#sundays are for the idiot thoughts and the deep thoughts

[aseaofyoongi]

my heart did | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: e2l | bully romance | smut | angst

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: as soon as senior years comes to an end a lot of teens shed who we were and strive to be flourish into a more polished version of themselves. although, broken hearts aren’t so quick to heal what happens when thoughts reveal all we need to know?

warnings: lets begin.. themes and mentions of bullying; brief physical violence; brief mention of blood; bickering; denial of feelings; mention of less than ideal parents; cliche high school themes (in flashbacks); foul language; oral (m. receiving); penetrative and unprotected sex; clitoral stimulation; nipple play; thigh riding; vag fingering; overstimulation; sub!jjk themes - he is a good boy; he uh.. arrives on her face.. anyways; i hate this trope ugh but miscommunication; jjk has a big d!; not edited.

word count: 25,5 thousand words

posted: wed sept. 6, 2023 at 12:28PM

notable songs: like i want you - giveon | thinkin bout you - frank ocean | like or like like - miniature tiger | war of hearts - ruelle | sunday morning - maroon5 🎧

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The sun is now setting. 

Behind you as the last hours of the late summer evening approached the sun was beginning to finally pucker its lips against the horizon, as a result, the sky became dusted with hints of deep orange, yellow and purple. The clock finally struck nine o’clock and you couldn’t help but slump down on the palms of your hands, sitting behind the main desk on the same stool you had been since the beginning of your shift. Your pupils followed as the little hands on the clock hung on the opposite wall seemed to move slower and slower, completely freezing you in time. 

Fucking Mondays. 

You sighed. When you had initially signed up for the work study position at the library you thought things would be just a bit different. 

For example, you thought being a staff member here would get you free access to course books and materials but that wasn’t the case. Right before you’d been hired, some idiot named Yoongi who worked behind the help desk at the computer lab was caught selling copies of the course materials to multiple students on campus. 

Like—right before you were hired and now that privilege had been swiped right off the tip of your fingers the moment your member badge had been printed. 

Secondly, time behind that rotating door at the main entrance just stopped. No, more like slammed down on the brakes abruptly the moment you crossed that threshold. There were no warnings or brake lights or even a bright sign to apprise in advance. 

Another drawn out sigh escaped your lips. 

There was no exaggeration in your boredom, however, besides the ‘promises’ of saving money on school materials vanishing entirely, you still needed the monetary earnings so you hid behind a fabricated smile and immediately accepted the job offer happily. 

Well, as happily as you could be. 

God, you were jaded. Five after nine. Only five minutes had gone by yet it felt like an eternity. 

Your mind was on overdrive yet your body remained stationed in the same exact place—in the same exact position. Not a single tendon transposed and they constricted your muscles in place. You were there sort of glued to the metal surface of the stool but fuck did you wanted to move. 

Needed to actually. You needed a sort of mobile stimulation but still you couldn’t seem to get your arms and legs to comply. Not until your focus circled around your extremities and your need to just fucking. . do something. 

You crossed your legs to the left, then to the right, then you hung your legs on the wooden bar under the desk to give them a rest from just hanging on your side, then you sat with your legs spread open before realizing you wore a skirt and you quickly pressed your thighs together tightly. Shift after shift you grew more angsty, more impatient, more exasperated with the sluggish speed the hours of the night adopted. 

Slowly, you reached into your bag and unwrapped a piece of gum before sticking it in your mouth. You chewed slowly. Seven after nine, only two minutes have gone by since you last looked at the time. 

Okay, maybe if you number your chews to the rhythm of each second then time will somehow speed by. Right? You began your countdown backwards from sixty. 

You chewed down on the watermelon flavored stick of gum. Sixty. 

Again, fifty-nine. 

And, again,  fifty-eight. 

Once more, fifty-seven. 

In just a matter of minutes the sky behind you turned pitch black and finally the stars came out to play, they pranced around dancing in the sparkling delight and you couldn’t really help but envy their freedom as they lived without confinement. 

“Tell me something. .” You quickly registered that irritating tone, that very familiar and insipid, absolutely annoying and vexing tone. The same one which sent a bubbling shot of acid to course into your bloodstream every time you were faced with the disdain of hearing it, “should I reprint you a copy of the employee manual? Last time I checked skirts above the knee and gum chewing are strictly prohibited in the work place.” 

You leaned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in his direction as he stood by the doorframe, “you’re not the supervisor, let alone the manager,” you murmured through gritted teeth, “fuck off.” 

He shook his head slowly while clicking his tongue. He was mocking you, the little shit was mocking you, “Not a manager. Just someone who likes to enforce the rules especially comes to you.” 

“Rule enforcer?” you scoffed, chewing louder and louder as you chomped down, purposefully smacking your gum in the process, “sounds a lot like you being a little bitch. I guess it’s all just the same to me.” 

“Bitch?” he guffawed. 

“Yes, that’s what I said,” you challenged. 

“Mini skirt, gum chewing, and foul language. You’re really making this so easy for me,” he mocked. 

The extent of your interactions were always, always, reduced to this. Just the endless streaks of taunting, the continuity of poking at each other buttons beyond forgiveness, and to top it all of the boiling irritation cooking up in the pit of your stomach. 

As far back as you could remember there wasn’t an ounce of amiability in the mixture of your interactions together. 

You and him met the summer before the ninth grade. From there on you knew him once classes began. Well ‘knew’ was a very loose term in this situation. The two of you were just teens, fifteen years old to be exact, in the same school, in the same home room, yet from different cliques. 

His brown eyes drank you in like he was consuming every inch of your soul—it was invasive, intimidating, and exactly what you deserved. Deep down you were one hundred-percent sure of the fact. 

“What?” you barked. 

“Just remembering the good old time,” he smirked, “the ones where words remain your preferred and deadliest weapon.” 

What transpired from that night was nothing compared to his cold gaze and punctured words. 

Faint lights of that night sparkled into memory, years have passed but you remember every detail as if it was just yesterday. 

The school bathroom was your least favorite place in the building, it was usually crowded with destined criminals, the stench was horrid and it was the obvious root of every ridiculous rumor to ever be birthed within the walls of Oakwood High School. 

You leaned against the white ceramic sink, your back faced the stained plastic mirror as you faced him sitting on top of the toilet tank. He was the personification of trouble, the very synonym of everything you needed to stay away from. 

The two of you came from two different worlds. 

He was draped and wrapped up in a black hoodie, complemented by dark distressed jeans while his rugged and muddy boots stained found camp on the toilet seat, staining it beyond repair. 

“What exactly is it that you need from me?” he asked, his tone wasn’t as stern or deep as you usually heard around the halls. There was a slight stutter; a falter. 

“It’s more than one thing,” you exhaled, your eyes flickered between him and the stall just to the right of him, “. .that I need from you.” 

He hummed, “go on.” 

The sun trickled in through the foggy windows and it embellished very detail, every feature that you had never once before noticed on the boy before you. His eyes were giant orbs almost doe like, his lips were a deep taint of roseate the same one which dusted the apples of his cheeks. There was a certain delicate look behind the dark aura he cemented within himself. 

You took paced steps in his direction feeling just a bit dizzy the closer you became. 

Perhaps, it was that overbearing piss smell. 

Or, perhaps, you just didn’t want to go through with this. You wanted to call this off but there was this fervent exhilaration burning just below your skin—you wanted to continue speaking to him, you wanted to envelop yourself in the softness of his lips. 

But this wasn’t right but you couldn’t help the guidance of your feet, until finally you stood right before him. 

Up close his eyes were prettier, shinier yet darker and you easily found yourself swimming in them engulfed in vastness simulating the bottomless sea. 

He was everything you wanted and everything you needed to stay away from. 

Two different people. Two different worlds. 

“Are you going to tell me what you need?” 

“I think,” your palm landed on his knee for support as you climbed onto the toilet seat taking a seat on his lap, “it’s much better if I show you.” 

By now, and by the radicle of his reputation you expected for him to push you right off his life, for him to gargle the disgust in the back of his throat and regurgitate it right back on you. But he didn’t instead his gaze intently followed you every move, he probably already noticed your quivering figure hiding behind your confident facade. 

There was no shaking off this nervousness, even but in your mind you reminded yourself that you were you and he was simply him. 

“Show me what exactly?” he swallowed, his Adam's bobbed distinctively, “you know this is the first time you’ve ever uttered a single word in my direction.” 

“I highly doubt that,” you hid your nervousness behind the security of your confident tone. 

“It’s true,” he continued, “I bet you have never even noticed that my locker is directly across from yours.” 

“Wait. .” You hooked your bait, hanging it low over his head attempting to reel him in once and for all, “do you spend your time in the halls looking at me?” 

“I never said—“ 

Your palms found their way up to towards the back of his neck and you inched closer to his face vividly detailing the golden tone of his glowing skin. 

You never noticed before, he was always an arm’s length away, which was probably your fault to begin with, but he was truly beautiful. 

“You did kind of imply it.” 

“I don’t think it works that way.” 

“Does to me.” 

His eyes remained on your lips as you tucked your lower lip under your upper teeth.  There was an unreadable expression ignited behind his pupils, something you’ve never seen before, not behind the frigid gaze of your best friends and it certainly wasn’t present in the way your boyfriend looked at you either. 

It held the comfort of tenderness and it wrapped you right into his warm embrace. 

“You know, you keep averting my question.” 

“Remind me, once again,” you smiled softly, “what is it that you wanted to know.” 

“What do you want to show me?” you pursed out your lower lip before licking them agonizingly slowly to almost emphasize their plumpness. While coating them in a thin layer  of the sheen shininess from your saliva. That put him in a trance, his eyes were locked on you intently. It’s working. 

“Kiss me,” you whispered, your lips hovered right over his, the waft of your paced breath fanned one another. His mouth was enveloped with the cool aromatic scent of mint. You liked that a lot—it drew you in. 

He froze against the white tiled wall behind him, his eyes were closed and he waited in anticipation of your lips finally meeting his. Instead, you took the liberty of snapping a mental picture. One you knew you would hang in the forefront of your mind for a very very long time, because after today, after the tones of both of your pink lips finally meshed together everything would go to shit. 

And it would all be your fault. 

“For someone who’s begging to kiss me you sure are taking your sweet time.” 

The pads of your fingers brushed against his velvet lips as they spread wide depicting his smile, in turn you’d notice the way that very smile trickled to everyone of his features. From the dimples impaling his honey cheeks to his scrunched up nose and brows scrunched up together. 

“I’m not begging,” you objected, laying against his chest—he was broad you could tell even under the dark clothes and he felt firm. All you wanted was to be cocooned in his heated touch. 

Even in the scorching summer his warmth is.. a solace. You didn’t mind being consumed by it burning in the flames ignited by his touch. 

“I asked. Just curious to know if you would even want to kiss me,” say no, run away, run away from me, you yelled at him in your head. 

“Curious?” 

You hummed, “So.. Do you wanna?” 

“Kiss you?” 

You hummed again, “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. It’s just one kiss.” 

“Just a kiss?” He asks a lot of questions. 

“Okay,” he breathed. 

There were many things you forbid yourself from submitting to at the expense of your insatious desires. This included consuming sweets past eight o’clock, drinking any type of soda, and even suppressing anything you’ve ever felt for anyone in return for the validation of others. Deep behind the rhythmic beating of your heart you knew this should’ve also included kissing him. You knew you should’ve backed off, said no, avoided him as if he was something you ran away from. 

But you couldn’t help but be guided here by the pure delight of getting to have this for once. You wanted to be selfish and drown in those very desires you didn’t dare act on prior to today. Not under self-induced circumstances instead something you know could hurt him right after you pulled away from his lips. 

You were a wretched person but all you think about, all you cared about was the way he inched closer towards you, rapidly closing the gap between the two of you. The only sounds bouncing off the walls were your needy pants and the thump thump which composed a song out of the beats of both of your racing hearts. 

His head tilted slightly as he leaned in, his eyes explored every inch of your face taking in every depiction of your features. And no matter how many times you could attempt to hide it—he would know. He could clearly see the birth of the flames rampant behind the tones of your eyes. 

He nudged his nose against yours, and your mouths fell together, soft and open. You closed your eyes instantly and they felt heavy, almost as if your eyelids were glued together. Though, you urged to open them, to live in every single second your lips remained connected with his, because you knew this wasn’t likely to happen again. Not after today. Not ever. 

You couldn’t help but want to bear witness to the perfectness of your lips dancing against one another. 

His mouth was silken, you found yourself melting into his body, into his lips, into his touch. Nobody had ever kissed you with the unspoken one passion he was. 

No one. Certainly not your boyfriend. 

You allowed yourself to become drunk under his trance and he fed the butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach rapidly. 

You wanted to camp in the fondness of that moment forever, and ever. and ever. . . 

Vacating the stool you stood by the large windows facing the parking lot behind the library. However, your attention was clutched by the sparkling stars, it was a form of a distraction. You wanted to stop thinking of him, his gaze seizing your figure tracing the outline of your legs, the curves and dips between your hips and waist and finally the sneaky peaks of your collar bones under your crop top. 

His eyes were hard to read making it impossible to decipher whether he undressed you or condemned your being.  

Though, you knew you deserved the latter. 

“Words were never my weapon,” you whispered the fib hoping that you would believe it if you heard it outloud. It didn’t work. 

He chuckled, “right. . your lips were the blades that pierced my heart and your words were the bullets that finished me off.”

“Jungkook. .” you trailed off. 

“What?” he spat, “can’t handle the truth?” 

Fuck, that hurt but you deserved it.  

“Jungkook, just shut up.” 

But his back was already turned towards you and his eyes no longer scanned you like you were the phrases typed on the pages of his favorite book. 

“I’m so. .” you began but you just couldn’t get it out. 

“There it is again,” Jungkook shook his head, clicking his tongue. 

“That’s not what I meant,” you sighed, collecting your thoughts why did you always manage to say the wrong fucking thing, “I’m just trying to apologize to you for. . everything.” 

“Right. . now?” he wore a puzzled expression, his eyes squinted with skepticism. Back in highschool Jungkok was quiet, shy and mysterious. He could’ve easily flown under the radar and lived his life in the seclusion of being a wallflower. But then you happened. You in that bathroom, on his lap with his lips on yours. 

Even now, years later, you could still feel their phantom softness on yours. 

You played with the loose thread on the hem of your top averting the scrutiny of the judgment in his eyes, “better late than never.” 

“You put me through hell and I’m supposed to act as if all is forgiven. Today, because you can no longer live with that guilt?” there was a smirk plastered on his face while traces of venom laced his words. 

“That’s not the reason why…” 

“Then, why… Why?” 

Words failed to roll off the tip of your tongue, and there was a cloud of shame hanging over your head but Jungkook was resentful and cold with his words and you knew that at this point your apology would do nothing to fix what was already broken. Nevertheless, you stood there like a child being scolded because the least you could do was be the receiver of his resentment. 

“Are you looking for a shot at self redemption? To feel better about yourself? Or maybe the guilt really is eating you bit by bit. Whatever it may be I don’t forgive you and I never will. You wanna know why? Because unlike others I’m not convinced that people like you can change,” he continued, there was a rampant anger burning in his eyes now, “you look back on our time in high school and feel this sense of. . relief that you were who you were. There is not an ounce of your being that would go back and change things and if we were to turn back time you would still choose to be the viper who could go around injecting your venom into others at free will. I know you just want to leap over that stepping stone and prove to yourself that you have grown-up but you can’t fool me and you will not make an example out of me.” 

“That’s not. .” you drifted off, tears swelled behind your eyelids but you blinked them away, “That’s not why I wanted to do Jungkook. .” 

“No?” he asked. 

“No,” you muttered through gritted teeth, mad at your past self for being a piece of shit, mad at him for not allowing you to speak, mad at life. Everything. 

“You want me to forgive you?” 

You remained quiet. 

“Then, beg.” 

“You know what?” You quickly wiped the tear that trickled down your heated cheek, “I actually did mean to apologize but I’m not sure that you actually deserve it anymore.” 

They say what comes around goes around and you were certain this was the circle of justice you would forever be looped in the extent of your interactions with Jungkook because, this is pretty much how they always played out.  He would never forgive you and you would never be able to form the right words to ease the pain of what you have caused. There wasn’t anything that you could do or say. 

Things would always remain this way. 

He turned away from you once again, “if I don’t deserve your apology that only proves you don’t deserve my forgiveness.” 

You looked at the clock on the opposite wall, it was now finally thirty minutes past nine and you were due to go home. To be embraced by the comfort of your sheets, to bask in their warmth, something less chilling than his frigid words. 

Grabbing your bag you slipped past him hoping that you would now stoop to becoming nothing but an insipid wallflower. 

Entirely, invisible. That’s all you wanted to be. 

Fucking invisible. 

Your cloak of invisibility was short lived because as soon as you crossed the threshold to your dorm you were met with a crowded living room. Amongst the faceless features of the random strangers spread out in the tiny space you spotted a similar face belonging to the biggest pain in your ass and roommate adjacent, Hobi. 

You trudge through the ocean of bodies, resisting the sway of the waves leading to bump to those in your way, simply wanting to get as far away from whatever this was as soon as possible. When Hobi’s eyes finally met yours you signaled him towards using your pointer finger—quickly, his smile dropped, beads of sweat adorned his temples and his head hung low. 

A party on a Monday was… Definitely, Hobiesque. 

With paced strides he stumbled towards you following you down the small corridor and into your room. Hobi’s eyes hung low, the buttons on his shirt hung open all the way down to the pit of his stomach, his cheeks were red and puffy, his hair the right amount of disheveled, and he had a tight grasp on a nearly empty red solo cup (it definitely didn’t look like it was his first or last drink). The  lights were dimmed but even under the shitty lighting there was a bright glimmer outlining his figure. 

“Now, before we begin this intervention,” his words were a bit slurred, “I had a really shitty day.” 

“Yeah, that makes two of us,” you hung your bag on the hook behind the door and threw your keys on the desk. 

He slumped down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression—you weren’t sure if the shift in his usual energetic charisma was due to the alcohol but you didn’t like it. You were so used to seeing his heart shaped lips spread into wide curves showcasing the amiability of his colorful personality. 

“Okay, which one of us should go first?” he asked. 

“Don’t you have a party to get back to?” you sat by the pillows on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard, your legs pressed up against your chest as you laid your head on your knees. 

“I’ll get back in a minute,” he replied nonchalantly, “just tell me about your day.” 

Hobi laid his head closer to your legs, quickly you found your fingers combing through the dark strands with a thin layer of sweat. There was a cool draft slipping in the room through the window left slightly ajar. The bittersweet flashes of your time in that library behind the main desk played back in your mind. 

“I saw… spoke to Jungkook tonight,” your voice was soft, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. You and Hobi have been friends since your senior year in school and while he wasn’t there for the horrid days of your freshman year tyranny you confessed to everything you had done during those dark days—everything that happened with Jungkook. 

“Spoke?” 

You nodded. 

“You two have the same work study you’ve spoken to each other before right?” 

“Yeah, but our conversations are always reduced to nonsensical banter. He pushes my buttons and I push his, sometimes we even land a few jabs at each other when the other isn’t looking but today,” you felt at ease sitting there in Hobi’s company, the only noise surrounding the two of you came from the booming of the loudspeaker stationed in the living room, “…it was personal.”

“How personal?” he continued peering up at you with idle eyes. 

“I tried to apologize for, well you know.. everything,” you sighed, “and things didn’t really go as planned. Stupid of me I know.” 

“Definitely, not stupid. You tried to make things right. There’s no harm in that,” his thumb rubbed your hand softly as it wrapped around your shins. 

“There was definitely a lot of harm done.” 

“You’re right,” he mumbled, “what you did is not justified, but all that matters is that you are trying to make things right and we can only hope he is willing to forgive.” 

Jungkook’s vicious words played on a continuous loop in your head. He was not willing to forgive. He never would be and sincerely you couldn’t blame him for him. 

This guilt. 

It will eat you alive and as a result you will experience a slow and excruciating death. A well deserved demise and one that became written in the stars for you the moment you kissed him in that fucking bathroom. 

Still, a timid smile slowly creeped on your lips. Hobi’s hopefulness is your safety net, the only thing you could ever need to keep pushing forward. 

“Enough about me and my self-inflicted issues,” you cleared your throat, “what’s got you so down today, sunshine?” 

“We broke up.” 

You laid beside him on your bed, reaching down taking his hands into yours hoping he’d feel the same deal of comfort you do by him. 

“What happened?” you offered. 

“I was in my dance practice and he—“ he paused, “he just fucking texted me. Said he couldn’t do it anymore.”  

“Did something happen before all of this?” 

“We’ve been on a bumpy road lately,” he hesitated before continuing—you guessed it was because he was trying to structure his thoughts, “two dancers dating bring a conflict of interest into a relationship.” 

“Please tell me you guys aren’t just fighting over your choreography.” 

He remained silent before continuing. 

“You two are going to send me into cardiac arrest,” you shook your head, “I need details, Jung.” 

“Don’t call me, Jung,” Hobi poked out his lower lip, frowning, “makes me feel like I’m in trouble.” 

“I can’t be mad at you when you’re so adorably tipsy,” you pinched his rosey cheeks.

“Stoooop,” he swatted your hand away from his face while stretching out the letter ‘O,’ “I’m being serious though. I think it’s really over between Jimin and I, forreal this time.”

“You’ve said that every other time the two of you have broken up over dance.” 

“Right. .” he yawned, cozying up under your sheets while his eyes began to close. 

“Oh, no,” you smacked him upside the head with one of your cushions, “get up and go host your little party.” 

He brushed it off turning before turning away from you, his soft snores now a remix to the music playing just outside of your door, “who the fuck throws a party on a Monday. . Hoseok, get up!” 

“I know, you’re so irresponsible for letting me throw a party on a weekday.” 

“Bitch.” 

As it turns out, kicking people an hour after a party had started wasn’t as easy as it looked. Leaning against the front door you finally came face to face with the mess left behind. The music still played, though, much lower now and there was an array of empty beer cans, red solo cups and other waste decorating your living room. 

It was as if you were standing in front of the mirror looking back at yourself, you were nothing but a mess of a human being. It was uncanny. 

Although, this mess you could clean, and you would, you weren’t sure if Jungkook would ever allow you to pick up all of those broken pieces that you had shattered all of those years ago. 

For what it’s worth you really wanted to try. You wanted to make things right. 

It is now Tuesday and the weather is horrid. 

The last time you checked, the forecast called for scattered showers and mostly cloudy days. But, now it’s one in the afternoon and as you settle down on the bench by your bay window overlooking the narrow street, the sky was overtaken by the torrent clouds weeping viciously accompanied by the occasional strikes of loud thunder. 

Usually, when the weather looked as shitty as you felt you opted for staying home and becoming enveloped in the comfort and warmth of your sheets, today would have been no different but of course luck is never present in the deck of cards paving your life, also having an irresponsible roommate usually doesn’t help in any way.

“Please, don’t forget my ginger ale,” he coughed dramatically, running his hand through his disheveled hair, “I can’t believe I feel like literal shit.”

“You can’t believe it?” You sneered, “you drank half of your alcohol supply before I even made it home and the party had only been on for like thirty minutes.”

“Fuck, I did that. Didn’t I?” 

“You did,” you playfully yanked your covers off his body, “you drunk fuck.” 

“That was my nickname in highschool,” he smiled. 

“It was,” you zipped up your rain jacket and grabbed the umbrella sitting on your desk, “now go take a hot bath and don’t throw any more parties while I’m gone.” 

You heard his infectious giggles as you closed the front door behind you. The two of you lived on the third floor so the walk down the stairs to the lobby wasn’t too unbearable. Through the clear doors of the main entrance in the rain you saw how the downpour fogged up the path ahead. Namseok’s Kitchen is only a five minute walk, you can do this. 

Walking out you opened your umbrella and stood still for just one minute paralized by the pitter patter of the droplets meeting your umbrella. 

It was the beat to a dreadful song you knew too well. 

You pushed past the blue metal doors of the gymnasium. Your nostrils are no longer consumed by the smell of sweat and dirty laundry and the muffled conjunction of laughter, voices, bouncing balls, and whistles died out the minute the door closed behind you. 

Gym class was a drag and there was truly nothing worse than an hour long class period with sweaty kids in such a tiny space. Usually, you opted for walking on the track for the duration of class but that option became futile the moment it began to pour an hour ago. 

In fact it was still raining, but you stood under the navy awning covering you from becoming soaked. Your eyes are closed and you lean against the red brick wall inhaling the scent of petrichor, the resulting smell of the parched earth just as the pouring rain continues to beat anything standing right below it. The sweet aromas seeped into the air sweeping past your nose with the soft breeze that blew by. 

It was as if the earth had exhaled, emanating its distinct fragrance from millions of pinpoints all at once. Inside that smell, the seconds slowed and each moment seemed to dilute. It filled you with relief.  

Then, suddenly the remnants of your heaven became blurred and the walls holding up the roofs began to tumble down and with it a whiff of nicotine became tangled in your nose. 

Your eyes shot open and there he was, Jungkook. The boy you’d kissed a week ago in the boy’s bathroom. 

“Cigarettes are bad for you, you know..” You felt a knot in the pit of your stomach as soon as he turned. You heard what happened to him but you hadn’t gotten around to seeing him yet, you’d been avoiding him. 

“Yeah, I keep thinking I’ll quit and I can’t seem to make it past a couple of hours,” he was honest and he smiled, two characteristics you thought had died the moment your boyfriend’s fist met his face. He still had a soft purple bruise under his eye to prove it. 

“You need something else to get your mind off of it.” 

He threw the butt of the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to put it out and leaned right beside you on the wall. Up close you saw a deep gash on the apples of his cheek, it was still red but stitched up. 

“I know.” 

“Are you really littering right now?” You eyed the discarded smoke under the tip of his chunky combat boots.

“Right, sorry miss president of ‘i love earth’ or whatever,” he bent over, picking it up and placing it in the pocket of black jeans, similar to the ones he wore that day minus the rips around the thighs. 

“It’s actually called, ‘advocates for planet earth’ for your information.” 

“I love earth sounds better,” he shrugged, “should consider the name change.”

“I’ll bring it up in our next meeting.” 

“I’m surprised,” Jungkook began, his eyebrows furrowed together and you could tell he was in a mental battle to continue, “that he lets you join cute little nerdy clubs.” 

Twenty minutes before you entered the boys bathroom last Thursday, you and your friends sat in the library during study hall, your homework long forgotten and with continued complaints of loud talking all of you had settled for a game of quiet dare or die. 

The set-up was easy. 

There were two piles out in-front of you, one die, one dare. The object of the game created by your friends was to choose a dare and record yourself completing it before the end of the school day or else you’d have to do something even more embarrassing from the die pile. 

Your dare was to graffiti the side of the school. A bit excessive, compared to the other ones which only called for kissing each other, going against school dress code for the rest of the day or skipping the last period. 

Ditching the crumpled up paper you chose a die deciding that whatever it was at least it probably wouldn’t come at the expense of being expelled. 

‘Kiss Jeon Jungkook (loser)’ it read. 

You could’ve said no but you didn’t. Instead you fed into the taunts of the very boy you’d find your eyes lingering after. The same boy who occupied your thoughts day and night, the same one who kissed you like no one else has and whose touch (though, brief)—permanently marked a trail of goosebumps only he could procure. 

“He doesn’t control me, Jungkook.” 

“He doesn’t,” Jungkook nodded, registering every gravity of your words which felt heavy on his tongue. If your boyfriend didn’t control you then that meant you had also dealt a hand at the countinuously fucked-up encounters between him and your boyfriend. But this also finally cemented the idea that you had kissed him willingly; you saw it in the way his eyes sparkled even when the sun had been hibernating for the duration of the day. 

He seemed to have finally realized that both of those could be true. That love and pain could dance together hand in hand when it came to the two of you. 

Your eyes scanned his chocolate ones, slowly reaching up using the pads of your finger to caress his cheek. They were full and warm and you were careful not to inch too close to the purple and green-ish spot under his eye. 

“Will you believe me if I tell you something?”

“Tell me.” 

“I really did enjoy that day.” You clarified, “our kiss despite what I said afterwards.” 

He chuckled, “hopefully saying me too doesn’t get me another black eye.” 

The tightness in your chest squeezed tighter and immediately you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When Jungkook was around you felt as if your heart and mind collided against each other and you were left in a daze, castaway in your own body and mind. Like, right now, your brain urged you to walk away and get as far away as possible from him but your heart called out to him and down that same path it set out a route leading to his silken lips. 

Your heart beat to a deep crescendo nearly synching to the sound of the beating rain against the awning just overhead. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to class?” 

Snapping out of your daydream you replied, “uh, yeah, I should get back.” 

“Okay.” 

“I’ll see you around.” 

Jungkook smiled, “I’ll see you around.” 

The hefty winds blew your umbrella yet you remained in the same exact spot just a couple of feet away from the entrance to the dorm building. You were drenched from head to toe causing your gray sweats and hoodie to stick to you all while they weighed you down. Although you were inclined to move away from the droplets adorning your figure, your legs just would not submit to the command. 

The smell, the dark skies, and the feeling of the rain on your skin all ignited a sense of familiarity, contentment yet melancholiness. 

There were too many feelings jumbled into one. 

“If you stand here, like this, you’ll end up sick.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed until the moment his voice overshadowed the roaring screams of the pouring rain. Jungkook’s outfit mimicked yours slightly but even you could admit he looked much better than you. He wore gray sweats and a gray hoodie draped off his shoulder over a white wife beater. His tattoos peeked through outlining the beginning of the sleeve following the length of his extremity down to his fingers. 

He’s breathtaking, he’s always been. 

“I wasn’t aware that my well-being was any of your concern.” 

Jungkook combed his slender digits through his jet black hair inching closer to you until his umbrella covered the both of you, “it doesn’t,” he said, “ I just figured you were either drunk or too much of an idiot to be out in this storm.” 

“Well, in that case that makes us two idiots standing out in this weather.” 

“I was not out. I’m not crazy,” he cleared his throat, “I just so happen to see you through my dorm window.” 

He came down for you, “yet here you are now.”

“Need I remind you, if I wasn’t, you’d still be out here getting soaked.” 

“Soaked,” you snickered.

“Grow up,” his voice was laced with annoyance but the rose tint on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know. 

“Where did my umbrella even go?” 

He pointed to your feet where your Converse swam in a puddle and there was your unbrella was looking as fucked up as ever. Immediately, you made a mental note to never buy umbrellas at the dollar store ever again. You supposed that’s the only thing you were good at; making one wrong decision after the other. 

You huffed, “ah, I’m okay. It’s okay, I got it from here.”

“Were you going somewhere?” 

“You don’t have to help me, Jungkook,” you didn’t dare look at him because Jungkook was good at one thing, it was peeling back at your layers with his piercing eyes. He made you feel vulnerable—bare. And you always feared the psychedelic enchantment wiring in your brain whenever he looked in your direction. 

Back then that was your excuse for not helping him, for not being a better human being. It was a shitty excuse, you know that now but you always feared your willingness to succumb to your hearts’ cries. 

You feared falling into him—falling for him. 

“Ironic, isn’t it?” He laughed, “just lead the way. I have nothing better to do anyway.” 

“I was just going down the street to Namseok’s Kitchen to get Hobi some chicken noodle soup. He isn’t feeling too well this morning.” 

“That’s only a five minute walk,” he nodded toward the path ahead, “Let’s go.” 

Five minutes felt like an eternity as the two of you walked towards your destination in utter silence. The street was pretty empty—only Jungkook, yourself and the rain remained. . And your thoughts, of course. They ran at record speed as you tried to relive every single moment from your past, you know; divulging in all the good times and wanting to fix every fucked up thing you’ve ever done. 

If only you could turn back time you’d make things right. 

In an attempt to skip another puddle, to prevent your socks from becoming sodden you accidentally moved closer to Jungkook and your elbow brushed against his. The feeling wasn’t foreign to you and it transported you to those nights, all of those moment when your bodies were so close you could smell the soap he’d used that morning, cardamom and vanilla, the scent still lingered around in your nose and you wondered if you were just hallucinating or if he actually still used the same soap. 

“While you order I’ll get us something hot,” he walked you to the glass door of the small diner, then turned towards the coffee shop across the street. 

“Jungkook!” You called out and he looked back in your direction, “Hold on,” you dug in your pocket reaching for a ten dollar bill, “Here.” 

“Just worry about the soup and get one for yourself. Your body will thank you tomorrow morning,” he shouted back. 

He disappeared into the shop as cars sped by in his shadow. You almost didn’t believe he was just right there. With you. Was he?

The bell on top of the door chimed as you walked into the restaurant, the squishing sound of your drenched shoes against the white tile bounced off of the baby blue walls. As you walked closer to the counter you wrapped yourself in a tight embrace to provide yourself with some warmth against the blasted AC. The place has always been light on decoration and made to feel more homey than anything else. There was a faux wall with photographs of customers hanging from loose thread, next to that there was a small circular table where the polaroid and its film was stationed. The remaining walls held all sorts of artworks in different shades of azure from Seokjin’s boyfriend, and Hobi’s brother, Namjoon. Towards the front was your favorite place, a bench stationed in-front of the floor to ceiling glass window. 

Namjoon approached the register, “oh no, what the fuck did he do now?” 

“He threw a party and woke up sick as fuck. I was just coming to get him some soup. He’s said he would puke anything else.” 

“And that little shit made you walk?” Seokjin walked up behind Joon taking a seat on the stool beside him. “Look at you…” he motioned towards you and you took a look at yourself in the circular mirror hung behind the two guys, a fucking mess, “you’re all wet. Did he make you come here alone?”

Before you even had the chance to answer Jinnie continued, “I’m going to kill him. You hear me?” He turned towards his boyfriend, “I am going to kill your brother.” 

Joon mumbled, “I might just join you.” 

“Before your two go on a killing spree…” you leaned against the wooden surface of the counter, “I kind of offered because I felt bad for his dumbass.”

“He still let you come all the way down here in this weather and that is enough to plan a crime,” Seokjin hissed, “Joonie will you get her a towel from the back?” 

Joon disappeared behind the beaded curtain. 

“Okay, so one soup for the idiot and one for you?” 

You nodded, “yes, chicken noodle soup please. Can you make that three though?”

“Who’s the third one for?” He raised an eyebrow staring you down like you had an intimate secret you were keeping from him. Well, technically, you were keeping some things to yourself but you weren’t lying just withholding the truth. It wasn’t the same thing. 

“It’s for the person who accompanied me here today.” 

“And who is that?” Joon asked, they were both overprotective, like older brothers, “you only have one friend and unfortunately I am related to him.” 

“Not a friend. . Just someone I know.” 

They hummed in unison exchanging suspecting looks between one another. Then, the bell on top of the door chimed once again, the same way it did when you walked in. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, his scent gave him away immediately. 

“Hi, welcome to Namseok’s kitchen,” Jin greeted him. 

“Hey,” he walked deeper into the restaurant until he finally stood right next to you as you continued drying off, “here. I got us lemongrass tea. I didn’t know what you like so I figured I get you the same as me.” 

Grabbing the to-go cup from his hand, you reply, “yeah, I like lemongrass tea.” 

You took a sip, basking in the heat of the piping hot liquid as it traveled down your throat and into your tummy. A tired whimper escaped your lips,  as you became entirely immersed in the flavors of the lemony taste exploding on your tongue. There was silence around you but you could feel three sets of eyes on you and instantaneously your eyes shot open. 

“I almost forgot Jin, Joon, this is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Jin and Joon, Hobi’s brother and brother in law.”

“Nice to meet you.” 

“You, too,” Jinnie smiled in his direction and Joon followed suit, “Jungkook..” He repeated, “why does your name sound so familiar?” 

“I went to highschool with Hobi and..” he pointed at you, avoiding even the utterances of your name. There was no disgust lingering in his face but then again his expression was unreadable and you were sure he was masking his true feelings at the expense of the two men in front of you. 

“I knew it,” he clasped his hands together but as soon as you saw the thoughts wiring in his head and connecting together you shook your head to prevent him from continuing. Thankfully, he understood immediately, “yeah, I thought I had seen you before.” 

Jungkook also connected the dots because Jin hadn’t been in high school at the same time he was. Jinnie was three years older than you guys were and by the time he and Hobi had moved into town Seokjin had already graduated. But he was now aware that you had mentioned him in passing—now he knew that you had to have mentioned something about that time. 

“I’m going to go check on those soups,” Jin announced walking back towards the kitchen, “Joon, come on join me.”  

You walked past Jungkook with the brown cup held tightly in your grasp before taking a seat on the bench by the front window. The storm still ran rampant outside and the streets remained barren. Jungkook sat two tables down, near the wall, far away from you. 

“Do I owe you anything for the tea?” You mumbled holding up the cup in his direction. 

“I told you to not worry about it..” 

“I didn’t know Seokjin would bring that up,” you didn’t look at him, eyes lulled by your dusty white converse, “I didn’t know he would remember you.” 

“Just forget about it,” he shook his head, “you don’t need to explain.”

“No, I feel like I do.” 

“You don’t.” 

“Jungkook, please let me,” your eyes watered and your voice faltered. 

He sighed, taking a small sip of the tea before continuing, “please don’t explain. I don’t need an explanation. I have buried it all, it still lives in my head but it’s buried and I don’t need to resurrect the tsunami of emotions that comes along with that..” he pointed at his temples, “it’s still here but please do not awaken them. I don’t want to brush the brush off of those memories.” 

You two were the only people in the shop but you knew Joon and Jin were behind one of the walls eavesdropping. It was silent and the only noise in the small space was the whirring of the AC. 

“Are our good memories also buried somewhere?” You knew better than to ask but you needed to know. 

“I put those to rest first,” he admitted and your heart sank, “those memories, although good, were an incitement to everything else that lingered right behind. I had to get rid of those memories to get rid of everything else.” 

“Okay,” tears were beginning to swell up in the corners of your eyes and you tried your best to blink them away, “yeah, that’s okay. I understand why you had to do that.” 

“I’m sorr—” Jungkook began. 

“Don’t, please, you’re not the one who should be apologizing to me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you do that.” 

The bell at the front desk chimed, ripping your attention away from Jungkook. Seokjin stood behind the counter holding two paper bags, “order’s up.”  

Walking up you thanked him and grabbed the bags, “thanks. I’ll have Hobi venmo you for this.” 

“Don’t even worry about it,” he smiled softly, “free lunches till you guys graduate remember. That goes for you too now, Jungkook.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to,” he handed him the smaller bag, “I mean it. I better see you around here more often.” 

“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen him wear in years. It was radiant and lit up his face with warmth. The indents on his cheek were deep and they framed his rose lips like they were a work of art. Not even the silver hoop piercing his bottom lip shone as brightly as he did when he smiled. You almost forgot how good it looked on him and you couldn’t help but stand there and admire him taking mental pictures to keep forever. 

He deserves someone better. Someone who’s going to make him smile like that until the end of time. Someone who wasn’t you.  

“And thank you for coming along with her since Hobi couldn’t.”

“It’s no problem.”

“I would offer you guys a ride back home but Jin and I walked to work today. Guess we didn’t really think things through either.” 

“It’s okay, Joon,” you zipped up your rain coat and pulled the hood over your head, “it’s only a five minute walk back.” 

After thanking Jin and Joon, the two of you exited the store and cut in through the alley way before landing on the road leading back to the dorms. Once again, the two of you stood dangerously close to one another radiating off each other’s body heat and before you knew it the building came into view and Jungkook led you up the walkway leading you to the main door. You didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want him to leave you but it’s not like you could actually say that. 

You were a mere burden jumbled into bad memories and the worst years of his life.

“Thank you for coming along,” you pushed the thoughts although you don’t think you could ever really get rid of them. 

“No thanks needed. I couldn’t let you take the trip on your own, especially not in this weather.” 

He couldn’t let you. Your heart began to race as you tried to keep yourself from reading too much into his words. They probably didn’t mean anything… But what if he still cared? What if Jungkook still cared about you? 

“See you around.” He nodded before heading off in the direction of his dorm. 

I shouldn’t have said anything.

You turned around, but Jungkook was no longer near. His back was turned in your direction as he continued trotting down the sidewalk. Great! Now you’re hearing voices, after reaching for the metal door handle the voices reappeared. 

 Our memories are flavored in bitterness but I still can’t get her off my mind.

Jungkook was gone. 

The thing about rumors is that they spread like wildfires and no matter how hard you work to extinguish that fire it is always too little too late. That’s how you felt as soon as you crossed the threshold from the bathroom and into the congested hallways. Everyones prying eyes read you so intently condemning you for the hypocrisy of allowing someone like Jungkook to permanently ink his lips on yours. The passionate dance the two of you composed left behind the imprints of his lips as he tattooed your skin with each one of the pecks he left behind.  

