#the two exes before him have every reason to never talk to me again and i respect it. i was not good to them

[greenlikethesea]

talked to one of my exes on the phone after a month-ish of not talking and it was really nice actually?

i told her basically that i would like to be friends and that my head's not in a romantic space, i don't even know where it's at. she agreed and we both agreed that we'd actually missed each other. she's not a good fit romantically for me but i like her as a person. it'd be nice to be friends with an ex. haven't had that in a while.

[beast-of-the-void]

.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Love Me Again

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut

Exes to lovers - this was requested so I hope you like it!!

To be completely honest, Lando doesn't even know what happened that night one year ago. He knows very well that he drank too much, got drunk like never before and that the next day he lost you.

You came to his apartment and found a hair band in the bathroom that wasn't yours. Lando knew whose hair tie it was, but he tried to hide it from you and convince you that it was yours. Of course with that, he only made things worse. The fact that he decided to lie about it hurt you even more.

You threatened to leave him immediately if he didn't tell you what happened the night before and who spent the night in his apartment. It didn't take long for Lando to break down and tearfully tell you that one of his girl friends spent the night at his place after going out. The morning after, he barely remembered anything, but he could have sworn that he hadn't even kissed her, let alone slept with her.

His only fault was that he brought her with him to the apartment and let her sleep there, but even that was more than enough for you to break your heart into a thousand pieces.

You knew which female friend it was. You never even liked her and even though Lando always told you that you had no reason to be jealous, it annoyed you that she was throwing herself at him every chance she got when the two of you were together.

She was too close to him for your liking and then when you heard that she was the one who slept over at his place that night when he was dead drunk, it was over for you.

Lando cried, despaired, begged you to forgive him for months, trying to convince you that for him there was only you, but you couldn't get over your pride and forgive him. In the end, you even believed him that maybe there really wasn't anything between the two of them, but the trust was broken between the two of you and it couldn't be fixed anymore.

Since you two were together for two and a half years before you broke up, you were very close to his family. They adored you and considered you a member of the family. They couldn't believe that you broke up, even they begged you to forgive him, but even though you decided not to, you still remained on good terms with them and continued to hang out from time to time.

And just like that you found yourself on a huge luxury yacht celebrating Mila's third (idk how old is she??) birthday together with Lando and his family. It was a three-day celebration in the small circle of family and for the sake of that you decided to remain calm and behave normally around Lando.

It wasn't easy for you to be so close to him yet so far away. It was even worse for him, but he enjoyed having you around. Of course he tried in every way to reach you, approach you, talk to you, he did everything just to get your attention. From time to time he would succeed, you would find it funny how he tried everything, so you would give in and engage into a conversation with him.

On the last night, everyone went to bed pretty early because they were exhausted from celebrating, swimming and sunbathing for the past three days, but you weren't so exhausted, so you decided to stay in the lounge area of ​​the yacht and be with yourself for a while. The sky was beautiful, full of shining stars and the feeling was so peaceful. You closed your eyes for a moment, but not for long because you were soon startled by none other than Lando's voice.

"You decided to sleep under the sky tonight?" He asked making himself comfortable on the sofa next to you.

"No, I was just enjoying looking at it."

"With your eyes closed?" He mocked.

"What else do you want other than to disturb my peace?" You roll your eyes sitting up from the lying position.

"I was very hot, so I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd come here to the pool to cool off" He says looking at the pool in front of you.

"It's like" You take a look at your phone to check the time. "Almost 1 a.m. and you're going to get in the pool now?"

"Yeah, wanna join me?" He smirks.

"No, thank you." You laugh rolling your eyes at him again.

He gets up from the sofa and begins to remove his shorts, leaving only his boxers on. You were a little embarrassed and you didn't expect him to start undressing in front of you, so you cleared your throat and looked away.

"C'mon, it's nothing you haven't seen before, y/n" He mocks seeing how flushed your cheeks got.

"I'm going to my room, you have fun" You say getting up and fixing your oversized t-shirt that served as your night gown.

"No, come on, stay, keep me company." He pleaded before stepping into the pool. "Please?"

It didn't take long for him to persuade you to stay, because you secretly wanted to, you just didn't want to admit it so you sat down on the edge of the pool dipping your feet into the water as you watched him slowly threw himself in. Diving under the water he swam closer to you.

"You enjoying yourself?" You ask paddling your feet.

"It would be even better if you jumped in with me" He says placing his hands on the edge on either side of you.

"Not a chance" You resist pushing him a little with your feet. He chuckles biting his lip and taking your foot in his hand pulling you to himself a little.

"Lando, don't you dare" You warn him when you feel yourself slide down a little.

"You're not wearing any shorts?" He asks tilting his head to the side to peek under your t-shirt. You gasp quickly closing your legs and pulling your shirt down.

"You're so inappropriate, get away from me" You push his chest with your feet pushing him away from yourself only for to swim back to you again.

"Did you have any fun these past three days?" He asked curiously.

"I did, I have always enjoyed spending time with your family. It was good to see everyone again."

"Even me?"

You stop and sigh softly at his question not wanting to look him in the eye. it still hurts, stings. You'd be lying if you said you weren't glad to see him. You still love him after all, but you're still not sure if you want to forgive him.

"I'd rather not answer that"

He can't hide the hurt look in his eyes after your statement, but he also doesn't want to push you away from him by bringing certain topics up again.

"Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but I had a talk with Mila today and she told me that I am all you talk about. She says it's getting too much even for her to listen to you" Lando being Lando, of course, turns everything into a joke just to lighten the mood. You can't help but burst out laughing at the nonsense that he was saying just to say something.

"There we go, that's the laugh I wanted to hear" You blush at his caring words hiding your face in your shoulder. He takes a risk and places his hands over your knees slowly pulling them apart to stand between them and you surprise both of you when you let him.

"Lando.." You sigh hesitantly when he slowly puts his hands on your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"Please, let me" Before you could even ask him let you what?, he pulled you down into the pool with him. You gasped and your skin crawled as the slightly cold water soaked your t-shirt making it clung to your body.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" You were breathing rapidly trying to grab the edge to get out, but Lando pulled you by your waist closer to his body.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay"

"You're completely crazy" Your mouth complains, but your body responds differently to his touch especially when he moves one of his hands from your hip to your leg making them wrap around his torso.

"That's better" He says quietly glancing at your lips. You have to admit you feel a little uncomfortable, especially with his lips less than two centimeters away from yours. You haven't been this physically close to each other in over a year and you've almost forgotten what it feels like to feel his skin on yours. "It's just me" He whispers and it somehow calms you down when you remember that it's Lando, your Lando.

"Lando, you can't do this.." You say, but wrap your arms around his neck hiding your gaze in the crook of his neck. Your gesture encourages him so he hugs you tighter and gently kisses you on the cheek.

"Baby, I miss you so much" Your heart trembles at his choice of words. "I'm losing my mind without you" His voice breaks when you look at him and he moves your hair out of your face. Your fingers make gentle circular motions over the back of his head as you press your foreheads together.

"I swear only hope that one day you'll love me again keeps me sane" He continues.

"I've never even stopped" You quietly confess.

Even if he tried, he couldn't describe the feeling of hearing that from your mouth. He felt as if he had come alive again after such a long time.

He couldn't hold back anymore, everything in him was dying to feel you, to kiss you so he crashed his lips against yours and kissed you the way you kiss a person you love more than your life, but haven't been able to touch in more than a year.

You didn't even think about resisting anymore, you gave in and kissed him back with the same force. He walked with your legs still wrapped around him to the edge of the pool pressing against you with your back against it. His hands quickly slipped under your shirt exploring your body again after so long enjoying the sound of your moans.

"Please..please tell me that no one..has touched you..no one but me" His voice was quivering as he tried to get the question out to which he wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer to.

Lando was your first. First in everything basically. And he was so proud of it. He loved your innocence and the fact that no one had ever made you feel the way he did. You were all his and that's why he had a particularly strong protective feeling towards you. And he probably would lose his mind if he heard that someone else had touched something that only belonged to him.

"No one but you" You panted making him go feral.

His hands went under your butt gripping it before his fingertips moved your panties aside. He grinded his crotch into yours nibbling at the skin of your neck.

"Lan.." You moaned wanting more, but hating to ask for it. Luckily he knows your body like the back of his hand and knows what you need very well so he slipped his middle finger inside of you. One was soon replaced by two making you throw your head back giving him full access to bite and suck on your neck.

"Fuck.." He hissed as the aching feeling in his cock kicked in desperately needing to be touched. "Baby, I need to feel you or else I'm going to explode" He grunts.

"Let's get out of the pool, yeah? We can't fuck in here"

He lifted you up from the water sitting you onto the edge before getting out of the pool himself. You took off your wet shirt leaving yourself only in soaked panties and a bra. He looked you in from head to toe before pulling you to him and laying you down on the sofa hovering over you.

As he pulled his boxers down and his cock sprung off you looked down at him with a slight concern in your gaze and he noticed it.

"What, baby? Is everything okay?" He asked leaning down to kiss you caressing your cheek.

"Yeah, it's just..it's been a while.." His gaze softened and he smiled pressing a kiss to your forehead to calm you down.

"We'll take it slow, okay?" He assured you. He pulled down your bra taking your tits out and attaching his lips around your nipples and with every passing second of him doing so you were getting wetter and wetter. He then took his cock in his hand rubbing his tip over your pussy up and down a few times hissing at the sensation.

He stopped at the center and felt you getting nervous as your breathing quickened. "It's alright, baby, I know you want this, I can feel how wet you are. I'll go slow, I promise."

He slowly pushed the tip in planting kisses along your jawline to distract you from the pain. He pushed a little further and you squeezed your eyes whimpering and holding your hands against his chest.

"It hurts Lan, it's too big.." You cried out trying to close your legs so he put his hand on your cheek gently caressing it. It took everything in him not to cum right away at you complimenting his length.

"Shh, I know, baby, but you have to let me in okay? We'll make it fit, yeah? Like we always used to" He cooed you pushing your legs further apart. "Just a little bit more and it's fully in. You can take it, love, I know you can."

Little by little and he pushed all of himself in staying still until you felt comfortable enough for him to move. "That's it, just like that, baby, always such a good girl for me" He was so impatient to fuck you, to cum all over or inside you it didn't matter to him, but he decided to take his time with you because he wanted you to feel good above everything else.

Once the pain was replaced by the feeling of pleasure, he started thrusting in deep and fast stretching you out in the way only he knew how. When you felt confident enough you wrapped your legs around his torso to push him even deeper.

"Does it feel good?" He asked and you nodded. "This reminds me so much of that time I fucked you on the couch in my parent's house."

"Ohh, Lando” You moaned.

"Where anybody could've walked in on us and see me pounding you from behind. Fuck, you have no idea how much this turns me on.." He groaned.

"I missed all of you, missed fucking you, feeling you squeeze my cock, playing with your pussy, oh" His words were coming out as broken sobs struggling to last as long as possible. "I feel you clenching are you almost there, love?"

"So close"

"Yeah? You're drenching my cock baby. You're so tight, fuck, I'm gonna cum in seconds."

"Ohh..yes yes, ahh"

"Oh shit baby.." Once he saw you slide you hand down to your clit and start playing with it, he lost it. His body shuddered, his cock twitched inside you and he came undone. He kept moving slowly until both of you rode out your orgasms.

When both of you came to your senses he started hugging you and kissing you as if you were going to run away every second. You leaned your head to the side and watched him smiling.

"So..does this mean you're mine again?" He asks tracing his fingertips over your collarbones.

"It does not, but" You emphasize. "If you try a bit harder maybe you can change my mind"

"Understood. Let's get you cleaned up for round two then"

"Lando, that's not what I meant…”

[djljpanda]

Lucifer Morningstar X Fallen Exorcist Reader

Ever since his split from Lilith Lucifer has been a reck feeling like no one can love him, need him, or understand him again

You have been an exorcist for a couple of thousand years now being one of the best exorcists Heaven could ever ask for

But deep down you always felt bad for those you had killed feeling like yes Hell is for those who have done wrong but what about those who did the wrong things for the right reasons

So on the next extermination day you tried to run away from it all but when Adam found out he took it upon himself to kill you

You were able to get away before Adam could finish you off but nothing could prepare you for meeting Lucifer himself

For some reason Lucifer took you in and helped you out and yes you did come out to him about you being a “fallen angel” and your ideals on heaven, earth, and hell

Lucifer just sat there and listened and for the first time since Lilith someone understood him

Now at first you two became roommates in a way, mostly helping him out with his work, giving him duck ideas, being his bodyguard and secretary, and you did try to push him into talking to Charlie more but you understood on why he couldn’t do it himself

You did face palm as when he called her all he did was tell her to have that meeting with Adam, at least it’s a start

Charlie dose know of you but saw you more as her fathers secretary or his best friend, like an aunt, she is happy how you think there is a way to get sinners in to heaven and how you told her if she ever needs help or to talk to someone you are just quick call

Lilith dose know of you and you may have never seen her face to face she is happy someone is keeping her ex happy

Now if you ever get together it would be the best for the both of you cause I’m sure you would want to confess first but with the thoughts of you killing his people and Lilith, it just made you hesitant but with a simple duck jester (making a duck quack an “I love you”) Lucifer confessed his feelings to you

Charlie I think would be happy for her dad to have found someone and yes at first she did see you as her aunt but she is happy to call you her step parent sand she isn’t afraid of telling everyone that either

That’s one of the major reason on why Lucifer likes you, his daughter loves you like a parental figure

This Lucifer is just a sad boy so if you just sit there and cuddle him he would love you forever and if add words of praise he is just melting

Definitely will vent to you cause he is that comfortable around you and he is happy that you feel the same way when you vent

You always support his duck creations and yes late nights would consist of you two role playing with the ducks, when you two started dating he made three duck versions of you, him, and Charlie all matching clothes sitting next to each other, this man had a whole collection of duck versions of you and he was embarrassed when you found out but you called it cute

When extermination day hits he could see how tense you get and when you told him on what happened before he found you he couldn’t help but hate Adam more and so every Extermination day Lucifer would hold your hand and comfort you may even play a little music and it just grew more loving when you two started dating

You do help out with Lu Lu World as it’s one of Lucifer’s passion projects and no one could believe how upset you were when Mammon created Loo Loo land, you almost put your exterminator skills to use but Lucifer stopped you and let Mammon have his way cause he didn’t want to argue with Mammon so you just had to let it go

You both do play music together as when you were both angels all you did was play music, duets and you can’t tell me you, Lucifer, and Charlie didn’t sing together once

You remember seeing Lucifer’s wings for the first time and how amazed you were as you kept complementing him and that just made his face all red and what made you stop was when he commented o how your wings could have been more pretty then his, you just smile at him

Now here you two have more of a bodyguard/ secretary and famous person kind of relationship even though he may not need it he likes keeping you around and that just help made his feelings grow for you

[rafeandonlyrafe]

deliveries

words: 1.2k

warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr

“can i say no?” you sigh.

“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.

“i didn't. my- my ex did.”

“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.

you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.

you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.

you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.

you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.

you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.

“stop sending me things.” 

“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”

“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.” 

“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”

you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.

“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”

“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”

“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.

“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”

you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.

“that works… but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”

“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”

“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”

--

you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.

you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.

“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.

“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”

“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”

the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.

you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.

“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.

it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.

rafe

p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months

you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.

“you know you can't buy my love, right?” 

“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”

you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.

“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”

“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.

“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”

“ill go wherever you want.”

“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.

--

you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.

you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.

rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.

“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.

“i am.” you nod. 

“can i… can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”

you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut. 

“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is…” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.

“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.

“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.

he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.

“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.

“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.

