#(this is the only way she can even be a LITTLE nice without feeling disgusted SDFLKJH)

[explicit-tae]

i seen you did a request so i as wondering can i request something? 🥹

jk x reader where the reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend and she gets her lick back 💜 love your stories!

I'm sure I can do something quick 💜

Lick Back

Realizing that your boyfriend has become a completely different person & being malicious towards you could only mean that he’s being nice to someone else.

Word Count:4.298

Warning: dry humping, kissing, neck kissing/sucking, dirty talking, nipple pinching, praising, affair/cheating, oral sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, slight voyeurism, teasing/taunting, squirting,

Your mother always told you that if your dog started barking at you that it only meant that someone else was feeding it. A dog would never bite the hand that feeds them.

Your mother wasn’t talking about an actual dog.

However, you had a dog - in a way - and recently, it began doing just that. It became annoyed with you for every little thing you’ve done. It’s tone changed completely when speaking with you; always rushed and not attentive. It started to be mean for no reason, nearly foaming at the mouth when you questioned their sudden change of actions - or questioned it at all. It wanted to be outside longer than usually and would be upset when called back home.

The dog being your boyfriend of nearly 5 years. You noticed the shift a year ago, but you ignored your gut feeling of something being terribly wrong - but now, you are numb and though it hurts in a way, you are also relieved. The love that was one there in your relationship appeared to expire without you realizing it - or maybe you had not wished to accept it.

And yet, here you are in a home the both of you share. He is out, not bothering to tell you just where he’s at - and you don’t ask. You stopped asking a year ago when you grew accustomed to sleeping alone.

But even if the love for your dog is no longer there - and if it was, it was slowly drifting away - that didn’t mean the anger wasn’t. The fact that you allowed the dog to stay with you because you loved him, fed said dog his favorite meals and showered him with love and affections. They were supposed to be loyal - but atlas, someone else had gained its love while you were left in the dark.

But there was someone else who liked what the dog had, you noticed. Someone who appreciated the meals you cooked and ate them with ease, who would come when you called them. They were loyal - even more than your own dog - and it just happened to be the dogs friend.

Jeon Jungkook is an attractive man and he knew it. It showed in the way he struts, shoulders lax and head held high. He almost wore a smirk, but never a cocky one. Jeon Jungkook could be an asshole - a complete fuckboy. He could turn his nose at anyone because he had it like that - but he didn’t.

Jeon Jungkook was a kind individual. He was caring - especially to the ones he was close with. You recall many times when you’d had to call him because your boyfriend had gotten so drunk that you’d need a man's help - and Jungkook was always that man.

 And even though Jungkook was a friend of your boyfriend, he was kind to you, as well. He changed your tires on numerous occasions, making sure to give you the speech that “You need to make sure you keep up with your car, Y/N.” or the “Your oil and tire lights are on, how do you even drive this still?” he had good intentions.

“This is so good!”  Jungkook says, mouth full of the pork belly. He licks his lips to savor the flavor. Jungkook always wore a disgusted face when something was amazing in taste and even now, his eyebrows are knit together in confusion and he appears utterly disgusted - that was a good sign.

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” you smile at him, washing the dishes you’ve made when cooking. 

“I told you I don’t mind washing the dishes, Y/N.” Jungkook says, glancing upwards at you. “It’s the least I can do since you cooked.”

You sigh, smile never ceasing. “It’s alright. You’re a guest after all.”

Your dog wasn’t home and you don’t know when he will be - nor  did you truly care. His friend was nicer, more entertaining, as well. He ate your cooking as if it was fine dining, and appreciated it, too. He was kind and good at conversation - he was caring, far more than your dog. 

“I enjoy cooking for you, Jungkook. You deserve it the most.” you turn off the water and begin to dry your hands. Your eyes meet his and for a moment, you’re pondering if he’s thinking about your words the way you intend him to. 

“Thank you.” Jungkook grins, tiny dimples at the side of his cheek forming. 

You lean against the island that he sits at, quiet and content that he’s eating the food you’ve made for him. It wouldn’t be the first time you cooked for Jungkook - you recall the first time without your dog being present was a year prior. You had cooked and waited for his return and was left with nothing. It was hours after when you heard him return - this time not alone or coherent. Jungkook had slung the man onto the couch annoyed with just how drunk he had become and when you emerged - in nothing but a nightgown - he had apologized profusely. 

“I cooked.” you had sighed, disappointed but not the least bit surprised by the actions of your dog. “Do you want a plate?”

It has become a tradition now. You’d cook for Jungkook often and each time, he'd come and enjoy what you’ve made him - whatever you made him. 

Jungkook was no fool, as well. He knows just how independent you’ve become, especially within the last year. He knows that you know that he knows of your boyfriend's loyalty - or lack of - but you never question him about it, even when he prepares himself to tell you the truth if you had. 

Over time, Jungkook noticed that you don’t seem to care about your boyfriend's whereabouts - and around that time, he picks up on just how you begin to dress when around him. It was subtle at first, sure. You showed more skin - more legs with your shorts, more shoulders. He notes that the clothes you wore were tighter but relaxed seeing as you were in the comfort of your own home. You’d wear tanktops that showed your breast with shorts that made your thighs highly appealing for his eyes. Overtime, you ditched the bra and it became harder for him to not gawk at the way your breast looked in them.

Jungkook doesn’t want to assume anything - you were so far removed from your boyfriend that you didn’t care anymore. One drunken wine night when the man was away on a “business trip”, you had told Jungkook that you hadn’t had sex with him in close to a year now - his own drunken response was that if he was your boyfriend, he would fuck you any chance he’d get.

Jungkook isn’t sure if you remember that night and neither of you brought it up after.

“You seem tense.” Jungkook is behind you now - when he has gotten up from his seat, you are unaware, consumed by your own thoughts. “Is everything alright?”

You slowly nod your head, turning it slightly to get a glimpse of him. 

Jungkook snorts. “Your shoulders are tense.” he says, gentle hands placing themselves on your shoulders. “Is everything alright with work? The car?”

“Yes, Jungkook. I’m fine.” you giggled. “You worry too much.”

Jungkook’s fingers begin to rub at your shoulders, applying pressure to them. You swallow, your hands gripping the edge of the sink.

“You should relax, Y/N. You’re always doing something and never truly giving yourself a break.”

Jungkook’s hand reaches your neck. They run up slowly, goosebumps left behind in its trail. Your eyes flutter close at how good it felt to be massaged.

“Does it feel good?”

There’s a drop in Jungkook’s voice - it’s deeper. He whispers it, as if only speaking directly to you, even if you and he are already alone in the home.

“Yes.” you murmur back, head falling back against his chest just as he reaches the front of your neck. A tattooed hand wraps around it, thumb caressing your skin in circular motions. 

“I’m glad.” Jungkook is subtle when he presses himself against you - so gentle that you don’t notice it at first. You're completely against his body, in blissful relaxation. “You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

Even now, you dressed so comfortably - shorts stopping high above your thighs and a shirt that sculptures your breast so lovingly that he had a difficult time not watching the way they bounced as you walked around the kitchen preparing him the meal.

“I don’t really have anyone to do that.” you whisper back, a slight moan creeping past your parted lips.

“I can take care of you…unless you object.”

You nod your head and instantly, his free hand roams down to grip your clothed breast. He can feel just how hard your nipple was.

You hiss, back slightly arching.

Jungkook engulfs both breasts in the palm of his hands and begins to rub, your light moans enticing him to continue. He can feel your nipples harden in his grasp and he himself begins to hiss lowly to himself on how heavenly they felt in his hands. 

There’s no doubt that the two of you wanted this for far too long by the way you completely allow him to touch you without any resistance. He presses himself against you needily, face in your neck as his hands continue to grip and pull at your breast.

“You smell nice.” Jungkook grumbles in your neck, nose inhaling your sweet scent; he’s sure he sounds like a creep, but he wasn’t going to hold himself back . Not now he’s certain you want him just as much as he does you. “I like this scent on you the most. This and the jasmine one.”

You swallow, heat rushing through your body at his words. Jungkook had memorized the perfume’s you’d wear due to the countless times he’d be around you. He recalls the time he even had to help his friend pick out a gift for you on an anniversary and how upset he had been when he chose the cheapest scent he could find - and one you’d never wear. Jungkook had swamped them out and chose the very scent you wore now and you’re none the wiser.

Your arms reach behind you to cup Jungkook’s head just as you feel his teeth sink into the nape of your neck. He’s being more rough; dominant. You don’t remember when the last time a man has touched you with such possessiveness - a sex-toy could only do so much.

