#bad decisions headers

[haeiheart]

LEE DONGHYUCK | NOT A BIG DEAL

LEE DONGHYUCK

SUMMARY: You and Hyuck have always been inseparable. Best friends who stick together through every minor inconvenience, every 2 AM fast-food run, and especially every party. Their little deal? If they’re both single and drunk at a party, they make out for a good time and purely to avoid awkward hookups with strangers. No feelings, no complications. It’s a good deal no? But when a new guy, Jeno, enters y/n life just like that. They both feel that for the first time, their “not a big deal” deal feels like it might’ve always been something bigger.

GENRE: friends to lovers - kind of fwb hyuckyn - jealous avoidant hyuck! - sweet jeno - minimal angst - slight reader x jeno.

NOTES: first time releasing a full written fic… bye im scared pls be kind (◞‸◟；) also first time making a header? design?? hehehehe. I hope you guys enjoy this though, i personally enjoyed written it so i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed making it for you guys!! :3 THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD SO IM SORRY IF THERES ANY ERRORS >_<

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

BEFORE THE PARTY

You and Hyuck have always been inseparable. The best of friends. The kind who finish each other’s sentences, send texts at the exact same time, and know each other’s go-to orders at every café on campus. It’s always been easy with hyuck. You don’t overthink things with him.

That’s why your little pact made perfect sense.

“If we’re both single, and we’re both at a party, and we’re both drunk, we find each other.”

It wasn’t some deep, life changing agreement. It was just a way to keep each other from making bad decisions with strangers. A safety net, nothing more. It always worked. Every single time. It was the perfect deal after all, you both get the pleasure needed in a fun night out. No commitment, no feelings.

Until tonight. But let’s rewind back a couple of weeks.

The day you met Lee Jeno.

3 WEEKS AGO @NCU CAMPUS

College life has always been a blur of assignments, late-night food runs, and whatever chaos Hyuck drags you into. Between classes and parties, your days feel like a well-balanced mix of stress and fun. Thank goodness you had your best friend to keep you sane right?

You first met Jeno during an elective course, one of those random classes you picked to fill credits unfortunately. He was the kind of guy who didn’t talk much but somehow made every conversation feel important. You sat next to him out of convenience, and it wasn’t until the next few classes that you really spoke to him, which was currently right now.

“Do you always write your notes like that?” he had asked, glancing at your mess of shorthand scribbles and little doodles in the margins. You could tell he wanted to laugh at it.

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah?”

He grinned. “It’s interesting. You do know this is a literature class, right? Because your notes look more like a doodle coloring book for toddlers my baby brother's age rather than actual notes.”

You snorted. “Well, you look like you should be in an engineering class, not here.”

“I was forced to take a humanities elective,” he admitted. “But it’s not bad. I like the class.”

“Because of the material or because of me?” you teased, raising a brow.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

And just like that, Jeno slipped into your life.

The thing about him was that he never tried too hard, he didn’t force his presence, didn’t demand attention the way Hyuck did. He was just… there. Reliable. Easy to talk to. It was easy to get hooked on a guy like Jeno.

You started walking out of class together, grabbing coffee before your next lectures. You studied together, shared snacks, exchanged casual texts that eventually turned into daily check-ins. Somewhere along the way, you got comfortable with him. But it wasn’t until one particular afternoon that you noticed something else.

OPEN FIELD STUDY AREA @NCU CAMPUS

It was another dreadful afternoon, pilled with assignments you swore just appeared in front of your face. You and Jeno were sitting outside on campus, reviewing notes. Though half the time you guys were mostly making corny jokes and laughing at shared interests. That was until Hyuck showed up unannounced, like he always did, dropping himself onto the bench next to you with a dramatic sigh.

“What’s up, losers?” he greeted, snatching one of your fries before you could react, looking as happy as always to mess with your little head.

You rolled your eyes as a faint smile appears on your face. It’s been awhile since you saw him. “Hyuck, this is a study session. You know, where people focus?”

“Sounds lame,” he deadpanned, then turned to Jeno. “So, how do you put up with this one?”

Jeno smirked. “I think she puts up with me.”

Hyuck’s expression didn’t change, but you knew him well enough to catch the slight pause—the way his fingers drummed against his knee a little too fast, the way his jaw tightened for just a second. It was so quick that you almost missed it. Almost.

But then, as fast as it came, it was gone. Hyuck smirked, leaning back on his elbows. “Well, good luck, man. She’s a handful.” You smacked his arm, rolling your eyes again, but the feeling lingered. Hyuck only stuck around for a short while and you never questioned it, but the odd part was he was too quick to leave the setting as well. Feeling lost as he suddenly got up and fled the scene after saying his byes and ruffling your hair.

After that, things felt… different. Not drastically. Not in a way you could point to and say, this is where everything changed. But the subtle things. Like how Hyuck stopped crashing your study sessions with Jeno as often. How he’d make jokes about you “ditching” him but never say it outright. How he seemed to drink more at parties, getting reckless in a way that made you worry.

It wasn’t obvious, but it was there, buried beneath layers of laughter and banter. And maybe you noticed it too late.

@NEOCAFE - 127 DISTRICT

Hyuck doesn’t text first anymore.

That’s the first thing you notice.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, you’ve been busy anyway. School, assignments, late-night study sessions with Jeno. But the silence sits in your chest like a weight, pressing down heavier each day. You truly did miss your best friend, nobody else was as much of a dork loser like he was.

You still see him around. In class, at parties, in the spaces you used to share. But it’s different now.

No more texts that say where are you? when you take too long to respond. No more arms slung over your shoulder as he drags you out of the library for a “much-needed” break. No more late-night walks, just because neither of you wanted to go home yet. God you truly did miss lee donghyuck.

The worst part? You know it’s your fault. You were the one who stopped looking for him first. You were the one who let the space between you grow. And now, you don’t know how to close it.

Jeno Notices “You’ve been quiet lately.” Jeno’s voice is gentle, his eyes scanning your face as you stare blankly at your untouched coffee. It’s the third time he’s caught you zoning out in the past hour and he was getting worried.

You blink, forcing a small smile. “Just tired.”

He doesn’t buy it. You can tell by the way he tilts his head, studying you. “It’s about Hyuck, isn’t it?” The words hit you like a punch to the stomach. You exhale, looking away. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Jeno doesn’t say anything right away. He just nods, as if he already knew. And maybe he did. Maybe everyone did. You’ve spent so much time pretending things are fine that you almost forgot Jeno sees right through you.

So when he reaches out, fingers brushing over yours, you don’t pull away. Infact you allow yourself to get embraced by his comfort. Was Jeno’s comfort what you needed all this time?

@YOUR APARTMENT

The thing about Jeno is that he never rushes anything.

Not his words, not his movements, nothing. He lets things happen as they are, as if he trusts time to work things out on its own. Which is probably why being around him feels so easy, you always had a smile on your face when you were with him.

Like now, for example. You’re both sitting on the floor of your dorm, backs against the couch, a half-empty bag of chips between you. You’ve been talking for what feels like hours—about everything and nothing all at once.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jeno says, holding up a hand to stop you mid-story, his eyes already crinkling in amusement. “You mean to tell me you climbed a tree to save a cat, but then got stuck yourself?”

You groan, covering your face. “Okay, listen—”

“No, no, no, I need to process this.” He grins, resting his chin on his palm. “How long were you up there?”

“Like… twenty minutes?” you mumble, cheeks burning from embarrassment clearly…

Jeno loses it. He tilts his head back, laughing so hard his shoulders shake. You gotta admit that laugh of his does wonders to girls. He was a real catch. A once in a lifetime cutie, you should consider yourself lucky to have him around right?

You huff, crossing your arms. “Are you done?”

He wipes at his eyes, still chuckling. “Oh man. I- yeah. Yeah, I think I’m good.” He snickers again. “Twenty minutes. Amazing.”

You try to glare at him, but his laugh is infectious, and soon enough, you’re giggling too.

Jeno turns to look at you, a soft smile lingering on his lips. “Y’know, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk about yourself.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“I mean, you’re always talking about Hyuck or your friends, but I like hearing about you.” He leans against the couch, watching you. “Your dumb little childhood stories. Your love for cats. Your terrible decision-making skills.”

You snort, nudging his leg with your foot. “You’re such a menace.”

“And you love it.”

You shake your head, smiling. “I might.”

Jeno tilts his head, studying you for a second. His voice is quieter when he speaks again. “Are you okay?”

The question catches you off guard. You consider lying, but Jeno has always been good at seeing through people. So you exhale, looking down at your hands.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I just feel… lost.”

Jeno doesn’t say anything right away. He just shifts a little closer, his knee bumping against yours. You don’t realize how much you needed that until it happens.

“I get that,” he finally says. “Sometimes it feels like you’re walking through fog, and you don’t know where you’re going. But…” He nudges you lightly. “That doesn’t mean you’re alone.”

You look up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, warm and genuine. “I’m here.” You don’t know what possesses you to do it—maybe it’s the way his voice is so steady, so sure. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, like you’re important. But before you can overthink it, you lean in.

Jeno’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his lips quirk up in amusement.

“You’re not about to kiss me mid-existential crisis, are you?”

You let out a breathless laugh. “Shut up.”

But he’s still grinning when he finally closes the distance. The kiss is soft, almost hesitant at first. But then you feel him smile against your lips, and suddenly, it’s all laughter and warmth and the taste of leftover chips.

You break apart for air, and Jeno chuckles. “That was—”

You groan, covering your face. “Don’t say it.”

“— surprisingly nice for two people who just ate sour cream and onion chips.”

You swat at him, laughing. “You ruined it.”

He catches your wrist, grinning. “Nah. That made it better.”

You shake your head, still breathless, still here. Jeno doesn’t fail to make your day once again, as he leans in, continuing where you both had left off as if it was almost natural.

And for the first time in a while, you don’t feel so lost.

PRESENT TIME

And this is how your weeks have been spent. With Lee Jeno. Full of kisses, laughter, playfulness, and comfort. Jeno arrives with an armful of snacks, two sodas balanced precariously on top. “Alright, before we do anything, I have to ask…why do you have like, seven different cat towers in your apartment? Are they that spoiled?” as he takes in his surroundings once again.

You shut the door behind him and scoff. “Excuse you, my children deserve the best.”

Jeno grins, setting the snacks down. “How many do you have again?”

“Three.” You sigh dramatically. “But honestly, I think my oldest cat hates me.”

He snorts. “Why?”

“Because I accidentally stepped on her tail when she was a kitten, and she’s never forgiven me.” You flop onto the couch, pouting. “Now every time I call her, she looks at me like I owe her child support.” Jeno bursts out laughing, nearly knocking over the bag of chips. “That’s the most you thing I’ve ever heard.”

You nudge him with your foot. “Oh, shut up. You’ve definitely done worse.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Doubt it.”

“Oh really? What’s the dumbest injury you’ve ever had?”

He thinks for a moment before admitting, “I once tried to jump over my couch but tripped, hit my head on the armrest, and passed out.”

You gasp. “Wait—like, fully unconscious?”

“Yup.” He sighs. “Woke up two minutes later to my mom yelling at me for being stupid.”

You’re already laughing so hard your stomach hurts. “Okay, okay, once, when I was seven, I thought I could ride my bike down the biggest hill in my neighborhood with my eyes closed.”

Jeno’s eyes widen. “No. No.”

“Yes,” you wheeze. “Flew straight into a bush. My mom had to pull twigs out of my hair for an hour.”

He practically collapses against the couch, laughing until his shoulders shake. “You’re actually crazy as a kid.”

“Thank you,” you say proudly.

The laughter fades into a comfortable silence. Jeno leans back, staring at the ceiling. “You know, I never really asked—but what was Hyuck like when you were kids?”

You hesitate, but the memories come easily. “Chaotic. Loud. Got us into trouble, like, every other day. He would drag me into the most ridiculous situations and it wasn’t even my fault.”

Jeno smirks. “Sounds about right.”

You smile softly. “One time, we thought we could build a pillow fort. We barely even got the first pillow up before the entire thing collapsed and we both fell.”

He laughs. “Did you get hurt?”

“Surprisingly, no. But Hyuck cried for a full hour because he swore it was sabotage.”

Jeno shakes his head, amused. “He hasn’t changed at all, has he?”

“Nope.” You pick at a loose thread on your sleeve. “He’s always been… Hyuck.”

There’s a pause, but Jeno doesn’t push. He just watches you, waiting.

You clear your throat. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

He hums, tapping his chin. “Alright. You know how everyone thinks I’m all sporty and serious?”

“Yeah?”

“Well.” He leans in like he’s about to share a top-secret confession. “I used to write fanfiction.”

You choke on your drink. “No way.”

“Oh, it gets worse.” He sighs dramatically. “It was about superheroes.”

“What kind? Marvel? DC?”

“Neither. Completely original characters. I had a whole series.”

You clutch your stomach from laughing so hard. “Jeno. Are you telling me you were a self-insert superhero fanfic writer?”

He groans, covering his face. “Look, I was twelve—”

“NO, THIS IS AMAZING.” You grab his arm. “Did you give yourself powers? A tragic backstory?”

He peeks at you between his fingers. “…Both.”

You collapse into the couch, wheezing. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever learned about you.”

He grins. “Alright, your turn. What’s your cringiest secret?”

You pause, then admit, “Okay this might not be cringy… but i had a harry potter phase.”

Jeno gasps, clutching his chest. “What house were you in?”

“…Slytherin.”

He high-fives you. “Respect.”

The conversation keeps flowing, lighthearted and easy. You talk about everything, old childhood memories, embarrassing moments, ridiculous hypothetical scenarios (what would you do if you woke up as a worm?), and somehow, even the meaning of life.

It’s fun. It’s comfortable.

But beneath it all, there’s something bittersweet.

Because you both know this is goodbye.

Eventually, the night slows down. The laughter fades, leaving only the quiet hum of the TV in the background. You shift, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “Jeno…”

He already knows. You can see it in his expression.

Still, he lets you say it.

“I have to go find him,” you admit softly.

A beat of silence.

Then he smiles? He smiles. A small, knowing smile. “Yeah.”

You swallow hard. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.” His voice is gentle. “You never had to say it, y/n. I knew.”

Your throat tightens. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He reaches for your hand, squeezing it lightly. “But… can I ask for one last thing?”

You nod, already knowing what it is.

“One last kiss,” he murmurs.

So you kiss him.

It’s soft, lingering. A silent thank you. A quiet goodbye.

When you pull away, he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well. That was a solid 9/10.”

You snort. “Only 9?”

“Could’ve been a 10, but my foot fell asleep.”

You smack his arm, laughing. “Shut up.”

He grins. “Go. Before I change my mind and challenge Hyuck to a duel.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re already reaching for your shoes.

And as you step out the door, heart racing, you realize—

This time, you’re going to run toward Hyuck.

Because he’s always been the one and it’s about time you told him.

@HYUCKS HOUSE

You don’t know why you’re nervous.

Actually, scratch that—you do know why.

Because this is Hyuck.

Because it’s been weeks. Because you let the distance grow, and now you’re about to do the most humiliating thing possible: show up at his door in the middle of the night, probably looking like a disaster, and pour your heart out.

Great plan. Really solid. No notes.

Still, you knock.

And the second the door swings open, all your thoughts evaporate.

Hyuck stands there, hoodie slightly rumpled, his hair sticking up like he was asleep before you interrupted. His face is groggy, blinking at you like he’s trying to make sure you’re real.

“…y/n?”

You open your mouth.

And immediately start crying.

Like, full-on tears. Embarrassing.

Hyuck panics. “Wait, huh, are you okay??”

You sniff, waving your hands wildly. “I— hiccup— I don’t know why I’m crying!”

His hands move without hesitation, reaching for your arms, steadying you. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” His grip is warm, grounding. “Did something happen?”

You shake your head rapidly, but the tears won’t stop. God you really missed him.

Hyuck makes a helpless noise before sighing and tugging you against him. His arms wrap around you, firm but careful, like he’s worried you might break.

You bury your face in his hoodie, gripping the fabric tightly.

Hyuck rubs your back in slow circles. “Okay. Just—breathe, yeah?”

You sniffle, nodding against his chest. His warmth seeps into your skin, comforting in a way nothing else has been these past few weeks.

And then, before he can say anything else, the words just spill out.

“I just— Hyuck, I missed you.”

His hold on you tightens for a second before he pulls back slightly, just enough to see your face. His brows furrow, but he stays quiet, letting you talk.

“You’re— you’re so important to me, okay? And I hate that I let us drift apart. And I hate that I didn’t realize sooner that you are—” You hiccup again, rubbing at your face. “I don’t even know what I’m saying, I just miss you so much, and everything sucks without you, and I—”

Hyuck suddenly squints at you. “…Are you drunk?”

You freeze. “What?”

“You’re being so dramatic right now.” His lips twitch like he’s holding back laughter. “You have to be drunk.”

You gape at him. “I am not drunk, you absolute—”

“I dunno…” He crosses his arms, pretending to analyze you as he leans closer to your face. “Messy hair, teary eyes, emotional confessions in the dead of night… this is very intoxicated behavior.”

You groan, shoving at his shoulder. “I swear I’m sober—”

“Alright, c’mon, Crybaby.” He snickers, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside. “At least cry in my room instead of my doorstep.”

You let him drag you in, still sniffling as he kicks the door shut behind you.

And just like that, you’re home.

Hyuck flops onto his bed, patting the space next to him. “C’mere, you baby.” You roll your eyes but sit down anyway, pulling your knees to your chest.

Silence settles between you. Not awkward, not tense. Just… there.

Hyuck sighs, tilting his head toward you. “You really missed me that much?”

You swallow, nodding. “Yeah.”

He watches you for a moment, then scoffs lightly. “Idiot. I was always here, y’know.”

Your heart clenches. “I know. I was just—”

“Being dumb?”

You groan. “Yes, okay! I was being dumb.”

Hyuck smirks, but it softens as he nudges your knee with his. “It sucked without you, too.”

Your breath catches. “Yeah?”

“Obviously.” He huffs, looking away like admitting it pains him. “Who else was gonna make me leave my apartment and go on stupid 2AM snack runs?”

You let out a small laugh. “You love those snack runs.”

“Yeah, but I love them with you.”

You freeze.

Hyuck doesn’t seem to notice what he just said, or maybe he does, because he clears his throat quickly and sits up straighter. “Anyway. What was up with that dramatic monologue outside? You really that miserable without me?”

You hesitate, then nod. “Yeah.”

He blinks.

You sigh, rubbing your arms. “Hyuck, you’re— you’re my person.” You glance at him, eyes searching. “You always have been.” You meant it.

Something shifts in his expression.

For the first time all night, he’s quiet.

Your heart pounds. “I—”

“Wait.” He suddenly lifts a hand, stopping you. Then, deadpan— “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

You groan, shoving his face away. “Hyuck!”

He bursts into laughter, eyes crinkling at the corners.

And even though you’re this close to smacking him, you realize—

This is why you came back.

Because no one makes your heart race and your soul feel alive like Lee Donghyuck. You don’t even realize how close you’ve gotten until his laughter fades, leaving only the soft hum of the night around you. His gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes.

A beat of silence.

Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he leans in.

And you meet him halfway.

The kiss is warm, slow— like a quiet understanding. Like something that had always been there, waiting to be noticed. It wasn’t like all the other kisses, the party hookups. This was real.

His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss just a little, enough to make your breath hitch.

When you finally pull away, he exhales, pressing his forehead against yours.

“…Yup.” He grins. “You definitely weren’t supposed to kiss me like that if you were drunk.”

You laugh softly, still slightly breathless. “Shut up.”

He hums, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Not a chance.”

And this time, when he kisses you again, neither of you stop to think.

Because for once, nothing else matters.

NOTES: I wouldve wrote longer but my brain fogged oops but i hope you guys enjoyed!!

[nottivagos]

i'm very moved by how pathetically submissive daniel ricciardo was back in his toro rosso days and even when he was properly at red bull... so, have some sub!daniel and basically sexually torturing him to tears, i suppose?

an: tw - somnophilia, bondage

i love love loveee the idea of you being purposefully cruel to daniel when he's finally home after a long triple header. maybe it's a way to toy with him, play with his emotions a little, test him to his absolute limits perhaps, because let's be real here, he's going to want you desperately after being away for so long.

so, to make him crazy after being away from you for so long, you start tame. subtle things like teasing him around the house by purposefully wearing no panties whilst wearing his large oversized tees that barely graze your thighs, teasing him by grinding your bare ass against his clothed crotch whenever you're cooking dinner or doing some chores around your shared house, to even making out with him until his rutting into your cunt, just to stop, leaving him confused and in a half-hard daze as he has to sheepishly rub one out because he's too horny to even concentrate on anything else, making him slowly but surely lose his mind.

maybe it then becomes so bad that he ties anything to get a feel of your cunt again. you can sense he's reaching his breaking point when he tries slipping a hand between your thighs whilst you're watching a rather.... explicit movie (chosen by yourself, obviously, just to make him even more feral) just to have you swat away his hand and scold him like a misbehaving puppy, because he knows he's doing something wrong, but he'll still just look up at you with those wide, confused brown eyes before you storm out of the room, leaving him stupidly hard again from the way you're treating him.

more days go on however and its still not getting any better for daniel. there's no way you're giving up as you smugly watch him become more fidgety every time your bare pussy meets his gaze, his cock now twitching and throbbing just at the sight of it, and the way he now yearns to be shoved deep into your cunt, but you're still not letting up for him.

so, what do greedy puppies do when they want something they can't have so desperately? they make bolder decisions, becoming more reckless. you won't let him fuck you straight? fine, he'll find a way to eat you out instead! you'll never know if you're sleeping, and daniel stupidly tricks himself into believing that he has the skills to not make you stir, but his pussy-drunk hunger clouds his judgement, just like the stupid boy he's become.

once you're asleep, he's already between your thighs, giving your folds little kitten licks as if he's savouring the taste of you on his tongue again, or if he's trying to be as discreet as possible. however, he gets too drunk on your sweet taste, eating you out messily, unaware that you've awoken, just to be met by your foot pushing his head away from your dripping folds, staring down at him with a tight jaw and a look of disappointment in your eyes, causing him to whimper as a mere streak of drool dribbles pathetically down his chin like a messy puppy.

so that's how he ends up being tied up, hands behind his back as he's forced to watch you thrust a dildo into your cunt for the umpteenth time, toying with your hardened nipples, just waiting for him to break like you know he will.

"oh honey, are you a bit lonely over there?" you giggle teasingly with a devilish look in your eye, glancing as daniel writhes in the binds tying him together, his whole being yearning to be over the top of you, his hands to be gripping you, marking every inch of your skin as you pant sweet praises into his mouth when he seals a bruising kiss to your lips. "i bet you're practically salivating, jealous of this dildo in my cunt..." you trail off as you pushed the toy deeper into your gummy walls, causing a short content gasp to whistle through your teeth. at this point, daniel is too far gone. his chest is tight as his cock strains in his boxers, tears brimming and blurring his vision as he's overwhelmed by the craving to feel you, jealous that you'd have the audacity to fuck yourself with a toy whilst he's right there with you in the room. "so fucking good," you breathe, letting your head rest back on the pillow below you, allowing yourself to break apart acting blissfully unaware that daniel is there in the room with you.

then daniel whimpers again, big brown puppy eyes still glued to your naked frame, as you slowly pleasure yourself before his eyes. you know he's going to break when you start moaning, closing your release as your back starts to arch off of the mattress, your thumb now slowly toying with your clit, causing the moans to become a higher pitch ever so slightly.

and when he breaks, tears just stream down his face as he incoherently babbles and blubbers, protesting that he "can't take it anymore" in that stupid whiny voice as his cheeks are stained by his salty tears.

his face is formed into a pout as you hum happily to yourself, smug that your little plan to get him to break worked as you slip the dildo out of your slick folds, pulling your panties up over your pussy again before pulling yourself off of the bed and walking over to him. you tower over his bound frame, taking his chin in your palm so you can divert his gaze up to you, you hooded eyes teasing yet sultry as you pout down at him as if you're taunting him.

"such a poor puppy," you mumble, head shaking as you tut. your voice is soft as you brush your thumb over his trembling bottom lip, as daniel gulps back pathetic sobs from escaping his lips. "do you want to fuck me? is that all you want, danny?" you taunt, crouching down to his level, just to smile sweetly despite the smugness hidden in it.

and he just nods like the stupid puppy he is, before you go over to your bedside drawers for a moment, pulling out a collar with a tag that says 'mommy's good boy' on it, tying it around his neck before kissing his temple. soon after, his binds are removed and you're on all fours on the bed as he thrusts deep into your muttering "thank you, thank you, thank you," as he takes out his frustration of being denied you for ever so long <3.

[fawniswriting]

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

This is the official masterlist of fics I've written for Bucky Barnes.

The content of this masterlist is sorted from newest to oldest except for interconnected one-shots (these will be sorted based on the story's chronological order).

I do not consent to my work getting republished and/or translated without my prior agreement.

My stories may include heavy themes, and I encourage everyone to please read the warnings I've added to each fic before reading them.

My fics are mainly intended for female readers, but I do have ones that are gender neutral (the individual story will state as such).

I intend to write very inclusive stories with as minimal physical descriptions of the reader as possible. If you think a story of mine isn't inclusive enough, please let me know! I'm always looking for ways to improve 💞

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Series

Faithfully Yours

Knight Bucky Barnes x Female AFAB Princess Reader (Historical Royal AU)

Marrying the King of Asgard is one of your duties as a princess, even if your affection belongs to another. When tragedy falls upon your kingdom, the life as you knew it is lost. With Sir James Barnes by your side, will you finally be able to prioritize your heart, or will there be even more things at stake?

One-Shots

The Quiet Side of Thunder

CEO Husband Bucky Barnes x Wife Female AFAB Reader

When a visit to his office leaves you shaken, Bucky becomes determined to take care of you.

Domestic Warfare

Bucky Barnes x Female AFAB Reader, Platonic Thunderbolts x Female AFAB Reader

After a mission filled with close calls and bad decisions, the team comes home to find an even bigger threat waiting at the door—your wrath.

Even Fallen Things

1940s Bucky Barnes x 1940s Female Reader (+ Soldat Bucky Barnes + TFATWS Bucky Barnes)

The story of a girl and her fallen flowers, and a boy who can't seem to forget either of them.

Mr. Congressman

Congressman Bucky Barnes x Female AFAB Reader

After Congressman James Buchanan Barnes buys you a drink at the bar, your night takes a turn for a more passionate one.

Before I Could Say It

Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral Reader

This fic can be read as a standalone or as a prequel to After I Was Too Late.

The three times Bucky almost confessed his love to you, and the one time he finally does.

After I Was Too Late

Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral Reader

This fic can be read as a standalone or as a sequel to Before I Could Say It.

The three times Bucky saved your life, and the one time you save each other.

Sources: header by me, flowers divider by me, line divider by @saradika-graphics

[astraljedi]

Long Story Short (Tommy Miller)

Summary: After arriving in Jackson, you reunite with Tommy Miller—an old flame you haven't seen in over twenty years. And as you and your daughter try to settle into your new reality, old feelings, regrets and past scars resurface.

Pairing: Single Dad!Tommy Miller x Reader

Warnings: mention of trauma, scars, past abuse (implied), protective!Tommy, past miscommunication.

Word Count: 2.9K

Songs: Long Story Short by Taylor Swift

A/N: Not going to lie, I've had this idea for a while now and I'm currently planning on writing a part 2. Also, do you guys like the custom headers/posters for each fic? Let me know your thoughts and ENJOY! Taglist: @grayandthyme @darkwhisperswolf @umadirectioner -

Long story short, it was a bad time

For months, it was just Lucy and me crossing state lines all alone. Enduring different weather, escaping raiders and surviving the chaos of the end of the world. There were moments where I sat and thought if I made the right decision. FEDRA wasn’t safe, our home wasn’t safe either. But what if it’s even worse out here and I risked her safety for us to end up worse than before?  

The moment Lucy turned fourteen, I started prepping her in secret while her father was away. Sneaking out through the back walls into the woods, not too far but not too close where the guards could hear guns going off. For two years, I managed to teach her how to survive outside FEDRA’s walls with or without me. There was always a high risk of me falling behind, sacrificing myself for her or even if her dad managed to find us. He would kill me and she needed to know how to escape him, even if that meant leaving me behind. 

