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thebestofoneshots · 2 days

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 10.7 K Warnings: ANGST! Use of the unforgivables, bIood, major and minor character dеath, major sad moments, mental breakdowns, taking characters to their breaking point, pain, griеf… I’m really sorry. Prompt: What happens when you hear something dreadful happening, will you stand up for what's right? Will you stay quiet for the greater good? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

A/N: This chapter is getting shadowbanned no matter what I change so please like, reblog and comment so it does not go under the radar.

Chapter 44: No One But You

A hand above the water An angel reachin' for the sky Is it raining in Heaven? Do you want us to cry?

Where the hell is the alcohol in this party? You wondered as you stepped out of the room, dealing with Arkalis and Evan was more than enough for the rest of the night. If only you could find a corner, pull out a book and focus on that without being bothered by anything or anyone else, you’d be satisfied. Of course, that could not be the case, could it?

“Well look who’s here?” Barty said with a smile as he blocked your path.

“Oh, Barty!” you said as you tilted your head. “You should probably go look for Evan, he seemed like he needed… a friend.”

Barty’s eyes seemed to burn when you spoke, but you stood your ground, even as he approached you with ferocity. He might be as tall as you were, even if younger, and he might have been able to overpower you in the past, but he was not about to make a scene in the middle of the party, he wasn’t dumb, he had never been. And clearly, he wasn’t important enough for the deatheater clique to be at the private dinner, he didn’t need unwanted attention.

“If you did something to him again…” he said, voice low and threatening.

You blinked calmly at him, “Barty… in this party, you should be careful with the things that come out of your mouth.” He grabbed onto your wrist, anger clearly seething from him. “I didn’t touch him,” you said as you looked down at his hand and then back at his face, “I’d suggest you’d have the decency of doing the same.”

Then you felt a hand on your shoulder, Barty finally let go of his hold on you but stayed in his place, glaring now at the person standing behind you.

“And I would suggest you turn the fuck away before I hex you again. Remember where you are Crouch. This might be Arkalis’ dinner, but my father was the one to invite Tom here.”

Barty gave you another look of hatred and then stormed off. You sighed and turned back to look at Regulus.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, eyebrows softly knit in concern.

“No,” you said as you shook your head and moved your hand a little bit, it was the same arm Evan had latched onto you earlier, but frankly, after having fallen from your broom, punched by bludgers, dragged by water spirits and scratched by werewolves, this felt like nothing. “Is there Firewhiskey here?”

“Firewhiskey?” Regulus asked in disbelief. “You want to drink?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never sneaked out Firewhiskey from your father’s stash.” Regulus gave you a look in return that was answer enough. “So, you’ve never drunk?”

He shook his head and you laughed at that, “Such a good boy,” you teased. In response, Regulus pushed you to the side, which only made you laugh a little more. “Let’s find some,” you said with a smile, Regulus tilted his head to the side disapprovingly.

“It’s a terrible idea to do it here,” he responded.

“Come on, Reg, there’s no way you want to see whatever the hell those people consider to be a show, do you?”

Regulus averted your gaze, and you narrowed your eyes at him. Does he know something…

A glass of cold water over your dress diverted your thoughts. “Oh, sorry,” the girl said, she had a streak of white hair pulled back behind her ears and looked far from being sorry.

Your dress was black, so whatever she had poured, certainly didn’t ruin the look, even if it was fucking freezing you now, “Whatever, I’ll just use a drying spell,” you said as you pulled your wand out and waved it over your dress.

“You’re Silas’ daughter, aren’t you? You were sitting next to Lucius at the dinner.”

You turned to her with a small frown, she was the girl talking to Barty earlier, the one that looked like Sirius and Regulus. You extended your hand politely, “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.”

She seemed irritated at your lack of recognition. “This is my cousin Narcissa, Cygnus’ daughter,” Reggie said, introducing her to you.

Cygnus’ daughter… Where had you heard that name? Right, Andromeda’s sister, you thought. You hadn’t spoken much to Andromeda Tonks, though Sirius and Remus had shown you some of her letters. As far as you knew, she had been kicked out of the family in the same way Sirius had, and her sisters had done nothing to help them. But then again, Regulus hadn’t helped Sirius either and you didn’t hate him for that.

“Nice to meet you,” you added, she gave you a look before actually shaking your hand.

“You’re dating Sirius,” she added, her tone making it clear that she looked down on you for it.

“Cissy,” Regulus said in a warning tone.

“I am, he’s delightful, you should know since you grew up together.”

She scoffed. “Sirius is a disaster. He would always spark chaos and make stupid pranks on the parties, I’m glad he’s not invited anymore. He wears that awful leather jacket all the time, pretending to be a muggle or whatever and he’s insufferably loud.”

“All of which I find absolutely charming,” you replied with a nonchalant smile, “You do not?”

Cissy, as Regulus called her, scoffed again. “Just stay away from Lucius,” she added before leaving you and Regulus behind in favour of talking with someone else, her long hair flipping behind her in a rather majestic way that you would have praised had she not been a total bitch to Sirius. It must be in their genes, you thought, the Blacks have amazing hair.

You turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “The hell was that about?”

“Lucius is her fiancé, she must have seen you talking to him at the dinner,” Regulus said. “You… looked very interested in whatever he was telling you.”

“Oh, that?” You asked with a smile that turned into a smirk, “I was trying to piss Evan off.”

“I figured.”

“Not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an offence.” Regulus raised his eyebrows at you and you gasped in disbelief. Then you spotted someone serving themselves a drink over in the far corner, it was the bar. You smirked, “Come on Reg, I’ll teach you how to drink.”

“I don’t need to–”

“Just come,” you added and pulled him along with you, you managed to convince the house elf there to give you a half-empty bottle of Fire Whiskey after telling them Arkalis had asked you to take them to him and pulled Reggie along towards a balcony.

“It’s cold,” he said as the two of you stepped out, you could see the puff of condensed air blowing from his mouth as he spoke.

“This’ll warm you up,” you said as you offered him the bottle. He gave you an exasperated look that was an awful lot like Sirius’ but took the bottle in his hands anyway, taking a small sip and scrunching up his face as he felt the bitter taste. Then he coughed and covered his mouth with his arm as he returned the bottle to you with a disgusted frown, you were laughing so much it took you a second to lean closer to him and place your hand on his back. “You all right?”

“No wonder they call it Firewhiskey,” he said as he managed to catch his breath. You laughed again, still rubbing your hand over his back, he shook his head as he stood straight. He was a deal taller than you now, it hadn’t quite settled back in school, but it was evident now. “Why would you even drink it?”

“Do you not feel warmer?” you asked as with a raised eyebrow, he seemed to think about it for a second. You were now taking your own sip of the bottle.

“A warming spell would for sure do the trick.”

You sighed and leaned over to look at the sky, you could see Sirius’ star up there, shiny and beautiful, just like him. Walburga and Orion might have been awful, but they definitely had a good eye for picking out names, even if they were just copying those of the stars.

“Yeah, but it would take away the fun,” you said, head still tilted up and looking at the sky. You heard a few whispers from the inside, and you leaned your head over the window, there were people crowding a certain area of the room. Regulus stepped in between you and the window.

“How’s school going?”

You gave him a look, that was a stupid question.

“I mean, I saw you at the Slug Party, you’ve been doing good at potions, haven’t you?” he pressed.

“Haven’t I?” you asked with a frown, allowing your gaze to turn back to him. “It’s all thanks to my partner, he’s really good?”

“Sirius?” Regulus asked, he had never heard of his brother being remarkably good at potions.

“What? No, my potions partner, Remus.”

“Ah… of course,” he said, now he had heard how good his brother’s best friend was. He was even a prefect.

“But I’m shit at transfiguration,” you said with a shrug. “I don’t think Minnie and Horace are friends enough to discuss such things, though.”

“I could teach you,” he offered.

“Thanks, but I’ve already got a tutor.” You tilted your head to the side to try and see inside and then he moved, blocking your line of sight again. “Regulus?”

“Yeah?” he asked, playing dumb.

“You know what’s happening there, don’t you?”

He swallowed thickly, “Nothing you should be concerned about, it’s adult stuff.” You shook your head as that and motioned to move inside but he stopped you again. “Please!” He sounded desperate. “Let’s stay here, and drink a bit more, I’m… I’m not looking forward to seeing my parents again.”

You sighed, you knew how delicate it was for both Regulus and Sirius to deal with Walburga and Orion, and perhaps you shouldn’t have listened, you should have followed your instinct and walked inside, but there was something about the pleading expression Regulus had made that convinced you. You huffed out a breath and turned back to him. “How’s school for you? Messing with Severus didn’t put you on the spot, did it?”

Regulus shook his head and carefully moved to the side, pulling his wand from his pocket and secretly casting a spell towards the doors so the sounds from the inside wouldn’t filter to the outside. You were looking at his face, so determined to figure out his emotions that you failed to notice what he was doing.

“Not at all,” he responded. “Severus thinks it was all your fault.”

You pouted at that, “How could it even be my fault, he’s the one that ate the snacks, I didn’t even offer them to him.”

Regulus laughed at that, “So you had nothing to do? No emotional manipulation involved?”

“What do you take me for? A housemate?”

“Haven’t you been saying you ‘missed the whole indoctrination’ part by getting to Hogwarts so late?”

“Doesn’t change the fact the snakes can be very manipulative. You know the muggles think they’re to blame for losing paradise.”

Regulus huffed as he shook his head, he was just proving your point right then and there, “Well, I’ve never met a snake with ‘Vixen’ as a nickname.”

“You know about that?” you asked in disbelief. “How do you even know about that?”

“The entire school knows about that! Potter isn’t exactly subtle when he calls you. To be honest, I thought he was pissed the first time I heard it, and then I was surprised you weren’t insulted by it.”

“It’s an inside joke.”

“I could tell,” he responded and then smirked, almost imperceptibly, “I think it fits.”

“Ass,” you said with a laugh and pushed him lightly. He laughed along with you.

Talking with Regulus was fun, he told you more about the Slytherin common room, he mentioned seeing the giant squid through their window once when he was in his second year studying for a quiz late at night, and he told you about the time he had done the quidditch trials, back when Dorcas was still in the team. He asked you about the race, and you told him that’s when you and Sirius got together.

You also told him about some of the fun things you had done with the boys, like picnics near the lake and even sneaking out at night to get books from the forbidden section. He asked you to teach him the disillusionment charm one day, and you promised you would.

While the rest of his family was a piece of work, you thought Regulus had come out as nice as Sirius, even if a little more stuck up. You didn’t mind though, it was part of his own charm. He’d make a great brother-in-law…

“And then Solacis added the last ingredient of the potion, and it blew up on their faces…” he told you with a smile, mimicking the explosion with his own hands. The alcohol had warmed his cheeks and made him a lot more expressive by now. You laughed along with him.

“Yeah? And what did Slughorn do?”

“Nothing, he was being distracted by Nox so they wouldn’t fail the both of us,” he explained. “Nox added dragon breath to his potion and it clogged the entire classroom with purple smoke.”

“For real?”

He nodded excitedly, it was nice to see Regulus more relaxed, “Nox thought it was amazing and tried switching the ingredients around, he now knows how to make smoke of almost any colour, we’ve used it on parties so many times since then.”

“I had no idea Nox was that into potions…”

“Oh, he loves them! Slughorn doesn’t like him too much though, he’s always doing his own experiments in the back of the classroom instead of focusing on the class, and often ends up changing the potions around and–” a harrowing scream cut through his words.

Your head snapped towards the inside and Regulus blinked a couple of times. His spell! It had worn out.

But I’m not that drunk, he thought, he was certainly having fun, but that was just a consequence of hanging out with you.

“What the hell was that?” you asked as you looked inside, but he stood in between you and the door in a second.

You gave Regulus a stern look but he shook his head really fast, he looked nervous, like a kid that had done something terrible and didn’t want his parents to find out.

“Regulus,” you said as you tried to look over his shoulder, but he moved to block your sight again. “Regulus, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. You… you don’t want to know, just trust me.” It was more a plea than anything else.

You took a step back, “Have you been distracting me?”

Regulus swallowed and then nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” You asked, voice dry.

“I don’t want you to see what’s happening in there.”

“And…”

“Your mum might have implied I’d be better this way as well.”

You nodded, you weren’t angry at Regulus, at this point you understood why he did most of the things he did, and you knew whatever he was doing now, it was because he wanted to protect you from his parents and whatever it was they were doing.

“Will you tell me what’s happening inside?”

“Will you promise not to enter if I do?”

You sighed, “You know I cannot do that, Reg.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Yeah?! For me or for the person screaming?”

“If you do anything reckless–”

You squared your shoulders, determined. “Regulus, let me in.”

He didn’t move. You tried to move to the side and he moved along with you, effectively blocking your way again, you scoffed, slightly exasperated.

“Regulus, I–” You were interrupted by another harrowing screaming, and then a silence so eerie it chilled your very bones. You looked at him, straight in the eyes, his eyes were red-rimmed and shiny, you were about to ask him what the hell was going on when a cheer erupted from the inside. All of the wizards were clapping, as if whatever had happened was cause for celebration.

Regulus winced at that which only made you worry more about what was happening inside.

“You don’t need to see that, trust me,” he repeated. Thunder came from above and then a smokey green skull appeared in the sky. There was a snake protruding from its mouth, slowly swirling around the skull. You swallowed, you knew exactly what that was, Seraphina had shown you pictures, and she had told you that one of the reasons they’d cast that spell was because… they had just murdered a muggle.

You swallowed thickly, the scream, the silence, the cheering. It all made sense now. They had been tоrturing someone and you had been distracted, you weren’t even given the chance to stop it. But then again, could you have stopped it? One person –nay, a 6th year– against an entire army of deatheaters, you might have been a good duelist, but you weren’t narcissistic enough to believe you could take them all down by yourself

Perhaps it really was better to be out here, avoiding the reality that was inside and hanging out with the one person in this entire party that you’d actually want to talk to. You didn’t appreciate being tricked, you hated that Regulus had decided to keep you in the dark, but at the same time, you were thankful. He had spared you from having to witness whatever horrors were being committed inside.

You were just a kid, why was it your responsibility to stop it? Why was it your war to fight? It was fucking unfair.

“Trust me,” Regulus said, “stay here, it’s better this way.”

You swallowed, and there was another scream, you shut your eyes and turned your gaze to the side, you could feel tears prickling in your eyes.

“It’s not your fault, you won’t be able to do anything, even if you witness it.”

You turned back to look at him, your teeth pressed so hard against each other it hurt, “They’re kiIling muggles,” you whispered.

Regulus sighed, his eyes were just as glassy as yours, “We can’t do anything about it.”

You huffed and looked at nowhere in particular. There was another scream, and then another one, and then there was silence and cheers. You sank down to the floor, the snake in the sky was still crawling around. Your breath was slow and controlled as if you were trying to keep it together. The first scream, you couldn’t have blamed yourself for it. The first one out? You had no idea. But this one?

You already knew what was happening and chose to stay outside with Regulus. You chose to ignore it and an innocent had diеd. Were you any different from your father now? He had sacrificed Sirius and Regulus for his political means –and he hadn’t even gotten them kiIled– and now you were letting those innocent people diе.

For what? To be the perfect daughter? To play the part they asked you to play and then pretend like nothing had happened? To write a letter to Nightshade and Dumbledore telling them everything that had happened tonight and becoming a valuable asset? A spy? Was that what you wanted to be? Was that what you were meant to do? Was it worth it to let all these people diе, in order to win the war in the future? Were lives exchangeable like that? One life for a hundred, does that… make it worth it?

There was another harrowing scream and then silence and then more cheers. You dug your head on your knees.

You

Were

Heinous

As much as you considered your father to be.

Was stopping a war, winning a war, any different from the way he coveted power? Was it any difference in doing things for the greater good to doing things for power if the casualties were exactly the same? People were dying, and you were too much of a coward to do anything about it. Hiding behind a mask of righteousness and pretending it was all for the greater good –It was, but it didn’t feel right.

Sacrificing innocents was never okay, not even for the greater good, and yet… you were here, crouching on the floor, and wishing you were somewhere else, wishing you hadn’t heard that first scream, and that Regulus was still telling you about Nox and how good he was in potions and so on. You wanted to feel like things were normal, like there wasn’t a war; like you were a normal teen, not one being trained to be a soldier, a spy, a warrior.

Was it selfish to wish for all of this to go away? To wish to be elsewhere? Were you selfish? And if you were then, for what?

For letting innocents diе or for wishing you were ignorant about it?

There it was, the eerie silence again. And then a wicked laugh. “Would you look at that? the little witch has claws?”

The what she said?

You turned your head to Regulus and the look he gave you in return made you instantly know that whatever was going on inside was as much of a surprise to him as it was to you.

“Reg wha– What does she mean by witch?”

“I–” he stuttered and turned to look back, there wasn’t much he could see, except for Bella’s black hair bouncing around as she said something else. “I’m not sure but–”

“Filthy mudblood!” the same voice roared and then there were screams.

But there was something about those screams, they were different from the rest… And not because it was a witch but because… you gasped when the realisation hit you –you knew that person.

“Nina,” you whispered.

“What?” Regulus asked, confused.

“That’s Nina!” you repeated as you stood up and tried to get inside.

Regulus squared his shoulders to block your path, and then gently placed his hand on your arm, “There’s nothing you can do, forget it.”

“They have kilIed muggles, Regulus. What’s stopping them from doing the same thing to her?”

Regulus shook his head, “You cannot intervene, even if you know her.”

“Even if I– Regulus, Nina’s my friend! Like you, like James! I would intervene for you, even if it did nothing.”

“It would be stupid,” he replied, there were tears in his eyes, you could tell his mental struggle ran as deep as yours.

“If it were me, would you just wait and let me diе?”

Regulus closed his mouth, looking down while not being able to give you an answer. You weren’t sure you wanted to hear it either way.

“Let me through, please.”

“I wouldn’t let you diе,” he said, panic filling his voice, he felt like he had to reassure you, he wasn’t the evil one here, he just wanted to protect you. “But I’ve known you for years, you’re my brother’s girlfriend, it’s different,” his voice was filled with panic.

“It’s not different for me,” you said as you shook your head, a sombre tone adorning your words.

“I can’t let you go in,” he replied, his voice breaking towards the end. “I’m sorry.”

You pulled him into a hug, you could sense him relax into your hug the second you did. She understands, he thought.

“I’m sorry too,” you whispered with a sad smile, he didn’t have enough time to react, “Petrificus totalus.”

You caught him as he fell, his entire body leaning onto yours as you tried to hold him from hitting the ground. Regulus was a lot heavier than he looked but you managed to open the door again and drag him back inside. You smiled awkwardly at the person who spotted the two of you and lifted the bottle as an excuse. If they thought Reggie was passed out drunk, they wouldn’t think you’d charmed him to get in. The person nodded as if completely understanding and you dragged Reggie to a chair.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, accommodating him to look asleep.

And then you walked as fast as you could towards her screams.

It took all your strength not to break down at the sight, there were people –not people, their bodies– on the floor. They weren’t covered with bIood or anything like that, it wasn’t gory, it was just… harrowing. At least 7 of them, all of them on the floor, horrified expressions on their faces. They probably had no idea why they were there and had been hexed and tоrtured till the light escaped his eyes.

The scene enraptured you so much the screams in the background almost faded out, especially when you saw someone you instantly recognized. The lady at Kings Cross, the one that had hugged Nina, she was there too, you sobbed. You had allowed that to happen, you had allowed them to kilI Nina’s mum because you were too scared to intervene.

“Crucio!” you heard the woman scream again.

You turned your face away from them and towards the turmoil, there were many people crowding around her and Nina, so many that you could barely see the top of her blonde hair, and the only reason you knew Nina was still there was because of her screams. You spotted Tom, Arkalis and the man you now knew as Rodolphus Lestrange all sitting and chatting at a faraway table as if none of it was happening. Tom would often turn to see what was going on, smile and then go back to the conversation with a pleased expression.

You shuddered and tried to find a way through the people. You had to push a few wizards around and got an angry elbow shoved in the rib at some point but you pressed on. Eventually, you reached the edge of the circle, and you had to hold back the tears threatening to spill out as your young friend squirmed, her long hair sprawled all over the floor, and tears in her eyes. She had her mouth determinedly closed and her brows furrowed, she was trying to resist screaming again, all to avoid giving the woman the satisfaction.

“I’ll find a way to help you,” you mumbled as you looked around for possible solutions. If you had had more time perhaps you could have used a mist bomb to create a commotion, if you had more time to think of a solution, perhaps you would have burned the curtains down with incendio or caused some other kind of distraction to drive people away from Nina and sneak her out. But you had no time, and your mind was filled with the stress of seeing poor Nina on the floor, with that heart-wrenching expression on her face, and the soft whimpers that she couldn’t help but let out as she continued holding her cries and the woman with curly hair twisted her wand to inflict more pain.

If you had acted earlier, if you hadn’t let fear and cowardice drive you away from the incident, perhaps things wouldn’t have ended up the way they had, but you had been selfish, and you were now facing the consequences of your own decisions, them being mainly the mental strain and the stupidity of the action you were about to commit.