“Such pretty skin,” Jungkook’s tongue pokes out of his mouth to lick onto your neck. “just want to mark it all up.”

“Then do it.” you respond. If you and him were going to do this, mind as well go all out. Your dog often comes home smelling like sickly sweet fruit perfume and cigarettes at times - you wanted Jungkook’s scent all over you. 

Jungkook does, biting your skin harshly and then suckling on it until your neck is perfectly marked up. He’s then quick to turn you around to finally face him, the both of you now locking eyes. 

“Are you upset?” Jungkook questions, eyes dark with lust but a bit concerned.

“With you?” you ask, raising a brow. “Never.” 

“Not with me. In general.” Jungkook murmurs, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently traces your lips. “I’m sure you know…what he does.”

You nod your head, leaning into Jungkook’s touch. 

“Don’t want you to regret or feel bad afterwards.”

“Are you?” you ponder aloud.

 You were so far removed from your boyfriend that you could care less about what he thought. In your mind, he was nothing but a roommate now; the two of you not even sharing a bed. 

Jungkook, however, was your boyfriend's friend and maybe he would feel remorseful.

“I told you that I’d never stop fucking you if given the chance.” Jungkook snorts, thumb tapping your lip. 

“Then don’t stop.” you murmur, tongue poking out to wrap poke his tongue. “I haven’t been fucked good in so long.”

Jungkook hisses, his hand now gripping your cheek. He shakes his head. “He told me what you like.” he confesses, unsure if you were willing to go down that route with him. 

“He was never really into anything.” you shrug your shoulders - this is why you ended up with a vibrator and a dildo; and you were currently looking into a vibrating dildo, how sad your life has become. 

Jungkook is aware of his friend's lack of foreplay - he was only ever interested in his own pleasure. Jungkook, however, didn’t mind pleasuring you until you were begging him to stop - but maybe he was just a bad person to think about his friend's girlfriend riding his face until she came.

Then again, you were being cheated on by said friend so maybe this was just his karma; it wasn’t like you were a bad person and deserve such treatment.

“I want to eat you out.” Jungkook declares suddenly that it catches you off guard completely. “Why do you look scared?”

“Just shocked.” you say, body growing even hotter. “Wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“‘I want you to ride my tongue until you’re squirting all over me’ is what I truly wanted to say.” Jungkook deadpans and blinks. “But I didn’t want to scare you away.”

You gulp, eyes widening and thighs clenching. 

“And by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together, it didn’t scare you.” Jungkook smirks and instantly, he presses his lips against you. It’s a deep kiss that catches you by surprise, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave more. 

“I can kiss you, right?” Jungkook says against your lips - maybe he should’ve asked first. “I know kissing is more intimate-”

You shut him up by kissing him, arms wrapping around his neck to assure that he doesn’t get too far away from you. 

Kissing Jungkook came naturally - as if the two of you had done it before. He pries your mouth open and allows his tongue to dance around yours, all the way he holds onto your hips. 

“Bed,” you kiss his lips again. “room.”

Jungkook follows behind you, unable to keep his hands off of your body as you lead him to your bedroom. He doesn’t even bother to close the door before he’s already tugging at your clothes.

Your shirt is the first to go, breast pooling out that Jungkook cannot focus on anything else but them. He dives into them, your back hitting your mattress just as he begins to suckle on your left nipple, his thumb and index finger pinching the right.

The noises Jungkook made were just as filthy, wet sucking and groans echoing off of your walls. How  long he had craved to see your bare breast - they were always teasing him when he was around. Bouncing whenever you move, nipples always erect for his view.

“So pretty.” Jungkook brings the right nipple into his mouth, showing the same amount of needy lust and love to it as the left. His hand squeezes your left breast in the palm of his hand, the pain shooting pleasure right to your core. “I can suck on them all night. I don’t know why he doesn’t.”

Now, Jungkook brings both nipples into his mouth, needily needing to taste you. He has a crazed look in his eyes that only causes you to squirm beneath him, legs wrapping around his waist to feel him.

“You can suck on them whenever you want.”

Jungkook grunts, teeth grazing against your nipples as they pop from his wet mouth. “Don’t tempt me, Y/N. You’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

You were positive you didn’t want Jungkook to leave. 

“I want you naked right now. I wanna see just what that idiot has for me right now.”

There wasn’t much Jungkook had to do to get you naked - in seconds, he had helped you kick off your shorts along with your panties, needy pussy on display for him.

“Need you on my tongue now.” Jungkook hisses, flipping you and him so he is beneath you now. Your pussy is so close to his face that it causes you to yelp in slight humiliation.

“I-I wasn’t really prepared to do this, i-I-”

“Y/N,” Jungkook calls, tone dismissive. “I’m a man. Just fuck yourself against my tongue.”

So you do - and Jungkook’s hands only make you do more. His hands slap your thigh to kick up the pace, his eyes boring into your face as it contorts with pleasure. Your hips just as you grind against his tongue, hands gripping your breast.

Jungkook’s eyes never leave your face. He enjoys watching the stress leave your body as you pleasure yourself, it tells him that this is something you truly needed. His hands begin to rub along your hips, encouraging you to continue until they slide down to your ass. He cups them, his own head swaying side to side to further stimulate your needy clit.

“S-S-Shit!” your body leans back, hands planting against his thighs as he devours your cunt as if it was his last meal. “I-I’m gonna cum…you gotta move.”

That was the last thing Jungkook was going to do - not even as your hands try to pry him away from your pussy, he doesn’t. He continues to suckle onto your clit until you’re visibly shaking above him, but even then he was determined; fully committed to having you cum hard on his tongue. 

Your legs begin to quiver and Jungkook soon was going to get what he was looking for - you cum. He licks the arousal up, slurping and suckling loudly as your moans mewl out of your mouth.

“I could eat you all day.” Jungkook speaks beneath you - and you knew he was serious. 

You did the wrong thing by looking at him. His mouth and chin was fully coated in you and just the sight causes you to cum even harder - the hardest you have ever had in your life; right onto his tongue like he wanted. 

You fall back against the bed with a tired sigh, breathing hitching. 

Jeon Jungkook was a dangerous man. No wonder the universe gave you your dog - you couldn’t handle a real man such as Jungkook, surely. 

“Can I fuck you?” Jungkook asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Unless you’re tired then-”

“I want you to cum in me.”

Jungkook coughs, his cock jumping in his pants. “I-I…really?”

“If you’re going to fuck me, you mind as well go all out.” you pant, widening your legs. “I don’t want you to hold back, either.”

You were going to be the death of him - but if this was what is going to kill him, then he’ll be content. 

“Fuck.” Jungkook is in a hurry to remove his clothing, scattering it all around the room without a care. “Fuck you’re so perfect. I would treat you so well, Y/N. Fuck I hate him.”

Jungkook’s words causes you to giggle at the circumstances. He hated your boyfriend - his friend - for allowing you to fall into the arms of another man - him. It’s all comical, truly. 

“I would fuck you all day if you’d let me. Come home every night and fill you with my cum. How are you not pregnant yet?”

Jungkook’s babbling to himself, even if you could hear it. It’s questions he has asked himself time and time again - wondering why his friend would rather sleep with other girls when he had someone like you at home. You cooked every day and assured the home stayed just right. He would have put a baby in you - and of course married you; but this wasn’t about him now, was it?

Jungkook positions himself at your center and swallows. You’re clenching, ready to be stuffed. 

“I bet you’d like to put a baby in me.” you tease, hips slightly wiggling for him to enter you. “Why don’t you?”

Jungkook growls. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Y/N. You don’t know how many times I imagined you in my home.”

Maybe Jeon Jungkook was a bad friend for imagining said friend's girlfriend in his home cooking for him - or in his bed breeding her. BUT he had since stepped out on the relationship so karma would have to skip him, right? If anything, you being with him would be doing both of you a favor - you wouldn’t be cheated on and he would dote on you every chance he had.

Jungkook begins to enter you, shuddering at the tightness of your pussy. It engulfs him completely, as if shoving him in with whatever powers it held. 

Shit.

Instantly, Jungkook begins to pound into you - you casted a spell, surely. Whatever you put in the food had caused him to be highly consumed by you entirely. Maybe a baby would be nice, right?

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to get right into it - neither were you against it. He holds your legs apart in a tight hold, cock pounding into you so heavenly that even you thought about giving the man what he has been imagining.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses when his eyes catch the white, creamy ring around his cock. “you haven’t been fucked good in so long. You’re milking my cock already.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a pussy before you could’ve been fucking me.” you needed Jungkook to fuck you harder if possible. Making him mad and taunting him was an amazing way to start. 

