#if you try i simply wont listen

[tahkannibal]

Fuck I hate fhem

[nightzskii]

dont mind this post

looking at old tags the best i can

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.

Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.

“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.

Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?

Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.

He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.

If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.

He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!

It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~

You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.

He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.

He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!

He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.

When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!

Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!

His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.

He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.

One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.

Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.

Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.

He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.

Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.

“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”

Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.

He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.

He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)

He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.

The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.

Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.

You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!

He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.

He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.

Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.

Now let’s talk about Vox.

Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.

He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.

Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.

Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.

Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.

[your-local-granny]

.

[yanderemommabean]

for the red rooms in devildom, imagine lucifer finally deciding to give red rooms a shot when he realizes mc will soon leave devildom and/or keeps rejecting his affection

Lucifer being the avatar of pride means he can’t exactly handle rejection. Maybe a few times at first, seeing it as a way to chase and have fun and to prove himself to you and sweep you off of your feet, but after a while it really gets under his skin. 

Why? Why are you denying him? Sure he can understand being scared of him, he’s one of the most powerful demons after all, and sadly you were more than once on the wrong end of that ire and anger when you first arrived. He won’t deny that your emotions with those incidents are possibly why you wouldn’t want to be with him, but surely now you see hes trying to make amends? That he’d kiss the ground you walk on and make sure to keep you safe? 

It seems you were serious about denying and rejecting his affections. You tell everyone at dinner what a wonderful time you’ve had, and how in three days time you’re expected to leave, back to the human world, leaving them to wallow in your absence. 

Well, you won’t get away with that. He won’t let you make this mistake. He just gives a soft smile, a gentle hug, and tells you that he’ll miss you, but as you head up to bed and listen to Mammon and Levi’s blabbering and sobbing, Lucifer decides to make a rather last resort call. 

The Red Rooms. The last place he ever wanted to bring you. While they care for the darling's experience, he doesn’t want to have to force this, but you’re really leaving him no choice! 

He’ll make sure the rooms are to your tastes. Stuffed animals to cry into when overwhelmed, softer gags to be easier on your jaw, padded cuffs to make sure your delicate human skin isn’t bruised unless he decides to bruise it himself. 

The demon chuckles on the other end of the line but once they hear who’s making the call, they shut up and show respect. 

“Nothing rough. This is to prove my devotion and how I’m better than my brothers. I want only the best, the softest, the cleanest and the safest. I won’t hesitate to kill you and wring your blood into my food to devour. Do we have an understanding?” 

He goes through the list, his mind getting even more perverted than Asmo as he pictures how he’ll make you moan and whimper for him. “Oh? Well I must admit that golden hellfire newt syrup would be a nice touch but I'm as ready as ill need to be. Yes, I'm aware it's a potent aphrodisiac but I assure you, my love and lust know no bounds when it comes to my sweet little minx” 

The call goes on a little longer, Lucifer giving some final details on safety measures, only giving Diavolo's emergency number in case he completely loses himself, and so on. Who woulda thought the demons in the seediest parts of the underworld would be so caring? Then again it’s rumored Barbatos and Diavolo run the palace in disguise so…

When asked how they are to bring you in, Lucifer just smiles and tries not to break the phone in an angered crush. To think they’d touch you, it just sent a pang of anger through his core. But he knows they’re simply doing their job, so he can’t exactly kill them just yet.

“I’ll use the spells you have on hand, or ill bring them in myself under a guise of a last dinner together. You’ll know it's me by what I'm wearing. None of this better go wrong, or I assure you, you wont live to warn the others of my wrath”.

-Mommabean (HI! I hope you likes this bean!!)

[lovieku]

Good Luck, Babe! #4 ☆ jeon jungkook

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 21.8k

☾ warnings: huhhhh. Angst! jeongguk being a pain in the ass for no reason. well sorta kinda! lots of cute fun moments with the group. until jeongguk comes and ruins it all. (no but i love him). unserious banter until it gets serious, again. pov switch! angst angst angst. mentions of blood!!! fluff if you squint. jealousy if you squint, like, really hard.

☾ author’s note: HELLOOOO first of all happy (late) birthday namjoonie <3 second of all IM FINALLY HERE!!! and this chapter is so long omfg. i got carried away and realised way too late. was too deep in! hope you can enjoy, i love love them sm, its worth getting to the end!

ps: if you read this, lmk what u enjoy more between eunbi’s pov and jk’s pov. it wont change the way i write the story, im just curious!! okay bye <3

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four ⋆ good 4 u

Sleep doesn’t find Eunbi that night. Her mind runs from it, busy searching for something else, grasping for answers to questions that don’t have one. And if they do exist, they get lost in a haze of sadness. Anger. Helplessness. Sadness again.

When Dahye joins her in their shared tent, Eunbi’s eyes are hollow, devoid of any emotion. Her ears still ring with a distant noise, struggling to pick up her friend’s passionate reassurances. Still, she lets herself be held, and comforted by words her brain can’t quite grasp, head resting on Dahye’s chest, a gentle hand running through her hair. For a moment, feeling the soft rhythm of her friend’s breath, she clings to the comfort of her presence, hoping it might anchor her in some way, keep her from completely drifting away.

But everything she has been trying to shut out comes crashing down on her fragile figure the moment she feels Dahye’s arms grow weaker around her, and her breaths getting heavier as sleep takes her. Silent tears trace a path down her cheeks, while loud, screaming thoughts make her head throb and keep her awake all night. She regrets being here; regrets naively hoping things could be mended so easily; regrets the way she stayed quiet the first moment she laid eyes on Jeongguk after all those years; knows it’s her fault.

By morning, the sun having climbed its way in the sky for a couple hours already and its rays forcing themselves in their shelter with unwanted light, she can sense Dahye subtly stir under her. Immediately, Eunbi shuts her eyes closed, feigning deep slumber. Instead, her very awake ears perk when she can feel fussing, Dahye sitting up and ultimately shaking the seemingly unconscious girl’s shoulder, “Bibi?”

If all goes wrong, at least Eunbi could win an Oscar for her performance, the way her eyelids flutter open, slow and heavy, only after rubbing them, and a big yawn escapes her mouth. That wasn’t too fake after all, her body weary with the all-nighter. Dahye doesn’t notice, her smile soft, “Did you sleep well? Are you feeling a bit better?”

Eunbi simply nods, her expression void. She barely registers the other girl mentioning something about washing up, and breakfast, “I’ll leave you some time. But if you’re not out by the time I’m done in the bathroom, I’m dragging your ass out.” Just like that, she slips out of the tent.

Left alone once again with silence, Eunbi listens to the faint noises outside— the muffled voices of her roommate greeting Hoseok and Yoongi. At that, the urge to cry returns, and she feels tears sting at her bottom lashes, threatening to spill. But this time, she holds them back. She knows she can’t let herself break down, not now. Not with everyone outside, and especially not with Jeongguk. Still, she doesn’t think the sorrow written all over her features will go unnoticed.

She feels like an outsider, an intruder trespassing on sacred ground. As if the moment she steps out, all eyes will be on her miserable figure, stripping her bare, judging her poor choices, the ones that lead Jeongguk to spit venom in her face hours ago. Making it clear that she doesn't belong there, that she will never be part of what they already have. Of what Jeongguk has built after her.

Last night, she tried to blame him. She wanted to be angry at him, to turn her hurt into something tangible, something outside of herself. But she couldn't. In the end, she could only turn the anger inward, could only blame herself. Being called a bitch by the best person she's ever known, in front of her university friends, was a brutal wake up call. A reminder of how far she has fallen.

The weight of those thoughts paralyses her for a long moment, while a squeaky, high-pitched voice in the back of her brain screams at her to move, if only to avoid the pitying glance she might receive when Dahye returns. Still, her body protests, limbs heavy and muscles tight from the lack of sleep in the small, uncomfortable place.

With a deep breath that quivers in her chest, she forces herself up. For a second, her hand hesitating at the tent’s entrance and hovering over the zipper, she contemplates hiding in here forever, away from the discomfort. But she knows better. The world outside is waiting, and no amount of hesitation will make it disappear. Quickly throwing on a light pink crewneck over her pyjama shorts, she steps out.

Cool air brushes against her skin in a tender manner, gently welcoming her and seemingly easing her nerves. Before she’s forced to acknowledge the others, she moves quickly, her flip flops clad feet making their way to the small wash station. She hopes the freezing water she repeatedly splashes on her face will cleanse away the fog of the sleepless night, and wishes it could also wash away the weight pressing down on her chest. In the mirror, she convinces herself the dark circles under her eyes aren’t that dark after all, and that the unsettling smile she’s practising is convincing enough to finally join Dahye outside.

The makeshift breakfast setup is simple: a few snacks, some bread, fruit. Namjoon, Taehyung and Aera have also joined the small gathering, making it seven of them now, while the others seem to still be asleep in their tents. Eunbi can hear the casual chatter of the group, the way their voices blend together in an easy rhythm that feels foreign to her now.

With her head down, she picks at the small offerings, not really tasting anything, her appetite almost nonexistent. She almost misses Yoongi’s voice beside her, “Did the creams work?”

Eunbi startles slightly, her gaze darting to the older boy, who wears a sweet grin on his lips. She nods, mirroring his smile timidly. Yoongi makes a show of inspecting her nose as he leans closer, without going over the invisible boundary, his eyes squinting with exaggerated seriousness as he impersonates a doctor’s authority, “Yes, yes. They definitely worked. My patient looks so much better now.” His voice mocks a solemn tone, and it makes the girl heartily giggle.

She’s surprised to see this side of the boy, and she briefly wonders if he’s putting on this act just for her sake, because the misery on her features is that obvious even to him, who left the campfire way before the incident had happened. Either way, it works— she feels herself relax, if only a little, sinking back into her chair with a bit more ease.

Then, Aera asks her about the hoodie she’s wearing, going on about how it compliments her complexion perfectly and Dahye chimes in, explaining how it had originally belonged to her, but after the other girl borrowed it once she decided it looked so much better on her friend that she insisted Eunbi kept it. The recalling of those times keep her distracted, the smile on her face growing bigger as Namjoon makes sure she’s refilling her stomach properly, insisting that she needs her strength for the day’s activities, the worry in his furrowed brows making her feel part of something again.

Just as she begins to think she might make it through this, she senses a shift in the atmosphere. Besides her, Dahye tenses, and Aera clears her throat. Eunbi doesn’t have to look up to know why. Jeongguk has joined them. She can feel his presence like a dark cloud hanging over her, suffocating.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, her eyes lift to meet his. His gaze is sharp, eyes shadowed by dark circles that suggest he’s had as restless a night as she has. There’s no trace of warmth, no hint of the familiarity they used to share. Just cold, hard resentment. For a fleeting second, she wills herself to desperately search his face for any sign that she hasn’t lost everything, that there’s still something worth saving. But he quickly diverts his eyes, turning his attention to the others and slipping easily into their conversation. Once again, she feels like a stranger intruding on his world.

As the group’s attention shifts to the boy, Eunbi finds herself spiralling back into her thoughts, struggling to grasp onto anything solid, anything that makes sense. She knows how this will play out: both of them only pretending the other doesn’t exist, but making it clear that same presence is despised, the petty glares and spiteful comments building until one of them finally snaps, just like last night.

To some extent, she understands his frustration. After all, she’s the unwanted guest at his birthday, a painful reminder of a past he’d rather forget. But understanding doesn’t make it hurt any less. She wasn’t expecting to be openly degraded, with such hatred in his face; to feel small and unwelcome in a place that feels as much hers as his. What can she do? It’s not as if she can just get up and disappear. She’s there, he’s there, and they’re stuck in this awkward dance.

He hasn’t tried to make it any less awkward. Her attempts at being civil have been outright dismissed, and the memory of it fills her with the same rage that bubbled up last night. And as she observes him, it only intensifies. She feels herself cycling through the five stages of grief at an inhumane speed and without following its original order, having skipped straight to depression and now bouncing back to anger. When Jeongguk’s eyes meet hers again, the smile he had been giving Jimin fades instantly. She hates that look.

All that heaviness from last night feels like it has been sucked out of her chest, suddenly devoid of any of the previous gloom that had led her to sad tears streaming her cheeks and impending guilt putting her at fault. Nothing’s left, except this tight, burning knot. It’s not sadness anymore, it’s a hot, fierce feeling coiling in her stomach.

It’s Hoseok who breaks the spell, demanding all of their attention on him, his voice taking on a loud and excited tone. Eunbi struggles to make sense of his words through the fog of anger, her slowed down thought process only registering them when the collective holler that follows fully snaps her out of her trance and pulls her back to the present. The first, opening activity of the trip would be trekking. She doesn’t even bother to fake enthusiasm.

It’s only the second day at the campsite, and Eunbi already has a list long enough to fill an entire notebook of reasons why she never should have come. First of all, whatever fragile hope she had about making things right with Jeongguk has probably died a quick death only in those first few hours. And the rest of the trip? It’s packed with outdoor activities that she wouldn’t really proclaim herself a fan of. Did she even consider that before agreeing to this? The small kid still living inside her most likely saw the words “Jeongguk” and “birthday” and hit yes without a second thought. Not paying any mind to the fact that the two of them are no longer those kids in Busan.

When she glances back at said Busan boy, the previous negativity is washed off his face and instead, his eyes are bright and animated, geeking about today’s trek. Her chest tightens, again. It stings. He looks exactly the way he always has, like the Jeongguk she knows, except she’s not the reason for that look on his face, anymore.

It makes her think. Overthink. Weigh her options. Trying to map out the safest way to move around this minefield. Just moments ago, the sight of him had her blood boiling, the fire in his eyes igniting a stronger spark in her own. But she’s also aware her current position doesn’t paint her as the one entitled to put all the blame on him. Especially when this is supposed to be his trip, a way to celebrate with the people he’s building a new life with. She was never part of the equation, and she gets it. A wrong combination led to unwanted results, and now neither of them know how to find the right pieces and put them back together. None of the numbers are adding up.

She doesn’t feel like letting her resentment take over, at least not here and now; last night only went to show emotions are definitely not needed to decode the problem. She’ll carry them quietly, maybe even figure out some kind of solution along the way. Discover different sequences of calculations that could make sense.

For now, she’s set on ignoring him and making sure her presence is ignored back; avoiding a problem and avoiding creating one. Is this the stage of acceptance? If that’s what it can be called, she welcomes it with a long, liberating breath, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Dahye.

Except, several more huffs follow, and Dahye is there to endure all of them: when they’re back in the tent, Eunbi slapping on some concealer to cover her dark circles, then trying to disguise her pallid complexion with blush, ending up groaning and turning to her concerned friend with drawn up eyebrows, “Did I overdo it?”; as she’s zipping up her white tennis skort; rummaging her bag for ages only to slip on the most basic black oversized t-shirt; taking forever to tie her Converses.

Dahye stalls. She’s aware they’re late, can sense it in the way Hoseok is subtly raising his voice outside to make himself heard, “It’s not like we’re totally late on our schedule. Take your sweet time, guys!” He’s sarcastic, if his shaky laughter is anything to go by.

She also knows she doesn’t want to be eaten alive by her best friend, knows better not to rush her right now. She’s had enough experience living with her. So she stays quiet, puts up with her friend’s small crisis and lets her deal with it on her own. Only when it seems like she’s over with it, Dahye calmly asks Eunbi if she feels like she’s ready to go. The answer is uncertain, but Dahye grasps on that small percentuality of sureness and exits the tent either way, before Hoseok turns out to be the one eating her alive.

When they finally step out to join the group, Eunbi releases one last dramatic sigh, and the prolonged sound of it translates into Dahye’s right eyelid twitching. She tries composedly, at first, “Bibi, will you stop doing that?”

”Doing what?”

”Sighing like you’re a damn war veteran!” Her exasperation draws a few chuckles from their friends, including a sneaky giggle from Jimin, observing the interaction and getting Dahye’s attention in the process.

Eunbi mutters a small sorry, the apology dismissed by her now distracted friend, seemingly having forgotten the whole ordeal in a matter of seconds. The other girl seizes the moment to vent, “I’m just getting more stressed by the minute about this whole thing. I told you I shouldn’t have come. What if, I don’t know— I get hurt?” Her eyebrows are raised, dramatic act on, pout displayed, “I’ll blame you.”

Dahye is clearly unimpressed, rolling her eyes amusedly at Eunbi’s efforts, “Bi, you’ll be okay. Just fine.” She faces the shorter one now, hands on her shoulders like a mother sending her child off to summer camp. Well, technically she is about to do that, “Why don’t you try mingling with the others? Let’s pretend I don’t exist. Yeah!”

Dahye’s convincing nods are comically mirrored by Eunbi shaking her head, the desperation on her features going ignored by her taller friend. The last thing she wants right now is exactly mingling with the others. Dahye goes on dissimulating, “Stick next to Namjoon. He, huh— he knows about this kinda stuff. I guess? I’ll catch up with Jimin, okay? Bye, babe!”

Eunbi’s childish protests fall on deaf ears as the other girl slips away. Her one anchor, gone. Not even her best pleading tactics have worked. The muffled curses under her breath are vile, and she wishes Jimin would just make a move on her friend already. Maybe then, all of this would make sense.

Still, she merges with the others. It’s hard to find her place in there, especially with the insecurities plaguing her mind, as everyone splits off into their little duos and trios. Taehyung and Seokjin try to pull her into their usual, weird hypothetical debates, “Let’s say you have a penis. Would you still jack off if when you came your semen was just one big sperm, and afterward you'd have to fight it?”

Despite herself, she enjoys the distraction. Trekking is not so bad when you desperately need your brain to unplug. The trail is not too far from the campsite, circling it and making it ideal for them to wander without getting lost. The summer air is warm, and heavy with the sweet scent of wildflowers and the earthy aroma of sun-warmed pine needles.

With the path gradually climbing uphill, the initially dense forest begins to thin, and with it Eunbi’s thoughts follow, loosening with each step. She’s not sure if it’s the silly joy filling her when colourful butterflies flutter past, or the brief interaction she entertains with a small chipmunk darting across the way, but there’s something calming about the rhythm of it all. The green all around her takes over her spiralling mind.

Eventually, Dahye’s suggestion turns out to be a good one, and soon Eunbi finds herself covering most part of the walk with Namjoon by her side, who’s a walking encyclopedia on the local fauna. His easy conversation and gentle humour slowly start to chip away at the tension in her shoulders. He’s good company— listens well, comes up with just the right responses, and somehow makes her feel less like she’s tagging along and more like she belongs.

Time slips away when being this disconnected to the chaos of the city but so connected to this bubble of green and quiet. Sharing that with her friends doesn’t make her worry about the clock, though. She laughs loudly, and speaks comfortably. And just like that, she’s unaware of the first two hours that go by with walking and chatting, this last part ceasing gradually when the path becomes steeper and more rugged, their breaths getting heavier with each large step. But the effort is worth it when they reach the summit and are rewarded with a breathtaking view. Eunbi’s eyes light up at the sight, even more so when she spots the perfect rock to plop down on and gulp water from her flask.

Before she can, it takes a few other seconds for her eyes to cover the whole scene, and when they do she notices Jeongguk. He’s sitting next to Iseul, his clothes similar to the ones Eunbi is wearing, just colour inverted with a white oversized t-shirt and black gym shorts. He doesn’t seem to be aware of her presence, yet. He’s laughing at something on the girl’s phone. Eunbi silently scoffs.

The attention is brought on her and Namjoon the moment the latter greets his friend, who acts as if she doesn’t exist. Eunbi is not any less of an actor, pretending to be much more interested in the panorama rather than the conversation the two men are having.

While her companion takes some pictures of the scenery, Eunbi drinks as much water as needed to feel hydrated without needing to go to the bathroom in the next 10 seconds. The walk is still long, and the campsite still far. For that reason, and totally not because she can’t stand the sight of Jeongguk sitting next to the short haired girl giggling about one of their inside jokes, she announces, “I’m ready to go again.”

Namjoon looks a bit taken aback, “Already?”

”Yeah. Let’s go.”

”You sure you don’t wanna rest?” Eunbi only shakes her head, fixing the backpack on her shoulders. The taller boy chuckles, “And here I thought you hated trekking.”

Eunbi lets out a genuine laugh. It’s refreshing to hear, even if she can feel the interaction being followed attentively by a pair of curious eyes, and when she gives in and looks their way, they immediately focus on the trees behind her. Whatever.

Just as she starts walking to follow behind Namjoon, her foot trips on a rock and she stumbles. Her first instinct, accompanied by a loud squeal, is to grab Namjoon’s shoulders for support, and luckily the boy promptly catches her. From the corner of her eye, she swears she sees Jeongguk nearly leaping to his feet. His hand twitches before he forces it back to his lap.

”Are you okay?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide with concern, hands steady on her forearms as he checks her foot with his gaze for any sprain, “Wait, your shoe is untied.”

He swiftly drops on his knee and works on the laces of her shoes, delicately inspecting her ankle in the process. Eunbi looks down at him, and she feels her cheeks flare slightly, both because of the embarrassment and the action feeling a little too intimate. She diverts her eyes, and her gaze automatically lands on Jeongguk. His face is immediately wiped from what, for a split second, looked like fright. Worry. He’s back to indifference, looking behind his shoulders, and she figures she must have imagined it.

”Can you walk?” Namjoon’s voice pulls her back, his figure now standing tall in front of her. She nods, shaking off the overwhelment, and assures she’s okay. Namjoon doesn’t believe her until she’s forced to take a walking test, going back and forth for one minute before he’s fully convinced she hasn’t twisted her ankle or anything.

When they set off again, laughter bubbles up between them as Namjoon cheekily makes fun of her squeal and her clumsiness, and Eunbi lightly shoves him. She’s glad she’s going through this with him; it’s making them closer and she finds they have so much more in common than she initially thought.

For a moment, she regrets not even sitting down for a second to rest, her feet protesting in her old Converses, but she quickly realises the other alternative and prefers having her legs hurt over being in the presence of Jeongguk, surrounded by quiet, and nature, and all the possible existent reasons to be kind to each other. Which they’re not really planning on doing, right now.

Even more with Iseul there. Eunbi doesn’t know why, but something about the girl rubs her the wrong way. It’s not like they ever got a chance to bond, but it feels like Iseul hasn’t even tried. They don’t have anything against each other, but the way she’s sticking to Jeongguk’s side after yesterday’s fiasco brings Eunbi to not really contemplate the possibility of them getting closer either.

The trail descends into a different path of the forest, this one denser and cooler, providing the duo with a break from the midday heat. Their pace is slower, and the talking quiets down too in favour of soaking in the tranquillity that surrounds them. Eunbi feels herself recover from the previous slip and sighs, this time contentedly.

The peace doesn’t last for long. Behind her shoulders, her ears pick up hurried footsteps, the cracking of the leaves stronger under them, the unmistakable sound of someone catching up. Eunbi doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, she can sense his presence like an itch she can’t scratch. Jeongguk reaches her, his voice almost touching her neck, “Can you move out of the way?”

There’s plenty of space. Hell, the path could fit five trucks. Her eyes close momentarily, searching for all the strength she needs to resist the provocation. She steps aside, set on not paying him too much mind. She doesn’t want to be affected by his tone. She’s decided to let him be, and think what he wants of her.

Jeongguk doesn’t seem too fond of the silence he’s met with, though. Was probably expecting her witty impulses to react. But she ignores him. He walks past her, but it looks like his initial aim at surpassing her goes forgotten. His steps are shorter, not covering big distances anymore and keeping him at an arm’s length from her, Iseul beside him oblivious to the tension.

