#next time pls provide reason why you’re asking! ^^;;;

[pyjamacryptid]

Oh I thought you were shipping the bbc versions because a post you reblogged had the x version tagged, glad that’s not the case & thank you for explaining ^^

Lol I had a feeling there was context behind why you asked but I couldn’t fathom what, because I certainly don’t ship them, in bbcm or otherwise 😆 I thought “I may as well infodump about arthuriana like the nerd I am”.

I can totally see why you were confused, though! I’ve been in the same boat lol

The use of the [blank] x [blank] tags have confused me so much recently, if I’m being honest, especially on gifsets and stuff like it. Because when I was first learning fandom etiquette, lingo and what-have-you, the x was equivalent to a / (slash) and indicated a romantic ship. On the other hand, the & (ampersand) indicated a platonic relationship.

After a while, I’ve kind of gathered the ‘x’ is being used, kind of, as a huge umbrella symbol for pairings in general (no matter the relationship)??? Maybe? At least with gifsets etc on tumblr. Idk I’m still a little confused tbh because I still see the X used as I originally learned how elsewhere, all the same. So, with it no longer having an exact definition, I get a little lost lmao. I can imagine there’s likely an archival/tagging reason behind it but I can only guess.

Anyway, yeah! Thank you for sending an ask to clarify before anything else and I’m always happy to answer! 🥰

EDIT:

Because I feel it’s important to say, I just wanted to add that fandom’s use of language and shorthand is open to change like any language is. For example, Spock and Kirk’s romantic ship was (and still is) referred to as simply K/S. Now, it’s also known as spirk. So, from what I’ve seen on Tumblr lately anyway, it’s very likely that the use of the ‘x’ in place of a slash is changing and is no longer definitive to only romance, like it used to be. Also, some people may just not be aware of the meanings behind fandom shorthand too! Always a possibility. Fandom’s always growing and changing and you don’t exactly get a manual at the entrance lol

[irisintheafterglow]

Heyy, can I request best friends to lovers with suguru geto pls? Maybe where reader is helping on the star plasma mission but gets a little jealous of Riko bc sugu is so focused on the mission that he hasn't spent much personal time with her?

Also! I adore the fic where sugu and reader are best friends on a mission together! Good work 👏

dazzling haze, mysterious way about you, dear

summary: on your last night on the star plasma mission, a trip for water becomes an interrogation.

wc: 1.5k

cw/tags: best friends to lovers, swearing, mild angst, satoru is the king of being unserious and you're having none of it

note: so many suguru fics that i will gladly provide🫡 also i'm sorry this took so long, i just started fall semester so my time has been a little limited lately. but thank you for the ask, i hope you like it!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated :D

It’s chilly in Okinawa, much colder than you imagined it would be. Despite the comfortable airflow of AC in your part of the hotel suite, something about the environment still felt stifling. It felt too empty, the bed too big and the sheets too barren. Water, you decide. Let’s get water and some fresh air.

Your intentions are abruptly thwarted by an idiot in the sitting room.

“Aw, come to check if I was okay?” Why do I even bother? You turn on your heel and head back in the direction of your bedroom, leaving Satoru pretzeled in his armchair. You’d just have to figure out how to fall asleep a different way, one that didn’t involve a change of scenery. Still, a loud whisper calls out to you as you make your way back down the hallway. “Hey, wait! Why are you actually up?” Giving him a skeptical look, your shoulder finds the side of the door frame and you cross your arms defensively. 

“Couldn’t sleep, duh. Why else would I be out here?” 

“Okay, grumpy, don’t duh me. I’m just wondering since you usually sleep the deepest out of all of us. Well, you and maybe…” His voice trails off and you watch the gears start to turn in his head. He knew there would be only one reason why you weren’t sleeping well. You shoot him a sour look preemptively and he narrows his eyes in suspicion. “Is something wrong between you and–”

“Alright, stop talking,” you state bluntly, pushing off the wall and finding your way to the corner of a sofa next to him. You want to slap the arrogant, aware-of-his-victory smirk off his face, but the daggers you’re staring into him are deflected by a shield of self-satisfaction. “Stop smiling like that, asshole.”

“Sorry, I just can’t help but laugh in the face of your suffering,” he shrugs with a patronizing lilt to his voice. You scoff and throw a pillow at him, to which he catches with one hand. Infinity off, you notice. He never turns on Infinity if it’s you, or Shoko, or Suguru with him. “Both my best friends are idiots in love, and both are suffering!”

“I think suffering is a little much.”

“Nope. It’s a little embarrassing, really.” His tone has turned to unabashed teasing and your face heats a little bit from pure indignancy. There’s no way Satoru put two and two together, right? Shoko’s epiphany was understandable; she seemed to always be watching, someway or another. Nanami only learned because Haibara figured it out first. You weren’t, however, anticipating the king of living in his own world to confront you. You put up a wall of confusion to hide the fact that he was poking dangerously close to your greatest secret. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. Or do, I don’t really care. This is entertaining.” He flashes a condescending grin that makes your blood boil. Yet, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t find the courage to leave. Retreating felt like running away, and you were determined to withstand Satoru’s stubbornness. 

“You are the biggest asshole to walk this Earth, Gojo Satoru,” you bite, shrinking away a little bit when uncannily blue eyes burn into your retinas. Unease sits in your stomach as he stares at you like he knows every single one of your thoughts and memories. It’s a feeling you wouldn’t wish on anyone, being the sole target of the strongest sorcerer on the planet. It had your forehead perspiring and knee bouncing unconsciously.

“And you are utterly in love with Geto Suguru,” he states. 

“How would you know that?” You sputter, immediately back on the defensive. 

“How could I not? You’re staring at him eight days a week, 25 hours a day.” You wish you could summon a fork from your domain and stab his stupidly determined eyes. Still, you think gaslighting the strongest sorcerer and your nosy best friend is a plausible option. 

“You’re out of your mind.” He sticks out his tongue defiantly. 

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not, no take-backs.” You groan and lean back into the cushions, a hand coming up to cover your tired eyes. “So, are you mad at him or something?” 

“I don’t owe you any explanation,” you snap, but with significantly less fervor than before. He’d caught you. 

“You don’t,” Satoru agrees. “But, I also know you’re dying to get it off your chest.” You peek out at him from behind your fingers and he’s still staring at you expectantly. “Well?” You exhale deeply before speaking, stalling the inevitable. 

“I’m…angry?” It’s more of a question than a statement and he snorts haughtily. 

“You don’t sound very sure.” 

“I hate you,” you glare. Of course, he wouldn’t take seriously anything you’re trying to verbalize.

“No, you don’t. Continue,” he ushers you on with a wave of his hand. “Why are you angry?”

“It’s dumb,” you mutter indignantly, silently praying he gets bored and drops the subject. However, the honored one is relentless.  

“You have a crush on Suguru. Can’t get much dumber than that.”

“What about being jealous when we aren’t in a relationship?” 

“You don’t need to be in a relationship to be jealous, you know.”

“Yeah, but it feels so wrong to want him when we’re supposed to be focused on the mission. I just want to make sure he’s okay.” 

“And, you want him to make sure you’re okay?” He’s right on the money and you despised it. 

“I guess so.”

“You know, he already does that about four million times a day,” he says, like the information should be obvious to you. “Check on you, ask if you ate, bring you water, the usual. It's up to you how you want to interpret that, but I think it's clear as glass.”

You exhale again, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands. “I don’t know what to do, Satoru. I can't think clearly when he's around and I feel so immature.” 

“You’re not asking the right person for advice, you know.” You stiffen at the voice coming from the darkness of the hallway, his voice. Three thousand trains of thought derail all at once when he steps out into the moonlight of the room, looking absolutely stunning despite having just woken up. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, but you must be really desperate if you’re going to Satoru for advice before me,” he jokes as he sits down next to you on the sofa. He’s in such close proximity that you can feel the warmth radiating off his body and faintly smell his shampoo. 

“And the world must be ending if the deepest sleepers I know are both awake at the same time,” Satoru adds, shooting you a knowing look for half a second before returning his focus to Suguru. “If you two are taking over watch for a few minutes, I’m gonna go take a shi–”

“Please, leave before you finish that sentence,” Suguru interjects as Satoru’s body lankily disappears down the hall. You’re suddenly struck by an unwavering feeling of awkwardness, something you’ve never felt before with Suguru. He must have sensed the way your body tensed up, too, since he respectfully positions himself away from you ever so slightly. “Nightmare?” You shake your head, too exhausted and too emotionally drained to answer. “Thinking?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, fiddling with your fingers. You can feel his dark eyes staring at you, but you don’t look up at him for fear of him seeing the burning shame on your face. “Just thinking a little too much about the mission, is all.” 

“Just the mission?”

“Yeah,” you lie, and a glance at his face reveals a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What has you so entertained?” He chuckles softly under his breath, the faint light catching the sharp outline of his jaw. Fuck, you think. He’s so beautiful. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve been awake since I heard the door of your room creak open,” he informs you and your stomach drops to your knees. “So I–”

“Heard everything,” you finish and put your head back into your hands, face on fire. “Just ignore whatever I said, rationalize it as a weird-ass dream or something–”

“Why would I wanna forget what you said?”

“Because you have bigger things to focus on,” you laugh, a little cynically.

“And I’m only able to focus on them because I have you to ground me,” he replies nonchalantly.

"What do you mean?"

“I like you too, genius. I thought it was obvious that I can barely see straight when you’re within a ten foot radius.” You smile, genuinely this time, and scoot back closer to him until your shoulders are touching. Carefully, your pinky reaches for his and eventually interweaves all of your fingers together. He lets you rest your head on his shoulder, inhaling deeply against your temple. 

“Can we do something about this after the mission is over? I don’t want to put more stress on either of us,” you whisper. 

“Of course, we can,” he murmurs, pressing the lightest kiss to your forehead. “Take your time; I’m already all yours.”

“You’ll wait for me?”

“However long you’ll let me.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[base0h]

Hello,

Heard you’re looking for ideas so…

Here’s a crack one: The Straw hats working in a department store

Would they become employee of the month? Would they be fired immediately?

a/n - IM WHEEZING AT THIS— you are GENIUS bro holy crap 😭🫶 dude luffy would get fired so fast it’s insane— and imma just add everyone bc why not 😂

Warnings ⚠️ - MAJOR crack, multiple characters, I’m kinda dumb and might’ve forgotten people

they didn’t even make it past the interview 💀

.✩ kidd (tried killing the interviewer for asking him why he wanted to work there “I really am passionate about restocking— MF IM BROKE.”), buggy, bonney, paulie (did the same thing as kidd plus he parked in the manager’s parking spot)

literally within the first few seconds of the interview they’re hired | “My name is—“ “Can you start within the next few seconds?”

.✩ jimbei, koby, sabo, koala, izou, kaku, vivi

got fired the same day they started

.✩ luffy (ate the entire produce section and then asked the manager “is there more stuff in the back?”), corazon (he accidentally burnt the place down 😀), sanji (confessed his love and asked several female customers to marry him at his cash register), brook (asked for some poor random woman’s underwear 💀)

employee of the month every single month

.✩ jimbei, koby (old people always say how sweet he is to the manager bc he always helps them get the things they can’t reach 😭🫶), tashigi (kids hate her bc she catches them and scolds them if they take an extra candy/sticker from the cashier jar), vivi (accidentally gave herself this title when she’s the manager 💀)

the manager of the store

.✩ nami (steals money from the safe sometimes), aokiji (he literally never shows up to work on time and doesn’t give a shit what the employees do), akainu, fujitora, shanks (bro also does not care and comes to work hungover), dragon (has not shown up once since the interview), sengoku, garp, dadan, vivi, magellan

the sale sign flipper guy

.✩ zoro (if he manages to actually find his way to the store), bepo, ace, shachi, penguin, queen (you legit can’t miss him as you’re driving by 💀), yamato, oden, cat viper, bon clay, ivankov

they work solely in the back to avoid human interaction as much as possible

.✩ mihawk, law, smoker (he’s the guy that mans the big crane machine that moves huge boxes), hawkins, king, katakuri, smoker, lucci

they’re the CEOs of companies that are partners with the store and provide goods for the store to sell

.✩ crocodile (provides gut/immune supporting, healthy, all organic animal/pet food), doflamingo, kaido, big mom, whitebeard, moria (sells and produces copious amounts of Halloween costumes and other decorations)

actually decent employees

.✩ usopp, benn, x drake, robin, nojiko, baby 5, monet, vergo, franky, icebarg, bellamy (SHADOW FROM SK8 PLS TELL ME YALL SEE IT), hachi, killer

they start tweaking because they asked a customer how they were and they ignored them

.✩ shirahoshi (sobbing), bepo, sanji (asked a girl who had her headphones on), Uta (will get so pressed that they ignored her when in reality they just had headphones on)

they’re the reason why the store’s still in business | they’re basically the mascot

.✩ chopper, bepo, carrot, cat viper, dog storm

the dude everyone goes to for questions/help | “Idk go ask ___”

.✩ franky (has beef with cash register 4 bc it stops working for no reason only during his lunch break and never when he’s not doing anything), icebarg, kaku, usopp, lucci, jack, king, robin, jimbei

they’re the reason why no one likes to shop there | they have several weird allegations or felonies of some sort

.✩ trebol, caesar, diamante, dellinger, pica (he drives this mini car and always somehow fits inside it and takes up two spots in the parking lot), absalom, hogback (people have gone missing in the parking lot it’s scary), moria (would you wanna shop if you saw bro? Ik I wouldn’t 😭)

jobless for life ✌️

.✩ rayleigh (he slays idc), roger, yasopp

a/n - I think i forgot people but eh 💀 the one piece brainrot is so back 🙏

[gnashingwailing]

@fireflywritesgt ok i read your tag on ch21 and i took that as a personal challenge (and then while I was writing this you dropped ch22 and THEN 23 and murdered me. but i'm back now. so)

HELLO Ok fuck yeah hold on everybody take my hand. We’re theorizing about this chapter 🙏 spoilers thru ch23 below

Re: the tag: dare I hope the next story will be set in a similar time/place… i MUST ADMIT despite the significant broader cultural stigma of such a thing. I have often contemplated. Harry and Joe helping with providing socialized miniature healthcare 😭 (maybe to wherever Lorraine lives[?] or knows of?) and when I heard mention of a Tiny Town Hospital… one must wonder how this compares to a Giant Hospital, or to the barber surgeon dens that Joe has presumably had some frostbitten toes cut off at.

OTHER THINGS I’M SPECULATING ABOUT: “certainly, bandits were a problem a borrower occasionally had to face” 🤔 damn that's rough. I do love the sense that there are few overarching cultural norms, whether it's around marriage or language or so on. Everybody is kinda doing their own thing (including robbing each other oof).

I am also VEEEERRY curious about the implications of WHATEVER the tinies that are working in Tiny Town are doing. What kind of mechanized thing could be profitable from a lot of little guys pressing buttons? Or is it maybe not something physical they’re producing? Is it instead a research project? Some attempt at “civilizing” the tiny society for giant colonialism reasons? There’s got to be some kind of output here that is valuable to some kind of giant, but I’m still mystified at what it will be. “Joe wanted to ask him about the four armed giants who stood outside of Tiny Town” YEAH MAN ME TOO‼️ <- secretly delighted this is still coming up because I want to know what it means QUITE BADLY

Joe lamenting that there don't seem to be any libraries, or restaurants, or speakeasies, or any mark of ... art or entertainment? In Tiny Town? I REALLY HOPE Joe and Harry get over themselves and kiss soon so they can TALK ABOUT HOW FUCKING WEIRD THIS PLACE IS???? It made me INSAAANE THAT JOE JUST BRUSHED OFF TALKING ABOUT IT AT ALL 😭 JOE TO HAVE THOSE THINGS. PEOPLE HAVE TO WORK AT THEM. ARE ALL THE PEOPLE IN TINY TOWN JUST WORKING ON PUSHING BUTTONS??? JOE PLS

“Expecting handouts from the bloody giants…” sooo fascinating to hear him voice this, since this whole project is a handout in the absolute best case scenario (given that scraps are worthless to giants), although likely closer to a prison, as Professor Hill called it. Still patiently waiting for his smart and cool wife to explain things to me <3

I hope Joe will deign to really talk about what happened to him… GURL go process it with ur beautiful best friend!! Let him hold you and comfort you and tell you you’re literally so smart and correct and everything you’re saying about ditching the buttons part entirely is literally so beautiful and true!!! Go rock his world with your insights king!!!

Also lmfao Joe is definitely not Irish bcuz his Irish Goodbyes need some SERIOUS work. King of just literally running off when he’s not feeling a conversation anymore.

Me 🤝Joe <- autistically just leaving

He does this so often and it makes me cackle every time. Wait hold on those great meme posts make me want to make a JUST WALK OUT! One.

Absolutely loving the tension of it all… the reveal that Joe was doing watchmaking when he was TWELVE, meaning (if I'm keeping track of time correctly) he got snatched right after he was ABANDONED BY HIS ONLY FAMILY IN THE WORLD, was so artfully done. I had to stop in my tracks and think at the “he’d known O’Grady longer in his life than he hadn’t” and do math and be like “oh fuck.” Maybe this was teased prior and I didn’t pick up on it, but it hit HARD. For some reason I hadn’t assumed he was a kid — but why wouldn’t he be? If little kids are already doing things like crawling into discarded beer bottles. Fuck, Warren, heartbreaking stuff. Bravo. Of course Joe would be as dedicated to going and seeing him as he was Harry in the hospital. He cares so deeply about everyone, but especially his friends. It’s too bad O’Grady is no longer in a place to reciprocate the love Joe gives !!! But of course Joe still would not be ready to throw away the boot knife O’Grady made for him… “a decision that would forever change Joe’s life” btw I can hear ur evil hehe from here. :)

Also btw THIS little detail is one of those things that makes rereading your story so delightful: “They invade our end of the city, take our jobs, show up at our bar… did we invite them? No.” O’Grady was practically ranting. “And when we politely tell them to leave, what do they do?” O’Grady pointed to his bandaged head. “Watch out for them once you get here. They’re not good Irishmen like you and me, Joe.” juxtaposed with the actual breaking news we heard from the radio ? "“AN IRISHMAN AND AN ITALIAN ARE IN THE HOSPITAL AFTER A MASS BRAWL OUTSIDE A BAR ENDED IN A CRACKED SKULL AND A STABBING. NEITHER OF ‘EM HAVE BEEN IDENTIFIED YET.”" a fucking STABBING = "politely tell them to leave"? What kinds of things has Joe's friend gotten used to excusing?

And of course I love the moments of solidarity within the tragedy of the newly realized (or at least newly stoked) xenophobia between borrowers. Joe being reminded of how his parents spoke, and how his brother shooed him off, in the gestures of a stranger… you really do a great job of evoking the ways we are all connected to each other. His family is gone, but he still sees them everywhere he looks. [pacing my enclosure and being sooo normal about how Joe has purposefully isolated for a decade and yet cannot help but see the beauty and humanity of his fellow man whether tiny or giant bcuz despite thinking he’s wired wrong, he’s actually wired like all of us who have felt that way for our unusual proclivities. He’s wired for connection with his fellow man. And he’s so wired for it u can feel how much it hurts his heart. Haha I’m sooooo .] The older guy was trying to warn him off crossing a white line into the “Irish ward”, too, right? The gesture was a kindness. And speaking of, does that mean the little tunnel somebody dug is to the Irish district? Or was I turned around and it was the Italian one? Either way — who would be trying to get in here, and why? Maybe it’s just a desperate person, but O’Grady talking about how bad it’d be if they saw Joe, and the need for an ID, makes me think it’s not someplace you can sneak into and integrate with. Just makes me curious as to whether it’ll come up again!!

THIS is also something I'm wondering about -- could the 'output' of Tiny Town maybe be researching, like... ethnonationalism? In the wake of WWI? Those drawn lines separating different 'wards'... do we think Tinies came up with this shit on their own? I doubt it, if someone like Dawson who is immediately assigning people nationalities that we know from Calloway's nobody "normal" in borrower society knows/cares about. HMMMmmmmMMMMM. I'm still reaaaaally curious how much Hill knows about this place and what hand, if any, he had in it. ONCE AGAIN, boys get kissing so you can also get TALKING. I think Harry would have much to say about how pointless it is to hate individuals from other nationalities after everything he saw during the war. Or so I assume, given he had no bad reaction to Joe being Italian.

