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toruro · 1 year

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love you twice — j. wonwoo — part two

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

w/c: 7.7k

tags/warnings: sexual content (18+), first-grade-teacher!wonwoo, mother!reader, fluff, angst (light), dirty talk, car sex, fingering, oral (m receiving), dry humping, unedited

a/n: aaaand here is part 2! there's more emotions in this one, and it's more dialogue heavy—at least i hope! thank you for all the kind words on part one, i'm so glad many of you liked it! i hope you enjoy part 2 just as much c:

“Hey Mommy?” your son asks, walking into your room as you rummage through your clothes.

“What’s up Kei-Kei?” you say, looking up at him as you put one of the skirts you’re holding down.

“What time is Uncle Jun coming?”

“Huh, that’s a good question,” you murmur, pulling up your phone to go through your messages. “He’ll be here soon Kei-Kei, give him like an a few minutes. You excited to see him?”

Kei nods, skipping up to stand right next to you. “Yah-huh. I miss him,” he says honestly, and you smile at the thought telling Jun his nephew missed his presence.

“He missed you too, I’m sure,” you reply, ruffling Kei’s hair before waving him along to follow you to the kitchen. “You can watch some TV now if you want, just while we wait for Uncle Jun so I can get ready,” you tell him, sitting him down at the living room couch to turn on the TV.

Kei swings his legs back and forth over the edge of the sofa, nodding in agreement as you put on one of his favorite shows and retreat back to your bedroom, staring down at the pile of clothes

Friday night? Friday night. Fuck, it’s Friday night, and you are hit with the daunting realization that you don’t know what to wear. Huffing in exasperation as you toss your clothes from your drawer down on the ground, you silently curse yourself for not having more clothes that were actually…actually nice.

It isn’t as if you don’t enjoy dressing up—the opposite quite really—it’s just that after having Kei, there was never really the chance for you to do anything that required you to get all dolled up. Well, up until now, at least.

Wonwoo wasted no time texting you that night after your…well whatever that was, sending in the simple message of, ‘friday night?’ His shameless straight-forwardness had you biting down on your lip in your kitchen as you tried to not squeal, before quickly typing out your response of, ‘yes,’ and then thoughtfully, ‘but only if i can find someone to watch kei.’

That evening was spent with you calling Jun, figuring out when he’d be back from his trip, nearly jumping up and down when he responded with a, “yes, yes, I can watch Kei,” followed by a conversation with Kei about how he’d get to see Uncle Jun again this Friday, much to his delight.

Which brings you here—pouting to yourself in the mirror over the fact that you might just have to show up to your date in a skirt you haven’t worn in three years. Granted, it is a cute skirt and you’re flattering yourself when you realize that it still fits, but it is pretty old, and it has you thrown back into memories of when Kei was much younger.

Having Kei in your life was never anything but a blessing, but you would be a liar if you said that some times weren’t especially difficult. From managing your new corporate job, to not having any support from Kei’s father and not much more from your parents, to living in a new city where you hardly knew anyone besides Jun—it was a lot.

Yet, you’ve never regretted your decision of keeping Kei by your side, and looking at the skirt in your hands right—while does remind you of late nights of crying in your bed—makes you feel nothing but pride and happiness for getting this far and holding Kei’s hand every step of the way.

Smiling to yourself at the thought, you quickly fold all the other loose clothes and put them back in their place before slipping on the denim skirt and choosing a white sweater to layer on top. Pleased with your appearance, you walk out of your room as you text Jun about when he’s going to come, since you vaguely remember asking him to come around this time. As you’re just about to send the message of, ‘where are you?’ there’s a knock on your door.

“Is that Uncle Jun?” Kei asks excitedly, jumping up from the sofa to join you on your walk to the doorway.

“I sure hope so,” you chuckle, peeping through the little hole, opening the door when you catch a glimpse of your cousin’s blonde hair. “Hey!” you greet as Jun’s figure reveals itself in front of you, “I was just about to ask you when you were going to come.”

“I—” Jun begins to speak as you give him a little side hug, but he’s cut off by Kei’s squeal.

“Uncle Jun!” he beams, running toward the tall man next to you with his arms wide open. Jun swoops down and swings Kei up by his underarms, throwing him into the air slightly before catching him into his arms.

“What’s up Kei-Kei? I missed you!” Jun exclaims, booping Kei’s nose as they both laugh. You bite back a bright smile at the sight as you close the door behind Jun, helping him take his bag and setting it down while Jun carries Kei to the couch.

“How was your trip with Minghao?” you ask him as you both sit in the living room armchair while Jun settles on the ground with Kei in his lap.

“It was so amazing,” Jun replies, “and we took so many nice pictures. I gotta show you when you’re back from—well, wait where are you going? I just realized you never told me.” You suck in a breath and glance at Kei who’s mindlessly watching the TV while playing with one of Jun’s hands, giving your cousin a look which says, not now, not in front of Kei. Jun purses his lips after understanding your message, nodding slightly before turning his attention to Kei who’s telling him about the show.

“I made dinner for you guys,” you tell Jun as an attempt to avert the topic, at least for now. “I made your favorite, as a thanks for watching Kei—fried chicken.”

Jun lets out a happy sigh, “Oh my god, thank god. I seriously have been deprived of that stuff. It’s just in the fridge right?”

“Yeah, I can show you.” You stand up and make your way to the kitchen and Jun sets Kei down on the couch to come and follow you. As you show him which container the food is in, your voice starts to hush so you can answer the question that you know is on Jun’s mind. “Okay so I have a date,” you say, watching his eyes widen.

“No way! Really?”

You roll your eyes in a mix of annoyance and humor, “Yes! Is it that unbelievable that I’m going on a date with someone?”

“Okay, you know that’s not how I meant it. It’s just, well after Seojun…” Jun’s voice trails off as he gives you a sympathetic look—you know what he’s hinting at. “Okay like you get my point. I just wasn’t expecting this.”

“I guess you have a point,” you murmur to yourself, chewing on your lip.

“Who’s the guy, if I can know,” Jun asks curiously.

“It’s kind of…okay it sounds sort of weird when I say it,” you try to tell Jun, thinking about whether or not you should reveal who you’re going on your date with.

“Ugh, fine, you don’t have to tell me yet. Is there a reason you don’t want Kei to know about it?”

You sigh, leaning against the counter. “It’s not like that…I just—he’s so young? I don’t even know if it’ll work out with this guy—” but god fuck do you hope it will, “—and he’s only just at that age where he’s realizing that most people have two parents and I don’t want him to be confused. Do I sound crazy?”

“No, no, it makes sense,” Jun responds comfortingly. “How’d you meet this guy though?”

“That doesn’t matter,” you quip, turning your head away to walk back to Kei.

“Oh I’m so going to find out eventually,” Jun teases following behind you. “God, this guy even has you wearing that skirt! When was the last time you wore that thing?”

You look down at your legs clad in denim, smoothing down the fabric with your hands. “I dunno, honestly,” you think aloud before looking up at Jun and Kei who are looking at you from the sofa. “It’s nice though, right?” The two boys smile and nod vigorously, and you open your arms wide to pull them into a hug. “Gosh I love you two.” When you pull back you crouch down in front of Kei, holding his cheeks and squishing them. “Especially you, Kei-Kei. I have to head out now, okay? Listen to Uncle Jun.”

Kei sticks out his tongue at you as you place a kiss on his cheek. “I always listen to Uncle Jun!”

“I know, it’s because you’re such a good boy right?” you say lovingly before turning to Jun. “Remember, chicken in the fridge and Kei’s coloring set should be in his room. I’ll try to be back before nine so I don’t keep you here too long,” you instruct your cousin who seems a little preoccupied with squishing Kei’s cheeks.

“Don’t worry about that—I could spend all day with this kid,” he replies without even looking up as you scoff lightly before your lips morph into a grin.

“Whatever. I’ll catch you later, yeah? Love you!” you say one last time before picking up your purse, slipping on your shoes, grabbing your keys, and hopping out the door.

In the privacy of your car, you take a moment to just sit and take a deep breath, leaning your head against the headrest. The possibilities of how this night might run through your mind, and you find yourself biting your nails anxiously—an old habit that never quite died out.

After a few minutes of rumination, you feel there’s no point fantasizing any longer, pulling up your phone to confirm the details that Wonwoo had sent you. Butterflies flourish in your stomach when you see the little heart next to the message reading out, ‘can’t wait to see you,’ and you nearly want to smash your head into the steering by how much it makes you want to scream.

Taking a deep breath as you start the car, your two focuses while driving are 1) not crashing, and 2) not bursting into a big ball of mush at the thought that you’re going on a date—a date with Jeon Wonwoo. Fuck, this man has been doing these to you because you haven’t been on more than two dates in the past three years, and neither of them have had you this excited.

God, you don’t even know what you’re doing on this date! The only information Wonwoo gave you over text was to meet him at a restaurant early in the evening, and then he’d take you ‘someplace nice.’ Now usually, you’re more insistent on having your date actually tell you where you’re going. But you also usually don’t go on dates with your son’s teachers, so you figure that there’s always got to be a first for everything, and that you’d like to share some of your firsts with Wonwoo.

After around ten minutes you’re finally pulling up to the little dine in restaurant Wonwoo sent you, chewing on your lip as you look through your window to see if he’s already there. It takes you a few moments to see him, but soon his figure catches your line of vision and you’re giddily grabbing your purse and tucking some hair behind your ear before leaving your car.

At the moment, Wonwoo is looking down at his phone scrolling through god-knows-what, so you take it as your chance to catch him by surprise, steadily walking up to him until you’re just within arm’s length, finally tapping his shoulder. His head snaps up at you quickly, but a warm smile is making his way onto your face after immediately realizing it’s you.

“Uh, hi,” you greet, bringing your hand down and holding them behind your back. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, I had to talk to my cousin about some stuff.”

“It’s okay, I only got here a few minutes ago too,” Wonwoo says sincerely and holy crap you almost forgot how deep and velvety his voice sounded in person. “You look pretty,” and he says it so casually, as if he was commenting on the weather, that the compliment takes more than five seconds to register in your head and then your eyes are widening slightly before looking away.

“Thank you,” you mumble in response, caught by surprise, before returning, “you look really nice too.”

“We can get dinner first,” Wonwoo suggests, pointing at the door to the restaurant. “I know it’s a bit early but I have some place I’d like to take you.”

You raise a brow at him as you follow the direction of his arm, walking through the doors so you two can get seated. “Do I get to know where you’re taking me, Mr. Jeon?” you tease as you sit down at a seat at a table across from Wonwoo.

“Nope,” he replies with a sly smile. “It’s a secret.”

“I should have you know I actually despise secrets,” you tell him, leaning back in the seat.

“Well,” Wonwoo says smoothly, leaning back as well, “I should have you know that you’ll like this one.”

“And how are you so sure of that?”

“A little someone may or may not have told me his mother likes sunsets.” He takes a sip of water, watching the expression on your face turn from something teasing to something of slight embarrassment.

“You talked to Kei about me?” you ask, somewhat accusingly. Wonwoo puts his hands up, shaking his head as he laughs.

“No, no, not like that. He was drawing a picture of a sunset and he told me it was for you because you liked them,” he explains. That makes more sense. “It was a really pretty drawing, did he show you?”

“Yeah, it’s up on our fridge actually,” you say with a smile, recalling the moment when Kei brought the drawing home, all grinning and proud. It’s around now when a waitress comes and takes your orders, returning to your conversation as she leaves. “So you still haven’t really told me where you’re taking me.”

“Well it seems like you aren’t really listening but I told you it’s a secret.”

“Well maybe you’re not listening because I said I don’t like secrets!” you whine.

“I feel like I’m arguing with one of my students right now,” Wonwoo chuckles. “Surprisingly, Kei is a better listener than you.”

Scoffing, you grumble, “Well you should try to feed him vegetables.”

“That is luckily not one of my duties as his teacher.”

“Well it should be!”

Wonwoo is a good talker. And a good listener. Wonwoo is pretty much good at everything, you start to realize as the night progresses. You aren’t sure if everything’s going so natural because you two just click, or because he’s just inhumanly amazing at making you flustered and giddy, or both, but you find that time flies when you two talk.

When you’ve both finished your meal he stands up and takes your hand, the touch so gentle you think you might just faint. He leads you to his car, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. “Hey wait, I have my car here.”

“I know, but the place I want to take you is pretty close and I want to drive you there,” Wonwoo explains. “Trust me, okay? I’ll bring you back here so you can take your car home.” You give him a look and he sighs. “Please,” he says, looking down at you while tilting his head in a way that makes you want to crumble.

“Okay fine, but I have to be back home no later than ten, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Wonwoo cheers, opening the passenger seat for you before slipping into the driver’s seat. “Trust me, you’ll like this place.”

“You know you’ve been telling me to trust you so much that it’s making me suspicious!” you point out as he begins to drive.

“You’re awfully suspecting, I’m just trying to make sure you have a good night.”

“Well you’re being awfully suspicious! I can’t help it. What if you’re taking me to a scary place to murder me or something!”

“I teach little kids, not kill their mothers.”

“Maybe the teaching is just a cover up,” you speculate as you pretend to think with a finger on your chin. Wonwoo laughs as you look out the window and observe the scenery around you. The once residential area you were driving through has now turned into a scatter of trees and fields—you’ve driven by this place before, but never quite gone into the smaller, inner roads.

“You can think whatever you want to think. But I take it you like the view?”

“It’s pretty,” you say, absentmindedly gazing out the window.

“I told you. We’re almost there—you can close your eyes if you want?”

“This is so suspicious,” you note, albeit closing your eyes and placing your hands over your lids.

“You seem all too willing to go along with the plans of someone you think is a murderer.”

“I don’t think you’re a murderer, I’m just speculating.”

“I’m pretty sure those are the same thing,” Wonwoo mutters as you feel the car turn to a stop, assuming you’ve parked. You shift your body a little, somewhat aimlessly, and you hear a breathy laugh come from your side causing you to frown.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you pout with your hands still over your eyes. “If you’re going to kill me, at least help me out of the car!”

“Alright, alright, just wait one moment.” You hear the seat squeak as he gets up, the sound of the door opening and closing behind him ringing in your ears as you rest back in your seat, anticipating Wonwoo’s next moves.

Sure enough, within seconds your door is being opened, and you feel warm fingers wrap around your upper arm as Wonwoo carefully pulls you out of the car. “You’re being pretty gentle with someone you’re about to kill.”

“You’re really morbid, you know that right?” Wonwoo states.

“What!? I’m only joking,” you whine, following his lead and stepping out onto the ground carefully, letting Wonwoo guide you through wherever it is he’s taken you, finally stopping when he places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes them firmly.

“Okay, you can look now,” Wonwoo instructs, and you can tell from his voice that he’s standing right next to you. As you let your hands fall to your sides, you slowly open your eyes, quickly shutting them back closed by the intrusion of light to your unadjusted pupils. Wonwoo watches as you blink your eyes back open a few times, your faces going from bothered to enamored as the scene in front of you becomes visible.

In front of you is a large field of grass, enclosed by trees around it, pockets of daffodils flowing with the wind, and small yellow flowers dotting its surface. Looking up, you catch the orange-pink sky that’s settling over you, and while your eyes are still adjusting, you can confidently name this as one of the prettiest things you’ve ever seen.

“Wow,” you breath out, turning to look at Wonwoo. “You’re telling me this place has been like 20 minutes away from my home and I’ve never known about it?”

Wonwoo snorts at your comment before leading you to the edge of the dip in the road where he parked. “The roads were closed off for a few years and I guess people forgot about it,” he says with a shrug, pointing at a bench that sits at the edge of the field. He sits down while you stay behind, still marveling at the scene in front of you.

“Do you usually enjoy taking the moms of your students to see pretty sunsets?” you ask Wonwoo, wiggling a brow as you sit next to him after a few moments.

“That depends,” Wonwoo replies, leaning back and smoothly resting an arm behind you, his hand falling on your shoulder. You scoot closer to him, and the way his arm follows your movement has your stomach doing tumbles.

“On?” you ask curiously, slightly anxious about his answer—what if this is a normal thing for him?

“On whether or not you want to make this a usual thing.” You nearly choke on your saliva, not expecting that response, eliciting a laugh from the man next to you. The fucking things he does to you. “I take that as you want this to be a regular thing?” he continues.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest indignantly in faux pettiness, but Wonwoo catches the way you rest your weight on him. “I guess it depends on how pretty the sunset is.” His arm adjusts around you, pulling you closer so you’re pressed up against his side with a hand ghosting its touch on your hip.

“Well I think it’s pretty pretty. Seems kind of hard to turn down a round two of this, don’t you think?” he reasons, and you giggle.

“I guess you’re right.” A comfortable silence settles over you as you both look at the grass and the ever-changing that sits above it. “The grass looks pretty,” you think aloud, stepping up from the bench and towards the lush green fields in front of you. You don’t say anything as you walk into the grass, crouching down to your knees before sitting in the grass, legs straight out in front of you as you rest your upper body on your arms behind you.

Wonwoo follows, and before you know it he’s sitting down next to you, his upper arm brushing next to your shoulder. It’s silent for a few moments as you look ofer the view, trying to collect the racing thoughts that zoom by in your mind.

You must look like you’re deep in thought—which, to be fair, you are—and Wonwoo speaks. “Is everything okay?”

“I, uh—sorry wait, I’m just thinking a lot of things,” you mumble, burying your face in your hands, somewhat embarrassed that you stopped this moment for nothing other than some useless thoughts. You groan quietly as you lay back, letting your head fall onto the grass, looking straight up at the sky.

Wonwoo watches you and purses his lips, grabbing your wrists and gently pulling them away from your face so he can properly look at you as he turns his body over and lays next to you. “Tell me.”

“I guess…” you huff, taking a few moments to think of the right words. Jeon Wonwoo waits. “I think I’m worried. Worried that whatever this is, it isn’t more than just like, a fun night and a nice fuck for you.”

“Do you mean—”

“That sounds bad—ugh—it’s like,” you stutter over your words as you try to come up with a way to say this. Jeon Wonwoo waits. “We hooked up and all, and then there was nothing after that, except there is something after that, you know? And I want to be on the same page with you with what that something is.”

Wonwoo stares at you with some kind of clouded message in his eyes and you take it as your sign to continue speaking.

“That night was…not something I usually do but I don’t know if it’s something that you usually do. And even this—dates—I don’t think I’ve gone on more than one or two a year since I’ve had Kei and,” now you begin to ramble, not even being able to look Wonwoo in the eyes as you pour your heart out, “but you make me want to and this is different for me but I don’t know one hundred percent what your thoughts on this are,” you conclude, shyly looking up to meet his gaze.

You catch Wonwoo chewing his lip for a moment before taking a deep breath and beginning his response, “I think…I know I really like you,” he admits. “I don’t usually hook up either, but you were so pretty. I kept thinking about you the whole next day.”

You perk up at that. “Really?”

“Really. Why do you think I offered for you to stay the night?”

“I thought you were a gentleman,” you joke.

“I am a gentleman. Just only for you,” he adds with a wink that you catch from the corner of your vision.

“So you don’t butter up all the other moms too? I doubt you don’t—there’s no other way for you to have gotten that reputation.” “I just happen to be a good teacher.”

“A good looking teacher,” you correct. Wonwoo gasps dramatically, turning over again so he can face you.

“Are you defaming my skills as a teacher?”

You scrunch up your nose at his accusation, turning over too and laughing a little at the way the grass tickles your neck. “No. I’m just saying you’re a good looking teacher. You’re a great teacher, I can tell from Kei.”

You don’t expect Wonwoo to bring a hand up to your cheek and press a firm kiss on your lips. It’s the first time you’ve felt his lips in days, and although it’s short, it’s sweet and fulfilling. “You’re a great mom,” and he pauses, “I can tell from Kei.”

You grin so widely you have to turn away from him out of embarrassment, hoping the cool evening breeze will soothe your burning cheeks. “I try.” You sit up finally, looking down at Wonwoo who’s still laying down on the grass, watching with two hands behind his head. “How’d you find this place anyways?”

“My mom used to take me here.” There’s something in his voice—it’s unidentifiable for a moment, but when you see the look on Wonwoo’s face, you place it. Pursing your lips at where you have a feeling this is going, you reach your hand out, motioning for him to hold it.

You two don’t speak as he sits up, encasing his warm hands around yours. It’s a silent message, you think, and you don’t need to say anything for Wonwoo to know that you understand. “I’m happy I’m here with you,” he finally says, squeezing your hand just a bit tighter.

“I’m happy that you took me here,” you admit.

The air is lighter now, and Wonwoo asks, “So you finally understand that I’m not trying to kill you, right?”

“Um, I think I still need to think about that…” your voice trails off as you look off into the distance with a smirk tugging at your lips. “Maybe another kiss might convince me, though…” You give Wonwoo a look and doesn’t hesitate to pull you by the hand and into his hold, pressing his lips against yours.

His hold on you is so gentle yet so firm, pulling you close and sliding his tongue against yours. The innocence that laced your fingers with his is replaced with an overwhelming feeling of desire—you think you might just go insane. When he pulls away, you audibly whine. “Is that good enough for you?” Wonwoo coos.

“You can’t just kiss me like—like that and then just stop,” you complain, shifting to sit on your knees so you can face him fully. Wonwoo throws his head back when he laughs at you, but when he looks back at you, his gaze on you is—fuck—it’s definitely something.

“Car?” he asks, and your eyes only need to flicker towards his SUV that’s parked just a few meters away before he’s standing up and you’re scrambling to take his hand so you can follow him, nearly running into the back seat with him.

Wonwoo sits in the backseat and you climb in right after, situating your knees on either side of him as he closes the door behind you. The second he’s done he’s pulling you by the waist impossibly close to his body, capturing your lips in another fierce kiss.

Wonwoo kisses you the same way roses bloom in spring, the way sun shines in summer, the way leaves brown in autumn, the way snow falls in winter—he kisses you like it’s so natural, it’s imprinted into his very DNA.

The thought has you melting under his touch, and when his hot mouth leaves yours to trail its way down, sucking and nipping at the flesh of your neck, you find yourself aching for more. There’s that buzz at the depth of your core and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck.

“This skirt, fuck, you were driving me crazy all evening,” Wonwoo mutters into your ear as you grind into him, hands coming up to squeeze the flesh of your thigh, fingers inching up and under your skirt.

“Maybe,” you gasp as he pushes you down harder, your clothed core pulsing at the contact, “you’re just really horny.” Wonwoo scoffs, and although you know he’s trying to come off as composed, you watch the way his eyebrows are slightly furrowed.

“Maybe,” he retorts, “you just make me horny.” You’re about to lean in and kiss him again when a passing thought comes to mind. “You should know I really want you and me to go somewhere, but if you want reassurance that you are more than just an amazing lay, I didn’t plan on this happening today,” he groans as you go back to rocking your hips into his, leaning down to push the seat back so he could lay further down making it easier for you to straddle him. “And to add to that fact, I didn’t even bring condoms,” he adds shamefully.

“Guess I’m just that irresistible huh,” you murmur into his mouth as you lean in for a kiss, Wonwoo’s arms making their way back to your waist.

“Mhm,” he agrees. “But seriously, no condoms,” he grunts when he brings his fingers under your skirt and over your soaked panties. You gasp at the familiar feeling of his fingers running over your clothed folds, stilling your hips so Wonwoo can continue his ministrations.

“Okay so you like skirts,” you note, voice strained as Wonwoo watches you try to keep your composure, “Anything else that turns you on? You know, so I can make sure that I totally don’t wear that next time.”

Wonwoo chuckles as his middle finger rubs over your clit, and you let out a high pitched moan. “Well I’m not sure yet…still have to see you in different outfits, you know?” Fuck, it’s really hard to pay attention to his words when his deft fingers are nearly having you humping his hands from how fucking good it feels.

“Ah—Won—fuck,” his name escapes your lips as you look down at his hand that’s buried beneath your skirt but not giving you quite what you want. “I guess that means—ah—that you’re just going to have to take me out more,” you manage to gasp out as he slides your panties to the side, the cool evening air hitting your slick core.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo looks amused when he says it, and you burn from the humiliation of falling apart on top of him, but you don’t back away. “Want more, angel?” he coos and you can’t even help the way you clench around the ghost of his fingers at the words. Yeah, angel, you want to be Wonwoo’s angel. His angel.

“Yeah, Wonwoo, want more,” you plead, placing your hands on his shoulders so you can look at him with glassy eyes. “Please? Make me feel good, please?”

