#step right up! step right up! we have it all!

[hedgehog-moss]

In my neverending quest to keep Pampérigouste from achieving her dreams, I have launched a formal investigation into her last escape, which I had no explanations for at the time.

I figured it out! At the far far end of her pasture, near the road, a few fence posts have become more or less horizontal (the ground is quite wet / muddy there so they've never been very stable, especially with Pirlouit using them to scratch his forehead)—so instead of a high jump + long jump combo to get to the road, Pampe just had to clear the long jump over the ditch. Which is still impressive.

I also suspect that she chose to escape from this place near the road on a snowy morning as a deliberate strategy, knowing the snow plough would erase any traces of her jump, thus preventing me from discovering where the weak spot in the fence was. Well done.

You need 2 people to fix these fence posts so in the meantime I decided to kill two birds with one stone: cut all the broom and thorny bushes in this corner of the pasture and use them to form a discouraging barrier. I set to work earlier this week, and here's the same place as above, mid-process:

When I texted my mum to tell her about my new thorn-based anti-Pampe plan of action, she said "Like the Maasai who make fences with thorny acacia branches to keep out lions!" and it made me feel even more confident. I mean, I have neither acacia nor Maasai fencing techniques but my thorny shrubs are pretty aggressive, they pricked my fingers even through my thick work gloves—which felt satisfying in an anticipatory way. Excellent! prick Pampe's nose exactly like this. How could a llama not be deterred by a fence material that deters apex predators?

Vexingly enough, she seemed quite supportive of my efforts. At one point she breathed some warm air against my shoulder in a gentle, patronising way.

We were engaged in psychological warfare all afternoon—every time I stepped away from my vegetal fence, feeling like it was now good enough, Pampe would immediately come to inspect it, cheerful and impatient, which sapped my confidence so I would go and add a few more shrubs. (Note that I sort of plaited the first / biggest shrubs with the pre-existing fence so they don't go flying on the road, and so Pampe can't just push them aside.)

On the right: Poldine, looking for little fresh leaves to eat amidst the chaos. On the left: Pampérigouste, thinking.

(At this point the barrier was only 20% thorns, and 80% broom—the fact that she waded through it without a care and didn't prick her belly made me go and add more thorny shrubs, and pack them more densely)

It's kind of fun watching Pampe think, honestly. Can I jump over this? Do I have enough visibility? Can I eat my way to freedom (again)? But these shrubs are disgusting. Am I above exploiting my daughter's lack of culinary discernment to achieve my goals? Maybe I should go back to my calculations re: probability of wild boar destruction. I may have pincushions for hands after handling prickly bushes for two hours but I'm helping stimulate my llama's intellect and creativity and that's so important.

I tried to alternate broom and thorny branches so that the non-thorny broom became tangled up with thorns and brambles to form an impenetrable and incomprehensible wall. I will call it this method the salmagundi-fence.

Poldine is in awe of my vegetal installation.

Can I just say, compared to Pampérigouste who constantly has a devilish glint in her eye, Pampelune's face exudes wholesome politeness and moral goodness. It's still hard to believe they're mother and daughter.

I went home once my fence started looking like Maleficent's forest of thorns and Pampe had long stopped trying to wade through it, but I still felt antsy and ended up coming back one hour later to have my apéritif with the llamas so I could keep an eye on Pampe until nightfall.

... where is Pampe?

Oh. Here. No worries!

Still staring at the road. Still thinking.

...

With all that said, please admire my beautifully delirious Forest of Thorns-fence and let me know what you think.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

My brain is on fire same I can’t sleep and am thinking of this:

The way she writes about marriage/family/commitment through these different situations across the album is soooooooooo interesting.

You have a very intense first experience of it in “The Manuscript,” where it is first dangled in front of her/the narrator’s young, impressionable self as shorthand for real love in a situation that ended up being smoke and mirrors. She’s being told everything she wants to hear by someone who basically thinks it’s just foreplay. In the end, when it’s clear that the other person has no intention of actually making a life with her, it makes her feel used, but she forces herself to recalibrate and become the girl she thinks he and all the other hes want her to be. Easy breezy cool. But there’s a sense of loss in realizing those hopes were merely banter to the other.

You have the “grown up” version of it alluded to in “So Long, London” and “How Did It End?”, the years of putting in work to save a relationship and the “deflation of our dreaming leaving [her] bereft and reeling” leading to them “calling it all off.” The implication is clearly that they built a home together with plans for next steps at a point in time, but the commitment is shattered. (Obviously to me it sounds like marriage.) She’s bitter at spending her “prime” years with someone who ultimately didn’t want to be there, even if he couldn’t or wouldn’t admit it himself.

She felt like she did everything she was supposed to, but they were learning the right steps to different dances at as it were. Those dreams were at one point shared, but in the end they weren’t right for each other and she admits that, though bitterly (“I founded the club she’s heard great things about” eg the years she put in for him to help him grow up will end up benefiting his new lover, “but I’m not the one,” “you’ll find someone,” etc.). Mixed in with all this of her resentment of him wasting her youth (sacrificing herself at the altar), and his resentment of her for reasons less defined, and insinuations of betrayal in the shadows. The fantasy of the whole package disappears into the ether, yet she still has no answers as to how they got there.

Then in comes the wolf in sheep’s clothing in many of the rest of the songs, the one who promises her all those things she’s dreamed of since she was a kid instantly. After years of moulding herself to other men’s desires, someone comes in and tells her exactly what she wants to hear at the most vulnerable time of her life, as though the universe is answering her prayers, like some sort of cosmic payback for all she’s suffered, and it’s the most intoxicating drug of all. She’s gone from her wish for a family life feeling like she’s in a way being used for her body, to it being used as a chain to a relationship gone sour, to having someone put a metaphorical ring on her finger and tell her he wants to have babies with her, fuck those other guys.

In her grief and stupor, it’s too good to be true, which is exactly why she falls for it. But of course, it’s all an illusion, because this wolf is an amalgamation of the worst of all the men who came before him. He tells her everything she wants to hear not to make her dreams come true, but to make his. He takes the worst parts of these scenarios to make his move: he’ll stand by her, he’ll commit, he’ll do it out in the open under the spotlight’s glare (all things desperately lacking in her last relationship), but after he beds her he stabs her in the back in private and leaves her. He got what he wanted at the expense of her losing everything she wanted, this time as her world caved in seemingly for good. She feels like she gave up everything she thought she might have had for a chance that this is where the universe has been point her all along, only to be left broken for good (you represent the loss of my life as I knew it).

Then there are two sort of codas to this. In “But Daddy I Love Him” we get a sassier reimagining of “Love Story,” where the girl with the scarlet letter is mouthy and crass and tells everyone to go fuck themselves for cursing her in the first place, choosing her love above all else. And no, those haters can’t come to her wedding. Her daddy may have come around, but they sure can’t. Finally it seems someone is choosing her and will someday give her these things, and she’ll be able to show all the naysayers. (Also interestingly one of the more fictionally-veiled songs which ends happily vs the diaristic ones that don’t.)

Then of course there’s “So High School,” our first glimpse into what the future holds. Probably the only unabashedly happy (nay… electric?) song on the album, it’s all about reclaiming the buzz of youth (which is a whole other post) with a new lover. “Are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me? It’s just a game but really, I’m betting on all three for us two.” It’s, er, a direct nod to a certain now-infamous interview, but again, she’s staking her claim on her future, if not certain then at least hopeful again. This time the prospect doesn’t come with a “but.” It’s not, we’ll be pushing strollers but actually you’re too young. It’s not, we had these dreams for our future but actually I can’t move forward. It’s not, I’m going to promise you a ring and a baby but only until my needs are met and then I’m out. It’s, I know what I wanted and I’m not leaving, and thanks to that now she stays too.

The album dealt with the theme not at all in the way I expected, but is absolutely fascinating.

[nina-ya]

Can I request Zoro, Kid, and Law (separately) where their respective crew are going to like (whether it be for a mission or just for fun), a fancy event where they need to dress up, and the dress is like dressed up, and is so pretty, that the boys can’t resist and doesn’t stop kissing them? Idk, I thought it’d be cute and I love needy men who are so in love with their partner lol

One Piece Men Being Needy (Zoro, Kid, and Law)

Pairings: Zoro x reader, Kid x reader, Law x reader (all separate) CW: Suggestive content. A lot of implied sex. Just,,,... i fear i wrote this with nothing but sinful thoughts in mind HAHADJK WC: ~1.9k total A/N: I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO GET TO THIS BUT I AM HERE HI!! This was on my mind for much longer than i would ever admit so anon i greatly thank you for letting me write about them in this context hugs and kisses to you <3

You never expected such a simple choice in attire to stir such a reaction from Zoro. His intense gaze did not leave you the moment you stepped foot off the ship, dressed to the nines for the banquet. 

Throughout the evening, Zoro could not keep his hands off of you. Whether it was a firm grasp on your waist, pulling you close to his side, or a sly touch under the table, he seemed off tonight. And the kisses, oh, the kisses were something else. More frequent than usual, each one leaving you wanting more.

What really caught you off guard was when he pulled you onto his lap, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. 

“Zoro,” you whispered, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you felt his own lips planting kisses along your exposed neck and shoulder, “what’s gotten into you tonight?”

He smiled against your skin, his arms tightening around your waist as he murmured back, “Just couldn’t resist.”

You tilted your head to make eye contact with him, “Well, I’m not complaining,” you teased, reaching up to briefly run your hand through his hair. 

Zoro’s smile widened at your playful response, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart flutter just as fast as the day you first met him. “Glad to hear it,” he said, leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. The two of you were lost in your own little world, focusing on the feeling of your lips against each other as the banquet faded in the background. 

But moments like these can’t last forever, and your attention was pulled to a familiar voice calling your names. You glanced over to see Nami approaching, a sly smile on her face as she caught the sight of the two of you. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. "Sucking each other's faces off, are we?"

You and Zoro quickly pulled apart, though the warmth of his embrace lingered on your skin. "Nami!" you exclaimed, feeling a rush of embarrassment heat up your cheeks.

Zoro just grunted in response, avoiding eye contact with Nami. If you looked closely, you could point out the smallest hint of redness creeping up onto his cheeks.

Nami chuckled at your reaction, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease you both. "It’s not like you’re really hiding it well," she said with a laugh before turning to head back to the dance floor. 

You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed at Nami’s teasing, letting out a nervous laugh as she walked away. Zoro seemed amused by the whole situation, and went right back to planting kisses down your neck. His trail of kisses made their way up to your ear when he muttered into your ear, “She’s right. We are kind of making this obvious. Why don’t we cut this short and head back to the ship?” - - -

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when the door behind you swung open, pulling you out of your concentration. You shifted your attention in the mirror to see Kid standing in the doorway, dressed in a more formal attire for the night's events. 

He strolled into the room, walking up behind you snaking his arms around your waist as he admired you through the mirror. “You look gorgeous.” He commented, planting a kiss against your temple. He looked down and his eyes focused on the lipstick in your hand and a smirk played on his lips. “Is that mine?” he asked.

You hummed in response as you cleaned up one of the edges. “This looked like the perfect shade,” you pulled back from the mirror and tilted your head to admire your makeup, “and it seems like I was right.” 

Kid's smirk widened as he watched you, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, I suppose you have good taste," he teased, reaching out to take the lipstick from your hand. "But you know the rules, sweetheart. You gotta pay a price to borrow that."

Before you could protest, Kid leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. His lips were warm against yours, but just as quickly as it began, Kid pulled back, a smirk spreading across his face as you both took in the sight of your lipstick smeared at the edges.

You scolded Kid, lightly shoving his arm as you reached for your makeup remover. "You're going to make us late!" you exclaimed, though there was a hint of amusement in your voice as you dabbed at the smudged lipstick.

Kid chuckled, his arms still wrapped around your waist as he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, leaving another mark in the process. "Relax, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "We've got plenty of time."

As you worked to fix your makeup, Kid's hands roamed over your waist and shoulders, his touch light and affectionate as he trailed kisses along your neck, leaving more of a mess for you to clean up. "You know," he said, his voice low and husky, “you should dress like this more often. You look absolutely beautiful."

You couldn't help but enjoy the compliments he’s throwing your way along with the feeling of his large hands tracing your body, giving squeezes ever so often. "Are you trying to flatter me?" you teased, glancing at him through the mirror. 

You could feel Kid's lips curl into a playful smirk against your skin as he responded "Is it working?" he murmured, looking up to lock eyes with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "Because I have a proposition for you."

Your heart was already jumping out of your chest and yet it managed to beat just a bit faster as your curiosity heightened by his words. "Oh? And what might that be?" you asked, unable to hide the anticipation in your voice.

His hands trailed lower, fingers brushing over the curve of your hips as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "You know, we don't have to go to the event," he suggested, his voice laced with desire. "We don’t have to go out. We could stay right here. "

Excitement bubbled in your stomach at his suggestion. You placed down the items in your hand and turned around, draping your arms over his shoulders, leaning in., "And what exactly did you have in mind that we do?" you teased, your own voice lust laden.

“I have a few ideas in mind,” he murmured. With a sly grin, Kid's hands moved under your thighs, hoisting you up to sit on the counter behind you. He closed the distance between you two, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His lips moved hungrily against yours, leaving you absolutely breathless. He pulled your body against his and your hands threaded through his hair as you relished in the feelings. Yeah, you guys are not making it to that event. - - - Golden eyes fixated on you from across the room, the orbs drinking in every movement you made, every breath you took, every word you spoke as you effortlessly mingled with the other guests at the lavish gala that you had to attend for a mission. How was Law expected to focus when you looked utterly captivating? The moment you emerged from the cramped confines of the Polar Tangs’ bathroom, adorned in that breathtaking dress, he knew he was spellbound. The mission, albeit important, paled in comparison to the magnetic pull you seemed to have.

Gathering intelligence on the enemy crew’s whereabouts seemed a trivial task to Law compared to the challenge of tearing his gaze away from you. You charmed the guests around you, soft laughter spilling from your lips as you feign interest in their rather vacuous jokes. It all seemed so effortless to you. As if in a trance, Law found himself setting down his champagne glass on the nearest counter, his feet making unconscious strides drawing him in your direction. 

You stole a glance in his direction and noticed Law drawing nearer, seemingly with an urgent thought on his mind. The other guests, too, couldn’t help but notice his presence, their curiosity heightened by his sudden intrusion into your conversation.

“Excuse us for a moment,” Law simply said, his voice low, yet resolute as he grabbed your hand and led you away from the crowd. He offered a quick apology to the guests you were engaged in a conversation with, and you allowed yourself to be guided by him, confusion and anticipation filling you as you were whisked away.

He guided you with purpose, turning corner after corner until you reached a seemingly secluded area. You opened your mouth to speak, but before a single word could escape, his lips crashed against yours in an urgent kiss. His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss with such an intensity that you couldn’t even process what was going on. His lips were warm and insistent against yours, and you melted into his embrace.

Lost in the intoxicating feelings of the kiss, you forgot about the world around you, the mission being pushed in the depths of your mind as you are consumed by the sensation of Laws’s lips against yours. But just as quickly as it began, Law reluctantly pulled back, your ragged breaths mingling with each other as he gazed deeply into your eyes. “I just couldn’t resist,” he confessed, his voice filled with need, each word charged with an undeniable desire. “You look absolutely stunning tonight.” 

“Law,” you began, your words breathy as you recovered from the previous kiss, “the mission, we need to get back to- mph!” He silenced you with another kiss. The way his lips moved against yours threatened to consume you entirely before you lightly pushed on his chest to separate the two of you. 

“Don’t worry about the mission.” he muttered, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before continuing, “I’ve got the information we need.” His words were accompanied by the rapid thumping of his heart against your palm, mirroring the frantic beat of your own. “You look just so,” he started planting wet kisses down your neck as his hands danced down the sides of your body, pulling a small gasp from you as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. As his lips made their way back up to your ear, he finished his thought, “enchanting. You just look utterly enchanting, and I would like to  take advantage of this.” You could practically hear the smirk in his words while he guided you backwards until your back made contact with the wall behind you. Law was certainly going to make it clear that nothing else mattered in that moment except the two of you.

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Dress Up, Part 3: The Honeymoon✨

Who's ready for the honeymoon?? I've been dying to get this one out for y'all. Thank you all again for the incredible support on this fic, I absolutely love you all! Enjoy!!

I tried to make it as clear as possible who is speaking at any given time lol

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: The wedding is over and it's time for the honeymoon! And you have an interesting proposition for your new husband...

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, anal, multiple partners

As promised, Lucifer behaved himself for the rest of the reception. He was always very good at keeping his promises with you. Although, you had piqued his curiosity when you had mentioned the little "proposition" you had for him later in the evening. He was insatiable. And you loved it!

"C'mon love, at least give me a hint!" Lucifer begged while you were in between conversations with the hotel patrons. "Do you think it's fair to keep secrets from your husband?" He latched onto your waist and pressed a kiss to your cheek, a little laugh escaping your lips. "I'll just keep kissing you until you tell me!" Sure enough, he began to pepper small pecks across your face, finally forcing you to push him away gently.

"All good things to those who wait, Lucifer," you teased, taking his one hand and leading him towards the bar. "We just have to say goodbye to a few more people, okay? And you're one to talk! You still haven't told me where we're going for our honeymoon!"

He chuckled, bringing your hand up to his lips. "I'm the Devil, sweetheart; deception is in my job description, or so I've been told." You rolled your eyes playfully and made your way towards your new daughter-in-law.

"Charlie!" you greeted, bringing her into a warm embrace. "Thank you for this. You did an incredible job. This was everything I could have hoped for and more."

"Oh, there's no need to thank me!" Charlie beamed. "Everyone here worked super hard to make sure everything turned out perfect!"

"You're too modest, Charlie dear," Lucifer complimented. "Anything you touch turns out absolutely perfect. And I shouldn't expect anything less from my little girl!"

"Thanks, dad. I-I love you two so much!" Charlie's eyes started to well up with tears as she brought you both in for a hug. "Oh, dad! Did you tell her about the surprise?!"

Lucifer shook his head. "I haven't, but we're just about to head out right about...now!" With a snap of his fingers, a portal appeared behind the trio. You went to turn your head, but Lucifer used his hand to turn your face back towards him. "No peaking!" Without warning, you felt your legs give out beneath you as Lucifer scooped you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest and smiling down at you. “Thank you all for a wonderful day,” he called out to everyone. “It’s certainly one we’ll never forget. We’ll be back in a few days' time. PLEASE don’t burn the hotel down while we’re gone!” He turned around to face the portal and leaned down towards you. “Close your eyes for me,” he whispered against your ear. You did as he said and let your eyelids fall.

You felt the subtle jostling of Lucifer’s movement as he carried you through the portal. He only took a few more steps before he stopped completely. Wherever you were, you felt a slight breeze hit your skin. You guessed you must be outside somewhere. But Lucifer’s footsteps sounded like they were hitting tile flooring. Before you could try to rationalize further, you felt your husband’s lips graze your earlobe.

“You can open your eyes now,” he cooed.

Your eyes shot open; Lucifer’s grinning face was the first thing you saw as he finally set you back down on your feet. You were right about being outside. Kind of. You were on a balcony. The footsteps you heard earlier made sense now. But you saw something else that had completely caught your attention. The sky above you wasn't red. It was a deep blue. You turned to Lucifer in confusion. "Where are we?"

"Surprise!" he nearly shouted, gripping your hips and twirling you around before placing you back down. "Welcome to the Lust ring, my darling!"

You blinked at him a few times before looking back over the railing, smiling eagerly. "So, this is what you've been hiding from me?"

"It is," Lucifer said as he pulled you flush to his chest. "Do you remember how I said that you're no longer bound to the rules that govern sinners? This is part of that deal! You're free to travel anywhere as my Queen, and that includes the other six rings of Hell! Not that I would recommend most of them. But Asmodeus-"

"Wait, Asmodeus?" you questioned, "The Sin of Lust?"

"Yes! Although I usually just refer to him as Ozzie. He's one of the only Sins I get along with. But anyway, he's the one who put us up in this lovely room for the next few days. I told him I was getting married and well, he practically insisted on letting us use his Honeymoon Suite at the hotel he owns here. Told me I needed to 'put the room to good use'." Lucifer flashed a smug grin before leaning in to capture your lips. He picked you up once more and carried you over to the too- large heart-shaped bed, setting you down on the soft dark purple bed sheets. "So, my angel has a 'proposition' for me?"

Suddenly your cheeks felt burning hot. To be honest, you haven't given your own proposition much thought before this. But that week without any intimacy nearly drove you up the wall and your mind created scenarios that you had never even considered before. You regret mentioning it in the first place, but it was too late to turn back now. "W-Well, yes, I do...I mean, I did. I umm...it's..."

Lucifer laughed and sat himself down next to you, his hip connecting with yours. "Now what could possibly have you so tongue tied?" Lucifer teased as you looked away from him. "I've never seen you like this before. You don't have to be embarrassed, love! Whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it! I don't think there's anything you can suggest that would scare me away." He brought his hand under your chin and turned your head towards his wanting expression. "Please tell me!"

You sighed shakily. "And you won't freak out?"

"Now when have I ever freaked out?" You cocked an eyebrow at him. "Ok, fair point. I promise you that I won't freak out."

You inhaled a few short breaths before speaking. "Youcanduplicateyourselfright?" you blurted out without thinking, making Lucifer pause.

"Duplicate myself?" he repeated, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uhh, yeah I can. But what does that have to do with...o-oh...OH! UMM...S-SHIT! WOW I uhh...wasn't expecting that..."

"Hey, you said you wouldn't freak out!"

Lucifer shook his head rapidly. "Freaking out?? Who's freaking out?! Not me! Certainly not me! I'm cool, I'm alright, I'm fine! It's just uhh...I..." He laughed nervously, failing to reign in his sudden panicked reaction. But for some reason, it seemed as though he couldn't stop smiling.

You reached down to cup his hands in yours. "Luci, listen, if that's not something you're wanting to try, that's totally alright! I'd never ask you to do something that would make you uncomfortable! That's why we talk about everything beforehand! Please don't worry about it." You smiled and cupped his face in your hands to press a light kiss on his lips.

"Now sweetheart, I never said "no", now did I?" you heard a familiar soothing voice echo behind you.

You turned your head slowly, only to see an identical Lucifer sitting next to you on the opposite side. You gulped and smiled warily. The other Lucifer grabbed your hand and kissed it delicately.

"You...you want this?" you turned to your Lucifer as the other continually kissed up your arm.

Lucifer beamed at you, taking your other hand. "More than you know! If I'm given the chance to provide you with as much pleasure as I possibly can, I will never turn down that opportunity! Besides, I do owe you from the reception, and I intend to pay it back tenfold."

You didn't think your face could get any more beet red. Your lips met with your Lucifer once more, his tongue gliding across your bottom lip, begging for entrance, to which you happily obliged. The other Lucifer found his way to your neck, now sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. You had barely begun, and your adrenaline had skyrocketed. You had to pull yourself away before you wouldn't be able to stop yourself.

"I...I'd like to clean up first, if that's alright," you chuckled. Your Lucifer grinned, with both of them standing up and offering you their hands.

"Shall we?" they spoke in unison.

Your face flushed as you took each of their hands, pulling yourself up from the bed. They led you to the illustrious bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. It was way too grand for just a couple. Well, at least you three would take up just a little more space. You stripped out of your reception dress quickly, your lovers following suit. The shower itself could have easily fit everyone on in the hotel inside, but the three of you planned to use the space to your advantage. Once the shower was heated to your liking, you stepped in tentatively, letting the hot water relax your body. You didn't realize how stiff you had been. Perhaps the cause were the two men that just stepped in the shower to join you. One stepped around behind you, the other in front. Perfectly sandwiched between two God-like figured. Her heart threatened to beat out of your chest as you felt two hands gently massage your shoulders while two more thumbed circles around your hips.

"It's alright, darling," your Lucifer spoke calmy from behind. "We'll go at the pace you're most comfortable with, yeah? If you need to stop at any point, say the word and we'll be done." You nodded your head, giving them the 'okay' to continue.

"Let's get you all nice and clean now, love," the other Lucifer cooed. He passed the bottle of shampoo to your Lucifer while he lathered his hands with soap. You felt a pair of hands massaging your scalp ever so gently as they thoroughly scrubbed your soft hair, detangling any knots that may have formed. Two more hands roamed your skin, gliding across every inch of it. Starting at your neck, moving across to your shoulders, down to your breasts. Your breath hitched and you giggled, noticing how long his hands lingered in the specific area. His hands finally moved down lower, to your stomach and your hips, only to reach around and give a few light squeezes to your ass. You knew he was going to be touchy, especially considering it's been an entire week since he's been able to feel you like this. And you weren't going to deny him.

You rinsed your hair, watching the other Lucifer lower himself onto his knees to wash your legs, starting at your calves and working his way up to your thighs. After a few seconds, you noticed his hands have not left your thighs; he continued to run his hands along them delicately but desperately, almost begging for something more. You looked down at him only to be met with pleading eyes. It suddenly clicked with you. Wordlessly, you spread your legs apart slightly, allowing him access to the one area of you that you knew he wanted. That he needed. You let out a few shaky breaths before you at last felt his digits glide along your folds. You didn't know how much you missed the feeling of his fingers until he began his ministrations, easily finding your sensitive nub in the process. You mewled as your Lucifer turned your head to capture your sounds on his lips. You felt the other Lucifer's fingers enter you slowly, causing you to moan into your Lucifer's mouth. He swallowed it happily. You felt him languidly thrust his fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them.

"Now this is heaven," your Lucifer whispered against your collarbone. "I can finally tell you how wonderful you taste on my tongue." Without warning, the Lucifer beneath you gripped your thighs and plugged his face into your aching pussy, your knees nearly buckling under its own weight. Luckily, Lucifer caught you and held you close to his chest as the hot water continued to loosen every muscle in your body.

"I gotcha," your husband murmured before nipping at your neck, leaving bruises and bite marks in his wake. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Both of their tongues worked on your trembling body, your mind couldn't decide which area to focus on. You felt Lucifer's tongue push past your folds, his forked tongue hitting the most sensitive area inside of you. All that managed to leave your throat were whimpers of pure, overwhelming pleasure.

"L-Luci...I-I...," you tried to speak, becoming more and more difficult with each passing second. "B-Bed..."

You felt both Lucifers smile against you, each of them pulling away to stand up straight. The water was turned off and they led you out of the shower. They took some towels, drying you off as best they could before your Luci scooped you up and carried you back over to the bed, laying you down gently.

"What do you desire, my queen?"

You grabbed your Lucifer's hand, directing him to sit behind you. You looked at the other and patted the sheets in between your thighs. "I'm sorry that I interrupted your meal, please continue." Eagerly, the one Lucifer jumped onto the bed and dove between your thighs once more, continuing his tender licks up your dripping slit without giving you a second to brace yourself. You cried out while your Lucifer sat you in his lap.