AND WELL THIS IS LESS THEORYCRAFTING AND MORE “ME WANTING TO WRITE MORE FANFIC ABOUT THEM” BUT I WAS SOOO DELIGHTED THE CHAPTER DIDN’T END WITH HIM LEAVING TINY TOWN AND WE INSTEAD GOT DRESS REHEARSAL 2 OF HARRY AND JOE GETTING SO FUCKING DOWN BAD FOR EACH OTHER AT THE WINDOW & IN THE BEDROOM. YIPPEEEEE <- this was written before ch22 lol pictures taken moments before disaster

“Joe fidgeted for a moment as he fought with himself over whether or not to say what he really wanted to say.” … did you say what you really wanted to, there, pal? 🤨

I'm sooooo glad Joe's books are making more and more appearances... much like Harry I'm endlessly delighted by his culture. I wanna know what shaped his romantic fantasies!!

""Yeah, the ending on this one isn't great. They're cowards. Could've at least said they loved each other." Joe said.

He closed the book and snuggled into the crook of Harry's neck." <- Lmao @ these two guys so allergic to talking about their feelings shit-talking the romance book protagonists while they're literally cuddling in bed and not acknowledging it

Did he own these books when he was a kid? I imagine so, but on the other hand? HEY HOLY SHIT I REALIZED AFTER CH23 SOMETHING I SUSPECTED BUT COULDN'T CONFIRM: if homophobia isn't something borrowers have. Is one of these romance novels Joe owns going to be between two men? Harry is going to get his fuckin world rocked. Him and Georgie stole books from the library before, but I doubt they found any gay romance stuff (still impossible for baby-gay-Gnash to find that almost 100 years later in their rural libraries, lol.) Would this be Harry's first exposure to something like that? Wahhh... hurry up and open up to each other again you need to talk culture ASAP...

I'm also very curious if borrowers would have more taboo novels of their own, particularly giant/tiny stuff. And would Joe have come across any of it? I imagine it'd be extremely difficult to sell things like that without a beating, but maybe in bigger night markets -- and Joe said he's been in lots of very big cities... if his third novel is some really salacious g/t writing that would do numbers here on tumblr dot com I'm going to lose my god damn mind.

[rose-in-a-fisted-glove]

Hi it’s the SU anon here I’m very sorry for how much I upset you, and I seriously wanted to piece tgt what I’m missing from the Jewish viewpoint so I appreciate u still being open to talking to me despite the ignorance. Also disclaimer I’m born and raised in Malaysia so I’ve not met an actual Jew in person until very recently in uni, so all I know is from the messy pile on the internet and I do genuinely learn from ur posts when I see them.

From what I see on ur blog u do show quite a lot of sympathy to the all the cruelty happening in Gaza, but don’t tolerate this being used as an excuse to target Israel/Jewish ppl. I do understand that the whole concept of pushing for an Israel/jewish ethnostate is very much entwined with the history of Jewish culture and the antisemitism endured through different times, so I think this is the part where I made the most ignorant statement on? After rereading what I wrote it might also have sounded like all Jews hold extremely reactionary views towards the word “ceasefire”? Pls do point out more of what upset u, I take full responsibility for what I said and pls stop this convo at any point if I end up offending u more.

Recognizing that you don't know something is the first step towards fixing it. It's good that you thought on your previous ask and tried to research it! But you're missing an awful lot so let's start from the top.

(As a reminder and so others can seee, here's the original ask)

"Hi, this a question abt ur opinion on what’s happening in Gaza just bc you’re one of my favourite blogs that goes deep into Jewish culture/issues. If at any point this question becomes annoying pls ignore.

Anyways so in my college SU meeting recently someone sent in a motion to make an official statement to condemn the war and call for immediate and permanent ceasefire + provide more support to the Jewish and Muslim/Arab students affected by increased hate in the community as well. This sparked a debate among those in attendance and of course there’s a few very pro-Israel voices that insists that a ceasefire will cause Israel to lose all ability to defend itself as well as many pro-Palestine arguments. The motion ended up discarded bc of procedural reasons but as someone who has mostly held a free Palestine view so far and has been hoping for a more inclusive Israel in the future, I don’t understand why stopping a war hurting both sides is taken as an Israel must disappear take by many. I always just accepted it as it’s probably got a lot more antisemitic undertone when it’s a Jew that hears it, but I really wanna hear ur take as well bc the debate I witnessed brought up very disturbing points that I can’t stop thinking about. Hope this didn’t end up sounding disrespectful and thanks for always sharing important Jewish viewpoints without undermining other social issues!"

First problem comes right with the opening sentence; "Hi, this a question abt ur opinion on what’s happening in Gaza just bc you’re one of my favourite blogs that goes deep into Jewish culture/issues."

Going to random Jews who do not post about the conflict and asking for their "stance" on it is part of a series of antisemitic loyalty tests and is extremely rude on top of it. Furthermore, speaking on Jewish cultures and issues and antisemitism is not the same as being experienced or knowledgeable on international conflicts.

And then your next paragraphs are of course riddled with anti-Israeli biases and examples that you've been listening to/reading propaganda uncritically, such as "wanting a more inclusive Israel" and in your more recent ask saying things like "I do understand that the whole concept of pushing for an Israel/jewish ethnostate is very much entwined with the history of Jewish culture and the antisemitism endured through different times". So you clearly have a basic lack of knowledge about both Israel and the conflict in general along with Zionism itself.

But, again, that's not an area I talk about much. If any of the folks who do talk about it, see this and want to go into it, please do! Just to repeat here, you shouldn't have been asking me in the first place.

Then, this part here, showed me that you have a history of dismissing antisemitism as Jews being overly sensitive "I always just accepted it as it’s probably got a lot more antisemitic undertone when it’s a Jew that hears it." And then that was compounded by your closing insult, "thanks for always sharing important Jewish viewpoints without undermining other social issues!"

And that closing insult told me that I had woefully failed in sharing any information about antisemitism at all. "Sharing important Jewish viewpoints without undermining other social issues". Jewish "viewpoints" and antisemitism are just as important as any other sort of bias. Pointing out antisemitism and sharing stories about antisemitism does not, and can not, undermine other social issues. It is not lesser. Honestly, I'm still kind of livid over that shot.

[brumlow]

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[ilongfor-the-arts]

Can I pls request Kirk Hammett smut. Any kind

hey!! :)

I fucking love ur work on here and I saw ur request s we’re open. I was wondering if u could write more Kirk fics? preferably smut circa ‘83 lol

It’s Raining, It’s Pouring

Pairing: Kirk Hammett x fem! Reader

Warnings: language, smut, oral (m! Receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation

Summary: You never thought you’d fall for the one man who has had your back since day one.

Word Count: 6k

Request?: Yes! (I got two requests for more Kirk)

Taglist: @theweightofstardust

“You can’t fire me! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“You’re just not good enough honey… if you wanna run with Metallica you gotta be ready to go the extra mile… and frankly, you didn’t do nearly enough to prove yourself useful.”

I rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of his statement.

“I haven’t done enough?!”

I pointed a finger at my chest.

“Not only have I taken pictures for you for way less than I’m worth… I’ve done almost any job you’ve asked me to do without complaining which, may I say, is very hard to do.”

Metallica's manager despised me with a vengeance. I would have been fired a long time ago if it hadn't been for my friendship with the bandmates. I enjoy my job and have worked hard to keep it, but it's difficult to do well in the workplace when their manager is staring daggers into my back the entire time, waiting for me to make one minor error.

He waved me away nonchalantly.

“Just get outta here peacefully before I call security, okay?”

He said, not even bothering to make eye contact with me.

I groaned, but turned and walked away calmly, knowing I'd be back soon after informing the boys that their manager had fired their closest companion.

The show had just ended, and thousands of people were rushing to the exit, practically climbing on top of one another to avoid the inevitable post-show traffic jam.

I sat patiently in the back of the crowd, not in a rush because I had no intentions of leaving anytime soon. I let everyone who appeared to be in a hurry pass me.

What I really wanted was for everyone to clear out of the stadium so I could have a one-on-one conversation with Metallica and request to be rehired. Without a doubt, I'd regain my job. The boys treated me as if I were one of them, and they wanted me to be a part of their team as much as I wanted to be a part of theirs.

After many minutes of being pushed and shoved around, I made my way to the stadium's back door, where I knew Metallica would be coming once they had finished packing up their belongings.

I sat patiently, the cool summer air providing the ideal setting to sit and enjoy the night.

Metallica could be heard for miles. When I heard them talking about how good they did and how they were going to blow the roof off the next show, I knew they were on their way to the back parking lot.

I quietly laughed to myself. They were out of control.

This was the moment I had been anticipating for the past half hour. When one of them asked what I was doing out here, I’d tell them I came to say goodbye because their manager had just fired me. They'd be resentful and would undoubtedly seek him out to give him a piece of their mind.

James slammed through the back door, nearly knocking it off its hinges.

“We're the best band in the whole goddamn world!”

They all agreed instantly, being loud and proud of themselves before Kirk noticed me sitting on the curb, staring at them intently.

“Hey Y/N… what’s goin’ on?”

He inquired, his goofy smile plastered on his ridiculously cute face.

The rest of the band joined in on the greetings.

I shrugged, brushing imaginary dust specks off my leather pants and pushing myself to a standing position.

“Nothing… just coming to say goodbye.”

I said it casually, as if there was a perfectly logical and obvious reason why I was biding my farewells.

One by one, puzzled expressions appeared on their faces. They cocked their brows or tilted their heads to the side to show their confusion.

“Huh?!”

James exclaimed.

“What do you mean goodbye?”

Kirk asked.

I scoffed.

“I mean… your boss just fired me and told me to leave. So… that’s what I’m doing.”

Their expressions shifted from bemusement to mild rage. Their brows furrowed and their teeth were clenched, the muscles in their jaws protruding from their cheeks.

“No way!”

“That’s not right!”

“Where is he?! We gotta talk to him!”

James charged towards the back door, his heavy boots thudding against the solid concrete. He had the look of a general leading his troops into battle, ready to fight for what they believed was right.

Kirk stepped away from the crowd for a moment to face me, his hands tenderly placed on my shoulders.

“We’ll get this figured out, okay?... you’ll be back working with us in no time.”

I smiled despite his worried expression.

“I know you guys will put in a good word for me…”

I ruffled his hair playfully, and he scrunched his face in mock disgust.

“I’ll see you later Y/N.”

“See ya later Mr. Hammett.”

He flawed me a smirk one last time before turning to follow his troops into battle, his hands deep inside the pockets of his worn leather jacket.

There had been rumors in magazines and newspapers about a possible romance between Metallica's guitarist and their devoted photographer.

We just laughed at their wild antics, not paying attention to their ridiculous assumptions.

I'd known Kirk Hammett since I started photographing bands. They were the first band to hire little old me, and I gratefully accepted.

Kirk was the main reason I was able to get a job. Despite the fact that I had never spoken to him, he managed to persuade everyone that I would be a good fit.

I’ll be honest, I have no idea how he did it.

Not even five minutes later, the band threw open the back door again. I swear I heard one of the screws pop out of the door and land on the concrete this time.

With a joyful smile on his face, James extended his hand to me in an overly formal manner.

“Welcome to Metallica Mrs. Y/N.”

I bowed my head, smiling, before taking his hand in mine, our arms flailing around clumsily as we exchanged handshakes.

“You won’t regret hiring me Mr. Hetfield… I can assure you I will be a valuable asset to the workplace.”

We spoke sarcastically, treating this ordeal as a joke because we both knew that with Metallica on my side, I'd be able to reclaim my job with ease.

“You want me to drive you home Y/N?”

Kirk asked, chiming into the conversation.

“Sure… let’s take a ride.”

I agreed before bidding my goodbyes to the band and following Kirk through the dark parking lot to his car.

It began to rain just as Kirk and I were getting settled inside his luxurious car, the plush leather seats hugging my body.

“Let’s hope the storm can hold off… I hate driving in the rain… you can’t see shit.”

“Yeah… I’d hate to have you driving home in the rain.”

Unfortunately, the rain did not hold off. It was pouring by the time we got halfway to my house. By the time Kirk pulled into my driveway, the road ahead of us was obscured by the haze of rain pelting down on the car.

It sounded like golf balls slamming into the car at 60 miles per hour. The force was intense, and I was afraid that a large water droplet would rip a hole in his front windshield.

“Well… this certainly isn’t good.”

I scoffed.

“Yeah no shit.”

“I should be okay… I’ll just take the back roads where no one drives.”

I violently shook my head from side to side.

“No way. The road’s invisible! You’ll crash!”

I extended my arm in front of him, demonstrating how little could be seen through the rainy haze.

“Well… what do you suggest I do?”

He inquired, swiveling his head to meet my concern.

I shrugged.

“You could stay here tonight… I just got a new couch.”

Kirk rolled his eyes.

“Don’t take this the wrong way… but I don’t want to sleep on your couch.”

I sighed and made an annoyed face at him.

“Well then I’ll take the couch and you can take the bed… I really don’t care but I don’t want you driving home when you can’t even see a foot in front of you.”

Kirk faced forward, biting his bottom lip and mulling over my request. The rain clapped against the metal like thunder, roaring loudly and drowning out our conversation to the point where we had to raise our voices to be heard.

“Kirk… you drive bad enough when you can see… Imagine how dysfunctional you’d be if you were blinded.”

Kirk paused before concluding that I was correct. He sighed and yanked the keys from the ignition.

“Fine… you win.”

Sarcastically, I batted my eyelashes.

“Thank you so very much.”

Kirk rolled his eyes, mockingly irritated.

“Sure… whatever makes you happy sweetheart.”

We stepped out of the vehicle and were soaked to the bone in seconds. Both of us bolted up my front lawn. When I was getting pelted by water droplets that stung when they hit my skin, the path from his car to my front door seemed to take an eternity.

I fumbled with my keys and nearly dropped them once we reached my front door.

“Y/N! Open the door already!”

Kirk yelled directly into my ear because I wouldn't be able to hear him over the rain if he was any farther away.

“I’m trying!”

I fumbled, the key striking every surface around the lock rather than going inside.

After what seemed like minutes of struggle, I was able to easily slide the key into the lock.

“Yes!”

I exclaimed in delight, throwing the door open with such force that it smacked against the wall with a loud thud.

I was expecting a warm night, so I set my thermostat to a low setting so when I walked through the door, it would be a breath of cool, fresh air.

Instead, every single droplet of water that touched my skin and clothes froze. As I lost feeling in my hands and feet, goosebumps appeared on my skin and my teeth began to chatter.

“Y/N, are you tryna kill me?”

Kirk's lips were a pale blue as he hugged himself to retain his body heat. His usual curly hair was soaked and stuck to his temples. The water droplets on his tanned skin glistened in the dim white light of my house.

His knees were trembling with cold as I dashed over to the thermostat to crank up the heat so neither of us would succumb to a severe case of hypothermia.

“Better?”

I inquired after the thermostat had been set to a reasonable temperature.

I faced Kirk, whose teeth were barred to prevent the irritating chattering of bone against bone.

“I’ll be better once it actually gets warm.”

Despite my house being only one level, it would take some time for the heat to dissipate through the air.

“Sorry… I was expecting it to be warmer.”

“Can I use your shower?”

“Sure… if you want an extra shirt I have some oversized ones that should fit you… take whatever you want.”

I didn't bother showing Kirk where anything was located. He'd been to my house several times and knew where everything was situated better than I did.

He nodded, the light washing over him and causing the dark areas of his face to glisten in the ambient lighting.

I sat on the couch, hanging off the edge so the cushions wouldn’t get wet. I twiddled my thumbs as I waited for him to finish with the shower. I stared at the wall, my eyes following every minor crack and imperfection.

If I wasn't drenched, I'd wrap a blanket around my shivering body.

I bobbed my head to the beat of one of Metallica's songs that had been stuck in my head for over a week, humming loudly.

I heard the shower turn on, and the water began to splash against the acrylic.

The sounds of roaring thunder and water smacking against the shower reverberated throughout my house and violently shook the walls.

If I had been alone, I would have been terrified of the deafening noises that threatened to rip my house apart piece by piece.

I reflected on how much I despised their manager. I reflected on the show. I recalled James's fantastic vocals and Kirk's incredible guitar work. Lars' drums came to mind as well.

Kirk was fantastic tonight; he really knew how to work a crowd, as well as a guitar.

Kirk Hammett.

I like his hairstyle. He has amazing curls.

I like the way he plays... He has good fingers for playing the guitar. They were long and agile.

Ah, I almost forgot he was taking a shower. I was distracted by the sounds of thunder and pelting rain to hear the water smacking against the acrylic shower.

He’s probably washing his hair now… I wonder if it’d smell like lavender from using my shampoo.

I know he likes his showers hot… The room is probably full of steam.

He’s got water traveling down his chest to his…

“Oh… Oh god…”

I cupped my hands around my face.

“I don’t like how my mind went there…”

I mumbled to my palms, not raising my voice above a whisper for fear that Kirk would somehow overhear me discussing how my filthy mind had thought something it should not have been thinking.

I was quite literally just thinking about my best friend’s dick. My best friend, who has always had my back since day one. My best friend, who has always stood by my side and believed in me even when I didn't believe in myself. My best friend, who has always been there for me in times of need.

But then I remembered something I'd heard years ago. Something along the lines of "when you meet your soulmate, you will feel completely at ease in their presence."

Maybe, just maybe, Kirk Hammett is the man I've been looking for my entire life.

No way, no how. I'm thinking ridiculously. I had an intrusive thought. A completely wrong, intrusive thought with no emotion behind it.

I didn't even notice the sounds of the shower stopping due to the pounding of rain on my roof and windows.

“Y/N… you okay?”

Fuck.

My gaze shifted from the darkness of my palms to Kirk, who stood on the threshold leading to my bedroom. He was standing at an angle, his shoulder pressed to the doorframe and his arms crossed over his chest.

Kirk was completely naked, with only a white towel wrapped around his waist keeping me from seeing everything. And it was difficult for me to concentrate on his eyes when the towel kept falling down his hips with every minor movement of his body.

“Yeah… I’m okay.”

My face was unmistakably beet red. I could feel the heat of a blush on my cheeks, and I could sense thin droplets of sweat on my upper lip.

“Just… tired.”

Despite the fact I was completely uncomfortable, I forced a smile. There were butterflies fluttering around my insides, as well as a feeling of unwelcome desire bubbling in the pit of my stomach.

The combination of all of the horrible lustful emotions made the entire situation extremely uncomfortable.

“Okay…”

Kirk didn't believe me when I said there was nothing wrong. He had an unsure expression on his face, one of his brows slightly cocked.

I'd seen him without a shirt before. But, oh my goodness, this was so different. He was standing in my living room, so close to me, in such an intimate setting where it was easy to feel the electricity humming through the air.

Kirk let out a deep sigh, the towel dripping lower to reveal his well-defined hip bones.

The universe was not assisting me in overcoming my newfound desires.

“Well… I’m done with the shower if you wanna use it.”

He pointed his finger over his shoulder, in the direction of the shower. The steam was drifting through the air and into the living room, giving the impression that Kirk was an angel emerging from a cloud of smoke.

He resembled a magazine cover model.

“Um…”

I was worried about what would happen if I was locked in a private room. I feared where my mind would go once I was alone.

“I think… I’ll just change clothes.”

“Are you sure?”

He asked, unsure.

“Yes… I’m sure.”

I stood, trying not to wobble and fall flat on my face.

Kirk moved out of the way to make room for me. I strolled past him with my head down and my eyes fixed on the ground, not meeting his gaze in fear I wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to press my lips to his.

I caught a whiff of his scent as I moved past him. He had used my shampoo, and he smelled like lavender.

Fuck.

I gently closed the door behind me, making sure to hear the lock slide into place so the door didn't remain ajar, leaving me exposed to Kirk, who would be able to oversee me as I mulled over my thoughts.

“Oh shit…”

Kirk says, his voice muffled by the door placed between us.

“Hey Y/N! Could you pass me my clothes?! There on the floor in the bathroom!”

He raised his voice above his normal tone so I could hear what he was saying over both the rain and the slab of wood.

“Yes!”

I felt like a pervert guy who climbed into a random girls house to steal her underwear as I retrieved his soaking wet clothes from the bathroom.

Touching his boxers sure as hell did not help my dire situation.

Either the universe was sending me signs, or it truly wanted me to suffer.

“Here you go!”

I gently opened the door, holding his drenched clothing between two fingers. He snatched them from my grasp and draped them over his forearm like a waiter with a fine napkin.

“Thanks gorgeous… I would’ve got them myself but I didn’t know if you were naked or not.”

With a smirk and a wink, he said.

He was acting silly, as he often did when I was around.

But, oh my goodness, it did nothing to help the thousands of thoughts that were racing through my head at the time.

The light streaming in through the slightly ajar bedroom door caused his face to glisten and shine from the moisture that had seeped into his skin. He appeared revitalized, young and free, and undeniably beautiful.

His sly grin had evolved into his iconic endearing smile, which I had grown to adore over the years I had known him. It never failed to make my heart sing with joy.

Kirk was accustomed to witty retorts in response to his mock flirting, complete with a sarcastic bat of my eyelashes.

His joy was short-lived when he noticed I was staring into his eyes, my face blank.

