#solid gold au

[solid-gold-au]

Wingdings

[nostalgia-tblr]

u know, in terms of Frigga Discourse:

There is clearly no throne for a queen (or any other consort) there, nor is there space for one. She'd have to sit off to one side, in a much smaller chair that's less... well, that's just less generally, and while I will ignore that (and have!) for fic purposes I think it's interesting anyway.

(It might be Historically Accurate, though possibly by accident? Cos English consort queens weren't usually crowned in the Viking era, as far as I know. Queens are just the king's wife back then, why would you give his wife a throne of her own that's just madness right guys?)

So if - as seems reasonable from what we know - Frigga's been acting as regent while Odin's napping, she gets to sit on The One Chair to do that? (Though having said that this film hasn't heard of regents so maybe she's just King Frigga on those occasions. Why not!)

[star-cant-think]

bullshit from an au that i haven’t touched since like nearly a year ago. not super proud of the art but i feel the need to actually post something.

[rosesradio]

update on the fic:

the time for me is half past eleven, and i have finished the fic with a final word count of 22,310 words.

however, it's very late and i need a fresh set of eyes for editing (it's not a quick grammer scan, this thing needs revisions i'm so serious lmao). so i'm going to keep it in the drafts for right now and try to post it tomorrow.

sorry to anyone who wanted to read it, & i'm happy you do, but trust me--i want to post it when it's at what i consider a good quality for my readers. gn you guys <3

[jjungkookislife]

Home for the Holidays Pt. 2 (M)

pairing: jungkook x f. reader

genre: fake dating au, f2l, christmas au, smut [18+] Put your age in your bio so you don’t get blocked please 💜 this is an 18+ blog

summary: Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad.

You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.

wc: 14.3k

warnings: pet names (babe, baby, sweetheart, honey, love, darling, good girl, doll), food/food mention, mention of conning JK's grandmother, mention of a blowup doll, making out, marking (scratching, biting, hickeys), jungkook has a motorcycle but his grandmother forbids him from using it while she's there, mention of jungkook's grandfather's death, one-bed trope, mention of slot machines, mention of a breeding kink, reader is on the pill, mention of being self-conscious (reader), mention of drowning in melting snow due to embarrassment, hair pulling, jungkook is a consent king (and it's hot af, okay?), fingering (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), oral sex (f. giving), unprotected sex, spanking, multiple orgasms, creampie

a/n: a HUGE thank you to @btsgotjams27 for allowing me to scream about this JK in her inbox for weeks! and for helping me go over the ending! thank you, thank you, thank you!

read part one here

date: January 12, 2024

The moment you set foot in Jungkook’s family home, it was like stepping foot in a department store the day after Thanksgiving. 

Holiday decor sits on every inch of the living room wall—there are snowflakes, snowmen, Santas, and jolly words on every bit you see.

A giant Christmas tree takes up a large portion of the living room in a corner far from the fireplace. Large red bows hung from the branches, and a gold star sat on the top. A candle on the coffee table burns, filling the home with its vanilla cookie scent. 

The dining room had an elegant arrangement of candles and ribbons. A glass jar of red and gold ornaments sat in the middle as a centerpiece. 

“Jungkook!” Came an elated greeting from the kitchen. An older woman came rushing toward him, her hands cupping his cheeks as she hugged him tightly. 

Jungkook grunted when he was pulled to her height, swaying side to side as she hugged him. 

“Never leave me,” she nearly sobbed dramatically. You bit back a laugh. 

“Mom,” Jungkook wheezed. “You’re scaring my girlfriend. She doesn’t know you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking,” his mom laughs as she squeezes him one last time before releasing him. 

“Mom!”

Jungkook’s mom ignored him as she stepped toward you. 

“Hello,” you wave meekly. You introduce yourself, and she smiles. 

“I’m Aera,” Jungkook’s mom introduces herself as she pulls you into a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you! Jungkook said nothing but good things about you. I swear he’s so in love!”

“Mom!” Jungkook hissed as he ran his hand over his face. 

You giggle, linking arms with Aera. “Is that so?”

Jungkook watches as the two of you head toward the kitchen, arm in arm, while he rolls the suitcases further into the house after shutting the front door. 

“Oh, Jungkook,” his mom says as she has you sit at the table. “You’re in Seojun’s old room, and this sweetheart is in yours.”

Jungkook nods as he locks eyes with you, silently asking if you’ll be okay for a few minutes while he takes the luggage upstairs. 

“Here,” Aera hands you a small dessert. “Seojun made these just for you. You’ll meet him tomorrow along with his fiancée, Saraí.” 

“Ooh, chocolate,” you grin as you take the chocolate and take a bite. You moan from how good it tastes, melting right on your tongue. 

Aera claps her hands, turning on her heel as she grabs a few more desserts for you to try. 

By the time Jungkook joins you, you’re on your third dessert. 

“Mom,” he sighs. “Please don’t force-feed my girlfriend. She just got here.”

Aera frowns at her son. “Fine. You open up.”

Jungkook dodges a brownie bite and sits beside you. His mom heads back to the kitchen to grab drinks as the front door opens and shuts. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook apologizes. “I told her to wait at least thirty minutes before she stuffed you full of chocolate and desserts.”

“Hello,” a voice calls. You smile, though nerves still eat at you when you realize Jungkook’s father has arrived home. 

“Dad!” Jungkook rises from his seat to hug his dad tightly. Jungkook looks just like him, though a little taller and broader. 

You rise from your seat, wiping your hands on your pants in a poor attempt to clean them. 

You introduce yourself to Jungkook’s dad, shaking his hand. 

“Nice to meet you, honey. I’m Dae.”

“We’re gonna go get settled in,” Jungkook says as he takes your hand. “We’ll be down for dinner.”

“When am I seeing Jimin, Joon, Tae, Jin, and Yoongi?” Aera asks her son. “It’s bad enough that Hoseok won’t join us this year.”

“He had plans, Mom,” Jungkook explained.

“Love, the kids just got home to their parents. Let them take their shoes off before you host a reunion,” Dae chuckles. Aera nods, going for her house phone to ring up Jimin’s mom across the street to chat about their boys. 

Jungkook uses the distraction to lead you toward the stairs. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook groans as he plops down on the desk chair of his old bedroom. “I thought I had a minute or something before she started feeding you.”

“It’s okay,” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Your mom is just excited.”

“I’ll say,” Jungkook grumbles as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Thanks for doing this.”

“No problem! Besides, those brownie bites are delicious!”

Jungkook chuckles. “There’s plenty more downstairs. Lemme show you around.”

Jungkook shows you where the bathroom is. His room is across the hall from yours, while his parents' room is further down the hallway. There’s another stairway upstairs that leads to the entertainment/game room. Downstairs is an office, a guest bathroom, and a laundry room. 

The backyard is through the back door in the kitchen, and the door near the living room leads to the garage. It’s all pretty simple to memorize. You’ll mostly be on the second floor unless you have to use the kitchen or living room. 

By the time you’re back in the kitchen, Jimin’s sitting at one of the chairs with a plate full of brownies and a glass of milk. He gives you a chocolaty smile as Mrs. Jeon sets a plate of cookies beside him. 

“Got enough to share, Jimin?” Jungkook asks as he pulls a chair out for you before he sits beside you. 

“No,” Jimin swallows his bite and downs half a glass of milk. 

“Jimin,” Aera laughs, and Jimin reluctantly pushes the plate of cookies toward you and Jungkook. 

“So,” Dae smiles at you. “How did you and Jungkook meet?”

“School.”

“Jimin.” You say, cringing at Jungkook’s answer being different from yours. 

His parents look confused for a moment before Jimin speaks up.

“I met her in one of my classes, and we became friends. Then Jungkook stole her from me,” Jimin jokes. 

Jungkook turns red. “I didn’t steal her! You said you were just friends!”

You laugh with his parents. The two men bicker back and forth like children. 

“I always had a crush on Jungkook. The moment I saw him, I knew he was special,” you admit. Jungkook pauses his fake fight to look at you; his eyes are soft, and something sparkles deep within. 

Even Jimin stares silently. He knew you had a crush on Kook the moment you laid eyes on him, but there was no way you were this great of an actress. After all, he had been the one to go with you to audition for Cinderella, and you tanked. Sorry to say so.

“Oh, isn’t that sweet?! True love!” Aera sings as she clasps her hands. 

“Mom!” Jungkook protests, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. Perhaps he should have prepared you for his over-enthusiastic parents. 

“I hear wedding bells!” Aera continues until Dae grabs her and leads her out of the room. 

“Come on, let’s go get their pajamas.”

The three of you wait until you hear their footsteps disappear up the stairs. 

Jimin exhales dramatically. “You couldn’t even get the first lie correct?”

“We tried!” Jungkook hisses in response.

“Yeah,” you nod vehemently. “We got it right anyhow. We just fumbled a bit. No biggie.”

“The group chat isn’t gonna like this,” Jimin sighs. “Are you sure you can pull this off without us here?”

“It was just a little mishap,” Jungkook waved his hand. “We’ve got this.”

Jimin looks unsure but says nothing else as he gulps his milk down and rises from his seat. 

“Okay, I better get back to my family. I only snuck out for treats.”

You laugh as you hug him after he’s set his glass in the dishwasher. 

“Come around whenever,” Jimin instructs, kissing your forehead before waving to Jungkook. 

“What’s up next?” You ask your boyfriend. 

“Probably Christmas pajamas and a movie, then dinner and bedtime,” Jungkook replies as his parents' footsteps come down the stairs.

“Here they come.”

The evening flies by after you receive your pajamas. You thank the Jeons profusely as you put them on. 

The couple has gone to bed, leaving you and Jungkook to finish the last two minutes of the movie. 

Jungkook begins to clean up as soon as the credits roll before the two of you head up the stairs. 

Hushed voices greet you as you reach the landing. 

“I don’t know, Dae. Something seems fishy,” Aera said softly. 

“You’re overthinking this, love. Maybe they’re just respectful or shy.” Dae countered. 

“Well, Saraí and Seojun were always kissing and hugging. It just seems a little off.” Aera states. 

Jungkook looks at you, worry evident on his face.

“Maybe they’re not as comfortable with PDA. That’s fine by me,” Dae chuckles as he tells his wife to go to bed. 

Aera does so reluctantly.

Jungkook takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom you are occupying for your stay. He shuts the door as quietly as possible before he sits on the bed and pats the spot beside him. 

Once you’re on the bed sitting beside him, he wrings his hands in his lap. 

“I suppose we need to be more hands-on,” he states nervously.

“How about we wake up early tomorrow and watch a movie in the living room? We can cuddle and kiss a little when we hear them get up,” you suggest. 

Jungkook nods in agreement. 

“Do you need anything before I go?”

You walk Jungkook to the bedroom door. You bite your bottom lip, suddenly feeling shy. He is your fake boyfriend, though.

“A goodnight kiss?”

Jungkook’s cheeks warm at your words, but he gently grips your chin with his fingers before he presses his lips to yours. Your hands grip his shirt, holding him close as the kiss deepens and your lips muffle his moans. 

“Good night,” Jungkook whispers with one last kiss to your lips. 

“Good night,” you whisper as you watch him go. Your heart flutters as you shut the door and press your back against it. You squeal in delight and faintly hear Jungkook chuckle as he heads to his room. 

You ignore the heat that rises to your cheeks before scrambling to get into bed. 

The next morning, Jungkook shakes you awake gently. “Come on, darling.”

“Mmh,” you whine, swatting at him in your sleep. 

Jungkook dodges the next swipe, capturing your hand and kissing your palm. 

“Baby,” he whispers as he shakes you again. You curse, peering open one eye and then the other. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you grumble as you sit up. Jungkook grins smugly. “Or I’d bop you on that cute nose of yours.”

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Come on, babe. My parents will be up soon.”

“I’m sleepy,” you huff but get out of bed and follow Jungkook downstairs. He’s already got a movie playing in the background and two mugs of hot chocolate sitting on the coffee table. 

You try not to squeal in excitement when you see he’s poured yours into a snowman mug. 

By the time Jungkook’s parents make their way downstairs, the both of you are cuddling on the couch. Jungkook’s got your head on his shoulder, feeding you pretzels and holding your hand. 

Aera and Dae exchange a look but say nothing other than their morning greetings as they get ready for work. 

Dae is out in ten minutes, promising to be home early, while Aera stops by the living room to kiss each of you on the top of your head on her way out. 

“Seojun and Saraí will be here for dinner,” she calls as she grabs her keys and heads out the door. 

You spend the day with Jungkook watching movies and playing video games upstairs. Jimin and Joon pop in for a quick visit, but their parents call them home for lunch and they leave you alone with Jungkook again. 

“I think we’re doing pretty well,” you muse as you hold Jungkook’s hand while he waits for the game to load on the TV screen. 

He chuckles. “Seojun might mess it up.”

You giggle, shaking your head. 

“I think we’ve got this,” you state as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, and the mole beneath his lip. Jungkook sighs happily, dropping the controller on the carpet before he cups your face. 

Fake or not, he genuinely enjoyed kissing you. He wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to do so now. 

You moan when he pushes you back onto the couch, your legs on either side of his hips. His lips feel soft against yours as your hands slide under his shirt. 

“Kook,” you moan softly as you move your head to allow him more room, his lips burning in their wake as he trails kisses down to the collar of your shirt. 

Your fingers weave through his long black hair, tugging when his lips nip at your skin. He moans your name softly, groaning when you beg him for more. 

His hand grips your hip, squeezing as his hips rock against you. A curse escapes you as you melt beneath his broad shoulders, your nails dragging down his back. 

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, his lips finding yours as his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips as the kiss deepens. You whine as you feel him press against you, your hands greedy as you pull him impossibly close. 

“Shit!” A voice startles you.

You pull away from Jungkook, face warm as Jungkook gets off you. 

“Sorry, we should have knocked.” A woman apologizes. She’s shorter than Jungkook and the man beside her. Her hair is curly and black, falling in waves down her back. Her beautiful golden skin appears glowing and rivals the brightness of her smile. 

“We did knock,” the man says, looking at her. She jutted him in the ribs with her elbow before turning to Jungkook. 

“We’ll be downstairs,” she announced in a rush as she shoved the man out the door before shutting it. 

Jungkook groans, hiding his cherry-red face in his hands. “That was Seojun and Saraí.”

“Oh!” You exclaim with wide eyes. “Fuck.”

“Well,” Jungkook said, carding a hand through his hair. “At least Seojun will believe us now.”

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss the corner of his mouth. 

“To be continued?” You’re not sure where this bout of confidence has come from, but you know what you felt, and Jungkook wanted you just like you did him. 

“Tonight?” He asks in a sultry tone that makes you tighten around nothing. His dark-hooded gaze makes your pulse rise, and it takes everything in you not to push him onto the couch and continue where you left off. 

Jungkook holds your gaze, his tattooed hand resting on your lower back, a little too close to your behind. You bite your bottom lip, and his eyes watch you carefully as you slowly take a step back. Fire builds between you, nearly suffocating you, and you’d gladly let it for another taste of his lips. 

“Tonight,” you whisper as you head for the door. You swallow thickly as you eye him up and down, a hunger pooling deep inside you. 

Jungkook presses his thumb to his bottom lip as he devours you with his gaze, knowing one more lingering look will be all it takes to have you screaming his name as loud as your lungs allow. 

Ten minutes later, Jungkook and you join Seojun and Saraí in the living room. Jungkook introduced you to the couple as he sat beside you on the loveseat.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Sarai exclaims. “Seojun thought you were imaginary.”

“Babe,” Seojun protests. 

“¿Que no?” Sarai asks him with a raised brow. “Didn’t you say Kook probably had a blowup doll?”

 Jungkook and Seojun burn brighter than Rudolph’s nose as they sink into the couches. You laugh along with Sarai at the men’s expense. 

“I like you,” you said with a bright smile. “We’re gonna get along just fine.”

Sarai smiled, “We have to stick together.”

“Saraí,” Seojun whines. “We just got here. You can’t recruit my little brother’s girlfriend against me already.”

“Why not?” Saraí asks with a mischievous grin. 

Seojun groans as he shakes his head, but his smile never dims as he looks at his fiancée. You cuddle up to Jungkook, and his arm drapes around you before he kisses the top of your head, almost second nature. 

-

A few hours later, Saraí and you share the couch upstairs while the Jeon brothers fight over the working controller. 

Saraí follows you on all your socials as she lies beside you. The both of you laugh as you show each other funny TikToks. Despite only knowing her a short amount of time, you’re glad she’s easygoing and loves to talk. It takes the pressure off you having to recall any information from Joon’s PowerPoint and flashcards, though the information is ready to be pulled at any moment should you need it.

“So then he takes me to the very top of the building,” Saraí gushes as she shows you a photo on her Instagram account. “You know, the ones with the glass panes you can stand on to overlook the city? Well, I was busy looking at the city while Seojun was turning green behind me! He’s terrified of heights, but he knew I wanted to go up there since forever, practically!”

“I almost threw up,” Seojun comments as he gives the controller to Jungkook, he’s no longer interested in fighting his younger sibling over the controller that doesn’t stick. 

Saraí laughs. “I turned around to tell him to join me. The view was incredible!”

You hang on her every word as she swipes to another photo. 

“And that’s when I noticed the mariachis and Seojun down on one knee. He even had my family there!” Saraí wipes a stray tear as she recounts her proposal and shows you more photos of the grand event. 

Seojun smiles at Saraí, hearts in his eyes. He turns to Jungkook with a raised brow. “It’ll be you two before you know it.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Jungkook coughs as he looks at you for help. His eyes have tripled in size from panic. 

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling like a bobblehead. “We’ve only been together for a bit.”

“Four months?” Seojun asks.

“Five!” You and Jungkook answer in unison, startling the happy couple. 

You clear your throat. “Almost six.”

“Nowhere near you guys time together,” Jungkook adds as he nervously tweaks the buttons on the controller. 

Saraí waves her hand. “You’ll hear wedding bells before you know it.”

“Yeah,” Seojun chuckles. “Ours.”

The two giggled before you and Jungkook exchanged nervous looks. 

How far would you take this?

Dinner passes without incident. Aera and Saraí are elbow-deep in wedding plans, scheduling lunch with Saraí’s mom before the evening ends. 

You excuse yourself when your friends show up, and the lot of you head upstairs with a plate of warm cookies accompanied by a tray filled with glasses of milk and mugs of hot chocolate.

Seokjin is on the lookout, watching the door as Joon gets comfortable beside Jimin and Yoongi. 

“How’s it going?” Taehyung asks as he takes Jungkook’s phone to upload a few more pictures to Instagram. 

“Yeah,” Joon says through a mouthful of cookies. “Jimin says you fucked up the first question Momma Jeon asked.”

“Jimin,” Jungkook hisses. 

“The first one?” Seokjin scoffs as he looks over his shoulder at you. “Babe, I would have done better.”

“I’m the one who needed to date someone!” Jungkook hisses louder. 

Seokjin shrugs. “I said what I said.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at his friends and calms down when you grip his arm. 

“His parents thought we weren’t all over each other like Saraí and Seojun. We have to kick it up a little for them,” you state, your lip caught between your teeth. 

“Damn,” Yoongi sighs. “If they see through it, your grandmother won’t fall for it, Kook.”

“Don’t give up now,” Jimin insists while holding a rough sketch. “We’ve worked so hard for this. I already started designing my room in Kook’s new place.”

“Give me that,” Jungkook rips the paper from Jimin’s hands and crumples it. 

“I have copies,” Jimin smirks. 

“Look,” Taehyung speaks up. “We’ve all done our part. We just gotta get through it.” 

Namjoon nods. “Tae’s right. We all did what we said we’d do, even Hobi. He’ll be in town before the new year, and we can’t tell him the plan tanked. We all worked too hard for this. Let’s see it out.”

“I’m in,” Seokjin shrugs, feigning nonchalance by looking at his nails.

“Same,” Yoongi and Jimin add with a firm nod. 

Joon and Tae look at the two of you.

Jungkook looks at you, and you nod. You were already knee-deep in it; might as well make it to the other side. 

“Alright, we’re in,” Jungkook states ruefully. 

“Don’t worry, one of us will try to be around when Grandmother Jeon arrives. It’ll be a piece of cake!” Jimin grins. 

It was not a piece of cake. 

And if it was, it was a shit cake.

Grandmother Jeon rolled up with enough suitcases to rival a traveling circus. 

“Mother,” Dae gasps as he greets her at the front door. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had!” Jungkook’s grandmother huffs as Dae and Jungkook help bring in the suitcases. 

Aera dashes to the kitchen for refreshments, and you hurry after her in a panic. 

“First, I misplaced my bingo winnings on the train. Then, they threatened to kick me off because Luna wouldn’t stop barking!” Grandmother Jeon looks at all her bags until Jungkook holds one away from him while he pinches his nose. 

“Oh, there she is! Kook be a dear and take her outside. Rinse her dog carrier for me. These old bones aren’t what they used to be,” she says as Dae helps her to the couch and then shuts the front door. 

“Mother,” Dae said as he sat beside her. “Why didn’t you call?”

“Oh, I didn’t want to be a bother!” She waves her hand about. Her glasses slip down her nose, and her hat is tilted. 

“You’re never a bother, Mom,” Dae states as he helps her out of her shoes and faux fur coat. 

“Good,” Grandmother Jeon states firmly. “Because Luna and I need a place to stay for the holidays.”

Jungkook freezes with Luna, a yapping black and white chihuahua in his arms. “What?”

Dae sends a glare at his son. “Of course, you can stay with us. What happened?”

“Dang cellphone made my reservations for next Christmas,” Grandmother Jeon huffed. “Dang things are called smartphones, more like dumb phones. Scheduled me for the wrong year!”

Dae exchanges a look with Jungkook, but neither says a word as you and Aera walk into the living room with coffee and cookies. 

“Oh, Aera! You look lovely! Keeping my boys in line?” Grandmother Jeon asks with a smile. 

“Always! We're so glad you’re staying with us,” Aera says genuinely, hugging the older woman. 

“Ooh, you know me. I gotta spread a little holiday cheer everywhere I go,” Grandmother Jeon jokes before she spots you. 

“And who is this marvelous woman hiding behind you, Aera?” 

Jungkook opens the back door, puts Luna out, and rushes to your side before you can blink. 

“Grandmother Jeon, this is my girlfriend,” Jungkook tells her your name, and her eyes light up like the fairy lights on the Christmas tree. 

“I’m Grandmother Jeon or Minji, whichever you prefer, dear. Let me look at you,” she coos as she takes your hands and looks you up and down. 

“You’re beautiful,” Minji grins widely. 

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. 

“And you know how to take a compliment. I like that! Confidence and a tough exterior are what you need to wrangle in these boys. They’ll give you more heart attacks than you can handle. Troublesome they are,” Minji shakes her head. 

“Mom!”

“Grandmother!”

“What?” Minji raises a brow, daring them to protest further. “Am I lying?”

“No,” Jungkook and his father shake their heads, avoiding eye contact. 

“Thought so,” Minji laughs. “Don’t worry, dear. Jungkook is the least troublesome of them all, though that motorcycle I saw on the driveway is enough to earn a lecture, Jeon Jungkook!”

“But-!”

“Jeon Dae, what did I tell you about my grandbabies riding those!” Minji sighs heavily as she lets you go. 

“Mother,” Dae starts as Minji rises from the couch. “He’s old enough to make his own decisions.”

Minji whirls on Jungkook, a sharp, well-manicured nail poking his broad chest. “You stick to driving while I’m here, sweetie. I don’t think my old heart could take it seeing you riding around town on that motorcycle.”

“I promise,” Jungkook raises his hand, and Minji grins, reaching to pinch his cheek. 

“Good boy,” she states before releasing him. “Now who’s gonna show this old bag of bones and her pup to her room?”  

“Mother, you’re only-” Dae is cut off by a glare so icy it could freeze Hell and all its inhabitants. 

“Get my dog, son. She gets cold without her winter wear,” Minji grumbles as she heads towards the stairs. “She’s your little sister, after all. You should treat her as such.”

“Mother,” Dae sighs heavily, but he knows it’s a losing battle. He opens the back door instead, and Luna walks into the home after wiping her feet on the mat. 

“Jungkook, sweetie, be a doll and get her wipes from the pink bag for me. I have to get her cleaned up before dinner,” Minji says as Dae hands her the little chihuahua. 

“She’s not going to expect Luna to have a seat at the table, is she?” You ask Jungkook’s mom as you watch Dae and Jungkook carry her bags up the stairs. 

Aera says your name with a whimsical smile. “Expect the unexpected.”

Jungkook knows you’re trying your best not to stare, but you fail miserably.

Dinner is in the dining room with the large dining table that seats twelve, but there are only eight of you tonight. 

Dae sits at the head of the table with his wife on the left and his mother on the right. Beside Aera, Jungkook has taken his spot while you sit beside him. However, you can’t help but look at Luna in her high chair across from him. 

Seojun sits across from you with Saraí on his right. She smiles politely as she tries to muffle a laugh in her napkin. She was as surprised as you the first time Minji rolled into town with her dog and the high chair. 

You’re sure Luna is eating out of a crystal bowl and drinking from a crystal goblet. The only thing that sparkles more than both is the ring sitting on Saraí’s finger.

“So, sweetheart,” Minji starts as she dabs at her mouth. “How did you meet our Kookie?”

“Mother,” Dae shoots an annoyed look her way that she waves off with a perfectly manicured hand. 

“I’m merely curious,” Minji smiles softly, her pearls draped over her bubblegum pink dress. There’s not a silver hair out of place, nor is her lipstick smudged from eating and enjoying a glass of wine with dinner. 

“We met through Jimin,” Jungkook answers for you, but Minji continues to stare at you, awaiting a response. 

“We met through Jimin at school. Jimin and I shared a class and introduced me to Jungkook and his friends. I had a crush on him since the first time I saw him,” you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks as Jungkook takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles before setting it on the table. 

“So, who broke first?” Seojun asks with interest, ignoring his “aunt” as she chews on her steak. 

“Jungkook,” you giggle as you recite the story Yoongi had concocted. “We went on a walk after dinner one night and he confessed. Asked me out for the next night, and we’ve been dating ever since.”

“We went to the beach for our first date,” Jungkook adds. “Shared a milkshake on the boardwalk.”

“My Kookie finally found someone!” Minji claps her hands, startling the dog beside her. 

“Do you have pictures?” Aera questions as she rises from the table. 

Luna finishes her meal, and Dae takes her outside while Jungkook and Seojun clear the table. You send Jungkook a wary look, but he smiles in reassurance, mouthing, “You’ve got this.”

“Let’s head to the living room for tea and hot chocolate,” Aera said as she dashed to the kitchen to grab drinks and desserts. 

Saraí goes to help her while you help Minji to the couch. 

“I don’t know how to snoop on the phone like Seojun loves to do,” Minji laughs as you take your phone out of your pocket. 

“Ah, there’s my boy,” Minji says as she adjusts her glasses to look at your Lock Screen. A photo of you and Jungkook in matching Christmas sweaters greets her. 

“He looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me before he passed. Love is a magical thing, dear. It can get you through almost anything,” Minji says, full of wonder as she stares off into the distance for a moment before she clears her throat. 

Your heart sinks in your chest. Jungkook hadn’t mentioned his grandfather before and seeing Minji now and going through with this plan was making you feel sick. 

“I hope we didn’t miss anything,” Saraí sings as she sets down a tray of hot drinks. She hands one to Minji before she takes one for herself. 

Aera and Dae join you, while Luna curls up under the Christmas tree on the tree skirt beside the presents. 

“I hope we did,” Jungkook utters, only to be elbowed by his older brother. 

“I saw a few photos on Instagram this week,” Seojun comments as he grabs a cookie. “You both look cute.”

Saraí helps Aera log into her account so she can see the photos on Instagram while you show Minji the pictures on your phone. 

“The two of you are adorable,” Minji coos as you show her another photo. Jungkook watches on from beside his father, the two sharing the couch closest to the fireplace. 

For a moment, Jungkook can pretend that it’s real. That you fit into his family perfectly, just like Saraí does. That they adore you just like he does and that you could possibly love him.

Thirty minutes later, Minji is yawning and calling for Luna. The two head upstairs slowly, yawning and wishing everyone a good night. 

“Oh, dear,” Aera says as she looks at you and Jungkook. “We gave Grandmother Jeon Seojun’s old room.”

You look at Jungkook with wide eyes. 

“You don’t mind sharing Jungkook’s old room, do you?” Aera asked as she and Saraí cleared up the drinks and cookies. “It’ll be just like at home.”

“Um… yeah,” you cough as you look at your feet. “Just like home.”

“Perfect,” Dae says as he helps clean up. “Why don’t the two of you unpack in Jungkook’s room, and we’ll see you in the morning?”

“Sure, Dad,” Jungkook takes your hand, saying goodnight to his family before leading you up the stairs. 

On the landing, you hear his grandmother and Luna snoring already, and you wonder how they could fall asleep so quickly. 

Jungkook leads you into the bedroom and shuts the door, pressing himself against it. 

You’re careful not to trip on his suitcase as you open yours to get your pajamas out. You’ve been following Hoseok’s strict clothing schedule and you’ve sent Hoseok photo confirmation every day so far.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook whispers as he walks toward you. “I never thought this would happen.”

“What do we do?” 

“I’ll sleep upstairs in the game room,” Jungkook answers. His back already hurts from imagining a night on the lumpy couch. 

“Your parents will know something’s up,” you hissed in response. 

“I’ll sleep on the floor, then,” Jungkook shrugs. “Problem solved.”

“But it’s your room. Your bed.”

“And I got you into this mess,” Jungkook frowns. “It’s only for a few nights, anyway. No biggie.”

You bite your lip but say nothing as you take your pajamas and step out of the bedroom to go to the bathroom. You change and brush your teeth before going to the room once again.  

Jungkook goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and do his skincare routine before returning to the room. 

He grabs extra blankets from the closet and a few pillows before he lies down on the floor.  

The two of you stare at the ceiling in silence. 

“Well, this is awkward,” Jungkook chuckles.

You throw a stuffed animal at him. 

“Jungkook!”

“What? You were thinking about it!”

“You didn’t have to say it,” you grumble as you roll on your side to stare at him. You pull the covers over your shoulders, shivering in your oversized tee and pajama shorts. Hoseok dropped the ball with this one outfit, but maybe he didn’t care too much about your sleeping clothes. 

“Goodnight, sweet girlfriend of mine,” Jungkook coos, wiggling his toes in those dreaded toe socks. 

“Goodnight,” you huff, sticking your tongue out at him.

Wednesday greeted you with Luna’s obnoxious barking. 

You groaned as you placed a pillow over your head, hoping to drown out the sound, but alas, it was no use. 

“Koo,” you whine, throwing a pillow at him. He grunts in response from his makeshift bed on the floor. 

“I hear it too,” he murmurs as he tries to cling to sleep, but it’s useless. 

Cursing, Jungkook sits up. He stretches and yawns for a minute before getting to his feet and folding his makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. His back and neck would be hating him all day. 

With all the excitement of Grandmother Jeon and your new sleeping arrangements, there wasn’t any time for any practice. 

Now you have bedhead and morning breath, and god, you hope you don’t have dried drool on the corner of your mouth. You can’t let Jungkook see you like this!

“Close your eyes!” You hiss as you scramble out of his bed. 

Jungkook's eyes widen in alarm. “What?! Why?!” 

“Just do it! Don’t look at me!” You hiss as you hear the barking move further away. You try to step over your fake boyfriend but trip on a blanket and fall beside him. 

Jungkook grunts when you elbow him in the stomach, and before either of you can move, the door opens, and Jungkook’s mother stands there with wide eyes. 

“Um, breakfast will be ready in a bit,” she says as she shuts the door as quickly as possible. Perhaps next time she’ll remember to knock, but after the commotion, she was worried someone was hurt. 

“Great,” Jungkook sighs as he falls back into his pillows to stare at the ceiling. 

What a great way to start his morning.

Jungkook’s parents and grandmother are gone for the rest of the day. Something about slot machines and Grandmother Jeon feeling lucky… or did she say she was gonna get lucky?

