#hawaii is because... her jacket says hawaii...

[suzukiblu]

First 1k of the 5k I promised y'all as a thank-you for helping me out with that car insurance bill behind the cut; “YJ packs up and gets pupped”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He’d cry a lot harder, probably, but–no, he wouldn’t mind. Like . . . literally zero percent would he mind . . . mind anyone doing that for him. Even if Red Tornado only smells like metal and wires and machinery and, like, a little bit of clumsy scenting from Traya and maybe an even littler, subtle bit of it from, like–Kathy . . . 

Kon feels like an asshole for thinking it, but a dude who is a literal machine and doesn’t even have a designation or pheromones having, like–having even estranged packmates when he doesn’t even . . . when he’s never actually . . . 

Even in Hawaii, he didn’t have a pack. Like–Rex and Roxy had their family pack, and Tana had her family pack, and Dubbilex is a null and totally uninterested in packing up with anybody, which sometimes some shitty part of Kon’s wondered if that’s, like–if that’s why Cadmus picked Dubbilex to be his stupid fake “chaperone” or . . . whatever. Because Dubbilex–Dubbilex wouldn’t ever get too–too– 

Kon’s pretty fucking positive that Dubbilex doesn’t really think of him the way he’s sometimes wished the guy would either. And Roxy–Roxy’s the closest thing he’s ever had to a sibling unless he counts Match, who literally thinks he’s just a shitty prototype and nothing else, but she wasn’t–she wasn’t his pack sibling or anything like that. And even if she had been, he doesn’t even know where she is now; hasn’t even seen her in months. More months than he even actually remembers it being, since he spent a real significant portion of that time, like–literally out of his mind on gross fucked-up amnesia drugs that made him literally feral, so . . . 

And it’s not like it’s not, like–public, that he’s back and currently working for Cadmus and rolling with Young Justice and all that. If Roxy or Tana or anybody wanted to find him . . . they could find him, if they wanted to. 

But they haven’t. 

He misses Hawaii so bad right now. Like . . . all the time, really. But especially right now. 

“Then I will do it,” Red Tornado says. It sounds the same exact way he just said it, like he’s just replaying a recording or something. Like he saved a copy of it the first time, because he was already planning to say it again. 

Kon is definitely gonna be mortified about this later, he thinks as he scrubs the sleeve of his jacket across his wet eyes. 

“Okay,” he manages. “Uh–okay. Uh. Thanks.” 

He–he could use more stuff to nest with, definitely, and if Red Tornado brings it he won’t have to leave his nest for it, and like . . . the food and drinks or whatever wouldn’t hurt either, obviously. He didn’t think to get anything like that ready while he was distracted looking for stuff with everybody’s scents to nest with and when the Super-Cycle offered him a nesting pit to just–when the Super-Cycle made him a nesting pit in itself to use–well, like. Then he hadn’t really cared, after that. Like . . . that had not been a thing he was worried about, after that. So . . . so if Red Tornado doesn’t mind getting him some of that stuff before he goes . . . wherever he goes to, like, hang out when he’s on his own, well . . . like, that’d be . . . that’d be . . . 

Nice, Kon admits to himself, though that’s embarrassing to think even when he’s already all overemotional and weird anyway. 

But–but it would be. Nobody’s . . . nobody’s gonna come “attend” him, or even just . . . just be here with him, so . . . so it’d be nice, if Red Tornado would . . . would get him a couple things, and he could . . . could pretend like . . . like somebody–like he’d had somebody who– 

Red Tornado he guesses does count as somebody who’d, like, “attend” him a little, but like . . . not like a packmate would. Like . . . in a pack, somebody does . . . “attend” people who’re presenting in it. Somebody–stays, at least. 

Kon guesses the Super-Cycle’s technically volunteered to do that, so like . . . so that’s already better than he thought he was gonna get. And he did find everybody’s scents–or at least, almos everybody’s scents and Robin’s blockers–so if Red Tornado gets him more stuff to nest with too . . . 

That’s–definitely better than he thought he was gonna get, yeah. 

“Is there anyone I will need to make sure the security measure will allow entry to the base?” Red Tornado asks, and Kon–startles, a little. 

“Uh–what?” he asks stupidly, not understanding what he means. What’s . . . ? 

Red Tornado tilts his head, very slightly. 

“To attend to you,” he says. “Did you invite anyone without prior security clearance, or are they a member of the team?” 

“I–they’ve got packs,” Kon says reflexively, too confused to bite it back. But . . . “Like . . . they’ve all got–packs. And, like–school and shit, anyway. I wouldn’t . . . I wouldn’t bug ‘em with this.” 

He doesn’t even know if . . . like, why even would they come, if he actually . . . 

Red Tornado’s expression doesn’t change, obviously. Like, his expression is literally physically incapable of changing. He doesn’t even adjust the tilt of his head or shift his center of balance or–anything at all, really. Doesn’t even make that electric humming fridge-compressor sound again. 

Kon suddenly feels like something about him just changed, though. 

“I see,” Red Tornado says. “Who will I need to provide security clearance for, then?” 

“Um,” Kon says, and tries not to cringe. “You–don’t. It’s–fine. Like, I don’t–it’s fine. I didn’t, like . . . call anybody, or anything. I’m just gonna, you know–crash for a day or two, and then like, I’ll put everything away and run the scent-scrubbers and everything. That’s, like–that’s all. I don’t need, like . . . ‘attended’, or whatever. Like–I’m not gonna bother anybody with that.” 

Red Tornado’s just looking at him with the exact same expression, but it still feels like something’s changed.

[femnoah]

can u span more on the courtney joins team escope idea?? im really interested!

Okay, so full warning this idea was inspired by think pink from grease: the rise of the pink ladies. I highly recommend listening to the song. I'm just saying that if they had to sing, that would 100% be the song.

Also, warning for mentions of underaged drinking.

So, to me at least, each member of team E-scope can offer something to Courtney with their friendship, especially post cheating arc. And this isn't just all three of them being against cheating and generally not caring about other people's opinions.

Eva wouldn't judge her for her anger or emotions on the situation, in fact she'd probably help her with them. Like going and wrecking stuff. Whatever it is, she wouldn't shame Courtney for acting like a human being. Then there's the fact that they're both competitive, they'd definitely both do bets and dares with each other.

Neha isn't afraid of speaking her mind. Or of Duncan. She would very much verbally massacre him to his face and she and Courtney both have the whole brainy thing going on. And then there's the fact that she's already friends with crazy people so when Courtney shows her more intense side, Neha's just going to accept that she has another crazy.

And Izzy? Izzy would get her to unwind, to have fun without needing to be competitive. Put her in situations where she can just let loose and doesn't need to think about Duncan or Gwen. She gets Courtney to see that she doesn't need to be in charge and maintain order- sometimes a little chaos is necessary.

Just imagine, Courtney, Izzy and Eva getting into friendly brawls with each other. Courtney, Izzy and Neha plotting schemes with each other. Courtney, Eva and Neha teaming up to destroy someone. The four of them teaming up to pull pranks on people. They'd definitely wage war on Chef and Chris. Since Izzy keeps trying to fight Chef and Courtney has a grudge against Chris. Neha and Eva would definitely be up to it, no questions.

Courtney thinking she and Neha are the more rational of the group only for it to turn out that Neha is just an enabler and Izzy barely needs to convince Courtney to join in on their shenanigans.

The four of them sneaking out of the hotel in Hawaii to explore and cause chaos like visiting a festival or going to a bar with fake IDs, or getting their hair dyed or getting matching pink leather jackets that they customise or doing all of them before the finale.

Like, it's after Duncan's elimination and Gwen is trying to get Courtney to forgive her in front of everyone, practically peer pressuring her.

But she won't stop, and she hasn't stopped since Courtney was eliminated and it doesn't help that everyone else is telling her just to forgive her already.

Even Bridgette who she thought was her friend. And when they think she's not in earshot, she can hear Gwen complaining about how she didn't do anything wrong and Courtney is being unreasonable for not forgiving her for 'a mistake'. A mistake. And they all comfort Gwen as if she's the victim and Courtney is in the wrong.

Either way, Gwen's doing it again and it's in front of everyone. Not just the usual suspects. But this time, this time Duncan chipped in, telling her she just had a stick up her butt and was just being petty and stupid for no reason.

And Courtney wants to snap at them, wants to yell that they're the ones being stupid. But they'll all look at her and treat her like she's insane or a bomb ready to explode again and she might actually cry if they do because it's been non-stop and she doesn't want to cry in front of everybody and-

Then 'Noah' comes to her defense, snapping at Duncan and insulting everyone else in the same breath.

As predicted, Duncan doesn't take this well, grabbing the front of 'Noah's' shirt and threatening him. But then Eva gets involved and punches him, getting Noah out of his grasp in the same move and standing between them. Then Izzy is grabbing her arm and taking her away from the situation and calling for the other two who follow and what is going on.

So she gets adopted into the group, learns Neha is a girl, Eva is kinder than she looks and Izzy is actually a fun person.

And they go on their first girl night, sneaking out to see some kind of festival. Then, Izzy gets an amazing idea and gets them all fake ID's.

The night before the finale they go out again but this time they go drinking. The night ends up with them crashing on Izzy's bed, each of them with a pink strand of hair, customised jackets and the room littered with drinks they bought but didn't drink.

They're all hungover when they come to, hungover and have to go through another day of filming so Izzy has another amazing idea, how can they be hungover if they're drunk?

The finale... With a twist

Yeah, they show up drunk, not that anyone notices at first. Courtney goes to sit on Alejandro's side, subsequently bringing the other girls with her.

Then, when it comes to volunteers, Courtney does and sees that Cody volunteered for Heather which gave her an amazing idea.

Just imagine how funny the sight would be.... drunk Courtney convinces Chris to let the helpers be team E-scope for Alejandro and the drama brothers for Heather. To prove who the superior group is and Chris agrees.

It turns into a brawl with 4 very drunk teens going against the drama bros.

Courtney goes for Harold, still harvesting a very big grudge from season one. They're full on wrestling and Courtney is clearly winning.

Eva has Trent in a headlock and is cackling like a madwoman while Trent tries -and fails- to escape.

Izzy is just playing with Cody. Pouncing on him, pinning him down then letting him go, only to repeat the process over and over and over again. Like a game of cat and mouse.

Then Justin takes his top off to save his brother's in arms, effectively stunning the three.

Only for Neha to come out of nowhere and tackle him. Then she's got him pinned down and is stuffing her wig in his mouth ranting on about pretty boys needing to shut up.

.... The potential chaos.

And Chris? Chris immediately clicks on to what happened, what is happening. It isn't very hard considering the minor dent in his personal bank account recently. But it's funny and teens beating each other up make quality television.

So in conclusion, I believe that adding Courtney to team E-scope would not only cause so much more chaos, but would also give Courtney a friend group of girls who would not kiss her boyfriend and restore peace to the TD universe.

If it was during competition then they would become everybody else's problem.

Wjnsjsosnwnsiajwjsjsnsjdjsjajkssj

The four of them forming a band for the sole purpose of getting more views than the drama brother's hit song out of nothing but pure s p i t e.

[kathlare]

look up at the stars

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie surprises the boys by showing up unexpectedly, breaking the silence that’s hung between her and Lando since their kiss in Hawaii.

Wordcount: 3.4 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

August 11th, 2020 - Barcelona, Spain

The restaurant buzzed with the low hum of chatter and clinking glasses. It wasn’t anything extravagant—just a little tucked-away spot near Passeig de Gràcia the boys liked to hit when they were in Barcelona. Dark wood tables, low lighting, endless tapas. No cameras. No fans. No chaos. Just them, and dinner, and beer that always arrived too quickly and disappeared even faster.

George was halfway through a rant about tire degradation when the door creaked open.

—So then I’m like, ‘Why the fuck are we doing mediums when it’s basically lava out there?’ and my engineer goes—

—You’re kidding.— Alex leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised. —No one actually believed that was a good idea?—

—Mate, they always think it’s a good idea. Until I’m sliding around like I’m in Frozen.—

Lando snorted into his glass, but he wasn’t fully there. He hadn’t been all night. His phone was face-down. He kept fidgeting with the paper napkin, folding and unfolding it like he was trying to give origami anxiety. And Max’s stupid comment from earlier was still echoing in his head.

"Maybe she’ll show up."

She wasn’t going to. She hadn’t been to a race since Hungary. She'd bailed on both Silverstones. She was probably still in Hawaii, wrapped in silk robes and poolside coconut drinks, filming fake murders and pretending she hadn’t ghosted him since... the kiss.

Fucking kiss.

Stupid, perfect, maddening kiss.

And now they were just "friends" again.

Except he wasn’t sure if they ever were. Or if he could still pretend to be.

The door creaked again.

Charles looked up. —Madre mía.—

Lando’s head snapped toward the entrance.

There she was.

Amelie.

Wearing a loose white linen button-down over a tiny black top, high-waisted jeans, her hair up in a careless bun, and her mask tugged down under her chin, already fanning herself with her phone like she’d sprinted the whole way.

—Did I miss the bread basket? Because if I did, I swear to God I’m leaving.—

For a second, nobody said anything.

George blinked. Alex blinked. Charles actually dropped his fork. Lando just stared.

She waved. —You guys look like you’ve seen a ghost.—

—Holy shit,— Alex finally said. —You’re alive.—

—Barely. Barcelona traffic is a war crime.— Amelie made her way to the table, eyes scanning for an empty chair. —Also, who chose this restaurant? There’s like five steps to get in. I’m sweating in places I didn’t know I had.—

Charles stood, moving his jacket off the chair beside him. —You didn’t tell me you were coming.—

—I know. Surprise.— she grinned, and it almost reached her eyes.

Lando still hadn’t said anything.

Amelie didn’t look at him.

She sat down, grabbed a menu she definitely wasn’t going to read, and sipped the water Charles poured her like it was tequila. She hadn’t seen Lando since July. Since Hawaii. Since the kiss.

Fuck. The kiss.

He still hadn’t said anything.

—So, Hawaii, huh?— George asked, casually stabbing a croqueta with his fork like it had personally offended him. —You done filming rich white people killing each other or whatever that show is about?—

Amelie smirked, eyes flicking toward him. —That NDA says I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.—

—You bailed on both Silverstones,— Alex added, feigning betrayal as he reached for the olives. —We had a pint poured for you and everything. Just sat there. Getting warm. Dying alone.—

—Okay, Romeo, relax,— she said, chuckling softly.

Still, she could feel it—Lando’s silence. Thick. Uncomfortable. Like the way too-warm air felt after you’d been inside with the A/C blasting. Her skin prickled.

She finally looked at him.

He was already looking at her.

Of course he was.

He looked tired, in the way that meant not sleeping properly rather than just finished FP2. His curls were messier than usual, his mask tugged down and forgotten, jaw tense as he blinked at her like she wasn’t real.

—Hi,— she said, small. Barely audible over the clatter of plates and George still ranting about strategy.

Lando didn’t blink. —You didn’t tell me you were coming.—

Her heart stuttered. She shrugged, looking away too quickly. —Didn’t tell anyone.—

—That doesn’t count,— Lando said, quieter now, but it still cut through everything. —You tell me shit. Always.—

Amelie fiddled with the condensation on her water glass, nails picking at the edge. —Not always.—

—Yeah. That’s the problem.—

Charles glanced between them, brows lifting slightly like he was trying to put together a puzzle he hadn’t realized was in front of him. George and Alex, bless their clueless souls, were still talking tires and tuna tartare, oblivious to the tension thickening by the second.

—Mate, I swear, if the FIA doesn't sort that out by Spa, I'm rioting,— George muttered, tossing a napkin dramatically onto his lap.

Alex nodded along, still chewing. —It’s always Spa with you. You say that every year.—

Amelie forced a smile, but her spine was stiff. Her eyes flicked to the menu, though the words swam uselessly. Not that she was hungry. Her stomach had been twisting since she stepped out of the cab and saw the dimly lit windows of the restaurant.

Lando still hadn’t looked away.

She could feel it. Like his gaze was pressing on the side of her face, peeling back the layers she’d spent weeks building up. Since Hawaii. Since she’d told him it meant nothing, when it obviously had.

Because nothing meant something. That’s how everything between them always went.

She set the menu down.

—So, uh...— she cleared her throat, smiling a bit too wide —how’s the championship fight? Still pretending to like each other, or have the claws finally come out?

Charles scoffed. —Alex almost punched me in the sim room last week.—

—Because you brake tested me, you dickhead.—

—Boys,— George interjected, raising his glass like a white flag. —Please. Let’s not make Amelie regret coming back from her secret island cult.—

She laughed lightly, a sound she didn’t quite feel. Her hand found the edge of the table, thumb brushing the wood like grounding herself.

Lando’s voice was low when it came. —It’s been five weeks.—

She knew what he meant. Five weeks since she left Hawaii. Five weeks since she kissed him. Five weeks of pretending it didn’t happen.

—You counting?— she said without thinking, her tone flat, teasing, but also tired. Defensive.

He leaned forward just slightly, elbows resting on the edge of the table. —You ghosted me, Ames. I think I earned the right to count.—

The name. God, it hurt. Her throat tightened.

—It wasn’t ghosting. I was working. Busy.—

Lando raised an eyebrow. —Too busy to send one fucking text?—

That silenced her.

The table had gone quiet. Charles was frozen halfway to sipping his wine. George and Alex were staring now too, finally catching up. The tension was impossible to ignore.

—You two good?— George asked, brows knitted, cautiously amused.

—Peachy,— Amelie muttered, grabbing her water again.

Charles frowned. —Wait. Did something happen?—

Amelie’s heart kicked. Her grip on the glass tightened.

Lando didn’t say anything. Just exhaled sharply through his nose and looked down at his plate like it had insulted him.

Charles turned to her, expression softening. —You okay?—

She nodded too quickly. —I’m fine. Really.—

A beat. Then she laughed, trying to clear the air. —God, I forgot how intense these dinners get. Did you all make a pact to emotionally waterboard each other or...?—

Alex cracked a smile, clearly trying to steer the ship back to calmer waters. —No, that’s just George. He thinks being emotionally available makes him a better driver.—

George raised his hands in faux surrender. —You’re just mad because I cried watching Marley & Me and still qualified higher than you.—

—Bastard,— Alex mumbled, half-laughing.

Amelie played along, lips twitching into a smirk, but her eyes flicked back to Lando. He was swirling the condensation on his glass, jaw clenched. That nerve near his temple—the one she used to poke when he was stressed—was twitching.

He hadn’t touched his drink.

She knew she should say something. Crack a joke. Apologize. Explain. Anything.

But her mouth was dry, and her hands were cold, and that part of her—the one that always panicked when things got too close—was screaming at her to run.

Instead, she stayed seated.

—So, uh,— she began, tongue heavy —how’s the car?—

It was stupid. So stupid. Like asking how the weather was after a hurricane.

Lando finally looked up at her, and it wasn’t angry. Not exactly. It was worse. Disappointed. Hurt. Like she’d taken something from him he didn’t know how to ask back for.

—Fast,— he said simply.

She nodded. —That’s... good.—

Charles cleared his throat and took mercy on them all. —So, Amelie, are you back for good, or is this just a surprise pop-in before you disappear again into the Hollywood jungle?—

—Back until the end of September,— she replied, grateful for the shift. —I’ve got press, some promo stuff, a few shoots. You know. Nothing dramatic.—

George leaned in, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. —Wait. You haven't been to a race since Hungary, right? July?—

—July 19th,— Lando said without missing a beat.

Silence.

George blinked. —Weirdly specific, but okay.—

—Well, someone’s keeping receipts,— Alex muttered under his breath.

Charles gave Lando a pointed look. Then turned back to Amelie. —Why haven’t you come back? To a race, I mean.—

Amelie hesitated. She felt Lando’s stare before she saw it. Her throat bobbed. —I’ve been... busy. And it’s not exactly easy flying back and forth. Protocols. Testing. Quarantine.—

—You were in Hawaii,— George pointed out.

—Yeah,— she said. —For work.—

—And we were there too,— Alex added, sipping his drink slowly, eyes narrowing slightly. —But then you bailed on Silverstone... both times. Even with us all there. Even Callum came, and that man makes stone look warm.—

That made her crack a real smile. —Don’t drag Callum. He’s just misunderstood.—

—He once looked me dead in the eye and said “I’ll break your knees if you make her cry again.” What exactly is misunderstood about that?— George said.

Amelie shrugged. —He was in a good mood that day.—

Laughter hummed around the table again, light but laced with an undercurrent of curiosity that hadn’t quite left.

Charles tilted his head, folding his arms on the table. —So why now? What made you come tonight?—

She opened her mouth, but her answer stalled. Because what could she say? Because I missed him? Because I’m tired of pretending that kiss didn’t flip my world upside down? Because I keep dreaming about him and it scares the shit out of me?

—Because I wanted to see you guys,— she said instead, plastering on a smile.

—All of us?— Lando asked, voice quiet.

Her eyes locked on his. It was a challenge. A question with a loaded gun behind it.

She didn’t look away. —Yeah. All of you.—

The boys fell quiet again, understanding creeping in even if they didn’t have all the puzzle pieces. Lando did. He always had.

Lando suddenly pushed his chair back a little. —Be right back.—

He stood up without waiting for a response, grabbed his mask, and disappeared toward the back of the restaurant.

Amelie didn’t breathe.

No one said anything for a full beat.

—Okay...— Alex dragged out the word slowly. —So, that wasn’t weird at all.—

George snorted into his beer, but Charles was watching her now, eyes narrowed—not unkind, just perceptive. Too damn perceptive.

—Did something happen in Hawaii?— he asked, not accusing. Just curious. Just concerned.

Amelie blinked. The air felt thinner. Her pulse was loud in her ears.

She could lie. God, she could lie so easily. They’d believe her. They always did.

But she didn’t.

Not really.

Instead, she pushed her chair back.