Wonwoo isn’t sure how he’s holding himself back. Yes, he’s usually good with self control in all situations but the way you’re looking at him has his mind overcome with nothing but pure hunger. The thought of you being bent over the back seat, fucking you so hard that he’s the only one you can smell, see, think, feel, has his pants feeling incredibly tight.

The release of tension that he once felt when you were grinding against him is no longer there, but the only thought at the forefront of his mind right now is making you feel good. The way your eyebrows are slightly pinched together, eyes shutting tight when he runs a tentative finger through your wetness, the soft pleas of his name on the tip of your tongue—god, Wonwoo would do anything and everything for you if you just asked him, saying his name like that.

“You want me to make you feel good?” he finally gives in, circling the tip of his middle finger around your hole before finally plunging it knuckle’s deep in one go. You cry out at the welcome intrusion, letting your head instinctively fall to Wonwoo’s shoulders as you needily grind down on his finger, wanting—no, needing—more.

Wonwoo takes his time with you, using only one finger to drag in and out of you until you lift your head up and look him so fiercely in the eye, silently begging for more so intensely, that he can’t heed your requests. Easily slipping in another finger, he downright moans at the feeling of you hugging his digits so tightly.

“Wo—” you moan, “Wonwoo,” and fuck the way you say it has him nearly falling apart just as much as you are. “Feels so good,” you tell him, delirious on the feeling of him fingering you. His fingers reach so much further, so much harder than you could ever imagine doing on your own, and this moment reminds you of the many nights in the past month you’ve spent squirming on your bed, trying to recreate the same feeling from weeks ago.

“You look so pretty like this,” Wonwoo praises, and the words do wonders for you, and even moreso, for you cunt. “So wet—dripping all over me,” he whispers, and you whine at the way you feel yourself grow closer to your edge from his filthy words alone.

As his two fingers continue to rub against your hot, clenching walls, he brings his thumb up to smooth over your aching clit, and the way you gasp tells Wonwoo that whatever he’s doing, he should keep doing it. He doesn’t stop his fingers, nor does he stop his mouth, occasionally pulling your head up to kiss you and other times whispering pure filth into your ears as you begin to tremble under his hold.

“I—wanna cum,” you plead, bringing your head up from his shoulder and using your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. “Can I cum, Wonwoo, please—please?”

Your face is flushed, pupils dilated, lips swollen, and Wonwoo can’t ever imagine another universe where he can say no to you. “Yeah baby,” he urges you on, “cum all over my fingers. Make a mess.”

And who are you to deny him? Your orgasm hits you at full force as Wonwoo’s fingers speed up one last tight, thumb circling your clit simultaneously until his touch is the only thing you can feel and his eyes are the only thing you can see.

His name flows from honey off your tongue and Wonwoo loves the sound so much, he thinks he might just cum in his pants. He shakes the thought, watching you come down from your high, slipping his fingers out to readjust your panties and skirt. You watch him with hazy eyes as he does so, and Wonwoo takes his chances with your fucked out state.

Bringing his slick fingers up to your face, it doesn’t even take half a second before you’re wrapping your mouth around his digits, tasting yourself, tasting him. God, if Wonwoo didn’t think you were the one earlier, he definitely thinks you’re the one now.

He pulls his fingers out with a small ‘pop’ sound soon enough, looking at you with a grin. “Seems like you wanted this just as much as I did, huh?” Wonwoo teases, watching you as your erratic breath slowly comes to a steady pulse. “So much for calling me horny.”

“I-I told you,” you tell him shakily, “You look really nice.”

Wonwoo looks down, scanning over his outfit before replying, “So jeans and a t-shirt? I guess I’m listing those down as your turn ons. C’mon, give me something else to work with.” You roll your eyes as you slowly push yourself off of him, much to his confusion. You settle yourself in the cramped space between his legs, feeling yourself squirm at the sight of him realizing what you’re about to do.

“Uh, well,” you start off by bringing his hand that’s placed on his thigh to your cheek, the moist touch tainting your skin. “When you put your fingers in my mouth,” you say shyly, feeling yourself grow desperate again at the why Wonwoo’s eyes darken, “that was really hot.”

He doesn’t say anything as he nudges a finger against your cheek before prodding at the corner of your mouth. Without warning, he plunges two fingers back into your mouth as you open your lips up for him, pads pushing down on your tongue. You both groan at the implications of what you’re doing as you swirl your tongue around his digits, coating them with your wetness once more.

“Okay, fuck, I can’t do this anymore,” Wonwoo groans, and you open your mouth to free his fingers of yourself as you watch him unbuckle his jeans and push them down to his knees. You quickly crawl forward, sitting up higher as you reach forward and pull his boxers down along with his pants, freeing his length.

You nearly moan at the sight—it’s been so long since you’ve last seen it—long, thick, veiny, and dribbling a bead of precum down the tip. You settle yourself comfortably between his legs, but your feet are still in an awkward position behind you. Nevertheless, the only thing you can think right now is how badly you want to make Wonwoo feel as good as he made you feel.

You waste no time running your palm down the length of his cock, making sure to run your fingers over every curve, every vein, every part of him, as if you were trying to memorize him. As you bring your face closer to his tip, you hear Wonwoo’s breath hitch, lacing his fingers in your hair gently.

Carefully guiding your face closer to him, you stick out your tongue, lapping at the precum that decorates his cock’s bulbous head, and Wonwoo fucking moans at the contact. “Fuck,” he throws his head back, and you can feel your sensitive pussy already begin to heat up again. Eager to please him more, you open your mouth and then quickly close it around his whole top, drinking in the way his grip on your hair tightens. Swirling your tongue around his cock as you slowly push yourself down its length, you moan lowly when his hips jerk into yours slightly, the vibrations only adding to Wonwoo’s pleasure.

“Don’t—fuck nevermind—” Wonwoo grunts, as you pull your head back so that only his tip is brushing against your lips again. Looking up at him with those eyes, you inhale deeply again so you can hollow out your cheeks and push down on him further than before.

You do this a few times, and your jaw begins to ache—Wonwoo is big and his cock is forcing your mouth open so wide you don’t know how you’re even able to move your mouth anymore. Each time you try to push down further, his words of “you’re doing so good angel,” and “fuck, just like that,” are encouraging you to take on more and more and more, and you’re enamored by how you still can’t seem to fit all of him in your mouth.

Using your hands to rub whatever of his length your lips can’t quite reach, you begin to speed up, Wonwoo’s hips thrusting slightly into your mouth simultaneously, and you can now feel his tip kiss the back of your throat. Fighting off the urge to gag, your eyes well up with tears as you grip onto his thigh tightly with the hand you aren’t using to hold him, being egged on by the way Wonwoo repeatedly calls you his angel.As he looks down at you, mouth so fucking full, eyes glassy from the batter of his cock against the back of your throat, Wonwoo can’t think of anything that looks prettier. Not the sunset, not the fields—none of that—just you and all of you.

“Fuck,” his voice is rough and strained as he fights back to cum too early, trying to bask in this moment because holy hell do you know how to use that mouth. “I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he warns as you push down so far he can see how much you’re struggling. You pull off of him with heaving breaths, swiping away the globs of saliva that run down your mouth.

Your lips are red and cheeks are slightly shiny from tears and Wonwoo swears he feels his dick twitch at the idea that he did that to you. “Isn’t that the point?” you murmur, ignoring his words as you return your mouth back to the tip of his mouth, letting your tongue glide over the slit at the top before hollowing your cheeks and letting him use his hands to push you down.

“Fuck, fine,” he groans, being less composed with the way he’s snapping his hips into your mouth. His movements are becoming erratic while yours become sloppy, moving your head up and down so fast it’s dizzying, not pausing your hands rubbing along his length. “I’m gonna cum,” he grunts out one last time, letting go of your hair so you can pull yourself off of him.

The look in your eyes tells him you want otherwise.

Not breaking eye contact, you continue to run your mouth all over his cock, saliva and drool coating your chin in a way that’s so erotic and intimate, it has Wonwoo cumming down your throat within seconds with a heaving groan.

He thrusts into your open mouth a few last times to ride out whatever of his orgasm is left in him before you’re slipping off of him so you can swallow his cum in one large gulp, opening and closing your mouth a few times after to soothe some of the ache in your jaw. Riding down from his high, Wonwoo notices this, gently cupping your face with one hand to look at you carefully. “I’m sorry, did I go too hard?”

You grin, shaking your head. “No. Loved it,” you tell him looking up with bright eyes. Wonwoo feels his heart swell at the sight as he pulls his boxers and pants back on, pulling you up so he can kiss you firmly once before pulling away. You chase his lips for a moment, but he holds back.

“No more of that. I don’t think you’re ready to do another round,” Wonwoo tells you as you roll your eyes, sitting down on his thigh.

“Fine,” you huff, looking out the window to see that the once orange sky is being replaced with a deep purple. “I probably should get back to Kei too…” you murmur to yourself, looking around for your phone to check the time. Wonwoo watches you with his hands on your waist—he finds it so cute how you’re so…comfortable in his hold.

“You wanna drive back to the restaurant now? So you can get your car?” he suggests as you begrudgingly shuffle off of him and out of his hold.

“Yes please,” you reply, not bothering to open the door, simply crawling over the small space between the two front seats and slipping into the passenger seat. Wonwoo waits for you to get over before leaving the car himself so he can move to the driver's seat, fumbling with his keys for a moment before starting the car.

“So, how does it feel to be proven wrong?” Wonwoo asks as he starts driving. You raise a brow at him, signaling him to go on. “You know, since I didn’t kill you and all.”

“I guess you not being a murderer was a pleasant surprise,” you say dramatically. “But be careful Mr. Jeon. I’m on your tail.”

“I haven’t done anything!”

“Not yet.”

You two bicker back and forth and before you know it, the sun has fully set and he’s pulling up to your car parked in front of the restaurant from before. He’s about to get out of the car with you as you reach down to pick up your purse, but you quickly stop him.

“You should probably stay,” you tell him. When he looks at you with confusion, you point at the dark spot on his jeans shyly, giggling at the way your eyes widen. “Yeah, sorry about that,” you murmur. Wonwoo chuckles, looking back at you.

“No it’s okay. It’s hot. But you’re right…I think I’ll just stay in here,” he agrees before letting his gaze fall on you as you place your hand on the door. “Wait,” he says gruffly, and as you turn around you’re met with a soft kiss as he cups your face with one hand. It lasts hardly a second, and when he pulls away his lips pull into a genuine smile. “Text me when you get home, okay?”You nod, butterflies erupting at his care, pulling the door and slowly stepping out. “I’ll see you later, Wonwoo,” you tell him one last time through the open window as you close the door. As you turn around and retreat to your car, all you can think about is how this evening has gone just how you wanted it to, and more. As you begin your drive home, a funny thought pops up in your head among the multitude of memories that make you go giddy.

Jeon Wonwoo may not be a murderer, but he just might be the death of you.

a/n: hope you enjoyed! ngl the past few days have been so shitty for me and my only escape is writing this story bc it makes so happy so ummmmm yeah! i'm not super happy with the ending but i hope it will suffice. please like, reply/comment, and reblog! you can also send me an ask or add a comment if you'd like to be tagged in pt.3 or if you want to be removed from the series tag list c:

tags: @etherealyoungkngk @noonareads @mingycr @everyw0nu @hananibooboo @gaebestie @rhaenyras-raven @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @wonw00t @galursi @horny4hosh @everyw0nu

#jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fanfic #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x you #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #📝 writing

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slytherinshua · 5 months

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FLYING BICYCLES AND LOVESTRUCK MAGIC

genre. fluff. kiki's delivery service au-ish. a lil mutual pining. warnings. reader is basically kiki and sohee is basically tombo lol. some psychic magic mentioned. it's mostly just them being whipped for each other. osono cameo cause she's mvp fr. pairing. sohee x witch!reader. wc. 2.5k. a/n. the riize brainrot is SO REAL. idk why i felt sohee would fit the role of tombo so perfectly hes just sooo 💔💔 i love him guys 🥹

Sohee was 97.62436% sure that he was going crazy when he first saw you flying on a broomstick through the city. Of course, the other 2.37564% that had gone completely insane was fascinated, excited, and probably (definitely) head over heels in love.

He lived in a small town. One where the word went around like a whirlwind as soon as anyone new moved in. It was the most exciting thing that could happen for the residents there, especially when the newcomer happened to be a very pretty girl from a rich city.

Most people would move out of the town when they reached 20 or so to discover themselves. Yet they always seemed to find their way back when they were a bit more settled. It was a rite of passage— a route to adulthood that almost everyone assumed the youth of the town would take. Sohee liked his town, though, and didn’t feel any need to move away. He had already discovered himself enough to know what he wanted to do with his life.

There were exciting things to do that he doubted he would be able to do anywhere else. Visiting the town’s grandpa that ran the old antique shop, getting free candy from the young lady who ran the candy store after the old owner had passed away, seeing every new addition to the art gallery from the aspiring painters and sculptors in town. And, his favourite activity: investigating the old junk yard for spare parts to make his newest models.

Sohee liked to call himself an inventor. It felt spiffy and official. He showed off every new creation he pieced together with rusted tools and even rustier bits of metal like it was the next world-changing invention. He could spend hours in his dad’s old workshop working with nuts and bolts, seeing what the pieces could make once they came together.

He had been determined to make a flying vehicle for years now. After finding a beautiful old wind turbine in the junkyard when he was 14, he had started planning mock-ups for a bicycle. He would attach the turbine in front of it so that when you pedalled, the turbine spinned. The hope was that with enough inertia, you could eventually lift off the ground with it. He was skeptical that it would actually work, though.

He hadn’t officially talked to you yet. You had been in town for a couple days now, staying with the couple that ran the local bakery. Sohee thought you were absolutely beautiful from the moment he first saw you. He had been riding his bicycle past the bakery on his way to the carpenters to pick up some tools. One glance at you through the window had him abruptly pushing on the brakes, eyes going wide.

Maybe it was a bit of an exaggeration, but you looked like an angel. Or a goddess. Or a fairy. Sohee couldn’t decide which one, but he knew that you were the most stunning person he had ever seen. Since that day, he kept running into you in town, but his own nervousness had stopped him from talking to you properly. He had held a few conversations; enough to know your name and age, but clearly not enough to know that you could fly through the air.

Now, he was staring wide-eyed at the clouds, watching you soar just beneath them so effortlessly. He craned his head to watch you as long as he could before you disappeared behind the clock tower.

“Woah…” He whispered, jaw dropped in an awestruck expression.

“She’s quite the girl, isn’t she?”

Sohee turned to the side, nodding in agreement with what Osono, the bakery lady, had said.

“She’s amazing. Do you know how she does it?” He asked with a grin.

“Haven’t you heard by now, Sohee? She’s a witch! She chose our town to do her witch training.” Osono explained.

“That’s incredible! I didn’t even know witches actually existed! Do you know what she’s training in?!” Sohee felt like his brain was spinning at a speed incomprehensible to mankind. He kept thinking of more and more questions about you. He’d never seen anyone quite like you before, and the more he learned, the more intrigued he became.

“She said she’s still figuring it out— but she’s interested in love readings. For now, she’s using her flying skills to help me and the town. She’s an excellent delivery girl!” Osono beamed.

“Love readings…?” Sohee pondered the idea on his way back home. The next day, he found himself at the town’s library, scanning through the small section on magic and witches with more focus than he had put to almost anything.

“Miss witch, I’d like to get a love reading!” He announced happily, swinging open the door to the bakery where you were seated at the counter, seconds away from falling asleep due to the lack of customers. You jerked up at the sound of Sohee, immediately knowing that it was him from his playful nickname for you— miss witch.

“Really!? You want one!?” You jumped up from your seat and rushed around the counter to be face to face with him. Sohee had become your first friend in town. After he had seen you fly that day, he discovered the key to talking to you without being awkward. You could fly and he wanted to fly. There was a perfect common interest.

You loved talking to Sohee. He was infinitely more interesting than the kids back at your old home, most of which were stuck up and rude. Sohee was bright and kind and full of imagination and dreams and inspiration. He never got bored of you talking about being a witch, and you never got bored of hearing about his new inventions. You had never clicked so well with someone before.

There was also the fact that he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen. But that was… less important. You had a bad habit of crushing on boys without it ever going anywhere. You were determined not to repeat that disaster a sixth time.

“It would be my great honour to be your very first customer.” Sohee said dramatically, making you giggle with excitement.

“Well, then, dear client, shall we go to my witch lair? I can’t perform the reading anywhere else.” You responded, matching his dramatics perfectly. He grinned and nodded and you grabbed his wrist to lead him upstairs.

“It’s a bit messy— give me a second!” You rushed around your small attic space that Osono had been so kind to let you stay in for free. You hurriedly put away the food that you had gotten for breakfast and shoved some odd trinkets under your bed so that they were hidden. Sohee just watched, his heart racing. He really needed to get that under control.

“Where’s my witching supplies- Aha! Here it is!” You held up a small purple box, bejewelled with gold ornaments. It looked ancient and rusty— exactly the type of artifact that Sohee loved.

You set down a thin blanket on the wooden floor before taking out the little baubles and setting them in the middle of the fabric. Sohee sat on one end, and you on the other.

“Alright, mister… I have a series of questions, but for this to work, you must answer them completely honestly. If you lie even once, the whole thing will be messed up!” You had put on your mother’s joke witches had for fun. The sight made Sohee laugh, especially when you deepened your voice to sound old as you explained how things would work.

“I got it. I’ll tell only the truth.” Sohee promised.

“Once you answer all the questions, I’ll flip over this blank card. If everything works out, the name of the person you love the most will slowly appear before your eyes! Now… Are you ready?” You quirked an eyebrow, staring seriously at him even though on the inside you were about to burst with excitement. It was your dream to open your own love reading business. You just weren’t completely sure if you were good enough at it yet.

Sohee nodded eagerly, a mix of excitement and nervousness stewing inside of him. He wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, so he carefully followed along with what you did to make sure he didn’t mess anything up. You closed your eyes and he followed suit.

The questions you asked started out simple, without Sohee needing to deliberate before delivering the honest answer to you. But as they went on, they got more complex and more personal. Sohee had never doubted your abilities as a witch, but he hadn’t expected you to be able to see right through him.

“Last question…”

“Mhm?” Sohee could feel his stomach twist in nervousness, but he breathed steadily to try to calm his nerves.

“Do you believe yourself to be in love with someone at this current moment?”

Sohee swallowed slowly, his mouth and throat feeling parched all of a sudden. He took his time to think through it, though the answer was almost painfully obvious. He had never been more in love in his entire life.

“Yes.” He finally answered with certainty, a slight burden lifting off his chest. It was almost as if he was confessing to you in a way— and though he didn’t say it directly, it still eased some of his anxiety. He opened his eyes hesitantly after answering to see your face scrunched in concentration.

“No way-” You opened your eyes as well, frowning in confusion and looking up to Sohee with a questioning gaze. “By any chance are you…?”

“Huh?” Sohee blinked, confused at your actions. You shook your head quickly and stared down at the blank card.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

The air felt a little tense as you slowly flipped over the black card. You held your hand over it for a few seconds, shielding it from Sohee’s curious view. You lifted your hand carefully once you were sure it had worked and watched as the name slowly appeared on the card.

You sat in frozen shock once you read the name on the card, struggling to process what you had seen. Your name was displayed on the card, clearer than ever. There was no way that anyone could possibly mistake it or misread it, but you just couldn’t believe it.

“It- we- we must’ve messed it up somehow! There’s no way that’s- It must’ve got me confused, right!?” Sohee spluttered helplessly, his entire face a bright shade of red. Somehow in his calculations, he didn’t expect for the card to expose him that horrendously, right in front of you as well.

“I don’t think we did it wrong, though… Everything felt… right.” You said quietly. “Do you… like me?” You could barely get the words to come out of your throat.

There were some parts of your magic that you still needed time to trust completely. Flying had always been easy in that aspect; you either flew or you didn’t. But when it came to love readings, you wondered how likely it was that your magic had gotten messed up. You liked to be whimsical and believe that your love readings could be completely accurate, but your confidence had never been as low as in this moment.

However nervous you were feeling, it was a thousand times worse for Sohee. You had a small inkling of hope— hope that he would say yes. But for Sohee, he could only think of the possible rejection. Or the even worse possibility that this would tear apart your friendship.

“Yes…?” Sohee whispered out to you. You had never heard him this nervous or quiet before.

“Really? Are you sure?” You asked again, this time with a little more voice and hope surging in you. Sohee must have picked up on the hopeful tone, as he answered yes again, this time with more certainty.

“Then the reading wasn’t wrong?! You actually like me?” Your hand clasped over your mouth before you could ramble anymore in your state of disbelief.

“What about you? I mean… you probably don’t, right? But maybe…?” Sohee couldn’t help but be hopeful for your response, but he held himself back from being too expectant on the response he was dreaming for.

“Do I like you back?! Of course I do- It wasn’t obvious before now?” You stuttered in disbelief.

“I mean- I hoped you did, but I couldn’t be sure.” Sohee clarified. The tension in the room had completely dissipated by now, and your smiles were slowly coming back as the reality settled in.

“I’ve liked you since I moved here, I think. Didn’t you ever question why we kept running into each other before we became friends?”

“No? I just thought it was a lucky coincidence.” Sohee admitted with a laugh.

“It was because whenever I spotted you biking around town, I’d land in a street nearby and pretend like I was always walking that way just to cross paths with you!” You corrected stubbornly. Now that it was clear that the feelings were mutual, you wanted him to know the effort that you went through to get closer to him.

“I also started going past the bakery on my way home. It added an extra 5 minutes to my route, but it was worth it to see you working through the glass window.” He scratched the back of his neck shyly, mirroring your smile when your eyes brightened at hearing his confession.

“So… what now?” You questioned suddenly after a prolonged silence of both of you trying to stare at the other while simultaneously trying your best not to look obvious.

“Would you go out with me?” Sohee asked excitedly. “Oh shoot- I should’ve gotten flowers first. Wait here- I’ll be quick!” He stammered, rushing out of the room before you could stop him. He was gone only long enough for you to giggle in delight while you cleaned up the supplies you had laid out. Your witching skills had come in handy in the best of ways.

He was out of breath by the time he burst open the door again, but his eyes had never glimmered any brighter. He held a bouquet of pink and white roses, a little squished on one side from the rush he had been in.

“You know you didn’t have to go buy these…” You bit back a smile, taking the pretty flowers from his hands.

“My mom always said the best way to charm a lady was with flowers.” He panted and grinned at you cheekily when you shot him a look. You smiled as you sniffed the sweet scent of the roses. Sohee was about to say something else, but you pulled him into a tight hug before he could start, the unexpected gesture knocking all words he had into another dimension.

“I really like you, Sohee.” You whispered, your smile twinkling as you rested your head on his shoulder.

He took a second to get over the shock of you hugging him before he was wrapping his arms around your frame as well, mumbling back, “Me too.”

↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien

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footprintsinthesxnd · 2 years

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Next thing you know

Pairings: Hangman x reader

Thank you so much @imjess-themess for proofreading this for me.

Summary: The story of Jake Seresin falling in love.

This fic was inspired by a song called ‘Next Thing You Know’ by Jordan Davis and as soon as I heard it I couldn’t get the image of Jake out of my head so here it is.

Part 2

‘You meet a girl in a bar and next thing you know’

The Hard deck was packed when you walked in after Natasha. “Come on (y/n), I can see them.” She grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowds of people to the back of the room, where there was a large group of aviators huddled around a pool table. You recognised one of them as Bob, Nat’s backseater, who waved at you before realising he’d thrown half a cup of peanuts down himself. You smiled awkwardly at him as his round cheeks became dusted with pink. You had a soft spot for poor Bob.

“Well look who we have here. If it ain’t Phoenix,” a blond man stood with a pool stick in hand smiling over at them. “And you bought a friend too huh.”

“Leave her alone Hangman, she just moved here and she doesn’t need the likes of you trying to pounce on her.”

Hangman held his hands up in mock surrender, “As if I would,” he said innocently but you could tell that he was already plotting a way to talk to you.

“Everyone this is (y/n), she just moved here last week. She's the new Top Gun naval engineer.” A small wave of hellos passed through the group and you gave them all a small wave before they continued their game. You took a seat next to Bob while Nat went to grab some beers. “So how's your first week been,” Bob asked, pushing his glasses up his nose nervously.