He looks back after Eunbi thought he would limit himself to the snappy tone, but she was wrong, obviously, the glint in his eyes daring her to respond, “Wow, you’re really slow.”

Eunbi tries not to snap, she really tries. Thinks of brushing the comment with a simple dismissing chuckle, pretending it doesn’t make her hand twitch. Her tongue poke her inner cheek. But it’s like the minimal sight of him gets her burning with annoyance.

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t aware this was a marathon. Good luck winning!” Is this enough of a bitch answer? She hopes so, the smile that accompanies it deathly sarcastic. She just doesn’t want to deal with Jeongguk after last night. Fears the resentment is still too alive for her to handle it better.

Of course, he doesn’t back down from a good childish banter, though, “You’re still slow.”

”Well, I’m trekking.”

”And you’re seriously wearing Converses to do that.” His eyes fall to her feet with a delighted scoff. He’s unbelievable.

”So sorry I couldn’t afford trekking shoes.” The concern is clearly faked, and she hopes she just imagined Jeongguk rolling his eyes subtly.

”That’s why you’re slow.” He has the audacity to raise his eyebrows and shrug at Eunbi’s speechless state, the argument resulting in the dumbest interaction she’s had in days, leaving her pissed nonetheless.

Jeongguk rewinds his fast paced walk, not really considering poor Iseul trying to keep up with him. Both her and Namjoon are left disoriented with the meaningless bickering they found themselves spectators of, but they wisely stay silent to prevent stirring the pot further.

Eunbi, however, doesn’t even notice the sudden quiet, the thoughts screaming in her brain making up for it. She feels completely blindsided. All those times she tried to make even the smallest kind of conversation with him, she was ignored. Her smiles, kind requests and efforts to maintain a friendly demeanour— completely fucking dismissed. And now, just when she’d decided the best thing she could do for both of them was to back off, to give them each the space they needed to avoid any further animosity, what does he do? He searches for it. Purposefully searches for it, as if he wants to provoke some kind of reaction out of her. She’s so fed up. What’s his deal? Why seek out conflict when they were finally starting to find some semblance of peace in their indifference? It’s infuriating. She can’t help the small growl of frustration that escapes her lips. God, what an asshole.

A small scoff from Namjoon pulls her out of her daze, and she glances his way, her face a picture of confusion and irritation. The boy shakes his head, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips, “He can be, sometimes.”

It’s only then that she realises she must have muttered her last thought out loud. She laughs softly at her slip, sheepishly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Sorry about that. We’re just… not exactly on good terms, right now.”

Namjoon is silent as her admission hangs in the air, unpressured. Instead, he just nods, his eyes reflecting a quiet empathy, inviting but not intrusive. He’s giving her the choice, whether she wishes to open up or carry that baggage on her own. It’s not like he’s oblivious to the tension between her and Jeongguk; the whole group would agree it has been evident ever since Eunbi joined. But neither she nor Jeongguk offered any explanations, so there was no choice but to adapt to the hostility. Dahye had only once hinted at the fact that they’d known each other for a long time, letting it slip casually, much to Eunbi’s silent dismay, but beyond that, no other details were ever shared.

Eunbi hesitates. She trusts Namjoon, the way she trusts the others, really— would vomit all her feelings on his t-shirt right now. But it wouldn’t feel right to give only her side of the story, knowing Jeongguk has lived in the dark about certain truths for years. He probably harbours his own complicated feelings, ones he’s kept close to his chest for a long time, feelings that would be overshadowed by her own if she spoke out of turn. She doesn’t think it’s her place to say what happened.

The silence stretches on, and Eunbi is more conflicted with each passing second. Her eyes drift to the figure of Jeongguk moving farther away, his silhouette becoming smaller with every step until he rounds a corner and disappears from view. With him goes the moment, the possibility of Namjoon ever knowing what happened, at least from her. He seems to accept this, doesn’t push her to speak, and she appreciates it when he shifts the conversation, making a light-hearted comment about the trees and their unusual shapes. She smiles.

The afternoon sun beats down on them, making the air thick and sticky. Time drags on, more hours roll by, the trail winding endlessly through the woods. They find spots to sit now and then, taking short breaks to catch their breath. But the further they trek, the more Eunbi grows frustrated. Her calves ache, muscles burning from the climb, and she has to stop every so often to rub at them, cursing under her breath. Namjoon forces himself to not laugh at that, instead keeping his usual calm and patient, assuring her with a grin that they’re almost there. Though she’s pretty sure he’s just saying that to keep her spirits up.

Eventually, their slow pace brings them closer to some of the others who had lagged behind. They all wear the same weary expressions, the exhaustion etched into their features. They try to relieve some of it by distracting themselves from the thought of their feet hurting, one of them starting a game of Guess the Song by humming the melody. It quickly dissolves into a mess of off-key notes and missed beats, their tired brains unable to keep up, and it’s not long before they’re all laughing. The kind of belly laughs that make your sides ache.

Eunbi finds herself genuinely enjoying the moment, forgetting all about asking to sit down every five minutes, even catching herself humming along. She discovers Taehyung has quite a talent for singing, and notices how blatantly obvious Aera’s crush on him is.

By the time they finally reach the campsite, Eunbi feels a wave of relief wash over her, so strong it nearly brings tears to her eyes. The sun has started its descent, casting a golden glow over the clearing, and the heat of the day is beginning to be replaced by a cool, refreshing breeze that lifts the hair from her sweaty neck. She falls into step beside Dahye, who has reappeared after what feels like hours spent with Jimin. They don’t need words; they walk side by side in silence, until the shorter one bumps her shoulder lightly against Dahye’s, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Shut up,” the taller one rolls her eyes at the unspoken tease, though the grin on her face suggests she’s anything but annoyed.

Eunbi’s hands are immediately up in the air, mocking innocence, ”Didn’t say a single word.”

”Sure, you didn’t.” Dahye retorts, but her tone is playful. “Anyways, the others want to hit the lake before dinner. You in?”

”I’ll pass. I need a nap. I’m dead tired from all this. When I catch Hoseok, I swear.” Eunbi’s voice is half-joking, half-serious, her narrowed eyes suggesting she may be even a bit too serious, and Dahye just laughs.

They part ways, Eunbi disappearing in her tent and relishing the thought of a few quiet moments to herself. As much as she loves the company, sometimes it drains her. Sometimes, she just needs a moment to breathe, be with her own self and nobody else. Especially given the amount of times her sanity has been tested during the first two days of this trip.

Sleep comes to her easily, pulling her under as soon as her head hits the small, makeshift pillow. The muffled sounds of her friends outside — splashes from the lake, bursts of laughter — soothe her into a deep, much-needed, dreamless rest.

When she stirs awake, the sun has already dipped below the horizon, and she can feel the noises from the group much closer now. The air is filled with the mouth-watering aroma of roasting meat and vegetables, and it’s said delicious smell that puts her five senses to operate again. Her stomach grumbling wakes her before Dahye can, the tent flaps open just as her friend was about to poke her head inside.

Eunbi blinks awake groggily, stumbling out bleary-eyed, and Dahye mercilessly laughs at her still half-asleep face, “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

”Fuck you.”

The teasing is playful, and Eunbi cheekily grins as her friend giggles. She wraps a hoodie around her shoulders to ward off the growing chill and keep some of the warmth from the nap, then makes her way to the fire where the others are gathered. When they take in her sleep-dazed state, they don’t miss a beat and start poking fun at her, pulling her hood up over her head or sneakily tickling her sides until she’s laughing despite herself. The laughter feels good, like a release, and she finds herself slowly waking up, becoming more aware, more present.

A large campfire crackles in the centre of the group, its flames dancing in the cool evening air, Yoongi and Seokjin in charge of dinner. Someone’s turned on a portable speaker, and soft music drifts through the campsite, blending with the sounds of laughter and the sizzle of food. Eunbi sits back, letting the warmth of the fire seep into her skin, content to simply listen, to watch the way the firelight plays across everyone’s faces.

It’s almost too easy to relax into the peaceful rhythm of the evening, her still vulnerable brain unwinding the tension she wasn’t aware of from her shoulders. The heat of the fire, the hum of laughter, and the quiet murmur of conversation blend together, creating a cocoon of comfort she hadn’t realised she needed. It’s as she starts letting herself be taken over by that familiar, soothing calm — the same one she’d found in her tent — that a faint alarm goes off in her brain. Its tiny beep only grows louder until it’s impossible to ignore. Something’s off. Her contentment feels misplaced. Like she’s forgotten a crucial detail that’s only now creeping back into her awareness.

The realisation slams into her like a wave, jolting her fully awake, the moment her gaze lands on Jeongguk. Suddenly, everything snaps back into sharp focus. His face, illuminated by the flickering firelight, is a stark reminder of the reality she had temporarily escaped. The events of the past few days come rushing back. Right, quick recap: she’s on Jeongguk’s birthday trip. Jeongguk, who can’t stand the sight of her. Jeongguk, who had called her a bitch last night. How could she almost forget that minor detail?

So here she is, in the middle of the woods, surrounded by friends and food, but all she can focus on is Jeongguk. The one person here who probably wishes she wasn’t. No sense dwelling on it now, though. She’s there, there’s no going back. Her only aim is to make it through the night. Make it through the night without repeating yesterday, or making things even worse. For that to happen, she just has to ignore the object of her epiphany like she has been trying to ever since the stressful day started. She hopes he’ll be smart enough to do the same.

It seems like it when dinner goes by without any notable tension, which is a small miracle in itself. Jeongguk seems just as engrossed by the food as she is, its hot, comforting and delicious taste being a welcome distraction, especially with that distinct smoky flavour from being cooked over the open fire. Everyone is too busy devouring their meals to talk much, but their sparkling eyes speak with gratitude for their hyungs’ magic hands. Eunbi uses the unusual quiet to gaze up at the sky, the stars slowly coming out to dot its darkening blue.

Though, peace never lasts long with this group. Jimin breaks the silence as he cracks open a beer bottle with a grin that spells mischief, “Let’s play a game.”

Taehyung, already leaning back in his chair with a lazy smile, nods, chiming in, “Since we’ve got alcohol, how about Never Have I Ever?”

”Just don’t ask stupid questions because you want to get drunk,” Dahye warns, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Her comment earns a round of laughter, easing the tension that had settled during the quiet, their voices soon overtaking the crackling of the fire once again.

Jimin hands the beer bottles, making sure everyone has one as he sits back with a teasing glint in his gaze. He locks eyes with Dahye, challenging her, “Okay, I got the perfect one, then. Never have I ever… pooped.”

The absurdity of the statement catches the others off guard, and they all erupt in silly chuckles, taking a sip. Except for Dahye, who sits there with a perfectly straight face. Jimin raises an eyebrow, expectantly waiting for her to drink, but she just shrugs, “Girls don’t poop.”

The girls echo her sentiment with mock seriousness, filling the camp with sarcastic agreements and playful banter, while a debate kicks off between Dahye and Jimin about the biological impossibility of her assertion. It’s cut short when Iseul eagerly starts smacking Jeongguk’s thigh by her side, her excitement palpable and getting everyone’s attention in the process, “Ooh, I got one! Never have I ever stolen something.”

Most of the group drinks at that, Yoongi snorting blatantly, and Iseul frowns in disappointment, expecting a different outcome. Dahye chuckles, “Babe, everyone’s stolen at some point. That was too easy. It’s okay, let’s just keep going. Jeongguk, your turn.”

Next to Iseul, Jeongguk seems to think for a moment, then he grins, “Never have I ever… rode a motorcycle.” He gulps down a big sip from his bottle.

”Are you looking to get drunk tonight, Ggukie?” It’s his best friend teasing him with wiggling eyebrows, and the younger just shrugs with a lazy smirk.

Eunbi drinks too, at that. Now that she thinks of it, the first and only time she was on a bike, Jeongguk was taking her home and she was holding her arms tight around his torso, his helmet secured under her chin and his jacket wrapped around her body. That’s the last nice gesture she’s seen from him, and the thought stirs something complicated in her chest. She glances at him without meaning to, catching his eye for just a second before they both look away.

Hoseok is quick with another question, “Never have I ever gone skinny-dipping.”

Only Seokjin and Sora drink, and the group teases them with a long, exaggerated holler. The two love birds share a sheepish smile, their faces turning a soft shade of pink under the firelight.

”We should all do that right now.” It’s Taehyung proposing it, his tone half-serious, half-challenging.

Dahye pulls a face, “The thought alone is making me want to vomit.” She mutters, and the laughter that follows becomes the soundtrack of their night for what feels like hours, the game stretching on with each question getting weirder and more personal.

The beer flows freely, and Eunbi finds herself relaxing more than she expected, her body sinking comfortably into her chair. She laughs at Hoseok’s ridiculous question about eating bugs and groans at Jimin recalling the time he laughed so hard he pissed his pants as an adult, sipping on her bottle as the group continues to tease one another.

The loop restarts for the nth time, Iseul piping up again, “Never have I ever sneaked out.”

Surprisingly, only Namjoon, Jeongguk and Eunbi drink this time. The reaction is immediate, the group’s interest piqued, Dahye curiously turning to her friend, “When was that, Bibi?”

Eunbi doesn’t register the implications of her light giggle, nor the way her eyes soften as she gets caught up in the memory, “Back when I was in middle school.” Young and restless, desperate for the thrill. Besides her forever best friend.

Always a bit more noisy than he should be, Hoseok chimes in, “Were you with anyone?”

She chuckles, the answer coming to her lips almost instinctively, “Oh, I was with—“ Her gaze flickers to Jeongguk, and suddenly the smile drops from her face. Right. She always seems to forget where they stand now. It’s like the kid inside her is still desperately clinging to those moments, fighting to have him back, to drag him into her orbit.

Jeongguk lets out a small scoff, barely audible over the crackling fire, but she catches it. His expression is closed off, guarded. Eunbi clears her throat, “Huh, it doesn’t matter.”

The air grows thick with tension, the silence that follows almost deafening. Some of them understand the awkwardness, sensing the history that neither Eunbi nor Jeongguk ever fully explained. Others, like Hoseok, are a little clueless. He turns to the other boy, grinning like a cat who caught the canary, “Ooh, Ggukie, you drank too, right? Who was it with?”

Jeongguk shrugs, a dark, unamused smirk spreading across his lips. His eyes don’t leave Eunbi, his tone sarcastic but cold, “Apparently, it doesn’t matter.”

The affronted girl narrows her eyes, trying to mask the sting of his tone. The jab hits deeper than she’d like to admit, even more when they both know exactly why she said that. Why she had to say it. Unspeakable words are plastered on their wounded expressions, but she looks down at her hands before her heart betrays her, fighting its way up her throat to scream them all out.

It’s ironic how the questions that follow feel like one stab after the other, almost purposefully touching a raw nerve from the past, memories she’d rather not revisit now. Never have I ever used someone else’s toothbrush. Never have I ever climbed out a window. It’s small, silly moments that she knows — hopes — Jeongguk remembers too. And she can’t help but search for that sign of recognition in his face. Or anything, at this point. The slightest spark in his eyes. The imperceptible jolt of his hand. She wants to tell him. It matters. It matters. It matters.

But does it matter to him now? Did every single piece of the puzzle get lost in the storm? Did Jeongguk always feel so unreachable? Were his eyes always so devoid of light when he looked at her? She misses stargazing.

When the weight on her heart becomes too much to bear, the weariness from the day and the effects of the sleepless night tangling with the complicated emotions she’s feeling and translating into frustrated tears welling up in her eyes, she gets up muttering a half-hearted excuse about being tired and heads for her tent.

Inside, focusing on the fabric ceiling rather than both her heart and brain exceptionally teaming up only to scream at her to find a way to escape from all this (maybe steal Namjoon’s car keys, or swim her way back to the city), she wills her eyes to close and begs whatever god who might be listening to spare her from more misery. Just for tomorrow. Please.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The divinities Eunbi tried to reach with her desperate pleas must have been terribly busy last night, because tomorrow is here and it’s charged with even more tension and hostility than she thought they could ever harbour for one another.

Today’s activity is canoeing, and with the surprisingly adequate amount of sleep she managed to get, her first approach is even optimistic. She’s decided to start off with the positive mindset that things couldn’t possibly get any worse. Sat in the small two-person canoe, she’s determined to steer the day in a better direction, to navigate the rough waters of their fraught relationship. Even if a new wave of something worse than what already happened is aimed directly at her, she’d be able to handle it.

Only thing she didn’t exactly consider was the counterpart of the clash possibly not sharing the same intentions as hers. Which is exactly what is happening, Jeongguk never backing down from stirring the pot further only to obtain a rank, grisly soup made with pettiness and resentment, spoon-feeding it to her with every chance he gets. Though she can still say she’s tasted worse from him, the bitterness lingers, coating her tongue like bile.

The setting for their little showdown is picturesque, almost mockingly so. The river glimmers under the afternoon sun, its surface reflecting a golden hue that dances across the water, and the hills in the distance are bathed in a soft, amber glow. Nature itself is trying to soothe the tension, yet it only seems to amplify the dissonance. The universe must be testing her. Can you handle this one, Bee?

The group naturally splits off into pairs, reflecting yesterday’s layout, with Eunbi and Namjoon finding themselves navigating together, just as Dahye is with Jimin, and Jeongguk with Iseul. It starts off peacefully enough. They glide slowly along the river, their paddles dipping gently into the water, the only sound the quiet murmurs of conversation and the occasional splash.

Eunbi allows herself to relax. She chuckles at Namjoon’s poor attempts at taking aesthetically pleasing pictures of her, then shows him how it’s done when she points the camera at him, sealing the moment with a lovely shot of her friend enveloped in an ochre light, his dimples sheepishly showing. She grazes the cold water with her finger, getting lost in the simple way it dances with her movements. She closes her eyes and tilts her face up to the sun, letting its warmth seep into her skin.

Though she should have anticipated the serenity being almost surreal, and should have considered herself deranged to even think it could continue like that. She’s pulled out of her moment when the water beside her canoe suddenly churns with agitation.

What she sees on her right is a sight that throws all the optimism and positivity from this morning right in the bin, and replaces it with the effects of Jeongguk’s wicked soup. Said chef shoots past her at an unnecessary, almost reckless speed for what’s supposed to be a leisurely excursion among friends. His canoe slices through the water with aggressive precision, sending ripples crashing against Eunbi’s boat. See, she would keep her composure in any other situation; would continue straight on her path of ignoring him, no matter how unsuccessful the previous attempts had been. She’s afraid she’ll keep failing, though.

And it’s really just because when she sees how he’s paddling with a furious intensity, his muscles straining with effort while Iseul is squealing and screaming in front of him, her hands gripping the sides of the boat as she begs him to slow down, it’s clear Jeongguk is doing it on purpose. Acting out another one of his plans to get a reaction out of her, not caring how down things could go at that point. Why should she, then? It’s when his eyes lock onto hers as he passes, daring to push all her buttons, that she finds her answer.

Eunbi’s blood boils. She’s speechless with the immaturity, but best believe she’s coming on ten times stronger with it. She just can’t wrap her mind around the fact that it seems the more she tries to interact with him, the more she gets pushed away; but the more she keeps her distance, the more he seeks for her reaction. What is he trying to prove? What is he aiming to get out of her? Eunbi doesn’t exactly have time to entertain the moral, rational part of her brain and puzzle over his motives, her own childishness busying her with gripping the paddles tight, her knuckles turning white as she channels all her frustration into rowing. She puts all the strength she can muster to try and catch up to Jeongguk without popping a vein. Namjoon notices the sudden shift in pace, even if minimal with Eunbi’s laughable efforts at moving faster, nonetheless startled by the abrupt burst of energy.

”Bi, what are you—“

”Joon, help me overtake Gguk.” It’s said through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, fixated only on the target ahead. Namjoon is disoriented. Does she even realise the use of the nickname? It doesn’t look like that as she keeps going undeterred, even with her companion initially not collaborating, too confused to settle on what to do. Eventually, he sighs and grips his own paddle, deciding to help his friend in whatever battle she’s waging. He glances back to see just how far Jeongguk has gotten and shakes his head.

”You two are literal kids, you do know that?” Namjoon mutters, his comment going ignored.

Jeongguk, meanwhile, senses them closing in. A competitive glint flashes in his eyes. He doubles down, paddling harder, sending more water splashing in every direction. Eunbi isn't far behind, and for a moment it feels like they’re the only two on the river, locked in this ridiculous race. They’re both too stubborn to back down, too caught up in their own challenge to notice how idiotic they look.

Namjoon sighs again, raising his voice over the chaos, “Guys, seriously, this is getting out of hand.”

Iseul echoes his concern, a nervous edge to her voice, “Yeah, Joon’s right. Please, Ggukkie? We’re getting too far away from the others. It’s going to be a nightmare rowing back!”

Her whines go unnoticed by Jeongguk, who keeps his gaze straight on Eunbi as she has managed to catch up and is now beside him, mirroring that same flame in her orbs. He distractly acknowledges the two innocent spectators, “I just wanted to go and see… that thing over there.” He calls back, voice strained as he keeps his eyes locked on his rival. He doesn’t even know what he’s pointing at— there’s nothing but more water and distant trees.

”Oh, that… thing,” Eunbi adds, equally unconvincing. They exchange a glance, both wearing narrowed eyes and gritted teeth, determined not to be the first to admit defeat.

Their canoes race neck and neck, the water splashing around them as if reflecting the tension in the air. It’s a childish competition, one that speaks to their unresolved feelings, both wanting to interact, to be noticed by the other, but neither willing to show it’s because they care.

And mostly, it’s messy. Definitely not what two people should be attempting to do on their first time canoeing. On one side, their inexperience comes handy as it doesn’t completely isolate them from the starting point, but it still shouldn’t be happening. And it becomes more and more frantic as shown by their drawn faces and clumsy movements. A disaster of any kind should have been predicted at any second from that only.

It happens when Jeongguk leans too far over the edge, his canoe wobbling dangerously. Iseul lets out a high-pitched scream, gripping the sides of the boat. Eunbi’s heart leaps into her throat, all thoughts of their petty race forgotten in an instant.

“Gguk, careful!” She shouts, her voice thick with concern. Without thinking, she reaches out with her paddle, trying to steady his canoe from a distance. For a moment, everything else falls away— the tension, the bickering, the hurt. All she sees is him, about to fall, and her instinct to protect him kicks in.

Jeongguk manages to regain his balance just in time, his canoe righting itself with a lurch. Everything pauses. He lets out a breath of relief, a small, surprised chuckle escaping his lips. Eunbi exhales too, a soft, almost involuntary smile forming on her face. It lasts a second, but it feels like more when they share a look different from all the others. Relief. I’m glad you’re safe. Recognition. Thank you. Stillness.

But then reality snaps back into place. They both realise what they’re doing, and their expressions harden almost simultaneously. Eunbi quickly looks away, her face flushing with embarrassment. Jeongguk mutters, self-reproaching, “God, this is so stupid.”

The brief moment of softness vanishes the instant Eunbi catches his words, and she snaps, her voice rising childishly with indignation, “You started this!”

Jeongguk scoffs, “Me? You’re the one who wanted to overtake me!”

“You were the one paddling like a maniac!”

“I literally almost fell in the water because of you.”

Eunbi’s eyes get unbelievably wider with disbelief, a sarcastic laugh escaping her, “Oh, that was not because of me. That’s because you are incompetent.”

“Don’t throw big words at me now.”

“Sorry, I’ll lower my vocabulary down for you to understand.”