“CRUCIO!” the woman shrieked again. “Come on luv, don’t be shy, we want to hear your cries.”

She twisted her wand and Nina let out an agonising cry. This can’t continue, she’s not gonna last.

“Come on little mudblood, cry louder!” the woman said, enjoying herself so much you felt like you wanted to puke. “Entertain us!”

You stepped forward, “Stop!” You shouted.

The woman turned to you and, surprised you had spoken and twisted her wand again, Nina cried, but the moment she spotted you, there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

You raised your wand at her, “I said STOP!”

“Silas’ daughter?” she asked, clearly diverted. “Thought you were snogging my little cousin Regulus somewhere in a corner.”

You held her gaze, “Last warning,” you added.

She laughed haughtily in return, “You think you could do anything to me? What are you? A 4th year?”

You were so focused on the woman and Nina, that you weren’t paying attention to the things surrounding you, at least you had gotten her attention enough to have her stop torturing Nina, who was now struggling to catch her breath.

In the far corner, Orion and Tom had turned to look at the scene with a perturbing interest, as if they wanted to see the bIoodshed that your stupid disobedience would cause. Evan had gripped onto Barty’s forearm and pulled him away from the circle and both of your parents were rushing towards you as fast as you could, but the crowd, which seemed just as interested in the situation, was making it harder for them to reach you.

“None of your fucking business,” you replied. She turned her wand back to Nina and you stepped in her way in two long strides, she laughed again.

“You’re a Gryffindor, aren’t you? There’s no way a Slytherin would be so recklessly stupid.”

“Let her go,” you said sternly. “She’s a witch, just like you.”

The woman laughed again. “She’s as much of a witch as the rest of them,” she said with a smile and pointed at the pile of bodies behind her, “Muggle-borns are abominations that shouldn’t exist. So weak they need real wizards to defend them, don’t they, Luv?” She said the last bit looking at Nina, she was still on the ground, eyes shiny with unshed tears but she held her head high.

“I’m only making things even,” you replied, “do you really feel superior when you need thirty-plus wizards for torturing a 14-year-old?”

The woman scoffed, “Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

“No, but I bet I can guess,” you replied. “Dark curly hair, pretty but dеadly, a little crazy –I assume due to inbreeding– and you were sitting next to Rodolphus, which makes you one of Cygnus’ daughters. I met Narcissa today, and you’re definitely not Andromeda, which leaves out… Saiph? No wait, wrong star, it’s Bella, isn’t it?”

She gave you a deranged smile, “Bellatrix.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you responded. “Now let’s leave this nonsense behind, and–”

“Crucio,” she said pointing her wand behind you, Nina cried again.

“Stop!” you shrieked. “Confringo!”

Bella barely managed to stop your spell and turned to you with rage, “Can someone take care of her?” she asked to no one in particular. Suddenly there were several wands pointing your way, but no one cast a spell. No one was brave enough to attack Silas’ daughter directly.

Bella smiled and pointed her wand towards you, “Expelliarmus,” she said with a smile, your wand left your hand faster than you could react.

She gave you a wicked grin as she pointed her wand at Nina again. She looked like she couldn’t take another moment of it, and you were running out of ideas. “Stop! I have a better prey for you.”

Your father said your name sternly as if he could read your thoughts.

You ignored it completely, “Why bother with a muggle-born when you could be torturing someone who’s mixed-race.”

Your father screamed your name again, but Bella seemed interested enough to lower her wand and look at you, she wanted to know whose life you’d propose instead of Nina’s.

“A mixed-race you said? Whoever could that be?”

“Me!” you said and took a short breath, “I’m part-fairy.” Several gasps echoed in the room followed by whispers of the crowd.

“She’s lying!” your father spat.

“I am not!” You added quickly.

“She’s trying to buy time.”

“I can prove it!” you said desperately. “Use diffindo,” you told one of the people next to you.

“Do not dare to touch my daughter!” your father roared.

You looked around, trying to find Barty or Evan, since you knew neither of them would think twice before hurting you, but they were nowhere to be seen. Worst time to be fucking absent, you thought. No one dared to do it.

“Fine then, bunch of cowards,” you said looking around before bringing your arm to your mouth. You had never done this, but you had practised half transfigurations, you focused all your energy on your mouth and managed to turn your canines into Vixen’s, and then you bit onto your skin and dragged your arm, slicing through it, you didn’t even wince.

“That proves nothing,” Your father said. He was still trying to reach where you were.

“No, it doesn’t,” you responded. You could feel the metallic taste of your bIood in your mouth, you wondered if you looked as deranged as Bella did now. “But this will,” you said and focused your gaze on the cut you’d made, “Revelio.”

A single drop of bIood fell from your arm, everyone witnessed it change colour and clash onto the ground in a shiny, silver drop. There was another collective gasp. Bellatrix cackled and your father looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite pinpoint, a mix of desperation, rage and disappointment.

“Well, well, well,” a voice boomed from the back of the room, “what an interesting little plot twist.” The crowd parted to allow the dark lord to walk towards the centre of the room, he seemed pleasantly entertained. “Silas,” he said as he turned to your dad calmly. “Anything you care to explain?”

You turned to your father, being thankful that everyone’s attention had turned the other way, and looking for someone distracted enough for you to do your next move.

Your father was about to say something but was quickly interrupted by your mother, “He didn’t know! I lied to him.”

Your head snapped back towards them, Why is she–?

“Is that true? Silas?”

Your father stood straighter, looking indifferent. “I had no idea,” he lied blatantly, “I wouldn’t be married if I did.”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit–”

“Silence child,” you were interrupted by the dark lord who was staring at your dad with interest, he hadn’t said the words to the spell, but your tongue was tied, and you couldn’t emit a word anymore either, “the adults are talking.”

You moved towards them when you realised you wouldn’t be able to speak. “Incarcerus,” Tom’s voice boomed and a set of ropes appeared from thin air, binding you to the spot you were currently on. His spell was much stronger than Evan’s had been, it was as if the more you moved the more the ropes tightened around your arms, digging into your skin sharply. Tom turned to your mother. “Elaborate.”

“I met him, I knew he wouldn’t like me if he knew of my heritage so I lied and hid it from him.”

“Well, I find this is the perfect little set-up for you to prove your loyalty,” Tom said with a simple smile. “Torture her.”

What? You thought, head snapping towards your mother sharply, forgetting about the ropes entirely.

Your mother and father exchanged a look, your mom nodded, almost imperceptibly, and then your father raised his wand against her, “Crucio.”

There was a wicked laugh from Bellatrix as your mother sank to the ground and started screaming. You stared at the scene as if petrified. If there was something you had never doubted in the past, it was the love your parents had for each other. How could he– how was it even…

You turned back to the ropes and started to desperately fight against them. When you realised it wasn’t working you went for plan B, you turned into Vixen and jumped as fast as possible, snatching a random wizard’s wand from their hands as you turned back.

Of all the terrible ideas you’d had today, this might have been the worst. You barely had enough control over the spell with your own wand, but you had to do something. You took a deep breath and pointed your wand at Bellatrix, “Pestis Incendium.”

A giant fire exploded out of the tip of the wand you had stolen, prompting the people around you to step back several metres as the fire turned into a massive Chimera. Fiendfyre was a dark and dangerous spell, and you had only practised it in a controlled environment with Nightshade watching your back. But the Chimera you had formed now was bigger and angrier than anything you’d ever created, she was dеadly. The massive winged lion-goat was burning everything in its way as people ran to the sides and attempted to apparate the hell away from the room.

But Evan’s house was charmed against apparitions, a few of them were caught in the fire as they attempted to run, others tried to fight against it, with water spells, but they seemed to do nothing against the angry beast you’d created. The heat quickly filled the room, smoke from burning things wafting through the air and making it harder to see. You searched for your mother, but you couldn’t spot her at all, so you turned back to Nina who was looking at you with an awed struck expression. You picked up a wand from the floor and handed it over to her before helping her up and casting a disillusionment charm around the two of you.

“We need to get out,” you whispered, as you grabbed onto her hand and pulled her along with you. You sped through the running crowds as the curtains and furniture started to catch on fire and remembered you had left Regulus petrified.

You ran towards him, pulling Nina alongside you and finding him still unconscious in the place you’d left him. “Finite Incantatem!” you said and Regulus opened his eyes hastily. He looked around confused and opened his eyes wide when he spotted the giant Chimera behind you, being even more confused when it completely ignored him and turned to the other side. You grabbed onto his arm, leaving traces of bIood over his white shirt, “Get out!”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“I won’t be able to control it for much longer, get out!” you repeated and pushed him towards the window before you pulled Nina to the side again.

She used her wand and started hexing people as you sped through the crowd and toward the window behind the snack area. If you could reach the hedge maze, you’d have enough time to think of a better way to get the hell away from there.

Finally, you spotted your mum again, she was right in front of the Chimera, using relashio in an attempt to slow her down. You raised your want towards your fiendfyre to drag it away from her but there was a spell cast in your direction.

“Stupefy!” Bellatrix said as you fell to the ground, you lost control over the Chimera completely and the beast used one of its paws to crush your mother. You could hear your father’s scream ringing in your ears alongside yours, followed by a sob as tears welled up in your eyes. Bellatrix smiled, “Well, well, well, would you look at that, one little fae gone, and one to go,” she said as she pointed her wand towards you.

You were on the floor, still trying to get a grasp of the situation and attempting to gain control over the Chimera again but it was pointless, she was doing whatever she wanted. Bellatrix smiled and raised her wand towards you, “Avada–”

“Crucio,” Nina shrieked next to you, and Bellatrix instantly fell to the ground, with a cry. Nina’s curse was so strong that the woman continued to scream madly as she pulled onto her hair. “CRUCIO!” Nina repeated. You looked at her in amazement and she gave you a half smile, fear hidden behind her eyes. “She’s not going to touch you ever again,” she reassured and extended her hand your way, you took it and she helped you up. “Ferrum Incarcerus,” she said and suddenly a set of chains bound Bellatrix Lestrange, “Flagrante,” she said next and the woman started to cry in pain as the chains started to heat up and burn. “Call me a Mudblood again, you bitch!” Nina spat, and you recast the disillusionment charm around the both of you.

Clutching to each other you walked all the way to the snack table “Bombarda!” you shouted, the window blew into pieces, and your Chimera went wild, growing wider and wider. You looked back once more, Bellatrix was still crying over the chains. There was a tall man, Cygnus, you assumed, trying to help her out of them, but Nina’s spell was strong and whatever he was doing wasn’t working properly.

You spotted your father clutching the burned remnants of your mom and you stared at the scene almost petrified. You had done that, you had murdered her.

Nina looked at you with tears in her eyes and decided to avoid staring at the pile where she knew her mother’s body would be, focusing on you, and on getting the hell away from that damned hellhole you’d ended up in.

“Come on,” she pulled onto your arm. “We have to go, come on!”

“That–” you said, still looking, the Chimera was bigger now, angrier. “They’re gone.”

“I know,” she said somberly, but then the urgency came back to her, “Come on, they’d want us to get out!” she added as she pulled onto your arm again, this time much stronger, you didn’t move at all. “Hey, look at me!” she added and grabbed your head in between her hands to force you to look at her, Nina might have been younger, but she seemed so much wiser than you at that moment. “This is awful. Things are awful, and it’s unfair. But two things are true: It was not your fault, and we need to get out.”

You tilted your head to the side, she didn’t know, she didn’t know you had ignored her mother’s cries. Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, what a terrible person you were. “Okay,” you managed to say and allowed Nina to pull you alongside her and both of you managed to exit through the window.

The cold was the first thing you noticed, white snow melting into puddles close to the house due to the fire. Messy mud on the floor making the pristine white layer of snow look brown and messy.

There were already Wizards outside, Regulus stood next to his mother and Narcissa, who kept looking inside as if waiting for someone to come out as well. Reggie too was looking around nervously, the last time he saw you, you were still inside and things were chaos.

You took a small stone and threw it towards him, when he turned around you said “Vermillious,” and from the tip of the wand you had stolen, faint red sparks appeared. People weren’t looking your way, and they had been so faint that they were nothing in comparison to the amount of light that came from your blazing Fiendfyre, but you saw Regulus smile and nod your way. You turned to Nina, somehow much more composed than seconds ago. “You like puzzles, don’t you?” you asked her as you nodded towards the hedge maze.

She smiled and gave you a nod, “Let’s get out of here,” she added, and the two of you walked inside. You ran through the maze, staying as close to each other as possible, and jumping from dеad end to dеad end. It truly was a headache, but Nina was as determined to get out as you were, so you followed her lead and continued walking behind her.

“We can’t be too far from the way out, the magic stopping us from apparating is losing power the deeper we go, can you feel it?”

“Yes,” you replied with a smile, and end to the nightmare, finally.

“You can apparate already, right?”

“Kind of,” you replied. “I mean, yes,” you reassured, you’d figure out a way, you’d both get out, you had to.

“Finite incantatem,” someone said when you rounded a corner, and both you and Nina raised your wands against him.

“Would you look at that, charming little butterfly and her mudblood friend,” The man said with a wicked smile, his silver hair flowing behind him. “You really thought you’d get away after causing so much havoc? My fiancé’s father is dеad because of your little ruse.”

“Obscuro,” you spat, ignoring his remark and going straight for defence.

“Protego,” he returned. “Stupefy!”

You blocked his spell with practised ease. “Nina behind me!” you said with determination, “Depulso!”

He blocked as well, “Confringo!”

You ducked and pulled Nina alongside you to the ground. His spell went straight to one of the hedges and things started to heat up, quite literally. The snow surrounding the area behind you melted and mixed with the dirt beneath, making mud similar to the one just outside the house.

Lucius taunted and attacked with increasing ferocity, while you fought desperately to defend both yourself and Nina. Spells flew back and forth, lighting up the night with bursts of magic. With each passing moment, the intensity of the duel escalated, fueled by adrenaline and desperation.

There was constant shouting and blocking. The more time passed and the more time you stood your ground against the man, the angrier he seemed to become. And you were tired, the amount of magic you had used up to conjure the Fiendfyre and the fact that she was still distracting and burning things back at the house, even if out of your control, was draining your energy –and magic– at worrying speeds.

Combining that with the charred image of your mother that you desperately tried to bury in the back of your mind, you felt closer and closer to losing your grip and concentration, but you refused to give in, if there was something that you were, even in cases of life and dеath, was stubborn.

“Getting tired, butterfly?” he asked with a cocky smile when he noticed you had almost tripped on a spell.

“Opugno!” you responded, ignoring his taunting. Suddenly the branches of the hedges seemed to come alive as they went straight to get him.

“Deprimo!” he shouted before the spell hit him, and the floor started to shake, both you and Nina managed to step out of the way, on time, but the hole in the ground had now trapped the two of you in a dеad end.

“Reparo!” you shouted, your previous spell had been strong enough to distract him while you attempted to build the ground back up so you could continue.

“Impedimenta!” he shouted, and you were locked in place. When did he even get out of the hedges?

You tried to focus on shaking the charm off while he pointed his wand at you again. You were tired, but you had fought against Nightshade’s impedimenta several times before, and Lucius’ curse was much weaker. Despite that, the amount of magic you had already used had debilitated you and it seemed to require even more concentration than it had done in the past. That didn’t make it impossible.

You were just getting a grip on the knot of magic that seemed to lock you in place when Lucius smiled, still bound by the hedges but gloating at the way you struggled.

“Stupefy Maxima!” he shouted. You braced yourself to receive the spell, but instead, you felt a push from the side and ended up cornered against one of the hedges as Nina fell to the ground right in front of you.

“Nina!” you shouted and dropped to the ground next to her in an instant, then you saw another spell leave his wand. You stared at the red bolt coming straight at you with watery eyes, thinking of all the things you wouldn’t be able to do, of all the things Nina wouldn’t be able to do because you had failed to save her. Anger and sorrow filled your thoughts as you stared at dеath straight in the eyes.

But she didn’t stare back.

Instead, there was a bright, blinding light that lasted no more than half a second, and Lucius was thrown back against one of the hedges. It was as if his wand had backfired the spell on him. You stared at the scene confused, your bafflement increasing only when you spotted Barty Crouch shooting a stunning spell in Lucius’ direction.

You turned back to Nina as the two of them fought the other, “Nina,” you said softly as you placed your hands around her face, her cheeks were cold but there was something gooey and warm behind her hair. As you pulled your hand back to look at it better you realised what it was. You shook your head and as you stared. “No, no, no, no...” you repeated over and over again as you leaned down only to realise she had fallen onto a sharp rock. “No, no… Nina, look at me,” you said, voice wavering.

Her weary gaze turned to you, her eyelids were heavy and tired, but she smiled faintly when she saw you. “You’re okay,” she sighed.

“No, no, no,” you repeated, tears already blurring your sight as you stared at her.

“Go!” she said softly, reassuringly.

“No!” you said again, voice cracking near the end.

She nodded soothingly, “It’s okay, you have to go.”

“Nina, please!” you begged. “We can do something, we can find a way to–”

“Go,” she interrupted you calmly, more secure now. “You’re all right,” she said and smiled, “I can go happy knowing you’ll be alright.”

“You can’t! I won’t leave, not without you,” you replied stubbornly, shaking your head as you said it.

“You can’t stop her now, the bargain’s made, the deal’s done,” she said simply.

“No, please,” you said as you leaned onto her chest and allowed the tears to stream down your face, the girl somehow managed to place her hand over your hair and played with some of the strands with the little strength she had left.

“You know… I’ve been bles-sed,” she said, her breath caught in her throat. “Blessed that you were the last thing I got to see,” she added with a smile, “thank you for saving me.”

You felt her hand go limp over your head and you heard the last beat of her heart boom against your ear. “No!” you cried and stood back up to look at her. She had a pleased and peaceful expression on her face, contrasting completely with her stained blonde hair, and the rapidly changing colour of snow, no longer white, but scarlet. “Rennervate,” you said pointing the wand at her. Nothing. “Rennervate,” you repeated, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Rennervate, Rennervate, Rennervate.”

“Stop it!” you heard Barty say from behind you.

“Rennervate!” you said again, completely disregarding the boy.

“Hey! You need to get out of here, people are coming.”

“I don’t care!” You snapped. And turned back “RENNERVATE!”

“You’re going to diе too! Her sacrifice would be for nothing!”

“Go to hell!” You responded. You felt him trying to pull you away from her. “Get your filthy hands off me!”

“Re- rennervate,” you repeated, it was more a whisper than anything else, a desperate cry, a futile attempt to cling onto something that wasn’t there anymore, that wouldn’t be there no matter what you did. Perhaps you had used up your magic, it was a stunning spell, not a kiIling curse.

But it had also been the fall, and the rock.

“Listen to me!” Barty said as he hauled you up by pushing you against one of the hedges. “She’s gone, and if you don’t move, you’ll be the same! Your stupid spell will do nothing to bring her back!”

“She’s my friend!” you shouted angrily as you tried to pry his hands away from your arms. But Barty was still stronger than you. “She’s my friend, and she’s struggling because of me. I won’t give up on her!”

“THERE IS NOTHING TO GIVE UP ON! SHE’S FUCKING DЕAD!”

Rage filled your gaze as you managed to focus on him again, you tried to push him off of you again, this time with much more determination. When he realised, he smiled and loosened his grip.

“What?” you asked in disbelief.

“Wrath is more useful than desperation,” he retorted. “You need to get out of here.”

You gave one last look at Nina, her pleased expression made her look as if she was sleeping, soft and simple and happy. Could you trick your brain into thinking she was just sleeping if you tried hard enough?

You turned back to Barty wearily, “Why– why are you helping me?” you asked with a wavering voice, emotions raw and unfiltered at this point.

“Evan told me what you did for him. He’s taking care of Lucius and I’m much better at apparating than him.”

You swallowed, distrusting, and turned to the side, Evan was indeed in the distance, performing some kind of spell on the man that had murdered Nina. Your mind was spinning with conflicting emotions. You wanted to lash out, to scream and rage against the unfairness of it all. But there was no use, Nina was dеad and no matter how much you cried about it, you wouldn’t bring her back.

“Look! If it makes you feel better you can hit me–” His words were cut short as your fist connected to his face. “Fuck! I’m trying to help you!” he winced as he reached for his nose. Your fist stung, but clearly, his face did just as much.

“You’ve been an asshole to me for months.”

“And I’m trying to do a good deed, bIoody hell!” he replied with a frown, you glared in return. “Come on, we need to get out.”

“I don’t want to!” You said in a stubborn whisper, you wanted to lean against her and cry until the snow covered both of your bodies and you could forget about it all.

“But she wanted you to,” he replied, there was bIood streaming down his nose, but there was an honesty in his gaze that you didn’t think Barty was capable of. “Allow me to help make her last wish true.”

You swallowed, giving the boy one more weary look, “Can you try?”

“Try?” he asked, confused. He was trying.

“To save her.”