“Umm yeah, it's been ok. Still trying to unpack everything, you know?” Bob nodded in agreement, before turning back to his cup of peanuts. You were watching the other aviators' game when you felt someone’s presence next to you. looking up you came face to face with Hangman. “Jake Seresin at your service.” You held his large hand out to you with a gleaming smile on his face.

“(Y/n),” you replied shyly, trying to avoid eye contact with the very attractive man in front of you. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh no darling, the pleasure is all mine.”

‘There’s a U-Haul trailer, next thing you know’

“Jesus darling, how many more boxes have you got,” Jake asked, coming through the front door into the kitchen where you were trying to fit everything into a cupboard.

“Not that much more, I only bought the essentials as you said you had everything.”

Jake laughed, placing the box on the kitchen counter and coming around to face you. He cradled your face in his hands and he leaned down to place a delicate kiss on your lips. He moved your hands up to tangle into his blonde hair and he let out a moan as you tugged on it softly.

“Oi love birds,” Rooster shouted from the doorway, “Are you gonna help unload this stuff or not?” You laughed and Jake smiled down at you, stroking your cheek softly.

“We’re coming, Roo, don’t worry.”

‘Next thing you know

You're savin' money like never before, just to

Spend it all at a jewellery store’

“I don’t know Roo. There are just so many to choose from. I don’t know which one (y/n) will want.” Jake sighed, slumping down on the car in the third jewellery store they’d been to.

Rooster looked sympathetically down at his fellow aviator. He’d never seen Jake so distressed before.

“Listen man, I know you want to pick the most perfect one, but honestly (y/n) isn’t the type of girl who wants a giant rock, she just wants you. Look at these over here, they are simple but elegant and (y/n) likes silver jewellery.”

He pulled Jake up off the chair and guided him towards the counter.

“Look, what about that one? It’s small and simple but it’s elegant and pretty.” Rooster looked at the other man questioningly.

“Umm yeah, actually I like that one. Do you think that’s the one?”

“I think it might be buddy. Do you think (y/n) will like it?”

“Yeah, I hope so. God, I just hope she says yes,” Jake’s eyes were filled with worry as he turned to his friend.

“You have nothing to worry about Jake, she is besotted with you.”

The evening had gone smoothly, you’d been out to dinner, and had a lovely walk along the beach and you were currently seated on the sand, watching the sunset. Jake had been acting strange all evening. He was nervous, you could see the sweat trickling down his forehead and his eyes couldn’t meet yours.

“Honey, what’s wrong,” you placed your hand on top of his and he jumped slightly at the contact.

“Umm…nothing… I” he stammered. Jake Seresin was never nervous, he always kept his cool but not tonight. “(Y/n) there’s uh… there’s something I want to ask you and I’ve been trying to find the perfect moment and… oh god I’m so nervous,” he laughed and stood up still not facing you. You sat there confused as you watched your boyfriend pace up and down in front of you.

“(Y/n) I never really was a love-at-first-sight kind of guy, I was never really a falling-in-love kind of guy. I’d never really had a serious relationship, and I’d certainly never lived with anyone but umm…. but when I met you everything changed. I wanted to be the man who was always there, who could be relied on. I wanted to be the guy that you always wanted to come home to. Who you could tell your secrets and fears to so I could make everything ok. I want to be that man for the rest of my life (y/n). I want to be that man for you. So I guess what I’m trying to say is…'' he stopped pacing and knelt in front of you, pulling a ring box from his pocket.

“What I’m trying to say is (y/n) will you make me the happiest man in the world and become my wife?”

You sat there, too shocked to speak, tears streaming down your face. Slowly, you lent forward, nodding frantically as you threw your arms around Jake’s neck.

“Umm darling I’m gonna need you to use your words,” Jake mumbled into your hair. You drew away quickly.

“Oh yes. God yes. 100% yes Jake! I love you so much.”

Jake beamed from ear to ear and laughed happily, slipping the delicate ring onto your finger.

“I love you too darling.”

‘Next thing you know

Your best man gives a half-drunk speech’

“And so yeah… that’s how Jake got his callsign.” Bradley slurred drunkenly, raising his glass of Prosecco into the air as he swayed wildly. Bob and Fanboy had hold of him on either side to stop him from falling.

Everyone laughed and Jake’s face was bright red, embarrassed that Bradley had just shared one of his biggest secrets. You laughed beside your husband. Husband. You couldn’t quite believe that this perfect man beside you was your husband, that he had chosen you. As if Jake knew what you were thinking he linked his hand with yours.

“You look, perfect darling. You're so beautiful. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” You smiled up at him before pressing a delicate kiss to his lips.

“Well, I think I’m the lucky one. I don’t know how I ended up with this hunk of an aviator but I'm so glad I did.” Jake pressed a loving kiss on your forehead and you shut your eyes, enjoying his warm embrace.

“I love you,” Jake whispered.

“I love you too.” Your peaceful moment was soon interrupted by Phoenix shouting for help as she disappeared after a very drunk Bradley who jumped around singing ‘Great Balls of Fire’. Jake sighed “Why do I always have to deal with a drunk Rooster? It’s always me.” He moaned, standing up from his chair. “Duty calls.”

You laughed, “ Go get ‘em handsome.” Smiling you watch your husband head over to your friends. At that moment you thought to yourself, you’d never really mentioned children to Jake before but he would make an amazing father.

‘Next thing you know

There's a test on the counter’

The test had been sitting on the bathroom side for half an hour now and you still couldn’t bring yourself to look. You were sitting on the bed next to Jake, hands interlocked as you both stared at the bathroom door.

“Darling, I think we should look. We need to know ok.” He rubbed a soothing circle on your lower back. You swallowed and nodded at him.

“You look. I’m too nervous… I can’t…” Your voice broke and a few tears trickled down your cheek. Jake caught them with this thumb as he held the side of your face. “It’s going to be ok love. Whatever the test shows it’s going to be ok.” With that he stood up and walked slowly into the bathroom, retrieving the test from the counter and slowly turning it over in his palm. You watched his face intently for any sign of a change and when he turned to you he had a bright smile on his face and tears filled his green eyes. “Baby it’s positive.” You looked at him shocked as he hurried over to you, placing the white stick into your palm. You looked down, hands shaking as you saw it, that little pink plus. Your breathing increased, hands continued to shake as you turned to your husband. “It’s… it’s positive… I’m… we’re having a baby Jake… we’re having a baby.”

“Yes, we are,” Jake sobbed, pulling you into him as you both cried. “We’re going to be parents.” He cried into your shoulder and you held him close, you were now comforting him. “We are Jake, we are.” You both held each other for a long time and by the time you finally let go it had become dark outside. “First thing tomorrow we need to go to the doctor, I wanna get one of those little picture things to show the Dagger Squad.” Jake began reeling off all the things we’d have to do and things we would need.

“Jake. Jake just calm down, baby. Ok. It’s ok we can do this, let's just take things slow. Tomorrow we can go for a scan and get a sonogram.”

“Ok,” Jake replied, grinning like a madman. “Thank you so much.” He said before pulling you in for another hug. “Thank you.”

‘Cause next thing you know

You're wearing scrubs and a funny white hat and the

Doctor's sayin', how you doin' there dad’

Your entire pregnancy has gone smoothly. The baby had been growing well and you’d had little discomfort with very little morning sickness. Jake kept telling you how much you were growling and he loved you more and more each day. You had everything planned and your hospital bag packed but your baby had other ideas. You’d had cramps all evening and Jake had been rubbing your back and giving you hot water bottles to try and help. You’d both gone to bed early but you were woken in the early hours of the morning in agony. You groaned, propping yourself up and that’s when you felt the wetness between your legs, pulling back the covers you were met with a scene from a horror film. There was blood all down your legs and all over the sheets. “Jake!” You grabbed his shoulder, shaking it violently. “Jake please,” you sobbed, shaking your husband as he woke up with a start.

“Darling? Darling, what’s wrong?” He looked down at you and his face beams deathly white. “Oh shit. Darling, we gotta get you to the hospital. Come on.” He helped you up and out to the car, before grabbing the hospital bag. You must have broken every traffic law on the way to the hospital.

You were crying in agony when you got to the hospital and Jake carried you from the car and into the lobby. As soon as you were in the hospital it was like a whirlwind. There were doctors and nurses everywhere and the pain was getting worse. Jake was there throughout, smoothing the hair across your head and whispering comforting words in your ear. At one point one of the doctors took Jake out of the room and it seemed like an eternity until they returned. You found yourself becoming more tired and you were fighting to keep your eyes open. You could hear the heartbeat monitor beside you slowing slightly and Jake’s voice in the distance before everything went black.

It was something from Jake’s worst nightmare. He’d read up on all the things that could go wrong throughout pregnancy but he never thought it would happen to you. As soon as you crashed he was ushered out of the room by a nurse and forced to sit in the waiting room as he watched more and more staff flood into your room. Not long after a doctor came out and explained that you had hemorrhaged and was thrusting a consent form for a c- section under his nose. Jake was frozen to the spot as the doctor explained all the risks but he didn’t have a choice. It was your only choice and he wasn’t about to let you die. He signed it quickly before passing it back to the doctor.

“You have to save them please.” He could feel tears streaming down.

“We will do our best.” Was all the doctor said before walking down the corridor. Jake broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. He could lose you, he couldn’t lose either of you. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled the number of the only person he could think of.

“Hey Jake what’s up? It’s pretty early man, what are you doing up?”

“I… I need you. Something wrong with (y/n)… the baby… I.”

“Hey, hey man slow down. Where are you?” Rooster asked, adrenaline running through his veins.

“We’re Umm… we’re at the hospital.”

“I’m on my way. Ok. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Jake hung up without replying and sat there in silence. There was nothing else he could do except sit and wait. When Bradley arrived the tears came flooding again and he held Jake in his arms, trying to comfort him. He’d sent a message to Phoenix on the way over here and she said she’d pass the news on to the rest of the Dagger Squad. They all pulled together during (y/n)’s pregnancy and had become a support net for the couple so they were all feeling the same fear Jake was.

They couldn’t lose (y/n) and the baby.

It felt like hours they had sat in the waiting room before eventually, the doctor came to see them. He explained that (y/n)’s condition was stable and so was the baby. They were both going to be ok. He allowed both men into your room although you were still recovering from the anaesthetic.

Jake couldn’t believe his eyes when he walked in. You were so very pale and your eyes were still closed. “Oh baby,” Jake rushed to your side, cradling your face in his hands as he kissed your forehead. Tears began to flow down his cheeks again. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“Mr. Seresin?” One of the nurses was standing in the doorway with a small white bundle in her arms. “I thought you’d like to meet your son.”

“My…my son? I have a son?” Jake stammered, stumbling towards the door.

“Yes, you do. You have a son. Would you like to take a seat and then you can hold him?”

Jake wordlessly sat in the chair beside your bed and the nurse placed the small bundle into his arms before leaving the room. Looking down Jake could see the tiny little human wriggling around in his blanket. He had his eyes and your nose and a small dusting of blonde hair on his head. “He’s perfect,” Jake whispered and Rooster made his way over to his friend, peeking over his shoulder. “Oh, Jake, he's beautiful. He looks just like you guys.”

Jake nodded, silently taking in his son's appearance. The two men didn’t notice as you stirred beside them. Your eyes fluttered open and you took in your surroundings. The pain you felt earlier was now just a dull ache, although you felt sore across your lower abdomen. You turned to your side and couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Your husband was sitting, tears in his eyes, smiling down at a small white bundle, while Bradley was standing beside him with the same look of awe on his face. You coughed lightly and the two men looked up at you. “Oh, darling, you're awake.” Jake handed the baby over to Bradley, who stood awkwardly, trying to support his head.

“Oh, god love. You gave me such a fright, I thought I’d lost you.” Jake’s eyes shone with tears and you reached up your hand, cradling his face. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” You laughed.

“Don’t worry darling, I never want to get rid of you. I love you so much. I…” He began when there was a soft cry from behind you. You both looked around at Bradley who was grinning excitedly. “(Y/n) there’s someone here who's very keen to meet you.” Jake helped prop you up with the pillows, as Bradley slowly bought your son over.

“Oh, Jake, they're beautiful.” You said as the child was lowered into your arms.

“Yes, he is.” Jake agreed.

“He? Do we have a son? Jake, we have a baby boy. Hi little guy I’m your mummy.”

“You certainly know how to make an entrance little man.”

The couple looked so comfortable, cuddled up together with their newborn. Bradley snapped a quick picture before saying his goodbyes. He sent the picture straight to the Dagger group chat, who were all relieved that both (y/n) and the baby were ok.

“Have you thought of any names for the little guy?”

Jake nuzzled his face into your shoulder. “Well we talked about so many different names but after everything we went through tonight there’s only one I can think of.” You looked at him questioningly.

Jake continued, “well when you crashed and the doctors said you needed surgery the only person I could think of calling was Bradley. He’s been there for us through everything and…”

“I think Bradley’s perfect.” You grinned at your husband.

“You do?“ He asked, eyes filled with hope.

“Yes, I do.”

You both looked down at the little boy in your arms. “Hey Bradley, welcome to the world.”

Nestled in that hospital room was Jake’s whole world, he couldn’t see a world without you in it and now he couldn’t see one without Bradley either.

Tags: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @topguncortez @blue-aconite @mayhem24-7forever @a-reader-and-a-writer

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my writing or use the tag list in my bio

#top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #topgun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster

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jessamine-rose · 2 years

Text

꧁⪡ Alea Iacta Est ⪢꧂

Aaahh so here is part 2 of Housecat!! This continuation is written from Pantalone’s POV and features much darker content. Read the first fic before you proceed :>

Once again, thank you to @bye-bye-sunbird and @ddarker-dreams for the inspiration!! Same goes to @diodellet for your entertaining peer review and @yandere-romanticaa for your interest in reading this (*´∇｀*)

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, coercion, electrocution, offscreen death, psychological damage, Dottore is here, mention of drugging, mention of nsfw, dubcon, spice, MINORS DNI

Note:: Female cat-hybrid reader, pre-release Pantalone based on current lore crumbs

♡ 5.5k words under the cut ♡

i. the red string of fate

Love is nothing more than a contract.

The Regrator, of all people, is well aware of this fact. Love is an agreement easily forged and broken, an attraction founded on set conditions and self-serving fantasies. In a world of inequity, it is impossible for any relationship to be purely selfless nor unconditional.

The illusion of love persists, however, supported by centuries of myths. Soulmates. Star-crossed lovers. The red string of fate spun by the will of the gods.

How romantic.

Many would claim that Pantalone’s feelings are anything but love. They would dub him greedy, ambitious, obsessed, possessive, and so many other negative traits which ironically constitute the true essence of love. What he finds most insufferable are the claims that his efforts are futile against destiny.

If the gods deem him unworthy of love, he will pursue it on his own volition.

If the red string of fate ties his beloved to another, he will sever the threads and bind her to him with his own chains.

If his precious jewel rejects her owner, he will ruin her until she finally accepts her place in the world.

⬩◈⬩

Since her horrific revelation, his darling has become an amusing juxtaposition of obedience and defiance.

“What do you think of the present, my darling? Isn’t it a perfect fit?”

Pantalone clasps the jewelry around her neck. ______ blankly stares at her reflection.

The necklace is a simple accompaniment to her collar. The silver bell pendant makes soft tinkling noises with every little movement.

Its luster cannot compare to his darling’s tears.

“It’s…minimalist,” she answers. Her ears fold back. “But the bell is in poor taste. Do you expect me to wear this at all times?”

Pantalone smiles at her in the mirror.

“You wound me. And you are normally so enamored with my choices,” he replies. His hands rest on her shoulders. “The collar is already a perfect statement piece on its own.”

Zero wounds from the Electro Crystals. Sandrone’s craftsmanship is commendable.

Her tail relaxes. The violet bow is slightly askew; she must have been extra agitated today. Pantalone unravels it and reties the ribbon.

His hand brushes against her Vision. ______ immediately covers it with her own.

“You should get back to work,” she tells him. “I saw the reports on your desk earlier. What would the Tsaritsa say if she knew you were wasting your time on me?”

How foolish of her to bring up Her Majesty’s name.

“Matters of the heart do not concern Her Majesty so long as my work is unaffected. I can assure you that I am perfectly capable of separating my private and professional lives.”

His hand wraps around her tail. His grip is light but he can already feel the soft fur standing on edge.

“You know, it has been a while since I last saw you use your Vision,” he muses. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to watch your enchanting display again.”

“...All right.” His darling stares at her collar this time. “If that is what you want.”

Her hands are shaking. The sparks and red threads are thinner than usual.

Her fire is such a pretty spectacle. But it can only be viewed from a distance, a beacon of hope untouchable to its audience.

“There is no need to hold back, my love.” Pantalone waits for the fire to extinguish before he wipes her tears with his handkerchief. His other hand taps her collar. “You will only get shocked if you abuse your Vision. You won’t do that again, will you?”

She does not look at him. Recalling her previous attempts, most likely.

“I won’t. The last thing I need is to wake up to another one of your lectures.”

There is a bitter edge to her voice. Her tail slips out of his grasp and knocks over the empty necklace box.

He pats her head, smiling. “What a well-behaved pet. If I finish work early, I can take you to the shopping district tomorrow. We haven’t gone out in weeks.”

“I see. Do keep track of my purchases. I might just exceed my allowance.”

With that, ______ takes off the necklace and leaves the vanity table. She makes a point to push her unused shackles onto Pantalone’s side of the bed.

Despite her denial, she truly does act like a housecat at times.

As petty as she has become, his darling is making the most out of her cage. A pampered pet can never hope to gain the self-sufficiency of a stray. Any escape attempts would only bring her back to her owner.

Pantalone returns the necklace to its box, humming an old tune from Liyue. ______ covers her ears with the pillow.

Her neediness is sorely missed, however. He could easily demand her affection through more threats and gifts, but that would not be enough to satisfy his greed.

He would rather have her seek him out willingly.

ii. fool’s gold

A formal invitation announces a grand ball held in the capital of Snezhnaya. Another opportunity for the Regrator to make new business connections and to show off his darling wife.

“There should be a limit to the number of times I wear your colors,” she tells him. “By now, they likely view me as your little dress-up doll.”

“You are overthinking this.” Pantalone fastens the final accessory and fluffs up her tail. “We would not be the first couple to wear coordinated outfits. And think of it this way: An object takes after its master.”

He stands beside her in front of the mirror. They are only wearing matching jewelry this time. The violet jewels twinkle like artificial stars against their dark clothing.

______ frowns. “This necklace is too ostentatious, wouldn’t you say?”

Ungrateful pet.

“My priceless treasure,” he replies, the smile leaving his face, “you would do well to appreciate one’s generosity.”

A necklace of this price could feed so many empty stomachs in Liyue.

He grips the chain, allowing the jewels to press against her throat, and glares at her in the mirror.

“I’m sorry!” she says quickly. Her hands move to her neck in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure. “It must have been expensive. The…the design simply isn’t my type.”

“It is either this necklace or your collar, ______. Or are you secretly impartial to showing off my marks to the world?”

His other hand touches the love bites dotting her neck and chest. He had chosen an off-shoulder gown and an elaborate festoon necklace for that reason.

She averts her gaze. “...No, I’ll go with the first option.”

He lets go of the chain and readjusts the necklace.

His darling grips her tail with both hands. Her nails are newly trimmed and manicured after their last night of intimacy. Pantalone’s back is still healing from her scratch marks.

Even when he was kind enough to pleasure her, his darling took the opportunity to spite him. He had to use the shackles for their remaining rounds and her declawing session.

He adjusts her Vision this time. “I trust that you won’t cause a scene.”

“Of course.” She turns around and gives him a false smile. “This was part of our marriage contract, after all. I will assume the role of a loving wife for my sake.”

That is all. No clauses requiring loyalty or affection.

Pantalone’s smile is equally deceptive. “Stand by your promise. I will keep a close eye on you.”

⬩◈⬩

The ball is a waste of time—just the usual congregation of humorless businessmen, proud aristocrats, and annoying social climbers. The gilded superficiality of high society is no longer an otherworldly realm to the Regrator, but he is still grateful to have a companion.

It is more enjoyable when his darling is clinging to him like a frightful pet.

“My dear, you don’t need to stick to my side all night.” He shakes her tail off his wrist, smiling. “Are you that afraid of losing me in the crowd?”

“I’m not,” she whispers. Her hand grips his arm. “I don’t know anyone. They will just rope me into some meaningless conversation and gossip about ‘the Regrator’s trophy wife’ later on.”

They are nothing more than a crowd of foolish sycophants. But his darling is no different from them. If not for his riches, Pantalone is certain that she never would have spared him a glance.

Another admirer greets them and initiates a long speech about their loyalty to the Tsaritsa—a desperate farce before a Harbinger of all people. ______ smiles and nods along.

Well, the same may be said for his own attraction. He could have been apathetic to his darling’s existence had he not glimpsed her at the Shang family’s gala. She had looked so reserved, so pristine, until he came close enough to notice her cracks. Until he decided that he would be the one to break her.

The orchestra begins playing a lively symphony. The guests disperse to the dance floor and the edges of the ballroom.

“Would you care to dance?”

His darling’s thinly-veiled desperation is truly entertaining, especially as her gaze darts to the still-blabbering admirer.

He takes her hand, smiling. “Of course, my love.”

iii. odi et amo

Another letter is intercepted from Liyue.

Pantalone dismisses the messenger and opens the envelope. The letter is from his sister-in-law this time. Less valuable information, then.

It is just the usual family update, sans the necessary details which his darling would like to know. It ends with a sermon about marital conduct and the importance of “not being a nuisance to the Regrator.”

He smiles at the last line. The Lai family must have been quite shaken after the visit of the last Pyro Agent. Their previous letters are written in a similar fashion, all formal lectures with no ounce of concern for their little ______.

Had they met years ago, he would have envied his darling to the point of hatred. But now he can only feel pity for her.

Unfair as the world may be, there will always be certain pros and cons to one’s social status. Competence or inadequacy. Independence or loneliness. Ambition or sorrow.

Another agent knocks on the door.

“You may enter.”

They open the door and kneel. “My lord, your wife is returning to your office. As per your orders, she and her guard were only permitted to roam the eastern wing of Zapolyarny Palace.”

“You are dismissed.”

His darling’s letters are beginning to take up space in his desk. Pantalone adds the missive and locks the drawer.

The Fen wife recently wrote about a charm bracelet which his darling might like. He should add that item to his shopping list.

⬩◈⬩

Another obstacle to the Fatui brings extra work hours.

“Are you almost done? It’s late.”

Pantalone opens a new document. “I still have mountains of paperwork to go through. If you are tired, you may go to bed without me.”

The Northland Bank will be flooded with blood as soon as he catches those traitors.

His darling remains on his lap.

“It’s fine. I’m not sleepy yet,” she replies. She points at the stack of unchecked reports. “What are these about, anyway?”

“A few traitors. Some unforeseen interferences. A pesky little Traveler who has proven themselves to be quite the infernal threat.” He takes off his glasses and polishes the lenses.

He is due for another all-nighter.

______ turns her head. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He gives her a wry look. “You seem awfully concerned about my wellbeing. If you plan to take advantage of my current state, you are better off using subtler tactics.”

Her ears twitch. “You are still my husband. If anything happens to you, my welfare is at stake. I can’t assist you with work but I can at least provide some stress relief.”

Stress relief, huh?

His darling faces forward again. Her ears are pushed back, a clear indication of anger. It is an ineffective warning—they are nothing more than the soft, fluffy traits of a domestic cat.

Pantalone puts his glasses back on and pets her ears.

Her gasp is preceded by soft purrs. “What are you—? Stop! My ears are—”

He laughs, pressing a kiss against the back of her ear. “I know. So sensitive.”

His hand moves to the front of her dress and pulls down the neckline. Her love bites have already faded to near-invisible spots. It is about time for him to renew his marks.

“Pantalone.” She stands up and turns around, tail puffing up. “You still have work.”

“It won’t take long. Besides, was it not you who offered to alleviate my stress?”

He pulls her towards him, forcing her to straddle his lap, and touches the base of her tail.

“But still!” She bites back another purr. “Could we at least do this in the bedroom? The servants are still in the corridor. They might hear us—this is hardly appropriate!”

Until now, she still finds it necessary to retain her modesty. Her debauched noises during the act say otherwise.

It only takes a kiss to shut her up. He cups her face, smiling at every hitched breath and plea for air.