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[the-froschamethyst4]

Ex-Husband Simon

Simon Ghost Riley Headcanons

————

————

Ex-Husband Ghost will sign the papers only because he knows you were hurting. He’d be gone for a long time and wouldn’t even know if he was okay or not

Ex-Husband Ghost would feel bad when he’d come to pick the kids up and they don’t understand why their mom and dad aren’t together anymore and why they see him 40 days out of the year

Ex-Husband Ghost who tries his best to keep in contact with you and your kids

Ex-Husband Ghost who cried himself to sleep because he was wondering what he did wrong as a husband

Ex-Husband Ghost who can’t stand the sight of you with another man. When he first went to go pick the kids up and sees you with a man standing on the front porch his hand on your waist. It pissed him off seeing that

Ex-Husband Ghost and when his daughter told him that you were pregnant with that man’s kid, it pissed him off even more, but the reality of remembering that your not his anymore hit him like a brick. He can’t dictate who you have a kid with, you had 2 with him

Ex-Husband Ghost picking up the kids again and he sees you with your big belly with that man’s child

Ex-Husband Ghost his kids expressing how they don’t like their mothers new boyfriend because he could be mean to them for no reason

Ex-Husband Ghost who finally got a chance to talk to you without the court involved or your new boyfriend

“Did you know he was an asshole to the kids?”

“What? No he’s not, Simon, he yelled at them one time because they made a mess, he never yelled at them after that. He knows better.”

“That’s not what the kids told me.”

“Simon-“

“Think about it and I’ll tell you what they told me.”

Ex-Husband Ghost who hates seeing you upset and when the next time he picks up the kids sees you upset and he knows it had something to do with the man

Ex-Husband Ghost who learns you two broke it off and you went to the hospital after having a miscarriage because of stress

Ex-Husband Ghost after he learned that he would pay much more child support then he was suppose to and even brought you groceries

Ex-Husband Ghost who still misses you every time he sees his kids

Ex-Husband Ghost who invited you to come to the park to watch the kids play.

“I’m sorry about the break-up.”

“I learned that he was cheating on me…”

“How long?”

“5 weeks after you had told me he yelled at the kids and when I confronted him about the yelling he told me he was cheating and then started to throw out that the child was probably not his and someone else’s…”

“Y/n-“

“Don’t…I’m here for my kids.”

“I know…”

Ex-Husband Ghost who would still buy you flowers for no reason, the just-because flowers.

“Go give these to mama,” he tells his daughter after she got out of the car.

“Okay,” she takes them and runs towards her giving them to Y/n and smiling down at her daughter moving them inside the house. She turns to Simon and blows him a kiss.

Ex-Husband Ghost who still owns his Kawasaki. He pulls up into your driveway and sees you walking out of the house arms holding you as you move your sweater over your body due to it being cold.

“It’s cold Simon, did you drive here on that?”

“I did…I wanted to see if you wanted to go on a ride?”

“Simon, the kids-“

“They’re okay…I promise just around the neighborhood, nowhere else.”

“Okay,” he pulls out her helmet from his backpack, helping her put it on and helping her on the back.

Ex-Husband Ghost who starts being invited back into your home because it was your children’s idea. They wanted their daddy back in the house to have dinner, and for him to play with them

Ex-Husband Ghost who starts coming over to help you a lot more than before. Before it seemed like Simon was married to his work…not his actual wife.

Ex-Husband Ghost who starts helping you with your sexual needs

[eddiesghxst]

i can not resist ex husband!eddie, so here is something about steve trying to parent trap you and eddie but then he just ends up fucking you both…look away and don’t perceive me

18+ — MINORS DNI

————

ex husband!eddie who loves you so much he gives you the house. so ultimately he’s homeless which leads him to moving in with his dear bestie steve. steve’s got a nice house, he’s not married but he’s got a cute dog named spike and the guest room is rather cozy.

and steve doesn’t mind eddie moving in, in fact he actually loves it! the house is big and it gets lonely (hence the reason for spike) so it’s nice to have someone to talk to every night before bed.

except eddie is kind of like…going through it.

totally understandable! he’s going through a divorce for fucks sake! he’s allowed to be sad and wallow in his misery, and steve is happy that eddie feels safe enough with him to do that in steve’s home.

but after the 3 month mark it starts getting a little pathetic. eddie doesn’t leave the house. he goes to work, comes back and keeps himself holed up in his room plucking the most devastating chords on his guitar.

and, again, that’s fine.

eddie can cope however he wants to.

but steve can’t help but feel…annoyed?

the truth is, you’re a fucking catch. no— you’re better than a catch— you’re the fucking motherload. and eddie is just letting you slip away!

“she won’t talk to me steve, it doesn’t matter what i want. she fucking hates me.”

which isn’t true, considering the times steve has talked to you, you’ve asked how eddie has been dealing with “the situation”

and steve just kind of has to lie and say eddie’s doing good even though that’s not the truth.

and steve can tell you care about eddie. that you miss him. that you still love him and this separation is hurting you more than anything.

so, steve starts planning.

which is… arguably never good for anybody involved in said plan, but fuck if it doesn’t always work.

it’s a lousy plan. lots of holes and loops that leave all fingers pointing to him, but steve just wants his friends back together.

so, basically, steve’s plan is to parent trap you and eddie.

he plays telephone between you both. sees you and reports back to eddie one day then does the same to you the next. and a lot of nasty words are said— you two complain about each other like two fucking grandmothers in a home— and steve is desperately trying to put out the fire on both sides.

and eddie doesn't get it. doesn’t understand why steve keeps defending you when you broke his heart. he gets irritated with steve and snaps, “you wanna fuck my wife? is that it?”

and as much as the idea of steve wanting to fuck you should piss eddie off, he can't help but...like it? like he wants steve to fuck you.

like he wants steve to seduce you and fuck you in what used to be yours and eddie's bed just to come home smelling like you and tasting like you when eddie smears his lips across steve's mouth. humming at the taste of you when he wraps his mouth around steve's cock. dragging his tongue over the sensitive bruises you leave on steve’s pretty neck.

god, it's so fucked up!

but it's the closest eddie can get to you. and eventually you figure out what steve and eddie are doing. what steve is doing. playing fucking puppeteer with you.

and fuck, it flips something within you that you never knew was there. can't help thinking about how steve will go home and fuck your ex husband just after spending an hour between your thighs. try to come off pissed when steve tells you to imagine he’s eddie but holy fuck it’s so hot. letting you fuck him with eddie’s name rolling off your tongue. letting you give him purple bruises so he can go show your ex husband how well he fucked you.

steve is just so kind.

you’ll both be forever in steve’s debt, that’s for sure.

[thephantomsdream]

Simon "Ghost" Riley that likes to be pampered, to be taken care of and let me tell you, he's just so not used to it. He's never had anyone to really treat him anything close to good.

In all honesty, he genuinely thought it was fine, being alone. He's a solitary creature, as life taught him to be, and deep down he convinced himself it was best. It didn't matter if there was a small, minuscule, pained tug at his heart every time he thought about it.

What he didn't expect was to be whipped immediately, one glance into your eyes and he was a goner. It went against his reasoning, this instinct of his to have you, battling everything he's been trying to avoid at all costs. But that one glance, that small smile you gave him, and he just knew. And months of tedious yet slow opening up and trying not only for you, but for himself, Simon was yours somehow. Baffling as it was, he now had someone to go home to. A sweet angel that in no time he plans to up and move into that bare house he has and take care of. Only thing is, the man did not expect to be taken care of himself, as if he forgot that was an option.

The first few times you two dated, officially, as he had to clarify this wasn't what kids these days mean by "hanging out" or "talking to" or whatever the fuck Johnny and Kyle were babbling to him about their dating lives (it's dating or not, Simon likes things clear), the man was surprised by how sweet yet determined you were. "Can I hold your hand?" You asked him a little flustered, and this big boy almost stuttered. He found himself nodding while gulping before taking your hand in his, internally beating himself up for acting like such a... boy? Having a silly crush on a lovely sweetheart that made him nervous by just exiting around him.

God, it felt fantastic when he finally got to kiss you. Simon thought it was gonna be just a kiss, big fucking deal (he was trying to cope, his hands were sweaty but whatever, big deal), but the way you sighed and melted into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck made him shudder. It ignited something in him and his heart tugged again, this time not painful but hopeful.

It was the way you touched his scarred face that really astonished him, especially the first night you spent in his house. Whatever movie you babbled about the last date, vampires or whatever, was now playing on his flat screen on the new profile he created for you on whatever streaming service Simon just bought just to watch it. Another tiny bit of you in his life, it seemed. Movie was fucking awful, truly, fucking dumb teenagers and vampires, but whatever, your boyfriend (bloody fucking hell it felt fantastic and scary to think that he's now yours officially) was determined to watch it even if he snorted and made fun of it every three seconds, yet having you giggle by his side made his cold heart warm up as it beat a thousand times per second. Once again, he found himself about to mock something jokingly when he turned to you, finding your beautiful eyes already on him, expression warm and relaxed.

"Come here." At that moment, Simon Riley realized he'd follow anything you'd order him, as his body moved without any thoughts, just closer to you. Like a stray dog that's learning what a home is, something he's never really had, and when your lips touched his cheek while caressing the other, the world slowed down.

Having you move closer to him, placing a leg over his, smiling at him sweetly while gently kissing the scar near his lower lip, all he could do was stare dumbly as his face felt on fire. Little did he know that his pale cheeks reddened so adorably that you started to giggle. God, he fucking loved that sound.

"Lay on me, c'mon." You ordered gently again, grabbing his calloused hands to tug him onto you as you laid down on your back. Simon knew he looked like an idiot in awe, very much aware he's always had a staring problem. But as he crawled gently over you, expecting you to push him off after abruptly changing your mind, all he could do was to look down into your cleavage and stare like a muppet. " 'S aight?" Being all he asked before hearing a nice hum, approval for him to lay on you.

That day, Simon learned what heaven is. Your fingers into his hair, slowly, gently playing with his dirty blond locks, his face in your soft tits, your voice oh-so clear as he pressed his ear into your torso, the slow rumble almost putting him to sleep while his eyes were focused on the silly movie. His arms were wrapped around you while he just laid down between your legs. His dumb jokes still delivered as he muffled them out lazily, getting you to laugh and make him smirk as you(r tits) jiggled under him, and his reward, because you're a fucking angel, of course, was a sweet kiss on his temple every single time. The man could be turning into a clown by the end of the night as long as you kissed him so tenderly.

You spoiled him too. How dare you, really? Bringing him sweets, asking him what he wants to eat, adjusting your schedule to fit his (man's off duty, he can camp outside your house and come in whenever you want him to, if you'd be willing, like a good obedient dog), just making him feel wanted. It was odd. And new. And addicting.

You cared. You cared for him. And in his wonky yet honest way, he cared too. Always making sure that you know he's somehow thinking of you. He wanted to try. He wanted to make sure you'll stick around. The military has taught this man a lot of things, and apart from his head-strong conviction that he indeed can do anything if he puts his mind to it, another was how to not fuck up something good, all through the hundreds of stories from many other soldiers about failed relationships. He knows all the perspectives, all the failures, all the erros and all the aftermaths, so he learned to listen and not blame, to pay attention, to be there even if he was half a world away. Simon is determined to keep you around, coming back to you battered, wounded, traumatized, exhausted, and is greeted with his angel, all ready to pick him up, wrap him in a warm blanket and fuss over his ass. He'd roll his eyes at you, but his emerging smile said it all.

His heart now tugs when he's about to pick his luggage, a duffle bag filled with essentials and nothing more. A week earlier than expected too, relief washing over his body like never before, knowing you're at home waiting for good news. And he's heading that way too, determined, unrelenting, head first, no thoughts. He's going home to you.

Home to warm, delicious food, instead of stale and plain. Home to sweet laughter and love, instead of orders barked and indifference. Home to his, your comfortable bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other, the plump delicious curves of your body pressed against his hardened one. Home to gentle, home to calm, home to soft, home to himself, home to everything. Home to his heart, that is tugging him closer and closer, where he left it with you.

I'm just gonna dump this here and leave. Not proofread because we're old and lazy here.

[inklore]

middle of the night.

— kenji sato x f!reader

premise: it doesn’t matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you’re done with him you always end up back in his bed.

contents: exes with benefits, p in v, tiny bit of plot, oral, alcohol consumption, booty calls, slight toxic relationship | wc: 1k+

note: went into this movie already down bad for him and came out of it even worse. i had to write something for him, i'm obsessed.

“Baby, come on.” You can tell from the deep bravado of his voice that he’s been drinking. That he’s had one too many more than he really should have allowed himself. That something clearly went south at some point during the day that had made him grip the glass of liquid poison until he was tipsy enough to let go of the day's frustration and call you. 

His inhibitions always lead him back to lighting up your phone at late hours of the night. 

Your own endless cycle of your lack of impulse control has you staring down at the screen of your phone, determined, grounding your feet at the line you had drawn in your attempts to not answer his calls again. 

Ever again. 

"Kenji, it’s never going to work.” 

“But it feels so good when it does.”

“I can’t keep doing this.” 

And yet you end up scuffing up that line you drew in the sand as you step over it and answer your phone. Each and every time. 

“Just come over. We can just talk.” 

“Kenji,” you sigh. Both of you know that ‘just talking’ has never been a strong suit for either of you. It was hard to just talk when his mouth was between your legs or your face was pressed into his pillow. 

“I promise. I just want to see you, please. I’ve...” he swallows. Maybe he takes a sip of whatever has his mind hazed and slipping into old habits. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

His voice, when it’s like this, gravelly, raw from the liquor he’s consumed, low and almost needy, always makes your insides burn. Always makes you forget how to breathe. 

And then he’s sighing; it’s breathy, and you can hear ruffling, like he’s situating himself against the back of his couch or removing something—clothes, his pants, images of late nights with him leaned back against the cushions of his couch, his legs splayed open for you to sit prettily in front of him, your lips teasing the tip of his cock, making your cheeks heat. 

Making you swallow hard. Close your eyes. Try to ground yourself. Try to list all the reasons why you should not go over to his house right now. 

It’s never a good idea. 

Never. 

But no and Kenji Sato never went into the same sentence in your brain, and maybe that’s a bigger problem than your resolute “fine” through the phone. 

“Just to talk.” 

“Just to talk.” You can hear his smirk through the phone. “I can’t wait to see you, baby.” 

And you know, as you hang up the phone, as you put on your shoes, as you get into your car—before you even answered the phone—that the last thing the two of you are ever going to do is just talk. 

That’s why when you show up at his place, when you knock and he opens the door barely seconds later, that curve of his mouth, his hand reaching out and gripping the bottom of your shirt, “Hi, baby.” Rolling off his tongue like a siren song to your insides, it is no surprise you are pressed against the back of his door seconds later. 

His mouth on yours, his hands everywhere. Pulling at your clothes, pulling you closer to him. His hair falling in your face in that way you’ve missed so fucking much. That you have grown addicted to feeling when he’s on top of you and thrusting between your legs. 

“Knew you missed me too,” Kenji groans when you fall to your knees and take his cock in your mouth. His teeth in his bottom lip as he looks down at you like you own his world. His very being. Like he doesn’t know pleasure unless it’s given to him by you. 

A feeling you know too well in regards to him. 

And you don’t tell him differently. Because yeah, you did miss him. You always miss him. That’s why you can never stop these visits. Never say no to him. Even if the two of you will always be the right person wrong time, every time you think it will be different. That your heart might actually be a little more safe than the last time. 

It doesn’t matter, though. You know that when his palm grabs the back of your neck to pull you up from your knees, his thumbs pressing into the side of your jaw as he brings his mouth down on yours—nothing matters but this. How good it feels. How good Kenji feels, how good he makes you feel, how much the two of you love each other even if he’s bad at it. 

You need him to fill your lungs with air when he pushes inside of you, his thick cock filling your tight cunt, that heavy breath of relief he lets out as if nothing has felt as right as this. As you. Under him. Digging your nails into his lower back as he thrusts into you. As his mouth bites and sucks at your neck. 

As his hand snakes between the two of you and presses his thumb against your clit. Your legs tightening around him. Your cunt tightens around his cock, your moans become more breathy, panting into his mouth as his tongue licks into yours. 

“Yeah, baby. Come on. Come on, give me it.” 