The childish bickering stretches on for astonishingly long minutes, the volume of their voices rising over the gentle sounds of the river. Namjoon, who had been rowing quietly, finally has enough. With a frustrated sigh, he takes the paddles and makes it his own solo mission to row back toward the others by himself, muttering under his breath, “I can’t believe I have to do this.”

His comment is mostly drowned out by the relentless sparring between Eunbi and Jeongguk, who are too engrossed in their argument to notice that Namjoon is now paddling alone, their strained voices echoing across the water. Jeongguk even goes as far as to row his canoe back behind his hyung’s just so he can have the last word in. It’s ridiculous, really— a silly argument born from a place neither of them is willing to acknowledge.

“Wow, that’s real mature of you, Eunbi. What’s next, you gonna stick your tongue out at me?”

She bristles, her cheeks flushing with the effort the rage is taking out of her, “I might as well if you keep acting like a dick!”

Jeongguk sneers, “Oh, please. I’m not the one who started this whole stupid race.”

Eunbi is aware the more she keeps it going, the more she’ll fall right into his trap but she fears she’s already too deep to back down now, “You were showing off!”

“And you were just so jealous you couldn’t stand it.”

“Enough! Both of you!” It’s Namjoon who finally snaps, his voice cutting through the chaos like a whip. He gives the oars a decisive pull, the canoe cutting through the water with renewed force. His voice is stern, and much different from the calm tone Eunbi has grown accustomed to, his patience had clearly worn thin, “I can’t believe I’m stuck in the middle of this… whatever this is. My ears are bleeding. If you two want to sort out whatever childish feud you’re having, do it on dry land. And away from me.”

The sudden authority in the older guy’s voice silences them both, and the quiet that falls upon them is as much a blessing as deafening. There’s a beat of awkward tension as they both realise how ridiculous they must look. Two grown adults behaving like squabbling children and shut down by their yelling, frustrated father. The reality of the situation finally starts to sink in. They’re too far from the rest of the group, their petty race having pulled them far off, all because of their stubbornness and bruised egos.

What follows is what should have surrounded them right from the beginning, stillness only interrupted by the flushing of the water as it gets caressed by their paddles rowing back to their initial position. Eunbi’s face burns with embarrassment, and with the realisation of how low she’s stooped. The urge to apologise to Namjoon itches at the back of her throat, but pride prevents her from doing it in front of Jeongguk.

No one dares add a word, not even a breath too loud, the tension lingering but now tinged with a sense of shame. Other than the rhythmic splash of their oars and the distant laughter of their friends, the only sound that can be occasionally heard is Namjoon’s bewildered scoffs and muttered comments. The other two know better than to cut the thin thread they’re all clutching onto.

But the chop comes, and it’s Iseul’s voice breaking the silence, soft and tentative, “You know, we’re all here to have fun. Can we just… try to get along for a little while?”

Eunbi has to bite her tongue. Otherwise, she fears any words that might leave her lips could permanently push Iseul away from the already slim possibility of them becoming friends. She keeps her eyes closed, a long exhale escaping her lips, irritation flaring up at the simplicity of the comment. As if it hadn’t already crossed her mind that they should be getting along. What a genius idea, truly.

Jeongguk seems to notice the tense silence that follows, especially the tightness in Eunbi’s expression and how Iseul’s well-meaning comment has only added fuel to the fire. He turns to his companion and offers her a reassuring smile, even if it feels a bit forced, “It’s okay, Isu. Let’s just head back.” His tone is gentle, trying to ease the awkward atmosphere, the nod that accompanies it recognising her effort, as well as its effective uselessness.

Taking in Jeongguk’s unnecessary, oversweet tone towards the other girl involuntarily causes Eunbi to scoff audibly, the sound loud and deliberate, followed by nothing. She keeps her gaze fixed on the water, refusing to look at either of them. But she feels Jeongguk’s narrowed eyes on her, “What now?”

”Nothing,” Eunbi mutters, the sarcasm in her tone cutting through the air. “Just love how you can turn on the charm when it suits you.”

Jeongguk’s jaw tightens for what feels like the nth time, fearing a possible cramp soon affecting the muscles of his mouth, but he keeps his response measured, “I’m just trying to not make this worse.”

A fake coo follows, Eunbi’s voice mockingly replicating his sudden calmness, “Oh, how nice of you, Ggukkie.”

“For the love of God, will you two drop it? Please?” Namjoon’s frustrated groan interrupts once again the bickering from stretching on, his patience truly at its limit. He increases the pace of his rowing, as if trying to physically distance himself from the scene.

The uncomfortable silence lingers for the rest of the paddling back, and it stretches on endlessly, mirroring the distance they’ve travelled in their pointless, self-inflicted race. If it isn’t the consequences of their own stupid actions. Eunbi dips her paddle in the water with more intention, fixating on the ripples spread out from each stroke, refusing to meet Namjoon’s annoyed gaze. She’s ashamed of the way she’s let her emotions and bottled up feelings rule a situation that could have been easily avoided, though she stubbornly refuses to fully acknowledge it, let alone admit that she might be in the wrong.

Still, Eunbi uses the time it gets to reach the shore to work on her breathing, counting every pause between her exhales, willing to free her mind from the chaotic flow of thoughts before she regrets letting them cling to her like a shadow and cause a bigger scene. The sight of the land approaching should bring some relief, but instead it only amplifies the sense of urgency gnawing at her. The moment the canoe nudges against the land, the sun beginning its descent, bathing the landscape in a warm light, Eunbi wastes no time making herself aware of her surroundings, as she’s already on her feet, moving with a speed that betrays her desperation to escape the tension that’s been suffocating her.

She’s unsteady as she steps out, the ground feeling oddly solid beneath her after the wobbly rhythm of the canoe. Namjoon notices her haste and instinctively reaches out to steady her, but she’s stepping away, her shoes sinking into the damp shore.

”I’m going back to the campsite,” Eunbi says, her voice clipped, the words barely more than a whisper after the raw shouting followed by complete muteness.

Namjoon, still seated, frowns as he looks up at her. Concern clouds his features, and he’s quick to offer, “Wait for me, I’ll take you back.”

Eunbi shakes her head, her refusal as gentle as it is resolute. A tight-lipped smile plays on her lips, though it doesn’t reach her eyes, “You should stay and enjoy the rest of the day.”

There’s a sheepish, unspoken apology written in her eyes, a fleeting look of regret that she’s too proud to voice. She unconsciously scrunches her nose, a telltale sign of her lingering embarrassment, and doesn’t even register Namjoon’s nod as she turns to start walking, eager to put distance between herself and the situation, but mostly from Jeongguk’s attentive eyes still throwing jabs her way.

As she walks back to the tents, Eunbi’s mind is already racing ahead to dinner. It’s been her biggest concern for a while now, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach, an instinctive dread that tonight will go as badly as she fears. Dinner always seems to bring out the worst in them, the frustration of the day simmering just below the surface until it boils over and erupts in sharp words and bitter exchanges. She can feel that exact feeling brewing dangerously in her stomach, but she knows she’d rather suppress it than have it consume her completely only for more pieces of her heart to break.

Dropping onto one of the deck chairs around the campsite, she waits for it to dissipate with her knees up to her chest. It’s hard at first, the sudden quiet too loud and overwhelming her with the pent up exasperation from today. It only fuels that part of her that still hasn’t moved on from the very first night, the one that set the tone for everything that followed, who harbours anger and spite for what Jeongguk had spat in her face with apparently no remorse. She wants to get back at him, to make him regret those words, to hurt him as much as he’s hurt her. But the bigger, remaining part of her knows she’s already done enough of that.

Would it even be worthy? What would she gain from it? Would getting back at Jeongguk truly bring her any peace, or would it only deepen the rift between them? She knows the answer, but it’s a bitter pill to swallow. Normally, she wouldn’t let any other person get away so easily with such a comment, but with Jeongguk, she’s aware he has lived with worse feelings for years, and that probably isn’t even the worst of what his heart holds. She’s not ready to wake that monster. Doesn’t know if she’s prepared to confront the truth behind the look he gives her. Doesn’t want to know if that truth is dictated by resentment, or if it’s all that’s left of her in Jeongguk’s view. Because if she’s honest with herself, no matter how angry she is, she can’t deny that she understands why he feels this way. And that understanding, more than anything, is what terrifies her the most.

Hours slip by in a blur, Eunbi stilling on her chair and giving space for her thoughts to unleash before it’s too late to put a collar back on again. The sun continues its descent, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, and when it dips down the horizon, the campfire that has been just a pile of logs earlier is now crackling with life, its warmth spreading through the group as they gather for dinner. The smell of grilled food wafts through the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the forest and the cool breeze.

It’s a comforting atmosphere, one that’s filled with laughter and easy conversation, but Eunbi is yet to be shaken out her trance to realise none of what she fears is reflecting in the reality surrounding her. Only when Dahye finds a spot on the seat next to hers and launches into a breathless retelling of apparently the craziest experience she’s had so far during the trip earlier at the river, Eunbi reconnects with the present, and disconnects from the almost maniac way she’s been analysing her thoughts alone all evening.

As she follows Dahye’s lips moving, acknowledging her with small nods and chuckles that the storytelling gets out of her, she finds she’s been making one huge mistake all this while. She’s always been so wrapped up in her own fears, her need to control the narrative and anticipate the next emotional blow, that she’s missed the simple reality of what’s unfolding around her. The night easily moves forward without the weight of her expectations pressing down on it.

Maybe she doesn’t have to anticipate every move, every subtle shift in the atmosphere. Maybe she doesn’t have to keep trying to predict what Jeongguk might say or how the night might fall apart. For the first time, she lets herself be present— really present. She lets herself feel the warmth of the fire, hear the laughter of her friends without reading too much into it, lets herself stop preparing for a storm that isn’t coming.

There’s a quiet revelation in that. Tonight, she doesn’t want to brace herself for another argument or another disappointment. She can simply allow the peace of the moment to wash over her, instead of waiting for the worse. And by the time the stars are twinkling overhead and her tummy is full, she allows herself to let go of the anger and just be.

It’s when they start another one of their games that she fully lets her guard down and doesn’t focus on anything in particular, just how genuine her laughs resound in her own ears. Once again, it’s Jimin suggesting it, eyes twinkling, “How about a story-telling challenge? We each say one line and keep the story going around the circle.”

Eunbi chuckles and nods, feeling a flicker of excitement at the idea. It’s been a while since she’s done something as silly and spontaneous. They all shuffle closer, forming a tight circle around the fire, the flickering flames dancing in their eyes. Taehyung starts them off, his voice solemn as he leans in, “Once upon a time, in a forest much like this one, there was a squirrel who could sing opera.”

It’s impossible to keep straight faces at first, but they all try. The mock-seriousness in Taehyung’s tone only makes it funnier, and the story takes off from there, spiralling into absurdity. Hoseok follows up, voice filled with faux sorrow, “And this squirrel, right? He had a tragic backstory. He lost his most precious acorn in a dramatic flood.”

The more the tale escalates, the more their giggles can’t be stopped, with the squirrel also being a secret agent for a woodland spy network side by side with his best friend, a tap-dancing raccoon who dreamed of opening a dance studio in the big city. Seokjin adds that the talented animal was also training to perform in a world-renowned animal talent show, but was being sabotaged by a jealous porcupine who could juggle flaming pinecones.

Yoongi, usually the voice of reason, surprisingly leans into the layers of idiocy rather than trying to steer it back to some semblance of order, “The porcupine is actually being helped by an evil ninja rabbit who only speaks in riddles.” His voice carries a playful tone, and Eunbi can’t help but reflect his same look on her own face— unforced, genuine.

The fire crackles louder in response, almost as if laughing along with them and cheering them on. By the time the story comes back around to Jimin, he leans in with a grin caught up in the fun, “And then! The raccoon finally achieves his dream of opening a dance school in the city where all the animals can learn tap-dancing and perform in the biggest talent show ever.”

There’s a beat of silence before they all burst out laughing again, though this time it’s mixed with good-natured teasing. Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head, “Okay, now you’re just projecting.“

Hoseok, grinning from ear to ear, chimes in, “Yeah, come on, you’re turning this into your own personal dream story.”

Taehyung, never missing a beat, adds, “Next thing you know, you’ll have the raccoon choreographing the whole animal kingdom.”

The teasing banter continues, the group’s laughter bouncing off the trees. But Eunbi, still a little out of sync with their inside jokes, blinks in confusion, “Wait, what? What do you mean, reflecting yourself?”

The laughter fades, and Jimin turns to her, a bit of a sheepish grin on his face, “Oh, it’s just… I’ve always loved dancing. It’s been a silly dream of mine to— you know, maybe open a dance studio when I’m older.”

Eunbi’s eyes widen, genuine surprise lighting her features, “Wow, I had no idea. That’s so cool, Jimin! Seriously, I didn’t know that about you.”

There’s a brief, awkward pause, in which Jimin’s smile softens at her reaction, but before he can say anything more, Jeongguk scoffs audibly. The sound cuts through the moment like a sharp blade. He’s leaning back, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowing at Eunbi with something between disdain and frustration but his tone unbothered, “That’s basic Jimin knowledge. Everyone knows that.”

Once again, Eunbi couldn’t have anticipated Jeongguk being on a completely different agenda. She should have known, she’s aware of that. But she hadn’t wanted to. She only wanted to go by the foolish belief that tonight would be different. That just for one evening they could coexist in the same space, be civil, even share a laugh.

It was a naive hope. And now, standing crosshairs of Jeongguk’s fiery glaze, not only with the glow of the flames, she realises just how mistaken she’s been. How stupid it was of her to think Jeongguk wouldn’t jump at the possibility of adding fuel to the fire. Because, right now, she finds herself utterly unprepared to read his clenched jaw, contrasting with the careless, almost indifferent posture he tries to maintain. She struggles to predict how it might develop if she uses a slightly different tone, or takes more time to respond.

She doesn’t remember moving around Jeongguk ever being this difficult. The physical closeness forced upon them by this trip only makes the emotional distance between them more glaring. They might be sitting around the same campfire, but it’s clear from the way he bristles at her every word, every gesture, that in Jeongguk’s mind, she’s universes away. And it’s exactly where he wants her to stay. No spaceship will bring her back. There’s nowhere she can land on his planet.

Eunbi’s exhaustion reaches its breaking point. She’s tired of pretending she’s okay with this. Fed up with letting remorse gnaw at her insides and reduce her to a punching bag for his barely-contained rage. Willing to take every fist thrown her way, rendering her vulnerable to his every attempt at breaking her down. Though what she feels is not resentment. It’s pure, bone-deep weariness. She doesn’t want to take this tug of war any further. If letting go of the idea of fixing things between them is what he wants, she’ll give him that.

With a sigh, she lowers her gaze to her hands for a moment, her fingers twitching unconsciously. Time and time again, she’s the reason why the group can’t go a few hours without being drawn into their venomous war.

Her eyes glisten with shame and helplessness as she looks back up, her voice reflecting anything but that weakness, its sharp and snappy tone overtaking the crackling fire, “What is your problem?”

Differently from the silence that stretched on after the unnecessary jab caught her by surprise, each second going by the ticks of a bomb ready to explode and wipe out the frivolity of the night, Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t even give her the courtesy of pretending to think it over. His response comes swiftly, harshly, as if he’s been waiting for the question all night, “My problem? My problem is that you’re here.”

Eunbi can’t help but scoff. It’s not meant to be arrogant, nor mocking. It’s almost an instinctive reaction, a defence mechanism against the disbelief that rises in her throat. Her words drip with sarcasm, though her voice remains calm, “Oh, I’m sorry I wanted to do something nice for you with the others.”

Jeongguk’s gaze is steady, unwavering, and his next words land like a punch to the gut, “Well, you shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t be here.”

Though she can say she’s gotten better at enduring, it still stings. None of that shows on her face, unflinching, neutral. A biting smile tugs at her lips, though it doesn’t reach her eyes, “Trust me, I know.”

There’s a pause— one brief, agonising moment where she thinks maybe, just maybe, this is still part of their aimless bickering that has been going on the past two days, a spat that will blow over.

But then Jeongguk speaks again, and his voice is so distant it’s even hard to hear him clearly, “I hope you do. You don’t belong here.”

Silence stretches on, the fire crackling softly the only sound between them. She’s sure everyone has stopped breathing, their exhales stuck up in their throat, afraid of releasing them, of stepping foot into something that doesn’t concern them.

Jeongguk’s eyes never leave hers, the coldness in them piercing through the thin veil of pretence they’ve both been clinging to. He doesn’t stop there, his voice deathly quiet, “Not with me. Not with the others. Can’t you see that?”

Eunbi’s heart lurches. She thinks she would prefer being called every name in the book. Have Jeongguk spit at her for all the pain she put him through. Say anything he wants about her being an awful person. But he knows just how to twist the knife. Still knows how to read her every faltering step, the doubts behind her eyes, the insecurities plaguing her mind. Surely, he also still knows how to be the one feeding her the desperate acceptance she needs, the assurance that none of her fears are true. So many times Jeongguk was there to swear she’s loved; that she wouldn’t be left alone ever again.

But now, he decides to use all that knowledge to spin it against her, to push all the right buttons that he knows will hurt her most. She doesn’t belong here. It’s what her mind has whispered to her over and over again since she stepped foot in his sacred circle, an outsider next to Dahye. She has been good at ignoring those hushed tones, to convince herself they’re lies. That these people are her friends, and they all see her as part of the group. That her fears were unfounded.

The proof her haunting thoughts have been right all along is in front of her though, and it presses down on her chest. It’s too much— too raw, too real. She should have seen it coming, but she’s still speechless. Her throat tight, her eyes burning with unshed tears. Though she refuses to let them fall for eleven pairs of eyes to watch. For his eyes to glow with satisfaction.

Eunbi manages to laugh bitterly, though the sound is hollow, “Right. Well, thanks for making it clear.” With her hands trembling slightly, hiding it by clenching them into fists at her sides, she pushes herself to her feet, “I’ll go now. Enjoy your night. Asshole.”

Her voice wavering on the last word, Eunbi turns and walks away from the fire, the warmth of it barely touching her anymore. She doesn’t let herself falter as she heads toward her tent, her footsteps hurried, the chill of the night settling in around her.

And as she shields herself from the outside world, its sounds accompanied by the group’s muttered voices escalating with agitation, words she won’t try to register, she doesn’t bother giving herself a headache trying to hold the tears in. This time, she lets them spill over freely, each one carrying the weight of every single one of her fears. She keeps the sobs in her chest, whimpering with the signals of panic taking over. And now more than ever, she really wishes she just wasn’t here.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When it comes to this time of the year, Jeongguk inevitably becomes the worst version of himself. It’s a cruel irony that it all resurfaces right as his birthday approaches. It’s been that way for years now. In the beginning, when he was still in Busan, he found it hard to blow the candles on his cake without his shoulders feeling heavy, his eyes involuntarily searching for someone that was no longer there; with the unanswered questions dulling the sounds around, leaving him desensitised to the love so blatantly in front of him.

It took him a while to accept it, even with a missing spot unfilled. Jeongguk has never been good with changes. Has always lived by an unwavering, straight path on which he walked confidently, jumping over the cracks on the ground and ignoring any turns. The only deviation he allowed was the one that led him to Seoul. It was a long wait before the stoplight turned green, his own doubts plaguing him even with his parents’ encouragement; and when it did, he crossed the road alone reluctantly, glancing back more than once.

Jeongguk found that this lane was a little less preserved and far less predictable than the one he took his very first steps on. It was full of bumps, a lot of them causing him to trip and fall face first into the concrete. So many dead ends that forced him to make a choice, left or right. But on those same streets, he also recognised elements from the previous block: his love for filmography, the very reason he came to the capital; his mom’s goodnight tune, even over the phone; his thick Busan accent, instantly mirrored into Jimin’s own; the creeping dread as his birthday approached.

There are things he never fully got over, and every year, when August rushes to an end and September looms, he becomes highly aware of it. But over time, he’s learned to live with it. The questions that once consumed him have no answers, and he came to terms with the fact that he couldn’t help what happened. What he’s always had control over, however, was the small key to an even smaller room in his brain, where with great effort he locked Eunbi away once he turned 17.

She tried to break free multiple times, banging on the door and begging to be let out. Jeongguk even had to get maintenance on the lock. Eventually she quieted down, and only ever stirred whenever she knew September was coming from the little calendar she had hung up in the cramped space.

Jeongguk learned to handle it. The memories were still alive, but they didn’t hurt him the way they used to. They felt distant, resurfacing only when he himself noticed the final days of August being crossed on his own calendar. Using a red marker to draw those lines, his fingers still tingled with something close to familiar uneasiness. Sometimes, if it managed to spread to his whole body, it would overtake him, and in the days leading up to his birthday he’d snap more easily, feel more irritated.

But he’d gotten better at controlling it. Last year, his first time turning a year older in a place that wasn’t Busan, he didn’t even feel it. It might have been all the new, shiny people surrounding him in the small flat he was renting with Jimin, the fresh adrenaline from making sure he was feeding his friends with a fun time clouding every other thought. Back in that room, Eunbi peacefully slept through the entirety of it. Even forgot to wish him a happy birthday.

With the real Eunbi physically standing in front of him, all of Jeongguk’s efforts to keep her locked away shattered in one, insignificant instant. It only took a snap of the little-version-of-her in his brain for every wall he’d meticulously built to come crashing down. The door he had so carefully sealed off was now flung open, and little Eunbi burst through, running wild, mingling with thoughts she had no business messing with and wreaking havoc on all those parts of his mind that had been closed off, at least until that moment.

Behind her, an unstoppable flood of emotions he’d long buried surged in, filling his mind until it couldn’t hold any more. It spread to his chest, his heart straining under the weight of everything he didn’t want to feel. Little Eunbi, with her hair still short, worn bermudas, and a t-shirt stained with yellow paint, revelled in the chaos she was causing. She jumped and skipped back and forth between his brain and his heart, completely at ease, her presence so familiar yet entirely out of place. She seemed to enjoy every second of it.

And Jeongguk grew more and more unnerved by that. Little Eunbi was different from the Eunbi that avoided his gaze and awkwardly bowed. The latter had her hair longer, with short bangs softly brushing over her brows, her hands neatly manicured and her clothes spotless. She stood there, straight and put-together, a polished version of the girl who once got dirt all over herself and laughed too loud.

But what probably made him madder was that the more Eunbi started to find her place within the group, the more that seemingly dead part of her began to re-emerge, inching its way back into his life. It was like watching a ghost regain its form, piece by piece. The Eunbi he thought he had locked away was starting to blur with the present Eunbi, and every time she laughed it reminded him of how easy things had once been between them, back when her presence hadn’t been a thorn in his side but a constant comfort. Now, that sound twisted something deep in his chest, something he had long buried under layers of hurt and distance.

What frustrated him even more was that Eunbi seemed completely oblivious to it all. The way she eased into the group, gaining their acceptance, was infuriating. It was as if the distance between them meant nothing to her, as if she could waltz back into his life without consequence. The more they welcomed her, the more that old familiarity surfaced. She was becoming Eunbi again— the Eunbi who had once mattered. And that thought made his stomach churn.

It twisted even further when he found himself unconsciously reading into her every move. His knowledge of her, the way she used to be, crept into his mind without his consent, and he began to analyse her behaviour, picking apart her words and actions. It was almost instinctive, the way he could still understand her, still anticipate her moods. It only ended up poisoning him, because he soon realised those smiles — those little moments of reconnection to the past — were never directed at him. He could recognise her in the eyes of his friends, but never in his own.

