#unfortunately it appears there is no happy ending for this pair

[dairine-bonnet]

Their story is hardly a fairy tale.

They're not ordinary people and they have no chance of making their own fairy tale... at least, of the one with a happy ending.

Some Malak's thoughts on his relationship with Revan before the Mandalorian Wars from a short (i do hope so) fic I'm trying to write. A kind of a prediction if you like...

[zaldritzosrose]

Only Ever Yours (Aegon x Wife!Reader)

Summary: Aegon saw marriage as a duty, a weight to bear and nothing more. You were a good wife; he would never fault you that. But he refused to believe he felt nothing more for you. Unfortunately for him, his uncle knew better. Daemon was going to get him to admit it, one way or another.

TW: MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), fingering, Daemon thinking he's helping, flirting, innuendo, profanity.

Words: 4319

Thank you to @legitalicat for betaing this! 💚

Also, there is some vague references to this being within the Dance timeline but nothing concrete so imagine it as you will!

And please thank my dearest Nonnie for the request! Enjoy!

Name days were always a grand affair for the royal family and having Jacaerys turn six and ten – that was the grandest they had hosted in a while. You sat beside your husband, Aegon, between him and his uncle Daemon. Lords and ladies from all over the realm had come to celebrate the young prince’s coming of age and there was nothing short of revelry to be had.

Aegon was preoccupied with his wine, even large events like this where appearances were everything did not stem his dependency on his cups. Though you could not blame him, listening to lord after lord drivel on about something or another would likely drive you down the same path if you had a liking for wine.

What you did wish to do, however, was dance. The minstrels played nothing but upbeat songs to please the celebrated prince and the dance floor was already filling. You turned to Aegon; a hand placed on his arm to get his attention.

“Could we dance, husband?” you asked softly, the slightest sound of hope in your tone.

But what you got was a shake of his head, nothing more.

Aegon had never been unkind to you, but he had always seemed disenchanted with your marriage. Uninterested in anything more than his duty. He kept his eyes trained on his cup before him, not noticing the look of disappointment on your face. The flush of rejection on your cheeks as you turned away from him and picked at the food on your plate.

But Daemon noticed.

He noticed the glisten of tears in your eyes, the slight tremble of your lower lip as you tried to keep yourself calm. And he felt a pang of sympathy. You had been offered as a politically advantageous marriage for Aegon. Binding your house and the Targaryens solely for power. And it seemed his nephew had yet to look past his duty to the woman beneath it.

“My lady?” Daemon touched your arm gently, bringing your attention over to your uncle by marriage now.

“My prince,” you hurried to wipe your eyes, trying your best to hide your emotions.

Daemon only offered you a smile, glancing around you and seeing Aegon glancing over to the pair of you.

“A lady as pretty as you should have no need to cry, nor be left alone with no dance partner,” Daemon said softly, nudging your arm and coaxing a smile to your lips.

“It is alright, my prince, really. I am more than content to…”

Daemon interrupted you with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“No, my sweet lady, you need to be more than content.” Daemon stood, offering his hand to you with a smirk.

With a final glance to Aegon, who was doing nothing but glaring into the cup before him, you accepted.

“Quite the saviour you are, my prince,” you giggled, as Daemon led you down the steps and to the dance floor below.

The music had turned upbeat, and Daemon was quick to put you both into position. He led you with a smile, putting all his effort to spinning you about the dance floor and bringing smiles and laughter to your lips.

Aegon watched. At first, he told himself he did not care. You wanted to dance, and you were dancing. You were happy and he did not have to involve himself. But when the song ended and Daemon did not let you go, he began to watch more closely.

The next song was slower and when you did not pull away from his uncle, Aegon sat up a little straighter and followed your every move. The closeness between your and Daemon’s bodies, how you blushed a little when Daemon leaned down to whisper something in your ear.

Aegon’s jaw tightened, but he tried to will away the emotions stirring within. Jealousy. You were his wife; you should be at his side. But he knew, deep down, that was not what bothered him. It was the joy on your face. Joy that was not caused by him.

The second song ended, and Daemon leaned down a little, pressing a kiss to your hand.

“Thank you for the dance, my sweet lady,” he smirked, offering you a wink that brought out yet another giggle.

Aegon could not hear what he said, but he could see the smile, the movement of your shoulders that told him you were giggling, the flush on your cheeks from the dance and dare he say…from Daemon. He should not feel jealous, you were his duty, a marriage he had never asked for.

So why did he feel it? Why did his stomach feel twisted and his blood feel like it was boiling in his veins? The scrape of his chair could be heard over the music as Aegon descended the steps and stormed his way through the crowd to you and Daemon.

“Aegon?” you asked, but Aegon’s focus was solely on Daemon.

But his uncle only smiled, inclining his head and retreating into the crowd. His smile never left him, even after his back turned on the young couple.

What neither knew, was Daemon had watched them, since the day they had been betrothed. You had done everything to try and enamour yourself to Aegon, to try and present yourself as a good prospect. But Aegon had simply tolerated your presence. Acted politely from his mother’s instructions, courted you. Took you on walks around the gardens, introduced to his dragon even.

But he never seemed to enjoy it. It was as though marriage was simply a burden. Daemon watched you retreat into yourself, watched you stop vying quite so hard for Aegon’s attentions. He watched as your usual happy demeanour seemed to waver.

It only became more obvious when you were married. The kiss shared between the pair of you in the Sept was tense and since then, nothing had improved.

So, Daemon had took it upon himself to fix it. To see you, someone who had been dragged into this family through no choice of her own, to a husband who did not want her. He knew the one way to make Aegon see, was to force him to admit how he felt for you.

And tonight was only the beginning.

The name day feast gnawed at Aegon’s mind, only a week had passed. Jealousy meant nothing, surely. It could not possibly mean he felt anything deep for you. No, he told himself. It could not possibly be true.

Aegon was sat by the window, having just finished his breakfast when he heard you enter. It was rare for the two of you to spend the mornings together, Aegon preferring lazier mornings whereas you always took breakfast with his mother and sister.

“Good morning, husband,” you said softly, slipping into the seat across from him.

Aegon gave you a tight smile, watching as you poured yourself a cup from the tea from the pot he had yet to touch. He was curious, however, as to why you were here.

“There is a family dinner tonight.” You said gently, sipping from your tea.

Now it made sense, there were few reasons you would willingly seek him out, he knew that without a doubt. Though even thinking that, made Aegon feel a pang of guilt he did not expect.

“And I assume my attendance is expected?”

The look you gave him was enough. He nodded. A family dinner meant all of the family would be in attendance. And he was not prepared to receive a telling off from his mother if he avoided it.

The rest of the morning was spent in silence, until you were called away for a walk with Helaena.

Aegon met you outside your chambers in time to walk to dinner, his face already showing he wished to be anywhere else. You did feel a little bad for him, now he was married most talk seemed to focus on that. Whether it was questions directed at you on your expected motherhood, or at Aegon at the need to ‘perform his duty’. You would sometimes wish you could tell him you would avoid dinner with him.

But you were not even sure he would want to avoid it with you.

He held his arm out to you, barely glancing at you as you took it and began to walk in step with him. It was not until you reached the dining hall that he even spared you a look. The deep green and black of your dress was not what he expected. Aegon sometimes wore Targaryen blacks or Hightower green depending on his mood. To see you wearing both stirred something within him he did not expect.

He led you down the dining table and to your seats, passing Daemon as you went. The smile the elder prince gave you did not go unnoticed.

“My lady, you truly are a sight to behold,” Daemon purred out to you as you passed and Aegon did not miss the faint flush in your cheeks.

“You flatter me, my prince,” you replied, your voice soft and breathy. You did not immediately notice how Aegon tensed at your side.

Aegon hurried you on, his other arm reaching round and letting his hand grip your arm. His jaw was set tight, and his eyes now solely focused on making it down to his seat. He was now practically dragging you along behind him. The moment he sat, he pulled the jug of wine towards him, taking a long drink as you looked at him in confusion.

Daemon however, smirked into his cup. It would not be long before Aegon would have to admit he felt something for you. And dinner tonight was simply another stone on that path.

Dinner passed on with little consequence. Conversation flowed on all sides of the table, and when dessert was served Daemon saw your eyes light up. He was close enough to your seat to lean over to talk.

“Do you have a sweet tooth, my lady?” Daemon asked, that mischievous smile back on his lips.

You laughed a little before answering.

“It is a weakness; I am ashamed to admit. My mother would have the desserts and sweets put on the highest shelves of our kitchens…” you realised you were rambling and stopped.

Daemon realised then that Aegon may never have even asked you about yourself. Was his nephew so apathetic to this marriage that he did not bother to know his own wife?

His thoughts were interrupted by a tray of sweet and honeyed cakes being placed between you. He soon saw your eyes flick down and your tongue dart out ever so slightly in anticipation. You were about to reach out when Daemon lifted a cake and offered it to you.

“A sweet cake, almost as sweet as you, my lady.”

The giggle you let out had Aegon turning his head to look at you. He realised he could not remember one moment he had made you laugh anywhere close to that. And that feeling in the pit of his stomach returned.

A sickening mix of guilt, anger and jealousy.

You had not expected the feast thrown for your own name day to be quite as lavish as Prince Jacaerys, but your mother-in-law Alicent had near demanded you be celebrated the same way the royal children were. You knew there was animosity between the two families, but you had luckily avoided the brunt of it.

There was a sense of déjà vu as you sat at the top table, Aegon at your right as you looked down to the crowd of nobles, including your family, that had come to celebrate you. The only group you waited on now was Daemon, Rhaenyra and the Princes. And when the doors opened to reveal them, Aegon could not stop the swell of anger inside him as your face lit up to the sight of Daemon.

Had he been so neglectful of you that the attention his uncle gave you was that important? Or worse, did you feel something for Daemon?

Aegon school his face to a cool look of indifference as each of them approached and gave their good wishes. Daemon, however, beckoned you down to him with a grin.

“I know you said you wished for nothing when Rhaenyra asked, but you deserve to be well treated,” he whispered, pulling a small velvet covered box from behind his back.

Your eyes went wide at the sight, even wider when it was opened. An intricate necklace, weaving your house sigil with that of House Targaryen, and little green gemstones for House Hightower. The three Houses you now belonged to.

“It is beautiful,” you sighed, tracing your fingers over the designs of the necklace.

Daemon gestured for you to turn, and you even moved your hair so he could place the necklace around your throat. The metal was cool against your already flushed skin. If you had looked up, you would have seen Aegon’s reddened cheeks and tight smile as he glared down at the both of you. Though you would not have understood his anger in its entirety. Why he found the way Daemon’s hands brushed at your neck as he clasped the necklace around. Why he found the gift itself an insult.

It was not known to many, but before their family drifted apart, Aegon and Daemon would frequent the same brothels. There was a chance they had even fucked the same whores. But there was one difference. Aegon would pay those he fucked in gold, Daemon however, would pay them a different way. He would bring presents for those he favoured, trinkets essentially. Not that he thought Daemon believed you a whore, but the implication and memory made him sick.

He could have move past it, ignored the twisted feeling in his gut. But when you raced back to him, a wide smile on your face and your hands still clutching the necklace, Aegon was ready to snap.

“Husband! Your uncle Daemon is so generous, is he not?” You almost squealed in excitement.

You were at his side, giving him no choice but to see the jewels that now hung around your neck. And he did not even both to force a smile to his lips.

“Oh yes, he is quite generous.” Aegon snapped back at you, no longer hiding his disdain.

Your eyes narrowed, you had seen Aegon upset before, but never like this.

“Is there a problem, husband?” You asked, your eyes stinging with tears of anger now.

But Aegon said nothing, gripping your arm and dragging you away from your own name day feast. He wove you through the crowds, ignoring the questions from his family as you passed them.

“What are you doing! Let go!” you tried to tug your arm from his grasp, but he ignored you.

Aegon was silent as he dragged you back to his chambers, Slamming the door behind him and rounding on you. But you spoke first.

“Aegon, what is wrong with you?” you were close to shouting, Aegon realised he had never heard you raise your voice.

“Wrong! What is wrong?” Aegon slammed his hand to the small table beside him, the wine cups and jug shaking with the impact.

“Daemon is what is wrong! Do you think I enjoy watching him fawn over you and…and watch you enjoy it!?”

So that was what it was all about. Aegon refused to show you care and attention as his wife, but gods forbid someone else dared to?

“Are you serious, Aegon? This is all because you are jealous?”

You did not know when you had closed the distance between the two of you, or when your hand had slapped against his chest. But the warmth of Aegon’s hand around your wrist brought you back to reality.

“Are you jealous?” your voice had gone softer, changing your tack to see if you could get through to him.

Aegon shoved you back, not looking as you stumbled a little over the hem of your gown. You could see the heave of his shoulders as he tried to calm himself. He did not know if he wanted to cry or scream. He hated how he felt. He hated being married, he hated…just all of it.

“Jealous? I would have to love you to feel jealous, would I not?” The words left him before he could control them.

Any anger you felt almost dissipated. You had never pretended to think your husband loved you, political marriages rarely went that way. But to hear it come directly from him?

It broke your heart.

“You are a cruel man, husband…”

Aegon could hear the pain in your voice, the heartbreak. And the wave of guilt that washed over him made him want to reach out, apologise. But he was sure you would reject him.

“Do you think I enjoy Daemon’s attentions because I desire him, is that it?”

He could feel you behind him, the soft scent of your perfume wafting towards him as you moved. Your hands on his back making him want to pull away. Aegon could not bring himself to answer with words, his breath leaving him in frustrated huffs.

“Because you are wrong.”

Aegon could feel his frustration simmering. His mind spinning as he tried to understand what he felt. Hearing you say you held no desire for Daemon should not make his lips almost curl to a smile. He felt…relieved to hear you say it. But when he did not speak, you continued.

“Do you wish for the truth, husband?”

Your hands shoved at his back, trying in vain to get him to look at you. Your frustration, desperation and pain fighting inside you. But he still refused to speak.

“The truth is the attention I want is yours.”

It was all you wanted. To have your husband look at you with even a sliver of affection. For there to be more in his eyes than contempt or boredom whenever you spent time with him. For him to want you as you wanted him.

Daemon’s attentions had only reminded you of how you should feel. Of how being wanted felt. How your heart should beat a little faster in their presence, how your stomach should flutter and your cheeks flush when they showed you any attention.

Everything you wanted from Aegon but had yet to receive.

But Aegon was barely listening. His own mind reeled, processing everything he felt towards you. Jealousy meant he cared, and the thought felt foreign in his mind. Because if he cared, if seeing another pay you any mind bothered him as much as it was, then he must feel something for you.

And to hear you say you wanted his attention; it sent a surge of something he did not expect. Love? Desire? Either way, it was new.

“Will you not even look at me now?” you asked, your hands still on his back, gentle as if taming a wild animal.

Aegon turned slowly, his eyes downcast. He took a few calming breaths before looking up at you. His eyes falling to the necklace. And you did not miss how his jaw clenched at the sight of it.

“Do you really like it that much?” he asked quietly, his finger reaching out to trace the silver chain.

He tried to ignore how your breath hitched a little when his fingers touch your skin instead of the necklace. He tried to ignore how soft your skin felt beneath his hand.

“Tis a gift, it would be rude to not wear it,” you said, watching how his eyes followed his finger as it traced higher, reaching the curve of your neck.

“Maybe…my husband could replace it with something of his own choosing?”

Aegon concentrated on the feel of you. How his heart raced a little as he felt your own pulse beneath his hand. His hand continued up, curling around the back of your neck and letting his thumb circle of your skin.

He had never been this close to you without the intent of performing his marital duties. Aegon had never willingly pursued any kind of physical intimacy with you outside of that. But he could not ignore how it made him feel.

“Would you like that, wife?” Aegon whispered, feeling the soft hairs at the nape of your neck.

You nodded, Aegon’s proximity was a lot to process. The slight roughness of his palm, the heat of his breath as he spoke, the smell of the wine on him. It was almost too much for you to handle.

Aegon could feel the flush of heat in your skin. The quickening of your pulse. His mind clouded now with the smell of your perfume and the softness of your skin. He could feel the desire trickling down his spine, through his veins and into his thickening length. He barely remembered if he had ever felt such need from simply touching you.

Your own hands tightened in the fabric of his tunic, instinctually pulling him closer. The tension between the two of you was thick.

There was barely an inch between you now. Aegon’s hand gripped the back of your neck, his nose brushing yours.

“Kiss me, Aegon…please…”

He did not hesitate, finally giving into the feelings he had tried to ignore. His kiss bruising and desperate, his free hand wrapping around your waist and crushing you to his chest. You were just as filled with need as he was, your own hands gripping the fabric of his tunic tight while trying to push the fabric from his body.

Aegon walked you back to the bed, only stopping when your knees hit the footboard. You fell back with a soft bounce, leaning up on your elbows to watch your husband with lust clouded eyes. You could see the movement of his throat as he swallowed thick, your gaze travelling down to where he unbuttoned his tunic and the now prominent arousal sitting heavy in his breeches.

“I have been a fool, wife…a fool to think I felt nothing for you.” Aegon grunted out the words, his eyes trailing over your body as he spoke.

His skin felt hot, whatever blood was in his veins had run down and now pulsed through his cock. Only now did he really look at you. See you for just how beautiful you were.

The words Daemon had spoken way back at dinner rung in his head. But he realised just now how true they were.

“You truly are a sight to behold,”

He could see the flush reach your skin, your chest heaving now at his words. Aegon tugged his tunic from his body, pulling his undershirt over his head with little ceremony. Your own hands unlaced your gown, sighing out as the corset lessened its strain on your body. Your hands were soon replaced by Aegon’s, standing you up and making quick work of the rest of your gown. His hands more gentle than they had ever been, with only the thin silk of your shift between him and your bare form.

With a soft touch, he had you back on the bed. Surprising you as he knelt between your thighs. He had never, in all the time you had been married to him, pleasured you in such a way. His focus had always solely been on duty and nothing more.

But the hunger that darkened his eyes had your heart racing and your core pulsing. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing your shift higher until your cunt was bared to him. Aegon felt his mouth water, the realisation that his own stupidity had denied you both such pleasures momentarily passing through him.

“Please, husband…” You pleaded, your hips lifting slightly in a desperate need to feel his touch.

And he wasted no more time. He could deal with his deeper feelings after, right now he wished only to hear you moan for him. His lips planted heated kisses to your inner thighs, trailing a path up one side and down to the other. But never quite where you wanted him.

“Aegon…!”

You could feel his smirk as your frustrated sigh turned to a breathy moan. His hands tightening around your thighs as he buried his face as far as he could get. His tongue tasting every inch of you and groaning at the flavour that coated it.

His eyes flickered up to watch you, your skin hot and flushed. Your hips grinding down onto his face as your moans reached a fever pitch. Aegon wanted nothing more than to commit those sounds to memory. To never forget just how sweet you tasted. You had never felt a pleasure like it, had never felt your husband lust for you as desperately as he did now.

“Mhmm,” your eyes rolled as you felt his groan reverberate through you.

“Almost as sweet as a honey cake, my love…” Aegon whispered into you, adding a single finger along with his tongue.

He could feel your peak approaching, your moans higher and higher in pitch. His own grunts of pleasure vibrating your body as the tight band within finally snapped. Aegon refused to stop as your slick coated his lips and chin, pushing you almost to the brink of overstimulation.

But he had one more thing he needed to ask you. He needed to know you felt as he did. That you felt the same emotions he had forced himself to bury for so long.

“Are you mine? Please…let me hear you say it…”

Your hands tightened in his silver waves as you rolled your hips against him, his tongue lapping lazily now at your cunt. Your heart and body filled with a heady mix of love and desire. The same emotions you now saw in your husband’s eyes.

“Only ever yours…”

Aegon/HOTD Taglist:

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @khaleesihel @legitalicat

@thenameswinter99 @anjelicawrites @sihtricsafin @arcielee

@sylasthegrim @aemondsbabe @itbmojojoejo @multyfangirl

@kaelatargaryen

If I have missed anyone, please let me know. If you wanted to be added to Aegon specific or general HOTD, also let me know!

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

bioluminescence | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season one — you thought all bellamy blake wanted was sex and other women, but when you sneak outside of the camp walls at night, bioluminescent plants are not the only shocking discovery you make, and not everyone is happy about it.

warnings: fluff, swearing, jealousy, mention of sexual themes, (L/N) use, roma

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

word count: 4.1k

Sleep was a rare luxury after you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to Earth, especially since you were all crowded in a small camp surrounding the drop ship. Teenage hormones, anger, violence, and trauma were not a great combination for peace. So, it was either crying, fistfights, or the incessant moans of couples who couldn't keep it in their pants for more than five minutes that usually kept you awake at night.

You were certain it was Bellamy Blake and his two model-looking female companions who were often to blame for that last subject. Although to everyone in the camp, it was very obvious that their relationship was solely physical, neither Roma nor Bree seemed to appreciate when other women talked, interacted with, or even sat near him. Clarke was a heavy target because of her co-leadership with Bellamy. And so were you.

You were within the inner circle, the informal 'Earth council'. You were also handy with a rifle and knowledgeable in tracking, so it wasn't exactly surprising whenever Bellamy took you with him on various missions and hunts. Sometimes though, he would bring you with him even if the task wasn't within your skillset—those were the times you were left feeling a little confused.

Nevertheless, a small friendship sprung from it. You weren't best buddies, but you weren't opposed to each other's company either. That was a big no-no to Roma and Bree and they frequently expressed that fact through passive-aggressive tactics.

This night was no different from others. Thankfully, it was the never-ending fistfights that kept you awake instead of other's carnal endeavours. You opened the flap of your tent and stepped out into the crisp air; autumn was definitely approaching. Hugging your jacket closer to your body, you looked around the camp, unsure of where to wait out the commotion. Everywhere was taken, so you decided a brief walk in the woods wouldn't hurt. Well, you hoped it wouldn't. At least if the Grounders killed you, you would finally get some undisturbed rest.

As you made your way over to one of the fence-wall openings, you ran smack-bang into a barely dressed girl with long brown hair. Roma.

"Watch where you're going, bitch," she spat, scrutinising your appearance from top to bottom.

Ignoring her lovely remark, you eyed her jeans and the way her upper half was only covered by a grey sports bra. "Aren't you cold?"

"Not now I'm not." She smirked, eyes flickering to Bellamy's tent.

You grimaced. I so didn't need to know that.

Right on cue, Bellamy emerged from his tent, fully clothed. He scanned the surroundings before his hardened gaze briefly landed on Roma and then settled on you; it was impossible to miss the way his face softened when your eyes met. Strange.

"Jealous?" she asked, regaining your attention.

"Unlikely."

You brushed past her, though she made an effort to forcefully knock your shoulder and spit another curse at you. Classy.

Bellamy took a step toward you. "Hey—"

But you simply moved past him, continuing toward the wall and saying, "A real gem you've got yourself there."

At least Bree was all bark and no bite.

You could hear him sigh as the distance between you both grew.

Truth be told, you were a little jealous. An unfortunate truth but still a truth all the same. You knew you were beginning to feel something deeper for Bellamy and it was becoming difficult listening to other girls brag about their nights with him. Not like you would ever tell him though—he wasn't a relationship type of guy and as far as you could tell, his feelings for you were platonic.

Never mind. You could settle for his friendship... for now.

You had made it outside the camp walls. At first, you planned on circling the fence for a while, but when your eyes caught on something glowing from the opposite side of a tree, you strayed from your path. Rounding the tree's trunk, you found a glowing neon-pink flower; the species of which you were unsure, but it was beautiful. Then, in your peripheral vision, there was something else lighting up your vision, something blue this time. There was another flower just a few trees away.

And again, you walked over to the strange plant, only to find yourself now on a journey that kept leading to more and more glowing flowers the deeper into the woods you trekked. They were almost everywhere and at this point, you were practically running with an excited grin on your face. In the near distance, numerous radiant colours lit up an area covered by a thick cluster of trees. You wove yourself through branches and leaves, pushing your way into the bright section of the woods.

Once you emerged from the trees, amazement morphed into your expression. You had stepped into a small meadow filled with glowing flowers of various colours that covered the forest floor. There were countless species, but they all shared the same mesmerising radiance. Much to your disbelief, there were even electric blue luminous butterflies that concealed the tree trunks and fluttered in the air.

"Bioluminescence," you whispered to yourself.

It was so beautiful, you could have cried.

Maybe you should just leave the camp and build a hut here. It would certainly beat living with the others.

As you moved further into the small clearing, the butterflies flew closer around you. Holding out an arm, one butterfly tentatively circled your hand before landing in your palm. You laughed in amazement, watching as the small creature curiously crawled across your hand and ticked your skin. Okay, that settled it—you were definitely a Disney princess.

The sound of branches snapping and leaves rustling suddenly pulled you from your amazement; it was coming from where you had entered the clearing. You reached down to your belt only to find the knife holster on it empty. Of course, you didn't bring your knife. You had left the camp's safety and didn't even think to bring a weapon. So stupid.

Before you could reprimand yourself any further, a tall figure emerged from the tree line. The tight dark blue shirt was an easy identifier as to who the figure was. And so were those deep brown eyes.

It was Bellamy. "Woah."

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling your tensed body relax again.

His gaze swept across the vivid tree-encompassed meadow, sharing the same wonderous expression you once had. The overpowering glow from the butterflies turned his tanned skin a light blue, defining the contours of his face and arm muscles. He sort of looked otherworldly.

"What are you doing out here?" you asked.

The incident before you left camp quickly returned to mind and it was evident in the slight irritation etched on your face. He didn't need to respond for you to realise that he had followed you. Great. His little girlfriends were going to have a field day tomorrow if they saw him come after you.

Bellamy's eyes found yours, taking note of your negative reaction. His steps were cautious as he began walking towards you. "I could ask you the same thing."

He stopped in front of you, peering down through a few stray strands of dark brown hair whilst wearing his infamous lazy smirk. No wonder girls were always fawning over him; he was gorgeous, and he damn well knew it too. Even you were falling into the very same trap. Unlike them, though, it was the moments you shared with him when you were alone that conjured your attraction to him. Sure, he was easy on the eyes, but you had also learnt that he was surprisingly a decent human being. More than decent actually, despite how he presented himself to others.

He treated you with respect—a lot more than many others had ever done. You had learnt to trust each other, communicate effectively, and work as a team. Sometimes, you would even find yourselves discussing things that you both intended to keep within till the day you died, things that felt too intimate to share with anyone else.

No matter how much you hated it, you couldn't help but develop feelings for him. Even when it seemed he was preoccupied with other women.

Bellamy eyed you, waiting for the snarky retort he knew you were putting together.

You sighed and turned around, crouching on the floor to inspect one of the neon-pink flowers. "Shouldn't you be teaching Roma and Bree gun handling safety in your tent right now?"

That line was dangerously close to sounding like jealousy and you knew it. You bit your tongue because Lord knows you were most likely to expose your feelings for Bellamy through word vomit.

If only you had been facing him to witness the shame washing through his eyes.

"Funny," he said. "But no. I've got more important things to do."

"Like what? Making sure your best hunting partner doesn't get killed by glowing plants?" you joked, glancing over your shoulder to see his reaction.

It wasn't a grin or smirk like you expected. Not even a little chuckle. Instead, he simply stared at you with this intense look in his eye; it was almost sad but also like he was trying to communicate something to you telepathically.

"Something like that," he murmured.

After those words left his mouth, something about the atmosphere shifted. You suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotion and his soul-piercing stare was not helping. There wasn't a wide selection of movies on the Ark, but you had watched them all, including all the romance movies. The only thing you could compare Bellamy's gaze to was Mr. Darcy's in Pride and Prejudice. Reluctance. Longing. It was all there. Had you been completely wrong about his feelings for you? Or were you just imagining it?

The likelihood of Bellamy sharing your same feelings seemed impossible, so you chalked it up to your wishful imagination.

You stood back up, facing him but avoiding making eye contact. "Well, I—uh," you stammered. "I'm not going back. Not yet."

"I didn't come here to take you back."

That made your gaze meet his.

Why did you come then, Bellamy? you thought.

He side-stepped you and you turned to see him wandering deeper into the meadow. He began observing each and every beauty and oddity the small sanctuary held, touching the petals of every flower with a delicateness you had never witnessed before. Soon enough, you felt compelled to join him.

The two of you must have spent an hour in that meadow, inspecting each species of flora, hovering your fingertips through the glowing cusp of each plant as if you could feel its light on your skin, laughing together when a butterfly landed on the tip of your nose. Sometimes you caught Bellamy watching whenever your face lit up with excitement as you discovered something new. He never really looked at what you had found; he just looked at you, but you were too overjoyed to even contemplate why.

You felt like you had entered a dream, protected from the outside world where there were Grounders, war, and bitchy brown-haired girls. Everything real was forgotten, even your unrequited feelings for Bellamy. You just enjoyed his company in this dream and pretended it would last forever.

Somehow, you had both ended up lying on the forest floor side-by-side, surrounded by flowers as you stared up at the starry night sky through the tree crowns. It wasn't as cold as before; you guessed it was because of Bellamy's close proximity to you. One of his hands was behind his head, the other on his stomach. His warmth was radiating off his skin and onto your own.

You could have fallen asleep if you closed your eyes. Probably not the most logical idea though.

Bellamy's quiet, yet deep voice disrupted the silence. "It's just a distraction, you know?"

"Hm?"

"Those girls," he clarified, and you watched as his words turned to mist, carrying into the black sky. "If I focus too much on the fact that I have to control an entire camp of teenagers, fight a war against the Grounders, while taking care of Octavia and y—" he cut himself off, closing his eyes with a sigh. "I just feel like I start to lose myself."

Your focus shifted from the sky to him. Even he didn't seem to be looking at the sky anymore, despite his gaze still being pointed straight upward. He looked lost in his own thoughts. Serious and sombre—much different compared to how they had been just a short while ago.

"Well," you began softly. "We can't have that. You already seem a little rough around the edges, Blake."

A grin slowly formed across his lips and he shook his head. He turned his head to the side, looking down at your smiling expression from where he lay. The weightiness from before had melted from his demeanour. Because of a little distraction.

You had thought those two girls he spent most nights with were there purely for his own physical needs or because his attraction to them was greater than his self-control. Never had you contemplated the fact that it might have been because he was mentally struggling with the hardships of being a leader. Of course, how could you have? He had never told you before now.

Your brows furrowed. "Why tell me?"

The muscles in his jaw clenched and the grin fell from his lips. A sense of seriousness returned but this time it was less heavy. It seemed more like a weight was lifting from his shoulders. Like a declaration. Like a long-awaited confession.

You felt something warm brush against your hand; it gently grazed over your knuckles, lighting a fire beneath your skin. In Bellamy's dark eyes, you could see the reflection of his hand caressing your own and your heart leapt to your throat.

"Why do you think?" he murmured, his eyes flickering between your own, urging you to connect the dots instead of making him say it aloud.

Your lips parted and the crease between your eyebrows deepened. 

Every time he picked you first to be his partner on a mission, every deep conversation you shared when no one else was around—they all had a hidden meaning. All the times his hand brushed against yours as you walked in sync side-by-side, the times you caught him staring at you through a one-hundred-person dense crowd, or the way he would step in front of you as if to shield you whenever there was even a hint of danger—it was all because...

"Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah." His eyes flickered between yours before he turned back to the stars. "And I—I understand if you don't feel the same way; I know I haven't given you much reason to. From those girls to the... the radio, and the culling on the Ark. If I could take—"

His sentence was cut short as you leaned over him, pressing your lips to his. You could feel his pulse racing in his lips. Or was it your own? Probably both. Your hair fell to the side and his mouth started to move against your own. He began to rise, moving you up along with him until you were both kissing in a sitting position.

Bellamy's hand moved to cradle your jaw, his lips slow and tender. Everything felt like it had fallen into place, like this was exactly how things were supposed to be, with his lips on yours in the middle of a fairy-tale-like meadow whilst surrounded by a field of glowing flowers and beautiful winged creatures.

