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#almost cried mid exam
mysicklove · 7 months
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THE EXAM WAS SO FUCKING HARD IM GOING TO DIE DHEHAIAJXVAGASGSGS
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toshidou · 1 year
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oddly specific british hcs . . .
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characters // the 141 (simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, kyle "gaz" garrick, john price)
an // don't ask me what this is, because i really don't have an answer for you. my brain just spat this out at me mid walk and for some reason i decided to post it here. i am so sorry.
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Simon "Ghost" Riley
He's scared shitless of Year 7s, despite knowing full well that he was one of those little bastards when he was a kid. Not much puts the fear of god into him, yet something about a group of little shitheads who think they own the world has him crossing to the other side of the street at the sight of them.
Got suspended from school one time for stealing one of the dildo's from the RE classroom and supergluing to the seat of the kid who tried to bully him.
Got good grades at school. Not because he put in the effort, but because he stole all the exam answers from his teachers desk and spent the night before the exam memorising it all. "Work smarter not harder" was his motto.
Once got lost in a Primark. He was only looking for some cheap sleep wear, and ending up somewhere stuck between rows of Disney clothes and screaming children on leashes.
Has an unhealthy obsession with Monster energy drinks, he once drank so many in a row he went temporarily blind in his left eye. Still drinks them to this day.
John "Soap" Mactavish
He once had a full on mental breakdown in ALDI because the cashier was scanning things too quickly and he couldn't keep up.
Has started several fights in pubs because someone insulted Iron-Bru, both Simon and Price have had to drag him out of nearly all of them kicking and screaming garbled Scottish insults.
Used to dip his sherbet dib dab in dirt as a kid.
Once got in trouble in maths class for spelling "80085" on his calculator and laughing so hard he pissed himself.
The only time he laughed that hard again was when the Queen kicked the bucket. Price looked nothing short of disturbed.
If one more person comes up to him and yells "DISGUSTANG" in an exaggerated and shit Scottish accent, he's going to commit serial arson.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Went to private school, and gets bullied for it by the entire 141 as soon as they find out. They rib him even harder after they find out he was head boy.
Got invited to a night out in London by one of his rich acquaintances from school, which ended up being The Box. That night single-handedly gave him more PTSD than any mission he's ever been on.
Has personal beef with Percy Pig after he almost choked to death on one, and to this day he will never live it down that Ghost had to give him the Heimlich.
Has an unhealthy addiction to the Spice Girls. Sometimes he forgets he lives on a military base and still sings "Wannabe" at full volume in the showers. He's had to swear Soap to secrecy on numerous occasions.
His favourite Spice Girl is Scary Spice.
Captain John Price
His biggest guilty pleasure is listening to Take That. He'd first heard them first thanks to his mother being worryingly obsessed, and started mockingly singing along to their songs on brief phone calls from his barracks after he'd first joined. Little did he know that soon he too would unironically love their music. And yes, he cried when Robbie left the band. It's a secret he's taking to the grave.
Hates Waitrose with a burning passion, he once threw a fit over the price of a packet of peanuts and scared the middle-aged woman and her baby two aisles down.
Saw Gaz choking on a Percy Pig, and then proceeded to buy him every available Percy Pig related merchandise for Christmas.
Loves vinegar on his chips from the chippy, and when he found out the smell makes Soap gag, suddenly he loves his chips drowning in it.
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joelswritingmistress · 5 months
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Last Halloween: Chapter 31
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Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
The passing of time began to heal the wounds that had been bestowed on you and Joel. Despite some initial reluctance, you agreed to talk to a therapist about being kidnapped by Vic and all that took place before and after. Joel had talked you into it, and agreed to go, himself.
By the summer, you felt almost back to normal; and those wounds turned into scars. Never forgotten, but no longer the focal point of your pain.
You passed the last of your practicals and exams. The final course you finished that summer and by the fall you had your nursing degree as planned.
It was October 1st when you handed your three closest girlfriends your last lump sum of money for the monthly rent on the house you had been renting together. It was bittersweet. The four of you had had so much fun through your mid twenties in that house, and waking up to share laughs and have coffee were the little moments you would miss so dearly.
"You're only moving six minutes down the road," Jessie reminded you, when the two of you cried together, complete with seemingly contradictory smiles.
"I know." You dried your eyes. "But.. I just.. I'm so happy but this is-"
"The end of Act One in your story and the beginning of Act Two." Jessie pulled you in for a long hug. "And this is where the friendships grow stronger, and the real depth comes in."
You sighed. Her words made you cry a little more before you finally got it together and bid a temporary farewell to your friend. The four of you already had a plan to go out the following Friday night and that was solace enough for the time being.
The very bright light at the end of the tunnel was Joel. Once you parted from Jessie, you sped over to Joel's street with your car full of all of your belongings. Your heart was letting you know how full it was from the constant thudding in your chest. It picked up the closer you got and felt like exploding when you pulled down the private driveway.
As promised, Joel sat on his front porch waiting for your arrival. One year later and he still made you swoon. The site of him still made butterflies flutter around in your midsection.
When you parked the car and popped open the driver's side door, you smiled wide as he approached with a key dangling between his fingers. You almost couldn't believe this was really happening.
"Welcome home." Joel smiled just as wide. The two of you couldn't take your eyes off one another and you pulled him in by the collar of his flannel shirt to leave a long, meaningful kiss on his lips.
"I love you," you breathed into his mouth.
"I love you, too." He brushed his nose against yours and you kissed again before accepting the key from him.
"I can't believe I live here now."
Joel kept you close. "Maybe one day I'll get you that cabin in the woods, but I thought this would do for now."
You shook your head and nodded toward the house behind him. "This is home."
He pecked your lips once more. "Come on." He pulled you by the hand and the two of you began to unload the car.
You were on cloud nine. Each box you brought inside made the move feel more permanent. When you unpacked the box that had your Bluetooth speaker in it, you plopped it on the little end table by one of the couches and put on one of your many playlists.
"Bob Dylan," Joel nodded in approval as the first song began to play. "Nice."
You smiled at him as he hauled another box in over shoulder. The two of you went through it together, finding a permanent home for your things. While you didn't want to impose on Joel's space, he was overly accommodating.
"It's our space now," Joel reminded you three or four times.
You stuck your toothbrush in the slot next to his. Joel cleared out more than half of the closet space for clothes. You laid out your boots, shoes and sandals.
When all of the bins and boxes were finally empty, you made your way back downstairs, welcomed by the infamous pipes of Sheryl Crow's Strong Enough, you finally reached for your car keys, and the single, gold key you had placed beside it; the one Joel had given to you.
As you picked it up between your fingers, Joel crept in behind you and kissed down your neck. You moaned lightly with a smile and closed your eyes.
"Mmm.." you let out a deep exhale through your nose. "So, this is my life now, huh?" You sunk back against him.
"As long as you want it to be," Joel whispered, as his hand snaked up the bottom of your shirt.
You turned around and Joel met you halfway in a smoldering kiss, one that you had been wanting to give him all afternoon. For the rest of the night you didn't take your hands off of him. Moving in together had turned you into a feral, needy woman.
When the two of you finally laid in bed, breathing heavy but otherwise quiet, you stated aloud. "I live here."
Joel began to chuckle, guiding you to lay partially on his chest. "You live here."
You sighed contently again, listening to his heart beating rapidly in his chest with your arm slunk across his abdomen. "Imagine if I had never offered you that free coffee that night."
"What's meant to be will always be." Joel played with your hair. "But I'm glad you did." He added, "You're a brave woman. I owe you my life. You gave it back to me."
"All I want from you is to share it with me."
Joel kissed the top of your head and the two of you laid contently for a long while, talking about life, the future, and what was to come. You both intentionally left out the past. It was the easiest way to fall asleep peacefully.
When the next morning rolled around, you felt refreshed. It was like leaving a great dream only to awaken to a better one - one with Joel beside you. Permanently. Every day. For as long as you both could stand to be around one another. In your mind, that meant forever.
You smiled at him sleeping there and swung your legs off the edge of the bed before tiptoeing out of the room so you wouldn't wake him. As much as you wanted to lay there all morning with Joel, you also wanted to surprise him.
Despite it being your first formal night as a resident at the Miller house, you knew your way around the kitchen. And so you went about whipping up pancakes, setting the coffee pot and gathering the syrup, butter and chocolate chips you happened to find in one of the cabinets.
You hesitated before retrieving a long rectangular box wrapped in candy corn wrapping paper from your jacket pocket by the front door and left it by Joel's unmade plate.
Before you could go see if he was awake, your eyes lifted to meet his as he strolled into the kitchen. Joel pulled a long-sleeved tshirt down over boxers and you couldn't help but smile at his head of messy hair.
A smile crept on his face. "It smells amazing down here."
"Thought I'd surprise you on our first official morning living together." You smiled back and retrieved a glass dish filled with pancakes and placed them in the center of the table.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." The two of you sat down at the table and Joel raised his coffee mug to you. "To many more cups of coffee together first thing in the morning."
You giggled and reached for your cup, tapping it gently against his. "To many, many, many more."
Joel took a sip, smacking his lips together with an appreciative sigh and then eyed the little box by his silverware. He smirked and reached for it. "What's this?"
You felt your stomach knot up and folded your hands on top of the table. "You'll uh.. you'll have to open it."
Joel's eyes squinted in playful suspicion but he still smirked as he tore open the corner of the tiny package. "I didn't even know they made candy corn wrapping paper," he commented, glancing up at you with a wider grin.
You flashed him a closed-mouth smile and waited as he removed the small, white box from the paper. His eyes met yours a final time before he opened the box and stared down at the contents inside.
A quiet exhale escaped your lips as you waited for Joel's reaction. Those next few seconds felt like hours.
"This is, um.. is this what I think it is?" He looked right at you now motioning down toward the box. A wide smile spread on his face, "I mean it's not a positive Covid test, right?"
You managed a light laugh but ultimately the gravity of the situation held you firmly in place. "No, it's not a Covid test."
Joel chuckled to himself and brought a hand across his mouth for a second, before running it across his beard. His eyebrows raised and he reached for the rectangular stick in the box.
"Tell me." He stared intensely across the table at you.
Your bottom lip dropped away from your top one and you hesitated. You weren't sure why but it was such a powerful, permanent set of words to string together. When Joel couldn't contain a smile, it gave you enough confidence to spit the words out with a little, timid shrug of your shoulders.
"I'm pregnant."
"Really?" He asked as if he didn't believe it, rising to his feet. Joel made his way toward you.
You nodded and rose to your feet, feeling completely content and at ease in his arms as he hugged you. The warmth that often radiated from him transferred into you and you closed your eyes as his hand moved up and down your back.
It felt as if Joel didn't want to let you go, and you didn't mind. You smiled to yourself when he kissed your forehead before edging his back an inch or two so you were face-to-face.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
You nodded and smiled back at him. "Yeah. Are you?"
"Yeah." He chuckled, making you laugh and you shared a long, closed-mouth kiss. "I'm going to be a dad." The words came out almost like a question. You were sure the shock of the moment hadn't fully registered yet.
"You're going to be a great dad."
A lopsided smile still lingered on his face. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped and shook his head. When he couldn't find the words, you pulled him back in for a hug and he melted against you.
After a minute or so, Joel finally said. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
He picked you up off the ground and spun you in a circle, making you giggle again. When your feet were back on the ground, Joel put a hand on his head and you saw a dampness in his eyes.
"Don't," you said with a laugh, "I made it this long without crying."
"Sorry," he said with a laugh as a tear streaked his face. "Fuck. I'm the man, I shouldn't be crying."
"That's an outdated take," you told him with a laugh, as he dried his face with his hands.
"I know." He chuckled and then dropped down to his knees in front of you, lifting the shirt to expose your stomach. Despite there being no obvious indications of your pregnancy, Joel placed a hand over your abdomen and then left a single kiss just below your belly button.
You cradled his head against you as he placed the side of his face against the area and hugged around your waist.
"We're going to have our own little family," Joel acknowledged allowed.
"Yeah." You ran your fingers through his hair.
"What do you think, five kids?" He joked, making you laugh as he rose back to his feet.
"Maybe seven or eight," you teased back, accepting a series of kisses from him.
"I love you," Joel said again, tucking hair behind you ear. "Really. I loved you right away. Last year, a week into this, I knew this was something that comes once in a lifetime."
You had tears in your eyes now. "I knew it too. And now you finally get your happily ever after."
"So do you."
@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3 @runningmom94 @mellymbee @shayna-d-clown @bbiophiliaa @theclassicvinyldragon @tiffanypooh @mandijo17 @poodlebae @purple-fig @vabeachazn
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firstkanaphans · 1 year
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okay a tiny prompt that was prompted by your last tiny fic (if you don't like it you obviously don't have to write it!!!! I am just so so happy for everything you give us, the fandom) Akk and aye having a tiny severe argument and go to back but still unhappy with one another. Akk tries to sleep but he seriously can't anymore without cuddling the love of his life. But he is also a proud man. But cuddles. So he tries to angry cuddle his boyfriend or something?
You had me at “angry cuddles” 😂
They had been arguing for so long that Akk couldn’t even remember what had started the fight in the first place. Something stupid, probably, but he was having one of those days where even the smallest inconvenience felt like the end of the world. He had just gotten his grades back from his first round of university exams and he hadn’t done nearly as well as he would have liked. He was worried and irritated and the fact that Aye had managed perfect scores despite the nights he’d spent hanging out at bars with his new faculty friends was not helping Akk's mood. It wasn’t fair. 
Luckily, he was smart enough to realize that nothing was going to get resolved tonight. Not in the mood he was in. He paused mid-argument, closed his eyes, and said, “I’m going to bed.”
When he opened his eyes again, Aye was glaring at him. “Are you serious?” he cried, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “You’re the one that started this! You can’t just walk away in the middle of an argument. We need to work this out, Akk.”
“Tomorrow, okay?” Akk said, his voice softer than it had been all night. 
Aye sighed heavily, probably sensing that pressing things would only lead to more yelling. “Fine,” he said, pushing past Akk into the kitchen. “Sweet dreams.”
It was the most sarcastic goodnight they had ever exchanged and Aye’s tone almost set Akk off again, but he swallowed his pride and headed into the bedroom instead. It felt weird to crawl under the covers with anger still bubbling inside of him, but he knew he needed to let it simmer before it boiled over. He closed his eyes and tried his best to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come.
Thirty minutes passed. Then an hour. He had been sharing a bed with Aye for so long that his body no longer knew how to sleep without him. He let out a huff of frustration, irrationally blaming Aye for this too. It was, after all, technically his fault that Akk loved him so much he could no longer sleep without him in his arms.
It was after midnight before the door to their bedroom creaked open. Akk pretended to sleep as Aye first took a shower and then crawled into bed next to him. Akk half-expected him to curl into his side just like he did every night, but of course he didn’t, and the loss hit him harder than he expected. Despite Aye’s presence beside him, the bed felt cold.
Akk opened his eyes and risked a glance at the other side of the mattress to find that Aye was facing the wall, trying to put as much space between them as possible. Akk frowned, his anger suddenly fizzling out into a deep sadness.
He reached for his boyfriend, his instinct to comfort even despite his anger, but he dropped his hand before he could make contact. No. They were supposed to be fighting. He could go one night without touching Aye. He could.
He rolled back over and tried to ignore the man on the other side of the bed, but his mind still wouldn’t let him sleep. Eventually, his resolve snapped.
“Aye?” he whispered into the darkness. Aye said nothing, but his shoulders tensed and Akk could tell he was still awake. He rolled over and threw his arm around Aye’s waist, tucking the smaller boy beneath his chin. It was the most content he’d felt all day. “Aye?”
“Stop,” Aye grumbled, trying to shrug him off. “I’m still mad at you.”
“So?” Akk whined. “I’m still mad at you too.”
Aye huffed out a sigh, but stopped resisting, and soon his body relaxed.