Your phone buzzed in the back pocket of your jeans. You pulled it out, unlocking it, quickly seeing the photo your friend had snuck of you on his lap pop up. Your mouths devour one another and your bodies pressed together closely while your hand rests on his shoulder. 

You wanted to frame it—live in the pixels of that picture forever. 

‘Death complete bitch.’ Your best friend’s text read below the photo, ‘I can’t believe you actually kissed him.’

‘I can’t believe I did it either.” 

‘What was it like?’

The worst part about it is that it had to come to an end. Your mind traveled an hour back and you recall the velvet feel of his lips as they moved against yours mimicking the softness of clouds. At the sametime his tongue was saccharine tasting of the sweetness of strawberries and maple syrup leading  you to guess he had either waffles or pancakes for breakfast that morning. 

All you wanted was to run back into that bathroom. 

‘Nothing memorable. Just glad it’s over.’ 

‘Don’t worry you won’t ever have to kiss him again.’

Yeah, that was the fucking problem. You wanted to kiss him again, preferably you wanted to kiss him forever. 

‘Yeah, thankfully.’ 

You didn’t know when that kill switch that made you a complete and utter bitch was flipped on, but all you remember were those calamitous days when you didn’t really know who you were and who you were meant to be. Those days were marked with pen squiggles, they were blurred and you chose to permanently turn the light off and lock the door behind you in that section of your brain. 

Middle school was rough to say the least. But that was the beginning of your novel and you knew perfectly well who you were now. 

You had the friends you did because they made you look good, you had the clothes you did because you had a reputation to uphold and you had the boyfriend you did because someone like you is supposed to be with someone like him. Those were the simple unspoken rules of high school and at first they  were easy to follow until they weren’t. 

Everything was simple until that summer before freshman year. The day you visited the park near your house and you spotted him, with his chunky black boots and signature black outfit matching his jet black hair. The two of you were only fifteen then but he already had a tattoo on his wrist peeking out of the sleeve of his crewneck, back then he didn’t have his lip piercing—not yet at least. 

“I thought you only hung out in abandoned buildings and sketchy alley ways,” you remembered telling him that and the two of you spent hours on those swings talking the afternoon away. Back then, you learned Jungkook was a gentle giant disguised in an intimidating disguise. He was thoughtful in the way he looked at life and dreamt about the future, he was caring in the way that he spoke about nature, tattoos, music and everything else he held a deep passion for and lastly, he was attentive in the way he listened to you thoroughly drinking in every detail you had shared.

That was the Jungkook that made you fall for him in the blink of an eye but back then you didn’t know who he was and you were certainly not made aware of how things would end up. 

 The bell dismissing you from your last period class snapped you right out of your thoughts and you dashed out the door of the classroom wanting nothing more than to escape home and be left alone to bask in your thoughts. 

“There’s a fight outside!” a few students called out running past you. 

“Let’s go!” someone else yelled across the hallway. 

You were nervous to ask but you did anyway, “fight? Who’s fighting?”

“Your boyfriend’s fighting someone,” a girl you didn’t quite recognize replied, “Jungkook, or something like that I think.”

By the time you made it to the parking lot there was already a crowd of people forming a circle around both boys. Jungkook held his bloody nose while your boyfriend clenched and unclenched his hand, likely to relieve the pain of hitting Jungkook. You ran in their direction but as you neared them you saw as the boy you called yours landed another punch on Jungkook’s face causing him to fall back on the concrete. 

He didn’t fight back, didn’t even respond to the other boy’s insult. He just sat on the ground holding his face waiting for it all to be over. 

“Hey,” you finally reached him, shoving him back to prevent another callous attack on the boy behind you, “what the fuck are you doing?” 

“I saw the fucking picture,” he muttered through gritted teeth. 

“The girls and I played a game of dare or death,” you explained, “it was only part of the death I had to complete. It didn’t mean anything.”

He lunged towards you and poked at your chest, “you still kissed him.” 

The crowd went silent and your boyfriend’s anger highlighted the very thing you’d intended to place under lock and key—your pretty little secret no longer a secret or even pretty for that matter. You felt light headed and you weren’t sure if it was the punishing rays of the sun or the mental strain this was all causing. 

You didn’t regret that kiss; you never would but you also thought that picture would stay between you and your friends.

A wave of murmurs swayed all around you and you knew your reputation was descending by the second. 

You didn’t dare look at Jungkook, you knew his hypnotizing dark eyes would make you crumble. Seeing him like that. . The way he did all helpless and unprotected would compel you to care for him and cradle him in your arms until nothing or no one else could hurt him, “It meant nothing. Okay?” You heaved, “It meant nothing.” 

Instead, you were dragged away from the boy your heart screamed out for. 

Fuck, do I still like her?

Just shut up, Jungkook. It’s too early for this. 

I shouldn’t be asking myself that. Ever. 

Presently, you’ve gotten to know Jungkook for being reserved and fairly quiet, similar to how he was in high school except back then he actually spoke to you. But now, he is quiet and he doesn’t bother uttering a single word in your direction. The only times he ever addresses you is when he throws continuous jabs at you, landing every single one—he spews spiteful words of retaliation as a result of the shitty person were years ago and although you knew it was well-deserved that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Unlike his recently reserved outer shell, you quickly learned Jungkook’s mind traveled at the speed of light and for two days now, you could hear the constant battles of  thoughts breaking out in his head. 

Words crashed against each other; phrases were left abandoned half way through and ideas were left unfulfilled. 

You groaned smacking your silk pillow over your face, your mind was exhausted on overdrive and increasingly overheating all because Jungkook couldn’t ease his thoughts and empty his mind at five in the fucking morning. Who. . Thinks this much at such ungodly hours of the morning, the sun isn’t even up yet. 

The scattered clouds invaded the dark blue sky dusted in shades of purple. 

Does she think of me? 

I do. 

Did she ever feel what I felt when we kissed?

I did—I do. I still feel it. Similar to how the sun feels on you on a hot summer day, the sparks on their ignited route as they traveled through every single inch of your skin setting it alight even today. You felt it then and you could feel it now. 

Finally, his thoughts ceased and you guessed he’d probably drifted off into a slumber. He probably looked so peaceful you thought, grabbing one of your extra cushions, laid on your side and placed it in between your legs like a mommy pillow. Sleep came knocking on your door and your eyes began to feel heavy. 

Jungkook probably looked like an angel as he slept. You could picture him laying in a sea of his messy sheets against his golden tone. 

By the time you woke up once again, it was nine in the morning and the sun peeking in through the windows ripped you right out of your sleep. 

Your room door burst open, “hey! I knew you’d be awake. What do you have planned for the day?” Hobi took a seat on the edge of your bed. 

“Whatever happened to knocking? I could’ve been naked you know..” 

“We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.” 

“Fair enough,” you laid facing the ceiling, “I wasn’t going to do much today just going to check Mr. Kim’s list. He posted it on the bulletin outside his class for our upcoming project.” 

“Do you want me to make you something to eat before I go?”

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.” 

He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be in the dance studio. You wanna come see me later?” His heart-shaped lips did very little to cover his pearly whites as he grinned, “I’ll give the front desk your name so they can let you up when you get there.” 

“Please, don’t forget like last time or I’ll have to fight someone for real this time,” you said. 

“Won’t,” he called out as he strutted towards the front door, “I promise. See you later.” You heard the door open and shut before you began falling asleep once again but the peace and quiet was very short lived because you heard him again. 

What did I even dream about?

You wondered the same. Was he the type to dream up cute scenarios in that pretty head of his as he drifted off for the night? Did your face invade his mind in the late hours of the night? You hope you did. 

Your name echoed in the basis of his mind followed by the emission of thunderous groans. 

He seemed. . frustrated. 

Ah, fuck. Yes, Jungkook just imagine it’s her. 

The image in your head was impure as soon as  you finally realized what Jungkook was actually doing. You’d imagined his hand disappearing under the base of the pyramid forming through his duvet. Stroking himself slowly, his head lolled back against his headboard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, while his eyes fluttered closed as his eyelashes batting away all reminders of reality. 

I want her touch—need it. So bad. 

You’d become too enthralled in the symphony of Jungkook’s whimpers that you hadn’t really noticed the death grip you had on your bed sheets as your knuckles turned white and the way your legs rubbed against each other in a desperate plea for some friction. 

This was private. Jungkook needed privacy and while your mind opened a portal which prevented that, the best thing you could do was ignore him and the sensual persuasion laced in his bedroom voice, no matter how desperately he called out for you, it wasn’t right. 

Ignore. 

God, I would fuck her so good. 

Think of something else. 

With my cock buried deep inside of her. Fucking her into my mattress until she’s shaking with the overbearing stimulation of pleasure. Until, even her own name becomes a mere afterthought. 

You grabbed your phone from the night stand but your lame attempt at a ‘distraction’ was useless. His words were addictive and you were already soaked right through your panties. Your sheets began sticking to your sweaty skin while Jungkook’s ardent words continued heating you up. 

She would take me so well. Fuck! 

A shower! That’s what you’d do—just take a cold cold shower to ease those thoughts and shut him out until he finally finishes. 

You hissed as the hard pressure of frigid water hit your body from the shower head, even this wasn’t enough to mask the way your body shuddered as Jungkook continued. It was even more enticing that after everything—after his hostile gazes and cold words your face was in the forefront of his brain as he touched himself.

His alluring thoughts kept on playing one after the other and your cunt became the victim crying out to him with patterned pleas he would never hear. Your juices strolled down your inner thigh mixed in with the streaks of water and you could no longer bear the desperate thumps of aching cunt. You were going mad, honestly his stamina and self control were all to blame. The combination was torturous.  

While you weren’t one hundred-percent sure of what he was doing the way his thoughts became sporadic weathering winds of pleasure and then tranquility. It was a cycle, he would be on the verge of succumbing to his peak and then all of the sudden he would stop. Before beginning once again and again and again. 

The viciousness of his desire lasted until right around the time you turned the shower off and you couldn’t tell if for the past twenty minutes you had been in your own personal heaven or hell. 

I hate how much I still want her. 

I hate that I can’t have her. 

You can have me, Jungkook. You can have me now, tomorrow and forever.  

The heat was overbearing and you could feel the way your tank became soaked with sweat and the thin fabric stuck to your body. You heaved as you pushed open the glass door into the English building. Mr. Kim’s room was on the third floor and the bulletin board was stationed right next to his door. After opting out of climbing three flights of stairs you ride the elevator up and exit out to look at the posted partners for Mr. Kim’s upcoming project. Walking down the main hall you turn left and there it is—there he is. 

The simplicity of his outfit was composed of a plain white tee, gray sweat shorts, and over the ankle white socks tucked into black slides. The colorful ink adorning his skin still peaked under the sleeve of his shirt, his black wavy hair rested on the nape of his neck. 

The hallways were completely empty and his back still faced you so you kind of just stood there unsure of what to say or do. I mean you’d heard him masturbating just a few hours ago and while you truly did not mind even the slightest you weren’t quite sure how to even interact with him moving forward. While he seemed to despise you for the events that unfolded back in high school this morning was a complete change of events. His voice was dipped in sex as he moaned your name until he finally came. 

God, why was it so hot in here? Is the AC really off mid-summertime? 

“Hey,” his doe eyes stared at you, studying your off-putting exterior. Your eyes were blown wide, your tank was still soaked with sweat and you just stood there ogling him, “are you okay?” 

He stepped towards you with worrisome eyes. ‘Oh yes Jungkook, I’m okay. I’m just picturing the way your hand climbs up and down the length of your dick, head tilted back, mouth slightly opened as groans form at the root of your throat. You know, the way you probably looked this morning.’ 

Instead you decided on a soft, “I’m okay.” 

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he placed his hand on your shoulder and you nearly fainted at the intense heat emitted from his skin to yours, “here, sit down,” he guided you to one of the lounge chairs sat opposite Mr. Kim’s class, “have you drank anything today?” 

How could you kindly explain that was not the kind of thirst you were looking to quench. 

“No. .” you shook your head.

“Okay, okay,” he grabbed a water bottle from the black backpack sitting at his feet. You hadn’t even noticed it before, you had been so focused on him the entire time, “here drink some.” 

The bottle was half empty meaning his lips were on it and now your lips would be on it too. This wasn’t really what you meant when you said you wanted to feel his lips on yours but you didn’t really mind either. 

“Yeah, sorry, I got thirsty on the way here,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I can get you one from the vending machine.” 

You must’ve been looking at the bottle resting in his grasp like an idiot, “no, it’s okay Jungkook,” you rested your palm on top of his hand, “it’s not like we haven’t kissed before right?” 

His eyes turned a shade darker than their usual brown and he cleared his throat, letting go of the water bottle right into your grip, “right.” he stepped back as if you were a cactus ready to nick him with one of your spines, “I was looking at the list for Mr. Kim’s class and we are partnered together with Jimin for the project.” 

“Okay, should we meet at my place tonight or tomorrow? This is due this Monday,” you took a sip of the water tasting the remnants of Jungkook’s strawberry chapstick left behind on the rim. 

“I have a basketball tournament due tonight but we can meet tomorrow if you’d like.” 

“Tomorrow,” you repeated, “any time?” 

“After four?” 

“See you then.” 

For the first time in forever Hoseok had actually left your name at the front desk of the studio on campus. After being left up you walked in through the double doors of the dance studio where the music blasted at highest volume and your best friend’s shoes squeaked against the shiny wooden floor as he moved throughout the room swiftly executing his choreography with perfection. Hobi was a force to be reckoned with and dance was his element. 

“You’re here,” his professional and focused aura peeled back as soon as he saw you enter the room, “I need a break anyway.” 

You sat on the floor with your back resting against the wall of mirrors. 

“I’m here and I cannot believe I witnessed such perfection,” you clapped your hands, “I still cannot believe my best friend is talented enough to finally snatch me away from poverty.” 

“You know I got us,” he sat beside you before laying his head on your lap. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat from head to toe, “but let’s not forget you chose to be poor.” 

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I can’t really help having idiotic parents,” you shrugged. 

“I know baby,” he cooed. Hobi was quiet which was definitely out of his usual nature where he radiated a blinding luminescent orb around his being. He fidgeted with the strings on his sweatpants and opened his mouth only to say it again. 

“Hoseok, you’re anxious and it’s making me anxious. Just say what you need to say.” 

You combed your fingers through his damp hair, “I saw they, your parents, left a voicemail for you last week. Did you ever get back to them?” 

“No,” you sighed, “and I don’t think I want to either. Everything they tried to do and were willing to do was truly wicked and unforgivable.” 

“You never told me what happened.”

“It involves Jungkook, of course, and everything we did while in high school, Yeonjun’s party the summer before senior year.” 

“The one he threw the week before school started?” 

“Yes.”

“To this day I still can’t remember shit about that night.” 

You chuckled, “a lot of our classmates don’t remember that night at all but I do. I remember every single detail.” 

He didn’t say anything so you continued. 

Yeonjun’s lake house was like a maze. There were numerous narrow halls with an array of doors carved on each wall and it was the same for every single corner you’ve turned into so far. The little bit of alcohol you had began clouding your mind and you felt more intoxicated than you actually were. Your kitten heeled black sandals clacking against the hardwood floor sought a way out of this elaborate labyrinth and back to what you originally came for. 

The music playing just a floor below faded as you traveled deeper and deeper into the second floor, although you could still feel the booming bass vibrating right under your feet. 

You just needed a bathroom—not because you actually needed to use it but because you needed to take a minute to yourself. . to breathe. Every other corner of this house including the back and front yards and even the fucking lake are already invaded by massive seas of drunk teenagers. Their voices were too loud, the music was headache inducing and the atmosphere adopted a stench of sweat and b.o. 

After ditching the red solo cup on a nearby console table, you leaned against the off-white walls closing your to block out the dim lights making you a bit lightheaded. 

Seriously, who even had this many fucking rooms in one house. You mumbled. 

Sure, your family was wealthy but you were nothing like the Choi family. Your parents were both doctor’s devoting their time to the tiny private practice the two of them founded but on the other hand Yeonjun’s family came from a long lineage of  businessmen and they practically owned a handful of the businesses for miles and miles around. 

You weren’t jealous of all of the extra zeroes attached to his parents’ net worth, you and your own lived comfortably enough to not have any financial complaints. However, his parents were more liberal and they didn’t clip his wings. They weren’t clingy or demanding and they certainly did not push anything on him that he didn’t want to do. Your parents were not this way, they were controlling, and they told you what to do and eat, who to hang out with and date. With covetous thoughts you wondered if there would ever be a point in your life where you could feel as free as Yeonjun did. 

Maybe now that you’ve turned eighteen things would be different. Doubtful—your birthday was a month ago and nothing has changed. Unfortunately, you still lived under their roof and relied on their money. 

You removed your shoes and hesitated whether to travel back down stairs and out somewhere into the depth of the forest but immediately erased the thought from your mind as you looked down at your bare feet, mini skirt and crop top. This wasn’t really an appropriate outfit to go off exploring the woods in the middle of the night. 

The minutes continued ticking by and finally you spotted a door at the end of the opposite hallway with a vertical rectangular piece of frosted glass cut right down the middle. Your feet traveled down the heated floors before your hand reached out for the black knob; turning it slowly. 

It was a rooftop balcony. 

The railing was wrapped in garden lights, while two sets of black cushioned reclining beach chairs sat around a propane fire pit. There was a massive grill to the other side, a bar that would put a nightclub to shame and a huge patio furniture set. 

Your eyes thoroughly scanned your surroundings before landing on the boy leaning against the rail staring at the idiots swimming in the lake below. For the first time since you met him approximately four years ago his legs were exposed under the light washed knee length jorts, he wore a white t-shirt and a pair of black and white checkered vans. Still, right up the alley of what his style embodied but you had to admit you missed his signature chunky boots. 

He still hadn’t noticed you so you walked up slowly, “I never thought I’d see you at a party like this,” you whispered in his ear before jumping right beside him. 

The moon rays reflected a twinkle in his dark eyes, “Yeonjun and I are cool.” 

“So, why aren’t you down stairs?” 

“Why aren’t you?” his gaze traveled from your black painted toes all the way up to your eyes as if he was studying you intently. 

“Too crowded,” you shrugged, “and not enough room to breathe.” 

Jungkook looked ahead, his vision once again consumed by the dark green and brown shades of the dense forest once again, his side profile put artworks all across the world to shame. 

“Yeah, same,” he added, “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret but parties aren’t really my thing.” 

“No way. . I’ve seen you at every party for the past three years,” he dramatically rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in your voice and you chuckled before continuing a bit softer, “is this your first one?” 

Jungkook nodded, “first one I’ve been invited to and the first I’ve ever attended too.”

“We’re breaking records tonight aren’t we.” 

“I guess I’m feeling a bit audacious.” 

You sneered, “audacious? Big word.” 

“Don’t tell me you think I’m stupid like the rest of our classmates. .” 

“I did my internship in the main office last year which included sealing report cards and sending them off,” he walked to one of the chairs and laid on it placing both of his palms under his head. Was he flexing? Couldn’t be. “You’ve practically taken every AP class offered at our school and aced all of them too. It’s a miracle how you have managed.” 

“What can I say?” he smiled and his cheeks rose like two loaves of bread in an oven, “I’m all brains baby.” 

“Brains and beauty,” you corrected. 

“I can’t also be ‘beauty’ when you’re here; living, breathing, being,” Jungkook is the personification of all of your desires and his aura worked hard to draw you closer and closer in his direction no matter how hard you worked to stay away, for his sake. Even when you tried to repel away from him the gravitational force he exuded called out your name and your tympanum became inundated by the wails of his being. 

Only he lived in your thoughts. 

The video-like memories you have shot of him throughout the years loop in your mind day and night. It was dizzying but you didn’t want it any other way. 

“You are beautiful,” you let your thoughts roll off your tongue freely—too tipsy to care and too enthralled by his striking features to lie about what you truly felt. What you’ve been working so hard to suppress for the past few years. You were tired of hiding, so fucking tired, “with your big beautiful eyes, and your cherry lips and rosey cheeks and all of these tattoos,” you carried on, “oh, and those piercings. Don’t you know that Jungkook?” 

He was flushed and his head became tilted down as he played around with the silver rings on his fingers, “know what?” 

“That you are more beautiful than life itself.” 

Jungkook scooched over on the chair and patted the empty space beside him inviting you to sit near him and you did. He laid on his side while his face rested on his left palm. 

“Are you drunk?” he asked. 

“I only had two sips of Hobi’s drink,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “I’ve been on cranberry juice most of the night.” 

“So this is not a case of drunken words you’ll forget once the sun comes up?” he leaned in closer and you could see the faint freckles dancing on his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose. 

His eyes sparkled projecting bright constellations never before seen in the heavens, “I could never forget anything about you.” 

“You know I can’t believe that right?” 

“Why not?” 

“Because you’ve forgotten about me for the past year,” he smiled devilishly, “you haven’t spared me the time of day. I’ve missed your sneaky glances. The way you’d drop your pencil half way through algebra just to bat those pretty eyelashes in my direction kind of like you are now.” 

“I didn’t do that just to look at you,” you clutched the thin gold chain hanging from his neck, guiding him closer to you, “I was just genuinely clumsy.” 

“I’m just saying it’s funny how the pencil always fell in my direction,” 

“Forget the pencil, Jungkook,” shivers cascaded down your back as his lips hovered over yours—his breath fanning against them. The aroma of lemon, and mint, with woody and balsamic undertones tickled your nostrils. 

Jungkook shook his head, his eyes remained on your lips as you swiped your tongue along them, “it’s not about the pencil?” 

“It’s not,” you added, tucking the few strands of hair that framed his face behind his ear. You just wanted to lay there with him forever, to be consumed by the warmth of his embrace, to lose yourself in the tenderness of his kisses, to wake up next to him tomorrow and also every single day after that. 

“So just admit you wanted to lo—”

You lips landed on his and finally you remembered just how magical kissing Jungkook was except unlike that day in school the bathroom, today, it wasn’t a game. You were there on your own free will and you didn’t care who was around to see. The only concern clouding your mind was how much more of him you craved. The way your mouths moved each other made you feel inebriated, even more than alcohol ever could and you weren’t afraid to admit his lips had you addicted. 

The silver metal hoop hung onto the corner of his lip felt cold, but so good in comparison to his heated kisses. Despite where you were or how many people currently invaded Yeonjun’s house it felt like you and Jungkook were the only two people on the entire planet. Just the two of you with your lips dancing on each other with the moon and the stars baring as your only witnesses. 

Jungkook pulled away slowly—panting slightly, “please shut me up like that more often,” he held your face, resting his forehead on yours and pecking your lips continuously, “tell me you’ll do it. Tell me you’ll always kiss my stupidity away.” 

You nodded, “Jungkook, how about I kiss you like that always and forever. Not only because of your stupidity as you call it but just because.”

“Are you trying to confess something?” 

He sat across from you on the beach chair taking your legs onto his lap, his soft hands massaged the soles of your feet. You swallowed back the guttural groan riding up your throat melting deeper into the chair due to his therapeutic touch. His fingers moved higher and higher up the length of your extremities, halting right above your knees, yet he continued kneading his fingers into your skin. 

“Tell me.” 

You hummed. 

“I need you to be an open book with me. What are you looking to confess?” 

Your eyes remained closed as he continued touching you gently—almost feather-like, “Jungkook, I can’t really think when you’re doing that. .” 

“Should I stop?” 

“No, please,” you pant. 

He continued kneading your thighs, “tell me.” 

From the tips of his fingers currents of electricity trickled onto your skin, “ah, fuck. .” you breathed, “I like you Jungkook. I like you. Okay?”  

Hobi sat up beside you, now leaning against the mirrors as well. The sun has begun its journey towards the horizon and its rays peaked through the slightly drawn blinds,  “wait so you guys. .?” 

You nodded but said nothing else. That night had been a secret between you and Jungkook. 

“On the roof of Yeonjun’s house during our senior year back to school bash?” The surprise in his tone was evident but you weren’t taken back by it all. 

“Yes,” you smiled faintly, unwilling to hide the giddiness you felt from the memories of your time together from Jungkook, “it was our little secret. We swore to each other we wouldn’t  say anything to anyone. That’s why I didn't mention anything to you before but obviously someone saw and word got out that same night.” 

Hobi sighed, “don’t tell me another fight broke out between him and your dumbass ex-boyfriend.” 

You shook your head, “this time it was different. I wasn’t scared of what others thought anymore. In that moment I decided I would stop caring. I wanted to stop hurting him,” your clammy hands began to shake slightly and Hobi placed his palms on top of them to stop their trembling, “that night after the party we rode around all night aimlessly. Enjoying each other’s company and truly I was the happiest I had ever been all my life. Everything went to shit as soon as I made it home and walked in through the door. My parents waited for me to get in, they sat me down and began rambling about my change in behavior and how different I had become.”

He hummed and you took that as a sign to continue. 

“As soon as I sat on the chair that night they slid over my mom’s phone and there was a picture of Jungkook and I kissing on one of the longue chairs. I swear I had dejavu from freshman year.” 

“Did you ever find who took the picture?” 

“I never did but I always figured it was one of my ex’s minions or something,” you shrugged, “to be honest, trying to figure it out was the last thing on my mind. They started talking and talking rambling on about my personality change and rebelliance and how Jungkook was the cause of it or some shit.” 

“How did they even come up with that?” 

“I asked myself the same thing,” you snickered, just thinking about it even now makes your blood boil, “but it didn’t matter. Being eighteen didn’t matter; they just wanted to keep us away from each other at all costs. They made all types of threats to make me press charges and file a restraining order which I obviously refused. Then, they vowed to make his life hell if I didn’t stay away and I didn’t want to find out what they meant so I decided to comply and stay away.” 

“Okay, now I’m beginning to understand why you moved in with my family half way through senior year,” his thumb rubbed circles on the dorsal side of your hand, “were they mad when you left? I used to ask my mom if your folks ever reached out but she always avoided the question.” 

“They were livid but nothing they could ever say or do would ever make me stay in that place.” 

“Did they manage to leave Jungkook alone?” 

“Well, after the big cut-off Jungkook and I were never able to find our way back to each other,” your voice was low, almost as if you couldn’t hear yourself it just wouldn’t be true, “and I moved in with you and your mom and I completely blocked them out of my life.” 

“Good. I’m glad you ditched them,” he pinched your cheeks, “you deserve better than them and their money’s no good to you anyway.” 

“I just wish I would’ve kept in contact with him. Maybe tell him what was going on or something,” you scratched the back of your neck obviously frustrated at your lack of communication skills as a stupid eighteen year old. You were such an idiot—why couldn’t you open your fucking mouth? 

“We all make bad decisions at one point in our lives but you had no choice, baby. You were sandwiched into the wall one bad choice up against another. You made the best decision you could with the circumstances at hand,” he snuggled closer to you, wrapping one hand around your shoulder, “don’t beat yourself up over it please.” 

“I love you. Seriously, I don’t know what I would ever do without you.” 

He kissed your forehead, “I love you more.”

Today Jungkook’s highway of thoughts has eased and though you liked how calm the morning has been you also kind of missed the feeling of his lingering presence—almost as if your own shadow was missing. 

You despised waking up towards the early hours of the afternoon but today you couldn’t seem to peel yourself out of of your bed, until finally you couldn’t fathom the idea of napping your day away—plus couldn’t do that even if you wanted to because Jungkook and Jimin would be over in about thirty minutes to begin working on Mr. Kim’s project. 

Jimin had been the middle man in this entire set-up, he had both of your numbers so he took it upon himself to text the two of your separately (because he knew you and Jungkook were physically impossible of initiating a social exchange amongst yourselves), and get you both on board with a neutral territory to meet at. Of course, Jimin’s idea of a neutral territory involved a place where he could catch glimpses of his ex strutting around which meant your apartment was his ideal meeting spot and although his thoughts hadn’t revealed anything so far you just knew Jungkook wasn’t ecstatic about this whole arrangement. 

After taking a quick shower, getting dressed and setting up a plate of sliced fruits and a couple bags of snack size chips and cookies you heard a light knock on your door. 

Taking a deep breath you turned the knob before pulling the door open. It was Jungkook and as always he looked breathtaking. You were beginning to think comfort was his go-to because yet again, he wore sweats and a simple t-shirt—tattoos still peeking out at you, his bottom lip still pierced with the same small silver hoop, hair half up half down and his book bag slung on his left shoulder. 

Removing his headphones he stared back at you as you continued ogling him, “hey. .” he greeted in his deep tone. 

Why is she staring at me like that? 

Do I have a stain or something? 

He looked down at his shirt but when he saw nothing he just stared back at you tilting his head slightly. 

“Hi,” you stepped out of his way and he finally crossed over the threshold into your apartment, “you’re the first one here so we’re just waiting on Jimin to make it before we begin. Please sit anywhere.” 

He nodded. 

The apartment wasn’t necessarily big but it wasn’t small either. An open floor plan made up the space between the kitchen and living room area with a rectangular island separating the two rooms. Immediately to the right of that was the door leading to Hobi’s room, then your room sat at the end of that hall just a couple feet away and the bathroom was just across from your door. 

Yet even as you walked towards the kitchen and Jungkook made strides towards the love seat in the living room you felt like the two of you were cramped in a tiny box with the temperature hiked to the highest setting. God, there were about a million things you could say or offer him but nothing could ever mend his broken heart and that was enough to keep your lips sealed tight. 

Where the fuck is Jimin? 

I don’t know if I can be here alone with her for much longer. 

And it’s so fucking hot. I’m gonna pass out. 

Fuck, you knew it. He’s upset. Though you already figured coming here was probably  hard for him, you didn’t imagine it would hurt you as much as it did to actually know how much he despised being in your vicinity, but it did. 

Jungkook sat rather stiffly on the couch, bag still slung on his back as if he was ready to leave, staring off into the distance while his leg bounced up and down anxiously. Strolling past him silently you nearned the thermostat and cranked the AC up higher.  

That’ll literally fix nothing at all. 

You turned around taking a seat on one of the accent chairs near the row of windows on the opposite end of the living room. If it wasn’t for the invasion of his thoughts, the silence would be killing you softly. 

“Have you heard anything from Jimin?” he finally looked in your direction but not into your eyes instead they lingered lower—in the direction of your legs. The hunger displayed in his eyes took you back to the night before when he moaned your name so sweetly. 

“Nothing,” you tapped your screen to show him the lack of texts and placing the phone back on your thigh, his gaze followed almost like he was hypnotized. 

You would give anything to hear him just one more time—Fuck, just once more. 

He cleared his throat, snapping out of those sinful thoughts cooking up in your head, “yeah, same. And I’ve texted him like three times.” 

“I’m thinking that little shit bailed even though he planned this whole thing,” you were scared to form your thoughts into actual words, “do you want us to start or would you rather wait for him?” 

He breathed out almost exasperated—damn, you should’ve kept the suggestion to yourself. You were about to take it all back but then he finally spoke up, “We’re both here now. I think we can begin and then fill him in. . If that’s okay with you.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s the best we can do,” did he just willingly comply with staying alone with you, “I’ll go get my notebook. Gimme one second.” 

“Okay.” 

Right. . Okay. Just here to get our work done. That’s all. That is all. Yeah. 

You sat beside him on the couch startling him just a bit—he seemed tense, “so we’re supposed to pick a movie, and match no less than three scenes to at least one of the emotions listed.” 

“I say we do the very minimum and pick the movie I’m sure we’ve all watched,” he asked, unzipping his bag and pulling out his notebook. 

“Titanic?” you asked. 

“No, The Blind Side,” he scoffed, “do we really want to sit here for one hundred hours just to recap the eternity that is Titanic?” 

“But the emotions for Titanic are so easy to dissect; we have happiness, love, and jealousy right off the bat,” you argued, “the assignment is practically done for us already.” 

“Yeah, but everyone’s going to do Titanic. We need to stand out. Be different.” 

“It’s an intro to writing class. I vote for taking it easy, weren’t you just moaning about taking it easy anyway?” your tone was a bit condescending you’d admit but the way he scanned your figure was addicting. There was nothing you craved more in this world than to have his gaze drink you in as if you were his favorite drink. 

“I wasn’t moaning.” 

I was last night though. 

You swallowed hard, biting your tongue and holding yourself back from going along with begging him to moan the way you’d heard him do so the night before. His husk groans so low and sweet, so fucking sweet, “But you were.” 

“It was a suggestion. There was no moaning involved.” 

“Well, maybe if you did moan I would cave and take your suggestion,” the words rolled off your tongue before you could ever stop them. 

He smirked, “so you just wanna hear me moan.” 

Don’t smirk. 

Eternally mad at her, remember?

The internal conflict raging within him gave you at least a little bit of hope. As you mapped out the field of his thoughts you figured he wanted nothing to do with but distance himself; to be cold and standoffish but he also revealed he wanted you. He wanted you near—to hold you, kiss you, touch you. 

It was confusing and headache inducing but you liked that you still lived in his mind the same way he lived in yours. 

You shrugged, “maybe I do.” 

“Please, don’t,” his eyes finally met yours. 

Look away. 

But he didn’t and you were glad he didn’t. 

“Do you want me to beg Jungkook?” you purred low and slow—the translation intended was desperation and you hoped he understood exactly what you were hinting at. You were tired of hiding behind your emotions. 

She’s a fucking pied piper and I’m the snake hyptonized by sweet song and mindlessly slithering towards her. 

Yes, Jungkook. Come closer, come to me. If only he could listen to your thoughts, this would be a whole lot easier. 

Fucking one way telepathy. 

“Uh,” there was a mere blank look plastered on his features. His pupils were blown and a soft tint of rose dusted his cheeks. It was as if your words had sucker punched him and he was still processing the hit. 

You moved closer to him on the couch, placed your hand on his thighs to balance yourself as you drew closer to his ear, “please, Jungkook. Please, I need to hear you moan again.” 

Fuck. 

Fuck! 

He groaned and the honeyed husk tone sent a trail of goosebumps up your thighs resulting in your panties becoming moist, “please.” 

“Jungkook, I want you,” it was the first time in years you’d heard those words adjacent to his name and fuck did it feel good. 

Fuck it. 

His calloused hands were now on your waist and he began guiding you to lay on the loveseat before your hand landed on his chest to stop him. 

“I said I want you,” you sat him back down before kneeling in-between his legs. The fit of his sweats got tighter, lifting and taking on the shape of a tent, “you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment so that means I’m in charge here today.” 

Tell her. It’s easy. 

Tell her you want her too, you fucking idiot. 

He never vocalized it but you didn’t mind—knowing the thought pranced around on his mind was more than enough for you. 

“Are you okay with taking these off?” he complied, taking his sweats off swiftly, letting the pool at his ankles. Jungkook is fucking big and you were taken back by the sight, “good boy,” you cooed. 

His head fell back on the headrest while his eyes were shut tightly and his breathing became uneven. Oh! He likes that. He likes being called a good boy; you made a mental note to call him that again if you find yourself in a similar predicament. 

You raked your nails along his inner thigh, “Jungkook?” 

He hummed. 

“What do you fantasize about?” you laid your head on his thigh, his dick just a couple inches away from your face and truly all you wanted was to take him all in your mouth. 

“Alot of things.” 

You reached up, taking his length into your hold and he winced at the contact as you began moving your hand up and down once and once again, “I need more details than that.”

“I think of. .” his words became jumbled in his throat as you continued your very mellow and teasing touch, “of you doing, ah fuck, of you doing all these things to me.”

You clicked your tongue and shook your head at his semi-confession, “Jungkook, have you touched yourself while you think of me, hm?” 

Of course, you already knew. You’d heard it yourself but you just loved seeing him become so affected and so sensitive as a result of your lewd utters. 

Your palms traveled up to his pink tip and began rubbing circles with your thumb painting it white with his precum. 

“Good boys don’t touch themself.” 

Jungkook’s mouth remained agape but there were no words communicated instead he formed a sort of soft whimper, and that was the kind of motivation your body needed to go into overdrive. 

You wanted. . No, needed to rid yourself of these suffocating ass fucking clothes, you needed to touch yourself—to release that tension aching so painfully in between your legs. But you didn’t. Today was not about you. 

“I know. .” he groaned, digging his nails onto the black leather couch, “but when I have you invade my thoughts,” he paused looking for all of the right words, “I just can’t control myself.” 

“Hm, seems like I have a lot to live up to compared to your fantasies,” you kissed the head enveloped in your hand before swiping your tongue along his shaft and he hissed. 

His saccharine noises should be made into a playlist so that you could be able to replay them over and over everywhere you go but especially when  you lay under the covers of your bed in the late hours of the night. The only thoughts occupying your mind would be the compositions of his lustful cries as your fingers worked diligently to get yourself off. 

It was so tempting to just allow his hands to continue traveling down your stomach and waist, a few more inches and his fingers could be at the exact location where your body screamed out for his attention. 

You wanted it so bad. 

You tutted while clicking your tongue, “sit back, Jungkook,” you removed his warm feeling away from your lower back and placed them on his knees before patting them softly, “and keep your hands to yourself. Yeah?” 

“It’s really hard to,” he said, “nearly impossible when you’re working so hard to get me off and you’re just sitting there squirming whenever I talk about touching you. Cause the thought has lingered around in your mind, right?” 

“Jungkook, this is not how tonight is supposed to go.” 

“Then, how is it supposed to go?” 

Your hand began moving up and down his cock, pumping him once again before you felt the corners of your mouth beginning to sting as you wrapped your lips around him. It was painful. . Good painful though. With each passing second you bobbed your head on his cock working to take him inch by inch but no matter how much you tried, it was nearly impossible. 

His hand snaked around your neck aiding you, sinking himself deeper into the warmth of your mouth. With strings of saliva streaming down your chin, puffy lips, heated skin and a sort of fucked out look in your eyes you continued the repetition. 

Seeing him lose himself under the ministrations of your touch and mouth was overwhelming and drove you to the verge of nearly succumbing to the peaking orgasm lurking close by. Instead you diverted your mind to what you were doing instead of what you felt. Placing one your hand around the base of his balls massaging them into your touch, while you put firm pressure with your thumb on the perineum—and that’s when you saw the explosion of fireworks erupt in his eyes while his thighs began to shake. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Her mouth is—fuck! 

“I’m so close,” a needy whimper escaped his lips, “please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Please.” 

You complied, nearly choking on his cock. The feeling of being nearly rid of your ability to breathe was addicting and yes, if tonight were to be your last day on earth it would be a pleasure to die with Jungkook’s dick in your mouth. 

“I’ve been a good boy,” he cried out, “can I please cum?” 

Been such a good boy. So good. 

You hummed in approval right before he spilled into your mouth and you swallowed every bit of it before turning to see his splayed out body—all limp and tired. 

After wiping the corners of your mouth you sat beside him on the couch. Your knees were red and stung just a bit but honestly you could do it all over again—all night if you could. Slightly, opening his eyes he looked down, placing a kiss on each knee. 

“I never thought we would-” he paused momentarily, “we would do something like this ever again.” 

“Really?” your voice became hoarse, “because I’ve thought about it for a long long time now.” 

“You have?” 

“I have,” you continued, “and I’d like to think you do as well but if you’re ever ready to actually admit what you truly feel you know where I’ll be.” 

I do want you. So bad. 

And my feelings for you have always remained the same. I still have feelings for you, I feel everything for you. I always have and always will. 

He didn’t say a word but simply offered a sly smile before slipping away to get himself together in the bathroom. 

… But you were not disappointed. 

He needed time and that’s okay. You’d be more than happy to give him the time to dissect this peculiar relationship the two of you have. . developed. It’s the least you could do after all these years. 

In your heart you just hope he finds his way back to you. 

“So you sucked him dry and then you both continued to work on the project like nothing happened?” Jimin asked; his head laid on Hobi’s lap. Yes, they were back together. This was apparently the reason why he had missed the project session the night before.  

“We were kinda forced to when your ass was MIA from the very meeting you set-up.” 

He rolled his eyes, “nobody forced you to suck his dick.” 

“Fuck you, Jimin.” 

“Why don’t you begin by fucking Jungkook instead.” 

“Jungkook and I aren’t fucking anytime soon,” you sighed spinning around on your desk chair. The ceiling seemed to come crashing down on you even as you thought of gravity of your fucked up reality, “it’s like I can feel that he still feels something for me but he just won’t vocalize it.” 

Hobi caressed the apples of Jimin’s pink cheeks, stroking them lightly with his thumb. They were the picture perfect image of love—whenever they were not fighting of course. 

“So you sucked his dick at the expense of what?” Hobi inquired. 

“I really just wanted him in my fucking mouth,” you shrugged not really wanting to scramble for any other explanation because the truth of the matter is all of you would always calls out for Jungkook whether you wanted to or not. 

