#another thing I would have to refresh my memory on

[nimblermortal]

(Tea is reading The Return of Fitzroy Angursell, Nimbler is reading about De Sitter spaces.)

Tea: I really like that wild magic just sort of distorts the probability with which things happen to someone. So most people, if they want to go to another world, plan to travel for many months, go to the right place, wait for the gate to open... and Fitzroy slips on a rock.

--a short time later--

Nimbler: In sum, the universe is a big blob that we can describe magically. But a closed one! Like a deflated kickball, and mass is a heavy rock that, placed upon the kickball, causes a dent in it.

Tea: So wild magic is like a really really dense rock.

Nimbler: Well one of the ways that the blob is mathematically defined is that we have one virtual dimension of time and three physical dimensions of space - which I personally do not understand why we make that distinction but there we are. So I would say that wild magic is an additional virtual dimension, and that wild mages are particularly dense in that virtual dimension, which makes magical items and events tend to be attracted toward them, while not further distorting the physical dimension. Although they are perfectly capable of doing so! Spaces do distort each other.

[tendebill]

when im back from rehearsals i will just fucking read through all my tpata notes because fuck me and my """""organization"""""" """""skills"""""

[sapphictea]

sooo on top of being offered my dream opportunity in Germany yesterday, I have also been told the theatre is hiring and that they really really want me to have the job

2 years of nothing and suddenly two things I want to do turn up in two days! I hate making choices!

[rueclfer]

Fake Dating Pt 2 // Bakugou

a/n thank you for loving the first part so much! i hope you love this fluffy, wholesome moment as well :'-)

-

You wake up with a sour taste in your mouth. The headache wasn't so splitting thanks to the amount of water you had been forced to chug the night before, but beyond that, every other memory of last night seemed hazy.

I'm home... It's 9am...I'm in my bed, and I'm safe.

You release a sigh of relief and rub your eyes of the morning grogginess. You scroll through your phone, trying to replay the contents of last night, until you get to the bottom of your conversation with Katsuki. You suddenly remember why you started drinking so much in such a short amount of time in the first place.

You kissed him. You kissed him and you ran away because you couldn't deal with your feelings, and now you're here having to pray the memory away. Maybe you could play it off as a part of the bit? Surely, he would understand the drastic measures you needed to take to ensure that no one else from the other classes around would bother him anymore.

You smother a pillow into your face and scream in frustration as well as cringing at yourself, all while trying to remember the way his lips felt against yours in the back or your head.

"FUCK!" You exclaim loudly, throwing the pillow across the room.

Immediately, your bedroom door swings open, causing you to scream at the sudden intrusion.

"Jesus fucking christ, Y/N. What happened?!" Katsuki comes in, holding the metal bar from your towel holder, with only his boxers on.

You were going to throw up. Yup. You were 100% going to throw up and then throw yourself out the window.

You immediately cover your eyes with your hands.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" You scream back.

He had probably only been around to your apartment a few times with the others, but he clearly made himself comfortable.

"How the fuck do you think you got home last night?" He sighs, lowering his guard and makeshift weapon. "I was scared you were going to throw up in your sleep or something so I crashed on the couch... and used your shower."

You two stare at each other for a moment. You noticed his hair was still wet with droplets of water falling off onto his shoulders and chest. You tried not to stare and to maintain eye contact, but he was quite literally shirtless... and in his boxers...in your room... alone.

Realization finally hits you.

"Did you change me out of my clothes?" You slowly say, looking down at your pajama shirt and shorts that had replaced last night's outfit.

He pressed his lips together. "Yeah, but the lights were off."

You face flares with heat.

"Katsuki." You groan in your hands with embarrassment. "What the fuck?"

"What do you mean, what the fuck? Isn't that the polite thing to do? I didn't even look and I took your makeup off too, you're fucking welcome." He rolls his eyes.

"In return, I'm stealing your All Might band tee."

"Fine, dumbass. Top drawer on the far right." You huff.

"I know." He digs through the drawer, pulls out the tee and slides it over his head before making his way to your bed.

"Aht aht! What are you doing?" You say, threatening to throw another pillow at him.

"Didn't you want to talk about last night?" He smirks knowingly. "A refresher perhaps?"

You groan and rub your temples. "You're so annoying." You mutter. "Okay, the kiss. Let's talk about the kiss because if I have to talk- or even think about it anymore after this, I might just explode."

"Mmm okay. The kiss." He begins, flopping down on your bed and propping himself up with his elbow. "And before we continue, do you happen to remember everything else that happened after you scurried off in embarrassment?"

You froze. Everything else? What else was there to discuss besides the kiss?

"I mean yeah, kinda?" You try to recall. "We kissed, I went to go get a drink, got drunk in the bathroom, and then you came and took me home?" You open your phone to show him your text conversation. "What else was there?"

A smile grew on his face. "Angel face, I hate to break it to you but I don't think the kiss was the main event of the night."

Panic starts to set in. "We didn't hook up, did we?"

"No. I wouldn't do that to you, one. And two, I'm sure you'd be able to feel it if we did." He smirks.

You slam a pillow down on his face. "Stop fucking around with me! If not that, then what is it? Because you're scaring me now, Katsuki. Did I go streaking through the house? Did I get in a fist fight with someone? Did I confess my undying love to someone?"

"Not to that dramatic extent, but yeah pretty much." He shrugs.

"I'm going to fucking choke you out." You gripped the comforter in frustration "YEAH PRETTY MUCH TO WHICH PART?"

There was a beat of silence between you two, but your heart was racing out of your chest.

"It's not a big deal....if you don't want it to be a big deal, but in your drunken state, you essentially told me that you had feelings for me." He says, pressing his lips together trying to anticipate your reaction.

Your mouth gape open, and the air from your lungs expel. "I need to give me line by line breakdown of what the fuck I said last night."

It felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Not only did you embarrass yourself, but you had also managed to ruin your dynamic with Katsuki in the span of a few drunken hours.

"Well when I found you, you were pissed at me for no reason. So I asked you if it was because you kissed me- because again, how the fuck does it make sense that you're mad at ME when you were the one that- anyways besides that, I asked you, and you started crying and shit and then told me you LIKE-liked me." He says, all while fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "That's pretty much it, but imagine that you're full on crying and snotting all over me and in hysterics ya know."

You were silenced. You had terribly fucked up and knew that there was no way you could backtrack. You had complicated feelings about Katsuki and your arrangement for a while, but accepted its fate of ending with you two drifting back to friends as soon as you no longer needed each other's services.

"I really don't want you to freak out about this, okay?" He fills in the silence. "I get it, you were drunk so it's probably some bullshit. Tell me it's not true and we can pretend like it didn't happen."

Your heart ached. You did want this to go away, but at the same time if you don't take this chance to tell him about your feelings, you'll end up having to choke it down until you're forced to get over it in secret.

"Don't hate me." You say. "Please don't hate me."

"Tell me." He quietly says, almost holding his breath.

You shove your face into your hands. "It's so fucking complicated because of the fake relationship stuff. It's all supposed to be for show and to help each other out, but fuck it feels so real sometimes and I constantly remind myself that it's not, but...it feels REAL."

You finally look up at him. You couldn't quite read his expression- it was almost upset? Maybe pained?

"You look mad. Please don't be upset at me. Maybe we shouldn't do this fake dating thing anymore, and I'm sorry because I know we kind of needed each other for it, but I don't think I can stand faking it when it doesn't feel fake anymore."

He lets out a long breath of air. "Fuck okay so... you have feelings for me. Like real feelings outside of whatever this thing is that we're doing.

You cringe. "I have real feelings for you-I like-like you, or whatever the fuck I said last night. And I hate you too for making me go to that party and talking to and touching me like that and letting me cry to you about this just for it to all spill out now."

"Dammit, Y/N" He mutters, rolling off your bed and pacing around the room. "I'm sorry. I didn't expect things to get out of hand like this, and if I knew sooner or caught onto any hints, I would've done something about it earlier."

To say you were devastated was an understatement. You told him you had feelings for him, and he told you he was sorry. You couldn't be surprised. There was a reason why he needed a fake girlfriend so bad. He wasn't that guy to care for superficial things like romance and relationships and just needed to use you as a cover to stop people from bothering him about it, and vice versa.

"Don't be sorry. Really, it's not your fault." You wave off, your expression hardening. "We had an agreement, and I crossed that line. It is what it is."

"So now what? Where does that leave us?" He stops and looks at you.

You couldn't help but scoff. "There's no us, Katsuki. It was all for show. We tell everyone we 'broke up' and move on- that's it. We can go back to being friends, or acquaintances, or whatever the fuck we were before we started doing all this."

He blankly stares at you. You saw the gears turning in his head, his furrowed brows deep in thought made it look like he was trying to solve the most impossible equation, when in reality it was this poor boy's brain trying to process his emotions.

"Fuck, wait, I think I fucked up." He begins, a blush suddenly flooding his cheeks. "When I said I would've done something about it earlier, I meant telling you that..um ditto?" He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

You shoot him a blank stare. "Use your words, Katsuki. What the fuck does that even mean?"

He dramatically groans into his hands. "Fuck!" He starts pacing around once again. "I don't want to stop being with you, okay? And I know that shit is complicated, but I think I want it to work out, but... for real this time."

A beat of silence passes while you process.

"Oh.. so you... like me?" You were appalled.

"Like-like." He confirms.

Here you guys were, two emotionally-constipated people who had just confessed to one another trying to figure out how to go about this situation next.

"And you realized this when?"

"Right now when you were pissing me off and saying that we had to break up." He kneels down on the floor, next to the bed and right beside you.

"You realize that if we start dating for real, you're going to have to be an actual boyfriend? And do boyfriend things? Not just be my fake boyfriend who is only ever in my presence when we're at a function together or with our friends?"

"Is that not what I've already been doing?" He scoffs. "I drive you places, call you pretty, watch movies, cuddle, hold your hand, and everything in between and more?"

You roll your eyes. "But that's always been for show."

"And for my own pleasure." He deadpans. "With or without an audience, I liked doing all of that shit with you."

He suddenly reaches over and grabs your hand, which was no surprise as sweaty as yours. "Hands held, and we're in private. Good start, yeah?"

A smile grows on your face. "You're such a loser."

"Yours."

"Right." You blush. "But don't expect me to give in so easily. You need to take me on dates and stop being mean to me and saying that I laugh like a goose and shit."

"Anything you want, angel face, and I'll give it to you- even with your honking."

-

taglist: @im-lost-please-help @babycheech @cupkiki @html-nae @zz-snow-zz @svnnysidez @v3n7s @lovra974 @yappydoo @canarystwin @liluvtojineteyam @jaxyy219 @aespie @starynigvt @m-0ona @fictonal-men-dum @simp-plague @buggie07 @yendysdys

[bleedingoptimism]

As Steve walks into the grocery store he pulls his sunglasses off, only to put them back on again immediately. The lights of the store make the back of his eyes sting. Hungover from a bad headache, not that people here would care why. Whatever, is not like everyone already doesn’t think he’s an asshole. He doesn’t need to perform for anyone anymore.

A guy, singing to himself down one of the aisles peaks his attention, he’s tall and has long black hair and Steve belatedly remembers that he’s Jon’s friend from California.

“Argyle?” he asks, more to himself than to him, but Argyle turns and smiles at him as if they are old friends. He approaches and grabs his shoulder, shaking him a little.

“Oh! Hi Stevie!” 

The confidence and attitude he carries himself with make Steve smile for some reason. It’s like he’s very sure of himself but in a nice way, not in a douchey way, like his high school buddies were. Although hearing someone call him “Stevie” reminds him of Tommy and a very different time and he can’t help but shrink inwards a little, “Oh no please, just Steve,” he says with an apologetic smile, pulling his sunglasses off again and placing them on his head. And because he doesn’t want Argyle to think he’s the douchebag, he explains further, “‘Stevie’ brings back bad memories,”

Argyle leans his head to the side with a pout but then smiles and squeezes Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, it’s fine, we can just make new ones, man! Better ones.”

Steve’s first reaction is to scoff. As if it were that easy… but then he thinks, hell, maybe it is.  Maybe it is and it makes him smile. Argyle is way too outgoing for it to be comfortable for other people, it’s kind of ridiculous. For a second, he wonders if Jonathan found it jarring when he first met him. But Steve finds it refreshing. He shakes his head and smiles,

“So what were you looking for? Maybe I can help?” he offers.

Argyle turns in a circle, letting go of Steve’s shoulder and opening his arms wide, like he’s presenting the store to Steve, “See man, I'm mentally preparing myself for the munchies. I kind of wanted to make a pizza but like sweet? You get me?”

“Like a pie?” Steve chuckles.

“That! Sounds delicious, dude! But I don’t know how to make a pie,” Argyle laments, and Steve has no idea what possesses him to say,

“I do. You want help?” 

Argyle stills his whole body and then shakes it before he starts snapping his fingers rapidly, startling Steve.

“Ok! Ok ok ok ok ok! Are you busy right now, man?”

“Just need to buy my groceries…” Steve says unable to keep the bewilderment off his expression.

“I’ll help you with that, we’ll buy things for the pie and then you invite me over, how’s that my dude?” Argyle says, no preambles, “I have a doobie and a lot of questions about all the shit that went down” he adds moving his eyebrows up and down quickly.

“What about Jon?” Steve can’t help but ask.

“Ah man, Jonny is with Nancy right now. Those two love birds had a lot to talk about, so I figured I’d make myself scarce.” Argyle answers, nodding apprehensively at his own statement.

Steve finds himself nodding along before saying, “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it!”

“Hell yeah, Stevie!” Argyle exclaims throwing his arms up and this time, Steve doesn’t cringe at the nickname.

After that, Argyle follows Steve through the store, helping him put things in the cart, making a few comments about differences in products or prices from California, but mostly staying out of the way and humming to himself. Steve asks him what he wants the pie to be (strawberries and chocolate) so he gets the ingredients for that too and then they are off.

When they get to his place, Steve tells him to get comfortable while he puts stuff away but Argyle helps him out before sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen and watching as Steve gets all the ingredients for the pie laid out.

“You know dude, you’re kind of exactly how I imagined you’d be,” Argyle tells him, gifting him another one of his smiles. 

“Really?” Steve asks surprised.

“Jon told me all about you, man,” he answers nodding. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at that, “And you still want to hang out with me?” he asks, half judgy, half defensive.

“Of course! Because you know what I got from it, dog?” Argyle asks and Steve just stares at him, afraid to know the answer.

“That you are a good person, Stevie! So you got off to a rocky start dude, so what? I think that makes you all the more interesting.”

Steve purses his lips in an attempt not to smile and raises an eyebrow.

“You went to hell and beyond for someone you didn’t even like! You’ve paid your dues and a half for whatever shit you did when you were younger and it could’ve made you bitter or closed off, man! But it didn’t. Not even the tiniest little bit. You barely know me and you invited me over and offered to bake pie for me, dude!” 

Steve chuckles and shakes his head, “You got all that from what Jon told you? Also you invited yourself over,” he jokes. 

Argyle laughs and then just shrugs, choosing to ignore Steve’s question about Jon.

He lets it go, and Argyle lights up the joint while he starts making the pie. After they both get a few hits, Argyle starts asking him about everything. ‘Start from the beginning’ he says.

Steve starts off a little stiff but gets looser with the weed and Argyle's presence and ends up telling him practically everything. Argyle asks a few questions every once in a while, sometimes about the process of making the pie. Sometimes some really intense shit like ‘and how did that make you feel?’, ‘did you think you were going to die?’ ‘were you scared?’.

Steve answers everything honestly, and it feels incredibly cathartic. His favorite questions are the ones about the pie though, and he smiles the biggest when Argyle says next time he’ll make one for him.

In turn, Steve asks him how he met Jon and chuckles when Argyle confirms his thoughts and tells him Jon didn’t like Argyle one bit at first.

“He said I was too happy. He didn’t trust it. Dude couldn’t trust anyone that hadn’t gone through some kind of shit in their lives” Argyle laughs, “But I can thaw even the coldest of hearts, man! As we got to know each other, he realized that I did have my own shit going on, but that happiness was a choice for me. Is who I had chosen to be.”

They talk about that too, how it wasn’t an easy choice. How some days it’s harder than others, to keep at it. How all the Upside Down shit affected him too.

By the time the pie is done and the joint is gone, Steve feels incredibly close to Argyle. Like they’ve been friends forever. 

“So that’s pretty much it,” he says with a sigh after finishing a rant about why he doesn’t keep in touch with his high school buddies because Argyle had asked about them.

“Dude, you’ve been through so much,” he says solemnly.

“Yeah, you know that’s…. Life…” Steve says, shrugging. He doesn't know exactly what to say, suddenly feeling very awkward at being seen.

“Nah, Stevie. Me being kicked out of my house as soon as I was old enough to get a job ‘cause my parents couldn’t afford to keep feeding me and my younger siblings…. That’s life.” Argyle says seriously and quickly dismisses Steve's worried face adding, “It’s ok dude, they were great parents, they raised me well and I still go visit every other weekend” And then sighs and looks sternly at Steve again,

“Like I said, that’s life. What you’ve been through? Was hell”

“The kids had it worse- Ell-” Steve starts but Argyle interrupts him.

“That doesn’t erase what you've been through, Steve. It doesn’t make it less of a nightmare, man.” Steve just looks at Argyle as what he’s saying sinks in. 

“And you got through it, dude. You came out the other side even a better person than when it started and like- you saved lives! You saved my best friend's life and like- like- you should be proud of yourself Stevie. I’m proud of you, man” he finishes with a carefree smile. As if he hadn’t just rocked the ground Steve was standing on. And he doesn't know if it’s the weed, or Argyle’s words, or both but Steve closes the distance between them and hugs him.

“Oh, hey! Hugs! I love hugs!” Argyle laughs, and hugs him back, taking it all in stride.

“Sorry,” Steve sniffles embarrassed, “I didn’t know I needed to hear that till you said it,” he croaks.

“Nah, it’s good. I got you” Argyle responds, patting his back lightly.

The hug is wonderful, friendly, warm, and just the right length but when he’s stepping away from Argyle, he hears a wary sound from the kitchen door.

“Uhm…hi” 

It’s Eddie. Pocker-faced and cautious and Steve knows him well enough to know he’s freaking out inside.

“Oh, hi! Eddie! Good to see you, dude!” Argyle says good naturally and completely out of the loop. Steve smiles at him too and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand to dry them off a bit.

Whatever Eddie was thinking goes out the window when he looks closely at Steve and walks towards him, leaning closer to look him in the eye, “You okay?” he asks concerned.

Steve nods and Argyle clears his throat, “I’m going to… set the table for three,” he says, so maybe, not as out of the loop as Steve first thought.

Eddie completely ignores Argyle and grabs Steve’s face, his thumb caressing the underside of his eye, “You really ok?” he asks again and Steve chuckles,

“Yeah,” he answers with a smile.

Eddie hums and then looks back towards where Argyle is opening and closing cabinets in the dining room, looking for plates, “So… Should I be jealous?” he asks and Steve snorts amused, 

“Of course not,” he says.

“You sure? ‘Cause maybe your type wasn’t curls and big eyes, maybe it was long hair and weed all along,” Eddie presses and Steve can tell he’s trying to make a joke out of it but is actually asking for real and Steve gets frankly, really annoyed.

“You know what? Maybe you should be jealous. Argy would never accuse me like that,” Inwardly he cringes at the nickname but it gets the point across. Eddie’s face falls and he looks devastated and terrified for a second before Steve smirks bitchily at him and then Eddie is frowning.