With Aye in his arms, Akk found peace.
After several minutes spent listening to each other’s heartbeats, Aye rolled over so they could look each other in the eyes. His gaze was measured. “Can you tell me what’s actually going on with you? Please?”
And that was the thing. Akk had known even as he was yelling at Aye about things that didn’t matter that Aye would be able to see right through him—that Aye was maybe the only person in the world that could. 
“I failed my calculus exam,” Akk said. He expected frustration that something so trivial had caused such a huge ruckus, but Aye just wrapped his arms around Akk and pulled him closer.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his nose buried in Akk’s neck, and although the words were simple, they had a profound effect. There was something about holding Aye tight in a home they had made together that made everything else feel inconsequential. “I can help you study next time.”
Akk snorted. “You’re not even taking calculus.”
“No,” Aye agreed. “But I could learn. For you.”
Warmth spread through Akk’s entire body. “I’m sorry for yelling at you,” he said. 
Aye hummed, the apology already accepted. Then he shot up, eyes bright, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. “Oh, you know what we should do? We should have make-up sex!” 
Akk laughed and pulled him back down next to him onto the mattress. “In the morning,” he agreed.  “I just want to hold you for a little while longer.”
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lovebeing-a-girl · 2 months
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almost cried mid-exam bcs I couldn’t remember one answer:)
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wtfcl0ud · 16 days
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trying hard not to anxiety over the fact my final final final exam of uni is scheduled for the day my period is supposed to start IRONICALLY last week? i had the mid term for tht exam n my period started tht day n i think bc i took 3 painkillers (boohoohoo as if ihavent taken like upwards of 8 with minor to no side effects) i almost like passed out b4 the exam so i'm very worried abt what's going to happen AND also i was planning to go into town n go to the library n meet la madre but now i'm scared i wont be feeling well enough cri but i really wanna go to the library n get some books sigh idk what to do :(
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w9ndererdotcom · 1 year
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“in every universe, i’d choose you.” | venti with that poetic rizz/cute and warm moments | MODERN AU
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sorry for disappearing 😭 exams are painful
WARNINGS
idk
clingy venti 
idk how taht was a warning
lowkey reincarnation au too
venti with that poetic rizz
short
a surprise mid-story? 
💍~
reader is gender neutral! no specific gender will be mentioned for reader, here.
“venti, i’m home!” you called, your voice echoing throughout the living room.
your voice, like a sweet melody. reaching to venti’s ears, he instantly rushed out the room and gave the most bone crushing hug ever.
hugging you, as if you were to disappear once he’s let go, “my love! its my love! welcome home!!” he pleaded, planting kisses all over your face.
“ah- venti! its only been 30 minutes...” you recently had buy you both dinner.
venti stopped kissing you, and took a good look at your face, your sweet adorable face, “30 minutes? well..”
he hugged, more gently but still tightly, resting his head on top of  yours pushing your head onto his chest.
he finished his sentence, “30 minutes feel like an eternity.”
you hugged back, enjoying the sweet moment. as quiet as it was, it really was comforting. as long as you were together, everything around is non-awkward.
“you must be tired, c’mon! lets go to our room.” he held your hand, squeezing it as you both made your way to your shared room.
as soon as you both set foot onto the carpet floor, he pulled you towards him to the bed hugging you close.
“didnt even let me change or anything... not that i’m complaining.” you said, wrapping both arms around him.
he giggled softly, and cupped your face, with the most softest smile he started at your eyes.
he inched closer slowly, without you noticing, “my love,” he motioned his thumb, rubbing your soft skin.
“if you were the sun i’d continue staring even though i’d go blind, as your beauty overcomes the sense of pain i shall feel just to see you.” both your foreheads touched, as he moved his hands to hold onto yours. (cr to tiktok)
enjoying your sweet moment, he suddenly giggled and inched back a bit.
“ehehe, i’ve got that poetic rizz!” ruining the warm moment, he suddenly rambles on about apparently having ‘rizz’.
“alright, boomer. enough tiktok for you.” you replied, with a tone of sarcasm.
a gasp came out of him, a dramatic one, “no! you cant, in fact my whole account is almost about you!” and he rambled on about how he saves selfies of you you’d usually sent, you doing this, you doing that...
“wait, you save my selfies?” you suddenly ask him.
he smiled like a dork, “of course! wait- you dont!?!1/!?” his tone of voice immediately changes.
he dramatically cries covering his face with his hands, “s-so you dont save my beautiful handsome selfies?!?! o-or dont make any s-song playlists about m-me??!?!?1!!?” he so dramatically sobs.
you sighed and rolled your eyes, but smiled at your cute boyfriend, “of course i do! it just.. caught me by surprise.” you slowly removed his hands away from his eyes, that weren’t even teary.
instantly, his energetic energy came back and pulled you into another bone crushing hug.
“yay!!!!!! i knew you cared~” he pleaded playing with your hair.
as you cuddled and chat for a while he took another look at your face and lovingly stared into your eyes.
he sighed, “seriously, i’m so lucky to be with you.”
you chuckled, “hm? where is this coming from?” you jokingly replied.
“oh c’mon, [name]! i’m serious~ everything you do is so.. perfect. everything! the way you talk, care for me, care for others, the way you....” he held your hands.
“the way you’ll... perhaps say yes?” he suddenly grabs a ring from no where.
you were shocked, and honestly out of words. but eventually you found the right words, “oh my gods, yes! yess!! a million times yes!!!!” 
he happily chuckled, tears prickling against his eyes as he put on the ring on you, he kissed the hand that now had a ring, “thank you, thank you, thank you...” he pleaded over and over and over... 
“that was one way to propose... in bed? thats really venti of you.” you joked.
he chuckled, quite embarrassed, “welll... i just thought you couldnt handle all the public attention if i just popped the question it in front of a million strangers.” it was so sweet how he cared for you.
“aww, venti..” you cuddled closer to your now fiance.
he big spooned you, resting ontop of your head and holding you close.
“i really am so luck to be with you, like... i must’ve probably fought a poisoned dragon in my past life or something!” you could feel his smile.
you looked up to him and stared into his aqua green eyes gleaming in the night.
“in every universe, i’d choose you.”
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kimhaeni · 1 year
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I've lost my mind
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pairing: Taehyung x female reader
genre: sad, angst, modern fantasy
Summary: Y/N is a girl who's been tortured by her step father, Taehyung rescues Y/N, strangers to lovers.
Warning: abusive parents, abusive words, self harm actions, beating, fight, if you are uncomfortable then kindly leave!
You always believed in the theory:-"We need to remember that we all are unique by our own way. We should not compare ourselves with anyone." But guess what your parents never understand it. It was that when you had been unable to go for the test because you were ill.
"How many times have I told you not miss school? Huh?" Your step father shouted at you throwing your iPad somewhere.
"d-d-dad i-i wwwass sick-k" you stuttered almost breaking down in tears.
"Fuck your sickness! Haven't I told you to be the best at school? Answer me I said? " Your dad shouted almost like a maniac.
"Y-yes, ssorry dad..i won't do that again ...s-sorry"you sobbed.
"I'm warning you the last time, I swear I'll kill you if you missed school again!!!"
"o-ok " you said wiping your tears and taking your bag on your shoulders and leaving outside so that he won't shout at you again.
Fuck. That's what happens all the time if you dare to miss school. You've literally gone crazy bcz of your dad's words all the time. You need to be the best at school. You are not allowed to go at parties and other occasions.You need to work overtime so that you can survive in this hell. You have lost your mind , how is someone supposed to live like this? You hate it the way you always hide your feelings from everyone, the way you are called 'the toxic girl' at school by everyone just because you don't like to talk to anyone. Just because you are able to endure the pain doesn't mean you deserve it. You are forced to live this way. Dying is the only way left in your mind to escape this hell but fuck. You are not even allowed to die without permission.
Yet another day in school.
You were walking to the class when your bully came there...
"Yo toxic what are ya doing?"she asked.
"Leave me alone, I'm not in the mood to fight Laura!" You shouted.
"Got the guts to shout in front of me? Haan?" Laura laughed and banged your head on the wall.
"Ouch!" You cried, blood dripping from your head.
"Girls comeon lets teach her a lesson" Laura called for her gang and not a minute more the girls surrounded you and started beating you mercilessly. Just then Laura brought a baseball bat and was about to hit you, you closed your eyes tightly but later you did not feel anything. You opened your eyes when you saw the girls running outside the corridor and there was just a guy with brown hair around his mid 20s standing in front of you. But just because you were beaten badly you lost consciousness and went blank. All you could feel was someone carrying you somewhere.
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Next part coming soon,stay tuned 🤗
It was very short so please stay tuned for the next one, I have exams so I cannot make the long ones, Thank you for reading.
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uncloseted · 28 days
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What are some good jobs or places to apply for a college student that isnt retail? I've worked at my job for two years and I recently went to a new department and my manager blatantly does not like me. She slides on other ppl calling out and makes me stay to work a 12 hr shift w/o breaks and doesn't even speak to me if it's not to tell me when I'm screwing up. I have cried after almost every shift and I've been there for over a week now. I'm done but I don't want to quit without something (1)
else lined up. I really want to do something independently like in an office so I don't have to worry as much about other people calling out and picking up their slack. I don't mind working less and doing part time if I have to as my current job doesn't allow me as much time to focus on school anyway so it would be a welcome change tbh even if I'm making less money. Any advice? Thank you so much. I'm trying to not just walk out mid shift lol (2)
If you can, I would try to get a paid internship through your college (bonus points if it's in the field you want to go into once you graduate, but anything will work). In my experience, most colleges will have a career's center or someone else you can talk to who can help you find a placement. Paid internships tend to pay more per hour than retail jobs, and they can help you get useful experience or even a full-time job for when you graduate. If you school is signed up on Handshake, I would also check that out.
If an internship isn't a possibility, I would look into jobs that are on-campus at your college. There are usually all sorts of options for this- working as a teacher's assistant, doing research, working at the library, working in student relations, working as a barista at an on-campus coffee shop... the university where I went even has positions like "video production assistant" and "museum student educator" available right now. Your college probably has a website where they post all those available jobs. You can also look into being an RA, which usually has the bonus of providing you with free housing.
Another great option is tutoring, both on and off campus. I tutor through the online platform Wyzant, but you can also seek out clients in-person. I bet a lot of the students on your campus would love one-on-one support for classes that you've already taken, or even just someone to edit their essays. You can also reach out to local high schools to see if they have a "tutor list" they can put you on, advertise in Mom-focused Facebook groups, and put flyers up around your town/city. Especially if you learn to tutor for college entrance exams (SAT and ACT in the US), a lot of parents will be willing to pay a lot of money for your help.
Other than that, you just have to kind of apply for jobs and see if anything works out. Bartending, working at a hotel, working the front desk at a gym/yoga studio/salon/doctor's office/etc, doing food delivery, walking dogs, being a virtual personal assistant, etc. are all jobs that can pay okay and aren't working retail. And if you have any unique skills, I would also look into freelancing, which is great because it lets you be more flexible with your hours.
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vivreenguadeloupe · 1 year
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Soufrière, Vieux Fort et Route du Rhum
the weather on basse terre (other side of Guadeloupe; other wing of the butterfly) is almost always cloudy and rainy. We were lucky enough to catch a good day to go to the volcano. Although we only had some short moments without fog and clouds, a looot of wind and my shoe got stuck in the mud just when we arrived at the top I really liked it. It was a special feeling to be on a volcano and smell the sulphur in the air.
We spent the rest of the afternoon at vieux fort where we jumped off the cliffs and sat by the lighthouse.
Route du Rhum: this is a sailing competition which first took place in 1978 to promote guadeloupe (and ofc it‘s rum). It takes place every 4 years and now, in 2022, there were 138 sailors from all over the world in 6 different categories (boat types) who took part to sale across the atlantic ocean from saint malo to guadeloupe in between 6 days (new record this year) and ~15 days. It was great to welcome the first sailor at 5am and to see all the concerts and events taking place since mid-november.
Besides that Zach had a visitor and we did a trip together and saw &bathed in great natural basins. We spent a great day with Neal and Julie (the friends we made here) and slept on the beach in hammocks and watched the sun rise. Zach left on the 29th of november and this was last on his bucket list to do here.
Zach leaving means that my last steps are the visit of mom and dad, last exams and then off to new adventures in south america. I don‘t want to think about saying goodbye to all the friends I made here and all the places I fell in love with. Tears are ready to be cried.
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365-betterdays · 2 years
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aug 24, 2022 | 7:32pm
hi guys! this is slowly becoming a weekly thing again (which is, kinda better than before where it was a daily thing kasi i had a lot of free time before eh) anyways, i'm feeling.. mid
i cried the other day, kasi i'm rlly scared to fail my math classes. i realized after the test, that it's not really much of a big deal. i mean, kaya nga ni rus mawalan ng pake. sana ako din. kung kaya niya, kaya ko din. i'm scared of failing kasi school is a big thing for me. kaya ayun.
next section: maybe i should work on knowing what to say. sometimes kase i blurt out words and just hope for the best, or hope i said the right things. which is ok, since wala na yung pressure sa sarili ko pero at the same time ang bobo ng mga sinasabi ko pls HAHAHA
sana i could practice more on that end, pero ofc, no pressure parin!!
let's not focus on negative things, but instead let me tell you about how great this week has been!!
i went to nuvali with my ate and nakita ko si angela, i'm not 100% sure if that's her name nga since it has been so long pero yun nga. a quick hello, hi, ingat lang and i feel good about it! kasi i didn't panic or anything. i wasn't v awkward so yeah.
i had face-to-face classes today. i talked to some of my classmates na hindi ko pa gaano nakakausap noon, and we're good. i feel like my social batter has been down a lot more often these days, so i'm recharging. which is healthy for me.
napupuyat ako alot from reviewing and waking up, fixing my stuff and all that, these days and ayun. kanina wala kaming pasok so i slept almost the whole GODDAMN day! which felt so great. ang sarap sa feeling omg ka. ayun. masaya. well rested ako hehe!!
i also found out that i had tigdas-hangin kase may rashes kami ni bela oh my fucking god pero ok lang. papasok parin ako kasi kailangan, i just hope hindi mapansin ng classmates ko. and if they do, siyempre sasabihin ko nalang na my allergies are acting out 'cause i ate sea food.
tomorrow, medyo excited ako kasi we have club! we have pre-cal din which i don't love pero go parin! hahahaha ok ok ok. let's gooo. i haven't bought juice for my pod nga pala. di ko pa alam when ako bibili pero yea. pagiisipan ko nalang, tutal naayos ko naman na budget ko. just not vvv specific like, kung paano ba expenses ko and etchetera. more on go with the flow kasi ako these days kaya nauubos e. HAHAHA. anyways! may exam pako next week. good luck sa'kin kasi simula palang 'to at umiiyak nako. sana kayanin ko pa kasi meron pakong ilang sem na iiyakan. bale, i'll stay hydrated nalang. kailangan ko ng kausap before i sleep, so maghahanap ako. bored yarn? sige. gooo katrina!! FIGHT!! HAHA.
before i leave, gusto ko magleave ng eensy-teensy tiny little note for myself. i realized lately, na i should follow through more often with the things i say i want to do. i know naman na i could do it more than i had done. gusto ko lang sanayin sarili ko patungo sa mga gusto kong magawa. think. say. do. then i'll get some kind of result, after. follow through. i could apply that to a lot of things, which is eating less. saving my money. sleeping GODDAMN EARLY. drinking more water. study. like study for real. not be too clingy. don't say too much than you should, be more appropriate. don't fuck this up c, do ur best! i'm proud of you and, i love you!
Good night, i had a nice week! here's to following through!!!!!