And you do. You come and come again when he puts you in a different position—when his mouth is hot and wet at your shoulder blade. When his fingers grip your hips and pull you back, his hand pushes down on the base of your spine to have your ass push up higher for him. To allow him to go deeper until you’re gripping the sheets and seeing stars. 

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” 

By the time he pulls himself from your wetness, his fist moving against his cock fast and hard, your arousal still slick against him, making the lewd noise burn your cheeks. Your body heating back up as you watch his brow furrow. “Look at me, baby, look,” he says breathless as he paints the mound of your pussy with his come. You know reason will never mean anything. You’re his, and when he calls, you’ll come running each and every time. 

[shapard]

Feather of Fate 🕊️

Lucifer x fem!seraphim!reader

Soulmate arc

Lilith being weird

Saturn

Chapter 6 < Chapter 7 > Chapter 8

You’ve never felt this out of place before. 

Even in heaven it wasn't this awkward.

You were sitting beside Lucifer who hasn’t talked since you’ve arrived here in the main lobby. 

Lilith was sitting in front of you all like she hasn’t been missing for 7 years.

Walking around as if she owns this place. And it angered you.

Charlie was happy to see her mom again after such a long time, but also was hella confused. 

Why is she here all of the sudden right before the extermination day? Charlie wasn't the only one who thought of this.

You too are confused at this ordinary timing.

Angel dust was concerned about you. 

You and Lucifer were now official but the appearance of Lucifers ex-wife was very overwhelming for you, and Angel could see it. 

And one guy was not even presence, and that was Alastor. 

Weird. 

Normally he’s always there when someone new arrived in here. 

“Who are you?” Nifty broke the silence, and all eyes were now on her. 

Lilith choose to Ignore Nifty, and she pouted. “So, you’re… His new girl?” Lilith asked looking you up and down. With her gaze lingering now on her you felt insecure somehow.

You hugged yourself to look smaller.

You nodded your head 'yes', even though you didn’t like the tone Lilith gave you. 

“She’s his girlfriend and she has a name big tits.” Angel said raising his eyebrows.

He didn’t trust her.

Not at all.

Lilith smirked and leaned back in her seat.

“I don't care. Really her Lu?” Lilith looked over at Lucifer and he looked shortly back.

his gaze went quickly to the ground.

It was obvious that Lilith still had Lucifer in her fingers, and it pissed you off. 

“Excuse me?” You decided to interrupt her cruel speaking.

She looked at you in surprise, and you huff in annoyance.

“You really think you can just come over here and talk here as if this place belongs to you.

Sorry for breaking the news to you, but you’re no longer the owner of this house, nor do you have the right to come here to Insult your ex.

You left him and I’m here. No refunds.” You Shaked your head, Angel dust smirked at you come back. 

He’s so proud of you.

Lucifer smiled, every day he gets more reasons to love you. 

“What are you even doing here?” Lucifer finally looked at Lilith and he felt nothing. 

No Love, no sadness. 

Lilith bit her lip hard, drawing blood. “Can’t I visit my little daughter.”

Lucifer raised his eyebrow, “You never visit nor called her in over 7 years. What changed!” No one gets after his daughter, not even her Mother.

Not even Lilith.

Lilith patient was running thin, she scratched with her nail into the wood piece from the couch breaking her nails in the process. 

She took a breath in and out. “I had a lot of important things to do.” 

Now y’all were raising a brow at this statement, besides Charlie.

She had faith for the first time that her mother wants to see her again. 

But you all had a valid point, why now? 

“It seems no one wants me here. I’ll leave, but I will come back.”

She looked now at Lucifer smiling at his angered face. ‘you’ll see’ She mouthed at him, he pointed towards the door.

And she left.

“That was way too easy.” Husk said that what all thought. She left you all dumbfounded. 

It was way too easy.

Angel shifted towards you and Lucifer. “So, you two a thing now?” You nod your head and smile brightly. 

He wanted to change the topic so you don't overthink all of this, and it worked successfully.

Charlie bounced up and down dismissing the weird visit from her mother. She's so excited for the two of you.

Charlie is a cutie pie, and you love everything about her. She is just like her father, the pros so the cons. Both just want to do their best for their beloved.

Even though they sometimes fuck up, it is always meant in a good way.

“You said It yourself seconds ago. Why are you even asking?” Lucifer asked and rested his chin on your shoulder.

He loves that he's shorter than you. Every time you two hugged he was always between your boobs. Even though he wears a hat to look taller.

Angel just shrugged and continued to drink his Malibu with his well known smile.

… Time Skip...

Lucifer paced around your room, and you watched his every move. 

You stood up and hugged his waist looking down into his eyes. Sometimes he was looking at you, but they travelled through the whole room most of the time.

“Luci, calm down. Nothing happened we are fine.” His strand fell in front of his eyes, and you put it back to its place, Lucifer clicked his tongue.

“That’s what’s worrying me. Why didn’t she do anything? I know Lilith since the start of earth, she wouldn’t just leave in those situations without a reason.” 

Lucifer leaned into you embrace letting out a distressed sigh. 

"Don't worry about it. You're one of the strongest beings, she wouldn't dare to put out a fight like Michael did." Lucifers sighs, you're probably right.

_____

“You just left?!” Michael laughed biting at his fresh manicured nail. 

His women staff around him tensed up, wanting nothing more than to leave.

Michael sent them away. They ran as fast as they could out of the room.

“And you didn’t even spy on them? Tried anything to get useful Information?! I really wonder why you divorced him and not the other way around.” He breathed in and threw a glass cup next to Lilith. 

“But you just LEFT?!” 

He shook his head, his eyes shining in pure blue. 

“They’re soulmates.” She whispered. Not looking at him with his icy cold eyes.

She hated that look in his eyes he was giving her.

He looked at her like she is a piece of garbage, something he should've got disposed of.

Something that now molds in one of his cabinets.

the only reason why she is still alive was her use for him.

And something else they both tried to hide and undo.

Michael’s mark burned in protest but it won’t stop him to punish Lilith.

“NO SHIT!” he leaned his hand in his palm trying to calm down. massaging his forehead hardy leaving a red fingerprint.

“Your plan failed Michael. It worked for a couple of Months but not longer. It seemed their bond grew stronger.” A loud bang echoed the icy cold halls in Michael’s mansion. 

The temperature was starting to get colder and colder. 

Ice started to grow around Lilith holding her tight in place. “I should’ve killed you a long time ago.”

He stood in front of Lilith cutting her cheek open with the same knife your blood was spilled. 

“I- I- have an idea!” Michael removed the knife from her cheek with ease.

Lilith feared him you thought? 

Feared was the wrong word.

She’s haunted by him. 

Every time she thinks she’s in peace, he reminds her that he has her in her personal hell.

The sharing Soulmate mark was burning on her skin bonding then for eternity.

“Tell me.” Michael licked Lilith’s blood away from her cheek and she shrieked trying to get away from him. But his ice didn’t let her move. 

“We can use her,”

Michael grabbed her chin turning Lilith head to him, “I already tried that Bitch.”

Lilith looked at Michael and shrugged her eyes at him, “But my idea is better.” 

Michael eyes twitched in annoyance, how dare she?

“On extermination day, we can take her away from him.”

______

You knocked onto Charlie’s door hesitant.

You were worried about her.

You know how it is with mommy Issues and when they try to gain something out of you. Out of your weakness and dreams. 

No one can destroy you like a mother can. No one can build you up like a loving mother. And no one can cause destruction like a mother.

You speak out of experience with your mother Sera.

Even though you’ve almost spoken no words with Lilith, she seems kind of like an asshole.

It was all Lilith's fault which caused Charlie and Lucifer being so distant to each other.

Saying always Lucifer was too busy to see his own daughter, which isn’t even true. 

And telling Lucifer that Charlie doesn't want to see her own father.

You didn’t like Lilith at all.

Charlie opened the door and was shocked to see you there. 

“Y/n?” You briefly smiled to her, “Can I get in?” She tilted her head and gave you a concerned look. “Did something happen with dad?” 

You shook your head laughing a bit, “I just want to know if everything’s alright with you? Just a quick check.” Charlie nods her head, not looking you in the eye. 

“I can see when someone’s lying my dear.” Charlie looks up to you, “pfft- No. I am completely fine! really!” She laughed you off, pushing you out of her and Vaggies room. 

“If you say so.” You said, not really believing her. Charlie puts her thumbs up and closed the door right in front of you. 

So that’s how Lucifer felt.

Not a nice feeling.

You can understand Charlie, you’re new. New to this Family, new to her. 

So, you understand when she doesn’t want to share her feelings with you. but it was worth a shot. 

You didn't spend much time with Charlie nor her friends.

You talked sometimes with Angel or with Husk. They seemed nice.

You had once a conversation with Alastor and Lucifer wasn’t really a fan of it. 

Lucifer creeped behind you and gave Alastor a rude comment.

He growled at Alastor and pushed you away from him. 

Since then, you always keep yourself distant from Alastor. 

You walked towards the bar seeing Angel and Husk drinking some cocktails and shots.

You sat beside Angel, telling husk to make you a good drink. 

“Never seen you drink alcohol before. Tough day?” Husk asked grabbing some bottles from the shelves. “Nah, just want to try something new.” 

Angel looked you up and down smiling. “You look different.” His fingers drew circles on the bar table, biting his lips in a sexual matter. 

“Did you and the short king finally get into some action?” He pushed his chest fur up and fluffed it a bit. 

And here we go.

Of course, Angel will notice.

Your cheeks redden, feeling the sudden embarrassed. 

“What? No- where did you get that idea from?!” You started playing with the glass that husk laid in front of you moments ago. 

Angel frowned, “I do sex for a living toots. But except that, everyone can see it even if you’re blind like a fish.” Angel rests his head on one of his many hands and raised his eyebrows at you. 

“You’re not a good liar kiddo.” Husk said and Angel snorted, “Ya see! Even Mr. grump cat can see it.”

Angel smirked at Husk and continued to tease him. They both stopped giving each other shots when they heard your joyful laugh. 

“What?” They both asked in sync.

“You two are like an old married couple.” You continued to laugh out loud.

Meanwhile Husk and Angel were a blushing mess blabbering “No’s” and dismissive comments about how they act. 

“Married couple? No, nah. We two? Never, haha!” Angel blabbered and husk agreed by him. And this went on and on for the rest of day.

Angel, Husk, and you got way closer. 

This was a great day so far. 

But there was an unsettling feeling building up in your guts, telling you to run. 

And you couldn’t figure out why. 

Walking back to your room you saw Alastor on your way back. 

‘Please not him’. 

“Look who we have here!” His smile was unsettling, you wanted to leave before he could try anything to you.

You were all alone and he could use this advantage. But he wouldn't right?

“Oh, hey there Alastor. Sorry we can’t chat any longer, I have stuff to do.” You waved him a goodbye and rushed away from him. 

Please let it work.

“What stuff?” 

Alastor teleported himself in front of you scaring the shit out of you.

You screamed and fell right onto your butt.

A stinging pain was growing in that area. 

“Ow! Wtf Alastor!” You looked up at his well-known wide smile and all he did was smirking even wider.

“You know little Angel; you seem to get comfortable in here. I’m glad you like this beautiful hotel! Do you-“

“Darling! Y/n?!” Lucifer called out for you. Interrupting Alastors chat with you, his ears quickly shifted to the well-known voice which was calling for you. 

Lucifer heard your little scream, and he quickly followed the red string feeling that connected the two of you. 

Alastor hummed and disappeared into his own shadows.

Lucifers eyes shifted around the hallway cursing that this place is too large to find you.

Finally he found you lying on your butt unmoving on the floor.

“Are you okay? What happened.” He helped you up to your feet searching for any damage before looking up to you. 

“Yeah, I guess. Just a weird encounter. Don’t worry about it.” Lucifer sighs but didn’t pry any further.

He trusts you that you’ll tell him when something is wrong. 

When you both were lying in your bed, and he was cuddled all up in your lap. 

All you couldn’t help but think about this unease that thrilled behind your head and in your guts.

It was making you sick, as if you got a rare disease.

You played with his angelic golden hair, hoping it will calm that feeling down, to no success.

It didn't help.

You decided to speak up about this, with Lucifer. Maybe this would help.

“Luci?” He hummed, “I have a bad feeling about this.” He sat up, scared that you mean the relationship you two formed.

Fuck I phrased that wrong. You internally screamed at yourself.

“About what?” 

please, please be something else, please. I thought everything is perfect. Lucifer begged in his head.

You looked onto your shelf where the duck he gifted you was resting. A replica from himself just in a duck form.

It glowing in all their might. You loved this duck; it just was so adorable and remind you of Lucifer so much.

“I don’t know, to be honest. Maybe it is the extermination.” You scratched the back of your head.

Lucifer sighs in relief. Thank God it's just that.

“Don’t worry your head about it Apple pie. Nothing will happen to you.”

Oh, how he will regret saying that. 

A/n: What do you think will Lilith and Michael do with Y/n?

Annnd one final Question:

💫

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgaters-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift @steadyconnoisseurnacho @crimsonflameproxy @stormz369 @wooleypeaches @fukingsad @starlitvenus @avadakadabra93 @itzabbeym @asmodeussimpnumber1 @sirenetheblogger @k1y0yo @i-have-no-life-charlie @angelicwillows

A/n (again):Thank you for all the lovely comments, likes and repost<3 And FOR THE 300 FOLLOWERS DAYUM. We got new pookies❤️

btw I'm sick so if this chapter (or the next) comes later than normal I apologize.

[sports-on-sundays]

people change / CL16 / Part 1

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.

Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3

"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"

"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."

"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.

"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."

You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."

Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"

"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.

He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.

The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."

"What do you say?"

"Please!" he pouts.

You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.

The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.

When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.

You sigh, feeling worried.

Did...

Did Charles do something?

Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.

"Dinnertime, love!"

Silence.

"Love?"

"I'm not hungry!"

You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"

Silence. Again.

You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.

Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?

"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."

The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"

It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.

"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"

"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?

Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."

You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."

"But Daddy told me not to."

You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.

You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"

"Tell Daddy what?"

"What I'm gonna tell you."

You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."

He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."

You try not to tremble.

Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.

Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.

Why can't he just let go?

You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.

Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"

And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.

Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.

And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.

Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.

But in the same way, you don't either.

Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."

There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.

Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."

"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.

"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"

"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"

All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"

"Of course, Y/n. I-"

You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.

But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"

At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.

When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."

"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."

"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.

"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.

"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.

"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.

And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"

There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."

"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.

Years ago.

Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.

You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.

Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.

The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?

Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.

He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.

He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.

He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.

Or so you thought.

You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.

Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'

Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.

When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"

Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"

"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."

"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."

"Charles, do you still love me?"

He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."

"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"

He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"

"What did you just call me?"

He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."

You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"

He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."

You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.

But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...

"I would do anything for this to work."

Another tear falls.

"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."

He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.

"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...

"Y/n, people change."

Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3

[sminiac]

Heyy can we get soul bf if not its okay i really live your intak,theo and keeho ver.

⋆ Haku Shota + Reader

💌 — Of course I can my sweets! Thank you sm <3!!!

Bf!Soul who buys you the silliest gifts whether he’s travelling or not, the type to see ads of utterly ridiculous items that would have no practical value to it and still put them into his cart without hesitation and giggles to himself when handing the package to you when it comes in, wouldn’t say a word even if you repeatedly ask him what it is, just sits and waits patiently for you to open it.

Ex: Sometimes he even goes out of his way to buy you matching accessories, but sometimes it’s the most absurd looking thing you’ll ever see. Also yk how he has 2 custom rings of his dogs? He’d 100% get custom pieces for the two of you, the design pertaining to something that only you and him understand! Would also get a few pieces with your initials engraved in the back, another little secret only you’d know about.