“Asshole” he murmurs, despite still holding Steve’s face as if it were precious and fragile.

Steve steps closer, placing his hands on Eddie’s waist, “You started it” he says as an apology. Kind of.

Eddie huffs and moves his hands to Steve shoulder’s, one thumb pressed to his pulse, “I regret it” 

Steve hums, “Just for the record? A little possessiveness is kind of hot,” he says and pecks the tip of Eddie’s nose, “You questioning my feelings for you? Is not.” and then flicks it.

“Dully noted,” Eddie nods.

Steve looks him in the eye as he leans closer, kisses him fully in the mouth firmly, eyes open the whole time, and then whispers “Good boy,” before he steps away.

He smirks again seeing the full-body effect his little stunt has on Eddie. The way his eyelids fall, his mouth opens, the goosebumps on his arm hair, and the shiver that runs through his spine. He takes a moment to take it all in before he smiles, less predatory and more friendly. Eddie smiles back, and shakes his head amused, like he can't believe Steve is real. He does that a lot.

Steve then takes Eddie’s hand on his own and kisses his knuckles before moving past him and dragging him to the dining room with him, 

“Now c’mon. Let’s go eat pie with my new friend”

e͟n͟d͟

a coffee? a doobie? ☕🥐💕

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

*rolls up 15 years late with Avatar the Last Airbender thoughts*

So I've been rewatching clips from the show lately to refresh my memory while I'm writing my Zuko Alone fanfic. And last night I rewatched the clip where Iroh teaches Zuko how to redirect lightning and I have had thoughts about this scene for years so I might as well finally throw them into the void of tumblr.

So, this scene is insane to me, because at the end of learning how he could-hypothetically- redirect lightning, Zuko looks at Iroh and, completely seriously says "okay I'm ready to try it with the real thing now". Like, Zuko, the boy with a massive scar on his face from where his father burned him just looks at his uncle and says, "shoot me with lightning".

And yes, he's 16 and not thinking but that's part of the point because the amount of blind, complete trust Zuko has in Iroh to look at him and say "shoot lightning at me" after the insane trauma he had at the hands of his own father- that is WILD to me. Zuko literally trusts Iroh so much that he just assumes, without even having to think about it, that no matter how volatile and unpredictable the lightning is, Iroh won't hurt him because Zuko cannot fathom his uncle hurting him.

And of course, Iroh's appalled because Zuko's standing there with a massive scar on his face from when his father misused firebending against him and likewise, Iroh cannot fathom hurting Zuko. And since IROH knows how volatile and unpredictable lightning is and how it could literally kill his son nephew he is absolutely NOT going to use it just to let Zuko practice redirecting lightning, but he's so flabbergasted that Zuko would even ask him that that he just kind of splutters angrily that he will ABSOLUTELY NOT shoot lightning at Zuko. (it's also just another layer of how messed up Ozai is because he shot lightning at Zuko without a second thought later)

But I hope Iroh thought about it later and realized the amount of pure, unthinking trust Zuko has in him because ;-; the child didn't even THINK about it. "Okay uncle shoot lightning at me now. I know I'll be safe because it's you." I love them so much 😭😭

[wholoveseggs]

Heyy, you should make an Elijah fic where it’s set where he has his middle part and he falls in love with Elena’s best friend as the reader? With fluff and smut please!!! 🤍🤍

Rules {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

As the little sister of the Salvatores, trouble always finds you. Whether it's from a vampire, werewolf or an original, you are always at the center of it. When the mysterious villain Elijah comes to Mystic Falls, everyone is trying to stop him from hurting Elena. But you? You might be falling in love...

♡♡ Thanks for the request beautiful anon! Middle part Elijah will forever have me in a chokehold && it's about time I write a little bit about the Salvatore brothers...♡♡

2k words - Warnings: this one is just mainly smut, foreplay, secret affair, enemies to lovers, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, reader is a lot like her brother Damon... will this turn into a romeo and juilet tragic romance ? maybee

{Part Two} {Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}

"Rules? I don't recall such things..." You giggled softly, kicking your feet a little, a wide smile on your face.

Laying on your stomach in front of the fireplace at the boarding house, you chatted on the phone with Elijah. You ran your fingers through the soft rug underneath you, biting your lip and waiting for a response from him.

"Hmm, perhaps you just have a very poor memory then," Elijah murmured, you could hear the smile in his voice. It had you grinning like an idiot, and you had to roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling just to calm yourself down. You felt giddy, excited, and so many other emotions that you thought were long dormant in your old age.

"Perhaps..." You murmured, letting out a happy sigh and smiling at the ceiling.

"Let me refresh your memory," Elijah whispered into the phone, his tone calm and deep, as he sat back in the large leather chair in his office. "Rule one, when we are together, it will just be us,"

"And it will be," You assured him, closing your eyes, imagining his voice directly in your ear. "Everyone has gone away for the night,"

"I don't see why we don't just rent a room," He chuckled softly.

"Because," you murmured, feeling shyer by the second. "I want you to see my room, I have some books and art to share with you, there's this painting I hung up the other day that you would love..."

Elijah smiled, looking down and picking at a piece of lint on his pants, unable to deny how much he liked that thought. "I would love to see all the details of what makes you happy,"

You blushed, sitting up on your thighs, the heat of the fireplace warming your back.

"So? Come over?" You asked, hopeful, almost squirming with need.

Elijah knew this was a bad idea, if the Salvatore brothers returned, he would have to deal with their wrath. They were the enemy, but you... You were a weakness, one he couldn't seem to ignore.

"What would I get in return?" He wondered, standing up and moving over to the window.

You grinned, a plan forming. "Anything you want..."

Elijah licked his lips, feeling his heart beat just a bit faster.

"You are dangerous..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Give me an hour,"

You giggled happily, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs behind you. "I'll be waiting,"

With a small hum of confirmation, Elijah ended the call.

You tossed your phone aside and scurried to your room, deciding what to wear. Usually you weren't shy or nervous to hook-up with someone, but with Elijah it was different.

It had been a few weeks, and you had both agreed, the last time would be the only time. But then one thing led to another, a text here, an invitation there, and now you couldn't deny the pull between the two of you.

After showering and shaving and washing, you stood naked in your closet and looked through the clothes. You finally settled on a simple yet expensive lingerie set that hugged your body and pushed up your breasts. Then you slipped into a simple black dress, deciding to keep it casual, since you were planning on being naked for most of the night.

A knock on the door made you grin, and you rushed to the door, your excitement bubbling to the surface.

Elijah stood on the porch, hands tucked in the pockets of his long trench coat, a small smile on his face.

"Hello, Miss Salvatore," He said softly, stepping inside.

You shut the door behind him, pressing your back against it, taking in the man before you.

"Elijah," You purred, grinning like a cat. "Glad you could join me,"

Elijah hummed softly, his eyes roaming your form. You could see the lust in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched.

"You know, the last time we were alone, I believe we agreed this would not happen again," Elijah reminded, taking a step forward, closing the gap between you.

"Hmm, did we?" You murmured, your hand reaching out and running down the front of his suit, feeling the material. You stopped and looked up at him, a grin on your face.

He leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. His hands went to your hips, pulling you flush against him.

You let out a small gasp, a hand going to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

You pulled away, your cheeks a light pink and your breathing heavy. He already had you dizzy, and he had barely done anything.

"How about a tour?" He murmured, a smile on his lips.

"Sure," You nodded, pulling him towards the stairs, a giddy smile on your face.

He followed along, not paying attention to the art and paintings on the walls, instead he was watching you, the way your hips swayed with every step, and the smile on your face as you brought him closer and closer to your bedroom.

As soon as you stepped through the door, Elijah's hands were on your waist, his lips kissing along your neck and shoulders. He kicked the door close, and started pushing you further into the room.

You stumbled a little, giggling and holding onto his arm, letting him push you towards the bed. You spun around and faced him, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. You ran your hands up his chest and to his tie, unknotting it and throwing it on the ground. You worked on his jacket next, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms, leaving him in his white shirt.

"Mm, you're rushing," Elijah teased, nipping at your bottom lip, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"No, no, you're just too slow," You shot back, ripping open his shirt, the buttons flying across the room.

Elijah looked down at his torn shirt, and then up at you, his lips curled into a smirk. "Careful,"

"Or what?" You teased, running your fingers through his hair, a playful glint in your eyes.

Elijah pushed you backwards, and you fell onto the bed, letting out a laugh as he crawled up your body, his mouth attaching to your neck, sucking and biting, making you moan.

"Greedy little vampire, aren't you?" He murmured against your skin, his hands running up your thighs, slowly pushing your dress up.

"Hmm, for you," You purred, tugging at his belt, getting frustrated when you couldn't get it undone.

Elijah chuckled, sitting up and working his belt free, a cocky smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes, and wiggled your way out of your dress, tossing it onto the ground, leaving you in nothing but the black lace lingerie.

"My, my," Elijah said slowly, his eyes drinking in the sight before him. "You look stunning,"

You bit your lip, a small smile on your face as he climbed back on top of you, his hands running up your sides.

"This was an excellent choice," He murmured, running his fingers over the lace. "Maybe I should rip it off, make it match my shirt,"

"Don't you dare," You warned, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his mouth to yours.

Your hand rested against his stomach, and you let it wander up his chest. You could feel his strength as he held himself over you, the muscles of his arms flexing, his chest rising and falling.

His hair fell into his face, framing his cheekbones, his intense gaze fixed on you. You blushed and tucked his hair behind his ear, running your finger along his sharp jaw.

"You're so handsome," You breathed, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them.

Elijah chuckled, his breath hot against your skin.

"And you're breathtaking," He murmured, before ripping off your lingerie, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

"I told you not to do that," You gasped, though you weren't really angry, your blood was already rushing south.

He grinned, his fingers trailing up your leg, teasing your core. You spread your legs wider, and he eased a finger inside you, chuckling as your annoyed expression melted into pleasure. He watched you like this, lips parted, panting softly. Then he added second finger, then a third, until he was fucking you with three fingers, the palm of his hand brushing against your clit.

"Elijah," You moaned, tugging him down, kissing him roughly.

Elijah smirked against your lips, and curled his fingers, finding that sweet spot that had you seeing stars.

"Fuck," You moaned, arching off the bed, your eyes screwed shut.

"That's it," He encouraged, his eyes dark with lust as he watched you, his fingers picking up speed, curling and twisting inside you.

"I can't..." You whined, squirming and grabbing his wrist.

"But you can," He mumbled, kissing you deeply. You moaned into the kiss as he moved his hand faster. The tension was so delicious and intoxicating, but before you could reach your release, Elijah was pulling his hand back.

You were so lost in pleasure you didn't hear the sound of the front door opening, or the noise of Stefan and Damon entering the house.

But Elijah did. He froze, his ears trained on the footsteps of the Salvatore brothers. He cursed under his breath, and turned to look down at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

You frowned at the lack of contact, and pouted, looking up at him, confused. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off with a kiss.

Then you heard them.

In a flash Elijah was gone, all that was left of his touch was your scattered breathing and lust filled eyes.

You heard the sound of your brother's footsteps coming up the stairs and pulled a blanket over yourself. A moment later Damon and Stefan walked in the doorway.

"What do you want?" You muttered, looking grumpy, and trying to sound like you were angry at being interrupted from a good sleep.

"Just checking in," Stefan smiled, before noticing how disheveled your hair was, the blush in your cheeks, and the fact that you were wrapped in a blanket and nothing else.

"Have you been here all night?" Damon asked, looking concerned.

"Yes," You snapped, sitting up and pulling the blankets tighter around you. "I was tired and fell asleep reading,"

Stefan and Damon shared a look, neither looked like they were buying your story.

"We'll let you rest," Stefan nodded, heading for the door, giving you a suspicious look.

"Yeah, go back to sleep, we'll be downstairs," Damon murmured, shooting you a knowing look, before following his brother out the door, shutting it behind him.

Once they were gone, you collapsed back against the pillows, letting out a breath.

You could still feel Elijah's lips on yours, still smell his cologne, still taste him on your tongue. You closed your eyes, a smile spreading across your face.

It was in that moment, that you knew you were absolutely, undeniably, hopelessly, in love with Elijah.

And, without a doubt, completely and utterly fucked.

{Part Two} {Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}

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@li-da-savage

[lorelune]

(continuation of this piece. part ii of regency au with jing yuan)

"he needs to stop doing this."

you tell lord luocha this as you stumble out of your one room cottage, desperately attempting to smooth down your day gown. your palms shake as you do and you shoot your patron an angry look.

lord luocha looks perfectly passive, painfully neutral with a hint of mirth. the bastard. "i think it's quite appropriate for the general to call upon you this hour of the day. i thought you would be prepared."

"i am not an 'eligible lady' as i am so often reminded," you shake your head. "i cannot constantly be ready to take his company, just because it's before supper. be reasonable, my lord. speak with him about this."

"perhaps," luocha tilts his head with the barest hint of a smile. "i'll consider it. for now, why don't you go greet our guest? i'll have some refreshments sent in."

"fine." you say. your voice wavers.

this is not the first time the retired general, Jing Yuan, has called upon you. it's more like the fifth. maybe sixth. it is more frightening to keep count of his increasingly frequently visits (as they clearly indicate some type of explicit interest), so you stopped counting them recently. peace of mind and all.

you enter the drawing with and bow to the general without thinking, "good afternoon, general."

"likewise," he says easily, voice so deep and rich; it makes your insides feel wobbly.

jing yuan sits on one of the loveseats, legs tastefully spread and in some amount of regalia. well-dressed, certainly. his hair is half-tied up as he so favors, and his face has a healthy amount of blush. a crisp jaw. bulging forearms and thighs beneath his various dressings. a broad chest. it is hard not to ogle him overtly. you train your gaze on the hand-tufted rug before rising and daintily (as you can) sit across from him on the other side of the loveseat. you tuck your legs to the side, barely remembering to not fully fold them under yourself. decorum and all.

(it feels foolish. jing yuan hardly seem to care. lord luocha thinks your bumbling is amusing.)

"i apologize for the intrusion," he says. he squeezes his hands into loose fists. you don't miss the action. "will you indulge me for a time?"

"i'm already here, aren't i?" you quip back, tone light. easy. "i don't mind the company."

there's more you could say—

("general, i think you are so very kind and thoughtful. thank you for spending your spare time with me.")

("general, i am sorry i can't attend any of the balls and festivities as anything more than a performer. i would not mind being on your arm, if circumstances were different, and you desired it so".)

("general, how much longer will you entertain this? are you intending to steal my heart, only to break it?"

instead, you remain quiet, picking at your nailbeds. jing yuan watches you with a hum. flexes his hands.

"are you working on any new pieces?" he asks.

"a few, actually." you reply. "the muses have been kind to me."

"oh?" he smiles. he tilts his head cutely, almost boyish, despite his age. "may i ask the subject matter?"

"ah—" you feel your face heat. "a number of things. subject matters. a varying themes."

truthfully, you have started four new paintings in the last week. all of which were started in moments of such deep inspirations, they had you painting and laying base colors from sunrise until sunset. it just so happens that these... works have. a clear theme. that of the general.

(during his second visit, he commented on the blooming azaleas. you've been obsessed with perfecting the shape of their petals. his third visit, you sat on the same seat as him. you were so much closer then, and found yourself lost in the honey color of his eyes. the punch of purple underneath them, an accumulation of sleepless nights. another is of a lion, like that of his crest. the final is a portrait of him that has you committing every bit of him to memory. perhaps you'll be able to capture his likeness with your memory if the muses continue to favor you.)

"you're quite the varied artist." he leans his jaw on his fist. "your dedication to your craft is most admirable."

"i cannot help the ways in which inspiration forces me to act," or, to thirst over the man in front of you. god forbid a parched man be given drink so fine. you shake your head. "i have had... some amount of increased, enjoyable, new interactions over the past while. i suppose i'm feeling invigored."

"oh?" jing yuan looks smitten. his eyes go half-lidded. "may i guess the source of your inspiration?"

"if you do, you'll only embarrass me."

"so, you think i will be right in my guess then?"

"i know so." you roll your eyes, sheepish. "i am not foolish enough to think i could hide face and play games with the Divine Foresight and win."

"you underestimate yourself."

"hardly. have you... met yourself, general?"

"often, frequently." he nods to himself. he catches your gaze. it's piercing. "i find myself in the mirror, often, these days. i tell myself that i am spry enough and have retained enough charm through my years to properly court and woo the recluse, genius artist i have been stealing time from. i meet the man in my mirror and think that he is quite clever, but tends to underestimate you as well."

your breath is caught in your chest. you scrunch the skirt of your dress up in your palms and swallow.

"the general speaks freely and foolishly."

"and yet, i do not lie."

"... you are brazen."

"do you not require such treatment?" jing yuan laughs sweetly. "if i were any more gentle with you, you would've already retreated far into your lord's gardens. i wouldn't hope to see you again. you will need to forgive me for my shamelessness."

"... i could perhaps be convinced." you scoot closer on the love seat. you should. create space away from him. before you do something stupid and unbecoming. but you find yourself drawn closer. "the general is a kind man. good-hearted."

"such a charitable assessment."

"i know it to be true." you do know. the man keeps his own gardens, tends them himself. he pays his servants good wages and left war and bloodshed behind sometime ago. "i would like to get to know his good heart more."

jing yuan steels himself then. you watch it happen. his spine straightens, his throat bobs. sweat beads at his temples, you now notice. his keeps his hands in his lap, wringing them together.

"then we are in agreement?"

"... only if the general treats me well." you stumble over your words. "only if you treat me well, general."

"jing yuan, please."

"fine. jing yuan, then." it takes everything in you not to reach for his hands. your last threads of civility barely remaining. "will you treat me well, jing yuan?"

he breathes. you feel the warm exhale of it fan over your cheeks. your gaze drops to the softness of his bottom lip.

"only the best, for you."

"so, you're smitten with me?"

"simply struck." he gulps. you need him, you decide, decorum be damned. you lean forward, just as he does. you can hear the tremor of your breath in time with his—

the door the drawing room opens, suddenly, with a resounding thud. you jump away from the general, a hand over your heart. you attempt to not noticeably pant, though you perhaps fail. lord luocha raises a knowing eyebrow as a few of his staff bring in a platter of a small treats and bubbly drinks in fluted glasses.

"forgive the intrusion," luocha places a hand on jing yuan's shoulder. the general straightens up. "i figured that you two must be in need some of refreshments. may i suggest a walk in the garden, later? perhaps, you could show him your herb patches, [name]."

lord luocha shoots you a knowing look.

(said patch of herbs is just outside of your cottage. a good distance away from the main estate.)

"i'd love to." you swallow and shake your head. "if the general will deign to spend a bit more time with me."

jing yuan looks at you, really looks at you, and smiles. it is an honest, genuine thing. you are glad luocha is at his back, so only you can see the earnest of it. it is something special, you think, just for you.

"as much as you will allow me."

and you will give him as much as you can muster.

[unstable-samurai]

Until You're Mine (Jealous Girlfriend) - smut

Momo x Male Reader

Word Count: 4k

Tags: toxic relationship, jealous girlfriend, non-linear story, possessive girlfriend, first sex, penetration, boobjob, facial

She was awake when he arrived. She heard the door latch turn twice as it was unlocked. There were always two turns, fast and firm. Y/N saw her lying on the couch, watching another animated movie. It was the kind of movie she looked for when she really needed to be distracted, her escape valve or something, so seeing her there in front of the TV close to midnight (it was much later than that, but he had no idea), turned on an emergency light in his mind.

