as he was, brokered no forthright answers to the query.

“Where is he?”

He’d yelped when he saw me, clutching his stacks of files tighter, looking nervously past me as if hoping a divine intervention or Yaga-sensei might rescue him. “If this is about Nanami-san…”

“Of course it’s about Nanami. I haven’t heard from him in weeks.” I almost felt bad for him-- dealing with Gojo for years on end, being the person who’s in charge of passing along mission reports to the higher-ups, and now, my attempts to shake him down.

The keyword here being, of course, almost.

Ijichi shifts, trying to press his slipping glasses further up his nose. “I-I really can’t say, miss. It’s classified. Highly classified. I-I mean, above even your clearance…”

My eyes narrow. “You’re dodging the question.”

“I-it’s highly classified information. Please don’t ask me anymore, miss!”

And with that, he turns, scrambling with his folders, and bolting toward the car park like a spooked rabbit.

I exhale and watch him go--

And notice the sheet that slipped, unnoticed by either of us, to land at my feet.

I stoop, pick it up, and immediately recognize Nanami’s terse, neat handwriting.

2018 September

Kanagawa Prefecture, Kawasaki City

Kinema Movie Theatre

After the showing of Human Earthworm 3, the disfigured corpses of three high school students were discovered by cinema staff.

Cause of death: Increased cranial pressure and respiratory paralysis due to cranial deformity.

Assigned sorcerer: Nanami Kento

Assigned auxiliary manager: Ijichi Kiyotaka

Signed and stamped, with Nanami’s even-handed scrawl. A pretty pedestrian initial assignment-- but it was what was annotated on the margins that I was more drawn to.

Cursed spirit still in its infancy, unlikely to have been around for long. Its cursed technique involves the reshaping of a being’s physical shape through manipulation of its soul through contact. Victims die, or remain semi-lucid under the curse’s control. Ieiri-san has confirmed that restoring them via RCT is impossible.

I reread the final line twice. Think back to all the curses I’ve exorcised in the past. Even Rashomon-no-Oni, itself a Special Grade due to its longevity and durability, hadn’t been like… this.

It didn’t kill with claws, or teeth, or flame. It wasn’t some brutish physical force. This was precision in its malevolence. A curse that could reshape someone. Twist the soul to become something else entirely.

It relishes in the growth of its power, similar to the unregistered Special Grades fought by Gojo-san, which have mastered Domain Expansions. It is likely for the Patchwork curse to also reach this stage imminently. Its victim count has already exceeded my estimations.

I swallow, staring down at the page. Despite the warmth that lingered in the fall air, and the temperature control in the school building, I suddenly feel cold. Multiple unregistered Special Grade cursed spirits?

Cursed technique incompatible with efficient exorcism. Requesting prompt backup sorcerer on case before curse awakens into its full potency.

My name on the next line-- I feel a strange sense of pride-- that Nanami would consider recommending me to fight alongside him like this, despite my overwhelming dread as I sit back on my heels, digesting the rest of the report.

A cursed spirit with victims likely in the dozens. Potential for Special Grade. Potential for Domain Expansions.

And Nanami, who’d directly admitted in his report that his CT was a bad matchup against the curse’s, was being sent out alone to reckon with it.

The staff common room is quieter than usual-- what with Gojo off gallivanting again, somewhere-- and the space is empty save for a shock of bleached-blonde hair with the roots showing through.

“Akari-chan!” I interject, my dark mood lifted somewhat.

Over the past few weeks, with the rain, I’d decided to go meditate in the shrine instead-- but even the scent of incense was unable to clear away the worry snaking through my mind-- Nanami’s silence. The report I’d snuck back into Ijichi’s filing cabinet before he realized I saw it. The battle inside myself whether or not to confront someone about it-- but who? Yaga-sensei? Gojo himself? Nanami?

She turns, and her frazzled expression cracks into a grin as well. “Well, look who’s here!”

I don’t bother with formalities-- those are for people who aren’t the woman who’s been my friend since we were fifteen, and who’s the only other final girl of our grade level. Boy bands and trauma prove to be equally potent topics of bonding.

“I needed this pick-me-up after Gakuganji’s been sending me on wild goose chases for the Goodwill Event,” she’d sighed, slumping back in her seat.

“Let me guess, he’s just been spamming, ‘per my last email,’ on you on things completely out of your control?” I ask wryly.

“God, yes,” Akari replies. “Like, we’re feeding a bunch of high schoolers-- who gives a crap if the cooking wine doesn’t come from some specific distillery in Yamanashi?”

Nanami, my brain supplies-- ever the gourmet-- someone who preferred to spend his checks exploring new restaurants and bakeries-- perhaps the only pleasure he’d allowed himself in an otherwise thankless set of occupations.

I stick my hands in my pockets, leaning against her desk. “If you need help printing placemats, or rosters, or something, I’m your gal. They have me doing basically nothing around here. I feel bad.”

“I know,” she says, looking up at me. “I missed you.”

“You too,” I admit. As fun as training Nobara was, I missed being out on assignment. Missed the pseudo-roadtrips Akari-chan and I could embark on, grasping at little slivers of joy in-between missions. Learning to live by shopping sprees and dive bar dinners in between mission briefs.

There’s a lull as we both settle in-- Akari turning her attention back to her email inbox, where another message sits from Principal Gakuganji, God bless, and I see her read the subject line, the sender name, and then shut her eyes to exhale slowly through her nose again.

“So,” I say, nudging her with my shoulder. “You excited to see Arata?”

At the mention of her little brother, she brightens. “Yeah!” she admits. “I haven’t seen him in months. He’s been training like crazy. Keeps texting me stuff like ‘You’re gonna be so proud.’ Like I wouldn’t be even if he gets knocked out by someone in the first five minutes.”

“You think he’ll hold his own?” I ask her.

“I’m not a betting woman,” she says. “But I’m almost kind of nervous, too. He’s just-- so young. He said he’s thinking about transferring to Tokyo in junior year to study healing with Ieiri-san.”

I nodded emphatically. “That’s good, you’ll be able to keep an eye on him then. Can’t believe he’s training at school now. I’ve only met him once, and he was shorter than the cursed doll we used to practice on then.”

“He’s taller now,” she says with a snort. “But yeah, it’s so weird. I used to change his diapers and now he’s coming by for the Goodwill event. Is it just in my nature as his big sister to worry?”

I think of Nanami’s silence. Of the mission notes I wasn’t supposed to find. “I think if there’s someone you care about, it’s only natural you’ll worry about them.”

Akari nods. There’s something almost pensive on her face, as she turns back to her work, keyboard clacking as she types in some kind of reply or another to some request sent over from Kyoto.

Then-- “I’m not like you,” she adds suddenly. “Or Gojo. Or-- or how Daiki was. Or how Arata wants to be. I’ve long since hit my ceiling. I’m just here to drive you guys, and forward over reports and assignments. I can barely fight-- just some basic self defense and hand-to-hand. I’m not a combatant at all.”

“Akari,” I say quietly.

“No, it’s fine.” She waves it off, and continues-- breathlessly, quickly, as if she were fighting to get the words out before she can lose her nerve. “I’m making my peace with it. It’s just hard, sometimes. Watching the people you love grow into things you can’t keep up with.”

“I’m still figuring things out,” I admit. “This new technique. My place in it all. The promotion they’re dangling over my head, like there’s something missing there, that I need to prove before I’m worthy of them. I’ve always been in the jujutsu world, but now it’s different. In a way that scares me, sometimes-- because--”

I falter-- think of the names I carried, and the people I couldn’t save. Think of Nanami even now, sent off to shadow a curse he had no hope of winning against. “--Because it means I might stop being the person I used to be.”

Akari meets my eyes then, and the hesitance is gone-- replaced by that fierce, loyal steadiness I remember from when we were seventeen and dyeing her hair together after-hours.

“You’ll always be you,” she says. “That’s the part that matters.”

The mat thuds under my hands as Kugisaki strikes again, but the blow’s off. Unwieldy. More passion than precision, all raw edges from her cursed energy and a weight that mostly feels like she’s trying to just break down a door. I brace behind the mat, reinforcing the padding with a thin stream of cursed energy that cushions the blow, but also tells me exactly where she’s going wrong.

“You’re smaller than every Jujutsu student with the exception of Nishimiya,” I tell her, playing the role of the unflappable supervisor.

What I don’t show-- what I refuse to show-- is the way the entire Goodwill Exchange event has rattled me.

(The way Gojo had bounced over with a grin promising nothing good, a box propped on a dolly. Casually presenting Itadori, unexpectedly alive and well. Like he hadn’t died. Like Kugisaki and Fushiguro hadn’t mourned him.

And that was even before the collusion between the Kyoto students to kill Itadori again became evident from the strategic formations they took up.

Before a Special Grade curse had made its way onto the arena.

Before the curse users invaded our campus.

Before the veil descended-- calibrated to cursed energy level. A cruel joke-- barring only Gojo and I out, leaving the kids defenseless.)

I straighten out my shoulders, repositioning the mat.

“Stop trying to equate your body weight with your cursed energy-- all your opponents are most likely going to be much larger than you. I want you to put the weight of your cursed energy behind the blow, not your body weight.”

Kugisaki huffs at me, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t get what’s the difference-- and besides, it helps with the cursed energy output for me to put my body weight behind the blow too.”

I am suddenly thrown back to arguing (debating) with Yuki just a few months prior, about things like meditation regimes, my RCT, and staying in long-range fights.

And suddenly, I’m also filled with renewed appreciation for what I put the older woman through.

I nodded. “That’s a fair point, but in combat, if you can learn to separate them, that gives you more versatility in your fighting style. You also won’t have to compensate for being thrown off-balance by the force of your punches.”

She looks at me-- half-skeptical still, but nonetheless shifting back into her ready stance. “Didn’t you mostly do long-range fighting?”

“I’ve diversified my options,” I tell her smoothly. “Let’s try again.”

[mini-misfits]

Healing A Mechanical Heart

Chapter 1

‘Movement detected.’

That’s all Karel needs to hear.

Hiding behind the remains of a child’s stuffed unicorn toy isn’t the best hiding spot but hey, when you’re 4 inches tall and blood is gushing out of your right leg, you gotta do what you gotta do.

He takes a look down from the shelf, glaring down at the beeping machine. This should have been an easy trip. Yeah, right. If only his brother could see him now.

The robot remains stationed at the shelf, starting from the bottom. It’ll only be a matter of time before it reaches the third shelf. Like that’s going to happen. 

Karel opens his bag, rummaging around, peeking from behind the toy to watch the robot. There’s a loud crash and he looks down to see the robot throw some kind of box at the wall across from him, leaving a large dent. The robot keeps hurling random items around, its beeping getting louder.

Karel stays paralyzed, staring in fear at the automation before snapping out of it. He reaches into his bag again with sweaty hands. When his fingers finally reach it, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He yanks out what he needs, carefully crawling from behind the toy. He winces as the robot throws a framed photo which flies out the window. Karel stands up, steadying himself before he falls over. He glares at his leg, swearing under his breath. Mom was right, I should’ve brought bandages.

The robot continues its rampage, moving from the bottom shelf to the second shelf. With fumbling hands, Karel places the bomb in the slingshot. A bead of sweat makes its way down his nose, leaving a stain on his pants. Focus. Breathe in, and out. In and out.

The robot moves again, getting even closer to the third shelf, beeping as if it might explode.

With a deep breath, Karel releases the bomb, falling over in the process. 

Time seems to still as the small bomb flies through the air, landing across the room. Karel dares not move, as if even the slightest movement might be the death of him.

The sound of the tiny bomb hitting the ground is enough to startle the robot. It turns around with an urgent beep to inspect it. Karel hides behind the toy again, hands clamped tight over his ears. His heart skips a beat, and he shuts his eyes tight holding his breath. 

1…

2…

3…

Huh?

The robot stares at the bomb holding it in its hand. Blood drains from Karel’s face as his eyes widen, heart beating a mile a minute. 

Why…. why hadn’t it-

No.

Forget the bomb.

Karel tugs his grappling hook out of the bag with shaking hands. He latches it onto the edge of the shelf and makes his descent, his eyes not leaving the robot even once. His hands slip and he has to bite his tongue before he can shout. The stupid robot keeps staring at the bomb, thank God. He looks down, the floor getting closer and closer with each movement.

Almost there…

‘Movement detected.’

Karel yelps, his grip immediately leaving the grappling hook. He hits the floor with a thud, crying out, blood staining the floor. He looks up at the robot, even bigger than from the shelf, making its way to him and pushes himself up, stumbling. 

The robot reaches down but rolls out of the way and stands up, rushing toward the door. It takes a swipe at him, moments away from scratching his clothes. 

He runs out the door, limping slightly. He staggers out of the hallway, his hand on the wall for support. He’s careful to avoid the scratches and blood on the wall. He edges around a torn picture, closing his eyes as he passes by it. 

Karel enters the “living room”. His eyes take in the scratches on the wall, blood on the floor and walls, broken objects littering the floor. This is a sight I’ll probably never get used to. 

Static beeping interrupts his thoughts and he panics. His gaze darts around the room and he spots a couch, ripped and battered and slanting a bit.

 He hides under the torn-up couch, slumping to the ground, breathless. He opens one eye and groans as he sees the robot.

Slowly, soundlessly, it enters the room. Its cute, bright pastel color scheme is unnatural compared to the dull, sunken atmosphere of the room. In a normal world, no one would guess what such a creature could be capable of.

The robot continues its rampage, flinging a painting with one hand and kicking a fallen lamp to the side.

The machine moves around the room, twitching every other second. malfunctioned, that stupid machine. 

In the corner of his vision is the empty door frame, bringing light into the dull room. His gaze doesn’t waver for even a second, and he crawls toward it, in a trance.

BANG

Karel lets out a shout and turns, his heart stopping for what must be the tenth time today. 

The robot lifts the couch with ease, bending it a bit. Karel stares in horror as the robot pushes the couch away, its gaze locked on nothing but him, like a ravenous lion staring at a gazelle. Like hell is he going to stay in this hellhole any longer.

With newfound energy, he sprints (at least, as fast as you can with a messed-up leg) out the door. He grabs a spare hook from his bag to descend from the porch. He runs past broken glass and blood stains before slumping to the ground, clutching his leg. 

He wastes one moment to look back at the front door and his face pales. He's shortsighted alright, but it’s possible for him not to notice the several tiny bombs lying on the porch. His hand wanders down to his satchel.

His half-opened satchel.

Crap.

He tries to get up but his leg twists, causing him to cry out in pain. The noise alerts the robot, who makes its way to the doorway. Karel crawls away, looking back as it inches closer.

And closer…

And closer…

And…

BOOM

His ears ring as he's blown away from the impact. His head might as well have split open from how hard it hit the ground. Eyes half open, he raises his head to see the already crumbling house nothing but a pile of glass, brick, and rubble. He turns his head to see a shiny piece of metal twice his size land near his head with a clang. The robot's arm.

Karel puts his head back down with a sigh.

That robot might have not been able to kill him, but his mom will.

Annnd that's it! My first g/t story on Tumblr. I'm kind of nervous but let's see how it goes! More will be explained in later chapters.

[neversetyoufree]

Absolutely obsessed with the way Noé says "the clanking individual"

[dipplinduo]

Dang, I missed the chaos poll. But at least everyone agrees that Poetry Kieran would be interesting. Now, will the poetry tug at our heartstrings, or will it be a classic "everything is meaningless" kind of thing?

(Context: Silly poll for The Dichotomy in Our Hearts )

It's an angsty poem about/privately dedicated to Juliana 😏 (although he'd never want her to actually see it)

[mrgoldmc26]

Yuna goes to School Part 1

Tags: Different sexual partners, blowjob, anal, creampie, lots of dirty talk, spanking, school sex, cum swallowing, facial, daddy kink and more...

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: Hey, guys. Sorry for the long wait for another chapter. I hope you guys like this one. Decided to try something new, not only in terms on kinks, but also writing style. Wanted to make some words stand out (in terms of their meaning), so I made them bold just add that little extra umpf to it.

Also, no way near as many pics as in my other chapters, because I wanted to keep the theme of this chapter.

The following is a Fan Fiction and should be treated as such.

"Ten more days in this shithole, and I'm free forever." Yuna thought to herself.

Life as an idol wasn't easy, especially if you were still in school. There wasn't a single spot inside the school where Yuna could go without feeling someone looking at her. Because she had debuted with Itzy at such a young age, almost 3 years ago, it meant she was by far the most popular girl in the school, and with that came great responsibilities.

There was a lot of pressure on her at all times. She couldn't get caught lacking. Yuna had to look flawless at every moment. She also had to be extremely careful with what she said and did, or else all it took was one video out of context and her career would be over, just like that. But perhaps most importantly, just like any other student, her grades had to be top-notch. Netizens would destroy Yuna online if they found out she was just as dumb as the average BTS fan...

Unfortunately for Yuna, balancing idol life with school studies was starting to get increasingly more difficult, and with the final exam just around the corner, she knew she needed help.

Knowing this, Yuna decided to head over to the school library, where she luckily found the smartest student in the whole school. He was one of those prodigy kids...a black guy that came to Korea through one of those exchange student programs. Not only was he the smartest guy in the school, but he was also in her class, which meant that if there was anyone who could help her, it was him.

"Hey...do you mind if I sit here, next to you?"

The boy was very shy, and why wouldn't he be? Hottest girl in the school wanting to sit right next to you...a celebrity, an idol, a legend in the making, and a future icon of the business...it was perfectly normal for him to feel this way towards her, especially when she wanted to be right next to him.

He nodded very quietly, and Yuna sat down next to him.

"Can you help me study for the test? I really need it." She asked, giving him the eyes.

"Uhhmm, y-yeah...of course..."

Yuna almost burst out laughing with how much the poor boy was shaking, but she managed to hold it, and instead she just smiled at him.

The two started going over the potential exercises that could show up in the test, and it was going nicely for the first couple of minutes until Yuna decided to rest her hand on his thigh, and that's when she felt a large bulge in his pants. The guy was rock hard, just from being next to Yuna, and he shifted in his seat as soon as he felt her hand touch his boner.

"Uhmmm, sorry." Yuna said, immediately removing her hand.

The guy gulped down hard, hoping that she didn't feel how hard he was for her, but Yuna knew...Yuna knew and she wanted it...badly.

It was Yuna's biggest weakness...cocks. The bigger, the better. The more, the merrier. She couldn't help herself. Not ever since Ryujin opened her doors to this side of the universe, shortly after she turned 18, almost two months ago. Ever since the day that Ryujin invited a fan backstage after a show for a special "Meet & Greet" with both of them, Yuna couldn't think of anything else other than cocks. During classes, all she could think about was which guy she should pick to bring over to the bathroom and blow him during the intervals.

Yuna never would've guessed that this shy smart boy had a big cock, but she should've, given he was black.

As for him, he lost all composure once he felt her hand on his pants. After that, he could no longer help Yuna with studies...hell...he could barely string a sentence together...

"Do you want me to take care of that?"

"Huh?...what?!"

"C'mon, I know you want it."

"B-but...we are in the library."

"Chill, look around...there is barely anyone here, plus we are like in the most hidden corner of the library. We are not gonna get caught." Yuna said, getting off her chair and sliding to her knees.

She immediately started working on his pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down to his ankles alongside his boxers.

"Yuna, are you sure? This is cra..fuckkkkkk"

His sentence died in his mouth as soon as Yuna took his whole length down her throat. She deepthroated his enormous black cock a few times before pulling back, and she already had multiple strings of spit dripping down her chin.

"Fuck, I love sucking big black cocks." She said, giving his shaft a few strokes before sliding her lips past his dick and taking him into her mouth once again.

The guy was in utter disbelief of how he managed to get into this situation in the first place, but he didn't care. He very well knew this was his only chance of fucking a K-Pop idol, and he wasn't going to waste it. He no longer cared if he got caught, and neither did Yuna.

He remained seated on the chair and let Yuna do all the work. The 18-year-old idol happily bobbed her head up and down on his big black cock and kept slurping away. The guy threw his head back as Yuna constantly choked herself on his dick.

"Yuna...I'm not going to last much longer."

Yuna smiled with his cock in her mouth and kept sucking his dick for a couple more seconds before releasing him with a loud pop in the practically empty school library.

"Good...then don't. Stand up, fuck my face, and cum down my throat." She said, holding his massive black cock with both of her hands and rapidly stroking it whilst sliding her tongue across his sensitive tip.

Every word that came out of the mouth of Itzy's maknae fueled his lust for her, and his shy barrier was rapidly cracking. He was eager to fulfill Yuna's request, and so he stood up, put his hands on each side of her face, and started smashing his cock into the back of Yuna's throat. Yuna proudly gagged around his black cock like the naughty student that she was and took it all the way down. Her school uniform was covered in drool in just a matter of seconds, but that didn't stop him from thrusting his hips and giving Yuna all of his cock.

Seeing Yuna on her knees with her mouth stuffed full of his brown cock only made him grow in confidence, and he decided to show her this by slapping the left cheek of her face with his right hand a few times, until it became red. Yuna was loving every single second of it, and she made sure to tell him by removing his hard dick from her mouth and slapping her face with it for a couple of seconds.

Yuna's efforts on his cock sent him to a point of no return, and he quickly grabbed hold of her hair and shoved his dick right back into her mouth. Yuna's eyes were wide open as she got caught by surprise, but she didn't mind it. She loved it, actually. Loved feeling his hard cock slide past her lips each time he went in and out of her mouth. Loved feeling his heavy balls hit her chin with each thrust. And she fucking loved when he eventually blew his load inside her mouth, sending multiple ropes to the back of Yuna's throat, filling it entirely.

She tried to swallow everything, but it was too much cum, even for someone like Yuna, and she had no other option but to spit half of his seed onto her uniform. It created a large stain that would be pretty difficult to hide, but that was the last thing on Yuna's mind right now...

"Fuck, I didn't know you had so much cum."

"Yeah, well...black men always cum a lot, you should know."

"True, but I don't think the cum I've sucked out of black dicks so far compares to yours."

"Didn't you turn 18 like a month ago or something?"

"I did, but I've got some experience already...Ryujin unnie is teaching me the ropes."

Yuna's reply made his cock twitch, and it only got harder when Yuna stood up and turned around. She gave him a brief smile over her shoulder before bending over and sliding down her soaked panties.

She shook her butt a little bit, as if she was begging him to slide his dick inside her.

"Yuna, what the fuck...I...I can't. It's still sensitive."

"But it's hard, and I want it. Don't you wanna fuck my tight pussy with that big cock?"

"You are crazy..."

"Crazy for cock, yes. Now shut up and fuck me. And don't you dare pull out. I want you to cum inside me."

There was no chance in hell that he was going to give up on this offer, and so he placed his hands on Yuna's waist and started teasing her by rubbing his hard dick between her pussy lips.

"Don't tease me, please. Put that dick inside me and fuck me hard."

"I need that huge cock inside me right now."

Cock was what she craved, and cock was what she got when the guy slowly slid his entire length into Yuna's cunt. Yuna was extremely tight, which was always going to be the case given how young she was, however, luckily for him, she was indeed very wet, and with the blowjob from earlier, it made his cock slip in and out of her Korean pussy not as difficult of a task as one might think.

He pumped her at a steady pace, not slow or fast. All he wanted was to feel her walls and the way they hugged big black cock perfectly, as if Yuna was born to take such a huge dick (which she definitely was).

The longer he fucked her, the more Yuna begged him to go harder, and once he did, she started moaning loudly. His reactions were insanely fast, and he quickly put his right hand over her mouth, preventing Yuna from revealing their location to the one or two people still inside the school library at that time.

"Are you fucking crazy? Do you wanna get caught?" He asked, removing his hand so she could answer.

"Sorry...Fuckkk, I can't help it. It's too good. Your cock is just so fucking perfect...It's much bigger than any other black cock I've taken so far."

"And no...I don't wanna get caught. All I want is your cum, so please...give it to me."

"Pull my hair and pump me full of cum. I wannabe your BBC slut."

With his hand back over her mouth and now a grip on her hair, he began fucking Yuna hard and rough. Her moans might've been muffled, but anyone who would come close to their proximity, could 100% hear the sound of Yuna's cheeks getting absolutely clapped and pounded with immense force...he did not hold back, whatsoever.

At that time, the library was nothing more than Yuna's sex chamber...a place for her to be fucked and ruined by a fellow classmate that had a ridiculously huge black cock.

Yuna took his cock like a pro and let him use her as his personal toy. A few seconds of rubbing her clit after putting her hand between her legs was all it took to make her cum on his cock, and once she did, her legs almost gave up. In fact, if not for him or the table that she was currently being bent over, Yuna would've collapsed to the ground. Instead, she was able to just remain there and take his big black cock over and over and over again, with her pussy being stretched to the absolute limit.

With fear that someone else might hear him, he didn't tell Yuna that he was close and instead kept hammering away at her pussy. He fucked her balls deep, and after a couple of more minutes of using Yuna as his personal cumslut, he unloaded inside her just like she asked.