"Such beautiful sounds, my darling," your Lucifer praised. "I've never been able to hear them so clearly when I've done this before. I've been dying to taste you again; it's been so long." You tried your best to focus on what he was saying, but the pleasure between your legs had taken up every bit of your attention. You missed this more than you were willing to admit; to have your lover devouring you like it was his last meal. You felt his hands snake underneath your arms, beginning to squeeze and knead your breasts. You were seeing stars, your vision blurred as you could feel legs begin to tremble uncontrollably. The other Lucifer had to wrap his arms under your thighs to make sure you couldn't pull away from his devilish tongue that was now circling your clit relentlessly. You were on the verge of breaking. "I can tell you're close, sweetheart. It's okay, let go for me. Let me taste all of you." You felt two fingers enter you at that moment, forcing you to thrust your hips up in unbridled ecstasy. Once his fingers curled inside you, the coil in your stomach snapped.

"A-AAHH...HHNG...LUCIFER!" you cried out as your orgasm overwhelmed you, your walls pulsating around his fingers that had refused to slow down as you came. You rode out your orgasm, feeling Lucifer lap up every last drop of you before you had finally come down from your high. Your breaths were heavy, but your Lucifer captured your lips once more, inhaling every last one. Oddly enough, you could taste a faint hint of yourself on his lips, even though he wasn't the one between your legs.

"Tell me love, how much did you miss my tongue?" the Lucifer below you asked coyly as his thumbs ran soft circles around your inner thighs.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. "Enough to know that I'll never ask you to wait for me again."

He beamed at you, picking himself up from between your legs and leaning for a tender kiss, the other leaving more hickies along your neck. This was everything you could have imagined and more. But you weren't done yet. You needed more. You had felt Lucifer's hardened cock against your back the entire time you were sitting in his lap. It was time to give him his fill of you. And you were more than willing to let him claim every part of you.

"Luci?"

"Yes?" they answered.

"I want you to take me. All of me. Please..."

"D-Do you mean..." your Lucifer swallowed hard, the other completely red in the face.

"I do," you nodded shyly. "Is...Is that alright?"

With a snap of Lucifer's fingers, a third one appeared and stood next to the three of you at the edge of the bed.

"Anything for you, my angel," the third spoke softly, a nervous smile crept across his face.

Oh, you were so fucked! In both senses of the word. Your hands shot up to your face in a failing attempt to hide your embarrassment. You felt a pair of hands pull them away, now staring back at two pairs of lust-filled eyes.

"Are you absolutely sure, love?" Lucifer's voice echoed behind you. You could almost hear the shakiness in it. "Please don't feel as though you need to do this for me."

You managed to shift yourself so that you were now kneeling in front of your Lucifer, his head resting in the palms of your hands. "Yes, I want this. This isn't for you or for me, this is for both of us. I'm yours, my king." You brought your lips to his, entangling your tongues together in a fiery kiss. When you pulled away, Lucifer seemed to be caught in a trance, completely drunk on you.

"Let's get you ready," he grinned. With a swirl of his hand, a bottle of lube had appeared, tossing it to the Lucifer standing beside you. You noticed the writing on the label before he threw it away.

"Apple flavored?" you questioned.

"Let me ask you, did you taste yourself on me when you kissed me a minute ago?" Lucifer smirked a bit when he asked. Your face flushed a bit, but you nodded. "I thought as much. It was faint, but it was there, right? I didn't think you wanted the taste of normal lube when you uhh...umm, yeah...haha...It's hard to explain, but the short and simple of it is that all of our senses are connected. If one of us is touched, the others will feel the sensation of being touched as well. And I promise that the faintest hint of apples will be the only thing you can taste. A little fun fact about duplication for ya!"

You grinned as you and your Lucifer got up from the bed while the second assumed his position, lying flat on his back, his leaking cock resting on his abdomen. You wanted nothing more than to ride him senseless right now as you made your way back on all fours and hovered yourself over him, but you knew you would get to soon enough. You smiled down at him beneath you, he grinned and winked in response. The other two joined you in bed, with one kneeling behind you, the other in front. Your Lucifer's cock hung just inches from your face, almost begging for any kind of attention. You went to grab it, but his hand stopped yours. "Ah, ah, patience," he scolded lovingly, "I can wait. Let me concentrate on you, yeah?" As if on cue, you felt a cold finger teasing the entrance of your ass. In inhaled sharply, gripping the sheets below you from the sensation. You and Lucifer didn't use it often, but you always enjoyed it whenever you tried it.

"Ready?" you heard him ask behind you.

"Yes."

Slowly, he inserted his lubed finger into you, letting your muscles relax around him. After a few pumps, a second finger was inserted, thrusting in and stretching you out as much as he possibly could. He applied a generous about of lube as he spread his fingers apart inside you, opening you up and making sure you would be able to handle more in just a little bit. The less pain you felt, the better. When he felt as though you were thoroughly prepped, his digits retreated from your ass. He rubbed some more lube down the length of his shaft before positioning himself to enter you. At the same time, you felt the Lucifer below you shift, lining his cock up with your wet cunt. You inhaled deeply a few times, albeit a bit shakily.

"If you need to stop at any time, please don't hesitate to use our safe word," your Lucifer instructed. "Do you remember what it is?"

"Radio." you responded. Neither of you had to use it before, but this seemed like a scenario where it may need to come into play. The word still made you chuckle to yourself regardless.

"That's my girl," he cooed. "Tap my leg and I'll pull out if you need to use it. Slow and steady now..."

You felt your ass stretch first as he entered you lethargically, letting you stretch around his length. You felt the burning sensation for a moment or two, but it soon receded after he remained fully inside for little bit. Your pussy was next, sinking down as far as you could before Lucifer's hips bucked up to meet yours. With two cocks now fully sheathed inside of you, you gave them the 'okay' to start moving. The room was filled with nothing but moans when their hips started rutting into you, feeling absolutely and completely full. You looked up at your Lucifer with desperate eyes.

"Y-Your turn, Luci," you babbled, opening your mouth wide, your tongue falling to the wayside and drool beginning to drip down your chin.

"F-Fuck..." was all he managed to choke out before to tip of his cock was already past your lips. He did his best to match the pace with his other selves, not wanting to go too deep. And he was right; the faintest scent of apples filled your senses as his cock was pushed in and out of your hot throat.

This moment was pure bliss.

Your mouth, your ass, and your cunt all being filled and fucked senseless, somehow in the most tender and loving way imaginable. Lucifer had never been rough with you and he wasn't about to start now. All three cocks were hitting every single pleasure point in your body, it was almost overwhelming. But you didn't dare stop.

You felt a pair of Lucifer's claws dig into your ass as he fucked you from behind, another pair shooting up to grip your hips as he thrusted up into your aching cunt. The last pair of hand you felt playing with your hair as you used your tongue and mouth to drive him mad. But you felt something else not long after. Something had wrapped around your leg. His tail. You weren't sure which it belonged to but you were too fucked out of your mind at this point to care. You felt something else, something that could have made you scream were your mouth not full. Another one of his tails, but this one had gone straight for your clit, its movements increasing with every thrust. Your eyes crossed as your second orgasm hit you like a freight train, giving you no time to prepare. You moaned loudly around Lucifer’s cock as your pussy clenched around his other, your juices leaking out and trailing down your thighs.

“GAA-AHHH, O-OH FFFFUCK,” all of them gasped together. All of them had felt you cum on his cock. He was done for.

“M-My love…”

“Ssshhhhiiittt…I-I’m…”

“I-I can’t…can’t s-stop…”

“FUCK, C-CUMMING…I’M CUMMMING!”

All their movement had stopped as they came at the same time. You felt his hot seed spill out inside of every hole he filled. It took everything you had left in you to not collapse right then and there. Your Lucifer was the first to pull out, finally letting you properly catch your breath. You swallowed his cum without a second thought, licking your lips as you stared up at him innocently. He turned away from you quickly, his face feeling like it had caught fire. You felt two pairs of hands grab your waist, hoisting you up and off of them, and gently laying you down on your back. With a final snap of his fingers, the two Lucifers smiled at you one last time before disappearing, leaving you with just one. Lucifer, now completely spent, plopped down on the bed right next to you. You shuffled closer to him, snuggling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and peppered kisses all along your face. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Are you okay, my queen?” he asked breathlessly. “I didn’t hurt you at all, did I? Was it too much? Were you-MMPH” you cut him off with a searing kiss to his lips. He melted into you, your lips languidly moving against each other. You pulled away, tears welling up in your eyes. Lucifer’s face fell instantly. “Oh, God, I hurt you, didn’t I?! Fuck, I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t mean to-”

“No, Lucifer!” you laughed, cutting his panic short. “I’m not hurt, you didn’t hurt me! I-I’m just…so happy…” you threw your arms around him and began to squeeze his body as hard as you could manage. “Thank you…”

His arms tightened around you as well, bringing you as close to him as physically possible. “No, my love, I should be thanking you. Not just for this. But for everything else.” He sat you both up, now leaning yourselves against the headboard. He left one arm draped over your shoulder as the other reached for your hand. “You’ve given me everything I could ever want, and more than I ever deserve. You’ve given me patience, understanding, kindness, stability, joy. I could go on forever about what you’ve done for me. But out of all of those, the one thing that you’ve given me that I know I could never go without, is your love. You’re mine, and I’m yours, until the end of time. I love you.”

You couldn’t stop your tears from falling. You smiled at him sweetly, wiping away the tears from your cheeks. “I love you too, Lucifer. But you’re wrong, you know.” The angel cocked an eyebrow at you. “You deserve everything and more. Never doubt that.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “You’ll always have me. Always.”

Tears fell from his eyes now, pecking your face with more kisses again. Suddenly, he scooped you up in his arms and hopped off the bed in an instant.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we, my beautiful wife?” he whispered to you as you made your way to the bathroom once more. “Hope you like bubble baths!”