The butterflies weren't just circling you now, they were somehow fluttering around in your stomach too and it felt exhilarating.

Unfortunately, the kiss did have to come to an end at some point. Even so, the warm fluttering in your stomach never ceased. Bellamy had pulled away first, his hands gently falling from your jaw and back into his lap. He was looking at you and at first, you were afraid he would get up and leave, or tell you he had changed his mind. But he didn't. A smile crept across his lips—not a self-satisfied smirk or a tantalising grin, but a genuine smile.

Forget the butterflies; your stomach was doing somersaults now. He found your hand once more and interlocked it with his own in your lap. His thumb drew small circles on the side of your palm almost as if he knew you needed a reminder that this moment was really happening.

"That was my first kiss," you admitted.

His smile became a little nervous. "Was it okay?"

Was it okay? This boy was a little clueless if he couldn't tell that you thoroughly enjoyed having his lips on yours. So, you answered him with another soft peck to his lips, then pulled back again to see his reaction. He chuckled, nodding his head to say he understood.

"We can always come out here to practice if you want," he said, this time with a smirk.

You laughed. "I think that's a good idea."

He tucked a lock behind your ear and gently brushed pieces of hair away from your face. You could feel warmth creeping into your cheeks, turning them a rosy pink. Well, it was probably more of a violet hue due to the intense blue glow from the plants and butterflies. Either way, it still revealed how nervous he made you feel.

"It's getting late. We should probably head back and sleep," you said. Bellamy raised an eyebrow, creating his own little innuendo with your words and your eyes widened. "Not together! Alone, I mean. In separate tents. With clothes... on..." you trailed off, realising you were only digging yourself a deeper hole.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in embarrassment.

He just chuckled and rose to his feet. "Come on, (L/N). Let's go sleep."

You rolled your eyes with a smile as he helped you stand up with him.

For a brief moment, you gave the area one last look, imprinting the memory into your mind. Who could have guessed that when you left the camp walls you would enter a fairy tale of vivid colours and electric butterflies? Or, even more surprising, that Bellamy Blake would later confess his feelings for you? All you had wanted was an escape; instead, you got a dream come true.

Bellamy pressed a hand to your lower back, guiding you with him towards the tree line in comfortable silence.

The walk back to the drop ship was pretty quiet. No more words needed to be said; a conversation that clarified what you two were now could wait for tomorrow when your brains weren't clouded by fatigue and the fresh excitement from confession. Some things hadn't changed though. Bellamy still stole glances at you every now and then, as you did him, earning a nervous smile and blush each time either of you got caught. Your hands alternated from brushing against one another to ever-so-slightly linking pinkies.

Okay, maybe things had changed a little.

You passed each flower that had led you to the meadow and this time, they became less and less as you grew closer to the drop ship. As you came up on the camp walls, the sound of fighting and conversations had died down and was replaced by the faint crackling of dying fires.

Finally, you both stepped through one of the openings and were within the camp. There didn't seem to be anyone awake; with the way the moon was shining down straight overhead, it was clear why. 

Your pinkie fell from Bellamy's and you moved in front of him, taking a few slow steps backwards. "Uh, that's my tent over there," you said, gesturing behind you.

His eyes never left yours as he continued to walk toward you. "Yeah, I know."

"Oh, you know, do you?"

A grin stretched across his lips as he hummed and reached for your waist, pulling you against his body. Your hands wound around his neck, a smile present on your face as he leaned in, his lips mere inches from your own. His lips had just brushed against your own when someone behind you cleared their throat and you both jumped apart.

Bellamy peered beside your head, semi-glaring at the interrupter behind you.

What a surprise it was when you turned around to see Roma, arms crossed—clothes on, thankfully—and looking severely unhappy.

"You have got to be kidding me," she said with a scowl.

Perfect. Great. Absolutely fantastic. Looks like her field day had come early.

No way. You were too tired to deal with this. You gave Bellamy an apologetic glance before attempting to slip away through the gaps between tents. Unfortunately, it wasn't in Roma's best interest to let you off so easily. She caught your wrist and jerked you back toward her.

Bellamy looked like he was about to step in, but you beat him to it.

You tore your wrist from her grasp, words dripping with bitterness as you said, "Never do that again."

For a split second, she looked the slightest bit intimidated, but then quickly covered it up with disdain. Her gaze flickered from you to Bellamy; it was hard to miss the way she straightened her posture and tried to look more presentable for him.

And for a split second of your own, you felt the slightest twinge of fear that Bellamy would change his mind about you and leave with her again. But at that very same moment, he gently grabbed your hand and guided you back to his side, dissipating all your previous worries.

Both you and Roma looked down at your interlocked hands in disbelief.

"Listen, Roma." He sighed, sounding like he was desperately trying to keep his cool. "I think it's best if you and Bree find another tent to sleep in from now on."

Her disbelief turned into pure astonishment. "What? Are you serious?"

Bellamy lightly squeezed your hand.

God, he was putting this girl through the five stages of grief. You almost felt bad. Then you remembered the daily torment she had been putting you through just for existing and the remorse immediately washed away.

"Because of her? She's not even—"

"Choose your next words very carefully," he warned in a dangerously low voice.

Her mouth opened and shut a few times before she realised any insult thrown at you would end badly for her. It's not like Bellamy would hurt her, but he did have power over the camp, so he would probably force her to share a tent with Myles or something. His non-stop babbling would drive her to insanity.

She gave him a defiant look. "What if we don't want to leave?"

"I'll take the tent down and move it somewhere else."

"Then Bree and I will make both your lives a living Hell."

You could hear Bellamy suppress a laugh. "Unlikely," he echoed your previous words.

Roma looked to you as if you could help her case—the audacity. You gave her a sarcastic 'what-can-you-do?' shrug which just enhanced her seething temper. It was obvious that she was getting nowhere and the moment she realised, you swore you could see her ego literally deflating.

She made a short high-pitched noise of frustration and spun around, her hair whipping melodramatically through the air as she practically stomped back to Bellamy's tent. You could hear her call out to the other girl inside, telling her to 'pack her shit' and that they were moving tents. Not long after, the blonde-haired girl emerged from the tent flap holding a bundle of clothes. Roma must have explained to her what happened because they both shot a venomous glare in your direction and then walked off in search of another tent.

You sighed in relief as they disappeared out of sight. You were about to walk back to your own tent, but Bellamy tugged you back to him once more, his arms wrapping around your torso as your hands fell on his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought she'd handle it better."

You fiddled with the material of his shirt, half-smiling. "I told you she was a gem."

"Yeah." He chuckled. "My taste of women has been a little... questionable."

Your hands moved up to his shoulders, pulling your body up against his. His fingertips grazed the exposed skin of your waist, sending a wave of goosebumps across your body.

"You should really try breaking that trend."

He had that same intense look in his eye as when you were both in the meadow. This time it didn't hold any sadness or longing, but rather a sense of finality and affection, like his greatest wish had finally come true—that would make two of you. One of his hands moved to cup your cheek, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb as his face grew closer to yours.

The heart thumping in your chest almost gave out as you reflexively leaned further into his warm embrace.

"I already have," he murmured before his soft lips descended upon yours.

And the butterflies returned.

[pricelessemotion]

poltergeists for sidekicks | E.M.

summary: [2.3k] the kids drag eddie to the halloween store where you happen to work.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, pining, eddie being a lovestruck idiot, r wears big prescription glasses and is described as having messy hair

a/n: happy halloween! here’s something i’ve been working on for ages just in time for the end of spooky szn! xoxo

masterlist

Eddie doesn’t hate Halloween. 

He used to love Halloween. He likes autumn. He likes watching the leaves change colors. He can appreciate the novelty of a hot apple cider and a hay ride. Hell, ever since he was old enough to go trick or treating, he reveled in it. Free candy and all he had to do was put on a costume and say three magic words? Sign him up. 

As he got older, he started to like Halloween for a slightly different reason. Don’t get him wrong, he still liked the free candy, but he liked the excuse to be someone else for a night. He liked how he could throw on a Michael Meyers mask and go door-to-door and be greeted with glee and sweets. 

It does a funny thing to a kid’s self-esteem, being treated better when he’s wearing the face of a fictional serial killer. 

Now, though, Eddie Munson is decidedly too old for trick or treating. He’s resigned himself to spending the holiday like it was any other day by spending the night in his room, playing guitar, and coming up with new campaign ideas. 

Which is exactly what he was doing when three freshmen started pounding down the door of the trailer demanding entry. Within moments, they are practically on their hands and knees asking, nay begging, for the older boy to take them to get last-minute Halloween costumes.

“Aren’t you guys too old to go trick or treating?”

“This is why we need to go to the store! If we wear masks, no one will be able to tell how old we are, hence extending our years of candy collecting.” Dustin explains, matter of factly.  

Eddie sighs, leaning back into the sofa, steepling his fingers together. “What’s in it for me?”

The three boys huddle together, conspiring in a manner that is not dissimilar to the way they plan their counterstrikes during Hellfire. They nod in sync, turning around so that Lucas is standing front and center, flanked by the two other boys.  

“That one girl you like is working there.”

Eddie remains stone-faced, quipping sarcastically, “That’s very specific.”

Mike lets out an exasperated groan, threading his fingers through his hair before yanking at the ends in frustration. “Y’know, the weird one. Coke bottle glasses, messy hair, always holding a book?”

Lucas’ eyes widen. Dustin smacks Mike on the chest and the hollow sound rings out through the empty trailer. They all start talking over each other, with two of them berating the third for A. being insensitive and B. expecting a good outcome from said insensitivity. 

Eddie wants to make a comment that your hair is not messy, it’s actually more voluminous. Besides, his hair is messy and he likes to think it makes him look badass. The glasses comment was a little unfair. Sure, the frames are a similar shade to the iconic green of the bottles of Coca-Cola. But the magnification was endearing, leaning more towards doe-eyed than bug. Unfortunately, Eddie did not consider that while he was observing you, someone might’ve been observing him. 

The assurance of your presence is how Eddie ends up here, parked outside of a hardware store turned seasonal shop. He’s helping his friends. He’s supporting a local business and therefore contributing to the local economy! You being here is just a bonus.

A bell rings above them as he swings open the door, the motion setting off a scratchy pre-recorded cackle. He’s gotta hand it to whoever is running the store. They’ve gone out of their way to transform the dingy overhead fluorescents and worn-out linoleum into something that actually resembles an eerie boutique. 

“Welcome in! I’ll be right witch you!” Your voice lilts out from the depths. 

You appear out of the darkness, expertly weaving under fake cobwebs and pushing aside fanciful drapes that have no doubt been strung up precariously around the store to add to the ambiance. You’ve got a witch’s hat on, tall and black and pointy, which further explains the pun you greeted them with. 

“How can I help you?” You smile brightly, adjusting your glasses. 

The younger boys barely spare you a glance, just a chorus of we’re good! before running off to the other side of the store, where all of the costumes are located. 

You barely blink at their rudeness. Whether that’s indicative of your experience in customer service or due to your generally sunny disposition, Eddie isn’t sure. You turn your smile and magnified gaze at him, “What about you?”

Eddie startles only slightly. He begins to peek over his shoulder as if there’s somebody else in the mostly deserted store that you could be talking to. What about him?

“Oh, I don’t need anything. I just came here with–” He gestures vaguely in the direction that the boys wandered off to. “The little shits that left me in the dust.” 

You bark out a laugh, a small smile settling on your lips. “It’s sweet of you to help them out.”

Eddie only blushes in response, murmuring a quiet it’s nothing, scratching the back of his neck like he might find a switch that’ll make him remember how to talk like a normal human being.   

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

You pick up a clipboard and a pen and start leisurely strolling down the decor aisle, making inconsequential markings on the paper. Whenever you come across gaps in the shelves you reach back into them, pulling the products to the front edge with a concentration that is quite adorable. 

He’s definitely staring by now. Feigning interest in a skull-shaped candy bowl, Eddie scrambles for something, anything to keep the conversation going. “I’m surprised you’re not busier.”

“You just missed the afternoon rush.” You say, straightening a pair of plastic tarantulas that have gone askew. “Not too many people came today, though. I guess they realized that it’s so close to the holiday that the shelves would be picked over.”

“Really?”

You shrug, “I think by October 30th, most people figure if they’re gonna dress up, they’d rather just pull together something from their closets than spend money. We’re actually busier the day after Halloween because everything gets marked down and people want cheap candy.”

“Makes sense.” He nods. “So, I take it you’re a big fan of Halloween?”

Your smile is apprehensive as if you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you. Your fingers brush the brim of the witch’s hat. “What gave me away?” 

He falls into step beside you, clasping his hands behind his back and puffing out his chest. “I just had a feeling.” Then, feeling much braver than usual, he adds, “I like your outfit.”

You look at him again, clutching the clipboard to your chest. For once, your eyes are leaning more towards bug-eyed. The black velvet dress has draped sleeves and a skirt that swishes with every step. Orange and black striped tights protect your legs from the inevitable chill that comes with October in Indiana. “You do?” 

“I do.” He insists, “It totally adds to the magical vibe. If you told me that you were an actual witch and this was just something you do to pass the time I’d one hundred percent believe you.” 

All apprehension has slipped off your face, replaced by a genuine smile that cracks open his chest. “Thanks…” You trail off.

“Eddie.” He supplies. 

“Well thank you, Eddie. I’d tell you my name but I’m guessing I don’t have to.” You say, rubbing the plastic name plate on your chest. 

Eddie does know your name, but it isn’t because of your name tag. He was far too proud to ask around for your name, and far too afraid of rejection to ask you himself. He’d been lucky enough to get a library book right after you. He’d pulled the weathered paper from the slip, seen your name at the bottom of the checkout card, traced the loopy letters with the pad of his fingers. It had definitely been more than a little pathetic. 

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat, trying to maintain any semblance of nonchalance. “Do you have any plans for Halloween?” 

Your face slowly lifts from the clipboard, twirling your pen between swift fingers polished in a deep burgundy. Directing your gaze at him, you peer through dark lashes and Eddie’s never been more thankful for the inventor of coke bottle glasses. The magnification allows him to see the spark of intrigue dancing across your pupils. 

“I was just gonna stay home. Maybe help my mom pass out candy.” The implication of the last sentence seems to hit you. You look down again, scrunching up your nose. Eddie finds it endearing how your first instinct is honesty rather than anything else. 

“Cool. That’s cool,” Eddie says in a manner that is decidedly uncool. He fiddles with his rings before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Actually, I was wondering if—” 

Suddenly, Eddie feels stupid for getting lost in your eyes and not paying attention to his surroundings. Maybe then he would’ve noticed how the linoleum got ever so slightly softer under the soles of worn-out boots. He would’ve seen the cloaked figure looming in the alcove, waiting for some unwitting soul to step on the pressure plate.

Unfortunately, Eddie did not see any of those things. The poltergeist, or ghost, or whatever the fuck it is swings out. He stumbles backward, releasing a shriek that is so high-pitched, that he wonders if he should start tapping into his upper range. Maybe it would add more texture to Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night sets. 

Instinctively, his arms fly backward, as if to protect you. He stumbles right into you, and he’s sure that if you didn’t grab his waist from behind, you would’ve fallen right over. Unfortunately, the movement has both of you careening back into a shelf, sending bags of overpriced candy and shitty Halloween decorations tumbling to the ground in a cascade of all things creepy and corny. He quickly spins around.

“Shit, are you–”

“I’m so sorry!” 

“I should’ve warned you–”

At that moment, chests heaving and hearts racing, you both seem to realize that your hands are still grazing Eddie’s waist. You spring apart, scrambling to clean up the display, haphazardly grabbing the fallen items and placing them back in their rightful places on the shelves. Among them is your hat, another casualty of the calamity. 

“I should’ve warned you,” You say again, slightly out of breath. “That thing nearly scares me to death every other day.” 

“It’s fine. I should’ve paid attention to where I was walking. It just added to the whole spooktacular experience.” He picks up the hat from the floor, dusting it off. “I think this belongs to you.” 

You give a bashful smile, but instead of putting the accessory in your outstretched hand, he gingerly places it on top of your head. Your glasses have slid down your nose from bending over to clean up his mess, and his thumbs gently push the joints of the frames until they’re sitting in their rightful place. 

“There,” He punctuates his statement with a resolute tug on your hat, making sure it’s securely on your head. “Perfect.”

You preen at him, eyes sparkling, before you cast them down at the floor. Dustin comes running around the corner, closely followed by Mike and Lucas. All of them are carrying armfuls of miscellaneous Halloween supplies, obviously alarmed at the clamor, but not alarmed enough that they didn’t take their sweet time coming from the opposite end of the store. Eddie takes advantage of your bashfulness and distinctly shoots them a look that says get the hell out of here. Dustin’s eyes dart between the two of you before they widen and his mouth forms a small oh. He sends Eddie an exaggerated wink, walking backward in order to not interrupt the private moment, dragging his two friends along with him.

“Thanks,” You smile at him. “For protecting me. I know who to bring with me if I ever want to walk through a haunted house.” 

He gives a lopsided grin, “My pleasure.”

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, “Anyways, what are your plans for Halloween?”

This is it. This is the moment that Eddie has been waiting for since he put down his guitar and his notebook and opened the trailer door. 

“That depends.” He clasps his hands behind his back, jutting his chin up in the air. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“I get off at four.” 

“The Hawk is doing this continuous horror movie marathon. Maybe you would want to go?” Eddie’s fingers are practically vibrating with excitement. He nearly forgets the most important part. “With me? I mean— Only if you like horror movies, I just figured because I’ve seen you walking around with that Stephen King novel. NOT that I’ve been watching you or anything!”

You let out a small giggle. The fact that you’re laughing and smiling is a good sign, even if it is slightly at his expense. He decides to lean into self-deprecation, hoping it’ll seem more charming than desperate. 

“I’d say I don’t scare easily, but I think we’d both know that’s a lie by now.”

You scribble something near the bottom of the paper on the clipboard, delicately folding it and ripping it off before placing it in Eddie’s palm. 

“Well, I’ve heard horror movies are less scary if you have someone to hold your hand.”

It doesn’t even matter that a ghost animatronic essentially acted as his wingman. The note with your number on it sits heavily in his pocket, thumb tracing over looped ink. Even though it’s cold as shit, he embarrassed himself, and signs of the spooky season decorate every corner, Eddie has a smile that rivals even the best of jack-o-lanterns. 

As Eddie turns off towards the dirt path that leads to Forrest Hills Trailer Park, the smile still hasn’t faded. 

For once, the streets of Hawkins seem a little less haunted. 

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

[moonydustx]

A not so funny story

requests | mastelist

Summary: With Uta controlling everyone and the marine attacking, you needed to contain an unconscious Law who was looking to join the fight. Now, you need to deal with the consequences of him finding out about this.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: blood, Law hurts Reader (not on purpose), they both love each other, but they are idiots who don't know how to talk. Law doesn't know how to express his feelings in this one. Angst, kinda fluff/happy ending.

W/C: 3.6k

A/N: I just saw the movie Red and the idea came to my mind. I need to shake off the rust and get back to writing, I thought it would be a good solution. Despite being linked to the film OP Red, there may be some things that differ from the canon.

For those who haven't seen the film, a spoiler-free context: in the film, we see a singer called Uta, who Bepo is a fan of and, together with Law, go to the show. Problems happen, she puts everyone to sleep and with her power, she manipulates these sleeping people to fight with other people who want to stop her.

italics apply to flashbacks and thoughts

Part 2 | Part 3 (NSFW)

The cold stone beneath you contrasted with your hot, sweaty body. You could feel the wounds burning on your body and if you reached out your hand, you could find the cause of them, your captain.

In the distance, you could hear someone calling your name and it didn't take long for Penguin to appear in your field of vision.

"Are you okay?"

"He gave me a hard time, but I'm fine. And you?" You grumbled, sitting up and taking in your surroundings. Apparently everyone had gone back to sleep.

"We're tired but fine. You're bleeding, do you need any help?"

"Everything is fine." You stood, with his help. "We need to get them out of here, I doubt the marines will miss the chance to catch so many pirates gathered in one place. At the very least, this will end in a fight."

You chose to help carry Bepo back to Polar Tang. Even though he was big, sharing the weight would be much easier than carrying Law alone. As soon as you entered the submarine, you disappeared from sight, leaving all of Uta's fight behind.

"Do you guys need help? I can see some pretty bad injuries from here." Ikkaku approached, already stopping the blood on your forehead. "Are they both okay?"

"We should take them to the infirmary and keep them under observation." you warned, seeing two other crew members carry them out of sight. "Can we get away from the fight?"

"Yeah, off their radar." someone answered you in the background.

"Perfect, keep us at this depth, keep an eye on the radios, any sign of change, if Law hasn't woken up, you look for me." You leaned against one of the tables, trying to ignore some of the pain in your body.

It was supposed to be just a quick show, at least that's what Bepo had said. Unfortunately for Law, he ended up being the polar bear's requested companion.

"Sure you don't want to change places with me?" Law appeared next to you, while you finished cleaning the kitchen.

"No captain, I'll be right here, with my duties." You smiled at him and, despite being frustrated, he let out a sideways smile.

"You know that I'm the captain right? That I can give the order and you have to go and I don't."

"You wouldn't be so mean, would you?" you asked indignantly and on one of the few occasions, you heard him laugh, even if it was low tone. "Captain!"

"I'm kidding. Just keep an eye on everything, okay? Don't let Shachi and Penguin cause any trouble."

"Yes, sir. And you, enjoy the show."

You were almost regretting not accepting the proposal. Law would certainly be much better at containing you and preventing you from getting into a big fight than you would be doing the opposite. But you liked the idea of ​​him trusting you.

"Everything is alright?" Ikkaku took you out of your reverie, noticing your body slightly bent and the blood falling on your forehead.

"Try holding back a furious Trafalgar Law from wanting to get into a fight and tell me if that's okay." You laughed, even though it took some of the air out of you. "Just a few bruises, nothing major."

"Come on, I'll help you take care of this." Ikkaku gently pulled you by the hand.

"Boys, do you deal with them?" you asked and they both nodded. "If Law wakes up, don't say anything to him about our little fight."

"You mean, about the big fucking beating he gave you?" Shachi teased you, earning a push.

"Exactly. He has bigger problems to worry about than dealing with this."

You and Ikkaku headed towards the dorm you shared. Your friend made a point of supporting you at every step, even if you insisted it wasn't necessary. She sat you down on the bed and grabbed a small first aid kit hidden on one of the shelves.

"Why not tell the captain?"

"Outch" you mumbled with one of the stitches she had on your face. "I have a feeling he's not going to like that we got into this fight without his presence."

"I think he'll be more resentful that you were the one who held him back." You laughed at her silly observation, then grumbled with another needle. Damn fight. "Don't act stupid."

"What you mean?"

"I'll let you choose. Between you being the only one who can steal books from him without him complaining or about every time we disembark, you having to be on his side. Should I mention that time he freaked out because Kid wanted to take you to the crew from him?" she laughed to herself, at her own memory. "What do you need to see that he likes you too?"

"And who said I like him?"

"Okay, you still want to keep hiding your feelings for him, just hide it better." she laughed again. It was clear to her - and anyone else who saw - that there was something between the two of you. You just prefer not to feed this illusion. "Still, I agree that he won't like all this one bit. Let's try to keep out of his sight."

Law was still trying to assimilate everything that happened. Uta's show had turned into a war scene and in the end, even he had become a puppet. That idea would haunt him for a long time.

Despite recent events, Polar Tang was quiet, too quiet. He could hear some buzzing, nothing he could identify. Another thing he couldn't place was you. The last time he saw you, he had tried to bargain for your presence at the show, even though he had asked to change places with you, he didn't think the idea of ​​going with you was bad. You'd probably hate the song, but he'd enjoy your sarcastic comments about any awkward situation. A small laugh crossed his lips when he thought about what you would say to see little Bepo.

At dinner, he observed Shachi, Penguin and Bepo, talking to each other. The concerned expressions denoted the seriousness of the matter, but that could come later. Even though he slept through it all, he still felt tired.

At lunch the next day, again, nothing from you. Ikkaku was also missing. It was impossible for the two of them to have disappeared together and without any justification. He tried not to think about the worst-case scenarios, but no matter how much he denied it, he wasn't such an optimistic person.

It only took a few seconds of your three companions stalling for him to know that you and Ikkaku were up to something or had already been up to something. He left them behind, following with firm steps to your room.

"I didn't see you two at lunch or yesterday at dinner, I wanted to know..." you two found Law leaning against the door of your room. His relaxed position disappeared in seconds when he looked at where Ikkaku's hand joined your forehead. "What happened?"

"Just a few scratches, nothing major." your colleague replied before you could open your mouth. She knew - actually, you weren't that good at hiding it - about your feelings and how easily you could wrap your head around your own words.

"Yeah, they're from yesterday, some scratches." you tried to complement, the captain's serious expression made it clear that that hadn't helped at all.

"Nothing much and that's why you haven't shown up since yesterday?" he grumbled and before he could continue his lecture, he felt his body being pushed forward, with Bepo, Shachi and Penguin falling beside him. "What the fuck?"

"We just wanted to know if you already know that she was the one..." before the bear finished speaking, the other two covered his mouth.

The grey eyes trailed from you to Ikkaku, to the group lying next to him, and back to you again. The small stress that was forming inside Law turned into concern when he saw the small trickle of blood dripping from your eyebrow.

It only took a few moments away for you to appear like that and he would never tolerate that, you didn't need to know about his feelings or how he was already thinking about taking revenge on whoever had done that, he would deal with it after taking care of your wound .

"Everyone out." you made to follow Ikkaku, stopping a few meters away. "Not you, I need to see this."

The door to the small room knocked subtly behind Law, who waited for a few seconds to approach you. The two of you already had a considerable height difference, but when you felt Law's cold, tattooed fingers on your chin, you felt even smaller. He turned both sides of your face, despite the cold touch, you could feel your skin burn beneath his fingers.

"You're warm, but I don't see any trace of infection." Not this one, you thought. "Give me the name?"

"Name?"

"Which idiot did this?" he replied without much patience, his fingers leaving your face behind.

"This is going to be a funny story." you laughed, stopping immediately when you saw him look deep into your eyes, his expression serious in an almost irritating way.

"Someone decided to hurt one of my crew. I don't think it's such a funny story. Who did it?"

"Captain of the Heart Pirates, Trafalgar Law." your answer didn't seem to catch him instantly, with each word that left your mouth, you could see him getting paler and paler. "I believe you already know, but Uta managed to control everyone who was asleep to attack the pirates and the marines and with that, you and Bepo were also controlled. The boys held Bepo and I had to deal with you, but everything is fine. "

"They told me about Bepo..." he seemed lost for words, taking a certain distance from you and leaning on the small table in your room. "So you restrained me, alone?"

"You, actually Uta, didn't have access to your Devil Fruit powers, it ended up being easier. After all, our mission was just to keep you two away from the navy." you explained, leaning on the opposite side to where he was, seeing his crestfallen expression. "Like I said, it's okay captain."

"Where else did I hurt you?" the question took you by surprise, making it difficult to hide your reaction. "I know my strength, I have a feeling it wasn't just that. I could see it myself, but I trust you, so please."

With your fists clenched and your gaze following your every step, Law could see your hand go to your ribs, along with a grumble, as you bent down to pick up a small cloth and fill it with something that smelled similar to alcohol. As much as he noticed you trying hard, he could see you limping. He watched you smear the contents on one of your cheeks and your arm, revealing some bruises.

You stopped in front of him, letting him analyze. Despite the pain throughout your body, Law's proximity was almost like an anesthetic. If he stayed there, you wouldn't mind spending the day under his gaze. Law took your arm, gently sliding his fingers under the bruise, watching you flinch in discomfort. His hands practically put your arm back in place and placed themselves on the zipper of your jumpsuit.

Your hands placed themselves next to his, pulling the device and opening the entire piece. Of all the times he had dreamed of touching your skin, none had felt like this. He liked to imagine how soft it would be, to think about how your body would shiver, to feel with his own lips every piece of exposed skin, while he heard you ask for more. All the purple spots he had dreamed of leaving on your skin were nothing like the one he saw. Thoughts would need to be put aside at that moment.

His hand knocked down one side of your jumpsuit, showing the large bruise on your rib, which made him hold his breath for a few seconds.

"What else?" his voice was barely audible. He knew there was more to it, but he didn't want to be invasive.

"Just this cut." you took off the other strap of your jumpsuit and let it fall below your waist, showing the wound on your thigh. It wasn't that big, but when you both looked at the place, you understood where all the warmth in your body was coming from. "Shit. It wasn't like this last time I looked." actually it was, you just wanted to spare him the worry.

You adjusted your jumpsuit, leaving the top hanging around your waist. Your eyes searched for Law's, but he seemed to be far away, even just a few centimeters away. For some time, he didn't say anything. His eyes followed one point you had shown and others, looking for other signs. His hands prostrated in front of his body, why had he done that? Why hurt you?

"Law?"

"I...I..." the words seemed stuck somewhere inside him. His hands placed themselves next to your face, a gesture you hadn't received from him yet. "I don't know how to apologize. Forgive me, I didn't want any of this to happen."

"No need, Law, really. I was doing what any of us would do, taking care of our crew, taking care of our captain."

Again the words seemed to have escaped him. He just wished he could hold you and apologize a thousand times, hold you there and heal every little part of you and never allow anything to hurt you again. Some conscious side of him screamed in the background that this wasn't anyone's fault, but the sound seemed so far away to hear, while the picture of what he had done was so close to him.

A few seconds passed, his hands were still on your face, while you just enjoyed the awkward affection you received. He didn't know how to deal with that feeling, it was a guilt like he had never felt. Along with a fear, a need to see you well. There were too many things to deal with and at that moment, he chose to be the most rational one.

"It's infected and may have broken something." Law let his medical side take control of the situation. "Room. Shambles."

Before you even noticed the blue dome surrounding you, the two of you had already been transported to the infirmary. You remained standing in your place as you watched the captain hurriedly walk around the room, collecting some materials and before you could try to get on the stretcher, the two of you were already being taken to another place.

The table full of books, the small window of the Polar Tang showing some little orange fish passing by outside, a cozy bed, even with the sheets spread out. That definitely wasn't your room. You watched Law leave the materials on the table and reach Kikoku. You saw the blue dome again, this time, you knew that he was using his powers to confirm that you had indeed presented all your injuries to him.

"I was worried about your rib, but apparently it was just the bruise. Now about your leg, I may need to redo those stitches and medicate you. I can't let the infection spread."

You knew he was nervous, bordering on anxious, but you had known him long enough to know that stopping him from treating you would be even worse. You had chosen to hide your injuries so that Law wouldn't feel guilty, now that he knew, you didn't have much else to do.

"Law." you called out to him carefully, as he prepared the medication. "Do you mind if I bathe first?"

"Sure, I mean, no problem. Just wait a second." He walked away from the table and piled up some things, which he handed into your hand. "Here's my towel, I also left some clothes in case you want to use them, if you don't want to, that's okay. I can ask Ikkaku..."

"This is perfect, thank you Law." you hugged the small bundle of clothes close to your body.

"Room." again, in a matter of seconds, you were at the bathroom door. "I'm sorry, but your leg is really hurt, you shouldn't force it while walking."

"Okay" unlike the time he had taken you to the infirmary, now he had transported you close to each other, which made the air disappear from your lungs. "Can you wait for me? I mean, you said I wouldn't I should force my leg and..."

"I'll be outside, just call me and I'll be here." Please call me, Law's inner voice practically screamed.

Your shower was much quicker than you expected. Just knowing that he was waiting for you outside made butterflies fight in your stomach. You gently dried your body and took the clothes he had given you. Something that looked like shorts - it might have been underwear, but you didn't worry about that right now - and a black button-down shirt. As soon as you button the last button, you can pay attention to the smell of the fabric. Something soft, woody, you wondered if that was his scent.