“Luna Patrice Jeon,” you huff, stomping your foot as you try to get her coat on her, but she wriggles in Jungkook’s beefy arms. 

The two of you were supposed to be outside five minutes ago, and all your friends and their dogs were waiting for you and Jungkook. 

Jungkook had managed to put Luna’s booties on, but she was a squirmy little thing when it came to her coat and earmuffs. Minji had been very thorough with her instructions, and Jungkook promised to watch his aunt. 

His dog-aunt.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Seokjin coos as he lets himself into the Jeon home. 

Luna pants as Seokjin rubs between her ears and easily gets the coat on her. About four inches of snow had fallen overnight, and the dogs were eager to play at the park just down the road. 

“There we go, Luna. That wasn’t so bad, huh?” Seokjin grins as he kisses the dog on the forehead and puts the earmuffs on. 

“God, he’s a dog whisperer,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, but Seokjin ignores him as he sets Luna in the stroller with her blanket and some treats. He zips the stroller shut and carries it out onto the sidewalk. 

“I can’t help it if the ladies love me,” Seokjin smirks as he sends a wink your way. You smile bashfully, giggling when he blows you a kiss. 

“Hey!” Jungkook stomps his foot. His cute bunny nose scrunching. “You’re my girlfriend!”

“Better keep her close, JK!” Jimin teases as he pushes his dog stroller. 

Namjoon and his little dog wear matching coats and booties, leading the group down the road. Taehyung pushes his stroller, where his Pomeranian sleeps wrapped in a fluffy blanket, and Seokjin carries Hoseok’s dog that he may have snatched for this outing. 

“Who knew we’d end up pushing strollers this Christmas break instead of clubbing,” Yoongi chuckles as he meets up with you at the end of the block. In his stroller with the spinning rims sits his dog, Holly.

“Almost seems like we’re growing up,” Taehyung wipes a fake tear from his cheek as the group pushes the strollers on the sidewalk. 

“Who do you think will push one of these with an actual child first?” Namjoon asks as his dog sniffs the snow, his nose freezing at the contact. 

“Jungkook,” the group answers as Jimin and Taehyung push their strollers in a light jog, racing to the first tree they see a few feet away. 

“Pfft, why me? I’m the baby,” Jungkook protests. 

“Aren’t you the one with the breeding kink?” Yoongi smirks as he walks past the two of you.

Jungkook is left flabbergasted. His face rivals a tomato’s as he feels his ears burn just as bright. 

“I told you that in confidence!”

“Whoops!” Yoongi cackles as he joins the race between Tae and Jimin.  

Jungkook wonders if four inches of melting snow would be enough to drown him.

You push the stroller with Luna, giggling as you jog past Jungkook.

“Sucks for you!” You call over your shoulder. “I’m on the pill!”

Jungkook curses Yoongi, running after him as he threatens to end the Min line with him. 

Namjoon smiles as he walks beside Seokjin, enjoying the chaos he created from his question. 

“You’re an evil little man,” Seokjin cackles as Namjoon laughs and follows the group.

Thursday afternoon is filled with last-minute Christmas shopping. 

Seojun and Saraí have joined you. Seokjin and Jimin tagged along, but it seemed they weren’t as necessary now as they thought they would be. 

Sure, Seokjin still curbed the conversation when you or Jungkook failed to answer a question or two about your relationship, but it wasn’t anything detrimental. The group honestly thought you had this in the bag, and with Christmas only three days away, there wasn’t a whole lot to worry about. 

Jungkook rubs his neck for the fifth time. He can’t seem to get rid of the soreness he’s gotten from sleeping on the floor. 

You pull him away after you lose Jimin and Seokjin in a department store with blasting Christmas music. 

“Sleep with me tonight,” you said as you held Jungkook’s hand in a surprisingly empty aisle. The hustle and bustle of shoppers falls into the background, and all Jungkook can hear is the rapid drumming of his heart.

“W-what?” He stutters with wide eyes. He toys with his lip ring, a nervous habit of his. 

“Sleep with me on the bed tonight, Kook. You’re obviously in a lot of pain, and I feel bad.” You frown as you turn him around to rub his neck and shoulders. 

Jungkook resists the urge to curse, biting his lip to hide a moan as you get into the muscles. Fuck, he really needed to sleep in a proper bed soon. 

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks as he slowly pulls your hands off him to hold in his.

“It’s only for a few more days,” you shrug. “Grandmother Jeon leaves for her cruise before the new year, so why not?”

Jungkook is reluctant, but as a cramp hits his neck. 

He nods. “If you’re sure.”

“Definitely,” you smile as you lace your fingers with his to lead him out of the aisle. You lead him out of the store and toward the giant Christmas tree in the center of the mall. 

You take your phone out and snap a cute picture of the two of you before looking at it and see mistletoe on one of the branches above your head. 

Jungkook blushes as he pecks your lips, but you pull him back in for another kiss. You fist his jacket in your hand as you pull him close, your lips moving with his perfectly as the cool metal of his lip ring brushes your lips. You moan when he nips at your lip, gently sucking it before releasing it. 

His dark gaze sends tingles down your spine as you wrap your arms around his neck, and he leans in to kiss you again. 

“Tonight,” Jungkook murmured against your lips, the two of you stuck like magnets, unwilling to pull apart. 

“Tonight,” you agree as you kiss him again, your fingers tugging on his lush locks just enough to make him curse against your lips. 

“You’ll pay for that, baby,” he groans when you do it again.  

“I can’t wait, Koo.”

Your shower takes longer than usual that night. You shave, exfoliate, and lotion every bit of you that Jungkook might touch. 

You’re nervous but excited at the thought of him touching you. Just kissing you nearly sends you over the edge sometimes, and the way he grips your hips as if he must be anchored to you to breathe, well, it’s a nice feeling. 

By the time you’re climbing into bed, the house is silent. Jungkook turns on his mood lamp, and his playlist plays softly in the background. 

He’s made sure to lock the door this time to keep his mother out. 

A purple towel is draped over his shoulders as he plops down on the desk chair. He gives his hair one more rub, but he’s already had the hairdryer on it for a bit. 

You try not to ogle his bare chest, the colorful sleeve of tattoos grabbing your attention almost 

immediately as he sets the towel down.  

“Mind if I sleep without a shirt on? I tend to run hot,” he explains as he tongues his ring. 

“That’s fine,” you squeak as heat rushes to your cheeks. You pull the covers to your chest, wiggling your toes as you avoid meeting his gaze. Though his abs are now in your view, and your thighs press together in response. What you wouldn’t give to kiss every beautiful ridge of his torso, taking your time on his sensitive brown nipples. You wonder if he’d ever get them pierced. 

“Need anything while I’m up, babe?” Jungkook asks as he stretches, his arms raised over his head and you nearly whimper as you feast on his perfect physique. 

You’re nearly salivating by the time he’s finished stretching. He tilts his head as he waits for your answer but you blink owlishly and finally meet his gaze. 

“Hmm?” You ask as you blink again as he laughs. He shakes his head as he crosses the distance between you, moving the blankets out of the way as he gets into bed with you. 

“You’re adorable,” he whispers as he pecks your nose.

You smile, clearing your throat as you lie on the bed. Jungkook turns on his side to face you, and you do the same. His arm drapes over your waist, and you snuggle in closer.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, almost as if it were a secret. Perhaps it is with the way he strokes your waist, refusing to make eye contact; afraid of what his words will shift. 

“I’m glad I’m here too, Kook. I don’t want to be anywhere else,” you admit as his gaze meets yours. He studies you for a few moments. His beautiful eyes sparkle like the stars in the night sky, shining brighter and brighter with each passing second until they flutter shut and his lips mold to yours. 

“Jungkook,” his name rolls off your tongue so sweetly. 

“Yeah, baby?” He asks in between kisses, his hands never straying from your hips until you guide them upward to cup your tits. He curses, dark eyes piercing through your soul as you make him squeeze them. 

“Fuck,” you whimper. 

Jungkook kisses you again, swallowing your moans as his thumbs brush your pert nipples. Your hands settle on his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he trails kisses down your neck until he hits that one spot that has you seeing stars behind your lids.  

“Jungkook,” you sigh as you part your legs for him. He settles between them as your nails rake down his broad muscular back. You’d love to kiss every inch of it. Leave your mark behind for all to see. For now, you’ll settle for your scratch marks, storing each of his delicious sounds for later. 

Fiery lips meet yours as his hips rock against you. His hands feel every bit of you, moving when he notes any hesitation.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly, his gaze locked on yours. 

You nod.

“I need words, baby,” he says as he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “I need to hear it.”

“Please,” you swallow thickly, mesmerized by his soft doe eyes. “I want it. Want you.”

Jungkook traces your bottom lip with his thumb, admiring your beauty for a moment before he kisses you again as if it were the last time. 

Time means nothing to you as you melt beneath him. His hands are hot against your flesh, needy where they meet to pull you closer. Your name escapes him between moans and gasps, your hand guiding him between your legs. 

“Please,” you beg as he pushes your shorts to the side, groaning when he feels how wet you are. 

“No panties, darling?” He grins as he kisses your jaw and trails downward. 

“Didn’t think I needed them,” you gasp when his fingers brush your clit. He’s teasing you. He wants to see how far he can take you before you beg him for more, plead and whine until he gives you just what you need. 

Jungkook licks his lips, shaking his long hair out of his eyes before he tongues his lip ring. His breath fans against your heated skin, teeth gently nipping your earlobe as he whispers, “You were right.”

Your thighs shake at the sound of his seductive tone, spreading further for him as he lifts your shirt to bunch above your breasts. 

“Keep that right there, baby. Can you do that for me?” He raises a brow, and you nod. 

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing your lips before making his way down until his fingers are tugging on your flimsy sleep shorts. 

“Can I take these off?” Jungkook asks as he meets your eyes. You nod, feeling fire pool deep in your belly. You want him desperately, almost embarrassingly, with how soaked you are for him already. 

When he doesn’t make a move to take them off, you remember he wants you to be vocal about your consent.

“Yes, please.” 

Jungkook pulls the shorts down your legs at a snail’s pace, giving you enough time to change your mind if you wish to. You encourage him by lifting your hips and kicking the shorts off to be lost on his bedroom floor. 

You don’t get a chance to be self-conscious as he cups your face and kisses you so deeply, that you almost wonder if he’s in love with you. 

The pounding of your heart is deafening as the kiss deepens and his hips press against your cunt. Your name rolls off his tongue, cursing and groaning when his hard cock grinds against you. 

“You’ve soaked my sweatpants,” he laughs breathily, and you clench around nothing. Your face feels like it’s burning, but from lust or embarrassment, you’re not sure. Jungkook kisses your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips. 

“S-sorry,” you apologized as he rubs your clit, his nimble fingers circling it just to make you whine. Jungkook teases your entrance with his tattooed fingers, loving the way you whimper and beg for more, biting your bottom lip to keep from getting too loud. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moan when he finally sinks two fingers in knuckle-deep. You clench around them as he slowly fucks them into you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he focuses on the rise and fall of your chest.  

Jungkook palms his cock with his other hand, moaning softly when your eyes lock. He smirks as you reach for him and he places your hand on his cock. 

“Can you take them off?” You ask bashfully, and he chuckles before slowly taking his fingers out of you. He sucks them into his mouth, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he gets a taste of you. 

Fuck, he’d have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day for the rest of his life if you’d let him. 

Your thighs tremble as he steps back, cunt soaked and dripping onto his sheets. You’re the first girl he’s had in his bed like this and he hopes your scent lingers long after you’re back home. 

Jungkook is a vision. An Adonis among men. Michaelangelo himself would have shed a tear upon gazing at the masterpiece that is Jeon Jungkook. 

Speechless, you reach for him as he chuckles. He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before placing it on his chest. 

“Do as you wish, my love,” Jungkook says as he follows your hand with his hooded gaze. 

Your brain seems to be empty of all thoughts except Jungkook. His name, his body, that sinful smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. He’s eyeing you with mirth, licking his lips as your hand descends until it’s cupping his erection. 

“Fuck,” he breathes as you stroke him, your fingers sliding under his boxers to feel the weight of him in your palm. He groans, whispering your name as you continue to stroke him, pausing only to spit in your hand. He takes the moment to tug his boxers off.

Jungkook kisses you as you touch him again, his fingers finding their home between your thighs as he gets you to nearly sing his name in praise as you tighten around him. 

“Wish you were wrapped around my fat cock, babe. I’d make you scream even louder,” he goads as you muffle your cries in his broad shoulder right beside his little scar. 

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as he kisses you deeply. It’s hot, messy, all teeth and tongues and desperate touches as his cock pressed against your clit. You’re soaking wet, dripping onto the sheets and allowing his cock to glide easily, the fat head bumping against your clit as your legs wrap around him trembling at his sides. 

“Koo!” You whine, biting down on his shoulder. Hasty kisses meet his skin as you soothe the pain of your love bite. Your body becomes overwhelmed with pleasure, arching into him as you orgasm, squeezing his fingers until they’re soaked beyond his wrist. 

Jungkook cries out your name, lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss that swallows his moans and groans as he cums all over your cunt. His hips rock against you until he’s well spent, cock too sensitive to go on. 

“Shit!” He breathes as he lies beside you with his arm over his head. 

You’re warm and sticky beside him, his cum coating your skin generously. Jungkook kisses your cheek as he pulls you to him, using his other hand to fix his boxers. 

He doesn’t like the way they cling to him and he’ll be sure to clean himself up as well as you before you go to sleep. 

Silence fills the space between you as you stare at each other with bashful smiles and gentle touches. Jungkook kisses your lips softly, his fingers caressing your cheek.  

“I really do like you, ya know,” he admits, and it sends your heart soaring into the heavens. 

You bite back a giant grin as you lace your fingers together. “I really like you too.”

Jungkook blushes, kissing you once more before he climbs out of bed to get cleaned up. He assures you he’ll be back in a few minutes and he cleans you up with a warm washcloth and helps you to the bathroom. 

Once you’re both in bed again, he snuggles into you. His fluffy hair splays on your chest as he snores softly. You smile to yourself as you hold back a yawn. 

Jungkook sleeps soundly as you stroke his hair, hoping this can be more than just pretend. 

Christmas Eve brings a blanket of snow and Seojun and Saraí. 

Though you and Jungkook haven’t done more than fool around that one night, you’ve found it hard to keep your hands to yourself. 

Seojun, Saraí, and Jungkook took you sledding at one of their favorite spots. 

Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi were already there when you arrived, holding hands with Jungkook. 

“Where are Joon and Seokjin?” You ask as you hide your face from the wind on Jungkook's shoulder. He laughs as he tightens your scarf and kisses your head. 

“They went to pick up Hoseok at the train station. Hoseok’s parents are busy prepping for Christmas Eve dinner, and his sister is bringing someone home,” Jimin explains as he hands his sled to Taehyung to take a turn.  

“Sounds serious,” Yoongi comments with a sly grin. 

“My parents keep asking when I’ll bring someone home,” Jimin sighs. “Are you free next Christmas?”

Jungkook scoffs. “As if.”

“Not you.” Jimin rolls his eyes before saying your name. 

Yoongi laughs as Taehyung comes back. 

“I don’t think passing me around as a fake girlfriend is what your parents mean, Min,” you shake your head as you take the sled from Taehyung. 

Jimin shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

Jungkook glares at him before you tug him away to the top of the hill. He helps you onto the sled before he gets on behind you and pushes. You scream and close your eyes as you go down, laughing when you come to a stop moments later. 

“Wanna go again?” Jungkook grins as he helps you up. You shake your head as you pat the snow off your clothing. 

“I’m good,” you laugh. “Once was enough.”

The trek back up the hill is rough as you stomp in the snow to reach your friends. Jungkook hands the sled to Yoongi as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. 

Despite admitting to liking each other, you haven’t talked to determine what that means. For one, you kind of like this limbo you’re in where you’re not not together but also not truly faking either. 

At one point or another, you’ll have to have that conversation, but it’s Christmas Eve, and Jungkook looks too cute with his giant snowball. 

Oh, no.

He’s heading toward you and Jimin. This is what happens when you get lost in thought. Jimin grabs your hand and pulls as Yoongi and Taehyung run in the opposite direction.  

Jungkook cackles as he chases after you and Jimin. The snowball rises high in the air as he shouts, “Come get your Christmas gift, Park!”

Luna herds the family up the stairs later that night when she’s ready for bed.

Jungkook and you wear your matching pajamas. An evening of food, laughter, and photos has drained you as you go up the stairs after Minji and Luna. 

Jungkook keeps his hand on your lower back, guiding your sleepy self up the stairs and down the hall. 

“Goodnight, honey,” Minji kisses Jungkook’s cheek and then yours. 

You smile as you climb into bed with Jungkook beside you. His mood lamp is on, and you’re grateful for the pink stars that light the ceiling. Even at your age, you’re still a little scared of the dark.  

“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks as he rolls to his side to face you. 

You face him, your fingers laced with his. 

“I’m just really glad I came to your home for the holidays. It’s been amazing. You, your family, everything has been perfect.” you smile warmly as he brings your knuckles to his lips to kiss gently. 

“I’m glad you came. I know this whole thing has been a little odd, but getting to know you and being here with you has been the best part of this Christmas.” Jungkook pecks you on the lips, unable to control the smile that lights up his face. 

Your gaze holds his, the sparkle in his eyes making you fall for him a little more as they grow brighter with each passing second.

“Kiss me,” you whisper as you lean in closer, and he closes the distance between you with his lips. They’re soft and taste like strawberry chapstick when they brush against your lips. You break apart for a moment, his eyes revealing more than you want to speak of now. 

Instead, you whisper, “Kiss me again.”

Slowly, Jungkook kisses you again. He cups your face while you tug on his shirt, quickly removing it from him. 

His breathy laugh brushes your skin as he noses at your throat. “Eager?”

“Shut up,” you hiss, climbing on top of him as his hands grip your hips. 

Jungkook groans at your words, licking his lips as you take your top off to discard on the bedroom floor. Your fingers make quick work of your bra and soon you’re left topless and horny on top of him. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses as he gets an eyeful of your breasts and nearly drools as his hands move upwards to cup them in his hands. You moan his name when his fingers brush the sensitive nipples, making them peak. 

As much as he loves seeing you on top, Jungkook wants to take his time with you. This was a turn of events he wasn’t expecting, otherwise, he would have waited for your first time together to be at his place, in private where you could scream his name as loud as you wanted. 

However, he won’t pass up the chance to have you. You’ve had such a hard time keeping your hands off each other even around your friends. Stealing kisses and sneaking off to make out in dim hallways and busy restaurant alleys. Light touches under tables, lustful looks shared across the room until you could sneak off together and kiss as if your lives depended on it. 

If Jungkook could do this all over again, he would. Only he’d make you his from the get-go. But that’s a thought for another time as your hands glide up his torso, moaning at the sight of him. 

“Jungkook,” his name tumbles so sweetly from your kiss-swollen lips. 

His breath fans across your face as he chuckles. His dark locks create a curtain between you. Slowly, your fingers push his hair out of the way to find his sparkling eyes locked on yours. You melt beneath him as he kisses you. 

Your hands grip his strong shoulders as your legs wrap around his hips to pull him close. Jungkook laughs at your eagerness, teeth nipping your bottom lip before releasing it. 

Jungkook kisses his way down to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin until his name fills the bedroom. You cover your mouth to muffle your moans, but he’s quick to remove it. 

With lust-filled eyes, you watch as he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each fingertip until he’s kissing your palm and moving upwards. 

Jungkook wants to take his time with you. Show you his appreciation from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. He knows you’ll only let him do so much before you beg for more, more, more…

Like clockwork, your fingers thread through his hair directing his lips to yours as you kiss him with everything you’ve got. He moans against your lips, cursing when you tug on his bottom lip. 

Your hands move downward across the massive expanse of his back, each muscle rippling beneath your touch as you arch into him. Your hips grind against him, the thin material of your shorts already soaking wet with your arousal. 

Jungkook nearly growls when he feels it, cock throbbing in the next moment. He hikes your leg up higher on his waist, his hand grabbing your ass as his lips feverishly seek yours. 

Gasps and moans fill the space between you in between hot, needy kisses that make your toes curl. Panting, you beg him for more as his hands tug your shorts off to toss on the bedroom floor; forgotten until morning. 

You lay bare beneath him as he sat back on his haunches. His hands lace with yours, a soft bashful smile on his lips. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes never straying from yours as he leans in for a kiss. 

Jungkook’s had enough teasing. His hands grip your thighs, cursing when he feels your wetness on your skin. He slowly rubs your clit, his dark hooded gaze on yours. 

“Fuck, baby,” he curses as he moves his fingers downward and slowly slides them inside you. He watches you closely; loves the way your eyes flutter shut and your teeth sink into your bottom lip as he curls his fingers and rubs your clit with his thumb. 

“Kook,” you moan when he goes faster, slipping a little deeper just to watch you tremble. “Fuck me.”

You’re tired of waiting. You’ve wanted this since before you shared your first kiss and now being naked in his bed is becoming too much. You’ve dreamed of this time and time again and it’s about to become a reality if Jungkook can stop teasing you and just split you open. 

You’ll beg, plead, and cry if you have to just for a taste of him. Just for a moment of sweet bliss. 

“Please,” you beg as your hands palm over his cock in his pajama pants. You’re quick to tug them downward and Jungkook laughs at your excitement. He gets off the bed to kick them off and your mouth waters at the sight of his thick cock as he wraps his hand around it and strokes it. 

You bite your bottom lip, watching him intently until you’re getting on your knees and crawling to the edge of the bed. 

Jungkook groans when your hand wraps around his length. Your tongue licking the head teasingly. His gaze burns into the top of your head as your lips wrap around him. You relax your jaw as you take him in further, drooling all over yourself as you remind yourself to breathe through your nose. 

He feels heavy on your tongue as you open wider. His hands grip your hair hesitantly before you pull off him. 

“Don’t be scared,” you giggle. “I won’t break.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you wrap your lips around him once again. He lets you find your pace, not pushing too deep before he’s guiding you. Your hand rolls his balls while the other strokes him. 

“Just like that. Fuck,” Jungkook throws his head back, the mood lamp illuminates the room, accentuating the veins in his neck, and he curses again. You moan around him, slurping as you get messy, bobbing up and down, gagging on his fat cock while Jungkook loses his mind over your pretty lips. 

He pulls on your hair, using it to fuck your mouth until your nose presses to his abdomen. You choke, pulling off him to catch your breath. 

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” Jungkook tongues his lip ring as he takes you in. You’re breathing heavily trying to catch your breath. Your hair is mussed from him tugging on it, and your lips are smeared with spit and his pre-cum. You look beautiful.

Jungkook leans forward, kissing you. All teeth and tongue, unable to resist how gorgeous you look in that moment. 

It’s not too long before you’re back on the bed with your legs spread wide open for him, begging for his cock once again. 

“So needy,” Jungkook coos as he strokes himself, the fat head of his cock brushing your clit. 

“Please,” you whimper, trying to raise your hips in hopes that he’ll just slide right in. “Fuck.”

Jungkook bites his lip. He’s never seen anyone so desperate for his dick. It makes him throb as he teases your entrance and a whine of his name escapes you, nails digging into his back. 

“Don’t make me find someone else,” you huff. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he kisses your jaw, trailing upward to your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth. 

“They can’t fuck you as good as I will,” he laughs cockily. 

You arch into him, lips meeting his in a needy kiss as he slides into you. The stretch is wonderful. Stars illuminate your vision as Jungkook’s lips muffle the moan that threatens to wake the whole house. 

The two of you have managed to keep the noises down to a reasonable level but Jungkook knows his luck might run out if he gets too carried away. Shit, he should have waited until he had you to himself at his apartment or even your dorm. 

“Gotta be quiet, baby. Or I’ll have to stop,” Jungkook whispers as he sinks in further. “You don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“No, please don’t stop. Koo,” you press your lips to his shoulder as he goes deeper, gripping your thighs with his large hands. He settles between your legs perfectly, cursing at the ceiling at how warm and wet you feel wrapped around him. It’s better than he could have ever imagined. 

Jungkook grabs both of your legs, throwing them over his left shoulder as he pummels into you. 

Tears flow down your cheeks. The pleasure is too overwhelming, lighting your body ablaze with each deep thrust that rewards you. 

“So tight,” Jungkook grunts as his hair falls over his eyes. He pushes it back with his tattooed hand before moving it down to grope your breast, his fingers rolling your nipple just to listen to the sweet cries that escape you. 

You tighten around him, soaking his cock as you cover your mouth with your hand. 

Jungkook smiles, fucking you deeper, harder. Your cunt clings to him, thighs shaking as he holds your legs to his chest. His lips press a kiss to your calf before you dig your nails into the sheets beneath you, beyond ruined. 

The creaking of the mattress is louder than Jungkook would like, but you look like you’re about to combust. His name leaves your lips in quick succession, nearly panting as tears roll down your cheeks, leaving behind stains as you bite your hand to keep from screaming his name as you tighten around him when you cum. 

Jungkook fucks you slower, eyes focused on where your bodies connect. He waits for you to calm down, leaning forward to kiss your lips. 

“Can you go for one more?” Jungkook asks in between kisses, your tongue meeting his as he cups your face. 

“Yes,” you answer honestly, wanting more of him. 

Jungkook kisses you one more time, moaning into the kiss as you clench around his cock. He nearly growls when you do it again, moving your hips against his.  

“Let me get you on your hands and knees, darling,” Jungkook says as he pulls out of you and you whine at the loss. 

Jungkook chuckles. “Easy, doll. You’ll have my ego growing bigger.”

You laugh, flipping him off. Jungkook laughs, leaning forward to gently nibble on your finger before you rip it out of his mouth.

Smirking, Jungkook helps you onto your knees as you plant your hands on the bed, arching your back. 

Jungkook runs his tattooed hand over your back, gently slapping your ass just to watch it jiggle. He couldn’t lie, seeing you in jeans made his mouth water and there were a few times he had to excuse himself after staring at it for too long. 

“Kook,” you say his name in a wanton tone that makes him melt. 

Your eyes lock and he smiles as he grabs your ass in both hands, spreading you open for him. Your face grows hot as you turn around, unable to handle the dark lust-filled gaze he rewarded you with. 

Jungkook doesn’t waste any more time as he lines himself up at your entrance, cursing when you welcome him easily. 

His hands grip your hips tightly, almost enough to bruise. His name rolls off your tongue. You nearly drool when he reaches places others have only dreamed of. 

You're so warm, so wet. It nearly drives him insane as he spears you on his cock. You’re soaking him, absolutely drenching him, and ruining him for anyone else. You’re the only one he wants, the only one he could ever want, and as he throws his head back in pleasure, he loses himself to thoughts he’d only shared with Yoongi. 

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook growls, gripping your ass as he continues to fuck you. He cards his hand through his hair, feeling sweat bead on his brow as you grow restless and fuck yourself on his dick. 

“Just like that, baby. Use me. Use my cock. Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you fuck yourself on him, panting and moaning. He can see you biting down on his pillow, cunt pulsing around him as you scream into the pillow trying to keep quiet. 

Jungkook watches you for another moment or two before he’s slamming into you. You cry out, face buried in his pillow as he grabs handfuls of your hips and ass, unable to decide what to use to anchor himself as he fills you again and again. 

“Fuck, darling. You feel so good wrapped around me,” Jungkook grunts as his eyes flutter shut. His body tingles all over, and your moans are growing in octaves despite the pillow clenched between your teeth soaked with spit and tears. 

The obscene smacking of your coupling is almost too loud but Jungkook can’t be damned to give a single fuck as you clench around him, nearly milking his cock. He moans your name and curses as you tighten around him, moaning incoherently as you orgasm once again. Your poor legs shake as you ride it out, sobbing unintelligibly into the bed as praises you. 

“Want to fuck you full of my cum, baby,” Jungkook can’t help himself as he thrusts in deeper. He’s so close. His lip is caught between his teeth as you fuck yourself weakly on his cock, your body still tingling. 

“Please, do it,” you spur him on as you clench around him, tempting him. 

“Baby!”

“Jungkook!”

“Gonna fill you up until you’re dripping. Gonna fuck it all back into you, baby. Make you think of me all day.” Jungkook curses as you meet each of his thrusts, his fingers finding your sensitive clit as you muffle a wail of his name in your hand.

“Come on, love. Just one more for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook encourages as he nears the edge. He curses, losing himself as he fills you, and you tighten around him, soaking him and the sheets. A whimper escapes you as you fall forward on the bed, utterly spent. 

Jungkook exhales deeply as he fills you to the brim before pulling out. He’s tempted to spread your legs and set them on his broad shoulders, lick you clean, and put you to bed. 

But you’re spent, eyes barely open as you reach for him. 

Jungkook kisses you gently. “Gotta clean you up, babe.”

You groan, legs already feeling sore. Jungkook helps you out of bed. He puts a shirt on you and opens his bedroom door as quietly as possible. He peeks into the hallway, making sure the coast is clear before he leads you to the bathroom. 

Jungkook made sure you were steady enough to not fall before he ran to the room to change the sheets and pillowcases. By the time you’re back, he’s in a pair of boxers. 

“Get in bed, babe,” he instructs as he helps you in and tucks you in. “I’ll be right back.”

You watch him go, waiting for him and smiling when he comes back a few minutes later with some water. He lets you drink a bit before he gets into bed beside you. 

You curl into him, still unsure of what all this means, but you don’t care much when he wraps you up in his arms and holds you close. 

“Sleep well, darling.”

Christmas morning passes in a whirlwind of breakfast and movies. Lots of stories from Jungkook’s childhood; few you heard from the man himself and more from his parents. Jungkook grows embarrassed soon, but nothing beats the flush on his cheeks when his mother pulls out the photo albums. Lunch came and passed with more stories and photos as Jungkook hid his face on your shoulder.

It’s not until after dinner that you’re all gathered in the living room with Minji and the Jeons. 

“Come here, dear,” Minji pats the spot beside her as she holds a large pink photo album in her lap. One she brought for your arrival. 

Jungkook sits on the arm of the couch next to you, curious eyes on the album as Minji opens it and takes out two envelopes. 

One she hands to Jungkook and the other to you. 

You’re confused. The family had exchanged gifts just after dinner with good wishes and warm coffee and cookies. Wrapping paper and gift bags still littered the living room floor. 

“The two of you are so good together,” Minji comments as Jungkook kisses the top of your head. “I had this same talk with Saraí and Seojun when he first brought her home. Same with your father and your mother, and now you.”

Minji places a hand on yours. “I first met Jungkook’s grandfather at the Christmas parade in town. Oh, we couldn’t stand each other one bit!”

Jungkook chuckles as he listens to his grandmother.

“We were assigned the same parade float, and I swear that man was as stubborn as a mule! He wanted goats instead of reindeer, fireworks instead of candles, and he wanted me to be Santa! He said he’d be an elf! He was over six feet tall! An elf!” Minji shakes her head as she points to a photo of her as an elf and who you assume to be Jungkook’s grandfather as Santa. 

“I arm wrestled him for it!” Minji exclaims proudly. “In front of his friends, and I won fair and square! I grew up with three brothers.”

You laugh as she turns the page, and Minji sits with her brothers. They all smile in the photo and make silly faces. 

“I thought he’d be embarrassed that I beat him. But I got my way. I stood my ground and he claimed that’s when he knew I was the one for him,” Minji continues as she flips the page and runs her fingers over her wedding photo. 

Tears pool in your eyes as you look at Jungkook. He looks like he’s about to cry, and guilt fills your chest. 

“That man gave me a wonderful life. Beautiful children and cute grandkids. I miss him every day. Stubborn man he was, but there was nothing we couldn’t get through together.” Minji wipes a stray tear before smiling fondly. 

“Anyway,” she sniffles as she sets the album on the coffee table. 

“I wanted to give you two something special to get you started. I know you haven’t been together for too long, but Jungkook looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me and you the way I looked at him. I know it deep in my soul that you two belong together.” Minji smiles warmly as she takes your hand and Jungkook’s. “Be good to each other.”