“Oh, baby,” Hobi abandoned his place on your bed and kneeled in front of you holding your hands in his, “while I support all forms of slut revelations and tendencies as your best friend it is within my obligation to require you to tend after your heart.” 

You nodded. 

“Jungkook is alluring, captivating, mysterious and absolutely handsome—” Jimin cleared his throat behind him, but he ignored his boyfriend and proceeded, “and the two of you have a lot of history both good and bad but you have to understand what happened in the past is yesterday’s event. Jungkook can break your heart or hurt you in any way and it’ll be just as fucked up no matter what happened between the two of you back in high school. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Hobi was right but how could you shut out the part of your brain which justified every single way Jungkook could tear you apart? Underneath the spark; shining bright in your eyes every single time he appeared in your line of vision you knew you deserved his wrath for every inconvenience you had a role in while inserted into his path. 

“Don’t just say it. Mean it.” 

The room felt smaller, suffocating, colder and Hobi’s words rolled around in your head in every single direction. The three of you were sprawled around your full bed watching a random movie Jimin had picked out. You sat up against the headboard while the two of them laid on their stomachs facing the television hung on your wall. You weren’t alone but your bed felt empty and as you looked off to your right you couldn’t help but be transported back to last night when you and Jungkook finally settled on the Titanic.

The tragic telling of two people who found their way to each other against all circumstances and the barrier of societal norms and expectations that stood in-between them. Of course, aside from Leo unnecessarily dying in the final act this could be a retelling of pinpoints on your relationship with Jungkook. You liked each other, your parents were against it, you lived in the moment and you let your heart lead a way here and there but as soon as the iceberg (your parents, your ex, and even you) became introduced as the antagonist the two of you found yourselves swimming in an ocean of heartbreak and despair. 

You would always assume responsibility for every single way you hurt Jungkook in the past but if one thing must be crystal clear is that you also love him. You did back then and you do now—the only difference is that back then you were looking to please all of those around you and you suppress your feelings in the deepest pocket of your heart but you wanted to liberate it all. You were finally ready to listen to your heart.

It was a composition to a beautiful song, one so loud it courses through your very being, awakening your nerves and causing your thoughts to explode into a frenzy. 

You wanted him here with you. Snuggling into you sharing longing looks and deprived touches. 

You wanted him to be open and push all of his fears away. 

You wanted him to realize that you were different now. Things were different and you would treat him so well. 

I need to talk to her. Yeah. 

Almost as if his brain and his phone were wired together you heard a ding go off right beside you. 

‘Hey, can we please talk?’

Your heart sank because in your experience that sentence never led to a good thing. Never. 

‘Sure. When are you free?’

‘Right now.’

‘Hobi and Jimin are home. You can come over if you don’t mind some company or we can meet somewhere else?’

‘Come to my apartment in 5.’ 

‘K.’ 

Jittery was the exact word you’d use to describe Jungkook at soon as he opened up the door to his apartment and stepped aside to allow you in. The length of his finger had a slight tremble and his eyes were blown wide. 

You hadn’t really seen him like that in a while. 

“Jungkook, are you okay?” 

He nodded, “yeah, just a bit stressed with everything going on plus I’ve had like five energy drinks in the past five hours.” 

“What’s got you so stressed?” you asked standing before him, you felt hesitant to sit anymore. I mean you did have his dick in your mouth like less than twenty-four hours ago but you didn’t want to push it and you certainly did not want to invade his personal space. 

“Too many things, honestly. School for one. .” he ran a hand through his hair taking a brief second to determine exactly what he wanted to reveal to you, “work study plus now I'll be co-coaching the swim team as well.” 

“You’re headstrong Jungkook,” you offered, “I’m sure you’ll do amazingly even with this hectic schedule you are so determined to take on.” 

“I went to this psychic once and she told me my ambition to take on everything would lead to my demise,” he chuckled airily, “I’m beginning to think she was right.” 

“Psychics are bullshit. Who says you can’t have cake and chocolate ice cream too?” 

“Right,” you hadn’t noticed before but casual was Jungkook’s new staple. Seems like he has drifted away from his black boots and particularly dark toned outfits. You liked that version of him quite a lot, although you hadn’t really shown it in the past. However, you also liked the version of him standing before you where he maximized comfort and migrated to mostly tones of white, gray and nudes, “of course you would make that comparison. Cake and chocolate ice cream have always been your go to dessert combination.” 

“Isn’t it everyones?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “for example my nutritionist might say it’s too sugary.” 

“Well, fuck the psychic and that nutritionist of yours too,” Jungkook’s laugh is just like the rest of him—inviting, sweet and genuine. When he laughs, it’s addictive enough to make you want to make him laugh again and again, just so you can hear that sound and see her giggly smile as much as possible, “forreal, but also just remember you gotta just live in the moment, don't worry about tomorrow or even yesterday. Today is all that matters.” 

“I definitely agree but funny enough I kinda wanted to talk to you about what happened last night..” He cleared his throat, “on the couch of your apartment. Well you and Hobi’s apartment.” 

You looked down at your dusty white converse before finding his eyes once again, “what exactly did you want to talk about?” 

Go on. Go on. 

“We’re good right? Are you okay after—well, you know,” was he worried about hurting you after you suck him off yesterday? God, you could suck his dick all over again and then once more after that or preferably until your jaw locks and your knees dissipate. Though, that still wouldn’t be enough to extinguish the burning desire in the pit of your stomach. 

“What exactly are you asking?” you took a step towards him, “shouldn’t I be the one making sure we’re good especially considering all of our history together?” 

“Forget that.” 

Don’t bring it up, please. Just forget about it. 

“I can’t Jungkook,” you sighed, “I wanna make sure we’re okay and I wanna apologize for what happened. Please, let me do it. I don’t want you to resent me for the rest of your life because of it.” 

“There’s no need to. I forgave you long ago. The cold stares and snarky comments were always just a front,” he confessed, “I forgave you the second after everything went down.” 

“And I thank you for that but I still need to do this. I need to get it off my chest,” you reached for his hand; the warmth of his hold settled your nerves and finally you were able to go on, “Please, forgive me Jungkook. For going through with that dare and kissing you in the bathroom. I did want to kiss you but I should’ve never let them take a picture; it only made things worse for you. I’m sorry for not comforting you after your fight with my idiot ex, although I wanted to. I was scared but you were too and it was my fault so I should’ve been there. I’m sorry for ghosting you after we spent the night together at Yeonjun’s party—my parents, they gave me an ultimatum and I was just a high school senior still very dependent on them and I know that’s not an excuse but I managed to make it one back then. Most of all I’m so fucking sorry for not reaching out to you sooner and making things right. I just hope it isn’t too late now.” 

His hands abandoned yours and instead he leaned over before cupping your face, “I told you already. I forgave you for everything a long time ago.” 

“I appreciate your kind heart and forgiving nature, Jungkook,” you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in the process, “but still I needed you to know how truly sorry I am.”

“Please, stop apologizing,” he sighed, “the past is the past and you have no reason to be apologizing to me right now.” 

“You keep saying that but I did and I do,” Jungkook’s stare was comforting; his eyes felt like embers burning your skin under the sun rays shining bright during the mid-afternoon sun, “and I will continue to do so at any given minute. I need to make up for all of that lost time—every single minute; every hour I’ve let you slip through my fingers. You deserve to be treasured, loved and cherished for the rest of your days and I will do just that if you allow me to.” 

“What exactly are you asking me?” 

“I’m simply asking that we allow things to ride out and perhaps the tide might just take us somewhere beautiful.” 

He giggled, “do these sonnets just live in that pretty little head of yours?” 

“My head is more than just pretty,” you challenge. 

“I know that,” this is the giddiest you’ve ever seen Jungkook be. In recent times he had adopted a sort of hard shell, which he often wore like a shield but today as he leaned on his kitchen island with his head propped up on his palms he looked elated, “I just like the way you describe the potential of there being an. . us.”

“Do you like it enough to give things a chance? Maybe even go on a date?” the tremble in your extremities gave away just how truly nervous you felt, though you tried your best to hide it. You’d never asked anyone out before but for Jungkook you were willing to make the first move. 

She’s so poetic with her affinity for love. I like the way her eyes light up when she talks about us being together. 

“How about tomorrow?” 

“I’m free tomorrow.” 

The following day was a blur overshadowed by a nimbostratus cloud which swept in a vicious squall with gusts so powerful your room was left a literal mess as you spent hours prior to Jungkook picking up frantically looking for the perfect date outfit. 

Now, you sat in your little casual red dress in the passenger seat of the car Jungkook borrowed from his best friend. Your balmy sat atop your thighs and you tapped your fingers lightly on your heated skin. 

The night sky was beautiful—drowning with a million of bright stars and a moon so illuminating it spotlighted your path. Nightlife here roared with vibrancy and the sidewalks were congested with people bar hopping or looking for dinner spots among other things.  This scene had great capability in finally claiming your attention away from Jungkook and his sinful thoughts but it was hard. Every single image Jungkook painted within the beauty of his mind blasted in your head seemingly like a framed art piece in a gallery. Except, the only difference was that roaming around a museum was peaceful, whereas Jungkook's wandering thoughts made you quiver and sent glacial shivers down your spine. 

For the duration of the ten minute car ride he’s use the weapon known as his mind and managed to peel your clothes off, re-imagining the way your mouth moved on his cock, then, within seconds he painted a picture of what it would be like to fuck you against the hood of his car. You’d admit the depiction of you against the cold metal bumper with your dress hiked up to your waist, while he pounds into you relentlessly really was more than enough to ignite (with the man sitting behind the wheel; eyes hyper focused on the road ahead; and his tattooed knuckles gripping the steering wheel), about a million fantasies you wanted to fulfill with his assistance. 

But the urge to have the heat of his touch roam every inch of your body became abated when Jungkook parked his car and you found yourselves sitting across from each other in the red booth of a seafood restaurant on the pier. The incandescent bulb overhead did very little to irradiate the space between you and yet Jungkook still looked as radiant as ever. The muffled and incessant chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the establishment became similar to the buzzing of bumble bees and truly you weren’t really too sure you could make out conversations they engaged in. 

You were kind of nervous and although you’d hope it wasn’t too obvious you couldn’t help the way your eyes scanned the room and your body failed to comply with the simple order of sitting still. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook sat up on the leather seat and looked off outside the glass window drinking in the vicious waves as they crashed against the golden shore. 

You look beautiful every single day. 

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I see your signature black boots have finally made a comeback,” you followed his eyes out to get a view of the roaring sea, “I thought you might’ve grown out of them.” 

This look—tonight was the epitome of teenage Jungkook core and you couldn’t help but savor the brief stroll down memory lane. Of course, back in high school you’d always had a tiny little crush on him and while you worked to get over it; that was not an issue today. You were gawking—practically drooling at how amazing his biceps looked under the sleeves of his white tee, his black jeans hugged his thick thighs and his hair was tied half up half down and of course those damned black boots. 

“They’re my secret weapon. I just keep them in the back of my closet for special occasions.” 

I also know they were always your favorite look on me. 

“In that case, I’m honored that a night with me is considered a special occasion enough to bring out the boots,” Jungkook finally turned towards you, his eyes shining bright like jewels even in the shitty lighting. 

“I figured it fit our little slice of history perfectly.” 

“Don’t tell me these were the exact ones you wore that day? 

“They are the exact same ones.” 

“I thought you would have gotten rid of them with everything that transpired,” you whispered; talking about the past still felt taboo. 

“I contemplated that many times,” he shrugged then proceeded in a timorous voice, “but I just couldn’t. There is an abundance of bad memories attached to them but the memory of my first kiss trumps all negatives.” 

“Your first kiss?” Your shock was evident and for a second you had to look around just to make sure you weren‘t too loud but the people around the two of you were too into their own conversations. They were oblivious to the little corner you and Jungkook occupied towards the back of the restaurant—in your own little world, “I-I was your first kiss?” 

He nodded before taking a small sip of his water. 

“Jungkook?” 

He looked at you, “what?” 

“Are you being one-hundred percent serious. . I was your first kiss?” 

Jungkook pressed his lips into a tight line causing his cheeks to become impaled by his chasmic dimples; then, he closed his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath, “I was a loser in high school. Of course, I was spared a few friends but in the ‘love’ department I was lacking severely so naturally no one was ever interested in pursuing anything romantic with me. Until, that afternoon when the girl I’d been crushing on finally walked up to me in the bathroom.” 

“If I could go back in time and embrace the feelings that I had for you, Jungkook just to tell you how I actually felt I’d do it in a heartbeat,” your heart beat rhythmically in your chest and quickly you began feeling fatigued as if your air supply would be cut off if you didn’t peel back every single one of your layers and confess exactly how you felt. 

“If I could go back in time and tell you what I actually felt despite the consequences I’d also do it in a heartbeat,” he murmured, taking your hands in his. 

“Good evening and welcome to Under the Sea, can I get you started on anything tonight?” the server approached. Her hair was tied up messily and she wore a black polo and black pants while carrying around a small notepad and pencil in her hand. She seemed friendly but a bit overwhelmed—though, you couldn’t really blame her, this place is leaning a whole lot towards chaos. 

“Yeah, we’re ready,” Jungkook said, a fib of course, the two of you had been too busy talking to scan the menu before she came over, “I’ll take the Cioppino. Anything looking appetizing to you?” 

“I think I’ll take the Paella.” 

“And for drinks?” she asked scribbling away on her notepad. 

“I’ll have a Coke.” 

“Same here,” the two of you handed back the menu, “thank you.”

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she smiled before walking off towards the kitchen. 

The rest of the night at Under the Sea was brief and while you and Jungkook indulged in small talk here and there the two of you were starving and more concerned about getting something in your stomach. After leaving the busy restaurant Jungkook led you in the opposite direction of the parking lot towards the small park across the street from the beach. Right under the live oak tree there was a blanket laid out with numerous flameless candles flickering their feeble light around the very spot. As you got closer you noticed the basket sitting next to the blanket on the grass and the rose petals scattered around. 

“Jungkook. .” You became stunned at the attention to detail of the man before you. Everything looked so beautiful, “you did this all? W-when did you even have the time to set this up?” 

“I set everything up before our date and I know some of the workers from the restaurant and asked them to check in every once in a while and bring our snacks out like five minutes ago so nothing would spoil.” 

“You prepared snacks for us?” 

“More like I cut-up some fruits.” 

“In that case I’m judging your knife skills.” 

“Not too harshly though,” he tittered softly and airily. It mimicked the comforting tunes of lullabies, “come one, let’s sit. I have some things lined up for us tonight.” 

You sat beside him on the velvet fabric, you folded your legs to your side and used one of the spare blankets to cover your lap. Before you there were two medium sized tabletop easels and a selection of paints and brushes. 

Jungkook removed the white button up he’d left unbuttoned and kept on the white wifebeater. For the first time you finally had a full view of his sleeve; on full display. The black traces filled in with colorful shades adorned every inch of his right arm all the way down to his wrist. You had the urge to reach out and trace every single pattern but you held back—you and Jungkook were good but this is the beginning stage; first you have to dip your toe in and test the waters. 

She’s staring at my arms. . Be calm. 

Don’t flex. . Don’t flex. 

Dammit. 

He flexed, reaching up to brush a stand of hair back and out of his face. 

You smiled, “so, what’s supposed to be our inspiration for painting tonight?” 

“Each other. You paint me and I’ll paint you.” 

“Jungkook, I’m a lousy painter,” you whined. 

“The point isn’t for it to be good,” Jungkook began brushing soft strokes on the canvas, “it’s about the creative process. . the ideas that your mind interprets into art.” 

“That’s easy for you to say,” you scoffed. 

“Art didn’t always come easy to me.” 

“How did you know this is what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?” you finally picked up a brush and squeezed a dash of paint on the wooden palette, allowing your hands to work freely—to create. 

“The first time I drew anything for others to see was in high school,” his eyes were gleaming with thoughts of reminisce, “Ms. Julie, reached out to me sophmore year, said she needed my help designing the yearbook cover for the seniors that year.” 

“I remember the cover that year,” Jungkook looked over at you and there was a layer of joy featured on his face, “it was absolutely beautiful and I also remember every single cover after that being just as amazing.” 

“Thank you,” his cheeks were a crisp crimson now, “I designed all of the year books every year after that as well. Actually, I still help Ms. Julie from time to time even now.” 

“That’s amazing. It’s truly a gift that your hands possess and I’m so glad we get to see what they create.” 

Jungkook stopped his movements all together, his gaze no longer set on the easel, instead he looked downward, his cheeks still burned bright, maybe a little more now than before and by the paced heaves of his chest he seemed to be calculating his every breath. 

“Thank thank you,” he stammered. 

“And just so you know I intend to shower you with compliments, so get used to it.” 

He beamed, “what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“What are your passions?” 

You shrugged, “Hm, I was never really good at anything back in highschool and while I knew I had to do something. I had a really tough time figuring things out.” 

“But then. .” 

“Then, I did an internship at the daycare on campus the summer before classes started and I realized how much I love being around all of the kids,” you said, “and at that moment I automatically knew what my major would be, come the fall semester.” 

“Funny how life works right?” 

“One-hundred percent.” 

The cool draft of the expeditious night swept by softly allowing you to leave behind the once scorching afternoon. Right now, you became a resident in your very own slice of heaven and in your head the only people around for miles were you and Jungkook. For the past thirty minutes, the two of you haven’t crossed many words, you were too focused on contextualizing the perfect artwork—one that’ll remind him of you wherever he sees it. 

Now, you were not an artist by any means but you tried nevertheless. The best interpretation of him you could come up with was to depict the sheer contrast between the different versions of himself. 

The two were slightly different yet when meshed together working symbiotically to make Jungkook the perfect mixture of tranquil, mesmerizing and lulling all in one. 

Your canvas was split in two—one side you painted baby blue with music notes substituting the clouds in what would be the bright afternoon sky and and a lousy excuse for a guitar sitting on the bottom. This was the version of him that lived inside and the one only a few people got to see. His mysterious aura and great passion for music. Then, on the opposite side you painted a black background in combination with it there was an abundance of colorful art supplies scattered all throughout. This one represented what he chooses to show and what many saw on the outside on his day-to-day course. 

After some finishing touches you moved back on taking one last look at your work, “okay. . Here, I tried my best but it’s not your face. Just some things that remind me of you.” 

“Let’s see,” he hummed excitedly, waiting for you to turn the canvas around. 

“Be nice, okay?” 

“I will, I will.” 

When Jungkook was excited there were a lot of distinctive actions that communicated with his body and expressions. His eyes lit up like the explosions of fireworks on a summer night; his shoulders were raised up past his jawline and his cheeks burned bright. 

“It’s not good, okay,” you beamed at his cheerfulness; it was cute how thrilled he was. 

“It’s perfect,” he leaned closer to sneak a glance, “come on. Let me see.” 

“Fine,” turning the canvas around felt like an invasion of privacy, although everything on it was solely about him, it was still like a clear window into your soul and how you saw him. 

You’d never been this vulnerable before with anyone. Never. 

He scanned the explosion of colors sitting in-between your hands. Jungkook’s lips curved up while the corners of his eyes wrinkled in amusement. 

“This is amazing and absolutely the best depiction of everything I love.”

“Don’t lie to me, Professor Picasso.” 

“I don’t lie about art,” he reached for it and you placed it in his hands, “and this is a masterpiece.” 

You scoffed. 

“I’m serious,” he argued, “this is going up on my art wall. Front and center.” 

“This better be the only thing on your art wall,” you muttered. 

Jungkook finally grabbed his canvas holding it close to his chest. . Well, as close as he could due to the wet paint, “Here’s mine.” he still had not turned it around for you to see. 

“You know you actually have to turn it for me to take a look.” 

He chuckled, “I know but nervousness is contagious. . Just gimme one second.” He took a deep breath before slowly turning the canvas in your direction and there you were. Same facial features, hair style and red dress you had chosen for the night. The talent his fingers convey is jaw dropping. It is evident Jungkook is an amazing artist through and through. 

“Jungkook. .” You knew he was good; you’d seen the covers he had designed for the highschool yearbook back then, still, that didn’t prepare you for this in the slightest bit to see yourself from his point of view, “I don’t have an art wall but this will definitely be the beginning of one in my apartment.” 

He guffawed while passing his painting over. 

“I’m serious,” you continued, now closely examining his precise attention to detail. He got every single attribute down to the smallest scars and birthmarks, “your talent is impeccable. Just look at how amazing this is.  It’s actually not fair at all. I want mine back.” 

“No way! You can’t take back gifts you have already given away to someone.” 

“Yes, I can,” you argued, “especially if my gift looks like shit next to yours.” 

“It most definitely doesn’t. I already told you, I love it and it’s going up on my wall and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he leaned closer, placing a soft peck on your forehead and clutching the painting tight in his grasp. 

You groaned admitting defeat, “but I am expecting a lot more paintings from you.”

“Always.” 

Of course. As long as you’re beside me, and even if some day for some reason you aren’t, you’ll continue to be my muse forever. 

His muse. You love the sound of that. 

The sound of the pouring rain beat rhythmically on the glass window. For the next few hours your bed was your haven and Jungkook’s bare arms were your form of a warm blanket.

Although the clock on your night stand marked four o’clock, the day was as dark as night and as the sun refused to come out to play the dark nimbus clouds invaded the stretch of the expansive sky, refusing to allow even a single ray of light to illuminate your bedroom. 

The power had gone out but the two of you had lit up some candles in various locations of your room. You were both in your underwear, semi-sticky with a thin layer of sweat coating your entire body as a result of the air conditioner no longer being on. 

Even in the heat the two of you couldn’t untangle yourselves from each other. 

“We’ve been laying here in the heat for hours,” his fingers raked over your shoulder and down to the middle of your back. 

“There’s nowhere we can go to cool down for the day. I’m afraid these four walls are it for us today,” you complained. 

“And moving will only make us hotter.” 

“I think the two of us being tangled up like this is already making us hotter.” 

His hands tightened around your waist, “yet there’s nothing you can say to let me go.” 

“Then, it’s a good thing I don’t want you to let go,” you crossed your arms on his chest and laid your chin on them; looking up at him through your lashes taking in his figure as he laid back against the headboard. 

“Why are you looking up at me like that?” he asked though his eyes were still closed. 

“I just like having you. . here.” 

“In your room?” he asked. 

“In my life,” you confessed, “I guess I never thought we could make it here again.” 

“I had faith—hope. I knew that eventually we would get to talk and forgive each other.” 

Every fight and every bicker was a call to drive you closer to me. Immature I know, but it was all I could do and say to get close to you. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong to me, Jungkook,” you traced lines over his collarbones leaving before sparks of electricity; you felt as they traveled down to the tip of your finger, “if anything I was constantly praying you’d forgive me.” 

Forgiving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.  

“I walked away after Yeonjun’s party,” he caressed your cheeks with the pads to his finger, “that was my worst mistake and I knew exactly how it looked too; like I just hit it and quit it.” 

“You didn’t hit it and quit it, Jungkook,” you sighed, “I did that to us. I was the one who walked away from us. None of it was your fault.” 

“But I let you walk away. I didn’t fight for us.” 

“Hey,” you cradled his face in your hands, “I didn’t let you fight for us. This is on me.” 

But I never went searching for you. I just let you—walk away. The night you got up from that longue chair on the rooftop of Yeonjun’s house I thought that was our beginning; I just never thought it could be our end instead. 

“It’s on us,” Jungkook leaned into your touch, softly moving his cheek against your palm, “but we can only work to overcome our past. . Together.” 

You held onto the gold link looped around his neck, clutching it in order to pull him towards you until finally your faces were just an inch away from each other, “Together.” 

“Kiss me, please,” his breath fanned across your lips as you continued guiding him closer and closer to you—his eyes were closed once again and he completely succumbed into this trance of your navigation. His lips were warm and velvet; parting slowly before they landed on yours. You became lost in the way your heartbeat continued beating faster and faster. The soft ballad of the steady thrumming tickled your ears and along with the taste of his mint lips on yours you began feeling a bit faint. 

The room was still hot, the power was still out and you still sat on Jungkook’s lap but now you became exhilarated riding off the feelings in the way your body connected. It wasn’t just the kiss—no, it was also the way his electric touch began tracing the lines outlining your body, traveling down between your breasts, then down your stomach and up your sides until they rested on your hips. Jungkook’s fingers teasingly toyed around with the elastic waistband of your panties, rubbing small circles on your lower back. 

You were breathless pulling away from that kiss but in between breaths you managed to pull his forehead against yours before allowing yourself to speak one again, “Jungkook, can I tell you something?” 

He nodded. 

“I-I want you, Jungkook,” your brain felt like it melted right into mush and there were no coherent thoughts in your head that didn’t revolve around Jungkook. 

You were dickmatized. Yes, you were. 

“You have me.” 

“I want all of you.” 

“Take it all,” he whispered. 

Do anything you want to me. Do everything you want to me. Do whatever you want with me. I am yours for the taking. 

You felt the beads of sweat strolling down your body accompanying the slight tremble in your every movement. Still, you moved with the facade of faux confidence and soon you found yourself straddling his thigh, sinking down against his heated and sticky skin. Indulging in a steady pace you began moving back and forth against his thigh all while holding onto his shoulder for support. Jungkook’s head fell back against the wall but his hands never left your waist guiding your movements to the quickened beat of desperation. 

“You look so pretty riding my thigh. You know that?” he smirked; his cheeks were the tone of wine. Jungkook bit his lip to maintain focus on the sloppy motion he continued to maneuver. 

You hummed entirely consumed by that heated feeling in between your thighs—entranced in the way his soft whimpers only guided you towards that very place where you could finally reach out and touch the stars. 

“Fuck—fuck, keep going, yeah?” you stammered never ever wanting him to stop being the root of your every desire. 

What gave her the impression that I’d stop? This. . Us, it just feels so right. I will never be able to live in a reality where the image of her getting off on my thigh could ever cease—not after today. Not ever. 

“Just-just let me guide you, baby girl,” his voice was low and husk followed by a series of unpaced breaths. 

“Take me there, Jungkook,” you moaned. 

Oh, fuck—I’ll take you there baby. I’ll take you there. I’ll take you there. 

His fingers dug into you while his fingernails left behind marks of deep crescents traced on your skin. The guidance of his movements was near animalistic and the fabric of your panties was now sticking to your juices and there was nothing you craved more than the desirous urge to unravel under the trance of Jungkook’s ministrations. 

Back and forth; back and forth you moved reaching higher and higher as your fingertips brushed touch the points of the luminous star and before you knew your teeth sunk into his shoulders suppressing your moans and your hips no longer followed the rhythm he previously set and you were finally swimming in the night sky—so high; so satiated. 

“Oh,” you breathed, “that-that was amazing.” 

“You tired yet?” he asked. 

“Not at all.” 

Jungkook hugged your waist and flipped the two of you over; your bodies pressing together heatedly against the ocean of sheets, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together once again. His hands quickly dipped under the waistband of your panties reaching for your inner thigh, until you felt him press the pads of his fingers in between your folds smearing the combination of your juices. After  his torturous teasing he slipped two fingers pumping them in and out of you quickly. 

“Oh, baby,” he finally pulled away from your lips, allowing a string of whimpers to slip past your swollen lips, “you feel so fucking good.” 

“Jungkook, faster please,” you rocked your hips to match the beat of his fingers moving in and out of you. 

“Is that what you want?” he hummed, “tell me. You want to cum at the mercy of my fingers?” 

“Yes-yes. That’s what I want please.” 

Jungkook laid beside you on the bed with his face buried in the nape of your neck. His hand still worked diligently to get you off as he whispered soft praises against the shell of your ears. You were in your very own depiction of utopia—euphoric with stimulation of endorphins. 

“I’m close-close, Jungkook,” you dragged your nails down his back, likely leaving streaks of red trails behind as he quickened his pace. Meanwhile, you felt your body temperature skyrocket and the knot in the pit of your stomach tightened until it could not become any tighter and for the second time that night you felt how the storm passed and once again you floated throughout the night sky. 

While Jungkook strove to read your body like the ink inscripted into the pages of his favorite book; the absence of his wandering hands made you feel empty—as if you couldn’t really breathe. At all. 

“What happened, baby girl?” his lips traveled downwards on your body while his hands finally worked to unclasp your bra, (two orgasms later you couldn’t believe you still had all your undergarments on), and now your breasts became the forefront of his attack and leisurely he took each nipple in between his teeth smirking at your gasps and shudders as a result of your sensitivity, “are you the one who can’t stand the rule of not touching today?” 

“Ah—,” he lightly bit the side of your left breast before kissing it better, “the only thing I hate right now is that your dick isn’t in me right now.” 

He laughed; the booming sounds struck just like the raucous cries of thunder just outside your windows, “what makes you think I’m gonna fuck you tonight?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I can feel how hard you are against my leg.” 

“What? This?” Jungkook sat-up on the bed working to remove his boxers. When he finally did he discarded them to the pool of clothes somewhere on your bedroom floor while his cock sat before you like it had been a few days prior.  Jungkook laid back down in front of you, placed a tender kiss on your forehead before he moved closer towards you, lifting your leg up and allowing it to rest on his hip. Once positioned he began rubbing the head of his cock against your clothed slit —especially focusing on the sensitive bud. 

He traced the lines of your lips over and over until you couldn’t take it any longer and tears began filling your eyes and you chanted hastely begging him to fuck you right into the mattress. 

“Please, Jungkook,” a needy whimpered rolled off your tongue, “please fuck me, please fuck me please.” 

Jungkook was now on top of you and he reached down, moving your soaked panties to the side before he lined himself at your entrance. You closed your eyes anticipating that moment when his cock would slip in and stretch you out so good you’d feel full beyond relief. And just as you imagined he slowly pushed himself past your entrance, your mouth fell agape at the sensation of his cock invading you inch by inch. 

The feeling was immeasurable and better than anything you’d ever felt before. 

“Will you be okay if I move?” he asked almost out of breath. 

You nodded frantically.

“Just let me know if you wanna stop at any point, okay?” he remained still. 

You nodded once again. 

Jungkook moved cautiously, setting a lento rhythm—almost as if he thought you’d break if he fucked into you too hard. His tattooed hand brushed your heated cheeks as he continued his agonizingly slow thrusts. The room was still silent for the most part except now in company to the pitter-patter of the pouring rain the two of you contributed your very own duet composed of his guttural groans mixed and your shaky pants. 

His lips left sweet kisses behind on both of your cheeks, then your nose, your chin and lastly your forehead. 

She looks so fucking beautiful like this; all sweaty and aroused just for me. Fucked out just for me. I’m so lucky. So lucky. 

“Jungkook?” you tucked your bottom lip under your top row of teeth. 

“Yes?” 

“Deeper, please,” you whined, “not faster but harder. I want to feel you deep in me.” 

Deeper? Fuck. She’s gonna be the death of me. I swear she is. I’ll fuck you just how you’d like baby girl. I’ll fuck you right. 

“Okay—okay,” he stammered. 

Jungkook stopped his movements and pulled out momentarily as he adjusted his position in between your legs. He grabbed both of them and wrapped them around his waist before pushing past your entrance once again, and yes, it felt just as jaw dropping as the first time. Jungkook’s pace remained lento except now whenever he was about to push back into you he made sure to lunge himself deeper causing the sounds of his skin slapping against yours to echo within the walls of your room. 

“Oh, Jungkoook,” you let out a drawn-out moan, chanting his name repeatedly, “right-right there, oh, Jungkooook. Right there. Please don’t stop.” 

He continued penetrating you just as you wanted until once again, for the third time that night, you were on the very edge of the planet. You could see the exact place where the sky met the earth. Trotting towards the phenom you felt the way your heartbeat quickened and finally as you approached you began clenching around him until you witnessed an explosion of stars behind your eyes; a feeling so blissful your knuckles turned white as you clutched the sheets underneath you in your grasp. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. .” he hissed pulling out quickly. 

“What’s wrong?” you gasp at the feeling of emptiness now substituted by a ravenous void. 

“I almost finished inside of you and we forgot to wear a condom,” his cock was held tightly in his hand.

You swiped your tongue on your lips, “would you like some help with that?” 

“That is not how today is supposed to go,” he mocked. 

“Fine,” you shrug, “but I was going to offer my body as an alternative.” Jungkook’s  pupils become dilated, your words obviously peeking his interest, “come on my face, Jungkook.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive.” 

Jungkook towered over you on the bed, kneeling right beside you on the bed—by now you were spent, too tired to do anything but lay there and admire the way his head hung back as he worked to find his release. The design of his tattoos followed suit beginning all the way from his shoulder blade, to his flexed and veiny bicep all the way down to the tight clasp of his finger around his shaft moving hastily from base to tip. 

“Look at you, baby girl. All eager for me to come on you,” Jungkook said through clenched teeth, “you’re so naughty for me. All for me.” 

“All for you, Jungkook,” you repeated, “I can’t wait to feel just how warm you’ll be on my face. Come on, baby. ” 

Your mantra of praises rolled off your tongue semi-automatically but you were needy to feel his seed on you so you continued using your words to aid him in the process of jerking off. He continued moving his hand up and down his length until the tip became painted white with drops of pre-come. 

“I’m almost—” he cried out; his guttural whimpers sent waves of glacial shivers interlacing with the ridges of your spine. 

“Yes, Jungkook. Be a good boy.” 

“I am a good boy,” his labored breathing came out in puffs, “I am. .” 

“Then, come on baby. I’m waiting.” 

Jungkook was immersed in what you knew was likely the build-up of his approaching release. His chest inflated and deflated rapidly, while the muscles in his stomach tightened accentuating his already sculpted physique while his cheeks turned a bright scarlet. 

“I’m coming!” He cried out. 

The spurts of his white semen painted your face as he worked himself to the very last drop. Even in his moment of release Jungkook was careful enough to aim towards your mouth and chin and you licked everything within reach of your tongue. 

“Let me get a wet rag and I’ll clean you up okay?” Jungkook stood from the bed and placed a kiss on your forehead before walking towards your bedroom door and opening it up. 

A few seconds went by and suddenly you heard a loud shriek and a plethora of muffled words which sounded a lot like your best friend, Hoseok. Not a lot of time went by before you saw Jungkook enter the room frantically before slamming the door shut and leaning against the wooden surface. 

“Hoseok’s home?” you laughed. 

“And Jimin.” 

“And they saw?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Please remind me to never leave this room naked again.”

“Yes! Please remind him!” Hoseok yelled from just outside the door. 

A bursting titter erupted between the two of you and Jungkook climbed back into bed with you before he helped you wipe off the mess he’d made on your body, then laid down beside you. 

“Can I ask you something?” You began snuggling deeper into his embrace. 

“Yes?.” 

“Will you stay here tonight?” You asked barely above a whisper—barely audible. 

Jungkook rested his chin on the crook of your neck, “of course, I’ll stay with you tonight.” 

There was no place you’d rather be than embraced in the solace of Jungkook’s warmth. 

Tonight, tomorrow, and forever after that. 

I’ll always stay with you.

-

-

-

an: you know what im about to say right? ignore the smut scene ~if you must~ it literally took me like two weeks to write because my brain wasn’t working >.<

i literally started working on this like a week before seven released…. *gulps*

#bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts reactions #bts imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts jungkook smut #bts jungkook au #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #mentions of literally every member + txt’s yeonjun

[moonstruckme]

i don’t know if this is something you might feel comfortable with writing but could you do something like any of the marauders or poly!marauders where they have a moment of misogyny. it could be towards reader or just in general during a conversation. i think it’s really interesting considering their time period isn’t really that progressive yet.

Thanks for requesting!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Three days ago, you’d decided to go on strike. Three days, and now the sink is completely full of disgusting, almost-smelly dishes with food still crusted to them. 

Sirius simply doesn’t do dishes. Ever. You’re not sure if it’s some kind of rich boy syndrome where he thinks he just puts them in the sink and then later they magically disappear, but the assumption that he doesn’t have to clean up after himself is really starting to grate on your nerves. 

You have to remind yourself that Sirius is a great boyfriend. For the most part, you like living with him, you really do. He brings you home sweets after he gets off work, he gives you lazy massages while you sit watching TV at night, and you may be biased, but you think he’s generally a delight to have around. 

So for a while, you tried to tell yourself that it was worth having to do a few extra dishes. You love him, and he loves you, and there’s no reason to rock the boat, right? You could do this extra thing for him, just like he does so many for you. But eventually, it was the lack of appreciation that got to you. 

When Sirius takes his plate to the kitchen after dinner, you keep your voice light as meringue. “Would you mind washing that, please?” 

“Why?” 

Ire flares to life faster than you knew it could. You think your eye twitches. 

“Why?” you repeat.

“Yeah.” Sirius turns to look at you over the kitchen counter, and the confusion is so plain on his face that it mollifies you slightly. “Can’t you do it?” 

“Why would you assume I’m going to do it?” 

He shrugs. “Because you like cleaning stuff, right?” 

You force yourself to breathe in and out through your nose, but despite your best intentions, the words come out with a sharp edge. “Not really.” 

Sirius actually blinks in surprise. “Oh. But I thought…you’re always saying Sunday is relaxing for you because it’s your cleaning day.” 

“That’s because I like to have things be clean, Sirius. Not because I like cleaning.” 

“Oh,” he says again, seeming somewhat lost. “Okay, I’ll just…wait, is that why all these dishes are in the sink? Have you been trying to tell me something?” 

“Those are all yours.” You’re burning through your fury fast, and you know what will be left after it’s used up. But you’re not going to cry about this. You will not. 

“I didn’t realize.” Sirius looks up at you, a crease forming between his brows. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, I had no idea. I just thought you liked doing them yourself.” 

“It’s fine,” you say, but it’s not, and your voice is taking on a slight wobble despite your determination to keep it out. “I just…I wish you wouldn’t have assumed that I’d always do them for you. It kind of hurt my feelings that you never asked, or said thank you.” 

“Aw, baby.” Sirius sets his plate down, coming around the counter. He hesitates a second, looking back at the pile. “I’m going to do those in a second, okay?” he reassures you before crossing the rest of the distance to where you sit on the couch. “I’m so sorry, gorgeous. I’m an idiot.” 

You nod up at the ceiling, blinking to keep your tears from falling. 

A ring-clad hand finds your shoulder, thumb rubbing into your collarbone. “Hey, just let it out.” 

“No, I’m still—” you draw in a breath, and a tear slips down your cheek. “I’m still mad at you. Just ignore this. I don’t want to cry when we’re in a fight.” 

“We don’t have to be in a fight,” he suggests. “I’m sorry for all of it, I was totally in the wrong. I didn’t mean to make you feel…baby, hey, would you look at me?” 

You take a deep breath before you do, more tears falling as soon as gravity allows them. You try to ignore them, but Sirius sets a hand to each cheek, thumbing them away. He looks miserable, lips pressed into a thin line to hide his own discontent. 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel unappreciated,” he says softly. “I do appreciate you. You do so many sweet things every day, and I appreciate them so much. But you’re right, I wasn’t appreciating how you were cleaning my dishes for me. I’m really sorry, sweetheart.”

It all feels really good to hear. Part of you wants to let him go on, but you have too many questions to stay quiet. “You never did your own dishes before, did you?” 

His eyes drop to your shoulder, embarrassed. “No. I guess it might have been my mother, or we had some, like, help” —his face contorts as if the word tastes bitter in his mouth— “but I actually never asked who did them. Pretty fucked, huh?” You agree, but you play it down with a one-shouldered shrug. Sirius seems like he’s feeling guilty enough without your help. “And then in my last place, it was just James and I, so we used pretty much paper everything. No dishes to clean.” He shakes his head at himself, dismayed. “I never even thought about it. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I put that on you without even thinking.” 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. Then, at the look he gives you, “Okay, it wasn’t before, but I think it can be now. It was…a tad inconsiderate, but now you know, right?” 

He nods determinedly. “Now I know. Promise.” 

“And now you’re not just going to assume every woman in your life will do the housework for you?” 

Despite your teasing tone, Sirius brings a hand to his face, his head lolling back despondently. “Fuck. I’m a real piece of shit, huh?” 

“You were acting like one,” you say laughingly, reaching forward to give him an affectionate shake by the shoulder, “but you’re not.” 

When he tilts his head towards you again, hair falling in his eyes, there’s still evidence of guilt lining his features but he seems to be trying to get back to his usual levity. He pouts at you, taking your face back between his hands. His rings are cool against your skin. “I can’t believe I made you cry because I’m too much of a prick to do my own dishes.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to cry.” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I don’t want your pity, Black.” 

Sirius’ pout worsens, his thumbs stroking over your cheeks. “I can’t help it. You did weeks of unpaid labor.” He kisses the skin above your nose tenderly. “My sweet girl. You should have told me earlier.” 