Normally he was the owl of that house.

“Hey baby, why’re you still awake?” he asked. “I said you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“I just felt like watching a Studio Ghibli film. Only that.” She explained without looking at him.

No fucking way it was just that. She was frowning. One of those moments where Momo turned into a bomb and it was up to Y/N to disarm it without it exploding. The problem was that this was an impossible task to do, any wire he cut would result in an explosion. And that was the last thing he wanted. His head was already a battlefield in itself. That damn company party had exhausted his social battery, which wasn’t much anyway. Y/N didn’t have the courage to provoke an aerial bombardment that night.

He sat on the left end of the sofa, Momo didn't mind moving his legs so he could have more space.

"OK. Is the film already close to the end? I can watch it with you.”

“Did you have fun there?” she asked.

"Yes. Was cool."

“You’re watching the movie, I don’t want to disturb you. In the morning I’ll tell you everything.”

"Just that?

"Yes..."

"No details?" she questioned him quite insistently.

Y/N had his head focused on the bath he was going to take in a while and how he was going to sink his head into the pillow. No more plastic masks, fake laughs, shallow people, please.

She paused the movie.

“What a ridiculous excuse. It sounds like you were trying to hide the things that happened at the party.”

“No, it doesn’t sound…” He was almost sure of it.

“Yes it does, you bastard.”

“It wasn’t even a party. We were all among work colleagues.”

“I've been to enough parties to know that it was YES a party. Loud music, drinks, pool, snacks. The complete package.”

“It’s a damn modern company, okay? They please the employees and pretend to be cool so that we forget the slavery we are subjected to on a daily basis. You kids had fun on Saturday and you’ll work overtime on Monday, okay?”

“Wait, I made a mistake. In fact: VIP package. They even hired prostitutes. Five star service.”

“Are you high or what?”

He was too tired to read the signs.

“I saw the way she kept touching you. The giggles... As if you were the funniest clown on the planet and she was a fucking hyena.”

Y/N abruptly stood up from the couch. He had finally understood everything. The last spark of his neurons, probably.

“There were no prostitutes. And I wasn't chatting up with any girls.”

"Oh, really?" She stood up too. “Let me refresh your memory, dear: short black hair, horse smile, lilac dress, can't stand alone unless she's supported by a man, small tits... Seriously, I don't know why she decided to wear that dress with cleavage if there was nothing there to show. Someone should tell her the truth. So, does this remind you of anyone, my love?”

The fucking bomb exploded in his hand.

“That was Rachel, a friend from work. How the hell did you know what was going on at the party?”

Momo laughed sadistically. Her wickedly beautiful eyes looked at him with intensity as she asked:

“Are you afraid?”

"No. I didn't do anything wrong to get scared. Did someone record me at the party?”

"Yes. And it wasn't just that. I also watch the stories of those who were at the party and you appeared in some of them in the corners. I saw everything.”

‡

Here's a little overview of this relationship: A year and a half of dating. They met through mutual friends and the first deep contact was delayed, but when it happened it ended up becoming a path of no return. Y/N avoided her as much as he could, not in a way that would be noticeable and make him seem rude. But we were talking about an incredibly beautiful woman, aware of her attractiveness and unfettered by modesty. She was with a group of eight other beautiful and popular girls. Yes, she was elite. High caliber, my friend. Well, he was... quiet, an avid reader, calm and sometimes melancholic, but he loved being with his friends and enjoying them on the weekends, respecting his limits, of course. When he saw Momo for the first time he cowardly ignored her. She looks stunning in front of his eyes, wearing a short denim skirt, a baby tee that leaves her sculpted abs on display and her hair flowing in the wind as she dances. There was no way to predict that the plan would backfire; by not noticing her, Y/N became one of the few guys who didn't try to flirt with her. Apathetic guy, but handsome enough to take risks, the little boy who only swims in the shallow end, a plastic armor he forced himself to wear.

The reason? Momo didn't know, but she wanted to find out.

On one of the many night outs where they bumped into each other, Momo skillfully simulated an intimacy that clearly didn't exist between them, talking to Y/N closely, fake accidental touches, and killer eye contact. Abruptly, intimacy between them was forged and evolved in a short space of time. After a while it was no longer strange when they were among friends and Momo sat on his lap, or when she felt tired and rested her head on his shoulder. And Y/N could play hard to get, but he loved the attention he got from Momo, the controversial “bad bitch” (as some girls who didn't like Momo called her), the most attractive girl he knew was always glued to him, and the sexual chemistry that grew over time intoxicated his ego. Being with her made him feel good and more confident and also… shit, she was more than a superficial person or 'just another one of those teasing girls' like a lot of guys used to think. She had a unique way, attitude and things to say too.

‡

“Were you acting like a stalker all night? Seriously, watching stories of other people trying to see me from the corners is a fucking weird thing.”

“And you've been acting like you don't have a girlfriend all night? I almost called Jihyo to drive me to this party to say a few things to that bitch. But I’m not that kind of girlfriend.”

“What is the reason we are arguing? This shit doesn't make sense. I'm exhausted..."

“Have you forgotten your promise? You told me you would arrive early...”

“I didn’t look at the time when I was there. I thought it was still early when I was leaving the party.”

A cynical laugh escaped Momo's mouth.

“You didn't even bother to look at your fucking cellphone to check the time. What is your problem?"

Y/N sighed. He should have already known that going to this party wouldn't be a good idea.

“You know I only went to the party to establish some contacts with the other branch. The damn job forces me to maintain a good relationship with everyone.”

"Poor boy! Does it also force you to talk to sluts?”

"This again?!”

“A little bird told me you were too close to each other on the couch.”

“Who was this damn person?”

“Why blow the heroine’s cover? Maybe she’ll be there again at the next parties.”

“Would you like it if I hired someone to follow you around?”

"Go ahead. I have nothing to hide, because I have consideration and respect for you, asshole!”

“According to you, I cheated you just by sitting on a couch talking to a co-worker. A colleague who can help me move up in the company as she has just been promoted.”

“Apparently it’s not just at work where she likes to be promoted.”

"What do you want from me?" he asked, feeling defeated.

"You know what I want."

“Honestly, I don't know. God must be punishing me for some sin I committed, that’s the only explanation.”

“Make me your girlfriend or your tormentor. You decide." She took a step forward. “You know I could be with anyone. But I'm with you ‘cause I love you, idiot.”

If only there wasn't something genuine about it all.

‡

Being alone with her knocking down topic after topic like dominoes was so fucking enjoyable, the way she laughed, the way she listened to him (Momo didn't interrupt him even during the long pauses he took when he needed to organize his line of reasoning, a mere peculiarity of his but which never went under her radar), the way she could be incredibly silly at times and, even without sharing many common interests, Momo liked having him explain things that were previously uninteresting to her. This attention he received was blinding and addictive. Growing up in a harmful and neglectful home, neediness was his compass and his weakness. But he never showed signs. Y/N was good at disguising it... He thought so.

Their first sex was an unforgettable moment, a path of no return, in the same way that a criminal remembers the moment of the crime that sentenced him to prison. It occurred when they were on a camping trip, good friends gathered, each to their own tent, campfire, marshmallows, snacks, stupid horror stories, and wine. One of the few moments where he felt slightly intimidated around her, as he felt Momo watching him like a predator, and after each glass of wine she became more and more intoxicated, grabbing Y/N from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “It’s very cold here” she whispered in his ear. And Y/N couldn't tell if it was the wind or Momo's velvety voice so close to him that made him shiver.

The hours passed incredibly quickly, eventually everyone retreated to their tents, and eventually there was a slow cessation of the noises of people, finally leaving only the cold whistle of the wind, the rustle of leaves in the trees that surrounded the hill where they were camped and the symphony of insects orchestrated by crickets and cicadas.

He heard sneaky footsteps. It was certainly someone who needed to take a piss and didn't want to wake the others. But the footsteps got louder and louder until he noticed that someone was actually coming to his tent, stopping in front of the entrance. The flash on his cell phone was on (he was reading a book and the damn camp lamp was emitting a horrible orange light), so he pointed the light at the entrance of the tent and saw a very familiar silhouette.

“It’s me, Momo. Let me in!" she whispered. "Quickly!"

Y/N lowered the zipper, opening the way for her.

“What are you doing up?” he asked.

“I was sleepless so I decided to come and check on you.”

"I am well thanks."

She was wearing comfortable clothes. Striped pajama pants, a sweatshirt that was too big on her and her hair loose and messy. Y/N noticed that Momo had removed her makeup. It was the first time he had seen her like that.

"What are you reading?" Momo asked as she sat down.

“Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller.”

"Cool! What is it about?!"

How the hell was he going to explain this?

“About a guy living in Paris.”

"It seems good. Read a chapter to me.”

"How old are you?"

“Don’t be annoying. Let's do it like this: I point the cell phone's flash at the book and you hold it while you read to me. This way we can read lying down.”

Hard to refuse, hard to say 'no' to her.

‡

“You know I love you too, Momori.” he said

Momo was wearing his long-sleeved shirt, she loved that shirt and, truth be told, it looked incredibly good on her. The legs so sensually exposed... Was that still a discussion?

“Sometimes you make me doubt this love, baby. Do you like making me look crazy? I swear to God you love seeing me jealous. When I get like this, does it make you horny?”

“No” he lied to one of the questions.

“You know how I am, Y/N.” One more step forward. She could touch him if she wanted. “And I only ask one thing: don’t talk to other girls. We establish a limit and then cross it, what is the purpose?”

Now closer he could smell her, her body that was warmed by the blanket. Nipples hardened through the fabric of her clothing.

“You look so beautiful...” he blurted out of her mouth.

“But I don’t think I’m beautiful enough for you since you try to be with other girls when I’m not around.”

"Is not true. I only have eyes for you, Momori.”

With a decisive gesture she grabbed Y/N by the collar of his social shirt. A noise escaped his mouth. Slowly she ordered:

“Say you are mine. Say you belong to me.”

‡

He felt her head moving on his chest, he thought she was just looking for a comfortable position, until he was surprised by a kiss on the neck. And another one. And another, and they were getting more and more intense.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he lowered the book, the air escaping from her mouth.

“This book is really interesting and even put me in the mood to do something more fun.”

"What are you talking about?"

He had his hands pressed into Momo's arms, but he made no real effort to push her away.

“I know what you think about me. I know what you want from me. Don’t try to hide it now.” Her voice breathy and wavering. “I want to fuck you so bad, fuck!”

"Here?"

"Now!”

Y/N turned Momo around, placing her back on the floor and then getting on top of her.

“Momo…” His head was a hurricane. Was this really happening? “I've imagined the two of us doing this, but I never thought it could actually happen.”

There was a pause that was filled by a kiss.

“I don’t think you know how hot you are. Other girls were also eyeing you, so I decided to act quickly.”

Y/N lifted Momo's sweatshirt, and was able to appreciate and touch her abs for the first time. Kissing her abdomen was like an achievement, she knew how beautiful it was, that's why she never made a point of hiding it. The soft, slightly sweaty skin met his lips in a mix of sensations.

He lifted her sweatshirt a little more, exposing her juicy boobs. They were big, he knew that, but the first glimpse paralyzed him for an instant, he was amazed, and his hand filled with desire wasted no time in grabbing one of the tits while his mouth sucked the other..

“Oh, Y/N” she moaned.

The cell phone's flashlight went out as they rolled from side to side in the camping tent. Surrounded by the weak orange light of the camp lantern, the senses now seemed more heightened, the touches more intense and brazen, the breathing more labored and an uncontrollable lust, noticeable in several ways, such as Momo's pussy that wet his fingers when he touched her down there.

‡

“I belong to you” he declared. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I am only yours, Momori.”

She smiled satisfied.

"Sit down!" she exclaimed harshly, and pushed him onto the couch. Momo certainly knew how to impose herself when she wanted, the mechanism of submitting him to her will through horny never failed. Sitting on his lap, she said: “You like to make me suffer, you know that? You like having your girlfriend mad so she can have hard sex with you and get you back on track. So depraved, baby!”

It was partly true, although he wasn't consciously acting to make her jealous. The problem was that this wasn't a difficult task, the girl was possessive as hell, so the options fluctuated between becoming a puppy on a leash or floating on the waves of a tide that could occasionally get... Aggressive.

"Do not say that. I don’t like making you feel bad.”

Momo kissed him, she felt Y/N getting excited down there.

“And yet you hurt me.”

He couldn't refute it, so her tongue had another use; warm and wet, she played with Momo's tongue. She sighed when he lightly bit her lower lip, slowly removing the pressure, enjoying her taste like a professional taster.

“It was never my intention,” he said. “Your jealousy is sick.”

“Living with you is hell, you know that?” she revealed. “But you always make me feel so surrendered." Momo slowly touched her nose to Y/N's. She whispered: "It’s a fucking hell, baby.”

Instead of responding, he decided to dedicate a series of kisses to her neck. Momo loved it, it was her weakness. She smiled while letting out small moans of satisfaction.

Momo stroked his dick and under the fabric of his underwear and pants he was already completely hard, waiting for her. She rubbed her hand on his dick eagerly while he felt her breasts and left hickey marks on her neck.

“Oh baby, I want your cock in my pussy so bad!”

‡

He covered her mouth with his hand while he penetrated her deeply. The friends' camping tents were close to Y/N's, and Momo was moaning loudly, so it wouldn't be difficult to hear her in the silence of the night.

“Shhh! You can’t make noise like that!” he said breathlessly.

“It’s fucking hard. Your dick is really big.”

At one point she crossed her legs around Y/N's waist and he could feel her pussy getting tighter and wetter. Immediately Y/N laid his body under hers, penetrating her with force, feeling her pussy swallow his cock eager for pleasure. She moaned loudly, Y/N sucked on her tongue in an attempt to suppress some of the noise, Momo's eyes rolling back in pleasure as her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, as if she could never have him inside enough. Each thrust was an explosion of raw sensation, her insides wetting his cock urgently as he fucked her with wild love, each movement driven by desire that had been postponed for too long.

“Lie on your side!” Y/N asked.

He watched her with burning lust, his eyes fixed on her pert ass, eager to possess her in a different way. With one quick movement, he positioned himself behind her, his cock pulsing with anticipation as he slid in, feeling enveloped by the warm wetness of her wet pussy. He gripped Momo tightly, his hands marking her skin as he fucked her sideways, each thrust sending waves of electric pleasure throughout her body. Momo's moans filled the air, soft and sweet, mixing with the sounds of the wet friction his dick made as it slid inside her. All the touches, the intimate conversations, the looks that met and lost each other when they were in the circle of friends, the jealousy they hid from each other when one of them was talking to someone else, all these things led them to this moment , and now they assumed this feeling… making love.

Momo showed some of her talent when she rode his dick with her back to him, Y/N's body rippling with desire as she rode him with full force. Her hips moved with an erotic cadence, his cock disappearing inside her with each thrust as if he were plunging into a warm ocean. He squeezed Momo's fat ass, guiding her movements as she gave herself over to the frenzy of sex, her moans intensifying with each thrust – fuck if anyone would hear. The tension between them was palpable, the air in the tent stifling as they neared their climax. And then, finally, Momo squirted, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm, as Y/N watched her in wonder in the light of the camp lantern, her silhouette writhing with pleasure, so perfect, so sensual that he could fill her of cum at that moment.

Something he didn't do.

Things happened so fast that Y/N didn't have time to put on a condom. Well, truth be told, he DID NOT have a condom in his tent (not the kind of thing you think about taking on a camping trip with friends when you're a single guy).

“Cum for me, baby” she asked, her voice full of lust. “Where do you want to cum?”

“On your tits.”

It was one of Y/N's fantasies, it usually came to his mind when he saw Momo with cleavage. Now it all seemed so intentional...

Y/N stood on top of Momo, his desire burning so strong he could barely think straight. With shaking hands, he grabbed Momo's massive boobs, feeling his hard-on grow as he squeezed them tightly. Y/N wanted to feel every inch of that soft flesh surrounding his thick cock, he wanted to sink into that delicious sensation until he lost his mind. And then, without further hesitation, he began to move frantically, sliding his hard cock between Momo's breasts with great desire. Loud moans echoed through the tent as he gave in to the pleasure of that sensation, losing himself in the sensation of heat and pressure.

“You gonna cum for me, huh?” she asked between moans, making a point of maintaining latent eye contact while smiling naughty.

“Yeah, I'm gonna cum for you, baby! You're gonna make me cum, Momo.”

“please please, cum for me!! Yeah! Cum for your naughty babygirl...” she begged, hot as fuck, while biting her lower lip like a horny bitch.

And when Y/N finally reached the edge he let out a primal groan, his orgasm exploding in a hot shot over Momo's boobs and face. She looked so beautiful like that in the light of the camp lamp. Y/N brushed her face with his dick, making a nice mess on that adorable little face, and she smiled while this happened, Momo smiled until he finished his art, she finished the job by licking what was left on the head of his dick.

Uninhibited from any shyness, thanks to the endorphins his brain had released, he smiled at her, finding her the most beautiful woman in the world, and into Momo's precious eyes, Y/N confessed: 'I wanna love you.’

‡

It's common to look for culprits in a dysfunctional relationship, who manipulates who, the prisoner and the jailer and all that old story. It's hard to admit that sometimes there is a dark pleasure in predicting events, returning to the same place that is your refuge and your sentence. Most people shoot at "emotional dependence", but few dare to target "connivance". Y/N felt like he was part of the second option. Repeat the fucking pattern, see the wheel spin in the same direction, the same trip as before. It's your pit of lies and acceptance, man, you smell the stench and yet you insist on moving forward, it's not much different than a dog licking its own vomit. At the end of the day, no one will tell you that you deserve better.

If you really deserve it.

"I remember what you said to me that night in the camping tent." She whispered, lying under his chest. "When we had sex for the first time. 'I wanna love you'. That's what you said. Your voice was so sweet and calm. I think that's when I realized that my feelings for you were really special."

The two were snuggled in bed, protected from the cold by the blankets, completely naked after having sex. This was always how fights ended, and the question that arose was: what's the next thing, now? An apology? Unfounded promises about how to improve as a person? Affectionate words to dissolve what was said during the fight? It was a mystery box.

"Those were the words? I honestly don't remember the exact words clearly."

"That's exactly what you told me. I slept with you in the camping tent feeling very happy."

"I was happy to be with you too."

"But at that time I didn't realize that you were actually still trying to fall in love with me. You wanted to love me, but you didn't really love me yet."

"I was a little confused at that time."

"What now? Are you still trying to love me?"

"I love you, Momori. but at the same time... I don't think we work together.”

"We agreed to it then. And honestly, does it matter?"

"I don't know. I feel like it doesn't matter anymore."

"Yeah! And look, we're not the only couple to go through problems like this. We're not alone in this, baby. Forget that Hollywood bullshit about perfect couples. It's not real. It's okay for me to stay like this, as long as we stay together."

"We always fix things."

"Making love is a great way to solve problems. That's our formula."

"Come here, my love" he said.

A/N: sorry for any grammar errors 🖖

[deadsetobsessions]

This is based off of that one tiktok from @sorruna where it’s the audio from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse.

——

Dick Grayson was a sneaky, intelligent little shit.

He was also dumb. These things are not mutually exclusive.

To this day, one of his best kept secrets- one of the many, many that he had now- was something he’d take to his grave.