"Law?" All it took was a small call and he soon entered the bathroom. Not as discreetly as he expected, his eyes roamed your body. "Can you help me?"

"Of course" your feet left the floor, giving you a few seconds to assimilate that he had picked you up and carried you back to the room. He hadn't done this before, but you preferred to just enjoy the sensation, locking your arms around his neck.

With a few steps inside the room, he placed you lying on the bed, pulling a rod further to the side, only then did you notice the hanging IV.

Law bent down, reaching your arm level, cleaning it with a small piece of cotton. He looked at the wound on your leg. In silence, he cleaned the area and took some bandages, placing them across the entire length of the wound. The contrast between your warm skin and his cold hands was strangely comfortable. You wished they would last a little longer there.

"I think we can leave these stitches for another day, but I need you to take this medicine. It's an antibiotic, the infection is small, but I'd rather take care of it soon." He pulled the small needle, seeing your face pale. "I'm sorry darling, but it's the best option we have."

Darling.

That word would echo in your mind for a long time. The fear of the needle that was about to come into contact with your skin eased when you saw the care he took with each gesture.

"Just don't look, okay?" He waited for you to close your eyes. "Just a few seconds and that's it. You'll feel sleepy, but that's normal. As soon as you wake up, I'll bring you something to eat."

He got up and started to adjust the pillows on the bed, the ones that were around and under you. His hands rested around your body, his body was on top of yours, even without any immediate contact. It was inevitable not to get lost in his eyes, or see him do the same with yours. You would like to engrave that in your memory, forever.

"Are you comfortable?" his face still had the same tense expression from the first moment he found you in the room.

"I am, I promise." you replied, in a burst of courage, you brought your hand to his face, touching his cheek. "Law, what worries you so much?"

He walked away, sitting at the foot of the bed. You just straightened up so you could look at him. His tattooed hands took off his hat, fingers tangling against the dark strands.

"I can't deal with the fact that I did this. I did this to you. Of all the people that could have been there, I hurt you." he grumbled, turning so he could look at you. "You do not understand."

"Actually, I understand." your answer left him stunned for a few seconds. "But don't blame yourself, you didn't choose this, captain"

"I know, but at the same time..." he huffed, trying to find the right words, which scratched his insides every time he looked at your scourged face. "You understand me, huh? I mean, I don't just see you as a crew member and something tells me you don't just see me as your captain. And knowing that of all the things that could have happened, I hurt you. I promise compensate you for everything."

"About what you said, about what we see in each other." your thought was interrupted by a long yawn. "What should we do about this?" You made to get up, but the IV attached seemed to transmit drowsiness straight to your body. Your eyes were already starting to get heavy.

"That we can deal with this later. You took care of me, now it's my duty to take care of you. For that, you need to rest." His hands reached yours, giving a slight laugh when he saw you fighting with your own eyes, wanting to leave them open. "I promise not to hurt you again or let anyone else hurt you."

Before you fall asleep for good, you can feel his lips on your hand.

[ronwestbreeze]

you're gonna go far | 10

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. word count: 3.9k

read on AO3

You eventually decided to forget your body for now and leave it to Norm to take care of it. All you were focusing on was burying yourself further into work.

Which included going back to tending to your garden by planting and replanting a few seeds and veggies. Then there was checking up on the baby who was bound to be due soon, you’d spend the last few hours of the day with her until eventually, you forced yourself to sleep in the Avatar Compound.

That was your schedule throughout the next couple of days. Along with that, you took on more work to distract yourself such as restocking more link shacks and taking care of the land along with the other avatars. It was one of the many deals the humans made with the People in exchange for letting them stay instead of going into exile. It kept you busy whenever you didn’t need to tend to your garden. Any free time that you happened to have would’ve been filled up with something else to keep you busy.

The only peace you got was at the end of the day when you were in the tank room.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone, little one.” You said to her the first night you returned to Hell’s Gate. “I was unfortunately a bit distracted. But now I’m here and I’m never leaving you that long again. That is, until you’re born of course.”

There was a subtle shift in the stomach, bringing you a slight sense of comfort that she still remembered your voice. You didn’t know why it was comforting though. You wouldn’t be the one to hold her in the end. You probably wouldn’t be able to see her much once she was with her rightful parents…

Stop—stop.

Then there was foraging.

You enjoyed wandering around the forest to both discover new things and become well acquainted with the familiar routes. Going to your mother’s grave, finding the shack you had been trapped in, and even venturing further out just to see what was out there. Things you’ve missed.

It would’ve been nice if there was some comfort to all of it. But it made you forget. Made you think less. That was enough for now.

Until you eventually had to return to the clan’s base for Mo’at’s checkups. And not wanting to anger the Tsahik, you went anyway despite your reservations about it. All you could do was pray you didn’t run into Jake during the short visit.

So when you saw Tsu’tey with his brother inside her hut, you were strangely relieved which quickly made your stomach churn at the very thought.

His brother, Arvok, noticed you first as Mo’at was working on his abdomen. Surprisingly, he offered a white yet tired smile your way, “Ah, my savior the dreamwalker! I thought I was dreaming before.”

He ended up sitting up a bit as he spoke but Mo’at forced him to lie back down, “Hold still.”

“No need to thank me. It was nothing.” You mumbled, face impenetrably impassive.

“Nothing?! I heard you died because you saved me. How is that nothing?” Arvok sat up a little again only for his head to be forced back down by an irritated Tsahik.

You tried not to acknowledge the younger male’s words. Tsu’tey watched you for a beat before nudging Arvok’s shoulder gently, “Mawey, tsmukan.”

Not bothering to try and understand what he had said, you muttered again, this time sternly, “As I said, it was nothing—frankly, you should be more worried about yourself and the person who stabbed you.” Finding the new topic, you quickly steered the conversation in that direction. “By the way, who injured you in the first place—”

“That is none of your concern,” Tsu’tey said simply with his face somewhat screwed into his usual scowl.

You nodded expectantly, “Yeah, I thought so.”

Arvok then nudged his arm, hissing at him in  Na’vi. Tsu’tey didn’t appear happy but spoke again, “It is clan business. Something that you should not concern yourself with. You have been too involved enough as it is.”

“Ha!” Mo’at huffed earning a glare from the Olo’eyktan. She did not offer more and continued tending to Arvok.

“Well,” You frowned, clenching and unclenching your hands. By then you realized you were still standing while the other three were much closer to the ground. “I did get poisoned by this clan business but you’re right. I suppose it is none of my concern.”

At this, Mo’at finally stood and scowled at the two of you—more specifically Tsu’tey, “If this is how your interactions will be during this time, then I must ask you to leave and come back when you are ready to speak with her correctly.” She gestured for Arvok to sit up—albeit slowly—and dismissed him, “You must continue resting. It will be a long while before you can hunt again.”

“Yes, Tsahik.” With a grumble, Arvok slowly pushed to his feet, the wince clear on his youthful features. But he looked better. Better than you had expected someone to have been stabbed to look. Then again, Mo’at must’ve been working on him while you had been unconscious—dead—so he had time to get better.

He held his abdomen gingerly as he walked past you, sending you a quick nod before he finally left. “You!” At that, your attention turned back to Mo’at who was now pointing at the spot Arvok had been, “Sit. Now.”

Obediently you sunk to the floor and allowed Mo’at to start her work on you. Tsu’tey surprisingly didn’t leave and just lingered in the background much to your dismay. But your body wasn’t tense because of his presence. You were constantly glaring at the doorway, waiting for him to show up at that point, waiting with your guard up, waiting for yet another fight with that damned asshole.

“You shouldn’t be putting so much strain on this arm. You should be resting as well, let yourself get adjusted to your new body.” Mo’at instructed sternly as she applied new green mush to your arm.

You winced, both at the subtle sting in your arm and the easy way she mentioned your transference. As if it was another day. You couldn’t tell whether that pissed you off or made you quite relieved that at least someone was making a huge deal out of it. You’d already cried everything out of your system. Now you just wanted to allow yourself to feel numb.

Just until everything came back up again. If it ever would.

In the corner of your eye, Tsu’tey shifted onto the mat further behind you.

Mo’at pressed her hand against your arm, “Have you buried your former body yet?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “Why are you asking me that now?”

“Some questions will be hard to answer. It is the way of life.” She replied easily as she began unwrapping the bandage on your shoulder. “But it is okay to not be ready. Are you not read, dreamwalker?”

“Sure.” It was all you offered.

You left the body to Norm now. You made him swear not to tell you where he planned on putting it. And you were okay with that.

You were fine—you were fine—you were fine—

Eventually, after enduring a long silence—which you were quite comfortable with—Mo’at finished and stood. You moved to get up as well but she pressed her hand down on your shoulder and shook her head, “You speak with Olo’eyktan first. Then you leave.”

With that, she stepped out of the hut and you, after great reluctance, looked over your shoulder at Tsu’tey to find him slightly sitting hunched over on the ground, playing with something in his fingers.

You weren’t going to speak first. He wanted to speak with you. You would wait for him.

And eventually he did, “When Mo’at brought up the potential—that you could be our fourth mate—what did you think?”

The question startled you. It was the last thing you ever thought he’d ask. And the fact that it was Tsu’tey himself asking you this and not Neytiri or hell, even Jake.

But you remained on guard anyway, “Do you care?”

At that, he raised his gaze from whatever was in his hands to look at you, “Many people have made their opinions known about the matter. All but you. It’s as if your voice is drowned out by an unforgiving storm. I am asking you, dreamwalker. What do you think of it?”

For a moment you considered your words carefully. The conversation wasn’t adversary so you lowered your defense, only by a little bit. And as you thought about your answer, you realized you hadn’t even had the chance to think about what you truly thought about the idea of being their fourth mate. Neytiri had mentioned them looking for one long ago but you never imagined it would be you. You never imagined—

You never imagined you’d be loved.

And because of that, it was simply never in the cards for you. Even if there were moments where you—

“Why does it matter anyway?” You glared down at your fingers, watching as your nails dug into your palms. “Can you honestly imagine us as mates? I mean have you thought about it yourself? Can you even imagine Jake and I as mates? After the other night? Tsu’tey, I think the answer’s pretty clear.” You faced him, jaw tight and your voice quiet despite your steeled spine, “I’m too broken. And it would be cruel—I am not cruel and I’m not selfish enough to allow you three to drag yourselves to the bottom because of me. And that’s what I think. It’s quite simple actually—”

“To your human mind, yes.” Tsu’tey shook his head and stood, turning his back to you. He paced for a moment, eyes searching the room until he finally spoke. “But it is about duty. If Eywa has favored you then I must do my job as Olo’eyktan and honor that. If you are our fourth—”

“You don’t know that.”

“You are right, I do not!” He hissed but stopped, almost as if he were restraining himself.

You clenched your hands together again, glaring down at the matted floor. For a moment, the two of you were silent. This had to be the longest conversation you and Tsu’tey had ever had. And of course, it was about something heavy, something complicated, something difficult to even comprehend. Why couldn’t it have been something simple? Why couldn’t things be simple?

“I have failed my people.”

A beat went by and you looked up, wondering if that was all he had to say only to find his gaze on you. Intense and yellow. Unreadable yet uncomfortable to receive, nonetheless.

But his face was gentle as he spoke. His voice was quieter, “And in some ways, I feel I have failed our Great Mother. I feel I have failed my mates. My son. My unborn children. My mother. My brother. My father. Perhaps you do not understand it, dreamwalker, but it is my sworn duty to do what I must for my clan. To be the leader that they deserve. And I am not.” He stepped forward until he was standing in front of you and dropped something into your hands.

It was pretty. A handwoven string of beads and gems, almost too gorgeous to belong to someone like you. You held it limply in your hands, not wanting to touch it any further.

“I am not a good mate.” He continued, now his face unreadable. You weren’t really sure what yours looked like at the moment but you hoped it didn’t convey what you felt at the moment as he spoke.

Utter dread. Shock. And pity.

“If I had proposed to you, I would have thought that I had done right by the Great Mother.”

He said it so simply. Proposed? Tsu’tey? To you? How come he didn’t appear affected when he said these words? Why was it you that was struck frozen by this revelation?

Perhaps he was good at hiding it. Perhaps you were too.

Tsu’tey knelt in front of you and looked down at the string, his face still a mask. “I would take care of you, just as I do with my other mates. I would treat your children as my own, I would be okay with not being in love with you for the sake of duty.” Unconsciously, your fingers wrapped around the string as you took in his words. Very deliberate, very careful, very real. “But you would have said no. And I would be okay with that too. Because I cannot commit to my duty. Because I am a bad Olo’eyktan. And…” The words seemed difficult to spill out from his mouth but he forced it out anyway. “And I am not cruel enough either, dreamwalker.”

For a moment, you did not say a thing. For a moment, you wondered if you were dreaming. For a moment, you wondered if there could be a world where you and Tsu’tey weren’t hostile to each other like now. You wondered if there could be a world where you’d look at him as something more.

Because in the end, you appreciated his honesty. Frankly, that was one of the best things you liked about the Na’vi. They weren’t like humans. They didn’t hold anything back because they didn’t see a reason to.

And it made your next words clear and firm, “Your search for worthiness isn’t on me, Tsu’tey. And a proposal definitely wouldn’t have been able to fix that.” You frowned and glanced down at the string and then back at him, “That wasn’t a proposal, right?”

Tsu’tey stood then, his tail swishing behind him. “I suppose it was. In a way.” He looked at you expectantly, “And your answer, dreamwalker?”

He held a look that told you he already knew your answer. You stood as well and handed him back the beaded string with yet another impassive mask, “No. That is my answer. But you knew that.”

Wordlessly, he took the beads back, his gaze never leaving it. You stood there for a moment, feeling exhausted once more. And again, Tsu’tey allowed himself to appear the same.

Too tired for this world. Too tired to carry on.

You steeled yourself away and stood straighter, “So you agree. This isn’t what Eywa wanted.”

At that, his ears twitched, “We do not know what she wants. It has always been that way. And it will remain so.”

Nodding, you moved past him and toward the entrance, only to stop short. Your brain was muddled, your emotions were tangled, and yet you spoke clearly. “If your deity is as great as you all say she is, then I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to suffer.”

Without waiting for a response, you left. Not daring to look back. Not daring to ponder questions you’ve never thought about until now.

Enough. Enough of all of it.

“Any day now.” You mumbled, staring bleakly down at the table as Norm was checking the ultrasound. It was weird being several inches taller than him now when in human form he had quite the height over you, “We just have to watch her closely now.”

Norm nodded, “Good, good. That’s great news. I’ll let the parents know. You good staying here for a bit?”

“Always.” You watched over the tank as Norm left the room. Tucking the tablet under your arm, you placed your hand against the class, “Can’t wait to meet you, finally. I wonder if you’re gonna be as quiet when you’re born.”

The silence was suffocating, and So were the tears. They had finally come.

God, you were so angry.

Was this really all you were worth? An obligation? Something so worthless that you needed empty protection? Was that all they saw in you? Was that all you’ll ever be to them?

You sank into a nearby chair, allowing the silent tears to fall.

It wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to be the outsider—the intruder. All you wanted was to save a bunch of trees and now you’re here. A stain. An inconvenience. Blood red on a perfect white canvas.

This baby girl didn’t deserve someone as shattered as you. She deserved the loving parents that claimed her from the beginning. Protected and kept away from your storm.

“I hope this world doesn’t hurt you, little one.” You wiped at your eyes, beaten and bruised already.

Norm eventually came back moments later. You hadn’t gotten up from the chair. He saw your dried tears and cleared his throat, “Jake said he’s already on his way, um,” He appeared careful and gentle as he spoke, “I’ll take over if you need a break.”

“You don’t have to.” Was your attempt at a protest.

But he shook his head adamantly, “No, I will. You’ve—it’s been pretty rough for you. It’s the least I can do for…”

You frowned as he avoided your gaze.

“I could’ve done better—more to save you—”

“Spellman, you're fine,” You shook your head and stood. “I don’t blame you—couldn’t if I wanted to. You’re the only one that has my back here. Well, maybe besides Neytiri.”

“Are you going then?” He asked as you walked passed him.

“Yeah, I’m gonna try to cool off. Maybe go on a walk.”

“You sure? Don’t get another chunk of your skin bitten off again. Or poisoned.”

“Ha-ha.” You responded dryly.

Deciding you wanted fresh air, you left out of Hell’s Gate and went into the forest.

You had marked the places you passed with small white strips in the past, tying them to smaller branches. It allowed you to venture further away from the base this time. And by the time the sun began to set, you found yourself at the waterfall, the same one you were at with Tsu’tey before.

And you stayed there. This time you went toward the waterfalls’ mist surrounding you the closer you got to the waterfall itself. The water moved up toward your waist until you were practically floating above water.

For a while, you stayed like this. Until night came. You stayed like this until your hair stuck to the back of your neck.

Eventually, you passed through the waterfall. Breathing out a long and delicate sigh.

These waters relaxed you. These waters made you forget.

Once you reached the other side of the waterfall, there was a rock large enough for you to hoist yourself on. And sit there. You didn’t know how long you’d stay there and you didn’t care. The world outside of this place didn’t matter to you. For a while, you just wanted to forget. To become stone.

Half alive and half buried in the ground.

That is until the world called for you to come back. Until the world wrapped its grip on you and yanked you back into reality.

Until something whizzed past your face, cutting some of the strands from your unbraided hair.

And now across from you was a spear lodged into the stone. Whoever had thrown it had great strength. Whoever had thrown had meant to kill you.

Instantly, you froze. Heart pounding against your chest, blood rushing to your ears.

“Demon!” AN unfamiliar voice shouted further away—possibly on land away from the waterfall. Quickly, you lowered yourself on the rock. Most of the water from the mountain and mist hid you, so there was a chance that the attacker couldn’t see you. “Come out and I kill you!”

You didn’t move from the rock. From what little you could hear, the voice spoke in Na’vi as if he was giving orders to someone. Which meant this guy wasn’t alone. The many splashes coming toward you only confirmed that.

As quietly as possible, you slid off the rock and toward the spear, yanking it out of the wall with what little strength you had left. A shadow then passed you as you ducked behind the rock just as a figure stepped through the waterfall. He was wearing strange armor and his war paint was different from what you had seen the Omatikaya wear. Which also told you that these warriors that surrounded you were from a different clan. A clan you were sure that weren’t reluctant in having to kill the likes of you for being human.

 The warrior had an arrow pointed and ready. Fortunately, he hadn’t seen you yet.

But before you could take your chance at escape, a quicker shadow to the right dived through the falls, aiming another spear at you.

It was so quick, you hadn’t heard the other warrior coming and barely dodged the sharp end of her spear as you slid off the rock and into the deep waters.

The spear didn’t slow and sunk into the water with you. You swam away from the two, going deeper underwater until you weren’t able to be spotted. You continued swimming away from the small enclave and made it to the other side of the waterfalls.

Praying that the mist continued to cover you up, you came up for air and climbed onto a nearby rock. You still had the discarded spear and gripped it in your hands as you hopped onto another rock—not even stopping when you heard a bunch more splashes and shouts in Na’vi coming toward you.

Once you were sure they were far enough away from you, you continued hopping on the rocks until you finally reached land. But you didn’t run, knowing that it would make too much noise. Instead, you clutched the spear to your chest and slinked into the forest, just as how Neytiri had done it when the two of you would travel through the forest together.

Be one with the forest and all that shit.

God, you couldn’t catch one break. First Jake, then Tsu’tey, and now this? It was like the universe hated you for some reason.

As quickly and as quietly as possible, you put some distance between you and the waterfall. When you got far enough, you ducked behind a thick tree, pressing your back against it while taking in shaky breaths. You kept the spear close to your chest as if it were a shield while praying that you had been quiet enough to escape.

Something sharp pressed against the side of your neck, instantly squashing any hope you had left.

“You are loud, demon.” She spoke in Na’vi. It was one of the only sentences you recognized since Neytiri used to say it to you all the time in the beginning.

You remained still, staring at the warrior in the corner of your eye.

She took the spear from your hands and tossed it to the ground, not lowering hers.

“Where is your clan, sawtute?”

Okay, she spoke a little English. Which meant this clan had lived around humans at some point,.

“I don’t have a clan.” You gritted out shakily, “And I’m not trespassing—”

“Demon! All of you!” She hissed, the tip pressing further into your skin. “I kill you and bring your head back to my clan. The rest of you demons will follow!”

You glanced toward the spear on the ground, trying to figure out how fast you’d have to move to get it and escape.

But you nor the warrior didn’t get a chance to do anything as an arrow flew through the trees and hit the warrior in her shoulder.

She stumbled back, you took the chance and grabbed the spear from the ground.

As the warrior fell to her knees, your savior stood further away behind her. Bow raised with another arrow pointed at her.

You breathed out shakily, “It’s you.”

(i'm not adding any more people anymore!)

taglist: @doggyteam2028 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @sillyblues @saturnhas82moons @1mawh0re @aprosiacperson @loserwithnofriends @garfieldsladybird @slutforsmut4ever @lik0

[lou-struck]

Missed Messages

Lucifer x reader

~ You have always tried to be self sufficient and fight your own battles. But when you reach your breaking point, you find yourself alone.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, physical and emotional feelings of stress, reader getting treated poorly for being a human, group projects.

~2.9k

You feel like there is a little stress demon bouncing around your chest. In the human world, group projects were annoying, and unfortunately, they still exist in hell.

For one of your classes, you were paired up with Olivier, a Greater demon from one of the Devildom's wealthy families, and his companions. Right from the get-go, he made it very clear that he had no intention of working on a project with a filthy human and that if you were to say anything about his refusal, it would make Diavolo's exchange program look bad if it appeared that the demons at RAD were not being accepting of humans. 

At first, you thought his threat was silly. That he was simply a slacker who wanted to get out of work. But after a while, you realized that Olivier has a strong distaste for humans and could have the influence to cause problems for the exchange program if you were to speak out against his behaviors. 

So, you put on your best face and ignored his prejudiced behavior. The subtle comments he would make under his breath when you asked questions in class, the way he would cleanse his hand with fire magic after coming into contact with something you had touched, and the way conversations would die out whenever you entered a room without one of the brothers, the Angels, or Diavolo himself by your side. 

You have been tirelessly working on this massive project all by yourself; it has stolen all of your free time, and feelings of sardonic frustration are just welling up inside of you. Now, just like the too-heavy book bag that clings to your shoulder, You are nearing your breaking point. 

The House of Lamination is a safe haven for you after your tiring days at RAD, but right as you enter through its massive double doors, you come face to face with Lucifer. The Avatar of Pride greets you with a loving expression, but he looks just as exhausted as you feel. 

"Mc? Is something troubling you?" he asks, taking in your downcast features with a frown. You want to tell him of your little problem, but he is ridiculously busy and probably has more important things to do than dealing with your inability to play nice with others.

After all, a classmate not liking you is no excuse for you to receive a poor grade on your project…

"Not at all," you reply, flashing him a sweet, convincing smile. "I'm just getting a bit hangry, I can't wait for dinner tonight."

"I see," he says doubtfully.

"How are you doing?" you ask, changing the subject. 'You look a bit stressed."

"Is it that obvious?" he chuckles, raking his hand through his raven-colored hair. "Apparently, those rubber duck toys from the human world have become quite popular in the Devildom, and Lord Diavolo thought it would be fun to give them out at RAD. So now I am going through the student council finances to determine how many ducks and varieties we need."

"Sounds complicated, but why you?"

"No clue," he sighs, "But he seems to think that I have a hidden fondness for these toys."

"Well, I'm sure this Rubber Duck event will go off without a hitch," you say earnestly. "You are so organized and capable you can make anything successful."

"Do you really mean that?" he asks, a smile gracing his fine features. You nod as he gives you a soft peck on the forehead as thanks for your kind words. "I have to work through this paperwork now, but I feel more inclined to do it after your encouragement, Mc."

"Wait," you call after him. "You better make it down for dinner tonight then; if you don't, I will personally invite Solomon to come and prepare the next meal."

His eyes widen as a shudder courses through his strong back. "There's no need for that. I promise to be down for dinner."

~

Hours later, everyone is gathered around the dinner, eating some kind of Devildom variation of lasagna that Satan made.

Beel has a whole sheet pan to himself and is chowing down as he and Belphie seem to be having a telepathic conversation that no one at the table is able to decipher. Lucifer is at the head of the table, keeping true to his promise of joining you, but he is eating quickly, clearly in a rush.

Asmodeus sits to your right, talking animatedly about something that happened today when he was at the mall, you're sure it's an entertaining story based on the reactions of the others, but you are too lost in thought, poking at your dinner plate with a silver fork. 

Although you have been working on your project for days, there is no way you are going to finish the damn thing on time. This workload was meant for a large group, not just one human.

"Mc? What are ya thinkin' about?" Mammon asks, stirring you from your thoughts. "Ya haven't touched yer dinner."

"Satan looks up at you from across the table. "Do you not care for this dish?" he asks. "I could make you something else if you would prefer it?" his dejection breaks your heart.

You shake your head quickly. "No, not at all," you say. "I love it; the sauce is really creamy, I just got distracted."

"Oh, I see." he nods as you take a bite of his dish. "I'm relieved."

"Gahhhh," Levi cries from his seat as he sets his game console down on the table. His screen flashing red tells you that he has just failed the level he was on. "I can't believe it, I was so close."

"Leviathan, what did I say about playing video games at the dinner table?" Lucifer asks the purple-haired demon sternly. 

"N-not to." he sulks, slipping the little handheld off the table and into his deep jacket pocket.

"Thank you," the eldest responds. He clears his throat to get the attention of everyone. "Now, if I could just have a second of your time."

"One," Belphie deadpans, looking at his older brother. They hold eye contact, and it is clear the youngest is struggling to keep a straight face at his joke.

"Anyways," the taller demon continues, "I have a very important task to finish tonight, and I will need absolutely-"

"That's two seconds now." Satan interrupts with a snicker. 

Lucifer, with the wisdom and patience of the oldest sibling, chooses to ignore the teasing and continue with what he is saying. "As I was saying, I require peace and quiet to complete these documents, so I will now be returning to my study and enchanting the door with a noise-canceling spell. I do not wish to be disturbed, so please only contact me if it is an emergency."

"Wait? So we jus can do whatever we wanna do tonight?" Mammon asks, his eyes sparkle with mischievous greed as he imagines the possibilities before him.

"Within reason, Mammon," Lucifer's crimson glare shoots to all his brothers. "But if I find out that any of you decided to waste your free time running about the Devildom causing problems, rest assured, I will punish you using everything at my disposal." The room falls silent as the Avatar of Pride rises from his seat and turns to leave. His massive cape swishes dramatically as he walks out the dining room doors. 

Unsurprisingly, Asmo is the first to spring from his seat. His arms wrap around you as you inhale his sweet peach-scented cologne. "Mc, come to my room. I have the cutest top you can wear tonight when you go to the club with me." he purrs into the shell of your ear.

"No way," Mammon objects. "The human is gonna come to the Casino with the Great Mammon tonight." 

Before the two demons try to drag you across the Devildom to party, you object. "Actually, I have a project to work on," you say, standing. "But you guys have fun."

"Wait, Mc," Beel asks softly, his big eyes full of hope. "Belphie and I were gonna go get some shaved ice for dessert. Would you like to join us?"

Your heart flutters tenderly at the Avatar of Gluttony's request, but the stress you are feeling is hitting you ten-fold. "I wish I could, Beel. But I really have to get my assignment done."

"May I join you two?" Satan asks. "I find myself in the mood for dessert."

"Me too," Levi quips.

"Sounds like a plan," Belphie says, looking at you with a pout. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

"I'm positive," you reply, giving them your most convincing smile. "Now, you guys should go before the shop closes for the night." Beel's eyes go wide with worry, and he hastily leaves the room. As the others follow him out. 

Now alone, your body begins to tremble under the stress of the deadline looming over your head. The walk back to your desk is a long one, and tears begin to wheel in your eyes as you stare down at your assignment rubric and wonder how, in the three realms, you are going to be able to finish this project on time. 

~

It's been hours of working. Stressing, erasing, and overthinking and you feel like you are nearing your wits end. 

Your screen lights up with a message from Asmodeus. When you open it is a video attachment. Clicking on it you see that the 6 brothers are sharing a lush VIP booth at the Fall. "I wish you were hereeeee," Asmo yells into the speaker just above the thrumming base that belphie manages to sleep through peacefully. Their cheeks are ruddy from demonus, and they have the happiest smiles on their faces. 

It brings a smile to your face as you rewatch the video. Just behind Mammon, you see a figure that has you seeing red. 

He is double-fisting some kind of green demonus and wearing a ridiculous hat, but you see your classmates, the demon Olivier and the rest of your 'group' out partying without a care in the world.

While you are at home, working tirelessly on their project. 

Something inside of you just shatters, and you turn away from your desk and throw yourself onto your bed. The soft pillows muffle your cries of frustration. Your DDD feels like a brick in your hand as you raise it to your eye level. 

Your tired face stares back at you on the black screen, and you feel so alone.

You need to talk to someone…

But it's the middle of the night, Simeon and Solomon have gone to bed hours ago and Diavolo and Barbatos are off at a diplomatic conference. You know in your heart that Lucifer is still awake, hunched over his desk as he works through his mountain of paperwork.

Although he said he did not want to be disturbed, your feelings are too severe. 

This feels like an emergency. 

You call him, wanting to at least hear the soothing sound of his voice. The Dial Tone rings once, twice, thrice… but he doesn't pick up.

You sit there, listening to the dull sound of his answering machine. "I guess even in Hell, I have to leave voicemails," you murmur, waiting for the beep. 

"Hey… It's me," you say into the speaker. It's a struggle to keep your voice steady. "I know it's late, and you have lots to do, but if you get this, could you ple-please come here. I just really need someone to talk to right now."

Just voicing your struggle is enough to send tears trickling down your face, and you quickly hang up the phone before you let out one of those raspy, croaking sounds loose from your throat.

Exhaustion courses through your body as you give up on completing the group project for the night. Perhaps when you wake tomorrow, you will have the energy to pretend your problems don't exist.

~

Lucifer wakes up with his head against the polished mahogany of his desk. A bit of drool wetting the surface as he runs his hands through his hair. "What time is it?" he mutters groggily, reaching out blindly for his DDD. 

He pats the empty surface and sits up straighter. Finding that his device is not in its usual place on his desk. His brow furrows as he begins to look through the mountain of papers, trying not to ruffle the organized stacks that he completed earlier before dozing off.

Minutes later of flipping and straightening, he finds it under the center stack and sees that it is flooded with pictures from his brothers, who look like they had a great, but expensive, night out together. 

It brings a warm smile to his lips when he sees their cheesing faces. But then he notices another notification he hadn't seen before. "Mc sent me a voicemail?" He clicks play.

"Hey… It's me. I know it's late and you have lots to do, but if you get this could you ple- please come here. I just really need someone to talk to right now." your voice sounds so weak and shaky it fills him with dread. 

How could he have missed this?

He stands abruptly, papers flying everywhere from the movement, but he really couldn't care less.

You need him. 

You needed him last night and he wasn't there for you.

He has to find you, hold you, and do whatever he can to make you feel better. 

~

Apparently, falling asleep after hitting an emotional low does not constitute the most restful sleep. Your neck feels stiff as you pull your head up from your pillows. The fabric is still slightly damp from your tears the night before. There's this icky feeling in your chest, but it doesn't seem to go away. It only intensifies when you look over at your desk, your unfinished project littering the once pristine space.

Your door flies open suddenly as a gust of air reaches your skin. Lucifer stands in the doorway tensely. He looks ragged, tired, and his deep crimson eyes are muddled with heartbreaking concern. You immediately remember the voicemail that you sent him the night before

You stressed him out; you have to fix this. 

"Good morning, Lucifer," you smile. But it doesn't reach your eyes. He can see through your little act. "I didn't mean to worry you with that voicemail; it was really nothing."

"What's wrong?" he says, coming forward, closing that painful distance with determination. His hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes.

It's funny how one simple touch has your self-assured act crumbling to the ground like a poorly constructed house of cards. 