You wipe a few tears and look at Jungkook. He opens the envelope, and it holds a photo of a home (not an apartment) with the address written on the back and a small gold key. 

You can’t do this. 

Not anymore.

The Jeons have welcomed you with open arms and all you’ve done is lie to them. Guilt washes over you in waves as you force yourself not to cry. This is wrong. 

You hand the envelope back to Minji before rising to your feet. Your heart pounds in your chest, nearly deafening you as you try (and fail) to steel yourself. 

“We lied,” you state, wringing your hands in front of you. 

Jungkook frowns as he hands his envelope back to Minji. Guilt bubbles deep in his belly, and he knows this has gone too far. He should have never gone on with this scheme. Conning his grandmother? He felt terrible. He should have told the truth from the beginning. 

“We aren’t a couple,” Jungkook admits, feeling the confused stares of his family. “We lied to you all.”

Aera and Dae stare at their youngest son and then at you. 

Minji shakes her head.

“I lied,” Jungkook continues as he takes your hand. “She had nothing to do with it. I begged her to help me. I’m so sorry, Grandmother Jeon.”

Seojun stares with furrowed brows as Saraí places her hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t fathom why his little brother would lie.

“I thought Grandmother Jeon would give me an apartment or something if she thought I was seeing someone seriously like Seojun.” Jungkook hangs his head in shame. “The lie kept growing and growing until I was too embarrassed to tell the truth. I never meant to hurt anyone. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not all his fault, Grandmother Jeon,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I agreed to help. You’ve all been so welcoming, and I didn’t have a place to go for the holidays, and I agreed. We never intended to harm anyone. We’re both so sorry.”

Minji laughs from her seat, surprising Aera and Dae. 

“I know all about your little scheme,” Minji laughs, shaking her head as if this were the most comical thing she has witnessed. “Jimin’s grandmother hits the slot machines with me, and that boy sure loves to open his mouth. I’ve known since I arrived, honey.”

“Jungkook! Why would you lie? You know you could have told us anything!” Aera crosses her arms as she scolds her son. 

“I just felt pressured,” Jungkook admits, and his mother sinks. “I hadn’t dated in a while, and I know you’d like to see me married like Seojun, but it just seemed like this is what everyone wanted from me.”

“Son,” Dae approaches him, hugging him. “We know we can be a little pushy, and I promise you will no longer feel pressured to settle down. We just got excited over Seojun. We wanted you to have the same happiness and partnership he and Saraí do.”

“Your father’s right,” Aera nods as she hugs Jungkook. “Oh, my baby! I’m so sorry for pressuring you! I just worry about you being alone so far away.”

“I’m fine, mom. I’ve got friends, and now I have her.” Jungkook reaches for you once his parents release him from their hugs.

Aera hugs you. “I’m so sorry for all this. We enjoy having you here. You’ve made our son and family so happy with your presence. It’s been a joy getting to know you and seeing how happy you’ve made our Kookie.”

You smile, hugging her tight before Minji hands Jungkook the envelope again. 

“That’s yours to do as you please,” she states as she hands you your envelope.

You open it and gasp when you see two tickets to a resort you’ve wanted to go to. They’re dated for Spring Break.

“I’ve got a place down there that you’re welcome to visit during your vacation, but Jimin’s grandmother and I will be busy partying.”

“Mother!” Dae exclaims in shock. 

“What? I’m old enough to drink! I’ve been old enough to drink.” she shakes her head with a laugh. 

“I can’t accept this.” you try to return it, but Minji won’t take it. 

“No takebacks!” She grins as she rises from the couch, and Luna follows her, yapping at her ankles. 

“Should we go see the Christmas lights?” Seojun suggests as he rises to his feet and helps Saraí. 

The family heads out to join the rest of the neighborhood on a walk. Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin join you as you let your families go on ahead without you. 

“How’d it go?” Hoseok asks as he shivers, his ears peeking from his beanie. 

“Yeah,” Seokjin grins. “Did you get the apartment?”

“Did the plan work?” Taehyung questions. 

“Yes,” you say with a wry smile. 

“And no.” Jungkook shakes his head. 

“Huh?” Yoongi furrows his brows. 

“Jimin needs to learn that gossiping with your grandmother can bite you in the butt!” Jungkook hisses as he laces his fingers with yours. 

Jimin pales, turning his head and whistling to appear nonchalant. 

“Yeah, Min!” You agree with a laugh as Jungkook kisses your cheek. 

“I thought she’d forget!” Jimin defends as he gets playfully shoved by his friends. The snow crunches beneath your feet as you continue to walk, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting on the snow. 

“Oh no,” you giggle. “Jimin’s grandmother told Grandmother Jeon.”

“And she knew the moment she stepped into the house,” Jungkook sighed with a shake of his head. 

“Whoops!” Jimin laughs. 

“So much for ‘Con Jungkook’s Grandma, huh?” Namjoon sighed as a chill ran through him. His scarf fluttered in the light wind as snowflakes fell from the sky. 

“Shut up!” Jungkook laughs as he stops to form a snowball. 

Seokjin laughs, pulling Yoongi with him as they run away from Jungkook. 

Hoseok and Jimin slam into each other in their haste to escape the ricocheting snowball that smacks Namjoon in the chest. 

Namjoon curses, forming a snowball as Taehyung runs away, following Yoongi and Seokjin, begging them to protect him. 

You laugh as you take off, running with Jungkook as Namjoon hurls a snowball in your direction. 

Laughter fills the streets of the neighborhood as more people join the snowball fight while you jog away with Jungkook, holding hands as you hide behind a tree for cover. 

You’re pressed to his chest, peeking to see if you’ve been discovered yet, but being so far away from everyone just means silence surrounds you. 

The evening is quiet as snow continues to fall, and Jungkook wraps his scarf around you to keep you warm. You’re wearing matching coats, hands warm in your gloves as he pulls you closer. 

Everything fades into nothingness as his gaze meets yours. His hand is gentle when he cups your face. His gaze flits to your lips and back to your eyes. 

“You know this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” Jungkook whispers. 

“Me too,” you whisper as you hold his gaze.

“There’s only one thing that would make it better,” Jungkook smiles softly.

“And what’s that?” You ask as you bite your bottom lip.

“If you were mine,” Jungkook said with a dimpled smile. “For real this time.”

“I think I can make that happen,” you tease with a coquette smile. “But only with a kiss.”

Chuckling, Jungkook cups your face. “As you wish, baby.”

Jungkook captures your lips with his own, moaning when your fingers thread in his hair. He kisses you deeply as snowflakes coat your hair and his. 

There’s nothing better than kissing Jungkook, your boyfriend. The word makes your heart skip a beat as he deepens the kiss, soft moans escaping the both of you as your lips move in sync. 

Jungkook can’t help but be elated. His heart flutters as he realizes this is your first Christmas together. The first of many. He can see his future in your eyes—a home, a marriage, and children running down these streets covered in snow and Christmas lights. 

There’s nothing more he could ever want.

When he catches your gaze, a bashful smile appears on your lips as you ask, “What?” 

Jungkook shakes his head slightly, “Nothing. Just thinking about next Christmas.” 

“Oh, will I be back?” You ask cheekily as he pulls you closer, the laughter of your friends ringing in the background as they grow closer. 

“Definitely.” Jungkook seals his promise with a kiss just as your friends arrive, hooting as they circle you.

 “Come on, lovebirds,” Namjoon huffs. “Momma Jeon’s got hot chocolate and cookies waiting for us.” 

You laugh as Jungkook takes your hand, smiling as his friends race down the sidewalk to be the first on Momma Jeon’s porch. You smile, imagining all your Christmases like this, with your friends and Jungkook at your side. 

Before you reach his home, Jungkook stops you just beneath the door frame before pointing up. Mistletoe hangs above your head, and you share a smile. Jungkook gently places his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing it as he whispers, “Merry Christmas.” before he kisses you.

<&lt; part one

© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.

[ink-n-shadow]

stop the way the size difference would be insane between demon!ghost n angel!reader like the first time you actively seek out for his touch is when he's feeding you and you reach out to grasp his wrist before he's able to pull back, sniffling out a small thank you for keeping you all safe and clean and fed and actually caring for you despite his morals

oh the way he'd fall to his knees in the middle of a walmart just remembering how soft your skin was grazing his, all calloused and worn, is insane

GIN PLEASE YOU’RE MAKING THE BRAINROT WORSE😩

[ STARVED ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where you're hungry and touch starved!demon!ghost feeds you

𝜗𝜚 pairing: broken angel!reader x demon!ghost 𝜗𝜚 cw: mature themes (no smut but minors still DNI), reader being locked in a cage, demon!ghost being sweet, hand-feeding, touch starvation 𝜗𝜚 link to all my works in the demon!ghost au can be found here

sleeping in the solid gold cage that had become your home was a skill in and of itself, perfectly coiling up into a ball on your side with your knees tucked against your chest and your iridescent wings peeking out of the cage bars.

you spent most your time asleep, only being woken up when ghost turned the crank on the far wall and lowered the cage to the ground with a loud thud against the cobbled floors.

the thud shook you from your slumber and forced you to sit up slowly, sleep dripping like molasses from your lashes as you peeked up to see ghost standing before you. his burly arms were filled with a selection of food for you to choose from, ranging from delectable fruits like peaches and strawberries to more savory snacks like cheese and meats.

“didn’t know what you wanted,” ghost muttered under his breath as he dropped to one knee, still towering over you despite being at half-height and scattering the foods out in front of him. “so ‘got a bit of everything.”

you gingerly pushed yourself up to sit on your knees, arm rubbing the exhaustion and tears from your eyes as you glanced over the practical feast laid out before you. you tried to stretch an arm out through the bar, reaching for a pail of strawberries that was just out of reach only for ghost to nudge your tiny hand out of the way with his pinky.

“stop ‘hat,” ghost grumbled and picked up the pail with ease (which, in his grip, looked like a drinking glass), rummaging around the strawberries before finding one that was as plump and red as could be. “y’gonna hurt a wing if y’keep reachin’ like that. just lemme do it.”

you didn’t argue as ghost stuck his enormous fingers through the bars, his hand much too big to fully fit between the bars. the strawberry hung by its leaves between his clawed fingertips, once again slightly out of your reach. so you gripped onto the base of ghost’s thumb, your fingers barely wrapping all the way around it as you pulled his hand a bit closer and took a bite of the strawberry.

“thank you,” you lilted softly around a mouthful of chewed fruit, your fingers gently sliding off of ghost’s thumb as you settled back onto your knees once more.

what you didn’t expect was for ghost to all but drop the half bitten strawberry from his fingertips, letting it hit the floor of your cage with a wet squish as he quickly pulled his hand back and away from yours. his onyx eyes were wide as they traced over your features once more before ghost quickly turned away from you, an audible gulp leaving his lips and spine as stiff as a board.

ghost didn’t even say anything before he left, nor did he put the piles of food away like he usually did. he didn’t even pull your cage back up to suspend you from the ceiling. instead, he opted to retreat into his bedroom and lock the door behind him with a heavy thud.

it would be hours before you saw ghost again, wordlessly stomping toward the crank on the far wall to suspend you once more and away from his sight.

(bonus: you could’ve sworn you could see his clawed hands trembling as he pulled the crank down.)

[e-vay]

SONIC’S MOM (in my AU)

I’ve spent a really long time working on Sonic’s mom for my AU but I’m finally ready to share her with you!

I wrote this out in text form below the cut for those of you who need to translate it:

Domino was a free-spirited, independent hedgehog. Despite being dealt some rough cards in life, she always had an upbeat attitude and could find the silver lining to almost any situation. Domino had to get by with just the clothes on her back, so she quickly learned to be very resourceful. She was adamantly against material things, except for her one gold earring that she treasured. Her lack of funds led to a nomadic lifestyle, but this gave her a greater appreciation for the planet and she ended up loving her minimalist way of life.

A one-time tryst led to Domino being pregnant with Sonic at a relatively young age. Though she knew nothing about being a mom, she loved him instantly. She couldn’t offer him much, so she did her best to teach him how to make the most out of what little they had and to appreciate all the wonderful things the planet has to offer. Sonic was able to crawl, walk and soon run faster than most babies, so he was very quick to fend for himself. This made Domino’s life easier and more challenging at the same time!

PHLOX: Sonic’s biological father. He and Domino met while they were both passing through the same village and had instant chemistry. She wasn’t one to stay in one place for long, so she took off after one night together. He never knew about Sonic.

Being a young, single mom is tough enough. When your baby has the ability to run at super speeds, it gets even more complicated. Domino was constantly repairing Sonic’s baby shoes when he repeatedly wore the rubber off, but eventually even her trusty roll of duct tape wasn’t enough to cut it. She ended up giving up her solid gold earring to buy him a pair of durable shoes that could withstand his speed.

Domino had a bad habit of telling tall tales. She didn’t do this to be malicious; she just liked to make her life sound more interesting than it was. This tended to get her into trouble, but made for excellent bedtime stories!

One unfortunate night, a terrible storm rolled in and caused a flash flood in the forest where Domino and Sonic were occupying. Domino knew Sonic would be able to outrun it, so she urged him to get away and leave her behind. Domino did not survive.

This traumatic event had a huge impact on toddler Sonic and is not only the reason he’s afraid of water, but why he stopped talking for several years when he was little. With time, he forgets this event and even forgets Domino, and he finds his voice again.

[honeyedmiller]

The Hills | Joel Miller

pairing: actor!joel x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: no outbreak!joel, joel miller au, use of marijuana (reader gets high and joel takes a hit), alcohol consumption, enemies to not-so-much-enemies, joel is on his freak shit in this one, smut (fingering, ass play, cum eating, rimming, unprotected piv, spitting, m & f oral receiving, consensual choking and breath play), reader is lowkey a brat but joel is also an ass, joel’s twitchy palm™, two (2) ass slaps, reader is described to be wearing a dress and heels, mentions of usage of cocaine (non-descriptive and it’s neither reader or joel using—just had to add the warning), no use of y/n. if there’s anything that i missed, please lmk.

word count: 6.1k

synopsis: drugs. sex. fame. joel miller—the very man you despise. something about hollywood or other. it all seems to become a blurred line when you get invited to an oscars after party at a house in the hills.

a/n: shoutout to @joelsgreys for keeping eyes on this for me, for beta’ing, for letting me rant about this continuously in our texts, etc etc. ily

Hollywood: the definition of glitz and glamor, celebrities galore, and wild parties.

Right?

Sort of.

You’d been to these afterparties before—chaos, laughter, and drunk or high celebrities every which way. The afterparties that showed the real side of Hollywood’s favorite people. The afterparties where secretive sex ensues in a hidden room tucked in the back of the mansion. The afterparties where people let loose, had fun, and celebrated their wins, or the wins of their friends.

That’s exactly why you were here. This particular multi-million dollar home was chalk-full of familiar famous faces that would get absolutely trashed without the public knowing a single thing about their rendezvous, celebrating each other’s wins.

It was like an unspoken rule amongst all the attendees: what happens at the after party, stays at the after party.

Tess Servopoulos, a well-known actress, was your best friend. She always invited you to the award shows when she could, and made sure you were invited to the afterparties. In this case, it was the after party for The Oscars, where her other best friend was celebrating his wins tonight, taking home three Oscars just hours prior.

And it’s funny, because to you, the devil wasn’t down in Georgia. He was in fucking Los Angeles, California, and his name is Joel Miller.

Arrogant, conceited, and a complete asshole as far as you were concerned. You’d never had a good interaction with the man, always seeming to have targeted hatred toward you for no particular reason.

So you hated him right back.

Because, honestly, who the fuck did he think he was?

You didn’t give two shits if he was an A-lister. Good for him. His arrogance and asshole-ish nature was enough to make you roll your eyes at the mere sight of him. He was one of those people that everybody seemed to absolutely adore, thinking he was doing everyone a solid favor just by being in their presence.

And you think, the fuck does it matter anyway? Your opinion of one man in a room full of elites is about as relevant as a speck of fucking dirt on the bottom of some Louboutins.

You inwardly sighed and drank from the champagne flute that was placed in your hand once you maneuvered your way into the house. Tess dragged you along to say hello to people you’ve met before, and introduced you to those you hadn’t. Most of them were fairly nice, some remembering you from previous parties or recognizing you in god-awful candid shots that paparazzi took of you when you were with Tess.

Tabloids were always a funny thing. There were multiple times where you’d see a photo of yourself in public with Tess, plastered in some stupid celebrity magazine claiming you were her ‘mystery lover.’ Or, there were the times where they’d call you a gold digger; someone who wanted fifteen minutes of fame and all the “luxuries” that came with being acquainted with a celebrity.

You always had a good laugh with Tess about them, and she’d tell you that one day she’d share the story behind you: a college roommate who was her total opposite, but it worked. You were there from the beginning—she’d get casted in parts for commercials, then extras for TV shows, and then bigger roles like a supporting character, and eventually the lead character in many blockbuster hits.

You were her biggest supporter, there for her through her wins and losses. She was truly your platonic soulmate, and you, hers.

You always plastered a smile on your face when making your rounds at these things. Got a little star-struck here and there, but you kept your cool. Celebrities are human beings, after all.

The party was in full swing, people plastered and laughing loudly over the thumping music. Sometimes you thought these parties got a little ridiculous, but you knew this was a rare occasion where these people—faces of the public, under a watchful eye of millions of adoring fans and the scrutinizing media—got the chance to loosen up and be their real selves.

You swirled the champagne around your flute, babysitting the same glass from when you first walked into this party. You leaned against a crisp white wall adorned with what you were sure were very expensive paintings, observing the crowd before you.

The familiarity that drifted through the room was almost unsettling for you. Friends with arms slung over each other’s shoulders, casual and comfortable conversation—and then there was you, who didn’t really know anyone but Tess. She didn’t want to leave your side, but she’d gotten pulled every which way for a conversation and you didn’t want to ride her coattail all night, so you told her you’d get yourself another drink, maybe.

And you were going to, but then the room felt a little too warm. So, naturally, you ventured down another long hallway adorned with paintings and expensive side tables with vases that held fresh flowers that probably cost more than you’d ever see in your lifetime.

Your heels clicked rhythmically against the marble flooring as you made your way to two French double doors that led out to a balcony that was unoccupied.

Perfect.

You opened the doors and sucked in a huge breath of air, admiring the lights gleaming throughout the whole of Los Angeles as far as you could see.

And then you wondered, with every house and apartment and business that was illuminated with a soft yellow light, what each individual occupying these spaces stories were.

People that weren’t famous. People that had regular nine-to-five jobs. People who were desperately trying to make ends meet. People like you, you think.

You loved Tess to death. You’d do anything and everything for her, but Hollywood was secretly a massive headache.

You sighed as you tore your eyes away from the soft lights, opening your clutch to find the joint you brought. Just something to take the edge off and ease the fucking nerves that started coursing through you, unwanted and untimely.

You fished the pre-roll and lighter out of your bag, flicking the lighter on in multiple attempts, but no avail.

You groaned as you kept trying, but the realization that your lighter was done for had swept over you quickly.

“Son of a bitch.” You mutter with a heavy sigh.

“Need a light?” A deep voice asked from behind. A familiar voice. A voice with Southern twang that supposedly charmed every person that was blessed to hear it. A voice you couldn’t fucking stand.

You look over your shoulder to see Joel Miller in the flesh, clad in a crisp white button-down with the top two buttons unbuttoned, exposing his tan chest. The shirt was tucked into some black slacks, accompanied by shiny black shoes.

You hated to admit that he looked good. Real good. But you wouldn’t ever dare to admit that out loud, even with a gun to your head.

“No.” You said, turning back around. His footsteps become closer, and you roll your eyes before you have to restrain yourself from physically shuddering at the proximity between you two.

“Stop bein’ a brat and jus’ take the goddamn light.” Joel rolls his eyes, and you turn to face him. He’s next to you now, leaning against the balcony while holding up a lighter.

You eye him conspicuously, and he looks annoyed as he flicks the lighter on and off. You grit your teeth before slotting the joint between your fingers, bringing it up to your lips.

He easily flicks his lighter on once more, bringing the flame to the end of the joint. The small flame illuminates the space between your bodies, and he looks good with the soft orange glow against his tan skin, you think.

The end of the joint crackles and you inhale deeply, turning your body toward the lights of the city once more.

You blow out the smoke slowly, tilting your head to the side. “Thanks,” You mutter.

“Hm,” He hums, “Would ya look at that. Not that hard to use your manners now, ain’t it?”

“Shut up, Joel. Christ.” You rub your forehead with your thumb, eyebrows pinching together. You came out here for some peace, not to be annoyed and antagonized by the very man you couldn’t stand.

“Hey, I jus’ did ya a favor. No need for that fuckin’ attitude of yours.”

“Jesus fuck, Joel, do you not have anything better to do? Shouldn’t you be fucking one of your whores by now or snorting coke in the bathroom with another beloved A-lister?” You roll your eyes and take another hit.

Joel didn’t like that one bit. He took a step forward, broad body hard to ignore with the heat radiating off of him. Your eyes trail up his chest and to his face, which was contorted with pure anger.

“Who the fuck do you think you are talkin’ to me like that? You’re pissin’ off the wrong person, doll.” Joel’s voice is gruff, full of patience that was smaller than a piece of thread at this point.

“I don’t need to bow down to you just because you’re famous, asshole. You’re the one who’s had the problem with me from the beginning. I only reciprocate the energy I receive, so you can fuck all the way off with the superiority complex you think you have over me.”

“Why the fuck are you here anyway? Hollywood ain’t a place for naïve girls like you.” Joel quirks his harsh brow at you, like he’s challenging you.

Motherfucker.

“And who said I was naïve, cowboy? You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“I know that you’re annoyin’ and don’t fuckin’ belong here. God knows what Tess sees in you as a friend n’ why she keeps invitin’ you to these things.”

Your blood ran hot as you stared at the man in front of you. His jaw was set in a hard line, clenching his teeth every so often in pure annoyance as he looked at you with utter hatred and disgust.

“I may not belong in Hollywood, Miller, but at least my fucking morals are right and I don’t pull bitch moves like abandoning my friends when they need me the most.”

You were infuriated and quite frankly so fucking sick of this man berating you when he should be the last person on this green fucking Earth to talk. It was a low blow, your last comment to him, but what kind of a friend was he to choose a woman he was so pussywhipped over instead of being there for Tess when she was going through a rough time?

It broke your heart to see her so upset that Joel chose another woman he barely knew over her, icing her out when she’d been nothing but a good friend to him. She forgave him, of course, after he’d apologized to her months later.

She had a kinder heart than you would’ve at the situation. You don’t think you could ever forgive somebody for that.

You already thought Joel was an arrogant asshole before that even happened, but that situation was the last nail in the coffin to confirm that he’s exactly the person you thought he was.

“I apologized to her. We’re good now.” Joel’s harsh stare never wavered, but the annoyance in his tone did. He almost sounded…sad.

“Yeah. Whatever.” You roll your eyes, flicking the ash off of the end of the joint before taking another hit. Your mind was already starting to become hazy, and the proximity between you and Joel was starting to make your head spin.

Your gaze flickered up to his face once more, brown eyes still locked on you. You furrow your brows, but before you can speak, Joel plucks the joint from your fingers. He puts the filter up to his lips and deeply inhales, and you frown.

“Get your own recreational drugs, asshole.” You mutter, arms crossing over your chest. Joel’s eyes trail down to your chest before moving back up to yours. A small smirk evades his lips, and he blows the smoke into your face.

“You’re such a fuckin’ brat.”

“Fuck you gonna do? Spank me for not thinking you’re all high and mighty and shit?” The frown is permanent on your face as you assess him, not realizing the impact that your words had on him.

His cock stirred in his slacks at the thought of that.

He stubs out the half-finished joint before handing it back to you. You tuck it away in your purse before looking at him again, carefully studying him.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He’s got a knowing look on his face, and you have to force yourself to feign disgust.

Because, goddammit, you probably would. You’d probably be all over him if he wasn’t such a fucking asshole. The rage you’ve targeted toward him has made you see past his rugged looks and charm, the broadness of him and the veins that protrude from his hands to his forearms and—

You’ve wondered briefly what it’d be like to succumb to it. To be like every single other person who melts for him like lava seeping into the deepest cracks of the Earth. Untouchable. Destructive. And yet, a beautiful aftermath.

“Think I’ll take that as a yes.” His laugh rumbles from deep within his sturdy chest. For a moment he looks so carefree, so light and happy while he laughs. It might’ve been at your own expense, but for the slightest second, you saw through the harsh stares and the hateful demeanor.

“Fuck you, Miller.”

His mouth snapped shut and his harsh gaze settled on you again. His nostrils flared as he glared at you, a heat behind his eyes you’ve never seen before. His palm twitches at his side and he opens his mouth to say something argumentative, but closes it after a second.

Before you know it, he wraps his hand around your forearm, dragging you behind him.

You nearly trip over your heels as you try to keep up with him, wriggling in his strong grasp. He wouldn’t let up.

“Let go of me you asshole!” You seethe, but he pushes you into a room—tucked at the back of the mansion—secluded from everyone else. Oh.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

You quickly realized you were in for it when he shut the door and locked it. Nerves buzzed in your veins and you inhaled a shaky breath.

He looked like he was some sort of predator stalking its prey with the way his eyes scanned your body as he moved around to the other side of the room.

“Real fuckin’ sick of your attitude.” He starts. You scoff at him and throw your arms up.

“Wouldn’t have to deal with it if you just left me the fuck alone in the first place.” You cross your arms over your chest once more, and Joel takes two large strides toward you before he’s standing so close that you can smell the whiskey and weed on his breath.

“N’ that’s the problem, darlin’, I can’t leave you alone. Been wanting to fuck that attitude right outta you since the first day we met.”

You swear your heart drops into your ass. “Wh-what?” Your eyes are wide as he walks forward, forcing you to move backwards until the backs of your knees hit the king-sized bed.

You didn’t even notice there was a bed in the room because the very man before you was insanely distracting.

“You heard me. You’re a brat, baby, n’ brats deserve to be punished.”

You swallow hard as a fire burns behind his eyes, mischievous and daring.

“Joel—”

“Turn around.”

You don’t even think twice before listening to his demand, turning around so you face the bed.

“Can’t hate me that much if you’re an obedient little thing for me, hm?” The amusement was oozing from his Southern drawl.

Your first instinct was to argue with him, but deep down you knew he was right. Maybe all the hatred you had for him had a little bit of desire sprinkled deep down in the depths of your core, unexplored and completely disregarded.

The thought of his hands on you excited you. You saw the way he touched women in the movies he was in. Regardless if it was just acting or not, you always ended up aroused after Tess would force you to watch any movie of his—especially the ones with erotica. She would tease you about not liking him, unknowing of the true abhorrence that stirred in your body. He was her best friend too, so you had to be cordial to him around her for her sake.

You tried to ignore him altogether, but where it got you now—pressed up against the bed as his large hands landed onto your body to tightly grip your hips—didn’t seem to pan out so well.

“Will you let me touch you?” His voice has a rough edge to it, the teasing long gone as he stares at your figure from behind.

“Yes.” You whisper.

He doesn’t say another word as his calloused hands slide around your thighs and to the front of your body. He presses himself against you, and the warmth he radiates off of his body alone makes you sigh.

He’s so sturdy and strong, just as you imagined him to be. You could feel his cock hardening against the plump of your ass, and you wiggle in the slightest to tease him.

He inhales sharply, one hand sliding underneath the hem of your dress while the other hand splayed out onto your stomach.

The skimpy panties you had on did a terrible job at keeping your arousal strictly within the confines of the lace fabric. The apex of your thighs was smeared with the neediness you refused to address, now completely on display for the man it was all for.

Joel’s hand skimmed your inner thighs, chuckling darkly as he traced the outline of your pussy with his thumb through the fabric.

You tried your hardest to hold back a moan, really. You fucking tried. As soon as the sound bubbled in your throat and glided past your lips, you could feel Joel’s smile in victory. He was always playing chess while you were playing checkers.

Well, check fucking mate for him.

“Didn’t know I got ya this excited, baby.” He grips the hem of your panties, sliding them down your legs. You step out of them and he immediately pockets them.

“You wouldn’t be the first.” You mumble, not wanting to feed into his already huge ego.

“Oh I’m sure I’m not,” He starts, breath hot on your neck. “Doesn’t mean I won’t ruin every other fuckin’ man for you. Bend over.”

You clench around nothing at his words, deciding that staying silent is better than digging yourself deeper into your own fucking grave.

You do as he says and bend over the bed, cheek resting against the soft silk sheets.

“‘M gonna fuckin’ make sure I’m all you think about after this. Fuck yourself with your fingers to flashbacks of tonight. Moanin’ my fuckin’ name all alone in your house, wishing I was there to take care of you instead. Fuckin’ brat.”

His words sound like a simultaneous threat and promise, but you just had to say something. You couldn’t let him completely have this without giving him some kind of shit.

“Oh please, I bet I’ll forget as soon as we walk out of this room. You’ve probably got a small dick anyway.”

And you know that isn’t true. He’s huge, and you know he’ll never let you forget about tonight.

A sharp sting blooms onto one of your asscheeks, the sound of him smacking your flesh reverberating off of the walls of the bedroom. You moan at the delicious pain.

“You n’ I both know that ain’t true, doll. Enough with that fuckin’ mouth of yours. Could put it to better use than talkin’ all that shit.”

His hands knead the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart to get a good look at all of you. You almost feel embarrassed, but decide not to get into your head too much about it because all you want him to do is fucking touch you where you need him the most.

Your core was aching. You were almost ready to put your pride aside and fucking beg him to touch you. Almost.

You were about to give in when you heard him shuffle behind you, and you craned your neck to see Joel drop onto his knees behind you.

His eyes locked with yours as he gave you a smirk before leaning forward to bite your ass. You let out a small yelp, and his hand was quick to soothe the pain.

“Gonna fuckin’ set you right once n’ for all.”

And he brings a hand up to your core, sliding his middle and ring finger through your dripping folds. You whimper softly at the sensation, a small flood of relief coursing through your veins. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

Your hips start to rock involuntarily, and Joel tsks at you.

“Greedy fuckin’ whore, aren’t ya? Patience is a virtue, baby.” He chides.

“Goddamnit Joel.” Your voice sounds breathy, even to your own surprise.

Suddenly, Joel slips his two fingers into you, and your hands fly out to grip the sheets beneath you. Your eyebrows furrow together and relish in the feeling of his thick fingers scissoring in and out of your aching cunt.

“So fuckin’ wet already. ‘F I woulda known I did this to ya…” He chuckles, working his fingers in and out of you expertly.

He leans forward and licks up your folds, swirling his tongue around your clit. You can’t help the strangled moan that leaves your mouth, and you can just feel Joel’s cocky ass smirk.

He continues lapping up your arousal, more dripping out around his fingers and down to his wrist. It'd been awhile since anyone touched you like this, so you presume you were extra turned on because of that reason.

You didn’t want to give all the credit to Joel.

His tongue slid up and he removed his fingers from you, replacing them with his tongue as he prodded it into your entrance and fucked you with it.

You were already a moaning mess, like you were on cloud nine with the way he was making you feel. He gripped both of your cheeks and spread them further for his own leisure, tongue dragging upward until it met your asshole.

“Holy fuck, Joel—” You choke out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he swirls his tongue around the tight ring. Your heart is thrumming in your chest and your pussy clenches around nothing.

Joel lowly moaned around you, the vibrations shooting straight up your spine.

You don’t know how long he’s doing this for—your mind is still hazy from the high you’ve been riding, pleasure wrapped around every single inch of your body. You lose track of time and immerse yourself in how he’s making you feel.

Joel pulls himself away from you, sliding both of his fingers back into you. This time, though, he teases your other hole with the tip of his pinky.

“You ever let anyone fuck this pretty ass of yours with their fingers?”

“Please.” Was all you could squeak out, because while you didn’t want to admit you never have, you were willing to give it a go. It was obvious he knew what he was doing, and if you didn’t like the way something felt, you’d just tell him.