Or to Jason’s grave, at least.

Dick sat down and began telling the story to ears that would never truly hear it.

——

Batman’s voice rumbled behind him as Dick, in his Robin suit, stood blankly on top of a roof.

“I know you snuck out last night, Robin.”

Dick froze, train of thought about his dinner derailed. Holy busted, Batman! Quick! Play dumb!

“Who’s Robin?” He asked, the years of performing in front of a large crowd coming to save his ass.

Not that dumb!

Batman sent him a dry look, reprimand already poised on his lips. Dick, however, was nothing but a good performer. Nay, a dedicated performer.

Quick! Do something out of character! He shouted at himself, panicking visibly. He stepped backwards, an idea appearing in his head. In his defense, it sounded like an amazing idea at the time. He had no idea it would blow up into a Justice League issue. If he had known… Dick would have lied better, probably. There was no way he was going to let B bench him for weeks!

“Who the fuck are you?!” He yelped. Dick apologized mentally to Alfred and his parents. Batman paused, stunned.

“That’s my question. Who are you?!” Bruce asked, immediately hostile. His son doesn’t curse. Well, not in any normal way anyways. Dick quickly backpedaled by yelling at him with a heavy Vlax dialect, missing his parents terribly as he screamed stranger danger in rudimentary Romany. After this, he was going to have to convince Bruce to get him a language tutor. He refused to forget one of the only ties he had left to his parents.

“Wait, wait- you’re my son.” Bruce replied back, in perfect Romany. He looked more convinced but still skeptical.

“My dad is a circus performer! Not a flying rat!” Dick screeched back. He couldn’t help but feel touched about Bruce seeing him like a son.

“Oy! Keep it down out there, you assholes! Some of us like our sleep, damn!” A random Gothamite screamed out of their window.

“Yo, shut the fuck up! The vigilantes are helping to keep the rent low, motherfucker!” Another Gothamite shouted back.

….

Needless to say, Bruce quickly brought Dick back to the cave- with precautions to make sure he didn’t figure out where the Cave was if Dick was actually someone else.

——

“You would have loved it, Little Wing. B was running around like a headless chicken. The memory loss protocol was actually made because of me, you know.” Dick chuckled, sniffling as he talked to the carved gravestone.

It did not reply.

——

The blood tests came back. Yeppers, Dick sarcastically thought, who woulda thought I’m me?

Reinforcements were called in.

Meaning, Batgirl.

“Watch him while I contact Justice League Dark.”

“You think it’s magic?” Barbara asked.

“Yes. There was no one else near our vicinity that could affect Dick like this. He has no head wounds.”

“Eesh. Okay, go. I’ll watch him.”

Bruce disappeared in his zeta tube, looking harried. So, to everyone that’s not a Bat, he looked absolutely terrifying.

“What did you get yourself into now, Boy Wonder?” Barbara sighed. Dick was careful to keep any signs of recognition out of his face.

“Stop calling me that! Where are my parents?!” He asked back. Barbara coughed and looked uncomfortably away.

That’s right, Babs. I’m pulling out the orphan card. Feel bad. Dick hid his feral grin.

“They’re… uh, busy.” Busy being dead, Barbara thought, immediately wincing at her own thoughts. Apparently, Dick thought the excuse was lame too, and he sent her an incredulous look.

“Would you like refreshments, Master Dick?”

“What?”

Alfred held out some cookies on a platter, giving Babs a quelling look as she tried to reach for his share.

“Oh, wow, these are really good!” Dick said as he shoveled cookies into his mouth. He tried to replicate the reaction he had when he tried these for the first time, and from Alfred’s satisfied look, Dick nailed it.

——

“Robin doesn’t remember who he is.” Batman rumbled as he all but dragged Zatanna and Constantine by the scuff of their jackets towards the zeta tubes.

“Hey, wait-”

“We have no time.” Batman snarled, tossing the two magic users into the zeta. He punched in the destination.

When they got there, he glared at the two magic users until they got into the cave.

“Damn, Bats. Really living up to your name, huh?”

“Not bad,” Zatanna said as she looked around.

“Robin,” Batman- Bruce- reminded them. He did a quick glance over to check on his kids, and found them satisfactorily uninjured. Though, Barbara was looking worse for wear. Bruce quickly found out why as she stalked to him.

“You deal with him.” She muttered. “I’m going home.”

Bruce blinked and nodded. “Get home safe.”

Zatanna and Constantine followed Batman as he walked towards Robin. It was odd to see the normally laughing child frown.

“It’s you! The kidnapper! Where are my parents?!”

Bruce winced which, for him, was akin to a full body flinch and recoil. No wonder Barbara was so tired.

“Fix it.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Batsy.” Constantine grumbled.

“Well help, Batman. Though… I’m not sure if he should be doing that.”

Bruce sharply turned his head back to where Dick was. Emphasis on was. Because now, he’s halfway up the giant dinosaur the Robin had insisted they keep.

“Robin, get down from there!”

“Stranger Danger!” Dick hollered back.

Batman- Bruce Wayne- sighed.

“That’s high level magic,” Zatanna hummed. “I can’t feel anything, but I know for sure that he won’t die. Magic like that either dissipates naturally or…”

“Lasts forever,” Constantine finished.

Bruce groaned, shooting off a grappling line and swooping upwards to catch Dick as he fell from the giant dinosaur.

——

“I pretended to get my memories back later,” Dick chuckled. “And pretended to forget the whole thing. Bruce was so relieved that I stopped knocking things over and trying to do cartwheels in high places that he totally forgot I snuck out.”

Dick patted the headstone.

“But between you and me? I’m pretty sure Alfred knew. I think B pissed him off that week.”

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

I love your Husk pieces! He's my favorite =^.^= I wanna hug the shit out of him 😆

If you have time, could you do one where Charlie planned a movie night for "bonding" lol and the reader ends up falling asleep on Husk? Everyone ships them and encourages him to confess to her? So much fluff please! Thanks hon! ^.^

A/N: This is so adorable!! Love this! I hope you enjoy! XD

Pairing: Husk x fem!Reader

“Until I Smile at You” - Husk x Reader

After living at the Hazbin Hotel for a while, Charlie’s “trust exercises” had become less of an annoying nuisance and simply a part of daily life. Actually, they were kind of refreshing and - dare you say - fun! They ranged from trust falls and share circles to your personal favorite - movie night. Movie night happened once a week and every week the person who chose the movie rotated. This week was supposed to be Angel’s turn, but ever since he chose his movie to be the most graphic porn anybody had ever had the displeasure of seeing, he was banned from choosing the movies. Instead of Angel, the group decided to let Alastor choose. He was always a marvel, as his movies ranged from silent films to disgustingly gorey horror movies. Tonight, however, he picked a noir detective film that he enjoyed while he was still alive (not before endlessly complaining about how radio is the superior media form, though).

One thing that nobody could stand about Alastor’s movies was how much he talked during them. I guess it's because he's so used to working in radio that he cannot comprehend that maybe, just maybe, not everybody wants to hear his voice all the time. He would either explain every little detail about the leading actors or talk about a living memory that he associated with the specific scene.  This night, though, Alastor seemed so enamored by the movie that he was completely silent. You were sitting on the couch with Alastor, Angel, and Husk, and found your eyes getting slightly heavier with every passing minute. The combination of the dark room, boring movie, and precious silence was just what you needed to drift into a peaceful slumber. Slowly resting your head and body on the irresistibly soft and warm cat demon beside you, your consciousness fades in and out until your mind is finally met with sleep.

The second Husk felt your head meet his shoulder in a gentle embrace, he froze. He had only ever imagined this happening, and was nowhere near prepared for it to actually happen tonight. Despite his hard and tough facade, Husk craved nothing more than soft affection, and knowing that you trusted him enough to not disturb your slumber flattered him. He remained completely still (so as not to wake you) for more than an hour until the movie finished. Charlie, using the remote to find another movie, said, 

“Thank you guys for spending tonight with me! This was amazing! I think I’m going to put on another movie, if anybody wants to stay down here, but you’re welcome to go upstairs and go to slee-'' she is cut off when she turns around to see you asleep on Husk, practically beaming with joy. “AWWWWW-” she is cut off by Husk’s “Shh!”, partially because he is embarrassed but also because he doesn’t want you to wake up in embarrassment. This caused everybody’s attention to turn to the two of you, not quite as surprised as Charlie.

“I mean, are we shocked? He’s been fawning over Y/N ever since she moved in. Don’t shame the poor guy…” Angel says in a mocking tone.

Everyone’s eyes slightly divert, not wanting to completely show that Husk’s attraction to Y/N is anything short of obvious.

“Shut the fuck up, man” Husk replies. 

“I’m not saying that she’s told me that she likes you back… buuuuut you should definitely just tell her. Trust me.” Charlie says, literally gleaming with excitement. 

Hearing this, Husk’s insides flip, his internal monologue running wild.

‘Did she- does she- could Y/N actually like someone like me? She’s just so… perfect. I don’t deserve her. But - let’s just - don’t get your hopes up, man. This could just be Charlie being Charlie, saying shit to make people leave their comfort zones or something.’

“Alright idiots, let’s not wake her up.” he says, sighing and gently picking you up. 

“I hear a single word about this tomorrow, and I’ll kill ya.” he says, while quietly walking to your room. 

He rolls his eyes while listening to Angel making fun of him and Charlie trying earnestly to defend you guys, saying something along the lines of “But this is how Vaggie and I started to fall in love!”

Opening your door as quietly as possible, he gently places you down on your bed. Covering you with blankets, he turns to leave until he hears your soft voice call to him:

“Was all that stuff they said about you true?”

Shit. You heard? Should he deny it? Pretend he didn’t even hear you?

“What?”

Deny it is.

“The stuff that Charlie and Angel said… about you liking me. Is that true?” you ask.

“I don’t know what kind of dream you were having, but everyone was dead silent during the movie, because, yknow, bonding time or whatever.”

He was avoiding your gaze until now, hoping that you would just accept the lie and go back to sleep. Instead, when he looked at you, he was met with your disbelieving face staring right back at him. 

“Mhm.” you say sarcastically. 

Moments of awkward silence lead to Husk trying to make a quick escape, muttering goodnight and walking to your door. He’s halfway out of the doorway when he hears your voice again.

“It’s a shame, I was hoping that what they were saying was true.” you say teasingly, just loud enough for him to come back into the room.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing” you reply, smugly. 

“Don’t do that.” he says, clearly intrigued but trying to seem annoyed. 

“Do what?” you say, teasingly.

“Satan, just tell me what you said. I don’t like playing games.” he says.

“Oh, but, clearly you do, if you’ve been ‘fawning’ over me since the day I've walked in,  yet.. said nothing.”

He looks - embarrassed. Almost hurt. 

“Fine, yeah, I like you. No need to rub it in and be an asshole about it, I know you don’t like me.”

You look at his diverting eyes and immediately regret your teasing tone.

“Oh, Husk, I wasn’t making fun of you, I was just being stupid. Come here.” you say, patting the spot next to you on the bed. 

He sits next to you, looking confused.

“Here.” you say, while holding his hands in yours. 

“Listen. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I’m sorry if it came across that way. I mean, obviously I like you too. Was it not clear?” you giggle. 

Husk’s eyes widened in shock.

“What- I mea- You like me? Why?” he blurts out.

“Why? Come on, don’t be dumb. You’re the funniest person I know, you’re always willing to listen to me, and you’ve never once turned me away when I needed help. And, you're truly handsome, but that’s just a bonus. You’ve made being trapped in Hell actually enjoyable, which is something that you should be proud of. I wake up everyday excited to see you, to talk to you. I just wish you would've told me that you liked me sooner (and yourself)” you say.

Husk’s eyes are glued on you like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see, like he has to memorize your every feature before he blinks. He has never been more enamored with anybody before. 

In lack of a better response, all he can blurt out is, “Thank you!?”

You giggle, a slight blush creeping up your face. 

“And you are clearly tired. How about you sleep in here tonight? We can cuddle, or talk, or just sit with each other.” you ask.

“That - That sounds great.” he says, truly letting his guard down for the first time in years. As he lays next to you, finally becoming truly comfortable, he swears that he can see a white, fuzzy hand holding a phone by the slightly-ajar door.

“Angel, if that’s you by that door right now, you’re gonna want to run.”

You can hear the spider’s screams of “I GOT IT GUYS! THE FULL VIDEO!! AHAHAHAHA!” as Husk reluctantly leaves the bed.

“Excuse me,” he says, “I’m gonna go take care of this. I’ll be back.”

As he leaves, you start to realize how you got from the couch to the bed in the first place. Smiling to yourself, you savor the fact that, though you were condemned to eternal damnation, these people that you have found could not have created a better heaven for you.

[earlycuntsets]

11/23/2004 gerard's interview from coffee with cojo on artsucks.com

"It's really cool when people you know, and knew from obscurity become famous in a field you would have never guessed that they were even involved in.

Here is some back story. . .My freshman year of college (SVA) I became fast friends with this kid named Gerard Way. It was our "foundation year" where they lump students into "general blocks" of courses, reguardless of major. The people you are grouped with, you are stuck with, because they will be in about seventy percent of your classes your foundation year. Being that Gerard was a cartooning and illustration major with a line-art-cartoonish-comic-book style, and I had been working at Marvel Comics for the past two years; we had a lot in common. He was actually a really good cartoonist (One of the top in our class).

Well, Gerard was best friends with this guy Todd. Todd was a funny guy, but I didn't really hang around with him. I was a DJ for our school's radio station (WSVA) at the time and I was dating this girl Cheryl.

A few months later I broke it off with Cheryl. . .Time passed and somewhere along the line (I can't remember how long exactly) Todd started seeing Cheryl. Of course that's when Todd would want nothing to do with me (being that he was with Cheryl now), and it's also where I lost touch with Gerard (Naturally, he being Todd's best friend and all).

Well, I would run into Gerard in school over the years from time to time, and I remember seeing one of his cartoons printed in "THE BIG BOOK OF THE WEIRD WILD WEST" which was part of one of my favorite graphic novel series' (THE BIG BOOK OF).

Then in 2003 sometime I ran into Gerard walking down Third Avenue right off of St. Marks Place. I hadn't seen him in like seven years and his name slipped my mind, but I was sure it was him.

I followed him, he was going pretty fast "MARK!" I yelled to him, and he turned around. He looked at me with the expression of searching one's memory to place a face.

"Cojo?" He said, then corrected me "It's Gerard by the way, where did you get Mark from?"

"I don't know, maybe St. Marks? I was just drawing a blank on your name, I'm sorry, but I knew it was you and I had to stop you, how ya been man?" I asked.

I rarely run into old classmates so I offered to buy him a cup of coffee. We were right in Cooper's Square so we hit a Starbucks (If you've never been in Cooper's Square, you will be amused to learn that there are three Starbucks Coffee shops within sight of one another. . .it's really freakish).

I paid for his coffee and we shot the shit. He blew my mind telling me that he's the lead singer for a band called "MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE" and that they just got back from touring Europe. What the fuck? A far cry from cartooning.

I told him about all the weird work I've been doing. It's so rare that I actually run into someone from school who is successful and doing something they love. It was really refreshing. I took a few photos of him as we talked. I'm weird with documenting things- as if you haven't noticed.

We left Starbucks and kept shooting the shit. Having nothing to do he decided to join me for the rest of the afternoon. We walked over to the Virgin Megastore on 14th and he pointed out the magazines his band had been spotlighted in and what music he's into and what not.

It was funny cause he's like: "We're in Alternative Press all the time" and I was like, "Hey, I worked for A.P., I did stuff for the Warped Tour a few years back and actually visited their office in Cleveland!" (-author's note: you will read about this Cleveland trip in the past updates after the site hard launches in Feb-). It was cool cause we knew the same peeps.

I showed him the magazines I was in, and turned to the pages to show him the artwork. One neat thing about being in magazines is that you have a mini portfolio of your work at any magazine shop you walk into in the country.

Well, he invited me to see his band perform at THE KNITTING FACTORY the next week. I told him I would try to make it, but I was really slammed with work so I probably wouldn't be able to make this one, but I'd really like to do an interview with him or him and the band sometime where I could record our conversation.

Like just hang out and shoot the shit with them (cause he's just a down to earth Jersey born kid like myself) and pitch it to magazines afterwords, accompanied by a portrait I would do of their members. He was like: "Man, I wish you had a tape recorder on you now, the stuff I've been saying is good shit, totally printable shit!" And he was right, I really was digging at him about what happend that got him to make the transition from art into music and was getting the "real" answers, not the way a rockstar talks to a reporter, but the way an old bud you goofed off with in drawing class and you haven't seen in years talks to you.

I told him I'd look out for his band in the mags and if I saw something or could help em' out I'd spotlight it or give him a buzz. He thanked me for payin' for the Starbucks and then I caught a train uptown.

Well, September Maxim's Blender did a whole page on MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE, showcasing them as the next big thing. Then last week I was out with my girl and we walked by a magazine rack, and on the cover of AP (Alternative Press) was Gerard and his band in some serious Rigamortis style dead make-up.

"No SHIT!" I exclaimed, and picked it up. I explained to Tracy (my girlfriend) the story of how I knew this guy. That night I was flipping through the channels and I came upon MTV and what the fuck, there was a MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE video! Same day as I saw the cover! The song was catchy as hell. I couldn't believe it. I was like: "No crap. . . they are gonna be huge!" Just after their song, a yellow card video started. I guess that's their genre. I asked Ink's brother (17 year old semi-pro skateboarder) Mikey if he knew of My Chemical Romance. He told me he's a fan, has their albums. I asked Jain, and she was like, "Um yeah, they are actually a really popular band! They've been out for a while."

So I guess this update is long overdue, and so is a congrats to Gerard. Keep kickin' ass man! Next time you are back in town, give me a buzz.

Just another day in the life of an Art Juggernaut.

-Cojo"

[avalordream]

Prompt: Imagine you get isekaied in Our Life. Only thing is that you wake up as a child and remember everything. You can only save at this point but you can still access the save and load menu and see your previous runs.

Meanwhile your precious neighbor is slowly becoming self aware, getting deja vu with every passing second- as if this has all happened before...

A/N: A few days after I posted this- a few other thoughts came to mind- SO HERE IS MY ATTEMPT AT VOCALIZING THEM

You’re keenly aware of how small and tiny you are the moment you wake up. 

For the first few days, you started to acclimate to…the family home. 

It wasn’t YOUR family though. It never was. It was MC’s. Not your’s.

You could project all you wanted onto MC but it was never your family or your life to experience. It was theirs.

Even so, you quickly found yourself missing the life you were used to. More specifically:

The cuisine.

It was hard not to draw suspicion to the fact that you were craving different food genres aside from Mom’s Pamela’s mac and cheese and cheeseburgers. 

Ma’s Noelani’s Hawaiian food helped quite a bit to hold you over as you started to ponder over how to approach it.

Kind of hard to bring it up to your MC’s parents that you wanted Asian/Middle eastern/Indian/Pakistani/Mexican/etc food when there was none of that for miles around

For the time being, you had to quietly hint and nudge their thoughts into that direction but not enough to make them suspicious. Noelani obviously had her suspicions about Cove getting into the house from Step 2-3 but never brought it up once. From what you could tell, she was scary observant

Another issue was how clumsy your new body was.

