#i was talking about this to a friend the other day and it's been stuck in my head ever since

[the-tiny-mia]

Of Spilled Drinks and Spilled Truths (H.S One Shot +18)

General Masterlist

Summary: A weekend getaway with friends was supposed to be a break, but for Y/N and Harry, it becomes a turning point. After years of friendship riddled with unresolved feelings, some heated arguments gives way to confessions neither of them expected.

A/n: Hello, my loves! Here’s a smutty one shot with some good friends to enemies to lovers plot, i hope you all enjoy this!

Word count: 9.2k

Warnings: Smut, spitting, some confrontation between friends.

You needed a break—a well-deserved one. So when the group chat lit up with the message, “Roadtrip to Willowmist!” your eyes widened with excitement. Your 9-to-5 office job had been grinding you down, inch by inch, to the point where you’d even started contemplating quitting. But there were bills to pay: rent, groceries, your beat-up car, and a never-ending list of expenses that wouldn’t magically disappear.

Every year, you and your friends planned a road trip. And every couple of years, that road trip led to Willowmist—the cozy cabin owned by Eliza’s parents, who were generous enough to let your group use it whenever you needed an escape and the timing was perfect: it was May. The weather sat comfortably between warm and cool, ideal for hiking, swimming, and late-night bonfires.

Your friend group was a patchwork of personalities, a collection of memories, and an unshakable bond. Four girls and three boys: Aurora, Eliza, Harper, and you; Theo, Jasper, and Harry rounded out the crew. You’d been inseparable since high school. Even as life pulled you to different colleges and jobs, you’d stayed close, bound by shared histories and inside jokes that no one else could ever understand. At this point, you all knew too much about one another to ever drift apart—let alone become enemies. Normally, the trip always included all seven of you—plus the occasional “I’m seeing someone, can they come?” that inevitably added a new face to the mix.

You remembered how Aurora’s heart had been broken a dozen times (and how she still threw herself into love with reckless optimism), or the time Theo tripped and landed face-first in mud on the way to prom. Then there was Harper and Jasper’s ill-fated kiss—a spur-of-the-moment thing that had ended with Harper nearly gagging because, as she later admitted, she was into girls. None of you had known it at the time, but looking back, it made perfect sense.

And then there was you and Harry—the “typical friends” who, back in high school, everyone loved to tease about how cute of a couple you’d make. But that idea never quite stuck with either of you. After Aurora, Harry was the one you were closest to in the group. He was the friend you’d call and put on speaker whenever an Uber driver seemed a bit too sketchy. He was also the one who knew exactly how stubborn and moody you could get—and somehow, he never seemed to mind. Until recently. Lately, you and Harry had been clashing more often—not full-blown fights, but tense discussions that always seemed to end with you sighing, "I don’t really want to talk about this anymore," just to avoid things escalating into something worse. You weren’t entirely sure what had changed, but lately, Harry seemed irritated by almost everything you said. If you shared a funny video, he’d roll his eyes and mutter, “That’s lame. How can you even think that’s funny?” Or there was the time he showed you a picture of a redhead, casually mentioning, “This girl winked at me the other day,” to which you snapped back, “And? Like that means anything?” It was like every little exchange between you two had turned into a spark waiting to ignite.

The rest of the group had definitely noticed the growing tension between you and Harry. Whenever one of your “discussions” started, they’d jump in to ease the mood, steering the conversation before it could get too heated. Still, you couldn’t deny that you missed the late-night calls with him—those moments when you could rant about things that felt too personal or odd to share in public. But then again, you were stubborn. And giving in first? That just wasn’t your style.

Aurora: WILLOWMIST??? I’M IN!

Harper: I’m still seeing Becca. Can she come?

Eliza: Yes, of course! We have my car and Theo’s, but he’s bringing Cassie plus the food. I think we might need another car just in case.

Harry: Mine’s available too.

Theo: That’s settled then. Let’s meet at my place on Friday to arrange everything—rooms, cars, food, etc.

Aurora: YAY! I’m so excited!! You were excited. You always had a great time on the annual road trip. Now all that was left was to ask your boss for vacation time, and in three weeks, you’d be enjoying margaritas with the girls while the boys attempted their best backflips into the lake—or whatever crazy stunt they wanted. You just needed a break.

When Friday arrived, you all gathered at Theo’s apartment, greeted everyone, and slid onto the couch next to Harry.

“What’s up, idiot?” he said, nudging your shoulder.

“What’s up, arsehole?” you replied with a smile.

This banter was your usual rhythm—teasing and familiar—but somewhere between these playful jabs and the more serious arguments, the line was starting to blur.

“Okayyy, here it is,” Eliza announced, passing around a sheet of paper. She was crazy organized when it came to the annual trip—laid out in neat detail were all the meals, groceries, how much each person would pay, gas expenses for each car, liquor—everything.

“This looks better than ever,” Jasper said. “What about the cars? Which one am I in?”

“You’re with most of the food—Cassie and Theo—in his car,” Eliza replied. “I’m with Harper, Aurora, and Becca. And Y/N goes with Harry in his car.”

Everyone turned to look at both of you with unreadable expressions. You and Harry exchanged glances, then looked back at the group.

“What?” you both said in unison.

“Nothing,” they murmured, and you frowned, sensing they knew something you didn’t.

As everyone agreed on Eliza’s plan, the group scattered—grabbing beers and drifting into conversations about everything and nothing. You found yourself in the kitchen with Harper, listening to Aurora ramble on about some new guy, laughing every time Aurora made one of those hopelessly smitten faces.

“Why don’t you just invite him?” you asked.

“Oh no, we’re not there yet,” Aurora replied. “BUT WE WILL BE.” And there was that face again.

“Rori… get a grip,” Harper said with a chuckle, taking a sip of her beer.

Aurora made a mock glare at Harper and sighed. “Are you sure you want to ride with Harry? I can switch spots with you.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” you asked, confused.

“You two have been fighting a lot,” Harper said.

“Yeah, well, he’s been annoying lately. But if he can manage to not be annoying for four hours, I think I’m good,” you said with a casual shrug, as if it was no big deal.

“Right…” Harper said, smirking. “You both just need to shut up for four hours.” She chuckled, then flinched as Aurora playfully pinched her arm.

“Hey!” Harper protested.

“Girls,” you said, waving off the tension, “I swear it’s fine. Yeah, we’re not getting along like we used to, but that’s okay. We’re not going to kill each other in four hours.”

Harper laughed. “Well, if you say so. Just don’t come crying to us when you two end up yelling at each other halfway there.”

Aurora rolled her eyes but smiled. “Honestly, I think you guys need this trip more than anyone. Maybe some fresh air will remind you why you’ve been friends all these years.”

You glanced at Harry across the room, who was chatting quietly with Jasper. Despite the tension, you could still see that familiar spark in his eyes—the same one from all those years of friendship.

“Yeah,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Maybe this trip is exactly what we need.”

The thought made you feel a little lighter. For now, you pushed the worries aside and joined the others, ready to enjoy the night.

The night was winding down, and the group was slowly saying their goodbyes. You and Harry ended up together by his car, the quiet tension between you still lingering.

“Want a ride home?” he asked, opening the door for you.

You nodded and slid into the passenger seat. As he started the engine, there was a brief silence before he glanced over and said casually, “So, maybe after this trip, you’ll finally admit I was right about everything.”

You blinked, caught off guard, and opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Aurora’s voice came through the open window from where she was standing nearby.

“I think I’m taking Y/N home tonight. Don’t want you two turning a simple ride into a battlefield,” she said, opening your door.

Harry shot her a quick look, a half-smile tugging at his lips, and you let out an angry breath as his car left the driveway. “Are you sure you don’t want to switch places with me?” said Aurora going to her car “I’m sure, i’ll just get distracted with music or maybe i’ll sleep” you said

🌷

The morning of the road trip was crisp and buzzing with excitement as everyone gathered at Jasper’s house. The driveway was a chaotic blend of backpacks, duffle bags, and coolers being shuffled between the cars. Harper and Becca were already snapping pictures by the front steps, while Eliza checked her meticulously detailed list for what felt like the tenth time.

“Alright, everyone, let’s make sure we’re not forgetting anything,” Eliza called, waving the list like a baton. “Food? Packed. Gas? Topped up. Harry?”

“What about me?” Harry asked, lugging a box of snacks toward his car.

“Just making sure you’re actually listening" Eliza teased, earning a small chuckle from Jasper.

“Y/N, have you met Becca yet?” Harper called out, motioning you over while Harry busied himself adjusting something in the trunk.

“Not officially,” you said, walking over.

“This is Becca, my girlfriend,” Harper said, her tone warm with pride. “Becca, this is Y/N, one of the best people I know, though a little too stubborn for her own good.”

You laughed and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Becca. Anyone who can put up with Harper’s karaoke marathons gets my respect.”

Becca chuckled, shaking your hand. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard plenty about this trip—it sounds like a blast.”

“Oh, it will be,” Eliza  chimed in as she passed by, lugging a cooler. “Especially once we start roasting Theo at the bonfire. It’s tradition.” Across the driveway, Cassie leaned over to Aurora with a sly grin. “Hey, is it just me, or is there something weird going on between Y/N and Harry?”

Aurora raised an eyebrow but didn’t look surprised. “Weird how?”

“I don’t know,” Cassie said, glancing toward Harry, who was now arguing with Theo about fitting a cooler into his car. “It’s like... charged, you know? Are they a thing?”

Aurora laughed, loud enough to catch your attention for a second before she waved you off. “Harry and Y/N? Please. They’ve been like that since high school. It’s their love language—bickering and driving each other insane.”

Cassie smirked. “So they’re not a thing?”

“Nope. They are now in an “i hate you” mood but give it time,” Aurora said with a wink before walking off to join Eliza.

Back by Harry’s car, he closed the trunk with a loud thud and looked at you expectantly. “Ready, or are you going to keep bonding with Harper’s girlfriend all morning?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m all yours for the next four hours. Try not to cry from excitement.”

Harry smirked, opening the driver’s side door. “Trust me, I’ll manage.”

“Alright, people!” Theo’s voice boomed as he clapped his hands together. “Let’s hit the road before Eliza has a heart attack over her schedule.”

Everyone laughed as the final bags were loaded and doors slammed shut. As you buckled up, you heard Aurora shout from across the driveway, “Remember, no fighting! Or at least wait until we’re all out of earshot!”

The group chuckled as the caravan of cars started rolling out. You couldn’t help but glance at Harry, who had a small, knowing smile on his face.

This was going to be a long drive.

The morning sun was starting to peek over the horizon as Harry’s car merged onto the highway. The steady hum of the engine filled the silence between you, and for a while, neither of you said a word.

You stared out the window, watching the trees blur by. Harry tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the road. The silence was heavy but not unbearable—at least, not yet.

“You want music or something?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Sure,” you said, reaching for the aux cable. You scrolled through your playlist, finally settling on something upbeat to lighten the mood. The opening chords of a pop song filled the car, and Harry let out a dramatic groan.

“This? Really?” he said, glancing at you with mock disapproval.

“What’s wrong with this?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s just… basic,” he said with a smirk.

You scoffed. “Coming from the guy who listens to dad rock like it’s still the ’80s?”

“Excuse me, dad rock is timeless,” he said, and for a moment, the tension lifted as you both chuckled.

A few minutes later, he glanced over at you. “So, are we going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” you said, feigning ignorance.

“The fact that we’ve can’t get along for weeks now,” he said bluntly.

You stiffened in your seat, not expecting him to bring it up so soon—or at all. “I didn’t know there was anything to talk about,” you said, keeping your tone light.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You know what I mean. It’s like… everything I say pisses you off lately. And everything you say—”

“makes sense?” you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended.

He glanced at you briefly before turning back to the road. The silence returned, heavier this time. The song ended, and the playlist moved on to another track, but neither of you made a move to acknowledge it. After a while, Harry spoke again, softer this time. “Look, I don’t want this trip to suck because we can’t figure out how to talk to each other anymore.”

You looked at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights. “Me neither,” you admitted quietly.

It wasn’t an apology, not yet, but it was a start.

🌷

Eliza’s car was buzzing with chatter and laughter as they sped along the highway. Aurora was leaning back with her feet propped up on the dashboard, while Harper and Becca were cozied up in the backseat. Music played softly in the background, but the main soundtrack was their conversation.

“So,” Aurora began, twisting in her seat to look at the others. “Is it just me, or is something definitely brewing between Y/N and Harry?”

Harper chuckled, resting her head on Beccar’s shoulder. “Brewing, as in tension so thick you could cut it with a knife? or brewing as if they are probably becoming the biggest enemies ever?”

“Exactly!” Aurora exclaimed, waving her hand dramatically. “They’ve been at each other’s throats, but like… there’s something there, right?” 

Harper rolled her eyes but smirked. “Oh, totally. Y/N swears it’s just because Harry’s being ‘annoying,’ but she gets so worked up over it. You don’t react like that unless you care.”

“Or unless he’s genuinely annoying,” Becca teased

Eliza, who had been quietly listening, finally chimed in. “Okay, okay, but hear me out—I might know something.”

All three of them turned to her, eyes wide with curiosity.

“What do you mean ‘know something’?” Harper pressed, leaning forward in her seat.

“Well…” Eliza hesitated, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Remember last year’s trip to Brighton?”

“Yeah?” Aurora said, practically bouncing in her seat.

“I overheard Harry talking to Theo one night,” Eliza said, glancing at the others for dramatic effect. “He said something like, ‘It’s frustrating how she doesn’t see it.’”

“See what?” Aurora gasped, clutching her chest as though this were the most scandalous thing she’d ever heard. “”She” as in Y/N?”

“That’s the thing—I don’t know!” Eliza replied, laughing. “But he sounded serious. And you know Harry never talks about his feelings unless he’s pushed to the brink. AND, who would he be talking about to Theo?

Harper’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, that’s interesting...What if he’s into her and just doesn’t know how to deal with it?”

“That would explain why they’ve been so weird lately,” Becca added. “It’s like they’re trying to keep things normal, but it’s not working.”

Aurora clapped her hands together. “This is better than a rom-com. I’m calling it now—they’re either going to kill each other or finally kiss on this trip.”

“I’m betting on the kiss,” Eliza said with a knowing smirk.

“Should we meddle?” Harper asked, half-joking.

“Absolutely not,” Eliza said, shaking her head. “They need to figure this out on their own. Besides, the fireworks are way more fun to watch from the sidelines.”

The car erupted into laughter as they all imagined the chaos that might unfold, their gossip making the drive pass in no time.

🌷

The hum of the car engine filled the silence between you and Harry. The tension was palpable, like a balloon stretched too tight, ready to pop at the slightest provocation. Both of you seemed acutely aware of it, navigating this territory of forced civility.

“So,” you started, fiddling with the zipper of your jacket. “Eliza’s car looked packed. Wonder if they’ll even have room for their bags once they hit the liquor store.”

Harry let out a dry chuckle, his eyes focused on the road. “Knowing Eliza, she’s already calculated the exact cubic inches of trunk space available.”

You smiled slightly but didn’t laugh. “Yeah… probably.”

Another beat of silence.

“Did you, uh, bring anything for the cabin? Snacks or whatever?” Harry asked, his tone deliberately neutral.

“Yeah, a couple of bags of chips and some candy,” you said. “Not that it’ll matter with Aurora and Theo around—they’ll eat it all by day two.”

“True,” he said with a faint smirk. “I brought some stuff too. Protein bars and trail mix.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “Trail mix? Are you eighty?”

Harry shot you a look, his brow arching. “Excuse me for being practical.”

“I’m just saying, nobody ever gets excited about trail mix,” you said, trying to keep your tone light but failing to hide the underlying edge.

“Yeah, well, nobody gets excited about chips for the fifth year in a row, either,” he countered, his voice a little sharper than he probably intended.

You both fell silent again, the air in the car thickening.

This was it—the moment you both knew could spiral into yet another argument. But instead of pushing further, you bit your tongue, staring out the window.

Harry exhaled heavily, gripping the steering wheel. “This is stupid.”

You glanced at him, your brow furrowing. “What is?”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Tiptoeing around each other, trying not to say anything that’ll set the other off. It’s exhausting. You’re exhausting.”

You folded your arms across your chest. “Well, maybe if you didn’t always have to have the last word—”

“There it is,” he interrupted, Harry’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight. He pulled the car off the road into a small clearing, gravel crunching loudly under the tires. The sudden stop made your body jerk forward slightly

“What the hell are you doing?” you snapped, your voice rising with the frustration that had been bubbling beneath the surface.

Harry turned to face you, his green eyes sharp and stormy. “I’m tired of this, Y/N. I’m tired of the constant bickering, the walking on eggshells, the... whatever this is!” He gestured wildly between you both, his voice rising in exasperation.

You blinked, taken aback by his outburst, but your own stubbornness flared up. “Oh, so this is my fault now? You’re the one who’s been acting like everything I say is a personal attack!”

Harry scoffed, running a hand through his curls in frustration. “Maybe because half the time it feels like one! You can’t even make a joke without it sounding like you’re trying to one-up me.”

You glared at him, heat rising in your cheeks. “Oh, please. You’ve been nitpicking everything I do for weeks, Harry! And for what? To make yourself feel better?”

“I’m not—” he started, but then stopped himself, taking a deep breath. His jaw tightened as he looked away. “I’m not trying to make myself feel better, okay? I just—”

“What?” you pressed, your voice softer now but still firm.

“Nothing,” he said quietly, restarting the car and merging back onto the road.

You were mad, but with an hour still left in the drive, you decided against saying anything else. Exhaustion was setting in, and all you wanted now was a bit of calm before reaching the cabin. 

The silence stretched between you and Harry for the rest of the drive, thick with unspoken words. Neither of you tried to break it, too stubborn or too tired to make the first move. Outside, the trees blurred by, but inside the car, the tension was almost suffocating.

Finally, the cabin appeared, surrounded by tall pines and the quiet sounds of nature. One by one, the other cars pulled into the gravel driveway, laughter and chatter filling the air.

Aurora was the first to jump out, her bright smile unaware of the mood between you two. “We’re officially here, and we all are alive and ready!” she called cheerfully.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you quickly opened the door, stepped out, and headed straight for the cabin, slamming the front door behind you.

Aurora froze, then gave an awkward laugh. “Well… almost,” she said, glancing at everyone, who looked just as uncomfortable

Harry sighed heavily, resting his head on the steering wheel before looking over at Theo, who met his gaze with quiet understanding. Theo knew what was wrong—and so did Harry.

The group exchanged uneasy looks, the happy arrival now tinged with tension no one quite knew how to ease.

Aurora caught the look Harry gave Theo and immediately picked up on the unspoken message. She bit her lip, nodding subtly to herself as if filing it away for later.

She stepped back from the group, pretending to check her phone but really watching Harry’s car. Something was definitely off.

As everyone started unpacking, the usual buzz of activity returned. Jasper and Theo carried most of the groceries inside, while Eliza directed who should bring what where. Harper and Becca helped organize bags and handed out snacks and drinks. Laughter and chatter floated through the air, easing some of the earlier tension.

Aurora lingered nearby and after a moment, she quietly excused herself from the group and headed your way. She knocked gently on the door before stepping in.

You looked up, surprise flickering across your face but your frustration was still evident.

“Hey,” Aurora said softly. “You okay?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Just needed a minute.”

Aurora gave a small smile and sat down beside you. “If you want to talk or need anything, I’m here.”

“We had an argument…again” you said “I know…about what this time?” Aurora said coming near you and sitting on the bed next to yours “About everything, nonsense stupid stuff…” you said sighing “i really think this is it..this is were our friendship comes to an end”

Aurora’s eyes softened as she looked at you. “Hey, don’t say that. Friendships go through rough patches all the time. You two have been through so much together—this can’t be the end.”

You shook your head, feeling the weight of it all. “It just feels different now. Like we’re not even on the same page anymore. Every little thing sets us off.”

Aurora reached out and gently squeezed your hand. “Maybe you both just need some space to breathe. Sometimes distance helps clear the fog.”

You looked down at your hands, considering. “Maybe… but it still hurts.”

“I get it,” Aurora said softly. “But you’re not alone in this, okay? We all want this trip to be good—for you, for Harry, for everyone.”