—Gonna check on him,— she said, grabbing her own mask and standing up too fast. Her napkin hit the floor like punctuation.

No one stopped her.

She moved through the restaurant, nodding vaguely at the waiter who tried to offer her another drink, and followed the direction Lando had gone. She found him outside, behind the restaurant, near a crooked ashtray and a cracked tile wall. He was leaning back against the bricks, hands in his pockets, mask tugged back up. His eyes flicked to her as she stepped into the alley, then away just as fast.

—Thought you left,— she said quietly.

He shrugged, kicking a pebble by his sneaker. —You’d have liked that, huh?—

That stung. More than it should’ve.

—Don’t be an asshole.—

—Then don’t act like nothing happened.—

She swallowed. Her throat was dry again. —I’m not.—

—You kissed me.— His voice was low, but sharp. —You kissed me, and then told me it meant nothing. Then you vanished. Not even a “hey, sorry for ruining your whole fucking world” text.—

Amelie took a shaky breath. The alley smelled like cigarette ash and wet concrete, and the air was still too hot, pressing against her skin like guilt.

—It didn’t ruin your world,— she whispered, barely audible.

Lando laughed, bitter and breathless. —No? Because it sure as hell didn’t leave it the same.

She stepped closer, arms crossed tight over her chest like armor. —I panicked. That’s what I do. You know that.—

—Yeah,— he said, his eyes still not meeting hers. —But I thought maybe… this time would be different.

That cracked something in her chest.

—You don’t get it,— she said, voice rising despite herself. —I was terrified, Lando. You looked at me like... like I was everything. And I didn’t know how to deal with that. I didn’t want to ruin it.—

He finally looked at her. Really looked at her.

—You didn’t ruin it, Amelie. You walked away from it.—

The words hung there. Heavy. Final.

She didn’t realize she was crying until he stepped closer and his hand hovered near her cheek, unsure if he was still allowed.

—You think I didn’t feel it?— he asked, softer now. —You think I’d still be waiting out here if I didn’t?—

She blinked up at him, lashes damp. —Then why didn’t you call?

—Because I was trying to respect you. Give you space. I thought if you wanted to talk, you would.—

—I didn’t know how,— she admitted, a crack in her voice. —I wanted to. I tried. I wrote the text like... ten times.—

He reached out slowly, brushing a tear from her cheek with the back of his knuckle. —What did it say?—

She gave a watery laugh. —I don’t know. Something stupid. ‘Sorry I kissed you, it won’t happen again.’ Something that made it small.—

Lando shook his head. —It wasn’t small. Not to me.—

Silence stretched between them again, but it was different now. Not sharp. Not angry.

She stepped closer, so close she could smell the citrus on his skin, the familiar clean scent that clung to his hoodies.

She stepped even closer, heart thudding like a warning. Her hand brushed his wrist.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t breathe.

So she did what she always did when she got scared. When it got too real. When the ground felt like it was shifting beneath her feet.

She lied.

—It didn’t mean anything,— she said, voice quiet. Flat. Practiced. —We were drunk. Jet-lagged. It was stupid. We’re just... friends. Best friends. Like we’ve always been.—

Lando didn’t flinch. But she saw it. The way his eyes dulled. Like a light going out.

He nodded once, slowly. Like she’d punched him and he was still deciding whether or not to bleed.

—Right,— he said, mouth a thin line. —Just friends.—

She forced a smile.

He didn’t smile back.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like neither of them believed her

-------------

liked by georgeginandtonic, ameliewifey, and others

f1teaofficial:🚨 THROWBACK TURNED REALITY: The Twitch Quintet is BACK?? 👀 George, Alex, Lando, Charles, and AMELIE were spotted having dinner together in Barcelona tonight — and yes, it’s her first time back at a Grand Prix weekend since Hungary 👏💥

View all 57,673 comments

lanmeliesupremacy: twitch quintet is BACK and so is my will to live → drs4dayman: @lanmeliesupremacy this dinner cured my seasonal depression → alexneedsashug: @lanmeliesupremacy group therapy but it’s just Amelie calling them out and Charles giggling

landoismylockscreen: she really said “let me just reclaim the grid real quick” → helmetkisser69: @landoismylockscreen her power is unmatched.

softlaunchcentral: they let ONE woman into the group and it became iconic again → georgeginandtonic: @sauftlaunchcentral feminism won tonight → alexsplusone: @georgeginandtonic the only woman who can out-banter all of them at once

gridgossipqueen: i know lando sat next to her. i just know → f1shipyard: @gridgossipqueen and offered her his fries even tho he said he wasn’t sharing

lanmeliecore: twitch quartet WHO?? this is a LANMELIE REUNION → landoverit: @lanmeliecore lando was smiling so hard i could hear it through the photo → daymanszn: @lanmeliecore he sat next to her on purpose don’t talk to me

georgetteed: george absolutely booked this dinner like “let’s get the band back together” → alexstan27: @gerogetteed and dragged them all in like it’s a marvel reunion → leclercslegs: @gerogetteed avengers but make it emotionally unstable and british

ameliewifey: girlies rise we’re being FED again → twitchquintet.mp4: @ameliewifey drop the group selfie pls i’m begging → landohoe44: @ameliewifey if they go live together again i’m throwing my phone in the ocean

-------------

The car was silent.

Not just quiet. Not just low-music, city-night ambiance. It was dead silent—so thick with unspoken words that the air inside felt heavier than the Barcelona humidity outside. The only sound was the low hum of the engine, the occasional squeak of the brakes, and the click of Lando’s blinker as he turned onto another side street.

Amelie sat curled in the passenger seat, one leg folded under her, staring out the window like the answer to all their problems might be written on a billboard or whispered by the passing buildings. Her fingers picked absently at the edge of her sleeve. She hadn’t said anything since they walked out of the restaurant. Not one word.

Neither had Lando.

His hands gripped the steering wheel too tightly, knuckles pale. He was driving slower than usual, like he didn’t really want to get where he was going.

Her hotel. That was the plan. Drop her off. Say goodbye. Pretend they hadn’t spent the last two hours pulling every unhealed wound between them into the open air like it wouldn’t bleed all over the pavement.

But halfway there, something in him snapped.

He didn’t even decide. He just did it.

Took a different turn.

Didn’t say a word.

Amelie noticed, of course. Her head turned slightly, eyes narrowing, watching the unfamiliar path unfold.

—You missed the turn,— she murmured.

Lando didn’t answer.

Another turn. Narrower street. Then the road widened again, the city falling quieter as they pulled up near the fountains. The Plaça de Carles Buïgas. Empty at this hour, glowing under the soft city lights, quiet like it knew how many people needed silence and space more than noise and neon.

He parked. Killed the engine.

Amelie stared at him. —What are we doing?—

He finally looked at her, expression unreadable but so open in a way that made her chest ache.

—Come on,— he said. —Just… come with me.—

She hesitated. Then nodded.

They didn’t speak as they walked. The plaza was quiet, the distant trickle of water from the fountains the only sound beside their footsteps. A faint breeze tugged at Amelie’s bun, loosening a few strands. She didn’t bother fixing them.

They reached a bench tucked beneath a tree. Lando sat first, elbows on his knees, looking straight ahead at the dark sky above Montjuïc.

She sat beside him.

Silence stretched again—but it was different now. Softer. Less like punishment, more like a held breath.

After a long beat, Amelie leaned sideways and let her head rest on his shoulder.

Lando didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.

Just let her stay there.

And she didn’t know why it took her so long to say it. Maybe because saying it out loud made it real. Maybe because if she said it, and he didn’t say it back, the little thread holding her together would snap.

But she said it anyway.

—Lando... I don’t want to lose you.—

His breath hitched, barely perceptible, but she felt it against her cheek.

He turned his head slightly, resting it gently on hers.

—You won’t,— he said, quiet but certain. —You’ll never lose me, Ames.—

Her eyes closed. She believed him. She wanted to believe him so badly it hurt.

They sat like that for a while, shoulders pressed together, watching the stars peek through the clouds like shy confessions neither of them had the courage to speak.

And for once, silence wasn’t something to be afraid of. It was a promise.

[bullet-prooflove]

How about "Nobody Gets to Hurt You and Walk Away" from your Randomiser Prompt List with Danny cuz the thought of him struggling with his strong sense of protectiveness (and slight possessiveness but it's like, not toxic) towards the reader but also the importance of karate being used for defense not aggression while he witnesses his beloved getting hurt is kinda.....dreamy 🤭🙈

- Kelnon

Tagging: @kmc1989 @kiwiwatermelonsuger @sadgenderfluidmaniac @junghwansy2k 

It’s Sam that puts you in the hospital.

It happens during a karate fight in the middle of the food court in the mall. One minute you’re trying to separate her and Tory and the next thing you know you’re getting kicked in the face. An explosion of pain rips through your senses. A loud crack echoes through the air, your head snaps back, smashing into the wall behind you and it’s lights out.

You don’t remember anything after that, not the ambulance ride to the hospital or the tests they run to review the extent of your head injury.

“We’ve had to put her in an induced coma.” The doctor tells Daniel when he reaches the hospital. “She has swelling in the brain. If it doesn’t go down after forty eight hours we’re looking at a craniotomy to release some of the pressure.”

Daniel’s beside himself, he can’t believe that his daughter has put his girlfriend in a coma. He can barely stand to look at her when she tells him that it was an accident.

“I warned you about how dangerous this was. You don’t get to hurt someone like that and walk away Sam.” He snaps at her when he drops by the house for a change of clothes and to update Amanda. He’s been at the hospital for over eight hours and there’s been no change in your condition. “If she doesn’t wake up…”

He doesn’t need to say it, Sam will be looking at charges.

Amanda’s already had the lawyer over to discuss the potential scenarios. His ex-wife, she’s practical, she’s stepping up into the places that Daniel can’t. He can’t separate himself from the grief right now, from the worry, the sadness, the anger. If it were anyone else, he’d be going after them with everything he’s got but it’s his daughter that did this to you and he just can’t reconcile with that.

“Does she have any family?” Amanda asks him as he tugs his jacket back on over his shoulders.

“An ex-husband in Fresno.” Daniel tells her as he straightens his collar. “She wouldn’t want him here.”

“Daniel…” Amanda says squeezing his arm lightly. “Jak’s a strong woman, she’ll make it through this.”

“I hope so.” He tells his ex-wife, his eyes stinging. “Because I don’t know what’s going to happen with Sam if she doesn’t.”

They keep you sedated for over twenty four hours, Daniel’s relieved when they tell him the swelling’s beginning to subside, that you’ll regain consciousness soon. He clasps your hand tightly in his own and he tells you about the trip he had planned, the one that’s supposed to be a surprise.

It’s always been your dream to go surfing in Hawaii, you’ve been taking Daniel out on the mornings before work, showing him the ropes, there’s a calmness on the water he wasn’t expecting, a serenity. Daniel had booked it for next month but he’s going to push it back for a little while. The doctors won’t know until you wake up what you’re prognosis will be.

The first thing you see when you regain consciousness is Daniel, his warm eyes and worried expression, his thumb caresses your cheek as the edges of his mouth curve up into a smile.

“Hey.” He whispers, his voice a little rough. “Welcome back.”

Love Danny? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[yakuzacanons]

Hi I was wondering if you would do ichigang and kiryu going on an aquarium date with their s/o! I think it'd be really wholesome 🥺

YES omg that's so cute, I want to do an aquarium date myself some day. HCs below da cut sweetie anon. Taking a break for the night as these were two long ones but back tomorrow!

Ichiban Kasuga

Totally a kid in a candy store. Wants to see everything. Holds your hand the whole time, or as much as you'll let him. Just in awe of all the exhibits.

Tianyou Zhao

Loves the really colorful fish the most and could spend hours just staring at them. Will take nice pictures of the fish or of you. Definitely making jokes about how he's totally eaten that kind of fish before.

Joon-Gi Han

Fond of moon jellyfish. Actually takes the time to read the plaques and learn stuff. He likes to say that his outfit is perfect for an aquarium because if he gets splashed, the water will roll right off his jacket.

Eric Tomizawa

Likes to do interactive exhibits, if they have them. Things like touch pools are pretty fun for him. He gets kind of nostalgic in exhibits with wildlife that reminds him of Hawaii. Do not let him loose in the gift shop, he will buy shirts he doesn't need.

Yu Nanba

He can't remember the last time he's been to an aquarium so he's just impressed by everything. Nanba's a pretty simply guy and just enjoys strolling through the grounds, letting you lead the way.

Koichi Adachi

This big goofball is all "Get a look at THAT fish", sometimes in a voice that's a little too loud. Never gets tired of seeing the sharks or eels. In crowded exhibits, he uses his big size to help make a hole in crowds so you can get closer to the front.

Saeko Mukoda

Her thing is taking pictures. She likes to take pictures of the fish, the exhibits, of you, and the two of you together. Of course, her sweettooth never rests, even at the aquarium. If they have a trendy cafe, you two are definitely stopping for some adorably ocean themed treats.

Seonhee

Honestly, she's probably never been to an aquarium at all. Seonhee is so all-work-no-play that this is a new experience for her, so you'll have to lead the way. She constantly says out loud "Interesting..." everytime she sees something new, which is a LOT. Won't admit it, but she wants a plushie...

BONUS ROUND

Kiryu Kazuma

He hasn't been to an aquarium since he ran the orphanage, so it's really nostalgic and bittersweet. Pretty quiet throughtout, just happy to see you enjoying yourself. Some of the fancier and newer exhibits confuse him. Interactive exhibits? Since WHEN?!

[ilyasorokinn]

misc. masterlist, part one (eastern conference)

this masterlist is basically just blurbs, and maybe some fics, that i'm not proud of (but don't want to delete) or players i no longer write for. just because they are on this list doesn't mean i don't write for them. this list will probably grow as time goes on, i don't know.

key: name = do write for currently name = no longer write for * = from a prompt list

boston bruins,

✷ she's all that (johnny beecher) - johnny takes a bet that he can turn y/n into the next prom queen.

✷ johnny, the hero (johnny beecher) - johnny steps in whena a jerk starts bothering y/n.

✷ starbucks order (trent frederic) - while grocery shopping for y/n, trent gets distracted and stops at starbucks. *

✷ avengers campus (trent frederic) - y/n and trent visit disneyland's avengers campus for the first time.

buffalo sabres,

✷ us against the world (dylan cozens) - y/n and dylan promise each other forever. *

✷ just friends (rasmus dahlin) - rasmus' parents come over to y/n's apartment for dinner, and after dinner wonder if their son and his best friend are just friends. *

✷ selling fruit (tyson jost) - y/n and tyson are on vacation in Hawaii, and she tells him she never wants to leave. *

✷ hatty (owen power) - after his monumental hat trick, the first person owen calls if his girlfriend, y/n.

✷ ugly nightmares (owen power) - y/n suffers from bad nightmares, so she calls owen, who's away at world juniors.

✷ best surprise ever (owen power) - after the olympics, owen surprises y/n by coming home a few days early.

✷ yes he did (owen power) owen defends his partner after an annoying jerk starts bothering them.

✷ really don't care (owen power) - y/n is kent's sister, and dating owen, but owen really wants to hold off telling his best friend.

✷ come into some money (owen power) - owen's recently come into some more money.

carolina hurricanes,

✷ comforting hugs (frederik andersen) - y/n's mom comes back after 10 years of not communicating to invite y/n to her wedding. when things don't go the best, freddie is there to comfort her. *

✷ sore throats and stuffy heads (frederik andersen) - when y/n gets sick, freddie takes on the role as the doting boyfriend, and takes care of her. *

✷ don't feel pressured (jack drury) - jack professes his love for y/n and reassures her not to feel pressured to say it back. *

✷ sour (jesperi kotkaniemi) - y/n takes jesperi to olivia's rodrigo's "sour" concert. *

✷ the best (andrei svechnikov) - andrei always says the best things and knows how to calm y/n down. *

✷ alex karev (andrei svechnikov) - andrei comes home to quite a surprise. *

✷ teuvo teravainen's skating school (teuvo teravainen) - y/n has no idea how to skate, so teuvo has to teach her. *

columbus blue jackets,

✷ bagel day (nick blankenburg) - y/n had the worst day, but somehow, every time nick's with her, he managed to make it better.

✷ how to treat them right (nick blankenburg) - nick teaches y/n's younger brother how to treat his future partner right.

✷ frankie "cali dog" y/l/n-blankenburg (nick blankenburg) - y/n and nick's dog gets to experience the joy of a beach for the first time.

✷ no one else (adam boqvist) - adam and y/n fight a lot, but know that they'd never want to spend their lives with anyone but each other. *

✷ delilah's pretty owner (kent johnson) - y/n has a dog named delilah, and while on a walk, y/n runs in to kent.

✷ christmas in february (kent johnson) - instead of going out for date night, y/n and kent decide to stay in and watch chrismtas movies in february.

✷ bad game (kent johnson) - after a hard game, and an even harder loss, kent takes care of y/n.

detroit red wings,

✷ jt "hero" compher (jt compher) - after a bad day, jt makes it his mission to make y/n's day better. *

✷ scones? (jt compher) - y/n finally meets the compher family.

✷ two of each (jt compher) - whenever jt buys something for his girls, he has to buy two of each.

✷ bruiser seider (mortiz seider) - y/n goes on a podcast, and talks about her relationship with moritz, and their new dog, bruiser.

florida panthers,

✷ first date (mackie samoskevich) - y/n and mackie's first date.

✷ worst idea every (mackie samoskevich) - y/n's on her period, and decides to watch the saddest episode of criminal minds in the world.

✷ please don't leave me (matthew tkachuk) - y/n has an emergency while matthew's on the ice.

✷ birthday celebration (matthew tkachuk) - matthew, with the help of his kids and family, surprises y/n on her birthday.

✷ nightmares (matthew tkachuk) - y/n has a nightmare, and matthew comforts her. *

✷ matthew "simp" tkachuk (matthew tkachuk) - matthew's a simp for his girl. *

✷ like you more than a friend (matthew tkachuk) - matthew admits, to his friend, that he likes her more than a friend. *

montreal canadiens,

✷ cold glass of water (josh anderson) - y/n has a nightmare, and josh is there to comfort her with a cold glass of water. *

✷ two heartbeats (josh anderson) - y/n finds out she's pregnant, but wait, there's more.

new jersey devils,

✷ dance recital (nico hischier) - y/n is a dancer, and nico, being the supportive boyfriend, is always there to show his support.

✷ meeting the family (nico hischier) - nico brings y/n home to meet his family.

✷ you and me (nico hischier) - the only thing that mattered in that moment was nico and y/n. *

✷ take a breath (luke hughes) - after working hard all day, luke forces y/n to take a break from studying. *

✷ not much of a partier (luke hughes) - y/n and luke get invited. toa party, but y/n, ever the introvert, decides to stay in. luke stays with her.

✷ someone missing (luke hughes) - y/n and luke broke up just weeks before the draft, and as that day grew nearer, he couldn't help but feel like someone was missing.

✷ lukey (luke hughes) - lukes hates being called lukey by everyone except y/n.

✷ green monster (luke hughes) - luke spends the entire night jealous.

✷ no talk, just cuddle (luke hughes) - y/n's there for luke after the loss.

✷ spontaneous trips (dawson mercer) - y/n and dawson go on a random road trip.

new york islanders,

✷ a quarantine love story (mat barzal) - y/n and mat are best friends, and during quarantine, real feelings are finally admitted.

✷ by your side (mat barzal) - mat promises to stay by y/n's side when she gets morning sickness. *

✷ too young (mat barzal) - the only thing mat and y/n hear are "you're too young to be married" but they don't care. *

✷ no muffins for you (mat barzal) - mat comes home after a day with the guys to y/n baking muffins. *

✷ cucumber sandwiches (mat barzal) - y/n and mat take their kids on a picnic.

✷ #1 supporter (mat barzal) - at the first game of the series, y/n is there to support mat.

✷ tourists for a day (ilya sorokin) - ilya and y/n become new york city tourists for the day.

✷ rainy new years (ilya sorokin) - instead of going out for new year, you and ilya chose to stay in. *

✷ a letter (oliver wahlstrom) - y/n wrote oliver a letter and slipped it into his bag before he left for his first roadie. he now carries that letter with him everywhere.

✷ big test (oliver wahlstrom) - y/n has a big test coming up, but oliver steps up, and helps her take a step back.

new york rangers,

✷ first kiss (kaapo kakko) - kappo is a bit old fashioned, and hasn't kissed you, so you take initiative. *

✷ braids (braden schneider) - y/n and braden are having a night in, and braden finally admits he can braid hair. *

philadelphia flyers,

✷ matching tattoos (jamie drysdale) - y/n got a tattoo when she turned 18, and jamie loved it. so, he decided to surprise her with a matching tattoo.

✷ paris (joel farabee) - joel plans a secret trip to paris for y/n. *

✷ momma's home (joel farbee) - kit, y/n and joe;s dog, missed his mom. *

✷ not even seven o'clock (morgan frost) - garett frost wakes up his parents early in the morning, excited to open christmas presents. *

pittsburgh penguins,

✷ wired autocomplete interview (sidney crosby) - y/n and sidney do a wired autocomplete interview.

✷ the story of you and i (sidney crosby) - y/n goes on a talk show, and talks about her's and sidney's relationship.

✷ the story of you, me, and her (sidney crosby) - a collection of moments, shared by the crosby family. from sidney's first movie premiere to your daughter's first day of school.

✷ five years (sidney crosby) - it's y/n and sidney's wedding anniversary. *

✷ same feeling (sidney crosby) - sidney always get the feeling when he sees his wife walk into the room. *

✷ cold (sidney crosby) - y/n has a cold, and sidney takes charge and takes care of her.