"Oh my god, fuckkkk. It's so warm...I can feel your cock throbbing inside my pussy."

"I can't believe I just fucked a K-Pop idol inside the school..."

"It definitely won't be the last time. I can guarantee you that." Yuna replied, as the guy pulled out his cock and watched as his cum slowly leaked out of Yuna's pussy and ran down her thighs before falling onto the floor.

And she was right...it wasn't the last time. For the entirety of the next week leading up to the final exam, Yuna and him fucked her all over the school, in the most hidden of spaces. She took his cock everywhere...in her mouth, in her pussy and she even let him have her ass. Yuna let him use her as his personal cumdispenser. All that Yuna could think about was him and his huge black cock, that it actually caused a huge problem for her...she didn't study. She actually didn't study...not one bit. Yuna was fucked, and not in the good way.

The final exam was a disaster for Yuna. For the next two days after the exam, she prayed that it was enough to pass. When the day of receiving her grade arrived, her professor waited for the very last minute of the class to hand out the results. He had the exams on a stack on top of his table and told everyone to grab theirs and leave his classroom. Yuna was the very last one to grab hers because she feared the worst, and her professor confirmed her fears before Yuna even had the chance to pick up her exam and look at her grade.

"Shin Yuna...what happened?"

"Professor...I don't know..."

"It pains me to do this to you...to end your career, just because of a test..."

"Please, don't do this...this can't get out...I need a passing grade, or else it's all over...my dream of becoming an idol will end." She said, walking over to his side of the desk with the most pleading face she could pull.

"Yuna...I can't do anything for you. My hands are tied. I'm sorry."

"You can't, but...maybe I can do something for you..." Yuna said, slowly reaching over to his crotch with her hand.

"Yuna, what are you doing? I can't do this."

"Your dick says otherwise." She replied, feeling his cock already getting hard.

"I can't do this...I can't risk my job."

"Nobody is going to find out. Everyone has already left."

"It's just me, you, and your big cock." She added, felling him getting harder and harder with each rub.

"Yuna...fuckkkk."

"No...fuck...shit...I can't do it. I'm married."

"Oh, come on...I see the way you look at me when I'm in class. I know you want to fuck me." She said, as she stopped working on his pants and moved behind him to give him a massage on his shoulders.

"I see the way you arrive every day...stressed. Is your wife not doing the job, Mr. Professor?"

"Is she not draining those balls properly?" She doubled down, whispering in his ear.

"Don't you wanna fuck a hot, popular K-Pop idol?"

"Yuna, please don't do this...I can't cheat on my wife. We've been married for over 30 years."

"We met in this exact school. We are high-school sweethearts. She's the only woman I have ever been with."

"Well, time to add another one to the list, then..." Yuna said, lifting her school uniform and briefly flashing him her tits.

"Yuna, what the fuck!"

"C'mon, touch them. I know you want to."

Her teacher was unable to take his eyes off her small breasts, but he remained professional, and didn't reach out for them. In the end, it didn't really matter, because Yuna reached out to grab his right arm and placed his hand directly on her tits, forcing him to feel them.

"Yuna!!!"

"Shhhhhhhhhh." She said, by pressing her finger to his lips, forcing him to stay quiet.

"Here is what's going to happen..."

"You are going to pull out your cock, and I'm gonna suck it like the good little slut that I am."

"Afterwards, I'm going to let you use me as your anal slut and you're going to pound the shit out of my asshole until you paint my insides."

"And in return for giving you the best sex you will ever have, I want you to change my grade to A+."

"Do we have a deal...daddy?"

A hard cock in his pants combined with a handful of her tits plus the dirty talk...Yuna knew she had him on the palm of his hands, and he knew that too. It was physically impossible for him to resist Yuna and the chance to fuck one of the hottest K-Pop idols of all time, even though she was still only 18 years of age.

After a brief moment of silence and consideration, only three words left his mouth.

"Lock the door."

"Victory." Yuna thought to herself.

With a smile on her face, she turned around and did what she was told. After locking the door, she walked over back to him. She tried to lean in and kiss him, but he had other plans.

He spun Yuna around and pushed her against his desk, bending her over at a 90º angle. Her head was pressed sideways against the cold steel table, and despite wanting and needing this to happen, this wasn't in her bingo card.

"What are you doing, daddy?"

"I'm going to teach you a lesson."

"A lesson of what happens when cute little girls like you decide to behave like naughty dirty sluts." He added.

"Hmmm, well, you are my teacher, so...teach me. Teach me what happens to dirty sluts like me."

"You wanna know what happens, Yuna? They get punished, and that is what I'm going to do to you...I'm going to punish you for being a dirty slut."

"Hmmmm, okay...I like the sound of that. How are you going to do that?"

Her question went unanswered, with the professor opting to remain silent and let his actions speak for themselves. He grabbed her mini skirt and pulled it down slowly, watching her supple and round butt appear from under it, only made bigger and more inviting by her perfect wide hips.

"Pfffff...of course you're not wearing any panties...fucking slut..."

Yuna just smiled and waited for her punishment. In that position, Yuna thought she was in for a nice hard spanking coming from her professor, and her thoughts were confirmed when she saw him reach for a large wooden ruler on his desk, right next to where she was bent over.

With the 18-year-old folded in half over his table and her bare butt sticking out, he raised his right arm and started giving her some nice hard slaps across her buttcheeks, as a nice warm-up for what was about to go down.

"Slap me harder, daddy. I've been such a naughty student."

"Yeah...you have. Why did you stop studding? Your grades have fallen off a cliff this past couple of weeks." He responded, not only with his words, but also with a hard smack across her ass, leaving his handprint on her cheek.

"Fuckkk...I was too busy sucking cocks left, right, and center."

"You will not make it in this industry, Yuna. One day, people will find out how much of a slut you really are, and your career will be over."

"I don't care about the future...I care about the present...the now."

"I love being a naughty, dirty, slutty, cock hungry bitch. I love sucking cocks and getting fucked by guys with big dicks."

"And right now...I want that. I want you to punish me until you deem me worthy of your huge cock, daddy."

Lust had taken over Yuna's mind, and for her, this was no longer about her grades or her future. The only thing Yuna cared about was getting fucked and used by her teacher. Yuna wanted him to dominate her, and that is what he did. He grabbed her arms and put them behind her back before taking a few steps back and admiring his work. Yuna...the 18-year-old K-Pop idol...Itzy's maknae...bent over his desk wearing nothing but the school uniform, with her holes exposed for him and him only. The grin on his face said it all, and he was ready to put Yuna in her place.

He put the ruler in his hands and gave her a swift but not too hard slap. Yuna let out a soft moan once she felt the large wooden object hit her skin, and she smiled every time he spanked her with the ruler.

"Hit me harder, c'mon. Make me your slut." She said, shaking her butt from side to side.

Her teasing only made his cock throb against his pants even more, and if Yuna wanted it harder, she was going to get it. The professor pulled his arm further than before and began hitting her with his ruler. Yuna's cheeks shook with each spank and she bit her lip hard. She was enjoying the constant stinging sensation on her buttcheeks, and the handprint that was previously on her ass had been replaced by numerous red marks. However, unsurprisingly, she wanted more.

For a horny slut like Yuna, being butt naked and bent over a table whilst getting spanked in a classroom inside the fucking school was just simply wasn't enough for her. As for her professor, it was dreamland. He had easily the hottest girl in the school, half naked in front of him. That alone in any other scenario would be enough to send any man into a euphoric state, but Yuna wasn't any other girl...

She was an 'It Girl' of the K-Pop industry. Yuna was already so famous that it was practically impossible to step foot outside without seeing her face on a big ass billboard. To have someone that famous...that talented...that rich, right in front of you and at your mercy...it's something capable of turning any man into a lust-frenzied animal, and in this case it was no different.

Her teacher kept unleashing a barrage of spanks on her ass, and those were always met with the same word.

"Harder!"

Yuna was a complete masochist, and he fucking loved that. At the start, he was a bit afraid of hitting her hard, but now he wasn't holding back anymore. With each slap, the ruler left a nasty red mark, and the sounds of it hitting her ass echoed inside the classroom.

"HARDER!"

Yuna wasn't the only one taking a beating, as all this spanking was absolutely draining his energy, and Yuna could feel that because of the longer time between each hit. He took a step back for a little bit of a breather and admired the damage that he had done. Yuna's cheeks were so red that it was as if she had decided to tan only that part of her body.

"Do you want to spank me some more, or do you want to put your hard dick inside my mouth and make me choke on it?"

"S-Shut up...shut up and spread that asshole for me, slut." He said in between heavy breaths.

Yuna didn't waste any time and put her fingers between her asscheeks. As soon as her fingertips made contact with her skin, she felt just how much pain she was really in. It was going to be a long time before she could sit her sweet ass on any surface...

She was still eager to comply, so she grabbed her asscheeks once again and spread them wide, to give him the perfect view of her tight little hole.

"Take a good look, daddy."

"That's what you will be pounding in just a few minutes."

"I can't wait to feel that hard cock filling me up and stretching me out."

"I bet your wife doesn't even take it up the ass, now does she?"

The bare mention of his wife turned all that lust into pure rage. He didn't want to be in this situation to begin with, but Yuna gave him no other option, with how naughty she behaved and talked. Without saying a single word, he grabbed her hands and put them on the table before taking a few steps back.

Yuna was completely unaware of what her teacher was going to do. Her head was pressed sideways against the table, and all she could do was wait in anticipation. The professor held the wooden ruler with both of his hands, as if he was holding a baseball bat or a katana and lifted it above his head before smashing it against her right cheek with all his strength.

"FUCK, OH MY FUCKING GOD, FUCKKKKKKK!!!!!" She cried out.

He used so much power that the ruler broke in half once it made contact with Yuna's ass. Even he was in shock once he saw one piece of the ruler flying across the room and the other one still in his hands. Yuna was in complete pain, and she definitely bit off more than she could chew. It was safe to say that she learned her lesson. She had spent so many moments inside that classroom over the years, and yet, despite all the pain she was in, this was still by far her favourite moment of being there.

A short moment of silence settled in the classroom, with them realizing that they had both crossed the line in their lust for each other. Yuna slowly turned around and looked him in the eyes, with a painful look on her face. As for him, he had mixed feelings all over the place. He had just smashed a wooden ruler against his student's ass so hard that it broke in half!!! And it wasn't just any student, no...it was Yuna. Someone who could easily buy his whole house. Someone who made more money in two years than him in his entire career as a teacher. And to add to that, he had his wife in the back of his mind. Technically, he wasn't cheating on her...he still hadn't had sex with Yuna. He could stop right here and walk away, but his cock had a mind of its own, and he knew he couldn't resist Itzy's maknae any longer.

"Are...are you ready for your reward?"

"Yes, daddy. I've never been more ready for cock in my whole life. I'm so wet for you."

"I'm going to suck your cock so good, that you won't be able to think of anyone else." She added.

Yuna was treading through dangerous waters. She made sure to avoid his trigger word, but he knew very well what she meant by that. He shot her an unpleasant look, before moving on.

"Good. Then get down on your knees and open your fucking mouth."

Despite his order, there was no chance in hell Yuna could sit with how sore her ass was, so instead she just squatted and unbuckled his pants before pulling them down. A wide smile appeared on her face once she was finally had his big cock in front of her.

Her hands immediately latched onto it, but swatted them away, which brought out Yuna's puppy eyes. It was if someone had just taken away her favourite toy.

She wasn't left sad for too long though, as he placed his hand on the top of her head and started slapping her face with his big dick. Yuna stuck her tongue out after the first couple of slaps and happily let him use her face for his pleasure.

Yuna loved feeling his ridiculously hard cock hitting her face and tongue, and he knew it. And despite knowing how much she was enjoying herself, he knew what she really wanted, and he decided to make her beg for it.

"Tell me what you want, Yuna. Say it."

"Please, daddy...push your cock down my throat."

"That's not good enough!" He replied, slamming his fist on the table.

"Put that big dick in my mouth and make me take it like the slut that I am. I know I can give head way better than your lame, ugly wife."

"Oh, shut the fuck up and take my cock, you fucking slut." He said, grabbing her hair and forcing his cock down Yuna's throat.

Yuna knew exactly how to trigger him, and she got what she wanted from him...his cock right into the back of her throat. No going slow...no time to adjust...none of that bullshit. Just straight up intense facefuck from the very start.

The professor held her head and kept pounding away at her face, fucking her throat without any mercy. Yuna's jaw was forced wide open, and she couldn't help but gag around his length each time it went down her throat.

Her mouth was filled with cock and she had drool all over her chin. Spit was constantly leaking out of the corners of Yuna's mouth, despite her having her lips wrapped tightly around his cock.

The only thing that could be heard inside the classroom was the sound of his balls slapping her chin and Yuna's gagging. Her throat was being demolished by her teacher's dick, and yet, she didn't want to have it any other way. He kept on using her as his personal fleshlight for a while longer, until he decided to stop his thrusts into the back of her throat. However, instead of pulling out, he remained balls deep inside her throat, taking on the view that he knew he would surely only see once in his life...

He admired the bulge of his cock in her neck and how pretty she looked with his dick stuffed down her throat.

"You look so beautiful with my dick in your mouth, you know that?"

Yuna smiled around his length, which made a lot of saliva escape her mouth and drip down her chin before it landed on her school uniform.

"So this is why you failed in the final exam, huh? Turned 18 and discovered your true passion...acting like a slut, sucking dicks, getting fucked and draining big cocks, huh?" He asked, letting his cock slip out of her mouth.

Before Yuna could even answer, he started slapping her a few times with his cock, just to make a complete mess of her face. Yuna smiled and let him rub is dick all over her lips as much as he wanted, before finally coming to a stop and letting Itzy's starlet answer his question. "I can't lie...my music career is no longer my number one priority."

"All I really want these days is a nice fat cock to play with and drain as much as I want." She said, opening her mouth for him to stick his shaft back inside.

He was slow this time, just enjoying the way her lips felt every time he slid his dick past them. Yuna hummed around his length and made sure to match his movements by slowly bobbing her head back and forth on his cock.

"You love that, don't you?"

"Yes, daddy. I love having dick in my mouth. I love sucking huge cocks like yours." She said, releasing him from her mouth.

"Then prove it. Show me how much you love this dick, Yuna."

His words had barely left his mouth, and Yuna already taking his cock inside hers. She started to bob her head up and down his cock rapidly, making loud slurping noises each time his dick went past her lips.

Yuna made sure not to leave an inch of his cock untouched. She ran her tongue all over his balls, coating them in her spit before popping them in her mouth and sucking on them, all whilst rapidly stroking his wet cock. She then licked the underside of his shaft all the way to the tip before pushing his cock back inside her mouth, where she immediately deepthroated his entire length over and over again, gagging and coughing all over it.

She kept was choking herself on his dick and her eyes became watery, but not once did she think about stopping or pulling away. Yuna's face was turning red with each passing second, but that wasn't going to stop her.

What did end up stopping Yuna was her insatiable thirst for having his cock deep inside her holes, and after a couple more deepthroats, she released him from her mouth with a loud pop before standing up and turning around.

"Are you ready to pound my asshole, daddy?" She asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Is that what you want, Yuna? To get fucked by your teacher?"

"Yes, I need it so badly! I want to be your naughty, slutty student, bent over your desk, waiting for her teacher's dick."

"I'm going to make you scream on my fucking cock." He whispered at her ear, before pushing her back down on the table, with her head against the cold steel surface.

Instead of going straight into the action, he decided to tease her just a little bit by running his finger up and down the length of her pussy lips. Yuna's juices were starting to drip down her legs, and her teacher used it to lube her asshole up, rubbing his fingers against her tight hole.

He then spat on his fingers and shoved three inside her asshole, basically giving her a signal that he wasn't here to play nice...Yuna was going to get it and she was going to get it hard.

Yuna let out a couple of moans once she felt his fingers enter her tight little bumhole. Her professor began pumping them in and out, stretching her as much as possible to prepare her for his big fat cock.

"You don't need to waste any time stretching me, daddy. I want your cock right now."

"I want you to break me in half, fill my tight little hole with your hot cum and claim my asshole for yourself."

Yuna's request was loud and obvious, and he was eager to give her what she wanted. He grabbed his cock and pressed it against her hole before slowly pushing his hips forward until his entire length was buried inside her tight butt.

"Oh god...fuckkkkk. That's just what I needed."

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head once she felt his whole shaft inside her, and once he slowly pulled back, Yuna knew it was about to go down.

The teacher thrust his hips inside her and began fucking her asshole. Not slow, not fast. Just the perfect pace, giving her the perfect amount of pain and pleasure without blowing his load so soon.

Her moans became slightly louder with each thrust, and they echoed inside the room. Yuna's breasts were pressed against the table, and her asscheeks jiggled every time his hips met hers.

It was practically heaven for Yuna, especially when she felt his balls slapping her pussy. The longer they went at it, the better and louder it got.

"Give me that cock. Just fuck me as hard as you can. I can take it, daddy."

"Who's a good slut for daddy's cock?" He asked, grabbing her hair with one hand and slapping her sore asscheeks with the other.

"I am, daddy! I'm your anal slut."

"I am nothing but a K-Pop idol that loves taking huge dicks up her ass!" She cried out, closing her eyes as he kept on pounding her tight hole.

Just like she had said it, Yuna was indeed his anal slut, and he loved it. Yuna's walls were squeezing him for all his worth, and he could feel the pressure building up. It was time to dump his thick load inside her asshole.

He held her hips tightly and increased his speed. If when he was spanking her earlier on, he made sure Yuna couldn't sit for a week, now he was making sure Yuna wouldn't be able to walk for a week. Yuna was being treated like an absolute fuckdoll, and she was moaning every step of the way. She curled her toes as she felt his cock splitting her open and stretching her butt, and it was becoming too much for her to handle, even for a total cumslut like Yuna.

"Oh, Yuna...I'm so fucking close."

"Fill my ass with cum, please."

His dick was going in and out of her ass as fast as he could, and with a young moaning mess like Yuna bent over in front of him, begging for cum, it was too much for him to handle and he ended up unloading a huge amount of cum inside the 18-year-old.

Almost immediately he slumped backwards, balancing himself on a student's table, and watched as Yuna remained in position, unable to move due to the pain.

"Ahhhhh, fuckkkk...daddy. So much fucking cum for me." She said, reaching for her ass and feeling the cum leak out from her butt.

She put a finger inside and collected some of his seed before bringing it to her mouth, where she unsurprisingly poured it on her tongue to taste it.

"Hmmmm...so warm and tasty. I could drink this all day long."

Tired and drained from this extracurricular activity, her teacher stood up and quickly picked up a pen before changing Yuna's exam grade.

"There, done. You got what you wanted. Now, please....leave my classroom."

"Oh, we are not done yet. I'm not leaving until I get my pussy fucked and my face covered in cum."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm not. Plus, I can see that your toy is still hard for me." Yuna said, making her teacher roll his eyes into the back of his head and sigh in disbelief.

"Don't you see how wet I am for you?" She added, grabbing his hand and making him touch her wet folds.

"You are fucking crazy, Yuna..."

Her teacher caved in and began voluntarily dipping his fingers inside Yuna's pussy as the two started making out with one another. The young starlet hummed into his mouth, and the older man explored the maknae's cunt. This lasted for a couple of minutes before Yuna's thirst for cock got the better of her.

"Your cock. My pussy. Now!"

"Is that what my cumslut princess wants?" He said, putting his thumb inside her mouth and making her suck on it.

Yuna shook her head up and down and slowly swirled her tongue around his finger. Her teacher smiled and told her to turn around and place her hands on the edge of his desk. The idol patiently awaited for his next move, and after a few seconds, she felt a pair of hands on her ass. It was still sore due to all the slapping that it had endured earlier on, and she let out a soft cry because of it.

Her whimper became a moan when the professor introduced his tongue inside her cunt and started lapping at her folds.

"Oh fuck, daddyyy, hmmm. Keep eating my pussy...just like that."

He feasted on Yuna's pussy like it was a goddamn buffet, constantly swirling his tongue inside it and tasting her juices before spitting in it. The deeper he shoved his tongue in Yuna's cunt, the louder she moaned. She shut her eyes and her mouth fell open as he kept working her over. The way he was going at it, it was only a matter of time before Yuna came, and she had zero intentions of letting that happen...the only way she was going to cum today, was with his cock buried in her young fertile pussy.

"I'm going to cum if you keep that up, daddy."

"And that's a bad thing because...?"

"I want you to do it with your cock, please."

"Fuck, you are such a greedy little cock slut." He said, standing up and slapping her ass one more time just for good measure.

Having sex with Yuna had drained so much energy from him, that he had to take a moment to grab a water bottle from his bag and take a sip, or else he might've had passed out inside her, not that Yuna would complain...she probably would've ridden his cock until he woke up a few hours later...

After several seconds, he made his way back to Yuna and grabbed her leg, putting it on top of the table. He had seen way too many fancams of her, so he knew she was flexible and could easily take his big white cock in this position. He grabbed his thick shaft and rubbed it all over her pussy lips, sliding it back and forth across her folds and coating it in her wetness, much to Yuna's annoyance, as she just wanted to get fucked hard and nothing else.

"What are you waiting for, daddy? Put it in and start fucking the shit out of me."

If it wasn't for Yuna begging for his cock like the absolute slut that she was, he swore that he could've spent hours just looking at Yuna in that position...a leg on the floor and another one on top of the desk, creating the most perfect 90º angle he had ever seen. Her holes were out and in full display, with some cum still dripping down her leg...she was impossible to resist.

Most people thought that Yuna was like the forbidden fruit...nobody could have her. Except, that very much wasn't the case. Any guy half decent looking and with a big cock could have a crack at her and her tight holes, and thankfully for her teacher, he was him.

After slapping her asscheeks with his hard shaft a couple more times, he pushed his cockhead past her cunt, and he watched how her tight teen pussy swallowed the entire length. Thankfully for him, it was no way near as tight as her ass, but even then, her pussy wasn't very far behind.

Yuna couldn't help but bite her lower lip as her teacher's cock stretched her walls out. She looked over her shoulder and watched him as he slowly began to pump his dick in and out of her tight pussy.

The face Yuna was making as she was getting her pussy pounded hard was so insanely sexy that he couldn't help but grab her hair and pull her in for a kiss. Yuna moaned into his mouth as he kept thrusting in and she couldn't wait for his second load of the day.

"Your pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock, Yuna."

He stopped kissing her and put a hand on the side of her neck to be able to watch her dead in the eyes. Yuna's mouth was wide open and her forehead was touching his. The two were so close to each other that the teacher could feel the heat irradiating from her body, but he wanted more. His hands moved to the bottom of her school uniform and he pulled it over her head, leaving Yuna only with her boots on.

Almost immediately, her breasts became the center of attention, as her professor couldn't keep his hands off them whilst he continued hammering away at Yuna's pussy. Her back was completely arched, and the position she found herself in was a testament to how insane her flexibility was. Yuna was made to be fucked...simple as that.

Everything about her was pornographic. Her gorgeous face, her insane body and her tight holes. She was perfect, from top to bottom, and she very much was a bottom. Yuna loved being a submissive slut for guys with big cocks, and with the constant pleasure of getting her pussy railed hard and fast by her teacher, combined with having his hands pinching her nipples, she couldn't hold any longer and came on his cock.

Her orgasm hit her so hard, that if it wasn't for him holding her in his arms, she would've fallen face first into his desk. Thankfully that didn't happen, and instead he kept fucking Yuna like there was no tomorrow, feeling his own orgasm approaching.

"You are such a fucking whore, you know that, right? Cumming on my cock like that."

"I know, daddy. I'm such a whore for big dicks. I love spreading my legs and letting guys use me however they like."

Her dirty talk was the final nail in the coffin, and he quickly pulled out and dragged Yuna onto her knees, where he started stroking his big dick and aiming it right at her face. Yuna wasted no time in sticking her tongue out whilst she rubbed her pussy like the good little slut that she was proud to be.

"Beg for it, Yuna. Tell me how much of a slut you are."

"I want your cum, daddy."

"I need you to cover my face with it and turn me into your personal cumdumpster."

He grinned from ear to ear and held her face close with one hand whilst he kept jerking off with the other until he finally shot his load all over Yuna's face, with some spurts going directly into her mouth. He took a few steps back and looked at the complete mess that he had done. Yuna's entire face was coated with his cum. Her cheeks, forehead, eyelids, nose, lips and even hair all had cum blasted on them.

Yuna giggled upon feeling so many warm spurts land on her face, and once she stopped feeling that pleasant sensation, she took his dick into her mouth to completely milk him dry out of every last drop.

Some of the cum on her face had started to drip down her chin and drop onto her tits when she released his girthy cock from her lips, and she wasted no time in collecting that same cum and pouring it in her mouth.