“It’s pointless, if you couldn’t do it–”

“My magic’s weak,” you admitted, despite yourself, it didn’t matter anymore, you didn’t care if Barty or Evan used it against you as long as Nina came back.

The boy sighed, clearly thinking it was pointless, but leaned down next to Nina either way “Rennervate!” he said steadily.

Seconds passed by, agonisingly slow but nothing happened.

You let out a defeated breath, your mind was suddenly empty. You realised if you didn’t want to end up like her, you’d have to pull yourself together somehow. Barty tried again, even if you didn’t ask him, but the result was the same. You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Fine, let’s get out,” you said with a nod. Barty stood up and you tighten your grip around the wand you were holding, taking in a deep breath before pointing it at Nina. “Papilioscorpus,” you said, focusing all of your attention on that one spell.

Suddenly Nina’s body transformed into a heap of small blue butterflies. You held back the sob that threatened to escape by sucking in a breath as the small creatures broke off Nina’s body, one by one until there was no more of her, but hundreds of them.

How unfair it was, that Nina had to diе because she wasn’t a pureblood, you thought, even if Nina would disagree. She didn’t diе because she wasn’t a pureblood wizard, she didn’t diе because they tortured her to dеath, she didn’t diе weak and defenceless and in despair, you had spared her from that fate. No, Nina diеd to save you, and she was pleased with the choice she’d made, simply because she wouldn’t want to live in a world where you didn’t exist.

They flew up, circling you for a second before continuing their path, way above the hedges, and leaving behind the bIoodstained snow in search of somewhere warm.

Barty turned to you with a soft expression and then raised his wand to the butterflies, “Irascor,” he said simply. A protective charm, so they would be safe, even if Nina hadn’t been.

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble, as you saw them leave, not allowing yourself to wallow in the hopelessness you felt at such a stunningly beautiful sight. The snow-covered landscape, the stars shining above in the sky, the small snowflakes falling softly on the ground, all contrasted deeply with how you felt, how broken and in pain you were. You blinked back the tears and turned back to him.

He nodded and cocked his head to the side, indicating you to follow him. It was slow at first, steps into a different direction, away from the bIood, now being covered by a fresh layer of snow, away from Evan and unconscious Lucius.

Eventually, Barty started to pick up speed and you matched his pace, a welcome heat to the cold that had now chilled your bones. The dress you had, while long-sleeved, wasn’t exactly snow-friendly. Your heels long forgotten, left as you took faster and faster steps. The white cool of snow against your heels, helping you focus on anything other than all the previous events.

Barty seemed to know exactly where he was going, and you followed him blindly. The traces of your steps had been long erased by the constant falling snow. If he was leading you to safety or back to the house, what difference did it make at this point?

But then you felt it: the barriers against apparating were gone. “Where should I take you?” He asked softly, softer than you’d expect him to, the two of you breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath.

You blinked, looking around like a lost puppy. You had no mother, your father was a deatheater or something, and your home was probably not yours anymore –not that it had felt like one in the last few years. “I have nowhere to go,” you said the words as you realised their weight.

Barty sighed, he knew what it was like to not belong. To feel lonely and forgotten and like he had to be outstanding to be cared for, to be worthy. He knew what it was to have no place to call home, but he had Evan now. He knew what that felt like, and for the first time since he’d met you, he empathised with you. “Sirius?” he offered, he might not like him, but he knew Sirius was as special to you as Evan was to him.

“He’s with the Potters, you cannot apparate there, you don’t know where it is… It would be too dangerous, for the both of us,” you said steadily, emotionlessly, trying to cling to your analytical side. If you blocked the emotions threatening to boil out of you, if you hid them so deep within your mind that they wouldn’t bother you then perhaps you’d be able to keep moving.

“Secret hideout?”

“I–” then you remembered. “School! Take me to Hogwarts!”

“You can’t apparate there…” he said with a frown. Hogwarts was a brilliant idea though, it would certainly be safer.

“No, but, you can apparate on the Shrieking Shack! You’ve done it before.”

“You want me to take you back, there?” he asked, disbelief laced in his tone.

“Yeah!” you said with a confident nod.

“Are you… sure?” he asked again, perhaps the emotional toll of the night was getting to you.

“Yes! I can get to the castle from there,” you repeated.

He looked at you as if analysing the situation, you seemed pretty sure of yourself, so he nodded, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you closer, Barty was as tall as you, still growing, so you assumed he’d be taller. You ended up hugging each other in the most awkward way possible (a weird sort of hug where neither of you seemed to want to touch each other) before he apparated just outside the shack.

You felt a sense of relief when you spotted the snow-coated building. You had made it this far, against all odds. But was it worth it? With how much it had cost?

Barty gave you one last look, “Can I have the wand?” he asked in a relatively polite tone as he pointed to the wand in your hand. He was being considerate, even for his standards.

“Pardon?” You asked as your grip on the wand tightened.

“I’m going to say I tried to stop you but you apparated away, you’re talented for your age so it’s believable enough. Evan is obliviating Lucius. We’ll try to get your actual wand back–”

“Nina’s,” you said as you handed him the one in your hand. He frowned. “Get Nina’s wand, it’s more important.”

“Why?”

“I can buy another wand, but she… she can’t,” you said, trying not to let your features betray the emotions you felt.

“But it’ll be useless to–” You gave him a mix between a pleading look and a glare, and he stopped his words, “we’ll try,” he conceded.

You smiled weakly, “Thanks.” He was about to leave. “Wait!” you stopped him, a hand on his shoulder, he turned to you, movements soft and calm, he knew you were on edge. “Priori incantatem, they will know you tried to bring Nina back if they check.”

“Give me the wand,” you said and he did as told. “Now take it.”

“Expelliarmus,” he said and the wand you had stolen flew from your hand to his, he caught it in the air with ease. It was surprising how fast he’d caught on to what you meant, but you already knew Barty was brilliant, even if he used said brilliance for evil deeds more often than not.

“And now stun me.”

“What? Are you daft? I’m trying to save you,” he protested with a frown.

“And this is my way of thanking you, you put up a fight against me. Stun me softly if you will–”

“Stupefy!”

Your body reeled back against the gate and ended up on the floor. It had been soft, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Either way, the physical pain was a welcome distraction from the grief that threatened to consume you whole.

“Payback for punching me in the face,” Barty said with a smile as he offered his hand. He was joking.

You scoffed and pushed his hand away, deciding that sitting on the snow was comfortable enough. “Get the hell out before I punch you again.”

His smile only grew wider and he had the nerve to send you a wink before he apparated again. You stared at the empty space he’d left for a while, there was snow all around. Falling and falling in a stunningly, slumbery sort of way. So peaceful and quiet in comparison to how loud and hectic things had been just seconds ago. Even your heartbeat, which had been blasting against your ears, was slowing down.

You stared at the cold white snow, and let your head fall back onto the gate as one of your hands fell on it, pulling some of it up and staring at the way it fell from your fingers lazily. You remembered playing in the snow with the boys, how happy you had been that day, you wondered if you could ever be that happy again.

Ah… how tired did you feel, things were calm now, you weren’t in danger anymore, you sank deeper into the ground, adrenaline dissipating with ease and exhaustion washing over you in waves. You closed and opened your eyes wearily.

The shack, why did you have to get to the shack? You wondered, everything was so peaceful where you were, you liked it, the cold of the snow soothingly numbing the pain, all the pain, not just the physical one. You let a faint smile coat your lips, who’s that in the distance? You wondered, it looked like someone you knew, but paler. Could it be… Nina?

And then you closed your eyes.

And so we grace another table And raise our glasses one more time There's a face at the window And I ain't never, never sayin' goodbye…

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: This chapter is getting shadowbanned no matter what I change so please like, reblog and comment so it does not go under the radar. They're only flyin' too close to the sun

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dystopicjumpsuit · 3 days

Note

Cuddles and Snuggles?! 👀

Sign me up lol

I have a request if you feel inspired by it 👀

6. trying to crawl under their shirt with either Wrecker or Kix.

Because I would very much like to hide under their shirts than deal with the outside lol

If you think of someone that fits the prompt better, then do that instead! (Or you can entirely disregard this ofc lol)

😘💜💜💜

A/N: Moonie! I had this whole ficlet planned out, and then we chatted about this wonderful Wrecker art by @pinkiemme, and it took over my entire brain. So thank you both for inspiring me. 🖤♥️

Pairing: Wrecker x Reader (GN)

Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)

Wordcount: 573

Warnings and tags: fluff, cuddles, established relationship shenanigans, very slightly suggestive dialogue, mild language

Summary: Wrecker is just so warm.

Suggested Listening (English translation here):

This fic smells like: Work From Home by Memoire Archives (cappuccino, caramel, biscotti)

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You rolled over to find an empty bed. You groped blindly through the blankets, but Wrecker was nowhere to be found, and based on how cold the sheets were, he’d been gone a while. Grinding the palms of your hands into your eyes, you sat up, searching blearily for him. There was no sign of him, so you stumbled out of bed to form a rescue party of one. It wasn’t long before you saw the soft blue glow of his datapad as he curled up on the sofa in the darkness.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice coming out in a hoarse croak.

He looked up and smiled. “What’re you doin’ up?”

“I got cold,” you replied. “Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll make us some caf,” you said.

“Already got some moogan tea,” he replied, holding up a steaming mug.

Screw the caf, then, you decided, immediately crossing the room to plop down next to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder, wrapped your arms around his waist, and draped your legs across his thigh, tucking your feet against his calf.

“You really are cold,” Wrecker said with a laugh as he felt your frigid toes.

“Warm me up?” you pleaded, giving him the softest, most pathetic tooka eyes you could muster at such an early hour.

“C’mere, then,” he replied, adjusting your position so he could hold you a little closer while still staring over your head at his datapad.

“Reading something good?” you asked.

He kissed the top of your head. “Candy Crush.”

You laughed quietly and snuggled closer, teasing your chilled fingers beneath the hem of his shirt. He flinched away involuntarily, but when you pulled back, he let out a little grumble.

“It’s all right,” he said. “You just surprised me. Come back.”

You didn’t bother to put up even a token resistance, instead diving your icy hands enthusiastically back under his shirt.

“Gods, you’re so warm!” you murmured, burrowing closer and sliding your hands further and further under his shirt, until you were practically wearing it with him.

“I do that on purpose so you’ll cuddle up to me,” he replied, holding back a laugh. “Comfy down there?”

“I’m working on it,” you replied. “You’re a really good heat source.”

“And you’re a really good icicle.” He set down his mug and wrapped his free arm around you. “You tryin’ to climb all the way inside my shirt?”

“Our shirt,” you replied, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric. “Besides, I’m not trying. I’m succeeding.”

“Well, maybe I should just carry you back to our bed so you can have a real blanket.”

“No, this is fine,” you replied from inside his—ahem—your shirt. “It’s cozy. I live here now.”

You felt the deep rumble of his chuckle against your cheek as you nuzzled your face against his chest. “You gonna pay rent?”

“Nah, I’m sleeping with the landlord. He’d never evict me.”

"You got that right." He shifted, and you heard the soft clatter of his datapad as he set it on the floor, then both of his arms closed around you. With seemingly no effort at all, he lifted you up and rolled the both of you over so you were tucked securely between him and the back of the sofa, wrapped in his embrace. He yawned loudly, and you knew he’d doze off within minutes. "Now stop squirmin’ and go back to sleep.”

---

Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts!

More Bad Batch fics: Hunter fluff; Hunter spice; Crosshair hurt comfort; Crosshair fluff; Tech cuddles; more Tech cuddles

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#wrecker #tbb wrecker #wrecker x reader #bad batch fic #star wars #gn reader #sw tbb fanfic #bad batch #dystopicjumpsuit writes #flashing gif

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kybercrystals94 · 2 days

Text

Sounds Like Him

Read on Ao3 here!

Angstpril 2024 | Day 24 | Prompt 24: Ghost of You

Rated: G | Words: 435 | Summary: Wrecker and Crosshair talk about their lost brother. | Character Focus: Wrecker, Crosshair

Wrecker groggily wakes to the sound of sure fingers typing. “Go to sleep, Tech,” he grumbles, turning over in the pull down bunk to face the wall.

The typing stops abruptly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” Crosshair’s voice. Not Tech’s. Never Tech’s.

Tech is dead.

Wrecker rolls to his back, stares at the bunk above him. “Sorry,” he says.

Crosshair makes a scoffing noise. “What for? I woke you up.”

“I thought you were Tech for a second,” Wrecker says. “It just sounded…like he was here. The way you were typing. Haven’t heard typing like that since before.”

Crosshair is quiet for a few moments, and Wrecker isn’t sure he’s going to answer, and then, “Hunter types like a newborn blurrg’s first steps.”

Wrecker barks out a surprised laugh, turning his head to look at his brother. Crosshair smirks back at him.

“I missed you, Cross,” Wrecker says. “A whole lot.” He isn’t sure why he’s suddenly feeling sentimental, but the words need to be said.

He misses Tech. Every day.

But he also missed Crosshair.

Every day.

Crosshair blinks at him, smile dropping. He glances away. “I missed you too.”

Wrecker sits up, ducking his head so he doesn’t hit it on the upper bunk. He leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Did Omega ever tell you about Tech winning a pod race?”

A half shrug and a nod. “A little. No details, but I got the gist of it.”

“You should’ve seen him,” Wrecker says, becoming animated. “He was the craziest racer there.”

Crosshair chuckles. “You sound surprised.”

“Nah,” Wrecker says. “Just proud of him.”

His little brother hums. “I would’ve liked to see that,” Crosshair mumbles, looking down at the data pad gone idle in his lap. He pecks one finger at the screen, igniting it to life, but he doesn’t do anything else with it. “There’s a lot of things I should’ve been here for.”

Wrecker swallows, but only lets his silence agree.

“Maybe,” Crosshair continues once the quiet between them has settled, “you can tell me what happened…with the pod race.”

Wrecker grins so big it hurts. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted to share this story with Crosshair. All the details, even the ones he and Tech and Omega had carefully left out when reporting to Hunter and Echo.

“Well,” Wrecker says, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk. “I’ll have to start at the beginning.”

Crosshair rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Well, that’s obvious,” he snarks.

And kriff, if he doesn’t sound just like Tech when he says it.

@the-little-moment @just-here-with-my-thoughts, less than a week left of Angstpril! But that also means less than a week until the end of the Bad Batch 😭 I'm not ready!!

And I'm posting this story before the second to last episode airs just in case it ruins me emotionally....eeeeeep!

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @merkitty49

#angstpril2024 #Day 24 #Prompt 24 #Ghost of You #the bad batch #star wars #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #angst #grief #brotherly love #bonding #memories #littlekyberthoughts #fics by kyber

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bumblesimagines · 3 days

Note

you haven't changed a bit.

do you ever think about what happened between us?

you look really good. i'm happy for you.

Donna Sheridan

you haven't changed a bit.

do you ever think about what happened between us?

you look really good. i'm happy for you.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

"Where the hell did Laz put it? Jesus." You hissed quietly under your breath, back aching from the time you spent crouched or bent over searching for the damn bottle of whiskey Lazaros had hidden for his own personal use after his mother had forbidden him from drinking in front of customers, not that the bar got any, to begin with, given Lazaros... unique singing and Sophia's often stern nature. "Next time I see him, I'm gonna-"

"(Y/N)! I've been looking everywhere for you, boy! Come meet our new singer." Sophia's voice sliced through the air, demanding and attention-grabbing as always, prompting you to flinch and lift your head only to slam right into the underside of the counter.

"Ow, fuck-"

"Language, (Y/N)." Sophia tsked as you properly wiggled out from under the counter and straightened up, one hand rubbing the sore spot on the back of your head. You heaved a sigh and spun on your heel, eyes drifting over the rather empty bar while you made your way to the end of the counter and finally took in the new singer.

And she seemed just as surprised as you.

"(Y/N)?" A breathless, surprised, and giddy laugh escaped her as her eyes widened into saucers, the jaw-dropped look almost comical. You stared back at her in silence, your mind trying to piece together how your spunky ex from college managed to find you on a semi-remote Greek island. Donna moved first, practically throwing herself over the counter to wrap her arms around your shoulders. "I can't believe you're here! In Kalokairi, of all places! I mean, I know you mentioned you wanted to travel around Greece but I never expected the first place I visited to be where you were staying!"

"You know each other?" Sophia questioned, one brow arched as she watched Donna wiggle off the counter and plant her feet firmly back on the floor. Donna nodded excitedly in return, brushing some of her loose curls away from her face and laughing again.

"Yeah! We, uh.. dated briefly in college and then... (Y/N) graduated and..." Donna trailed off, her fingers toying with a ring on her hand. Her teeth dug down into her bottom lip, a dejected look briefly appearing in her eyes. "We broke off. Totally mutual." She assured Sophia with a forceful laugh and you winced when you caught the squinty-eyed look Sophia shot your way.

"Good, good. This means you'll get along, right? That's good." Sophia pursed her lips, the look in her eye telling you that you'd receive an earful later. Donna had a way of making people like her, making them care for her. It seemed her charms even wormed their way into the stern, always straight-faced Sophia. "Feel free to warm up on the stage. I'm sure my son is... somewhere around here."

"Oh, Laz went to see if Korianna would take him back. Again. With the whole band."

"Ugh, God," Sophia sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose and heading toward the back doors to retrieve her son from his ex's porch again. You watched her go, withholding the urge to snort until she was out of earshot and out the door. Turning back to Donna, you licked your lips and cleared your throat.

"Uhm... I'm sure you know your way around here. The band will be back soon but, as Sophia said, you can warm up in the meantime. I'm sure you'll bring in customers without them, though." You offered her a smile and glanced over your shoulder, eyeing the selection of drinks you could offer her. "Do you want a beer? Wine? Ouzo?"

"Maybe later." Donna dismissed with a wave of her hand, her brown eyes slowly raking over you. "You... you look really good. I'm happy for you. I never thought I'd find you here. I thought you'd be putting that law degree into use in Greece, not working in a bar in the middle of the ocean. What- What do your parents think about it?"

"And you haven't changed a bit." It was comforting, at the very least, to know Donna hadn't changed her spunky, adventurous nature despite the time that'd passed. She still sported her typical vibrant, almost hippie-esque clothes and was still a singer. She'd always performed wherever they let her back when you'd been attending Oxford. England, Bristol, Reading. At any place in dire need of entertainment, Donna and the Dynamos would show up and show out. "What does the Ruby Sheridan think of her daughter coming to a small, basically unknown island to sing for the locals? This isn't Las Vegas, you know."

"Well, she doesn't think anything of it 'cause she doesn't know. Like always, she didn't bother showing up to my graduation." Donna rolled her eyes, head shaking slightly, but you caught the hurt that appeared on her face. Despite every complaint, every huff and puff, and insult she threw at her mother, Donna never stopped caring or hoping for Ruby to turn a loving eye toward her. "I went to Paris, you know. Sang there a night or two but something was telling me to come here... to come to you, I guess."

"Maybe if I'd said Spain instead of Greece, that something would've pulled you to Ibiza or Tenerife."

"Maybe," Donna repeated softly, bracing her arms against the counter, her curls tumbling over her shoulders and framing her face perfectly. She traced random shapes into the wood with her fingertip, eyes jumping between looking at you and staring at the counter. "Do... do you ever think about what happened between us? Two years is a long time. Longest relationship I've ever been in."

You pursed your lips and sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms over your chest, head tilting toward some of the fishermen stepping into the bar for their evening beer before they headed back out into the water. You acknowledged them with a nod and fixed up their usual drinks, feeling Donna's eyes locked on your every move. You returned once finished and finally looked her back in the eye. "Sometimes. I- I don't really know what to make of it, Donna. My parents always said it was some whirlwind thing that wouldn't last in 'the real world' and your friends always said it was fated. I was... confused, I guess. I told my family I needed a break and heard of this island when I was in Chania so I came here, found a job and a place to live."

"I just wished you would've waited for me. You know I would've said yes to traveling, to anything, with you."

"I'm sorry." You apologized softly, reaching out to curl your fingers around her arm gently. "I'm glad you're here, though. I think you'll really like this place."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #mamma mia #mamma mia here we go again #mamma mia here we go again x reader #mamma mia here we go again x male reader #mamma mia 2 #mamma mia here we go again x y/n #mamma mia here we go again x you #mamma mia x reader #donna sheridan #donna sheridan x male reader #donna sheridan x you #donna sheridan x y/n

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simonjadis · 2 days

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Thank you for being the only person I've found who isn't a big watcher fan but still actually got facts before saying something. I've lost count of how many times I've seen some form of "I didn't even know who these people were before yesterday, but here is a list of all the ways they are greedy and the CEO is bad at managing his business. Also, eat the rich."

Thank you so much, anon!

Both as a person-on-the-internet and for work as an entertainment news writer, I often find that I first year of someone (a youtuber, an athlete, etc) because of a scandal or a tragedy and never see the side of them that their fans did, so I don't feel the disappointment, betrayal, doubts, and defensive impulses that fans feel. Which is normal.