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noctumbra · 3 years
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𝒕𝒉𝒆 (𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓) 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚
summary ─ “why don’t we have this thing they call goodbye sex? one last time.” he leaned forward, his lips brushing your ear. “i’ll make it good for you.”
pairing ─ fuckboy!bucky barnes x reader 
warnings ─ smut, +18, alcohol usage, exes, goodbye sex, light angst, dirty talk, pet names, drunkiness, oral sex, choking, riding, mentions of infidelity/cheating, bucky gets around is what i meant, mean!bucky (not extreme, just a bit heartless), sort of one night stand
a/n ─ you can thank @clementinesandstars​​ for the idea they provided. without their idea, this fic wouldn’t be happening probably lol i really hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do, thank youuu <33
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Crowds weren’t your thing most of the time, but tonight, it was a nice way of distracting yourself. Sweaty, half-drunk and half-naked bodies were grinding each other, bass boosted house music was blasting on the speakers, you almost forgot why you were sad this morning.
The alcohol in your hand had something to do with it, too. Closing your eyes, you tipped your head back and continued to dance.
This was probably the last party you might be able to attend in the next month or so since your exams were starting in a week. You were going to be busy as hell and you wanted to let it loose before the freight train hit you.
You leaned back against the body you felt behind you. It was warm and solid; must be a male, you thought and smiled to yourself. You felt arms around your waist and you were being pulled against the solid body fully.  
“You look beautiful dancing on your own like that,” you heard them saying, and you froze. No fucking way, you thought to yourself and turned around.
Bucky Barnes was standing in front of you with a smirk and in a white wifebeater.  The tattoos on both of his arms were on display, you could also pick his neck tattoos, too. His skinny black jeans were hugging his thick thighs beautifully, complimenting his ass along the way. His mid-length hair was swept back. He had a soft scruff going and, fuck me, you thought. He looked so good.
It didn’t give him any right to come up to your after what he had done to you, though.
“What the fuck, Bucky?” You hissed, stepping away from him. “You can’t do this shit with me anymore.” He narrowed his eyes. A playful smirk was on his lips, and you wanted to punch him.
“Why not?” He said. “We are having fun, and you know what amount of fun we have together. Have you forgotten already?” He grabbed the plastic cup in your hand and finished your drink, throwing the cup somewhere in the room. He stepped forward. “Why don’t we have this thing they call goodbye sex? One last time.” He leaned forward, his lips brushing your ear. “I’ll make it good for you.”
“Did you make it good for her, too?” You couldn’t help but spat at him. Your eyes were burning with the anger and hurt you felt. “You fucker,” you pushed him. “You screw around with her and then you think you have a right to come up to me and ask for a goodbye sex? Fuck you.” A spark went off in his steel blue eyes. He stepped forward once again, fully in your personal space now.
“Take your hate out on me,” he whispered, lips hovering over yours. “Get your frustration and all your anger out of me, baby. I put them there, get rid of them with me. C’mon…” You couldn’t help but shiver as his lips brushed against yours as he spoke.
You were brave enough to admit yourself that you were going give in to him eventually. Having him touch you like that one last time sounded like a heaven for you. You’ve been hurting ever since you found out that he dumped you for another woman whom he had been seeing around for some time, and even the thought of you stop hurting for a short while meant relief.
“Sweetheart…” He whispered as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Give in, come on. I know you want it…” You could feel tears welling up, but you didn’t want him to see you cry so you blinked them away. You whimpered softly. He took your whimper as ‘yes’ and leaned in to kiss you.
You moaned into his mouth when his lips met with yours. They were always so soft and always kissed you so sweet, you gasped lightly when you realized how they soothed your pain. Rising on your tiptoes, you wound your arms around his neck and pulled him in. Bucky growled as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His hold was tight and possessive; you loved it whenever he held you against him like this.
“Hold on,” he grunted. You tightened your arms around his neck and felt his hands grabbing the back of your thighs. In a blink, you were in his arms and being carried away from the crowd. You could feel the rings adorning his long and thick fingers. His tongue piercing was mocking with your tongue, making you let out little moans each time.
You didn’t realize that you were in some room until he laid you on the bed. You pulled back from his lips, breathless and achy. You watched him strip his wifebeater hungrily. His body was like a sculpture; all hard muscles and abs and bulging biceps with tattoos all over the tanned skin. You trailed your fingers over his abs, feeling them twitch. Bucky smirked and stuck his hands under your dress.
His lightly calloused, soft hands made contact with your bare thighs, and you gasped. You felt him trailing his hands upwards slowly, to drive you mad, and you whined as you arched your back. His touch was addicting, and you always responded to it so well, Bucky had told you so.
“The sounds you make, princess,” Bucky whispered. “They drove me fuckin’ crazy.” You mewled when he dug his nails in the skin of your hips. Bucky slowly peeled your dress off you, revealing an inch of deliciously naked skin to his hungry eyes with every step.
In under a minute, you were a naked and breathless mess before him. You felt your cheeks heat up, a sudden shyness seeping in, and you tried to cover your body as much as you could with your hands.
“No,” he whispered, “No, baby, lemme see.” He grabbed your hands and locked them in his hand over your head. His lips were right against your pulse, his hot breath was licking the sensitive skin there, making you shiver. Bucky dipped down and kissed the wildly beating pulse. He peppered kisses, sucking the skin a little and he bit down gently.
“Bucky…” You breathed. He just hummed and made his way downwards. His lips found your nipple, and he took one in his mouth; his fingers were playing with the other. Your nipples were sensitive as hell normally, but with the piercings on both of them ─Bucky made you do it─, they were even more sensitive. You cried out in ecstasy, head thrown back. Bucky continued to suck on the sensitive nipple, continued to pinch and roll the other one between his thumb and point finger. “God, fuck, Bucky!” You gasped when you felt his teeth grazing over the piercing.
“I told you getting them pierced was a great idea,” he murmured after he pulled back. “Lookit these cute things,” he cooed as he pinched both your nipples. “They look so good, baby, with these things on. You look so fuckin’ sexy with’em.” He dipped down again but to suck on your other nipple, and you grabbed him by the hair as he went on sucking.
“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, fuck!” Your whole body was alive with the pleasure Bucky was giving you. Your toes were curling, your thighs were trembling slightly and your clit was throbbing. You were burning alive. “Please…” You whimpered. You pulled on Bucky’s hair hard, causing him to moan throatily. He pulled briefly.
“That’s not how you ask things, now, is it?” He asked, raising a brow at you. You swallowed harshly as you surpassed a violent shiver because of the way he was looking at you. He slapped your nipple. “Ask me nicely.” You whimpered.
“Sir,” you moaned. His pleased, cocksure smirk took over his lips. “Please,” you whispered. “Please, I need you, sir.”
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his hands stroking your thighs gently. “What you want? Hm? Tell me.” He peppered kisses all over your stomach, his nose poked your breasts and you shivered. “C’mon, tell me.”
“I wanna come,” you breathed. Your eyes closed already, fingers playing with Bucky’s hair. “Please, sir, I wanna come.” Bucky hummed and moved down on the bed, laying down on his stomach. Your heart jumped to your mouth with his new position. He took your legs and placed them over his broad shoulders.
You knew it was coming but the first lick he gave you had you screaming. You threw your head back, eyes closed and back arched, you cried out. With kitten licks, he cleaned the slick on your lips and eased some of the throbbing on your clit. You heard him clearing his throat and you lifted your head to watch him. He pulled back to spit the slick he collected from your pussy on you.
“Oh, fuck,” you moaned as you took in the sight. You felt his spit trailing down and making you shudder with the feeling. Your thighs trembled around his head. He soothed it by rubbing them up and down. Then, he leaned in and gave you a fat lick; a kind of lick where you felt his piercing stroking your sensitive flesh. “James!”
He hummed. He was licking and slurping on your pussy all the while rubbing your thighs gently and holding your hips down. Your back was arched and head thrown back once again. Your fingers were deep in his thick chestnut hair, pulling and just holding.
Bucky was eating your pussy like he had been starving.
You keened high when you felt the familiar tightening on your belly. “Sir,” you moaned. “’m close, sir. Please, I’m─” You moaned again. “Fuuck, sir, ‘m so close─”
Bucky pulled back only to slide two of his fingers in you. “Come, baby,” he murmured. “Come.” He buried his face again; lips around your clit, fingers plunging in and out of you rapidly, you fell from the edge. You gasped, pulled on his hair and your thighs trapped his head there. Bucky hummed throughout your orgasm.
You moaned as you pushed his face away a little. Things were becoming a bit sensitive. He pulled back. His chin was shining with your slick, and the sight made you feel all warm. Bucky made his way up to your lips. He pressed a sweet, chaste kiss. You smiled.
“You always look so damn sexy when you come,” he whispered against your lips and bent down to kiss you again, but this time you didn’t let him pull back. You kissed him all the while slowly pushing him onto his back, climbing on his lap and continued to kiss him while sitting on his lap. You could feel his hard cock under you, trapped in his jeans. Your hands found his belt and you quickly got rid of it. Unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper were the next steps, and then you pulled back to strip him from his jeans. It needed a bit work, but it was off and you were back on his lap. You handed him the condom you pulled out from his pocket. Bucky reached for it as he also pulled you down to kiss you again. You helped him put the condom on.
Bucky wiggled on the bed, taking a comfy position for you to ride him. You smiled and mounted him, grabbing his hard cock, you lined it up.
You always loved riding him, always loved how he made you feel when you sank down on him, loved how it made him grab your hips tightly to stop himself from coming. Just like now; he was holding onto your hips, nails and rings digging into your skin and his head was thrown back, his neck was exposed. You breathed a sigh as you bottomed out. You stayed like that for a couple seconds and then, you started to move.
It was slow and light movements at first, but soon you started to bounce on his cock. Breathless little moans and grunts slipped from his mouth. His hands came down on the soft flesh of your ass harshly for a couple times, smacking sounds only spurring you on even more.
“Holy shit,” he moaned and let out a deep growl. “Yes, yeah, like that…” He bit his lip, eyes hooded and dark, hair a mess, he looked so beautiful under you. You whimpered when he grazed over your sweet spot. You leaned forward and placed your hands on his pecs for support. Your thighs were burning with the exhaustion, but you were close. You could feel Bucky was also close; he was whimpering and moaning softly as he murmured filth under his breath. “God, yeah, yeah. Fuck.”
You chuckled breathlessly. You loved it when he was all gone during sex. It made you feel powerful knowing that you did that. Bucky moaned when you rode him even harder and quicker. His hands tightened on your hips and he pinned them down. Then, he planted his feet on the bed and started to thrust up into you. You screamed. Mouth dropped open, you moaned and gasped. His slick skin was smacking against yours, creating obscene sounds, you whimpered. He felt so good in you, filled you up so nicely… He was going to make you come, it was so close.
“Fuck, ‘m close,” you breathed. Bucky groaned out an approval as he threw his head back, driving his hips up at a mad pace. You slid your hand and grabbed his throat. He choked on a moan, eyes snapping open, steel blue eyes found yours. You squeezed it lightly.
“Motherfuck─” He managed and his pace faltered. He groaned loud and long as he came, his thigh muscles jumping and twitching madly under yours. He exposed his throat even more to you, pressing it into your hand. You moaned as you felt his cock twitch in you. He moved one of his hands from your hip to your clit and he rubbed it with his thumb. You gasped.
“Oh!” You cried out, “Oh, Bucky, James, fuck!” You felt the center of your world shift and whole body convulsing as you came on his cock.
“JesusfuckingChrist,” he gritted. “You’re like a fuckin’ vice, what the fuck.” You squeezed your hand around his throat, digging your nails a bit deeper. He let out a guttural moan. You pulled your hand back as you collapsed on his chest.
“Holy shit,” you breathed. Bucky hummed. He rolled you over and pulled out slowly. You lay on the bed; your legs had turned into jelly and your body buzzing with pleasure still. You watched Bucky disposing the condom and reaching for his jeans. He pulled them on, doing a quick work with his belt, too. You suddenly started to feel cold. Bucky reached for his undershirt and put it on.
“Well,” he said. “Goodbye.” He threw you a distant smile and walked out of the room, briefly letting in the noises from the party that was still going on downstairs.
You tensed. All the good feelings came with the sex had gone in a blink, and you shivered. Reaching for your own clothes, you put them on. There was an empty feeling inside of you. You couldn’t feel if your heart was still beating, or if your skin was still warm. All you could feel was the cold air around you and the emptiness.
You sobbed once silently as you, too, walked out of the room. He wanted to have a goodbye sex and that was what you had.
You never thought returning back to the real world where you didn’t have him would hurt this bad, but it did: You were hurting all over.
You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a second. You were used to the pain that came with him. It was why you loved him in the first place. You knew you could never have him, but it didn’t stop you.
Letting the house music fill into your mind, you made your way downstairs to find more alcohol.
You felt enough for a night, you thought. It was time to feel nothing and time to have some real fun. After all, this was the after party.
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noxnephilim · 2 years
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BONE BREAKER OR BONE SETTER?
Ft. Bo Sinclair, Asa Emory, Jesse Cromeans
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It had been a few days since you last saw him rolling his shoulder, and your brains just went automatically into "therapist mode".
Let's face it you thought it would have been far more difficult to get him down on the bed, but sure enough, he complied rather quickly. He didn't know what he was in for.
After you warmed his muscle up and eased some of the tension he was carrying in his whole body, you started to check his spine.
"Deep breath, Bo I'm going to crack your back, relax it's going to be fun". It's going to be fun you said. You almost killed him. Or so he thought,you were laughing so hard you were crying.
After a long session, Bo mixed grunts and moans, you were satisfied with your work. Well, you were,Bo wasn't in any state to answer.
Vincent poked his head through the door, just to check if everything was alright, and quickly left. What he saw was something out of this world.
" See? That wasn't so bad, sweetie. Now was it?". You couldn't understand if he was happy or not, his answer was kind of a mix of a long moan and a groan.
The next day he couldn't even get up, cause he was feeling like jelly, but he was feeling... floaty. "Y/n, n'xt time...we do t'at again..." He somehow slurred from his sleep.
Yep, definitely worked.
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You have wanted to do something good for your man. He had a tough month, between exams and new addition to the collection, he was left a walking corpse. Sure enough, you saw by his posture that he was in a desperate needing of a good rub down.
That would be one of the few times you had control of the situation. Don't be fooled, he trusted you with his life to not do something stupid, but even he couldn't deny the fact that you know he needed this.
The fact that he was already agile left you with less work to do. You started with some light stretches and then proceeded to crack his bones first. He grunted hard, the entire spine cracked in one single pop.
"Asa... seriously you need to start getting a healthier sleeping schedule", and without wasting time you proceeded to adjust every single bone in his body. Now that the tough part was done, you could simply massage his tired muscles, and you were pleased to see him sigh.
What you didn't expect to happen what to see him asleep. You quietly put everything away and climbed in bed after him. You did a good job.
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It was him who was bothering you to get his bone cracked. You told him stories of men and women crying during one of your toughest session.
Of course, he didn't believe you, Y/n, what were you expecting? Anyway, he bothered you for so long that you gave in. Not without placing a bet first: the loser had to do everything the winner said, and you could use some nice massages after all.
So, he laid down ok the bed, and you started with your routine. First some warm-up,then some light massage, then you went to crack his bone.
You heard some nice pops but it wasn't enough. You could feel him taunting you to do better. From his phone, an electronic voice spoke up. "Is that all you got?"
" Oh no dear, we've just started". You felt him shiver in fear, your voice had dropped two octaves. Popping your hands you quickly went to work on his trigger points. He needed a good run down, after all the injuries you were sure there were some problematic areas.
Now, you would have liked to hear him scream, but after only 10 seconds of you pressing on his calf he tapped out. "Weren't you complaining before? I'm just getting started"
This went on for another 40 minutes, where you were able only to do one leg and a half. Mid work he tapped out again, and promptly collapsed on the bed, exhausted.