You let out a shaky breath, grateful for her presence. “Thanks, Rori”

Aurora gave you a reassuring smile before standing up. “Come on, let’s get out there. Eliza’s schedule says today is a free day—no planned activities. Perfect chance to just relax and breathe.”

You nodded and followed her out of the room, the tension in your chest easing just a little. Downstairs, the others were unpacking and settling in. The cabin already smelled like pine and wood smoke, a comforting scent that reminded you why this place was special.

Some of the group were organizing groceries, laughing as they juggled bags of snacks, drinks, and supplies. Theo was stacking firewood near the porch while Jasper and Harper were debating which music to play first.

Eliza was busy organizing the kitchen, checking off items on her meticulously planned list, while Becca was chatting animatedly with Cassie near the windows.

You found yourself drifting outside, the fresh air filling your lungs. Aurora stayed close, leaning against the railing beside you. For the first time in days, things felt a little lighter. Across the door, you caught Harry’s eye for just a moment. He looked away quickly, and you did the same, neither of you daring to break the fragile silence.

No words were exchanged between you two — just a shared glance heavy with everything left unsaid. The tension lingered, but for now, it stayed unspoken as the day slowly unwound around you.

In the Kitchen Theo grabbed Harry’s arm gently but firmly, pulling him aside near the pantry “Harry, man, what the hell…,” Theo said quietly, locking eyes with him. “Look, I get it — things with you and Y/N have been rough lately. But this silence, the cold shoulders, the snappy comments? It’s killing whatever’s left of you two.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt mixing on his face. “It’s complicated, Theo. I don’t even know how to fix this. Every time I try to talk, it just ends up worse.” he whispered

Theo shook his head slowly. “That’s exactly why you have to try. If you don’t say what’s on your mind, what’s really bothering you… you’re just building a wall between you two that only gets higher. You risk losing her forever.”

Harry’s voice dropped. “What if I say something and it backfires? What if it’s too late?”

Theo’s gaze hardened a bit, but his tone stayed calm. “Then you deal with it. But at least you’ll know you tried. Because not saying anything? That’s giving up without a fight. And you’re not that kind of guy. God, do you really like her? go on and fix this mess”

Harry sighed deeply, looking over at the cabin where you were. “I just don’t want to make her feel worse. She deserves better than the mess I’ve become.”

Theo placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “None of us are perfect. But being honest — that’s how you show you care. That you’re willing to be vulnerable. You owe it to her, and to yourself.”

Harry nodded, swallowing hard.

Night had finally fallen over the cabin, the sky a deep navy blanket speckled with stars. Inside, the group had gathered around the large wooden table in the living room, the soft glow of lanterns and fairy lights creating a cozy atmosphere.

Eliza brought out an old, well-loved board game she’d packed—a classic everyone enjoyed. The clatter of dice and the occasional burst of laughter slowly chipped away at the day’s lingering tension. Harry and you found yourselves sitting across from each other, the game forcing a casual proximity neither had expected. For a while, the conversation was light—teasing jokes about who was the worst at strategy and who always made the boldest moves.

As the game progressed, the distance between you started to shrink, the walls built by earlier arguments slowly softening under the shared moments and friendly competition.

Occasionally, your eyes met across the table, and though neither said a word.

But then

Harper rolled her eyes and said, “It’s not fair! I should be the one winning — you’re all just ganging up on me.”

You and Harry both blurted out at the same time, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be so bad at it.”

Everyone froze for a second, surprised by the identical replies. Jasper laughed and said, “Alright, alright, no team-ups! Let’s keep playing.”

The group quickly moved on, throwing dice and debating moves, but Harry and you exchanged a lingering look, the unspoken tension hanging in the air between you. Just as the moment stretched, Jasper, laughing too hard, accidentally knocked over his beer. The amber liquid splashed right onto your lap.

“Oh no, sorry!” Jasper exclaimed, reaching for napkins.

You stood up quickly, brushing at your pants. “Classic Jasper, I'll go clean this up,” you said, trying to keep your frustration in check.

Theo caught Harry’s eye from across the room and gave him a meaningful look — one that said, Go check on her. Harry immediately stood up and went to the kitchen, where he found you pressing a damp cloth against your shorts, trying to clean the stain. He stood there for a moment, saying nothing. The nerves were building up inside him—so this was it, he thought. Gathering his courage to speak, he was surprised when you beat him to it.

“Go ahead,” you blurted out. “You can say I look like I pissed myself.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” he replied softly.

“Sure you weren’t,” you said, rolling your eyes with a hint of sarcasm.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

“Talk? Like the talk we had on the way here?” you shot back.

“No, I mean…” he sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Okay, then. Let’s just not talk. Just hear me out.”

“And why would I want to hear you?” you challenged.

“Please? Just… give me two minutes, and then you can even slap me if you want,” he pleaded.

The silence between you was thick, broken only by the faint laughter and chatter from the living room. You leaned against the counter, arms crossed, staring at Harry with a mixture of irritation and exhaustion.

“Two minutes,” you said sharply. “Go.”

Harry nodded, exhaling deeply as he ran a hand through his hair. His nerves were on edge, and for a moment, he looked like he might bolt instead of speak. But then, he met your eyes, his jaw tightening as if steeling himself.

“I know I’ve been an ass,” he began, his voice low. “I know I’ve said things that hurt you, and I know I’ve pushed you away—probably more than you deserved. But it’s not because I hate you, or because I don’t care.”

You raised an eyebrow, your arms tightening across your chest, but you stayed silent.

“It’s the opposite,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before he looked back at you. “I’ve been pushing you away because I started to feel… things I wasn’t ready for. Things I didn’t know how to handle. And instead of dealing with it like a normal person, I acted like an idiot.”

“Harry,” you said softly, unsure of where this was going.

He took a step closer, the weight of his words visibly pressing on him. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I thought if I could keep things the way they were, if I could just bury it, we’d be fine. But I can’t anymore. Because somewhere along the way, I started falling in love with you.”

The words hung in the air, his confession knocking the wind out of you. Your breath hitched, your mind scrambling to process what he’d just said. You searched his face for any hint of hesitation or insincerity, but all you saw was raw, unfiltered honesty.

“You…” you began, your voice trembling. “You’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” he said simply, his eyes never leaving yours. “And I know I’ve done everything wrong. I know I’ve hurt you, and I don’t expect you to feel the same way. But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. You deserved to know.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, the walls you’d carefully built around yourself cracking under the weight of his confession. A part of you wanted to lash out, to throw his words back at him for all the hurt he’d caused. But another part—the part that had always held a soft spot for him—wanted to believe he was telling the truth.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your arms falling to your sides.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly. “I just needed you to hear it. To know that everything I’ve done—even the stupid, hurtful stuff—came from a place I didn’t understand until now.”

The sound of footsteps in the hallway broke the moment. Theo’s voice called out, “You two alive in there? The game’s getting intense, and Harper’s threatening to flip the board.”

Harry gave a faint smile, his eyes still locked on yours. “We’re fine,” he called back before lowering his voice. “I’ll give you space if that’s what you need. Just… don’t shut me out completely. Please.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of his confession settling over you as he stepped back, giving you the room to breathe.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between you wasn’t suffocating. It was heavy, yes, but there was something else there now—a flicker of possibility, of hope.

You returned to the living room, the hum of chatter and laughter greeting you as you stepped inside. The group was still gathered around the board game, arguing playfully over the rules. It all seemed normal, like nothing had changed—but for you and Harry, everything had.

Aurora caught your eye first, her brow furrowing slightly as she noticed the look on your face. You quickly glanced away, not ready for questions. Sitting back down in your spot, you tried to blend back in, but the weight of Harry’s confession was impossible to ignore. Harry followed a few moments later, taking his seat with a small, relieved exhale. He avoided looking directly at you, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to have eased ever so slightly.

Theo, ever perceptive, glanced between the two of you. His lips quirked into a subtle, knowing smile before he turned his attention back to the game.

Harper noticed something too, narrowing her eyes as she pointed her game piece accusingly at Harry. “You’ve got that look,” she said teasingly. “Like you just got away with something.”

“What look?” Harry asked, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he avoided the trap.

“The smug one,” Jasper chimed in, grinning. “But then again, you always look like that.”

The group laughed, and you used the moment to ground yourself, focusing on the lighthearted banter. The tension wasn’t gone, but it had shifted. Instead of anger and frustration, there was now a strange, unspoken understanding between you and Harry—an acknowledgment that something had cracked open.

Aurora leaned over slightly, her voice low as she nudged you with her elbow. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, forcing a small smile. “Just tired.”

She didn’t press, but her eyes lingered on you for a beat longer before she shrugged and joined the game again. The evening wore on, and the atmosphere gradually lightened. Drinks were poured, jokes were made, and for a moment, you almost forgot the storm swirling in your mind. Almost.

Across the room, Harry caught your gaze. It wasn’t intentional—just a fleeting moment when your eyes met. But in that split second, everything he’d said in the kitchen came rushing back. You could see it in his expression: the relief, the vulnerability, and maybe even a flicker of hope. You looked away quickly, your stomach twisting into knots. The rest of the group might not have known what had happened between you two, but they could sense the difference. It was subtle but undeniable, a shift in the air that no one dared to point out directly.

For now, the game continued, the laughter grew louder, and the night pressed on. But beneath it all, the conversation in the kitchen lingered, an unspoken thread tying you and Harry together in a way that neither of you could ignore.

The cabin had finally quieted down for the night. The distant sound of crickets outside the window filled the room, a gentle reminder of how far removed you were from the chaos of the city—and the chaos of your own thoughts. Lying on your bed, you stared up at the wooden ceiling, replaying the conversation with Harry over and over again. His words were etched into your mind, the way his voice cracked slightly when he confessed: “I started to fall in love with you.”

Your chest tightened at the memory, a cocktail of emotions swirling within you. Anger, confusion, disbelief—but above all, the undeniable realization that you felt something too.

You squeezed your eyes shut, frustrated with yourself. After all the fights, the snide comments, the years of stubbornness between you two, how could it have come to this? But the truth was impossible to deny: somewhere along the way, you had fallen for him too. You hated admitting it, even to yourself. It felt like losing a battle you didn’t even know you were fighting. Yet, there it was—the tug in your chest whenever he looked at you, the way your heart raced during those rare moments when you weren’t at each other’s throats.

A soft knock on the door broke your thoughts.

Your heart jumped, and for a moment, you froze, staring at the shadow under the door.

“Y/N?”

Harry’s voice was quiet, tentative.

You sat up slowly, your pulse quickening. For a second, you debated ignoring him, pretending to be asleep, anything to delay the inevitable. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t avoid him forever.

“Yeah?” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause before he replied. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated, your fingers gripping the edge of the blanket. Taking a deep breath, you managed to find your voice.

“Okay.”

The door creaked open, and Harry stepped inside, his expression unreadable in the dim light. He stood there for a moment, as if unsure what to say or do.

“I know it’s late,” he started, his voice soft. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about… everything.”

Harry stood just inside the door, his hands in his pockets, looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. His usual confidence was absent, replaced by a quiet uncertainty.

You nodded toward the chair by the window. “Sit.”

He hesitated for a moment, then moved to the chair, dragging it closer to the bed but not too close. He sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, and you could see the tension in his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. For pushing you away. For being such an idiot half the time.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his tone.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor. “I don’t know when it happened, or how, but somewhere along the line, I stopped just… seeing you as my best friend. And I got scared, Y/N. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I kept messing things up.”

You stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“All those fights, the stupid things I’d say—it wasn’t because I hated you. It was because I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. And I thought maybe if I pushed you far enough away, I could stop feeling like this.” He looked up at you then, his green eyes searching yours. “But it didn’t work. It just made me miserable. And I know I’ve probably ruined everything, but I had to tell you. You deserve to know.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. For once, there was no sarcasm, no walls between you two. Just Harry, laying it all out there.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “This—this changes everything, Harry.”

“I know,” he said quickly, leaning forward. “And I don’t expect you to feel the same way. I just—I needed you to know. Whatever happens next, it’s up to you. I just couldn’t keep pretending anymore.”

The room fell into silence again, the weight of his confession hanging in the air.

“I hated you,” you said suddenly, your voice trembling. Harry flinched, but you shook your head. “Not really. But I wanted to. It would’ve been easier if I did. Because the truth is, I think I’ve felt the same way for a long time. I just didn’t want to admit it either.”

His eyes widened, hope flickering in them.

“But you drive me insane,” you continued, a small, incredulous laugh escaping you. “And I’ve spent so much time convincing myself that you and I could never work that I don’t even know where to start, and maybe that’s why i wanted to be right all the time”

“We can figure it out,” he said, his voice steady now. “I know I’ve been an ass, but I want to try. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You stared at him, the sincerity in his voice breaking down the last of your defenses.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay?” he repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Harry’s grin softened as he looked at you, his gaze lingering just a moment too long. The air between you shifted again, the tension returning but of a completely different kind. It was warm, electrified, as if the room itself was holding its breath. He stood slowly, moving closer to where you sat on the bed. His eyes never left yours, searching for any sign that you might change your mind or pull away.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice low and cautious, like he was treading on fragile ground.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you leaned forward, quickly, closing the space between you in a movement so instinctive it surprised you both. When your lips met, it was hesitant at first, a testing of boundaries, but that hesitation didn’t last long. Harry’s hands cupped your face, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a release of everything unsaid, every argument, every stolen glance, every moment of yearning that had gone unspoken until now.

Your hands found their way to his hair, tugging lightly, and he groaned against your lips, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His touch was gentle yet demanding, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real but wasn’t about to let it go.

When you broke apart, breathless and flushed, his forehead rested against yours, and his eyes fluttered open to meet your gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice hoarse, the vulnerability in his eyes unmistakable.

Instead of answering, you tugged him back down, your lips meeting his again with more urgency this time. You shifted back on the bed, and Harry followed, his weight pressing down on you in a way that felt grounding, solid, and intoxicating all at once.

His kisses trailed from your lips to your jaw, then down your neck, leaving a path of warmth that made your skin tingle. Your hands moved restlessly, exploring the breadth of his shoulders, the curve of his back, as if trying to memorize every part of him.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your skin, his voice laced with reverence and restraint.

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your breathing uneven. “Harry,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you. In one swift motion, you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare. You had never been a fan of wearing a bra to bed, and the soft glow of the moonlight cast an intimate light over your exposed skin.

“Fuck,” Harry murmured, his voice low and rough as his gaze fell to your bare chest. His eyes darkened, and his lips parted slightly as he took in the sight before him. A wave of desire coursed through him, his body responding instinctively. Without hesitation, he leaned down, his lips capturing your left nipple. His tongue swirled over the sensitive skin, drawing a sharp gasp from you. At the same time, his hand slid up to your other breast, his fingers kneading gently yet firmly. “Are you sure?” he mumbled against your breast “If you ask me again, I swear…” you murmured, your voice already breathless and tinged with pleasure.

Harry paused, his fingers teasingly slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama shorts. His voice was steady but laced with restraint. “I need vocal consent,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours. “I need to know this isn’t just out of lust.”

Your body ached with anticipation, and your frustration spilled out in a desperate plea. “Harry, I swear, if you don’t fuck me right now—”

A grin tugged at his lips. “That’s good enough,” he whispered before crashing his mouth against yours, his kiss igniting every nerve in your body. Harry tugged at the elastic of your shorts, and you quickly wriggled out of them, your hands already moving to his shirt. You broke the kiss just long enough for him to pull it over his head, and your eyes lingered for a moment, taking him in. His well-built frame, the tattoos scattered across his skin, and… the undeniable bulge straining against his pants. You’d always known he was big—years of seeing him in wet swim shorts that left far too little to the imagination had made that impossible to ignore.

Before you could dwell on it, Harry’s lips found yours again with an urgency that made your head spin. His kiss was intoxicating, almost desperate, as though he feared you might disappear if this was nothing but a dream. One of his hands kneaded your ass, pulling you impossibly closer, while your fingers tugged at the waistband of his trousers, eager to free him of the last barrier between you, Harry quickly pushed his trousers and briefs down in one smooth motion, letting his throbbing cock spring free, the tip flushed and glistening as it slapped against his abdomen. The sight made your breath hitch, a mix of nerves and anticipation pooling in your stomach. “Fuck!” he groaned, closing his eyes and quickly looking away.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, frowning as you held onto his shoulders.

“I don’t have condoms,” he admitted quietly.

“I don’t either,” you said, the realization hitting you. “Theo might have some—he’s here with Cassie,” you added desperately.

“I can’t just ask him for condoms now. What am I even supposed to say?”

“Fuck…” you breathed out. “I’m clean, I swear. Haven’t gotten laid in the last six months, and my last screen came back clean.”

“I’m clean too. I can show you—I have it on my phone,” he said, looking around for his phone. But before he could reach for it, you cupped his face in your hands.

“I trust you,” you said softly. That meaning more than just trusting him on that specific thing. “I’m on the pill as well.”

He hesitated for a moment, then muttered, “Are you… fuck,” before snapping, and crashing his lips onto yours again.

One hand wrapped around his length, pumping slowly at the base, while the other found the damp fabric of your thong. Tugging it aside, his fingers quickly became slick with your arousal, making you whimper softly at the sensation.

“Shit,” he breathed, pushing two fingers slowly inside you. A small moan escaped your lips. “You’re a fucking dream,” he murmured, pressing his forehead gently against yours. “Look at me,” he whispered as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“I need you,” you gasped, voice trembling with need.

Harry’s eyes darkened with hunger as he withdrew his fingers slowly, bringing them to his mouth to taste you. “Fucking sweet” he whispered against your skin.

He positioned himself carefully, lips trailing hot kisses down your neck, each touch setting you aflame. Every second stretched, filled with raw, aching anticipation, dragging his tip through your folds, slowly “Harry” you whimpered

And he finally entered you, slow and deliberate, you both froze for a moment, breathing each other in, hearts pounding in unison.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he groaned, moving with growing intensity, every thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. “So fucking tight.”

You moaned at the feeling of him inside you, stretched perfectly, hitting every needy spot. “Yes… fffu—” your voice grew louder until he placed a hand gently over your mouth.

“As much as I want to hear those delicious sounds you make,” he murmured, pumping slowly, “we’re too close to Aurora and Eliza’s room.” You cursed silently, desperate to scream out in pleasure. You knew you were loud, so keeping quiet was going to be a real challenge. He began thrusting into you faster, filled with urgent need, feeling every inch of you. “You’re perfect... so good for me,” he groaned. “Fuck me harder,” you mumbled against his hand.

“Harder? That’s how you like it, love? Hard?” he asked, driving his thrusts with more force.

“Yes… yes, I like it hard,” you managed to say, but before you could say more, he slid two fingers into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded, locking his gaze on you, and you gladly obeyed “Look at me” he said still lost in pleasure “you look amazing like this” He pulled back, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness, your lips still tingling from the contact.

“Turn around,” he murmured, his voice low and urgent, as he gently helped you shift. His gaze raked over your curves, lingering on your ass for a moment before he delivered a sharp, teasing spank. With a slow, deliberate motion, he tugged your thong aside again, exposing your swollen, puffy core that ached with need. Without hesitation, he spat a warm drop of saliva onto you, the wetness spreading and glistening under the dim light. Then, with a powerful thrust, he sank back inside you, filling you completely once more.

His hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding each deep, powerful thrust as he set a relentless pace. You bit your lip to keep from crying out but some moans escaped your mouth, the heat and pleasure crashing over you in waves.

“God, fucking pussy all mine,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. His mouth found your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses while his hips slammed into yours.

You arched back, your fingers digging into the sheets as he stretched you perfectly, hitting every sensitive spot. The room was filled with the sounds of skin meeting skin and your shallow breaths.

“Harry,” you gasped, barely able to hold back, “please, don’t stop.”