I also think that it's normal for people to repeat information that they've just been told. So if you've never heard of Watcher Entertainment (even if you recognize the boys from the memes) and your first exposure to the idea is someone you follow expressing distress or anger over them, it wouldn't leave you with a good impression. I totally get that.

In this case, I'm lucky enough to have some wonderful friends who are Watcher fans. One of whom was, in person, updating me on some of the more toxic "fan" antics last Friday, which prompted me to look up more on my own.

Like I (may have; it was a long post) said in response to the earlier ask, I totally understand someone expressing disappointment that they'll need to pay artists for the media that they create when it was previously free-with-ads. I think that the appropriate response to that is simply never, ever racist backlash, inventing malicious headcanons about who made which decisions, or launching a harassment campaign over it.

PS: I have seen people say "eat the rich" in this context, which is laughable but also predictable. I forget the quote, but it's something about how many people with this attitude end up venting their anger at dentists and mildly successful character actors rather than at corporate tycoons, an attitude that benefits only corporate tycoons.

PPS: I don't even go here

#watcher #watcher entertainment #I don't even go here #anon #ask #anon ask

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anathemaspeaks · 22 hours

Note

Could I request number 23 and 24 with Grimmjow x reader? 💙✨

hey! here you go 🩷

check out my prompt list, and send in your own requests.

prompts #23 and #24:

"quit looking at me, you’re making me nervous."

"do you know how to knock?"

you stepped into the bath, the warm water melting away all of your troubles. you let yourself relax under the steady stream of the shower, feeling the tension leave your muscles.

after a while, you dried yourself up and stepped into your cozy hotel room. you and grimmjow had just finished a job, opting to stay at a nearby hotel for the night. you both had separate rooms, unfortunately.

exhausted from the day's exertion, you flopped onto the bed. you looked around for your phone, but you couldn't find it anywhere. you decided to go check grimmjow's room - maybe he knew where it was.

you just hoped he wouldn't get annoyed and do something stupid like break your phone. since his room was right next to yours, it wasn't much of a walk. you twisted the knob and opened-

wow.

and right in front of you was grimmjow. in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. damp, ocean blue hair sticking to his forehead, water droplets falling from his face, trailing down his neck and down to his glistening, sculpted abs.

you've never been jealous of water before.

"do you know how to knock, brat?" he huffed, face now slightly pink from you seeing him a state like this. his eyes bored straight into yours, the sheer intensity of his piercing blue eyes had you buckling at the knees.

"o-oh! right, i was going to, but i thought i'd be disturbing you- and i'm looking for my phone- and you'd be tired and - sorry!" you rambled, your voice an octave higher than normal, face heating up at the way you could see every muscle moving. you couldn't look away, god, he looked gorgeous.

"quit looking at me, you're making me nervous" he muttered, turning away from you. you were frozen. he wasn't angry? you made him nervous?

you don't know if it was the deliriousness you felt after seeing his shirtless body, or the exhaustion from the day's work, but you felt a sudden surge of confidence. you make him nervous.

"i can't" you admitted, hesitantly. you were testing the waters, it was his move now. the air crackled with unvocalized tension. his eyes met yours again, an unrecognizable emotion in the pools of his irises.

"because?" he asked, voice deep and soft, sending goosebumps across your arms. taking a shaky breath, you inched closer, the butterflies in your stomach amplifying by the second.

"'cause you look really, really good" you managed, voice just above a whisper.

"you're playin' a dangerous game, brat. jus' look for your damn phone and go to sleep" he said, eyes avoiding yours once again, chest rising and falling along with his breaths. now you were only a foot apart from each other.

"admit it, grimm, we work well together, as much as you'd hate to acknowledge it" you stated. that damn nickname again, why did he even let you call him that? why did he let you work with him all the time?

"'s that what you're gonna call it, brat?" he scoffed. he moved one step closer, placing a calloused hand on the side of your jaw. his touch sent shivers down your spine, he was even more ethereal up close.

"always pushin' your luck" he said softly. a challenge.

"mm, but you like it that way" you teased, sending a playful smile his way while batting your eyelashes up at him.

he didn't respond, eyes locked onto yours, you could just drown in his. being so close to him was intoxicating, the feel of his palm on the side of your face felt so warm.

"and what if i do?" he whispered, accepting the truth. he loved the pretty smile on your face when you two would bicker, sweet giggles escaping your mouth at his half-assed insults. you made his heart flutter, you made him nervous.

fuck.

could you hear his heart beat? you were so close that he could hear you breathing. he was sweating even more now.

he looked so handsome like this, face pink, nervousness in his demeanour, water still dripping off his god-like body, hair wet and clinging to his forehead.

you couldn't help it, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he shifted his down to your waist. he leaned in, his grip on you so gentle, before finally kissing you.

his lips were warm and demanding, yet surprisingly so tender. you melted into him, hands running down his shoulders, across the broad expanse of his back, feeling every muscle relax under your touch.

you tangled a hand into his soft blue hair, tugging at it, breathless gasps escaping both of your mouths. when you finally broke away, it was solely due to the lack of oxygen.

he pulled away reluctantly, his forehead resting against yours. his chest heaved with exertion, eyes searching your face, his full attention only on you.

the next morning, you woke up next to him. tangled in the sheets, his toned arms wrapped around you, you realized you forgot to find your phone. after a while of searching, you found it in his jacket pocket. right as you were about to accuse him-

"it fell on the way here, so i picked it up is all. don't think too much of it" you smiled anyways.

"you want me so bad"

i hope you liked itt <3

#anathema writes #bleach x reader #bleach #bleach anime #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #bleach grimmjow #grimmjow jaggerjack #grimmjow x reader #grimmjow x you #grimmjow smut #ichigo kurosaki

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sessalover · 2 days

Text

post-baftas

pairing: dominic sessa x reader

genre: smut, munch dom

part 1

——————

the sound of a key card at the door arose you from your lazing on the bed. a smirk came across your face as you sat up in the hotel room bed. your, or more accurately, dom’s favourite underwear was covering you, as well as one of his t-shirts he’d left in his suitcase.

“there you are,” he smiled, walking into the room and slowly taking off his jacket.

“oh my god,” you moaned, watching his every move — every single aspect of this outfit had you drunk, “dominic how do you exist like this?”

he laughed, clearly tipsy from the drinks he’d had before and after the ceremony, though it can’t have been that many - he’d left almost immediately afterwards, his mind too preoccupied with the thought of you naked on a hotel bed to care about anything that had just gone on. he nodded to the bottle resting in an ice bucket, two glasses next to it, “champagne?”

“what did i say? someone else is paying for the room,” you smirked.

dominic laughed, pouring two glasses and making his way over to the bed, “isn’t champagne reserved for winners? i didn’t win, remember?”

you pouted, undoing the button on the top of his trousers and tugging on the waistband, “poor baby. do you wanna see what losers get instead?”

dom grinned, stepping out of the trousers and undoing the buttons on his shirt, all while kissing you as passionately as he could. he really was thankful you were here for him, award or not, and as horny as he was; he wanted to show that as well.

“well, do you?” you prompted, pulling away from his lips breathlessly.

“whatever,” he laughed, pulling your t-shirt over your head before he suddenly moaned, “the red pair?”

“we’re matching,” you said, as teasingly as possible, pulling on the hem of his undone shirt to compare it to the colour of your underwear.

he began to leave a wet trail of kisses down your body, leading to your panties; he slipped a finger under the waistband, snapping them back against your thigh as you let out a gasp.

your breathing was unsteady as you felt his hot breath right over the area where you needed it most.

“i-i’m supposed to be rewarding you, aren’t i?”

“little darling, this is my reward,” he said lowly, “can i?”

“please, dom, oh my god.”

he used one hand to haphazardly pull your panties down your thighs, not even caring about the blunder as he connected his lips to you.

you moaned on impact, his tongue drawing circles around your clit, and his hand that had been busy chucking your panties across the room now entering you, one finger at a time. your hands went flying down to his hair, running your fingers through his curls and tugging whenever it felt particularly good.

“how does that feel, baby?” he prompted, stopping his mouth on your clit to look up at you.

you moaned, shoving his head back down as he laughed. the constant impact on your clit, and his skillful fingers working their way in and out of you had you climaxing quicker than ever before.

“dom! i’m gonna cum,” you panted, your boyfriend not even coming up for air as you moaned your way through your peak, hips trying to worm away from his mouth, but his mouth still never leaving you, “dom, please!”

you used your grip on his hair to pull him off, instead, sitting up and bringing his lips to your lips instead of to your cunt.

“i could stay there all day,” he chuckled, kissing down your neck, his hands going to hold your jaw; a surprisingly tender hold considering the horniness radiating from the both of you.

“yeah i can tell, baby boy,” you said, as he worked his way down to your boobs, ripping your bra off in the process. he pulled away, panting, and leaned over to the bedside table to take a swig of champagne, sitting back against the headboard in the process.

you narrowed your eyes in on him, still in his boxers and un-buttoned sheer shirt, “let me rid you of these.”

you slid you hands over his chest, following the line of his collarbones, down his arms to take the shirt off. throwing it somewhere across the room, you focused back on his body.

dom continued to sip champagne, sitting with a wide-legged stance, dick hard and straining against his boxers. you kissed down his jawline and neck, his cornicello necklace, and continuing down his hairy chest, stopping once you got to his tattoo.

“i can’t believe you were showing this off for everyone,” you tutted, licking it, “i thought i was the only one who got to see this.”

dominic shivered, putting his glass down to play with your hair. you smirked up at him, you knew what he was hinting at, but you weren’t going to give it to him that easily.

continuing your trail of kisses down his hipbone before blowing slightly on his tip though his boxers, dominic groaned.

you reached a hand inside his boxer shorts, grabbing hold of his length and running your thumb over the tip, teasingly. dominic whined, as when you pulled away, all he could feel was the tightening confines of his boxers. he didn’t want to take them off himself, that would be demeaning.

“you want these off?” you pouted.

dominic panted, “shut up.”

you laughed, rolling them down his thighs, so his dick sprung up into the cold air of the room. it rested against his stomach, and curved slightly left. his arm was flung over his eyes, a reaction of pure sensitivity.

“please, y/n,” he moaned, his hand splayed out on the bedsheets. you hadn’t seen each other for months, you could imagine he’d gotten very used to his hand.

“you want prep? or do you wanna just fuck me?” you asked, crawling up his body until you were basically sat on his lap, pussy just inches away from his, frankly, throbbing dick.

he could have cum right there, “please let me fuck you, oh my god.”

you smirked, hands on his chest to steady yourself as you lined yourself up with his dick and began to sink down. both of you were wordless and moaning with desire; once you’d got him all inside you, you slumped forward so your whole body was resting on his chest.

dominic chuckled, pulling you up and pressing his lips to yours, planting his feet on the bed and beginning to move his hips. you moaned into the kiss, now this is what you’d missed.

#hi guys i want to formally state that i am a uni student and i actively chose to write this instead of working on a presentation #hope my lecturers are proud #dominic sessa smut #dominic sessa imagine #dominic sessa fanfic #dominic sessa x reader #dominic sessa #angus tully #angus tully imagines #angus tully fanfic #angus tully x reader #the holdovers

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fairykazu · 9 hours

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hi pookie !!!!!!! congrats on 500 u deserve it frfr 🫶 for the event, can u have a bouquet of petunias with dan heng? thank you and congratulations again teehee :3

petunias with dan heng prompt: realizing feelings side note: oh mu god i think i brainrotted and then forgot my train of thought. this isn't exactly the prompt but he does realize it i swear. i might write a follow up afterwards because i hate the way i ended this. event masterlist 𝜗𝜚 hsr masterlist

nervous was a feeling that dan heng never allowed himself to feel, he only let it fleetingly pass by like the winter breeze. but he doesn’t understand how he began to feel anxious around you, just simply on edge just by being near you. he could just sweat pure bullets from the amount of sweat he could feel, making his palms sweaty.

when the both of you went on an assignment for collecting extinguished cores, he nearly left mid-fight, not that he’d leave you in the middle of a fight, but your hand briefly touched his and he died within that moment. after that, he zoned out the entire mission, just focusing on the touch between his thumb and your index finger. his and yours, and his and yours-

frankly, he doesn’t understand this feeling. if he asked someone on the express, surely, they would know why he’s acting this way. but he doesn’t want to seem like a bother to them. maybe he’d resort to them after a good dive into the archives.

there was a gentle knock against his door but he didn’t hear it, head too deep in various books that were wide open. stacks of books and stacks of books littered the archives’ floors, it was like a maze to even just travel to dan heng. there were books like feelings and how to understand them and are you anxious? there are reasons why in the shelves. although, he was confused how they got there, maybe when march got them to read for fun, he was thankful.

did he get the answers he needed? no. but they were helpful regardless yet he was in a dead end. well, it’s time to ask the express, maybe they’d know and surely, they would tell him. but when he tried to seek out answers from himeko and welt, they exchanged a look and laughed with each other.

welt cleared his throat. “okay, himeko, let’s not laugh too much, maybe he knows why.”

himeko wiped a tear from her face from laughing too much, catching her breath, “welt, c’mon, just look at him. he doesn’t know anything!”

“dan heng isn’t clueless.” they were talking about him as if he didn’t even exist. until both of them looked at dan heng as if there was something he was supposed to know. “is there something im missing?” dan heng asked, confused.

“no…”

“okay?”

. ❀

back to the drawing board, he walked into his room, seeing march and stelle sitting in there. march raised a brow, “dan heng, your room’s a mess, even messier than stelle’s!” it was true, despite the silver haired girl protesting against the so-called “allegations” march is painting on her, his room was messy. there was post it notes on the walls, books on the floor, mattress and even the fan? was he really that deep into researching this feeling, if it is even real?

“i was curious about something, that’s all.”

“about what?”

“name, something about name. they’re confusing me.”

stelle quipped back, “what? that you like them?” the girl in pink gasped, march slapped stelle’s shoulder, “stelle!” she continued in a whisper-yell, “you weren’t supposed to tell him, he was supposed to figure this out himself.”

dan heng tilted his head, deep in thought, ignoring the commotion the couple was making in front of him.

what? no, no, he doesn’t like name like that.

“look what you did, stelle! you broke him.” march said, tapping on dan heng’s shoulder as if he was a buzzer in a game show.

sure, sometimes, dan heng imagines a world where the two of you are together. tranquil hours spent in the park, just looking at each other. or cooking with each other, have a cat or a dog and rest together until the end of time or he’d pray to an aeon for eternity to exist forever just to see you as you both grow old.

but that’s because this is how friends act, right?

#love language of flowers 𝜗𝜚 vidia's 500 event #hsr x reader #gen #gender neutral reader #gend #gender neutral terms #gender neutral insert #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng #dan heng hsr x reader #hsr fluff #hsr dan heng

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orionremastered · 3 months

Note

could you do a batfam x oblivious reader who’s so close to finding out they’re a vigilante, but she doesn’t even know if that makes sense? like nightwing crawling in through the window when he thought she was asleep, only for her to be awake and go “wrong house?” not realizing it’s her boyfriend.. who thought she was asleep

this made me laugh. very good thinking brains y'all have

Masterlist

Oblivious

Dick Grayson

The sound of your window sliding open prompts you to look up from where you lie your head on the pillow. You can't seem to get to sleep and maybe it's a good thing— you grab for the lamp on the bedside table and raise it high over your head.

Climbing through the window, however, is not a common thief. It's Nightwing.

"What are you doing here?"

The vigilante freezes, slowly looking up to meet your eyes. "I was told there was domestic abuse occurring in this apartment," he says smoothly. "You have a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Where is he?"

You look over to Dick's spot on the bed and only just now do you realise it's empty. There's a note written on paper that reads, OUT TO GET FOOD.

"He's grocery shopping."

"Ah, wrong apartment, then. Sorry to bother you." The vigilante then ducks outside.

Jason Todd

A loud crash prompts you to wake up— far earlier than you're used to. The sun isn't even up yet. Glancing to the side of your bed, you forget Jason's out on a business trip, what ever his business is.

You carefully climb out of bed, creeping to the bedroom door and slowly pushing it open. In your living stands Red Hood himself, dismantling an assault rifle.

"What are you doing in my house?"

The vigilante whips his head around, frozen like a deer in headlights. There's a long few minutes of silence where the two of you stare at each other.

"Gun's not working. I'll be out in a minute, just need to fix it. My apologies."

"Oh," you say, shrugging your shoulders. "Stay safe, then."

Red Hood nods, watching you return to your bed with a quiet sigh.

Tim Drake

Waking up at your usual time and kissing Tim gently on the forehead, almost as a reward for sleeping.

After eating breakfast as quickly as you could, you were surprised to see Tim still asleep and give him another gentle kiss, this time on the nose.

You've only got half an hour until you have to go to work, so you rush to the bathroom to get ready.

The Red Robin suit is draped over the shower wall, unmistakeable.

In your bathroom.

"Tim?" You shout, forgetting your boyfriend's need to sleep. "Tim!"

"What?" he replies groggily, slowly getting out of bed.

"The Red Robin suit is in my bathroom."

"Oh, uh, he asked me to clean it for him. We're sort of like, friends. I guess. It's weird."

"You never told me that," you say.

"It's a recent thing. Sorry."

You shrug and get ready for work, ignoring the suit at is it hangs in your bathroom.

Damian Wayne

"Emergency at work," your boyfriend had said. He gets a lot of those, you think. "Be back in the morning. Maybe later."

Now, going to sleep late— towards midnight, where Damian would have already dragged you into bed— you realised you didn't have on of his shirts to sleep in.

When he wasn't with you to sleep, you always sleep in one of his shirts.

You begin scrummaging through his wardrobe— which you never do— only for a shirt. You find one, your favourite black one, and pull it out.

Underneath the shirt, revealed as you yank it from the drawer, is a katanna.

"Oh. Oh."

It's late. You're tired. You've got the shirt.

It's probably just an antique piece anyway. Rich people have all sorts of things.

#batfamily x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader

4K notes · View notes

alphabetboyluvr · 29 days

Text

habits of a clandestine nature | jjk

pairing: collegejk x female oc (angst, smut)

warnings: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, flashbacks to summer, (mild) enemies to lovers, oc lives with tae (they're besties), jk is besties with jimin, mentions of parents infidelity, mentions of oc's virginity (lost prior to the story starting), a little angsty, jk is nawt a fuckboi, but he is stewpid, unprotected sex, bathroom escapades, multiple positions, oral (f), mentions of blowjobs, house parties, jackson wang!!!!!!!, yoongi has no lines but is also one of my fave characters lmao

wordcount: 16k

note from holly: this was written as a commission over on ko-fi!! it went through soooo many changes and edits - at one point it was over 24k lmao. i have so much lore and backstory for this couple, but I'll save it for a rainy day!! one of the main prompts was the 2004 classic a cinderella story, and there are little nods to it throughout the story, including the diner name!! a commenter on wattpad said the pairing reminded them of danny and sandy from grease and like... i see it lmao. anywaysss enjoy!! <33

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

It's a well-trained habit, your fleeting glance towards the door of Montgomery's Diner when the bell rings.

Though the clatter of cheap porcelain being stacked on a tray almost manages to drown out the chiming metal, it's never quite enough. Softening your hardened expression, you continue on with your work, careful to not let your contempt show too much.

You already know who it is—or at least, who it could be. Only saw the girl leading the pack, but know that where Claudia goes, the rest of The Untouchables will surely follow.

Gorgeous in a way that money can't buy, and careless in a way that money makes up for, she's never taken personal issue with you. Barely even registers your existence.

From your quick look, you know that it's not just the girls today. It's the guys, too.

All with parents on the college board, they're regarded as campus royalty. Are aptly known as The Untouchables, 'cause the rules that apply to you don't apply to them. They'll likely continue with their lives in a similar manner for years to come, and will pass these attributes off to their offspring, whom they'll name after countries or distant relatives who were once regarded to be regal.

Gathering up the last of the discarded napkins on the table, you take one final, fleeting look just to see if a familiar face is with them.

It's not that you actively want to see him.

You just haven't seen him in the best part of a fortnight, which is odd.

He's been in your section of the Diner near enough every single night of the past three months—but school is starting up again, and he's got appearances to keep.

God-forbid Jeon Jungkook—son of the Admissions Director and heir-apparent to an unholy amount of real estate tied to the university—ever associates with the lowly scholarship kids like you.

The only reason The Untouchables ever come to this Diner is because it's the last remaining place close to the university that hasn't been snapped up and integrated into the campus. You guess it must feel like freedom to them, in a way.

In fact, you know this is the case. Jungkook has told you himself.

Has told you a lot.

Told you far too much.

Such candid honesty from him, shared during the lonely heat of a sweltering summer, is what makes it so jarring when he looks away as soon as his dark eyes meet yours.

Tall, broad, handsome; he's everything the gossip magazines you read during your downtime swoon over, but also everything they warn against. Too pretty for his own good, the resident agony aunt would call him if she were ever to see him. Would assume his ego is far larger than his shoe size; superiority complex embedded into his skin like the ink of his tattoos.