Jungkook’s eyes are furious, lust and anger swirling in them. “Maybe if you would’ve  asked me to fuck you I would have.” he spits back, his thrust quickening. “You always looked so desperate, too.”

“I was.” your hand slap against his bare chest, but it doesn’t cause him to stop - no, if anything it makes him fuck into you even deeper at your retaliation. “You were desperate to fuck me, too.” you moaned when he hit that sweet spot that has never been touched before. “Like a little teenage boy.”

Neither of you notice the footsteps coming closer to the bedroom, far too entangled with one another's pleasure. 

“I know when a bitch needs to be stuffed. Should’ve filled you with my cum years ago.” Jungkook flips you onto your stomach. He yanks your hair back so your back is perfectly arched - and then he takes you just as hard as before. “But tonight will be the night that I do what we both want, huh?”

“Fuck, you’re so deep.” your eyes snap shut, stomach forming knots. Your breast bounces in the rhythm of his powerful thrusts.

One hand in your hair while the other begins to play with your wet clit. Jungkook buries his head at the side of your neck, lips against your ear.

“You’re coming home with me tonight, Y/N. I’m going to breed you here, then you’re leaving with me.” It’s the sex and lust talking that's causing him to be so demanding and possessive, but you and him both go along with it. When the high was down, then maybe the two of you could talk with sense.

But as of right now - he was determined to put a baby in you without thinking of any consequences and stupidly, so were you.

“You’re gonna leave him right?” Jungkook asks, yanking your hair harder as his hips jut into you. “You’re gonna give me that baby you want me to put in you so bad and you’re gonna leave that sad excuse of a man.”

Your pussy clenches around him and your eyes manage to open. You’re shocked to see him at the door, eyes wide and watching his friend fuck you into oblivion all the while bad mouthing him.

“Y-Yes!” your juices leak down your thigh, overstimulated due to Jungkook’s fucking and aggressive rubbing along to your swollen clit. “Want your baby.”

You don’t break eye contact with the man - it’s evident that he’s shocked, but he cannot be angered. Not with you, at least, maybe with his friend. 

“He could never fuck me like you. Never give me a baby.”

Now you were purposely taunting him, upset that this is when he decides to come home - but a bit glad that he gets to witness the end of an already crumbled relationship. You wonder how he feels witnessing his friend fuck you better than he ever could; with more passion.

You cum around Jungkook’s cock, juices leaking out of you and onto your bed and Jungkook isn’t far behind you. His thrust began to grow sloppy. He leans away from your neck, eyes glancing up at the figure watching them - the same figure of his former friend; one who had not spoken to him in months unbeknownst to you. 

The friendship had ended months prior when Jungkook had suggested that he treat you better, in which he responded angrily that if he wanted you to be treated good so bad that he should have you, declaring that he would have nothing but his sloppy seconds. Never truly imagining that he would witness it happen before his eyes - he was just angry and drunk at the time when he spoke so harshly of you.

Jungkook cums inside of you, so deep and so much. His eyes never leave the shocked ones of his former friend at the door as the both of you allow the high to die down. “You’re coming home with me tonight.” he says, not asking but demanding.

You nod your head, eyes leaving that of your former boyfriend and they close as his (former) friend gently lays you down onto your bed.

[urno1luv]

request: g!p yunjin x subby bratty 6th member reader + i kinda made you guys hate each other in this... what's better than enemies to lovers heh.. let me know if i missed something anon!!

i was gooning while writing this... i thought i should let yall know🥹

cw: degradation (bitch, slut), u give unnie a bj then she fucks you, she slaps you, she bites your shoulder wc: 2.06k

You’re halfway onto the dorm kitchen counter when Yunjin walks in.

Of courseeee, of course it’s her and she has to walk in that exact moment.

You hear the sigh before she even speaks, and you know exactly what face she’s making without turning around, that pinched expression, all jaw tension and narrowed eyes, like she’s two seconds away from filing a formal complaint to management. “You’re seriously doing this again?”

You hum, unbothered, letting your legs dangle off the edge. “Good evening to you too, unnie.”

“I’m not in the mood, Y/n.”

“You never are. That’s part of your charm.”

Yunjin walks past you, snatches a protein shake out of the fridge, and shuts the door with a little more force than necessary. You catch the way her shoulder tenses, and for some reason, it makes you smile.

“I need the almond milk,” you say sweetly.

She doesn’t even look at you. “Use your legs.”

“I’m short.”

“Well isn't that tragic.”

You tilt your head, faking innocence. “But you’re so tall and sooooo helpful!! Wouldn’t it just make your day to do something nice for your teammate?”

She finally turns then, slow, deliberate, and levels you with that look. That sharp, unimpressed, I’m this close to drop-kicking you look.

“Why do you always start with me?” she asks, tone flat.

“Because it’s fun.”

Yunjin laughs. It’s humorless, barely more than an exhale. “You’re exhausting.”

“And yet, here you are, still talking to me.”

There’s a pause, just a second too long, where neither of you says anything. The air feels tight and charged, definitely not in a good way, not in a soft, flirty way either. It’s sharp, bristling.

You hop off the counter slowly, closing the gap between you with deliberate steps. Close enough that you can see the twitch in her jaw. “You’re not gonna get rid of me by pretending to hate me, y’know.”

She scoffs. “I’m not pretending.”

You smile, too wide to be sincere. “Sure, unnie.”

────୨ৎ────

You’ve been in LE SSERAFIM for just nearly a year, a late addition to the tight knit group, and already half the fandom thinks you and Yunjin want to kill each other.

The other half thinks you’re secretly hooking up behind closed doors.

You’re not, (unfortunately for the two of you.)

The reality is more complicated. She’s sharp, you’re sharp. She hates how loud you are, you hate how self-righteous she is. You poke, she snaps. It’s a cycle, an annoying routine.

It’s also weirdly addictive.

She’s the only one who doesn’t fold when you start acting up. The others laugh you off or play along. Yunjin just glares and tells you to shut up, and well, you kind of like it.

Not in a nice way… more in a grab her face mid-argument and see if she flinches kind of way.

────୨ৎ────

During practice, you “accidentally” switch your water bottle with hers.

She doesn’t notice until she takes a sip and gags, and you make a stank face while turned away because why is she gagging…?!

“Seriously, Y/n?” she glares.

“Oh no,” you deadpan. “Was that my bottle?”

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “You’re disgusting.”

You smile with teeth, cackling. “Want another sip, unnie?”

Chaewon calls a five-minute break before someone gets slapped.

────୨ৎ────

Later, after everyone’s gone quiet in the dorm, you creep into the kitchen again. It's 1:23 a.m. You’re not even hungry. You just like the silence.

Well, until she walks in, of course. Again.

“Let me guess,” you say, not even looking at her. “You sensed I was having a peaceful moment and came to ruin it.”

Yunjin doesn’t rise to the bait. Just grabs a glass and fills it from the sink.

“You’ve got issues,” she mutters.

You lean against the counter, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded. “Takes one to know one, unnie.”

“You think everything’s a game.”

You push off the counter, slowly approaching her. “And you hate that you can’t stop playing.”

She turns toward you then. Her eyes are dark, unreadable. There’s a pause, again, that silence that stretches just a little too long.

“You’re lucky you’re in the group,” she says, voice low. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t deal with you.”

You raise a brow. “Funny. You deal with me an awful lot for someone who supposedly can’t stand me.”

Her jaw clenches. “You think I enjoy this?”

“I think you enjoy being mad at me,” you murmur, stepping just close enough that your shoulder brushes hers. “Feels better than admitting you don’t know what to do with me.”

Yunjin holds your gaze. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. “Don’t flatter yourself, Y/n,” she says coldly. And yet, she doesn’t move away.

You stare at each other in the dark kitchen for another beat, both too stubborn to look away first.

Eventually, you smile again, slow, dangerous smile. “Goodnight, unnie.”

You brush past her on your way out, deliberately letting your hand graze her waist as you go, leaving her quiet. She doesn’t say a word.

But you know she won’t stop thinking about it, so you decide to trigger her one last time, and you shouldn't have done that (you should’ve done it earlier if you knew she was gonna snap the way she did).

────୨ৎ────

You plan something fun, something that you believe Yunjin would get angry at. You lean just a little too close to the male stylist, laughing at some dumb joke he made, placing a hand on his arm as you giggle like you don’t see the way Yunjin is watching you from across the dressing room.

You definitely see it, heat rising in your lower stomach at the way she’s staring at you.