Now he understood why some men cried, it was fucking torture. He didn't even care that he had lost the bet. He just wanted to getaway.
Never again would he try you like this.
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Text
bb / gg, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: Jeon Jungkook is the lead singer in a rock band and failed his Biology class last semester, so he has to take remedial classes over the summer. You're the Biology TA, double major in Psychology and Biology, watching him freak out over his make-up exam because he had overslept. Both of you are surrounded by rumors. Does the title stand for bad boy / good girl or bad bitch / good guy? Who knows.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; not the healthiest dynamic tbh; slight angst due to perceived unrequited love; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, begging, scratching / marking, choking, handjob (he is still wearing underwear), multiple orgasms, cowgirl, hair pulling, edging / orgasm denial, cock ring usage, m-masturbation, cum-eating); non-idol!BTS – rock singer, sub!Jungkook x studious, dom!reader
yes, it's SOWOOZOO JK, both the first yellow tropical look and the shredded black shirt look; for those who wanted him to be dom!JK, there is a moment when he is but not in the way you think because that's how I operate
--
Jeon Jungkook was a bad boy.
Wore too much black, dyed his hair too much, had tattoos, always had girls hanging around him. Sang in a rock band on the weekends, played electric guitar, played the game of how-many-numbers-can-I-get tonight? Never gave a girl his leather jacket to wear but was happy to buy her a drink and flirt with her until she got hot with arousal.
You were a good girl.
Always wore a blazer. Crisp white dress shirt and pleated skirt underneath, usually in a dark color. Sensible heels, but always heels. Did too many units a semester because you were double majoring in psychology and biology. Always arrived to class early, always turned in your assignments on time, always turned in your tests early and aced that shit. Took physics with calculus even though you didn’t have to because it was the harder one and you wanted a challenge.
-
Against the wall, shoving a fist into the neck, lips to lips, teeth snapping, hand travelling down, whimpering pleas and harsh growls, keep crying, I like it, ecstasy and pain, nails to skin. Tearing clothes off, biting, marking, I own you, and then, yes, you do, mouth and tongue, aching pleasure, cocked eyebrow, mocking the pathetic whines and cries, stopping right before the end, no, please, I’ve been good, and, you take what you get, hand fitting onto the neck, squeezing the sides, eyes rolling back, skin to skin, bruising slaps that would be seen tomorrow in the mirror, traced with shaking fingers and pants of an open mouth, moaning at the memory of sky-high pleasure while lightheaded and thoughtless, desperate to do it again.
-
There was a rumor.
Everyone liked Jeon Jungkook. He had two smiles, an endearing one and a teasing one. Both encapsulated the kind of person he was, honest and playful. He always sang with conviction, he rapped with savagery, and his lyrics were always from the heart. He always hung out with his bandmates after their performances at bars and interacted with those that came up to him. No one ever said Jungkook was mean or rude in any way.
And yet.
There was a rumor.
A rumor that Jeon Jungkook was taken.
He was the kind of guy that always made sure a drunk girl got home safe even though he didn’t know them. Paid for their taxi and everything. He focused a lot on his music and writing lyrics he thought would connect with others while taking into account his band members. He always told the truth if a girl confessed to him, saying he wasn’t looking right now, that he was very sorry if she thought otherwise, that there was someone he was already interested in.
-
“Oi.”
You slammed a hand onto the tabletop and Jeon Jungkook jumped, the shredded black shirt he was wearing falling down his shoulder, revealing his ink black tattoos on his tan skin. He was wearing a black tank top underneath.
“What’s with you? You missed the exam for your remedial class and you’ve spent the past ten minutes spacing out at your make-up exam,” you barked, pointing to his empty exam sheet. “You haven’t even filled out you name.”
Jungkook swallowed hard. “S… Sorry.”
You frowned. Why was he apologizing to you? Honestly, why did you sign up for this summer TA position again? Oh, right, money and credits. Hmph. It was really just an excuse for the professor to slack off while you did the tedious things like grading and watching over idiots that skipped class. Sorry, overslept. Hung over, probably, since this was the Jeon Jungkook. Rockstar, hottie, famous in his own way.
Whatever.
He could be Jesus Christ and you would still be scolding him for missing his remedial Biology exam.
“Fill out your name so at least I can fail you properly.”
Not that it mattered, since you knew who he was. He didn’t know you knew who he was, and you had zero incentive to inform him that you were indeed aware of the existence of black-haired, tattooed, chiseled-jaw, sparkly-eyed Jeon Jungkook, all due to the constant snide remarks that followed you in your wake.
You wouldn’t be such a bitch if a guy like Jeon Jungkook put you in your place.
Who the fuck was Jeon Jungkook?
This guy, this weirdo about to fail his fucking Biology exam in front of your face.
Impatiently, you rolled up the sleeves of your gray blazer and grabbed a chair, dragging it up to the table. You snapped the chair down and sat in it, smoothing your skirt. You liked to be neat. Even though university didn’t have a uniform, you liked to keep some sort of uniform for yourself. There was a sense of security in knowing you didn’t have to select an outfit every morning. Today, white dress shirt, gray blazer, pleated black skirt that hit slightly higher than mid-thigh. Every other outfit was some variation of this and, in the winter, you wore thick stockings.
You clicked your heels together under the table sharply.
He flinched at the sound.
Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was mumbling at his paper.
“I… I think I studied the wrong chapters…”
You clicked your tongue. Jeez.
His hand was shaking so bad that his pen was practically vibrating. You leaned over the table, grabbing his fist to still it.
“Stop.”
Your bare knees hit his bare knees, mostly because he was wearing black jeans with giant holes in them. Jungkook froze, head snapping up, silver earrings jangling, black hair flying, undercut visible for a second.
“You want to pass this class or what?”
He nodded quickly in response.
“Good. I want to get out of here. Keep your mouth shut. Answer to the first question is A.”
His eyes widened.
“Are you… helping me cheat?” he whispered, terrified.
You cocked your head, letting go of his hand. “You said you studied the wrong chapters. I’m not spending forty-five minutes of my life to watch you panic and then ten minutes more failing you,” you replied lowly, dangerous edge to your voice.
“I… couldn’t… I mean…”
You shoved his knees open with yours, narrowing your eyes as he yelped, pleading look in those brown doe eyes. You pressed your knees on the inside of his thighs, keeping them open.
“Answer to the second question is C.”
When Jungkook didn’t move, you reached over and cupped his chin. Felt his racing heartbeat pounding through his veins, coursing through your fingertips. Stared deep into those eyes, lowering the octave of your voice, keeping his thighs spread for you under the table.
“Listen to me,” you murmured softly. “Okay, Jungkook?”
“O… Okay…”
And he did.
-
There was a rumor.
Nobody liked you. Maybe it was because of your high scores ruining the class test average. Maybe it was the dismissive way you spoke to people, almost demeaning. Most likely it was a combination of the two. Students talked behind your back all the time, spreading rumors. Friends? What friends? You had an average of twenty class credits a semester. You didn’t have time to make friends. And besides, why try to make friends when clearly nobody wanted to be your friend?
And yet.
There was a rumor.
You ignored such things. You didn’t need such distractions.
-
“It would be too suspicious if you got full marks. This score is high enough.”
“O… Okay…”
“Get on the table.”
Jungkook scrambled on the wooden tabletop as you pushed his exam aside. You were still sitting in your chair. Your head tilted, eyebrow lifting at his speedy response to your rather suspicious request.
“You listened.”
He blinked at you. “Uh… yeah?”
Silence.
“Why?” you finally said.
Jungkook gulped. “Be… because you asked,” he mumbled, knees on the table, hands clutching his knees.
“You can just walk out and report me.”
He shook his head quickly, black hair flying everywhere. “I don’t want to.”
Your other eyebrow raised. He chewed on his lip, a flash of pink tongue in his movement.
“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”
Well.
You decided to test his conviction.
“Edge of the table. Spread your legs for me.”
Instantly, obediently, Jeon Jungkook surprised you by doing it, putting each leg on either side of you, chunky black sneakers hanging down. Shredded black shirt open, hands behind his ass, towering over you, and yet his eyes were watching you, waiting for more, begging for instruction.
“Hm.”
You raised your chin, seeing his impressively muscular thighs and body displayed for you to take. He was so close you could smell his clean, dreamy scent, like a meadow in summer dusk, surrounded by peeking stars and blinking fireflies. Interesting.
But you didn’t need the distraction.
“That’s it. You can go now,” you said dismissively, about to push your chair back.
His legs closed in, pressing firmly into your upper arms. Your eyes flickered up to him.
Jungkook shook his head very slowly.
“Do what you want.”
You saw his chest rise and fall, his silvery voice deepening, pupils expanding.
“I know you want to do something to me.”
His erection was bulging against the zipper of his black jeans. Your eyes went back to his face. He shivered at your sharp stare. All of this was happening in an otherwise empty lecture hall, with you and Jungkook at the very bottom.
Just you and him.
You placed your hands on his thighs. He jumped a little, but scooted closer to you. You slid your hands up. You undid the button of his jeans, scrutinizing those brown eyes. He raised his hips to help you as you pulled the zipper down.
“You don’t know me,” you finally said, no inflection in your voice.
He didn’t look away. “I don’t care.”
“Hmm.” You smirked. “Bad boy, aren’t you?”
Jungkook shook his head slightly, but didn’t break eye contact as you pulled his pants to his knees and reached for his black boxer briefs. “No. I’m a good guy. I want to give you what you want.” You hooked your fingers over the waistband and nicked his skin with your nails, making him gasp, the pleasure evident in his tone. He did not try to hide it from you. “I want to be good for you.”
“Why is that?”
He hung his head a little.
“Something about… how you make me feel…” he muttered. His gaze finally faltered. You reached up and righted his chin, forcing him to look at you. Saw that Jungkook had a mole under his mouth, perfectly in the center. He had a nice shape to his pink lips. You tapped his cheek, nudging him to elaborate. “You… You’re so pretty… and smart… Everyone looks up to you because you have such good grades…”
You doubted that.
Jungkook probably had no idea that most of the school hated your guts.
You didn’t have classes with Jungkook, but you were sure he knew your name because your name was posted on the Dean’s List of the highest-ranking students of the university every semester. Also, you weren’t hard to miss. Every student moved out of your way when you walked through the halls, whispering behind their hands.
Jungkook brought you back to the present.
“I feel,” he whispered, voice trembling, gaze locking with yours. “I feel like I want to be on my knees for you.”
His skin was warm under your nails.
“Like this is where I belong, in your hands.”
You stood up.
Jungkook started, turning into a tight squeak as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him down.
“Lift up your shirt with both hands.”
He did was he was told, revealing his toned abs and the lower half of his pecs, biting his lip, clutching onto his tank top, ears turning red as he craned his head to look down at you. You didn’t give him any satisfying response. His tan skin seemed to glow under the overhead lights. You studied his face.
Reached up and began to rub his erection through his underwear.
“A… ah…”
“Gonna make you cum like this.”
He shook his head quickly. “P… Please, no…”
You felt him swell and twitch under your hand. He was pretty big. Thick. Pretty boy with a pretty dick, probably. You rubbed the head with your palm, feeling his pre-cum leaking through the thin fabric. He wasn’t kidding when he said you made him feel some kind of way.
“Why not? Make you cum in your underwear and then you have to go all the way home covered in it. All dirty, just for me.”
His handsome face twisted with sinful pleasure at your suggestion, whimpers in his throat. His cock jerked with need, wanting it.
“O… Okay. Whatever you want.”
So obedient.
“So obedient, Jungkook,” you purred, rubbing faster.
He nodded. “For you. Only for you. Just for you.”
Was it just saying those things because he thought that was what you wanted to hear? Or was that how he actually felt? Surely not the latter, considering he didn’t really know you. You leaned over him, placing your free elbow on the table to stabilize yourself. You hadn’t even kissed him.
“You’re so hard for me,” your drawled, lowering your head, letting your warm breath float down onto his skin. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?”
“Y… yes, please…”
“You want to be my toy?”
You pressed your lips to his bellybutton, feeling the smoothness of his skin, tasting it. He moaned at your kiss, your swift tongue flickering out to that delicious skin, whining when your teeth nipped at the softness. Fuck, he tasted so good that you wanted to mark him. Looked so fucking good that you wanted to mess him up, mar him with temporary imperfections on the perfection that was Jeon Jungkook.
“Yes…”
With breathless, lustful conviction.
You licked up his abs, increasing the intensity and speed of rubbing the engorged head of his cock, the pre-cum already soaked through and creating a slippery surface, turning Jungkook’s pitched whines to deep moans, a melody that filled up the entire lecture hall until was the only thing you could hear, Jungkook’s moans as you bit his skin, his moans as you sucked on his skin, moans as you kissed the hard muscle, cries for more at you left marks, pleading for you, sweet and beautiful, clutching his shirt so tight that his knuckles were white, the black tattoos of his right hand standing out, his cock throbbing in your hand, his hips rising to hump your palm, your name on his lips, over and over and over.
“Gonna… gonna cum…” he panted, sniffing slightly, cheeks flushing pink. “Gonna cum like how you want me to, all over my underwear…”
Your fingertips touched his side, seeing him stiffen and then shudder at your gentle caress.
“Do it,” you murmured. “Show me how good you are at listening, Jungkook.”
He bit his lower lip, jaw clenching, squeezing his eyes shut, tipping his head back into the tabletop, whining your name in his chest, your palm working him, slick and hot and hard, pulsating under your roughness. With a sharp moan, his lower lip popped out of his teeth, dark red and swollen, small mole quivering.
“F-Fuck…!”
You felt it and heard it, the unmistakable jolt and squelch as his orgasm splattered inside his boxer briefs, drenching the fabric, drenching your hand, his embarrassed whines as he realized what he had done but still humping your hand, forcing out every last twitch of dribbling cum, causing you to smear it everywhere, coating the sensitive head and adding to the pleasure, his cheeks flushed red, eyes squeezed shut to savor the pleasure and avoid looking at you.
“Shh…”
You crawled onto the table, still holding his cock through his soiled underwear, squeezing it, free hand slipping under his head and lifting him, his eyes weakly opening, scared and anxious, but all you did was lean down and kiss him, pressing your lips to that pure softness, exhaling his name into his mouth, his scent staining your hand, his cologne filling your nose, your whisper in his throat.
“Time for you to go home.”
-
Jungkook thought you would tell everyone.
You did no such thing.
Instead, you ignored him.
He would see you three times a week and, three times a week, you arrived with the professor and left with the professor. Jungkook tried much harder to attend classes, but you seemed not to care either way. He would come to the front and collect his assignment and find that you had marked it up exactly like everyone else, red marks all over his incorrect answers. You didn’t even look in his direction.
The next exam was coming up quickly.
Part of him considered skipping exam day to have one-on-one time with you again.
“Jungkook.”
He jumped, jerking his head towards the hall, confused. Somehow, he had heard your voice. Or rather, did he imagine it? His teeth sunk into his lip, placing a hand on his forehead, confused. His head was confused. He couldn’t think straight. Why had he done such an embarrassing thing with you? Even you had told him to leave and report you. But Jungkook just couldn’t. Not then and not now. He had asked for it.
He still wanted it.
Nobody knew. Everybody thought he was a cocky, womanizing playboy. And he was, but not because of the sex. It was only because he was bored and that was all he could get. There was power in being on top.
And there was power in letting go.
You were bad for him.
He was a good guy.
You were a bad bitch.
And nobody knew.
A hand slapped down on his shoulder and yanked him around, the loose short sleeves of his yellow tropical shirt flaring out, making his sunglasses rattle on his face. You narrowed your eyes at him. Instant shivers down his spine at your stern gaze.
“Are you deaf?” you snapped. “I’ve been calling your name for the past minute.”
“I… S-Sor–”
You waved a hand dismissively, grabbing his right hand and slapping down a post-it into it.