Did she even care about what had happened between them? Did she think she could simply move on like none of it had affected him? Did she ever realise how deep those cracks still ran, or was he the only one haunted by the weight of their past?

At first, he forced the frustration to only translate into indifference. Bitter coldness. Not paying her presence too much mind, but still making sure she could feel his resentment dangerously tipping over the edge, and threatening to trip at any minute.

But the combination of his birthday approaching and Eunbi wandering around his space as if nothing ever happened caused the explosion. The rancorous version of himself, the one he thought he managed to successfully bury, now fought its way to the surface and dragged him back to square one: a freshly 16 years old Jeongguk with a freshly broken trust.

The intensity of those emotions hit him like a tidal wave, the kind that leaves you breathless, unable to distinguish between up and down. It wasn’t just anger. It was cold betrayal, and the sight of her, standing there so effortlessly among his friends on his birthday trip, made his skin prickle with irritation. Eunbi had slid into their plans with such ease, as if she belonged, and it was ironic considering she hadn’t even wanted to be in the same car as him.

Jeongguk only needed that last, littlest drop to fall, and with it, every ounce of restraint he had left evaporated. The thin thread of control he’d been clinging to snapped. He had thought he’d moved on, convinced himself that enough time had passed for him to handle her presence with maturity.

But he was wrong. Time hadn’t healed him like he’d hoped. Instead, it had just let the bitterness fester until now. He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t hold himself back. The more he watched her fit in so naturally, laughing at someone’s joke or sharing a quiet moment by the fire, the more the frustration swelled in his chest. It was infuriating that she could act so unfazed, go up to him with a smile he has always recognised too well as if nothing ever was.

He didn’t even realise how tight the grip on his own emotions had been, until they were flooding out of him all at once. Jeongguk felt the words rising in his throat before he could stop them, the resentment spilling over like poison. And now he can feel the control slipping, the pain rushing to the surface like a dam had burst inside him. It’s almost addicting, even when his mind screams at him to stop, to take a breath. But his heart, the part of him still broken from all that time ago, drives him forward.

He needs her to feel it, needs it to be reflected in her eyes. This is what he’d been holding back for so long. This is the pain she’d left him with, and now he’s finally giving it back to her, forcing her to carry some of the weight. He isn’t the only one hurting anymore.

Each word that leaves his mouth is laced with venom, and he watches, wavering between satisfaction and regret, as they hit their target. Her eyes always widen slightly, the smallest flinch in her expression betraying her shock. For a second, he thinks he sees the cracks forming—tiny fissures in that calm, polished exterior she’d put on.

But the more he watches her crumble, the more he feels the bitter taste of victory sour in his mouth. There’s a part of him that hates what he’s doing. Hates that he has become the kind of person who lashes out like this, who takes pleasure in someone else’s pain. Especially hers. It’s like he’s caught in this vicious cycle of wanting to keep his distance but also wanting her attention. And the only way to get that is by hurting her before he himself can process his own hurt through different lenses.

Jeongguk knows he’s being unfair, but something in him can’t let it go. He‘s still simmering with unresolved anger, but there’s also a gnawing guilt, a nagging voice in his head telling him he’s pushing her too far, too hard. Last night, her eyes glossy with tears, he felt the pang that usually followed unleashing his poisonous words hit harder in his chest. He had picked his script with purpose, knowing exactly where to aim, only to shoot hard and leave her lifeless. She fought through the end to get her breaths out, until she couldn’t. Jeongguk waited for the sense of triumph to wash over him, but it never did.

Instead, her fragile figure retreating only after a weak attempt at returning even the smallest amount of the hurt she felt, Jeongguk still felt heavy. Heavy with remorse and guilt. Heavy with the pressure reflected in his friends’ eyes. And he couldn’t handle that. He stood up shortly after Eunbi left, his brain refusing to internalise Dahye’s affront and the group’s deafening silence.

Hours later, Jeongguk lies wide awake, his eyes staring into the void of the tent. He hasn’t been able to keep them shut for more than a minute, his mind a battlefield. He finds it’s impossible to resonate between the insatiable desire for revenge and the exhaustion rendering him numb to any possibility of feeding that need. There’s a part of him that just wants peace.

Glancing to his side, Jimin and Taehyung sleep soundly in the cramped space, blissfully unaware of the storm raging inside him. Neither of them had wanted to dive too deep into what happened, the spat words, the irrational rage constantly taking over their younger friend and keeping him stuck between fight and flight with no escape. Jimin only offered a soft pat on the shoulder and his warmest smile, “It’ll be okay, Jeonggukkie. Let’s just sleep now, hm?”

Jeongguk wishes it could have been as simple as Jimin made it sound. For his friends, it was. They both fell asleep without trouble, and Jeongguk is grateful for that. At least two out of three of them were getting the rest they deserved. Still, he’s careful not to wake them while he quietly slips out of the tent.

The early morning air is crisp, biting at his skin, but the sensation is grounding. Dawn is just beginning to break, soft light spilling over the horizon and casting everything in a faint glow. The quiet sounds of nature surround him, and though they don’t quite ease the weight in his chest, they provide a temporary lull. It’s the cool air caressing his face and threading through his hair that brings some sort of order.

His thoughts start to settle. They don’t feel like a stadium of shouting voices anymore. The yells quiet down and he’s able to sift through them now, picking each one apart, giving himself the space to breathe. It’s not perfect, but it’s better. He feels like he can move past this— if not for his own sake, then for the sake of the others.

Still, there’s one thought that refuses to be silenced. One question that lingers just beneath the surface, gnawing at the edges of his justified anger. It’s persistent, creeping into his mind with every inhale. Why does hurting her hurt him too?

It seems like the simplest of questions, but Jeongguk refuses to accept what appears to be the answer. It sits there, plain as day, yet he pushes it away. He doesn’t want to keep dissecting it, turning it over and over in his mind, trying to find any other plausible way out, but he can’t help himself. His thoughts spiral, stretching the minutes into what feels like eternity, until he loses track of time altogether. He zones out so deeply that when he finally snaps back, it’s only because the quiet sound of a tent zipper reaches his ears, followed by Hoseok’s hesitant head poking out.

Jeongguk blinks, suddenly aware that he’s been sitting in the same spot, on the same chair, staring at the same patch of dirt for who knows how long. Hours, at least. His body feels stiff, his mind trapped in an endless loop. He wonders if he’s lost his ability to pull himself out of this mental prison, if this is it. He’s stuck. His birthday is less than 24 hours away, and he’s more miserable than he’s been in months.

His chest tightens when he sees Hoseok walking toward him. Panic rises swiftly, because Hoseok had witnessed last night’s disaster. They all had. His hands clench into fists, his orbs trembling as doubt swarms his mind. Did he ruin the entire trip for everyone? Is the tension in the air his fault? Is he the cause of the awkward silence that lingered after he tore Eunbi apart with his words? Do they hate—

“Jeonggukkie? You okay?”

The softness in Hoseok’s tone almost makes Jeongguk flinch. It’s so gentle, filled with concern, and for a moment he questions everything he’s been telling himself. If Hoseok hated him, if any of them did, he wouldn’t be standing here now, looking at him with such care in his eyes.

Jeongguk only nods in response, the tension in his shoulders unwinding just a little as his older friend’s face softens into a sweet smile. There’s no judgement, no condemnation. Just quiet understanding. He waits in the lingering silence as Hoseok moves to freshen up. The moment he returns, settling into one of the chairs nearby, Jeongguk feels a sudden urge to speak clawing at his throat. He knows if he doesn’t start talking, the weight of the trap of his own mind will tighten around him again. So he talks, talks and talks about anything that doesn’t resemble the doom he was slipping into.

He’s a fugitive from his thoughts, and he keeps running even when more of the others join the small circle in the middle of the campsite. None of them seem to look at Jeongguk differently, the jokes flowing naturally as small laughs fill the quiet morning. It’s as if everything is as it should be, and he feels himself ease back into composure. Though, the guilt still lingers, heavy and unshakable. He ignores it.

The sun climbs higher in the sky, casting light above them and providing Jeongguk with warmth that he stores in his chest. He gets more of that from his friends’ smiles and the excitement flowing energetically out of them as Hoseok explains they’ll be cycling today, crossing scenic paths that round the campsite.

He watches as they all gather, geeking about today’s activity and stuffing their faces with as much food as they can get their hands on. The topic soon shifts to his birthday, which Jeongguk is particularly dreading. They’re already planning to get him wasted tonight, and the boy chuckles softly, though his laughter is hesitant, distracted.

His gaze keeps drifting to the one tent that hasn’t opened yet, the only place that remains closed off to the rest of the group. The only two people missing from their little circle haven’t joined yet, and it’s hard for Jeongguk to ignore that. To ignore her.

With more minutes going by and the tent unmoving, remaining still and almost mocking in its silence, he finds it even harder to focus on the laughter and the lightness of the morning. The world outside his head seems to move on without him, blissfully unaware of the turmoil inside him. On one side, he’s relieved that the attention has shifted away from him, that the day can unfold even without him being fully present. But that same realisation makes him feel like he’s teetering on the edge, dangerously close to falling back into the prison of his own thoughts.

Oblivious to it, his inner struggle is written all over his face, clear as day to anyone who cares enough to look. And Jimin notices right away. He doesn’t say anything at first, just reaches out to gently caress Jeongguk’s shoulder, the touch so light that the brown haired boy startles slightly before meeting his friend’s gaze. Jimin’s face is soft, a sweet smile tugging at his lips as he tilts his head, “Something on your mind?”

His tone is gentle, almost knowing. Jeongguk shakes his head, brushing off the concern, but his eyes flicker, and his own body betrays him when he instinctively turns once again to check for any movement from the tent. The subtle action doesn’t go unnoticed by the blonde, who hums and makes the other boy sigh wearily, an excuse ready on his lips, “I just haven’t had much sleep.”

“Why don’t you go call Eunbi and Dahye? They probably won’t get to have breakfast if we’re leaving soon.” Jimin’s suggestion comes with caution but it strikes a chord.

Jeongguk stares at his friend, though it feels more like he’s staring through him. The words hang in the air as he zones out, weighing his options. He doesn’t want them to miss breakfast, sure. And part of him just wants to check on them, to make sure they’re okay. Breathing, alive. Yeah, that’s it.

But a question lingers: is he ready to face Eunbi so directly? The task sounds simple enough—just call them over, remind them they’ll have to leave soon for the day’s plans. But the weight of last night still clings to him. What if he hasn’t recovered from the poison he spat? What if that anger rises up, unprovoked, and spills out again? Worse, what if he can’t say anything at all? Or what if Eunbi sees him and returns all the evil, even stronger and sharper? What if she hits back harder and he’s left bleeding on the ground?

The furious speed at which his thoughts churn makes Jeongguk’s head spin, a relentless loop that threatens to overtake him, before the weight on his lap pulls him back. He glances down to see a plate of food resting there—some leftovers from breakfast. When he looks back at his friend, Jimin’s gaze is comforting, “You could bring them this and check if they’re okay with leaving in 30 minutes, hm?”

Jimin is crouching beside him, eyes soft but knowing, not pushing or pressing for anything, but somehow encouraging him all the same. The reassurance he finds in his gaze is enough for Jeongguk. His rushed thought process slows down, and he has room to realise he was only letting irrational panic speak. There’s no reason why any of those scenarios and possible outcomes could roll out only from calling his friends (well, his friend and… Eunbi) over for breakfast.

Jeongguk nods as he stands, his movements stiff at first, his hands clutching the plate tightly. Even with the knowledge he doesn’t have to necessarily address Eunbi, each step toward the tent feels like he’s carrying the weight of the world. The ground beneath him crunches softly, and his heart unreasonably picks up. The idea of simply facing her makes him sick to his stomach. He doesn’t want to accept it, but it’s guilt that’s causing that.

He’s so consumed by trying to chase away his own thoughts he doesn’t immediately register he’s close enough now that he can see the outline of the closed tent flap. It takes him even more to discern the sounds coming from inside. At first, it’s just a faint noise—muffled, almost unintelligible.

But as he draws closer, it becomes clearer. His steps falter. Another second goes by before he places it, and then it hits him like a punch to the gut. Eunbi is crying.

Jeongguk’s body tenses. No, she’s sobbing. It feels like someone’s wrapped a hand around his heart and squeezed. Her words are barely comprehensible, choked-out syllables and pleading whispers. He can make out enough to know that she’s begging, almost desperately, for Dahye to take her away from here.

Jeongguk freezes, paralyzed by the intensity of each of her desperate gasps. The world around him fades. The raw sound of her pain consumes him, and it cuts through him in ways he didn’t anticipate. He had wanted this, hadn’t he? He had wanted to hurt her, to see her broken, see her exactly like this. He had succeeded. He thought it would somehow bring him peace, make things right. Then why does each sob that escapes her build a shattering pressure in his chest?

It all ended up feeling wrong. As if he’s the one falling apart, the one who can’t catch his breath. Her grief echoes in him, breaking pieces inside he thought were long buried. There’s that gnawing guilt, eating away at the anger he had used to justify everything.

With the cries growing louder in his ears, he finds an answer as to why it hurts to hurt her. And it’s a persistent whisper he can no longer ignore.

Jeongguk struggles. He struggles to process it all, his senses slow. He doesn’t know whether to walk away or step closer. His head is screaming at him to move, to do something, but his body won’t listen.

It takes him another moment to realise that Dahye is moving inside the tent, her voice low and soothing as she tries to comfort Eunbi. Then, the tent flap rustles, and Dahye steps out. The moment her eyes land on him, her expression shifts, hardening with disappointment that sends a new wave of guilt crashing into him.

“You really fucked up this time.” She doesn’t bother to hide what seemed to only paint her features seconds ago. Jeongguk is left momentarily stunned, even more with her shoulder brushing against his as she walks past him. It’s suddenly too fast, and he can’t bring himself to respond, can’t find the words to defend himself or apologise.

His gaze falls down in an attempt to regain control over his actions, but as he searches for something, anything, to ground him he notices that the tent is left slightly open. Through the small gap, he can only see darkness and make out the quiet sniffles coming from Eunbi. His body stills, the sound only worsening the mess of thoughts crashing into each other.

One realisation sends a fresh wave of panic through him. Eunbi can see him. She knows he’s there, standing. Doing nothing, even while she cries. The jolt rushes all through his muscles this time, travelling from his brain, and it’s enough to finally get him to move.

Jeongguk takes a shaky step back, only to turn around fast when he’s met with a possibility he doesn’t want to confront. If he sees her face — red, tear-streaked, her eyes swollen from crying — he doubts he’d be able to handle it. Handle the sight of the pain that he caused. He’s sure he’d lose whatever fragile control he has left. He’s already on the brink of breaking just from hearing her. Seeing her like that would undo him completely.

As he retreats, the weight of everything he’s done settles in. He wonders if they’ve reached a point of no coming back. The hurt is too deep, the damage too irreversible. And for the first time, even the foolish kid inside him, the one that still craves for his Dal, wonders if they’ll ever be able to find their way back to each other. The bridge between them feels burned, reduced to ashes, and he’s terrified that there’s no rebuilding it. It’s falling apart for good.

It’s impossible for Jeongguk to keep the dread eating at his insides from showing on his face. It betrays him, every ounce of regret etched plainly across his features. He reluctantly lifts up his gaze. Especially when he’s met with Jimin’s concerned one, the pity there making his stomach twist even tighter, and Dahye’s flaring eyes cutting through him like daggers.

Eunbi steps out shortly after. She moves quietly, almost too quietly, as if she’s trying to blend and disappear into the air. He can immediately tell that she’s made an effort to mask the misery, the makeup she’s wearing is heavier than usual. Too much in places that don’t need it. A shield against him.

But he refuses to let himself look at her for too long. His eyes flit away before he’s forced to see too much. Before the truths he runs from hit him square in the face, before he’s able to discern the words that should be spoken but remain unsaid.

Once again, he lets his doubts speak louder than reason. He convinces himself that all of his friends are against him, that they’re watching him with eyes full of judgement. They’re at his throat, ready to pounce, ready to pin all the blame on him. He can almost feel their fingers pointing in his direction, like they’ve already made up their minds. He’s the guilty one. He’s the tainted, selfish asshole who ruins everything.

That’s why Jeongguk cycles slowly, deliberately hanging back, lagging behind the rest of the group. He can’t bear to meet their eyes, to force himself into their light-hearted mood. He doesn’t feel like belonging there, right now. It feels like he’s on the outside looking in, like he’s forgotten what it means to just feel at peace.

So, he keeps his distance. It’s easier to stay where it’s quiet. Where he doesn’t have to put up an act or force himself to be present. The silence feels more like a refuge than loneliness, a momentary escape from the relentless noise in his mind.

In front of him, Eunbi cycles just as slowly. They’re both drifting behind the group, caught in their own separate orbits, not really blending with the others. Jeongguk unconsciously fixates on the steady rhythm of her bike wheels, the way they spin effortlessly, guiding her along the path. It’s a repeated, ceaseless action that serves as a temporary anchor to avoid sinking under.

Without meaning to, he finds himself mimicking their speed, gradually inching closer to her, his bike mirroring the pace of her wheels. The space between them narrows, and when he notices it, he pulls back slightly. Only to repeat the same motion moments later, closing the gap again. And again. It’s like he’s automatically attracted to the movement, which unintentionally draws him to her.

It’s Eunbi’s weary sigh cutting through the soft hum of the tires against the ground that snaps him out of that mindless trance, the one that had briefly distracted him from the darker thoughts creeping at the edges of his brain, “Can you stop doing that?”

Her voice, edged with irritation, breaks through the fog in his head. Jeongguk stills, confused, not even realising what she meant. He hums questioningly, his brows furrowing.

“I’m not in the mood for a race,” she mutters, not even looking back at him, her tone flat but tinged with weariness.

Jeongguk blinks, caught off guard, and he feels a flash of defensiveness rise up before he can stop it, “I— I wasn’t—”

“Whatever.” She cuts him off, sounding more tired than angry, “I just feel... anxious knowing you’re— there. Behind me. Please, just go ahead.”

The words strike him harder than they should, hitting him in a place he doesn’t want to acknowledge. They settle deep, mingling with guilt and frustration. Her voice, so casual yet heavy with discomfort, only stirs up the irrational anger that always seems to bubble up whenever they interact, the same one that brought them to this breaking point.

Before he can stop himself, he bites back, “Oh, now you’re the one feeling anxious.”

Eunbi’s shoulders stiffen, and her words shake with fatigue, begging once again, “Please, I don’t wanna start this again.”

“We’re not starting anything,” Jeongguk snaps back, his tone biting despite himself. Even he doesn’t believe it. It always feels like they’re on the verge of starting something, like every word is a match waiting to spark.

This time, she whips her head to look at him over her shoulder, her voice rising as her patience thins, “Oh, really? Then what is th—”

The words die in her throat as her bike catches on something, and in an instant, she’s thrown forward. She’s sent tumbling on the ground, her body skidding against the rocky surface, the harsh sound of scraping skin filling the air as her hands and knees are victim to the fall.

Jeongguk’s heart drops. The fragile tension between them shatters, and his breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t think—he just reacts. “Dal!”

Before he knows it, panic overtakes him and he’s off his bike in a flash, letting it crash behind him as he rushes to her side. His voice shakes when he kneels beside her, the name escaping him again, raw and urgent.

Eunbi is sprawled on the ground, dirt smudged across her skin, her hands trembling as they try to push her own body up. Jeongguk immediately detects the blood seeping from the cuts on her knees, then scans through her face contorted in pain. He searches her whole body for more wounds with wide, desperate eyes and he notices her palms are also bleeding.

His hands hover uselessly, unsure where to touch or how to help without hurting her more. His heart is racing, pounding in his chest as the sight of her like this rips through him. It feels like the ground has been yanked out from beneath his feet.

When he speaks again, his voice is rough with fright, “Are you okay?” It’s the first thing he manages to blurt out, while helping her turn on her back. But it’s a stupid question—he can see she’s not okay. He can see the ache written all over her features, more blood dripping from her cuts.

Eunbi doesn’t respond immediately. Her breath comes out in sharp, shaky gasps. Jeongguk can see the shock of it all settling into her body and he watches as she tries to pull herself together, her face pale. Eunbi mutters, her voice small but strained, attempting to sit up in slow movements, “I’m fine.”

Jeongguk feels himself spiralling. The terror in her eyes is reflected in his, but it seems to hit him ten times stronger than what the bruised girl has to deal with right now. His orbs widen impossibly more as the seconds go by, and when her eyes seem to mist over with tears he can’t help his own palms from framing her face and searching for possible scratches he couldn’t spot with his attentive gaze, then grasps her arms.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to make her feel the hurt he carried, make her understand how deep his pain went. But now, as he looks at her, all he can think is how wrong that is. The sight of her suffering doesn’t give him any satisfaction. Only a pang deep in his chest, something ugly that he doesn’t know how to deal with.

“I’m fine,” Eunbi repeats again, this time with a little more conviction, a small, forced smile barely reaching her lips. But Jeongguk can see right through it. He hopes she can feel the intention seeping from his contact, his hold rough but warm over her goosebumps-covered skin.

The rushed moment gives no space for the resentment they had grown accustomed to these past days, and it wraps them up in a bubble from which the present is locked out. They’re outside Jeongguk’s porch, and Eunbi just fell on her hands and knees trying to learn how to roller skate. Her best friend sits beside her, taking care of her pain.

Even with their friends now hovering above them, throwing concerned questions at her, Jeongguk’s entire focus is on Eunbi. He follows her every slight movement, every shift of her body as she tries to mask the discomfort. His eyes study the way her face scrunches in pain, his heart aching in time with her every wince. And every time she looks at him, silently seeking reassurance, he’s right there, offering it in the softening of his gaze.

As the group’s voices become a chaotic hum around them, Eunbi’s low murmur slips past the noise, meant only for him, “Gguk. Maybe I don’t feel so fine.”

Her sheepish smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and the worry in her eyebrows betrays her light-hearted attempt. Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. He immediately reacts, delicately leading her upper body down again. Seated on his heels, he lays her head on his lap and keeps her eyes on his face, his voice soothing, “It’s okay, Bee. Look at me. You’re going to be fine.”

Eunbi nods, trying to will herself into trusting him, but Jeongguk sees the uncertainty etched into every line of her face. Her eyes, wide with panic, keep darting down to her legs, where Namjoon holds them up steady, and Dahye works carefully to clean her wounds. There’s terror in her eyes every time she follows the blood trickling down her skin and notices how it keeps flowing out furiously. Jeongguk knows that look all too well. He’s seen it before, is aware of how blood unsettles her, how easily fear grips her in moments like these.

He acts instinctively, gently covering her eyes with one of his hands, the thumb subtly caressing her forehead, “Don’t look, Dal. Close your eyes, hm?”

Jeongguk can feel the hesitancy radiating from the group, their confusion practically tangible as they watch the scene unfold. They’ve seen him and Eunbi at each other’s throats, and now this tenderness feels foreign. But to him, it’s more familiar than any of the anger he’s harboured towards her. It’s like something pulling at the edges of his consciousness, reminding him of how it always has been, and should have been.

He refuses to linger on that thought now. Rational explanations and consequences can wait for later. Right now, all he cares about is making sure Eunbi is okay.

Her fall wasn’t severe, not by any medical standard, but the sight of her pale face and the cold sweat clinging to her skin keeps his nerves taut. He can't relax, not when he can still feel the tremble in her body and see the fright in her eyes. The panic washing over her features only makes him grip her a little tighter.