He spits onto your asshole before grunting, “Relax.”

And you do. He slides his pinky into your puckered hole, and fuck you feel so full with him like this. He works his three fingers in and out of you slowly at first, each move calculated and precise.

He may’ve been an asshole, but he at least wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

He picks up the pace of his fingers after he’s sure you can handle it, and the feeling of pleasure seizes your body as you shake underneath him.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. You can feel your orgasm rapidly building building building, the coil wound so tight that your stomach constricts in plea of release.

“Fuckfuckfuck, Joel I’m gonna—oh fuck!”

And you’re literally gushing around his fingers. He prolongs your orgasm as long as he can. You think he’s saying things like there you go, that’s it, but you can hardly pay attention over the loud ringing in your ears as you try and come down from your Earth-shattering orgasm.

He slips his fingers out of you slowly, watching your body convulse sporadically from the aftermath of it all.

He grabs your body and flips you around so you’re laying at the edge of the bed. The fluorescent lights are blinding as you try and look at his face. You blink rapidly, chest heaving up and down as you try your damndest to find your bearings once more.

He’s unfastening the button on his slacks, and all you can hear is the rustle of the fabric and the thumping music outside of the locked door.

You wondered briefly if anyone—Tess, specifically—was looking for the two of you. You’d be mortified if she found you like this, but Joel was smart enough to lock the doors.

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even noticed he was pulling down his underwear, so when you looked back at him you gasped when you saw his stiff, aching length. Your hunch was correct—he was huge. His tip was red, smeared with precome and just begging to be taken care of.

If there was any time in your life to impress Joel Miller, now was your chance. You sit up on your knees and lower your head, looking up at him through your lashes, your mouth inches away from his tip.

The muscle in his jaw ticked furiously, brown eyes watching you meticulously. You gave him a small, cocky smirk before you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around his tip, eyes fluttering shut at the salty taste. You use one hand to steady yourself onto the bed, and the other to wrap around his length as you start to pump him slowly.

He inhales sharply, holding back a groan as you undoubtedly start to please him.

You set a steady rhythm between your hand and mouth. The wet sounds are obscene and nearly pornographic. A part of you wishes this was being recorded so you’d have something to watch back when you needed to get yourself off.

Greed is a tragedy, and tragic you were in this moment.

Joel’s hand flies to the back of your head, cradling it as you remove your hand and slide your lips as far down his shaft as your mouth would allow. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat, and as much as you were salivating, you swallowed around him.

The tip of your nose barely made contact with the wiry hairs at the base of his cock, and Joel let out the most guttural groan you’d ever heard.

“Filthy fuckin’ mouth, baby. Goddamn. Knew it could be put to better use than you—ngh—spewin’ that fuckin’ attitude.”

You hum around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. His pants were getting more rapid and he was becoming more vocal, grunting fuck and filthy, filthy girl.

“Shit, yeah, just like that doll. Just. Like. That.” Joel’s voice is hoarse behind his clenched teeth. If you didn’t know any better, he’d probably shatter his teeth with how hard he was clenching them.

And you don’t let up. Not even after a string of curses spills past his lips, and definitely not after he groans so loudly that it vibrates through his whole body as ropes of his come spill down your throat.

You’re in overstimulation territory, and he’s falling apart at the seams.

He pulls your head off of his length as he tries to catch his breath, sweat beading at his temples.

“Fuckin’ christ.” He breathes, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you again.

“Didn’t know I would be so good at that now, did you?” You tease, and the corner of his mouth twitches into a snarl.

“Shut the fuck up.” He says, and you laugh. He grabs your hips suddenly, flipping you around once more so you’re on all fours for him again.

“‘M’keepin’ my promise. Gonna fuck that attitude straight outta your goddamn brain.” His tone is serious, and you’re beginning to think he really isn’t fucking around.

You hear him pump himself a few times and you think about the dangerous threshold you’re about to cross with him. Would you regret it after? Would he?

It was like you were both taking a bite of forbidden fruit, specially picked from the Garden of Eden.

Fuck it. There’s worse things you can do.

“You on any birth control?” He asks, and you nod.

“IUD.”

“Good.” He says before sliding the head of his cock through your folds. Your body jerks when it catches your clit, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

Without another word, Joel pushes into you and you stretch around him deliciously. It’s like your body was begging for him to be inside you at this point.

“Fuuuck.” Joel groans, gripping your hips so tightly they’d probably be bruised by tomorrow.

You bite your lip to keep from screaming, because he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and the sting won’t go away.

“Move, Joel.” You plead, and he smacks your ass once again, making you flutter around his cock.

“Fuck did I say about patience? Christ, woman.”

You shut your eyes as you feel him become fully erect inside you, and you’re seriously going to cry if he doesn’t move soon.

Almost as if he’d read your mind, he started to thrust his hips slowly. It didn’t take long for him to set a pace, though, and he was brutally pistoning in and out of you.

“Fucking…. hate… you.” You spit pathetically, holding onto the sheets for dear life. He laughs dryly behind you, mumbling a sure before going even harder.

Your moans were getting louder and louder, and you truthfully couldn’t give two fucks who heard you at this point.

Fucking let them hear.

“Better hush up now, whole house could probably hear you with how loud you’re bein’.” He scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t give a fuck,” You squeaked out, “Let them.”

“Attagirl,” His laugh was mischievous, pounding into you even faster than before. “Little fuckin’ whore loves takin’ this cock, hm?”

One of his hands moved up your body, causing chills down your spine and goosebumps to raise onto your skin.

His hand wrapped around your throat, and you moaned at the idea of getting choked out while he fucked you from behind.

One of your hands flew up to his, and he was half expecting you to yank it away. He was pleasantly surprised when you clamped your fingers down around his, silently urging him to squeeze.

And he did. You felt like you were fucking floating.

Joel didn’t let up, even when you felt the burning hot coil wind up in your core once again.

“Feel so fucking good– s–o so fucking— fuck.” You’re a blubbering mess. He pulls your body up so your back is facing his front, never letting his pace waver.

“Fucking you dumb on my cock, aren’t I? Listen to you, baby. Pathetic.” He laughs at you once again, but you don’t have any willpower to fight back. You just let it happen, because each thrust of his cock into you has your body turning into complete fucking mush.

“Close.” Is what you whisper, and Joel can feel your walls tightening around him. He chokes on a moan at the sensation, fingers tightening around your throat even more.

You can barely breathe, but you fucking love it. You love seeing stars cloud your vision like this. The heightened sensation of your orgasm comes crashing down over you, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you silently scream out.

Your body convulses continuously as you try to ride out your orgasm, but Joel’s hand leaves your throat and moves down to your clit to rub at it furiously.

You cry out his name, your hands frantic to find purchase to anything as you try and brace yourself.

It’s no use, though. Your body is limp and your soul fucking escaped from you long ago.

“Where do you want me?” The urgency in his voice is evident, but you’re in such a daze that you barely clock it.

“Inside me.” You manage, and he groans loudly before he lets go, filling you up with everything he has. His body slumps over yours, both of you trying so hard to pull yourselves back to reality.

He slides out of you and you both groan at the loss of being one.

You turn over on your back, once again blinded by the lights. Your eyes flutter close as you assess everything that partook the last—thirty? fourty? you don’t fucking know—minutes of your life.

Your body slowly floats back down to reality, and you peel your eyes open when you hear shuffling. Joel is on his knees again, spreading your legs to look at his handiwork. He looks up at you with that same devilish smirk, licking up his spend from your cunt before hovering over you.

He uses his thumb to coax your jaw open, spitting his spend into your mouth.

“Swallow.” He demands, and you do as he says. You open your mouth to show him you did, and a satisfied look washes over his features.

“Hope you feel me leakin’ out of you all goddamn night, sweetheart.”

You look at him incredulously, reality crashing down with the unwavering truth: you and Joel really fucked.

He was inches away from your face, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered what it would be like if he kissed you. His lips looked so soft.

But that would make it too complicated. It would turn into a thing you didn’t need it to be, and you knew kissing him would make the probability of hating him into a fucking zero.

Get a grip.

But, you catch him. You catch his eyes flicker down to your lips, the same thing probably reeling in his mind, too.

Maybe one wouldn’t hurt.

No. You wouldn’t allow it for yourself. He can take his Southern charm and shove it up his ass.

You cleared your throat and moved to stand up. Your legs were shaky at first, but you found your grounding as you walked over to the mirror on the other side of the room.

You straightened out your appearance, making sure you didn’t have “I just got fucked” plastered across your forehead. Once you were satisfied, you turned around to see Joel sitting on the bed.

You nod at him once, “Joel,” and you’re unlocking the door to be rejoined by the thumping music and loud laughter, leaving him to stare at you as you walked away.

You made your way into the backyard, needing a breath of fresh air after everything that ensued.

“There you are! I was looking all over for you.” Tess pulls you into her side, giving your arm a playful squeeze as she holds you close.

“Yeah, I uh, went to smoke a J.” Which, yes, was of course partially true—but you’d probably never admit to her that you just got done getting your brains fucked out by Joel Miller.

She probably wouldn’t even believe you if you told her, anyway.

It didn’t need to become a thing, even if it was the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

Sex you’d probably be having flashbacks about years down the line, just as Joel promised.

You groan inwardly, eyes drifting upward to casually scan the backyard. You caught a familiar pair already staring at you from across the way, and your whole body bloomed with aching heat once more.

Those brown eyes were accompanied with a sickening smirk, and two seconds later, a wink.

You knew no matter how hard you tried, and as much as you fucking despised him, it wouldn’t be easy to get him out of your head.

You were so fucked, you think.

The idea of admitting that you maybe didn’t hate him was unwarranted, but you knew deep down it was your reality. You really didn’t hate him.

And maybe, just maybe, these parties weren’t so bad after all.

tags: @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @punkshort @endlessthxxghts

-

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[goodlucktai]

now the darkness comes alive

rise of the tmnt movie canon divergence word count: 10k characters: raph & leo

welcome to a very self-indulgent roleswap au that i started dreaming up in my friend’s turtle discord. big thank you to rem for the song rec that gave me the insp to finish (and name!) the fic, and also to lake, sara and meeks for enabling my insane behavior <3

oh, now the darkness comes alive it comes for me and i come for you

—brother, the rural alberta advantage

read on ao3

x

The Krang’s spike pierces through plastron and flesh with a sickening crunch and Leo makes an awful punched-out sound. Raph is seconds too slow, and seconds is all it takes for his entire world to end. 

For the past two years, they’ve been at constant odds, Leo going out of his way to undermine and annoy him. Every interaction was laced with frustration, hurt, worry, confusion. Why are you being like this? Raph wanted to ask, wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake until an answer came out. What did I do to you?

It was a miserable way to live. Being angry at someone you love more than anything, having nowhere to put it down, forced to hold onto it and hold onto it and hold onto it. Every day another argument, every night laying awake and hoping that tomorrow would be different. 

He missed Leo. He missed how they used to be. He didn’t know why Pops’ announcement had turned them against each other. He hadn’t thought anything would be able to do that. 

Once or twice Raph had a moment of weakness and imagined what it would be like if he just quit. If he went to Splinter and told him he was done. Let someone else be the oldest, the biggest, the one who carried everyone else. But that thought was always followed instantly by another, louder one—how small would he feel if he didn’t have little turtles climbing on his back and sitting on his shoulders? How empty would his arms be if he didn’t have anyone to carry in them? 

That’s the whole point. That’s why he’s so afraid. That’s why being left alone drives him straight past anxious and into a blackout. He can’t lose them. He can’t lose them. He can’t lose them. 

And now he’s living his worst nightmare. He’s living outside his own body, watching from somewhere else. It doesn’t feel real. 

His little brother, his little Leo, crumpled beneath him, blood staining bright blue an ugly rust color. His chest is heaving as if each breath hurts and his eyes are wide and wet. He’s gazing up at Raph like they’re children again. It’s the way he looked when he was afraid of a thunderstorm or he was about to get in trouble and he needed Raph to make it better. He always looked at Raph first. 

The monsters behind them are laughing. One of them starts talking, the sound coming closer at a leisurely pace. They aren’t safe. Leo is bleeding. Raph is afraid to touch him, shaking hands hovering over his cracked plastron. He doesn’t know what to do. His mind is white with panic. 

He has the escape pod in his hand, not yet activated. He doesn’t know if it’s safe to use it. Leo is skewered to the ground, pinned like a butterfly to corkboard. Donnie’s tech is highly intuitive, all of it programmed into S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s AI infrastructure, and maybe the pod would know to account for the particulars of the situation, but there almost definitely isn’t a way to remove Leo safely in the seconds they don’t really have to work with. 

Leo blinks, and the wetness in his eyes spills out, and Raph just wants to pick him up. Carry him somewhere safe. Leo has always been larger than life, but right now he looks impossibly small. 

“Hey, hey,” Raphael soothes, the same way he has a thousand times before, after bad dreams and skinned knees, “you’re okay. Raph’s here, you’re okay.”

Those gold eyes slide to the side, looking at a point behind Raph. Leo’s arm moves, and something cold and solid presses against Raph’s chest. It’s the key, and Leo’s hand is trembling so hard that Raph’s closes around it instinctively, taking the weight of it from him. 

Because he’s Leo, the corners of his mouth quirk into a smile. 

“I told you,” he says hoarsely. It somehow manages to sound wry, like they’re in on a joke together. “I got it.”

Then he uses the hand that Raph isn’t holding to activate the escape pod lingering between them and pushes it those scant few fatal inches forward. Raph doesn’t realize what the beep means until the pod unfolds in front of him and yanks him unceremoniously away from his brother.

“No,” Raph says, light-headed with fear, “no!” 

But a machine couldn’t possibly understand the wrong it was doing. What it was leaving behind. Raph pummels the inside of the pod hysterically but without his ninpo he can’t do enough to damage something Donnie built specifically to safeguard their family. It lifts him up and away and Leo’s crooked little smile gets smaller and smaller until it’s gone.  

——

When the pod touches down in the lair and releases him, the world around Raph is strangely muffled. There’s a ringing in his ears. He thinks he can hear voices but it’s all just noise. Nothing fully clears the chaos in his own head. 

Donatello is directly in front of him, and his hands are white-knuckled on the side of an empty blue pod. He looks like he already knows something went very wrong. His eyes are bright gold, a mirror of his twin’s, and the quiet fear in them places Raph directly back inside the warehouse, surrounded by monsters, too late to protect anyone, Leo’s blood on his hands, Leo looking up at him— 

Raph’s stomach lurches and he turns sharply away. His gaze lands on Casey Jones instead, who appraises him warily in turn, slim shoulders going stiff beneath the battered Genius Built armor. 

“Leo went back for the key,” Raph says, his voice a deep growling thing that cuts through the noise and brings down a curtain of stillness. He holds the stupid thing out, and if it were made of anything less than strange alien stone, his grip would have crushed it into pieces. Casey’s eyes drop to it and brighten, like it’s a good thing that it’s here even though Leo’s not. Relief floods every inch of his face until he looks even younger than he did already. 

“He got it,” the boy says reverently, taking it in both hands. “I knew he would.”

Raphael wants to scream. He wants to step back and let some other version of himself take the reins while he finds a hole to cry in. He doesn’t want to turn at his father’s firm call of his name or force himself to lift his chin until Splinter can meet his eyes and find all the miserable failure festering inside him, but he does. 

April is looking around and behind Raph, her eyes jumping to the red pod still standing open and then back again, as if finally noticing that Leo wasn’t tucked in there, too. As if it is only just occurring to her that there is a universe that exists where Raphael leaves Leonardo behind, and it’s this one, and it’s horrible. 

Donnie might as well be carved from stone, but Mikey is starting to get worked up, looking between everyone else with huge red eyes, trying to hear the thing they’re all not saying.

“He went back for the key,” Raphael says again, choking the words out. “I couldn’t—I wasn’t fast enough to—”

He clenches his fists and it drags his siblings’ attention to the blood on them. April covers her mouth and Mikey takes in a breath so sharp it must cut and Donnie starts to flap his hands. Splinter closes his eyes, looking as though he’s aged about a hundred years in the last few minutes. 

“What? That’s not possible,” Casey interjects as if he can’t help it. The young soldier glances around the room, like Leo is going to pop up from behind the turnstiles and rib them all for being so gullible. “Master Leonardo is the greatest ninja the world has ever seen, he wouldn’t just—”

“He’s not master anything!” Raph only barely manages not to roar. “He’s a sixteen-year-old kid!”

Casey flinches away from his anger and Raphael brutally wrestles it into submission. It’s not doing any good here. Casey is a kid, too. 

“Raph,” Mikey blurts, too loud and too fast, “is Leo dead?”

The word sucks the air out of the room and Donnie makes a noise like he’s been kicked in the stomach and Raph says, “No. No, Angie, he’s alive.” 

Even though their ninpo is locked away, and with it that subconscious knowledge of each other always lingering comfortably in the back of their minds like a warm afterthought, Raph knows they would know if Leo was gone. They would be able to tell. The world would be fundamentally changed, nothing would ever be the same again. 

He puts his hands on Mikey’s shoulders and adds, “We’re gonna bring him home.” 

The plan isn’t much of one, but their resident schemer is very much not present, and no one questions Raph when he lays it out. Donnie robotically admits that he has the means to track Leo, so the turtles and Future Boy are going to head that way and retrieve him, while Splinter and April babysit the key. 

“Use the shell hogs and just keep moving for now,” Raph says. “They have something we want, we have something they want.”

April nods, grimly understanding. If the only Hail Mary shot they have of getting their brother back is handing over the key and finding an opening to steal it back later, that’s just what they’ll have to do. 

Pops abandoned the Hamato Clan’s teachings in the first place because he didn’t agree with their preachings of self-sacrifice and martyrdom. He handed over the final piece of the dark armor without flinching when his sons’ lives hung in the balance. Even if the rest of their ancestors wouldn’t understand, Raphael does. 

He remembers the jar of oozesquitos he held onto once, trying—and failing—to call Draxum’s bluff. He may be a slow learner, but he only needs to be taught the lesson once. 

Leo risked his life to return this key to his family, so Raph is going to fight for it like an insane person for as long as it makes sense to. But if it comes down to abandoning one to save the other…

He’s his father’s son. He knows which choice he’ll make. 

——

In the Turtle Tank, Mikey and Donnie distract themselves on the trip to Metro Tower station by peppering Casey with questions about the future. The human answers readily, describing Master Donatello’s technological genius—holding out his arms so the entirety of his battered, cyberpunk-style kit is on display—and going on at length about Master Michelangelo’s mystic prowess. 

“I could fly?” Mikey squeaks, drumming his hands on the dash rapidly. “Was it cool?” 

“The coolest,” Casey is quick to agree. “And you opened a portal that sent me through time.”

But the warmth in Casey’s eyes doesn’t last very long, fading into something that looks uncomfortably like grief instead. He tends to look at all of them like that, like he’s in a room full of ghosts. 

He darts a sidelong glance in Raph’s direction and quickly faces forward again, staring out the windshield from Leo’s seat. He’s avoided speaking to him as much as possible, and Raphael can, unfortunately, put two and two together. 

Casey is familiar with everyone else—even April and Splinter—but he dances around Raph as if he’s a stranger. He didn’t know Raph in the future, he knew of him—someone to be respectful of and fall in line for, but certainly not one of the uncles he could brag about to their younger selves. 

When the Tank has gone as far through the tunnels as possible, drawn to a stop at a massive tangle of alien vines, they get out and continue on foot. Raph can feel his little brothers walking as close to him as they can without outright admitting that they’re unnerved, all of their guards completely up, senses dialed to eleven. 

The underground is home to them, always has been, and generally speaking if you’ve seen one subway tunnel you’ve seen them all. But the floodlights from Donnie’s battleshell illuminate a scene that looks like it belongs on another planet. Impossible masses of pink-purple mess dangle everywhere like Halloween store decorations, and the subway cars have been upended off the rails and twisted out of shape. 

Casey’s mask is down, the lenses glowing green as he prowls forward without missing a beat. If he came here from a future where the Krang won, Raph can only imagine what the New York City he grew up in looked like. 

“I hate to be painfully obvious, but since my other half isn’t present, I suppose it falls on my shoulders,” Donatello says after a moment, the sardonic tone of voice at odds with his very low register. “Something feels off.” 

He’s barely got the words out when hundreds of little lights blink at them from the jungle of purple vines—not lights, glowing eyes. The silent tunnel explodes into chaos a second later as they’re ambushed by parasite-controlled people and creatures and even objects. 

Raph and Casey are neatly separated from Donnie and Mikey within a manner of minutes. Raph’s heart is in his throat as he pummels through wave after wave of the infected, and it doesn’t settle until he hears on the comms that his little brothers have taken shelter in the Tank. 

He and Casey are pushed farther and farther away, chased down one of the tunnels by an animated subway car on what looks like spidery crab legs, towards a dead end. When Raphael feels the ground start to give beneath them, he acts on seventeen years of big brother instinct and very little else, seizing Casey around the middle and curling around him completely as they fall. 

It’s a dizzying, topsy-turvy couple of minutes, falling from the subway tracks into a maintenance tunnel underneath, and it takes awhile for his ears to stop ringing. He glances down at the human in his arms and notes with relief that Casey seems to be okay–tucked up small and compact against Raph’s plastron, all limbs accounted for, in such a practiced way that Raph thinks he’s been protected in exactly this manner more than once before. 

Neither of them speak right away, coming down from the rush of adrenaline and waiting for the shifting of crumbled concrete to stop and the dust to clear. Raph’s shell was made of sturdy stuff even before he became a chaotic alchemists’s bioengineering experiment, so when he’s certain they’re relatively safe, he pushes off the ground with his hands and lets the debris roll harmlessly off his back and shoulders. 

“Are you hurt?” Raph asks, sitting back to give Casey room to collect himself. 

“Um, no,” Casey says, tugging his cape down from where it had caught around one of his pauldrons. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, but more like he doesn’t really know what to do with himself now that it’s just the two of them, looking up at Raph and then away again. 

Raph can’t help it. He says, “I died, didn’t I? In the future.”

Casey jerks, as if he was surprised to be asked so plainly. Then his shoulders hunch, and he nods. 

“You all did,” he says haltingly. “Uncle Tello when I was thirteen, and sensei and Uncle Angie just… just before I got sent back.” 

Cold dread slams into Raph’s stomach. He doesn’t want to believe he and his siblings could ever truly be divided, but the proof is sitting in front of him. It’s hard to hear that the end of the world managed to take Raph from his little siblings. Donnie from his twin. That Leo and Mikey were left all alone, with a kid to take care of, and a losing war to fight. 

Casey swallows hard, and curls his hands into fists, visibly forcing himself past the loss that probably sits in his stomach and throat like barbed wire. 

“But you—it happened when I was little. I wasn’t really old enough to remember you.” Each word mincing and careful, he goes on, “Growing up, sensei talked about you all the time. He used to say you were the best—best brother, best leader. And he was so afraid when Master Splinter put him in charge, because he had no idea how to be as good as you. He didn’t want things to change, he was happy being your right-hand man. Sensei made it sound like he was really childish about the whole thing. He said he must have been a real disappointment.”

Raphael absorbs the words like a blow. 

Leo, his little brother, his little star, outshining everyone and pulling the world into his orbit, earnestly giving them the light and warmth they needed to live and grow and flourish, a disappointment?

Raph has been angry with him more times than he can count. Hurt by him, even, because that’s what people tend to do when they don’t understand each other. Frustrated and antagonized and fed-up, sure. But disappointed?

He has a shining, crystalized memory of being a child, no more than eight years old, crying over a picture book because the monster in the book looked like him. It was big and hulking, with dangerous-looking spikes and an alligator tail. Raph hadn’t realized Leo had found him until tiny hands took the book away and a serious little face, not yet grown into its stripes, assessed the situation. 

Even back then, Leo was too clever for his own good. He tossed the book on the floor and said, “They got it wrong. That author must not have ever seen any real monsters if they can mess up that bad. Who let them write a book?”

Raph was hardly able to see through his tears, making a distressed rumble in his chest, but his arms opened automatically. Mikey was in a phase where he had decided he was too big to be carried and Donnie had a hot-and-cold relationship with touch that his siblings all knew to maneuver carefully, but Leo absorbed any and all affection like a hungry little plant soaking up sunlight. He climbed right into Raph’s hug and his arms looped around Raph’s neck and hung on fiercely. 

“My Raphie is a better hero than all those knights and princes and wizards anyway,” Leo had said with conviction so huge it was better suited to someone five times his size. “I have the real deal. I should be the one writing books!”

From then on, Leo vetted any and all shared reading material that made it down to the lair before allowing it to be distributed with a very grown-up gravitas. Some things went straight to Donnie or Mikey’s rooms, or back into the garbage if Leo was feeling vicious about it that day, and no one ever said a word about it. 

About three months ago, April had brought them a bundle of the subscriptions they got mailed to her apartment, and Leo picked up a comic that came for Raph and started to flip through it like they were seven and eight years old again. He caught himself too late and looked embarrassed, sliding it across the counter and quickly making his escape, but Raph felt warm all the way down to his bones. That was proof his Leo was still in there, that he still cared, despite doing his best, for some reason, to convince everyone he didn’t. 

His Leo, who always cared. Who cared too much. 

Casey gives Raph another one of those searching, sideways glances, there and gone again. 

“Sensei said he let you down once and he never wanted to do that again. He said he would live the rest of his life making up for it, making you proud. Is—is this what he was talking about?”

Raph looks at the boy in front of him, Leo’s kid from a future that doesn’t exist yet, wearing tech his Uncle Tello must have meticulously built to outlast everything else, Uncle Angie’s smiley faces etched into the knee guards in a pop of silliness that somehow still existed in the apocalypse, his sensei’s red stripes painted proudly front and center on his mask. He carries his family with him with every step he takes.

It’s no wonder Casey is so cagey around him. If he was raised even in part by Leo, then he was probably raised on stories of Raph that only painted the good and the funny parts of the bad, because that’s how Leo loves. And it left Casey to reconcile how everyone’s hero Raphael could have ever thought poorly of Casey’s hero Leonardo. 

“Sounds like that sensei of yours had no clue what he was talking about half the time,” Raph say gruffly. “Raph may wanna pick up him and rattle him like a snowglobe about a hundred times a day but that’s just the Leo Effect. Ask anybody.” 

Casey blinks up at him, one corner of his mouth giving into a reluctant smile. “Commander O’Neil said that before,” he admits. 

“Now her you can listen to any time of day or night, because she’s never wrong,” Raph says, pushing himself upright and offering Casey a hand up, too. “Leo could never do anything to make me love him less. It kind of seems impossible after a lifetime together, but I actually only keep finding reasons to love him more.”

Sliding his much smaller hand into Raph’s huge one, Casey lets himself be tugged to his feet. He’s gazing up at Raph with wide eyes, tugging on the wrist of one glove absently. 

“Leo is as silly as they come,” Raph says. “He needs practical people like you and me in his life to set him straight.”

All at once, Casey’s face brightens, glowing from the inside out. His spine straightens, shoulders going back. It’s every inch Leo’s expression when he receives honest praise from his family in any direction. And Raph realizes abruptly that at least part of the reason Casey has been so nervous around him is because he doesn’t want to disappoint his father’s hero, either. 

——

They find a maintenance shaft and climb the rest of the way out of the tunnels, regrouping with the whole clan in the Metro Tower station. Donnie brings Leo’s location up on a screen and they all huddle around him—falling silent after a moment as they take in what the tracker is telling them. 

“He’s right—right on top of us,” Donnie says haltingly. “He should be—”

April seizes his arm and he cuts himself off mid-word. With a sense of dread, Raph follows her wide eyes across the room. 

Leo is standing there, watching them. He’s been standing there the whole time. Unmoving, completely silent, and covered in the same squishy, fleshy pink parasitic slime that every other infected they’ve encountered up until now has been manipulated by. There’s a mass of it concealing the lower half of his face like one of the respirators Mikey wears for his spray paint projects, baring dozens of large serrated teeth in a sneer. 

Leo’s eyes are pink, the pupils slitted. If Raph couldn’t see him breathing, he wouldn’t know for sure if he was even alive. 

“Leo?” Mikey calls out in a warbling voice, hands trembling. “Can you hear us?” 

It doesn’t get a reaction. 

Raph takes one slow, careful step towards him.

That gets a reaction. 

Leo explodes into motion so quickly it doesn’t make sense, going from zero to a hundred in seconds. He slams into Raphael with the force of a freight train, sparks flying from where his blades meet the sai Raph only barely manages to throw up in time. 

Their siblings scatter, Donnie yanking Mikey firmly behind him, April putting out an arm to keep Casey back, too. Splinter dives in to help his oldest son, the two of them fighting to subdue but not to injure, hyper-aware of the cracks in Leo’s plastron and the matching wound on his shoulder. The last thing Leo’s father and big brother want to do is hurt him any more. 

Leo doesn’t give them an inch of the same consideration, as cold and methodical as a knife. His swords are fully in action, a very present danger to the rest of them, singing and sweeping with fatal precision. 

They’re only fighting for minutes, even though it feels like hours, when Raphael feels it. An insistent tugging on the front of his mind. He and Leo are locked together, swords caught for a moment in the guards of Raph’s sai, and Raph spares a daring second to look into his possessed brother’s pink eyes. 

They glow white instantly, a successful connection. Leo’s mind pours into Raph’s like a flood. 

Take them take them TAKE THEM TAKE THEM TAKE THEM 

As if moving on autopilot, Raph’s hands fly to Leo’s wrists and wrench—not hard enough to sprain, but hard enough that the slider’s grip flies open and the katana clatter to the ground. Leo rips himself free and darts back to give himself room for the next attack. He makes no move to recover the swords and Raph scoops them up a second later, heart pounding. 

It was so quick, so clean, that no one watching from the outside would be able to guess what had just happened. Leo surrendered his weapons to his family in the only way he possibly could, begging with his whole body to be disarmed before he hurt anyone, so desperate for Raph to hear him that he triggered a mind meld for the first time in two years.  

The room comes alive, infected creatures spilling inside and surrounding them all, punching up through the floor from the tunnels they had just escaped from. A subway car covered in pink slime rears back and roars like a beast. Leo moves through the crowd of Hamato like water. The only one he touches is April, a brush of their shoulders together.

She makes a distressed noise in the back of her throat, hand flying to her bag where the key is. Where it was.  

Leo has it in his hand, facing them with unseeing eyes. The grotesque, fleshy mask covering his mouth twists into a stranger’s ugly smile. 

Raph thinks, No wait. It’s not supposed to happen like this. 

They’re not supposed to lose. 

April uses her bat to knock the rest of the deforestation chemicals toward the Krang, causing an explosion that stalls the hoard of infected just long enough to create an escape route. Donnie scoops Mikey’s shell into his arms and Splinter has to tuck a hand around both Casey and Raphael’s elbows and yank to get them moving. Casey doesn’t make it easy.

He must know a losing fight when he sees one. He must be familiar with this scene from the world he came here from. But he struggles anyway, eyes locked without blinking on the shape of a Leo they’re leaving behind. 

Raph wants to struggle, too. He wants to stay behind and fight until he can’t lift his arms or stay on his feet. He wants his lost little brother to know someone’s fighting for him, that someone will keep fighting for him for as long as it takes. 

But responsibility perches heavy on his shoulders. More than one person is depending on him. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done to let himself be pulled one step away, then another. It hurts more than every single other thing he’s survived. 

“Raph’s coming back for you,” he calls out, voice thick, swords weighing a hundred pounds each in his hands. “Hear me, Leo? Raph’s coming back.”

Leo doesn’t give any impression that he heard. He turns at some silent command and walks away, taking the key with him. The Krang got what they came for. 

——

Kneeling on a rooftop, watching the Technodrome come through a hole in the sky and rain destruction down on their city, Raph finds himself thinking I wish Leo was here. 