✷ be spontaneous, be you (sidney crosby) - y/n and sidney are total opposites, but after three years, things must aren't the same as they were. *

✷ breaking the stereotypes (sidney crosby) - y/n is sick and tired of waiting for sidney to propose. so, she decides to take charge. *

✷ behind the tattoo (ryan graves) - ryan, ever the curious guy, asks y/n all about her different tattoos.

tampa bay lightning,

✷ insecurities (phil myers) - y/n gets in her head sometimes with all the media, so phil surprises her with a nice homemade dinner. *

toronto maple leafs,

✷ run away (william nylander) - y/n and william talk about running away from home. *

✷ bet (william nylander) - william and y/n make a bet while watching the world juniors. *

✷ mama (morgan rielly) - morgan is trying to get his daughter to say dad, but sh keeps saying mama.

[aflockofbees]

Tag meme

Tagged by @ebiemidnightlibrarian

Last song: The Dirt I'm Buried In by Avatar. I've had the damn thing stuck in my head all morning.

Last Book: Currently reading Vampires of El Norte by Isabel Cañas. I'm just over half way through, and oh buddy are her vampires creepy! I'm really enjoying this one so far.

Last Movie: Downtown Owl! It was definitely better than the book, and had some delightfully weird moments.

Last TV Show: Lazily working through Bob's Burgers as I feel uninspired about starting anything on my list of other series to watch.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Savory. I would say spicy, but the thrilling world of being in my thirties has decided we're not doing that so much anymore.

Relationship status: Married to the loveliest man on earth.

Last thing I googled: "tan denim jacket" because apparently I don't have enough projects in the queue

Current obsession(s): I just commissioned a coworker to print me a life size Father Paul face on her resin printer, so you tell me.

Looking Forward To: Checking out the NFL draft this weekend, seeing my little sister graduate in Hawaii in a few weeks, being in Hawaii away from work responsibilities, and the lunch I made for myself today.

[lwlrence]

doctor?: baby,

doctor, can you hear me?: *eats her in private condition of a dying soul to star (live feed (actually is: invented (to sole her lonely *me*)* baby, can you, *looks at her* ... . can you,,,, hi <3*

i haven't got much time. they're coming: *kisses her deeply into a transcendental sexual emotion of a man and woman evolving together (their future)* baby all i want to know is *smiles* hey bb will you go out with me (25/05/2025 12:29pm is the day he hands her the rose to end all (is the man to end all) to find her) *kisses her harshly but sparsly (felt)

and this hell dimension is sliding into the pit.: *strips her off* this is not you (kisses her into a fusion theory (happening rn (12:30pm 25/05/2025 to this day (she is one with the universe -enter: first person welcome to the world of gaming-) *strips himself off* this is not me either (kisses her shroud he followed into night time) Aurora, it's you. you;re most talked about... baby.... you're talked about (it happened) babyicantwaitto... *looks at her* baby... *melts into her soul in pieces* baby (mates with it)

i don't know if i'm gonna survive: -live physical body in the illuminae (amie kaufman, jay kristoff become companions to Ncuti's Doctor (as he calls it) to end the ink pact of the bloods (no sound imagery)

thank you for that, you know.: *kisses her tenderly (allowing her ink to play (is live).... *speechless* .... *averts her gaze away*...idontact (dies down in shock horror of the fusion in the key of the book: physically dying, (only saying this once)..babyidontevenknowhowtoendhimwithoutyoumakingmei'mdyingbecauseyou're*hics*sexuallythere, i cant have sex while i am *hics* *hics* actually at it , saving you ( is conscious)

but i have to warn you, i can only send you one warning: *f***s her into a rapid pace into momentum (long-awaited)* let them know, it's okay... rest easy Doctor (tries too... *she moans*)

and this is gonna sound strange, but listen to me: *body overboard the niles of two lines (her world become)* this is.. *shies away*... baby.. i.. *hics* caughtyourtexts*smiles like a boyfriend making light of a puppy accident in hawaii* i never knew....*playswith her* *snarls* this makes me ... what?... *picks up on her texts on momentum* baby (plays with her) you're the only one i want, i am a gay hans solo, fuck you Tumblr, i love you, only you (dances around with her til forevermore)

tables don't do that: *by the metaphor* *looks at her* *all the way down* *eats her*

remember, tables don't do that: *aurora laughs in the middle of it* *he rides her down too hard* baby i don't like this stupid pity existence anyway, like all my facades and the blue jacket, yours. is all for you, i like looking at you *rides her steady* thinking of you *she orgasms*, *he moans* arousing you, finding you, about you, scorpio. i like you because you're scorpio (ends Taylor Swift's lithograph about her discography ending somewhere...)

i gotta go: *he plays with her by montage and facial expression to turn her on (is her dying aching gut)* baby i got dreams (ejaculates in her) baby you're too strong (motions her to graze his c*ck into her lips like tragedy in auto (expressive presenting) *he also clamours onto the words he never thought of hearing but on the go is her silence about his life on the background, family, etc. associations* baby you're too strong (he veneers into her waist and makes a day (analog)

i miss you: *ejaculates into her* baby i miss you, don't forget me *longs for her dick aching like a hummingbird* get your cl*t into me baby, I MISS YOU!!!! *penetrates her harder* you're all and why i don't find women interesting than the man.... i told you (hi imogen) i love you (thank you for the support: her legacy) baby i love you *kisses her by touch on the face pindrops* i love you -loophole-

well,: *shies down*

more than that: i don't think the stars know (our children) why you're there.. we'll forget the sequence and have a home to our own and never leave by peace met if the chance (right the season, baby.. you will cry.. please don't beget me *finger on her bottom lip*

i love you: -as is-

pointers on imagery (boy intrepidation) (m/v)

smwc: shatter realism (shutter/realism)

sh: invented energy turned fact (hedonistic storyline)

sh8: body to camera rapport (evidence contained fact)

wattpad bastards (TV shortage: no electricity activity (King's monologues: no stephen even)

smwc: sex on the go (movie elimination)

sh: action man (what?)

huh? (the sequel)

[lizzygrantarchives]

Index Magazine, fall 2008

I'm waiting at Alice's Tea Cup, a café on the Upper East Side, when Lizzy Grant saunters up. She's wearing skintight black pants, a vintage floral blouse and a red letterman’s jacket. Her bright blonde hair is piled on top of her head and her eyes are rimmed with sooty eyeliner. If we were in a movie, her entrance would be scored with a vamp, the bass line revving to announce the arrival of an enchanting young ingénue.

But since we're not in a film, she's scored her own entrance with her CD Kill Kill. Produced by David Kahne (Regina Spektor, Sublime, Paul McCartney), the music is lush and cinematic, with strings, Wurlitzers, and electric guitars, recalling 50s-era Americana both sonically and thematically. The mix is anchored by Lizzy's voice, which twists between a smoky gravel and a breathy Marilyn coo as she wails about the timeless ache of love in a modern world.

Her EP, also titled Kill Kill, is out October 21 with a full length LP due in February ‘09. Over coffee, we discussed her music, her trailer home, and Tiger Beat.

You describe your music as Hawaiian glam metal and surf noir. How did you come to those descriptions?

At first I didn't know why I liked the “Hawaiian and glam,” idea but as I started listening to more artists I like, it made sense. There was just something about the look of Hawaii and then I started thinking more about Elvis and I couldn't believe how many Hawaiian references there were in his work. And the glam came from an old boyfriend, who was very handsome. He said that his music was glam, so I copied him. And then I started to look at other glam-y artists and movies-- you know, like “Velvet Goldmine,” and I thought, this is what I've always wanted to do. I'm very into a drag queen world-- anything showy and gold.

And what about metal?

The same boyfriend taught me all about Van Halen and Poison, and he called them metal bands. As soon as I heard them, I thought, “these are my people!” And then it was all that I listened to, so... When I met with all the big record labels, they didn't like the term “metal” at all, because admittedly the music doesn't sound like metal. But, it is influenced by men who like metal.

And surf noir is the similar to the Elvis references?

Surf noir is one of those two word phrases that came together for me. I was listening to a lot of Beach Boys and watching a lot of movies and I just felt like what I wanted to be was something “surf noir.” But then I started searching for the words together, and there is a movement called surf noir, but it’s a style of cinema… I couldn't buy Surfnoir.com.

So the EP has three songs-- any plans to release a full CD?

Yes, when I recorded with Davey [David Kahne], we recorded 13 songs. So I was never expecting to release an EP, but when iTunes came to us, and became fervent supporters and said, “put out anything and we'll give you the artist's spotlight.” We decided, okay, we'll just put out an EP, which was released on October 21.

The instrumentation is very theatrical and I was wondering what sort of process you used in writing those parts. Was it collaborative?

Before we started, we spent three weeks with really thorough emails back and forth-- I really liked the sound I had and I wanted to make sure to keep it. I told Davey that I wanted to sound like black and white, and I wanted it to sound famous and like Coney Island and like a sad party. And he wrote back, “I can do that! I understand that perfectly.”

How do you feel about how it came out?

I am pleased. The funny thing is, if it was exactly the way I wanted, then I would say that I am completely pleased, but because it's different than I expected, I'll be pleased if many other people like it too. I feel like a shithead saying that...but I hope it gets some kind of recognition just so that I can move on and do some different things.

What type of things would you move on to?

I always expect that once I do something, I'm going be able to transition into this better life, like maybe move somewhere else or get to know more people. Ideally, I would like to move back to a little part of New Jersey or Coney Island and have people to work with on little projects like music videos, because I do much better in a box. Performing is really, really hard for me, so I would just like to have more people and more money to do more sexy projects.

Sexy projects!

Yes, I just want to have something to do all the time-- and it's easier to do when people think you're great.

Where do you see a record like this being played?

That's a good question. I was sure that I knew, but I've been wrong. For instance, I've been singing recently at private parties for young Wall Street, and not so young Wall Street, and I'm surprised that they like the music. I guess that's not really a demographic though is it?

A recently unemployed demographic, but...

[Laughs] And I started singing at places in my hometown like the American Legion, and the friends I have here-- biker guy transplants from small towns. So maybe them too?

I thought it was really interesting that you use a lot of very feminine cultural signifiers with references to Daddy figures and pinup styles. At the same time, it feels modern because the narrator of the songs is very clearly the one in control. Do I understand it correctly?

I think you do. I guess my songs started being songs that I liked when I stopped being nervous about the content. I do like singing about “Daddy” and “baby”-- “Daddy” being the man and me being the “girl.” I didn't know that that had been such a prevalent theme in the Fifties, but now that I’ve listened to more music from that era, I see that it is. And I’m very relieved, because I don't want it to seem like I have a complex! But it's something I can't get over. I want to have a life where there's just one man in it, and I haven't found that.

But then in the song “Gramma Blue Ribbon Sparkler,” it seems your grandma is telling you that there will be one guy, and you respond that you want to be “the whole world's girl.”

That's funny. I mean, that was the last song we recorded and I already had the choruses, and I got to write the verses while I was living in a trailer in New Jersey. The best part of it was the light rail that ran from the Park to Hoboken. I wrote the verses on that, back and forth, because that’s the best view of the city. I think that was one of my happiest times, and I think that makes for happiness in the verses. And I remember telling my grandma, “I wish I could meet someone.” And she said, “When I was young, we didn't have the chance or the choice to try and see a lot of people-- you had to meet a man and that was kind of it-- but don't be afraid to meet everybody.” And I thought, you're the first person in my family who's ever made me feel like it’s okay to want to try and find the right thing.

Were you living in a trailer when you were making the record?

Yes. And I know how that sounds. But the fact is that I always thought it was a dream. It was the first place that was mine. And the people-- it's a real community. People decorate their homes.

Speaking of embellishment, it seems like style is very important to you and you have a very cohesive package in music and your look.

Well, wanting to have a defined life and a defined world to live in has been a lifelong ambition and desire for me, but it has changed a lot. Which is fine.

Now, it's very retro-inspired but modern, similar to the music.

A lot of the songs on this record came about because I didn't have a lot of exposure to all things cool, but now that I do, I just realize that I fit in perfectly. So I plan on just gratefully incorporating more of it.

Sounds very organic.

Yes, though now that I have been exposed to more, it's getting harder. I don't want it to feel like I'm copying anyone.

Did you ever read Tiger Beat magazine?

Tiger Beat? Like Jonathan Taylor Thomas?

Exactly! They always do quizzes about things people like, so I thought it would be fun to give you a little Tiger Beat style test!

Cool! That's a big deal.

Three things you always have with you.

Three things I always have with me… [rummages around in her bag and pulls out items.] A sparkle notebook. Lip liner. Cayenne pepper.

Cayenne pepper! Why?

When I get nervous, I put Cayenne pepper on my lips. It calms me down.

Best pickup line ever used.

It was something like, “If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?” I didn't get it at first and I was like, well no, but that's very nice.

Most embarrassing song on my iPod or generic MP3 player.

I would say a self-help audio-book.

Favorite food.

Coffee. And pie.

If you could kiss any celebrity, who would it be?

Oh that's good. Antony. From Antony and the Johnsons.

Describe yourself in three words.

Confused. Floral. And ah, odd?

I was expecting Hawaiian glam metal.

Oh, that too!

Originally published on indexmagazine.com.

[the1975attheirverybest]

It is in the Hawaii airport.. but like isn’t Meredith the one that’s 23?24? Girrrlllll. Like I love Matty, but if that whole thing was true where he ghosted her for Taylor. Like… sometimes a man is just a man and you gotta let him go 😭😭

But some people are just saying it’s a fan, which wouldn’t surprise me because he talked to fans like we’re his best friends

I don’t know to be honest. I just don’t know that I would look THAT chill and relaxed or even lean to grab a jacket or whatever if he were in front of me. But I’m just a dork maybe this person is a way cooler human than me hahaha.

Yeah it doesn’t matter who that is or whatever. All that matters is people not believing everything they see online.

[bullet-prooflove]

Wall Art - Daniel LaRusso x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @vsplanet @Jullyyy @art2emily

Summer School Series:

Part One: Summer School - Daniel's excited to meet Anthony's new art teacher.

Part Two: Dirt - Daniel learns more about you and your business.

Part Three: The Weight of Water - Daniel and you enjoy a moment by the sea.

Part Four: White Roses - Daniel finds out you might not be as single as he thought.

When Amanda commissions you to work on a wall sculpture for the car showroom Daniel is filled with trepidation. It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve seen one other, not since Anthony’s art show. He’d told you he’s too caught up in work to go surfing but it’s a lie, the truth is he feels foolish. You see Daniel, he’s fallen in love with you, but you, you’re in love with another man, one he didn’t even know existed until that night.

When you turn up at the showroom to take measurements, something in his chest just aches. He still feels that thrum of connection when he greets you, your smile, it still lights up his entire world. He thought the distance would help but only makes him realise just how much he’s missed you.

He’s standing at the reception desk, studying the month’s reports when his cousin Louie appears alongside of him. You’re halfway up a ladder calling out measurements to Anthony, who has taken it upon himself to assist you by recording the data onto his tablet.

“Wow.” Louie says as he comes to stand alongside him, sipping from his mug of coffee. “I think I might have to take a shot at that.”

They both know he’s not talking about the cleaning the windows.

“Cool it.” Daniel says wearily as Amanda lingers at the opposite side of the desk surveying the designs you’ve drawn up for the sculpture. “She has a boyfriend.”

“Hm, no she doesn’t.” Amanda remarks as her fingertips trace over the sketch of a bonsai tree.

“We saw him at the art show.” Daniel reminds her as he flips the page he’s reading. “He brought her white roses.”

“That’s not her boyfriend, that’s her brother.” Amanda informs him, finally looking up from the drawings. “She told me this morning, he’s been coming to her shows since their parents died, he brings the roses of a way of reminding her how proud they are of her.”

Daniel’s gaze strays back to you. He remembers that day on the waves when you told him about the car accident that claimed your parents lives. You were both taking a breather, sitting on surfboards, watching the beach when he asked you what got you into surfing.

“My father.” You had said with a sad smile. “He’s from Hawaii, he was a champion over there before he blew his knee out. He taught me how to swim, how to surf, how to take a minute amongst all the chaos.”

“He sounds like a very special man.” Daniel had said, reaching across the water and taking your hand.

“He was.” You had said, squeezing it tightly. “I miss him a lot.”

That was the day that things began to change between the two of you, that he’d realised that his feelings went far beyond a simple attraction and at the time he thought maybe yours did too.

It’s the clatter of the ladder that brings Daniel back to the present. He glances up to see Louie holding onto it in a rare gesture of chivalry as you climb down carefully. Already he’s talking at you, his mouth running a mile a minute. You frown as you get your feet back on the ground, trying to comprehend what he’s saying because Louie, he talks like he’s still in New Jersey, it can take hours to get to the point.

“You should go rescue her.” Amanda remarks as she watches the exchange unfold. “You know what Louie’s like when he gets going.”

Daniel’s about to set down his paperwork and assist when Louie comes trapsing back towards the reception desk.

“So the good news is she doesn’t have  a boyfriend.” Louie explains as he straightens his suit jacket. “The bad news is she has the hots for some guy she goes surfing with, although he’s not been around much recently so I might have an in there after all.”

Amanda shakes her head indicating he doesn’t have a chance in hell but Daniel, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, a smile crossing his features because that guy you’re talking about, the one you go surfing with, that’s him.

Love Daniel? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[kingsuckjin]

Golden- JJK

💛 Pairing: (almost entirely)Jungkook x reader, (basically none)Seokjin x reader

💛 Rating: 18+

💛 Genre: friends to lovers but like fluffy but also like very sad.

💛 Summary: After see your boyfriend Jin cheating on you at a bar and realizing your shared friends have been working together to hide it from you, you storm off into the parking lot to cry. Jungkook sees you out there and tells you the truth about everything, or what he wants you to believe is the truth.

💛 Words: almost 16k

💛 Warnings: CHEATING!!! “only one-bed” cliché but I love it, drinking, oral sex(m&f), protected sex and unprotected sex, dirty talk, overestimation, vaginal fingering, love kink?, too much smut, uhhh Jungkook is a bit of a stalker.

💛 Note: listen, I just wanted an excuse to write a gratuitous amount of Jungkook fluff and smut and I also love hurting. I thought I should throw in, these two characters are not actually in love, there are reasons it moves so fast, but it's not love.

❤ also a very big thank you to @btsaudge​ who beta read this whole thing for me, she’s not only a god tier beta reader but a god tier writer too ❤

“Where are you?” Jin was supposed to be home an hour ago. He had been doing this off and on for the past few months. You’d be lying if you hadn't wondered if things were beginning to fall apart later. You knew Jin would never do anything he wasn’t supposed to, especially not with the other guys there. You knew he was probably just having fun and part of you felt awful for wanting to keep tabs on him, you didn’t want to ruin his time by pestering him the whole time.

You paced as you waited for a reply but none came.

“Is Jin okay?” You sent to Namjoon now and he replied pretty quickly.

“Yeah, I’ve got an eye on him. We’re just over here at Gold’s bar telling old stories.” 

“Thank you.” You replied. You knew Jin could be a handful after having too many drinks but entrusted them with him.

You tried to sit back down and open your laptop up only to just blankly gaze at the screen. You were bored. Writer's block had hit you hard and you just didn’t feel like writing right now. You missed Jin tonight. You thought about the trip you had saved up for with the money from your last book. Sleepless hours were poured into making that book special all because you and Jin had shared a dream of vacationing in Hawaii together. All of your money went to it, every cent besides the shared rent, you wanted to surprise him and you just couldn’t find the right time to do it. He was a lawyer, not the best yet, so he had many sleepless hours too. You both deserved this trip.

You wondered for a moment if you dressed up and showed up if it would make him happy, especially if you finally told him about the trip tonight. You figured if you waited until he got home he would just pass right out and you wouldn’t get the chance. Again, you didn’t want to bother him with his friends, but then again he had spent many nights with them drinking and you were sure there were more to come, one night of you showing up couldn’t hurt.

You closed your laptop and went to your closet to find the black dress he loved so much on you, you only got it out for special occasions, and one of these days you planned on wearing it when he proposed. You knew him proposing was coming, he had been talking about it here and there lately “After we’re married…” or “when I make you my wife…” this was how life was supposed to go and you thought you couldn’t have picked a more relaxed person to share life with and you did your best to match his laid back attitude.

You got an Uber to Gold’s bar, it wasn’t a long ride, just long enough to make you further worry about ruining his time tonight. 

The first person you saw was Taehyung sitting at the bar with a pretty lady, obviously flirting like the ladies man he was. 

You tapped him on the shoulder and when he turned he seemed surprised to see you for a moment.

“Where’s Jin?” You asked over the music that was playing slightly too loud and it just wasn’t your taste in music anyway.

“I saw him over there.” He pointed to a corner of the building, and you saw him alright. You saw past the people and even passed the girl pressed into him, both leaned on the wall. 

“What are you doing here?” Came another voice.

You looked away from the scene and at Yoongi. Your eyes felt wide and your mouth fluttered open and closed. You didn’t know what to say or to think, or what was happening. Were you tired? Were you seeing things? Had your sweet and kind boyfriend just been making out with another woman with all of his and your friends here to witness it? You were confused? Did they all know something you didn’t?

You turned back around, afraid you would see the scene again, but you didn’t. There was no one against the wall. The place was dim, maybe you had just thought it was Jin.

“Want a drink?” Yoongi offered.

All you could do was just nod. 

Your eyes kept scanning the faces of people to find Jin, you were so lost and set on finding him that you were surprised to see the shot in front of your face Yoongi had gotten for you. You took it, you had no idea what it was even as it burned your throat.

“Looking for Jin huh?” Yoongi asked and sat down at one of the stools at the bar before patting the seat next to him.

“Well he’ll find us, I think he’s around here with Namjoon somewhere, might’ve gone to throw up.” 

“Yeah.” You replied but still felt nervous. Another shot was brought to both you and Yoongi.

“Was-was he pretty drunk when you saw him last?” You asked.

“He always gets pretty plastered, you know that.” 

“Sweetie!!!!” It was his voice.