She’s pretending to scroll on her phone, one leg crossed over the other, but you know her too well now. That sharp flick of her eyes. The way her fingers are drumming on the armrest like she’s holding herself back from throwing the nearest object. Her jaw clenched so hard it’s practically carved from stone.

You press your tongue into your cheek to hide your grin.

A little more. Just a little more, and she would snap. You ask the stylist to fix your shirt, practically pushing your tits in his face when—

“Y/n,” she snaps, sharp as glass. You glance over innocently. “Yes, unnie?”

“Get over here.”

The tone makes the stylist step away like he’s just been caught doing something illegal. You take your time walking over, all slow steps and sugar-sweet smiles, because if she’s gonna yell, you at least want to earn it.

“What’s up?” you ask, blinking like you didn’t just flirt with someone in her line of sight for five minutes straight.

Yunjin stands. It's like her anger gave her another few inches, because she looked taller (and hotter). And right now? Pissed.

She grabs your wrist and yanks you down the hallway, past stylists and makeup artists and assistants who all look away politely, as if they didn’t just witness the sexual equivalent of a bomb ticking.

“Yunjin,” you sing under your breath, “people are gonna think we’re sneaking off to make out.”

She doesn’t say anything.

She doesn’t have to, because the look in her eyes is louder than anything she could possibly say.

She pulls you into an empty dressing room and shuts the door with a slam. You have exactly two seconds to say something before she’s pushing you up against the wall, both hands braced on either side of your head.

The tension doesn’t crack. It shatters.

“Y/n? Really? Are you trying to piss me off?” she demands, voice low, shaking with something just under the surface.

You blink up at her, lips twitching. “Mmm. Maybe.”

Her eyes narrow. “You think it’s funny?”

“I think you being this mad over a stylist fixing my clothes and doing HIS JOB… is very funny.”

Her hands slam the wall. You flinch, but not in fear, but in thrill. “You don’t get it,” she says, voice rough. “You never get it.”

“Then explain it to me.” Yunjin stares you down, chest rising and falling too fast. Her hand moves, cups your jaw, roughly, like she’s thinking about shaking you. Or maybe kissing you. Or both.

“You walk around like everyone wants you,” she hisses. “You act like nothing touches you. Like none of this means anything.”

You smirk. “And yet here you are, pressed up against me, heavily breathing like you want to eat me or something.”

“I hate you, Y/n,” she spits, and you only laugh at that comment. “Liar.”

She freezes. You lean up, closing the last inch of space between you. Your voice drops to a whisper.

“So this is what it takes to make you touch me?” Her hand tightens on your jaw. “Yunjin—” And then she’s kissing you, hardly, messily and angrily.

It’s not romantic, it's not gentle. It’s the kind of kiss you’ve both been too proud to admit you wanted, all teeth and heat and months of shoved-down feelings exploding at once.

You gasp against her mouth, and she uses it to slide her tongue against yours like she’s punishing you for every smug smile, every flirtatious eye-roll, every whispered “unnie” that drove her insane.

“Get on your knees,” Yunjin commands. “Since your attitude is so fucking awful, you won't be able to walk straight for a week.”

She unzips her jeans while standing in front of you, her dick hard and throbbing. “Open wide,” she commands. You open your mouth, and she pushes your head down onto her shaft. She grabs your hair, holding you in place as she thrusts into your mouth.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” Yunjin groans. She pulls your head down further, fucking your throat. You gag and choke, saliva mixed with precum running down the side of your neck, but she doesn't let up. “That’s it, take it all,” she moans, “you were made for my cock.”

She pulls out and slaps your face hard. “Now it's your turn,” she says, running a hand through her hair. You got up, and Yunjin pushed you onto your tummy over the table, kicking your legs open.

You look up at her, tears running down the side of your face, squealing when she pushes her knee into your pussy, grinding against it, before replacing the sensation with her fingers. “Yunjin… a-ahh… unnie…”

The unnie in question only laughs, grabbing your hair and yanking your head back, to watch you as she fucked her fingers into you, dick getting harder as your moans spilled out of your mouth uncontrollably.

“You're such a dirty slut,” she said into your ear, her breath hitting you. “If you wanted to fuck me, you couldve just asked instead of trying to constantly make my life hell.”

Yunjin pushes your face into the dressing table, her dick rubbing against your ass. “I'm going to ruin your tight little pussy,” she groaned. “You're mine now.”

She thrusts into you from behind, her hips slapping against your ass. “Fuck, you're so tight,” she groans. “I could fuck you all day.” She pulls your hair harder, using it as a handle to fuck you deeper. “Take it, you little slut. Take my cock.”

Her hand reaches around to massage your clit roughly, the other hand leaving your hair to squeeze your nipple. The combined feelings made you throw your head back, arching into Yunjin further. “Cum for me, Y/n,” your older member gasps. “I want to… hah, feel you… fuck..” her thrusts are faster now, harder, and more sloppy. She leaned in closer to bite your shoulder, muffling her moans. “Now, bitch, cum now.”

You can't hold back any longer. You cum hard, your pussy clenching around her shaft. Yunjin follows soon after, emptying herself inside you. She pulls out and leans down, her lips meeting yours hungrily.

You break the kiss first, barely, forehead against hers, breathless and smiling. “Still hate me?” you whisper breathlessly, and “innocently”.

“Don’t push it,” she mutters. You reach for her hand and press it flat against your chest. “Too late.”

Yunjin curses under her breath, then pulls you in again, this time, slower.

────୨ৎ────

later that night, in your shared notes app draft:

> things that get yunjin to kiss/fuck you:

being a brat

talking to literally any man

calling her unnie in that voice

letting her lose control.

add more later (🤭)

[waitimcomingtoo]

A Film By Peter Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter gets back into making little videos once the two of you start hanging out

warning: extreme 2017 homecoming era nostalgia

Masterlist

Of course he went for Liz.

Liz was the ingénue. She was perfect in every possible way. Perfect grades, perfect face, and the perfect boy pining after her. You’d been crushing on Peter since the third grade but with Liz around, he never noticed you.

But Liz was gone now. She had moved to Oregon following her dad’s arrest and taken Peter’s feelings for her with her. Now that she was gone, you decided it was time to stop pining after Peter from afar and start pining from up close. And so, when you walked into the cafeteria that day, you didn’t sit at the end of the table like you usually did.

“Oh, hey.” Peter smiled in surprise when you sat down next to him. Smiling was good. Smiling meant he wasn’t creeped out by you sitting so close. You gulped before giving him best smile back.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Ned asked, making Peter give him a look. You immediately regretted your decision and wished you’d just stayed in your usual spot.

“What do you mean? She always sits with us.” Peter pointed out.

“No, she always sits down there. She’s never actually sat with us before.” Ned replied and gestured to the end of the lunch table.

“Yes, but I’m sitting here today because I needed Peters help with the chemistry homework.” You said and put your chemistry notebook on the table. You knew you couldn’t just randomly sit with them without a reason, so you came prepared.

“Oh, for Mr. Eddie’s class? It’s easy. I’ll show you my notes.” Peter’s offered with a smile. You returned the smile as he pulled out his own notebook. It was a win/win for you since you actually needed help with the homework and it would start a conversation with Peter. While he was explaining the problem to you, you never once looked down at the notebook. You were too focused on the curve of Peter’s suspiciously long eyelashes, the longest you’d ever seen on a boy. Ned noticed the way you were staring his his best friend and frowned a little.

“Does that make sense?” Peter’s asked when he was done explaining.

“Yeah, it does. Wow, thanks Peter. It sounds so easy the way you explain it. I wish this stuff came as naturally to me as it does for you. You’re so smart.” You said as if you had listened to a single word he had said.

“That’s nice of you to say but I’m really not that smart. I just like chemistry.” He replied as he blushed from the compliment.

“Oh, come on. You’re the smartest guy I know. You’re the only one that answers questions in that class. And you always get them right. When Mr. Eddie asks if anyone has any questions, I don’t raise my hand because I don’t even know what I’m confused about yet.”

“That’s I feel in English. I can barely make it through the first line in a poem and you’re already going back and forth with Ms. Teague about Pindaric odes or whatever they’re called.”

“You listen to when I talk in English?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Of course I do.” Peter shrugged. “I always find the reading boring until you raise your hand and talk about how you interpreted it. You make it interesting.”

“I liked that book we read when the kids ate the other kids.” Ned said and interrupted the moment. Your smile dropped as you and Peter looked at him with disgust.

“The one with the flies-“

“We know.” Peter cut him off.

“Anyways, thank you for helping me with the homework. I’ve been stuck on it all week.” You said to Peter.