It’s a stupid thought to have, because Leo being there would solve a very large part of the whole problem. But specifically, Raph finds himself wishing he had his clever, charming brother at his side, who always knew what to say. Who always had an idea. Who understood exactly how to reach out to people and lift their spirits, rekindle their hope. Leo isn’t the strongest of his brothers, or the fastest without his ninpo, or the smartest next to Donatello, but that doesn’t mean he can’t outshine the rest of them in his own way. 

He’s always been the one they followed, really. It just so happened he was always going the same way Raph was. 

“He was happy being your right-hand man,” Casey said. 

How could Raph have misunderstood him so completely? How could he have just left him behind, twice now? What if it becomes a pattern? What if Leo thinks this is all he can expect from them? 

Raph’s family is arguing behind him, unwilling to accept their failure but unable to see any path ahead to victory. It certainly looks hopeless. New York City is burning, people are screaming, parasites and infected are filling the streets by the dozens. 

A familiar hand lands on his arm. Raph feels like he’s wading chest-deep through mud, but he manages to turn his head and look down into Mikey’s big red eyes. 

“What did Leo say earlier?” Mikey asks in a small voice. “I sort of felt it when you connected but I couldn’t hear either of you.”

“It was like being aware of people talking in another room,” Donnie adds, leaning into Raph from the opposite side. “You can just make out the cadence of their conversation but no words come through clearly.”

Raph looks down at his hands, the katana he’s still holding. He rubs his thumb over the guard on one, remembering Leo’s glowing pride the first time he manifested them. He felt so buoyed by Leo’s smile in that moment that he could have fought the Shredder a hundred times over and won. 

I miss you, he thinks. I miss having you on my team. 

“He wanted me to take these,” Raph says. “He was really scared of what he might do with them.”

Donnie’s golden eyes are very sharp, staring without blinking at the only proof of his twin with them here on the outskirts of the apocalypse. Behind the turtles, Splinter and April are still going back and forth with each other, but Casey’s voice has tapered into silence. 

“What else did he tell you?” Donnie asks abruptly. 

“Nothing,” Raph replies, numb.

“C’mon, Raphie,” Mikey says, mustering a sweet smile for him, even though smiling is probably the last thing in the world he feels like doing. “Our Leo? Keeping it brief? I’ll bet he had a hundred things he was trying to say.”

“Let us in,” Donnie says, pressing his head a little harder into Raph’s arm. Dogged and determined, fully ready to dig in with his teeth and not let up until he gets his way. “Let us see.”

Raphael is exhausted, and hurting, and missing the absent piece of their whole so keenly that he could lay down right here and cry for days. But the one thing he’s never been able to do is deny his little brothers anything they care enough about to ask for this earnestly. 

“Okay,” he says and sets Leo’s swords in front of him carefully. With his hands open, Donnie and Mikey each seize one in both of their own, and Raph tries to center himself. 

The first time Raph and Leo did this, it was well before they had fully realized their ninpo. He doesn’t need the mystic powers they’ve come to rely so much on to recognize the brilliant purple lightning and laughing orange bonfire on the fringes of his mind and let them both in. 

The lightning and the bonfire both skirt familiarly over the steadfast red mountain that makes up their eldest brother, at home together. They all feel the painful absence of a mischievous blue wind so strongly that it takes their collective breath away. 

The mountain guides them to the things the wind had given him. Above everything else, fear—of what’s happened and what hasn’t happened yet, fear of the parasite wriggling inside him, fear of his own two hands, fear of failing his family even more than he already has—

Stop, the bonfire says, burning warm and bright. Focus. 

The lightning strikes forward, knowing the wind better than the rest of them from a lifetime of sharing the same sky. It follows the wind’s twists and turns unerringly, illuminating the way in thunderclaps until it’s possible to break past the dark storm of fear entirely.

Behind it there are a hundred other things. Stubbornness and bitterness, a familiar grit that comes from being on the losing side and refusing to give up anyway. Anxiety that his efforts won’t be enough. Love, as deep and rich and unknowable as an ocean. Regret. Loneliness. Hope. 

Take them, the wind had said in the fleeting seconds it had to say anything at all, shoving as many secrets forward as it could. Take this and this and this and this. 

Leon, you devious little creature, the lightning says, with scorching pride and mean-spirited glee. 

It goes both ways, the bonfire cackles. The Krang can see into Lee’s head, but Lee can see into the Krang’s head, too!

This is it, the mountain realizes. This is how we win.  

——

Galvanized, the Hamatos split up one more time. Casey, April and Splinter to get the key back and keep the Krang occupied, and Raph, Mikey and Donnie to save Leo. 

Once Raph and his brothers are inside the Technodrome, they all understand exactly where to go. Everything the Krang knows about how to operate his ship, Leo knows, through that unwanted window between their minds. And everything Leo knows, he shunted as hard and fast as he could into Raph’s brain, hidden in a tangle of emotion so thick that it went entirely undetected by the parasite riding along. And since Raph shared the knowledge with the other two, Donatello could probably pilot this weird spacecraft blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back.   

Mikey is swinging one of his ‘chucks restlessly, ready for whatever fight comes his way first. He’s already a force to be reckoned with on a good day. He’s a walking natural disaster on a bad one, up there with hurricanes and tornadoes. 

And this is definitely a bad one. It’s the worst day they’ve ever had. 

“Dee’s got the ship and I’ve got Dee,” Mikey says firmly, sounding much older than he did this time yesterday. “You get Leo.”

Raphael moves with ninja stealth and speed, picking his way through the halls. It smells awful, like raw meat left out in the sun, and in the gloom it almost seems as though the walls and floors are squirming. 

From what Leo gave him, Raph knows better than to hope he and his siblings can go undetected for very long. The ship is almost a living organism itself, and can probably feel each step of progress Raph is making toward the bridge. 

It doesn’t slow him down. Every second Leo spends here is a second too long already. 

The maze-like halls open up into a cavernous dome, where a catwalk stretches toward a huge bulbous window. Outside, Raph can see a panoramic view of Manhattan engulfed in fire. It looks like a warzone. The air leaves his lungs in a rush. 

It’s Raph’s city, the place that raised him, and for the first time in his life it’s hard to look at. 

His hindbrain pings to awareness a split-second before he hears the movement of metal against metal, and Raph spins around to look up at General Krang. 

He’s seated in a throne on a dias, a smug, toothy smile on his face. Leo is standing like a statue at his feet, this tiny slip of green and pink and muddied blue. His discolored eyes gaze listlessly forward into nothing. 

Little Leo, who always wanted to be carried. Little Leo, who hunted down each and every opportunity to make his brothers laugh. Little Leo, who wanted so badly to be even just half as important to them as they were to him. Little Leo, who Raph wouldn’t know how to begin to live without. 

“You again,” the Krang says. “Nothing smart to say? This one wouldn’t shut up until I improved him. And here I thought it was just an unfortunate hallmark of your species.”

Raphael sees red at the way the wicked metallic fingertips of the Krang’s armor cage Leo’s head and jostle it carelessly, like he’s nothing but a cheap toy. Raph bares his teeth, a furious rumble in his chest, but doesn’t dare to say a single hateful word while Leo’s life is literally held in the Krang’s hand. 

“You probably would have made a much more impressive puppet, with all that brute strength,” the Krang goes on. “Oh well. All in due time.”

The alien must give a nonverbal order, because he retracts his hand and Leo springs forward. 

He doesn’t have his swords anymore, since they’re strapped to Raph’s shell for the time being, but the pink slime has trailed down his arms and tapered into two sharp points that he wields like knives instead. 

They meet in a ringing clash, Raph catching the pink knives with his sai. 

“I know you’re in there,” Raph says. “I know you don’t want to hurt me. It’s okay, Leo. I’m gonna make it okay.” 

The way Leo fights is vicious. He’s fast and he knows where to hit. There’s no joy in his body, no cocky gleam in his eye. Raph can’t help bu remember the way his mind felt when they connected so briefly earlier—the surround-sound of wailing panic and self-hatred, confined behind a stranger’s cold expression. 

Bearing down on his little brother, forcing him to his knees, Raph chokes out, “I’m not leavin’ you behind this time. I’m not goin’ anywhere without you ever again.”

“Empty promises seem to run in your family,” the Krang sneers. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about,” Raph says through gritted teeth. “Don’t listen to him. Just listen to me.”

“Don’t I? Let’s ask the others, shall we?”

Black vines shoot up from the organic mass that makes up the floor of the bridge. Donnie and Mikey are suspended inside them, fighting like animals—Mikey in particular is using language that there is no way Splinter knows he knows. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice vermin slinking around in my ship?” the General asks. “Is this really the best the three of you can do?”

Leo is scratching and clawing at Raph’s hands, trying to break free of him at any cost. Raph is much bigger and much stronger than he is, and it hurts to hold him down like this, but he knows it would be so much worse to let him go. 

“This whole time, we just weren’t listening to each other,” Raph says, lowering his voice. Everyone else can probably still hear, but he wants Leo to know Raph is talking to him. “Somehow, I convinced myself you didn’t care, when I know better. You care so much it makes the inside of your head a nightmare to live in. The only thing you think about is being good enough for us.”

Leo finally manages to twist free, Raph releasing his arms at the last second when it becomes clear the parasite doesn’t care if its host’s elbow or shoulder gets dislocated. Leo rolls away and comes up on one knee, hand braced beneath him, the other white-knuckled around a knife. 

He can hear the Krang becoming agitated, because Mikey and Donnie refuse to be still. The vines holding them snap and give one after another, faster than they can be replaced. There’s something stirring inside of Raph, too, a fire in his chest that wants to roar to life. 

Leo strikes again. Despite everything, even with all the horrors they’re surrounded by, Raphael wants to smile. 

When they started training together, Leo was the first of the four of them to perfect a technique. Raph lifted him up onto his shoulders in victory and let him crow about it for the better part of an hour, flushed with joy and pride. Since then, Leo has never once landed that particular move wrong. 

An outsider wouldn’t clock that he placed his hand nearly four inches too far to the left, but Raphael knows those four inches made a fatal difference between a bad puncture wound and a severed artery. 

Leo has no true autonomy left but there’s a sliver of him awake behind the wheel. He’s still fighting tooth and nail in there. 

There isn’t any force in the entire goddamn universe prepared for how tricky and stubborn Raph’s little brothers can be. 

“I’m listening now, Leo,” Raph says, alight with how much he loves him. “I’m here. You’re not alone. You’ll never, ever be alone.”

Leo strains forward, dropping the knife and grabbing at Raph’s arm instead. Between one blink and the next, his eyes go from pink to shining gold. 

Raph seizes him, holding his face in the cradle of both hands, his heart soaring around in his chest like a bird. 

“Yes! That’s it! Come on back, big man, Raphie’s got you!”

With a slam, Leo goes to his knees, scrabbling desperately at the fleshy mass on his face. His fingers dig into the slime, but he can’t get a solid enough grasp to tear himself free. His chest is heaving, whole body shaking. He’s fighting so hard but it’s not quite enough. 

And Raph’s ninpo reacts to a sibling in distress the way it did when Raph used it for the first time, breaking past the Krang’s seal like it’s nothing. It surges forward in the shape of a river, finding the familiar place inside of Leo where his connection to their ancestors lives, and making a temporary home there. Raph’s armor limns his brother in rosy red, swelling from underneath his skin in a powerful flood and pushing the parasite out. It loses every inch it had to cling to while Leo continues to pull. 

Finally the worm is ripped completely away, shrieking as it goes, and Leo gasps. He drops the squirming creature and scuttles away from it, gulping in unobstructed air. The corner of his mouth is torn deep and bleeding sluggishly, and his face looks pale and hollow. 

But his eyes are the color they’re supposed to be, and they’re looking right at Raph and seeing him, a connection as meaningful and important as any mind meld.

Because he’s Leo, the first thing he says is, in a croaky, exhausted voice, “Do you have a sword I can borrow?”

Raph barks out a laugh, tears in his eyes. Earlier today he had reached a point where he thought he’d never smile again.

In this moment, he feels like he could hold up the whole sky and grin while he’s doing it. 

Purple and orange spark madly all around them, a lightning storm and a forest fire ready to rain merry hell upon any unfortunate soul in their path, just enough to keep the General busy while Leo finds his footing. 

Raph wants to scoop them all into his arms and carry them someplace safe from all of this, but he knows he can’t. That place doesn’t exist yet. They have to fight for it. 

Leo breathes in deep and lets it go, takes the swords that Raph passes him in hands that don’t shake, and reaches out for his brothers’ light with a light of his own. 

A gale rushes down from the mountain, leading the charge.

“Hey, ugly,” Leo calls out hoarsely, pointing a blade at the Krang. “I’ve been dying to tell you this all day. The decor in here fucking sucks.”

“Oh my god,” Raph says, half despair, half delight. 

Landing beside him, twirling a glowing bo, Donnie stands shoulder to shoulder with his twin and says, “I would cite you ‘time and place’, Nardo, but honestly you have a point.”

“No because it’s so distracting,” Mikey pipes up, dropping weightlessly into a crouch on Raph’s carapace, narrowed eyes glinting in the dim light like a smug cat’s. “Presentation matters! Zero out of ten, would not be held hostage here again.”

“At least it matches the Six Flags Fright Fest he's got going on upstairs.” Leo indicates his own temple with the hilt of one sword. “There’s something to be said for consistency, am I right?”

It’s as much of a hint as it needs to be. The Krang isn’t stupid, which is a big part of the reason why he’s been such a difficult opponent. He understands within the space of a few seconds what Leonardo is saying—what it means for him to have any idea what the Krang’s headspace looks like. This whole time, there has been a subtle, calculative undermining at play right under his nose. 

He clenches those claws into fists that have enough power to bring down skyscrapers. 

“You really don’t know,” the Krang intones ominously, “when to shut your mouth.”

“Says you and everybody else I know,” Leo replies, unflinching and fearless. “Get some new material.”

Raphael gets it now. Maybe he always has. He understands what Splinter was thinking when he looked at Leo, still growing up but ready at sixteen for the beginning of something greater, and decided he should be the one to lead. 

His brothers would follow him anywhere. Raph would walk straight into hell without looking back if that’s where Leo decided to go. 

——

It’s an instant relief to have those singing silver blades back on their side. Leo’s portals open and close with dizzying speed, moving his brothers like chess pieces around a board, somehow keeping track of it all. For a moment, it’s easy to think they might win. 

And then the Krang blows them all away with the flick of his finger. 

Raph thought his world had ended when he was too late to save his brother in the warehouse. Then he realized the world was actually ending in slow stages all around him when he had to leave his brother behind again at the mercy of a monster. 

It turns out the end of the world happens here. On the quiet, abandoned expanse of Staten Island, listening to his little brother’s wrecked voice over the comms say, “Casey, get ready to close the door.”

“I’m ready, sensei!” Casey reports, prompt and reliable. “Tell me when you’re home free!”

There is a split-second of hesitation from Leo—the barest pause, practically nothing—that sends Raph’s heart straight into his throat. Donatello jerks all the way upright from where he was nursing what’s almost definitely a broken wrist, and Mikey goes dangerously still. They heard it, too. 

“Yeah,” Leo says, just barely too late to be believable to the siblings who know him inside and out, “I’ll tell you.”

“Belay that order, Casey,” April cuts in sharply, every inch the Commander she was in another world. “Leonardo, think twice before you lie to me. What’s your play?”

There’s another pause, and Raph can imagine in crystal-clear detail the way Leo’s throat works when he thinks he’s in trouble with their sister, the way he’s probably clenching and unclenching his hands while he wars with that stupid self-inflicted mission to never make himself vulnerable to anyone for anything. 

The little brother need to be liked wins out. Leo admits, “I can’t think of how else to make him stay there.”

The ground falls out from beneath Raph’s feet. 

“No!” Mikey shrieks, fully at his limit of shit he’s willing to deal with. “No no no no!”

“Sensei I can’t just—I won’t just trap you in the Prison Dimension!” Casey says, horrified at what he was almost tricked into. “There has to be another way!”

“We’ve tried everything,” Leo rasps. “I don’t know what else to do. I can’t let him—let him get you. Any of you. I have to stop him while there’s still a chance.”

“It’ll be a real shame if you save the world from the Krang this way, only for me to destroy it myself when I rip the universe apart to drag your sorry self back here,” Donnie bites out. “And I will, Nardo. I swear to every imaginary higher power you can think of, I will.”

“Leonardo,” Splinter says sternly from April’s end, the leaping panic in his tone well-hidden from everyone but his two eldest, “you will not sacrifice yourself for us today even if it means the world ends tomorrow. That is not what our family does. We are taking you home one way or another, Baby Blue.”

If being in trouble with April is bad, being in trouble with Splinter is cataclysmic. Leo is a daddy’s boy through and through. 

He hesitates again, seconds they don’t have to spare inching by, then says, “How?”

Before anyone can answer there’s a ring of metal and a heavy slam, and his line goes silent. Leo is fighting for his life a thousand feet above their heads, but at least he’s fighting. At least he’s willing to wait for help.

He sounded afraid, Raph can’t help but think. He doesn’t want to go, but he will if he has to. 

“I’ll get him down,” Mikey says, planting his feet, ready to move mountains. “I become a badass mystic warrior at some point, right? Might as well be now.”

“Wait, Uncle—Michelangelo,” Casey blurts, self-correcting a beat too late, “you can’t, when you did it last time, you didn’t survive.”

“If future me can open a portal through time and space and send my entire nephew through safe and sound, all by myself,” Mikey says, “then this me can do at least half of that with my brothers here to help.”

“The math is sound,” Donnie says, eyes trained unblinkingly upwards. “We haven’t met a single universal constant that we haven’t been able to turn upside down and inside out just for fun.”

“I’ve got ‘em, Casey,” Raph adds, his heart going out to the kid who stands to lose his whole family all over again if the wind blows the wrong way. “I’m the biggest, big enough to carry everybody if I have to. Nothing bad’s gonna happen while Raph is here.”

“Oh,” the boy says, very soft. “I remember you saying that.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it now!” Leo shouts suddenly, his comm coming back on with a burst of static and a strange ambient whine that must be what the inside of the portal sounds like. “Now, please, now!”

Mikey lights up, a tiny self-made sun of burning, shining gold. He grits his teeth and lifts his hands, trembling under the pressure of the cosmic forces he’s wrestling into submission. Donnie wraps both arms around him and braces his little brother with his entire body, absorbing as much as he can. The feedback is halved instantly, and when Raph steps in and holds them both, it’s reduced even more. 

With a little huff, Mikey works his shoulders, like this is nothing more complicated than the tricky recipe he once found for an eight layer Doberge cake on one of those unreadable walls-of-text baking blogs. If he can figure out that, he can do anything. 

Lightning and fire and rock-solid, steady earth stretch out their hands, reaching past the open gateway and through empty space, searching for the windy blue thing that doesn’t belong in this darkness. 

The wind reaches back eagerly, desperate to be grabbed up and taken home and held forever. 

Inside the Prison Dimension, bright chains flare into existence—some to tangle around the Krang and immobilize him, still more to wrap around Leo’s chest and haul him back through the door while it’s still open, at a reckless, break-neck speed. 

It would have been dangerous for a squishy human, but Leo lands on the surface of the Technodrome in a roll and manages to find his feet. 

“I don’t have a sword,” he blurts, panicked. “I don’t know how to get down.”

Mikey clenches his fists. Ready to open up the portal that killed him in another world, after all, if that’s what it takes to get his big brother down here where he belongs. 

Then Donnie says, “You don’t need to have a sword, dumb-dumb. I have one.” 

It materializes in his hand, a purple construct of one of the matching lightsabers he made for his and Leo’s eleventh birthday. They were very quickly confiscated but Leo laughed like a maniac for the three minutes they had them, and Donnie kept the schematics for a rainy day. 

“Will that work?” Mikey asks, too breathless to sound as terrified as he probably is. 

“It’ll work,” Donnie says shortly. “A sword is a sword. Now’s not the right time to be a snob, Leon. Come here.”

Leo makes a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan and feels for the shared space between them where their ninpo lives, where the mountain and the bonfire and the lightning and the wind all live. Raphael can feel it when that mischievous blue energy finds a brand new rule to bend and decides sure, that sounds fun.  

Runes etch themselves into the handle of the Genius Built lightsaber. 

Raphael shouts, “Casey, now!”

At the same time the looming portal above their heads sends a shockwave over New York City, popping and sparking along the edges like a downed transformer as it shrinks and shrinks until it closes around the Technodrome, a flash of bright cyan heralds the abrupt head-on collision of Leo into Donnie when he swaps places with the sword construct his twin was holding. 

They go down in a haphazard pile of limbs, groaning where they lay on the concrete, and then groaning again when a hundred pounds of little brother gleefully joins the pile with an enthusiastic flop. 

The explosion above them is an afterthought. April and Splinter and Casey are all talking over each other on the comms, frantic for confirmation that they all came out of this alive. That they haven’t lost anything they won’t survive losing. 

“We’re all here!” Mikey says, crowing it to the wide-open, smoke-filled sky. “We won!”

Raph should probably elaborate on that for his dad, sister and nephew’s sake—let them know that everyone’s really okay, describe the little miracles Mikey and Donnie just pulled out of thin air like it was nothing, tell them about Leo trembling like a leaf in the wind but tucked securely into his twin’s side and absorbing the warmth of another living person like it was something he’d always taken for granted before— 

But there’s something else he needs to do first. 

“Noooooooo,” three little turtles protest as their biggest brother rounds out the turtle pile, flattening them to the ground. 

“Tough luck, bozos,” Raph rumbles. “I ain’t lettin’ a single one of you out of my sight ever again.”

Mikey giggles, half-hysterical, a contagious, familiar sound. Donnie shuts his eyes to hear it better. Leo hides his cold face in Raph’s neck and doesn’t say anything else at all. Raph holds them all tight, and imagines a universe where he’s strong enough to never lose them.

Maybe it’s this one. 

——

Casey, who is both medically trained by Leonardo’s future self and entirely immune to the slider’s particular brand of treatment-avoidant bullshit, turns out to be a godsend. Leo uses every trick in the book and still winds up in a bed in the infirmary. 

For someone who craves attention as much as he does, it would make more sense for him to milk a hospital stay for all he’s worth. But it’s always been exactly the opposite, Leo escaping at the first possible opportunity and hiding out somewhere until negotiations are made. 

After all these years, Raph finally has him figured out. 

Leo’s face is still puffy and red where it’s healing, but it’s inevitably going to scar—through the right side of his mouth and down his chin, where the parasite clung the hardest. And for the three days that they’ve been home, Leo ducks his head when anyone looks at him, talking to his hands or his knees instead of to their faces. 

Don’t look at me, Leonardo is screaming with his whole body. Raph doesn’t need a mind meld to hear that, loud and clear. 

Too bad, he thinks, not unkindly. His heart aches as he sits on the side of Leo’s bed and watches his brother tuck his chin immediately. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he says, lifting Leo’s face again in one large hand, gentle and implacable. Leo resists briefly, but gives it up for a bad job when Raph rumbles at him.  

“Don’t,” Leo manages. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Raph challenges. “I missed you.”

Leo’s eyes are downcast and wet, his mouth screwed stubbornly to one side in a manner that probably hurts, given the stitches. Raphael is a professional at outlasting moody little turtles, and he’ll sit here until the next apocalypse if that’s what it takes. 

Eventually, Raph’s patience pays off. Slowly, gingerly, Leo opens his hands. He lets Raph take them and squeeze strength and warmth into them, and clings back for as long as it takes to cobble together the remarkable courage he needs to look his big brother in the eye. 

“I lost the key,” Leo starts damningly.

“You got it back,” Raph says, ignoring the nauseous lurch in his stomach at the memory of the warehouse, Leo pinned to the floor, the escape pod activating and leaving him there alone. His nightmares always start right there these days. “We’re the ones who couldn’t keep hold of it.”

“I almost hurt you,” Leo says, a note of desperation entering his tone. “I almost—”

“You didn’t,” Raph counters firmly. “You have no idea how much more incredible it is that you didn’t.”

“I was so mean.” Tears drip down his face as he finally loses the battle not to cry. “When the Krang was in my head he saw everything and he said—said you must hate me, and he did all of you a favor getting rid of me, and I thought—I thought that makes sense, because I was so mean, and I’m nothing but trouble, and I don’t contribute, and even when dad gave me the chance to step up and be something I still wanted—I just wanted—”

Little Leo, who invented games of make-believe so Raph could feel like a hero. Little Leo, forever finding ways to make recalcitrant Donnie play, pleased as punch every time he pulled it off. Little Leo, who could listen to Mikey ramble for hours without getting bored or short-tempered, his bedroom walls an ever-evolving art collage of his little brother’s best work. Little Leo, who just wanted to be held and held and held. 

Raph lifts Leo into his arms, as easy now as it was when he was three and nine and twelve, and holds him. Leo shakes with how hard he’s crying, even though he’s not really making any noise. His hands scramble to grab onto Raph’s shell and he lets Raph squeeze him into something young and small and hurt and loved. 

As a general concept, Raph disagrees with murder—but he thinks he could make an exception for the monster who forced his way into Leo’s brain and turned it into an echo chamber of all the worst things he had ever thought about himself. 

An eternity alone in the dark with nothing but his failures is as close to justice as they’ll get. It’s kind of poetic, right? is all Mikey will have to say about it when it comes up a week from now, a mean-spirited little smile on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Leo chokes out. “I’m sorry, Raphie. I’ll do—I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll be better, I swear. I’ll never let you down again.”

“He said he would live the rest of his life making up for it, making you proud,” Casey said.

“Blue, this thing you think you gotta make up for—this price you think you gotta pay for existing—it doesn’t exist,” Raph tells him in a tone that brooks no room for argument, barely managing not to grind his teeth together. If anyone else had said anything even half as bad as Leo had said about Leo, he would’ve punched them straight through a wall by now. “You mean more to me than what you contribute to the team. Even if you brought nothing to the table, which is not true, you’d still be stuck with us forever. Non-negotiable. You could be a hateful little brat every single day of your life and I would still take a bullet for you, no questions asked. Are you hearing me?”

“Hearing you,” Leo mutters, knowing better to disagree with that tone.

“All I want from you is you. All I need is my Leo. Whether he’s feeling goofy or annoying or pissed off or scared—I want every shape of him. Every version. Don’t you dare,” Raph adds, punctuating this by a little rattle of the Leo he’s holding, “make me go a single day without him ever again.”

Leo is fully hidden beneath his chin, so there’s no way for Raph to tell what his face is doing. But he hears the little punched-out breath, and feels it a second later when Leo’s white-knuckled grip on his shell loosens, just a bit. No longer convinced he’ll be ripped away for some imaginary offense.

It’ll take more than one conversation to fix everything, but they’ve got more than one. They’ve got a million. They have the whole rest of their lives on each other’s team. 

“I missed you, too,” Leo whispers, like they’re four and five years old again, huddled under the blankets after bedtime and telling each other secrets. 

Back then, monsters were easy to conquer. Nothing scary or sad dared to follow little brothers to Raphie’s room. A warm nest and a turtle pile was the answer to every heartache. 

Some things stay exactly the same, Raph thinks fondly, amused by the way Leo’s already drifting off. He settles in for a nap on his plastron, Leo tucked securely under one arm. He gives it about thirty seconds before Mikey and Donnie stop listening outside the door and sneak inside to complete the pile, and starts the count in his head. 

He makes it to twenty-seven before the mattress gives tellingly beneath two pairs of hands, and he smiles. 

[solid-gold-au]

Killer is a fool

[ipso-faculty]

I, an intersex autistic, want to complain about an autistic flag

This time I'm not complaining about using the white infinity symbol of the Métis. I wanna complain about this flag, made in 2021 by Autistic Empire:

This one upsets me as an intersex person. I get that the designers wanted to make a flag that's different from the neurodiversity flag, and that gold is a common choice for autism (Au = Gold).

The problem it's an icon on a solid golden yellow background, and that is Intersex Flag Territory.

For my perisex readers, these are intersex flags. The one on the left was made in 2013 by Morgan Carpenter so you'll hear people refer to it as the Carpenter flag sometimes:

A common technique in deriving flags for "intersex plus X" is to replace the purple ring with another icon in the same colour. Like these! (Note the intersex autism flag.)

So using the flag logic I'm used to for intersex flags, a rainbow infinity on a solid gold background means.... neurodivergent intersex!

I've talked to a few other intersex people who had the same reaction. It's kind of upsetting - intersex is so frequently invisible and sidelined at the queer table. My *emotional* reaction to the Autistic Empire flag has been "really, we intersex people can't have one thing?". (This is an emotional response not necessarily a rational response.)

Also annoying me is how Autistic Empire presents their 2021 flag on their Autistic Pride Day page beside the history that Autistic Pride Day started in 2005, which apparently gives people the idea that the Autistic Empire flag was created in 2005.

Best I can tell, this was the 2005 flag that Aspies for Freedom created. I know it was a rainbow infinity on a white background but I'm not 100% this was their design. (If you know please let me know!)

These oldest ND/autistic flags I can find with clear provenance are from 2013 and 2016:

The Autistic Empire design was created in 2021 by taking a 2016 neurodiversity infinity symbol design and sticking it on the gold background.

The prospect of solid gold backgrounds taking off as an autistic flag theme is scary to me. I've seen how queer Métis now have to explain that the Métis queer pride flag is not an autistic flag.

In my eyes, it fits into the greater trend of autistic flags being insensitive of other minorities' flags (see: the Metis flag). I think we as a community need to do better about this.

My fellow autistics I beg of you when doing flag designs: - google image search - has your idea already been used? Search the keywords you want before making a mock up - also text search on google and tumblr: <keywords> and <flag> - consult recommendations on how make an infinity symbol that does not look Metis - Wikipedia's list of flags by colour combination - once you have a mockup, return to google image search and this time search using the mockup - if you get feedback that your flag design is too similar to another group's flag, use this feedback. The person who is giving you the feedback might be upset, and if so, try to look past their tone and work past any defensiveness you may feel Edit to add: I'm keeping a list of autistic & ND flags that don't use the Metis infinity nor use a solid gold background here. If you know of more please let me know! <3

💛

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Okay, so in one of the comments that you replied to in your “gold rush AU! Konig”, you stated that she’s heads over heels in love with him, but apparently hasn’t shown/told him yet. And even though he believes that she doesn’t love him, he’s still so in love with her and just wants to make her happy. (That has got to pull at her heartstrings because this odd but kind man simply just loves her.)

Would you be willing to do a next part? Showing that she was just resisting what she knew along and that was that she does love and only wants him. Because although he went about marrying her immediately instead of taking the time to get to know each other and even though he’s from an European background, who is a giant with an accent and working to hit gold to support her financially, he’s still been nothing but kind, loving, and can apparently rock her world in bed! (Basically she was resisting in giving in into admitting she loves him because she had this WHOLE mindset/vision about how it was ALL gonna go down but since it didn’t go the way she thought it would, she was resisting his love for the “fairytale” version she wanted.)

Eventually she finally confesses that she does love him but had to get to that conclusion slowly on her own terms. This of course makes him so happy and he feels so blessed to gain his wife’s love; he once again promises that he will do everything in his powers to ensure she’s happy for all the rest of the days of her life. Which he does because some time later he hits it big in gold which lets him upgrade the “shack” they’re living in to convert it into an actual home for them to spend the rest of their lives together (with future children).

And he asks her of what she wants him to buy for her since he can afford to get it for her, only for her to ask for a new and bigger (so he fits comfortably) reinforced bed; because she wants him to be able to rest properly in a comfortable bed AND she doesn’t want to hear it creak as he plows her into nirvana/heaven. This of course causes him to blue screen but once he reboots his brain, he promises that he’ll get the best bed that will not only support their nightly activities but be very comfortable for both of them.

It’s only once they get the new bed and use/“break it in”/“christen” it for the first time does he finally gets her pregnant on that first night.

Oh, your writings are just so good! 😊

Oh I love the bed scenario and König wanting to spoil her and the story about how he got her pregnant for the first time (you can’t tell me these two won’t have a small flock of annoying little kids running around eventually) so much! 😭💞

And I actually wrote a little something for this because people were putting me in jail for the roaring angst of the 1st part so here’s how these silly pookies got to their happily ever after:

Our pompous little mail order bride is, in fact, so in love with König that it’s not even funny.