"Hmmm...just as tasty as the first time."

"Thank you so much, daddy."

"I love draining cocks dry, especially when they are massive like yours."

"The pleasure was all mine, Yuna...trust me."

Yuna smiled before standing up and picking up a tissue from her bag to clean up her face and try to be as presentable as one can be after being completely fucked for the past hour. As for her teacher, he put his clothes back on and watched the young starlet as she was fixing herself. Even though he looked at a naked Yuna dressing up, all he could think about was how on earth he had managed to have sex with an insanely hot and famous K-Pop idol, who practically threw herself at him.

"I should probably go." She said, grabbing her stuff.

"Hey, don't forget your exam...you deserve it, after...you know..."

"Thanks. I hope you had fun, daddy. And just remember...if you need your cock drained, or want me to be your little slutty student again, I'm all yours."

"My...my wife is out of town for the weekend, actually...if y-..."

"Say no more. I'm in!"

"Actually...I'm in as long as you promise me you'll fuck me where your wife sleeps."

"You fucking little slut....."

End of part 1

[neochan]

THE PROMISCUOUS TUTOR (M) | PART ONE

SERIES MASTERLIST LINK | remember this is part three and a half of a series! read part one & two for context!

PAIRING | tutor!jaemin x reader

SYNOPSIS |  na jaemin is too sexy to be holed up in the campus library, but once you catch wind of what he does between the shelves, you know it’s your time to see just how well his reputation proceeds him.

WC | 15.3k

WARNINGS | cursing, mentions of alcohol, sexual comments, vouyerism, explicit smut, choking, hair pulling, so sorry to the jaehyun stans this chapter :(, pink-haired jaemin. mc does some hoe shit idk.

A.N | tumblr is being stupid and won't let me put it all in one part, so i'm splitting it into two. the next part will be linked on the masterlist / uploaded in a few! please send asks after you finish reading. i want to hear your thoughts!

Typically, the University dining hall is one of the loudest places on campus at any given time.

However, you’re becoming increasingly aware of how eerily silent it is at the ass crack of dawn – and how unbelievably loud Jaemin is.

It’s one thing if he was whisper-yelling about midterms coming up, but the dude was dishing some very personal details while sifting through a pan of scrambled eggs. And there was no whispering.

None.

None at all.

Jaemin wanted to make sure you heard his frustration. So, loud and proud, with his entire chest, he piles a heaping serving of eggs on his plate while conversating at the top of his lungs.

“...then we flipped positions, but she got the angle wrong and bent my dick–”

Jaemin's voice carried across the dining hall, prompting you to offer an apologetic smile to the staff member stationed at the food line. However, he just yawns tiredly and turns around to continue flipping pancakes on the griddle.

They obviously didn’t get paid enough to care about Jaemin and his dick bending episode, so you moved along behind the boy, piling up your own plate with the dining halls incredibly mid breakfast.

“. . . and I didn’t even mean to fall asleep, but we went so many rounds I just closed my eyes for two seconds, next thing I know it’s five am and I wake up to Haechan calling me –”

The mention of his name makes your head snap up. “Haechan?”

Jaemin stops at the soda machine and pours a cool glass of Gatorade into a clear plastic cup. “Yeah, he was totally freaking out, wondering why I hadn’t come home.” He chuckles before moving on to find a table. You grab a water bottle and scurry to keep up. “Like I don’t disappear for pussy all the time.”

At this early hour, you could have had your choice of seats in the café, but in typical Jaemin fashion, he zeroed in on an elevated platform encircling the main dining area. It was a nice spot – next to a cluster of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the quad and few academic buildings. But again, at this hour, especially with it being a Sunday, there wasn’t much to look at. Just a few workers maintaining the lawn and a solitary squirrel.

It wasn’t like you were going to be staring out the window much though. His words had captured any wandering attention.

"...and he asked if I had heard from you, which is why I texted.” Jaemin scoops up a hearty forkful of scrambled eggs and eagerly pops it into his mouth, a mischievous grin forming on his lips.

The jolt of surprise that courses through your veins is unmistakably reflected in your expression. "Me? Why would he be asking about me?" you blurt out, your nerves getting the best of you.

Shit.

So Haechan had woken up and noticed your absence. A pang of guilt tightens your chest and makes you cringe on the inside. What a shitty thing to do. Take his virginity and then all but bail on him.

But he was cool with it being a one-time thing, you argue with yourself.

Jaemin interrupts your internal debate through a mouthful of pineapple, “I don’t know but he seemed kinda mad. You didn’t piss him off, did you?”

To avoid an immediate answer, you shove a forkful of syrup slathered pancakes into your mouth and chew slowly. When you swallow, it feels like a lump is stuck in your throat. But maybe that was just your guilty conscience trying to choke the life out of you.

“I don’t think I did anything.” You shrug, the words sounding less convincing than you’d hoped. A thought pops into your head, diverting the conversation momentarily, “Wait. You went home to shower, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

You lean in a bit, your tone hushed, “So… did you see him?”

Jaemin cards a hand through his faded pink hair and shakes his head, “I mean yeah, but he just said good morning and shut his door. I invited him to breakfast, but I don’t think he heard me.”

As his words sink in, a mix of relief and concern mingles within you. The last thing you needed was Haechan tagging along to a morning-after-breakfast. That would have made things mega awkward.

The boy you had just fucked and the boy you were wanting to fuck. Add in the fact that they had no idea you were even completing this stupid drunk-induced challenge…

Oh yeah, the challenge. Why the hell did it keep skipping your mind? Like it wasn’t the very thing that got you in this position.

Just the thought of it… well, it made your mind wander (as if it hadn’t been wandering this entire time). And somehow it landed on just how good Jaemin looked this morning. 

He obviously had the after-sex glow - his skin was looking smooth and radiant, eyes bright, and lips a subtle shade of darker pink. The thought of why they were puffy made your thighs quiver - and underneath the dining table, you have to squeeze them together just to breathe properly again.

Was it from Yeji biting them last night? Passionate kisses turning into something much more aggressive? Could it be from him pushing open her thighs and coaxing her through ecstasy with just his tongue? 

The vulgar thoughts circle your brain while you take in the rest of his sleepy, early morning outfit. A bright red hoodie hangs off his shoulders, covering any sort of muscle definition your eyes were itching to see. Not that it truly mattered – your memory was still pretty vivid from the party two nights ago. However, that night, your focus had been solely on Hyuck, which now seemed like an unfortunate missed opportunity.

Especially when he gets up to dump his plate in the dirty dish bin, and your eyes follow his tight cargo pants. What exactly was hiding beneath the black fabric? 

Technically, you already knew thanks to the video he shared the night all this challenge stuff was created.

But a little reminder couldn’t hurt.

Jaemin returns to the table with a fresh glass of blue Gatorade, and when he sits down, his eyes wash over your body like he was mirroring what you were just doing. Did he catch you? Is that why he did that?

He doesn’t give any hints. Just raises an eyebrow playfully, the rim of his cup poised between his lips. "I know you were avoiding the question, but why are you up this early?" he teases, his voice a blend of curiosity and amusement.

A chuckle escapes your lips as you spear a piece of fruit with your fork. It was good to think quick in these situations, but the answer that comes out of your mouth might have been the stupidest thing you’d ever said, "I was planning to go on a run."

You don’t run. Especially not on a Sunday morning.

His lips curl into a mischievous smile, his gaze dancing with a hint of skepticism. "But your hair is wet."

Glancing down at your slightly damp hair, you feel a blush tint your cheeks. You hadn’t even realized. After your dizzying thoughts of Jaemin in the shower, you had been so excited to meet him for breakfast that you forgot to blow dry your hair, "Yeah, I showered."

Jaemin leans forward, his expression mockingly serious. "Before the run?"

Your laughter bubbles forth, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. "Well, you wanted to grab breakfast, so I thought I’d take a quick shower.”

A grin tugs at Jaemin's lips, his intrigue growing. "But you're a night showerer."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you respond, "Is this a full-scale investigation now? Am I on trial?"

Jaemin breaks into hearty laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Just trying to solve the mysteries of the morning, you know."

Relief stretched through your body like an adrenaline chaser. “Well, I hate to disappoint Mr. Detective, but there’s no mystery here. I just got up early and was gonna hit the gym, but you texted me first.” You put the fruit back onto your plate, too worked up to take a bite, “Next time, I’ll ignore your text.”

“Hey!” he frowns.

“Kidding.” You remark, “But I think I’ll skip the gym instead and take a nap. I’m not used to waking up this early…”

“Just make sure you’re at the library by one. Would hate to miss your free tutoring session.” He pushes back from the table, and you do the same, gathering all your half-eaten dishes from the world’s fastest breakfast date.

“Do you want me to pay you? I have no problems giving you cash.”

“Nah, I like helping out a friend.” He bumps your elbow as you walk down the ramp to the main dining floor. The surge of electricity that snaps through your body takes you by surprise. Maybe this breakfast was a little higher tension than you were aware of.

You drop all your dishes into the dirty dish bin and walk side by side with Jaemin out on the quad. There was still no one in sight, even as the sun started to bloom full light over the bright green shrubbery.

“Don’t say I never offered to pay.”  You giggle.

“Nah, don’t worry. If I wanted something in return, it wouldn’t be money.” He just stares at you, a deadpan look with no emotion.

You, on the other hand, have many emotions crossing your face – shock, disbelief, curiosity, intrigue.

“I’m kidding.” He snorts.

You stumble over your words, “Y-Yeah, duh.”

“Alright, I’ll catch you at one. Don’t be late!” He reminds, walking backwards as he wiggles a warning finger at you. He spins around, almost tripping over a loose brick on the pathway in the process.

As he retreats into the backdrop of trees, headed back to the boy's dormitory on the far side of campus, you find yourself wishing to follow. Maybe you could catch some sleep in his bed, enveloped by the sweet smell of Jaemin (that being hair dye and Dior Savauge).

Instead, you begrudgingly drag your feet in the opposite direction. Back to your lonely dorm where you would fall asleep in an empty bed that smelled like nothing but yourself.

“We’ve wanted this for a while.”

Haechan looks up at you from between your legs and licks his puffy lips. His finger draws lazy circles around your clit, and it feels wonderful.

You could watch him like this forever, but what drags your attention away is the second set of lips attaching to your neck. Nothing had warned you of his presence before, but now you were on full alert. He sucks bruises against your skin, hands running up and down your body until you were left shaking into his touch.

“Jaemin?”

The pink haired boy draws back and sits on his heels, a goofy grin spread out.

“Yes princess?”

Your head is on a swivel now. From Haechan’s chocolate brown eyes and mischievous smirk to the way Jaemin was eyeing your exposed chest.

“You okay sweetheart?” Jaemin takes a singular finger and tips your chin upwards, “How about you just lay back and let us take care of you.”

Haechan speaks up, “Tell us which one makes you cum harder, okay?” Two fingers pinch your clit, making you jerk against Jaemin, “Like a bet.”

Like a bet.

Like a bet.

In the hazy realm between dreams and reality, your eyes flutter open, greeted by the harsh reality of full sunlight streaming through the curtains. Panic instantly surges through you as you glance at the clock – it's later than it should be. With a sudden jolt, you sit up, your mind racing to comprehend.

The realization hits like a tidal wave: you're late for your tutoring session with Jaemin. You fumble with the sheets, untangling yourself in a hurry, and your heart pounds with each passing second. Your phone, lying neglected on the nightstand, taunts you with its unmissed alarms.

“Oh fuck.”

The room spins with the remnants of the vivid dream. Jaemin and Haechan... at the same time. Jaemin’s arms around you, Haechan between your thighs. The wetness there now seems unavoidable, but there was no time.

Your phone lights up with another text from Jaemin. Grabbing it, you hastily read through.

(1:01 PM) Manwhore: yo, you on ur way?

(1:04 PM) Manwhore: helloooo?

(1:07 PM) Manwhore: don’t tell me you forgot

(1:08 PM) Manwhore: if you don’t text me back or get here in the next five minutes, I’m literally going to fuck your roommate again.

Wish you would fuck me as a punishment, you think, but type out a different response.

(1:09 PM) Y/N: you’d fuck her anyway.

(1:09 PM) Y/N: I overslept. Be there in five.

Another glance over your messages and you realize the same roommate he was threatening to fuck has also been bombarding you with a flurry of messages.

(10:01 AM) Roomie!!: I feel like I never see you

(10:52 AM) Roomie!!: I wanted to wake you up but you weren’t here literally all night…

(11:09 AM) Roomie!!: I left you a muffin on the counter <3

(12:36 PM) Roomie!!: Can we please talk tonight? Or hangout? Or go to the movies? Literally anything??? I miss you!

You shoot her a quick message, saying sorry and promising to catch up with her tonight. Man, you've really missed her. There's this itch to spill everything, spill the beans about the stupid bet, but at the same time, you're not sure if you should. It's like walking on eggshells, ya know?

One thing was apparent though. She could never know about these filthy dreams. How desperate you were to be underneath your best friends…that was a secret you must keep.

Speaking of best friends, you had one waiting impatiently at the library for you to hurry the fuck up. No matter if you were just dreaming about him sucking on your neck.

You snatch the nearest clothes and quickly slide on your shoes in a rush. Carelessly, you throw textbooks into your backpack. Grabbing the muffin Jennie left for you on the counter, you swing your backpack over your shoulder and scramble out the door.

“Stupid fucking stairs” you mutter underneath your breath, hurtling down all five flights in a rush.

“What did the stairs ever do to you.” The voice startles you, nearly causing you to trip.

“What the hell, Haechan.” Great, the other half of your dream has just materialized. “What are you doing in the girls dorm.”

He grins, keeping pace with you down the flights. “Visiting a lady friend.”

“Truth. Now.”

He sighs, “Group project.”

“Sounds about right.” You reach the bottom of the staircase and push open the door that spills out onto the quad.

The fleeting thought of sprinting away crosses your mind, but you dismiss it. Instead, you glance over your shoulder, watching him struggle with his backpack straps. His hair is a fluffy brown mess, wind tousling it. A faded graphic design t-shirt hangs off his collarbones, with matching sweatpants that seem two sizes too big.

He's such a loser, you think affectionately.

“So…” He muses, catching up to you and bumping your arm with his elbow, “Why’d you dip this morning?” There’s a tinge of hurt in the question but you choose to ignore it.

You shrug, “Met up with Jaemin for breakfast…you were sleeping so I didn’t want to bother you.”

The campus has come alive since your last outing. Students lounge on the quad, soaking in the dwindling sunlight before fall strips away the warmth. You wish you could join them and forget about your trivial problems.

"Weird. Because he invited me too," he keeps his head down, focusing on his worn-out sneakers navigating the uneven brick paving the campus.

“He told me.” You don’t know what Haechan was getting at. Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have dipped, but…what else were you supposed to do?

“Surprised your legs are working.”

“Haechan.” You shriek, slapping his shoulder. Where the hell did that come from.

He laughs loudly, “I’m just saying. Maybe that’s why you were so mad at the stairs. Hurt a bit?” Yeah, he was feeling cocky. Confident. Cause here was this beautiful girl next to him, who just so happened to be his best friend, and who also sat on his cock last night. He felt on top of the world.

“I’m fine.” You seethe, “And just so we’re clear, we aren’t telling anyone about this.”

Bummer. He rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I know. You want to keep the best sex of your life a secret. No sweat.”

“I swear to god Haechan –”

“Oh, calm down princess. I’m not gonna tell anyone. Our little secret.” He winks at you and a hot blush spreads over your cheeks.

Fuck him and fuck his stupid pet names.

“Round two?” He braces for the swat that comes his way, another laugh slipping past his lips, “Okay, okay. I’ll stop joking around.”

You want to feel annoyed, but you're just glad to have your best friend back—the one who makes inappropriate jokes at your expense. Maybe that's greedy of you, expecting everything to go back to normal after taking his virginity.

But it’s what he wanted…. So get over it Y/N, you think.

Round two didn’t sound so bad though…especially after that stupid fucking dream you just had.

“Where you headed?” he asks, pulling on the straps of his backpack.

“Library. Jaemin’s tutoring me. And I’m late.” You reply. He was really gonna kick your ass if you didn’t hurry up.

“How great. I’m on my way there too. Gotta finish this stupid presentation.”

You glance at him, catching his face scrunch up.

“Got something else you want to say?” you question. It looked like he was physically in pain. Yet, knowing him, he was just holding himself back from saying something inappropriate.

“Promise not to hit me.”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Well…I was just gonna say, if you want help relaxing after the draining tutoring session you’re about to have…”

Bingo. You knew him soooo well.

“You’re impossible Haechan.”

“One of my redeeming qualities I must say.”

The library comes into view. Fucking finally. It felt like ages since you left your dorm.

You decide to snark back at him. “You know…on second thought.” It almost makes you feel bad the way his eyes spark up, “I would but, I got plans…”

His response is firm and unwavering. "Cancel them."

Locking eyes with him proves to be a mistake as you realize he's dead serious. "Can't, sorry," you pout.

He strides ahead, swinging open the library door with a grand gesture. You roll your eyes, heading straight for the back wall where the individual study rooms are located.

"Y/n," he whispers, silently urging you to reconsider. "Think about it."

Ignoring him, your attention is diverted when you spot Jaemin, who also catches sight of you through the glass separating the main floor from the study rooms. He rolls his eyes and taps his wrist as a mock reminder of your tardiness.

"Y/n," Haechan whines, a plea echoing the same tone as the night before.

Choosing to play with him once more, you tease, "Sorry, Haechannie. Plans, remember?" Leaning in, you cup his ear and blow a cool breath, feeling him shiver. "But you can think about me when you jerk off later."

He watches in shock as you saunter away, pushing open the study room door to apologize profusely to Jaemin. The bulge in Haechan's pants goes unnoticed until he tears his eyes away. "God damn."

Na Jaemin is disgustingly attractive.

And so, so distracting.

How were you supposed to study binomial distributions when he sat on the opposite side of the table looking like that. 

The red hoodie he had on this morning has been discarded, replaced by a t-shirt with rolled-up sleeves that showcased his toned biceps. As he shifted around the scattered textbooks, his tongue peeked out between his lips in concentration.

Jaemin’s presence plus the constant remembrance of the dream only amplified your struggle to stay focused.

Instead, your (lovely) brain decided to entertain you with intense fantasies of clawing at his biceps while you rode him. You’re sure he’s a groaner. It’s almost visual in your head, the way he’d tip his head back and growl at the feeling of you splitting yourself on his cock. You know he talks you through it too.

“Got any guesses on the size?”

"W-What?" You stammer, a twinge of anxiety hitting you, concerned you might have been caught daydreaming.

Jaemin cards a hand through his hair and smirks, “The sample size, y/n? Have you not been paying attention for the last twenty minutes?? We’re trying to solve for the sample size.” He blows air through his teeth in annoyance, “I swear it feels like I’m just doing your homework for you sometimes.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired.” You mutter, “How about I do the next five by myself and have you check over them after?”

"Sounds good. Don't hesitate to ask if you have any questions," he responds casually, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning his attention back to his own work.

It annoyed you how smart he was too. And he rarely got distracted when he was studying. It’s like he gets automatically switched to hyperfocus mode. Nothing breaks his concentration. It’s such a weird version of Jaemin, but one that you’ve grown accustomed too during the study sessions. Any other time of day and he’s chatting up girls and doing stupid dares that normally got him in trouble with the campus police. It’s happened too many times to count.

The gods favor him, you think, beauty and brains.

Your gaze inadvertently shifts to the main floor of the library. Through the transparent walls, you see Haechan sitting at his own table. He looked bored, his lips set in a pout and a crease drawn between his eyebrows. Bored and frustrated. But he also looked good as hell.

He pushes his hips up to get comfortable in the hard plastic chair he was in, and the grey sweatpants do nothing to hide the painfully obvious outline of his cock. Arousal bells start going off in your head, and you think you might just faint out of pure horniness.

You watch him pick up his phone.

A buzz sounds on the table, coming from your own phone.

(1:51 PM) Weird guy from the street: stop staring at me

There’s literally no way he could have known you were looking at him unless he had been sneaking glances at you too. The thought makes you blush.

(1:51 PM) Y/N: not staring at u weirdo

(1:52 PM) Y/N: simply looking through the window

(1:52 PM) Y/N: not my fault ur big ass head is blocking the view

You peak at him, and this time he’s looking dead at you with a big frown on his face.

(1:52 PM) Weird guy from the street: okay ouch

(1:53 PM) Weird guy from the street: but ur eyes r literally burning holes in me

(1:53 PM) Weird guy from the street: if you wanna fuck so bad, just meet me upstairs :)

A snort sounds at the back of your throat, catching Jaemin's attention as he glances up from his textbook.

"Just searching for the equation I need," you confess sheepishly, raising your phone in explanation.

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything, so you go back to texting.

(1:54 PM) Y/N: u wish loser

From the other side of the glass, you watch him throw you a middle finger.

(1:54 PM) Weird guy from the street: okay but seriously meet me upstairs

(1:54 PM) Weird guy from the street: it’s SERIOUS!!!

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: i promise 

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: swear on jeno’s hockey career

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: don’t tell him i swore on that or he’ll kick my ass again

(1:55 PM) Weird guy from the street: just meet in the geology section.. never seen anybody up there

You send a final text

(1:56 PM) Y/N: fine, but if this is a trick, i’m kicking your ass.

Your chair emits a loud scraping sound as you push it back to stand up. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom before my brain explodes. Be right back.” You explain, and Jaemin nods.

The echo of your footsteps resonates through the quiet library as you navigate your way to the geology section. The fluorescent lights above flicker intermittently, casting occasional shadows that dance along the bookshelves. You can't help but wonder why Haechan chose such a weird ass place to meet.

Decorative rocks are showcased throughout this section of the library, and in the back of your mind you wonder who in their right mind would study geology. Rocks?

“Took you long enough.” Haechan teases, emerging from the shadows between two bookshelves. You squint at him, your eyes still adjusting to the unexpected appearance.

"Why do you have to be so extra?" you quip, recovering from the surprise. It's the second time today he's managed to catch you off guard.

"Extra is my middle name, darling," he grins, leaning casually against the shelves. You secretly wish they would give in and collapse just for the sake of a good laugh.

"Cut the dramatics, Haechan. Why am I here?" you demand, crossing your arms.

"I want to know what you’re doing with Jaemin," he deadpans, peering up through his long lashes. "Because for the past thirty minutes or so, you've been practically drooling over him." He checks his wrist adorned with a silver watch you gifted him last Christmas, "And I've been keeping track, by the way. Don't bother denying it; I've got eyes everywhere."

You roll your eyes, annoyance creeping in. "That's bordering on stalker behavior, you know."

He casually shrugs, unfazed. "Answer the question."

"I'm studying with Jaemin. What else would I be doing?" you retort, finding the situation utterly ridiculous.

"Sure, you're not one of his study buddies?" Haechan drawls, dragging out the second-to-last word and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You resist the urge to roll your eyes again, realizing you've walked right into his stupid trap.

You glare pointedly. “Just because you caught me looking at another man that isn’t you doesn’t mean I want to fuck him.”

“Oh sweetheart, I didn’t say anything about fucking him.” Haechan replies with a sly grin.

“You implied it!” You huff, jabbing him in the chest with a manicured finger.

He clutches the spot and winces at pain. “Damn your nails are sharp.”

“Why am I really up here.” You were becoming impatient. Perhaps you should have known that Haechan would waste your time. There was nothing of importance for you between these stupid, dusty, rock filled shelved.

A part of you did know it, though. And that part was practically begging Haechan to shove you against the shelves and start fucking your brains out.

You squash that part down. Deep down.

Haechan sighs and takes a tentative step backwards, “Honestly, I was bored and just wanted to mess with you.” You open your mouth to chastise him, but he cuts you off before you can, “But now that we’re on the topic of fucking Jaemin –”

“Don’t think we’re on the same topic here.” You interject.

He keeps going without missing a beat, “I just thought you should know about his....habits” His face beams in pride, as if this super-secret tidbit of information could solve world hunger.

"His habits?"

Haechan takes a step towards you, "Yeah...his dirty, filthy habits."

"What are you getting at Haechan?"

The boy in front of you, eyes you up and down before speaking slowly, "You're telling me you don't know?"

You narrow your eyes at Haechan, feeling a mix of confusion and suspicion. "Know what exactly? Stop beating around the bush and just spit it out."

Haechan smirks, relishing the moment. "I just thought you should know that he fucks girls here after hours."

“In the geology section?” You question, skepticism etching your features.

“In the library dumbass.” Haechan retorts, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. His eyes lock onto yours, daring you to challenge him.

“Yeah right.”

He stomps his foot in a childlike manner. “I’m serious.”

Your disbelief lingers. "I don't believe you. It's literally patrolled by security after hours," you assert, your arms crossing defensively over your chest.

Haechan rolls his eyes, seemingly accustomed to your skepticism. "Y/n, me and Jeno used to think Jaemin was rocking your shit back when he started tutoring you."