Namjoon breaks through the haze of Jeongguk’s focus, his voice concerned as he lowers Eunbi’s legs gently to the ground. “I need a shirt or something. Tissues won’t be enough here.”

It seems more as if he’s muttering to himself than anyone else, because he instantly moves to search in his backpack. Jeongguk is quicker, reacting without hesitation, still making sure Eunbi is shielded from the view of her knee scratched and raw with blood, “There’s one in my backpack. You can rip it if you need to.”

Namjoon pauses for a moment, looking at Jeongguk with doubt and something else he can’t quite place. But after a beat, he nods, unzipping the bag and pulling out the t-shirt.

The older boy calls Eunbi’s attention on him, and Jeongguk’s hand reluctantly slips away from her face, settling in her hair instead. Namjoon’s tone is gentle, keeping the girl grounded, “Okay Bi. I’m going to press very hard now. It’ll hurt a bit, but I need to stop the bleeding. You okay?”

Eunbi nods, her expression tight with fear but determined to stay calm. She focuses solely on Namjoon’s face, deliberately avoiding the sight of her knee, where blood continues to drip down, relentless and vivid against her skin. The second Namjoon applies pressure, she lets out a sharp squeal, her brows knitting together as soft whimpers follow, each sound striking Jeongguk with a deep sense of helplessness.

And it’s more than he can bear. Without thinking, he reaches for Namjoon’s wrist, halting his movement, his voice tight and edged with a protectiveness he can’t suppress, “Yo, you’re hurting her. Don’t press so hard.”

The other boy meets his eyes, a small scoff escaping his lips without going unnoticed, his expression steady, “I’m studying to be a doctor. I think I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re studying to be a vet, that’s not a fucking doctor.” The comment slips past him before he can do anything about it, sharper than intended, fueled by frustration and anxiety. The unnecessary weight of his words reflect in the surprised reactions from his friends and the slight arch of Namjoon’s brow.

“Bibi kinda looks like a deer. I’d say it’s quite appropriate,” Dahye’s voice slices through the small, sudden moment of tension, and it’s sweet but tinged with humour, her light-hearted tone meant to ease some of her friend’s nerves. Eunbi chuckles, light and genuine, for the first time that morning. She searches for the taller girl’s gaze and finds her crouching next to Jeongguk, close to her.

Jeongguk notices the shift in her immediately, the way her features relax, the calm that briefly washes over her. He scrutinises every subtle change, searching for the girl he’d spent years knowing. But as he looks down at her, still resting in his lap, her gaze lingering on Dahye before quickly finding his and then returning to Namjoon, he spots something that twists in his gut.

There’s a shift in her eyes. Uncertainty. It all comes rushing back. It’s not just the physical pain that’s pulling her away. The brief connection they had shared slips through his fingers. It’s like a switch has been flipped, and they’re back where they always end up, strangers that know everything about the other, even when they’re this close. The softness in her eyes is not directed at him, and it’s then replaced by doubt. The image causes an obnoxious alarm to go off in his head. He doesn’t know how to restore the moment. Doesn’t want it to end.

Frantic, he keeps combing his fingers through her hair, desperate to hold onto any remains. His movements are absentminded, mechanical almost, as if he’s afraid to let go completely. Then, the need to hear her voice becomes almost overwhelming, and his words come out soft, tentative, “You okay?”

When she only nods, he frowns. It does little to ease his mounting anxiety.

Namjoon resumes his work diligently, and Eunbi eventually sits up, the warmth of her body now gone from Jeongguk’s lap. It only leads him to further seek for a way to bridge the gap, forcing a gentle smile, “Dal, it’s not even bleeding anymore. See?”

“Oh god, is she dying? She’s gonna bleed out.” It’s Hoseok’s dramatic outburst shattering the moment and Jeongguk’s every possible attempt at mending it, as the boy crouches down to inspect the stained shirt wrapped around Eunbi’s leg with a grimace.

Eunbi, who had just started to calm down, now feels her breath quicken. She instinctively looks at Jeongguk, her eyes pleading for reassurance, but before he can offer his comfort, Hoseok’s over-the-top concern strikes again, “Bi, what’s your blood type? Just in case we might need to give you a blood transfusion.”

“What? Is he serious?” Her eyes widen in disbelief as she searches for the bloodstain but finds Jeongguk quickly pulling her shoulder to keep her still, “He’s just—”

"Actually, I once watched a tutorial on YouTube on how to do that. It’s not that hard. We just need to find someone with your same blood type and you’re set." Jimin’s sudden comment adds to the absurdity, and Jeongguk groans, his frustration mingling with the ridiculousness of the situation.

”You two, shut up and help me clean these,” rolling her eyes, Dahye puts an end to the foolish interaction and urges them to take care of the cuts on Eunbi’s palms, still unattended. Hoseok tries, he does, but he feels like facing blood this close will probably result in him fainting. He doesn’t think having another person on the verge of passing out would help. So, he calls for Taehyung to take over while he just resolves by trying to distract Eunbi, “I was just kidding, doesn’t look so bad. Where did you get this top, by the way?”

Jeongguk hesitates. He can’t focus on the banter. His anxiety is slowly eating at his insides, and he knows he should let go of whatever bubble he found himself trapped into. Should burst it with the slightest nudge of his finger, the mocking plop! sound eventually bringing him back to the present and making the sounds clearer, closer. But he can’t. He’s feverish as Eunbi seems to avoid his gaze further, only offering small smiles when he attempts to comfort her like he did while she was laying on his legs, her eyes trained on his and seemingly the only thing able to keep her stable. The chaos makes his head spin, but what’s worse is the feeling that she’s slipping away, again. Even if it was just an illusion to begin with.

Deep in the spiral of his thoughts, it takes him a moment to notice that Eunbi is being helped up by Namjoon, and that she’s holding onto his forearms while taking small, hesitant steps without applying too much pressure on the bruised knee. Namjoon hums in concern, then looks behind his shoulders, “Hey, my bike has a seat behind. I’m taking Eunbi back to the campsite.”

The words snap Jeongguk out of his daze, making him stand up and instantly pulling him back from whatever other mental trap he had fallen right into. Even if it seems to be too late now, Eunbi restoring the wall between them brick by brick, his heart kicks into overdrive, and before he even knows what he’s doing, he blurts out with more urgency than necessary, “I’ll come with you!”

The response is immediate, and not in the way he expects. All eyes land on him, doubtful, surprised. He can feel the shift in the air, a tension settling around him as his friends exchange glances, unsure of where this sudden burst of energy came from. The awkwardness of the moment seeps into his skin, and Jeongguk clears his throat, feeling the heat rise to his face, “I’ll— I’ll help take Eunbi’s bike back.”

Dahye pats him on the shoulder reassuringly, and Jeongguk is momentarily taken aback considering their earlier interaction and how she had looked at him with murderous intents. This time, she sports a soft smile, “Don’t worry, Gguk. I’ll do it.”

Jeongguk opens his mouth to argue, but Namjoon cuts in, his expression equally puzzled by the younger’s outburst, “Yeah, man. You should stay here and enjoy the day. It’s your birthday, after all.”

“But—“

”You did enough already, Gguk. Stay with the others, we’ll take care of her.” After throwing him a convincing nod, Dahye is already pulling Eunbi’s bike up and steadying it, quickly collecting her own that had stopped not too far away.

Jeongguk frantically searches for Eunbi’s gaze, for any sign that he should push further, that she needs him with her. But as they lock eyes, the weight of his earlier actions come crashing down on him, like a bucket of cold water. He let himself get carried away in a distant fantasy that doesn’t belong in his reality, that shouldn’t have unfolded in their present. It only led him to try and force his way into a situation where he wasn’t needed. No, where he wasn’t wanted. The thought stings more than he cares to admit.

He seeks for confirmation either way, hanging on the last remaining thin thread, the name slipping from his tongue again, tentative, “Are you sure, Bee?”

Eunbi hesitates, her arms wrapping around her figure, shielding herself from him. She also seems to be realising the unfamiliarity of the moment, of his sweet tone, his eyes never once hardening when they land on her. And it’s weird, because she should be accepting this version of him with much more ease. But instead, she finds support in their distance right now, and she lowers her gaze, “Yes, Jeongguk. I don’t want to bother you further.”

A small gasp fights its way up his throat, but he stops it. He tries to argue, stuttering, “You— You’re not— Whatever. Huh, call if anything happens?”

His eyes are still trained on Eunbi, but she doesn’t react. Dahye chuckles softly to try and soothe the air, “Hey, she’s okay. It’s just a few scratches. Right, Bibi?”

The oddly silent girl nods, her head up again and now meeting Jeongguk with confidence, firmly holding his gaze, the smallest remains of whatever they got caught into scattered to the ground. He mirrors her nodding, attempting to smooth some of her certainty in himself, failing, “Huh— okay. I’m just— okay. I’ll see you later, then.”

Later comes, and Jeongguk barely sees Eunbi. The night grows louder, he’s surrounded by friends, their energy infectious as they prepare for his birthday, now just a few hours away. They’re bubbling with excitement, eyes bright with anticipation, instilling that nervous buzz that always hits him just before midnight. Jeongguk smiles along with them, but his heart isn’t quite in it.

Despite the laughter and the way the campfire crackles as they pass around bottles of alcohol, Jeongguk feels distant, like he's watching it all through a fog. His friends are trying, he can tell. They’re making every effort to keep him distracted, to drown out the noise in his head with their joy. Jokes fly around the fire, and every few minutes someone checks the time, gasping excitedly as midnight draws nearer. It’s sweet, thoughtful, and he genuinely appreciates it. But no matter how much he tries to focus on them, on the present moment, his mind keeps drifting. His eyes wander, searching for Eunbi.

She’s always just out of sight. There, but not fully. Lingering at the edges, sticking close to Dahye. Laughing quietly, but never wholly engaging with the group like she usually would, despite everything. It’s just enough to not raise suspicion, but it’s clear she’s retreating. Closing herself off from the rest of them, from him.

Jeongguk tells himself he’s reading too much into it. That she’s probably still finding it hard to recover from the earlier incident, her bruises still visible. But he also knows this feeling too well. He felt it after that ride on his motorcycle, Eunbi seeking for something in his eyes, the moment so tender but broken in an instant. He’s acquainted with the slow drift, the wall quietly being rebuilt between them. Taller, sturdier.

The campfire crackles, and his friends’ voices rise around him, but he’s only half there. Jeongguk wishes he could stop his mind from racing, wishes he could just fall into the rhythm of the celebration like everyone else.

And then midnight comes. With it, a burst of chaos. His friends spring to life, hoisting him up into the air, passing him between them like a beloved trophy. Their spark is contagious, and for a moment, Jeongguk lets himself be burnt by it. The joy, the love surrounding him. They sing him happy birthday, off-key and loud, pouring drinks and making ridiculous toasts. He allows himself to be showered by that affection. It’s not perfect, but it’s enough.

As the hours drag on, the celebration settles into a steady hum. They stay by the fire, some leaning into one another, others still joking around, the alcohol loosening their tongues. The earlier buzz mellows into something softer, more intimate, and Jeongguk feels himself unwind, even a little. He laughs more freely now, the weight of the night starting to lift as he becomes wrapped up in their warmth.

Eventually, exhaustion begins to creep in. One by one, his friends start to peel away, calling it a night and retreating to their tents with promises to continue the celebration tomorrow. They ruffle Jeongguk’s hair, poking at him one last time before bidding him goodnight, the warmth of their presence lingering even as they disappear. Jimin and Taehyung make sure he’s okay before heading to their tent, only after throwing final teases laced with affection at him. Jeongguk sports a boyish grin as he watches them go.

Then it’s just him, the fire crackling softly and the bright stars above him. They whisper something to him, but he can’t decipher it. It makes his skin prickle with the chill and his eyelids shut heavier, slower with every flutter. He doesn’t hear his thoughts so strongly, now. Maybe he chooses not to. He’s been dealing with them all day long, seeking for even one of the millions to lighten him with something he actually needs. Does he even know what he needs? The ache in his heart that refuses to settle hints at a negative answer.

Jeongguk knows there’s something he wants, though. He badly wants these first hours of his birthday to be blessed by a certain someone’s wishes. He completely lost sight of her in the earlier chaos. Didn’t get to check if a smile, even a forced one, was painting her lips when midnight struck.

Perhaps it’s the universe pitying him, reserving him with a gift that could or could not change his misery. But he soon realises he’s not alone when a soft clearing of a throat breaks the silence.

He turns and finds Eunbi standing there, hesitant. She visibly struggles with what to do, her legs refusing to bring her closer to him but her brain willing to, sheepishly taking the seat next to him, “Um. Happy birthday, I guess.”

Jeongguk recognises it instantly, the way she says it, her subtle, small, playful smile not lost on him. It mirrors the same tone he’d used when he had blurted it out awkwardly at her own birthday not too long ago, the first time they’d really spoken one-on-one. A small chuckle escapes him, unsure but undeniably warm, “Huh. Thanks.”

And then there’s silence. It stretches between them, heavy but not uncomfortable, like there’s something waiting beneath it, something unspoken. The two are deep in their thoughts, words they want to say hovering on the tip of their tongues, but neither quite ready to let them loose. The crackling of the fire fills the space, the occasional pop of embers the only sound as they sit side by side, both not used to the feeling.

Jeongguk hesitates, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “Do you… feel better?”

Eunbi hums.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

It goes quiet again, air thick and pregnant with everything left unsaid. Jeongguk hesitates, his mind swirling with the urge to say something, anything, but the fear of breaking whatever fragile truce they have keeps him quiet. He wants to ask her if she’s okay — really okay — but the words feel inadequate.

Eventually, it’s Eunbi who takes a deep breath, as if drawing in strength from the fire, from the quiet of the night around them, “I— I feel like… we should talk. Do— do you want to?”

Jeongguk’s chest tightens, his heart pounding, but then he nods.

“Yeah.”

[polyestercleaner]

COME CLOSER. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

|Summary:Your first time having sex with joost, little does he know you've been hiding something from him.

|Content Warning⚠️:Angst turns to smut, SH scars, p in v, creampie, fingering if you squint

You're pushed against the door of your bedroom, his tounge was deep inside of your mouth, his hands roaming your waist, the ushanka on his head falling to the floor, a gentle thump. You whimper into his mouth as he moves from making out with you to sucking on the flesh on your neck, "joost.." you throw your head back, whimpering and moaning softly, "come here" joost pushes you towards the bed, your in a daze before realizing that what joost was trying to do is pull your pants down, you quickly shuffle, pulling your body away from the bed as you hold onto your pants, your breath hitching as you take sharp breaths, "W-what?" Joost sits up, his expression is confused, he's not mad, or upset, simply confused. "Whats wrong liefde?" You brush the hair that slightly covered your face away, breath still unsteady. "I can't. I don't think I'm ready, if you know.." he nods slowly, "listen I get that but it's been almost 9 months, and I wont pressure you, but you have to tell me if there's a reason you don't want this, I mean. Each time this happens you're always so nervous." A moment of silence fills the room, he pats the side of the bed, gesturing for you to sit. "Come sit schat" you sigh. You know you can't hide what's underneath what you wore everyday. "Whats wrong? Hm?" He pulls your hands into his, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your palm. You felt your eyes begin to burn, your breath hitching, your lips part, your thoughts completely stop.

" I'm struggling with something." He nods, he's silent. He's waiting for what you're going to say, and that's that. The silence was enough for everything to seep out of you, everything you've been trying to hold together into both of your palms, seeped through and past your fingers. And you can't do anything but watch. You let your head fall forward, your eyes flying to your face, your tears are all out. And he's there watching it unfold. God he must think your pathetic.

Your quickly pulled into a hug, "now now. It's okay." You stiffened and shook in his embrace. What else could you do?

"I'm sorry. I'm..so sorry this isn't what you signed up for is it.?" Your voice breaks between words. You meant it. How could you let him love you knowing your body was too broken to ever be loved. That's what you thought. But that's not what he thought was it.? "This is what I signed up for okay? Just tell me what happened,I'll love you no matter what alright?" You nodded, you nodded harshly and you looked up at him, you've always wondered how he'd keep up a smile no matter what.

"I wanna show you something, promise you won't be upset?-promise you won't leave!"

You pulled away from him and you waited for an answer. You weren't gonna show him unless you knew he wasn't gonna run away or something. He nodded once again. And gently stroked your waist. "Go on pretty." You get up. Joost looks up at you, sat on the bed. His smile is soft, his facial expression is gentle. Like he's confident whatever your gonna show him wont make him think any less of you. You place a hand on your sweatpants, slipping them down slowly. His eyes go wide. You squint your eyes shut and stiffle in the cries you wanna let out. "Oh no,pretty come here" your quick to sit back down, his eyes are on your thighs. fingers stroking over your scars. You look at him. Your eyes are red. And the tears don't stop. They feel like they'll never stop. His face is calm. You can't read through him. "It's okay, it's okay." He pulls you into a hug, you don't cry. You don't do anything. You just sit there in eachothers arms. "Am I ugl-"

"Absolutely not." You nod, "it's fine if you think it's bad okay it's fi-"

"Your gorgeous okay? You want me to prove that to you?" You pull away slightly, you look up at him, your eyes are glossy, your tears are still there and he chooses to brush a thumb over them and wipe them away. "Your pretty, you'll always be pretty and just because you have scars dosent make you any less pretty. Okay liefde?" You nod. "Let me prove that to you, okay? You okay with that?" You let him push you down, he pulls off the last bit of your sweatpants off and rubs your thigh slowly. "So gorgeous." You let him place kisses on your thighs. Rather to be specific. On your scars. You groan. In that moment you realize that, your body is capable of being loved. No matter what. No matter what you had going on with it. There was always someone there to let you know that it's alright. Your breath hitched when you felt joosts warm breath on your pussy. His fingers playing with the fabric of your panties. But he dosent do anything, he pulls away and places a kiss on your stomach and up. And up. You whimper at the feeling of him fondling your breast. Holding your wrist with one arm before placing it next to your head. He gently let's go. You feel your cunt get wetter by the minute. Clenching around nothing. He takes one final look at your body in admiration before dropping his pants, his cock was hard. And the size never fails to impress you. You instinctively spread your legs for him. He slips the fabric of your panties to the side before rubbing your clit with his thumb. The most gentle circles you could ever experience. You throw your head back and whimper out his name. Your tears have dried off by now. And even if they were still there. It's probably tears of pure satisfaction and relief. You gently grip the sheets underneath you. He pulls your hips towards his cock. You shudder once you felt the tip graze your clit. The precum coating your sensitive bud. "Please joost" you throw a hand above your head. Arching your back and rolling your hips to gain any friction. "Fuck me." Your eyes are half lidded. You feel your lips quiver.

You sigh once you felt him push into you, his cock stretching you out."my god..doing so well for me arent you doll? I told you, you're perfect. Hm?" He hummed.You could've sworn you saw stars. He reaches down to stroke your face gently before bottoming out. You nod. Gesturing for him that he can move. But you could never adjust to his size. You cry out for him once he started really thrusting his cock inside of you. You pull him in, whimpering in his ear as he roughly fucks into you, his cock brushing over your cervix. You wrap your legs around his waist insisting to not let go as he continues pounding into your tight cunny. What more could you ask for. Joost loves you for what you are and is now fucking you right to make sure you remmeber that fact for 50 years ahead. Your thoughts completely spill out of your brain. The only thing you can register right now is how well joost is ruining your pussy right now. Not allowing you to think of anything else but his cock. "Joost. Fuck." You close your eyes tightly and grip on to his shirt. "Slow.." you feel your eyes burn despite them being closed. Your tears falling down again. "Ah!" You feel him slam his cock roughly inside of you. The sounds of your pussy squelching around him. Cum seeping out as your eyes roll to the back of your head you cum hard around his cock. But he dosent stop. He keeps pounding his cock inside of you. His groans and whimpers of your names slowing down as he finally cums inside of you. "So fucking good for.. me hm? Isn't that right liefde?" He groans out. His accent shedding through his words as he spills his cum deep inside of you. You can feel him nudging your cervix as his cum takes over your insides. You pant lightly. Catching your breath as you finally come back to your senses. You wipe the drool from your mouth. Eyes half lidded as he finally slips out of you. A trace of cum following along. He bends down and uses his fingers to stuff you full of his cum. "There..we go." He gets up. His iconic smile splattered on his face. "You good pretty?" You nod lightly. Gently getting up from the bed. You gasp once you felt joost scoop you into his arms. Carrying you as he makes his way to the bathroom. "Let's get ya cleaned ja?"..

|sorry if that was corny guys.... I tried😉🤞

[afro-hispwriter]

do you have any headcanons for aemond or ewan (idk if u write for real people) but what do you think either of them would be like in a relationship?

Dating Ewan Mitchell:

Ewan gives off very caring bf vibes

he definitely listens to you all the time

he has a genuine interest in what you say and he learns about you through that

he LOVES seeing you in his clothes

doesnt care if he slowly starts running out of shirts bc seeing you in them makes it better

HORROR MOVIE MARATHONS

ewan loves horror movies and if you don’t… he will respect that

but that doesn’t mean he wont try to convince you

maybe it works

maybe it doesn’t

or maybe you will just as long as you get to be cuddled up to him🤭

OMG CUDDLES

i feel like he gives AMAZING hugs so imagine just laying in your apartment together and he just pulls you into him or your in bed post sex and his arms are wrapped tight, maybe legs entwining with yours

COUPLE FIGHTS:((((((((

tbh i don’t think they would happen often, ewan seems like the guy to realize somethings wrong and bring it up to try and talk

and he seems pretty responsible so fights over chores probably wouldn’t happen

but not saying they wouldn’t happen, one that might happen is over work

if both of you are actors you might not have time too be with each other so there will be more understanding

but if you’re not a celebrity of any kind, it most likely will be a little difficult for you

ewan might but put job before you to often and that hurts:(

you have love and supported him through his hard times, you visit him on set, you go to his premieres

but it goes both ways

a fight would break out, maybe a screaming match followed by some silent treatment until one of you breaks probably ewan

it ends with make up sex

BIG BACK?

im not to sure about ewans cooking abilities since I've only even seen a mention of a steak

BUT if he can cook he probably would cook for you a lot when he can

or if he cant and you can then you’ll take on the cooking aspect

but if you’re not as together as youd like due to work or you’re having a lazy day

i see some take out or simply going out to dinner frequently

The LIL GREEN MONSTER

ngl ewan doesn’t seem like the jealous type NOW

but when his career started kicking off maybe he was a lil jealous of the people you hanged out with

or if you’re a little bit more well known than him and have an established career before him and you had been dating already

boy probably had to deal with the people you work with already and got used to it

but i see a silent jealous person in him if it comes down to it

staying right behind you

holding on to you at all times

maybe he will go as far as kissing you in front of everyone

neck kisses

A LOT of pecks

he might even get a lil handsy around the person

or he will try a full blown make out session and you’ll be like 😯🤨

you both like your privacy like the media might not even know but they will now depending on where its happening

he’s a professional but he loves you so much

but once you catch one to whats his deal

a lil talking too with some words of reassurance and a kiss ofc and he’s back to normal

The talk of MARRIAGE and/or kids probably would come up depending on how long you had been together

i can see ewan giving you a promise ring, especially if you had been dating since you were young

but i say give him two or three years and he’s on one knee

kids though….

not sure if ewan wants kids or if he does obviously just not now

so if you guys got married, kids probably wont happen immediately

unless you had an oopsie before or right after marriage

but the whippets are enough for you two for now🥰

thats all i got for now😙✌🏾

he seems like a pussy eating king ngl

legs trembling

the type to cum just by giving you pleasure

imagine the groans😩

IMAGINE THE CHAIN DANGLING

THIS ISNT A NSFW FUCKK

-

a/n- first time writing a headcannon😗i know this was supposed to be both ewan and aemond but aemonds will come later🥰

[aronkiepronkie]

"dude, tanaka, bro. you don't get it. she's super mega better than kiyoko." "but no one's better than queen kiyoko, noya!" tanaka argues, he looks at noya like he's out of his mind, noya simply shakes his head with his hands firmly placed on his hips. "nope, yn's like...i dunno. whats better than a queen?" noya thinks, his hand leaves his hips to tap his finger on his chin and tanaka stares at the short boy, awaiting his answer. "stop looking at me!" noya yells at tanakas intense gaze. "no matter what you say, or how angrily you look at me, i wont change my mind!" he says loudly, stomping dramatically out the classroom. "but noya!" tanaka protests, trying to catch noyas attention to no avail. "cant talk, i gotta meet yn in the smart class!" "noya!" tanakas angry shouts go deaf to noyas ears as he makes his way to your class.

you scribble words in your notebook before closing it, glancing to your phone when it vibrates, noyas name illuminating the screen.