It took years to work up the courage, and even more guts to finally run one night while her father was out on duty. But for her? I’d do it all over again, a thousand times in a heartbeat. 

I didn’t know what was waiting for us beyond those fences. But I knew I had to take a chance of it being safer than keeping Lucy under the same roof as the man who was supposed to protect us. The man I thought was the kindest soul once, caring and loving. 

By the time we crossed Wyoming, the cold was setting in hard. The winds were picking up and we barely could see anything between the rows of trees. I hoped for the sight of an abandoned cabin, something for us to sit and stand by while the weather eased. I thought maybe we’d hit our end of the road. 

But when those tall gates creaked opened and the patrol team that found us led us inside, It was the first time in months that I could breathe a little easier. 

I keep Lucy close, my arms tucked around her shoulders, trying to share what little warmth we have between the two of us. It was only the beginning of the season, and it was already this bad. I cant imagine how its going to be when a storm comes. 

“We should get them something to eat,” One of the guys who brought us in says. 

“No, they need medical attention first. And some new warmer clothes. God knows how long they’ve been out there almost freezing to death in those thin jackets.” the young woman snaps back at him. They were whispering but I could hear every word clearly. 

My lips tremble as I look around the town. The white snow carpeted the whole town, kids were playing in the snow while other adults walked around the town, drinking whatever warm liquid they were serving out of one of the tall buildings. It was surreal, seeing a town actually living, no FEDRA, no infected in sight. Just normalcy and community. 

I turn to Lucy, her eyes glimmering as she catches sight of a group of laughing teenagers slip out of the bakery with their own drinks in hand. She doesn’t say anything, but the hope in her eyes makes my heart swell.

“Peach?” A low gasp escapes me and my body freezes on the spot. That voice, that same voice that haunted me for years during sleepless nights. For a moment, I think my mind is playing games with me.

The cold finally getting to me. 

But the moment I turn around slowly, my heart at a stop waiting for it to jump out of my chest the moment I wake up from the trance.

The moment my eyes land on his, dark eyes that had gone through hell, but those were still the same brown eyes I fell in love with over twenty years ago back in Texas. 

The memory of those same eyes scanning my exposed skin under the hot summer Texas sun, his rough fingertips trailing up my thighs until they met with the hem of my shorts, tugging them down slowly as his lips feverishly roamed every inch of my body. Leaving me breathless and aching. Hoping the neighbor didn’t pop their head over the fence. 

“Tommy,” I breathe out. 

He was still the man I ran away from, too scared to get my heart broken. Because there was no getting over Tommy Miller, there was no cure for the man who stood in front of me. He looks older, lines at the corner of his eyes, a few new scars across his cheek and forehead.

This version of him, rugged, tougher and broader. At first, he looks like a soldier right after battle, in pain and like he’s seen the worst. But then I catch a glimpse of the version I used to know, soft, caring and tender. 

He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t waste any second more and crosses the distance between us in quick strides. His strong arms pull me into his body and I welcome his warmth, the familiar weight of him. 

I bury my face in his chest, my hands clinging to the back of his thick jacket. God, it’s been so long since I’ve felt this safe and at peace in someone’s arms. In the arms of a man who I know wouldn’t dare hurt me, the arms that held me close like I would vanish the second I pull away. 

“I thought you were dead,” He breathes, his face nuzzled so close. His voice trembles, but I could feel the sense of relief and his shoulders relax once he realizes I’m not running away. “Peach, you don’t know how long I looked for you.”

I close my eyes, taking in his new scent of wood, leather and a hint of smokiness. It was different, mature. 

My throat strains and hot tears sting my eyes, the weight of everything almost crumbling down all at once. The weight of every bruise, every cry and scar on my body. Heavy sleepless nights were Lucy was sick and her father was nowhere to be found, probably drunk and fucking someone else while I stayed up with a crying six month old, desperate to get her feeling better. 

“Mom?” Lucy’s voice pulls me out of the trance. Tommy tenses and I pull away from him, already missing his warmth when the harsh wind crashes to me. I quickly wipe away the tears from the corner of my eyes and try to compose myself.

“Sorry,” I mumble, pulling her close. “Tommy, this is my daughter, Lucy.” 

Tommy looks stunned, eyeing me and then at Lucy.

Lucy looks up at me confused, her brows pushed together. Then she looks at Tommy, eyeing him top to bottom. “How do you guys know each other? You never mentioned a Tommy.”

I clear my throat, feeling my cheeks heating up. “We used to be friends, before the outbreak.” 

Tommy scratches the back of his head, nervous with a tint of red on his cheeks. “Nice to meet you, Lucy.” 

Lucy shrugs. “Can we go somewhere warmer? My jacket’s too thin, and I’m starving.” I huff at her, giving her a stern look. 

“What?” She asks, genuinely confused. “You’re only wearing one layer because you gave me the second jacket we had so I wouldn’t get cold. One more second out here and your lips are going to turn blue.” 

Tommy chuckles. He lets patrol know that he's taking over and sends them over to the stables to finish their shift.

“How about we get you both something warm to eat,” He says, gently slipping his arm around my shoulders again, guiding us toward one of the buildings. “And then we can find you better jackets.” 

It’s embarrassing how fast Lucy and I devour the warm, flavorful stew Tommy got us at the dining hall. Hiking across borders doesn’t exactly guarantee hot meals everyday, it doesn’t even guarantee food at all unless you’re lucky or smart enough to make it work. 

“I’m sorry mom,” Lucy mumbles, her mouth still full, “but this is way better than wild rabbit.” 

I roll my eyes playfully, swallowing the last bite. “God forbid a mom tries to make do with what nature gives her to feed her grumpy teenager.” I tease, nudging her shoulder.

“Wait ‘til you try the chocolate cake,” Tommy says, leaning back in the wooden chair across from us, a smile tugging at his mouth.

“You’re kidding. Cake?” Lucy’s eyes light up. “I’ve never had cake before.”

“Stay here. I’ll get you both a slice.” He chuckles, standing up and shaking his head before walking off.

The moment Tommy leaves, Lucy leans in, sipping what’s left of her stew. “Does Dad know him too?”

“No,” I choke out, clearing my throat. “I met Tommy way before your dad, we lived on the same street.” 

Lucy hums, processing my answer. 

Tommy comes back with two slices of chocolate cake in each hand. I force a smile and take the plate, but my stomach twists. Just the mention of her father is enough to ruin my appetite.

“Dad!” a little voice shouts.

My head snaps toward the small voice just in time to see a boy—no more than four—running across the hall and launching himself into Tommy’s lap.

“Benji,” Tommy grunts, smiling as he catches the kid and holds him tight.

A kid. He has a kid and it didn’t even cross my mind that he could be married, let alone have a kid. 

“Where’s your mom, huh?” Tommy asks gently, brushing snow from Benji’s coat.

“Right here,” comes a gorgeous woman in braids, shaking snow off her jacket. Her braids are perfect, not a hair out of place even with the strong winds outside. “He wanted to see you before bedtime,” she says with a soft smile, reaching out to smooth Benji’s hair.

Lucy glances at me, silently asking if I knew about them. I give a small shrug and slide my untouched cake over to her. She accepts it without question, already distracted by the sugary frosting.

“This is Maria,” Tommy says, unreadable. “She basically runs the town—pretty much the reason Jackson’s still standing.” Then, he introduces us, “And this is her daughter, Lucy.”

My Lucy grins and gives a small wave, cheeks puffed out with cake.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Maria says warmly. “I hope Jackson’s been good to you so far. Kat, the girl who brought you in, told me how they found you. I’m glad you’re safe and I hope you’re considering staying.”

Maria wears confidence and kindness proudly. No wonder she’s the glue that keeps this place together.

“Thank you,” I say softly. “We didn’t really know where we were going. I just—I wanted to find somewhere safe. Somewhere Lucy could grow.”

“If you decide to stay,” Maria offers, “there’s a school and they get to help with minor easy chores. Kids get to be kids here.”

“There’s no rush,” Tommy adds, placing Benji gently on the floor. “But there’s a small house that’s been renovated. If you want it—it’s yours. For both of you.”

I glance at Lucy. Her cheeks are rosy, her eyes bright. And she looks like a kid again. Not a survivor, just a girl, full of curiosity, a little mischief and grumpiness.

“I like the sound of that,” I say, looking between Tommy and Maria. “What do I have to do?”

And for the first time in years, there’s a little hope brewing inside of what our lives could be like living here.

For the night, Lucy and I would stay at Tommy’s until he could stop by the next morning bright early to make sure everything was working fine for the both of us. 

Tommy’s house is quiet, warm and every corner smells like him.

I shut the guest bedroom door gently, careful not to wake Lucy. After her shower, she changed and crawled into bed before I could even brush her hair. She was out in seconds—exhausted from months of hiking across states, finally resting on something soft.

I shiver as I head downstairs barefoot. One of Tommy’s neighbors had dropped off clothes for us, and I’m desperate for a comfortable, oversized sweatshirt. Even with the fire crackling in the living room, the tank top and sweatpants aren’t cutting it. Not after the shower either—my skin still flushed pink from the heat, and somehow, I’m still cold.

I crouch in front of the basket and start sifting through it, hoping to find something warm enough to get me through the night. 

I glance up, hearing footsteps. And for a second I think it’s Lucy, but they’re heavier, hesitant. 

Tommy stands in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, a steaming mug in his hands. His eyes land on my shoulder first—on the long, faded scar slicing across my upper arm. Then they catch the newer one at my temple, still tender and pink.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. 

But I see it—the shift in his face. His jaw clenches, the storm, rage and a hint of hurt brewing behind his eyes.

I tug an oversized sweatshirt over my shoulders, my fingers trembling—not from the cold, but from the memories burned into my skin.

Tommy walks in slowly, handing the mug out to me. “Chamomile with a bit of honey.” 

“Thanks.” I take it with both hands, settling down on the couch while letting the warmth spread into my fingers. 

I expect him to sit further across the room, but he sits down right on the edge of the coffee table. Looking straight at me. 

There’s a moment of silence, just us staring at each other while I sip my tea. His eyes trail my body, not sexually, but looking at me like I might break at any moment. And if I do, there’s no doubt he wouldn’t flinch to catch me, to protect me from the darkness in my head.

He’s trying to read me, trying to guess what happened all these years we’ve been apart.

“I looked for you, you know.” He breaks the silence, hands folded between his knees. I stare at him, cowardly pushing my words and feelings down. “Every quarantine zone I passed through, every supply run... I kept hoping I’d find you. Prayed you weren’t taken from me from this world.”

“I was out of state before the outbreak hit.” My voice is low, hiding behind the mug. 

“Why did you leave me?” He asks and he flinches, like the bruise is still fresh, still aching. “What I don’t get is why you left without saying goodbye? Why not talk to me first?”

“Because if I saw you—if I looked into those pleading eyes—I wouldn’t have gone,” I whisper. “And I needed to. I needed to leave before you had the chance to break my heart.”

He kneels down in front of me, his voice rough. “Peach, I was in love with you. So fucking in love with you. How could you not see that?”

I grip the mug tighter, my hands starting to shake. “You said you just wanted sex, Tommy. You never told me differently.”

Tommy chuckles in disbelief. “I did. Peach, I did.”

My brow furrows. “What?”

“That night. I told you I loved you. You were half asleep—I thought you heard me. I was gonna say it again in the morning, but when I woke up, you were gone.”

I blink at him, the air sucked from my lungs. “No. No, I didn’t fall asleep that fast.”

He smirks. “You did. I wore you out, remember?”

I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting a small laugh. I grab the nearest pillow and smack him with it. “Still an ass after all these years?”

He grins, finally sitting beside me on the couch, shoulders loosening.

“So,” I say, looking down at my hands. “You and Maria?”

“Yeah. We were married for a while. Didn’t work out in the end.” He grabs the blanket draped over the back of the couch and tosses it over my shoulders.

“And a kid too.” 

“Benji. He’s the best thing to come out of it. Smart as hell, too.” He chuckles, pride softening his features. “And you have a daughter.”

“Yeah.” I exhale, my eyes drifting towards the stairs. “Funny how different things are now. I was twenty-five when we met. You were thirty-two.”

“Did you ever get married?” he asks, but he doesn’t look at me when he says it.

“No.” I hesitate. “Lucy’s father didn’t believe in marriage.”

“Didn’t?” Tommy glances at me. “Did he pass away?”

“No.” I stare into the fire. But I wish he had. It would mean he couldn’t hurt us anymore. “He’s not in the picture anymore.”

Tommy hand finds mine, sliding it into his calloused hand. “You’re safe here. Whatever demons you left behind, I won’t let them hurt you.” 

I bite down hard, swallowing back the lump on my throat. Instead, I lean into him, tucking my face into his chest. His arms wrap around me instantly, shielding me of my own demons and nightmares. 

I shut my eyes, the tears sting but I don’t let them fall. I don’t let myself break. 

Because for once, even if the weight is still there, I feel safer now in these walls than before. 

Long story short, it was a bad time Long story short, I survived

[scribblesofagoonerr]

You're just like them | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

pairings: leah williamson x reader!monkey x reader!buddy x jordan nobbs

summary: monkey is unhappy to spend the night round jordan's for the first time since the transfer to aston villa and she makes her feelings known

double the trouble masterlist

also thank you to @alotofpockets for help with pics for the header + little ideas to add in along the way

“No,” The words out of your mouth were sharp, you folded your arms across your chest and shook your head stubbornly. You were known to be stubborn at times and today was certainly no different.

“It won’t be that bad,” Leah tried again, her tone being gentle but firm, “And you won’t be on your own, Buddy will be there with you as well.” She pointed out, motioning to your favourite little buddy that is bouncing around happily, blissfully unaware of the tension in the room.

“We’re goin’ to Mama’s house!” Buddy chimed in cheerfully, “Monkey ‘ou can see Blu too!” She’s far more excited about this decision than you are, but then again you suppose she’s used to being there more frequently than you, in fact you’ve not actually been to Jordan’s new place so you have no clue what it’s even like, “I show ‘ou all of my toys!”

“See? Buddy’s excited,” Leah said, motioning to your favourite little buddy with a hopeful smile, “It’ll be fun to be there together!”

“Nope, nuh uh!” You insisted, shaking your head harder, “I don’t wanna go there!”

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling a deep sigh, “Monkey, please. I know you don’t want to go, but I would feel more reassured to know you were there���”

“I don’t get why I can’t just come? I’m almost 18!” You interjected, throwing your hands up in the air, “It’s only another month away, it won’t matter!”

“The keyword is that being almost there, Menace,” Leah chuckled, shaking her head in amusement, “Maybe next year my girl, eh?” She joked, ruffling your hair.

“Get off,” You grumbled and tried to dodge her hand from touching your hair still, “I don’t want to go there!”

Tonight was Leah’s birthday party since she couldn’t celebrate much when it was her actual birthday, so the celebrations were delayed until tonight at least.

You were gutted you weren’t allowed to go, sometimes it sucked to not be an adult yet.

Despite your determination to try and change Leah’s mind, she wasn’t overly thrilled with the idea of you coming into a club while being under the age limit and therefor, had the brilliant idea to all but ship you and Buddy off to Jordan’s much to your absolute detest about it 

Hence the whole argument at that current moment that you’re having with her after she’s just dropped the bombshell on you about going there.

“I know you’re not happy about this my girl but it’s just for tonight,” Leah began to speak, “And yes I’m aware you’re almost 18 now but I’m sorry, you’re not staying in the house alone, I don’t know what time I’ll be back and I would feel a lot more comfortable if you were somewhere that I knew you were safe, okay?” She told you firmly, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips.

“But why do I have to go there though?” You huffed and stomped around in strong disagreement, you definitely weren’t going to agree to going there against your own will, “I’m not going and you can’t make me!”

“Monkey, come on. Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Leah exhaled a sigh and rested her hands on her hips, “Jordan’s really looking forward to spending time with you both as well.”

“I don’t care, I’m not going! Why can’t I just go to Kim’s house? Or even Wally’s?” You demanded, scrunching your face up in confusion, “Or there’s even Beth and Viv’s as well!”

“Because they will all be coming to the party tonight,” Leah explained patiently, her tone calm despite your attitude overall as she continued to fold a set of Buddy’s clothes and put them in her overnight bag fresh out of the washing basket, “Jordan’s really looking forward to spending time with you and Buddy. It’s been a while since you’ve properly seen her.”

A groan escaped your lips, your frustration bubbling over, “Yeah and there’s been a reason for that,” You murmured, hopping up onto the counter definitely.

“Oi, off there,” Leah swatted at your knee, just like she always does but now you just do it to purposely wind her up, “Will you please just give her a chance?”

Rolling your eyes, you hopped off the kitchen counter, “I don’t want to go, Le,” You mumbled, still standing firm in your protest as you lean up against it and cross your arms.

Leah exhaled a sigh, biting her lip, “Look, I know you’re not thrilled about it, but it’s only for one night–”

 “One night?” You repeated, your eyes widening, “One night? Nah, there’s no fuckin’ way I’m going there and staying overnight! No! You can fuck off if you think I’m doin’ that, Leah!” You hadn’t meant to swear, but you couldn’t help your initial reaction at that very moment, “I thought that I would at least be able to come home tonight after you’re back!”

You especially hadn’t meant to do it in front of Buddy and her little ears.

Buddy gasped, her little eyes wide as saucers, “Monkey, ‘ou said bad words!”

“Tattletale,” You murmured, rolling your eyes.

“Excuse me?” Leah’s eyes narrowed, flashing with anger suddenly. You guess you did just swear at her, what other type of reaction did you expect?

“You’re excused,” You replied, a cocky smile plastered over your face, “I’m not goin’ there!”

“Yes you are,” Leah snapped, her patience now wearing thin, “I get that you’re annoyed and upset about this, but I am definitely not going to stand here and allow you to swear at me like that and think you can get away with it. You don’t have a choice in this, you’re the child and I’m the adult and what I say goes, understood?”

“Urgh, whatever. It wasn’t even directed at you!” You grumbled, completely lying through your teeth but you didn’t want to make the situation worse for yourself, the blonde looked pissed as it was already, “I’m not goin’ there and you can’t make me!”

Leah’s jaw tightened, you can see a flicker of hurt flash across her face, but it’s quickly replaced by the stern expression she usually reserves for you when you’ve pushed things too far, “Monkey,” She said, her voice low and controlled, “You’re going to Jordan’s and that’s final. End of discussion.”

“No I’m not!” You shouted, frustration boiling over, “I don’t even care what you say, she abandoned us– she abandoned me! I’m not goin’ there and you can’t make me!”

The words hung heavy in the air, and for a second, there was silence. Even Buddy seemed to sense the shift in the room, her little face wrinkling with confusion.

“Hey, bubba,” Leah turned her full attention to the little one in the room, very much aware this is a sensitive topic to be discussed around her, “Why don’t you go and choose what toys that you want to take to Mama's house when we go there, huh?” She suggested.

“Yeah!” Buddy’s shout was electrifying, not wasting the time to toddle into the living room and seek out the toys that she wants to bring with her for the unexpected sleepover at Jordan’s house.

Leah took a deep breath, trying to steady herself and you can see the conflict in her eyes, the way she’s fighting between anger and empathy, “Monkey, it wasn’t like that,” She finally said, softer now, “Jord didn’t abandon you. You know she didn’t leave you because she wanted to hurt you, she had to make a choice based on her career and sure, it was a difficult one, but it was something that she needed to do but it wasn’t about her not caring, my girl.”

“But she left us… She left without even thinking twice about it!” You snapped back, your voice trembling with emotion you hadn’t expected to feel, “I asked her to not go and she still did!”

All throughout your life, you have had endless people walking in and out of it.

Your mum abandoned you when you were little and your dad couldn’t wait to wash his hands off you the minute that he could. The 2 most important people in your life just decided to up and leave you, just like that.

It’s one of the many reasons why you keep your walls built up so high because then at least nobody can knock them down and hurt you again, right?

You learned to trust people more when you signed for Arsenal and moved in with Leah and Jordan at the start, you opened up to people who you thought would never leave you, all of them stayed apart from one.

Jordan.

It hurt more than it should’ve done, it just really stung.

The separation between Leah and Jordan was a completely mutual decision between the two of them and you could understand that, in fact even when Jordan moved into a place in London, you would still go there and visit, even spend a few nights there with herself and Buddy when you could.

However, things turned sour when you learnt of the woman’s plans to transfer to Aston Villa in the Winter transfer and from there, you found yourself pushing her away.

If you pushed her away then it would save you from getting hurt too much when you eventually didn’t see her, right?

Wrong.

The day of the move, you found yourself crying and begging her to stay, but she never did.

She left you, she left you and Buddy, and even Leah to some extent.

You couldn’t help but resent her for that now if you’re being honest.

Leah sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over her face as if trying to rub away the tension, “I know it feels like that, my girl,” She said softly, “I know it hurts and I wish I could do anything to make it better, but sometimes people have to make choices that don’t always make sense to us. It doesn’t mean that Jord doesn’t care though, you know she loves both you and Buddy, so much!”

“Well it doesn’t feel like she cares nor can she love us that much if she just chooses to willingly go,” You murmured, shoving your hands in the pockets of your shorts.

“No matter what you think, you know deep down that Jordan does care about you, a whole damn lot,” Leah explained to you gently, her eyes softened ever so slightly, “She didn’t want to go, it was just… look, sometimes life just doesn’t give us the easy option.” 

You continued to scowl, stubbornness etched into your every feature, “Yeah if she really did care then she would’ve stayed, regardless of that and whatever.” You can’t say you’re in the mood to listen, to rationalise, or to forgive. As far as you’re concerned, Jordan chose her career over you, she abandoned you and there’s no good enough excuse for that.

“Look, my girl, I know this isn’t something that you want to do and I know you’re still upset with her about things,” Leah knew this isn’t something that’s going to be fixed with words, but she has to try at least, “I’m not saying you have to forgive her today, or tomorrow, or anytime soon, but I do need you to go there, and just… just give it a chance, please?”

“I… I don’t want to go,” You murmured quietly, shaking your head in defiance. The mere thought of it filled you with resentment.

The blonde exhaled a sigh and ran her hand through her hair, “Please? Just do it for me,” She pauses, “Jord really is looking forward to spending some time with you.” She added.

You let out a derisive scoff, the bitterness evident in your voice, “The feelings’ not mutual there,” You retorted, refusing to meet Leah’s gaze, “Please don’t make me go, Le.”

Leah’s eyes softened with a mix of pleading and resolve, “Do it for Buddy, if not for me.”

The mention of Buddy stung, she didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of this but of course Leah knows that you would do absolutely anything for your favourite little buddy.

“Fine,” You snapped, pushing yourself off the counter with a huff, “I’ll go there, but don’t expect me to be happy there!”

Leah nodded, relief evident in her eyes despite the tension, “That’s all I’m asking for, my girl,” She said softly, “Just a chance.”

The initial drive to Jordan’s place was mostly filled with a tense silence, apart from Buddy’s cheerful singing from her car seat to none other than the soundtrack of North London Forever that she surprisingly asked for herself and of course Leah was quick to agree to the request. 

You keep your gaze stubbornly fixed out of the window, refusing to look at Leah or engage in any conversation and the blonde, thankfully senses your mood and doesn’t push further, already exhausted from trying to reason with you.

“Alright then, we’re here,” Leah announced, trying to keep the mood cheerful as she glanced between you in the passenger seat and the rear view mirror to see Buddy vibrating with excitement in her car seat.

“Fantastic,” You murmured, your stomach tightening in resentment as you stared out the window, not wanting to move out of your seat.

“Mama!” Buddy squealed from the back of the car, all but trying to unbuckle her own car seat much to her disappointment of not being able to, “Mummy, wan’ out!” She whined in frustration.

“Hold on a second bubba,” Leah chuckled at your favourite little buddy’s general lack of patience, “Mummy will help you to get out in a minute.” She added.

“Do I really have to be here?” You asked, frowning as you looked at Leah for a response, which you definitely already knew the answer to.

“You already know my answer to that,” Leah retorted, exhaling a sigh as she turned the car ignition off before unbuckling her seatbelt, “It’s just one night.” She reminded you.

“Worth a shot I guess,” You huffed in response and slowly moved to unbuckle your own seatbelt.

“It won’t be that bad,” Leah attempted to reassure you, giving you a soft smile before she opened her car door and climbed out of it to walk round to the side Buddy is to set her free from her car seat, “Right then, my little bubba. Are you ready to go and see your Mama?”

“I see Mama!” Buddy shouted excitedly as Leah unbuckled her and lifted her up to place her on the ground, “Mama! Mama!” She continued to squeal in delight.

“Yeah, we’re gonna go and find Mama,” Leah smiled genuinely at her 2 year old’s excitement as she held her in her arms as she turned back to look to where you’re still sat in the car, “You’re going to have to get out sooner rather than later, you know?” She told you, amusedly.

“I choose later,” You murmured, barely louder than a whisper, reluctant to climb out of the car any time soon, “Better yet, I’ll just stay in here and come back home with you.”

Leah exhaled a sigh and opened the car door, “Get out of the car, Menace,” She paused as she adjusted Buddy to sit on her hip, “Come on, just give it a chance, please?” She asked.

“Don’t have a choice,” You grumbled under your breath as you slowly climbed out of the car and stood there with your hands shoved in your pocket while you looked further unimpressed, “Are you sure I can’t come tonight? Nobody would even notice I was there, it’ll be fine!”

“No,” Leah kept a firm face as she slammed the car door shut behind you, locking her BMW before starting to walk up the steps of Jordan’s house, who had already clocked the car and came to answer the front door, “Bubba, look it is!”

“Mama! Mama!” Buddy immediately leaned towards Jordan the minute that she clocked her and you couldn’t help but dawdle behind with a scowl etched on your face.

“Hi, Buddy!” Jordan exclaimed, reaching out to scoop Buddy into her own arms as she hugged her gently, “I’ve missed you so so much!”

“Mama you’re silly, you saw me yesterday!” Buddy’s giggles were infectious as she reminded Jordan that she did indeed see her yesterday, having it be your favourite little buddy’s birthday yesterday when she finally turned 2 years old.

“Oh of course I did but I miss you all the time,” Jordan retorted playfully as she tickled Buddy under her armpits which caused the 2 year old to laugh even more, “Or is that not allowed now?”

“Where Blu?” The 2 year old asked eager to see the little four legged dachshund and you must admit that you’ve been excited to see him if anything else.

“He’s inside the house and he’s so excited to see you both,” Jordan told the toddler, placing her down on the ground before she toddles inside the house, “Hiya, little one!”

“Don’t call me that,” You said like the words are venomous to you in that moment.

“Oh, sorry,” Jordan was immediately apologetic as she shared a concerned look with Leah, “It’s so great to have you both here, I, er, I didn’t think you would come.” She admitted, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Yeah well I didn’t want to be here, but well, I wasn’t given much choice about it regardless,” You grumbled the truth and continued with your carefree attitude you have going on.

“Monkey, don’t be rude,” Leah chided you for your lack of manners, giving you a pointed look.

“What? I’m just being truthful!” You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders carelessly, “I told you I would come but I didn’t say I’d be nice about things.” You added, honestly.

Leah pursed her lips and narrowed her eyebrow, “Hey, come on. We talked about this.”

“Be grateful I’m even here,” You murmured in response, choosing to have more interest with your phone in your hand than to look between the two old, “Cos’ I really don’t wanna be.”

“Enough of this,” Leah scolded you, “This is Jord’s home and you need to at least be respectful of that, regardless whether you want to be here or not, okay? I don’t want to hear about you being rude this time that you’re here!”

“Ugh, whatever,” You brushed past the older women inside the house with your hood up and slumped down on the sofa.

“Look Monkey it’ Blu!” Buddy motioned to the small dachshund puppy that you hadn’t seen in a good while and you did have to admit that you missed him an awful lot.

“Hi boy! Hi!” You crouched down and gave the puppy some fuss, “Oh, I have missed you!”