He smiled against your skin, a rough, hungry smile. “Say it again” looking down at where your bodies merged

“Harry…��� you whispered, voice trembling, eyes fluttering shut. Your hips began to lift involuntarily, matching his rhythm as waves of pleasure started to ripple from deep inside you. “i’m….i’m about to” you moaned His hand slid from your hip to grip your waist tightly, anchoring you as your body tensed, muscles clenched.The heat in your core became unbearable, a delicious pressure pulsing and tightening until it felt like you were about to shatter. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding so loud it felt like it would burst through your chest. “Come…come all over my cock” he murmured against your skin, voice rough but steady. And then—release. A shudder tore through you, your muscles spasming around him as waves of bliss crashed over your body. You cried out softly, the sound muffled by the pillow, your entire being consumed by pleasure. He kept moving, slow and sure, prolonging the moment, grounding you as you rode out the tremors of your orgasm. Still buried deep inside you, Harry’s own control snapped. With a low, guttural groan, his hips jerked harder, driving into you with desperate need. His breath hitched, and his grip on your waist tightened as the tension built to an unbearable peak.

“Fuck—” he gasped, his voice rough and raw, before his body tensed and he spilled inside you, every shuddering thrust fueling the powerful release. You felt him fill you completely, hot cum now drenching your insides, warmth spreading through you as he held you close, grounding both of you in that intense, intimate moment.

Slowly, his movements softened, and he collapsed gently beside you, forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily, connected and utterly spent.

You stayed still for a moment, your breaths mingling in the quiet room. The tension that had hung so heavily between you felt like it had finally begun to melt away. Harry’s heartbeat was steady against your skin, grounding you in the here and now.

“I’ve wanted that for a long time,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with a mixture of relief and something softer—something hopeful. “Me too,” you admitted, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest.

He smiled, a tired but genuine curve of his lips. “Maybe this is the start of figuring things out. Together.”

You nodded, leaning into him, feeling warmth spread through you—not just from the moment you’d shared, but from the possibility of what could come next.

🌷

The next morning, sunlight filtered softly through the cabin windows as everyone bustled around the kitchen, the smell of coffee and frying bacon filling the air. Plates clattered, eggs sizzled, and casual chatter floated through the room, but there was an unspoken agreement—no one was quite ready to bring up what had happened the night before.

You and Harry sat a bit apart on the sofa, exchanging shy smiles and quiet giggles, both pretending to focus on the morning but clearly still wrapped up in your own bubble. Last night was still a secret between both. Or so you thought.

Suddenly, Aurora appeared in the kitchen frowning “Thanks, Theo and Cassie, for fucking so loudly last night,” she said loudly, teasing. “I couldn’t even mute the sounds with my noise-cancelling headphones.”

Everyone froze, exchanging confused glances. Cassie blinked, genuinely puzzled. “We didn’t fuck last night. I was too tired—I fell asleep pretty quickly,” she replied, her voice calm.

Everyone was confused, if Theo and Cassie didn’t fuck and Aurora was certain he heard a male and female voice then…

All eyes swung toward you and Harry on the sofa.

“They’re looking at us” you said whispering

“They are stupid don’t worry” he said making you giggle

In fact, they weren’t, they immediately knew everything.

Taglist: @hermionelove @mads3502

[amyzworldds]

hi how are you? I really love everything you write 🩷

I would like to ask if you could write about svt x 14th member like one of the members (dino please 🥺) is in love with her and doesn't know what to do with his feelings so he starts being extremely nicer to her until he get jealous because someone flirts with y/n and that's when he decides to confess and idk what more else hahaha but with happy ending please

Thank you and have a good day 🫶🏻

Part 1: Unspoken Feelings

Masterlist

Y/N, Seventeen’s spirited fourteenth member and resident maknae, shares an unbreakable bond with Dino, forged through trainee-day pranks and late-night ramyeon runs. As the group rockets to fame from their scrappy debut, their friendship—full of playful banter and unwavering loyalty—faces a subtle shift, with unspoken feelings threatening to blur the line between best friends and something more. Pairing: Seventeen (Dino) x 14th member Genre: Fluff, lil bit of angst

The practice room buzzed with the familiar chaos of Seventeen—thirteen voices overlapping, laughter bouncing off the mirrors, and the faint hum of their latest track looping in the background. Y/N sprawled dramatically on the floor, her face scrunched in frustration. Her hair stuck to her forehead, and her practice clothes were slightly rumpled from hours of dancing. Across the room, Dino leaned against the wall, catching his breath, his sharp eyes catching her familiar pout from a mile away.

Y/N and Dino had been inseparable since their trainee days, a dynamic duo forged in late-night practice sessions and sneaky trips to the convenience store for ramyeon when their trainers weren’t looking. Back then, Y/N’s wild energy had been a whirlwind—dragging Dino into her schemes, whether it was “borrowing” a senior trainee’s dance shoes for a prank or sneaking out to chase a stray cat she swore needed their help. Dino, ever the loyal sidekick, followed her lead, even when it meant getting scolded later. Her big, pleading puppy eyes and silver tongue always won him over.

“Dino, remember when we got caught trying to ‘rescue’ that cat outside the dorms?” Y/N had laughed once, years ago, her voice bright as they sat on a park bench sharing a stolen ice cream. “You were so scared we’d get kicked out, but you still carried that mangy thing for me!”

“I only did it because you wouldn’t stop whining about it, Y/N,” he’d shot back, but his grin betrayed him. That was the thing about Y/N—she could talk him into anything, and he’d complain the whole way while secretly loving every second.

Now, years later, that same bond held strong, but something had shifted for Dino. He couldn’t pinpoint when it started. Maybe it was the night he found her crying on a bench outside the company building, her dreams of debuting in a girl group shattered when the lineup changed last minute. She’d looked so small, her usual spark dimmed, and he’d sat beside her, offering quiet comfort until she leaned into him, her tears soaking his sleeve. Or maybe it was the way her smile lit up a room, brighter than any stage light, or how her casual touches—grabbing his arm, ruffling his hair—sent his heart into a tailspin. All he knew was that being called her “best friend” or “favorite member” felt like a punch to the gut. He wanted more. So much more.

But Y/N? Oblivious as ever. To her, Dino was her partner-in-crime, her go-to for everything from dance tips to late-night snack runs. The other members didn’t notice anything off either—they just saw their maknae duo, Y/N leading the charge and Dino trailing behind like her loyal shadow. Even now, as the group took a break from their grueling dance practice, Y/N’s frustration was palpable, and Dino braced himself for what was coming.

Sure enough, Y/N pushed herself up from the floor, her ponytail swinging as she marched over to him, her lips pursed in that telltale pout. “Dino!” she whined, dropping dramatically to her knees beside him. “This choreography is impossible! I keep messing up that one stupid turn in the chorus, and Hoshi oppa’s gonna kill me if I don’t get it right before he comes back from his water break!”

Dino chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. Her theatrics were nothing new, but they still made his chest feel tight. “It’s not impossible, Y/N. You’re just overthinking it. Again.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “Easy for you to say, Mr. I-Get-Every-Move-Perfect-On-The-First-Try. Some of us aren’t dance machines, okay?”

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, please. Who was the one who nailed that freestyle battle during training and made all the sunbaes jealous?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she swatted his arm. “That was one time, and you swore you’d never bring it up! I looked like a flailing octopus!”

“A very talented flailing octopus,” he corrected, dodging another playful swat. His heart did that annoying flip again as her hand lingered on his arm, her touch casual but electrifying to him. He cleared his throat, trying to focus. “Come on, show me the part you’re messing up. I’ll walk you through it.”

Her eyes lit up, that familiar spark returning. “Really? You’re the best, Dino-yah!” She grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet with that effortless enthusiasm that made his head spin. He let her drag him to the center of the practice room, ignoring the amused glances from Seungkwan and Vernon nearby.

As they ran through the steps, Dino couldn’t help but drift back to a memory from their trainee days. They’d been in a similar practice room, just the two of them, after everyone else had gone to bed. Y/N had been struggling with a dance sequence then too, her frustration bubbling over until she’d flopped onto the floor, groaning.

“I’m never gonna get this, Lee Chan,” she’d mumbled, using his real name—a habit she only fell into when she was feeling vulnerable. “What if I’m not good enough to debut?”

He’d sat beside her, nudging her shoulder. “You’re Y/N. You’re always good enough. And if you’re not, I’ll just drag you through it until you are.”

She’d laughed, her mood lifting, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You’re stuck with me, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, my personal chaos gremlin,” he’d teased, but his heart had been racing even then, a hint of something deeper he hadn’t yet recognized.

Now, as Y/N mirrored his movements in the present, her tongue poking out in concentration, Dino felt that same warmth flood his chest. But it was sharper now, tinged with longing. Every time she got too close—her shoulder brushing his, her laughter filling the air—he wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her everything. That she wasn’t just his best friend. That he saw her in every future he imagined. That the thought of her smiling at another guy—some idol or dancer who didn’t know her like he did—made him want to scream.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Seventeen was his family, and Y/N was too precious to risk losing. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if confessing made her pull away, leaving him with nothing but awkward silences where their easy laughter used to be? Worse, what if it threw off the group’s dynamic, the one they’d all worked so hard to build?

“Dino, you’re zoning out!” Y/N’s voice snapped him back to reality. She was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at him playfully. “You’re supposed to be teaching me, not daydreaming! What’s got you so distracted, huh?”

You, he wanted to say. Always you. But instead, he forced a grin. “Just thinking about how you owe me ramyeon for this. Again.”

She gasped, mock-offended. “Excuse me, Lee Chan, I paid you back last time! With that fancy iced coffee you like!”

“That was, like, three favors ago,” he shot back, falling into their familiar banter. But as she laughed, nudging his shoulder, his heart ached with the weight of everything he couldn’t say.

For now, he’d keep being her minion, her dance coach, her best friend. He’d teach her the steps, sneak out with her for late-night adventures, and glare daggers at any guy who got too close. But deep down, Dino knew he was hopeless. He was down bad for Y/N, and no amount of pretending could change that.

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

Year 2016

The air in the cramped waiting room at Show Champion buzzed with nervous energy, the kind that only comes with a group on the edge of something big. It was 2016, and Seventeen—fourteen members strong—had only recently debuted under Pledis Entertainment, a company so small they couldn’t even afford proper in-ear monitors. The group made do with cheap earphones, their stage outfits a mix of thrifted finds and DIY flair. But what they lacked in resources, they made up for in passion, their synergy electric as they laughed and jostled in the tiny space.

“If we win today, I’m treating everyone to burgers!” Mingyu declared, sprawled across a couch that barely fit half the group. His grin was wide, but his wallet was famously thin.

“Add fries and ice cream for me!” Y/N piped up, perched on the armrest next to Dino, her eyes sparkling with her usual mischief. She nudged him with her elbow, expecting his usual playful retort.

“Y/N, we can barely afford the burgers,” Seungkwan teased, fanning himself with a script. “But when we’re big shots, we’ll get you a whole ice cream truck.”

The room erupted in laughter, Y/N’s giggle cutting through the noise like a melody. Dino, sitting beside her, tried to focus on the banter, but her laugh sent a familiar warmth through his chest. At seventeen, he chalked it up to the closeness they’d always shared—trainee days spent sneaking snacks, her dragging him to chase stray cats, or the time she’d cried in his arms when her girl group debut fell through. She was his best friend, his chaotic counterpart. Surely this flutter in his heart was just a phase, a side effect of her being the only girl he’d ever been this close to. Right?

A sharp knock on the door broke the moment. “Seventeen, you’re up next!” a staff member called. The group sprang into action, forming a quick huddle. S.Coups’ voice was steady as he led their cheer: “One, two, three—Seventeen, fighting!” With a collective shout, they filed out, Y/N bouncing on her toes beside Dino, her energy contagious.

On stage, their performance of Pretty U was electric. Every step, every note was fueled by months of sleepless nights and relentless practice. Y/N’s voice soared in her parts, her movements sharp yet playful, and Dino couldn’t help but steal glances at her, his heart pounding for reasons he couldn’t quite name. The crowd roared, and as the final note rang out, the fourteen of them stood breathless, grinning under the stage lights.

Backstage, the wait for the winner’s announcement felt eternal. Seventeen stood shoulder-to-shoulder with other idols on the crowded stage, Y/N wedged between Dino and Wonwoo. She fidgeted, whispering to Dino, “Do you think we have a shot? We prayed so hard, but…” Her voice trailed off, her usual confidence tinged with doubt.

He nudged her gently, forcing a smile. “We killed it, Y/N. If we don’t win, the universe is broken.”

She grinned, her nerves easing, and grabbed his hand for reassurance. His breath hitched, but before he could process it, the host’s voice boomed: “And the winner of this week’s Show Champion is… Seventeen!”

The world slowed. Cheers erupted, confetti rained down, and Seventeen exploded into a mess of hugs and tears. Seungcheol grabbed the mic, his voice thick with emotion as he thanked their fans, Carats, who’d believed in them from the start. Y/N, overwhelmed, turned and launched herself into Dino’s arms, her face buried in his chest.

“We did it, Dino-yah! We really did it!” she squealed, her voice muffled but brimming with joy. He hugged her back, his arms tightening instinctively, and for a moment, he let himself feel it—the warmth of her, the weight of their shared dream coming true. But as she pulled away, laughing and wiping tears, that flutter in his chest twisted into something deeper, something that scared him. He was just a kid, wasn’t he? This was just a crush. It had to be.

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

Two years later, that “crush” had grown into a tidal wave, and Dino was drowning. Every smile Y/N flashed, every casual touch, every late-night talk about their dreams—it all made his feelings sharper, undeniable. He hated it. She was his bandmate, his best friend, part of the family they’d built through sweat and tears. Confessing could ruin everything—their friendship, Seventeen’s dynamic, the trust they’d all fought for. So he did the only thing he could think of: he pushed her away.

It started subtly. One morning in their dorm, Y/N shuffled into the kitchen, expecting the usual—Dino at the stove, flipping pancakes, her coffee already brewing. It was their ritual, born from trainee days when they’d sneak breakfast together before grueling schedules. But that morning, Dino sat at the table, eating alone, his plate nearly empty.

“Dino-yah, where’s my pancakes?” Y/N asked, her tone teasing as she leaned over his shoulder. He froze, his jaw tight, and without a word, he stood, dropped his plate in the sink, and walked out. Y/N blinked, confused, as Seungkwan and Vernon exchanged a look.

“What was that?” Seungkwan muttered, his eyebrows shooting up.

“No clue,” Vernon replied, glancing at Y/N, who stood frozen, her smile fading.

It didn’t stop there. For a month, Dino avoided her like she was a ghost. If she entered a room, he found an excuse to leave. If she spoke to him, he answered in clipped words or not at all. During practice, he stayed on the opposite side of the formation, his eyes fixed anywhere but on her. The members noticed, whispering among themselves. Jeonghan even pulled Y/N aside one day, his voice gentle but probing.

“Y/N, did something happen with you and Dino? He’s acting… weird,” he said, his brows furrowed with concern.

Y/N’s face fell, her frustration bubbling over. “I don’t know, oppa! I didn’t do anything! Why does everyone think I messed this up? Am I that awful?” Her voice cracked, and Jeonghan quickly backtracked, assuring her it wasn’t her fault. But the doubt lingered, and Y/N’s usual spark dimmed, her pouty frown a constant fixture.

The members tried talking to Dino too. Joshua cornered him after practice, his tone calm but firm. “Chan, what’s going on with you and Y/N? You’re freaking her out.”

Dino shrugged, his expression blank. “Nothing’s going on. Just busy.” But inside, he was screaming. Avoiding Y/N wasn’t helping—it was making everything worse. Seeing her sad, her eyes searching for him only to meet his cold shoulder, felt like a knife in his chest. He missed her—her chaos, her laugh, the way she’d drag him into her ridiculous plans. He was hurting her, and it was killing him.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. One evening, after a long practice, he found Y/N in the dorm’s common room, curled up on the couch with a manga she wasn’t really reading. Her face was set in a stubborn scowl, and when he sat beside her, she pointedly turned away.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice soft. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t look at him. “For what? Ignoring me for a month? Making me feel like I did something wrong?” Her voice was sharp, but it wavered, betraying her hurt.

He winced, guilt twisting his gut. “I… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… needed space.”

“Space?” She whipped around, her eyes blazing. “We’ve been glued together since we were trainees, Dino! You don’t just ‘need space’ out of nowhere! Why won’t you tell me what I did?”

He opened his mouth, but the truth—I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified—stuck in his throat. Instead, he pulled a small paper bag from behind his back, offering it to her. Inside was her favorite ramyeon and a pint of her beloved ice cream.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m really sorry, Y/N. Can we… go back to how things were?”

She stared at the bag, then at him, her scowl softening but not gone. “You’re lucky I can’t stay mad at you,” she muttered, snatching the bag. “But you owe me pancakes tomorrow. And you better not pull this crap again.”

He nodded, relief washing over him as she cracked a small smile. But deep down, he knew this wasn’t over. His feelings weren’t going away, and no amount of ramyeon or apologies could change that. For now, he’d settle for her forgiveness, but the ache in his heart was only growing stronger.

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

Seventeen had come a long way since their scrappy debut days. Years have passed, they become a household name, their music topping charts, their faces plastered on billboards, and their bond stronger than ever. The members had spread their wings, some choosing to live independently while others paired up—Jeonghan and Seungkwan sharing a cozy apartment, Mingyu and Wonwoo bickering over who’d cook dinner in theirs. Y/N, ever the free spirit, had opted for her own place, a small but vibrant apartment filled with plants and mismatched furniture that screamed her personality. Yet, despite the physical distance, her connection with Dino remained unshakable, a tether that no amount of fame or time could break.

Their closeness was a constant—late-night video calls when Y/N got a wild urge to explore the city, or her whining texts for Dino to bring her snacks when she was under the weather. No matter how exhausting his day, Dino always answered. He’d drive across Seoul at 3 am if she asked, cook her favorite ramyeon when she was sick, or pick up whatever bizarre craving she had, all while grumbling playfully. It was their rhythm, carved out from trainee days and polished by years of shared dreams and chaos.

Tonight was no exception. It was 2 am, and Y/N was tipsy, her laughter echoing through a quiet alley as she stumbled out of a bar with her friends. Her phone was already in her hand, Dino’s number on speed dial. The call connected after a single ring, and she giggled into the receiver.

“Do you just sit by your phone waiting for me?” she teased, her voice slurring slightly, playful and warm.

On the other end, Dino rolled his eyes, leaning back on his couch, his game paused on the screen. “Please, Y/N, I was in the middle of crushing it in Overwatch. You’re ruining my streak.” A lie, of course. He’d been scrolling aimlessly, half-expecting her text from earlier—Going out with friends, might need a ride later—to turn into this exact call. He’d never admit he’d been waiting, though.

“Whatever, loser,” she shot back, her grin audible. “I’m sending you my location. My feet are dying in these heels.”

“You and your terrible shoe choices,” he muttered, already grabbing his keys and jacket. “Stay put. I’m coming.”

True to his word, Dino pulled up in record time, his car a familiar sight as it rolled to a stop outside the bar. Y/N stood under a streetlight, swaying slightly, her sparkly dress catching the light. Her friends waved at him, their knowing smiles not lost on him—those sly glances that said they saw right through his “just friends” act. He ignored them, stepping out to drape his spare jacket over Y/N’s shoulders.

“Ugh, these heels are the worst,” she whined, pouting as she leaned against him for balance. “My feet hate me.”

“You say that every time,” he replied, his tone fond but exasperated. He opened the passenger door, and as Y/N said her goodbyes to her friends, he grabbed the pink slippers he kept in the backseat just for her. She had a habit of wearing impractical heels, only to beg for her comfy backup pair by the end of the night.

Y/N’s face lit up as she slipped them on, sighing in relief. “You’re a lifesaver, Dino-yah.” She climbed into the car, immediately launching into a tipsy recount of her night—her friends’ bad karaoke, the spicy tteokbokki they’d shared, the guy who’d tried to flirt with her until she “accidentally” spilled her drink on him. Dino listened, his eyes on the road, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He loved this—her unfiltered chatter, the way she’d ramble to him about everything and nothing, even after a day packed with group schedules or her solo gigs. It was their thing, a ritual that felt like home.

But then, out of nowhere, she went quiet. He glanced over, catching her staring at him, her head tilted, eyes glassy but curious. “Chan,” she said, her voice softer, almost serious despite her tipsy haze. “Why are you so nice to me? Like, all the time?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, his heart stuttering. The question hung heavy, her gaze pinning him in place. He wanted to say it—Because I’m in love with you, and I’ve been in love with you since we were kids chasing dreams in a sweaty practice room. But the words lodged in his throat, too big, too risky. What if she laughed it off? What if she pulled away, like he’d feared back when he tried avoiding her in 2018?