A wry smile creeps onto your face. "How lovely."

“I mean, now we know you just need help with stats –”

“It’s a hard subject.” You defend yourself.

Sure, you’d never been good at math like others, but statistics was a hard class. And your professor made it even more boring with her monotoned voice.

“I know, cheated my way through an A.” Haechan admits, flashing a beaming smile. “Anyways, he has an entire roster of girls he brings to the library after hours. Honestly, you’re the only girl I’ve seen him actually tutor.” The soft glow of the library lights casts a warm hue on the leather-bound volumes that surround you and you notice it illuminates the curve of Haechan’s jaw too.

“Haechan, I swear if this is a prank or a set up.”

He gives another stomp to the worn-out carpet, "Why would I be lying about this?" he insists, his expression genuinely serious. "You know what, meet me here Friday night at nine thirty."

“The library closes at eight.”

“Back entrance is always open.” He winks at you, and you playfully swat his arm. “Gonna prove that I’m not lying.”

“Whatever.”

You find yourself baffled by Haechan's sudden revelation about Jaemin's supposed "dirty habits." There's a lingering question in your mind – why is Haechan even sharing this information with you in the first place? As the absurdity of the situation sinks in, you can't help but wonder what prompted him to bring you to this secluded spot just to share peculiar details about Jaemin's life.

Is he threatened by your sudden interest - if he really was catching on to the fact that you were after Jaemin.

A few beats pass before he’s nudging your shoulder. “So?” He jostles your arm with his own until you swat at him again, “You’ll meet me here?”

“Sure, Haechan.” In truth, you had nothing better to do. And maybe you could use this to your advantage. The next part of this stupid challenge was to fuck Jaemin anyways, and what better way than to use his rendezvous spot to do so.

If Haechan was telling the truth.

“We should make out.”

You slide your eyes to his and cock your head, “In your dreams Hyuckie.”

The day was winding down, and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the university campus. You trudged back to your dorm, feeling the exhaustion from a day filled with studying and more homework than you could manage.

Echoes of distant laughter and the occasional sound of a slamming door fill the hallways as you climbed the stairs to your floor, anticipation building to catch up with your roommate, Jennie.

You didn’t mean to completely ghost her the last couple weeks, but between classes and the challenge…well, you had your mind full.

The door is swinging open before you can get your key in the lock, and you’re met face to face with her.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up! I swear I never see you anymore. You leave before I’m up and come home after I’m asleep!"

Apologizing, you step inside and close the door behind you, embracing your roommate. "I know, I know. It's been crazy lately," you admit, setting your bag down and following her to the living room.

Jennie raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me." she teased.

"Never.” It’s true. Jennie was the one person in the world who you could relax around. “So, what’s been up with you.”

She sighed dramatically, as if she'd been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and plops down on the couch. You do the same. “Sorority stuff, you know how it is. Rush week is killing me. Drama, drama, drama. Oh, and did I mention Jaehyun broke up with his girlfriend? The whole campus is losing its mind over him, including maybe me," she added with a sly grin.

Your eyes widen at the news. "Jaehyun broke up with his girlfriend? That's big news! Why did they break up?" you inquired, curious about someone else’s drama.

Maybe it could distract you from your own.

Jennie leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "No one knows for sure, but there are rumors. Apparently, she cheated on him.”

“Why on earth would she cheat on him?”

She giggles, “That’s what I’m saying! He’s like the hottest guy on campus. She’s definitely mental if she cheated on him. If he was mine…”

“Make him yours.”

“Y/N!” she giggles and playfully shoves your arm.

You break out in a smile too, “Well, if he is single, now’s your chance!”

Jennie shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Who knows?” She tugs a blanket off the back of the couch and wraps it around her thin body, “Anyways, enough about me. What’s been keeping you so busy? You haven't even had time for Mark. He's been asking about you by the way."

You sighed, feeling guilty for neglecting your friends. "Classes have been crazy, and Jaemin and I have been hitting the books together. Speaking of which, he's been a lifesaver. I wouldn't survive this semester without him."

Jennie smirked playfully. "Oh, Jaemin, huh? Is there something I should know?"

You rolled your eyes, swatting her arm this time. "No, nothing like that. He's just a great study partner."

She raised an eyebrow, a knowing expression on her face. "Sure, just a study partner?”

It funny how fast you break into a cold sweat.

“W-What do you mean?”

“I mean..” She drags the words out and for a second you think she’s gonna accuse you of sleeping with him. Or at least accuse you of having the hots for him. “I’ve studied with him. So, I know that studying doesn’t always mean studying.”

“Oh my god. You think I’m fucking him?”

I haven’t yet, you think.

“I’m just asking!”

“No, I promise he’s just helping me with stats homework.” You hold up two fingers, “Scouts honor.”

She rolls her eyes, “Look, I wouldn't blame you if you were sleeping with him. Been there done that.”

You wonder if she’s one of the girls Haechan seemed so sure Jaemin fucked in the library after hours. It’s not like you would ever ask her. But your mind wanders nonetheless.

“Trust me, I’m not.”

“Maybe you should.” She suggests in thought, “I mean he definitely knows his way around a girls body.”

You cover your eyes in embarrassment, “Oh my god, gross!”

She holds up her hands like she’d been caught, “I think you need to let loose. Just giving you a recommendation.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Speaking of letting loose, I have a sorority event this Friday, and I want you to come. It's a big reveal for my little, and I want you there."

You hesitate. "I appreciate the invite, but I'm actually hanging out with Haechan that night."

There’s a part of you that wants to add the fact that you’re really just trying to catch Jaemin in the act of fucking in the library. But with the way the conversation just went…maybe that was best kept to yourself.

Jennie's expression shifted from excitement to a subtle disappointment. "Come on! I never see you anymore. Can't you ditch Haechan for one night? It'll be a blast, and you'll get to meet some great people. Plus, you need a break from that annoying prick."

You forget that Jennie doesn’t like Haechan, recalling drunken nights where she spent hours cursing him out for embarrassing her during her own rush experience. Apparently, he was her date and got too drunk which ended in him throwing up all over her dress. It’s a miracle she got a bid for the house she wanted.

Feeling a bit guilty, you sighed. "Alright, fine. I'll come. But only because you're my best friend, and I miss spending time with you."

Jennie's face lit up, and she practically squealed in delight. "Yes! It's going to be so much fun. You won't regret it."

The night stretched on with the two of you quickly settling into the cozy routine of a girls’ night in. You ordered some delicious takeout, stocked up on snacks, and found yourselves comfortably sprawled on the couch with episodes of Love Island playing on the tv. Fairy lights twinkled over your entangled figures as you both became engrossed in the latest romantic drama on the screen.

It was a nice reprieve from the boys you’d been constantly drowning around.

But watching the couple on screen makes your mind drift to thoughts of Jaemin. His body caging you against the wall of a study room, eventually laying you back on the table scattered with textbooks and eating you out. His pink hair caught between your fingers…

The thoughts worm their way into your dreams when you and Jennie eventually drift off to sleep, curled on the couch, not wanting the night to end.

Aside from the frat parties, drunken nights, and time well spent with friends, college was actually very fucking boring.

The week breezes by with boring lectures, hastily eaten lunches, and so much damn homework that you genuinely begin to think you’re drowning. You almost turn in a quiz too late on Monday and decide from then on that you’d lock yourself away till your schedule looked a little less hectic.

And that led to a very boring and very sleepy Friday.

The lecture hall was dimly lit, and the professor's monotone voice droned on about the intricacies of music theory. You were struggling to keep your eyes open, staring blankly at the notes you'd given up on comprehending. The only thing getting you through this intolerable day was the weekend ahead (Even though you had to meet Mark on Saturday for a stupid group project), and the coffee you had gotten with Jennie that morning.

She made sure to dutifully remind you of her sorority event that night, which in turn reminded you of your library date with Hyuck.

Like you could forget.

After that, and your morning stats class (where you promptly took a little nap despite your determination to genuinely understand the subject), you met up with Jeno for lunch. It wasn’t so bad, until Jaehyun crashed at the table and stole Jeno’s attention to talk about hockey plays for their game on Sunday.

Awkwardly trying to avoid him and the rumors that were spreading on campus (and because you had no idea what a bar down or hat-trick was), you promptly left and got to your music theory lecture early.

Which at this moment felt like a place where pretty things came to die.

You couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh. The boredom was reaching unbearable levels, and you questioned your life choices that led you to enroll in this class. It’s not like you needed it to graduate. The spot was simply open, and you needed another class.

Just as you were contemplating an escape plan, the door swung open with a loud bang.

Mark rushed in, disheveled and panting. Everyone turned to stare at him, including you. He apologized to the professor, who simply gestured for him to take a seat. You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the sight.

Mark Lee was…a character. You met him through Hyuck, who introduced him as the love of his life. Mark had grinned awkwardly and shuffled away from Haechan’s body after that comment, instead choosing to question you about your major and interests. It was then that you both became friends too. Albeit, casual friends. (Except for the one time freshman year that you had hooked up in the science building bathroom)

He was there to gossip with, grab lunch, and aid you through music theory (which you didn’t know a damn thing about). He was exceptionally talented and hardworking, show cased through his double major in theology and music theory. A weird combination, but after getting to know his religious background and affinity for guitar playing, you thought it was perfectly spot on for him.

Like Jaemin, he dyed his hair bright ass colors whenever he was on the verge of a breakdown. This weeks’ color was black with silver sideburns. Somehow, he pulls it off quite well.

"What's up?" you whispered to Mark as he settled into the chair beside you.

He looked worn out. It was barely one pm, but the ruffled hair, wrinkled clothes, and half on-half off jacket, makes him look like he’d been hit by a tornado on his way to class.

His mouth is set in a flat line when he glances over at you, “Hyuck, is what’s up.”

“Hyuck?”

The professor sends a pointed glare at the two of you, and mark smiles sheepishly before leaning in to tell you the rest, his voice hushed, “Yeah. Went over to his dorm to grab my notebook that I left last night, and the dumbass was wasted.”

“Like, drunk?” you question, because as you recall, it was barely one pm.

“Drunk as fuck.” Mark deadpans.

Your eyebrows shoot up, “It’s the middle of the day?”

“Yeah, I told him that many, many times.” Mark digs around his backpack, trying to find a pencil to catch up on the lecture he missed, “All he kept doing was stumbling around, asking for cheesecake–”

When you open your mouth to question it, Mark cuts you off.

“I don’t really know why.” When he finds the pencil at the bottom of his bag, he snorts in triumph and continues, “So he kept asking for cheesecake, started bawling when I told him there was none, and finally, when I wrestled him into his bed, he started telling me about you.”

Your body freezes impossibly fast, gaze nervously darting around the room. Maybe if you didn’t look Mark in the eyes, then you could forget what he said and pretend that the words never left his mouth.

No, of course not. Time to bite the bullet.

“Me?” You squeak.

“He told me a lot about you actually.” The way Mark is looking, his arms crossed and an expression that can only be described as accusatory, can mean only one thing.

“He told you about…”

You want to leave the lecture hall and punch Lee Donghyuck yourself when mark responds.

“Yep.”

“Fuck.” You should have known Hyuck couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “What did he say.”

It was Marks turn to glance around the room, just in case anyone was listening in. When all is clear, his voice drops even lower, “He said you guys fucked after Jaehyuns party. And that it was the best sex of his life – well, the only sex of his life. Was he telling the truth?”

Now’s your chance to lie and set the record straight that you never slept with Haechan. Though, with Mark’s tone, you already knew that he knew the right answer.

“Yeah…We did, but it was just a convenience thing. He happened to be at the right place, at the right time. It was nothing more than that.”

Oh, how you wished those words were true.

It would severely less-complicate things.

Mark chuckles nervously, “I’d avoid him if I were you. Because dude, it was so much more than that to him.”

Your biggest fear is confirmed with his words. How dumb could you be to think that taking his virginity wouldn’t lead to him having some weird clingy attitude towards you. You should have known better.

“I can’t avoid him. I have to meet with him tonight.” You hiss.

Mark shrugs, “I don’t know if he’ll even be awake, dude passed out hard. I mean, I set his alarms, so who knows.”

“Maybe…”

“Anyways, dude – OW!”

A flying drumstick clips Mark in the head, and he hurriedly rubs the spot, wincing. The professor, arms crossed, looks at the both of you in displeasure.

Bursting into a fit of giggles, you realize that this day was definitely not going to be boring anymore.

As you sit in your cozy apartment engrossed in a book, your phone buzzes, pulling you out of the fictional world. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Hyuck.

(8:52 PM) Weird guy from the street: can you come open the door

(8:52 PM) Weird guy from the street: my key isn’t working for some reason

Your eyebrows furrow as you read the message "Key? Hyuck has a key?" You mutter to yourself. You've always assumed that when he showed up randomly at your apartment, it was because Jennie, your roommate, had let him in.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you head to the door. As you swing it open, there stands Hyuck.

"Hey," he greets, a indefinable glint in his eyes. "Can I come in?"

You step aside, allowing him entry, "When did you get a key?”

He chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I don't have a key. That's the thing."

You cross your arms and pop an eyebrow, "You literally just texted me saying your key isn’t working."

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hyuck…” You grumble, “How is it that you randomly show up in the apartment then?”

He smirked, teasingly. "Magic. Or maybe Jennie's magic. I just show up, and the door opens. But seriously, I don't have a key."

You decide to drop the matter. It really wasn’t worth the headache of going back and forth with him. Besides, you really should have caught on sooner. Jennie didn’t like him, yet he was always here to pester you.

“Right…. Are you still drunk?”

“That, I am not.” He walks further into the apartment and starts messing with the stack of papers on the counter – shuffling them. “Mark made sure to leave me the usual hangover cure on my nightstand, so I don’t feel sick either.”

“You know, it’s not really proper to get drunk in the middle of the school day.” You chastise him. There’s not really a reason as to why you’re lecturing him. Can’t a friend just be worried about her other very problematic friend?

His counter comes quick, “I never claimed to be proper. If you took a walk inside my brain, you’d understand.” When you meet his gaze, he gives you a teasing wink. “Now are we ready to go see some girl get her back blown out.”

“Not the words I would use.” You mutter, grabbing your keys and phone off the coffee table in the living room and following Hyuck to the library for the second time that week.

Surprising to you, he keeps the banter to a minimum during the entire five-minute walk. Only once does he comment on your outfit, even though it was a totally normal outfit. Yet according to him you were wearing a ‘too-short cheerleading skirt that showed your ass way too much.’

Besides the one little quip, he kept his mouth shut.

What was even more surprising (as if anything could top Haechan shutting up), was that the library was way too easy to break in to.

Well, does it count as breaking in if it was left unlocked?

According to Hyuck, no. To authorities, probably.

Navigating back to the geology section was easy. All you had to do was take the staircase in the back. Honestly though, it was a bit creepy. The empty library creaked and echoed at the slightest touch. Hyucks heavy steps on the stairs made you jump which made him break his silence and tease you for the rest of the way up.

You didn’t realize this before, but the geology section perfectly overlooked the main floor of the library. Provided, there was a bookshelf blocking the ledge, which added another layer of privacy.

Hm…Hyuck wasn’t a liar.

Na Jaemin was in fact in the library, with a girl at his side, studying, after hours.

Yet, that’s all they were doing – studying. The girl furiously scribbled in her notebook while Jaemin watched. He points out what you assume to be a mistake and the girl giggles, flipping over her pencil to scrub the paper with the eraser.

There’s no denying that they sat closer than normal. She leaned into Jaemins shoulder, and his hand was under the table – probably resting on her thigh. But nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be occurring.

You go to turn around and confront Hyuck. Maybe tell him to shove a rock up his ass. But the front of his body hits your back, caging you against the bookshelf.

“Hyuck…” you warn, voice low.

“Just watch.” He murmurs, arms encircling your waist to pull you closer.

Marks words lick up your spine like a fire, singing every nerve in your body.

It meant so much more to him.

Haechan's exhalations reach you in delicate, soft wafts, caressing the back of your neck and eliciting a tingling sensation as the hairs on your skin stand on end. "See." he murmurs. A shiver runs through you as he traces his fingers along your arms, whispering, "I don't want to say I told you so, but..." he clicks his tongue, nosing your shoulder, "I told you so."

Your gaze remains fixed as Jaemin playfully pulls the girl onto his lap, their textbooks now abandoned and ignored. As she molds herself against him, the hem of her shirt lifts, and Jaemin's fingers instinctively find the revealed skin, tracing intricate patterns. At some point, his hand slips entirely under her t-shirt and drags higher and higher. You can hear his quiet murmurs, between kisses - compliments of her body, her lips, her taste.

It's selfish to think, but Jaemin should be saying those words to you. And maybe that makes you a little on edge – a little pissed off.

"They're only making out," you argue back, voice quiet, "This doesn't prove shit. Even I've done this."

You feel Haechan jolt back in surprise, unanswered questions flooding the tip of his tongue. With who? he wants to ask, but he doesn't. If anything, the questions fuel his eagerness to prove you wrong. He knows Jaemin. For fucks sake, they've been roommates since freshman year.

There's a bite to his tone when he speaks up again, "Just watch."

So, you do.

You watch as Jaemin loses himself in this girl completely, all the while wishing it was you. But no, instead, you're stuck peering through bookshelves, while Haechan presses himself into you from behind at the same time Jaemin pushes his hips up.

"Is this turning you on?" you hiss, head whipping sideways to look at him.

His head dips down to nip at your earlobe, “So?”

“You’re such a pervert.”

“And you aren’t?”

Fair point.

Though, your sexual tendencies were far from voyeuristic, you can’t help but enjoy the scene in front of you – the secret thrill of watching Na Jaemin.

Haechan’s hands slip under the hem of your shirt, mirroring Jaemin. “Want me to stop?” he mumbles.

The argument that breaks out in your head doesn’t hold a candle to the way your body reacts, because maybe, just maybe, letting Haechan fuck you between the shelves of the library isn’t such a bad idea. However, spying on Jaemin, and wishing it was him instead, might be.

But Haechan doesn’t have to know.

And after all, what he doesn’t know can’t kill him.

You shake your head no, sensing his grin against the side of your neck, “I figured as much.”

Jaemins low groan carries across the empty library, and the mere sound leaves goosebumps crawling up your spine.

So, he is a groaner.

You knew it.

Haechans voice replaces the sound, “How about you spread your legs like a good girl and let me take care of you?”

“Right here?” You hiss.

“Is that okay?” He cranes his head over your shoulder so that you could just barely make eye contact, and suddenly you’re transported back to that first night with Haechan. The innocence in his gaze, the longing, the willingness to please you. He just wants to show you that he can take care of you – more than anyone ever could.

Won’t you let him?

Silently, you nod your head – and Haechan wastes no time.

As his fingertips glide along your arms, tiny goosebumps rise in their path. Once they reach the tips of your fingers, he intertwines them with yours, creating a seamless connection, then gently presses both hands against the sturdy shelf of books. The tip of his tongue finds your neck again, swirling patterns into the skin, and the sensation of his touch sends shivers down your spine.

You want to stay like this – focused on Haechan – but the thought that you were missing the real show on the bottom floor, makes you turn your attention to the other two occupants of the library.

It’s unfortunate that the girl in Jaemins lap decided to wear jeans, because watching her struggle to undo the button, while your best friend observes impatiently, makes your head spin. He looks like he wants to rip them off her without a second thought. Instead, he smacks her hands aside with a cheeky grin and swiftly undoes it, shoving his big hand down the front of her jeans. You can’t hear what he whispers into the shell of her ear, but her breathy moans pour from parted lips, carrying across the library.

Haechan’s teeth nip at your shoulder as he untangles one of his hands from yours and curls it around the waist band of your skirt.

“No–” you mumble, “Don’t wanna get undressed here…just…push my panties to the side or something.”

Haechan’s eyes widen behind you, though you can’t see. You only hear the grunt that escapes his lips as he obeys, roughly twisting them to the side.

A shiver runs through you, the stark contrast between how he is now and how he was the other night. He’s rougher now, less gentle, less tender. It’s as if he has something to prove—maybe holding onto you with a firmer grip is the only way for him to believe it’s real. To convince himself that you’re truly his for a second time, even though you swore it would never happen again.

You barely register the sound of foil tearing before his hand moves between you, the cool slide of latex against your skin making your breath hitch. He works quickly, efficiently, like he’s done this a thousand times before—like he can’t afford to waste a second more. The anticipation coils tight in your stomach, and you swear you’re already dizzy by the time he presses against you again.

You have to slap a hand over your trembling lips when Haechan pushes his cock into you so roughly that you tilt forward and nearly lose your footing. His knuckles brushing the inside of your thigh from holding your panties to the side feels like zaps of electricity, and your eyes flutter close again.

This is so bad of you. So very bad. But you don’t mind it. Because right now, he’s fucking you so hard and so fast that you haven’t had any time to adjust. No time to think.

The shelf is shaking, but Haechan can’t find the willpower to care. He can’t find the willpower to care about anything. He doesn’t care if you don’t like him the same. He doesn’t care if you’re just doing this because it’s the right place, right time. He doesn’t care if it’s only happening because you’re enjoying the sight of Jaemin and that girl. He doesn’t fucking care.

Not when he’s the one fucking you, pushing you against the shelves so hard they might just fall over. And when you sigh his name, so breathy and whiny and so perfectly his, he reaffirms that he doesn’t fucking care.

You chose this moment.

You chose him.

If only for a night.

But he’ll take a night. He’d take anything you’d give him – anything you’d be willing to spare.

He feels like he’s transcended the astral plane, the way you suck him in, pussy so wet he’s nearly slipping out with each thrust.

Jaemin is losing his mind too. This girl – whatever her name is – just won’t shut up. She’s babbling about how hot he is, how sexy it is that she’s on his lap right now, how she can’t believe they’re doing this in the middle of the library.

All he wants to do is fuck her mouth so she’ll shut up.

You know that look — the one Jaemin gets when he's on the edge of annoyance. A flicker of doubt crosses your mind. Does he know you're up there watching? Maybe that's what’s setting him off. For a brief second, your heart clenches, cold and uncertain — but then Haechan's lips find your neck, scattering your thoughts like they were never there.

His hand reaches up the front of your body, enclosing itself around your throat. At the same time, Jaemin's hand tightens around the girl's throat, his fingers pressing into her skin with the same slow, deliberate intensity. A choked gasp slips from her lips, mirroring the way your breath shudders under Haechan’s touch. The sight of them, so perfectly aligned, sends a sharp thrill down your spine. “How does it feel?” He mumbles, squeezing just a bit, so that your response comes out quiet and strained.

“Feels good.”

“Just good?

“Feels perfect.” You gasp out.

The room feels hotter as their hands move in sync—tight, possessive. Haechan's thumb brushes along your jawline, eyes flicking between your parted lips and the way your breath catches under his grip. Jaemin mirrors him perfectly, leaning in close to the girl whose whimper fills the space.

“Perfect, huh?” Haechan taunts low in your ear, voice dripping with cocky amusement. His fingers flex around your throat, just enough to make your pulse race.

Jaemin's fingers disappear further down the girl's jeans, knuckles flexing as he works her open — soft wet sounds carrying through the dead silence of the library. His eyes are lidded, lips curled into that lazy, cocky grin you know so well. The one that says he knows exactly what he's doing to her — what he should be doing to you.

Haechan's hips snap harder behind you, forcing your cheek against the cold shelf as the books rattle in protest. His breath is hot on the side of your face, voice low and taunting. "You wish it was him, don't you?"

Your nails scrape against the wood, trying to find something — anything — to ground yourself as the shame pools hotter between your legs.

"No," you lie through clenched teeth.

Haechan laughs, breathless and mean. His hand snakes up your chest, pushing under your shirt to grab at your tits. He squeezes hard enough to make you arch into him, hips rolling back against his cock. "Liar," he spits. "You're dripping down my dick watching him finger some random bitch."

Your eyes snap open, finding Jaemin again. His mouth is on her neck now, pink tongue flicking against the delicate skin as she writhes in his lap. His free hand fists her hair, holding her still — the same way he playfully does with you when he’s holding something high above his head that you can’t reach.

Fuck.

Haechan feels the way your pussy clenches around him at the sight, and the cruel grin that spreads across his face makes your stomach flip. "Filthy little slut... you like pretending I'm him?"

You shake your head no, but Haechan catches your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look straight through the shelves. Straight at Jaemin.

"Then keep your eyes on him while I fuck you. Since that's what you want so bad."

Heat flushes through your entire body — humiliation, desire, and something darker twisting in your gut. You shouldn't want this. You shouldn't want to be fucked like a ragdoll while imagining your best friend is the one splitting you open. But the way Haechan's cock is stretching you — brutal and unrelenting — makes it so fucking hard to care.

The girl on Jaemin's lap starts whining, hips rocking against his hand. Jaemin's mouth drops open in a soft moan, head tipping back against the chair. His fingers are moving faster now — slick, dirty sounds echoing through the stacks.