You find yourself spilling every detail to him, your exhaustion, the group project, the ostracization from your groupmates, and how you saw that they were out at the club last night."

All the while, Lucifer nods along with your story, his thumb gently running along your cheek in a soothing motion. His actions are caring and tender toward you, but there is a fire blazing in his eyes reserved for someone else. You may not know it yet, but Olivier’s days of comfort are numbered. 

"Why didn't you tell me of this before," he asks softly once you finish your explanation. "Why did you take this burden upon yourself?"

"I was worried, "you admit. "I heard that Olivier comes from an influential family. If I said anything, he could cause problems for the exchange program that you and Diavolo have worked so hard for."

"Mc, I promise you, that little rat was greatly exaggerating his self-importance." Lucifer's hand rubs gentle circles into your back. "If anything, you have far more influence in Devildom politics than he does," he adds with an amused chuckle. "

"He's still a jerk, though." you sniffle, wiping your eyes. "Thank you for coming here to cheer me up."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner," he murmurs. "You needed me, and I let you down; please let me make it up to you today."

"You have nothing to make up for," you start, glancing back at your table. "Besides, I have to finish that project before tomorrow."

"Absolutely not," he says abruptly. "You will not lay a finger on that project since clearly you have done more than your share. I will make sure Lord Diavolo hears of this situation and you receive full marks on the work you have already done. I need you to know that you can rely on me. No matter how busy I am, I should never be too busy to come to your aid."

"I love you," you sigh, feeling the burdens lifting off your chest and disappearing into nothingness. "But I should've told you sooner. What do you think will happen to the rest of my group?"

He smiles and kisses the top of your head; as you lean into his touch, you don't see the dark look on his features. "Don't worry about them, Mc, I'll make sure they never cause you pain ever again. Now, let's get changed; I'll take you to that new cafe that opened up to Majolish and enjoy the rest of the day.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[rivatar]

Can I make a request for dilf!JakexFemale! Omatikaya!reader?

While Neytiri is out hunting with the kids, jake makes his way to readers hut. And let’s just say reader is shorter than Neytiri so size kinkkkk🤭

Guilty Pleasure

MDNI!🔞

Pairing: Dilf!Jake!Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings/content: SMUT, jake cheating(sorry Neytiri), size kink, stalking/obsessing, some roughness/power over reader, oral/face sitting (Jake being a pussy eating king), p in v, cream pie, dirty talk, a sprinkle of angst at the end

W/c: 3.2k (holy shit-)

A/n: thank you for this request anon!!💖 I am a SUCKERRRR for dilf Jake! I got a lil carried away heheh but I hope y’all enjoy this! Comments, likes, and reblogs are SO appreciated! Muah 😘

“We will see you later, ma’Jake,” Neytiri sweetly said while motioning for the kids to go out of the hut, holding up the flap of fabric for them to walk by. Neteyam and Lo’ak went first, throwing a hand up and bidding a short “Bye, dad,” with their bows in hand.

“Come with us daddd!” Tuk whined and ran up and clung to his side. He chuckled at her.

“I’d love to, kiddo, but I gotta take care of something. Ya know, all my boring adult responsibilities,” He smiled gently.

She frowned up at him but had no choice but to accept he wasn’t coming.

“Bring me back a big ‘angtsìk(hammerhead titanothere)!” He joked while bending over and ruffling her short braids in an attempt to cheer her up. She giggled at his absurd request and ran off to catch up with Lo’ak and Neteyam.

Kiri came moping out and rolling her eyes like usual, she was not excited that she was being forced to go hunt with them. It just wasn’t her thing. She gave Jake a quick “Bye” and walked out without looking at him.

“I love you too!” He laughed, “You’ll do great!” He cupped his mouth and shouted to her. She looked over her shoulder and couldn’t suppress her small little grin of amusement. She pretty much always blatantly disrespected him but he loved her to death.

Neytiri smiled one last time at him before ducking under the flap, following her kids to go off to their hunt.

Jake’s smile faded from his face once they were out of sight.

He had a lovely wife and an amazing family—everything he could ever want and dream for. But unfortunately for him, his heart yearned for someone else. Someone who occupied his thoughts day-in and day-out, consuming his entire being.

He started to resent you for how bad he wanted you. But how could he blame you? You’ve done nothing. Nothing but just be utterly and effortlessly perfect. He felt like you casted a spell on him, damning him to be desperate for you. You were quite the sight to see; young and beautiful in all your glory. He could worship your body all day— the stunning curves of your hips and the rounding of your breasts. You were short in stature, not tawtute short but very much on the short side for a na’vi girl. But that just made Jake be drawn to you even more. During his endless daydreams involving you, he would have some particular thoughts of you. Images flooded his mind of getting to manhandle you around. He was bulkier than the average na’vi due to the combination of his human DNA, so he had no doubt in his mind he could toss you around effortlessly in several different positions. He also inevitably thought about how much tighter your smaller pussy probably was. And fuck, it wasn’t just your stunning appearance— it was also the way you were so damn sweet and compassionate to others. You never did anything wrong, it was like you really were perfect.

He longed to touch you and pleasure you, he would die a happy man if he could just watch you cum for him. It wasn’t even that he wanted the pleasure for himself, more than anything he wanted to pleasure you. So many scenarios have ran through his mind of imagining how your pretty face would scrunch up as an orgasm wracked through your petite body. He felt like he was loosing his mind, he hasn’t had this many vulgar, horny thoughts constantly since he was probably 17. It was like you made him young again. He wanted to show you how good he could make you feel. After all, he was experienced. Whether it was keeping Neytiri’s needs satisfied or previous lessons from his sexual partners back on earth, he’s learned a thing or two over time. He wondered if you’ve let any of the omatikaya boys fuck you. He hoped not, but he was sure they were all throwing themselves at your feet. I mean who the hell wouldn’t?

Jake had been stalking you for quite some time now. He pretty much had your daily schedule memorized and he’s even learned all your little mannerisms. Like how you looked down at the ground when you laughed, or how you quietly hummed to yourself when you were weaving. Sometimes throughout the day you would make eye contact when passing by each other. He noticed you would give him a little smile. It was like you knew you were torturing him.

But watching you from a distance and stalking you wasn’t cutting the mustard anymore for him. Sure, it satisfied the itch at first but it left him only wanting more. And stroking his cock to you felt good, but not as good as your soft, dainty hand would feel doing it.

He knew Neytiri was taking the kids hunting today to let them practice. And at this time of day, you were usually in your hut. He decided there wouldn’t be a more perfect time than now to approach you. He couldn’t let this keep eating him alive, he had to do something about it. So, he gathered up the courage to start his way over to you.

…

You were in your hut, cooling off a little. It was a hot, sunny day in Pandora and you always take a midday break around this time. Right before you were going to sit down, you seen a figure in your peripheral vision. It was… Jake?

“Jake.. I-I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” you stuttered and shifted to face him respectfully, caught off guard by your leader entering your hut. “Is something wrong?”

He stood confidently, almost like he owned the place— I mean he was the Olo’eyktan. Which was why you felt concerned and surprised to see him, surely it must be something important if he took the time to come here.

He surveyed you as you stuttered and slightly fidgeted with a hint of amusement in his eyes. His piercing gaze burned right through you, making you feel small and embarrassed. But he was the one coming into your home, so why were your cheeks heating up in embarrassment?

He finally broke the silence and breathed out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m afraid something is wrong,” he spoke with that low, sultry voice of his and once again burned holes into you with his eyes. He took slow steps towards you, casually.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and the blood left your face. “W-What is it? I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong, sir-“

“Don’t play dumb and innocent. You know exactly what it is.” He cut you off sharply.

You were taken aback, eyes widening in offense. “Excuse me?” You scoffed.

He kept inching closer and closer to you and you backed up in return, scowling at him. But unfortunately you backed up against the wall, having no more room to back up.

He was eyeing you down fiercely, power and authority exuding from his aura. But you weren’t a pushover, and you gave it your best effort at holding his eyes and not cowering.

He swiftly grabbed your wrist and shoved your hand on his hard erection covered by his loincloth. You gasped, once more taken aback.

“Understand?” He quipped.

You snatched your hand back and hissed at him. You were unable to form any words, so shocked at this predicament. Your scowl deepened and your breathing picked up, feeling the intensity in the atmosphere.

He let out a single chuckle of disbelief and shook his head.

“You do this to me. It’s your fault” he snapped, “You’ve been torturing me night and day and you know it” he accused with his pointer finger in your face.

Your mouth dropped a little, eyebrows scrunched in anger. “What?? I’ve done nothing! You’re fucking crazy!”

“You are such a little brat. Sounds like you need that attitude fucked out of you,”

You couldn’t help the coil that twisted in your stomach to his words. The obscenity of them made your body react with a mind of its own. Slick trickled out of your hole, making a little wet patch in your cloth.

His nose twitched and he grinned menacingly at your new smell of arousal. “Is that right? The lil’ slut needs her pussy stuffed with cock?”

Your cheeks heated up, making a purplish color on your face. You were losing this battle quickly. You blamed your body for betraying you so shamefully.

“Fuck you!” You finally said. It was your last attempt at trying to get the upper hand.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “That’s the plan.”

You scoffed again, still trying to make it seem like he was crazy and you didn’t want this. But in reality, you don’t think anything has ever piqued your interest more.

He put his fingers inside the band of your loincloth, tickling the soft area below your belly. Your heart thudded hard inside your chest and more waves of arousal coursed through you.

He slowly and lightly teased the area, making your breath hitch slightly.

“Not stopping me, I see,” he quietly mocked.

Your let your eyes fall to his chest which was right in front of you. You didn’t want to see the smug grin on his face.

“Now what if I touch your little pussy? Is she gonna blow your cover?” He taunted some more. You swallowed roughly as his fingers traced further and further down into your cloth until he got to your soaked cunt.

He ran a finger up your slit, eyes dilating as he basked in the incredible feeling of your slick pussy. Your legs parted on their own, giving him easier access and you whined softly, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, seemingly losing his control.

Your half lidded eyes met his again as he ran his fingers through your folds. You knew you were at the point of no return.

“Please..” you mewled quietly.

Trying to regain control of the situation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, still continuing his touching. “Oh so the brat has manners now?”

“Mhmm” you hummed shamelessly, pride be damned.

He licked his lips and looked down at your pretty lips, just waiting to be kissed. But he had other things in mind.

He yanked down your loincloth and it fell to your ankles then you kicked it aside. Then suddenly he knelt down and hitched one of your legs over his muscular shoulder, much to your surprise. You gasped hard at the first stroke of his tongue on your pussy lips.

“Oh!” You cried

You grabbed his dreads for support because your knees already felt weak. Looking down at him, the sight was purely sinful. He lapped, licked, sucked, and kissed all over your cunt, slurping up all your juices and making a complete mess on his face. He hummed and moaned on it, creating vibrations which elevated your pleasure.

He pulled back only for a second, your juices falling down his chin and painting his blue skin with white and clear shimmer. “You taste so fucking sweet, even better than I imagined,” he groaned in near disbelief. Then he continued working his mouth on your pussy.

You felt so good, feeling the most ecstasy you’ve ever felt. You’ve had a few partners and of course masturbate when needed but nothing and nobody has ever felt like this. He knew exactly where to go and how much pressure to apply and suck at.

He stuck a finger in your hole while he continued lapping on your clit. You moaned and fought to keep yourself standing up. He caught onto your struggle and swiftly moved to reposition you both. He laid himself back against the ground and had his hands hooked around you, bringing you down with him to then plop you right on his face.

Sitting on his face was much more comfortable and you tried to hold yourself up to hover some, but he grabbed your ass and pushed all your weight down on him. You switched between watching him do his thing and throwing your head back, closing your eyes and welcoming all the sensations. All his sounds were muffled but looking behind you and seeing his still rock hard erection and watching his feet curl and his legs dance around told you that he was very much enjoying himself.

You knew your orgasm was about to come. The pleasure was coming to a peak and you relaxed and let it happen. You came with a loud and drawn out moan, thighs shaking from the intensity. His humming got louder as he licked up all your essence, drawing out your high but letting off before you got overstimulated.

You rose off and scooted back a little to sit on his chest, looking down at his absolutely soaked face.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed out roughly, trying to catch your breath, “you didn’t tell me you were a pussy eating expert”

He chuckled with that deep voice of his, making your pussy flutter. “You thought the old man wouldn’t know how to eat pussy? Baby girl I am very experienced,” he winked.

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness, trying not to smile. Before letting you fully catch your breath, he sat up and effortlessly carried you with him, you were like a little rag doll in his huge, bulky arms. He hung you over one of his shoulders, ass up in the air. He smacked it and you let out a little yelp of surprise and smacked his back in return.

“You are so tiny, ya know that?”

You rolled your eyes once again. “Yes, everyone loves telling me how short I am” you complained.

“Mhmm well I think it’s hot as fuck”

He set you down on the table and you were facing him, legs spread out and pussy on full display. His eyes drank in the sight of your most intimate part, being fully captivated by you. You then took the reigns and slipped off your skimpy top, leaving him even more speechless. You smirked in satisfaction at how pussy whipped he was already.

He didn’t fail to notice your shit-eating grin and quiet laugh. “Oh yeah? You won’t be laughing much longer,” he threatened while untying the strings of his loincloth, letting it fall to the floor.

And it did in fact shut you up. He was huge. Your jaw hung low like an idiot and he laughed at you.

“You’re not that big. I’ve had bigger.” You lied, trying to sound confident.

He narrowed his eyes and felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of someone else getting to fuck you. “That so? Well then you should have no problem taking me,” he taunted.

You were nervous about how it would hurt but you put on a brave face. You spread your legs wider and gave him doe eyes as an invitation to go ahead.

His bigger body hovered over your small frame as he positioned his cock at your entrance. He teased your folds and your opening, making you buck your hips up in an effort to get him inside of you. His cockhead breached into your hole and you gasped in unison. He was so thick and girthy, the stretch against your walls was one you’ve never experienced this intensely.

He sank in deeper, thrusting a little to help break it in. You winced and moaned but stayed relaxed and let him keep going. He finally bottomed out. Then pulled back and started thrusting.

Your eyes widened and your jaw fell slack. The drag against your walls and the pressure his dick provided on your cervix made you nearly see stars, clouding your vision in a bit of a haze.

“Mmmm!! ‘s so good!” You slurred drunkenly, choking on your moans and cries.

He grunted and moaned above you, keeping a steady rhythm as his balls slapped against your ass.

“Holy shit” he gritted between his teeth, slightly baring them at you while he got caught up in the passion. He squeezed his eyes shut and his head slumped down, hanging from between his shoulders. “You’re gonna make me cum too quick” he panted.

You moaned in response, loving how you were breaking him. He cupped both your tits and gave them a squeeze, edging both of you on more.

“More!! Please!” You didn’t really know what you were asking for but he seemed to know right away.

He pulled out quickly and swiftly flipped you over, pulling you from the hips to scooch your ass up against him. He entered you again easily and plunged all the way in making you moan loudly.

“Cum on this dick, baby,” he grunted as he then started a fast and hard pace, increasing it from the previous pace.

His dick was now reaching so far up into you and satisfying all your sweet spots. He was fucking into you like a bunny in heat, hiking up one of his legs and placing his foot on the table to have a better grasp on you and a better angle to fuck you.

“Fuckkkk!” You screamed, getting your cervix pounding into over and over again. You felt your walls convulsing around him and knew you were getting close.

He pushed your head down into the table, his enormous hand pretty much engulfing the entire size of your head. Your hair fell around your face and was scattered in a complete mess.

“Shit baby, you’re close, huh?” He groaned.

“Yesss! Don’t fucking stop!” You begged and whimpered.

And then you felt your coil snap. The waves of sweet release spread throughout your whole body. Your pussy’s grip on his dick tightened, making him cum right after you.

“Nghh- gonna fill you up” he moaned while still bringing your ass back to meet his hips, slowing down and milking out both your orgasms. His hot cum spurted into your womb, filling you up just like he said.

He finally stopped his slow thrusts and pulled out gently making you whine as you felt some of his cum seep out.

He stepped back to admire his work, taking a mental screenshot of your cream pied cunt. He used his thumb to gather what had dripped and pushed it back into you.

“Your pussy looks best with my cum in it,” he admired.

You rolled over to your side, completely exhausted. You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to lay with you now.

He got your message by the look in your face. “I’m sorry baby but I gotta leave now. As much as I’d rather be stuffed inside you, I gotta get back to my place before my-“ he paused, looking physically pained, “before my family gets back home.”

Of course, you thought to yourself, how the fuck could you forget? Guiltiness flooded your heart, making it physically ache for his wife and kids. You felt terrible. You never liked a homewrecker and now you were a complete hypocrite and felt like a whore.

“Yes, o-of course… I’m sorry,” you offered weakly.

He weakly smiled as a response, pain still in his eyes as the post-nut clarity washed over him and guiltiness attacked his conscious as well.

“I’ll see you later, y/n.” And with that he left your hut.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @anemonelovesfiction @property-of-neteyam @luvv4j4ybe11 @loakstahni @fluorynn @zafrinaxyz @live-laugh-neteyam @nonamevenus @inolaphoenix @ladykat73 (if you wanna be added or removed, just lmk!)

[sincerelyyuu]

"in the end, it's still you." p2. • gojo satoru & geto suguru

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: you never thought the day would come where you would have to choose between your two best friends. but how do you say goodbye to someone who became one of your reasons for living? ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warning: angst with tons of pining and heartbreak, sfw, heavy s2 spoilers, pet names, cursing, mentions of death ➼ wc: 3.1k words ➼ a/n: here's the anticipated part two of this fic! can definitely read this part on its own as a standalone, but highly recommend reading part one for the full angst effect ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

You didn’t know how you got here. 

One minute you were on a mission. The next minute you were a fugitive on the run.

When Suguru and you left for the village, you didn’t expect to be standing in front of a caged cell that held two little girls. They were twins and looked to be no more than the age of five. Crouching down to match their eye level, you saw just how disheveled and scared they were between the bars. Clothes tattered, skin covered in dirt, eyes wide with fear. How cruel.

“Hello. I’m (y/n). That’s my friend Suguru,” you introduced softly, not wanting to spook them. Suguru nodded at them in greeting with a smile. “What are your names?”

“Nanako,” the light brown haired twin answered in a near whisper.

“Mimiko,” her black haired twin counterpart responded after.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you smiled, leaning closer to them to whisper so that only they could hear. “Let’s get you out of here quickly, yeah?”

The girls looked back at you with surprise before a small smile appeared on their faces, nodding. You and Suguru were the first people to show them any form of kindness in this village. Unfortunately, their happiness was short-lived.

“These two are crazy! They used their mysterious powers to attack the villagers, right?” a male villager accused them both.

Furrowing your brows, you exchange glances with Suguru who shared the same sentiments as you. You both had already exterminated the cause of those incidents when you arrived.

“No, it’s not them,” Suguru exhaled, a hand on his head as he massaged his temple in disdain.

Ignoring his words, an older woman added more fuel to the fire, “My granddaughter was nearly killed by these two, too!” 

Nanako defended, “That’s because she-”

“Shut up, you monsters! I knew we should have killed you two as babies!”

“Watch your mouth,” you snapped, maneuvering your body to shield the twins from the vile woman. The girls immediately sought refuge behind you.

You couldn’t believe the words coming from them openly talking about killing the girls when they were sitting right there. You felt so sorry for the two. Based on what the villagers were saying, these poor children most likely hadn’t received an ounce of love in their lives. Instead they were treated like animals.

It was just like you to put yourself in harm's way to protect others with no hesitation. It was one of the reasons that made Suguru fall in love with you. It didn’t come as a surprise to him to see Nanako and Mimiko already taking a liking to you. 

Looking at the three of you, something in Suguru snapped. Lowering beside you, he offered you a gentle smile.

“Do me a favor. Once I step out, let the girls out and cover their ears. Stay here. I’ll come back for you three when I’m done,” he instructed.

“What? Why?” you asked in confusion. “Sugu… What are you about to do?”

He ruffled your hair playfully. “I’ll be right back. Now be a good girl for me.”

You looked at him wearily. There was something different about him right now that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You also didn’t like how vague he was being. Still, you hesitantly agreed. Satisfied, Suguru stood up to face the villagers in the room.

“Everyone, shall we step outside for a moment?” he asked, a sickeningly sweet smile gracing his face. 

You were prepared for when you successfully freed the girls from their confines with Mimiko and Nanako instantly falling into your awaiting arms. Instructing them to cover their ears, you held them close and placed your hands behind their heads, letting them rest their faces against your chest.

“It’s okay, I got you. You’re safe now,” you promised them. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

What you weren’t prepared for was the fiery blue flames that illuminated the village and the screams that ensued after.

A few days later, it was a beautiful day in Shinjuku. People were going on about their business as they maneuvered among the busy streets. The air was full of chatter with the hustle and bustle of city life. 

“I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are false?” Shoko inquires with a smile.

Suguru shakes his head at the female sorcerer, “Nope. Unfortunately not.”

Shoko takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing white whips of smoke that dissipate into the air. “You know what, I can expect you to be able to pull off this kind of thing. But did you really have to drag (y/n) with you too? Where is she anyway?”

Suguru fights the urge to grin at the mention of your name. Crossing his arms, he peers up at the clouds drifting across the azure sky. “She’s-”

“-right here.”

The two turned their heads at the sound of your voice as you approached them, a bag full of pastries in tow. You waved shyly at Shoko who was relieved to see you unharmed. You were one of the few female friends that she had at school. It came as a big surprise to her when she heard the news of your shared sentence with Suguru. It didn’t seem like you to commit mass murder. Then again, neither did Geto.

“There’s Ms. Partner-in-crime. I was just about to ask Geto why this little situation came to be,” Shoko filled you in.

You shift awkwardly in place, unable to find the right words to respond. Sensing your discomfort, Suguru swiftly answers back, “I’m going to create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers. (y/n) here is the lucky girl who gets to help me.”

“Is that so?” the brunette laughs. “I don’t get it.”

“We’re not children. I’m not holding out hope that everyone will understand,” Suguru responds. He glances over at you as you stare into the crowd and zone out of the conversation. As long as you were beside him, he didn’t care if no one else understood. At least he had you.

Shoko whipped out her cell and promptly entered a series of numbers before placing it to her ear. “Hey, Gojo? I found Geto and (y/n). Yeah, Shinjuku.”

Hearing Satoru’s name, your body immediately went into flight mode. Breath quickening, heartbeat accelerating, and anxiety swirling in your stomach. You felt like throwing up. You knew it was inevitable to see him when Suguru suggested going to Shinjuku for the day under the guise of buying treats for Nanako and Mimiko. But you weren’t sure you were ready to see him yet. What could you possibly even say to him after what happened?

Before your thoughts could spiral even more, you felt a warm hand slip into your left and the pastry bag removed from your right. Looking up, Suguru didn’t make eye contact with you, only squeezing your hand in reassurance. He always had a sixth sense for how you were feeling.

“Excuse us but we have somewhere to be. Goodbye, Shoko,” Suguru waves at her nonchalantly as if it were any other ordinary day and like he’d see her in class tomorrow.

She waves back and turns to make eye contact with you, an unreadable expression on her face. Before you could analyze it, Suguru gently tugs on your hand and leads you away with him and into the bustling crowd of Shinjuku. The two of you walked for a few minutes in silence before a familiar voice reached your ears.

“Explain yourselves.”

Stopping in your tracks, you felt a lump form in your throat. Your nails dug into Suguru’s hand, leaving red crescents upon his pale skin. Suguru tried not to flinch at the pain. He knew that this moment would be hard for you.

After receiving Shoko’s call, Satoru wasted no time and immediately teleported to Shinjuku in search of his two best friends. All he can think of is, why?  Why would you both do this? It didn’t make any sense. He needed answers and he wasn’t stopping until he got them. 

Among the sea of people, his eyes searched and searched until it finally landed on one of his targets. He didn’t need to see your face to know that it was you. After all, he had engrained every detail of you into his mind from the way you looked to the way you moved. Your name lingered on his lips, longing to call for you.

“You already heard from Shoko, right?” Suguru answered him back without turning around. “That’s all there is to it.”

Unhappy with his response, Satoru felt his blood begin to boil in anger. “So you’re just going to kill everyone that isn’t a sorcerer? Even your parents?”

Maybe it was the way your heartbeat was beating so loudly in your ears, but you could barely hear what the two men were saying despite being right there. You knew they were exchanging words but your mind refused to process them. Instead it focused on the way Satoru’s voice was plagued in confusion and betrayal. You and Suguru, his two closest friends, had betrayed him without a word.

“You’re going to kill all non-sorcerers and create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers? You know that’s impossible!” you heard Satoru bellow from behind you. 

“You could do it, couldn’t you, Satoru?” the black haired sorcerer retorted back, now facing the enraged male. “Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or does being the strongest make you Gojo Satoru?”

You felt a chill go down your spine from Suguru’s cold tone so different from the honey one he always used towards you. Was this the Suguru you’ve known until now? But then you remembered everything Suguru had gone through up until this point. Swallowing disgusting curse after curse with nothing to show for it for himself. Watching his friends and comrades die in front of him. You understood the shift in Suguru’s beliefs. 

That being said, you also understood where Satoru was coming from. You knew deep down that this wasn’t right. Innocent lives were taken to create a world that may not even be possible. However, there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. You were in too deep and if this was the hill you’ll die on, so be it. 

Frustrated with the conversation with Suguru, Satoru knew there was no changing that man’s mind. Suguru had zero regrets and had every intention of carrying out his new life goal. Shifting his focus to you, Satoru felt the anger clouding his vision slowly diminish, a sense of yearning overwhelming his senses.

His voice dropped to a low cry as he called out to you, “(y/n)...”

The moment your name left his lips, a wave of guilt settled into the pit of your stomach. You wish he hadn’t done that. In a perfect world, you would have turned around and ran into those strong arms that have held and protected you more times than you can count. You felt your resolve chipping away piece by piece.

But this world was far from perfect. You can never go back to the way things were. Still, you owed it to Satoru to properly say goodbye because you weren’t sure when you’ll ever see him again. 

You took a deep breath and stepped to turn around. Halfway through your turn, you felt Suguru’s grip on your hand tighten, looking at you in confusion and slight alarm. Were you changing your mind and leaving him? However, his tense shoulders eased when you squeezed his hand back in reassurance, communicating with your eyes that you weren’t going anywhere. Nodding his head, he let go of you.

What the fuck? Satoru thought to himself.

Watching the scene unfold between you two, he felt an insecure stinging pierce in his chest. His six eyes bored holes at your interlocked hands. An unsettling feeling gnawed at him at the fond look in Suguru’s eyes which stared directly into your own. It was the same way Satoru looked at you. 

Fuck. His best friend, Geto Suguru, was also madly in love with you.

“Satoru.”

Satoru could almost cry hearing you call his name. You took a few steps towards him, maintaining eye contact as you did so. He also took a step towards you but immediately halted when you raised your hand up to stop him from getting any closer. Standing a few feet from each other now in silence, you felt your heart break at the sight of your once confident best friend who now looked so small in your presence.

“...Why?” he asked, the tension growing thick in the air.

Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you replied, “You don’t understand-”

“Then, make me understand!” Satoru shouted.

Storming directly to you, he stopped so that he stood inches away from your figure. One more step and he could pull you to him and away from whatever this was. It would be so easy. He stood before you with his infinity off, silently granting you the opportunity to reach out for him. He never had it on whenever he was with you. He trusted you to let his guard down because you made him feel safe.

Satoru continued to interrogate you as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.  “(y/n), I know you. I know you didn’t lift a finger to kill any of those people. You would never take the life of another if they didn’t deserve it. So, why are you doing this?”

“I can talk to the elders. I can convince them to reverse your sentence because you didn’t do anything. They’ll listen to me,” he begged you, voice quickening with every line. 

“Is it because I’m away all the time? I’ll stop taking on more missions or have them assign you with me. Just come home.”

He was beginning to ramble now as he felt himself grow more desperate to keep you. Satoru was never the type to get down on his knees for anyone except you. 

Throughout the years, he fell for you hard. You had the power to render him weak with just your smile, the air leaving his lungs at the way you took his breath away. Your calming presence grounded him and brought him back to reality whenever things became too intense. It was the way you understood his thoughts and feelings before he even knew of them. You held his heart in the palm of your hands and right now you were completely destroying him.

Against your better judgment, you caressed the left side of Satoru’s face. The man immediately leaned into your hand as he melted at your touch, placing his hand over yours and seeking your affection. Brilliant blue eyes filled with anguish met your sorrowful ones. 

“Toru,” you smiled bittersweetly at him. “I can’t. The moment I go back, they’d kill me in a heartbeat. It’s too late for me. At least this way I’ll be protecting you.”

“It’s supposed to be the other way around. I’m the one that’s supposed to be protecting you,” he argued back. “Sweets, this is insanity. You can’t possibly be okay with this. Do you honestly agree with him and this crazy non-sorcerer world bullshit?”

You let your hand fall from his face, watching him grimace from the action. “It doesn’t matter what I think. What’s done is done. I made a promise to Suguru that I’d be there for him.”

Satoru scowled, “And what about me, (y/n)? Don’t you see that you’re hurting me?”

That wasn’t fair. How do you explain to him that you were doing what you thought was best? As the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, Satoru will always have a community rallying behind him. Suguru had no one. You didn’t want Suguru to live a lonely life alone. You cared too much about him. Hence, you promised to be that one person he needed.

Satoru felt like ripping his hair out in agony. He could feel it. He could feel him losing you. Any traces of anger slipped out of his body. He looked at you desperately, looking crestfallen and utterly wrecked as he felt hot tears burn in his eyes. 

“Baby, please,” he begged, voice almost cracking in the process. “I’m already losing one best friend. I can’t lose you too.”

Closing your eyes to stop your own tears from falling, you could only whisper an apology back, “I’m sorry.”

Satoru didn’t need your apology. He knew that you could apologize a million times and in the end, he’d still forgive you even if you were tearing him apart. He also knew that you were extremely stubborn and even more loyal. You had made up your mind and this was you saying goodbye. His fists went rigid causing his knuckles to turn white from the intensity of his grip.

“So, this is it? This is the life you’re choosing?” he let out an empty laugh, the smile leaving his face once his gaze met Suguru’s who awaited behind you. “You’re choosing him?”

Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his tall figure down to you into a tight embrace. Arms wrapping around you, he held you even tighter against him as if his life depended on it. In a way, it did. Breathing in your scent, he felt goosebumps rise on his skin when your lips brushed to whisper against his ear.

“This is me choosing you.”

Ripping yourself away from the snowy haired man, he stood stunned at your declaration and could only watch as you made your way back to Suguru’s side. The said male extended his hand back at you once more, pouting as you shook your head no. Vision blurring with tears, you walked past him and continued walking down the street to get as far away as possible, willing your broken heart not to look back.

Suguru could only sigh deeply. You just needed more time. Whenever you were ready, he’d be there every step of the way with open arms, forever set to love and protect you. Looking back at Satoru, he shot the distraught male a smirk and threw up a peace sign. Tucking his hands into his pants pockets, he trailed after you before you could get too far. 

In a moment of panic, Satoru raised his hands to prepare an attack towards the raven haired male. After a mental struggle, he ultimately dropped his hands to his side, fists clenching hard. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t have it in him to harm his best friend or else he’d risk harming you as well.

Satoru watched your figures disappear deeper into the crowd for perhaps the last time he’ll ever see you.

divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

[marvelsmylife]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Azriel x reader, feysand x reader (just a tiny bit)

Plot: in an attempt to get Azriel to admit to you that you are mates, Rhysand asks you if you would be interested in having a threesome with him and Feyre as a present for her birthday because she’s expressed interest in engaging in a threesome and had a small crush on you since you started working for Madja.

ACOTAR Masterlist

Azriel was absolutely livid at his brother and his high lady. He couldn’t believe that they would bed you, knowing that you were his mate. The worst part of it all was the fact that Rhysand was sending him images of what he and Feyre were doing with you.