That month of distance still haunted him. He’d thought ignoring her would kill his feelings, but it only made him ache more. Her hurt, her confusion, the way she’d snapped at Jeonghan for suggesting she’d done something wrong—it had torn him apart. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her again, not when she was woven so deeply into his life.

Before he could muster an answer, Y/N’s eyes lit up, spotting something through his window. “Oh! Convenience store! Dino, I want ice cream!” Her voice was bright again, the serious moment gone as fast as it came. She flashed him that smile—the one that made his resolve crumble every time, the one that said she knew he’d give in.

He sighed, pulling into the store’s parking lot. “You’re gonna owe me big time, Y/N.”

“Add it to my tab,” she quipped, already unbuckling her seatbelt.

As they walked into the brightly lit store, Y/N looping her arm through his like it was nothing, Dino felt that familiar ache settle deeper. He’d buy her the ice cream, drive her home, listen to her ramble until she fell asleep in his passenger seat. He’d keep being her person, her late-night savior, her best friend. But every step beside her, every laugh she shared, made it harder to pretend that was enough.

Back in the car, Y/N happily licked her ice cream, oblivious to the storm in his heart. “You’re the best, Lee Chan,” she mumbled between bites, leaning her head against the window, her slippers kicked off and her legs tucked under his jacket.

He glanced at her, his chest tight. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get any ice cream on my seats.”

But as she giggled, her voice fading into sleepy murmurs, he knew he was hopeless. No matter how many late-night drives or ice cream runs, he couldn’t outrun his feelings. He was in too deep, and Y/N—oblivious, chaotic, perfect Y/N—was the only one who didn’t see it.

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

an: Dino is such boyfriend material, I can’t even handle it! He’s got this vibe just screaming green flag energy, like, ugh, I’m so in love with him!

[chillian-murphy]

Cherry Print

SUMMARY: After you move in, Neil starts noticing that everything you do is kind of sexy. He's tortured by it.

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

WARNINGS/ADDITIONAL INFO: 🔞 not quite smut but still a lot of sex talk, more humorous than sexy, Neil tries so hard to respect women but is still a horny little gremlin, Neil getting platonically bullied by his coworkers, jerking off, Neil is a perv but never crosses any real lines, he's just tortured by his own libido

Anyway, this fic is sort and maybe a little weird, it's based on a conversation @toobusyshrimping and I had a few weeks ago, my life has been really stressful lately and idk why this was the fic my brain let me write.

You were a girl. Of course, Neil knew you were a girl, but you weren’t, like, a girl. You were a girl the same way his mom was a girl or the way his friends’ wives were girls or any other sexless, non-romantically viable woman was technically a girl but somehow another species from the ones he met in bars or saw on tv. At least, that’s how he thought of you before you moved in.

You were both small business owners struggling to make ends meet after more chain businesses moved into your city’s downtown district, and you moving into Neil’s spare room seemed like a logical enough way for both of you to lower your living expenses. Living together worked really well, actually. Household chores were way easier to stay on top of when you had someone to split them with, and having another person around gave Neil some much-needed motivation to ditch some of his grosser living habits. Everything was smooth sailing, up until the day Neil noticed something in your shared laundry hamper in the bathroom.

It was a pair of your panties, in plain view. Girl panties. That touched your vagina. White boyshorts with little cherries printed on them that were in no way overtly sexual, except they flipped the switch in Neil’s mind that made him realize that you weren’t just his platonic female roommate who ate all the peanut butter without buying more, you were a girl.

Since then, it was all Neil could think about, and it was driving him insane. Everything you did was sexy and he couldn’t un-notice it. The way you never wore a bra when you were lounging around the house, even when your shirts were thin enough for him to see a hint of nipple peeking through. The way your ass stuck out whenever you bent down. The way your electric toothbrush sounded just like a vibrator. 

Most of what you did was totally innocent, like the time he walked in on you napping in a tank top and underwear, face down, sprawled out like a starfish under the bedroom ceiling fan. Sure, it was a billion degrees and that was why he went looking for you, to ask what you wanted from the teriyaki place since it was too hot to cook, but seeing you wearing so little with your legs spread… it short circuited his brain. Forget the chicken and rice combo #3, now all he wanted was to grind against the clothed cleft of your ass and shoot his load on the small of your back.

*****************************************************************

The guys at work were no help, either. All they did was turn everything he said into a way to bully him.

“So, you know the chick from the t-shirt printing place, right? We're living together, just as like, friends, but everything she does is weirdly sexy and I can't get my dick to stop noticing.” Neil lamented as he collapsed onto the shop’s couch.

"And? Go jerk off about it. No big deal." Jon shot back, not looking up from whatever 80s horror schlockfest was currently playing. 

“Jerk off about it? Oh, no shit, I'm jerking off about it. Whenever I can, which is hard to do, seeing as I have a roommate now." he gave Jon his most menacing look as he replied.

“I like her. I mean, I haven't met her, but she got you to start brushing your teeth or flossing or whatever, so whatever she's doing, I approve of it.” Lucien added, unhelpfully. "Hey, remember when we tried that street taco place and Neil had the same piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth for like 3 days? So gross.”

"My teeth aren't the issue here!" Neil crossed his arms and pouted.

“Yeah, but they should be." Jon snickered as Lucien gave him a high five.

"She walks around with no bra and wears these tight yoga pants and one time she got high and petted me like a dog for an hour.” He pouted even harder now. “I don't know why that last one turned me on, but it did." 

“Oh no, I have a hot roommate and a full head of hair, what am I gonna do??" Lucien mocked. "That's what you sound like right now. Get a grip.”

"Just not on your dick because it sounds like you're about to rip it off!” Jon just couldn't resist getting in one last jab.

“You guys are assholes." Neil was now folded in on himself as much as he could be, in a bubble of his own misery.

“What are friends, if not people you're allowed to be a dick to?" Neil couldn't tell if that last one was Jon or Lucien, but he did know that he was never, ever, talking to either of them about any of his problems ever again.

*****************************************************************

When Neil got home, he realized he was faced with his ultimate nemesis: the yoga pants. Cheap, stretchy, and at least one size too small, they showed off everything. Everything. Part of him wanted to ask you to change, but had no idea how to ask: “hey, I can see the folds of your pussy lips through those black stretchy pants you like to wear, would you mind putting something on that didn't make me think about shoving my face between your legs and motorboating you?" 

“Are you okay? You look a little red." Neil was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize you were talking to him until you had a hand pressed against his forehead.

"What? Yeah. I'm fine. Weird day at work is all.” He simultaneously wished that you would stop touching him and that you would touch him all over.

"Are you sure? You feel warm. Maybe you should lie down.” Yes. Lying down. With the door closed and the fan on to mask any weird noises. There it was, the perfect out. 

"Lying down sounds good, actually,” he spurted out, trying and failing not to sound too squirrelly." Maybe you could run to the store? I need soup. And tissues. And whatever else sick people need.”

“Okay, yeah, I can do that." He could tell you were getting a little suspicious, but nonetheless, you began searching for your keys. “You sure you're okay? I don't wanna leave you alone if you’re really sick." 

“Yeah, no, I think I just need some quiet time. Don't worry." Neil was rushing off to his room with zero regard for how he appeared. Hopefully you would think he just had the shits or something.

Once he was sure you were out of the house, he yanked his pants down with an eagerness that he hadn't known since high school. Now was not the time for decorum nor for digging around his nightstand for lotion, so he spat in his hand and started pumping at an unforgiving pace.

Cherry print panties. How your boobs must look when they're all wet in the shower. Tiny see-through tank tops. That time you made him cuddle you when you were having that dream about high school. Anything about you that fell short of being straight-up violating as he pounded out the guiltiest jerk session of his life.

He came in hard, short spurts, all over his hand and clothing. He was so caught up in his own pleasure and relief, he didn't hear your keys rattling around as the door unlocked.

“I'm back. I tried getting medicine but you never actually told me how you were feeling so I didn't know whether to get cold stuff or allergy stuff or stomach stuff. I have the soup and the tissues, though.”

Shit.

Good news: the deed was done. Bad news: you were back and he was covered in his own cum and had no idea how he was gonna play this one off.

"Just uhhh… leave the tissues by my door, I’ll be out in a second, thanks." 

Those tissues are gonna get a lot of use in the foreseeable future.

[chaosherald]

A Word with Friends

Avarice (Excessive or inordinate desire of gain; greed for wealth)

Hosted by @hedwigoprah

Thank you @woundedsoul12 for the tag! Friendly no pressure tags for @seaglassmelody @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @davrinsleftpectoral @jukkaricity @dags-over-caravans @kabsey @serstolas (and anyone else <3)

This was inspired by a post from @madamemortem, reblogged by and commented on by @void-bitten-ghost about the gooseberry pie conversation with Lucanis when he is romancing Neve and what the flip side of that might have looked like if he is romancing Rook. Thank you for the inspiration!

(In this house, we went the Rookanis route but we love and respect Neve Gallus and what she means to both Lucanis and Rook. 💕)

Market trips with Lucanis were generally an efficient affair. The man shopped with a purpose, a neatly annotated list, and an intimate knowledge of the Treviso market. Neve had agreed to go with him assuming today's endeavor would be brisk. A nice little break from her pile of notes. A chance to clear her head and stretch her legs and exchange sardonic observations with her friend.

Instead, she was stuck waiting while a master assassin agonized over his selection of produce, watching the sun climb higher in the sky and feeling every bit of the time that passed coming directly out of the work she needed to get done that afternoon.

Sideling up to Lucanis, Neve looped her arm through his. “Alright. You have been vacillating between different fruits for far too long. I know I'm not an authority on what meets your standards, but you're clearly in need of a second opinion. What are you stuck on?”

Lucanis grumbled, glancing at Neve before looking back at the paper in his hand. Following his gaze, Neve saw it wasn't one of his fastidiously planned lists, but a recipe. “Oh, trying something new are we?” she asked.

“Perhaps. I am second guessing myself.” Lucanis spoke quickly, like he needed to get the words out of his mouth before they ran off. “Does Rook like lemon?”

Neve blinked slowly. “Lemon?”

“In a sweet preparation. Like a pastry. I know this will go well with the tea she has been favoring, but I'm not sure…”

And now Lucanis was intentionally not meeting her eye. Evasive, tenser than usual. And Neve was pretty sure it wasn't the angle of the sun adding some color to his face. She grinned, shifting the arm still looped through his to elbow his side. “Oooh. You're planning something special for Rook. Well, isn't that a twist on the case we've all seen coming.”

Lucanis looked upward, seeking divine intervention or still avoiding her eyes. Probably both. “It's a foolish idea, I shouldn’t…”

“You should.” Neve interjected. 

Lucanis ignored her, folding up the recipe. “I shouldn't. It complicates things. It's…”

Neve plucked the recipe out of his hand, opening it and looking it over. “Clearly, it is the very soul of avarice, to want something nice, something a little selfish, for once in your life. Something Rook clearly wants too.”

Now he looked at her, eyes a little wider than normal. “Please tell me we haven't been that obvious.”

“Oh, you have, if one knows what they're looking for.” Neve patted him on the shoulder. “Moot point though. Taash and Harding got Rook talking last time they took her drinking at the Hilt. Half the Lords of Fortune know where she stands.”

“Mierda.”

“And lets see. Bellara told me keeping her mouth shut when she's around you two is causing her physical pain.” Neve started looking over lemons, placing some in their basket. “Davrin has assumed brotherly duties and teases Rook about the two of you whenever you aren't around. I also caught the tail end of Emmrich and Rook discussing the ethics of consent when two entities are sharing a body just the other day.”

Lucanis looked slightly mortified. He also replaced several of the lemons Neve had picked up with ones that met his ridiculous standards. “In this one thing, Spite is not part of the problem.”

“Fair. He has been pretty keen on Rook from the get go. I shouldn't be encouraging you though. We have a bet going. If you wait another month, I'll cut you in on my take.”

Lucanis looked at her, his expression slipping into the dangerously intense stare he used to intimidate targets and to make really sure he wasn't revealing actual feelings to anyone.

“Joking. Mostly.” Neve handed him back the recipe. “There's a baker in Docktown who makes Orlesian style pastries. Rook got one of the lemon ones last time we were there and said it was the kind of thing she used to buy in Nevarra when she had the chance. The tart’s a good choice.”

Lucanis looked at her a moment more then nodded, turning away to pay the vendor for the fruit. He gathered up their purchases and they both started walking back through the market.  When Lucanis spoke again he sounded almost calm, with just the tiniest hitch giving away his nerves. “Do you really think she'll like it?”

“Rook is a giant sap with a sweet tooth. She'll love it. Just make sure you actually talk to her after bringing out the baked goods. I'll discreetly clear the room for you two after dinner.”

“Thank you, Neve.”

“Sure. Least I can do. Just try not to get overly sentimental with each other in public once you figure things out. I like seeing my friends happy, but I have my limits on sap.”

Lucanis smiled slightly. “I don't think I have ever been accused of being overly sentimental.”

Neve rolled her eyes, but knew she wasn't entirely hiding her smile. “Only because most people don't pay attention.”

[gds-daisy]

track 3: BANG BANG BANG

part 3 of made (atties version)

pairing: kwon jiyong x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!jiyong, sub!reader, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, teasing, praise, dirty talk, pet names, angst, friends to lovers, cheating.

a/n: i am so honored to be part of this collab with some of my lovely writer friends so i hope you guys enjoy the fic! also, the end is fluffy which is unexpected especially since i was assigned bang bang bang, but i didn't want to throw away the entire plot so please don't kill me yall

Tonight was supposed to be a distraction from reality…more specifically from your boyfriend, Jake.

He had been acting like a dick all week and you didn’t know what his deal was. The two of you were supposed to go on a date tonight that had been planned weeks back, but he was already 15 minutes late. Maybe he had gotten stuck in traffic or maybe he was still getting ready. He wouldn’t stand you up, would he? Wrong.

When another agonizing 10 minutes passed by, you knew something was up. Sure he was sometimes late when it came to picking you up, but he never blew you off entirely. This was unlike him, that much you knew for sure. That’s why you had sent him a chain of texts to make sure everything was okay.

“let me know if you’re running late”

“how far away are you?”

“did you forget about our date?”

“hello?”

Nothing. Not a word.

Okay fair enough. Maybe he really was on his way and couldn’t text you back. After all, he had to be careful while driving so he wouldn’t get into a car accident or any other serious situation that would prevent him from not being able to make it to your apartment. Perhaps calling him would be a better alternative.

As you pressed on the phone icon next to his contact, you could feel yourself become more worried. The trilling sound that came from the phone was practically mocking you. Just as you were about to hang up entirely upon the second to last ring, the trilling stops entirely.

“Hello?” Jake answers groggily.

“Hey! Are you on your way? I mean it's already 7:30 and you were supposed to be here about 25 minutes ago,” you remind him, trying not to get so worked up so quickly.

“Shit that was tonight?” he asks as if it’s the first time he’s hearing about this.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” you say with a frustrated look on your face as your hand finds its way to your forehead, now rubbing away at your temples.

“Look I’m so-” he starts to say but just before he can finish, he’s cut off by a feminine voice in the background.

“You can join me in the shower if you’d like, baby,” you hear the voice say.

And just like that, you felt your heart sink within a matter of seconds of hearing those words. You didn’t know if your ears were playing a cruel joke on you when you heard the pet name escape the girl’s lips on the other line. No. It couldn’t be. This had to be a dream…a really fucked up dream. What you just heard wasn’t a misunderstanding, but you desperately wanted it to be more than anything. Sure, he had been an asshole to you sometimes, but this? This was a new low even for him. This was the same man who told you that he wanted you and only you forever…the same man who had told you not even three weeks ago that he wanted to marry you one day. But he was also the same man who had just made you look like an idiot. God, how could you be so damn blind? Now it all made sense…the way he had been distancing himself lately, the way he stopped complimenting you, the way he started giving you less than the bare minimum. You had cried over him so many times when he treated you like shit but would always want to be in his company whenever you had those crying episodes. It made no sense whatsoever.

That’s when a switch went off in your brain. He would never change. The cycle was constant, especially these past few months. He was constantly making you feel like you were in the wrong for feeling the way you did about certain things he did. It seemed like no matter how many times you told him how you felt about his unacceptable behavior, the more he would indulge in it. Not only did your sadness build up these past few months, but so did your anger. You couldn’t even count how many times you had gone to bed angry at him while he didn’t have a care in the world about how you felt. The next part of the cycle was you begging for the two of you to fix things. You hated begging for the bare minimum, and it was starting to get draining. As much as you always wanted to resolve issues whenever they arose, it was starting to be a more common occurrence than not. You were done. 

“Don’t you dare even try to explain yourself,” you seethed with venom that was practically dripping from your voice.

“Baby please! It was a stupid mistake!” he pleads. 

“The only stupid mistake made here was me wasting so much time on you,” you angrily say before hanging up on him entirely, not letting him have the last word for once.

You still couldn’t believe it had come to this. It was just too much to take in. On one hand you felt angrier than all hell, but on the other hand, you were in mourning. The guy you had once known was now just a stranger. A ghost of his former self. You should’ve seen this coming especially with all the telltale signs being right in front of your face, but like an idiot–you had chosen to ignore them even when it didn’t serve your best interests at heart. You had fallen for his whole “I-want-to-change-just-for-you” act. Hell, you were even an investor. 

The anger and sorrow were now plaguing your mind and heart. You couldn’t take it. You needed a distraction…a healthy one. One that would ease your mind even if it were just for a few hours at most.

That’s how you found yourself at your best friend Jiyong’s apartment for an early in the week movie night.

Jiyong and you had been best friends for years. You guys met at YG Entertainment when both of your groups were preparing for their respective debuts in the music industry. To say that period of your life was stressful would be the understatement of the century. It was filled with dance lessons and vocal practices that would drag into the long hours of the night. But that's what brought you and Jiyong closer together. Both of you shared the same experiences which brought great comfort to one another. Before you knew it, you had started hanging out with him outside of the walls of YG Entertainment. Whether it was a laughter filled movie night on his couch or a night out on the town, you always had a fun time with Jiyong.

There was something about it that made it so special. Maybe it was the fact that you could be yourself around him or the fact that you guys were always able to find new movies to watch, even if they turned out to be god awful. It also gave you something to look forward to each week, especially if it was a rough week. It was the only sense of normalcy you had ever known.

“We’ve got options tonight!” you hear Jiyong say from the hall before entering his room.

“I swear to god if you suggest The Human Centipede again, I will kill you myself Kwon Jiyong,” you warn, loud enough for him to hear.

“You know I was joking!” he responds back.

“Mhm sure you were, Ji,” you say with a scoff. “Now tell me what your brilliant mind has come up with this week”

“I was thinking we could watch either Scream, The Conjuring, or Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” he suggests.

“Wow Ji, you’ve outdone yourself this time,” you say with a laugh, no malice behind it.

“And I’m almost offended…now pick,” Jiyong says.

“Let’s go with Scream…can’t go wrong with Skeet Ulrich. I mean have you seen that man?” you ask him rhetorically, a smile now spread across your face. If you weren’t completely caught up in your laughter, you would’ve noticed the look of disappointment that had taken over Jiyong’s once calm face. He knew it was stupid to be upset about, but that didn’t stop him from feeling that way. Jiyong knew he probably wasn’t your type, which always left a pit in his stomach. I mean for god's sake; he was in love with you. How could he not be? You made him feel like he mattered when nothing else did. You were his confidant, his support system, and most of all—the woman he loved. He hated feeling this hopeless. He had fame, money, and you…but not in the way he wanted. He wanted all of you, but he knew he never would be able to so what was the point of telling you at all? 

Shaking off his thoughts, he put all his focus back into the present moment. “Alright let’s get this movie night started!” he says, hoping it seemed enthusiastic enough to you so you wouldn’t suspect that anything was wrong. When you didn’t respond, he almost felt relieved. He let out a sigh before he drew his eyes to the screen and dug his hand into the bowl of popcorn, hoping the movie would distract him from this fucked up reality.