“Ugh. That’s been me with my paper for Mrs. Teagues class. And it’s due tomorrow.” Peter groaned.

“Oh, the analysis essay? I could help you with that.” You offered.

“Really? You’d help me?” Peter smiled in surprise.

“Yeah. I already wrote mine. It would be no problem.”

Ned was watching this back and forth conversation for a while until it clicked it in head. He gasped and slapped the table, making you and Peter look at him.

“Oh my God.” Ned said. “That’s why you’re sitting here. You have a-“

“Can I talk to you for a second, Ned?” You quickly cut him off when you realized where that sentence was going. Before Ned could even answer, you grabbed his arm and pulled him outside the cafeteria to talk in private.

“You like Peter!” Ned whispered harshly. You clamped your hand over his mouth and pushed him up against the wall.

“You need to keep your mouth shut.” You hissed. “Yes, I like Peter, okay? I’ve had a crush on Peter since middle school. He never noticed me when Liz was around but now that she’s in Oregon, I might finally have my chance. I don’t want to scare him off so just keep your mouth shut and let me handle this.”

You took your hand off Ned’s mouth and he started to gasp for air.

“Oh, please. Your nose wasn’t covered. You could breathe just fine.” You said with a roll of your eyes. Ned stopped pretended and straightened up.

“So you actually like Peter? For his personality?”

“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Kinda, yeah.” Ned admitted.

“I like everything about him. And I’m gonna tell him that. Just please, don’t say anything before I do. I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“Are you going to cast a love spell on him using a lock of his hair?” Ned whispered to you.

“What? No. Why would you even ask me that?”

“Because you’re a witch.” Ned said like it was obvious.

“I’m not a witch.” You groaned. “I just accidentally cackled that one time but it was only because I had phlegm in my throat.”

“Then about that time on the bus?”

“We’ve been over this. It was just a coincidence that that biker fell off his bike after I gestured with my hand. I didn’t move him with my mind.”

“And that one time in physics?” Ned narrowed his eyes.

“I still don’t know how that guys shirt caught on fire.” You shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me.”

“It caught on fire after he made fun of you for being a witch.” Ned pointed out.

“Maybe he was just standing too close to the flame.” You shrugged.

“He was standing in the doorway. There was no flame.” Ned reminded you.

“The magic of science.” You shrugged again.

“But what about that time-“

“Don’t bring up the nosebleed.” You whined.

“I am gonna bring up the nosebleed.” Ned hissed. “In sixth grade, our Spanish teacher got a nosebleed right after he told you to stop staring out the window and made everyone laugh at you. How do you explain that?”

“You’ve made your point, okay? Now are you gonna tell Peter or not?”

“Look, I’m not gonna expose your gross secret feelings, as gross and secret as they may be.” Ned sighed. “But Peter is still my best friend so I have to look out for him. I don’t want any spells cast on him.”

“That’s fine. There will not be any spells.” You held your your hands in defense. Just then, Flash walked by and laughed when he saw the two of you talking.

“Woah. What is this, the friendless loser convention?” Flash snorted.

“Shut up.” You snapped. Flash immediately tripped over his feet and fell to the ground, making Ned look at you with wide eyes.

“Witch!” He whispered harshly as he pointed a finger at you.

“Shut up. Let’s go back inside.” You rolled your eyes and pulled Ned back into the cafeteria.

Later that day, you met up with Peter in the library to go over your assignments. You started with his English essay and finished that within an hour before moving on to your chemistry homework.

“You can plug the numbers into your formula now using the method I taught you. And then you just solve for x.” Peter explained as you worked out a problem together.

“Hm. You make it sound so simple.” You sighed and leaned on your hand. Peter saw the way you were staring at him in his peripheral vision and felt his face heat up.

“It’s, uh, it’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I never liked the way Mr. Eddie taught it. I figured this out myself and it’s worked much better for me.”

“Thanks for helping me. You’re a good teacher.” You said and put your hand on his arm. Peter laughed shyly at the contact and cleared his throat.

“Thanks. And so are you. That was the best essay I’ve ever produced. I honestly worry she won’t believe I wrote it.”

“Well if she says anything, I can vouch for you. You put in good work on this essay. You deserve the credit.” You assured him, making Peter blush all over again. It occurred to Peter that he never realized how pretty you were. You’d been classmates since 3rd grade so he always looked at you as just another girl in his class. Now that you had his full attention, he didn’t feel like looking away.

“Thanks. I appreciate you helping me write it. I know it can be frustrating to work with me because of my dyslexia.”

“It’s no problem. And it wasn’t frustrating at all.” You shrugged. Peter smiled at felt better about how long it took him to write the essay.

“Thanks.” He said. You had successfully gotten him to spend time with you one on one but now you needed to commence the next phase in your plan which was to hang out in a non school related setting.

“Would you ever want to hang out socially?” You blurted.

“Like, and not do homework?” He asked. You nodded your head and he smiled before nodding as well.

“Yeah. Sure. I’d love to.”

“Cool. Me too.” You smiled. You hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that but it worked nonetheless.

“Does this weekend work?” He asked you.

“Yeah. What do you want to do?”

Hard cut to that weekend. You were on the subway with Peter and he had his phone out to record himself.

“Firts social hang out with a girl. A film by Peter Parker.” He said in a low voice before flipping the camera to face you.

“Staring me.” You smiled and waved to the camera.

“Are you sure you’re cool with me filming this?” Peter asked as he flipped the camera back to himself.

“Yeah, of course. The other ones you showed me were so cute. But why did it seem like there were so many missing parts? You were always talking about something cool that I didn’t get to see.”

“Uhhh, no reason.” Peter said and looked to the side. He had skillfully edited out any incriminating superhero activity that you were not ready to see yet.

“Well I like it. I feel like I’m on Modern Family.” You said and posed for the camera.

“Which family member would you be?” Peter laughed and zoomed in on you. With his phone blocking his face, he could shamelessly admire your face on his screen.

“Duh. Lily.”

“I can so see that.” He chuckled. The subway lurched suddenly and you both grabbed onto the pole, coincidentally putting your hands in top of each others.

“Oh, sorry. Our hands touched.” You laughed shyly.

“Oh my God. So romantic.” Peter joked, making you blush and look into his camera.

“Stop it.” You laughed and covered his phone with your hand. He laughed as well and put his phone away.

After learn you had never been, Peter decided to the Lego Store. He’d been hyping it up to you all week over text and now that it was finally happening, he hoped it impressed you. You walked in together and Peter heard you gasp.

“Big Lego Aladdin.” You gasped and ran to stand under the giant magic carpet and Aladdin made of Legos.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that string of words come out of someone’s mouth.” Peter laughed and went to stand under it with you. You looked over at him and were surprised to see he was already looking at you.

“This is even better than you described it. You need to show me everything.” You said and excitedly shook his arm.

“I can do that.” He blushed and nodded his head towards some of the sets.

Peter took out his phone to film you as you looked at everything in the store. The way you were looking around like a little kid brought a smile to Peter’s face. He zoomed in on you and caught himself staring at you fondly through the camera.

“Come on. I haven’t even showed you the coolest part yet.” Peter said and brought you over to the build your figure own station. He laughed when you gasped again and started to excitedly rummage through all the pieces. Peter didn’t bring his phone out again until you had built each other.

“Show me what you made.” He laughed from the other side of the phone.

“Looks! It’s a little Peter. He has a backpack and a beaker.” You said as you proudly showed the camera the little Peter figure you had made.

“This is Y/n. I can’t believe I found the shoes you always wear.” He said as he filmed the figure he had made of you.

“You notice my shoes?” You asked with a smile. Peter didn’t catch it because he was too busy fitting the hands of your Lego figures together.

“Look. They’re holding hands.” Peter gasped.

“Aw.” You laughed. “Us on the subway.”

“We should give them some privacy. They might not want us to hard launch their relationship.” Peter said and put his phone away.

“You’re so cute.” You laughed without thinking about it. Peter looked up at you with rosy cheeks and you gulped when you realized what you said.

“I mean-“

“Come on. I wanna take you somewhere else.” He cut you off before you could explain. He brought you to Delmar’s and ordered his usual for you to split. You sat together inside and you tried your best to remain calm. You always wondered what Peter got up to when he wasn’t at school and now you were in one of his favorite places and eating with him.

“Okay, this is Y/n’s first time eating at Delmars since he reopened. Let’s get her reaction.” Peter said as he filmed you unwrapping the sandwich.

“Wait, why is it so flat?” You laughed and held the sandwich up.

“Oh, sorry.” He chuckled. “I forgot to warn you that he always squishes it for me. But you’ll like it. Trust me. It’s much better when it’s squished down real flat.”