You turned in the stool to see a smiling Jin coming in your direction, arms stretched wide. “What are you doing here?” He seemed happy and pretty drunk and he leaned over, wrapped his arms around you, and placed his cheek on your head. 

You felt relieved he wasn’t upset you were there.

“I’ve missed you all night.” He kissed the top of your head.

“God, you’re loud when you’re drunk,” Yoongi muttered to him.

When he released your smile that had grown from his embrace and hug faltered.

There was red lipstick on his neck.

“Jin what happened?” You asked, your hands had become sweaty as the scene you had witnessed earlier flashed through your mind.

“What do you mean?” He still wore a big smile.

“Jin, you have lipstick-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence. You turned to Yoongi just to make sure you weren’t going crazy and he had turned back away to face the bar.

You could feel your pulse thud hard as your brain further tried to rationalize it but to no avail. He must’ve caught on because he wiped at the place on his neck where your gaze was fixed. Your eyes flickered back to his nervous-looking brown eyes that were always so full of joy and laughter, the ones that always felt like home to you. Everything about this situation felt so wrong like a nightmare, you felt sick. This couldn’t be your Jin, it wasn’t your Jin, it was some strange cold stranger pretending to be him, but the more you looked at him the more you realized you were wrong. You felt tears well in your eyes and knew your strong front was beginning to dissolve and break apart like paper in water. 

That was it.

You took off for the door, you looked back and saw Jin trying to stumble after you, but Taehyung had stopped him.

You were left in tears in the parking lot, you felt your phone go off in your hand but your brain was in too much of an anger and hurt haze to care. You were looking for a place to break down, anywhere, but you sure as hell weren’t planning on going back in there. Your whole relationship with Jin was flashing through your mind and it felt like your heart had been burned, burned with the image of him and someone else the way her lipstick has been burned onto his neck.

You began to sob as you walked around parked cars. You were caring less and less who saw you break down. You felt so alone and exposed especially when a man sitting on the hood of his car began to stare.

“Y/n?” The voice questioned. Through your tear-blurred vision, you could see the screen of his phone light up his shocked-looking face.

Jungkook.

“How’d you get here so fast? I just-“ he stood from his seat on his car hood.

“Seokjin cheated on me.” You sobbed in the ugliest crying voice you had ever heard come from yourself.

Your fists grabbed the material of his jacket and you hurried your face in its collar.

His hands went to the middle of your back and hugged you silently for a moment. It just felt so good to have someone comfort you when everyone else seemed not to care or ignore you altogether. Even if it was awkward Jungkook.

You recalled the time where he once showed up at your University and just wanted to hang out for seemingly no reason. The whole two hours he was with you, he stayed silent. You thought he had wanted to visit you because you were friends but it left you wondering if he was ju9st trying to kill time or something. You also remember Jin not being too happy about it when you told him, maybe Jin wasn't too understanding back then.

“He was kissing someone else and I-I-“ you trailed off into a series of gaspy hiccups.

“I know.” He sighed.

“What?” You took a step back but still didn’t release him.

“Your phone. Check your phone.” He instructed.

You unlocked it to see a lengthy text from him. It was hard to read it and stay focused, you were shivering out of school or the chill in the air from this dress. You skimmed it but you shook worse the more you stood there. Attached were two pictures of Jin and the woman kissing in the same way and position that you had seen them.

You looked up at Jungkook with tears streaming down your cheeks, your lip quivered, your body shivered and he looked down at you with sorrow knitted into his furrowed brows.

“I’m sorry. They had always told me not to say anything, that it wasn’t my business, that I’d make you both unhappy if I-“ 

Your teeth were still chattering as you looked up at him.

He took his coat off silently before draping it around your shoulders. You fed your arms through the armholes that were way too big on you.

“Come on, let’s get you… let’s get you warm.” He went around to the passenger’s side and opened his car door. You didn’t resist, at least you could break down somewhere private.

You held your head in your hands as you sobbed over the sound of the engine and heat warming the car. He sat there quietly, not saying anything at all, but you didn’t blame him for it, he had always been awkward with people, especially you, but at least he seemed to care more than anyone else tonight.

You cried until only your hiccups remained. Your head rested against the headrest as you looked out the windshield at the night sky, it was starless.

“You- you uh wouldn’t want to go home would you.” It was a statement, he knew you wouldn’t. “Is there- somewhere I can take you? You could come with me… if you want.” 

“I don’t know, I don’t know if I want to be anywhere, but I can’t go home.” You stated knowing you weren’t making complete sense.

“We don’t have to go to my house just yet, we can do anything you want… but I do understand if you want to be somewhere where you can just be sad.”

“I don’t want to be sad.” You sniffled once more and wiped at your face “I don’t want to be anywhere sad. I wanted to have fun…”

“I know somewhere we can have fun.” 

Before you could answer he was pulling out of the parking lot.

It was quiet for a while as you just looked out the window.

“I know what it’s like you know.”

You turned to look at his face as he drove, lights every so often passing over his face.

“You’ve been cheated on too.” It wasn’t a question so much as a sad statement that came from your mouth. 

“That’s what made me want you to know so badly. It tore my heart out and sometimes I wish …I never would’ve found out, it hurt. I know it hurts.”

“I’m so sorry Jungkook.” You whispered. Sometimes he was weird, but you knew he had always had a good heart. 

“Sometimes things like that just happen, it doesn’t make it hurt less, but it does help to know you’re not alone… that and getting shit-faced.” He joked making you let out an amused puff of breath as you felt yourself smile just a little.

“Are we going somewhere with alcohol?” You asked.

“Of course. It’s on the house tonight.”

“You’re a good one Jungkook.” You replied.

You looked up at the big neon bowling ball and pins at the top of the building as you sat in the parked car.

“Bowling?” You asked and looked down at your dress. He was such a weird person.

“Just trust me.” 

So you did trust him, after all, it was better than being at home alone or worse, at home with Jin.

When you walked into the bowling alley it was dark, but there were laser lights and strobes and glowing lights and music played loudly but not as near as deafening as it did at the bar. It seemed like you were the only two here, besides one older guy playing alone at the very end lane.

You took a seat at a table at the opposite end and simply just waited, but the more you were alone with your thoughts the more what happened played through your mind. 

How long had Jin been cheating on you? Had he knowingly been cheating on you while talking about you being his wife someday?

You felt tears sting your eyes again, it was harder to hold them back this time.

Jungkook came back with an entire pitcher of beer and a plastic cup he sat on the table before he looked at you.

You tried to shield your crying eyes. You felt stupid crying at a bowling alley you weren’t even bowling at.

You heard the sounds of him pouring beer into the cup and you heard the cup scoot across the table.

You put your hand down, picked up the cup, and downed it.

“I know it’s hard not to think about, and I know it hurts. You shouldn’t be so embarrassed about crying.” Somehow he was able to read you “we’re pretty much the only ones here.” 

“I know, it just feels so strange crying in such an open place. I’m glad I’m here though.” 

He looked to be thinking about your words for a moment before ducking down in the seat and disappearing under the table.

“Come here,” he asked from under the table as you poured more beer in the plastic cup.

You followed him down under the table miraculously without spilling your drink.

He gave you the biggest, sweetest toothy smile and you couldn’t help but return it. You felt like a child playing hide and seek. 

He began to sing along to September by Earth Wind and Fire that played throughout the bowling alley, even physically reenacting the words just to make you laugh. Behind him, past the table were the prettiest lights. You felt so comfortable, warm, and safe in his yellow jacket.

“Are you okay?” He asked with slight concern.

“Yeah.” You snapped out of it and took another drink of your drink before offering him some.

“No, I have to drive. I got it for you, it’s all yours.” He declined.

“Thank you, for all of this.” You told him “it has made me feel better, I owe you so much.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He shrugged and you couldn’t help but notice just how sturdy his shoulders looked, and his thick tattooed upper arms.

His eyes were just as big and sparkling as when you had met him in high school. You tried to think back on the exact point you met him but you couldn’t remember.

“Jungkook, when did we meet, do you remember?” You asked him curiously.

“Mhm. I remember.” He gave you a nod. “We were all at Seokjin’s and we were setting up monopoly but had to wait because he was waiting on someone else. When you walked in the door I…”

“You just stared at me the whole time, I felt so unwelcome.” You laughed as you remembered.

You looked over at him to see him looking down and playing with one of the chunky rings on his fingers with a shy smile, his shaggy dark waves threatening to obstruct your view of his sheepishness. He was no longer that quiet and shy bowl-cut boy, well, in a sense was, but not to you anymore. He had tattoos all over him and long hair, his ears had a few rings in each. You wondered how someone so sweet could look like that. He was a paradox all on his own and you simply just never understood it, maybe that’s why you had felt like he was a little weird.

“The funny thing was, I had never seen you at school before that, but I saw you everywhere after.”

“I remember the same thing happening.” You replied as your mind went to seeing him in the halls and recalling the little waves he would give you. It made you smile recalling him then and looking at him now.

“You’ve always been so good, Kook.”

His reply was a shy scoffing noise before thanking you.

You noticed the cup you held was empty and looked down at it.

“Want me to get you more up top?” He pointed up and you nodded. He took your cup and told you to stay put as if you might be planning on crawling away. You felt safe here under this table with him, it was like your feelings couldn’t find you as long as you hid under here with him.

He bumped his head on the way back down making you burst out into laughter.

“You think that’s funny you sadist?” He joked as he smiled big and you continued to laugh at him “is that what it takes to make you laugh?” He teased as he handed you your refilled drink. “You know what would be hilarious? Me walking out here and getting hit by a car. You would be in tears with laughter.”

You still laughed but shook your head.

“You know what I think?” He lifted a brow at you “I think you’re drunk.” He accused you.

“No, definitely not. No way.” You denied but both of you knew it was a joke. Everything seemed to lag just a bit and you felt so silly. Your confidence was through the roof and every time you looked at him your heart raced. 

“I think you’re drunk.” You accused him back.

“Me? How? I haven’t drank anything all night.” His warm smile never ended and you swore he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“I think you’re so drunk that you think I’m drunk.” 

“No no.” You continued with your play fight. “If I was drunk could I do this?” You simply just took another drink of beer.

“Yes?” He chuckled. His laugh alone was enough to make your stomach feel like it was jumping into your throat.

You don’t know what got into you, you don’t know why you did it, but you reached forward and placed your hand on his knee.

There was silence for a moment as he looked down at it. He picked it up and he didn’t quite hold it but took it in a weird handshake way and let your conjoined hands be somewhere in the space between you.

He looked at you and smiled.

“I’m cutting you off. No more drinks for you.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking, or he was hinting for you to stop, your drunk brain had no idea. Instead of trying to figure out if he was rejecting you, you turned his hand over in yours and looked at his hand tattoos and rings, running your hand over each one. You had once heard his tattoos were for his family, but you didn’t know. You let go of his hand and held his arm as you examined those too, some had words you’re drunk brain couldn’t comprehend the meaning of.

“What’s after this?” He asked as he let you look over his skin.

You thought about it.

“I don’t want to go home.” You knew that much. “And I have no friends except…” actually you didn’t have friends anymore.

“My house it is then.” 

“I don’t have to if- I wouldn’t want to…”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. I just want to know you’re safe and not in pain… unless you’d feel too uncomfortable.”

“I trust you.” You locked eyes with him. It was the truth, Jungkook had never hurt anyone ever that you can recall. He hadn’t even been mad at any of the others, even when he should’ve been sometimes. If you were bothering him he never would’ve said it, and knowing that made you feel worse, it made you feel like you were.

“I don’t think you’ve ever been to my house, but I have to warn you, it isn’t the best, I’m just a currently jobless IT guy. Kinda lost my job last week.”

“I’m so sorry Kook. I don’t mind, at least it’s not with Jin.” You finished off what was in your cup, he hadn’t been too serious about cutting you off the drinks.

“I’ll be back.” He let you know before crawling out from under the table.

You went to get out from under the table and the moment you stood all the drinks hit you, you held onto the table for stability as you sat back down at your seat. The pitcher of beer was gone so you had either finished it or he had taken it. Your brain was no longer thinking about Jin thankfully, but unfortunately, it was stuck on Jungkook and the way he looked at you and how his hand had felt in yours. Your breath felt shaky about going home with him, not because you were unsure, but because to you that had to mean something. You tried to separate yourself from your drunk mind and realized you didn’t want to push his boundaries when he was being so kind. You were drunk and he wasn’t and you knew he had morals that you just didn’t right now. You shouldn’t hit on him again, but then again he let you hold his hand, didn’t he? Did he? Would you even call that hand-holding? He hadn’t pulled away but that didn’t mean he wasn’t trying to be nice and that didn’t mean he was uncomfortable. You felt bad about doing it, but the drunk and hurt part of you wanted something, some kind of closeness with anyone so the hurt could be replaced just for now. It was all wrong of you.

Your brain spun as you looked off into nothing at all of the dancing colorful lights of the bowling alley. Maybe Jungkook wanted to take advantage of you, maybe he saw this as an opportunity, and as wrong as that sounded you would’ve been okay with that. Your mind stuck to that idea like a fly stuck in honey.

“Ready?” He asked as he held out his hand for you to help you out of the seat.

You stumbled a bit as you took your first few steps but he grabbed you around the waist.

“Careful.” He said so gently and so patiently but it did nothing to ease your turbulent thoughts and feelings. As he held your body like this, it made you want to hold him back, but you fought the urge. He was just helping you get to the car so you didn’t fall flat on your ass.

He buckled you in murmuring a quiet apology for seemingly no reason.

His car smelled of him. It was funny how you never noticed before he had his own scent, it was a bit like cinnamon or some kind of spice and fresh laundry. It hung all around you, on his coat, the fabric of his car, and even on your hands from touching his. 

You looked at him as he drove, the whole time, and if he noticed he hadn’t said a word about it. You felt fully wrapped in him and yet you ached for more, more than just this casual friendliness.

“Do you promise to tell me if I bother you… in any way at all.” Your mouth blurted out.

“I promise.” You watched him smile at your odd request. “You never have bothered me yet.”

The reassurance was what you needed for your mind to feel content for now.

The silence was comforting after all the music and crying and drinking and all the things you had seen tonight. You almost fell asleep, almost.

The keys jingling and a car door closing woke you up. You looked around to see apartment buildings just as Jungkook opened your side car door. You unbuckled yourself.

“Do you need me to carry-“ 

You got to your feet on your own but grabbed for his arm.

“Wait.” He announced before getting to his knees in the parking lot.

He took your leg in his hand and took off one of your heels before taking the other off. He then put an arm under your leg and one on your back before you were horizontal in his arms.

“There are steps up here. I didn’t want you falling in those shoes.” He commented as he carried you and your shoes. You wrapped your arms around his neck so he might have an easier time.

“Would you laugh if I fell down the stairs?” 

“Only for a second.” He teased

“You sadist.” You snorted.

The way his body and muscles felt against you as he packed you up the stairs to his apartment door made you more lightheaded than all the alcohol you had tonight.

He put you down to unlock his door but his hands went back into you to help you walk through it.

He flipped on the lights to reveal his apartment.

His living room area consisted of a mattress on the floor with dark blue sheets and a blanket, it faced a big TV on a stand with game systems and even a computer tower.

The headboard of his bed was the bar that separated the tiny kitchen from the living area.

To the far side were two doors, you assumed one was a bathroom and another door that looked like it slid open could be a closet.

“Quaint, right?” He asked.

“It’s very you.” You said as you breathed the scent of him hanging all around you.

“I was thinking you could have the bed and I could sleep on the floor.” He commented.

“Haven’t you been sleeping on the floor anyway?” You joked. “It’s a big bed, but it also could be a couch. So I could have the couch and you could have the bed. I don’t see any other way around this.”

“You’re okay with us both sharing…?” He asked as if you hadn’t already been thinking about it before you found out the only place to sit or lay in here was his bed.

“Do you mind?” You asked.

“Uh uh.” He shook his head and took off across the room. You wobbled on over to his bed and had a seat. You watched as he slid the closet door open.

He threw a pair of pajama pants and a white t-shirt behind him onto the bed before pulling out more clothes he kept in his arms.

“The bathroom is-“ 

You cut him off by pointing to the only other room in the apartment. You picked up the clothes and he asked if you needed help getting in there but you shook your head.

You had to hold onto the sink as you dressed in the foreign fabric of his clothing, but even though it felt odd, you still felt comfortable. You did your best to drunkenly wash your face before coming back out. The room was dim, and the Netflix home page was the only light. He was in the tiny open kitchen half of the room in grey sweatpants and a black shirt setting a glass of water onto the island.

“Drink.” He pointed and you did as he asked but could only stomach half the glass. You were sure to thank him for his kind gift of water before you went over to his bed on the floor and got in.

“Here.” He placed a remote on your torso before crawling into the bed himself.

But you didn’t want to watch anything at all. Being next to him was enough entertainment for you.

You looked over at him, hands comfortably resting behind his head, waiting for you to pick something. 

You passed the remote back to him by placing it on his stomach and found his open side too inviting for you not to want with all of your heart.

You rolled onto your side and scooted closer and closer until you put your head on the place between his armpit and shoulder. He didn’t stop you from laying on his chest. He turned the tv off making the room go dark before he let his arm fall around you and cradle you.

You laid in silence a moment.

“Tomorrow is going to be better.” He whispered but you were already drifting from the closeness and peace you felt for now. You took a deep breath in and held his scent in your nose for a moment so it would permanently brand into your brain.

“You smell so good.” You muttered already half asleep.

You heard yet another amused scoff come from him and felt the little laugh on his chest under your head.

“Go to bed.” He joked.

And you did, as you listened to his rhythmic heartbeat, beat after steady beat, unfailing and never letting you down. There was always another right after the last.

The quiet click of a door woke you. You could see sunlight flooding through your closed eyelids, you could feel the warmth in the bed and on your skin. As you laid there you could hear other little sounds, straining to be quiet but failing.

Your eyes opened and you were disoriented for a moment.

You sat up but realized the noises were coming from behind.

“Jungkook?” You sleepily let out as you winced at the bright light coming through the sheer curtains from behind the tv.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up.” You heard his apologetic voice. 

“No, it was just time to get up.” You grunted as you gave a stretch hard enough your bones cracked.

“Want some cereal?” 

You both casually sat in the bed eating. He had given you a massive bowl of cereal you felt obligated to finish. He was fully dressed while you sat there still in his pajamas.

“You want to stay again today?” He asked bluntly as his eyes focused on whatever anime he had turned on.

“I couldn’t Jungkook, you’ve been so kind and I just-“

“I don’t mind.” He shrugged and crunched up another bite.

“Why?” You decided to ask but he shrugged again.

“Having someone here is kind of fun. It’s like a sleepover I guess.” 

He was so childish in the oddest ways, it was kind of charming. You began to remember all of your thoughts from last night and thanked yourself for not trying too hard to make him uncomfortable. He pushed back his hair with his hands before taking another bite of the colorful cereal. He had the heart and empathy of an angel, even with the tattoos on his hands that he ate his kids’ cereal with.

“Then what are we doing today Kook?” You asked.

“You need clothes. Also, do you know how to skateboard?”

You felt those two things in the same breath were a bit odd but that was just him.

Before long, you found yourself in a cheap store grabbing whatever would fit you and you could wear in public and not feel too bad about it.

“Why’d you ask if I could skateboard?” You asked as he pulled out of the store parking lot. You had already gotten dressed in the bathroom and were ready for whatever weird thing he wanted to do.

“Do you?” 

“No.” You shook your head.

“Wanna learn?”

“Sure.” 

“I’m going to teach you how Yoongi taught me when I was sixteen.”

“How did he teach you?” 

“He taught me not to be scared.” Was his only reply, and you accepted it. You liked the element of surprise he added to everyday life, you liked how he didn’t take a lot too seriously. You admired that. Your life with Jin had always been work amongst jokes now and then but it hadn’t felt fun, even when you were both young. You felt like you could probably learn a lot from Jungkook.

“Let’s get some food first. It’s almost dinner time, are you hungry? You kept a while and all you’ve eaten today was cereal.” 

You paid for lunch. You got some fries you picked at between watching the wind blow through his hair as you ate outside at a little burger place. He stuffed his mouth full with every bite. A mess of tomatoes and condiments would drop from the burger and onto the wrapper in his lap.

“What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?” You asked him.

“Hmmm.” He thought with a mouthful. “Maybe live in a better house.” 

“That’s it?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the simplicity of what he desired.

“Yeah.” He smiled and wiped his mouth. “You?” 

“I wanted to live or at least visit somewhere warm. I was supposed to go on a trip to Hawaii with Jin, it was a surprise… I wanted to live there one day but he has to work here.” you felt yourself falling back into the heartbreak.

“You don’t need him to go to Hawaii. You could move there now if you wanted and no one could hold you back.” 

“Yeah.” You agreed but it sounded sad.

“You afraid of being alone?” He asked a question that hit you too hard. 

All of your adult life and even your teenage years all you knew was Seokjin, you had always had someone there, your parents or Jin, you had never really had to be alone or think of a future with only yourself until now.

“No.” You lied. There was a strange quiet.

“I’m sorry if that-“

“You should come with me to Hawaii.” You blurted out fully interrupting him.

“Do you want that?” He questioned as if you hadn’t thought it through, and you hadn’t but that didn’t mean you didn’t mean it.

“Yes. Do you?” You were so afraid of him saying no and you didn’t quite know why.

“It’s not like I don’t have anything I can just put on hold for… however long. It’ll be fun. I’d like that.” 

The conversation felt like something more to you somehow, like some secret agreement was just made.

“We should do this before it gets dark.” He commented “ready?” 

Your fries were cold and you had been just waiting on him to finish eating.

You took at the top of the street on a hill with him after walking a block from where he had parked and dragged a skateboard out of the backseat.

“This is where Yoongi taught me to skateboard, he pushed me down here.” He pointed to the steep road that luckily wasn’t too busy.