The final act of the movie had you on the edge of the sofa. All hell had broken loose as Skeet Ulrich’s character Billy was revealed to be the killer when he shot Randy and sent him flying through the table. The sound of the gun going off scared you half to death and made you jump backwards into Jiyong’s arms. His arms cradled yours in response and looked at you to make sure you were alright. “Are you okay?” he softly asks, the sound of the movie becoming nothing more than pure background noise. 

“No! He just shot Randy!” you let out melodramatically. 

“I totally saw that one coming…I mean how could you trust a guy with greasy hair like that?” he scoffs. All you could do was playfully slap his arm in response. “I really thought he was innocent, not to mention he betrayed Sidney too,” you pout.

“So, are you Team Randy or Team Billy then?” he asks out of curiosity. 

“I have no idea, Ji. I mean Billy’s hot, and Randy is sweet and geeky. It’s hard to choose. What about you?”

“I would have to say I’m Team Randy here,” he says without hesitation.

“And why’s that?” you ask teasingly, eager to hear his reasoning. 

“Well Randy is kind of an underdog…I mean think about it. He’s the shy and nerdy comedic relief and he seemed to really care about Sidney…not to mention that his hair is actually clean,” Jiyong explains.

“Kwon Jiyong, you softie!” you say as your mouth falls agape from his shocking response.

“If I'm a softie, then you're a scaredy cat for jumping at that gunshot," he mocks.

“You know what? I take back what I said. You’re just an asshole,” you say jokingly, now pulling your body away from his. 

“I’m so mean I know…” Jiyong trails, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he rolls his eyes simultaneously. 

“C'mon let’s get back to the movie! We’re missing all the good parts!” you groaned.

And with that, both of your guys’ eyes returned to the screen, anticipating the rest of the movie.

As the end credits rolled onto the screen of Jiyong’s TV, the both of you sat there in shock, unsure of how to feel about everything that had just happened within the last quarter of the movie. 

“Holy shit…I did not see any of that coming…did you?” you ask him, still dumbfounded and trying to collect your thoughts.

“I knew that Stu was probably gonna be the second killer anyway, but I did not expect Gale and Dewey to still be kicking,” he shares. 

“Right?! I thought Gale was a goner when she wrapped her car around that tree,” you let out with a laugh.

“Plot armor at its finest, I’m telling ya,” Jiyong laughs back with a smile entrapping his face. “I’m still mad Randy didn’t get with Sidney; I will admit that.” he adds on.

“I mean to be fair look what she just went through…Billy was a damn psychopath,” you chuckle softly. 

“I think we both know another psychopath boyfriend,” he mutters loud enough for you to hear, earning him an unreadable facial expression.

“Ex-boyfriend,” you correct him. 

“Does he know that?” he asks with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“I’m pretty sure I made my message loud and clear,” you clarify with a laugh.

“Good. That asshole deserves to have his ass handed to him after what he did to you,” Jiyong says defensively.

Jiyong knew he shouldn’t be acting like this, but he couldn’t help it. He hated seeing you upset whenever you told him the newest thing your now-ex had done to make you cry. He had been there for all of it even when you wanted to shut everybody out in the process. In his eyes, you were the best thing to ever exist. You were his entire world even if he wasn’t yours. You made him better. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend, Ji,” you say, sounding more bashful than ever as a pink tint takes over your cheeks.

“No, I'm saying that because I love you!” Jiyong suddenly blurts out before he can even comprehend what he just said.

Within a blink of an eye, the room fell silent. The two of you could only stare in shock as the both of you were trying to process what the hell just happened. Jiyong couldn’t believe himself. He had just confessed his feelings for you when he didn’t even mean to. It was just as shocking to you, maybe even more. This was the second time today where you felt like your ears were deceiving you. There was no way this was happening.

“You what?” you ask still in disbelief. You needed to know for sure.

“I love you…I always have,” he confesses with raw passion. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to tell you how I felt. It was eating me alive…consuming me.”

So, this was real. This wasn’t the universe playing tricks on you. All of it was authentic. You could tell from the way the words fell from his mouth…the same way his song lyrics sounded. They were also full of longing and soft passion. It all made sense now.

“Please say something…anything. I just need to know what you’re thinking,” Jiyong pleads softly.

“I think I love you too Ji,” you admit, the heat rising to your cheeks again. “I think somewhere along the way I fell for you even if I didn’t want to admit it. I felt so ashamed especially since I was still dating him,” you let out.

“He never deserved a girl like you,” he says, almost sounding a bit harsh. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t find his words to be attractive. Hell, you didn’t even realize your thighs were now clenched together as a result of his words. With each passing second, you were becoming more aware of the aching pain that resided in between your legs. You had enough.

“Ji…if you don’t kiss me right now, I swear to god…” you trailed, your voice laced with both neediness and lust.

That was all he needed.

Within seconds, his lips attacked yours and all you could do was fall deeper into the kiss like it was some sort of magnetizing trance. You knew you should pull away, tell him to stop, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. It felt right. The kiss was one of desire but also longing. You had been wanting to do this for ages, ever since your relationship was on a downward spiral. Your ex wasn’t the one comforting you after a bad day. Jiyong was. Your ex wasn’t the one who helped you pick up the pieces after a mental breakdown. Jiyong did. It was all Jiyong. How you couldn’t see that sooner was beyond you, but you didn’t care about any of that when your lips were currently locked with Jiyong’s with no sign of stopping.

His hands slowly trail down your body before they take their final resting place at your hips. The contact was one sparked by greed but also angst. As for your hands, they were now cradling his face like the crane of a claw machine. You could feel how desperate the kiss had become with his tongue now practically down your throat, almost like he was trying to prove something. He wanted you and only you.

Your bodies are practically flush against each other at this point, so much so that you can feel his clothed hard on through the material of your pajama pants. Just feeling it against your clothed heat was enough for you to become embarrassingly wet. You were never so needy before tonight. Your ex never knew what turned you on, let alone try to even learn what you were into. Every time the two of you slept together, it had ended with you feeling unfulfilled and dirty. Hell, he never even gave you an orgasm. Not even once.

“Ji…I need you,” you let out against his soft lips.

“I need you more,” Jiyong says with raw desire. 

“Then take me,” you challenge, your hand now brushing against the tent in his pants which makes him buck directly into your hand. 

“You know exactly what you’re doing to me, sweetheart…” he warns with no real threat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you innocently say as you plaster a shit eating grin across your angelic face while still palming him through his pants. 

That was it.

Before you knew it, your legs were now straddling his lap with a cobra like vice. His hands found their way to your hips before making you rock back and forth on his lap. You could practically feel his erection brushing away at your now needy cunt, almost like he wanted to tease you for the little stunt you had just pulled. “Now do you see what I’m talking about, baby?” Jiyong asks bluntly. He doesn’t stop there, no. His pace quickens just the tiniest bit, but it proves to be enough to have you moaning into his mouth which earns a smile from him. “You’re making it so hard to be gentle with you…” he warns.

“Who said I wanted you to be gentle?” you say mischievously.

Oh my god. You were going to kill this man.

It was like an invisible yet existent switch went off in him that made him crave you even more than he already did. Suddenly his lips draw themselves away from your mouth before they attack your lips. He starts harshly sucking away at the supple skin, which only makes your head tilt back in response. You knew that hickeys were inevitable with the way he was nipping at your neck with his warm mouth, which was slowly making its way towards your collarbone. He decides to strip you of your shirt in the process, now sliding it over your head before discarding the fabric to the floor entirely. Jiyong’s brown eyes are introduced to the sight of your perky tits, which makes him feel like he could come untouched any second now. He doesn’t waste anymore time before laying you down on the bed and pulling himself off of you to strip himself of the clothes that made him feel like he was being suffocated.

Once he’s down to wearing absolutely nothing, he gets back on top of you and immediately latches his mouth onto your pebbled areola. He drags the sensitive skin with his teeth, making you gasp in response. “Fuck you’re the most perfect girl I’ve ever seen…everything about you is perfect,” he mutters softly while still sucking away at your nipple. “These are fucking perfect,” he groans.

He switches over to your other breast, giving it the same treatment he gave the other one. This time however, he sucks even harder at the skin with the intention of leaving a trail of hickeys that would later be littered all over your exposed chest.

“You want me, jagi?” he mumbles both confidently and teasingly against the nape of your collarbones. 

“More than anything…” you plead almost sounding pathetic as you did so. 

“Let’s see how true that is then,” he teases. You were confused by his words at first. That was until he slowly slid his hand down your plaid pajama pants, earning an airy gasp from you. His fingers run over the lace fabric of your panties only for them to trace the now wet spot that had formed. “You’re drenched f’me and I’ve barely even touched you…poor thing,” Jiyong tuts. “Wonder what I would find if I just…” he continues before experimentally sliding two fingers inside your panties, slowly rubbing away at your clothed cunt with his fingers.

“Need more…please…” are the only words you manage to get out at this moment.

“Only since you asked so nicely…gotta get you ready f’me anyway,” Jiyong says with a pleased look on his face. He gets off of you for a second so he could properly discard your pants. Once he does so, he brings his fingers back to your heat and continues rubbing away at your heat, all while keeping a steady pace. He didn’t even have to pull his hand out of your panties to know that his fingers were already drenched with your slick and creamy arousal. Jiyong decides to take it one step further and slides two fingers inside your tight cunt as a way to gauge a reaction from you. You dig your fingernails into his shoulder blades which only encourages him to set a quicker pace. He manages to curl his fingers just right and finds that sweet spot deep inside you that even you didn’t know existed. All you knew was that it had you rutting your hips upward in an attempt to gain more friction. “Such a good girl…taking my fingers so well,” he praises. 

Jiyong knew his words got to both you and your cunt went he felt you tighten around his fingers. He couldn’t help but flash a cocky grin at this fact. It was also a telltale sign that you were close to reaching your high, which Jiyong wanted to give to you more than anything. “Cum on my fingers baby…I know you want to,” he coos into your ear, practically encouraging you to do so. With a few more harsh thrusts of his fingers, you finally came undone, your release creating a sticky mess on his fingers. Jiyong continued to finger fuck you through your orgasm, making sure you were fully satisfied.

Once you finally come down from the mind shattering orgasm he had given you, he pulls his fingers out of you just as fast as he did when he first inserted them inside you. You laid there panting as you tried to catch your breath after what had just gone down. While you were doing so, you see Jiyong insert his fingers into his mouth, now getting a taste of your sweet release. He closed his eyes as he relished the taste that had taken over his mouth. He knew one thing for sure. He wanted more–no. He needed more.

“You did so well for me…I think that deserves a reward, but only if you want it. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he says a bit softer this time. 

“I’m sure Ji, I promise…just need you,” you confess, a slight blush rising to your cheeks.

“Anything for you, pretty girl,” Jiyong says as he kisses you on the lips once more. “Can I take these off?” he asks, referring to your panties. You nod at his question, which makes him feel more at ease.

Finally receiving permission from you, he slowly strips you of your drenched panties before throwing them onto the bedroom floor. You’re now leaning against the headboard as you anticipate his next move. The thought of it alone was enough for goosebumps to form on your skin. “Open your legs f’me,” he coos to which you comply with. His face is now nestled in between your thighs all while kissing the supple and soft skin. He takes in the sight before him and swore he was in heaven right now. It seemed too good to be true, almost like he was having a surreal wet dream. Just being so close to your bare pussy was enough for the blood in his body to rush directly to his already hard dick. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to devour you. 

And with that, he teasingly licks a long stripe against your glistening and aching folds. He lets out a guttural groan as he tastes you. The tip of his tongue disappears as it makes its way inside your core entirely. The sudden intrusion has you tugging at his hair for support, which only eggs him on further. You could feel every flick of his tongue as it brushed against your swollen clit ever so skillfully. It was as if devouring your cunt and taking in the smell of you were the only things keeping Jiyong alive in this moment. He was a man starved and now here you were–all sprawled out for him on his bed and squirming with each stroke of his tongue as it lapped away at your poor little pussy. Even the sound of your juices being extracted with his tongue was music to his ears.

“Just like that!” you exclaim with a pornographic moan, now grinding against his face in order to gain more friction. Jiyong’s tongue continues to assault your cunt at the pace he had previously set. He was getting drunk on your pussy already, but he didn’t give a damn. 

“Fuck jagi…tastes so sweet,” he garbled, his mouth still flush against your warm flesh. Suddenly, you felt him sucking away at the lips of your labia, almost as if he was trying to make out with your pussy entirely. You wouldn’t be wrong. Your cunt was the best thing he ever tasted in his life and he would gladly die in between your legs if it came down to it. Jiyong violently started shaking his head in an attempt to lick up all your juices that were smeared against your delicious cunt. The sensation of his tongue dragging up and down your sore folds had you curling your toes in response.

 You didn’t know if it was because of how sensitive your last orgasm had left you or not, but you could feel a coil start to form within the walls of your tummy, the pressure becoming too much to bear. Nevertheless, Jiyong could feel how clenched your pussy had become for him while his mouth was still consuming you.

“I’m gonna cum Ji!” you moan ever so pathetically.

“Come on aein, give it to me…make a mess all over my face,” he softly orders you. “Show how good of a girl you can be.” With a few more flicks of his tongue, your second orgasm of the night hits you like a freight train, your release now covering his gorgeous face. His tongue works you through your orgasm by lapping away at any remaining juices that may have escaped his tongue the first time around. He finally pulls away from your heat before wiping his chin with his fingers. After doing so, he makes sure to slide his fingers into his mouth before cleaning them entirely, not letting a single drop go to waste. 

After laying on the bed motionless for a hot second, you somehow muster the strength to sit up straight and get close enough to Jiyong until your lips are practically brushing against the shell of his ear.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper seductively, but also with a hint of vulnerability.

“Is that so?” he implores, awaiting whatever answer you would give him. 

“Mhmmm,” you hum.

“I think we can arrange that,” he says before he connects his lips with yours and positions the two of you flush against one another, now laying down on the bed. You can feel how hard his erection is against your bare and exposed pussy. His cock is practically brushing against your drenched folds and it’s agonizing. 

“Please…need your cock inside me…can’t wait any longer,” you beg out of impatience.

“How do you want it? You want it slow or fast, angel?” Jiyong asks you.

“I want it fast,” you claim.

“Okay baby, it might hurt at first. Just let me know if you want to stop at all and I will. Your pleasure is just as important as mine,” he says, placing a peck on your lips. 

Before you know it, he slides his cock into you all at once, giving you almost no time to adjust to his size. The stretch was one that burned, but also felt so fucking delicious. Your entire body felt like it was on fire and he hadn’t even started moving yet.

“Ready jagi?” he asks with a grin on his face. You nodded at his words, which was the only green light he needed. He had immediately started thrusting into your tight hole at an ungodly pace, one that made a string of moans expel from your plush lips. Your hips were grinding against his, which made it easier for his cock to brush your g-spot in a way that Jake never did. “Fuck baby…you feel so good squeezing me so tight like this…bet he never fucked you the way you deserved, hm?” he asks mockingly.

“N-no he didn’t,” you cry out as his cock continued to pummel into your abused cunt.

“What a fucking shame…had the most beautiful girl ever and couldn’t please her,” he says in between grunts. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as the headboard was practically hitting the thin walls of his bedroom. He didn’t care if the upstairs neighbors could hear the two of you going at it like rabbits in heat. All he was focused on was fucking you like his life depended on it. “But it’s okay baby because your Jiyongie is here to help you.”

“Harder!” you cry out as your eyes screw shut. 

Hearing how desperate you were only made Jiyong more turned on. The fact that he was the one making you feel like this. The fact that  he got to hear your pleas escape your pretty lips. He knew he wouldn’t last long at this rate. Just like you wouldn’t. 

His thrusts had become more erratic and messy at this point. Both of you could feel his balls tighten as they slapped against your ass perfectly, only adding to the eroticness of it all. You felt the all too familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching you as he pounded into you with his fat cock.There were so many sensations coursing through your body to the point where it was overstimulating for your brain to process them all. It felt like you were on cloud nine, but in a more exhilarating way that had you gripping at the sheets due to how intense it was. 

All of a sudden, you feel yourself clench around his cock once more as he continues his movements. Yeah, you were definitely close.

“I’m gonna cum…oh fuck,” you warn him.

“I know, sweet girl. I know. Let go for me…I wanna feel you cream all over my cock,” he says almost in a hushed whisper. 

With a few more slams of his hips, you felt a jolt deep inside you, resulting in your third orgasm of the night. The feeling of you gushing all over him propelled him to slam into you a few more times before eventually emptying himself inside you with a groan, all hot and sticky. His movements finally slowed down as the two of you came down from your shared climaxes. Eventually, he pulled out of you and laid down on the opposite side of your body. The two of you were now looking directly into each other's eyes, almost with the intention of staying lost in them forever. 

His hand finds its way to your cheek, now cradling it softly with admiration. “You did so well for me…I’m sorry if it was too much,” he apologizes.

“Are you kidding me? That was amazing.” you assure him with a tired smile.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” he says, his voice above a whisper.

“I appreciate it, Ji. I really do. You made me feel so special and cared for,” you say.

“That's because you are special. You’re the most special girl I’ve ever met and will ever meet,” Jiyong replies. “You’re my everything”.

“You’re my everything too…you always have been,” you confess.

“C’mere,” he says while motioning you to come closer with his free hand.

You do as he says and within no time, your lips reunite with his in a slow and tender kiss. Not one filled with lust or greed. Just a pure kiss. The kiss lasts for a few seconds more before Jiyong pulls away.

“I meant what I said earlier…I love you with everything I have,” he says sheepishly.

“And so did I,” you say with a laugh.

Things were finally right.

writers: @namsgyu @mashtatosworld @gdinthehouseee @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @eru-vande @emmiesoverthemoon @petersasteria @breakmeoff @makeitworse

readers: @seungttttop @keiraryan @moontabi @mintandmuse @steponupbabe @heartubeatusalon @burningheartdetective @thanosspills @aizshallnotbefound @ttturnitup

[picckl]

myvur lore drop? 👀

I'm so sorry it took me a bit to get to this, i had to properly prepare to talk about him as fully as i can-

Myvur, full name Myvurton Wise'ferth Belesseau III, is a half-elf, half-halfling wild magic sorcerer who i play in a campaign called Eclipse. He looks like this:

Myvur is heir to the Belesseau household- the second most powerful household in Thuun’velia, the Pelorist empire and a very powerful faction in the world the campaign takes place in. Pelorism in this campaign is, to put it kinda simply, really bad, a kind of christo-facism situation where they're the ruling class and currently in charge, and very keen on making sure everyone follows their really morally questionable religion. Myvur II, his father, runs/owns the capital city due to their ancestor being a saint. His father looks like this:

(and the family crest)

Despite Myvur not being the eldest in his family, he's still the heir, due to the fact he's the oldest male member who looks like his half-elf father (and the original Saint Myvur), leading him to carry on the family name. NOT due to any actual personal talants- he's good at the violin, and he's good at reading, but growing up he really sucked at magic, public speaking, and pretty much everything being heir entailed despite trying really really hard to live up to the expectations set for him. Part of that was just his own different talents, and also the fact that he's a lot more mellow and nervous than the rest of his family with actual emotions in his heart, regardless of how he's tried to stamp it out.