Bf!Soul who doesn’t like messaging you when he’s away, he absolutely will when there’s no other option but he’d much rather hear your voice, and he makes sure to tell you too! “I just missed hearing you talk to me that’s why I called, it makes me feel better, you know?” He’d also send you little texts throughout the day to keep you updated on where he is, what he’s doing, but they’d never be in great detail, you’d look down randomly at your phone and there’s just: “Baby I ate a bug!!” and “Walked head first into a pole >ヮ< I’m okay I think”

Ex: He’d also frequently tell you “I miss you” but every time he’d explain why, and it would almost always be a different reason each time :,)

Bf!Soul who is such an affectionate person, hugs and kisses given to you for the smallest reasons, you open something for him? You’re suddenly being smothered in kisses, they’re so quick and gentle that before you know it he’s pulling away like he didn’t just leave you blinded and dizzy from his lips. Also the type to hug you unexpectedly, just slowly raises his arms leaving his chest open until you get the hint and pull yourself into him, the same with holding your hand, but instead he’d keep reaching, pulling, trying to dig his fingers to his designated spot between yours.

Bf!Soul who builds you the cutest, most aesthetic buildings you’ve ever seen in your shared Minecraft world, the amount of time and effort he’d put into making everything pretty for you is insane. Takes care of your cats, dogs, and other random plethora of animals when you’re offline, would also leave you random little signs with messages on them for you to find whenever you’re active again, sometimes they’re just silly nonsense, others you’ll find really cute ones of him just completely gushing over you.

Bf!Soul who I feel like is so “Guess what Y/n did?” To his members, a constant yapper about you, if you’ve done anything to your hair recently, that one makeup look you did, that outfit you wore, that thing you said, everything and anything he’s constantly connecting to you and then he just has to tell everyone!

Bf!Soul who lets you do anything you want to him, he’s just pure putty in your hands! You want to put his hair in cute pigtails again? He’s already finding a spot between your legs so you have easier access to his head. You want to see him in a certain outfit? He’s laying out all of his options for you to pick from, and he doesn’t complain even one bit throughout the process.

Ex: Small spontaneous photoshoots happen quite often with this, does so many poses for you, even refers to you as his ‘pretty photographer’ when crediting you in the caption of his posts for taking the pictures of him.

Bf!Soul who would request of you to send your favourite songs to him just so he can make a freestyle video for you :,)

Bf!Soul who I feel like puts an incredible amount of effort into conveying his love for you, he really appreciates someone who can even help him, whether that’s guiding him into the words he can’t seem to find or just simply being patient with him. Likes cuddling into you while you play with his hair as he rambles on and on about you, what you mean to him, how lucky he must be to have found someone so reactive to his energy that not a lot of people can match in the way he feels is genuine. When he has the time he really gets into the details about how he feels, the emotion behind it, I feel like he’d really like the deep, touching talks late at night where everything just pieces together right in front of his eyes thanks to your presence, your kind heart. He could talk to you for hours, things are just easy with you.

[holylulusworld]

Darkness and Sunshine (2)

Summary: Bucky hurt you deeply. Can he make amends?

@buckybarnesevents „Hot Bucky Summer 2024”: Week 13: Free Week

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

Warnings: angst, hurt reader, BBF trope, attentively Bucky, flirting, fluff

Catch up here: Darkness and Sunshine

“You will keep your hands off my sister.” It’s the first time you’ve heard your brother yell at his friend and business partner. “You had your chance and hurt her. Stop coming up with more excuses for your poor life choices. Y/N had nothing to do with any of it. You wanted her to come with me all the time, only to break her heart.”

Your brother is panting. No man ever got away with insulting James Buchanan Barnes. Most of the people didn’t even get the chance to confront him face-to-face.

“Y/B/N, I’m telling you this as a friend. Stop right now. I had my reasons to push your sister away. I know it was wrong, but I had to keep her out of my life and my business.” Bucky balls his metal hand into a fist and slams it onto the desk at his office. “I let you get away with talking like that to me because you love your sister. But that is enough.”

Your brother huffs. “Do you think I care?” He replies. “We have been friends all my life, but hurting my sister was one step too far. I’m telling you one last time to leave her alone!”

Bucky steps closer to your brother, making you flinch. You are sitting on the sofa in his office, watching the two most important men in your life fight because of you.

“Please stop,” your voice cracks, seeing your brother so mad at his friend. “It’s my fault, Y/B/N. I shouldn’t have fallen in love with your friend. Let’s just go home, and I’ll never come back here.”

Turning his head like in slow motion, his lips curved into a grin, Bucky looks at you sitting on his sofa. “You love me?”

“Barnes.” your brother raises his voice to catch Bucky’s attention. “Don’t you dare to even think about it! I won’t allow you to hurt my sister again.”

Bucky rolls his eyes at your brother’s words. He understands that Y/B/N tries to protect you, but he’s too stubborn to admit that your brother has all the right to be mad at him.

“I won’t hurt her, Y/B/N. You know, all I did was protect her. It was you asking me to protect her at all costs,” Bucky snaps at your brother, making you frown. Your brother never told you that Bucky agreed to protect you.

“As if I’ll trust you with her ever again, Buck,” your brother bites back. “You have no clue what love is or how to make a woman stay. All you ever did was change your girlfriends like other men change their underwear.”

“So... every four or five days,” you giggle because both men stare at you. “What?” You shrug. “I once read an article about how often men change their underwear.”

Your brother can see the twinkle in your ear. You hold back a chuckle before bursting into laughter. “Okay, it was on Reddit, and I asked the crowd. My ex didn’t change his underwear daily, and I was wondering if that was normal.”

“What a pig!” Bucky scrunches up his nose. He retches while looking at your brother. “Punk, don’t tell me you do the same thing.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. The ladies like a clean lower area,” your brother grumbles under his breath. 

“Lower area?” You laugh even harder. “Y/B/N, you know that you can call it dick in front of me, right? I have seen one or two in my life.”

Bucky’s features darken. The thought of someone else touching you makes him furious. Deep down inside, Bucky knows that he’s got no right to feel like this. Well, he had the chance to ask you out more than once over the years. He always came up with excuses, only to watch another man hold your hand.

“Y/N, be a doll and leave me and your brother alone for a while. Please.” Bucky’s voice softens when talking to you. “How about you get a snack or a beverage?”

“No,” you harrumph, and you cross your arms over your chest. “Why would I do that? I won’t let you or my brother decide what to do with my life. You know what? I’ll leave you alone and go home.”

You get up from the couch and walk straight toward the door. Even if Bucky regrets all the things he said that night, they still echo in the back of your mind. You’re too hurt to just sit there and listen to them make decisions for you.

Bucky and your brother didn’t part on good terms. Your brother told his friend to stay away from you, while Bucky refused to give in. Seeing you with John Walker woke something more than his protective side. 

“Doll, open the door. It’s me, Bucky. Your brother and I talked things out. Y/B/N sees now that he cannot stop me from dating you.”

“Dating me?” You angrily say this and open your door. He swallows thickly when you glare at him. You’re always friendly and a ray of sunshine. But today you give him not only the cold shoulder but the stinky eye too.

“You made it clear that you’d never date me, Mr. Barnes. Even if my date with John wasn’t successful, I decided to go out with other men more often. I should try to find a man who won’t act like a fool to keep me safe.”

Bucky leans against your doorframe, watching you stand your ground against him. He’s impressed you didn’t melt in his arms or give him that sweet smile he hasn’t seen since he made the stupidest mistake of his life.

“Doll…” He sighs when you pull away the moment he tries to touch your hand. “What if I invite you for dinner in Paris or let me buy you this pretty dress you told Tasha about?”

You pout and look away. “Your money and shiny things won’t make up for what you did to me. Whatever you do, you can’t buy my love.”

Bucky nods. He can see the change in you and doesn’t like it. What he always loved about you was your optimism and the fact that you’re a ray of sunshine. Now you look sad most of the time he’s around.  The powerful man dips his head to glance inside your apartment. For so many years, he has known you and your brother without entering your place a single time. 

He furrows his brows, thinking hard to come up with a new plan. The private plane waiting for departure won’t impress you, and neither will the gifts he bought for you.

“I thought about a walk in the park,” he says, instead of offering the diamond necklace he bought for you this morning. “The weather is nice, and I’d hate to go alone. Please come with me, Y/N. We can have some ice cream later.“

A walk in the park and ice cream. This sounds like a normal date. Even though you never know when it comes to James Buchanan Barnes. 

“Please don’t leave me hanging.”

“No catch?” You question, quirking a brow.

“No catch,” he says, offering a smile and his hand. “I swear on my sister’s life, doll. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

You place your hand in his before you say, “I’ll keep you up on that promise, Bucky.” 

Tags in reblog.

[f1goat]

the race winner x lando norris + part 2

in which you see your ex best friend again after he cut of contact between you two.

not proof read - PART ONE

sunday evening

“It’s insane how much I’ve missed you,” Lando tells you for the millionth time. Since he has ben cleared from the medical center, he has been by your side. He skipped all the media duties, just to be with you. You told him multiple times that you could wait, but he didn’t let you wait. It took him only a few minutes to get you inside of his rental car to get to his hotel together. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you tell Lando again. 

Lando smiles at you. You know he still needs to explain everything, but you are just glad that he’s back at your side. Together you’re sitting in his hotel room. Lando pulls you a bit closer to himself, draping his arm around your shoulders. You enjoy his movement but you know that you still need to talk to him before you can fully close this weird chapter. 

After Lando told you he needed space from you, you were heartbroken. The first days you didn’t come out of bed. You were a complete mess. You tried contacting him for an explanation, but you were quick to find out that Lando blocked you on everything. Max helped you a lot, he kept telling you that there was probably a logical reason behind it. But you didn’t knew. You doubted yourself. It didn’t help that you are also in love with Lando. You have been forever. You even thought that he maybe found out and that that was the reason. But Max made sure you dropped that thought. 

Now while finally sitting next to Lando again, you can’t help yourself and feel a few tears roll over your cheeks. It’s insane. You thought things would always be unsolved. Now you know where it came from. It wasn’t your fault. 

“Come here,” Lando tells you softly. He pulls you even closer to himself. You let your body fall against Lando. You lean on his chest while he swipes away a couple of your tears. It’s no use, new ones are forming quickly. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lando says, “so so so sorry.” You hear his voice crack a bit. When you look up at him, you notice that Lando is crying as well. The sight of him this sad, makes you cry even harder. You can’t stop yourself from sobbing loudly. Tears are streaming down your cheeks. Lando pulls you even closer towards him. He hugs you tightly. You barely hear him, but you swear that he’s still apologizing. “So sorry,” you hear him muttering. 

“Why me?” You doubt if Lando hears you correctly. When you want to repeat your question, Lando is already looking up at you. You conclude that he did hear you, but he needs some time for his answer. You know you’ve asked Lando the same question before, but this time you won’t walk away without an answer. 

Lando sobs a bit as well. He tries to make something clear, but the words are coming out as nothings. You wait for him to relax. Slowly you caress his back. 

“It was Zak,” Lando then tells you. “But I shouldn’t have listened to him. I never listened, but that day.. It was so fucking bad.” 

You wait for Lando to continue. 

“Zak always tells me I’m not focused enough,” Lando explains. He talks a bit slower to help himself with the control over his own voice. “He thought it was you,” Lando continues. “He always talked about you being a distraction, but I didn’t do anything about it.” 

You don’t understand Zak. Why would you be more of a distraction then his other friends? 

“I always told him you were not,” Lando tells you, “but he didn’t really believe me. I guess he has his reasons, since he had some valid points sometimes. But still. He told me to cut ties with you for a while, so I could regain my focus on racing.” 

“Valid points?” You ask surprised.

“Every weekend you weren’t around..” Lando starts doubtingly, he wants to explain himself as good as he can but he isn’t sure if he wants to confess his feelings to you. Yet. He just got you back, what if he will lose you again when he tells you? “Uh, I was in a really bad mood,” he continues, “and I was always busy with planning time with you. Texting you, thinking about when I saw you again or FaceTiming.” 

“Oh.. I didn’t realize that,” you respond, “I never noticed..” 

“It’s not your fault. I did all that,” Lando quickly speaks up. 

“Maybe we can work on it?” You suggest. 

“Yeah, we will see,” Lando shrugs, “I want as much contact with you as possible.” 

“But why did you cut all contact?” You ask further, “What happened that day?”

Lando stays quiet for a bit. He thinks about all the possible answers. Can he tell you everything? He thinks about his own feelings that day. He was busy with the disappointing result, but he was also thinking about you all the time. Zak told him before the race and after the race that he should regain his focus or he would never win a race. The only way to regain his focus according to Zak was cutting of the contact with you. 

“It was bad,” Lando sighs. “Zak visited me before the race. He told me I could never be a race winner if I didn’t regain my focus. According to him it was all you. It wasn’t new that he said things like that, but he kept repeating himself.” Lando takes a deep breath. “Then you came to my drivers room. Zak his words were still in my head and that race was so awful. I just lost my ability to think straight. I could only think about winning a race someday.” 

He takes another short break again. 

“If I think back at it, I don’t even know what I told you anymore and how I said it. I know this isn’t a solid reason, I shouldn’t have taken Zak his words this serious, but I was so hurt after the race. I didn’t think straight.”

“Relax Lan,” you tell him, “I forgive you.” 

You don’t know when you made the decision to forgive Lando this fast, but you don’t feel any regret when you tell him those words. Lando is quick to look up at you, focusing his gaze on you. You feel the well known fluttering in your stomach when he looks at you like that. Fuck. Maybe you should talk to him about that as well? 

“Are you serious?” Lando asks you. 

You nod. You open up your arms again to hug him. 

“As if I can life without you any longer,” you tell him. It’s a bit jokingly, but you’re also honest. Last months were a mess, you can’t function properly without Lando. 

“Let’s go to bed,” Lando tells you after a while.

“To bed?” You ask him surprised, “My bed is in a different hotel.”

“Aren’t you staying?” Lando asks, “We always sleep together at race weekends.” 

You smile, “Let’s go to bed then.”

thursday - silverstone 

“So you weren’t kidding,” Zak remarks, “She’s back.” 

“And she stays,” Lando comments harshly.

“I can take her paddock pass away,” Zak goes on. 

“I can stop racing for McLaren,” Lando responds without even thinking about it.

“You can’t, you have a contract till 2025,” Zak throws back. 

“Say one more bad thing about her and you’ll find out how quick I can leave.”

“As if you would. That could mean the end of your career.”

“Zak, I swear to god don’t push me. She’s here. She will be here every race that she wants to be here and you won’t do shit about that.”

After saying those words Lando walks away from his team boss. He is quick to find you in the paddock. Before he shows you that he’s here, he takes a bit of time to look at you. It’s unfair how beautiful you look. He can’t help himself. Every time he sees you, he’s reminded of the fact he still needs to tell you about his feelings. Maybe he dares this weekend. 

“Hey baby,” he greets you while sliding an arm around your shoulders. Together you walk in the paddock. Lando is on his way to the media pannel, after missing it last week, and he will take you with him gladly. 

Everything between Lando and you is back at how it was. Sometimes when you think about it, it already feels like you’re in a relationship with each other. You share beds. He’s always giving you cute pet names, like baby or babygirl. The two of you spend all your free time together. it’s not your end goal, but you’re glad with everything you already have. 

Together the two of you walk towards the media pannel. You always enjoy watching the interviews. 

+++

“So Lando, after your crash from last week we didn’t saw you in the media pannel? Did you have to stay the night after crashing?” 

You already expected a lot of questions for Lando since he missed them last week. You’re curious about his reasons. What will he tell them? 

“No, I was cleared pretty quick,” Lando tells the interviewer, “but I had some things to do after which were more important.” 

“What things?” 

You can’t say you’re surprised by the question. 

“I just crashed, I had some realizations after. Those things I needed to do, I won’t tell you more about it.” 

“What caused your crash?” 

“I wasn’t focused,” Lando tells honestly, “So I made a mistake.” 

“We saw Y/N in the paddock this morning again after missing her for some months, what happened between you two?” 

You gasp. Since when are reporters asking questions like this? This is way too personal. You notice that Lando doesn’t even flinch because of the rude question. 