“Chapters for the exam, including the date and time. Do not miss it this time. I will not let you make it up and fail you on the spot.”
You turned on your heel, letting go of his hand.
His left one shot out and circled around your arm, his rings pressing into your skin.
“Wait.”
You jerked your head towards him, glaring sharply. “Don’t touch me.”
And you yanked your arm out of his grasp, but his legs made the choice for him, following your swift strides, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, clutching the post-it and his last strands of sanity.
“Please, wait.”
“What?” was your curt response, not looking back at him.
“Please do it again,” he gasped breathlessly, unable to stop himself.
“Do what?”
“Have your way with me.”
You stopped walking.
Jungkook walked straight into your back and banged his nose on your head. He winced, stepping back and rubbing it gingerly. He didn’t register you turning around until it was too late and you were right in his face. You raised your chin and eyebrow simultaneously.
“No.”
He blinked rapidly, his tinted sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose.
“W… Why? Did you not like it? Was… was I bad?”
You let out an amused scoff.
The side of your lips curved upwards.
He had made you smile, even if only a little bit. Just that small thing was enough to feed his courage.
“I…” Jungkook coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke again, voice still a soft whisper in his embarrassment even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “I can be better. I can do better.”
Silence.
He thought you were going to walk away again.
You reached up and plucked his glasses off his nose. Folded them neatly and tucked them in his tropical shirt pocket. Then your eyes found his again and he knew something was different. He could see you clearly now, his vision no longer clouded by sienna.
Now, Jungkook could no longer stop it.
He could feel it all over him, coursing through his veins, arousal like fire. Something about you and something about him. Jungkook could sense the danger, but he didn’t want to run even though he knew he should. He had heard the rumors surrounding you. They could be true.
And yet.
“I want it,” Jungkook breathed, inviting himself into the danger. “I want you. I want to be your toy.”
Your discerning expression didn’t change.
You reached up and gripped his chin, digging your nails into his soft skin.
He whimpered in his chest, moving closer to you.
“What’s my name?”
His brows furrowed, saying your name hesitantly.
You pulled his chin down so he was eye-level.
“Next time you say my name, I will be choking it out of you.”
-
Everyone thought Jeon Jungkook was the kind of guy to grip your wrist with his left hand and your throat in his right, his lips against your ear and his sweaty chest against your back as you slapped your ass into his crotch and fucked yourself with his rock-hard cock, his smirk in your ear as he provided you with a certain type of encouragement.
“That’s right, you want this dick, don’t you? Show me. Prove to me you want it.”
His fingertips tightening against the sides of your neck, listening to your pathetic cries and moans as you tried to squirm against him, brain running out of oxygen due to lack of blood, running out of thoughts, running out of pleas as Jungkook gripped your wrist, deep snarl against your hair as he roughly finished himself off using your body because that’s all you were, someone to be used by him and nothing more, neck suddenly released with a breathless gasp and shoved face first into the sheets with his right hand splayed on your back, his tattoos and your orgasm crashing down on you, his growls staining the air and a fierce jerk of his hips to spill into your tight hole and leave you moments after, nothing but a discarded toy in his eyes.
You thought.
That was what everyone thought when Jeon Jungkook stood on stage, flipping his dark violet microphone between verses and smirking like a devil, truly in command of every thought and every pair of eyes on him, surrounded by a heavy bass line and deafening drums, guitar solo tearing through the moment to emphasize the next of his lips nearing the mic again, entrancing the crowd with his beautiful lips and talented tongue.
No one knew.
-
You were riding him hard and fast, torn condom wrappers and used condoms littering his bed, back-to-back orgasms, his head pressed into his pillows, your hand around his neck, the other leaving long lines down his chest, scratching him so hard that it dotted red, blooming lines of pain.
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f-fuck…”
Jungkook was hoarsely whispering, clutching his sheets, black hair soaked with sweat, raising his chest to your nails, whimpering, punish me, punish me, punish me, and you muttered plainly with a sharp edge, you talk too much, your grip tightening again, pressing onto the sides of his neck, cutting off the blood flow, and Jungkook moaned gratefully, eyelids fluttering, the slap of your hips to his louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, rattling his bedframe, fucking him so hard he was slowly sliding up to his headboard.
Your name fell from his lips in pure ecstasy, back arching to shove his whole length fully into you, thick and hard and twitching with need, your slick walls clamping down on him, fitting to him with a hiss. He began to match you, breathless, lightheaded, world hazy, moaning from deep in his chest, I love you, and your reply was only tightening your grip, your hand and your pussy, harder, harder, harder.
“Aren’t you such a good guy?” you scoffed sarcastically, letting up for only a second to let him reply, blood rocketing back into his brain, flooding him with oxygen, and Jungkook sucked in a lungful of air, reeling.
“N-No…” he panted. “You’re the good girl… you’re always s-so… so good to me…”
His eyes locked with yours hazy with lust and love. You almost looked away out of instinct.
“You a-always remember… what I like…” he managed to choke out.
-
You left him when you were done using him.
You pretended he didn’t say those words to you. There was no point in acknowledging the nonsense that he said in the middle of being choked and barely functioning. You tapped your pencil against your textbook.
You caught yourself thinking about him.
Jeon Jungkook.
Your eyes flickered to the clock. Late at night on a Friday. He was probably at a bar. You watched the second hand of your plain silver clock tick, tick away. You never asked to watch him and his band perform even though Jungkook always made it a point to text you the address and the time.
It was obvious Jungkook didn’t want you to be his secret.
He wasn’t really your secret either. You just saw no benefit to letting anyone know there was a connection between you and Jeon Jungkook. After all, you were just using him.
You stopped tapping your pencil.
Stared at the second hand.
Tick.
Heard the voices of the rumors poisoning you, saying the things they said.
She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s a nerd.
The only reason she has good grades is because she fucked that one professor.
I heard she dated him.
I mean, there’s a reason he left in the middle of the semester, right?
He had a wife!
Snap.
Your eyes flickered down.
The tip of your pencil lead rolled across the page, leaving tiny pinpricks of granite.
There was never any evidence because nothing happened. Nothing happened between you and said psychology professor. He left in the middle of the semester because his wife had a miscarriage and he wanted to be with her. It had nothing to do with you. You had long discussions with him about life and existentialism, hanging out during his office hours.
Sometimes, you felt bad.
Had you kept him from his wife? Would it have not happened if he just skipped his office hours and didn’t spend them talking to you? These were irrational, foolish thoughts. They made you guilty even when there was nothing to be guilty about.
He was a nice guy, mid-thirties. Everyone liked this professor.
They blamed you because they didn’t know.
Only you knew, because he told you with tears in his eyes and thanked you for being his student.
You didn’t tell anyone, because he did not owe you an explanation and you were not going to divulge someone’s personal business that they had shared with you in confidence. You watched your reputation crumble and fall apart, watched friends ostracize you, because you didn’t tell them anything and they didn’t believe you. You watched yourself turn bitter and hateful.
Just tell the truth.
There was no truth to be told.
You put your pencil down.
Closed your eyes.
Remembered Jungkook’s face.
-
Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. His hot breath was in your face, arms shaking as he held himself up, fucking you into his mattress with whines in his chest, begging you, begging you, begging you.
“P-Please… let me cum, please…”
You liked to watch the sweat clinging to his high cheekbones and neck, jaw glistening with tension, feeling his strong body between your legs, his twitching hardness sliding into you repeatedly in rough, hard smacks, squeezing him every time he was fully sheathed inside you, vibrations coursing through you every time he came down.
“Not until I’m done,” you growled and he whimpered, pleading look in those brown doe eyes, black pupils expanded, unable to cum because a vibrating cock ring was restricting his orgasm, keeping him hard but unable to climax, sending thundering pleasure through him and into you. He watched helplessly as you gripped his hair, hissing sharply as another wave of pleasure overtook you, closing your eyes to savor it, savor his swollen cock twitching inside you as he felt the intense massage of your pussy walls closing around him, throbbing around the head and driving him insane, moaning pathetically because he couldn’t follow suit no matter how desperate he was.
Jungkook didn’t ask if you were done.
He just kept going because you told him he couldn’t cum until you were done.
And you didn’t say you were done.
You stared into those brown orbs, hazy with lust and full of conviction to be good for you.
Desperate to be the best and the only one, not knowing there was no one else because no one else wanted you like the way Jeon Jungkook wanted you.
“Pull out.”
“B-But…”
“You heard me,” you exhaled, throbs of pleasure still trembling through you. Your hands slid down, cupping his chin, nails digging into his sweaty cheeks. “Obey.”
With a pained whine, Jungkook obeyed, pulling out of you, his cock covered in your juices, wearing a condom and the black cock ring. You reached over with one hand to press the button on the remote to turn in off.
“Take it all off. Let me see your cock.”
He reached down and slowly pulled the cock ring off, taking the condom with it, whimpering at the sensitivity, his tone hitting a lovely pitched groan as the silicone squeezed the base of the head. His whole body was shaking as it fell from his hands, the veins on his length standing out, head purple-red and angry, white pre-cum slowly beading at the tip, and his face, looking down at you, waiting for your next move.
Cock waiting to be used.
You tapped your chest.
“Cum on my tits.”
“B-But–”
You cut him off.
“You’re going to cum on my tits and then you’re going to lick it off while I watch.”
-
He listened.
Jungkook straddled your waist with his thighs, muscular and defined, right hand wrapping around his cock, sweat making the tattoos on his forearm and shoulder glow in the low light, smelling like sex and musk, his core tightening as he touched his overstimulated length, using the lube of the condom and his own pre-cum to add to the pleasure as he began to stroke himself, moaning as you lifted your hands and cupped your breasts, pushing them together, his eyes on the curve of your cleavage and points of your hard nipples sticking out, and then your face, an indifferent look with a cocked eyebrow, taunting him, unimpressed by his timid grip on his cock, so he squeezed harder, tighter, embarrassing cries falling from his mouth, living for the smirk that slowly began to form on your lips.
It empowered him somehow, that smirk, the little inkling of satisfaction that Jungkook wanted, needed, craved, knowing he was doing well, being good, furiously pumping his aching cock over your pressed-together tits and he couldn’t last, couldn’t help it, too overstimulated and too turned on, too in love with this to prevent himself from tipping over with a hot gasp, spilling streams of sticky white lines over your breasts, spreading them everywhere, making a huge mess because he wanted a huge mess to clean up, shoving the head into your cleavage and shuddering at the sensation of warmth to his scorching heat, able to feel the pulse of the engorged tip dripping out what was left, shivers up and down his spine, the words falling from his mouth that he never stopped saying even though you never acknowledged them.
“I... l-love you…”
He stayed like that for nearly a full minute, but you didn’t tell him to get off.
His eyes were closed, savoring the feeling.
Slowly, Jungkook gingerly removed himself, lowering his body over yours, tongue sliding out, touching your skin covered in his cum, his taste, mine, no one else’s, him on you, lapping it up, salty and bitter and yet he loved it, loved that you told him to do it, loved that you let him paint your skin with his orgasm and now his saliva. He didn’t care that you never said anything to his I love you, didn’t care that you seemed to pretend he never said it, because he would continue saying it when he was with you, hopeless as it was.
It was the small things that kept him going, sucking his own cum off your nipple and wrapping his lips around it, hearing your soft sigh of pleasure, feeling the tap on his thigh that instructed him to scoot up, the small thing of your hand closing in on his spent cock, sending sparks of pain but also pleasure, moaning into your skin as you massaged his balls with your fingers, knowing that he could take more pressure and roughness because he had just came, the small thing of your thumb rubbing the sensitive slit, his face pressing into your breasts, smearing his cheek with his cum and saliva, sliding across your slick skin because of the intensity of the high it gave him, the pleasure and the pain, his right arm coming up to wrap around you, tattoos cradling your torso.
“I love you…” he whispered to your racing heart under his ear, lost in the rhythm of your heartbeat and the firmness of your touch. Jungkook did not care if you hated him saying it.
He would continue saying it as long as he was with you.
-
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing…?”
“Hmm.”
He placed his hand over the bottom of his phone and smiled at the cute girl that was talking to him at the bar.
“Sorry. I have to take this call. It’s important to me.”
He didn’t hear her response, because he backed away, bowing lightly, pressing his phone back to his ear.
“Ah, never mind, Jungkook.”
“No, no. What is it? Tell me.”
“You’re at a noisy place. It’s Saturday night.”
Jungkook pushed through the people, mumbling his apologies and straining to hear your voice over the thundering bass. “I finished. Well, we finished. We’re only drinking. I can leave at any time. I’ll just text the guys to bring my equipment back for me. Where are you?”
“Forget it.”
He opened the door of the club as the dial tone rang in his ear.
Looked up.
Your hand dropped to your side. You were still in your white dress shirt and navy skirt, dressed exactly like you were when at school minus the blazer. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was in a torn-up long-sleeve shirt with the right sleeve removed, showing off his tattoos. His black hair was wild and half-wet, and he was wearing tight leather pants.
You clicked your tongue.
“I said forget it,” you repeated hollowly.
You sighed and turned around, skirt swishing in your wake.
“Wait, I’ll come with you–”
“Go back to where you belong, Jungkook.”
His hand closed around your forearm, holding tight.
“I belong with you.”
You stopped walking, silent.
“What is it? Tell me.”
You scowled. “It’s dumb.”
“So am I, remember?” he chuckled, his hand slipping down, squeezing yours. “I’m not very good at school.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment. Cars and people brushed past, but Jungkook was focused onto on your stillness, watching your eyes seemed to be thinking about many things. You hadn’t pulled your hand out of his yet. By now, Jungkook knew that if you didn’t want something, you wouldn’t be shy about telling him right away.
You started walking again. Jungkook was still holding your hand.
“It was just a moment of weakness,” you mumbled under your breath.
“A guy…?”
You didn’t answer.
Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured tightly. “I understand.”
He did not. He wanted to cry.
Your eyes shot to him, pinning him in place. “You don’t understand, Jeon Jungkook. You understand nothing.” You pulled your hand out of his and Jungkook let go, trying to hold his pain, trying not to breathe because he was preparing himself for the inevitable, the moment you were going to break his heart and, if it was right here and right now, then so be it, because he had said how he felt repeatedly and there was nothing more he could do than that.
He loved you so, so bad.
Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, that it was madness, but he did anyway.
But you surprised him.
Your sharp gaze softened.
“You know what they say about me. You have to know,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You must know the rumors.”
Good girl gone bad.
Jungkook frowned. “About you and the professor?”
He watched your jaw clench.
“Does it matter?” he asked.
Your eyes shifted, not quite looking at him.
“Whether something did or didn’t happen, what does that have to do with me?”
And now you looked at him, guarded, not letting him know your thoughts.
“You…” He swallowed, trying to press the lump down in his throat. “You’re just using me, right? It doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, because in the end I don’t matter to you anyway… right?”
He did not want to cry and yet he did, because he knew he loved you. It was the small things, the way you never let up on him even in class, the way you picked days that were never the weekend and never before exams, the way you would brush your fingertips on his knuckles before leaving when you thought he was asleep, the way on the last time, the last time you were together, that you pressed your lips to his forehead when you thought he was asleep, running your fingers through his hair.
Jungkook was standing outside this bar and there were people he knew walking past, seeing you and him, but he kept his eyes on you, because the only one that mattered was you.
The one he belonged to was you.
He had decided that when he climbed onto the table that day.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a heavy breath. “If people say things about you, then they say things about you. Whether it’s the truth or not doesn’t change the fact I love you. It doesn’t make me love you less,” Jungkook said, speaking at his usual volume, because there was no reason to whisper the truth. “Even if it’s pointless and crazy, I want to be with you until the day you don’t want to be with me.”
His smiled and blinked back tears.
“Even if that day is today, I will never regret it.”
In this cruel summer, you could have ruined his reputation. You could have told everyone the kind of person he really was and you didn’t. You could have spread embarrassing stories of the things you made him do and you didn’t.