Your face warms a bit under his hands. “I did sort of take the petty route by letting your dishes pile up.” 

“I’ve earned some petty treatment,” he says firmly. “You should have let my dishes pile up from the first day I moved in. You should have put them in my room so I’d have to ask about them. In my bed, under the sheets.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “Jesus, I’m not that cruel. That’d be disgusting.” 

“I know, baby,” Sirius laughs, pressing another kiss to the tip of your nose. “That’s because I’m the petty one. You’re just in training.”

#sirius black #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x self insert #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black hurt/comfort #sirius black angst #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #sirius black baby blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one shot #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #marauders #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[star-suh]

Delivery Boy

Johnny Suh x Male Reader

cw: dom-ish top johnny, johnny has a big thick dick… man's hung >:D, rough sex, spit play, dub-con, blowjob, deepthroat, unprotected sex, dumbification, underwear gagging, a bit of degradation, musk kink, choking, tummy bulge, creampie, cumming hands-free, pwp.

an: the mission = end the johnny suh drought.

—

it was sunday and yn was bored and the bastard decided to make prank calls to the local pizzeria, ordering pizzas with fake voice tones and giving wrong addresses that led to nowhere. one of the delivery boys, johnny, was starting to lose his patience, then the phone rang and he answered “hello, pizzeria, can i take your order?”, “oh yeah hello” on the other side of the phone yn was snickering trying hard to not laugh, “i want the extra large with lots of cheese please”. unfortunately, yn got careless and spoke with his normal voice tone and johnny recognized him, now knowing who the idiot behind the prank calls was, he was ready to give him a spoonful of his own medicine…

someone was calling at yn's door, he was weirded the fuck out because he wasn't expecting visits at night, “oh hello johnny” yn greeted laughing nervously “what are you doing here?”, “came here because someone ordered a pizza” johnny was unfazed. “i'm s-sorry i di-didn't ordered a pizza. you must be confused”. “why are you stuttering ynnie? you didn't stutter while making those prank calls” smirked the taller. “what?” 

johnny forced himself into yn's house pushing him against the wall, with one hand he grabs the other by both wrists and put them above him and unconsciously putting his knee right under yn's crotch “cut the bullshit yn, i know you were the one behind those calls”. “i'm not, you dumbass” he answered, trying to get out of the other's grip.

“do you know how much time we've wasted,how much money did we lose, all because fucking yn was bored”, johnny pressed his knee more feeling the bulge above it. his head hang low… he smirks and look at yn directly into his eyes “you like it rough huh?” his evil smile sending shivers all over yn's body. “l-let me go please” yn begged “i would pay for all the pizzas but don't hurt me. “well… you have to pay for them of course but i want something else to make up for the wasted time” his knee pressed harder and harder on yn's bulge, making him moan shyly. 

yn's eyes wandered on johnny's body and that's where he noticed the bulge on his pants ‘looks heavy’ he thought, a blush appearing on his cheeks. 

johnny forces yn to kneel down, then the next thing yn knows is johnny's thick big cock coming out of his pants and landing on top of his face, yn sniffed his balls and shaft, the muski scent making him feel dizzy. “open up” johnny demanded and yn obeyed “that's a good whore” inch by inch the taller's cock intruded into his wet mouth, until it was balls deep. his cock was so big and thick that it formed a bulge on the other's throat. when he pulls out he wowed watching his cock dripping in thick saliva, he shakes it a bit and then put it on yn's face smearing the saliva on it too. watching how hot he looked with all that saliva, johnny grabbed him by the jaw opening his mouth and spitting on it kissing him right away, playing with the spit inside their mouths. 

johnny once again introduced his cock on the other male's mouth, thrusting hard this time forcing yn to deepthroat him while pinching his nose to make him gasp for air and therefore thightening more his throat “is so fucking thight. who would've thought your mouth would feel this good. shit!”. with every thrust johnny did yn's head bumped against the wall, tears falling down his cheeks. johnnt kept mouthfucking yn until he flooded it with his seed, laughing at how yn was massaging his jaw for how sore it was.

johnny lifted yn and pushed him against the wall, he tapped his thighs “open wide”, yn obeyed , opening his legs and showing his pink hole to the taller. johnny slaps right into the hole making yn moan and his legs tremble, the top slapped the tip right into the hole and introduce it all at once forming a bulge in yn's lower tummy “ugh.. so.. fu..cking big~” he slurred, feeling the big thing rearranging his insides.

each thrust was stronger than the last, yn could feel the anger that johnny had at him for what he did that could have cost johnny's job, “slow… down plea-” the bottom couldn't finish his sentence because the other gagged him with his underwear “you look better being quiet” he whispered.

yn's legs were shaking for how rough johnny fucked him, he pulled out his cock appreciating the puckered gaping hole spitting on it and watching how it rolled deep down the other's insides, johnny pushed yn's head against the wall with his big hand “you've been a bad guy yn” he says “you don't deserve my cum inside you”. he takes out his cock and starts to stroke it while still pushing the other's head. lots of thick gooey cum came from the tip of his cock, painting yn's back and ass cheeks in white “however, the time we spent now was very hot and i kinda like it so maybe you deserve to have just a little bit of it inside you” and as he says that, he puts his cock back in, which still had traces of cum on the tip. the thrust was so hard and reached so deep inside him that it made yn cum hands-free.

johnny finishes and yn fell down the floor, his legs kept shaking and he was tired, “next time think before making a prank again” johnny was about to leave when he heard yn mumbling something “maybe i should keep doing pranks specially in where you work”. yn was laughing, he enjoyed it and he wanted more. johnny scoffed and smirked “you're an unbelievable son of a bitch. keep doing those pranks then” leaving right away.

#johnny suh x male reader #johnny seo x male reader #johnny x male reader #seo youngho x male reader #johnny suh #johnny suh smut #johnny suh x male reader smut #johnny seo x male reader smut #johnny x male reader smut #seo youngho x male reader smut #nct x male reader #nct 127 x male reader #nct u x male reader #nct 127 smut #nct smut #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut

[rosiesroseas]

No period = frantic boyfriend

suguru x f!reader + pregnancy scare

angel: Not in today, just threw up

Amongst the class, only sat Satoru and Suguru, Yaga should be in soon. Suguru suspects Shoko is with you, possibly using actual medical attention on your since it doesn’t sound to severe.

“I do know the basics, leave me alone,” she muttered. “It’s for y/n ‘cause she gets sick a lot,”

Suguru grows flush, mind roaming through possible answers.

“I see,”

“It’s not what you think!”

suguru x: Are you ok?

suguru x: Text me if you need anything so I can bring it after

“The missus?” Gojo inquired, his head protruding out a bit to gaze at the messages. But Suguru retracts it.

“Yeah, supposedly sick,” he huffs out. As bored as his tone lets on, only Satoru and you could decipher that he worries (it’s not particularly hard, since it’s in the way he grows distant in his current circumstances)

Satoru chuckles, “cheer up! Y/N-chan is probably just on her monthly!”

Suguru’s scowl deepens.

“What? At least you know you’re not going to be a father anytime soon,”

Suguru chokes. A small series of coughing ignite within his throat. He hears the maniacal laugh of his friend soon after.

“Don’t speak about that so… comfortably,” he utters, his brows furrowing out of shock.

“Blah, blah, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Gojo dismisses, “Sex is natural Suguru, you should know,”

Satoru wiggles his eyebrows, and Suguru feels himself fall into a pit of shame instead of his friend.

It’s only been a few months since his first time. You were his first (and hopefully, his only) It was an agreement between you both; once you both hit the age of 18, was when you two could finally give in to the temptation.

Ever since, he feels the desire more deeply than before.

“Shut up,”

Suguru resumes going through his phone, and Satoru continues to talk (nothing new)

angel: i’m late asw

Suguru’s hand shoots out, landing firmly onto Satoru’s shoulder. His friend had been chatting about something irrelevant after his teasing rampage, Suguru seemed occupied with his phone, but Satoru knows he can multi-task his hearing.

“What?” Satoru raises his eyebrows.

“I’m going to pass out,”

Satoru has seen his friend covered in blood, witnessed him take blows after blows from deadly opponents, gazed upon the sight in which Toji Fushiguro left him in, he has once never passed out because of them.

But now, Suguru is safe, in an environment in which he relaxes into. And he utters words like that?

But Suguru isn’t true to his word, matter-of-fact, he’s capable of pacing around the classroom like madman rather than someone who was at the brink of becoming unconscious.

“what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” Suguru mutters.

Whilst he’s in his anxious state, Satoru takes it upon himself to see what made his friend so… weird.

angel: i’m late asw

“Oh shit!”

Both boys pace around frantically, Suguru doesn’t take notice of his companion doing the same as him. He’s too deep in thought: What if he’s not a good dad? What if his baby grows up in this mess-of-a-society? What if Satoru gives them a sweet tooth? What if you’re not ready? What will happen to you if you proceed with this? Wouldn’t it hurt your body?

Satoru is the same: I need to work on my baby skill. Would Suguru let me take him out for ice cream every Sunday? Will you let him? Will the baby even like sweets?What should I get for the baby shower? Maybe Suguru will let me do those cliché gender reveals.

Yaga walks through, his stern expression growing more intense as he stares at his two idiotic students.

“What are you two doing?”

They both still. Suguru glances over to Satoru, Satoru glances back; both completely panicked.

“Nothing-”

“Sir! Suguru is due to be a father!”

“Am not!”

Suguru sees his teacher, and for once, it isn’t masked with a sense of authority and annoyance. He can do that? He seems in disbelief, his arms slightly unfolding, but he still remains set.

Suguru stumbles, “no, it’s-it’s nothing like that, sir,” —shaking his head— “Satoru, here, doesn’t know what he’s talking about,”

Satoru bashfully sways on his feet when Suguru glares skillfully at him. Yaga too, seeming as it wasn’t his information to spill.

“No need to be ashamed or scared, you-you know kids aren’t all that bad, they get a bad rep because of parenting but most aren’t as—”

“Sir, I don’t think this is necessar-” Suguru is cut off by his teachers life-lecture, he feels himself internall curl into the depths of shame and worry, possibly even anger at himself that he didn’t think of this consequence efficiently.

He sees his phone has received new messages.

angel: NVM

angel: just had a shower, and it all came out

angel: it was disgusting

Purposefully out of his persona, he lets out a large sigh, falling into his seat, disrupting the tangent his teacher had carried onto.

“She has it, no need to worry now,”

Yaga grunts, he feels like his words went to waste.

“Don’t worry, sir! I shall use that information wisely,” Satoru exclaims, saluting promptly as if he were a soldier at war.

“Shut up, will you!”

-

“Satoru just texted, said him and Suguru just finished panicking,” shoko utters out, “and that Yaga gave them a talk about kids,”

“Wow, I didn’t think it would scare him that much,”

“Any guy who gets that text is bound to react like that, Y/N,”

“You’re right,” you said, eyes lingering on into thought, “I wonder what Yaga said,”

“Now that you said that,” Shoko quips, her cigarette coming out of her mouth, “me too.”

#jjk x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk #jjk imagine #rosiesroseas

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 18.3k ❧ warnings: cursing, renjun gets CONSENSUALLY dosed with a magical aphrodisiac For Science ❧ genre: fluff, humor, one (1) heavy makeout scene but no actual smut, 0.1 seconds of angst if you can even call it that, academic rivals to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, siren reader, human renjun ft. siren ten, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: in my lore, siren scales are visible when they’re in more human-like forms because of magic, and it’s not an indication of their skin tone at all. so when the reader’s scales are mentioned, please don’t take this as any sort of allusion to them being pale/light-skinned! i tried to take care and make sure i wasn’t implying that in how i wrote it, but please tell me if it reads like that this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: y’all. get ready for this one. no spoilers but renjun and reader r both crazy and nobody should be subjected to them except each other. like they both look at the other and think “i could fix them but whatever the fuck is wrong with them is infinitely funnier to me” but they’re both Wrong. they could not fix the other. i don't want what they have but good for them. anyway as always i had way too much fun writing this that it went over my projected word count and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it too

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“Would you shut up?” You sat back up, grabbing him by the hair.

“Why?”

“I’m trying to kiss you again, idiot.”

2608, 2610, 2612…

The numbers of the study rooms you passed by went up, up, up, as you continued your hunt. You knew he’d be here. It was the day before the first test in your Linguistics in Magical Creatures Studies class, meaning he was going to be holed up in the library until closing time. Now it was just a matter of finding him. Somewhere quiet, obviously, which was why you’d completely skipped the first floor with its wide-open “collaboration areas.” The second floor was all bookshelves and private study rooms that would hold four or five students at most. You peered into the narrow window on each painted metal door as you walked down the hall. While the first floor was recently renovated with new technology and upgrades such as the “collaboration areas” and bright pops of your university’s school colors that made for great promotional photos to put on the website and pamphlets to hand out to new students, this floor hadn’t had seen anything more than a janitor in a good couple decades. The musty, stale smell of old, unused books was all around you, the air conditioning hummed and clicked irregularly, all the furniture had ugly, outdated patterns, and the exactly three desktop computers they did have in a far back corner were practically as old as you. Which, in the digital age, meant that they were artifacts belonging in a museum.

And of course, sitting at very last one, as if he had been hiding behind all of these bookshelves from you personally, was Huang Renjun.

Renjun was sat in the wooden chair facing the computer, clearly deep in thought. He had one foot propped up on the wide chair seat as both of his hands were on the archaic-looking keyboard, speedily typing something out. He wore a pair of jeans, yellow hoodie, and a red backwards baseball cap kept his hair out of his face. An open energy drink can and empty bag of chips on the desk next to him belied that he had already been there for some time.

Now that you had found your target, you put on a burst of speed, stalking up to him from the side and smacking your hand down on the tabletop beside him. “Renjun.”

The human jumped in his seat, looking up from his screen to you. Taking his hands from the keyboard, he made a couple quick clicks on the mouse as he used the other to take his headphones out of his ears. “Y/N. Fucking hell… is your new strategy this semester to give me a heart attack and kill me?”

“If murder was on the table as part of our little academic rivalry, don’t you think I would’ve just drowned you after our Intro course freshman year?” You asked, tilting your head innocently. After all, you were a siren, that would be much easier than scaring him into an early cardiac episode.

Huang Renjun was not your friend. Not necessarily an acquaintance either, you’d known him for going on four years now, since your first class on your first day of college. The two of you were in the same Introduction to Magical Creatures Studies class. He had sat in the very front row, you just behind him in the second row. When your professor had asked an open question to the class, both you and Renjun eagerly blurted out the answer, Renjun just a millisecond before you. Dr. Li gave him the credit, and also requested that you two raise your hands in the future. And from then on you hated Huang Renjun.

Well, hate may be a strong word. You overlapped in at least two classes every semester being in the same major, and were both chronic overachievers. The first to raise your hands when a question was asked, studying in the library until closing (separately), and visiting professors’ office hours just to discuss topics from class further. Your professors noticed this. Some would pit the two of you against each other, and others would try to pair you up, whether on projects, research, or just in general, as a meeting of the minds or whatever. And you two would get your project done, pocket your As, and part ways again. Academic rival slash frenemy was the best way you could describe who Huang Renjun was to you.

“Who knows, you might still, if they ask me to carry the banner,” he muttered, picking his pen up and spinning it between his fingers.

This was your last semester, both you and Renjun were graduating in just a few months. At commencement, each department picked one “outstanding student” to lead the progression, carrying a flag with the department’s name and seal on it. This semester it was Magical Creatures Studies’ turn to select a student for the College of Humanities and Social Sciences, and your program head had already heavily implied that they could choose either you or Renjun, but they hadn’t made their final decision yet.

This was actually a pretty good segue into what you were really here to talk to him about. Pulling your lips into an alluring smirk, you nodded, “You’re right. It doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out that—”

“A fucking what?” He cut you off, his face scrunching up as he blinked at you in confusion.

“Obviously it’s going to be one of us two, since we’re the two best students in the program.”

“Well, yes.” He nodded, seeming to let go of what had presumably been another one of your jumbled human malaphors. You admittedly hadn’t been living among humans for terribly long, and for some reason their idioms just didn’t stick in your brain very well.

“I mean, we not only are dedicated to the field itself and the content we study in class, but the program too. We probably know everybody in it, professors and students, right? Between the two of us?”

Renjun considered this for a moment. “Yeah, probably. We’ve both taken on a lot of SI and tutor opportunities for lower-level classes.”

“Right. So, you know those forums the school has on the online class platform? The general message boards?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I’m going to need you to sit tight with me on this until I finish talking, okay?” You pointed at him sternly. He nodded slowly. “Good. Back in the fall, about the end of September, I was on the message boards, just browsing around killing time. I was in the Tips & Advice section and saw this post. It was a gryphon who was losing feathers on one specific spot on her wing, and she didn’t know why. The witch she went to didn’t know why, nobody could figure it out. I was about to reply asking if it was her left or right, when I saw that somebody else already had. It was her left, and she’s a lefty. The same person replied again, asking if she sleeps with her wings out or not. She sleeps with them out. It turns out she was stress-preening in her sleep. Username: dr_magic2303. A couple weeks later, same message board, Tips & Advice, a human is suddenly producing dark purple goop from his feet but it’s so slippery he can’t even leave to go see a doctor or a witch and he was typing the post from his bathroom. Within an hour, this Dr. Magic is back telling him someone’s put an aether ooze hex on him, and to sit down and scoot on his butt to the kitchen and gather up all these ingredients for a cleansing foot bath. And if he doesn’t have them, then he’ll have to butt-scoot his way to an apothecary or call one who does home deliveries. Now people are posting on there specifically asking Dr. Magic to come heal all their magical aches and pains.”

Renjun stared at you, unblinking. The pen had gone still in his hand.

You breathed in, continuing, “I tracked this Dr. Magic all the way back to their first post in the first week of fall semester of this year. Now, I’ve been trying to figure out who they are on my own, and I’ve made a lot of progress on who they aren’t. But I’m going to lose access to those message boards once we graduate at the end of the semester. I know Dr. Magic has to be an MCS major, there’s no way they would be able to have to breadth, depth, and flexibility of knowledge by just Googling this stuff. And you and me, Renjun, I know we can do this. Not only do we know MCS, but we know the department, the people in it. It has to be us.”

He was still staring at you, mouth slightly agape. Then, his whole demeanor shifted. He dropped his leg so that both his feet were on the ground, and he resumed spinning the pen.

“Okay. I’ll help you.” He nodded thoughtfully. “If you’ll do something for me.”

“Do what?” You straightened up.

“I’ll tell you after we find Dr. Magic.”

You crossed your arms. “No, tell me now or no deal.”

“I tell you after, but you can still say no then if you don’t want to do it.” He bargained.

“That just sounds even more concerning, Renjun. Tell me now or I’ll do it myself.”

“I’m hurt. What happened to ‘it has to be us?’”

“I’m a siren, I know how to sweet talk. Don’t take it personally.” You snorted. “Now, what do you want from me?”

“You’re a siren,” he echoed plainly, as if that were all the explanation you needed.

“And you’re a genius.” You retorted. “Tell me now or I walk out.”

“I... want to experience siren venom. For science.”

Oh, you could kiss him right now, no deal necessary. He was meeting your gaze head-on, a slightly unhinged glint in his eye. Not a hint of fear, just a craving for new experiences, unbridled curiosity. Yeah, he was a bit crazy, you were realizing four years on, and you wanted him.

“You’re insane.”

He leaned back in his seat, putting his hands up in front of him in an ‘I-don’t-care’ gesture, “If you don’t want to find Dr. Magic—”

“I didn’t say no, I said you’re insane,” you corrected him with a grin, dragging your eyes up and down his form as he sat so confidently, negotiating with a siren like it was any average Tuesday for him.

“So do we have a deal?” He set his pen down and held a hand out to you.

“You help me find Dr. Magic, then I’ll spit in your mouth.” You momentarily thought about the disparity in division of labor on that, but decided not to point it out aloud. Easiest handshake of your life. “Deal.”

You wanted to eat him alive.

“You’ve tried IP tracking?” Renjun asked, scrolling through your word document of notes that you’d accumulated on Dr. Magic.

“‘You’ve tried IP tracking?’” You mimicked him under your breath, making your voice so high-pitched to the point of mocking.

He rolled his eyes.

This was your first meet-up to try to hunt down Dr. Magic together. It was a couple weeks after he had agreed to help you in the first place. There was a test and some assignments in a few of your classes to get through first before either of you had enough spare time to dedicate to this. But now the two of you were back in the library, having taken a study room on the second floor and set up with your own laptops. You’d sent him your notes to look through on it while you perused the message board for any new posts from Dr. Magic.

“You do know that any geographical location an IP address can give you will just be the city, right? It’s not like the movies,” you snorted, dropping your voice back down to your normal intonation as you shook your head. “Anyway, I did do some extra legwork with the IPs, and matched most of them to desktop computers here in the library. I think the others are a personal device, their laptop or something.”

“They’re all different.”

You tutted at him, “Oh, you sweet Thursday’s child…”

“That’s not the say—”

“They’re all somehow on other continents. Now, I don’t think Dr. Magic teleporting abroad and cross-dimensionally to make forum posts.”

“VPN?”

“Definitely. They’re covering their tracks, they almost never use their own device, and when they have to, they use a VPN to cover up the IP address of it.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement, eyes still focused on his screen.

Then, something on the forum caught your eye. “Oh! Right here. Thirty-six minutes ago, a dryad posted that she can’t sprout daffodils from her body anymore. Every other plant and flower are fine, except daffodils. She posted it specifically asking Dr. Magic if they know what’s wrong with her.”

“Huh.” Renjun’s brow furrowed. “Just daffodils?”

“That’s what it says,” you confirmed, making a few clicks on your computer. “And… ‘notify me.’”

“You can turn on notifications for forum posts?”

“You can’t,” you informed him smugly. “But one of the sirens in my pod, he’s got a bunch of CompSci friends who I paid to write a browser extension for me that bookmarks forum posts and sends me email notifications when anybody replies to them. So I’ll know exactly when Dr. Magic responds.”

“You…”

“Have definitely spent too much time, energy, and money on this, I know. Sunken cost fallacy, look it up.”

“I was going to say ‘are insane,’” he breathed out, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief.

When you looked up from your computer at him, you saw that he had a curious gaze fixated on you, eyes narrowed slightly, mouth parted, and head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

You leaned forward minutely, holding his eye contact. “Takes one to know one, Junnie.”

He looked down at his keyboard, shifting in his seat before he looked back up at you. “Why are you calling me that?”

“Do you not like it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So you do like it.” You smirked.

He frowned. “I didn’t say that either.”

“Well do you?”

“Answer my question.”

“Answer mine.”

“I asked first.”

“Ooh, how very primary school,” you teased, setting your chin in your hand.

“It’s only fair.” He pointed out.

“We could flip a coin.”

“Y/N.”

“Junnie.”

The human sighed, holding your eye contact wordlessly, looking entirely unamused.

You finally gave in with a casual shrug. “I just am.”

“Seriously? We’ve known each other for four years and you’ve never called me that—you’ve called me plenty of other things—but now suddenly you’ve got a nickname for me?”

“I’m not trying to be derogatory with it, if you’re worried about that,” you clarified. “Just sort of happened. I’m a siren, I flirt with cute people, sorry. Do you want me to stop calling you that?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing some off his face as he turned his focus back down to his screen. “It’s fine.”

“Anyway, I bookmarked the new forum post, so it’ll go on the board.”

“The board?”

“I, uh, I may be using a spare wall in my apartment to host a conspiracy theory board with you know, the red string and thumbtacks and stuff…” You admitted quietly.

“Can I see it?”

“Ho-ly shit,” Renjun breathed out, staring up at the multiple time-stamped printouts of forum posts, pictures of classmates and faculty, sticky notes, and yards of red string that you had pinned to a blank wall in your apartment.

You stood next to him, gazing up at your creation with a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment. This was the first time you’d let someone see this, and you were kind of glad it was Renjun. He actually seemed impressed. You were sure that any of your friends and family would be weirded out at best, and very concerned at worst.

“Yeah, I’m adding color copies off the school printers to the invoice I’m sending Dr. Magic at the end of all this.”

“You’re sending them an invoice for your self-assigned mission to hunt them down?” He snorted.

“Yup. It’s their fault for not using their school-issued login.” You crossed your arms. “Makes them enigmatic.”

Your classmate pointed to one of the headshots. “Is that Dr. Li?”

“Did you think our scope was narrowed to just students? Faculty have access to the message boards, too. And we’ve learned everything we know from our professors, so they obviously have the knowledge and skill to be Dr. Magic.”

“And their names also start with Doctor.” He added dryly, which you took to be a joke.

You decided that it wasn’t at your expense, though, and after giving a short chuckle, continued on with your explanation of why you specifically had your program head up on the board. “When I was grilling Dr. Li for information in the fall, he was giving me very duplicitous answers. Pointed me towards a freshman who I swear didn’t even know the difference between Arctic sirens and glacial sirens.”

“You think it was a diversion.”

“Obviously.”

Renjun tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What sort of questions were you asking him?”

“I couldn’t straight up ask him if he was Dr. Magic. So I was asking him things like... other than you and me, who did he think was the best student in the program, that kind of stuff. Said that kid reminded him of you and me on that first day of Intro to MCS.” You couldn’t help but let out an indignant scoff at the idea. “Can you believe? Didn’t know the difference between Arctic and glacial sirens…”

“Who was it?”

“Some basilisk in one of his Intro classes last semester. Uh…” You snapped your fingers as you tried to remember his name. “Seunghan! Hong Seunghan!”

“Seriously?” The human turned to look at you incredulously, clearly offended at the comparison as well.

“Seriously!”

He clutched at his chest like he was about to have a heart attack. “That’s who he thinks is the next us? I was an SI for that class…”

“I know! He’s not the brightest tool in the shed, huh?”

“So close, Y/N. So close…” He sighed.

“It almost completely threw me off my search for Dr. Magic. I figured I needed to seriously step up my game in his undergrad research or something.” You shook your head at the horrible memory. “Then I realized he might have been trying to get me to do exactly that.”

“Huh.” Renjun folded his arms over his chest as he looked away, pretending not to seem interested. “You did research with Dr. Li last semester?”

“Don’t give me those kicked puppy dog eyes, you’re doing research with Dr. Kwon this semester and she’s like, my academic idol!” You pointed at him accusatorily.

“And Dr. Li is mine!”

You waved your arms in front of you, shaking yourself out of the academic envy-induced frenzy you’d gotten worked up into. “We’re getting off-topic. We’re here to catch Dr. Magic, remember?”

“Right…” He took a deep breath, turning back to the conspiracy wall.

As Renjun studied your work, you studied him. You had a strand of fairy lights clipped up above the conspiracy wall for light and ambiance (mostly ambiance), and they now lit his features from the front. He didn’t have a baseball cap on today, leaving his brown hair to fall over his forehead, down past his eyebrows and just into his eyes. He blinked and shook his head slightly. A piece had presumably been bothering him. The curving slope of the bridge of his nose, his lips, his chin that he still had one hand propped up to hold, a finger tapping against his cupid’s bow like a metronome. You listened closer, curious if it would be mimicking the beat of his heart. The tapping was just slightly slower than his heart, and would stop if he found something that he took particular interest in, then start back up when he moved on again.

Not that you were going to tell him, but you were double motivated to find Dr. Magic now. Seeing Renjun under your venom was going to be a reward all on its own. You understood full well why he felt like he needed to ask you as part of an exchange like this, but he seemed to greatly underestimate his own selling value. Which was good for you. This was a win-win-win in your eyes.

Thinking of the deal made you curious, though. He had that request ready to go almost like…

“So, do you want to be petrified by a basilisk, too?”

Renjun didn’t take his eyes off the wall. “Already have been.”

“Really?”

“My friend Mark is a basilisk. When he had just gotten his powers a couple years ago and couldn’t control them, he kept accidentally petrifying his human roommate. So I figured out when it was most likely to happen, invited myself over and hid his sunglasses. It was strange, being able to think but not speak, see but not blink, and telling my muscles to move and not having them obey.” He casually detailed what sounded like one of the most horrifying experiences ever to you, leaning in towards a specific post from November. “But it only lasted one minute and twenty-nine seconds.”

You stared at him with both admiration and alarm. “You manufactured an opportunity to get petrified.”

“I knew he wouldn’t do it if I asked. He’s a wimp. That, and he couldn’t do it on command at the time, even if he did agree.”

“Have you had your blood drank?”

“Yup.”

“Been flying?”

“How so?” His eyes flicked over to you for a second, and you were glad that you had relaxed again with the more casual conversation.

“With a gryphon, phoenix, take your pick.” You shrugged.

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you have a list for this stuff or something?”

“Written down, no. But I suppose I have a mental list.”

“Poisoned by a wyvern?”

“Would have to find one first.”

You felt your eyes bug out of your head. “You want to be poisoned by a wyvern? You know there’s no cure for that, right?”

“Yes, I took the same class that you did on them last spring.” He reminded you tersely. Your head jerked back minutely, surprised for a second that he had noticed, remembered, and brought it up. The two of you didn’t have a spat in that class, taking an ‘ignore and pretend the other doesn’t exist’ approach that semester when you could, and hadn’t mentioned it since. Seeming to realize what he’d done, Renjun rushed to move on, “So I also know that there’s no cure because they went extinct hundreds of years ago.”

“Supposedly.”

“You think they’re still out there?”

“Maybe.”

“Hm.” He stepped to the side to read over the next post from the first week of December.

You scoffed. “Okay, coming from the guy who believes in aliens.”

“We haven’t explored all of space. But we know what habitats wyverns lived in, and they’re not there anymore.”

“They could’ve adapted, gone somewhere else,” you tried to argue. “I’m not exactly splashing around the ocean right now, am I?”

“Where did they go, then?”

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted, holding yourself by your arms protectively.

“Hmph.”

You tightened your grip, swallowing hard against the lump threatening to grow in your throat. “I just don’t want to believe they’re gone, okay?”

“So this isn’t a scientific hypothesis, but some rosy daydream?” Renjun’s disapproval of the lack of academic rigor in your argument was clear in his tone as his eyes never left your wall, following a red string up to your next connection for Dr. Magic.

“I don’t want to believe that wyverns went extinct because that means that sirens could too! Alright?” You finally snapped, hands squeezing tightly around your biceps as your claws came out with the raw burst of emotion. “I know that Magical Conservation was just some class to you, but I had to sit there and take notes on how exactly the native habitats of sirens—me, my friends, my family—are shrinking, and could theoretically lead to our extinction, and then write a discussion post on it after like it was some intellectually stimulating bit of information. So yeah, maybe I like to imagine that there’s still wyverns out there somewhere, because it gives me a modicum of hope that after everything, there could still be sirens, too. Sorry that that’s not academic enough.”

The image of Renjun that you had been yelling at in front of you was wavering as tears swam in your vision. He’d turned around to listen, mouth parting as he seemed to immediately realize his mistake. The human nodded regretfully, running a hand through his hair before finally picking his words.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to be so dismissive. I-I misread the tone of the discussion. Sirens aren’t wyverns, and you won’t meet the same fate they might have. Siren advocacy and conservation groups are making huge progress. The world now is a lot different than it was hundreds of years ago,” Renjun said, and you could hear both the remorse and firm belief in his tone. “And who knows, maybe there are still some wyverns out there. I could be wrong... it’s been known to happen before.”

You took a deep breath, your claws receding back into your fingers and just leaving your normal fingernails. As you looked down at your arms, though, you let out a sigh.

“Damn, I got myself.” You clicked your tongue in your throat regretfully, spotting a few drops of what looked like molten silver metal welling to the surface where you’d punctured your skin.

“Ooh,” Renjun winced sympathetically. “Do you have some… bandages?”

“Even better, I’ve got running water.” You started towards the door, then noted that there were no footsteps behind you. Turning back around, you looked at the human knowingly. “Do you want to watch, Renjun?”

He perked up. “Please?”

“Come on,” you jerked your head, holding your arms level as you shuffled towards your kitchen.

Thankfully, you hadn’t been nearly deep enough to get your scales, just the skin overtop. Turning the kitchen faucet on, you grabbed one of your sleeves, then looked at your classmate imploringly.

“A little help, Junnie?” You nodded towards your other arm, where the end of your sleeve was getting close to your blood.

“Oh, sure.” He surged forward to help you roll up the other one.

“I know you know this but be careful not to touch my blood,” you reminded him, finally pulling up the sleeve you’d started on well enough. Siren blood was a neurotoxin to humans—and not the fun kind like your venom, but a proper ‘kill you in an excruciatingly painful way’ kind.

“Uh-huh, got it.”

A couple drops on your left and a drop on your right had run down to your elbows, and you just managed to catch yourself so that they dripped into the sink and not onto your counter (or gods forbid, Renjun). Looking over to make sure he was watching, you stuck your left bicep under the stream of water first. The ocean blue scales that peeked through your skin shimmered in the kitchen lights directly above your head. Thankfully you hadn’t come anywhere close to nicking one of those. That would’ve actually hurt. Within a second of touching the water your skin had meshed itself back together. You turned your arm to rinse off the blood, then brought it back out to show that there was no scar left. Doing the same with the other, it healed just as quick, no mark left behind to indicate that anything had ever happened.

“Yep…” Renjun breathed out as you grabbed a hand towel and went to dry off your arms. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”

“How many does that make?” You giggled.

“What?”

“How many creatures have you seen magically heal themselves? What number am I?”

“You make me sound so…”

“Like a common MCS whore?”

“I was going to say clinical, but damn, tell me how you really feel, Y/N.”

Both of you laughed, and you put the hand towel back.

“You’re the first siren,” Renjun answered your question genuinely anyway.

You hummed as you mulled this over. “I’ll take it.”

He made a dramatic motion of wiping sweat off his forehead, and you reached forward to smack his forearm. You two laughed again.

After a bout of comfortable silence, your eyes settled on him again, still thinking about exactly how you’d accidentally stabbed yourself in the first place.

“I forgive you, by the way,” you said. “I don’t think I said that.”

“You didn’t.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

“You really mean all that? You think I’ll—we’ll be okay? Sirens?”

“Of course I mean it. Or I wouldn’t have said it. It’s the most scientifically plausible. I did take that Magical Conservation class seriously, you know. I know it couldn’t have meant the same thing for me as it means to you, but I did my final paper on siren conservation projects in the Arctic. The progress that’s being made there is incredible. I-I don’t want to tell you about your own species’ problems, obviously, but—”

“I did mine on siren conservation in the tropics.” You let out a dry chuckle at the flawless symbiosis. “You can tell me about your paper sometime, Renjun.”

“And I’d love to hear about siren conservation in the tropics.”

“Ah, ‘a meeting of the minds.’” You did your best impression of Dr. Li, thinning your voice out to sound like an elderly man, which garnered a smile from Renjun. “Isn’t this what our professors always wanted?”

“Uh-oh. We’re giving them exactly what they want.” He shook his head ruefully. “Quick, you need to start yelling at me about something.”

“Well you need to say something obnoxious first.”

Another gentle lull in the conversation, and you watched as Renjun looked around your apartment a lot more carefully than when you two had first entered. Your destination then had been solely the conspiracy wall, but now he seemed to be really taking it in.

“So why don’t you have like… a fish tank or something?” He asked.

“Because that would be cruel! Imagine if someone kept you in a 2-foot by 2-foot box!” You jabbed a finger into his chest accusatorily.

He held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. That was a stupid question.”

“I’m glad you said it, because I was about to.”

“So why don’t you reply? To the posts.” Renjun asked curiously, back to trolling the message boards for new Dr. Magic posts. You two were holed up in your second floor study room again. “You’ve been tracking Dr. Magic so closely, you’re getting to these posts before they do, and you can help all these students, too. So why don’t you just reply instead?”

Yours and Renjun’s search for Dr. Magic had been going on for a month now, and he’d been proving himself useful. He’d finally convinced you to rule out Dr. Li as a suspect when he found a message board post made from a school computer while Dr. Li was away at a conference giving a presentation. Confirmed to be done at the exact same time. So you’d found another wrong person, but you still didn’t feel any closer to the right person. The remaining people felt like they were going to turn out to be dead ends, and there was nobody good to rule in either.

Spring break was coming up in a few weeks, which meant that commencement preparations would be starting, which meant that the colleges would be announcing who would be chosen to carry their banners, which meant the actual students who were going to be chosen would be told at least a week or two ahead of time. Every time you thought about that you wanted to bite something. Maybe there was some ancestral link between sirens and werewolves. Another paper waiting to be written.

“They don’t want me. They want Dr. Magic.” You told Renjun, hating the irritable edge in your voice when you addressed him. You weren’t upset with him, you were just anxious in general. He didn’t deserve to have you take it out on him.

“Right. Sorry…”

“No, Renjun, I’m sorry,” you sighed, taking the wood pencil out of your mouth that you had been gnawing on. “I just want to get this Dr. Magic stuff over with before midterms because you and I are both going to get super busy studying for midterms, and then no matter which one of us gets picked to carry the banner, that’s going to suck up a lot of time preparing for commencement too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you though, sorry.”

He offered you a small smile. “It’s okay, I get it. It’s another deadline. But it’s a group project, remember? We’ve got this, Y/N.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. Just feeling the pressure. I’m going to get something from the vending machine. You coming?”

“No, I’ll keep chugging along.”

“Okay. You want anything?”

“Nah. Thanks, though.”

“Alright,” you nodded, standing up and rolling your neck out. “I’m going to stretch my legs while I’m up, so I’ll be a few.”

“I won’t sound the alarm then.” He gave you a two-fingered salute as you headed to the door.

You meandered around the second floor, taking your sweet time to get to the stairs. There was a vending machine on the second floor, but it had a limited selection. The good snacks were all in the vending machines on the first floor, by the collaboration zones. Your back cracked all on its own as you plodded down the steps, and you let quiet groans with each one, until you finally landed on the first floor. There was a noticeable hum to the first floor, which only increased as you neared the two-thirds of the floor that was taken up by the collaboration zones. The vending machines were on the boundary of the bookshelves and the open spaces filled with tables and TV monitors and so many students.

Stopping in front of the drinks machine first, you mused over the options for a moment. Picking out your preferred seaweed-infused iced tea—an option you only saw sirens and the really hardcore human health-nuts drink—you then sidestepped to the snacks. It took you just a second to select a pack of mini peanut butter sandwich cookies. Neither peanut butter nor peanuts themselves were in the regular diet of a siren, but Renjun sometimes had the cookies on him for one of his werewolf friends and you’d picked up a taste for them. You would’ve never considered even trying them before hanging out with Renjun. Being an MCS major, you didn’t like to admit it, but your social circle wasn’t very diverse species-wise. You had your siren pod, and you were very happy sticking with them, thank you. Renjun, meanwhile, seemed to be best friends or friendly acquaintances with everything except a wyvern. You knew plenty about other species, after all, you excelled in class. But practical experience, you were finding you seemed to be lacking in. Maybe you should start your own Renjun-esque bucket list. Something to consider after finding Dr. Magic.

Taking a step back over to the drinks machine, you made the split-second decision to get Renjun’s favorite non-caffeinated, non-alcoholic drink. Honeydew melon soda. He had already said that you didn’t need to get him anything, but you wanted to.

“Hey, Y/N!” A cheerful voice greeted you, and you spun around, your two drinks and bag of sandwich cookies in hand.

You already knew who it was going to be, smiling at the familiar face of Ten. He was not only another siren, but specifically a siren from your pod, ocean blue scales and golden eyes matching your own. You threw your arms around his neck to give him a hug. “Ten! Ah, hey!”

“Are those… peanut butter?” He looked at the snack in your hand suspiciously.

“Uh, human study buddy,” you brushed off his concerns nonchalantly.

“Right, gotcha.”

The two of you usually hung out a lot—about as much as you and Renjun were together now, you figured—but since your spare time had been taken up with putting the search for Dr. Magic on full throttle, you were blanking on the last time you’d seen him. The beginning of the semester. Oh shit, you felt so guilty now.

The apology immediately started spilling out of your mouth, “Gods, I am so sorry we haven’t hung out, I wish I could say it was classes, or even research or something, but I’ve got this project. I can’t even really explain it without sounding crazy but—”

“Woah, Y/N, it’s okay,” Ten reassured you with a laugh, the same bright smile on his face as always. “I know how you get when you get really into one of your projects. Just let me know when you’ve finished it, and we can hang. Or if you ever need a break from it, too. It’s fine. If you weren’t a little crazy and obsessive, I wouldn’t be able to recognize you.”

He ruffled your hair with a snicker for good measure, and with your hands full of food, you couldn’t fight back, just huff and try to duck out of the way. But he was genuine about his sentiments, which really did make you feel better.