“I’m sorry about her,” Leah apologised for your rude behaviour, “She’s just… well she’s a teenager for a start and she’s still not exactly handling it well that you’re not just five minutes down the road now.”

“That’s okay, I know what she’s like. Monkey’s stubborn and if she doesn’t want to do something then she won’t, will she?” Jordan retorted, exhaling a sigh, “She really didn’t want to come that bad, huh?”

The blonde bit her bottom lip and shook her head, “I’m sorry Jord, but I’m sure things will get better. You just have to give it time and be patient with her, even if it’s difficult.”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” Jordan replied, smiling at her ex girlfriend, “I can understand if she’s still upset about me moving to Aston Villa, I guess it’s just a lot to handle for her, huh?”

Leah shared a weary smile with her ex girlfriend, “If it gets too much then let me know and I’ll have a word with her, because despite how she feels, she’s not allowed to be rude.” She made her point evidently clear.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jordan reassured Leah with a soft smile, “You deserve to have the night off and enjoy your party tonight, don’t worry about either of the kids, they’ll be fine.”

“It's not so much Buddy I’m worried about, it’s more so Monkey,” Leah admitted, shaking her head as she jiggled her car keys in her hand, “I’ve already dealt with both her delightful attitude and language before we left the house and she knows I’m not putting up with it.”

“Oh, bad morning?” Jordan winced in response, “I had no idea moving to another club would have this much effect on her.” She admitted, ultimately regretting the decision there at that very moment.

“It’s a change and Monkey doesn’t cope with them but she’ll get used to it, Jord,” Leah reassured her ex girlfriend, “It just means things around the house are a little bit tense right now, but she’ll get used to it soon enough.”

“But in the meantime you get the brunt of her delightful teenage attitude? That’s not right,” Jordan frowned, hating the idea of you taking most of your anger out on the blonde, “I’m sorry you're having to deal with that.”

“It’s alright, I totally expected it honestly,” Leah admitted as she exhaled a sigh, “It won’t last forever and she knows I won’t stand for it, I was this close to grounding her after she swore at me earlier.” She adds, her patience wearing thin for your lovely words directed towards her.

“Understandable,” Jordan smiled wearily as she scratched the back of her neck, “I don’t have much hope to fix everything in an instant but I can at least try my hardest.” She tells her.

“Just don’t give up on her,” Leah told her as she shared a knowing look with Jordan as she popped her head into the living room and smiled when she saw you’ve joined Buddy on the floor to give Blu some fuss, “Seems just like old times, eh?” She joked, gesturing for Jordan to look in the living room.

“I swear I have a photo identical to this taken last year,” Jordan joked lightly as she moved further into the living room, “I was thinking that we could have pasta for dinner tonight? Monkey, I know it’s one of your favourites… unless it’s changed?” She asked, hesitant for the backlash from you.

“No thanks, I’m not hungry,” You respond politely as you could while seeing the warning luck that Leah is giving you in case you comment something less polite.

“Monkey, you didn’t eat much for breakfast nor did you have anything for lunch,” Leah frowned and shook her head, “You love pasta, especially the way Jord makes it!”

“Not hungry,” You repeated with a tight lipped smile on your face, going back to staring at your phone in your hand and scrolling through Instagram.

“That’s okay,” Jordan agreed with you, “I’ll go ahead and start to make it, I’ll leave some out for you in case you decide you're a bit hungry.” She told you, although you doubt you would want to eat it.

“Right then,” Leah spoke up as she looked towards both you and Buddy, “I’m going to head off back home to get ready, I’ll leave you three to it.”

“Thanks, Le,” Jordan replied, smiling at her ex, “I hope you enjoy your party tonight and celebrate.”

“Oh I intend too,” Leah couldn’t help but grin playfully at her ex, “Much better to know that the girls are both here with you as well.” She added.

“They’re safe with me,” Jordan promised, “Enjoy your party and don’t worry about things here, it’ll be fine.”

“Here’s hoping so– Monkey, be good!” Leah warned, pointing her index finger directly at you, “Remember what I said.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You murmured, rolling your eyes.

“Mummy, wait for me. I didn’t say bye to you!” Buddy came rushing over to Leah and threw her little arms around her.

“Oh how could I leave without saying bye to my little bubba?” Leah leaned down and cupped Buddy’s face in her hands before she peppered her face with kisses, “Be good for your Mama, okay? I love you lots and lots!”

“Love ‘ou lots and lots, Mummy!” Buddy told her, continuing to hug Leah tightly.

“Not as much as I love you, my little bubba,” Leah genuinely smiled at the 2 year old before she turned her attention to you as she walked nearer to where you sat on the sofa, “And I love you too, my grumpy girl.” she told you, placing a kiss on your forehead, much to your own protest about it.

“Leah man, get off,” You grumbled, trying to swat her hand away from touching you, “Bye!”

Leah and Jordan shared another apprehensive look with one another, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control here. I’ll text you if anything bad happens,” Jordan reassured her, “Enjoy the night, honestly.”

“Okay, okay,” The blonde exhaled a sigh and runs her hand through her hair, “I’ll have my phone with me the whole time, so you can still text me if you need too,” She said, looking more towards you to reassure you that you can still get in touch with her if needed.

“Prepared to be spammed with gifs,” You murmured, a mischievous glint in your eye as you don’t even bother to look up from your phone in your hand, “Can’t say I didn’t warn you either.” You added.

“Mama! Mama!” Buddy’s voice was the centre of conversation with Jordan as the two of them played together on the carpet in front of you with some of the cars that your favourite little buddy brought from home, “Me cars’ red like Mummy’s team!”

Jordan’s eyes lit up in amazement as she smiled at the 2 year old, “That’s right, clever girl! What colour is this car?” She wondered, holding up the dark blue coloured car.

“Blue!” Buddy retorted, excitedly, “Like, not Mummy’s team!” She added.

“Well done, Buddy,” Jordan praised the toddler, “You’re getting more and more smart every day, kiddo!” She told her.

You couldn’t help but sit there and roll your eyes. You didn’t care much to contribute to the conversation Jordan and Buddy were having, you would much rather be interested to sit on your phone like you planned to do, at least your TikTok page was a good distraction.

“Alright, I should probably start dinner soon,” Jordan said, realising the time on the clock on the wall, moving to get up from the floor as she looked at you, “Will you please keep an eye on Buddy for me while I sort that out?” She asked.

Glancing up from your phone, you couldn’t help but huff and place it beside you, “Yeah whatever, but not for you though, I’m only doing it for Buddy,” You told her, bluntly as possible.

“Oh, yeah that’s fine,” Jordan responded, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat as she tries to not feel too hurt by that comment but the reality of it was that it really bothered her - You used to be so close with her, you would follow her around like a little shadow and not you want nothing to do with her at all, it really stung.

“Monkey, will ‘ou play with me?” Buddy’s little voice chirped as she peered up to look at you with hopeful eyes, “We build lego!”

“How can I say no to my favourite little buddy?” A small small appeared on your face as you slid off the sofa to join Buddy on the floor, she had all but completely abandoned her cars she was previously playing with in favour of the lego bricks that she attempted to drag over from the corner of the room, “Too heavy, Monkey!” She whines in frustration.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got them, Bud,” You giggled and stood up to easily move and pick up the lego bricks, “See? They’re not that heavy, you just needed a strong big sister to lift them up,” You joked with her.

“Thank ‘ou!” Buddy squealed and immediately dived into the box to start pulling out the different colourful lego bricks, “Monkey, ‘ou start with this one and I start with this one!” She declared, handing you a green block.

“Why can’t I have the one you have?” You asked playfully, pointing to the red block that she had in her hands, “I prefer that one.”

“No, that’s my block. ‘Ou have the green one!” Buddy’s little voice demands firmly, pushing the green block back into your hand, “I like red better!”

“Of course you do,” You retorted, grinning in amusement, “What colour is North London, Buddy?”

“Red!” Buddy declared loudly.

“Ain’t that right, Bud!” You nodded in agreement, “Guess I can agree to stick with the green block just for you.” You added, shrugging your shoulders as the two of you start to build together.

However that didn’t stop the two of you squabbling about the rest of the blocks though.

“What’s going on in here then?” Jordan popped her head round the door as she heard the commotion coming from the living room, “I thought you two would be playing nicely in here, eh?”

“Mama!” Buddy’s lower lip trembled a little, her big eyes filling up with frustration, “Monkey’s not sharing and letting me the ‘ellow block!” She whined, pointing accusingly at you.

“You're such a tattletale sometimes,” You rolled your eyes, feeling the frustration building inside of you, “You wanted me to play with you, Buddy! How am I supposed to build something if you keep taking them all?” You argued, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

Jordan sighed and knelt down to the toddlers level, “Buddy, you know if you want Monkey to play with you then you have to share,” She reminded her, “Even if you like the certain coloured blocks.”

“But you don’ understand Mama, I like them ones. Monkey can have others!” Buddy pouted, clearly not liking the answer, “My blocks!” She declared, keeping a tight hold of them.

“Whatever, I don’t care,” You remarked, feeling your own frustration simmering as you do no more than push the tower over that Buddy’s been building in anger, “Oops.”

“M’ Tower!” Buddy’s whined, her upset clearly evident as the tears began to form in her big eyes, her lower lip quivering, “Monkey, ‘ou ruined it!”

“Oh well,” You shrugged carelessly and sidestepped over it to make your way back to sit on the sofa again.

“Monkey!” Jordan’s eyes widened in disbelief at your current attitude, especially towards your favourite little buddy of all people before she was quick to scoop the upset 2 year old onto her lap, “Hey, it’s okay, Buddy. We can just build it again, yeah?” She reassured her, hoping to calm the situation.

Buddy continued to sob and cling to Jordan, “I no wan’ build with Monkey, she’s a meany!”

You couldn’t lie and say that didn’t hurt your feelings because it definitely did to hear it out of the toddlers’ mouth even if she didn’t quite understand the words that she was saying.

“It’s just a tower,” You muttered, rolling your eyes as you turned your attention back to your phone in your hand again to scroll through your social media feeds, “It’s not a big deal.” You added, feeling a tiny bit guilty for upsetting the toddler.

Jordan exhaled a sigh and continued to cradle an upset Buddy in her arms as she turned her attention towards you to address the situation, “Hey, little one–”

“Don’t call me that!” You snapped at her, feeling so much hatred towards the woman in that very moment, “I’m not your little one anymore. You of all people don’t get to call me that!” 

Jordan’s face fell, the weight of your words hitting her like a punch to the gut. You watched her blink a few times, trying to process the sting of your outburst while still holding Buddy close.

“Okay,” The woman said quietly, her voice trembling slightly but still calm, “Look, I know you’re upset right now and I’m sorry li– Monkey, I am, but regardless of that, it’s not okay to upset Buddy like you did,” She told her, her tone gentle but still firm.

“Whatever, I don’t care,” You muttered, not having any interest in this conversation with Jordan at that moment, “You can’t tell me what to do either, you don’t get the right to do that anymore!”

“I know,” Jordan mumbled, exhaling a sigh as she knows that you’re really upset with her and she’s not going to push you to talk to her, “Right, Buddy. How about you come with me into the kitchen while Mama cooks dinner and that way we can give Monkey a bit of space, yeah?”

“Uh huh,” Buddy sniffled and nodded, her little face still wet with tears as she was reluctant to let go of Jordan anytime soon with her arms wrapped firmly around the older woman.

“Come on then,” Jordan murmured softly, standing up with the toddler in her arms as she casted one more glance in your direction, her expression a mixture of concern and sadness, “Take the time you need to calm down, Monkey. If you need me then we’ll be in the kitchen.” She added, before turning towards the kitchen.

“I won’t,” You stated coldly, although you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt tugging at your chest, but you did your best to shove it down and turn your attention back to your phone.

Had you really meant to come across that horrible?

The frustration you felt was evident and you had to remember that Jordan left you, one of the people that used to be a constant source of comfort and support and now she was just gone, but it was her own fault for leaving when she did, so maybe she did deserve the resentment you were showing towards her after all.

You were even more reluctant to join them for dinner, even if pasta was your favourite dinner sometimes but you were too stubborn to give in.

You were somewhat glad that Jordan seemed to sense that you didn’t want to be bothered and didn’t start up another conversation with you, at least until it came time to put Buddy to bed later that night.

“I’m about to go and put Buddy to bed,” Jordan said after coming back through the living room with the toddler ready for bed in fresh pajamas and wet hair from the bath.

You did have to admit that it hurt a little bit when the toddler didn’t reach towards like she usually did, but you suppose that you were mean when you pushed her tower over.

“Okay, have fun with that,” You muttered, continuing to give her the cold shoulder.

Jordan adjusted Buddy in her arms, “Maybe after that, we could sit and watch a film? You still like Shrek, don’t you?” She offers, hoping to start an olive branch from that.

“Not in the mood,” You murmured, reluctant to look up your phone where you currently had previously been spamming Leah with gifs like you had promised, you were so gutted you weren’t old enough to be there in the club with everyone else and had to be stuck here instead with Jordan.

“For Shrek?” Jordan questioned, tilting her head to the side in shock, “Oh, I never thought I’d see the day. Alright, how about one of those Marvel films? I remember you used to absolutely love–”

“No,” You interjected, scowling at her menacingly, “I don’t want to watch a movie with you, and I don’t want to talk about the past either. You left, remember? That’s on you!”

“Oh, uh well then that’s alright,” Jordan stammered, lost for words in that current moment, “Um, I’m just gonna go and put Buddy to bed then.” She added, quick to escape to the safe haven of the toddlers’ bedroom and leave you to sulk in the living room.

You felt a pang of guilt but then you remembered that Jordan brought this on herself. She’s the one that left you, it wasn’t the other way around.

She deserves to be treated this way.

You weren’t left to stew in your thoughts for very long before Jordan wandered back through into the living room, you hoped that she might just leave you to it but you were sadly mistaken with that as she came to join you on the sofa as she grabbed a hold of the remote and turned the TV on to find something decent to watch.

You were fine enough to not have to speak to her while you just continued to sit there on your phone, you suppose you could have gone and sat in your bedroom but that just felt a bit lonely.

It was awkward though for the two of you just sat in a tense silence before Jordan was the first to start up a conversation, “Monkey,” The woman began to speak as she looked towards you, “Do you, uh, do you think we could talk?” She questioned, hesitantly.

Exhaling a deep sigh, you didn’t break eye contact from your phone at all, “I have nothin’ to say to you,” You murmured bluntly, continuing to scroll your Instagram stories. You had seen several private stories of the girls at Leah’s birthday party tonight and you can’t help but be envious that you couldn’t be there instead.

“Okay, well how about you just listen and I talk then instead?” Jordan suggested, wearily as she muted the TV show she’d stuck on, “Look, I know that things have been tough since I transferred to Aston Villa, but you have to understand I did it for the right reasons.”

“You left,” You sneered at her, cold and heartlessly.

Why couldn’t you be at Leah’s party instead of being stuck here in this current situation?

It wasn't fair!

Speaking of the blonde, she had sent you a delightful text that you somewhat made sense off right at the moment.

captain buzzkill 🙄🫡 Hi my cheeky monkeey! 🐒 I hoep you’re not causin any trouble for jord and pease don’t give her a hard time. she loves you so mcuh and I love you so mcuh. lots and lots like jelly tots my girl 💕💕 I’ll see you tomorrrow xxx

You couldn’t help but giggle at the state of her text message, it was very clear that she was very drunk already by the lack of words spelled correctly but it was nice then even when she was out partying and having a good time, she still thought about you and checked in to make sure you were okay throughout.

“What’s so funny?” Jordan questioned, curiously as she peered up from looking at her own phone.

“Nothin’ just something one of the girls sent me from college,” You lied to her, not wanting to tell her it was actually Leah.

Jordan hummed in agreement, “Oh right,” She paused, “Hey, do you uh, do you want to have a game of Fifa?” She suggested another attempt to try and make amends.

“No I’m good,” You were quick to agree.

“That’s okay,” Jordan replied, sounding disheartened.

You huffed and stood up from the sofa, “I don’t want to play video games, I don’t want to watch anything and I certainly don’t want to talk to you,” You told her bluntly, not giving her the chance to speak again, “I’m going to bed,” With that, you made your quick escape down the hallway to your bedroom that you had here.

Although you didn’t make a direct beeline for your bedroom, instead crept quietly inside the toddlers’ bedroom, “Buddy?” You whispered quietly, praying that she wasn’t already asleep.

“Monkey?” Buddy’s little head popped up from her cot with her dummy bobbing gently in her mouth as her eyes lit up when she saw you, before she reached her arms out.

A small smile tugged at your lips, a sense of relief washing over you that she still wanted you despite the way you had acted earlier, “Yeah, it’s just me,” You murmured softly, leaning over the bars of the cot to scoop her up gently. 

Making sure to grab Buddy’s blanket, you wrapped it around her to keep her warm, before sitting down with her in the rocking chair, “I wanted to say sorry for upsetting you earlier.”

“Ou’ were mean,” Buddy mumbled, her words muffled by her dummy still in her mouth as she nuzzled her head against your chest, “Ou’ broke the tower.”

“I’m sorry I did that,” You whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as you felt the guilt of earlier weighing heavily, “That was really mean of me to do it and I didn’t mean to get so angry about things either.”

“Ou’ mean to Mama too,” Buddy said, her eyes peering up at you with quiet sadness, “Ou’ made Mama sad. Don’ like Mama sad.”

Your breath caught in your throat at her words, “I know,” You murmured softly, your fingers gently running through her soft curls, “It’s just… You wouldn’t really understand it, Buddy. It’s complicated.”

Buddy nuzzled closer, the rhythmic sound of your heartbeat soothing her, but words still echoed in your mind. You didn’t want to upset anyone, least of all your favourite little buddy, “I don’t want to ever upset you, Buddy. Do you forgive me?” You asked, your voice filled with hope.

“I forgive ‘ou, Monkey,” Buddy replied softly, her tiny arms wrapping around you in a forgiving embrace, “Ou’ have to be nice to Mama too!”

You couldn’t help but smile at her innocence, though her words stung a little, “Yeah, I’ll try, Bud,” You murmured, gently rocking her as you stared out into the dimly lit room, “Things are just a bit tricky at the minute for me to do that, but I’ll try.”

It was easier said than done and you know there’s still a long way to go before you are willing to accept the apology any time soon, but at least Buddy seemed satisfied enough with your answer as her little hand gripped your shirt and continued to rest her head against your chest.

“I love you, Buddy,” You whispered, pressing another soft kiss to the top of her head, “You’re the best little sister I could ever wish for.” 

The comfort of your embrace lulling Buddy to sleep in your arms, her breath slow and steady against you and for a moment, the weight of everything seemed to lift, feeling the connection that only you two shared.

What you didn’t realise was that Jordan had overheard the entire conversation through the baby monitor that you forgot was still in Buddy’s bedroom. Her heart melted at the tender conversation between you and Buddy, and although she understood that you were seriously upset with her, it left her with some hope that just maybe, things between you both would be okay eventually one day.

You hadn’t expected to wake up in a panic like you did, you felt as if your heart was racing and your breath was quickened. Looking around the dimly lit, unfamiliar room, your surroundings felt too large, too cold and you didn’t like it at all.

Disorientated, you threw your duvet off you as it felt like you needed to escape from it.

Of course you had another nightmare, typically, it was about both of your biological parents this time round. You guess your mum leaving you had been on your mind lately, overshadowing Jordan’s absence in your life now, it brought up a whole lot of unwanted feelings, all over again.

Making your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, you succeed with that task until you take a misstep, tripping over one of Blu’s toys in the process and go flying, the glass falling out of your hands and smashing into pieces on the floor.

“Monkey?” Jordan’s voice spoke softly, appearing in the kitchen as her concern was evident, “It’s late. What’re you doin’ up at this time?”

Standing there frozen in the kitchen staring at the shattered glass on the floor until the woman’s voice broke you out of your trance, “Uh, I… I just wanted to grab a glass of water. I tripped over Blu’s toy and it fell out of my hands,” You admitted, looking around to spot the dustpan and brush, “I’ll clean it up now.”

Jordan shook her head in disagreement and was careful to not step directly in the glass, “Careful, you’ll get glass in your feet,” She told you, moving to grab the dustpan and brush out of the cupboard where it’s kept, “Stay there and let me sweep it up, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that. I’m really sorry!” The tired state you were in overshadowed the anger you felt towards the older woman, immediately apologetic for what had happened due to past childhood trauma.

“Hey it’s okay, it’s just a glass,” Jordan reassured you, finishing sweeping up the broken glass and dumping it in the bin, “Do you want me to get you another drink?” She questioned, turning to look at you.

“No it’s okay, I… I’m just gonna go back to bed,” You murmured, shaking your head and turning in the direction to head back down the hallway to your bedroom without another word.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Jordan’s words made you snap your head back around and glare at her, “Was that the reason that you’re awake?”

“No,” You growled at her, not wanting to talk about things as you started to wake up  and were more aware of the conversation you were having with the woman.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jordan offered you, evident concern in her voice.

“No, not with you I don’t,” You snapped, continuing to scowl at her, “You… You abandoned me as well when things got tough!”

Jordan frowned and shook her head, “Monkey, I haven’t abandoned you. I’m still here,” She paused, “I know it’s hard to understand that, but look, I’m still here, even if it might not seem like it right now.”

“Yes you did!” You shouted, pointing your index finger directly at her, “Yes you did!” You repeated.

“Hey, please keep your voice down,” Jordan reminded you, her tone gentle but still firm, “Buddy’s asleep, remember? I don’t want you waking her up.”

You couldn’t help scoffing and rolling your eyes, “Oh of course you only care about that.”

“I care about you too, little one–” Jordan began to tell you.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore, you left me!” You interjected, your voice a bit louder than you realised it was.

“I’m still here, Monkey,” Jordan murmured, trying to get through to you.

“No you’re not!” You exclaimed, shaking your head in disagreement, “You left, you’re just… you’re just like them!”

“Monkey–” Jordan began to speak in a calm tone of voice.

“Mama,” The conversation was broken up by Buddy waking up, making her upset well known.

Jordan exhaled a sigh, “I’m going to take care of Buddy and try to get her back to sleep,” She paused, running her hands through her hair, “Try and get some sleep, kid. Just know I’ll always be here for you,” With that, she walked past you to head into Buddy’s room and you are once again left feeling bad for waking up your favourite little buddy.

Could you really ever forgive her for just abandoning you in the way she did?

Right now, it really didn’t seem possible for that to happen at all, but maybe time will tell eventually.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[knnichs]

ㅤruler of my heartㅤ a furina x reader fake dating au

t. not proofread, possibly ooc furina, set on a semi-modern fontaine, furina is NOT the archon, scara being a hater, wc. 3.3k

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series masterpost header art credits

author notes at the end!

ii. smooth sailing

It’s been three days since you’ve signed the contract with your director and your coworker. Three days where you had second guessed every decision leading up to now. It seems like your director was right about this whole stunt after all, everyone's attention was on the film and the two of you now. It’s unsettling to feel like the entire world has eyes on you, but there was a feeling in you that prided in the fact you’ve made it this far, you only had to worry about your co-worker playing the part.

In all truthfulness, though, Furina was not a bad actor–far from it, actually. WIth a seemingly snap of a finger, she was able to completely shift her personality to another, as if it was lightwork. You’ve admired her talent for as long as you could remember–but it leaves a bitter taste on your tongue, knowing that despite all your hard work, it was truly nothing compared to someone with a natural ability.

She had texted you not long ago. Yesterday, 6 pm, and now, 3 pm, reminding you to dress up for this pretend-first-date she had taken the honor to set up.

And now there you were, standing awkward infront of some cafe with a name too confusing to pronounce, it seemed to be popular with how many people were sitting in it. Warm golden lights seeped through hand-painted windows–this was the type of place you’d see when looking for stock images of cafes. 

An intense smell of roasted coffee beans would greet you once you even step one foot inside, and you quickly look for your date so you wouldn’t seem like an idiot standing by the entrance. 

Furina was already posing dramatically for nonexistent cameras, legs crossed while elegantly sitting on the chair. 

“Well?” She said, mocking impatience. “Are you going to sit down or what?”

You could only roll your eyes at her, pulling the chair back and settling in the booth seat.

 It didn’t take too long before some people started staring at the two of you–hushed whispers as they brought out their phones to take pictures. Why is THE Furina out on a date?

The silence was deafening. It didn’t even seem like you two were on a date, it was awkward, every time you tried to speak you’d hesitate and your hands would start to shake. You’re used to having a spotlight on you on set, never in public. This was your first time getting in a film for the festival and you didn’t even know it would get this big. 

Not for the all-talented Furina, though. Apparently not. Because she just had to clear her throat, cross her arms, before beginning to fit into the role given to her immediately. 

“Well… I’m getting a slice of lemon chiffon cake! It’s the most photogenic–it’ll look good on my feed, exactly matching the look of this place. Oh, and it’s tasty too. Naturally, it’s cake!”

You raise an eyebrow at her comment, “Did you just pick the place based on aesthetics?”

“Obviously. If we’re gonna be seen, we must be seen in the best light possible. It’s gonna be horrible if we’re unflattering, might as well play the part till the end, yes?”

“Thats…” 

Oh, it was certainly something. Not once in your lifetime would you think you’d ever see Furina actually take this whole thing seriously. Maybe it’s because she’s effortlessly flawless–ever since you’ve started your acting career, you felt as if you had to play as someone perfect all the time, even if there were no cameras and flashes filling your entire vision. Even if you were in the privacy of your apartment. It was ridiculous enough that you couldn’t help but laugh–that small interaction was enough to ease the tension you were feeling.

You had called over a waitress and finished placing your orders. You two sat opposite of each other, the table was small enough that your knees almost bumped. All while waiting for your food to arrive, Furina insisted on taking several pictures. She pulls out her phone, angling it just so to capture a candid-looking selfie, head tilted, a small smile curving her lips.

“You should lean in,” She whispered without looking up at you at all. “It’ll look absolutely adorable.”

And so you did, not without hesitating for half a second, forcing a pitiful smile. The phone clicked, Furina stared at the photo critically, then hummed in satisfaction.

“Perfect!” She declared, “Authenticity achieved. You’re a natural at this.”

The photoshoot didn’t end there, unfortunately. You were forced to take a few photos of her, and she took three of you. You questioned her, why do we need to be taking photos of each other? 

All she did was give you a giggle and reply with, “it’s for documentation purposes, you wouldn’t get it.”

For a few moments, you two sat in the busyness of the cafe, sun pooling in puddles on the floor–it reached her, almost like a halo clinging to the edges of her figure, the murmur of other conversations hushing yours, almost as if what you two were sharing was a private moment when in reality, it was far from it.

Furina rested her chin on her hand, studying you with bright, questioning eyes. It wasn’t the look of her usual self, scheming and plotting something that could potentially bring all attention to the two of you. It was… curiosity. As if she was almost interested in you, a genuine way that made you feel a little uneasy.

“You’re stiff,” She said bluntly.

You blink, a little taken aback by the sudden insult. “I’m trying to be normal.”

“That’s the problem! You’re trying, you must be effortless, natural!”

“I don’t think being effortless is a skill you can just summon on command.” You shook your head, crossing your arms and giving her a look.

Furina giggled, not the usual theatrical act, but a smaller, real laugh that caught you off guard. And before you could reply–your orders had already arrived. Two delicate plates painted to perfection, almost as if carved with actual gold with the amount of skill poured into it. Both slices of cake looked too pretty to eat, it almost made you feel guilty if you ruined it.

Furina wasted no time, however, snapping a quick picture before using a fork and diving into the lemon chiffon, sighing dramatically. “Absolute heaven,” She leaned across the table, taking another forkful of the cake and putting it right infront of you. “You must try.”

“What?”

“Try it!” She waves the fork, “Open up, come on, it’s just a bite.”

This is how rumors start, a few stolen photos, exchanged words from fan to fan–there was that feeling in you that this was wrong, you forget that you were simply on a pretend date. 

Odd. It’s almost as if you’ve completely forgotten you actually had the contract for a second.

“I suppose a single bite won't hurt anyone.”

It was light and sweet. The perfect balance of sweetness and sourness–vanilla and the taste of lemon clashed, but in a pleasing way. Furina grinned at your reaction.