“Well I’m glad I now know you like your sandwiches to be squished. I would not have expected that about you.” You said and took a bite of your half before giving him a thumbs up.

“Yeah? You like it?” He asked hopefully.

“I do. Your squishy sandwich was surprisingly good.” You admitted.

“Well, I’m very pleased to hear that.” Peter smiled and phone away. “So to make it even, you have to show me one of your favorite places next time we hang out.”

“Oh.” You smiled coyly. “I didn’t realize there would be a next time.”

“There better be. I had a lot of fun with you today. How come we’ve never hung out before?”

“I don’t know. I always wanted to but you were busy running around with Ned or staring at…” You trailed off and chose not to mention Liz in case he was still hung up on her.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad we’re friends now.” You said instead.

“Me too. I’ve never had a girl friend.”

“What was that?” You said and started choking on your saliva.

“All my friends in my life were guys. It’ll be nice to have a female influence in my life.”

“Oh. Girl friend.” You smiled tightly.

You hung out another hour before taking the subway back to your respective apartments. Peter walked to you the front doors of you building and you had an awkward moment where you didn’t know if you should hug or not.

“We uh, we should probably get an ending for your film.” You said with a timid smile.

“Oh, right. Thats a great idea.” Peter smiled and pulled out his phone. He pressed record and you waved to the camera with both hands.

“So, can you give our first time hanging out a rating?” He asked you.

“9/10.” You grinned and held up two thumbs.

“What? Why’d I only get a 9?” Peter scoffed and pretended to be offended.

“I had a 10/10 time but I have to deduct a point because we saw that guy cutting his hair on the subway and I was scared he was gonna throw the scissors at us.”

“Well I would’ve just protected you with my lightning fast reflexes.” Peter said simply. You smiled at him through the phone and he smiled back. He put the camera down and looked at you with a content smile on his face.

“Seriously, though. When’s the next time we’re hanging out?”

It ended up being just a few days later. And then again a few days after that.

“Peter’s first time!” You cheered as you filmed him during one of your hang outs.

“Trying boba.” He clarified. “I don’t understand this drink. Do I eat the balls?”

“Yes. Sip it slowly so they don’t all go down your throat.” You instructed. Peter took a big sip and immediately started choking.

“Peter! I said slowly!” You said as you slapped his back until he stopped choking. You quickly put the camera down to help him recover.

Your hangouts started getting more and more frequent and Peter soon considered you a best friend. Your weekends became each others and school days were often spent together in the library or at one of your apartments. You were quickly moving up the ranks in Peter’s life, just as you hoped. And the closer you got, the more Peter could not believe he had never noticed you before.

Little did you know, Peter often found himself watching the footage he had taken of you during your hang outs with a big smile on his face. He’d rewatch the videos he had taken and realize that they were slowly becoming less of a documentary and more of a highlight reel for you. He never imagined a girl as cool as you would for him so when he realized he was starting to fall for you, he quickly repressed his feelings. Little did he know, the feelings were mutual.

“Did you always make these little videos?” You asked Peter one day as he filmed you trying to balance on the curb of the sidewalk.

“I used too make them all the time but I hadn’t for awhile. I only started them again when we started hanging out.”

“Really? Why?” You wondered and stumbled off the curb.

“I don’t know. You remind me of the time before my life got crazy. It made me want to do these again.” He shrugged. You couldn’t help but smile at that information and turned around to look at him.

“So I could be the star?” You asked and posed for the camera.

“Exactly. You’re my muse.” He played along, making you laughed shyly. When he watched the video back later that night, he knew he had meant every word of that.

Peter sat in his bedroom one day and filmed himself wearing your glasses while you did homework at his desk. He looked over you every now and then just to admire the back of your head.

“Don’t break those.” You called without looking up. All you needed to hear was the sound of your glasses case opening to know what he was doing.

“I’m not even wearing your glasses.” He lied and admired himself in the camera.

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not. But yes, I am.”

“Knew it.” You snorted.

“Hey, how come girls always smell so good?” Peter wondered. “Your hair hit me in the face when you turned too fast before it smelled like a baby in a damn meadow.”

“It’s just my womanly essence. Now can you stop looking at yourself long enough to help me with my chemistry homework?”

“It’ll be hard but I can try.” Peter dramatically sighed and set his phone down. You got yo from the desk and went over to the bed with a cheeky smile on your face.

“Incoming.” You announced and patted your elbow twice like a wrestler.

“No, don’t.” He pleaded. You ignored his pleas and jumped on top of him. He groaned and pushed you off, leaving you laying in the bed beside him.

“Ow. My ribs.”

“You’ll heal.” You rolled your eyes. “Now can you help me with number 7?”

“Oh, yeah. No problem. Can you check this email before I send it?” He asked and handed over his laptop. You handed him your worksheet before reading over his email draft.

“Oh, honey.” You grimaced just a few words into the email.

“Is it bad?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Howard. I hope this email finds you well. I’m so sorry for bothering you. I was just wondering if I could possibly have an extension on my midterm paper? No worries at all if an extension is not possible. I apologize for any inconvenience this email may have caused. Thank you for reading, Peter Parker.” You read out loud.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“After your name, you included the name of the class, the time you have it, and a description of yourself. She knows who you are!” You laughed and turned the laptop around to show him his mistakes.

“She may have forgotten.” He pointed out. “I can’t take any chances.”

“Peter, this email is way too submissive. You sound like such a bottom.”

“Well excuse me, genius.” He said sarcastically. “How would you write it?”

“Here.” You said and handed the laptop back after retyping his email.

“Oh, wow. That’s actually really good.” He said once he read your updated version.

“This is why we are such good friends. You have all the math and science knowledge in this little, beautiful head of yours-“

“Little?” He interrupted.

“You’re right. Sorry, I was just being nice. What I meant to say is that your head is huge.” You corrected. “Anyways, you have the math brain and I have the literary brain. It’s like you’re Einstein and I’m Victor Hugo.”

“Who the hell is that?” He laughed as he peaked at your mirror to see if his head was actually huge.

“The guy who wrote Les Mis.” You said like it was obvious.

“Never heard of it.”

“What? You’ve never seen Les Misérables?” You asked in a thick French accent.

“Huh?”

“We have to watch it. It’s so good.” You said and snatched his laptop back. You pulled up the movie and handed it back to him.

“Oh my God. It’s two hours and 38 minutes long? And a musical? Hell no.” Peter shook his head and pushed the laptop away.

“But it’s so good.” You urged. “We can just leave it on in the background while we work. It’s super light and easy to watch.”

“Really? What’s it about?”

“Oh, you know. Just war torn France.” You mumbled.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“But you’ll like it! There’s prostitution and con men and um…oh! And orphans! You can watch it and feel represented.” You said and shook his arm.

“I hate you.” He laughed but nearly gave in to your request just to see you happy.

“Fine.” You huffed. “I finished editing your midterm paper, by the way. You don’t actually have to send that email.”

“And here is your completed chemistry homework.” Peter smiled and handed your worksheet back.

“Aw.” You gushed. “Look at us. I love cheating with you.”

“So do I. We make a great pairing.” He chuckled as he looked over at you. You looked back at him and gulped. You hadn’t realized how close you were with your arms and legs pressed against each other as you sat together in your bed. Peter knew his sheets would smell like your perfume that night and smiled at the thought.

“Now that we’re all done with our work, you know what we should do?” He asked as he moved in closer.

“W-what should we do?” You stuttered now that he was right there.

“You know what I’ve been dying to do with you for a long, long time?” He asked.

“No. I mean, I don’t know. What?” You laughed nervously. Peter moved in even closer and right when you thought he was gonna kiss you, he reached over and grabbed his laptop back.

“I wanted to show you a real musical. Not this French miserable bull crap. Have you ever seen a little movie called Hair-“

“No. I’m not watching Hairspray with you again. You scream-sang every lyric last time and I couldn’t even hear it.” You cut him off and reached over home to take the laptop back. He pulled it away at the last second and you ended up on top of him. You looked into each others eyes and both froze in the positions you were in. Your faces were almost touching but neither of you tried to pull away. Your eyes were going back and forth between his lips and eyes and he was doing the same. Like magnets, you two started to lean towards each other but before your lips could connect, May opened the door.

“What did you guys want- oh! Sorry! I didn’t realize I would be interrupting something. My bad.” May smiled sheepishly and pretended to cover her eyes. Peter burned bright red as you quickly climbed off of him.

“May.” He said warningly.