“That’s the more important thing I needed to do. I think you can ask Zak more questions about that later. Maybe we should get back to talking about the upcoming race?” Lando responds. 

“One more question for you Lando,” the same reporter speaks up, “Are you dating with Y/N? Do we have a new wag?” 

“I don’t think that’s a question about racing,” Lando jokes, “but we’re still really close, just like before.” 

You notice the way Lando doesn’t answer the question. Just like he did before. He never says that he is single or taken. He always says that he’s close with you, nothing more or less. 

saturday - silverstone

“Oh my god Lan!” You can’t help yourself and scream those words out. “That was amazing!” 

Lando pulls you close to himself. He hugs you tightly. He has never gotten quicker out of his car to run towards you. He’s more then happy with himself. Tomorrow he can start from the front row. He almost got the pole position as well. That would have been amazing as well, but still p2 is already amazing. 

Lando almost kisses you. When he looks in your eyes and sees the proud look you’re carrying he can barely stop himself from kissing you. Fuck. This is getting out of hand. He needs to tell you soon. He hides his face in your neck. 

“You did so well,” you continue, “fucking second place. That’s amazing.” 

Lando smiles at your words. He missed this. He missed you. The best part of getting out of the car is always having you there for him. If the race went bad, you always try to comfort him and if it went well you’re here to celebrate with him. 

“I’m so proud of you.”

+++

“Congratulations Lando!” The presentator greets him enthusiastic, “That’s an amazing result. How did you experience it?” 

“The car was flying,” Lando exclaims happily, “Everything went well. I hope we can keep this up tomorrow and finish somewhere on the podium.” 

“So you found back your focus after last week?”

“Yeah,” Lando confesses with a small smile, “I’m fully focused on getting the best results.” 

“What changed with last week? Are it the upgrades on the car?”

“Of course we did some major upgrades which really pays off,” Lando says, “but it’s also my own mentality.”

“And what upgrades did that get?” 

“My good luck charm got back.” 

sunday - silverstone

“So when are you telling her?” 

“Telling her what?”

“Don’t act stupid Lando,” Max says, “We both know I’m asking you when you’re going to confess your feelings.” 

Lando sighs. “I don’t know,” he says, “I don’t want to cause other drama between us. I just got her back.”

“I don’t think it will end that badly,” Max reacts, “Just tell her mate, I think you’ll be relieved by the end of it.” 

+++

The race is getting close to ending. Your heart is beating faster then ever before in your chest. Lando is trying to hold back Lewis Hamilton. Lando his tires are worser. You can only hope for the best. Every move they make you’re gasping. You’re watching from the McLaren garage, you keep on hoping that you will move to the podium in a few laps. You can’t wait to see Lando on the podium again. 

“I think we need to talk.”

You almost jump up when you hear those words. You don’t have to look up to know who’s talking to you, but you still do. Of course it’s Zak himself. 

“I think so too.”

You decide to keep yourself together. You don’t have to scream at Zak for everything he ruined. You just need to stay calm. 

“You’re a distraction for him,” Zak tells you. 

You watch how Lewis almost passes Lando. It’s a close one. Lando barely stays in front of him. 

“I don’t want you holding him back. I can’t imagine that you’ll want that yourself? Lando is world champion material, but he can’t have distractions around him. He needs to focus on racing,” Zak continues. 

You don’t look away from the screen. Lewis is making himself ready to try again. Fuck. You’re praying for Lando to stay in front of him. 

“So, what do we need to do to make sure you won’t distract him anymore?” Zak asks you.

“Are you asking me how much money you need to give me for leaving Lando alone?” You ask back. You don’t know if you understood, but according to you it seemed like that was what the man asked you. 

“Yes. Or do you want anything else?” 

“I want you to fuck off.” 

“Oh come on, everyone can be bought.”

You let out an annoyed sigh. Who does this man think he is? 

“Listen Zak, I’m not leaving. This trick isn’t working. I’m here for Lando and when he will chose a team that will build him an actual car from day one, I’ll be there for him. If he choses to keep driving for you for the rest of his life, I’ll be here too. I love him.”

“You distract him.”

“Please stop whining in my ear,” Lando’s radio message is coming in quite loudly. “Can’t you get y/n in here?”

“You want y/n?” His engineer asks. 

“Yeah. I need to focus. Let her talk to me.” 

You laugh right in front of Zak his face while walking towards to board radio. “Such a distraction,” you tell Zak, “but who does he need to focus? Oh me, the distraction.” 

“Y/n,” Lando his voice is even harder now you’re wearing the headphones. 

“Hi Lan,” you react, “What do you want me to say?” 

“I don’t care. Please just talk to me.” 

“I think you can hold him off,” you tell Lando. 

“You think I can hold off a seven time world champion with these tires? Did you notice he’s on softs?” Lando asks you sarcastic. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Didn’t I?”

You hear Lando laugh in your ear. 

“Come on Lan, just keep fighting. You’re doing great! He can’t push all the way to the finish like this. Just focus.” 

“You think I can do this?”

“I know you can.”

You fall silent for a bit while watching Lando block Lewis again. You don’t want to distract him, but you don’t know what to do. What does he want? Do you need to keep talking? 

“Keep talking,” Lando begs you. 

“Okay,” you say softly. “I can gossip for a bit. You know this girl from my work, yeah? She and that terrible boyfriend finally broke up!” 

You keep on talking about silly things that happened to you and your surroundings for a bit. Lando keeps fighting Lewis and he is still driving in front of him. 

“I think he’s given up Lan, he doesn’t have DRS anymore.”

“Let’s go out for dinner after the race,” Lando says after a while. He’s almost done. Two more laps to go. 

“I think you’ll be busy with celebrating your podium,” you react grinning. 

“We’re going out for dinner.”

“Okay,” you reply this time.

“It’s a date.”

A date? What did just happen?

+++

Lando can’t describe everything he’s feeling at the moment. He notices Max standing close to him while he’s still sitting in the McLaren. He can’t believe it actually happened. He finally got a podium this season. It feels insane. First he got you back and now a podium. Finally everything feels right again. He gets out of his car. His only thoughts are going to you. The way you helped him with talking about nonsense over his radio. He never felt this focused before. He fought off Hamilton. That’s amazing. And it’s even more amazing because of the tire disadvantage he had. He walks - or better say runs - towards his team, but he searches for you. Are you also here? Different team members pat his back, his helmet and everything else. 

Then he spots you. 

Lando walks away from his team members after telling him multiple thanks again. He smiles. Quickly he pulls off his helmet. In the mean time he walks closer to you. 

You. The one who’s wearing a piece of his newest merchandise, even though you find the color hideous. He feels proud. He can’t stop thinking about the way you helped him and the way you’re looking at him right now. It feels amazing. 

Before Lando knows it, he’s standing in front of you. 

“I’m so proud of you!” 

The words mean everything to him. He wants to say thanks, but somehow his words get twisted up inside his brain and on his tongue. 

“I love you.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that? 

Before he can progress what he just did and how he ruined everything again, you’re talking to him. 

“Then kiss me.”

Lando has never put his lips faster on someone then now. He pulls you as close as himself as he can manage. Stupid fences in between. Your soft lips are bringing him in some sort of trance. How can everything feel so right with you? He has kissed people before, but it was never like this. This is something else. Something completely new. This is how it must feel when you kiss someone you actually love. 

When you pull back Lando his trance ends slowly. He’s still processing everything that just happened. Did you actually tell him to kiss you? What if he heard wrong. He’s almost about to apologize, but you’re speaking again. 

“I love you too by the way,” you tell him with a small smile plastered on your face.

Lando lets out a relieved sigh. 

This is the best day ever.

“But I think you need to get your trophy now,” you tell him with the same cute smile. 

Lando doesn’t know what to say. He turns around to go on with everything that comes with a podium. He turns back one more time and looks at you. 

“I love you,” he says again. 

You show him another smile and blow him a kiss. 

Best day ever, he thinks again.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Do you know any bestfriend peter and stiles fixes no steter just really good best friends I just feel like there so underrated <3

Yeah!

Accident by Chattalgi

(1/1 I 964 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Stiles hurts himself.

Derek is there to help.

I’ll Go Through a Million Tragedies Just to Be with You by Ghosted_Redacted

(1/? I 993 I Not Rated I Stackson)

Stiles is suffering after the nogitsune, but that doesn’t mean he has to suffer alone. Sure, no one in town other than an (ex) homicidal werewolf, but that’s…fine.

But then he gets a call from London.

And maybe people do care.

(In other words: everyone suffers. But everyone also finds someone to love)

Two of Swords by pixieblade

(1/1 I 7,484 I Teen I Sterek)

Denial, blocking off emotions, avoidance of and not seeing the truth, stalemate, impasse.

---

They gather to stare at the orb. It's cold, where it should be warm. There's death, where life should flourish. One reaches out a hand, takes the freezing orb and presses it deep against his chest, sharing warmth and life and love.

'Breathe, little spark,' he whispers softly. Finding gentleness when it was once so lost to him. 'Breathe,' he coaxes. 'We're here. You're not alone anymore. Never again.'

The orb shudders in his embrace. Tears, like a melodic tinkling, dance across it's surface as it gives in and sinks into the heat of the other.

Never again, it repeats, and prays the other is right.

Wild (Blue Neighborhood) by BeautyOnFyre

(1/1 I 11,029 I Teen I Sterek)

Peter's lethargic body was unresponsive as he sat in the wheelchair, endlessly staring out the window of his hospital room. His side twinged a bit from the rough scrubbing the nurse had given his mottled flesh earlier and he ached to move even a finger.

"Uncle Peter?" The small voice was behind him in the doorway. He remembered that voice. Contrary to the title bestowed from the small girl that rounded his chair into his line of sight, Stiles Stilinski was not related to Peter at all.

Or how Stiles and Peter became best friends for life and brought Stiles into the Pack.

A Wolf's Ribbon by Dexterous_Sinistrous

(6/6 I 36,091 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek had been coached on how to approach the child heir apparent while hundreds of eyes watched him. He kept his eyes focused on the cradle, leaning over the edge as best he could to see the baby everyone had been talking about.

Stiles smiled when he saw Derek, kicking his legs out as he reached a hand up for him. He cooed at Derek, his fingers grabbing at the older boy in an attempt to touch him, all to no avail. He gurgled out a laugh when Derek reached a hand down into the cradle, snatching hold of his fingers as best he could.

Derek offered a small smile in response, allowing Stiles to playfully tug on his hand.

The two children made an adorable sight before the Court and their parents. That was the moment Queen Talia and King John decided to arrange their marriage. Every second was planned out without the voiced concern of the children.

It takes a village by pixieblade

(32/? I 78,312 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles is tired. He's tired of always having to defend himself to his so-called best friend. He's tired of being ignored and he's tired of the Pack never having his back.

So this is his line. He'd draw it in the sand, but all he has is a glitter sharpie.

It'll have to do.

Baseball Bats and Sour Wolves by Erin1324

(68/? I 84,425 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek is cursed with some sort of spell, and for some reason only responds to Stiles as a result. He tries to attack everyone else, even his Alpha, he's also acting super overprotective of Stiles, hardly letting anyone get close to him.

Joining the Fang Gang by AClosedFicIsNeverRead

(21/? I 87,645 I Explicit I Sterek)

“Lydia? Lydia, look at me,” Derek urged, a slight tremor in his voice as he fought to be gentle with her despite his alarm. She blinked through tears and struggled to meet his gaze as he crouched in front of her. “What did you see?”

“Forest… It’s dark… His Dad is screaming for him…” Her lips trembled as she shook her head and gasped, “Oh, God… He’s dying, Derek. I can feel it… It hurts so much… Oh, poor Stiles…”

- OR -

The one where Stiles is turned into a vampire, hides it from the pack, and tries to manage his new 'condition' without them noticing.

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 15 | 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, SLOW BURN, ANGST (including some miscommunication due to alcohol & descriptions of anxiety)

words: 10.9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 15 ► i had the whole damn world and i gave it all away, what did i think i would save?

Waking up on a good day was not a pleasant experience for Jungkook. But waking up that morning in Tilburg felt a bit like having his brain pulled out through his nose with a metal hook.

The bus was dim—was he on the bus? How did he get here in the first place?—and the slightest light coming from the skylight made his eyes sting. His head seemed to split in two, and his whole body felt as if he had deliberately allowed a lawnmower to run over him.

So this was a hangover, then.

He hadn’t had many of those in his life, which of course, did not indicate how often he drank. Maybe he had lost his ability to drink without getting really drunk. Or maybe he drank so much that even this ability wasn’t enough.

“You awake?” a voice asked, and the kaleidoscope of sharp echoes in Jungkook’s head forced him to retreat further into his bunk.

“Why,” he uttered, each word like fire in his parched mouth, “would you yell?”

A chuckle in response helped him identify the speaker as Hoseok.

“You’re the only one still sleeping. Everyone else is getting pancakes for breakfast,” he said. “Do you want to know what ‘pancake batter’ is in Dutch? Word on the street is, pronouncing it three times in front of the mirror will kill you.”

“I will kill you,” Jungkook retorted, “unless you can bring me some water. Please?”

Amused, Hoseok walked to the back of the bus where the mini-fridge was. He grabbed a bottle and brought it to the younger member before settling on the edge of his bunk.

“Here,” he said. “Why’d you drink so much last night in any case?”

It took incredible effort for Jungkook to sit up, but he managed—while groaning and moaning, and glaring at Hoseok each time the older boy chuckled at his exaggerated struggle.

Jungkook took the water bottle and emptied half of it in one gulp, but it didn’t make much of a difference. The bitter aftertaste lingered in his mouth, and every word he spoke still felt like acid.

“I can’t remember,” he said, even though something inside of him told him that this wasn’t true. Apart from the pain, he also felt this heavy unease—as if he had an apocalyptic event scheduled for this afternoon, and he needed to prepare for it, hence the excessive drinking. “I’m sure I had a reason.”

Hoseok assumed as much and he asked, “did something happen?”

“I—” Jungkook interrupted himself when he threw his head back to finish the rest of the water. This didn’t help either, and now his stomach felt uncomfortably heavy. He said again, “I don’t know. Can’t remember.”

“I saw you leave the venue with—”

“I remember that,” he said quickly as if he was afraid to hear the conclusions Hoseok had drawn after seeing him leave with you.

“Where’d you two go?” Hoseok asked.

“To this park,” Jungkook said, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers as he tried to bring last night back to him. He remembered kissing you. Unless he’d dreamt that, of course. Both options were likely. Neither was acceptable to say out loud. Weakly, he continued, “uh… I don’t really—we talked there.”

Since Hoseok did not know what had really happened between you and Jungkook at that park, he followed up with the logical question, “did you have a fight?”

“No, we…” Jungkook sighed. Another memory returned, this one more vivid than the kiss he thought he remembered—which was a shame. He would have preferred the kiss. He opened his eyes and looked at Hoseok questioningly, “Namjoon called her. Yoongi’s laptop?”

“Ah, yeah.” The older boy laughed. “They went to McDonald’s and left it there. Then they got so wasted, they forgot about it.”

Jungkook snorted weakly. “Idiots.”

It gave him great pleasure to say the word, because for once, it wasn’t him who was being described here.

“Just like you, huh?” Hoseok teased nonetheless. “Seems like everyone had a reason to drink last night.”

Jungkook ignored the gentle jab and focused on remembering you.

“Did you see her this morning?” he asked.

Hoseok nodded.

“Did she seem angry?” Jungkook continued, hoping for a clue about the rest of the night. The last thing he seemed to remember was the truck stop. He was alone in his memory, but he assumed that was because you hadn’t returned from finding the missing laptop yet.

Jungkook didn’t think you had gone drinking with him last night; he seemed to remember—or just assumed—that you had left before he got drunk. And he realised that he knew why he got drunk – he was worried about the bet and how he would tell you.

He thought he remembered talking to someone about this last night, but it couldn’t have been you, because he recalled being called “son.” It must have been someone else at the bar, then. Maybe the bartender.