Haechan's lips brush your ear, voice syrupy sweet. "Wanna come together, baby? Wanna let him hear how good we're being up here?"

You're so close — thighs trembling, pussy clenching around him with every punishing thrust. And the worst part is... you do want it. You want Jaemin to hear you. You want him to know exactly what you're doing — what he's missing out on. What Haechan gets to have while he wastes his time with girls who won't ever know him the way you do.

Haechan's fingers find your clit, rubbing fast, messy circles that send sparks shooting up your spine. "That's it," he groans, hips stuttering. "Come for me, baby. Let him hear how fucking good I fuck you."

A sudden rustle echoes through the library — footsteps approaching, heavy and deliberate. Your breath catches, panic slicing through the haze of pleasure.

You don’t want the pleasure to stop, but the sparks in your stomach are dying down with each jangle of keys you hear. When you turn your head, you see a flashlight sweeping through the aisles of books a few rows over.

“Haechan we gotta go.” You urge.

“W-Wait, just give me, ah fuck, give me two seconds.” He stammers out, hands squeezing and kneading your thighs as he gets closer and closer.

“Hyuck.” You warn,

“Please!” He whines, “I’m so fucking close.”

You roll your eyes and say the thing you know will get him to finish, “Be a good boy and cum for me.”

The words are barely a whisper, yet they cut through the tension like a knife. His body tenses, a low groan rumbling in his throat. His hips buck against yours one last time, a shudder running through him as he spills inside you. The sudden quiet after his release is deafening, broken only by the continued jangling of keys and the soft thud of approaching footsteps.

“Hurry up.” You whisper through gritted teeth.

Haechan curses under his breath, pulling out of you with a slick pop. He rips the condom off, glancing around frantically before stuffing it between the pages of a geology textbook.

“That’s disgusting.” You whisper.

He just shrugs.

"Okay," he breathes, his voice thick with spent desire. "Okay, we go."

He pulls away, and you quickly adjust your clothing, the sound of rustling fabric seeming impossibly loud in the silence. "Come on," you hiss urgently, fingers tightening around Haechan's arm as you dart through the labyrinth of shelves with desperate determination. This stupid fucking geology section was so damn difficult to navigate. Shelves of useless books and glass cases of rocks. You take a wrong turn and end up face to face with a wall.

“This way dumbass.” Haechan whispers, this time grabbing your hand and pulling you in the opposite direction.

Apparently, he knew exactly where to go, dragging you down a few corridors and finally to the back staircase that you had come up earlier. His hand tugs you down the steps so fast you think you might just tumble down them. But when you reach the bottom, he spares you a glance, “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

"Hey!” The security guard's shout jolts you, too close for comfort, and you both sprint away once more.

Navigating the bottom floor feels better; fewer shelves clutter the space, replaced by study room cubicles and vacant tables. You trail behind Haechan, relief flooding you as you spot the double doors illuminated by the red exit sign.

At last, you burst through the library doors, the cool night air a balm against the fevered heat of adrenaline that courses through your veins. But as you collide with a figure standing at the edge of the pathway, your heart lurches.

This was it. You were done for. Caught by the security guard for breaking the rules. You just hope they don’t throw you in jail. They couldn’t arrest you, could they?

"Jaemin?" Haechan gasps, his voice a breathless whisper that hangs in the air like a fragile thread.

Forget jail – you might just die here on the spot.

There Jaemin was, his hands holding your arms to steady you. God he really was just solid wall of muscle. But it was just him, no girl in sight.

He peers down at you, mouth dropped in surprise. “What are you two doing here?”

You and Haechan share a quick look and then speak at the same time. “Project.”

Jaemin releases his hold on you and takes a step back, “You don’t share classes.”

“I was helping him.”

“It’s due tonight.” Haechan affirms, still trying to catch his breath, “What were you doing here?”

It’s an accusatory statement – but you didn’t think Haechan had the balls to actually ask it.

Jaemin shoves his hands in his pockets and starts down the path. The both of you follow on his heels, “I was studying.”

“Right.”

“Well, are you guys coming back to the dorm to finish the project?”

“Can’t. I have to go to a Jennie thing, like, right now.” As if on cue, your phone pings with a slew of messages from her – all asking where the hell you were. “Can one of you guys go with me? She’s asking me why I’m late and she’s not gonna be satisfied unless I have a good excuse. But, if I bring one of you guys, she’ll understand.”

Haechan pipes up from beside you incredibly fast. Literally jumping at the chance, “I’ll go.”

“Don’t you have a project to finish?” Jaemin’s voice holds a note of skepticism as he turns his gaze to Hyuck, one eyebrow lifted.

Haechan’s expression falters for a moment, his defense tumbling from his lips, “Yeah, but­–”

“You should probably head back to work on it.” You interject, tone firm.

Jaemin nodded in agreement.

If you could get Jaemin to go with you, perhaps the night would lead exactly where you wanted it too…with him between your legs, and another part of the challenge completed.

Sure, you felt bad about literally ditching the boy you were just fooling around with – who you literally made cum in less than ten minutes. But you had a duty. A responsibility.

Right?

Haechan just shoves his hands into his pocket and storms off towards his dorm without another word. Which, by the way, was not the norm for him. He always had to have the last word. Boy must really be butt hurt.

“Jaemin?” you began, turning to face him, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

“What do I get out of this?” Jaemin's response was quick, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he met your gaze.

You roll your eyes, searching for something that would tip the scale in your favor. “You get to see pretty girls in pretty dresses.”

“Fucking deal.”

So, turns out entering a sorority house in the middle of an event was not a respected nor appreciated thing.

Technically you wouldn’t have been late had Jaemin not insisted on stopping by his dorm so that he could change. He had ‘too many girls to impress’. And then, every outfit he chose, Haechan had some rude comment to make. Thus, making you late.

Girls around the room shoot dirty looks as you and Jaemin scramble in through the door. You tuck your head down, feeling the weight of their judgement. Jaemin, however, seemed to revel in the attention. Instead of trying to blend in, he unabashedly drank in the gazes directed your way. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he winked and waved to some of the girls around you. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his audacity.

What a manslut.

Thankfully, your entrance didn't manage to disrupt Jennie's announcement. The sorority president continued her speech from the front of the room, determined to maintain the flow of the event, even if her sisters were still glaring at you.

As Jennie finished calling the names of all the new sisters, the room erupted into cheers and applause.

Someone starts playing music.

Drinks start flowing.

Jaemin filters off with mumbled excuses of finding said drinks.

And you realize just how fucked you look, literally.

Your disheveled appearance didn't go unnoticed, as Jennie approached your huddled figure. Trying to smooth down your hair and straighten your skirt, she all but sprints over. Her eyes widen when she spots a hickey on your neck.

"You're not helping your case," Jennie teased, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You sure you didn't sleep with him?"

You chuckled nervously, clawing at the mark on your neck, "Not him, someone else."

“Someone else?” She questions, raising an eyebrow. A hint of guilt washes over you; perhaps it's time to open up to her. The expression she wears suggests that if you don't share the information willingly, she might claw it out of you.

You open your mouth and close it, almost mechanically. What were you going to say? Tell her that Haechan decided to have his fun between the shelves of the geology section. Jennie would kill you, like, actually murder you and dump your cold body in the quad fountain. She’s eyeing you expectantly.

“Actually, it was–”

“Y/n! Jennie!” Jaehyun's smooth voice interrupts, catching you off guard. You turned to see him, a playful glint in his eyes. He pushes past a group of people, smiling all the while. Luck must really be on your side this week, because Jennie turns away from you to embrace him, your expected confession already forgotten.

When she pulls away, she shoots you a look. If you squinted, you’d see her pupils replaced by little animated hearts. She really was into him.

“I didn’t know you were in a sorority Y/n.” He paused, eyes flickering between you and Jennie. "You both look amazing."

You chuckled, waving off the idea. "No sorority for me. I'm just here to support Jennie. She's the social butterfly tonight.”

Jennie beamed at the mention of her being a social butterfly, and Jaehyuns compliment, clearly enjoying the attention from both of you. "Oh, you two should chat. Y/n, meet Jaehyun. Jaehyun, this is Y/n, my roommate, best friend, partner in crime, etcetera."

Jennie doesn’t know that you’ve both met before, and you guess he doesn’t have the heart to explain it all to her. Unaware of your previous encounters, she continued her introduction “Jae, Y/n is amazing. She’s the one who introduced me to that new coffee shop I’ve been meaning to take you to!”

Jaehyun extends his hand, and you shook it, feeling a subtle spark as your eyes met. "Nice to officially meet you, Y/n. Jennie's been talking about you," he admitted, a smile playing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh, has she now?"

Jennie nodded enthusiastically. "Only good things, I promise! Mostly about the coffee joint."

“About that…” Jaehyun says, pulling out his phone from his pocket and tapping the screen a few times, “I’ve been meaning to get your number so we can go sometime.”

When he hands the phone to Jennie, she all but passes out. A beaming smile overtakes her features as she hastily inputs her number. “I sent myself a text, so you’ll know it’s me.” As Jennie handed back Jaehyun's phone, a newfound excitement radiated from her. "I can't wait for us to check it out together. It's my absolute favorite," she exclaimed, seemingly oblivious to how the boy was now smirking at you.

Jaehyun, still not looking in your roommates direction, gave a nod of agreement. "Absolutely, looking forward to it." He pockets his phone and leans against the wall.

Your roommate shoots you another look, this one of pure giddy delight. “Alright! I’d like to stay and chat with you guys all night, but I got a party to run! Being a Delta Gamma girl means I gotta run around like a chicken with her head cut off. I’ll catch you guys later though?” Jennie shot one last love-struck glance your way before gracefully maneuvering through the crowd, disappearing into the sea of partygoers.

As the music pulsed and the lively atmosphere continued around you, you found yourself standing with Jaehyun, both of you momentarily left to your own devices. Jaemin was nowhere to be found so you might as well enjoy the company of Jeno’s older half-brother.

Jaehyun, ever the smooth talker, leaned in a bit closer, his voice a low murmur over the music. "Well, it looks like it's just you and me now.”

“Seems like it.” You respond, not sure what to say, but Jaehyun interrupts what little silence there was.

"So, Y/n," He begins, "Tell me about Jeno. Been keeping an eye on him?”

Honestly, you hadn't crossed paths with Jeno much this week. The only time you managed to meet up was for lunch earlier in the day, and even then, Jaehyun decided to join, leaving your catch-up session with Jeno cut short.

"Well, I'm not his personal watchdog, but as far as I know he’s doing alright. He’s probably practicing for the game tomorrow.”

Jaehyun's smile widened, and he reached up to casually brush a strand of hair from your face. The gesture sent a subtle shiver down your spine. Why did he do that? That was literally so out of the blue. Especially when he just gave your roommate his number.

"Speaking of keeping an eye on things," he teased, his tone now laced with a hint of flirtation, "You seem like you need a drink. Want me to get you one?"

You glance around the room, searching for Jaemin so that you could excuse yourself, but he was nowhere to be found – still.

You sigh, “Yeah, sure. Why not? Surprise me.”

Jaehyun returned shortly with a drink in hand, and as you took a sip, he continued the conversation. "So, tell me about the party last weekend. Did you and Haechan enjoy yourselves?"

The mention of the party made you choke on your drink (that, and the fact that it was literally ninety-five percent tequila and five percent lemonade), surprised by the sudden shift in topic. “Me and Haechan? W-what do you mean?”

He couldn’t know, could he…?

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, smirking so wide his dimples hollowed out his cheeks. It was kind of cute – in an objective way, of course. “Well, you guys went off during spin the bottle, right?”

Oh, you had totally forgotten about that.

“Yeah, but we didn’t do anything.” You wave your hand in front of your face and take another sip of your drink. It wasn’t entirely a lie – you didn’t do anything at the party.

He hums and takes a sip of his own drink. Swallowing it hard, he gestures to you, “Well, I can clearly see a hickey on your neck, so who has the pleasure of getting at you?”

Your drink nearly becomes a choking hazard once more. Attempting to articulate a response, you struggle as the words seem to get caught in your throat. God damn tequila.

“Was it Jaemin?”

Now that…that about killed you. You wished it had been Jaemin’s lips on your neck, his hands on your body, his co- “Hate to burst your bubble, but me and Jaemin are just friends.” You give him a wry smile, “It was just some dude in my class.”

“Some dude?” He smirks, and those damn dimples come out again.

You nod, “Unfortunately.”

He lifts his cup to his lips and utters, almost muffled by the rim of the solo cup, "I bet I could do better."

“Is that so?” You quip, the words leaving your mouth faster than you can comprehend. There’s no justification for the thoughts seeping into your brain. This was supposed to be Jennies man. Jeno’s brother. A friend and nothing more.

But those dimples.

And that suit he was wearing. All black tie, shiny shoes, and crisp white button up.

You could blame it on the alcohol.

You could blame it on Haechan leaving you high and dry.

You could blame it on a million other things…

But one thing is for certain: You just might regret this in the morning.

You’re definitely going to regret this in the morning.

When the windows of his car fog up, you notice the faded presence of heart shapes delicately traced by the touch of someone’s finger.

Probably his ex.

Unfortunately, this is the only thing you manage to focus on while Jaehyun fisted a handful of your hair, yanking your head back. His thrusts were fast and pointed and damn near painful.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He groans.

Maybe if you could focus really hard, you’d be able to finish, but when he snakes his hand around your waist and starts rubbing the side of your leg, you realize that that wasn’t going to happen.

“Feel good?” The cockiness drips from his lips, and it almost makes you laugh. Poor thing, at least he was hot.

“Mhm.” It’d feel better if he slowed down and stopped jackhammering into you.

The leather seats of his car stick against your skin when you try to lift up onto your elbows. It was pretty spacious, but with Jaehyun all but laying on top of you, it felt more than cramped.

His hand rubs harder, “Don’t hold back baby, cum for me.”

Did he really believe you were close to finishing? You weren’t making any sounds, not shaking, not moaning for him to keep going or go faster. But genuinely, if you told him the truth, it would probably break his ego in half. Or prompt him to actually get better at sex.

You decide to just fake it. “Fuck Jae…Feels good.”

His voice is strained, “Don’t call me Jae.”

“Sorry–” You mumble, head dipping under the weight of his heavy hand that comes to grab at the back of your neck. His other hand was already wrapped up in your hair, but the other steadies himself while he continues to fuck into you.

“Call me daddy.” He breathes.

Of course he’d have a daddy kink.

You amp your voice up a bit “F-Fuck, daddy, love your cock.” Apparently, this was exactly what he wanted because he starts humming in satisfaction, “Want your cum.” You just wanted him to be done.

The tips of his ears turn red, pace faltering when the name rolls off your tongue. “Baby...fuck” He keeps it just like that, disjointedly fucking into you as he came – thank god he had a condom on. But he doesn’t pull out right away, instead keeping still until his breathing returned to normal. You just kinda awkwardly sit there, panting.

“That was really good.” He chuckles, pulling out and sitting down on the seat. You fix yourself too, sitting beside him. Your skirt is down on the floorboard, so you bend down to get it and start to put it back on. You felt sticky and sore and not satisfied at all.

 The silence becomes more awkward than it should have been, so you speak up, “So…you have a daddy kink?”

He opens the car door and drops the condom on the ground – which was really fucking gross, but what other choice did he have?

“Yeah…I don’t know, it’s something new I guess.”

Continuing to awkwardly fumble around for something to say you ask another question, “Oh, you were experimenting?”

“I guess.” The awkwardness starts to creep back in again. He wasn’t good at pillow talking, was he? He wasn’t good at much anything when it came to sex, you guess. Throwing on his shirt, he starts to get dressed while you twist your hands together in your lap.

You shifted uncomfortably, “Um, I should probably go find Jennie,” you mumbled, avoiding direct eye contact with Jaehyun.

He seemed oblivious, choosing to focus on the button of his jeans, “Sounds good. Think ‘m gonna head home.” When he did look up, he gave you a genuine smile, “You okay to walk?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “I think I’m good.”

What is it with guys and asking if you were okay to walk after? It’s not like they’re paralyzing you with their magical cock.

As he sat there, you couldn't help but think this dude needed a serious sex ed lesson, and then a follow-up on how to treat a girl after putting her through... that.

“If you ever wanna do this again, you have my number,” he said casually.

You didn’t have his number, and you would never get it. You forced a smile, “Absolutely!”

He got out of the car, and you followed suit, stepping out onto the street and discreetly fixing your clothes so that it looked like you hadn’t been cramped in the back seat of someone’s car. He made his way to the driver’s side door and opened it, “You gonna be at the game on Sunday?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it. Jeno would kill me, you know.”

He nodded, seemingly unfazed, "Great, hopefully I’ll see you there."

You waved a half-hearted goodbye as he got into his car.  When he pulled out of sight, you muttered to yourself, lesson learned, boundaries set.

Turning on your heel, you went back inside the sorority house. The vibrant energy of the party still pulsed through the air. You wonder where this night would have gone had you stayed. Too late for that now. Now you were just unsatisfied and pissed off.

Frowning, you spot Jaemin across the room sitting on a couch. Some girl has her arm thrown around him and they’re laughing. His pink hair falls into his eyes when he looks at her and she reaches a hand up to move the tumbled strands. Her other hand rubs his arms, and he annoyingly flexes. They were three seconds away from kissing and honestly, it pissed you off even more.

Rolling your eyes, you march over to him, damn near pushing people out of the way. Some tell you to watch where you’re going but you ignore them, entirely focused on Jaemin and whoever this girl was.

“Hey Y/N” he cheerfully greets, giving you a beaming smile, “This is Vera.” He gestures to the girl by his side

You grabbed his upper arm, shaking Vera’s grip off of his other one, and pulling him upright – away from her. "Come on, we're leaving," you declared, not in the mood for his flirtatious antics. His bicep flexes, and you find yourself even more desperate to get the fuck out of the sorority house and home to where you could give yourself a proper orgasm.

Jaemin protested, trying to resist your tug. "Dude, what the fuck.” He lowers his voice, “Can’t you see I’m with a girl.”

You shot him a stern look, "You're my date?? This is so rude."

Vera just gives a nervous laugh. Probably afraid that you’d hit her if she tried something. You wouldn’t, but she didn’t know that.

He chuckled, still trying to charm his way out of the situation, "Come on, don't be like that. She's cute, and I was just having a chat." He lowers his voice again, this time whining, “Dude we were just about to go back to her place, don’t fuck this up for me please!”

Ignoring his protests, you start to drag him toward the exit. He finally relented, realizing you were serious about leaving. As you reached the door, he turned to Vera and mouthed, "Call me!"

You shook your head, muttering under your breath, "Unbelievable."

Outside, the cool night air hit you, and you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the evening. "Note to self: choose Haechan next time."

The campus path stretched ahead as you stormed down it, frustration evident in every step. Jaemin followed behind for a few minutes until he got fed up. When he finally catches up, he grabs your shoulder and spins you around.

"What's got you so mad?" he asked, a bemused expression on his face.

You took a deep breath, deciding to let it out. "Jeno's brother.”

“What about Jeno’s brother? Did he try something…I swear to God Y/N, if he tried something-”

You cut him off, “He sucks at sex.” The embarrassment creeps up your spine the longer Jaemin stares at you with wide eyes.

“Wait you…” Jaemin burst into laughter, his amusement echoing through the pathway. "No fucking way…” He clutches his stomach and doubles over, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes like you just said the funniest thing in the world, “Jeno’s brother?”

You shot him a look, still seething, but Jaemin's laughter was contagious, and soon you found yourself smiling despite your annoyance.

"What? Did he have a small dick or something?” Jaemin teased, the corners of his lips still twitching with mirth.

Eyes rolling, you cross your arms over your chest. “More like he thinks giving me an orgasm means rubbing the side of my thigh for five minutes while he fucks like a jack rabbit.”

“Oh my god.” Jaemin doubles over in laughter again, “Now I know why his girl left him.”

“Not funny.”

“Come on,” He chuckles, “Don’t be mad, laugh it off.”

You sighed, "I'm not mad, Jaemin. I'm sexually frustrated."

The laughter died down instantly as Jaemin's expression shifted. "Oh," he says, a hint of realization dawning in his eyes.

"Yeah, oh," you replied, not expecting such a reaction. What was he thinking? And why was he looking at you like that?

After a moment of silence, Jaemin speaks up, his voice softer now. "I’ll do it.”

A breeze passes through the quad, making you shiver. You rub your arms to bring warmth back into them, barely registering Jaemins words, “You’ll do what? Fuck his ex better than he ever could?”

“No,” he chuckles, “I’ll fuck you better than he ever could.”

It’s almost like the world tips over and starts swimming in your vision, because there’s no way, on Gods green fucking earth, that Na Jaemin just offered to fuck you. What happened to not even touching you with a ten-foot pole? Was there sex pollen in the air or something? Did that girl slip something into Jaemins' drink? What happened to being just friends?

But Na Jaemin was just a boy

And you were just a girl. One that was in desperate need of an orgasm.

He seemed to pick up on your hesitation, prompting him to move a step closer and begin clarifying, “Look, I won’t make it weird or anything.” Extending his hand, he gently caresses your arm, and you allow it. “Just a friend helping out a friend, right?”

“But…Why?”

As long as you’d known Jaemin there was no sexual chemistry whatsoever. Except for the last couple weeks when this challenge shit started. But you could have sworn that was all one sided, stemming from your overactive, horny ass brain that needed to be satiated.

“I guess I have a thing for helping those in need…you know, tutoring and all.”

You chew on your bottom lip, “Makes sense…”

Could this night possibly help you complete the second part of the challenge? Was fucking Na Jaemin going to be this easy?

His hand continues to stroke the side of your arm and goosebumps break out on the exposed skin. “Come on Y/N, you deserve an actual orgasm after having to put up with that.”

You raise an eyebrow, “And you think you can give me one?”

“Oh I know I can. Multiple if you’d like.” His words bite through the air, confidence dripping from his lips. Except, instead of it being cocky and very not true like Jaehyun earlier, you could sense he was telling the truth. And thinking back to the video he showed you weeks ago, of him fucking that girl and making her squirt, you realize, Jaemin is exactly who you want right now.

But maybe you want him to work for it a little more, after all, he was the slut in the friend group. (Even if you were the one that already had two cocks in you tonight).

Taking a step closer, you gaze into his eyes, “You talk a big game, Na Jaemin.”

God, he looked fucking good. Button up slightly askew, taunt collar bones peeking through the top. You want to rip it right off of him and get to the muscle’s underneath.

He mirrors your stare, “And I can back it up.” Time stands still when he gives you a once over, biting his lip when he gets to the (as hyuck called it) short ass cheerleading skirt you wore, “Look, I won’t even cum if you don’t want me too. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Desperation rolls off his tongue, and if you had looked closely enough, you’d notice the front of his pants tightening. He never thought about you in this kind of way. You were always off limits to him. A girl he could never claim. But now…with you staring at him like you wanted to bite him (odd, though he’s gotten more feral reactions from other girls before), he can’t help but think about you naked in his bed. Begging for his cock. Begging for him. And well, that made him hard.

“Whatever I want?”

He repeats his words, “Whatever you want.” Voice dropping to barely above a whisper, he gives you another once over, “You can use me as your personal sex toy.”

“Oh, but I’m not Vera?” At this point, you were teasing him – and he knew it. “Thought you wanted her?”

He laughs, “Maybe, but you’re definitely prettier than her.” It catches him by surprise when he notices that it’s true. You were prettier than her. In fact, now that he’s noticing, you were prettier than about ninety five percent of the girls on this campus. How the fuck had he not noticed before? Or maybe he had…maybe this is the first time he’s wanted to admit it to himself. “Come on, I’m so much better than the rubber shit you’d be using if you went home alone.”

You step closer, almost chest-to-chest with him, “And how do you know I’d be using rubber; I have perfectly good hands-”

He leans in, bringing his face inches from yours, "Not better than mine." His eyes drift down to your lips, only to return and lock onto your gaze. "And we both know that."

There’s only a sliver of sanity left in your body to stop you from kissing him right then, right there, in the middle of campus.

“Jaemin.” You whisper.

“Yeah baby?”

That sanity was slipping further and further away.

“What’s the fastest route to your dorm?”

A. NOTE. read the the note at the beginning of this post. and don't forget to reblog :)

TAGLIST. @newdeobi @jijihyunah @saintlyhyuck @mrkis @peachjaem00 @angelwonie @aliceinwhateverland @cabaretyun @allaboutthedongs @donutswithjaminthemiddle @bundleleeknow @sunshinedhyuck @kuingjuing @haechanalpha @thiccfullsun @jenoxygen @ishireads @greentealatte97 @aquamxrina @whymarkieyournameismark @marklexleaf @its-taeil-time @j4d @dearj43 @roohnyk @stargrll13 @hykwrld @leeluc @haechie @xuxisins @rainyjeno

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, smut mndi, chronic pain mention, I always feel like my confessions are awk so sorry if you think this one is too

note for minors: a lot of this chapter is smut, but you can read up until the red line without worrying about it. There's no summary this time because it really is just smut for smut's sake and all the character development happens before it starts, so you won't need it for the plot. There is one vague mention of boners before the red line (sorry it's just for a laugh), but that's it

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 3.2k words

You catch on quickly to what’s happened between Sirius and Remus. What you don’t understand is why they’ve interrupted it to come talk to you. And how you could be wrong twice—do they cancel out if you were truly right the first time? 