Your mind might be able to remember how to do everyday tasks like writing and such but this tiny body didn’t have the muscle memory to match it

Much to Liz’s dismay, you spent quite a bit of your time forcing your hands and legs to train to do things your adult body could do in a snap

Time wise- technology was a huge sucker punch. It made you feel bad for taking your own devices for granted. 

That being said, self learning everything was going to be hard without a phone or computer on hand, especially knowing that you’d have to go through the cursed education system all over again- but most likely much harder

There had to be a reason older folk complained about it, right?...

Your MC’s birthday was the same as your own, just that the birth year is 1997. That being said, the current year was 2006… Funny. You were only two in 2006…

…

Back to self learning, you tried to practice what you considered basic math long after everyone had fallen asleep

Usually, your day was filled with entertaining Shiloh and Liz, playing in the park or going along with whatever Liz said. Judging by the giant for sale sign across the street and the date, you figured out that you got isekaied roughly at least a month or two before Cove and Mr. Holden would move in. 

Who knew how that would go now that you weren’t subjected to just three choices?

Even after playing around, your body was exhausted and your baby mind was just as pooped out.

The first few days you would wake up early as children do and tried doing your math and remembering as much as you could at that time

Yeah, Liz nearly gave you a heart attack after she barged in and you had to play it off as you scribbling absolute nonsense cause you were bored

After that near collision, you changed your prep time to being at night. Sure, you woke up to Liz shaking you and not getting enough sleep in the morning, but you needed to refresh your memory the best you could

You couldn’t do it every night though and did your best to keep some sort of schedule so you wouldn’t forget - and worry your MC’s moms

They noticed the first few times of how sleepy you’d be when you’d wake up later than usual - granted if Liz didn’t wake you up - and a few nights after, you nearly got caught right in the middle of your review.

Pam was more sneaky than Noelani, so you should’ve seen this coming- but even so, you had everything spread out on your rug when you just barely heard her footsteps come to your MC’s door

You had enough time to shove everything underneath your bed - your room was messy enough but better safe than sorry - and quickly dive under the covers before you heard your door open with the softest of clicks

She was around for a good while before you heard the door close again but you didn’t relax until you were sure her footsteps went back to the master bedroom

After that, you were much more careful about how long you spent studying and when. You haven’t been caught since.

Occasionally, you’d have to sneak in your MC’s parent’s room to grab any books that you needed. Good thing Noelani was a book nerd.

You did have to be careful about your self learning- you didn’t want them getting any suspicions that their kid was suddenly…different out of nowhere.

You had no idea what MC was like as a kid before the events of Our Life so you tried your best to piece together what you could 

Speaking of, there were a bunch of things you quickly realized about Our Life, one of which is that game didn’t go over nearly everything that MC went through, let alone before Cove came or others that it only touched on briefly

For example, the tourists that came and went every year happened to be close friends of Pamela’s from her time in university, hence why they were so friendly to you and Liz in particular. 

It was also why they knew how to… handle your ever changing moods. At least-

That’s what it looked like to them.

To you- it was because you had to battle MC’s initial responses to these scenarios.

Go figure, this body still had its fair share of emotions inside of it, leaving you to figure out if this sharp pang of fear or worry was your own or not.

It left you second guessing everything you did, especially when you’d be up at night, studying and practicing your writing

It seriously irked you, knowing your writing was sloppy even though you knew this body couldn’t help it. It didn’t make seeing your scrappy writing less frustrating though

Despite how much you tried to hide how YOU felt, not MC, Noelani still picked up on the small shifts in your behavior. 

One of these being the irritation you harbored for your writing. 

Speaking of emotions, you found your body easily overwhelmed by any stronger ones- your own irritation making you cry- an alien feeling and one that took even you by surprise.

Worse part? The first time happened was in front of Noelani when she tried to help you practice your penmanship

Naturally, she tried to comfort you MC by trying to console you, saying it’d be better with practice and wiping away your tears but no matter how YOU tried, the tears wouldn’t stop flowing

It wasn’t until much later that you realized that MC’s tiny self had their own limits and by pushing those adult feelings and expectations that YOU had onto it sent it into a messy overdrive.

After that, you had learned to slow down- the world wasn’t ending…even if it felt like it.

…

The nail in the coffin for you that made YOU cry. Not MC’s body: Your dreams started to resemble parts of your life. 

You’d dream that you were back at your desk job or filling out mundane paperwork but no matter how boring it’d be, it was YOUR life.

The one YOU were used to and familiar with

You’d always feel so relieved to be back where you were supposed to, whether you were happy with that life or not

It was that feeling of having all your choices in your hand and being in control of where you wanted to go, if that made sense.

Nobody made those choices for you except well…you.

Only to have that feeling of familiarity ripped away once you registered Liz waking you up to play while “Ma and Mom snooze the day away!”

…

You just want to go home…

To YOUR home…

-> Part 1.5 <- ⊹ ‧₊˚ Isekai Self Aware Taglist: @lilqi @annoying-mary ˚₊‧ ⊹

[moni-logues]

Long, Long, Long

Pairing: Jin x reader (afab)

Genre: exes-to-lovers, angst, smut

Word count: 6.3k

Content: piv sex (it's vague-ish, so it's not specified whether protected or not), fingering

Summary: A not-exactly-by-chance encounter gives you and Jin a second chance to get it right. You don't. Will Jin give you a third? [based on the song Long Long Long by The Beatles as part of the Across the BTUniverse collab hosted by @ugh-yoongi]

* * *

“Hi.” 

Your voice was thin, airy, all the breath trapped in your throat as your eyes met his for the first time in years.  

“Hi.” 

It was like an echo in reverse: his voice the strong, confident greeting and yours the weak memory of it.  

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he continued and you felt your head cock to the side. 

“I mean... He’s my cousin...” 

“Right!”  

His laugh cut straight through you, because you hadn't been expecting it. Hadn’t been expecting to be affected by him at all.  

“I always forget you’re related.” 

“It’s how you and I met.” 

Had he forgotten? Why did it hurt so much that he might have? Why did you care? You broke up with him! Years ago! This was your choice! But you couldn’t stop the accusation lingering in your tone. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to hear it, too. 

“I remember,” he replied, face serious. Serious but ... soft? Maybe? If you looked hard enough.  

You cleared your throat to pierce the awkward silence that followed. 

“How have you been?”  

“Yeah, pretty good. Same old, y’know. You?” 

“Oh, same, yeah. Nothing to report.” 

You chuckled self-consciously, wondering when you could get out of this conversation, away from him. He offered a bare grin back and you stood there, looking at each other, for long enough that you almost started to feel the world fall away; you almost started to believe you saw something in his eyes, something you’d not seen for such a long time, something you’d never expected to see again.  

Your lips were parting, mouth about to say who knew what, when Namjoon startled you with a slap on the shoulder. 

“Hey, guys!” 

You both jumped, flinched, and did another awkward laugh that Namjoon would almost certainly not have noticed. 

“Having fun?” he asked, grin wide and eyes shining, face a little too red to be sober. 

“Yeah, of course!” 

“It’s your wedding! Who wouldn’t be having fun?!” 

That appeared to satisfy Namjoon and he left as abruptly as he arrived, but it had disturbed something between the two of you. You felt unable to look at Seokjin again. You mumbled something almost inaudible and walked away.  

You went outside, where almost no one was. It was far too hot and humid, the air clinging close to you like a second skin. It was suffocating, almost too wet to breathe, but it was a relief from being inside. Where he was.  

You sat yourself down on the stone steps around the corner, out of sight. You needed a moment to think things through. It had been a long time and you had thought it was all behind you, but seeing him again brought it screaming back, and you needed to remind yourself of what had happened. 

* * *  

Seokjin slumped in his chair, fingers on the keyboard unmoving. He liked gaming because it made him feel peaceful, even if the game was infuriating. It took him outside of his head, outside of his troubles and stresses. He could leave everything behind and let himself be absorbed into the world of the game. It was relaxing. It was refreshing. It was, often, a well-needed break.  

Tonight, though, he just couldn’t get there. Couldn’t bring himself to leave the real world behind. This time, it felt too big. His problems too important to just run away from, even if only temporarily.  

He loved you. Knew it down to his bones. Felt that you were as much a part of him as they were. Couldn’t imagine a world in which you weren’t together but found himself thinking about it all the same.  

He wondered how often you made each other happy, because it felt rare these days. He tried to remember the last time you greeted each other with actual smiles on your faces—smiles that you meant, smiles that you felt. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment at which it had got difficult. It had happened slowly; he knew that much. He knew, when you moved in together, that he was happy. That you were happy, too. That you both were full of hope and enthusiasm and love. He knew, now, that he wasn’t. 

He sighed heavily. That was the first time he’d really thought it. The first time those words had risen in his mind, floating to the top like pond scum. He stared, unseeing, at the screen in front of him. All he could see was you. You then and you now. What had happened to you? What had happened to him? 

* 

You felt Seokjin roll out of bed. You didn’t roll over to him, ask him where he was going, say good morning. You stayed, facing away, on your side.  

You used to love waking up with him. Used to snuggle down at night, gleeful about the morning you knew was coming. You looked forward to every new day because they all started with him. Started and ended and then started again. Your days were book-ended with him, bound by him, supported by him. It felt exactly as it should have, you thought. Right. Correct. As it should have been. 

You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, trying not to cry. Every morning a fresh heartbreak. Every morning, rubbing exhaustion from your eyes as you crept to bed later and later at night, anything to delay that cold slide into sheets, the slipping off to sleep knowing you’d be waking to disappointment.  

You were going to have to talk about it. You’d both been doing a good job avoiding it so far, but something had to give. You didn’t know how much longer you had left in you. Didn’t know if you could keep tip-toeing around, ignoring each other, pretending things were normal. Pretending you were happy.  

Were you? At that point, you weren’t even sure you were still pretending. You passed each other like ships in the night because you were too scared to talk. Too scared of another argument with no end. No resolution.  

Except one. 

That one.  

The one you didn’t dare think about.   

* 

“We have to do something,” you said, quietly, the words dropping to the floor, dark and heavy.  

“I don’t want to,” Jin replied.  

You took a beat to swallow your frustration; you didn’t want to either. You didn’t want this. You didn’t plan this. You hadn’t planned for this. This hadn’t figured in any of your plans when you had signed a lease with him, merged your life with his.  

You rubbed at your temples. Neither of you said anything. You sat, in silence, side by side on the sofa. You thought yourself around in circles. You wrangled with the problem again, as though you hadn’t done so a thousand times before. You tried to find something, some other angle, some fresh perspective that might give you a way out. You made your head hurt with it. The thump of your heart resounded inside your skull, hit you over the head every second.  

You were tired. So tired. Of all of it. Everything. Of the misery you felt. Of the misery where joy had once been. Of this incredibly pregnant absence that surrounded you. These edges, frayed and sharp, screaming in neon about what used to be there, what used to fill them.  

Some days, you had thought about not coming home. Not ditching your whole life, just... not coming home for a day. Maybe two. Staying at a friend’s. Eventually, you always made your way back there, because you weren’t able to admit to anyone that things were falling apart, but you spent the journey pretending you were heading somewhere else. That there was a destination at the end that wouldn’t break your heart. 

“I think we have to,” you whispered, your voice cracking on tears. “We can’t just keep living like this. You know it as well as I do: we’re not in this anymore. It’s over.” 

And Jin couldn’t say anything. Because he knew you were right. He just didn’t want you to be right. He wanted this to be right: him, you, together. He wanted it to be like it was. Before... Before he wasn’t even sure what. Life? Work? The everyday drudgery of existence somehow grinding you both down so that you didn’t have time for each other, didn’t have space, didn’t have energy. You lived together in relative peace and that was all you had now. Nothing less but nothing more.  

You’d already done all the arguments. The ‘you aren’t prioritising this relationship’ one and the ‘we need to make more of an effort’ one and the ‘why are we even together then?’ one. All of those a hundred times and others besides. They never fixed anything. Only made you both feel worse. Frustrated. Guilty. Ashamed. Scared.  

So he had known this was coming and was being cowardly, making you the one to say it. He felt bad for that but he couldn’t. It hurt enough just to hear you say the words; he couldn’t be the one to rip them from his lungs, to tear down everything you had built together. He was a coward. Had been a coward all this time, trying to run from this.  

Knowing it was coming didn’t make it hurt any less. He couldn’t reply immediately, had to take a minute to let the initial sting wear off. Kept waiting for it to fade. Gave himself a little longer to feel composed. To stop feeling shocked and confused and hurt, hurt, hurt.  

He dropped his head into his hands, thoroughly shamed, chastising himself for making you do this, for still not being able to agree. Not being able to help you with this. He knew you were right but he couldn’t look it in the eye. 

“Jin,” you croaked. Pleading.  

He swore under his breath, tears burning in his own eyes. He was going to let you down. Had been doing it for months. Was going to do it again. He could hear you crying, couldn’t bear to look over and see it, too. He bit down on his lip, chose to focus on that; grabbed his hair with his fingers and pulled until it hurt, chose to focus on that. Anything but the pain of hearing you cry. Anything but the pain of his heart, bleeding freely, filling him with heartbreak.  

“We have to break up,” you whispered, some time later, when your breath had evened out a little, when Jin had blood on his tongue and fewer strands in his scalp.  

“I don’t want to,” he whispered back.  

A coward. He was a coward. He knew it.  

You weren’t. You were going to do it. What he couldn’t. Pull the plug. End it all. Walk away. Leave.  

* 

You did. 

* * * 

“This seat taken?” 

You barely registered the words, let alone the voice. You waved a hand in a vague gesture of an answer. It wasn’t until he sat down and that lost, familiar scent hit your nose that you realised who it was.  

Your head snapped around, looking at him, and, once he met your gaze, you couldn’t look away.  

Were they the same? Those eyes? Were they exactly as you remembered? You couldn’t be sure. They looked similar enough, familiar enough, deep and dark as they had ever been. You just couldn’t see beyond them anymore. Couldn’t see what he was thinking or feeling. Had lost the skill when you lost him, you supposed. You searched his face for clues, for a hint of-- 

You stopped yourself. You were about to think of him as ‘your Seokjin’ but he wasn’t that. Hadn’t been for a long time. He could be someone else entirely now. Even if you felt catapulted back in time, hurtling into the past when you had been his, when there had been a connection between you, a thread, thoroughly tangled, so well knit that you had thought it would never unravel, that didn’t mean he felt it, too. You had no right to expect that. To want it. 

Did you want it? 

“They’re organising a search party for you, y’know,” he said lightly, lips lifting slightly at the corners. 

“Oh?” 

“You missed the first dance-” 

“Oh, fuck!” 

Finally bringing yourself back to the real world, you gazed around yourself, realised how low the sun had got in the sky, saw all the bugs flying around you, making a feast of your skin. It was still sticky and close, the encroaching dark bringing with it no chill.  

Seokjin laughed. 

“Don’t worry; Hobi filmed the whole thing. They attempted a lift and Namjoon dropped her.” 

You gasped.  

“No!” 

“Yes!” 

You laughed, harder than you might have otherwise, because it was such a relief to laugh, to cut through the tension you were feeling.  

“Is she ok?” 

“Of course. It’s the perfect wedding anecdote: no harm, no foul, caught on tape.” 

“You’ll have to get Hobi to send that to me.” 

“It’s already on the internet.” 

You wanted to fill the silence. You wanted to keep this going: this light chat, this friendly conversation. You wanted to show yourself that you could do it. You had been working on it, steeling yourself because you had known you would be seeing him here, that you wouldn’t be able to avoid it. You’d been preparing. Reminding yourself of your decisions, of where you were now because of them. Propping them up with a little too much bluster—but it was only one night. This facade did not have to be robust; it just had to be opaque. 

“We should go back inside,” Seokjin offered instead.  

“I don't want to,” you said without thinking.  

And those four words did it: stabbed you hard in the chest, right where you were softest. You swallowed your gasp, held your breath. It hurt like it had three years ago. How could your heart feel so freshly cleaved when you had been sure it was all solid scar tissue? Healed and weathered, maybe, but sewn together all the same.  

You wondered if he would say it. If he even still remembered. You were waiting for it, tense and aching and bleeding all over. The seconds were weeks, months, years. Three years. Three years, three months and, you calculated it quickly, five days. You winced, cheeks flaming, eyes burning.  

“Ok,” he said eventually. “We don’t have to.” 

When you looked at him, his heart broke a little. Watery and wide, your eyes pleaded with him, said things he couldn’t hear. Not anymore. He had wanted to apologise. Had almost done it so many times, reached out to you just to say sorry. Sorry for- 

All of it.  

Sometimes he was sorry you ever met. Sometimes he was sorry you fell in love. He was sorry that it didn’t work. Sorry that he couldn’t fix it. Sorry that you walked away. Sorry that he let you. Sorry that he didn’t run after you.  

“I’m sorry,” he said, plainly, finally.  

He wasn’t sure that he wasn’t still being selfish, that this wasn’t more for himself than it was for you but he couldn’t let this opportunity pass. He might never see you again. Or he would see you: when Namjoon had his first baby, at their 100-day party, and every year after that, maybe. He wasn’t sure which would be worse. 

“For what?” 

He sighed and looked at his hands.  

“Everything, I suppose. That it didn’t work out between us.” 

He saw you shrug in his periphery, hoped that wasn’t how you really felt. 

“It’s ok. Wasn’t your fault. We just... didn’t work out.” 

There was a long pause. You were going to let him lead the conversation because you didn’t trust yourself to. Didn’t trust yourself not to rip your heart open at the seams and ask him to break it again. Because despite all the time that had passed, despite the clean break, the no-contact, it didn’t feel finished. You weren’t done. You had tapped a rich seam you thought had dried up; if you let it, it would overflow.  

“Can you believe they’re actually married?” he asked.  

You laughed. This was easier territory. This was happy. This was joyful. This was everything you and he were not. 

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” 

“Given how it all started.” 

“Oh, that was so long ago. They’ve been happy for ages now.” 

They had and it made your heart lighter. That they turned it around. That somehow mess and rubble turned into solid foundations. That the house they built out of brick was strong and stable and full of laughter. 

“... We were happy once, weren’t we?” 

You took a breath before you turned to look at him, filled yourself up with air as if it would keep other things out. Other things like the aching familiarity of affection for him. The instinct to take his hand in yours, to rest your head on his shoulder. The feeling that you wanted to make everything better for him. The belief that you could.  

Other things like love.  

“Yeah, we were happy,” you said stiffly.  

“I’m not sure where it went wrong.” 

He turned, then, finally looking at you. You had the same sensation you had earlier: the sense of everything else falling away; the hint of something becoming clearer.  

He kissed you.  

Or you kissed him.  

Either way, it was happening.  

“Is this stupid?” you whispered against his lips, not daring to pull back farther, to open your eyes. 

“Probably,” he replied. “But I think we should do it anyway.” 

He didn’t give you the opportunity to argue, locking his lips against yours again. You didn’t want to argue. You wanted to fall into him, give in to him, give in to something you’d been denying that you wanted all this time. All these years.  

In just one kiss, those years disappeared. The time apart collapsed into nothing and you were together again. Like you used to be. You could ignore everything around you; there was no wedding, no party, no formalwear. It was just you and him. As it always should have been.  

He didn’t stop and neither did you. Not when he brought his hands to cup your face. Not when you shifted closer to him. Not when he rolled his tongue over yours. Not when you clutched at the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.  

Only when you had to move, when the constriction of the steps and your dress meant you couldn’t get any closer to him did you stop. Did you pause. Did you take a breath. 

“Jin,” you began, the pounding of your heart making you a little breathless already. 