The threesome was Rhysand’s gift for Feyre for her birthday. She had let it slip that she was interested in a threesome and had her eye on you ever since you started working for Madja.

It took some convincing from Rhysand part that Feyre wanted this threesome for you to agree. You were almost positive that Rhysand had made that up because you thought he was the one who actually wanted the threesome, but once he showed you that Feyre genuinely wanted it, you agreed.

And you were happy you agreed to it. You spent hours fucking, eating and drinking. By the end of it, you could barely stand on your own.

Once you knew the threesome was over, you quickly started getting dressed: “You know you don’t have to leave right away, right?” Rhysand told you while you slipped on your shoes.

“He’s right y/n,” Feyre added: “You can spend the night here. Come cuddle with us.”

“As much as I would love to, I have a packed schedule tomorrow and need to sleep,” you replied.

You were almost at the door when you heard Rhysand’s voice in your head: leaving without kissing us goodbye? You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes at Rhysand’s comment: “I didn’t think you would want a goodbye kiss.”

“Of course we do. We would be disappointed if you didn’t,” Feyre replied innocently.

Not one to disappoint your high lord and lady, you went over to them and kissed them each before slipping out of their bedroom.

You tried your best to be quiet as you tried to sneak out of Feyre and Rhysands room so no one knew what happened between the three of you. Unfortunately, as you tried to sneak away, the rest of the inner circle stood a few feet away with smirks plastered all over their faces. “Had fun in there?” Amren asked.

You were tempted to lie about what happened but knew they wouldn’t believe you. “Yup,” you beamed: “They really know how to treat a female right.”

The inner circle was ready to bombard you with questions about what happened when suddenly you were surrounded by shadow. The next thing you knew, you were whisked away from the room and appeared in Azriel’s room. “What the-” you whispered.

“You’re mine,” Azriel growled into your ear as he had you cornered: “I can’t believe they actually touched what was mine. Gods, their sent is all over you.”

“Azriel, what are you talking about?” you stammered out.

“You’re my mate,” Azriel explained: “You’re my mate. They knew that, and they still decided to touch you.”

[hellbornsworld]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS-11

🎀 Angel Eyes by @bunnyhugs77 - OneShot

Pairing: Patient! Jungkook x Reader

"You're such a bad influence, y'know? I can't believe you really almost made me do that." His bunny-like smile is on display when he speaks, "That wasn't me, that was your instinct. For a brief second, you just listened to your heart."

🎀 Falling Skies by @fortunexkookie - Series

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash. Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon had realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did. It was a twin thing. 

🎀 SNOW IMPRINTS by @2hightocare - OneShot

Paring: DILF!JK X Reader

What was supposed to be a family reunion, ends in comparing dick sizes.

🎀 Peach. by @hongjoongscafe - OneShot

Pairing: Professor!jungkook X Camgirl!reader

where his lust and admiration fell for a camgirl.

🎀 slow dancing by @yoonia - Series

Pairings: Jungkook x reader / Namjoon x reader

When your countdown appeared on your wrist right on the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

🎀 Magic Shop by @jungkookiebus - OneShot

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tea shop owner!jjk x reader 

you thought after three years the hurt in your heart for your dead husband would sting a little less than it did. in an attempt to clear your mind and start anew, you move to a small, coastal town. there, you find comfort in a tea shop run by a man named jeongguk. every day, at the same time, you come to the tea shop and soon start to fall for the bright-eyed man that listens to you pour your heart out. but the guilt settling in your stomach every time you think of your husband has you running from jeongguk entirely. do you have what it takes to let go?

🎀 bewitched by @jkabbi - Series

pairing: jungkook x reader

Former neighbors turned lovers, your enchanting romance with Jungkook takes a magical turn. A spell to protect him shapes your past, and now, as a flower shop owner, an unexpected reunion brings buried secrets to light. Past and present collide in a captivating tale of love and mystery.

🎀 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 by @pennyellee - OneShot

pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader

You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

🎀 nepenthe by @lively-potter - OneShot

Pairing: CEO!JK X Reader

in which solaris celeste vesper, a sad girl with an unfortunate upbringing meets a man far older than her and, within his presence, her sorrow fades into nothingness.

Also in which jeon jungkook finds the sun he so desperately needed in his life.

🎀 PREDESTINED by @keen-li - OneShot

Pairing: Mortal/commer jk x goddess reader

"You shouldn't be here" you say with a smile. Legally he shouldn't be here but personally you're glad he's here.

🎀 SX Seoul by lo1k-diamonds - TwoShot

PAIRING: Jungkook X Reader

You're back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes.

🎀 oxygen by @gimmethatagustd - OneShot

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x f!Reader

If you get caught, you'll both die. Jungkook wants to be yours anyway.

🎀 ALL AT ONCE by @muniimyg - Series

pairings: unhinged jungkook + shy oc

jungkook confesses and you're in denial

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ♫♬♪ ♫♬♪

[forzaferraris]

NOTHING MATTERS — op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! engineering intern! reader

summary: the best way to get over someone who broke your heart is to get under someone else and (unintentionally) break theirs. / inspired by nothing matters by the last dinner party, listen on spotify here !

style: primarily written with a single smau element at the end.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, smut, unprotected sex ((p in v) please wrap it before you tap it)), oral (m! receiving) finger sucking, sub/don undertones but nothing serious, i swear on my life oscar piastri is a grunt and groaner but simultaneously considerably vocal during sex (i will die on that rock), afab! reader, readers kinda uncaring about who she hurts because she’s hurt, reader is referred to as she/her, miscommunication trope, oscar piastri has been in love with reader since the beginning of the season and just assumed one-sided pining. authors refusal to write with capitals, you can pry them out of her cold dead hands.

faceclaim: sofia dirado, although feel free to imagine reader as anyone else.

word count: 4.1k +

YOU WERE NO STRANGER TO HEARTACHE.

you fear it followed you around more often than not, like a dark cloud that covered your entire existence in this bubble of heartbreak that nothing ever felt good to you, nothing was ever worth it. from your parents divorcing after years of suffering in a loveless marriage to every single relationship you’d ever been in never making past the first time you sleep together — you’ve genuinely felt about giving up on life, going so far as to consider a life as a celibate nun or maybe not, perhaps just the life of a girl who burns through multiple packs of AA batteries using her rose toy.

however, when you’d met levi, your first year of finally being allowed to leave the mclaren technology centre to shadow tom stalland during the 2023 f1 season. you genuinely thought this man had reshaped your entire perspective of love, he made love easy, made loving him feel less like a sport and more like a hobby you could never get sick of, being with hom felt like you’d been going through all the “firsts” all over again, like a cheesy romance movie monologue.

and yet, here you are, sat in your hotel room after the japan gp, suzuka has always been your favourite gp to watch and unfortunately for some reason, instead of standing in the mclaren garage doing your job, you’re sat clad in your team clothes (a stark contrast to the white bed linen) and sobbing over a text message paragraph explicitly telling you that levi has decided to break up with you after he fell in love with someone else during the summer break, someone who “rewired his brain chemistry in a ways you could never do.” you want to get angry, you wish you were an angry person, instead when you got angry you cried, when you got too happy or even just laughed too hard you cried, you were a crier.

your heart is heavy, as you scroll through the other woman’s posts, she’s gorgeous, and that’s where you begin your myriad of self deprecating comparisons of you to her. you doom scroll for what feels like forever until you spiral even further down the heartbreak rabbit hole, your attention drawn to the fact that levi had both unfollowed and removed you as a follower at some point between when he said goodnight and then broke up with you the next day. you watch as stories of their summer break spent together is shared and your jealousy sends you into a blind rage that you block the both of them; because ultimately you knew that he will hold her life he used to hold you — for levi was boring, a one trick pony you’re only just now coming to terms with.

your disheveled appearance and self imposed seclusion from the events of the day were not left unnoticed, you’d resigned yourself to just stand on the outskirts, occasionally moving to sit down and watch the screens as the friday practice begun, you’re uninterested, unmotivated and trying your dandiest to not cry, for the sole reason of simultaneously not wanting to draw unwanted attention to yourself and the fact that the mascara you’re bought at the duty free at the airport was most definitely not waterproof.

the good thing was that you’d be in japan for the rest of the weekend, the worse thing was you knew not s language lick of the language — sure you could probably call someone an idiot in japanese thanks to the sheer amount of one piece you’d watched eith levi during days he didn’t want to do anything you had planned or suggested; however, the single knowledge of know the word idiot in japanese will not get her very far. you’re almost too zoned out to notice the first free practice had finished, oscar’s team engineer tom standall dismisses you, tells you that whatever happened before you came to track is to be sorted out before it potentially jeopardises a race and without a word or argument against hai decision you shuffle out of the garage and into the paddock.

“name, hey wait — wait up” a voice you’ve only heard considerable muffled by a racing helmet and through large oversized noise cancelling team gear headphones when you got to play pretend engineer whenever it was during his practice laps and his qualifying laps, it sends a shiver up your spine, always has and you’re unknowing if it always will.

“oscar? hey! you did so good today, from what i say, p3 is so awesome how are you not more elated about that!” you’d found yourself smiling, wide across your face and sinking into the gentle rhythm of the conversation with oscar. the smile he returns is equally as wide as if his whole face were smiling, you want to punch him — the cuteness aggression playing devil on your shoulder.

“oh nah, i am actually it just hasn’t like kicked in gully yet, i’m waiting for the full body visceral reaction i’m about to have,” he pauses for a brief moment, hands itchy to fiddling with something snd find solitude in dragging one hand after the other through his tangled and sweaty hair. “like just, honestly, jesus christ and in japan of all places fuckin’ hell” he seems both simultaneously out of breath and ready to compete in a marathon.

had it not been a considerably formal setting you swore you can picture him jumping up and down on the spot whilst trying to contain all of his excitement, you allow him to be excited not wanting your own mood and misery to overshadow his complete and utter elation at his podium win. it’s the first time in the few days you’d been moping about that the smile you give off reaches your eyes and oscar’s always paying attention to these things, unbeknownst to you of course.

“your excitement is infectious, surely the team have planned something celebratory for you! you’ve gotta celebrate this i’m sure lando is!” you can’t help but practically beam, you’re mesmerised by the excitement the unashamed amount of happiness this boy is oozing and the bitter feeling in your stomach over it all is just barely going by unnoticed.

oscar shakes his head, overs a tiny shrugs and barely gets another word into the conversation you teo ate having before he’s whisked away by the team to be dragged off towards the podium, you watch as he shakes the bottle of champagne onto lando and max. any and all brief untouched moments of happiness are immediately replaced when your phones buzzes, a notification alert from your ring door bell and the video supplied of your now ex boyfriend grabbing whatever stuff he’d left at your apartment. the situation just breaks your heart even further than when with the whole of the mclaren team being called upon for s group shot with both the boys and their podium wins you ignore it and decided you’d had enough of it all.

the hotel’s quiet as you tap your keycard against the inside of your hand waiting for the elevator to come back down, the traffic from the track back to the designated hotel meant you’d wound up leaving just as all the other drivers had and whilst you weren’t in the mood to face anymore interactions you were lucky to bypass the small group of fans loitering in the hotel lobby. the elevator itself is slow, like most and the way your stomach drops at the incline is almost akin to how you felt when you’d first received that break up text at the start of the week.

if there was one thing you were thankful for, it was the fact the hotel had a bar just off the lobby, which is where you’d found yourself, skirt a little too short, shoes a little too high and too the perfect amount of booby that you won’t get in too much trouble but also attract someone willing to take away the ache in your chest for the night.

you’d been sat at the bar for just under an hour, occasionally chatting to some of the other patrons but mostly the bartender herself; the paper straw mushy and impossible to drink out of sits on a napkin as you sip on the glass uncaring or the lipstick mark on the rim or the smudging it does to your own lipstick — in fact you’re hoping something else smudges the lipstick further if the night doesn’t continue to progress as slowly as it is.

“can i get a beer, whatever you’ve got in the bottle and another one of what she’s drinking” there it is again, the chill on your spine and the heightened sense of the hand that brushes past your ear to give the bartender a bank card. every single nerve ending in your body is on fire when the stool beside you in moved and a body now begins to occupy it, perhaps you’re a bit drunk, you’d already had two of these and what if the different alcohol consumption laws you’re unsure how much alcohol is actually in the fruity little cocktail you’d ordered.

“oscar piastri, i thought i told you to go celebrate your podium with lando, why are you still at the hotel?” there is is, a tone you’d never thought you’d use with someone who wass essentially your bosses boss, which therefore makes him your boss, and yet here you are — sultry tone and lips loosened by the alcohol in your system, shamelessly flirting with him.

“well, you see, i’m more of a pub person than i am someone who prefers nightclubs and being touched and bumped into by random strangers, i fear that’s more of a lando thing than my own” oscar laughs, the way he’s relaxed and carefree shows signs he did however, get roped into pregaming with lando beforehand, the neck of the beer bottle sits between his index and middle fingers, a comfortable position one you're sure would feel weird if you so much as tried to mimic.

you fear you're done for when it comes to watching the way his throat bobs as he takes a swig of the larger, it's a japanese brand one you've never heard of nor tried and you can tell oscar hasn't by the way his nose scrunches at the taste, he still continues to drink it though. time seems to float by, growing continually more comfortable with one another to the point you'd sauntered away from the bar stools and are sat perhaps not even an inch apart in a booth in the corner.

"favourite race destination, so far?" "monaco. most definitely, melbournes a close second, but that's just because of a personal bias" "personal bias?" "yeah. . . you."

you'd never thought to combine the flavours of japanese beer and strawberry liqueur, and yet here you were, back-pressed and arched up against the wall beside a hotel room that not yours, the elevator ride was one stop too long to have it be that you'd gone back to your hotel room, hands, not your own, are roaming places never thought to be touched, the bluntness of their nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs has your separating from the kiss to lean your head back and full indulge in the simple pleasures received in this moment. arousal builds when soft lips find the pulse point in your neck, your choice signature scent perfume the most aromatic in that area brings a subconscious reaction from oscar, the thigh between your legs juts up and you also convulse right then and there, your own hands ove from holding the back of his neck to drag through his soft, product-free hair, tugging on the last few strands that slip through your fingers.

the beep of the room door unlocking pulls you to your senses, and a hand tight around your waist drags you inside, you cling onto him in the worst way possible, you can see the smudges of lipstick on the corners of his mouth and god, does he look beautiful. you're unsure for a moment, even if the alcohol had loosened you up a little, you still didn't know how to react around oscar, he's looking at you in a way you can't describe, it makes your stomach flip and you're eager, thighs clenching to distribute the friction of your building arousal. you want his lips on yours again, there's zero space between you, you're simply sharing each other's breath.

his hand finds the back of your neck, tangled in your darkened locks and pulls you back in for a kis, is soft, he must moisturise your brain supplies before it fizzes out, the kiss is messy, all teeth, tongues and spit. you whimper into the kiss, knees buckling, your own hands are on a mission sliding under the hem of his shirt to perfectly feel the warmth that radiates off his skin against your cold hands, you can feel the exact moment your cold touch makes him hiss into the kiss and it finally ignites the fire in your stomach. this is what you want.

you two remain lip-locked until your chest hurts and you've traded the same breath back and forth that it's completely died, when you pull away, you finally take notice of the blown-out pupils staring down at you. his a look entirely of lust, desire, arousal and it shows, especially with the bulge in his pants. your bottom lip finds sanctuary in between your teeth when you raise an eyebrow and one of your hands slips out from under his shirt to palm him through the cargo shorts he'd donned to wear.

if oscar's voice sent a shiver down your spine, the way he groaned at your touch against his bulge chilled you from the inside out, the noise rough and gravelly like he'd not uttered a word in weeks, it's deep and low in his chest that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't practically flush against him. your hand continues to palm him, making riskier moves as your other hand moves to dip your fingers into the waistband of his pants, you don't wait, you don't even need to ask for permission when his own hands are practically shucking off his own clothes for you.

he looks so gorgeous standing right in front of you, the wet patch you can only assume of precum on the front of his boxers has you licking your lips involuntarily, you try to ignore the voices, fight the urgers but you're but a simple girl, eager to please, that you're flicking your gaze up at him as your sink to your knees, the carpet is soft enough against you but you know better and are already seeing the red marks you'll have the next morning.

oscar looks confused for you in the briefest of moments, your nails dragging along his thighs, soft blonde hairs tickle your finger tips and you bite back the sweet giggle you want to let out as you're finally tugging his underwear down. a moment of shock halts your movement, eyes flicking up and down between oscar's gaze and his cock, tip pink, throbbing and leaking — it's a sight to be seen and you're the one who gets to gaze upon it.

your hand wraps around him, fingers barely meeting at the girth and you moan, can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth, your oral fixation working into overdrive, a single flick of your wrist has a louder groan rolling out of oscar's mouth, a quick "fuck" followed after it that as you once again clenching your thighs. your hand sets an easy rhythm, tried and true, one that allows for long strokes at a steady pace and your thumb to swipe between the slit on his tip that has his stomach clenching. his own hand grabs at your hair, both for something to hold onto and to keep it out of our face when you inch closer and allow your tongue to tease his tip with small kitten licks.

"fuck, fuck, name, fuck suck my cock"

the verbalised plea is all you need to finally wrap your lips around the swollen head, the saltiness of his precum mixing with your spit as you moan around him, your tongue swirls around his tip every time you pull back, only to resume bobbing your head and matching the movement of your hand to the pace you set as you take more of him in your mouth, your mouth feels so full and you can practically feel his dick pulse against your tongue when your other hand moves to squeeze his balls.

"holy shit — where did you learn that, fucking hell"

you smile when you pull away, uncaring of the drool that rolls down your chin, oscar seems not to mind either when he's pulling you back up to kiss him, your hand still stroking him slowly. he can taste his pre cum still on your tongue and as someone who'd assumed he wouldn't be fond of the idea, seems more or less enjoying it solely because it's coming from your mouth. his tongue overpowers your own and he's licking in your mouth with such severity that you can feel your own wetness pooling in your panties, had you been horny before you were now basically unbearably horny at this point.

your clothes feel bothersome, and your top and bra come off rather quick once your legs meet the edge of the bed you'd been pushed back against. the cool air of the hotel room meets your nipples and you gasp out once oscar's hot mouth chooses to settle on one and his hand favours the other. it's magic, that's what you can choose to blame it on, with the way oscar's fingers tug and twist one nipple all whilst his mouth and suck away on the other, your back arches up against him when his teeth graze the sensitive bud and you swear you could achieve your first orgasm of the night just from that alone.

his mouth switches to give the same treatment to the other nipple and yours that tug and pull on his hair only urge him on more, whining and desperate and what you want to happen is not happening. you need him, you crave him, you desire him.

"please oscar, fuck me"

there is it, the words oscar had been waiting to hear since you'd kissed him, and who would oscar be if not someone who listened when he was asked to do something. he sits up on his knees, jerks himself a couple of times as he watches you, skirt rugged up to your hips, a perfect picture, a sight for sore eyes, so beautiful, all for him to bare witness too. you back arches, your eager and needy and positively soaked you don't even need to touch yourself to know, your panties are finally pulled off and you hiss at the air that hits your center. you're clenching around nothing, sticky and sweet, eager, he looks up as your and you nods a final confirmation before you supply a weak "please" before his tip is aligning with your entrance and he's sliding in.

the stretch is everything to you, he is perfect, your hand stretching splayed out against the pillow as the tiniest whine falls from your lips, oscar grunts, face and chest flushed, you can hear exactly how we you are just from the squelch when he finally bottoms out and you moan loud enough that if anyone had been walking past the room they would have heard. oscar doesn't move, allowing for your pussy to stretch and get comfortable around him before you nod, rolling your hips to signal him to move and move he does.

"you're so tight, holy shit."

his hips rock back and forth into you, it's slow and sensual something you hadn't expected, your legs shift and wrap around his hips and your body rocks back against his thrusts willing him to move faster. unlike past partners, oscar seems to get the hint almost instantly as he pulls out and shifts slightly, hand holding onto your hips before he's sheathed himself back into you entirely in a singular thrust.

you moan out, toes curling and your legs wrapping around him so tight as if you'd practically become some sex-fueled boa constrictor. you swear his muscles are working overtime as his abdomen flexes with every deep thrust inside you, your body abuzz with electricity, the fire in your stomach scorching as a particular thrust has him hitting your g-spot and your back arching receptively.

in a world where you'd thought this was ever possible, all imaginations and scenarios have proven wrong already as oscar's thumb finds solace on drawing circles on your clit, causing your pussy to clench around him and a hiss to drag itself from his lips. to oscar you feel amazing and the flush on your face perfect evidence of his inability to be shy about telling you so and all you can do is ooh and ahh in return. something pulls in your stomach when he bottoms out in you again, your leg twitches and you're hyperaware that you'd just orgasmed around him, vocalising how it feels and your back arching however, his hips remain relentless only to come to a halt as he pulls out; your words are stopped as you're flipped over with a gentle tap against your thigh.

arms stretched out in front of you and your back arched, give oscar the perfect view to just take a moment to stare at your fluttering pussy, clenching around nothing as you suffer through a partially stunted orgasm. fingers drag through your folds and your body jerks at the sensitivity, the dip between them, pumping in and out similar to the rhythm he kept previous, his middle finger hooks and your face is thrown forward into the pillow as it hits the spongey feel of your g-spot, you gasp out hand white-knuckling the pillow as he focusses his fingers on that one particular spot

"fuck osc – fuck want you back inside me"

you don't bother with caring much about how whiney and desperate you'd begun to sound, throat dry from the gasping and the continuous noises he pulls from you, your tempting him, ass swaying as he chuckles, pulling his fingers out, he coo's at you as you whine to mourn the loss of the feeling, teases you as he slips the tip of his dick through your flushed red folds and bottom out with a quick hard thrust. you scream out, the pleasure perfectly combining with the sudden stretch to make the sweetest mixture of pain and pleasure you'd ever felt and to silence you, the fingers he'd just fucked you with had found the way into your mouth and if there was one thing you were, it was a good girl.

the sounds reverberating around the walls of the hotel room are borderline pornographic, the new pace oscar has set, deep and hard, skin slapping against skin as he practically bounces off you, his free holding your hip steady as your own knees buckle and you can feel the way his dick pulses inside you, the way his movements become sloppy yet still hitting your pleasure spot every time. the fingers in your mouth licked clean of your own arousal now replaced to be covered in your own drool. oscar grunts, his hips snapping against you in a final thurst as he slumps forward to press the most delicate of kisses to the nape of your neck as he feels you up and you cum around him for a second time.

it's messy, whatever hadn't spilt inside you now jerked off onto your back as your knees give out and you slump against the bed. worn out and woozy you're hardly paying attention to oscar cleaning up, the warm washcloth drags along your hot, sticky and sweaty skin in a way that twists your brain and brings out the regret that seeps into your stomach, had your legs not been feeling like they weren't attached to your body you would have scrambled to get dressed and done the walk of shame back to your own hotel room; however, you stay, regretfully.

you don't cuddle, oscar tries not to act hurt about it as you roll over and away from him when he finally climbs in himself. to you this didn't matter, you fucked him, like nothing matters. come the morning you'll be gone before he wakes. because this didn't mean a thing. to you as least.

yourusername just posted . . . ♫ nothing matters . the last dinner party

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oscarpiastri oh.

authors note: please excuse my smut skills, i'm rusty a lil ngl. i love a bittersweet ambiguous ending. if this gets enough recognition and asks, i'll definitely more than likely make a part two or even multiple parts. reminder, if you weren't tagged it means i couldn't find your account.

add yourself to the taglist here !

taglist: @iluminaya @therealcap @marshmummy @@im-an-overthinker @a1leexxa @chasing-liberosis @marauderssworld @nesssywrites @valntynebaby @larastark3107 @justtprachisblog

[sunny44]

Ruin it

Pairing: Max Verstappen x journalist!reader

Warnings: SMUT, cuss words, cheating and probably other things.

Summary: You and max were always teasing each other and over the years it turned into a huge sexual tension, until the fights of all the years and the accumulated lust turned into one long night of great sex.

Next chapter

Max Verstappen.

We certainly had our moments.

Max and I used to race in go-karts together with Charles, Pierre, Alex and a few other drivers from the current grid and he hated the fact that I always beat him.

Which means he hated me too.

Over the years our fights became teasing and a huge sexual tension that we both realized but pretended we didn't since Max was with Kelly and for obvious reasons she didn't like me either.

Over time I realized that karting was just a hobby that I enjoyed so I didn't invest in a racing career and went into journalism becoming a formula 1 reporter.

We were in Vegas for the first Grand Prix in the city and I was very excited, especially as today it could be decided between Max and Charles who would be the world champion.

The cars were lined up in their positions and when the red lights went out the chaos started, at the first lap we lost George, Magnussen, Piastri and Ocon.

On lap 34 Charles takes Max's position taking first place and me as a reporter who can't have favorites follow me too much not to celebrate in front of everyone.

Charles was my friend and I really wanted him to win but I think I wanted Max to lose much more.

But unfortunately in the end Max passed Charles and became 3 times world champion.

The podium was fast, the champagne looked great and now I was here doing the interviews with the drivers and finally my arch enemy appears.

"Well Max we can say it was a great day for you today."

"Absolutely, we were flying."

"How does it feel to have become Formula 1 world champion for the third time?"

"I'm very happy, this result means that all the hard work team and I have put in over the year has not been in vain and now I'm looking forward to having a drink and celebrating."

"That's great, hope you have an amazing night and we see you next year." He smiles and waves leaving."Well guys that was 3 time world champion Max Verstappen, I'm

Y/n y/l/n and we end our 2023 season, see you next year."

They turn off the camera and I thank the whole team and pick up my things leaving when someone calls out to me.

"I could almost see the look of disgust on your face, lucky it's only me."

"Don't you have a party to go to?" I ask turning around and seeing Max.

"We do and it's at the Plaza, your name is on the list in case you want to go."

"And why would I go?"

"To celebrate that I won."

"I wasn't rooting for you to win."

"I know, and you have no idea how much that motivated me to win." He says stepping close to me. "I'm counting on you being there."

"Your girlfriend doesn't mind you being here trying to convince me to come to your little party?"

"She's not the boss of me and she didn't come to the race."

"Got it, I hope you have a bad night." I say walking out and just hear him yell one back.

...

I was lying on my bed staring at the ceiling with a lot of boredom thinking about the party Max had invited me to. Obviously I didn't want to go somewhere where he was but staying here in the room alone while I could be there drinking and having fun was also not an option.

So I got ready and asked for an Uber to the place where the party was going to be, I gave my name at the entrance and they said I was in the VIP area which I wouldn't go because obviously there would be few people and Max would be one of them.

I went to the bar to get something to drink and I felt a presence behind me and when I turned around to see who it was I saw only his chest and I looked up and Max was there with those damn blue eyes that I could spend the day looking at.

"I thought you said you weren't coming."

"Yeah but I was lying naked in my hotel bed with nothing to do so I thought a free drink wouldn't be a bad idea."

"I have lots of ideas of what you could have done naked in your hotel bed." He says coming closer.

"And are you in any of them?"

"Maybe."

"Then put it out of your mind because as far as I know you're committed to miss I’m dating an f1 champion."

"Imagining is not cheating as far as I know."

"If you say so." I downed my drink and looked at him. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go dance and maybe find someone to take me back to my hotel room."

…

The party was great and I was sweaty from dancing, I went to get a drink of water and saw Daniel coming towards me.

"Can I ask you a favor?" He says taking a deep breath after seemingly circling the whole party looking for me.

"Sure."

"Can you take Max back to the hotel? I already tried but he said he won't leave unless he goes with you."

"Fucking hell." I say following him and see Max drunkenly calling my name.

"There you are." He gets up and almost goes but I hold him back. "Where have you been all party?"

"Having fun far away from you."

"Ouch." He runs his hand over my face, taking away the hair that was there. "Wow, you're so beautiful."

"Thanks, let's go."

After a lot of effort we managed to get to the hotel, I couldn't find his room keys and Max muttered something about them being with Daniel so I took his hand and we walked to my room, he was already much better since the city traffic was crazy and took us an hour to get here, he was still a little altered but he knew what he was doing.

"Are you going to let me sleep in your room?"

"Well I'm not going to go chasing someone to get another key to your room and I'm not going to let you leave like that either so it looks like we don't have any other option."

That said I go to get my pajamas but when I went to pass he put his hands around my waist and put his face close to mine.

"You're beautiful you know that right?"

"You already said that, like a while ago."

"I know but I wanted to say it again." I hated it when he looked me straight in the eye because I couldn't look away from those damn blue eyes.

"I hate it when you stare at me."

"Why?"

"Because I hate that I can't stop looking into your eyes."

"Good, because I don't want you to stop looking at them." He comes even closer. "Do you even know how hard I'm trying not to ruin my relationship right now?"

"Ruin it." I say without even thinking.

"What?" he asks shocked.

"I said ruin it."

Max and I start kissing and at the same time his tongue enters my mouth, it was a wild kiss that I could not separate even if I wanted to.

We walk without separating the kiss to the bed where he lays me down and gets on top of me.

One of his hands was on my face and my hands pass through his back going to the hem of his shirt trying to take it off.

He understands my gesture and takes off his shirt and he stops for a few seconds and just stares at me before taking off my blouse and starts kissing down to my neck and my breast.

I lift my back from the bed for him to open my bra and Max wastes no time in starting to suck my breast making me squirm on the bed.

He goes down the kisses to my belly and with his hands squeezes my breasts, he kisses my pussy still covered with the thin lace of my black pantries and soon removes all my clothes leaving me completely naked.

He kisses my thighs and starts massaging my clit with his fingertips making me moan and soon I feel his tongue on my pussy making quick movements.

He stared at me and the exchange of glances was what was making the environment even hotter than it already was.

I raise my hips giving him access to all my pussy and he holds my hips and leaves a strong grip on my ass, then he sticks two fingers inside my pussy without cutting the movement of his mouth.

"Fuck." I grumble trying to hold back my moans. "Keep doing it like that, that's how I want it."

He adds a third finger and I can't control any more moans, they are getting louder and louder.

I feel my legs starting to shake, signaling that I'm going to come at any moment.

I warn him and he intensifies his movements until I reach my limit.

He swallows my cum and continues in my pussy until he starts kissing my whole body, leaving some hickeys on my breast and going to my neck and reaching my ear.

"I knew one day I would make you scream my name in the middle of the night." he bites my lobe and kisses my mouth again.

I take off the bottom of his clothes, also leaving him naked, and switch our positions getting on top of him.

I sit on his lap and start to make a delicious friction in our intimacies hearing a muffled moan from the blond and his cock getting more and more bigger.

He holds my neck tight and makes me lie completely on top of him while he attacks my lips.

I stop the kiss and make a trail of kisses down his neck leaving some hickeys on the way until I reach his cock and kiss the tip.

When I was about to start sucking his cock, Max holds my hair tightly and starts making the movements himself making me choke a few times, his moans were getting louder and louder when he increases the movements and cums in my mouth.

I don't usually swallow, but this time I did it without thinking twice.

"How about you sitting on my face?" I walk over to him and sit on his face.

I hold onto the headboard, making back and forth movements while he sucks me and holds my breasts tight while I go up and down doing all the work while his tongue remains still.

He stops sucking me and I sit back on his lap as he looks at me, seeming to have an idea.

"I want to fuck you in a different way." he says in his sexy voice. "Face the window, I want everyone to see that you're mine tonight."

I do as he asks thanking that my room is on the second to last floor because they would never be able to see that it's the two of us.

"Good girl, now I'm going to fuck you, but you choose." He grabs my neck. "Do you want it tender or do you want a fuck with all the positions we can handle?"

"Fuck me hard, make me yours." I try to turn towards him but he won't let me.

"Your wish is my command schatz." he begins to fit his cock in my intimacy.