“See?” She nudges you, “You can be charming when you try.”

You wipe your mouth with a clean napkin, “Stop being all smug—And yes, I am quite charming.”

“Ugh, whatever.” 

Sure, people were giving weird looks, but that was the point in the end. To gather enough attention for the film, be it scandal or not. Your moment with Furina put your guard down, you hadn’t noticed that people were already snapping pictures of the two of you. Phones peeking over a booth across the room, or barely-hidden glances by two teenagers whispering. It didn’t take long until blurry photos surfaced online.

Mission success, you think to yourself.

The sun was nearly set by the time you two went out of the cafe, the sky shifting to a soft, glowing purple and yellow. Streets were spilled with the light from the lamps, the air cold and thin. 

“I think this first date went well,” You say, not particularly to anyone, but Furina seems to notice. 

She hummed in agreement, letting herself breathe in the fresh air after being stuck in the cafe for so long. “Two days from now again, then? I got tickets to an aquarium showcase nearby.”

“Sure.” 

Maybe it was going well, maybe not. But for the first time, it didn’t feel like you two were pretending at all. There comes the price of being a great actor, you suppose. You’re not quite sure what's real or fake when you’re around someone as great as Furina–she could just be pretending, much like you, but what if it was real all along? 

What if. 

But there's no need to bother yourself with such distracting thoughts. There are things you need to focus on–the film, more pretend dates, you need to keep your act up at least until the festival. That is roughly… Two weeks from now.

Two weeks, you’re sure you can handle that atleast.

The wind tugged lightly at your leather coat as you leaned against the railing, just by the entrance of the aquarium Furina suggested you two go to. It was across the plaza, the glass making it seem as if it was glinting in the late afternoon sun. A large banner saying “DATE NIGHT: 50% OFF!” flapped noisily above you.

No wonder Furina got those tickets.

Speak of the devil. She was running towards  you, huffing, pure disappointment on her face–clearly unimpressed by her unprofessionalism. She had shown up fifteen minutes late–though she begs to differ, saying she was fashionably late, immediately launching to a dramatic retelling of how her hair refused to cooperate and how her original outfit suddenly disappeared into the comfort of her own mattress. 

She leaned beside you with arms crossed, chin tilted up like she was trying to intimidate the building. “Alright, we need a game plan.”

“For an… aquarium?”

“For our date,” She said, gesturing air quotes. “We can’t just walk in there like clueless idiots. There has to be moments, photo worthy angles, do you get what I mean?”

You shook your head once more, “No, not really. Did you want to storyboard this? Is that why you were late?”

“Just…! No–No I didn’t storyboard.” She huffed as if she was anything less than offended by what you said. “I’m improvising, like a true actress. But even improv needs structure.” 

Furina took out her phone and flipped the camera, her palm reaching to bounce her curls to fix them or something. “You’ll be on my left,” She added absentmindedly. “That’s your better side.”

“Excuse me? Are you saying I’m ugly on the other side?”

“Precisely.”

“Rude.”

“That I am not! Just telling the truth. Are we going to get in or not?” 

There was a flicker of something behind her eyes–a kind of nervous excitement she wasn’t quite able to hide behind the dramatics. She was trying, in her own way, atleast. Maybe not just for the cameras. 

You let a beat of silence pass before speaking up, “You know, we could just… Have fun. Be normal. See some fish?”

Yet she still looked at you like you’ve suggested committing treason. “Did you forget we’re doing this for PR?”

“It’s easier to fake a relationship when you don’t plan every interaction like it’s a play. Trust me, go along with it.”

Her mouth opened, ready to go talk back–but then, surprisingly, she quieted down. “Fine,” Finally slipping her phone into her bag. “Let’s do it your way.”

You offered your arm, “Shall we, your majesty?

She stared at your outstretched elbow, deadpan, scoffing when she pushed you slightly. “Never. Say that again.”

The inside of the aquarium was a hush of blue tinted light and soft murmurs, the soft whirring of the machine that clears the inside of the tanks. It smelled faintly of saltwater, obviously, you two were at an aquarium. The light would flicker from time to time-mostly due to the huge fish blocking it above you. You passed under an archway, casting rippling shadows over your face as if the building itself had sunk to the ocean floor.

The deeper you went in the showcase, the dimmer it got. The tank glowed at that point–schools of silver fish, a sea turtle drifting from time to time, its shadow vast against the wall. Furina’s earlier dramatic theatrics died down. She was uncharacteristically quiet, simply because of the awe present in her expression. She stopped posing for invisible cameras. You stopped watching for them.

There was a large viewing tunnel that dipped beneath the shark tank, Furina walked a little ahead of you, a bounce in her step you couldn’t ignore no matter how hard you tried. She looked up to follow the path of a hammerhead gliding overhead.

“Think they can see us?” She asked, whispering, she might've seen the signs to keep quiet.

“Maybe. What, you scared?”

“Ha! Far from it!” 

“Shh, not so loud.” 

A gentle lull settled between you, the sort of silence that wasn’t exactly awkward. It was comfortable. You two went from one tank to the next, the sound of muffled waves overtaking the sound of your own breathing. It was comfortably silent in the aquarium. 

Then, you found a reef tank.

It was massive–floor to ceiling, golden light that mimicked sunbeams through real water. Bright corals, you could’ve sworn there were some clownfish peeking out, sea anemones swayed with grace by the currents. The two of you stood in front of it, closer now without realizing at all, if it weren't feeling your hands brushing across her knuckles–you wouldn’t even think about getting too close to her.

She didn’t seem to mind, though. You were the one who stepped away, she was all too in awe of the fish. Seems like she was more interested in it than you, after all. You need to remind yourself that your relationship is fake, a PR stunt that your director thought of. Might as well make this trip worthwhile, so you try to speak up.

“Look,” You murmured, pointing to a tiny, almost transparent shrimp hidden behind two corals. “It’s a little shrimp. You can barely see it.”

You turned to Furina, trying to see if you caught her attention with that. Her gaze wasn’t on the tank.

It was at you. 

She looked at you with reason. It wasn’t a blank or distracted gaze, her eyes followed your every movement, the way you blinked, maybe the slow rise of your chest, or the way the light hit your face. Her eyes were wide, unguarded, you could almost see inside her very soul. You caught it just long enough to recognize it before she had blinked, panicked, and snapped her attention back to the tank. 

“What is it?” You asked, carefully.

Furina cleared her throat sharply, almost as if she were the one sulking. “Nothing. You had something on your face, that's all.” She gestured vaguely towards your cheek, fingers fluttering like an afterthought. Not once did she glance your way . “Lint. Crumbs. I don't know.”

You wiped your face, skeptical of her reason. “Really?”

She turned to look at you quickly, nodding too fast to be normal. “Yeah–yeah, it’s gone now.”

The fishes continued to swim in front of you, there was even a turtle waving by your peripheral, but you paid no mind. You chose to look at her for a moment longer, not saying anything. She didn’t try to meet your eyes again, instead, she fiddled with a loose thread on her sleeve. A ghost of a smile present on her lips.

“I see,” You say finally.

There was no lint, or crumb. But you didn’t push the topic further.

Instead you turned back to the tank, letting the silence guide the two of you again–but this time, it felt like it changed, there were unspoken words that none of you decided to say. Like something had shifted, and not a single one tried to think about what to do about it.

“Tell me something,” Furina said suddenly, her voice quiet.

You tilt your head, looking at her once more–she still hasn’t gathered the courage to stare back. “What kind of something?”

“Anything. About you–not something in your ‘press kit.’”

You paused, a little surprised by the question. “I used to sneak out of school to sit by the riverbank. Just to listen to the water. Pretend I was anywhere else.”

“That’s so lonely. Were you a loser back then?” Furina smiled, she tried to play off her question in order not to raise suspicions.

“It was peaceful. I didn’t mind.”

She regretted her previous comment, choosing to stay silent before talking. 

“I used to lie about being afraid of the dark so someone could stay with me. A–as a kid, of course, but that wasn’t because I was scared, I just didn’t want to be alone. Neuvillette, my friend, would often accompany me.”

“That’s not lonely?” You asked gently. This was when you realized exactly that you really didn’t know the first thing about your co-actor, behind the staged expressions, there really was something human behind it all. Even though you yourself were an actor, you couldn’t believe that someone like Furina… You shook your head before the thought continued.

She shrugged, “It’s different when you choose to do it.”

“Fair enough. You know, I used to get in trouble for sneaking out. My teachers would always message my parents, "I'd get quite an earful at home.”

She laughs softly, genuine. “Yeah?”

You hum, “Yeah. There was this one time I–”

A soft buzz lit up both your phones at the same time. Simultaneous vibrations, the pings suddenly multiplying like crazy. So, you both reached for your pockets.

There it was, a new tweet from your director’s official account.

Furina grumbled, a noise coming from the back of her throat. “She did not.”

“Oh, she did,” You say, showing her your phone screen.

“Ugh,” She groaned, rolling her head. “She’s going to start printing hoodies next. I just knew this was gonna happen–I should’ve never agreed!”

But her tone wasn’t exactly annoyed. She was already typing something back, a long message to your director and to the tweet. You watched her, not just her practiced scowl, but the little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

As if the idea of more time together wasn’t quite the worst thing in the world.

Maybe it wasn’t.

You two stepped outside of the aquarium after what felt like forever. The air was colder, the night wrapped around you like a blanket. The city streets gleaming with neon signs. You pause by the exit, unsure if the evening has been a success or just an elaborate act you two put up. Still, the soft glow from the signs above makes it feel like a scene from a film–one that you and Furina are just playing out, even if no cameras were there, as cliche as it sounded.

Furina pulls out her phone, a mischievous grin on her lips. “I think it’s time for a photo. We can’t leave this place without the proof.”

“Whatever,” You waved her off.

Though, you still agree. Even if you’re getting used to how natural this whole “date for the PR” thing felt despite it all being fake. Furina walks up to a passerby, flashing a smile that has a certain calculation behind it–practiced, she’s learned how to perform even in these moments.

With a small flash, the photo was taken. The stranger hands the phone back, and Furina looks a little disgusted by the angle.

“This is not good. How exactly am I gonna post this?” 

“You won't die with one bad photo.”

“I–You–Fine! Don’t blame me if we start getting backlash because of this… This.. Poor excuse for a picture.”

@ knnichs 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai or modify any of my works. doing so can and will result into me blocking you.

reblogs with comments are INCREDIBLY appreciated! go scream go feral idc i will eat all of them up and run away with a familiarly shaped reblog in my mouth, thank you.

GUYS IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG UM?????? i highkey lost motivation but we ball i was supposed to put gurt in this fic but i couldnt find a proper situation to put him in......... anyway !! yay... downfall is next chapter .. thats where real angst starts ........... the taglist is still open for anyone interested !!!!!!! i am THREE chapters far from finishing this WOOHOOa

[white-poppie]

OUR YOUTH

⎯⎯ MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

✶ pairing: s.suguru x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: You were young, dumb and so in love. There was always this adrenaline rush when you and Suguru were together; harmony, romance and protection. Fate, you called it. Our youth ⎯ you cherished it. But every high ends doesn't it? When Suguru left; the sorcerer society and you, Shoko and Satoru. And you were left with the weight of more than what you could carry. Decisions of your youth, testament of your love.

✶ tw: sexual intercourse <not really explicit, but I'll tag it as smut> heartbreak, abandonment, !!mentions of pregnancy and abortion!!, crying (a lot of it), panic attacks, lactation, post-partum, adoption, self-loathing, su!c!dal ideation, jealousy, mentions of suguru's twisted ideals of a perfect jujutsu society, super cute baby-girl (warning because so much cuteness bad for heart)

✶ taglist (comment under this post or any part to be added)

✶ PLAYLIST

<FINISHED>

ᯓ ✶ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

── Chapter 1 : Our Youth

── Chapter 2 : Moon Child

── Chapter 3 : City of Stars

(header credit : raonnni on twitter)

[rottingbedpost]

You & Me - Prelude

Characters - Idol/Canon! Yoongi x 8th Member/Idol/Fem! Reader

Tags - Friends/Band Mates to Lovers, Forbidden Love, 8th Member Au

Summary - Alone, away from all the boys during the holidays, what will happen when a suprize visitor shows up to the dorms?

Word Count - 2k

Chapter Warnings - Fluff, Angst, Talk of food(Non-ed related), Canonically Mint Yoongi

masterlist

A/N - This is my first fic in years, so bear with me, it’s going to be a journey. My bad for the poorly made header. Reply for tags!

SONG: Sex on Fire - Kings of Leon

Our First Kiss

Christmas Eve 2015

– – – – – – –  

This isn’t your first time alone on Christmas, but with the boys off with family, it feels a little bit more lonely. 

They are all you have—your chosen family. 

So, since your chosen family is with their real families for the holidays, you are spending them at the dorms, impatiently waiting for the rooms to be cramped again. To be sitting shoulder to shoulder with the rest of your band. They are the best part about being scouted, having this home, people to live with, who you love and who love you. Your best friends.

Jin would have kidnapped you and dragged you to visit with his family for the holidays if you had let him, Taehyung, too.

You knew they all cared. Not wanting to leave you alone this time of year. But frankly, you all need a break from one another. 

This was the first Christmas since your trainee days that you weren’t put to work. You didn’t want to be the one who makes someone else’s holiday sour just because you chose not to have a family to come home to. Your decision. 

It was surprising having these few days off anyway, being in the midst of promotions, and a concert next week. 

Promotions are going alright. The fear of disbandment has been a cloud of smoke in your life. Something you especially don’t like to think about. But it manages to take ownership of your mind either way. Always getting upset when the topic is brought up, as if it isn’t something destined for your future. Being torn apart from the only true family you know.

Not to mention losing him. But you shouldn’t think about your fat crush on your best friend of five years, now isn’t the time. It’s never the time. Write a damn love song about him and get over it allready.

You have to distract yourself. This time of year is hard enough without thinking of losing everyone in your life a second time over.

The laptop in the corner catches your eye. Bootleg a movie.

– – – – –

Mindlessly searching for a movie on your laptop shouldn’t be this hard. Maybe Rudolph? It’s been a while since you watched that one; it shouldn’t be hard to find. 'Tis the season! 

Another screen lights up, distracting you from your distraction. 

Your phone.

Min Yoongi (Coworker)

A name you had placed, partly as a joke, and partly to remind you that the cute boy smiling with his gums in that profile photo is off limits. It could cost you your job and your family.  

Accept Decline

“Yoongi?”

He shouldn’t be calling you? Is something wrong?

“Wow, doll? You can’t say Hi, or wish me a happy holiday? Maybe I shouldn’t have called”

He has got to stop calling you that. It makes things so difficult.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating? Why are you calling me? I don’t want you to miss time with your family-”

“It’s fine. I’m fine! I just wanted to make sure you are doing okay… “

Fuck. Of course, he is worried about you being alone, and you are just being annoying about it. He sounds so hoarse over the phone. I wish he were here, or I were there.

“So are you? Doing okay?”

Damn it. Took too long.

“Oh, yeah. I am doing. I am doing okay, only a little bored, but I’ll manage.”

“Are you sure? Did you eat? You shouldn’t be stuck bored on the holidays…”

So fucking thoughtfull.

“Yes! I promise I am just fine. And I haven’t ate, but I will.”

You won’t. But you can’t let him worry. Just Lie.

“It really is fine. I was just getting ready to start a movie, actually. And I’m craving chicken, so I’ll go get some. You really shouldn’t worry, go have fun with your family, ok?”

“I know you are lying.”

Stop reading me like that.

“No, I’m not.”

“You are, seriously, eat. I know you don’t want to leave the dorms, but you can at least make ramyeon, ok?”

Why does he know you? I mean, you know why he knows you. He is the first of the guys you met, and you have slept in the same room as him for five years now. 

“OK, fine. But promise you won’t spend any more time worrying about me?”

“OK.”

Something is off with him.

“Promise?”

“Promise…”

“You said you are watching a movie. What one?”

“Yoongi, you just promised to spend time with your family? Shouldn’t you go back to them?”

He is giggling. God just hang up already. You don’t need his smile on your mind. You are lonely enough. 

“Alright, doll.”

Fuck. Not that. Why does he think he can call you that?

“Enjoy your movie.”

“Goodnight, Yoong.”

“Night”

He sounds almost upset to go. Why did he call you?

END CALL

“Fuck”

Now this call is going to be all you think about tonight. What was up with him? It had to be more than just worrying for you.

Distraction.

“OK, Rudolph. Where were we?”

– – – – – – – 

As the Rudolph credits close, you let the Elf credits open. I guess this is the rest of your night. Laughing might make you feel better.

Keys.

Someone is unlocking the door. 

What. The. Fuck.

This came out of nowhere.

“Hello??”

No response.

Is it staff? Who is coming into your dorms? Fuck you aren’t dressed for this. It’s a damn holiday who is here? Especially just barging in. No courtesy knock at all. What the fuck is going on.

Footsteps. Chicken, whoever it is, brought chicken.

And there he is. The man who makes your world stop turning when he enters the room. You should be used to it by now.

Why is he here? Hair disheveled. Black puffer coat still on. That hair colour suits him so well. Is that beer?

“Yoongi?”

“Hey doll…” His teeth are tugging at his bottom lip. Why is he looking at you like that? Like he is about to be rejected. Or already has been.

He called you that damn name again.

“Yoongi… What are you doing here?”

– – –

The smells of fried chicken and beer complement the decorations well. They complement your mint-haired friend well, too. “You didn’t tell me why you came?”

He huffs. “I didn’t want you to be bored.” Crossed arms leaning on the counter. 

“Well, I can manage.” 

You had completely forgotten you told him you were craving chicken. You remember it now. These days, it doesn’t escape your mind how thoughtful he is when you think back on this night.

You take a bite.

“Why aren’t you back home?”

He sighs. “Are you going to make me talk about it?”

“Guess not.”

“Did you finish?”

You choke on your sip of beer. “What??”

“You said you were going to watch a movie?”

Holy shit. You need to get laid. How on earth is that the first thing you thought of? The smirk on his face shows he knows exactly where your mind wandered off to. Ignore it. You need to ignore it.

“Oh. I watched Rudolph. I was getting ready to start Elf when you got here.” You manage to get out.

He takes a bite out of a chicken leg. You copy him, hiding the rose on your cheeks.

“Let’s watch it then?”

“Are you sure? We can do something else if you want. Or you could go home?”

“I live here, not with my parents.” Something happened. I wonder if they are fighting again.

“Alright. Elf it is!” It’s better not to talk about it.

You go to your laptop. Having turned it off when he first showed up. Who knows how long it’s been since then? You glance at the clock.

11:45 PM

You watch as he carries the drinks into the room. Only four cans left. 

PLAY

He sits too close. The laptop is small but not that small.

“It’s been a while since I watched this.”

“Me too.”

He puts a cold drink in your hand, your third, then gets one for himself.

“Thanks for this… by the way.”

“It’s nothing. Watch the movie.”

He is always brushing you off so fast.

It’s not nothing. Why is he here? Why does he have to be so perfect? Why can he read everything about you, and you can’t understand a single thing he does? Why can he sit here, thighs touching like he doesn’t feel the air around the two of you? Maybe that’s it. He sits this close because you are friends. That's it.

Stop inhaling like you are trying to breathe him in.

volume: ++++

Did he do that to make the sound drown out your thoughts or his?

The screen is reflecting off his glasses. Those god damn glasses. Stop staring. His looks are criminal. Thank god for his sweater and look away.

– – – 

Two half-empty cans left.

He is looking at you again. Don’t look back. Pretend you are watching the movie, not his reflection on the screen. Why is he looking at you like that? It’s like his eyes are digging into the side of your face. 

Just bite your tongue. Can he stop? He shouldn’t bite his lip at you like that. 

God, his eyes. Wait, his eyes. You turn your head to face him, breaking your eye contact in the reflection. He turns back to face you, tongue sliding across his lips. He looks even better outside of his reflection. His eyes are sparkling, but you can’t tell a word of what they are trying to tell you. 

“I thought you wanted to watch the movie?” He waits to reply. Humming thoughtfully.

“I got distracted.”

You giggle. “By what? Is there something on my face?”

“Yes”

What??? That was way too fast. Was he really staring at you because there was something on your face? You furrow your brows and bring your sleeve up to your mouth before a hand tugs at your wrist gently.

“You are so gullible.”

That smirk is so hot.

You scoff “Asshole!”

He flashes a sweet smile, his hand not letting go of your wrist. “You know you love me.”

“Yeah, whatever,” You giggle.

And now you're trapped. Who is going to look back at the screen first? Stuck smiling at each other, looking into each other's eyes. 

He breaks eye contact first, but not in the way that would have benefited your sanity. Your lips. He is sitting there. No space between the two of you. Staring at your lips. 

“You know. You are really beautiful, right?”

Why is he saying that? He usually doesn’t get drunk that easily.

“You’re drunk.”

“Maybe.”

Look back at the laptop. PLEASE look back at the laptop.

No, the laptop, not your eyes.

‘I really can’t stay

Baby, it’s cold outside.’

His eyes seem different. Does he really think you are beautiful? You have to, being an idol anyway? Right?

Something is pulling you closer. Did he sneak magnets into the chicken? Back up. You have to back up.

You don’t back up.

And when soft, slightly cracked lips are pressed onto yours, you let it happen. You move in closer. This is perfect. NO, this is wrong, you shouldn’t be doing this.

It has been years since your last kiss, your last real kiss.

A thumb presses gently into your chin. 

What the fuck is happening? I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this. How the fuck did you get here? His mouth tastes like beer. When did his tongue slip between your lips?

‘The neighbors might think

Baby, it’s bad out there.’

So many fucking questions are running through your mind. 

His hair is so soft. 

‘Say, what’s in this drink?

No cabs to be had out there.’

This can’t just be a kiss. It feels like more. More is happening, and you have no idea what. Oblivious to the world around you.

After a hum escapes your lips, you feel your stomach drop.

Cold. 

His thumb is gone. His lips are gone. The hand on your wrist is gone.

No. No. No. Come back!

You release the grip on his hair.

Why isn’t he looking at you?

“Fuck…”

-- -- --

Series Masterlist . Next Chapter>

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed!! If you didn't already guess, this is inspired by a story J-Hope told (I don't remember were). Obviously, I made up my own timeline & events but that is where I got the idea! Hopefully you will like it...

© rottingbedpost  do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[intheorangebedroom]

Tonight you belong to me

Series, complete

Summary: He comes to you every Friday, in a shady motel on the outskirts of town. 

Week after week, under the crushing weight of his body, you learn to find yourself. Week after week, under the reverence of your touch, he allows himself to heal. Why can’t this last forever, when you’re so good to each other?

Set a few months after the TF events. 

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC fem!Reader Written in reader format but Reader is an OFC. There are sparse but still present physical descriptions, she has a thorough background, and a name.

Rating: Explicit 🔞

TW: THERE WILL BE NO TRIGGER WARNINGS ON INDIVIDUAL CHAPTERS. So please tread carefully because there will be (blood) (kidding, just mine) mentions of: PTSD, death, infidelity, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, stomach bug & hospitalization, light bondage, rough sex, size kink taken to the next level, lots of bodily fluids (come spit and sweat, sweat come and spit, the usual suspects), questionable (very bad) decisions, unprotected sex like woa, intense darker Frankie, where’s my feminism at, this man, this man, this man. You know the drill.

A/N: alright orange besties, here we go again, I once more locked up Frankie in a bedroom with a girl... More or less an alternate exploration of my favourite tropes: love at first sight, soulmates, forever love, pleasure and pain, hard sex/sweet love, flourishing through a lover's care and attention, Frankie being a B I G boy... Are you in? 🥺 Also, I’ve never set a foot in Florida, bear with me, I'm trying my best. This is going to be a little rougher kind of Frankie, but still our Pilot™️. I hope you enjoy the flight 🧡 

A very special and heartfelt orange THANK YOU to my love @deadmantis for the moodboards & inspos that went straight into the header for this series 🧡 Deadmantis, I love you in every colour.

Chapters

Prologue - In The Beginning

Chapter 1 - Dirt

Drabble - Wrecked

Chapter 2 - Closer

Chapter 3 - The Man At The Frontier

Chapter 4 - Frankie

Chapter 5 - Time In A Bottle

Chapter 6 - Never Let Me Go

Epilogue - In The Beginning

Playlist

[nitrowyverine]

I thought playing Obscura would help me get rid of my brain worms. no, it just gave me new ones. For Obscura, specifically.

I'll be adjusting the format from my TOUCHSTARVED expanded thoughts post. Brain dump after the cut!

[Demo/CH 1 spoilers are included]

(Header Image from Itch.io page! All images in this post are either from there or the Rotten Raccoons tumblr page)

Design/gameplay thoughts:

In full honesty without fluff: this game fucks immensely.

The setting for Obscura might be my new all-time favorite, like, ever. Mystery underground scandalous marketplace??? Under a mountain???? it's a diverse and vast city that's still elegantly contained and claustrophobic, but in a spicy way. The worldbuilding and flavor is excellent. I really want to run a TTRPG in a similar setting now, since its an area with so many possibilities.

CH. 1/the "demo" has a LOT of meat on it. It's got different endings, variations, a whole soundtrack. Speaking of sountrack-

Obscura is also one of the few games I've put on the soundtrack to just to vibe to. The soundtrack is SO good, and sets such a strong mood/tone. I think it complements the game perfectly.

Allot of people have mentioned it, but I am also a fan of the Safeword pause menu. It's a nice and comforting touch, especially when the game can get so intense. It lets players take a breather if they need it, but also doesn't interrupt the intensity/mood of the game for someone who doesn't want a break from the narrative.

Now, onto character specific thoughts!

Cirrus:

IN MY HOUSE WE DON'T BELIEVE IN NOT STARTING OUT STRONG

Shout outs for having your asexual option in the dating sim be. The kinkiest guy there

Cirrus is a bit too intense for me, however, that is NOT a bad thing in the slightest. I think his route is well done for those who are up for his brand of intensity.

I might still play his route because. damn this boy's issues got me curious about his backstory. ($10 on mommy issues)

I had the hardest time getting to Cirrus's good end during my playthrough because having pretty much any self-preservation instinct around Cirrus gives you a bad/neutral ending. He's the only one I had to pull the guide out to get the best ending. (I think I'm just too sassy)

I get medusa vibes from Cirrus. The snake imagery is more likely tied to the lunar church, but his staunch reluctance to take his own mask off makes me wonder (this is mainly referenced in asks answered by the Rotten Raccoon studios). Refusal to let people see his eyes + snakes + power + slightly unnatural abilities to influence is, something.

I am shaking this man like a snowglobe WHAT IS YOUR DEAL I MUST KNOW MORE

(I am. metaphorically shaking him like a snowglobe. I would never shake this man im terrified)

CONCLUSION: Most likely to shame you for your anime choices. Least likely to be normal about it when you ask for help peeling an orange.

Keir:

HERE COMES BIG MAN

yeah he's tied for favorite right now. the slow burn in his plot is just too good? big man....freckles...secret soft side...im weak

he's so nice I keep forgetting. He kind of kidnaps you? not even kind of he just drags you off the street and goes "you live in my house now". Even Griff calls MC a stray early on. My man really said "Here's a convenient lost human I'm dragging them home now"

oh my GOD they were ROOMATES

I definitely was too nice to him in my first playthrough until I realized he does need (and want) to be sassed to death.

this man is like 6'6 and the canon-ish Vesper height from the CG is 5'4. THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE. This kills the man (me)

The sprite of Keir's ears blushing SENDS ME INTO A FRENZY

I quite liked the gameplay style of Keir's route. I was so focused and invested as soon as I realized I needed to remember specific directions to save the heist group during timed decisions

Something I haven't seen discussed yet: I'm mega curious about the dagger Keir has on his outfit. It's specifically pointed out in text that it's high-quality, and I vaguely remember an ask that Rotten Raccoons answered that said it's a status symbol. (The dagger also just looks SO cool. and....it looks like Francesco's...?)

(My bet is that he either 1. stole it. or 2. got it from Oleander during their tryst (WHICH WE ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT-))

CONCLUSION: Most likely to be gifted a "WORLD'S BEST DAD" mug from his similarly-aged peers. Least likely to live down that one time he ate soap because he thought it was edible.