"hey pretty girl"

"im coming over to ur class rn"

you smile at the messages and grab your phone to text him a simple, "okay, i packed you some lunch" "hope ur hungry <3". the last text you sent was a bit of a silly one, you never had to hope he was hungry for your homemade lunches because he would always scarf the food down in less than 5 minutes while he listens intently to what you have to ramble on about, slipping in a few jokes with a stuffed mouth, full of food, that never failed to make you laugh. you glance at the time, its only been a minute after your teacher announced it was lunch, and noya was already sprinting to your class to see you. the door swings open and an excited shout of your name follows. you look up at the familiar voice and see noya confidently striding towards you, dragging a chair next to you and sitting in it, his arm swinging over your shoulder, a few curious eyes stare, noya pays no attention, his eyes practically shaped in beating red hearts as he stares at you, a dopey grin splayed across his face, and he speaks up. "hey gorgeous." he starts, stroking his fingers through your hair as he admires you. "hmmm, yn...you kinda look like you're missing something today." he asks, tilting his head as he scans your face and you just chuckle. this isn't the first time he's said this to you, you'll ask, "what am i missing today, noya?" and he'll respond with a big, toothy smile, "a big fat kiss on those pretty lips of yours.". today's no different, you don't stop the passionate boy from leaning in, angling his head to the right and raising his hand to cup your cheek. his soft lips (that he spends way too much time trying to make as soft as they can possibly be for you) meet yours in a slow, sensual way, a quiet smacking noise leaving both of your collided lips. noyas body scoots closer to yours and he tries to discreetly grab at your waist, but you swat his hand away before his greedy fingers could reach under your shirt. "noya." you warn him against his lips. "hehe, oops." is all he mutters before pulling your mouth onto his again, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, subtly asking for you to part your lips so he can explore your mouth, and you pull away. "seriously?" you deadpan at him, furrowing your brows. "what? you look seriously super duper extra mega pretty today. can't help myself." he confesses, a smile still present on his lips, a lovesick look in his eyes that's screaming "you're so beautiful and i love you so much" so painfully loud. you can't help but smile at the gaze he gives you, and you cover his face with your palm, pushing his head to the side as you reach for your bag. "oouh! is it time for my food?" noya exclaims, his smile growing wider as you pull out a bento box, snapping the sides open and his eyes glow at the onigiri and steamed meat buns. "yn!" he cries out your name loudly and immediately grabs a meat bun, shoving the whole thing in his mouth, melting at the delicious taste. "yn! you're so kind! making me food...its so yummy!" he bawls out in happiness, chewing contently with his eyes closed. "you're welcome, noya." "thank you! thank you yn! you're the best girlfriend ever!" he thanks you over and over, taking a big bite out of the onigiri.

hes so cute literally bf goals. also meat buns are so flipping good pls im craving them now

[actual-changeling]

do you think crowley ever stopped time simply to look at aziraphale's face for a little while longer? to commit it to memory because it's all he has?

do you think it was perfectly harmless, like those handful of stolen minutes that one evening in the bookshop when he had taken off his vest and laughed with enough joy to make the room glow? or one early morning in the park when the sunlight hit his cheekbones just so and crowley wanted the world to be nothing but golden and blue angel for a little bit longer?

do you think it became more desperate after the apocalypse-that-wasn't? time stopped out of fear, to check a room again and again, to frantically try and remember every freckle and lock of hair just in case something was going to happen to him, to them?

(just in case just in case just in case)

do you think at one point, drunk and half-stuck in his nightmares, crowley sat on the bookshop's floor in the middle of the night after having stopped time the second he snapped awake in his flat? aziraphale was completely unaware of his presence and curled up in his armchair with a good book, but crowley pressed his knees to his chest and looked at him without blinking for what might have been hours as well as days.

time frozen at his bidding, listening to the voice of the being who had once been the starmaker, and when he allowed it to keep moving (back in bed, awake, staring at the ceiling) the world exhaled a breath no one knew it had been holding.

do you think he stopped it right after the kiss?

it was instinct, he hadn't meant to, but crowley knew exactly which words were about to leave his mouth, and every cell in his body had rebelled. his heart had already been broken, yes, but when he sank to the floor in a familiar spot and looked up at him, he could pretend everything was fine.

just for a little bit. he deserves that much, right?

crowley took off his glasses and rested his chin on his arms, knees drawn up against his chest like they are wont to be, and tried to imagine what his life was going to be like once he pressed play.

do you think he was tempted to simply let it be? to freeze everything for as long as he could manage and die and turn to dust once all his power had run out?

i love you he said like so many times before, always into frozen silence. three words, every single time, nothing else.

i love you.

crowley knew he had to let it- him go eventually, but where's the harm in living in the moment for a little while longer? so he sat and watched, unmoving and unblinking, and wished he could turn back time instead of stopping it.

then again, (i love you, he whispers, right before he let's him go), he wasn't sure if he would want to reverse any of this. it was worth it, all of it, even if it ended like this.

crowley never liked tragedies—maybe because he knew he had been living in one all along.

[percevalec]

THIS WONT STAY IN VEGAS {part 3}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You went clubbing with your friend, celebrating her moving to Vegas. You got drunk and don't remember anything. The next morning you find yourself in bed with a stranger and a ring around your finger

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, smut, not proof read.

18+, please don’t read in you’re underage

do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

You stand there by the sink, left puzzled by Arthur’s cryptic words. You try to remember who Alexandra is, but nothing comes to mind. The name doesn’t ring a bell.

----------

As you're walking back to Charles' room your mind suddenly reminded you that you do know her, well not personally. You remember reading something about her being his ex girlfriend during that google search you did on your way to the airport. 

As you enter the room, you see Charles laying on the bed, his phone in his hand. “Hey” you say as you walk over and lay next to him. By this point none of you found it weird or uncomfortable to spend time together, it was like second nature to always be close to each other. Mostly because you had to keep the act up in front of Pascal. Also you simply enjoyed each other's company, but you'd never admit that to yourself. 

Charles looks up from his phone as you enter the room, a soft smile forming on his lips. "Hey" he replies, setting his phone aside. He watches as you plop down on the bed, his eyes following your movements. “Guess what” you say, lifting your head to look over at him. Charles rolls onto his side to face you, his interest piqued by your tone. "What?" he asks, his gaze fixed on your face. “Arthur knows” you say in a surprisingly casual tone. Charles' eyes widened in surprise at your words. He wasn't expecting that. "Wait, what?! How does he know?" he asks, extremely confused as to why you’re so calm. “He overheard our conversation from three days ago, but he said he didn’t really care and he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone”. Charles takes a moment to absorb the information, relief washing over him at the fact that Arthur had promised to keep the secret. "Well that's good at least" he sighs. "The last thing we need is the media or my mom finding out." 

You respond with a slight guilt in your voice “Yeah, I think your mom likes me which makes this whole thing even more complicated than it already is” Charles nods in agreement, sadness in his expression. "She does, she loves every little thing about you." He reaches out and takes your hand in his, his fingers tracing your ring. "It's hard because she would be upset with both of us if she knew the truth." You sigh at his words, know "Right," he says quietly, disappointment in his voice. He had forgotten that he wasn't supposed to touch you like that, not when it was all pretend.  “Oh, i almost forgot, remember the party your mom is hosting next sunday” Charles furrows his eyebrows at the sudden change of conversation "Yeah, why?"  he says, his mind already drifting to the thought of the event. “Arthur told me to let you know that alexandra is coming, who is she?”. You still ask despite knowing the answer. You were curious to know what he would say.

Charles's eyes widened at the mention of the name "Alexandra." He hadn't expected you to ever say her name, he was left momentarily speechless. Groaning before answering. "She's an ex-girlfriend" he says, his tone guarded. “...Can I ask what happened?” you ask as you look down at the bed, avoiding his gaze. Charles lets out another deep sigh. "It's a bit of an old story," he says, his voice becoming quieter. "We dated for a few years, and then we just grew apart and eventually, it ended”. You nod your head as you listen to his story unsure on what to say. You look up at him and decide on “I'm sorry”. "It's fine," he replies, offering a small smile, though you can tell there's still a hint of sadness in his eyes. "It was a long time ago." He pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath. “So why is your mom inviting her? especially now that we’re “married”. Charles sighs “She's the daughter of one of my moms friends, so she's always been around, even before we were dating. I'm surprised she even agreed to coming, we’ve been avoiding each other for a while”. 

You could tell this wasn't a simple story of a failed relationship. Maybe she meant more to Charles than you thought. “Maybe it's because she’s seen the articles about our perfect love story” you say laughing. Charles chuckles dryly, "Oh, I'm sure that's why," he says, rolling his eyes. "And she likely can't wait to make some snarky comment about it". “We can just avoid her, either way we have to be extremely convincing about our relationship during the party” Charles nods, taking your words to heart. "Yeah, well we can try to avoid her as much as possible, but she will probably want to talk to us." He sighs, contemplating the situation. "And you're right, we definitely have to sell this whole “perfect love” act even more at the party."

“Do you think it will be hard?” you ask.

Charles leans back against the headboard of the bed, mulling over your question. "Honestly?" he says, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I don't know. Pretending to be in love with you in front of our families has been... easier than I thought. But with Alexandra there, it could get complicated. She has a way of getting under my skin."

You’re not sure why his words made your stomach turn, but they did. So you ask the question you really don't want to know the answer to. “Do you still love her?” 

Charles is caught off guard by your direct question, his initial instinct was to deflect. But looking at your face, he knew he couldn't lie. "I don't know," he admits quietly, shaking his head. "There are still... feelings. But it's complicated ." He looks back at you, searching your eyes for any hint of jealousy or annoyance. “Well maybe she can be the reason for our divorce” you suggest, trying to make a positive out of a negative. You needed an excuse for the divorce either way, You had originally thought about a big public fight but this made things easier, Charles leaving you to be with his true love. It would be the first thing both of you didn't lie about.  

“You’ll realize you love her more than you loved me, that’s something the media will buy”. Charles hears the tinge of sadness in your voice and looks at you, his face softening. "You think so?" he asks, his tone laced with a hint of guilt for answering your question about Alexandra in the first place. "You'd be okay with the world thinking I fell for my ex girlfriend while being married to you?". Not truly wanting to answer his question, you reply “it doesn’t matter what i think, it's just an excuse to get out of this” Charles let out a deep sigh, the thought of having to explain to the world that he fell for someone else while being married to you didn't sit well with him, but he had no choice. "Yeah, I guess that's the best way" he finally says, reluctantly agreeing with your plan. “I’m sorry I'm in the way of you and her” you say in a low voice, almost whispering. Charles shakes his head, reaching over to take your hand in his. "You're not in the way," he says firmly, looking into your eyes. "This whole situation is just... complicated. And it's not your fault. It's not like you wanted to be fake married to me." You nod your head forcing a smile “yeah, of course”. 

Charles's heart twists at the sight of your forced smile. He wishes he could do more to ease your pain, but he knows that the situation is out of his control. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. “You love doing that don’t you” you ask chuckling, referring to him putting your hair behind your ear. A small smile tugs at the corner of Charles's lips as he realizes he's been caught. "Yeah, I guess I do," he admits sheepishly. "It just... feels natural, I guess." He lets his hand linger against your cheek for a moment, his touch tender. "Sometimes I wonder," you say, your voice soft and full of unsaid feelings. "What if we had met in a different way?” A soft sigh escaped your lips as you continued "I wonder where we’d be now". Charles lets out a wistful sigh as he contemplates your question, his mind wandering to the what if's. "Me too," he says quietly, his gaze fixed on your face. "If we had met under different circumstances... I wonder what could've been." 

 Neither of you say anything. You just stare into each other's eyes. 

"You're staring" he finally says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re staring back” you reply, laughing at his words 

Charles lets out a low chuckle, his smirk widening. "Fair enough," he concedes, his eyes never leaving yours. “I'm getting sleepy, it's been a long day. Goodnight Charlie” you say before kissing his cheek and turning over. Charles’s heart skips a beat at the feel of your lips on his cheek, a small shiver running down his spine. He looks at your turned back, his gaze lingering on your form. “Goodnight,” he says quietly, the hint of a smile on his lips.

WEEK 2 DAY 3 

You and Charles wake up around the same time as always. You both get ready and head downstairs to the kitchen. That’s when you both realize that you're the only one home. "Looks like we've got the place to ourselves today," he says with a hint of surprise in his voice. “What should we do?” you ask as you walk closer to him.

Charles and you have now spent 14 days together, counting from the day you saw each other at the club, and you’re becoming inseparable. Despite not letting yourself, you still feel attracted to Charles and everyday it gets harder to suppress your feelings. Even after he confessed he still feels something for Alex. What you don't know is that he only started thinking about her again to not think about you. He started this ever since you turned him down the other day. He remembers your words perfectly “this could never work”.

Charles thinks about your question for a moment, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "Well, we've got the whole house to ourselves," he says, a hint of excitement in his tone. "Why don't we make the most of it?". 

You walk closer. “Yeah? And how would we do that?. Charles grins as you walk closer to him, his eyes sparkling with a hint of playfulness. "Well, let's see," he says, pretending to think. "We could watch a movie, bake something, or..." He steps closer to you, his voice dropping to a low, seductive tone. “Or….?” you whisper. Charles closes the remaining distance between you, his body just inches away from yours. He looks down at you, his gaze intense. "Or we could do something... more fun," he says, his voice a sultry whisper. “Actually, I think I'm craving Italian, take me to dinner” you say laughing as you step back. Charles feigns disappointment for a moment before chuckling softly. "Fine, Italian it is," he says, playfully rolling his eyes. "But only if I get to pick where we're going”. “You know this place better than I do anyways” Charles grins, happy to be the one who gets to choose. "Exactly," he says, a hint of smugness in his voice. "I know all the best spots in this city." He held out his hand "Ready to go?". 

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

On your way to the restaurant you surprisingly only get stopped 3 times for pictures. Charles seems completely unfazed, smiling and waving graciously each time. As you finally arrive at the restaurant, he leads you inside, a hand placed on your lower back.

Charles and you are led to a secluded table in a quiet corner of the restaurant. He pulls out a chair for you before taking his own seat. "I've been here many times," he says, looking around the elegant space. "It's one of my favorite Italian spots in the city." You look around taking in the beauty “You know, i'll definitely miss Monaco when this is over”. "Yeah," he says quietly, his gaze drifting to the window outside. "But you'll come back to visit, right?" His ask, eyes flicking back to you. “Only if you bring me back here” you joke. A small smile tugs at the corner of Charles's lips. "Of course," he says, playing along. "This is definitely the best Italian food you'll ever have. You'll be craving it for months after you're gone." 

You order your meals and continue talking as you eat, the conversation flowing effortlessly between you. 

Charles leans back in his chair, a hint of a smile on his lips. "You know," he says suddenly, his eyes fixed on yours. "You're not bad to be married to. We make a pretty convincing couple." You laugh at his comment “Shut up” you say smiling. Charles mock-gasps in exaggerated surprise, placing a hand against his chest. "Hey, it's not my fault we're so good at pretending!" he protests, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Everything continues going fine when suddenly your heart drops as you hear a voice calling your name. No one knew you here except Charles and his family. So it could only be one person, Leonardo.   

“Y/N Y/L/N … or i guess it’s Y/N Leclerc now” he says chuckling “Never thought i would see you here again, especially married” Charles head snaps up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, his muscles tensing almost instantly. He looks at you and sees the color drain from your face. “Leo, i never thought i would see you again either” you say giving Charles an apologetic look. This is the one thing you should have told him. The real reason you came to Monaco the first time. 

A few years back you were madly in love with Leonardo. You both met in New York, his mom used to Co-own the magazine company with your mother. Everything was perfect, whenever you thought about getting married you always pictured him waiting at the altar. So you agreed to move back home with him in Monaco, that's when your relationship started falling apart. He would come home late and blame it on the crazy traffic “so many tourists” he would say, trying to use it as an excuse. You believed him. Until one day you walked in the house and found him fucking some random girl. Your world came down and you swore to never return, he ruined you, you were a mess after the incident. You always turned down anything to do with Monaco in fear you would run into him in the small country. Charles dragging you here is what made you come to love Monaco, you realized the only bad thing here was Leo.

Charles looks at you, confusion and a hint of hurt crossing his face. He had no idea about your past with the man who had suddenly appeared. He remains silent, watching the interaction between you and Leo. “I couldn't believe it when I first read the articles and saw that you got married to a F1 driver,” he says, looking back and forth to you and charles. “Well unexpected things can happen” you say, giving him a fake smile. “How is she?” Leo asks Charles. “Well she's better with me than she ever was with you” Charles replied. He took a gamble with his response, he knew nothing about the man standing at your table, but by the look on your face he could tell you wanted him gone. 

“Hmm right, I'm sure she told you all about me, I just can't believe you convinced her to move back” he says laughing. “Just go leo, there's nothing we need to talk about, besides, i know you have bad luck and get stuck in traffic” you say glaring at him. “I will go, but not because you're telling me to. Tiffany is waiting in the car, you’ve met her Y/N." Leo says smiling as he nudges your shoulder and leaves. You hold in your breath as he says the last few words, assuming she's the girl you caught him with. Charles watches the exchange between you and Leo, his jaw clenching tighter with each word spoken. He can sense the tension in the air, the history that lies between you and Leo. His mind is racing with questions

Charles is left speechless as he processes what just happened. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He stares at Leo as he leaves the restaurant. Finally, he turns to you, his gaze a mix of confusion and hurt. "What the hell was that?" he snaps, his voice barely above a murmur. “Can we just go, i'll explain on the way home” You say as you stand up. Charles lets out a deep breath, his hands clenched into fists. "Yeah," he mutters, getting up from his seat. "Let's just go."

The walk home is filled with an uncomfortable silence. Charles's mind is reeling with questions, his body tense with anger. He glances over at you, his jaw set in a tight line as he listens silently to you laying out the details of your past with Leo. His eyes stay fixed on the sidewalk. When you finish speaking, the walk falls quiet again as Charles processes everything he's just heard. “I'm sorry i should have told you” you say breaking the silence. Charles sighs, his grip on his fist loosening slightly. "Yeah, you should have," he says, his voice betraying a hint of hurt. "I can't believe you kept something like that from me, especially with all the time we've spent together”. “I didn't think it would be important for you to know,” you say, slightly agitated. Charles turns to you, his eyes flashing with a hint of anger. "You didn't think it was important for me to know about your ex-boyfriend who lives in Monaco?" he says, his voice strained. "You don't think that's something I should've known about?" your eyes tear up “How was i supposed to know we would run into him” Charles glances at you, seeing the tears welling up in your eyes. He takes a deep breath, his hand twitching slightly as he fights the urge to reach out to you. "Yeah, whatever" he mutters, his tone softening a bit. "But it still would've been nice to know that I could’ve been confronted by your ex at some point".  “You don't get to be mad with me about this, you also didn't tell me about Alex, or how you still love her” 

Charles bristles at your words, his jaw clenching at the mention of Alexandra. "That's different," he snaps, his eyes flickering between you and the road. "I eventually told you where my feelings stand. You never told me anything about Leo". You hold back tears, “There was no point in telling you anyways, there's only 2 weeks left before I never have to see you again”  Charles’ heart clenches at your words, the reality of the situation washing over him yet again. He lets out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, that's right. Two more weeks of pretending until we can go back to our separate lives, right?" “Don't make me regret agreeing to this” you say as tears run down your eyes. You watch the anger and hurt falter from Charles at the sight of your tears. His heart aches at the sight of your pain, and he feels a pang of guilt for lashing out at you. He lets out a deep sigh. "I don't want you to regret anything," he mutters, his voice softer now.

The rest of the walk is silent until you reach home. 

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

Charles follows you upstairs and into his bedroom. The room is quiet, the only sound coming from the soft hum of the air. He closes the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as he gazes at you. You walk over to the nightstand, taking off your earrings before glaring back at him. He watches you silently for a few moments, his eyes tracing the lines of your face. He looks conflicted, a mix of anger and longing on his expression. After a moment, he crosses the room and sits down on the edge of the bed, gesturing for you to join him. You comply and join him, letting out a sigh as you sit down next to him, the mattress sinking under your combined weight. He reaches out tentatively, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice full of remorse. "I shouldn’t have gotten angry”. You let the silence linger a bit before replying “It’s fine, I should have told you.” Charles looks down at your joined hands, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin. "Yeah, you should have," he says quietly. "But I can understand why you didn’t. It’s not exactly easy to talk about past relationships”. You dont reply and simply rest against him. He hesitates for a moment before gently wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer, watching as you turn your head up to look at him. He looks down at you, his eyes meeting yours.

He takes in the sight of your face, so close to his own. His gaze flickers back and forth between your eyes and your lips, his heart starting to race. Charles can feel the heat radiating off your body, the sound of your breathing filling his ears. He looks down at you, his lips parting slightly as he fights the desire to close the distance between you. He clenches his jaw, his hand unconsciously tightening around your waist, his other hand on your cheek feels warm and soft. His thumb tracing small circles on your skin. He pulls your face closer, now just inches apart. He inhales deeply, the scent of your perfume filling his nostrils. 

“Charles we ca-” Charles’ hand moves from your cheek to your chin, holding it tightly. "Shut up, shut up Y/N. Stop reminding me that I can't have you". His words leave you shocked, you expected him to let go like he's done other times, but part of you is glad he didn't. “Kiss me” you whisper. Charles's heart thunders in his chest, his breaths quickening at your words. For a moment he hesitates, warring with his own feelings, but in the end, he gives in. His hand slides from your face to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he jumps at the sound of someone knocking the bedroom door. You also jump at the sudden noise ruining the moment. “We’re home” Arthur yells through the door. Charles lets out a curse word under his breath as he hears Arthur's voice from the other side of the door. He reluctantly pulls away from you, his hand sliding off your neck as he calls out, "Okay whatever”. 

You slightly move away from Charles as you laugh. He shoots you a mock-annoyed look, his lips twitching in a faint smile despite his best efforts. "Oh, you think it’s funny, huh?" he teases, crossing his arms over his chest. “We can never have a moment can we” you say smiling. Charles lets out a short laugh, his arms dropping back to his sides. "No, apparently not," he mutters, shaking his head. "Someone’s always interrupting us”. Without hesitation you bluntly speak your thoughts “i wish i could remember the night we hooked up”. Charles almost chokes on his own breath at your sudden words. His mind goes blank for a moment as he processes what you just said. Then, he laughs hoarsely. "Y/N, you can't just say things like that without warning”. “Please, I know you've also thought the same thing”. Charles is speechless for a moment, rendered speechless by your comment. He has thought it, the memory of that night a blur due to all the alcohol that was consumed. But hearing you say it out loud, without any hint of embarrassment, throws him off. He shakes his head, a mixture of amusement and desire flickering in his eyes. 