“Of course I do, my darling husband.” He smiled and leaned down to press another kiss to your parted lips.

~~~

GOD, PLEASE, I CAN EXPLAIN 😫🙏🏻

Anywho, hope you liked part 3! Part 4 will be a sort of epilogue so stay tuned! Thank you everyone for your support 💖

@ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht @raindropsfromheaven @slutforlucifermorningstar @lola576 @ag-cookiebat800 @victoriousvic @rand0m-1diot @lonelynmisunderstood @cosmic-lavender @yourmom132 @liveontelevision @luci-lover-forever

[scribblesofagoonerr]

Clouds, Cookies & 'Roos

Here's some more fluff, cos' I feel like all I have written recently is heavy angst, so I thought I'd try give you all a bit of a break.

I want to turn this into a mini series, so hit me up with any ideas if you have any!

Pairings: steph catley x child reader Warnings: nothing, just adorable fluff.

You'd never been on an airplane, having been born in England and always being too little to travel any time previously, you'd never had the chance to experience it, so you definitely had mixed feelings about your first adventure on one of them.

You were heading to Australia for the first time, the world cup was going to be hosted over there in your mama's home country and it was an opportunity that she was ecstatic for and she wanted to share that experience with you.

"Hey sweetie, are you excited about your first big adventure on the airplane?" Your mama, Steph knelt down to meet your eye level.

You weren't so convinced that it would be as fun as your mum kept saying that it would be, "M' scared, Mama. What if the plane's too loud or bumpy?" you questioned.

Steph sympathetically smiled as she gently brushed your hair out of your face, her heart ached for your anxiety about the flight, "I understand, baby and it's perfectly normal to feel a little nervous about flying, escpecially when it's your first time" Steph's voice is gentle and reassuring, "But hey, guess what? I'm going to be right here with you, every single step of the way" she told you.

"Really?" Your voice was quiet as you asked.

Steph nodded in agreement, "Yep, and you know what else? Once we're up in the air, you'll be able to see the clouds and they look so cool, like fluffy pillows just floating in the sky" she told you, trying to make you feel a bit more excited about getting on the plane, "And the flight attendants will bring us snacks and drinks, so it'll just be like a picnic in the clouds" she explained.

A small tentive smile tugged at the corners of your lips, "Really, Mama? Can we have chocolate chip 'ookies?" you ask with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Absolutely, sweetheart. You can have all the chocolate chip cookies that you want, within reason cos' we don't you being sick now, do we?" Steph said as her eyes sparkled in amusement, watching you do a little dance in your seat, "You know what's even better? When we land in Australia, you'll be able to see all the animals as well, like the kangaroos and koalas. Doesn't that sound like fun?" she questioned.

Hearing the mention of animals, your eyes lit up in complete joy, "We're gonna see the Roos'?" you wondered, your apprehension was soon melting away to be replaced with a spark of excitment.

Steph nodded enthusiastically, "Yep, you'll be able to see them hop really, really high" she told you just the flight you were boarding was called out, "That's our flight, sweetie. Are you ready to get on the plane?" she questioned, holding out her hand for you to take.

"Excited, Mama!" You beamed a wide smile, all but now tugging at her hand in the direction of the depature gate, "Come on, Mama. Lets' go, I want to see the 'Roos!" you squealed, excitedly as Steph chuckled in amusment and was quick to follow, not having the heart to tell you that it would be a long flight before you were able to see your beloved 'Roos like you were excited for.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[ophelisstuff]

𝐁𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐍 | P.B x reader

authors notes : i know absolutely nothing about cheerleading or cheer comps. But I hope you enjoyed

requested by : anon

paige bueckers x competitive cheerleader reader

warnings : none

word count : 1.1k

best suited in dark mode !

You sighed and walked into Paige’s apartment tiredly. exhausted from the numerous hours spent practicing with your teammates.

With All Star Worlds right around the corner, you had been at the gym practicing with your team almost every day.

Leaving you fatigue and eager to go home and be held in Paige’s warm embrace. Desperate to listen to her voice as you fell asleep in her arms.

Throwing your cheer practice bag on the floor by the entrance, you shut the door and walked further into the apartment. The sound of footsteps coming from the hallway seconds after the door had closed

Immediately coming from around the corner to greet you, it seemed as if the blonde had been waiting impatiently for your arrival.

A grin on her face as her hand trailed down to your waist, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. Paige finally felt at peace, having you in her embrace after going all day without seeing you.

“Hi baby, how was cheer practice?” She asked, her hand remaining on your waist as she smiled ear to ear.

“It was so exhausting” She began, the blondes eyes focused on you — giving you all of her attention. “Coach lectured us about how we can’t lack energy on stage like we do at practice.”

Paige laughed, a wide grin on her face. “You know, I could totally be a competitive cheerleader. if i wanted to” She spoke confidently “Just without the flips n’ shit, that’s way out of my category”

The blonde often times begged you to teach her your routines. Determined to learn them no matter how complicated they were.

Always having you seated on the living room couch, showcasing the steps you taught her proudly. Even daring to showcase and teach her teammates the steps as well.

Deeming herself as your Biggest Fan, which you never doubted whatsoever. The girl always showed up at your competitions and always helped you get ready. Explaining that she wouldn’t optionally miss any of them for the world.

Even when her games fell on the day of your competitions, Paige would always facetime you and watch as you got get ready through the screen. Wishing you luck and having a bouquet of flowers waiting when you returned home.

“Keep it up and Coach might just make you my replacement.” You laughed at your girlfriend, walking past her and making your way to the bedroom — looking through dresser drawers for a pair of pajamas.

“Oh! are we taking a shower?” Paige asked, her attention drifting away from the cheer topic as she watched you lay out the pajamas. Consisting of her hoodie and a pair of pajama shorts.

Walking over to the dresser as well, the blonde began picking out new pajamas to put on. Despite knowing she had showered less than an hour ago.

“No, I’m taking a shower — you already showered” You told Paige, walking into the bathroom. The girl trailing behind you like a lost puppy in disbelief.

“That is not fair! Another shower won’t hurt anyone!” Paige exclaimed, walking into the bathroom with you as she sat on the bathroom countertop.

“I’m hot and sweaty, i’ll be out soon” You promised your girlfriend, placing a kiss on her cheek as you turned the shower temperature on cold.

“I can cool you off better than the shower can.” She muttered beneath her breath, rolling her eyes as she exited the bathroom.

▏cheer comp day !

“Paige! I said high ponytail, not low ponytail!” You exclaimed, taking the elastic out of your hair as you looked back at your girlfriend who stood behind you. Holding the look of a stressed and confused mom.

“Well I don’t even do my own hair, you do!” Paige spoke as she opened safari, googling what a high ponytail looked like.

Acting as if she had never seen the hairstyle in her life. Forgetting the fact you had to wear one during nearly every competition.

Hair products, makeup and a wide array of other items laid out on the stand connected to the mirror. You watched as Paige sprayed unnecessary amounts of hairspray on your hair. Setting the phone down as she started the style over.

“Okay wait, I remember this now!” Paige exclaimed as she brushed your hair upwards. You slowly beginning to wish you’d hadn’t agreed to her doing you hair.

The blonde spent the entire car ride pleading to help you get ready, specifically asking to help do your hair and watch you do the required makeup.

Unable to say no, you eventually gave into the girl’s pleads. Allowing her to mess with your hair until she successfully pulled it into tight high ponytail. “Got it!” She beamed, grabbing the navy blue bow that was covered with sparkles. Placing it front and center as it normally was.

Quickly doing a light face of makeup with the help of your girlfriend, Paige gave you the occasional time check — letting you know how much longer you had until it was time to preform.

When it came down to competitions, Paige acted like an over the top cheer mom. Always making sure to be on time and making sure everything was going the way it was supposed to.

Making sure all your bags were packed the night before and even loading them into the car that same night. The blonde didn’t mess around when it came to cheer competitions. Always making sure there was no room for anything to go wrong.

Standing up in your shimmery, navy blue cheer costume with the word ‘Uconn’ engraved in a cursive font on the front. Paige embraced you one last time before you had to preform.

“I love you, and you’re gonna do so well” She smiled, wrapping her arms around your waist as she whispered the words of affection to you. Wanting to make sure you carried her support during the performance.

“I love you too. And you’re gonna be in the audience watching, right?” You questioned out of nervousness, looking up at her as you broke the hug.

“I always am and always will be” Paige reassured, watching as your other teammates made their way out of the dressing room.

You smiled at the girl and nodded, hurrying behind the others. Thinking about how lucky you were to have Paige in your life.

Her being someone who brought nothing but positive memories, treating you like a piece of fine china and always offering unconditional support.

Always showing up whenever you needed her the most, and being the first person you always spotted in the audience — cheering at the top of her lungs.

It was safe to say that Paige Bueckers really was your Number One fan.

authors note

i’m so so so sorry if this was bad! I actually have zero knowledge when it comes to competitive cheer. But I hope you enjoy !! Requests are open too !

[talaok]

Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…

warnings: jelousy

a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request 

It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...

and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face one... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.

But it still wasn't hate

Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits

And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?

"You're staring"

Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you

"I just don't get why he's here"

You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"

"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,

"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"

Yeah right

He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.

You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen 

he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,

and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.

"I saw him look at you before"

This time, you did let out a little snort

"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"

But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you

"I'm sorry to interrupt-"

Then fucking don't

"I just wanted to introduce myself" 

Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior

"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy

"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"

As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists

This fucking guy-

"Hi pal"

Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off

"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"

The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea

"Oh, I didn't know you were married"

Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room

Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much, 

How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?

It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious

"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"

"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him

"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"

Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye

"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"

Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it

He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement

"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"

Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly

"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"

"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder 

You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place

"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement

"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""

Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head

"listen, man-"

"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"

Shawn let out a loud breath before responding

"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"

"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"

You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time

"that was a bit harsh"

Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist

"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked

Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength

"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck

"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing

[kitten4sannie]

backstage bukakke with ateez ♡

a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂‍↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3

Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.

“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.

“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.

San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”

You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”

He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”

You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.

Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”

Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.

San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”

Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”

His pointer finger drifted down your chest, along the seam of your blazer, gazing down at you. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”

The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.

“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.

San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.

-

“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”

You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.

“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”

You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”

“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”

You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.

“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.

“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”

“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”

Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”

San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”

“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”

San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.

“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.

San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”

All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.

San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve. 

“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place. 

“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.” 

“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.” 

“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?” 

Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.” 

“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”

“You can watch our slut suck my cock.” 

Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over. 

It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side. 

“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks. 

Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.

San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”

Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.

“Please!”

Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum. 

Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.

“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear. 

“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip. 

“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.

You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”

The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”

San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[erwinsvow]

i feel like pogue!reader with rafe would have an interesting dynamic with barry. like, he doesn’t particularly like her - knowing her connection with the pogues, especially jj but at the same time he’s dealing with rafe and pogues as a collective have gotta stick together. he’s also just morbidly curious about how she and country club have became a thing.

barry laughs when he sees you walking into his place, attached to rafe's side.

"ain't that-"

"that's my fuckin' girl. so watch your mouth." rafe cuts him off before he can finish the rest of his sentence, which is sure to have something to do with the fact that the few times barry's seen you before, you've been with the pogues that rafe supposedly hates so much.

"your girl? is that right? well, pleasure to meet you again, m'barry-"

you look up hesitantly at rafe, wondering if you should say something back, and you briefly reflect for a moment just how different things used to be. with your best friends, with jj and john b and pope at your side, the group of you would go and make yourselves comfortable anywhere. they'd charm their way into the good graces of the host and you never felt like you couldn't just speak your mind.

rafe is different. you don't know if it's bad, if he's bad for you, or not. talking to someone when you know he doesn't want you to feels wrong, feels bad. and you like him taking lead, him showing you the way and calling all the shots.

so you smile at barry but don't engage, looking up at your boyfriend instead. he looks down at you for a second, but you can tell you did the right thing.

"sit down and shut up. c'mon, we got shit to discuss."

"tells me to sit down. in my own fuckin' house. i gotta tell you princess, you picked a real winner here in rafey boy-"

"did y'not hear the shut up part?"

a laugh escapes, though you try to keep it quiet. they go on discussing something that doesn't mean much to you, while you go on your phone and text your friends. rafe's phone rings, and he just steps away for a minute to answer. barry doesn't hesitate a second to get the answers he needs from you.

"so. you and country club. how long's that been goin' on?"

"um, a couple months."

"your boys know 'bout him?" you bite your cheek. they don't, yet.

"not yet. but, soon, i guess. waiting for the right time.." you mumble, playing with a loose stitch on your skirt.

"yeah. i'd get on that. not gonna be too happy, are they?"

"maybe."

"don't they hate your boy as much as he hates them? ain't that.. awkward?"

you think you should be offended by the line of questioning, but rafe talks about barry often enough for you to know that he's not a snitch, that he doesn't care. he's just curious.

and he should be. up until a few months ago, you were never seen without your boys, as barry put it. you used to be attached to jj's arm, permanent passenger princess in pope's truck and the twinkie. it all feels like a lifetime ago.

"i'm hoping we can all make amends," you finish softly, fresh waves of guilt washing through your body. it burns where it goes, a stinging similar to what your friends are gonna feel soon, when they find out you've been dating the boy who's been terrorizing them.

"for your sake, i hope so too."

"what're you two talkin' about?" rafe asks, coming back inside and taking his place next to you. he puts his hand on your knee, brings you in close without having to ask.

you hope it's all going to be worth it.

"nothing."

[corroded-hellfire]

Continuing on with my baby fever I came across videos of parents "laying" (softly hovering) on their babies lap to see their reaction. Some babies are gentle with one parent and push of the other parent. But I wanna see how Eliza would react to the entire Munson family doing this. Thank you!

Baby fever you say? 👀 Step into my office…

Honestly, looking up reference videos for this fic was the most heart melting thing ever and I thank you for bringing that into my life. I hope I have done this justice for you!

Words: 3.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Ugh,” Luke groans as he flops down on the floor of Eliza’s nursery. The Minnie Mouse shirt and pair of toddler jeans he’s holding smack him in the face as his dramatics bring him down.

Eliza sits on her miniature butterfly couch and watches her brother, face stoic as the two-year-old is used to the theatrics he’s inherited from their father. 

“What is taking so long?” Ryan strolls into the room and leans against the door jamb. He crosses his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow as he clocks his brother on the ground. 

Flinging the articles of clothing behind him, Luke huffs and turns his head to meet Ryan’s questioning look.

“Every outfit I pick out she doesn’t like!”

Heaving a loud sigh, Ryan saunters over to the closet tucked into the corner of the pink room. Curious as to what he’s doing, Eliza cranes her neck in an attempt to see past her oldest brother. Try as she might though, she doesn’t have x-ray vision and has to wait for Ryan to turn around to see the black and white striped dress and pastel green sweater.

“Eh?” Ryan raises his eyebrows as he holds the items out towards the toddler.

Keeping her chin high, little Eliza looks over the proposed outfit before nodding her affirmation once. 

“What?” Luke shouts as he bolts upright. “The Minnie Mouse shirt is way better!”

Ryan throws a smirk over his shoulder at his younger brother as he helps Eliza get changed into the winning look of the day. 

“She must love me more.”

“Uh, no,” Eliza hums as her head pops free from the confines of the dress. “Better clothes.”

Luke cackles with laughter, arms crossing against his stomach as he falls on his back once more.

“Oh, that’s too good! Please, we all know I’m her favorite,” Luke says.  

At only two-years-old Eliza is already used to her brothers competing in almost every aspect of life. She rolls her doe brown eyes and allows Ryan to help her into the green sweater before leaving the two boys alone in her room. 

“I seem to recall us having this argument before and Grandpa somehow coming out the winner,” Ryan says, following the little girl’s lead and heading towards the door. 

“Well,” Luke says, stretching out the word as he scrambles to push himself up into a standing position, “then this time we don’t allow him to be part of our bet.”

The older Munson brother shakes his head in amusement as he walks out into the hall and to the right, towards the rest of the house. Luke is right behind him though, practically nipping at his heels as he waits for some kind of response. 

“What bet?” Ryan asks, stepping into the kitchen.

“Yeah, what bet?” Eddie echoes, eyeing his two sons over his “#1 Dad” coffee mug where he leans against the counter. 

“Seeing who Eliza’s favorite is. And not Grandpa this time,” Luke informs his dad as he slides into a chair at the table. 

“I believe that would be me,” you say with a proud smirk, traipsing in from the living room with an empty sippy cup. “I just turned on Rolie Polie Olie for her.” 

“No one can compete with the Rol,” Eddie jokes, giving you a playful wink and a smile. 

“She definitely loves that show more than she loves any of us,” Ryan says. He yanks the refrigerator door open and stares inside as if something new is magically going to appear before his eyes. 

“I bet I could interrupt it and she’d be okay with it,” your husband says. “And will you either grab something out of the fridge or close the damn door?”

“So, you’re saying you’re the favorite, Dad?” Luke asks, eyebrows disappearing into the curls that are getting too long for his liking. 

“Isn’t that old news?” Eddie asks with a smirk as he walks over to grab Luke’s box of Lucky Charms. 

“Everything about you is old,” Ryan says.

The joke has your hand slipping, causing the apple juice you were refilling Eliza’s sippy cup with to spill all over the counter. Avoiding Eddie’s eyes, you try to hide your snort of laughter as you grab a towel to mop up the mess. Once the sippy cup is successfully filled up, you turn back towards the living room—Eddie’s eyes still firmly burning your back—and go to give your daughter her drink. 

“Didn’t we already do this? I feel like we played this game before,” you say. “Eliza picked Wayne over all of us.”

Eddie shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. “No beating the old man. The actual old man.” Eddie narrows his eyes at Ryan, who just chuckles in return. 

“No,” Luke says. He shakes his head as he lets the marshmallow cereal fall into his bowl. “We have to know who her favorite in the house is.” 

“Any ideas?” Ryan asks, plopping down in the seat across the table from his little brother. 

“Hmm,” Luke hums as he chews on a bite of his breakfast. “I’ll brainstorm at school today.”

In the end, it’s you who comes up with the idea that sets the competition into motion. Once Eddie heads out to work and the boys to school, you realize how much you’re able to get done around the house because Eliza is thoroughly hypnotized by her favorite show. It’s not until the hour of Rolie Polie Olie is done that Eliza is running around the house, wanting to play with every toy under the roof. 

After dinner that night, and once Eliza is in bed, you bring your idea up to the boys.

“So, like, we take turns? One person a day?” Luke asks.

You nod in confirmation.

“Right. Because if we all did it one after the other on the same day, she’d get cranky and it wouldn’t be fair for whoever goes last.”

“What, we like, pick straws?” Ryan asks. “Then someone goes Tuesday, then Wednesday...?”

“I’m game,” Eddie says. He lifts one flannel-clad arm and rests it behind you on the couch, giving you the perfect opportunity to snuggle into his side. 

“So…” Luke muses as he walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, on the opposite side of Eddie. “We just put our heads in her lap like this?” The younger Munson boy demonstrates by laying his curly head on your thighs, staring up at you with wide blue eyes. 

“Exactly,” you say, reaching down to boop the tip of his nose. “See if she cuddles you or pushes you off. And then we’ll see who she has the best reaction to.”

“I like it,” Ryan says.

“Me too,” Luke agrees. “Ryan, go get straws. Cut one short!”

With an irritated eye roll, Ryan does as his little brother says, feet shuffling along the carpet as he goes. 

The plan springs into action the next day. According to the laws of the straws, Ryan was up first. Followed by Luke, you, and then Eddie rounds it out. 

Tuesday morning starts off like every other weekday, everyone running through their routines to get ready for whatever lies ahead for them that day. Once Eliza is dressed in her purple long sleeve shirt, pink overalls, and her morning apple juice is finished, it’s time for the games to begin. 

You, Eddie, and Luke watch as inconspicuously as you can from the kitchen entryway as Ryan approaches the couch. Your daughter’s eyes never leave the little yellow robots, even as her oldest brother kneels on the dusty-brown cushion next to her and keeps scooting closer. 

Eliza’s leaning back, her legs out straight in front of her, and Ryan takes advantage of the open space to lay his head right down on her little knees. The two-year-old just seems confused at first. She looks down at Ryan, back up to Rolie, down to Ryan, up to Rolie, then back down to Ryan again. After staring down at her big brother for a little while, Eliza reaches for his head and begins to card her tiny fingers through his golden-brown locks. Her hands continue the movements even as she turns her attention back to the television screen. Ryan can’t help but smile; it actually feels really nice. She keeps up the motions until there’s a commercial. Then Ryan rolls on his back to look up at her and she giggles down at him in return, not sure what he’s doing, but happy to have his attention. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Ryan asks.

Instead of answering verbally, Eliza wraps her arms around her big brother’s neck and settles back against the cushions. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ryan says with a chuckle, before adding under his breath, “and as a win.”

Wednesday, it’s Luke’s turn. Once Eliza’s got her favorite show on and a cup of apple juice in her, he makes his move. It’s clear from the moment Luke’s head hits her lap that Eliza is in a feistier mood today. Whether she woke up like that or Luke brings it out of her is anyone’s guess. 

“Ow,” Luke groans as two small hands beat down on the side of his head as if it’s a drum. The boy winces, face scrunching up, but as you watch him alongside Eddie and Ryan from around the corner, you can tell Luke is trying to stick it out and see if he can somehow salvage a win. There’s a brief glimmer of hope when Eliza stops percussing on her brother’s head. However, it’s short-lived. 

Short, stubby fingers make their way up to Luke’s curls and the youngest Munson boy breathes a sigh of relief, seeing as how gentle the toddler was with Ryan’s hair the day before. The problem, they discover, is that since Luke’s curls are far tighter than his older brother’s, Eliza’s fingers quickly get caught in them. 

“Oh, please no,” Luke murmurs, but it’s too late.

Eliza tries to yank her hands free, frustrated that her fingers can’t run smoothly through his locks like she did for their eldest sibling. She pulls Luke’s hair while letting out her own whine.

“Ouch! Why are you whining? I’m the one who’s about to be bald!”

Next to you, Eddie lets out a snort of laughter. 

“Bald?” Eddie says. “Wayne? That you?”

Giving a roll of your eyes, you gently swat at his stomach. Luke also hears his dad’s remark and gives him a glare from the couch as he tries to wrestle himself free from the toddler’s grip. 

Finally, Eliza is able to slip her hands free from the rat’s nest that’s become of Luke’s hair—thanks to her. She’s thoroughly annoyed now and grumbles a few low groans, giving up on words completely. If she were old enough to know swear words, she’d definitely be using those.

Luke breathes a sigh of relief and raises a hand to rub at his sore scalp. Before he can make contact though, both of Eliza’s hands splay flat on the back of his skull and she gives a hard shove. The implication is clear: get off my lap.

Not willing to risk any more of her tiny wrath, Luke rolls off her and off the couch altogether. He lands with a thud on the carpet and gets the chance to rub at his head at last. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Eliza, who is no longer paying him any mind. She’s immersed in Rolie Polie Olie once again, the rest of the world forgotten. 

Your youngest son pushes himself to his feet with a huff. He shuffles back towards the kitchen, back towards the rest of you.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he mumbles as he passes, heading straight for the fridge. 

To Eddie and Ryan’s credit, they do both stay silent as the three of you turn to watch Luke yank a Yoo-Hoo out of the refrigerator and pop the top. He chugs down half the bottle before wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand. 

“Ugh,” Luke says with a sigh as he heads toward the hallway. “It’s not even 8 am yet.”

With both of the boys’ attempts out of the way, you’re up. You debate going in straight for the lap when you give her the purple sippy cup of apple juice, but something tells you that you’d end up with a wet and sticky face though. Instead, you wait until most of the beverage is gone and she’s let the bottle roll out of her hand onto the cushion next to her. 

“Good luck, babe,” Eddie says, giving your ass a pat before you walk out into the living room. 

As soon as your knee touches the couch, the television show your daughter is so transfixed on goes to commercial. She turns her head to look at you, large brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

You freeze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. It’s odd to be struck still and silent by your two-year-old, but here you are. Rolie Polie Olie being on a commercial break could either make or break this for you. 

“Mama!” Eliza chirps.

A breath loses from your chest, and you give her a grin as you move to lay your head on her little legs. The moment your body makes contact with hers, Eliza’s arms encircle you as much as they possibly can, and she leans down to rest her head against yours. Her cheek smooshes against yours, her chin bumping into the corner of your eye. 

Warmth floods through you, your heart growing three sizes as she lays all her body weight against yours.

“Hold on,” you hear Luke mutter from the kitchen, “wait to see what happens when the show comes back.”

There are only about forty-five seconds until just that happens. 

Eliza’s skin brushes against your cheek as she adjusts her head to get a better view of the television, but otherwise stays where she is. In fact, it feels as if she cuddles into you even further as she settles in to watch her favorite show. 

“Oh, come on,” you hear Luke complain. The twelve-year-old is clearly not happy that he is losing this competition so far. It’s not as if Eliza could be bribed, though. Luckily, toddlers haven’t been corrupted by life yet. 

Luke walks into the room and stands at the side of the couch, hands resting on his hips. 

“Comfy, are we?” he asks. 

It’s evident your daughter is quite cozy as she doesn’t look up at her brother or move for the rest of the episode. 

“All right,” Eddie says, rubbing his hands together. “Saved the best for last.”

“Debatable,” Ryan says as he chomps on a granola bar. 

Your husband flicks Ryan’s black-rimmed glasses so they slide down his nose. With a huff that sounds far more sophisticated than one coming from a fourteen-year-old, your son shakes it off. 

“Ready?” you ask, slipping your arms around Eddie’s waist. 

“Always up for snuggles with my girls.” 

A wet, smacking kiss is placed on your cheek, and you let out a soft giggle.

“Gross,” Luke groans.

“I know you are, but what am I?” Eddie taunts, proving he’s as mature as his adolescent sons. 

You let your arms drop from around his middle and you cup Eddie’s cheeks. 

“Go get her,” you say.

He pecks your lips before heading out into the living room.

Eliza is as entranced as always in her cartoon and Eddie takes advantage of that by silently sidling up to her. She doesn’t even realize he’s there until the couch dips next to her and her empty sippy cup rolls until it meets Eddie’s jean-clad knee.  

He moves the cup aside and slowly lowers himself until he’s able to rest his head in his daughter’s lap. 

At first, it’s as if Eliza doesn’t even notice. She’s watching her show, letting her dad just lay down on her. But after a few seconds, her stare breaks from the television and her brown eyes meet matching larger ones. Her head tilts to the side, inspecting him, and her curls bob with the motion. Eddie smiles up at her and a slow grin grows on her face in return. 

One of Eliza’s tiny hands splays across Eddie’s forehead, some of his bangs getting pushed to the side, and some getting caught under her warm palm. Her other hand lands on his chin, delicate fingers curving around his jaw and rubbing against some stubble. 

Eliza stays like that, looking down at her father, not moving. It takes everything in Eddie not to laugh as he just stares back at the inquisitive little face that reminds him so much of you. 

Quickly, Eliza leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s nose. Gone is his urge to laugh, replaced by the most adoring grin as he revels in her affection. He’s about to thank her for the kiss when she leans in to do it again. This time, however, her mouth is open, and she ends up enveloping his nose in her small mouth.

There’s no way Eddie can hold in his laughter this time as he feels her drool dribble up his nose onto his face. The giddiness is infectious because Eliza pulls her mouth off only to begin laughing alongside of him. 

“You might just be as weird as I am,” he tells her, which makes her laugh even harder. 