To put it without spoilers for my party- wizard college and shit parents with expectations you've never been able to meet despite your need to impress them don't mix, and Myvur got desperate and did something stupid and now he's stuck with a lot of very old, very powerful space magic bottled up inside him (hense the wild magic sorcerer). He does not know how to deal with this space magic. His family did not know how to deal with the space magic. Bad times all around, especially when it causes him to occasionally trigger things called "arcane spasms", bursts of strong magic he's not in full control of, which either result in something being blown up or him turning into his Moon Beast form, a thing that looks like this:

The campaign has been about 3 months of in-game time, which Myvur has spent learning that hey, Pelorism isn't the top of religions and actually taking over small towns and forcing them all to convert while ruining their day to day lives ISN'T cool, and that it's ok to feel weird about the numerous executions your dad brought you to, and your family is very hated both within and outside the city they run. Also got to learn his dad killed another player character's dad, and that altogether his family's actions have affected everyone Really Badly and maybe even him as well, a thought he hasn't really let himself think about up until this point. So far, some notable actions of his have included:

Blowing up a long-standing family friend on accident thru an arcane spasm bc she was threatening his life if he didn't tell her where his friends were, after going undercover and living with her for the past week to try and get information out of her by reading her mind. Something that certainly won't stick with him (he cast 2nd level shatter and critted, she had NPC stats, and was kinda pulverized)

Found out his dad executed his best friend's dad. And then had to break the news to them that their dad was dead. A scene which caught most of the party off guard bc THE OTHER CHARACTER'S PLAYER DIDN'T KNOW THAT THEIR FATHER HAD BEEN KILLED

Found out the god he follows is not only generally hated in a lot of different areas, he's also actually killed at least one other god for no good reason, and might not be as kind and open as Myvur always wanted to believe

He's a very compelling character to play, just in the way it's really fun unpacking and changing the very centeralized views he has on everything and unlearning those and a lot of the other behaviors he has. He has a lot of genuine care in his heart and this is the first time he's been able to show it and he makes me very sad. Myvur the guy that you are

(I'll elaborate on this all more of course, but right now this is what the party knows, and most of them follow me on here. Also his artfight profile can be found here!)

[familiarscars]

lost in control. ⋆ bad omens ⋆ 01

adult content ⋆ minors do NOT interact.

Briar.

Loud music, cigarette smoke, screams and applause.

That was my routine every night.

My throat vibrated with the stupid gargling I had to do as a vocal warm-up before going on stage. I always hated that crap, but after my last slip-up, I was hanging by a thread. Back in the lion’s den. And now I had to do everything right — or at least pretend. All of that while warming up my arms in front of the cracked dressing room mirror.

The mood in the band was far from friendly, but I had to swallow it because of the voices screaming my name out there. I was already used to this kind of environment, wasn’t I? Suffocating tension, silent treatments, the polar cold between members. Nothing new. My return didn’t change a damn thing around here.

But my (few) fans… the few who were still on my side.

They deserved better from me. Always.

It was for them that I was still here.

I spat the liquid into the cup and took a deep breath, touching up my lipstick like putting on armor. Adjusted the outfit on my body, my hair was decent enough. I grabbed the mic from the case on the table, fitted the in-ears.

Showtime.

“You’re on in five minutes. For the love of God, pretend on stage that you don’t want to kill each other backstage. This show is fucking important to the band!”

“No need to remind me of the obvious, Matt,” I rolled my eyes, leaving the dressing room while he followed behind me like a talking rat.

“Everyone knows, sweetheart, but you two keep forgetting that the damn contract that keeps our rent paid and our asses clean depends on your performance. And let’s be honest — it’s been garbage.” Matt Dierkes and his habit of complaining so much it made my ears throb. “Look… I know I shouldn’t be pushing you. Not today. Not like this…”

“What?” I turned to him with a cynical smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Afraid if I feel pressured, I might run off again and go dark for a few more days?”

“That’s not it…”

“I’m fine, Matt. I’m back. I’m really fine, I swear.” I pressed two fingers to my lips like sealing a promise. “I just want to do my job in peace.”

“You seem calm…”

“And I am,” I said with conviction, adjusting the in-ear and turning to move forward.

“Wait, Bri,” he called. My steps stopped abruptly, but I only turned my head, glancing over my shoulder. There he was, wearing a cap and a Lord of the Rings t-shirt, staring at me a few steps below.

“Hm?”

“Since you got here… have you seen any other band member?”

A shiver ran through me. For no apparent reason.

Why was he asking me that? What happened while I was gone?

I didn’t have time to answer. The lights went out, and the intro to the show started pulsing through the walls. I just nodded, swallowed the question stuck in my throat, and moved on, ignoring my friend’s words.

Matt planted an unwanted memory in my head at that moment. Reminded me that, before my break, the band was already a minefield about to blow — like a volcano building pressure. Everything was going terribly wrong. Our personal issues spilled out from backstage and onto the stage.

The band had never been so fragile, so porous.

I got used to not speaking to my friends. Didn’t even notice that they hadn’t welcomed me back — and honestly, I preferred it that way. I didn’t want to face anyone… not with shame eating me alive inside, even knowing they’d never point fingers.

But this isn’t about them.

Since then, the band has closed itself off more and more from the world. A few online fights, just before I left, made everyone start avoiding the public like it was some kind of monster. We became isolated islands from one another, even isolated from ourselves. And let’s be honest, being stuck with the same faces day after day would drive anyone mad.

And in the middle of all that — as if it wasn’t exhausting enough — there was him. Noah.

The fallen star on top of the Christmas tree. The epicenter of my collapse.

Disaster in human form.

If God exists, He’s the one who kept our paths from crossing today.

Idiot.

I reached the edge of the stage just as the intro began. Wrapped my arms around my own torso. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the crowd boil over — it was the comeback after four months gone, the number one topic on the internet. What would have changed? Which songs were coming back to the setlist? What was the new look? And, of course, the most important question in the universe: what’s Noah��s new hair like?

My blood was already boiling from the heat of the packed arena, everyone waiting for the night’s headliners. I hadn’t rehearsed much, but I trusted myself. I’d been doing this for almost nine years — I still knew how to hold a stage. I had to know.

Out of the corner of my vision, I saw Noah approaching. Silent. He was warming up, spinning his glove between those long fingers while fitting the mic like someone sharpening a blade. Next to him, a redhead with a backstage pass necklace. She smelled like bubblegum — and judging by the way she glued her eyes to him, she was definitely the random bitch he’d fucked last night.

Was that what Matt was trying to warn me about?

Nothing had changed.

Including, of course, his pathetic need to parade his one-night stands around like a sweaty trophy — proof of how easily he could swap bed partners like he swapped underwear. Wow, I’m so concerned.

“Looks like someone had a great night, huh?” I murmured with a sarcastic tone, muffled by a yawn. I thought he’d ignore it. “I thought Matt had already told you it’s not cool handing out backstage passes to anyone you happen to sleep with.”

“Is she talking about me?”

No, sweetheart, I’m talking about your mother.

“Shut up.” Noah snapped at the girl without even looking at her. “Didn’t know you were coming back today.”

Well, well... if it isn’t the little fox looking visibly bothered.

“Last I checked, the band isn’t called ‘Noah and the Miserables.’ I can come and go as I please.”

“Or when you’re able to stand on your own two feet… right?” he spat, venomously, then let his gaze drop until he met mine just a few inches below. “Are you at least clean today, or should I brace myself to deal with you high and annoying on my stage?”

“Missed this?” My eyebrow lifted with a grin, and he rolled his eyes. His skin flushed from pale to pink in seconds.

“Go fuck yourself.”

The bitter taste of my own words stuck in my mouth. The rage I felt for him was so raw I could’ve just thrown the mic to the ground and walked back to the dressing room. But I promised Matt. Couldn’t lose it so easily — not without making this asshole crack first.

He did it on purpose. Wanted to throw me off balance. Wanted me to feel ashamed of myself just for coming back.

“I hope, at the very least, you remember how to stay in key…” he whispered close to my ear, making my whole body go tense before walking onto the stage. “From where you’ve been, it doesn’t seem like you had much time to rehearse.”

“Even without rehearsal, I still hold pitch better than you.”

“Keep dreaming,” he growled.

I stepped onstage with a wide smile. Everyone seemed happy to see us. And even though I was dying inside, I left it all out there. Buried the fear and tried to sing like I could erase everything that had built up in my chest. Every guitar note, every chorus from my throat was an attempt to tell the truth.

I never really wanted to leave you.

To the dismay of the man beside me — who hates me with passion — my voice had never sounded so steady. But between one verse and the next, our eyes locked with such hatred it was almost tangible. Sparks flew from our irises. If the mic could beg for mercy, it would’ve.

My fingers clutched it so hard during my part it felt like it would snap.

The show was over and we were cheered by the fans before leaving the stage.

On the way to the dressing room, something touched my shoulder and spun me around immediately.

“How are you?” Folio was gentle and kept pace with me in slow steps. “I tried to find you before the show to let you know that…”

“I’m just tired, Nick…” I confirmed with a smile, and he nodded as I walked into the dressing room. “Glad you tried to tell me the big news. Congrats to your friend and his fire-haired girlfriend.”

I gave a forced smile and Folio laughed.

“If you need anything, you know you can count on me, right?”

“You talk like you haven’t wiped me from your memory these past few months…” my voice came out low, that familiar sting burning in my eyes. Ridiculous.

Folio looked around and leaned on the doorframe, with that look of someone who carries more than they let on.

“I know you. I thought you wanted to be alone.”

“Since when do you, Jolly, and Ruffilo respect that? You never cared when I asked for space… why would it be different now?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“He sent you, didn’t he?” I let out with a bitter laugh.

“It’s not like that.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“Everyone was a mess, okay? You disappeared to clear your head, Noah was a zombie, and we had to hold the fort. Make up excuses, smile for interviews, pretend this time off stage was artistic, that it was for writing. Shit, that gets exhausting too, Bri.”

I stayed quiet. Was there any answer that wouldn’t make me even more of the villain in this story? Something like: oh, sorry for letting you all carry the band while me and the current bastard tore each other apart in silence. Seriously, sorry for dating him. Next time I’ll listen to my mom when she tells me not to talk to strangers — look how that turned out.

“I’m sorry.” It was all I could say.

“It’s not your fault, Bri.” He gave a half-smile and placed a hand on my shoulder, a simple gesture, but it said everything. “We missed you. I mean… I missed you.”

He laughed, and I let out a laugh too.

“I know things between you and Noah are a mess, but that doesn’t change what we have. Nothing breaks that, got it? Not the band, not the manager, not crazy fans, not your insane ex, not even your stubborn ass.”

And that was it.

It was good to be back.

And when I said “back,” I didn’t mean a physical place. It wasn’t about walls and furniture — it was about people. About my friends. That was home. They were home. And all that panic in my head, all the paranoia that they had left me behind… all of that was just noise. They loved me. As much as I loved them.

We were a pillar that, even cracked, still held together.

Folio pulled me into a tight hug and I stayed there for a few seconds, breathing in that relief.

“We’re here, Bri. We’re back.”

Yeah… we’re back.

“See you later.”

“What’s the rush, huh?” I crossed my arms, eyeing Folio from head to toe with a raised eyebrow. He was as restless as a golden retriever — just needed to wag his tail.

“Gonna… see someone…” he mumbled, glancing up at the ceiling before laughing when I patted his shoulder.

It was almost tradition for him to leave a little souvenir in every city we passed through. What could I do.

“Thought you were still with… Janine? Patriny? Patrice?” I guessed, squinting as I tried to hold back the laugh he was already letting out.

Wasn’t really a guess. I remembered. They’d all been part of his life at some point.

“Annie,” he corrected, shoving my shoulder back with a fake serious look. “You missed a lot these past months, Bri…”

I didn’t doubt it. Just one weekend away and I was already out of the loop on Nick Folio’s Latest Love Adventures™, a real-time soap opera starring himself.

“Beer tomorrow,” I pointed a finger at him. “And I want every detail — even the color of the underwear you’ve worn these months.”

“Didn’t wear many,” he replied, thoughtful, and I wrinkled my nose.

“Disgusting."

He winked, blew me a kiss in the air, and disappeared down the hallway.

The dressing room door closed behind me, and as soon as I turned around, a jolt made me lean against it, breath a little shaky. Noah was on the other side, sitting on the couch with crossed legs. His expression was far from pleasant, and before I could take a step forward, I had to calm myself down.

“Oh no… not you.” I groaned, dragging my feet to the side, still clinging to the wall. “Four months and you already forgot the rules? I don’t want you stepping a paw inside my dressing room. That’s exactly why we stay in separate places. Get out.”

He ignored me. Of course he did. He simply made himself comfortable on the couch like he owned the place.

“It’s not like I’m dying to be in this pigsty you call a dressing room.” He wrinkled his nose, scanning the mess of clothes, cosmetics, and bags. “Would your hand fall off if you were even a little bit organized?”

I rolled my eyes, exhausted by his very presence.

“What do you want?” I asked, lifting my chin with disdain.

“Your vacation’s over, and now we have things to deal with.” He hesitated. “We… we…”

Noah cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable, and leaned forward over his knees.

“We’ve been away from home for a year. I found a buyer willing to pay what I asked for… but I need your authorization.”

“You’re selling our house?”

When the sleepy body jolts awake after the heart nearly stops beating mid-sleep. We wake up sweaty and lost in a place that doesn’t feel like home, or a body that doesn’t feel like ours. Lost. Scanning the walls, counting the white ones. Can the floor even be trusted, or would it give out as soon as we stepped on it?

That’s how I felt now.

“Our house doesn’t exist anymore, Briar.” His voice cut like a razor, and I felt something tear inside. “I need the money to get another place to live.”

My shoulders collapsed. It sounded so simple coming out of his mouth.

Simple. Easy. Without hesitation.

There wasn’t a single emotion in his voice — Noah was as apathetic and stiff as a robot.

I blindly reached for a chair and sat down. That house… the house we worked so hard for. The one I always dreamed of: huge windows, two floors, a bathtub big enough to forget the world for a few minutes. I imagined that during our time apart, he was using it as a motel for his disposable flings. But he didn’t even live there anymore.

Then it hit me.

He was staying at the gum-scented bitch’s house.

“I need to think.”

“Think?” His calm evaporated in a second. “What the hell do you need to think about?”

“As you said, my vacation’s over. Now I’m back to deal with my problems. I want to make sure selling the house is the right choice… If the property belongs to both of us, you don’t get to decide alone, darling.”

His fist clenched tightly on his thigh, the tattoo on the back of his hand standing out.

“That house is still the only thing tying me to you besides the band. Just sign this shit already and stop playing games, Briar!”

The only thing?

“If you waited a year to bury the corpse, I’m sure you can wait a few more days,” I said sarcastically, provoking him. “I need to get my head straight.”

“Four months getting your head straight wasn’t enough?” He snapped sarcastically. “Normal people manage to pull themselves together while keeping the ship afloat, but of course with you it’s different. You never grow up!”

“That’s not it…” Suddenly I shrank a few inches, and my voice barely came out.

He didn’t understand.

His shadow fell over me — dense, suffocating. All the air was ripped from my lungs. He was so close there wasn’t even room to retreat. I felt my skin burn, and I hated myself for still being affected by him, by the same man who’s been ruining all my days.

“Fuck this. Today you’ve hit the limit of my patience with your games, Briar.”

I hated when he said my name like that. It sounded cold. Distant. Like I was just another one.

“I hope you’re planning to pay the bills for that house while it stays locked up because you’re still thinking.” He pulled away violently and threw a pile of envelopes onto the table.

Some with my name. Others with his.

And then he turned his back on me.

“Noah…”

He stopped, already at the door. Stood still for a second.

“How long have you been with her?”

His breath grew heavy. The answer came in silence — with the door slamming behind him and making me flinch all over.

“Delilah Hailey,” I repeated in a high-pitched tone, twirling the lollipop in my mouth like I couldn’t care less. “Model, rich family, arts degree… wow, what a thrilling résumé.”

I tossed the magazine onto the coffee table with disdain and rolled my eyes, resting my head on the arm of the couch. Naomi, my best friend, hurried to grab it again so she could keep reading out loud like she was narrating a damn fairy tale.

“She’s such a sweetheart, even visited the white swan!” Oh, give me a break. “And her family isn’t just rich, Bri… they own a castle. In Italy.”

Naomi scoffed, clearly offended, flipping the magazine around to show me the picture more clearly.

“No offense, but… just look at her.”

“She reeks of bubblegum,” I informed her.

“She’s a catch…” Naomi muttered a little too loud, only realizing her mistake when I lifted my head and gave her that classic ‘say it again, I dare you’ look. She swallowed hard. “I mean… why would someone like her even be interested in Noah?”

“I saw her backstage once,” I replied with a shrug, even though every cell inside me was boiling. “Still not sure how close they are.”

But I was going to find out.

“It’s not like this still affects you, right?” she tried, tossing the magazine onto the couch. “Come on, Briar. He’s made your life a living purgatory since the breakup. If you hadn’t disappeared these last four months, you would’ve lost your mind with all the crap they threw at you. You should be celebrating that now someone else has to deal with his hell.”

She was right.

Ever since we ended things, my life turned into a minefield of consequences. Like I was the monster who broke poor little Noah’s heart. Online, it was a daily massacre: gold digger, bitch, slut. People said I needed a real man—the kind who hits, you know? Then maybe I’d learn to appreciate Noah. Worthless, toxic, clearly daddy issues.

And that was just the mild stuff.

All of it fueled by his convenient silence. A silence that screamed. As if the absence of any defense from him was the most elegant way to stab me in the back. He let them worship him like a martyr while they threw me to the lions—and didn’t lift a finger to stop it. Like he enjoyed watching me bleed.

“He’s selling our house.” I said it with a petrified stare.

“Good.”

“Naomi.” I scolded.

“What now, Bri?” she shot back, using that tone that always tried to snap me out of it. “If that house is the only thing still tying you two together, let him sell it. Take your share and move on.”

But it wasn’t just that. The house was never the only link. We were tied through the band we built together, through the sweat we shed on every damn stage, through the friends who became family and were our whole world.

Why did it feel like nine years weighed like a lifetime on me, but to him, they were just nine disposable days?

The truth was I still felt him in every stitch sealing my scars—the same scars he, ironically, helped create.

I sniffed, trying to swallow the pain hollowing me from the inside, and downed the drink like the strong taste could numb me. The rim of the glass was slightly chipped, and the edge scratched my finger in this addictive discomfort that, with enough insistence, broke the skin.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe he was just trying to move on.

Which, once upon a time, I asked him to do.

And that’s okay… there’s nothing wrong with that. Noah didn’t love me anymore.

Our conversation was interrupted by the creak of the door opening. No knock, no warning—and only one person would be that rude.

He walked in with that same firm, untouchable posture, the one he wore hours earlier in the dressing room, like nothing ever got to him.

Noah and my best friend never got along, and it only took one cold, passing glance from him for her to stand up from the couch, clearing her throat quietly.

“Good luck,” she whispered near my ear, planting a quick kiss on my cheek before slipping out of the studio without even looking at him.

“What does the metalcore Wednesday Addams want now?” I muttered, eyes still on the liquor bottle on the coffee table.

From the sound of his breathing, he didn’t like the joke. Between the two of us, I was always the one with a sense of humor—twisted, bitter, but there. Noah, on the other hand, was stiff. If a single hair dared fall out of place, it was enough to ruin his day.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect little goth Ken.

I did it again.

“I want to know if you’ve signed the papers I gave you this morning,” he said, not missing a beat. He walked over to the couch, picked up the open magazine, and raised an eyebrow. “If you had time for gossip, I’m sure your head’s back on straight by now, right?”

“Can you believe it? Still not quite there,” I said with a tight smile. “Try again later.”

Noah took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before looking back at me. He clenched his fist, which twitched slightly, clashing with the anxious look on his face. Was he… afraid to be here?

“You can’t disappear for four months and act like everything’s the same as when you left, Briar.”

The look he gave me radiated fury, but it was cracking slowly, like a fragile glass about to shatter.

“You haven’t even asked where I was.”

My nails dug into the center of my palm. A wave of nausea crept up my gut—the kind that always came with confrontations. His eyes, once my favorite thing because they used to shine with such honest innocence, now only mirrored indifference. And rage.

Noah hated me so much he stayed six steps away like I was contagious.

That’s how I felt most of the time.

Didn’t even seem that strange anymore.

Our first encounter after I came back had been just minutes before stepping on stage. Four months gone, and he didn’t make a single call. Didn’t ask about me once.

He really wanted me to feel the sting of being abandoned and discarded. The sensation of not being special to anyone. Soluble, like cemetery dirt.

He scattered his feelings so far and wide that the hollow inside him could be felt from a distance. Every attempt to breathe felt useless—like… trying to insist on living, most of the time.

“Because I don’t give a damn where you were.”

He said it with emphasis, eyes drifting to the table, where his index finger picked at a tiny trace of white dust.

I swallowed hard, slowly rubbing one arm over the other.

“Okay,” I replied. “I can… I can explain.”