And while you think that perhaps those assumptions could be true, you also know the reality of him; how gentle his hands can be. Helpful, too. Delicate. Ornate, almost, when they fold bills into five petal flowers. Strong, when they grip the back of your neck. Commanding, when they're wrapped around his leather steering wheel.

You shouldn't know the way his car smells. Shouldn't know how he presses the heel of his palm against the wheel when he's reversing, or just how easy it is to clamber into the backseats over the centre console.

But you do, and it rests on your tongue like a dirty little secret desperate to escape: I know you.

You're not sure if you know him better than The Untouchables, but you know him independent of them. Not many people do.

It's rare to find him without Jimin cracking a joke by his side, or Claudia making a slightly mean remark masked as innocent ignorance as she leads him astray.

But summer happened, and so did Jungkook. With his friends away at their holiday homes, and his father's infidelity ripping his family apart at the seams, he'd needed something to stitch himself back together. Let you thread yourself through his very being, and once you'd tied yourself in a pretty little bow around his heart, he'd cut you off.

Is that not what all craftsmen do, though? Discard what no longer serves a purpose?

Memories of him, in all the places you never should have let him in, ravage your thoughts.

The scent of his aftershave lingers on the childhood plushie he used to tease you for having on your bed, but would also automatically hug into his chest every single time he entered your room.

The things he did—and the things he didn't do—corrupt your dreams and leave you restless when you wake.

The smudged mascara under your eyes hides the bags from your lack of sleep, and your only respite is that the little puffs beneath his eyes are extra prominent today. He's tried, too.

For a minute, you feel vindicated.

It doesn't last.

For the past few months, if he's been sleeping badly, you've known about it. Kept him company in this very Diner, or in the basement of a party house he was dumb enough to take you to, forgetting he'd have to return there after summer finished, too.

The walls might not talk, but Jackson Wang certainly does. Jungkook knows it's only a matter of time until his dirty little secrets—no matter how pure they actually are—become the talk of the town.

He always slept well in your bedroom, though.

Funny, that.

He's dressed simply, today: white t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black boots on his feet. It's still warm out, even if the sun does begin to set a little earlier than it had been during the hotter months. He's got no need for a jacket, and you despise how undeniably gorgeous his arms are in the dewy humidity. Tattoos trailing up and down his skin, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was a man of complexities.

Turns out he's just like every other good-for-nothing fuck boy who wasn't worth your time.

The Untouchables sit towards the front of the Diner. Your section is at the back, and there's no way in hell you're deviating from your set section. Not today. Not when he's with them.

"I thought we were free," your colleague, Maria, grumbles as you bring your tray to the counter.

Like you, she's a scholarship kid. Is the one who got you the job at the Diner after you both moved into the shared house you live in off-campus. Three of you live there—you, Maria, and Taehyung—and you all share the same disdain for The Untouchables.

"It never ends," you tease in reply. Glance over your shoulder, back at the table.

They're laughing and joking about something you can't quite decipher. All of them, except Jungkook.

There's a sternness to him. One of which you'd forgotten about. With one hand on the table, the other in his lap, his thumb fidgets over his tense knuckles. Sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, pushed up into his hair to hold it back off his face. Staring at nothing much, he's chewing up his bottom lip until he feels the familiar burn of your eyes on him. Looks your way.

It's curious, how looking at you halts his body from its self-soothing actions. He no longer nibbles on his lip. His tightly balled first eases.

"What do you think, Kookie?" Claudia drawls, drawing his attention back to the group. "You coming tonight?"

"Hm?" He questions, eyes pulling away from you. He begins to rub his thumb over his knuckles again. "Sorry, was just looking at the menu board. What are we talking about?"

"Party at the Conservatory," Jimin says from across the table. Though he's the one sitting beside Claudia, everyone knows Jungkook is the one that she's really interested in. Has been since their first day of college. "First of the semester. It's one of their birthdays. Reckon it'll be a big one."

On campus, but close enough to the boundaries that it's never infringed upon by security or university officials, the Conservatory isn't what it seems. A boarding house for the creme-de-la-creme of the Botany and Conservation PhD students, it's surrounded by land. Has rows upon rows of greenhouses for their projects.

Of the few times you've been there, you've always thought it was like a maze. The perfect place to get lost. The perfect place to get found, too.

Unfortunately for the PhD students, the house custodian took on the role for one thing and one thing only: to throw the biggest ragers on campus. Knows fuck all about growing anything that isn't illegal. Only managed to get the role, 'cause like the rest of The Untouchables, his dad works high up in the college. He's a few years older than them. Belongs to a different generation of campus royalty, but is keen on making sure his legacy remains.

After all, there ain't no party like a Jackson Wang party.

Namjoon—one of the Botanists and the birthday boy himself—has started padlocking the greenhouses.

Another one of them—Yoongi—minored in mechanical engineering. Has a coin-operated lock on his bathroom door. Makes enough money from a single Jackson Wang party to sustain himself for an entire month.

Hoseok and Jin, the remaining two, are just as messy as Jackson. Have only started PhDs because they don't know what else to do and don't want their youth to abruptly end. Live for the parties; survive for the studying.

"Now, who's told you that?" Jungkook smiles, as if the prospect of showing up at the Conservatory doesn't make him feel a little bit sick. "Jackson?"

"Obviously."

"Well, of course he's gonna tell you it'll be big," Jungkook laughs. "Wants to rope as many of you fuckers in as he can."

"And it works every time," Jimin smirks back. "If everyone thinks it'll be a rager, everyone will want to go. He's a marketing genius, if you ask me."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Is fond in how he interacts with his friends. Has grown up with most of them. Whether or not they're everyones cup of tea is debatable, but they're his people.

And yet he finds himself glancing back over to the counter. You're not there anymore. Are out back, he assumes. Knows the layout, now. Where the walk-in freezer is. The little nook that you sit in during your break. He doubts any of his friends have ever been in a commercial kitchen, let alone one at a place like this.

While yes, his friends have only ever been good to him, he knows that it isn't the case for everyone they interact with. Is well aware that his friends would be confused beyond belief if they ever found out he knows how to click through the Diner's cash register and find the discount section. Would be even more perplexed if they were to see his initials hidden in one of the codes.

But summer was lonely.

Or at least it was.

Lonely, until it wasn't. Isolating, until he sought solace in someone he can't even bring himself to speak to in front of his friends.

Casting his eyes back down to the table, well aware that he's got no reason to feel as cut up as he does, he fakes a laugh. Looks up again at his friends with a grin so sincere that they'd never guess the way it feels like his heart is in his throat. "Alright. You're on. What time?"

The conversation dissolves into plans—what to wear, what drink to take.

After a summer apart, Jungkook thought it would be nice to be with his friends again. Thought he'd be excited; that he'd welcome them all back with open arms. Ask them about their summers, and lament his time spent here.

When Jimin asks him why he didn't go to the Italian villa his parents normally insist they spend the summer at, Jungkook shrugs.

"Dad has some stuff to sort out, so it was better to stay here," he says, minimising the reality of what really happened. Even you don't know for certain. All you know is that his father did something incredibly immoral, to the point where Jungkook can't even stand to look at him.

Is why he spent all those nights in the diner.

Was confusing at first. He was always angry. Always frowning. Always ordering black coffees and nothing else, huddled up in the corner booth, away from the world.

But with summer comes monsoons, and with monsoons come terrible conditions for walking home.

He expected you to say no when he offered you a ride. You expected to say no, too—but then a please and thank you had escaped your lips.

A routine grew. Habits formed.

Curious little thing, habits are. 21 days. That's all the time they take to develop.

Jungkook spent 63 days of summer with you in varying capacities. Enough time to learn a habit three times over.

The one that haunts him most is how it felt to have your hand beneath his on his gear stick. Finds the absence of you when he drives unbearable. Knows he's got no one to blame but himself; not just for creating distance, but also for minimising it in the first place.

He's the one who offered you a lift. He's the one who messaged you on your days off to see if you fancied going for a drive. He's the one who didn't turn the AC on just to get you shaking your jacket off your shoulders.

And he's the one that drove you out to the coast one evening for no other reason than wanting to hear the waves. He's the one who opened up to you about his family. He's the one that made things more than what they were.

Had walked along the shore with you, too scared to hold your hand beneath the lunar light. Opted for playful banter instead, nudging you into the lapping waves.

But the waves got bigger, and Jungkook's unbridled desire to have you close did just the same. Like always, he took things too far. Drenched in sea water, you'd laughed with him for the entire ride home.

Invited him in. Said, "The salt will ruin your clothes. We should wash them."

"Hand wash only," he'd said, pinging his damp t-shirt against his chest. It stuck to him in such a way you learned all of his edges before you ever saw him naked—not like there was much time between these two instances. Ended up in your shower with him, clothes beneath your feet, the excuse of hand washing disregarded the second he had you naked.

You learned three things about Jungkook in that shower.

The first is that he giggles. Lips on yours, hands clutching your jaw, whenever the water was a little too intrusive, he'd separate with a laugh. Would kiss you again, a smile still on his face. Would pretend as if he wasn't giggling.

But he was, and it was lovely.

The second was that he's the type to lean his head forward, not tip it back. With his hands pressed to the shower tiles behind you as your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, he let his head dip to his chest. Gave him ample opportunity to press kisses to the top of your head—or at least it did until you got to your knees and started taking his hard cock in your mouth.

"Shit," he had husked. Whined. Praised. "Fuck. You're so fuckin' good at that."

It was around then that you became aware he was a head pusher, too.

Almost as if he was saving the best until last, the third thing you learned was how he likes to cum; in your sheets, cock buried in your pussy, your hands clasped above your head. Missionary, 'cause he likes to kiss you through it. In your bed, 'cause he likes losing himself in everything you are. Prefers finishing inside you, but you refuse to fuck him without a condom so he never gets exactly what he wants. It's close enough, though.

Spent weeks—months—laying unfair claim to your body, and now he can't bring himself to look in your direction. It infuriates you.

But more than anything else, it embarrasses you.

Even your reflection laughs at you. Cackles 'told you so' every time you look in the mirror.

You always wondered why you never heard much about Jungkook's hook ups around campus. Everyone knows about Jimin and how his cock has been perpetually wet since the first day of freshers week, but there's always been a secrecy when it comes to Jungkook.

It's something you've teased him about; in your sheets, bodies clammy, his heart beating so fast in his chest you'd been forgiven for thinking he'd just run a marathon.

"When do I have to sign it?" You had giggled.

"Sign what?" He'd husked, voice all wispy and fucked out.

"The NDA," you'd replied as if it was obvious. "It's been, like, what? A month? Surely it's about time you made sure I kept my mouth shut like all your other girls do?"

On your front, your arms were folded over his chest, and he was gently rearranging the pretty little updo he'd made a mess of. Though he was looking at his hands as he replied, you kept your eyes on his. Studied his sincerity.

"Reason you don't hear about other girls is 'cause there aren't any."

A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, but you didn't let it shine for him.

"Sure."

There was a small jerk to his torso as a breathy smirk formed on his face.

"You think I can't be trusted?"

"I think it's foolish to trust any man."

His deep, dark eyes sank down to focus on yours. Offered you all the sincerity you'd be searching for, and more.

"That's all I am, huh?" He'd challenged you. "Just another one of your men?"

"One of the many," you'd teased just to rile him up a little.

"Ah," he'd played along. "So that's why I always have to wear a condom?"

With a saccharine smirk on your lips, you'd gotten back in position, legs straddled over his hips. Had kissed him. Whispered, "No. That's just because I know it annoys you."

"You annoy me all the time," he'd mumbled into your lips, hands gripping your waist to get you grinding against his still sensitive cock. Barely fifteen minutes since he'd last finished, there was no way he was ready to go again.

"Hm?" You'd hummed against his kisses, then began to work your way down his neck in a way that always got him a little moany. "If I'm so annoying, why are you getting hard again, baby?"

"You can be annoying and hot," he told you as he desperately tried to not let his insatiable need for you show.

"Is that how you like your girls?" You'd ribbed once more, just to piss him off a little. It was never serious. Never something you would actually fret over.

Perhaps you should have done, but then he told you with a little too much candour, "No. It's how I like my girl. Singular."

Loose lips sink ships, and Jungkook was one iceberg away from greeting the ocean floor. Closing his lips back down on yours, he was making sure you were just as insatiable for him as he was for you. He didn't cum again that evening, even if you did more times than you cared to count.

A greedy lover, is Jeon Jungkook. Edacious.

And so you understand, now, why the girls he gets entangled with stay silent; how the hoaxes he plays leave them utterly hysterical. They're subject to silence, because who would possibly believe all those sweet little lies he tells? How mad would they be considered if they tried to convince anyone he has a heart?

His brazen lack of humanity is proven when he comes to pay for the table. Any of them could have done it. Yet he elects to stand in front of your till and wait for you to serve him.

Have you not served him enough?

You refuse to utter a single word in his direction. Don't look at him, don't give him any satisfaction. He can read it for himself, he can pay, and he can fuck off.

"Keep the change," he mumbles tossing down the bills—but like fuck are you gonna keep anything he gives you.

He begins to walk away, a little shrunken in his stature.

"Excuse me, sir."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Jungkook is perplexed to hear you address him so coldly.

"Your change," you say, holding a closed hand out for him to hold his own hand beneath. He doesn't want to cause a scene. Obliges. Is surprised when notes, not coins, fall into his palm.

More specifically, notes folded into the shape of flowers. His handiwork, he's certain. Was something he used to do in the early hours of your late night diner shifts. If he said something a little mean, or bickered with you a little too hard, he'd fold his notes up like posies and give them to you as a remedy.

Never used those notes to buy you real flowers, mind you.

Back when things were still easy, you pulled him up on it. Told him that you'd be far easier to seduce with a little wooing. He'd told you that you were easy to seduce regardless.

You didn't speak to him for the rest of your shift.

Ended it with fourteen folded bills in the shape of a bouquet, and when the backseat windows of his car had a thick veil of condensation coating them that same evening, he'd drawn you flowers on them.

"No point in flowers," he'd told you. "They just wither up and die."

Which is funny, 'cause it kinda looks like Jungkook is doing that very same thing right in this moment. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out.

Disappointing, you think, then realise of course he is. Has done nothing but disappoint you.

You smile. Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. Good.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

21 repetitions. That's how many times it takes to form a habit. You know this.

You also know that 90 days of this repetition will form a habit to last a lifetime.

As you hook up your apron, and free your hair of the ribbon that had been tightly wrapped around your ponytail, you know these are 'lifetime' habits. Apron, then ponytail. Always.

But when you say goodbye to Maria, and ask if she'll be at home this evening, you find yourself leaning into a recently formed habit. It's not anything particularly noteworthy. Not something anyone would notice.

Well, not anyone who matters. You don't think Jungkook counts as someone who matters, anymore.

But he'd noticed; how you'd started glancing across to his parking spot whenever you clocked out. Had teased you for it. Asked you if it was the highlight of your day, seeing him there, as if it wasn't the highlight of his.

You should have known the playful banter when he told you not to get used to it wasn't really banter at all.

Yet here you are, glancing across to his parking spot only to see it empty.

It's not even like it's his spot. Whenever he's with his friends, they walk. Live right on campus, so don't need to drive, and if they do, they'll park right by the doors.

In the height of summer, when the lot was empty and Jungkook wasn't driving for his sake but for yours, he liked to park in the far corner. Said dumb shit about not wanting any weirdos scratching it. Whined and moaned whenever someone performed the very human act of parking next to the only other car in an empty parking lot.

"So many spaces!" He'd blather on. Would speak with his hands. Get deliberately more animated, 'cause it always made you laugh. "And they choose here?!"

The memories make you smile, until the yellow headlights of another car flood into the parking lot. They reveal what's right in front of you; a crowd of cars and not a single one of them you care for.

It's not like you cared for Jungkook, either. Was just something to pass the time when the streets were quiet and his head was loud.

In turn, you gave him quiet, and he made your summer feel loud.

But the leaves are turning brown and the water in the roadside puddles is becoming stale. The seasons have changed and so has the nature of your interactions. It's fine. You don't care. Really. Couldn't think of anyone you'd want to hang around less. Would rather die than associate with The Untouchables.

You never needed a lift, not really. Especially not when it always took you an hour to get home 'cause Jungkook just wanted to keep on driving.

Grumbling to yourself just to try and divert your mind from thoughts of him, your heart almost skips a beat when your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second, you wonder if it could be him.

Where you at? It could read. I'm here.

Or maybe, I miss you.

I can't sleep without you.

This is so stupid. Can I come over?

It won't say of those things and you damn well know it.

Your text thread is dormant. The last message is from you, two weeks prior.

You: you not coming in tonight?

You: you'll be pleased to know my fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage to make sure i got home safe x

You: ... at least let me know if ur alive?

Rolling your eyes at how mortifying your desperation feels, the scowl that settles into your expression is comical. It's like you're fighting with the wind that's threading itself through your hair.

Pulling your phone out, the scowl only intensifies.

Jackass Wang: party tonight

You: so????

One thing about Jackson is that he's not gonna leave anyone on read, especially when he's trying to drum up attendees for his parties.

Jackass Wang: so i haven't seen you around for a while, montgomery

"Fuckin' Montgomery," you mutter at the nickname.

It's the one that all of Jungkook's friends seem to refer to you as, as if you don't have a personality outside of your job.

Still, at least Jackson is a little bit inventive with it. Calls you Monts. Monty, Monstera Plant, Monte Carlo, and god knows what else. If it starts with 'Mon,' he's found a way to end it with a cheeky smirk and smug anticipatory look in your direction, as he awaits your reaction.

You: i like it better when i don't see you x

Jackass Wang: you know that isn't true. loverboy will be there. come with him. or don't. i don't care. you can bring your little friends with you.

You: they'd rather die :) x

Jackass Wang: y'know, you're replying an awful lot for a girl who's not interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You: you just can't take no for an answer

Jackass Wang: yes i can - but you haven't said no yet. c'mon. loverboy has been moping around all week. i can't be arsed with his mardy ass energy all evening.

You: so don't invite him???? i don't see why it's my problem?????

The fact that you don't need clarification of who Jackson means is proof enough that perhaps Jackson's onto something.

Jackass Wang: conservatory any time after 9. be there or be square montgomery. or don't be. i'm sure loverboy can get his dick wet without you, but it's easier for everyone if he doesn't.

You: charming x

Jackass Wang: it's why the ladies love me.

You: all of them except this one, apparently. have a nice party. stay away from the drugs.

Jackass Wang: can't be tamed, monte carlo. nor can loverboy. come keep him company.

The block button towards the top of your message thread looks incredibly tempting. Just a single click and you'll never have to deal with Jackson Wang and his dumb parties ever again.

Part of you can't believe you've ever been associated with them, as it is.

Summer defied the conventions of the life you've built for yourself. You weren't the person you thought you were.

Kicking off your shoes when you arrive home, the door slams shut behind you. A gentle voice calls through to check if it's you.

"Maria's still working," you say as you walk into the kitchen, tossing your bag down on the floor and your phone on the counter.

Taehyung, your best friend since your first week at college, is cooking himself dinner, but offers you a spoon of the tomato sauce he's making. Humming as you taste it, you're amazed by how he manages to make even the simplest thing delicious.

"S'good. What is that? Cumin?"

Nodding, he smiles. "A little paprika, too. You want some?"

His hair is dishevelled, blonde and sunkissed from the sweltering summer skies. He always looks great with a tan; radiant and full of youth.

Shaking your head, you really don't have an appetite. "Think I'm gonna have an early night."

He's about to reply when your phone buzzes. Both of you glance down. Your skin feels red hot, and when Taehyung almost chokes on the spoonful of sauce he's just tried, he's all sorts of confused.

"Why the fuck is Jackson Wang messaging you?"

"Hmm?" You hum as if you have no idea what he's talking about. Realise from the look on his face that he doesn't buy it for a second. "Oh! That Jackson Wang. Think he sent a text to his entire contact list. Something about a party."

"No," Taehyung asserts. "Absolutely not. You cannot bullshit out of this one."

"It's not bullshit," you whine as you pretend to look in the fridge for something to drink. Settle on a beer left by one of Taehyung's friends at a party held last semester. It wasn't quite a Jackson Wang level party, but nothing ever is. "He's just trying to drum up numbers for his stupid party tonight."

Taehyung is many things, but stupid he is not. Though he's blonde (thanks to a bottle of bleach and a few too many jack and cokes), he bends all the stereotypes. His tuition is covered by a scholarship for academic excellence.

"Don't give me that bull."

"It's not bull!"

"So you're telling me, out of everyone at our college, the Jackson Wang is texting you to make up numbers for his party?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, partially a little offended at it being such an unfathomable idea. "And he said you can come too, so maybe you're the one he's really after!"

His expression is flat. You are paper thin.

He's known you long enough to know when you're giving him half-truths.

He also knows you spent the summer alone in this house, and that there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom next to yours.

"You're hooking up with him, aren't you?"

"No!"

Out of everyone to be accused of sleeping with, Jackson Wang is, like, the worst of the worst. He's handsome, sure, but he's also slept with pretty much every girl on campus. Is a teenage boy in a grown adult's body. You'd rather not fornicate with a guy who still finds 'your mum' jokes funny.