WEEK 2 DAY 7

The days pass and Sunday, the day of the party, quickly approaches. Charles' mom is in a frenzy, preparing for the event. Charles himself is nervous, the thought of seeing Alexandra again making him visibly uneasy. 

The night approaches and both you and Charles get ready in his room. Charles stands in front of the mirror in the bedroom, adjusting his tie. He glances at you, taking in your appearance. "You look good," he says quietly, a hint of a smile on his face. “Thank you” you reply while trying to cover the blush creeping in on your face. “We should probably head downstairs” you suggest as you walk towards him. Charles's eyes move over your figure. He swallows, his mind flashing back to the memories of you almost kissing him yesterday. Charles nods, tearing his gaze away from you. "Yeah, we should," he mutters. He takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the night ahead. He holds out his hand for you to take. "Ready?" You take his hand and smile as you walk towards the party. 

The Party is buzzing with chatter and laughter of guests, music playing in the background. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the sparkle of champagne. Charles tightens his grip on your hand as you walk further into the room, his eyes scanning the crowd. 

A few minutes go by and not much has happened yet. Just random guests congratulating you or boring you with small talk. While Charles is talking to one of the guests, you whisper “I'm going to go get a drink” in his ear. Charles nods, understanding your need to escape the boring talk for a moment. "Yeah, okay" He lets go of your hand reluctantly, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. You leave and make your way to the drink station. As you’re pouring yourself a drink you think about how in a few hours this whole situation was going to end in a week. You were going to miss Charles more than you wanted to admit, your mind thought back to the conversation you had with him about how it was “never going to work” but maybe it could work. He made you happy and you needed to accept that. You need to stop pushing him away. So you decided on telling him how you felt tonight. 

But as you come back with your drink, you notice Charles engaged in conversation with Alexandra. They're standing close together, their faces mere feet apart. Charles' expression is polite and guarded, Alex's lips twisted in a smile. Fuck you thought to yourself. The stupid “plan” of letting Charles flirt with Alex to win her back had completely slipped your mind. What if maybe he did want to get the divorce?, after all there he was talking with her. 

Charles turns at the sound of your footsteps approaching, his eyes locking on yours as you come to a stop next to him. A flicker of nervousness passes over his face, replaced quickly by a neutral expression. Alexandra looks up at you, her smile faltering slightly as she takes in your presence. “Hey” you say politely greeting the woman your husband was going to eventually leave you for. "Hey," Alexandra says, her voice cool and aloof. Her gaze moves between you and Charles, a hint of contempt in her eyes. Charles stays silent, his hand unconsciously clenching at his side. “I’m Y/N” you say, extending your hand to greet her. Alexandra looks at your hand, her eyes narrowing as she takes in your gesture. After a moment, she reaches out and shakes your hand, her grip strong and deliberate. "I'm Alexandra," she says with a harsh tone “I used to date Charles”. He watches the interaction between you and Alexandra, his jaw clenching at the slight hostility coming from her. He doesn't like the way she's looking at you, the jealousy in her eyes. “I know,” You respond in a calm tone before turning to Charles “i hope i'm not interrupting anything” "No, of course not," Charles says quickly, shaking his head. He glances at Alexandra, who purses her lips and says nothing.

You softly smile “well i'm going to excuse myself, enjoy the party”. Charles reaches out and grabs your wrist, pulling you back. "Wait," he says urgently, his voice low. “What” you whisper back. He leans in close to you, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't go," he murmurs, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly. "Please." You swallow as you say words you don't mean “This is your chance to win her back Charles. It will help our little divorce story”. Charles looks torn at your words, his gaze flickering between you and Alexandra. His heart is torn between wanting to keep you with him and wanting to keep up the façade and follow through with a plan he doesn't even want part in. He's only agreeing because he thinks you’re never going to give him a chance. Not with the way you dont let him touch you or say sweet things to you, and how you always have to remind him none of this is real, and you never gave him any hope that this would  last more than 4 weeks you agreed to spend with him before going back to Vegas and finalizing the divorce.  

"I know," he mutters, his voice strained. "Just... don't go too far. Stay somewhere I can see you." You nod and make your way through the crowd of people. Charles watches you walk away, his heart heavy with mixed emotions. He turns back to Alexandra, who is watching you leave with a hint of happiness in her eyes. 

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

A few hours pass and Chales and Alex are still talking with each other. You can't stand the sight of him making her laugh or how her hand lingers too long on his arm. You need a distraction from this, so you make your way to the bathroom, taking a moment to compose yourself. Your heart is racing with a mix of emotions, the sight of them together stirring up feelings of jealousy and pain you never thought you would experience at the hands of a fake relationship. You make the irrational decision and decide to pull out your phone and dial Leo's number. 

“Hey leonardo, its Y/N” 

Leo picks up on the other end of the line, his voice deep and smooth. "Hey Y/N, what's up?"

“I sent you my location, can you meet me here” 

Leo's curiosity is piqued at your request. "Yeah, sure. I'll be there in a few minutes".

“Hurry” is all you say before hanging up the call. A sense of dread washing over you. 

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

You check your phone and see that Leo has texted you, letting you know that he's arrived. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you're about to do. Leo walks in through the door, his eyes scanning the room as he takes in the sight of the party. He spots you immediately, his face breaking into a smile as he walks over to you. “Hi” you say in a low voice. "Hey," Leo replies, his voice just as low. He glances around, making sure no one is eavesdropping on your conversation. "What's going on? Finally realized I'm better than that F1 driver?" he says laughing. Why, just why did you have to do this.”'Let's talk somewhere more private” You say as you drag him to a vacant room. 

As Charles continues talking with Alex, his eyes instinctively drift towards you. He observes you in the distance, walking with someone to the empty room. A puzzled expression forms on his face as he wonders who you even know at the party. Minutes go by, and Charles notices that you haven’t left the room. His curiosity piqued, a sense of worry creeping in, he excuses himself from the conversation and makes his way towards the room you’re in."

You and Leo walk through the crowd, Leo following you as you lead the way to an empty room. As you enter, you shut the door behind you, the noise from the party outside quickly fading to a low murmur. “I just need to get my mind off him” You say as you walk closer to him. Leo looks at you, a hint of curiosity and confusion in his eyes as you approach. “What exactly is the reason you invited me here?" You close the distance between both of you “I don't know” you whisper. He grabs your face “Want me to kiss you?”

 Charles was simply talking to Alex, nothing more, yet here you were about to kiss your ex, all because you don't believe Charles actually likes you. 

You nod at Leo's words, but as he's about to close the distance you hear the door open. 

Charles enters the room, his footsteps halting suddenly as he takes in the sight before him. His eyes widen in shock as he sees you and Leo so close together. He stands frozen for a moment, unable to speak. His mind is racing, processing the scene before him. He looks from you to Leo, anger and hurt warring in his expression. “I- I can e- Charles it's not what you think” You say as you back away from Leo. Charles clenches his jaw, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The sight has struck him like a blow to the gut, bringing up a tidal wave of emotions. He says nothing as he grabs your wrist and drags you up the stairs to his room. 

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

12:00 AM WEEK 3 DAY 1 

Charles pushes you into the room, the door slamming shut behind you with a loud thud. The room is plunged into silence for a moment as he turns to face you, his expression a storm of conflicting emotions. “Charles, I'm sorry” you say as you turn around to face him. He stares at you with dark eyes and an intense stare. "Sorry?" he repeats, his voice low and harsh. "You're sorry for what, huh? For kissing another guy?". Tears formed in your eye “I didn't kiss him. And even if i did it's not like we are actually together”. Charles lets out a strangled laugh at that, his expression hardening. "Oh, so that makes it okay then? You could just kiss whoever you want because we're not together?" Silence lingers before you speak up “I saw you talking to Alex for hours and i got jealous, i acted on impulse i fucked up i know”. Charles takes a step towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because that's what you wanted me to do, try and fall in love with her so the divorce can have a reason behind it” He yells “But did you ever think that I don't want to leave you”. His words still somehow caught you by surprise. 

“What?” you whisper. Charles lets out a sigh, his hand raking through his hair. "Jesus, do I really have to spell it out for you?" he snaps. "I don't want to leave you, I never did. I want to be with you, always. But you... you always turned me down. Did you even think about how I would feel?".

“You told me you still loved her” you reply.  Charles scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Love her?" he says, his voice dripping with bitterness. "I said that to see if you would just finally admit your possible feelings for me. But It was all an act, a performance to please you so we could have an “excuse” for our divorce. ... You were the one I truly want”. “I'm sorry” is all you manage to say. Despite everything his eyes soften slightly as he looks at you. "Sorry doesn't fix everything, you know," he mutters, his voice laced with a hint of pain. “I wasn't thinking, I was jealous of her, I thought she was the one you wanted, and you’ve been with her longer and know her better. I didn't think I stood a chance next to her” Charles's expression softens further as he hears your words. "You thought I didn't want you?" he asks, his voice quieter now. "That I'd rather be with her than you?" He takes a step closer to you, his eyes roaming over your face. "You've really been that blind?" he asks, a hint of disbelief in his tone. "All this time, you really thought I didn't want you?" He reaches out, tentatively taking your hand in his. “You tried to tell me so many times, in so many ways. Yet i never tried to give us a chance” you whisper

Charles nods, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "Yeah, I tried. But you didn't listen," he says, his voice a mixture of anger and resignation. "You were so fixated on the divorce, on this act, that you didn't see the genuine feelings I had for you." You say nothing, you simply just look into his eyes. Charles lets out a sigh, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "Did you really think all those looks, all those little moments between us, were just pretend?" he asks, his voice quiet but laced with a hint of hurt. “I’ve always felt something for you” you finally admit. Charles's breath hitches at your words, his eyes searching your face. "Do you really mean that?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You nod “I tried to avoid the feelings because I was scared about what the media and your fans would say, and I didn't want to keep up the lie of how we met but I don't care, I don't care anymore because all I know is that I want you”  

HIs expression softens further as he hears your confession, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "You idiot," he mutters, a hint of a smile on his lips. "You wasted all this time trying to deny what you really want, all because you were scared of what other people would think?"

You can't help but laugh at your stupid actions. Charles smiles at the sound of your laughter, the tension in the room slowly beginning to ease. "You just had to make everything so complicated, didn't you?" he teases, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I won't mess up again” you say leaning into his touch. Charles's eyes hold a fierce determination as he speaks, his hand still resting on your cheek. "I hope not, because I'm not going to let anyone or anything come between us again. No more lies, no more hiding. Just you and me." You smile at his words “I like that idea”. Charles grins at your response, his hand sliding down to cup your chin. "Good," he says, his voice taking on a huskier tone. "Because I've been dreaming about having you all to myself for far too long”. 

You feel a sense of desire wash over you as he speaks. Now that both of you have made it clear where your feelings stand, you can finally give in to the attraction you have for him. The desire that you've been trying to convince yourself doesn't exist. “You know… everyone is downstairs so no one is going to interrupt us if we kiss” you tell Charles in a low seductive voice. Charles's grin widens at your suggestion, his eyes darkening with need. "Finally. no interruptions" he responds, his tone matching yours. He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist as his lips move towards yours. You spent so much time pushing him away so it's only fair that you make the first move. After 3 weeks since the last kiss, your lips meet again. Charles responds eagerly, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. There is a hint of desperation in the way he kisses you, as if he's trying to make up for the time he's lost. His hands slide your lower back, pulling you against his body. Neither of you care about the party downstairs.  

The kiss deepens, Charles's tongue tangling with yours as he devours your mouth. The only sound in the room is the mingled gasps and moans as the kiss becomes more intense and passionate. “I need you” you whine as you break the kiss. Charles's eyes widen at your words, a primal desire igniting within him at the needy tone of your voice. He tightens his grip on you, his hands roaming your body without restraint. "You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you to say that" he says as his lips find their way to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. You guide Charles backwards, never breaking the contact of his lips on your skin. You steer him towards the bed, your movements purposeful and full of want. As the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, he pushes you onto the bed, climbing on top of you in one fluid motion. You waste no time, you quickly remove his tie and unbutton his shirt. His breathing quickens at your actions, his body responding eagerly to your touch. His hands roam your body, desperate to once again feel your skin against his. He nips and kisses at your lips as he pushes your dress up over your head, discarding it carelessly on the floor beside the bed. 

“Please touch me” you say in between kisses. Charles' eyes darkened at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Oh now you want me to touch you" he says, his voice thick with lust and humor. His mouth continues its descent, his tongue tracing a path over your chest and down to your stomach. His hands move lower, gripping the waistband of your panties, as if silently asking for permission. You eagerly nod watching his fingers quickly push them down over your hips, leaving you bare. His eyes roam over your body, a look of pure hunger in his gaze. “So beautiful,” he whispers. Charles stands up to take off his pants, his eyes watching you intently as he throws them aside. He shifts his body as he comes near you again, pressing himself against you, his skin now flush against yours. His hands wander down to your hips, gripping them possessively as he pulls you closer. You moan at the feeling of having him pressed up against you. Charles smiles at you , his eyes fixated on yours. "Just relax, I've got you." He lifts himself up with one arm, his eyes roaming over your body as he positions himself with your entrance. 

You can't help but moan at the feeling of him going inside of you. He looks down at you, his eyes locking on yours as he slowly applies speed, his lips parting slightly as he lets out a gasp. "Are you okay?" he asks huskily, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah” you reply in a shaky breath as you watch him thrust into you. Charles groaned, his head falling back as he felt you on him. “O-oh fuck.” He gasps, his hands automatically moving to your hips guiding your moves. 

After moments of continuing like this you feel yourself reaching your high “Charles in gonna…” you say in between your sounds of pleasure. Charles smiles at you “Fuck, me too” he says, his voice desperate. His thrusts become harder making you both reach your climax. He moans against your ear as you move your hips to ride out your high. 

“I needed that for so long” you moan as Charles lays next to you, his chest heaving with exhausted breaths. He nuzzles his face into your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around your body. 

“Could have done this a lot sooner ” he says, his voice hoarse and raw. “Whatever” you say as you chuckle. Charles moves away from your neck, his eyes looking into yours with a warm expression before speaking. “I'm sure this made it clear but i don't want to go back to vegas, i don't want to get divorced”  You grin widens at his words, your eyes lighting up with pleasure. “Is that so?” you say, your tone light and teasing. “You’re sure you don’t want to go back to pretending we’re in love?” you joke. Charles laughs at your words “Stop it” he says as he pokes your side. You laugh along with him, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sorry, sorry," you say, your tone unapologetic. "I just couldn't resist. But in all seriousness,” you continue, your expression growing more sincere. “I don't want a divorce either. I want you, all of you. For real this time”. 

“No more pushing me away,” he says in a low voice.

You shake your head, your eyes fixed intently on his. "No more pushing you away," you agreed, your voice firm and unwavering. "No more games, no more secrets. Just us, no pretending, no Vegas." You smile as you continue your sentence “But when we meet someone new, and they ask about us. Will we still keep up the lie on how we met?” you ask Charles. He laughs at your question “Well yes, we still can't have anyone finding out the truth”. You nod your head in understandment “Well then there's still one more person we need to lie to” 

Charles raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth “Yeah? who?”

“My mom, in New York” You reply smiling 

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

A/N: Finally the end! I really hope you guys enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed and loved writing it. I'm new to the writing community and the love you guys have showed me is amazing and it really motivates me. Thank you <3.

TAGLIST: @tsireyasgf @v4mp1r3bl0g @asparklysoul @sltwins @janeh22 @aleatorio1234 @perfectlycoralsheep thank you for reading, I appreciate it so much :)

[crystlizabeth]

TwinDad!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley with his girls!

The twins are OC’s!

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

- dad!Simon who was left with his twin girls while his wife was at work.

- dad!Simon who had to tell Zhuri her mama will hurt him if he took down her hair because she wanted to wear it a different way.

“Zhuri you cant take your hair down love.”

She gave him a hard glare a glare that seemed a little familiar coming from her face, she was his after all. “Why not” she huffed her arms crossing looking up at her father with a dirty glare her hip popping out in a sassy manner.

He Tsked at his daughter his hand coming to his hip “Because your mother will hurt me.” He answered simply.

She uncrossed her arms dramatically her little foot stomping as she threw her head up, “but I d’ wanna wear pigtails daddy!” She huffed.

“Zhuri ila, drop the sass.” He spoke trying to sound stern but couldn’t help at the helpless kid.

-dad!Simon who honestly had no trouble with his other daughter with her hair but with her shoes…

-dad!Simon who had to comfort little Sa’diya as she cried because she couldn’t tie her shoes laces now but could do it when her mommy was home.

“Sy sweetheart let me help you..” Simon said crouching down next to the little girl who wiped her teary eyes.

She shook her head, “Nuh uh I can do it! Mama show me yesterday.” She snuffled her little lip quivering.

Simon who hated seeing her this so he talked her through tying her lace Sa’diya telling him she knew what she’s doing every time he point a to her shoe.

-dad!simon who deals with his hellion Zhuri as she tries to start a WWE match with him as he helps her twin sister. But it end with the girls getting at eachother.

“Stop it Zhuri!”

“Your not the boss of me ‘Diya!” Zhuri shouted hanging on her father trying to pull him back.

“Did you brush your teeth I can smell your breath from here smelly.” Sa’diya said glaring at her sister.

Zhuri responding by blowing a raspberry at her.

-dad!Simon who thought okay maybe breakfast will be easier wrong. leaving them to eat as he collected their school bags the twins began to argue again.

-dad!Simon watch Zhuri show her sister her chewed food and Diya threading to throw her scrambled eggs at her and ruin her hot pink hello kitty shirt.

“You wont.” Zhuri said.

“Bet I will.” Sa’diya replied.

“You wouldn’t.” Zhuri dragged on.

Simon watched as the oldest twin grab some of her eggs in her hand getting ready to throw it as her sister “Sa’Diya Jovonnie. Put. The. Eggs. Down.” Simon spoke sternly from the kitchen counter, knowing if he let this go on he would be cleaning up egg and have a crying child because her favorite shirt had egg on it.

He watch as she dropped the egg back on her plate glaring at Zhuri who sat across from her with a cheeky grin on her face. “Listen ya little shit keep at that with ya sister imma let her have it at ya.” Simon spoke out knowing Zhuri was taunting her sister.

“What! I’m not doin anything daddy!” Zhuri protested turning around in her chair a grin still plastered on her face her little dimples popping out.

He hummed in response.

-dad!Simon who finally got them him his truck in their booster seats. The girls for once this morning not arguing but talking about a little art project they had.

-dad!Simon who had to walk his girls to their class because no is never an option with them. Carrying both pink and purple backpack on his shoulders his hands being held by the two girls at the walk him to the front of the school.

-dad!simon who watches Zhuri look up at him telling him to stop before they get all the way up knowing how he is with his face.

“Daddy if you want your mask you can put it on.” She whispered smiling at her father.

“It will be alright darlin’ it doesn’t bother me like that love im with you two alright.” He smiled lightly at the girl pulling her into a small hug in his crouched down position.

Simon giving her a kiss on the side of her face causing a fit of giggles.

-dad!simon who knew this was not ‘Diyas favorite place once he got to her classroom he little hand griping on to her father’s jacket.

-dad!simon who watched her eyes fill with tears because she did want to be here.

“Do I have to go in..” she mumbled.

Simons hand who tilted her head up looking down at her with a reassuring expression “it’s alright love, I promise. I’ll be here to pick you up this afternoon as well,”

She nodded lightly “will mommy be with you?” She asked. Sy was a mamas girl for sure not that she didn’t want Simon around but Zhuri was the same way with him. He leaned down kissing her forehead “that’s from yer’ mama she loves you lots and we’ll see her tomorrow morning okay luv?” He spoke softly.

A small sniffle and she nodded “you got this Sy, your strong, confident girl, you can do it right.” He said still looking down at her little brown eyes her lashes wet from tears.

“I can do this, I’m strong and confident.” She said. Simon chuckled.

“Atta girl.” He kissed her head once more watching her as she walked into her classroom.

-dad!simon who now had to deal with his hellion and her teacher who liked him. But Zhuri always shut her down.

“Why are you talking like that to my daddy?” Zhuri crossed her arm’s sassily looking at her teacher who had started lightly flirting with Simon.

“My daddy doesn’t like other girls besides my momma, and me obviously.” She grinned.

Her teacher got quiet but let Zhuri know that she should say goodbye to her daddy, Zhuri who gladly tackled her father hugging his torso Simon who laughed picking her up “you’ll get points from your mama with that one.” He chuckled kissed Zhuris cheeks setting her back down.

“Bye Daddy!”

“Bye ya hellion don’t cause trouble.” He said.

“Cant promise anything!” She grinned.

-dad!Simon who always come back to the thought that he would never have children or family but now he stood here with his girls. Learning to do their hair. What foods they like and dislike. Going through a phase where he would call them each others names to the point they started playing tricks on him on who’s who. Now he sat at gymnastic meets, softball games and whatever those girls wanted to do may it be soccer, basketball ball, swim. Simon was right there, he would sit with them playing tea party and doctor. He would let the girls color in his sleeve when he needed them quite.

-dad!Simon who when her first held them his whole world lit up. And he knew that he would do anything for them. He would kill for them.

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

[myokk]

fast sketch of my one-shot with Ominis💓

legilimency

Word count: 1.700

Rating: M (language)

Ominis Gaunt is a lost case - lost to the whims of one very determined Gryffindor sitting at his side.

They sit in the back of the History of Magic classroom, the only two students not lulled to somnolence by their professor. He: trying his hardest to focus on Professor Binns’ droning (easier said than done). She: trying her hardest to distract Ominis while not being entirely sure of being successful or not (easier attempted than understood).

Professor Binns is completely insufferable, of course. Ominis wonders if the ghost is as blind as he is: Binns willfully ignores the fact that all of his students use his class as an excuse to get a nap in (maybe he simply doesn’t see them sleeping - only one of many reasons why Ominis has decided he could never be a professor), rambling on and on in the most boring way possible. As if he were trying to be as dull as possible (maybe he does it to avoid interacting with the students which…can’t be to blame). In a different life, Ominis could see himself quite liking the subject, but as things stand he despises it.

Especially now.

Ominis fervently wishes that he could fall asleep.

Then, he might avoid hearing her thoughts - they’re consuming him and he can’t ignore them as much as he would like to.

Normally, he loves this class - not the subject, obviously - but the class itself, for the sheer fact that it is the only time where he gets some peace and quiet. Everyone’s minds nice and quiet and shut off for the time being while they sleep. Although he has gotten used to ignoring the thoughts of everyone around him, their various voices mixing and mingling with each other into a dull thrum in the back of his mind, it is nice to have some quiet once in a while.

But right now, with everyone asleep except for the Gryffindor at his side, her thoughts are so loud it’s like she’s screaming at him.

So here he is, wishing he could fall asleep, leave the class, maybe turn off the infernal legilimency that has haunted him his whole life.

(His parents and Marvolo insist it’s a gift handed down from Slytherin himself, just like the Parseltongue Ominis despises. It is not. It is a curse.)

He is stuck listening to her.