“Don’t,” he whispered back. “Please don’t.” 

“Don’t what?” 

He sighed and you felt him sit back, drift away from you, hands falling to his lap.  

“Don’t say that we shouldn’t do this. Or don’t say we should talk about things. Don’t say-... I don’t want to say anything.” 

His plea was echoed in his eyes and you bit your tongue. For a second at least. For long enough for him to stand and offer his hand to you. For long enough that you took it. That you let him lead you back inside, out of the room, up the stairs. 

He opened the door to his hotel room and held it for you, his other hand still cupped around yours. He let it shut in silence and you sat on the bed. Your chest was bursting. Felt full. Full like a barrel bomb hurtling out of the sky. You didn’t know the damage it would do if it fell. If you let it smash itself open on the floor of this hotel room.  

So, you didn’t let it. Didn’t give it a chance. You locked eyes with Jin and reached out for him. Your hand fell to the knot of his tie and you dug your fingers into it, loosening, your other hand joining to break it apart and pull it from underneath his collar. Then your fingers went to work on the top buttons of his shirt, the ones on his waistcoat, pushing his jacket off his shoulders to let it fall to the floor.  

Jin wasn’t still as he let you undress him. He worked as gently and quietly as you did, using deft fingers to pull grips from your hair, freeing it from its tangles and running his fingers through your tresses as they ran like rivulets down your back, crossing your collar bones and curling just above your chest. You remembered with a smile and a twinge in your heart that he always wanted you to grow your hair long. That you had cut it into a long bob a year or so before you broke up and he never stopped mentioning, firstly, how beautiful you were regardless but, secondly, how much he liked your hair when it was long enough to tie into ropes, to curl endlessly around his fingers.  

You were silent like that—unspeaking—so that when he brought his lips to yours again, when his tongue found yours and you could taste him like you had a thousand times before, your little sigh of contentment was loud. Loud, too, was his grunt as you ran your hands down his chest and palmed at his trousers. You let those sounds fill the room. They expanded like air until it was full of small, breathless noises, ones you’d not heard for years. Ones you’d thought you wouldn’t hear again.  

Sounds you had forgotten: Jin’s intake of breath when your teeth met his neck, the way it sucked in through his teeth like a gasp, as if it hurt though you knew that it didn’t; the sound of a zip undoing and the quiet, grunted exhale that always accompanied it as your fingers grazed his length (that you didn’t even know if he was aware he was making, that he made the same every time); the moan when your fingers did more than graze, when they wrapped around him, cool against the solid heat of his cock, and squeezed a little. 

Sounds he had forgotten: your moan when his mouth found your nipple, when he felt it shiver to attention under his lips; the way even your breathing whined, each exhale carrying with it a sweet, sighed vowel which floated into the air to make space for the next; the way his name sounded in your mouth, the way your lips pushed and pulled to form it, the way the final consonant became a sound of its own, stressed as if you didn’t want it to end that quickly. 

Sounds you had both forgotten: the ones you made together. The rush and click of your kisses, breathing heavily, lips pressed together and then apart, at irregular intervals because sometimes you wanted to pepper kisses all across his perfect face and sometimes you wanted to breathe his breath back to him, wanted to taste him forever, wanted your tongue to know his like it used to.  

The wetter, slick squelch of his fingers pressing into you, coated in your arousal, then their insistent pressure that made you whine, made you keen, made your breaths high-pitched and long.  

The slap of his skin against yours as you sat above him and let him fuck into you from below. The accompanying grunts, answered by your panting his name: a word you thought your body had forgotten but that came without your say so, automatically, bubbling up from your lungs like a long-forgotten spring. Like it was natural. 

The sound he made as he came, his throat tight around the vowel as it stopped the air. The opening sigh of your name immediately following it.  

“Fuck,” Jin whispered as you let your body fall forward into his arms, chest to chest, your head on his shoulder.  

“Fuck,” you replied.  

The silence was complete, then. The drone of the air-conditioning and a fly batting at the window pane didn’t reach you. The noise of the disco two flights below didn’t either. It was just the two of you and your silence. The two of you with your arms around each other. In a bubble. Back in time.  

You fell asleep like that: the alcohol and the orgasms conspiring to knock you out before you could knock sense into yourselves. 

* 

The night was deep when you finally woke. You shivered and goosebumps rippled across your skin—too cold now, with the aircon still going. Jin’s head was tipped back, his mouth slightly open, eyelids fluttering as he dreamt. You started to smile and then stopped yourself. 

What were you doing? 

What had you done? 

You realised you were cold on the inside, too. That whatever your chest had been full of earlier was gone now. An icy dread began to swim in your veins. A terror.  

What a fucking stupid thing to have done.  

Jin slept deeply and you’d never been more grateful for it than you were then. You extricated yourself from his heavy limbs, pulled your dress over your head and grabbed your underwear and shoes in your hands. You opened the door of his hotel room as quietly as you could and padded on tiptoes back to your own. 

* * * 

“Hi.” 

Your voice was quiet, choked, blood racing to your face, cheeks burning. The reply didn’t come. He just looked at you. Blinked once. Kept looking at you.  

That was fair enough, you thought. He didn’t have to speak to you. Hadn’t done for over a year now.  

Not that you had spoken to him. Not that you’d been in touch at all after walking out on him at Namjoon’s wedding. Walking out on him as he slept after the two of you had slept together. 

But you did wish he would either say something or stop looking. It occurred to you that you could look away. You could walk away. Technically, anyway. Your legs could move and you’d been walking successfully for the better part of 30 years now.  

But you couldn’t do it again.  

Jin nodded with the smallest twitch of his head and turned away. He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t really know how to say anything without the entire monologue pouring out. The one he’d been thinking to himself in quiet moments. The one he had ranted in his head for days after the wedding. It was softer now than it had been then, but it wasn’t soft. He didn’t want to give you soft, not again.  

He knew the break-up was as much his fault as yours. Or that it was no one’s fault exactly. He wasn’t angry with you for the break-up and now he had almost stopped being angry with himself, too. Because there had been a way back. He had thought you would walk it. With him. He had thought that the door had been opened and at least you would fucking talk about it.  

Then he woke up alone.  

So, he didn’t know what to say to you now, a year later. A year in which your silence resounded. He had got the message.  

* 

It had been a year. You knew that. You were painfully aware of that. You had seen it coming, had been almost counting down the days with every morning that you woke up and didn’t speak to him. Didn’t reach out. Didn’t apologise or try to explain. It had been another year without him.  

You hadn’t gone back to the wedding party. Had sat in your own hotel room and cried. Had sat in your own bed in your own house and cried. On and off. Occasionally. When you let yourself think about it. Him.  

It was months before you told anyone because you didn’t want it to be real. You didn’t want to believe that you had been that stupid. All your old wounds opening up, as if you had scurvy so bad your heart was unstitching itself. Except it wasn’t a vitamin C deficiency, it was you. You, actively ripping at the seams. You, digging around inside your deepest hurt. Fucking around in it.  

That was why you hadn’t called. Messaged. Carrier pigeoned. Smoke signalled. Telegrammed. Sent a message via your cousin and his friend, Namjoon. 

Your relationship hadn’t worked. You had broken up. You weren’t happy together. Things had changed. You clung to these truths like lifelines. They were facts and facts didn’t change no matter how you felt about them. Not even if you wanted them to.  

* 

You didn’t speak to Jin at your second cousin’s (first cousin once removed? Namjoon’s son’s) 100-days party. He didn’t speak to you, actually, but you pretended it was mutual. You stayed out of the way and, eventually, the party ended. 

* * * 

“Hi.” 

You’d practised this. You knew he would be here and you had cemented closed those holes in your heart. You had papered over the cracks and you were going to be civil. Polite. Friendly, even. You could do this. So far, your voice was playing ball. That was an absolutely textbook greeting. 

“Hi.” 

A response this time. Promising.  

“I’ve missed you.” 

Jesus fucking wept. That wasn’t part of the plan. By the look on his face, Jin also was not expecting you to say something like that but, as ever, he schooled his face quickly back into one of neutrality.  

“Have you?” he asked.  

You winced at the edge in his voice and knew you deserved it. You didn’t know how to answer, because your rational brain had taken back control and you didn’t want to wade into those waters. 

He sighed sharply, exhaling through his nose; he turned to leave and you let him. You watched him disappear through a doorway and tipped your head back against the wall, bumping it deliberately once, twice, three times.  

* 

“H-” 

“Please don’t say fucking ‘hi’ to me again.” 

The word died on your tongue.  

“What do you want?” Jin asked, not aggressive, just aggrieved.  

“To talk?” 

You saw him bite his tongue. Saw him chew and swallow the sharp retort he wanted to give you. 

“About?” 

You took a deep breath. 

“Us?” 

“I wasn’t aware there was an ‘us’.” 

“Jin, plea-” 

“No.” 

“I-” 

“No. Do you know how much I beat myself up when we ended things? When you ended things – because I couldn’t do it. I should have. I should have been the one to take that hit, but I let you do it because I was a fucking coward. I was scared to lose you but not scared enough to make things right between us, apparently. Just enough to fuck things up between us for good. I thought that was my fault. 

“And it fucking hurt because I missed you. All the time. I thought, all the time, about you and the life that we should’ve been living together still. And it hurt knowing that I ruined it. I fumbled you as the kids apparently say these days. I thought it was on me. 

“Then there you were at the wedding and it took me longer than it should have but I...”  

He paused and you couldn’t have filled the silence if you’d wanted to. He threw a hand in the air. 

“But what do I know? I got it wrong once and then obviously got it wrong a second time. You have no idea what it felt like waking up to an empty bed that morning.” 

It had been embarrassing. Scalding like a pot of boiling water thrown in his face. Had hurt like it, too. Jin had cursed his impulsivity, knowing that you should have had the conversation first, should have made things clear before going and fucking. Fucking things up. He just hadn’t been able to help himself: there you were, in his arms again, where he never thought you’d be. So, he had let sense take its leave and he had assumed it would all get straightened out afterwards. How naive he had been. 

“I’m so-” 

“Don’t say you’re sorry. What does it matter now? It doesn’t. I got the message. Loud and clear. We’re done. I get it. I’ll get over it. Just-” 

“Don’t.” 

“Don’t what?” 

You had to swallow, your mouth suddenly full of saliva, your stomach churning; you weren’t sure you weren’t about to open your mouth and vomit, but you had to say it.  

“Don’t get over it. Me. Don’t get over me.” 

His expression remained guarded, but his eyes flashed and you knew that expression. You knew him. Down to his bones you knew him and it all seemed so simple now, somehow. Laid out in front of you; spelt out in sky-writing; blaring like a klaxon.  

Your foot was already off the ground, about to rush to him, kiss him, make real all the things that had been only in your heart and mind for the last year and some. Maybe there was a reason you couldn’t get over him: that you shouldn’t. That the last time should never have been the last time. That you needed to be apart only so you could come back together. That you had lived with him and lived without him and you knew which you preferred.  

It welled up in you like a wave, sucking back on the shore as it rose, preparing to crash with full force and you took a step forward and lifted your other foot to take one more. 

Then you paused. Because that’s exactly what you’d done last time and he wouldn’t do it again. Wouldn’t step foot in what might’ve been a trap. You owed it to him to talk first. To lay yourself bare before him, emotionally this time. To let him see. 

“I shouldn’t have left,” you began, foot planted firmly on the floor. “That was really... It was shit. It was mean. It was uncalled for. I shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t fair. And I am sorry, even if you don’t want to hear it. I am sorry and I’ve been kicking myself for doing it since the door shut behind me that morning.  

“It wasn’t your fault. At all. I never blamed you for our break-up. You didn’t do anything wrong. We just... Well, I don’t know; maybe we both stopped trying. But it wasn’t just you. It always takes two. You shouldn’t have been beating yourself up for it. I’m sorry for that, too. 

“I’ve been beating myself up for leaving,” you continued. “Honestly? I was scared. I didn’t expect it. I had put so much work into getting over it, being ok with seeing you again, believing that the break-up was the right thing to do and that there was nothing between us anymore.  

“It wasn’t true. None of it. Because the first time we’re in a room together after breaking up, we have sex?” You chuckled, a little rueful. “Who the fuck was I kidding? I just don’t think we’re made to be apart.” 

“We can’t just get back together.” 

“Why not?” 

Jin laughed then—more out of surprise than anything else. He had sworn he was done with you. He was determined to be. Because, well, that’s how the saying goes, isn’t it? Fool me twice... It was unfair to put it in those terms, he knew, but he still wasn’t prepared to put himself in another position that would see him heartbroken. Again. For the third time.  

But here you were, saying things he’d only ever dreamt you’d say. Saying them and looking at him like you meant it. At least, he thought that was what you looked like. Did he know you well enough still to make that call?  

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you let it go, because he was just looking at you. Looking at you with such uncertainty in his eyes. He was very good at keeping his guard up; you had been surprised when you learnt that. Had thought that you’d got to know him pretty well until he revealed to you that you barely knew him at all. Had let you take a peek at the depths beneath his not very still waters. It had been something you loved so much about him: the way you could share a look in a crowded room and only you would understand. The way he let you in had made you feel special because you were one of a small, select group. You had betrayed that trust.  

You understood his doubt. Knew he had every reason to feel it. Knew that you had to swallow your own fear and uncertainty for it. 

“Why not?” you repeated, stronger this time, a proper challenge. 

He spluttered.  

“Wel-, becau-... It-... I don’t know!”  

You did step forward this time. Sure, short strides. Crossing the room you’d been standing at opposite sides of until you were standing just an arm’s length from him.  

“Why not?” 

“Because...”  

His voice was barely a whisper now. You reached forward for his hands and he gave them to you. You took another step forward. 

“Why not?” you whispered back, feet moving you towards him all on their own now, until you had to crane your neck to look up at him, until you could smell his aftershave, feel the puff of his shocked little exhale. “I’m in,” you told him. “I meant it: I don’t think we were made to be apart. We’ve done apart. I don’t want to do it anymore. Didn’t want to do it in the first place. Please. Please give me another chance.” 

He scoffed, his eyebrows briefly high on his forehead. 

“It’s not you who needs another chance,” he replied. “It’s me.” 

“Ok, then, I’ll give it to you. Have it. Take it. Me. Please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You didn’t need words to tell him how sure you were.  

[folkloresthings]

TOLERATE IT / FA14.

in which the older sister of lando norris finds herself teetering dangerously towards the precipice of her brother’s, significantly older, colleague.

( fernando alonso x norris!reader )

track one: gold rush. track two: delicate. track three: labyrinth. track four: false god. track five: happiness. track six: the 1. track seven: daylight. track eight: lover.

✩⡱ warnings: age gap! reader is 25, fernando is 41. some cursing and sexual references.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by pierregasly, christianhorner, and 938,847 others

f1 We are so delighted to announce our new F1 x Red Cross Ambassador, Y/N Norris! Y/N went straight from Oxford University into the world of charity work. She has worked with the Red Cross for over 4 years and will now be working alongside Formula 1 in our ongoing support of the charity’s campaigns. Keep an eye out for our future fundraising events, auctions, and other exciting things!

view all 798,211 comments

landonorris go sister that’s my sister!!

danielricciardo does this mean more y/n in the paddock? because that will make race weekend so much more enjoyable

⤷ yourusername indeed it will honey badger 🫡 if you ever need a sub to drive for you, i’m in

user nepo baby job. she’s only working with f1 because her brother’s lando norris

⤷ user it’s f1 we’re talking about, they’re ALL nepo babies. at least y/n has been working with charities for years, it’s not completely random

fernandoalo_official great news!! see you on the paddock yourusername

comment liked by yourusername and 849 others

hungary was warmer than you had expected, that humid sort of heat that made you feel yucky no matter how many times you’d showered. but amongst the sea of sweaty drivers and mechanics, it could have felt much worse. lando had given you the grand tour of the paddock and track but duty called, and with your brother called off to some interview, you were left trackside.

there were no cars due to be on the track, so you were able to get as close as possibly. for years you’d gone to your brothers races, listened to his fanatic rants, and tried so hard to understand why he loved the sport so much. but now, standing and looking out at the quiet track, you started to understand the beauty.

“hello, again.” you jumped a little, the voice cutting through the peace. when you turned, you found fernando on the other side of the pit wall, looking at you through the gap in the fence. you chuckled, feeling caught, looking up at him.

“hi there,” you greeted, blinking innocently. but behind those eyes were little innocence, same as his own. you hadn’t slept with the driver, you weren’t that quick, but the night he’d spent in your apartment was long. wondering kisses, stolen touches, hesitance to leave. you both wanted more, but neither wanted to give in.

“you’re tagging along for the season, then?” he asks, eyes gleaming with possibility. you nod, humming quietly. as excited as you were for this job, another kind of excitement came knowing you’d be seeing fernando every weekend. “first time in hungary?”

“no, second. i travelled with some of my girlfriends during uni and we stopped in budapest for a few days — though i don’t remember most of it,” you admitted, cheeks turning red at the memory. he laughed, head thrown back with pure delight. it made your stomach twist endlessly.

“well, let me refresh your memory. i’ll take you to dinner tonight,” he offers, charming as ever. your brows raise, trying to differentiate his flirtations from his sincerity. “consider it a congratulations on the new job.”

you’re getting ready to refuse, knowing how lando would react and the complications it would bring, when fernando’s hand slipped through the pit wall railing, brushing over yours until it rests on top. you look down, noticing just how much bigger his hand is than yours. stronger, too, with more defined knuckles and much more worn down from years of driving.

“please say yes,” he whispers, even though there’s no one else around, and squeezes your hand softly. you sigh, meeting his deadly gaze once more.

“alright. but i want italian food.”

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yourusername how’d you turn it right around?

view all 619,553 comments

user A MAN’S HAND

lilymhe literally the prettiest girl ever

carlossainz55 hermosa 😍

⤷ user is carlos the mystery man ??????

landonorris i let you out of my sight for five minutes JEEZ

landonorris now who is he so i can break his hands

TWITTER.

IMESSAGE.

writers note: lando stop cockblocking. also that b&w pic of flo is one of my favourites ever i can’t stop staring at it

[loveanton]

honestly | song eunseok

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: you always thought that jung sungchan would forever be a part of your life, never once imagining a world where the two of you didn't speak let alone get along. now, three months have come to pass since you last spoke to the man you once thought you’d marry and you're starting to become content with the idea that maybe your world doesn't have to revolve around jung sungchan after all.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: eunseok x f!reader ft sungchan

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: friends to almost lovers!au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 8.7k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: lots of kissing, drinking, eunseok and sungchan almost fight, they shower together, nipple sucking, slight choking, arguing between the reader and eunseok, this is more suggestive than pt 1.

⏤ 𝑎/n: this is a pt 2 to everything i didn’t say which you can find here!

You giggle as you sneak another spoonful of Eunseok's ice cream, your eyes twinkling with mischief. He tries to push you away gently, laughing.

"Hey, get your own!" He giggles. Despite his playful resistance, he relents, offering you another bite. You grin, accepting the spoonful with a delighted hum.

Beomgyu watches the two of you, shaking his head with a grin. "Eunseok, you my friend, are so whipped."

Karina nudges him with her elbow. "Shut up, Beomgyu. They're cute together."

It's a warm evening, and the group of you—Jake, Anton, Beomgyu, Yujin, and Karina—are seated at a booth inside the ice cream parlor, enjoying the summer night. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and the occasional jibe.