“Funny, isn’t it? Because every time I wanted an explanation for something, you didn’t want to give me one. So why should it matter now?”

“Don’t compare me not giving you the answer you wanted to me giving you no answer at all—those are different things!” I shot back, heart hammering in my throat. “Did that kind of thinking make it easier to snap your fingers and find someone else?”

Noah laughed in disbelief.

“Oh, right. Does that help you sleep at night—blaming me for everything falling apart? Do you come up with this crap during one of your little powder parties with your buddy Naomi?”

“What does Naomi have to do with anything?”

“What doesn’t she have to do with it?” he said, like it was obvious. “I don’t care where you’ve been because I can guess just by looking at the state you’re in.”

My eyes flicked down, scanning myself for a few seconds.

I had lost a bit of weight—nothing extreme—and the dark circles were mostly from not sleeping. He didn’t have much to say about how I looked…

What the hell?

Amazing how he could make me feel ridiculous with just a few words.

“Well… besides coming here to push for the house papers you owe me, I also came with a proposal.”

Pacing back and forth, gnawing on the side of my thumbnail, I stopped midway and turned to him, confused.

Noah was expressionless. He sat down on one of the navy-blue couches in the center of the studio, clasping his hands together until his knuckles turned white.

“Stop biting your nails.”

I slowly pulled my finger from my mouth, unsettled.

I used to bite my nails until the skin around them peeled from anxiety. When Noah noticed, he helped me stop—gradually. He helped me learn how to channel that nervous energy into other things.

Writing. Singing. Breathing. Thinking about things I loved.

Now, thinking about snapping his neck was a decent motivator.

“That’s what you came here to say?” I joked.

“Don’t be stupid.”

He rolled his eyes and I killed the laugh in my throat, falling quiet as a weird unease crawled down my spine and settled there, thick.

Unexplainable was the feeling that burned just beneath my skin, as intense as the way his eyes locked onto mine.

Noah kept pressing his fingers together, as if trying to draw strength from it. That blank expression—that cold face—flickered, and for a split second, he reminded me of someone I used to know…

The old Noah.

“Briar… I want to know how much you want to leave the band.”

@chey-h ; @nyriastark ; @xxkatsatwatwafflexx ;

[metalmonki]

9-1-Scream

Buddie x Reader

2.4k word count

Summary When the new firefighter in the house Eddie Diaz becomes best friends with your boyfriend Evan Buckley you can't help but notice a change in him. A bad change. Late nights and hushed conversations are just the beginning of this thrill ride.

Slow Burn/Eddie - Buck Murder Scream AU

Next Chapter

The day started off like any other at the 118. The smell of coffee lingered in the air, Chim was already cracking jokes in the kitchen, and Buck and I were outside in the bay, sleeves rolled up and hands soaked in suds as we scrubbed down the firetruck.

“Bet I’ll finish my side before you do,” Buck said, smirking as he elbowed the bucket closer to his end.

I raised a brow. “Yeah? And I bet you’ll still leave streaks on the windshield like last time.”

He feigned offense. “That was condensation. Totally different.”

I was just about to throw a sponge at him when the bay doors creaked open. We both looked up, and that’s when I saw him—tall, sharp features, dark hair, confident stride. He had that look like he belonged here, but was still scoping out the terrain.

He stopped a few steps in, eyes flicking between me and Buck.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m looking for Captain Nash?”

Buck beat me to it. “Office is down the hall to your left. Door should be open.”

“Thanks,” the guy said, then added, “I’m Eddie. Eddie Diaz.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, offering a quick smile.

He gave a polite nod and disappeared into the hallway. As soon as he was out of earshot, Buck leaned in.

“New guy?”

“Looks like it.”

“He’s got that military posture. You think he’s Army?”

“Guess we’ll find out when Bobby tells us who he is. Could just be visiting.”

Spoiler: he wasn’t.

Later that afternoon, Bobby called us all into the dinning area. He walked in with Eddie at his side, and I had to admit—now that I was getting a better look, he definitely had that clean-cut, ex-military vibe. But not in a stiff way. More like... dependable.

“This is Eddie Diaz,” Bobby said, his hand resting on Eddie’s shoulder. “He’s joining us here at the 118. Transferred in from El Paso. Former Army, couple years as a firefighter down there, and now he’s here.”

Eddie nodded once. Confident but quiet.

Bobby turned to me and Buck. “I’m assigning him to you two for now. Help him get settled, show him how we do things here. And Buck—try not to scare him off.”

“No promises,” Buck said, already grinning.

Chim yelled from the back, “Hey, I’m the one people need warning about!”

“You’re everyone’s initiation,” I muttered under my breath.

As the room cleared out, Eddie came over to where Buck and I were standing. He looked more relaxed now, like maybe the first-day nerves had faded a bit.

“So,” he said, “looks like I’m with you guys.”

Buck stuck out a hand. “Welcome to the circus.”

Eddie chuckled, shaking his hand. “Been through worse.”

I offered my hand next. “We’ll see if you’re saying that after a shift with Buck.”

Eddie took my hand, his grip firm but not too tight. “Duly noted.”

And just like that, Eddie Diaz was part of our team.

t didn’t take long for Eddie to start settling in. The guy was quiet at first, observing more than talking, but when he did chime in, it was with a sharp wit that caught you off guard. He held his own with Chim’s jokes and didn’t flinch when Hen tossed him a mop with zero context during kitchen duty.

By late afternoon, the three of us were sitting on the tailgate of the firetruck, killing time between drills. Buck was sipping coffee like it was the lifeblood keeping him upright, I was leaning against his shoulder with a bottle of water, and Eddie was watching us both with an amused expression.

“So,” he said casually, “how long have you two been together?”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “How’d you know we were a thing?”

Eddie gave a small smirk. “You’re literally leaning into each other like it’s a rom-com poster.”

I laughed. “Busted.”

Buck reached over and dropped a quick kiss on the top of my head, grinning like a smug idiot. “Yeah, we’ve been together a while. Kind of snuck up on us.”

“Well,” Eddie said, “that saves me from putting my foot in my mouth.”

Buck gave him a faux serious look. “Would’ve had to wrestle you in the parking lot.”

I elbowed him. “Oh my god.”

“What?” he said, shrugging. “I don’t share well.”

Eddie chuckled. “Duly noted. Hands off the taken firefighter. Got it.”

“You’re catching on fast,” I said. “That’s a good sign.”

Before anyone could respond, the station alarm kicked on, shrill and urgent.

“Engine 118, Ladder 118,” Bobby’s voice came over the comms, “possible structure fire—commercial building, smoke reported on-site. Units responding code three.”

Instantly, we were all moving. I grabbed my gear, heart already shifting into high gear. Buck was right beside me, tugging on his jacket, his expression laser-focused.

Eddie moved with practiced ease, falling into step with us like he’d been with the 118 for years instead of hours.

“You ready?” Buck asked him as we loaded into the truck.

Eddie nodded once. “Always.”

I slid into the seat across from him, watching as he buckled in. He looked calm. Focused. A good kind of quiet.

Buck looked over at me, then back at Eddie with a lopsided grin. “Fair warning: if you save my girlfriend in a dramatic blaze, I will be jealous.”

I snorted. “I can save myself, thanks.”

Eddie smirked. “I’ll make sure not to interfere with her heroic moment.”

Buck bumped his shoulder against mine. “That’s all I ask.”

The sirens wailed as we took off down the street, the city blurring past us in streaks of sun and shadow. First call with a new guy was always a little tense—you never knew how someone would handle the pressure.

But glancing at Eddie, I didn’t see nerves. I saw someone who was ready.

And something told me—this was only the beginning.

The moment we arrived on scene, we were hit with thick black smoke curling out from the top floor of the office building. Civilians were already being ushered out by LAPD officers, and the smell of burning insulation clung to the air like a warning.

“Office building, third floor—reports of people still inside,” Bobby said as we stepped off the truck. “Buck, Y/N, Eddie—you’re with me on interior. Let’s move.”

We grabbed our gear, masks secure, oxygen on. The three of us moved as one, Buck in the lead, Eddie falling in behind me. As we climbed the stairs into the smoke-filled third floor, the heat hit us like a wall.

“Room-by-room sweep,” Bobby ordered through the radio. “Clear fast but don’t cut corners.”

“Copy that,” Buck replied, voice clear and steady in my earpiece.

The hallway was chaos. Smoke reduced visibility to a few feet, alarms were still screeching, and the sprinklers hadn’t kicked in yet. Buck kicked open one of the office doors while I checked another. Eddie handled the far side.

“Fire’s concentrated in the west wing,” I called over comms. “This side’s still clear.”

We moved as quickly as we could, checking each office. I found a woman in a corner suite, frozen behind a desk with tears streaking down her soot-covered face.

“It’s okay,” I said, crouching low beside her. “I’m with the fire department—we’re getting you out of here.”

She nodded shakily, and I helped her up, guiding her toward the exit.

Eddie appeared in the hallway, supporting another man—a middle-aged guy wheezing into his sleeve, clothes half-singed. He nodded at me, and we moved in tandem, navigating back toward the stairwell. Buck took the rear, constantly checking over his shoulder.

The smoke was getting worse. I heard glass shattering somewhere behind us, followed by the low groan of the structure under pressure.

“We need to move,” Bobby’s voice warned. “Backdraft risk is rising. Get out, now.”

We didn’t argue. By the time we burst out into fresh air, medics were already waiting. We handed our civilians off, pulled off our masks, and took a moment to breathe—lungs burning, adrenaline buzzing.

That’s when Athena pulled up.

She exited her cruiser with the calm precision that only came from years on the force, removing her sunglasses and heading straight for Bobby.

“We’ve got him,” she said. “He didn’t even run. Just stood there and watched the smoke roll in.”

“Who?” Bobby asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

“The arsonist,” Athena said. “It wasn’t some random accident. His girlfriend worked in that building—broke up with him last week. He thought she was sleeping with her boss, decided if he couldn’t have her, no one would.”

My stomach turned at that. I looked back at the building, at the people we’d just pulled out. She could’ve been one of the bodies we didn’t reach in time.

“She’s okay?” I asked.

Athena nodded. “Shaken. But alive. Her boss, too.”

Buck exhaled. “Guy really lit a whole office building because of a breakup?”

“Some people take rejection like a death sentence,” Athena said grimly, glancing back at her car. “He confessed to everything. Said he brought lighter fluid in his bag and doused the break room before lighting a match.”

“Jesus,” Eddie muttered under his breath.

Athena turned to him. “You’re the new guy.”

“Yeah. Diaz.”

“Welcome to L.A.” She gave him a nod before heading back toward her cruiser. “You’ll get used to it.”

After showers and some well-earned pizza, the station was winding down. I was curled up on the couch in the common room, exhausted but content, watching Buck change out of his turnout gear.

Eddie emerged from the locker room with his duffel over one shoulder. “Alright, I think that’s everything. You sure you don’t mind?”

Buck gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. “Not at all. I’ll follow you over, help you get your bed frame inside, maybe even assemble a sad bookshelf.”

Eddie smirked. “You offering to build my IKEA furniture now?”

“You’d be surprised what I’ll do for a guy who ran through smoke with me today.”

I raised an eyebrow at them. “Should I be jealous?”

Buck grinned as he crossed over to me, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, babe. He’s charming, but he’s not you.”

I smiled and tugged at his belt loop to pull him in for a quick kiss. “You sure you’re not just doing this to avoid folding laundry here?”

“Don’t expose me like that.”

I laughed. “Go. Help him out. But if you come back smelling like cardboard and frustration, I’m not letting you near the bed.”

“Noted.”

He grabbed his keys and turned to Eddie. “Alright, Diaz. Let’s get you officially moved in.”

Eddie gave me a small nod. “Night, Y/N.”

“Night, Eddie. Welcome to the madness.”

As they disappeared out the front doors, I leaned back into the couch cushions, the ache of the day starting to settle in my bones. Something told me this was just the beginning—with Eddie, with the calls, with whatever strange rhythm the universe had planned for all of us.

And honestly?

I was ready for it.

…

Two months passed in a blur.

At first, I hadn’t thought much of it—Buck helping Eddie settle in, showing him around the city, introducing him to the weird rhythm of L.A. firefighting. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being occasional. He was always with Eddie.

Late nights. Last-minute plans. Excuses.

“I’m just helping him out,” Buck would say with that same reassuring smile. “He’s new. Doesn’t know many people yet.”

And I believed him. I wanted to believe him.

But he started coming home later and later. Sometimes, I’d wake up and he’d be sliding into bed just before sunrise, smelling like street air and secrets. He always had an explanation—a broken sink at Eddie’s new place, beers after shift, helping Eddie with his kid.

And his phone? He never used to keep it face-down.

Still… it was Buck. He loved me. He said everything was fine.

So I told myself to trust him.

The kitchen was alive with the low murmur of conversation, the clink of forks against plates, and the comforting aroma of coffee and scrambled eggs. Bobby had the news playing in the background, volume just loud enough to hear over the chatter.

“…this morning, officials are continuing to investigate the death of Olivia Parks, the Brentwood woman accused of poisoning her husband over several months. Parks was released on bail yesterday afternoon and was found dead in her apartment late last night. Authorities have not released a cause of death…”

I froze, toast halfway to my mouth.

“I know her,” I said before I even thought it. “We were on that call two days ago. Her husband was unconscious. It was his daughter who called 9-1-1.”

“Yeah,” Hen added, frowning as she looked up at the screen. “Athena was with us. She arrested her on the spot.”

“She looked like a yoga teacher, not a killer,” Chimney said, squinting at the TV. “That’s, what… the seventh? Eighth person from one of our recent calls who’s ended up dead?”

That made the room go still for half a second. Bobby raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

Chim shrugged, casually picking at the edge of his muffin. “Just saying. It’s weird, right? That guy who torched the office building—stabbed two weeks after. That guy who OD’d during that domestic call—girlfriend confessed to killing him killed a week later. That college kid who survived that electrical fire they started? Hit by a car three days after discharge. I’m telling you, it’s like we’ve been cursed.”

There was a pause, then Hen smirked. “Don’t go getting superstitious on us, Chim.”

He held up his hands. “I’m not. Just pointing it out.”

But I wasn’t laughing.

Something about the way he said it hit wrong. Like puzzle pieces I hadn’t realized were sitting right in front of me were suddenly sliding into place.

The pattern. The deaths. The way Buck had changed.

The late nights.

The whispered phone calls.

The way he and Eddie sometimes looked at each other like they were holding some silent agreement between them.

I looked across the kitchen. Buck was sitting next to Eddie, the two of them talking low and fast, something close to a grin playing at Buck’s lips.

And for just a second—just one terrible second—I thought:

What if it’s them?

But then I shook my head. No. That was ridiculous.

I knew Buck.

I loved Buck.

He wouldn’t keep something like that from me.

Would he?

“Hey,” Buck called across the table, catching my eye. “You good?”

I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

He smiled gently, like he bought it. Like he always did.

And I told myself to let it go.

Just another weird coincidence. That’s all it was.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Traitors & Lovers (Hero & Villain) part 40

Warnings: medwhump, broken leg in a cast, injured villain, a mildly intimate scene near the end (cuddling, kissing, heart-to-heart talk, things like that)

This is the last official chapter for this series!! It's finally finished! Wow! This series has officially reached 39,263 words long, which is CRAZY considering this story all started with someone's random writing request they sent to me!

Enjoy the happily ever after, everyone!

They were both crying by the end of it, in relief and love all the same. Two hearts broken, and mending, united by pain and passion. Two healing souls. Two lovers who had found each other again.

And it was beautiful.

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

It took two more days for Villain's condition to stabilize enough for her to be discharged from the Agency's medical wing. But it happened. And that's how Villain found herself in a wheelchair being wheeled toward the front door by Hero to leave.

But Superhero was waiting there, and Villain bristled anxiously as Hero pushed her wheelchair up to him.

"I have some... things to say to you," Superhero started awkwardly.

"Are you giving me a medal of honor or something?" Villain snarked. To her surprise, Superhero merely chuckled instead of rising to her baiting.

"No. It's something else. You helped Hero defeat Supervillain, and that is a brave feat worthy of consideration. So as of now, Villain, all charges previously on your record have been dropped as thanks for your service. You will never have to worry about Agency coming after you ever again, so long as you stay out of future trouble."

Villain gawked at him in disbelief. "...You're serious?" She sputtered.

Superhero gave a dignified nod. "Yup. You're free to go where you please without Agency constantly breathing down your neck and keeping you under close surveillance, which would usually be the protocol for released criminals."

"Wow. What an upgrade," Villain snorted, smiling. "I appreciate the gesture.” She stuck out a hand toward him to shake his, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Friends?”

Superhero laughed, shaking his head. “Save the city a few more times first. Then we'll talk.”

“Pfft, I've had enough near-death experiences as is, so no thanks,” Villain teased. “Guess we'll just have to remain hostile allies.”

Superhero grinned in amusement, glancing at Hero. “I can see why you feel in love with her,” he teased lightly. “Though choosing a villain as a partner would be questionable in my book, you seem to have chosen well enough.”

Hero’s face flushed red with embarrassment, and he hurriedly wheeled Villain out the door and to the car waiting outside, helping her get in before folding up the wheelchair and tucking it in the back.

Villain watched out the window as they drove to Hero's house – the place she'd be staying while she finished healing for the foreseeable future. The cast on her broken leg felt bulky and awkward, and she looked forward to the day when she could have it cut off.

Hero pulled into the driveway, getting the wheelchair back out and helping Villain into it before carefully pushing her inside the house.

The first thing Villain noticed was how bright the interior was -- all the boards on the windows had been taken down, letting in plenty of sunlight, and the front door's handle and lock had been fixed. And she realized right away that the mahogany table was gone -- the one she'd bled all over and permanently stained the night Hero had found her on the street.

"You really remodeled the place when I was out, didn’t you?" She remarked.

"Yeah... I didn't want you to feel trapped here anymore," Hero replied sheepishly. "I'm hoping you'll stick around willingly this time, though, now that we've both admitted we still care about each other."

"And if I don't want to stick around?" Villain challenged.

"Then you're free to run away again," Hero said quietly. "I won't stop you this time. I kept you grounded here before because you were in no shape whatsoever to be out in the city alone as injured as you were -- and I knew your stubbornness would get you killed. You wanted to escape to spite me, but you would have very likely died if you'd succeeded in getting out of this house. But this time, circumstances are different. Aside from the broken leg and some other wounds, you're relatively intact. You can handle yourself if you run away this time."

"...I didn’t realize that was your reason for trapping me here when you found me," Villain said quietly. A pang of guilt pricked her gut at the realization.

She couldn’t see Hero behind her wheelchair, but she could sense his shrug.

"You wouldn't have believed me if I told you before because you didn't trust me, but I was looking out for you the whole time from the day I found you, even though I knew you hated me. I only wanted to help you heal."

"I'm sorry," Villain rasped.

"For what?"

"For not seeing that. I was so angry at you for keeping me caged that it blinded me to your intentions. I wanted to see the worst in you, so I did. I didn't even consider that you were doing it for my own good."

"You were bitter and hurt, and I can't blame you for that. I betrayed you and broke your trust -- I would've had a hard time seeing past the rage too, if our roles had been swapped. You have nothing to apologize for -- you had every right to distrust me."

Hero wheeled Villain into the bedroom, flicking on the lights. He scooped her out of the wheelchair and carried her in his strong arms, delicately laying her down on the bed.

"Are you comfortable enough?" He asked, draping a blanket over her.

Villain stifled a yawn. It had been a loooong day, and she was looking forward to resting and recovering. The cast was itchy on her leg, but it was a minor discomfort to tolerate. "Yes... this is good. Thanks."

Hero shuffled awkwardly on his feet. "Okay. I'll be on the couch, but holler if you need me." He turned to exit.

"Wait," Villain rasped softly, and he froze in his tracks.

"Yeah?"

"We can... We can share the bed tonight, if... you're okay with it." Villain coughed quietly, wincing. "I'll need help with the next dose of painkillers anyway."

It was an excuse and they both knew it, but Hero was kind enough not to point it out. He nodded knowingly, taking off his shirt and climbing onto the bed, laying down beside her and taking the utmost care not to jostle her injuries as he tugged one half of the blanket over himself to share it with her.