Clearly, the chemistry you’d felt between Remus and Sirius wasn’t imagined. You’d convinced yourself you must’ve gotten your wires crossed—otherwise why would Remus have kissed you?—but evidently they’ve come to some sort of agreement. Are they here to ask for your permission? Intra-team fornicating: approved. 

You’re not sure if you wish they’d waited until they were less hard to pop by. 

“Um.” You keep your eyes very intentionally on the boys’ faces. “What’s up?” 

Sirius looks almost nervous, skittish even, but Remus’ hand wraps around his to pull him closer to your doorway. Your heart does something funny in your chest. 

“Could we talk?” Sirius asks. 

“Er…yeah. Of course.” You step aside, letting them into your small room. Remus sits politely on the edge of your bed, giving you deja vu from the night before, while Sirius makes himself comfortable further back. He leans his side into your pillow where it’s propped up on the wall. 

“We were talking,” starts Remus, “and I told Sirius about what happened between us.” 

Your next breath seems to come slower. Unwillingly, your gaze flits to Sirius, but he looks impassive, only like he might be scrutinizing you in turn. You look back at Remus. “You did?” 

“I did,” he says gently. “But it wasn’t—” 

“Babe,” Sirius interrupts, “don’t look so freaked. What’s the matter? And why are you still standing there?” 

You realize you’re hugging yourself around your middle, standing awkwardly in front of the bed. “I’m not sure it’s meant to hold three people,” you say weakly. 

Sirius snorts, whatever nervousness he’d arrived with vanishing. Sirius has always been good this way; he can only ever panic when no one else is, but the second you’re panicking too he’s all ease. 

“Don’t be silly.” He pats the space between himself and Remus. It’s as ample as the bed allows, which isn’t saying much. “It’ll be fine. Anyway, it’s your bed.” 

You can’t think of a good reason to argue. Something in you calms as you settle in between them, Sirius’ hip touching yours and the warmth of Remus’ body on your other side. It’s familiar, safe. 

“Are you upset?” you ask Sirius. 

His brows pinch. “Why would I be?” 

“Because…” You cringe. “Aren’t you two…?”

“There’s been a lot of confusion, I think,” Remus says kindly. “But when we were talking, we both sort of came to the realization that we fancy each other…and you.” 

There’s a dense pause. 

“And me?” you echo. 

Remus’ lips tilt slightly. “Yes.” 

“As in…” You rub your eyes, dumbfounded. “Sorry, I did just wake up.” 

Sirius laughs. Remus too, reaching over to rub your knee like he can’t help himself. 

“For the record, I didn’t plan any of this,” says Sirius, “but if I had, I’d have done it exactly this way. It’s very gratifying to finally disturb your sleep schedules the way you pricks have been doing to me all these weeks.” 

“Oi,” Remus chides teasingly, reaching over you to push at Sirius’ thigh. You marvel at this new easiness between them, now given even newer context. “Anyway, we thought we’d come see if you might be interested.” 

“In…you.” You rub your lips together, looking between them and noticing Sirius’ gaze has fallen to your mouth. Unless you’re terribly mistaken and you’ve got it all wrong, this means he fancies you as well. Your partner, your best friend. 

The idea isn’t as upsetting as it ought to be. 

Do you fancy him too? You’ve never thought about Sirius in that way. You love him, of course, but you’ve never taken the time to parse out if it might be a different sort of love than the kind between friends. And as for the rest—well, who wouldn’t be attracted to Sirius? You’re only human. 

“In both of us, yes,” Remus confirms patiently. 

“Is that something you’d be into?” Sirius asks. 

Your answer leaves you on a breath, thoughtless but true. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” Sirius grins. 

You nod. You’re suddenly fixated by the way his cupid’s bow flattens out when he smiles like that. It’s something you’ve noticed a thousand times before, but now…

“Yeah,” you say again. “Um…what do we do?” 

Remus chuckles. “I don’t really know. I’ve not been with two people before.” 

“Believe it or not, this is a first for me as well,” Sirius says lightly. 

“Right,” you laugh. It breaks up some of the apprehension in your chest. 

“If you want to,” Remus’ voice softens, “I suppose you could start by kissing him.” 

You look at him, then at Sirius. For the first time, something like insecurity flashes across his face. 

“You don’t have to,” he says quietly. No longer the brazen flirt, but the kind, considerate boy you know. “It’s okay.” 

“I know,” you reply. 

It’s like he’s afraid to touch you until you get to him. You steady yourself with a hand on his jaw, your other pressing into the mattress as you lean towards where he’s reclined against your pillow and bring your lips to his. 

You know all the ways that Sirius moves, and even this new, completely uncharted part of him is consistent. Sirius’ kisses start out slow, probing, feeling out what you like and what he can do, but then he gives himself over to it. His hands find first your hips, urging you closer to him before one slides to the small of your back. Greedy fingers curl in the fabric of your pajama top. 

You make a small, accidental sound in the back of your throat when his teeth tease your bottom lip, and Sirius pulls away. You’re both breathing hard. 

Sirius stares at you for a weighted moment before his eyes drift behind you and he huffs out a laugh. “Enjoyed that, did you?” 

You look over your shoulder, and Remus is watching you both with a low flame burning in his gaze. He flushes a tad at the question but his expression doesn’t change. He leans forward, kissing you, tasting Sirius on your lips. 

───────────────────────────────────────────

The three of you don’t need to speak much to communicate. Remus pulls you back into him, his length hardening against your ass, and Sirius follows. He kisses Remus over your shoulder with a relieved sort of sigh. All the while, his hands are roving your thighs, pushing up your pajama shorts until they crease and pinch at your crotch. 

You exhale and tilt your head to the side when Remus drops his lips to your neck. “We have a competition tomorrow,” you remind them both. “We ought to be resting up.” 

You feel Sirius’ grin as he brings his mouth to yours again. “Yup.” He nips your bottom lip. “I’m aware this is a bad idea.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t condone it,” Remus agrees, one hand covering your ribs while the other sneaks down to tease the waist of your pajama shorts.Your poor shorts are being attacked from both sides. “How far do you want to go?” 

Sirius pulls his lips from yours to watch you think. They still tingle, and you rub them together unconsciously. His eyes darken. 

“You drive me mad when you do that,” he says. 

“Do what?” 

Sirius’ mouth kicks up at the corner. He brings his thumb to your lower lip, pressing down on it gently. His own lips are swollen and gleaming prettily with spit, eyes nearly all pupil. Remus’ hand strokes lazily at your side. 

“I want to go as far as you guys want to,” you say without breaking Sirius’ gaze. 

His grin widens, and he looks at Remus, shrugging. “We could just go until somebody says stop.” 

“Alright,” says Remus. One of his hands leaves you, finger hooking in the waist of Sirius’ trousers. “Can we take these off, then?” 

Sirius isn’t shy, but you didn’t think he would be. He sits up on his knees and pulls them down, letting Remus help them over his ankles before they’re discarded in a heap on the floor. Remus gets rid of his too, and then you’re staring at the outlines of both boys through the far thinner material of their underwear. 

Remus ghosts a touch over Sirius’ cock, making the other boy’s expression pinch with want, before pulling down the waistband. Lithe, graceful muscles and hip bones curving inwards. Sirius curses as Remus’ long fingers wrap around him. 

Remus pumps slowly, his own arousal an insistent heat at your hip. You find your attention torn between the feeling of his body against your backside and the sultry droop of Sirius’ eyelids as he watches Remus work his cock. 

“Doesn’t he look pretty?” Remus murmurs. 

It takes you a second to realize he’s speaking to you. “Yeah.” Your mouth feels dry. You swallow, and watch as Sirius’ eyes flit up to the motion. “He always does.” 

Remus hums in agreement, pressing a light kiss to an exposed bit of skin beside the neckline of your top. “Do you want to try, lovely?” 

You turn your head to look at him. Remus’ eyes are glued to Sirius. “What about you?” 

A chuckle, and another soft kiss to your shoulder. “I’ll be alright.” 

Remus waits until your hand is around Sirius’ shaft, pumping a couple times against his own fist, before letting go. You choose a slightly less languid pace than Remus had. Sirius twitches in your grasp, taking your face in his hands and setting his lips to yours with a muffled groan. 

Behind you, Remus moves closer until his length is pressed against your ass. One of his hands steadies you by the hip while the other dips below the waistband of your shorts, palming you through your underwear. You shift, and he hisses when you move against him. 

You turn your head on instinct, Sirius’ lips smudging across your cheek. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright.” Remus’ voice is breathy, amused. “You just surprised me.” 

“What’d she do?” Sirius is never one to be left out of the loop. 

“Just backed into me.” 

“Oh. Gorgeous,” he smiles, turning you by the chin to capture your lips again, “who wouldn’t want that?” 

Their praise soon has you devolving into a thoughtless, sensory creature. Sirius’ hands caress your face and neck and Remus’ fingers brush your panties aside to toy with your cunt. Every movement of your hips makes him push more insistently against you. Your shirt comes off, Remus dotting your shoulders with sweet kisses. Your grip tightens on Sirius’ cock, and a low, needy sound tears out of him. 

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart. Just like that.” 

Your heart flutters at the endearment, but you don’t let your movements stall. Soon he’s pushing his hips into your hand, kisses turning messy and desperate, your own sounds harder to suppress as Remus bullies your clit with two fingers. You’re glad to know at least Sirius’ room is empty on your other side, because you’re beginning to wonder how thick these walls are. Remus pushes his length into the crease between your asscheeks through your shorts, Sirius’ cock beginning to twitch in your hand, and you press your lips together to contain a sound that promises to be both loud and mortifying—and the bed collapses. 

You fall backwards onto Remus as the cardboard on his end gives out, sending all three of you to the floor. Sirius’ teeth knock into yours and Remus catches you around the waist with both hands, keeping you from fully sitting on his hard cock. 

“Fuck.” Sirius brings a hand to his mouth. “What the fuck?” 

“Oh, shit.” You scramble away from Remus, onto the floor. Both boys look at you in alarm. You’re looking to where Remus’ leg is bent underneath him, not at a terribly cruel angle, but still— “Your hip. Is your hip okay?” 

“Oh.” Remus glances down as though he’s forgotten it himself, realization dawning over his features. 

“Fuck,” Sirius breaths, remembering as well. His hand moves toward Remus but lingers in the air, afraid of hurting him. 

“It’s…yeah, it’s okay,” says Remus. His eyes meet yours. “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” 

Sirius’ brows pinch, but his hand makes it the rest of the way, rubbing tentatively over Remus’ hip joint. “Are you sure?” 

Remus shifts slowly, sitting up off his knees to move closer to Sirius. “I’m sure.” A little smile graces his lips. “You worried about me, Pads?” 

Sirius’ face splits in the sort of grin you can only ever surprise out of him. “Fuck off,” he laughs, pushing Remus away when he tries to kiss him. Remus catches Sirius’ hands, his own smile unfurling slowly, almost unwillingly. It makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“How sweet,” he hums, smug. 

You find yourself smiling at them both, your heart a balloon in your chest. 

“Okay.” You give the mattress a little tug. “In that case, could you guys get off?”

“What’re you doing?” Remus asks. Both he and Sirius move. 

“Having this on a slant doesn’t seem like a good idea, so I’m moving it.” 

It should be awkward, this break in the tension, but maybe it’s because you’re so used to working as a team that it isn’t. You all get the mattress situated on the floor, and then you’re dragging Remus’ underwear off, his hands moving kind and doting over the lengths of your arms. He inhales a small breath as Sirius takes his cock into his mouth. 

You watch Sirius’ lips move up and down his shaft, his eyes dark and growing shiny as he takes Remus as far as he can. You aren’t quite sure how to contribute, but when you rub the inside of Sirius’ thigh tentatively both boys moan. You take that to mean you’re on the right track. 

The muscles in Sirius’ back flex as he raises and lowers his head between Remus’ legs, mouth growing wet with spit and slick, and it’s not long before Remus’ fingers are curling in Sirius’ hair, curses spewing from between his lips in a Welsh accent you’ve not heard before. You can’t help but follow them back to the source, kissing Remus just before he cums down Sirius’ throat. He grips you by the arms with something like desperation. You’re happy to stay as the tension unwinds from his body, until his hands are moving down you, smoothing across the skin just above the waistband of your shorts. 

“Are you planning on keeping those on all night?” 

It’s Sirius who asks, his gaze sultry as he watches Remus’ finger skim just underneath the fabric covering your ass. He wipes the corner of his mouth with a thumb. 

“How’s this?” Remus suggests. He pulls you gently into his lap, situating you between his legs with your back against his chest. Again, you can feel the impression of him pressed against your backside. 

Your voice comes out weak. “This is good.” 

He chuckles, soothing a hand down your side while Sirius grins. Sirius’ fingers grasp the elastics of both your shorts and your underwear. “Okay?” he asks you. 

You nod. 

He takes his time working them down your legs and off your ankles, his eyes locking on your exposed cunt and the arousal Remus has coaxed out of you already. Remus, too, is watching over your shoulder. His fingers gravitate back to it, dragging slick up through your folds idly, almost worshipfully. He kisses behind your ear. 

“Fuck, you’re lovely,” says Sirius. 

Both boys’ gazes stay glued to your cunt as Sirius positions himself over you, pushing into your warmth. You bite down on a small sound. Remus tuts at you, his hand spreading reassuringly over your navel. 

“You can do better than that,” he chides. “Don’t think we don’t want to hear you.” 

Sirius holds your hips as he sinks into you. His fingers dent your flesh, and you marvel at the fact that you’ve wasted so much time not doing this. That you’ve ever been in a room with either Remus or Sirius and managed not to kiss them dizzy. You’re not sure you’ll be able to manage it again. 

Remus draws slow, tight circles around your clit with his finger. You arch your neck back onto his shoulder, and Sirius groans as you tighten on him. 

“God—you’re so perfect,” he says hoarsely. “You feel so good.” 

Your reply gets lost on a lewd sound as he drags his cock along your walls. Remus kisses you rewardingly in the soft skin underneath your ear. “There you are,” he says. “Good girl.” 

Warmth unfurls through your gut. 

Sirius grins whatever reaction must show up on your face, his hands migrating to your ass as he thrusts into you. As he gets rougher, so do Remus’ ministrations to your clit, his slow circles turning quick and jagged. You feel yourself tighten on Sirius in little flutters that have him gripping you tight enough to leave fingerprint bruises. 

“Fuck, like that, yeah. Just like that, baby.” 

Your lips part at the pet name and Sirius’ eyes flick up to yours like he’s surprised too, like he’s let slip something he didn’t mean to. But you say, “come here,” and he goes, leaning over you to let you take his face in your hands and kiss him until you can’t breathe. 

Remus feels your high approaching before you do. His free hand smooths over the inside of your twitching thigh. 

“Are you close?” he asks you. 

Sirius parts his lips from yours, looking down to see the confirmation on your face. You give it.

“Good,” he says, picking up his pace, “good, sweetheart, that’s it. Cum for me, yeah? I’ve got you.” 

You nearly bite your lip in half when you do, Remus tsking amusedly and kissing your neck while the tightening of your cunt threatens to send Sirius over the edge as well. He starts to pull out of you, but you grab his hand. 

“It’s okay,” you manage. “In me.” 

“Really?” he asks in a strangled voice. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I wanna feel it.” 

That’s all it takes. Sirius’ expression pinches like you’ve said something cruel as he thrusts into you one last time, a shock that reverberates through you as he warms you from the inside out. He’s rigid for a few seconds before tipping forward, his head to your shoulder and to Remus' chest, which you’ve slipped down without noticing. His breath fans softly over your skin. 

Remus rubs your thigh comfortingly and with his other hand pets down Sirius’ hair, cupping his flushed cheek. “Alright, love?” he asks. 

Sirius’ blush seems to worsen. “Yeah. You?” 

“More than.” Remus kisses his head. 

It’s only after a few seconds of silence that you realize Remus’ question was posed to the both of you. 

“That was…” you shake your head, at a loss “...fantastic.” 

“Yeah?” Sirius nudges his nose into your skin. “I thought so.” 

Remus’ chuckle rumbles through all three of you. “Cocky,” he says fondly. 

“And decent enough with it, by all reports.” 

It starts up a round of sweet, half teasing kisses Sirius pretends to want to escape despite making no real efforts to do so. You give and receive plenty of your own, until not just your lips and shoulders but many other parts of you are wet with spit and slick. You fall asleep all three on a twin mattress on the floor, your head on Remus’ chest and Sirius’ arms wound around your middle. It might be the best sleep you’ve ever had.

[visualtaehyun]

TNP EP.1 language annotations & novel extras ✨

We made it y'all 🥹 It's finally here and I couldn't be happier!! Without further ado, let's get right into it~

Disclaimer: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏

I mentioned this already in my post about the trailer but there's some interesting linguistic switching getting kinda lost in translation in the introductory conversation between Charan and the King. Charan starts out all proper, using royal language:

Charan: กระหม่อมเชื่อว่าฝ่าบาททรงมีเหตุผลส่วนพระองค์พ่ะย่ะค่ะ /gra-maawm cheuua waa faa-baat song mee haeht-phohn suaan phra-ohng, pha-ya-kha/ = I am certain that Your Majesty has Your Majesty's own justifications.

These will keep coming up so I'm just gonna explain all of them in one go here for y'all to refer back to:

-> กระหม่อม /gra-maawm/ = male 1st pers. pronoun used when addressing royalty -> ฝ่าบาท /faa-baat/= 2nd pers. pronoun used for royalty -> ทรง /song/ = prefix that turns common verbs into royal ones (here before มี /mee/ = to have), used in other royal context as well -> ส่วนพระองค์ /suaan phra-ohng/ = royal version of ส่วนตัว /suaan dtuaa/ = personal, private -> พ่ะย่ะค่ะ /pha-ya-kha/ = male (ending) particle used with royalty of certain ranks

The King then reprimands and reminds him not to use royal language (คำราชาศัพท์ /kham raa-chaa-sap/) with him:

Thipokbowon: ปู่พูดไปหลายครั้งนะ เวลาอยู่ด้วยกันสองคนนี่ไม่ต้องพูดราชาศัพท์ ยังไงเจ้าก็เป็นหลานที่ปู่เลี้ยงดูมาแต่เด็ก /bpuu phuut bpai laai khrang na. weh-laa yoo duay gan saawng khohn nee mai dtaawng phuut raa-chaa-sap. yang ngai jao gor bpen laan thee bpuu liiang duu maa dtaae dek/ = I've mentioned this many times. When it's just the two of us, there's no need to use royal language. You're still the grandson that I've looked after since you were a boy.

He refers to himself as ปู่ /bpuu/ (= grandpa) with Charan and throughout the entire conversation refers to Charan either just by his name or เจ้า /jao/ (= polite affectionate 2nd pers. pronoun used by sb. who's senior/older for sb. who's junior/younger) - and in some instances หลาน /laan/ (= grandchild, nibling, or a nibling's child).

Once reminded, Charan stops speaking in royal register yet still remains formal and polite:

Charan: ตอนนี้คุณปู่เป็นยังไงบ้างครับ /dtaawn nee khun bpuu bpen yang ngai baang, khrap/ = How are you doing currently, grandfather?

It's only when the King has given him his mission, while calling him หลาน /laan/, that Charan also uses the very familiar pronouns set by the King, referring to himself as หลาน /laan/, and ditches the formal คุณ /khun/ and ครับ /khrap/:

Charan: ถ้าปู่ไว้ใจหลาน หลานจะไปนำมาให้ /thaa bpuu wai jai laan, laan ja bpai nam maa hai/ = If you trust me, grandpa, then I'll bring it to you.

He is of course back to royal language right away though lol:

We're still not done with this scene though 🤡 Charan and the King use certain codes with each other that are explained in the novels since this chapter is a Charan POV one. The codes I mean are:

"The cicadas are shedding their skin. Summer must be coming soon."

the chamomile and oolong tea

If you don't care for novel details, you may of course scroll on to the next section but here is further explanation from Ch.3:

Thipokbowon: "I wish the cicada would have a little longer time... I wish summer would come later, but that's not going to happen." -> "Charan had long ago read about the life cycle of cicadas from a children's book the king had given him. The king had said, 'The life cycle of cicadas is one of the world's wonders. The nymphs live underground for two to seventeen years until they are strong enough to emerge, molt, and continue their species above ground.' So, it means... the time has come."

"Chamomile tea meant the king wanted to relax and have a casual conversation. If he chose this tea, it meant he just wanted to see Charan and talk a bit, maybe ask about his well-being. But if he chose oolong tea, it meant he had a secret task for Charan, and the order would vary based on the king's needs."

Nin is a business student and I was so delighted to see they actually went with Bayes Business School as the authors had outlined in these character profiles over two years ago!!

In the novels, Nin is making his way from home to the uni's Fencing Club and gets on at Earl's Court station. The tube station Nin makes his way to in this EP. though looks to be set at London Bridge station, judging from the signage:

All the way from when Charan and Nin first talk to each other here, up until a certain point in the EP., they both use ผม/คุณ /pom, khun/ (= polite formal male 1st pers. pronoun and polite formal 2nd pers. pronoun) with each other, no polite particles in sight though!

Nin: นี่คุณมาตามจีบผมหรอ /nee khun maa dtaam jeep pom raaw/

-> จีบ /jeep/ isn't as harmless and noncommittal as 'flirting', it's actively pursuing, wooing, courting, there is intent. In the novels, it's Nin's friends who suggest this guy might be stalking him because he fancies Nin so it's all the more funny having Nin say it himself! Really says something about his confidence lol

The dish Thatdanai is preparing is likely either regular Khao Soi, which is Emmaly's national dish in the novels, or the version they created for the series that Nunew spoiled the other day during their LINE MAN live :D

Thatdanai and Nin refer to themselves and each other as พ่อ /por/ (= dad) and Nin นิน, his dad also calls him ลูก /luuk/ (= child, son) sometimes. Keep all of this in mind as it changes later :(

-> from Ch.1: "Khanin thought his father seemed more like a soldier than a writer, with his stern demeanor, strictness, and firm voice that he often used during fencing practice. It felt like being trained by a medieval knight commander." + "In reality, Tatdanai's main job was as a ghostwriter for celebrities, mostly writing autobiographies of athletes."

Thatdanai, interrupting Ran: ผมจัดการเอง /pom jat-gaan eng/ = I'll handle it myself. Nin: แล้วเมื่อกี้พ่อบอกพ่อจะจัดการ พ่อจะจัดการอะไรอะ /laaeo meuaa gee, por baawk por ja jat-gaan. por ja jat-gaan a-rai a/ = And you just said you would handle it. What're you going to handle?

-> จัดการ /jat-gaan/ = deal with, handle, manage, take care of

This is way bigger than what they called a party in the novel xD

It's giving American teen movie house party rather than the comparatively small get-together in Ch.6 lol – in the novels, they're just sitting in a circle together drinking and playing party games on Samantha's roof. Nin knows Samantha's friends from playing music with them (he was on keyboard) and occasionally uploading covers on tiktok, they're music geeks and film students. Charan, by the way, is the only one not drinking alcohol in the novels.

It's interesting they made Khanin aware of the Emmalian belief about kissing so early on cause he finds out much later in the novels which puts things into perspective for him. I do love though how they conveyed that info to both him and the audience (I previously addressed my doubt about how to nicely incorporate this into the show in an ask (spoilers ahead!)).

Thatdanai: ผมไม่รู้จะบอกเขายังไงดี ก็ตลอดเวลาที่ผ่านมาผมรู้สึกผูกพันกับเขาเหมือนเขาเป็นลูกแท้ ๆ ของผม /pom mai ruu ja baawk khao yang ngai dee. gor dta-laawt weh-la thee phaan maa, pom ruu-seuk phuuk phan gap khao meuuan khao bpen luuk thae thae khaawng pom/ = I don't know how to tell him. Throughout all this time, I've become attached to him as if he was my real son.

Then once Nin enters, Charan starts speaking to him using royal language:

Ran: ท่านชายคณินทร์ พระองค์มีสายเลือดของกษัตริย์ และฝ่าบาทต้องเสด็จกลับเอมมาลี /than-chaai Khanin, phra-ohng mee saai leuuat khaawng ga-sat. lae faa-baat dtawng sa-deht glap Emmaly/ = Prince Khanin is of royal blood. And Your Royal Highness must return to Emmaly.