“Thanks, Ten. I’ll get in touch soon, I promise. I think I’m almost done!” You told him proudly.

“Soon in normal person time or soon in Y/N time?”

“Me time…”

“That’s what I thought. I’ll see you in six months then.”

“I’m not that bad!”

“Remember when I wondered aloud if sirens at the North and South poles were related, and you ended up spending our entire winter break researching that?”

“It only took four weeks!”

“You said it would be a quick search.”

“Exactly! People will dedicate their entire lives to that kind of research! I vastly condensed it!”

He shook his head fondly at the memory, elbowing you gently. “Get back to your project so you can finish early again and we can hang out soon, okay? And scoot, I’m trying to use the vending machine. You’re always in my way, I swear.”

You playfully pretended to block him, laughing as he nudged you out of the way with his shoulder. Starting back off towards the stairs, you turned around to give a cheery, “See you, Ten!”

“Bye, Y/N!” He waved to you with one hand, punching in the vending machine code with the other.

In better spirits having seen your friend, you traipsed up the stairs with extra pep in your step. Except Renjun wasn’t in your study room. Huh. Well, nothing in the rules saying a guy can’t take a bathroom break.

Setting his melon soda down next to his laptop, you plopped back down in your chair and kicked your feet up on the table. You ripped open your peanut butter sandwich cookies and cracked open your tea. The cookies were sweet, and while you didn’t have any oceanic reference for what peanut butter tasted like (you were told that “nutty” was a flavor profile unto itself, which wasn’t very helpful), you had decided that you liked it.

Waking your laptop back up, you saw that you had a new email, and shot up in your seat when you saw the subject.

dr_magic2303 replied to a post.

8 minutes ago.

Holy fucking shit, 8 minutes ago. While you were in the library? They could still be there. You looked around frantically. Where the fuck was Renjun when you needed him? Shooting to your feet, you snatched your phone from the table and rushed to throw the door open. Into Renjun’s face.

He stumbled back, holding his face as he let out a string of curses.

“Shit! Sorry, Junnie!” You didn’t sound all too sorry as you bounced on your feet, antsy to get a move on with your search. “No time for an ice pack though. Dr. Magic just replied to that dragon post we had bookmarked eight minutes ago. Which means that they’re probably still in the library! We need to go look for them right now!”

You took off in the direction of the desktop computers on this floor, keeping your voice at a fervent whisper-yell. The second floor computers were their favorite, according to the IPs.

“I know!” Renjun hurried after you, still clutching his nose. “I saw the email, and I tried to call you, but you left your phone in the study room.”

Checking your phone, you did in fact have a missed call from Renjun from 6 minutes ago. Well shit.

“So I went to go get you, but you weren’t at the vending machines, so I came back up to the study room and then nearly got my nose broken.”

You looked over your shoulder at him with wide eyes. “You went to get me? Not look for Dr. Magic on the freshest lead we’ve ever had? When they were quite possibly around the corner?”

The two of you had arrived at the desktops, and there was nobody in sight. One was awake, on the account login screen, the other two asleep on the ancient screensavers. You let out a heavy sigh, looking over at Renjun.

“I went to get you because this is your thing, not mine. I don’t know, I’d figured you’d want the satisfaction of taking the mask off them.”

You nodded. “Thanks, Junnie. Next time, though, just get them.”

“And how about you keep your phone on you?”

“So we both fucked it up.”

He gave you a one-shouldered shrug. “There’s still three more floors, Y/N.”

“Right, come on. You take the first, I’ll go up to the fourth since I smacked you with the door.”

The other floors were busts, and when you finally met back up with Renjun in your study room, you were glad to have your cold bottle of tea waiting for you. Knocking back a third of it in one go, you let out a noise of relief. Renjun had already opened the soda you’d gotten him.

“Thanks, by the way.” He held it up gratefully before taking a sip.

“You’re welcome.”

“And, I’m sorry. That I let Dr. Magic get away.”

“We don’t even know what floor they were posting from yet. They’ve could’ve been on the fourth floor and would’ve been gone by the time you got there anyway.” You brushed away his apologies. “Or they could’ve been on the second and been a psycho and you would’ve been a poor defenseless human all by yourself.”

“Oh, right, without my big strong siren to protect me.” He scoffed. “Woe is me.”

“Exactly,” you laughed, shutting your laptop. “Anyway, I’ll take a look at the IP later. Who knows, they might not have even been in the library. Might’ve been one of those rogue VPN posts.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He looked over you packing up your things. “You heading out?”

You nodded, zipping up your bag and tossing it onto your shoulder. “Prior arrangements. Sorry to cut this short, completely forgot about it when we agreed to meet up.”

“You’re so popular.”

“I know!” You mimicked his sarcastic tone, holding the door open with your foot as you stopped in the threshold. “Oh, hey— the midterm in MCS Linguistics. It’s my only one this semester, I’ve just got papers in all my other classes. Do you want to study together for that?”

“Yeah, sure, sure.”

“First session Saturday? My place for lunch?”

Renjun grimaced, presumably remembering your typical stock of pantry items tailored to a siren’s food preference. “I’ll pack a lunch.”

“Cool. See you in class, Junnie!” You waved to him cheerily as you took off for the faculty advisor meeting with Dr. Kwon that you were going to need to run across campus to be on time for.

“What is it?” Renjun set his book down where he was sat across your coffee table from you, an inquisitive eyebrow quirked up at you.

“What? Nothing.” You bit down on your lip, eyes boring holes into your computer screen.

“No, it’s not ‘nothing.’ You’ve been staring at me ever since I got here, while also refusing to make eye contact with me. What? Something in my teeth? My hair look bad?”

Normally that would’ve made you chuckle—he was wearing a backwards baseball cap again today—but you just bit down harder on your lip and shook your head.

“Now you’re refusing to talk?” He scoffed. “Did you get hexed or something? I can’t believe you’re refusing to talk.”

“No, I can talk,” you insisted. “What uh, what’d you get for number four? On the review packet?”

“Don’t tell me you’re still stuck on number four. Y/N, I’m almost done, and there’s twenty-five questions on this.”

“I’m not, I finished and went back, it was just one that I didn’t—”

But Renjun had grabbed your computer and turned the screen around, and you knew he could see that you had only done the first one. You buried your face in your hands, your skin prickling uncomfortably with shame. Your friend’s sigh was audible, but surprisingly, the next thing said wasn’t a string of derision. Instead, you heard the shuffle of clothes against your rug, and then he was sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and knee-to-knee with you.

“Y/N, what’s going on with you today? Or, not today, the past couple days? You weren’t all there in class yesterday either. I left it alone then because it was Dr. Hyun, and nobody is ever all there for her classes but— what’s wrong?”

You slowly shook your head.

“You can’t tell me?”

You nodded.

“Okay. Is it bad? Like, dangerous?”

You shook your head.

“Alright, that’s good.” The relief was audible in his voice. “Is it family? Or, pod?”

You shook your head.

“School?”

You nodded.

“Alright, yeah. A lot going on. Is it like burn out?”

You shook your head.

“So, new stuff?”

You nodded.

He put an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you already had a lot. Getting this midterm over with will be one more thing off your checklist, right? That’ll open a spot for this new thing.”

With a sniffle, you nodded.

“Ah, but you’re not going to be any good studying like this.” He sighed again, dropping his arm from around your shoulders and his presence shifted away from your side. “Come on, quick field trip. Then we’ll come right back to the MCS Linguistics grind. Sound good?”

You finally took your hands from your face to look up. Renjun was standing right next to you, offering you a hand. You tentatively put yours in his, and he tightened his grip to pull you up to your feet.

The two of you ended up in a froyo shop down the street from your apartment. You gleefully picked a gummy shark off the top of your swirl, biting the head off first before tossing the rest in your mouth. Renjun lifted a meticulously curated spoonful of froyo and toppings to his mouth, satisfaction on his face as he tasted his perfect bite. You watched in amusement as he went to start creating his next scoop that had the precise ratio of yogurt and every single topping he had chosen—each partitioned to their own area atop the froyo. You decided to save your second big gummy shark for last, and took a big spoonful from the melting edge of your froyo.

“Why not me?” Renjun asked abruptly, his gaze still on the dessert in front of him.

“Huh?” Your jaw dropped. How could he have known what—

“You haven’t asked me if I’m Dr. Magic. Why not?”

Ah, Dr. Magic. Of course.

“You were my first guess, and the first person I ruled out back in like September,” you admitted with a shrug.

His head snapped up at that. “What? Why?”

“Because you’re such an arrogant, neurotic overachiever that you’d want credit if you did all this. You wouldn’t use an alias.”

“Oh. Huh.” Renjun looked between you and his froyo, a sheepish smile coming to his face. “Strangely, that makes me feel better.”

You watched a dollop of froyo fall off your spoon and plop back into your cup. “And I nabbed your IP address off your laptop the first time we hung out in January and double-checked it with every Dr. Magic post. Just in case.”

“When I was in the bathroom?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Of course you did.”

“Were you taking it as an insult to your intelligence that I had apparently not considered you as an option?”

“Maybe…”

You laughed, and laughed, and laughed. You laughed so hard your sides hurt, there were tears in your eyes, and you genuinely started wheezing. Renjun pretended to roll his eyes, but you saw the smile on his face and knew what he was thinking: success, no more mopey siren.

Once you had enough air back in your lungs to talk, you pointed your spoon at him firmly. “See? Just proving my point. You want people to know you’re smart.”

He crossed his arms. “As if you don’t.”

“Oh, I definitely do. But I know I’m like that.” You put a hand over your chest, looking him dead in the eye. “Do you?”

With your head screwed back on the normal amount, you and Renjun were able to dive back into your study session at your apartment. Several hours into it, though, you noticed Renjun blinking like way too much and constantly rubbing at his eyes. It was to the point where it was distracting for you.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” You asked bluntly.

That immediately burst the Renjun griping dam (which was really held together with tape and prayers anyway). “The screens hurt my eyes and human blue light glasses don’t do shit and no fairy has let me try theirs out. I know I should probably just take the plunge and buy them but I really can’t justify the price and—”

“Try mine.” You stood up, walking over to a display shelf on the other side of the living room.

“You have a pair? Why? Sirens don’t—”

“You collect magical experiences. I collect magical things.” You said nonchalantly, grabbing the pair of silver frames from where they sat between a phoenix feather (a gift) and a small wristwatch that would tell the correct time until it was put on, then it would be set on the time and date most significant to the wearer in that moment until it was removed. Walking back over to him, you held them out to him insistently, “Here, try them.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Renjun gingerly took them, sliding the arms over his ears and the frames onto the bridge of his nose. The pair you had was a little older, admittedly. You’d picked them up at a novelty shop, so they had some retro charm to them. An older style of frame, thicker lenses. But you thought it added a quaintness to their look. Especially on Renjun, he just looked downright adorable in them.

You sat back down to watch with your head in your hand as his brown eyes blinked from behind the thick lenses, and he looked around your living room like a newborn woodland animal. His face had already relaxed, and he turned his focus down to his laptop screen next, messing with the brightness up, then down. After that, he took out his phone, doing the same with that device.

“Well?” You prompted him, though you truly would’ve been content with watching him look around as if he’d been born colorblind and it were his first time seeing in color. Which, you had an enchanted pair for that too, but he wasn’t colorblind to your knowledge.

The human looked at you, a giddy smile stretching across his face. “They’re perfect! Thanks, Y/N!”

His hand reached up to take them off, but you stopped him.

“Keep them—”

“No, these had to be so expensive!” He protested immediately.

“Just for a week or so,” you finished your sentence pointedly. He was cute, but not that cute. “Make sure you really like them before you buy, okay? If you end up hating them, give them back. If you like them and buy your own pair, you can give them back whenever yours arrive in the mail.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not like I’m using them. Superior siren eyesight.” You tapped next to one of your eyes for emphasis.

“Thanks for not rubbing it in or anything.”

Scrambling to dial Renjun’s number, you put your phone on speaker as you fervently flicked through all of your Dr. Magic notes. You’d been laying in bed binging some mindless baking competition to numb your brain from all the studying you’d been doing when an email notification had popped up alerting you to a new Dr. Magic post.

“Y/N?” Renjun answered the phone, sounding utterly confused. “What’s—”

“New Dr. Magic post. I ran the IP and they’re in our city!” You blurted out.

“Okay… Well we already knew that, right?”

“Yeah, but this is an IP in our city that they posted from at midnight on a Saturday. Not any of the school computers.” You hit CTRL + F, typing in the string of numbers to quickly cross reference it with your extensive list. “This could be their IP. Like, their actual one, from a personal computer.”

“Oh, yeah. Could be.”

“Can you give me a little more enthusiasm here, Junnie? Did I wake you up or something? It’s only—” You stopped like you’d just walked face-first into a brick wall, eyes locked on the search result.

“Yeah, only quarter after midnight,” he scoffed.

You clicked the next arrow on the search bar, but that was the only match. 1/1 results.

“Y/N?” Renjun called for your attention. “You there?”

You hung up.

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you pressed the doorbell over and over insistently. You could hear the complaining tone of the occupant before his words were even audible.

“Christ, I have neighbors, you know?” Renjun swung open the door with a scowl. The human was in a big, slouching hoodie and pajama pants. His hair was stuck up in a couple different directions, making you think he might’ve just woken up. Except behind him, you could see that his kitchen light was on, and a couple books and his laptop were open on his kitchen table. Late night studying. And the fact that you’d just talked to him on the phone fifteen minutes ago.

“Can I come in?” You requested, fidgeting with the sleeve of your cardigan.

His face immediately softened. “Yeah, of course.”

“Sorry to just show up like this,” you said as you took off your shoes by the front door before following him further into his apartment.

“It’s okay.” He stopped you two in the kitchen, picking up a colorful, patterned cardboard box. “Uh, I was just about to make a midnight snack. Pizza bites, you want some?”

“I… don’t think I’ve ever had them.”

“Perfect, you can try one now then.”

“Mm,” you made a non-committal noise, leaning against his kitchen counter to watch him pour out the frozen food onto a baking sheet.

The oven beeped, and he put the tray in before pressing a couple more buttons.

“So, I was thinking about the Dr. Magic stuff. Not the IP stuff but like… What even is your plan for when you do find Dr. Magic?” Renjun asked as he put the remaining pizza bites in his freezer.

“What do you mean?”

He leaned against the countertop across from you, though in the narrow space of his kitchen, you were practically knee-to-knee. “Like, say we finally find out who they are, we run up to them in the library or on campus or something. Then what? What are you going to do? What are you going to say? You’ve done all this, and I know why you had to. I get it. But, do you know what you’re going to say to them?”

“Probably something along the lines of…” You trailed off, giving an exasperated sigh. Dropping your chin to your chest, you groaned, “Gods, I don’t know.”

“Hey, that’s why you got me. So you can bounce ideas off someone, do a dry run.”

“I thought the words would just come to me, and now that I’m trying, I can’t—”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Let’s think about why you did this. I know it’s really hard to put into words. I mean, I know why you did. I get it. It’s that need to know. Not because you can, but because you have to, right? It’s curiosity in its rawest form. So obviously it’s not going to be some schmaltzy ‘haha I caught you’ spiel or anything.”

Looking up from the kitchen tile to Renjun’s eager features, you shook your head in disbelief. “You’re still helping me… when I know it’s you, Junnie.”

He tilted his head to the side, a comical noise of confusion coming from his mouth, “Uh?”

“I know it’s you, and you know that I know that it’s you.”

“You already ruled me out, because I’m an arrogant—”

“Junnie, you made a post on the forums from your laptop. No VPN. When you knew I was still tracking Dr. Magic’s IP on every post they made, and that I had your IP. That’s not a whoopsie that you make unless you want to be caught.”

The human crossed his arms over his chest, but otherwise seemed entirely calm about being caught. “And you didn’t come in here guns blazing now that you’d caught me, either. Why?”

“I didn’t know how to say it. I mean, you’re right, I only did all this because I needed to know.”

“And now you know.”

“Why now? Why just give up now?” You asked with a shake of your head. “You started posting as Dr. Magic back in August, and I came to you in January. You knew everything I was doing; you could have cruised through the rest of the semester and I’d have never caught you.”

“You wanted to find out who it was by midterms. One less thing on your plate.”

“And now I know…”

“So how does it feel? Finally catching Dr. Magic?”

You wrinkled your nose and sighed, “Bit disappointing. I was right on my first guess.”

“And you immediately dismissed me out of hand for being an arrogant, neurotic overachiever on your first guess,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I didn’t really know you then. If I’d known you then like I know you now, I would’ve known as soon as I saw the first post.”

Renjun batted his eyes teasingly. “Aww, Y/N…”

“Doctor underscore magic two, three, zero, three? Twenty-three, oh-three? That’s your birthday, Junnie,” you deadpanned.

“Right.”

Pushing off the counter to stand up straight again, you said, “Anyway, you did help me find Dr. Magic. So, my turn.”

“Oh, no, you seriously don’t have to do that. I rigged the deal—”

“Yeah, about that.” You took a step forward. “How did you think that was going to end up for you, anyway? Were you going to sell somebody else out as Dr. Magic and hope I wasn’t going to talk to them? Spit in your mouth first and ask questions later?”

“I was thinking on my feet.”

“Maybe think laying down next time, Junnie.”

“Ouch.”

“Anyway, come on, you’ll want to sit down for this.” You grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the living room.

“You don’t need to feel like you have to do this,” he reassured you.

Stopping the two of you in front of the couch, you turned to face him with a smirk. “Believe me when I say that it is going to be a treat unto itself for me to see you under the effects of siren venom. M’kay?”

Renjun’s surprise was evident on his face. “Oh.”

You stepped closer to him, delicately placing a hand on his chest. “Now unless you want me to literally spit in your mouth, I’m going to have to kiss you, to administer the venom.”

His eyes flicked between the hand you had on his chest and your face as he replied. “I’m okay with that—the kissing—if you are.”

“Renjun, I’ve been ready to eat you alive since you said the words ‘I want to experience siren venom for science’ to me.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. So why don’t you sit?” You guided him with the hand against his chest to sit back against his couch. Swinging one leg over his hips, then the other, you lowered yourself onto his lap. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, tentatively settling his hands on your thighs. “Is this okay?”

“More than.” You smiled, looping your arms around his neck. “Now, a couple things, before we get started.”

“We haven’t started?”

“You’ll know it when we do.”

“Right.”

“I know you think you know what siren venom is like, but whatever scientific articles you’ve read, or documentaries you’ve watched, or slides you’ve studied under microscopes in lab, cannot actually prepare you for what it’s like. Which, I imagine is why you want to experience it for yourself.” You smirked down at him as you watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down with a gulp. “So before I actually dose you up with it, I need you to tell me what you’re actually okay with doing and what you’re not. Because once you get my venom in you, you’re going to want to let me do anything and everything to you, up to and including kill you, remember?”

“Well that’s off the table.”

“Good to know,” you snorted, running a fingernail down the nape of his neck. You felt a shudder go through him. “Is this okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” He seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes open. You halted your motions to let him think, and watched in amusement as he blinked his mind clear.

Once enough time had passed, you prompted him, “So?”

“I think just kissing,” Renjun answered. “Like, making out, or whatever. If you want…”

You snickered. “What part of ‘eat you alive’ was I unclear about?”

“The ‘eat’ part, actually. How literal is that?”

“Guess you’ll find out,” you teased. Then, you focused again as you sat back a little. “Okay, making out. Making out means different things to different people. So… we know kissing’s on the table. Tongue?”

“Yeah.”

“Teeth?”

“Where?”

“Waist up. You got somewhere you don’t want them?”

He took a moment to think about this. Then shook his head. “No. You can use them. Anywhere.”

“Same goes for you. Hickies?”

“Giving or receiving?”

“Both. You first.”

“Both are okay. You?”

You were already zeroing in on his neck and a small part of his collarbone peeking out from under his hoodie. “Same. Touching over clothes?”

“Okay, as long as you don’t think it’ll be too much with the venom…”

“Oh, Junnie, everything is going to be too much.” You grinned down at him.

His breathing had picked up pace as the two of you were talking. “You? The touching?”

“Good. Great. Touching under clothes?”

Renjun squirmed underneath you, but maintained your eye contact. “Just under my shirt.”

“Smart boy,” you said approvingly. “Me too.”

“Is that it?” He asked quietly, eyes now flicking down to your lips.

“I think so…” You looked around the room to buy a couple extra seconds of thinking time. When you hadn’t come up with anything else, you looked down at the human below you once more. “Ready, Renjun?”

“Yes.”

You took one final look over him like this, how much he already wanted you before he’d even gotten any of your venom in him, and dragged the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip instinctually. His heartrate jumped, and you wondered if it was fear—if the motion had reminded him perhaps of a hungry predator—or need. Or maybe a bit of both.

But you couldn’t tease him nor yourself any longer, swooping down to connect your mouths. You started off with just a couple light, closed-mouth kisses, to ease him into it. You heard him inhale quickly through his nose, his grip on your thighs tightening minutely. Swiping your tongue across the seal of his lips, you were delighted when he immediately parted his mouth in response, his tongue seeking yours out. You hummed contentedly into his mouth as you started stroking a fingernail down the back of his neck again. At the same time, your venom was beginning to mix in with your saliva, being passed onto Renjun.

Once his jaw started going slack in the kiss, and his hands slowly slid off your legs entirely to rest lamely at his side, you deemed him plenty dosed up. Consciously, you blocked off your venom glands once more. When one particularly drawn-out scratch down the back of his neck finally elicited a noise from him, an involuntary whine, you felt something in you snap. You needed more of that.

“So this is what siren venom feels like…” He mumbled breathily, letting his head loll back against the couch cushion as you kissed a path down his jawline and neck. When you felt his breath hitch in his throat over one particular spot, you decided to take your time there, sucking and nipping a mark into his skin.

When humans were… locked in a lover’s embrace, they let off a certain perfume distinguishable only to sirens—which was what made them the favored prey of sirens for so long. A human under the influence of siren venom? Delectable. And every human’s was unique too, so Renjun under the influence of your venom? Absolutely addictive.

With each kiss you stole from his lips, every nip you left on his neck that you then soothed over with your tongue, you got another taste of it. A sweetness that came with a bite, like ginger candy.

Renjun was still talking, though, his vocal cords vibrating under your lips. “My-My heart’s beating so fast, and I’m so warm—that’s so the ocean water doesn’t feel cold, of course—”

“Would you shut up?” You sat back up, grabbing him by the hair.

“Why?”

“I’m trying to kiss you again, idiot.”

“Oh. Right.” He closed his mouth, looking up at you with glassy eyes, waiting. Gods, he was so pretty like this.

You crashed your lips back on his, a mess of teeth and lips and tongue as he tried to keep up with you. But you knew that your venom was in full effect now, every single one of his nerve endings was approximately three and half times more sensitive. So you were sure it was all a little overwhelming. But he was definitely trying his best, kissing sloppily into your mouth with hungry, desperate whines.

Pulling him back off with your grip in his hair, you traced a thumb over his kiss-swollen bottom lip, cooing over how fucked-out he looked like this. “Oh, baby. Oh, poor Junnie. What’s wrong? Can’t even kiss me properly because it feels too good? Baby’s overwhelmed with just a little bit of kissing?”

He opened his mouth wider, darting the tip of his tongue out to brush against the pad of your thumb. You pushed the finger in his mouth, groaning as he immediately closed his lips around it. “Gods, you’re perfect, Junnie.”

Taking your thumb back out of his mouth just to grab his chin with the same wet digit, you attacked his lips with yours again. Ginger candy. His hands that had been lamely resting at his sides the entire time now fumbled at something in the area where your hips met.

“What? What are you trying to do, baby?” You asked, leaning back to look down. He was grabbing at the hem of his hoodie, unsuccessfully yanking it up towards his head as part of it was stuck under one of your thighs.

“‘m too hot. Please…” He panted, dropping it as he looked up at you pleadingly.

You nodded slowly in understanding, knowing that one of the effects of the siren venom was an increase in body temperature, not to mention what you two were just doing. The collar of another shirt was visible underneath the sweatshirt. “Okay, Junnie, we can take your hoodie off. But only the hoodie. Your other clothes are staying on, understood?”

He nodded quickly, hips bucking up against you. Sweat was beading up on his forehead, his hair getting stuck to the damp skin. You shifted back on his lap so that none of the sweatshirt was under you anymore, grabbing the hem and reaching behind him to yank up from underneath him as well.

“Sit forward for me, baby?” You requested in his ear sweetly.

Renjun obliged as best he could, leaning forward to get his back and shoulders off the couch. You pulled the hoodie up over his head, tossing it off to the side, leaving him in a black t-shirt that certainly couldn’t be helping much either. But having that heavy layer off seemed to provide some relief for him, as he let out a sigh, falling back against the furniture again.

You giggled as you settled back into the crux of his lap again, lacing your fingers together behind his neck. “Is that better now, Junnie?”

He shook his head, and you arched an eyebrow curiously.

“Oh? What’s wrong, then?”

Renjun tugged gently at your cardigan where it had shrugged down to show one of your shoulders. “Please?”

Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, you thought this over. You had a tank top on under the cardigan, and both of you were still wearing everything else. Not to mention that you were starting to get a bit warm too. Sirens ran naturally cooler than humans, so you were sure that to him, you felt practically refreshing right now, but you honestly were a bit hot for a siren’s tastes.

Giving a contemplative hum first, you finally relented, “Alright, Junnie. But just my sweater. Everything else stays on, because we didn’t talk about that before the venom, do you understand?”

He rushed to strip you of the knit cardigan, his mouth following his hands’ path down your skin. First on your shoulder, then down your arm. You let the garment drop on the floor behind you as he kissed back up along your shoulder, then over the fabric of your tank top until he got to your collarbone, and finally the hollow of your throat. Fondly stroking the back of his head, the pleased purr that had started in your chest turned into a surprised moan when he licked a long stripe up your throat.

Holding his face in your hands so that your noses brushed, and your lips barely ghosted over each other, you let your breaths mingle in the meager space afforded. Renjun ended your little anticipation game quickly, kissing you tongue-first, and you kissed him back just as eagerly, sucking on his tongue with lewd, wet noises. He moaned into your mouth, his hands grabbing at your waist for purchase first, then slipping and curling into the material of your shirt, bunching it in his fists.

Slowing the pace of your kisses, you eventually sat back, appraising the state he was in. You affectionately ran a hand through his hair as you took in his blown pupils, kiss-swollen lips, and pink cheeks. “Junnie? How are you feeling? Need a break?”

You hadn’t given him another dose of venom since the initial one, which wasn’t very large to begin with. But this was his first time experiencing it, so you wanted to check in. He should be just past the peak of it by now, starting to come down but for all intents and purposes still very much intoxicated. Siren venom wasn’t meant to last very long, after all, it took an adult human less than a minute to drown.

“Need you…” He insisted, arching up towards you.

Indulging him in one, two more feverish kisses, you pulled away once again. “I know, baby. And you’ve been doing so good for me. So I need you to tell me if you need a break. Okay?”

“’kay.” He agreed before you sealed your mouth over his again.

Kissing down from his mouth to just under his jaw, at the same time you trailed a finger down the center of his front until it got to the hem of his t-shirt.

He nodded fervently before you could say or do anything more. “Please… please…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” you quieted him down gently. “Doing so good for me, Junnie. The best.”

You slipped your hands under his shirt, just to stroke his waist. His muscles tensed under your touch, and he let out a sound of satisfaction. He grabbed at your thighs again, but you couldn’t tell if it was an attempt at reciprocity or to have something sturdier to ground himself to than your flimsy tank top. The corner of your lips quirked up as you pressed a couple more kisses down his neck to hover your lips over his pulse point, content to start a new mark there as your hands continued to explore under his shirt. It was when you gently raked your nails down over his pecs that you got the loudest moan out of him yet, and you groaned in response.

“Gods, you’re perfect,” you nuzzled your nose into Renjun’s neck, then pressed a couple relatively chaste pecks to his cheek. “Just perfect…”

Taking your hands back out from his shirt, you silenced his whine at the loss of contact by slotting your lips together once more. You cupped his face with one hand, using the other to take one of his hands off your leg and lace them together, palm to palm. This seemed to make him content once more, especially when you brought your connected hands up to the back of the couch, pinning his behind his head. He squirmed under you, letting out a familiar noise of pleasure into your mouth and squeezing your hand tightly.

You knew the venom was well and truly starting to wear off when Renjun began keeping pace with your slow, lazy kisses, his mouth not as sloppy but no less delightful as it moved in tandem with yours. The thumb of the remaining hand on your thigh started to stroke over your skin, and the hand that you were holding gave yours a gentle squeeze. You gave him one, two last lingering kisses, drinking in the dwindling taste of ginger candy while you could, Renjun matching you beat for beat.

Unlacing your fingers and dropping your hand from his face, you drew back from him. Before you could say anything, though, Renjun grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you in for one more kiss, sinking his teeth into your already tender, over-kissed bottom lip. You gasped into his mouth, which gave him the perfect opportunity to intertwine his tongue with yours again on his apparent mission to try to kiss the breath from you. A nigh impossible task for a human to do to a siren, but it definitely felt like he was succeeding. He was crushing his lips against yours so hard you were worried about him drawing blood—not because you would mind the pain, but for fear of his safety if he got a direct hit of your blood in his mouth.

In the back of your mind, you were desperately trying to remember if you had maybe accidentally opened your venom glands a second time later on, but just drew a blank. That wasn’t something you did unaware, it wasn’t automatic, it had to be done on purpose. Then, for a brief moment, you were worried about secondary wave syndrome—some humans break down siren venom in two phases instead of one, and the second one almost always kills them if they’re not brought to a human medical doctor for treatment—and you started running through the symptoms as well as the nearest human emergency rooms in your mind. Burst capillaries in the eyes, refusal of food and water, the hospital three blocks over should have an ER, right? But the kiss didn’t feel like when he’d been intoxicated on your venom before, this one felt deliberate, in control. He was in control. You let out a small moan at the thought, and Renjun’s lone hand on your thigh tightened in response.

Once he finally let you go, you both sat there in silence for a good few seconds, you still on his lap. You stared extra hard at the whites of his eyes. They looked normal. He seemed… normal.

It was rare for either of you to be speechless, much less the both of you.

“Well…” you broke the silence. “That was siren venom. You should drink some water. Stay right here, I’ll get it.”

You climbed off of him, heading into his kitchen. Looking at the oven, you were wondering how the timer hadn’t gone off in that entire time when you saw that it wasn’t on. The words ‘TIMER SET?’ were flashing on the screen at you, and the preheat hadn’t been started either. The pizza rolls had just been slowly defrosting on a pan in the cold oven. You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching into his fridge for his Brita filter then securing a couple cups from the cabinets.

Walking back into the living room, you handed the human his cup of water and remained standing as you took a sip of yours.

“You didn’t start the oven, for your pizza rolls,” you informed him quietly.

“Wh— oh, shit,” Renjun groaned, tipping his head back. “I guess I don’t get to give you your first pizza roll tonight.”

“That’s okay.” You dropped onto the couch next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“So… that was siren venom,” he breathed out, then took a long gulp of his water. Definitely not second wave syndrome.

“That was siren venom,” you confirmed with a laugh, fondly brushing a piece of sweaty hair off his forehead.

“You were right… I was not prepared,” he admitted with a laugh, taking another drink.

“So do you think you would’ve let me kill you?”

“Yeah. I would’ve given you my credit card info, bank password, spilled all of my friends’ worst secrets, let you kill me, killed someone else if you asked me. God, that was…” He said with wide eyes, shaking his head. But there was a familiar glint in his eye as a smile cracked across his face, “Incredible.”

“Glad you think so,” you giggled, patting his chest. “Now don’t become a venom junkie, okay? I couldn’t live with myself if you did and it was my fault.”

“I won’t. Not really what I meant anyway.”

You grinned slyly at what he seemed to be implying, that it might not have just been the siren venom, but that it was you and your venom that made it so incredible. Like how every human had a slightly different essence, every siren had a unique chemical signature in their venom. It’s why using it non-consensually nowadays would be extremely stupid (as well as just an immoral thing to do and also a crime)—it can be matched to the siren in a lab like DNA. In addition, anecdotally, every siren’s venom was said to produce a slightly different high, but no mass studies had backed that up. You were inclined to believe the stories, though.

Renjun was still a bit hazy, though, still riding the high of the venom, so you decided to tuck a conversation like that away for another time.

“So why did you pick Magical Creatures Studies? Other than you’re insane?” You redirected the topic to a more neutral one.

Renjun didn’t seem put off at all about this jump. “When I was a kid, my family traveled around a bunch, for my dad’s job. I got to meet a lot of different kinds of beings, some of them became my best friends, and I never wanted to stop learning about it all.”

“What does your dad do?”

“Government job,” he answered, suddenly interested in picking at his nails.

You furrowed your brow thoughtfully. “Wait a minute… Huang Renjun. As in, your father is Ambassador Huang? That we’ve had to write papers on in class?”

Ambassador Huang was the first human ambassador sent on diplomacy trips to outside nations of magical creatures post-integration. His trips had largely been considered a monumental success, and credited as a big driver behind the huge uptick of immigration that your city has been seeing from outlying areas in the past couple decades. You’d hardly gotten through a single contemporary MCS class without directly learning about him or at least hearing his name. And you’d apparently been going to school with his son for four years and just pumped said son full of your venom and made out with him while he was high on your venom.

“Yeah…”

“Dude! What the hell? You didn’t think to mention that at some point?” You asked incredulously.

“And sound like some uppity nepo kid bragging about my dad? No thanks,” Renjun snorted.

“Yeah, maybe not like day one but like… I don’t know, before I used my venom on you!” You nudged his arm teasingly.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I just venom-ed Ambassador Huang’s son!”

“Oh my God, could you not call me that?” He snapped at you. “This is why I don’t tell people! Because now I don’t have a name anymore, I’m just Ambassador Huang’s son.”

You immediately realized your mistake, your stomach dropping as you heard the hurt in his words. “Renjun, I’m—”

“Just go.” He demanded, standing up from the couch and putting distance between you two again. “We both got what we wanted, right? You found out who Dr. Magic was, and I experienced siren venom. That’s all this was, so you can go. You don’t owe me anything else.”

You clenched your jaw, setting your cup on the end table beside the couch. Picking up your cardigan from the floor with as much dignity as you could, you pulled it back on. Neither of you said another word as he watched you stalk over to the front door, shove your shoes back on, throw the door open, and slam it closed behind you.

Drumming your fingertips along your keyboard, you squinted at the flashcards on your screen. You were in a sour mood, which had persisted ever since you’d left Renjun’s last night feeling used.

Ten was next to you at your picnic table outside the student union, finishing up a pencil portrait sketch of one of his other friends—one of the CompSci majors you’d paid to write your browser extension, actually. Dejun, a dragon, whose slit pupils, many bejeweled earrings, and a singular fang poking out from under his top lip featured prominently in the portrait. The sketch was part of Ten’s midterm portfolio check-in for one of his classes. Midterms were literally this week. Like, right now. You forced your sharp teeth further into the wooden pencil in your mouth.

“You’re going to ruin your cuspids like that, Y/N,” Ten chastised you calmly, rubbing at a line with the pad of his ring finger to smudge it before flipping his own non-mangled pencil around and continuing to sketch with the graphite.

“I’ll grow another set,” you grumbled, but took the writing utensil out of your mouth nevertheless.

“And have no teeth in the meantime. Real sexy siren stuff. Sure to lure all the hotties to their deaths looking like GamGam missing her dentures.”

“Shut up!” You shoved his head away, earning a loud peal of laughter from your friend. “As if you’ve been pulling anybody yourself. You’re literally a siren art major covered in tattoos that he designed himself, more piercings than a dragon, including nipple rings, and you haven’t been on a date in… what, almost a year?”

“So we’re both disappointments to the good siren name, huh?” He held up his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Just a couple of poor, celibate sirens doomed to be disgraces to their species forever…”

“Can you not yell that to the entire courtyard, dude?”

“What? Not announce very loudly that you haven’t been with anybody in exactly four—”

You lunged to cover his mouth before he could publicize precisely how long it’s been since you’d hooked up with someone. Ten immediately broke down into laughs behind your hand that was covering his mouth, his shoulders shaking even as you smacked him on the back of the head with your other hand.

“Gods, what is wrong with you?” You hissed at him. “You’re a menace to society. And me.”

When you’d finally let go of his face, he said through a couple more chuckles, “Hey, you could easily do it back to me.”

“Why would I want to do that? And the fact that you’re suggesting it makes me think that you want me to do that, which makes me want to do it even less. You freak.”

Before your podmate could respond, you caught sight of a figure approaching your table head-on. Setting your jaw, your body immediately tensed. There was no mistake, Huang Renjun was walking straight towards you. Ten seemed to have noticed the shift in your body language and mood, as he didn’t say anything further, quietly going back to his sketchbook as you watched Renjun get nearer and nearer.

“Y/N,” he said your name quietly, stopping not quite at the end of the table beside you, but next to the end of the bench across from you.

“What do you want from me now, Renjun?” You replied bitterly, pretending to return your hands to your keyboard as if you were going to refocus on your studies.

“Uhm, to talk, I guess?”

Ten interjected, “Do you guys need a second? I can go—”

You held him in place with a hand around his wrist, your voice curt, “No, Ten. Stay. This will be short.”

Your friend lowered himself back down into his seat.

You then set your hard gaze on Renjun. The marks you had left on his neck were still visible above the collar of his t-shirt. Moving your eyes from that to his face, you cocked your head to the side. “What’s in it for me? You established that our relationship is purely transactional, remember? We apparently just use each other. You scratch my back, I spit in your mouth, quid pro quo.”

“Okay, I’m going now,” Ten declared, wrenching his arm from your grasp to grab his sketchbook, pencils, and backpack before taking off.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I don’t see you like that at all, I just... I got defensive and snapped. It’s not an excuse, but still, I want you to know that I don’t mean anything I said. I’m sorry.” Renjun shifted uncomfortably on his feet, but you could see the genuine remorse on his features.

You breathed in, then out.

“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, letting your voice relax back to the natural softness that it held around Renjun. “You’re your own person, aside from just ‘Ambassador Huang’s son.’ I’m sorry for treating you like anything other than Renjun.”

“It’s not that I’m not super proud to be his son or anything, I think he’s really awesome. He was my hero growing up; still is. I mean, I’m going into the same field as him. Kind of. You know? It’s just because we’re going to be doing the same kind of thing, I want to be able to be looked at for what I do. Good or bad.”

“Bad? You plan on using your degree for evil, Renjun?” You teased, scooting over on the bench seat to take Ten’s previous spot and freeing up a place for Renjun to scoot in beside you.

“I could,” he played along, gladly taking the seat offered.

The two of you made eye contact, then burst into laughter at the same time.

“What?” He questioned in mock offense. “I think I’d make a great evil dictator, personally. You don’t think so?”

“Not at all, you’d be great at it.”

“Thank you. My friends don’t take my threats so seriously.”

“Which will ultimately be their downfall.”

Renjun looked back out at the campus in front of you two, his voice turning serious again, “But, seriously, I mean, I don’t want people having all these lofty expectations for me and then be disappointed when I don’t change the whole world, nor do I want them making things easy for me because they know my dad.”

“That’s fair. Unattainable, but fair to wish for,” you nodded in understanding.

“Ugh...” He slumped forward, dropping his head into his arms atop the table.

“Look, Renjun…” You rested one hand on his arm as the other rubbed up and down his back supportively. “You can’t change who your dad is, and you said it yourself, it’s not like you’re ashamed of him either. So don’t brag, and don’t be a dick when somebody brings him up either. Just do your best to show people who Huang Renjun is. And if they still don’t get it, that’s their loss. Because I already know him, and I think he’s pretty cool.”

Renjun sat back up to look you in the face with a skeptical eyebrow raised. “You’re such a cheeseball. Aren’t sirens supposed to be alluring and enchanting?”

“Shut up! I will drown you! See how alluring I am when you’re under a siren call,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m kidding.” He grinned at you, nudging your shoulder with his. “That really did make me feel better, thank you, Y/N.”

You smiled back. “You’re welcome, Renjun.”

The two of you kept smiling at each other for a moment before he broke the eye contact, looking down at his hands then shifting his gaze back to the courtyard.

“Uhm, while we’re airing stuff out about last night...” He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Yeah, Junnie?” You tilted your head to the side, watching as his cheeks started flushing.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you. I kind of popped off on you right after... everything. But thank you, for taking care of me before, during, and after. It didn’t even occur to me to talk about what we could and couldn’t do beforehand. Thank you for that, and for getting me the water. And... all of it in between...” His ears were bright red too at this point, but he managed to look you in the eye as he gave you his genuine gratitude.