“Y/N what’s going on?”

He was worried, and rightly so. His best friend was acting strangely, with no logical explanation.

I sighed.

“Kirk…”

I stepped through the threshold, closing the door behind me until the click of the lock was barely audible above the thunderous rain.

I leaned against the door, pressing my shoulder blades against it for support so my legs didn't buckle and cause me to collapse.

“Have you ever…”

For a brief moment, I made eye contact with him, but his gaze crushed me. So I shifted my eyes to the floor beneath me.

I must have appeared pitiful. But I didn't care how he perceived me as long as I said what I needed to say.

“I don’t know…”

This was far more difficult than I anticipated.

“Thought about… you and me?”

I was mumbling, and Kirk couldn't hear me over the din of the storm.

“Sorry… what did you say?”

He took a step forward, leaning into me in hopes of hearing me better. Unfortunately, this only added to my unease.

My breath caught in my throat as I caught a second whiff of his hair, and my stomach flipped upside down. Instead of fluttering peacefully without a care in the world, the butterflies were now pounding against the inside of my stomach.

I felt stomach acid stinging my esophagus.

I wanted to bend over and throw up just to feel relief from the unease.

“Y/N… hey, look at me please.”

He spoke softly, as if he were a grown man trying to comfort a scared puppy.

I didn't want to look him in the eyes. To avoid the problem at hand, I wanted to turn around and slam the door behind me, then lock it so no one could speak to me for the rest of the night.

Kirk cupped my cheek gently, bringing my face up so that my eyes met his against my will.

“Kirk… please don’t touch me.”

I spoke while my tongue was not connected to my brain.

It sounded wrong... terribly wrong. I didn't mean it to sound that way.

Kirk recoiled, allowing his hand to fall to his side in defeat as his expression shifted from concern to pain.

His brows, which had been furrowed with concern, now stood limp as his eyes fell with sadness. I'd hurt him, and the warm glimmer of light in his lovely irises had been crushed under my foot.

“Sorry…”

He spoke quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. If I couldn't read his lips due to our close proximity, I wouldn't be able to hear him over the raging storm outside.

“No, no… please don’t be sorry I didn’t mean to say… er- I didn’t mean to sound like that…”

At this point, I was rambling. I'd gone from a shy girl trying to ease into a sensual conversation to a rambling mess of a human.

I cut myself off before I dug a deeper hole for myself.

Okay, it was now or never. I’d already ruined the beginning of the conversation, so it was time to cut to the chase.

“Kirk…”

I took a deep breath, allowing my lungs to fill with the soothing oxygen I had been deprived of for the past few minutes.

I stood tall instead of slouching against a door, and I relaxed, doing my best to quell the nausea which was now simmering inside my stomach

Our chests were almost pressed flush together due to my now confident posture.

It was Kirk's turn to blush.

The energy in the room shifted from nervous to confident and anticipatory. There was something in the air, something sensual.

My only concern was that Kirk would reject my advances.

If we tried and things didn't work out, we'd have a serious talk about it and try our hardest to get past this inconvenience.

We’d dealt with worse things than a failed kiss.

You only live once, right?

“Can I kiss you?”

I placed my open palms on his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat rattling around his rib cage like a cheetah running in the wild. At least I knew I wasn't the only one who was nervous.

Kirk gulped.

Please say yes.

Please say yes.

“Okay-”

I pressed my lips to his as soon as I had his permission.

Everything was slow at first, and I was almost certain this would fail, leaving us with the awkward aftermath of a failed advance.

Kirk then moaned into my mouth, the vibrations rattling my teeth and throat.

That's when I realized he was just as invested in making this work as me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and slid my tongue between his teeth to intensify the kiss. He followed my lead, his arms encircling my waist.

Kirk sighed deeply into my mouth, pushing me back until my shoulder blades slammed into the door, rattling it inside its frame.

His lips felt like two clouds, soft and supple and easily meshing against mine. He was a fantastic kisser, even better than I could have imagined in my wildest fantasies. My mind was now walking through the gates and into the land of angels.

I had ascended to the heavens.

I'd never been happier in my entire life. Every decision I'd made in my life had led up to this point. This substantial moment would change my life forever, for better or for worse.

He was beginning to harden through the thin towel, his cock pressing firm against my stomach.

After exposing him to minutes of torture, getting him worried about what I wanted and debating whether or not he had done something wrong, I needed to repay him.

The towel was hanging on by a thread, the base of his cock practically exposed.

I trailed my soft fingertips down his chest, feeling goosebumps rise under my touch as I traced the plane of his slightly toned chest. The muscles in his abdomen flexed in anticipation when I reached the skin just above his cock.

“You don’t have to-”

I cut him off, pushing the towel to the floor and wrapping my hand around the base of his semi hard dick.

Kirk moaned loudly, throwing his head back in pleasure. His noises were music to my ears, adding to the wetness that was beginning to pool in my panties.

As my kneecaps made contact with the hardwood, a soft thud resounded throughout the silent room.

I was now eye level with his thick cock, beads of precum covering his swollen tip, my mouth watering with delight at the thought of tasting him.

Kirk gently threaded his large hand through my hair, simply for leverage rather than to exert force over me.

“Whenever you’re done gawking at my cock could you please suck it?”

There he was, the jovial and playful Kirk I'd grown accustomed to. He was staring down at me, his dark, thick hair almost completely covering his face. I rolled my eyes, staring at him through my lashes, but didn't bother responding.

Instead, I took his cock into my mouth, my hands wrapped around his thighs for leverage.

Kirk dropped his jaw, a choked moan erupting from his throat as he threw his head back, exposing his neck.

His hand tightened in my hair, pulling the strands from my scalp. The glorious pain travelled from my scalp to my lower stomach, igniting a fire within my abdomen.

“Fuck…”

He mumbled breathily.

I took him in my mouth, little by little until his tip was hitting the back of my throat.

“God… I’ve thought about this for a while.”

He lowered his head until his chin was pressed against his chest, his gaze burning into the top of my head.

He'd been thinking about it for a while?

That statement just made me even more antsy to have his cock buried inside of me.

The vein located on the underside of his cock began to bulge against my tongue as I continued to bob my head along his thick length.

His deep desire for me made my pussy ache for him, forcing me to rub my thighs together in hopes of gaining pleasurable friction.

It assisted in easing the pain temporarily, causing me to moan around his length.

Kirk whined as the vibrations added to his pleasure.

“Don’t stop… I wanna cum in your mouth…”

I sped up, my nose lightly brushing against his pubic bone every time I reached the base of his length.

Kirk sighed deeply.

“That feels so good… so fucking good…”

His cock began to twitch in my mouth, the bulging vein growing more desperate for release.

I moaned around him once more, helping Kirk release his cum into the back of my throat.

His chest heaved as he came, finally arriving at his much awaited orgasm

I swallowed his cum, releasing his cock from my mouth with a loud pop. Kirk’s thighs were trembling from post orgasmic haze.

I sat back on my heels, wiping any extra cum off my face with the back of my hand. It made me joyful to see just how much of an impact I could have on him.

Kirk untangled his fingers from my hair as he released his death grip on my scalp.

I rose to my feet, my knees trembling with excitement.

Kirk was in complete shambles. After our make out session, his lips were wet with saliva and plush. His upper lip and brow were covered in a thin layer of sweat. His bare chest swelled and fell with desire.

He smiled at me through heavy breaths, and I was quick to return his grin.

“That was really good…”

“Thank you…”

I approached him again, wrapping my arms around his shoulders gently.

I leaned into his ear and kissed the skin under his earlobe tenderly.

“Can I ride your cock Mr. Hammett?”

I mumbled, trying to put on the most sensual tone I could muster.

Kirk sighed, his cock already beginning to grow hard once more.

“Yes please…”

He murmured, practically begging.

I reached behind me, unlocked the door, and pushed it open, the hinges squeaking with excitement.

I drew him back until my knees collided with the bed frame, causing me to lose my balance and fall back onto the mattress with a soft thud.

Kirk placed his hands next to my head and settled in between my legs, his knee brushing against my aching core.

I groaned, rolling my hips forward against his knee to ignite the pleasurable friction I craved.

Kirk could sense my desire. He reached in between our bodies and hooked a finger in the waistband of my pants.

Fortunately, the fabric was dry enough to easily slide down my legs. Kirk shifted his body until his knees were on either side of my thighs, allowing him to yank my pants all the way down to my calves.

I helped him out by kicking my clothes off my legs and onto the carpeted floor until I was left in my panties and a t- shirt.

Kirk shifted once more until his knee was mere inches from my aching core, his hands placed next to my head for leverage.

He rubbed his bare knee against my clothed pussy, eliciting a low moan from the back of my throat.

I grasped onto his thick curls to assist me in grinding against him.

“Fuck…”

I mumbled against his supple lips.

I was so horribly wet and aching for him.

So I took command, hooking my leg behind his torso and flipping him onto his back.

Kirk looked up at me with soft eyes and a few curls on his brow. He gently rested his hands on my hips as I removed my loose t-shirt and tossed it to the ground, hurrying to have him inside of me.

“Fuck… I should’ve taken these off before I got on top of you.”

I was still wearing my panties, unfortunately.

“I gotcha honey…”

Kirk grasped each side of my panties, tugging sharply. My heart skipped a beat as a result of a loud snap that came from him ripping the fabric. Kirk tore the leg holes so I was able to remove them without dismounting his torso.

I scoffed.

“You always were a fan of dramatic flares.”

I said, tossing the ripped piece of fabric to the ground.

Kirk moved his hands behind my back, unhooking my bra in one swift motion and tossing it to the floor with the rest of my forgotten clothes.

I grasped his semi hard cock, giving it a few pumps before lining him up with my entrance and sinking down onto his girth.

We both threw our heads back in unison. Kirk's dull nails dug into the flesh of my hips, igniting a pleasurable yet painful sensation in my lower abdomen, making me even more desperate to feel every inch of him.

Kirk’s thick girth stretched my walls until I feared I would split in two. I sunk down until there was no more of his glorious cock to feel inside of me.

“Fuck Kirk… you’re so big.”

I felt deliciously full, like when you're stuffed from dinner but still want dessert.

I leaned over his chest, placing my open palms against his legs and raising my hips before sinking back down slowly.

At first, I took my time, testing the waters rather than diving in head first. When I heard Kirk moaning, whining, and begging for me to give him more of me, I decided it was time to go all in.

“Y/N… please go faster… your pussy feels so good…”

I rolled my hips back and forth, his grasp becoming tighter on my hips with every rock of my pelvis.

I could feel Kirk's heartbeat racing through my palms. Every heave of his chest as he indulged himself in the lustful situation was palpable to me.

“God Y/N, you’re making me crazy.”

Through heavy sighs and moans, he struggled to speak.

His words went straight to my core, adding to the aching and burning desire I felt for him. The need to make both of us cum was now even more prevalent than before.

I wanted to cum more times than I could count on top of his thick cock. The way he stretched me, the way he filled me up until I swore I couldn’t take anymore drove me to the brink of insanity.

It was all good… so good… maybe even too good to be true.

But it was true, it was so true.

My thigh cramped unexpectedly, a sharp jolt of pain shooting up my leg, and not the pleasurable kind.

“Kirk… can you fuck me?”

“I’d love to… I wanna make you cum so hard you’ll be aching for me the next time you think about my cock inside your pretty little pussy.”

Kirk effortlessly flipped us both over. It was an easy transition that didn’t allow any of the passion to fizzle out and die.

He began to pound into me, his hips snapping forward and burying himself balls deep inside of me with every thrust.

I closed my eyes, savoring the incredible sensation of him taking control.

“Kirk!”

I exclaimed, tangling my fingers in his thick curls.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, the new angle allowing the tip of his cock to brush against my g spot with every harsh thrust.

I arched my back into him the second time his cock slammed into my g spot.

“Kirk… please keep going, you feel so good inside me.”

It was my turn to beg for him.

His curls brushed against my face and tickled my cheek as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. The scent of lavender drifted into my nose, making me fall into a sex filled haze.

“I love fucking you so much… I could fuck you all day.”

I dropped my jaw and let out a pornographic moan as his cock began to slam into my g spot at a more rapid pace.

My orgasm came unexpectedly. It only took one hard thrust to have my toppling over the edge with a loud howl of pleasure. Kirk began to slow down, but I couldn’t let this end, not yet.

“No… no please keep going… I need to cum again… I want you so fucking bad.”

Kirk reached in between our bodies to run slow circles into my clit.

“Come on baby… cum for me again.”

He mumbled, his voice raspy and thick with desire.

It wasn’t long after that I was cumming even more violently on his cock. It was euphoric, my body was lifted from the earth and into the heavens. I could only think of the pleasure as my orgasm completely overcame me, making every nerve in my body tender.

This time, Kirk followed close behind, painting my walls with his warm cum.

He collapsed on top of me, pressing his entire body weight onto my torso.

I ran my fingers through his hair tenderly, brushing out the knots and pulling it out of his face. His cock remained inside of me as we both came down from our highs.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Kirk’s eyes were shut as he spoke.

I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“I think I’m in love with you as well.”

I agreed.

“The rain stopped…”

I'd just realized there was no longer a storm or any heavy rain. How long has it been silent for?

I chuckled.

“It was giving us the opportunity to fuck.”

In each other's presence, we both laughed, pure, happy laughter.

I didn’t regret having sex with Kirk Hammett.

[that-disabled-radfem]

Happy back-to-school y’all

I’ve attended and worked at a couple of super liberal universities. I avoid the gender studies departments for obvious reasons and I still had a lecture in which the female prof gave a brief overview of TERFs and proclaimed her hatred of JKR. Being openly critical of gender ideology, the porn industry, kinks, and ‘sex work’ are the kind of things that can ruin your future in academia. Not to mention the fact that any speech or actions that could be labelled transphobic (ie. defining woman as adult human female) can get you a suspension according to many universities anti-hate-speech policies. 

So, here’s a list of small and smallish (small in terms of overt TERFery, some may require more effort than others) radical feminist actions you can take as a university student:

(this is a liberal arts perspective so if you’re a stem gal this may not apply. but also if you’re in stem maybe you can actually acknowledge that women are oppressed as a sex class without getting kicked out of school. idk)

(Note for TRAs hate reading this: One of the core actions of radical feminism is creating female networks. This is not so that we can brainwash people into being anti-trans. This is because female solidarity is necessary for creating class consciousness and overturning patriarchy. It is harder to subjugate the female sex when we stand together.)

Take classes with female profs. Multiple sections of a class? Pick the one taught by a woman. Have to chose an elective? Only look at electives offered by women. When classes have low numbers they get cancelled. When classes are super popular, universities are forced to consider promoting the faculty that teach them

Make relationships with these female profs. Go to office hours. Chat after class. Ask them about their research. Building female networks is sooooo important!

Actually fill in your end of year course feedback forms. Profs often need these when applying for tenure or applying for a job at another university so it is very important (especially with young and/or new profs) that you fill out these forms and give specific examples of how great these women are. Go off about what you love about them! Give her a brilliant review because you know the idiot boy in that class who won’t shut up even though he knows nothing is going to give her only negative feedback because he thinks any woman who leaves the house is a feminazi b*tch. 

(note: obviously don’t go praising any prof - female or male - who is blatantly racist, homophobic, etc.)

(Also if you have shitty male profs write down all the horrible things they have done and said and put it in these forms because once a shitty man gets tenure they are virtually untouchable)

(also also, leave a good review on rate my profs or whatever other thing students use to figure out if they want to take classes. idc if you copy paste your feedback from the formal review. rave about the class to your friends. do what you can to get good enrolment for that prof for reasons above.)

Participate in class. Talk over the male students. Say what you mean and mean it. Call out the boys when they say dumb shit

Write about women. If you have the option to make a text written by a woman your primary text in an essay, do it. Pick the female-centred option if you’re writing an exam-essay with multiple prompts. (Profs often look at what works on their syllabus are being written about/engaged with as a marker of whether to keep those texts the next time they teach the class. If there are badass women on your syllabus, write about them to keep them on the syllabus) Use female-written secondary sources whenever possible. 

(pro tip: many women in academia are more than happy to talk to you about their papers. expand your female networks by reaching out to article authors through email and asking them about their cool shit)

Get your essays published! Many departments have undergrad journals you can publish in. This will ensure more people read about the women you write about and will demonstrate to the department that people like learning about women

Consider trying to publish your undergrad essay with a legit peer-reviewed journal. If you can do it, your use of female-written secondary sources boosts the reputations of the women who wrote those secondary sources. Also this helps generally to increase scholarship about women’s writing!

Present your papers at conferences! Many schools have their own undergraduate/departmental conferences that you can present at. Push yourself by submitting to outside conferences. Bring attention to women’s works by presenting your papers. Take a space at a conference that would otherwise be reserved for mediocre men

Talk to your profs and/or your department and/or your university about mandating the inclusion of female works in classes if this isn’t something they do already

Sit next to other women in your classes. Talk to them. Make friends. Form study groups. Proofread each other’s essays. Give each other knowing looks when the boys are being dumb. Just interact with other women! Build those female networks!

Be generous with your compliments. A female classmate and I were talking to a prof after class and the classmate told me (out of the blue) that I always have such interesting things to say. I think about that whenever I’m lacking confidence about my academic skills. Compliment the women in your classes for speaking up, for sharing their opinions, for challenging your classmates/profs, for doing cool presentations, etc.

Talk to other women about sexist things going on on campus. Make everyone aware of the sexist profs. Complain about how there are many more tenured men than tenured women. Go on rate my professor and be explicit about how the sexist profs are sexist

Be active on campus and in societies. If a society has an all male executive or is male-dominated, any women who join that society make it less intimidating for more women to join. Run for executive positions! Bring in more women! 

(Pro tip: Many societies’ elections are super gameable. You can be eligible to vote in a society election sometimes just by being a student at that university — even without having done anything with the society before. Other societies might just require that you’ve taken a class in a particular department or attended a society event. (Check the society’s governing documents.) Use those female networks you’ve been building. If you can bring three or four random people to vote for you, that might be enough for you to win. Societies have trouble meeting quorum (the minimum number of people in attendance to do votes) so it is really super achievable to rig an election with a few friends. And don’t feel bad about this. The system is rigged against women so you have every right to exploit loopholes!)

(Also feel free to go vote “non-confidence”/“re-open election” if only shitty men are running. Too often people see that only candidates they don’t like are running and so they give up. But you can actually stop them getting elected)

Your campus may have a LGBTQIA+alphabetsoup society. That society definitely needs more L and B women representation. It may be tedious to argue with the nb straight dudes who insist that it’s fine to use “q***r” in the society’s posters and that attraction has nothing to do with genitals, but just imagine what could happen if we could make these sorts of societies actually safe spaces for same-sex attracted women and advocated for our concerns

Attend random societies’ election meetings. Get women elected and peace out. (or actually get involved but I’m trying to emphasize the lowest commitment option with this one)

Write for the campus newspaper. Write about what women are doing - women’s sports, cool society activities, whatever. Review female movies, books, tv shows, local theatre productions. Write about sexism on campus. We need more female by-lines and more stories about women

Get involved with your campus’s sexual assault & r*pe hotline/sexual assault survivor’s centre/whatever similar organization your campus has if you can. This is hard work and definitely not for everyone (pls take care of yourself first, especially if you are a survivor)

(If your campus doesn’t have an organization for supporting survivor’s of sexualized violence, start one! This is probably going to be a lot of hard work though, so don’t do it alone)

Talk to your student council about providing free menstrual hygiene products on campus if your campus doesn’t already do this. If your campus provides free condoms (which they probs do), use that as leverage (ie. ‘sex is optional, menstruation is not. so why do we have free condoms and no free pads?’)

If you’re an older student, get involved with younger students (orientation week and such activities are good for this). Show the freshman that you can be a successful and well-liked woman without shaving your legs, wearing heels, wearing make-up, etc. Mentor these young women. Offer to go for coffee or proofread essays. 

Come to class looking like a human being. Be visibly make-up less, unshaven, unfeminine, etc. to show off the many different ways of being a woman

Talk to the custodial staff and learn their names. (I know there are men who work in this profession, but it is dominated by low-income women) Say hi in the hallways, ask them about their lives, show them they’re appreciated

Be explicit with your language. When you are talking about sex-based oppression, say it. Don’t say ‘sex worker’ when you mean survivor of human trafficking. This tip is obviously a bit tricky in terms of overt TERFyness, so use your best judgement

That’s all from me for now! Feel free to add your suggestions and remember that feminism is about action

[lokiskitten]

I NEED a part two of “first time”

Loki Laufeyson | first time pt2

Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

plot : ( refer to pt1 ) after experiencing a first intercourse together, Loki insists on crossing the path towards the end. With only the fear of being seen by the other variants holding you back, you end up agreeing to follow the excited man’s proposition.

warnings : smut, extremely short moment of none-con followed by a consent check up, mention of virginity loss ( male ), unprotected sex ( pls for the love of god wrap it ) and lowkey sub!Loki.