At that time I didn't care about anything, I didn't care that it was him, I didn't care that we were having sex let alone that he had a girlfriend that he was cheating on right now.

Soon he begins to give strong strokes in and out of me holding my neck with one hand as he squeezes my breast with de other.

He gets out of me and turns me over, putting my back against the window and grabbing my legs with his arms and fitting his member into me again in a strong and aggressive way.

The thrusts continue stronger and stronger and the only noises we hear in the room is our bodies colliding and heavy breathing.

We try to hold back our moans but every exit and entry inside me makes me want to scream his name.

I pull him into a kiss and he bites my bottom lip and still kissing me, Max leads me to the bed leaving my back against the mattress and him on top of me fucking me like it's the last thing he would do.

The last thing we would ever do.

Due to lack of air we stop the kiss and my hands go to his back leaving several scratches, I see him staring at me while I call his name.

I announce my apex to him who is also reaching his.

When I reach my limit and he continues inside me going faster and faster making me scream for him until he comes.

He gets out of me and I change position to doggy and he leaves a slap on my ass, entering me again and going slowly to torture me, until he increases the speed.

He squeezes my breasts and massages my nipple.

He pulls out of me and lies down pulling me to sit on his lap.

I fit his member inside me and start to ride slowly while he squeezes my waist and I start to move up and down when taking his member out of me, until we cum again and I fall tired on his chest.

He leaves a kiss on my forehead and keeps messing with my hair without changing position.

After a while of caresses between the two of us, we left and went straight to the bathroom, he discarded the condom while I went into the shower but he came after, I was on my back to him when he takes my wet hair off my neck and starts kissing him all over and turns me to him starting to kiss my mouth leaning me against the wall while the hot water falls on both of us.

He goes down and leaves a hickey in the middle of my breasts and goes down the kisses and penetrates me with three fingers, I put my hand on my mouth to contain the moans while he fucks me once again.

Soon he leaves a kiss on my pussy and goes back up making a trail of kisses through my body and he lifts my left leg and fucks me mercilessly.

With each thrust he says how beautiful I am and what a wonderful woman I was.

He bites my ear and my nipple in a pleasurable way, while his hands are on my ass.

He squeezes and moans softly in my ear, until together we reach our limit.

We shower together while he washes my hair and I do the same with him.

Leaving the shower, Max put on his underwear and I took his blouse and my panties and put them on too.

When we lay down he pulled me on top of him and soon he was asleep but I kept thinking about how we would react tomorrow morning after we recounted the conscience of our deeds, but honestly I wasn't going to lose my sleep thinking about it now, it was already done and I decided that tomorrow I would worry about it.

This is probably going to have more parts so let me know if you want to be tagged in the next ones.

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 18 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

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

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, mentions of violence, descriptions of smoking, ANGST, some fluff, SLOW BURN

words: 13.9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 18 ► if everything i said was true, then why am i paralysed?

You and Jungkook spent the rest of Rated Riot’s day off in your hotel room in Manchester.

People kept coming to check on you, including Minjun, who made a hesitant appearance but brightened up immediately when he heard you and Jungkook laughing just before he opened the door to your room. And after the last visitors—the rest of the Rated Riot members, who had accidentally knocked over a lamp and broken the wardrobe door within fifteen minutes of entering the room—had left, you and Jungkook found yourselves alone in the room again.

You both reached a compromise to lie on the bed and talk since you refused to sleep, and he refused to let you out of the room.

It wasn’t exactly a pillow fort that you’d built for yourselves—really, it was more of a loose, cosy blanket hut—but it still brought back memories of the nights you’d spent in your dorm room years ago. And after last night’s conversation, you couldn’t help but think about all the nights that hadn’t happened because Jungkook was trying to do something more for you.

Really, this was all you needed—back then and, as it turned out, right now: some pillows for comfort and Jungkook laughing next to you.

He rolled onto his side, and you mirrored his position until you were facing each other. Suddenly, you both had to strain very hard not to laugh again. But the story that had amused you at first—about Jungkook and Hoseok’s failed attempt to bake a cake for Yoongi’s birthday the previous year, which was another thing Jungkook hadn’t mentioned to you after nearly setting his apartment on fire—had almost faded from your mind.

You were just happy to be in the moment.

You felt dizzy from the vitamins you’d received over the past few days. And from the shower you’d taken half an hour ago. And from the fact that lying here on the hotel bed with Jungkook was almost overwhelming. It felt a little like you had lost an important piece of yourself—just dropped it somewhere absentmindedly—and now you’d accidentally found it, fully intact.

But at the dark corners of your mind, there were worries. You couldn’t help it—not even the star-shaped pattern reflected in his dark eyes could distract you from the inevitability of the Future. And of Consequences.

What did this mean?

All the thoughtful gestures, the well-meaning mishaps, the inevitable insecurities, and the constant presence of his friends that the two of you had talked about last night. And the bet, too.

What would happen next?

You were about to pull away and succumb fully to your anxiety, but Jungkook reached out a hand—his tattoos blurred in the shadows of your dark room—to sweep a strand of hair from your cheek, and you discovered that, despite everything, your body had not relinquished its instinctive response to his touch.

You felt your breath slowing down, your muscles relaxing. His fingertips gently brushed over the skin of your cheek, and the goosebumps on the back of your neck ran wild. You closed your eyes and exhaled.

Five minutes, he’d once asked you. Five minutes that won’t mean anything once they’re over.

“I feel,” he spoke up softly, and you opened your eyes again, “a bit like we’re back in Amsterdam.”

Hesitantly—against his wishes, really—he withdrew his hand and placed it on the pillow under his cheek.

“We’re, uh—we’re very far from Amsterdam,” you replied.

You didn’t mean the physical distance, of course. You meant the moments from leaving the bed in Amsterdam to being in this bed here, in Manchester—with your arm still slightly stinging from the catheter.

“I know,” Jungkook said. You rolled onto your back, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, even though your mind kept shouting at you to look at him. “But I’m scared to leave this room because I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

You pressed your lips together and ran your tongue over them. You wondered if his fear matched yours, or if they were two opposite sides of the same coin.

You turned your head. “What do you mean?”

He observed you for a moment. The lines of laughter hadn’t faded from your face yet, and you looked breathtaking.

He realised that it was much harder to admit things in the daylight than at night. Arctic Monkeys had made a good point.

“I mean, I don’t know if you’ll be okay,” he said. “If—”

“I will be,” you cut in.

He swallowed. “I don’t know if you’ll talk to me again.”

The look in his eyes was hopeful but uncertain, and you turned back to the ceiling. There was something comforting about the smooth tiles above. They didn’t make you feel like your chest was exploding into millions of little pieces, each with his name inked on it.

“I’m talking to you now,” you managed to say, even after your voice broke on the third syllable.

“Right,” he said. “But I mean about things that really matter.”

“Well,” you inhaled, “we talked about a lot of them last night.”

“Yeah, but that was—you know.” This time, it was Jungkook who rolled onto his back and clasped his hands on his stomach. “Things that happened years ago.”

“Yeah, but they’re new to me,” you pointed out.

“Sure,” he agreed. His foot twitched as he tried to find his words. “But I’m—we haven’t decided if that changes things. Not that I’m—I mean—”

“It changes things.”

He turned his head to look at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I don’t know what to say because my mind is just, sort of… well, I don’t know. What I do know is that I like being here with you, and I don’t want to think about leaving.”

Jungkook thought that feeling this way was impossible.

After the existential fever that he’d gone through—and all the cigarettes he’d smoked to stay on his feet—his chest and lungs and, really, about three-quarters of his entire body should have turned to ash by now.

But lying next to you and hearing you say that you liked being here with him made him feel more alive than ever before.

“I don’t want to think about it, either,” he admitted in a hushed tone, as if he was revealing a secret. “B-but—we—we’ll have to leave, though.”

A small smile formed on your face. “You sound like me.”

He smiled, too. “I try.”

You snorted and looked away. There was a time restriction on how long you could look at him and keep your brain functioning.

“I know we’ll have to,” you said. “But here’s a, um—an unconventional suggestion. How about we don’t do this right now? How about we don’t talk about the bet, or about us, or about what anything means, and just—let’s just not talk.”

He could do that. He could just not talk.

But it would kill him—having five, fifteen, even thirty minutes of ignorant peace with you. That was simply not enough time.

He didn’t just want an hour with you. He wanted a lifetime.

“Okay. So,” he started, scratching a spot between his knuckles, “what do you want to do?”

“I want,” you replied, swallowing your inner disquiet, “not to have to make any decisions.”

“About us?” he asked. The slight hint of panic in his voice made you tap your restless fingers against the blanket beneath you.

“About anything.”

The room lit up as a car pulled into one of the side alleys behind your hotel room window.

“Reconnaissance?” he said—not really a statement, but not quite a question, either. The name of the band that he’d loved so much suddenly sounded like the start of a curse. “Have you—have you decided if you’re leaving?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, almost nauseous from the sudden surge of stress. It seemed like every aspect of your life required your immediate attention and demanded an answer to a crucial, life-altering question. It felt like everything was slipping away—and you were trying to catch it all at once, and couldn’t catch anything at all.

You really didn’t want to leave this room.

“I haven’t decided how I’m getting out of this bed,” you finally said, your groan muffled by something thick lodged in your throat. You shifted your body to face him but kept your eyes closed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jungkook. I’m so—I’m just—”

“Okay,” he cut in hastily. He didn’t like the wrinkle between your eyebrows—he preferred the wrinkles by your lips. “Well, look—we don’t—we don’t have to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable. If you want to go back to work, we can do that. If you want to avoid me, then I’ll—well, I—”

“I don’t want to avoid you,” you said.

“Okay,” he said again because that was the only word he trusted himself with. Hesitantly, he added, “so… truce, then?”

You opened your eyes. “Truce?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s stop avoiding each other. And let’s just focus on our work.”

It sounded a little like another one of his five-minute promises—driven by the urgency to make it so, to drown out the doubts that this was weak. That it wouldn’t work. That you could never go back and expect everything to be okay without making any real decisions about anything: not your relationship, not your future, not even what you’d do tomorrow.

“Can we actually do that?” you asked anyway—and because you did, Jungkook nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course,” he assured. “We can do anything.”

You needed to hear that—even if it wasn’t true. Even if it was temporary.

Knowing that someone was willing to take the responsibility for a decision away from you was good enough for the moment.

“Okay,” you said. “Truce, then.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“We’ll talk,” you promised quietly, closing your eyes again. “Just not right now.”

You could almost feel the unease settling into a slumber deep inside your mind. It would wake eventually.

All the words, all the feelings—all of it had been left unsaid. Some of it unthought. But it was still there, hovering on the hazy edge of your subconscious, and fighting—the more you resisted—to break out.

But then Jungkook asked if he had ever told you about Taehyung walking in his sleep when he had the flu on tour last year, and all the anxious spaces inside of your chest eased. You smiled as you listened, and you had all you needed—and nothing less—right here again.

The next morning, you left your hotel room feeling a little lighter.

You haven’t fully processed—or adjusted to—the things that Jungkook had revealed to you, but you’d found somewhat of a common ground with him. You could tolerate each other’s presence with surprising ease despite the weight of all the decisions looming over you.

You returned to your duties as soon as you left the hotel. You saw a new text message from Nick on your phone, but you had no time—or wish—to deal with Reconnaissance right now.

At such short notice, the best solution you could find for Jungkook’s black eye was an eye patch. Fortunately, you didn’t have to go far from the venue to find one before Rated Riot started their soundcheck.

Even more fortunate was the fact that the band and the staff all found the eye patch so amusing that they kept making pirate jokes—much to Jungkook’s growing annoyance—and it distracted everyone from your fainting spell and the two days you had spent in bed.

The eye patch was black to match his outfit, or at least that was what you told him. In reality, the only place near the venue where you could buy eye patches was a costume shop.

When you returned to the venue with a dark costume bag, Namjoon happened to be passing by in the corridor. He had no choice but to become an accessory to your petty crime as you grabbed the eye patch and hid the rest of the costume in Namjoon’s suitcase.

There was no reason for Jungkook to know about the rest of the costume, and Namjoon—once he stopped laughing—agreed.

You figured that as long as the patch covered the bandages and discolouration around Jungkook’s eye, it would be okay.

Jungkook, of course, had a different opinion.

“I look stupid,” he insisted when you and Jimin were double-checking the sound equipment. The two of you wanted to make sure no damage had been done to it when the venue staff cleaned up after the flood.

“Should’ve thought about that before you got a black eye,” you mumbled half-heartedly, too preoccupied with the list of electronics that Jimin had handed you. You didn’t recognise most of the devices on the list and couldn’t even read what some were called in the awful lighting backstage.

Meanwhile, Rated Riot’s temporary opening act finished her set, allowing Seokjin to go out and prepare the stage for the band. Expectant cheers from the audience lifted your spirits as you followed Jimin’s list.

Maggie had been the one who secured this up-and-coming artist to open for the band tonight. Her name was Ivy, and she had tattoos of ivy vines all over her arms, which may have been the initial reason Maggie chose her. But as soon as Ivy started to sing, there was no question about her talent.

“Hey, Jungkook!” Seokjin called out ten minutes later, and you glanced up just as he walked down the steps from the stage. “Serious question: what has six eyes, six legs, and six arms?”

You guessed the punchline before Jungkook could even open his mouth. “How is that—”

“Six pirates!” Seokjin answered, and his endearing—and so contagious that it was almost ungodly—windshield wiper laugh made you chuckle as well. Jimin hiccupped and turned away from everyone, presumably to conceal his own laughter.

“That’s it, I’m taking this off,” Jungkook declared in frustration, reaching for the string that secured the patch.

You stopped laughing and jumped up, shouting a panicked “no!” and quickly grabbing his wrist.

He looked up, momentarily stunned by your touch.

“If you go on that stage with your bandages and a black eye underneath, the label will send us straight home,” you said. “I don’t care how much you sweat or how many pirate jokes these guys make. You’re wearing this.”

He pouted, exaggerating his reaction, but there was genuine discomfort in his healthy eye, even if it was drowning in black eye shadow. He knew it would be unprofessional to get on stage without covering up his wounds, but he worried the eye patch was a worse alternative.

“I look fucking stupid,” he said, and to be fair, he did look silly—to say the least. But you had seen him at the soundcheck. When he performed, his make-up and accessories faded against his voice and stage presence.

“You don’t,” you reassured him again. “You’re a rockstar. You can pull off an eye patch.”

He continued to watch you, his pout becoming more dramatic when he scrunched his nose. You felt a smile spreading on your lips. He had looked at you like this on purpose many times—usually to convince you that he couldn’t possibly survive without seeing you right this instant, even though you had to study for exams—and your chest immediately warmed.

You managed to nod again to reaffirm what you’d just said. Finally, he sighed and let go of the patch. You released his wrist and took a step back.

Just then, Jimin emerged from behind one of the amplifiers to your left. You couldn’t see the wide grin on his face, but Jungkook could, and he reached for Hoseok’s drumsticks right away.

“Ready when you are, Captain,” Jimin said and then quickly ducked as Jungkook tossed the drumstick at his head.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, ignoring Jimin’s laughter and allowing Yoongi to guide him to the stairs that led to the stage.

“Do you really think he can pull this off?” Jimin asked you as the band members walked towards the dimly lit stage entrance.

All four of them stumbled over their feet at least once, but you didn’t react—you’ve been their manager long enough to know that tripping before a concert was almost a good luck charm.

“Because I assume,” Jimin went on, “that he was trying to divert attention from his eye patch by applying all the black eyeshadow he has to his other eye.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, suspecting the same. “Up close, he sort of looks like Captain Hook and Edward Scissorhands had a baby.”

“Oh my God, he does,” Jimin whispered in awe and grabbed onto your shoulder to steady himself as his laughter erupted in violent waves. “Someone needs to get him a wig, so—so he could wear Captain Hook’s hat, too—with the—with the feather and everything—”

The image finally made you lose your composure, too. Seokjin looked up when he heard your laughter and approached to learn what was so funny. After Jimin panted through an answer, the stage manager joined in.

The three of you laughed so hard that you transcended noise and just wheezed voicelessly like malfunctioning dog whistles.

Suddenly, Jungkook turned to look at you from the side of the stage as he inserted his earpiece. You had half a second to pull yourself together before he lost confidence and threw the eye patch away.

Quickly, you raised your hand and formed an ‘O’ with your fingers to signal that everything was okay—even though you had tears in your eyes and the laughter of the two boys did not help you keep a straight face.

Jungkook had doubt in his eyes—well, eye—but you bit your lip and gave him another reassuring nod. Despite your amusement, you could tell he looked ready. And from this far, his eyeshadow didn’t look all that threatening.

As you watched the intense concentration on his face, it was hard to imagine there being anything in this world that could make him look bad. Neither the eye patch, nor the heavy make-up truly managed it.

Jungkook took a step forward just as Taehyung played the first note on his bass. The audience greeted the band with explosive cries that reached you at the back of the stage.

“I have to go,” you told Seokjin and Jimin while they continued to gasp for breath—because they started laughing every time they looked at each other. “Someone has to make sure the eye patch doesn’t fall off during the show.”

“We should find him a bottle of rum,” Seokjin said, and Jimin threw his whole body backwards as he laughed.

“A parrot,” he managed between wheezes, prompting Seokjin to clap in vigorous approval as his face contorted with near-painful laughter.

You were still snickering when you walked away to watch the show from the venue.

Fortunately, Jungkook’s eye patch stayed in place throughout Rated Riot’s performance. What surprised you, however, was the effect it had on the audience.

Unlike everyone backstage, the fans didn’t find the eye patch funny or ridiculous. They loved it.

Granted, you probably should have seen this coming. When Jungkook took off his shirt in the second half of the show, which had become almost a tradition at this point, the eye patch—along with his tattoos, dishevelled hair and messy make-up—did, sort of, make your breath catch in your throat as well.

But as luck would have it, you couldn’t concentrate too much on what was happening on stage because your friends—bless them—kept giving you worried looks. It was very sweet of them, of course, but you started to feel sicker than you really were.

As the show approached its conclusion, you realised that you were feeling slightly lightheaded, after all. It usually got very hot very quickly this close to the stage, so you weren’t too worried. Still, you decided to miss the last few songs just in case.

You returned backstage just as Rated Riot started their encore. You hoped to have a few minutes alone with your thoughts and a bottle of water. However, as soon as you walked through the corridor towards the waiting area, you nearly collided with Minjun.

You pulled back, startled. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Headache,” he said, holding up his beer bottle as if that was his solution to the problem. “What about you? Do you—do you maybe happen to have a minute?”

You were surprised that Minjun would need any of your minutes at all.

“Uh—” you glanced back, even though the noise of the concert was loud enough to hear without turning around. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he explained, putting his bottle on the table near the dressing room. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paused before turning around. “Uh, first of all, um—are you okay?”

Your polite smile seemed to hide a deep weariness. The corner of your lip fluttered treacherously.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m fine.”

“I heard that’s your default answer,” he remarked sheepishly.

You hadn’t expected that. Unlike Sid, who only asked questions to fill the silence, Minjun observed you in a way that Jungkook often did—with a quiet determination to get you to admit the truth.

Your expression softened.

“I mean it,” you said. “I really do feel better. Just a little dizzy, but I guess that’s because it’s really hot out there.”

“Yeah—oh, can I get you water? A beer?” he asked. You sensed guilty undertones in his offer; as though he wanted to do something nice for you to redeem himself.

“Water would be great,” you said. “But I can—”

“One second!”

He hurried into the dressing room and returned half a minute later with a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, its plastic cloudy from condensation.

“Thank you,” you said. “Do you want to sit?”

You gestured towards the couch, pushed against the far wall of the corridor. He nodded in response, and the two of you sat down in complete—and a little awkward—silence.

“So, was that… what you wanted to talk to me about?” you asked, unsure what to make of his discomfort as he fiddled his fingers next to you. He looked like he was about to shed his skin.

“No, um—it’s not,” he said. “Uh… I wanted to talk about Jungkook. I meant to do it earlier, but, well, you weren’t feeling well, and I didn’t want to—”

“That’s okay,” you said, hoping to hide your impatience with another polite smile. “Talk to me.”

You took a sip of your water, which was far too cold to feel refreshing, while Minjun collected his thoughts.

“Well—h-he fucked up,” he said profoundly.

You nodded, not quite present in the conversation because you were trying not to open your mouth and hah-hah-hah from the cold water like you would if your throat was burning.

“Sure,” you said.

Minjun looked a little thrown off by the word. Given the extent of Jungkook’s suffering after he told you about the bet and couldn’t convince you to hear him out, Minjun assumed you would refuse to even hear a word about it.

“Sid had a lot to do with that,” he added, crossing his arms and stretching his denim jacket.

You nodded again, still as nonchalant as before. Minjun was a little perplexed.

But really, you’ve already talked to Jungkook—and Luna—about this. Not extensively, but it was enough for you to accept that it had happened, and that you didn’t possess a watch that could magically turn back time and make different choices.

Sid had proposed the bet, and Jungkook had played along with it. It was done. And now there was no reason to scream or storm out.

“He always does,” you said.

“That’s—well, that’s very true.” Minjun looked at the ground. He knew what he wanted to talk to you about, but your reasonable responses had left his thoughts in disarray, and now his mind was throwing random, incomprehensible bits of his rehearsed speech at him. “Jungkook, um—he thinks Sid likes you.”

You were already nodding once more when you froze, frowning instead. “Excu—what?”

“Yeah,” Minjun said, feeling a little more collected now that you finally reacted as he’d expected. “Apparently, he believes that Sid pressured him into making this bet because of that. To sabotage your relationship, I guess.”

You couldn’t help a scoff. “That’s dramatic.”

Minjun arched his brow. “Have you met Sid?”

“I didn’t say it didn’t fit his personality,” you said. “I just said it’s dramatic. And unnecessary”

“Well,” he shrugged one of his shoulders, “those are his middle names.”

“I don’t think it’s true, though,” your answer was quick. As if you hadn’t needed any time at all to think if this was possible. The very idea that Sid liked anyone other than himself was laughable.

“You don’t?” Minjun asked. He didn’t seem surprised by your disagreement. Merely curious to hear your reasoning.

“No,” you said. “If he liked me, he would have done something about it. I’ve known you guys almost as long as I’ve known Jungkook. And all that Sid’s done in this time, is make my life difficult.”

Minjun lowered his head. Those were his first assumptions as well. Sid wouldn’t stay on the sidelines that long. If he wanted something, he went to great lengths to get it.

But on the other hand, if Sid couldn’t get something, he often acted as if he’d never even wanted it, and harboured a deep resentment towards the object of desire at the same time.

Minjun sighed.

“I think I agree with you,” he said.

You turned to look at him. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” he said. “I don’t know if Sid ever really liked you, but I think the real problem is that Sid’s jealous of Jungkook and everything Jungkook has. He’s inferior to Sid, you know? That’s how Sid sees it. And yet, Jungkook is in a rock band. He has shows almost every night. He has real friends, real talent, real support. And he has a girl he loves more than anything. All Sid has is money. He probably doesn’t even understand how it’s possible for money to matter so little.”

You bobbed your head in contemplation. Money held such a massive significance in this world. The fact that Sid had it in abundance and still couldn’t find contentment only proved how pitiful he truly was.

“I thought the same thing,” you admitted. “I always assumed there must be some tension between them now that Jungkook is more than just Sid’s friend. Or, really, his sidekick.”

Minjun nodded. “Exactly, yeah.”

You exhaled and stretched your legs. You wondered what Minjun’s logic was, since he knew what Sid was like, but did not do anything to rid himself of him.

“Why are you, by the way?” you asked. “Sid’s friend, I mean.”

Minjun’s sad smile confirmed to you that there was something more here. No one would have willingly chosen to keep Sid in their lives.

“I’m doing a community service to rescue Jude from his claws,” he said in a very serious tone. “And to leave Sid alone and miserable.”

“I admire your mission,” you said with an amused smile. “But seriously. Why?”

He sighed. He preferred the silly, made-up versions of his story.

I’m an undercover FBI agent collecting information on Sid so we can lock him up for good.

I’m writing a book on insufferable psychopaths. Sid is my primary research subject.

All of these made him appear like he had some control over his choices. They made him feel less pathetic.

“It’s a family thing,” Minjun said, closing his eyes and pulling the corner of his lip into his mouth. “I don’t...”

He let the sentence trail off, and you interjected softly, “you don’t have to tell me everything.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. “It’s just… stupid. My family—well, my parents—they’ve been business partners with Sid’s mum for a long time. She bought my parents’ company, and they signed some partnership agreement that was supposed to guarantee that my parents retained full control of their business. But, uh, you know.”

“They still answer to Sid’s mum in the end,” you finished.

Minjun clicked his tongue. “Yeah. It’s… they used to send me off to play with Sid, and they would tell me to be nice to him. Because if I upset him and it gets to his mother, my parents are the ones who suffer for it.”

“That’s—that makes no sense,” you said, lacking a better description for something that sounded ridiculous and, frankly, surreal.

“I know,” he agreed. “But Sid’s mum is—he’s her only kid. And she really, really wanted to have kids. I don’t know the whole story—I never cared—but from what I’ve heard, Sid’s parents tried everything they could for a very long time to have children. They have the money for it. Still, nothing worked. And then, all of a sudden, Sid. Their miracle baby. Their little angel. Maybe if they hadn’t treated him like he was king, he would have turned out differently. But his mum doesn’t even hear the way he talks to her sometimes.”

You tsked, unimpressed. “I’m not surprised. Nothing’s sacred to him.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t care about others. And still, his mother is ready to unleash hell if anyone wrongs him,” Minjun said, reaching to brush some invisible dust from his upper arm. “The ironic thing is, though, everyone in my parents’ company was very happy when Sid was born. His mum was—well, understandably, she wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around when she was going through… all that, you know? And I say that respectfully. She threatened to bankrupt my mum after she got pregnant with me and tried to talk to Sid’s mum about parental leave.”

You’ve never met Sid’s parents, but you’ve had the misfortune of meeting Sid, and it wasn’t hard to imagine where he got his personality from.

“Ah,” you said. “So, the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh?”

Minjun snickered and shook his head.

“Hmm, it doesn’t. But Sid’s mum found out a few weeks later that she was pregnant, too. And from then on, she was a real saint,” he said. “So, my parents were hoping that I could be the leverage if something went wrong in their business. ‘Oh, but our sons have always been almost like brothers’ kind of thing. That way, they won’t lose all their money if Sid’s mum has a sudden change of heart.”

“Fuck,” you concluded.

“Yeah. They would have gotten him and me engaged, too.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t, actually.”

A small, ironic smile had crept onto Minjun’s lips.

“I’m sure they’ve thought about it,” he said, looking at the bottle of beer he’d left across the room. He’d put it there because he didn’t want to drink if you weren’t drinking, but now he was regretting his manners. “Unfortunately, Sid isn’t my type. My parents had the decency to respect that, at least.”

You chuckled, and Minjun brightened a little, too.

“To be fair,” you remarked, “I don’t think Sid is anyone’s type.”

“Good point.”

You looked at the floor tiles and considered this. You wanted to know if it had happened before—something to convince Minjun that he should obey Sid as much as possible, or his parents would face the consequences—but you didn’t think it was fair to ask him to elaborate.

The way Minjun looked right now, with all colour drained from his eyes as he tried to keep smiling, it seemed like he knew exactly what Sid’s mum could do if her son said one word to her.

So, the two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, while shouts of excitement from the concert echoed around you.

“And, uh—what about Jude, then?” you asked after a minute. “Why does he stick around?”

Minjun didn’t make jokes this time.

“I honestly think Jude just doesn’t know any better,” he said. “He’s known Sid the longest. Their mothers were friends before Jude’s parents got divorced and his mum moved abroad. He just doesn’t know a different life.”

“You mean he’s too used to Sid to see that he is bad for him,” you summarised.

“I think he sees it,” Minjun said, analysing the plaster on the walls of the waiting area. “He just doesn't care.”

“Ah.” You nodded your head. “He needs help.”

“Lots of it.”

“Mmhm.”

That about confirmed to you that Sid had always been the problem. The poisonous leech.

Jungkook saw the problem, even if it took him a while. And Minjun saw it, too. It was just absurdly unfair that there was nothing he could do about it.

And then you wondered if Jungkook could do anything about it. He’d fought Sid and banned him from Rated Riot shows. But would that accomplish anything?

This was Sid. Sometimes it seemed like all it took for him to be summoned was just the mention of his name. He had to be at least half-demon.

“Kind of sad, when you think about it, isn’t it?” Minjun spoke up then. You thought he was referring to himself before he added, “that Sid doesn’t have one real friend.”

You grimaced.

“I’m—not sure if I’d call it sad,” you said. “I don’t think he deserves to have real friends.”

“Yeah, no, that’s true,” he settled. “Still, though. He acts like a king. And all he really has is just paper.”

You considered yourself a compassionate, caring person. But you didn’t think you were capable of genuinely pitying Sid.

“Did you come here to make me feel bad for him?” you asked. “Because if that’s the case, we might be here for a while, and I’m not sure either of us has the time.”

“No,” Minjun said, chuckling awkwardly. “He’s the last person you should feel bad for. I’m just saying… he’s miserable and he likes to make others miserable, too. Especially Jungkook.”

He gave you a look, and you turned away, realising that you were circling back to his original reason for talking to you.

You took another sip of water. It had warmed a little and tasted less violent in your throat.

“Yeah, well.” You popped your lips. “Pretty much everyone who knows Sid knows that.”

“Yeah, and I… I should have found you earlier,” he said, lowering his head in a manner reminiscent of all the times you had seen him avoid your gaze when you entered the room. “Sid made sure Jungkook couldn’t tell you, but I wasn’t—I could’ve told you about the bet.”

“That would have—well, it would have saved us a lot of, uh, time,” you said and gave him a kind smile that was supposed to let him know you weren’t really angry. But Minjun only felt worse after he saw it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He looked up as he spoke and the regret in his eyes added a deeper significance to his apology. “I was… afraid, I guess. I don’t know how else to—well, it’s not a good excuse, but—”

“I get it,” you interrupted. “And thanks. It’s not really your mess to clean, though.”

He didn’t think it was. Still, he felt like he had let Jungkook down.

After seeing you two laughing together in your hotel room, Minjun hoped that Jungkook had explained his decisions—no matter how backwards they were—to you. So, now it was time for Minjun to say something, too.

“Jungkook, uh… he made the stupid decision to play Sid’s game,” he said. “And now you’re both suffering because of it. I don’t think you should give Sid that much power.”

You contemplated this for a minute and gave a slight shake of your head.

“See,” you said, “I think Jungkook is the one suffering because of Sid’s game. And I’m in this because of the consequences of a stupid decision that Jungkook had made.”

“True enough. He shouldn’t have cared about Sid that much,” Minjun agreed. The pounding in his head doubled as he tried to think of how to phrase himself next. “It’s not really my place to say, but um—I’ve been friends with Jungkook for most of my life, so I think I know him pretty well. He’s—he has always been in love with you. He’s just… blinded by a lot of irrelevant things. And I think he realises that now. He was really shaken up after the bet, and that’s when these things happen, isn’t it? Something massive strikes and it makes you rearrange your priorities. Well, his priority is you.”

Minjun felt your body tense next to him on the couch. He had never said anything like this to you—and Jungkook had never soberly told Minjun that he loved you, either—but it was about as obvious as your warm eyes and clenched jaw.

You knew it, too. You just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“He made a really stupid decision,” Minjun reiterated. “And I think he knew that right away. Except you know Sid. He couldn’t let him off the hook, especially when he saw how miserable this made Jungkook.”

You hummed, incapable, suddenly, of a verbal response.

The shouts around you grew louder. Rated Riot were finishing the final song of the encore—and it started to sound like another band member had removed a piece of clothing.

“The bet and his feelings for you,” Minjun continued, “those are two separate things. So, I just—well, which one of them do you feel upset about?”

The anxiety in your lungs didn’t have much room to spare for oxygen, but the question still knocked all breath out of you.