“Sorry. But maybe lock the door next time. And use protection.”She whispered the last part before shutting the door.

“May!” He groaned and threw a pillow at the door. There was a long, awkward silence before you were even able to look at each other. When you finally did, you smiled awkwardly and kept your distance.

“That was so weird. What did she think we were doing?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.

“Psh. I know.” Peter scoffed. “She said she was interrupting but we weren’t even doing anything.”

“Yeah. What did she think? That we were gonna kiss or something?” You asked and laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing you could ever suggest.

“Us? Kissing? How silly. Imagine that.” Peter forced a laugh as well and looked to the side. The awkward silence returned and you struggled to look at each other.

“Do you think she made dinner?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.

“Let’s check.” You said and quickly got off the bed.

You didn’t discuss the almost kiss and went home shortly after. You couldn’t sleep that night because you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your mind. No matter how much you wanted him to like you back, if Peter reciprocated your feelings, he would have kissed you.

Your pity party didn’t last long because on the subway the next day, you felt Peter put his earbud in your ear. You heard the Les Mis soundtrack playing in your ear and looked up in surprise. Peter was already filming you with a huge smile on his face.

“This guy 24601 should stop stealing bread and stick to singing. He has serious pipes.” Peter said.

“You listened to it?” You melted into a smile and held your hand over your heart.

“Yep. I stayed up all night watching lyric videos because I couldn’t understand what they were saying with their accents. It’s actually really good. I love Eponine. I just wish Marious wasn’t such an idiot. How does he not see that his best friend is clearly in love with him?” Peter asked with exasperation. You looked directly at the camera and hoped it picked up the irony before looking at Peter again.

“He’s not an idiot. He’s a romantic.” You sighed. “He doesn’t notice Eponine because he’s in love with Cosette. And course he is. She’s prettier and richer and has perfect hair. He doesn’t even see Eponine.”

“Good hair isn’t everything. Eponine is way better than Cosette.” Peter scoffed. “I’m team Eponine all the way.”

“Are you really?” You asked hopefully.

“Oh, for sure. I see why you like this stuff. These songs are awesome.” Peter said and put the other earbud in his ear. He then flipped the camera around to film the two of you sharing earbuds. As Heart Full Of Love played in your ears, you couldn’t help but longingly staring at Peter. The fact that he had stayed up late just to listen to something you suggested made you overcome with fondness for him. If he had done something like that, maybe he actually did feel the same.

“I forgot how good this album is. I haven’t listened in a while. I used to listen to it all the time back when you…” You stopped short when you realized you were about to say too much.

“When I what?” Peter wondered. You looked him in the eyes and decided that it was time to be honest. The song ended and a new, much louder one began to play in your ears.

“Back when you liked Liz. She was Cosette. I was Eponine. I was the one pining after a guy who never noticed me because he was in love with another girl. You were never mine to lose.” You admitted. Peter stared at you for a minute before pulling his earbud out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear a word you just said. Master of the House is such a banger. What did you say?” He asked you.

“Never mind.” You smiled. “It wasn’t important.”

He smiled back before getting a text on his phone. You looked at his phone when you heard it buzz and realized he was still recording. In other words, he had just recorded you saying you liked him. Your eyes went wide but you only had a second to panic when you read the text he had gotten.

“Did Liz just text you?” You asked in a quiet voice. You felt like you were about to throw up. Years of crushing on a boy who liked another girl turned into months of pinning for your best friend and now turned into a rock in your stomach. Peter stopped recording the two of you to answer her text, which felt a little like a slap in the face.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve been talking lately.” He absentmindedly replied to you as he laughed at whatever she had written.

“You have?” You asked with a dry mouth.

“Yeah. She says Oregon is pretty cool. But she wants to come back and visit this summer to see everyone.” He told you.

“And see you?” You asked with a sad smile.

“I guess so.” He shrugged. “It would be nice to see her.”

“Yeah. Totally.” You said weakly. “So how long have you guys been talking?”

“I don’t know. A few weeks? She texted me a little while ago and we’ve been catching up.”

“That’s awesome.” You lied.

“I know. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again after she moved.”

“Neither did I.” You said through a forced smile. You needed to get off the subway and away from Peter before you started crying. So as soon as the subway doors opened, you bolted out.

“I gotta go. See you later.” You called to him before running through the subway station. You wiped tears as you went up the stairs and didn’t stop moving until you were in a bathroom stall at school. You gave yourself five minutes to be upset before drying your face and leaving the bathroom. It sucked, but it could have been worse. Now, Peter never had to know how you felt about it.

Peter was beyond confused by your exit on the subway but he wasn’t about to get any answers from you. You dodged his texts throughout the day and didn’t dare go into the lunchroom where you knew he and Ned would be.

“Y/n isn’t here yet?” Peter’s huffed as he sat down at your usual lunch table.

“Not yet. Actually, I haven’t seen your girlfriend all day.” Ned realized.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter blushed. “And I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding me. She’s been so weird ever since this morning. Everything was fine on the subway until we got to school.”

“Well did anything happen on the subway that would weird her out? Oh no. Did you graze her boob with your hand again?”

“No. That was one time. And it was her boobs fault, not mine.” Peter whispered harshly. “We were just listening to music together and I was filming her like normal. But she could not get away from me faster once the doors opened. It was so weird.”

“Did you say anything weird to her? Girls don’t like it when you say weird things to them.”

“I know that. I didn’t say anything weird.” Peter replied as he pulled out his phone. He watched the video he had taken on the subway with no sound to see where he had gone wrong. All he saw was you looking at him with heart eyes which made his face heat up. But still, no evidence of where he messed up.

“I knew it. We were having a normal conversation about Les Mis and then I got a text from and then she ran. It makes no sense.”

“What was the text? Was it May saying something weird?”

“No. And stop saying weird. It doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.” Peter ordered. “And the text was just from Liz.”

“Oh shit.” Ned said when he heard this.

“What?” Peter wondered.

“Oh, Peter.” Ned sighed. “Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“What?” He asked again, annoyed now.

“Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or just keep saying my name?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m sworn to secrecy. And I don’t want Y/n to put a hex on my family.” Ned said and held up his hands.

“Y/n swore you to secrecy? About what?”

“Can’t say.” Ned shrugged and zipped his lips.

“Does she not like Liz? And doesn’t want me to know?”

“Dude. Dude, dude, dude, dude. You are so close but so far.”

“So she does like Liz? Oh my God. Does she a crush on Liz? And she’s jealous that Liz texted me and not her?” Peter whispered with wide eyes.

“You’re getting colder.” Ned waved his hand. “I don’t even know how you got there.”

“That was all my guesses. Just tell me.” Peter whined.

“Hell no. I don’t want Y/n to curse my crops and make not grow for all of eternity.”

“You don’t have crops.” Peter pointed out.

“I could develop some.” Ned snapped.

“I just don’t understand what she would tell you something but not tell me. We’re best friends. She usually tells me everything.” Peter said right as his thumb accidentally hit the volume button on the video. Your confession to Peter on the subway was heard loud and clear by the two boys. Both of their jaws dropped as the video ended with you asked if Liz had just texted Peter.

“Well I wouldn’t have beaten around the bush like that if I knew you had video evidence of her saying she liked you right in your hands.” Ned sighed dramatically.

“I need to find her.” Peter said and ran out of the lunchroom. He looked around the school until he found you under the bleachers in the gym. You were sitting with your back against the wall and your knees drawn to your chest with your earbuds in your ears. When you saw Peter coming up to you, you quickly pulled them out.

“Hey.” He said and waved cautiously.

“Hey.” You smiled sadly as he sat beside you. You sat in silence for a minute as neither of you knew what to say.

“What’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you all day.” He started off. You looked at your hands to avoid making eye contact and sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been talking to Liz?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t hiding it. I just didn’t think it would interest you.”

“Well you have no idea how interesting I found it.” You laughed dryly. “What do you guys talk about anyway?”

“Well, she originally texted me to ask me to confirm I had an internship at Stark Industries because her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she knew a guy who worked there. Apparently he’s been trying to get an internship there for years and he wanted to know how I landed mine. Then we just started catching up. I only talk to her here and there, though. And it’s only ever about school or work.”

“Oh. I thought you guys were talking talking.” You couldn’t help but smile a little when you heard the word “boyfriend.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Just regular talking. When you saw her text on my phone, she was telling me about her cat getting spaded. And I didn’t know what that meant so she had to tell me. I should’ve just googled it.”

You laughed softly at that and he did too. The tension was let out of the conversation and you could finally breathe again. When you stopped laughing, you finally looked in his eyes.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” You asked quietly.