You nodded in understanding. “You’re welcome. I’m glad that you felt cared for during all of it. In addition to, you know, everything else you felt.”

“Mm, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Studying his face curiously, you said, “You look like you want to ask me something else.”

“Well, I feel like you still weren’t very clear on the ‘eat me alive’ thing.”

You rolled your eyes. “Gods, Junnie, I’m not going to actually eat you—”

“I mean...” Renjun took a deep breath. “I kind of always feel like I’ve got a little bit of siren venom in me when I’m around you, Y/N. My heart races, and my skin is warm, and everything is just better when I’m with you. I want to see you when you’re not around, and when things are hard for you, I want to make everything better. I like you, and between the Dr. Magic deal, and our stupid academic rivalry, and what we did last night, I don’t know what I am to you, but that’s how I feel.”

If someone had told freshman you that Huang Renjun would ever say words like that to you, you’d have laughed in their face to the point of tears— or slapped them. And yet, in that moment, you weren’t surprised in the slightest. It was the most natural, beautiful, delightful, perfect thing that could’ve happened. Just like you leaning over to give him a modest, near-demure kiss on the cheek, absolutely beaming at him as you pulled back.

“I like you too, Renjun,” you admitted.

His eyes went wide before a broad, tender smile spread across his features and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He let out a drawn-out sigh of relief, “Ohh, that’s one weight off my chest for this week.”

You laughed in agreement. “Me too. Actually makes everything feel lighter.”

“Yeah, it does,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “So how much do I owe you?”

“What?”

“You said you were going to invoice Dr. Magic. For the browser extension, and the color copies, and whatever else. How much do I owe you?”

You tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to think before a smirk pulled across your lips. “Mm, should be exactly the price of one nice dinner and a movie.”

“Dinner and a movie? Just how many copies were you making?” He asked with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“A nice dinner,” you reiterated. “I paid those CompSci majors fairly for their time.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Friday night after your last midterm, you were knocking on Huang Renjun’s door. The two of you had seen each other this week for your Linguistics in MCS class, but had been utterly locked into academic mode and hadn’t met up aside from that. So, per his invite, you were here in your “midterms best”— i.e., the pajamas you had been wearing at your own apartment since submitting your last mid-semester draft earlier today. You’d been told this wasn’t going to be a fancy affair.

Judging by the pajamas that Renjun had also answered the door wearing—giving you vivid déjà vu to the last time you were here—you were dressed appropriately for the occasion. He led you in by the hand, informing you there was something he wanted to show you in the kitchen.

You came to a stop in front of a plate piled high with small, pillow-shaped pieces of dough, some with bursts of red sauce leaking out of them. You couldn’t help but let out a sputtering laugh. “Pizza rolls? Did midterms scramble the egg on your face so bad that you missed the part where I said nice dinner?”

You might not have ever eaten pizza rolls, but you knew what section of the grocery store they came from.

“I can’t even tell what that was supposed to be… You’re so beautiful…” He was staring at you with a look of pure adoration, and surprised you by giving you a fleeting peck on the cheek, gone as soon as you’d realized what he was doing. Your hand instinctually came up to brush at your skin, almost in disbelief, as he went back to explaining his plans for tonight. “Anyway, I didn’t get to give you your first pizza roll the other night, and I figured that the last thing you actually wanted right after midterms week was to go out to some hoity toity place and be out at the movie theater really late, right? So, I’ve got pizza rolls, peanut butter cookies, your seaweed tea, and like way more snacks and candy and stuff. So we can chill and watch whatever movies you want tonight, unwind from midterms. And then next weekend, we’ll do your nice dinner and go to the movie theater. Think of it as an IOU.”

A fond smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you nodded your approval. “Mmm… you’re right. This is great, Junnie. Thank you.”

Set up on Renjun’s couch with the assortment of snacks—pizza rolls included—and your first movie chosen, you settled in next to him, knee to knee, under the same blanket as the two of you ate. You decided that pizza rolls weren’t that bad (you still liked peanut butter sandwich cookies better), convinced Renjun to try some of your ocean flakes again—a favorite snack of sirens, which he’d already tasted on one occasion at a Dr. Magic hunting session and hated—to similar results, and finished off a bottle of seaweed-infused tea by the time the first movie was about a third of the way done. At this point, you were pretty satiated food-wise, and set your empty drink bottle on the coffee table to sit back on the couch.

Linking your arm with Renjun’s, you rested your head on his shoulder as he was still finishing up his plate of pizza rolls. “That was good, Renjun. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I call dibs on little spoon first, by the way.”

“Damn.”

Once he was done eating as well, you laid down to eagerly take your promised place as little spoon. Renjun stayed partially propped up against the arm of the couch so he could see the TV as you were nestled back against his chest, one of his arms slung over your waist. Your fingers played with his under the blanket absentmindedly as you got used to your new place, with him, in his arms.

“Renjun?” You said into the quiet. The only noises were coming from the TV. The movie was nearly done, just a couple little resolving scenes after the climax left. You’d seen it plenty of times before—both of you had, it was a favorite that you’d discovered you two shared earlier in the semester—which was why you’d picked it, an easy watch that you both liked. But nothing that required your full attention, so you could talk or miss scenes if you wanted.

“Yeah?” He responded just as softly.

“This is really nice. Hanging out, just us. No school, no Dr. Magic.”

“I know. Almost doesn’t feel real.”

“What? That we’re hanging out without trying to kill each other?”

He let out a couple laughs, catching your hand that had been playing with his under the blanket and lacing your fingers together. “I think there’s definitely some people that would be shocked to see us right now. But I meant more-so that we don’t have any schoolwork to do right now, and that the whole Dr. Magic thing is finally over. Other than the dinner that I owe you.”

“Oh… I owe you… I-O-U…” you sounded the words and letters out slowly. “I get it now.”

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed dreamily, brushing your hair away from your face to press two kisses to your temple in quick succession.

You turned over to face him to properly protest, “Hey, I didn’t grow up around humans, you know that, right? I just came here to go to school! I moved here like, two weeks before our first day of freshman year—”

“I’m not making fun of you, Y/N!” He promised, sandwiching your hand between both of his and squeezing it tightly. “I respect how difficult it must have been for you to acclimate to the new culture and city when you moved, and so suddenly, on top of starting school. I just love y- love when you do that. Genuinely, I’m so charmed by it. Endeared. Bewitched. Whatever word you want to use. It’s something I never noticed until this semester, when we started doing the Dr. Magic stuff together. Despite knowing you for so long, in the department, in classes.”

“You know what I never knew about you before this semester, Junnie?”

“What?”

“That you were such a softie,” you snickered fondly. “I thought you were all textbooks and GPA and flashcards and whatever.”

The human ducked his head bashfully. “It’s something I’ve been working on this year.”

“Between this and Dr. Magic, I think you’ve been doing pretty well.”

“Thanks.”

“So, why did you do it, Junnie?” You asked curiously. “Not be a softie, I mean, but…”

“What? Be Dr. Magic?” He clarified, to which you nodded. “I didn’t mean to make a persona like that, really. I had to pick a screenname, and the guys had jokingly called me that a couple times when I helped them out with some problems. That’s all.”

“I know why you started the account. Knowledge. That’s also why you didn’t get the credit. You just needed to know. Though, the story behind the name is cute,” you pinched his cheek, and he tried to deter your hand with his shoulder half-heartedly. “I mean more like, why were you hiding your IP and using VPNs and stuff before you even knew that I was trying to track you down? In the fall.”

“I made the first couple posts from the school computers just because I like to do my work there, I wasn’t trying to cover anything up. Then I pictured what I’d do if I found someone posting like I was on the forums. And I would’ve tried to find out who they were. So I started covering my tracks a bit more intentionally after that. Didn’t want any groupies rolling up on me.” He pinched your side teasingly with the last sentence, and you slapped his hand away with an eye roll.

“Oh shut up!” You scoffed, ignoring his hands as he tried to pull you back towards him again.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m sorry,” he apologized through his chuckles. “If anything I’m your groupie, I swear. Your number one fan from the moment you showed me your conspiracy board.”

“Mm, fine.” You scooted closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you once more. “Glad we got that cleared up.”

Renjun shifted to lay on his back, and you easily followed the move to snuggle in mostly on top of him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and your hand on his waist, fingers innocently smoothing over a patch of skin above his hipbone where his shirt had ridden up. It sounded like the credits were on by now, but you didn’t really care about picking another movie as Renjun hummed along to the familiar song that played over the scrolling names. You’d sing along too, if you were alone at your own place. But now you didn’t dare even hum like the human with you for fear of what it could do to him. Renjun’s voice was plenty lovely enough though, even just this casual little bit humming. You’d see if you could get him to sing for you properly one of these days. If an opportunity came before graduation. Who knew what your days would even look like before then.

Gods, graduation. You felt like you could shrivel up and die just thinking about it. Not to mention that you hadn’t even told Renjun that you’d—

“Hey. What are you thinking about?” He suddenly asked, his disapproving tone clear.

You gulped. “How could you tell I was thinking about something?”

“For one, you’ve got your bad thinking face on.” He pinched your bottom lip. “You pout. It’s very dramatic. You look very concerned.”

“I have different thinking faces?”

“Yeah, you look different when you’re studying. I’ve seen you do plenty of that to know the difference. And you’ve got a third face when you’re contemplating. Usually you do that one when you’re looking at menus.”

“I didn’t know I was apparently an open book.” You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“It’s cute, Y/N. You’ve got a cute face, and you make cute facial expressions with it, don’t cover it up.” He gingerly grabbed your hands to encourage you to take them off. “Except I am worried about what’s making you make your bad thinking face right now. What’s wrong?”

With a sigh, you pushed up into a sitting position. Renjun followed your lead curiously, a thoughtful frown on his own features as he watched you pull your knees to your chest.

“Renjun, I need to tell you something.”

He regarded you with a skeptical eyebrow raised. “Okay… go for it.”

Nervously, you smoothed out some wrinkles in your pajama pants as you confessed, “Uhm, Dr. Kwon asked me to carry the banner at commencement. I said yes.”

“I knew that.”

“What?” You looked up at him in disbelief.

“Well, since it was midterms already, I figured that if they’d picked me, they would have asked me by now and since they hadn’t, then they must have picked you. I was just waiting for you to tell me so I could tell you… Congrats.” Renjun grinned brightly at you, reaching out to rest his hand on your arm.

“You’re not upset?” You asked trepidly.

“We’re not petty little freshmen anymore, Y/N. No, I’m not upset. I’m proud of you, you deserve it.”

“So did you.”

“Not any more than you did.” He shook his head firmly. “So would you just accept my congrats already?”

You gave a small, shaky smile. “Thank you…”

“There we go.”

“This is what I was so freaked about… when we went to get froyo.”

“You were afraid of me being mad at you for being picked to carry the banner?” Renjun asked incredulously.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!” You defended yourself. “And now I have to do the commencement practices, on top of senior capstone and my extracurriculars…”

He wrinkled his nose. “Ew, commencement practices. So glad I didn’t get picked now, actually.”

“And that was so convincing, Junnie.”

“You remember what you said to me when we got froyo?”

Scrunching your face up, you struggled to think back to the exact conversation you had that day—you’d been really stressed. “Uh, ‘exactly two gummy sharks on mine please?’”

“Well, yeah, your hyper-specific froyo order—”

“Throwing stones at black kettles much?” You teased.

“Excuse me?” Renjun’s eyes went wide.

“Is that not—? I really thought I got it that time.”

“Did you mean to say ‘throwing stones in glass houses’ and/or ‘the pot calling the kettle black?’”

“…Yes.”

He turned very serious as he went to tenderly cradle your face in his hands. “I’m going to kiss you in like two seconds after I finish what I was saying, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” you agreed weakly, wishing very much that he’d just do it now instead of making you wait. He then let your face go.

“When we were talking about wanting people to know that we’re smart,” Renjun clarified. “You said that we’re both like that, and you knew that you were like that. And then you asked me if I knew that I was like that. I had tried to swear up and down this entire time that I was doing all of this—the needing to be the best—for myself. But it wasn’t. I’m like that too. That’s kind of what Dr. Magic was, me taking a step back from needing everyone to know I was the smartest person in the room. A quasi-experiment, to see if I could do it.”

“I think that after graduation, maybe we both chill on being the smartest person in the room, and try to just spend a summer working on that magical bucket list of yours?” You suggested.

“Oh?” He perked up at this. “Really?”

“You ever seen a werewolf shift?”

“No…”

“That sounds like a ‘not yet’ to me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He confirmed with a conspiratorial grin that mirrored the one that you could feel across your own face. “You know how sirens can’t get dosed up on their own venom?”

“Yeah…” You nodded, wondering where he could be going with this.

“Well, I know a witch with a proprietary love potion blend that I think we might be able to modify to produce similar effects.”

“Fascinating.” You thought on this for a second, very quickly running through your knowledge of potion properties to imagine what it could be. “Two-factor blood potion?”

“Yes. But we’d put your venom in it instead of your blood so it wouldn’t kill me.”

“That could work…” You mused. “Speaking of, I should really give you a full dose one of these days.”

He breathed in sharply. “That wasn’t a full dose?”

“Nope.”

“Holy shit…”

“Have you ever watched a phoenix reincarnation?” You added another suggestion to your joint summer bucket list.

“Have you? Wouldn’t that literally blind us?” Renjun questioned, something akin to genuine concern on his face now.

You shrugged. “Allegedly. It’s never been recorded in a lab setting, so who really knows.”

“I think we’re going to get each other killed before we can get our PhDs,” he declared with a fond smile and shake of his head.

“Hey, the betting pools said we’d kill each other by junior year, so I think we’re doing well for ourselves.”

“Do you think we can collect on those bets when we graduate and we’re both still alive and have all of our limbs?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get there.”

“Oh my god, come here,” Renjun groaned deliriously, kneeling to grab your face with two hands and crash his lips to yours. You curled your fingers in the front of his shirt, pulling him down with you as you fell back against the arm of his couch, still connected.

Yeah, you’d drive off that burning bridge when you got there.

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

#renjun #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #renjun x reader #huang renjun #nct dream imagine #renjun imagine #nct imagine #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #renjun fluff #i: renjun #f: dr_magic2303 #au: strawberry sunday #*100 #*200

[whatwouldsylwrite]

At least I got you in my head (5)

(4)

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: sexual themes (not with Abby), Vi from Arcane is here to make you feel better. You and Abby make decisions that rub the wrong way. Mention of reader having a complicated skin care routine that Abby doesn't understand. Also, the girl in the end is Kara Danvers from supergirl; she is never described/mentioned.

Taglist: @abbyily @lillysbigwilly @gravygranules @blairfox04 @frogtits1 @ccinnamongrl @ninazenuk @urmomsgirlfriend1 @sunkissedbibi @couchgarbage @nil-eena @inlovewithelliewilliams @st4rluvrr @mai5mai @machetegirl109 @azelmawrites (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Yoon Jiwoo was a little scary, but you liked how reserved she was: she didn't ask you for anything, didn't try to get to know you deeply, just polite small talk and a few jokes. Instead of coffee she asked you to come and help her with dinner, and you agreed, fully understanding the implications. 

The implication number one: your chin covered in her slick while she mewled above you and tugged on your hair. 

The implication number two: you sprawled out on her bed, shaking after the second orgasm. 

She was teasing you a lot, which wasn't something you necessarily liked in bed, but it suited her so you rolled with it (not like you had a choice, pinned under her). 

Jiwoo kissed you goodbye and you went home at 1 am on Sunday, feeling a little better.

Like your world wasn't spinning around Abby, like you could start moving on and be happy while living with the best roommate you could wish for. There were other girls, available girls, and you didn't have to suffer. Were you available though? Well, not yet. But eventually your feelings would go away, you were sure of it. 

When you came home you expected Abby to be asleep already - you told her you'd be late - but she was in the living room, playing Doom, frowning in concentration as she eviscerated her enemies. She looked good like this, in her grey sweats and muscle tee, her braid resting on her shoulder. Fuck, why were you like that? You just fucked someone, weren't you supposed to fantasise about Jiwoo right now and not drool over your roommate? Jiwoo had great arms too, and she was hot too, and she was the one to fuck you.

God you really were too deep in it if Abby in muscle tee was more exciting than literal orgasms.

You took a breath to calm yourself down and knocked on the door frame, careful not to scare Abby with your presence. She looked up and paused the game, taking her headphones off. She looked a little tired and you knew she wasn't supposed to be up this late. 

"Hey. Why are you not in bed yet?" You sat next to her on the couch, your knee touching her thigh. 

"Was waiting for you." Abby murmured and rubbed her neck. "I wanted to make sure you'd come home safe."

Fuck you and how caring you are, you thought desperately. Jiwoo also told you to text her when you'd be home, why weren't you thinking of this? Why weren't you texting her right now? 

"Well, I am." You smiled a little. "You should go to sleep, Abby. You'll be grumpy in the morning."

"Yeah. Are you hungry? I made pasta."

"You can't do this to me, seriously." You said dramatically and let Abby guide you to the kitchen.

She heated up the food for you and made herself tea after you gave her shit for wanting to drink coffee at 1am. 

"How was it?" Abby asked politely and you tensed. 

"Great." 

"Just great?" Abby laughed kindly. 

"Yeah, well. Stress relief is stress relief." You chuckled, not really understanding why Abby was curious about your sex life. 

It hurt a little, that while you hooked up with Jiwoo to get Abby out of your system, she was now trying to make small talk about it. 

Abby must've noticed your reluctance, because her teasing grin fell.

"Sorry, I'm so used to Ellie waxing poetry about her hookups so for some reason I expected you to do that too." Abby smiled sheepishly. 

"Oh, don't worry. I just don't kiss and tell, you know. Unless you want a crush course in lesbian sex." You winked, curious if you'd make her shy, and yeah, Abby's cheeks were just slightly pink.

"I mean, Ellie talks so much about girls I feel like I could give you a crush course."

You laughed: bantering with Abby was easy and familiar and you felt a bit better, and not in love at all. Just two gals being pals. 

You were lying in your bed and you couldn't fall asleep as you were going back to this weekend. You felt like the whole hookup with Jiwoo was just some kind of revenge, a knee jerk reaction to Abby breaking your little air castles where you two were in love and happy together. You told Cait you wouldn't use other people to get over Abby, but even though the thing with Jiwoo was mutually beneficial, it didn't make you feel any better. Especially since it only gave you relief that lasted until you came home. 

It was a bad idea to begin with and now you regretted it a little. The sex was great, and you had a lot of fun, but the motivation behind it made you question your choice. You had to deal with your hurt before you tried to weave other people into it. 

It was Monday and you decided it was time for plan B: get distracted by getting another student. Work was good, work meant mind exercises and money. Usually you'd get recommended by your previous students, but sometimes your professors would ask you to help someone out, and today was the day when you got lucky. 

Your professor caught you in the corridor while you were walking to your next class and you got scared at first - did you miss an assignment and were losing your points?

"I gave your number to one of my students, she is smart but she had to miss a lot of classes. She needs to pass the test at the end of November, can you help her?"

"Yeah, of course." You nodded politely.

"Thanks." Your professor patted you on the shoulder and hurried to her next class. God, she was always running like a headless chicken and you adored that chaotic energy in her. She was a very talented teacher, she asked for a lot, but she always gave second chances, so if this girl got her to let her improve her grade, then you'd do your best to help her. 

Also, you thought as you watched the hottest fucking person walk through the doors of the library on Wednesday afternoon, you'd have to do your best and keep it in your pants. 

She was built very similar to Abby, the same defined arms and wide shoulders, and she had tattoos. Her nose was pierced and even the bright pink hair looked organic. 

Even the way she walked was hot - Abby was always commanding, and your new student (she was bee lining to your table) walked confidently, like she didn't fucking care and like she knew she was hot. 

Oh this one wasn't straight. No straight girl had the same energy as her. No, this kind of confidence came from wanting to attract a different kind of attention, the attention straight girls didn't seek and didn't need. 

You sat more straight in your seat as the girl came closer, and for some reason you expected her to be cocky, but she smiled at you and you melted. 

"Hi. You are (y/n)?" You nodded and the girl sat next to you. "I'm Vi."

"Nice to meet you." You said, trying to play it cool. Not only she was hot as fuck, she also seemed sweet? "Prof said you need to pass the test?"

"Yeah. I need at least B on this, and I don't understand a thing." Vi chuckled. "I read at home, but it all sounds fucking insane."

You laughed.

"Which part? I bet it's Kant."

"More like cunt if you ask me." Vi mumbled and you laughed again. 

"Okay. Let's start from the beginning and then Kant will make more sense later on. Are you going to have only western philosophy on your test or do we need to cover everything?"

"I think it's only western." 

You put your professional face on and tried to ignore how hot Vi was as best as you could, but judging by her little knowing smirk she was fully aware of her affect on you - though you didn't really mind. She was hot and sweet and made you feel something else except fucking sadness and desperation. 

Maybe you could get both distractions this time, you thought as Vi smiled at you and looked a little lower than what would be considered friendly. 

This week Abby spent way too invested in talking to Owen. They texted regularly and Abby found herself checking her phone every five minutes. He excited her: Abby liked his attention and his jokes, and it didn't happen often to her. Boys were more annoying than enjoyable, so when she'd meet a guy who was actually cool she tried not to pass the opportunity. 

And now when she was spending so much time on Owen she didn't get her weird panics around you anymore. Abby still enjoyed cuddling with you and talking to you, but now she felt safe to do that, when she had an outlet to deal with her loneliness. She could cuddle you and then go to Owen to get her healthy fix of sex and intimacy. 

Not that Abby planned to, but knowing she had an escape made her feel more confident, as if she separated her affectionate side from her lonely horny side. 

from: (y/n)

r u home?

can you meet me downstairs?

I need help

Abby locked her phone and went to the hallway to put her doc martens and a coat - the third week of October wasn't really warm. She quickly made her way downstairs, a little worried about what you needed help with. 

You were standing in front of the stairs with two big plastic bags and Abby just stared at you.

"You okay?" She asked with doubt. Why did you buy two full bags of groceries? Why did you even go without her when it was her job to do all the heavy lifting in the house? "You should've called me."

"I didn't plan to go grocery shopping, I just wanted to buy the cookies, but I spiralled." You shrugged. "Can you help me carry them?"

Abby took all the bags, not letting you touch them at all even when you protested ("equal labour, come on" "you're hunched in your chair 24/7 you have the back of a grandma, chill"). You made light small talk while you went upstairs, Abby told you about her classes and how annoyed she was with some of them: she liked to bitch about stuff with you because you bitched right back without trying to cheer her up. You just understood Abby's need to vent.

Abby took her shoes off and went to the kitchen so she could start unloading the bags. You were still shuffling in the hallway when she opened the bag and stared into the inside.

"What the fuck?" Abby mumbled as she looked over the whole bag filled with her favourite protein bars. 

By that point you came to the kitchen and had the audacity to look like you didn't understand why Abby was shocked.

"Oh, yeah. They were on sale." 

Abby stared at you. 

"So you bought the whole aisle?"

"You burn through them like they're made of oxygen, come on." You said, embarrassed, and Abby laughed. 

"You're insane." Abby chuckled and came closer, holding your face in her warm hands so she could pepper your face with small kisses.

"Thanks." Kiss. "You're ridiculous." Kiss. "I l-" 

Abby's words got stuck in her throat: she couldn't finish this sentence. She didn't know why, but it felt like she meant something way different from what it was supposed to mean between friends. It didn't seem like you've noticed, so Abby kissed your forehead and moved away, making herself pay attention to your pleased face instead of wallowing in her anxiety. 

"Did you really get the whole aisle?"

"I took every pack they had, yes. It was on sale, pretty good deal if you ask me." 

"Whatever you say mathematician." Abby chuckled and helped you put other groceries in their place. 

She couldn't stop herself from smiling: you cared. You remembered small things about her the same way she remembered small things about you (she made sure to buy you your favourite cookies every time she was shopping), and it was so warming. She felt her heart grow with l- 

Why couldn't she use this word for you? God, she thought she was over her stupid panic. It was okay to love her friends. It was okay. 

Maybe she should hook up with Owen again. 

Vi asked you to come to her place for your fourth lesson - she had training before and she would have been late for the lesson if she had to go to the library from there. You didn't mind so you put your books into your bag and went over to her place. 

Vi told you she lived with her younger sister, and you saw the pictures around the apartment: it seemed like bright hair was a theme here. 

Vi's room was a little bigger than yours, and was surprisingly aesthetic with decor. There were a lot of drawings ("my sister drew them") and her table was kinda cluttered, but she quickly freed some space so you could put your books somewhere. 

Being in Vi's room made you tingle. It was obvious to both of you how attractive you found each other, and you couldn't shake the thought she invited you for a different reason with the amount of tension between the two of you.

You were sitting pretty close, her strong jean-clad thigh pressed against yours, but you tried to not pay attention to it and focus on the lesson. So far Vi's been an excellent student, not shy to ask you the same question as many times as she needed, getting to the bottom of it no matter what. Sometimes you had to change your usual explanation so Vi would understand, and putting your brains to work made you feel good.

"Okay, okay, I've got it. Fucking mental gymnastics." Vi sighed as she wrote her answer on a test sample. "Check."

You read her answer and smiled: it was perfect. 

"Good job." Vi’s eyes lit up.

"I want a reward." Vi said and you chuckled before picking up your pen and writing a good job with a star on her paper. 

"Good enough?" Vi chuckled at this and moved closer to you, putting her elbow on the table to support herself. "Something else?" You were teasing her, you knew, but you were so curious how it’d play out.

"Yeah, I have a better idea." She murmured as she moved her face closer to yours, waiting for you to give her green light. You smiled and moved closer, enjoying her wide eyes and a pleased smirk. 

Vi kissed you and you lost your breath for a moment, shocked by how gentle and tentative she was. She was sweet, god she was sweet. If it wasn't for one stupid straight blonde in your life you could have fallen in love with Vi just from the way she kissed. 

You moved away, feeling guilty: you didn't really know what Vi wanted from you, and she didn't deserve to be fucked over because you were an idiot who was in love with their roommate.

"Hey-hey. Wait a second."

"Did I misread the situation?" Vi asked, worried, searching your face for an answer. 

"No. But I'd like to know what you want from this, so we could be on the same page."

"I just think you're hot."

"Nothing serious?"

"No?" Vi looked like she was scared she'd hurt your feelings with her words, but you only sighed in relief.

"Good. Because I think you're hot too." Vi smirked at this and kissed you again, holding your neck with her palm as she stroked your jaw with her thumb. "Is this why you asked me to come here today?"

"No." Vi laughed as she squeezed your hips and moved you to her lap, pressing you closer. God she was strong. "But now I think past me was a genius."

You chuckled and kissed her again, burying your fingers in her soft hair as she pushed her hands under your shirt. Vi sighed into your mouth and you smiled while your hips started to live their own life, grinding against Vi. You were stupidly turned on by how strong and sweet she was, so careful with how she touched you, as if you were not a one night stand but the love of her life. 

"You're gentle." You commented when Vi carefully placed you on the bed.

"I get that a lot." Vi grinned and you rolled your eyes playfully. "Tell me what you want." 

You smiled at that and tugged her shirt off, staring hungrily at her abs and tattoos. She looked like she could destroy you and put you back together and your stomach burned while your eyes went dark with desire. 

"Fuck me.”

---

“You sure you don’t want to come?” You asked and Abby snapped out of watching you get ready in front of the mirror. Abby came to chill out in your room as you went through your wardrobe to find something that’d work for a Halloween party. 

“I’m not feeling it.” What Abby actually meant: Owen was getting a little too aggressive with his attempts to ask her out and she didn’t want to run into him.

“Well, you know how they say, you just need to come and the mood will come too.”

“No, really, I just want to stay home today. But you have fun, you’ve been working the whole week, you need it.”

You’ve been coming home late the past few days, having more lessons than usual, and Abby felt bad for you. At least you seemed to be in a good mood most of the time, more relaxed and happy than the previous week, and Abby was glad the amount of work wasn’t taking a toll on you.

“Thanks, Abby.” You smiled in the mirror and Abby smiled back. She couldn’t look away from you, a little fascinated by your little rituals with all the skin care products you were using. Sometimes she asked you questions about especially weird things she saw in your hands, but otherwise she stayed quiet and just watched you. 

Abby never really was a girly girl, with no desire to learn how to apply makeup or to wear skirts, and when she was a teenager a lot of people liked to tell her if she didn’t get more feminine she’d never find a boy, because boys liked everything she didn’t. And listen, she tried. She even learned how to use eye liner, but when she looked at herself in the mirror she felt like a clown, and she decided the potential boy in her life wasn’t worth trying to become someone she wasn’t. But even if Abby herself didn’t care about doing girly things, she liked watching other girls do their magic: how Ellie painted her nails black, how Nora did her hair, how you applied god knows how many creams/essences on your face. It was calming to her. 

“So, what are you going for?” Abby nodded at the bunch of clothes on your bed.

“The laziest vampire on earth.” You sighed. “You know, all black, some sunglasses to look like an asshole. We still have cranberry juice, right? I’ll pretend it’s blood.”

“Wow, that’s bad.” Abby laughed.

“Well I can’t come in my usual clothes, that would be even worse. I’ll try to look like the lack of effort was a choice and you know what? I’ll look hot doing it.”

“You definitely will.” Not that Abby understood anything in women’s hotness, but hey. She met girls who made her head turn, so.. Listen, she didn’t know where she was going with this thought. All girls were pretty, okay. It was the universal truth, what was the point of thinking she didn’t know when women were hot, she wasn’t a blind idiot. 

Abby walked you out of the door with a promise you’d call her if anything happens and a kiss on the forehead. 

from: Owen

Are you out tonight?

Fuck, Abby thought. Fuck-fuck-fuck. If she’d say she was home he’d definitely ask to come over, and lying was pointless. Abby stared at her phone once more. But what if she’d want to hook up with him later? Fuck. This shit shouldn’t have been so complicated. 

Well. She could lie in a different way.

to: Owen

sorry, I’ve got a fever so I stayed home

That was so stupid and hardly believable, but Abby didn’t want to deal with Owen right now. Or ever. 

Thankfully he left her on read and Abby sighed in relief before going to the living room to finish the next level in Doom. It took her a few hours after she fell down to death a bunch of times, missing the right moment to jump from one stupid pillar to another. And the boss at the end of the level was pretty hard, so when she finally beat him it was close to 2:30 am. 

Abby tidied the living room and then took a shower, her eyes hurt a little after staring at the screen for so long. She came back to her room and cautiously checked her notifications in fear Owen’d drunk-text her, but instead there was a text from you.

from: (y/n)

Im w a girl 

Abby stilled as she read your text, her heart squeezing in pain that she didn’t understand. Was she jealous? But she just turned Owen down, so it couldn't be right. Abby shook her head as if it’d shake the thoughts out of her head and quickly got ready for bed - she hoped to fall asleep before you’d come home with a girl.

It seemed like the universe hated her that night, because when she felt she was finally falling asleep, relieved she wouldn’t hear you coming home, the front door clicked open. 

Abby shut her eyes and tried not to listen to any sounds: to be fair, she didn’t hear anything until your bedroom’s door was shut. She didn’t want to think about what was happening in your bedroom, but then she heard it. 

You were clearly trying to be quiet, but one of your whimpers was too loud. Abby’s ears rang and her heart started beating faster from anxiety. Despite herself her head got filled with pictures of some random girl touching you. Abby wanted to barf, wanted this girl out of your bedroom, wanted to fucking rip her arms off for making you sound like that. 

Abby took a deep breath and sat on the bed, her ears tuned to your bedroom - it seemed like you noticed your mistake and got quieter, but Abby didn’t need you to make any more sounds to feel absolutely sick, her brain conveniently showing her how you were being fucked right now.

Abby huffed in disgust and stilled suddenly, noticing her emotions. She was disgusted? Fucking hell she was. 

You were having sex next door and Abby was so disgusted and angry she wanted to break something. She felt guilty, because you didn't deserve this, you didn't do anything bad, but Abby couldn't shake her feelings and her unbearable fantasies off.

Abby took another deep breath and grabbed her headphones, determined to force herself into sleep, even if she couldn't breathe properly from her awful feelings.

And Abby would have to be nice in the morning, wouldn't she?

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #aligyimh

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Seven: I'll Catch You Darlin'

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.9k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, unprotected p in v, flirting, dads being dads. Two idiots falling in love. Joel is his own warning. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Some of the tags aren't working in the taglist - if you're not getting the notifications, please check your settings to make sure you are taggable. Thx!

Chapter Six | Main Masterlist

Moonlight peeked through the gap in the dark curtains, beams of soft light dancing across your face. Blinking your eyes open, you glanced around the room, momentarily uncertain where you were. Even in the pre-dawn light, the walls were noticeably darker than your room, furniture a rich mahogany, the bedding a deep blue. The spot in the bed beside you was empty but warm, and it jogged your memory.

You were in Joel’s room, in his bed.

You slept with Joel last night… but, no, wait. You didn’t, you know, sleep with him, though you wanted to and now wished you had.

The two of you made a mess of each other on the couch – you still couldn’t believe you made Joel come in his pants. You’d never done such a thing and it was so fucking hot! Even hotter was the fact that he wasn’t even embarrassed about it. Instead, he let you know how much of an effect you had on him, murmuring affectionate words in your ear. Afterwards, you both cleaned up, Joel loaning you a pair of boxer briefs and joggers to replace your soaked jeans and panties, and finally sat down to watch a movie and order pizza. It was a perfect Sunday date night in. When Sarah and Tommy returned, they joined you for a bit, Sarah cuddled into your left side as you cuddled into Joel on your right. Somehow, after Sarah went to bed and Tommy left, you ended up in Joel’s bed, the dark sheets covering you as he held you in his broad arms. Too tired for anything more, you fell asleep.

It was the best night of sleep you had in your entire life.

Glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand, you sighed. Too early to rise, you huddled under the covers wondering where Joel went off to. Just then, the bathroom door creaked open, and Joel emerged, climbing back into bed next to you. His arms encased you in the warmth of his body and you hummed happily, placing soft kisses on his chest.

“Mmm, what are you doin’ awake, darlin’,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose in your hair.

“Dunno,” you replied, fingertips dancing along his arms and over his shoulders. Joel pulled you closer still and, with a tilt of your head, you pressed a kiss to his pouty lips, the scruff of his beard and mustache tickling your skin.

Just being in his arms, in his bed, caused a wave of arousal to pool in your lower belly. Thinking of last night on the couch, your hips pressed forward without conscious thought from your brain and your lower belly brushed against the swelling length of Joel’s cock.

“Is someone feelin’ a lil’ needy?” Joel asked, voice thick and velvety, as one hand wandered down the length of your back to squeeze at the plumpness of your ass.

“Always need you, Joel,” you practically whined, internally cringing at your own neediness. You always swore you wouldn’t beg for a man but with your skin practically burning for his every touch, you’d give anything for Joel to be inside you. You never wanted someone so much you felt like you could shatter from the wanton desire pulsing through you.

Shifting forward, Joel rolled you onto your back and hovered above you, bracing himself on one veiny forearm. The thumb of his free hand swiped slowly across your bottom lip, pulling at the pouty flesh, his dark eyes searing as your tongue darted out for a taste of his skin. With a growling moan, he darted forward to press his mouth to yours, nipping at that bottom lip while his hand traced a path down your neck and chest, seeking the roundness of your breasts. Precise in his movements, Joel swallowed your little mewls as he plucked at your nipples one at a time until they were hardened peaks. You squirmed as each delectable pinch sent a bolt of arousal straight to your pussy.

Without a word, Joel read your movements, his hand gliding further down your body to dip beneath the elastic of your panties. Leaning back slightly, his eyes met yours, pupils blown, and arched a single eyebrow. You were absolutely drenched, your arousal seeping through the fabric of your panties to coat the flesh of your inner thighs.

“All this for me? I’ve been so neglectful, you poor lil’ thing. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you, darlin’.”

Joel’s eyes never left yours as he swiped through your folds, the rough pad of his index finger strumming at your clit for a few beats before slipping inside you. It had been a while since you had anything other than a tampon inside you and your breath caught at the feeling of his thick finger stretching you. Soft mewls quickly turned to panting moans as he added another finger to the mix, curling them both to hit that little fleshy bundle of nerves that made you desperate to come as his thumb teased your clit.

“Shhh, darlin’. We need to be quiet,” Joel whispered, his breath in your ear causing goosebumps to prickle across your scalp and along your arms. Biting your lip, you did your best to stay quiet, breathing heavily through your nose as Joel scissored his fingers, opening you up to take the fullness of him.

Suddenly realizing you’ve been so focused on what Joel was doing to you that your hands hadn’t moved from his waist, you shifted. Hips arching up chasing the orgasm that teetered just out of reach, you slipped one hand around Joel’s hip, digging your fingers under the waistband of his boxer briefs to take the heft of him in hand.

Fuck, he was huge. Joel chuckled and your faced heated at the realization that you said that aloud. “That’s why I’m making sure you’re ready to take me, darlin’. I don’t want to hurt you, ever.”

How was this man real? He was everything you never knew you always wanted and then some. And God damn did he know how to work you right over the edge. Afraid of being too loud, you bit into the flesh of Joel’s shoulder to drown your moans as an intense orgasm washed over you. Joel’s fingers worked you through it, soothing you through the trembling aftershocks until you came back to your senses.

“Please, Joel. I need you. I’m ready. I need you now. Please,” you babbled, hands scrabbling at his underwear, wanting him as naked as you. So much for not begging.

Pushing back, Joel tugged his boxer briefs down his hips and thighs, kicking them away as he settled between your thighs. Your eyes widened when you caught a glimpse of his cock, mouth watering with the desire to taste him. Next time, you thought, as he tilted his hips forward, balancing his upper body on his arms. This was the moment you’d both been waiting patiently for.

Joel’s big brown eyes met yours, seeking confirmation that this was what you wanted, and you smiled. “Please, Joel,” you whimpered, hips bucking in search of friction.

Sealing his lips to yours, Joel pushed forward, easing his cock into you with an exaggerated slowness. The mixture of pleasure and slight pain was exquisite as inch after inch of his cock caressed your walls, eyes rolling back when he finally bottomed out.

“Fuck, baby. Y-you feel so fucking good wrapped around me, squeezing me so tight. I could live here, just like this, forever.” Joel’s voice a deep whisper as he rocked into you, cock sliding along your fluttering walls, hitting just the right spots with every movement. He was do deep inside you; you’d swear you could feel him deep in your belly.

The broadness of him surrounded you as he fed you his cock with steady thrusts. Sex never felt so good, and you knew it had everything to do with Joel and the way you felt about him. You’d never felt this way about anyone before and, though it overwhelmed you, it was the greatest thing in the world. You were bursting to tell him the true depth of your feelings, but hesitated, not wanting to be the first to make such a declaration, especially in the heat of the moment.

The pace picked up, Joel kissing you deeply as he rocked into you. You swallowed each other’s moans as you wrapped your legs around his hips, drawing him ever closer, ever deeper. The brush of his lower belly and coarse curls against you created just the right amount of friction on your clit it threw you right over the cliff, moaning into Joel’s mouth, fingernails digging into the skin of his back. No doubt there would be a dozen half moon markings on his back later.

Within a few thrusts, Joel’s pace turned erratic as he sought his own pleasure. Tearing his lips from yours, he frantically blurted, “Where?”

“Inside. Come inside me, baby,” your mewled, aching to feel him pulse inside you.

Two more thrusts and Joel came, his low groan muffled by your neck as he burrowed his head into the pillow. “Fuck,” he drew out the word, followed by a sigh of your name before he collapsed half on top of you. The bulk of him like a weighted blanket covering your body. “That was amazing. I can’t wait to do it again.”

Still delirious, you both chuckled as quietly as you could manage, chests heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Rolling off you, Joel pulled you close so that you were now sprawled half over him and cuddled you until your heart rates returned to normal.

A glance at the clock let you know you were out of time. Sarah would be up any minute looking for breakfast before getting ready for school. The thought of unwrapping yourself from Joel and leaving his bed pained you, but you both got up. You did a quick cleanup while Joel jumped in the shower. As much as you wanted to join him, you both knew you’d lose track of time if you did. Instead, you jumped in after Joel finished, letting him deal with getting Sarah’s breakfast.

It wasn’t until you emerged from the shower that nervous energy coursed through you at the thought of going downstairs. Did Sarah know you stayed over? Did Joel want Sarah to know that you stayed over? You should have talked to Joel about this before he went downstairs, but it was too late now. The questions still swirled in your head as you slipped on the borrowed joggers and scraped your hair into a knot at the back of your head. You wore a tank top to sleep in and were about to put your shirt from the night before on when one of Joel’s flannels caught your eye. Holding the fabric up to your nose, you breathed in the scent of him – fresh cut wood and a musk that was so uniquely Joel – and slipped the shirt on with a tender smile. Time to face the music, you thought.