But what happened afterwards? Did his chest hurt so much because he still hadn’t told you?

“No. She didn’t seem angry,” Hoseok said. “But she’s never angry with me because I never give her a reason to be.”

The teasing smile on the older member’s face made Jungkook grimace. “Good for you.”

Hoseok chuckled because he didn’t get to see Jungkook like this often. Usually, the entire band was wiped out with a cursed hangover, and Jungkook was the one obnoxious ray of sunshine in the room. Hoseok and the others always thought this was unfair. Clearly, this morning was a welcome change.

“She seemed okay,” Hoseok said. Then, more seriously, he asked, “you think you did something? Besides getting drunk, I mean.”

The younger boy exhaled and watched the bedding on his bunk for a minute. It was black and seemed even darker in the shadow inside the bus. It did nothing whatsoever to jog his memory.

He was worried that he had done something very terrible. Not worse than having made the bet in the first place, but terrible nonetheless.

What if he’d missed his chance to tell you and someone else had told you first? Probably not Sid, because he may have been an absolute dickhead, but he needed to win the bet fairly to be satisfied. But what if—

Taehyung, he thought suddenly.

Taehyung knew. What if he’d found you while Jungkook was in the bar?

You tell her or I will, Taehyung had said to him back in Amsterdam.

What if he had told you everything because he couldn’t bear to keep it to himself any longer?

Jungkook had seen how distressed the bassist was. He had noticed how he kept avoiding his eyes when they were in the same room.

Groaning, Jungkook pressed his palms to his forehead and strained to remember something. Did he talk to you after you returned with the laptop? What did he say? More importantly, what did you say that left him half-paralysed with this unidentified worry?

“I… don’t really…” Jungkook tried to cling to a memory and see what happened next, but his thoughts remained muddled. Did he kiss you in the park before or after you told him about your parents’ tumultuous relationship?

“Did you drink together?” Hoseok enquired, slipping into investigator mode as he crossed his legs on Jungkook’s bunk. He thought he was being helpful, but Jungkook felt pressured into giving answers that wouldn’t reveal too much—you’d rubbed off on him, he supposed. Or maybe he just didn’t want to upset you any more than he may have already had. “Or did you get drunk after she left to find the laptop?”

“After. I think,” Jungkook said. “I was driving before.”

“Driving?” Hoseok repeated, visibly surprised.

Jungkook waved his hand dismissively. “Long story.”

Hoseok noticed that Jungkook was struggling to speak in longer sentences, as evidenced by his colourless face as he shrank away from the skylight. He decided to quit questioning, assuming it was a hangover that plagued the younger boy.

Instead, he shared his last memory, hoping it would be helpful: “I think I heard you come back. At about nine.”

It was not helpful.

Jungkook frowned and asked, “you were already awake?”

“Well, Namjoon and Yoongi caused a scene on the bus earlier,” Hoseok explained, shrugging one of his shoulders. “They woke everyone up and I couldn’t really fall asleep after that.”

“Oh.”

“But I can’t help you with anything else. Sorry,” he said, biting his lip. “Maybe once your hangover wears off, you’ll remember.”

Jungkook lowered his head because it started to burn when he attempted to shake it in response.

Stubbornly, he mumbled, “I’m never hungover.”

Hoseok was about to laugh but he managed to contain it to a soft snicker. “Well, you’re hungover now, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

“What time is it?” Jungkook asked.

Hoseok had to check his phone first.

“Eleven,” he said.

“Eleven?” Jungkook repeated, his mind fighting against him as he tried to piece the timeline together. “I only slept for… if you saw me at nine, then I only slept for—wait, and you said you hadn’t slept at all?”

Hoseok shook his head, but looking at his phone had distracted him. Truthfully, he hadn’t told Jungkook everything he knew.

He had seen Minjun half-carrying a drunk Jungkook onto the bus at around eight-forty this morning. Hoseok remembered the time because his phone had died about a minute later, and he didn’t get to finish the Falling in Reverse album that he had been listening to on a loop that night.

Minjun’s presence might have sparked a memory, but Hoseok decided not to mention it. He preferred it when Jungkook’s friends weren’t involved in the situations that Jungkook seemed to have forgotten about, and he didn’t want the younger boy to go looking for said friends right away.

“Get something to eat,” Hoseok said, getting up from the bunk. “Pancakes. That’ll help you.”

Eating didn’t sound terrible, but it wasn’t that easy. For one thing, standing up seemed almost like a Herculean task right now—Jungkook was only slightly exaggerating here: he could extend a hand. But a leg? Not so much. And walking was probably completely out of the question.

“Yeah, fine,” he said as he lowered himself face-down onto the mattress, preparing to get out of the bunk—either by crawling or rolling out. “But I need to wash up a bit first. Somehow.”

“Yeah, that’d probably be good,” Hoseok agreed. “You reek of a bar.”

Jungkook glared—more at his pillow than at Hoseok—and mumbled, “thanks for the help.”

“Anytime!” Hoseok said with his usual good-natured laugh. He watched Jungkook try to stand and decided that the younger boy had brought this on himself, so it would do him good to find a way out himself, too. Approaching the door of the bus, Hoseok added, “I’ll wait for you outside. Don’t hurt yourself!”

Straining and grunting, Jungkook managed to wash up, despite his almost unbearable headache and the cramped bathroom of the bus—it was, really, just a toilet and the smallest sink imaginable. He slammed his knees into the wall twice and kicked himself in the shins one and a half times.

He could still taste the whiskey in his mouth, and he thought he could still smell it on himself as well—he’d need a proper shower, maybe several, to get rid of that—but he felt a little better. The improvement was barely noticeable, but it was there, and he got off the bus with a lighter step.

He wondered if the restaurant outside only served pancakes, as Hoseok had advertised, or if they were also prepared to make some other dishes, such as the greasiest, oiliest chicken possible.

When he got off the bus, hoping to find out, he first spotted Hoseok who was lifting his chin and pointing forward, gesturing for him to go on.

Jungkook turned his head and immediately saw you standing right at the entrance of the restaurant. He forgot all about Hoseok and the food.

Right away, he felt an odd sensation in his stomach; something that transcended worry and turned into outright terror. He watched you for a minute, almost petrified. His feet refused to budge as if his body remembered last night better than his mind.

You noticed him in the middle of your conversation with Luna. You saw him freeze first, then eventually start to walk towards you. Right after your eyes met, you looked back at Luna briefly and turned to enter the restaurant without a second glance in his direction.

This was, of course, hardly the reaction Jungkook had been hoping for because one of your last interactions that he could remember with questionable certainty was a kiss.

The horror inside him grew. Something must have really happened last night—something so horrible that his mind chose to drown in alcohol rather than remember it.

Maybe he had found you after Taehyung had talked to you last night, and he’d attempted to make amends, but he was too drunk to tell you everything he needed to tell you…

He had to find out. He had to fix it.

Jungkook walked past Luna, gave her a quick nod hello—and cringed in pain when he moved his head, therefore missing the glare she gave him—and went in after you.

He called out your name, then touched your shoulder. You turned around very slowly, almost reluctantly. He suspected that if he hadn’t touched you, you would have ignored him altogether.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

You gave him one look – maybe even less than that – and turned away, taking a small step to the side to escape his touch.

Before you looked away, it seemed to him that you hadn’t slept at all. He knew you well enough to recognise that. He also knew you well enough to recognise the obvious disapproval on your face—as if you were talking to Sid and not him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What happened last night?

“I don’t have time,” you finally said, and his panic deepened.

“Please?” he asked, trailing behind you as you walked towards a table by the window in the farthest corner from the entrance. You’d chosen it as your workspace, but Luna had persuaded you to have breakfast with her and the boys first.

Right away, Jungkook spotted Taehyung, Luna and Yoongi on the other side of the restaurant—all three of them were watching Jungkook follow you.

“I appreciate the manners,” you said as you walked, “but I still don’t have time.”

Close to despair, he whispered—as if your friends could overhear your conversation from across the room, “d-did something happen last night?”

This finally made you turn around and look at him.

Suddenly, he wished you hadn’t.

There was a look in your eyes that reminded him of something. He couldn’t quite place that look, but he felt his chest tighten so much that his heart could barely fit inside, the beating violent and terrified.

It wasn’t anger that he saw when he looked at you. It wasn’t contempt, either. Nor disgust, nor revulsion—it wasn’t anything he had expected to see.

It was a weary disappointment—as if you had been worried about something for a long time, but still hoped it wouldn’t happen, and it did. It happened. And Jungkook realised in horror that he was probably what you were worried about.

“No,” you said, deciding that it wouldn’t do either of you any good to argue here. It scared him, this split-second decision that you made. He wanted you to shout at him, he wanted to see the fire in your eyes. He was afraid of the emptiness he found in them instead. You finished, “nothing significant happened at all. Not last night, or any night before.”

Your words disturbed him. It sounded—and his head began to pound much harder than his heart—like you were talking about all these weeks in Europe. All that the two of you had done together.

He swallowed the concern on his tongue. He still felt half-drunk and three-quarters hungover, so he didn’t know if the assumptions he was making were a result of a hangover paranoia or if he’d interpreted everything you’d said correctly. Honestly, he didn’t even want to know. But he had to ask.

“W-what is that supposed to mean?”

He realised he was clinging onto a tiny, pitiful hope that he’d seen the look in your eyes in a distant nightmare and not right in front of him at the truck stop last night. It seemed more and more unlikely the longer that he waited for you to speak, but while he breathed, he hoped.

“It’s supposed to mean that you need to get something to eat and join the rest of your band,” you said, picking up your coffee cup from the table next to you. Jungkook noticed that there was nothing else on it, just a stack of papers, your laptop, and your phone. “I have work to do.”

Suddenly, he wanted to pause this uncomfortable exchange where the two of you stayed quiet about more things than you expressed. He wanted to tell you that it was you who should have got something to eat. He wanted to remind you not to overwork yourself.

But the way you looked at him was an alarming indication that it wasn’t his place to say these things to you anymore.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck—

“Did you…” Jungkook tried to choose his words carefully. “Did you talk to someone last night? After we got back from the park, I mean?”

You looked startled somehow as you swallowed your coffee and set the empty cup down. Then you gave him a smile with not one bit of humour or kindness behind it, and he felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle with horror.

You did talk to someone. And he made the mistake of asking who it was.

“I didn’t talk to anyone important,” you finally said.

That was enough to confirm all of his foreboding senses.

“You know,” he concluded breathlessly.

Looking away instead of acknowledging his vague—but obviously correct—statement, you picked up your belongings from the table.

“I know enough to see that you need to eat and then sleep this off,” you said. “You smell like a bottle of Jack Daniels.”

You tried to walk past him, but Jungkook moved to block your way.

“Who told you?” he pressed.

You raised your eyebrows at the question.

“Are you—okay.” You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. You tried to phrase your next words as tactfully as possible, aware that you would have a large audience if you raised your voice here. “It’s a little mind-blowing to me that you think the issue here is who told me. And it’s a lot mind-blowing that you dare to ask me that.”

Uncomfortable under your affronted gaze, Jungkook blinked and looked away. His heavy head was slowly dragging him to the floor, and he leaned against the table for more support.

“I—I’m really sorry,” he said, not daring to look at you again because the emptiness in your eyes was so discomfiting that it felt almost unnatural. He realised, painfully, that he’d taken all of your timid glances for granted. He missed them now—so much.

But as soon as the apology was out of his mouth, he immediately remembered that he had said the exact same words to you. Unfortunately, he had said them to you many times before.

This could have been déjà vu.

It could have been a memory from weeks ago.

But it also could have been a memory from last night.

Now you were hesitating. You didn’t know what he was apologising for specifically, and you suspected that he didn’t know, either. Then you finally nodded your head.

Jungkook worried that you’d come to a decision—a final one, to make up for all the previous times you’d claimed this was final but hadn’t meant it.

Now you looked like you meant it.

You didn’t offer him any relief from his misery and gave him no hints of what had happened after you returned from the park.

Instead, you said, “eat something,” and walked around him.

He didn’t stop you this time. He knew he couldn’t.

But he also knew that he would find you as soon as he figured out how you discovered the truth and whether he talked to you after that.

You joined Yoongi, Taehyung, and Luna at a table in the annexe of the pancake restaurant, right next to a wall-sized window with a view of the vast, completely empty fields of green behind the building.

“Everything okay?” Luna asked as you sat down in the remaining empty chair by the table, next to Yoongi.

You were uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on you. You knew they’d witnessed the exchange you’d just shared with Jungkook, but you didn’t know what they thought they saw.

“Absolutely,” you replied in a manner so manufactured that they could all tell it was insincere.

While you pretended to be interested in the food that your friends had ordered for you, Yoongi glanced at everyone by the table one after the other.

“Is, uh, something wrong?” he asked, fixing his gaze on you. “With Jungkook?”

“No,” you said. Again, with a noticeable bitterness. “Some tension, that’s all.”

Yoongi was still processing your revelation about Reconnaissance. Yesterday, he had told you that you didn’t have to tell anyone else about it, but he wasn’t sure if he’d really meant it. He assumed you could guess as much. And now he was starting to think that you’d told Jungkook about it, after all.

Carefully, he asked, “did Jungkook get mad at you for not telling him about… things?”

Yoongi wasn’t very good at being discreet. You saw Taehyung frown as he looked up at you.

Taehyung was understandably confused. He thought it was Jungkook who hadn’t told you “things.” Why would he be the one getting mad?

“No,” you said to Yoongi. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be mad here. But it’s fine. I just—I’m not even—I just need a minute.”

Huh, Taehyung thought to himself as he continued to eat in silence. You were obviously seething. Something must have happened.

He had suspected that Jungkook was going to tell you last night when the two of you left together (and, naturally, Taehyung went to find Luna right after witnessing your exit, so he could finally calm himself down). But if Jungkook told you—what the hell was Yoongi on about?

“Well, wait a second,” Yoongi pushed, also very confused. “What do you mean? Why are you mad?”

To him, it seemed like you were prepared to handle the news about Reconnaissance on your own. He thought it was possible that Jungkook had reacted very negatively when you told him and he’d said something upsetting. He knew the vocalist would be unhappy if he found out that you were getting offers to leave Rated Riot.

That would explain—sort of—your emotions. And if that was the case, Yoongi was prepared to interfere.

“Did he say something to you?” he asked. “If he’s upset about this… possibility, then I can talk—”

“Yoongi,” Luna cut in with a rushed whisper. “I don’t think this is about Reconnaissance.”

She was quick to figure out that you had told Yoongi about Nick’s offer—it wasn’t difficult, considering Yoongi was about as vague as a treasure map with a giant X on it. She wanted him to drop the topic before you were forced to admit that this was actually about Jungkook’s bet.

Luna could tell from your body language when you saw Jungkook—and from the way you were about to bend the fork in your hand right now—that you finally knew about the bet, too.

Taehyung, on the other hand, remained simply baffled.

He knew about the bet, sure. But he looked up from his plate again, and correctly guessed from the frowns on everyone’s faces that he was the only one who did not know about this Reconnaissance business that Luna had just mentioned.

“Reconnaissance?” he asked. “What about Reconnaissance?”

He appeared to enjoy saying the band’s name and seemed oblivious to your cringing every time he said it.

You looked up at Luna first—her eyes were wide as she realised that she shouldn’t have mentioned the band outright. To make matters worse, it suddenly occurred to her that you didn’t know that she and Taehyung knew about the bet, so you must have been confused as to why she would divert the topic so suddenly and plunge you straight into a different awkward conversation.

But before she could apologise, you turned to Yoongi, who lowered his head as soon as he met your eyes. He realised that he couldn’t ask Luna what she’d meant—what else could you and Jungkook argue about?—because there was a more important discussion waiting to happen.

You cleared your throat.

“Nothing important,” you finally said. “Their manager contacted me the other day about an open position in their staff, but I told him I wasn’t interested. I mentioned this to, uh—to Luna. And to Yoongi, too, a few days ago.”