It's so bad that she looks out the window and sighs as she waits for him to come home... Scoots away the minute she catches him in the horizon, of course. She has better things to do than wait by the window sill like some wanton prostitute!

She whimpers like one, however, when the door slams shut and her husband comes to grope her from behind, telling her he wants to take her on the table (there’s food there and they were supposed to eat first, what a horrible man!) Not to talk of getting wet just from the sight of him looming over her, she has no objections with getting spread on the sturdy planks for taking. She should probably be thankful that the dinner table is made of solid wood and is not some delicate piece hauled here from Europe because it could never take the brute force of König’s advances...

After they're both sated and done, he dares to dip his finger in one of the cast iron pots filled to the brim with stew. Has a taste while still inside her, only chuckles to himself when she furrows her brows from how uncivilised he is. What kind of a man barges in his home like a burglar, takes his wife on the table, then tastes the hearty stew like it’s only normal for a man to be hungry after plowing his lady until they're both shaking? Even the bed is about to break at night, these pieces of furniture have done nothing wrong to this man and yet he treats them like they're nothing but disposable bits of wood.

His lack of manners never ceases to astonish her; he even tries to give her a taste of the food too, and laughs when she pushes him away and straightens her skirts, how is she supposed to walk around with his seed running down her thighs? All the pretty things he got her from town are in need of a wash already, but she still hums a soft happy tune while looking at her reflection in the mirror, donning the pretty hat he just brought her along with coffee and flour. (She thinks he can’t hear or see her being visibly happy, but König takes mental notes every time her eyes shine a little brighter from his gifts. She's not lacking anything, that's for sure, and isn’t it nice that he remembered how she looked at that silly little hat when they walked by her favorite store…? Anything his princess wants, she shall have!)

Years and years of lonely digging in this harsh land far away from home have made her husband think that no woman could ever want him unless he buys their love, and she does enjoy the pretty little frills he brings her as offerings. But what would kill her is if he knew she had actual feelings for him… This was supposed to be an arrangement, a marriage between two adults, not a romantic passionate affair! That sort of thing only happens in books, that's the first thing she learned when she came here.

He should have courted her properly first, but now it's all ruined, there's no excitement and intensity... Except that her heart is always hammering in her chest, she feels like a trapped bird flitting inside her corset. She's always flustered when he goes under her skirts, her chest is about to collapse in on itself when she sees him flash a smile her way, carry her more silk and demurely apologize that the wrappings are dirty because of his hands, kiss her neck after copulation like it's the holiest place on earth...

And God Almighty, what would this man think of her if she confessed her love to him? He would probably laugh and think she’s a harlot who’s in desperate need of his cock, that she's indecent and impure…

Luckily, the brute is so stupid that he doesn’t see the way his little princess–as he now calls her–looks up at him when he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. She’s relatively sure he doesn’t notice the tiny gasps just before she comes, the helpless, adoring stares she shoots at him right after, because that glassy, worshipping stare of his own is only born of lust, that’s for sure.

He can’t see her figure flash in the window when he’s walking towards home, she’s made sure of that…

Or has she?

The man is dumb, but he’s not a total simpleton, even if his eternal sadness is slowly turning into a teasing, an even hungrier form of love. She fears he will simply devour her one of these days if he knew how deeply in love with him she is as well...

And she fears herself even more than she fears him. Didn’t the priest warn about exactly this kind of simple-minded, wanton lust in his last sermon? She was always taught that marriage is supposed to be about companionship and genial living together, not about sweaty, toe curling, mind numbing copulation.

They’re fornicating like animals in the little shack she has grown so fond of, shy to the changes he’s talking about every day since he struck some large gold vein. He openly fantasizes about getting them a large house, a small manor, even, and she knows it’s all just for her because this man is content with very little… So little, that he accepts any small crumb of affection she gives him like it’s an entire rain of manna from heaven.

And it’s only because she’s ashamed that she can’t show her true feelings for him. The gentlemen of the city now feel like fancy peacocks compared to this burly man who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty and his dick wet. Those men look delicate and boring and ridiculous next to the hairy giant who’s forearms she stares in the evenings like they’re her own personal cancan show.

It’s crazy, how she looks at him like he’s nothing but a piece of meat – are women even supposed to feel this way? She should say her prayers, because her foreign husband looks like a god while sharpening his ax by the fire, with slow, deliberate movements, the trembling hands finding a smooth, strong dance only when they’re wielding a pickaxe or a whetstone or a knife.

He catches her staring once, her frightful stare big and helpless in the flickering flames, and he gives her a sad, longing smile in return.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he gruffs softly. “Ich weiss… I know I should shave...”

Her head gives an involuntary shake, minimal and shy, because she doesn’t want him to shave. She adores that coarse stubble that leaves her skin red and irritated, she loves how he looks when he has so much going on in his life that he doesn’t have time to groom himself.

“No…?” He asks hesitantly, straightening a little on the chair that’s really only a piece of log. “You like it like this...?”

She nods. Shyly again, and just once, while her eyes drift on his lips.

It’s intimate, how the silence envelops them with both tension and grace. It’s all she can give right now, and he knows it, knows also that this whole exchange is basically a love confession. Her affection, her want, her dedication and surrender soar and swell all at once, and he can see it... All of it.

He rises, and abandons the ax, his softening stare never leaving hers. He walks to her like a gentleman, like he's Mr. Rochester himself, like she was Ms. Eyre – although she doesn’t want to be Jane Eyre and she doesn’t want him to be a dark, handsome gentleman. She wants him to be just as he is, the stranger from the North who works hard and loves even harder, who picks her up like she’s an angel and not a lady.

“Let’s get you to bed, hmm?”

His gaze is so soft, it’s starting to relax into some knowledge she has in her foolishness betrayed.

But it’s alright… Everything’s just as it should be.

She wraps her hands around his neck and whispers, “Yes,” and the smile that tugs at his lips finally melts into one of those I knew it smiles he sometimes wears when he brings her something nice from the town.

He doesn’t push her to reveal more information about how much she loves his stubble, but he does make her scream it out into the warm cottage air as he goes down between her legs. She doesn’t want to know what the local priest would say about this: a man making his mark on the insides of her thighs with that scraping beard, how he makes her core throb with his ever-hungry mouth. She doesn’t even care.

It’s a paradise and an inferno, where he’s sending her to, and who knew a brutish digger from some distant land could suddenly be so eloquent with his tongue? Who knew a man could do things like these to a woman...? Who knew married life could be like this?

“You liked that, didn’t you, princess,” he asks when he’s done with her, and holds her surprisingly gentle when she’s still shaking and squirming softly on the bed. Not God, not even the Devil, could cloud the full blown affection in her eyes. She’s in love – it’s not just lust, but love she feels for this man, and she feels like a fool for not recognizing she had gold in her hands all along.

“Yes,” she says, then smiles, then laughs, because it’s fairly obvious that she can’t speak those words even if she wanted to. He wrecked her so completely...

“I told you I’d make you happy, Sonnenschein.”

He smiles a little, looks down at her like she’s nothing but a baby who finally stopped her eternal crying.

“Oh I’m more than happy,” she says, this time tears clouding her vision, happy tears born from being free from years of imprisonment. He doesn’t strike her as the kind of man who cries, but there’s a faint glow in his eyes as well, a shimmer that both takes her in and pulls her under. This is something they don’t talk about in church... This is a thing they never write about in books.

She lays her hand on him, on the coarse cheek that is now slightly wet from a single tear.

“You’re crying,” she whispers, because her voice wouldn’t carry the weight of her words at this point.

“Ja…? Well... I’m happy too,” he explains, with a shortness of breath and a confusion to his voice.

He blinks the rest of it away, but the sweet moment stays, lingers on until she draws him into a kiss – another thing they never talk about in novels, a woman kissing a man – and she tastes both him and her on his lips, how well he loved her, and when he moans slightly from her reciprocating that love, she holds him closer, closer, closer… Until he shivers too.

[saythenametotheworld]

Risk | l.jn [1]

Genre: college au; crush-at-first-sight Synopsis: Firmly convinced that Love-at-First-Sight is a hoax, you never expected to be proven wrong when the universe decided to throw you, quite literally, into Lee Jeno's lap. Pairing: NCT Lee Jeno x Reader Warnings: slow burn—I know, classic Cali work. Notes: Can I interest you with another two-part fic that's also a slow burn? No? Alright. Here's the first 14.7k words! Song prompt was Risk by Gracie Abrams <3 (btw i did not proofread this)

[Part 2]

You first met Jeno Lee on a particularly cool autumn afternoon. The kind of day where the wind carried a crispness that hinted at the coming winter, and the leaves crunched underfoot in vibrant shades of red, orange, and gold. The public library—where you spent most of the school break had always been quiet, but today, it was more silent than usual, the heavy wooden doors muffling the outside world’s chill.

You found yourself in the farthest corner of the library, where the oldest books resided, their spines faded and worn from years of eager hands. You stepped onto a ladder, reaching for a book that had been buried on the highest shelf, just out of reach. The book wasn’t anything special, except for the pretty spine and an interesting title that piqued your curiosity.

Your fingertips brushed the spine, but as you tried to pull it free, it resisted. Frowning, you gave it a stronger tug, unaware that on the other side of the shelf, someone else had their fingers wrapped around the very same book.

Thinking it was simply stuck in the array, you tried again, exerting all of your strength on one last tug. The book suddenly gave way, sending you off balance. Your heart leaped into your throat as you toppled backward, the ladder slipping beneath your feet. You had just enough time to gasp before you felt yourself falling, bracing for the cold, hard floor to meet you.

But instead of hitting the ground, you landed in something warm and solid. Strong arms caught you, holding you securely as you blinked up in surprise, your breath coming in short.

And that’s when you saw him.

It felt like the world had shifted into a dreamy haze—one of those cinematic moments when time slows down as the female lead and her love interest lock eyes for the first time. The world seemed to blur around you, blocking out everything and everyone, and sweet background music was playing in your head. 

His eyes were the first thing you noticed—deep and warm, dark brown in color, flecked with gold that seemed to catch the light in just the right way. His dark hair fell in soft waves across his forehead, slightly tousled, as if he’d just run his fingers through it. His jawline was sharp, but softened by the slight smile that curved his lips as he looked down at you.

He was effortlessly handsome, in the kind of way that made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip all at once. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice warm and soothing, with a hint of genuine concern.

“Huh?” you questioned, your own voice sounding like a switch that abruptly snapped you back to reality. The dreamy haze dissipated, and you were left with the stark, embarrassing reality of the moment. You realized you were still cradled in his arms, your hands resting against his chest. Your face flushed as you scrambled to get down, muttering apologies.

“Woah, careful,” he said as he gently set you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your arms for just a second longer than necessary. 

“I’m sorry about that,” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. “The uh… the book! It was stuck.”

“Yeah, you almost got hurt there,” he smiled, a slow, genuine smile that made your heart flutter.

You glanced down at the book he was holding—the one you’d been reaching for, and then back up at him, a blush creeping into your cheeks. “Thanks. For catching me. And for this.”

He chuckled softly, and the sound was like music, smooth and easy. “No problem. I just happened to pass by.”

“Well, lucky me,” you replied, chuckling bashfully. For a moment, you both stood there, the library around you fading into the background. There was something in his gaze, a spark of recognition that made you feel like you knew each other, even though this was the first time you’d met. 

Is this the part where you tell him your name? Maybe not? Shouldn’t he be asking for yours?

“Right. See you around then,” he said while you were busy thinking to yourself. Before you could gather your wits to say anything back, he gave you an acknowledging nod and walked away.

You stood there, dumbfounded, watching him go. It wasn’t until he disappeared around the corner that you realized you should have asked for his name. Your heart was racing, and you were feeling a mix of gratitude and something else, something that made your cheeks warm and your thoughts scatter.

You kept wondering who he was, where he was from, and if he lived in town. His image haunted your thoughts, making it hard to focus on anything else. At night, you lay in bed, replaying the scene, his warm eyes and gentle smile etched into your memory.

Who was he? And why did your heart feel like it was doing somersaults? Clearly, you should know by now what that means: you have a huge, massive, gigantic crush on this guy. And you don’t even know his name yet!

Funnily enough, you never saw him again after that. In the remaining days of your break, you frequented the library, asked your friends about him, and even went on night outs hoping he’d show up. But you had no luck. Was it really possible not to see each other again after that day? Maybe he didn’t live there. Your town was small, the kind of place where everyone knows everybody. There was no way you wouldn’t have known if someone like that lived nearby. Maybe he was just passing through.

That was probably it. As you traveled back to the city for the start of the semester, you knew you would never see him again. It might be easier to think he didn’t exist at all. It was a little frustrating, but you decided to let it go.

Yet it seemed like the universe wasn’t ready for you to let it all go.

On one particularly cold and rainy afternoon, you stood outside a diner in the city, frantically waving your hand at a taxi cab. Your umbrella might have been keeping your head dry, but the strong gusts of wind blew tiny drops of rain all over your jeans and boots. After several occupied taxis passed by, seeing one finally pull over in front of you almost made you cry with joy.

“Apartment X on 46th Street, please,” you told the driver as soon as you slid inside, barely managing to close the door behind you. You sighed in relief, your heart slowing down as the warm air of the cab wrapped around you.

But just as you were about to settle in, the door was suddenly yanked open. Startled, you glanced back, and your breath caught in your throat.

A man peeked his head into the cab, his messy hair plastered to his forehead, drenched from the rain. But despite his soaked appearance, that smile was unmistakable—a smile you easily recognized even after all this time. The rain pounded against the cab roof, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat, echoing in your ears.

Jeno’s smile widened as he took in your surprised expression. “Sorry to barge in like this, but it’s pouring out here. Mind if I share the cab with you?”

“Sure,” you said softly, audible enough for him to slide into the seat next to you. You caught a whiff of his perfume—fresh, woodsy, intoxicating. Instinct made you scoot over slightly, trying to make room without seeming too eager.

The cab started moving, and silence filled the space between you. You could feel your pulse quicken as you stole glances at him, but he seemed oblivious, focused instead on his phone. He looked just as handsome as you remembered—maybe even more so—though it had only been a few months since you last saw him. Somehow, it felt like you were seeing him for the first time. And there was something in his demeanor that sent a sinking feeling to your stomach.

He didn’t remember you.

You were sure of it now. The way he had smiled, the casual politeness in his tone, all pointed to a simple truth—you were just another stranger sharing a cab on a rainy day.

You knew you should say something—anything. Start some small talk, maybe a simple “hi.” Would that be weird? It shouldn’t be, right? You’re sharing a space, after all, and a small one at that. You could remind him of the time he caught you in his arms like you were in a rom-com flick or something.

Making friends had always been easy for you, but with him, every conversation starter seemed silly or wrong, and the fear of making a bad impression held you back. What if he thought you were odd for remembering? What if he didn’t care?

Then again, how could you possibly form a deeper connection with him if you wouldn’t even talk to him? Was he really so attractive to leave you dumbfounded each time? You took a peek to confirm and ended up meeting his gaze when you glanced at each other at the same time. You smiled meekly before quietly looking away.

The answer was simply a ‘yes’.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the taxi driver’s voice. “Where to, young man?” he asked, glancing back at Jeno.

Jeno appeared to think for a second. “Is the road to NCIT still inaccessible?”

Your ears perked up at the mention of your university. Did he go there too?

“I don’t think so,” the driver replied, shaking his head slightly. “But I’ll try to get as close as possible. Taco Bell near the intersection alright with you?”

“That would be good, thanks.”

Your mind raced with questions. Does he go to NCIT too? You could ask him about it, maybe bring up the sinkhole that had appeared on the road near campus a few days ago. But once again, your nerves got the better of you. All you could do was scroll through your phone, pretending to be engrossed in social media as you tried not to gawk at him.

The cab came to a stop sooner than you expected. You noticed Jeno shifting beside you, preparing to get out.

“Thanks a lot,” he told the driver, handing over his fare. Then, to your surprise, he turned to you with a warm smile. “Thanks to you too. Stay warm.”

And just like that, he was gone. The door clicked shut, and you were left in the backseat, feeling mild annoyance and disappointment. You stared at the space where he had just been, your thoughts swirling with frustration.

Seriously? You thought to yourself, trying to keep the frustration from bubbling over. You’d let him slip away without saying anything. Ugh, how could you be so awkward? A tiny part of you wanted to throw a little tantrum and scold yourself at the same time.

As the cab started moving again, you slumped back in the seat, watching the rain streak down the windows. It was a little bit of a letdown, but you sighed and shook your head, deciding to laugh it off. He was just a fleeting, unexpected moment in your otherwise uneventful day. A quick ray of sunshine, maybe.

In itself, it was a relief to know that he was in the same city. Hunting him down should be easy. For now, you’d just have to let this go and move on.

“No, you’re not—” Sienna gestured quote marks in the air. “—‘hunting him down’, whatever that means.

“Why not?” you whined, slumping back on your bed.

Your flatmate sighed in exasperation, crossing her hands over her chest as she stared you down. “It’s weird and stalkerish. Get to know him like a normal human being.”

You had told her about Jeno, from the first encounter with him back in your hometown to the cab ride with him earlier that day. “That’s the thing. I can’t because I don’t know him at all. I don’t even have his name,” you told her.

“Yes, and you’re an idiot for that,” she chastised, sitting next to you on the bed. 

You groaned, narrowing your eyes at the ceiling. “You are absolutely correct,” you said, shutting your eyes as you flail your hands in the air.

“Let it go. If he does go to NCIT, then you’ll see him again and you’ll talk to him like a proper girl,” said Sienna, tapping the space between your eyebrows.

Normally, if something like that happened to you, you would just let it go. Not that it has happened before, but if it did, you would just let it go. Not this one. You can’t. Somehow, you were convinced that you crossed paths with him for a reason.

So, against Sienna’s advice, you hunted him down. It was outside a diner where you met him again, and he got off near your university. Assuming you were around the same age, he most probably went to NCIT too.

“If he was, you would’ve met him already,” said Sienna, alluding to your congenial personality and tendency to befriend just anyone.

“That’s the thing! I do not know him, so he’s probably a new student. If he isn’t, then he’s probably from the Sci-Tech building,” you told her.

“Sci-Tech? Why Sci-Tech?”

You looked at her like the answer to her question should be obvious enough. “Because I don’t go there.”

Sienna snorted. “Your deduction skills are spot on,” she said sarcastically.

There was only one place in uni that you never frequented, the Science and Technology building. It was because you had no reason to go there. That building was for NCIT’s specialized programs, which were programs in Natural Sciences and Technology. It housed departments like Engineering and Mathematics, Biology, Computer Sciences, and the like. As a Foreign Languages student, you have everything you need and everywhere you have to be in both the Arts and Social Sciences building. There was no reason to go elsewhere. But that might change if your suspicion turns out to be right.

So as soon as Monday rolled in, you headed to the said building with one goal in mind—to see if your mystery man was there. The halls weren’t entirely unfamiliar; you’d seen them before during your freshman tour of the campus. But the faces were new, unfamiliar, and you found yourself smiling at those you recognized.

The task was simple—look around, find out if Jeno’s there, get to know him, and done. If you happened to bump into your friends from this building, you’d tell them you were looking for them. No way were you going to let anyone know you were on a “hunt” for a boy.

“Are you lost?” said a guy’s voice from behind you.

You sighed and rolled your eyes before turning to face him. Smiling, you said, “I was just looking for you, Renjun.”

Renjun cocked an eyebrow at you. “Why? What did you do?”

You clutched your chest, pretending to be offended. “Nothing? I just came to see you. Lunch is on me today.”

His face softened but he still scoffed. “Why didn’t you just text me instead of coming all the way here?”

“I had to remind you because you’re old and forgetful,” you joked, falling into step beside him as he started walking.

“I’m not old and forgetful,” he muttered, though you just giggled, clinging onto his arm. 

Your eyes scanned the halls, peeking into classrooms, but there was no sign of Jeno so far. Meanwhile, Renjun was complaining about Haechan and Yangyang spreading the flu virus all weekend.

“Thank God they’re okay now,” he grumbled. “I can’t last another day babying those grownups.”

“Why don’t you kick them out?” you said absentmindedly.

Renjun hummed as if seriously considering the idea. “I would if I could pay all 1500 by myself. Even the rent is annoyingly expensive.”

“Then why not move to the on-campus dorm?” you suggested, though you knew he was just complaining for the sake of it.

“It sucks.”

Just as you rounded the corner to the stairs, you spotted Jeno in the crowd. You gasped softly, your heart doing a little flip. There he was, just as handsome as he had been last weekend. You were right, after all—he really was from this building.

You watched him from a distance, talking animatedly to a few other students in front of an open classroom. You couldn’t help but stare, your heart doing a little flip as you took in his easy smile and the way he casually leaned against the doorway like he belonged there—like he belonged everywhere. Nothing of note could be said about his good looks, except that he continued to be as handsome as he did last weekend. He laughed along with the rest of his classmates, eyes crinkling cutely.

“What are you staring at?” Renjun asked, following your gaze. “Ah, I knew you had ulterior motives for coming here. Which one is it? Hyunjin? Jeno? Soobin?”

You glanced back at Renjun, grinning from ear to ear. “Which one is Soobin?”

He scoffed. “You came all the way here and you don’t even know his name?”

“I know Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head. You pointed at the guy in the grey hoodie. “That one. Is that Soobin?”

“That’s Jeno Lee.”

You gasped, covering your mouth in mock shock. “His name is Jeno? Oh my god! It suits him so well.”

“And? Did you come here for him?” Renjun asked, raising an eyebrow as he peered at Jeno and his group. “Should I call him over?”

“No!” you exclaimed, quickly tugging him back. “Do you two know each other?”

He nodded. “Yeah, he’s Jaemin’s friend from high school.”

At this point, your smile was probably blinding Renjun with how bright it was. But before you could pester him for more details, he slipped away with a quick wave, escaping to his classes.

Information was easy to obtain from your friends. Barely a day had passed but you have learned all the important things you needed to learn about him. He was new at the university, having enrolled here only last semester. Four months ago, he was dating this cute girl from Biology but they broke up only a month later. No one knew why, but they did break up. He used to play basketball and still does. He’s an Electronic Engineering student and is said to be very intelligent. You also found out that he currently shares an apartment with Jaemin and Mark.

That night, you lay on your bed, phone in hand, scrolling through his profile. He was active on it, posting mostly about his workouts in his Stories and getting tagged in posts by friends. He played basketball for his previous school and based on the posts and comments from his friends, he was great at it. There were pictures of him with his team, others mid-game, looking focused and determined. There were also pictures of him just hanging out with lots of different people; some faces were recurring, but it was mostly different people.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was how all crushes felt—silly and intense all at once, like a tiny spark that refused to fizzle out.

“I wonder if he’s as nice as he seems,” you thought, your heart fluttering as you looked at a photo of him laughing with his friends. His smile was the same one that had made your heart skip a beat the first time you saw it.

You tapped on the profiles of his friends, searching for clues about Jeno’s life. It was easy to tell which ones were close to him, and which ones weren’t. You even scrolled through the profiles of girls who seemed too close to him in pictures, hoping he wasn’t dating any of them. Based on your little “research”, he is single right now with plenty of admirers commenting on his photos.

You noted every detail, hoping to find common interests. His love for basketball intrigued you, and maybe you could strike up a conversation about it if you ever got the chance. Well, that is if you even knew a thing about basketball. You weren’t a big fan of the sport, but you would be if it was Jeno playing. If he was on your school’s basketball team, you would have joined the cheer squad. You didn’t have the skill for it, but you would have tried nonetheless.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you let your imagination run wild. You closed your eyes, allowing the faint light from your phone to fade into the darkness of your room. Images of Jeno’s smile and the sound of his voice played in your mind like a cherished memory. The idea of seeing him again made your heart swell with excitement, looking forward to the next few days.

Then, realizing how far down the rabbit hole of your crush you’d fallen, you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. “Get it together,” you murmured, shaking your head with a grin. But even as you tried to reel yourself in, the excitement of possibly seeing him again was too much to suppress.

There was no denying it now. You told your girlfriends that you had fallen in love with Jeno Lee from the Sci-Tech building.

“It was love at first sight. I just know it,” you said dreamily, twirling in front of the mirror.

Kayla raised an eyebrow. “You said love at first sight is a scam.”

“I know what I said,” you sighed, knowing she was right. You were a skeptic when it came to love at first sight. Sure, you liked romance and were a massive fan of romcoms. But love at first sight in real life? Total BS. “Obviously, I was wrong. I have to admit that now,” you added, a mixture of disbelief and excitement swirling within you. Part of you still couldn’t believe how quickly your feelings had changed.

Kayla and Sienna exchanged glances. Sienna smirked, her tone playful as she asked, “Are you sure you weren’t just blinded by his looks? That can happen to some.”

“Well… He did look handsome, but I’m sure it was more than just that.” You walked back to your dresser, sporting a reminiscent smile. “I know it sounds crazy, but there was just something about him. I can’t explain it. It’s like… like he was meant to be there.”

Kayla rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her grin. “Next thing you know, you’ll be writing love letters and doodling his name in your notebook.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but a part of you couldn’t deny it. Maybe you would. “Hey, if it comes to that, don’t judge me,” you said, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Yo! I have arrived!” came Haechan’s voice from outside your bedroom door, followed by heavy knocks. “Come on, come out now before I change my mind and leave your asses.”

You opened the door and raised an eyebrow at him, leaning on the doorframe as you sized him up. “First of all, the car isn’t yours. Second, how dare you bring your shoes in here.”

“Move. I’m not here for your ugly mug. I need my baby,” he retorted, trying to push you out of the way, but you wouldn’t budge.

“You move,” you shot back, playfully pushing his chest and sending him back a few paces.

Sienna giggled as she brushed past you. “You guys never stop fighting, do you?” she asked rhetorically, knowing full well the answer was ‘yes.’

“I hate her so much,” Haechan muttered to Sienna as she greeted him with a soft kiss on the cheek. “How are you putting up with her?”

You rolled your eyes at their PDA. “The real question is, how is she putting up with you,” you quipped, turning on your heel to fetch your stuff.

Yangyang’s SUV was parked outside, and you could make out Renjun’s figure sitting in the shotgun. As the four of you boarded the car, Yangyang glanced back at you in the backseat, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“Hey, I heard you’re seeing someone from Sci-Tech. Is that true?” he asked, his tone teasing.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, about to respond, when Renjun sighed exasperatedly from the front seat. “I said she went to see someone,” he corrected, his voice calm but laced with mock annoyance.

Yangyang turned to Renjun, feigning innocence. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No, dumbass,” Renjun shot back, rolling his eyes.

“Wow. Renjun, you’re a fucking tattletale,” you blurted, pretending to be offended but unable to keep the smile off your face.

Renjun just shrugged. “Let’s just go,” he said, his tone final but light, signaling the end of the banter as Yangyang pulled out of the driveway.

On rainy days, you often carpooled with Yangyang, who generously offered to drive you safely to school. While the sinkhole repairs were still ongoing, the city had found a detour that made it possible for cars to access the street where NCIT is.

“How much longer do you think it’s gonna take?” Renjun asked as you passed by the sinkhole.

“Hopefully not long. The traffic in this part of the city is a nightmare,” you replied, leaning forward to peer through the space between Renjun and Yangyang as you looked outside.

“Mark’s asking if we’re still going to Felize’s for lunch today,” Haechan said, his eyes glued to his phone.

“Of course, man. We haven’t eaten at Felize’s in ages,” Yangyang replied with a sigh. “I miss their quesadillas.”

“Who else is coming?” Sienna asked, peeking at her boyfriend’s phone.

“No one else. Just Mark, Jaemin, and maybe Jeno.”

Your stomach did a little flip at the mention of Jeno’s name. “You’re going to Felize’s and you never told me?” you accused, feigning indignation.

Kayla cocked an eyebrow at you. “We talked about it in the group chat last week.”

“Why didn’t I know that?”

“Because you never check your messages,” Renjun said, not missing a beat.

Haechan chimed in, “And you rarely show up to our invitations anyway.”

“I do sometimes!” you insisted.

“Rarely,” Renjun shot back, smirking.

You grinned. “Well, today is your lucky day!”

“Oh, shut up. You just want to see Jeno,” Renjun teased, his smirk widening.

“Jeno?” Haechan repeated, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you suspiciously. “Do you like Jeno?”

“Mind your own business, alright?” you shot back.

After a long day of classes, you and your friends finally made your way to Felize’s. The familiar scent of sizzling fajitas and freshly baked tortillas greeted you as you stepped inside the cozy, dimly lit restaurant. It was a favorite hangout spot, a place where you could unwind and enjoy some of the best Mexican food in town.

The group quickly spotted Mark and Jaemin already seated at a booth near the window, waving them over. You all crammed into the booth, the chatter flowing easily as menus were passed around—even though you all knew what you were going to order.

As you looked around the restaurant, your excitement started to wane. You scanned the tables, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jeno, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Jaemin noticed your expression first and grinned. “What’s with the long face? You look like you lost something.”

You tried to play it off, shrugging. “Nothing. Just thought it would be more crowded.”

Haechan chuckled. “She was expecting someone in particular.”

“Someone whose name rhymes with… Den-o?” Kayla teased, her grin widening.

You rolled your eyes, but the small smile on your face gave you away. “Okay, fine, maybe I thought Jeno would be here. But I’m not disappointed. Just… mildly inconvenienced.”

“Mildly inconvenienced,” Yangyang mocked with a playful smirk. “I can practically see the broken heart emojis floating above your head.”

“Yo! Wait, what’s going on?” Mark asked, holding up his palms. Turning to you, he asked, “Do you like Jeno?”

“No,” you denied, but you were grinning from ear-to-ear. “Who is he anyway?”

“No, seriously,” Mark pressed, eye gleaming with interest as he turned to your other friends for answers. “Seriously? Since when?”

“Not long,” you replied, hoping they'd move on. “Just very recently.”

“Recently? Alright, that makes sense. We’ve been flatmates since he got here. I was wondering why you never told us,” Mark said, nodding..

“Right? I didn’t even know there were three of you in that apartment!” you groaned.

Jaemin smiled at you. “Too bad he isn’t here. He had other things to do.”

Renjun, ever the instigator, leaned back in his seat with a knowing smile. “You know, if you really want to see him, you could just text him and ask where he is. He might appreciate the effort.”

Mark nodded in agreement, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah, or maybe we should’ve just kidnapped him and brought him here ourselves.”

Yangyang added with a grin, “Or better yet, we can all show up at his place with food and be like, ‘Hey, you missed out!’”

Haechan’s laughter was an insult to you. “Does he even know you? I heard you get tongue-tied at the mere sight of him!”

There was a chorus of disbelief from the boys at your table. Jaemin asked, still shocked, “You? Tongue-tied?”

Kayla chuckled softly. “Come on, guys. Don’t tease her like that. She’s just a bit  shy.”

“Oh god,” Yangyang exclaimed, rubbing his arms. “I got goosebumps hearing you say that.”

“Yeah, ‘shy’ and ‘you’ don’t belong in the same sentence,” added Haechan, pointing his finger at you.

You groaned, half-laughing as you covered your face with your hands. “You guys are the worst.”

“But you love us anyway,” Sienna said, patting your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, though the smile on your face gave you away. Even though Jeno wasn’t there, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment with your friends.

With the midterms fast approaching, you momentarily forgot about Jeno, focusing instead in making notes and studying. Instead of the campus library, you opted to the city library. You liked it there. It’s quieter, with fewer students, and more books to choose from. Except this time, instead of maintaining your streak as a recognized Most Diligent Reader—third place overall last year—you buried yourself in notes and textbooks.

One particularly slow weekend, you were absorbed in your study when you thought your eyes were playing tricks on you. There, leaning against one of the towering old bookshelves, was Jeno. He held a book in one hand, and his other hand twirled a pen absentmindedly. Your heart leaped to your throat, and a wave of nerves washed over you.