He will never grow tired of tainting her.

“My love,” he murmurs. He breaks off the kiss and presses their foreheads together. “Just think of it as fulfilling the contract you agreed to.”

⬩◈⬩

“Pantalone?”

“Yes?”

“Do you…plan to have children in the future?”

The pen hits the desk. It rolls across the wood, stopping just short of falling off the edge.

This is unexpected.

Pantalone clears his throat. “Can you repeat that?”

For someone who had made such a serious inquiry, his darling refuses to even look at him. She shifts in his lap, staring at his unfinished report.

And to think that he would not be the first to initiate this conversation.

“If this is about the contraceptives, I already told you that we are using a high-quality medication with no side effects. It is my turn to take them, anyway.”

Her tail thumps against his chest. “It’s not about the birth control.”

“Then what is this about? If you remain ambiguous, I may assume that you are asking for children.”

That would be a delightful surprise. Families do make for efficient binding agreements.

“I don’t know if I want that,” she mumbles. Her hands grip the desk. “It’s just…if you have any plans for the future, I want to be prepared for it. I spend enough time idling about and causing trouble for you.”

Not a direct refusal. What an interesting answer.

Thinking about it now, she had broached this topic in the early days of their marriage. Something about her lack of responsibilities and the Fen wife’s maternal duties.

Pantalone picks up his pen and continues writing. “As of now, starting a family is of low priority to me. We may continue this conversation once the Tsaritsa’s perfect world has been achieved.”

And when that happens, he will have all the time in the world to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Ironically, that statement only makes his darling more agitated.

“I see. I’ll enjoy my last pieces of freedom,” she mutters.

He puts down his pen. “My darling, are you merely bored with your current routine? Or are you looking for an excuse to devote your time to someone other than me?”

At the last statement, she turns to face him.

“Not at all!” she exclaims. Her eyes are wide with panic. “I like your company; I really do! Anyway, I couldn’t possibly treat a child with your degree of care and attention.”

It is good that she knows that.

“That is good to hear.” Pantalone smiles and wraps his arms around her, pressing her back against his chest. “I won’t demand a child or anything else from you. End of discussion.”

“I see…thank you for telling me.”

His darling stares ahead, but the relaxed positions of her ears and tail are a substantial response. He rests his chin on her shoulder.

“Besides,” he adds, “I would rather have you all to myself for the time being.”

iv. faustian bargain

The next few months are relatively peaceful. A pattern of gifts, dances, galas, red threads, intimate nights, banter, and mind games. Pantalone is pleased to note that his darling is gradually becoming more resigned to her cage. She has almost reverted back to her needy, pliable self.

Unfortunately, the gods always choose the best of times to tip the scales.

“I’m home.”

Pantalone has barely closed the door before his darling stomps over to him.

“My necklace is missing,” she informs him.

He pauses, coat in hand. “Which one?”

She leads him to her dressing room without so much of a word.

The farthest corner of the room is reserved for her old accessories. It is a haphazard mess of half-opened drawers and scattered jewelry boxes.

______ opens the topmost drawer and points at the necklace section. There are large, even spaces in between the necklaces.

“Someone rearranged it. My brother’s wedding gift used to be on the far left,” she explains. “It was a gold necklace with a pendant shaped like a Nilotpala lotus.”

Pantalone glances at the boxes on the floor. “Are you sure that you didn’t misplace it?”

“How could I? You don’t let me wear it to begin with,” she snaps, gesturing to her collar. “This isn’t the only one. I can’t find the box holding my Sango pearl necklace.”

A thief in his own estate. What a wonderful surprise.

In their entire marriage, this is his first time seeing his darling in such an incensed state. Aside from her swishing tail and folded back ears, her eyes are filled with enough burning fury to rival his own glare.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “My darling, for what reason would I engage in petty theft behind your back? I could easily confiscate your possessions.”

“I don’t know. But I am not trusting the same person who chose what I could bring to Snezhnaya.” She glares at him, eyes filling with tears. “I am fine with wearing your gifts, but is it too much to even look at my old belongings?”

“Wild accusations will do more harm than good,” he shoots back. “Did it not occur to you that someone else could have done it?”

His darling only laughs. “The servants, maybe, but they wouldn’t dare to steal from you. Unless you paid them to do it on your behalf.”

She opens the closet and takes out her coat.

“______.” It takes effort to maintain his composure. “Where are you going?”

“To the gardens. Forgive me for not being able to stand your presence.”

She leaves the dressing room. Pantalone follows her.

He reaches for her hand. “Darling, I—”

“Just go away!”

A burst of flames appears out of thin air, almost grazing him. Pantalone stumbles back, glasses clattering to the floor.

The sound of glass breaking is followed by the shock of Concentrated Overload.

His darling screams and collapses to the floor.

Pantalone takes a step closer. “You shouldn’t—”

“Don’t get any closer!” she shouts. She claws at her collar, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You ruined my life. I wish I never met you!”

Her honesty could not be any more brutal.

Pantalone draws back as though he has been slapped. His darling’s glare remains fiery.

At this point, diplomatic attempts at reconciliation are futile.

He picks up his glasses. The frames are warm from where the fire touched them. The chain is broken and one of the lenses is cracked.

“I do not blame you for your lack of trust in me,” he says coldly. He walks past her and opens the door. “I will give you some space if that is what you truly want.”

More sobs. Pantalone leaves the room and almost crashes into one of the servants.

“Lord Harbinger!” she squeaks. She bows immediately. “I apologize for not seeing you!”

“It is all right,” he replies, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. He glances at her uniform. “You are one of my wife’s handmaidens. You go by the alias Myshkin, correct?”

“Y…Yes, my lord!”

A glint of silver flashes in her hand.

He frowns at her. “What are you holding? Have you found my wife’s missing jewelry?”

She jumps and averts her gaze. “What? I…yes, I did!”

Her hands are trembling. She opens her palm to reveal a familiar Vajrada Amethyst ring.

That little rat.

Myshkin is speaking a mile a minute. “I found it in the living room and was just about to return it. As soon as I saw it, I knew it must have been the ring Lady ______ was looking for!”

His darling has not worn it once in Snezhnaya. Neither did she mention the disappearance of that ring.

Pantalone takes it, a grateful smile on his face. “Thank you, Myshkin. I will remember this.”

She turns to the door. “Is Lady ______ all right?”

“Just a little shocked. Go tend to her.”

“Yes, my lord!”

Had she entered the room a second later, Myshkin would have witnessed the Regrator’s death glare directed at her.

⬩◈⬩

The Doctor’s office is a place of nightmares. Beyond the laboratory, his section of Zapolyarny Palace is filled with preserved specimens, glowing test tubes, anatomical sketches, and a pervasive aura of malevolence. Even the meeting room is far from welcoming.

“Ninth, I assume you summoned me for another private commission. How is your wife? I believe your wedding anniversary has recently passed.”

“Spare me the formalities, Dottore.” Pantalone takes a seat on the sofa. “I received your request for additional funds. The numbers are out of proportion, but I can overlook that if you throw in a personal favor for me. I believe you will find this commission more suited to your preferences.”

Dottore puts down his test tube and sits across from him. “What do you mean?”

Pantalone gestures to the package on the table.

“I would like you to soak these garments in a flammable substance, one so potent that it would guarantee inescapable death for the wearer once they come into contact with fire. The chemical should have an inconspicuous scent and remain effective after numerous washes.”

“What an interesting request. And who is this unlucky victim?” Dottore opens the box and takes out a set of maid uniforms.

That Myshkin had been stupid enough to steal memorable jewelry. Everyone knows that the wealthy are less likely to notice the disappearance of smaller pieces, moreso if those items are sold to a reasonably far-off pawnshop.

“You are quite literally playing with fire, and it seems that your employee is not the only target. Tell me, is it not easier to deal with them and your darling separately?”

Pantalone straightens his glasses. The new chain twinkles under the dim light.

“Think of it as killing two birds with one stone. It would be uncharacteristic of me to ignore an opportunity when it is presented to me.”

Dottore snickers. “Your poor little housecat. And to think you started out with something as innocent as catnip-laced perfume.”

“That is none of your business. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.” Dottore sits back, a maniacal grin on his face. “Though I must demand payment. A chemical of this potency will be costly to produce, especially if I am to ensure maximum quality by using test subjects.”

Pantalone clasps his hands together, smiling. “Name your price.”

v. alea iacta est

Pantalone upholds his promise and grants his darling her desired solitude. He moves her to a different bedroom and works longer hours in Zapolyarny Palace. On the rare occasion that they cross paths in the estate, he scarcely acknowledges her.

Myshkin and her fellow handmaiden provide daily reports of ______’s activities and behavior. The former wears her new set of uniforms.

His darling holds on to her pride. She makes no requests for gifts or company. She continues her flimsy pastimes, sans the use of her Vision. She bristles at his silent treatment but makes no effort to approach him.

This is what her life could’ve been like had she married Chairman Jin. If she knows what is good for her, she will not compare that nullified fate to her reality.

The days are longer for Pantalone. The situation reminds him of their former days, that year spent patiently waiting and working behind the scenes and settling for the lightest of touches. But the reward had been worth it.

This time, he must only wait for his darling to come to him.

⬩◈⬩

“Lord Harbinger!”

The door slams open. The agent does not bother to kneel.

Pantalone barely looks up from his contract. “We are in the middle of a meeting. What matter is so important that you must disturb me and my client?”

“It concerns your wife, my lord! An accident has occurred in your household.”

About time.

He faces his client. “My apologies, but I must ask that we resume our negotiations some other time. I am afraid that my wife’s situation seems to be of dire urgency.”

“Naturally! It isn’t a problem.” The diplomat bows and puts away their reports. “Thank you for your time, Lord Harbinger.”

Pantalone leaves the conference room and faces the agent. “Tell me what happened.”

“Your wife attacked a servant with her Pyro Vision. We have already extinguished the fire and summoned a doctor, but her handmaiden is in unstable condition.”

All according to plan. “Are there any additional details which I need to know?”

They pause. “I was not present during the event, but I was told that the incident took place in your wife’s dressing room. She is currently afflicted with her collar’s Concentrated Overload as well as psychological shock.”

He resists the urge to smile. “Anything else?”

“Your wife asked for you, my lord. She specifically requested your presence as the guards were restraining her.”

How endearing.

“Cancel my remaining appointments for the day. That will be all.”

⬩◈⬩

The collateral damage only costs a few hundred thousand Mora. A singed carpet. Scorched closets. The doctor’s fee. The silence of the servants.

Pantalone barely regards the charred corpse in the servant’s quarters. According to the doctor, Myshkin had succumbed to her wounds shortly before his arrival.

In the end, she paid back her debt in blood.

Not a sound can be heard from his darling’s room.

He unlocks the door. Warm light spills into the dark room, highlighting the figure chained to the bed.

His precious jewel has never looked more pitiful. Her ears lay flat against her head and her tail is tucked between her legs. There are tearstains on her face.

Her Vision is on the floor. He wonders if it was her or the servants who had thrown it.

“You’re back.” She looks up, a fresh wave of tears trickling down her cheeks. “It was an…I didn’t mean to! I just…”

“Shh, I know.” He presses his handkerchief against her cheek. “They told me what happened. We couldn’t have predicted that your Vision would cause such a disaster.”

Her voice comes out in choked sobs. “It is my fault. I caught her…I was angry but she didn’t deserve—I can still hear her screams. What will I do?”

No friction burns or signs that she struggled against the shackles. Pantalone frees her wrists and hugs her.

“It is all right,” he whispers. “I will take care of everything.”

Another sniffle. She buries her face into his coat, soaking the fabric with her tears.

“I am more concerned about you,” he continues. He breaks off the hug and looks her in the eye. “My love, how are you feeling? It must have been such a difficult experience for you. If you need anything, just tell me.”

For a moment, his darling only stares at him with glassy eyes. Then she shakes her head and holds his hand, gripping it so tightly that her nails dig into his gloves.

“Stay,” she pleads. Her tail wraps around his wrist. “Please, I…just don’t leave me.”

Pantalone kisses her hand, a kind smile gracing his face. “I promise.”

vi. diabolic waltz

Myshkin’s death is covered up as a furnace accident. The false notice is sent to her relatives, along with a large sum of Mora for financial aid.

It is the least the Regrator could do for a desolate family.

His darling moves back to their bedroom. She spends the majority of the first night crying in his arms and seeking out his comfort. The next morning, she meekly accepts the Nilotpala lotus pendant and Sango pearls he had bought back from the pawnshop. The subsequent days are filled with silent apologies and thank you’s.

A week after the incident, she leaves their room to visit his private office.

“Are you still working?”

Pantalone looks up from his report. “This can wait. Do you need anything, my darling?”

“Not at the moment.” She stands in front of his desk, tail tucked between her legs. She is wearing only her nightdress and collar today. “Take this.”

She places her Vision on his desk.

He reacts with a carefully crafted frown. “______, why are you giving this to me? I believe you know the risks of losing a Vision.”

“I am better off without it,” she mutters. She pushes it into his hands. “It has always been wasted on me. You deserve to have it.”

In the end, fire is just another illusion. Despite the light it offers, it can only consume.

Pantalone lifts it up to the window. The Pyro Vision is brighter than any false star in the sky. He can feel its powerful warmth through his gloves.

The gifts of the gods, now in his grasp. But there is a far greater treasure standing before him.

He sets it aside. “I will take good care of it, then.”

“Is there anything else I can do?” His darling moves closer to him, tail raised. “You’ve done so much for me. I will do whatever it takes to repay the favor.”

Pantalone smiles at her and leaves his desk. “You only need to stay by my side. Though, I would not be opposed to other modes of payment.”

She nods and walks into his embrace.

⬩◈⬩

“I have a new gift for you.”

“Another one?”

His darling frowns at the package. “You know how I feel about your gifts. Just being with you is already enough.”

“Think of it as a gift for myself, then.” Pantalone pats her head, ruffling her ears. “I do enjoy spoiling my beloved pet.”

She purrs and hugs him again. “Fine, all right. That just means more cuddles for you.”

His precious jewel has shattered. She is much more affectionate nowadays.

The servants finish unpacking the phonograph. They pull back the curtains and leave the room.

______ regards it with curious eyes. “A Witch’s Chorus. What sort of music does it play?”

“Why don’t we find out?”

Pantalone places the record on the turntable and flips the power switch. The instrument begins to play a slow, festive orchestral arrangement.

Her ears prick forward. “This…it sounds familiar. Where did I last hear it?”

“Quite nostalgic, isn’t it? It is the musical score from our first dance.”

“That explains it.” She turns to face him, eyes shining brightly. “It was a waltz. How could I forget?”

The fire in her eyes has been completely extinguished. Though her gaze never fails to light up at any mention of their lost memories together.

Pantalone holds out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Her hand feels soft in his grip. “It would be my pleasure.”

No red threads this time. His darling follows his lead, a peaceful smile on her face. During the final spin, she is quick to return to his grasp.

“Pantalone?”

“Yes, my darling?”

She meets his gaze.

“I love you.”

Pantalone almost stumbles. He stops in the middle of the dance floor.

It is difficult to hide his surprise. “Please repeat that.”

“I love you.” She says it clearly, still holding his gaze. Her expression becomes anxious. “Is there…something wrong with how I said it?”

He never imagined that those words could be said to him with such utmost sincerity.

Pantalone only laughs and resumes the waltz. At this point, they are dancing off-beat to the music but there is no crowd to judge them. Only the stars visible through the windows, twinkling across the sky like unfathomable jewels.

“No, it was perfect. You just caught me off-guard,” he admits. He smiles, pulling her closer. “I love you too.”

♡

Read the Author’s Note here!!

It is done……I am finally free from this fic. I never want to see Pantalone’s pretty face ever again. This greedy man rlly made me write a two-part fic that was longer than Herbarium and Fairytale combined (੭ ˃̣̣̥ ㅂ˂̣̣̥)੭ु

I hope you all enjoyed the Regrator’s twisted love story. I hope you all liked my yandere characterization of him. I hope you all suffer from brainrot while I get some rest and question my life choices. Thank you for reading and have a lovely day, everyone <3

#pantalone #yandere pantalone #yandere pantalone x reader #pantalone x reader #yandere fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #il dottore #dottore #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: manipulation #tw: death #tw: dubcon #spicy warning #mdni #fem reader #jessamine-writing

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witchwyfe · 2 months

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here with me - tik

pairing - college! Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x female reader

précis - mav makes a bet during the soccer's teams getaway.

content/warnings - language, annoyance towards maverick, fluff

word count - 933

a/n - college soccer player ice series

“Okay, you know this is actually really stupid.” You complain, curled up in the backseat of Carole’s car. “Everyone else wants to sleep together, why can’t we?”

“You know how the guys are,” Ice huffs from the other end of the phone. “They’re turning it into a competition.”

“Yeah, and who’s idea was it?” You scoff. “Maverick’s. He’s single and an asshole, he doesn’t have any stake in the game, of course he would propose something like this.”

Something like this being, for your autumn break trip to a cabin, sleeping arrangements are all girls together, and all boys together. Despite the fact, that the trip is made up of some of the soccer team, and their girlfriends. Mav even thought it would be funny to have whoever caves first, buy everyone dinner on the last night.

You sigh loudly, ignoring Carole’s chuckle from the driver’s seat. Her and Goose finally got their shit together, and they’ve been happily dating since summer.

“And of course you won’t crack, because you love to win.” You whine pitifully, more to yourself than your boyfriend. “I’ll see you when we get there.”

You hang up and shove your phone into your purse, leaning your head against the window, watching a flurry of orange as you pass a multitude of trees.

Not much more time passes before you’re pulling up at the cabin, clearly the last ones there, if the amount of cars shoved into the dirt driveway, is anything to go by.

Ice, Goose, and Slider are quick to come out and help with the bags in the back of Carole’s trunk.

“Hiya honey,” Goose greets, before dipping Carole in a dramatic kiss. You turn to see Ice, and pout, before falling into his arms.

“Hey baby,” He murmurs, pressing a kiss at your hairline.

“Icey,” You whine. “Missed you.”

“Pretty girl.” He coos. “I missed you too.”

Following a week of mid-terms, you’d barely gotten to see your boyfriend. Both of you had stacked schedules with exams and papers, and Ice had a big game right before break began. You were looking forward to a long weekend with him, snuggled into his arms while you sleep, the way you hadn’t been able to.

His arms squeeze easily around your waist, and he lifts you a bit until you can’t help but smile. You fist your hands in the material of his sweatshirt.

“Was lookin’ forward to sleeping with you this weekend.” You tell him quietly. “I didn’t sleep well last week.”

“I know, me too.” He says, lips at your temple. “I’m sorry angel.”

“Not your fault your friends are stupid.”

He chuckles, squeezing you one more time before setting you down. He grabs your duffel bag and purse, waiting for you to shut your car door, before heading inside.

“Carole and I are sharing a room, I think,” You frown. “That’s what Marcy said in the group chat.” Marcy, Slider’s girlfriend, was also very upset about the sleeping arrangements, had coordinated which room everyone is staying in. Your boyfriend nods and continues in, before stopping at a room and gently setting your bags down.

You notice two beds, neither much bigger than a twin, but still an upgrade from the college dorm bed Ice had snuck in, to share with you countless times the previous year.

“Look baby,” You whine. “We could totally fit in here, you always cuddle up anyway.”

“I know, sweet girl,” He soothes with a kiss to your temple.

Carole comes in a second later, Goose rolling her suitcase while she spouts similar complaints that you had.

“Just because Mav isn’t getting any, doesn’t mean he has to ruin it for the rest of us.” She huffs, crossing her arms against her chest. Goose barely bites back his snort, throwing his head back in laughter before Carole sticks a withering glare on him.

You nod in agreement, turning towards her. “That’s what I was just telling him, I mean why did anyone invite him anyway? He’s fucking annoying.”

“Okay,” Ice warns softly. “Not that I don’t currently share the sentiment, but Mav’s room is right down the hall and I’m sure he can hear us.”

You roll your eyes but oblige, leaning into him. “Are we allowed to sit together on the couch at least?”

You packed everything you need for your night time routine and to sleep. Your face is washed, teeth are brushed, and now you’re scrolling on your phone, trying to chill before bed. Carole had long snuck out of your room and into Goose’s—you wish your boyfriend didn’t take everything so seriously. Goose laughed in Mav’s face when he proposed the competition—so it’s too quiet and you don’t have anyone to talk to. Right in the middle of your scroll through Tik Tok, your phone buzzes with a text.

I miss u

You smile, imagining your boyfriend curled up in his bed, missing you enough to send you text.

Come in

You respond.

Carole left. We can push the beds together :)

He sends back:

We don’t need that much room.

Less than a minute later, your door is being pushed open and your boyfriend, clad in boxers and an old crewneck is suddenly sliding in behind you, arms circling your waist.

“Missed you.” He mumbles into your neck, the tip of his nose cold against the skin.

“You’re not allowed to agree to any of Mav’s dumb bets, ever again.” You grumble. “Last time you had to bleach your hair and now this.”

“I know baby,” He coos. “No more, I promise.”

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe writing #witchwyfe #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x you #tom iceman kazansky imagine #tom iceman kazansky oneshot #tom iceman kazansky fanfiction #tom kazansky x reader #tom kazansky x you #tom kazansky imagine #tom kazansky oneshot #tom kazansky fanfiction #iceman x reader #iceman oneshot

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hlficlibrary · 10 months

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✤ Secret Relationship Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ Fall Into Your Gravity by @zarah5 (E, 74k)

AU. In which Harry is an overnight pop sensation and Louis steals plants, Zayn pulls Liam's proverbial pigtails and Niall's really just pleased there are more girls for him.

2️⃣ Emperor's New Clothes by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships (E, 92k)

The fact that Louis’s most precious belonging was a cat with a face like thunder and an uncanny ability to cover every single inch of Louis’s clothing with cat hair was something that Louis chose not to think about too much.

or: Harry’s a pop star and Louis isn’t, and there’s a non-disclosure agreement where there used to be a relationship.

3️⃣ Hands Clasped Tight by @afirethatcannotdie (E, 44k)

“What am I looking at here?” Harry asks.

“This, my friends, is a ‘proof’ Instagram account, run by your students,” Liam announces.

“It’s got all this stuff about how the two of you are together,” Niall adds.

“I heard about that,” says one of the math teachers. “Confiscated a kid’s phone today when they were looking at it. I have to say, the evidence that you’re dating is pretty damning.”

“Really,” Louis says dryly. “Do you think being married for three years might have something to do with it?”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

4️⃣ Learning to Breathe by youcomecrash / @drunkharrystyles-blog (E, 110k)

He’s playing football at one of the top universities in England and he should love everything about his life right now, but instead he’s moving backwards. How does your past fit into your present? Louis is still figuring it out.

5️⃣ so keep my candle bright by whisperdlullaby (E, 78k)

louis returns to his hometown after four years to find that the reverend’s son has done some growing up of his own.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 Caught In Your Gravity by @lululawrence (NR, 62k)

It felt like the blood froze in Harry’s veins even as he got a bit lightheaded. He hadn’t even made it two practices, only one of which he was remotely in charge of, without giving it all away and now he and Liam were both absolutely fucked.

“Shit,” Harry breathed out. “Who all have you told? Does everyone know? I thought I covered it better than that…”

“No, no,” Louis said quickly. "They’ll figure it out soon enough, though, because they’ll get used to you changing things up, but you’re only going to trip over your so called Americanisms for so long before they realize it’s because you don’t actually know fuck all about football.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah. I figured. I just need to bullshit for long enough to allow Liam to get the situation figured out from his end.”

“Right, which brings me to my entire point. I think we can find a mutually beneficial arrangement with all of this.” Louis leaned forward. “You need to learn the ins and outs of the sport incredibly fast. I can help you with that.”

“What do you want in exchange?”

Or, an AU inspired by a 30 second trailer of Ted Lasso that doesn't actually have much in common with the show at all.

💎 Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember by @jaerie (E, 54k)

Carefully he set that negative down and lifted the paper to see there was another beneath. This one again was a young man, this time posed against an antique car. He lifted a few more negatives out one by one, each a portrait of the same man with various backdrops. The man in a meadow, in an office, leaning against a doorframe — even one in his underwear grinning at the camera. On the edge of each negative printed in slanted, handwritten characters were the initials and date. H.S. 1924.

He quickly but carefully packed them back into the box and buzzed with excitement. He couldn’t wait to develop them to see exactly what had been captured in the images. It was a find that felt like a puzzle to piece together.