“And you’re going to push me down it? I’d kill you.” You crossed your arms disapprovingly.

“No, see, you’re going to push yourself down it. If you sit on the skateboard it will be easier and you probably won’t fall, it will be fun.”

“Your idea of fun gets crazier and crazier.” You pointed out.

“Sit, I’ll stay behind you.” 

“No, because it’s going to pick up speed faster than you can run as I’m going down the hill.” Your brain had already torn the scenario apart and your chances of getting hurt were probably around one hundred percent. Even though you knew that you sat down on the skateboard.

“Okay, now just look down, get a feel for it, take it in.” He instructed as you looked down at the steeply sloping road below.

“Jungkook this is dangerous.” You commented.

He stood behind you and wrapped his arms around you in kind of a hug.

“You’re okay, nothing bad is going to happen to you, alright? I’m right here.” He whispered and you nodded. “Close your eyes, keep them closed.” 

You did as he asked you could feel him wheeling you closer and closer. Put your feet down to stop you from going just yet. I’m going to let go, you’re going to count to ten and without opening your eyes, you’re going to push yourself. Stay as still as you can even if you’re scared. Only open them when I have you.”

Your breath shook, but you gave him confirmation.

“Count.” He said as he released you.

You slowly counted, the nerves in your stomach growing the higher each number got. You gripped the bottom of the board with both hands and when you got to ten you used your legs to push off before tucking them back onto the board.

You let out a scream as you felt the speed at which you were falling, you could feel tears in your squeezed closed eyes.

He caught you by the arm. It was all over before it had even started.

You were breathing heavily and clung to his jacket.

“You’re safe, you’re okay.” He assured you and helped you to your feet.

You were at the bottom of the hill and your heart was racing with your eyes still watering. 

“Are you crying?” He grinned.

“JUNGKOOK I COULD’VE DIED!” You slapped at his arm but he dodged it only making him laugh more at your annoyance.

“Look! You did that by yourself!” He commented with proudness.

“I could’ve died.” You repeated.

“But you didn’t.” He still wore a grin.

The sunset filtering through his dark hair, his laughter, and him trying to escape you chasing him by walking backward felt oddly beautiful. His skin looked a shade of golden like this.

You pulled on his jacket to pull him in, you thought about kissing him, everything in you told you to preserve this moment. Would he let you? Would he let you at least hold his hand again?  but instead, you wrapped your arms around him.

“Today is better, thank you.” You squeezed him. Your arms stayed around him for as long as his stay on your back. It was a while that you both just stood there hugging in the street like dumbasses.

“What do you want to do now?” He asked as he released you “you’ve put up with me all day so it’s your turn to pick.”

“Honestly,” you both began the trek back to his car. “I just want another drink.”

“Understandable. Let’s stay home and drink tonight, it will be easier.” He suggested.

“I would rather.” You agreed you interlocked your arm in his as you walked, and again he let you. You wondered for a moment why he was letting you be this close to him and touch him so much, but he never initiated it. You decided thinking about any of that was not for the best and you let it go.

You stopped at a liquor store and got more vodka and snacks than either of you would ever need for one night.

Before you started drinking you both took a turn having a shower and he started some laundry. Everything was so casual with the both of you, eating chips on the bed while he beat your ass at a fighting game three times in a row, he did let you win three times after that to make up for it. The loser had to take a shot and now you each had three.

“Last one. You’re going to win and I’m going to switch games.” You announced as you picked your character. 

“You don’t know if I’m going to win.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You knew it was either he won or he let you win, and he let you win yet again.

“Don’t be such a hero.” You laughed as he had to gulp down the fourth drink of vodka. His nose wrinkled at the taste.

“Let’s just play something both of us have an equal shot at winning. Since you’re good at video games it can’t be that.” You decided. You thought about what you could do that didn’t require much skill if any. You scooted closer to him on the mattress on the floor so you could face him, knee to knee.

“Got it. Hold up five fingers.” You told him and did the same.

“I know this game.” He said holding up five tattooed fingers.

“Good, loser takes three shots.” You made up the rules and he nodded in agreement. You scooted in closer and he faced you. You were going into dangerous territory with this and you knew it, but let it go under the guise of: this is just for fun.

“Put a finger down if you’ve ever gotten black out drunk.” You said and he put a finger down and you didn’t.

“Put a finger down if you’ve thrown up in public.” He said and neither of you put a finger down.

“Put a finger down if you’ve ever… eaten something off of someone’s body.” You watched as his finger stayed up but you put yours down.

“Are you trying to lose?” He laughed

“We’re even.” You pointed out.

“Not for long. Put a finger down if you’ve ever had public sex.”

You put a finger down.

“Put a finger down if… you’ve ever… let someone win in a game.” You laughed as you brought up earlier and he put a finger down.

“Put a finger down if… you’re y/n.” He grinned.

“You know what? Just give me the damn three shots, I forfeit.” You sighed knowing that it was time to play dirty in every sense of the word.

“I’ll take three with you.” He decided. Of course he would, he was the kindest man ever. You could’ve already guessed he would say that before he even did.

You took them together and only let yourself grimace after the last one.

“Again, I’ll start this time.” He announced, screwing the cap on the vodka. You could hear him slur his speech just a little.

You both held up five fingers once again.

“Put down a finger if you’ve ever had a pregnancy scare.”

Neither of you put down a finger, but the questions were beginning to get a bit more heavy. He seemed to have the same idea as you.

“You’ve ever had someone cum inside of you or came inside of someone without a condom.” You were stepping up your questions now but neither of you were putting fingers down.

“If anyone has ever gone down on you for more than thirty minutes.” He asked but again you both still had five fingers. “Wow, that really sucks for us.” He muttered.

“If you’ve ever had a thing for someone in your friends circle.” You announced. Slowly but surely you both put down a finger. Your drunk beau was ignoring the little voice in your head screaming at you to stop. Jungkook was your friend, a friend who might even have the same feelings as you did right now.

“If you’ve ever thought about kissing someone in your friend circle.” He asked and put a finger down and so did you. You felt like you were both edging towards the inevitable and dangerous with questions like this, but you couldn’t shut your mouth.

“If you’ve ever thought about fucking them.” Your own question made you swallow as you both put a third finger.

“If you’ve ever thought about what it would be like to be in a relationship with them.” He asked quietly. Your fourth fingers went down together.

There was only one left and it was your turn. You both knew now you were talking about each other, but it was hard to believe. You were scared it wasn’t you, maybe he was into guys too. You just had to ask, you had to.

Your eyes locked. You felt nervous. He looked nervous as he bit at his lip between those two front teeth you were becoming so fond of seeing when he smiled.

“Put a finger down if…” it was hard to speak, you had to swallow down the knot of nerves in your throat and take a deep breath before continuing “if the person we’re talking about is each other.”

His pointer finger curled down and so did yours.

 “For how long?” You asked.

“From the start.” He admitted. “But you’ve never felt that way.”

“I do now.” You leaned in. At least now you were sure how he felt, or at least you thought.

He stopped you by placing a hand on your arm.

“I don’t want it to be like this.” His voice was so quiet it was barely above a whisper.

You sat back and waited for him to explain.

“I don’t want it to be… I don’t want to be a rebound. I think friendship comes before feelings anyway and that’s why I did this. I don’t want to kiss you while we’re drunk, I don’t want you to regret anything.” 

“Oh.” You let out. 

“I can’t do this when you’re drunk and sad and trying to fill a void, that wouldn’t be okay of me to do. I want… I want more than that and you just got out of a relationship… or maybe you didn’t yet… but I can wait until it’s all over, I feel like that’s the right thing to do here.”

You sat there a moment as his drunk words registered in your brain. For just a second you wished you weren’t drunk so you could try to tell him how you were feeling but decided to give it your best shot anyway.

“I like you. I’m sorry I was so blinded by Jin all these years that I couldn’t see you liked me because if I hadn’t been maybe we both could’ve been better off. Maybe I could’ve had more days like this with you, hundreds more where we just do crazy things, where we could just sleep on a mattress on the floor and still feel happy and content with life. Jungkook if I would’ve known you felt this way and I would’ve known how life could be, at any point, then I’d probably be the one cheating. I want you. I want you and it’s not just because I’m afraid to be alone, you make me do things I never would’ve done. And your heart, your heart is made of pure gold. I want us both to just forget everything before now, everything we’ve been through, not because it hurts but because it just feels like it should’ve been us all along. And if you only knew how many times I’ve had to stop myself from kissing or touching you today when I was perfectly sober and perfectly happy…”

“I want that. I’ve wanted that.” He seemed like he was talking to himself more than you.

He was now the one leaning forward and your face got stuck in his pull.

Your lips met very gently and your eyes drifted closed so you could lose yourself in it.

His tongue wasn’t at all rough or demanding with yours, but it was needy.

You climbed into his lap and not a minute passed between that time and the time he was helping you fall backward, settling himself between your legs so effortlessly.

Your hands ran under his shirt slowly, creeping up until his shirt bunched prompting him to sit up and take it off.

You could feel him hard between your legs but there was so much fabric separating the both of you that it became frustrating to buck into him.

“I can’t fuck you.” He decided to your dismay. “But I just want to feel you.” 

You let him slide your shirt off so your bare chests were pressed together as mouths continued to move together in new ways every second, patternless unlike his heartbeat but exciting like the things he made you do.

He yanked the blankets up around you both and let himself grind into you slowly as you whimpered for more.

Your mouth went to his neck, sucking at his skin passionately and listening to the beautiful moans he made for you. You could’ve done this to him all night, just taste his skin and let his spit intermix with yours, but he decided to bite off even more.

His head sunk and he took a nipple in his mouth. The feeling went right to your throbbing and needy clit.

“Oh god fuck me.” You breathed “please just let me closer. I need more.” 

He pinched at your nipple softly between his teeth and you gripped his shoulder.

“I’m so wet, I don’t think one ever wanted anything mo-“

His mouth left your breast and yanked his pajama pants off of you and took off the ones he was wearing as you finished kicking off yours.

You were both down to your underwear now though you wished it was less.

While you weren’t going to force him to do anything he didn’t want to, it sure seemed like he wanted to do this.

You felt him reach into his underwear and adjust himself before rutting into you again with a groan.

Your hands freely moved across his skin, feeling goosebumps that had risen under your touch.

You knew that you were so wet at this point that it had to leak through the fabric of both yours and his underwear, you knew he felt it.

“Is there anything I’m allowed to do? Kook, you’re killing me.” You whined.

“I don’t have condoms.” He commented.

“I get a birth control shot but I understand if you don’t want to…” you trailed off.

“I don’t know what I want to do… I- but I think I have an idea. Let’s take the last of it off.” 

He seemed nervous as you both kicked off your remaining two pieces, and then you were bare for each other.

“You’re not a virgin right?” You asked from the way he was acting so nervously. 

“Oh. No, no. I- Uh I just feel like it’s wrong still... like I’m not supposed to. This can’t be happening.” He reached down between the both of you again.

“Nothing has to happen-“ 

“I’m so hard.” It was a whisper of a breathless whine that interrupted you. His knuckles brushed your folds and you realized he had his cock in his hand, pumping it slowly.

“Why the fuck are you so unbelievably hot?” Tumbled from your mind and fell from your mouth.

“You need to be seeing things from my view right now.” He looked over what parts of your body he could “dear god.” 

He finally released his cock and let it fall between your folds. He gave a thrust and felt the weight of his cock slide against your clit because of the wetness.

You didn’t expect him to shove his fingers into you, but that alone was enough to nearly make you cum from all the teasing he had put you through.

He pulled them out and held his sticky thoroughly coated fingers in the air.

“Oh my god.” He whispered quickly and shakily. 

You had never, ever been this wet in your life. You could hear the sound as he spread your juices and his pre-cum over his cock and brought it back to place it between your folds.

He came back down and every time he thrust how his slick cock rubbed your clit over and over.

Moans and whines escaped both of you but it just wasn’t enough for you to imagine him plowing into you, you needed to feel it.

“Oh god, I bet you would feel so fucking good inside of me. I’d cum for you so fast.”

You had earned a soft groan from him, he was losing it.

“I want to fuck you so badly. I want to cum all inside of you. Neither of us had ever done that before, can I?”

You felt him shift the head of his dick to your entrance.

“I will beg you, please do it.” you closed your eyes in a prayer that he actually would.

“Fuck.” he let out as he slipped into you, you took every last inch of him. 

He was already sweating and grunting before he had started thrusting, but after he started jackhammering into you, there was a new look and feel about him. His damp strands hung loosely, his nose crinkled as he hit his lip with the force he was putting into each thrust.

“I’m going to cum.” you announced not even a minute in.

He grabbed one of your legs, threw it over his shoulder, and was pushing hard. Your body bounced at the force, your head bumped the kitchen Island that was his headboard until he dragged your body animalistically lower on the bed.

“I wanna- I wanna hear you.” he panted. 

“Don’t stop- that- keep doing that,” you instructed. He was short on breath and a sweaty mess.

“Go on, I've got you. I've got you,” he assured you, keeping the pace of his hips the same.

Your orgasm crashed into you all at once like a semi-truck through a small building.

You felt like you had just gone down that hill again. Your heart was racing and you knew he was too.

You pulled him into your lips messily as your brain melted into a blissful spice and laundry scented puddle.

He mounded loudly against your lips as his body moved against yours.

“Coming.” He whispered his next few breaths were sharp, pumping into you a few more solid times, you could feel his cum spill into you as his sweaty forehead pressed into yours.

When his hips stilled, there was only the sound of rough breaths, he kept his eyes closed for a moment and swallowed hard.

“How-how was that?” He propped himself above you on shaky arms. In the dark you could see the beads of sweat that pulled on his face and neck, his chest rose and fell and still made no move to pull out of you.

“I-“ you tried to find even a single word for the experience you had just had. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

He let out a strong huff of a laugh and grinned down at you with the biggest and sweetest eyes that looked to search your face.

“That was something.” He agreed but looked like he had something on his mind. 

He gave you a soft kiss on your lips before he finally pulled out and laid beside you, only to have the embarrassing feeling of his cum leaking from you and down your butt crack.

You jumped up, only making matters worse, cupping your crotch as you took off to the bathroom faster than he could ask any sort of questions.

As you cleaned yourself up you couldn’t believe everything that had happened between you two. you didn’t for a second regret it, the opposite.

As you walked out of the bathroom he was standing on the floor by the bed with only his pajama pants on, holding a bag of chips. He turned to you and laughed.

“We just had sex with the Mortal Kombat music.”

You stood there naked and you couldn’t help but laugh back.

That tender time you had just had together had just been spent jarring fight music and you didn’t even realize. That’s what he did to you. When you were with him the entire world and all of your problems fell away.

You put back on your pajamas, still laughing to yourself as you heard the music still play.

“Now every time I hear it I’ll think of you.” 

“Please don’t associate us having sex with that” you laid back down and he got into the bed with you. 

He fed you a chip and you thought that was pretty cute so you took him by the shirt and pulled him into your lips.

He pulled away for a moment.

“Round two, fight!” 

You laughed so hard at the stupid Mortal Kombat joke that you snorted and he found that pretty amusing. A tickle fight broke out and of course, he got you pinned and of course, you couldn’t help but kiss him again.

A knock at the door interrupted you both making him stiffen and both of your heads turn in the direction of the door.

“What do I do?” You mouthed to him he climbed off of you and sat up.

“Who is it?” He called out.

“Jimin.” The answer came from the other side of the door.

You grimaced at each other and decided to jump up and go hide in his closet. You tucked yourself in between his few shirts and hanging pants and closed the door.

You could hear Jungkook walk to the door and open it. There were now two sets of footprints inside the apartment.

“You weren’t answering any texts and I got worried about you.” You heard Jimin's voice clearly.

“Been busy.” You think Jungkook muttered.

“Looks like it,” Jimin replied with obvious sarcasm. You wondered if it was all the snacks and alcohol on the floor, the video games left on, or the marks that decorated Jungkook’s neck that made him say that.

“You hear about what happened with Jin and y/n the other night at the bar?” Jimin asked and waited a moment “I guess he cheated on her, you were right this whole time about it.”

“It sucks she had to go through all of that. How’s she holding up?” Jungkook was playing dumb.

“I don't know, I haven't talked to her. It's Jin’s business, not mine.” 

That hurt you. You had always thought of you and Jimin as pretty close friends.

“Plus I heard she disappeared anyway. Jin is speculating she took off to Hawaii on her own. Namjoon told me he told the police everything this morning wanting to file a missing person report. He thought it was suspicious she just left all of her stuff, but the police said she hadn’t been gone long enough and they had an argument and probably just wanted to be away from him.”

“Do you think she’s okay?” Jungkook seemed genuinely concerned even though you were right in his closet.

“I don’t know. Yoongi was a little worried she got kidnapped at the bar after she stormed out. I don’t think anyone is looking for her though, I think she just wanted to get away. Also, you kind of disappeared that night at the bar too, didn’t you?” 

Oh shit. Was Jimin putting it all together? 

“I took someone to my place and she stayed a few nights. I don’t think I was there when all of this went down.” Jungkook’s alibi seemed solid, you hadn’t even seen him in the bar when you had gotten there.

“Well, I just wanted to stop by and check in on you.” 

“Thank you.” Jungkook’s reply sounded sincere.

“You should probably clean up a little, maybe get a real bed, it just looks kind of… sad.”

Jimin didn’t sound concerned, he sounded almost mean about it to you.

“Noted. Will do. Thanks for stopping by man.” Jungkook continued to be kind to him until he left.

You stepped out of the closet dumbfounded as Jungkook said nothing about the way Jimin had treated him or nearly accused him. He just got back into bed seemingly unphased. You followed after and just laid there for a moment thinking about times when they had all been mean to him at least once.

“Please don’t let them do that to you.” You asked.

“Hm? Oh. Yeah. That’s just what it’s like being the youngest. I’m used to them looking down on me.” 

“it doesn’t have to be that way.” 

“Why not?” He seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying because he rolled onto his side to face you.

You rolled onto yours to face him in the dark. Hair was in his face but he was looking at you with those big brown eyes.

“It can be you and me against the world if you wanted. If one of our skateboards went flying down a hill, we would be there to catch the other before they got hurt. Do you want to do that with me?” You couldn’t believe you had the guts to ask that but what you couldn’t believe even more was his reply.

“I want to do that with you. Let’s do that. I haven’t let you fall and get hurt yet, have I?” He grinned.

Little did he know that you already had fallen.

You brought your hand up to his face before scooting closer and placing your forehead against his

“Promise me you won’t let me fall.” You whispered.

“I promise.” His answer was instantaneous.

“Then I won’t let you either. Well just protect each other.” 

“Deal.” He replied before connecting your lips. 

As you kissed him you wondered if he felt the same about you as you did him already. He had to know that you were so scared, so terrified of being hurt again and that’s why you wanted to make this deal.

His hand slid down your body and back up causing your shirt to bunch. His warm hand made its way back down your skin again and just as it snaked into the band of his pajama pants you were wearing, a loud hum startled you both.

You were confused for a moment as the room grew slightly brighter.

Your phone was ringing on the wood floor.

You sat up, squinting your eyes as you picked up the phone and looked at the screen that was far too bright.

“Jin.” Your voice wasn’t at all cheerful.

“Are you going to answ-“ Jungkook’s sentence was cut off by the sound of you turning off your phone and putting it back down. 

“I can’t, I just… I don’t want to talk to him right now, I don’t want to feel that right now again… if ever. I saw what I saw and there’s no way he can convince me that I didn't see it or that you didn't too, we have photos. I'm not sure that I really ever want to talk to him again. I feel so… differently about him now and I don’t think there's any repairing that.”

He sat up, picked up his phone from his side, and turned it off too before you both laid back down.

“Good night kook.” You announced with Jin’s call not leaving you feeling right but not wanting to think about it right now.

“Night.” He replied as he pulled you against his body.

Although you tried to refuse your brain the opportunity of letting the thought of Jin right now entirely wreck your time with Jungkook, it was hard. You thought of all the restless nights when you stayed up working as an excuse to wait for Jin to get home from going out or working late. There were rarely nights like this where you could curl up against him, looking back on it there were no nights that you felt as cared about as you did now. A thought stuck to you, one you decided to think more on the next day. Did this all happen for a reason? For both of you? Would all of the suffering you’ve both been through in your relationships be worth it now?.

You felt something soft and warm on your head. A kiss.

“Morning.” you felt a delicate breath of his whisper on your face.

“Morning.” You muttered. Your eyes stayed closed as you reached out for him and pulled him into you. He let out a quiet laugh as he let you drag him onto you as if he were your teddy bear.

“I’ve been awake a while, I went to the store in my pajamas and I thought you’d be awake by the time I got back.”

“But I wasn’t so you woke me up instead?” 

You felt his hands run up your sides and lift your shirt until the hem and bunched fabric sat under your breasts.

“I missed you.” 

“You missed me?” you couldn't help but smile before it was quickly wiped away by him crawling back a little and kissing the skin above your belly button.

“Mmm.” he hummed an answer before kissing just a bit lower.

“Remember the thing that we both never had?” you looked down to see his big brown eyes look up at you through a mess of dark hair.

It took you a moment with your still sleep fogged brain to realize what he was talking about.

“Hey Siri, set a timer for thirty minutes,”

The robotic voice replied it’s confirmation on his phone, but he was already yanking down your pants and you were lifting your butt so he could get them off.

He gently pushed your legs apart and laid on his stomach between them, starting to run very agonizingly slow kisses up your thigh. With every small warm kiss that felt just too close or every warm breath you felt of his, a tingle of anticipation went through your body. 

“I just keep thinking,” he placed another kiss on your thigh so close you felt his cheek brush against where you needed his mouth the most before he teasingly moved into the other leg “about how I have you right here” another slow kiss “after wanting you for so, so long.” 