Francesco:

someone keep the "silver dust" away from this lad im scared

Originally, I was least looking forward to playing Francesco's route since I just wasn't interested in his initial concept. After playing his route though? It was excellently done, and I genuinely had fun. It was refreshing to have a character more naive than Vesper, so more cultural aspects were explained and we got a good alternate perspective on the marketplace. Also, it got REAL spicy in new and exciting ways the other chapters didn't. I'm really looking forward to the next chapters with his route!

I totally love the contrasts in his design and his character. He's got both bright red and blue highlights in his design, his outfit is very pointy and angular while his hair/smile is soft and flow-y.

And in his personality, he's both sweet and open, but extremely cagey about some information, and quite pragmatic when he wants to be. I think he's way smarter than he lets on.

that doesn't mean I don't want to bridal carry him and tuck him into bed at night after a all-nighter party

I do think Fran's slightly looser demeanor could lead to him being even more brutal than the other LI's. Remember that one anime clip (Found it, it's this one from Danshi Koukousei) where a group of friends wants to fight for fun, but one of the friends asks why they need rules in a fight? And said friend is shown like secretly holding a rock and was ready to use it? that's Fran. He would not have chill and does not heed the rules.

"Protect the boy", but mostly to prevent him from tasting blood. Because if that happens we're all fucked

CONCLUSION: Most likely to eat that M&M off the ground because you dared him. Least likely to beat the puppy allegations.

Oleander:

Oleander is tied for favorite with Keir. Oleander is just *chefs kiss* LOOK AT HIM. inscrutable......

Somewhere in an ask answered by Rotten Raccoons studio, they mentioned that for Oleander's route, they were going for a "Sexy boss situation that doesn't feel like a work safety violation". They hit that right on the nose; there's intrigue and a power imbalance, but in a non-restrictive or terrifying way.

I love being involved in the business part of his route. I keep making decisions like "Hmm yes my primary goal is to romance Oleander. But what would be the smartest business move here? How do we advance our agenda?"

Also, I do love playing a sexy evil secretary in a vn. love having a job and being evil at it AND being paid money. 10/10

That dance scene is everything I could have ever wanted no notes

I am fascinated to find out more about what he's been up to since his last trek into the marketplace. Seems like people are trying to kill him all the time anyway, so what would be enough to cause him to leave?

he's like an angler fish, but the lure is his booba

I relate to Oleander in that. I have too many online usernames because I can't stick with one. People get my 800 online names mixed up often. He has the same problem, we're basically twinsies

This man is pretending to be a himbo like his life depends on it (It probably does). He's too smart though, I know for a fact he has at least three different schemes going at any given time.

CONCLUSION: Most likely to be able to help you properly lace a corset (this man knows the boot-to-the-back necessity of the process). Least likely to be allowed to be banker during monopoly night.

Vesper:

black mask enjoyer 4 life

(all three are good I just wanted to say which one I picked. And to add my conclusion section)

CONCLUSION: Most likely to get their shit rocked by a falling piano. Least likely to survive an argument about pineapple on pizza.

Concerns:

With how separate the four routes are, the game could potentially feel like four separate visual novels all in one universe. Maybe I haven't played enough VN's, but there is a feeling of separation between the routes.

In the very beginning of the game, when you're picking your route, I wish there was a bit more heads up/information between who you're picking. For example, I had a rough idea that going into the church is where you'd find Cirrus, but only from information outside the game. I didn't know sticking around for the brawl would push you into Kier's route. It's overall pretty vague to which route you're going based on only in-game information.

Misc thoughts:

Vesper: "How are you going to keep me?? ;)" Keir and Oleander: "crimes" Vesper: "Wh-" Keir and Oleander: "you're an accomplice now congrats we're in this together. wanna get drinks"

catch my socially anxious ass wanting to be under the mountain and wear masks so I don't have to make eye contact with strangers all the time. at least its a fun thought to have when I mask for covid

OKAY FRANCESCO AND KEIR'S DAGGER MATCH? AND ARE RED/BLUE LIKE FRANCESCOS OUTFIT? DOES IT MEAN ANYTHING??? probably not but I do like the pretty knives....

For real, I got the brain worms for this game, I'm on the edge of making a big ol playlist. the headcannons? They go on my friend. they go on. I'm laying awake at night thinking about what each character would order at a coffee shop

by the time I publish this post. I did start working on the playlist

yes, I've also designed my own vesper, its such a prime opportunity for character design.

Obscura also may or may not have inspired me to get involved with an otome jam game team, more on that in the future possibly.....

OVERALL: I got the first chapter/demo of Obscura for free from Itchio/steam. High marks for writing, sound, art, game design, all of it! I am on the edge of my seat waiting for CH2.

TL;DR: If you haven't played it, and love spicy and dark stories, go play it! Part one is free! and fantastic.

Itch.io

Steam

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part ten)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: the final resolution, at a funeral, of all places.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, minor character death, topics of grief, alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail, use of pet names, — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

a note from me: hello friends, it’s been a while. apologies for the radio silence and for living this fic unfinished until now. life just happens and surprise, i had a whole ass baby last year (call me mother). postpartum is not easy and it especially has not been kind on my mental health, so i took time to get my pink back while taking care of another human. i appreciate you sticking with me and being patient - this is for you!

“This is all my fault.”

Unsurprisingly, Eddie blames himself. He always does. Even if he isn’t the one to be held liable. Call it insecurity, whatever. Eddie Munson just believed, from a very young age, that he was a walking magnet for all things unlucky.

Certain events occurred for no reason the brunette could explain, other than there being an unknown higher power had it out against him, which he’d often say to Wayne in hopes of some show of sympathy or a lesser reprimand. And even though, for the most part, Wayne agreed with his nephew, there were certain tricky situations for which the young Munson boy only had himself to blame. „Bad decisions lead to bad outcomes”, Wayne would mutter at the dinner table as Eddie sat, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his swollen eye. 

His luck had briefly changed once he accidentally became friends with Chrissy Cunningham.

The preppy blonde offered him kindness — not something he’s been privy to before, especially not from the Hawkins upper class. Chrissy didn’t care about his upbringing, his social status, living conditions, or his style. She stood up for him in front of the rest of Hawkins’ finest on more than one occasion, pure acts of heart that to this day many of the townsfolk believe cost the cheerleader her life.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie exhales, then repeats, “this is all my fucking fault.” Panic detectable in the sound of his voice.

“Stop that,” Marianne insists in a whisper, eyes focused on the rockstar as he paces, hands deep in the pockets of his black tailored trousers. 

He sighs. “If I had never gotten involved—”

“Eddie, I mean it.” Marianne cuts in. “This is most definitely not your fault and none of the people gathered here today believe that it is.” She tries her best to reassure her favourite client. “I know that may be hard for you to believe considering what you told me recently…” 

There’s a pause.

“No one thinks this is your fault, Eddie.”

“She does,” the rockstar says simply, ending the conversation. He then pushes through the double doors that lead inside the church.

The silence inside is agonising. Almost suffocating. Patrons dressed head to toe in all shades of black, staring blankly ahead at the altar. Staring at the open casket which was surrounded by floral arrangements made from dozens of white roses.

Eddie looks ahead, toward the front row, where the family is sitting. Your family. From oldest to youngest, all of your siblings, shoulder to shoulder: Caroline, Valentine, Amelia, and little Jonah in your father’s arms. Your mother is a little removed. She’s at the end of the row and by the way her body is shaking, Eddie can tell she’s crying — understandably so.

There’s a lot to be said about death. Eddie knew that first hand. 

Chrissy’s death, for example, was an event that forever changed the trajectory of his miserable life. The accusations, the mob mentality, all of that was the push the brunette boy needed to finally get out of town and make something of himself. Escape. Although, it could have gone either way. He knew that, he wasn’t a complete idiot. It took a long time for the rockstar to come to terms with what happened that night. And even now, years later, Eddie knew that back in Hawkins, he’d forever be blamed for something he didn’t do.

“None of the people gathered here today believe that it is.” Marianne’s words from just moments ago echo in his ears as he desperately tries to get a grasp on his feelings.

This was the third funeral Eddie has ever attended. Second, if you count the fact that the boy was far too young to remember that of his mother’s and it’s not like Wayne ever shared any details. Actually the first funeral because although Chrissy’s burial was a day the brunette rockstar could never forget, he wasn’t entirely welcome there. That didn’t stop him, of course. He did not make his presence known. Instead, Eddie hid between the trees at the cemetery, watching from afar. 

Seemingly, the entire town was there which made the young Munson boy angry ‘cause these people didn’t care for Chrissy. They were all phonies. Acting like they knew her when in fact, if asked, they wouldn’t even be able to say what her favourite colour was. Eddie knew her. He really knew her. In fact, Chrissy told him so many times. “I think you’re my only true friend, Eddie.” She admitted one afternoon. “You know, it’s quite lonely being the most popular girl in school. With you though, I don’t feel so alone.”

The memory makes his heart hurt. More so because it’s been locked away for years. Hidden in a metaphoric box that the rockstar swore he’d never reopen. Recently though, considering the circumstances, Chrissy has been on his mind a lot more. Her big blue eyes, her bouncy blonde ponytail. Her smile, her laugh. The sound of her voice. Her kind heart. Recently, Eddie’s been thinking about his friend quite often. Thinking about how he wasn’t allowed to say a proper goodbye.

Goodbye…

“What are you doing here?” 

His head snaps up at the question, brown locks bouncing with the sudden movement. He quickly looks around, but no one else currently inside the church seems to be paying attention to him, or to you. And you… You’re staring at him, waiting for an answer. 

“I-I came to pay my respects.” It seems rather obvious, although maybe not.

All you do is nod. 

Eddie notices how you’ve been crying. On instinct, he reaches for your hand. He wants to offer you comfort. Some solace amongst all of this sadness. To his surprise, you don’t pull away. In fact, you allow your fingers to tangle themselves amongst his and when the rockstar squeezes, once, gently, your whole body seems to relax.

“I am truly sorry for your loss.”

You respond with a timid smile. It’s not much, but it’s all you can muster. 

Thursday, October 14. Time? 9:27pm. That’s when you got the call. Your strangely composed father broke the news. An accident. You could hear sirens in the background. He was driving. Someone ran a red light. He was okay. Time seemed to slow as he continued. “Sweetheart, your Nana… Can you pick up your mom and meet us at the hospital?”

The older woman had never looked so frail. Bandaged up. Connected to all sorts of wires and tubes, monitors that beeped so loud you thought your brain was going to explode, machines that were essentially keeping her alive. Your Nana’s eyes were closed when you walked in and for the next three days. You took turns sitting by her side. Talking to her, reading her favourite gossip columns, Val even repainted her nails while Caroline always made sure her hair was brushed and perfect.

News of the accident spread. The hospital room quickly filled with bouquets of flowers and various ‘Get Well Soon’ cards — one of which was signed by Eddie.

Once he heard about what happened, the Corroded Coffin frontman dipped early from his own album release party to fly back to New York as fast as he could. Yes, your grandmother has made it nearly impossible for him to be with you, but at the end of the day, she was still your family and you were undoubtedly hurting. Setting his own feelings aside, he wanted to be there for you. Simple.

If you weren’t at the hospital, you were curled up in bed, crying into Eddie’s chest. 

Then you got the call.

Your Nana was awake.

Doctors later explained her sudden surge in energy as terminal lucidity. In the moment however, no one questioned the miracle that brought her back to you and your family. No one batted an eye. Just happy to see her eyes open and hear the snark in her tone of voice. If only for a few hours, she was back to her old self. 

“I’m going to get some more coffee.” With a gentle squeeze to your Nana’s hand, your mom exits the hospital room leaving you briefly alone with the matriarch of your family.

There’s a split second of silence during which you contemplate telling her how scared you were that she was going to die, but you stop yourself because there’s no need to burden her mind with such horrific thoughts.

Although, your Nana seems to read your mind.

“Please don’t fill your pretty head with worry,” she says reassuringly, “I know I gave you all quite the scare, but it’ll take a lot more than some car crash to take me out.”

“Don’t joke like that.” It comes out rather flat.

“Then smile for me, my darling.”

You abide by her request, lips twirling upwards for your Nana to see. She mirrors your expression and for the next twenty seconds, all is good again in the world. She really wasn’t going anywhere. You didn’t have to be scared anymore.

“Now that we got that out of the way,” she says matter-of-factly, “This little accident I found myself in did force me to rethink my behaviour with regards to a few things.”

You shake your head. “You don’t have to do that here.”

She ignores you. “I do have to, and want to, come clean about something I did.”

With a swift exhale — for added courage — your Nana spills her shame. Once you hear Eddie’s name escape her tired lips, you sort of black out. Only hearing fragments that don’t entirely make sense to you. Something about bias and her distaste towards the metalhead. Chrissy Cunnigham. The blackmail. The breakup. Your breakup. There’s puzzle pieces missing. Yet even without the borders, even through the haze of the moment, you got fragments of an answer to why Eddie ended things that second time. 

The woman you cherished, the woman you had to thank for your entire career, was unfortunately the same woman who came between you and happiness. She made a choice for you. A choice that ended with you bed bound for weeks. Heartbroken. A recluse.

As she squeezes your hand, through tears in your eyes, you ask her if it was worth it. Forcing Eddie to hurt you like that.

Unfortunately, you never get an answer.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The room fills with doctors and nurses faster than you can realise what’s happening. They’re asking you to move out of the way, so you do. You stand at the wall, arms tight against your heaving chest, and you watch, terrified, as the professionals do everything in their power to keep your grandmother alive.

But the beeping doesn’t stop. Not exactly. Instead it slows. Flatlines. 

At some point, your mom had returned to the room. She’s panicked, asking what happened. You don’t know what to say, pushing yourself further into the wall behind you, hoping it would swallow you whole — it doesn’t. 

Chest heaving, you don’t know how to act, what to do. In the blink of an eye, the space of a single breath, your Nana passed away. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. “She was fine”, you find yourself saying, but no one is listening. The nurses unplugging her lifeless body from all of the machines, while the doctor speaks with your mom, calmly explaining what could’ve caused the sudden change in your grandmother's state.

“She was fine,” you repeat, but don’t move from your spot. Instead, you close your eyes to hold back the tears.

The sadness was imminent. The anger however, well, the anger overwhelmed you.

Your Nana, this human you idolised for your entire life, the person who helped you and shaped you into who the world deemed worthy, the woman who always had your back, turned out to be a liar. She was no better than any of the other leeches who had befriended you only to mooch off your success. 

Whatever her reasonings were at the time, she put your happiness aside by threatening your career. Something you’d never thought she’d do. And what was worse, she made a decision for you, then kept it a secret for months on end. 

Her and Eddie.

The rockstar is waiting for you when you get home — like he has been every night since the accident. You find him in the kitchen, cooking. He turns when you walk in and immediately drops the wooden spoon in his hand, wiping his fingers on the denim of his jeans before pulling you into a hug.

Eddie is the epitome of comfort, that much you’re sure of. But you don’t immediately return the embrace because your mind is confused. He lied, in a way. He said he wasn’t the relationship type and that’s the reason he can’t be with you officially. Now you know that’s not entirely true.

The Corroded Coffin frontman senses your apprehension, though before he gets a chance to ask what’s wrong, half formed sentences are spilling from your mouth into the crook of his neck.

“She’s dead.”, “She told me—.”, “The blackmail…” , “Why didn’t you?”, “She died— She died before I-I could get the full story.” “Eddie, what the hell—”

You pull away slowly, then wipe your eyes with the sleeves of your cashmere sweater. Eddie’s hand travels to your cheek ‘cause he doesn’t want to let you go, afraid that if you take even one step away from him, you’ll never find your way back.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he whispers and you nod. “And I’m sorry for all the lies.”

“Eddie—”

“Please,” he interrupts, “I-I promise I will explain everything to you, but right now,” the rockstar pulls you in for another hug, “you should get some sleep.”

You nod against his chest and let him lead you across the apartment, towards your bedroom. Like a knight in shining armour, Eddie helps you into bed, taking off your shoes in the process and placing them gently at the corner of the bed. He covers you up with the soft duvet before closing all of the blinds and making himself comfortable next to you.

Before you know it, your eyes are closing. You let tiredness win.

When you wake up, some fourteen hours or so later, the Corroded Coffin frontman is nowhere to be found. Just a note on your bedside table with the words, I’m sorry. I swear I’ll explain my side of the story in time, but right now, it’s best if you’re with your family. I don’t want to get in the way of your family.

Fuck him.

-

“I am truly sorry for your loss.” Eddie’s words are sincere, you can tell by the slight tremble in his voice. “She may not have been my biggest fan, but I know she loved you.”

“I doubt that.”

He shakes his head. “She loved you, that’s why she did all that she did.”

“You promised you’d explain.”

“I don’t think this is the time—”

“It’s never the right time with you.” You say harshly while looking away, at the crowd of people that knew your Nana at one point during her adventurous life. “Excuse me,” you add without glancing at him again and walk in the direction of your family.

The service is beautiful. 

You fight back tears throughout, knowing that there’s always someone lurking, trying to catch you crying for a picture they can later sell to the tabloids for hundreds of dollars. And you do a good job hiding your emotions because that’s what you were always taught to do in public situations. Taught so by the very woman your family was mourning today. You feel her presence strongly in that moment, as you bite the inside of your cheek. You can hear her voice inside your head, telling you to straighten your back and hold your head high, “Never let them know what you are thinking.”. Instead, you’re trying your best to focus on the eulogies. 

Your father speaks first. With your little brother steadily in his arms, he reads a letter written by your mother, who was too distraught to come up and read it on her own. His pace is slow as he enunciates every single syllable — something he only ever does when he’s angry or sad. When he’s done, he looks at your crying mother and mouths, I’m sorry, I love you, before stepping off the altar and letting your older sister take his place at the stand.

“My grandmother was a remarkable woman.” Caroline clears her throat into the microphone. She’s equally as composed as you, although the smudged mascara in the corner of her eyes gives away tears she shed before the funeral started.

Caroline continues, “She led an amazing life, although not without its challenges. She overcame it all with grit and wit — qualities she tried to pass onto us, her grandchildren.”

She pauses. Almost as if she’s hesitant to keep going.

“I’m sure each and every one of you here today has a story to share on how my grandmother touched your life. She was a friend to all and an enemy to some.” That earned my sister some laughs. “Her priority had always been our family and now that she’s gone, we definitely feel a void. I for one don’t know if I can still be the same person I was when she was here.”

Caroline finishes with a prayer. She then strides towards the front aisle and retakes her seat next to you. She squeezes your hand, sympathy and encouragement, as you take in a deep breath and stand. 

Everything feels in slow motion during the fifty-odd seconds it takes you to stand where your older sister just stood. You retrieve a piece of paper from inside the sleeve of your couture black jacket and lay it flatly in front of you. The words blur in front of your eyes but only for a split second. “Never let them know what you are thinking.”, and so you don’t.

“Our parents give us life. Our grandparents give us a sense of who we are and where we come from,” you begin. “This week, as we said goodbye to my dear Nana, it hit me how incredibly lucky I have been to have her, not only with me, but as an integral part of who I’ve become in my life.”

“Without my Nana, I’d still be singing Dusty Springfield in my bedroom. I wouldn’t know how to play any musical instruments and the poems I’ve written over the years, well, they’d remain just that. As the incredible matriarch, the regal leader in our family, she pushed all of us grandkids to strive for greatness. Without her, we’d be just another family. Faces lost in the sea of New Yorkers. I know I speak for all of my siblings when I say that thanks to our warrior Nana, we learned who we really are and we are able to live our lives without—”

You pause and look up at the crowd, your eyes first landing on the front row, your family, then further, until they meet a certain brown pair. Eddie offers an encouraging smile and even though there are many things running through your mind about what he and your Nana have done, your lips tilt upward to return half the expression.

“We can live our lives freely,” you change the sentence before continuing, “And even though she’s no longer with us physically, I can still feel her presence. She’ll be with me forever.”

As you wrap up your eulogy, the piano begins playing soft notes of You Decorated My Life by Kenny Rogers. Your father stands along with five other men and they take their place by the casket, lifting it carefully then carrying it out of the church.

-

“Your eulogy was really beautiful.”

Eddie’s voice breaks you away from your thoughts.

The rockstar is leaning against the doorframe of your teenage bedroom, where you’ve come to hide from all of the people gathered in your parents house for the wake. There’s a shaded smile present on his face, kindness behind his eyes. You instantly feel warm.

“It’s hard to be angry at someone who’s given you so much.”

“So you’re just angry with me then?” He probes, stepping inside and gently kicking the door shut with his heel.

Shaking your head, you say, “No, I’m not angry with you, Eddie,” then sigh, “I think I’m just disappointed.”

“That’s probably worse,” he admits.

You pat the blanketed spot next to you, inviting him to sit down. He does so without hesitation and when his arm brushes against yours, you instantly lean your head against his shoulder. 

“I just wish you trusted me enough to tell me the truth. Allow me to make my own decision.”

Eddie nods. “I get it. I guess I was just scared you’d think I was making it all up, trying to paint your grandmother as someone she isn’t.” 

For a moment, it’s quiet. The afternoon light seeps in through the half-closed curtains, offering a glow that you’ve only ever witnessed in Eddie’s Hidden Hills home.

“Why did you leave that night? When she died, I woke up and all I had instead of the person I really needed beside me was a sorry excuse for a note.”

He doesn’t immediately answer and that frightens you. A thought crosses your mind that he’s still hiding something — which would be crazy since it was your Nana who seemingly orchestrated everything.

“Yeah, that was an asshole move on my part.” He admits, “I uh, I was scared that when you woke up, you’d be twice as angry about this whole debacle with your grandmother that you wouldn’t let me tell you my side of the story.”

“So, your gut instinct was to run?”

“Always is, sweetheart.”

You scoff. 

“I wanted to give you the space to grieve and understand your own emotions first before I loaded more shit onto you,” Eddie says honestly.

There’s a split second of silence.

“Can you tell me everything now?”

“If that’s what you want.”

You lift your head, tilting it so that your eyes catch his. 

“I want to move on with our lives and that can only happen when I have the full picture.”

Eddie raises a brow. “Our lives?”

“Yes,” you say, taking his ring-clad fingers in yours, “Ours.”

-

“That’s the moment I really knew I can never let her go again,” Eddie says, hand on your thigh.

The interviewer clicks her pen, satisfied with all of the information the two of you have given her over the last few hours. She lets out a content sigh to prove as much before leaning forward slightly, over her crossed legs. 

“I gotta say, you guys are my favourite Hollywood couple.”

“Thank you,” you say with a smile, then glance at Eddie. “We also think quite highly of ourselves.”

“That we most certainly do,” the Corroded Coffin frontman agrees with your sentiment and beams at you affectionately. Your heart soars.

It has been almost one whole year since your Nana passed and you know she’s rolling in her grave ‘cause of how much you’ve accomplished with the rockstar by your side. 

After the funeral, Eddie agreed with Marianne, his label, and most importantly, his bandmates, to stay in New York while you finished filming for Law & Order. He took the occasional trips back to the West Coast for photo and video shoots along with management meetings, but for the most part he was by your side, day and night. He came with you to set, championing you on this new journey from singer to actress.

When filming for your character wrapped, you packed a big suitcase and joined him on tour. You’ve never really gotten to go on a road trip. Whenever you went on tour for your albums, it was from the private plane to the venue to the hotel, repeat, repeat, repeat. Being on a tour bus with Eddie and his friends, in a different American city every other night — all while getting to watch Eddie do what he does best, on that stage, in front of thousands of screaming fans — was somewhat also a dream come true for you. 

During that time, you finally met Eddie's uncle, Wayne. He came to the show in Indianapolis, watching the performance with you from backstage. Afterwards, Wayne spilled about one thousand secrets and stories from Eddie’s childhood. Some heartfelt, some more delinquent. From the time young Eddie broke his arm while trying to save a stray cat from a tree, and the countless times a teenage Eddie would sneak out to sell weed at rich kids parties.

You fell for him harder then, and even more with each day that passed.

Months later, when the Assistance is Futile tour had its final show in Los Angeles, you told Eddie you weren’t going back to New York: “If you’ll find space for me in that big mansion of yours, that is.”. The brown-eyed rockstar smiled wide at your words, then said: “Our mansion, sweetheart.”.

While you brushed up on your acting skills, landing more and more television and movie roles, Eddie got to work on his third album with Corroded Coffin. That’s when he found the notebooks. Lyrics for songs the two of you had written during your summer together, before your grandmother meddled and it all went to shit. He brought them to you, a twinkle in his eyes.

“I know you’re transitioning away from singing, but hear me out…”

That’s how The Popular Kids was born. Corroded Coffin’s third studio album, with one twist. You.

Which brought you both here, to the interview at Eddie’s Hidden Hills home that has, over a short period of time, also become your home.

“Well, it was great to chat with you two today. Get to know you a little more intimately,” the interviewer says, “Your entire relationship has been very secretive up until this point.”

“Well, this business can be quite cut-throat and there’s very little privacy, which we know is what we both signed up for when we first got into the industry,” Eddie begins, he’s unbelievably natural, he’s made for this — being a star, “The little things, well, we just wanted them to be between us.”

The interviewer nods.

“That’s a little lie, no?”

“What do you mean?” You ask as innocently as you possibly can, because even though you’ve shared a lot of stories today, you haven’t given the whole truth. That remains between you, the rockstar, and your Nana (God rest her soul).

She doesn’t push, quite unlike any other journalist that you have ever come across. Instead, she says how a photographer will be over tomorrow for the shoot and reconfirms that you’ll be the cover of the October issue. 

Eddie sees her out and when you’re alone, he asks if you’re happy that you two did this.

“Apprehensive, sure. But yes, happy.”

“Good.” He leans down to plant a kiss on your temple. “I’m happy too and the world deserves to know just how happy you make me,” he adds while trailing kisses along your cheekbones and down your jaw.

You smile. “I don’t think they should know that much.”

“No?” Eddie’s teasing.

“Some things are better kept private,” you murmur into his ear, “Like how you corrupted me at that pool party.”

“And I’ll continue corrupting you for as long as you’ll let me, sweetheart. Getting under your celebrity skin until the end of time. That’s a promise.”

celebrity skin. masterlist

thank you to all that have been following this story from the beginning and to everyone that has come along the way — i appreciate you more than words can say!

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg , @hereforshmut , @eg-dr3amer3 , @rexorangecouny , @morganlolitta , @littlexdeaths , @bl0ssomanddie, @doritodynasty (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

[mikashisus]

BAD IDEA RIGHT?

summary: a year after your terrible breakup with alhaitham, you decide to make the awful decision of hooking up with your ex again. after many failed attempts, you gave up on dating entirely and allowed for a strict “just benefits” relationship with alhaitham. however, you soon realized this was a disastrous mistake, as the rules you set in place came crashing down one by one…

pairing: alhaitham x fem!reader

content warnings: angst, drinking, innuendos, kys/kms jokes, toxicity, slut shaming, cyberbullying — (more added later if needed).

other disclaimers: MDNI. smau, uni au, mc is kind of a bitch!, totally not me projecting my autistic relationship struggles onto alhaitham haha… ; loud and quiet trope, all pictures used are placeholders only and are not meant to dictate the mc’s race or appearance.

🌷 — profiles ;

chappell roan fanclub | big time rush

ACT ONE. bad idea right?

01. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 02. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 03. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 04. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 05.

06. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 07. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 08. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 09. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 10.

ACT TWO. hot to go!

11. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 12. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 13. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 14. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 15.

16. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 17. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 18. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 19. ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ 20.

notes: header made by yours truly <3 it took so long for me to make bc i kept being nitpicky about which fonts to use and where to place things. it turned out great in the end me thinks! this series is upcoming, so pls be patient while i work on the first 3 chapters. if u’d like to join my disc server to chat and hangout, u can do so here!

taglist — open ; (i will only add u if u have ur age visible on ur acc where i can see it. minors who interact will be blocked.) @nrviine @winterpein @arraxthatsonjah @peaches-are-sweet @3cst4syy

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #17] Jeon Jungkook

warnings: WELL WELL WELL. mentions of the red witch. post-gym kook. questionable conversations that shouldn't happen between friends, totally normal touching of genitals to prove points in aforementioned conversations, kitchen escapades, whiny koo <3 titty worship, spanking, titty sucking, fingering, a lil mutual masturbation, cockwarming (or at least an attempt!), unprotected sex, jk on top, the starluvrs are bad at maths!, multiple positions (prone bone my beloved <3), he finishes on her back, lovely stuff!! just friendly tho!

a/n: the header image is another lost relic, but this time i can't even remember the base photo </3

soundtrack: just a little bit - enhypen

wc: 11.2k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

The soft cotton duvet cover on Jeongguk's bed welcomes you back far more warmly than it really should do; like a 'hi, honey, welcome home' , or an 'I've missed you'.  

It's fitting that the inanimate objects of his room carry such benevolence, when he himself is an open log fire on a winter's night. Warm, warm, warm is Jeon Jeongguk, and you've been cold, cold, cold for so long that the sudden heat is almost jarring.

That's how you justify the obscure feeling in the pit of your stomach when Jeongguk starts talking about blind dates, and how he always wanted to go on one when he was younger.

He reckons that the only reason that he hadn't was because he's 'a simple man of simple pleasures'.  

The hoops he needed to jump through to get a blind date - quite simply just asking someone to set it up for him - had been too challenging. You've alleviated that stress for him.

"See," you smile, folding his bird back up and tossing it over to him. You're both on his bed, staring up at the flock of birds still soaring above you, just out of reach. "We're fulfilling a childhood dream. You are getting something out of this whole deal."

You don't look at him, but you know he rolls his eyes and smiles when he does so. "Never said I wasn't, Disco Ball."

He's met with silence as you glance over at him. It's not an unwelcome nickname, but it's one he doesn't use too often these days. Always calls you Byeol.

"What?" he asks and he turns to face you when you don't reply, but you say nothing.

The more you let it simmer, the worse it gets. He's not called you Disco Ball in so long. Part of you thinks he's reducing your friendship. Addressing you like he did when he didn't know you too well. Creating distance. Forming space on a featherdown quilt that draws you both in like quicksand. He'll have to try harder if a wider margin is what he's after.

It's stupid, 'cause you know the name comes from a place of affection, but it makes you feel insecure.

"We'll still be friends, right?" You ask a little quietly. Jeongguk's brows grow taut, a slight frown forming on his features. Doesn't understand where such a question has come from. "If you get a girlfriend, I mean? We can still be friends?"

Jeongguk's skin is hot. Prickly. An automatic response to discomfort - but then his lips soften into a kind smile. Despite the offence that could be taken from you asking such a question - thinking so little of him - he's not naive to the way in which you work. He understands. People you've loved have left when things got inconvenient for them. He's been through it, too.

And so the walls that want to come up in defence are kept at bay. He doesn't let them rise. Instead, he meets you at the shores.

"Yoongi invited you to dinner," he nudges your shoulder. "Tae is practically in love with you for all the help you've given him. Dionysus relies on you drinking the bar dry every other weekend to keep it afloat. We couldn't stop being friends even if we tried."

His answer should satisfy you, yet your mind is marred by the same thought repeating over and over: Hayun probably used to get invited to dinner, too.

You aren't naive. You know his friends are just as kind as he is. They'd have welcomed anyone Jeongguk deemed important into their social circle.

"What about Hayun?"

Jeongguk frowns. "What about her?"

"Well," you say slowly, looking back up towards the birds, not wanting to watch his reaction unfold on his features like a letter of commiseration.

Before you can even articulate a reply, Jeongguk stops you.

"Don't. It's not the same. Hayun... That situation was different. Things were different. Plus, she's still my friend. Our friend. All of us. She just lives in a different city, that's all. The only reason she isn't around is because of proximity. We're still friends. Just like you and me are still gonna be friends. We've no reason not to be."

The situation is different. You're well aware of this. You've known Jeongguk for all of five minutes; she was a much more permanent fixture in his life. They had a history that you wouldn't even be able to comprehend; private jokes, and stolen moments when they thought their friends wouldn't notice. Their friends. Not just Jeongguk's.

She'd been as much a part of the friendship group as Jeongguk had been; the only difference was that she'd moved away. If she hadn't, would there even be space for you in their lives? Would Seoyeon be desperate for there to be another girl around? Would Jeongguk have felt just as fondly towards you? Would he have noticed your disco ball eyes in the dark of Dionysus or would he have been too busy searching for her in a crowded room?

Or would the time spent on you be spent on her instead?

The thought is unpleasant. It weaves its way through your bloodstream like a needle with dark red string threaded through its loop. It scratches and stabs at your insides until it breaks through the flesh of your bottom lip. Sews your mouth shut. Stops you from talking; from screaming how unfair you think it is that you're being equated to someone who destroyed him.

You don't think she deserves to be thought fondly of, but if Jeongguk knew that, you'd be the one he thinks negatively of. He leapt to her defence without you even starting an attack.

"Friends don't hurt their friends," you say quietly.

Life doesn't work that way. People hurt the ones they care about all the time - or at least you use that reasoning to comfort yourself whenever Seokjin shows up just to let you down.

"She didn't mean to," he replies. "I'm the one who caught feelings. I'm the one who misread things. She stayed the same. My hurt? It's on me, Byeol."

There's a sincerity to his voice that absolves her of blame; makes her innocent in whatever transpired between the pair of them. You know that you only have Jeongguk's side of the story, and even that is sparse and limited due to his reluctance to talk about it in any great depth, but you feel like you don't need to hear her side. He got hurt. That's enough. Your mind is made up.

Hearing him defend her so freely unnerves you. The feeling crawls beneath your skin and gnaws at your flesh. Reduces you to skin and bone.

You're silent, because you know that anything you do say will come across as mean, or as if you dislike a girl you've never met. It'd only make Jeongguk defend her more and like you less. You don't want that - as if Jeongguk wouldn't rip Seokjin to shreds at any given opportunity.

Trouble is, you can't blame him. Jeongguk has seen the impact first-hand. Wiped away tears caused by the man himself.

Hayun is just an enigma; a name rarely said, but often felt.

"What's gotten into you?" Jeongguk smiles, trying to downplay the heaviness of the atmosphere that's engulfing you both. "You're forgetting how annoying I am. You'd probably be thankful if we stopped being friends."

Though he's just teasing, you're worried that he does think that of himself. You don't want to be soppy though, so instead, you use one of his most often said phrases against him.

"I think if we stopped being friends I would simply die."

It earns a laugh. He nudges your shoulder. Tells you that you really gotta stop stealing his catchphrases and the things he does.

"Oh fuck off," you laugh. "What else have I stolen?"

A whole host of things.

"The mirror thing," is all he says, noticing your confusion immediately. He reaches over and tenderly clasps your chin. Doesn't notice the tiny gasp that gets caught in your throat - or if he does, he doesn't mention it. Turns your head, so that you're looking at him, and says " 'watch'. "

You close your eyes and smile. Nod. "Ah. That. The mirror thing. "

"See," he smirks, not that you can see. Your eyes are still closed and they'll remain that way until you decide you're no longer embarrassed. "Told you that you copy me."

"I don't copy," you smirk right back, despite your firmly shut eyes. Jeongguk likes the glitter you're wearing today. It's golden-hued. "Just a fast learner."

"Oh yeah?" he says, a laugh catching in his throat. "Watcha learnt about me?"

You whisper now, a little smug. "That you really like mirrors."

"Yeah," he concedes far more quickly than you expected him to. He turns his focus back to the birds on his ceiling, though you think he's gotten a little closer to you. "Yeah, you're right about that - but you know why I like them?"

"Pray tell," you grin, vaguely aware of the fact the conversation feels far more flirty than it really should.

"You do this thing," Jeongguk says, as a hand rests by his crotch. He's not hard, but he is a little firmer than he should be.

It's just cause he's thinking about sex. Thinking about the sound of it. The sound of you . The sight of it. Of you . The scent of it. You . Not the taste, 'cause you've not given him the luxury of that yet. He doesn't really register the fact he's pressing down on himself. Gripping. Feeling .

"It's that first look," he continues, voice dulcet. "It's like you can't register what you're seeing. Your eyes go all wide, and you look at me as if you're too nervous to look anywhere else. Dunno. Lets me know how much you like what I do. Bit of a power trip, I guess. Always gets me."

"Gets you what?"

"Hard."

The declaration is so brash that you can't help but giggle. "You hard now?"

"Thinking about it isn't the same as seeing it," Jeongguk admits, turning his head towards you - but your eyes are still closed, a smile plastered all over your face. He finds himself smiling, too. 

"But I mean..." He toys with your hand. Draws it to the top of his thighs. Gives you the chance to pull away. You don't. "Feel for yourself."

You whisper his name. 

He whispers right back. "What?"

"You know what," you tell him, as if your palm isn't right where he left it, and as if your grip isn't as firm as his cock. 

"What?" he teases again, feigning indifference - and then he fucking tenses. Moves his hips. Pushes up into your palm. "It's just anatomy, B. Nothing new."

Maybe not, but that nickname? That feels new. Feels like the opposite of him calling you disco ball earlier. Makes your breath hitch. Has him smirking as he looks at your lips. Bites down on his own. Knows this is trouble, but thinks he'd quite like to get in some.

See, you're the determined type. Once you set your mind to things, you do them. He's witnessed it first-hand multiple times. The second he mentioned the art cafe to Tae, he knew you'd make it happen. It's what you do.

And so he knows that you're setting him up that blind date whether he likes it or not. He knows you're gonna choose well for him. He knows, come this time next week, there'll probably be a moral complex that comes with the birds hanging above the pair of you.

But he's not ready for that. Not yet. 

There's so much to do. 

So many birds that haven't been set free.

A pleasant little hum vibrates in his throat as you palm the firmness beneath his sweats. His hips pulse. You daren't open your eyes - especially not as your thumb brushes against the waistband of his trousers. He hums again. Pushes his shoulders down into his mattress. Adjusts his body. Edges closer to you. Says nothing as your thumb sinks beneath the elastic of his sweats.

It doesn't go anywhere. You wait. His hips pulse.

"Swear you get off on torture," he purrs. 

"You're the one who started this," you murmur, trying to feign indifference, knowing full well that if he mirrors your hand position, he'll feel just how easily he gets you all riled up. "You're a sadist."

He just smiles. Tells you he's no such thing. 

And so you tell him to keep his eyes closed. Reach for his hand. Say, "Let's compare."

"Compare?" He husks, as if he doesn't know what you're doing. 

"Mhmm," you hum, bringing his hand dangerously close to your pussy. "Compare. You're getting off on torture. Maybe I am, too."

"We shouldn't be doing this," Jeongguk says, and yet as you loosen your grip, he's the one who lets his hand trail up your thigh. He's the one who strokes at the fabric of your sweats. He's the one who cups your pussy with his hand.

The top you're wearing has risen up a little, a small sliver of your stomach exposed - and then his thumb is caressing against it. 

His touch is warm, but the little gasp he does? The stutter of his breath? Oh, it's hot . So fucking hot.

"We're not doing anything," you say so sweetly that he'd believe it - or at least he would if it wasn't his own damn hand slipping into trousers. A breath hitches in your throat, and you can hear the ethereal way a laugh stutters in his throat.

"Just friendly, yeah?"

You nod. Whimper a pathetic confirmation - and then he's pressing against your underwear. Is slow as he rubs a single circular motion against you. 

"The birds are judging us," he tells you. 

"Nah," you shake your head. Take a shallow breath as he circles against you once more. "This is just revision."

"Revision?"

"Making sure we've learned from them. As long as - fuck ."

"You good there?" he teases, as if he didn't just up the speed for a moment. 

You ignore his question and continue the point that was so rudely interrupted by his pacing. "As long as we only do things the birds have already told us to do, then I think it's okay."

The pair of you are silent save for your tepid breaths. Jeongguk's fingers caress against the lace of your underwear while you palm at his excruciatingly hard cock. 

It's all rather juvenile, the way you're just touching each other up - and yet it's got your heartbeat racing. Perhaps it's because it's something so simple. Feels like there's so much more that could come of it. The great unknown: will you make Jeongguk cum? Or will you just blue ball him instead?

He really fucking hopes you'll choose the first option.

"Y'know," he says quietly. "I kinda need a shower."

It's not a lie. He freshened up at the gym, but didn't have a proper shower - didn't think he'd be taking such a long detour home.

"You wanna go shower?"

He nods. "Please."

It's laughable, really, the way neither of you says a word as he guides you to the bathroom. It's a regular occurrence at this point. 

You glance across the open-plan living room as you make your way to the bathroom, and smile at the painting hanging up beside the television. Jeongguk follows your gaze and smirks. 

"Think a future girlfriend would have an issue with that being up on the wall?"

"Maybe," you shrug. "You never have to tell her what is it, mind you. Never have to say it's... yanno."

"No I don't know, Byeol," he teases. Grips onto your shoulders to stop you from walking, and turns you to face it. Walks you both a little further into the sitting room area. Tilts his head, and you realise there's another bloody mirror in the corner of the room. You've never noticed it before. Wonder if he placed it there deliberately. "What is it?"

You narrow your eyes in the mirror. A smirk rests on his pretty lips and you can't help but bite down on yours when one of his hands creeps up your shirt. The bra you're wearing is lace; underwired but with unstructured cups. He squeezes. Fucking groans. "Shit."

"We shouldn't be doing this here," you tell him, well aware that Jimin could come home at any minute. Even going for a shower together is a risk. 

Jeongguk shrugs. "Doesn't matter."

"What if Jimin-"

"If he comes home, he comes home," Jeongguk cuts you off as he continues playing with you beneath your shirt. He wants it off. Takes it off. Faces no opposition from you. Both of his hands cup at your chest, the black lace sin beneath his hands. Your heartbeat heaves in your chest, and it's only made worse when Jeongguk nudges his nose against your hair and whispers, "maybe I'll just show him how to make you cum."

You tell him he's mean. He squeezes harder. Makes you whimper. Tells you he can be mean if you really want him to be.

But you shake your head. "Play nicely."

It's not that you don't like things a little rough and tumble - it's just that if this is the last time, you know it needs to be intimate. How else will you be able to face your fears with other people if you never even let him?

One of his hands trails to the back of your bra, and gently unsnaps the clasp, before ridding you of the lace. As much as he liked it, he likes you bare better. Likes the way your pillowy breasts frame your nipples perfectly. Likes that the soft flesh spills through the gaps in his fingers. Likes how easy it is to get you whimpering as he rolls your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

"Nice enough?" He husks.

"Nice," you nod, eyes closed, crown of your head tipping back to rest against the top of his chest. "God, Gguk. Think I'm obsessed with the way your hands feel."

The compliment makes his heart fucking race .

He watches in the mirror. Studies the way your lips part as he toys with you. Wants to kiss you so badly. Knows he can't. Fuck . Maybe he does get off on a little torture, but this is just inhumane to him. You can feel how hard he is as he presses into the small of your back. The curse and blessing of sweatpants. 

You reach behind yourself to palm at his crotch, and are met with a nod of his head against yours. 

"Fuck, B," he whines as you toy with the outline of his cock. "I gotta - fuck - I gotta do something with my mouth. Wanna kiss you too fuckin' bad."

He doesn't even mean to admit it, but now that he has, he feels a little shameless. If he can admit that, he can admit anything. 

Maybe he'll tell you about the wet dream he had a few nights ago, and how he'd woken up to damp sheets and a ruined orgasm all because you'd made an unexpected appearance in his dream. 

Maybe he'll tell you about the fact he hasn't watched porn in weeks. Just thinks of you, instead.

Maybe he'll tell you about the fleshlight hidden in the back of his bedside cabinet drawer, and how he can't use it anymore, 'cause it doesn't look like you do.

Doesn't look like you, doesn't feel like you, doesn't smell like you. Doesn't get him cumming like you do. 

Actually, maybe he won't tell you about that last one - but he wants you to know. 

Wants you to understand just how fucking sexy he thinks you are. Wants you to acknowledge that if he can get this wrecked over you, then there must be hundreds of other men out there just the same as him. You don't need to linger for so long on your ex. 

There'll be another guy out there for you who doesn't make you feel like shit; who only ever wants to make you feel good. So good. So, so-

"Oh God, yeah," he whines as you finally slip your fingers beneath his waistband and into his trousers. His hips pulse, wanting more, more, more of you. "So fucking good."

"My lips," you husk as his fingers dig into your soft chest. The grip is tight. Needy. "They're off limits."

"Lips," he nods. Clenches his jaw as he tries to control his breathing. Swallows his nerves down. "And the rest of you?"

You open your eyes to find his already on you in the mirror. He's hungry. Wanting. Salivating. He looks fucking primal, as if he's fighting every instinct he has just to keep your boundaries respected. Makes you wanna break every single one of them down.

Turning your head ever so slightly, just so your nose can nudge against his, you realign your faces. His lips are pouty. Pink. Pretty. Perfectly out of reach. Yet when you nod, they brush against yours tenderly. You don't let it happen again. "Be specific."

God, his cock is too fucking hard to be playing games like this. He wants to curse you out. Wants to be fucking mean. Wants to tell you to stop being a little bitch and just let him have his way with you - but he promised he'd play nicely. 

"Every inch of your skin," he says, 'cause he is actually a little too nervous to ask so politely for what he really wants.

Has been wanting it for weeks.

It's something new, to him. Something he's only ever asked for once, and it was in the heat of the moment. A moment quite a lot like this.

You smile. You know what he really wants. "That's not specific."

"But it's the truth."

Jeongguk always gets a little like this when he's riled up. A little needy. Whiney. You'd be a liar if you said you didn't enjoy it, but you know that sometimes he misspeaks. Says things he never would do if he wasn't desperately after a release. 

You never think he's lying, but you do think what he wants in the heat of the moment isn't always what he wants with a clear mind. This is one of those moments.

You purr, a little satisfied with how easy it is to get him like this. Feels like you're in control - so Jeongguk rolls your nipples between his fingers again to get you moaning. Realigns a sense of power. It's endless with the pair of you; a back-and-forth of control. It works well. Too well.

But he's feeling brazen, now. Feeling bold. Isn't nervous to tell you what he wants anymore, because the way your body reacts to his touch lets him know that you'll like it.

"Your tits, Byeol," he says. Your eyes fall to his in the mirror. He's looking directly at you. Notices the way your chest begins to heave a little heavier. Smirks. "If this is my last chance to..." he pauses. Is almost ashamed of what he wants.

"Last chance to what?" You flirt.

You bitch. You're teasing him just because you can. It makes him throb. The motion of your hand stroking above his underwear is making his cock all fat and leaky. There's a damp patch on the front of his briefs. He's ready to fuck. Wants to fuck.

But before that? Before he can even consider sinking himself into you? 

He (regretfully) pulls one of his hands away from you, bringing it to meet your hand in his trousers. He (even more regretfully) pulls you away. You pout. He smiles. 

"C'mon," he says, pulling on the hand he's just removed, leading you into the kitchen area. Will clarify it for you later.

The boys have an island that acts as a divider between the two spaces, which is exactly where he's taking you. The clothes he took off you are left by the sofa, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only: leveraging you into a better position.

You yelp a little as he dips to pick you up, gripping the back of his neck without hesitation. 

"Don't be a pussy," he grins, popping you down on the island counter. "Although now I come to think of it -" he lifts you again, getting to your feet. The way his mind darts from thought to thought, and how his body acts upon them without warning, makes you laugh. He sinks his finger into the waistband of your sweats. Pings it again your skin. "Off."

"Say please," you demand, just to be a little difficult. 

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please," he says, eyes dark as he towers over you, his hands coming to cup your chest once more. The man's obsessed, you think. If he could read your mind, he'd tell you that you're correct. He is. "Take your trousers off."

"Why?"

God, he hates that shit-eating grin of yours. Hates that he can't kiss it away. 

And so he decides he's not gonna entertain it any longer. He grabs your hips. Spins you around. Bends you over the island, a single hand gripping the top of your thigh, the other pressing down between your shoulder blades. 

"What's the word, Byeol?" He asks, checking that you're on the same page.

"Chess," you reply a little breathlessly. This lack of control is something you're used to with him. He's never overtly dominant, always looking out for your needs first and foremost, but this feels... yeah this feels different. This is about him. 

And it makes you far more excited than you ever realised it would.

His hand trails down your back. Strokes at the line of your spine. He admires you. Takes note of the dimples just above your ass. Knows he's in trouble the second he starts squeezing at one of your cheeks. Still an ass guy.

He yanks the material of your sweats down past your ass. Fucking groans when he sees the black lace thong that sits prettily over your ass. Glances over to the bra by his sofa. Groans yet again. Yep . A matching fucking set. 

"Fuckin' vixen," he mumbles to himself, not really intending for you to hear it. Isn't sure if you had planned on getting laid today, but you're definitely dressed for it. As he grapples with the flesh of your ass, he notices just how smooth your skin is. Well moisturised. Coconutty. 

Maybe you had taken extra care in the shower that morning. Maybe you had shaved your entire body. Maybe you had been wearing a new two-piece.

That doesn't mean you were planning on letting him see. Just means your self-care routine is coming along fabulously. Well done you.

There's a bruise on the top of your hip. Jeongguk's thumb brushes against it. Doesn't apply any pressure. A small noise chirps from his throat, questioning it. 

"Pole," you remind him a little breathlessly. "Gentle with my legs, they're covered in bruises."

He nods to himself, and says, "Use 'chess' okay? Hey, look at me a sec - 'chess'. Okay? Even if it's just your legs. Don't wanna hurt you."

You're looking at him over your shoulder with a smile. His sincerity is sweet, but entirely misplaced. You want him to hurt you.

"Notice how there are no bruises on my ass?" you ask, to which he nods. You face away from him again, and sink back into the position he originally had you in, chest pressed to the counter. "Good. Change that."

He thinks he might cream his pants right there and then. 

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me."

"Oh no," you pout, voice all soft and sweet. "Wouldn't that be a shame?"

Jeongguk grapples with your ass. Caresses it. Knows you're not done talking, so is buying time. Wants to hear how you'll tease him. See how riled up it''ll get him. 

"If you die, I'll just have to fuck Jimin again."

The crack of his palm against your ass is electric. 

Your body jolts forward, Jeongguk's grip on your hip to keep you stable no match for the impact of his flat palm. Skin on fire, chest heaving, you giggle. That's all he's got?

"Y'know," you tease, and Jeongguk is pleased that you sound a little breathless. He strokes at the skin he impacted, soothing the sting. Likes that goosebumps are already forming. "He took me from behind, a lot like thi-"

He doesn't even let you finish this time before the sting of his spank is delivered. It's harder than the first one, but his hand is also far quicker to soothe this time around. 

"Yeah," he husks. "I fuckin' know."

You can hear his breathing, now. You're both panting a little. 

"Does it bother you?" you ask as he tenderly cares for your reddening skin. 

"Be specific," he speaks boldly, a little unlike himself, and you're starting to understand why he's an ass guy. Your tits make him weak. This? The way he's got control of your body? Makes him strong. 

"That I fucked Ji-"

The way he cuts you off with another domineering slap to your ass gives you his answer - but so does the way he not only soothes the skin immediately afterwards, but also how his other hand comes to rub the bottom of your spine, following the path of its curve. He's cherishing. Worshipping. 

He leans forward as his hand trails up your spine so he can reach your neck, and tenderly clasps it to he pull you back up. Turns you around. Is gentle as he lifts you back into position on the counter. 

Brushes your hair out of your face. Looks you directly in the eye. Uses this thumb to collect a rogue chunk of glitter from your cheek. Rubs it on his arm. Stains himself in you.

"It doesn't bother me," he says - not for any male sense of bravado, or acting 'chill' - but because he needs you to know it isn't a big deal. You've enough complexes as it is. He doesn't want you to ever feel shame for the things you've done. "Bothers me that he doesn't realise how lucky he was to get a pussy as good as yours. Bothers me he didn't finish the job. Bothers me that he actually got to fuck you," he grins. You grin right back. "But it doesn't bother me that it happened."

"Mm, so you won't share towels with him, but you'll share girls?" You tease. His hands toy with your chest again. Secretly, you think you like him better like this. Like it when he's weak.

"Am I sharing you?"

It's a loaded question, you think.

"Not right now," you whisper, reaching to his waistband, nose nudging against his. "Take these off."

"Say please," he whispers right back. One of your hands tangles in his hair. Pulls him away. Gets him looking into your eyes.

"Please."

How can he refuse? It's like you put him in a trance whenever he sees your disco-ball eyes. He'll do whatever you ask of him.

He takes his trousers off first, then says "shirt?"

You nod. He takes that off, too. Leaves them crumpled in a pile on the floor. Doesn't care for them at the moment. Only cares for you.

"I still need a shower," he says, as he closes the gap between you, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

"We can still get one," you tell him. Honestly, you don't really mind what you do with him. Just know that you wanna make it last. Want this feeling of safety and security for a little while longer.

His arms rest on your shoulders. Just a little taller than you in height when you're sitting like this, Jeongguk likes looking at you from this angle. Likes seeing the variations in your glitter; the small chunks and slightly bigger flakes that make you seem cosmic. He likes noticing the flecks caught on your lashes, and how he never realised quite how long they are. He doesn't think you're wearing mascara. 

You're not - but you did get your lashes done the week before. He wouldn't give a shit even if he knew. Would think it was cool, probably.

"So about that whole no-kissing thing-"

"Nope," you laugh, swatting at his clammy chest. He smirks. Presses his lips together. Shakes his head. 

And then he whines. "It's so unfair."

"If you even try, I'm yelling chess."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," you assure him - only for him to edge a little closer.

He's not actually going to kiss you. 

Although... if you let him, he might. 

"Chess!"

"Ughhhh," he whines again, pulling away. "So mean, disco ball."

"What if I promise to make you cum?"

He narrows his eyes. "Fine."

One of his hands drops to your chest again. Keeps on coming back. Can't resist. Ass guy? Yeah right.

The other drops to your underwear. Toys with the lace. 

"Bird revision, right?" Jeongguk asks. "So we can only do things we've already done?

You nod. 

"Okay," he whispers, before pulling away from you. "Hold that thought."

You watch as he walks around to the kitchen sink, his thick cock tenting in his underwear, desperate for something. Anything . 

And yet your birds? 

All focus on you. You've no idea how the fuck you're gonna get him cumming. Sure, there was the mutual masturbation one, but you'd promised that you'd be the one making him come. Maybe there's room for loopholes.

It wouldn't be the first time the pair of you have skirted the truth of what a bird could entail. A bird, a plane. Whatever.

Hands under the water, Jeongguk's focus is only on cleaning himself. He preens you so often, fixes your hair, your glitter, that it's nice seeing him in the same capacity but for himself. Realistically, it's all for you, still. 

He glances up. Looks a little bashful. 

The distance reduces the pair of you to your natural states; just Jeongguk and his Stargirl. He gazes at you often, but it's different when he's blinded by the light. With a little space, he's reminded of the fact you belong on this earth, too. 

It's like the pair of you are tangled up in a Jekyll and Hyde situation, instead, it's who you are when your clothes are on, versus when your clothes are off. He likes both of them. Doesn't think they can coexist though. 

"What?" he asks when you smile at him. You just shrug and shake your head.

"Weird isn't it?" 

He comes to stand in front of you again. Your legs don't wrap around him, but he does put his palms on the top of your thighs. Looks pensive as he asks, "What is?" 

He's grinning, too, though. His skin is getting all prickly again. Can smell your arousal. Wants to fucking drink it. 

"You 'n' me," you shrug, letting your arms snake around his neck. You're sat up straight, and the gap between your chests closes. "Like, I was maybe 15 seconds away from kissing you." The admission makes Jeongguk want to die. "But then when you were washing your hands..."

"I was just Jeongguk again, right?" He assumes. You nod. "Same for me. Like we're two different people: who we are when we're horny and who we are when we're 'normal'."

"So fucking weird," you laugh, deciding that it solidifies what a great friendship you have. Convince yourself it's gonna make it so much easier when he starts dating. If you can separate the Jeongguk you mess about with and the Jeongguk you're friends with, then there's no reason the friendship should be lost.