Even if he didn’t matter to you, Jungkook was confident that you weren’t a malicious person.
You rubbed your forehead. “The rumors will come to you.”
Jungkook laughed. “So what? I heard a rumor that I removed two ribs so I could suck my own dick. I admit, I considered doing it after hearing that.”
You scowled, but Jungkook only smiled in return. He could see the tension falling from your face with his comment. You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, as if to say, can’t be helped.
“There’s no other guy,” you muttered. “There’s just you and you’re dumb.”
Jungkook blinked rapidly, confused.
“You say it over and over and make me think about it all the time.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not a good girl. People pushed me away and I stayed there instead of trying to repair the burned bridges. I don’t even think I want to repair them. Who knows what will happen next? I don’t think it would be a good idea to put you through that shit.”
You sucked on the inside of your cheek, looking at him apologetically.
“You’re not the bad boy everyone says you are. You’re a good guy. You should find a good girl.”
Is that what you think? Jungkook chuckled, taking out his hand and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.
“I don’t want a good girl.”
He stepped toward you, lowering his hand and his head so that he was eye level with you.
“I love a bad bitch who can push me around and makes me their toy.”
He tilted his head, small curve on those beautiful lips, tiny mole underneath appearing with every smile.
“Which can only be you, you know.”
Jungkook didn’t try to kiss you. He only wanted to look into your eyes so you knew his conviction.
“I love you.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I’ve heard you say it.”
He nodded. “And I’m going to keep saying it until the day you leave me.”
Silence.
Ah.
Your eyebrow lowered and you gave him an indifferent look.
“Hm. I wonder when that will be, Jungkook.”
You leaned in, but before you kissed him, he heard the whisper against his lips, felt the shape of yours as they brushed against his, words he prepared himself to never hear from you, words that he thought you would never say, and that was fine with him, because you showed it, and that was enough.
He thought.
“I love you.”
And then your lips on his and his tears fell onto your cheeks because Jungkook wanted to cry all this time and he could not stop now, knowing that he was so, so in love with you and you finally, finally said it back to him.
--
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skzsauce01 · 3 years
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Angel Sent From Up Above
Anniversary Request Special
Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.
Warning: violence
Word Count: 8.3k
Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin
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“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”
“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”
“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”
Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”
“I'm not going to get expelled.”
Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”
“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."
Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”
He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.
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Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.
Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.
“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”
From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”
Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.
“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”
Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.
“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”
Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.
“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.
Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.
“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”
Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.
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“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”
The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”
“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."
“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.
“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”
Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.
“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”
“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”
“... I trust you.”
“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”
The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.
You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.
Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.
Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.
“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”
He immediately regrets his decision.
“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.
When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.  
You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.
“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.
He needs to see Jeongin.
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It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.
“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.
“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”
“I’m fine, don’t worry.”
“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”
“Yeah, see you.”
You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”
“I’ll try!”
Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.
After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.
It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.
Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.
“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.
Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.
“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”
“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”
Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”
Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”
“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”
“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”
“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”
You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.
“Okay, what is this really about?”
“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”
You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”
“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”
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Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.
“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”
Silence.
“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”
Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.
“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”
Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.
Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.
Jisung.
Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.
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Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.
“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”
Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.
You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”
To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”
While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”
He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”
“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”
Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.
You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”
“Okay.”
You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.
“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”
“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”
Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”
“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”
“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”
“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. “Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”
The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.
“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.
“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”
“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”
“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”
“You can kiss it to feel better.”
You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”
“Yeah, hurts a lot.”
You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.
“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”
Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.
Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.
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In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.
“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”
“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”
“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”
“Jeongin broke up with her.”
“What.”
Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.
“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”
Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”
“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”
Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.
You truly don’t deserve this.
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“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”
Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”
“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”
Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.
Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.
You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.
Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.
“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”
“Oh.”
“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”
Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”
That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”
During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.
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Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.
In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.
Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.
By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”
“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.
“Yeah.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“Stay safe.”
After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”
He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.
“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”
“Fine, I’ll go.”
“Good.”
Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.
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“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.
“Okay.”
As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.
“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”
Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.
“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”
The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.
“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”
“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”
You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”
At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.
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“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.
“No, but—”
“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”
“I know but—”
“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”
The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.
“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.
Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.
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Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”
Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”
“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”
A lie, but Minho fell for it.
“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”
“Can’t you just ask him?”
Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”
“What’s the hard way then?”
“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”
Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.
“How do you do that?”
“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”
The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.
“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.
Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”
“We’re friends, aren’t we?”
Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.
“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”  
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“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.
To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”
“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”
Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”
For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”
“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”
That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.
“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”
“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”
“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”
Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”
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Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.
“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”
Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”
“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”
Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.
He wished he were human.
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Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.
He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.
Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.
“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.
He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”
“It’s going to hurt.”
“Then make it quick.”
Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.
“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.
“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”
When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”
“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.
“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”
“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”
When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.
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“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”
“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”
Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.
“I can get it for you,” you offered.
He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”
“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”
Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”
“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”
That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.
“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”
You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”
Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”
Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.
“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.
“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”
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Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.
What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?
“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”
Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”
You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”
“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”
“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”
“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”
You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.
He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—  
“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”
Jisung.
Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.
“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”
“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”
“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”
The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.
“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”
“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.
“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”
The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”
With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.
Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.
“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”
Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.
Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.
A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.
“Jisung.”
“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”
“When what happened?”
Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”
“What happened?”
“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”
It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”
“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”
“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”
“She would have never chosen you anyway.”
He never had a chance, did he?
~ ad.gray
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Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3
244 notes · View notes
winsmoke · 3 years
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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫
Doyoung cannot deny that he wants you - in whatever way he can have you.
⊹ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 8.3k ⊹ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 uncaring female y/n x lovestruck and eventual dom Doyoung  ⊹ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 college au, friends with benefits au, angst, smut ⊹ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 toxic relationship, swearing, kissing, protected riding, fem and male receiving oral sex, fem masturbation, humiliation, spitting, spanking, unprotected doggie position, unprotected missionary position, face fucking, choking ⊹ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 🦷 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 Written for the lovely @weishenkonbini. I cried writing the ending so hopefully it elicits similar emotions in you. ⊹ 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 request | disclaimer | masterlist
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 Doyoung can’t tell if he’s really in love with you.
 All Doyoung understands is that when he looks at you he doesn’t want to look away. When he’s warm underneath his comforter at night and the familiar ache throbs in his groin, it’s your face flashing across his closed eyelids. And when you speak and move, he doesn’t listen or watch, Doyoung memorizes and formulates theories from your words and actions. Theories that all lead back to the fantastic but unreasonable conclusion that you could return his feelings.
 That’s why Doyoung’s pulse is seething against his neck when he finds you, mid-knock, outside his dorm. His chest swells victoriously as if your occasional visit to his room signifies something much deeper.
 “Hey, what’s up?” you greet casually, already walking around Doyoung towards his bed.
 The skin around his lips crimps awkwardly as he tries to keep himself from grinning like a fool. “Nothing much,” he answers, struggling to match your tone.
 Sitting on his bed next to you, Doyoung tries not to breathe in your perfume too deeply. Lifting his laptop from his backpack, he places it into your open hands. Doyoung watches you type in his password, eyes carefully flitting over your body. He swallows thickly. “I like your outfit.”
 Glancing down at your jeans and black tee, you almost laugh. “Thanks,” you respond, your eyes briefly sweeping over his khakis and sweater. “You look rather dashing as well,” you compliment as your lips form an amused smile.
 “Thank you,” Doyoung mumbles, hoping his voice doesn't crack.
 The two of you begin watching yet another drama in Doyoung’s bed. A string of yellow lights dimly illuminate his blackened dorm room. They make your eyes glow in a way that makes Doyoung stare more than usual. He had hoped those lights would recreate the romantic ambiance that he so desperately seeks in those dramas. Although it would seem that he had chosen the wrong girl to fulfill his fantasies.
 You’re not sure why you came to his room. Frankly, you should be studying for your calculus exam tomorrow morning. But in your ascent up the stairs to your dorm, you felt a strange pull outside his door.
 Your shoulders and thighs casually pressing against Doyoung’s, you stare, not at the drama playing on his laptop, but at him. Doyoung has always been a little too pretty. A little too perfect. But even pretty boys have weaknesses and his will always be you.
 You are aware of how weak-kneed Doyoung is around you and up until now, you politely ignored it. But there’s a quiet cruelty in the boners you push into his lap. Because at the end of the day, Doyoung is deeply in love with you, and with this knowledge, you have no intentions of giving him a chance. But you also have no intentions of letting go of his attention.
 Perhaps you came to Doyoung’s room to give him what he wanted – well, a fraction of what he wanted. And before you can think it over, you blurt out a question.
 Engrossed in the scene on his laptop, Doyoung scarcely hears you ask something strange. Something… dirty.
 “C-come again?” The tremble in Doyoung’s lip curls down his warming neck, across his clenching torso, before sinking into the organ between his legs.
 “Hook. Up.” You emphasize the verb, voice as steady as your expression.
 An air vent is positioned over Doyoung’s pillow where your heads are laid. Its cool air is often the only thing that kept him from bursting into flames in your presence. But with a flip of his chest, hot blood rushes up the side of Doyoung’s neck, and red lines the curve of his ears.
 Hook up? With you?
 Sitting up, you push away his bedspread, and lift Doyoung’s laptop off his knees and onto his desk. Looking down at Doyoung still under his comforter, you watch as heavy exhales push past his opened lips. Doyoung presses his head further into the cushion of his pillow, feeling small under your darkened gaze.
 Chin. Laptop. Eyebrow. Lamp. Doyoung darts his eyes from your face to other objects on his desk. He searches for the other guy you had to be talking to because there was no possible way that you were addressing him. You couldn’t want to hook up with him, awkward-galore, lovesick Doyoung Kim, right?
 “You know what a hookup is, right?”
 Although you wear a smile, you hold back a grin. You enjoy the awkwardness you provoke in him. Revel in the control you have over him.
 Doyoung can’t meet your eyes. He focuses on the bridge of your nose and rubs the tightened muscles of his neck. “Of course, but does that mean…?”
 You lean into him, your chest pushing up against his. “Sex? Head?”
 “No, no.” Yanking his chin into his neck, a dark blush nestles into Doyoung’s cheeks as he shakes his head frantically. “Um, does it mean, uh, that you – you like me?”
 And at that moment, Doyoung places his heart in your greedy hands.
 Throwing your leg over his lap, you sit down on his thighs. Holding his burning cheeks between your palms, you feel his leg muscles flexing nervously through his khakis.
 “What do you think?” you whisper before leaning in to connect his lips with yours.
 Doyoung foolishly closes his eyes, unable to withstand the simple pleasure. Licking over his bottom lip, you barely bite your teeth down, finishing the motion by sucking over the warm flesh. Switching between his bottom and top lip, you gradually spread your saliva across his cupid bow and upper chin. Steadying yourself by gripping his shoulders, you tilt your head slightly and tangle your tongue with his.
 His lips are eager but gentle, letting you lead. You take neat breaths through your nose, sneaking exhales through your mouth while Doyoung pushes out heavy puffs of air from his nose that unceremoniously hit your face. Your muscles are relaxed as you rub your hands along the waistband of his boxers. His joints are rigid as he digs his nails into his comforter. Irritation building in your folds and wetness dripping onto your thong, you grind yourself over Doyoung’s boner, relishing in his innocence.
 You tug your shirt up your stomach and pull your arms out of the sleeves. “Take off your clothes,” you demand a stunned Doyoung. The saliva surrounding his mouth reminds you of his purity so you climb off his bed to flick the light switch. You know the virtuous can’t fuck with the lights on.
 Doyoung’s arms are heavy and fuzzy as he unzips his pants and pushes them down his legs. As he fumbles with his shirt, he slowly begins to make out your shape in his blackened room. When Doyoung’s eyes come into focus, they follow your hands unbuttoning your pants and peeling them off.
 Now in your bra and panties, a square blue condom in hand, you pause to look at Doyoung. “Do you want to undress me?”
 You already know the answer but wait for his shy nod. You turn around so he can take off your bra. His fingers wobble while he unhinges the clasps, a rush of satisfaction barreling down to his cock. Making out the imprinted lines on your back and chest from the bra’s pressure, he traces them lightly with curious fingers.
 Doyoung nearly moans in delight when you guide his hands to your hip bones, where the straps of your thong sit, waiting to be stripped. When he drags your underwear down your thighs, he admires the slight flex of your stomach when you raise your hips.
 Doyoung is too hard to think properly as you lift his shirt from his shoulders and lick down his chest to his waistband. His legs squirm and he fists his comforter to fend off the need to palm himself.
 When you yank down his boxers, his tip is leaking for you. Bending your head down, you lick up the precum before sucking harshly on the tip.
 “Oh fuck,” Doyoung groans, his head whipping back into his pillow.
 Tearing open the condom packet, you smooth the latex down his hardened skin and climb over his body. He stares at your nipples peeking up under the air vent, licking his lips in anticipation.
 His hands tremble on your back when you slide his tip into your entrance. Doyoung fights to keep his eyes open and the desperation in his gaze adds to the wetness between your legs.
 Sinking half of his cock inside you, you fold your knees alongside his thighs and begin rolling your hips. Doyoung swallows the moisture on his tongue while he watches your pussy stretch for him. Eventually, his whole dick is lost inside you and his eyes roll white. Doyoung’s moans and whines swelling your ego, you tilt your head back. Reaching behind so your back is tilted, you grip above Doyoung’s knees and bounce your hips, deeper and deeper.
 The thickness of his cock makes your thighs quiver and you find your moans getting caught in their journey up your throat. An intense fizzy feeling expands in your lower stomach as you raise your hips higher and sink lower with each stroke. Every time you sit up, Doyoung whines to be submerged in your wetness once again.
 Doyoung cannot stop licking his lips, eyes trained on you. Your head faces the ceiling, facial features loosened by the warmth sprouting from your core. He wishes you would meet his eyes.
 Stifling his sounds to hear your soft moans, they make Doyoung’s heart squeeze so violently he tugs his own hair to endure the pleasure. How Doyoung wishes he could tug at your hair. How he wishes he could make you moan louder.
 Doyoung’s gaze wanders from your lips to where your hips meet his. Your strokes are deep, your wetness making sloshing sounds when you firmly sink over his dick. Your nipples completely erect, Doyoung wonders if you’d like his teeth on them. Clit shiny from your leaking juices, Doyoung wonders if you’d like his fingers on your nub. There’s too much exposed skin that he wants to touch, skin he wants all over his. He wants to be so close to you that he can touch your soul. But these are only half-ripened thoughts. For now, this is enough.
 “...Doyoung?” you call again, panting slightly as you slow your hips. He seems to have slipped into a trance.
 “Y-yes? Ah, s-sorry,” Doyoung mumbles. He yanks his hair roughly to yank himself out of his subconscious. Turning his head to the side, he feels flustered that he got caught in his thoughts.
 You push the side of his chin so his eyes are back on you before starting your movements again. You make tight circles with your hips that draw out shudders down Doyoung’s chest. “I asked if it feels good?”
 “Yeah, r-really good,” Doyoung answers breathlessly, wishing he could make you this helpless.
 All he can do is try to hold in his cum and his low moans. Try not to look at the bounce of your breasts and the lines of sweat tracing your thighs and neck. Try not to hear the slap of your skin on his. Fuck, all he can do is his try but it’s never enough.
 Doyoung wants more but all of sudden he’s coming too soon. You’re getting off too soon. Dressing too soon. And then you’re gone without a word.
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 Doyoung wakes up clutching his stomach the next morning. There’s a weight of uncertainty against his navel. He’s not sure what to make of the previous night.
 What do you think? - your answer murmurs into his dreams. You fucked Doyoung as if you liked him. But you left him like you didn’t. But why would you have sex with someone you didn’t like? But why would you call it a hookup?