It doesn’t help that she seems to have caught on to him - something he had managed to avoid until now. Nobody else, not even Sebastian or Anne, has ever suspected a thing. But, in all fairness, those two are extremely loud and say every single thought that passes through their minds out loud even when they should remain quiet, and nobody else has had the opportunity to spend enough time with Ominis to begin to suspect anything.

Until her.

He had to go and let that blasted girl worm her way into his life, not leaving him alone ever, always looking for excuses to talk and ask his opinion, and being so intelligent that he wanted to invite her to study with him and talk with him and…

Since it happened a few nights ago, he hasn’t stopped cursing himself for that stupid offhand comment he made. They had been studying in silence in the library together, by the history books where nobody else ever ventures (thank you, Professor Binns), and he could have sworn that she asked him if he was finally going to walk her back to her common room (he blames a lack of sleep and wishful thinking for this mishap). His traitorous face had flushed and he had jumped at the chance to escort her - maybe she would let him carry her bag, or… - only to feel his whole body go cold and his stomach drop when her response wasn’t what he’d expected.

A pause: then: a confused voice: ‘Ominis, I didn’t say anything.’

His Gryffindor wasn’t stupid like Gryffindors were normally wont to be. He knew her, and he knew that after his monumental mistake, the gears in her brain were turning and he was terrified that somehow she had figured it out.

(His Gryffindor?)

She had been unusually quiet around him since then, although he bitterly noticed that she was still acting normally with everyone else. Still finding every opportunity to punch Sebastian in the shoulder and laugh with Anne, still whispering with Natsai about Merlin knows what, still…

But she had been avoiding Ominis. He couldn’t stand it.

Well, avoiding him right until this stupid class, when she had to go and sit right next to him (ignoring the fact that she always sits next to him in History of Magic, that everyone already has and adheres to their unofficial seats), and he can’t ignore her.

She’s pretending to take studious notes, but he knows better. The scratching of her quill blending with the droning of Professor Binns’ voice but not drowning out her thoughts. They float above the other noises, her voice sweet and piercing. Ominis wonders vaguely what she’s actually writing, because he’s positive it isn’t notes.

Professor Binns looks so sexy right now with his medieval hat, talking about…whatever it is he’s passionate about. I wonder if he would let me talk to him after class without floating through me like he normally does…

Ominis is determined not to react. She’s obviously trying to bait him. But…what if she is attracted to Professor Binns? Is he an attractive man? At the thought, the fist that’s resting on top of his desk clenches, but he works to make sure his face remains impassive. Apart from a twitch of his lips, he thinks he’s been quite successful.

She: huffing and shifting in her chair, her robes rustling as she crosses her legs. He: keeping his head facing forward, steadfastly ignoring her.

She changes tactics.

Maybe she’s just as insufferable as the other Gryffindors, after all.

I wonder what Ominis would say if he knew I woke up moaning today after a dream about him -

He shifts slightly in his seat, hoping that she’s so busy taking notes (who’s he kidding) that she won’t notice his discomfort as his trousers tighten -

…the girls in my dorm have been bothering me nonstop about who I’ve been mooning over but I don’t want them to…

His hand is in such a tight fist it’s a wonder he’s not breaking any fingers as he tries to remain as still as possible, but his traitorous arousal is making her thoughts harder and harder to ignore. Had he ever been able to ignore her?

…his tongue was deep inside me as I screamed his name…

He feels his face heat up at the thought - where had she learned such vulgar language? - and his whole body stiffens. He’s sure that she can feel the tension and warmth radiating off of him in waves but that…she…his insane little lion keeps shouting at him in the silence of the classroom. She’s now stopped all pretense of taking notes and is sitting stock still.

…his cock deep inside of me as…wait…what else did I hear Garreth say to Leander that night?…um… She shifts uncomfortably, her knee grazing Ominis’s as she moves to squeeze her legs together. It’s all he can do to not groan and remain impassive. Oh god…I…what’s that feeling? This was just supposed to get back at him for probably - maybe - reading my thoughts and I’m officially insane because how would he even be able to do that?…his ears turning red from embarrassment are so adorable and I can’t stand this anymore and…

Ominis tries his hardest not to move his head in her direction. His jaw flexes. Maybe he can drown her out if he starts reciting potions ingredients, or if he focuses on what Professor Binns is saying, but even he knows its futile. He’s hanging on to her every word - thought? - and his head slowly turns in her direction as she keeps going.

…does he know how much I think about him? Oh god, what if he dreams of me the same way I…

He slams the open book in front of him shut, the loud noise causing Sebastian to jerk awake and babble incoherently for a moment before slumping back over his desk, drooling and snoring lightly. Nobody else in the class seems to notice except her of course. Blissfully, she has stopped talking - thinking - and he can finally -

It’s no use. He needs to get out of there. She has invaded his mind and…What if she starts up again with her filthy thoughts that are bleeding into his own and -

Did he hear me? I didn’t actually think…oh god, can he hear me now? What have I done?

Ominis very slowly brings his hand over to where he knows hers is. The quill falls out of her hand and he hears a sharp intake of breath at their contact. His fingers trace her knuckles and then he slowly trails them up her arm. His fingertips are so sensitive that he could swear that he feels every thread that he passes, her skin warm and alive underneath the fabric. Then to her neck, her throat bobs and he feels her erratic heartbeat. Finally, he reaches her face. She remains very, very still as his fingers brush over her features for the first time.

He has never touched someone like this before.

Her skin is like velvet, soft everywhere he touches. Now that he knows what it feels like he’s not sure he can go back to before. His fingers trace the curve of her eyebrows - he finds that her nose is straight before it flares up a tiny bit at the tip - his fingers ghost over her impossibly soft lips. He drags his thumb across her bottom lip as her tongue darts out to wet them. It’s impossibly intimate and the world has melted away and it’s just the two of them in that moment.

He leans forward.

“Ominis, I…” she whispers, stricken.

His hand moves to tuck some of her loose hair away from her face - does she always wear it like this? - and his lips brush against her ear. He inhales deeply, her sweet smell invading his senses. She shivers under his touch and he breathes, “I heard everything.”

[cookiesandcrumbs]

To anyone who is thinking, “man I wish I could create cc”

Short answer: You can.

Long answer: It’s going to be an uphill battle of a learning process. For some people the hill will be like a mountain and for others it might be more of a bump. The process is still the same.

What I need people to understand when it comes to creating cc is that, your first mesh edit, it’s going to be Trash™. I know it, you know it, we all, Know it. See the thing is, if you go in to something like this with the mindset of “I need this done yesteryear and it needs to be PERFECT”, whew are you in for ride. It wont be. You can’t go in expecting it to be good, or even decent! No one is good at things the first time they try it. And if they say they are, they’re probably lying lmao.

My process was, my mija @moontrait helped me get in to simple mesh editing and when she wasn’t around to answer my questions, I would poke at blender and reading tutorials on my own. Let me tell you. It was Trash™. I don’t even have the first mesh edits I started anymore, I knew that they we’re ruined beyond repair. It would’ve been faster to redo the edits after I had learned more about blender.

I wrote above sometime in 2020. And now, 4 years later, my cc still isn't perfect but its okay! I'm proud of many of the things Ive created. I just make things to have something to do and to share it all for free. And i have learned a lot and i want others to learn too! The best thing you can do is to make small simple edits. Not for use, but just to make Something. Literally just take a skirt or a top and chop it off. You don't even have to finish the item, it doesn't have to have lods or even swatches. Just by simply opening meshes in blender and poking at it and testing shortcuts and things, you’ll learn. That’s what i did. I have so many small tips and tricks, some i posted here. I by no means know everything, in fact, i know VERY little. There are things about blender i legitimately *i pretend i do not see it* because i’m scared of it lol. For questions about cc you can nicely ask over at @thefoxburyinstitute or check out this post about my cc help desk! I also made a poll about cc making that’s got a little less than 2 days left on it lol.

So yeah. You CAN learn to make that One Specific Thing you want in your game, but you need to learn the basics first. It will help you in the long run. Trust me. I’ve had some experience teaching people how to make simple edits throughout the years and it’s always difficult when they’re Set on a specific end result and won’t listen to my advice. Please listen to my advice lol.

I wish you all the luck! ✨

[lvndrptchwrk]

Inarizaki team reacting to a ballerina s/o please. Like the had practice earlier and came late to their game, and they had to throw a sweater over their ballet attire to watch them play.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : kita, suna, atsumu, osamu, aran x gn! ballerina! reader

((i really liked the idea of them reacting to you arriving right in the middle of their game while wearing the ballet attire so literally all of them react to that happening, as well as some other headcanons ! i hope i did them all justice ! also excuse how late this was, i literally was fighting for my life trying to write this lmao))

┏━━━ ━━━┓

Kita Shinsuke

♪ always does his best to attend your recitals and watches you practice.

♪ if he cant attend, he'll always try to get a recording or meet you afterwards with a bouquet of flowers for your hard work.

♪ ensures you properly stretch and maintain a healthy diet, often meal preps for the both of you so he knows you'll eat.

♪ takes the time to research ballet techniques and moves so he can try to understand what moves you do when you dance and if you need practice on any dances

♪ secretly enjoys it when you come to watch him practice but worries when you arrive in ballet attire because he knows you're tired

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

The game had just reached a technical time out with Inarizaki reaching 16 points in the first set. The team had gotten off the court for a water break, but Kita had noticed you watching them.

He always seemed to notice the littlest of things. He jogged over to the barricade, drying his face. "You made it." He commented, giving you a big smile. "Of course, you know I'm always going to try and watch all your games." You say, and he finally notices your attire.

"Did you just come from practice?" He asks, and you can sense the lecture about heading home to properly change and taking time for yourself before going to watch his games coming, but luckily you were spared as Atsumu called him back over. "Good luck out there Shinsuke." You waved him off, but he refused to leave you without a quick hug.

The smell of his cologne lingered, and you finally got the chance to relax while you watched Inarizaki play and win the match. When they finished, Kita jogged back over to you with a smile on his face. "I thought you wouldve gone home and changed. That seems uncomfortable to wear." He notes, watching you shuffle in your spot.

" Well, I wont just pass on the opportunity to watch your game! You did amazing today, by the way. Now, we can both go home and unwind from today." You pointed out, and he sighed. The idea of walking you home and possibly unwinding with you, relaxing on the couch with a movie on after a long day seemed very appealing to him.

"Alright, let me grab my things and we can go home together."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Suna Rintaro

♪ has some of the songs you practice to saved so he can listen to it and imagine you dancing

♪ was he roped into being your practice partner because of his flexibility? yes.

♪ has several recordings of your practices and recitals and watches them when he misses you

♪ is guilty of ditching practice a couple times (but never any actual games) to watch you dance

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

It was one of those days where Suna just had to practice. Preliminaries were coming up and fast, and as much as he'd love to watch your graceful figure dance, he'd have to do that another day.

Thankfully though, you had other plans. Finishing your practice early had allowed you to finally watch him practice, and not the other way around. You never minded him watching you, your dance mates loved having him around, it just wasn't often that you got to see him practice and you were taking the chance.

You had reached the gym he was at, where he was in the middle of a practice match against another school. You stood by the doors, simply opting to watch while wearing your ballet attire and his hoodie. Just as the other team had called for a break, he looked over at you, and his whole face lit up.

He dashed over to you and engulfed you with a hug, hiding his face in your shoulder. "Thank god, these idiots were about to start driving me crazy." He whispered, and you let out a laugh as you hugged him back.

"Well practice finished a bit early for me so I figured I'd watch you practice for a change." You told him, and he eyed your outfit. "You should change, isn't that uncomfortable?" He asked, and you shrugged. "Nah, I'll just change after you finish practice for the day."

Before he could say anything else, Atsumu called him back. He gave you a quick hug before returning to the game, and you watched as he played intensely. It's almost like he was showing off. After the game, he practically ran to the lockers to grab his things, and was at your side in minutes.

"Let's go home and eat some jelly sticks, we deserve a treat today."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Miya Atsumu

♪ is your biggest supporter aside from your family, and definitely had missed a couple of practices to watch your recitals or practices.

♪ always comes with a sweet treat for you to enjoy afterwards, even if its not the best option.

♪ does his best to help you practice and stretch, uses that as an excuse to hold you tbh

♪ is always in awe about your balance and mobility, has picked up a few moves that improved his volleyball performance

♪ always coming handy with a comfy change of clothes or ice packs just in case!

♪ has a 6th sense for spotting you in the crowd, no matter what the situation is

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

He silenced the audience once more as he went to serve. His ability to practically mute the entire stadium for his serve still astounded you to this day. You watched as he performed another service ace, the crowd going wild.

It'd be rather rude if you tried to call for his attention while he was concentrated, and you were willing to watch him play.

That thought flew out the window when Atsumu whipped his head to smile and wave at you before his next serve. You jolted and waved back, wondering how he managed to see you. None of his other teammates were looking, and you started to think that he had a radar for your presence. You wouldnt be surprised if he did, considering he was somehow always aware of his brother as well.

After winning the game, he bounced over with a huge smile on his face. "Ya saw me win right?! When my serves practically knocked them over?! And ya saw mah sets to Samu and Aran?! And-" He rambled on about his game, as if you werent there watching. He finally stopped to take a drink, and noticed your attire.

"Wait, did you come straight from practice?! Ya shouldve gone home and changed first, and wait- is that mah hoodie?!" He exclaimed, turning red at the fact you had worn his hoodie. You smiled and just gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Well, of course I came right after practice. I'd never miss the chance to see you win Atsumu." You commented, wiping the sweat off his forehead with your sleeve. He grew bashful at that, trying to stutter out a response.

"C'mon blondie. Go meet back up with your team so we can go home."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Miya Osamu

♪ listens to your dancing playlist while he cooks!

♪ like atsumu, he brings you food after your practices and recitals (he usually cooks it!)

♪ very particular about ensuring you eat and will probably spend time preparing all your meals

♪ really enjoys it when you also watch him practice and come to his games, tries to hear your voice in the crowd

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

The game was practically over by the time you arrived. Inarizaki had the game in the bag, with a 7 point difference. Osamu had his head in the game, but no amount of concentration could make him miss the sound of your voice, cheering him on. Atsumu had taken notice and teasingly said, "Looks like yer special audience is here." The silver haired boy looked over to see you, in a hoodie over your ballet attire and a big smile on your face as you cheered for him.

Well damn, now he has the need to show off to impress you. Good thing he's already pretty good at that.

He spent the rest of the game doing just a bit more than usual and trying to be cool, which of course had you looking and laughing for the couple of goofs he did. After the game, he came over to you and rested his forehead on yours. "Hey, didja see me?" He asked, a bit too eagerly.

"Of course I did, couldn't take my eyes off of you when you show off like that, ya dork." You chuckled, cupping his face and watching him turn red. You could see Atsumu and Suna laughing at his embarassed state, with Kita and Aran trying to hide the fact they were also laughing. Dorks, all of them.

"C'mon 'Samu. You're sweaty and my muscles ache. Let's get some food, yeah?"

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Ojiro Aran

♪ i feel like he took a couple of ballet lessons as a kid, so he knows a bit about some moves and helps you practice!

♪ this man would also give great foot rubs (i mean this in a non sexual way, hes just very caring)

♪ would gift you with ballet accessories to ensure you are as comfortable as you can be while dancing

♪ definitely tried to hide you from the rest of the team, along with his ballet past, but failed when you kept showing up to practice in ballet attire

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

To be frank, Ojiro was sweating. And not from practice. You see, Ojiro Aran is a very private person.

Sort of.

He's the straight man of the team, always forced into weird antics that makes him question his sanity. Truly, he wonders if he joined the circus instead of a volleyball team with how they act at times. It's partially the reason why he never tells him about his own personal life outside of volleyball. That, and they never ask.

You were one of those unspoken topics of his life. Don't get him wrong, he adored and loved you! But oh god if the others found out about you, the questions would be never-ending. And he already deals with so much from them.

So seeing you sitting with his coaches on the bench while he was playing had spiked his heart rate. Especially when he hears Atsumu say, "Who's the cutie sitting with the coaches?" The entire team takes a glance over at you, who just waves excitedly at Aran. The ace takes note of his hoodie covering your ballet attire, and suppresses the urge to stop and admire you. He can do that after he wins the practice match. But for now he needs to make sure that no one else tries to talk to you or hit on you.

He practically bowls over the twins as he makes his way to you after the match. "Hey beautiful love of my life partner whomst I love! Let me go and grab my things so we can leave!" He says a bit too loudly, making the others stop and stare at the two of you. His face was red, both from practice and him processing what he'd said, but it made you laugh. And as long as the others knew that you were his, he didn't mind the others knowing a bit more about him. The smile on your face as you got up to hold his hand was worth it.

"Sure, 'Jiro. Here's your water. You did very good today, ace. Now let's leave before the others start questionin' us, yeah?"

┗━━━ ━━━┛

[redr0sewrites]

Blade x reader General Headcanons (sfw + nsfw)

*gently hands this to you and then scuttles away like a large cockroach* not proofread so yea <\\\3 u can tell i have a blade bias <3

🥀CW: a little angst, blade is Bad At Feelings ™️, reader is sorta assumed to be a stellaron hunter, dom/sub dynamics in the nsfw, switch!blade, knife kink/pain kink, just filth tbh

🥀 minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw!

we all know bladie is RIDICULOUSLY emotionally constipated- if he likes you, he is in COMPLETE AND UTTER DENIAL

he will be staring into ur soul like he hates ur guts but the whole time his heart is pounding out of his chest

he has a very stoic face, it takes a while for u to learn to read him 😭

tbh ud prob think that he hates u for a while cuz he just stares at u

once u both get over the initial awkwardness of him constantly looming over u and hovering around u and staring at u, and once u realized that no, hes not creepy or insane he just wants to be around u, u guys would probably become close friends pretty quickly!

i dont think hes the type to jump into a relationship, his commitment issues get in the way

u would DEF have to be friends first, but he would still be enamoured with u

very observant, he notices all of the little things u do

one of the very first things that tips u off to the fact that he has romantic feelings towards u would probably simply be the fact that he literally cares SO MUCH about ur life and routine

hes memorized ur schedule, how u make ur coffee/tea, what ur favorite movies and shows are, he can tell when ur sad or stressed, he just finds comfort in learning details about u

he prefers to listen in conversation rather than speak, he can listen to u for hours

if u like something or are interested in something, suddenly he is too and he wants to learn all about it

at this point all the other stellaron hunters are rooting for u two to get together

kafka would try to set u both up like all the time

shes never seen blade so devoted to someone

whenever u walk in the room, he always seems to light up a little in excitement

i honestly feel like he would confess first but only for the sake of kafka not telling u before he does💀

it would probably be after an especially tiring or exhausting mission, after the maras been making him feel shitty

blade always feels so safe around u and he would just suddenly blurt out the fact that hes in love with u

after the initial shock, when u tell him the feelings are reciprocated hes ECSTATIC

but wont show it

he'll just let out a small (but cute): smile and nod

kafka, sam, and silverwolf are in the background recording the whole thing 💀

hes awkward at first

SUCKS AT PHYSICAL CONTACT TBH

blade's love language is def acts of service

he loves doing things for you and he loves helping u, it makes him proud to know that he can help make u feel safe

will fucking destroy anyone who hurts u

like actually destroy

nobody had ever seen blade so angry or ruthless as the day u were hurt on a mission

afterwords hes cradling u in his arms, clinging to u like ur gonna disappear😭

he knows how fleeting mortal lives are and hes genuinely so afraid of losing u

hes not good at talking things out or expressing his feelings

hes also not great at apologizing but he will try for u and only for u

arguments with him kinda suck cuz he can be stubborn and doesn't understand emotions

blade would feel terrible afterwards tho

would probably sit next to u and just take ur hands in a silent apology and gently run his thumb in a soft circle on ur palm

he likes it when u wear his clothes, he can be possessive and seeing u in his (probably much larger) clothes makes him a little feral

overall, u guys have ur ups and downs, but are ultimately a power couple and he loves u sm what can i do to find me a blade smh

nsfw!

SWITCH ENERGY‼️

when hes dom, hes MEAN

blade can talk so filthy sometimes, his voice is so deep and rough and when hes got you folded in half, ruthlessly pounding into u theres nothing u love to hear more than his scornful voice switching from degradation to praise <3

into marking on both ends, he loves seeing u covered in hickeys and scratches but also enjoys being littered in stinging marks for him to admire later

i feel like blade would like positions where he can be close to u when hes dominant, such as mating press or missionary

SIZE KINK! if ur smaller thank him, he love love LOVES to use his larger stature and weight to pin u down

seeing u squirm and writhe helplessly beneath him turns him on

will pin ur wrists above ur head, leaning down to whisper the filthiest words in ur ear, the entire time his cock is thrusting so fast in and out of ur leaking hole, ur mind is melting to mush at the stimulation. on top of that, his free hand is roughly playing with ur cock/clit, while he nips and bites roughly at ur neck. its all so much, too much...

rahh i went off there for a sec

anyways <3

blade wouldn't understand the hype to exhibitionism until the both of u got together

the two of u r fucking in a storage closet while people outside r just continuing their everyday lives, his hand clamped roughly over ur mouth to silence u, but that doesnt stop his own breathy moans and growls from slipping through

i also think blade would have a knife kink, hed find sick, twisted pleasure in running a knife over ur soft skin as u squirm

hed never actually hurt u, he could never do that

u both def have a safeword

but the idea is still arousing

he isnt as vocal when dom when hes sub, when hes dom its more low growls and groans and moans while when hes sub its more moaning and whimpers and whines

when hes sub, hes so into pain

if u pull his hair, this man will immediately submit

HE HAS AN ORAL FIXATION IF U HAVE A COCK HE WOULD ADORE TO SPEND EVERY WAKING HOUR SUCKING ON IT. if ur exhausted and want to keep blade occupied (cuz his stamjna is INSANE), give him two of ur fingers to suck on<3

he just looks so pretty with ur fingers in his mouth, a small trickle of drool leaking past his parted lips as he stares up at u in utter adoration with lust filled eyes

blade is SO LOUD when u fuck him from behind, he doesnt know why he just finds it so hot

he also has a reverse size kink, someone as small as u taking control of him and using him for ur own pleasure is such a turn on

he has such insane stamina, he could have u fucking him for literal hours and still want more

esp when hes sub, there needs to be a lot of foreplay leading up to the actual sex or else he will be needy for like ever

is actually so touch starved its funny, when the two of u had ur first time where he was sub he came in under a minute

he was super embarrassed, even tho u found it super hot

blade can be a tease if he wants to be, sending u photos of him naked with his hand wrapped around his aching cock, eyes blown wide with lust<3

he thinks punishments are hot, but prefers to be praised and pampered

call him a good boy, he will MELT

he wants to be good for u so much, he needs u to get himself off its almost pathetic :( he cant cum without u there helping him, whenever hes needy and ur not around he always ends up in a puddle of his own arousal, his release slipping away as soon as it begins to build. his cock is aching, he needs u, he cant even get off alone

after sex is when hes most vulnerable, blade is very kinky and mellow after sex esp when he was sub

big on aftercare, deep down he wants to be taken care of and held

he also loves taking care of u, loves washing u as u bathe together after a rough night of lovemaking

he loves it when u mark his chest cuz he can show it off the next day

blade wants everyone to know ur his, and vice versa

THIS GOT SO LONG WTF???

BARK BARK BARK can u tell i have such a big fat stupid fucking blade bias hes so silly i love this goofy man sm i need to pepper him with kisses and then fuck him senseless 😔