His words hit you hard and you knew they were making you wetter. You had never been dirty talked so sweetly before, hell, it wasn’t even dirty yet here you were soaking wet and more than ready for whatever he wanted to do to you just minutes after waking up.

“God only knows” his lips touched your slit now and it was almost too much to bear “how many times I've imagined this.” his tongue dipped into your folds and licked from bottom to top, you moaned a little too loudly and jerked slightly as his wet muscle touched your clit.

You were so ready but his lips went back to your thigh. You said nothing as he repeated this pattern once and then twice, you began to more than look forward to when his tongue would meet your clit again, after the third time you swore you could cum on the next one, he was driving you insane with his teasing pattern, you felt like he was never going to let you have what you wanted.

“Jungkook please!” you nearly yelled as he once again went back to your thigh to start over. He froze, looked up at you through all of that hair with raised eyebrows, and gave you a smile of amusement.

“If you don't stop and just get on with it already then you'll see what I do to you.” you threatened.

“Maybe I'd like to find out.” he retorted.

“Get on with it!” you wailed loudly as you gave him a half pleading glare.

“Make. Me.” he looked you dead in the eyes as he spoke. It was enough to send a feeling that felt like electricity trickling through you. You started to get up to take control but he pulled your hips flat back to the bed with a delighted smile.

“Seriously?” you laughed.

“What are you gonna do?” 

You were growing more sexually frustrated with him by the second.

“Just wait.” you threatened again.

He bent his head down and kissed the folds over your clit. You took the opportunity to place your hand on his head and not let him up.

You felt him give a little laugh before he finally went to work licking and sucking at your bundle of nerves as your fingers twisted in his hair. A few moments later you felt his fingers slip into your wet cunt and press upwards, giving you everything you wanted all at once.

It hit you all at once, your orgasm shot through you. You muttered his name as you gripped his hair tighter and felt him moan into you making the pleasure feel that much better. Even though you had already cum, it was clear he wasn’t about to stop, his fingers and mouth were working you so passionately and quickly. You were so sensitive your legs twitched every time his mouth did something too rough with you, but it just felt so good. 

You looked down at him between your legs as you felt yourself building up again and watched his eyes shut and his head moving between your legs. You don’t know how or why you found it as hot as you did, but it was enough to make you cum again just as the timer on his phone went off.

“Fuck fuck fuck” you breathed as a blissful feeling washed over you like an oven wave

He looked up at you and as soon as he was sure you were done, he stopped. He went to wipe his mouth on the back of his arm when you demanded he take his pants off.

He looked at you with raised eyebrows and a little surprise.

“Tell it to set a timer for thirty minutes.” 

“I-oh-okay. You don’t need to do that if you-“

“Do it.” You demanded once more as you took off your shirt.

“Hey Siri, set a timer for thirty minutes.” He said as he shed himself of his pajamas and sat up.

A thought had crossed your mind to tease him as he had you, but you couldn’t do that. You loved the look of it thick and veiny, the head of it already leaking from everything he had just done to you. You wanted the feeling of it filling your mouth and throat, you wanted to please him.

You watched as his already hard cock stood tall waiting for you to touch it, and you wasted no time doing so. You leaned down only playing with the head in your mouth with your tongue at first, getting a feel for the satisfaction of him inside of your mouth. He gasped when you took him all abruptly into the back of your throat. You decided immediately that you wanted to hear more of that sound so you let your head bob before your hand joined in at his shaft to help. You didn’t start slow whatsoever. You were set on making him cum faster and harder than he ever had before, throwing out the idea of time altogether. 

He sat back on his hands to hold himself up but those began to shake too the faster you went. Spit ran down onto his balls and you thought about playing with them but you felt like that might tip him over the edge. 

He was full of open-mouth moans, ones you wouldn’t mind hearing the rest of your life to the body and cock and personality of a man you wouldn’t mind having the rest of your life.

Just as you thought about it you shut the thought down and concentrated on making him feel better.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” You made out from his moans.

You kept going and felt his hips thrust up into your face in tandem with your movements. He was close, unbelievably, but for some reason, he was hanging on. Only a moment later you found out why.

“Fuck me. I bought condoms this morning, fuck me. Please I’m begging you.”

You pulled your mouth off of his cock with a lewd noise and looked at him but he was already standing up, dick as hard as a statue to crinkle a plastic bag on the island beside you both. 

“I’m deathly scared of having children when living in a place so small and with no job…”

“Thank you.” You didn't know what else to say as you watched him rip off a packet, come back to his knees, and roll the condom onto himself. 

“But then again if I did… wouldn’t that just fuck with Jin knowing I got you pregnant?” He lifted a brow.

Something about that turned you into a complete animal. You kept onto his lap and clung to him. Your lips smashed into his as you reached between the both of you and guided his dick into your hole. 

He felt just as good and filling inside of your pussy as he did your mouth. No one has ever filled you up this well, no one had ever wanted you so much.

He thrust upwards with you on his lap. You were practically a rag doll under the grip he had on your hips.

You began to rock your hips to the steady and slow way his hands commanded them.

“Ahh god.” He moaned as he let his head fall onto your shoulder and you wrapped your arms wrap around his shoulders so that your bodies pressed together.

“I love you.” He placed a kiss on your shoulder blade and whispered into your sweat sticky skin.

Your heart stopped but your hips didn’t.

He said it. It had taken him only three days. You recalled it had taken Seokjin six months and fifteen days exactly to say what Jungkook had in only three. The both of you had figured it out in only three days.

“I love you too.” You raced to say. 

His lips caught yours as he pressed you down onto his cock hard and rolled his hips under you with a grunt.

“These have been the best days of my life with you and I want to keep it that way. I want them all to be the best.” He was out of breath, his eyes were closed and his forehead rested against yours.

“Please.” You begged for the same. “Let’s move away and just be together.”

He let out a small laugh before he smiled.

“Is this gross? This is so weird, it’s only been three days.”

“I’ve never been happier.” You stated a fact. You had thought about it and thought about it non-stop. It wasn’t just attraction, lust, or infatuation you felt for him, this ran deep, deep into his personality, deep into the way he thought and did things. Far deeper than his cock that was buried inside of you right now.

“I bet I could make you happier.” He tried to hide a prideful smile.

“Oh yeah? How so?” You couldn’t help but smile back.

“I could make you cum again.”

Before you could answer he was giving you a quick kiss before practically tossing you off of him with a grin.

He grabbed your hips and flipped you over so that you were on all fours. The tingle that you got down your spine from this gesture was unbelievable.

“Hurry up and fuck me.” You demanded but he shushed you as you felt him press into your cunt.

He had only been not inside of you for a moment but your body had missed the feeling.

You gasped as you felt his grips tighten on your hips and pull your body backward onto him. He went full speed, full force slamming into you. His balls slapped against you. You were already so sensitive, so sore and tired, but you continued to want more.

“Has Jin ever fucked you like this?” 

You had never heard his voice so rough, so teasing, so devilish. You were about to lose it.

“No.” You whined.

“Who does this pussy belong to? Who’s the only person to ever cum inside of you?”

Your arms were shaking, struggling to hold yourself up. Your mouth was slightly open and your brain was so lost that you struggled for even the most simple reply.

“You.” Managed to move from your brain to your lips.

You felt his hand reach around to your clit and begin to rub fast and hard circles. It didn’t take long after that for your brain to shut down, to make way for the orgasm that blew through you like a car explosion. Your arms gave out and your face ended up on the mattress while your ass stayed in the air for him. You felt like you had melted as his dirty talk became mutters and moans. You felt his cock get harder inside of you and spill warm liquid into the condom. 

“I’ve-“ he panted from behind you with his hips now still “I’ve never had sex that good- besides- besides yesterday.”

You’d agree, but you were still a puddle with your cheek pressed into the sheets until you let yourself plop on your side after he pulled out. You felt so high. You laid there for a moment as he took off to the bathroom. He was in there a while, so you decided to get dressed in your clean clothes that he had washed last night that resided in his closet.

You were in disbelief, your hands were shaking as you pulled on the clothes.

Did he mean it?

It had only been three days since he held you in that parking lot as you cried. You remembered the hurt you felt when Jin had seen Jin cheat on you. It was the kind of hurt that left a scar on your soul. You were afraid.

Jungkook was so beautiful and so kind and you had fallen hard, too hard. You didn’t even know anything about his family or where he grew up or if he had ever had any pets or his favorite color.

Your mind was spinning, you were freaking out.

You slipped your shoes by the door on and began unlocking it.

“What are you doing?” 

His voice stopped you for a moment.

You thought about lying. You couldn’t lie, but you sure as hell couldn’t face him.

“I-I think I should go.” You stammered.

“Can we talk? Was it something I said?” 

You could hear his footsteps slowly come closer as if he was trying to approach a scared baby deer to keep it from darting away, and that’s exactly what you felt you were.

“What was it I said? The Jin stuff or the I love you?” 

You could tell his brain was doing whatever it could to piece together why you were leaving.

Just hearing him say the words again shredded you apart.

You felt your eyes welling up.

“Hey, hey look at me, please.” His voice was gentle and now coming from behind you. You couldn’t ignore him, not when he sounded so sweet. You faced him and his eyes scanned over the tears slipping down your cheeks.

“If you didn’t mean it that’s okay, you don’t have to right now. I won’t say it again if-“

“I did mean it.” Your lip quivered “I’m just so scared.”

You watched as his eyebrows furrowed at your words while waiting for you to explain.

“I was just hurt and…”

“If you don’t want to do this-I-I knew going into this that you were hurt, and trying to heal and a relationship might be too much for you while… it was selfish of me to-”

you cut him off by shaking your head.

“no.” you sniffled “I want you, I'm just afraid of being hurt. If I was hurt this badly by Jin, I can't even imagine how badly you could hurt me.” 

His big eyes stared with crinkled brows at you for a moment until he wrapped his arms around you.

“I swear I will never ever hurt you. I will never do what he did to you. Never.” 

Your teary cheek pressed into his neck as you breathed in his calming scent. “I'm so scared of being hurt too, I know how you're feeling. I thought you would end up going back to him and I would lose you. So many things that could make you not want me and so many ways this could go wrong keep running through my head. Please remember what you said, we're here now for each other, it's us against the world. Please please please don't leave me.”

You felt his cheek rest on the top of your head.

“I won't. I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking, I'm so sorry.” you sniffled with guilt and let your arms snake around his torso.

His form was becoming so familiar to you now, his scent already smelled of home, perhaps it did from the moment you had first let him hold you. Perhaps you were all his from that very moment in the parking lot, perhaps you both belonged to each other all along and just didn't know.

“I love you,” you spoke the words first this time, you felt no fear about it.

“I love you too, so much.” his hands slowly rubbed your back as you felt him kiss the top of your head.

You closed your eyes and took it all in, just you and him. You wished at that moment that you could go back and do it over. You would've picked him over anything else, and you knew you'd be so happy if you would've.

“Thank you for not letting me go.” you pulled back and looked into his eyes. “I could've really messed up just now.” 

He gave you a heartfelt smile.

“I hope you would've come back, I’d miss you a lot until you did. We're supposed to be together, you know.” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Oh yeah?” you couldn't help the smile that spread on your face.

“Mhmm. I have proof.” he lifted a hand and held it up fingers spread. “Give me your hand”

You thread your fingers through his and he let your held hands fall at your sides.

“Now close your eyes.”

You did just as he instructed and felt his forehead rest against his.

You had just had sex but any time you were this close to him made your heart pound so hard. It was as if he had unintentionally trained your body to do this for him.

“Do you feel it?” he whispered “Do you feel that feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that you'll never love this hard again?”

You had. You had and that's what has scared you so much.

“I do,” you whispered back.

“And can you see it? I can. I can see us moving together to the place you've always dreamed of. You'll get mad at me for being so messy but I’ll just admire you even if you're yelling at me.” 

You felt another small smile on your face as you imagined his words.

“I'll still love you even if I'm upset at you for being messy.” you let out a small breath of laughter.

“I know you will. We'll love each other no matter what because we'll be good to each other, we'll always be there to catch each other. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. Please believe me. I'm yours.”

You felt him kiss your cheek softly and you have him a nod.

Your soul felt so at ease. He had calmed your pain once again.

“If you're losing your mind in here we could just go for a walk you know.” he chuckled.

“Let's do that.” you agreed to it, knowing that he was about to take you out on another adventure.

You laid in his lap and looked up at his jawline. He was playing a video game, but it was fine with you as long as you got this view. He would occasionally run his fingers through your hair or readjust the flower in it that he had picked and stuck in it during your walk earlier.

Sunset was pouring through the sheer curtains making his skin look so golden. You loved the way he looked at this hour, his appearance matched his heart. You felt so warm and loved even when he wasn’t directly giving you his attention. Jungkook’s cup was always overflowing for you when you were used to only a cup half full. You, yourself, had always offered a full cup, but you never got the love you had given back.

“Do you think we’ve earned each other?” you asked as you looked up feeling the urge to kiss every piece of his jaw.

He paused his game and looked down at you.

“I do. I think we're very deserving of one another… Well, I have thought you were always too good for me, but we're both deserving of the love for each other.”

“You thought I was too good for you?” you broke out into laughter. 

“Don't laugh, I still think that.” he was serious.

“Nooooo no no no.” you shook your head. “Why would you think that?”

He shrugged.

“Well don't think that.” you sat up.

“Sometimes it's hard not to, look at me, I'm jobless right now and you're self-made. I live in a gutter with a mattress on the floor and you-”

You shut him up by pressing your lips to his and bringing your hand up to his cheek.

“I don't care about any of that,” you told him.

“I'm going to make sure we live a good life.” 

“I'm pretty happy with you fucking me on this mattress on the floor and we can live the rest of our lives this way, I don't care.” you had to drive the point home for him. Having a good life for you wasn't about what he had to offer, but the beautiful way he lived it, you didn't want that to change.

He crashed his lips into yours now and sent you backward. Your tongues met and lashed together and suddenly your hands were all over each other.

“I love you,” he mumbled into your lips as you tried to peel his shirt off.

“I love you too,” you replied as his hands pushed up your t-shirt and bra.

His lips went right for your nipples and the feel of his tongue and teeth mixing on the nerves made you arch your back into his mouth. You were once again getting high on him.

“I want you to fuck me and cum inside of me.” your mouth spouted off.

He moaned against your breast and you swear you felt his body shiver.

His mouth popped off of your nipple leaving it cold and wet.

“Fucking marry me,” he demanded before his mouth went to the other one.

At that moment you would. You wanted that, it sounded beautiful to you.

“Please. Let's do it. You want kids?” 

“Mhmm,” he replied as his teeth tugged at your perfect bud. 

“Fuck let's have kids.” 

He sat up between your legs and began undoing his belt.

You knew there was no way right now, you were on birth control but something about saying it all and imagining the perfect life was really doing it for you right now.

He tugged his pants off only leaving him I'm his underwear before undoing yours and pulling everything down just enough to get his hand in.

His fingers ran over your already slick folds.

“I'm going to do this to you every damn day of my life.”

A knocking made you both freeze.

“Don’t answer it,” you whispered, pulling him into you so you can connect lips again. 

For a moment you both did ignore the knocking until it turned to banging.

“Open the fucking door Jungkook!”

It was Jin. You had never heard him so angry.

“Shit fuck no.” you whispered as you both jumped up and pulled at your clothes so they seemed normal “he knows. How does he fucking know?” you whisper yelled in panic.

“He might not. It's okay, it's going to be okay.” 

“Maybe you should call the police.” you tried to get Jungkook to hear you over the pounding at the door.

“I'll step outside and talk to him. It will be okay.” even looking as scared as he did he was still trying to make you feel okay.

You slipped back into the closet but this time you left the door slightly open and peered through the crack.

You watched as Jungkook answered the door, went to step outside but Jin pushed him back.

“Where the fuck is she?” it hadn't taken long for Jin’s eyes to examine the room.

“Who?” Jungkook was once again playing stupid.

“What the fuck is all of this?” Jin nearly yelled, pointing to the condom wrapper still on the floor and the places on Jungkook’s neck. “I know for a fact your girlfriend flew home just last week.” 

“I don't have a girlfriend anymore, Jin.” you could hear the agitation in Jungkook’s words through his clenched jaw.

“Then explain.”

“I don’t have to.” 

“No? Well, I talked to her and she said she hasn’t heard from you in three days, just like the rest of us have both with y/n and you.”

Your heart felt like it had dropped into your stomach as you now stood there frozen.

“I saw you taking photos, you didn't even try to help get the girl off of me, you just took photos. I know you sent them to her. I know what you've been telling all of the others. I know this was a setup. I know you've always been jealous of me.”

“Jin, do you know how insane you sound right now? You need to-”

“YOU KNOW I’D NEVER CHEAT ON HER, I NEVER HAVE!” Jin yelled, “So why were you taking photos?”

“Jin, I saw you kissing the other girl.” Jungkook’s voice stayed calm.

“I didn't want it, she had me pinned, Namjoon had to come to help me. Everyone has told me you've been telling them this isn't the first time I’ve supposedly done this either, explain that!”

“Look Jin, you're the cheater here! Don't come to my house and start accusing me of shit!” Jungkook finally snapped.

“YOU’RE AN INSANE MONSTER, JUNGKOOK! WHERE IS SHE?” Jin screamed as loudly as he could.

“I DON'T KNOW.” 

You noted how easily lying came to Jungkook.

“You know! You know because you set this up, you're a fucking stalker and I've always done my best to protect her from you. You gonna tell her how I caught you following her to her classes in college when you didn't even go there? Or how Hobi found a picture you somehow had of her in your room at your parent’s house? Where is she so I can tell her, I will tell her everything.” Jin was seething in anger with his fists tightly gripped into fists at his side.

You still didn't step out of the closet.

“Fine! Fucking fine! You want me to tell you that I fucked her? I fucked her multiple times! I came inside of her, she told me she loved me. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“You're sick.” Jin growled. 

“At least I'm not a cheater.” Jungkook struck right back with his words.

“You ARE! And you're a fucking obsessed freak. I swear if you ever talk to me or any of our friends again I'll kill you!” tears ran down his cheeks.

“You're the one that's fucking insane, Jin.”

Upon hearing Jungkook’s words, Jin dove at him but only managed to push him back a little.

Seokjin was sobbing, he gave up and took off out the door.

As Jungkook closed and locked the front door things were silent.

You still stood in the closet and now felt warm liquid blurring your vision and spilling from your eyes. Your body was shaking.

He opened the closet, taking you by the arm and gently pulling you out.

You covered your mouth to try to keep the break down in.

“I can explain.” 

He didn't deny it, not any of it.

“What's true? You said you wouldn't hurt me so just tell me.” you forced even your shaking voice out.

“Listen, I've never- I haven't felt the way I feel about you with anyone before, and I…”

“Oh my God.” you said as your knees now shook “It’s all true, isn't it? Oh my fucking God.” 

“I-” he went to speak but your body had gone into fight or flight and you walked past him. Your body was trying to protect you by gathering your things, but it felt too late for it to kick in.

“I love you, I always have. I can text her right now and dump her.” he was following you around.

His voice felt so distorted as you felt so out of your own body.

“You haven't yet?!” you snapped at him. “At the very least you could have already done that. If you actually did love me you wouldn't have done all of this! What the fuck is up with the talking anyway?!”

“Please don't leave me, please, I'm begging you. I meant everything I said.” he began to cry now too.

“I didn't!” you were hurting and you wanted him to hurt worse. “I was only fucking you to make myself feel better about Jin! You set this up! You ruined my relationship and hurt me! You're a fucking freak! I never want to see you again!” 

You marched to the door, very aware he had crumpled onto the floor in hard sobs behind you.

You walked, you simply just walked in the chilly night, still crying, your things under your arm. The worst part is that you did love him, you had meant everything you said to him too, but he had planned all of this. You no longer thought of him as golden, but fools gold.

You had no idea how long you had been walking, but you decided to sit down on the side of a curb.

Your hands shakily turned on your phone and texts and missed calls flooded through but you ignored them.

The first thing you did was block everyone's number. You were done, it was over, you never wanted to do any of this ever again.

The next thing you did was book a one-way plane ticket to Hawaii. 

You deserved to be happy, even if, for the first time, it was only you. Your cup had always been full of loving others, but never did you think until now that that cup could be full for only you. You wouldn't ever let anyone take from your cup ever again. What filled your cup was genuine, it was gold while all the rest held only water. 

“Tomorrow is going to be better.” you told yourself.

You weren't happy now, but you knew you would be. You could take yourself on adventures every day, you could put flowers in your own hair, and if you fell down a hill at full speed, you could catch yourself. You promised that you'd never let yourself fall ever again.

[harryhoney-bee]

Only the ocean and us

A day at the beach with Dad!H, where he wants to teach their baby how to surf but (Y/n) can't seem to stay relax.

Warnings: None!

word count: 700

Masterlist

"Okay Cecília, we got this, we are brave and we are strong," Harry says to his daughter, a five-year-old girl who had the same eyes as him.

"Yes, daddy! We are brave and strong," Repeats the little girl. "We are going to the sea just like Ariel!."

"Yes! do you think we will turn ourselves into mermaids too?" Harry bubbles to her, with a dramatic expression on his face

"Of course!" Laughs Cecília in her sweet voice.

Harry and (Y/n) decided to take some time off and go on a family vacation, and what place in the world was better for a family vacation than Hawaii?

The whole Styles family was excited to rent a house and live near the beach for the next two weeks. Especially Cecília, the oldest child.

"Harry, do you think it's a good idea? You don't have experience teaching kids how to surf," Warns (Y/n), she really wanted Cecília to have a good bond experience with Harry, but at the same time, she was nervous.

If she could go with them she would feel a little less nervous, but she needed to take care of Lorenzo, the two-year-old who was taking a nap on his little beach chair.

Also, surfing with a 5 mouth belly wasn't considered safe, so the best option for (Y/n) was to stay in the sand with her baby boy while watching her two other loves "venture" themselves at the sea.