“Now that was... ah. Nice.” You affirmed tiredly, knees colliding with one another though your feet remained slightly parted. Your organism was still trying to wash away the orgasm you had just reached with Loki’s divine help. Meanwhile, the god of mischief carried on staring at your body, resembling a scientist who led an experience on the human anatomy. He wanted to ask a thousand questions, but didn’t feel brave enough to dare to open his mouth just yet. In fact, he felt as if he was disturbing an intimate and personal moment of yours. It nearly managed to make the god feel flustered and awkward.

Looking closer, Loki was able to spot your own love juice dripping out of your entrance, coating your swollen lips and settling a deep emotion of lustful hunger within his soul. He wanted more, he needed more- and only you could potentially satisfy his crippling and frustrating sexual appetite at the moment. His hands rested on your knees, forcefully parting your thighs before he allowed himself to slip in between. Upon feeling a weight suddenly add up against your own mass, your eyelids moved open which allowed you to make eye contact with Loki. You felt surprised to see him there, and even more surprised to witness him behaving in such a way.

“What are you doing?” You asked, attempting to move your chest up with the help of your elbows- which led Loki to back away to sit down on his knees between your legs. “Well, I’m doing the thing. Isn’t that what people do next?” He explained, earning a frown from your shocked self. Though, you were still willing to be patient with him. “No, you always ask. Always. Do you understand?” You affirmed seriously, earning a shy nod from the demigod who didn’t really enjoy to be treated like a child. Though his aim wasn’t to ruin this moment by starting unnecessary drama- especially as he appeared to be in the wrong. But once this small moment of embarrassment had passed by, Loki felt like explaining the reason to why he appeared so frustrated.

“Look, I have a very painful..” he began, only to end up being cut off by your staring self who admired the long shape traced from within his pants. It was too big to miss. “Boner.” You finished before looking up at him, earning an embarrassed gasp coming from the demigod. “And I really want you.” He finished on a nearly sorrowful tone adding up to a puppy face- a note that managed to reach your heart. You shot a glare at the small wooden cabin in which Mobius and the other variants were having dinner, anxiety taking over your organism at the thought of potentially being seen or caught by them. “I don’t know..” You explained, earning a frown from Loki sitting before you who didn’t appear to understand why you were refusing the offer after you had both experienced such fun.

“Aw come on. What could possibly go wrong?” He cheered, giving your shoulder a gentle fist kick in order to lift the mood. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help but remain stoic. “Well, loads of things in fact.” You responded, leading Loki’s smile to drop instantly. “What if we get caught? That would be an embarrassment I’d never be able to get over. Not to mention the whole pregnancy issues if your princess self isn’t capable of pulling out at the right time.” You carried on, offering Loki multiple exemples to why this upcoming sexual intercourse could possibly go wrong. Ironically enough, he appeared more concerned and offended over the fact that you had just called him princess rather than getting worked up about the horrible consequences program you had just settled.

After spending a couple of seconds making useless eye contact with the raven haired man, you ended up breaking this one in order to shoot another glance towards the wooden cabin. The surroundings appeared calm, which managed to ease your anxiety. Besides, after leading you to cum in such an incredible way, you believed that maybe Loki deserved a release too- adding up to the fact that you’d feel proud to be the woman who would take care of breaking through his virginity. Turning your head back towards his, a nod was the only gesture that escaped your body. It instantly managed to lift the demigod’s mood. “Really?..” Loki asked, and that in order to make sure you weren’t tricking him, the most famous trickster.

“Yeah, lets give it a try.” You responded on a friendly tone, a discreet smile adorning your features as you watched Loki summon a blanket for the two of you. He had probably noticed the way you appeared to avoid dust with the help of your pants, and wanted to offer you better then this piece or clothing to protect your sensitive skin. However, he appeared to organize this upcoming event in quite a religious way. He made sure to keep the blanket flat against the floor, brushing away the wrinkles until you finally stopped him by taking ahold of his wrist. “This is the part where you take your clothes off.” You affirmed, underlining the fact that he probably should stop worrying about the wrong matters especially as you were running out of time.

“Oh, right right.” He answered politely, taking a seat on the green pled before he began to precariously unbutton his TVA shirt. You watched as his tone muscles were revealed, his abs shifting as he got rid of his upper piece of clothing for good. This checkpoint led you to look up at his greenish eyes again, the two of you exchanging a smile before he began to go for his belt. The shape of his hard member was still visible through his trousers, a length that would soon be set free once Loki would finally get rid of his pants. No shame or embarrassment seemed to fill his organism upon his lower clothes being pulled down to his knees- his crotch being revealed to your respectful sight. In contrary, Loki appeared more than proud of himself for finally getting to go through such a thing, which held him back from accumulating negative emotions.

Your two naked selves then laid down on the blanket, wrapping your arms around one another’s body and engaging in a rather friendly but passionate hug. You enjoyed this warm and safe physical contact, and you expected Loki to enjoy it too. The sensation of his moist tip rubbing against your stomach only made it better- as you still felt amazed regarding the size of his member. It combined both generous length and girth, and was also gifted with the perfect shape any woman, or man, could ever ask for. “You smell nice..” he affirmed, his nose being stuck to the crook of your neck as you happily passed your hands through his black hair. He ended up looking up at you, pressing a shy and respectful kiss to your lips. You smiled.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to roll around, switching to Loki now resting on top of you. He smiled down out you out of pure excitement, his tip already trying to find a way into your entrance- as clumsy as his hips could be. After taking notice that he appeared to have a hard time lining himself up with your hole, you slipped a hand down between your legs and gave his balls a gentle caress, earning a couple of sensitive moans coming from your excited partner. However, your hand then proceeded to slither it’s way up his shaft, delicate digits wrapping around this one’s girth in order to move it to where it should and wanted to be. When you felt like Loki was now ready to carry on on his own, your hand made its way back up to his shoulder before passing underneath his arm and wrapping around his smooth and muscular back.

The raven haired man looked down at you with slight panic in his eyes upon being aware that a single hip thrust of his could begin the intercourse, his shoulders now having to carry a great responsibility he simply wasn’t ready to fail. Unfortunately, Loki once again appeared to struggle with pushing himself in. Even when looking down at your crotch, he still didn’t manage to properly slide inside of you. However, upon taking notice of his distress again, you agreed to slip your hand back down to his groin, taking a gentle hold of his shaft which you locked between your thumb and index finger before offering him a little bit of help regarding penetration. Thankfully, his cock was now able to slide inside of you on it’s own even if it remained a slow process.

Moving your hand away, you allowed Loki to fully take over the penetration process as you watched his facial expressions clench and contract. Eventually his eyelids shut close, hips colliding with yours as his tip dangerously brushed against your sensitive cervix. You could tell that this was brand new for him, and that he visibly had a hard time handling it. “You’re doing amazing.” You affirmed empathetically, your hand gently caressing his flexed biceps. Meanwhile, Loki couldn’t help but focus onto the warmth your walls provided him, his brain still attempting to process how nice it felt to finally get to be coated in a woman’s love juices. It was tight, moist, and warm- long story short : the perfect environnement for his needy member.

“Maybe try to give moving a try..” you proposed shyly, your organism beginning to feel more than overwhelmed by Loki’s filling presence inside of you. After hearing about this offer, Loki began to slowly back away from your crotch, shiny length, which was coated in your love juice, sliding out of you with relative ease. The two of your moaned, though you appeared calmer than your friend at first- who you didn’t forget was currently going through his first intercourse ever. Therefore, judgment wasn’t present. It didn’t take long for a regular thrusting process to take place, your overly sensitive walls nicely reacting to the friction caused by Loki’s cock especially after getting to orgasm beforehand. Your arms remained wrapped around his back, the two of you rocking back and forth against the green blanket.

“You’re doing so good..” you whispered in his ear, eyelids remaining closed as your hand had now taken ahold of his long raven hair. Your main goal was to enhance him through this event, and give him the happiness and recognition he clearly deserves as a bed partner. However, your natural tightness adding up to the more than large size of his girth was overstimulating Loki’s genitals, sending shockwaves of pleasure down his shaft and straight into his tensed balls which repetitively bumped against the area located beneath entrance. “Don’t forget to- to pull out.” You begged breathlessly, his thrusts becoming more primal and intense now that he had gained some extra self esteem regarding the situation.

You couldn’t help but grow worried and work yourself up over this intercourse’s potential end, wondering if the man on top of you was going to be able to control himself and pull out before his cum could penetrate into your womb. Thankfully, this annoying state didn’t last for long and you soon found yourself lost into lust again. Your arms wrapped around his neck, teeth gently biting down onto his earlobe as you allowed yourself to tug on it in a primal yet harmless manner. Loki seemingly appeared to appreciate this move, another wave of moans exiting his mouth as he unexpectedly pulled out of your cunt in order to allow his own hand to wrap around his shaft.

A couple of pumps were enough to see white liquid spring out of his urethra, the sperme landing on your stomach and staining your delicate skin. You were both left breathless, for nearly the exact same reason as one another. Resting your hand onto your chest, you panted whilst looking down at the substance on your tummy which appeared surprisingly appetizing. “Loki..” you moaned gently, fingers brushing against one of the stained parts of your stomach before you brought your digit up to your lips. Even if you hadn’t tasted many, his cum appeared different than the rest on the gustative level. “That was amazing.” You affirmed with a smile, extending your arm for him to join you on the blanket. You were craving for his touch, more than you had ever craved anything before.

[ part one available right here ]

As requested, here’s part two! I hope it was enjoyable for you guys to read. Don’t hesitate to leave feedback, it means tons. Stay safe and happy❤️

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat. 

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family. 

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other. 

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her. 

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble. 

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju. 

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.” 

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well. 

Maybe a little too well. 

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves. 

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow. 

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?” 

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?” 

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?” 

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo. 

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast. 

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap. 

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words: 

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.” 

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night. 

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.  

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice. 

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real. 

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length. 

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life. 

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.” 

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset. 

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.  

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.” 

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.  

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love. 

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style. 

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out. 

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep. 

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day. 

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe. 

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom. 

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today. 

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.” 

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—” 

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up. 

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook. 

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better. 

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back. 

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back. 

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal. 

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.” 

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel. 

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire. 

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle. 

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.” 

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already. 

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.” 

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?” 

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.” 

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway. 

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.” 

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.” 

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.” 

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.  

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.” 

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?” 

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.” 

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”  

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open. 

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect. 

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse. 

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?” 

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.” 

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you. 

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.” 

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook. 

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?” 

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you. 

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out. 

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his  cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.” 

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776. 

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted. 

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is. 

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge. 

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships. 

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar. 

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.  

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red. 

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten. 

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft. 

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.” 

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath. 

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.” 

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.” 

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?” 

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.” 

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple. 

“You miss her?” 

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” 

“Did you talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix. 

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.” 

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.” 

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.” 

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special? 

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?” 

“What?” 

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.” 

“But it works!” 

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.” 

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.” 

“Bumble.” 

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help." 

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are. 

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun. 

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.” 

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.” 

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world. 

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours. 

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt. 

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid. 

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all. 

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on. 

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck. 

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room. 

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear. 

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.” 

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo. 

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table. 

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that. 

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination. 

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.” 

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.” 

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question. 

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. 

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.” 

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.” 

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm. 

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college. 

Or are you? 

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine. 

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie. 

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in. 

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out. 

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?” 

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.” 

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”  

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids. 

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat. 

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.” 

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus��I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.” 

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?” 

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi. 

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you. 

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint. 

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation. 

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse. 

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?” 

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!” 

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger. 

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once. 

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps. 

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it. 

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck. 

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.” 

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab. 

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers. 

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters. 

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly. 

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly. 

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late. 

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.” 

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.” 

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen. 

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case. 

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.” 

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen. 

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you. 

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.” 

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.” 

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?” 

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room. 

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry. 

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes. 

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper. 

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile. 

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow. 

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom. 

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.  

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now. 

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists. 

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine. 

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?” 

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.” 

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey. 

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?” 

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide. 

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?” 

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out. 

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.” 

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.” 

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble. 

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?” 

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine. 

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?” 

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare. 

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.” 

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back. 

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.” 

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?” 

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?” 

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you. 

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.” 

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.” 

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four. 

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.” 

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones. 

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.” 

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk. 

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—” 

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table. 

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?” 

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment. 

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.” 

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor. 

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?” 

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.” 

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener. 

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message. 

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.” 

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.” 

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about  Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.” 

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her. 

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning. 

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.” 

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue. 

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.” 

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late. 

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not. 

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.” 

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—” 

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—” 

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.” 

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.” 

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you. 

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace. 

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon. 

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly. 

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough? 

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets. 

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far. 

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things. 

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled. 

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship. 

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.” 

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night. 

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring. 

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob. 

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.” 

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel. 

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in. 

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it. 

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.  

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home. 

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think. 

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open. 

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again? 

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.” 

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?” 

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope. 

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?” 

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding. 

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.  

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.” 

“Only recently,” you frown. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ” 

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.” 

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?” 

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.” 

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!” 

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.” 

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.” 

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—” 

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!” 

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth. 

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow. 

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view. 

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.” 

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?” 

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.” 

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.” 

 Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them? 

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.” 

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins. 

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree. 

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms. 

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not. 

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.” 

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep. 

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall. 

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan. 

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers. 

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?” 

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.” 

“But you still love him?” 

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered. 

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?” 

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.” 

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?” 

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.” 

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.” 

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides. 

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.” 

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper. 

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between. 

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you. 

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.” 

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.” 

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.” 

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now. 

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries. 

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when  you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame. 

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.” 

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter. 

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late. 

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup. 

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?” 

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.” 

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.” 

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?” 

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.” 

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.” 

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday. 

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories. 

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle. 

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story. 

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you. 

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?” 

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other. 

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.” 

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.” 

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste. 

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent. 

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.” 

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.” 

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle. 

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.” 

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter. 

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college. 

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.” 

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?” 

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.” 

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.” 

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.” 

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing. 

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level. 

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him. 

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM. 

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him. 

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war. 

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend. 

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window. 

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer  pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave. 

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would. 

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.” 

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.” 

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.” 

“Huh?” 

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?” 

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—” 

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.” 

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list. 

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.  

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time. 

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?” 

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—” 

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader.  “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands. 

“Mean by what?” 

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats. 

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present. 

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream. 

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another. 

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook. 

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook. 

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend. 

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward. 

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance. 

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet. 

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. 

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.” 

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.” 

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.” 

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine. 

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread. 

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth. 

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?” 

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout. 

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”  

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.” 

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy. 

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease. 

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases. 

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past. 

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.” 

“I wish you did, too.” 

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was  sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away. 

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side. 

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be. 

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style. 

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries. 

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.” 

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?” 

“Jungkook…” 

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!” 

“Jungkook—” 

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing. 

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh. 

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish. 

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face. 

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.” 

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.” 

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.” 

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air. 

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.” 

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.” 

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.” 

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace. 

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.” 

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard. 

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer. 

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.” 

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin. 

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.” 

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage. 

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.” 

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his. 

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking. 

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies. 

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length. 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.” 

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.” 

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.  

“Please, baby.” 

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.” 

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?” 

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy. 

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?” 

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,” 

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey. 

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture. 

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.” 

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more. 

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.” 

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain. 

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!” 

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.” 

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence. 

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits. 

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—” 

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies. 

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.” 

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather. 

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other. 

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted. 

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot. 

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?” 

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”  

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully. 

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.” 

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt. 

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.” 

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully. 

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom. 

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight. 

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!” 

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!” 

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat. 

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?” 

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.” 

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting. 

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.” 

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?” 

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?” 

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.” 

“Then the hotel room?” 

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position. 

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?” 

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.” 

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!” 

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants. 

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together. 

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…” 

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love. 

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take. 

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone. 

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.” 

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.” 

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.” 

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?” 

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.” 

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.” 

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted? 

“You know I love you, right?” 

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?” 

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.” 

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.” 

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.  

[honeytae]

I didn’t know you had a thing for bandanas.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIV! omg how do i even start...you’re not only one of my favorite people on this site but literally one of my favorite souls on this earth. you radiate warmth, wit, and yes...thottery :) so of course i had to write some grammys tae smut for you, right? of course i did. i love you so much, i hope you have a fabulous day and i’m sending you so so many hugs! happiest of birthdays to you @taetaespeaches, my sister wife, my twin flame, the best honey boy min enthusiast, my favorite wholesome thot! i love you i love you i love you <3

genre: smut (ofc)

warnings: GRAMMYS TAEHYUNG, suggestive texting mentions, tae’s a Tease™️, heavy petting and groping, grinding/dry humping, fingering, brief nipple play, there’s a handjob or two, unprotected sex (stay safe!), mild dirty talk and profanity, this is pretty much just filth i do apologize

word count: 2.7k

“Oh my god.” 

Huffing, you tossed your phone back onto the counter, staring back at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, lips parted in disbelief. You could not believe Taehyung, truly. He could be a tease, of course, but tonight he was on another level. 

The number of photos, that could only be described as none other than thirst traps, you’d been sent throughout the night was dizzying.

Spanning from the time he was getting ready for the Grammy’s red carpet to when he was backstage in that goddamn bandana for the Old Town Road performance, you’d already stashed them in a hidden folder, pulling them back up on your screen whenever your brain drifted to them again. Which, admittedly, had been a lot over the past few hours. 

Despite traveling overseas for the award ceremony together, you could not attend the show with him for obvious reasons. Truly, you didn’t mind. You weren’t about the glitz and glamour anyway; but fuck, he really wasn’t making it easy on you. 

In addition to the multiple professionally taken shots of your boyfriend at the show beginning to circulate, your texting conversation with him consisted of only attachment after attachment at this point, eyes practically bulging out of your head with each scroll of your thumb and hooking you in for more in his absence from your hotel room.

And that had been your only activity for the night until you decided to part from the television and get ready for bed. 

Groaning when your phone began buzzing repeatedly on the marble, you set the washcloth you’d been running over your face atop the surface, peeking at the screen and rolling your eyes when you saw your boyfriend’s name across the top of it.

Swiping your thumb across the flashing display, you lifted the phone to your ear, leaning your stomach against the counter as you mumbled a greeting. 

“Hey, why didn’t you respond?” He asked immediately, making you chuckle at his bluntness. 

“I’m still processing the information you’ve provided me with, Tae.” You responded, hearing the man’s deep chuckle reverberate through the device. 

“What information is that, love?” 

You could hear the amused teasing in his voice, smug grin prominent on his face as he awaited your reply. 

“The endless shirtless selfies, Taehyung. That is the information I’m referencing.” You said, thinking back on the several attachments you’d gotten notifications for over the course of the night, each time Taehyung was changing his outfit followed by a photo of him nearly naked in the mirror backstage.

“I thought they were tasteful.” He teased, giggling when you groaned on the other side of the call. 

“Biting your lip while gripping your bulge? Oh yeah, I’m sure Army’s would agree. Very tasteful.” You teased back, the man humming deeply.

“I don’t share those things with Army though, because those are for you only.” He smirked, you mirroring his hummed reply with a slight smile.

“When are you coming back?” You asked, tapping your fingernails against the surface beside the basin of the sink.

“We need to do one more interview, then we can leave.” He answered, a member of the staff speaking in the background followed by Hoseok’s laugh ringing out through the room.

You sighed in response, quiet enough that you thought he wouldn’t hear it. That thought was proven wrong almost immediately as he chuckled, the phone shuffling in his grip as the voices in the background turned to muffled noise. 

“What’s wrong, hm? Miss me?” He lowered his voice to presumably not be heard by others, his husky tone causing you to swallow a harsh gulp, thankful you weren’t video calling so you could play along with his little game.

“Mm, not particularly. I just wanted to play GTA with Kook.” You teased, smirking at Taehyung’s scoff, hairs raising on your arms as he chuckled into the phone and through your speaker.

“Alright. Well, you can expect Kook soon.” He said, tone smug as he heard the breath hitch in your throat. 

“Love you.” He murmured into the phone before abruptly hanging up, leaving you clutching your phone with a racing heart as you anticipated your boyfriends’ arrival. 

Trying to fight the now strengthened desire for your man, you blocked out the images from tonight along with the tone of his deep honeyed voice through the phone the best you could, reaching for your soap pump with a sigh. 

“Unbelievably rude.”

The silence of your room was awfully loud as you drew out the remaining steps of your skincare routine, hoping that if you took long enough then there would be less empty waiting time for your boyfriend. Your incredibly attractive boyfriend who you could not wait to get your hands on.