H.S. was likely the man in the photographs as well as the owner of the suitcase. Who was he? Why had his suitcase found its way into Niall’s attic? Was he still alive and well somewhere in the world?

A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.

💎 On Thin Ice by @neondiamond (E, 16k)

As the goaltender for one of the best hockey teams in the world, Harry never expected participating in his second winter Olympics would be so eventful. His hidden long-term relationship with the captain of their biggest rival team may have something to do with it.

💎 I Can Build Your Heart A Home by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove (T, 10k)

“I was just thinking," Niall says. Did you know that Louis came out as gay last year?”

Harry nearly chokes on his drink, just barely managing to swallow. “Hrng,” he manages, trying not to cough. “Um. Yeah, I think I saw it on Facebook. Good for him.”

“Well.” Niall shrugged. “I figured it just made sense."

Harry feels goosebumps rise on his arms. “What do you mean?”

“I just think you and Louis should date,” Niall says. “I think you’d be good together, you know? You were friends in high school, weren’t you?”

“Erm.” Harry swallows. “Friends isn’t exactly the term I’d use.” Niall doesn’t need to know what terms he would use.

Or, Harry and Louis kind of secretly sort of dated in high school. Now it's two years later and they're both back in town for Christmas and it's awkward. Until it isn't.

💎 Battle Of The Balls by bluegreenish / @greenblueish (M, 5k)

“Rim of the hole, Haz, really?” he gazes at the camera again. “This is getting demonetised and honestly, rightfully so. How are we still allowed to make videos? YouTube, why don’t you just do yourself the favour and delete our channels?”

“After everyone sees that I win this game though,” Harry winks, dimples still showing.

or, the one where YouTubers Harry and Louis play Golf With Friends, go to the pub with Niall and return home six hours after posting the video.

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eddiesmxse · 2 years

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You’re Staring - Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: None really. Well a mention of finger fucking eheheh. Lemme know if I missed anything. Not proofread lol

Okay I just had to write this down. Im gonna put the picture that made me think of this at the end skdjdkdjd

The stakes were high. The odds were against you and you guys were definitely heading into certain death. But you couldn’t help how you were damn near drooling over Eddie. There he was, just sitting with his legs close to his chest, hiding behind Steve’s seat and trying to keep a low profile, considering you were at a store with high traffic. His arms draped over each leg and hands dangling loosely in front of him, one holding the other.

His Hands.

His. Hands.

The rings, his fingers…just everything about them. God you couldn’t believe yourself. You guys are literally about to fight a fucked up, child murdering, power having psychopath and you’re thinking about your boyfriends HANDS. This had to be an all time low.

“sweetheart?” You hear him, saying one of your fave pet names but that didn’t pull you out of your trance. Is he vecna? Like this is insanity, how can hands be so so so pretty?

“Bunny?” Your ears perk up when you hear your actual favorite nickname and you blink away your sinister thoughts, tearing your eyes from his hands and looking up at him.

“Sorry what? Yeah?” You stumble, raising your brows slightly. You would be embarrassed but Eddie knows how much you love his hands so it’s not really that that’s got your face burning, it’s the fact you’re in this situation and all you can think about is being fingerfucked to the gods, by a god.

He chuckles, shaking his head and getting up from his seat and knee crawling his way over to you, putting his hands on your thighs, making you close your eyes for a second, reopening them to see your pretty boy looking up at you with a gorgeous smirk adorning his face.

“Whatcha thinking about?” He starts, biting his lip slightly.

“I’ll tell you later..” You say, shaking your head and putting your hands on his cheeks, rubbing your thumb across some of his freckles softly.

He brought his hands to your wrist, turning his head slightly and kissing your palm, looking back up at you.

“Oh cmon that’s not fair, spill it” he grumbles playfully, smiling a little wider when he saw you smile.

“It’s embarrassing, I shouldn’t be thinking about it right now” You whine, Leaning forward and wrapping your arms around him, giving him a light hug.

You sighed when he wrapped his arms around you, setting his hands on your lower back and pushing you a little bit closer to him.

“I get three guesses” He says into your neck, giving it a small kiss and smiling against it, moving his head to your ear. “That alright?” He questions, pulling back to see your face.

You only nod in agreement, laughing a little when he squints at you.

“Yes yes that’s fine, go ahead guess” You chuckle, rolling your eyes at him.

“It’s my hair?”

Nope.

“My face?”

Nope.

He smirks, biting the inside of his cheeks before pulling his arms back from around you, holding his hands up in front of your face, wiggling his fingers slightly.

“It’s my hands isn’t it?” He answers correctly, smiling smugly which makes you roll your eyes with a big stupid smile on your face.

“god I hate you, how’d you know?” You groan, putting your hands over your face*

“Baby you were staring so hard you didn’t even notice I was looking at you” He chuckles, pulling your hands from your face gently and leaning up to place a kiss on your cheek.

“Why do you know me so wellll?” you whine, crossing your arms over your chest, pouting like a kid.

“Because I know what you like” He answers smugly, dropping his hands on your sides. “And I love you.”

“Oh shutup” you squint, shaking your head at him.

He smiles before attacking your sides with tickles, causing you to erupt in a fit of giggles, trying to push his arms away.

“You guys are disgusting” Dustin groans, rolling his eyes are you two.

“Listen Butthead, when you see your girl again, I’m sure you’ll be exactly like me” Eddie scolds, pointing at him. “Mind your business”

You laugh at the two, watching Eddie get up and go over to the boy, starting to wrestle with him playfully.

There were no words to describe how much you loved him.

Something to hold you guys over whilst I finish savior pt 3 🫶🏾 love you guys. Also here’s the pic.

Taglist - @lily-sinclair-2006 @natashaashleymarvelromanoff @buckys2thicc @stratospherewalker

Creds to gif maker 🤍🫶🏾

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddiemunson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #st4 #joseph quinn #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie my beloved #eddiesmxse

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codebts · 2 years

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TEARS DRY (m)

couple jungkook/reader, ft. eunwoo

content smut, angst; hybrid au, university au; one-sided love, unprotected sex, descriptive sex, choking, spitting, slapping, degradation, marking, toxic behavior from both characters, crying, alcohol use, dirty talk, loss of virginity, i don’t even know what else.

summary “he walks away, the sun goes down. he takes the day, but i’m grown. and in your grey, in this cool shade, my tears dry on their own.”

words 6,570

author’s note hey. it’s vi. i made a new account, and i’m completely rewriting the series. i changed the title, since it didn’t quite fit the plot. it’s inspired by amy winehouse’s tear dry. the original, of course. fixed a lot of things that made me annoyed with the first part. it still isn’t completely perfect. i think it’s going to only be one part, but i’m not sure yet.

“So Jungkook,” asked Jaehyun one Wednesday afternoon, “what’s your relationship with (Name)?”

“(Name)? As in nerd (Name)?” Lian quipped, ears perking curiously.

Their captain’s relationships were often kept relatively private, so it was rather unusual for him to be linked to someone so publicly. . . and to a prey hybrid of all people.

As usual, the panther hybrid could only glare as his football teammates stared eagerly at him from across the table.

After a beat of silence, he clicked his tongue. “We did stuff. Once. Twice. It doesn’t mean anything.” He confessed reluctantly.

“She must be a pretty crier. . . if you know what I mean.” Yuta elbowed Kai, earning a soft chuckle.

“And she makes him lunch too. What a sweetheart.” Namjoon added, to which Seokjin nods in agreement. This seemed to suffice the team’s thirst for answers, and they quickly returned to their own conversations.

“She’s very kind, Kook. You shouldn’t be so harsh to her.” Jimin eyed the man. Jungkook could only roll his eyes before turning back to his phone.

All of a sudden, a familiar scent swept through the university’s cafeteria. Raspberry, violet, and amber — a mixture that could make any man, prey or predator, fall sick with hunger. There was only one individual’s scent that could have that effect on people and Jungkook couldn’t help but groan in dread.

“Jungkook!” You squealed, bounding towards him. You were wearing a knit sweater —stolen from Jungkook’s closet— and black trousers, paired with your favorite suede clogs. Two ivory ribbons were tucked at the base of your floppy rabbit ears, giving you a rather innocent appearance. You were anything but, the panther hybrid thought.

Unbeknownst to Jungkook, his teammates were more intrigued of his latest lover than he had initially thought. As confusing as this “couple” was to everyone, they could understand why he claimed your virginity. After all, you smelled delectable, and you were a feast to the eyes.

They observed you with curiosity and something akin to desire, so much so that Taehyung could practically feel their want. If Jungkook didn’t want you, they certainly did.

“Lucky bastard,” Soobin whispered, eyes lingering on your plush lips.

Jungkook looked up, black hair drooping softly over his honey-colored eyes. It gave him an almost smoldering gaze, and you couldn’t help but blush as you approached your crush of over a decade.

You had fatefully met him at a park near in your neighborhood, where he had been visiting his maternal grandmother. He had saved you from a group of predator boys who were toying with your prized telescope, a gift from your father. Even in your youth, you knew he was stronger than most— more powerful than most. An aura befitting of the most highest on the food chain oozed from the adolescent. Enthralled by the sheer strength and confidence that the lanky boy had, you began to follow him everywhere, despite the obvious difference in class and species.

Along the way, you befriended Taehyung and Jimin, a bear and wolf hybrid respectively. They were quite a mischievous pair, but they were kind, and accepted your devotion to their best friend. They saw the deep connection you shared with him, despite Jungkook’s denial. After all, he hadn’t actually pushed you away, and often tolerated your romantic gestures.

Tolerated it enough to accept your request for him to take your virginity, at least.

“I missed you so much, Kookie.” You exclaimed, curling your arms around his neck from behind. You knestled your nose into his neck, taking in the strong scent of whiskey, sandalwood, and mint.

“Don’t call me that, brat.” He chastised, pulling away from your touch. You pout.

“Of course, sorry.” You apologize before digging into your satchel. You sat down, right between Taehyung and Jungkook, and pulled out a bento box. Shyly, you pushed it to Jungkook.

“Here.”

Jungkook peeled open the box as if it was second nature. Food. “You can leave now,” He says with a swish of his tail, his attention piqued.

“But look! We have matching boxes.” You replied, pulling out another homemade box. When Jungkook didn’t say anything, you slumped deeper into your seat, ears wilting against your curls.

His best friends notice.

“It’s lovely. You must’ve put a lot of thought into it.” Jimin said, petting your head. You basked in his touch, legs subconsciously thrumming. Rabbit hybrids adored physical touch, no matter who it was from.

“Aren’t you cute? If you don’t want Jungkook anymore, I’m always available.” Taehyung winked and turned to smirk at Jungkook.

“You better not, brat. You aren’t allowed to fuck any of my friends.” Jungkook snarled, slightly pinching your arm in warning. The panther hybrid was known to be quite territorial, so you didn’t give it much thought.

It couldn’t be jealousy. Jungkook wasn’t interested in you, and he made it terribly clear.

Instead, you grinned with your eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Taehyung. My heart will always belong to him.” As a sincere apology, you offered him a tuna roll tucked between your chopsticks, to which he gladly accepted. With a sneer, he grabbed your wrist, eyes never leaving Jungkook’s, and bit into the roll. Your cheeks turned pink at the close proximity, and you quickly pulled away in embarrassment. Even if you were attracted to Jungkook only, Taehyung was still a young man, a beautiful one no less.

“Delicious.” He purred with a flick of his tongue, and Jimin laughed.

Jungkook, who had watched the entire interaction from under his bangs, was turning red. He clenched his fist from under the table.

If you were so in love with him like you said you were, why were you feeding another man? Were you trying to make him angry—? Why was he getting so worked up anyways!

“Kookie?” A shrill voice exclaimed, breaking Jungkook’s train of thoughts. His head shot up, and within seconds his anger had evaporated.

“Noona.” Your ears perked up at the —was it fondness?— in Jungkook’s velvety voice. He has never called you noona, despite you being a few months older.

Does he even call you by your own name?

You quickly realized that she had used your nickname for him, noticed that he didn’t even flinch at it, compared to how he reacted when you called him Kookie.

“Hey, Jeon. I haven’t seen you since Saturday.” said Karina, a fox hybrid. Female fox hybrids were known to be enchanting, and she was nothing short of the standard. Karina was gorgeous, with her large bust, pin-up curls, and slender figure.

The entire table was staring at her. Some were practically drooling at the sight of her exposed skin. You couldn’t be mad at them, you were ogling her chest too.

“Missed me?” Jungkook replied smoothly, leaning his chin against his palm. He was smirking, almost smiling, something you rarely see happening. Karina crossed her arms and pushed herself onto his lap. He maneuvered to fit her, unintentionally pushing you into Taehyung’s chest.

“You took a toll on me, Jungkook.” she purred into his ear, “I couldn’t walk for days.”

You deflated at her words. He was sleeping with other women? He smiled charmingly, unfazed by her dirty comment.

Sure, he didn’t exactly say you were exclusive, but you weren’t the type to be in an open relationship. You’ve given yourself to him countless times, how did you not know that he wasn’t monogamous?

Karina turned to drink in your small frame. You wouldn’t beat her in a beauty competition, she was sure of that. “Is this your girlfriend? A tiny bunny hybrid. How. . . submissive. She isn’t fainting on you when she’s pleasing you, is she? You know you can be a bit much. . .” She purred in false concern, biting her lip to hide her sleazy grin. Your puffball tail twitched at her backhanded comment.

“She’s nobody, noona.” He said, voice husky and ocean deep.

Taehyung’s eyes widened, and so did Jimin’s.

Your ears drooped back, and you could feel tears forming. Rabbit hybrids were considered to be terribly, if not the most sensitive creatures, and you couldn’t help but prove that stereotype by often crying. You attempt to hold back in hopes of putting a strong front for everyone, despite the fact that all you want to do is run back to your apartment and sob into your pillow. Jungkook despised weak people, and you had an annoyingly teary deposition.

Karina looked at her wristwatch and sighed. “Aw, I have to go now. My biology class is about to start at three. I’ll call you.” With a quick kiss on his cheek, she scampered off.

He didn’t pull away from her touch once.

“You slept with her Saturday night? We were just together on Friday. And Saturday morning. And Sunday night. And the day after that. And yesterday, before your morning class.” You whispered in disbelief, lips quivering. Jungkook glanced at you, and rolled his eyes.

“We aren’t exclusive, (Name). I’ve never once said that I would stop sleeping with other women.” He replied nonchalantly, casting his eyes back to his phone. “You shouldn’t expect things from me. I’m not some prey hybrid that can be satisfied by just one newbie girl.”

His selfish remark completely set you off.

“You know how much our shared moments mean to me, Jungkook. I wanted them to be special, to be shared by only us. You. . . know I have feelings for you. You know how much I—I wanted to please you.” You stated, surprising him. His best friends looked on in shock.

“And I’ve told you multiple times that I don’t see you romantically.” Jungkook retorted harshly. “You shouldn’t have assumed in the first place. Always fuckin’ jumping to conclusions. You’re good at that, huh?”

Did you forget your place?

“So it’s okay that you’re fucking someone else, but I can’t fuck your friends?”

“For heaven’s sake, (Name). You and I just fucked a couple of times. That’s it. That’s all that it’ll ever be. I don’t want you in any permanent sense. I don’t want to be tied down to prey, to a virgin rabbit girl who can’t handle my needs. You cry easily, you’re pathetically clingy, and you have zero self-awareness. Do you know what family I’m from? Do you think anyone in my clan will ever accept you? Please, for the sake of me and you, let your stupid feelings go and leave me the fuck alone.” He laid it hard, slamming his fists on the table as he got up. “I don’t even know why I bothered giving you the time of day. I must’ve been out of my fuckin’ mind.”

The noise caught the attention of virtually everyone in the room. They began to whisper as they stared at you and Jungkook’s brooding figure.

“She’s so obsessed.” Whispered Lalisa, a girl from your astrophysics class.

“A rabbit and a panther? That’s unheard of. She must seriously be delusional.” Said another.

“He’s just being realistic. I mean, he’s heir to Jeon Industries. He can’t just date anyone!”

“Isn’t he going to marry that snow leopard heiress, Akra?”

“Look at her. She’s so desperate!”

“Hasn’t she been chasing after him for years now? It’s time to let go.”

“She’ll never be loved if she continues this!”

She’ll never be loved if she continues this.

You nodded slowly in realization, and everything seemed to finally click.

He would never be yours, no matter how hard you tried.

Jungkook searched for a response, for a hand to come flying towards his face, anything. Maybe even a punch to his gut, and yet, he received nothing. His comment had been excessive, and he knew it. So, why did you choose not to react?

His glare softened into surprise as he soaked in your tear-stained face. Despite the sadness in your eyes, a watery smile adorned your lips, but it carried a weight of finality. It was a silent declaration that you had reached your limit, no longer willing to endure his outbursts and nonsense.

You rose from your seat and gazed up at the ceiling, taking in deep breaths in a desperate bid to stem the flow of tears that cascaded relentlessly down your cheeks.

"Of course, I apologize for intruding," you murmured softly, offering a bow before making your way toward the exit.

“(Name). (Name), wait. Don’t be fucking petty. I said wait!”

You didn’t hear him. It was as if your body had shut down.

“Bun.” Jungkook groaned, feeling almost apologetic. He reached out for you, unsure of what to do, but you shrugged him off.

That was a first.

He sensed the overwhelming sadness emanating from your very presence, as if it permeated the air with its poignant, vulnerable, and jaded essence. It was a scent of resignation, as though you had surrendered to defeat.

Were you. . . giving up on him?

Guilt tore through him as he realized his unnecessary brutality, his eyes flicking to the crowd witnessing the entire exchange. Despite their support, bitterness consumed him.

You found yourself in the nearby art classroom, pressing against the door as you slid down to hide your face in your knees. Your carefully applied makeup was beyond salvaging, a futile attempt to impress him. With each slow breath, you struggled to steady your racing heart. It wasn't just the insults anymore; something deeper had fractured between you, unleashing a torrent of suppressed emotions.

Instead of cleaning yourself up, you choose to cry out all your heartache.

His cruelty cut deeper this time because you had allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him, only to discover that your connection meant nothing to him. Every kiss, every touch, and every glance filled with bittersweet longing now felt like a cruel facade. You had opened yourself up to him completely, body and soul, only to realize that you were just another passing girl in his life, a test to see if he could. It hurt because you had hoped for something real, something lasting, but it seemed he was only interested in those who could match his pace.

Despite your romantic gestures and the raw display of your vulnerability, nothing seemed to sway his resolve. He remained unmoved, unaffected by the depth of your emotions and the naked honesty you laid bare before him.

It was all for nothing.

You could vividly recall your first time with him. He hadn’t said anything sweet, or kind. He didn’t kiss you sweetly, or tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. No, it was all teeth and desire, all blood and bitemarks. He left no room for affection when he took the virginity of the only prey he’s ever bedded.

He had first eaten you out, nails leaving deep indents into your soft thighs as he held you open, like a sacrifice, knees flat against your chest. He ran his tongue repeatedly over your clit and into your weeping hole. You came with a choked sob as you rode out your high on his face, begging for him to fill you. He sank two thick, practiced fingers into your quivering cunt, curling them as he went in and out. You’ve never felt something so deep and penetrating, and his carnal look only spurred you on even further. God, he could really feel it. Your insides were so warm, so cushiony, so soaked. With it’s spongy, elastic ridges that he just knows would clamp right onto his shaft, he could practically feel the pleasure it would give to his cock.

Fuck, he wasn’t even inside yet!

“You’re so fucking pathetic, look at you.” He laughs as you shutter when he presses against your sweet spot. “Just rutting against my fingers like a bitch in heat.” He watches your reaction carefully, hungrily, not wanting to miss anything. He could feel himself growing increasingly hard. It was rare for him to get worked up so easily over simple foreplay, and with a measly virgin bunny of all people.

After pushing in a third and stretching you out, he pulled out, leaving you contracting around thin air. When he pulled out his cock from his sweats, you clenched in both anticipation and dead. It was chillingly large, fit for a predator. More so. No wonder he took his sweet time in prepping you.

“You can back out, pet.” He drawled. Leaning back on his knees, he began stroking himself, eyeing your heaving chest.

Yeah. No condom. He needed to feel this completely. This moment needed to be ingrained in his fucking cranium, to be stored for all his beat-offs.

You weren’t packing as much as the other women he’s fucked, but he found himself being very pleased with your soft, yet disheveled appearance. You looked absolutely wrecked, nails digging into his knees that possessively held you in, and he reveled in the fact that he’ll be the first and only one to see you like this.

“Don’t want to.” You mumbled, trembling under his hungry gaze. “Want to see you the moment you finally fall in love with me.”

Hah. What a fuckin’ brat.

“I won’t stop even if you say so.” He tries.

You reach for his free hand, and push his palm against your mouth, kissing it. “Make sure I can’t say stop then.”

“You’re being very snarky today, huh? You think this pussy can make me stay?”

“I hope so.” You replied innocently.

“Hm? You hope so?” He looks down, sliding his cock between your pussy lips. “Look, my cock’s going to practically fill your womb, baby. You can’t possibly take me.”

“I will, Jungkook. Don’t push me away. I-I can be the cock sleeve you want me to be.”

“Who taught you that?” He snarls, cupping your chin harshly.

“Hoa said I should say that.”

He growled, and his eyes flashed red. You could only gulp in both nerves and unadulterated anticipation.

“You better show me that this little sleeve is worth it, then.”

He loomed over you, hand gripping the bedframe of your childhood bed behind you. It cracked under his grip, but all you could focus on was his hot breath and muscular neck.

“Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.” And with that, he sank into you. He went impossibly deep, filling every crook, cranny, and crevice with one single stroke. He sighed, involuntarily pressing his forehead against yours. In less than a second, he had found the bundle of nerves tucked deep within your body and you could only close your eyes in a silent scream. It hurt so much, but you couldn’t be happier.

He was fucking up your insides, kissing all up on on your cervix with just his tip, and you could feel the blood of your ripped tissue seeping past his cock. He stilled, and raised his torso.

“Good?”

You could only nod deliriously, and with that, he began drilling into you unforgivingly. He curled his large hands around your neck, your head, your shoulders, anywhere he could hold you, as pounded into you. You instinctively placed your hands on his chest, but you didn’t push him off. His pace was monstrous, and you couldn’t help but feel jealous of all the other women he’s been with. The pleasure was absolutely heavenly.

He reached the deepest parts of you, places you didn’t know existed, and he was barely halfway in.

“It barely fits.” He groaned, watching the vulgar entrance of his fat cock stuffing your tight, little cunt.

His hair and forehead was matted with sweat. He looked down, quietly admiring your fucked out face with an almost evil, shit-eating grin. Your eyes were rolled back, and your tongue was slowly making its way past your lips. He let his chain dangle in your face as he focused on making you cum, hips thrusting in and out, thirsty for your essence. You clench around him at the feeling of the cold metal, earning a growl from his throat. You reached behind him to claw uselessly at his shoulders, preening.

He let go of your throat, trading it for pushing your knees to your ears. In this position, he saw everything. He bit into your ankle, and then your toe, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you, slut.” You struggled to meet his eyes. He was practically making out with your legs. With nothing of him to hold, you could only grab your breasts to massage them.

“So fucking dirty. Look at you, pulling me in with this pretty cunt. Fuckin’ brat.” He gently slapped your cheek, coaxing you out of your daze.

He flips you to your side and comes behind you, using one arm to pull your leg up, the other coiling around your neck in a headlock.

God, you were facing your mirror.

“Watch me make you cum, (Name).”

“Want you to cum first.” You mumbled, head sinking deeper into your pillows.

“There’s no fucking way.” He said with a slap to your left breast. He looked down at your connected parts.

“Little girl taking big things.” He mumbled offhandedly, irises expanding. He could feel his balls twitch, begging for release, but he couldn’t give you the satisfaction of orgasming before you. He couldn’t pussy out of watching you come undone first. “My.” Thrust. “Kind of.” Thrust. “Woman.”

His hips slowed to a grinding motion, pelvis right against your pulsating clit, as he cupped your jaw and turned it. “Open.” He commanded, thumb pressed against your bottom lip. The cold metal of his rings pulled you out of your haze and you obliged, watching him waft up a glob of spit and depositing it into your waiting mouth. You swallowed, eyes watery.

“Say thank you, brat.”

“Thank you so so so so much.” You whimpered, reaching for him. He kissed you feverishly, eyes still open as you sucked and nipped at his tongue and lips.