Taehyung gasps at your immediate denial. "You are!"

"I'm not!"

"All that talk about saving it for someone special, and you mean to tell me you went and lost it to Jackson fuckin' Wang?!"

Everything about this conversation is making you want to punch yourself in the face. The topic of sex, and just why you've never gotten around to it, has dominated many conversations around this dining table. If you have to discuss it again, you might move out.

"Oh my God," you whine, throwing your head back. "We are not having this conversation."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we're not, because I didn't lose my virginity to Jackson Wang!" You stress. The more you think about it, the more offended you are.

"To Jackson Wang," Taehyung echoes, as he begins to join invisible dots. "But you did lose it to someone."

"No," you insist, but Taehyung refuses to buy it. Knows you too damn well.

He always thought he'd know when you lost it. That it'd be a boy you'd been dating. Committed to. Someone good. Someone worthy. Not someone you keep in the shadows.

"There's something you're not telling me," he frowns. "What the fuck happened this summer?"

With a sigh so deep it's a miracle you're still breathing, you relent. Never signed one of those NDA's you're convinced Jungkook must hand out like candy, as if he's some sort of celebrity and not just some college reprobate.

"Jungkook," you feebly admit. Take a sip on your beer. Don't look at Taheyung, 'cause you're afraid to see his reaction. "Wasn't Jackson. Was Jungkook."

You tell Taehyung everything. How Jungkook never knew you were a virgin. How he still doesn't. How you blame yourself for your hurt, but him for not getting you any band aids to help deal with it; for not kissing you better when he was the one to cause you such hurt in the first place.

As you recite you memories, you play a game against yourself: take a sip every time you want to cry.

By the time you've told Taehyung the nitty-gritty truth, the bottle of wine that had been in the fridge is finished, as well as your beer.

"I can't believe this," Taehyung says for what feels like the billionth time.

There's a certain shame that comes with Taehyung's confusion.

Embarrassment, like the way Jungkook would cringe at himself whenever he stumbled on his words, or the way you'd covered your reddening cheeks with your hands when he teased you for looking at him in the way you did.

Remorse of time wasted before him, and time wasted with him.

Regret of the things you did and the things he didn't.

It's all very confusing. Exhausting. If you were to really think about it, you'd spend a week in bed with a box of tissues. Would ask Taehyung why he didn't warn you that a heart could feel this horrid.

But he did, and you damn well know it.

Shrugging, you reach for the bottle and split the final few glugs between your glasses.

"We were just bored," you play it off. "Had nothing better to do. No one better to do."

But Taehyung shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, yanno. Pretend like it didn't matter. It's okay that it did. Even if he is a prick, and even if he's no better than the rest of them. It's okay that it hurts."

You're silent when he says this.

Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player.

But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another.

Whoever he was pretending to be in the summer isn't who he is now that his friends are back—but when they're laughing and joking in the basement of the Conservatory that evening, Jungkook knows which version of himself he prefers.

"You need to get laid," Jimin tells Jungkook with a laugh. "Never seen a man look so bloody miserable at a party."

Of all the things Jungkook needs, getting laid is not one of them. In fact, he thinks it would be a very sensible idea if he never got laid again. Sex is messy. People get all emotional over it.

Or more so, he gets all emotional over it.

Had never been the type to, before. Always thought it was something that just happened to other people. Not to him.

He pushes the thoughts aside. Feels a little sick. Shrugs off Jimin's remark.

"If I wanted to get laid, I would get laid."

"So why don't you? Will do us all a favour. Claudia's been—"

"I couldn't give a fuck," Jungkook interrupts Jimin. "I'm not interested."

He never has been. Wants nothing to do with this university, and the men that run it, and so would never date one of their daughters.

They're all corrupt. Every last one of them. All cheat on their wives. All throw their families under the bus for their own selfish exploits. His own father's affair has proven this to him.

Jungkook pities his friends. Just because their parents haven't fucked up yet, doesn't mean they won't.

"Oi, Loverboy," Jackson calls from across the room, breaking the tension only to replace it with a headache for Jungkook. "Where's your little girlfriend? I told her to come."

"Who?" Jimin chirps.

Jungkook grates his jaw. Is deadly serious when he says, "Leave it, Jackson."

"Trouble in paradise for our lovebirds, huh?"

"I said leave it."

"Who the fuck is he talking about?" Jimin continues to ask, incredibly curious about this turn of events. Leave town for a couple of months, he thinks, and everything changes.

"No one."

"That one from the diner," Jackson just continues fuckin' talking. Jungkook wants to scream. "The one with a stick up her ass—"

"Jackson, cut it out," Jungkook snaps. "She's no one. Just fuckin' leave it."

"You ashamed, huh, Loverboy?" Jackson berates him a little bit. He isn't trying to be a dick, but he thinks Jungkook is acting like a tool. Jackson is no saint, but at least he doesn't ever pretend to be something he's not. "Poor girl. Wear her like your favourite pair of shoes all summer and then throw her to the trash when your friends come back? I thought better of you. So did she, probably. Shame."

Of all the people Jungkook ever expected to receive lessons in morality from, Jackson Wang was not the one. He parades himself around the Conservatory like Hugh Hefner reincarnated, his class attributed to money and not behaviours.

"The fuck have you been doing this summer, Kook?" Jimin laughs, utterly dumbfounded by his reactions.

They've all had their fair share of less than conventional lovers. If Jungkook has been fucking around with a girl from the Diner, then so what? Who cares?

"Nothing," Jungkook snaps.

It's not that he's ashamed.

It's that you're separate.

When he's with you, all of this—the bullshit of college life and calamity of his family falling apart—dissolves into nothingness. He doesn't have to think. Finds himself at ease.

If you were to ever become a part of his life—his real one, not the one he got so used to living in with you over the summer—then it'd all change.

He doesn't want that.

He wants you to be a safe haven.

A refuge point can't be in the midst of a fire, though. He has to keep you away. At arms length.

But god damn, he wishes you would come and put out his fire. He's struggling. Finds existing without you so fucking hard. Doesn't know at which point he became so dependent, but knows his oxygen is running low.

He's suffocating. Isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up.

"Yeah, sure seems like nothing," Jimin smirks with a shake of his head as Jungkook storms off to get some much needed air. "Oi, Jackson, what was that all about?"

With a shrug, and yet another girl on his arm, Jackson grins. Puts on a pathetic little voice to mimic Jungkook's tantrum. "Fink baby boy has a wittle cwush."

"Girl from the diner?" Jimin implores, still smirking at Jackson's dumb humour. "Which one?"

"You really have to ask?"

For all of his mystery, Jungkook has never been a man of subtleties. His eyes give him away.

They always have done.

When he was looking at the menu board earlier that day? It was obvious.

Before college broke up for summer, and how Jungkook would always cast his eyes down to his hands whenever you, specifically, came to take their order? It was obvious.

How Jungkook would always make sure he was on the side of the booth that gave him ample opportunity to steal glances of you? It was so fucking obvious.

Sometimes he'd laugh at the slightly sarcastic remarks you gave Claudia whenever she would ask irritating questions about the menu.

When they were deciding where to eat, Jungkook would suggest the Montgomery's Diner, always.

So, no, Jimin doesn't really have to ask.

"Stupid prick," he sighs, sipping on his beer. Loves Jungkook to absolute death, but will never understand him. Figures that maybe you do. Worries that Jungkook is about to wreck it all. He calls after Jackson, "She here tonight?"

"Invited her," he calls back. "But she's got an attitude problem to rival his. Fuck knows if she's around. You'll feel her ice before you see her."

Which is funny, because the lingering summer heat sticks to your skin as you nervously meander up a driveway you know all too well.

The Conservatory is decidedly not a conservatory.

It's a complex. A maze of buildings, and greenhouses, and fuck knows what else. You've no interest in gardening, but if excelling at it meant living somewhere like this, maybe you'd consider taking it up as a hobby.

The buildings are mostly redbrick, with large windows, and even larger doors. It's the kind of place you'd imagine a Duke of some far away land prancing about in. Playing croquet, or secretly courting a lowly village girl that his parents will never approve of.

The irony isn't lost on you.

"Wait, how do I look?" Taehyung asks for what feels like the hundredth time. "Not too dressy?"

"You're wearing a waistcoat," you reply, face twisted in affectionate condemnation. He looks great, but he also does look far too dressy. It's his 'look', though, and one that'll get him attention, both good and bad.

If Kim Taehyung walked around with the arrogance his handsome face warranted him with, he'd be the heartthrob of the campus. You think even Claudia would want a slice of him—and given his distaste for the elite yet pining desire to be on their level, it'd be quite the complex pairing.

All of the other men here are in t-shirts, but Taehyung has never been like other men. It's part of the reason you like him so much.

One thing, however, you don't like about Taehyung is his domineering need to 'fix' things. It comes from a place of love, and he only ever does it because he cares, but it's not always in your best interest.

When he told you to go and get changed out of your work uniform, you thought he was planning on taking you to a bar. That you'd be drowning your sorrows over wine you can't afford.

You would never agree to go to the Conservatory. Not now.

Which is why he didn't tell you of his plan.

Instead, he ordered a cab and didn't give you the chance to protest. You were already halfway there by the time you realised.

"Why don't we just go home?" You whine, tugging on his arm as you stand by the gate that leads through the gardens—the same ones you used to traipse around in with Jungkook. "We don't need to be here."

"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, firmly standing his ground. "I've avoided this place for two years, and the second my back is turned it becomes your new home. The least you could do is invite me round for dinner."

"It's not my new home—"

"MONTGOMERY!"

The voice of Jackson Wang yelling across the front lawn makes you want to shrivel up and die. Sink down into the ground. You'd make great compost for the botanists.

"Y'know, you and Loverboy really need to stop lying so much," he says with an incredibly intoxicated grin as he lumbers towards you. You'll never admit it, but part of you is pleased to see him. "First you saying you weren't coming, then him telling everyone nothing happened between you. Both as bad as one another."

Nothing happened between you.

It doesn't surprise you, but it does sting. And it also confuses you. Why on earth would you be a topic of conversation? The people here know you as Montgomery. The girl from the diner. You're nothing but a background character to them.

"What did he say?" You ask, disregarding everything else, not even bothering to introduce Taehyung. He's finding all of this incredibly bewildering.

"Oh, Jimin was grilling him," Jackson waves his hands around, disregarding it. "Kept saying you were no one. Refused to admit that he'd practically tied his laces with yours for the whole summer. Don't you worry, though, Monte Carlo. I had your back. Set the record straight."

Jackson Wang having your back isn't something you ever expected to happen.

Jeon Jungkook's absolute denial of your clandestine affaire de cœur is, disappointingly, something you expected.

It doesn't mean that it comes without hurt. If anything, it's far more visceral, for you only have yourself to blame. These wounds are self-inflicted, even if they're carved with a knife Jungkook crafted out of silly affirmations he never should have made.

"Where is he?" You ask, cold in your tone.

Jackson shrugs. "Try the basement. S'where I last saw him."

As Jackson saunters off to find another poor partygoer to mildly offend, you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You've been irritated since you saw Jungkook earlier that day.

How he can just show up at the diner and act like he doesn't even know you, let alone knows what it's like to wake up next to you, is beyond insulting.

"C'mon," Taehyung urges you along. "I need a drink, and you could use three."

Conversely, you think you need an entire bottle.

A bottle of what, you don't care. Just something strong. Anything other than the shitty, overpriced whisky Jungkook always insisted on drinking.

"Fine. But we're not going to the basement."

It's perplexing to walk the halls of the Conservatory without Jungkook; to pass by strangers who have no idea who you are, but who know and admire him as if he's some sort of Hollywood celebrity.

They don't know him like you do. Don't know what it feels like to have his hand around their throat, or his fingers gently intertwined with theirs. They've never heard him laugh like you have.

And yet when you're a few drinks deep, and on the verge of calling a cab to go home, you hear that laugh again and wonder how he can bear to be happy right now.

Glancing up, his face is unreadable. The lights are dim, and the shadows obscure the painful furrowing of his brows. He looks just the same as he did back in the diner earlier that day. Perplexed. In pain. Somehow perfectly fine, too.

The group he's in is small. Some of them you know, some of them you don't.

Claudia sits across from him on the lap of some other guy, yet she doesn't take her eyes off Jungkook. She laughs a little harder at his jokes. Directs questions to him. Flirts with other people in front of him to no avail.

Not even now, after summer when her skin is sunkissed and her radiance is rejuvenated, can she keep his attention.

In fact, none of them can once he spots you from across the room. The big lights are off, fairy lights strung up, and a sunset lamp pours a clementine hue over you.

Summer becomes you, he thinks—adores—from afar.

The year is a body, and you're eternally condemned to its heart. That's where he'll keep you. Where you belong.

Had it been spring—the brain of the year—when he'd been hauled up in that diner, he never would have let things get as far as they did.

Had it been winter—the cunt of the year, for lack of a better term—he would have let it get that far, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it, either.

But Autumn is drawing close. The gut. The time to trust his intuition, and he damn well knows it.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from his car crash eyes. Jungkook slips into the dull shadows of the room, right where he belongs. Was foolish of you to ever think otherwise.

"Do you mind?" you snap, but let yourself be dragged away regardless. Part of you hopes it'll make Jungkook do something. You're not sure what. Just something.

The man who is leading you astray is familiar. Recognisable. Park Jimin.

Though he's not aggressive, he definitely isn't gentle as he leads you out to the gardens. Lets go of your wrist by an overgrown shrub just beyond the benches that are made for drunken DMC's. He isn't after one of them. Wants the facts.

"Cut the bullshit," he says.

"No hello?" You chirp. "Nice to see you? Or better yet, an introduction?"

"You know who I am," Jimin tells you, expression flat. You hate that the arrogant fucker is right. "But I know fuck all about you, and apparently you're the reason Jungkook is walking around like death warmed up. So cut the bull. What happened?"

Frankly it's none of Jimin's business. Even if he's done you wrong, Jungkook trusted you. You're not gonna throw that back in his face and air his dirty laundry—especially not considering that Jimin is Jungkook's friend. If Jungkook wanted him to know, he'd have told him.

"Nothing," you tell him. "Barely even know him."

Jimin sighs. Jackson was right. There's a reason why you and Jungkook got along so well. Are both insufferable.

Glancing behind you, Jimin raises his brows.

You turn to face his line of vision, and fail to hide your surprise when you see Jungkook by the back door. Like a deer in headlights, he's frozen in place, his darling bambi eyes so startled he almost looks scared.

"So if you barely know him," Jimin continues as you and Jungkook stare one another out. "Why the fuck is he looking at you like he's seen a ghost?"

It takes a second or so, but you manage to pull your gaze away. Turn back to face Jimin. Shrug. Play dumb.

"Mistaken identity."

"Oh, I get it," Jimin smirks, knowing you aren't gonna give him an easy way out. Needs to bamboozle answers out of you. "You both went to the same bullshitting classes over summer? Is that it?"

You're surprised to find yourself smiling. Surprised that you find humour in Jimin's words. Surprised that you aren't rolling your eyes.

He's always been the Untouchable that has annoyed you the most. Is too loud. Laughs at the most obnoxious things.

"Top of the class," you reply because it somehow feels okay to joke with him. Perhaps spending so much time with Jungkook has lowered you Park Jimin-related intolerance. Not cured it, by any means, but definitely made it easier to manage.

"Academic rivals," Jimin supposes, realising that maybe there's a little more to you than he's ever given you credit for. "That's pretty hot."

"He seemed to think so," you lament, knowing that you're revealing a far more truthful rendition of your time spent with Jungkook. Or at least, admitting that time was spent together.

With a sigh, you walk a little further into the garden. Cross your arms. Look back over your shoulder to the door, only to find Jungkook is gone. It shouldn't upset you like it does, but you find your lips pressing together in a small pout.

"Look," Jimin says, exhaling a breath so deep you're sure his lungs must be empty. He comes to stand beside you, looking across the vast expanse of the gardens. "I'm not asking for your life story. If you don't give a shit about Kook, then that's fine, I'll leave you alone. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this."

Glancing at Jimin, there's a taut discomfort on your face. Guilt, almost—but you've not done anything wrong. It's on him. He's the one who chose for things to be this way.

"I give a shit," you quietly admit as you look back out towards the garden, then sigh out a pitiful laugh. "You know him. You know what he's like. Of course I give a shit."

Quite honestly you think it's impossible to not fall for Jungkook. He's everything you're hardwired to appreciate: hardworking, charming, incredibly funny. You lost count of how many nights dissolved into laughter with him. Had never known your cheeks to hurt so much.

He was gentle, too. Stroked his thumbs against your cheeks just as often as he made them ache.

It's your heart that's aching now, and he's not around to soothe your woes.

Back inside, Jungkook feels so viscerally unwell that he thinks he might be sick. Or maybe he's actually dying. One of the two.

This is everything he didn't want. You were supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a sanctuary away from this all.

You're in the thick of it, now. Jimin is grilling you, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do. It's too much. All of it. The party, the people, the fact that you look at him with ice in your eyes when he knows damn well they used to harbour the warmest of fires.

Beelining for the basement, he kind of hopes the ground will swallow him up. Stop him from making the bad decisions he seems to find so god damn irresistible.

As he yanks open the small fridge at the back of the basement, Jungkook doesn't care what he drinks. Just needs something to help soothe his fragile mine; to make him feel better, 'cause lord knows you won't.

Reaching for a beer, he doesn't ask around to see if it belongs to anyone. Finders keepers. He's an Untouchable. This place is basically his by birthright. No one is gonna argue against him.

But Kim Taehyung isn't just anyone.

"So, when you apologise for being a gargantuan pillock, are you planning on also trying to win her over? Or will you just clean your conscience and wipe yourself clean of her, too?"

Jungkook's jaw tenses as his teeth grit together. "Don't know what you're on about."

"Had a girl in tears at my dinner table earlier tonight," Taehyung exaggerates. Just wants Jungkook to feel as awful as he knows you do. "Your friends might not give a shit about your well-being, but I give a shit about mine."

And for some reason, this irks Jungkook. He gives a shit about you. Cares so much he's been torturing himself by staying away. Thinks it's better for you both.

If it truly was, neither of you would be feeling so gut-wrenchingly awful.

He knows you're angry. You've made that perfectly clear.

But he also knows you do cry when you're frustrated. Was a lesson learned when you were stressed over the diner roof leaking one night during the monsoons when no one else was in to help you fix it.

It was the first night he offered you a lift home. Had taken pity on you. Had also liaised with the college maintenance guy to check it out the next day, even if the diner wasn't technically part of campus.

Because Jungkook does give a shit about your well-being, and he refutes the claim that he doesn't.

"So what? You here to tell me to stay away?" Jungkook scoffs as he prizes off the cap of the bottle. Swigs down a sip. Then another, 'cause he's not wankered enough for this.

"I'm here to tell you that you're an asshole," Taehyung asserts. "She didn't deserve to be used by you for the summer and then tossed to the trash just because semesters starting up again."

The roll of Jungkook's eyes is so weighted that it almost feels as if they'll get lodged in the back of his skull. The last time they'd rolled that deep was in bed with you. Back then it was because his body was so divinely out of sync that his muscles couldn't keep up with his actions. This time, pleasure is the furthest thing away from how he's feeling.

"You want me nowhere near her, but the fact I'm staying away makes me an asshole?" Jungkook petulantly laughs. "Can't ever fuckin' win, can I?"

"This isn't about winning or losing," Taehyung argues back. "She trusted you."

Jungkook doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. He's not betrayed your trust. Has kept all your secrets. Tried his best to keep you secret, too.

"What was she to you, huh? Some project? A virginity to get under your belt? Something to pass the time—"

"I don't know who you think I am," Jungkook snaps, fed up being accused of something he's not. "But not once did I ever treat her badly, okay? I—" He cuts himself off. Doesn't know how to articulate himself. "We— Look, you just don't get it. You don't know me. I was nothing but fuckin' nice. Okay? And she was nice. And it was nice. And we..." He trails off. Realises what Taehyung said. "The fuck do you mean, 'virginity to get under your belt'?"

It's about now that Taehyung realises he's said too much.

But every cloud has a silver lining.

"Talk to her," Taehyung shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Not me."

He leaves a scowling Jungkook by the fridge. Heads to the stairs, and once he reaches the top, is yanked away by a small but mighty force.

"You," Jimin asserts. "With me. Now."

The sound of three knocks on the bathroom door serve as a signal: let me in.

A panicked text from Taehyung had practically begged you to go to the basement bathroom and wait for him there. Said there was drama that he needed to talk with you about.

And you believed him, 'cause you're a few too many drinks deep and honestly could do with the respite.

Perched up on the countertop by the sink, you reach over and unhook the latch, giving Taehyung the all clear to come on in. Your legs languidly swing and your shoulders are slumped, this party well and truly over for you.

The only reason you're still here is because you know Taehyung's secretly been revelling in his first Conservatory party. You fear he'll want to come every weekend, now.