Your eyes continually darted to the timestamp on your lock screen, sighing each time as only a few minutes had passed since the last time you checked. 

If Taehyung could see how desperate you were acting right now, he’d surely have that god damn smirk on his face, one that would probably have your jeans unbutton themselves beyond your own control. 

Heaving another sigh, you distractedly stretched your neck from side to side, scrunching your face up in a grimace at the resulting snaps.

The closing of your eyes combined with the loud rush of water from the faucet seemed to drown out the sounds you’d eagerly been waiting for, nearly jumping out of your skin at the sudden addition of Taehyung next to you through the reflection of the mirror above the sink. 

His hair was still styled over that black and white patterned bandana, matching with the shirt that exposed just a touch of his bicep and a whole lot of his chest. 

Despite the immediate salivating of your tongue, you kept your shocked expression on your face, breathing out his name as you leaned a hand on the counter beside you. 

“Fuck, you scared me.” You placed your other hand over your heart, Taehyung grinning before reaching his arm out to pull you into his chest, pressing a kiss to each cheek before leaning back to smile at you.

“Sorry, love. Ended up leaving a little earlier.” He explained, smirking as your eyes glued to the bandana still tucked under the hair over his forehead. 

“Hm, I don’t mind.” You said, blowing a breath past your lips at the man’s appearance. 

“What?” Taehyung asked in reference to the action, his eyes blinking back at you as your hand traced over his long hair curled to perfection. 

“You look really fucking good right now. Not that I need to tell you that.” You mumbled distractedly, fixing the strip of fabric laying over the top of his forehead, Taehyung teasingly raising his eyebrows at you with a swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip.

“No, please do.” He said smugly, causing you to snap out of your lust-struck daze as you tapped at his shoulder with a snort.

“What an ass.” 

“That’s what I’m saying.” He responded, smoothly trailing his fingers down a bit lower to rest on your butt and gently grope the globes, pulling you flush to his chest as his darkened eyes held contact with yours. 

“Can you ever get your head out of the gutter?” You tried to say, gasps escaping every few words as he began pushing your hips into his, effectively grinding his erection into you.

“Hm,” he pretended to ponder for a moment, “with you, no.” He said, placing his hand on your jaw to pull you into a long-awaited kiss, soft yet sensual in the way he smoothed his lips over yours. 

Your breath caught in your throat as Taehyung’s hand slipped beneath the hem of your underwear, letting his thumb glide over your clit as his tongue invaded your mouth. 

The action was needy, as was the manner his fingers gathered the slick leaking between your folds to push up to fill your hole. Taehyung swallowed your moans as his fingers played in your pussy, his deep chuckles vibrating against you while his fingers dutifully pumped into your entrance. 

“Like that, baby?” He mumbled against your bottom lip, your mouth hanging open as you whined incoherently in response. He groaned at the spasming of your walls around his appendages, leaning his forehead against yours as he backed you up against the counter to stabilize your increasingly wobbly legs.

“God, you drive me crazy.” He grunted, rutting his hips into your thigh as you moaned his name once again. 

Squealing as he suddenly withdrew his hands from your underwear and lifted you up on the counter by your hips, you watched with raised brows as the man ripped your pajama bottoms and panties down your legs, easily tossing them onto the tile floor and leaving your lower half bare on the cold marble counter beside the sink. 

“Eager, are we?” You murmured, Taehyung smirking as he shuffled out of his pants, his boxers soon to follow as you took the liberty of removing his t-shirt from your torso. 

“And you aren’t?” He posed, taking the shirt from your hands and tossing it somewhere below him in the mess of clothes piling up beside his feet. Tugging you by the thighs, he smiled as you helped him by scooting to the edge of the counter, wrapping your arms around his neck as his own hands landed on your lower back.

“I didn’t say that.” You said, fingers tousling the fluffy hair at the crown of his head as he hummed, playing around with the clasp of your bra until it released with a small sound, the cups immediately releasing your breasts as he pulled the straps down your arms. 

“I consider it a good thing that we can’t keep our hands off each other.” He shrugged, gently prying your arms from around his neck to successfully remove the bra dangling from your wrists, pressing kisses to the pulse points of your wrists before laying them down in your lap as his hands instead landed on your breasts. 

You sighed as his thumbs easily circled your nipples, his eyes glued to your chest as he watched the buds twist into peaks with a small grin. 

“So pretty.” He whispered, making you blush as you distractedly reached for his dress shirt, snapping the buttons out of the holes in a haste to see his bare chest. The task proved to be difficult with Taehyung’s increasing pressure on your nipples, a knowing smirk on the man’s face as your pleading eyes desperately darted to his own. 

“Tae, this shirt is really testing my patience.” You sighed, the man chuckling as he reluctantly removed his hands from your chest to assist you in unbuttoning the shirt that had nearly killed you while watching him perform a couple of hours ago. 

As soon as he undid the fifth or sixth button down, your hands were on the revealed skin, feeling him like a madwoman as he lovingly chuckled at your actions. Tossing the loose material to the floor, he finally stood before you completely naked, placing a hand on the back of your head to guide you to his lips in yet another heated kiss.

Taehyung hummed deep in his throat as you reached down to pump his fully erect cock in your hand, taking the hint as you lined him up at your entrance with a push of your other hand on his shoulder. 

“Love you so much.” He mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut as he pushed his hips forward to sink into you, each inch providing you with a delicious burn as you let your head rest on his shoulder, his lips pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head as he finally fit himself snugly inside of you.

Starting off slow, he only slightly moved his cock back before pushing it in again, causing you to mewl as he started teasingly circling his hips inside of you. The grinding was nice, sure, but it gave you no real relief. Which he was perfectly aware of.

“Fuck me harder, Tae.” You whimpered out as he continued sensually grinding into you, taking your bottom lip into your mouth as he stopped his actions completely.

“Hm? What was that, love?” He cockily raised his brows at you, grinning at the look of pure frustration on your face.

“Fuck me harder. Taehyung.” You practically spat out, the man tutting at your tone.

“Where are your manners, love?” 

“Tae,” you whined, “please just fuck me.” You begged, Taehyung simpering as he picked up your calves, resting your legs in the crooks of his elbows to push your knees to your chest and effectively spread you wider for him. 

Picking up the pace of his thrusts, he groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing around his cock, praising you with a moan of your name as he tilted his head up toward the ceiling. 

With you leaning forward to kiss his jaw, Taehyung broke eye contact with the vent in the ceiling, instead focusing on you as he continued rolling his hips into yours. His eyes held yours with intense force, only faltering with a flutter of his eyelids when your walls began spasming around him.

“Shit, I love your pussy, baby.” He breathed, placing his lips back on yours when you responded with a wanton moan, placing his hands on your hips to glide you along his length in addition to the force he pounded into you with.

You whimpered at the sudden speed in which his hips slapped into yours along with the depths he managed to hit with the angle, clutching onto his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself as he groaned your name.

“Fuck, oh my god.” You cried as he sped up the pace of his hips, gradually working himself up into an almost inhumane speed as he quite literally attempted to split you open with his cock. His grunts punctuated each thrust, hot breaths fanning out onto your neck as he buried his face in your skin.  

“T-tae.” You stuttered as the tip of his cock repeatedly tapped at your cervix, Taehyung responding with a deep moan as he glanced down between your bodies, eyes glued to where you met over and over again as your walls tightened the hardest they had yet around him.

“Cum, baby.” He panted, lifting his eyes to watch your own squeeze shut with a gasp, the man himself falling over the edge at the sight. Nothing could ever get him off like watching you orgasm.

As he hastily pulled out of you, you whined at the sudden emptiness in your core, leaning your head back against the mirror in exhaustion as your droopy eyes watched him jerk his cock using your slick, only a few moments passing before translucent white liquid shot out from his tip and onto your stomach. 

Sitting up from the mirror, you fell into Taehyung’s arms, the man chuckling a bit as he rubbed his palm over your spine. 

“I love you.” He murmured, breaths finally evening out as he held you in his arms, your own loosely wrapped around his waist with your fingers caressing the skin of his hip.

“I love you too,” you leaned back to look at him, forehead pressing to his as you gave him a lazy smile, “and I’m so proud of you. You were amazing tonight.” You said, swiping his long bangs out of his eyes as he shyly grinned at you, his flustered reaction at your words causing you to giggle fondly. 

“I couldn’t have done any of it without you.” He admitted, misty eyes making you cup his cheeks as you pressed your lips to the plush skin on either side of his nose. 

“Of course you could have. You’re amazing Tae, don’t underestimate that.” You soothed, the man’s lips quirking up slightly as he tipped his chin to place his lips on yours. 

“Okay.” He whispered against your bottom lip, chuckling breathily when you began pressing feather-light kisses to his lips, exaggerating them with loud “muah”s making Taehyung’s eyes shut as he laughed. 

“You good?” You asked, his irises sparkling back at you as he nodded in confirmation.

“I’m great.” He said, reaching up to push his hair back off his forehead, the copious amounts of gel his stylists had put in his hair throughout the night defying the action and making it fall back onto the skin anyway.

“Good. Now clean your cum off my stomach, I wanna go to bed.”

[gojology]

Intense Healing Session.

the request :

pairing : caring! healer! fem! reader x gojo satoru hehhehe warnings : cursing, implications of seggs after sum intense kissing, pet names wordcount : 2.0k a/n : yoyo i’m back!! semi-long one for u all. cute request, anon. sorry for late delivery. pls dont rate me a 1/5 on yelp </3 hehe the title is kinda funny LOL

     You’re beginning to hate Satoru.        Surprisingly, it’s not for the reasons people dislike him- he’s a bit of a blabbermouth, never quite learned how to seal his lips just because of how important he was to the jujutsu world. Unsurprisingly, he gets away with everything because he’s attractive and crucial to defeating curses, and there’s no shame in admitting it.       People hate Satoru for his destructive personality, he’s carefree and doesn’t let anything get to him. This may be a good trait for the untrained eye, but look carefully and you’ll see just how hectic he gets. It’s manageable since you don’t have to deal with him at the level of the Jujutsu elders.       You don’t particularly hate him for this, though.       It’s the fact he puts you through so much work, for almost no reason. You’re a healer- something very important to the quaint school that you worked at. Healing abilities are often overlooked, it’s often said that if a jujutsu sorcerer can’t provide offense, then they’re not much of a jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you have little to no talent in the battlefield, so essentially you’re a meat shield to everyone.      It was a growing occurrence to see him after every business trip, slightly roughed up but not enough to kill him. He comes into the room you share alongside Shoko, almost always when she’s not there, takes his shirt off, and displays a wide variety of cuts and bruises on his back like he’s a museum. You’d scold him, asking him how he’d get such abrasions with his infinity up constantly- but Satoru would hum, unanswering while you’re working your hands on his back.      Maybe you’re overreacting- but something tells you he does this on purpose, perhaps to fuck with you, and you’re bitter about it.     So it wasn’t surprising to see him whistle a sweet tune, hands shoved deep into his uniform pockets, casually strolling into the medical attention room for the fifth time this month.    “Gojo Satoru.” you say his full name aloud, just so he knows how much you hate his presence. Turning to look at you, his face displays innocent shock, but you just know that he’s probably rolling around in the inside seeing how riled up you got just by him stepping into the room.     Drained, lifeless eyes stare back at his childish bright ones.     Gojo places a hand on his chest defensively, “Well, I’ll be, Y/N. When did you want to disrespect your senior?” he snickers before shutting the door behind him. “You mad?”      “Unbearably. Lucky I care for you.” you utter back, venom dripping in your words, you feel like you’re making a fool of yourself as you shove your lunch aside that you had been enjoying on the tiny table next to you, sighing and rubbing your temples, tugging and effectively straightening your coat. “Get on the bed, let me work my magic.”     Looking at you with a shit-eating grin, he whistles, placing his elbows against the mattress, his roughened hands caressing his cheeks. “Working your magic? I’m interested. Tell me more, Y/N. Does this involve... Getting naked, perhaps?”     Staggering, you give him a dirty glare, “Satoru! I’ve been working my ass off like every week to get you all healed up, and you dare be perverted in my-”     “No cursing, lil girl! You wouldn’t want this rubbing off on Yuuji-kun and everyone else, would you? You’d be charged with a felony!” leaving you stunned for a second time- the first time being when his lanky figure strode into the room like it was his room- you don’t even know how to respond. How could one possibly be so... Ungrateful for your work?  Well, then again the elders existed... That was besides the point, though. You’re not even sure if Yuuji knows what the word fuck or shit is.     He drags his finger lazily along the cot, drawing various shapes into existence, giving you a skeptical look. “Not gonna answer? Stumped?”     He broke through your train of thought, and you shake your head. “Satoru, I don’t know any sort of fighting jujutsu, but I will fucking pulverize you and make sure you’ll be dust by the time I’m done with y-”     Butting in, he raises his hand as a way to shut you up. “Honeybun, you’re an amazing jujutsu sorcerer, but I hope you realize why they call me the strongest of all time. If you haven’t noticed, it’s because I have a constant shield. The closest you can get to doing that is maybe poking me.”     Giving him a snooty face, you’re frankly about to push him out of the room with sheer willpower and hatred alone. It seems he realizes this, a moment of adoration flickering across his eyes before finally neutralizing. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop playing with you. You’re so cute when I do though, like a little... Rabid raccoon! How can I not resist?”     It’s difficult to tell if that’s a compliment or an insult, with Satoru, it could be several things. But, you’re still slightly flattered, knowing him he’d go out of his way to lengthen his insult if it was one- just another reason why you hated him. Being called a rabid raccoon was definitely not on Satoru’s top 10 utterly offensive insults.       “Shut up, Satoru. Here, take off your shirt, what did you get yourself into this time?”       He obliges with a nasty grin on his handsome features, hastily yanking off his uniform. Underneath was a very meticulously trained body, toned muscles and all. You can’t help but to also catch a glimpse of his collarbones, which were so defined it looked like it could cut your butter for your morning pancakes. You gulp, blinking, you had forgotten just how well-shaped he was in the one week you hadn’t seen him.       “No need to stare, sweetums.” he chirps, realizing your darkening cheeks. “Feed my ego any more and I’ll probably burst and my organs will decorate your walls. You can donate my body to the local college, they’ll be surprised by how top-notch they are.”       Giving him another stern, but much more sheepish gaze, he snaps his mouth shut, but a triumphant smile replaced his grin in place.      “Please, no gruesome detailing. I’d much rather my cute kitten posters.” you motion to a white cat slumbering peacefully in a basket.      “Looks just like you.” he says.      You close your eyes and pretend he’s not there, choosing to ignore yet another one of his compliments, but your heart thumps faster in your heaving chest. Heaven knows how curious your hands could get if you could see where you were touching-      “Those are my abs, Y/N. I think we’re focusing on my back.” he muses aloud in an almost teasing tone. You can already imagine how obnoxious his face is, opening your eyes hesitantly, blinking to adjust to the bright room lights. Your hands are still hovering above his abs, his gaze is upon yours, looking at you with a mix of speculation and speechlessness. Instead of his unusual smug smirk, there’s an almost coy expression on his features, which shocked you.        “How’d your hands get there? Last time I checked, abs are at the front, not the back, hmmm?”        You grit your teeth, your face flush with warmth at your sudden realization. There was no cheeky retort you could’ve possibly come up with, after all, he was right, how did your hands wander to his abs? You weren’t thinking of doing it. You weren’t interested in him either, but he was attractive. Of course you’d be too curious for your own good.. Yes, that was it..       “Your hands are still on an inappropriate place, Y/N. Except, a lil lower than last time.” he chuckles wholesomely as you jerk up, straightening yourself and clearly sweating, your arm wiping your brow and exhaling a drawn-out and awfully dramatic sigh.       “Give me a break, Satoru. I just, um, you know... Zone out.” your pitch was unconvincing, high-pitched and wavering, bringing your chances of believability to a low.      “So, this is like, the 375th time since you’ve zoned out, lil girl.” he tsks, “You’ve gotta sound convincing if you wanna fuckin lie, you know.”      “I--” you falter, now clearly a shade darker than you were just 5 minutes ago. Your heart beating so rapidly it was almost like you were running a marathon. Why was your pulse so quick? Why was everything in the room a blur besides him? Why couldn’t you focus on healing him? What was he doing to you?      “You haven’t even begun the healing process.” he murmurs, his large hands caressing your arm that was by your side. “Anything you want to tell me, pumpkin? I’m on a tight ass schedule, but I’ll let Ijichi solve that. Spit it out.”       His voice rang out high and clear amongst the hectic fight that was going inside your head, steadying your thoughts. A few moments pass by, studying him, lips moving but no words coming out. Why was it so difficult to say through the insults, you cared for him, and wanted him to be more careful? Was it because of the monster inside of you, who wanted him to get hurt, to spend his time with you, listen to his horrible compliments and giggle at the jokes he made as you worked at a snail’s pace on his back, that weren’t even funny, but was funny because of his presence in the dead room, his boyish laugh very much needed in such days of flatness?      “Satoru..” you finally muster out, his eyes flickering on you once more as he was studying the kitten poster with much boredom. “I just.. Care for you.”      “Huh.” is all he says, face falling and examining the spotless floor. “Is that all?”      Acknowledging his body language, you huff, suddenly filled with the need to defend yourself. “What else did you want me to say? I just feel like you’ve gotten yourself hurt a lot more recently and... I just, want you to be more careful. That’s all.”     “No.” he was barely audible, so you had to lean down to hear him. “No, that’s not it at all. You’re hiding something. Do you prefer me to say it?”     Puzzled, you peer at him with childlike curiosity gleaming in your eyes. What did he know about you that you didn’t? Surely, you knew all about yourself?    “You’re not that fucking dumb, are you?”     “Huh?-” you begin to speak, clearly offended, but you’re stopped.     By none other than his lips.      They’re soft, pillow-like even. A familiar warmth floods inside of you at the sudden physical contact from Satoru, except it’s amplified by 10 times. A moan slips out of your mouth, his hand against your back so suddenly you could’ve sworn it wasn’t there just a millisecond ago. His lips were mashing against yours, as if he wanted to have done this a long time ago. You hungrily push back, teasing your mouth with his tongue that slipped just barely into your mouth before indulging in you, which you thought wouldn’t had ever happened prior to this.      You grip the back of his head firmly, as if he were to escape, other hand tangled in his snow white tufts of hair. Eyelashes fluttering, heavy breathes fanning out both of your noses, your lips were sure to be swollen after this. Your tongues dueling each other, working your mouth against his. His unoccupied hands start to play with the hem of your shirt, and another moan slips out of your mouth, anxious to have progressed so far to the removal of clothing, but at this point, you’re ready for anything.    ‧₊˚✩彡.       “I don’t think Gojo-Senpai and Y/N-Senpai are just in an intense healing session.” breathed Yuuji with a terrified look in his eyes, clutching his arm that was bloodied up, his head leaned close to the firmly shut door.        Nobara looked like she was about to faint, looking at the door as if it was a several feet tall monstrosity of a curse.        “What? What are they doing in there?” Megumi knelt down to where Yuuji was, pushing his ear against the door, and immediately his eyes shot open, a traumatized look in his fearful eyes.        “What the fuck.” 

[hotpinkhoshi]

devour (m)

pairing: human!baekhyun x vampire!reader (f) genre: smut, paranormal warnings: mentions of blood, pain, monsters etc, explicit sex involving some slight dom/sub themes but not really. a lot of position switching, oral (m receiving), cursing  word count: 6.6k summary: you’re thirsty. so damn thirsty. and baekhyun is the only one that can give you what you want. it’s the last time, really the last time, you tell yourself.  a/n: hello my lovely amazing readers! thank you so much for being so patient with me these last several months, i know i haven’t been very consistent with my posting BUT i promise i’m trying. i started this piece about 3 weeks ago and my only goal was to finish it by the end of the month. thankfully i just barely finished in time! i hope you enjoy but first, a disclaimer: i haven’t read or watched anything about vampires in many years so i know there may be things that don’t technically make sense. vampire enthusiasts pls do not come for me, i did my best.  thanks to: all my followers, @jjinyounf for discussing vampire reproductive systems, & @flowerbeom​ and @jjpmoans​ for hyping me up and giving me love and encouragement whenever i need it, which is a lot!

Last time, you told yourself it was the last time. 

The last time you let Baekhyun into your apartment at half past three in the morning, so out of your mind starving that you could hardly even see straight. The last time you let him take you, command your body like it was no longer your own.

You should have known you were lying to yourself. 

You [3:28am]: are you up?

Baek [3:29am]: yea, why?

You [3:31am]: can you come over? 

After your last message, you got no response. Perhaps, you thought, he’d fallen asleep or worse, had no interest in being your blood bag for the night. You would be disappointed, but you wouldn’t blame him. 