You chose not to reveal that Maggie and Namjoon also knew about this, so Taehyung wouldn’t feel as left out as you assumed you had just made him feel.

There were several things that Taehyung struggled to process here. He tried to look at his girlfriend for help first, but Luna purposefully made herself busy by drinking her orange juice. Then he glanced over at his bandmate, but Yoongi turned his entire body away from him to look out the window.

Clearly, neither one of them wanted to explain why they weren’t questioning you about this, so it took Taehyung a minute to find his words.

“But this is…” he started, then paused. “It’s big!”

“Yeah, I—well, you know,” you said while knowing that he didn’t know. You felt guilty and uncomfortable having to explain this right after he found out that you’d kept it from him. “I-I’m happy here. I like what I do. I would—I’d have far less responsibility, but a lot more pressure if I went to work with them.”

Taehyung considered this.

“It would be a great opportunity, t-that’s true,” you added, sounding increasingly uncertain as you spoke. “They’re million-dollar sellers. But I don’t—I want to reach that level with you guys. Not join someone who’s already at the top. Where’s the fun in that?”

You smiled as you finished, hoping to soften the impact of the news. Taehyung finally allowed his muscles to relax a little as he leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his iced tea.

“I see,” he said, placing the glass back on the table. “Okay. So, you’re staying. Right?”

You were on the verge of responding—because you thought you’d just be repeating yourself again—but then you stopped.

You said you were happy here.

You said you weren’t interested in leaving.

But you didn’t, technically, say that you were staying.

You’d said it to Maggie and Luna, and then to Yoongi and Namjoon. But that was before you allowed yourself to confront your feelings for Jungkook while he just tried to win a bet against Sid.

And now you were hesitating.

When you eventually nodded, the assurance from your lips sounded far less convincing. “Mhmm. Yes.”

Silence settled at the table until Luna, still feeling guilty about the slip-up (she would apologise to you as soon as the boys were out of earshot), changed the topic to something completely unrelated: namely the sights she thought would be interesting to see once you were in London.

You hoped to avoid discussing Reconnaissance again, but Nick’s offer had suddenly gained more weight in your mind.

As you returned to your designated workspace after breakfast, you remembered the pros and cons list that Maggie had suggested back in Oslo.

The pros of leaving Rated Riot and joining Reconnaissance had expanded dangerously following your conversation with Jungkook last night.

You worried. You didn’t think you would actually leave, at least not just because of this ridiculous bet. But the more you thought about it—and the more you remembered that Jungkook’s friends were right around here somewhere—the more you couldn’t help it.

Would it really be so terrible to continue your career with a band that had a massive following and did not have your ex-boyfriend as a member, and his good-for-nothing friends as a persistent shadow?

Contrary to what Hoseok had promised and what he had expected himself, eating didn’t make Jungkook feel better. If anything, it only made him feel more irritated.

As he mindlessly chewed the pancakes—which were probably delicious, really, but they tasted like napkins in his hungover mouth—he went over the conversation he’d just had with you.

Again, he arrived at the same conclusion: you knew about the bet.

But everything else in his mind was speculation.

He might have talked to you after you found out, and he might not have handled it very well.

He might not have talked to you after you found out, which was just as bad.

He realised then, with a sinking feeling in his cotton-filled stomach, that he might have also been the one who told you about it.

That would have almost been good, he’d meant to tell you—but when he was sober. And, ideally, without forgetting about it the next day.

He hoped desperately that this wasn’t what had happened. But he needed to know for certain.

He had concluded earlier that only one other person could have talked to you about this, so he pushed his plate away and looked around.

He didn’t spot Taehyung here anymore. But Luna was standing by the cash register.

He stood up and approached her right away.

She didn’t look particularly pleased to talk to him, and Jungkook quickly surmised that she knew about the bet, too. He fully expected this since Taehyung considered her mind an extension of his own. Now, Jungkook thought, he had even more reasons to talk to him.

Luna informed him that Taehyung had felt tired and returned to the bus for a short nap. She said she was waiting to grab some dessert for him.

Jungkook couldn’t thank her for the information quickly enough.

Acting solely on instinct, he ran out of the restaurant, flung open the bus door, and marched inside. He was glad to see that the bus was empty except for Taehyung lying in his bunk.

“Did you tell her?!” Jungkook fired immediately. He wasn’t sure if he’d meant to sound so accusing—he was simply frantic to learn what was hiding in the dark spots of his memory.

Flinching at the sudden shouting that he managed to hear over his music, Taehyung opened his eyes and sat up. He paused the song on his phone and raised his eyes.

He didn’t have to ask what Jungkook meant.

“I didn’t tell her anything,” he said as he pulled his earpods out of his ears and slid them back into their case.

“I saw you talking to her after the show last night. Did you find her and tell her later?” Jungkook demanded through agitated, heavy breaths. “You were with her and Luna at the restaurant just now.”

“I didn’t see her after you left. And all I said to her after the show was that she should talk to you,” Taehyung explained, displaying more patience than most people would under the circumstances. “And I didn’t really talk to her much at the restaurant.”

Slowly—because he was fuming, and the entire bus was red—Jungkook accepted that this was most likely the truth. Your response to him changed after last night, not after the concert. He assumed it was because you’d talked to someone while he wasn’t there, but maybe Taehyung wasn’t that someone.

Again, he remembered Sid. He could still ask him, he supposed, even if he doubted that Sid told you.

But there was a very big problem with this plan. If Sid found out that you knew about the bet, he would immediately amplify all of Jungkook’s problems by claiming that someone broke the rules of the bet—even if Sid was the one who told you.

He’d organise a manhunt, Jungkook didn’t doubt it. Or maybe he’d just blame Jungkook straight away—never mind that the bet ceased to exist to Jungkook the moment he barged into Sid’s room in Amsterdam, and demanded they ended it.

No. It was better to keep Sid out of this.

Jungkook swallowed and shuddered faintly when he felt the bitter aftertaste of everything that he’d drunk last night.

“Did you tell anyone?” he asked Taehyung.

Looking down, Taehyung brought his tongue over his lips. “Well...”

“Anyone other than Luna, I mean.”

“No. You asked me not to. I only told her after I assumed—”

“Okay, well,” Jungkook cut in, guilty suddenly, about forcing his friend into this. “C-could Luna have told her?”

“She could have,” Taehyung admitted. “But she was with me the whole night. And besides, she agreed that it should be you who tells her. That’s what I thought you were going to do last night.”

Jungkook shut his eyes and exhaled so deeply that Taehyung could feel it on his face from two metres away. “I don’t… I was—it would have—”

Interrupting his miserable struggle to construct a full sentence, the older boy reiterated, “we didn’t tell her. Honestly, I assumed that you did.”

Taehyung had had doubts before, but seeing Jungkook’s uncontrollable frustration right now convinced him that you must know about the bet.

Still, Jungkook’s confusion confused him.

It had to be Jungkook who told you. Who else could have?

“Well, I was—” Jungkook swallowed before charging, “actually, wh—what—what right did you have to tell her to talk to me? After I specifically asked you not to tell anyone! She obviously understood that something’s up.”

Taehyung looked offended at the outburst.

But Jungkook couldn’t control himself.

The longer he stayed away from you on the bus, the more he hurt. The more he understood that none of this mattered—not who told you, not what he said to you afterwards.

What mattered was this: he had made the bet. And you knew about it.

And now he wasn’t sure what would happen next and the guilt and the fear and the hurt could not fit in his chest anymore. He desperately needed a real, tangible something to blame his pain on. He needed someone else to be at fault.

“Something is up. And she’s our manager,” Taehyung said. “And you clearly need… managing.”

Childishly, Jungkook retorted, “you don’t know what I need.”

“You told me, because this was bothering you,” the older member said. “I was trying to help you do the right thing.”

Jungkook frowned so deeply that a permanent wrinkle was slowly beginning to form on his forehead. Then, he finally relaxed his face and stopped moving altogether—to breathe instead. And to think.

Perhaps, he thought as he rushed to inhale and exhale as if he was being pursued by the invisible horrors that he had battled last night and this morning—perhaps the look in your eyes that he’d seen today hadn’t come from a nightmare, after all.

It couldn’t have been Sid who told you. And it wasn’t Taehyung. It wasn’t Luna.

You looked at him like it was him.

“It—it must have—it was—” He inhaled and held his breath for one, two, three seconds. “You’re right. I-I must have told her. It was—I did—I-I told her.”

Taehyung watched as acceptance darkened Jungkook’s already hopeless eyes.

“I was really—I still feel kind of drunk, but I was even more wasted last night,” he continued, staring at the floor. He was breathing so rapidly now that he could have powered every streetlight in this whole city if they ran on oxygen and not electricity. “Maybe I was the one who told her. No one else could have, and it—it should have been me anyway, but I—it was—”

“Okay,” Taehyung said, quickly realising the direness of the situation. He put an arm around the younger boy’s shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down?”

Jungkook hadn’t realised he was standing.

He didn’t feel Taehyung lower him onto his bunk, he didn’t feel the soft mattress underneath, he didn’t feel his friend’s hands around him.

All he felt was an oddly familiar tremor taking over his body—as if he’d already been here, shaking uncontrollably in another life.

Taehyung was aware of the predicament that Jungkook was in. Really, he was. But, honestly, he was proud of him for telling you the truth. He probably shouldn’t have felt this way, considering that telling you about the bet was common sense, but he couldn’t help it.

He was glad that Jungkook had chosen honesty—even though Taehyung hadn’t really given him a different choice, and the truth had made the younger boy nearly transparent as his shoulders hunched under his friend’s touch.

Taehyung wanted to believe that this honesty, despite how much discomfort and pure pain it brought Jungkook, signified growth. And with growth came the decision to choose better friends.

However, telling you about the bet and then forgetting about it? That was bad. Taehyung didn’t want to imagine how bad.

He sighed, releasing one breath in the time that Jungkook released ten.

“Maybe you should talk to her. When you’re a little more put together,” Taehyung suggested, hoping that a clear plan of action would calm Jungkook down.

“She won’t talk to me,” he said, and his breaths grew more ragged.

“Ah.” Taehyung raised his head knowingly. He needed a moment to compose himself before he admitted that he knew this would happen—and that Jungkook deserved this silent treatment just a little bit. “Yes. Well… That—that was to be expected, I would think.”

Despite his words, there was a comforting warmth in Taehyung’s eyes that Jungkook missed because he was too preoccupied with fighting his inner demons. He remembered something else—a sharp tension in his lungs, much like the one he was experiencing right now, as he struggled to contain everything that he was inhaling: revulsion and regret, despair and dread.

He had told you. He couldn’t remember it exactly, but he knew he had.

Jungkook managed to raise his eyes.

“W-what—what do I do?” he asked in between breaths.

Taehyung sucked his lips in. “I have no idea.”

Jungkook groaned as he ran his shaking fingers through his hair and pulled away from the other boy.

“For fuck’s s-sake,” he hissed, then took another unsteady breath. “You could—you could try being more helpful, you know.”

“You could try giving me less attitude, you know,” Taehyung returned. “Considering your position.”

Jungkook scrunched his nose irritably but refrained from arguing. His breathing began to slow as he shifted his focus from regretting the past to fixing the future.

“Fine,” he said. “Sorry. Please help me figure this out.”

There wasn’t much that Taehyung could have helped him with, and they both knew it. What Jungkook really needed was just encouragement that this wasn’t over yet. That he could still do something and hope for a positive outcome.

Taehyung contemplated this for a minute. A part of him honestly thought that this might be over. But as much as he valued honesty, he knew that sometimes it wasn’t the best option.

This was one of those times.

Not to mention, there were two sides to this coin.

The first was that you and Jungkook had known each other for years before you began to work together. Taehyung virtually knew nothing about your relationship prior to Rated Riot. He knew nothing of your history together. Maybe there was potential for resolution, after all.

However, the other side of the coin was this: you had an incredible opportunity to work with one of the biggest rock bands in the world. And even though the vocalist of this band was prone to alcohol, he was not prone to toxic friendships—at least as far as Taehyung knew. Not to mention, you hadn’t dated anyone in Reconnaissance, which had to be a massive plus after all that had just happened here. And so, although you said you would stay with Rated Riot, no one would have blamed you if you left.

Taehyung sighed.

This was a very, very unpleasant situation, to say the least.

“Alright. There’s something you should know,” the older boy finally said. “I don’t know if it’s going to be helpful for you, but, um… sh-she got an offer to work with Reconnaissance.”

Jungkook heard the way all the sounds inside the bus and inside his head and even inside his chest suddenly ceased, leaving only a faint buzzing.

He wasn’t sure what was buzzing. Maybe he hadn’t realised he was screaming.

“Wh—what?” he asked after a loaded minute. “She—what? When?”

“I don’t know,” Taehyung said. “I just found out today.”

“So, she’s—what? She’s leaving?”

“I don’t know.”

Jungkook got up from his bunk and spun around, restless all of a sudden, as he ran his fingers through his hair again, messing it up even more. “Fuck.”

Taehyung gave him a moment to process this.

“What do I do?” Jungkook repeated, his breathing uneven again. Taehyung tensed when he heard the panic return to his friend’s voice. He stood up, but couldn’t reach Jungkook as he paced away from him on the bus. “What the f—what do I say? S-she won’t talk to me. Fuck.”

“Give her some time, then,” Taehyung said—quickly. Because he could tell that Jungkook was approaching a concerning new level of distress. “She just found out about the bet. This must have been quite a shock to her. It was shocking for me, and I have nothing to do with this. So, imagine how she must feel.”

“Okay. But it’s—what if she—”

“She’s not impulsive,” Taehyung cut in, guessing the younger boy’s concern. “She won’t just get up and leave. But if you keep pushing right now while the—” He clicked his tongue, looking for a more sensitive word. “—while the shock is still fresh, then you might end up pushing her towards the wrong decision.”

That sounded reasonable. Painful and terrifying, too, but reasonable, nonetheless.

Jungkook slid his hands down his face and spent a minute inhaling and exhaling in two-second increments. Then he nodded and looked up at the other boy.

“Yeah. Okay,” he decided. His head still felt like he had stolen it from a bronze sculpture—heavy, yet completely empty. But he thought he was gradually getting used to the pain. “You’re right. Okay. So, I should wait, right? Just… wait?”

“That’s what I’d do,” Taehyung said. “Wait.”

And so, waiting was what Jungkook did. For exactly six hours.

By then, everyone had already returned to the bus for the trip to Cologne, and the French bus driver had finished half a pack of cigarettes. You were unaware that it was just you and Jungkook left outside—you were still on the phone with the other roadies—and Jungkook used that to his advantage.

Anticipating your usual excuse of being too busy, he prepared in advance and spoke to the bus driver to find out the scheduled departure time. He learned that he should have enough time to have a proper conversation with you or, at the very least, address some of the drunken confessions that he must have made last night.

He had promised himself to hold off speaking to you in hopes that his mind would clear and he could remember a bit more—anything other than this suffocating misery that still kept him in a relentless chokehold today. But that promise was in vain.

He couldn’t wait.

“I need to talk to you,” Jungkook said as soon as he saw you come out from behind the bus.

Just as he had expected, you shook your head. “Now’s not the right—”

“We still have twenty-five minutes before we leave,” he said.

“It wouldn’t hurt to be ahead of schedule,” you argued, but he refused to move, so you couldn’t reach the bus door. “The equipment team had already left. We have to—”

“Please. Give me five minutes,” he said. “Please.”

As you were beginning to look away from him, your eyes involuntarily lingered on his face for a moment longer, and you felt your heart make the decision for you. You’d give him five minutes.

Really, the ache in your chest was just an excuse, as you realised in a fleeting moment of sober clarity. Your mind didn’t want to walk away from him, either.

He looked hurt—he had no right to look that way, not after what he’d done—but the look in his eyes still cut into your already wounded heart a little more.

You couldn’t remember if he had looked like this last night. All that you could see after he told you about the bet were the dangerous ripples of the ground beneath you and the unyielding darkness surrounding you.