You were whiny and breathless as he resumed his harsh pace, oscillating his hips at the perfect angle.

Your toes curled at the sight. He remained relatively quiet, except for the occasional grunts and dirty talk, too enthralled at the idea of making you cum for the first.

“Fuck, get on your knees. Need to see it from the back.” He looms over you, taking your earlobe into his mouth as he encased you in his arms and resumed his harsh pace.

You ran a hand over his lower stomach, chiseled to the gods, and traced the veins that lead to his cock. He tilted his head back, enjoying your soft touch. When you touched his iliac furrow, he shuddered.

You could feel it— your approaching orgasm. It was coming fast, and your toes curled in anxiety. It felt like it was going to be too much to handle.

“I can’t, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“It’s too much.”

“You can handle it, brat.” He said, fucking you faster. You yelped at the sudden change. “You were right. You were made to take my cock. Such a tiny thing. . . I shouldn’t have even passed your pretty lips.”

“So vulgar.” You mumbled, blinking back your tears of ecstasy.

“Cum, woman.”

“Can’t.”

“You can, petal. You’re taking me so well. There’s nothing you can’t do, hm?” He pressed his lips against your cheek, and then to your ear. He bit into it, suppressing his own sounds of enjoyment. Th sweetness of his gestures seemed to spur you on, just like he wanted. “Gonna cum, Kookie.”

“Fuuuuuck, me too.” He groaned. The bed was practically falling apart as he fucked into you, balls slapping against your pussy.

“Cum inside, please.”

“Gonna give you a fuckin’ kid if I do.”

“Please.”

“Filthy. Fuckin’ filthy. Make me cum then, brat.”

And with that, you came. Your insides gripped his cock painfully tight, so tight that he couldn’t even get another thrust in. You milked his cock for everything he was worth, convulsing around him like a fucking vibrator. You were drooling as you reached up to bite his neck, leaving a not-so subtle mark. He let you claim him for only moment. It was your reward for cumming so perfectly.

“Shit.” He said, watching you arch your back as you laid back down. So fuckin’ pretty. With a few more strokes, he came, painting your insides white with his seed. You could feel the spurts of cum, felt it inflate your stomach at the thickness, and it all but made you feel even more horny. You wanted nothing else but to bear his children. To be bred by that beast of a man. Semen eased out of your hole when he pulled out, but all he did was plug it back in with his fingers.

He coaxed another handful of orgasms from you that night. He didn’t give you a break for the next couple of hours, and in the morning he let you go with a bouquet of insults, marks you couldn’t hide, and a tremble in your walk.

You trudged out the door and into car, ready to receive an earful from him.

You must’ve left a long lasting impression on him, because he continued to call you at the wee hours of the night, asking for a quick fuck. You hastily agreed, hoping these hangouts would turn into dates.

Oh, how you were terribly wrong.

He had been out and about sleeping with beautiful, smart, and experienced predator hybrids.

“Are you okay?” A voice rang through the room, pulling you out of your trance. You looked up, meeting the eyes of none other than Cha Eunwoo, Jungkook’s vice-captain, the student body president, and your astronomy classmate. He was a handsome cheetah hybrid with his toothy grin, sweet demeanor, and adorable sweater vests.

You wish you had fallen for him instead.

“Yeah,” you sniffled, “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look too fine.” He chuckled, and you did too. “I heard about what happened. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” Eunwoo said, softly shutting the door. He sat down next to you, and offered you his handkerchief.

“I thought things would be different.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He whispered, touching your shoulder. “If it makes you feel better, you’re beyond beautiful. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, Eunwoo.”

“It’s no problem, (Name). Let everything out. I’m here to listen.”

“It’s just that . . . I chased after him for so long. I don’t know anything else but chasing.”

“What if I chased after you?” He replied, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “What if I showed you what’s beyond chasing?”

“W-What?”

“I know you’re vulnerable and hurt right now, but I feel like I’ll never have another chance to tell you how I feel. Just know I’m not using this situation to manipulate you into anything.” He breathed in.

“I’ve always liked you, (Name), even back in high school. You were so sweet, and passionate about what you loved, whether it was Jungkook, or astronomy. I admired that from afar, since I knew your heart already belonged to someone. When you helped me with my physics homework, I fell for you even harder.” He confessed with a wistful look. “I wish Jungkook knew how much you meant to him. It wasn’t about his appearance, or his status. It was him. Everything about him, you embraced, even his flaws.”

He looked at you, cyan eyes sparking with hope. “I hope you’ll give me the chance to pursue you. I want to help you forget your pain.”

“Eunwoo. . . I don’t want you to feel like a rebound.”

“Of course you aren’t. I want this, and I don’t expect you to give up your feelings for him instantly.”

You thought about it. This could be your chance to forget, to build a relationship with someone who actually reciprocates your feelings. You were given the chance to feel what true love finally feels like, and you would be dumb to give up this chance.

He was going to give you what you longed for from Jungkook. He was looking at you the way you looked at Jungkook.

“Okay, Eunwoo. You can try, but I can’t promise anything.” Within seconds, Eunwoo had pulled you into a tight embrace. You basked in the scent of cedar wood and cocoa. Despite it being foreign, you felt comfortable in his presence. He picked you off the floor and twirled you around, earning a soft squeak from you.

“Thank you, sweetheart. You won’t regret this.”

Days went by and Jungkook didn’t hear from you at all. He had checked your favorite university cafe, that spot you liked to study at in the library, and even waited at the door of one of your classes. You were nowhere to be seen, and Jungkook was getting severely annoyed. It wasn’t the first time he had said something mean, so why were you hiding now?

He hadn’t had a good fuck in a minute, the last one being you. You, the woman he seemed to despise the most, making him cum the hardest and quickest he’s ever had. Even the sheer thought of you, sprawled over his bed or leaning over his desk, dripping from his cream pie, has him popping a boner in the middle of class.

He couldn’t even cum properly without thinking about you. Balls deep in the captain of the volleyball team, and all he could think of was you.

Things wouldn’t change over a single argument, right? Similar things have happened before, but you always crawled back after a few pretty texts of “I miss your cooking” or “I miss that pretty cunt sitting on my face.”

You would be back soon, he was sure of that. With that thought in mind, he made his way to your next class, hoping to catch you leaving the room. He’d give you a public kiss, even wrap an arm around you. That’d satisfy you enough, right?

Right?

“Is Eunwoo and (Name) dating?”

His ears perked up. What?

“I saw them holding hands. He was holding her satchel and textbooks.”

“I guess she’s over her crush. Good for her.”

“Finally finding her self worth after all these years? It’s not something to be proud of.”

He turned to stare at the female gossipers that loitered around a vending machine. Surely they meant someone else. Not (Name). Not his (Name). She would never leave over some pathetic argument.

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. That was impossible.

When you didn’t come out, he strolled to the cafeteria to meet his friends. As usual, Taehyung and Jimin were bickering. Something, or someone, was missing in the equation, but he didn’t dwell too much on it.

“He doesn’t know, does he?” Jimin whispered to the bear hybrid.

“There’s no way he doesn’t know. The entire law department knows! Even the engineering department! And the bio—“

“Shut up, he’s coming!”

Jungkook sat down, quizzically staring at the pair. They awkwardly smiled at him, and quickly shut their conversation down.

“Wow, this must be the longest (Name)’s been away from you.” Taehyung drawled, side eyeing Jimin.

“She looked really hurt that day. You were out of bounds with that one.” Jimin added, slurping his juice box.

“Don’t you think I know that? She’ll get over it with some sweet little words.”

“Hm.”

“She’s so obsessed with my health. She can’t go a week without whipping me something to try in the name of her ‘proving herself worthy to be my girlfriend’ bullshit.”

“Then why isn’t she coming over? She’s right over there.” Jimin said, pointing his fork at the direction behind him. Jungkook whirled around. He must be playing a prank on him. He could smell your overwhelming scent from a mile away.

Sure enough, there you were, sitting right next to fucking Cha Eunwoo. You were drenched in Eunwoo’s pheromones, it was no wonder why he couldn’t smell you. The can of soda that was in Jungkook’s palm was crushed within seconds.

Eunwoo laughed at one of your jokes and softly petted your hair, easing the morning licks that seem to always pop up after a good night’s rest. He scratched the base of your ears, and your left foot began to endearingly thump with glee.

Jungkook glowered at the sight. Why the fuck was that cheetah hybrid touching what’s his?

“Oi, looks like (Name)’s found her new object of affection.” Taehyung whistled, turning to look at Jungkook. “Good for her. . . and for you, man. She’s finally off your back, just like you wanted.”

“Yeah, I guess she is.” Jimin cocked a brow at the boy. Liquid continued to ooze from the crushed soda can, and Jimin could only shake his head.

“I don’t give a fuck. She was annoying in bed anyways. So loud.” Of course, that was a big fat lie. You were the most enjoyable to be with. (And if anything, he was the most vocal with you.)

“Whatever you say.” Jimin retorts, and that was the end of the conversation.

Jungkook couldn’t help but send a quick glance your way. You looked so happy, as if that argument never happened. Were you ever really in love with him to begin with?

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in on the box that sat between you. You were saying someone as you eased a roll into Eunwoo’s mouth. He bit your finger playfully as he pulled back, making you blush like crazy. He wanted to strangle Eunwoo, but he also wanted to laugh.

You were never in love with him. You just wanted to see what the fuss his dick was about. If you were truly in love with him, you wouldn’t have given up so easily.

But why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like heaven ripped half of his soul away from him?

For fuck’s didn’t need you. He never needed you.

He quickly pulled out his phone, and his finger hovered over Karina’s recent message that he left on delivered.

Are you busy?

Three dots. And then;

Never for you.

Two weeks goes by. You spent your days mostly being whisked away by Eunwoo, who took you to fancy dinners, movies, and museums. Yet, every time you were alone in your thoughts, you thought of him. Jungkook. His touch, his warm scent, his smirk whenever he was around his friends, and his smile, the one that showed every time he talked about his grandmother. You missed all of that.

You missed all of him.

Jungkook and Karina’s newfound monogamous relationship spread through the campus fairly quickly. Of course, you played off your true reactions when Nayeon from your literature class asked you how you felt about it.

“I’m happy for him. He deserves someone good by his side after everything he’s been through.”

(Nayeon had given you a pitiful look after hearing your response. She must’ve thought that you were spiraling.

You were.)

Despite him giving Karina the one position you longed for, you were actually happy for him. You didn’t lie when you said that he deserved it — deserved a pretty and accomplished predator hybrid that could proudly stand by his side as an equal.

It took you awhile to come to terms with it, but you came to realize it wouldn’t work anyways. He was a panther, the heir to the strongest clan in the world. He had beauty, wealth, education. . . he had a lifestyle that couldn’t work with her’s; a middle class prey hybrid who can barely make rent.

Eunwoo didn’t allow you to dwell on it, and soon, your entire schedule was filled with him, classes, and your four best friends, Hoseok, Hoa, Momo, and Yoongi.

This feeling of knowing what laid ahead was comforting. You were going to graduate, date Eunwoo, and live out your days doing what you loved.

“Don’t worry princess, I’m always going to be here for you.” Eunwoo said, pressing his lips against your hair.

You were so used to Jungkook’s sarcastic pet names that being called princess or sweetheart made your head spin. It was welcomed, though. Bunnies needed love and everlasting attention, and Eunwoo was gladly offering it.

Back at your shared apartment, you checked your outfit one last time. A sundress, one that complimented your curves and brightened up your skin. You slipped on your glasses and tote bag, ready to head out. Before you could leave, you stopped to touch the photo of you and Jungkook at the sweet age of seven. There were actually many photos, some with friends, some alone, and they were mostly from ten years ago. One of them was from five years ago. It was a picture of Jungkook sitting on the edge of a secret hilltop that overlooked the city. The sun had been setting, and you took a snap of him admiring the rare sight.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it? I used to come here a lot whenever my grandmother worked at the planetarium.” He had said, pointing at the array of colors that coated the evening sky.

You nodded absentmindedly, but you weren’t looking at the view. Long eyelashes, a few pimples and scars, and chapped lips. Cherub skin, a little fat in his cheeks that later faded as he aged, and sparkly gray eyes. You were looking at him, and all that he was.

This was who you loved. God, how could you not love someone so pure?

He grew muscle and lost his baby fat, but he never lost those large grey-amber eyes, ones that seemed to hold entire galaxies in them.

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.” You murmured.

You blinked, and turned away from the picture frame. You didn’t want to immerse yourself in a fantasy that you could never relive.

Once you left your apartment, it only took twenty minutes to reach the university. You bounced down the halls in pure excitement. Eunwoo was taking you to an exhibit that featured space stones!

In your excitement, you had accidentally bumped into someone.

“Watch where you’re going!”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.” You bowed respectfully, and turned to keep going. A hand curled around your wrist and stopped you from going. You looked up, only to see Karina’s cat-like eyes. She sneered.

“Well, if it isn’t Jungkook’s old clingy bunny experiment. (Name), wasn’t it?”

“Look, I really have to go.” You casted your eyes down. “Again, I’m sorry for all the trouble—”

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, prey.” Karina screamed, pushing you against a bulletin board. You gulped, but your face remained brave.

“What do you want from me?”

“He’s probably told you this, but leave him alone. Stay far, far away from him. He’s mine now, and he told me to tell you that. You were his plaything, and I’m his girlfriend. As it should be.”

She was antagonizing you, that much you could tell.

“I wasn’t planning to go near him again. You’re right, he’s yours and I can respect that.”

“Panther hybrids aren’t meant to be with puny prey hybrids, (Name), and I’m glad you finally put a stop to your delusions.”

Your blood ran hot at her comment. With a sprout of strength you never thought you had, you twisted away from her grasp and pushed her into the wall that you were pressed against seconds before.

“You already have him, so why are you being so rude? I’ve never done anything to you—!”

“What the hell is going on, (Name)?” You turned, meeting Jungkook’s red eyes. You instantly submitted under his harsh gaze, knees failing at the sudden wave of nausea. He was going to make you go into heat if he didn’t stop. He pushed you away from Karina, making you trip and collapse onto the floor with a thud. You gasped as the pain rushed through your spine. You attempted to sit up, but the pain was too much.

Jimin and Taehyung quickly came to your aid. You winced at the contact, pulling away from their touch. There were too many predators surrounding you, and with Jungkook’s pheromones, it made you feel even more unsafe. They attempted to sooth you with words of encouragement as they lifted you to your feet.

Karina was sobbing into Jungkook’s chest as she pointed at you.

“She attacked me when I told her that I loved you!” Jungkook turned to reprimand you, but Jimin stood in front of you, baring his fangs. He was beyond tired of watching you get insulted for nothing.

“You attacked her over something so pathetic? Jesus, (Name). I knew you were insane, but I didn’t think you were violent.”

“You know (Name) wouldn’t attack her over that! She obviously provoked her.” Taehyung said, coming to your defense.

“She’s so fucking obsessed with me, I wouldn’t be surprised if she did this out of jealousy.” He spat. Your temper returned tenfold, and you angrily limped toward him, pushing past Jimin.

“Don’t you start fake crying, (Name). I’m not falling for your shit, anymore.” Jungkook said sarcastically. “Just drop the shitty innocent act.”

You slap him. Across the face.

“Fuck. You.” You heaved. Your throat fucking burned. You weren’t used to raising your voice. “I’ve been in love with you for more than a decade, Jungkook. Is this some kind of sick joke? I’ve taken care of you, looked after you, loved you even when you didn’t want to have anything to do with me. It’s fine that you don’t reciprocate my feelings, I respect that, but for you to undermine my love for you as some obsession is fucking low. I’ve left you alone, and you continue to insult me, and for what? I’m sorry that I was annoying. I’m sorry that I was clingy. I’m sorry that I can never live up to your stupid standards. I’m sorry that sex with me wasn’t up to your standards, so you had to find pleasure in other experienced women. I’m so sorry for wasting your time, and I’m sorry for loving a predator like you, even when you told me to stop. I’m happy for you! You deserve to find love with someone who’s your equal, so why can’t you be happy for me, just this once? Why can’t you see that I’m still trying for you, even when you hate me?”

You were full blown sobbing now, and Jungkook couldn’t help but look at you in pure agony. He could see and feel your pain, like he’s never had before. It was as if something clicked inside his soul, and he had come to the realization that you weren’t just a fuck to him. No, you were more than that, he could physically feel it. As if he was possessed, he pushed Karina off of him and slowly reached for you. It was as if his instincts were telling him to comfort his mate. You backed away and shook your head. “Don’t touch me. I’ll dirty you. I’m just a brat, right? A filthy slut who doesn’t deserve your love. Who can never amount to anything to you and your family.” You covered your face and turned away. You couldn’t handle anymore embarrassment.

“No, (Name). I didn’t think. . .” Jungkook tried. Why weren’t his words forming right?

“(Name)? Are you okay?” asked Eunwoo from across the hall. He hastily rushed towards you. You were supposed to meet him at the campus parking lot, but you weren’t there and it was about fifteen minutes before the exhibit.

You cried out, reaching for him. He pulled you into his arms protectively. You snuggled into his hold, using his scent as a way to calm yourself. Jungkook watched, his soul crushed to oblivion.

“Please take me home.” You mumbled in tears. “Everything hurts.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Give me your bag.” Eunwoo shrugged your bag off and onto his shoulder. He lifted you off your feet and gave you a one look over before making his way towards the exit. Jungkook stood there, drowning in pure regret. There was no way he could fix this.

“I’ll take you to the clinic first, okay?” Eunwoo murmured as he tucked you into the passenger seat.

“Mhm.” You mumbled, already exhausted.

“Sh, sleep. I’ll wake you when we’re there.”

“Thank-you, Eunwoo.”

“Of course, princess.”

“I think. . . I can finally look at you now, Woo.” You said as you dozed off. “In the way you want me to.” Eunwoo paused before smiling, opening his car door.

“I’m glad, (Name).” His eyes flashed red. “I’m so, so glad.”

That night, you nestled into bed after applying some ointment onto your bruise. It would be hard to walk for a couple of days, but your boyfriend would be there to support you every step of the way.

Your phone buzzed with several messages, but you ignored it, thinking it was your group chat. You groaned when it continued to insistently vibrate. After a few moments, you peeled it off your bedside table.

It was Jungkook, of all people.

(Name)?

Can we talk?

I want to fix things.

I miss you. A lot.

Please.

I promisr I’lk changw.

I won’t pusd yoi away amymorw.

I can’t di this. Pleasr.

Mert mw on our hill, plwese?

(Name).

I thonk I luvb you.

Talj to me. Pleasw.

Jungkook took another swig of his vodka as he laid sprawled on the grass, on top of a very special hill. You weren’t replying, and as the minutes passed by, he was drowning himself with more alcohol. He wanted to beg on his knees for your forgiveness. He’d give everything to finally treat you right. To stop fighting the attraction.

He tried to text you again, fingers messily typing against the screen. He could barely make out what he was typing before he pressed send.

I’d leavw everythinf behind four yoy, (Name).

The message didn’t go through, and his heart dropped.

In the end, your tears dried out.

You had blocked him.

#jungkook #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts jungkook #bts #bts angst #kim taehyung #park jimin #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #min yoongi #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts recs

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p1nkcanoe · 11 months

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p1nk’s cowboy ghoul hc’s 🤠

yeehaw, let’s get it

wild west is probably a more fitting description, but mmmmm cowboys... ANYWAYS

!! mentions of blood, violence, injury, dishonorable and illegal activity, weapons...

swiss

every time I think of cowboy swiss I can’t get raven’s post out of my head. this man is adorned with gold and covered in tattoos--most of which are messy and self-done--and a sight to behold. he's all broad shoulders and a tiny waist, and sports the thickest, neatest mustache for miles. what exactly he does to make his money is a mystery. nobody really knows where he's from, or what he's about, but he tends to stick around town for days at a time before disappearing without a word, only to return days--maybe weeks--later and refusing to speak a word of his absence. he's known as a ghost to the locals, drifting in and out and working silently and without a trace of evidence for his story, and he likes it that way. swiss works for lots of people and also nobody at all. he's got connections all over the continent and is willing to carry out any task in return for a good check and a word with a wealthier man. he's got money buried underground in burlap sacks and old dynamite crates hidden in caves, evidence of his loyalty and unwavering reliability, and even though his hands are covered in blood he's carried onward by the mountains of honor on his shoulders.

aether

big boy’s the sheriff of a small town hidden around the bend of a river and guarded by hills and mountains. he’s a highly respected man, had gained his title and work through his high honor and kind heart, and he’s dedicated to keeping his people safe. he wears his big, golden star on his chest with great pride, but the sheriff's not as clean as he seems. he's got connections far outside of his station and dabbles in the very things that he locks "dirty criminals" up for. he's got a distribution agreement with cirrus and her moonshine monopoly, has sunshine as an acquaintance, keeps swiss sheltered, clean, and working for mutual benefit, and has dewdrop to complete the more dishonorable work that he can't complete himself. aether has a prideful reputation to uphold but he still sleeps with one eye open at night. nobody here is a saint.

dewdrop

dew’s aether’s right hand. he does all the dirty work- the things that aeth can’t do himself without risking his reputation. and he’s good at what he does. he’s silent, stealthy, and isn’t afraid to take an extra risk to finish what needs to be done. this kind of work comes with a price, though. dew’s done some things that he’ll never speak of, not even with aether, but as long as he sits down with him at the end of a long day and joins him for a beer they don't press too far into it. dew's quiet. he doesn't speak much but he has a temper that's unusually short and tends to get him into stupid barfights that he knows he won't walk away the winner from. sure, he's dispatched countless men, but he's still not the biggest guy in the bar... sometimes he feels like he needs a little pain for the things he's done; the things he's seen. an eye for an eye, as they say. it's the closest he'll get to experience peace of mind.

cumulus

cumulus is the daughter of a wealthy barkeep. her family has owned the tavern in town for generations and you can usually find her there, playing the piano and keeping drunken men entertained with her charm, pretty teeth, and big curly blonde hair. but don’t get it wrong—lus holds her own and she keeps both the regulars and the stragglers in line with nothing but her own two fists—and you better not get her daddy involved if you know what’s good for you. she may be a good girl in the books but she's got her own contracts behind the scenes. she's got a regular who comes in once every week or so and stocks their shelves with 'shine. as far as anyone is concerned, it's on request and with good word from the sheriff, but in reality she's managed to catch the eye of the best moonshiner in the state. sure, she completes the business end of the contract and makes sure the cabinets are full, but their personal affairs after hours are solely a business of their own.

sunshine

sunshine is a deadly motherfucker. she may not look like much but there's a saying that goes around that claims that she's never missed a shot. she runs around with a gang up in the hills and occasionally comes into town to visit the tavern and spend some coin in the shops (it's rumored that she's got a little something for the piano girl, but nobody's ever had the balls to ask around). she operates on her own time and by her own rules; no questions asked and no compromises. what she says, goes. and that's a threat. it's true that sometimes the sheriff's a little iffy about her presence, but she's assured him a million times that as long as he lets her slide by that she'll leave him alone. she's not usually one to make deals or partnerships outside her gang, but she is a woman of her promise and aeth has never put forth the idea of testing it. occasionally she'll roll in when swiss is in town and together they're a dangerous duo. that's what really scares the shit out of him. together they could take over the town in a heartbeat. but they wont. they're outlaws, not monsters.

mountain

mountain is a free spirit. he lives nowhere in particular, migrates from place to place with his camp on his back. he has a special bond with nature, enamored with the beauty of the earth, and he would much rather risk getting lost in the wilderness than to settle in even a tiny town. but every blue moon he'll wander in and say hello to familiar faces, sell some animal pelts and lost items for a few dollars, and spend a cozy night in the tavern--more than taken care of by morning. he's an interesting sight as well, choosing to wear handmade leather shoes over any nice pair of boots and sporting a hat made from a raccoon and possum pelt. he has excellent handiwork and if you ask nicely he might just bring you a little handmade article next time he visits (whenever that may be). "where you off to this time?" and "when'll you be back?" aeth will ask as he's loading up his horse again for the road, and mount always answers the exact same: "somewhere, and sometime. i'll tell you about it when I get back." aether always laughs, gives his horse a pat, and shakes his strong right hand. "just don't die out there," he says. "no promises."

cirrus

"what'd you bring me this time, pretty lady?" aether asks, lifting up the cloth concealing two dozen liquor jugs, maybe more. a thick stack of cash is handed over with his other hand. "only the best." cirrus is a moonshiner and she’s got her hand on the best product for a thousand miles in every direction. she built her business from the ground up, a careful process of trial and error, and eventually distilled her final product with her own careful hands. her shine burns like fire and goes down like candy on your tongue. it's the most potent product for miles and puts hair on a grown man's chest--and she's made herself quite the penny off of it. cirrus is a powerful woman. she doesn't put up with bullshit and handles the majority of her conflicts herself. she's survived a thousand bullets, they say, and walked through a million acres of fire with bare feet. she's invincible. the only evidence that supports her mortality is the loss of her right eye. she shields it under a wide brimmed hat embellished with rubies and feathers from birds found a thousand miles away. but it's never hidden. it's a medal, a warning, a token of her strength. at every point they thought they'd killed her-she always came right back.

rain

rain, rain rain… where do I even start? he’s a tall, lean boy with a pretty face who tends to get himself into all kinds of sticky situations. he’s quick witted, extremely unserious, but smart as hell. he’s also a master on horseback and quite the horse whisperer. he's usually up to his neck in mud or working in the stables, boarding and managing the horses belonging to visitors, but he especially loves it when a stranger comes in, one that stays for a passing night and leaves early in the morning. he'll strike up a conversation, perhaps use his charm to get some extra coins for cheap liquor from the general store... but the boy is also a petty thief. he can't help himself, it's a habit he can't shake. the saddle bags are the easiest, but pockets and coat jackets are just so much more fun. once he slipped his hand into the coat pocket of the town's own passing ghost, stealing an important looking silver pocket watch and a dollar coin when he'd cornered him in the hay shed with the promise of a kiss. he hadn't gotten away with that one so easy... swiss--as he now knew him--returned only hours later with the brim of his hat set low and a cigarette lit between his lips and rain cracked under the pressure of a steel knife to his throat. and for some reason after that swiss took a liking to the foolish stablehand. perhaps it was his charm or the promise of a kiss he never received, but he always made the effort to bring rain little valuables from his time away. they were the only gifts he ever kept from a stranger--if you could even call him a stranger. he just made sure to never question where they came from.

phantom and aurora

who...? who are these two stragglers who just rode into town? they don't have much and they seem to be looking to stick around... I guess we'll just have to wait and see what they're about.

p1nk’s cowboy ghoul headcanons are brought to you by the entirety of lord huron’s long lost album as well as too many hours spent on red dead redemption...