You quietly observed Jeno from behind the cover of your textbook, trying to focus on your notes. But despite your best intentions, your gaze kept drifting towards him. The way he casually flipped through pages and twirled his pen seemed to make time stand still. You watched as he moved from the shelves to a table across the room, burying his head into the book. You tried to concentrate, but your efforts were in vain as your mind wandered back to him.

The next day, you were back at the city library, hoping for another glimpse of him. To your surprise, Jeno was there again, looking just as engrossed in his studies as before. You couldn’t help but think that maybe he enjoyed this library as much as you did. Although that day, he studied little and slept most of the day.

One afternoon, Sienna showed up and immediately noticed your distracted state. She took one look at you and followed your gaze, rolling her eyes when she saw Jeno.

“Seriously?” Sienna said, sitting down next to you and grabbing your notes. “You’re here to study, not to gawk at some guy.”

You blushed, trying to regain your composure. “I’m not gawking. I’m just—”

“Just talk to him,” Sienna interrupted, her tone a mix of exasperation and encouragement. “He’s right there. How hard can it be?”

You felt your cheeks grow warmer. “I can’t just walk up to him. I’m—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I’m shy.”

Sienna raised an eyebrow. “You? You’re never shy.”

“I know,” you admitted, feeling a bit flustered. “It’s just… different with him. I don’t know why.”

Sienna sighed dramatically. “Fine, I’ll do it for you then. But you owe me coffee.”

You shot up from your seat, grabbing her arm to stop her. “No, wait! Please don’t.”

Sienna looked at you, puzzled. “Are you sure? He seems like a really nice guy. It wouldn’t hurt to just say hi.”

You shook your head, giving her a pleading look. “I don’t want to rush things. Just let me handle it.”

Sienna studied you for a moment, then sighed and relented. “Alright, alright. I won’t push it. But you better get on with it soon, or I’m going to start making plans for you.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, and Sienna returned to her seat, shaking her head but with a smile. You knew you needed to muster the courage to talk to Jeno on your own terms, but now is not the right time yet. Of course that’s just an excuse, but you wanted to believe it.

Once more, you found yourself at the city library, where you spotted Jeno studying with Jaemin. You decided to sit at a table right behind them, carefully positioning yourself so that Jaemin’s back was to you. This way, you could observe Jeno without risking being seen by your friend.

As you settled into your seat, you pulled out your notes and pretended to study, though your attention was primarily focused on Jeno. You discreetly stole glances over the top of your book, trying to catch glimpses of his expressions and the way he animatedly explained something to Jaemin. You found yourself fixated on his lips, the way they moved and the way they’re so pink and plump.

Just as you were lost in the sight of him, Jeno’s gaze flicked in your direction, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly ducked behind your book, pretending to be engrossed in your notes. You could almost feel your cheeks heating up, and you cursed yourself for being so obvious. Surely, he didn’t realize you’d been staring at him, right? 

You were probably wrong. He definitely saw that.

Trying to regain your composure, you forced yourself to focus on your studies, though your mind kept drifting back to that fleeting moment of eye contact. You stole another glance from behind the cover of your book, only to find that Jeno had returned to his conversation with Jaemin, seemingly unaware of your presence. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, but the excitement and nervousness of the encounter lingered, making it hard to concentrate on anything other than him.

Exams arrived, and you couldn’t help but regret not studying as diligently as you should have. You knew you wouldn’t fail any of them, but you braced yourself for some disappointing scores. That did not stop you from attending an off-campus house party though. 

The party was in full swing when you arrived, and you were having a blast with your girlfriends. Amid the laughter and music, you spotted Jeno with his group of friends. Your friends, in high spirits, decided to make a bet involving a game of flip-cup. The stakes were simple: if you lose, you had to go up and talk to Jeno.

“News travel fast,” you snickered, eyeing Sienna in particular.

Sienna shrugged nonchalantly. “Wasn’t me. They found out by themselves.”

“Yeah, you weren’t as slick as you thought,” said Olive, tossing the cup towards you.

“Don’t worry, babe,” said Kayla, squeezing your shoulder gently. “No one’s ratting you out.”

As the game progressed, you tried your best to lose, but Flip Cup just so happened to be one of those games you were oddly good at. Every time you thought you were about to lose, you somehow managed to pull through. 

“Oh, come on! Just let her lose already,” Kayla teased from the sidelines, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

“You’re actually scared to talk to Jeno, are you?” Sienna asked with a grin, playfully nudging you. “There’s no way you’re this good.”

“I’m not scared!” you protested, though you were starting to sweat. “I’m just… strategically holding back.”

Your friends exchanged amused glances, clearly not buying your excuse. “You know what? I don’t even need this,” you said with a dramatic flair, taking a big swig of the spiked punch in your red cup. “I’m gonna go talk to him right now.”

“Oooh,” your friends chorused. 

With newfound confidence, you made your way toward Jeno’s group. He stood by the music console with a few others, talking and laughing. You clenched and unclenched your fists, trying to squeeze out the nervousness that was starting to creep back in. The closer you got, the more your heart pounded, your palms growing clammy. 

It would be easier if he was alone, you thought and it was like the universe heard your plea because his friends walked away from him, rushing somewhere else while cheering. You took a deep breath, trying to muster up the courage to approach him. Just when you were almost within reach, Haechan unexpectedly passed by.

Without thinking, you grabbed his arm, veering off course. “Hi! I’ve been looking for you!” you blurted out, trying to sound casual.

Haechan blinked at you, baffled. “What? Why? What did I do?”

You forced a smile, dragging him further away from Jeno’s group. “Nothing. Just wanted to catch up with you!”

Haechan gave you a suspicious look, noting how you kept glancing over your shoulder. “What’s going on? You’re acting weird.”

When you were safely out of sight, you finally let go of Haechan and waved him off. “Go away.”

Haechan pointed at himself in mock disbelief. “Me? Go away? You’re the one who dragged me over here!”

“Well, thanks for your service. I don’t need you anymore,” you quipped, turning on your heel and heading back to your girlfriends. You were welcomed by their disappointed gazes.

“That was so anticlimactic,” Kayla remarked, shaking her head.

“Oh, shut up,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the rueful smile tugging at your lips.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and drinks. By the time you got home, you were drunk but wide awake, whining to your friends as you sprawled out on the living room carpet. Squinting up at the ceiling, you muttered, “I’m home.”

“Yeah, you are,” Sienna replied, nodding as she watched you.

You pointed at the lightbulb above you. “But I don’t see Jeno Lee. He should be here.”

“He probably would be if you didn’t chicken out at the last minute,” Sienna scolded, shaking her head. “And you’re not in your bedroom, dumbass. Get up!”

You groaned, closing your eyes as you smiled. “Next time... maybe.”

Sienna rolled her eyes and nudged you with her foot. “Yeah, sure. We’ll believe it when we see it.”

Days passed with you casually crossing paths with Jeno more often. It was like the universe had decided to make him appear everywhere you went. You noticed that you both arrived on campus around the same time, late in the morning at 10:30. He was often at the quad, surrounded by friends or just passing by. Each glimpse of him was like a small thrill, a bright spot in your routine school day.

The public library was a hit-or-miss; sometimes he was there, and other times he wasn’t. Still, you went there every day out of habit, mainly to read and also to see him if he happened to be there.

You got to know him in this way, piecing together bits of his life through observations and casual conversations with others. You learned about his friends, his classes, and his easygoing personality. He seemed to be well-liked by everyone, always ready with a smile or a kind word.

But there was one place you rarely saw him: the food court. It has been a while since you found out about him, and despite having mutual friends, you have yet to talk to him or share the same space. Today, you walked into the food court and scanned the place for any sign of him, only to be disappointed by his absence.

You settled on the chair next to Kayla, fixing your bag. Sliding next to you, Kayla whispered, “You look glum. Haven’t seen your crush today yet?”

You rolled your eyes at her mischievous grin. “No. And I’m not glum at all! Especially not because of that.”

Sienna snickered from her spot next to Haechan. “Yeah, you are totally glum because of that.”

Just as you were about to retort, you caught sight of Jeno walking into the cafeteria. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him navigate through the crowd, his easy smile drawing you in. He greeted a few friends with casual high-fives and settled into a seat with a group of students—Mark, Jaemin, and Yangyang among them.

Kayla nudged you, a knowing look in her eyes. “There he is.”

“Yeah, don’t care,” you said, but the grin spreading across your face was a clear contradiction of your words.

Haechan shuddered exaggeratedly. “You’re so creepy when you smile like that.”

You shot him a glare. “And? How about making yourself useful to me for once and make it so that we can have lunch together?”

Haechan flashed a challenging smirk. “Think you can handle it?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you opened your salad. “Never mind. I don’t need your help. I can manage my own love life.”

“Sure you can,” he jeered. “Isn’t that why you still haven’t talked to him after all this time?”

You were about to snap back when Sienna interjected, “Table manners, sweethearts.”

Haechan rolled his eyes, then mimed zipping his lips. “Your friend is annoying,” he muttered to Sienna.

“And your boyfriend is super annoying,” you retorted.

“Your friend is ultra—” Haechan started, but Sienna cut him off.

“Stop it,” Sienna chided sternly. He quickly complied, pretending to lock his lips. “Ugh, kids.”

In the afternoon, as you were walking through the Arts building, you spotted a familiar figure down the hallway. It was Jeno! Your stomach fluttered, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing there. Curiosity got the best of you, and after some subtle investigation—okay, maybe a little eavesdropping—you discovered the reason. He had taken up Carpentry as an elective!

To make things even better, you were in that class! You had chosen it just for fun, but with Jeno there, your mind raced with possibilities as you found something new to look forward to. Did this mean you’d see him more often? What should you do? You have no idea yet, for now, you must go to class.

When saw him there, you could barely keep your eyes off him but you had to try. Though you didn’t have any chances to talk yet, you were content with just seeing him there, sharing the same space. 

Later, you told Sienna and Kayla about it, your head floating in the clouds out of sheer joy. They exchanged amused looks, teasing you mercilessly about your "carpenter crush," but they understood your fascination, even if they enjoyed poking fun at you.

Carpentry was scheduled every Tuesday and Thursday. On Thursday, as you were heading to class, you found yourself walking behind him. He was talking to one of his friends, his laughter echoing in the hallway. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warm glow inside.

In class, you worked on your project, stealing glances at Jeno every now and then. The room smelled of clay, and the sound of tools clinking filled the air. He was focused on his own work, unaware of your silent admiration. It was enough for now, you told yourself. Just being near him was enough.

But as you worked on your project, sneaking glances at him, you knew this was just the beginning. There was a quiet contentment in being near him, but a part of you couldn’t help but hope for more—just one conversation, one chance to see if your feelings were more than just a crush.

“What are your plans for the Sports Fest?” Kayla asked, nudging your arm. “I’ll be doing Badminton Doubles with Olive.”

In the living room of your apartment, you and your friends gathered around the coffee table, eating takeout from a fast food restaurant. Everyone in your close circle was there, and you had asked them to bring Jeno but apparently, he had plans.

You waved your hand dismissively as you swallowed your food. “Hard pass. I’m still healing from that awful injury last year,” you replied, massaging your right wrist.

During last year’s sports fest, you played volleyball for your department. You remembered the sharp pain as you fell on your arm, the way your wrist twisted awkwardly beneath you. It had long since healed, but the memory of that day still lingered, leaving you with an irrational fear of getting hurt again. It was an awful experience that you would rather not relive.

“I thought you’re completely healed?” asked Mark, taking your hand to examine your wrist. “Did you break a bone? I thought it was just a sprain.”

“I’m just exaggerating,” you snickered, retracting your hand. “My wrist is healed but my heart is not. It’s called trauma.”

“Yeah, I know what it’s called,” Mark chuckled.

You eyed him curiously. “What about you? Basketball?”

Mark nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Honestly, I can’t wait to kick Yangyang’s ass.”

Across the room on the leather couch, Yangyang was gobbling his burger. Unable to speak with his mouth full, he flipped a middle finger at Mark, who just laughed.

“Ah, I almost forgot!” Mark exclaimed, looking at you with widened eyes. “Jeno’s playing too!”

The mention of Jeno made your face light up. “He is?”

“Look at you all bright and excited,” Jaemin teased.

Renjun smirked, patting his hands as he finished his food. “Watch her betray her department and cheer for a different team again. Like she did last year for her ex.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, covering your ears and closing your eyes. “No bad words on the dinner table.”

Sienna leaned in with a smirk. “Wanna bet she’d cheer for the Humanities Department this year?”

Kayla chimed in, “Pass. We all know she’d support Jeno no matter what.”

You rolled your eyes, but the thought lingered. “We’ll see,” you mumbled, hiding your smile behind another bite of food. “I’ll be there for all your games, though. Moral support and all.”

The three-day Sports Fest dawned on NCIT with a strong air of festivity and excitement. Banners and streamers hung around the campus, bearing the crests and colors of each department. For the first two days, you cheered and supported your friends in their respective sports, while making sure not to miss each one of Jeno’s basketball games. In between games, you enjoyed the booths that the clubs had set up on the campus grounds. There were food stalls with a variety of snacks and meal sets. There were fair games with plush toys for prizes. Your favorite was the photobooth where you and your friends took lots of pictures to commemorate the event. 

The last day of the event was for championships. To showcase the camaraderie of the student body, everyone dressed in the colors of their respective departments, and the entire campus thrummed with cheers and enthusiasm for the day.

You wore a vivid blue shirt bearing the crest of the Humanities Department and throughout the day, you moved courts cheering for your friends in their respective sports. Haechan did well in his soccer game, and Kayla seemed to have secured the silver for your department. But the highlight of your day was the basketball championship.

It was a match between the Humanities Department and the Engineering Department. The covered court was booming with cheers from the students who filled up the bleachers. The school band played an upbeat tune, adding to the festive atmosphere. You and your friends went early to get the best seats to watch the game. The blue flaglets in your hand blended with everyone else on your side of the court. On the other, green long balloons were cheering for the Engineering department.

Players were warming up down at the court, stretching, and doing practice shooting before the game officially began. Mark spotted your group and waved two hands at you.

“Boo!” Yangyang jeered beside you with his thumbs down. He was salty after his Business Department lost to Engineering yesterday.

You looked for Jeno among the different faces. There he was, dressed in his uniform—white and green jersey, matching shorts, and sneakers that seemed to gleam under the bright lights. The uniform hugged his athletic build, showcasing his toned muscles and broad shoulders. He blended in with the team but the way he moved with an easy grace and confident stride made him stand out even more in your eyes.

“Close your mouth!” Jaemin teased, earning a chorus of laughter from your friends. “We don’t want Jeno to see you drooling.” 

You quickly clamped your mouth shut, feeling your cheeks heat up as Sienna nudged you with a knowing smile. Still, you couldn’t take your eyes off Jeno. The way he carried himself and the way his eyes sparkled with excitement made him look even more captivating. It was as if he was glowing, radiating an aura of coolness and charisma.

As the final minutes before the game ticked away, the energy in the court grew higher. You could feel your pulse quicken in sync with the rising tension in the air. The earlier games and festivities had been thrilling, but this match was the one you’d been waiting for. You couldn’t help but wonder if Jeno had noticed you in the crowd during his previous games, or if he was too focused on the game to even glance your way. The thought made your heart race, but you pushed it aside, deciding to enjoy the view instead.

As the game started, the energy in the court surged to new heights. You were on the edge of your seat, your heart pounding in time with the rhythm of the game. The Humanities Department was strong, but your eyes were only on Jeno and his team. Every time the Engineering Department scored, you couldn’t help but leap to your feet, waving your blue flaglets as if they were green.

“Go, Engineering!” you shouted, your voice ringing out loud and clear among the crowd. You were so absorbed in cheering for Jeno that you didn’t even notice the confused looks from your own department. It was strange, even to you, seeing someone in the vivid blue of Humanities cheering so passionately for the opposing team.

It didn’t take long for Jeno to notice your enthusiastic support. During a brief pause in the game, he glanced in your direction. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes met, and a slow, amused smile spread across his face. You could feel your cheeks flush, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back, your heart soaring.

Throughout the game, you continued to cheer louder than anyone else, your voice echoing across the court. Every time Jeno glanced your way, you felt a thrill shoot through you, making you cheer even louder. At one point, he made a particularly impressive play—a quick steal and a flawless layup—that had you jumping to your feet with a wild cheer.

As he jogged back down the court, he caught your eye again and flashed you another smile, a playful glint in his eyes that sent you straight to cloud nine. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared glances and silent connections.

“Are you even from Humanities?” Yangyang teased, nudging you with his elbow. “You might as well be wearing green.”

You just laughed, too giddy to care about the odd looks you were getting. Nothing else mattered at that moment. All you could think about was Jeno—how his every move seemed effortless, how his smiles made you feel like you were the only one in the crowd.

The game continued, but you were already winning in your own way, basking in the warmth of Jeno’s attention. Mark had been grinning mischievously at you, clearly amused by your bold display.

The game was intense, with both teams neck and neck until the final quarter. The tension in the air was palpable, every dribble and pass holding the crowd in suspense. You were on your feet almost the entire time, cheering your heart out for the Engineering team, and especially for Jeno. With every basket, your voice rose above the rest, earning even more curious and amused glances from those around you.

As the clock ticked down the final seconds, the Engineering team managed to pull ahead by just a few points. The crowd roared as Jeno’s team scored the winning basket, securing the championship title. You screamed with joy, jumping up and down, waving your flaglets wildly. It didn’t matter that you were in blue—you felt like you were part of the victory too.

After the game, as the teams shook hands and congratulated each other, you noticed Mark heading your way, with Jeno walking right beside him. Your heart skipped a beat again, and you tried to calm your racing thoughts as they approached.

Mark grinned widely as he reached you. “Hey, Jeno,” he said, turning to his friend, “I’ve got to introduce you to the loudest cheerleader you had out there today.”

You felt a blush creeping up your neck as Mark gestured toward you. Jeno’s eyes sparkled with recognition, and that familiar smile curved on his lips.

“I am honored,” Jeno said, his voice warm and teasing. “I could hear you all the way from the court. Thanks for the support, even though you’re… clearly not from Engineering.”

You laughed, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “I couldn’t help it,” you admitted, grinning up at him. “You guys were just too good.”

Jeno chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “We appreciate it. You should consider switching departments,” he added playfully.

You shook your head, still smiling. “I’m pretty attached to Humanities. I’ll always root for you though.”

“Good to know,” Jeno said, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that made your heart flutter all over again.

Mark smirked, clearly pleased with himself for setting up this interaction. “You guys are coming to the party tonight, right?”

You shrugged, glancing at your friends behind you. “We wouldn’t miss it!” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Great,” Jeno said, his smile widening. “Let’s celebrate, then.”

As the crowd began to disperse and the festivities moved off the court, you couldn’t believe your luck. As you walked out of the court, surrounded by friends and buzzing with excitement, you couldn’t help but feel like something wonderful had begun.

“The ship is finally sailing!” Kayla chimed as you exited the campus together with Sienna.

“About damn time!” Sienna exclaimed and the three of you squealed in excitement.

Tonight, you will talk to Jeno Lee. You had finally made up your mind about it. It should be so hard now, considering he now knows of your existence and you two had already been introduced. 

You arrived at the provided address with Kayla, wrapped in thick coats due to the cold weather. The house was a sprawling two-story with a large backyard, and it was already rowdy. Music blared from the speakers set up on the patio, and the air was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter.

Inside, the party was in full swing and you had to lose your coats due to the hotter atmosphere. The living room was packed with students, some lounging on plush sofas while others danced to the beat of the music. Red solo cups and plates of snacks were scattered everywhere, and the whole house was filled with the aroma of pizza and chips. Green LED lights and the Engineering department’s green banners added a nice touch.

You were there to have fun, that’s a given. But you were mainly there to see Jeno, you wouldn’t deny that fact. It wasn’t hard to find him. He was standing near the snack table, talking and laughing with a group of friends. He seemed to be in high spirits, smiling and looking handsome under the warm glow of the lights.

He moved across the room, catching your eye, and for a moment, you froze, wondering if he noticed you. When he settled on a single couch and pulled out his phone, you took this as your cue to approach him.

“Okay. Calm down,” you told yourself, steadying your breathing. “You’re just gonna say hi. Tell him he did great at the game or something.”

With your heart pounding, you started walking towards him, rehearsing your words in your mind. Just as you were about five steps away, you noticed a girl walk up to Jeno. She had a confident stride and a friendly smile. Your steps faltered, and you hesitated, watching as they exchanged a few words. And then, in a moment that felt like it was stretching on forever, they kissed.

It was a brief but unmistakable kiss, a tender connection that spoke volumes. His hand around her waist was firm, and the smile he gave her should have been sweet, but it was painful for you to look at.

Your heart sank, and the world around you seemed to blur. The warmth of the party, the music, and the lively chatter all faded into a distant hum. A cold, empty feeling settled in your chest, making it hard to breathe. It felt as though someone had pressed pause on your world, leaving you standing on the edge of a scene you could no longer be a part of.

You turned away quickly, embarrassed and worried someone might notice you gawking. You took a deep breath, lifted your chin, and walked the opposite way, pretending you hadn’t seen anything. But the image was seared into your mind, refusing to fade.

You forced a smile at some students who recognized you, but your heart was aching so badly that you felt like crying. The excitement of the evening had dimmed, replaced by a feeling of quiet sadness. Still, you forced yourself to stay, determined not to let the moment ruin the night entirely. You were supposed to have fun here, after all, however difficult that might be now.

“Hey, you okay?” Kayla suddenly appeared by your side, his eyes searching your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, forcing another smile. “Just needed some air.”

Kayla didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she looped her arm through yours. “Let’s find something to drink.”

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. The two of you made your way to the kitchen, where a group of students were mixing drinks and chatting loudly. You grabbed a soda and pretended to listen to the conversations around you, though your mind kept drifting back to what you had just witnessed.

After a few minutes, Kayla nudged you. “There’s Sienna and Haechan! Let’s go say hi.”

You followed her gaze and spotted the couple near the back door, laughing with a group of students. She greeted you both with a big hug, immediately noticing your mood.

“What’s up?” Sienna asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. “Just tired.”

Sienna eyed you for a moment before nodding. “Well, this party better wake you up! Come on, let’s dance.”

You allowed yourself to be dragged to the makeshift dance floor, where the music was louder, and the energy was infectious. You danced along with Kayla and Sienna, trying to lose yourself in the rhythm. For a moment, it worked. You laughed and moved to the beat, letting the music drown out your thoughts.

But it wasn’t long before your mind wandered back to Jeno. You caught glimpses of him across the room, and each time, the image of him with that girl played on repeat in your head. It hurt more than you wanted to admit.

As the night wore on, you found yourself sitting on the living room couch, watching people play, talk, and drink.  Your mind floated to space, consumed by thoughts of Jeno. Everything had gone so wrong so fast. Suddenly, this whole crush thing felt ridiculous and stupid. How classic of you to jump into something without carefully measuring the fall.

Just as you were about to drown in your thoughts, Mark appeared from the crowd, smiling as he skipped over to you and plopped down on the couch beside you. “There you are! Having fun?”

“Hey,” you said weakly, trying to muster some enthusiasm. But Mark’s scowl told you that you weren’t fooling him.

“Apparently not. Is everything okay?” Mark asked, concern etched across his face.

You hesitated, then let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. Just… tired,” you replied, chuckling softly as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I should probably just go home.”

“Why? Shouldn’t you be talking to Jeno right now?”

“Ugh, forget it. I don’t like him anymore.”

Mark winced. “What happened? Did you find an ick that made you cringe?”

You exhaled sharply, glaring at him. “Go away if you’re just gonna talk about Jeno all night.”

“Alright, fine. I won’t,” he chuckled heartily, raising his hands in surrender. Then, he offered you his bottle of beer with a grin.

Without hesitating, you grabbed it and chugged the contents in one go. The cold liquid burned down your throat, and you burped a little too loudly, causing Mark to burst out laughing. You were annoyed at first, but his laughter was contagious, and soon enough, you found yourself laughing along with him. The heavy weight on your chest lifted even only for a moment, replaced by a warmth that spread through you, making everything a little more bearable.

It wasn’t difficult at all to push Jeno out of your mind: you just had to focus on other things. Mornings began with the shrill ring of the alarm, followed by a hasty breakfast and the walk to school. Classes became a sanctuary of focus. The workload was manageable, and you found a rhythm in balancing your assignments with extracurricular activities. You continued to be the congenial girl that you are, making friends here and there while keeping up with old ones.

Carpentry class, however, was a different story. Jeno sat just a few tables away, his presence a constant, aching reminder.  You occasionally caught glimpses of him, but your gazes never lingered anymore, concentrating instead on your projects.

Lunchtimes were spent mostly with Kayla and Sienna—Haechan too since he couldn’t seem to stand being away from his girlfriend. You shared stories and laughter over cafeteria food that ranged from surprisingly decent to downright questionable. You talk about your classes, your adjustments, and, occasionally, the lingering shadow of your crush. They couldn’t believe their ears when you said you didn’t like him anymore. When you refused to tell them why, they didn’t press for an answer.

Afternoons were reserved for your favorite spot in the public library. It was your quiet retreat, and if Jeno happened to be there, you hardly noticed. Your focus was on your reading and studies, pushing aside any lingering thoughts of him.

Evenings are quieter. You come home, tired but content, and reflect on the day’s events. You sit at your desk, do your homework, and occasionally glance at social media, where Jeno’s updates serve as a bittersweet reminder of a failed romance—not that it even began in the first place.

Fate had other plans though. Like a prank just to rain on your parade, you were paired with Jeno for a Carpentry project.

If this had happened before you discovered he was taken, you would have been over the moon with excitement, thrilled by the prospect of working closely with him. But now, all you could feel was apprehension and awkwardness.

“Looks like we’re partners,” he said, his heart-melting smile making it impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you replied, striving for nonchalance despite the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

As you both settled at a table, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you and the project before you. You mentally scolded yourself, determined not to fall back into the crazy crush you’d put behind you.

“So, where do we start?” you asked, pulling out your notebook and your pen case out of your bag.

Before responding, Jeno tilted his head slightly, studying you with a curious expression. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Nervousness engulfed you. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“The taxi cab a few months back,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “It was pouring and I barged into your cab.”

You laughed shyly. “Of course. I remember.”

He nodded, leaning back slightly. “What about before that?”

“Before?” you asked stupidly, racking your brain.

“The library. You fell, and I—”

“Ah!” you exclaimed, suddenly recalling the day you first met him. You laughed softly, shaking your head. “How could I forget?”

Jeno chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, you remembered? Why didn’t you say anything?”

You scoffed. “Why didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “I thought you might not recognize me.”

Oh god, Jeno, if you only knew, you thought, suppressing a smile. “Well, now we know,” you said in feigned indifference. There was a moment of silence, a comfortable one, where the two of you simply looked at each other, a newfound connection sparking between you. 

“So,” you said, breaking the silence with a smile. You pressed a thumb on the sheet handed to you by Mr. Harris. “Shall we get started?”

“Sure,” he replied, his smile widening.

This could be it—the beginning of something new, a chance to turn a long-held crush into a real connection. And you would have been ready for it if not for the fact that he had a girlfriend. So you pushed your feelings aside and resolved to not step out of the line.

What started as an academic collaboration soon turned into something more comfortable and natural. You got to know each other in the few days you spent working together so far. Your task was to create a fully functional reclining chair, and from the outset, it was clear that this was going to be a challenging project. The first day, you both laid out the design, Jeno’s enthusiasm was infectious and it was clear that he was enjoying this class, unlike you who only signed up for fun. 

“I think we should go with a sleek, modern look,” he suggested, his eyes bright with excitement. You nodded in agreement, appreciating his vision and passion for the project.

Jeno was surprisingly meticulous with his measurements and cuts, his focus sharp and his explanations clear. You found his dedication impressive and his passion for the craft endearing. He showed you how to properly measure and cut the wood. His patience and willingness to teach made the learning process enjoyable.

One afternoon, as you worked on sanding the wooden pieces, Jeno shared a story about his childhood, describing how his father used to involve him in small woodworking projects around the house. His eyes lit up with nostalgia, and you could see the joy in his voice as he spoke. It was a side of him you hadn’t seen before, and it made you appreciate him even more.

In return, you told him about your own experiences, your hobbies, and the challenges you faced when balancing school and extracurriculars. Jeno listened intently, his smile genuine and his responses thoughtful. The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time.

During these sessions, you learned that Jeno was more than just a charming basketball player. He was kind, thoughtful, and had a dry sense of humor that made you chuckle. You also discovered that he was a great listener, always eager to hear your thoughts and ideas. Despite your resolve to forget about your crush, you couldn’t deny that he was easy to talk to and genuinely pleasant to be around. Funny how it was so much easier to get to know him and talk to him now that you decided to forget having a crush on him. 

Still, there was no point in hoping to make a special connection with someone who’s taken.

“You were really good at it,” you told him once when you happened to talk about the Engineering Department’s basketball win. You were in the workshop, watching him color the sketch you made for your project.

“Not good enough to be MVP,” he said, shaking his head without lifting his head. “Speaking of, you were really supportive then.”

You shrugged, mentally rolling your eyes at how silly you were at the time. “I’m a fan of Mark’s when it comes to basketball,” you said, saving face with a harmless lie. “You were amazing too, so I thought you deserved the cheers.”

Jeno chuckled heartily, eyes crinkling as he looked up at you momentarily. The mole under his eye was a cute distraction. “You’re praising me too much. I should take you out to dinner.”

You flashed a deadpan expression before you burst out laughing. Jeno watched you with a goofy grin.

“I guess that was too fast, huh? Should I have gone for coffee instead?” he said and you could swear he was flirting with you.

Rolling your eyes, you brushed your assumptions aside. “I am tempted. But I must decline.”

He shrugged, taking your rejection in stride. “I’ll try again tomorrow then.”

“Charming,” you mocked. “It’s a shame you’re in a relationship. I would have accepted.”

Jeno’s hand froze on the sketchpad, looking up at you with a confused expression. “I’m in a relationship? Since when?”

“Since—” you paused, realizing the tone of his voice just now. “Wait, you’re not?”

You stared at each other, confusion and bewilderment visible on your faces. Before either of you could break the silence, Mr. Harris arrived to dismiss the class.

“I have to go,” you told him, gathering your stuff in haste before rushing out of the room.

The living room of Renjun, Haechan, and Yangyang’s shared apartment was peaceful, the slow melodic music playing in the background bringing a tranquil vibe to the space. Sitting on the carpeted floor with their heads resting on the couch were Haechan, Jaemin, and Mark. The three of them had sheet masks on their faces, and on the coffee table sat a humidifier fogging the room with a sweet citrusy vanilla scent.

Renjun sat on the sofa, reading a book while also wearing a sheet mask. From the small kitchen, Sienna emerged with a glass of water.

“How’s it going?” she asked, beaming at the calming view of her friends taking care of their skin. It was her idea, of course. They do this once every two weeks, even calling it Spa Day.

“I look forward to this every time, Sienna,” said Jaemin before taking a deep breath. 

Kayla appeared next to Sienna with a smirk. “You’re doing God’s work, S. I doubt these boys would recognize a moisturizer if it smacked them on the face.”

“Or a sunscreen,” Sienna added and the two shared a laugh. “They’re running late, aren’t they?” she asked, referring to you and Yangyang.

“Well, Yangyang said he’s opting out because he needs to be somewhere today. As for our girl—” Kayla was cut off by the loud sound of the door slamming open. The sound briefly shattered the tranquility of the atmosphere, catching everyone off-guard and even causing Renjun to jolt up from his seat.

All eyes turned to the doorway where you stood with your hand on the door, huffing as if you’d been running. Your eyes were wide and color seemed to have been drained from your face.

“Speak of the devil,” Kayla quipped, walking over to you.

Haechan tutted sternly. “Did you really have to slam the door like that? You’re so dramatic.”

Ignoring Haechan’s taunting, you walked into the flat and stood in front of Jaemin and Mark, who both looked up at you curiously.

“What’s up?” Jaemin asked, grinning.

“Tell me. Does Jeno have a girlfriend?”