You rolled over in bed, flopping onto your stomach as you buried your face into your pillow. Maybe you could simply push through and wait until morning, when Kyungsoo would be awake and able to help you. 

After you turned a few months ago, totally unexpectedly, it had flipped your world upside down. Kyungsoo found you, shivering and delirious by a dumpster where your fun little one night stand had left you. 

Kyungsoo was human, but he was the type of person that people trusted and allowed into their worlds, no matter who they were. As one of the general surgeons of the local hospital, he’d gotten himself into a position of substantial power over both the humans and the vampires of your city. He never used it as a weapon—only as leverage to keep the humans safe.

When he found you, he’d wrapped you in his jacket and carried you to his apartment, but you didn’t remember anything until many days later. Kyungsoo nursed you to health, providing you with a vampire crash course to prepare you for the rest of your life. Of eternity. 

Then he’d introduced you to some of his friends at a party after you were more comfortable, although you had yet to feed on a living human. There was a whole community of humans that got off on it, that lived for the pain and pleasure of letting a vampire feed on them. 

It was at this party that you met Baekhyun. He had a mischievous glint in his eye when Kyungsoo told him your name and left the two of you alone in the dimly lit, smoky club basement. Something about that look in Baekhyun’s eyes told you he knew you’d be his by the end of the night. 

The feeling, the taste, the pure ecstasy of finally consuming fresh blood was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, even when you were alive. Your senses were heightened as a vampire as it was, but as soon as his blood hit your tongue, it was like your world exploded into a million colors. 

But even though you’d been the monster drinking his blood, Baekhyun remained in control. He laid you out on his bed and pinned your wrists to the mattress with one hand, his other wrist pressed into your mouth as he forced you to feed. 

You whimpered and cried out when it was too much, when the overstimulation of his blood and the way he was rocking into you at a brutally rhythmic pace had you seeing stars. He never relented; only fucked you harder as you writhed under him. 

After that night, you never wanted anyone else. Baekhyun was the only man you wanted to feed from. With him, you didn’t feel like a monster. You didn’t feel like a thing, like a horror story to tell in the dark. 

He made you feel human again. 

Tonight, the thirst was too much to handle. It was clouding your mind and keeping you awake as you twisted and turned under the covers. You couldn’t tell if you were craving his blood or craving him, but you were too weak to care. 

You hated the thirst. It was like dehydration, tenfold. Your head hurt, your lips were dry no matter how many times you wet them, and all you could think about was warm blood sliding down your throat. It was maddening. 

The telltale sound of your apartment’s buzzer had you sitting up in bed, so quickly that it made your head spin, the noise signaling that you had a visitor down at the main entrance to your building. 

You scurried off the bed and hurried to the door, nearly running into it as you slid on the hardwood in your socks to let him in. You told yourself the eagerness to see him was only because you were thirsty, certainly nothing more.

As soon as you opened the door, you felt embarrassingly underdressed. 

Baekhyun had dyed his hair since you’d last seen him. It was now a silver blonde, perfectly messy and framing his stupidly beautiful features. He’d been out tonight, you realized. The glitter on his cheekbones gave it away. 

His hands were stuffed comfortably in the pockets of his leather jacket with a faded graphic tee underneath, and expertly tailored black jeans practically painted onto his lower half. 

You tugged the hem of your T-shirt down, even though he’d already had you in positions that you hadn’t even thought were physically possible—vampire or not. For some reason, you still felt bare in front of him in your pajama shorts and oversized tee.

“Hmm,” Baekhyun hummed as he stepped inside, letting the heavy door close behind him. He smelled like smoke and rum. “Look at you. Is someone thirsty?”

You blinked, grateful that you were incapable of blushing. As ravenous and desperate for blood as you were, the way he looked you up and down made you feel small and shy. 

“Can I?” you asked, reaching for his wrist, half tucked into the pocket of his jacket. 

“Uh-uh.” He stepped back just before your fingers brushed his skin. “You know that’s not how it works, baby. You still need to work for it.” 

If you wanted to, you could muster your strength and slam him into the door, dive for his neck and bleed him dry before he even realized what was happening. But you didn’t. You wanted this, you wanted to beg and plead until finally, he rewarded you. 

“Baekhyun,” you whispered, then dragged your tongue over the dry, cracking skin of your lips. “I’m so thirsty. I’ll do whatever you want.” 

He seemed pleased by this, judging by the way his lips turned into a familiar smirk. “I know you will. Come on, let’s go sit down.” 

You followed him to the living room obediently, watching as he made himself comfortable on the couch. He shrugged his jacket off, revealing the expanse of his forearms down to his wrists, covered in bite marks in various stages of healing. 

All from you. 

If he had chosen to get his fix somewhere else, you wouldn’t have any reason to be envious or hurt. But it filled you with a sense of pride that he didn’t, that you were the only one he allowed to taste him. 

You moved to sit next to him, but Baekhyun stopped you. He took your hand, leading you to stand in between his parted legs. 

“Knees.” 

It took one word for you to drop to the carpet, your bare knees pressing into the old scratchy shag rug you’d had for ages. He kept your fingers in his palm, rubbing his thumb idly over the back of your hand. 

“Good girl.” With his other hand, he tucked your hair behind your ear, his wrist brushing against your cheek so that you could hear the pulse beneath his skin. 

“Baek…” you began, turning slightly until your nose brushed his skin. “Just a taste. Please.”

Baekhyun lifted your chin with his finger and locked eyes with you. You filled with warmth already, just one look enough to send your mind racing with images of everything you wanted from him. His blood was further down the list than you would have thought.

“Just a taste,” he repeated. 

With that, he let go of your hand and turned slightly to reach into the pocket of his discarded jacket. When he pulled out the shiny folded metal, you gulped hungrily. 

The pocketknife brandished with a metallic click. 

It wasn’t uncommon for humans to carry weapons these days. After all, vampires weren’t the only monsters that roamed the streets after dusk, and not all vampires were quite as friendly with humans as you were. 

Your eyes followed Baekhyun’s nimble fingers as he brought the very end of his knife to his middle finger, twisting the point into his fingertip until a spot of blood appeared. 

It took every bit of self control that you possessed not to reach out in desperation for his hand and bring it to your mouth. But you knew better—you knew if you broke, Baekhyun would stand up and walk out the door like you were less than nothing to him. 

He watched you with interest as he held his finger just out of your reach, eyes dancing with that mischievous stare he had when he teased you. You would despise it if you didn’t know that eventually, he always caved. 

Finally, when your mouth had gone dry and you could feel the warm tingle that meant your fangs were about to protrude, Baekhyun brought his index and middle fingers to your mouth. 

He slipped them past the parched skin of your lips, your entire world blooming as soon as his middle finger touched the center of your tongue. You moaned, eyes falling shut. 

“Look how needy you are,” he remarked after a beat. His voice was strained, though, as if watching your display of bliss was causing him physical pain. 

He let you go for a while, maybe half a minute, before he was removing his fingers from your mouth. You couldn’t help but whine, resisting every urge not to grab at his wrist to keep him there. 

With the small amount of his blood you’d been able to milk from his finger, you already felt renewed. A surge of energy coursed through you like you’d just been injected with adrenaline. 

“What do you say?” Baekhyun asked with a cocked brow. 

You swallowed, licking any remnants of his blood from your lips. “Thank you.” 

Without a second thought, you reached for Baekhyun’s belt, fingers quickly undoing the metal buckle. Your ears picked up the quickening of his heartbeat from the moment you undid the button of his pants. 

It was no surprise that most vampire-human relationships, if not ending in death, ended in sex. Feeding, in your experience, was extremely sensual and instantly created feelings of arousal within both parties. It was almost better than sex, and when the two came together? It was euphoric. 

You were pleased to find him half-hard already by the time you got his zipper down, your hand wrapping around the length of him under the fabric of his briefs. Baekhyun inhaled sharply, holding his breath until you had pulled his cock from his underwear. 

Only a few seconds passed before you leaned forward, parting your lips to run your tongue along the underside of his member. Your eyes remained open, locked on Baekhyun’s face to gauge his reaction. 

He loved it, of course. 

With a groan, he tipped his head back, exposing his throat and sending a shockwave to your core. You wanted his throat, his neck, all of that fresh, warm blood pumping beneath his skin. But you wanted to taste it while he was inside of you. It would be worth the wait. 

Your eyes fell shut as you took his length into your mouth, deeper and deeper with each stroke until he hit the back of your throat. Unlike men you’d been with when you were human, Baekhyun made no effort to remain quiet. He was loud, and you loved it. 

If you had your way, all of your days would be filled with Baekhyun’s voice. His moans, his rough whispers in your ear, his laugh, his hums as he completed mundane tasks like wiping down the counters or tying his shoes. Deep down, you wanted it all.

“Good girl, that’s my girl,” he whispered, reaching forward to lace his fingers in your hair. He curled his hand into a tight fist, a deliciously sharp pain spreading across your scalp. 

You whimpered, lips wrapped tight and wet around him. He guided you back and forth for a while with his hand in your hair, muttering soft praises all the while. By the way his hips were twitching towards your face, you knew he was getting lost in the ministrations of your mouth. 

Baekhyun soon dropped his hand from your hair, signaling you to pull away, just in time for him to stand up and pull you to your feet. 

A squeak of surprise fell from your lips as he lifted you, hooking your legs around his waist in a simple, swift movement.

“Bed,” he said simply. 

Baekhyun carried you through your apartment as if it was his own, lips kissing and nipping at your neck as he dodged every obstacle between the two of you and the bedroom. He stopped once, in the hallway, to lean you into wall and roll his hips into your center. 

His name came out as a sigh. 

Then, finally, he dropped you onto the center of your bed. It was messy from your previous tossing around in the sheets from your thirst, but neither of you cared. Baekhyun reached for the comforter, knotted and piled together under your lower back, and easily tossed it off the bed to leave nothing but the sheets under you. 

He stood at the foot of the bed, chest heaving up and down, and ran his fingers through his hair. The look in his eyes had you squirming, ready for him to devour you in every way possible. 

“Are you still thirsty, baby?” 

Your heart clenched at the pet name, even though he always called you that, loving the way it sounded on his lips. You gulped, nodding as you batted your eyelashes. 

“Yes,” you admitted. 

“Take off your clothes,” he told you, hands reaching for his jeans, still unbuttoned, to push them down his legs. 

It took less than a second for you to obey, clutching the waistband of your shorts and shoving them off of you. You knew he liked when you kept your underwear on, just so he could use it to further torture you by keeping a layer between you. 

You slipped your thin T-shirt off, throwing it to the side and laying back into the mattress again. Baekhyun had removed his own shirt, leaving just his briefs from letting you see all of him. 

You could marvel at his body for hours—he was slender, but solid. He wasn’t much taller than you, but his shoulders were broad enough to make you feel protected in those rare moments when he held you in his arms. 

This time, though, you noticed something new. There was a handful of bruises and scratches marring his body, completely different from the puncture marks that your fangs left when you fed on him. Blinking, you furrowed your eyebrows, fingers reaching out. 

“What are-”

“No questions,” Baekhyun cut you off, reaching for your hands before they could reach their destination. His face softened, ever so slightly, when you quickly retreated, curling your hands up near your own chest. “We’re not here to talk, are we, baby?”

Just like that, he made you forget the suspicious marks on his chest, even one slash that looked particularly painful. Almost like he’d been cut by a knife.  

Watching the way he licked his lips as his eyes traveled down your body, slowly, so slowly, you were easily steered back to the task at hand. You dropped your hands to the sheets, digging your nails into the fabric as he overwhelmed each of your senses. 

Even from here, you could smell his blood. From here, you could hear the steady, strong beat of his heart, taste the alcohol and nicotine of his kiss. Your body was calling out to him and you weren’t sure how much longer you could deny what it needed. 

“Baekhyun,” you found yourself whining, hips squirming under his hungry gaze. 

His eyes snapped up to your face then, so much desire and pure lust in his stare that you felt a brand new surge of heat travel through your limbs. 

“Mm, first…” he pressed one knee down into the mattress, then the other, until he was hovering over you. “We have to see if you’re ready for me, don’t we?” 

Baekhyun led a painfully light touch down the middle of your chest with his index and middle fingers, between your bare breasts, and down the valley of your stomach at a pace that had you biting your tongue just to keep from begging him for the nth time. It would only further encourage him to play with you, of which you could only tolerate so much. 

You knew his moves by now, knew that he would trail those fingers down to your waist, over the elastic of your panties until he found the evidence of your arousal between your legs. You knew his moves, and he still had you whimpering the moment his fingers brushed your clit through your panties. 

Your toes curled into the sheets as you tried desperately not to show how crazy he was making you. He knew already, though, the moment he slid his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and found wetness between your legs. 

“Oh,” Baekhyun said with a smirk, tongue running cheekily along his lower lip. “You’re dripping, Y/N. You’re this wet just from sucking me off?”

Again, you were grateful for your inability to blush. 

“Answer me,” he demanded suddenly, eyes turning dark just the way you liked them. 

“Yes!” you replied, hips canting up towards Baekhyun’s hand. “Yes, I’m this wet just from sucking you off.” 

Even after you closed your eyes, you were sure you could see the cocky smirk that was undoubtedly painted upon his lips. He lived for this, the feeling of absolutely owning you. You, an immortal, bloodthirsty, powerful woman despite how weak he made you. 

As his fingers delved lower, just until he could dip them into your entrance, you mewled and turned your cheek towards the pillow. “Please,” you breathed. 

Baekhyun’s lips brushed your neck. “Please, what?” 

“Want you… want-“ you sighed as his fingers pushed deeper, to his second knuckle. “Want you inside.”

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t surprise you when he finally gave in, but you couldn’t complain. Though he didn’t concede without a few deep pumps of his fingers, enough to have you gasping and close to ripping the sheets apart beneath you. 

Baekhyun slipped his fingers from you and stood from the bed, his hands pushing down his briefs without hesitation. He nodded at you once, motioning with his chin to the headboard behind you. 

“On your knees, and face the headboard.” 

Renewed with your need to feel Baekhyun inside of you, you easily flipped over onto all fours, that warm sensation in your gums warning you that your fangs would extend at any moment. You didn’t fight it, hoping that it wouldn’t be much longer until you would need them. 

“Fuck,” Baekhyun exhaled, just before you felt the bed shift with his weight as he moved behind you. “You’re beautiful, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love seeing you like this.” 

You’re beautiful. 

The words echoed in your mind, though you knew they probably shouldn’t. He rarely complimented you so boldly, especially before he was inside of you, overwhelmed with pleasure and pain. Curling your hands into fists, you shoved your feelings down because you needed to. A survival instinct, really. 

Because if you fell for him, if you opened your heart, the odds were against you. You weren’t sure why he chose you, why you were the only one he allowed to feed from him, but you couldn’t let yourself see it as any more than a mutual transaction of pleasure.

Baekhyun snapped you out of your thoughts easily the moment he pressed up against you from behind, his hands molding down your sides until he could place them upon your hips. 

You hung your head between your shoulders, reaching your hands out to grip the wooden slats of your headboard. The anticipation was always the best, and worst, part of this. 

It almost scared you how well Baekhyun knew your body. He knew when he trailed his fingertips down between your shoulder blades that you’d shiver and bite your lip, using every ounce of willpower that you possessed not to beg him. Even though you were pretty sure that’s what he wanted. 

He knew when he leaned forward and kissed your shoulder, that you’d ultimately lose the battle with yourself and your dignity. You were hot, sweaty, and desperate. Desperate enough to give in and sob his name, squeezing your headboard so hard that you felt the wood splinter beneath your hands. 

Without another word, his lips still pressed to your skin, you finally felt the tip of his cock tease your entrance. You held your breath, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t drag it out any longer. 

Your wish was granted as he filled you in one long stroke, both of you releasing satisfied moans at the sensation. This... this was bliss. 

“How are you-” Baekhyun ground out through his teeth and squeezed your hips hard enough you’d probably bruise, if you could, “-always this tight? God.” 

His lips trailed across from one shoulder blade to the other, giving your body a moment to adjust to the girth of him, before he began to move. Just like every other time, he pulled sighs and moans from you that only his ears had ever had the privilege of hearing. 

“Oh, my god,” you breathed, your walls clenching around him each time he filled you, his pace making your head spin. 

“How’s it feel, baby?” Baekhyun asked, voice low next to your ear. 

It took a few more thrusts for you to be able to catch your breath to answer him, your head spinning from the way he was fucking you. It didn’t matter how many times you had him, he always made you like this. Crazy, hungry, and weak. 

“Good, so… so good.” 

“That’s right,” Baekhyun answered, one hand drifting from your hip down between your legs to find your clit. “You’re taking me so well. Think you might get to feed a little earlier than normal tonight, baby.” 

You clenched around him once more at his words. Recently, Baekhyun had started making you wait longer and longer to taste him. The last time, you’d been teetering right on the edge of your second orgasm when he finally bared his neck to you.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world--no, that moment when his blood hit your tongue had sent you towards the most electric, trembling climax you’d ever had. But you had to admit your mouth was watering already at the thought of sinking your teeth into his skin sooner rather than later. 

“Please,” you begged, pushing your ass back towards him. “Please, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun rolled his fingers around your clit in circular motions, grunting as he thrusted hard, jolting you forward. You gasped and moaned, throwing your head back in ecstasy. 

“You want that, huh? You want me to fuck you while you drink from me?” He matched each stroke of his cock inside of you with the pace of his fingers, drawing tight circles between your legs. 

“Yes,” you answered, voice cracking. You didn’t just want it, you needed it. Your fangs were showing now, and you weren’t even sure at what point they’d finally protruded from your gums, a biological response to the thought that you would be needing them soon. 

Your world spun, briefly, as Baekhyun grabbed your hips and flipped you from your knees onto your back. It was quick, a move he’d pulled on you so many times you barely even noticed until he was pushing back inside of you. 

“Oh, look at you,” he said from above you. 

Now that you could see him, you could appreciate his rosy cheeks, the way his hair stuck to his temples, and the subtle way his shoulder muscles contracted each time he moved inside you. Holding himself up with one arm, he trailed his free hand down the side of your face and brushed his thumb over your lip. 

“You’re ready to feed, aren’t you, baby? So fucking needy. You think you deserve it?” The pad of his thumb slipped inside of your mouth, daring to trace over the shape of one of your fangs. 

All you could do was nod, the ability to actually speak coherent words completely lost on you at the moment. 

You waited, as patiently as you could while he was driving you insane, for Baekhyun to make the first move. You never reached for his arm first, never lunged for his neck or his shoulder, simply because you wanted him to have that control. 

Baekhyun leaned down, his lips trailing kisses from your chin up to your jaw, until he nipped at your earlobe. “Go ahead, pretty. Take what you want.” 

The next time he filled you completely with his cock, you finally sunk your teeth into Baekhyun’s neck, that same spot that you had claimed as your own already. You whimpered as his blood filled your mouth, sliding down your throat. 

You reveled in the way he tasted and the sinful way he inhaled sharply at the initial bite before he let out a long, blissful moan. Your body was on fire now, so consumed in Baekhyun and the way he felt buried this deep inside of your heat. It was like you were invincible. 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him into you easily. It was different when you fed from him like this. You had to be careful, control yourself so that you didn’t hurt him too badly, but it tasted so damn good. 

Before you could get carried away, you forced yourself to pull back, licking any remnants of his blood from your lips. Even though you were no longer feeding, you felt the effects of his blood rushing through your body already. 

It was electric and overwhelming in the best possible way, heightened even more so by the way Baekhyun fit inside of you and stretched you so perfectly. The entire room had brightened around you as if somebody had switched on a light. 

When you were finally able to focus on the man above you, you were pleased to find that he looked just as fucked out as you felt. His arms shook, for a moment, maybe from the quick loss of blood or just the sheer pleasure of it all.

Taken by a moment of bravery, you used your legs hooked around his hips to roll your bodies over so that you could settle on top of him and let him rest for a moment. His wound would heal quickly—something to do with the healing properties of your saliva, according to Kyungsoo—but you knew he’d need a beat to regain his strength. 

The moment he filled you completely, you took in a shuddering breath and planted your hands on his chest. Baekhyun stared up at you, eyes filled with awe, lips parted as if he wanted to say something but just couldn’t find the words. 

“Wanna ride you,” you whispered, licking your lips once again. “I want to make you - make you feel good,” you admitted. 

Baekhyun’s hands found your thighs, pale and smooth, and dug his fingertips into your skin. Slowly, those fingertips trailed up to your hips to pull you closer, forcing you into a rocking motion atop of him. 

“Go on, then,” he breathed. “Make me feel good.” 

It occurred to you then that you’d been in this position with him only once before, and it only lasted a couple of minutes before he flipped you onto your back and took over control. This time, though, you wanted to take it until the end. You wanted him to see just a shred of the power you could have over him. 