 Against his better judgment, Doyoung decides not to leave his bed to attend classes. He didn’t even get up to throw away the used condom. Clinging onto the hope that you will notice and acknowledge his absence, he stares at his phone until his eyes feel like they’re going to bleed. Doyoung knows he should be disgusted with himself but he can smell you faintly on his bed so he can’t leave. Nose buried in his comforter, Doyoung can’t stop reaching for his dick, trying to masturbate away his worries.
 About 20 hours into this self-solitude, Doyoung is about to give in to his hunger and thirst but then it comes. And it’s like his life finds purpose again.
 You didn’t text Doyoung directly. Actually, you didn’t text him at all. He received a message from Johnny to remind him about the Korean Culture Club event happening now. Although you aren’t taking the language, you usually attend the meetings to hang out with Doyoung and his classmates.
 Spilling out of bed, Doyoung practically dives over his mattress to settle the corners of his comforter. He bruises his shin while jumping in the bathtub and scrubs his sweat-ridden body until his skin feels raw. He even brushes his teeth in the shower to save time. Out of the shower, he doesn’t bother using a towel. Scrambling nakedly around his room, Doyoung sprays water across his carpet, slapping lotion onto his skin while opening drawers.
 Unable to match colors, he settles on a reliable all-black ensemble, and a fight ensues between the friction of his lotioned skin and his skinny jeans. Giving himself an approving one-over in the mirror, Doyoung spots his cologne bottle on his vanity and hurriedly douses himself. When scent-browsing several weeks ago, Doyoung purchased the most expensive cologne he could afford, hoping it would magically make you attracted to him. Your perfume certainly made him shiver when he got too close.
 Jamming his naked feet into black Chelsea boots, Doyoung ignores the slight discomfort of his bare pads against the leather sole. Keys and wallet in hand, he yanks open his door handle and shamelessly sprints across the dorm hallway. Dashing down the stairs, handrail forgotten, he takes three stairs at a time and shoves open the exit of the residence hall. A cool breeze greeting him, Doyoung swears he can smell your perfume as he runs. Strides unnaturally long, a sharp pain develops in his shins as he pounds into the pavement.
 “Fucking hell,” Doyoung groans. He digs his thumb between his ribs, trying to comfort his burning lungs as he sails past the chemistry department.
 As sweat collects against his neck and between his armpits, Doyoung realizes he forgot to apply deodorant. He almost turns back but the building where the event is being held is in sight. The lights glowing from the building’s windows seem to blink alluringly so Doyoung pushes forward.
 Doyoung needs to see you. He deserves an explanation. He deserves… well, he hasn’t figured out what else he deserves but he can’t think straight.
 Then there you are.
 With a thick brush in hand, you diligently copy down Korean calligraphy with the rest of the club attendees. An untouched plate of ssam in front of your paper, you seem to be the only student who didn’t come for the free food. Doyoung always finds you to be achingly beautiful but there is a simple beauty in the way you concentrate. He likes the serious expression that comes to your face. He likes you smiling even more.
 Sensing someone’s eyes, you look up with an automatic smile. Doyoung feels his heart flip between his ribs as you tuck the smile away.
 “Back already?” you ask boldly.
 Your eyes wandering over his heaving shoulders, you smell hints of sweat through his heavy cologne.
 Cute. You try not to look too pleased.
 “I’m here for the club meeting,” Doyoung lies sheepishly.
 You tap your phone screen for the time and then look up. “What– out of breath and forty-five minutes late?”
 A flush hides under his turtleneck as Doyoung realizes how desperate he looks. It was you that had left and yet it was him that had run back to your side.
 Ignoring your comment, Doyoung gulps down his pants and sits down at the desk next to you. Expression guarded, you return to your task. After an uncomfortable minute of Doyoung staring at you, you push your plate forward. Doyoung gratefully accepts the food and wolfs down the leafy wraps. You secretly watch with a knowing smile.
 Unsheathing chopsticks from their packet, you break the sticks apart and offer them to Doyoung. In mid-bite, he covers his bulging cheeks before accepting them with a thankful nod. Doyoung is about to compliment your hangul but Johnny approaches you with a strange smile. And even worse, you return his smile in a way that makes Doyoung’s heart falter.
 Johnny stoops down so his cheek is next to yours. “Need any help?”
 “Sure,” you reply as Doyoung’s expression crumbles next to you.
 Doyoung’s eyebrows crinkle bitterly as he watches this encounter. He finds Johnny’s voice to be deceptively gentle as he directs your hand across the paper. The sight is maddening - your hands being guided by another. Especially now that the image of your hands taking off his clothes and brushing against his skin has been burned into his mind.
 A small part of Doyoung knows he doesn’t have a right to want you in the relentless way he does. But his attention to you gives him a thin window into your brain: How you want the indifferent world to notice your magnificence and without fail, he always does. What Doyoung can’t seem to understand is that you keep him around to inflate your, at times, faltering ego.
 After the club meeting, you follow Doyoung’s impatient strides back to his room. And yet, ever aware of you, Doyoung doesn’t miss how the wind flaps open your unbuttoned jacket. Maybe he wants an excuse to be closer to you. Or he wants to show you that no other guy will care for you the way he wants to. Whatever the reason, he abruptly stops in front of you to fix your coat.
 You crash your nose into his shoulder before your feet teeter backward. “What?” you ask irritatedly while flailing your arms to keep yourself balanced.
 Firmly grabbing your forearms, Doyoung steadies you on the sidewalk. He doesn’t meet your eyes as his fingers tug the slits of your coat over the black buttons.
 “Don’t want you to catch a cold.” His voice is low with tenderness.
 You cross your arms uncomfortably. “Thanks,” you mumble.
 Doyoung lowers his head, shielding a bashful smile. “No problem.”
 A peculiar feeling spreads in your stomach and makes your hair stand on end. Grabbing Doyoung’s wrist, you march with your blushing follower towards his dormitory. Disturbed by the shyness he evoked in you, you dig your nails into his skin. You should be used to his fond gestures by now.
 Back under the yellow lights, you crawl on Doyoug’s bed with him under you. Settling your body onto his, a knee on either side of his hips, you slip a hand behind his neck and bring his mouth to yours. Doyoung tastes like impatience as his tongue slips between your lips and smooths over yours.
 Gripping your waist over your coat, Doyoung wishes he could feel your skin on his. As if you hear his silent desire, you reach for the buttons on your chest. Your bare skin makes Doyoung’s hands falter as he shoves the turtleneck over his head. Taking off your bra, a small moan peels from Doyoung’s lips as he watches your breasts bounce from the cups. Transfixed, Doyoung’s hands refuse to part from your tits. Drifting the nail of his pointer fingers back and forth over your nipples, he hungrily watches you push your chest further into his hands. Slipping one of your nipples between his teeth, he sucks the skin until it's painfully hard.
 Dragging his lips away from your breast, you undo his jean button and jerk them down his thighs. Wiggling out of your pants, the two of you are both in your underwear. You straddle his hips, sighing gently when your center rests over his boner. You rub your hips roughly over his erection while Doyoung drags his tongue across your neck. He inhales your skin as if it’s the only thing he can smell.
 You’re closing your eyes, letting pleasure blindly guide your hips. Your skin is so warm and soft against his, Doyoung can’t help but moan softly in satisfaction.
 Then a thought ripples through Doyoung’s brain and his confidence falls to his feet.
 It feels the same as yesterday.
 Doyoung’s hands stutter the movement of your hips, trying to get your attention. Opening your eyes, your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.
 “Are–are we gonna fuck again?” Are you going to leave me again?
 Doyoung can almost feel you rolling your eyes.
 You motion down to your nearly naked bodies. “What do you think?”
 Before Doyoung can consider your answer, you’re making him moan, tucking a hand into his boxers. Smoothing your fingers down his soft pubic hair, you grip his erect shaft.
 “Wait,” Doyoung whimpers, grabbing hold of your wrist. “I want to make you feel good.”
 You shrug and gesture your hand up. As Doyoung slides to the edge of the bed so you can lie down, you wonder if Doyoung can please you. Last night was admittedly much better than you could have imagined - Doyoung was well endowed and it was clear that he was not a virgin. But his romantic desires for you make him slow and soft. And this is a hookup.
 You nod when Doyoung silently looks to you for permission to take off your underwear. His fingers are hot as he slides the material down your legs. You’re only slightly wet and Doyoung’s face doesn’t hide his disappointment.
 A steel-like determination furrows his brow as Doyoung gets on his knees, propping himself up on his forearms. He wants you dripping, screaming, trembling, sweating, melting for him. Lowering his head between your thighs, his eyes remain on your face, resolving to not take his eyes off of it.
 Doyoung grasps your thighs with a strength you didn’t know he possessed. Starting at the hood of your clit, he repeatedly strokes up and down with his tongue. Waiting for your hips to twitch, Doyoung’s movements begin softly, only using the tip of his tongue. When Doyoung strains his eyes up, he watches you fist the sides of the pillow and moan loudly. Quickening his pace, his licks become longer and thicker. You twist your shoulders, trying to defy the pleasure curling and twisting in your stomach.
 When your back raises, Doyoung immediately pushes you back down. His hands slam against your ribs before roughly kneading your breasts. Rubbing his thumbs across your nipples until they’re unbearably hard, he returns his hands back to your thighs to spread them a little wider. The wet and warm friction of his tongue makes your clit throb. He’s careful to lick up the steady wetness leaking from your cunt. Tightening his hold on your thighs, Doyoung moves his tongue further inside.
 “Shit, Doyoung,” you moan as he traces shapes and letters into your center.
 Doyoung’s nails sink into your inner thighs at the sound of his name. You barely register the slight pain as he thickly licks up and down the length of your entrance, opening your folds wider. Doyoung swallows what stays on his tongue. He rubs his nose against your clit as he moans into your pussy.
 Your face screwing up, mouth open in a silent scream, Doyoung’s length hardens even more. Doyoung absentmindedly begins humping his erection against his comforter as he pumps his tongue in and out of your swollen folds. Watching you stifle your swearing and moans, Doyoung thrusts his tongue faster.
 Fuck, he wants you to say his name again. He can’t understand you’re trying to stay quiet - he’s eating you out so desperately for your words and noises. He doesn’t know why you clench the sheets and not his hair. Doyoung wants to make you come and he knows he can. But you won’t give him that satisfaction.
 And before he can stop you, your hands forcefully bring his sweaty forehead up. You shove him into your place on the bed and yank his boxers down his legs and off his feet. Doyoung pushes away your head but you slap his hands away.
 “Wait– oh god,” he moans.
 Bringing the soft head of his dick briefly between your lips, you rub your thighs together before licking up the underside of his length. Your tongue traces the ridges and veins, finding a pulse in the pink muscle. Slowly coating the sides of his throbbing cock with your spit, white precum begins dribbling from the head. Doyoung tries settling his fingers into your hair but you stop your motions to scowl up at him.
 “I-I can’t touch…?”
 “No.”
 His desperation for your mouth overtakes his desire for control. Doyoung hesitantly retracts his hands and grips onto his own hair. Wrapping your lips around your teeth, your mouth falls roughly over his dick.
 Steading his pulsing length in your hand, you extend your jaw painfully wide and push half of his length between your lips. Slowly pumping his cock further down your mouth, your legs tremble slightly remembering how it felt between your thighs last night. Letting your slobber drip down his thickness, you jerk your wrist up and down his slippery base.
 Bringing his tip to the wet flesh of your inner cheek, you take a few seconds to ease the tension between your thighs. As you softly moan into his cock, Doyoung’s stomach spasms from the slight vibration of your mouth.
 “Good?” you sputter, coming up for a brief breath.
 His hands stiffly knitted in the hair at the back of his head, Doyoung nods frantically. “So good and wet.”
 Growing accustomed to the shallow breathing and the stretch in your facial skin, you sink your mouth a bit further. You occasionally rub the head of his dick against the back of your throat. Doyoung’s knees curl up slightly every time his tip hits your uvula.
 He’s embarrassingly loud when he comes, his hips uncontrollably thrusting well after his climax. As you lift your mouth off of his cock, Doyoung reaches for your hands, pulling you up, and laying your body on top of his. Pressing a kiss on your cheek, he wraps his sweaty arms around your shoulders. Doyoung closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your bare chest against his.
 “That was amazing,” he mumbles into your neck.
 Heaving roughly, Doyoung finds your eyes and offers you a sweet smile.
 You break away. Pawing around the ruffled comforter, you search for your bra and panties.
 It doesn’t matter that you didn’t get to come, you need to leave. Shifting your shirt over your neck and hoisting your underwear up your knees, you shove on your shoes. Scooping your bra and pants from the floor, you make a break for the door.
 Your conscience is screaming at you to run.
 “Don’t go,” Doyoung begs quietly.
 Opening his door, you listen to it.
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 It’s as if you can sense when Doyoung wants you.
 It takes him a few days to cradle his wounded pride. You had left again, without so much as a goodbye or mere acknowledgment of his existence. But seeing you in class, always charming and unaffected, Doyoung cannot deny that he still wants you - in whatever way he can have you. So five days later, Doyoung is miserably horny and lets you in for a third time.
 This time, you fuck him for hours and Doyoung thinks he sees it - something in your tired expression that means you like him back. Showering with him, you let him massage soapy circles between your shoulder blades. He’s so happy he can’t speak, singing you to sleep with a dopey smile. Doyoung dreams of your voice but you’re gone before he wakes.
 Doyoung starts hating himself the next time you’re at his door. Detecting his anger, you fuck him quickly and leave, barely dressed and dignity barely intact. Devastated, he watches dramas until he’s sobbing. Sobbing until he’s sleeping.
 You go on a reflective midnight walk around campus to sort out your emotions. It smells like dirty rain, like the water has been filtered through leaves before descending to the earth. There’s no moon but the sky hasn't faded black yet. You don’t encounter a single person or sound on your walk. There’s an eerie comfort in the silence and solitude.
 Strangely, you still feel as though Doyoung is following you. Perhaps your regret stalks you.
 You realize, the first day you hooked up with him, you thought it would be fun to play with Doyoung’s feelings. Fun to play around with his body.
 When you arrive back at your dormitory, you cautiously press your ear to Doyoung’s door. You aren’t sure what you want to hear. When he sang to you, it was like he had soothed your soul to sleep. But you aren’t expecting to hear Doyoung choking on his tears.
 Jerking your head away from the door, you flee up the stairs to your dorm.
 What have I done?
 It isn’t fun anymore.
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 Striking his knuckles softly against your door, Doyoung rests his forehead against the wood while he waits. The mixture of your natural scent and perfume has long faded from his bed and he misses it. Craves it. He doesn’t want your body, he wants you. Why can’t you understand that?
 Turning your doorknob, you take a startled step backward. “Doyoung.”
 It has been two weeks since your last encounter. You never expected him to seek you out.
 “I’ve - I’ve missed you,” Doyoung confesses.
 His eyes search your face for a trace of affection. But you stomped it below your feet on your walk to the door.
 “That’s unfortunate,” you mutter, looking at your bare feet.
 “Look,” Doyoung protests, reaching for your arm. He sounds like he’s apologizing. “Can we talk?”
 “We can fuck,” you offer blankly.
 Doyoung’s hand drops to his side, a sour taste in his mouth making him fold his lips into his teeth. “Is there… is there something wrong with me?”
 “No.” Honesty pushes the reassurance out of your mouth before you can think.
 “Then - then, why won’t you–”
 “Because I don’t want to,” you snap.
 A scowl creases Doyoung’s brow and he steps closer to you. “Why can’t you just admit that I’m good for you!” His brows raise in surprise as he realizes what he said. “I - I mean, I’ll be good to you,” he corrects slowly. “I’ll do whatever you want,” he adds desperately.
 “Then fuck me,” you say impatiently, a merciless glare keeping you from faltering.
 A feverish warmth circles up Doyoung’s neck. You’ve demanded his everything. Demanded his body and sanity. But you offer an extreme thrill and sense of belonging that Doyoung can’t feel with anyone else. And he knows you feel it too.