"You better not have your cock out," a playful voice you know all too well jokes, as the door pushes open. Eyes closed as he enters, he shuts the door behind him. Asks, "Am I safe to open my eyes?"

You're gonna kill Taehyung.

In the most loving but brutal way, you will absolutelymurder him for setting you up like this.

"Safe," you grimace.

Jungkook doesn't open his eyes. In fact, he presses them even tighter together. Frowns. "Jimin isn't in here, is he?"

"We've been bamboozled," you sigh, and as much as he doesn't want to, Jungkook smiles at your choice of words. Tips his head down, and open his eyes. Is a little too scared to look your way, for fear of being greeted with wrath.

"Their days are numbered," Jungkook assures you, quickly glancing across to try and work out how you're feeling.

"My sentiments exactly."

Jungkook goes to speak, but you both notice a grating metallic noise by the door. Immediately, Jungkook presses his hand down on the door handle, but there's absolutely no give. It won't budge

"Jimin," he calls, voice strong and domineering through the wooden panels. Hastily painted white, they're chipped and tarnished; covered in numbers and Instagram handles, rumours and declarations of love. It's not your first time locked in this bathroom with Jungkook, but the last was of your own choice. Had been you turning the lock with a smile and glint in your eyes that had promised him trouble. "Open it up."

"No can do," Jimins smugly sings from beyond the door. "Sort your shit out."

Hopping off the counter, you nudge in front of Jungkook to pound against the door with an open fist. Though he steps back, it's still the closest you've been with him since he left your bedroom a couple weeks ago. Part of you laments the fact he moved away from you. Part of him does, too.

"Tae," you try calling instead, hand banging on the door, but you're met with the exact same response.

"Figure it out," he calls back, but also adds, "And if he's still an insufferable asshole in five minutes time, I'll come let you out."

Despite everything, you laugh at this. Not so much because of Taehyung's words, but because Jungkook's face screws up like an old newspaper.

"What is it with him and calling me an asshole?" Jungkook mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.

The bathroom is small—just a toilet and sink built into a cabinet. There's a mirror covering the back wall over it, and another cabinet above it that you assume is filled with empty bottles and misplaced lipglosses. There's barely even enough room to breathe, although there is enough room to make Jeon Jungkook come undone in the least dignified of ways. You should know.

You wish you didn't.

"He calls you one because you are one," you assure him.

"Excuse me?"

"What?" You scoff, hopping back up on the counter, your eyes on his 'cause you want to watch the way he gets nasty. Wanna remind yourself of how horrible he can be. Replace the memories of him in this bathroom, 'cause in all reality, they're actually really lovely. Nice, even. Warm. Everything you're trying to convince yourself he's not. "Gone deaf as well as turned into a massive prick?"

"Jesus Christ," he says, rolling his eyes, turning back to face the door. Shakes at the handle. "Give it a rest."

"Why?" You ask as if butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. "Would it make life easier for you if I just wasn't around?"

Jungkook knows what you're doing. Has bickered with you enough times to understand your tricks. This is how you start; put words in his mouth that he can't defend against.

And so he doesn't try.

"Yep," he declares, turning to face you. "Way easier. Can you tell your friend I'm an asshole, still? Get us out of this place?"

You recline in defiance. Perched up on the counter next to the basin, your back is against a mirror. Legs crossed, you're in the same white summer dress you wore to your first party at the Conservatory.

Nearly everyone had been away for the summer.

You had spent the evening tucked up together on an armchair meant for one, him in the seat, you perched on the armrest, feet in his lap.

"People will talk, y'know," you'd assured him, elbows on your knees, chin in your palms.

"So let them talk," he'd smirked. "What's there to say? We're just sitting?"

It was strange for him to be seen with you. Even Jackson has been confused, but let it slide 'cause another partygoer is another partygoer. He cared for numbers, not names.

"Dunno," you had teased. "Might start talking about the way you look at me."

"Yeah?" He'd husked as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gently pulled you closer.

"Yeah," you'd whispered, the sound of the music keeping your conversation obscure. "How long has it been that you've been looking at me for? A minute, already? Only one more until you fall in love, according to science."

"You tryna make me fall in love with you, Montgomery?"

"No," you'd innocently chirped, then pulled back. "Why? Were you?"

He'd shrugged. Sipped on his beer. "Guess we'll never know."

Looking at him now, you find it hard to believe he's the same person as he was back then.

"Why would I do that?" You feign naivety. "You're not an asshole?"

He doesn't reply. Knows you're going somewhere with this. Leans his back against the wall opposite you and folds his arms as if to say, go on.

"Assholes fuck people over," you state. "You'd never do that. And you'd definitely never spend your summer in some poor girls sheets and then pretend like she doesn't exist in front of your friends—"

"There is it," he confirms. Knew it was coming. Didn't expect you to actually try and speak about things like adults. So fuckin' childish.

"Oh?" You chirp. "So you're well aware of the fact you're an asshole? Good. Glad we have that one sorted out."

"Yep," he confirms, mouth drawing to a thin line.

The fact he isn't engaging in the fight infuriates you. Just proves he doesn't care. That he fucked you over for sport.

"I'm an asshole," he says, voice full of snark. "You know it, I know it. There's no reason why you should want to be around me. No reason why you should waste your time."

"It's so funny," you gasp in fake surprise. "I was thinking the exact same thing! Isn't it so great that you came to this conclusion after you already wasted months of my life?"

He's silent, now. Cowardly.

"Y'know I always knew you were an obnoxious prick," you say, voice now soberly quiet. "But I didn't think you were this cruel, Kook."

"You know that's not—"

"What?" You interrupt, voice growing louder with each question. "Not true? You woke up in my bed one morning, and then never spoke to me again. Who does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" He shouts, and it surprises you both.

Raking his hand through his hair as he turns away from you, Jungkook wishes he had an answer. Wishes he could explain himself in a way that made sense to you both. Instead, he harshly swallows down his anger. Turns to face you again. Looks like he might cry.

Feels like it, too.

"Why didn't you tell me, huh?" He quietly asks.

"Tell you wha—"

"That you were a virgin."

Your previous thoughts about murdering Taehyung return. Of all the things he could have divulged to Jungkook, and that's what he chose?!

Men, you internally scoff. All fuckin' idiots.

"Hardly relevant, is it?"

"Of course it is," he snaps, turning back to face you. "If I'd have known—"

"You'd have what? Ghosted me sooner? Made it into a fun little competition?"

"I didn't ghost you."

"Gaslighting, too, now are we?" You scoff. "Hold on, let me go and get my bingo card. Things Jungkook does that are absolutely fucking infuriating. Wanna cross it off the list. It's right next to how fast you drive your car, and how much I hate your stupid fucking alarm tone."

"Well good job you never have to hear it again, isn't it?"

"Why not? 'Cause you are ghosting me?"

"No, because this is fuckin' stupid," he says, yanking on the door handle, on the off chance it will finally budge. It doesn't. "You think I'm the devil reincarnated. You don't want me, so why bother with this? This is done. Us. Whatever the fuck it was. You never trusted me in the first place. Would have told me if you did. So just call your friend, tell him I'm an asshole. We're done."

"Oh, well you're two weeks too late for this conversation, don't you think?" you argue back with a cold laugh. "But has it ever occurred to you that my life doesn't revolve around you? That you aren't the reason I'm here? Jackson invited me."

"Ah, so that's what it is?" Jungkook sarcastically exclaims, your insatiable need to fight finally sinking into his skin. "You were just using me, huh? Getting those V-plates off, so you could be ready for him? Is that why you didn't tell me? Huh?"

The mere thought of hooking up with the college's very own Hugh Hefner makes you wanna gag—but if it'll piss off Jungkook, maybe you'll consider it.

"Why would you care if I let him fuck me?" You ask with such pointed anger Jungkook can't help but feel like you're driving knives into his chest. "Do that thing you like with my tongue? You think he'd like my pussy, huh? Maybe I'd let him fuck me raw."

You never let Jungkook go unprotected. Insisted on it each and every time, and he complied even if he was a little pouty about it after you'd been fucking for a while. The trust was there. You were on the pill. He knew he was clean and had told you as such, but it made no difference.

To even suggest you'd let Jackson fuck you raw is laughable.

With a smirk on his lips, Jungkook edges towards you.

Put his hands on your crossed knees. Waits for you to jerk him away—but you don't. Instead, you watch on with salacious confusion. Say nothing. Not even when he uncrosses them, nor when he spreads them apart.

With a hand either side of your head against the mirror, Jungkook stands between your legs.

Looks down at you.

Is so close you can smell his aftershave.

A month ago, in a position like this, you'd have kissed him.

"Hm?" You cock your head. Repeat your question. "You think he'd like my pussy? How long do you think he'd take to cum? Longer than you, I hope."

Jaw tense, Jungkook swallows down the way he wants to curse you out. Closes his eyes. Lets his head dip further, his forehead now resting against the top of your head.

The contact is minimal, but God, you've missed it. Trapped in position by him, you'd forgotten how lovely it was to lose yourself to Jungkook.

"You're not being fair," he whispers. Whines, even.

"Fair?" You laugh, but it's gentle. Matches his tone. "You can hardly take the high ground on fairness, Jungkook."

He nods. Takes a second, and then pathetically begs: "Don't fuck him. Please."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You know why," he says. Stands straighter, now. Rakes a hand through his hair. Looks down on you with such pained desperation you almost feel bad. He tries to speak, but struggles with his words again. Takes him a few attempts to get anything out. "I didn't like you because I was fucking you. I fucked you because I liked you. You know that. You know it wasn't...Fuck. You know what it was."

The past tense he speaks in cuts you up inside.

Jungkook shrugs in defeat when he's met with silence. Purses his lips. Eyes on yours, they're glassy. Watery, almost.

Yours are just as bad, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? He's the one that cut you out. He did this.

"What did I do?" You ask, voice meagre and pathetic. Your vulnerability is mortifying, and yet you just can't help yourself as a tear streaks down your cheek. "What the fuck did I do that was so wrong, Kook?"

The heat of his hand scalds your skin as his thumb wipes away your tears. After his cold shoulder for the past two weeks, your body doesn't know how to respond. Should you be angry? Hurt? Comforted?

All you know is that you're more confused now than you ever were when you first started hooking up with him.

"Nothing," he quietly promises. Holds your cheeks in his hands. Rests his nose beside yours. Is far too close for a man who's been trying to stay away from you. Is beginning to realise that maybe his self-preservation was thinly veiled self-sabotage instead. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but it's been so fuckin' miserable, and then I didn't know how to fix things, and then it was all such a mess and—"

The words Jungkook is yet to speak are lost in the soft press of your lips against his.

Brows furrowed, Jungkook's grip on your face tightens. Keeps you close, 'cause he feels the pressure of your lips waning but doesn't want you to pull away.

And so you don't. Instead you apply more pressure. Harder. Deeper.

It's not like kissing Jungkook is a new experience. You've done it upwards of a thousand times, now. You know his lips and his tongue, and how it likes to flick against yours; his piercings, and the frequency of his moans that vibrate into your mouth.

Kissing Jungkook is just as easy as it is hard. Easy, in the way he takes not a single considered thought. Hard, in how it becomes your only tangible thought for minutes, hours, days afterwards.

An eternity and a millisecond is lost in the kiss, just like the summer that lasted an age and yet was gone with the wind.

When your lips finally part, there's silence. Forehead resting on yours, Jungkook shakes his head ever so gently. Doesn't know how to articulate his thoughts. How to say sorry, or how to fix his mess.

While his logic was flawed, and his execution careless, his intentions had been good. As much as he had a life to go back to, and friends that wouldn't get it, so did you.

He knows they hate him—isn't ignorant to the roll of Maria's eyes every time they walk into Montgomery's, and has experienced Taehyung's disdain first-hand this evening.

He'd spent his summer getting out of the house to avoid the fall-out of his father's infidelity. Knows how much his family is suffering all because of a man who just couldn't control himself. Was trying to be better. Trying not to wreck both of your lives.

As he stands in the dingy bathroom of a party house, the lingering burn of your lips on his still smouldering, he knows that he wrecked you both regardless.

And so it's up to him to put you back together again.

"I'm sorry," you say as you break the kiss, mortified at how stupid of an impulse it had been. You don't that. Not anymore. A month ago, sure, kissing Jungkook in a dingy bathroom at a party house would have been exciting. Now, it just feels embarrassing. "I shouldn't have—"

His lips are on yours again, stealing your words from you. He doesn't want to hear you apologise. Knows that you don't need to. Also knows that he does need to.

"Don't," he quickly says between kisses. "Please, don't say sorry."

"But I—"

"Shut up," he smiles against your lips, shaking his head ever so slightly. He kisses you again, and this time it's soft. Pretty. Poetic, almost in how it makes you feel. And then he speaks, and you're reminded of just how easy it is to adore him, even when you know you shouldn't. "You know how much I've missed this? God, I've missed you so much. Please don't say sorry. I'm sorry. It's on me. I made a mistake, alright? I fucked up."

He pulls back. Has your cheeks in his hands as he makes sure your eyes are on his. They're dark, now, in the dim light of the bathroom you're in, but they've never been warmer.

"I mean it. I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. Brows furrowed, lips pouty, he's got the kind of face you're hardwired to trust. To adore. Or maybe, it's just him, in general, that you're inclined to feel this way about. "Okay?"

His large hard hands are still holding your cheeks, as yours wrap around his wrists. With a shake of your head, you shrug. Pout, too.

An apology is appreciated, but it's just words. It's his actions that have been upsetting you. Not his words (or lack thereof).

"We're gonna leave this bathroom and you're gonna pretend like I don't exist again," you tell him.

The frown on his face deepens. "That's not true. And that's not what I was trying to do in the first place, either. I just thought—"

"What? That it was a good idea to kiss me on my doorstep and promise you'd pick me up from work, only to never show? To ignore my texts? To—"

"No," he quietly admits, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I made the wrong calls—but I can make it up to you. I want to make it up to you." He rests his forehead against yours. Quietly begs, "Please."

Slowly, Jungkook nudges his nose up against yours. Waits for permission.

Beyond the door, loud music thuds through the room. It obscures the conversation you've been having, keeping you just as secret as you always have been.

It's not like you told any of your friends, either, and when it came to telling Taehyung, you weren't exactly forthcoming. Perhaps you would have been the one to pretend like he didn't exist, had he not done it first.

"I want you," he husks against your lips.

"You wanna fuck me," you correct him, lips tantalisingly brushing his with every word.

"True," he admits. "But I also wanna send you dumb memes again, and go for drives after work, and wake up in your bed. I wanna go for breakfast, and I still need to cook you my world-famous makguksu. I want to have not been a dick for the past two weeks, but I can't change that. I just wanna be what I once was to you again."

"And what was that?" You encourage.

There was never any label. Realistically, there's no right answer.

Or at least there isn't, until Jungkook just simply says, "Yours."

And what else can you do when confronted by such a pathetic, yearnful admittance from him, except to give into how you're feeling, too?

Frantic in the way your hands are on his body—his arms, his waist, around his throat—there's a neediness to you. One he's missed. One he reciprocates, as his large palms stroke up your spread thighs, then get your legs wrapped around his hips.

The movements of your bodies are so well nurtured by now that you know what comes next; how the bulge in his trousers will press against your covered pussy, and how you'll whine at the contact no matter how minimal.

"Fuck," you whine as his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. It's an old routine at this point. He knows exactly where to go, what to do. His fingers press against the wet fabric of your underwear, just gently enough to make you moan a little harder into his mouth.

"Oh?" He smirks when he realises just how needy you are, his fingers stroking against your slick panties. "Missed me, too?"

"You're an asshole," you tell him with a smile. As his fingers get firmer, you can't help but whine. "You know I have."

He pulls back to look down at your body. Pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. Curses when he realises the underwear you're wearing. Is his favourite pair. Red and lacy, there's a suspender belt to match it. While you're not wearing it right now, he's got pictures of you in it that belong in a fuckin' museum.

"Did you wanna fuck me tonight, huh?" He mumbles into your lips.

"Not everything is about you," you say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Except it is. They're your favourite pair too, simply for how insanely he reacted to seeing you in them. Sure you're not in the full set up, but it was enough to have you feeling ever so confident as you left the house with Taehyung.

As his lips press against yours, his finger hooks beneath your underwear. Tugs them to the side. Gets you exposed for him.

"No?" He husks, as his fingers begin to sink between your soaked folds. "So this isn't about me, huh?"

You shake your head. Lie. "Never been less turned on."

He plays into your little theatrics. Has always enjoyed them.

"So you don't want me to do this?" He asks as his middle finger sinks into your entrance.

"Can't even feel it," you pretend, as if his thick knuckles aren't stroking against you in just the right way.

"No?" He grits. Sinks a second finger inside you. Gets you whining again, nails gripping onto his arms. His fingers slowly pump into you, easing you into the way it feels for him to be inside you.

There's something electric about Jungkook. Sends shivers through your spine. Always knew exactly how to manipulate your pussy into doing whatever he wanted, and now is no different. As you clench around him, he's overcome with satisfaction.

"This is just my fingers," he reminds you. "I don't think you can handle my cock."

Scoffing, you're desperately trying to pretend you aren't melting for him. "Please, I can handle it just fine."

"Sure you can, baby," he teases with so much arrogance you kinda wanna fight him again—but it's also why you like him. He challenges you. Gets your brain in overdrive.

And when he crouches in front of the counter, eyes aligned with your exposed cunt, you think you might actually lose it entirely.

His hands are on your thighs, spreading you further, getting a good look at the mess between your legs. When he sighs, the shallow breath that escapes his lips feels like absolute sin against your wetness.

"Oh, you really haven't been fucked since me, have you?" He teases again. "Look at how fucking keen you are. Been missing my cock, huh?"

"My vibrator's been doing the job just fine," you assure him, but it has him pulling back to cock a brow in your direction. He knows many things about you that other people don't, but he was not aware you owned any sex toys. Finds that his cock only throbs even harder in his pants at this revelation.

"Maybe so," he husks, leaning closer just so he drags his flat tongue up your folds. Has to stop himself from moaning, 'cause the taste of you is somehow even better than his memories. "But it's not better than me."

With a point to prove, and a desperation to reclaim you as his own, Jungkook doesn't entertain chitchat any longer. He dives back in, tongue lapping against your lips as his fingers push back inside you. The way he curls them just right as his tongue flicks against your clit is enough to make anyone lose their head.

Hands tangling in his hair, you find your body responding to him in the way it always does; pathetically, needily, hungrily. There's no dignity to be found.

His tongue works against you like a well trained craft, until his lips latch around your swollen bud and begin to lightly suck on it. When he hums in satisfaction—which he does often—the suction only grows stronger.

Gets you whimpering, "Like that. Fuck. Like that."

The build is just as undignified as you are. Your grip on his hair gets tighter, and the shake of your legs grows stronger. Dragging his tongue up and down your folds, he settles back on your clit. Flicks his pointed tongue against you until he knows you can't take it any longer and begins to suck again. Curves his fingers just right. Strokes you so gently that orgasm pours out of you like liquid gold. Guilds him into the most gorgeous aureate glow.

He doesn't ease. Keeps his lips wrapped around your clit. Makes sure you're spent.

When he finally releases you, he's breathing just as heavily as you are. Gets to his feet, fingers still plugged in your tight pussy. Is pleased to find you're just as insatiable as he is, pulling him in for the messiest of kisses as soon as you can. There's no care given for the fact he's covered in your arousal. You just want that tongue of his in your mouth—and when it is, you find yourself moaning from the withdrawal of his fingers.

Your hands reach to the waistband of his jeans to unhook his button. Get his zipper down. Your hands down the front of his trousers, when his thick cock is restricted by his tight boxer briefs. By the tip of his cock, a small wet patch resides; his desperation for you obvious. Gently rubbing your thumb across the pre-cum, all you can think about is his slit, and how you wanna kitten lick across it.

But it's been two weeks of near-constant pining, and all Jungkook wants is to bury himself inside you.

"Let me fuck you," he begs. "Please, baby."

If the girl who had first seen Jungkook in a shared lecture hall two years ago would have known she'd end up in a shitty bathroom with him begging for her, she'd have laughed. Wouldn't have believed it for a second.

Fresh-faced and so out of your comfort zone, the first few days at university were full of potential. It was before you had wised up to your place in the pecking order; when Jungkook was just a boy in your orientation class.

Skin kissed by European sun, there had been a radiance to him that seemed to captivate just about everyone. You weren't the only girl who had been sneaking glances his way.

You'd thought about him a lot in those first few weeks. Came to learn of his family ties around the same time you befriended Taehyung. Stopped seeing him around campus so much, and rarely ever thought of him.

But on those rare occasions you crossed paths, your gaze would always linger.

As he frees himself of his boxers, trousers suspended midway down his thighs, he gently rubs the tip of his cock between your folds and husks, "Always thought you were so pretty, y'know?"

Looking up at you for just a second, he smirks. Looks back down. Continues to rub himself against you, prepping himself with your slickness.

"Freshers week," he continues. "You never came to any of the parties."