That night at dinner, the results are discussed.

“So, who wins?” Ryan asks as he spears some green beans with his fork.

“Not me,” Luke grumbles, slouching down in his chair. 

“Oh, relax,” Eddie says, reaching over and clapping the younger boy on the shoulder. “It’s not like this was scored or anything.”

Luke drops his fork onto the plate with a clang and raises his hands up in front of him.

“My hair ruined it for me! That’s not fair!”

“You know, she can talk now,” you point out, looking at Eliza happily eating in her highchair next to you.

“Good point,” Ryan says. He clears his throat and leans across the table towards her. “Eliza, which of us is your favorite?”

The little girl pops a grape in her mouth and chews, looking like she’s thoughtfully thinking over the question.

“Me,” she finally says.

“No,” Luke says with a shake of his head. “Which of us?” He emphasizes his point by gesturing to the four of you around the table. 

Eliza nods her head once, with finality. “Me.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and shrugs his shoulders.

“Her Majesty has spoken.”

“I don’t think it counts,” Luke laments, looking back down to his plate.

“Yeah, her vote doesn’t count,” Ryan agrees.

You and Eddie share a look of amusement across the table. With these three around, life will never be boring.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡A Sky Full of Stars♡

♡ Pairing: idol!dad!hongjoong x fem!mom!reader

♡ Genre: the fluffiest of fluff

♡ Summary: Just some sweet moments you share with Hongjoong when you and your daughter surprise him after their Coachella set.

♡ Word Count: 1.4k

♡ Warnings: If there's any warning it's that your kid has a name. I know some people don't like that. She's named after an artist Joong likes who I think has a pretty name so that's all babes.

♡ A/N: I set out to make this super fluffy summer road/beach trip fic with Joong but I sat down to write and this is what came out instead so I present to you some post-concert fluff and I hope it gives you all the sweet feelings it gave me writing it.

This can’t be real.

It’s all Hongjoong keeps repeating in his head as he steps off of the Sahara stage at Coachella. His ears are ringing, his heart’s beating out of his chest, his throat’s on fire, and he’d walk right back on that stage to keep going if he could.

It seems like only yesterday his group was fighting to debut; now they’re here, performing on a stage some artists can only dream of stepping foot on. The joy on his member’s faces. The sound of their fans screaming for them. It’s a special kind of magic he wishes he could bottle up and keep somewhere safe to treasure forever.

“Captain!” Wooyoung cheers, throwing an arm around him, “We did good?” Hongjoong looks around to see his members staring at him, his approval all that matters in the sea of praise thrown at them by staff. Hongjoong nods, wiping his face with a towel, “We did good!” Smiles perk up their exhausted faces as they drag themselves down the steps leading to the backstage area.

Stepping onto the grass, Hongjoong stares up at the infinity pool of stars that is the California sky. Just when he feels himself begin to float away, a faint tugging at his pants keeps his feet on the ground. It’s so faint that he almost questions if he felt it at all until Yeosang lays a hand on his shoulder letting him know, “You have company.” 

Hongjoong’s eyes dance their way down his leg to find a smaller nearly identical set of eyes staring up at him. All he’d done not to cry is for nothing when he sees the chubby glitter speckled cheeks of his little 2 year old smiling at the sight of him. “Olivia…” he gasps, scooping her into his arms, “What are you doing here?”

The other members gather around like moths to a flame. Of any fan they’ve ever had their niece will always be their favorite. Mingi squats down to eye level with her, pinching her cheek, “Hi, Oli. Uncle’s here.” “Oh look at these” San coos, playing with the two ponytails sat atop her tiny head, “So cute.”

Hongjoong holds her close to his heart, shaking the tears from his eyes. “Daddy cry?” she asks, touching his cheek. Hongjoong smiles, choosing to dodge the question rather than lie, “Um, where’s your mo—” “Here!” you say, hugging him from behind. You had every intention of announcing yourself to begin with but the happiness on his face seeing Oli was too adorable to interrupt.

That same happiness plays on repeat when he feels your arms around his waist. You weren’t supposed to be here. Your flight had been delayed twice and the baby was beginning to get fussy. Hongjoong had insisted you just stay home and watch the livestream. Just knowing you were watching would be enough for him but that’d never be enough for you. If you had to grow wings to fly yourself here you’d have done it to be by his side.

Not satisfied with simply knowing you’re there, Hongjoong reaches his free arm back to pull you around to his side. Time slows when he looks at you this way—like you’re one of the most precious things on this Earth. You’re one of two really, the other’s bouncing in his other arm with her fingers scrunched around his collar.

“Hey you” you beam, wiping a few rogue tears from his face. Hongjoong kisses you, soft lips pressed to yours in what has to be the sweetest, saltiest kiss you’ve ever shared. You don’t care how sweaty he is, only that you’re together. “Hey you” he smiles, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” You shrug, playing it cute so he doesn’t kill you, “I wanted it to be a surprise.” Give him a heads up so he has ample time to play it tough? Never.

“Ahem,” Seonghwa interrupts, “Does that mean you were watching and saw…everything?” The guys look at each other, suddenly mortified at their onstage antics. “Oh, for sure. We saw everything. She’s gonna be an alcoholic now” you tease just to watch their heart’s sink. Hongjoong shakes his head at them, “Shame on you. For the record, my cup was water.” 

Jongho throws Hongjoong some vicious side eye, “Water, right. Oli, your daddy’s a liar.” “Daddy liar” Oli repeats with a giggle. You dip your head down to hide your own laughter as the guys hit an equally amused Jongho with their towels. Seonghwa casually swipes the baby away from Hongjoong to teach her how to throw a few hits. Hongjoong chases them down as if he’ll never see her again, “Be careful!”

“Joong, she’s fine!” you shout after him, “As long as Hwa has her…oh, no…Mingi unhand my child!” 

“Goodnight stars and goodnight air” Hongjoong reads, flipping the final page of a children’s book, “Goodnight noises everywhere.” He closes the book and Oli cheers, flipping it over for him to read again. Propped up in his lap as he longues in a barely comfortable hotel chair, it’s clear her miniature lids are growing heavy.

“Honey, it’s late. No more Goodnight Moon. Bedtime, okay?” His voice is stern, he means business, but so does she. Oli flips the book open, her hand rubbing the first page. Her bottom lip pokes out and he knows he can’t say no to her. “Fine but one more time and then bed.”

You emerge from the shower in time to hear the story start back up again. “In the great green room…” Hongjoong starts in his bedtime story voice. You move quietly around the room, listening to the story for what’s the 1000th time for you too. As you do, you steal glimpses of them holding hands, turning the pages of the book together. Hongjoong pauses to let Oli read or poke around the pages marveling at the illustrations.

“Is bunny?” she asks, pointing to a figure sitting in a rocking chair. “That is a bunny” he cheers softly, poking his two front teeth out to mimic a rabbit. Oli copies him—it’s sorta her thing these days—making you laugh so hard you snort. “Are you laughing at me?” Hongjoong jokes, his mouth still in perfect bunny formation. It only makes you laugh harder. Your two little bunnies, twins in every way they can be. Especially in their silliness.

You approach the them, planting a kiss on both of their foreheads, “You guys are adorable.” Hongjoong leans his head back, allowing it to rest in the palm of your hand. “You are too. So adorable” he yawns, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. A blink and you miss it moment of silence passes before he speaks again.

“Did I do okay, today?” he asks, his tone more serious now, “I don’t want to…I can’t let everyone down.” “God, no. You were amazing. Look at me” you demand, cradling the sides of his face to keep his anxious gaze from drifting. “You. Were. Amazing” you repeat, “Your fans are so proud of you and your members they love you. And that little bunny down there, she loves you.”

Hongjoong looks at Oli who’s fallen fast asleep against his chest, her hand still in his. “We both love you and you fucking killed it. If anyone says any different I’ll kick their ass” you promise and you mean it. “What’d I ever do to deserve you two?” he asks, kissing your inner wrists. You lean in close to him, your lips hovering just above his, “Exist. That’s all you ever have to do, you know?”

Your lips part to meet his and he welcomes them, sipping down feelings there are no words for and pouring the same into you. “I love you” he whispers and you smile. “I love you too.” Easing the book from between them with mom-like precision, you throw a pillow on the floor and take a seat by Hongjoong’s feet. You open the book and begin to read, not to Oli but to him.

Finally relaxing into the chair, he strokes your hair and listens to the sweet sound of your voice. He balances Oli on his lap, his delicate little gem who treats him like the sun rises and sets in his eyes. He’d long ago sworn that he didn’t think he’d ever have everything. What a frighteningly beautiful realization it is that he finally does.

[surielstea]

Don’t you like me?

Based on this request.

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader has been secretly in love with Eris since she was little, so what happens when she’s to be married off to another in a weeks time and he’s yet to make a move?

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ only | p in v | heavy breeding kink | multi-orgasm | cream pie | dirty talk | use of pet names (bunny, baby) | outdated beliefs | typical autumn court views

A/N: HEAVY smut. Like this is fr the filthiest thing I’ve ever published so hope all you freaks enjoy…

5.9k words

I walked into the dining hall dressed in a stunning gown made from a forest green material that was beyond soft. The bodice was snug and hugged me in all the right places, while the skirt cascaded down in a waterfall of silk, a high slit cutting through the side to show a flash of my leg. I looked like pure perfection.

"Eris," I call to the male who was standing by the window, peering down at the fields, watching over the land like some kind of higher power.

"Hm?" He utters but doesn't cast a glance my way, forming a gaping cavity in my chest.

"Do you like my dress?" I ask, he still doesn't look at me. His arms are crossed over his chest and I can see the tips of his fingers blazing like he's forcing himself to refrain from moving. "The shopkeeper said it looked pretty on me," I smile. "He said it was so perfect that he just had to give me a discount," I add and his ears perk up, head whipping to me. "He?" The protective male asks and a small smile forms on my lips. "At least he had the decency to look at me when I speak to him." I shrug and he bristles, eyes flicking up and down, taking in my dress, my bare leg peering through the slit, the golden earrings he got me for my birthday hanging from my lobes, hair pulled back and out of my face how I knew he liked.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" He takes a step closer and I clasp my hands behind my back, staring up at him innocently. "I'm not sure what you mean, General." I flutter my lashes and a muscle along his jaw feathers.

"Bunny," He grits out and I only continue to stare up at him with curious eyes, the kind I knew made him stumble over his words. "My lord?" I ask with a wondering tone. He swallows thickly and then stones his features. "Are you ready for the ball?" He asks and I hold back from rolling my eyes and instead nod. "Are you?" I ask and he only replies with a sigh, his arm hooking through mine. "Let's get this over with." He muttered, then winnowed us into a crowded ballroom.

I've been trying to get Eris' attention since we were young, but he's always cast me off as a younger sister type, I refused to accept that, so I pushed his buttons. I was the daughter of Beron's most trusted advisor, this ball was put together in order to find me a suitor, every one of these men is here for my hand, I was hoping Eris did something before we got here, hoping he'd say something, anything. But he didn't. So we stood in the center of the ballroom and stared ahead of us at Beron who sat on his throne, my father at his side.

The both of them gave me foxlike grins and I gulped down the anxiety lodged in my throat, hand tightening around Eris' as we approached the dais.

"My lord," I curtsy to the high lord while Eris bows. "Rise girl, today is your day." He hums in a grating voice I've grown to hate. I flick my eyes back up to the eldest Vanserra and do as he says, Eris as well. "I cannot thank you enough for putting on this event for me, I'm beyond grateful," I say to him in a light tone, a polite grin on my face. My father hasn't so much as spared me a glance so I don't look at him either.

"Yes well, you've been of age for some time now haven't you?" He shifts in his throne as if his legs could spread any wider. "I have, my lord." I bow my head. "I have no doubt you'll be able to find an eligible suitor tonight, you look absolutely ravishing." He grins and that expression has never made me more nauseous. Eris' hand tightens on mine and I realize he's still holding it. "I've handpicked all of the males attending tonight, do me a favor, and don't let that work go to waste." He instructs and I nod, his eyes then fall between Eris and I, where our hands are linked. Eris reacts before I can even notice, his hand slipping from mine. My breath hitched for a moment and I turned to look up at him with slightly creased brows. His expression remains stoic as he continues to stare ahead, not daring to meet my gaze.

"Go on," Beron waves us away. I curtsy once more before spinning on my heel, expecting Eris to follow after me but he stayed behind, joining his father's other side on the dais. It was hard to watch so I didn’t look any longer and direction my line of sight to the sea of men waiting for my attention.

I ball my hands into fists before shaking them out as I stare at all the males with beckoning eyes, wanting to be picked for the first dance.

Traditionally I'd dance with the high lord, but the older male didn't seem to have an interest in upholding said tradition, so it was my pick. How generous.

My eyes snag on a head of strawberry-blonde hair in the back. Langdon, a fair-skinned male with piercing green eyes and a gangly figure, I've known him since I was a girl— had a crush on him since his family came into nobility. He was kind, or rather, as kind as they got in the Autumn Court. He wasn't looking my way, this was my ball and he still wasn't looking my way. Why is it that I always wanted men who hold no interest in me?

I look behind me to spot Eris already staring, his fingers anxiously twisting the golden ring around his pinky finger. One of his tells, that one specifically informed me that he was nervous. Over what? I had no idea, but some buried part of me wanted to place my hands over his and tell him there was nothing to worry about.

I shove the feeling down and turn back to the crowd of males who seemed to now stand a whole yard closer.

I was only thankful Beron didn't choose for me, or worse, my father.

Fortunately, Langdon was looking at me now. Our gazes catch and I give the slightest dip of my head. The males who understood they hadn't been picked dispersed, leaving Langdon and I parallel to each other.

The music begins and I remain where I stand, waiting for the male to approach me instead. Once he gets to my side he offers his hand and I take it with little hesitation, the chorus of the song starts and our waltz begins.

I've been trained my entire life for this, my father has made sure I was educated on every custom and tradition of how Autumn Court females must behave, should I step a toe out of line he'd be there to reprimand me, whether that meant physically or mentally.

I knew every dance like the back of my hand, memorized how each dress was hemmed, could do each house chore with my eyes closed, and recite exactly where my place was to anyone who asked— it's been beaten into me so many times it'd be a parody to forget. I belong beside my husband, raising his children. That was it. That's all I've been told I'm any good for.

"I won't ask for your hand," Langdon hums mid-step and I look up to him with curious eyes. I'd be lying if a pang of hurt didn't run through my chest. "And why not?" I ask, my dress swirling around me as he twirls me around. "I won't tie you down, I refuse." He shakes his head and my heart aches. "So you'll let someone else then?" I suggest and he swallows, clearly not thinking of the others. "It's not like that," He sighs. "You wouldn't be happy with me." He explains with guilt simmering in his eyes. "So you'll subject me to being unhappy with another just because of your own selfishness?" I presume and his brows raise a fraction. "No," He shakes his head. "I'll subject you to make your own decision because you're in love with another," He claims and my breathing halts for a moment.

I go quiet, silently taking myself through the steps I've been doing since I was a child. "I'm not sure what you mean." I finally manage to get out. "Oh c’mon, it's obvious to every male here except him." The blonde scoffs and I refrain from rolling my eyes, he is preaching to the choir.

"Even if you're right," The music stops and so do we. I stare up at him with an unwavering amount of elegance. "I can't have him," I whisper and he squares his features. "I won't tie you down." He repeats, believing he's doing me a favor by pulling himself from the equation. "I understand." I nod, even if I don't want to, then I curtsy one last time towards the male and take another's hand.

I went through at least ten more tedious males after that and nearly twenty tiresome waltzes before I was allowed a break. I loved to dance, sure, but not like this. Not in a ballroom full of predators. I miss when it was just Eris and me when he'd meet me here at midnight and we'd sway, following no choreography but rather flowing to the music, improvising to whatever song played. I could still feel the way his warm arms wrapped around me, how he cradled me to his chest while we talked softly about anything and everything. That was the Eris I knew, that was the Eris I loved. Not this mask made for the public, the one his father forced him to be.

I was startled from my daze by a hand coming to my forearm. I jump slightly and turn to the figure at my side. "Apologies for disturbing you, my lady," A brunette male I wish I could recall the name of stood before me. He was the sixth male I danced with, we waltzed three times if I remember correctly.

"No worries," I shake my head with a polite smile. "I've spoken to your father," He swallows nervously and I glance to the dais where Beron and my father were but Eris no longer was.

"He's consented to my asking for your hand," The male explains and my head snaps back to him, brows slightly raised. The brunette wasn't unattractive by any means, in fact, he was quite handsome, but he's not who I want him to be— guilt forms in my stomach at the thought. Langdon had been right.

A hand comes down onto my shoulder before I can think of a reply, but I don't startle this time. Because I could recognize that scent of warm cinnamon and campfire embers from anywhere, along with the feel of his large, calloused hand, the touch was beyond familiarity.

"Sorry to interrupt," A baritone voice purrs and my eyes light up. "But I need to borrow her for a moment," His hand slides down my arm protectively and I have to hold back from scoffing, he had the nerve to ignore me all night but as soon as another male shows interest, he comes over to claim me.

"Of course my lord," The brunette bows his head respectfully. "Go on then," He shoos and I whirl around to face the heir as the other male skitters away. "Are you serious?" I cross my arms over my chest, staring up at the redhead who had a smirk plastered onto his features. "That's the first proposal I've gotten all night!" I say with a hush and his smirk only widens. "Oh I know, you have no idea how hard it is to fend them off." He grumbled like it was a weight on his shoulders. My eyes widen as I stare at him in shock. "Are you kidding— What's the point of this event if you're scaring off every interested suitor?" I crease my brows, hands dropping to my hips.

Eris' head whips to the dais where both of our fathers are intently watching us. "C'mon," The heir grabs me by my wrist. "We need somewhere private." He decides, pulling me through the length of the ballroom, my protests are halfhearted, not minding the idea of getting away from this place. He pulled us into a sectioned-off alcove that was secluded enough for him to winnow us elsewhere.

My feet landed on dark wooden tiles, stood in the master bedroom of Eris' apartment on the outskirts of Autumn that not even Beron knew about.

"Why are you fending them off?" I question, narrowing my eyes at him skeptically. He shrugs with a stoic expression, looking towards the unlit fireplace at our right. "The people my father picked," He starts. "None of them can be good." He explains and I grit my teeth. "He picked Langdon." I excuse and Eris nearly growls at the name. "Langdon is a prick and he doesn't deserve you," Eris states like it's a fact. "He's nice to me," I mutter softly. "The bare minimum isn't something you should settle for." His brows straighten and something evil churns in the pit of my stomach. "Well, it's not like I have many options." I square my features, glaring up at him and maintaining my ground.

He hasn’t done anything up until now and as soon as I show any fraction of interest in someone else he comes to swoop me away? It was unfair. He doesn't reply, his fists clench at his sides but they quickly loosen when he sees the line of tears in my waterline threatening to spill. "You think I want to marry any of these males? It's not my choice, it's never been my choice." My hands come up to his chest, gripping the cleanly pressed shirt. "You've always had a choice," His hands come to my wrists. I nearly laugh. "Are you serious? Who are you to tell me about choices? You have no idea what it's like to be a fucking doll Eris, I'm a broodmare who's only used for my body and when that's not good enough anymore, I'm nothing." My words come out in a rasp, my fingers clenching his shirt and wrinkling it.

"Don't stand there and tell me I have a choice when you've done nothing to stop me from getting sold off to the highest bidder." My tears are now falling but I don't care, I have too little energy to wipe them away— so he does, his warm hands I wish I didn't find comfort in come to my cheeks and his thumbs brush away the salty tears with the most delicacy I've ever seen him display. "If you won't do anything now I strongly doubt you'll do anything when I'm someone else's," I murmur and his eyes fall into something of terror.

"I'm sorry." He confesses and my heart sputters, I've only ever heard Eris Vanserra apologize for two things in his lifetime, and this was one of them. "You’re right. I should've done more." He confesses. "I tried," He mutters. "I offered to sleep with you— they'd mark you as impure and banish you from the forest house, you could've run away." He explains. "But that's not enough, I should've done more." His hands remain on my cheeks. "Don't you get it?" My hands splay flat on his abdomen. "I don't want more, I just wanted you," I confess and his breathing halts. I think I've truly done myself in, but there was no use holding it any longer. I'll be married off by the end of the week and probably won't see Eris again until our separate children are having playdates. None of this mattered.

"What?" He croaks out and I swallow. "I wanted you," I repeated and I swore his eyes flashed with relief. His hands remain on my face, fingertips slightly warming as he dissects his thoughts. "I thought I made it obvious," I say. "But you never did anyth—" My words are cut off as his lips crash into mine with a foreign passion.

His hands pull me closer and my breathing stops as I realize what's happening. He's kissing me. I move to kiss him back, hands snaking up from his chest and to his shoulders where I wrap around the back of his neck and pull him closer, his chest pressing into mine as he backs me up towards the wall until I'm flat against it.

He doesn't back away for a moment like he needs the heat of my lips or he'll freeze without it. His brows crease as he kisses me with intent, not wanting this moment to end in case it gets torn away from him.

"Eris," I pant out as I back away. "I thought you hated me," I admit and his eyes soften. "Hate you?" His hands hold tighter to my jaw. "No bunny, never." His head shakes and he pulls me in again, placing a soft yet lasting kiss on my lips. "Wait," I back away and he immediately halts. "What are you saying?" I try to piece everything together but it's no use.

"I want you." He confesses and my stomach does backflips. "Want me?" I rasp out in pure disbelief. "Need you." He corrects and my heart lurches into my throat, his lips reconnect with mine, and this time his tongue swipes along my bottom lip, hands coming to the bottoms of my thighs as he hoists me up and presses my back to the wall, legs coming back to wrap tightly around his hips as his tongue explores every undiscovered crook and crevice like he needed to memorize me before I disappeared.

"Eris we can't," I whisper into his lips and he shakes his head. "I won't let them have you." He defends and my heart crumbles into two. "This is going to ruin me," I admit, tears still streaming from my eyes. "We'll figure it out." He promises and a lump forms in my throat. He backs away to look at my teary expression, brows creasing as he stares at my disgruntled gaze. "I'll be banished from this court," I murmur. As much as I hated the people here, this is my home. I didn't want to just up and leave. "Noble blood or not I'll be marked a whore, it's out of wedlock." I sighed and a soft smile graced his features as he began to pepper kisses along the side of my face, kissing my salty tears away. "I suppose we'll have to get married then." He hums and I place my hand on his jaw pushing him back. "I'll have Beron off his throne soon, the night court's Spymaster and I have already devised a plan. It'll work." He reassures, running his hand through my hair.

"I'll marry you right now, we can go out and find a priestess and I'll have you as my High Lady." He promised and my brows crease as he describes something too good to be true. "Or we can do all that in the morning," He whispers. "Because it's awfully hard to not need you while you're in this dress." He hums and I smile, my tears gone, all kissed away. "I won't let them have you." He repeats, stressing his words, and I believe him, so I nod.

His lips surge back onto mine and I push away the thoughts of the repercussions and let myself enjoy every moment of this.

His hands grip the underside of my thighs and he pushes me harder against the wall, pressing his chest to mine and kissing me with the purpose I craved. I tighten my hold around the back of his neck and wrap my legs around him, my dress in the way— I need him closer, so much closer.

"Eris, please," I whine and he nods, understanding what I want. He pushes off the wall and carries me to his bed, laying me down on my back, I arch up and his hands pull at the strings of my corset. So many layers, too many between us. I work at the buttons of his shirt, slowly revealing his toned, muscular chest.

The way he kissed me was hungry like he's been constraining himself for far too long. He gets my corset undone and I finally feel like I can breathe. Clothes are thrown into every corner of the room as he rips my skirts off and I move to the ties of his pants. Once we're clad in nothing but skin he mounts over me, his heavy, hard cock pressing against my abdomen. It was hot and quick and had everything I needed.

His hand cups over my heat, calloused fingers diving into my folds, adding friction I didn't know I needed. "Eris," I whine and he grunts at the way my name rolls off his tongue, the desperation in my voice making his cock leak pre-cum. "Fuck, you sound so perfect moaning my name." He sighs out, two of his long fingers finding my entrance, and before I can reply they plunge deep inside of me. I bite down on my bottom lip, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes due to the foreign stretch. His fingers were long, and thick, and felt so fucking good.

I yelped as his calloused thumb came down onto my clit, tracing tight circles around it. I hissed at the pain, how he stretched me out, preparing me for his cock. “I’m sorry bunny, I’ll make love to you next time I promise,” He whispers into the shell of my ear and I whimper, the intense feeling consuming me as he curls his fingers, flicking them against my sensitive walls. “Next time?” I ask my words barely a rasp. “That’s right,” He kisses my cheek, getting rid of a tear there. “But right now I need to fuck you, I’ve wanted this for so fuckin’ long I can’t hold back,” He grunts, his voice laced with pure lust. “You understand don’t you bunny?” He says, kissing down my jaw to my neck where he nipped at the sensitive skin, all I can do is nod, praying he doesn’t stop.

His fingers brush over a sensitive, spongy spot and I gasp, my back involuntarily arching at the feeling. “Right there, Eris, my god—” My breath hitched as he toyed with the area. My legs jolted and I was so close, I had never orgasmed off someone’s hand alone before yet here the heir was, finger fucking me right into my high.

“That’s it, baby, need you nice and wet for me,” He hums, sucking marks onto my neck. I whine and my cunt pulsated with an impending release. My nails dig into his large bicep, brows creasing as I teeter on that euphoric high. I clench tighter around his fingers and he does something wicked with his thumb against my clit, pushing me over into my orgasm. Waves of pleasure slam into me as I finally release and reach that climax, and when I do, it’s Eris’ name on my lips.

“That’s it, you did so well,” He praises, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I finally came down from my high and his fingers slowed, pulling them from my entrance, lathered in my slick. “Think you’re ready for me?” He asks, lathering his cock with my arousal left on his hand. Words fail me. I couldn’t even look at it without feeling overwhelmed, I was sure he’d split me in half.

“We can go slow,” He promised but gods I didn’t want slow, I wanted to make him feel good.

I shook my head and he arched his brow. “No?” He tilts his head. “I don’t w’na go slow, Eris,” I murmur and he leans closer, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Oh yeah? Tell me what you want then bunny,” He prompts, nudging me with his nose to go on— but his cock was pressed against my heat and it was hot, so fucking hot I felt like I was on fire. “Want— wanna make you feel good,” I mumble and a foxlike grin spreads across his face. His forearm comes down beside my head, propping himself above me, his face mere inches from mine. “Do you now?” The male asks. “And how are you g’na make me feel good?” He questions and I swallow thickly. “Uhm,” I utter, suddenly very shy under his gaze. “Don’t be nervous, I’m not gonna judge I promise,” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Well— it’s just, usually on wedding nights in the autumn court the male feels compulsive to, breed, the female,” I swallow thickly and I swear his amber eyes flash golden for a moment.

“Is that what you want bunny? Want me to breed you?” He says and I flush hot. “Never mind, forget it,” I bring my hands up to my face, covering my red cheeks. “Oh baby it’s too late,” He grabs my wrists in one of his hands, lifting them above my head and pinning them there commandingly. I whimper in reply. “Your safe word is firelight okay?” He says as he kisses down my neck and all I can do is nod. “Good, now turn around for me,” He lets go of my wrists and I do as he says, flipping over onto my stomach, hiking my knees up, and arching my back as much as I could, giving him perfect entrance. He grinned at my obedience, patience waning as he admired how good I was being for him.

The unlit hearth from earlier was now roaring with flames, even though I told Eris to do whatever he wanted with me he was still holding back, redirecting his power elsewhere.

“C’mon Eris, don’t be mean,” I whine as he leans over me, pressing a gentle kiss to my shoulder blade. “Poor bunny, so needy,” He whispers beside my ear and I grip the sheets in my fists at the demeaning tone of his voice. “Please,” I murmur. “Please what? Say it, baby,” His hands come to my hips, his thumbs kneading the plushness of my ass. “Breed me,” I utter, barely even a whisper but it was enough to make whatever was restraining his break, and he snapped.

His heavy cock slaps against my folds, dragging himself through them, lathering himself in my arousal for easier entrance though I’m certain I was wet enough already.

He aligns his fat tip with my core and without any further warning, he drives into me, pushing the head of his impressive cock deep inside of me. I nearly screamed at the sensation, biting at my lower lip hard enough to cause blood. “Eris,” I mewl, my nails clawing at the sheets. One of his hands reaches over me and intertwines with the back of my palm, his other hand finding purchase at my breast, gripping it harshly, his calloused, large hands kneading it pleasantly.

“Fuck, you’re so gods’ damned tight,” He curses, his forehead resting against the back of my shoulder as he continues to push himself inside of me, and fuck was he so big, I could feel my walls hugging him, could feel every ridge and vein along him as he molded into me. Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes at how good it hurt, he had me filled to the brim and there was still more of him.

I throw my head back in exasperation, a moan escaping from the base of my throat. “All of you, want more,” I confess and I feel him smile against the skin of my shoulder blade, before he angles his hips back, pulling out to his fat tip, laying one last kiss to my back then slamming in, hitting home. He groaned at the feeling, tears streamed down my face, falling onto the pillow beneath me as I grip his hand tighter, he reciprocates it but his thrusts don’t slow, no, he’s pounding into me and I loved every second of it.

“Eris— Ah,” My breath hitched. “I can’t, s’too much,” I hiss but he doesn’t stop, his hips drive deeper and I pulse around him. His base slammed into mine, tight balls smacking into my folds as he hammered me from behind. I gasp as his slit brushes over my cervix. Oxygen leaves me and I fist the sheets, screaming his name once I find my voice. “You feel that bunny? Feel me stretching you on my cock?” He hums beside my ear and I struggle to even think about anything but his cock.

He can’t help but continue to knock the area over and over again, it made him feral, and the way I squirmed beneath him had his cock twitching.

Gods he was so close to my womb, so close he could practically release directly into it. “I’m gonna fill you up so fuckin’ full, baby,” He grits out, his hold on my breast tightening. “Please,” I beg, needing him to release me inside. “I’m so close I can’t, I can’t take it—” I cry, tears free flowing as his thrusts grow faster, harder. “That’s too bad my sweet girl,” He purred. “Cause you’re g’na take me until you’re full of my cum, isn’t that right bunny?” He nips at the lobe of my ear and I nod with a pitiful whimper, feeling myself drip onto his cock, he was fucking me stupid.

The sound of his fat cock injecting into me over and over again mixed with the way his tight balls slapped against my folds left my pussy drooling on him. “You just love to milk my cock hm?” He said. “You take me so well, can’t wait to get you so full,” He grunts out and I grow hot, the knot in my stomach tightening.

“Eris I have to, I need to,” I pant out, sweat lining my forehead at how good he was slamming into me, pressing against my cervix every time and rubbing against that sweet, spongy spot. “Not yet,” He orders, and I whine in protest, brows furrowing as I fight off my orgasm and focus on pleasing him, squeezing around his cock, slowly beginning to lift away from him, then push myself back down onto him.

“Oh gods, yes, fuck yourself on my cock,” He groaned in pure ecstasy. I go faster, feeling his cock twitch as he watches the way my ass shakes, his cock disappearing inside my slit as I bounce on him. “Such a good bunny, just want me to come inside you so bad huh?” He taunts and I nod helplessly, mewls lifting from my lips as he grips my breast, my other bouncing due to my gyrations. “Ah, wait, baby,” His voice gets caught in his throat and I smile wildly at the sound. “You sure? About me cumming inside?” He grits out through closed teeth and I nod.