 Toeing forward, his audible breaths fan your face. “Fuck you,” he spits.
 You take a tentative step back. “If you won’t fuck me, I’ll find someone that will.”
 Grabbing your wrist, Doyoung pulls you into his chest. “No. No one gets you but me.”
 “Then fuck me…fuck me like you hate me.” You lower your eyes before adding quietly, “I know you do.”
 You’re not sure why you want to give Doyoung control. You’ve already decided this would be the last time. So why let him have his way now? Maybe you pity his love for you. Or you’re guiltier than you thought. Either way, you’re giving him access to your vulnerability. You’ve fed on his vulnerability for longer than you thought he could tolerate. You’ll let yourself be humbled for one night.
 Doyoung can’t respond. So enraged by your disinterest when he knows, well, at least thinks he knows otherwise. What is so revolting about him that makes you say no?
 Doyoung has been quiet throughout these hookups, rarely speaking unless spoken to. But tonight, he would make the demands. You’ve refused to talk and refused to listen but he has to get it out somehow.
 “Touch yourself,” Doyoung growls.
 “What?”
 You’re not pleased with his response. You never masturbate. If you become horny, you find someone to take care of the itch for you.
 “I’m not gonna touch you until you make yourself come, screaming my name.”
 “Fuck that, suck your own dick,” you sneer, jabbing his chest harshly.
 Doyoung grabs your outstretched hand and drags you towards your bed. “Where you gonna go?” he mocks, pushing your shoulders down onto the mattress. “Whose cock will stretch you out like mine does? Make you come like I do?”
 His nose brushes against your helix, velvety low in your ear. Licking down your neck, Doyoung grins meanly when you shiver. You can’t help but tilt your head back, giving Doyoung better access to your neck. Bringing your skin between his teeth, Doyoung sucks roughly and promptly strokes his tongue over the sore spot. His hands find the waistband of your sweatpants and underwear and drag them both down your legs. He intentionally scrapes his fingernails along your chest while rolling your shirt up your stomach.
 “No bra?” Doyoung mumbles to himself before reconnecting his lips to your neck.
 Your body betrays you as a gush of wetness meets Doyoung’s cold fingers. He slowly drags his pointer and middle fingers along the wet lips of your pussy. His touch makes you tremble slightly, blinking drowsily in the faint bliss.
 “Please Doyoung,” you whine.
 Doyoung wipes off his slimy fingers on your inner thighs and brings a hand to your face. Cupping your chin in his palm, he presses his fingers into your cheeks. Digging his fingers into your jaw until he feels bone, Doyoung turns your head towards his. Doyoung’s lips part to reveal a vague smile. He seems pleased with your face squished between his fingers.
 “Touch yourself,” Doyoung instructs.
 Touch starved, you dip two fingers between your aching folds. Twisting your fingers in desperate circles into your clit, your hips naturally rise. An amused hum buzzes between Doyoung’s lips as he watches you fight your lust. Gritting your teeth, you continue circling your fingers, sinking deeper until your knuckles are coated with your juices. You suppress your moans but Doyoung notices. He always does.
 Returning his hand to your face, Doyoung jerks your chin to meet his eyes. “I told you to–”
 “Fuck off, I hate this,” you snarl, halting your fingers.
 Doyoung lowers his head down to yours. At first, you think he’s going to kiss you and you raise your neck to welcome his lips.
 Instead, Doyoung spits on you.
 Your mouth parting in surprise, beads of his saliva dribble between your lips. You don’t dare swallow. 
 Doyoung raises his head to gaze down at your stunned face. “Don’t interrupt me.”
 You blink once, your eyes nearly circular when you reopen your lids. Doyoung’s expression is hardened when he lays his thumb onto your closed mouth. He presses down until he can feel your front teeth and smears the remaining spit onto your cheek. 
 “Touch yourself,” he orders softly. “And this time, I better hear my name.”
 Closing your eyes, you manage to hold in the humiliation as you lower your fingers once more. They meet no resistance when they enter your cunt.
 Why did that make me so wet? You don’t let yourself linger on the question too long as your fingers start to move.
 Curving your back, you stroke your walls the way Doyoung would. Giving in the need for relief, you close your eyes and whine loudly.
 “Watch yourself,” Doyoung demands.
 Your eyes snap open. “What? No way am I–”
 Grabbing your forearms, Doyoung tugs your body up your bed and props you against the pillows. Guiding your hand back to your center, his lips skim your ear. “Watch yourself.”
 Smoothing your tongue over your lips, you look down at your opened legs. Your fluids shine dimly on your inner thighs and open folds. Listening to Doyoung’s impatient breathing against your ear, you take a tiny inhale before resuming your movements.
 “Oh, so…so fucking g-good,” you stutter through unfinished pants.
 Using one hand to massage steady circles into your clit, you use the other to pump two fingers into your aching sex. The joints of your fingers tighten as tension in your navel builds. Tilting your head away from your swollen folds, you can’t handle how desperate your hands look as they chase your high.
 Doyoung’s hand returns to your chin, forcing your neck back down. “Say my name.”
 “Doyoung,” you groan instantly.
 A rush of heat gathers at your cheeks and neck as your pace quickens. Pearls of sweat dot your hot skin as your walls clench around your fingers. The need to be filled makes you add another finger but it’s not enough.
 Pushing your lips into his ear, you hope your whimpers will tempt him. “Doyoung, please.”
 Doyoung involuntary shudders, piercing his palm with his nails to restrain himself. “Please what?”
 Pleasure inflaming your walls, your lips shiver to shape the words. “Fuck me! I-I need your c-cock.”
 Doyoung sits up and splits your thighs further apart. He bows his head towards your entrance, tongue rolling at the sight of your relentless fingers. He barely notices how painfully hard his dick is. At this moment, eyeing your sex, all Doyoung wants is to drink your cum. “Come for me.”
 Your body listens as the tension bursts below your stomach. You let your eyes flutter closed, the orgasm too fierce for sight. “Doyoung,” you wail as your climax hits.
 The pleasure races down your spine and you flex your feet and ball your fists to contain it. Weakly heaving warm puffs of air, for a split second you’re allowed some relief.
 Doyoung’s tongue races up your trembling folds and presses past to lick inside. Your hands leaping to his hair, you try tearing him away from your sensitive center.
 “Wait, stop Doyoung,” you beg shrilly.
 Doyoung’s warm tongue licks harshly into your walls as he draws your cum into his mouth. Every brush inside your cunt elicits a flicker of pain and yet your hips follow his movements. Squeezing your eyelids, your arms quiver as your nails dig into his scalp. Although exhausted, your body continues yearning for his.
 Doyoung abruptly pulls away, nose wet with your pleasure. He stands on the side of your bed and takes his dick in his hand. You turn on your side towards him. You blink so sluggishly you feel every eyelash unstick. Looking up to meet his eyes, your gaze falls back down to his erection.
 Doyoung looks at you with irritation. Does he even need to ask? “Suck,” he grunts.
 You nearly buckle into a heap trying to lift yourself onto your hands and knees. Your arms feel like elastic as you crawl towards the edge of the bed. Collecting moisture in your mouth, you spit onto the reddened, precumming head. You lower your torso, mouth open but Doyoung, his dick still in hand, points it a few inches away from your destination.
 Snickering, Doyoung continues waving his cock back and forth. Your lips wide, drool building on your tongue, you foolishly chase the tip. 
 “Put it in your mouth,” he mocks.
 Still weary from your recent orgasm, you let your feet fall to the floor, knees pounding onto the wood seconds later. You lift yourself up slightly, finding balance against Doyoung’s knees. Twisting your neck awkwardly, your lips reach for something you hope to bring Doyoung to his knees.
 You carefully slip your mouth over his ball sack. Briefly fondling his swollen balls with your tongue, you begin sucking until saliva streams down your chin.
 “Shit!” Doyoung yelps, his knees wobbling in surprise.
 Gripping your shoulders, he pries your head away. You look up innocently as precum dribbles onto your forehead.
 Red flares up Doyoung's neck as he regains his composure. “Get on the bed.”
 Stretching your newly bruised knees to stand, you lift a leg over the mattress. Before the other leg can follow, Doyoung whips a hand down on one of your butt cheeks. When you snap your neck to look back at him, he glares at you. 
 “Faster.”
 You already know where he wants you.
 Getting on your hands and knees, you face away from him. Resting your forearms onto the mattress, your ass pushes up towards Doyoung’s cock. Grasping your hip with one hand, Doyoung uses the other to tease your shiny folds.
 You bury your groans into your comforter as he thumbs your slit. Your hips push against his hand and you clench wildly around anything. The pull for penetration makes your restraint melt. “Please fuck me,” you beg in a voice that doesn’t sound like your own.
 WHACK.
 Doyoung’s hand strikes the same spot as before. Your thighs shake as wetness continues to spill. “For that, I’ll wait another minute,” Doyoung mutters.
 Doyoung strokes his tip down your slit. You gasp, the weight of your head completely tumbling onto the mattress. He occasionally pushes the head of his duck against your entrance, parting the lips of your sex. But each time, you clench on air when he resumes brushing his tip up to your clit. Your arms lay dead by your side as you moan miserably.
 Eventually, the lure of your pretty pussy eats away at Doyoung’s discipline and when he’s ready, he doesn’t give you a warning.
 Thrusting his shaft inside you, you shriek, mind unable to distinguish discomfort from pleasure. A mere two weeks and your vagina can’t seem to remember that his dick is a familiar companion. Within a few powerful pumps, Doyoung has slipped further than your walls can extend. Your folds are stretching wide to accommodate his thick base. A scream scratches your throat each time he rams his hips against your ass.
 Doyoung’s hands clasp your hips, his nails stabbing crescent moons into your sweaty skin. Occasionally, his palm will smack against your butt cheek, sending a quick ripple through your skin and a ripple of satisfaction down his pelvis. And still… it's not enough.
 He wants you closer.
 Doyoung slowly steps backward and you both groan from the loss of friction. Falling flat onto your chest, the soreness between your legs spikes flashes of pain against your folds. Before you can check the damage, Doyoung scoops his arms below your knees and back and settles your head onto your pillow. His four limbs boxing your body, Doyoung lines himself up and mercilessly sinks his cock inside.
 “Doyoung,” you screech, your hands slamming against his chest.
 “Shit, say my name again,” Doyoung grunts.
 “Doyoung, Doyoung, Doyoung!” you chant obediently.
 Doyoung’s hands reach for your thighs, lifting your legs onto his back. Sliding his fingers in your hair and down to your scalp, Doyoung drops his chest onto yours. Slipping your arms around his neck, you’re wrapped suffocatingly around him.
 “Harder, fuck me harder,” you wail.
 Doyoung fucks you with an intense fury, pummeling your core so roughly the bed rattles against the wall. All you hear is the syrupy sound of his dick rubbing against your walls and his groans in your ear. There’s a prominent indent in the mattress where Doyoung presses himself deep inside your pussy. There’s a harsh burn in your scalp where Doyoung yanks at the roots of your hair and you return the pain by scraping violently into his back. Your mouth is permanently open, your jaw too tired to raise each time a scream rips out of you. Doyoung’s eyes refuse to leave yours but your vision is dazzled by the extreme fucking. His strokes are uneven but rapid - Doyoung doesn’t want to leave any part of your cunt untouched.
 Your body in overdrive, it begins to surrender to Doyoung’s efforts. The murderous friction between your legs is nudging you to your second orgasm. “I’m gonna c–”
 “No,” Doyoung hisses. “You don’t deserve it.”
 Doyoung rises from your embrace and traps your head with his knees, shoving his dick, slick with your juices, into your mouth. His fingers gripping your neck, you choke hard enough for the tip to hit the back of your throat. Your mouth and airways completely engorged, your jaw falls slack as Doyoung pumps his cock down your throat.
 Frantic breaths flare from your nose and tears begin creeping down your cheeks as your high slips away. The face-fucking and choking you can handle - it’s his unkind, almost cruel, gaze that inflicts the hurt. But you let him come on your face and swallow the bitter semen.
 A rare feeling of triumph trickles down Doyoung’s chest as he climbs off you. He greets your solemn expression with a confused tilt of his head. What did he do wrong?
 “Why...” You pause to bite down on your inner cheek. “You’ve never acted like this before,” you murmur.
 “Wasn’t I doing what you asked?” He looks hurt. “You said to fuck you like I hate you.”
 Like prey, his eyes flit over to the door. But not because he’s scared he can’t escape. Doyoung tries reassuring himself that this is your room, you can’t abandon him this time. But you’ve already shattered his heart four times. If a fifth time can’t convince him, nothing will.
 Teetering towards your wardrobe, you rip a coat from the hanger. Buttoning it to your neck, the hem is long enough to hide your nudity. Finding your key and phone, you open your door. For once, you look back at Doyoung.
 “I’m sorry for turning you into this.”
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 Doyoung’s door beckons you again. It doesn’t help that you have to pass it while you climb the stairwell. 
 You’re knocking…why? Not for yourself. Well, maybe. But not for your body. You’re knocking for him. His soft voice and long arms.
 You don’t have to wait long for the knob to turn. He was probably waiting for you. Waiting for your steady voice and warm arms. He’s looking at you so sadly. But why does he look scared too?
 The two of you silently walk to his bed and you fall onto his mattress, into him.
 “Can - can we stay like this?” you ask.
 Doyoung doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how to.
 Pushing your face into his chest, your arms embrace Doyoung on their own accord. His arms slide over your back as he tries to control his breathing. He checks your ears to make sure they aren’t laying on him - he doesn’t want you to hear his heart. He’s already exposed too much to you.
 Doyoung tries to curl his shirt up his torso but you catch his hand.
 “Not tonight,” you say firmly.
 Suddenly, you snatch your hand away, a sickening thought flashing across your brain. After all this time, did his perception of you change? After you had used Doyoung over and over again, had you become a body to use?
 “I just want to be closer to you,” Doyoung whispers but he leaves his shirt alone. He doesn’t want to fuck up again.
 The two of you stay in silence. You are too anxious to sleep. This might be the only opportunity to just lay in his arms. Doyoung hesitantly rubs his hands along your arms. It’s supposed to be comforting but it makes you nauseous. Doyoung doesn’t notice how you’re twitching under his fingers. He’s lost in thought. Fearing the worst.
 You’re also afraid. That you aren’t what Doyoung makes you out to be. You battle the disturbing thought that you could lose his eyes and gentle smile to another, more extraordinary girl. There is a quiet cruelty in the way you tease yourself that you are worthy of his love.
 “I should go,” you whisper after an unbearable hour.
 “So go. Just fucking go.”
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 Doyoung can’t find your scent anywhere. He’s dragging his nose in zigzag motions across his comforter looking. Perhaps he got too close to you? And your smell started mingling with his? But it doesn’t matter, he’s been to your room, he’s seen the perfume bottles. He could go buy it from the mall right now. But instead, he’s making his way to your room.
 Then Doyoung hesitates. How long has it been since you last visited his room? Time has been the least of his worries, everything passes by so strangely without you. Like there’s nothing before or after you. Just you.
 Doyoung’s feet are running before he can tell them to. He can’t bear the thought of you turning him away so he won’t go. Head down, Doyoung watches his feet disappear and reappear too quickly as he runs.
 He finds himself in his physics lecture hall. There’s an abandoned notebook that he’s opening, a nearly inkless pen he’s lifting.
 He has to get it out somehow. Has to tell you somehow.
Y/n,
What can I say to you to make you understand? So many thoughts and fears my pen may run dry. But please don’t tell me my time is up and my thoughts will end. I’ll run on empty trying to write this letter to you. I admit I am foolish for loving you. But please tell me you love me. Tell me you love me. I’ll do as you ask. I’ll do anything you ask. I can love you better, harder. Just give me the chance to.
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