“I—”

“No, actually,” Minjun said, closing his eyes and drawing back, “you know what? This isn’t something I should be asking you. I’m sorry. It’s something you should talk to him about. When you’re ready, of course.”

You still looked near panicked when Minjun glanced at you, and you hurried to respond in a way that would end the conversation, because the staff and the band would soon join you backstage. You needed another bottle of water before you could return to your job.

“Yeah. Uh, I’ll—I’ll see about that,” you ended up saying, which wasn’t much, but Minjun wasn’t going to push. “I’m, uh… they’re about to get off stage—I—I have to go check on them.” You stood up. You still hadn’t made eye contact with him. “We have an eye patch situation as you’re well aware, I’m sure.”

Minjun smiled courteously.

“I know,” he said. “But make sure to think about what I said, okay?”

“I will,” you said, trying to nod, but your head felt too full. You were worried that if you moved it, all of your uncertainty and fear would spill out.

You had hoped to delay talking to Jungkook about everything a little longer, but something in your universe was pushing against that.

“Thank you,” you said almost as an afterthought.

“Hm?” Minjun raised his eyebrows. “For what?”

“For staying with him.”

Minjun’s eyes warmed as his smile spread.

“He’s my oldest friend,” he said. “Of course, I’m staying.”

The usual lines of people waiting to meet Rated Riot at the merch stand after the show had tripled tonight. It appeared that almost everyone who had bought a ticket stayed back for the band.

You didn’t know if the eye patch had anything to do with it, but Maggie’s Instagram post with preview pictures from tonight’s show, half-jokingly titled “Rockstar Pirate”, quickly became the most-liked post on her account.

However, before Jungkook could go out and meet the fans, his bandages had to be changed. The intense jumping and sweating had not been good for his wounds, and the ten-minute shower after the performance had not been enough to prevent some fresh bleeding.

But that was to be expected. Some of his cuts were narrow but appeared deep.

What was unexpected, however, was his insistence that he was fine. He would just put the eye patch on and head right back out.

“Do you have any idea,” you scolded as you forcefully sat him down on the counter next to the sink in the bathroom of the venue, “what sort of problems I’d have if these got infected?”

You brought the cotton swab over the scrapes above his cheek, and he gritted his teeth as the antiseptic burned his skin. “It sounds like it’d be me who would have problems.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Maybe even sepsis. But I could get sued for not doing my job.”

“Hmm. And if I die?”

“Then I’d have a funeral to plan on top of that, too.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry my death would inconvenience you so much.”

“It would,” you said, pulling back. “So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t die, seeing as I already have a lot to do.”

He grinned, always thrilled to tease you back. However, this time, he took the opportunity when you weren’t looking at him to ask, “how are you feeling?”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, equally as determined to insist that you were okay and that the last two days hadn’t happened.

“I’m fine, of course,” you said.

“Of course,” he repeated dryly.

“I really mean it,” you said as you struggled to open the glass bottle of ointment. Jungkook had informed you earlier that the nurses at the hospital ‘had used something similar’ when he went there the other day, so you felt a bit more confident about this procedure. “I got eight hours of sleep two nights in a row. That’s unheard of.”

“I’m glad,” he said.

You finally got the bottle to open. Jungkook frowned and drew back.

“Well, can you be glad without moving?” you asked, approaching him with the ointment and a few cotton pads. You’d hoped the antiseptic had soaked into his skin by now. You didn’t have time to wait.

“Is that even necessary?” he asked, pouting and pulling his head back until he hit the mirror behind him. “This stings like a bitch.”

You were nearly leaning over him with all your weight to reach his face. One of your palms pressed into his thigh as you fought to keep your balance, and Jungkook stilled, but did not shut up.

“T-the cuts are not getting infected,” he insisted. He paused and bit into his lip ring when you exhaled and he discovered that he could feel your breath against his cheek. As soon as he realised that he didn’t actually pass out for a minute there, he continued, “do I really need bandages if I wear the eye patch? I personally think I’m—”

“You’re sweating under it,” you cut him off, your eyes narrowed in concentration as you traced the cuts on his cheekbone with the pad. You continued to speak distractedly, “and it’s a rental, in any case. You can’t put that on a bare wound.”

He blinked and jerked his head to the side, nearly causing you to topple over him.

“Jungkook, come on—”

“It’s a rental?” he repeated, his face twisted in a comical expression of disbelief. “How—how do you mean?”

You sighed. You shouldn’t have let that slip.

“I’m sure they disinfect the costumes after they’re returned, so, don’t worry about that,” you said. “Now please—”

“It’s part of a costume?!” he shouted, but you grabbed the back of his neck with your free hand to keep him in place. He felt a sudden shiver ripple down his spine. “Wait, w-what—a-am I a joke to you?”

The corners of your lips quivered as you tried to resist a smirk. You dabbed the cotton pad onto the bruise around his eye and did not speak until you finished applying the ointment to every cut and scrape you could see.

“No,” you said then. “You’re not very funny.”

Locked in place by your cold hands on the back of his neck, Jungkook realised he did not have any reflexes left whatsoever. He did not have much of anything, to be honest, aside from a severe case of hot, violent wings in his stomach.

“Not very f—I’ll—oh, I’ll show you funny,” he finally managed.

He grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. Surprised—and, honestly, amused—you tried to pull back from him, but found yourself trapped in his grip as he jumped off the counter.

You pressed your lips together to stifle a laugh. He tried very hard to glare at you, but his lips were pursed in an obvious attempt not to smile back and his cheeks were tinted with the softest shade of pink.

A part of you was glad, actually, that he was restraining you right now because you weren’t sure if you would have found it in yourself to resist the urge to bring your hand over his flushed cheeks.

After a loaded minute, Jungkook finally released you and shook his head, turning his back to you in a dramatic demonstration of defiance.

“Jungkook,” you said. He could hear the playful lilt in your voice. “Come on, sit down. I’m almost done.”

“I’m wearing a pirate costume!” he protested.

“You’re not wearing a costume. It’s just an eye patch. Sit down.”

He shook his head again, but turned around, mustering as much irritation as he could. You were smiling and he was hardly capable of being angry about that.

“I look like Jack Sparrow’s long-lost, half-blind cousin,” he accused half-heartedly.

He looked almost scandalised when you laughed at this.

“You wish,” you teased, peeling off the adhesive tape from the new bandages that Namjoon was kind enough to buy earlier in the day.

“Excuse me?” Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “Now you’re going to tell me I’m not good enough to be related to Jack Sparrow?”

You were glad he did not move when you approached him again and carefully applied the adhesive pad to his bruises.

“That’s Captain Jack Sparrow,” you said.

He glowered, but his image crumbled the second he saw your grin.

“You nerd,” he said, breaking off into a soft laugh. His eyes were fixed on you as you gently tapped the edges of the bandages to make sure they stayed in place.

“Hey, now,” you warned, pulling back to give him a look that was about as stern as your tentative touch. “You’re the one who forced me to watch the films.”

Jungkook felt his smile spread—impossibly so. He thought he looked a little like one-eyed Joker now as he remembered watching films in your dorm room. He remembered how the two of you had complained about the slow wi-fi, which kept reducing the film quality to 240p. Remembered pretending not to cry when one half of the couple in the film died. Remembered getting distracted by the look in your eyes as you got immersed in the plot. Remembered kissing you. Remembered making you smile as you gently pushed his chest away and told him to ‘look at the screen.’

And then he remembered where he was now, and the dim bathroom brightened under your smile as you packed up your medical kit.

“Hey, so, um…” He swallowed, watching you walk away to dispose of the waste. “Can we talk, then? Later?”

Your head was still heavy, and you had a startling realisation that the only time the weight on your shoulders lightened was when you were with Jungkook—when you were smiling at each other like middle-schoolers on a clumsy first date.

“We’ll talk,” you said while trying to quiet down your thoughts that insisted that this moment here was a sign. That this was the decision. “When the time is right.”

Jungkook looked almost ready to protest, but then he realised you were teasing him for having said the same thing to you before.

He remembered how that conversation went—he remembered everything and with such clarity that his palms tingled and his heart pounded.

“3 AM, then?” he asked, grinning. “Will you come find me?”

You smiled back. “I’ll come find you.”

When the members of Rated Riot returned backstage after meeting fans, the drinks had already been finished. Everyone was leaving for the bus.

Jungkook knew better than to stay in the dressing room by himself—despite having banned Sid from his shows and being across the continent from him—so he asked Taehyung to wait for him.

Then, as he was unplugging his charger by the bathroom door, his phone vibrated with a text message—from Jude, of all people. Throughout their friendship, Jungkook didn’t think Jude had ever texted him personally, and not in their groupchat.

The text read, “come outside to the smoking area? Sid is fuming bc he can’t enter the venue.. gotta talk.”

Right away, Jungkook felt a sense of unease in the pit of his stomach.

He’d kicked Sid out in Cologne. What the fuck was he doing in Manchester?

For a brief moment, Jungkook toyed with the possibility of saying he was busy. He did have to return to the bus in case you would look for him, after all. However, he knew that not answering Sid’s call—because, really, Jude was just the proxy here—could have ugly consequences.

Why’d he fly to the UK? What was wrong with him?

It wasn’t that Jungkook felt afraid of him. He was annoyed more than anything—he’d blacklisted Sid, and still couldn’t escape him.

But Jungkook was afraid of the impact that his inescapable connection to Sid could have on you and your relationship.

“You know what?” he said, raising his head to look at Taehyung. “Maybe you should go ahead without me. There’s something I need to take care of first.”

Taehyung glanced at the younger member’s phone, then back at his face. “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing,” Jungkook said as he typed back a “K” to Jude. “It’ll just be a second.”

Taehyung merely shrugged. This reaction was so casual that Jungkook automatically assumed it to mean that the older member was going back to the bus.

“I can wait then,” Taehyung said instead.

Jungkook did a surprised double-take before he put his phone away. He realised suddenly that he was embarrassed for Taehyung to witness whatever would happen in the smoking area.

“No, it’s—I have to talk to Jude,” he said, hoping that the name would deter him, but the older boy stood his ground even more firmly.

“All the more reason for me to stay with you,” he said, making it clear that one black eye was already too much.

Jungkook knew they could continue to argue about this while Sid raged outside the venue. And he knew that if he refused Taehyung’s company again, the older boy might seek you out instead.

“Okay,” Jungkook decided. “That’s fine. You can wait here. Jude’s right outside in the smoking area, so—”

“Great,” Taehyung said, taking the first step towards the door of the dressing room. “I’ll come with.”

Jungkook watched him open the door. “Why? For the fresh air?”

His bandmate gave him a sarcastic half-smile. “To make sure you won’t need a whole blindfold for your performance tomorrow.”

Aware that he’d been outwitted, Jungkook rolled his eyes and left the dressing room with a protective Taehyung following behind him.

Sid, Jude, and Minjun were all gathered in the smoking area. Sid and Jude were standing tall—with Sid towering over the other boys, of course—while Minjun looked more like he was crouching. His eyes were downcast, and his posture reflected his wish to be anywhere but here.

Fortunately, Mick, the head of security, was there, too.

“What’s going on here?” Jungkook asked, his voice surprisingly firm—as if these people had never been his friends.

“This gentleman refuses to leave,” Mick reported, casting a scornful glance at Sid. Sid, in turn, responded by raising his middle finger. “I think that calling the police will resolve this issue faster.”

Jungkook would have loved to see Sid in the back of a police car.

But he was worried that this would only cause you more problems with the label. The executives were okay with Rated Riot embodying the rockstar stereotypes, but they probably wouldn’t approve of any police involvement.

On the other hand... why not get rid of Sid once and for all? If he continued to preach his truth without listening to anyone else, it might do him good to spend the night at the station. And if he was high, too, or happened to have something on him—both were likely, Jungkook decided when he glanced at the pockets of Sid’s puffy jacket—then he might stay in a cell for a while longer.

“Give me a minute, Mick, please,” Jungkook asked, taking out his phone. He’d decided to try to handle this quietly, but he still wanted the option of calling the police.

Mick looked at Taehyung for confirmation—which irked Jungkook, because he didn’t like being reminded of his young age and relative lack of authority here.

After Taehyung nodded, the bodyguard turned back to the vocalist.

“Alright,” Mick said. “I’ll be right inside.”

Minjun raised his eyes suddenly, and Jungkook expected to see relief on his face. He saw anxiety instead. Minjun regretted that Jungkook was getting involved again.

After Mick left, Sid finally stepped into the light from the neon sign above the exit. Immediately, Jungkook started to feel more confident about his eye patch, because Sid’s face was red, black, and blue, and so swollen that he could have auditioned for the role of the pumpkin in Cinderella.

“You have one minute to state your business and get your ass out of here,” Jungkook told him. “Or I’m calling the cops.”

Sid scoffed. Challenged by the doubt in his eyes, Jungkook unlocked his phone.

“I’ll pretend I don’t know that you’ve blacklisted me,” Sid snapped, ignoring Taehyung’s presence—which was alarming, because that had never happened before. Sid typically only showed his true self to those closest to him. Or to total strangers. “But it has come to my attention that Minjun broke the rules of the bet, and I can’t ignore that.”

Of course, Jungkook thought. Of course, he would follow him to a different country, even after their fight. Sid thought they had unfinished business.

“Technically,” Minjun said, “the rules don’t apply to me, seeing as I’m—”

“Seeing as you’re the one supposed to enforce the fucking rules,” Sid finished for him, feral rage dripping from every single word he spoke. “What should I make of that, hm? You’re picking sides?”

“I’m not—”

“Your parents won’t like that, I’m sure,” Sid added because he couldn’t help but always assert his dominance with veiled threats.

Minjun clenched his jaw. He remembered the repulsion in your eyes when he told you about this earlier. He felt himself gain strength from your reaction.

“Grow some balls,” he rasped, “and keep our parents out of the shit that you pull. We’re not in kindergarten.”

Sid narrowed his eyes and took a threatening step closer to him.

Meanwhile, Jude leaned over Jungkook to provide an unnecessary explanation, “Sid knows Minjun gave you back the keys.”

Jude smelled of booze and of something intentionally sweet. Ignoring him, Jungkook kept his gaze on Sid.

“It’s just a bet, dude,” Jungkook said before Sid decided to raise a fist. Minjun had never fought anyone before. Jungkook didn’t like his friend’s odds. “Let it go.”

Sid turned his head in what seemed like dramatic slow motion.

If there was a worse thing that Jungkook could have said, he hadn’t found it yet—Sid looked about ready to bite his head straight off and tear it into little pieces before feeding the remains to baby cheetahs or whatever scavengers he undoubtedly raised in the backyard of his family’s mansion.

“That narrative works out awfully well in your favour, doesn’t it?” Sid sneered. “Considering you walk out of here with the girl, after all, hmm?”

“The girl,” Jungkook countered, “was mine to begin with.”

Sid laughed, throwing his head back. “You were ready to give her up for a game just a few weeks ago!”

Jungkook clenched his fists. He couldn’t help but notice that it was “the girl” in particular that Sid brought up as unfair.

Taehyung watched the younger boy’s body language. He knew what might happen next: Jungkook had nothing to say to that, so he seemed intent on shifting the conversation to a more physical level. A level that would likely result in more black eyes and knocked-out teeth.

God, when did he and Luna become babysitters?

He let out a sigh and took a step forward. “We should go, Jungkook. The bus is leaving soon.”

Grounded by his voice, Jungkook glanced at the older member. Taehyung nodded and Jungkook took a deep breath to relax his muscles. He turned around.

There was no point to any of this. He had nothing left to prove to Sid.

“Oh, that’s right,” Sid called out as soon as Jungkook started to walk away. “You don’t have shit to say, so you leave. Fucking typical. Once a loser, always a loser.”

Like any rational person, Taehyung groaned and opened his mouth to suggest calling the police since Sid clearly didn’t want to go away quietly.

But the older member wasn’t able to react quickly enough when Jungkook suddenly whipped around and marched back towards Sid, his expression not just determined, but downright murderous.

Minjun widened his eyes and stepped into the gap between the two boys.

“Drop it, Sid,” he said, facing away from Jungkook. His voice sounded nervous, but he pushed Sid’s chest to prompt him to take a step back.

Sid stepped back—and then took another step to give the impression that he had pulled away voluntarily.

“Why should I be the one to drop it?” he demanded.

“Because you’re the only one who still cares about it,” Minjun said.

“And I’m one part of the bet,” Sid argued. “So, it’s hardly fair, isn’t it? I won the bike.”

Jungkook calmed down when he lost sight of Sid. Instead, he noted that Jude hadn’t objected once.

Technically, three people had made the bet, but Jude seemed to consider himself part of Sid now. Or he simply didn’t care about being involved anymore.

Taehyung lingered by the door, keeping quiet as Minjun handled the unfolding situation.

It was difficult not to say anything, however, because they seemed keen on having a discussion here, yet no one was bringing up the thing that seemed the most obvious to Taehyung: the real reason why Sid cared about the Katana so much, considering that he could have easily bought twenty of them if he wanted.

Just then, Jungkook chuckled sardonically.

“You just want to win for the sake of winning,” he said, giving Minjun a grateful pat on the back and stepping out from behind him.

Taehyung was taken aback by the statement. He had assumed—perhaps unfairly—that Jungkook would resort to violence to make his point. He wasn’t expecting the younger boy to voice everything that he’d been thinking.

“You don’t care about the bike,” Jungkook continued. “You just want me to suffer. Or—oh, that’s right. She’s the one that you really want. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”

Everyone in this empty lot behind the building, including the stray cat that monitored the scene from across the street while licking its paw, watched Sid hesitate.

Probably for the first time in his life, Sid was confronted with the unexpected increase in his heartbeat.

He scoffed. Then scoffed again. Then once more, so that everyone and their mothers would understand that he found the accusation ridiculous.

And everyone understood, really. But Sid’s fidgeting wasn’t making the point he thought it was.

“I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re implying,” he retorted. “I’ve—I always get what I want. Why the fuck would I play games about—I never fucking grovel for girls. I don’t care how hot they are—”

“Right. But not this time, hm?” Jungkook countered. “You couldn’t get what you wanted, so now you’re doing everything you can to make sure I don’t either. You want to make us both miserable.”

Sid was embarrassed, Minjun realised as he watched his jaw tighten. He was utterly humiliated that someone would accuse him of having a crush.

“No. No, that was you. You made yourself miserable,” Sid deflected. “I had no part in that.”

How pathetic, Jungkook thought—but there was a satisfied smirk on his lips. He’d seen through Sid. And he’d forced him to lose his composure. Forced him to defend himself.

Jungkook remembered your description of Sid’s appearance last night; namely the comparison to a sewer rat—which was, honestly, very unfair for the rodent in question—and couldn’t hold himself back.

“Seeing your face every day actually brings me nothing but misery,” he said to Sid, “so you can’t escape the blame there.”

Taehyung looked away and puckered his lips to hide his reaction to the immature remark. Even he had to give a point to Jungkook here. Childish or not, it was clever enough to make Sid squint his eyes and hesitate once more.

“Don’t change the subject,” Sid said, which made Jungkook smile wider. “You broke the bet. The bike is mine.”

Minjun cut in with a groan.

“Sid, for fuck’s sake,” he said, tired of listening to the same thing over and over—and over—again. “It’s just a bet, so just fucking drop it. We’ll pay off the Katana if you care so much—”

“No.” Jungkook reached out a hand to touch Minjun’s shoulder, cutting him off. He glared at Sid. “You know what? You can keep the fucking keys to the bike,” he said as he pulled the keychain from his pocket, removed it, and tossed the keys roughly at Sid’s chest. The older boy scrambled to catch them. “Choke on them for all I care.”

Despite the venom in his words, Jungkook did not lose the sneering smile, and Sid’s eye twitched when he looked at him.

It didn’t feel satisfying when he held the motorcycle keys, but Jungkook was the one who looked like he won.

Jungkook turned away before Sid could come up with another mocking comment to make him stay, and headed towards Taehyung, who looked a little confounded.

The bassist needed a moment to process that the conversation had ended because Jungkook had decided it was over.

Taehyung felt quite proud of him, and when Jungkook looked at him, he reached out to tousle his hair affectionately. Jungkook backed away from his touch with a groan but still gave him a grateful look.

Instead of entering the venue, Taehyung led Jungkook to the side of the building, gesturing at the pack of cigarettes he had in his pocket.

A puzzled Minjun caught up with them a moment later.

“Why did you do that?” he asked while Jungkook turned to watch Sid and Jude walk away—both of them looked a little awkward, like they weren’t sure if the show they’d started was really over. “Why did you give him the keys?”

“He can keep the bike,” Jungkook said. “He’s never getting anything that really matters anyway.”

Minjun and Taehyung exchanged a look. They had both heard Sid stumble over his words earlier. They could tell that Sid had hoped the bet would end with Jungkook losing you, and not just the motorcycle.

Minjun still wasn’t sure if Sid’s actions were motivated by his wish to make Jungkook suffer, or if he really had feelings for you.

But he supposed it didn’t even matter anymore. Jungkook seemed ready to go to war for you either way.

“So, what—what are you going to do?” Minjun asked.

Jungkook shrugged and stuffed his hands into his now-empty pockets.

“It’s too late to do anything,” he said, smiling at his friend. “There’ll be other bikes. I don’t—it’s not what I’m worried about.”

Minjun nodded. He knew Jungkook wasn’t thinking about Sid actually trying to make a move on you. You’d snap his neck if he tried, and leave his body for the crows and pigeons to enjoy. Everyone knew it, and they would have wholeheartedly supported your reaction.

No, what Jungkook was really worried about was that Sid might have already done irreparable damage to your relationship. Minjun had hoped to help Jungkook by talking to you, but he wasn’t sure if it was any help at all.

“Good riddance,” Taehyung said slowly. “Sid, I mean.”

“Oh, yeah,” Minjun agreed right away. “Fuck him.”

“I can’t believe he’s here, though,” Jungkook said. He turned back to make sure that Sid had really left. “You think he’ll come to Glasgow, too, just to fuck with me?”

“Honestly, he might,” Minjun admitted. “He’s got the bike, but he can tell he didn’t actually win. He might want to retaliate.”

Jungkook groaned. Despite his hopes, he feared that Minjun was right.

“What can he do, though?” Taehyung asked, taking out the Marlboro pack from the pocket of his oversized leather jacket. “He’s alone.”

“Yeah.” Minjun pointed at him in agreement. “It’ll be a while before he finds someone who will follow his orders.”

“Well,” Jungkook said as Taehyung passed his cigarettes to both boys, “Jude might.”

“Jude can’t wipe his own ass unless he’s high as a kite,” Minjun said—his vowels softened by the cigarette between his lips. “I’m fucking pissed that he left with Sid, but—I mean, there’s nothing we can do.”

Taehyung opened his engraved Zippo lighter with a crisp click. He lit his own cigarette, then did the same for Jungkook and Minjun.

“If he shows his face anywhere near us again, I’m calling the cops,” Jungkook decided, shakily inhaling the smoke. “Tonight was the last time. I gave up the bike. I don’t care whether he thinks that’s enough. There’s nothing that he can hold against me anymore. We’re done.”

Minjun smiled at this.

Truth be told, he felt a little giddy from the significance of this moment. He’d never spent any time with Jungkook’s bandmates, and he knew it was because of Sid. Taehyung would not have offered them cigarettes if the obnoxious menace had been here, so this moment felt a bit like the start of something new. Something better.

Minjun exhaled the smoke while Jungkook confessed, “I don’t know what it’ll be like with him gone, though.”

Taehyung scoffed so vehemently that the smoke from his cigarette nearly got caught in his throat.

“I know,” he said. “Better.”

Minjun smirked and Jungkook nodded in agreement, but he still looked a little pale and wide-eyed as he toyed with the cigarette between his fingers.

“We’ll be fine,” Minjun promised. “Might get bored much faster because Sid won’t be here to think of ways we could kill ourselves, but honestly, I’ll take it.”

“Yeah, no—definitely.” Jungkook tried to smile, but there was something else on the tip of his tongue. He took a deep drag and slowly blew out the smoke before speaking. “This is, um—kind of weird, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever said this to you, but, uh—thank you. For being… for being yourself.”

Taehyung looked away, exhaling smoke into the parking lot to give the two boys more privacy without actually walking away from them.

Minjun was smiling, too. “Who else would I be?”

“You could have tried to be Sid,” Jungkook pointed out.

“Fuck no.”

They both laughed, and Taehyung stopped trying so hard to hide his smile.

For a minute, Sid’s absence was very palpable and it felt absolutely blissful.

“You’re welcome,” Minjun said, just when Taehyung offered, “another one?”

He pulled out another cigarette for himself and passed the rest to Minjun. While the two of them lit up another round, Jungkook finished his first one.

He was restless all of a sudden. This tended to happen to him, especially lately—the longer he was away from you, the harder it was not to think of you.

You’d told him you’d find him so you could talk.

What if you were looking for him? And he was wasting his time dealing with Sid’s temper tantrums again?

“I’m going to go,” he announced to the other boys as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He dropped the cigarette and stepped on it, twisting the sole of his shoe to put it out. “If those two come back, knock them out or call the police, I don’t care. I’ll see you on the bus, yeah?”

Taehyung chuckled, much calmer to let Jungkook wander off on his own now that he’d seen Sid leave with his own eyes.

“Sure,” he said, blowing smoke out. “You’ll be alright?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

As he walked towards the door, Jungkook remembered what you’d told him in Stockholm. You’d been right back then.

If he surrounded himself with people who genuinely cared about him, he would have enough voices to keep his mind calm. He would have someone to call if he was alone.

He would be okay.

Jungkook came to a sudden stop in the corridor when he heard your voice inside Rated Riot’s dressing room. The door was ajar, and he could see your profile as you leaned against the dressing table and talked to someone. He bent down to listen and recognised Luna’s voice in there, too.

“Did Nick text you again?” Luna was asking you. “After that time on the bus?”

Naturally, Jungkook froze on the other side of the door.

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really.

But who in the great fuck was Nick?

As quietly as he could under the circumstances—his heart had flat-lined for a second or two before breaking into the most passionate beating he’d ever experienced—Jungkook stepped to the side so you wouldn’t spot him through the gap in the door, and strained to listen.

“Yeah,” you replied with a sigh. Were you always this quiet when you spoke, or was he going deaf from his rapid heartbeat? “He texted me this morning. I didn’t reply, I was—well, with Jungkook.”

Now, Jungkook thought as he paled to match the plaster on the walls of the corridor, what—the absolute fuck—was that supposed to mean?

“But, uh, he said he’d like to arrange a formal meeting with me,” you continued, and the dressing table creaked as you moved away from it, “when he comes back from Australia with Reconnaissance.”

The terrified lightbulb at the end of the corridor flickered erratically as Jungkook frowned.

Nick Zhou—your supervisor at your first internship after graduation—returned to his memory. Jungkook had heard enough to understand that Nick managed Reconnaissance now.

That probably meant that you weren’t seeing anyone else. But Jungkook wasn’t sure if he was relieved by this.

“Are you going to go to this meeting?” Luna asked.

Good question, Jungkook thought. And then, immediately after—please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

“I… I don’t know. I think I should,” you said. Jungkook dug his nails into the pillows of his palms. “All our conversations about this had been over the phone, you know? I think it might be good to hear him out properly, face-to-face.”

“So, you’re really considering this then, huh?” Luna said.

You were quiet for a very long time.

Jungkook measured each second of your silence in the beats of his heart: bang-bang-bang, one, bang-bang-bang, two, bang-bang-bang, three.

“I guess I am,” you finally said. “N-not because I suddenly decided I don’t want to work with Rated Riot anymore. I just—well, in light of everything that happened, I think that hearing Nick out just seems like a… reasonable thing to do.”

Jungkook decided he’d heard enough.

He thought he knew what you would say next. He knew what happened. He knew what this “everything” was.

His immaturity. His constant dependence on you.

His tendency to fail at everything that he tried to do for you.

His inability to prove that he deserved another chance with you.

Finally, the bet.

So, there it was, then. He’d always been terrified of letting you down, and he did that anyway.

Exhaling shakily, Jungkook turned around and crossed the corridor toward the main exit where the tour bus was parked.

You were supposed to talk. Now he wasn’t sure if he’d find what to say.

If Jungkook hadn’t walked away, however—if he’d stayed for a minute longer—he would have heard what Taehyung caught as he returned to the dressing room, biting on the filter of a new cigarette.

“If it really came down to it, then—you know,” you were saying, “I-I couldn’t be with him, and still be his manager at the same time.”

The door creaked.

“Oh.” Taehyung stopped in the doorway, not sure if he was more surprised by your words or by the unexpected noise from the door. “Sorry, am I—? I can leave.”

You had been cleaning up backstage when Luna joined you after she lost track of Taehyung. That made you realise that you hadn’t seen him or Jungkook in a while. But now that Taehyung was here, the two of you looked at him as if you had never seen him before in your lives.

The expression on Taehyung’s face was not at all ambiguous. He knew what he’d just heard. You hadn’t used Jungkook’s name, but he was everywhere in this room and in your eyes.

Noting your expression and the way the can of beer in your hands began to tremble, Luna slid off the couch and walked over to her boyfriend.

“We were looking for you!” she exclaimed with far more anger than she actually felt. “Where were you?”

“I was—Jungkook and I just—we stepped outside for a second,” he said as he pulled his cigarette out of his mouth and tucked it behind his ear. “Sorry.”

“You could have texted,” Luna said, her voice rushed. She glanced at you over her shoulder. “We were just about to head back to the bus, weren’t we? That’s what we were discussing.”

“Right,” Taehyung said. “Well, I didn’t hear anything else.”

God, you thought. The three of you were the main cast in a poorly scripted tragicomedy all of a sudden.

“Yeah, we should go,” you said, hoping that the warmth you felt all over your body didn’t show on your face—it didn’t. But your panicked gaze still gave you away. “We’re leaving in half an hour. Is he on the bus?”

Again, the pronoun that did not need an explanation—Taehyung nodded right away.

“Yeah, he—he was on his way there,” he said.

“Okay,” you replied. “You can go. I’ll pack the rest of our things first.”

“We’ll help,” Luna offered. “You need to rest as much as possible.”

You were afraid she would say that. But she and Taehyung began to gather the empty paper cups and the staff members’ forgotten phones before you could object.

Stunned momentarily, you realised—like Jungkook had before—that you were surrounded by people who loved you.

And you were afraid, suddenly, to lose this if you left to work with Reconnaissance. Just like you were afraid of what would happen between you and Jungkook if you didn’t leave.

The hopelessness of the situation stayed with Jungkook as he got on the bus.

He chose not to wait for you, and instead went to the mini-fridge to find Jack Daniels. And while looking for that, he also befriended Jim Beam and Johnnie Walker. Jose Cuervo was, sadly, already almost empty.

When you opened the door of the bus half an hour later—surprised (and a little concerned) to see that it was empty—Jungkook was already feeling a pleasant buzz. He wasn’t quite drunk, but he definitely wasn’t sober as he stumbled a little while trying to climb out of his bunk and stretch his legs outside before the trip.

The alcohol had dulled the pain a little—as it was notorious for doing—but he still flinched when he saw the door open and heard your voice outside the bus.

“You need help standing?” you asked—louder than he had anticipated—and he spun on his axis, gripping the stair railing to steady himself.

He was happy to see you. And so tremendously hurt.

“Nope,” he said, licking his lips. “I’m perfect.”

“Where’s everyone else?” you asked.

“Flat tire,” Jungkook mumbled, slurring the consonants as he joined you outside the bus. “Driver said we’d be here for another hour. He doesn’t have a spare. Everyone else went—for a smoke, I don’t know.”

His eye patch had slid off and was caught in his messy hair. But the bandages around his eye had remained in place.

His scent was whiskey, but the look in his eyes was sober pain.

You were a little afraid of him like this because you didn’t know what he would tell you next.

“Mmhm,” you said. “And, uh—how come we’re drinking tonight?”