Maybe you didn’t realize it until now, but you knew Baekhyun’s body just as well as he knew yours. 

You knew when you rolled your hips just right, he’d groan and his eyes would flutter closed as he fought not to thrust himself further inside of you. You knew his hands would start to roam, squeezing and groping at the smooth flesh of your hips and stomach. 

Not until Baekhyun had you learned to appreciate a man’s hands on you without feeling self conscious or try to cover up. Maybe because Baekhyun owed you nothing, there was no reason for him to lie to you or tell you what you wanted to hear. With his hands and his lips, he painted his honest truth on your body without saying a word. 

You started to lose yourself more and more with each roll, each circular grind of your hips on top of him, letting your needy moans fill the room along with his.

“Just like that,” Baekhyun praised, both hands holding firmly onto your waist. “Tell me, who makes you feel this good?”

You pressed your hands more firmly into his stomach and opened your eyes, only a little surprised to find him staring up at you again as if he was trying to drink in every inch of your body. 

Just when you were about to answer, Baekhyun bucked his hips up, pushing himself deeper inside of you—deep enough to make you shiver and lose any and all words that could have gone through your mind. 

“I-” you started, fighting the urge to close your eyes. With the way he was looking at you, you knew that Baekhyun wanted your eyes on him. “Y-you,” you could only whisper. 

“I said,” he said, through his teeth, surprising you as he sat up underneath of you so that your chests were flush together. “Who makes you feel like this?” 

“You, you, you,” you cried, feeling the familiar heat building in your belly and spreading down towards your thighs. “Baekhyun, oh, fuck…” 

“Mmm,” Baekhyun hummed, pleased, pulling you even closer to him. “Such a good girl. You know exactly who you belong to, don’t you? No one else can ever have you like this.” 

Even as far gone as you were, something about his words made you shiver, mind racing with all the ways he could mean those words. You’d accepted that you wanted more from him, more than a late night fuck and feed, but what if he felt the same way?

“No one.” 

Baekhyun pressed the words onto your lips. You clawed at his shoulders, not caring if you marked him, if you left scratches to match the mysterious half-healed slashes across his torso. You wanted him to belong to you, too, if only in one way. 

The kiss sent you closer to your high as your thoughts got the best of you, imagining what your life might be like if you could belong to each other. 

Maybe you could wake up next to him someday, help him with breakfast by frying the bacon while he mixed pancake batter. Or you could fall asleep curled up into his side, hand pressed to his chest, counting his heartbeats. 

“Close,” you whispered. “I’m so close.” 

“Me too, baby. Me too.” Baekyun pulled back first from the kiss, one hand in your hair and the other helping you keep your pace, gripped possessively around your hip.

When you finally tumbled over the edge, you could only speak incoherent mumbles and whispers of pleasure into the crook of his neck as your body bowed forward into him. 

Fireworks exploded behind your vision with your climax, a feeling you should have been used to by now, but you still found yourself practically blacking out every time. It was stronger, more powerful since you became a vampire. Like every cell of your body was exploding and putting itself back together again. 

“I got you, pretty, I’m here,” you heard Baekhyun whisper as he thrust into you from below, fucking you through the intense waves of your orgasm. 

The feeling returned to your fingertips what felt like an hour later, even though it was probably only a minute or two, and you found yourself able to open your eyes. You blinked a few times to let your eyes refocus, taking in the sight of Baekhyun so close to you, so close to his peak. 

“Baekhyun, I can’t-” you gasped, willing your trembling thighs to move so you could resume your movements on top of him. It was no use—you just didn’t have the strength. 

Baekhyun moved quickly, easily flipping your positions so that he was above you once more. He remained on his knees, grabbing one of your pillows to shove under your lower back. From this angle, he could wrap your legs around his waist and grind into you at the perfect angle. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, hands scrambling to clutch the sheets underneath of you. All you could do was watch him, devour him with your eyes the same way you had devoured him with your mouth. 

From the moment you met him, you’d thought he was beautiful. It always struck you as unfair that he appeared to be without flaws, as if you had dreamed him up. He just simply couldn’t be real. And if he was real, it was a miracle he wanted anything to do with you. 

“You’re so fucking tight,” Baekhyun said through gritted teeth. He was losing control, moving closer and closer to the edge with each deep thrust.

Your fingers squeezed and tugged at the sheets beneath your hands, the only thing you had the physical strength left to do. “Please,” you whined. “I wanna feel you come inside me.”

It didn’t take much longer, only a few more perfect rolls of his hips before he came with a loud, shuddering groan. You felt him spill inside of you, liquid heat that felt like it was never ending. This was your favorite part. It was the closest you could ever feel to him, surrounded in every way. 

Once he had come down, Baekhyun fell forward on top of you, catching himself on his forearms. He breathed deep and heavy, face buried between your neck and your shoulder. You found yourself stroking his back, tracing words into his skin that you couldn’t say out loud. 

When he finally rolled off of you, he didn’t go far, just flopped onto his side next to you. Your breath caught in your throat when he pulled you closer, one arm around your back and the other grazing your shoulder. 

Outside the window, you heard the morning birds begin their chirping. It was easier to focus on their melody than just how close Baekhyun was. Close enough to hear his pulse, quick and strong. 

“You okay?” he asked, nose nudging your jaw. “You get enough?” 

You swallowed, suddenly remembering the whole reason Baekhyun had come over in the first place. Because you both had an itch that needed to be scratched—nothing more. 

“Yeah,” you replied weakly. “I got enough.” 

But he didn’t move, just let his lips rest softly against your neck. It had never been like this before. Soft, quiet, sweet. 

“Why do you only let me feed from you?” you found yourself asking, hand on his chest gently pushing him back. “Why me?” 

Baekhyun’s eyebrows pushed together in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” you sighed, sitting up and pushing your hair out of your face. “All your feeding marks are from me. I’m the only one, right?” 

Leaning up onto his elbows, Baekhyun could only shrug as if you’d asked him if he liked sugar in his coffee. “Yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I like you,” Baekhyun offered. As if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

You blinked. Had you heard him wrong? Did he mean it… like that? 

“You like me,” you repeated. 

Baekhyun had the nerve to laugh, just a light, airy chuckle. “That’s what I said. Why am I the only one you feed from?” 

Gulping, you tore your eyes away from him and shook your head. You wanted to deny it—but you both knew it was true. You’d never told him as much, but you wouldn’t be so desperate for him if you could easily get it somewhere else. Correction: you could have, you just didn’t want to.

“Because I like you.” 

When you looked back at Baekhyun, he was grinning, the light catching on the glitter still smeared across his cheeks. He pushed himself to sit up, reaching for your hands. He tugged you closer to him. 

“Yeah? You sure you don’t just like my delicious, mouthwatering blood?” 

You scoffed and shook your head, feeling a smile tug at your lips. “It’s not that delicious.” 

Baekhyun laughed again, and this time you had to join him. It felt like it was too good to be true, him wanting you the way you wanted him. You wanted to pinch yourself, just to make sure you hadn’t blacked out and imagined this whole conversation. 

“Since that’s settled,” Baekhyun said, fingers grazing up your arm, your throat, until he was lifting your chin. You saw his affection for you in his eyes, so obvious it made you wonder if you’d been missing it all along. 

When his lips touched yours, it was a kiss unlike any other you’d shared with him before. Deep and slow, like you had all the time in the world. You sighed into his mouth, letting his lips quiet every worry you had racing through your brain. 

“Stay the night,” you said softly once you parted from him. 

Baekhyun smirked, pressing his forehead into yours. “It’s already morning.” 

You glanced at the window, noting the soft glow of the sunrise behind your curtains. “Oh. Never-”

“I’m kidding,” he cut you off, stroking his fingertips across your cheek. “Only if you promise to cook breakfast for me when we wake up. You do eat, right?”

“Yes,” you said with a laugh. “I eat. I don’t need to, but I love food too much not to.” 

“That’s my girl,” he replied in a low tone, giving you goosebumps. 

In order to keep yourself from jumping his bones, you pulled from him and climbed off the bed, searching for the comforter Baekhyun had thrown off the mattress when you’d first laid down. Once you found it, you settled on top of the sheets with him, pulling the blanket over top of your bodies. 

Your memories from before you turned were a blur. Some things you could remember, but it was like they’d happened to somebody else. You knew you’d had a series of unsatisfying one night stands, a couple of boyfriends, and a handful of crushes. You remembered the face of the man who turned you, but not his name or how it happened. A blessing, Kyungsoo told you. 

And although you couldn’t remember the faces of any of your past lovers, you knew without a doubt in your mind that you would never forget Baekhyun. 

You realized as he brought you into his arms that he didn’t just make you feel human, he made you feel like the girl you’d been before. 

[writingtoforgetreality]

Louisiana Fever (Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader)

Request: Hi! Since your ask are open could I have a imagine with bucky where him and his boyfriend (if you’re uncomfortable with male reader could you make it gender neutral pls?) are at the Wilson’s party and they talk about moving here and maybe getting a dog? Something really sweet and fluffy please? I’m having a hard time and need a bit of softness! Thanks you! (by @pastel-boy-sungjae), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: A forever changing decision was made between Bucky & you. Whatever the future held for you, you could not wait to finally start somewhere new.

Words: 1,876 [Are you proud of me?]

Warnings: language, humor, fluff, short & sweet, no pronouns used, TFATWS spoilers, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Louisiana. Home of the Wilson family. A pier alongside the turquoise sea which created comforting tunes to soothe your ears. The slight breeze that tickled your skin in the most pleasurable way possible. A peaceful place to stay & feel safe, no matter the alarming threats menacing this universe daily. Here, it appeared to be as calm as ever. Like a bubble enveloping the area here, along with its people. A dome to prevent jeopardy from taking over.

The party was hosted by Sam, assisted by his younger sister Sarah. They invited Bucky & in addition to that, he invited you. You were his partner & if he attended a get-together then he only ever did with you right by his side. At first, you disliked the idea of inserting yourself where you believed you were not wanted. Luckily, your boyfriend had some reassuring pep talks up his sleeve that convinced you to tag along.

A flight was booked & before you even knew it, Sam hugged you close to his body as he greeted you. Bucky had informed him that you would come along. To his best friend, that was a given. There was no Bucky without you & no you without Bucky. Hence why he did not explicitly say that he obviously invited you as well.

It was the first time you were introduced to Sam’s family & his friends living nearby. The locals were more than welcoming & helpful even though you were complete strangers. Plainly stated, you fell in love with this place. The atmosphere was incomparable, like nothing you had ever encountered. This new, unfamiliar feeling washed through your body & there was only one word that could come close to describing it. Home. Not Bucky’s apartment where you had moved into a while ago. This strange yet somehow well-known place triggered emotions in you that you thought did not exist. You wondered if Bucky reacted in a similar way as you walked down the pier, hands intertwined, gazing out to the endless blue horizon. Where one hue kissed the other in an almost seamless way. Connecting yet separating sea from sky. A stunning sight that caught your plenary attention. You imagined yourself spending hours, simply watching the sun rise during the chill hours of the morning & set during the warm hours of the evening. The light not only coloring the sky in reds & purples but that same tone reflecting in the waves of the water which were caused by the wind.

“Hey, lovebirds! A little help here!” a familiar voice echoed in your ears & you found yourself turning around as you searched for the source of it.

“We’ll be right there, Sam.” you yelled over the distance so he could hear you clearly.

“He does have awful timing.” Bucky joked, wrapping an arm over your shoulders. You giggled & silently agreed with him though both of you were aware that you did not mind one bit.

Preparations were almost done, you simply assisted with the last finishing touches. They really went out of their way to create a homely aura for everyone to enjoy. Bucky & you occupied one of the many wooden tables, sitting next to Sam, Sarah & her kids. You guys had so much fun & could barely contain your laughter. Those people were not just friends. They were family. Blood related or not, the feeling they gave you counted at the end of the day.

The barbeque was delicious, as were the many options of desserts. One of them which you brought along. Bucky whined about a cake & who were you to deny him something you loved too? And by the fast pace it was gone, you assumed the others relished it just as much.

Food was long forgotten but the chatter kept the party alive. In the lifestyle you found yourself in, it was a rare sight to be surrounded by so much happiness & contentment. Usually, people radiated desperation & fear. Here, it was as if nothing bad existed. Only the smiles & sparkles in people’s eyes as they talked about something they were passionate about or the most random topic that came to mind. It did not matter. Acceptance was capitalized & it was a gift to experience it. With your boyfriend, with your best friend. With soon-to-be friends, you hoped.

“…so they aren’t here today ‘cause they’re currently movin’ out.” Sam pointed to the house that sat right next to his. Your eyes widened a little at this statement.

“It’s up for sale then?” you questioned, referring to the cottage that definitely needed some hours of dedicated work but appeared to be worth it underneath its surface.

“Yeah, it is. Still looking for a new owner.” Sam nodded. A smirk spread onto your face & you nudged Bucky with your elbow to gain his attention. With raised eyebrows, he turned his head so your eyes were locking.

“Okay. What’s going on in that head of yours?” Bucky chuckled as he noticed the enthusiastic look you wore. Sam observed your interaction but decided to stay silent for the time being.

“We could buy it, right?” you suggested, rambling so your words blurred together & it was hard to make out what you said.

“The house?” it took him a couple of seconds before he answered your question with another one. Simply because he was uncertain if you were joking or if you were serious.

“No, a trip to Disneyland. Of course the house.” you replied with a slight sarcastic tone.

“You wanna move here?” Bucky asked once again to ensure that he understood correctly.

“Don’t you? I mean, it’s perfect for us, Buck. The people here are lovely & we’ve got Sam here.” you pointed out, trying to list as many positive aspects as necessary to convince him.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Sam chimed in & you directed your attention to him. “Does that mean robot-boy will be my neighbor?” he pointed his finger at Bucky with fake disgust that had you laughing.

“That would annoy you, wouldn’t it?” Bucky inquired with a sly smile.

“Totally.” Sam countered, now completely ignoring that it was your idea in the first place. The two of them were bickering like children & it was a useless attempt to stop them.

“Perfect, we’ll buy it then.” your boyfriend’s statement had you shocked but equally excited.

“Really?” you could not help but ask.

“Really.” Bucky assured you & placed a short kiss on your lips.

“Why did I even say anything?” Sam shook his head, mumbling those words so nobody heard. Deep down, he had to admit that the could imagine it to be pleasant to have you two with him at all times. Though he would never say that out loud.

“We’re gonna move to Louisiana.” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around Bucky’s neck to hug him tightly. Your future could finally begin here. Something told you that it was the right decision. Sam only had to pull some strings & the deal was almost as good as yours.

A few hours ticked by, the sun had already started setting & Bucky suggested to watch the remaining minutes down by the dock. Your back rested against his chest, his arms securely wrapped around your waist as you sat in between Bucky’s legs. Savoring the last sunbeams that shone into your face & had you squint your eyes in order not to blind you. A comfortable silence settled around you. The sound of the sea the only discernible noise amongst the calm of the evening. But every quiet had to end eventually. And it was you who broke it, voicing a thought that had been playing in the back of your mind ever since you agreed on moving here.

“Hey, what about a dog?” your question caught him off guard & he barely had time to prepare a reply.

“Huh?” was all he could muster & you giggled at his perplexity.

“A dog. When we move here. Don’t you think this is a perfect place for a dog?” you turned in his arms so you could hold eye contact.

“We’ve already got Sam.” Bucky scoffed & you rolled your eyes annoyingly at him.

“I’m being serious, Buck.” & you truly were. Ever since you could remember, you promised yourself that you would adopt a dog if the chance was given. With a house this size, it would be a waste to not fulfill your dream. You watched Bucky sigh but the glint in his eyes showed you that he contemplated your thought.

“We’re not getting a Chihuahua.” he made clear before you got even crazier ideas.

“What’s wrong with a Chihuahua?” your dumbfounded expression had him laughing.

“They’re outta the question.” he stated & left no room to argue.

“Fine.” you breathed out with an exaggerated sigh. “A Corgi?”

“Why?” you did not understand why you had to reason with him but you had to think fast to provide a reasonable explanation.

“Because they’re cute.” maybe not the smartest of replies but if you worked your pleading expression then you should win.

“You say that about every single dog. That’s not a valuable point.” Bucky called you out & earned a pout from you.

“But it’s very much true.” a short pause allowed you to gather your thoughts once more. “Besides, they remind me of you.”

“Do I even wanna know?” Bucky breathed out & threw his head back to visualize how done he was with you in this moment. You, of course, were aware that it was only him teasing you.

“No, but that was, in fact, a very valuable point & speaks for getting a Corgi.” a proud smirk made its way onto your face.

“You’re lucky I love you.” his ocean blue eyes flickered between yours. You moved forward & pressed a tender kiss on his cheek. “But I’m the one choosing the name.” he decided.

“No way.” you shook your head frantically. “We’ll end up with a dog called Dog then.” you almost whined.

“You can’t stop me from giving it a nickname.” he reasoned with that famous smirk of his & you groaned because you knew he was right.

“I don’t like it.” you mumbled after a few moments.

“Alright, no dog then.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders & pretended that it did not matter anyway. But it did. And he really did like the idea of getting a dog.

“NO WAIT!” you were quick to raise your voice & stop him from turning down your plan. “Ugh, can’t we just…I don’t know, pick a cute name together?” you offered him your best puppy dog eyes because he had a hard time resisting you whenever you played that card.

“We could.” Bucky agreed but kept his response short. He waited for you to ascertain what he meant.

“But?” your voice went an octave higher at the end.

“But I’ll still call it Dog. It’s a great nickname.” Bucky praised himself.

“It’s foolish.” you commented & crossed your arms over your chest.

“Do we have a deal or not?” his head tilted to one side, waiting to watch your reaction.

“What do you think?” your eyebrows perked up. “Of course we do!”

Published (05/10/2021) by Cathy

✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨

Tags: @bibliophilewednesday, @msmarvelsmain, @weareironmanbitches,@zestyemby, @kattenjager1, @cheraboo330 (thanks for your support <3)

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Harada Chapter 5

This is my first post of the month, so I’ll start by asking you to please support me if you can through my ko-fi, and paypal or patreon which provides access to my hakuoki blog translations and early access to my postings. Also, please let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my Lookout List since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that I can share…. and if you are able to remove watermarks from a video, please contact me…

well... i mostly drove op.3 and souma-hen out of my head with some of the original hakumyu musicals. i had to re-rip all of my hakumyu cds since the files got lost cuz my passport stopped working... then i started to distract myself by listening to the Kazama-hen soundtrack and a bunch of BGM tracks from Saito-hen, Hijikata-hen and Reimeiroku, which resulted in way more music being stuck in my head. lol *insert pitiful laugh here*. maybe i’ll finally be able to motivate myself into finish my score for kazama-hen’s yaisa this time around (it’s hard to stay focused on a +10 min song that’s reaaaaallly not meant for the piano though i was able to match most of the notes to when they played when compared to the actual song starting from the 4th measure, which i consider to be insanely good considering how there are 333 freaking measures or roughly 46 pages in my damn score. still need to fix a number of sections though)... and i know ive done a ton of procrastinating on it.

anyway, enjoy~!

oh, and i have one non-hakuoki translation planned for this month (next week).

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Harada Chapter 5

Translation by KumoriYami

After a short walk down the corridor through headquarters, I stopped when I reached the room for the Tenth Division [reword later?].  

Yukimura: Speaking of which/Anyway, Nagakura-san did say that he was apologize to Harada-san for getting him wrongly accused of stealing sake.

I didn't know if Nagakura-san was already here......?

I stepped into the room.

What immediately came into view was the sight of Nagakura-san pressing both of his hands together to apologize.

Shinpachi:——That's how it is! Sano, I'm sorry! I didn't expect for for this to happen!/things to get to this point/develop to this stage!

Harada:......In other words, I was almost banned from going out because of something that you did? Shinpachi.

Shinpachi: We-Well...... if you look at the outcome, it should be fine...... right...... 

B-But, that’s it. I just put the sake in your room because I wanted to share some delicious sake with you——

It was just bad luck that things ended up that way... [i think?]

Harada: I get it, I get it. I know exactly what happened.

Harada:......But, for me to have been accused without any/for no reason, it's not to much to think that I'd lose my temper, right?

Harada-san cracked his fingers as he spoke.

He was smiling, but his eyes weren’t happy at all. 

Shipnachi: U-Uwaaah...!. calm down, Sano! Why are you hitting me!

Harada: Shut up! You should be thankful that I'm just hitting you!

It seemed that Harada-san was quite furious as he looked genuinely angry.

What should I do......!?

Stop Harada-san <-

Evacuate/Get away

Yukimura: Pl-Please calm down, Harada-san! You can't use violence/Violence is not allowed/Don't use violence!

I hurriedly grabbed/hugged Harada-san to try/and tried to stop him.

Seeing me appear so suddenly, Harada-san was startled, but shortly after, he regained his original scowling expression.