“Fuck yes, Eris. Give me your kids please,” I whimper and it makes him fucking feral. He somehow goes faster, reaching a primal state with an urge to breed, to make me mine in every way he can. “Your belly’s g’na get so round,” He mutters into the shell of my ear and I pant in reply, unable to form coherent words. “Fuck, can’t wait for your tits to start leaking,” He curses and a moan tears through the base of my throat. “I can’t— I’m gonna—” I can’t even finish my sentence before I’m convulsing around him and I reach my climax. He’s quick to follow, he kisses my cervix once more then shoots his release straight into my womb, panting heavily with a groan to match my whine, he paints my walls white and his seed was so fucking hot, like he just set me aflame from the inside out.

“Fuck,” He grunts out, forehead resting on my shoulder. It was a miracle I was still holding myself up, my arms were on the verge of buckling and if he wasn’t cradling my waist I probably would’ve crumbled the moment I found release.

Slowly, he slips out of me, his seed dripping down my thighs as he does so. A whimper slips past my quivering lips as his cock brushes through my folds one last time, then he slowly guides me down onto the bed, heavy breathing filling the room as the fire in the hearth dwindles.

“You did so fucking good for me baby,” He praises, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips that I return with all the energy I can muster, which wasn’t a whole lot. He smiles at this, brushing a strand of hair away from my tear-stained cheeks. “Awe, m’sorry I went so rough bunny, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” He reassured and I shook my head. “No, s’okay, felt good,” I sigh contentedly. “Yeah?” He tilts his head and I nod with a gentle smile. “My gods you’re perfect for me,” He bends down and presses his lips to mine, more passionate this time, conveying all his love in that action. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” He murmurs against my lips and I nod, not worrying about what awaits in that ballroom, too preoccupied with enjoying the moment with my soon-to-be husband.

After the sheets were changed and I was dressed in a silky nightgown I was finally able to lay my head on a pillow. It was a mystery how I didn’t fall asleep standing up. Eris slid beneath the covers beside me, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer to him with a small grin.

“Tonight turned out a lot better than I thought,” He joked and I giggled, looking up at him with tired eyes. I look down at his chest, tracing random shapes on his bicep as my smile slowly morphs into a frown. “Hey, what’s wrong baby?” His big hand comes to my jaw, rubbing along my cheek and tilting my head up to him. “Nothing,” I shake my head, burrowing into his warmth. “Talk to me,” He urges, waiting for my response. “Why didn’t you ever show interest before tonight?” I ask softly, glancing up at his eyes that were staring down at me with so much adoration it was almost overwhelming.

“This just feels so surreal, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. It feels wrong to have it,” I explain further and his gaze softens. “You deserve my love and so much more my sweet,” He presses a hard kiss to the crown of my head. “And I couldn’t show any interest 'cause I didn’t want my father taking you away from me,” He confesses and I swallow thickly, my hand intertwining with his. “He won’t take me,” I promise, even if I didn’t know for certain. “No, he won’t, I know that now,” He reassures, pecking my cheek lovingly and I blush.

“My pretty fiancée,” He grins boyishly and I mirror it, finally being with the male I’ve been in love with for decades, I had him in my arms and I wasn’t going to let him go no matter what force tried to take him from me. I’m his as he is mine, and that’s all I could ask for.

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[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 23 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, mentions of drugs (nothing graphic), descriptive SMUT (pet names and a sprinkle of worship included, beware), fluff and too much flirting to be allowed, some angst, SLOW BURN

words: 19.8k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 23 ► in this open warfare, i won't fight fair, and in your waking moments, i will be there

The next morning, you and Jungkook took Minjun, Luna, and Maggie to a small restaurant—unreasonably far from your hotel in London—to have a late breakfast and to plot. The five of you were a lot more concerned with the latter, and the bacon and egg sandwiches on your plates were relegated to mere decoration.

You had already discussed your plan with Luna and Maggie over the phone last night, but you wanted to meet everyone in person to ensure you were all on the same page, and to inform Jungkook of his role (which was intentionally non-existent).

You believed that the fewer members of Rated Riot got tangled up in Sid’s slimy web, the lower the risk of collateral damage. Ideally, you would have left Jungkook out entirely. But his friendship with Sid made him a linchpin in the machinations of your scheme—he would be the most affected if something went awry.

“This plan relies heavily on the circumstances, I admit,” you said, while your friends feigned interest in their food to avoid the disapproving glances of the restaurant staff. “But maybe that will work to our advantage because we will hardly have to do anything. We will draw the authorities’ attention to Sid, and that’s it. He’ll do the rest himself.”

“Yeah,” Minjun added as your primary accomplice in this scheme. He was busy trying to stop his napkins from blowing away in the fierce wind on the restaurant’s terrace. “And that’s why we need Jude to let us into their hotel room—”

“Wait,” had become Jungkook’s new favourite word. He used it now, too. “And are we sure that Jude won’t change his mind?”

Maggie and Luna turned to you, mirroring Jungkook’s skepticism.

“We’re not,” you admitted. You were aware of the risk, but time has never been more of the essence, and Jude was your best option. “We’re not telling him too much and hoping for the best.”

“And to be honest,” Minjun added, “the fact that she gave him that laundry list of shit to do—”

“Wait,” Jungkook said again. “What list?”

You waved off his question, but Minjun answered on your behalf, clinging to this as if it was the only convincing evidence the five of you had against Jude changing his mind.

“Like, vitamins and stuff,” he explained. “To ease his withdrawals. I don’t know if he followed her instructions, but anyone could see how much it meant to him, just the fact that she cared enough. Maybe that’ll be what keeps him on our side, even though he’s back with Sid right now.”

Maggie wrinkled her nose in clear disapproval, although you knew she would have reacted the same way if she’d seen Jude—her heart was bigger than her head, bless her.

“He’s done nothing to deserve this from you,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, he—yeah,” Jungkook agreed, the confidence in his voice wavering as he alternated between gratitude for your concern about Jude, and guilt for putting you in this position. “You didn’t have to help him.”

“He’s really not doing well,” you said. “And don’t think I’m so kind, I acted largely out of my own self-interest. We need him for our plan.”

Jungkook recalled Jude’s sneezing, his shivers in forty-degree heat, and his nausea. All of his symptoms always came and went without warning, but the memory of someone going out of their way for him was likely to stay.

“Okay,” Jungkook acquiesced. “That’s—let’s keep going.”

“We won’t need to involve Jude every step of the way, though, right?” Luna clarified. “I mean, I assumed we’d mainly need him to get rid of whatever Sid has in his phone gallery.”

“Yeah, but not just—we’re not just deleting the videos with Jungkook,” you said, glancing at Minjun, who had supported you wholeheartedly when you mentioned this part of the plan to him. He nodded now, too, encouraging you to explain. “We’ll delete everything he has in his Cloud storage and factory reset his phone. I doubt Sid had enough sense to back up his files to an external drive, so this will clear every copy of everything he has on there.”

Maggie’s eyes finally lit up with lively excitement, Luna nodded in agreement, and you felt a smile forming on your own lips, too.

Jungkook, on the other hand, appeared almost disappointed.

“W-we don’t have to go through all of this just to delete those videos,” he said, fixing his gaze on his untouched cup of matcha latte; the artwork on the surface had begun to blur. “Those things happened. I did all of that shit, and Sid recorded it. That’s who I was back then, and maybe I shouldn’t try to—”

You interrupted his words—the ones you’d already heard before—with a gentle touch of your hand over his restless fingers, and Jungkook stilled, turning to you.

“No, those videos are not who you are. You are the one who decides who you are,” you reiterated once more and the table fell silent around you as if everyone had witnessed something they were not supposed to. “And if you want to leave those things in the past, you should be able to. Sid has no right to bring it up now.”

“But if we lock Sid up,” he persisted, “then maybe those videos won’t matter anyway.”

“He could publish them,” Minjun countered. “He sent them directly to you now, but he could post them publicly later. I’m sure he’d find a way to do that even behind bars.”

Jungkook felt a rush of dizziness and he was very grateful that you’d pressed your hand on his. Minjun was right. Sid had done something like this before when he’d posted your picture; he clearly wasn’t above making private matters public.

“We would leave the videos be, let Sid have them, whatever,” you continued, reading the colour on his face, “but he wants to use them against you. He’s cutting them up to paint you as an irresponsible asshole. And you’re not an asshole, Jungkook.”

“Yeah,” Minjun agreed. “And I talked to Jude about an hour ago. He sounded sober, which is shocking to me, but, anyway—Sid has plans to go out tonight, so Jude should be able to do this tomorrow morning while Sid’s still passed out.”

The whole terrace of the restaurant seemed to hold its breath in anticipation as soon as he said that, the clink of cutlery and the muffled chatter around you growing tense.

Jungkook, even dizzier now, turned back to you once more. You gave him a small nod.

He took a breath and nodded back. “Okay. Alright. Fine. Let’s do it.”

“Good!” Maggie cheered from across the table. She turned to Jungkook, and you watched as her reassuring tone chased the last doubts from his eyes. “Even without those videos, we need to do this to get back at Sid. And I know this will do just that. I’d be tearing my hair out if someone cleansed my Cloud.”

You noticed that Maggie was much more vigilant with her phone today, hardly letting it out of her sight. She’d improved her security measures and had to enter her passcode every time she wanted to reply to a text today, because the facial recognition struggled to recognise the wind in her hair. This was the reason she hadn’t bothered with it before, but Sid had taught her a valuable lesson.

You gave your friend an agreeing nod and settled against the back of your chair.

Luna sat on your other side, leaning her elbows on the table, and she quickly noted the way Jungkook’s eyes widened when you pulled back, as if you had torn off a piece of his skin. She glanced at Maggie, who noticed nothing and kept checking the time on her phone as if she was late for another meeting to plan someone’s arrest.

Somewhat disappointed, Luna turned back to you, her grin doubling in size to compensate for her lack of company in teasing you.

“One big problem,” you said, focused on the intricacies of your plan and, therefore, unaware of your surroundings, “lies in our next steps. If we manage to get Sid arrested, he will likely weaponise his friendship with Jungkook. He’ll try to make it seem like they’re as close as brothers, and if he’s going to jail for meth possession, then Jungkook is probably doing drugs, too.”

You pulled your phone out from your bag and allowed for the weight of your words to settle on the table like a heavy grey tablecloth while you opened your gallery.

“So, this morning,” you continued, “Maggie and I put something together. This is a list of people who are banned from Rated Riot’s shows.”

You passed your phone to Luna first. She looked at the screen, nodded, and handed the phone to Maggie, who smiled to herself right away—she had designed the layout of the list and was very pleased with it.

By the time your phone reached Jungkook, he was already squirming in his chair. As he examined the list of names, displayed in bold white letters on a black background with a crumpled paper texture that Maggie had crafted and digitalised herself, he realised that the only name he recognised was Sid’s.

He looked up. “But if you post that—that’s—isn’t it supposed to be confidential?”

“I won’t post it,” you said. “We’ll leak it.”

“Oh.” A gleam of affection suddenly sparkled in his eyes. He felt a little like he’d just met you for the first time, all over again. “Can we do that?

Maggie reached across the table, snatching your phone from Jungkook’s hand to see the picture of the list again. She scrutinised the names for a minute as if trying to uncover the social security numbers of the people listed.

“No,” you replied. “But Sid never played fair, so we’re simply levelling the playing field. The other names on the list are made up anyway. They’re generic enough to match someone on Facebook, but no one will know which person is on this list.”

“But they’ll recognise Sid,” Maggie pointed out, squinting at your phone. “Even though he’s listed as Isidore here. Right?”

“That’s him, yeah,” you confirmed. “And you’re right. Everyone will recognise Sid. We’ll leak this before he gets arrested, and anything he says after that will just be taken as blatant slander.”

Jungkook took another deep breath and glanced at your phone, which Maggie slid towards you across the table. It bumped against the corner of your empty water glass.

“Won’t there be consequences if something else leaks?” he asked, his teeth grazing his bottom lip.

“Yeah, I was thinking that, too,” you admitted. “But then, Luna texted me a brilliant idea last night.”

You gestured towards your friend, and she continued.

“It’ll be accidental,” she explained. “Maggie usually posts backstage pictures on her Instagram. She has almost as many followers as the main account of your band at this point. So, later today, she will post a new set of pictures, and this list of names will just happen to be visible in some shots. Just a coincidence, really. And then we hope that one of your fans will notice it, zoom in, catch Sid’s name, and share it.”

Jungkook looked down, nodding to himself. He realised that Sid stood little chance against the collective resolve of everyone at this table.

“They will notice it,” he said. “I don’t doubt it.”

“We’ll have to rely on them to spread this,” you added. “Even though this list isn’t really something we need to hide. It’s just, you know, sort of customary in the industry to keep your dirty laundry to yourself.”

“Alright,” Jungkook said, sensing the weight of everyone’s gaze on him. He had the feeling that everyone was waiting for his final approval to move forward with this plan. “So, uh, Maggie won’t get into trouble for posting it?”

“Hmm?” Maggie looked up from her phone at the sound of her name. “Oh. No. I’m the photographer. As long as I get good shots, I never get in trouble. And this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve taken a picture that reveals more than I intended.”

She gave you a sheepish look, and you shook your head, sensing where the guilt in her eyes stemmed from. Maggie knew that Sid was behind the chaos caused by the bathtub picture, but she still felt a gnawing sense of responsibility because she was the one who had taken the picture.

“Alright. You, uh—you guys really put a lot of thought into this,” Jungkook remarked, looking at you first, then at your friends, and finally at Minjun on his other side. “I’m, uh—I-I’m actually a little afraid of you.”

Luna and Minjun snickered—Maggie was back on her phone, but she was smiling, too—and their excitement made you feel much more optimistic.

“Good,” you said, reaching out to touch Jungkook’s hand again. He immediately turned his hand round and firmly clasped yours—to ensure you wouldn’t pull away this time. “Sid should be, too.”

A tense silence settled over the table, punctuated by the subdued conversations on the terrace.

For the first time since you arrived at the restaurant, Jungkook finally took a sip of his coffee. It tasted bitter and lukewarm. You refrained from touching yours, but accepted a bite of Luna’s tiramisu. Everyone else at the table seemed to remember simultaneously that they had ordered food when they got here.

“Uh,” Maggie spoke up after a second, still chewing on the brown crust of her bacon and egg tart. “Is this a safe space for us to voice our, uh, concerns?”

You straightened in your seat, bracing yourself before she’s even said anything. Jungkook sensed your growing anxiety and squeezed your hand.

“Of course,” you replied, keeping your voice steady.

“Okay.” Maggie swallowed and set down her fork after taking exactly one and a half bites. “Well, I’m worried that Sid will say something provocative and one of us will end up getting arrested for assault.”

There was something absurdly comical in her question—or the potential outcome it suggested—and you could see Minjun quickly lower his head to conceal his broad smile.

Jungkook, meanwhile, was extremely pleased that no one turned to look at him, the person who had, more or less, already assaulted Sid before. It comforted him to know that everyone here would have loved to smack Sid upright in the head, too.

“That’s a great point,” you said, clearing your throat. “If he provokes you—well, then you might have a legitimate reason to, uh, land a good punch. You probably wouldn’t be held in custody too long for that. There’s no premeditation, you acted on impulse because of something he said.”

Minjun raised an eyebrow at you from across the table.

“I thought our focus was drug laws,” he said. “Did you research assault, too?”

“I researched assault laws the day I met Sid,” you deadpanned.

He snorted. “Yeah, fair enough.”

“Not to mention, we can always argue it’s self-defence,” Luna added, prodding her sandwich with a toothpick as if it were a not-quite-dead bug. “Sid is very—let’s say, aggressive.”

“That’s true,” Minjun agreed. “Especially when he’s irritated.”

The energy around the table had increased considerably; everyone seemed to have something to say about possible reasons to hit Sid. Maggie was already listing five ways to throw a punch that would knock out your opponent—she had a WikiHow article open and was illustrating it with enthusiastic demonstrations on Minjun.

You realised, quite suddenly, how happy you were to sit here with your friends. They were smart and cunning enough to rob a bank, escape a prison, and start a money laundering scheme all in a week, but they chose to be sweet and loving and a little vengeful instead. You felt almost giddy.

“He wouldn’t throw the first punch, though,” Jungkook interjected with a hint of frustrated sorrow. Maggie halted her research, retracting her fist from Minjun’s cheek. “He’ll just keep running his mouth until you strike him. And he’ll make sure the provocation is very minimal.”

“Well, sure, but who at this table will attest to any of that?” Luna questioned, undeterred. “Everyone who witnessed Sid throwing the first punch, raise your hands.”

All of you raised your hands in perfect synchronisation, and Jungkook felt himself smile again.

He had never doubted the success of your plan, even if he doubted the details. But sitting here now, while all of you held your hands up, he was fully convinced that this meeting marked the beginning of the end for Sid.

“Right. Okay,” he said. “I like how this is looking.”

“Me too,” Maggie said, locking her phone and slouching in her chair. “I feel better now. Didn’t want to spend the night at the police station.”

“You wouldn’t,” Luna assured her. “We’d bail you out.”

She snickered. “That’s good to—”

Jungkook suddenly jumped up in his chair, interrupting her.

“What about Sid’s bail?” he asked urgently. “Can he—could he pay for his release?”

Everyone at the table turned to you once more. When you and Minjun did your research yesterday, your focus had quickly turned from penalties to potential loopholes that Sid might use with his money, so you understood their sudden concern.

“No,” you said. “Apparently, it doesn’t work like that here. They would give him bail automatically; he wouldn’t have to pay. But they need to charge him with a specific offence first, and they won’t know the exact charges until they know what, uh, substances he was carrying on him and keeping in his hotel room—oh, and how much. Not to mention, bail may be denied if there is a risk that he’ll commit further crimes. And we know Sid is violent. He will not sit idly in his little cell.”

“Yeah,” Minjun agreed. “We’re 95% sure he won’t be given bail.”

You nodded, grateful for his confidence.

“So, we definitely won’t be in London by the time they charge him,” Maggie concluded, frowning. She regretted not ordering whiskey instead of espresso; alcohol helped her think.

“Definitely not,” you confirmed. “Our plan concludes with Sid’s arrest, everything else is not our problem anymore. And we’re only participating in this as the staff of Rated Riot, so the only people who will have to speak to the police are those who will be present when they arrive at the venue tomorrow. So, ideally, only Luna, Mick, and me. That’s it. That’s as far as we’re getting involved.”

“Wait,” Jungkook said. He understood the need for Mick’s presence and felt comforted that you’d have someone from security with you, but now he was worried about your friend. “Why Luna?”

“We need an additional witness to observe Sid’s erratic behaviour,” Luna explained. “We thought it’d be better to have someone random, and not just your manager and head of security there.”

Jungkook kept his gaze on hers. “How do you know he’ll behave erratically?”

She gave him a look.

“Right.” He leaned back in his seat. “Good point. Okay.”

He already knew that the odds were good that Sid would try to provoke you tomorrow, but now he realised that even if Sid suddenly decided to be docile, it wouldn’t matter. The five of you were tight as a glove—Sid could sit in a corner, purring and meowing, and you would all collectively claim that he was threatening you.

Finally, Jungkook realised that he had narrowly escaped something dreadful, and he felt very grateful to find himself at this table, and not on the other side of this plan.

“I, uh—this isn’t a concern exactly,” you said after a minute. “But I have to say that a lot of this hinges on Sid trusting my word, and I’m—well, I’m not sure if he’ll care about anything I tell him.”

Minjun looked almost offended. He was the one who devised this strategy after you told him that you needed a way to quickly draw the attention of the authorities to Sid.

Why don’t you call him? Minjun had suggested. And invite him to meet you.

You had thought he’d decided to go insane right before talking to you. But you’d kept your suspicions to yourself because, ultimately, calling Sid seemed like the only option. It felt unfair, however, not to mention your doubts now.

“Actually, I agree,” Jungkook said, giving you a long look. “I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with any of that. You’ll have to be alone in a room with Sid. And we can’t be sure that he won’t—”

“Sid will care,” Minjun asserted, ignoring everything Jungkook had said. He kept his gaze on you, his certainty almost as intimidating as it was comforting. “Maybe not because he has feelings for you, but because you’re Jungkook’s girlfriend.”

Maggie looked up from her phone, surprised about the possibility of Sid having any feelings at all, and turned to Luna. The two of them finally exchanged the look that Luna had been waiting for.

“And you’re okay with doing this?” Jungkook asked you, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips. He was careful not to miss any hint of dishonesty.

“I’m okay if this actually works,” you said. “If Sid shows up. If we get him arrested. I’m willing to try this if you’re all sure that we’ll succeed. And I wouldn’t be all by myself anyway.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that part,” Maggie said to Jungkook, rolling up her sleeves for emphasis. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to be at the scene tomorrow, but she felt she had a personal debt to settle with Sid, so she would find a way to interfere if she had to. “I can fight.”

Jungkook looked at her in a way that was more amused than it was skeptical—Maggie was very small in size, but very big in energy—and she tried to flex her arms to prove her point.

“I believe you,” he said, a smile breaking through his uncertainty. “I just don’t like that this will all be happening during our show. I won’t be there with you.”

“That’s just the plan,” you said. “We need to keep you away from him so that anything he says later won’t carry any weight. He’s obsessed with you and he has problems, and you’ve been distancing yourself from him for some time now. We’ll release an official statement about your, uh, separation once we’re done with him. And the leaked blacklist will back up our claims.”

A resigned acceptance clouded Jungkook’s features: he understood that this was the right decision, but he couldn’t help feeling unhappy about it. However, although he would have typically complained and whined about this—and you expected him to—now his posture was stoic.

You felt a little dispirited. You knew you wouldn’t joke around much today, but Jungkook’s unusually serious demeanour emphasised the gravity of the situation even more.

“Okay,” Minjun said. “Any other concerns?”

You shifted your gaze to him.

“Actually, I have another one,” you said. “I’m also worried about how this will affect your parents.”

The two girls beside you exchanged another glance—you hadn’t explained Minjun’s family’s dependence on Sid’s mother yet.

“If Sid’s in prison?” Minjun asked, unperturbed. “Well, their stocks will probably drop, so it will be weird to throw a party. I think we’ll celebrate quietly.”

You glanced at Jungkook, and he met your eye with an amused grin.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked Minjun then.

“Are you kidding?” Minjun looked optimistic and upbeat. He seemed ready to take on the world, and locking up Sid was just the first step. “We should have done this years ago.”

Maggie suddenly slammed her palm on the table, forcing everyone’s coffee cups to rattle against the plates.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” she exclaimed, and her excitement quickly spread to the rest of the table.

“I agree,” Luna added, much quieter. “But maybe it’s time we headed out. The people at the next table are whispering and, uh, pointing at Jungkook.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows and turned to you instead of looking around, his expression filled with a shocked wonder. He had only been recognised in public a handful of times since Rated Riot started out, and each instance had left an indelible mark on him.

You gave him a smile and a nod that spurred him out of his chair and towards the people at the neighbouring table, all of whom held their breaths when he stood up.

You glanced back at your friends—all smiling as they watched Jungkook introduce himself and singlehandedly cut off the air supply of four different people—and you thought about how wonderful it would have been if you had met Maggie and Luna earlier. If Jungkook and Minjun had stopped entertaining Sid’s whims sooner. If you and Jungkook had never broken up at all.

Perhaps, you thought, there was an alternative universe where you’d known and loved these people your whole life. You felt very close to that universe now.

Just as you finished your breakfast—where the five of you consumed one cup of coffee and half a slice of tiramisu in total—you executed the first step of your plan and sent a text message to Sid. It was innocuous, just a conversational, “are you ever going to stop doing this?” but it was meant to serve as a subtle precursor—so as not to approach him out of the blue tomorrow.

Then, as the five of you exited the restaurant, Maggie got enthralled by the most gracious little corgi sitting at a table, and dragged Luna and Minjun (who looked like he was not sure what was happening) back inside to ask for pictures. You and Jungkook opted for a scenic route back to the hotel instead.

Although the day was overcast, the sky did not look particularly ominous, offering instead an unexpected serenity that you thought you could use to clear your thoughts.

Interestingly, fresh air was not what you really needed at all. It was his hand holding yours as you strolled past extravagant hotels and expensive restaurants near Hyde Park, weaving through crowds of rushing tourists and cranky locals.

You felt significantly lighter with your hand in his, but Jungkook still appeared troubled. The shadows on his face were far more pronounced than those in the sky.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked.

He let out a weary sigh as he met your gaze. He seemed overwhelmed—as though his head was trying very hard to grow twice as large to contain all his thoughts, while the rest of his body fought desperately to resist the growth.

“I—well, I didn’t want to say this in front of everyone,” he started slowly, “but I’m worried about you.”

“Me?” You frowned. “Wh—because of Sid?”

“Because you’re doing all of this on top of your other responsibilities,” he said. “I don’t want you to burn out.”

Your expression visibly softened, but dark edges of guilt still coated the appreciation in your eyes. You felt disappointed in yourself—for letting it get so far that, over a week later, Jungkook still sometimes looked at you as though you might faint any second.

“That won’t happen,” you replied, your tone gentle, but determined. “I promise. And I’m not alone. I have so much help. And this won’t—it’s just a few days. We deal with it tomorrow, and it’s over.”

“Okay. But what if it’s not?” he questioned then. “We’re heading to Paris right after we, potentially, deal with Sid. And what if it doesn’t work, and we’re not here to fix it?”

You had to admit, this same possibility had been weighing on your mind ever since Jude first mentioned the bags of drugs in Sid’s hotel room. However, as soon as you saw Jungkook’s solemn features, you found yourself resisting all these worries. You would figure it out, no matter what happened, just so he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Then it won’t work.”

“He’ll be furious,” Jungkook said. “Even more vindictive than before.”

“I know,” you replied. “But no matter what he decides to do, we won’t back down, either.”

Jungkook frowned so deeply that several new wrinkles declared permanent residence between his brows. He dreaded the idea of spending a lifetime seeking revenge.

You sensed the reason for his apprehension—you wanted this over quickly, too—and instinctively squeezed his hand.

“I’m with you,” you said, reaching for your phone to check if Sid had reacted to your text. “And I told you, I’m not entirely convinced that this will work, either. I mean, here, look. Sid hasn’t replied. But if this plan falls through, we’ll come up with something else. Maybe something—well, less grand.”

He glanced at your phone, toying with his lip ring between his teeth. The prospect of failure felt more daunting with each second that Sid remained free to do whatever he pleased.

Jungkook didn’t want to do something else. He wanted this to work.

“Maybe he hasn’t replied because Jude deleted everything,” he suggested, searching for a plausible explanation that aligned with your plan. “Including the texts.”

“No, that’s tomorrow,” you reminded him. He groaned. “We need—Sid needs to notice my texts first. Then we delete them. I’ll use a disposable SIM card tomorrow, so there’s no trace that I ever contacted him.”

Jungkook felt like his head had already grown far too large for his body. He was a bit unsteady on his feet and clutched your hand tighter.

“Right,” he said. “Okay. That—yeah, no.” He lifted your intertwined hands to scratch something at his forehead. “My head is spinning. I can’t remember that much.”

You gave him a sympathetic nod. “That’s fine.”

“I’m not saying that I’d be too dumb to follow a plan like this,” he felt the need to insist.

“I didn’t think that.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued. “There’s a lot.”

You nodded in exaggerated agreement again. “Mhmm.”

His eagerness to prove his intelligence to you was very endearing. But it was a little funny, too, and Jungkook stopped walking to study your expression more closely. After a moment, he came to an appalling conclusion.

“You think I’m dumb,” he said.

A wide smile finally broke out on your face. “I think you’re very pretty.”

“Very pr—okay.” His expression shifted as you laughed, pulling on his hand to continue walking after an elderly couple gave you a rather well-deserved disapproving look for blocking their path. “Pretty and dumb. Is that your type?”

“It is,” you said, grinning. “That’s why you’re the only boyfriend I’ve had.”

He raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “Oh—wow. Wow. I am both very flattered and very offended.”

You chuckled, gently pushing his shoulder with yours. Jungkook shook his head and finally smiled, too. But right as he prepared to say something else, he ended up having to quickly yank your hand, pulling you into him and out of the way of an oncoming bicycle.

“Shit,” you were breathless against his chest as the bike drove past, your hair whipping forcefully in the wind, “thank you.”

“Pretty and dumb,” he said, allowing you to take a step away from him now that the danger has passed, “but with great reflexes, huh?”

You laughed again, leaning into him when you did and successfully dissolving everything sharp and uncomfortable in his chest.

“I know you’re not dumb,” you said. “And let’s be realistic: Minjun and I had been simmering in the details of this plan for days. You just barely learned about it a few hours ago. We’ve got this. I wanted you to know what we’ll do, but I don’t want you to be involved at all.”

“Yeah. I—no, I just…” he faltered, weighing his next words. The thought of everything that would happen tomorrow made his stomach feel very heavy. “I feel like you’re trying to protect me from Sid by keeping me out of this, and I’m—I don’t know how that makes me feel.”

“We’re not just keeping you out, we’re keeping the whole band out,” you said. “I want to protect all four of you. And if anything, you’re the only member who isn’t entirely excluded. Does that… make it any better?”

Jungkook considered this for a moment.

“Not sure,” he said. “Because I’m still not participating.”

Exhaling softly, you looked around, searching for a quiet spot on the pavement where the two of you could step away from the crowd. Nearby, there were two traditional phone booths that tourists were gathered around, obstructing your view. Once you passed them, you noticed a parking meter right by the park gate that everyone seemed to avoid. You decided to pause there.

Jungkook glanced around before stopping in front of you, slightly unsettled by the large, dark green hedge covering the park fence, and all the bugs that emerged from it—bees, mostly. They all seemed very curious about him.

“Okay, look at it this way,” you began. “Sid has known you and Minjun since you were kids. He knows all your weak points. He can predict exactly how you and Minjun will react in any situation. Sure, you took him off guard when you gave up your Katana, but he can still read you very well. He doesn’t have that luxury with me, Luna, or Maggie. He’s less certain about our reactions. Who else could do this if not us?”

“Right,” Jungkook murmured. “But you’re still going out of your way for me, and I feel—”

“And why wouldn’t I?” you interrupted. “I love you.”

He thought he died for just a second and it felt surprisingly nice: he could feel something soft and warm against his skin—the phantom shivers of every time you’ve touched him before—and he could taste a sweet, lingering flavour on his tongue—from every time he felt your mouth against his own.

He would never tire of hearing you say you loved him. The only downside was that his chest usually attempted to collapse in on itself right after that, leaving him speechless for anywhere from a minute to several days.

“Not to mention,” you continued while Jungkook fought against the haze in his mind and the bumblebees around his neck. “Sid has long stopped at just you. With the videos and pictures he’s sending you, he’s threatening everyone on this tour. Anything that affects your reputation, affects the band and the staff, too. So, when you look at it like that, we’re really doing this for everyone.”