-> ท่านชาย /than-chaai/ = Nin's title, his rank is lower than his biological father's for example: Prince Tharin เจ้าชายธาริน /jao-chaai Tharin/ -> พระองค์ /phra-ohng/ = previously mentioned, can be the royal equivalent to ตัว 'body, self' as well as a 3rd pers. pronoun used for certain ranks of royalty -> เสด็จ /sa-deht/ = another royal verb used for any movement by a royal; used in other royal context as well

And then everything's falling apart...

Thatdanai, after bowing to his own son: ท่านคือท่านชายคณินทร์ /than keuu than-chaai Khanin/ = You are Prince Khanin, Sir. -> ท่าน /than/ = respectful formal 2nd pers. pronoun

กระหม่อม... ไม่ใช่พ่อที่แท้จริงของท่าน /gra-maawm... mai chai por thee thae jing khaawng than/ = I... am not your real father, Sir.

[...] ที่ฝ่าบาทจะต้องกลับเอมมาลี /thee faa-baat ja dtawng glap Emmaly/ = that Your Royal Highness must return to Emmaly.

I cried buckets over Nin and Thatdanai, y'all. Both while reading the books as well as while watching this singular EP 🥹

Charan is also in royal language mode:

Ran: หน้าที่ของกระหม่อมคือดูแลและปกป้องฝ่าบาท /naa-thee khaawng gra-maawm kheuu duu-lae lae bpok-bpaawng faa-baat/ = My duty is to take care of and protect Your Royal Highness.

When Nin sits down with his dad to have him explain everything, Thatdanai calls Nin ฝ่าบาท /faa-baat/ and himself กระหม่อม /gra-maawm/ again and uses royal register. And since I've reached the picture limit and that's a new one for me 🤡 no more screenshots from here on out but I'm almost done, thankfully

เสด็จปู่ของท่านชายเป็นเจ้ามหาชีวิตของประเทศเอมมาลี /sa-deht bpuu khaawng than-chaai bpen jao ma-haa cheewit khaawng bpra-theht Emmaly/ = Your Royal Highness's grandfather is the King of Emmaly. -> เสด็จ /sa-deht/ = here used as a prefix for a member of the royal family, kind of like- venerable grandfather -> เจ้ามหาชีวิต /jao ma-haa cheewit/ = the king's title

ขบวนเสด็จของเจ้าหญิงคุณิตา พระมารดาของฝ่าบาท ถูกมุ่งร้าย /kha-buan sa-deht khaawng jao-ying Khunita, phra-maan-daa khaawng faa-baat, thuuk moong raai/ = The royal procession of Princess Khunita, Your Royal Highness's mother, got targeted. -> พระมารดา /phra-maan-daa/ = มารดา /maan-daa/ is already the formal expression for 'mother', พระ /phra/ is a prefix added for royalty

เจ้าชายธารินสูญเสียพระชายาและพระโอรสไป /jao-chaai Tharin suun siia phra-chaa-yaa lae phra-oh-roht bpai/ = Prince Tharin lost his royal consort and his son. -> พระชายา /phra-cha-yaa/ -> พระ /phra/ see above + ชายา /chaa-yaa/ = consort, wife -> โอรส /oh-roht/ = royal expression for 'son'

When Thatdanai later comes to check on Nin and leaves him the caramel candy, he's back to พ่อ /por/ (= dad) and Nin นิน 🫠

NEXT WEEK: Ran and Nin on the move, meeting Vetith (Vatis? Wetid? ...เวทิศ!) in Thailand, Tharin finds out his son is alive, more tears and more bickering!

⇒ emblems, territories and royal houses of Emmaly ⇒ royal family of Emmaly + other character bios ⇒ relationship chart ⇒ characters and cast of TNP ⇒ all my TNP posts

[mixingandmelting]

Flag Check HC Sabbath Ver.

Summary: type of romantic flag when around their crush

Wooin: Red Flag 🚩 (obviously)

Tends to be extra freaky where he’s wanting to keep all your attention to himself and leave others to think that you two are a package (as that is his ultimate goal)

Unapologetically, vocally flirty and unfiltered when he “bumps” into you when you’re out and about, enjoying all the expressions you make because they’re funny and extremely cute. His favorite so far is flushing from embarrassment and the one filled with dread and annoyance when he gets there and act filthy on spot

Always physically attached to you, walking right beside you where shoulders are brushing, arm either around your shoulders, waist, or arm. Surprisingly does not want to hold hands because he wants to do it when he finally gets to go out with you

Certified social media stalker if you have one, so he’s up to date with the things you like and dislike. Uses the info he collects to get you things when he gives you a heads up for once that’s he’s coming over or inviting you to eat out

He’s possessive and does not like it at all when others get too close to you. When it happens he’s being a jerk, getting under the other person’s skin under the context he’s kidding around when he’s subtly dropping signs. Even better when they’re hot heads and ends up picking a fight against him since they won’t have a chance with you and he has an excuse let out the steam he held back

If they don’t get the hint or chooses to still focus on you, he ends up threatening them to screw off behind your back whether it’s the second you step away for a moment or finding them after you leave

Hyuk: Red Flag 🚩(literally are we going to forget what happened in chapters 502, 506-508? When Wooin says once he's interested in someone no one can stop him?)

Seems laid-back and listless but actually the quieter and more scheming version of Wooin where he plans to leave the impression you guys are actually going out

Does the “coincidentally” meeting you thing which he ends up accompanying you throughout the whole as if it’s natural and you don’t notice what had just happened until the end

Purposely pushes your buttons and tease you unexpectedly, enjoying your reactions 

It happen when, if you’re the unpredictable type and challenge him with high stakes, usually having to do with loser having to do something for the winner, he’s really chatty from the excitement, his blood pumping from the thrill of competition

Likes to lean his head on your shoulder whenever he’s next to you, standing or sitting down

Also stalks your socials to get information on your current likes or dislikes so he knows what to send/give you given the moment and your mood

Especially with the fact he’s quick to notice how you’re feeling, the gifts he gets you are ones he knows that’ll cheer you up, celebrative, or appreciative. Essentially, all his gifts he gives are sent that are deemed appropriate on the current situation

Someone getting close to you is equivalent to them having a death wish. He acts as the grim reaper where  the other person trips over air in front of you in the most embarrassing way or they suddenly need to head somewhere else after you left them and Hyuk alone to get something

Joker/Hajun: Green Flag 

He is so soft and in love with you where he just wants to be with you in the normal, non-creepy way (cough Hyuk and Wooin)

Always is getting you something no matter the circumstance, whether it’s winning you a stuffed toy from the claw machine or getting you food from take-out or a bakery

Has a habit of petting your head or ruffling your hair whenever he thinks you’re cute or acting endearing. Time-to-time, he would place an apple or his newly-acquired puppy on your head when you’re feeling down

He’s very protective of you where he acts as bodyguard whenever he’s hanging out with you. Includes walking a step behind yet still close so he could react if something were to ever happen while keeping both your front and back safe

Even when he’s working out, playing with the puppy, or doing anything right beside you, his attention is completely towards you, actively listening to everything you’re saying

Helps you out with any manual tasks, especially with any heavy lifting. When he’s helping you with getting groceries, he’s carrying the bags. You’re moving and needing to carry boxes? He’s carrying them and placing them in the vehicle for you

When someone is too close to you, he’s extremely quiet and doesn’t get in between the two of you. It’s not because he’s shy but from holding back where his fists are clenched in his pockets or at his sides yet doesn’t want to do anything that scares you

If the person had ill intentions, he lets loose and ends up beating the crap out of them behind your back. If not, he’s releasing the pent up frustration on the ring so RIP to his opponent on those days

Vinny: Green Flag 

He’s extremely stiff and quiet because he has no experience with having a crush, so he doesn’t know what to do

Contrary to his personality, he is extremely jumpy from being hyper-aware of everything when he’s around you. Your voice, your hair, your very presence that’s right next to him - he’s trying to absorb everything of you and engrave it in his mind that even the birds that innocently chirp are a distraction

It’s also from that when there’s accidental physical touch he freezes on spot, not expecting the feeling of warmth and softness of your skin grazing against his

He acts nonchalant but tries his best to mentally and emotionally support you where if it seems you’re holding back, he encourages you to vent/rant on him with a short-grunt along the lines of telling you to just say what’s in your mind

The gifts he usually gets you are small and are accessories such as keychains, phone charms or something useful with the theme that the mascot on them are ones that reminds him of you the most

If he finds out anything new about you, he keeps a mental note of it and remembers it where there are times he’s the one reminding you of things you need to do 

Someone getting too close to you? He instantly is on the edge, standing afar and brooding silently from inferiority complex working at its max and the fear that he could possibly hurt you from his current state clashes with the complex

He has no problems lashing out on spot if the person makes you uncomfortable despite being in front of you. If it’s not that, he would wait for the conversation to end and leave with you but he’s extremely off and quiet as he wouldn’t know how to act normal nor what to do in general

[kanmom51]

Those JM and JK being ‘subtle’ moments - Part 10

cr./to the owners of the media in this post.

Part 10 of maybe (?) more to come that is.

Or...

A page from JM and JK’s book of “How do we do the couple in the group without others noticing it (or so they thought)”.  

Been a while eh? I guess I thought it was time for part 10.

At this point I'm not even sure if I'm repeating or not, but let's be honest here for a sec... who cares? Right?

Let's start with a couple of birthday posts. How about JK's for JM's in 2022? And again JK using that bro... yeah ok...

Then we have JM's post for JK's birthday 2023. Are they trying to outdo each other?

Just two bros hanging (keep telling yourselves that, lol).

As much as we've seen and heard since, back in September 2023 this was big, even more so in the context to follow end of 2023.

Not as big as this though:

Nothing as 'subtle' like a couple's gift (and joint congrats love message).

Moving on, or more so moving back, seeing this was back in July 2023.

JM can handle it.

But then again, can he though?

our drool is showing JM...

Back to what JM can or can't handle... JK posting his back photo

Nothing suspicious about that though. Just a huge ass back and a necklace that JK apparently is not taking off even when working out. Funny how JK posted his bare back photo after JM was given a hard time by the regular haters for posting JK's bare back "without JK's permission" (the level of juvenile to even think that is a thing...).

So why, you may ask, is this finding it's way into this specific post?

Well, because of the post that directly followed JK's post.

Let's call it JM's spicy food post. The one JK so happily replied to as well.

And again, what's the big deal?

Well, there is no big deal, it's just a great intro into the next few Jikook not being so subtle moments.

Those two love it spicy...

And if we are already talking about this whole back and forth while JK was in NY, I guess I should also mention JM's favourite food: JK's Tteokbokki.

Not to mention JM letting us know his whereabouts the night before leaving for Jeju, JK returning from NY (second trip that month) only to cook for JM (Where he stayed the night and where we know JK didn't sleep all night)...

We wouldn't have known about it if JM hadn't told us. Let that sink in for a sec. All while thinking about all those other times they spent their days and/or nights together but didn't tell us about it (us hearing it months later).

Back to my old mantra just for a sec:

NOT SEEING THEM TOGETHER DOESN'T MEAN THEY AREN'T TOGETHER.

A mantra I feel like I won't have to repeat again in Chapter 3 post military service...

Yes, I sidetracked again. But then, what's new? You know me. At this point it's expect the expected, lol.

But...

If I already mentioned AYS, then it's only natural to continue with a few 'ever so 'subtle' moments we were blessed with in the show. Although, it's not the subtlety I'm really going for here...

Ok, I know what I said, but I am actually going to start with a moment that is on the subtle side. Subtle but so full of emotion. A moment that doesn't make you go 😮 but more so 🥹.

The whole train station and train ride is something special. Every single time I watch it I'm just sitting there with a huge ass smile on my face and that moment to culminate it all, when JK just sets his head on JM's shoulder is just such an AWW... moment.

When thinking about it, the entirety of Are you sure?! is one big Jikook being 'subtle' 'moment'. From start to end. Each trip had it's own special feel to it.

Connecticut was about a long needed time away together, all while trying to find a way to do their thing in a way that can be edited into a show, not to mention dealing with both JK and JM being sick.

Jeju being the second trip, the second time around, was easier for them to find that balance for the show, and having the unexpected guest emphasised even more just how different their interactions with each other were than either of them with Tae.

And Sapporo. Oh Sapporo. One last trip before enlistment. Following a private stay together in Tokyo. Same trip JK mentions at the end of episode 8. Sapporo is charged. It's happy and sweet and electric and melancholic and just everything. For all of us to see.

It's easier for me to link my AYS masterlist than trying to detail all the ahh and aww moments we got.

I just re-watched it all, again, and it's just really something else. To those who see them, so beautiful, so real, so raw. To those who haven't seen them yet, who haven't acknowledged what they mean to each other, what they are to each other, very revealing.

I came by this the other day:

What I would call regular army, anti shipper (has been very loud in the past, especially when it comes to TKK's behavior and delusions). And although she is super careful in not crossing that one line of stating "couple" and tends to go back to "friends" or "brothers" every single time she mentions something that is clearly MORE THAN... it's clear that she sees them. Their bond, their attachment, their love, their touches, their care, their safe space with each other. She is super careful not to say the words, but even so, at the very beginning while saying she's not interested in their romantic lives, and then she says: "all I want is for them to be happy and in whatever shape or form they decide to do that I will be supporting them". - A statement within itself!! Again, this tip toeing around what they truly are to each other (something that I can assure you would not be happening if the two were not 2 young men, but a heterosexual couple), continuously saying the words to describe exactly how special their relationship is, but then having to insert those safe words ("friends", "brothers") to play safe. What I can say is that army are seeing them!! What they tried to avoid for years and years was shoved in their faces, and they are seeing it, the brave ones even willing to admit it. What we saw for years, the way army clearly were ignoring JM and JK's bond (for many reason, first and utmost it being too obviously MORE than just two friends), is proving to be so much harder for them to do with AYS. And I think they are allowing themselves to be louder seeing that it's clear that JM and JK wanted us to see this, wanted to share this with us. Not that they haven't been for years, but it's much harder to avoid a full on 8 episode show showcasing their relationship.

Back to AYS.

As mentioned, there is just too much for me to share in one post. It is funny to me how hard they worked on making the show fit for PG.

But as PG as they tried to make it, there were definitely those moments that not only screamed "these two knock knees" - me trying to be demure today.

Nah, forget it...

They were just being outright GAY. No subtle to be found.

And why not mention some of them, you know, for the fun of it?

I still can't believe they left the bed scene from Connecticut in. As highly edited as it was.

We know they spent much more time in that bed, before JK ate and after JK ate. All either not filmed (JK switching camera on and off) or edited out. But what they left in, yeah, nothing subtle to be found there.

And what about JK telling JM to take his pants and underwear off at the restaurant?

Like what exactly for JK?

Would that be something you would say, even jokingly, to your mate? I don't think so.

JM's bf shot. Very "subtle" indeed.

Next couple of moments are just "what the actual fuck????" the most unsubtle that can be in the whole universe and beyond.

No, I really don't think I'm exaggerating.

I'll start with JK pulling JM's hair in the pool. Like, what the hell for? And in what world is that something friends joke about? Also, in what reality would a friend not only be cool about it, but also not flinch, not even a little, when his "friend" grabs him from the hair like that???? Even in the most playful mood that they might be in. You think Tae would be cool with it? Yeah-Nah!! 🤣🤣 Just visualising that...🤣🤣

I will tell you exactly when someone would be cool with it. When that "friend" is not only someone who you allow to pull your hair like that but also you are used to him pulling your hair like that. I will let you connect the dots from here on...

And what about this, eh?

Just sit there and picture the scene (which we obviously were not allowed to see in the show or the behinds... I wonder if there is footage of it hidden in a vault somewhere...). JM writing that on JK's chest. To be able to write that so clearly, unsmudged, straight lines, not runny...

So, here's the thing. It feels like that these two have taken subtle and chucked it out of the window.

I'm not sure where we are going exactly once they get out of the military, but it feels like we are striding in huge steps towards a new reality. One in which that little game they used to play with deniability, these boundaries they used to stretch and test the waters just how far they can move them and still have Army celebrating their heterosexuality, I feel like that game is over and done with. Idk, it's just a feeling that seems to be getting stronger with each step they have taken since they announced their joint enlistment.

Their joint enlistment, AYS, them showing up in each other's documentaries (however short of an appearance), the two shown together in the BTS documentary, their comments lately about each other, letting us know how close, how connected, how inseparable they are, even when they send congratulations to work associates. The hints. Like JK's eyes on that screen in JM's Who MV. The "Keep going" that is constantly associated with the two. The feeling is that there is something even bigger coming. And it's not only us Jikookers that are feeling it!!!

Idk about you guys, but I am super excited about what's waiting for us around the corner.

I think that part 10 of this series is a good place to end it. I know this one was more yap than anything else, but I guess that's what a final part of a series looks like, especially seeing that we are probably nearing a new reality with those two. An end of an era, so to speak. They are soon coming back to us and I'm feeling like we will have so much more to post about, speak about, subtle and very unsubtle moments. All of those are for a new series (hopefully).

29 days to go.

Less than a month guys!!!

[crystallizedtwilight]

this is a barrel appreciation post. he’s soft and gentle and kind and still mischievous and patient and i love him with my whole heart

your design is beautiful from his easygoing smile to your iconic fashion taste

please continue to bless us with barrel drawings

Thank you! I wanted to explore the softer aspects of him as he grew older since they've always been there. Whenever Barrel is on his own in other media he's relatively well-mannered (whereas the other two remain menaces lol). Lock and Shock's idea of fun is causing mischief and Barrel's idea of fun is being with them 💚

A look at Barrel on his own:

Context: The trio appear present in the scene below, but the player is given the option to approach each of them and talk to them individually. Presumably, Barrel is speaking out of earshot of the others.

Source: Kingdom Hearts

Context: The trio split up when they reach Christmas town. Lock climbs and topples over a Christmas tree, bringing a giant candy cane crashing down. Shock pushes some elves from their sleigh, steals it, and crashes it off a cliff. Barrel takes himself to an inn and politely orders himself some food. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to eat it as he runs away blushing when the elderly elf waitress kisses his cheek.

Source: Zero's Journey

Context: After a brief reunion on their quest to find Zero, the trio must split up once again and scatter in different directions. Barrel trips while running and a bunch of elves taunt him. Instead of being combative he runs away. Source: Zero's Journey

Context: The trio have loaded a bunch of toys from Christmas town onto a sleigh to take home for themselves. Lock and Shock ride upon their bounty while Barrel pulls the sleigh. Deciding their getaway would be faster if they could fly the sleigh like Santa, Shock orders Barrel to find Zero again. Barrel is eager to please, nodding in obedience, and searches the town to retrieve him. Zero licks his face happily when they meet. Source: Zero's Journey

The only other example I've seen of the trio splitting up is a brief chapter in the game Disney Magic Kingdoms, where the Mayor sets them on a trick-or-treating contest against each other.

The Mayor tells Barrel the rules first, to which Barrel responds he wasn't listening. At first I thought Barrel was being intentionally annoying out of a lack of respect for the Mayor but the next speech bubble after the scene change is "The Mayor had to tell me a couple times what the contest was, but I got the most important part..." which implies that Barrel just wasn't understanding/focusing lol

[dollarbils]

but baby, i | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your ex girlfriend, billie, can’t resist calling you a week after you’d broken up.

warnings. angst, fluff, suggestive

masterlist

‘if you go, i’m going too’

a sigh of relief was heard on the other end of the phone when you’d pressed the green button, spilling out a hesitant ‘hello’ as you held the phone up to your ear. There was no response however, lighting up a flame of irritation in you.

“Who is this?” was the next thing that fell from your lips, laced with hostility.

“baby,” it was quiet, soft and inviting. Emotions from the previous couple months all encompassed into the term of endearment.

“billie?” your voice softened at the realisation of who it was.

“deleted my number already have you?” she teased, but it didn’t make you smile, not in this moment.

“billie, what happened? are you okay?” the questions tumbled out in an attempt to comprehend the reason for her call. it had been a week since you’d broken up, and hearing her voice felt like you’d been taken back to last Friday.

“yeah no, nothing happened, i’m fine. i just..” she trailed off, gathering the courage to speak, or the bravery to do the right thing, and hang up. but she was weak, and so were you.

“yeah?” it was a plea for her to continue. a beg for her to speak the words you couldn’t.

“i miss you baby.” your eyes drifted shut, a flush rising to your cheeks.

“billie, this isn’t a good idea.” it was the truth neither of you wanted to hear.

“i don’t care.” she whined, desperation clear in her words.

“billie don’t say that.” she let out a sigh of frustration at your words.

“i know you missed me too, this week has been the shittiest week you could imagine.” and suddenly you found yourself drifting into your usual conversation, like you would’ve a week ago.

“i’m sorry bils, how can i help?” it was a stupid question and you’d realised soon enough. all of this would eventually lead you back to her.

“you know how.” it was a confession in itself, revealing what she hoped to get from this call.

“tell me. whatever you need, i’ll do it.” you couldn’t reject her, not now, not ever. she had been everything for you, and she still was.

“come over, please.” her request was simple but it meant so much.

“are you sure?” her answer would decide your future, because it was clear what would happen if you complied with her wish.

“i need you.” those three words were deadly, they represented so many things all at once. they could be interpreted as multiple meanings.

“fuck,” it was a sigh of submission, giving in to her. and everything you’d previously given up. “i’ll be there in ten.”

‘cause it was always you’

the silence that followed the knock on her door, was deafening. leaving too much space for you to fall into the pit of doubt, that was still very much prominent. when the door finally opened, she stood in front of you, her perfect eyes attaching themselves to yours. then she smiled, engulfing you in a gentle hug, holding you as if you might break.

“billie.” it pulled her out of her state of daydreaming, grounding her with the realisation that this didn’t mean the beginning of a new chapter.

“i’m so sorry.” the apology was long overdue, but when she closed the door behind you, inviting you back in, none of that mattered.

“i know, but i need your promise, that we’ll be okay this time. i can’t go through breaking up with you again. i won’t survive it this time.” your throat closed up, signalling you to stop talking before your feelings spill out of your eyes, in front of her.

“of course angel, i understand. i’ll give you whatever you need.” she held your face in her hands, confirming her words at the slight rub of her thumb, over your cheeks.

“i need your devotion, your love.”

“but baby, i..” she paused for a second, pondering on wether her next words were ones she’d later regret. but she soon brushed the doubt away, releasing herself from its constraints, confessing her truth. “i’ll love you ‘til the day that i die.”

when she brought her lips to yours they were warm, inviting. they connected and moulded together as your bodies inched closer.

‘and if i’m turning blue, please don’t save me’

the heat from her breath, warming the patches of skin tainted by her tongue, as she ran it across your naked body. her lips attached to yours nipples, and then your clit. devoting herself to your pleasure. expressing her love for your body.

‘nothing left to lose, without my baby.’

and when your mind lost itself in her affection, focusing on her tongue buried deep inside you hole, you felt connected. birds of a feather destined to reach for each other in times of difficulty. destined to end up in each others’ embrace in times of despair.

‘we should stick together.’

[1800titz]

FETISH MASTERLIST

The one in which there's an interesting blog focused on a niche genre of soft-core pornography, two next-door neighbors in an apartment complex with paper-thin walls, a simple case of misinterpretation, a man that runs from intimacy like there's an award waiting at the invisible finish line, and a pet bunny called Snuggles.

The early access spanko fic ♡ | get ahead here

wattpad alt | PATREON MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 1 ←→ wattpad alt

the pilot episode feat. a simple misinterpretation of consensual kink as violence

“I called the police on you,” she tells him, utter dismay lacing the words together.  “You did, yeah.” Harry still remembers the blank expression varnished along the officer’s face— the kind of emotionally vacant stare reserved for department store mannequins. The echo of the distant, metaphysical NOPE that definitely rode along his brainstem the moment the curly-haired brunette mentioned “it’s a kink thing,” and the way his partner, hands allocated to his holster belt, started very obviously examining his own shoes.  “I thought—“ Y/N stutters, her wobbling voice sounding squeezed from her trachea, “I thought—“

“You thought you were living next door to a criminal,” Harry supplies. When he tilts his head, a rogue curl flops over his forehead.

CHAPTER 2 ←→ wattpad alt

There are things about a next-door neighbor that one should not, under any circumstances, ever discover— how long, exactly, his refractory period lasts; what kind of guttural, wrecked sound crawls from the pit of his chest mid-orgasm; the way his inky, toned forearm looks, flexing, right before he plants a bruising smack to someone’s ass, punctuating the reciprocal whimper with a low, devious hum. 

Unfortunately, Y/N is now acquainted with all three— two by forcible default and one by self-destructive curiosity. 