Harada: Don't stop me, Chizuru! That guy, Shinpachi, has earned a good beating!

Yukimura: But, but rather than saying that it was Nagakura-san's fault, wouldn't it be better to say that this was just a coincidence/this was an unfortunate misunderstanding......! 

Harada: You're someone who doesn’t try to offend anyone... .However, Shinpachi. In the end/first place, this incident, were it not for your love of sake/alcohol addiction, none of this would have happened!

Shinpachi: Guh......

Yukimura: But, but starting/engaging in privates fights is punishable by seppuku, so please, please calm down......!

I was almost shaken off, but I desperately continued holding onto Harada-san.

However Harada-san forced me aside and walked over to Nagakura-san, and then smiled.

Harada: Don't worry, Chizuru. This isn't a private fight. I have no intention to start a fight/fight with him.

Shinpachi: Th-That’s right! Although I was prepared to get beaten, won't/cant you forgive me/I was prepared to get beaten, but you’re actually prepared to forgive me...!? No, as expected of my best friend! The broadness of your mind is comparable to Hijikata-san [reword later. sounds archaic lol]!

Looking at the smiling Harada-san, Nagakura-san let out a sigh of relief.

Is that how it will work out/Will that be how this ends......?

The moment/Just as I let go.

I caught the sight of Harada-san's smile deepening as he clenched his fists behind his back.

Harada: Right, I'm not going to fight you——

Harada——But I'm going to punish you! Grit/Clench your teeth, Shinpachi!!!

Shinpachi: GUAHHH!?

Nagakura-san's depressed screams could clearly be heard even outside of headquarters......

Afterwards, Harada-san and Nagakura-san went to Hijikata-san's room......

Once the situation was explained in detail, the order for Harada-san’s house arrest was lifted.

......Instead/On the opposite end, Nagakura-san was severely punished......

Harada: Really, that bastard, Shinpachi....... he can’t/won't stop causing problems.

Yukimura: Ye-Yes. But I think that Harada-san also went too far....... However, it's good that the suspicions against you were cleared because of that, Harada-san.

Harada: Speaking of which, I forgot to thank you. Thanks, Chizuru.

Yukimura: Eh?

Harada: What you did. It's thanks to you that I was able to prove my innocence [tl word i have is more "to your credit/contribution"].

Yukimura: Th-That sort of thing...... what I did isn't such a big deal.

Harada: Haha, a bit of modesty/humility is good, but when a man thanks you, you need to accept it honestly, since it's a necessary condition of being a good woman/but it's a condition of being a good woman to honestly accept when a man gives thanks, alright?", alright [i think????]?

Seeing Harada-san smile, I couldn't help but also laugh/smile.

Harada: So/Anyway, if you want to go to the festival, just call me at any time/call me whenever. As thanks/As a gift, can I accompany you/keep you company then?

Yukimura: Yes, thank you.

Although there were many twists and turns......

I’m really glad that Harada-san's ban on going out was lifted.

The sigh I let out in relief escaped into the depths of the cool corridor.

-end of chapter-

[britishassistant]

The Villainous Paranoiac Just Wants An Uneventful Holiday (Part 2)

You need a break from your break at this rate.

You are exhausted.

You and Grim arrived back at the dorm with maybe ten minutes to spare before the other students came back from the parade and immediately set about working on completing your escape route as quickly as possible.

Only for the guy you’ve mentally dubbed “Scarabia Student A” to come to your door and tell the pair of you apologetically that because of Grim’s threats, Asim-senpai had decreed that neither of you would be allowed lunch and needed to remain locked in your room until defensive magic practice that afternoon.

On the plus side, your impromptu imprisonment let you and Grim work on the escape route undisturbed for the next hour. On the down side, it meant you both were starving after the exertion of the parade march and the digging.

The only reason you two didn’t collapse during defensive magic practice was because Viper-senpai snuck you both some bread and dried meats when he came to let you out. He also took the trouble to invite you two to a secret meeting on Asim-senpai’s behavior after dinner tonight.

You have to grudgingly admit, he is good at what he’s doing.

He has Asim-senpai do something cruel, then appears to the victims of said cruelty as a “savior”, doing what he can to soothe their pain “in spite of” his subordinate position to Asim-senpai, cultivating feelings of gratitude and empathy towards himself and resentment towards his puppet.

Even if you know what he’s doing, it’s difficult to resist that instinctual response.

Grim’s subvocal grumbling of “It doesn’t look like that white-haired jerk’s being controlled, fgnah.” is proof enough of that.

This way, once Viper-senpai drives Asim-senpai to overblot, no one will question him fighting against the dorm head he claims to be so loyal to, and his behavior before and during the overblot will make him appear to be the ideal replacement for the “mentally unstable” dorm head.

He’s definitely aiming for the dorm head position. The little performance this morning where he blatantly usurped Asim-senpai’s role of water-provider is proof enough of that.

Still, you muse while shouting out directions to Grim during magic training. Viper-senpai’s either very confident in his magic abilities or very ignorant about overblot to think that inducing it in Asim-senpai is in any way a good idea.

Especially if he’s under the delusion that his Unique Magic could somehow control an overblotted Asim-senpai.

It’d be better to just frame Asim-senpai for the actions he’s already committed under the influence, maybe show him shirking some dorm head duties if that was insufficent. You just don’t understand why Viper-senpai’s going through all this trouble and making a move now instead of closer to whenever elections for dorm heads are held, to make his win seem more legitimate.

Hopefully, you’ll be able to gain more information once you and Grim go along to this evening’s meeting with your plan in mind.

The after-dinner meeting starts pretty much how you expect it to.

Viper-senpai plays on the feelings of the other Scarabia students masterfully, painting himself as a concerned friend who only wants what’s best for his dorm head, but is at a loss due to Asim-senpai’s refusal to listen to reason. You and Grim give the input he clearly wants when he subtly cues you to.

However, when Grim tells him to just challenge Kalim for the position, Viper-san crosses his arms and coldly states, “No. There’s no way I can do that.”

Wait.

What?

“Gak! Y-you were the one who asked for advice, yanno...” Grim mutters, clearly as off-kilter as you feel.

From there Viper-senpai subtly divulges the sordid details of his slavery to the Asim family due to the circumstances of his birth, and how that conglomorate has been interfering on Asim-senpai’s behalf and at Viper-senpai’s expense for the entirety of their time at Night Raven College.

And all the while you’re sitting here, head feeling like it’s spinning a million miles a minute, trying to stop yourself from over-empathizing with the vice dorm head and figure out what this all means.

You don’t doubt for a single second that what he’s saying about the Asim and Viper families is true. However, his actions thus far have shown he is gunning for the dorm head position, even using this show of vulnerability to manipulate the other students into following him.

But why put himself and his family in such jeopardy for a simple school title?

“Asim-senpai doesn’t embody ‘the spirit of Scarabia?’ What does that mean?” You ask, latching onto a thread of the conversation in hopes of getting some clarity.

“There are different requirements for the position of dorm head in each of the seven dorms that a candidate must meet, which are taken from the virtues of the Great Seven.” Viper-senpai explains. “Duels are just an easy way to determine if the current dorm head meets that criteria or not. For example, in Pomefiore, the dorm head must have the greatest expertise in poisons, like the Beautiful Queen before them.”

One of the other students says something about Viper-senpai’s prudence and tactical thinking is much more like the Sorcerer of the Sands than Asim-senpai, but it sounds distant and far away to your ears.

Your brain is too busy buzzing over this new piece of information.

The dorm heads are supposed to be those who best embody the Great Seven.

The same Great Seven who’ve been appearing in your dreams practically every night before the overblots in their corresponding dorms happen.

What if— what if the reason that all the overblots this far have been dorm heads isn’t because the position of dorm head itself and the stresses it causes?

What if it’s because the criteria for the position of dorm head corresponds to the member of the Great Seven that dorm represents, which might contribute to who goes over the edge somehow?

After all, if you’re going by magic use and stress alone, then Buchie-senpai would’ve been the most likely candidate for overblot during the Magift incident. He did Laugh With Me an entire horde of civilians to stampede the coliseum after all.

But it was Leona-senpai, who best embodied the positive and negative qualities of the King of the Savannah, who ultimately overblotted. You even said it to him yourself when you asked him for help in investigating potential overblots outside of Night Raven College before the break. You thought at the time that his overblot was just because of the level of mental stress he was under, but if his status as a personification played a major role somehow...

But, then that means—

That means Asim-senpai isn’t automatically guaranteed to overblot because he’s a dorm head.

But Viper-senpai’s plan just plays off the common denominator of past overblots to make him seem in enough danger of doing so that the authorities are forced to recognize the signs and remove him from the position that’s “stressing” him so much.

Even the Asim family can’t object if the school is acting in the interests of their son’s mental health. They likely as not would decide to remove him from the “toxic environment” of Night Raven College altogether, either by transferring him to Royal Sword Academy or by paying for Asim-senpai to graduate early.

Though wouldn’t that mean Viper-senpai, as Asim-senpai’s servant, would be forced to leave with him? Or does he think that he’ll be able to convince the Asims to let him stay somehow?

In any case, that’s why you and Grim are still trapped here—because Viper-senpai’s under the impression that you both have some direct line to that useless birdbrain of a headmaster and can report the situation back to him.

But the amount of magic needed to keep up the charade until the headmaster actually notices, combined with the fact that everyone is saying that Viper-senpai is the rightful embodiment of the Sorcerer of the Sands means—

“Viper-senpai, you’ve got to run!”

You seize onto him, desperation evident in your face.

Viper-senpai retreats a step or two, blinking in alarm as you follow him to not lose your grip on his hand or his clothes. “Prefect, what—?”

“You said it yourself!” You can barely keep your voice from edging into hysteria. “You’re closest to Asim-senpai, and the way things are going, he’s going to overblot just like Rosehearts-senpai did. A-and overblots are illogical, they’re practically insane with hatred! They go after the people closest to them— you remember how badly Buchie-senpai was hurt when Leona-senpai overblotted, right?!”

Viper-senpai’s eyes are fixed on you as you shake your head, reliving those awful memories. “The only reason Trey-senpai didn’t die when Rosehearts-senpai overblotted was because Ace and Deuce got in his way and pissed him off more. If you stay in Scarabia...Viper-senpai, you’re in more danger than anyone else here! You need to get out of here, please, just run!!”

Please, you mentally beg as you stare at him. Please take the out I’m giving you. Call it off here, get out, get away, change your name, do whatever you have to to escape. Just, please, please don’t overblot on me too.

Viper-senpai’s brow furrows.

He slowly shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Prefect. Even if I wanted to, I’m bound to Kalim. I must follow him to the end.”

“But you could die.” You make no effort to hide your dismay, hands clenching around what they hold. “I-I can’t...pl-please don’t make me...”

His free hand begins moving towards your uninjured cheek—

CRASH!!

The sudden commotion makes the two of you leap apart, staring wildly at the source of the noise.

Grim sits dazed in the center of several overturned metal dishes and a golden lion-shaped tureen.

“Ow, ow, ow, that huuuurt!” He complains loudly, rubbing his little head. “What the heck, why’s this dumb thing empty if it smells good?! Aah, I’m so hun—”

“SSSHH!!” Practically everyone in the room hushes.

“Could you be any louder?!” Scarabia Student B hisses, looking around.

“Do you wanna just begin screaming for the Dorm Head, you stupid cat?!!” Scarabia Student A whispers furiously. “Seriously, if he wakes up and sees us here like this, we’re dead tomorrow, don’t you get that?!”

“Sheesh, I’m sorry.” Grim harrumphs, wandering back to his cushion. “It was just an accident, what’s gotten you all so worked up, fgnah?”

“Oh gee, I wonder why.” A third student somewhere near the back mutters.

“They were having a moment.” You think you hear a fourth student hiss, but you’re pretty sure you’ve misheard that one.

Viper-senpai clears his throat and goes to peer out into the hall. “...There’s no sign of movement. I think we’re safe, for the moment.”

You fiddle with your tie and collar, trying to straighten them as much as you can. “I-I apologize for my outburst. My behavior was inappropriate and not conducive to the matter at hand.”

Viper-senpai huffs a little laugh. “Don’t be. You’re only looking out for others’ wellbeing, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. You know better than anyone how dangerous these kinds of things are, after all. You’ve survived three of them.”

“Four.” Grim corrects from his cushion, tail flicking back and forth. “There was that creepy one in the Dwarf Mines that broke Yuu’s ribs at the start of the year, right Yuu?”

Your tie feels a little tight as you finish adjusting it, fidgeting under everyone’s scrutiny. “...yes. It’s a long story.”

“Will the dorm-head really overblot though?” The kid you’ve mentally dubbed “Scarabia Student B” pipes up. “I just can’t see it...”

“Well, he has exhibited a lot of the symptoms shown by other dorm heads before their overblots.” You say carefully. “An obsession with achieving a certain goal is something Rosehearts-senpai, Leona-senpai, and Ashengrotto-senpai all had in common, and Asim-senpai’s desire to improve Scarabia does fit this pattern.”

“Is there nothing that can be done for him Prefect?” Viper-senpai urges, gripping your shoulders. “Kalim may be unreliable at times, but I grew up with him. He calls me his friend. Are you saying there’s no way we can stop him from overblotting?”

You shrug gently, trying not to dislodge him. You don’t want his hackles raised now. “I’ve yet to see an overblot prevented, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Keeping him from using too much magic would be a big plus, because the blot would have less of a chance to build up. Other than that, it might be best to prepare for the worst? Just in case.”

“Maybe call the family doctor on the sly!” Grim chips in. “See if he can come here to take Kalim home rather than the other way round!”

Viper-senpai nods slowly, like someone accepting news of an imminent loss. “I’ll certainly take your advice into consideration. However, I will not leave. I can’t abandon the dorm—can’t abandon Kalim— during this crisis. I won’t run and leave everyone to face the danger alone.”

“Vice dorm head!” One of the younger students chokes out.

It feels like something hard and unforgiving is lodged against your breastbone.

“I-I won’t let it.” You stammer, feeling yourself flush a deep red in embarrassment at your verbal blunder. “I won’t let it come to that, Viper-senpai. I’ll stop this overblot. No matter what it takes. I swear to you, on my life, I’ll stop it!”

Viper-senpai gives you a not unkind chuckle, meeting your gaze head-on. “Well then, Prefect. I’ll be in your care.”

You can’t hold it for more than a few moments, your breath hitching as you look away. It feels like there’s so much blood in your cheeks that the one Asim-senpai slapped earlier is beginning to hurt again.

“We-we’ll help out too, Jamil!” Scarabia Student A claims, standing up as well.

“Y-yeah! You’re much more fit to be dorm head than Kalim-senpai!” Two more students in the back push towards the front.

“Our dorm head should be someone who embodies the virtues of the Sorcerer of the Sands, not someone who paid their way in and is overblotting because they can’t take the heat.” A tall third year proclaims.

“Yeah!”

“You said it!”

“We’re all equal here!”

“You guys...” Viper-senpai looks genuinely touched, staring out at his sea of carefully handled supporters.

“What are you all doing here at this time of night?”

Asim-senpai stands in the doorway, glaring angrily at all of you.

You can’t quite help the two shaky steps back you take.

“Geh, he found us!” Grim mutters, hiding behind your leg.

“Ka-Kalim.” Viper-senpai says, hands held up placatingly. “We were just—”

“It seems I went to easy on you today, if you all are still overflowing with energy this late at night.” Asim-senpai says coldly. “You should go outside to the courtyard to practice magic until you hit your limits.”

A chill goes down your spine. “Asim-senpai, that’s really not a good idea, we were just—”

“You. Shut up.” The dorm head stalks towards you. “Do you think you can presume to order me around? Was one meal enough to make you think that lying tongue of yours could do whatever it wanted? Maybe we should switch to practice using offensive magic this time—you’d make a fine moving target.”

It’s suddenly much harder to breathe.

“D-dorm head!”

“Why you—!” Grim snarls.

“Kalim.” Viper-senpai steps in front of you, blocking you from Asim-senpai’s view. “The Prefect was only referring to your idea of starting the march two hours earlier tomorrow. Everyone needed to be notified of that, so we’ll be turning in now.”

“T-two hours?!” Scarabia Student B gasps, only to be quickly hushed by everyone around him.

“...” Asim-senpai seems to contemplate this for a moment, before closing his eyes. “Very well. But no one will be eating until dinner tomorrow for this failure to listen to directions the first time, understood?”

Viper-senpai opens his mouth to protest again, but then slumps. “...Yes, Kalim.”

Asim-senpai waves a hand. “Well? What are you all waiting for? You’re dismissed.”

The students of the dorm begin to slowly, sullenly file out into the hallway, many of them grumbling and muttering under their breath.

You take the opportunity to escape, scooping up Grim and clapping a cautious hand over your friend’s big mouth so he can’t say anything else as you edge past Asim-senpai.

“Thank you.” You mouth at Viper-senpai as you speed walk out of the room.

He shoots you a small smile in response.

The journey back to your shared room is quick and uneventful, though you feel constantly on edge the entire way there.

You aren’t able to relax until you’ve nodded a “goodnight” to Scarabia students A and B and shut the door firmly behind you, sagging against it.

You really should learn their names at some point.

“Well?” Grim asks after you hear the lock on your door click into place and the guards wander off for their patrol. “Did you get it?!”

The hard and unforgiving feeling against your breastbone hasn’t faded at all.

You turn your back and unbutton your shirt, removing the source of said feeling from its hiding place.

“Your timing with knocking that stuff over was perfect.” You turn back around and flash Viper-senpai’s magic pen. “But we need to get our escape route finished quick, he could notice it’s gone missing any second now.”

You’re sort of amazed that he hasn’t already. You kept expecting to hear someone begin chasing after you and Grim as you left, angrily screaming about the theft. If he hadn’t stepped in for you when you protested magic practice...

Thank Ace and Buchie-senpai that you somehow got away with this.

“Yes!! That’s my minion for ya!!” Grim cackles softly, grin sharp and savage as he leaps back into the hole in the floor. “I still wish I coulda bonked him over the head, but imagine his face once the idiot’s realized he’s been duped!”

“Just so long as that experience stays imaginary.” You mutter, bringing the pen over to the locked window and looking at it under the moonlight that seeps in through the slats.

There’s blot staining over half of the crimson gem.

You wince just looking at it. How much magic has Viper-senpai been using for this much for accumulate?

Still, he’s probably not so stupid that he’ll risk casting magic without it, so ar least he’ll be on magic-using probation for the duration of time that you have it.

All you have to do is keep it away from him until the blot’s dissipated and you can report his plan and living situation to Crowley and other teachers. The other teachers will force the dumb bird to actually do something about Viper-senpai’s slavery. He won’t have a reason to overblot anymore. Everyone wins.

Though unfortunately, you can’t do much about stress-induced blotting, and you have no idea if he can still overblot while separated from his magic pen. Maybe you should investigate whether or not you could just...smash it and get him a new, non-blotted magic pen as a replacement? They do those, right?

“It’s done!” Grim hisses, prompting you to stash the magic pen away again and button up your shirt. “It’ll be a kinda tight squeeze though.”

You purse your lips at the small hole. “...It’ll have to do. We don’t have any time to waste, c’mon.”

To say it’s cramped would be an understatement. You’re more covered in scrapes and dust than you’ve ever been by the time you drop onto the ground of the floor below, panting and wheezing for breath. Your bruised cheek is throbbing again.

“Now I know what it feels like when spaghetti gets made at least.” You whisper.

Grim nods. “You can say that again. Now, we’re in between guard patrols, but we’ve still gotta be extra quiet so they don’t hea—”

GRRRRRARGGHH

You stare at your monster cat’s stomach as its complaining rumble dies away.

“Hey! What’s that noise?!” Comes the patrolling student’s cry.

You close your eyes. “Grim.”

“What?!” He whispers back, ears flicking in embarrassment. “I didn’t get any lunch! I can’t help being super hungry!!”

“Grim.”

“Oi! The Prefect and the cat have broken out again!” A Scarabia guard yells as he rounds the corner. “But how?! I could’ve sworn Achmed said he locked their door!”

“Ah!!” His compatriot cries, pointing up at the hole in the ceiling. “Look!! They’ve totally destroyed the floor of their room! Is that how you pay us back for our hospitality?!”

“How dare you?!” The first guard gasps. “That stuff’s really expensive to fix! Everyone, get over here! We’ve got another escape attempt!!”

“Fgnah! Yuu, let’s go, before their buddies get here!” Grim yelps, taking off down the hallway with you hot on his heels.

You hear the door to your prison slam open behind you, accompanied by Viper-senpai’s infuriated roar of “PREFECT!!”

You bundle Grim under one arm and run faster.

You seriously need a break from your break at this rate.

Hopefully you’ll get one, if you can figure out how to make it out of this dorm alive.