Finally, Jungkook managed to stop his thoughts from pulling him in every direction and anchored himself to this pavement right here—with you, and the persistent bugs, and the chattering of people as they walked past you.

He squeezed your hand that he had not let go—not now, and probably not ever, really—and exhaled.

“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “But I was the one who brought him here, and that’s—I guess that’s what’s bothering me right now.”

“You did bring him here,” you agreed.

“I—oh.” He looked up, his eyebrows knitting together. He had expected something else. An ‘I told you that was a shit decision’ or a sarcastic ‘yeah, and thanks for that’—but your kind expression did not change. “Y-yeah. I did.”

“But we’ll get him out,” you said.

Jungkook held your hand and observed you, trying to process this while simultaneously trying to figure out what was it about him that attracted these British bees to him so much. It couldn’t be his cologne, because you loved him far more than he’d allowed himself to believe. It couldn’t be his clothes, either, because you were looking at him like you believed anything was possible in this world, and he thought it really was.

He realised that to you, he must have appeared as if he were struggling to interpret prehistoric cave wall paintings, and this process was causing him immense pain. He cleared his throat.

“You don’t blame me?” he asked.

“For making a stupid decision?” you replied, and shrugged your shoulders after he nodded. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

He pressed his lips together, his expression a mixture of incredulity and pure delight.

“Okay,” he said. “Sure.”

You were smiling again, and he was a little too proud to admit how much your loving eyes and your great mood soothed his anxiety.

“And what would I gain from punishing you?” you added. “You’ve already seen through Sid. You’ve had enough. You learned your lesson. You’re good.”

Jungkook felt his chest swell as though he’d swallowed the swarms of bees around him, and now they’ve built a cosy little home right on the hills of his heart.

“You think so?” he asked, his eyes glistening.

“Why do you look so excited?” you countered. “Do you have more dickhead friends I haven’t met yet?”

He chuckled, waving his hand around his face. “Can I answer that inside the park? I’m afraid these bees are in love with me.”

You had already noticed his struggle with the bees—it was hard not to, one was perched right on his shoulder—and you found your own apparent immunity to this new bee predicament especially entertaining.

“Want me to fight them for you?” you suggested.

“Oh, in a battle of who loves me more?” he quipped, swatting vigorously at three stubborn bees that were particularly intrigued in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you said. “We’ll all sting you at the same time, and whoever dies first, wins.”

He snorted. “These are bumblebees. They don’t die after they sting.”

“Oh, so maybe we should just stay here,” you teased. “You all seem to know quite a bit about each other already.”

He squinted at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you jealous I’ve grown so close to these bees?”

“Of course. They’re all over you.”

“I’d rather have you all over—”

“Public park!” you interjected hastily, cutting him off.

His laughter in response was unapologetic and infectious—you found yourself shaking your head to suppress a treacherous smile.

“Did you also research public indecency laws?” he asked, turning past the menacing, bee-infested hedge.

You followed him through the gates into the park, your fingers intertwined with his. The clouds above had thickened, and the wind had picked up, but there was nothing about this afternoon that Jungkook did not enjoy.

“Actually, I did,” you replied. “Because of that stunt you pulled in New York last year.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes for just a fleeting moment before he pursed his lips, distancing himself from the memory. A gentle breeze swept through the park, rustling leaves and carrying the scent of damp earth; it would rain soon.

“I don’t remember,” he declared.

“Really?” you responded wryly. You both knew very well that he remembered. “Nothing familiar to you about the busking that turned into half-naked dancing in the middle of the street?”

“Nope,” he said. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“There was a lot more grinding than actual dancing, now that I think about it,” you pressed on. You noticed, through your peripherals, the way he scrunched his nose and furrowed his brows, evidently despising the memory he claimed he did not have. “Someone had drawn a crown of thorns on your forehead. You had a—sort of a cloth wrapped around your waist, and nothing else. Almost everyone on the face of the earth accused you of being in a sex cult after those pictures came out.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” he insisted. “They must have confused me with someone else.”

“Sure. They must have,” you relented, pouting your lips in mock-sympathy. “There are plenty of people in sex cults out there.”

“Exactly,” he replied, finally meeting your eyes.

Something about you bringing up this incident—“incidents” were a prominent category of his actions in his mind—reminded him of the videos Sid had sent him. However, with you, the feelings in his chest were vastly different.

You were playful. Lighthearted. Your love language was teasing the hell out of him.

Sid was venomous. Arrogant. Vile. His intentions were humiliation and destruction.

You were joking about a matter for which Jungkook undoubtedly owed you another apology. He could tell that you knew he would apologise eventually, but you were hoping—with every jest, every tender smile, every affectionate bite you sent his way—that he would not plunge himself into self-loathing again.

He wouldn’t. He had matured significantly since the day under discussion. He knew he had, even if it was easy to forget.

“I’m surprised how well you remember all that, actually,” he commented. “Are you secretly into sexual rituals?”

Your scoff returned his smile to his face.

“Oh, absolutely,” you said. “I keep a picture of you from that day on my desk at home. I look at it every night before I fall asleep.”

Jungkook kicked a few dry, scattered leaves on the pavement. When he glanced back at you, his grin bordered on ridiculous.

“I am aware that you’re trying to mock me right now,” he said, “but I feel obligated to inform you that I’m taking absolutely everything you say as a compliment.”

You nodded sagely. “I would expect nothing less from you.”

“Good,” he replied. “Please tell me more about how you look at pictures of me before you fall asleep every night.”

You tsked reproachfully at his grin.

“I take back what I said about you being smart,” you said. “You are the biggest idiot I’ve met.”

“Oh,” his face was jubilant, “but that just means you love me that much more, right?”

You let out a deep sigh. “I’m afraid so.”

He felt the swarms of bees in his chest, and they were buzzing incessantly—eager, restless, and yearning. They took every emotion he felt and spread them across his skin.

“I knew it,” he said, delighted by the look on your face. You were so captivating when you were trying to resist smiling; it was why he never stopped teasing you. “This must be awful for you.”

“Mmhm. It is,” you said. “You’re like a disease.”

He nodded, attempting a formal tone. “How bad is it?”

“Chronic and untreatable, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I am so sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, thank you.”

A deep, vibrant laughter finally erupted from his chest, and he stopped walking. Tugging on your linked hands, he drew you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist before you could say another word.

“I love you so much, you know that?” he whispered, his voice low against your neck. “It’s not even funny how much.”

He rocked gently on his feet with you in his arms, and you could not tell if the vibrations you felt came from his chest or yours.

“More than the bees love you?” you asked, your hands sliding over his shoulders.

“Much more than the bees love me.”

“Oh, must be quite a lot, then.”

“It is,” he said, chuckling hopelessly. “It really fucking is.”

He tightened his already firm grip until he felt your deep exhale against the side of his neck. He held you and his heartbeat chased after yours while the bustling crowds, the rustling leaves, and the solemn park benches whispered incomprehensibly around you, their frustration about your public affection lost on you.

When he pulled away a minute—or ten—later, he realised that his cologne had brushed off on you. There was something wildly intoxicating about you smelling exactly like him, and he needed a minute to make the park stop spinning.

“I, um—” he started to say, but his voice broke. He cleared his throat, took your hand in his to continue down the park, and tried again. “Jokes aside, I feel—I really appreciate what you do for me. What you’re doing to fix my shit right now, and what you—what you’ve always done to fix my shit. I don’t say that enough. Thank you. For taking care of Sid, too.”

You shook your head. You knew you couldn’t tackle Sid alone—probably no one could.

“This is a team effort,” you replied. “If this works, you can bake us all a cake later.”

Jungkook no longer had even half of a doubt that this would work, one way or the other. And if he’d stayed with you longer, he would have easily started to believe that Rated Riot would be elected presidents, too—one after the other.

“I’m not much of a baker,” he said.

“I’ll help,” you offered.

“Your help,” he responded, his smile turning mischievous, “usually consists of walking around, eating chocolate sprinkles, and distracting me.”

It was your turn to look offended.

“I’m the only one who remembers how many eggs the recipe needs,” you retorted, dignified. “How do I distract you?”

“How can I remember the eggs when you’re dancing and singing around me?” he countered.

He noticed the way your chin quivered as you fought to maintain a serious expression.

“Well, that’s on you,” you said. “Any skilled chef knows to keep their staff busy so they wouldn’t have time to sing and dance. Also, don’t play good songs when we’re in the kitchen.”

“Alright, we’ll bake in silence,” he decided. “And you’ll do everything while I sit and order you around.”

The corners of your lips finally curled into a smirk.

“That’s interesting,” you said, your thumb lightly brushing over his as he swayed your hands. “Switching up the dynamics.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, very intrigued by the insinuation in your words. “You want me to order you around?”

“I mean…” You shrugged. “I’d like to see you try.”

He stopped walking suddenly, right in the midst of a group of senior ladies, forcing a few of them to gasp and walk around him with very exaggerated expressions of disbelief as though they’d never felt more wronged (there were a few obligatory comments about “kids these days,” too, of course).

Jungkook, undeterred, took a step to the right until he was standing in front of you.

“Kiss me,” he said.

The demand in his tone caught you off guard, but you tried to blink away your surprise. “I didn’t mean right now—”

“Kiss me,” he repeated more assertively.

You felt your stomach lighten and go for a little float inside you, like a loose helium-filled balloon.

“We are in the middle of a busy park,” you said, looking around. “We’re blocking—”

“Kiss me,” he interrupted again, his voice firm but lively, “or I won’t move.”

You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, torn between amusement and apprehension as you battled his self-assured grin, while passersby shot disapproving glances at the two of you.

“See, there’s ordering people around,” you said, “and there’s acting like a three-year-old.”

He simply shrugged, relentless. “I see no difference.”

“Do I sound like a toddler when I tell you to do things?”

“Sometimes.”

His satisfied grin only gained prominence when you scoffed and looked away, rolling your eyes.

You questioned, sometimes, how you managed to put up with him for so long. But then you also questioned, much more often, how you’d survived without him at all.

“If I were a teacher,” you said, “you’d be in detention for disrupting everyone’s day.”

“Oh! And what would I have to do?” he teased, mischief gleaming proudly in his eyes. “Write an essay on the importance of respecting authority?”

“That might do you good, actually,” you retorted. “Maybe you should consider writing it anyway.”

He shrugged his shoulders and cocked his head to the side. “Kiss me and I’ll do it.”

He looked so utterly unfazed that you did feel very compelled to lay your hands on him and do something.

He might have been one of the most exasperating people you’ve met in your life, always ready to say something cheeky no matter what you told him, always causing trouble wherever he went, never letting you breathe in peace for just one second.

You were outrageously grateful to have found him.

“People are staring at us,” you said, but there was no conviction in your voice. “We look like idiots.”

Jungkook admired your cautiousness, but he wanted you to let go of it. People would always stare; he just wanted you to kiss him.

“They’re staring because you’re defying authority,” he countered easily.

“Jungkook, just—”

“Oh, see?” he cut in, his tone triumphant. “Maybe you should be the one to write that essay.”

You groaned very demonstratively, but he saw the corners of your lips lift. Finally, you took a small step towards him and pressed your lips to his in a quick peck. He pulled you into him just as you attempted to pull away, and kissed you properly.

At last, the crowds disappeared, allowing you to dissolve in the warmth of his lips and come back to life with all the shivers that ran down your spine when he touched the back of your neck. You felt his smile and felt your own, too, when he brought his tongue over yours, deepening the kiss.

“You are insufferable,” you managed to mumble between kisses, and the affection in your voice was impossible to mistake for something else.

“I love you,” he whispered in response, each word sweet and sugary against your lips.

You kissed him once more—to soothe your racing heart—and then once more again—to soothe his—before you pulled away, whispering back, “I love you.”

Jungkook only managed half of a pleased “I—” before he felt a few soft, cold droplets land on his forehead and both of his cheeks. He raised his head.

“Is it me, or is it—”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, looking up at the angry clouds. “It’s raining.”

“Do you—should we go inside?” he asked, looking around.

There was no specific “inside” anywhere close to the two of you, but you looked at him again and spotted something at the very edge of the park behind him, right across a busy bike lane.

“There’s a little gazebo over there,” you suggested, pointing.

Jungkook turned around and seemed to have an epiphany when he noticed the crooked structure.

“In the—in the park,” he mumbled to himself, feeling a little weak in the knees. He took your hand in his again. “Let’s go.”

He led you straight into the bicycle traffic as he crossed the road, causing a commotion and undoubtedly endangering everyone’s lives—and not even realising it in his eagerness to get to the gazebo. You attempted to raise your hand in apology to the cyclists, but quickly realised that the smile on your face likely made the gesture seem mocking.

It occurred to you that you and Jungkook were being very disruptive today, very annoying, very much in everyone’s faces about your relationship. And you realised, as he pulled you past the groups of people running from the rain, that you did not actually mind this all that much. Or at all.

There was a certain beauty in the unapologetic way that people in love behaved in public—grinning at their phones, kissing at bus stops, holding hands on narrow streets barely wide enough for one person. Running across the park in the rain and stumbling into every puddle possible.

When you and Jungkook finally reached the gazebo, you were both drenched and breathless. And you realised, belatedly, that it was not a suitable shelter at all: there were no railings or benches, the roof was not only crooked, but obviously decaying, and the rain splattered you if you got too close to the edge.

But you’d been here before: caught in the rain on your way to the restaurant for your first date seven years ago, seeking refuge under a much sturdier roof of a similar gazebo in an empty park, while the vividly green trees—almost a rarity so late in September—whispered wearily from the heavy rain on their leaves.

You’d been here before, and you did not want to go anywhere else.

“I’m starting to think,” you began, “that there’s something about us that attracts rain.”

Jungkook was thinking this very thought and laughed so heartily that the rain stopped for just a second, shamed into silence by a sound far more charming than the eager pitter-patter against the roof.

“You think we could make some money out of it?” he joked, his eyes energetic. “Maybe add a little performance to it? Rain dance?”

“We might have accidentally performed one already,” you said, stepping closer to the edge of the gazebo to watch the raindrops splash against the damp ground.

“You’re right,” he agreed, taking your hand in his and guiding you to face him. “Let me see.”

He brought your hand to his chest and you watched, puzzled, as he closed his eyes and pretended to concentrate very hard on the sounds around him. People across the street screeched as they ran from the rain. A stubborn gull was screeching in the exact same way somewhere overhead.

Jungkook clutched your hand tighter and hummed. He was joking, clearly putting up a show, but you heard the faint sound of distant thunder, and the joy on his face turned luminous.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed as you laughed, and the rain, encouraged by your approval, began to pour even harder.

You watched him revel in this delightful coincidence—or an elusive sign—and allowed his radiant smile to bring back the memories that you had locked away in a box you didn’t dare touch unless you were half-asleep.

It had been raining on your first date seven years ago, but it had also been raining when he suggested that date. You’d felt invincible then, the only one staying dry in the whole world, as you nearly sprinted home from the party where he’d asked you out. You stumbled over the threshold of your dorm room, your shoes wet and slippery, and landed on your knees, shouting the news to your roommate, who was startled out of bed by your loud entrance.

This was the beginning of the happiness you’d felt almost every day since then. But this happiness came with a price: you would come to class and you could not rest, could not find it in yourself to calm down, until Jungkook arrived and took his usual seat behind you. You wouldn’t even have to look, you’d always know he had come because you’d feel a sudden sense of peace—and then you’d lock eyes with him across the room.

For years after this, even today, when you tried to find a period of your life where you’d felt the happiest, these were the moments that your mind returned to.

“What are you thinking?” Jungkook asked, brushing a damp strand of hair from your cheek and bringing your focus back to the rainy moment with his touch.

“It—it’s been seven years and now we’re back in the rain,” you replied, distracted by the lingering echo of the years that have passed outside this gazebo. “Nothing’s changed.”

A faint smile danced on his lips.

“Yeah. Nothing important has,” he agreed. “I still love you.”

You met his gaze, a little thrown off. “W-what do you mean, still? That was our first date seven years ago.”

“Yeah,” he said, raising his eyebrows at the confusion on your face. “Oh, did you think I asked you out right after I saw you? No, no. I spent a whole year absolutely fucking pining after you before I finally mustered the courage to ask you out.”

You assumed he might have liked you a little, based on the way he’d introduced himself to you. But you obviously didn’t know about his alleged year-long pining that preceded your first date. And you weren’t sure if you wanted to believe him, given your own year-long pining. It made little sense for the two of you to like each other for so long and not do anything about it.

On the other hand, considering the past few years, perhaps it made perfect sense.

Your heartbeat had sped up, so you argued childishly, “no, you didn’t.”

“I did. Ask anyone,” he said, grinning. He wasn’t as embarrassed about this as he used to be—and your surprise made it easier for him to admit everything. “I never knew how to love you quietly. But it still took me ages to talk to you even with everyone’s encouragement. And that, uh—our first conversation didn’t go very well.”

“Wait—what do you mean? It went very well,” you disagreed. “I remember everything you said word for word. ‘We have Sociology together, I saw you sleeping in class, very cute by the way, the professor does not know how to shut up, have you seen that new Studio Ghibli film, I recently watched their classic with some friends, My Neighbour Jungkook, I’m Totoro by the way, I thought maybe—wait—no—’”

He interrupted you once your smile had grown dangerously wide. “Don’t you dare make fun of me.”

“I would never!” you said through laughter. “I think I knew I was in it for life the moment you said all that.”

He had to look down because the bees inside him had multiplied, spreading rapidly to his head and his lungs and his stomach, and he was a little concerned that he’d start buzzing, too.

“Not one period, nothing,” you continued, a melancholic haze in your eyes. “Just commas and an endless stream of thought. You could have asked me to bury a body, I would have said yes.”

He smiled, but everything inside of him was turning upside down, returning to normal, then turning downside up.

Every time he remembered how he approached you seven years ago, he either felt a little uncomfortable or completely mortified. He’d never thought you’d remember that day so well and with such fondness.

“By the way,” you added when he did not speak, “you did look a little like you were about to confess to accidentally murdering my roommate when you started to speak.”

This finally made him chuckle, and he felt his skin thaw from the frozen state of amazement. He remembered hoping that you’d forget all about what he’d said that day. Now he realised he had never felt more thrilled that you remembered.

“I know,” he said. “I was shaking.”

“Yeah. I, um—” you trailed off, needing another minute. “I had a crush on you, too, actually. For a long while.”

His smile faded, replaced by a look of criminal disbelief. “You did not.”

You recognised your own suspicion in his words and smiled. However, unlike Jungkook, who owned up to his stressful pining and memorable first impression, you did not feel ready to confess to your silent sulking quite as easily.

“I did,” you said. “But you turned away every time I looked at you on campus, so I thought, oh, okay. That guy hates me for some reason. Nevermind.”

“I didn—I never—”

“I actually made a playlist before we met,” you added quickly before you could change your mind. “And I, uh, kept updating it throughout our relationship.”

You did not look at him when you said this, so you missed the befuddled look on his face.

“A pl—you made a playlist?” he repeated, his thoughts momentarily derailed. He couldn’t even hear the rain anymore. “And you never told me?”

“And I will continue to act like you don’t know about it,” you said.

He was too ecstatic to care. He hadn’t dared to imagine that he would have such a strong presence in your thoughts that you would create a playlist about him—for him? (he thought he might faint)—before you even met.

“No, b-but I’m supposed to be the one making grand gestures in our relationship, and you have a playlist about me? Ab-about us?” he questioned, almost frantic. “Is it—well, what songs are in it? About our relationship?”

You tried to put your words together, your slow, calculated breaths a stark contrast against his passionate energy. Another clap of thunder, unusually intense, rumbled in the sky.

“Sort of,” you finally answered. You thought that a playlist did not come anywhere close to everything he’d done and attempted to do for you, but you still struggled to articulate yourself. “Or songs that we both liked. Songs that we listened to together. Songs that we discovered on roadtrips—just, uh, stuff like that.”

He shook his head, every part of his skin itching with an unfathomable urge to hear these songs.

“You have to let me listen to it,” he stated.

“No,” you said, giving a determined shake of your head. “It’s enough that you know it exists.”

“I will absolutely never shut up about this,” he retorted, gesturing with his hands to emphasise his commitment to being annoying, “and I might end up telling more people.”

“I will kill you if I have to,” you warned.

“So I will haunt you, then,” he returned. “Is it on Spotify?”

You narrowed your eyes. “It’s private.”

“I am not above pulling a Sid and stealing your phone,” he said, resolute.

You snorted despite yourself.

“Okay. Fine,” you said. “Maybe I’ll give you the link after.”

Jungkook waited for further clarification, but you decided you’d said enough.

He was confused. He no longer had any clear delineations of time in his life—ever since he found you again, his whole life had shifted to “after.”

“After—after Sid?” he asked.

“After everything,” you replied, unintentionally ominous as your gaze wandered to the fragmented reflections of the clouds on the rain-soaked pavement. “After we leave London. After we deal with the label. After it stops fucking raining every time we go out together.”

Jungkook thought he could already see these things: the Parisian streets after you’ve left Sid in London, the peace after you’ve told the label about your relationship, the sun in the sky after the rain lost its courage to threaten you again.

“Okay,” he relented, his features softening. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Your lips curved into a gentle smile. “I know you will.”

He hummed, stepping on a loose floorboard with the edge of his boot.

“Now, then,” he said, “tell me about this crush you supposedly had on me.”

“It was a crush,” you insisted, your voice growing more fervent right away.

Jungkook smiled but tried to remain collected. He had decided it was better for his sanity not to believe you.

“I liked you ever since I saw you at that first freshman party,” you continued and he realised that he was absolutely, without a doubt not collected at all. “I spent that entire night scrolling through the list of people invited to this event on Facebook until I found your profile. But I didn’t dare to send you a friend request, because—well, you know. We hadn’t talked or anything. I thought maybe you’re not interested.”

He thought his heart might stop because this freshman event was where he first saw you—and for every waking and sleeping moment since then, he had been interested.

“I noticed you around campus after that,” you continued. “And I would have talked to you first, I think. If you hadn’t looked like you dreamed of my violent death every time you met my eye.”

He groaned, rubbing his eyes with the pillows of his palms.

“Well, obviously, I liked you too much to look at you and not glare,” he said, even though none of that was obvious. “I actually thought I developed some sort of an allergy right when I first saw you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “An allergy?”

“Yeah. Shortness of breath, just feeling hot all over, sweating profusely,” he elaborated, moving his hands away from his face to reveal his faint, nostalgic smile. “That had never happened to me before. It was either the dust in the room or you. And there wasn’t a lot of dust.”

You pursed your lips before your cheeks could stretch any further.

“I don’t know,” you teased, “they don’t clean the building that well.”

“It was you,” he stated firmly. “Got my breath catching in my throat. Gave me butterflies, made my heart race—made me feel all the things that people write embarrassing bubblegum pop songs about.”

You looked down to collect yourself before all the signals that your heart was sending to your brain could reflect on your face.

“Catchy songs, though,” you murmured.

“Catchy, sure,” he agreed, his tone wistful. “Until all those things they sing about happen to you, and you feel like you’re drowning.”

You felt a little like you might drown just now as your heart pounded in your chest, angry at you for another wasted year.

“I’m really happy we finally ended up together,” he said. “Seven years ago, and today.”

You finally looked up at him and remembered all the times when you used to worry that you had already lived through your happiest moments, and any little joy you’d come across later would pale in comparison. You knew better now.

Jungkook was your happiest moment, and he was right here. He’d always been right here.

“I love you,” you said, a little suffocated by the overwhelming warmth in your chest. “I’ve loved you every day for all these years.”

He was smiling so widely that his lip ring dug into his stretched lips. He reached out to caress your cheek, resting his palm on the side of your face for a moment, his eyes bright and glittering.

He kissed you slowly, his bottom lip lingering between your lips while the rain washed the noise of the city away. He tasted love and longing on your tongue, and he had never in his life wished for the sunshine to stay away longer.

The rain listened. It had become a fundamental part of your present and a prophet of your future: the two of you were going to spend the rest of your lives listening to the rain and falling in love.

Since Rated Riot had a day off and the other members let you know where they were by bickering continuously in the groupchat, you and Jungkook locked yourselves in his hotel room when you returned.

You changed into dry clothes first, and then noticed that Sid still hadn’t replied to your text. In case he really hadn’t received it, you sent another one—with just question marks—hoping that he’d interpret your repeated messages as a sign of your desperation to talk to him.

You put your phone away and climbed back into bed. The sun had already set outside the window, casting faint, elongated shadows around you in the room. You and Jungkook listened to the music playing on his phone and returned to the snacks he had bought for your film night a few days earlier.

As the song switched to the latest Bad Omens collaboration, you closed your eyes to nod along, and he reached over to snatch a chocolate-covered cherry bonbon from you, causing a spark of static electricity to pass between you.

“Sorry,” he said, chuckling after he heard you gasp. “It’s from the bees, I think. They must have somehow electrified me.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely something that bees can do,” you played along, sitting up on the bed and unwrapping another candy for him. “Maybe you should take an ice bath to avoid these after-effects.”

He accepted the candy with a grin. “No. I like shocking you when I touch you.”

To be fair, he didn’t need bees or electricity for that—but you decided not to point that out.

You realised how much peace you felt here: listening to music and eating sweets with him across the bed from you. You didn’t think there was anything you still needed in life. Watching him close his eyes as the chocolate melted on his tongue, and hearing him hum with childlike delight as he swallowed, filled an emptiness inside of you that nothing—no trips abroad, no late-night drinks, no shopping sessions—could have filled.

This random moment in his hotel room was nothing at all, yet it was everything.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed, startling you both.

“Sid?” Jungkook asked eagerly, letting the remaining chocolate melt slowly on his fingers while you reached for your phone.

“No,” you replied, checking the screen. “It’s Maggie. She just posted the backstage pictures with our list.”

His expression tightened. “Oh.”

“There’s nothing from Sid,” you added.

Jungkook finally popped the rest of the candy into his mouth. He decided—quite abruptly—that he’s had enough discussions about Sid and everything you’ve been through because of him.

“You know what we should do?” he asked, licking the remnants of the chocolate off his fingers. “We should go to the sea after the tour ends.”

“Oh—we—yeah?” you asked, stumbling over your words. You thought it was very unfair of him to ask you this while running his tongue over his fingers all in the same breath. “We—but we don’t know when that’ll be.”

“Whenever,” he said with a shrug. “Let’s go.”

It took you half of a second to say “okay,” and he didn’t think he’d ever learn how to stop his heart from soaring every time your agreement came so quickly, so easily.

To be honest, you didn’t know why he even asked. It was fairly clear that there weren’t many instances where you would have refused him.

However, your response still painted his features with every warm hue in existence, and he settled back on the bed, resting his head on the pillows and closing his eyes. As you watched him, you were forced to acknowledge one more time that witnessing him like this should have required an admission ticket—and a sign reading, “do not touch the exhibit.”

“I feel like I have everything,” he said, unknowingly echoing every sentiment you felt. “I don’t even care if Sid replies to you and if our plan works.”

You leaned against the pillows on the other side of the bed and turned to your side to face him. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” he replied, a melodious hum in his tone. He opened his eyes to meet yours and placed his hand on the pillow beneath his head. “We’re—you’re here with me. The tour is going well, it’s—that’s it. That’s my whole dream.”

He looked beautiful in an almost devastating way. He looked like every extravagant adjective that sounded made-up when you encountered it in writing for the first time: transfixing. Beguiling. Effulgent. Pulchritudinous.

You really wanted to touch the exhibit.

“Do you know how we formed Rated Riot?” he asked suddenly, distracting you.

You raised your eyebrows, then turned your gaze away. Jungkook realised you probably didn’t understand where his question had come from, but you didn’t ask him anything, so he did not explain.

Truthfully, you did not know the complete story behind how Rated Riot got together. You only knew what each of the boys was doing when they first met.

“I don’t know much,” you admitted. “I know that Hoseok kicked things off.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nodded, then stopped. “Or maybe Namjoon, actually? Because Namjoon saw Hoseok at some gig that he went to. When he asked about his band, Hoseok gave him, like, fifteen business cards. But even though he filled in for all these bands, it was still only maybe one gig per week. That’s nothing. So, Namjoon told him he’s too talented for that shit. He said he needed his own band.”

You recalled Yoongi mentioning that Namjoon was the first producer that Rated Riot have worked with, but you hadn’t realised this was before the band was even formed.

Suddenly, the broken air conditioner in the room whirred back to life, interrupting your thoughts.

“S-so, they started talking,” Jungkook said, momentarily distracted by the loud noise. “Hoseok wanted to be independent, and Namjoon didn’t push him to sign with Jett Records back then. He helped him. Unofficially, I guess. They found Taehyung very randomly at this one after-party for somebody at our label—well, our future label. Namjoon took Hoseok there to network, and Taehyung just happened to be there. No one knows why, but you know Taehyung. He’s always going to be right where he needs to be.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding knowingly. Taehyung always seemed to find his way to the people and places meant for him.

“Yeah, so he was at that party,” Jungkook continued, “and he overheard Namjoon and Hoseok discussing the plan for Hoseok’s band. They were saying that they needed a bassist first. And Taehyung just chimed in like, “I play bass.” Just out of the blue. Namjoon asked him who he was, and he introduced himself. Namjoon then asked what he was doing here, and Taehyung said, “I’ll tell you if you let me join the band”—which he never did, by the way. We still don’t know what he was doing at that party.”

You chuckled softly. Knowing Taehyung, nothing in this story surprised you, but you were still impressed by how quickly his energy captivated Hoseok and Namjoon.

“So, they let him join?” you asked.

“Namjoon claims he auditioned for them first,” Jungkook said, clicking his lips questioningly. “But one time when Hoseok was very drunk, he admitted that he’d felt desperate. Namjoon was busy and couldn’t help him much, so Hoseok had to figure things out on his own. He said he called and invited Taehyung to join right away. He thought they could find a proper bassist later, and Taehyung could fill the spot for the time being. Funny.”