"Too weird to pick back up where we left off?" He says quietly. Nudges his nose against yours. Strokes his hands up your back. Pulls his chest away so he can sneak his hands to your tits once more. Squeezes. Makes you moan.

You shake your head. "Do it again."

He does. 

Is firm, as he does so, his large hands cupping your chest so delicately that you almost want him to be rougher - but you like it when he's gentle. Like how well he takes care of you. His thumbs stroke across your hardened nipples, toying at them, getting you all hot and bothered. 

You moan so subtly that Jeongguk thinks it might be his favourite sound in the whole entire world. 

"You wanted specifics earlier," Jeongguk says under his breath. "I can give you a specific."

You nod. Trail along his bottom lip with your thumb. Let him press his lips down against it. 

"Show me," you tell him. He squeezes at your chest. You know exactly what he wants. You also know he's never done it before. "My tits, huh? You wanna suck on them?"

He swallows harshly. Rests his forehead against yours. Nods. Can feel his cock throb. 

"Big boy words," you whisper, and are met with a slight grunt from Jeongguk. He's used to being the one in your position. Used to setting the pace, setting the tone. You switching it back around on him? Fuck. He might just die. Or cum in his pants. One of the two. Death would be preferable. "Tell me what you want."

He rests his head on your shoulder. Looks at your tits as he plays with them. 

"Not much of a teller. More of a doer."

He's just trying to weasel his way out of it. It's like the birds all over again.

"So do it."

And to your surprise, he does.

His lips are firm as he presses a kiss around your nipple. Once, twice. A third time. Poutier and poutier with each kiss. He's delicate. Sincere. Doesn't wanna get it wrong.

"Feels good," you tell him, knowing he needs the reassurance. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smile. Tease at his hair as his lips wrap around you again. The way his lashes splay on his cheeks is art, you decide. "You've no idea how much I like this."

His lips kiss and kiss. It takes a little encouragement - "use your tongue a little. Yeah. Yeah, like that. It feels so good when you do that. Suck a little- oh fuck. Yes." - but it doesn't take long for him to gain confidence. Be a little bolder. He focuses on your reactions. Notices when your breath hitches everytime he runs his tongue around your nipple. When he kitten licks, too. But when he sucks? That's when the jackpot hits. 

Your body leans into his touch, hand resting on the back of his head. His name escapes your lips half a dozen times. When he switches to your other nipple? Half a dozen more.

His lips are direct and purposeful and they tug your nipple into his mouth, his moans vibrating around you.  Pulling away, Jeongguk wastes no time. Has your other nipple in his mouth almost immediately. Squeezes your tits together, nipples almost touching so he can swipe fast licks across them. Gets you mewling. Whining. Begging for more. 

And how can he refuse? 

His hand dips to your pussy. Toys with you over the lace, which is sodden with your arousal. He slides your underwear to the side, and says nothing, just continues sucking on your tits as he sinks a finger into you.

"Shit," you curse. The angle you're sitting at means he can't get too deep. Means he's hitting you in just the right spot, straight off the bat. He mumbles something, but you can't work it out. Just know there's no possible way he's an ass guy. Hasn't spent more than a second away from your tits since he first started peppering them in kisses. "Just like that."

Your head lulls back, and Jeongguk finally pulls away. "You good?"

He's met with the most satisfied laugh he thinks he's ever heard. "Is water wet?"

"Dunno," he grins. "But you are. Fuckin' soaked. God," he stares down at your pussy, stuffed with two of his fingers. "I fuckin' love this cunt."

You smirk. Roll your hips as well as you can in the position. He watches, transfixed by the way he's stretching you out even with just two fingers.

"My bed," he rasps. "Can we? I know I need to shower, but - fuck - I just gotta have you in my bed, B."

Truthfully, you're glad. There's something about post-gym Jeongguk that just really gets to you. You think it's the pheromones. Don't care to google it because you enjoy the mystery. 

You nod. "Probably for the best. You have to eat off of here."

He smirks. Withdraws from you. Says, "So?"

And then he licks his fucking fingers clean. Eyes on yours. One of his brows tweaks. Challenges you. 

"You underestimate how much I like eating pussy," he says, as he walks away, leaving you in a state of shock.

You think his departure is for dramatic effect. In reality, it's just so you don't see the Cheshire cat grin on his face, pleased with himself for what he just did. He knows it was hot - but he's smiling because he can't get over the way you taste. Fucking delicious.

That thing about torturing himself? Yeah. You might be right. 

Eating pussy isn't on the birds. He knows he can't have it - and yet when you arrive at his door, mouth still ajar, both smug and surprised in the same expression, he thinks it might not be unfathomable. 

"What?" he feigns innocence - but he's got a grin that tells the tale of a valiant hero. He's so pleased with himself that you almost slip back into your 'normal' selves again - but then you crawl onto his bed. All fours. Ass a little red from his hands earlier, but no bruises. Just that barely there thong he thinks belongs in a museum, and evidence of just how turned on you are showing between your thighs.

The smile of his? Replaced with a stare so hard it rivals his cock. 

"What?" you feign innocence now, as you flop down onto his bed - and then he gets the luxury of seeing your tits and - fuck. It's all too much. 

He walks over to the bed. Takes off his underwear. You do the same.

"I'm gonna die," he tells you with absolute certainty. He's so ridiculous that you can't help but smile all fondly at him. The way he jokes and banters with you comes so easily, that part of you doesn't even realise he's naked. Part of you does, though. Mainly your eyes, given the fact they seem to be transfixed on his cock. "If we don't do something about this-" he gestures down to his cock, as if you need any direction "- then I absolutely will just die. Is that what you want? Huh?" 

"Mhmm," you hum, finishing it with a small giggle and a nod, reaching for his hand to pull him onto his bed. He lets you. Follows your lead, cause he hopes it's leading him somewhere good. "I want you dying a very little death."

The innuendo dances off your tongue and into his ear as you sit on his lap. His hands automatically find your chest. He decides he'll miss them. Encourages your body down. Positions you just right so that he can take your tits in his mouth again. He's a changed man.

"Don't think there'll be any little about it," he mumbles as he switches sides, kitten licking now so that he can finish his sentence. "Think it's gonna be a very big death, actually."

"Shit," you whisper as he gets reacquainted with your body. He decides all rather quickly that tits are a gift from God and he's been blind for his entire life up until he met you. How had he not been utterly obsessed before? He'll never admit it. Never. Will prevail as an ass guy - but fuck, he hopes whoever you set him up with has a good pair of tits.

But then there's an uncomfortable awareness of how fleeting this all is. By the time you've both finished, it'll all be over. 

He manoeuvres you both over. Kisses your chest, now. Works his way up to your collarbone. Your neck. Bites down ever so gently. Kisses again. Tells you once more how your no-kissing rule 'will kill' him. 

"Better leave me something nice in your will," you tease as he finally pulls away from dappling your skin in pretty kisses that you wished could have been on your lips instead. Either pair. 

He sits back on his heels. Strokes his cock as he looks at you. Tilts his head, a smirk rising on one side as you cup your tits. 

"Pussy," he encourages, pulling a little tighter on his cock. "Play with your pussy."

You give him a quizzical look, but do as you're told. Slide your fingers between your slick folds. Spread yourself for him. Watch as he almost fucking hisses. The pace he's wanking himself off increases. His breathing shallows. You think it stops completely when you sink two fingers into your entrance.

He curses. Tilts his head back. Ruts his hips upwards. Forces his cock through the tight grip of his hand. There's a sheen to his tip, precum leaking so delicately that you find yourself salivating at the sight of it. The muscles in his lower abdomen tense. He's edging himself. 

"How many birds do we have left?" Jeongguk rasps, eyes opening to find yours again. The way he speaks, all breathless and needy, has you wanting more. "Mutal masturbation's done. I can't... Shit. I can't. I'll cum if I carry on. Tits are done. Fingers, done. What else?"

"Shower," you say, then follow it up with. "Do that last. Water gets in the way. Wanna watch you cum."

"Shit, don't say shit like that," he mewls as he sinks down on top of you. His body is warm, the chain around his neck catching on your throat, pooling between your collarbones. Has you determined to make him finish on your chest. Wanna replace his chain with his cum. 

In a normal scenario, he'd kiss you right now - but he can't. Instead, he averts his desire. Grips his cock. Presses it against your folds. Spreads your slickness. Covers himself in it. Dips down a little too far. Curses. Gets you whining. 

"You know," he husks against your neck. "We could..."

"Cockwarm?" You simper. "Don't believe that one was my bird?"

The crown of his cock presses against you. Jeongguk holds it as the base, and runs it down your folds, then back again. He repeats. Lets his grip get even tighter when he lines up with your entrance. He waits for you to move your hips.

And you do. Just for a moment. Just a tad. Just enough.

"Wasn't it?" He hums, knowing perfectly well it was one of his.

"Don't even think it was a bird," you whisper a little breathlessly as he presses a little deeper against you. He adjusts his hips. Lines himself up a little better. Your breath hitches.

"So you don't want to?" He asks, and you can just tell he's got one of those smiles on his lips. The one that makes you think maybe kissing him wouldn't be so bad. "'Cause I wanna."

"Gguk," you whisper. He shakes his head.

"Not an answer."

"Shit," you whimper, rolling your hips ever so gently to encourage his tepid ruts against you. "Condom?"

"Birth control?" he chances. He knows you're on it. Think if he's gonna get his cock in you, then he's gonna at least try for it raw.

You know you should, and yet - "Are you clean?"

He nods. Asks the same back. You nod. Haven't hooked up with anyone but him since your last test.

Everything is out in the open. There's nothing to lose - just the knowledge that you'll maybe never get this ever again. It only serves to make you want him raw even more.

"You get a minute."

He pauses. "A minute?"

"Sixty seconds," you nod. "Cockwarming. That's all you get."

It's ridiculous, 'cause all you want is for Jeongguk to fuck you senseless. Think it's embarrassing admitting that, though. What if he doesn't actually want to fuck you? What if it's just for the birds?

"Who's counting?" He husks. Realigns himself. Presses the tip of his cock against your entrance. Plugs it but doesn't push forward. Makes you wanna die. Too good. Too fuckin' good.

"You are," you whimper, knowing you won't be able to keep count when he's inside you.

He nods. Reminds you that 'chess' is always an option.

His cock sinks into you slowly. It's thick and wide, angled just right to hit your sweetest spots. Jeongguk groans. Finds himself seeking out your tits with his mouth as he bottoms out. Sucks gently, until he's reminded by you that he needs to be keeping count.

He grins. Nibbles your nipple ever so gently, then nods. "You're right, you're right. Sorry. Shit. One. Two..."

Jeongguk finds solace in the crook of your neck as your legs wrap around him. The position has him thinking you've no right to ever complain about intimacy again. This is about as fucking intimate as it gets. And when your arms wrap around his neck? Dainty fingers start toying with his hair? Only amplifies it.

Your hips move ever so tenderly, and he loses count. Finds himself swearing again. You're tight and warm around him, just how he wanted it. Torture. Fucking torture. He likes this so much he fears you ruined actual sex for him.

"Shit," he mumbles against you. "Never been good at maths."

The way you giggle? Torture. Again. 

"You're a liar, Jeon Jeongguk," you whisper tenderly, tensing around him just cause you liked the way it made him whine.

He pouts and shakes his head, which is still buried in the crook of your neck. His voice is muffled as he asks, "What comes after 32?"

And because you're just as into it as he is, you decide lying is okay for the time being. "11."

"Yeah," he whines. "Thought so. Eleven... Twelve... What's next?"

"Dunno," you whimper breathlessly. It's getting a bit too much for you, too. "Maybe ten?"

"Ten," he echoes. Decides he wants to spend eternity inside you. "Eleven..."

He pauses just long enough for you to know exactly where he's going with this - so you beat him to it.

"Maybe it would be easier if you had a rhythm going?" you simper. 

"A rhythm?" He hums. He was just gonna pretend he couldn't do maths again.

"Like..." you pull your hips back a little, burying yourself deeper into the mattress and away from him - but then you push them back up. Jeongguk fucking whines. "One." 

You pull back, again. Jeongguk whines, again. Sinks himself back into you. "Shit. Two."

"I'm not good at multitasking," he says. Not a lie, admittedly. Gets distracted too easily. If you don't keep count, he'll just fuck you forever or something stupid like that. Doesn't think he'd mind it, to be honest. "Maybe you should keep count."

"Mhmm? You want me to count for you?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Count for me, B. Make sure I don't go over sixty."

"I'll count backwards," you tell him, thinking it will somehow take longer, because apparently all sense of sanity is evading you. Unsurprising. All you can think about is Jeongguk's fat cock and how it's keeping you spread open nice and wide for him. "Countdown." 

"60-0?" He clarifies, to which you nod. "Mhm. Do that. Count backwards. Use that pretty little head of yours."

"Sixty..."

The way he pulls out of you is maddeningly slow. He's deliberating taking his time. Overindulging. Making this last. He's even slower as he pushes back in, filling you up as deep as he possibly can.

You're barely able to get the next number out.

"Fifty-nine," you eventually manage as he bottoms out. "Fuck."

He's lethargic in the way he moves. Slow as he withdraws, and even slower still as he fucks himself into you.

"Fifty-eight..."

Jeongguk's skin is hot. He sticks to you like glue. Only his hips move - but so do yours. 

You're fucking. 

You. Are. Fucking.

And, God, you know you shouldn't. You know that it's a recipe for disaster, but Jeongguk's aftershave smells like safety and his bed feels like home, so the prospect isn't scary. 

"...Forty-two... Forty-one..."

Your whines are getting louder. So are his grunts. You grip onto his biceps, and begin to realise Jeon Jeongguk is not a man. He simply cannot be. Not when he is built like a Greek God, and looks like one too. Crafted from marble, there's no possibility he's real. 

And even if he is real, you think there's no way he'd actually be fucking himself into you like he is. 

Sex, at its very basic fundamental value, is all about survival of the fittest. Anatomy. Breeding. Shit like that; things you can't quite recall when he's balls deep inside you. It's about fucking for the survival of the human race, and out of everyone on the planet, you can't wrap your head around the fact he'd choose to do that with you. His basic anatomy would choose you . 

Jeongguk isn't thinking as intensely as you are. 

Fucking. Nice feeling. Cum. Nice. Inside her. Nice. Fucking. Real nice. Glitter. Nice. Tits. Suck. Nice. More. Fuck. Nice. Again? Nice.

But he is also thinking about spilling himself into you, and how fucking unreal it would feel. 

So maybe your brains are working in tandem. Different process. Same end goal. He just can believe he'd choose you, 'cause, well... he already has.

Eventually, you hit thirty-three, then thirty-two, and then -

"Shit," you whine. "That damn thirty-two."

"What about it?" He asks a little curiously. Pauses his hips until he gets the go-ahead from you again.

"I've forgotten what comes after it."

"Shit," he grins, playing along with you. "Start again?"

"Maybe," you nod. "But this time, maybe go faster? Might jog my memory?"

Jeongguk smirks. Sits up on his heels, cock still buried inside you, knees on either side of your ass. He grips your waist. Spanks one of your tits, then softly caresses it as an apology for letting the intrusive thought win. His hips pulse gently. 

He's fucking you. 

Jeongguk is fucking you. 

He lets the hand that was playing with your chest trail down your torso until it reaches your pussy. It's swollen and needy, just as much blood rushing to your clit as there is to his cock. His thumb presses down right when it needs to. Rubs in tiny circles as he gently thrusts into you slowly.

"Faster?"

You nod.

"Okay," he rasps. "Let's jog that memory of yours. You're so smart, Byeol. Look at you, and your pretty little head. So smart. So fucking smart when my cock's inside you."

This time you don't count. He grips your waist. Rams himself into you like a man possessed, lips resting ajar as his brows knit together all prettily like they did when he was eating brunch. So incredibly focused, and yet there's not a single thought up in that gorgeous head of his, just that he's fucking you so hard his neighbour will definitely be able to hear his bedframe hitting the wall. Good .

The noises he makes are lewd. You think he'd make bank with an only fans. Know that you'd pay good money for it. With a cock as pretty as his? A body like a marble statue? Gorgeous little whimpers when his cock is all needy for you? Yeah, bitches would go wild for him. 

Funny, how you refer to them as bitches, almost like you're jealous over imaginary women who'd find him sexy. Very strange, indeed. 

After all? You're just friends.

His pace eventually eases, and you pretend like you were counting the entire time. "Two... One... Times up."

Jeongguk sinks back down, hooking one of your legs over his elbow as he does so, opening you up even further. He wants to be deeper. As deep as he possibly can be. Wants to press down on your cute little tummy and feel himself inside you.

"Whoever fucks you next better worship your pussy," he mumbles, pressing kisses up your neck. "So fucking good. Shit. If you dare fuck another guy who doesn't make you cum like you know you deserve to cum-"

"You'll what?" you tease, a smile plastered all over your face. "Die?"

He laughs. Shakes his head. You know him so well. "What use would that be? Nah..."

Jeongguk pulls away from you again. Withdraws himself fully for the first time. Watches your pussy as your arousal seeps from your tight cunt and onto his sheets. Wants to lick it all up. Doesn't think he's allowed to, though.

Instead, he moves your legs, finally noticing the extra bruises from pole. You were right. They do look like watercolour bruises. 

He squeezes your thighs together and uses his gentle hands to twist your hips, so that your legs are curled to the side, but keeps your back flat against his bed. He lines himself up with you again. Grunts as he sinks into you. You're tighter now, like this. He thinks it's gonna make him cum. He has to go slow.

"I'd get you like this," he says, holding onto your hip and pushing deeper, deeper into you. He nods over to his desk and smirks. "And that chair over there? That's where they'd be. And they'd have to watch me fuck you how you like it."

He doesn't mean to, but he finds himself fixated on the fact you routinely have sex and don't finish. He can't wrap his head around it. He'd had the luxury of witnessing you cum a handful of times. Had felt it once. Knows first-hand how fucking good it is. Thinks about it as he fucks into you, now, then lets the intrusive thoughts win again as he begins to ramble.

"Can't believe how many people you've let get away without making you cum. You know how good that shit is? Fuck. You feel like heaven. They wouldn't even deserve to watch it - but I'd do it. I'd make them fuckin' watch - 'cause not being funny, B, but you should see yourself right now. So fucking hot I might die. Hopefully then if they fucked you again, they'd know what to do."

"Never realised you were such a good teacher, Mr Jeon," you tease.

He stills his cock inside you. Smirks. Shakes his head. Picks up the pace again.

You know what ' Jeon ' does to him. The ' Mr ' ahead of it? Yeah. Gets him.

And so gives you a friendly threat, as he fucks his cock a little deeper into your tight, warm cunt. "I will fuck you so hard my bed breaks if you don't shut the fuck up."

"Oh?" You grin, trying not to moan and failing miserably. "Would you prefer Sir ?"

"Final warning," he growls, his hips slowing but deepening. He's close. You know it's not gonna take much. 

"Whatcha gonna do? Give me a detention?"

"If you get to call me stupid fuckin' names, then I get to kiss you."

"Kissing isn't very friendly, is it?"

"Byeol, my cock is inside you."

"Yeah? Just a friendly fuck."

He knows you're joking, but Jeongguk doesn't think there's anything friendly about this.

He doesn't insist on kissing you any further.

"You're unbelievable," he smiles, easing slightly before reaching for your hand. "C'mon, let's make you cum."

"Oh? You want this to be over?" You flash a grin, as if you haven't been fucking him for God knows how long by this point, knowing full well he could have cum in 10 seconds flat at any given opportunity. He repeatedly edged himself for you.

"No, but if I don't cum soon, Byeol, I'll d-"

"Die, yeah yeah," you grin. "Alright. Put yourself out of your misery."

He laughs. Looks at you with such fondness that you think you'd quite like to orgasm on his cock for him like a good friend should. "You make me sound like such an asshole."

"I don't," you promise sweetly - before you also decide to let the intrusive thoughts win. "Also, just on the subject of assholes, thoughts on pegging?"

"Literally what the fuck is wrong with you," he laughs, rolling his hips to remind you of the more pressing things at hand. You moan a little, but all you wanna do is banter with him. You enjoy it. Like it when he's all hard and needy and impatient, and you're winding him up. You like frustrating him. 

"You've got a nice ass," you shrug, shoulders pressed deep down into his white sheets. You look angelic, he thinks, hair haloing around your head, chest flushed, tits covered in teeny tiny hickies from his mouth.

"Well, maybe if you'd have picked a different plane..." he teases. "You'd know by now."

Holy shit.

"Wait. You wanna get peg-"

Jeongguk covers your mouth with his hand, a subtle grin on his pretty little face, dewy nose scrunching just for you.

"As much as I enjoy your chitchat, Byeol, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you can't talk at all. That good?"

You laugh. Twist your torso over to reposition yourself on your front. He gives you a playful spank straight off the bat, and it makes you roll your eyes - as if you hadn't turned over just to give him a view of your ass. You'd known what you were getting yourself in for.

Adjusting you slightly, Jeongguk pulls one of his spare pillows over, and lifts your hips to scoot it beneath you. It's his favourite position. Every last part of it. The way he can pull on hair and spank asses? The muffled moans into his pillows? Fuck . 

You love it just as much. Always helps to have your body weight adding to the pressure of your fingers massaging against your cunt. As Jeongguk pushes into you, he watches your hand slip beneath your body, and curses. 

"That's it, B," he husks. "That's a good girl."

He fucks himself into you - slow, deep, hard - and picks up the pace with every pathetic moan that escapes your lips. Tells you how good you sound, how much he wants to hear you come undone - and then you are.

The pleasure waves through you like an electrical current, Jeongguk's thick cock unrelenting as he fucks into you and drags your high even further than you thought possible. There's a numbness to your body, save for the overwhelming pleasure that pulses around his cock. It's all you can feel. Everything else is void. For a moment, the only important thing in your life is Jeongguk's dick and the way it fills you like nothing else ever has.

"Shit," he husks. "B, where?"

"Back," you just say, unable to move because your body is still fucking shaking. You don't even get the chance to mourn the loss of his cock inside of you, because he has to pull out so quickly.

His hand grips his cock and wanks faster than the speed of light. The pressure in his balls builds and builds and then it can build no more.

He squeezes your ass and whines as thick, creamy spurts of cum begin to paint your back.

The sound of his grunting makes you moan with every new rope of cum emptied onto your skin, and Jeongguk's pretty sure nothing in Taehyung's 'passion' collection could even come close to the sight in front of him. 

The final drops are wasted on your ass cheek as Jeongguk holds it to the peachy flesh, watching the way he stains your skin. Holding his cock by its base, he spanks it against your ass once, twice. Smirks. Takes a moment to squeeze your ass just because he can. 

He fucked you. He knows he should be concerned about the friendship, but he's not reached post-nut clarity yet.

Eventually, he flops down beside you.

"You know," you mumble, eyes closed, a smile on your lips. Jeongguk's grin is so serene that it's a good job your eyes aren't open. You might accidentally get your feelings confused if you saw him look that pretty. "I actually think it's a bit mean setting these poor girls up with you."

"What? Why?"

He sounds genuinely affronted. You just smile harder.

"Well, it's a bit cruel, isn't it? Us pretending like they'll be dating some great guy, only for them to later find out you're really average in bed."

He knows you're joking. Knows that a fuck like that could never be described as average. Plays up to your teasing just because he finds it funny.

" Average ?!" He exclaims. You can hear his smile in his tone of voice. "Nah, you're chatting shit just to piss me off, Byeol. What is it, huh? Want me to fuck you again? Want me to remind you exactly how average I can be?"

"Maybe."

He grunts. "Call me when you can walk straight."

"Pass me my phone."

"Fuck off."

The afternoon descends into casual chaos. You shower together, and bicker over who gets to stand beneath the water for longer, then battle it out for Jeongguk's fluffy towel in the aftermath. In the end, he lets you have it - only 'cause he likes the way you oogle at him when he's naked. 

You dry your hair, and style Jeongguk's into pretty little French braids. Tell him that he has to keep it like that. He says he will. By the time Jimin gets home, you're just sitting on the sofa watching shite TV. He's none the wiser you were naked on his kitchen counter a few hours earlier. Probably is best he never finds out about that part.

He studies Jeongguk's hair for a moment, then shrugs. "Suits you. What have you guys been up to?"

Good fucking question. 

"Not much," Jeongguk hums. "Gym this morning. Met this one -" he pokes you with his foot, earning a grimace from you. "- Afterwards for coffee. Been stuck to me like a bad smell ever since."

Jimin laughs. Shakes he his head as he comes to sit by you both with a box of dry cereal that he's eating straight from the bag. 

"You've got the most sensitive nose known to man," Jimin teases. "If you've kept her around, it's cause she smells good."

"Nah," he begs to differ. "Just gone nose blind."

"Prick," you laugh, then ask Jimin about his day. 

Conversation takes place of the shitty TV show, the three of you easily finding a million different topics to talk about.

It's times like this you regret ever fucking Jimin. Part of you fears you'll always just be 'the girl Jimin fucked that one time'. No identity within Jeongguk's friendship group beyond the fact you shagged his mate.

It's stupid. They barely remember Jimin even so much as looked in your direction. You're Jeongguk's friend. Jeongguk's.

Funny how you don't seem to mind being reduced to no identity outside of the confines of Jeongguk. Did you really heal after Seokjin? Or are you just making even worse decisions than you used to?

Thing is, Jeongguk's friends would be right in thinking that of you. 

You are his friend. 

As you head off into town the next morning to arrange his blind date, you know that's all you'll ever be.

And somehow, you think you're okay with that. 

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[deargaz]

am so bloody distracted by your tumblr header... like sir please why do you have to look THAT good

anywayss thinking of "right person wrong time" with kyle and meeting him again in the future and him wanting to make things right this time. im down bad for second chance trope 😔✊🏻

his face is so distracting sometimes i just get distracted while staring at my header and forget why i even opened tumblr. you're so real for this anon, AND UGH RIGHT PERSON WRONG TIME HURTS SO MUCH.

i can imagine you meeting him before he was promoted to being a sergeant. it was sweet, the love between you both undying, just growing more with each date and kiss you’d share with him. you two were inseparable, and no one had ever made you feel so special, so seen.

until he was promoted, the workload increased and it became hard for him to juggle between you and his work, to maintain a balance. maybe he really was the world’s biggest asshole for dropping you for his work in the first place, growing distant and going to the base everytime his captain would call him.

you had begun hating the name ‘captain price’. you hadn’t seen that man, and you sure as hell didn’t want to, ever.

the break up was messy, tears and desperation and the most annoying part was that he was somewhat calm, promising you that he still loved you — just can’t be with you. as if that’d make anything better. but you knew how important it was to him, resulting in you letting him go. his work was important, his effort. deep within your head, you had internalized that it was all your fault, that you had gotten in his way.

four years passed, both of you didn’t particularly talk ever again, nor saw each other — until he bumped into you during his break on a street, his words dying in his throat once he laid his eyes upon you. you still looked the same, the same person he had fallen in love with.

god knows how much he had mourned his decision, that’s what being young was all about anyways, being all stupid. he knew better now, knew that he still loved you. it was a weird, sickening feeling — this sudden wave of nostalgia, affection and guilt — especially when you looked at him with wide eyes, just as shocked.

“hey…” he trailed off, not knowing what to say. what could he even say at this point? but there was one thing he knew for sure — he’d spend as much time as possible apologizing to you, confessing his love over and over as if it were a prayer — because it is. a prayer, a confession. he’d do anything to have you back. anything. he knows his priorities now dove, he promises.

“wanna go grab some coffee?” he prayed that you’d agree, to let him be your one and only forever.

[charles-leclerc-official]

Why is Red Bull keeping Checo?

I have seen this question thrown around a lot, it's like clockwork every year the validity of his seat is questioned. In 2024 especially after a series of lackluster performances people have questioned why Red Bull would keep Checo in that seat when they have other options like their VCARB drivers or other Red Bull juniors ready to take a chance.

I think that this year especially as the seasons progressed it's become clear that Red Bull need to keep Checo. I know sponsorships etc are also involved. There is a lot that goes into these decisions. But I want to speak about the side of things that has gone under the radar at Red Bull since last year and why they need Checo on the team at this moment in time.