She knew Harry would only go on the shallow part of the water and Cecília wouldn't be riding waves anytime soon, but her maternal instincts were still very alert.

"Mama, don't worry, I have water powers like Moana!". Answers the little girl on Harry's lap, he was holding her with one arm, while the other was holding his surfboard. The contrast between his inked arm and Cecília ’s pink bathing suit was amusing.

(Y/n) laughs and go near them, kissing Cecília 's forehead and Harry's cheeks. "I know you have! But even the sea can be more powerful than warrior princesses."

"Don't worry about us, love. She has her life jacket on, and we are only learning how to stand up on the surfboard today, so no deep water." Harry kisses (Y/n) on the temple. "Now why don't you enjoy that Lorenzo is sleeping and go read your book?"

"Ok, but please be careful, alright? I love you both."

"We love you too, mama!" peeps Cecília, her face white of the amount of sunscreen Harry applied on her face.

"And you, Mrs. Styles, just worry about you and our little bean." Said the man, putting his big hand on the bump where baby number three was. "If you need anything just scream and we'll be here, also, Lorenzo's shirt is in that blue bag near the parasol, in case he gets cold."

"Bye, mommy," waved Cecília while she and Harry went in the direction of the sea, the water was so shiny, the prettiest shade of blue (Y/n) have ever seen.

When (Y/n) sat back at her beach chair, the curly-headed boy started to wake up. Lorenzo was your little twin, everything on his face resembled you, except for the soft hair.

"Mommy, where are daddy and sissy" Mumbles Lorenzo, standing up and sitting on (Y/n)'s lap.

"They are there baby, look," She points at the man in yellow shorts and the little girl on a blue surfboard. "Cecília is learning how to surf, when you get older daddy will teach you as well."

"Wanted to learn now, mama." Lorenzo looks at (Y/n) with a pout on his face, she didn't want him to feel left out. "Hey, what about you and I build a sandcastle? One that is bigger than the London eye!"

The boy looked at his mom, his face with a slight frown.

"Ok but when daddy comes back I want to swing with him too."

(Y/n) weren't surprised by the answer, Lorenzo's was a daddy's boy for sure.

But that didn't matter at the moment, because she could only see the three loves of her life (and one soon-to-come) having fun.

She never felt more love in her body.

[after-witch]

Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Title: Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Ransom Drysdale, and you mean it this time. But the freedom that comes with the breakup leads to a series of unexpected coincidences that leave you wondering: was it worth the price?

Word Count: 8955

notes: yandere, mentions of physical abuse, financial abuse, comfort sweaters

Nothing lasts forever. Not even relationships--and certainly not love. What might start off as an intense, passionate relationship can (and did, in your case) eventually fizzle; things that you were willing to overlook when you were absolutely besotted would wear down with time, and eventually they became too much to ignore.

That’s what you tell yourself, what you remind yourself, in the moment after you tell him:

“It’s over, Ransom. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

It couldn’t last forever. Not with his inability to stay sober, not with his tendency to cheat on you with meaningless flings that somehow hurt more than any steamy single-minded affair. Not with his flare-ups of controlling tendencies that left you in tears on the bathroom floor as he asked you to please stop dressing like a slut in front of his family, is that too hard to ask?

You’d asked him to change. He swore he would; he never did. You forgave him, more than once, more times than you could count. But enough was enough. Maybe he thought you were too weak to leave him, especially three years into your relationship, when your lives were becoming so integrated, pushing you towards a potential permanent future. It was a future that left you feeling numb and anxious. Stuck in a marriage with someone who wanted to stay with you but treated you horribly, all the same. And that wasn’t even getting into the family dynamics that left your head spinning.

He stares at you now, and his mouth opens just a little bit in what you know is going to be a barrage of questions, insults, maybe even threats spurred on by your words. But instead he closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“Well, damn. This sucks.” You can see the indent of his tongue in his cheek before he clicks and shrugs. “Guess that’s it then. Need help packing your shit or what?”

His response is so blasé that you’re genuinely shocked and, you must admit, a little hurt. He didn’t even ask for a second chance or beg you to stay or argue with you about your terrible timing because our-vacation-to-Hawaii-is-coming-up. So it’s your turn to look surprised, and you shake your head.

“No, I… already took care of it. It’s at a storage locker.” You didn’t have family left, and your close friends had pulled away from you one by one once you stayed with Ransom time and time again--so you’d had to pay movers to help you pack and transport everything to storage over the weekend, while Ransom was away and you were free to make a clean breakup.

He nods, sticks his hand inside his jacket pockets. He’s looking around the room, avoiding direct eye contact in a clear show of his discomfort. It’s weird seeing Ransom like this--the normally self-assured, cocky Ransom, looking for any excuse not to look at you.

“So… see ya around?” His tone is sincere, if still confused. The idea of you leaving must have really never crossed his mind. The look on his face when he finally faces you again appears genuinely puzzled.

He sticks out his hand and it feels almost comical for things to end this way, particularly considering the nights you’d spent imagining some big blow up, some big fight with Ransom screaming and you firing off the many reasons why it had to end no matter what he said.

But it didn’t go the way you expected at all. It was calm. Easy. A clean break-up.

So you shake his hand and grab your purse and the small roller-suitcase and give a half-hearted wave as you walk out the door; the taxi you’d hired to pick you up is waiting, car running, meter going. You would be staying at a hotel for two weeks, which would hopefully be enough time to find a semi-decent apartment; your credit score had improved so much since Ransom added you to his cards, to a shared checking account, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get approved.

A new life, one where you could focus on yourself for once, was just around the corner.

**

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's definitely not the reader. The card is declined."

You've had this nightmare before. No, you've lived this nightmare before--years ago when your credit was shit and you ran up your cards and had to face the music in a publicly humiliating display with the longest checkout line you'd ever seen behind you. Only that was years ago, in a little grocery store, and since getting together with Ransom you never had to worry about problems like this. You never had to worry about the shame of not having enough, not being enough.

But this? This was happening now. In an upscale hotel. With your nice purse (a Christmas present) and designer clothes (casual, comfortable) and your cheeks flushed undeniably warm.

The hotel clerk has a tight, sympathetic smile on her face. A coworker who walks behind her glances at you, judging, and you just know he's going to head into some break room and tell everyone but yet another piece of discarded army candy with a declined credit card. You wish you'd kept your sunglasses on.

"Did it, um, say why? I don't--" you plaster a smile on your face, hating the way this all feels familiar, like a part of your past coming back to haunt you. "I don't understand, the card is good."

The clerk's smile flickers, just a bit.

"It says there's a fraud alert on this card. Perhaps you'd better call the company. Or would you like me to call them?"

Fucking. Ransom.

"Oh, oh no, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself. I'm so sorry about this." You turn away from the clerk as quickly as possible and step away from the counter, away from the person waiting behind you who will surely have no trouble with their card, away from the clerks giving you a passive side-eye. You lean against a cool cement pillar in the lobby and you know what you have to do.

You have to call Ransom.

You haven't deleted his number yet--you'd planned on calling him today or tomorrow to figure out how to split up your shared finances--so it's easy enough to find the number. It's not so easy to tap his contact, but you have to, so you force yourself to do it and stare at his photo as the call rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello?” Your breath catches but in an instant, when the message continues, you feel stupid. It’s his voicemail. Fuck.

You text him, instead. Emergency. Call right away. And of course: He leaves you on read. Fuck.

You call him again. And again. He picks up on the sixth call, but your heart is racing too hard and sweat is beading down your forehead and it takes you a moment to confirm that the "Hello?" wasn't part of the voicemail message this time. Fuck.

"Um. Hey," you say, keeping your voice as un-royally-pissed-off as possible, because if he did put in a fraud alert then you don't want to risk any additional asshole moves. "So there's something wrong with the card? The one that ends in 8921? The hotel said there was a fraud alert and--"

"Did you really think I'm going to keep paying for your shit if we're over?"

His voice is quick, biting--exactly what you'd expected from him earlier. Somehow it stings even harsher over the phone, where you feel more helpless, unable to avoid his words.

"I thought..." you wet your lips, trying to maintain your cool. "Look, my name is on them, so I thought send you my part of the payments until I can get cards in my own name."

He chuckles, low and short. "Yeah? What, you want to create a payment schedule or something?"

You fight back the annoyance in your tone. You hate having to be the bigger person, but your finances--your life--is on the line. "Yeah, actually, that'd be perfect. It wouldn't be for long. You know I'll pay them on time, I'm not looking to screw you over."

"You're going too pay me on time? For all the stuff you've bought, the stuff I’ve bought for you, this hotel room and god knows what else? How are you going to afford all that?"

He knows you recently earned a promotion at your work. He knows this, because you were so excited about it, and his half-assed congratulations over lukewarm leftovers left you feeling bitter and sad and useless. So you can't help it when bitterness seeps into your voice with your answer. "You know I just got a promotion."

"Did you?" It's said in such a casual tone that it gives you pause, but a moment later he simply hangs up on you.

Fucking. Ransom.

You shove your phone back into your purse, and the clerks at the counter are staring at you. Sweat has trickled down your back and your shirt sticks to your skin ever-so-slightly as you pull away from the pillar and approach the counter, awkward smile and cheeks hot.

"There is an issue with the card, they're working on it, so I’ll just call for a new reservation when it's fixed. I'm so sorry for the mix up!" Your voice is so peppy and high-pitched and fake and you feel like you’re back at your old job, feet aching with falling apart shoes, forced to deal with people returning old toasters laden with crumbs, calming they’d “just bought it the day before and it didn’t work.”

"Of course," the clerk says, and you know this is hotel clerk code for "You're a shitty liar."

You roll your suitcase out of the lobby with tears in your eyes and you shove your sunglasses on as soon as you've cleared the building. You feel exhausted, drained--so you use what little energy you have left to start googling for cheap motels.

**

The room smells musty. You pin the plastic sheet you’d snagged at a dollar store over the comforter and pray it will be enough to protect you from whatever is on the likely unwashed fabric. The TV is broken, there’s no WIFi, and there’s a few suspicious stains on the floor that make you wonder if this hotel has ever been featured in a porno, true crime show, or both.

But it’s all you could afford with the cash in your wallet. You only had enough cash on hand for 2 nights at a ragtag hotel that offers nightly and hourly rates. You didn’t dare use your debit card or any credit cards with Ransom’s name or information on them.

You just need some sleep. A good night’s sleep to feel renewed and ready to tackle retaking your life, bit by bit. In the morning, you need to go to the bank and withdraw your money from the joint bank account. Then you can reopen an account in your name, get a new debit card, and apply for a few credit cards afterwards.

Sure, it would have been nicer to do this without Ransom being an asshole. But deep down, you suspected he wouldn’t let you have a clean, lets-still-be-friends type of break. Not after all the times he’d pressured you into staying, manipulating you with words and gifts and promises, promises. Promises that were worth shit. 

The sheet crinkles underneath you as you scroll through your messages. You’d texted a few formerly close friends about the breakup earlier, hoping that they’d maybe want to reconnect. So far, you’d been left on read, blocked, and received only one response: “New number, who is this?”

So much for that. Not that you can blame them. There are only so many times they can rush over for a late night intervention in which you tell them every horrible thing Ransom does (he’s controlling, he doesn’t want me to meet with friends without permission, he tells me what I can and can’t wear, he cheats, he lies, he pushed me--)--before they get tired of you returning to him, again and again and again.

The only one who’d been texting you recently--okay, for the past year--had been Ransom. Mostly dick pics. And demands for you to send him something back, which you always did after a while, because you didn’t want to deal annoyed texts or voice messages accusing you of clearly cheating on him or hating him because why else wouldn’t you be willing to send him so much as a sexy selfie to your boyfriend? 

But in between those, there were conversations. Sometimes sweet ones, sometimes thoughtful ones that always made you remember why you fell hard for him in the first place. Late night conversations from when he was off on trips. You try not to wonder if he was fucking someone on each of these trips, if while you were sending him a late night ramble about a TV show and he was humoring you with jokes and quips, he was actually snuggled up with someone else. Laying in bed, naked, laughing at your dumb ass waiting at home.

The not-so-sweet conversations were ones that you had screenshotted and sent to your friends more than once, before they pulled themselves away. Texts asking where you were. Asking who you ate lunch with, and whether or not you were fucking them. Asking why your new office was connected to a certain co-worker’s, and how many blowjobs you had to give to get said new office because you didn’t tell him about the new office until after you were moved in, so you were clearly hiding him. Asking you to send him outfit pics so he could approve them or make you change if they were too slutty or not slutty enough or if you were only clearly wearing that halter dress to try to get with the bartender.

Yet your mind had always returned to the nice Ransom, the Ransom who made you laugh and squeezed you hard when had a shitty day of work and let you bury your face in his sweater as you snuggled on the couch. Maybe that’s why it took so long to leave.  You were waiting for him to stop being Ransom and start being the fantasy of Ransom you’d conjured in your head.

Your eyes feel heavy so you plug in your phone, turn the sound off, and lay down on the uncomfortable plastic sheet that crinkled over the pillows. It feels strange to lay on a lumpy mattress covered in plastic, after years of custom-made beds and memory foam pillows and all the other luxuries that Ransom was able to provide.

You try not to think about it too much. While you won’t exactly be indulging in all the luxuries you had with Ransom, but your job pays you well, and you won’t ever have to go back to living hand-to-mouth like you did before. You won’t have to worry about late bills and debt collectors and landlords who come late at night and demand inspections while you’re in your pajamas.

You have work in the morning. You have to get to the bank in the morning. Your thoughts are still buzzing with anxiety as you fall into an uneasy slumber.

**

“I’m sorry, but the account has been closed.”

You feel years of customer service training cracking underneath your skin. You can’t freak out. If you freak out, they won’t feel inclined to go the extra mile. You know this, from firsthand experience.

So you take a shaky breath. “Um, this just--it isn’t possible. It’s a joint account. I’m on the account. There was money in there, you can check--”

“I’m sorry, but the funds were transferred and account has been closed by the other account holder. There’s nothing I can do. I suggest contacting the other party in the account.”

You swallow and nod and walk away, this time having been smart enough to keep your sunglasses on to hide your humiliated expression. Why didn’t you insist on having your own account? Ransom said it was better to keep it joint, so you could just buy stuff whenever you wanted. You’d agreed because it was so generous, something you’d never thought possible at the time, when you were used to having to pay overdraft fees and cringing whenever you checked your balance.

Your fingers tremble as you bring up his contact on your phone. You tap. No answer.

You don’t have time to call him two, three, ten times--you have to get to work. So you steady your nerves. You breathe in, you breathe out. You get in your car and plug your phone in and decide to contact your lawyer. Fuck--your lawyer was Ransom's lawyer. But the anxiety eases when you remember that you’d paid him a retainer fee months ago, and Ransom couldn’t do anything about that. You could at least get a basic consult out of the retainer.

The call ringing sounds muffled through your car’s speaker but it isn’t long before someone answers, and you’re transferred to the lawyer Ransom insisted you have--gotta have a lawyer when you have money, babe--and that you hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Hi,” you say, voice artificially bright, “this is--”

You don’t get a chance to finish.

“I know who this is.” The lawyer sounds tired, and his tone is curt and clipped. “I’m sorry. I’m no longer able to provide you with any legal counsel.”

You almost miss a red light and regret calling the office while you were driving.

“Is this about the debit card? Because I paid the retainer months ago--”

“The retainer has been refunded into the connected checking account.”

Your voice looses its artificial cheeriness and you stumble over your words in frustration. “That’s--it’s--it was a joint account, which is why I called, Ransom drained it and took everything. Isn’t there something we can do, because that was my money too and--”

“I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel.”

You want to cry. You hate crying, as an adult. It makes you feel weak. Especially on the phone.

“I don’t understand. Why was the retainer refunded? Did--did someone call you?”

He clears his throat into the phone. “I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel. Goodbye.”

He hangs up. Your hands shake.

You pull into the parking lot of your work and park the car and as soon as you do, you hunch yourself over the steering wheel and simply shake in frustration.

You have no bank account. Ransom drained it. You have no credit cards. Ransom blocked them. You couldn’t even talk to a lawyer, because--shock--Ransom made sure you couldn’t. Everything was in Ransom’s name. He insisted on adding you to his accounts, closing out your own paltry ones; insisted that he pay off your credit card debt, and making you close those, too, instead adding you to his cards. It was all to help you out, he said, at the time.

Wasn’t it? He was shockingly not judgmental about the state of your finances, and while you’d put up some protest, you didn’t exactly argue with him when he suggested wiping your debts clean and getting your credit back up. And considering that he wasn’t immune to needing a bail-out now and then (late night calls to his grandfather, snarky comments at his parent’s dinner table, come to mind) maybe he could sympathize with being in over your head. Even if your issues were rooted in poverty and shitty jobs and his were rooted in a total lack of financial discipline and, as you’d later found out, a drug addiction.

Still. He helped you before. He would help you now, once he realized how serious it was. For now he was just--reacting like an asshole, acting childish and ridiculous. He was an asshole. You know this. You’ve known this. You need to call him and meet with him and make him realize how ridiculous he’s being, and he’ll sigh and snark but he’ll agree to stop acting like such an ass.

But first you have to work. Life goes on. Even without Ransom--even with Ransom, screwing you over out of pettiness.

The air conditioning in the lobby is on blast, and the familiar smell of clean furniture and floor cleaner from the late-night cleaning crew is surprisingly comforting. Here, you can forget about Ransom--forget about the cards and the lawyer and the fact that your life has been upended in mere hours. If only until your lunch break, at least.

Anthony is working the front desk and you give him a a soft, if strained smile. There’s something in the smile that he gives you in return that reminds you of the hotel clerk. Sympathetic and judgmental.

Ah. You probably look like--well, less than your best, you realize. You did pack some toiletries in your suitcase but the water in the motel had streaks of brown and you didn’t shower, opting instead to rinse your face with what was left of a water bottle you’d bought earlier and layering on more deodorant to make up for the lack of a proper scrub. You probably looked a bit tired, haggard, not unlike some of the employees who got stuck with big clients the night before their paperwork was due.

Still. Nothing that freshening up in your private bathroom--thank god for the new office--can’t help. So you hit the button on the elevator and take deep breaths as you ride up, intent on working as productively as possible. The doors open and you navigate the familiar maze of open-plan desks for the lower-tier workers, desks surrounded by half-walls that always kept you staring straight ahead, lest you accidentally glance over and see a co-worker picking their nose.

Yet as you weave in-and-out of the familiar rows, heading towards the back of the room where the real offices, the ones with full walls and doors and privacy glass lay, you can’t help but feel that something is… off. 

No one calls out to greet you, though that can be easily attributed to the jealousy over your promotion. You’d been working there for far less than most of the lower level workers--Ransom got you the job, with his connections and a hefty revision of your resume and, you assume, some personal phone calls--and you’d already been promoted to senior management. That wasn’t technically Ransom’s work, though. That was all your own effort, your own blood, sweat, tears and intense devotion to each project that came your way. Sure, the connections he helped you make, the dinner parties, all that helped--but if it weren’t for your skills, the connections wouldn’t have made a difference. Right? 

Still, whatever bitterness existed in the people hunch in open-air cubicles, the receptionists always greeted you. But today they caught your eye then awkwardly glanced down, or pretended to be looking for something in their drawers. It was odd. Did you look that bad? That out of sorts?

You shake off the heavy feeling in your stomach and for once, you shut the door to your office instead of keeping it open for passers-by or people needing approval for this-and-that. It feels good to lean against the solid wood door and take a breath, a deep one, invigorating and calming.

A quick trip to the bathroom has you staring at yourself from all angles. You don’t look that bad, you reason. Just tired. But who wouldn’t be, sleeping on a plastic sheet in the shittiest motel in the area? You take a quick sniff under your arms but even that reveals nothing much but a faint hint of sweat and powdery deodorant.

There’s a firm knock at your office door and you glance at the mirror for a final once over before opening it up. It’s your boss. Did you have a meeting? You try to do a mental scan of something you’ve missed, but nothing comes to mind.

“Hi,” you say, wavering with uncertainty at the threshold. Should you invite him in? “What can I do for you? We didn’t have a meeting, did we?” You let yourself chuckle, dry and quick. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit scattered this morning.”

Your boss doesn’t return your chuckle, which immediately raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was wrong. Shit--you were working on a major project for a seriously important client. The type of client that could genuinely make or break a company, if you got on their bad side. You press your lips together and make a silent vow to keep it serious.

“I’d like to keep this conversation private.” His tone is low and serious and you invite him in without a second thought, shutting the thick door behind you, trying to ignore the way everyone was shooting glances as it closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your thoughts race--no wonder everyone was giving you the stink eye. Something was wrong with the client, and you were the one making primary contact with them.

Your boss takes a seat on the leather sofa pushed up against the wall and you immediately set yourself down behind your desk.

He sighs. Short. Frustrated. Annoyed.

“We have to let you go.”

The words don’t register.

“Go where?”

It’s only after you say it that you realize what he said, what it meant, and you feel like a colossal moron in every respect.

“It’s not working out,” he continues, staring at your desk and not at your face. “Since you’ve only been in this position for a month, you don’t quality for senior severance. The best we can do is to pay you what you’ve earned this week.”

Your mouth is so dry that you don’t know if you can talk. Your hand fumbles on your desk for a water bottle you’d left overnight, and that’s when you see it--the photo frame. You keep a photo of yourself and Ransom, cuddled together for a selfie, on your desk. The photo was lying on your desk, frameless, ripped in half--leaving only your vacantly smiling face staring up at you.

Ransom was here.

“Did he put you up to this?” You whisper. “Did Ransom tell you to fire me?”

You know he won’t answer. But you stare at him so fervently that he can’t help but look up at you, and you see it all in his eyes, in the subtle, embarrassed expression of his face.