“Oh,” you said. “Because he hadn’t heard him play yet?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He hadn’t seen Taehyung even holding a bass before. So, he had doubts. I guess I get that. Anyway. He invited Namjoon to their first rehearsal and Taehyung blew Namjoon the fuck away. That’s it. Hoseok said that after that, he was worried Namjoon would sign Taehyung and leave him behind. Not that Namjoon would do that, but uh—yeah. Taehyung was that good.”

“They’re both that good,” you said. “Hoseok never acknowledges his own talent.”

“Right?” he nodded eagerly, turning to his side to look at you. There was a warm smile on your lips that Jungkook really enjoyed. “They’re both amazing.”

“So, how do you come into the picture?” you asked.

He took a breath before answering.

“I saw Hoseok and Taehyung playing at this dive bar that Sid dragged me to,” he said.

Your eyebrows arched in surprise. “No shit?”

“Yeah,” he said, running his tongue over his lips. “He said I was annoying and mopey, so he kept taking me to a new place every night. There were hardly any people at this bar that night. Taehyung was singing, but he sang, like, one verse, and then they launched into the longest instrumental break I’ve ever fucking heard. And it was incredible. Shit, I—I’m more into vocal music. But seeing Hoseok and Taehyung play together—there was another guitarist with them, actually, I don’t even know who it was—anyway. It made me realise how powerful instrumental music can be on its own.”

A dreamy fog had descended upon his face, and only now did you realise that the air conditioner had stopped working again, seemingly calling it a day. You appreciated the silence and the way Jungkook looked when he played back the memories in his head, his eyes shimmering with the bright lights and the sounds of the bar that night.

“I didn’t know that Sid met the other members before you joined the band,” you said.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied. “He also said he could be a better bassist than ‘that guy.’”

“He—of course,” you groaned. “Wait until Luna hears this. She’ll take care of Sid for us on Taehyung’s behalf, I think.”

He nodded, snickering. “I bet. But Sid actually left the bar before they finished their set. I stayed back. After they wrapped up, I went up to Hoseok at the bar and told him how much I enjoyed their performance. Told him I was thinking of picking up drums—”

He paused abruptly, noticing your surprise before you remembered him mentioning this to you.

“Oh, was this when you and Sid were planning to start your own band?” you asked. You had assumed they were joking.

“Yeah,” he replied, snickering. He had been joking, but he still found drummers to be effortlessly cool. “So, Hoseok delivered the longest fucking speech about what his job was like. Don’t ask him about it, by the way, or you’ll have to sit through three hours of him making drum sounds. But anyway, I was pretty drunk by then, and I don’t know, I guess I hummed along to some song that was playing or something.”

You nodded. Jungkook was almost always humming something.

“Then Hoseok said they needed a vocalist for their band,” he continued, “because Taehyung didn’t want to do it. And he noticed me humming, so he jokingly asked if I happened to sing. I said sometimes, nothing serious. Everybody sings sometimes. He told me to sing something for him. I told him to get fucked, we’re in a bar.” Jungkook had to pause here to let you finish laughing. “And Hoseok just shrugged, like, “no one’s at the mic, why not?””

“That did it for you?” you asked.

He nodded. “That fucking did it for me.”

You laughed again, knowing that he would never shy away from anything that resembled a challenge.

“What did you sing?” you asked.

Jungkook gave you a look. There was only one song that always lingered at the back of his mind. You could have guessed it, really, but you were a little frightened about its significance in this context.

“You—you sang Biffy Clyro?” Your throat was dry all of a sudden and useless questions continued to pour out of your dumbfounded chest. “At that bar? In front of Hoseok? “M-Many of Horror?””

“Of course,” Jungkook said, as if there had never been any other song he could have chosen to perform that night, besides the one that followed you and him throughout your relationship. “It—it really fucked with me, though. We had just broken up maybe a month ago, so it was still fresh, you know? And this was my first time singing “Many of Horror” in public, on top of that. And I was—I didn’t do well. I think I missed half the lyrics in the last chorus because it was too much.”

He snickered lightly, trying to lessen the impact of his words. You felt frozen.

“I-I was standing there,” he continued, and you could almost see it, “hiccuping to the I still believe, it’s you and me ‘til the end of time, while Hoseok just watched me, expressionless. And then I drank half the bar right after I got off stage.”

He sang the two lines of the song as he shared the story, his voice quiet and tender, and you thought you must have resembled Hoseok right now—so lost in all the emotions brewing inside you that you did not immediately realise he had stopped speaking, and it might have been appropriate for you to reply.

“Y-you still sounded great, though,” you managed. “Obviously.”

“Yeah, maybe four people clapped. Out of the ten or so at the bar,” he said, chuckling. “Hoseok told me he had to make a call, told me to stay right where I was, and then he disappeared. He returned twenty minutes later with some dishevelled guy in a turtleneck with a little hole in the collar.”

You recognised the description. “Namjoon?”

“Namjoon,” Jungkook confirmed, the smile on his face matching the one hesitantly spreading on yours. “I was fucking wasted. They were saying I had to meet with them for rehearsals, they wanted to see how I’d sound with them. And I’m—I couldn’t fucking think straight. They were telling me they wanted me to join the band, and all I could think about was that you weren’t here.”

The excitement in your eyes quickly turned into pain as a sharp twinge of longing pierced through your chest. It cut into every open crevice of your heart, reminding you of the way it had bled in those first few months after you broke up—even on this particular day, while Jungkook was struggling to get himself together in the face of his future, and you were likely at home, tossing and turning in your bed because you did not know what to do with yourself.

“I wanted to tell you so badly,” Jungkook admitted, his eyes fixed on the bedsheets, his voice filled with incorrigible regret. “But we weren’t talking anymore. I thought—there was this one moment where I thought, well, what’s the point? What’s the use of joining this band if I can’t even tell you about it? A-and they weren’t even a full group when I met them anyway. It took about two more weeks for Yoongi to join.”

You made a conscious effort to swallow the lump in your throat, and shifted your focus to Yoongi to allow for the sudden ache in your chest to subside.

“Yeah, uh—Yoongi mentioned that he was the last to join,” you commented, hoping to steer the conversation back to a less emotionally charged topic. “He used to play for a different band before, right?”

“Yeah. Somnia,” Jungkook said. The name did not sound familiar to you. “They weren’t—um, going anywhere. That’s a very blunt way to put it, but they were just stuck. And Yoongi and Namjoon go way back. So, Namjoon called him one day and lied that he was producing for this new, promising band in need of a permanent guitarist. Said they had a solid rhythm section, but their artistic direction needed some refinement.”

“And, uh,” your voice was a little lighter, “I assume they had a great vocalist, too?”

Jungkook smiled. “They did, yeah. I was trying to be modest, but you brought it up.”

You snickered, offering a nonchalant shrug. “Just trying to help you out.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “Yeah. So, Yoongi was the last one to join. He’d—he has a lot more creative freedom with us than he had with Somnia, which still isn’t a lot. But it’s something. And I think that was the main reason why he left them.”

“And they were okay with him leaving?” you asked.

Jungkook turned on his back and sighed.

“I assume they weren’t,” he said, briefly glancing at the ceiling before turning to look at you. “That’s why he doesn’t talk much about it.”

“Ah.” You nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Yeah, but anyway, Yoongi joined and we were complete,” Jungkook continued. “We released “Haunting” independently. That—okay, that was in June. Some time after that, this radio DJ that Yoongi knew played our song on his radio show as a birthday gift to Yoongi. Namjoon and Christian Jett—”

“CJ, apparently,” you cut in.

“Right. CJ,” he repeated. “They heard the song at some event. Apparently, CJ loved it, so Namjoon told him about us. When CJ found out we weren’t signed to a label, he reached out to us. It took Taehyung and me three days to convince Yoongi and Hoseok to go to that meeting. They both had some shitty experiences with record labels in the past. But we persuaded them to at least show up. CJ had us perform “Haunting” and “Cursed” for him, the only songs we had released at the time, and he signed us on the spot. Well, after Yoongi finished negotiating with him about our contracts.”

Your heart started to race as if you had just realised how much the universe had to align, how many intricate coincidences had to happen to lead Jungkook to his band, and to bring the two of you to this moment in his hotel room.

“We started working on our album,” he went on, “and about four months later—in July, right?—the record started to finally come together. That’s when CJ started to look for a manager for us.”

You took a breath and finished for him, “and reached out to me.”

“Yeah,” he said. “All CJ told us was that he found someone. He mentioned that this person was already working under the label and that the band they managed had recently broken up.”

You did not interrupt the silence that followed, because you thought that Jungkook had paused for a few seconds. But he stopped speaking altogether, waiting for you to share your perspective.

“I-I was, uh, Nick’s assistant at the time,” you said, realising what the silence was for. “We were working with The Jungle Will Get You.” You turned to Jungkook and he shook his head. “Yeah, they were—they weren’t popular. And the members weren’t really motivated, especially towards the end. They split up, eventually. Nick moved on to manage Reconnaissance, and I took on administrative tasks for various bands under the label. It was only for a few months, but I thought I’d end up buried in endless piles of papers. So, when HR called me in to tell me about Rated Riot, I pretended to know exactly who you were to get that job.”

He was smiling next to you on the bed, lost in the memories that did not hurt anymore now that he shared them with you.

“I doubt even HR knew who we were,” he said, gazing up at the ceiling and clasping his hands on his stomach. “I’m just—I’m constantly—I don’t know. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that it was you that they chose for us. I mean, you’re amazing, you could have worked with any band out there. But they picked you for us.”

You grappled with the same impossible coincidence.

“I’m thinking about that, too,” you said. “You had so much potential and CJ... I wasn’t sure if he even saw it when he reached out to me. Not to mention, you and I were—we were broken up for two years at that point?”

“A year and seven months,” Jungkook replied.

“Right,” you said, slightly out of breath from the precision of his answer.

He turned to face you. “Did you ever consider turning down that offer to work with us after you found out I’m in the band?”

You exhaled what little oxygen you had left in your lungs. You’d considered many things when you saw him again that day, and you realised now that you still hadn’t fully grasped all the thoughts that had passed through your mind at the time.

“For maybe half a second,” you said. “I was very confident that we could move on from our relationship.”

He grinned. “Look how well that worked out for us.”

“Mhmm, right?” you agreed, meeting his gaze. “So professional.”

He chuckled, intoxicated by your proximity and the peace he found in the knowledge that the universe had put in a good effort to lead you two here.

“I know that—well, it seems like everything just fell into place to get all of you together for Rated Riot,” you said. “But it wasn’t that easy for you guys, was it?”

“Yeah, no, it definitely wasn’t,” he agreed. “After Yoongi joined, we struggled to write one fucking original song for months. We thought the band was going nowhere.”

You could see the sadness in his eyes. “It was that bad?”

“Yeah. Everything we tried to work on was shit,” he said. “We were getting drunk every night, trying to find something that could work as our first song. And nothing worked.”

“So, what happened?” you asked.

“You,” he answered simply.

Your brows creased. “How—what do you mean?”

“Namjoon pushed us to release something authentic for our debut single,” he began. “And the other guys decided to kick my ass and force me to work. They knew I was writing something, but it—it wasn’t anything serious. Not like what they write. You know I can’t just create shit on the spot. My lyrics have to be about something that I’ve been through. And you’re—you are every single meaningful experience that I have had in my life. The guys—they wanted to use that. So, you’re sort of the main reason why Rated Riot are where they are”

You exhaled slowly, your mind filled with thoughts just like it had been the first time you walked into Rated Riot’s meeting room and saw Jungkook there—looking only slightly different from the music video Luna had shown you before, and remarkably different from your memories.

“And that—this is why I brought this up now,” he said. “It’s all because of you. We broke up, and Sid dragged me to that bar to help me get over you. I sang our song to Hoseok, and he brought Namjoon to convince me to join the band. I wrote “Haunting” about you, and CJ heard it and decided to sign us. We put out several albums, filled with songs I’ve ever written for you, and now we’re on this tour. If it weren’t for you, I just—w-we wouldn’t be here.”

You felt your skin prickle, the sensation quickly turning to a painful sting, and you looked away. Frankly, you did not believe that your influence was this significant—not even after Jungkook had told you that it was. These events seemed like an unbelievable sequence of coincidences that he decided to treat as signs, and you found that you couldn’t breathe if you looked at them as signs, too.

You felt his eyes on you and only meant to glance at him very briefly, but he held your gaze for a few moments longer, watching as a shuddering breath passed your lips. Then he propped himself up on his elbows.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he declared, the look in his eyes so final, so determined that you were almost afraid to move when you met his gaze. “And then I’m not letting you go. I don’t care if Sid texts.”

Your voice was very small. “I don’t care, either.”

“Fuck,” was more of an echo than a real whisper as his lips finally collided with yours. The kiss was deep and vehement and full of everything that had built up inside you over this day alone.

But then his tongue met yours and you realised that this day wasn’t all that special. You could have kissed him at any point of any day, and you would have still felt overwhelmed and aching, and you would have needed him right at the tips of your fingers as much as ever.

He tasted like the chocolate-covered cherry bonbons that he’d bought you because they reminded him of the summer nights you’d spent together. He tasted like the sticky homemade candy that the two of you baked when there were no other sweets in your dorm room and you craved something, but refused to leave, refused to pull away. Like the moments on the balcony of his house after you snuck away from his cousins. Like the rainy walks to class when your hair would be sticking to your face, but you couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop looking at each other.

All the thoughts that had been screaming at you for the past fifteen minutes suddenly quieted down as he leaned closer until he was hovering over you, one of his hands on the side of your face.

He felt shivers on the back of his neck when your tentative fingers found their way to his hair. He exhaled softly against your mouth and stilled momentarily when he heard your quiet whimper in response to his kiss, to his breathing, to him.

The room suddenly spun completely out of control around him.

He needed you so much and for such a long time that every time you were with him, every time you kissed him, he worried that he was dreaming again. So he kissed you harder, held onto you tighter—not wanting to find out if he was asleep, not wanting to wake up.

He unbuttoned your denim jacket without pulling away and slid it off your arms, holding the side of your neck with one of his hands. His kiss was so deep, so riveting that you felt your lungs give up, felt them pack up and leave, forcing you to breathe him instead.

His hands caressed your shoulders, finding the straps of your shirt and sliding them down your arms—and then stopping abruptly when he realised that you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

Exhaling shakily, he pulled back—lightheaded and winded and completely obsessed with you—just to look at you for a minute. There was a playful grin on his lips when he kissed you again.

You pulled away enough to ask, “what?”

“Nothing,” he murmured in-between kisses, “you’re fucking perfect. But I want this off.”

He pulled you closer and you instinctively bucked your hips off the bed, causing a momentary hitch in his breath. He lifted the hem of your shirt, pulling the material up and tracing the invisible symbols on your skin along your ribs, your chest, and your arms. Tossing your shirt aside without looking, he leaned back in, yearning for the feel of your lips on his again and accepting that he could not last one minute without you. Perhaps not even one second.

He felt your hand on his chest, trailing down to the edge of his black t-shirt and distracting him from the kiss with the softness of your touch. You lifted his shirt up to his chest—as far as it would go without breaking the kiss—and felt him hiss at the cold sensation of your bare fingertips on his stomach.

“I’m sorr—” you began, but the second you pulled away to apologise, he leaned in to capture your lips in another kiss.

“No.” His whispers were frenzied against your lips. You could have electrocuted him with your touch, sliced him into pieces with your fingers, and he would have thanked you for it. “No. You—d-don’t apologise. You’re perfect.”

He heard the way you cursed under your breath—under his breath, too—and he found it hard to inhale against the pressure in his stomach, against the tightness in his jeans. He was humming with near desperation when you pulled him closer, running your hands over his arms, your touch gentle enough to truly kill him.

He was frantic, eager to touch you, to feel your arms, your thighs, your chest, your neck—all of you—before someone interrupted you. Before his time with you ended. He knew he had the rest of his life to spend with you, but now he worried it still wouldn’t be enough.

His tongue moved over yours, his kiss deep, rushing, dizzying. He did not need to look to find the button on your pants, unclasp it, and slide the rough material down your thighs, swallowing a moan when he felt you shivering under his touch.

He quickly pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it aside before kissing you again, high on the sound of your lips smacking against each other. He shuddered when your hands unexpectedly met his on the belt of his jeans.

“Let me do it,” you asked in a whisper—but he was wholeheartedly yours at that moment, and you didn’t even have to ask.

“Okay,” he complied, allowing you to gently push him back onto the bed.

Closing his eyes, he savoured the newfound sweetness from your kiss on his tongue. He felt you shuffle closer to him on the bed and had to take a sharp breath when one of your hands slid down his abdomen to his jeans.

You leaned over to kiss him again, and he broke—only capable of lying idly for so long—reaching for you and caressing your shoulders and your arms. He made it almost impossible for you to keep doing what you were doing; unruly wildfires blazed everywhere he touched you.

Jungkook was determined not to break the kiss even as you undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. He thought he did well. But then he lifted his hips off the bed to help you pull his jeans off and you brushed your fingers over the bulge in his boxers—your touch featherlight against the material—and he was very nearly finished.

He whimpered lightly into the kiss, his breaths growing heavier, his hands growing greedier. You made sure to hold one of his hands in yours to prevent him from flipping you over on the bed, and he responded to that by cheating: he held onto you tighter and attempted to pull you closer every time he gently bit your bottom lip and you got distracted by the pleasant sting.

Finally, you managed to slide his boxers down his thighs, catching each of his heavy breaths on your tongue. You pulled back, and he was about to protest until he saw you throw one of your legs over his, straddling his hips.

He watched you slide your panties down your legs while hovering over his thighs and he wasn’t sure how long ago he’d stopped blinking. Mesmerised by the sight, he didn’t immediately rush to assist you in maintaining your balance as you lifted one knee off the bed.

Once he recovered enough to remember to inhale, he sat up and pulled you flush to his chest. You gasped in surprise when he hooked his fingers behind the waistband of your panties and slid them down your legs faster.

“I said let me do it,” you reminded him with a pout, and he kissed you instead of replying, too impatient to wait.

Your hands slipped down his chest and your hips bucked into his just barely, but he exhaled deeply, breaking the kiss. You used the moment while he was dazed to push him back into the pillows.

He fell back on the bed, knowing very well that he’d been in this position before—with you on top of him, your fingers tracing over his length before finally wrapping around the base—but he still shivered, throwing his head back into the pillows. He still kept his eyes fixed on your face when you started to move your hand in gentle strokes, killing him a little more with each movement of your wrist.

“Fuck,” he sighed. “At least let—l-let me touch you.”

He phrased it like a request, but he did not mean it like one. You didn’t resist when he reached for you, his hands travelling over your thighs, lingering on your lower back, squeezing your ass, and pulling your hips into his.

One of your hands had come to rest on his chest for support while you continued to stroke his length in deliberately slow, languid motions. You could feel him getting harder under your touch, and you closed your eyes, your teeth sinking into your lip.

He could not look away from you. He wanted to be the one to bite your lips, but he couldn’t move close enough to you with your hands on him. He settled for exploring the skin on your hips, sliding his hands up and down your thighs. Soon, you felt the tips of his fingers brush lightly over your stomach and then descend lower to slip between your folds.

He exhaled deeply through his mouth when he felt how wet you were, and that was enough for him—he would have found a way to hold you tightly against his chest even if you were across the world from him.

In a flash, he was sitting up, connecting your lips again and bringing his tongue over yours while he gathered the wetness between your folds with his thumb. Your grip on his length tightened instinctively, and Jungkook groaned, automatically applying more pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves on your clit—just enough to have you arch your back into him.

He felt you move faster, squeezing the base and speeding up until your fingers brushed over his tip. Trying to fight back a moan, he reflexively bucked his hips into your hand while two of his fingers teased your entrance, sliding over your wet folds in a teasing, tickling motion. You broke the kiss, sighing and dropping your head on his shoulder.

He didn’t give you much time to catch your breath—you didn’t give him any of that, so he thought this was only fair—as he kissed along your jaw, gently sucking on a spot on the nape of your neck. His fingers continued stimulating your clit with a combination of light, fast circles and harder, slower strokes that he knew would make you break for him.

“F-fuck, wait,” you exhaled, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. “I w-want you.”

“You have me, my love,” he whispered back, running his tongue over the faint mark he’d left on the sensitive skin of your neck and humming, his tone gravelly and rasp, when you hissed at the feeling. “All of me.”

You gripped his wrist tighter. “Lie back.”

He didn’t immediately obey, opting to use his only free hand—the one you couldn’t hold, because you needed both hands to stop his determined fingers from drawing you any closer to the edge—to squeeze your ass and pull your hips over his length instead.

“Lie back,” you ordered again, your words firm, but breathless. It started a raging flame in his lower stomach, but he still resisted a little more—kissing you again, sucking on your tongue, sliding his hands over your thighs, and nearly making you lose it before he finally leaned back against the pile of pillows.

Jungkook still thought he was doing fairly well, considering the burning on his skin and inside him, but watching you unwrap a condom package and slide the latex down his length—torturously slowly, it seemed to him, to really test his limits—he thought he might lose it, after all.

You felt him jerk slightly in your hand, sensitive as you rolled the condom down his length, and your deep exhale blended with his sharp inhale. He locked the sound of your breathing somewhere deep in his mind, too focused on your touch to revel in it right now, but far too inspired by the response your body had to his to forget it altogether.

He bit his lip, his eyes locked on yours as you positioned yourself over his length. He was convinced that you were teasing him on purpose when you brought his tip closer to your entrance and then paused. He could already feel the wetness of your folds on him, and the second he lifted his hands to touch you, he was forced to let them drop in utter defeat when you finally slid his tip in.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of your tight, warm walls as you struggled to take all of him in at once, and stopped, most cruelly, halfway in.

You looked breathtaking on top of him and there wasn’t a single coherent thought in his mind, so he couldn’t offer to help you anymore, couldn’t even guide you down on his length. He could barely stay still, biting his lip and clutching the sheets so he wouldn’t ram his hips into yours.

“You’ll kill me,” he whispered in a strained voice when you lifted your hips again, sliding his length over your folds, but not slipping it back inside.

Finally, you lowered yourself on him again, taking all of him in, inch by inch, and a soft sigh escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. “O-oh.”

You had to suppress another whimper when your hips met his, the stretch of his length stinging pleasantly. He hissed at the feeling, his hands flying to your hips to keep you in place.

His touch reminded you of Amsterdam suddenly: of the way he had held you, the way he had felt after all these years.

You wanted him so much that it no longer felt like a simple wish. He felt like a necessity and you could not understand how you’d ever managed to go on with your day when he wasn’t in the room with you.

You needed a moment to adjust to him and Jungkook watched you all through it. Even though he was barely able to keep his eyes open, he took in all of your reactions as the initial sting subsided and your hips twitched against his.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Move for me, love. Please?”

You sighed as his endearing words—and the loving lilt in his voice—lit up your stomach and made you involuntarily clench around him. He groaned, digging his fingers into your hips. You had told him to lie back, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could obey.

Finally, you began to move and he threw his head back, swallowing hard at the feeling. You rotated your hips in slow circles, allowing his entire length to delicately rub the walls inside you, and he could not remember when he’d last felt you like this. He could not remember anything outside this room, and when you rested both of your hands on his chest for balance, he seemed to forget his own name, too.

“Fuck,” was a soft, jagged breath that got caught in his throat as he watched you in the dimly lit room. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to make out your silhouette, and he squeezed your ass tighter so he wouldn’t immediately lose it at the sight.

You drew back all of a sudden, placing one hand on his chest and resting the other against the mattress, right by his arm. You pulled your bottom lip in with your teeth as you lifted your hips, then slowly lowered yourself on him again. It took you a moment to find your rhythm, and Jungkook parted his lips, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth every time your thighs met his.

You shifted your weight to your knees to increase the pace and he nearly choked on his breath when you placed your hands on his shoulders and bounced your hips against his, his length gliding against your velvety walls.

“Y-you—oh, fuck. You look s-so beautiful,” he stammered, his hands travelling from your hips to your waist, then back down again.

Love and lust burned in his darkened eyes when he looked up at you, his hair falling in messy curls around his face. His chest rose and fell underneath you, the muscles on his abdomen tightening each time you sank down on him again.

You watched him like this and you changed your mind about describing him; an adjective that would fit him had not been invented yet.

You tried to respond to his words, but he suddenly lifted his hips off the bed to meet you halfway and knocked all breath out of your lungs, forcing a soft whine to pass your lips instead as you leaned into him, losing your balance.

It was starting to get too much—how deeply he reached inside of you, how tightly he held onto you—and Jungkook noticed it right away. Squeezing your hips, he adjusted his position by bending his knees for a better angle and bouncing you on his lap very slowly once, then twice, before pulling you into his chest and thrusting into you faster.

Curses and almost desperate whines fell from your lips, matching the rhythm of his skin slapping against yours. He knew he had hit your sweet spot when he felt your nails digging into his chest, when you tightened around him, when your strained breaths got louder, when your teeth grazed his collarbone—and he growled, gripping your hips tighter and trapping you against his chest with his other arm.

“Jungkook—” you panted, barely able to speak, and the sound of his name on your lips ignited the room around him.

He grunted softly and flipped you both to your sides, pulling your back into his chest by wrapping his arms around your waist and chest, his grip firm, deliberately inescapable, but his fingers gentle as he teased your nipples. His thrusts were slower at this new angle, but now they were deep and hard. It was your increased breathing and louder, uncontrollable chants of his name that encouraged him to speed up.

“Fuck,” he exhaled. And again, louder when you clenched around him, “f-fuck.”

This position allowed him to reach even deeper inside you and the way your walls sucked him in was as blissful as it was worrisome—he wanted this to last, and he didn’t think it would. Not when he had you so close to him, inhaling the scent of your apple shampoo, peppering breathy kisses on the side of your neck, feeling the goosebumps that he brought to your skin when he caressed your nipples, and thinking he might actually explode every time your body jolted against his with each one of his thrusts.

He slid one of his hands down your navel and kept his palm right above your entrance for a distracted minute, feeling himself move in and out of you, and groaning into your shoulder before lowering his hand to your clit. You writhed against him as he rubbed on a soft, gummy spot there, bringing you dangerously close to your high.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimpered, almost helplessly clutching his arm that was wrapped around your chest. “I’m—s-so close.”

“I’m here, my love,” he whispered. “Come for me.”

Anything you were going to say died on your tongue when you felt his lips on your neck again. His fingers continued to massage the soft spot between your folds and your walls clenched and pulsated around him with each thrust of his hips. White clouds gathered on the edges of your vision and a low moan passed your lips as the knot in your stomach tightened.

Jungkook felt you tremble in his arms and pulled you into his chest harder. Keeping quiet had stopped being an option for you when he pressed on your clit with the pillows of his fingers, his hips continuously drilling into you—he remembered the spot you liked, and he made sure to hit it every time. He felt you tighten again, so close to your peak, and he relished in your loud whimpers.

Pulling his lip ring in with his teeth, he held you tightly against him to maintain a steady pace, his strokes assured and calculated, to push you completely over the edge. He fell impossibly more in love with you when his name got caught in your throat with your breath.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he cooed as you writhed in his arms, coming down from your high. “S-so pretty—oh, fuck, my love—when you come for me.”

The anticipation of his own climax soon caused his hips to start moving with a certain frenzy, and he pulled all the way out before plunging himself into you again and fully bottoming out.

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” he grunted breathlessly, twitching inside of you.

His hips stilled completely and he cursed again, spilling himself into the condom. Groaning deeply, he drove his hips into yours instinctively, this way prolonging his pleasure and the time he spent watching you bite your lip in an attempt to stay quiet. He thought he heard you whisper a breathless I love you and he was convinced he came again just at the sound of it.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck and his voice cracked in the middle of his breathless chants, “fuck, I love you so much—I-I love you so fucking much—”

He still didn’t release his grip on you, lifting his head to kiss your neck again, while the two of you tried to recover and accepted, eventually, that you probably never truly would.

“Fuck,” he exhaled. Then, again, from the back of his throat, “fuck.”

You turned around as much as you could with his arms around you, and met his lips with your own, humming into the kiss and causing him to lose his sanity again—although, to be perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure if he’d even regained it yet.

Your bodies remained locked in an almost desperate embrace for another minute, your lips moving leisurely against each other as your breaths mingled and the room—but not your hearts—quieted down.

Unfortunately, you had to strain your neck to kiss him from this position, and Jungkook ended up having to let go of you. He pulled out carefully—the gentle contact still making you hiss from sensitivity—and helped you roll to your other side to face him.

After pressing another kiss to your lips, he grabbed a stray pillow and placed it next to your head. He touched your chin gently, prompting you to lift your head so he could slide the pillow underneath.

You smiled at the unnecessary, but very appreciated gesture. “I love you.”

His chest contemplated bursting.

“I love you,” he replied. “So much that I am not—I don’t want you to leave this room. Or my bed, actually. I want to stay with you every second of every day, and I’m okay if every court would qualify me as insane for that.”

You snickered into the pillow, your expression radiant. “I don’t think you’re insane.”

He grinned and got up to discard the condom before climbing back into bed.

“And I want to stay, too,” you added, closing your eyes.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek as he got comfortable on the bed. “Not just tonight, but always?”

“Of course,” you whispered, your voice turning lighter, “but I do have my own room.”

He settled in his spot next to you and draped an arm over your waist with a soft grunt. “Fuck if I knew why.”

He pulled back slightly to see your laughter. You didn’t seem like you were going to object or tell him that you should leave, but he still caressed your cheek, bringing his fingers over the smile lines by your lips that he had caused. His heart fought fiercely against his mind at the sight of them. He was almost ready to call Rated Riot’s next song “Smile Lines” and just sigh dreamily into the microphone for five minutes while Yoongi played gentle piano chords in the background.