The tip of his cock kisses your entrance, but doesn't penetrate. You stay in limbo just shy of what you both want.

"Had a stupid fuckin' crush on you," he admits. Has never acknowledged it before, but has always known. Kept it hidden. Safe. Secret.

"No, you didn't," you smile. He didn't even give you a second glance. Was always you seeking him out in lecture halls.

"I did," he says with absolute certainty. "You wore that little black sundress on our first day. Had ruffles on the shoulders."

It hangs in your wardrobe, a little out of style but still sweet in the right setting. You know the exact one he's talking about, because he's right. You did wear it on that very first day.

His cock nudges a little deeper. Enough to make you gasp, but not moan. Not yet. Gripping his arms, brows furrowed, you nod. He sinks himself just a little bit further. The feeling is overwhelming; fire on ice.

"Would have fucked you in that lecture hall, if you'd have let me," he smirks.

"You didn't even know my name," you counter, but he cuts your questioning off as he edges a little deeper, still. His hand dips to gently rub languid circles on your clit. He's not pushing himself any further, not yet. Wants to ease into how this feels.

"I did," he admits. "Listened extra hard during the roll call."

"So this has all been some big elaborate scheme to get into my pants, huh?"

"Is it working?" he jokes, leaning over to yank the cabinet above the sink open. A few random bottles and packets clatter into the sink, but he doesn't care.

He's looking on the top shelf, rifling through old boxes, sending more miscellaneous objects to their untimely demise. Spotting what he's after, he's assertive as he knocks the cabinet shut. Passes you the box.

"S'all there is. They alright?"

"Sure," you say, pulling one of the foil packets from the box. You check the date stamped on the front—only to see it's a year out of date. Some protection would be better than none, regardless of the date, but fuck it. You're on the pill. "You haven't fucked anyone else? In the last couple weeks?"

"What?" His brows contort in confusion. "No."

His expression softens, but is still laced with confusion when you toss the box of condoms down into the sink.

"I don't care. I don't want them—"

You're cut off by the way Jungkook clasps your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. There's a seriousness to him now; the same demeanour he holds himself with when he was taking photographs. He's intentional. Assertive.

"Promise me," he says with stern certainty. "You want this?"

When he's got you like this—legs spread, body his to claim, your soul to take—it's impossible to do anything but comply. See, things with Jungkook are reciprocal. Your feelings, your tortured misunderstanding of how a relationship could ever work, and his seriousness, now, too.

"I promise," you swear.

As a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his hands stroke down your spread thighs, pushing you a little further open for him.

"Can't unfuck me," he softly reminds you. Is taking his time not for the anticipation, but because he's scared. "If you fuck me raw—"

"Then I fuck you raw," you simply repeat, knowing that it's up to you to ease his woes. If anyone should be scared, it's you—yet there's a safety that comes with being with Jungkook. Smirk, then say, "Trust me. I know I can't unfuck you. I've been trying to forget—"

"Ouch," he laughs, nudging his nose up against yours.

"—but you're just..." you tailed off, not wanting to compliment him too highly. He's still in the dog house. "Memorable."

With a sardonic smile that he knows only means trouble, you reach down to grip his incredibly pert ass cheeks. Squeezing, just because you can, you encourage him to push even deeper into you—and he's the one who whines, now.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he praises with such pained desperation it almost sounds like he'll cry. He won't. It's just that he can't quite believe that he's raw inside you right now, and that you feel just as good as he always imagined. Better, even.

"Yeah?" You question, as you pull his hips closer, gasping as he finally sinks his full length into you once more. His fingers were thick, but they've got nothing on his cock. Like he's taken all the air from your lungs, your voice is all light and airy. Makes Jungkook even more insane.

"Yeah," he mumbles as he nods into a kiss that is just as feverant as his need to pulse his hips. He doesn't dare do it yet. Is waiting for you. "Feels so fuckin' good."

"So just fuck me," you hungrily moan into his lips.

You're challenging him deliberately, and it works a fucking treat when he pulls back with a grin. He doesn't withdraw himself, but he does pulse his hips ever so slightly. Keeps you plugged. Is just nudging even deeper into you as he keeps a hold on your thighs, keeping them spread nice and wide.

"Say please," he grunts as his pulsing becomes a singular deep thrust.

Your argumentative streak wants to fight.

You'll berate yourself later for the way you whimper, "Please."

His thick cock withdraws just a little to push back into you. He groans. Curses. Builds momentum. Speed.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours as he pounds himself into you is impossible to ignore. Your moans build. Double. Treble. He's grunting too, and then his lips are on your neck. It's a mess, quite frankly.

In the sordid shadows of this bathroom, your bodies become acquainted with an intimacy not yet bridged before. You can pretend to ignore each other in the hallways of your shared lecture buildings, but you'll never be able to ignore the desperation you have for one another. Jungkook was right. You can't unfuck him. And now he's fucking you raw, it only make it even more potent.

Harshly pulling himself out of you, Jungkook almost fuckin' cums on the spot when he realises how soaked he is from your arousal. It's not like it's a new thing, but skin on skin, it's so much more intense. Gasping from the sudden loss of pressure, you're a little unsteady. Lurch forward as if your body could stop him from withdrawing.

Holding the base of his thick shaft, Jungkook spanks against your pussy with his cock. Rubs your slick wetness around with his tip. Hooks his elbows under your thighs. Pulls you closer. Instructs, "Arms around my neck."

Wrapping an arm around your back, the other one tucks under your ass as he lifts you.

He turns. Presses your back to the wall, and lines himself up.

"Legs around me," he tells you, and as soon as you do, his cock pushes up into you again. He keeps you pinned against the wall as he begins to fuck himself into you, his lips pressing wet kisses to the curve of your neck.

The sight in the mirror behind him is lethal; his broad back covered by his shirt, but it doesn't matter. You know what he looks like. Know his muscles, and the valley of his spine, like the back of your own damn hand.

You wanna see it though. Give it a tug. Send him the right message. Get him tearing his shirt off and dropping it to the floor for you. Victory is so damn sweet.

"Kook," you whine as he really begins to get deep. "You're gonna make me cum."

"All over my cock, huh?" He grunts. "Gonna cum on cock, are you?"

His taunting only makes you whimper even more. "I'm so close."

And because he just likes to get you all whiney and needy, Jungkook stops. Puts you down. Gets you facing the mirror as you protest his unfair stealing of an orgasm.

But then he's lining himself up again, getting ready to take you from behind. Spanks your ass ever so quickly.

Sinking into you again, Jungkook curses. "Tighter like this."

"Good?" You pathetically check, and Jungkook can't help but think it's sweet.

"Yeah, babe," he promises, and pretends as if it's completely usual for him to speak to you so tenderly. "Feels so fuckin' good. Missed you so much, gorgeous. You and this tight cunt."

"Romance," you joke through your needy whines. He smirks at this, and delivers a curt little spank to your ass.

"I can be romantic," he assures you, as if you aren't being soundtracked by the sound of your skin slapping together, his thick cock fucking itself into your soaked hole.

His eyes rise from the steady gaze he'd had on your ass to your eyes.

Slowing himself, Jungkook holds his cock inside you without thrusting. Says, "I made that photo you took of us in your room my fuckin' phone wallpaper. I listen to that asmr guy you like before bed, every single fuckin' night. I keep one of your ribbons tied around my gearstick. That romantic enough for you?"

There's an incredibly bashful smile on your pretty face, which contradicts the way in which your pussy is tightening around him in the most lewd of ways. You're giggling when you say, "Shut up and fuck me."

But then he's giggling too, just how you like him to be. Says, "I missed your body, but I missed you more. Stupid."

"You're stupid."

"You're stupider."

"Kook," you laugh, as he's completely forgotten the task at hand. The way that he looks at you, you'd be forgiven for thinking he has. Truthfully, the connection he has with you is so much more than what sex has ever been for him before.

His hips lightly pulse, as he says, "Sorry. Where were we?"

"Think you were gonna make me cum."

"Ah, yeah. That. My bad."

His gentle thrusts begin to build pace once more. The grin on his face drops a little as he begins to concentrate on you. Watching him in the mirror, you're perplexed to be reminded of just how ethereal Jungkook looks when he fucks.

The deep ridge between his brows intensifies, as his mouth hands slack. His cheeks hollow a little, and his eyes remain entirely focused. Dark. Deep. Brooding.

As his hand dips around to gently stroke against your clit, Jungkook is just as taken away by the way you look. He isn't sure what it is that gets his heart so heavy in his chest, but he knows that he wants you to cum. Doesn't give a fuck about himself.

The walls of your cunt begin to tighten around his length as your moans deepen. You whine his name and he encourages a response, but neither of you can really talk. A numbness is washing over you, your balance unsteady.

"I'm gonna..." you begin, but find it impossible to finish.

"I know, baby," he nods all out of breath and desperately fucked out. "Give me what I want. Cum for me."

You trust and keep your eyes on him, but the nudging on his cock against your g-spot and the slow rubbing of your clit is just enough to tip you over.

"Kook," you whimper as your walls begin to tighten around him, but it's fruitless. There's a shake to your legs, and he's the only thing keeping you supported.

"Oh, fuck," he curses from the strength of your pussy around him. He's shaking just as much as you are. "Cream on this cock, baby. Oh, fuck. Yeah.Just like that. You're gonna make me cum, too. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard. All in your pussy. You want that, huh?"

It's as you're desperately whining, cumming all around his thick shaft that Jungkook feels his body lose control. There's a tightness to his balls, and a shudder to his sternum, that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your bedroom. Last time he was in you, more specifically.

"Kook," you whimper his name, and that's when Jungkook really can't hold back.

"Yeah, babe," he rasps, as his hard thrusts become pathetic stutters. "I'm cumming."

The announcement isn't needed, for you swear you can almost feel it as his thick cum begins to fill you. The lack of a condom makes it all the more primal, the way his body shudders indicative of just how much cum he's filling you up with.

His body collapses on yours a little, his clammy torso pressed to your back. The dress you're wearing is barely on properly, and the feeling of his skin against yours is catastrophic. As intimate as sex is, it's this right now, the beat of his heart thrumming against your spine that is the real disaster. How you can ever look him in the eye again is beyond you.

But then his lips are pressing chaste kisses to the curve of your neck, and his hands are squeezing at your hips. He doesn't pull out. Keeps himself warm inside you. Says, "How the fuck am I ever supposed to give you up, huh?"

That's the thing.

He isn't supposed to, and you damn well know it.

Reaching back for some tissue to help you out, Jungkook slowly withdraws. Holds his hand beneath your pussy, then replaces it with tissue. Turns you around and lets you take over.

"Here's a radical idea," you offer, not looking at him as you quickly make sure you're decent. Stay standing with your legs crossed, just in case. "Don't."

Pulling his shirt back over his head, Jungkook presses his back to the wall. There's a distance between you, yes, but you don't really feel it, 'cause it's purely physical.

And it's not like it lasts for very long either, 'cause Jungkook decides he needs to kiss you all over again.

"Alright," he whispers against your lips. "Say we don't. Say I wanna be yours. What the fuck do we do now?"

You shrug. The answers aren't yours to decide. It's up to you both.

"Well, firstly I'm gonna text Tae," you hum. "Tell him you're still an asshole and that I need to be let out immediately."

It's been half an hour.

He came to check on things about ten minutes ago.

The music might be loud, but not loud enough to drown out the way you guys fuck.

Summer had been quiet. In his car, in your empty house, you've never had to keep it down before. Didn't even realise quite how loud you were being.

Which is why Jimin is the one who unlocks the outside bolt with a smirk a few minutes later, Taehyung watching on with a little disgusted grimace a metre or so back.

"Gross," he whisper shouts at you, but then he's smiling, too. Notices how Jungkook touches you—the hand he has on the small of your back, and the way he clasps your hand as you begin to walk ahead of him—and finds it impossible to be mad.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, leading you up and out of the basement. "We're going to the diner."

"We?" You question, incredibly confused.

"We." He simply says. Doesn't leave it up for debate. Gathers up the rest of the Untouchables (though Claudia is noticeably absent), and tells them the same thing he told you. Drags Taehyung along as well.

Jungkook was scared of integrating you into his life, but there's no other way to do it. Has to rip the band aid off.

As you walk into Montgomery's, hand in hand with the boy who had spent his summer wasting away with you in here, both of you realise that maybe it isn't such a huge deal.

Or at least, you do until Maria clocks you. Eyes darting from you, to Jungkook, and then to your gently clasped hands, she's in a state of absolute shock. Almost drops her tray.

"Sorry, what the fuck?!"

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #jungkook fluff #college!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan ff #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #college au

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whumptober · 8 months

Text

Whumptober 2023

Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!

COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE

To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

And this years playlist can be found here.

There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!

We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2023 Prompt List

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”

No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”

Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”

No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”

Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”

No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”

No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”

Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”

Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”

No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”

Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”

No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”

No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”

Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”

Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”

No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”

Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”

No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”

Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”

Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”

No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”

Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”

No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”

Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”

No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”

Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”

No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”

Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”

No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”

No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”

Matches | Scars | “Let me see”

No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”

Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”

No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”

Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”

No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”

Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”

Alternatives List:

Betrayal

Aftermath of Failure

Brass Knuckles

Decoy

Body Modification

Playing Cards

Examination

Hunting

Drugging

Shaking

Panic

Broken

Miscommunication

Lab Rat

Reluctant Whumper

Event Info & Rules

~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.

The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)

#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.

Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?

You can create something based on:

The overall theme/lyric of the day

Prompt 1, 2 or 3

One or several of the alternative prompts

A combination of the above

Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?

When in doubt: JUST DO IT!

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.

Q. Will you reblog my post?

Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:

tag your post properly

post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.

Q. What if I don’t understand a prompt/theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe.

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle.

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes.

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.

Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?

No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit.

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst/emotional whump focus ok?

Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What is whump?

Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?

If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!

Q. How do I tag triggers?

tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore tw

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2023 tag.

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord or come into our ask box.

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

#whumptober2023 #whumptober 2023 prompts list #whumptober #prompts list #long post

7K notes · View notes

markster666 · 3 months

Note

Alas I have fallen for the radio demon! He is perfection and so is your writing! I’m sure you’ve got a lot of requests but I was hoping you could do an Alastor X fem! reader where she likes pulling/gripping his hair while he *ahem* breeds her? Her kink is bearing his demon spawns! = u =

Mmmm gotta love the Radio Demon! Saw this request at work and was like "I'm immediately writing this when I get home" sooo here we are! Thank you so much for your request and hope this is what you were looking for. Lots of love.

ALASTOR THE RADIO DEMON X READER (SMUT/18+) - Breeding B*tch

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: Shameless Smut, 18+, Breeding, Hair pulling, Porn without much Plot, Pet kink, Pet play, Impregnation kink, etc.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 878

A/N: Thank you so much to @lingeringherealways for taking time out of your day to put in this request and trust me with it! I absolutely adored this prompt the second I read it and had to write it out before I head to bed. Unedited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. Requests are open.

The entire Hazbin crew (except for you and Alastor) decided to go on an outing. Charlie wanted to try and recruit sinners on the streets and offer them refuge in return for possible redemption. She invited you and Alastor to come along, albeit last minute, you both declined respectfully as somebody had to keep watch over the hotel while they were away. Alastor could easily do it by himself, sure, but you were burdened with the thought of sleep. As soon as they left, you slumped onto the lobby couch and shut your eyes.

Alastor waltzed into the room, his microphone staff hitting the ground with a thud every step he took. You opened one of your eyes to get a look at him, only to see he made his way to the edge of the couch, staring right at you with the same, expressionless wide-grinned look he masked all the time.

"Everything alright, Alastor?"

"Mmm, may I speak to you my Dear?"

You groaned and sat up lazily, rubbing your eyes.

"It's kind of a bad time, I'm half asleep."

His ears furrowed back and he sat at the edge of the couch, making sure to keep a good few feet of distance between you two. You could feel his demeanor shift promptly as he started speaking,

"Ah, yes, well, I'll make it quick. You see, I've been having this insatiable urge to... um... how do I speak of this-"

You raised your eyebrow as you waited for him to continue.

He sighed.

"I need to breed."

Your eyes widen in shock. Of course, you knew he was an animal and it would make sense as to WHY he had these desires but...

"And... why are you telling me this?"

He laughed.

"Hah hah hah! Because I want to breed YOU my Dear."

You stare at him open mouthed, unable to process what he just said. You have had fantasies about him for awhile, sure, but never in a million years did you ever expect it to finally be happening.

"O-Okay Alastor, but only this ONE time-"

He cut you off as soon as you gave him full permission to do what he wanted. He set his microphone down and pounced on you, his tall figure covering your entire body.

"Mmm, thank you my Dear, but I don't think one time is going to be enough for that pretty little body of yours."

You were about to say something before he crashed his lips down onto yours, forcing your mouth open with his tongue and intertwining it with yours. You moaned into his mouth as he tore open your clothes in a couple fluid motions. He stopped kissing you as he ran a finger in between your folds.

"My my! Look how wet you are! Oh how I've been CRAVING to ravish you. I hope you don't expect me to take my time."

He quickly undid his pants zipper before instantly slipping his length inside of you, his ears pinned to the sides of his head trying to hold back grunts of ectasy. You were whining, going non-verbal from how full you felt. Every time he thrusted, it felt like you hit a new stage of bliss, and suddenly you didn't care about redemption into Heaven.

You were already in it.

He gripped your hair and held you close to his body, his face burrowed in your neck and shoulder crease as he aggressively, yet sloppily thrusted into you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist so he could thrust as deep as he could.

He finally let his pleasure take control and started grunting animalistically. He was nipping at your collarbone and squeezing you into him as hard as he could, sweat being combined between your two intertwined bodies as the heat filled the space.

"You feel so gooood, you truly are a BITCH in heat. Let me hear more of those pretty little sounds of yours, Love."

He whispered into your ear before kissing your jawline quickly, smiling against your neck. Your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure and you could not contain your mews.

Your hands moved up to his hair, gripping it very aggressively out of pure passion and need.

"P-Please, Alastor, breed me. Impregnate me. I want you to mark my womb with your seed. Please-"

You senselessly babbled into thin air, gripping his hair harder and tightening your legs around his waist.

"Your begging is music to my ears! As you wish, Dear, stay still for me."

His thrusts quickened in pace before becoming sporadic. He finally unleashed all of his seed into you, making sure his cock was as deep inside of you as it could go. You were a panting mess, slowly loosening your grip on his hair, and he was making a bunch of radio static, also trying to catch his breath.

After a bit, he pulled out slowly and watched as his cum dripped out of you. His smile widened,

"Make sure you lay like that for awhile, Love, to make sure it all stays in."

You didn't ever want to move again. Everything was just bliss in that moment.

"Oh, and by the way my Dear, this will not be a one time thing. Expect it frequently!"

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.

#hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #18+ only #alastor x reader smut #shameless smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #18+ mdni

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violettaskies · 7 months

Text

Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right?

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking.

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register.

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order.

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.”

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone.

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —”

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.”

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real.

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly.

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?”

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.”

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel.

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers.

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library.

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head.

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly.

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully.

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man.

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?”

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas.

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed.

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your —

No.

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever.

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle.

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot.

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.”

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.”

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you.

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?”

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words.

What a dream.

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket.

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly.

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.”

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry.

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little.

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice.

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body.

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever.

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least.

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve.

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong.

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs.

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal.

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together.

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant.

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before.

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too.

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process.

You were about to become the death of him tonight.

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him.

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep.

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly.

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily.

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep.

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream.

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.”

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand.

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully.

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together.

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure.

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status.

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it.

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?”

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight.

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions.

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered.

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all.

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment.

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice.

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them.

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth.

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot.

“Y-yes, I would be.”

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.”

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone.

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle.

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.”

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure.

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind.

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts.

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him.

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly.

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him.

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts.

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again.

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down.

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.”

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before.

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted.

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly.

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever.

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours.

“More, please.”

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.”

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea.

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned.

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you.

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong.

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise.

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him.

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter.

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met.

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back.

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again.

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.”

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub.

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod.

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal.

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper.

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder.

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve.

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples.

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good.

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin.

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.”

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms.

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently.

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high.

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down.

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips.

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips,

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses.

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now.

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?”

Fuck.

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly.

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust.

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?”

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least.

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle.

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking.

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased.

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers.

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed.

“Let's use a little, Steve.”

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand.

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.”

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight.

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you.

Just the tip — you said the words before.

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out.

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of.

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in.

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size.

“Feels nice.”

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you.

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved.

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body.

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you.

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you.

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.”

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully.

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely. “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned.

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you.

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies.

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.”

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now.

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days.

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster.

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.”

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes.

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots.

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you.

And he did.

Good god, he did.

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously.

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve.

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you.

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way.

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays.

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you.

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him.

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process.

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again.

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs.

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze.

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips.

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked.

“Another day?”

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin.

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process.

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too.

-:-:-:-:-

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