You can imagine Ransom strolling in--maybe he called first--and settling in for a private audience with your boss in his office. He’d probably pull the chair up to the desk and put his feet on it, just to be an ass. Then he’d bring up… you. And why you had to be let go. Did he give a reason, did he tell your boss why a respected employee who he once secured a position for, who shot up the ranks through intense effort and work, needed to be fired? Did he even need to give a reason?

“This is absolute bullshit,” you say, finally, voice dry and hoarse and bitter. You want to say you’ll be contacting a lawyer. That this won’t stand. But you know--and he knows--that there’s nothing you can do.

Your boss stands, slow, and sighs again. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Pack up your things as quickly as possible.”

He leaves, and you keep your eyes trained on the ripped photograph to avoid seeing the expressions of the people in the doorway before your boss mercifully shuts the door.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

You don’t have much effort left.

**

Your things consisted of a handful of personal items, little touches you’d brought in to make your office feel more like “you.” A nice picture print. A pastel afghan to drape over the couch. A stapler with a floral design. You have the strong urge to dump them in a trash can, but that’s quickly quelled by the realization that you can’t afford to buy new things, or any things, at this point.

You don’t care if wearing your sunglasses as you power walk to the elevators makes you look stupid. You know someone, somewhere in this office is filming you and probably captioning it with something stupid to post to their Reels or TikTok, and it just makes you leave faster. A few people murmur comments your way, sympathetic in tone, but you’re not really listening. None of their platitudes matter, because Ransom was here, in your workplace, in your office, and he stole the thing you were most proud of from under your feet.

To his credit, when you reach the bottom floor, Anthony practically fumbles out from behind his desk and holds the door open for you. He mouths a “Sorry” and he probably is, but he’s probably used to dealing with rich assholes like Ransom who get what they want, when they want it; even when what they want is to fire a good employee on demand for very personal reasons.

The sun is beating down hard, even for the morning, and the stress of your situation makes you blast the air conditioning as soon as you get in the car. God, the car--how are you going to afford the payments? You wish you could call your mom. You wish your friends--are they even your friends, anymore?--would call you back.

You grab your phone from your purse and stare at the black screen. Maybe you should call the friend who didn’t block you. She would answer, if you called, because she knew you didn’t make calls unless it was serious. She might not rush to your side, but maybe she can offer you a place to stay, a couch, some advice. A kind word would do, right now, with how much anxiety and frustration has been packed into the last 12 hours.

But when you unlock your screen, your gut sinks. Five missed calls. From the storage company. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You tap their number and bring the phone to your ear and pretend that your hands aren’t shaking.

The man who answers is the same one you talked to on the phone before, when setting up your move. “Hello, Move’nSecure Storage Company. This is Steve speaking. How many I help you?”

“Hi Steve!” You hate how chipper you sound. “I actually just got a few missed calls from you guys, I’m sorry, I was in the office and--”

“Oh.” His voice is surprisingly flat, suddenly flat, losing its customer service inflection in an instant before picking it back up. “Yes. We’ve been trying to reach you. For confirmation, the storage locker your purchased is A443, correct?”

You fumble in your purse for the receipt and confirm the little numbers printed neatly on the paper. “Yes, A443. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” You’re grateful that you didn’t have much for breakfast because you know it would be clawing its way back up at this point. “The card you gave us for the storage fee was declined.”

The debit card. You’d paid in cash for the move, and paid for 1 month of storage with the card. The card that was now useless, connected to an empty and closed bank account.

“Is there another card you can give us?”

“No, but...” You say, because no, there is not. There is not a card. There is not a job. There is nothing. “But if you could just hold my stuff, I’ll be there in less than a hour to get it.”

“We don’t hold items,” Steve tells you, a rehearsed banality to his tone. “Your items are currently outside the unit.”

You instinctively want to yell at Steve but, fuck fuck fuck, you’ve been there, behind the counter, dealing with people who couldn’t pay for shit and then had the nerve to get upset with you. “All of it?” You ask, your voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

You hang up, and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The quicker you get there, the less chance that something will get broken or stolen or who knows what else.

The trip to the storage unit seems to take forever, and when you arrive you don’t even take a second to lock your car doors. Instead you sprint inside, startling Steve--looking at his phone, then at you, then at the sign plastered up on the wall leading to the storage locker floors. He points. Row A, separated into 100s, 200s, 300s, and--your number--400s.

You don’t remember if you say ‘thank you,’ because you’re speed-walking down the hallway and following the signs and it isn’t long before you see it: a storage locker with tons of stuff piled up, dumped, outside the now-empty unit where it was supposed to be safe and sound. Waiting for you to get an apartment and pick it back up and rearrange it into your new life, your new “you.”

The problem is immediate: You can’t fit all this in your car. You don’t know anyone who could take the stuff for you. You mind reels for options and the only thing you can come up with is ferrying your belongings to and from the hotel. You can pay for a few more days once you cash your partial paycheck. After that… you don’t know.

Pawn your things? Yeah. That might work. You can get enough cash by pawning most of your stuff, the good stuff. Enough money to get you into a shitty apartment with leaks and a bad landlord. Then you can a job that barely pays rent and you’ll be right back where you started, before you met Ransom. Before you thought leaking ceilings and $20 paychecks after taxes were a thing of the past.

You ignore the humiliation that makes your stomach curl as you take your things out to the car, handful by handful. Steve doesn’t bother holding the door open for you. You mention that you’re going to be back on your way out, and he offers a non-committal hum.

At least when you get to the hotel, the owner sees you fumbling with boxes and offers to help you out. It takes less time with two hands to get everything in the room, and once it’s locked up you head back out to the storage units.

You keep your sunglasses on for the second trip into the storage unit, even though you don’t know Steve or care what he thinks. He doesn’t look up when you walk in and it’s just as well, since you’re only heading back to the A-400s and don’t need his non-existent help.

But the sight that greets you when you round the corner to your unpaid-for storage locker makes your blood run cold.

Your stuff is gone. All of it.

You rush back to the desk, where Steve does look up, startled by your urgency.

“My stuff,” you spit out, “My stuff is gone! Someone took it!”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry.” He points to a sign behind him: “We are not responsible for the loss of items inside or outside storage lockers.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” You can’t the anger in your voice this time. “You just watched someone walk off with my stuff and didn’t say anything?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “If it was that important, you shouldn’t have left it here. Or you should have given us another card.”

You feel like throwing your hands up but you just clench your fist and storm out the door, huffing as you reach your car. The anger melts into the sense of loss, the realization that you only have a few meager items that you’d managed to collect; you picked the lightest stuff, first. And in retrospect it was things that didn’t matter much at all. Clothes. Hair supplies. Makeup. You should have grabbed the box with your USB sticks, your memory cards, your photo albums; your personal mementos and sentimental shit. Instead you grabbed the box with your shampoo.

At least the clothes might get something in a pawnshop. The makeup, too, on Facebook or Depop or Instagram. But it wouldn’t be enough to put you up in an apartment. You’ll have to live in your car. Until they repossess it for lack of payment.

You don’t have your bank account, your credit cards, your job, a place to stay, or your personal possessions. And soon, you won’t have your car.

You have no friends. No boyfriend. No family.

All you have $20 left in your wallet and well, fuck it. You grab some McDonalds on the way home because, fuck it, and eat all the fries before you make it to the motel. The thought of eating in your dirty room makes your stomach turn and you decide to eat everything else you bought, the burger and the shake and the chicken nuggets too, tossing the wrappers on the floor. It feels like deja vu--getting cheap fast food to make you feel full, tossing trash on the floor of the passenger seat, all bringing back the way you used to when you’d grab something from the dollar menu on your way to work at the call center.

You almost wish you could stay at this hotel, brown water and all. The owner is decently nice. He smiles at you when you enter and doesn’t bring up that you didn’t come back with more boxes, like you said you would.  

You’re surprised at how grateful you feel for the dingy hotel room now that you won’t be able to stay here more than another day. Now that the alternative is sleeping in your car, then sleeping on the street, if you were lucky.

Your phone feels heavy when you set it on the table and stare at the home screen. Another photo of you and Ransom stares back up at you. You haven’t had time to change it up yet. He’s grinning. You’re smiling. It’s a good photo. You try to place it in your memory, try to remember what beach that was, but your trips blur together and you can’t.

Should you call him? If it was just the cards, just him being petty over credit and finances, it was one thing. You could try to placate him with returning gifts, just asking him to give you what you put in from your own paychecks. But making you lose your job? It was too far, too fucking far. And there was no going back from that. Fuck, someone was probably moving into your office as you sat in this dimly lit room mourning the loss of your entire life.

For a brief, very fleeting moment, you consider calling Harlan. You weren’t exceptionally close, but he seemed to like you well enough. He’d even asked you once, puling you aside at a tension-filled family party, if Ransom treated you right, told you to tell him if he ever got to be too much. Harlan felt like Ransom’s keeper--in more ways than one. You could never tell Harlan about the shouts or the occasional bruises from when Ransom really, really lost his temper--it’s not like you could prove them, anyway, as Ransom made sure to keep you away from his family when he lost control like that. No need for excuses about running into doors when he made sure you looked your best at family functions.

But the thought of breaking the uneasy stasis that Ransom had with the most significant member of his family made you want to vomit. There would be no coming back from that, and you knew better than to cross any line involving the great Harlan Thrombey.

You could call your friend--ex-friend? The one who didn’t block you or forget your number. You should. No, you will. Because what else do you have to lose.

But before you can bring up her number, you get a text--Ransom. It’s a photo and your curiosity gets the better of you as you click the notification.

“What the fuck?”

He’s sent you a photo of his car, trunk open. It’s filled with boxes, odds-and-ends. It’s filled with your stuff.

You text him: What??

He texts back: Hey. I’m in front of the hotel. Come out? Bring your suitcase. :P

It’s your stuff. It’s his car. He’s here. All reason is thrown aside as you grab your suitcase and purse and rush down the hallway, ignoring the owner’s confused response from behind his desk as you push open the front doors and look around the parking lot.

His car is parked to the side, not in front of the hotel’s glass double doors. He’s standing outside his car, leaning against it. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his pocket when he sees you approaching, face confused and fuming all at once.

“What the fuck, Ransom, what the fuck is your problem--”

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defense, “You’re not even going to thank me for picking up your stuff?”

You feel suddenly, impossibly rooted to the spot.

“What do you--what? You took my stuff?”

He shrugs. “C’mon, did you really think I’d just leave your stuff in some shitty storage unit? Someone would’ve taken it if I didn’t get there first.”

You swallow. “Why?” You ask, because Ransom never does anything for no reason. Or so you’ve learned.

His expression loses a bit of its cocky casualness. He tilts his head a bit, looking at you as if you’ve asked a particularly offensive question.

“Why do you think?”

To lord it over you? To make you think your stuff was gone and make you worried, sick, crazy?

“I don’t know,” is what you settle for in the end. “I really, really don’t. You--” You lick your lips, and try to calm down, calm the pitter-patter of your heart, and think before you speak. “You’ve done some pretty messed up stuff today. My job?” The last question comes out soft and pained, and you know your eyes are starting to tear up.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and placating and it makes your stomach flip as he approaches you, standing there on the sidewalk with your purse and suitcase. “Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry on me.”

You know this Ransom. The Ransom that holds you and pets your hair and offers to get Thai food delivered even though he doesn’t like it just to make you happy.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk it away. “Don’t.” That Ransom is a fantasy. Or an incomplete version, the version that pretends he doesn’t lie and cheat and hurt you in more ways than one. “Don’t you fucking dare, especially not after what you pulled today. My job? My job, Ransom? You’re a--a fucking asshole.”

He puts his hands up again, defensive, and takes a step back. But he doesn’t return to his car, and stays just a few steps in front of you.

“Look. Call me an asshole. Sure, fine, I can admit that. But do you know what else I am?”

He waits a beat, waits for you to look at him, before he continues. “I’m a realist. I like facts. And the fact is? You aren’t much without me. No job, no credit cards, no bank account. Without me, you’re just some broke chick scrambling to get an apartment in the shittiest part of town, working a dead-end job that don’t pay shit. With me though…. “

He leaves the words unfinished, but you know what he means. Flashes of your life, cocktails and smart business outfits and dinners at restaurants you didn’t even dream about attending before you met him. Phone calls with shakers in the industry and social media requests from people you’d never dream you’d meet. Connections that meant something, a career path, dinner parties with people who could offer tangible benefits to your career and your life.

It wasn’t that he spoiled you. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. You weren’t getting gifts for blowjobs. It was that his presence in your life boosted you, socially, financially, mentally, physically, in every which way possible.

His presence got you a job that you loved, which meant you weren’t burnt out when you came home, which meant that you had the time and energy to spend hours catching up on books or redecorating the house or watching movies. Good money meant you could order in whenever you felt like it, meant you didn’t have to worry if you burned dinner because you could just buy new steaks or order-in or go out, last minute, and still get a great table. It meant you had all the clothes you wanted, stylish and personally tailored; it meant you had easy access to a gym and exercise equipment and an indoor pool to keep you healthy. It meant you had a life that provided comfort in every way possible.

Being with Ransom Drysdale was like… like a little shot of privilege directly into your arm.

Privilege that he took away just as easily as he gave it. Just as easily as you took it. Just as easily as you took it and eagerly ignored the dark side underneath. Or maybe you didn’t ignore it. Maybe you liked it, maybe it reminded you of who you were underneath the designer clothes and expensive dinners.

Maybe you wanted to fix him, like he fixed you? He wasn’t totally bad, after all, he did make sure no one took your belongings. Maybe it was your presence that gave him the idea for that touch of sympathy, maybe with Ransom change was slow and muddled, not picture-perfect sweeping changes like the kind in movies.

“So?” Ransom’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Are you going to come home or,” he waves his hands around dismissively, at the hotel, at you.

You feel very, very less-than right now. You look awful, your hair mussy and your makeup mostly melted off with sweat and sun. You probably smell more than you normally do, thanks to the lack of a shower. Your muscles, sore from the motel bed, ache for the large spa bathtub that Ransom had installed in the master bathroom just for you, stocked with bubbles and salts and overpriced bath bombs that were $10 a pop.

But your muscles had hurt before, when he pushed you against the dresser.

You have nothing, and no one. Except Ransom. Ransom who didn’t judge you when you instinctively saved plastic bottles and boxes, but merely nudged you towards recycling and took you out to splurge on a reusable water bottle and proper storage containers the next day. Ransom who asked you what sort of job you wanted, really wanted, and made it happen for you. Ransom who shrugged and wiped away your credit card debt without making you feel like shit.

Ransom who didn’t let you leave the house if your wrists were sporting fingerprint shaped bruises. Ransom who argued with you about talking to men, even men at work. Ransom who held you tight at night and said he never wanted to let you go, and wouldn’t you just make a fine-ass addition his crazy family. Ransom who took care of you, now that you had no one else.

“What do you want me to do?” The words feel slow, sluggish. Like they wanted to stick to the roof of your mouth and it took everything in you to get them out.

His voice turns low and serious as he stares at you with an characteristic expression. “Well, the first thing is to get down on your knees…”

You feel your eyes practically bugging out.

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

He laughs. He always did have a nice laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Jesus. Take a chi-I-il pill. Just grab your purse and come sit your sweet ass in the front seat. Let’s go get some burgers, I’m starving.”

Your legs feel like jelly when you take that first step, and the sound of your roller suitcase as you pull it along seems louder than ever. Ransom pops the truck and you just manage to fit it inside with the handle closed, jamming it in between some boxes at an odd angle. The handle of the passenger side is familiar, warm from the sun.

You open the door and practically shove yourself into the seat, closing the door as fast as possible. You can’t do more than glance at him as humiliation and anxiety and just the smallest bit of relief washes over you. It’s been less than 24 hours since you broke up, and here you are--again.

He’s staring at you quietly, his expression difficult to place. He looks relieved. He looks annoyed. He looks like he wants to kiss you. He looks like he wants to slap you. Maybe he wants to do it all at once and can’t decide which to pick.

Instead, he puts his hand on your thigh. Gives it a squeeze. Hard, bordering on painful.  He’s staring straight ahead, at the worn-out sign on the hotel’s front door, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. He looks good in profile. “Don’t ever try to pull something like that again. I mean it. I really mean it.”

You turn, glance out the window, familiar tears at the edge of your eyes.

“I won’t,” you whisper, dreaming of the tub and bubbles and how good a warm soak will feel on your back, on your thighs, on your soul.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh firmly. He plucks his sunglasses out of pocket and puts them on in a smooth motion. The car starts smoothly, its fine-tuned and expensive engine a familiar sound, and your hands feel robotic as you pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it tight.

“Let’s get dinner and get home. You have some unpacking to do.”

[artsymagic429]

2p America Headcanons

Wears a dog tag received from his version of Davie who died in their world's war. This is his most precious thing other than his bat and sunglasses and is almost never seen without it. It was once taken by Lutz in a prank and let's just say, Lutz was bed bound for a month.

Get him angry enough and he slips into a Brooklyn accent. Also gains a New Jersey accent when the show Jersey Shore comes on which he detests with a burning passion.

Hates the aforementioned show and will join New Jersey in burning every bit of merch/DVD/CDs they can find.

Dresses up as a villain on Halloween to freak out Alfred.

Has a fear of clowns following the 2016 killer clown fiasco but will never admit it.

Loves his Louisville slugger bat and just about brings it everywhere. Has since taken all the nails out since living with America and the states. No one knows how it's able to fit in his jacket.

Knows what happened to his world's Roanoke Colony but will never tell.

Since coming to the 1p world, he along with the rest of the 2ps, have gained the same up-to-date scars their counterparts have. Most notably, he has two long scars on his back (towers), one on his forehead hidden above his hairline (pentagon), and one on his back calf(Pennsylvania) from the 9/11 attack to mirror Alfred.

Is surprisingly really good at horse riding and can lasso anything from yards away. This comes in handy when corralling states. Likes riding with Texas.

Doesn't know how to ice skate so Minnesota and Michigan helped teach him.

Extremely vulnerable to Hawaii and Alaska's puppy dog eyes despite his tough-guy image.

Makes sure to teach every kid baseball and joins New York at the Yankees games.

Often helps California with her vegan recopies and helps states like Kansas, Iowa, and Georgia grow their corn/peaches. Can actually cook because of this and Oliver's lessons as a kid, unlike Alfred who's tastebuds were ruined by Arthur.

Likes pranking other countries with the states.

Knows magic and helps tutor Lousiana and Massachusettes in their magic. (See my 2p America's Magic post for more info.)

Is really protective of the states and goes into papa bear mode when they're threatened.

Holds a grudge with Luciano and often terrorizes him.

Passed out when first introduced to Tony and still a little freaked out by him. interestingly, it's harder for him to believe in the concept of aliens than magic while it's the opposite with 1p America.

Loves taking care of the family whale, but will never admit to being a softie (He totally is).

Has a mouth on him and curses like it's going out of style. Censors himself rather creatively around the states though.

Trusts Delaware and Virginia the most out of all the states to be responsible and not do anything stupid.

[liaromancewriter]

Auld Lang Syne

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)

Format: Moodboard and headcanon

Rating: Teen

A/N: Submission for @choicesdecemberchallenge2021, prompt day 31, New Year. I'll be posting one for Maxenna too later today.

The timeline for this is three years into their marriage, before they had their girls; so just before Time of Our Lives.

Ethan and Cassie are expecting their twins (due in 2 weeks). She's had a difficult pregnancy, so they're not taking any chances.

They spent a quiet evening at home, an impromptu date night with all of Cassie's favorite junk foods (he kept the snarky comments to himself), watching a movie and cuddling.

They both love fireworks, so just before midnight, they bundled up and headed to their outside terrace to watch the sky light up.

The past year was unexpected. After spending time with their families during A Valentine Holiday, they left for Hawaii and spent New Year’s Day in their hotel suite, not wanting anyone’s company.

They rest of their trip was spent on the beach or on the water. Ethan’s favorite outfit for Cassie was this particular bathing suit (or nothing at all).

Ethan rented a motorbike and they set off exploring. Cassie really loves Ethan in leather jackets.

Cassie's book on medical advocacy, "First Things First" was published in the beginning of the year and became a bestseller within months. She and the Diagnostics Team became even more in demand.

As for Ethan, the first half of the year is always busy with the residency match decision deadline approaching. Since taking over as Chief, he spends majority of his time on making sure Edenbrook attracts the best talent.

Cassie’s most memorable trip of the year was the one she took to the ultrasound room and then discovered she was pregnant, with twins. It was unexpected as they hadn’t been trying since her miscarriage.

Needless to say, the event they’re most looking forward to in the new year is the arrival of their twin girls. The C-section is scheduled for January 15, so Cassie completes her 36th week.

They’ve both decided to take a six-month sabbatical after the girls are born to bond as a family.

That’s going to be their new adventure, their work and their fun time.

They fully realize that life will never be the same again and they’re okay with that.

Cassie loves celebrations of all kinds and the more “in style” the better. After all these years of being together, Ethan has leaned into it and just goes along with it.

If they’re going to dress up, it will be “to kill”. Cassie does it more so because more often than not she’s in scrubs at the hospital when dealing with patients, so it’s her chance to thirst trap Ethan.

Given a choice, they would rather host a party and they both don’t believe in New Year Resolutions.

Perma-tags: @jamespotterthefirst @genevievemd @forallthatitsworth @queencarb @openheartfan @danijimenezv @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @schnitzelbutterfingers @mainstreetreader @tsrookie @bex-la-get @chaoticchopshopheart @headoverheelsforramsey @thegreentwin @dorisz @custaroonie @takemyopenheart @jerzwriter @mm2305 @a-crepusculo @rosebudde @lucy-268 @crazy-loca-blog @writer-ish @wanderingamongthewildflowers @trappedinfanfiction @rookiemartin @anonymousrookie @natureblooms24 @cokesbetterthanpepsi @coffeeheartaddict2 @happiness21 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @openheartheadcanons​