“I think you should stay with me everywhere we go,” he said, leaning in to connect your lips in a deep, lingering kiss. His voice was a whisper against your mouth, “so we could do this again. And again. And again.”

You broke the kiss—and he would have been very upset about that, but you did that to laugh again, and he understandably forgot everything he was thinking of doing.

“You have a show tomorrow,” you reminded him gently, your eyes warm.

He shrugged. “So we’ll have to take a break for a few hours.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to contain your smile to an appropriate level. “Hmm.”

He rested his forehead against yours. “Sounds good?”

“You are messing with my head,” you whispered.

He grinned, pressing his lips to yours again. “I love you.”

You kissed him back but made sure to click your lips in feigned disapproval as you pulled away. “What did I just say?”

“You messed with mine first,” he countered, his quiet laughter blending with the warmth of your kiss.

He had already stolen all air from your lungs, robbed your mind of every thought you possessed before him, and kept your heart hostage—and now he was beaming like he knew very well he’d done all that. Like he wasn’t one bit sorry about ingraining himself in your life so much that it felt like you shared one soul, and it had stayed with him after you broke up: forcing him to suffer from the weight of it, while you searched for something missing inside you.

“I love you,” you said again. Your words were a whisper and they got lost on his tongue but found their way to his heart anyway.

Planting a few quick, butterfly kisses to your lips, he leaned back against the pillows, keeping his palm on the side of your face so he could rub gentle circles over your cheek with his thumb.

He loved you, and sometimes this love was all that he could think about.

Other times, however, the shadows in the room grew just a little darker.

“Sid hasn’t replied, huh?” he asked quietly, reluctantly.

You sighed, shaking your head. Your phone had been silent all night, and the more you tried to ignore the silence, the more noticeable it became.

“Should I text him?” he suggested. “To poke the bear a little.”

You frowned and felt your stomach sink—a feeling that Jungkook made even worse by pulling away from you and allowing for the brutal, cold air of the room to fill the space where his hand had been.

“What do you mean?” you asked, sitting up.

He rolled over to grab his phone from the nightstand.

You moved closer to be able to see the screen over his shoulder. You frowned the whole time, but it really did not take Jungkook more than a minute to compose a message that almost sparked an argument between the two of you.

After some relatively mild back and forth—consisting of your annoyed, “I told you I want to keep you out of this” that was followed immediately by his melodramatic, “I’m doing this because I love you”—the two of you reached a compromise.

Look, his text to Sid read. I know you’ve been texting my girlfriend. Stop. Let’s keep this shit between us.

This wasn’t the full truth. After sending you a few mocking texts after he posted that picture to his Instagram, Sid hadn’t texted you anything else. You weren’t sure if this would even provoke a response, but Jungkook was convinced. He sent the text and pulled you back onto the pillows despite your protests.

“I’m sure it’ll only be a few minutes,” he said. “Until he texts you.”

Sure enough, he did.

Just as you lied down next to Jungkook, just as he intertwined your hands, his fingers toying with yours, just as you were about to forget your phone altogether—just then, the text finally came.

Your eyes widened, but Jungkook had the decency not to gloat. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you until the beating of your heart returned to a reasonable pace. Then he let you sit up again and reach for your phone.

Sid’s message read, “eager to talk to me now?:)” and you breathed out a sigh of relief as soon as you showed the text to Jungkook.

“Alright,” you said, content. You didn’t even need to respond to him anymore, he’d already started the next step of your plan. “Now we’re good to go.”

Jungkook, smiled, nodding and extending his hand to pat the bed. You lied back down and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to feel your skin against his again. His breathing was soft on your neck and you smiled back, finally losing yourself in the calming darkness of his room and the warmth of his touch.

For one blissful minute, you focused on his breathing and traced the edges of his tattoos, and felt as though nothing bad, nothing hurtful or upsetting had ever happened to either of you.

“Will we be okay, do you think?” you asked wearily. “Tomorrow.”

He was taken aback by the question, you could tell from the way his breathing increased, but his response was quick and certain.

“We’re already okay,” he said. “Today and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and the day—”

“I love you,” you interjected softly, successfully stopping him.

“Thank you,” he said. “I would have kept going.”

You grinned. “I know you would have.”

He snickered, pulling you closer until you nestled your face into his neck and rested your hands on his chest, tapping, every now and then, to the beat of his heart.

“Sleep,” he whispered. “For a few hours, at least.”

You leaned your head back enough to press a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips instead of replying.

Jungkook hummed and melted into you, easing his grip to give you some space to breathe, but still remaining attached to you like he was a part of you and you were a part of him.

He could have stayed with you like this, he thought, for the rest of his life. And for at least a hundred more lives after that.

chapter title credits: sleep token, “give”

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[jackhues]

YOU'RE NOT MY FAVOURITE - PADDOCK PASS, BABY [ PART SIX ]

in which y/n hamilton is trying to fight the menace allegations (japan24)

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y/nhamilton

liked by pierregasly, kikacgomes, charles_leclerc & others

y/nhamilton: last week at a glance

pinned y/nhamilton: guys nico is fine, he told me himself. -> user: but did he lie to you? -> y/nhamilton: he wouldn't dare

user: omgg the cherry blossoms are so pretty

user: who'd you go bumper cars with? -> y/nhamilton: mick, george, logan, and oscar!

carlossainz55: 🌻🌻 -> y/nhamilton: 🌼🌼

maxverstappen1: no podium pics? this is the second time. i'd like to file a complaint -> y/nhamilton: hello mr. verstappen. to file a complaint, we have a procedure. step one: create a written statement declaring sir lewis hamilton as the 2021 world champion and forsake that title. we will be in contact with you after completion of that step -> user: oh my god girl, get over it. max won fair and square -> maxverstappen1: get off of her page. you're not going to get involved in something that is clearly a joke, something that's been going on for years, and that we're both okay with. -> y/nhamilton: go off mad max

charles_leclerc: hey i was dotd! why am i not up there? -> y/nhamilton: sharl, do you see a single face up there? this is a faceless post -> charlec_leclerc: i'd like to file a complaint -> y/nhamilton: your complaint is noted, balled up, and thrown into the trash -> charles_leclerc: @/lewishamilton your little menace is bullying me again -> lewishamilton: i warned all of you. no one listened to me -> pierregasly: seb said you were exaggerating -> sebastianvettel: is it bad that i wanted my pseudo child to make friends? -> y/nhamilton: why are you all talking about me like i'm some menace who's sole purpose is to wreak havoc? -> charles_leclerc: you are -> pierregasly: you are -> alex_albon: you are -> oscarpiastri: you are -> y/nhamilton: you're all pricks. this is why logan and max are my favs -> logansargeant: thanks broski -> landonorris: HEY! I'M NOT BULLYING YOU -> y/nhamilton: you're also not giving my bracelet back -> landonorris: ... fair

user: love when there's driver lore in the comments

user: oh what i'd give to be y/n hamilton

olliebearman: side eying the mercedes gear slide -> y/nhamilton: my dad still drives for them!! -> olliebearman: mhm okay... -> kimi.antonelli: you should be side eyeing the ferrari car slide -> y/nhamilton: CARLOS PHOTOBOMBED ME! NOT MY FAULT

---

TAGLIST: @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @somepeoplemaybe , @nothaqks , @theforevermorereject , @thatonesblog , @deviltsunoda , @xoscar03 , @mess-is-my-aesthetic , @d3kstar , @bwormie , @ietts , @sapphiccloud , @helaenatargaryensfavoritebug , @urfavsgf , @raevyng , @khaylin27 , @champomiel , @nikfigueiredo , @danabom1633 , @sugarvibez , @topgunmav1df1 , @alliwantisadonut , @screamforstark , @lifewasawillow7 , @woozarts , @e-nonsense , @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh , @stinkyjax , @certifiedlesbianbaddie , @ecsta-ccy <3

send a message/comment/ask to be added to the taglist!

NOTE: sorry for the long wait, i've got exams going on right now :( don't forget to like + reblog <3

[rafecameroninterlude]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲

pairing: dealer!rafe x fem!pogue!reader

summary: ❝i got you where i want you, you’re deader than ever, and falling for forever.❞ — a deal gone wrong leads to you and rafe being stuck in the same room together.

warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity (kinda), playful banter, bickering, mild slut shaming, mentions of drugs, dealing of drugs, mentions of violence, dirty talk, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, baby trapping threats, finger sucking, slight degradation, slapping, cream pie

word count: 2.7k

a/n: series masterlist

“i need the both of you to just calm down, alright?” barry stepped between you and rafe, both of you glaring at each other with a dangerous glint in your eyes. “if he’s in, then i’m out. i’m not gonna work with a fucking kook.” you spat, shoving barry’s hand away. “yeah? well i don’t wanna work with you either, pogue.” rafe shot back. “y’all don’t have a choice a’ight? i can’t go anywhere with this fuckin’ monitor on my ankle, so i need you two to do this deal for me. i’ll double the pay for the inconvenience.” barry cursed under his breath, plopping down on the couch.

rafe gave you a once over, his eyes lingering on your exposed cleavage. “where’d you even find this girl, barry? she looks like a walking felony.” you didn’t miss the way rafe licked his lips before taking a seat. you scoffed, fixing your top. “please, you want to talk about what i’m wearing? what about that collar? what are you, nine?” barry shook his heaad. “yeah, i’m nine in my pants, babe. wanna find out?” rafe leaned back in his chair, chewing on his gum as he looked up at you. “aw, you wish.” you blew him a kiss, rolling your eyes when he blew you one back.

“alright, listen. y’all are gonna meet up with this guy on the south side. let him give you the money first, and then you give him the blow. standard shit.” barry shrugged, handing you the bag with the stuff. “rafe, i already sent you the meeting place, so just come back as soon as you can.” you pulled your mini skirt down as you walked past him, his eyes burning into your skin. “this guy.. is he dangerous?” you turned around, rafe already on your tail. “not really, he knows me, you should be fine.” rafe shooed you out the door, his fingertips skimming your lower back. “watch your hands, asshole.” he laughed, watching your hips sway as you walked to his truck.

“it’s a shame you’re such a bitch, you’re pretty hot.” he started driving away from barry’s trailer. “and you’re not.” you tucked the bag in your side, checking your lip gloss in the mirror. rafe would never admit it out loud, but he loved your snappy attitude. all the girls he encountered were too nice, and too willing to let him do whatever he wanted. he liked a challenge, and you didn’t fail to give him that. “just so you know, i’m doing all the talking when we get there.” you two spent the rest of the ride making smart remarks to one another until finally, the house came into view.

“you stay here, i’ll be right back.” he reached over, eyes flickering down to your lips before grabbing the bag. you watched him walk inside, salivating at the sight of his muscles moving under his shirt. time moved fast, and before you knew it, rafe had already been gone for twenty minutes. “where is he?” you muttered to yourself, glancing at the front door. you don’t know why but you had an awful feeling about this. cursing under your breath, you did the last thing anyone should do, and got off the truck.

making your way up the steps to the front door, you hesitantly knocked, waiting anxiously for someone to answer. sure enough, a guy wearing all black opened the door, two more men behind him. “hi, um- i’m a friend of barry’s, and someone else came in here a while ago, i was wondering if he’s almost done, with the deal i mean.” the guy gave you a once over. “is he your boyfriend or somethin’?” you shook your head immediately.

“god, no! i have somewhere to be and he’s taking long, i just need him to come back already.” you hid your phone in the waistband of your skirt as you stepped in, the sound of the door locking making you turn around. there was no sign of rafe anywhere, and your skin was starting to crawl with the way the whole room stared you down. “you know what.. i’ll just go wait for him the way i was- ow!” you yelped when you felt someone pick you up, their arms practically digging in your ribcage as they dragged you down a dark hallway.

rafe heard you screaming, shooting up from the bed as he fought to open the door. “you’re hurting me!” you cried, whimpering when he threw you into the same room that rafe was in. “you didn’t have to manhandle her, asshole!” he shouted, helping you up from the floor. once you gained your balance, you pushed him away. “you don’t need to do that.” a small flash of hurt passed over rafe’s face as he took a few steps back. “why the fuck did you get off the truck?” he started pacing back and forth, holding his head in his hands.

“you were taking forever, i just wanted to see if you were okay! oh my god, is that a crime?” you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “you push me away when i’m checking on you, but you enter a stranger’s house to make sure i’m alright? how does that work?” he laughed bitterly, a small gasp leaving your lips when you spotted blood on his knuckles. “who knows what they’re gonna do to us now..” he cursed under his breath, making your eyebrows knit in confusion. “what are you talking about?” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“barry must’ve given us the wrong bag. they weighed everything after they gave me the money, and they were two kilos short. ‘now they think i’m trying to run a play on them.” he sat down. “after they kicked my ass i told them i came alone and they just put me in here.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated groan emitting from his throat. you stayed silent for a moment. “why did you tell them you were by yourself?” you finally asked. “so that they wouldn’t look in the truck and take you next, but it looks like you saved them the work and did it yourself.” he looked over at you, fully expecting you to shoot back with something sarcastic, but instead he was met with your teary eyes.

“i figured you’d just leave with the truck and tell barry something was up.” you glared at him. “you thought i would just leave you here? i may be a bitch, rafe, but i’m not heartless.” he nodded. “yeah i’m gathering that.” you sniffled, suddenly remembering that you were crying in front of this man. “i’m gonna get us out of here, alright?” you wiped your cheeks, getting up to check the windows. “they’re bolted shut, i already tried.” you groaned, plopping back down on the bed with a sigh. “well i guess it’s a good thing i brought my phone.” you took out the device, tapping on barry’s contact.

rafe looked at you in disbelief, taking the phone from your hands as he pressed it against his ear. “fuck, he’s not answering.” he whispered, calling him once more. “give me it!” you grabbed it, making rafe roll his eyes. “hello?” barry spoke into the receiver. “hey, dickhead, you shorted us and now we’re in deep shit.” rafe shushed you, his eyes widening as the lock on the door started rattling. “you better get us out of this!” you hung up, stuffing the phone in your pocket at the same time one of the guys walked in.

“what are you two huddled up in the corner for?” he arched a brow. rafe cleared his throat. “what? i can’t talk to my girl?” you blinked, flashing the man in black an awkward smile. “look, i don’t care what you do, boss man is trying to figure out a way to get the rest of what he paid for. your guy isn’t the easiest person to get ahold of.” you eyed the gun in the waistband of his belt. “yeah, well you tell ‘boss man’ that we’re just delivering, we don’t have anything to do with the missing blow.” he waved you off, locking the door behind him. rafe’s shoulders fell in relief. “you need to watch that mouth of yours.” rafe grabbed you, backing you up into the wall.

“or what?” he clenched his jaw, the last band of patience he had left, snapping. without warning, he dragged you over to the bed, climbing on top of you as you gazed up at him. “alright, you know what? let’s settle this shit right now. bickering with you was fun the first ten minutes, now it’s just pissing me off. what’s your problem?” the rough material of his jeans scratched against your skin. “one minute you’re insulting me, and then you’re getting down to check on me in the middle of a deal, the next. sounds like you’re having trouble picking a side.” he laughed. “i’m the one having trouble picking a side? i can’t tell if you hate me most of the time or if you want to fuck me.” it was your turn to laugh.

he studied you, letting his eyes wander to where your tits practically spilled out of your top. rafe would be lying if he said he didn’t regularly think of having his way with you, sometimes wishing he could stuff his cock in your mouth to shut you up. “and what if i do?” he ran a hand down your arm, watching as your nipples hardened through your blouse. “you hate me? i hate you too,” you shivered, taking your top off, revealing your bare chest to him, “you want to fuck me? i want to fuck you too.” rafe cursed, the sight of you underneath him, topless and pretty, forever ingrained into his brain.

“i don’t think i should give you what you want.” he cupped your tits, squeezing as hard as he can before rolling your nipples between his fingers. you hissed at the pain, a smile forming on your lips as you palmed him through his pants. “it looks like you want me more than i want you,” you giggled, eyeing the erection in his pants. “how pathetic.” rafe wanted nothing more than to fuck you until you were a crying mess for him, and he wasn’t going to leave from here until that happened. without another word, he yanked you up, flipping you over on your tummy as he pulled your skirt and underwear down in one swift motion.

you gasped, letting out a yelp when his hand came down and smacked your ass. he kicked your legs apart, wasting no time in running his fingers between your folds. he gritted his teeth at the sight. you were glistening with how wet you were. he groaned, pulling a handful of your hair, forcing you to look at his digits before bringing them to your lips. “you’ve been soaked all fucking day,” he watched as you sucked on his fingers, moaning at the taste of yourself, “how pathetic.” rafe used your words against you as he forced your head into the sheets. you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together as you heard the clink of his belt, the heavy leather snapping against the skin of your thigh.

“fuck,” you whimpered. rafe rubbed the now reddening skin, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “someone can walk in here at any moment, so i’d suggest you shut the fuck up.” his jeans pooled at his ankles as he lifted your hips in the air, using one hand to arch your back, and the other to line himself up with your entrance. you had to cover your mouth in order to muffle the moans falling from your lips as the head of rafe’s cock stroked your clit. “fuck, ‘been wanting to do this for a long time.” with a small groan, rafe pushed himself inside of you, your velvety walls fluttering around the welcomed intrusion.

“holy shit.” his head rolled to the side, his eyebrows knitting in pleasure. “you feel so fucking good.” he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling the makeshift ponytail as he thrusted into you. your mouth fell open in a silent moan, a small cry emitting from your mouth. “don’t want you to stop.” you whined, looking back at rafe with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. one look at your face made him curse under his breath, your eyes sparkling under the soft light of the room. “you’re so fucking pretty, baby.” he cupped your cheeks, taking your lips in a searing kiss.

your eyes fluttered shut as rafe pushed your head down once more. “m’gonna make you take every inch of this fuckin’ cock.” you pulled away momentarily, glancing up at him through your eyelashes. “you’re not in all the way?” rafe smiled, shaking his head. “i’m only at about half.” as if on cue, rafe’s hand came up to cover your mouth, muffling your scream when he fully pushed himself into you. the feeling of his cock filling you up to the hilt was unlike anything you ever felt before. rafe was doing everything he could to contain himself. embarrassingly enough for him, he felt like he was well on his way to cumming inside you.

he looked down, absolutely mesmerized by the way your pussy took him with ease. “oh my, fuck!” you reached back, holding onto his wrist as your hips started to meet his thrusts. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, both of you not caring who heard anymore. rafe grunted, pulling out as he flipped you over on your back. “i wanna see your face.” he breathed, his fingers attacking your clit. your nails raked down his chest, stars exploding from behind your irises. rafe felt his balls tighten as he neared his climax. “are you on the pill?” he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

you blinked slowly, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment. “no..” you blinked slowly, a whimper falling from your lips as rafe lightly slapped your cheek. “no?” his jaw clenched, the revelation somehow turning him on even more. “i could baby trap you right now, ‘make you stay inside the house the way you’re supposed to,” your eyes rolled back as your thighs started trembling around his waist. rafe’s hips stuttered once he felt you clenching around him. “you’d want that, wouldn’t you? ‘wanna be taken care of?” you nodded, your orgasm hitting at the same time rafe filled you up with his load. he pulled you into his chest, keeping you still as you writhed beneath him.

“rafe!” you cried, tears threatening to spill at the overstimulation. “i know,” he kissed the crown of your head, “fuckin’ hell, i know.” he groaned, slowly coming to a stop. you were still dazed, your fingers running across his buzzed head as you reveled in the feeling of his weight on top of you. the two of you laid in silence, rafe’s chin resting in the crook of your neck. “are you okay?” he pressed a kiss against your skin, gazing down at you in all your sex afterglow.

you smiled shyly, making him stroke the side of your face. “we should give ‘not hating each other’ a try.” rafe helped you get dressed, putting his own clothes on soon after. “yeah, we should. you kinda cummed inside me, so..” he nodded, his lips forming a straight line. “yeah, i did. are you freaked out by that? ‘cause i’m not.” you laughed at how nonchalant he was at the whole thing. “i guess if you’re not, then i’m not.” you shrugged. he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “you’re a little misogynistic when you’re horny.” he hummed. “yeah? well, you came right after i said you belong in the house.” just as you were about to shoot back with something, the door slammed open.

“your guy came through with the stuff, both of you freaks could leave now.”

[justauthoring]

jerk [2].

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.

a/n: the LARGELY requested part two! honestly, i'd be willing to write more parts if people wanted :) this part ended up being more about the girls and y/ns friendship but i couldn't help myself - if you guys want some fluff with bakugou for future parts, just let me know!

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part one.

“You’re hiding something from us.”

There’s a beat of silence, then another, then another and when finally, you realize you should say something, you blink, sputtering out a barely believable; “no i’m not.”

Mina and Jirou glance at each other, then behind them at the rest of the girls, and you feel a layer of sweat build up when you realize all of your female classmates are here, surrounding you, demanding an answer. And you’ve never really been all that good at lying before, it’s how Bakugou was able to figure out the whole “i’m your soulmate thing” rather quickly and it had only taken him as long as it had because, well, it was Bakugou.

So, to put it bluntly, you’re screwed.

“Come on, Y/N,” Mina laughs, “that wasn’t even remotely believable.”

You know it’s written across your face, your eyes wide and your lips parted and you’re sure you look like quite the picture in that moment surrounded by every single female student in your class, a group of girls you considered your friends but were feeling considerably more like your interrogators in that moment. 

But you have to at least try.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you repeat, this time taking special care to make sure your voice is even and somewhat believable. “I’m just… tired. It’s been throwing my balance off. Sorry guys.”

You really are because you have been weird recently and you were hiding things (even if you were desperate for them not to know that) so the sincerity was there and it seems to be enough because they all glance at each other, frowning, and you can literally see the determination fade as Momo speaks up first.

“You have been leaving to train a lot,” she agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s no wonder you’re so tired. But you should still try to get some rest, don’t push yourself so hard.”

You let out a breath of relief, trying not to let it show as some of the girls shuffle back to walk away, until—

“Wait, that reminds me!”

It’s Jirou who calls it out and you feel yourself freeze.

“She hasn’t been training!”

Eyes widening, you turn to look at Jirou. She’s grinning your way, her figure pointed in your direction, clearly pleased she’d caught you in your lie.

“Jirou,” Uraraka calls out, confused. “What are you–”

“Two nights ago when she left to go training, I followed her, thinking we could train together… she wasn’t there.”

They gasp. Literally gasp.

“Now that you mention it,” Froppy nods, finger held to her chin in thought. “I haven’t actually seen her in the gym very often… nor does she look particularly like a person who’s just trained when she comes back.”

Their eyes fall on you and you take a step back.

“Y/N—”

And then you just run.

-

“I can’t believe she just ran!”

“I know!”

“Guys, I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“Who?”

Mina’s lips are left parted at the sound of Kirishima’s voice, all the girls turning to face him in the living room where he’s sat with the rest of the class.

“Y/N,” Mina explains with a huff, falling into the couch dramatically. “She’s been ditching us constantly and always leaving right after we return from class with some excuse. When we tried to ask her about it today, she lied and then when we caught on to her lie, she ran! Literally just bolting down the hallway before we could even blink.”

Kirishima frowns, glancing over to Denki on his left.

“That doesn’t sound like Y/N,” Deku calls out from across the room, head tilted in curiosity. “Especially to lie to you guys.”

“I know!” Mina calls out, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 

“Like I said,” Uraraka speaks up, trying to remain calm. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Maybe something’s wrong…”

“You think she could be in danger?” Shoto asks, quirking a brow. 

Uraraka shrugs; “I don’t know… I hope not.”

Everyone falls silent, worried expressions plastered on their faces.

“Wait, Kirishima… bro.” Denki calls, reaching to shake Kirishima aggressively, to which the red-haired boy swats his hands away, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Hasn’t Bakubro been disappearing a lot too?”

All the girls straighten out.

Kirishima just shakes his head; “Bakugou is always disappearing. You know he doesn’t like hanging with us a lot.”

“No, Denki’s right,” Sero nods, “even if he isn’t hanging with us, he’s usually in his room or in the gym. Recently, he just completely disappears.”

“I guess you’re right…” Kirishima frowns.

“Wait,” Jirou calls out, “what are you saying? That Bakugou is disappearing with Y/N?”

“That’s crazy,” Mina brushes off. “I’ve never even seen the two talk to each other unless they’re forced to–wait.”

Everyone's eyes snap to hers, wide.

“What?”

“You don’t think… no. It’s not possible.”

“Oh my god,” Denki cries out suddenly, leaning forward with a manic look in his eyes. “Bakubro is hurting Y/N!”

“Wait–”

“No way!” Kirishima calls out, turning to Denki. “Bakugou is a lot of things, but he would never hurt somebody intentionally. Especially not a girl. That’s not manly. Right, Midoriya?”

“Right,” Deku nods confidently, before pausing; “I think?”

“Hey!”

“Guys, no!” Mina cuts in, shaking her hands widely before her. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay…” Momo nods, “then what?”

She leans in, pausing for dramatic effect. “He could be… her soulmate!”

There’s silence, then, “no way.”

Mina’s face falls; “why not?”

“Bakugou? Having a soulmate?” Jirou snorts, “I doubt that.”

“Everybody has one!”

“Okay, the odds of him actually caring about his soulmate are slim to none,” Froppy offers in response.

“Yeah,” Deku nods, “I've never once seen Kacchan show interest in his soulmate like… ever.”

Kirishima shakes his head; “even I have to admit that’s so not manly.”

Everyone shuffles around agreements but Mina is quick to argue; “have any of you guys ever seen Bakugou’s soulmate mark?” Slowly, one by one, all glancing at each other, the guys shake their heads. Mina then turns to the girls. “Okay, have any of you ever seen Y/N’s? Cause she’s never shown or told me.”

The girls all shake their heads.

“So how can you really know?” Mina raises a brow, “I mean, Y/N is always so secretive about her mark. She refuses to tell me.”

-

“Bakugou, we have—”

“Katsuki.”

Coming to a sharp halt, lips left parted, you blink up at Bakugou.

With a grin, Bakugou gently shuts your mouth with a hand to your jaw, laughing lightly; “say Katsuki. That’s my name.”

You can feel your cheeks warm, profusely, and a burst of heat flood through you as you pull yourself from his touch, avoiding his gaze. “Katsuki,” you oblige with a huff and a pout. “We have a problem.”

“Yes?” Bakugou asks, raising a brow your way as he lowers the weight’s he’d been lifting.

“The girls are onto us!”

Bakugou just stares down at you. “What does that mean?”

Exasperated at his obliviousness, you huff, stretching your hands out before you for emphasis as you stare up at him, wide-eyed. “They know I’ve been disappearing after class a lot. I tried to tell them I was training, which I guess we usually are but Jirou caught on to that being a lie too and now they’re onto us!”

Bakugou just blinks. “But what do you mean onto us?”

You let out a cry; “Katsuki! They’re gonna know we’re soulmates!”

“So?”

Pressing a hand to your face, you can’t believe your situation. Not only were the girls onto you, they knew you were lying, which made you feel awful and if they found out that you’d been spending all your time with Bakugou… well that was bound to bring up more questions. Questions you wouldn’t be able to avoid. Questions that would ultimately lead to them finding out Bakugou was your soulmate.

A hand gently reaches for your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as Bakugou crouches to meet your eyes directly. 

“Why is it such a big deal?” He asks gently, an odd tone that you’re still not used to hearing from Bakugou yet. His face remains neutral but there’s patience lingering in his eyes as he waits for you to explain why you’re so upset.

And you do. Your lips part and the words are at the tip of your tongue until, suddenly, you can’t say anything.

Nothing leaves your lips.

“Y/N?”

“I…—”

“You don’t want them to know?”

Blinking, you bite your lip. “It’s not that, it’s just…” But again, you can’t find the words.

“You don’t trust them?”

“Of course I do,” you argue instantly, “they’re my best friends.”

“Okay…” he says slowly, and then his face twists, “are you… embarrassed of me?”

Meeting his gaze, you frown. “...No,” you whisper, and you mean the words.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I…” Shoulders falling, you frown. “Nothing… I guess.”

“So,” he says, “let them find out!”

Sputtering, you lean back; “it’s not like you’ve told Kirishima or any of the other guys!”

“It’s none of their business,” Bakugou shrugs, letting go of your wrists to set his hand on your head. “But if it makes you feel better, I'll tell them.”

You find yourself silent with disbelief once again, Bakugou’s words echoing in your mind paired with the look in his eyes. Just staring down at you.

Looking at you.

Like you’re his whole world.

-

“I’m sorry.”

They blink at you.

“I’m sorry about running away yesterday.”

Another blink.

“And I'm sorry I’ve been lying to you guys for the past few weeks.”

Slowly, all the girls glance at each other, trying to gauge the situation, before Uraraka is the first to speak up.

“It’s okay,” she assures with a smile, setting her hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We appreciate you apologizing. We were just worried.”

“We wanna make sure you’re okay,” Jirou adds, smiling shyly at you. 

You take a look at all of their faces, seeing the sincerity staring back at you, before settling on Mina who still has a hint of hurt in her eyes but there’s also hope.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Bakugou’s my soulmate.”

Silence echoes, once again, before.

“What?”

“I knew it!”

“Bakugou!?”

There’s a mix of words, gasps of disbelief and shouts of question thrown out at you as all the girls rush towards you, swarming you, desperate for answers.

You laugh a little at their reaction, and that catches their attention.

“Y/N?” Mina asks, confused.

“I’ve been sneaking off to see him,” you explain to her, meeting her gaze, before letting your gaze drift. “I didn’t say anything because I’m still adjusting to it myself and I still don’t know how to feel about it. But I realized it isn’t fair to lie to you guys like that and that I want you guys to know because you matter so much to me.”

“Y/N…” Uraraka mumbles, tears welling in her eyes.

Her expression mimics many of the other girls before suddenly there’s a body slamming against your own, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you stumble back, trying to catch your footing.

“Oh. My. God!” Mina screams, you wincing at the sheer volume, as she pulls back, grinning brightly at you. “You have to tell us everything!”

-

The next morning, you’re sitting at the island in the kitchen eating breakfast, chatting to Mina, Jirou and Kirishima. The rest of the students trickle by, some making breakfast, some in the living room, all in their own conversations, until suddenly it all stops.

It takes you a moment to realize Kirishima, Mina and Jirou are no longer listening to you, head turned to their right and following their gaze, curious, you blink when you realize it’s Bakugou they’re staring at. It’s not like he’s doing anything particularly odd, nothing except for the fact that his gaze is directed on you and he’s heading straight for you and then suddenly, he’s right in front of you.

His gaze drifts from you, to your plate, back to you; “who made you that?”

“Nobody,” you say slowly, still stunned. “I made it.”

He’s grabbing the plate before you can say anything else, pressing a kiss to your forehead that has your cheeks burning before turning and making his way to the fridge.

“I’ll make you something better,” is all he says in explanation.

Your gaze slowly drifts from him to Mina and Jirou who are grinning widely at you, before there’s the shout of;

“Did Bakubro just kiss Y/N?!”

“And offer to make her breakfast!”

“Wait,” Kirishima suddenly calls after Sero and Denki, turning to Mina and Jirou, “why are two grinning!?”

“All the girls are!” Deku exclaims, pointing at Uraraka and Froppy in front of him.

“You guys knew?”

“Of course,” Mina grins, sending a wink Kirishima’s way before shrugging. “Isn’t that right, Bakugou? You and Y/N are soulmates!”

Everyone expects him to ignore her or tell her to shut up, but instead, he pauses in what he’d been doing (cracking an egg for you), turning his head over his shoulders to meet your gaze before smirking. 

“That’s right.”

And chaos follows.

Utter and complete chaos.