Mark’s brows furrowed. “Not that I know of,” he said, turning to Jaemin for confirmation.

Jaemin shook his head at Mark and turned to you. “No. He doesn’t.”

You dropped your bag on the floor and knelt next to Jaemin, placing your shaking hands on his forearm. “But I saw him kiss this gorgeous girl at the Engineering party last month.”

“Really?” he questioned. He pondered for a moment and you shook his arms impatiently. “Last month? Then it must have been Camille from Com-Sci.”

“Do you know her?” you asked, confusion and concern evident.

“Yeah, she asked Jeno out, but he turned her down. I thought they might have hooked up, but Jeno said nothing happened,” Jaemin explained.

You cast a suspicious gaze at him. “Are you lying?”

Jaemin scoffed. “No. Why would I lie to you?”

“So, he’s single?” you asked, your voice tinged with relief.

“Pretty much,” Jaemin confirmed.

“Does he… you know… sleep around?” you asked hesitantly.

Jaemin chuckled, shaking his head. “Not as far as I know. But if he did, I’d rather not talk about his sex life.”

You rose to your feet, heading for the couch and slumping on it, face first. Thoughts raced in your head, so many of them at the same time that it was almost incoherent.

Mark turned to you on the couch. “Wait, you said you didn’t like him anymore? Was that the reason?”

“Oh my god!” Kayla exclaimed, realization slowly dawning on your friends.

“You saw him kiss a girl?” Renjun recalled, looking lost and confused. “And thought she was his girlfriend?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice muffled by the soft couch. You flailed your arms and kicked your legs in frustration. “God! I was so stupid!”

Sienna sat on the couch, taking your head and gently placing it on her lap. “No, you’re not. It was a completely normal reaction. I’d think he’s dating someone too if I saw him kiss her.”

“Right?” you blurted, lifting your head to see her face. You shifted on the couch, sitting up properly. “But that was a total miss, wasn’t it?”

“Kind of,” Sienna shrugged.

“Yeah, you should have just asked,” Mark added, smoothing out the sheet mask on his face.

Kayla sat on your other side. “So if he’s single, does that mean you can take another shot at him? You guys know each other now, right?”

You smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know. I’m kinda bummed now. Although I’m gonna be honest, I’m relieved that he’s single. I just… lost the motivation.”

“You still like him though, right?” Sienna asked.

You nodded and the girls exchanged looks. Kayla said, “Then what’s stopping you now?”

The realization began to settle in. Maybe things weren’t as complicated as you’d thought. This could very well be the universe giving you a second chance. Perhaps now you can approach him without the weight of false assumptions.

You shook your head slowly, processing the revelation. “What am I even gonna do about it? It’s not like I had a shot in the first place.”

Jaemin chuckled mischievously. “I don’t know why you’re saying that, but I think you have a clear shot.”

“Yeah. You can’t give up now after everything you’ve done so far!”

Haechan giggled beside Sienna. “Did anyone else notice that whenever we do Spa Day, we get juicy girl conversations like this?”

Leave it to Haechan to ruin an otherwise lovely moment. As you laughed along with your friends, you felt a renewed sense of hope. Maybe this time, things could turn out differently.

The familiar scent of freshly cut wood and the sound of saws and sanders filled the air as you entered the Carpentry workshop. Your eyes scanned the room, landing on Jeno. He was already there, engrossed in his work, brows furrowed in concentration as he shaped a piece of wood.

Oddly, it felt gratifying to see him now knowing he wasn’t actually in love with someone. The sight of him always made your heart race, but today it felt different—more hopeful. You walked over to your workstation, trying to appear casual while stealing glances at him.

Jeno looked up and caught your eye, giving you a small, friendly nod. You returned the gesture, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. The knowledge that Jeno was single was a game-changer, but pursuing a relationship with him was an entirely different dilemma. You first needed to figure out if he even liked you at all.

Just the thought of being rejected was already bruising your pride and crushing your spirit. For now, you were resolved to act as normally as possible around him and avoid revealing your feelings.

You smiled, feeling a little self-conscious. Relax, you told yourself. It’s not like he—or anyone else—can read your mind. “Actually, yeah. Could you show me how to get this joint right?”

“Sure thing,” he said, his voice calm and patient. He walked over, and you held your breath nervously as he stood close to you. Trying to focus on his instructions, you found your gaze fixated on his lips.

“You got that?” he asked, eyes meeting yours. 

You blinked, surprised and confused. “Sorry?”

Jeno chuckled lightly. “It’ll be easier if I just show you. Here.”

He took your hands in his, placing them on the piece of wood. The warmth from his skin seeped onto yours, sending a blush to your already burning cheeks. You mentally scolded yourself for being awkward and reminded yourself to breathe or you’d pass out.

Unaware of your mental struggle, Jeno guided your hands deftly, showing you the right angle. “See? It’s all about the angle,” he said, glancing up and catching your gaze. You quickly looked away, cheeks flushing.

“Got it,” you mumbled, attempting to steady your racing heart. Whatever happened to not being obvious? you screamed in your head.

As he continued to explain, you found yourself relaxing, letting his steady presence and soothing voice calm your nerves. You managed to follow his instructions, feeling a small surge of triumph when you finally got it right.

“There you go,” Jeno said with a smile, his eyes twinkling with approval. “You’re a natural.”

“Thanks,” you replied, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Anytime,” he said, still standing close. 

As days turned into weeks, you found yourself admiring Jeno more and more. His dedication to the project was evident in every detail, from the meticulous sanding of each piece to the careful assembly of the frame. He was not just talented but also incredibly kind and encouraging, always ready with a smile or a reassuring word when you struggled with a task.

One afternoon, as you both worked on the chair’s reclining mechanism, Jeno glanced over at you, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve got a real knack for this,” he said, his voice warm with sincerity. “I’m impressed.”

Your heart fluttered at his compliment, and you felt a rush of gratitude. “Thanks, Jeno. I couldn’t have done it without your help,” you replied, meeting his gaze. 

Your admiration for him grew with each shared glance and quiet conversation. During breaks, you chatted about everything from school to personal interests, laughing together over jokes and enjoying companionable silence. The air between you was charged with a growing sense of familiarity and ease.

“Do you have any hobbies outside of this?” he asked one day, genuinely curious.

“I love photography,” you admitted, feeling more comfortable sharing your passions with him. “Though I’m not very good at it. I like to sketch too, sometimes.”

“Oh yeah. The sketch you made for this chair was awesome. It looked like you can actually touch the details,” Jeno said, a smile spreading across his face. 

“Yeah, you already told me that,” you chimed.

“Maybe you could show me some of your work sometime.”

“Hmm. I only show it to my close friends,” you teased, grinning at him when he clutched his chest pretending to be hurt by your words.

“Four weeks of being partners and I still don’t count as a close friend?” he questioned, face contorted in mock offense and curiosity.

“You're overreacting. Four weeks is only eight days for us, Jeno Lee. We have Carpentry class on Tuesdays and Thursdays only.”

“But we worked on this outside class last Friday.”

“Once. That’s nine days. Still not a lot of time,” you quipped. It was gradual but the boundaries between project partners and friends began to blur for you and Jeno, which is why you now feel comfortable just hanging out and joking around like this. Although you’re still gaga about him and get butterflies over the smallest gestures, you no longer get tongue-tied or nervous around him.

You went from sneaking glances at him in the cafeteria to sharing lunch together twice. From admiring him quietly in the quad or the library to smiling and saying ‘Hi’. You were definitely friends now, although not as close. It was a welcome change, making you look forward to every school day.

One particularly memorable afternoon, you both struggled with the final adjustments to the chair. You have been working on this mechanism for a while now and still couldn’t get it to work properly. You’ve done everything you possibly could, even getting hands-on help from your professor.

“Now, then,” Mr Harris said, wiping the sweat on his forehead. “Try that again.”

You nodded, feeling a surge of determination. Working together, you managed to align the pieces perfectly, and the chair finally reclined smoothly. There were quiet gasps in the classroom while you and Jeno stared at each other with mouths hanging open.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, hands flying over your mouth. Quietly, you added, “We did it.” 

Jeno’s smile was warm and relieved. “We did it,” he echoed.

.Overwhelmed with joy, you threw your arms around his neck, and he hugged you back, lifting you slightly off your feet. Realizing belatedly that you were hugging Jeno made you hyper-aware of the moment. You shyly pulled away, glancing anywhere but at him. Mr. Harris was clapping behind him, making you smile gratefully.

Being lifted made you hyper-aware, realizing belatedly that you were hugging Jeno. You shyly pulled away, glancing anywhere else but Jeno. Mr Harris was clapping behind him, making you smile gratefully.

“Thanks, sir!” you told your professor. 

“Mr. Harris was putting you up for failure when he assigned you the reclining chair,” one of your classmates quipped, walking over to examine your work.

You laughed lightly, watching your other classmates approach your worktable. Your eyes met Jeno’s among your classmates, and he showed you a thumbs-up which you returned with a smile. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your mind replayed the part where you were hugging Jeno over and over.

Jeno approached you with a proud smile in his eyes. “We did it!” he said, giving you a high-five that lingered just a moment longer than necessary. The brief contact sent a thrill through you, a reminder of how much you enjoyed being close to him.

Mr. Harris announced that the projects would be judged by other professors, which would impact your grades. Every pair had completed their pieces—tables, lamps, chairs, and more. While yours might not be the prettiest, you hoped it would get the recognition it deserved.

After class, as students cleaned up, Jeno pointed out something that made you laugh. “You’ve got a lot of pens and pencils,” he said, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. “Like, a lot.”

“That’s not even half of them. I keep buying them for no reason. It’s hoarding at this point,” you admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Hmm. I see,” he responded, still amused. He leaned on the worktable, his backpack slung over one shoulder. “You must write a lot. Or draw.”

“Like I told you before, I sketch. And I do write, but not as much as you think. Even if I did, the sheer volume of pens I have is excessive. I think I need to see a psychiatrist for this,” you joked, shaking your head.

Jeno shook his head, “I don’t think so. Everyone is allowed their own harmless obsession. Mine is probably weirder.”

Your curiosity piqued, you asked, “Oh really? What’s yours?”

He hesitated, a glint of embarrassment in his eyes. “Nah, you don’t wanna know.”

Sometimes it was frustrating that Jeno was completely clueless about your massive crush on him. If he had even the slightest clue, he’d know you were definitely—absolutely—totally, interested in anything and everything about him.

“Actually, I do,” you replied, trying to tone down your interest to the Not-So-Obsessed-With-Him Level. 

Jeno looked away, scratching his nape. “Forget it. Let’s just go.”

“Oh come on, you can’t say something like that and then not tell me!” you protested, playfully nudging him.

After some pestering, he finally confessed, “When I was in high school, I liked keeping confetti.”

“Confetti?”

“Not just any confetti. Only the ones from our basketball games. The ones where we win. Like a little memento.”

You smiled at his revelation, zipping your bag after you finished packing your stuff. “That’s actually really cute.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, looking away shyly with his ears reddening out of embarrassment.

“It is!” you insisted, letting him take your bag after he stopped you from wearing it over your shoulder. “Didn’t you say everyone is allowed their own harmless obsessions?”

“Alright… I guess?” Jeno shrugged, a shy smile making his cheeks burn. You walked out of the classroom together, your bag in his hand. “I have them in small ziplock bags.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Why ziplock bags? Don’t you have a jar or something?”

“I do, but it’s easier to organize them with ziplock bags.”

“How about a scrapbook? You could glue them in and write about them.”

“Uh… no thanks. I’m not at all artistic or craftsy.”

“You were good with woodworking though.”

“That’s different.”

The project is nearly complete. You realized how much you cherished these moments with Jeno. The reclining chair, with its smooth lines and functional elegance, stood as a testament to your combined efforts and growing friendship. But more than that, it symbolized the bond you had forged through hard work, shared dreams, and mutual respect. The realization filled you with a quiet sense of joy and hope that this closeness would continue to grow even after the project ended.

[To be continued in Part 2]

[rafesfavbimbo]

Pose for Daddy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x GlamourModel!Reader - Blurb

Part of my GlamourModel! Reader AU which can be read here Part 1 Part 2

A/N: Photo is for storyline aesthetics. GM!Reader can be imagined as anyone. Though - reader is depicted with a breast job due to her Playboy status.

CW: SMUT!!! Dom/Sub dynamics,choking.. I think that’s all tbh

This is the kind of photo Rafe takes of GlamourModel! Reader after they get freaky, hear me out…

As much as Rafe loves having her under him... he thinks having her on top is a religious experience all on its own. He already worships her in every way after all.

"Mhmmmm.. feels s’good Rafey..." she drawls out in a light, airy moan. The mini denim skirt she was wearing pushed up up over her hips as she grinds her soaked pussy against Rafe's rock-solid dick. She's been teasing him all day with that scandalous, pink top. Her perfectly designed chest highly accentuated and the necklace that was once a silver-diamond Playboy bunny gifted to her after winning ‘Playmate of the Year,’ now replaced with a white-gold "R.C." necklace. The 18K diamonds glistening and contrasting perfectly against that flawless skin-tone. He paid a pretty penny for it, he’ll say that much.

"That's right my little star, grind that pussy right on daddy." Rafe grunts out, his big hands gripping tightly into her curvy hips. Cobalt eyes cutting deep into her; his focus solely on her and her only. She has her head thrown back, plump lips parted around squeaky moans and airy whines. Her swollen clit bumping against his pretty pink tip. Feeling the streams of pre-cum make her already soaked pussy even messier. "You look so fucking gorgeous..." he drawls deeply, bringing a hand to her face, four fingers pressed against her left cheek as his right thumb grazes over that pretty, luscious pout that looks even more taboo from the swelling and his spit still dripped down her chin due to their earlier make-out.

She parts her perfect lips, and that gives Rafe the opportunity to press his thumb into her mouth, the pad of his finger running down the length of her tongue as she opens her eyes too look at him. She brings a dainty hand to grab his wrist attached to the hand on her face, gripping it lightly as she makes eye contact, she bites the tip of his thumb softly, a cheeky smile spreading on her face as she begins to lower her mouth to take it all the way in. Holding eye contact as she gives his thumb a quick suck.

"Keep it up and daddy will stop being so nice." growls Rafe his already rock-hard dick practically stone from how turned on he was. More pre-cum leaking out and adding to the mess already between her legs. His grip on her hip tightens, locking her in place. Sure to leave behind bruises in the shape of his fingertips. He removes his thumb from her mouth, sliding it down her lips and bringing a string of her spit with it. Adding onto the mess he previously made on her chin. He then grips her throat tightly. Pressing his dick harder against her pussy and grinding his hips into her rhythmically. Watching as her eyes roll wildly again and her head tips back. Smooth neck already littered with his bite marks.

"Fuuuuuck." he says in a drawn out deep, throaty groan. “Get me going so fucking bad, don't even need to be in that tight little hole and you already got my dick so fucking hard." He says harshly. Shit- Rafe had stamina. He's fucked plenty of girls on the island into whimpering messes, legs shaking and gasping for air while he maintains his composure. But she gets him going like no other. All his nerve endings ablaze.

He's still got a grip on her throat, and hand gripping her hip as his eyes now watching intensely where they're pressed together. Watching with intensity how her cute clit peaks out and bumps against his tip, strings of their arousal clinging erotically. He's so entranced, loving how her pussy lips get more swollen the more she grinds against him. Her smooth, toned tummy contracting with her heavy breathing and the contours of it bending beautifully as she grinds her hips back and forth.

When he looks back up though, his breath stops and he feels starstruck. His biggest fantasy already looking down at him, her pretty manicured hands gripping the sides of those busty tits as she massages and pushes them together. Plump lips parted as she moans, eyes low and hazed over with lust, voluminous hair falling messily around her perfect face.

"Aaah-fuck! Shit y/n!” groans out Rafe, his slim, toned thighs tensing tightly as he digs his heels into the bed. Stomach clenched and his hips rutting up off the bed taking her up with him as he grinds even harder against her. Head pressing deeper into the pillow behind his head, eyes clenched tightly. Thick-white ropes of cum shooting across his toned tummy. Leaving a mess as his hips fall back into the mattress. His body loosens with the after shocks of his orgasm. Relaxing deeper into the big mattress. He’s on cloud 9. His eyes are still shut, no longer clenching as he catches his breath. Swallowing deeply with a prominent gulp and only coming back-to when a girly giggle rings through the bedroom.

He opens his eyes, glazed over with bliss to look up at the source. His pretty girl still looking at him with low, lustful eyes as she brings her french-tipped middle finger to her lips, having swiped through the mess on his tummy and sucking his cum off the pad of her finger. Rafe smirks at her, running his fingers over the mess on his stomach, feeding his cum into her mouth with four fingers shoving until she gags. "My little fucking minx," he drawls out. Voice throaty and deep. He takes that hand shoved into her mouth and brings it to the back of her head, hand tangling into her messy hair as he grips harshly pushing her down to meet his lips.

The pair makes-out harshly, gasping and moaning into each other's mouths. Strings of spit exchanging messily, Rafe tasting the remnants of his cum as he nibbles on her swollen pout. He feels her hips beginning to grind again, pulling back to hiss at the feeling on his overstimulated dick.

"You still need daddy to take care of you, don't you baby?" He smirks, left hand coming to grip her right hip as he uses his strength to halt her movements. A whine of dissatisfaction drawing from her throat which he shuts down quickly. “Hey, sshhh” Rafe reprimands, smacking her left cheek lightly with his right hand. Gripping her cheeks immediately after. "Don't start, m'going just give me a sec." Holding her up by the grip he has on her face. He removes the hand from her hip to blindly reach around the bed, grabbing his phone when his fingertips touch it.

“Do that little pose you were doing that made daddy cum so fucking hard," he demands as he opens up his camera app, switching the lens to face her as she leans back and pushes her tits together again. Lips parting seductively and suggestive as she tilts her head to the side. Messy hair framing her face as her low, lustful eyes look into the camera.

“That's it princess, do what you know best," he praises, snapping the picture before tapping onto the gallery to admire his work. Biting his lip when he sees how perfectly erotic she looks in the picture. Pride swelling in his chest at the fact that he gets to call her all his. His initials lying inbetween those perfect tits, his marks littering her throat and chest, his spit dripping down her chin. Her once perfectly put together appearance now completely disheveled all because of him.

“Shit,” he says with a smile. Continuing to admire his work and the picture he knows he’ll make his lock screen. Shutting up her whining when his attention strays from her too long. She’s so desperate to cum.

“You really were made to be in front of a camera babygirl.”

[elysianightsss]

Limerence | One

C H A P T E R O N E

limerence / lim-ê-rêns / (noun)

“Obsessive romantic attraction towards another person”

Summary: In which the owners of Jujutsu Incorporated, the Ôgami brothers, are suddenly interested in you.

Pairing: Alpha!Sukuna x reader, Alpha!Itadori x reader, Alpha!Gojo x reader, Alpha!Geto x reader, Alpha!Nanami x reader, Alpha!Kenjaku x reader

Status: Ongoing.

Genre: werewolf au, soulmate, polyamory relationship, angst, fluff, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics.

Warnings: smut, violence, mentions of knotting, heats, ruts, insecurities, some descriptions of reader’s body, mention of possible ED, omegaspace, domdrop, swearing, blood, depression, suicidal thoughts, possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, Alpha tendencies.

Chapter warnings: self hatred, insecurities, mentions of insomnia, anxiety, depressive thoughts, Sukuna being a little shit, reader being sick, anxiety medication.

Masterlist | Teaser 1 | Chapter 2

Taglist: @better-imagination-9 @tiredjuniper @jjkz @honeybeeboobaa @cherryblossomdelusion @dependsonthedream

Taglist is open.

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Happiness is a fickle creature. A constant companion to some, hides herself entirely from others. She’s been an elusive creature to you. You don’t particularly remember the last time happiness had visited you, it had been so long since she’d hidden herself away, you barely remember what she looks like.

Nevertheless you feel yourself still seeking her out, even if you’re wholly against putting yourself into situations that are good for you. Why would you when you don’t deserve for her to find you. Maybe she never will and maybe that’s all you’re worthy of.

The distress and utter despair you always feel are now numbing agents to you. It feels like a heavy weight on your shoulders weighing you down so intensely but you should be used to it by now. It’s been years. You’ll be celebrating the ten year anniversary soon.

Ten years since you had parents. Over ten years since the world went to shit. Years of being thrown around the foster system, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere, never feeling wanted. The people who took you in just wanted the money that came with you.

You tried your hardest despite being moved around constantly and being part of shitty families, to study your best. To get good grades and have good attendance. You could say you threw yourself into your school work so one day you’d be smart enough to leave wherever you were.

The bullies certainly liked to choose you as their target, and despite some teacher’s best interests, the bullies always got to you.

Even when you graduated and went to university, you were still bullied, though again you worked hard and kept to yourself.

You graduated university and got the first job that was offered to you, an assistant editor at the best publishing company there was; Panda. Your job kept you busy and allowed you to not only support the publisher but also the commissioning editor with development and delivery of a manuscript.

You also worked closely with authors and editors, supporting the editor with admin help and coordinating with other departments such as sales and production. With reading all the manuscripts, it allowed you to fall into the worlds authors had made. It let you take your mind off of the reality you faced.

So wrapped in your self loathing and hatred you almost missed the alarm telling you to ‘wake up’ though you’d been awake for hours. Insomnia really is a bitch. You were slow getting up and ready, but your early alarm prepared for that. The kitchen floor was freezing against your feet, you practically ran to get your glass of water and anxiety medication.

Taking your time you grabbed your outfit for the day, a black Solid Cable Knit Sweater Vest With a white Blouse underneath, and black slacks to match. Removing your house slippers, you pulled on your ankle socks and slipped your feet into a pair of black loafers. A little gold chain across the tops of the shoes, easily matching the gold chain bracelet you wore.

Not bothering with a jacket, you simply grabbed your bag and the manuscript you finished before leaving your little apartment.

On your walk to work you passed cute bakery’s with mouth watering smells emanating from them. If only you had the time and money to get a sweet baked good, they all looked so delicious.

A frown slipped onto your face as you approached Jujusu Incorporated Headquarters, the tallest building in the city, the biggest being The Jujutsu incorporated training compound. The Ôgami brothers really have done so much for, not only the country but also the world.

Too bad they weren’t around when all this werewolf mess started. It would have stopped your tragedy. You stared up at the massive sky scraper, no expression on your face, it stayed that way even after you walked away.

In said building, Sukuna relaxed back into the black swivel chair, his body tired and in desperate need of rest. He was reaching close to his limit, he would soon pass out from exhaustion he knew that much. Being more than a little irritable and moody, it was like Christmas Day when his easy to wind up brother walked into Kento’s office.

“Saw you on tv pisshead, you have fun?” Sukuna taunts his older brother with a dirty grin plastered on his face, one of his sharp eyebrows arched. Satoru sighs glancing at the face Sukuna was making, it grated on him, causing an itch to settle in his nerves. Gritting his teeth to do his best not to show the younger that he was affected.

“It was riveting.” Satoru spat running a hand through his white hair as he walked further into the big office, “Don’t be jealous Sukuna. I know you don’t like the spotlight but I love it. I’d appreciate you putting aside the competitive little narcissist that rages within you and letting me savour it.” Satoru had a grin of his own now, knowing he hit a nerve too.

Sukana growled deep within his chest, the noise causing Satoru to challenge him with a growl of his own. “Enough brothers.” Kento scoffs at the display of childish behaviour, “Satoru, the public is pleased with our imagine because of you. You should be proud of your achievements.”

“Thank you Kento.” Satoru nodded his head toward the pack Alpha, the sides of his lips curving up in the tiniest of smiles.

“Kiss ass.” Sukuna scoffed with a roll of his sharp red eyes. Kento shot him a small glare, being pack Alpha had its perks. Each of his brothers had to obey him, nothing to do with being the eldest to. Kento was simply born pack Alpha, his personality traits were that of a pack Alpha and his scent reeked of his leadership.

“Let’s wait for the rest of the pack before we start with the kiss ass comments, Yuji isn’t even here yet.” Satoru joked, a smirk playing on his lips causing his brothers to smirk in turn. Almost as if he knew, Yuji, Kenjaku and Suguru walked through the large double doors.

Kento pulled off his armless glasses dropping them on the desk, “So now that we’re all here, we can begin our weekly meeting.”

“Saw you on tv-“

“Shut up Kenjaku.” Kento cut Kenjaku off.

“Already said it.” Sukuna laughed his head thrown back at the similarity between his brother and him. You’d think that Sukuna and Yuji, and Suguru and Kenjaku would be the most similar due to being sets of twins however they could not be less alike.

“Let’s just get started so we can get on with our days yes?” It was rhetorical, “great.” Kento answered himself, joining his brothers as they all took their seats at the table. He went over, press statements about the company. New Alphas that are one route to be transferred. Alphas that are graduating their training. And an upcoming interview at Panda.

“Don’t they publish books?” Suguru questions looking down at the list of things Kento was reading out.

“They’re branching out, wanting to get involved with the news and since the owner of the company is a close friend of mine, I’ve agreed for one of us to do an interview.” At this Satoru looked up his bright blue eyes harshened by a frown.

“One of us? But that’s my job.” He squeezed his hands together.

“Yes but you’ve spent the past two months travelling for publicity and away from your pack as well as your home. You will be resting for two weeks, remember strain on yourself…”

“Puts strain on the pack.” The entire pack spoke the last sentence, all of them nodding in agreement.

“Fine then who’s it going to be?”

-

You’d arrived to work on time and after fifteen minutes of being there, you wished you’d called in sick. The whole building was going crazy, people running from one place to another. You felt severely overwhelmed and overstimulated, it was taking a second for your brain to comprehend everything. Usually work was slow, a few meetings that were a slightly faster pace, but all in all work was slow.

This right now was crazy. That was the only word you could use for it. Then it got worse.

“I need you to do an interview.” Mr. Panda, your boss, didn’t ask but demanded. You knew you didn’t really have much say but a small part of you wanted to argue against it, that wasn’t your job. You nodded anyway taking the list of questions he had handed you.

You watched him walk away with a sick feeling clawing its way up your throat, it burned and tasted of chemicals. Maybe you should’ve had breakfast this morning before you took your meds. Anxiety swirls around your head and in turn has your stomach flipping, your feet are moving and before you can process you’re over the toilet dry heaving.

A tiny bit of sick comes out, your face scrunches up with the horrible taste. You pant hard as you come to terms with what’s happened, your body shaking while you try to calm your mind. Tears threaten to spill onto your cheeks, you try to control your shuddering breath. Picking yourself up and dusting yourself off, you flush the toilet and head to the sink to wash your hands and mouth out.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you notice how dark the bags are under your eyes, how small and frail you look, how lifeless your eyes look. You are the perfect representation of how dead you feel inside.

As if your brain picked the most unimportant thing to worry about instead of being critical of yourself, you realised you didn’t have the interview questions with you anymore. Sighing you left the bathroom and went back to the main office area.

You spot them on the floor, thank goodness they’re still there, you think as you make your way over to them only for someone to grab them first. Irritation settles in your bones, you huff annoyed before looking up at the thief who stole your interview questions, more like the thief who took your breath away.

Your heartbeat was pounding in your chest, so loud that was all you could hear. Your cheeks were tinted pink and you felt flustered the longer the man in front of you stared down at you with his piercing red eyes. His lips were slightly parted, pink hair messy and he. was. big. You felt so tiny with the way he towered over you, your omega for the first time in ten years let you know of her existence with a deep purr.

It had his wolf purring too. Sukuna prided himself on control. Control over his body, mind and wolf. Yet one simple look at you and he felt his control slipping out of his possession. His wolf snarled inside him, the usually peaceful barrier between the beast and man already breaking. His wolf desperate to get out, mark you as his. Claim you.

“Ah I see you two have already met.” Mr.Panda comes over with a smile, “It’s good to see you Sukuna. This is the woman who’s going to interview you.”

Sukuna hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for a second even when you looked at your boss while he spoke. Mr.Panda introduced you to each other, hearing your name, Sukuna did everything in his power to stop his eyes from rolling back into his skull, instead the rubies moved down your body.

You were truly beautiful, his wolf wanting nothing more but to sink his teeth into your delicious thighs. Your luscious, sweet chocolate scent made him want to devour you mind, body, and soul. He knew immediately, by your scent that you were his mate.

The interview was intense, he never looked away from you. He was always studying something, your eyes, your thighs, your figure, everything. It made you squirm in your seat, it had you uncomfortable and self conscious yet you felt adored at the same time. It was a confusing new feeling to you, it made you wonder where it had come from.

You stumbled over every question, your hands shook as you wrote down his answers. You weren’t scared just so incredibly nervous, no one had ever made you feel this way before. Sukuna asked you if you had anymore questions, all you longed to ask was if his heart was beating as fast as yours but you were too afraid to hear the answer.

“N-No I don’t,” You stuttered, “that was the last one.” You looked relieved but he looked disappointed. Quickly you stood, bowed to him and rushed out of the room, you were basically jogging to get back to your office when you felt a strong hand on your shoulder spin you around, he pulled you in close, you began to tremble all over. You felt his warm breath against your lips, red eyes staring at yours intensely.

“T-This is highly inappropriate.” You tried to look anywhere but his beautiful eyes as he spoke.

“Maybe for regular people.” He nodded in agreement, then his voice took on a deeper octave, “But certainly not for my mate.”

[shabbytigers]

good thing i didn’t know about the DLAB, the U.S. military foreign language aptitude test, till now. had i acquired that information at a plausible age, i might very well have ended up working for mfucking Defense because this is the greatest test in the world. look at it!

first of all this is gold. it’s hands down the funnest kind of question i’ve ever seen. are there prep books. does it have a name i can use to scour the internet for puzzles

but what’s amazing is that it’s authentically fucked up. janky, if you will. like, i think i can see what choices are the best of those provided, but they do not feel like great, lucid, this-is-so-obvious-now-that-i’ve-thought-it-through, rock solid answers. they feel more like, okay i’m def lost in the rain forest but yeah me and my machete are gonna head in this direction. this, uh, can you call four instances and two tentatives a corpus? this dataset is a goddamn mess. i love it. i said “authentically” because tbh that’s pretty much the flavor of the feeling i have wading chest deep into one of the trickier thickets in a real existing foreign language, albeit one with fewer actual cryptids

—

we’re dealing with wo/wohin/woher prepositions in German and it’s an overt swamp; there’s a desultory table but they obviously got demoralized and punted. drilling a lot of examples—gehen zum Arzt, sein beim Arzt, kommen vom Arzt—may be better than trying to decide rationally, in the middle of a sentence, whether the Kino is more of a building or an activity.

the feeling i get wondering why they chose a skull, specifically, for farkila in this DLAB sample question is very akin to the feeling i get about … look

if a German cat sits on a table, the table is in dative—die Katze springt auf dem Tisch—because the cat is immobile, so it’s answering a where question

if the cat jumps onto the table—auf den Tisch—it’s in accusative, because it’s answering a where-to question

but if the cat jumps off the table, that’s a where-from question, and requires dative. vom [= von dem] Tisch. this is true even though there’s motion involved, and I was told not a month ago that motion = accusative, no motion = dative, using wo and wohin examples. now that woher is here the entire fucking heuristic is broken and i feel gaslighted. how can it be that jumping onto X is accusative but jumping off X is dative?

well, they say, it’s von. von always takes dative.

ok great, two rules in conflict, i’m supposed to just know which one wins, this is like what if order of operations in arithmetic but worse

furthermoar, why vom and not aus dem? onto = auf. on = auf. off (of) = von. feels messy. also, the cat is literally still in midair, so why isn’t this like coming out of the supermarket (physically exiting it) vs coming (to some not immediately proximate place) from the supermarket? well, it’s just different, they say. it would be aus if the cat was jumping out of a container like a cardboard box. but this is a flat surface so it’s von. hope this helps

o yes thank u that helps. i am definitely going to vom

it’s not that much palpably better than farkilam jankov? it makes a kind of unsatisfactory spot sense, if you wrestle assiduously through each example and get to ask annoying questions, but like. The System Is Bad