(tagging @crimsonclergy and @royalchachi bc they got cowboy worms like me fr)

I’ll probably end up doing more w this, going into depth about outfits n shi. but talk to me about your thoughts, I wanna hear em.

#I’ve been obsessed w red dead recently let it slide #cowboy ghouls #p1nk dab #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #ghost headcanons

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itzsana-kiddingmenow · 2 months

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𝙇𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙈𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜!

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 488

𝙖/𝙣: EEE someone requested but i lost it :c also shes so PRETTY RAHHH

𝙩/𝙬: raspberries, lia is not here as i only reflect the group's current status/also i feel too sad to include her when i know shes not actually there! please dont hate me for this, and when she returns from her hiatus she will be included in future fics!

𝒍𝒆𝒆: yeji

𝙡𝙚𝙧: itzy

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeongins-diary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkedloveandlostpromises @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @r00ni1

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s🖤

Yeji yawned quietly, the vibes in the room sleepy. The lights were dimmed as the members watched a movie together, snacks in their hands.

The movie was interesting, but being 2 AM, the girls’ leader was definitely tired and sleepy.

She hoped none of them would notice if she fell asleep there. So she did.

Yeji woke up to three loud, shouting girls. She immediately rushed to figure out what was going on, just to suddenly get caught around the waist and dragged to the floor.

“H-Hey! What are you doing?” She yelled, suddenly squealing as a finger stuck into her armpit.

“You’re tickling me!” She whined, trying to turn and see which member was currently torturing her.

“You’re so crazy! Let go of me!” Yeji demanded when her limbs were stretched further.

“We’re crazy? Imagine falling asleep during our movie night!” Ryujin suddenly reasoned from above her.

“Yeah, unnie! You promised us that you would be awake for it!” Chaeryeong added, Yuna nodding in agreement.

“This isn’t fair! What are you even gonna do to me?!” Yeji gasped, realizing that she was completely vulnerable and immobile.

“Tickle attack!” All three members shouted, suddenly descending their fingers onto her body, tickling any spot that was ticklish.

Yeji immediately screamed out in laughter, doubling over in large fits of ticklishness as she squirmed away from their hold.

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHO!”

“Wow, she might even be louder than Yuna!” Ryujin commented, and the maknae turned a bright red color in response.

“IHIHI CAHAHAHAHAN’T TAHAKE IHIT!” Yeji squealed, kicking out with a dangerous amount of force as she lost all self control to the tickling fingers on her torso.

Her face was tinged a cute pink as she laughed happily, all worries in her mind gone to the fuzzy feeling of her hysterical state.

“STOHOP STAAHAHAHAHAP!”

All the members smiled joyfully at their leader throwing her head back and squeaking through her bouts of laughter.

Ryujin noticed that Yeji’s oversized shirt had ridden up a little, revealing her pale, flat stomach that was just asking to be tortured.

She precautiously stuck one finger into the vulnerable belly button, and the absolute howl of laughter that Yeji let out had Ryujin doubling over herself as she leaned down to blow a long raspberry onto the sensitive area.

“RYUJINAHAHAHAHAHA—!!” Yeji screamed, her whole torso shaking with laughter that just couldn’t stop bubbling out of her throat.

“Okay, okay. I’m gonna do it again!” Ryu blew another one, and grinned when the leader’s laughter turned silent, only small squeaks filling the room as she gasped for breath.

Finally, all the girls let up and Yuna ran to get Yeji a glass of water, while the others rubbed at the spots a little to ease the ghost tickles.

“This is what you get for sleeping during movie night!”

It happened many more times, so the scene repeated itself until their lovely leader finally learned her lesson.

im sorry that its short...

#kpop tickle #midzywannabeitzy #itzy #itzy tickle #lee yeji #ler itzy

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ejzah · 9 months

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A/N: Taking a little break from my super angsty, dark fic and guess what we have today? You got it, more flirting!

***

The Agent and the Fireman, Part 11

By unspoken agreement, Kensi was paired with Deeks as his partner/handler. Although they’d worked with non-federal liaisons in the past, she’d never been responsible for one before. At least Deeks seemed perfectly at ease with the situation.

For the sake of time and efficiency, they’d decided Deeks would tag along for any interviews Kensi conducted, but would stay back if the situation turned more dangerous. Deeks had rolled his eyes at that stipulation, pointing to his battered forehead in an apparent reference to the dangers he faced on a daily basis, but didn’t verbally protest.

As she’d noticed at the fire sites, there was an easy confidence about Deeks that spoke volumes. He let her take the lead, but wasn’t afraid to speak up if he had a relevant question or piece of information. She liked that. Liked that he was sure enough in himself and his skills that he wasn’t intimidated by working with federal agents or trying to out show them.

“I bet this isn’t quite what you expected when your captain offered you up to us,” Kensi guessed as they left their third interview of the day, taking the long walk back to road where they’d been able to park her SUV.

Jason McHenry appeared to have gone to ground so they were hoping family and old acquaintances might be able to shed some light. So far, they’d learned little aside from confirmation that McHenry liked to keep to himself and was mostly self-taught.

“I mean, every day can’t be filled with shootouts and fire engulfed buildings, can it?” Deeks said with a sardonic grin. “It’s ok. Since I’m on restricted duty, I’d probably be stuck in admin. At least this way, I have the chance to accomplish something.”

“Oh, well I’m glad that it’s not all terrible for you.”

“The company is pretty good.” Deeks winked, the twinkle his eyes making Kensi blush. If he stared at her like that much longer, she might just spontaneously combust. She cleared her throat and made a vague sweeping gesture with her arm.

“So, now that you’ve seen what we do, you think you might make the jump, become a federal agent?” Kensi asked Deeks with a confident grin. “We’re pretty amazing, right?”

“You are,” Deeks agreed. “Especially one agent in particular.” He paused a beat. “I’m speaking of Agent Hanna of course.” He dodged her elbow, grinning, and shrugged. “No, I have no desire to leave the LAFD. I love what I do now. And, I’d say I’m pretty damn good at it most of the time.”

“Modest,” Kensi commented, but didn’t disagree.

“I don’t have any reason to leave,” he reiterated.

She expected as much, but still was curious if he saw any elements of NCIS that appealed to him. Outside of present company.

“I wouldn’t mind working with you every day, but I would miss the suspenders.”

Deeks’ eyes widened, his head tilting as he considered her. His mouth curved with that teasing, half-grin Kensi had grown to love in an amazingly short amount of time.

“So the, uh, gear really does it for you, huh?”

“Maybe.” She brushed a stray curl off his forehead, eyeing him playfully. “Among other things.”

He nodded like he was tucking that revelation away for later. The thought made her stomach tighten pleasantly in anticipation.

“Oh? Do I get to hear about these “other things”?” he inquired.

Kensi looked him over, taking her time to study the fit of his button down shirt and the jeans he’d swapped out for his usual slacks or overalls. She adjusted the collar of his shirt and took another glance at his remarkably tight jeans. “Mm, I think that’ll have to wait for our makeup date,” she decided.

“Which can’t get here fast enough.” He sighed, slipping on a pair shades as they reached the SUV again.

Kensi’s phone beeped in her pocket and she pulled it out, scanning a text from Callen.

“Callen and Sam recovered several items from McHenry’s apartment,” she told Deeks. “We’re meeting them at the boat shed again.”

***

Deeks tilted his head, watching Sam Hanna methodically lay out a collection of mechanical and electrical pieces on the table.

“We found a hidden compartment in Jason McHenry’s apartment with this, a thumb drive, and a whole lot of cash in it,” Sam explained. “He either didn’t have time to clear everything out of didn’t come back at all.”

“Those look like—”

“The components of an incendiary device,” Deeks finished softly for Kensi, picking up a small electrical board. He builds his own.”

“You sound impressed,” Kensi said, observing his movements closely.

“It’s a sophisticated device.” He slid several components together, talking as he worked. “This lets McHenry control when the fire starts, he can set it for a specific time, and with the accelerants he uses, most of the components of the device are destroyed in the fire.” With a little flourish, he held up a finished example.

“That was hot,” Kensi said in a hushed voice.

Deeks glanced at her in amusement, catching Sam shaking his head.

“Glad you approve.”

“That doesn’t tell us where McHenry is hiding out,” Callen said. Deeks nodded in agreement, carefully replacing each piece in its former designated spot.

“True. But it does answer some of the questions we had about the fire,” he pointed out.

“You said there was a thumb drive too,” Kensi reminded Sam. “Was there anything on it?”

“Eric and Nell are looking at it now. All the files are encrypted, so it’s going to take some time for them to access the data,” Callen spoke up.

“So far, all they have is a communication between Jason McHenry and an unknown party.” Sam inclined his head. “The wording’s too vague to determine the topic.”

“Alright, it’s going to take a while for Eric and Nell to finish the decryption,” Callen said. “You’re welcome to stay if you want Deeks, but there’ll probably be a lot of down time and you’ve had a couple rough days.”

“I have the sense I’m being dismissed,” Deeks said wryly.

“Only because we care,” Sam drawled, drawing a snort from Deeks.

“Ok, I’ll go. Text me when you find out anything new though.”

“Sure thing.” Callen glanced at Kensi with a smirk. “Kens, you want to drive him home?”

“Of course,” Kensi said quickly, like he might change his mind.

“Be back in an…hour and half,” Callen added. “Is that enough time for you two?”

“Not really,” she answered, blithely resting a hand on Deeks’ back. “But we’ll make do.”

***

A/N: No, I know nothing about incendiary devices. And yes, I am warping investigation procedures to suit my needs.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #fluff #firefighter deeks #Deeks is hot #the agent and the fireman #part 11 #fireman au #ejzah fanfiction

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lucyandthepen · 2 years

Text

a lesson on style - iv . [ ljn | njm ]

pt. i, pt. ii, pt. iii, pt. iv., pt. v, pt. vi

you’ve always been content with being associated with one word and one word only: average. average in looks, academics and social skills, you’re just looking to graduate high school without causing disasters you’ll have to live with until you kick the bucket. when you’re paired with school king lee jeno for the semester-long physics thesis, you can’t help but think the entire situation has pretty much set itself up for failure. that is, until you strike a deal with your partner. alternatively: an au tale involving lessons in popularity, eleven consecutive B minuses, a secretly sensitive, chess-loving jock, and an amateur sex tape.

pairing: jeno x fem!reader, jaemin x fem!reader verse: high school au { jocks!nomin ft. a super cute whiny ap physics genius renjun } rating: M for sexual themes ( there are allusions to sex but no explicit smut! ) chapter warnings: word count: 7.6k

author’s note: i went quiet for a hot minute because a ton of nice things ate up all my weekends and a ton of terrible things ate up all my weekdays but im BACK with gremlin energy stronger than ever !!!!

tagging @justalildumpling

Renjun, being the quintessential all-around nerd that he is, has told you a lot about what they talk about in his advanced placement physics classes. A huge part of their class’ previous term had to do with theoretical physics; it had been basically months of him trying to enthusiastically explain something wildly abstract to you, and you laying your head on his fairly tall pile of books checked out from the library, humming in agreement at opportune times, like when he’d catch his breath, to make it sound like you weren’t falling asleep on him. He’d told you about the uncertainty principle, the multiverse theories, the difference between loop quantum gravity and string theory — both of which, he’d said, had their merits, but he was ultimately a stringy universe kind of guy. A lot of the stuff he’d said hadn’t made much sense, and they mostly seemed impossible, which is why you’d stopped trying to pay attention by the end of the first month.

With all of that information in mind, however, you have to say that this is the most absurd thing you’ve heard thus far.

“That’s physically impossible,” you say without even thinking. Jeno, who has been grinning for the last two minutes leading up to his proposition, suddenly shifts mood, looking a little taken aback.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, this,” you gesture to yourself as a whole, trying to ignore the inappropriately timed wave of tingles that arises when his eyes follow your hand. “Is not a shapeless slab of stone you’re going to be able to sculpt into something magical. I’m… I’m as good as it’s going to get. Which is fine, by the way.”

“Not really sure about the analogy,” he muses. “But I’ll go with it. I’m not going to try to re-mold you, or anything. We can just spruce it up. Kind of like putting Calvin Klein boxer briefs on that ripped naked guy by Michelangelo.”

“Wh — okay, I’m not even going to bother asking about the underwear brand choice.” You wave the analogy away. “You know that… getting a good, stardom-esque reputation like yours isn’t easy in high school, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s not impossible,” Vaguely, you note that he doesn’t reject the idea that he’s a high school superstar. “Remember Park Jisung?”

“The guy that stands behind you in games?”

“The running back, yes,” he confirms. “Two years ago, that kid was a total loner. He ate lunch under that big tree next to the teacher’s parking lot. Now he’s running for captain next year, and everyone in his level is friends with him. And he’s wearing contact lenses instead of glasses now. See?”

“I’m not sure how that last one fits in, but I’m also going to let it go for now. I don’t have two years,” you remind him. “We graduate this term. Well — hopefully.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “You don’t need two years. I’m just saying. You’re always with that friend of yours, but you could stand to widen your circle, and there are a lot of our classmates I know you’d get along with. You could get into some cool new things, meet new people, share new interests. Plus, we’d get to hang out a lot more instead of just, you know, doing,” he points disdainfully at the list of topics. “That.”

You stare down at the paper, but your eyes just stick to it blankly without reading, your mind trying to process everything instead. You don’t really care about climbing up the proverbial social ladder; average is pretty fine with you, and you’re not even sure what a better reputation is going to achieve at this point. Still, the most appealing part of this conversation is getting to hang out with Jeno — the one thing you’ve craved since puberty, probably. Honestly, it seems like a win-win; it’s not like you weren’t planning on doing the project, anyway.

For some reason, it just feels too good to be true, though; you think there might be a snag, but you also can’t figure out what it might possibly be. You look up at Jeno for any sign of him faltering, but he’s just staring back at you a little expectantly, and it suddenly dawns on you that he’s worried you’ll say no.

Which is, frankly, laughable.

“Yeah, okay,” you say slowly, setting aside any hesitation you have. He lights up, that grin making a comeback on his face. “Yeah — why not?”

“Why not,” he echoes, looking exceptionally pleased. “For sure. Okay, well — awesome. So, I was thinking we could probably get some more headway with the project this week. You know, get it over with, rip the bandaid off quick and early, that sort of thing.”

“I’m free any time,” you say almost immediately, not only because it’s true but because even if it weren’t, you’d happily cancel all of your schedules for this. Luckily for you, your eagerness comes off as a simple fact, and Jeno clearly takes it as such.

“Cool. I have practice after school, though, so can we do it over the weekend?” You nod, and he takes back the piece of paper, flipping it over while uncapping his pen with his teeth. “Here’s my number; text me on Saturday morning or whenever and just remind me about it. If I don’t reply in ten minutes, call me. I oversleep sometimes, or sometimes I let my battery die out because I forget to charge my phone. In that case, you can call my sister to wake me up. We don’t have a landline at home because, well… obviously.”

“Uh,” you’re not sure what to do with this sudden onslaught of information about his daily life, and it’s almost hilariously surreal that he’s writing down his sister’s phone number under his own. “That — okay.”

“Also, is it okay with your parents if I park in your driveway?”

“You know where I live?” You don’t even bother masking the tone of surprise.

“Well, yeah.” He looks amusedly perplexed. “You’re Jaemin’s neighbor. You’ve played Winner’s Really Really almost everyday since it came out. I can hear it from his bathroom.”

Right. Your lapse in memory makes you want to punch something — preferably yourself. “Oh. yeah. I should probably keep it down.”

“Nah. It’s a good song. Pretty sure that’s why Jaemin won’t stop asking me to play it in the car now.”

“Anyway,” you try to shift the topic back on track. “Usually, on weekends, my parents take the cars so the driveway’s empty, but their schedule’s kind of messy. They have, like, alpaca enthusiast functions sometimes, and sometimes they just stay home, so I can’t really promise a parking spot right now.”

“It’s cool. I can just park in front of Jaemin’s house, if that’s the case.”

“Is that okay with his family when you’re not even in their house?”

“Are you kidding? His mom invites me to their Seollal celebration like every year. I join their family for jesa like I don’t have my own family to do it with. She even calls me adeul. I could strangle Jaemin in his sleep, and she’d come in and ask me if I needed more heavy duty rope. It’s totally fine.”

You feel like a part of what he’s saying is a huge exaggeration, but it’s almost endearing that he and Jaemin have this kind of friendship. Briefly, your mind shifts to Renjun, and you wonder if you have the same kind of confidence in your relationship — then you remember you’re furious at him and shake the idea off before you start thinking about strangling him with some heavy duty rope.

“I’ll let you know if they leave anyway.” You take the paper back, index finger running idly over the dents in the paper that his writing his number had made. “Just in case.”

“Cool, just —“ He stops for a second as the teacher walks in, looking as disgruntled as ever. Jeno lowers his voice to a whisper. “Just text me.”

You nod, and he drops the conversation, turning his attention to the board where your teacher is trying to graph out a parabola. You try to focus on it too, opening your notebook to copy it down quickly alongside the equation he’s written to its right, except you have no clue where that figure came from and why he’s drawing it.

It also doesn’t help that you’re trying really hard not to stare at Jeno, who’s obviously not paying attention and is, inexplicably, smiling to himself, which is just giving you the worst (or best) kind of butterflies.

You don’t know why you’d expected things to change immediately, but whether or not they were supposed to, they don’t. The assumption was that because you’d be hanging out with Jeno, you wouldn’t need to worry about where to sit during lunch time, but he’s hardly in school for the last two days of the week; the crowd he’s with is still at their regular spot, and you understand that they’re probably friendly enough to accommodate you, but it seems like a stupid idea to approach them and say that you want to sit there because Jeno is supposed to be there.

It gets worse when you see Renjun at your usual table, eating his donkatsu, and you make eye contact. His expression is unreadable, and you suddenly feel the overwhelming need to either cry or throw miso soup at his face, so you deduce that you’re still not ready to approach him. It doesn’t help that his backpack and a stack of three, unbelievably thick books is on the chair where you frequently sit next to him, like he’s doing all he can to shun you. In the end, you take a cue from Park Jisung of two years ago and make your way to the big tree near the teacher’s parking lot, settling down under its shade.

It’s actually not as bad as it had sounded when Jeno had talked about it; the cell service is surprisingly great, so you get to wedge your phone between your legs while you’re Indian sitting and watch more Facebook videos featuring samoyeds and rescued kittens on mute. You spend maybe five minutes in between to check Jeno’s profile, but you’re unsurprised to find that the last time he’d been active was almost three days ago; the most recent post was a picture from last month that he’d been tagged in by who you assumed was his sister.

Halfway through the hour, a shadow grows over you, blocking out the sun. You look up, expecting that it’s Renjun, seeking you out after more than thirty-six hours of stony silence, but it isn’t; it’s Jaemin, looking a little sweaty and breathless. From your position, you notice that he’s in muddied cleats instead of the traditional casual sneakers that almost everyone wears, and there’s a little ring of darkness around the neckline of his navy blue shirt.

“Hey,” he sounds as breathless as he looks. “Can I sit here for a sec?”

You nod wordlessly, still in the middle of chewing your donkatsu, and he busies himself with tossing his backpack down against the tree before following suit, collapsing next to you with a huff. He even smells a little sweaty, like he’s been out in the sun for long; even if it isn’t exactly repellent, you inch away slightly. Thankfully, he doesn’t really notice, with him so busy trying to find the right place on his scalp where his hairline cuts evenly. When he speaks up again, his voice is exceptionally casual.

“You know this tree is infested with wooly caterpillars, right?”

“What?” Your mouth is half-full, though, so it just comes out as a garbled hnwaf?, and you jerk away quickly, precious bento box in hand. When you look back at Jaemin, though, he’s chuckling, back still pressed against the tree trunk.

“Kidding. Obviously.”

“Not funny.” You shift back in place, swallowing your food so that he can more clearly understand how unamusing that was.

“Sorry.” There’s a light twinkle in his eyes that says he isn’t though. “I didn’t have a better conversation opener. Anyway — why are you out here? This is literally the second least desirable place to have lunch.”

“What’s the first?”

“The boys’ bathroom on the third floor.”

You snort softly, putting the lid back on your bento box to avoid spillage just in case he decided to trigger panic again. “I’m just… enjoying the breeze and sunshine. Nature is such a thing for me. I also hear looking at greenery speeds up your metabolism.”

“Bullshit,” he laughs, and you’re amusedly taken aback by how comfortably he’s speaking around you. Then again, he doesn’t seem the type to talk any differently around anyone else. “Nice straight-faced lie, though. I would have believed you if I knew that definitely wasn’t true. I do hear it relaxes you, though — the looking at greenery thing.”

You laugh softly, leaning back (a little gingerly) against the tree, your bento box balanced on your knee; you can feel Jaemin’s gaze burning into the side of your face, clearly expecting an answer to his question, but the ideas of elaborating on petty fights with your only consistent friend or on petty desires involving his best friend both feel weird, so you just avoid the topic altogether, throwing your own question at him instead in an attempt to curveball the conversation into your favor.

“Do you know why Jeno isn’t in school today?”

Jaemin doesn’t answer immediately; you can tell he’s noticed you weaseling away from such a basic question, but, thankfully, he doesn’t push it after a brief moment of silence, simply reaching into his bag to extract a sandwich and an energy drink bottle. He takes his time popping open the bottle but doesn’t drink, twirling the cap between his fingers.

“He just does that sometimes, Jeno.” It’s clear in the tone of his voice that he’s choosing his words carefully. "He’s got… other stuff to do outside of school, so he suddenly ghosts. I’m sure he’ll be back on Monday, though. He usually shows up after the weekend, in my experience.”

“Other stuff?”

“It’s not really something I can explain or — you know. I don’t know how to, anyway. I wouldn’t know where to begin. Plus, it’s technically none of my business —“

“No — no, I get it. You don’t have to tell me.” It feels uncomfortable, anyway, suddenly prying into Jeno’s business, no matter how much a substantial part of your consciousness wanted to.

“But you want to know,” he takes a sip of his energy drink. “Because you’re nosy.”