Steps light as you walked down the stairs, you heard Sarah chattering away to Joel and smiled when Joel’s deep voice muttered responses. Their connection warmed your heart and you wanted so badly to be part of this family unit with them.

Catching sight of you as you turned the corner, Joel’s dark chocolate eyes lit up, lips twitching into a half smile. “Good mornin’, darlin’,” he greeted once you stepped through into the kitchen, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as if the two of you hadn’t spent the last hour getting full carnal knowledge of each other. “How’d you sleep?”

“Mmm, good morning you two,” you replied, slipping into the seat next to Sarah with a smile at the young girl. “That was the best night of sleep.”

Joel looked pleased with himself as he placed a glass of water on the table in front of you along with a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. “Just what I hoped to hear.” He took the seat across from you at the little four-top table and the three of you dug in.

Sarah kept up a stream of chatter as you ate, telling you all about her ice cream date with Tommy the night before. About mid-way through breakfast, you nearly choked on your eggs when the little girl blurted, “You’re wearing Daddy’s clothes. Does that mean you’re officially his girlfriend now?”

Sputtering, your wide-eyed gaze darted to Joel. He sat there looking cool as a cucumber, lips quirked in a grin and umber eyes twinkling with mischief. “Yeah, darlin’. Does that mean you’re officially my girlfriend now?”

Eyes narrowing at the menace of a man sitting across the table, you smirked. Two could play this game. “Well, I don’t know. What do I get for being your official girlfriend?” you asked, voice dipping toward sultry.

Joel visibly gulped, eyes searching your face before he cleared his throat. “Anything you want.” He said it so simply, the words leaving his lips so effortlessly, and it threw you.

“What about what you want?” you deflected.

Sarah gazed between the two of you, nose scrunched, equal parts happy and confused. Why did adults make everything complicated?

Playfulness glinted in Joel’s eyes, winking at Sarah before turning back to you. “I want you to be my official girlfriend.”

“Okie dokie,” you replied with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, feigning indifference as you took the last bite of eggs on your plate to hide your smile.

Joel shook his head, wide grin splitting his face, and went to reply when his phone buzzed. He shot a brief look to you before answering. “Hey JB,” he greeted, listening as your dad spoke. “Yeah, she’s here. Just getting the nugget ready for school.”

One thick-fingered hand tapped a rhythm on the wooden table, phone to his left ear as he gazed at you. Your dad was talking a lot, the echo of his voice carried in the air, but you couldn’t decipher what he said.

“It’s no bother, man. She’s a good girl and we love having her here.” Joel winked at you again before motioning for Sarah to go finish getting ready. “Yeah, JB, you can talk to her.”

Accepting the phone as he passed it across the table, you sat back in the chair. “Hey Dad. What’s up?”

“What’s up with you, ya dirty stay out? I didn’t see your car last night or this morning and wondered where ya were. Guess I shoulda known you’d be over there.”

There was something off with your dad’s tone and you panicked, trying in vain to think of an excuse on why you would’ve stayed the night. Mouth opening and closing a few times, your dad beat you to the punch.

“Don’t be makin’ a nuisance of yourself over there, ya hear? It’s one thing to have a crush on the guy, but it’s another to force yourself into every aspect of their lives, Spud. Don’t be getting’ in the way of their family time. You know how important that is.”

Your dad kept going, rattling off some other advice you didn’t ask for, but you were stuck on one thing. He thought you had a crush on Joel. He was much more observant than you ever gave him credit for. You and Joel would not be able to keep your now official relationship secret for long, not with good ol’ JB nosing around.

Joel’s eyes burned into you, but you couldn’t meet his gaze, staring down at the flaws in the tabletop instead.

“Anyway, I just wanted to wish ya good luck on your meeting at the school today, sweetie. You make your old man proud,” your dad said. “Tell Joel I’ll see him later. Love you, Spud.”

“Thanks Dad, love you too,” you uttered, the line going dead before you finished speaking. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, your eyes met Joel’s, finally. “He thinks I have a crush on you and shouldn’t interfere with your family time.”

Tilting his head to the side, brows pinched, Joel reached a hand across the table to link his fingers with yours. “We’ll tell him real soon, darlin’. Don’t want you keeping secrets from your dad like this.”

“You sure? What if…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m here, in this, for the long haul,” Joel replied imploringly, his fingers squeezing yours. “I haven’t felt like this in too long, if ever, and I’m not givin’ it up for anything. Okay?”

The tell-tale tickle of tears welled but you refused to let them spill over, nodding with a watery smile. “Okay.”

The day started off cool, but the southern sun beat down on the back of Joel’s neck by early afternoon, causing him to shed the red flannel he wore to the job site. Gulping down a bottle of chilled water, he glanced at his phone hoping for a message from you.

You were on his mind constantly. Something triggered a memory or thought of you at almost every moment of the day. He’d see a bird and wonder if you knew what species it was. Or he’d hear something funny and wonder what you’d think about it. Or memories of you in his lap and in his bed would hit suddenly, making him hot under the collar and below the belt.

Joel Miller was a man falling in love and powerless to stop it. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

Just then his phone buzzed with a message from you asking him to call you when he had a moment. He’d always make time for you, he thought, his fingers already hitting the call symbol.

“Hey handsome,” you answered on the second ring, breathless as if you were running.

“Howdy darlin’,” he replied, voice deep and rumbly, just the way he knew you liked it. “How’d the meeting go?”

You were silent for a moment too long, and Joel pulled the phone from his ear, checking that the call didn’t drop.

 “Well, you’re talking to the new middle grade science teacher, so I’d say it went well.” He could feel the pride in your voice and his heart swelled.

“Congrats, darlin’. I knew you’d get it and you’ll be the best damn science teacher those kids will ever have.” He was already thinking about how lucky Sarah would be to have you as a teacher. Letting his voice go a little deeper, he added, “We should celebrate this weekend. Sarah has two sleepover birthday parties to go to, so we’ll have the house to ourselves. I can take my time in showing you just how proud I am of you, and we can be as loud as we want.”

Your breath audibly hitched on the other end of the phone, causing Joel’s lips to twitch into a smirk. “I’d really like that, Joel,” you breathed, and his jeans suddenly grew tighter.

Adjusting himself as subtly as possible, Joel sighed. “I should go, sweetheart. There’s a ton to do at this site and I’m already looking at a few long days this week. Call JB next. He’s dropping by in a bit, and I don’t want to let something slip that I shouldn’t know yet.”

Sighing deeply into the phone, you said, “Alright, I’ll call him now. We gotta tell him soon, Joel. This is only gonna get harder, you know.”

“I know, sweet cheeks. We will, I promise.” Hearing his name, Joel nodded to one of his crew before saying goodbye. Your sweet voice echoed in his ears as he worked like a dog the rest of the day. JB was a proud papa when he stopped by, bragging about you to anyone who would listen. Guilt gurgled in Joel’s gut knowing the two of you were keeping a secret from the guy, but he pushed it down, pretending that he didn’t know anything about your new job and let JB share the details. The sun set long before he left the site, and he arrived home to find leftovers warming on the stove while you got Sarah ready for bed.

The sight of you walking down the stairs, smiling sweetly at him, set his soul on fire. God, how he longed to be with you all the time, to wake up next to you every morning and come home to you every evening.

“Come ‘ere, my sexy teacher girlfriend,” he greeted softly, pulling you in for a scorching kiss. He wasted no time, tongue dipping into your mouth to tangle with yours. “You’re so beautiful and smart, I’m so lucky I get to call you mine.”

You laughed with a little shake of your head. “I’m the lucky one, Joel. I can’t believe some lucky lady hadn’t snatched you up before I came along.”

Even though he was dirty and probably stunk of sweat from working all day, Joel hesitated to let you out of his embrace. As if sensing his feelings, you nuzzled into him.

“I wish I could stay the night, but I should get back to my dad’s,” you said, reluctantly.

“I know, darlin’. We’ll tell him soon and then you can stay over whenever you want.” Joel walked you out the door, thanking you for taking care of Sarah and cooking dinner. He kissed you a few more times on the way to your car and even ducked down to buckle you in and kiss you one last time before finally stepping back. “I’ll see you in the mornin’. I—”

That pesky little four-letter word had been bouncing around his heart and mind for weeks, even before the two of you decided to give this thing before you a shot, but he hesitated to say it first. He’d never said it and meant it, and to him it was a really big thing that he needed to time just right.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of work for Joel. Business was good, keeping him, Tommy, and a few other guys busier than any of them preferred. It was getting to the point where Joel needed to hire another crew so they could run two jobs at once. Though it was a great thing, making changes to his business always increased Joel’s anxiety. Management wasn’t his forte and he was terrified of screwing something up, but maybe that’s what made him a great small business owner. He was hyper vigilant in both the business and construction side of operations, going the extra mile to make sure things ran safely and smoothly.

The downfall of being so busy was, of course, the complete lack of time to spend with Sarah or you. It made him extra happy to know that Sarah had you to lean on and spend time with while he was busy, though. You were the piece of the support system that Sarah had been missing and seeing the bond between the two of you grow stronger every day warmed his heart to the point of bursting.

Finally, Friday arrived, and Joel busted his ass to get done early, rushing home to shower and setup a little something in the backyard to celebrate you landing your first teaching position. He had the perfect evening planned.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx

@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr

@lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg

@ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby

@deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981

@marirxse @lizzie-cakes @tynakub

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

[darlingofvalyria]

❝You don't think I can please you?❞

part 05 | we're really in it now, darling

chapter summary:

[ Everything comes ahead at a hedge maze because. . . hedge maze. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 4,517 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader, aemond x alys rivers

contains— angst, a lil smutty but no full whorishness, ya'll good - i should really put idiots in love as a tag shouldn't i - nsfw: grinding + some sexy, sexy second base lmao - no kingslayers, no rogues, no betas.

a/n— i hope ya'll forgive me. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

You don't really know what you were expecting come Sunday. Once you started to 'ehh' 'hmmm' and 'maybe's your way through random moments with Helaena after the radio silence from Aemond— your best friend put her foot down.

"Fuck him," Helaena grumbled. "You've been going to Sunday dinners before he was even born, you are not backing down now."

 You snorted. "That's wildly inaccurate."

"Point still stands. Fuck. Him. You deserve my mother's tiramisu cake. He doesn't get to take that from you." Her eyes widen as if trying to instil her determination into your system via eye contact. "You are not going to let him take that from you."

You nodded. That's at least a point to pro you can stand by. Though she can't cook to save her life— Alicent's words, not yours — the woman sure can bake. It became therapeutic for her, she once said. How measuring ingredients and kneading dough to patiently folding cream after another kept her mind quiet and her hands busy.

"My faith strongly does not advise rage shooting, you know?" Alicent once hummed.

"Did you mean 'range' shooting?"

"Oh?" she nodded absentmindedly, smiling. "Yes, that too."

"That's true," you mused. Tiramisu cake was her mother's specialty. Every Sunday, she has all attendees pack up at least one cake per person and you and Hel usually stave off bites throughout the week until the next Sunday comes.  "I deserve some tiramisu cake, gods be damned it."

"Plus, if you come with me, we'll get two cakes to take home instead of one." She wagged her finger. "We count as two separate entities with one fridge, it's our greatest privilege."

"Daeron calls it preferential treatment."

"I am her only daughter, of course I get preferential treatment."

"As you should, bestie."

Even when you've stopped struggling with choosing if you were going or not, your mind is never faraway from thinking about Aemond. You wonder if he's finally gotten back with Alys was a bad train of thought, while an even worse train of thought is how soft his lips were and how he holds your hair to pull you close when his tongue glides across your bottom lip.

You blink, shaken from the thought. Bad. Bad brain. Stop it.

And repeat. At this point, it was safer to think about Alys and Aemond.

According to previous cycles, by this point they'd be at the height of their newly blossomed relationship— all sweet kisses and heated looks, unable to stop touching each other much less act a little bit better when they're trying to leave a group function to fuck their brains out — so you wouldn't be surprised to see come Sunday that he arrives with Alys— both of them tall, gorgeous with just enough undertone of smirky, smarmy tension that would make you want to stab your own eye out — pointedly ignoring you or whatever happened between you and him.

It hurt to think about sure, but what else did you think was going to happen?

That call made a space the size of a puddle that turned into a lake, welled deep with unresolved feelings and untouched topics. More questions than answers, drawing lines both of you were too scared to tug and see.

It's big enough to notice, and both stubborn enough not to anything about it.

You tried. Well, you almost did. In the weird hours of the day when your brain and body are more physically disjointed so rationality gives way to adrenaline. Most of the time, this is during working hours. You, checking your phone, running around his profile with your thumb a few times, biting your lip as your mind blanks and your body fights to call him. Or leave a message.

Before your mind and body reconnects and you fling your phone as far away from you as possible.

It's weird. You've never fought with Aemond before. If this was considered fighting. You've been disappointed in him, gotten angry and annoyed with him, but someone always, always offers an olive branch.

Every time you think about that call, you close up, your annoyance flares, and you shove your phone away.

In your amicable defense, this was primarily his problem. You weren't truly dating. He made it clear every choice he was making was en toward the agreed conditions were of making his ex jealous enough to take him back, yada yada yada.

Even if, possibly, you wanted more, he made no actual steps to make it known that he was considering it too.

Funny stares on your lips don't count. The only sabbatical from sexual adventures Aemond got were the breakup round with Alys, and as established before, they got it on pretty frequently.

Another thought bubble about Aemond's lips pops in your head, the mint from his toothpaste and the coffee from his black with no sugar, no milk, the way he seemed to suckle on your sighs—

Gods. Damn. It.

Focus.

That last call?

You're a grown ass woman. You're allowed to do whatever you want with whomever you want, and you're not going to make Aemond Targaryen's steely silence of what— disappointment? Of your choices? Of your choice in Cregan Stark and Cregan Stark Jr? Of what you were doing? Sure he was faithful to the Seven, a good old religious boy raised by his momma, but it doesn't make him a saint. Just because he's clinging to the vestiges of first love thinking it could very well be his last doesn't make him holy, or warrant enough to judge you for getting your little you some good dick.

Life is hard. Good dick is hard to come by!

So. Yeah. Days leading up to Sunday was radio silence and way too many thoughts circling your head like vultures, eating away at logic and rationality, and stubbornly still, you refused to make contact. If it's not out of pride, it's out of hurt.

Because he could apologise, but Aemond wasn't known for his apologies.

But then you remembered the flowers, the tulips, and now you just felt sad. Moping, getting annoyed, and trying to get through work without breaking your phone speeds the week in a blur.

Come Sunday afternoon, Helaena was coming to pick you up from her shift at the vet— the beauty of having a vet bff is the Russian roulette of pictures; you never know if you're about to get cuddly new patients with big, sad eyes and pouty snouts or her newest c-section win without any attempts of a blur — so you could get to her mother's house together, you decided to go for the nines with your outfit.

A sweet summer dress later, some gold gladiator sandals half off from your favourite but largely can't afford shoe boutique that you swear you were always going to wear to make up for the insane price (thank the gods Alicent didn't have a no shoe policy because it takes fifteen minutes to get them on and you cannot be on the floor, on her house, with Aemond around, rolling around like a hot potato on the entry way trying to get a fucking shoe on), dusted and prepped in you're fancier version of makeup, and was just finishing off your hair— using the good mousse whilst blaring Disney epics — when knocking came.

You freeze.

On one hand, it could just be Helaena, forgetting her keys again somewhere as she had done so numerous times before, but there hadn't been a slew of expletives or her impression of a cool, clinical voice saying, ''Tis I, the Stranger, have come for thee soul! Open up I gotta pee, woman!' so you got a pretty good guess on the alternative, sending your heart into a stutter and get smacked with a well deep of yearning.

You miss Aemond. You miss hanging out with him, even just having him on video call whilst you prepped a late dinner and he's working out his thesis defense, too late for either of you, but catching another's eye in the tiny phone and sharing a comforted grin. You miss being called my lady in a language that means so much to him, miss bumping shoulders and smelling his crisp scent of cologne and laundry.

Miss his lips, his very soft, very delicious lips—

"Gods damnit, woman, keep it together," you murmur to yourself. Another series of knocks, ever patient, and you're moved by body not mind as breathless giddiness yanks the door open—

Only to fall flat.

"Oh." You can't hide your disappointment at the curly blond with the smirk for centuries. "Aegon. I didn't know it was you."

"Yes, the expressive disappointment in your eyes could bring a man on the edge to his downfall, I must say," he jokes hoarsely, a little hurt. "Not even a hi Aeg. I've missed you Aeg, or— hey Aeg! You look good enough to eat!"

It's Aegon. Not Aemond. Or Helaena. Helaena and Aemond's older brother, Aegon. Party rocking, cocaine hiding, sweat and someone's lipstick smelling Aegon. You like him despite his whorishness because he's funny, because he's sweet when he wants to be, and he always, always gets you a funny mug when he comes back from wherever he came from.

You blink a couple of times, laughing awkwardly as you give him a quick hug. He still smells the same, with the lightest tint of sun in him from his days at the beach not so long ago no doubt.

"Sorry, sorry. Hi Aeg, I've missed you Aeg, and yes, you do look good enough to eat, Aeg."

He hugs back tighter, smothering you in the denim jacket he's wearing and the curly edge of his white blond hair. He's got a new piercing and smells of new perfume.

"So do you, princess," he says as you step back and he appraises you appreciatively. "Those shoes can step on me any time."

"I will never."

"You will never," he says chirpily, moving back with a teasing grin. "Let me guess, you were waiting for my uglier version to come by and got too overwhelmed by the majesticness of me."

'"Majesticness isn't even a word." You snort. "And Aemond is not your uglier version, you don't look that alike."

He raises an eyebrow as you blink. Fuck. "Dear me oh my, I meant Helaena, babe. When did Aemond get into the mix?"

You shove his shoulder, huffing as you pick up your keys and bag, forcing him to step back as you lock the apartment, trying to give yourself grace from his burning, teasing stare. "As if Helaena didn't tell you." You finally turn to him, lips pursed at his faux innocent pout. "Helaena tells you everything."

"She might have mentioned a thing or two about a thing or two." He bumps your hip as you both get into the elevator. "Imagine my surprise when Lae-lae tells me of a wondrous development between her two favourite people that involved a breakup, some gift-giving shenanigans, and kissing." He gasps dramatically as you groaned. "I leave for what— a month or two and suddenly you and Aemond are making out? Babe, I must say, you're doing the tongue tango with the wrong brother."

 "He's not the wrong brother, also the tongue tango? Really?" you snap suddenly. The wrong brother comments always irk you because you understand that it's a sensitive issue to Aemond, as well as Aegon himself.

But it's a bait you realise too late because Aegon Targaryen enjoys hauling truths from people in steps and tricks, uncaring if he takes a stab or two to get there as you meet his gaze against the reflective wall, positively smirking.

"Really now?"

"Why are you even picking me up? I thought you were in Oldtown."

"Already sorted. Hel wanted to make sure you get there in time, she's going to be late... After all your earlier ride backed out didn't he?"

Your mouth pursed, annoyance prickling at your edges as the elevator pulled into the lobby. "I don't want to talk about it, where's your car?"

He whistles, languid and all the time in the world on his shoulders with just the hint of smug. "It's a thirty minute ride, babe, you're going to spill."

You shoot him a withering glare. "Not if I have say in it." For emphasis, you yank his door and slam it. Fuck his new Maserati.

"Mature!"

Thirty minutes is more than ample time for Aegon Targaryen to weed his way into your brain like the worst case of earworm (like a stupid ass commercial jingle that just. Won't. Stop) that by the time you reach his mother's, you were ranting.

"—like I get it, saying I'm going out with another guy to get some good dick after confirming that we're going to your mother's for Sunday as a date is bad, but we're not really dating! He said so himself! He pressed the issue of it not being a real thing! And he didn't attempt any—"

"— any communication at all," Aegon echoes, stretching his legs as he stood. "Not a sorry or anything."

"Anything!" you bolster, slamming his door again that is less about him and more about the aggressiveness. "I know that he's bad at apologising, or facing things that are hard, choosing to stew in it and act all shitty to people, I just... I thought he'd at least tell me. Doesn't that warrant our friendship?"

"Hm. Ever think that's precisely why he struggles with you?"

"What does that even mean?"

"That he cares about you, so he struggles more with expressing himself."

You turn to him, cocking your head. "When did you get so wise, oh Gandalf?"

"A Seven focused rehab facility can do that to you," he muses wistfully. "There was this nun that says verses when she orgasms."

You make a face. "Love the fun fact."

"You're welcome. But back to point, isn't the issue also the fact that you never tried to make contact with him either?"

"Well. Yeah. Because..."

Aegon squints at you sympathetically. "Because you're scared of rocking the boat because of how much you like him?"

"Not, well," you hesitate. "Not like that precisely..."

"How much you're capable of liking him?" Aegon smiles wryly. "You had a crush on him, I remembered that at least. When Hel first introduced you to him, you couldn't stop teasing him until he lit up like a Christmas tree. I knew you liked him since then. You called him pretty half the time, and I started to realise it was less about his reaction but how you actually see him, and speaking as the naturally cherub, pretty boy of the family, I find this highly, highly offensive."

You pinch his cheeks, wounding your arm over his shoulder. Aegon was built like a linebacker with less muscles that aren't postern, with wide shoulders and a strong body that's too easy to lean against.

"You're pretty too, Aeg," you coo. "But he's just..."

 "If you say ethereal, I will vomit right in my mother's petunias." He makes a face. "How about this. The problem is that you think Aemond doesn't like you back."

You frown at him. "I know Aemond doesn't like me back."

"Oh, sweetie," Aegon coos, sympathy and pity swirling in his smug, smug smile. "I'm so glad you're pretty."

You pinch his sides until he squirms. "Fuck you, what the hell?"

"What I'm saying is, let's test that, you know? Because that's the only variable you aren't sure with?"

You sigh. "Aeg, even if he does, I'm not going to pounce—"

The door swings open, and there he is, of pretty boy face and good boy posture because his mother raised herself a good, devout boy who doesn't know what a slouch is because he's not an ape— and is he wearing his leather jacket? Of course he's wearing the leather jacket and you know that smell, that spiced cologne with the leather and his natural scent and fuck, Aemond is looking at you, looking at his brother, and the open expression, the shock, that smidge of relief— shutters to an icy politeness.

Aegon because he's Aegon, pulls you closer, his mouth curling into a grin that only says trouble, forcing Aemond to straighten up his already perfect posture in preparation for whatever his brother has in mind and his stare is white-hot on the conjoined appendages between you and his brother— and Aegon lands a wet, smacking kiss on your cheekbone.

"Had to pick up your girl, baby bro, I mean what kind of—" his blue gaze finds his mother descending the stairs, peering out to see on who it was, and you're frozen, waiting for the bomb to drop and simultaneously unprepared for it, "— boyfriend has his brother pick up his girl? Good thing you got a good excuse, huh? Oh, hey mother dearest! Your favourite son has come back!"

As Aegon leaves your side with a cheeky little wink, you bit your lip at the frosty look on his face that makes you feel like an absolute idiot and fills you with rage all in one go. Because Aemond has never looked at you like that, like you were at fault and acting like a child, but that you also want to jut a finger against his chest.

"Did you have a nice talk with him on the drive over?" he says, jaw hard.

"I didn't tell him," you hiss, taking the hem of his leather jacket instead of his hands enough so you can pretend to kiss his cheeks because his mother is right there, eyes wide at that two of you as Aegon gave you a discreet thumbs up.

"Helaena did. Get over yourself, your mother's—"

 "Aemond?"

As he freezes and Alicent calls your name, you plaster the best smile you can make as you twine your fingertips with his.

"Smile."

"Hm."

When you leave his side to greet Alicent, you make sure to stomp on his stupid shoes.

As soon as you've finished your mandatory greetings— even with Otto Hightower, Aemond's grandfather, who merely raised his eyebrows at the apparent new status of you and his grandson, Alicent having to blink multiple times, wrangling positives as she kept shooting her son looks while he stood like a block of ice behind you — Aemond takes your hand by his own volition, tangles your fingers too tight, and starts tugging you along like a bouy.

"Are you a child?" you hiss, trying to pry your hand as insistently without outright yanking, Alicent already sending you both concerned looks at a news that she called 'oh, that is wonderful!'

"I am younger than you," he murmurs back, holding you tight.

"Oh, fuck you."

With a defeated huff, you take longer, heavier strides and stomps so you're the one dragging him.

It's all illusion of control built on pettiness because you're still being navigated, it's more just pride at this point, but you don't care, and when he scoffs right back, you felt at least a pinch of a win.

And then he, of course, matches your strides so fucking easily.

"Freaking horse-legged motherfucker," you mumble. You don't know if he catches it, or you're imaging the soft, surprised noise that's both a snort and a laugh.

He winds you around the hallway, an unbreakable trajectory to the backyard, dragging you past an easy eye view from the dramatic, floor to ceiling windows and trespassing straight into the hedge maze because of course they had one of those.

"Really? Here?"

"Do you want to be ogled up by my mother?" he says in a nauseatingly chipper voice. "Is that what you and Aegon are planning with all this, hm?"

You twist out of his grip, walking deeper on your own until your eyes are swallowed by the darkness. When you turn to him, your eyes adjust, only seeing the silver of his hair, so different from his black leather jacket and dark green jumper. You don't see his expression or his sharp gaze.

"Planned this? Seriously? Nothing since coming here had been planned, Aemond," your voice has bite and if your eyes had adjusted faster, or if you could see better, you would see the flinch he makes, "if it had been, this certainly would be the last of my fucking choices. Or do I have to remind you of the fact that we were supposed to go together? Oh right, things change when you drop a call out of fucking nowhere!"

"I—fuck." He moves around, a hand through his hair as exhales in frustration. "I didn't... think you'd want to go with me. That Sunday plans had been cancelled."

"And you didn't think to message? I mean it's not like we're friends in literally every social media." You try not to sound hurt before taking a deep breath, offering your palms up. "I didn't—don't even know what the issue is, Aemond. Were you so offended that I was sexually active that you just had to rudely drop the call and not talk—"

It's maybe the darkness, or intuition but you can bet half yours savings that Aemond Targaryen is blushing.

"It... gods, no it's not... I wasn't offended that you were sexually active," he says softly, evenly. He clears his throat. "I don't... mind that you're... sexually active. I actively... support it. Even." He coughs. Swallows. Curses.

If you don't feel like your heart is pounding in your throat you would have laughed. You had never seen the boy this flustered before that it's affecting his words, because Aemond has always been the most well spoken person you know.

"Is it about Cregan? Do you have something against Cregan?"

His eye flutter close. "No... and yes."

"I don't understand, Aemy," you whisper, defeated.

He sighs. In the dark, you notice a movement. His hands flex. It's a habit he's had since you've known him. It's instinct. The way you reach out, finding a piece of his leather jacket until you find your way to his hands, running your fingers over the bones and ridges, his sinew and skin. There are callouses from his fencing, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He's frozen first before he sighs, melting through the warmth you share with him.

 "I have nothing against Stark," he finally says. "It's the fact that you were still having sex with him that I found unfair." He steps closer until you can see his face better, the struggle in him can be told through the furrow in his brows and the press of his pillowy lips, red and wet as if he had bitten through it. "I... understand that we're not really together, but I couldn't... not feel as if it wasn't right. As if I wanted it to be me."

His hands finds your arms, eye closing and gently placing his forehead against your own. At first you panic, your body trying to make your brain decide do you like this or not but it's Aemond, and he's warm, gentle, sweet almost. It's familiar and new at the same time. It's warmth you recognise, skin you will know anywhere, but in a way that you've never felt him before.

You close your eyes and breathe with him.

You know that this is rare. That this Aemond is reserved for people he loves and cares about, but with his forehead against yours, with his hands holding you steady, rubbing a comforting thumb over your skin that felt just as for him as it was for you, breathing you in and exhaling you out. A single breath between two bodies.

"I don't know if I can agree to that, Aemy."

"What?" He pulls back, hurt pulling taunt your favourite pair of lips. "Do you like Cregan more? You don't think I can please you?"

"That's not—"

His hands closes on your face, cupping it in his palms as you stare, wide-eyed at the blue fire lit up in his eye. His breath brushes your lips, making them tingle.

"Push me away if you don't want it," he says before his eye closes and he takes your mouth against his own, swallowing your gasp then pulling you away again, eye glinting.

"Push me away, ñuha riña." His voice is so soft, words crisp while your body thrummed in a single, frantic heartbeat. When you don't move, too shock, thoughts tangled, he smirks.

With his teeth, he captures your bottom lip, grazing it. When he feels you shudder, eyes fluttering, he chuckles meanly.

"Push me away as if you don't want me." He tilts your chin up as he looks down on you, eye confident in its lust. His thumb brushes your bottom lip. "As if you don't feel everything I do."

"Fuck you," you manage to exhale as you grab the back of his head and devour him just as you did at the restaurant. He groans, using his other hand to feel your side, pass your one breast, giving it a firm squeeze that makes you gasp, tongue clashing, legs tangling as you push and push and he pulls you to him, his back hitting the prickly hedge. It's teeth and tongue, breaths twisted in one air as you used each other like lifelines, like enemies in a swords match.

It's feverish and passion, infuriating want that gives. Because when you dominate the kiss, tangling his tongue with your own, yanking him down and down as if you want him to reach every part of you inside, he bends and follows. And when he pulls you, tangles your hair and takes every gasp and breath, you surrender.

He groans when you suck on his bottom lip, pulling away just enough to spit out, "You taste so much better than my dreams." His mouth moves down and down, leaving a path of heat as he suckles at your neck, practically ripping the buttons of the top of your dress as he slides down and grunts in pain.

"A-Aemy?" Your eyes flutter. "Your back, shit—"

"Fuck that." He tugs you down until you land with an oomph! on his lap, your chest at his eye level before he drags them back to your gaze. "Tell me to stop."

You shake your head, tangling your fingers in his hair. "No."

"Good."

Your back arches, supported in his hold, as he starts sucking the skin lower and lower, another hand massaging your tit that pools hot down your core until his hand, warm and solid, sinew and bone, and Aemond Aemond Aemond, slides between your bra and cups your breast and his hand is so big, and it feels so good that you start grinding on the hard length you feel right at your—

An ear-splitting shriek freezes the both of you. You and Aemond pull back, hand still on your tit.

"Wha—"

"Ew, ew, ew! Mom said you were fighting! FIGHTING DOES NOT EQUATE FUCKING IN THE MAZE, YOU FUCKING CLICHES!"

TAGGED: @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @microwaveallthedemons @kazuyatokue @herfantastyworldd @averyyreads @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bellstwd @jiminie-08 @ttkttt @nockerin @backyardfolklore @random-ocity @hc-geralt-23 @vendettasblog @cicaspair418 @malynn @anehkael @schadenfreude-and-sarcasm

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan mitchell #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond angst #aemond x reader #hotd angst #aemond x you #hotd fanfiction #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒 #tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ

[thenewausten]

Quackity Imagine: You're losing me.

You and Quackity were dating for a few years now, to be specific, for 5 years now. You both grew up together, learned english together, moved together, wanted to buy a house and get married, wanted to have children together and get older and older together.

But your relationship was getting so... Sad. Gray, with a lot of fights, argues and so much... Anger. You were watching everything you build with so much effort disappear in front of you.

"Alex, I just want to talk!" You say to him, so sad, angry and confused. Why was he being such an asshole?! "I don't 'fuckin want to talk right now, Y/N!" He raises his voice so you can understand. "I'm so tired of seeing your face, give me a 'fuckin time." You can hear the anger in his voice, making your heart aches. "So tired of seeing my face?! How do you want to marry me if yo..."

"I don't want to marry you. You're such a selfish person, why can't you understand that I don't want to 'fuckin talk right now?!" It was better to get hit by a car in your opinion, if your heart was aching, now he's not even on your chest anymore. Alex sees all the damage he caused on you with his words in your eyes full of tears. "Amor, I didn't mean to..."

"Fuck you." You say as you leave his office.

After this fight, Alex promised you he would change and you accepted his apologies when he gave you a beautiful bouquet of roses.

Well, he didn't change.

"You're losing me, Alex! Don't you see it?" You ask him, your voice in pieces, just like your heart. Again. The boy breaks your heart with his anger, with the fights and the way he yells at you and then fixes it with bouquets, apologies and false promises of change just to break it on the next day.

"What do you want me to do, Y/N?" He asks, you know it's your last fight, you can't take it anymore. You're sick of the anger in his voice. "Do something, 'Lex! You aren't doing anything! You're not changing and you promised me you'd do it!" You say, tears on your cheeks as soon as you let it go from your mouth, Alex sighs. "It's not that easy, okay?"

"Yes, but I accepted too much, I can't do it anymore. You're destroying me, Alex." You whisper, more tears rolling from your eyes as the boy looks at you. "I'm so tired of fighting for our relationship while you're sitting behind a 'fuckin desk! You don't even care about my health! You don't even know what's 'happenin in my life and we live in the same apartment, dude!"

"I'm sorry if I'm too busy 'workin so I can give you the best life, Y/N." He says, irritated. "I work too, Alex! Stop being an asshole!" You say, now you're the angry one here. How can he be such an idiot?! "Yeah, but I have to work too. Or will you pay the bills?!"

"So that's the problem?! Do you want me to pay more bills?"

"What the fuck, Y/N?!" He complains. "Don't say it, I don't want you to pay anything."

"You were the one complaining about it! I just want to understand the beginning of the problem!" You say and he sighs. The boy was about to explode, you'd see it. "Alex, say someth..."

"Maybe the beginning of the problem is that I don't love you anymore, Y/N!" He yells, looking into your eyes. Your beautiful eyes. Watching he destroys you completely. "We should break up." He whispers. "But..." You start, but you can't control your sobs.

"I'm sorry, I can't pretend I want to marry you and have children with you. At first I wanted, but..." He shrugs and you sit on the sofa. "Y/N..." You couldn't control yourself, the sadness was so deep in your chest you couldn't even breathe. "I'm sorry, mi vida." He pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead. "You just... I thought we'd be together..." You whisper between sobs. "I know, baby." He whispers, his voice cracks a little when he says it. "I'm sorry."

Alex realised he didn't love you anymore in a random Sunday, when you both went to the beach and you saw a couple with their kids. "Look at us in the future." You'd say to him with a smile on your face. "Yeah, sure." He'd say it, not wanting to have this future... With you.

He didn't know what was 'happenin. He believed it'd pass, but it didn't. Days passed and he couldn't feel what you felt for him. Not anymore. He was losing you and he knew it. He wanted it. He wanted to lose you. All the confusion turns to anger because it's more easy if you start to hate him. You won't suffer so much when he breaks up. But how could you hate the love of your life?!? He was just making you sad, destroying you from the inside to the outside, making you sob every night, scared to lose him.

You gave him so many chances, you betrayed yourself so many times for the past months. Just because you didn't want to break up with him. And then he does it in seconds.

You left the apartment at the next day, not even recognising yourself anymore. You're pure sadness, you didn't know what to do with your life without Alex on it. You didn't want to feel love for someone, like, ever again. You couldn't take another heartbreak.

The boy killed your dreams to get married, to have a family and to build it with so much love. Damn, you couldn't believe it. He lost you and made you lost yourself, your dreams and will to live.

After a few months, Alex discovered that, in fact, the reason why he was being such an asshole with you was not because he didn't love you anymore, it was because he was scared and insecure about his own future.

Damn, he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe he lost you.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy the writing! :)

Requests are open!

#quackity #qsmp #qsmp brazil #quackity imagines #alex quackity #qsmp brasil #quackity x reader #quackity imagine #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #quackity fluff #quackity fanfic #quackity headcannons

[rinkkuma]

rin and his love for horror movies. something you were surprised to find out when you started dating him, but hey, he seems to enjoy them.

you didn't mind watching them with him sure, but some of them have made you have sleepless nights and made you shit yourself. rin of course didn't force you to watch them with him if you didn't want to—but you always insist you'll be a-okay. although you slightly hate horror movies, surely you'll get over the movie eventually, and anything to spend time with him right?

wrong. a new horror movie had just released and rin decided to spend his sunday night watching the movie. unbeknownst to you, the movie was one of the most gut-wrenching, butt-clenching, daunting films released this year. you sigh as you plop down on the couch, unaware about what you're about to get yourself into.

jump scare after jump scare, rin seems to be unfazed, almost like a statue, while your heart pounds out of your chest and you dramatically scream quietly. you begin to wonder how he stays so unfazed. sure, he’s watched a lot of horror movies, but this one seems next level.

“you okay?” rin turns to you with concern in his eyes while pausing the movie to make sure you're fine with continuing on watching.

“y-yeah! i mean, it can't get worse than this right?” he hums, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to give you some sort of comfort, and unpauses the movie.

and it did get worse. you wonder how one even has the imagination to create something this horrifying. trying your absolute hardest to push through and hold in your screams, you settle for snuggling closer to rin, hoping you feel somewhat safer.

he looks down at you response to your actions, and pulls you closer to him, aware that you're terrified. he's been aware since your first scream, but being a little more alert now that you seem even more scared than earlier.

rin thinks you're cute like this. being comfortable enough around him that he's the first thing you come to when you're scared.

after what seemed like decades, the movie comes to an end as you're still taking in everything that had happened in that movie. you have to admit the storyline was great, but god, did they really have to make it scary too?

rin is the one to break the silence. “you know, you don't have to watch scary movies if you want to, right?” he's been mentally noting your reactions from the very first horror movie you watched with him, and it's clear that you hate them, but still continue to watch them with him.

“yeah.. but i get to spend time with you, rinnie.” his eyes widen at your confession, and rubs the back of his neck feeling slightly guilty that you watch them for his sake.

he flicks your forehead in response. “idiot. there's so many other things we could do instead. could've told me from the beginning if you wanted to spent time with me..”

“ow! well, you seem to enjoy them so much, so..” you murmur, you move closer to him, your thoughts still full of the jump scares replaying.

rin pauses and thinks about what you had just said. he's grateful you try to invest into his interests, but if you hate it, he doesn't want you do it at all costs.

without a word, rin picks you up and walks to your shared bedroom. he gently places you on the sheets and pulls the comforter over you before joining you.

he brings you into his chest and hugs you tightly. his warmth immediately washes over you and you feel at peace.

“won't let anything ever hurt you.” he whispers as he places a kiss on top of your head.

you laugh at his somewhat cliché, but sweet statement, but still content with his words. you close your eyes and doze into a deep, comforting sleep in rin's arms.

#blue lock x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #blue lock #blue lock fluff

[diazsdimples]

Some Sentences Sunday!

Tagged by my beloved @daffi-990 and @jesuisici33

Hi, I am a bad person. I started a new WIP. This, to be fair, is gonna be a short, hopefully funny, smut oneshot. Please enjoy this small (long) snippet!

Eddie’s hanging out the washing when he notices it. Just for the record, it’s not like he regularly inspects Buck’s underwear, thank you very much, but he’d felt something tacky on the inside of the flimsy fabric when he’d been about to peg it up, and had investigate like any sane person would do. Eddie’s initial thought is “fucking washing machine, can’t even wash out the laundry powder”, mostly because there’s a white residue under where his thumb was placed moments earlier and there’s been occasions when their black shirts have had clumps of laundry powder still on them despite the tossing about they’ve received in the washer. It’s upon further inspection that something clicks into place. Eddie’s not an idiot. He was a teenaged boy once and by extension is very familiar with what dried come looks like (although his was usually in socks, not underwear). It’s more just what it’s doing in Buck’s underwear that’s got him so confused. Because Buck can’t – he’s not – surely he’s not – Eddie stands in front of the clothesline with Buck’s come-stained underwear clutched to his chest, and decides that it’s lovely weather for an existential crisis. They’re not going through a dry spell, are they? Eddie definitely wouldn’t call it that, they’re still having sex at least three times a week, schedules allowing, but it has been a little busier lately, what with Christopher starting high school and his workload increasing (and by extension Eddie’s workload increasing because he’s apparently been appointed Head Homework Helper even though Buck repeatedly points out that he’s a wealth of untapped knowledge). So not a dry spell, but could be considered water restrictions? It strikes Eddie how tragic his situation truly is. His beloved partner of 6 months resorting to coming in his pants like a randy teenager because Eddie’s 14-year-old son suddenly has to learn algebra. He briefly imagines Buck sneaking into the bathroom and rubbing one out, too worked up to even take his pants off first, before slinking back into the kitchen to help Eddie with dinner and Eddie’s heart fucking clenches. He's been letting his boy down, and now Buck’s resorted to alternative methods of relief. This simply cannot go on. Only problem is, Eddie’s got no idea what to do to fix it. Eddie takes a deep breath and faces the stark truth. He’s going to have to talk to someone about it. Steeling himself, he pulls out his phone and dials the first person he thinks of. “Hen? I’ve got a problem. And you cannot laugh at me.”

No pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @wildlife4life @hippolotamus @puppyboybuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @pirrusstuff @rainbow-nerdss @spotsandsocks @steadfastsaturnsrings @cal-daisies-and-briars @tizniz @disasterbuckdiaz @housewifebuck @wikiangela @evanbegins @buckbuckgoose @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @exhuastedpigeon @smilingbuckley @nmcggg @spagheddiediaz @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove and anyone else who wants to share something!

#may or may not be based on true events #eddie's gonna go through it in this one #to the hilarity of his coworkers #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 buddie #911verse #911 fanfic #usercam

[lightwing-s]

𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: jason todd x female! reader;

summary: jason loves you, always have, but you've always loved someone else. and even when he finds you broken, even when he could just put himself first and finally try to make you his, he decides he'd rather help you be yourself again over getting you in your lowest. he'll heal you up, then make you his.

word count: 1,7k warnings: swearing, quite a lot; depressive thoughts(?)

a/n: i didn't mean to write this, and neither that i'd make it this long. this was supposed to just be be writing something while trying to make myself sleep lol hope you enjoy it while i'll do my best to have part ii of "i want to k__ you" up by sunday ♡.

masterlist requests

that was low. that was the lowest, most painful thing someone had ever done to you. yet, why were you still crying because he left?

years of you life dedicated to a relationship, to somebody you thought was your world. who held your world in his hands. you spent years showing up when he needed it, making sure to be present in all of his greatest accomplishments. you were now living on a tight budget for the past few months and still for god knows how long, because you when fuck it, fuck traditions, you were going to propose to him. only for him to show up tonight, at your favorite restaurant, on the eve of your anniversary, with another girl in his arms, telling you that whatever you two had was now done for.

and you knew you shouldn’t have done it, that you should’ve been a better person, but all logic went past by you, and you begged him, you begged him to stay. you got on your knees in front of who knows how many people, and asked him to not throw it all away. but all he did was look at you, not even in your eyes. he just looked in our direction, with the single most disgusting expression of displeasure, turned on his back and left.

left you a mess, left you broken. left you feeling like the floor you were once standing on, that gave you stability and peace, was suddenly removed from beneath you and you started to fall. fall into god knows where, but somewhere deep, somewhere dark. somewhere you couldn’t imagine ever finding your way out, or ever find happiness again. a place where everyone, every single person, looked at you as those in the restaurant looked at you now, with that look that made you sick.

they were sorry for you, they felt pity. you hated pity. it made you feel stupid.

but oh god you were stupid. you threw the most shameless public display of desperation over a guy who must have clearly never even loved you. a guy who never, for almost five years, asked you how your work had been, or if you liked that movie or that meal, if you were alright. a guy who just waisted your time. you were stupid, pitiful, dumb, an idiot. you deserved those looks and the humiliation. you didn’t deserve shit.

you should have read the signs. you should have listened to your friends. you should have listened when your best friend told you, all the damn time, he treated you like shit. who always told you he could treat you better.

if he saw you, in this state, he’d be so disappointed. he saw you as someone strong, independent, but that was all a lie. all those years you were so dependent, emotionally and physically, on a guy who traded you as quickly as one did a car. honestly? even cars received better treatment by their owners. you were so afraid that jason would find you this way, afraid of what he was going to say. and you knew, whatever it was he voiced out, would be the utmost truth.

so, when you opened the door to your apartment, after letting out what may have accounted for the entire amazon river’s water from crying, and found him there, mouth full of the food you had left in the oven. and then, you felt all the emotions you had been trying so hard to contain, make their way back into your mind.

“y/n, finally! where did you put the hot sau…” Jason started asking, but then he looked at you. “y/n… what happened at your dinner?”

his voice was so soft, so careful, as if he was dealing with a delicate object he could break at any moment. but that was exctly how you felt. and in that moment, you broke. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and dropped to the floor, him rushing after you immediately. you could never lie to jason. never. you couldn’t face him and tell him you were fine, that it was nothing, you couldn’t hold your crying in front of him. your relationship, after all those year, was always so real, so full of trust, that lying to him was a locked possibility.

face buried on your knees, arms holding yourself tight, your body shook and you let out loud sobs that left him terrified. whatever happened, wasn’t some silly thing that had bothered you at work, wasn’t some foolish fight you had with your asshole of a boyfriend. it was big. it had you crying, and you fucking never cried. brainstorming all thee possibilities he could only imagine something bad had happened to a family member, or… what day was it today?

“y/n…” he called you, once he felt you body calming down a little. “what did he do?”

you could hear the anger on the way his voice trembled while he spoke his question. you could feel it in the way his jaw clenched on top of your head, and how he held you even tighter in his arms. “h-he found someone else”

no he didn’t. that piece of shit didn’t dump you on your fucking anniversary, did he? jason’s anger was up the walls. he was off of killing people but he could make an exception. just for you. he just need one word, one nod of your head, and that idiot would be gone in less than a minute. nobody, not a single fucking soul in this world, who have the privilege of living if they ever hurt his girl. but who was he kidding, you were never his.

you followed your answer with silence, letting your own words sink in. letting the fact that you were now all alone, fill you up. it didn’t feel real. it shouldn’t be.

“he’s just out of his mind” you tell him, abruptly standing up. “he’s just… he didn’t, he wouldn’t”. you tried to think of excuses. something that would explain his actions. he was bewitched, or his parents forced him. they never seemed to like you now that you think about it.

“y/n…”

“i just need a shower. i’ll be alright” drying your tears, he watched you run to your bathroom still from the floor. he knew you were in denial, that it’d take long for you to fully understand what happened. your life had always been crafted out with perfection, dating all your life’s accomplishments on your own personal timeline, and now part of it was ruined. the part that included building a family, having kids, all ruined because of an selfish son of a motherfucking bitch that had decided he was too good for you.

nobody was too good for you. you’re the one that is too good to anybody. not even him. no, he could never deserve you. no matter how much he loved you, all those years in secret, he could never be enough for you.

jason couldn’t begin to explain how much he loved you and how much seeing you in this state brought him so much pain, so much hurt. so much anger. it was like his heart was the one breaking, his own life that had been shattered. he was sure he’d never felt this much pain in his life, and he had fucking died before.

but he couldn’t tell you he loved you right now. not when you were in this much pain, and so vulnerable. he didn't want to take advantage of your situation, nor he didn't want to confuse you even more. and yet, he felt so desperate to tell you anything, like he was going to combust if he didn't do something.

throwing his common sense away, throwing everything he thought sensible out of the window, he busted into your bathroom.

the foggy glass that lead to you shower made only your silhuete visible, yet he could see your head hanging low as you stood under the warm water. carefully, he got closer and saw your shoulders shaking, and the quiet sniffing sounds of your cries. you're clearly not going to be okay.

you didn't notice him enter your bathroom. nor did you notice it when he slid in the shower box with you. you only noticed his presence when his strong arms wrapped around you bare waist and held the nape of your neck. wrapping your arms tightly around him in return, you bury your face on his soaked t-shirt, muffling the sound of your cries, stopping them from getting any louder.

you are thankful to have him by your side. jason must’ve been the only person in this world that made you feel a hundred percent comfortable with yourself, be it wearing comfy clothes and no make up around him, be it crying over the last puss in boots movie, or being a naked mess crying into his chest. you shouldn’t have been afraid of his reaction, but you aren’t anymore. as he caressed your hair and blew small kisses behind your ear, you let him help you forget. you let him try and take the pain away. even if, deep down, you know that right now, you won’t go so far.

jason was the best friend you never would've guessed you deserved. he was always there by your side. he held you up when your couldn't keep standing anymore. and he soothed your cries and calmed your heart.

“he didn’t deserve you” jason stated, whispering in your ear. “he never deserved ever laying his eyes on you. or touching you. he never deserved”.

"i don't know" you cried out.

"you will" he said against you hair. "i'll teach you".

jason was ready. now he was ready to wait days, weeks or months. hell, he’d even wait years. he’d wait a life time for you to heal.

he'd collect all the pieces of your broken heart, and glue them all together for you. he'd teach you to love yourself again, that you don't need anybody else to be happy with if you have yourself. and him. he'd help you, teach you, to be yourself again.

and then, once you’re healed, once you’re back to being the you he always love and cared for. then, he'd try to make you his.

.

alright this was unexpected lol

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd scenarios #jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood smut #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #red hood angst #red hood fluff

[wannab-urs]

Title: Scotty Doesn't Know

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Summary: Scotty doesn't know you're hooking up with Dieter

Tags: songfic, smut, infidelity, dieter is a loser, scotty doesn't really deserve this he's just annoying, crack taken seriously, porn with the barest of plots, barely edited. WC: 2.8k

A/N: the song came on and I thought it would make a funny dieter fic? I'm shadowbanned and marked explicit rn, so lemme earn it with this gratuitous smut fic.

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Scotty doesn't know that [Reader] and me

Do it in my van every Sunday

She tells him she's in church but she doesn't go

Still she's on her knees and Scotty doesn't know

–

The parkin' lot, why not?

It's so cool when you're on top

Dieter: Here 8=D

You slip out of the church, the preacher just getting started, and head to the back of the parking lot. Dieter’s beat up old VW bus, affectionately called “The Van,” is nestled between two big pickup trucks. Even if Scotty drives by the church, there’s no way he’ll see that Dee is here. 

You pull open the side door, cringing at the loud rattle. Dieter is completely naked, laid out in a suggestive pose and smirking at you. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Dieter.”

“But I’m cute. Get in here!” 

You clamber into the van and roll the door shut behind you before sitting on the old beat up mattress beside Dee. He plucks at the thin straps of your sundress. 

“I like this, baby. It’s pretty. Take it off.” 

You roll your eyes at him but strip your dress off anyway. You ditch your panties while you’re at it and kick both your sandals into the very back of the van, before sitting back down on your knees beside Dieter. He pulls you in for a sloppy kiss with way too much tongue, and you shriek and slap his chest. 

“Quiet! You wouldn’t want Scotty to find out…” he waggles his eyebrows at you. 

You push him so that he falls flat on his back and straddle him. He slips his hand between your legs, dragging his thick fingers through your slick and then pushing one inside to the knuckle. The chunky ring on his middle finger digs into your labia. 

“Ow Dieter, your fu- fucking ring is stabbing me.” 

“I’m not taking it off.” Dieter pumps his finger into you just to emphasize his point and you whimper. 

“I actually can’t stand you. It’s gonna bruise,” you whine.

“Not like Scotty goes down on you enough to ever see it.” 

You roll your eyes at him, but he has a point. You’re the only one who will know, and you’re not necessarily opposed to having Dieter’s mark on you as long as Scotty won’t find out. Instead of answering him, you lean forward and kiss him. Dieter adds his middle finger, curling his fingertips against your walls and fuck it feels good. 

You suck Dieter’s bottom lip into your mouth and pull back, nipping his lip before you separate from him completely. “Lemme ride you.” 

“Fuck yeah!” Dieter pulls his fingers out of you and slips them into his mouth as you line up with his cock. You sink down on him slowly, pressing your hands into his chest. Dieter’s head drops back onto the mattress when you bottom out. “It’s so cool when you’re on top,” he breathes, palming both of your tits. 

“It’s so cool when you shut up,” you retort, but some of the bite is lost in how breathless you sound. You lift up on your knees, letting him slide almost completely out of you before you drop back down. Dieter grabs your hips and forces you to roll them forward, dragging your clit along the coarse hair at his base. You let your head fall back between your shoulder blades. Let Dieter drag you back and forth on his cock until you can’t hold in your whimpers anymore. He’s so deep inside you, grinding into your g-spot, it’s not long before you feel your cunt flutter around him, feel yourself soak him with your slick. 

“That’s right baby, come on my cock,” he smirks at you. 

“You know, you don’t have to speak,” you say, pulling yourself off him. 

“Wait! I didn’t get to come yet,” Dieter pouts at you. And god help you, it’s too adorable to resist. His plush bottom lip sticking out and his big brown eyes welling with undoubtedly fake tears. 

You get situated between his thighs and take his dick in your hand. He looks extremely relieved, as if not coming would have been the end of the world. You lick a stripe from his balls to his tip, eyes never leaving his, and he whimpers, still pouting a little. You roll your eyes at him and suck him down to the root. He tries to buck into your mouth, but you pin his hips down and set your own pace. 

You cup his balls in your hand, rolling them gently as you suck him off. He rests his hands on the back of your head, not pushing or pulling you, just wanting to touch you. 

You really need to get back inside before the preacher wraps up his sermon, so you slip one finger behind his sack and press it into his perineum. Even indirect stimulation to his little bundle of nerves drives him insane, and his grip on the back of your head tightens as he comes down your throat with a strangled cry. 

“Fuck! Fucking fuck fuck fuck.” 

You pull off him with a pop, swiping your thumb across your bottom lip to make sure nothing spilled out. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Dieter sighs. 

[Reader] says she's out shopping

But she's under me

And I'm not stopping

“I’m at the mall. I’ll see you later, okay?” 

“Sure thing, babe. Love you!” Scotty hangs up before you even have to answer him. You shove your phone in your pocket and knock on Dieter’s apartment door. 

You hear a weird amount of shuffling and banging around before the door opens. Dieter’s hair is a complete wreck, his ratty green robe is hanging open to reveal nothing underneath, and eyes are still bleary with sleep. 

“It’s 3 in the afternoon. Did you just wake up?” 

“Yes. Now get in here,” Dieter grabs your hand and pulls you into his apartment. He slams the door shut and continues dragging you by the wrist until you’re in his room. His bed, or rather his mattress on the floor, is unmade… but at least it has sheets on it. 

Dieter doesn’t waste time stripping your clothes off of you, tossing his own robe into the pile on the floor. “So where are you today?” He asks as he kisses your neck, walking back toward the bed. 

“The mall,” you tell him as you sink down (way down) onto the bed and pull him on top of you. 

“Won’t you need shopping bags for that lie?” Dieter asks, dragging his aquiline nose down your throat, between the valley of your breasts, and kissing your belly. 

“He won’t notice,” you sigh, putting your hands in his messy hair and pushing his head down between your legs. You’re already wet, just from seeing him naked at the door, as much as you hate to admit it. 

You’re really not sure what it is about this loser that turns you on so much. It’s probably his massive dick and pretty face – two things Scotty is not in possession of. 

Dieter licks a stripe through your folds and moans at the taste. You love how much he loves to eat you out. Dieter pulls your legs over his shoulders and buries his face between your legs, stuffing his tongue in your cunt and grinding his nose into your clit. You tug on his hair and he whines into your skin. 

He pulls back and nips your thigh. “Dieter! Don’t–” He plunges two fingers into your cunt, cutting off the reprimand. His ring nestles right up to the bruise he left the other day and it hurts, but you like it. 

“Don’t make a mark,” Dieter mocks. “I know, baby.” He places his lips over your clit and sucks on it in time to the thrust of his fingers. You fucking love his mouth, tell him as much with a long groan of his name. He curls his fingers into your walls, nibbles lightly on your clit. You arch your back and pull his face into you by his hair as you come, cunt clamping down on his fingers. He works you through it, gently massaging your g-spot until your body relaxes. 

“Fuck, Dieter.” 

“That’s the idea, babe.” Dieter pushes your legs off his shoulders and climbs on top of you. He rests his weight on one arm by your head and hitches your thigh over his hip with the other. His hard cock runs through your soaking pussy a few times before his head catches on your entrance and he slides in to the hilt. 

His head drops to your shoulder and he shudders out a breath. “Always feel so good, baby.” 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him tight to you as he starts rolling his hips. One of your hands slides up into that tousled mess of hair on his head and the other clings tightly to his shoulder. 

You tilt your head back, giving him space to kiss your neck as he ruts into you. Filthy, drawn out moans spill from your lips every time he bottoms out. His only sounds are little grunts of exertion, muffled by your skin. 

He drops your thigh and sits up on his knees, pulling you into his lap. He wraps his hands around the underside of your thighs and pushes your knees up toward your chest. “Gonna fuck you for real now, baby. Gonna make you scream my name.” 

You’d roll your eyes at him, but you know he’s right. He pushes back inside you, giving you a second to adjust to the new angle, and then he starts slamming his hips down into you. He’s hitting something so deep, you know you’ll be feeling it tomorrow. 

Maybe that’s his goal. 

You dig your nails into his shoulders, dragging them down his back as he absolutely rails you. (He doesn’t have a girlfriend to hide the marks from). “Oh GOD, Dieter. FUCK.” You curse as he bottoms out again and again. 

His curls are sweaty with exertion and hanging over his forehead, bouncing with every thrust of his hips. You focus your eyes there as you feel your entire body tense up. He drops one of your legs and leans forward, crashing his mouth into yours just as you come on his cock. The tight squeeze of your cunt around him sends him over the edge and you feel his hips stutter as he comes inside you with a groan. 

He collapses onto the bed beside you and drags you into his arms, not even bothering to clean you up. You curl up on his sweaty chest and he nuzzles his face into your hair. 

“So what time do you have to be done ‘shopping?’” 

“Too soon.” 

I can't believe he's so trusting

While I'm right behind you thrusting

[Reader]'s got him on the phone

And she's trying not to moan

It's a three-way call and he knows nothing, nothing

Your phone rings not even a full minute after Dieter makes you come all over his face. You flail your arm out to the side until your hand hits the bedside table, fumbling around for the device.

It’s Scotty.

“Hey baby!” you answer in a probably-too-chipper tone. 

“Hi, babe. What are you up to?” Scotty asks. Dieter signals for you to put the phone on speaker, which you don’t do. 

“Oh just reading. How was your day?” Dieter grabs your hips and flips you over on the bed, so that you’re lying on your stomach. You suppress the yelp that almost falls from your lips. 

“Put it on speaker,” Dieter growls in your ear. “Or I’ll make this even harder for you.” You feel yourself get even wetter despite your annoyance. 

You put the phone on speaker and listen to Scotty continue to ramble on about his day. Dieter pulls your hips backwards until you’re on your knees. He drags his fingers through your very wet core and strokes his dick a couple times. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Scotty that su-ucks,” you stutter as Dieter sheathes himself inside you. 

“You good babe?” Scotty’s tinny voice filters out of your flip phone. 

“Yeah! Just choked on my own spit…” 

Dieter snorts and you shoot a glare over your shoulder at him. He smirks at you, drawing his hips back and sliding back in slowly. He’s not dumb enough to cause your skin to slap together, but he is a fucking idiot for doing this in the first place. 

Scotty keeps rambling on about some asshole customer at the Dairy Queen he works at, and you bite back a moan as Dieter grinds his hips against your ass, pressing his cock in deep. 

He grabs your hair in his fist and pulls so that your head is tipped back and starts fucking into you at a steady pace, stopping just short of bottoming out so that the only noise is the wet drag of him through your core. 

“What’s that weird sound in the background?” 

“Huh?” Your body tenses with anxiety, but it just causes you to tighten around Dieter and fuck if it doesn’t feel good. 

“There’s like, a weird noise I don’t know.” 

“Probably just my cat, babe.” Dieter snorts again, but you can’t really do anything about it in your current position. You decide to stop worrying so much and enjoy yourself. 

You drop down to your elbows and push your ass higher in the air. The change in angle has his cock brushing your g-spot on every thrust and you bite your pillow to muffle any noises you don’t manage to hold back. 

Dieter fucks you as hard as he can without making too much noise – he doesn’t really want you to get caught, after all. Half the fun is cucking Scotty. 

“Okay babe, I gotta get back to work. See you later?” Scotty drones.

“Later!” You manage to choke out before scrambling to flip your phone shut. The second it’s closed, you toss it on the floor and let out a loud moan. Dieter finally starts fucking you like he wanted to in the first place, and the loud slapping of his hips against your ass fills the room. 

You come with a scream, burying your face in your pillow and thrusting your hips back to meet Dieter’s. He fucks you through it and doesn’t stop. He keeps thrusting deep inside you, hitting something that has you screaming into your pillow. He doesn’t stop fucking you until you come again, and only then does he follow you over the edge. 

He pulls out and spreads your ass cheeks, watching his cum drip from your hole, then he drapes himself over your body and whispers in your ear. “Was that your first three way?” 

You’re so fucked out you can’t be mad at him, which was probably his goal. You giggle deliriously. “Mmhmm.” You drop all the way down to the bed, sprawling out. Dieter wiggles in close to you and wraps his arms around you. 

His front lawn in the snow

Life is so hard 'cause Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

I did her on his birthday

It’s Scotty’s birthday. So really, you should be by his side. Instead, he’s inside getting wasted with his friends, and you’re in his side yard… getting railed by Dieter. 

Dieter has you against the house, your long skirt pinned above your hips, and one leg hitched around his waist. His lips are attached to your neck and you should really tell him to stop before he leaves a mark, but you don’t want him to. 

He snaps his hips into you rapidly and you brace yourself on his shoulders and rock your hips to meet his thrusts, panting into the frozen air. 

“It’s cold as fuck, Dieter, hurry.” 

“You fucking hurry.” He slips his hand between your bodies and starts rubbing your clit. 

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you whine. You’re so fucking close to coming – just a couple more minutes like this and you’d be clenching on his cock. But life doesn’t always work out that way. 

The sound of the back door slamming causes both of you to jump and your foot slips out from under you. Both of you go crashing to the icy ground, Dieter landing on top of you. 

“What the fuck is going on out here?” Scotty asks, clearly pissed. 

“Oh SHIT!” Dieter starts to try to come up with some bullshit excuse, but you just scramble to your feet and take off running to the front yard. Dieter follows close behind you, dragging his pants up as he runs. 

You throw the side door of his van open and jump in as Dieter hops in the front seat. Scotty makes it to the curb right as Dieter peels away. You slam the door shut and fall back on the mattress. Dieter glances back over his shoulder, a big goofy grin on his face. 

“So I guess Scotty knows.” 

I hope you enjoyed this truly ridiculous fic <3

#Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo fics #Dieter Bravo fan fiction #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #The Bubble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[redhood414]

Part 1: The Games

(Y/n POV)

In the kingdom of Metropolis everything was peaceful and quiet. It was a Sunday afternoon with the sun shining bright and a gentle breeze, birds chirping and talking. I was reading a book in the royal garden, about some forbidden love. Give me a book and I'm lost. After a good while of being deep in my book I notice footsteps and look up to see my father, Clark Kent, king of Metropolis approaching me.

"Y/n, my sweet daughter of mine. How are you today?" He asks as he sits beside me, peering with curiosity at the book I was reading. "I'm doing just fine, father, what about you?" I ask with a smile, I love my father a lot. He and mother, Lois Kent, the Queen, are the best parents I could ever wish for. No one can replace them. They've always been so kind and patient with me;even if sometimes, I am trouble.

"Likewise, my child. But I need to talk to you about something. It's important." He says with a serious tone and expression, showing that it really is no kidding what he's going to tell me next. "You can tell me, father. I'm listening." I say as I close my book and focus my eyes and attention to him. "So...you know how the kingdom of Gotham is an ally, right?" I nod. I know about Gotham, the King is there are Bruce Thomas Wayne and his wife and Queen is Selina Wayne. They have four sons: Dick Grayson, the eldest, Jason Todd, the second eldest, Tim Drake, the second youngest and Damian Wayne is the youngest and the only one who's biological. The rest is adopted. "Well. Since soon you'll be turning 18 and finally be an adult, it means you'll need to marry ...-", my eyes widen and I stand up immediately. "Father, no! I'm not going to marry one off his idiotic sons!" My father glares as those words leave my mouth. How could I say such a thing? Well I'm not lying. Most of those sons are practically imbeciles.

"Y/n! Watch your mouth and show some respect! We owe that to the Wayne family, so your hand in marriage will be great for the future. His sons will have to win a few games to win your hand. End of discussion." And by that, he gets up and leaves, leaving me with sadness, knowing my freedom will be taken soon.

(Dick Grayson POV)

Sunny Sunday! Ah what a beautiful day to see- "GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE BRAT!" My brother, Jason runs past me, chasing my youngest brother, Damian, snickering. Oh dear. I was going to say what a nice start of the day, but I take that back. It's always chaos here. The personal advisor of the king, Alfred, watches them with a sigh and a stoic expression. Tim joins us at the breakfast table soon, almost falling asleep. "Gentlemen. If I may be so straightforward I would watch your manners." Tim raises an eyebrow and I look with curiosity at Alfred. "What do you mean, Alf?" I ask and Jason smacked Damian's head as he finally catches him and sits down. "Well,", Alfred continues as he watches from the side the dinner being served. "One of you will be marrying princess Y/n of Metropolis." I choke on my food and Jason spits out his water. "I'm sorry, WHAT?!" Jason asks with a horrified expression. Damian joins the confusion. "Pennyworth, I hope you're joking. My brothers, and by that I mean especially Drake, is incapable of being that charming to win a princess over" Tim gave him a glare.

"There will be a few games you have to win to win her hand in marriage. King Clark signed a contract because he owes that much of a favor to King Bruce. King Bruce helped him in times of need and now it's time he repays our king." I was speechless. When was dad going to tell us this? What does she looks like? What's she like? Is she mean? Pretty? Kind? It got my curiosity to say the least. "What's she like and what does she look like thought?" Tim asks and Damian huffs while he mutters. "I was about to ask that."

"You'll meet her soon enough, but from what I've heard she's a kind and gentle soul, good for your...chaotic characters." Alfred says carefully and Jason rolls his eyes. "We're not chaotic." And Damian adds. "Oh yeah? You're the one all being sensitive. One comment and the castle's too small."

And there goes the arguing again...and so is my imagination flowing of what the princess looks like and what's she like. Is she really as gentle and kind as Alfred says? Or is there more behind that description of his?

#dc universe #batfam #damian wayne #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x reader #royalty #prince x princess

[engie-ivy]

In short: Wolfstar And They Were Roommates Coffee Shop AU Idiots in Love

Marlene meets Remus, who's looking for a new place to live, as he can't deal with his feelings for his roommate anymore. So when Marlene’s coworker Sirius tells her that his roommate is moving out, it seems like a good idea to bring him into contact with Remus. Marlene may have missed something, though.

And They Were/Are/Will Be Roommates

Remus had been nervous for this moment. He’s usually not very good at talking to strangers, but he knows that if he wants to be considered for the room, he’s going to have to get along with the other tenants. Remus had responded to an add from the girls living in the house, looking for a new roommate now that one of them has moved in with her boyfriend. Miraculously, they’ve invited Remus over for an initial meeting.

His nerves only increased when he saw the girls.

They’re the cool, confident kind of girls whom Remus would’ve admired from afar, but never would’ve dared to talk to. The redhead with her captivating emerald eyes, the tall blond with her edgy style, the petit brunette with her feisty attitude. It triggered a lot of Remus’ old insecurities. He was half expecting these beautiful girls to laugh in his face upon realizing this awkward, weird guy thought he could be their new roommate.

But to his surprise, they seem to be hitting it off.

The conversation flows easily, and before Remus knows it, they’re all talking animatedly. Remus is drawn to Lily’s kindness, Marlene’s sarcasm, and Mary’s cheerful energy. They, in return, seem to appreciate Remus’ dry wit. They chat about their degrees, jobs, hometowns, favourite books, and whatnot.

“So, Remus,” Marlene says at some point. “Why are you actually looking for a new place to live?”

“Oh, it’s just...” Remus averts his eyes and shrugs. “Roommate issues.”

Mary scrunches up her nose. “Bad roommates are the worst. What do they do? Leave their dishes in the sink?”

“Sing in the shower?”

“Leave their hair in the drain?”

“Or dirty socks in the living room?”

“Play loud music late at night?”

“Let you do all the cooking?”

“Leave mouldy food in the fridge?”

“Sneak into your room late at night and watch you sleep?”

“What? No! No, none of that.” Remus runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, yeah, he does sing in the shower, but I kinda really like that about him? He sounds so happy and carefree when he’s singing just for himself. We actually put on this terribly corny music while doing the dishes together, and sing along really loudly. It almost makes doing the dishes the best part of the day! True, he’s not the best cook, so I usually take it up, but he’ll make me my favourite tea every morning, exactly the way I like it. And on Sunday, he’ll get up early to go to the bakery and get me fresh cinnamon buns for breakfast. He’s just so kind, and he always knows how to make me smile, and that’s... Well, and that’s just the fucking problem, innit?” Remus let’s out a deep sigh. “You see, I’ve gone and fallen head over heels in love with him.”

Mary looks thoughtful. “So the problem actually is that he doesn’t sneak into your room late at night?”

Remus chuckles, but then shakes his head. “I’ve never been very good at self-care, but I can’t keep living in the same apartment as him, being around him all the time, while he’s just there being this stupidly amazing person.”

Lily gives him a sympathetic smile. “That does sound like a mental health liability.”

The girls exchange a look. Then turn back to Remus.

“Shite, we were hoping you’d be an arse,” Mary sighs.

“You see,” Marlene says. “This girl we know, Dorcas, she’s just gotten out of an abusive relationship, and she’ll be kicked out on the street. She has nowhere to go, so we have actually just decided she can have the room...”

“We’re very sorry,” Lily adds.

“Not at all!” Remus quickly says. “I understand. Sounds like she needs it more than me.”

“We do really like you,” Mary assures him. “We totally should hang out again!”

“Yes,” Lily agrees. “We may not be able to give you a new place to live, but we can give you new friendships!” She cringes. “Oh god, did that sound as lame to you as it did to me?”

Remus laughs. “It kinda did, but I agree! It would be great if we ‘can still be friends’.”

Marlene snorts, but then she notices the time. “Oh shite.” She jumps to her feet. “It’s that late already? I’ve got to go! I said I’d jump in with the midday shift. It was lovely to meet you, Remus. I’ll keep an eye out for anyone having a room available. And of course, I hope to see you again soon,” she says, while already rushing out the door.

“It is indeed later than I thought,” Lily says, turning to Remus. “Would you like to stay for lunch, or is your roommate expecting you?”

“No, he’s at work,” Remus replies. “So I’d love to stay!”

“And how’d you like your coffee?”

Sirius’ voice sounds flat, monotone.

The customer leans on the counter. “I’d like it hot, please.” He eyes Sirius up and down. “Quite like my barista.”

“One hot coffee coming up,” Sirius says, giving no reaction to the customer’s obvious flirting, his face an impassive mask.

Sirius makes the coffee like a robot. “Here you go.” He sounds like a robot too. “Would you like anything to eat with that?”

“No thank you, darling. The eye-candy is more than enough for me.”

“That’ll be one pound seventy-five, please.”

The customer blinks. He pays, and walks away, looking rather dejected.

“Sirius!” Marlene hisses, dragging Sirius to the side as the lunch rush dies down a little. “Even if you’re not into it, can you at least be kind to the customers flirting with you? You know that eighty percent of our tip jar depends on you being cute!”

“I’m sorry, Marls,” Sirius sighs. “I’m just... really not feeling it today.”

Marlene eyes him. “What is with you?

“It’s my roommate,” Sirius mumbles, looking at the floor.

“Ah,” Marlene sits down on the counter. “Another instalment of Pining Sirius and the Cute Roommate. How did he turn your brain into mush this time? Sweaterpaws? Giggling the whole time while trying to tell a joke? Biting his lip while thinking? Ranting about his favourite book for an hour? Wearing your jacket?”

“He’s moving out.”

“Shite.”

“Shite, indeed,” Sirius wholeheartedly agrees.

“Are you gonna be in trouble with rent?” Marlene asks, concerned. “You know that Alice just moved in with Frank, and we’ve actually been interviewing potential new roommates. There were some great people that we couldn’t pick. I can give you their contact information so you can-”

“Rent’s fine,” Sirius interrupts. “It’s just... I really liked living with him, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Marlene says softly. “I know.”

“I know we���re only roommates,” Sirius says. “And it was always going to be temporary, but... Fuck, Marlene. He just felt like home.”

“Do you know why he’s moving out?” Marlene asks.

Sirius shakes his head. “He won’t tell me. Which just confirms my suspicion that it must be something I did.”

A customer just walked up to the counter. “Excuse me, you’ve made my coffee wrong, it’s-”

Sirius puts his head in his hands and exclaims “Why do I always have to ruin everything?”

The customer gives a start. “I mean, it’s not that bad. I just... never tasted coffee with salt instead of sugar before. It’s... an acquired taste, that’s all.” He puts five pounds into the tip jar before slowly backing away.

Marlene makes a mental note that she should really remember that for next time a customer comes to complain, before she grabs Sirius’ arm and drags him to the back. She sits Sirius down on a chair and notices to her horror there are tears glistening in his eyes.

“None of this!” Marlene says firmly, placing her hands on her hips. “You listen to me. If he doesn’t tell you what the fuck his problem is, then it’s nothing you can fix, and then it’s not your fucking fault! Besides, you are much too cute to be crying over some guy.”

Sirius gives her a weak smile, that looks all but convincing.

Marlene pinches the bridge of her nose. “You know what, no. I’m not going to let you wallow in self-pity, so here’s what were going to do. The girls and I just interviewed this super nice guy today. Unfortunately, our free room had just been taken, but that’s good news for you! He can be your new roommate, and help you get over the old roommate. Sirius, this guy is super cute, like, you won’t believe.”

Sirius doesn’t look very enthusiastic. “I highly doubt a new roommate who isn’t him is going to help me much, no matter how cute he is. But I suppose I am going to need someone to chip in with the rent, so I might as well give your guy a chance.”

“I’ll set up a meeting,” Marlene promises, before pulling Sirius into a hug. “I know it sucks right now, but you’ll be okay.”

A few days later, Marlene has the closing shift together with Sirius, and after they’ve locked up the coffee shop, they go to Marlene’s place together. Mary’s got a date, and Lily will be in the library studying until late, so Marlene has invited Remus over to meet Sirius.

Sirius is still down and uncharacteristically quiet. From what Marlene has heard, things have been rough between Sirius and his roommate these last few days. His roommate hasn’t found a new place yet, but while still living with Sirius, he seems to be trying to avoid him. It hurts Sirius, and the atmosphere between them has gotten tense.

Looking at Sirius now, Marlene starts to doubt whether this was such a good idea. She was hoping Sirius and Remus would distract each other from their love-sickness, and find support in each other as fellow-sufferers, but now she fears they’ll just bring each other down to wallow in their shared misery. She really hopes she’s not accidentally creating the most depressing household ever.

“He should be here soon,” Marlene says, once she has sat Sirius down on the couch with a drink.

“Mmm,” is Sirius’ only response.

“Could you... try to look a little pleased to meet him once he gets here?”

Before Sirius can answer her though, the doorbell rings.

“Ah, there he is. Be friendly,” Marlene reminds Sirius, before walking into the hallway to open the door.

“Hi! Glad you could make it!”

“Of course,” Remus smiles. “I’m glad you thought about me.” He sighs, and Marlene notices that he looks tired, like he’s had a rough few days. “I really do need to get out of that apartment.”

“Well, come on!” Marlene says, taking his arm and dragging him towards the living room, where Sirius gets to his feet the moment they enter.

“So this is him,” Marlene tells Remus. “The guy who needs a new roommate, as his current one will be moving out. He’s been pining after that guy long enough anyhow, so I’d say time to move on,” she adds with a chuckle. Then she turns to Sirius, who’s staring at Remus wide-eyed. “And this is the guy I’ve been telling you about! The one who needs a new place to live, because he might have accidentally caught feelings for his current roommate, and it’s starting to mess with his head.”

“Sirius!”

“Remus?”

“You two know each other?”

“Yeah,” Sirius says slowly, not taking his eyes off Remus. “He’s my roommate.”

“Well, that was decided quickly! I thought you would’ve needed some more time to get to know each other and-”

“No,” Sirius interrupts. “He’s my current roommate.”

“Oh. Oh.” Marlene looks from Sirius to Remus and back. “Please tell me you don’t have a third roommate you’re now finding out you’re both desperately in love with?”

“No,” Sirius says slowly, still only looking at Remus. “It’s just the two of us.”

“You’re in love with me,” Remus suddenly says.

“You’re in love with me,” Sirius says.

“You’re in love with each other!” Marlene says, clapping her hands in delight. “This is perfect! You were both pining! After each other! And now you can stop! And even better, now no one has to move! Let’s be honest, moving is the worst. Really, it seems like you’re-” She looks at Sirius and Remus again. “-like you’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

Sirius and Remus are looking at each intently, their gazes locked, Remus’ mouth slightly opened, Sirius’ pupils blown wide.

“I... should probably give you a moment,” Marlene says, slowly moving back towards the door. Right before she closes the door, she sees how they practically pounce at each other, Remus wrapping his arms around Sirius’ neck, Sirius wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist, their bodies pressed flush against each other, and their lips crashing together, which they’ve probably both been waiting a very long time to do.

“And as it turned out, they were roommates!” Marlene concludes the story, before pouring herself another glass.

She and Mary are sitting on the couch drinking wine, while Marlene has been recounting the whole story.

Mary gasps. “Oh my god, they were roommates!”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #marlene mckinnon #roommates #coffee shop au #idiots in love

[sunlightmurdock]

Admiral kazansky finding sub Rosa! reader’s positive pregnancy test lying around and going apeshit on Bradley but Bradley didn’t know cause she hadn’t told him yet

Stop it because he would he PISSED. And obviously it’s after Bradley and Lil Kazansky move in together but long before they’re married, so guess where Ice sees him most often? Work.

Taking the trash out is not Mrs. Kazansky’s job. It hasn’t been since he married her in ‘89. She does plenty around the house, more than Tom could ever pretend to be completely aware of. So, emptying the trash is his job and has always been.

Kitchen trash can? — Easy. Remembering the bathrooms? — That’s a little more tedious in the big house that his extensive career has afforded him.

Now, it was Mothers’ Day this past weekend. One of the rare times that your sisters were in town. So, you had made the most of it, all having a sleepover in your parents’ house like old times. It was Maddison’s idea. She’s the oldest. Married and trying. Well — she hadn’t explicitly told you to take one, but she had mentioned that she was testing every day. Describing her symptoms to you.

She had put the idea in your head. So, when you were laying awake that night in your childhood bedroom — you couldn’t get the thought off of your mind. The fact that you were laying on your back because your breasts were too tender to be on your side of your front. She had offered up a test willingly and you had taken it without thought.

You had discarded it with the same carelessness, shell shocked by its answer.

Bored and in dull, Sunday afternoon task mode, your father could have missed it when he lifted the lid off of the small bathroom trash can to take the bag out. It was sitting right at the top. Double lines, bright and proudly displayed.

“Bradshaw!”

He’ll never get used to that — he flinches every time. Rooster’s eyes widen a little as he spins to face your father in the men’s locker room. Towel wrapped around his waist and uniform folded neatly in his locker, his conversation interrupted, he studies the furious look on your father’s face.

“A word in my office. Now.”

“Uh, sure — is everything alright?” Bradley’s brows furrow slightly, cheeks burning a deep terracotta, all eyes in the room on him. He swallows softly and adjusts the towel. There are rarely admirals in the locker room and he’s truly dismayed that on this rare occasion, the admiral happens to be your fucking father.

“Not here.”

Rooster pulls at the collar to his uniform, already worried that he’s going to sweat through his freshly applied deodorant as he steps into your father’s office, now dressed in his flightsuit. You’re at work, not yet on your lunch break and unable to reply to his SOS text message.

The door closes and the room suddenly feels a lot smaller. Bradley presses his back to the door.

“When I gave you my blessing, Lieutenant — it was to marry my daughter, not to get her pregnant after less than two months living together.”

Bradley doesn’t have any significant allergies. Cats make him a little itchy but it’s worth it for the airplane ears and funny little attitudes. But now, his throat feels like it’s closing up.

Ice notices the sudden dilation in Bradley’s pupils. He straightens up in his chair, refusing to be fooled. “Don’t play dumb, kid, I found the pregnancy test in her trash.”

Bradley stares at him, back pressed into the office door. It occurs to him briefly that — yeah, your period probably is a little later than normal. He hadn’t thought to that yesterday when he was balls deep inside of you in your now shared shower.

“I’m talking to you, Bradshaw — you gonna answer me, or are you just going to keep staring at me like a damn idiot?”

Rooster exhales slowly. Tom can’t help but notice that he looks a little bit… greener than he did before. Rooster swallows the lump in this throat.

“Can, we — um — can I get back to you? — I think I need to make a phone call.”

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #sub rosa