CHAPTER 3 ←→ wattpad alt

Only a couple of days ago, he’d stepped out to water his plants and overheard a group of girls, unbeknownst to his eavesdropping— a circle of collegiate roommates, as far as he understands, given that he’s heard them discuss Kappa Sigma’s infamous Brett’s cock in disgustingly avid detail (is girth more important than integrity? The world may never know)— conversing out on the balcony right beneath his own. Once, he’d sat through four whole minutes of what sounded like an intervention about “the ethics of fucking your lab partner for Adderall.” The conversation wasn’t nearly enthralling enough to stomach more before he finished his joint and went back inside, but this time, the snippet he hears gives him pause. He stands still with his watering can in his hand, hovering over Monte (a bushy thing that’s tripled in size since he first acquired it from the plant nursery), and his pink mouth slowly settles into a grimace the longer he listens.  “I heard he was on house arrest, but they removed the ankle monitor early.” “No, no, he’s just in witness protection. But like, bad at it.” “Wait, I thought he was an ex-cop?” “No, he’s a dom.” “…A what?” “A dom. You know. A professional one.” “Like a dominatrix?” “Isn’t that just a woman?” “I don’t know, I just know he runs one of those torture chambers and probably wears leather.” “Holy shit, Jess.” When someone else tacks on, after an awed pause, “…Do you think there’s a sign-up sheet we could hit?” and a peal of girlish giggles erupts, the man literally has to muscle down his eye roll. The last group of people he wants on his roster are a freshly-legal coalition of matching crop tops with vodka breath.

It’s not exactly his ideal demographic.

CHAPTER 4 ←→ wattpad alt

“He was an asshole,” Y/N delivers the context with a blink, waving her hand as if to clear the slate of his lingering ego trail. Her lashes flutter like she's recalibrating for the shift in energy, and she gestures with her head into the direction of the cooler beside him, “There’s a fridge right next to you.” “Right,” Harry purses his mouth, knocking his bare knuckle against the counter softly as he cocks his head, “but that’s self-service. I’m looking for a bit more hospitality.” A creeping heat wells in her the longer his eyes stay pinned and smogs her head. “Right. Well. We have coffee, and,” she juts her chin, “…things…”

“Coffee and things,” his eyebrows climb as he nods at the elusive explanation, lids falling to a teasing half-mast, “That’s very insightful.”

CHAPTER 5 > coming (06/24/25) OR access here now

[nikid-aze]

CANCELLED. 💢 — lee heeseung.

SYNOPSIS. Being a well known influencer those days can be kind of dangerous, one sentence out of context and you got cancelled, a thing that wasn’t bothering lee heeseung, a streamer and youtuber with more that one million followers. Sadly, his situation get even worse when he tried to shit talk about you — a well known writer and loved person on internet — and he start to wonder if he actually did the good choice when talking about your upcoming book on his last video. And the worst was the spam of message you got from him in the evening, trying to make it up for his harsh words about your work — or mostly you.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ lee heeseung x reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 kim sunoo, nishimura riki, park sunghoon, choi soobin, choi yeonjun & kang taehyun (txt), probably others idols added there..!

genre﹙💬﹚⸝⸝⸝ serie, romance, strangers to enemies/haters, enemies/haters to lovers, fanfiction, written chapter (!!), multiple chapters

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ mention of drinking, smoking, sexual jokes, drug use, , enhypen’s members being crackhead in this (??), probably other being added there soon..!

words count ‎⸝⸝⸝ 1318 💢

taglist ‎⸝⸝⸝ @sunnygirl-kait @chaheehee @doveblackboat @wonzzziezzzz be added to the taglist 💢 hope you would love this serie omgg

rains’ note ‎⸝⸝⸝ screaming rn because what do you mean I’m in love with my writing ? anyways 🫣 does heeseung is a complete dumbass in this serie ? Kind of yes, do I like it ? Absolutely. Will you like it ? Probably (I’m not 100% sure rn), so i’ll give a try with this short teaser/intro in hope that it would interest some of you ! don’t forget that you can comment below (I would appreciate it !💋)

MASTERLIST | NEXT >>

Heeseung himself couldn't say what had strangely driven the popularity of his YouTube channel or his livestreams, which were increasingly being watched by an unimaginable number of people. In truth, platforms like YouTube and Twitch were so complex that making a place among the biggest on these two platforms sometimes had something to do with a miracle.

For Heeseung, all this was understood while he himself was completely incomprehensible, his first name quickly finding itself trending as more and more people started tweeting about him — or about his latest livestreams.

At first, he simply thought it was because he had miraculously managed to attract the attention of young women — and a few men — with his charisma and his angelic, captivating face — not that he was narcissistic about himself, but that was one of the hypotheses that crossed his mind one evening.

All of this finally came crashing down when he realized that his so-called "popularity" was due to a clip from one of his recent livestreams, where he unfortunately got the idea to talk about another content creator and streamer — whom he could totally consider a colleague, given their shared personal interests or the numerous comments they had during each stream. Indeed, while Heeseung was a genuinely interesting person to listen to during his "what's up in hee's life" livestreams, where he mostly talked about the stream and interacted with his viewers, he sometimes tended to overlook his words — which were mostly simply insults or comments that a well-known and influential person shouldn't be saying.

The victim of this stream was @sunghoonshouse. Heeseung found himself making hateful comments toward Sunghoon — his real name — after noticing that his chat kept mentioning him or making allusions about him. In just one search and a quick glance at his channel, Heeseung had made comments he would normally never have made.

How had he reacted when he noticed that his first name or that clip of him was constantly circulating on Twitter or any other app? He had laughed when he read people spitting at him in the comments. After all, despite his comments about his work "colleague," Heeseung had noticed how his first name was plastered everywhere, thus unwittingly creating immense publicity for him, which he would undoubtedly take advantage of.

The idea of ​​being canceled by his new — and in truth, first — haters didn't bother him at all. He would simply need to make a quick message in his next stream, or yes, instead of addressing his community or anyone watching him live, he would address Sunghoon directly, then apologize for his words, which had "gone beyond his thought and reflection" — explaining that he had supposedly spoken without thinking and that he hadn't meant them.

The days following his apology had been nothing but magnificent proof that, despite his apologies, Heeseung would not stop acting without thinking and saying whatever came to mind, even if it was only negative and completely hateful remarks, whether it was about a public figure, viewers of his own streams — who had supposedly annoyed him at the right time — or even topics that weren't as important.

Having realized that each thing he could say would earn him a little more popularity each time, Heeseung had strangely started to create a routine for himself. Creating a situation or saying things that could or would be intended to provoke a reaction, noting the clips in question being shared on social media as if they were THE last thing anyone needed to know about — which tended to bring a lot of people back to his streams in the following days — and once everything had settled down, making a video or dedicating a portion of his future stream to an apology message, explaining that, once again, he had indeed gone too far and that his words had gone beyond his thoughts.

Was this really the right thing to do?

Was this really the right thing to do? Absolutely not. Was it an effective way to gain popularity? In a way. Were the reactions and the number of haters that would make him do it? Certainly not. Did he have the minimum of respect to stop acting this way? Yes and no at the same time.

Being a child in a child's body, it wasn't surprising for Heeseung to apologize for such a serious remark, and then start over the following days as if nothing had happened the previous days.

Was he forgiven? Strangely, and although it may seem completely unthinkable, yes. Most of his followers followed him simply because they appreciated this side of Heeseung. Or was it simply because he was too handsome to leave the world of YouTube or the Twitch platform. And quickly, after a few months Heeseung had exceeded millions of followers, whether on YouTube or Twitch, and was no longer a YouTuber and Steamer video gamer, but was considered a content creator "shitposter", that is to say that he published what he wanted regardless of the impact of his videos.

The funniest thing about his rapid rise to popularity on his platforms was that Sunghoon — the content creator Heeseung had openly criticized — had become one of his close friends, with whom he occasionally streamed or organized videos, but he was also his roommate. This meant that Heeseung and Sunghoon's communities must have seen the friendship gradually develop, which certainly caused some reactions.

What did you think of this famous Heeseung? He didn't bother you much; in truth, you didn't know much about him beyond the numerous clips you saw circulating on Twitter that showed what kind of person he was. A hypocrite who used hatred towards others or almost homophobic or misogynistic remarks to draw attention to himself.

A true thoughtless jerk. That's what could have best represented him from your point of view, even if you'd never actually watched a single one of his streams or videos. Truth be told, the entertainment you saw on Twitter every weekend kept you busy enough that you didn't intend to watch even a single one of his streams in the future.

And even if one day the idea did come to mind, you didn't have the time. Unfortunately, books don't write themselves — at least not since you'd started writing, much to your dismay — and so you spent most of your time writing, editing, and rewriting sections of your future novel.

Well... that was before you received a message from one of your best friends — Taehyun — who strangely begged you to start Heeseung's current livestream because, according to him, you needed to hear his words right now, not after you'd gone to bed.

Quickly, you left your writing file to log into Twitch, and despite yourself, you had to click on Heeseung's channel to see that he was indeed streaming.

The next click left you frozen, staring at your screen as your lips parted, unable to believe what he was currently saying. The fact that your name had left his lips was practically unimaginable, but what followed had made you furious.

"An unsuccessful author who only wrote about depression and high school romances. Seriously, who would read such crap? I think you, like me, don't have time to waste reading books like this and would rather, for example, devote our time to the latest F1 race that was announced."

How could a man like him — a loser who locks himself in his room to chat in front of a camera — have the audacity to talk about you, and your upcoming book? You couldn't even believe how stupid he'd talked about you, describing you as a shitty author who only wrote about depression? This was a joke you were playing; it couldn't be explained any other way. Never, ever had you felt so humiliated and smeared as you did right now, when you weren't even in the same room as this idiot who was playing it.

[fernwehreader]

The Narrative Framing of the Ribbon in ACOSF

Lately, I’ve been giving more thought to the intentionality of SJM introducing the mating ceremony ribbon in the same book we first meet Gwyn, who introduces the Valkyrie ribbon.  Because, to me, the decision seems wholly purposeful rather than coincidental.  The presentation of these two details in the same text would be significant enough on its own--but it goes beyond that.  I think it’s mostly about the narrative framing taking place within the context of the ribbon, which sets the scene for Azriel and Gwyn.  There is a “story within a story” being introduced, even if it is limited by the points-of-view we’re given access to in ACOSF.

To start, I find it incredible that we were given 3.5 texts set in the ACOTAR world which included detailed information about mating bonds, but our first mention of the mating ceremony ribbon is not until ACOSF when we are told that, for Nesta: 

. . . all that mattered, she realized, was the male who would be standing with her, first as they swore their vows, then as they offered each other food, and then as their friends and family bound their hands together with a length of black ribbon to remain until the mating was consummated.

Prior to ACOSF, we were already aware of the vows and the offering of food as necessary components of a formal mating bond acceptance.  But the information about the binding of hands with a ribbon is new.  And not only does it take four books to let the reader know this new information, but it's introduced in the same text in which Gwyn establishes the Valkyrie ribbon:

“Done,” Gwyn declared, the white ribbon fluttering in the wind where it hung from the beam.  Behind them, a few of the priestesses working with Azriel had turned to see what the ribbon business was about.  The shadowsinger crossed his arms, angling his head, but remained in his half of the ring.

I love this moment because we not only get this great visual of the ribbon in the wind, but we also get these extra details about Azriel amid Gwyn’s successful installation of her ribbon.  Why do we need to know all of this about Azriel?  What does it matter how he responds?

This intertwining of Azriel and Gwyn within the introduction of the Valkyrie ribbon continues, however, when Cassian asks Gwyn and Emerie to show him what they learned with blades while he and Nesta were away on their hike.  Cassian says:

“Az told me you also started preliminary work with the steel blades while we were gone.”  He nodded to Gwyn and Emerie, the former glancing toward Azriel, who watched in silence.  “So show me what you learned.  Cut the ribbon in two.” “We slice the ribbon in two,” Emerie asked Gwyn warily, “and our training is complete?” Gwyn again glanced to Azriel, who drifted closer.  She said, “I’m not entirely sure.”

Once again, narrative framing is happening here--something separate from the main narrative between Nesta and Cassian.  Why does the reader need to know that Gwyn is glancing at Azriel repeatedly?  Why does Azriel drift closer the second time?  

We must keep in mind that this scene is in Nesta’s point-of-view, and she and Cassian have just returned after being away from the House of Wind for a week.  It’s clear that the reader is missing some context which happened off the page.  I think this is even more obvious a little earlier in the chapter, before Gwyn finishes hanging the ribbon:

Gwyn snickered, her attention fixed on tying a length of white silk ribbon to a wood beam jutting from the side of the pit.  Neither the ribbon nor the beam had been there a week ago, and Nesta had no idea how they’d even anchored the wood into the stone, but there it was.

This paragraph has always stood out to me (I actually made a pencil notation next to it during my first reading of ACOSF in 2021).  I have a lot of questions here.  

I do believe Nesta’s narration is in part meant to clue the reader in to the fact that the wood beam and ribbon are new additions to training for everyone, not just for her and Cassian since they missed the prior week.  We have no idea what has taken place during Valkyrie training in their absence--so the confirmation that all of this is new is important.  But, I do think the specificity of what Nesta is focused on during this observation is notable.  She wonders “how they’d even anchored the wood into the stone.”  

I’d argue this is Nesta trying to nudge the reader to wonder about this, as well (perhaps also in the same way she is nudging the reader in HOFAS that, yes, we should be curious about Azriel after Bryce’s questioning about his romantic life, lol).  

But, Nesta does bring up an interesting point here.  In fact, I’d also like to know how the wood beam was anchored into the stone.  This seems to be Gwyn’s project given the fact she answers all questions about it.  So, did Gwyn do this all by herself?  Is Gwyn skilled with masonry tools to make this happen?   

While the answers to those questions aren’t known, what is perfectly clear is that there is some important information that the reader is missing in Chapter 51 of ACOSF.  But, we can only make inferences at this point--we have to evaluate the evidence given to us in this chapter to figure out what pieces we are missing from the puzzle.  Even though conclusions aren’t explicitly stated in the text, I do think there are enough literary clues to point us in a likely direction.  And, I think this is most easily accomplished through the process of elimination.   

Gwyn clearly is the project leader when it comes to this entire business with the ribbon.  As noted in the excerpts above, she is the one who hangs the ribbon, who explains it all to Cassian when he asks for clarification, and who answers Emerie’s question about it.

But, who else knows what is going on in these moments based on the evidence we are given?

Cassian and Nesta have no idea what’s going on: through their POVs, we know they have been away from training and the House of Wind for the past week, and Cassian tells Gwyn to “explain” when he sees the ribbon.  

Emerie has no idea what’s going on: we know this for sure when Gwyn answers Cassian’s request to explain:

Gwyn squared her shoulders.  “This is the Valkyrie test for whether your training is    complete and you’re ready for battle: cut the ribbon in half.” Emerie snorted.  “What?”

But, Emerie’s lack of awareness of what Gwyn is doing is also emphasized in the earlier excerpt where she asks Gwyn warily if their training is complete once they slice the ribbon in two.  Emerie clearly has no idea what Gwyn has been up to or the purpose of the ribbon.  

The other priestesses have no idea what is going on:  this is shown when Gwyn finishes hanging the ribbon and “a few of the priestesses working with Azriel had turned to see what the ribbon business was about.”  It’s obvious that these priestesses are as clueless as Nesta, Cassian, and Emerie in this moment.

So the last question remains: Does Azriel know what’s going on?

This is where we have to make some inferences based on our context clues and literary evidence from this chapter.  I would argue that, yes, Azriel has some understanding of what is happening regarding Gwyn and the ribbon.  He doesn’t seem particularly confused or curious when he “crossed his arms” and “remained on his half of the ring” when Gwyn finished hanging the ribbon.  We see elsewhere in ACOSF (and in his bonus chapter) that Azriel’s eyes narrow when his shadows whisper to him or when he’s trying to understand a situation.  However, his body language in this moment after the ribbon is hung does not indicate to me that he’s caught off guard in any way.  

At the very least, he is aware of what Gwyn was planning to have ready for training this day.  After all, he is the spymaster.  But at most, he was actively involved in helping Gwyn with these preparations.

Am I willing to make the claim that Azriel anchored the wood beam to the stone (or at least helped) because Gwyn asked him–or because he mentioned it to her in the first place?  Well . . . kind of?  It’s an inference based on the evidence the text has given us.  Somebody had to set up the wood beam.  It’s possible Gwyn did it alone--but anchoring a wooden beam into stone is likely a two-person job.

So, based on that, I argue that Gwyn did have help.  If Nesta, Emerie, Cassian, and the other priestesses have no idea what is going on with the ribbon, we are left with very few options for who Gwyn would feel comfortable asking for help.  So, who may have helped her with this? I think we all know who.

I believe we also have another context clue to help answer this question.  When Cassian asks Gwyn and Emerie to cut the ribbon, the narration tells us that Gwyn glances at Azriel two different times.  The second instance seems quite notable after Emerie ask if their training will be finished if they cut the ribbon.

Gwyn again glanced to Azriel, who drifted closer.  She said, “I’m not entirely sure.”  

I cannot fathom why Gwyn is continuing to glance at Azriel here for any other reason than affirmation--or, perhaps wanting backup.  She seems unsure in this moment.  Cassian notes that Azriel informed him that Gwyn and Emerie also started training with blades while he was away.  That doesn’t sound like it was part of the training plan.  So why the change?  

Gwyn glances to Azriel when Cassian says this about the steel training, so it leads me to wonder whose idea it was to hang the ribbon in the first place.  How does Gwyn find out about the Valkyrie ribbon cutting?  I could be mistaken, but I don’t recall her discussing that information during any conversations with Nesta.  Does she discover it off page and bring it to Azriel’s attention?  Does Azriel tell her about this Valkyrie training method?  Essentially, there are valid questions.

We are left with some answers, however, because Gwyn is admittedly unsure of how to answer Emerie’s question above--and Azriel “drifted closer” to Gwyn after Emerie asks it.  We can’t be entirely certain what has happened off page in Nessian’s absence, but if we look closely at what Nesta’s POV is giving us in this chapter, I think we can make two, strong inferences:

Something happened off page related to initiating the Valkyrie ribbon cutting method

 It’s intentional and meant to provide specific context around Azriel and Gwyn

Which brings us back to the narrative framing conversation from earlier.  Although a traditional frame narrative is set up to be a true “story within a story” like what we see in Wuthering Heights or The Princess Bride, I argue that this narrative is establishing a frame around Azriel and Gwyn through the ribbon symbolism in ACOSF.  Their “story within a story” can’t quite fully happen here given the narrative constraints of ACOSF--but it is being set up and framed in the background despite these constraints.  I feel like I keep coming back to this in all of my posts, but it’s just one more reason why I think ACOTAR5 is Azriel’s novel.  The narrative threads in ACOSF, setting up the continuity for the next novel, are too great to ignore in my opinion.

And while Chapter 51 is a fascinating study on the development of this narrative framing, it doesn’t just end here.  The Valkyries continue working towards the goal of slicing the ribbon, but we are given key information about Gwyn as things progress:

“You and that ribbon,” Nesta muttered, shutting the tome.  Of all of them, Gwyn had become the most relentless about succeeding. 

This is interesting because, yes, it is showing us how competitive Gwyn is--but SJM is making sure we understand that Gwyn is persistent about this and wants to be the first one to accomplish it.  It’s reiterated further in Azriel’s bonus chapter when Azriel stumbles upon Gwyn late at night, alone at the training pit.

“I was trying to cut the ribbon.”  She pointed with her sword at the white ribbon, which seemed to glow silver.

Of all the things for Gwyn to be doing when Azriel comes upon her on Solstice, he finds her practicing her ribbon cutting technique.  Once again, their “story within a story” is being picked up within the narrative framing of the ribbon.  Gwyn is at the training pit because of the ribbon.   So, then, it is a deliberate choice--SJM could have had Gwyn performing any other training task, or Azriel could have found her reading within the House proper.  Instead, their entire interaction is based around the ribbon.  

Then, because of this impromptu ribbon training session, Azriel gives Gwyn the corrections needed to successfully cut the ribbon.  Again, Gwyn is determined and likely would have cut the ribbon on her own at some point.  But that’s not what happens.  She completes the task only a few days after her Solstice encounter with Azriel, where his corrections are directly tied to her success which follows soon after.  There is a narrative thread connecting Gwyn to Azriel during this momentous accomplishment.

But, of course, SJM doesn’t just leave it alone there.  The narrative framing around Gwyn and Azriel continues in very intentional ways in this scene.  Before Gwyn cuts the ribbon:

Cassian glanced over at Az, but his attention was fixed on the young priestess, admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face. . . .  Azriel went wholly still, as if he, too, had felt the shift.  As if he, too, were aware that far larger forces peered into that training ring as Gwyn moved.  

While Nesta and Emerie have interactions with Gwyn in this scene, and Cassian notes his own emotions at watching Gwyn, the descriptions we get of Azriel within Cassian’s POV might as well have flashing neon signs around them.  As everyone watches Gwyn and waits for her to move, no other character gets this type of attention.  SJM wants us to be aware of this “story within the story.”  She wants us to know what Azriel is doing in this moment--and what he is doing goes beyond an interested observation.  Specific language is being used to show the reader that Azriel is focused on Gwyn, invested in her success, and easily affected by the enormity of the moment . . . which is, again, entirely centered around the ribbon.

Finally, even one of Azriel and Gwyn’s last scenes together in ACOSF plays by the rules of their narrative framing--it provides context to their story setup by invoking the ribbon once again.  When the Blood Rite qualifier is arranged and the Valkyries fail their first attempt, we get a twist on how the ribbon is used . . . perhaps intentionally to further establish the narrative continuity for their upcoming novel, since this is one of the last moments we get between the two characters.

Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him.  “See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,” she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement.  When he turned back, Nesta grinned.  “You have no idea what you just started, she said.  Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. “Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?”  Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder.  “You’re the new ribbon, Az.”

So, while the narrative framing around Gwyn and Azriel remains intact and ready to serve as a bridge to ACOTAR5, we have a shift in how the ribbon is being used--it is now a symbol to indicate what Gwyn is now focused on.  And, I’ll take it a step further to suggest it is a clue for readers to know what to expect as the “story within a story” becomes the primary story being told.  It’s providing a prologue, and setting expectations, for what can be anticipated as the couple’s narrative framing begins to take a different shape.  

Ultimately, the ribbon’s recurrence throughout ACOSF works as a subtle but deliberate narrative device.  In a book where Nesta and Cassian’s bond takes center stage, SJM still takes the time to weave in the image of a ribbon being tied, sliced, and shared between Gwyn and Azriel.  Their encounters with it are quiet, yet loaded with so much narrative weight.  And these moments carve out that “story within a story” . . . one that is not quite in bloom but in which the seeds have been planted.  The framing is unmistakable: Gwyn and Azriel are characters on the threshold of a story that will belong only to them.    

Finally, that this symbolism shares space with the notion of a mating ceremony ribbon is no coincidence.  The mating bond ribbon is framed as a sacred act of a union–intimate and final.  Gwyn’s ribbon, by contrast, is one of defiance and shared effort . . . a nod to perhaps how one ribbon might one day become something more.

[bennetsbonnet]

I'm currently reading Eavesdropping on Jane Austen's England: How Our Ancestors Lived Two Centuries Ago by historians Roy and Lesley Adkins and it's a very well researched and informative book, which I highly recommend if you already know a lot about Jane Austen's life and works, but want to understand the context of her novels and how society functioned at the time.

I have to share this passage from the chapter about childbirth, which details a naval officer's response to learning that his wife had given birth while he was away at sea... because it made me think of a certain Austen couple:

It was not unusual for fathers to be absent from home when their children were born, and it took some time for the news to reach William Wilkinson, at sea in the navy, that he was a father. Finally he held the letter that his sister-in-law Fanny Platt had excitedly written from their lodgings at Kensington in London, a few hours after his daughter's birth. 'Heartily do I wish you were now here,' she said, that we might congratulate with each other on the happy arrival of your little daughter. It was born at 17 minutes past 9 o'clock this 9th day of Nov [1807].' Fanny next gave William an affectionate description: 'the precious Babe, [she] is, I think, the loveliest little creature I ever saw. [Her] eyes are dark and beautifully bright, [her] nose and chin we all agree in our opinion as to their being exactly like your own. [She] has a pretty little head with a good bit of hair, which is very dark. [She] is in good health and so plump you cannot think.' William was extremely happy, and early the next year he wrote to his wife: 'in my Prayer Book (which I keep in my desk) I have your hair, Baby's and a piece of my own. I cut mine off the other day to see the contrast. They are all in a small piece of fine India paper... and they do look very pretty, yours light, mine dark, and Baby's between both.'

After reading this, now I can't stop thinking about Captain Wentworth cutting off a piece of his hair and placing it next to a lock of Anne's hair (that he brought to sea with him so she'd be with him in some way) and a piece of their newborn baby daughter's hair!

It hurts to imagine them separated for such an important moment but if duty called and Wentworth was forced to go away, this is exactly how I imagine he would deal with the separation.