“I’m not!” You want to cringe at how defensive your voice sounds, but it would just give you away more. “It’s just that, you know, he wasn’t around for class yesterday, and I haven’t seen him around today, so, I just…”

“I’m kidding, ________________. I know you’re not nosy. You’re worried about him because you like him.”

Horror creeps into your expression; you watch, frozen, as Jaemin takes a large bite out of his sandwich. You can see the spam between the slices slipping down at the bottom, threatening to fall into the plastic bag. You lock eyes with him; he stares at you, but you can’t tell if he’s smiling because his cheeks are puffed out by all of that bread and filling he’s munching so diligently on. Denial is the first thing that pops into your head; it seems so easy just to say no, I don’t!, but you can’t bring yourself to. In the end, you just sigh in defeat.

“Does he know?”

“Jeno? I don’t know. Maybe, but he also has this talent for not paying attention to stuff that seems obvious, so there’s the possibility that he doesn’t. We don’t really have a very in-depth feelings are valid relationship, so it’s not like we talk about it.”

“Is it that obvious, though?”

“Is Dongbangshinki’s Here I Am the best song in history?”

“Debatable,” you snort half-heartedly. “But I get what you’re trying to say.”

“I know you think Winner’s Really Really is the best song, but,” he pauses, swallowing down his food and taking another enormous bite. “You should really expand your horizons more. For both our sakes.”

“Really Really is a great song. Besides, Jeno says you’ve been playing it in his car these days.”

“It is an earworm kind of jam,” he admits. “But it doesn’t beat out the classics by a mile.”

“Here I Am was released in 2010!” You argue. “That was like ten years ago!”

“No, it was released in 2012.” He says as-a-matter-of-factly. “And Really Really should be thankful for all Here I Am sunbaenim has done for it.”

You don’t know why the sound of your laugh is so foreign until you realize you don’t really remember having laughed genuinely over the last week; between panicking over the strangely massive amount of attention Jeno had bestowed upon you and Renjun’s childish and, therefore, frustrating behavior, you haven’t found much humor in anything, and humor hasn’t really found you until now. It feels nice to just carry out a conversation without worrying it’s going to turn into a disaster or an argument, and you kind of like how Jaemin laughs even louder and a lot more obnoxiously than you do; some freshmen crossing the field in front of you actually turn when he starts guffawing.

The silence that you both lapse into is a little less strange; you get to resume finishing off your donkatsu, and Jaemin enthusiastically inhales the rest of his sandwich. He’s flicking the bread crumbs off his fingers into the grass when he starts talking again.

“So you and Renjun still aren’t talking?”

“Wh — now who’s being nosy?”

“Technically, it’s not hard to deduce,” he crumples the plastic bag and smushes it into his backpack again. “You’re not in the cafeteria with him like you usually are. Plus, he punctured three holes into his quiz a couple of days back because of how hard he was digging his pen into his paper. I had to give him a new sheet.”

“Yeah, well,” you blow out air in a sharp, annoyed huff. “I hope he failed.”

“He didn’t, but for the sake of my curiosity, why would you hope that?”

“Because he’s just — he’s being a pain in the ass. He has been, for a while. Also, he has this really bad problem of talking too much even though it’s obvious you want him to shut up. And he thinks he’s hilarious when he’s just being mean.”

“To Jeno, you mean?”

“You heard about that?” You raise your eyebrows. “I thought you guys weren’t into talking about feelings or whatever.”

“We aren’t. Jeno literally said you know that Renjun guy? What’s his problem?, and I just naturally put the pieces together.” He shrugs.

“Yeah, well, I wonder that sometimes too.” You pluck out blades of grass aggressively, feeling your face heat up with residual fury from the thought of Renjun.

“Haven’t you guys been friends for years?”

“Yeah? So? He can’t be a jerk to me after all these years?” Your snippy tone cuts through your trance of anger, and you look back at Jaemin, who’s surprisingly not at all taken aback. He’s just looking at the dirty blades of grass in your fist with some mild form of interest. “Sorry. That was rude.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I know what you really fought about. Although,” he adds as an afterthought. “If it’s about Jeno, I really don’t think he’s worth losing a friendship over. Don’t get me wrong; I mean, Jeno’s great. He’s my best friend.”

“Your mom loves him,” you interject helpfully, and he hums in agreement.

“But it’s not like you have only one position for a male friend in your life. You don’t have to trade Renjun for Jeno, or anything like that. Maybe you guys can just talk it out.”

Jaemin’s fingers are idly playing with the grass as well; instead of pulling them out, though, he’s just brushing his fingers through them like they’re the fur on his sleeping cat. It strikes you that Jaemin and Jeno are weirdly nothing alike; Jeno’s substantial physique totally eclipses Jaemin’s fairly leaner one, and they even talk differently, not to mention the fact that the latter is clearly lightyears ahead of the former academically. Still, they’re close — kind of like you and Renjun were. Are? Should be?

“Yeah — I guess,” you let go of the grass, watching them fall, crumpled, back into the dirt. “I guess you’re right.”

“Besides, if anyone were to replace Renjun as your best friend and confidant, it would obviously be me.” The light humor creeps back into his voice, and you smile slightly.

“Obviously.” It’s weird to think of Jaemin as coming close to the level of a best friend, but it’s also starting to hit you that he’s talking more like a friend than a casual neighborhood acquaintance, a particular relationship development that you didn’t think would be possible at the start of this school year — or, well, two weeks ago, actually.

You can see streams of people walking out of the cafeteria back into the main building; lunch time is nearly over, and this fact is confirmed by Jaemin suddenly tilting his head back along with his energy drink, downing its contents in swift, audible gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing rhythmically. He lets out a refreshed exhale once he’s done, popping the cap back on.

“I have to get the class’s quizzes back from the faculty before I go in. Want to walk back together?”

“No, that’s okay,” you watch him shrug on his backpack, reaching out to fix the zipper that leaves it half-opened. He mumbles a thanks. “I’m going to sit here and finish watching this samoyed ASMR video until the bell rings.”

“Cool,” he stands, brushing off the grass and dirt from his jeans. “Well, see you around, _______________.”

You give him a wave, and he starts trekking across the field; you almost turn back to your video, which has been on pause since he’d arrived, but he calls out to you, walking backwards now instead of stopping like a normal person.

“By the way, you should know that ownership of my jacket comes with great responsibilities. More information to follow,” he calls out.

“Oh, shit,” you mumble to yourself; you’d forgotten about it, even if it’s been sitting on the chair by the front door for the majority of the week. You raise your voice to respond to him. “I’ll drop by later and give it back!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves away your words. “Whenever you remember.”

“I’ll do it after school,” you’re practically shouting now because he refuses to stay still. He gives you a thumbs up that looks minuscule from the distance between the two of you.

“I’ll hold you to it!” He gives one last wave, turning back around and jogging towards the main building.

You can see the little sweat patterns that are almost dried up on the back of his shirt, even if he’s so far away now; weirdly enough, they remind you of tiny angel wings.

This is the first Saturday in your life on which you wake up really early; you’re actually up to see the sunrise, which is something you haven’t seen since a Thursday during your second grade when you’d woken up, startled, to a stray cat making a mess of the trash cans in front of your house. You’re already oddly feverish and more than a little jittery from the moment you roll out of bed, which leads to you taking an hour-long shower that you use to create multiple scenarios involving Jeno’s visit. None of them end particularly well, especially the one where he drives up to your house only to tell you that he’s found a better partner before driving away. It’s at that point — as well as the point where you notice that the tips of your fingers have significantly pruned up — that you decide you’ve wasted enough time and water.

Still, even with the hour above you’ve killed, it seems way too early on a weekend to call someone, much less expect them. Now is actually one of the rarer times in your house that it’s fairly quiet, with only a few footsteps in adjacent rooms breaking the silence, so you take advantage of the opportunity to prepare. In this case, preparation really means taking out the piece of paper that had Jeno’s number, adding Jeno’s number, adding Jeno’s sister’s number, taking note of the project Jeno wants to do very briefly before deciding you have no tools to prepare for it, and then contemplating whether or not you should call Jeno or his sister now.

Your final decision is to head down for breakfast and attempt to stop obsessing too much over the Jeno situation, and you’re surprised to see Jisoo at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him that looks only a fraction of a percentage touched. His eyes are glued to his phone, and he’s scrolling madly away. He doesn’t even notice you as you open the refrigerator and let out a small noise of defeat as you learn he’s taken the last of the milk.

“Hey,” you finally speak up, setting down your glass of grape juice way too hard on the table so he snaps out of it; he fumbles with his phone, almost dropping it into his bowl of cereal. “Who are you talking to this early in the morning?”

“None of your business,” he mumbles, locking his screen.

“Okay. Well, it’s also none of my business, but your cereal milk is curdling.”

He looks down at the bowl, like he’s shocked to see that it’s somehow materialized in front of him, but he doesn’t respond, opting to shovel soggy cereal into his mouth to avoid having to speak. You both consume your food in silence for the most part, until he’s only got the last dregs of milk and some cereal he didn’t manage to stuff into his face swimming at the bottom of the bowl.

“You can’t tell Sooyeon noona,” he starts suddenly, and you put down your half-empty glass of juice.

“That’s a promise I cannot make without knowing what you’re hiding.”

“It’s not bad. I swear. It’s just… if you tell her, she might do something about it, and I will literally never come out of my room again if she does.”

You wrap your fingers around the glass, condensation sticking to your skin. “Fine. I won’t tell her. For now.”

“I’ve been… I’ve been talking to Kim Minjeong.”

Your mouth forms a tiny ‘o’, finally cottoning on to why he doesn’t want you blabbing to your sister; Kim Minjeong is in the same year as your sister, and she comes over sometimes after cheerleading practice. You like her, mostly because she’s undeniably nice and also because sometimes she brings egg custard tarts for the family, but you do know both of your brothers tend to avoid going down when your sister invites any of her friends over. You’d always naturally assumed that neither of them enjoyed the awkwardness that comes along with hanging around older girls you don’t know but have no choice to play host to (which is a specific and odd type of awkwardness, but a real one just the same), but that seems to be true for only one of your brothers now.

“Since when?”

“For a couple of months now. She — I don’t know,” Jisoo’s hands squeeze around his phone. “She’s so nice. She doesn’t treat me like a kid. Plus, I found out she watches Battlestar Galactica. The original and the remake.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a keeper. So what’s the big deal?”

“I mean, I like her, but I think she just… you know, she’s just nice to me because she has to be — because she’s friends with Sooyeon noona? And I don’t know if I should tell her I like her. And if I do, how should I tell her? And what am I going to do if she says she doesn’t like me back? And what do I do if Sooyeon noona finds out?”

He lifts his eyes, looking at you expectantly, but you’ve been operating under the assumption that these questions are all rhetorical, and you have no response to offer. All you can do is shrug helplessly, which is extremely lame, and Jisoo looks even more devastated now.

“Well, how would you go about it?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” you snort. “My signature move is stare and stutter. You having a conversation about Battlestar Galactica with a hot cheerleader is a lot, lot farther than I’ve gone.”

“Well, how did Jaemin hyung ask you out?”

“He — hang on — what?”

“How did. Jaemin hyung. Ask you out?” He chops up his sentence like you’re a baby, and you smack his forearm. He doesn’t even flinch.

“He didn’t ask me out because we’re not together, as I repeatedly told you guys earlier this week.”

“Yeah, but some girls from my level saw the two of you near the teacher’s parking lot making out. Which reminds me — I think you have a couple of new… enemies from my year level. You should probably know that.”

“We weren’t making out! We were just talking. I’m —“ You almost want to say you’re loyal to Lee Jeno, but even in your head, it sounds a little pathetic. “I’m not into him. At all. Please don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Fine,” he sighs in frustration, as if it’s your fault that you’re single and therefore useless as a source of advice. “Well, what do you think I should do? If you were her — would you be creeped out by me asking you out?”

“Yeah. Because you’re my brother.”

“I mean if I weren’t.”

“Look, I can’t predict what she’s going to do; even if I were her closest friend, I wouldn’t know what the future was. Why can’t you just ask her out? If you’ve been thinking about it this much, then you’re obviously ready to try, right?”

“What if she says no? I’m going to have to live with Sooyeon noona knowing about it.”

“You’re going to have to live with her regardless, because she’s your sister,” you remind him. “And sooner or later, she’s going to find out. Personally, I think you should tell her. Sooyeon, I mean. She might be able to help you.”

“She might blab and ruin me. Sooyeon noona gossips so much.”

“Hey, watch it. I accept you looking down on me, but I will not have you have any negative opinions on our precious sister.”

“But it’s true,” he groans. You smack his arm again. This time, a tiny ow escapes him.

“I know it is, but it’s her one and only flaw, anyway, and she’d never gossip if she knew it would affect you negatively. Talk. To. Her.”

“Fine,” he picks up his spoon, scraping off the soggy cereal that’s adhered to the bottom of the bowl. You flinch at the loud noise. “Fine, I will. But if this goes horribly, I’m blaming you.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” you say, raising your glass to your lips and finishing the last of your juice while your brother washes his bowl and retreats back into his room.

You can hear the rest of your family slowly waking up, and your mom is the next one to come down, announcing that she’s on her way to go to some quilt-making class that she’s been itching to go to for months. She asks you what you’re going to do today, and you talk about your project in as vague a way as possible so that she doesn’t continuously pry; luckily, she’s so excited about making a quilt today that she doesn’t even try to push it, simply promising to buy more milk on her way home from the class before heading out.

It still seems too early to expect Jeno, so you end up going up the stairs way too slowly, consequently annoying your youngest brother, who’s waiting to go down; he blows past you once you’ve reached the top of the stairs, muttering something about how girls always take their time. The end result of you trying to kill more time is you booting up the Sims on your laptop, making a new household and cheating your way into free real estate and a ton of money so you can move them into the fancier neighborhood. In the end, though, the yipping of the new dogs they’ve adopted gets to you, and you pause the game, finally picking up your phone.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t even ring; the operator voice just tells you the number is unreachable at this time. It takes another five minutes for you to muster up the courage to call Jeno’s sister, who, to your relief, picks up after the third ring with a sleepy ‘hello?’

“Um… I’m sorry to wake you,” you don’t know why you’re whispering, but it just seems appropriate. “I’m… well, Jeno told me to call you if his phone isn’t ringing, so I just… sorry.”

“Oh,” there’s a pregnant pause that makes you wonder if she’s hung up the phone for a short, scary moment. “Oh, right; you’re probably ______________, right?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Jeno told me you might call. He’s probably got his phone turned off. I’ll go wake him up and tell him to contact you.”

“Thank you,” you’re still whispering when you hang up, and all the extra air escapes you in the form of a relieved sigh once the call drops. You return to your sims with a significantly lighter heart thereafter, and you even get them into cool new jobs before your youngest brother sticks his head into your room without knocking.

“______________ noona, Renjun hyung’s downstairs.”

You press the pause button so hard it actually sounds like the key has cracked, swiveling around in your study chair.

“Renjun? Huang Renjun?”

“Who else?” He sounds annoyed, but that’s how he usually sounds anyway, so you just brush it off. You think about telling your brother to tell him to go away, but your brother is already gone before you can finish deciding if you really want to do this, leaving your door ajar. With a groan, you slip off your chair, only momentarily distracted by your text message alert going off.

[ from; Lee Jeno ] hry sorry. 4got to charge my phone. Battery died. omw to u.

You don’t take the luxury of cooing over how cute his text sounds in your head, running down the stairs instead to see Renjun standing by the front door, twiddling his thumbs. He hears you charging down, looking up as you do so, and you can tell he’s swallowing hard because his Adam’s apple bobs dangerously in his throat. It’d be kind of funny if you weren’t equally as nervous.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice sounding a little choked up, like he hasn’t spoken for days — which, you know, is physically impossible for him.

“Uh. Hey. Why are you — what… are you doing here?” So maybe it comes out a little more accusatory than you’d initially intended, and you see that Renjun recoils a little. You feel bad about it. Kind of.

“I… um… we haven’t spoken for a few days.”

“I know that.”

“Right. Sorry. I was just hoping to talk to you.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m… I… you know.”

“Here to make fun of me? Like you’re so used to doing?” This time, his cringing brings about the slightest wave of pleasure in you, followed immediately by a larger, much more all-consuming attack of guilt.

“No, no. I came here to, you know. Apologize.”

“Oh.” You nod slowly. “I see.”

You wait for him to say something, but he’s just watching you, like he’s waiting for some kind of bigger reaction, except there’s absolutely nothing to react to, so you just give him a look that urges him to keep going.

“Right. Sorry. I mean — I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said back then.” He sighs, and it’s clear he thinks he’s digging his dignity’s grave deeper and deeper as he talks. “I have my reasons for not really liking Jeno. I don’t really know how much that’s going to change in the span of a few days. But I do know that I embarrassed you in front of him, and I don’t want to do that to you, ever. I’m sorry for that.”

“It was kind of embarrassing,” you agree.

“And, more importantly, I… I want to support you. I mean, I really don’t think you guys should get together, if I’m being honest,” he notices you bristling and hastens to add to his sentiments. “But I also know it’s not really about what I think. If you like him, and you’re happy around him, then… I’ll be okay with it. As long as he makes you happy.”

“We’re not together, Renjun,” you reply quietly. “I just like him. One-way crush — that’s it. It’s really, really not that big of a deal. I don’t want to fight just because I have a crush. If you liked someone, just liked them, I wouldn’t stop you from having feelings.”

“I know. I know you wouldn’t because that’s what good friends should be like. I should’ve been a better friend to you.” He takes in a shaky breath. “_______________, I’m really, really sorry. I hate fighting with you like this. Eating donkatsu alone without anyone to complain to about the moistness of the breading was torture.”

You choke out a laugh, and it’s only then that you realize that you’ve been slowly tearing up. Even Renjun looks a little misty-eyed, which is weird for the both of you, considering that you only ever cry watching Ma Dongseok movies.

“It really was kind of soggy.” You agree, and he laughs loudly.

“So this is good, right? I mean… we’re good?”

“We’re good.” You and Renjun rarely hug, since there’s never any cause for it, but it seems appropriate to do so now; luckily, he must be on the same train of thought, because he envelops you in a tighter-than-usual hug. You spend a couple of seconds just standing in your living room, trying not to sniffle too loudly into each other’s ears.

“Anyway,” he starts up again when he pulls away, dabbing at his eyes with his sleeve. “I have to go home and help my mom with her garage sale today, but I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Definitely.”

“Cool. Oh — one more thing. Do you… think you can tell Jeno I’m sorry, too?”

“No,” you laugh. “No way. You tell him you’re sorry yourself.”

“Aw, come on,” Renjun whines, emphasizing his reluctance to do so by stamping his foot childishly. “There’s no context in which I’d be able to get to talk to him alone, anyway.”

“He’s coming over here in a few minutes to start on the project with me,” you inform him, and he actually looks a little crestfallen at this new information. “You can tell him you’re sorry then.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, sitting himself down on the chair near the front door only to sit back up, looking up at you in mild disbelief.

“You still haven’t given Jaemin’s jacket back?”

“Oh, shit. Yeah. Well, I keep forgetting!” You defend yourself.

“He lives right next to you! You could even ask your brothers to do it if you promised to pay them 10,000 won!”

“Yeah, but giving it back through someone else when I could just do it myself just seems so rude, you know?”

“And keeping it even though you have no reason to is polite in your head?”

“Shu— oh, oh, he’s here,” you cut yourself off as you hear the crunch of tires on your driveway, signaling that Jeno had parked in the spot your mom had left behind when she’d gone for her quilting class. Renjun flies off the chair and presses his back against the door before you can fling it open. “Hey!”

“Can you relax for one second? He’s getting out of his car. If you open the door now, you’ll look crazy.”

“Oh,” you pause, considering his words. “Good catch.”

A few moments later, the doorbell rings, and you shoo Renjun away from the door to open it. Jeno’s form is literally blocking the view of the outside, and you briefly wonder if this is more of a testament of his physique or proof that your family is just made up of small people. Or both.

“Hey, sorry,” he pulls off his baseball cap, which leaves his hair adorably flat and messy. “I overslept a little. Also, just in case, I brought my g — oh.”

Jeno stops when his eyes land on Renjun, who’s now miraculously standing behind you, looking like he wants to disappear. The look on Jeno’s face is stony, but he tears his gaze back to you anyway.

“Is this a bad time? I can come back. I’m sure Jaemin’s awake by now.”

“No, it’s cool. Renjun just… dropped by.” You step back so that Renjun is in the forefront, and he shoots you a withering glare. “He actually has something to say to you.”

“Does he?” Jeno doesn’t even sound interested, but he focuses on Renjun again anyway. “What’s that?”

“Look, dude,” you’ve never heard Renjun call anyone dude before, and it makes you snort, a noise which the both of them ignore. “I’m sorry about the other day. It was totally uncool of me, and I shouldn’t have said what I did. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“Oh,” Jeno clearly wasn’t expecting an apology, but he looks pleased anyway. “Okay. Well, apology accepted.”

“Thanks,” even though it’s what he’d wanted, Renjun doesn’t sound too enthusiastic about receiving forgiveness. “And I mean it. I give you both my blessing. You can… pursue this relationship without any more active, explicit judgment from me. Good feelings for everyone, and all that.”

“Okay,” you cut in, not missing the fact that he’d gone out of his way to add active and explicit to allow himself the sneaky sliver of opportunity to judge Jeno in silence. The latter is looking at him, befuddled again. “That’s all you wanted to say, isn’t it, Renjun?”

“I’m not even sure if all of it was what I really wanted to say,” he sighs defeatedly at you. "But yes; I’m good.”

“Cool,” you push him towards the door; Jeno steps aside to let him through, and Renjun walks out, looking a little dazed, like his body can’t handle the idea that he’d just apologized to Jeno and is in the process of going into total shock. “Bye, Renjun. See you on Monday.”

You hear him mumble something as he trudges away, and Jeno follows his movements in silence until he disappears down the sidewalk.

“Was that weird, or—?”

“Yeah, it was kind of weird,” you admit, ushering him in. “But he means well. Anyway, putting that aside, should we get started on the actual proposal?”

“Did he say he gave us his blessing?” Jeno suddenly starts echoing Renjun’s words like they’re only starting to sink in now.

“Oh. Yeah — I wouldn’t really think too much of it,” you wave it away as Jeno settles down on your couch. “Smart people tend to say crazy things. So, I was thinking about the topic you picked, and I think the physics lab has a digital multimeter. We can check if it has that option for measuring sound frequency.”

“Uh huh,” he still looks like he’s not latching onto the topic change, whacking his baseball hat onto his thigh idly. “Sounds good.”

“You know… I’m going to go and get my laptop first,” you announce. Jeno makes a sound of assent, and you run upstairs into your room again. Your Sims game is still going on, and your laptop’s fan is working on overdrive. You press quit a good ten times, not bothering to save the game and open up Facebook, typing out an angry message to Renjun.

You: WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU

Na Jaemin: ??????

You: oops sorry wrong send !

Na Jaemin: lol good morning to u too

You leave Jaemin on read, focusing on your mission to chastise Renjun and opening the right chat.

You: WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Huang Renjun: IDK WHAT HAPPENED THAT WAS SO WEIRD

Huang Renjun: I SAID BLESSING JDGJSSJSF

You: I KNOW I WAS THERE

Huang Renjun: I KNOW IM SORRYRIJSPJG

You: DOSIJGSJG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You almost make it out of your room before having to double back, realizing you’re leaving behind the laptop you came up to get, and run back down, finding Jeno in the same position with the same perplexed look on his face. He, thankfully, doesn’t notice how red your face is when you sit down.

“Okay. Sorry. Should we start?”

“What? Oh, yeah of course,” he shakes his head as through trying to break himself from a trance.

“So I was saying, we could probably borrow one of those multimeters from the lab, but we’d need a written request for that. Also, I think we need to figure out—”

“Sorry, I just really need to ask,” Jeno interrupts you, and your voice dies in your throat. “That thing Huang Renjun said —”

“I’m really sorry.” You sigh, realizing the topic is unavoidable. “It was weird. I’d say he’s not usually like that, but…”

Jeno nods, staring at the inside of his cap, which is now settled on his lap. His long fingers are playing with the backstrap idly, and you wonder if what you’ve said is enough to make him drop the conversation. Unfortunately, you can tell he’s still on it when he looks up at you seriously, leading you to a sharp, uncomfortable inhale.

“You… didn’t tell him we were dating, did you?”

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