“Ah.” He chuckled. “We have our reasons.”

You waited for him to continue by counting the dark pebbles under your shoes. He leaned his back against the metal railing of the bus steps and gave you a long look.

“Sid’s here,” he said.

You looked up, aghast. Terror was the first thing you felt, and aggravation followed shortly after.

“What?” you questioned. “How?”

“He followed me to Manchester for the Katana,” Jungkook explained. “Minjun had given me back the keys, and Sid found out about it.”

“I thought you had—”

“I had,” he confirmed. He’d triple-checked with Mick to make sure Sid was really banned. “He couldn’t enter the venue, so Jude texted me to come outside. Mick suggested calling the police.”

You liked Mick. Everyone did. He was the quiet backbone of this entire tour.

But you didn’t like that Jungkook seemed to disagree with Mick’s suggestion.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked slowly. You thought you understood why Jungkook decided to finish off the most expensive bottles of whiskey that you had on the bus. Sid’s unexpected reappearance was a good reason to drink.

“I would have,” he said. “But I gave Sid the keys and he left. He’s got no reason to come back now. We’re done.”

You appreciated the cold wind on your face, because learning that Jungkook had given up his Katana willingly—to get Sid off his back for good—was painful. It felt heavy in your chest and in your lungs.

“Oh,” you managed.

“I really mean it. If he decides to show his face again despite that, I’m—I’m letting Mick handle it,” Jungkook promised. “He can call the cops or do whatever else he wants. Sid wanted to win the bet, well, he won it. I’m not going to see him again. I really mean it.”

His voice grew in volume despite getting hoarse. He was so distressed that he was nearing hysteria.

It occurred to you that he thought you would blame him for this. Like it was his fault that Sid was so dedicated to his craft of being a pest that he travelled across Europe for it.

“I’m not saying one word to him ever again,” Jungkook continued, all his words coming out in one breath. “I’m—I’m done. I swear. I’m not going—”

“I know,” you cut in softly before his panicked rambling could get worse. “I believe you.”

“I—” he stopped. His face regained some liveliness. “Thank you.”

“Is that your reason for drinking?” you asked, even though, deep down, you knew it wasn’t. “I thought we were supposed to talk.”

“I thought so, too,” he said, then inhaled sharply and plopped down on the bottom step, banging his thigh against the metal railing and wincing in pain. “Shit. But then I thought—I thought I’d rather get drunk than have my heart shattered. So here we are.”

Your stomach plummeted and the muscles all over your body jolted awake.

“What—what are you talking about?” you asked, looking around. Taehyung and Luna wanted to grab some snacks at the corner shop across the street, but you were still worried they’d catch you here.

Jungkook rested his head against the door frame.

“I’m... really, I’m tired of everything,” he said with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have messed around. I should have been honest with you about—about everything right away.”

You leaned your hip against the side of the bus. You appreciated him talking to you now, but you both knew that this hadn’t always been the case.

“You... should have been,” you concurred awkwardly.

“But I wasn’t,” he finished. “And now I’m too tired to keep trying. To keep knocking on a—the door is closed. Locked. I get it. You say you believe me, but I know the truth. I really fucked up. Not just with the—with the bet. I never treated you right. You do so much. You take care of everyone in your life.” He paused to take a breath. “And I’ve always been another fucking burden. I won’t—I won’t be that anymore. You won’t need to take care of me anymore. I promise.”

You looked at him with a worried wrinkle between your brows. “Jungkook, I’m your manager—”

“You’re my everything,” he cut you off and brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin. “But I’ve been fucking awful to you. You deserve so much better. I’m so—I’m so sorry. I have no right to—to expect you to come back to me. B-but I want to show you that I can be different. I want to show you the guy that I am without Sid. You know that guy. You know what he’s like. I want to show him to you again.”

You swallowed as your eyes drifted from his face to the rough gravel under your shoes, to the door of the venue, and eventually settled on your own crossed arms.

You felt tired, too, but this wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from him. You wondered what brought this on so suddenly.

“I really don’t want you to leave,” he continued. You straightened, realising what this was about. “But I… I understand if you will. I’ve always been selfish when it comes to you, but if I want—I want you to see that I’m growing. And because of that, I can’t hold you back.”

Your heart was beating too much, too intensely, too desperately for you to respond.

It felt—and, evidently, your heart realised it before your brain did—like Jungkook was making the decision about the rest of your life for you. A decision that you didn’t want to make.

“It’s over,” he said. “I get it. But the band loves you. We need you. You’re our—we’re nothing without you. We’re not Rated Riot. But we—the guys wouldn’t force you to stay. And I know I can’t do that, either. So, if leaving the band is the right choice for you… then you should go. You should always do what’s best for you. I wish I was what was best for you, but I’m not. Actually, I don’t think there’s anyone who would be good enough for you in my eyes, but—”

“Jungkook, please,” you finally whispered—the words painful on your numb tongue.

“Right, sorry,” he pulled back. You were afraid that if you closed your eyes, you wouldn’t be able to hear him anymore. “What I mean is, you deserve the best, and I’m so fucking far from it. I love you so much, but I don’t know if that’s enough. I just—I want you to know that if you decide to stay with us, I’ll never let you down again. But if you choose to go… I-I would understand. Ultimately, it’s your choice, as it should be.”

He stopped talking and allowed the night to fill the silence.

You didn’t know what was going to happen next.

He’d told you a lot over the past few days. He brought back a lot of memories, a lot of mistakes. And now he was taking action, too, to make sure to fix those mistakes. To make sure he didn’t repeat them.

He made a bet with Sid.

And this bet tried to prove that he still hadn’t changed, that his friends were still his main priority. But he black-listed Sid from Rated Riot’s shows and gave up his bike to make sure Sid didn’t come back.

The bet tried to prove that the two of you still couldn’t communicate. But he told you everything that he had been too afraid to say in your relationship.

The bet tried to prove that he didn’t really care about you. But he stayed with you when you were feeling your best and when you were at your most vulnerable.

The bet tried to prove that he only cared about himself. But after telling you how much he loved you, he was letting you go.

Again and again and again his words echoed in your head.

The determined I’ll be here, and the tentative It’s a song about my favourite thing in the world.

The terrified I can’t lose you, and the confident I’ll always love you.

You didn’t want to believe him when he had told you he loved you—and that was what this was about.

You were afraid of what it would mean—of what would happen—if all that there was to it, if all that hid under your uncertainty, was just your love for each other.

Minjun had made a reasonable point when he asked whether you were upset about the bet or about Jungkook’s feelings.

Perhaps the bet had quickly turned into an easy excuse not to be together. It was bad, it was awful, it was so terrible—but all it really did was provide a comfortable cover for your own fear and anxiety about him. About yourself. About you, together.

In retrospect, probably the worst repercussion of the bet was that it returned the two of you to the same place you were in before you learned about it. The place where you both wanted each other—so much—but you couldn’t.

As the silence continued to envelop the bus, competing with the night for dominance, it swallowed the sounds of the distant chatter of the people nearby.

You pulled back from the bus. It was time to stand up. Time to go.

“Come on,” you said quietly. “It’s getting cold.”

Jungkook looked at you from the bottom step by the door, and you realised that he’d been wrong that night in Manchester when he said that your favourite thing in the world was the night sky.

It wasn’t.

It was the stars—whole constellations, each formed after a specific moment in life—and the moon, and half of an entire galaxy in his eyes.

It was the way they brightened when he smiled at you, and the way they narrowed when you teased him. It was the way they stilled when he was listening to you speak, and the way they softened when he saw you at every venue. At every practice. Every soundcheck. Every concert. Every hotel. Every empty European street. Every night, and every morning. Year, after year, after year, after—

Your hands trembled as you watched him, realising with a startled burst in your chest that he loved you. He has loved you for as long as you’ve known him.

And against all odds, against all rational thoughts and fateful coincidences, against all wishes upon stars, you realised that you’ve always loved him, too.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, standing up. “Let’s go.”

chapter title credits: the devil wears prada, “salt”

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[slvt4felix]

I Could Never Hate You (Part ||)

Pairing -> ninth member!reader x Lee Minho WC -> ~2,700 words Includes -> lots of fluff, a little bit of angst, swearing, one small sexual innuendo, some Lee know tissue violence, arguing, Jeongin appearance, reader has anxiety but it's not mentioned as much in this part Summary -> Due to the late night revelations, you nearly forget all about your argument with Hyunjin. Will you be able to forgive him? Author's note -> I tried to make this one a little lighter to hopefully end this story on a much happier note. So don’t mind my dreadful attempt of comedy. Let me know if you want part 3! I hope you have a happy new year!

♡ Masterlist // Previous // Next ♡

You gently begin to wake up feeling something soft move beneath your head. You groan lightly, not quite wanting to wake up just yet. This has to be some of the best sleep you have ever had in your life. It's warm and cozy, and you somehow feel thoroughly rested, which is often hard to come by when on tour in a different country. Some may say the day before had exhausted you, or maybe the hotel room was just really nice, but as soon as you manage to blink your eyes open, you know the true reason. You have finally found your way back home.

You shift slightly, the sun, peaking between the curtains and painting the room a beautiful golden color, was unfortunately shining right in your eyes. Now facing away from the window, you glance up at Minho, still clad in his basic white tee and sweatpants. Neither of you had even bothered to pull the blankets back up, rather seeking warmth from just each other. The blankets are still ruffled at the end of the bed from whatever Minho had been doing before you had entered the room yesterday, unbeknownst to the life-changing events that were about to occur. You slept all night laying on his chest with his arm wrapped tenderly around you, holding you close. This is definitely the reason you slept so well the night before. Who knew cuddling with your enemy could have such a positive effect?

Minho starts to grumble a bit underneath you and you begin to panic, not wanting him to wake up yet. You just want to cherish this sweet moment for as long as possible, too afraid of how his brain will react when he wakes up. There's always the chance he will regret it all, or maybe he was just joking, or maybe he was drunk. Okay, that last one might not make too much sense but you can't help but worry through all the possibilities. Your thoughts begin to race, forgetting the most important what if. That maybe, just maybe, he really did feel the same about you and everything he said last night was entirely true.

A hand caresses your cheek, breaking you from your destructive chain of thoughts. Your eyes fall upon Minho with his eyes cracked open and a gentle smile gracing his features. He must have woken up at some point while you were too lost in thought to notice.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" he asks, his eyes searching yours as if he could find all the answers to the universe within your gaze. You simply hum, not particularly fond of telling him the insecurities that were just previously running through your head. Although you love the man dearly, you are going to need a bit of time to learn to trust him again, but that's okay. Relationships need time, communication, and work to make them last.

You lean in to press a kiss to Minho’s cheek, his fluffy morning hair and groggy voice making your heart flutter. The two of you stare at each other, absorbing the moment. Despite the rough night four out of nine members had, there was still a lot of work to be done. In the life of an idol, there was no time for rest. But for now, you were going to appreciate the peaceful moment shared between the two of you. They hadn’t released a set time to leave yesterday, but neither of you worried. Chan will come around knocking on the door eventually letting everyone know when to be ready by. It’s the same routine that has happened at every stop this tour. The only difference now being you and Minho holding each other while waiting for the eventual interruption to come.

Just as expected, a hesitant knocking sounds through the room. Minho instantly groans and closes his eyes again. You sigh exaggeratedly, realizing you're actually going to have to depart from the warm bed. As you pull away from Minho, he frowns and makes grabby hands towards you, as if he wasn't well aware of the reason you were leaving. You swat at his hands, letting a small giggle escape as you approach the door. You swing it open without bothering to look in the peephole, assuming it was simply Chan on the other side to let you know the schedule for the day. Instead you open the door to Hyunjin, who appears very surprised as if he had almost expected you to not answer at all. Honestly, you probably wouldn't have answered if it wasn't for you believing whole-heartedly that it was Chan. Surprisingly, the fight from last night with Hyunjin hadn't been the first thing on your mind when waking up this morning.

However, as you stare at the nervous boy in front of you, you're reminded of all the cruel, harsh words he said to you just the night before. The look of annoyance was now seared into your brain. How could your best friend do that to you? Your heart starts to ache as you think about all your favorite moments with him trying to decipher how it could have lead up to this.

He brings his eyes up from where they shot to the floor when you first came out. Upon making eye contact, it's clear just how nervous he really is. There is deep regret painted across his face and sincerity within his gaze. He looks like he came with something to say, his mouth opening and closing again as he tries to get the simple words out.

"Why are you here?" you ask him, not too unkindly. You simply want to give him a way into a conversation; he looks scared half to death that your just gonna slam the door in his face.

"I wanted to apologize, I am so so sorry," he says, emphasizing the last part heavily. Just hearing those words is almost enough to make you cave and forgive him again. He is your best friend after all. You're pretty sure he didn't mean any of it, especially after the reassurances provided by Minho the night before, but it doesn’t take away all the harsh words that were spoken.

"Why would you say that to me?" you ask, hurt audible in your tone. "You know how insecure I am about that stuff."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just really frustrated.”

“Well you did and it seems like you don’t even care how you made me feel.”

“Of course I care,” he says, offended at your accusation.

“Well it sure as hell seemed like you couldn’t give two shits last night.”

He simply stares back at you, regret running deep in his eyes. There’s a slight sparkle to them, enough to tell that he’s starting to tear up. He brings his hand up, scrunching the area between his eyes with his fingers. You almost remind him not to, telling him that it’ll bring wrinkles to his perfect face, but you hold yourself back remembering the unfortunate situation. Things aren’t okay between the two of you. It’s a weird felling considering it’s something that hasn’t really happened before.

Since the start of the band it’s really been you and Hyunjin. You were one of the favorite friendships for the fans to obsess over, and you loved it just as much as they did. You were two peas in a pod, never leaving each other's side.

You would’ve never expected for something like this to happen. Hyunjin wouldn’t do that to you.

But you have to think rationally if you want to keep the friendship. You can’t just throw all the years down the drain. He’s human, and he makes mistakes.

You hear Hyunjin inhale sharply from where he stands in front of you. You can tell he’s desperately trying to hold his sobs in, not wanting to make this about himself.

“Fucking idiot,” he whispers under his breath sending a pang through your chest. “Could we sit down and talk about it? I really want to make it up to you,” he says, regaining his composure. He straightens his back, his hands sliding into the pockets of his sweatpants. He nervously rocks forward a bit on his feet awaiting your answer.

As much as you want to talk it through, you’re not exactly comfortable with him right now. The idea of sitting down with him and being alone is definitely not on your to-do list. You need some time to process before you can get to that point. You’re sure that if you were to try to talk it out, it would probably turn into another argument, which is something you are desperately trying to avoid.

You glance back into the room, feeling Hyunjin’s eyes analyzing your movement. Minho is still in there, and it’s not really the time or place to dig deep into what happened. Time may be the main healer in this situation. He’s just going to have to regain your trust.

“Listen, now’s not really the best time. I’m not really ready to forgive you yet, but I’m not mad at you, okay?” He nods slowly, taking in your words. You can tell he’s disappointed, but he’s aware he’s not in the position to argue.

His eyes suddenly widen, a realization occurring. His eyes shift back to the room behind you.

“Is Minho in there? How did it go?” he asks, a sneaky smile growing on his face, completely amused at the situation.

"It went fine," you say shortly, trying to get Hyunjin to take a hint. Instead, he gently pushes past you into the hotel room. You would've shut the door on him had it not been suspicious. You spin around as Hyunjin struts into the room. You stare at him, confused considering you had just told him you weren't willing to talk right now.

You simply watch in wonder as he looks around, stepping back slightly when he notices an intimidating Minho, staring back at him from one of the beds. You may agree to be civil with Hyunjin while he attempts to make up for everything, but that doesn't mean Minho will. You're sure his typically empty threats will finally start to hold true.

Minho is still laying on the bed right where you had left him. His phone is in his hand, as if he had been trying to distract himself from listening to your conversation. However, it seems like the phone was neglected upon Hyunjin abruptly entering the room. His eyebrows are raised in a slightly annoyed manner. He hadn't been expecting Hyunjin to actually come into the room. His eyes shift from Hyunjin to you, and you quickly look away, embarrassed to be caught staring.

Although you would never admit it to his face, damn did he look hot while he was annoyed.

"You two slept in the same bed," Hyunjin says matter of factly, bringing you out of your thoughts. Your mouth opens in shock, not understanding how he could've possibly figured that out. Minho, however, doesn't take the moment of pause.

He instantly fires back, "Yah, don't start making accusations." He sits up a bit on the bed, prepared to chase after Hyunjin, like their fights usually result in.

"So, you're telling me you two did not sleep in the same bed?" he asks with his eyebrows raised in challenge. He glances between both of you as you try to figure out what to say. You don't want to lie to your best friend, but also based off what happened last night, he doesn't really deserve to know.

Minho beats you to it answering, "That's none of your business." He says it casually followed by a shrug of his shoulders. You nearly face palm, already knowing Hyunjin's reaction.

He instantly lights up, believing his theory to now be confirmed. He makes eye contact with both you and Minho, before he makes a run for it. He spins around and rushes for the door.

"Guys I won. I won the bet!" he begins to yell as he makes it to the hallway. Luckily, this was one of the few hotels you have stayed at where you had a whole floor to yourselves. There was a close encounter with fans at your last hotel, and they wanted to be extra cautious.

Hyunjin takes advantage of this, although you're not quite sure if it's purposeful or if he's just too excited to care. He goes to yell again, wanting to let the rest of the boys know the exciting news, but he is instantly cut off with a hand to his mouth. He recognizes it as Minho's, remembering the taste of dry tissues all too well.

Hyunjin nearly stumbles as he is dragged back into the room by the shorter man. Minho isn't too rough though, completely aware of his limits. He doesn't want to hurt him, maybe just restrain him.

Minho pushes him into the desk chair standing behind it. Hyunjin spits out the tissues, frustrated at being the victim of Minho's crimes yet again. He goes to stand up, eager to spill about your relationship to everyone, but he is kept seated by firm hand on his shoulder.

“Might as well tie him up while you’re at it” you say, giggling at Minho's antics.

“How’d you know I was into that?” Hyunjin retorts, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. In contrast, behind him Minho's face contorts into one of pure disgust. You can’t help but laugh at the craziness of the scene in front of you. The silliness is refreshing after the dramatic night before.

“Y/n, hand me more tissues,” Minho says, a look of determination growing on his face.

“I don’t know if that’s necessary…”

“He’s asking for it at this point,” he argues back, stretching his arm out obnoxiously. You shrug, unable to disagree with his point, emptying the last of the tissue box into his hand.

Panic fills Hyunjin’s eyes as he stares at you with deep betrayal. You simply laugh, aware that he's not actually upset.

Suddenly, all three of your heads snap towards the cracked open door as it's pushed open the rest of the way. It had been left slightly open after Minho dragged Hyunjin back in. You're nervous to see who it is, scared for the teasing to come if they find out. It's not that you don't want them to know about you and Minho, you just don't want to give them the satisfaction of being right. They've been trying to get you guys to interact again for years, so they are definitely going to give you a rough teasing over it. Plus, it doesn't sound like a bad idea to keep Minho to yourself for a little bit longer.

The door lightly hits the wall and the person is revealed. Jeongin is staring at the scene before him with wide eyes. The room is a little trashed due to Hyunjin knocking over a few things in the process of the kidnapping, and he looks terrified as Minho is holding tissues. It's definitely not the most welcoming thing he's ever seen.

He had come running out of his room after hearing Hyunjin yell, unsure as to what he had said. He was staying in the room next to you two and had simply wanted to check on Hyunjin or maybe join in on the fun.

However, this was not something he wanted to be included in this early in the morning. Hyunjin gives him pleading eyes, practically begging Jeongin to stay. The maknae doesn't listen, rather breaking eye contact and leaving for his room, too scared to be on the recieving end of Minho's wrath. He hadn't even said anything, his simple observance enough to make him leave.

That wouldn't be the end of it though, he knows he'll learn all about what happened eventually. He leaves with a small smirk, wondering if they had finally managed to finally get you and Minho to make up.

Next part out now!

Taglist: @armystay89 @thisisnotjacinta @silentreadersthings @seungminsapuppy

[wileys-russo]

leah being described as strict gave me a thought:

imagine dating her (the team knows) and since she’s captain and takes her role very serious, you get into trouble for not listening and talking to someone else on the team while you’re supposed to be doing drills and she makes you do a few extra drills which you’re obviously not happy about

so after trainings done and you’re at home with her you refuse to hold her hand or let her hug you and say that you’re too sore from the extra drills she made you do which Leah does not appreciate and it ends with her just grabbing you anyway until you give in since you secretly wanted to hug her and were just throwing a little tantrum

thank you if you do write it 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

drill sergeant II l.williamson

"ky there is literally no way thats possible." you scoffed with a shake of your head, sat in your cubby next to hers as the girl was avidly recounting how she built a house of cards last night using 101 cards.

"ask teyah!" kyra nodded as her eyes searched the room for her blonde roommate. "she's already doing her program in the gym." alessia chuckled on your other side, also doubtful of the young australians tall tale.

"i did do it, i'm being serious swear!" kyra whined with an annoyed huff as both you and alessia shared a look. "well its like the little boy who cried wolf. maybe if you lied less we'd be more inclined to believe you!" you grinned as clapping sounded.

"get movin girls! pitch in two minutes or its a fine and laps." your girlfriend shouted, clapping her hands as there was a thunder of cleats clicking against the floor as you and alessia scrambled to tug your own boots on, kyra darting off.

"if we get laps because of her big mouth-" the blonde striker huffed, standing to her feet having gotten her laceless boots on in milliseconds as you hurried to tie your own laces.

"relax lessi! i've got the girlfriend card to play and you get protection as the best friend of the girlfriend." you grinned, jumping up and slinging an arm over her shouder.

"future maid of honour of the girlfriend!" alessia reminded with a wag of her finger as you pushed her hand away with a grin and both beelined it out of the change rooms.

unfortunately for you two you were the last to the pitch, and with kimmy out with a flare up in an old hamstring injury it left leah to run the pack beneath jonas who would be a little late this morning due to a meeting.

"right you two. thats a ten pound fine and a lap then stretch, if you're not back in five its another!" leah barely glanced at the two of you as alessia groaned loudly and you stared at your girlfriend in disbelief.

"clocks started girls, move it!" she called seriously over her shoulder as alessia sighed in defeat and started to run, you eventually following after her as leah continued to ignore your looks sent her way as she focused on warm ups.

"so about that girlfriend card?" alessia shot you an unimpressed look as you rolled your eyes. "declined!" you huffed, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as you saved your breath and jogged the pitch.

it appeared you'd returned just in time as leah sent you both a nod and gestured for the pair of you to stretch, turning her back to converse with kelly who'd just arrived to help out. kyra sent the two of you a guilty smile as alessia's blue eyes shot daggers her way and you couldn't help but smile.

"leave her be she didn't mean any harm less." you chuckled, knocking your shoulder into alessia but a little harder than intended, and given your best friend was horizontally challenged she was sent tumbling to the ground accidentally taking frida down with her who in turn grabbed onto lia who joined the small pile up.

"oi! whats going on?" leah was there within seconds with a scowl as laughter errupted from the team and the three girls helped one another up, alessia's face burning bright red as she shoved you.

"you two, lap again! grow up." leah scolded, returning back to kellys side as your jaw dropped. "for fuck sakes." you grumbled under your breath, alessia sprinting off this time as you jogged, making sure to send your girlfriend a look which she seemingly stared right through as if you weren't there.

that made you frown, then lost in your own thoughts you hadn't realised alessia had long finished, choosing to sprint it to get it over with faster as by the time you returned everyone had already paired off for drills.

which of course, left you with leah.

"next time you dawdle its sit ups, come on." the blonde nodded, tapping a ball your way as you mocked her under your breath but followed, the two of you completing the drill in silence.

normally the taller girl would be talking your ear off as she had been ever since she was able to touch grass again, elated to finally be back with the team.

you weren't sure where the disconnect had grown from, as she was her usual self all morning, in the car ride over here and at team breakfast. yet here she was barely able to look at you without shaking her head in annoyance and it begun to grate at you.

things seemed to worsen throughout the session as time after time leah would use you as an example for simple comments or mistimed mistakes which would normally be overlooked or a warning.

it wasn't just you who would be punished, a lot of the girls settled into their own extra drills with a sigh as they were called out for slacking off or chatting, but it felt personal as it seemed leahs eyes were constantly watching and waiting for you to slip up.

you tried your very best to take them on the chin and tell yourself she was just doing her job as stand in captain, you knew she'd been nervous at taking back the mantle up with having had so much time off due to her injury, but you'd had weeks of training with her now without any issues.

"oi! did i say run your legs or run your mouths? 30 push ups, the pair of you!" leah yelled as kyra jabbed her fingers into your sides making you laugh loudly and tell her off, your face falling as kyra sighed and dropped to her stomach.

"leah she just poked me, thats hardly a contact violation or a reason to punish either of us. lay off would you!" you rolled your eyes, having had enough of the little comments and gestured for kyra to stand up, the australian looking nervously between you and leah.

"no kyra keep going. you too, drop!" leah warned crossing her arms over her chest and staring you down as the two of you locked eyes unwavering. but with a few murmured warnings to let it go from your teammates and you dropped, grumbling angrily under your breath as you went.

by the time you'd finished it was time for a round robin of games, something leah thankfully would only be a participant in as jonas and the coaching staff took the reigns.

focusing in on the game you tried to use it to let out the last of the frustration toward your girlfriend which was bubbling just below the surface, pushing hard as you could to score which paid off.

"get in, super boot strikes again!" you couldn't help but grin as beth jumped onto your back as your team won their final game, jogging around and twirling her for a moment before placing her back down on her feet.

training called for the day you ignored the smile sent your way by leah as she approached you, turning on your heel and hurrying to wedge yourself inbetween lotte and alessia, slinging your arms over their shoulders.

"lift me!" you demanded hanging off of them and causing all three of you to slam down into the ground, a tangle of sweaty limbs and laughter as you all peeled yourself off one another. "you do that every time and every time you never learn it doesn't work!" lotte groaned rubbing her neck as the three of you wandered into the change rooms.

"or the two of you need to learn how to lift me!" you grinned latching on and swinging between them as again all three of you tumbled to the ground.

"you are the worst." alessia groaned causing you to reach out and smack her, lotte standing with an amused roll of her eyes as the pair of you rolled around for a minute, the other girls stepping over you as if you both weren't there.

"practicing your wrestling are we babe? wrong sport i think." you looked up to meet leahs eyes and let go of alessia, standing to your feet and brushing the dust off your training uniform, choosing not to make a comment and striding over to your cubby.

your girlfriend gave you a strange look but just put it down to you being tired, waiting patiently for you to shower and change. "ready?" the blonde asked with a smile, sat at your locker and twirling her keys around her finger.

you blanked her once again, reaching past her to grab your bag, accidentally smacking her in the head with it as you turned and strode out of the change rooms. rubbing her head with a frown leah looked at alessia for help who held her hands up mumbling she wasn't getting involved before leah hurried after you.

you must have sprinted your way out of colney because she didn't catch you until she arrived at her car where you stood waiting, arms crossed and sunglasses covering your eyes. normally you'd wait for her to open the door for you, rewarding her with a kiss and a joke about chivarly.

but the moment leah unlocked her car you were sat right inside, tossing your bag on the backseat and shrinking away from her, pushing her hand away as it rested on your thigh as normal.

"alright whats wrong? why are you being like this?" leah scowled in confusion and annoyance at your dismissive behavior. much to her continued frustration you ignored her, busying yourself with your phone as leah sighed and shook her head, driving off none the less.

every attempt at conversation ignored leah gave up, drowned out by your continued turning up of the radio as you stared out the window.

finally arriving back to your shared home you were just as fast to exit the car as enter, grabbing your bag and wrestling your keys out, letting yourself in as leah followed behind.

"right, thats it!" the blonde huffed as you slung the door shut in her face, yanking it open and storming in after you. "whats up your ass then?" leah snatched the remote from you and held it out of reach, raising an eyebrow clearly expecting a response.

when she didn't get one, the anger faded.

"babe!" leah whined, throwing her head back with a groan. "i miss you, gimme a cuddle cmon." leah flopped herself basically on top of you as you pushed her off and tucked your limbs into your body.

"baby!' leah groaned again, trying to yank your arms open to settle into them. "sorry i'm a bit tired from the laps and the sit ups and the sprints and push ups the stand in gaffa had me doing for no reason!" you finally snapped, shooting her a glare and scooting your body away from hers.

realizing now why you were behaving this way leahs lips curled into a smile which only furthered your infatuation with her. "stop giving me that stupid fucking smirk before i smack it off your face!" you warned, leahs grin growing as she raised her eyebrows as if to challenge you to even try.

"oh babe, you cannot seriously be mad at me over that?" leah chuckled, scooting her body closer as you tried to expand the distance but having reached the end of the sofa you were stuck.

"over that? leah you singled me out, picked on me and didn't get off my ass the entire session, and for the most stupid shit!" you seethed, your girlfriend grabbing your legs and tugging them into her lap.

"you were mucking about love and you had plenty of warnings." leah smiled, fingers tracing lines up and down your calves as you huffed and stared away from her. "didn't we long ago make an agreement about not letting our relationship affect us on the pitch?" the blonde continued.

"whats that got to do with anything?" "well, it would mean that i don't give you any special treatment." "the way you singled me out today sure felt like special treatment!"

"baby-" you didn't give her the chance to finish, kicking her hands away and swinging yourself to your feet, thumping off to the kitchen. "oi, stop running away before you let me finish." leah followed after you, watching as you rummaged through the fridge still ignoring her.

"if i give you special treatment and let you get away with-" once again you didn't let her finish, ducking under her arm and returning to the living room, flicking on the tv and shoving the remote into your pocket.

it was only a few seconds before the grinning blonde blocked your view, staring down at you as you met her eyeline with a glare and averted your eyes.

"if i treat you any differently than the other girls just because we're together, i'd be a bad captain. its the same at england camps and i've never once heard you complain!" leah continued as you stayed silent once more.

you were surprised as she seemingly gave in and sat down beside you, though of course that was a generous assumption as instead your girlfriend switched tactics to gain your attention.

"fuck off." you mumbled after her foot dug into your hip for the fifth time, shoving her legs aggressively away from you making the defender smirk. "no, give me attention." leahs legs swung repeatedly into your lap as you continued to push them off.

as time passed by without leah having any success her amused smile melted into a frown of frustration. "fine, you leave me no choice!" leah suddenly stood and before you could even blink her hands were wedging under your arms and tossing you over her shoulder.

"leah put me down!" you smacked her back with your hands as she carried you upstairs with ease. "stop ignoring me, you're bein childish." leah threw you down onto the bed, crawling on top of you before you could move.

"i'm being childish!" you scoffed in disbelief with a roll of your eyes. "glad you agree babe." leah grinned as you shot her a glare. "now since we're home and captain williamson is still at colney, how about your girlfriend gives your poor tired legs a massage?" leah smiled, propping her head up on her hand.

"its a massive turn off to hear you talk about yourself in the third person." "leah disagrees."

you tried to hold back a smile at that but you cracked, the corners of your mouth curling upward. "leah see's that little smile, can't hide from her." your girlfriend beamed, kissing all over your face as you gave in with a sigh, unable to really be mad at her anymore when she was her normal charmingly sweet self.

"girlfriend leah is still very happy to give you a massage baby girl." "stop!" you gave a half groan half laugh at her repeated use of her own name.

"i'll take the massage though, least you can do after picking on me all day." you frowned, pouting your lips upward as your girlfriend who knew you all too well ducked down to press her own against them for a moment.

"my poor baby, picked on by her big bad mean captain." the blonde cooed mockingly once she'd pulled away, squeezing your cheeks between her hand.

"yeah she's awful, so stern and rigid and uptight. sort of miss when she was sidelined and her coaching wasn't so hands on!" you sighed, squealing as leahs slender fingers dug into your ribs for the comment.

"oh i'll show you just how hands on i can really be my girl."