Simply put it's the car. Checo has been the canary in the coalmine for the current evolution of the RB series for a year and a half now. When he noted issues with the car last year in 2023 and how it impacted his driving he was dismissed. Max was still getting results. (Max also noted problems but he was still winning so who cares right? Right?)

Well there's only so long you can get away with a bad or sub-optimal upgrade.

Cut to 2024, Red Bull upgrade the car and Checo's performance drops again, dramatically. And this time so does Max's. Look at the beginning of the struggles in Monaco that carried into the triple header.

There are problems with the balance on the Red Bull model, an issue that has spanned multiple seasons that the team overlooked until they couldn't anymore. They really had the mentality of "Max is still winning so it's fine"

When no. They had a car that Max was starting to really have to fight, and Checo had lost the feeling entirely.

You saw a lot of mentions of "The Verstappen factor" when it came to winning races in mid 2024.

Checo is one of the drivers that has been with this car, and it turns out his feedback and notes on performance were very accurate. If Red Bull want to try to get back on track they need to stay with the drivers who know that car best. Replacing Checo for someone else would work if the car was in a good place. It isn't. The primary goal at the team is to fix the car. A driver who hasn't been with the car at all is not going to be any help on that front. And we have learned that Checo's feedback on the RB19 and RB20 was accurate and more valuable than the team first understood.

People were concerned when Red Bull said "We need to make the car more comfortable for Checo"

But that is what they needed to do, because making the car better for Checo would also make it better for Max. These two are not at odds when it comes to performance in that car. It's just Checo experiences much bigger drop offs than Max. The team realized they needed to listen not just to Max but Checo too if they were going to get on top of the problems with their upgrades and base design philosophy.

It seems that Checo is a good measure for the car. When he struggled eventually that performance issue caught up to Max as well. It took a while, and Max being such a good driver he can compensate for a lot. But if you see Checo struggle with the car, a few months later it catches up to Max. It may take a while but it shows that watching him is very important to understanding these cars.

If Red Bull want to understand the car to best support Max, Checo is the most useful on that front at this moment in time.

If they are going to recover for the rest of the season they need the guy who has been in the car and can give the most informed feedback. Daniel, Yuki, or any Red Bull junior driver was not going to be able to do that.

Note: Max also is important here, but I am speaking specifically on Checo as his impact has been largely overlooked. Max has had many of the same issues make no mistake.

[marketfreshfics]

Love is a... | Sebastian x MC

Header image (Sebastian): @starrysallow ✦ 5,439 words ✦ NSFW content (MDNI) ✦ unnamed female MC (no use of y/n), estranged friends to lovers, mild physical confrontation, some angst, oral, masturbation, p in v, tw: choking ✦ Inspired by "Love is A..." - PVRIS ✦ Read it below the cut or on AO3

Events following catastrophe were called fallout for a reason. Oftentimes it wasn’t the disaster itself, but the particles of pain that amassed the body counts, thrown to the heavens and scattered. What goes up, must always come down.

After killing Solomon and being pardoned outside of a court of magical law, based on friendship and honesty at the decision of his closest two friends, Sebastian was never the same. He stopped regular class attendance, prioritized unhealthy friendships, and frequented the restricted section even more. 

She worried, constantly, but each attempt to reconnect and rekindle had been dodged and ignored. Her poor owl probably thought her a right lunatic with the amount of return post that accumulated next to her bedside.

It was as if he breathed in strands of that wretched Killing Curse, and his former self was another casualty of that day. 

Distance was the only solution, and weeks bled to months, then years. Hostilities were built, grudges cemented, and relationships wedged. A lifelong friendship built on mutual trust, obliterated by all counts without salvage. 

It hurt her heart, to say the least. Even Ominis insisted on prioritizing Sebastian’s company, solely out of self-flagellating guilt in believing he could have, somehow, prevented all of this. Now, he felt like it was the best means of maintaining Sebastian’s composure, of averting further tragedy. Eventually, the infrequent study sessions and conversations in the Slytherin common room became a thing of the past. The Undercroft’s clockface locking mechanism collected cobwebs, of time lost and friendships standing still. 

She withdrew; the end of her seventh year approached and she was consumed by the quiet, by research, by exams. By any and all distractions that held her focus long enough to neglect her feelings. 

Until one sleepless evening, as she passed the time in the Slytherin common room, tracing shapes in the condensation on the windows looking out into the Black Lake. The sound of footfalls and deep snickers bit her focus and induced an automatic eye-roll, the tells of men being up to no good. She turned her back to the stairwell, opting out of asking what they were up to at one-thirty in the morning.

Nothing great from the sounds of it. The group halted at the bottom of the stairs, whispered amongst themselves, and let out hushed sounds of approval. And then, the last voice she wanted to hear in the middle of the night beckoned her attention.

“Hello.”

Fucks sake, she thought, hearing Sebastian’s unfortunately familiar tone. His cronies chuckled, and worry started to spread uncomfortably in her chest.

“Leave her be, Sebastian.” 

Relief cooled her blood as Ominis chided his best friend. Nothing wary would occur if he was in their company, that was certain; the heir of Slytherin had a quiet but firm reputation that fellow housemates were keen to avoid fucking around near. She turned, and swallowed hard.

Sebastian was a ghost of his former self, having filled out the straight-up-and-down form of his early teenage years. His black button-down could have used a proper resizing, taut at the biceps, the slightest hint of his undershirt peeking through the first buttonhole. Had they maintained a proper friendship still, she might have found him rather fetching. 

But that was off the table entirely, their friendship long past expiration, the unanswered letters like an obituary in itself.

Sebastian crossed the central chamber of the common room, walking with the subtle saunter of liquid courage and bad influence, smirking with a glassy haze in his eyes. 

He stood far too close to her. “I said, hello.” Terse, unyielding. The firewhisky on his breath branded her cheeks, and at this proximity, she was painfully aware of how much taller than her he’d grown. His little band of brothers hung back much to her relief; Ominis stood between them and the tower of darkness, the only one of them with some decorum (and sobriety)

“What do you want?” She muttered, fists balled at her sides to hide their tremble.

Sebastian feigned a hurt expression but it immediately dissolved, replaced with a terrible implication in his grin. “You.”

His audience chortled, save for Ominis, who seemed to be carefully attuned to whatever Sebastian was about to say next. 

She ignored his forward attempt, cursing herself inwardly for how excited it made her feel. “What happened to you?” She wasn't looking for an answer, at least not immediately. She would have preferred he give it some thought, then approach her the next morning with an explanation (and, perhaps, an apology). “What’s wrong with you? Ever since you-”

Chagrined by her prying question, he reacted abruptly, grabbing her by the throat and pushing her back hard against the window.

His friends seemed perturbed by the action, immediately noping out of any involvement and backing out of the room for what they believed was yet to come. Ominis however took a step towards Sebastian, his wand raised, pulsing red. “Release her, Sebastian.” There was an exercised firmness in his voice as if he’d done this before. She wasn't the least bit surprised. 

What was surprising, however, was her arousal. For his hand to be large enough to cup her throat just right, she thought it unfair. His eyes commanded her gaze, nostrils flared and breath hissed over snarled lips. His words bore grit, and punctuation pronounced. “Watch. your. mouth.”

It was no suggestion, about as much room for argument as was left in her airways for oxygen to travel to and from; next to none. Her jugular pounded against the web of his thumb, and his eyelids fluttered, pupils contracting in the earth of his eyes. 

He knew. He bloody well knew how she was reacting, he had to. It shredded her innocence then, flayed it on the rack and flung her into a pit that the bastard dug himself. 

Sebastian’s lip twitched, the corner tugging upwards into a smirk. Fuck him, she thought before speaking her mind, an emphatically sharp remark cutting a web of spit that landed on his chin. It only broadened his grin, as he wiped it away with his middle finger before swiping it with his tongue.

Her sympathies were with Ominis who had to endure this display of power and obstinate threats. “You’re reprehensible, Sebastian!” he warned as a firm hand clapped his shoulder. “Leave her be. She’s gone through enough already without your mistreatments.”

But she didn't want him to leave her be. She wanted him to mistreat her even more, and leave nothing left.

Mercy was given as Sebastian released her, wringing his hand. He narrowed his eyes as she ran off towards the spiral staircase, leaving before Ominis could provide consolation. Only once she was safely out of eye and earshot did she suck in a breath. She winced, a sting of soreness at her swallow, coughing to clear her stuck esophagus.

But that wasn’t what she fixated on. Instead of fear, she felt curiosity. Instead of warnings heeded, she draped his red flags over her shoulders like expensive silks. 

Deceived into tasting forbidden fruit by a fucking snake. She could have laughed if she weren’t so fixated on the abject deploracy of it all. Every detail was ingrained in memory, down to the searing heat exhaled from his nostrils, fanning her décolletage, his inferno blazing.

And still, tears sprung to her eyes as she ran to the only spot she considered would provide some quiet reprieve…

And somewhere she could moan freely without an audience.

Thankfully the greenhouse was left unlocked, most likely by a fifth-year tasked with watering the dirigible plums after dinner and forgot to lock up. She stepped into the classroom, the humidity warmer than the cold dampness of the Slytherin dungeons, and she found a quiet corner to scoot on her bottom out of sight.

Despicable as it was, her digits committed treason and slipped under the waistband of her pajamas, sinning herself, confessing to those immoralities to please with her pleas. Her eyes wrenched shut in concentration as she drew upon her new little devious spank bank, every reaction cycling on a loop as her wrist bones cracked quietly in her panties with the fervour of her ministrations. And as close as she managed to get herself, with the image of Sebastian tattooed on tight eyelids, she almost cursed out loud when the latch on the greenhouse door clicked with movement.

She wasn't alone anymore.

She might have anticipated Ominis following her in hopes of apologizing on his behalf, but she never would have expected Sebastian to be the one stepping into the greenhouse, not after what transpired minutes ago. Perhaps Ominis talked some sense and ordered him to reconcile in person.

He leaned against the door, his hands in his pockets. “I can see you,” He said quietly, gesturing to her slippers poking out of the shadows. “What are you doing over there? Please, can you come out a moment?”

“Or what?” She replied, still trying to steady her breath, the combination of running and masturbating making it draw shallow. “You going to strangle me again if I don't?”

He exhaled, and… pleaded? “Promise I won't. That… I was out of line. You didn't deserve a moment of that treatment, not ever.”

She frowned, not expecting this change of pace whatsoever. She pushed herself up to stand, quickly wiping her fingers on the inside of her t-shirt, shuffling closer to him while maintaining adequate distance. With the enchanted heat lanterns angled at the massive venomous tentacula nearby, his face was washed with a glow that gave him a false sense of innocence. Her heart ached as she looked attentively at her former best friend for more than she had in over a year. “Sebastian,” she began, crossing her arms. “Can we talk about this in the morning? You’re drunk.”

“Not anymore,” he replied. “Ominis gave me a rather sobering talk.”

“Still.”

He sighed. “Please… we’ve gone too long without hashing this out. There’s a lot I need to say, and I’m certain the same rings true for you as well, no?”

She nodded, chewing her lip. It took several heavy seconds for him to continue, weighed down by the breadth of time spent apart. “I want to start by apologizing for how I threatened you this evening. I had a few drinks, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.” Even though it sounded like he was reading from a rehearsed script, his expression was genuine. “It wasn't right to scare you that way.”

If you only knew, she thought, but she wasn’t about to give him the benefit of the doubt. She looked down and focused on the small hole in the toe of her slipper. “It’s fine,” she replied, nodding. “No. I’m alright. Thank you for checking on me.”

Truth be told, she just wanted him to wrap it up so she could rub one out already. She couldn’t think of anything but his hand on her throat, and it was giving her a fuckton of bad ideas. When she looked up again he was eyeing her curiously, and the hint of narrowness in his gaze made her bottom lip tuck between her teeth.

“What were you doing here before I arrived?” 

She wondered, at that moment, if he’d spent his free time studying legilimency. Her nonchalance did not convince him. The tells were there: flushed face, rumpled pajamas, the drawstring tucked into her waistband. Still, she didn’t want him to know that she was fingerfucking herself before his surprise appearance; Merlin knows what that would do for his ego. She played it off. “Just checking the growth progress on my mallowsweet.” 

“You’re still a piss poor liar.” He huffed, though a shadow of a genuine smile made an appearance as he clasped his hands in front of him. He studied her, stepping closer. “I’ll need to be honest with you now, but I only ask that you be honest with me in return.” 

“You weren’t before?” She raised an eyebrow.

“What? No, yes—- I was being honest there, truly.” He was tripping over words, evidently still feeling some of the alcohol in his system. “I won’t lie to you, promise.” 

After consideration, she nodded. “Okay, what is it?” I’m probably going to regret this, she thought, leaning against a crate of potting soil. 

Sebastian’s expression was thoughtful, the space between his brows creased. It appeared as though he were trying to choose the proper words. “Over the past couple of years, we’ve… well, I haven’t been myself.” The halfhearted scoff from her was not lost on him, but he continued. “Ever since, you know… that, happened, I’ve experienced these disturbing feelings, impulses that make me want to do terrible things. I don't know how to describe them, but they’re not inherently good. Ominis believes I’m dealing with guilt, but it’s not so simple. It’s not that direct.”

His quiet intensity doubled down then, and he looked at her. “I’ve wanted to… to hurt you.” His voice softened as he said your name. “I’ve thought of unimaginable things, truly awful acts that made me consider my very sanity. Things that you would never deserve in a thousand years. And they aren't just passing through.” The words seemed to leave a foul taste on his tongue. “They stick around. No one knows about it, because how could I admit such a thing? Even now I’m trying to cast them out. I don't know if it’s some kind of repressed anger that you decided against turning me in, forcing me to live with the consequences of my actions without trial…”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m prattling. I just want you to know, this is the reason I’ve been so… distant, with you. It ate me up inside to stay away and it wasn't fair to you without an explanation, but I couldn't trust myself. Even now, or earlier I mean… I don’t know if these thoughts will go away entirely.” Shame settled into his features. “Still, I miss you. I have missed you, and I miss our friendship. I miss…” 

Sebastian blinked for a moment, and before she could interject he was standing right in front of her, hands on the crate behind her. She was locked in, his strong arms a barrier from freedom, but she wasn't about to attempt escape. To do so would mean she couldn't experience him this close, this intense. He towered over her, swallowing, Adam's apple bobbing. “I miss what could have been. Please, be honest with me…” He took her hand then, dwarfing hers. It made her chest tight as he murmured, and the heart was apparent in his words. “Even knowing what I’ve shared, knowing fully well that I want to fight these feelings for you, would you ever… even want, to be friends again?”

Her mouth fell open slightly, the wind out of her sails. The divisiveness in her was tumultuous, warring between slapping him across the face and shouting profanely for the blind selfishness. True that there was deep anger in her heart, but there was also a void that ran deep, a cut that never healed. She looked up at him, let out a sigh, and wrapped her arms around his torso, her face in his chest.

Sebastian was caught off guard, his inhale caught in his windpipe, but he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her in return. He held her so tightly she winced, letting out a small groan, but she didn't shy away, hugging him with equal enthusiasm as they swayed with the shared experience of reconnecting a missing piece after far too long. 

“Can you tell me when those thoughts are too much to ignore?” She asked after several seconds, looking up at him, ignoring the heartbeat that skipped attendance as a result. “I don’t want you to leave me again. That… that was the hardest thing to go through. I mean, we did everything together, and then to just, suddenly not…” She sighed. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

His brow furrowed. “Still relentlessly selfless, I see.” He smiled, and when he breathed she was relieved to find his breath no longer carried the smell of firewhisky, instead just purely him. “I swear to you, I’ll never put you in danger ever again. If I need to talk to someone or, I don't know, distract myself. I’d sooner fling myself from the astronomy tower than knowingly cause you harm.”

She nodded, but her mind was ping-ponging an idea around that made her reconsider her sanity. Rationality missed roll call and so when she looked up at Sebastian, when the rest of the world vignetted around him, the kiss happened all on its own. 

And he was just as eager, holding her body close as he consumed in a heat that scalded her resolve. Those fucking hands of his knew precisely where to hold her, where to pull, an indication that he’d imagined this before into his fist under bedsheets. She moaned with a tender kind of tact, fingers laced in his hair, practically pulling him into her petite form.

He parted to catch his breath moments later, cheeks and nose ruddy with blood flush. “This is okay?” His eyes flickered about her face, honing in on any evidence of disagreement in her expression. “I promise I won’t be rough with you, I--”

“Sebastian,” She murmured, tracing his clavicle as she spoke. Time to come clean. With any luck, he wouldn't be horrified of her. “I… I liked it… when you choked me.”

Brown eyes blinked, and she could practically see the cogs in his head struggle to make a full rotation around her admission. “You… you enjoyed that? But--”

“I loved it.” 

His lips parted then, and she saw a new look in his eyes. Perhaps this was what he sought to keep buried from her and yet here she was, laying in the very mound of dirt he turned up. 

So much is communicated in their gaze. His expression changes, and the paradigm shifts. “Yeah?” His voice has a hint of heat, a sample of what is to come, and the way he comes to terms with this burned slowly in her belly. “You like rough stuff?”

Her face flamed. “I-I never knew… But when you…”

The thought clicked then, and he tilted his head. “…what did you say you were doing in here, again?” 

“…I didn’t.” 

A slow smirk of understanding spread and remained in place, even as his lips crashed into hers. He kissed her with more insistence this time, harder, more ragged breaths than taking her breath away. Sebastian leaned into it, teasing her with his words. “What a little imp you are, scurrying off to rub one out. I’m surprised you didn’t go to your dormitory, where I wouldn’t be able to find you, left to your own devices…”

She gasped as those tactile fucking hands of his settled at her hips, fisting the waistband of her pajamas so hard the woven texture and seams of the fabric left indentations on his palms. Her hands were put to good use then as well, attempting to unbutton his shirt without breaking their kiss, a feat in itself considering how little thought was in her brain regarding anything that wasn’t connected to his body. Sebastian resumed his little wordplay while she untucked his shirt from his trousers. “Someone’s eager, aren’t we?”

“Shut up,” she muttered, and he chuckled while swatting her hands away from his nearly open shirt, grabbing and hoisting her to sit on the crate. Her legs snapped open immediately and Sebastian let out the most beautiful breathy groan, leaning into her as his lips descended the column of her neck. The humidity of the greenhouse gathered a whisper of perspiration along their brows, but the heat between them was something else entirely. Finally undoing his shirt in her conquest, it fell from his shoulders and she couldn’t help but drink him in. “Sebastian, you’re…”

He seemed a touch vulnerable at that moment, but it faded lightning fast as he grabbed the hem of his undershirt and pulled it over his head.

Her brain was rendered a useless mound of matter as she ran her hands over his defined chest, her eyes darting to the enticing trail of hair that disappeared into his trousers. 

“Fuck,” she breathed, and her intrigue spurred him on, fed the deviant within. His hand slid up her torso, deliberately over a braless breast, settling to hold her throat. The other, however, buried between her legs and cupped her mound from over her pajamas. 

The sound she made was positively primal, and she crushed her bottom lip between her teeth as he applied pressure, rubbing his fingers in devastatingly slow circles that made her hips buck. He leaned in close to her ear as she whimpered, nipping a lobe. “That's my girl… sing for me.” 

So she did, letting the moans out freely as he tightened his grip on her neck. Her back arched as his thumb pressed into the side of her throat, and the sensation made her acutely aware of her heartbeat. It throbbed in her head and her sex, her mouth agape as his dark eyes watched her reactions, and the wicked grin he gave her pronounced his excitement. “You like that?” He asked, voice hoarse and low, laden with lust. “You like how I touch you like this?”

She nodded eagerly, trying to control the friction between her legs with more measured motions, and he obliged with enough pressure that her wetness began to wick through the fabric, ample and abundant. “Merlin, you’re already so wet for me.” The way he spoke to her was nothing short of sinful, his voice reaching a lower pitch she’d never heard before. He sped up, letting her rock into his palm as he varied the pressure on her carotid. She could come just like this, pathetic and whining and without having taken any clothing off yet. 

Sebastian seemed intent on making sure she did just that. He leaned down to mouth a nipple from over her thin t-shirt, pulling another beautiful sound of pleasure from her mouth. The cotton wet with his lips around her pebbled peak and it throttled her impending orgasm. Her moans ascended in pitch, and just as she came the hand on her throat loosened. Her climax rocketed through her then, echoing sharply off the glass panels of the greenhouse, and if anyone were in the immediate proximity they would surely know it wasn't the sound of a mandrake that wriggled loose from its pot. Thighs spasming and tight to his sides, she rode out her release against his hand, the soaked crotch of her pajamas goading him on. 

His mouth disconnected from her, capturing her lips in an almost desperate kiss, despite the confidence in his tone. “You’re beautiful when you come for me,” Sebastian purred, and he finally pulled off her shirt, baring her chest. His quiet exhale signaled his enjoyment. “Fuck, look at you…”

“You like what you see?” She found her voice mingled with a new sense of boldness as she palmed her breasts for him, giving him a rightful show. Sebastian uttered an expletive to voice his approval and eagerly claimed her lips in a breathtaking kiss as he undid his belt. 

“God, yes,” his response was airy and rough. “Look what you do to me…”

And look she did, as he untucked himself from his underwear, practically twitching with the reflex of his abs clenching, his cock so hard it could crush diamonds to dust. She bit her bottom lip as he palmed his member, a groan born deep in his chest as she scooted off the crate and sunk to her knees in front of him, the cobblestone floor biting her joints. His cock bobbed at the most beautiful fucking sight he ever saw, and with an eager grasp at his base, she took the tip past her lips.

Sebastian’s head lulled back as he let out a quiet “unh,” drawn out once she slid the rest of his length into her mouth. She took his wrists then, bringing them behind her head, and his body knew precisely what to do as his fingers combed through her hair. With an abrupt thrust, he pushed deep into her eager mouth, and the moan that vibrated around his girth was all the encouragement he needed to repeat the motion. He imparted a slow, but intense pace, and she kept up with a slacked jaw and willing tongue. His cock glistened as it slid past her lips, a delicious mix of her saliva and his precum dribbling down her chin as she let him fuck her pretty mouth. The tip hammered the back of her throat and the sound she made to suppress her gag reflex stirred something in his chest, as if the nature of his ability to determine true love had some dirty little kinks of its own. 

Then again, looking down into her eyes, gone glassy with the effort of her fellation, he had to wonder. 

She didn't offer much room for second thoughts as she bobbed forward, taking him to the very base and then some, her nose pressed into the tufts of hair at his pubic bone. He held her there as she swallowed around his cock, her throat clenched as she sucked hard. With her airways constricted her breath was caught with nowhere to go and she properly choked, her face going red. Sebastian had never experienced something this intense, and he panted with balled fists in her hair to pull tightly. 

His hips snapped, withdrawing from her mouth as she sucked in a breath, so quickly that she coughed from the rush of air. “While I’d love to keep fucking your mouth,” he grinned, and she swore she saw the devil himself, “I need you to come around my cock while I choke that pretty little throat of yours.”

His words were music to her ears. She obliged, and he pulled her up by the hair to stand again, attacking her lips, all teeth and tongues. His fingernails scratched her hips as he wrenched her pajama bottoms down, her panties joining them at her ankles before he lifted her onto the crate again. The wood scraped her bottom but she had no room to protest as his cock commanded her attention, dragging deliciously between her puffy folds. “Sebastian, please,” she mewled almost pathetically, angling her hips in hopes of slipping him in on her own. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he sighed softly, “you’re so wet…”

An unexpected moment of tenderness claimed his senses then and he looked up, their gazes meeting, hearts swelling. He cupped her cheek, swiping a spot of spit from her chin as he leaned in to kiss her with a softness that he wasn't accustomed to. For all the pain he’d known, for all the darkness that stained his being, she was the safe space to embrace. 

And he dare not let go of her. Not again. Not ever.

Her name fell from his lips as he slid inside of her. She hissed quietly as she acclimated to his length, testing his girth with a tightness that sent shivers up her spine. He rolled his hips, and she faced the heavens.

Sebastian was an intense lover, she discovered, his forehead pressed to hers as he fucked her deep, rocking on her ass with his eager motions. She was keen to contribute, her legs pretzeled around his waist, hands gripping his biceps for support, holding on for the ride of her life. Her plush warmth enveloped his cock, a silken heat that pulled him in. Their pace was perfection, enough to build their pleasure without losing traction. 

“Mm, here.” He scooped her up at the bottom, carrying her effortlessly to a nearby workstation, gesturing her to lay her back on the desktop. “I wanna see all of you…”

He grabbed her hips with an almost bruising firmness and continued to fuck her on the workstation, watching his cock pump in and out of her, and she realized with a soft chuckle why he’d chosen this specific desk. No doubt this was a slight dig at her previous crush during their third year, Leander fucking Prewett, when Sebastian had caught them snogging outside the entrance to their common room. He’d teased her relentlessly for it, and now she had half a mind to wonder if it was a little crush of his own developing back then. His wicked grin implied they were on the same page. “You little shit,” she chuckled, but it cut off as he slammed inside, pulling an especially loud moan from her. No room for Gryffindor thoughts in this snake pit. 

Sebastian’s gaze darkened with lust, his hair tousled along his forehead. One of those perfect hands claimed her throat as he shrouded her. “Yes,” she rasped, and he clasped firmly, squeezing precisely where he had to to get her heart thundering through her temples. She realized then, as her pulse became dangerously loud behind her ears, that he was timing his thrusts to her heartbeat. Her back arched with the increased pace, a symphony of gargled moans singing his praises as she quickly ascended the peak of an approaching climax. “Sebastian, I’m—I’m close…”

“I know,” he replied, unyielding in his motions. The edges of her vision greyed, and before she could protest the impending blackout, he eased his grip. At the precise moment that oxygenated blood returned to her brain, she came hard around his cock, hollering his name as she convulsed on the desk. Sebastian didn't stop, however, chasing the tails of his release with reckless abandon, hips pistoning so hard the table jostled and scraped against the floor. When he did come he punctuated it with a growled expletive, holding his hips flush to hers as her spent, quivering sex milked him for all he could give. 

He collapsed onto her chest, kissing her sternum between shallow breaths. “You felt so, so good,” he whispered, craning his neck to offer breathless kisses as she cradled his head adoringly. She gestured to sit upright and he pulled out, sooner than he’d wanted, but he could tell by her soft groan that the firm surface had to be brutal on her spine. 

Instead, she held him, melting into another appreciative kiss. “As did you. That was… I never knew it could feel like that.”

Sebastian chuckled, nosing her cheek with affection. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have left you alone after all.”

Her smile faltered, and he caught the echo of pain behind her eyes. “Sorry, I… I should have talked to you about this sooner. I was wrong to have shut you out this way. I was only trying to ensure your safety.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “I’ll make it up to you, for lost time.”

“You better,” she grinned again, this time with fondness as she brushed the bangs back from his forehead. “And, maybe… we can keep exploring these new enjoyments together. Perhaps by letting you indulge in some rougher activities, it will help.”

Sebastian nodded slowly. “You’d want to do that for me?”

“Of course I would,” She replied without hesitation. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer my assistance?”

A strong brow raised at that, and he smirked. “Oh, is this currently what you would define as friend behaviour between us?” he gestured to their naked forms, flushed pink with post-sex afterglow, glistening with a sheen of sweat. “Merlin, you’ve become awfully chummy.”

She rolled her eyes, thanking him wordlessly as he helped put her shirt back on before retrieving his own. “So you’re assuming I’m you’re girlfriend now or something?”

“Will you?” 

She caught it; fleeting, but there nevertheless, a fond expression that brought back memories of his younger years, a boyish charm that captured her heart long ago. Her Sebastian was still living, hidden beneath layers of tarnish and grime, but certainly there, and she would polish him back to his original splendour and shine. She nodded, and they made plans to meet again sooner rather than later because later was an awful prospect in this touching moment of reunion.

She left the greenhouse with his hand in hers, a changed woman, gladly leaving the bodies of their former selves on the floor, all akimbo and forgotten, a distraction for the pain of the past to feast upon, releasing them from the confines of their creation.

Love is a murder, after all.