As you savor the stolen bite of Eunseok’s soft serve, your thoughts drift back over the past few months. It's hard to believe it's been three months since you last spoke to Sungchan, the man you imagined marrying. You never thought a world where the two of you didn't speak, let alone didn't get along, could ever exist. But here you are, beginning to accept that maybe your world doesn't have to revolve around Sungchan after all.

These three months have been a period of self-discovery and healing. You’ve spent time figuring out who you are apart from Sungchan. The first few weeks were the hardest. The memories of him were everywhere, and it felt like a part of you was missing. But slowly, you began to find solace in new routines and new friendships. Eunseok and his friends became your anchor. They took you in, and their warmth and kindness made the pain of Sungchan’s absence bearable.

For too long all you ever knew was Sungchan, ending the toxicity that had become your friendship has been doing you good. Karina and Yujin took you under their wing and treated you as a sister, often coming over to your dorm for sleepovers and staying up late to listen to you vent about how hurt you were. Jake, Anton and Jake also became like brothers, for too long you only ever had Sungchan to depend on. It’s so refreshing having other guys in your life who add to it in such a positive way. They don’t leave you in a state of confusion or go out of their way to intentionally hurt you, they constantly love on you and do what they can to make sure you feel that love.

Eunseok, especially, had been your rock. He was always there when the memories got too overwhelming, offering a shoulder to cry on. He made you laugh when the stress of classes was too much and was there to celebrate your small victories. Most importantly, he loved you in a way you wished Sungchan had.

A week ago, Eunseok had asked you out, and without hesitation, you had accepted. Since then, things have been going great. You feel lighter, happier, and more yourself than you have in a long time.

Returning to the present, you smile as Eunseok offers you another bite of his ice cream, his eyes soft with affection. "You know, I think you like my ice cream more than your own," he says, his tone playful.

You shrug, leaning in to accept the spoonful. "Maybe I just like you more," you reply with a wink.

He chuckles and leans in to kiss your cheek, but just as his lips brush your skin, the door to the ice cream parlor opens. Your heart skips a beat as Sungchan walks in, accompanied by Shotaro and Wonbin.

Your eyes meet Sungchan’s, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. Sungchan’s expression is a mix of surprise and something else – a flicker of jealousy. He sees you with Eunseok, the way you’re so comfortable and happy together, and it’s clear that it affects him. His roommate is now the person holding you, the one who makes you smile.

You feel a pang of sadness at the sight of Sungchan. You were once so close, but now you’re strangers. The realization of how much has changed is bittersweet. Yet, beneath the sadness, there is a sense of satisfaction.

Sungchan and his friends approach the counter to order, and you can’t help but steal glances in his direction. It’s strange to see him like this, to be so close yet feel so distant. Part of you wants to go over and talk to him, to bridge the gap that’s grown between you. But another part of you feels smug, enjoying the way Eunseok holds you and the way Sungchan seems to react to it.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Eunseok asks quietly, noticing your distraction.

You shake your head. “No, I’m okay. Let’s stay.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, giving you a reassuring smile. Your group continues their light-hearted banter, trying to maintain the cheerful atmosphere despite the tension that has entered the room.

You can’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Seeing Sungchan again stirs up old memories and feelings, but you also feel a sense of pride in your new relationship. Eunseok has been everything you needed and more, and you’re grateful for his unwavering support and love.

Sungchan and his friends walk over to your group, their expressions casual but their presence adding a palpable tension. Anton looks up, a forced smile on his face as he greets them. "Hey, Sungchan, Shotaro, Wonbin."

"Hey, Anton," Sungchan replies, his eyes flickering towards you and Eunseok before quickly looking away.

The rest of your friends exchange wary glances, not particularly pleased to see Sungchan and his entourage. However, they tolerate his presence due to Anton's connection with him through the swim team. Anton shifts uncomfortably before reluctantly asking, "Do you guys want to join us?"

Eunseok’s grip on you tightens slightly, his protective side showing. You can feel his unease, and you lean into him, offering silent support. Sungchan and his friends agree, pulling up chairs to join your booth. The atmosphere shifts, becoming awkward and tense.

Sungchan attempts to break the silence with small talk. "So, how’s everyone been?"

Karina doesn’t hide her disdain, her tone sharp. "Better, now that we don’t have any toxic people around."

Jake snickers at her comment, leaning back in his chair. "Play nice, Karina."

Sungchan brushes off the remark, forcing a smile. "It’s good to see you too, Karina."

The tension is almost tangible as you all sit together, the easy camaraderie from earlier now strained. Wonbin, trying to lighten the mood, chimes in, "Hey, we were thinking of going to a rave tonight. You guys interested?"

Your friends exchange uncertain looks. They seem reluctant, knowing that you and Eunseok might not be keen on the idea, especially with Sungchan present. Eunseok speaks up, his voice calm but firm. "Actually, we have plans for tonight. We’re going on a date."

Sungchan’s eyes flicker with a mixture of emotions – jealousy, regret, and something else you can’t quite place. He stares at you and Eunseok, his discomfort evident. The group remains silent for a moment before Beomgyu breaks it, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Will Yuri be there?"

Sungchan’s expression hardens slightly. "No, we’ve broken up, so I doubt it."

You and Eunseok share a look but don’t comment. The dynamics of your friend group have shifted so much in the past months, and seeing Sungchan now feels like looking at a stranger. Despite the tension, there’s a sense of closure in knowing you’ve moved on to something healthier and more fulfilling.

Eunseok glances at his watch, then at you. "We should probably get going. We have to head to the trampoline park."

The mention of your date brings a soft smile to your lips. "Yeah, we don’t want to be late."

Sungchan’s gaze lingers on you both, his jealousy more palpable now. He opens his mouth as if to say something but then closes it, swallowing his words. Anton tries to lighten the mood one last time. "Have fun, you two."

You and Eunseok gather your things, saying your goodbyes to the group. As you stand up to leave, Eunseok’s hand finds yours, his touch reassuring. You cast one last glance at Sungchan, noting the mix of emotions on his face – a stark contrast to the happiness you feel with Eunseok.

Outside, the sun is still blazing, but the air feels lighter. Eunseok looks at you, his eyes full of warmth and affection. "Are you okay?"

You nod, squeezing his hand. "I’m more than okay. I’m with you."

As you walk towards the trampoline park, the memories of Sungchan fade into the background. What matters now is the present – the love and happiness you’ve found with Eunseok and the new friendships that have become a significant part of your life.

When you arrive at the trampoline park, it’s a kaleidoscope of colors and motion, filled with laughter and the sound of bouncing springs. As you and Eunseok enter, you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his smile infectious.

“You ready to jump?” he asks, his eyes twinkling.

You nod eagerly. “Absolutely.”

Eunseok pays for both your entrance fees and leads you towards the cubbies meant for your personal items. The two of you kick off your shoes and step onto the trampolines, the soft mats beneath your feet making you feel like you’re walking on clouds. With a playful grin, Eunseok starts bouncing, his movements light and effortless. You follow suit, giggling as you try to match his rhythm.

“Bet you can’t catch me!” you call out, jumping higher and moving to another trampoline.

“Oh, you’re on!” he replies, laughter bubbling up as he chases after you.

You both jump from one trampoline to the next, the exhilaration making your heart race. At one point, Eunseok reaches out and catches your hand, pulling you close as you both bounce together. The world around you blurs into a joyful whirlwind, and all you can focus on is the warmth of his hand in yours and the sound of his laughter.

After a while, you both decide to take a break. You find a spot to sit on the edge of the trampoline area, still holding hands. Your cheeks are flushed from the exercise and laughter, and you feel more alive than you have in a long time.

Eunseok looks at you, his expression softening. “This is fun. I’m glad we came here.”

“Me too,” you reply, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He hesitates for a moment, then takes a deep breath. “So, um… Sungchan.”

You tense slightly, but you knew this topic would come up sooner or later. You lift your head to meet his gaze, waiting for him to continue.

“His breakup with Yuri…” Eunseok says quietly. “I just… I want to make sure you’re okay. I know it’s a lot to process, and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

You smile gently, appreciating his concern. “Eunseok, this doesn’t change anything for me. Sungchan and I… we had our time, and it’s over. I’m with you now, and I’m really happy with you. I want to build something new with you, not dwell on the past.”

Relief washes over Eunseok’s face, and he pulls you into a hug. “I’m so glad to hear that,” he murmurs into your hair. “You mean a lot to me, and I just want you to be happy.”

You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes. “Thank you, Eunseok. For everything. I don’t think I’ve said it enough these past three months, but thank you for being there for me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

His smile is warm and tender. “You don’t have to thank me. I care about you a lot, and I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

You feel a swell of emotion, and you lean in to kiss him softly. It’s a sweet, lingering kiss, full of promise and affection. When you pull away, you see nothing but love and happiness in his eyes.

“Let’s keep jumping,” you say with a grin, wanting to prolong this perfect moment.

Eunseok laughs and helps you to your feet. “Let’s do it.”

Hand in hand, you return to the trampolines, ready to lose yourselves in the joy of the present. The memories of Sungchan continue to fade into the background, replaced by the bright, new memories you’re creating with Eunseok.

The sun is high in the sky, casting a warm glow over Anton’s sprawling backyard. His house, the largest in your friend group, is the perfect setting for a summer pool party. The smell of barbecue wafts through the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and splashing water.

You’re lying on a lounger, soaking up the sun with your eyes closed, enjoying the warmth on your skin. You can hear the cheerful chatter of your friends, the occasional burst of laughter, and the rhythmic splashes from the pool. Anton, ever the host, approaches, casting a shadow over you.

"Hey, are you just going to tan all day, or are you actually going to get in the pool?" Anton asks, grinning down at you.

You snort, opening one eye to look up at him. "No way. I just got my hair done."

Anton shakes his head, chuckling. "Loser," he teases before wandering off to join his swim team friends.

You laugh, watching him go. Anton’s always been the life of the party, effortlessly moving between groups and making everyone feel included. Your attention shifts as Eunseok emerges from the pool, water dripping from his hair and glistening on his toned body. He takes a seat beside you, leaning in to kiss you. You blush but indulge him, savoring the taste of his lips.

Ever since your first kiss at the trampoline park a week ago, the two of you haven’t been able to keep your hands off each other. It’s a constant source of amusement—and occasional irritation—for your friends.

"Seriously? Again?" Jake shouts in complaint from the pool, his voice dripping with mock indignation. "Get a room!"

Eunseok flips him off without breaking the kiss, making you giggle. He finally pulls back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Come on, let’s get something to eat."

He takes your hand, helping you up from the lounger. As you walk towards the house, Beomgyu and Jake make exaggerated gagging noises.

"Anton, you better clean the sheets before your parents come back!" Beomgyu calls out, laughing.

"Use protection!" Jake adds, his tone playful.

Eunseok laughs and flips off the pair, yelling over his shoulder, “fuck off!”

Yujin, ever the voice of reason, rolls her eyes at them. "Will you two grow up and find someone to lay you so you can stop riding, ____’s dick."

Inside the house, the air is cooler, a welcome relief from the heat outside. You make your way to the kitchen, where a large fruit platter awaits. Sohee, your new friend from organic chemistry, is there, arranging more food. You’d convinced Anton to invite him, thinking he’d fit in well with the group. He greets the two of you as Eunseok starts plating different food for you. Sohee lets you know he’s going out to join Anton by the pool before waving goodbye.

Eunseok picks up a piece of fruit and holds it out to you. "Here, try this."

You take a bite, savoring the sweetness. "Mmm, it’s good."

He grins and leans in, kissing you right after you swallow the pineapple. The kiss deepens quickly, and before you know it, Eunseok has you cornered against the counter, his hands roaming your body as your mouths move together in a passionate dance.

Just then, Sungchan walks in, looking for a beer. He scoffs at the sight of you and Eunseok, causing you to pull away abruptly. Eunseok places himself protectively in front of you, not wanting Sungchan to see you in your bathing suit.

"People eat in here, you know," Sungchan sneers. "You’re disgusting."

Embarrassed, you start to apologize, but Eunseok cuts you off. "Just get your beer and go, Sungchan. No need to be rude."

Sungchan doesn’t move, his eyes narrowing. He’s clearly a little tipsy and looking for a fight. You can sense the tension building and decide it’s best to defuse the situation. You tug on Eunseok’s arm. "Come on, let’s go. It’s not worth it."

Eunseok reluctantly allows you to pull him away, his eyes still locked on Sungchan. Once you’re back outside, the lively atmosphere of the pool party helps you forget the encounter. Your friends are laughing and playing games, completely oblivious to the brief confrontation inside.

Beomgyu spots you and waves you over. "Hey, come join us!"

You and Eunseok make your way to the poolside, rejoining the group. Anton is in the middle of a cannonball competition with Jake, their playful rivalry adding to the festive mood. You take a seat on the edge of the pool, dipping your feet into the cool water.

"So, what did you guys find to eat?" Karina asks, lounging on a float nearby.

"Just some fruit and maybe each other's faces," you reply, smiling smugly. "But we were rudely interrupted."

Eunseok chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Forget about him," Yujin says, rolling her eyes. "He’s just jealous."

"Yeah, probably," you agree, feeling the weight of Sungchan’s gaze still lingering in your mind. "But let’s not let him ruin our fun."

The group continues to enjoy the party, the earlier tension fading away. You watch as Eunseok dives back into the pool, joining Anton and Jake in their antics. His laughter is infectious, and you find yourself smiling, feeling grateful for the new friends and love in your life.

Eunseok soon comes out of the water and comes over to wrap a towel around your shoulders, the fabric warm and comforting against your skin. "You looked a little cold," he says softly, his hand lingering on your shoulder.

"Thanks," you reply, snuggling into the towel. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, watching the sky's colors shift from vibrant orange to a soft purple as the sun sets.

"I wanted to tell you something," Eunseok begins, his voice hesitant. "I'm moving in with Jake and Beomgyu next month for the new school year."

You blink, taken aback by the news. "What? Really?" You knew Sungchan and Eunseok's friendship had become strained the more Sungchan mistreated you, but you never thought Eunseok would leave their apartment.

Eunseok sighs, running a hand through his damp hair. "Yeah. There's no reason to stay. Sungchan's been a dick to me ever since you two stopped being friends, and I'm over it. I can't keep babying him to get him to say why he's so pissed at me."

You place a hand on his arm, offering a reassuring squeeze. "You never did anything to him, Eunseok. He's the one who's been unfair."

He smiles at you, his eyes softening. "Thanks for understanding. It means a lot."

"If you need help moving out, just shoot me a text," you offer, trying to lighten the mood.

Eunseok chuckles, his mood lifting a bit. "If you came to help, we probably wouldn't be moving things. We'd be making out."

You laugh, feeling the tension ease. "You're probably right." You stand up, brushing the sand off your legs. "I'm gonna use the bathroom, and then we can head out."

As you roam the halls of Anton's large home, you hear faint mumbling and the sound of stumbling footsteps. You turn a corner and see Sungchan, very drunk and barely able to stand. He mumbles to himself, his eyes unfocused.

You hesitate, debating whether to help him or not. Against your better judgment, you approach him. "Sungchan, are you okay?"

He looks at you, his eyes watery and confused. "I'm... I'm fine," he slurs, but then he nearly falls over.

You catch him just in time, steadying him. "Come on, let's get you to a bedroom." You guide him to the nearest room, setting him down on the bed. He clings to you, his tears flowing freely.

"I miss you," he cries, his voice broken. "I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have put Yuri first. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

You try to calm him down, patting his back gently. "It's okay, Sungchan. I'm over it."

He shakes his head, his grip tightening. "No, you're not. I know you. You're still hurt, and I'm sorry."

You nod, feeling anxious with how unconsolable he is. "Okay, all is forgiven."

He pauses, his sobs quieting for a moment. "Will you be at my birthday? You've never missed one."

You feel as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped on you. You had completely forgotten about Sungchan's birthday. You glance at a calendar in the room and see that it's August 24th. His birthday is in a little over two weeks.

Lost in your thoughts, you struggle to understand how you forgot something that used to mean so much to you. You also take a moment to acknowledge that he's drunk and might not actually want you at the party. But at the same time, you realize that if you don't go, it might really signify the end of your friendship.

"I'll think about it," you finally say.

Sungchan looks at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I envy Eunseok."

You're confused. "Why?"

He sighs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because he had the balls to do what I was always too scared to do."

Your heart races, shock and anger flooding your system. Sungchan starts to lean in as if to kiss you, but then the door swings open, and Eunseok walks in.

"Eunseok!" you exclaim, scooting back quickly.

Eunseok's eyes darken as he takes in the scene. "What's going on?" he asks, his voice tense. He strides over, grabbing Sungchan by the collar of his shirt.

"Nothing happened," you say quickly, stepping between them. "He's drunk."

Eunseok looks at you, his jaw clenched, and then back at Sungchan. After a tense moment, he lets go, taking a step back. "Let's get out of here," he says, his voice tight.

You nod, taking Eunseok's hand and leading him out of the room, leaving Sungchan behind. As you walk down the hallway, you can feel the anger radiating off of Eunseok.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

"It's not your fault," he replies, his voice softening. "Let's just go."

As you step outside, the cool night air hits you, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart and mind. Eunseok pulls you close, wrapping an arm around you protectively.

"I don't feel comfortable with Sungchan around you," he admits, his voice low and tense.

You stop walking and turn to face him, holding his gaze. "Nothing happened, Eunseok. He’s drunk and upset. I just helped him because I felt bad seeing him like that."

Eunseok's eyes search yours, his frustration evident. "Then why was he leaning in to kiss you?"

You hesitate, the words you shared with Sungchan replaying in your mind. "I... I don’t know," you finally say, averting your eyes.

Eunseok's expression tightens, a mix of hurt and anger flashing across his face. "You don't know?"

Silence hangs heavy between you, the tension almost palpable. "Whatever," he mutters, turning away. "Let's just go."

The drive to your dorm is tense and awkward, the silence thick with unspoken words. You glance over at Eunseok, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. Your mind drifts back to the conversation with Sungchan, replaying his drunken confession and how upset you were by it.

How dare he say he envies Eunseok? This is the same Sungchan who told you that your feelings for him disgusted him, who pushed you away and left you heartbroken. Now he’s jealous that Eunseok had the courage to be honest about his emotions? It's complete bull, and the more you think about it, the angrier you become.

You try to shake off the thoughts, but they cling to you like a shadow. The car ride stretches on, the silence deafening. You steal glances at Eunseok, wanting to say something, anything, to break the tension, but the words won’t come.

When you finally reach your dorm for the summer, the weight of the evening presses down on you. Eunseok parks the car and gets out, walking you to your door like he always does. The silence between you feels almost unbearable.

"Eunseok," you start, reaching for his hand, but he pulls away, his frustration evident.

"I just need some space right now," he says, his voice strained.

Fear grips your heart. "Are you... are you breaking up with me?”

His expression softens slightly, and he shakes his head. "No, I’m not breaking up with you. I'm still very much into you and our relationship. But it's clear you're hiding something, and until you’re ready to be honest with me, I need some space."

Tears well up in your eyes as he steps closer, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Make sure you eat something before going to bed," he murmurs, his voice softer now. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," you whisper back, watching as he turns and walks away.

You enter your dorm, the silence of the empty room echoing the silence that had filled the car. You collapse onto your bed, the events of the night swirling in your mind.

As you lie there, you realize that despite everything, you need to be honest with Eunseok. He deserves to know the truth, even if it’s painful. But for now, you need to process everything that happened and figure out how to tell him.