It was one of things she'd always admired about him the most -- his superstrength was enough to crush a person's skull in, and yet, he was so self-aware of his own power. Carefully restrained around her. Hero was someone with the capacity to do great harm, who chose to be gentle.

He kept a respectful distance between them, clearly unsure of where the boundary was -- but Villain lightly reached for him in wordless invitation, and he scooted close enough to hold her tenderly in his arms, his body relaxing against hers, the tension melting away.

Hero nuzzled her neck with his nose, inhaling deeply. "I'm so glad you're alive right now," he murmured. "It almost feels too good to be real. I had dreams about this, when you were still in a coma. Where you got better, and I could finally relax and not worry that your vitals would crash at any second – but then I'd wake up and you were still unconscious in a hospital bed. But in another universe in my head, I got to save you. I saved you from this suffering."

Villain's chest twisted with sympathy. She placed a hand on his warm chest, tracing the large scar that ran across it with her fingers like she used to. "Does this feel like a dream?"

Hero hesitated. "I don't believe it is, this time. I dare hope the worst of the nightmare is finally over."

Villain rested her forehead on his chest. "I'm real, Hero," she whispered. "At the end of the fight, I did tell you you would be okay, didn't I? And right now, you're okay. You're okay."

She felt Hero subtly flinch against her at the memory.

"I suppose you did," he agreed quietly, "but I hear your last breath every time there's silence. I could barely sleep at night after the fight -- and part of me is still scared to. Because what if it ruins the illusion? What if I'm actually not okay, and I'm really just broken and miserable inside and pretending I've got it all together when I don't?"

"Then I'll be here to help you through it," Villain whispered, cupping his jaw in a hand. "Because that's what lovers do, is it not? They're there for each other, through good and bad."

"But--"

"Shhh. Let it go, darling. We'll work through it together. You're not alone anymore, and neither am I."

Hero's watery eyes met hers. "You know, for an ex-criminal, you've got a heart of gold."

Villain smirked. "Or silver. I've still got a bit of evil in me that makes me not quite worth gold yet.”

Hero snorted a laugh, hugging her tighter. "You're one of a kind, Vil. I'm so glad to have you back."

"Yup. I'm limited edition," she agreed teasingly. "There is only one of me out of everyone in the entire world. One might even say I'm critically endangered."

"And there you go, ruining the romantic moment like usual."

"Tis' my specialty, darling."

Hero reached up with a hand and traced his fingers around the initials carved into Villain's shoulder, the evidence of Supervillain's mark now turned into a permanent scar. "And to think it all started with this. In a twisted way, Supervillain drew us together in his effort to tear us apart. Fate works in strange ways."

"Indeed it does." Villain snuggled close to his warmth, sighing heavily and looking up at him affectionately.

"I love you," she murmured drowsily.

"I love you too," Hero whispered back, tenderly kissing her forehead.

They drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, and both of them looked forward to spending more nights just like this one.

Peaceful. Calm. And full of love.

⏪️ Back

Alternate ending showing what would have happened to Hero if Villain DID die (coming soon)

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @written-in-the-stars135 @neverthelass

@starz8nk @redwinesupanover @whumpisgoodwhumpislife @theforeverdyingperson @whatwhump

@writing-with-olive @whumplicity @art3m1zz @enigmawriteswhump @basica11ywhumped

@kixngiggles @whump-loverz

[he115er]

Bite me

I'm getting to the good parts of the plot I swear. Also loose has been stuck in my head while writing this. The way Heeseung d voice sounds kinda gives Michael Jackson vibes if you think about it a bit. Also I might plan on posting the next part when this one gets to 200 notes if I'm done with the 4th part before that.

Wc-2.4k

MDNI, biting, blood, vampire enha, vampire reader, a little suggestive, drinking blood, insinuation of throwing up, comfort, hurt , pain a lot of it, mentions of starvation, fem bodied reader, she/her pronouns used, maybe this will be w whole series?, communication is key guys,

|pt.1|<pt.2>|pt.3|

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A month has passed by since that question with Heeseung. It's still been lingering at the back of his mind. Your genuine curiosity at the taste of blood, as if you've never tried it before. As if you've never tasted it on your tongue the way he has. As if his experience to yours was so foreign. It kept nagging at him. He kept picking at your mannerism, picking up at how you turned whenever any of them drank blood in front of you. How you held your stomach when you saw them drink. How you got quiet when they expressed the taste. It was odd at the least, worrying if he put more thought into it.

Him and jungwon had taken extra care to get more blood to accommodate for your portions. But it seemed there was always some left when they restocked. It left them both puzzled. Maybe you drank from animals? They questioned. But you never seemed refreshed like they did when you came back. You seemed to have gotten weaker Riki pointed out to them when you lagged behind them more than you usually did. Your height caused you to lag behind, sure. But that excuse didn't feel right when you'd lean against anything to take a short rest every chance you got. Or how you seemed weaker in general, more pale, you'd hide out in your room if you weren't hanging out with your friends. It even seemed like you tried to avoid them when the intereactions weren't necessary. Your behavior was starting to set off alarms in their heads.

It wasn't adding up. You kept on telling them you already drank when they'd offer you some, or you'd give the excuse that you checked for the one you liked but didn't find any. Were you starving yourself on purpose? Did you not want to drink human blood? Did it disgust you to drink human blood, which was once your kin? Was that it? You were starting to concern them. That's when they had a real talk amongst each other to truly find out if you have been starving yourself and to figure out why.

That day they all met up in the living room, you left to hang out with some friends and it was the perfect opportunity for them to all talk. "Have you guys noticed? " Jake starts as they all sit around the living room. "Be more specific" Sunghoon comments " about her. She's been acting weird" he clarifies. "Weird how exactly?" Sunoo asks"That doesn't really help since she's always weird" Riki adds. Though meant in a teasing manner the playful tone in his voice absent. Of course they've all noticed. You haven't been subltle about it. Or maybe they've been paying too much attention to you, who could say. They've always taken more care to look after you when you came into their lives. Noticing small things you didn't even realize about yourself. Though it might come off as creepy if they were to mention it. They weren't exactly supposed to know the things they do, but what can you do about it? It's in their nature.

Despite the repulsion in your expression whenever they drank blood there was always a hunger in your eyes, a longing to taste the euphoria they experience. "Has she asked you guys anything.......weird? " Heeseung adds the question you asked him still lingering in the back of his mind. They all think for a second thinking on questions you've asked them and if they stood out as odd or out the ordinary. Jay replies "she's asked me how it feels before" Sunoo looks over at him "yeah she asked me something like that before, like how it feels to drink it or something like that". Jay hums in aggreement to his addition.

Jungwon clears his throat feeling a bit bashful at what he's about to say "she asked me if it...turns me on...?"his voice is quiet almost mumbled "what?! Really?! " Riki interjected almost not letting him finish, a bit surprised at the boldness in that question. "I get why'd she ask you, but to ask it at all? " he continues disbelief evident in his voice.

Heeseung nods trying to take the tension off jungwon he replies with the question you asked him. "She asked me how it tastes. Giving some excuse on how she's curious on how it tastes for me. " he looks at the spot you'd usually sit at shaking his head "somethings off you know? She's usually not the kind to ask those kinds of questions. Usually she does ask wried questions but these are just odd. " they all nodded. "Have any of you seen her actually drink it? " Sunghoon asks recalling the mess you made, none of them were there to witness your distraught and the realization you had. They all shake their heads, no.

Just as they were about to discuss more the front door burst open. Your friends carry you in on their shoulders to the best of their abilities"you guys need to help her! " one screamed out "she's not doing so good" another added as the boys rush in stumbling over themselves to carry your weak body. "What happened? " jungwon asks concern laced in his voice as he hurries to help you off their shoulders, Heeseung coming in and helping as well. "I-I don't know , we were just at the door and she just collapsed." One of your friends said "she-she mumbled something about being hungry. But we just ate" the other added "fuck, we know she's a vampire and shit she told us she's been eating well but" she takes a breath motioning to your now unconscious body "apparently not" your friends nodded as she placed your things on the floor "she said she had enough blood here or something. I-I-I don't know you guys have to help her" she said panic clear in her voice. "And we don't want to get bit by her please" jungwon nodded, it seemed you only told them that you were a vampire.

"We'll take care of her don't worry" he said holding you by the waist along with Heeseung. "O-okay please be careful" one said as she gathered herself to leave. "A-and please tell her to call us when she gets better" the other says as they both leave, a bit shaken by the whole situation. Jungwon's other question was answered as they left. He'd have to do something about that later. Now they'd get to find out if any of their concerns were true. If you'd been starving yourself of blood.

Both him and Heesung rush you to the couch as Jay hurries to get a bag from the fridge. Jungwon hurriedly takes the bag from jay as he comes back with it quickly tearing at one of the valves as he brings it up to your lips. He parts open your lips seeing you were to weak to do so. They all watched in anticipation as the red liquid poured into your mouth worried sick about your condition. The second it hit your tongue your eyes shot open as you resisted the urge to hurl. Instead you pushed away the bag leaning over the edge of the the couch. You quickly covered your mouth trying not to spill it on the rug. You tried to get up but your body was too weak to hold your weight. You fell to the floor tears brining in your eyes as you tried your best to swallow. Your body yet again refused, tears streamed down your cheeks as your mouth inevitable expelled the substance. It trickled through your fingers and onto your clothes as you sobbed not wanting to look up at any of them. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, that you couldn't drink blood as easily as they did even if you were the same kind now.

It shook you to your core as you curled up around yourself feeling a complete mess. Sunoo rushes to your side to console you "what's wrong? " he asks his voice a slight tremble as he looks at your form. Weak and vulnerable. "I-I can't" you reply "can't? " jungwon asks, you nod your head in agreement "can't what sweetheart? " jay asks in a more calm tone trying to calm you as he kneels by your side close to Sunoo. "Can't drink it, can't swallow it. It-it tastes horrible" you confess curling in on yourself more. Sunoo picks you up leaning you against him . "Shhh it's ok" jay rubs at your arm as you continue to sob. "Why didn't you tell us we could've helped you" Heeseung buds in crouching down next to you "we could've helped you get a different type or even some from a different animal." He says trying to help you. You shake your head again "I-I've tried!... I've tried so many, so many different types and species" you say clinging onto sunoo. Your body trembling once again fear clear in your voice. What if you were never able to drink blood, what if you starved to death.

"But my body won't take it I-I can't. As much as I want to I can't" Sunghoon comes by with some wipes to help you clean up. You let him clean your hands as they tremble in his grasp. "We'll figure it out ok? " he mumbles so only you can't hear. You sniffle and nod your head in agreement. He lifts your head up gently to clean your mouth strocking at your cheeks to clear up your tears "we got you" Sunoo says holding you closer to him.

Riki watches from afar remembering something he read a while ago after he turned. "Hyung" he calls out all of them looking at him. But he makes eye contact with junwong and calls him over to the kitchen. As they get to the kitchen Riki rubs at his nape feeling a bit nervous. "I-I've read about this before. Back when I first turned, I panicked and looked up anything I could" he starts off leaning agasint the island as jungwon stands opposite of him. He nodd his head for him to continue "they called it a curse of sorts maybe a spell?" He tries his best to recall the memory "I-I'm not sure. But what I do remember is that for some turned vampires their hunger couldn't be satiated by normal human blood, or any blood in that manner. " he says as his cheeks start to heat up "only by a lover" "what? " jungwon asks a bit confused. A lover? Is that readdy what it could be? But vampires can feel love. Plus they haven't seen you go out or even be interested in anybody before or after you turned. How could this happen.

"Y-yeah" he answers "it uhm it kind of runs more deep than that."he mumbles "But the gist of it is that they couldn't feel satisfaction until they drank the blood of the one they loved most. A-and some other things but it's not important right now" he says leaving out some other details. Those didn't matter right now not when you were in so much pain. Not to think of the possibility that you could love someone that wasn't them. "Do you know of anybody she's interested in? " jungwon asks and Riki shakes his head " fuck, that's the problem Hyung. If she keeps on going like this it'll eventaully kill her, and not in a starvation kind of way, that's probably the best out come. It would be much more painful than that. " he informs him looking over at you as you clench at your stomach.

Jungwon takes a deep breath as he walks to the living room where all of you are situated. You moved to sit on the couch jay and Sunoo still by your side as they comfort you. Jungwon stands in front of you, you look up expecting some answers from him. Anything to help ease the panic. "Who do you love? " the question shocks you having them all pause and look up at him in confusion "what? " you ask voice a little shakey "wh-what does that have to do with anything?" You ask taken off guard by his question. "A lot actually. Now who do you love? " he asks again leaning closer to you. Your face flushes as you fumble for an answer "m-my friends of course who doesn't? " you ask with a nervous chuckle but it seems that's not the answer he wanted.

"No, that's not the kind I'm-" "well why does it matter so much? " you ask interrupting him not wanting to expose your feelings in such a horrible circumstance. Now out of all times would be the worst timing not when you're feelings unusual. "Why won't you just tell us? Don't you trust us? " he interjects and you nod your head "I do but I don't see why it matters right now" you say getting a little frustrated at his stubberness to not drop the topic. "Just tell me" "no" you reply getting up to storm off to your room. He starts to follow you but Riki stops him. Jungwon looks at him in disbelief "Riki let me" he says in a warning tone. Riki shakes his head "she's already not in a good spot as it is Hyung. Let her cool off. " he says pushing him towards the couch. "You also have to explain" he says pointing his head at the rest who are utterly confused by jungwon's actions.

He sighs scratching his head before he goes to talk to the rest. He catches them up on what Riki told him. "Do any of you know if she has someone she's seeing or something that sparked this whole thing up? " he asks continuing with "I'm assuming it started sometime after she turned, I mean she did drink the first time didn't she? " he asks as the rest shrug. "She has been crypticlly talking about someone she likes but I don't know anything about them" jake says leaning back on the couch "doesn't help much but it's all I've got" he continues "what about you Sunoo? You spend a lot of time with her" he says looking over at the younger male. He shakes his head "fuck really no one has talked to her about this kind of stuff? " Sunghoon asks with some disbelief, compared to other things you've trusted to tell them about. Like your sex life, past relationships, family life, friendships, it's odd that you've stopped talking to them about your love life all of a sudden.

"When was the last time she even talked about even a simple crush? " Heeseung asks trying to recall himself. "About a year ago, complained about having a dry spell or some shit " jay says unable to believe you were going through a dry spell, especially since you used to have someone at least every month come around if you weren't dating. "Damn she really lost her game since she turned huh" riki jokes earning himself a smack from Sunoo " hey I was joking" he defends being interrupted by Sunghoon "not the time to joke this is serious". " well we won't really get anywhere without talking to her" jay reasons "or even telling her about it" jake adds. Jungwon pushes off the couch bringing all their attention to him "like riki said though, we have to give her time. " he says looking at them before heading for his room "she's an emotional mess right now. You saw her, we need to give her time to collect herself before we drop this on her " they all nod a collection of yeah's being heard.

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|pt.1|<pt.2>|pt.tba|

Tag list: @sol3chu @black-startxt | lmk if you wanna be added to the

[pinkopalfrost]

SUPERCUT. atsumu miya x f!reader

cw: angst, fwb, hurt, slight comfort, plays into cannon timeskip ish, hookups mentioned. Atsumu and yn have been friends since highschool.

You hadn’t always planned to be in a situationship with him for this long; it just happened. He had a huge fight with Osamu, and you both decided to put your feelings aside. You were leaving for college, while he was on his way to becoming a professional volleyball player. Despite putting your feelings aside, you had occasional hookups, exchanged drunken texts and calls, and had late-night cry sessions about missing each other. He even flew halfway across the world to see you for just one night, and you celebrated late-night birthday dinners together, along with receiving mystery flowers and gifts at your door.

“In your car the radio up, In your car the radio up.”

After one of their many date nights, he drives you back to his place. The air feels thick and uncomfortable, as if there’s something that needs to be said about the years spent together, caught between being something and nothing. Yet, no one utters a word; only the hum of the radio fills the silence.

"We keep trying to talk about us, I'm someone you may be love. I’ll be your quiet afternoon crush. Be your violent overnight crush.”

“Spending the night? I bought you new pajamas from the States. They are so soft that I got them in blush pink,” he says while the two of you lounge on his overly expensive couch.

“Mmh, not tonight; I’m swamped with things to do tomorrow.” You find yourself lost in thought, your gaze wandering to the ceiling, its paint slightly chipped and the texture dancing with shadows. The glow of the flickering images on the immense screen barely registers in your mind as you drift through your own distractions, the vibrant colors and sounds of the show fading into a distant hum, overshadowed by the swirling thoughts occupying your mind.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” His gaze fixates on your profile, studying the way the light catches your features.

“Nah, I’ll just grab an Uber,” you reply, rising slowly from the inviting embrace of the couch, which had lost its comforting warmth and had begun to feel foreign. You breathe in deeply, savoring the last traces of familiarity before stepping into the cool, uncertain night. “See you later.”

"You know I can't bear to see you leave," he whispers, his arms enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth, as if the world outside has faded away. His voice is soft and soothing, a gentle murmur that caresses your hair.

"I have to," you reply, your voice barely a whisper, as the heaviness of sleep begins to tug at your eyelids, making you feel weightless against his chest.

“but it’s just the supercut of us.”

Two weeks have slipped by without a glimpse or a word from Atsumu. His name lingers on your screen, the message left deliberately on "delivered." He understands the unspoken boundaries you've established, a lesson learned during those chaotic college days when he learned not to chase after your elusive attention.

Each night brings a torrent of memories crashing into you—laughter echoing in hallways, quiet moments shared over cups of coffee, and stolen glances that spoke volumes. You find yourself trapped in a whirlwind of thoughts, questioning whether severing all ties would truly help you heal or simply exacerbate the gaping hole left in your heart.

It gnaws at you, the thought that perhaps you’ve been too timid to confront him about your desire for something deeper, more profound. After years of teetering on the edge of uncertainty, stuck in this uncomfortable limbo, you are left wondering what your next move should be. Is it weakness to crave clarity, or is it simply the longing for a love that feels just out of reach?

“supercut of us.”

A gentle knock echoed through your room, breaking the silence as you scrolled through yet another work email. With a resigned sigh, you immediately recognized the familiar sound and the weight of responsibility that accompanied it. Reluctantly, you pushed yourself up from your chair and trudged to the door, each step heavy with anticipation.

As you swung the door open, there stood a man with tousled dirty blond hair, the late afternoon light casting shadows across his face. His eyes, wide and glistening like the innocent gaze of a lost puppy, seemed to tug at your heart. The combination of his scruffy appearance and that wistful expression said more than words ever could—he needed you, and you felt the world shift on its axis just by looking at him.

“Hi.” You both said in weird unison.

“I think it’s time we talked…” He murmured, sounding less confident than usual.

“I think so too.” You open the door wider to let him in.

“Cause in my head, in my head i’ll do everything right when you call, when you call i forgive and not fight.”

a/n - this was rushed..i lwk want to right bakugo angst or maybe suna??

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

something i find fascinating about the concept of the time war is just how pervasive and inevitable it is. of course you see this in stories that came out after its establishment as a plot, where we see that the time lords knew for a long time that something bad was coming, or in paradox of the daleks where the concept of the time war somehow slips in despite no one there having any reason to know about it

but even looking back on media made pre time war, it's still kind of there. there are the hints scattered around classic who about the time lords having once been a war like species (state of decay is an especially good case of this), you have stories like gensis of the daleks, which is retroactively considered to be the first move of the war, and just listening to the way the daleks talk about gallifrey in the apocalypse element really made me think of the time war

like even before the war was an established concept, there was this creeping notion that the time lords were war like, that gallifrey's destruction was inevitable from the beginning, both within the doctor who universe and outside of it

[twinklingwatermellon]

also I think it’s time for a little Elly Lore Update because I feel like I mention so many people on here and y’all need to understand who I’m taking about when you attend the virtual sleepovers 😌

[bmpmp3]

i do wish i was better at communicating with people online and through technology. i wander into conversations and make new ones all the time irl with random people and its fun but im like hyping myself to type out a single response to a Post. and to say nothing of how difficult it is to get me to say something in a discord server

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[pnsge]