You’d listen to him, you decided. That was all that you could still offer him.

“Fine,” you conceded, realising that you had a weakness, and it was standing right in front of you.

Jungkook inhaled—he’d managed to get his breathing under control in the past few hours—and straightened.

He’d seen this before, he thought. This moment that hadn’t even happened yet already echoed in his mind like a forgotten passage from a book that his grandmother had used to read to him—about heartache and the eventual happily ever after. He was too young for those books, really, he just wanted to be in grandma’s room longer. But he remembered the glistening tears in her eyes as she turned the last few pages, and he, too, found himself rooting for the people in the book.

Surely, then, if this was the painful part of the story—the part where the two characters couldn’t look at each other at the same time—then you had to be approaching the conclusion? The happy ending that he found himself dreaming about for the first time in Paris?

All that was left for the two of you was to resolve it all.

“I was very drunk last night,” he started. “I should have told you the truth before I got drunk, but the way the night unfolded… it didn’t work in my favo—okay, that—that sounds like an excuse. But I want you to know that I had the intention to tell you all along. It wasn’t something that I decided on a whim after I had some drinks.”

“Hmm.” You were staring at your shoes before you pursed your lips and glanced up at him. “And, uh, what about the bet? Was that something you made on a whim?”

Something very unpleasant churned in his stomach. He felt queasy.

“I did,” he admitted. “I was—it was—I thought it would prove a point.”

“Did it?”

“No. All it proved is that I made the wrong choice of caring about what my friends thought of me, when I should have cared about what you thought,” he said. His jaw was clenched, but his face was soft and almost fragile. You looked away again. His words sounded clumsy when you weren’t looking at him, when he didn’t know if you heard him. “I-I’m sorry. I swear I meant it when I said I loved—”

“Look,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t really see the point of this conversation, so maybe—”

“Okay—okay, just—listen,” he said in a hurry, raising both of his hands to the back of his head in a desperate attempt to keep himself together. Reluctantly, you returned your gaze to his. “I-I wanted to say that you can ask me, or say anything to me. I want to talk. Give me a chance to explain.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, though,” you said, and he felt his heart fall and thrash in the cavities of his chest like a frightened, dying fish out of the water.

He tried to remember if this was what you’d said to him last night—this brutal declaration that you’d run out of words—perhaps right after he told you about the bet.

It would have explained why he felt smothered the whole day—as if your decision to talk to him directly influenced his decision to breathe.

“Okay,” he said, swallowing something sharp in his throat. “Well, what about Reconnaissance?”

Your eyes widened for less than a second before you composed yourself. It confirmed to him that everything Taehyung had said was true.

“How did you—?” you began to ask, but Jungkook didn’t let you finish.

“Taehyung told me. You didn’t—you told everyone, but you couldn’t tell me.”

Despite the twinge of guilt in your stomach, you still thought this was an unfair accusation. You hadn’t told everyone. And Jungkook was the last person who could have reprimanded you for keeping a secret.

“This has nothing to do with you,” you said.

“How—” he started, then cut himself off with a scoff. “You’re leaving, and it has nothing to do with me?”

“I’m not—I’m still here, aren’t I?” you countered, changing your mind about making a promise to stay when chaos roamed free in your mind.

Jungkook recognised the hesitation in your eyes. He felt his anger grow at the possibility that you were genuinely considering this.

“Yeah, but for how long?!” he accused. “I thought—I thought we were finally on the same page about everything, and—”

“Oh!” you exclaimed; the single syllable so full of irony that he stopped talking immediately. “On the same page, are we? Okay, then, let me see if I got everything right here.”

There was that fire in your eyes—the one that he had wanted to see.

He felt equal parts terrified—because he couldn’t predict what you’d say next—and hopeful—because you were finally talking to him—as he watched you instead of replying.

“You made a bet with Sid about us,” you said—short and sharp. Jungkook thought he flinched, but he hoped you didn’t notice.

“Yes,” he said. “And I—”

“He said we wouldn’t get back together, and you said we would.”

Jungkook nodded, his throat suddenly too swollen to speak.

“And if you lost,” you continued. “You had to give up your Katana.”

“Mmhm.”

You paused here, frowning. You weren’t sure if you’d forgotten this part or if he hadn’t mentioned it last night.

“And if you won?” you asked.

He felt an unpleasant warmth wash over him at your question.

“I’d, uh—I would have gotten $10,000,” he admitted, his eyes darting between you and the ground. “And, you know. Uh, also you.”

“Ah.” You nodded. “Double win, isn’t it?”

He cringed at the sarcasm.

You continued to watch him with narrowed eyes, but you couldn’t really see him, blind to everything but the raging fury that swirled inside you, pounding on the walls of your chest to get out.

It wasn’t even the bet that you were mostly angry about, not really. You were angry about his choices in general. About his constant need to do whatever his friends told him to. About his utter lack of ability to stand up for himself—and for you.

You were angry that you were back to where you started, back on the doorstep of his dorm room four years ago, when you said you were done, and he did nothing to stop you from leaving.

You were sure you’d had a point you wanted to make when you brought up the bet a few minutes ago, perhaps to counter his attempts to blame you for not telling him about Reconnaissance. But you didn’t want to make any points anymore.

You didn't even want to speak.

“It really sounds fun,” you commented dryly. “Shame you didn’t win.”

“Y-you’re—but I-I don’t care if I win or lose,” he stammered, anguished by your dismissive tone. “That’s why I told you about it. The bet was a mistake. But I can’t turn the fucking time back, even though I really fucking want to. So I’d rather tell you and lose it than win it and lose you. There’s nothing I want more than—I’m—I just want to be honest. And I was honest. Every time I told you how I felt, I meant it.” He inhaled, rushing to get all his words out before he truly lost you—he saw the way you positioned your body away from him as soon as he mentioned honesty. “I was drunk when I told you about the bet, I know. I shouldn’t have been. But I told you, and—”

“See—no,” you cut him off. “You don’t get to feel good about that. You forgot that you told me.”

“I…” his sentence broke off. “I-I did. Okay. That’s true. And I’m sorry. I was really—I was drunk.”

“You’re always fucking drunk.”

You finally turned away as you groaned and allowed the wind to tangle your hair around the hood of your jacket.

You were exhausted of these same old excuses: either he was drunk, or he was with his friends. Sometimes both.

You thought you’d walked away from all of this four years ago. How had you ended up back in the exact same place? Why did you think it would be different this time?

Sid was still here. And his endless games were still here, too.

“Oh.” You remembered suddenly and turned back around. “Was this what the Paris trip was about? When we went to Kihyun and Chloé’s wedding? Is that why Sid didn’t want me to go with you?”

Jungkook closed his eyes. “It’s, uh… yes. It’s sort of what started the, um—the whole thing. But it wasn’t—I actually wanted to go there with you, it wasn’t—”

You hummed, cutting him off—as if you were a teacher, giving him a test, and he was a student, answering every question correctly, but letting you down every time he opened his mouth anyway.

You didn’t say anything else.

Jungkook thought he was going to burst into flames.

He could tell that you didn’t want to listen to him when he said he loved you. In fact, you made a conscious decision not to hear him.

He was horrified to realise that these past few weeks and all the conversations, all the unsaid words that you finally said, all the closure that you’d welcomed after years of evading it—all of it had evaporated after last night.

You refused to remember these moments, refused to believe that they were real.

He wasn’t just back to where he started when this tour began—back when you wouldn’t accept his confessions. When you tried to explain his feelings for you using the circumstances: a different continent, too many forgotten memories, too much time spent together. And you were right, in part, to have your doubts. He really hadn’t told you everything. But everything that he had told you, he’d meant it.

But now he was much farther back—at the very last row, merely observing your silhouette as you climbed on stage and introduced yourself in a cold, detached voice. Like he didn’t know you. Like he hadn’t spent the past seven years loving you.

One bet. One fucking bet.

And now he was scared that there was nothing else left.

Gripping the stitching on the sides of his dark grey jeans, Jungkook said one more time, “I’m sorry.”

You were looking down as you repeatedly nodded your head—each nod a new dagger in his chest.

“Thank you for that,” you said, letting the sentence falter.

It was clear that you’d meant what you said—you had nothing else to say. He would have liked to hear anything, really, except for the silence that followed.

“W-what can I do?” he asked, afraid that the conversation—that all of your conversations— had come to an end.

You frowned—all of your conversations had come to an end.

“What do you mean?” you asked almost incredulously.

“Well, you’re clearly mad, and—”

“No,” you said. “I briefly flew over mad last night when you pulled me out of the bus at six-thirty in the morning. Now I’m back to normal.”

Biting his lip ring and pulling it into his mouth, Jungkook stayed quiet for a few seconds.

He had expected this to be awful, meaning you’d be angry.

He hadn’t expected this to be worse than awful; meaning you’d stand here, looking at him with a straight face and hollow eyes, almost daring him to apologise again.

Now it’s finally too late, your posture was saying. You fucked up one too many times.

You truly weren’t mad, he realised.

You’d given up.

“And w-what—what is ‘normal,’ exactly?” he asked finally, even though he feared the answer.

You hammered the final nail into the coffin that he’d built himself.

“I’m your manager,” you said. What a great eulogy. “You should get back on the bus. We’re leaving soon.”

He knew he needed to apologise again, but nothing he said seemed to make a difference. You weren’t hearing him—and, honestly, he understood why.

But a part of him still felt frustrated. You had kept something from him, too. There was a risk you’d leave—forever—and he needed conditions; something he could do to make this right. To make you stay.

It was a stupid bet. He never should have made it. It was bad, but in comparison to his feelings for you—and yours for him, before he ruined everything—he didn’t think it was significant enough to make you consider leaving your job.

“You’re right,” he said. “You’re my manager. And you can’t—you can’t leave the band.”

The determination in his tone made you pause.

“I can’t?” you repeated, your eyebrows drawn together in a defiant frown. “And who would stop me if I said I was leaving?”

Fuck, Jungkook thought in a sudden panic. That was not what he should have said. Now you might really leave.

Taehyung had warned him that he might push you towards the wrong decision. And he was doing exactly that.

“You—you know what I mean...” he faltered, discouraged by your resistance. “I-I fucked up, I know that. Tell me how to fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix,” you said. “Get on the bus.”

He stood still. “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”

“It’s going to be like it always was,” you said. “Get on the fucking bus, Jungkook.”

He didn’t. You were so close to him now that he could smell your perfume and the apple scent of your shampoo. He remembered himself years ago, hoping that one day, apples would stop reminding him of you.

Now he knew how outrageously absurd it was to hope for this when he was convinced that all versions of him—across all universes—always immediately thought of you whenever they tasted apples.

“Don’t—you can’t start treating me like everything that happened between us didn’t happen,” he retorted—with all the anger that he had at the thought of never having you this close to him again.

“What happened, exactly?” you snapped. “You’ve clearly never bothered to be honest with me for one second until last night, never bothered to even think about me, because you—”

“I thought about you all the time, though!”

“Yeah, because you had no other fucking choice!” you rebutted. “If you didn’t think of me, you would have lost the bet. None of it was genuine—”

“I lost the bet because I was thinking of you,” he defended, furiously waving his hands around.

“Oh! That’s so considerate!” Your laughter was rigid and bitter. “Maybe it’s me who should apologise. I’m so sorry I ended up being the reason why you lost the bet.”

He dropped his hands, groaning. Once again, he realised how terrible he was at telling the truth, and how splendid at saying all the wrong things.

“Don’t—don’t be like that,” he asked, agitated.

You glared at him. “Like what?”

“Just—difficult.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” you said. “I’ll make this very simple for you: we’re done talking about your shit.” You pulled back from him to turn around. “Get on the fucking bus. I have more important things to do.”

Immediately, Jungkook grabbed both of your hands to stop you from leaving.

You turned back to him with wide eyes, and your stunned stiffness gave him enough time to properly wrap his fingers around your wrists.

“Is that your plan, then?” he demanded. His hands were cold, but his grip was loose enough for you to push him away—but the challenge in his question made you wait, frozen in place. “You’re just going to walk away again? Start working with a different band so you won’t have to think about your feelings? Won’t have to face your fears of trying again? That’s your solution for everything, isn’t it? Just fucking walking away.”

He'd touched something—there was a raw wildfire in your eyes now, nothing like the flames he’d seen before.

You yanked your hand out of his grip and took a step back.

“You know what?” you said. “It is. It is my solution to everything. And you want to know something else? This bet isn’t even the worst thing. And that’s the worst thing—the fact that this is just another bullet point in an endless list of shit that you and your friends have done. So, yes. I am walking away. I should have never even come back in the first place.”

Jungkook felt the ground beneath his feet tremble unsteadily at your words—much like his hands by his sides.

Back in Amsterdam, you’d told him that you forgave him for not realising how many mistakes he’d made in your relationship. He’d seen a glimpse of a second chance that night in your hotel room.

He was aware of his never-ending list of mistakes now. And still, he made new ones.

“I’m—I’m sorry, I—”

“Get on the bus,” you said, turning around to face the empty parking lot instead of his apologetic face. “I still need to call the other drivers and check in with the rest of the crew.”

You were doing your job. You were still talking to him. He should have been glad.

Instead, he couldn’t force his legs to move or his heart to keep beating.

“I… Can—can you just—just tell me that you’ll stay with the band,” he pleaded.

Your shoulders were straight as you stood with your back to him, your hands clenched into distraught fists by your sides. He’d once jokingly tried to teach you the proper stance in a fight. Really, it was you who should have done the teaching.

“Get on the bus,” you repeated.

His distress was relentless. “I will. But we have to talk about—”

“We don’t have to do anything,” you argued. “I think it’s better if we stop having conversations unrelated to Rated Riot altogether, if that’s alright with you.”

He watched your back with unwavering determination. “It’s not.”

“Tough. Get in.”

He needed a minute to convince himself to quit arguing, to drain the fight out of his chest. Then another minute to steady his breathing enough to turn towards the bus.

As he approached the door, he looked back at you and caught the way you had glanced at him over your shoulder. There was a dampness in your eyes from the heavy wind. He saw it right before you turned away again.

He swayed lightly on the steps of the bus. “Please, just—”

“Don’t,” you said, and your shaky voice turned the word into a warning rather than an order. “Just get in. We’re done talking.”

With your back still turned to the bus, you heard Jungkook climb the steps, seemingly hesitate once more, and then finally walk inside. The automatic door slammed shut behind him with a dull thud that was almost as loud as the defeated beats of your heart in your chest.

Alone in the parking lot, you finally exhaled all that you’d kept inside and then some. You wanted your lungs to feel as empty as your chest.

For just a minute, you couldn’t be Rated Riot’s manager.

For just a minute, you needed to be yourself and by yourself as you squatted, hugging your knees to your chest.

Your laboured breaths made you rock on your feet slightly as your chest rose and fell at an increasing pace, but you resisted the throbbing hurt inside—you couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t.

In a minute, you’d have to check on the band and make sure all of them were on the bus before leaving for Cologne.

In a minute, you’d have to face Jungkook again and talk to him as if nothing had happened.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

The bet was hurtful. But what hurt even more was your own choice to let it all escalate to the point where losing it all again hurt. Still wanting him, even now, hurt. His unchanging priorities—his friends first, everyone else second—hurt.

You didn’t want to talk to him as if nothing had happened. But you had to.

Maybe it was for the better. The bet was a cold shower, jolting you awake and reminding you that trying again never worked.

And really, perhaps you should have seen this coming. You knew that this was just another one of Sid’s games that Jungkook had willingly participated in. Truly, this was nothing new in your experience and hardly different from Sid dropping Jungkook off at the grimiest bar in town and sending you on a scavenger hunt to find him—night, after night, after night.

You stood up with a sharp inhale.

You’d had enough.

If Jungkook wanted to continue playing, he could do it by himself. You refused to be a part of it again.

However, ending things with Jungkook and ensuring that he didn’t win this bet didn’t feel like your win, either.

It felt like you both lost.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “the fountain”

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