You curl up on your bed, feeling the emptiness of the room around you. The conversation with Sungchan plays over and over in your mind, his tearful apologies, his regrets, and his jealousy of Eunseok. It all feels so surreal, like a bad dream you can’t wake up from.

Eventually, exhaustion takes over, and you drift off to sleep, hoping that tomorrow will bring some clarity and a chance to make things right.

The following morning you wake up to a ding from your phone. You groggily reach for the device and see a string of text messages from Eunseok. Your heart skips a beat as you open the first one.

[seokie 🪨]: I'm sorry

[seokie🪨]: I fully trust you. If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened.

Relief washes over you as you read the third message.

[seokie🪨]: Are we okay?

You feel a mix of relief and guilt. He's not mad, but you still haven't been completely honest with him. You quickly type a response, your fingers trembling slightly.

[you]: we're good. can i come over?

His reply is almost immediate.

[seokie🪨]: Of course. Do you want me to pick you up?

You smile, shaking your head as you respond.

[you]: no need, i'll walk it's not far

You get ready, feeling a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. When you arrive at his place, Eunseok greets you with a kiss, his touch warm and reassuring.

"I have a surprise for you," he says, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Curiosity piqued, you follow him into the kitchen, where you're met with an array of baking items laid out on the counter. Your heart swells with emotion, remembering how you once told him about your love for baking to ease stress.

"You remembered," you say, touched. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," you repeat, kissing him.

Eunseok smiles, his eyes twinkling. "I know you already forgave me, but I wanted to do something nice for you anyway."

The two of you start baking a cake, following a recipe Eunseok had found. You're impressed by his dedication to measuring out the exact portions, his concentration making you smile.

"Where did you find this recipe?" you ask, amused by his precision.

"Pinterest," he replies, grinning. "Seemed like a good one."

Once everything is mixed and the cake is in the oven, you sit on the counter and Eunseok steps between your legs, his hands resting on your hips.

"Where do you see our relationship going?" he asks, his voice soft but serious. "I know it's early, but I really like you."

You look into his eyes, feeling the sincerity in his words. "I like you too, Eunseok. I see us going far. I want to keep exploring this."

He smiles, relieved. "What about your living situation next semester? Are you still moving in with Yujin and Karina?"

You nod. "Yeah, I am. It'll be nice to have some independence and be with friends."

Eunseok leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "I'm glad. I want you to be happy."

You smile, feeling a playful urge. "Speaking of happy," you say, grabbing a handful of flour and tossing it at him.

Eunseok laughs, grabbing some flour and tossing it back at you. A full-blown flour fight ensues, both of you laughing and dodging each other's attacks. You relent when you see you're losing, flour and batter everywhere.

Eunseok takes your hand. "Let's get cleaned up."

He leads you to his bedroom, and you start to undress. He begins to leave to give you privacy, but you catch his arm.

"Join me?" you ask, your voice soft and inviting.

He hesitates for a moment, then nods, a smile playing on his lips. You take his hand and walk into the bathroom, you get into the shower first and look at him, completely vulnerable as he stares at your naked body.

He’s quick to strip and then steps into the shower with you, pressing you against the wall, his mouth already on yours. A wanton moan leaves your lips when he slides his hands down your sides as he tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss. He places a hand on your right breast playing with it, he lightly pinches and rolls your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

You moan against his mouth which causes him to smirk before pulling away and angling his head down until his lips wrapped around your right nipple, which he had neglected before, sucking gently. His tongue swirls around the flesh and his teeth graze over your nipple.

“Please don’t stop.” You breathily whine, caught up in the feeling of your boyfriend sending you over the edge.

He slowly pulls away from your chest and places one last kiss on your lips. “We don’t want our cake to burn.”

He steps away from you completely and gets to work on lathering your body with his wash. You lift your eyes to look at him but he doesn’t return your gaze and continues to wash your body. You pout deeply and reach out to grab his hand to place back on your breast.

“Seok please!”

Eunseok remains expressionless for a few seconds until a small smile creeps up his face. His hand roughly squeezes the breast it’s resting on before he snakes his way up your body again and you think it’s to hold you steady by your shoulder, but you gasp when he seizes his large hand over your throat.

“Eun—”

He squeezes your neck and you moan, hands flying to grab his wrist. “Don’t be a brat.”

He gives you one more warning squeeze before pulling his hand away from your neck. Feeling dejected and slightly annoyed you stand still and let him finish bathing you.

Once he finishes rinsing the soap off your body and washing down his own body and hair, the two of you exit the bathroom. Eunseok dresses you in one of his shirts and a pair of sweats. "You look good in my clothes," he teases, kissing your forehead.

"Is Sungchan home?" you ask, suddenly remembering the previous night's tension.

"No," Eunseok replies, shaking his head. "He went out with friends."

You feel a bit more at ease as you head back to the kitchen to decorate the cake. Despite your best efforts, it turns out looking a bit discombobulated, but the laughter and fun make it worth it.

"At least it tastes good," you say, taking a bite and grinning.

Eunseok laughs, nodding. "We tried."

He grabs some boxed wine, and the two of you sit on the couch. You take a deep breath, deciding to finally be honest with him.

"About last night," you start, your voice trembling slightly. "Sungchan was really drunk. He... he told me he misses me and that he's sorry. He said he envies you because you had the courage to do what he couldn't."

Eunseok's expression darkens, but he nods for you to continue. "How do you feel about all this?"

"Angry," you admit, tears pricking at your eyes. "He told me my feelings for him disgusted him, and now he's jealous?"

Eunseok sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Are you going to his birthday party?"

You hesitate, unsure how to respond. "I feel like I should," you finally say. "For closure."

Eunseok's jaw tightens. "I would prefer if you didn't."

You frown, frustration bubbling up. "I have to go, Eunseok. We were friends for years. I need to hear him out."

He shakes his head, his frustration evident. "You don't have to do anything. You want to go, and I wish you could be honest about that."

Your eyes narrow, feeling a surge of anger. "We’ve been friends for years, I can’t just act like he means nothing just because a few months have passed!”

Eunseok's eyes flash with frustration. "A few months? He treated you like crap, and now you're willing to just forgive him because he’s drunk and feeling sorry for himself?"

You stand up, pacing the room. "It's not about forgiving him, Eunseok. It's about closure. I need to understand why he did what he did."

"Why do you need closure from someone who hurt you so badly?" Eunseok snaps, standing up as well. "He had his chance, and he blew it."

You turn to face him, your own anger rising. "You don't understand. He was my best friend. I need to at least try to get some answers."

Eunseok takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "And what if he tries to pull something again? What if he says more things to mess with your head?"

"I can handle it," you insist. "I need to do this for myself."

He shakes his head, his expression a mix of anger and hurt. "You’re not listening to me. I'm telling you this isn't a good idea."

"And I'm telling you that I have to go," you say, your voice firm.

Eunseok's face hardens. "Fine. Do what you want. But don't expect me to be okay with it."

"Why can't you support me on this?" you plead, feeling a knot of frustration and desperation tighten in your chest.

"Because I care about you!" he shouts, his voice echoing in the small space. "I don't want to see you get hurt again."

You feel tears welling up, but you blink them back. "I care about you too, but this is something I need to do."

Eunseok clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white. "Then go. But don't expect me to be waiting here with open arms."

You stand there for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. "I didn't think you'd be so controlling," you whisper, hurt evident in your voice.

His eyes widen with a mix of shock and anger. "Controlling? I'm trying to protect you!"

"I don't need protection from you," you snap back. "I need understanding."

Eunseok glares at you, his jaw tight. "Well, I guess we’re at an impasse."

"Yeah," you agree, your voice shaky. "I guess we are."

Without another word, you grab your things and head for the door. Eunseok doesn’t stop you, and the silence is deafening as you walk away. Just as you’re about to step out, you hear him mutter something under his breath, but you can’t make it out. 

You leave, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. You wanted today to be a step towards healing, but now it feels like everything is falling apart.

Eunseok watches you go, his heart heavy with frustration and regret. He grabs the boxed wine, takes a long drink, and slams it down on the coffee table, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

You storm into Sohee's dorm room, your anger radiating off you in waves. "Can you believe that? He thinks he owns me or something!"

Sohee looks up from his desk, concern etched across his face. "What happened?" he asks, motioning for you to sit down.

You start pacing instead, the words spilling out in a rush. "Eunseok and I had this huge argument. He doesn’t want me to go to Sungchan’s birthday party. I told him I need closure, but he’s acting like I’m betraying him or something."

Sohee listens intently, his brow furrowing as he takes in your words. When you finally stop to catch your breath, he leans back in his chair, considering his response carefully. "Okay, let's break this down. Eunseok is your boyfriend now, right? So, naturally, he's going to be protective."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "Protective? It feels more like he’s being controlling. He doesn’t get to tell me what to do."

Sohee shakes his head. "It's not that simple. Eunseok was just looking out for you. It’s not wrong for him to be upset about you wanting to go see Sungchan—the very guy who hurt you. Put yourself in his shoes. How would you feel if he wanted to hang out with an ex who hurt him?"

You pause, the anger starting to ebb as you think about it. "I... I guess I’d feel pretty insecure."

"Exactly," Sohee says, leaning forward. "You’re dating Eunseok now. Of course, it won’t make him happy to see his girlfriend run into the arms of the man she loved for years, especially now that Sungchan is saying those feelings are returned."

Your shoulders slump, and you let out a sigh. "I didn’t think about it like that. I just... I need closure. I need to understand why Sungchan did what he did."

Sohee gives you a sympathetic look. "I get that. But if you really feel like going to Sungchan’s party is the only way you can move on, then maybe you shouldn’t be dating Eunseok right now. It’s clear you have more things to work through."

"That’s not fair," you protest, tears pricking at your eyes. "I really love Eunseok, but I need to know why Sungchan chose to hurt me that way."

"So ask him," Sohee says gently. "There’s no need to feed into something Sungchan wants. Just ask him directly. That way, you get the answers you need without disrespecting your relationship with Eunseok."

You sit down, the weight of Sohee’s words settling over you. "You’re right. I should just ask him."

Sohee smiles, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You can do this. And remember, Eunseok loves you. He’s just trying to protect you."

Feeling more resolved, you pull out your phone and text Sungchan.

[you]: hey, are you free? i need to talk to you

You send the message and take a deep breath, hoping this will help you find the closure you need without jeopardizing your relationship with Eunseok. Sohee watches you, a supportive presence in the midst of your turmoil. "Good luck," he says softly. "I know it’s not easy, but you’ll get through this."

You nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Thanks, Sohee. I really needed to hear that."

"Anytime," he replies with a warm smile. "Just remember, you’re not alone in this. You’ve got people who care about you."

You nod, feeling a bit lighter. "I know. And I’m going to make things right with Eunseok."

"That’s the spirit," Sohee says, giving you an encouraging thumbs-up. "Go get 'em."

You and Sohee continue to chat, your conversation shifting to lighter topics as you unwind from the emotional turmoil of the past few days. As you talk about your plans for the upcoming semester and some of the fun things you’ve got planned with your friends, your phone buzzes with a notification. It’s a message from Sungchan.

[sungchan]: i'm free tomorrow

[sungchan]: how about we meet at 3?

You glance at Sohee, who raises an eyebrow in question. "Sungchan says he’s free tomorrow at 3. I guess it’s happening."

Sohee nods. "Good. Get it out of the way so you can move forward."

You quickly type back a reply, agreeing to meet Sungchan at the boba shop near campus. "It’s set," you say, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. "I’m meeting him tomorrow."

Sohee gives you a reassuring nod. "You'll do fine. Just stay honest and keep your cool."

You smile, grateful for his support. "Thanks, Sohee. By the way, do you think you could help me pick out a gift for him?"

Sohee looks surprised. "A gift? For Sungchan? Why?"

"It’s a parting gift," you explain, your voice soft. "Something to signify the end of our friendship, in a way. I just want to leave things on a good note."

Sohee sighs but eventually nods. "Alright. I get it. Let’s go to Target and see what we can find."

The two of you head to Target, wandering through the aisles as you think about what to get Sungchan. You want it to be something meaningful, something that represents your time together. As you pass the toy section, your eyes land on a LEGO set, and a memory from your childhood flashes before you.

"This is perfect," you say, picking up the box.

Sohee looks at it curiously. "A LEGO set? What’s the importance behind it?"

"It was the first one we built together," you explain, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "The first time I ever went to his house. It seems like a fitting end for us."

Sohee nods, understanding. "That’s a good idea. It’s personal and meaningful."

You also grab a card, planning to write Sungchan a note to go along with the gift. As you make your way to the checkout, Sohee gives you an encouraging smile. "You’re doing the right thing."

"I hope so," you reply, feeling a mix of emotions. "I just want closure."

After paying for the LEGO set and the card, you and Sohee leave Target and decide to get some food together. Sitting in a cozy corner of a small café, you talk about everything and nothing, trying to keep your mind off the upcoming meeting with Sungchan.

"So, are you nervous about tomorrow?" Sohee asks, sipping his coffee.

"A little," you admit, stirring your drink absentmindedly. "But I think it’ll be good for me. I need to understand why he hurt me the way he did."

Sohee nods thoughtfully. "Just remember to stay calm. Don’t let him get under your skin. You’re doing this for you, not for him."

"Yeah," you agree. "Thanks, Sohee. For everything."

"Anytime," he says with a grin. "That’s what friends are for."

You spend the rest of the afternoon chatting and laughing, the heavy weight of your worries lifting slightly with each passing moment. By the time you part ways, you feel a bit more prepared for the conversation with Sungchan.

___

The next day arrives, and you find yourself standing outside the boba shop, clutching the bag with Sungchan’s gift inside. Taking a deep breath, you push open the door and step inside.

Sungchan is already seated at a corner table, looking pensive. When he sees you, he gives a small, hesitant smile. You walk over and sit down across from him, setting the bag on the table.

"Hey," you say softly.

"Hey," he replies, his eyes darting to the bag. "What’s that?"

"It’s a gift," you say, pushing it towards him. "Happy early birthday."

He looks surprised but takes the bag, pulling out the LEGO set. His eyes widen in recognition, and a sad smile forms on his lips. "I remember this. The first one we built together."

"Yeah," you say, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I thought it was a good way to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Sungchan's eyes widen in surprise.

You nod, your expression serious. "What you did those three months ago wasn’t fair, and what you pulled at the party most definitely wasn’t okay. I’m only here to hear you explain yourself so I can move on. Eunseok has been good to me, and he doesn’t deserve me half-assing our relationship."

Sungchan nods, looking down at the table. "I meant what I said at Anton’s. I am sorry for pushing you away."

You shut it down, your voice firm. "I don’t want an apology or any excuses, Sungchan. I want an explanation."

He clears his throat, his voice shaky. "I started crushing on you when we were in high school, but I didn’t say anything because I was scared I would mess things up."

You cut in, your tone sharp. "Oh, so leading me on for years was the better option?"

"No," Sungchan says, shaking his head. "It was cruel, and I should have just been honest, but I didn’t want to lose my best friend. I thought if I told you how I felt and it didn’t work out, I would have lost you for no reason. But if I gave you the hope we could be something, at least you would stick around."

Your heart aches, feeling betrayed. "Was it worth it? Because you’ve lost me anyway."

He looks down, his face full of regret. "No, it wasn’t worth it. I’m sorry."

You shrug off his apology, determined to get to the bottom of things. "And what about Yuri? Why date Yuri if you apparently like me?"

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought it was time to move on. I didn’t have the guts to be honest after all these years, so why keep leading you on? When you and Eunseok started dating, it made me angry. It took Eunseok a week to do something I’d been dreaming of for years. It’s not right, and I’m not trying to excuse it, but that’s why I did it."

Your anger flares. "You think that justifies anything? You hurt me, Sungchan. You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. And then you have the nerve to act jealous when I finally find someone who cares about me?"

He looks up, his eyes filled with remorse. "I know I was wrong. I was selfish and scared, and I took it out on you. I’m truly sorry."

You shake your head, tears of frustration and betrayal welling up. "I trusted you. I thought you were my friend. But you were just playing me for years."

"No," he protests weakly. "I wasn’t playing you. I cared about you. I still do."

"It doesn’t matter," you say, your voice breaking. "You were never my friend. A real friend wouldn’t have done what you did. And I’m fine with us no longer being in each other’s lives."

Silence falls between you, heavy and suffocating. Sungchan looks like he wants to say something, but you’ve heard enough. You stand up, your heart aching but resolute.

"Goodbye, Sungchan," you say, your voice firm.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with regret. "Goodbye."

You turn and walk out of the boba shop, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of the past few months feels heavy on your shoulders, but with each step, you feel a little bit lighter. You know it’ll take time to heal, but you’ve taken the first step towards moving on.

As you walk back to your place, you think about Eunseok and how much he means to you. You know you need to make things right with him, to show him that you’re committed to your relationship.

When you get home, you take a deep breath and pick up your phone, texting Eunseok.

[you]: can we talk? i need to explain everything

His reply is immediate.

[seokie 🪨]: Of course. Come over whenever you’re ready.

You gather your thoughts, feeling a mix of nerves and determination. You know it won’t be easy, but you’re ready to fight for your relationship with Eunseok. You grab your keys and head out the door.

The walk to Eunseok's place is brisk, each step echoing your anxious thoughts. When you arrive, you hesitate for a moment before knocking on his door. He opens it almost immediately, his expression a mix of concern and hope.

"Hey," he says softly, stepping aside to let you in.

"Hey," you reply, trying to muster a smile.

The tension is palpable as you both make your way to the living room, sitting down on opposite ends of the couch.

For a few moments, the silence hangs heavy between you. Finally, you take a deep breath and decide to break it.

“Eunseok, I’m really sorry for how I behaved last night. I was out of line, and I didn’t mean to make you feel like your feelings didn’t matter."

He looks at you, his expression softening slightly, but there’s still a hint of tension in his eyes. "I appreciate that.”

You nod before carefully adding, “…I also met with Sungchan today.”

Eunseok's jaw tightens, and his eyes flash with annoyance, but he stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

"I needed closure," you explain. "I needed to understand why he did what he did. And... I needed to make sure I was fully committed to us."

Eunseok nods slowly, his gaze fixed on you.

"And did you get the closure you needed?"

You nod, feeling the weight of the past few months lifting slightly. "| did. I realized that he was never really my friend. He was just... scared and selfish. And while that hurt, it also made me see things clearly. Eunseok, our relationship means so much to me. I want to make you my priority."

Eunseok's expression softens yet again and he reaches out, taking your hand in his. "I'm sorry too, for how l approached the conversation yesterday. I was just... scared of losing you. I know it's not an excuse, but I should have handled it better."

You squeeze his hand, feeling a surge of relief and affection. "I understand. And I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I promise, from now on, I'll be more open with you. No more secrets."

Eunseok pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I'm just glad we're talking about this. I don't want to lose you either."

You bury your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "You won't. I promise."

As you hold onto him, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. Eunseok is the one who’s always been there for you, and you’re grateful for that. A small part of you even feels thankful to Sungchan for breaking your heart because everything he didn’t say and do led you to Eunseok.

Pulling back slightly, you look into Eunseok’s eyes, feeling a surge of affection. "I’m really happy you’re my person, Eunseok."

He smiles, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And I’m happy you’re mine."

In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you and Eunseok will face them together. Your past with Sungchan is behind you, and your future with Eunseok looks bright and full of promise.