“For her? No.” He laughed. “Those are long gone. I have feelings for someone else now.”

“Oh God. Don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.” You groaned and buried your face in your hands. Peter looked at you for a minute until an idea came to him.

“Actually, uh, I came looking for you because I was just making another video. Wanna be in it?” Peter asked and took out his phone. You looked at him like he was crazy and could not believe he had just asked that during that moment.

“I’m not really in the mood right now, P.”

“Come on. I can’t make it without my muse.” He said and nudged you slightly. You couldn’t help but to smile at that and reluctantly nodded. He propped up his phone against the bleachers and pressed record.

“In a world where two best friends have no idea how to communicate despite spending way too much time together.” Peter said in a fake deep, gravely voice.

“Okay. Shade. That’s fine.”

“What will it take for them to admit they have feelings for each other?” He kept the voice as he looked at you.

“Wait, what?” You asked and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. Peter smiled softly at you and shrugged a little.

“What’s it gonna take?” He asked again in his normal voice.

“I don’t understand.” You laughed nervously.

“I watched the video from before. From the subway. I heard what you said.” He admitted.

“Oh shit. You watched it?” You grimaced.

“Uh huh. So if you’re Eponine, I guess that makes me the idiot who didn’t realize his best friend was in love with him?”

“I guess so.” You said with a tight smile and still didn’t understand why he wanted to film this incredibly awkward conversation.

“You know, if I didn’t have a video of it, I never would have believed that you liked me.” Peter told you.

“You wouldn’t? Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t seem possible that the coolest girl I’ve ever met liked me.” He replied.

“You think I’m cool?” You asked skeptically.

“I think you’re the coolest. And you know, I watch the videos I take of you all the time. And half of them are just clips of you existing. So I do notice you. It just took me a second to catch up.” He told you. A smile tugged at your lips as you stared into his big brown eyes.

“You’re my best friend.” You told him. “I’m sorry I want more.”

“I’m not sorry.” He shrugged.

“You’re not?”

“I’m just sorry it took me so long to wake up and find that what I’ve been looking for has been here the whole time.” He said as he hooked his pinky under your chin and brought your face close to his.

“Wait, why does that sound so familiar?” You wondered.

“Don’t think about it too hard.” Peter whispered right before your lips touched. You kissed for the first time under the bleachers but it could have been in a palace for all you knew. The world disappeared around you as Peter slipped a hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads together and laughed nervously together. It was a good nervous, a happy feeling of anticipation.

“Was that Taylor Swift?” You realized when you finally placed where you knew that like from.

“Shh. No.” He shook his head. “But yes, it was. You’re not the only one with good music taste.”

Tag List 🏷️

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[limerlove]

tattoo artist!vi who takes notice of just how beautiful you are the moment you step foot in her shop. it’d be the most difficult task in the world to not notice just how insanely breathtaking you are. it’s clear by the smirk on your glossy lips. you know just how good you look. caitlyn, being the woman she is, tries to jump in first. you’re just her type. violet would know, cait’s dated the anti-thesis of her since the moment you broke up. caitlyn kiramman loves pretty girls. anything she can do to be underneath them, she’ll find a way. you fit her bill. violet tried not to take offense of the ways your eyes light up taking to her ex-girlfriend. maybe you’re just nice. that’s it, right? two minutes, someone who is almost as gorgeous as you walks in and then violet forgets about you as her next client walks in. she tries to at least.

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t stop thinking about you. it’s new york. there’s plenty of pretty girls she can drown herself in. well, if she could figure out how to ask someone out without her crippling anxiety suffocating her. she knows she’s somewhat attractive but her lack of knowing how to efficiently communicate it without sound like the weirdest fuck who has ever lived gets lost in translation. she doesn’t like how sure cait is of herself when she talks about you though. violet doesn’t even know you but seeing the glint in those aquatic-blue eyes make her want to punch something. it’s hard to even tell if it due to her budding crush or that it’s her ex. probably both but she ignores it.

tattoo artist!vi who likes to frequent bars on her days off. it’s when she doesn’t feel alone. it’s fun to bug her sister, powder. she’s always been more of a free spirit out of the two of them. an artist, a wanderer, someone who choses to bartend a couple nights out of the week just because she liked meeting new people, learning their story, what makes them tick. are they a mean drunk, happy, or will they burst into tears when you ask them how they’re doing? vi isn’t either really. she’s quiet, calm even, but tonight part of her wants to cry. she feels lonely, lost, and even a little bit upset caitlyn is your first choice. she only knows your name because of the clientele list and that just feels pathetic. violet’s never been the smoothest of talkers, she knows that more than she feels the blood coursing through her veins. she isn’t the girl and she’s perfectly fine with it. perfectly. fine.

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t even enjoy work anymore. three months in and you’ve been cait’s girlfriend and the feeling only gets worse. it’s cliché. a little fucked, but being in love with her ex’s girlfriend? it doesn’t get any lower than this. she let it slip days ago, only to powder, thank fucking god. if violet knew one thing, she didn’t wanna deal with caitlyn’s wrath. according to maddie, she’d been a dog with a bone when it came to you. so protective it nearly turned into possession. she wanted everyone to know that you were hers and not anyone else’s. it wasn’t new to violet, cait didn’t like being runner up to anyone. it’s why their relationship ended in the first place, especially when the girlfriend feels inferior to the sister. when powder comes around to the shop, cait can’t help but wear her disgust all over her face like a poorly concealed mask. vi thinks it’s silly. the both of them are nearly the same it’s almost sickening. if only the other took the time to know the object of their disdain, they would see two peas sitting in a pod.

tattoo artist!vi who hates a messy shop. when personal items are left behind or someone’s station isn’t properly sanitized and clean. it’s why she’s here, alone on the sunday, the only day the shop is closed. it’s been too long since she did a deep clean, just a week or too, but that’s long enough for her. she’s always been proud of what she’s been able to accomplish her. even if she didn’t have much, a girlfriend to love on, or if her father was on the other side of the country, she had this. violet ink. it was her name out on the sign over seeing the street, the luminous violet led lights kissing the downtown street. she made it this far and she couldn’t let anyone run her off from something she fought so hard to build from the ground up. it’s why she was surprised when she saw you. your face free of makeup, your hair in it’s natural state, and you appeared more laid back than you ever were — in her shop. it feels like a fever dream she never wishes to wake up from. cait must have given you a spare key to the shop which she would have a discussion with her about that later because what the fuck? but it’s hard for her to stay mad when you’re standing there looking like a million bucks in the most casual pair of sweats she’s ever seen. it feels different to who you usually are. shredded of the image you maintain, stripped back, there’s just a softer version of yourself and vi can’t help but contemplate if this is the side you’re so reluctant to show.

tattoo artist!vi who stutter how some stupid joke, trying to break the ice and it should have made things more awkward than they already were but your laugh full of symphonies just makes violet smile. in her best efforts, she craves to conceal it from you but it’s impossible when you’re looking at her. she can’t help but smile — so she does. desperately, violet tries not to act nervous when you’re looking at her designs on the wall, not saying a word, just inspecting. there’s a chill in her bones she feels, a need for her work to be loved because if it isn’t? it eats her up from the inside out. maybe it’s embarrassing but she needs her work to be loved. what’s the point if it isn’t? it’s always been an extension of her soul, her life, and if someone doesn’t like it? all they say is they don’t like her. it may be the silliest thing in the world, but she needs to be adored. from a complete stranger, from the people who she’s permanently tattooing, and especially from the beautiful women violet can’t stop daydreaming about.

tattoo artist!vi who blushes when you tell her how much you love her designs. there’s a soft touch to her shoulder, your thumb lightly tracing circles in her sturdy bicep. it feel innocent enough but vi doesn’t give herself much time to think about it. painfully, she takes note in how your eyes soar when they make contact with her designs. even if it makes her cocky, violet knows she’s good at her job. clients flying in from all over the country, just to get tattooed by her. with your undeniable charm, you’ve convinced her to do a custom design for you but you wanna discuss it on sunday’s, alone. if anything, she should know this isn’t a good idea. you’re charming, gorgeous and the prettiest thing she’s ever seen. she should be afraid of caitlyn’s wrath, of what would happen if she found out, but it’s innocent…right? she’s a professional. no matter how much she’s attracted to a client, it’s never been an issues and she certainly won’t make it one now. vi nods and the second she does, you’re leaping in her arms, into her space. you smell of lavender and lilies, like spring in the beginning of march. a sun-kissed marvel aching for the shine of summer, for one breath of fresh air. it’s really all she wants, a moment to be in the sunshine with you, if only for a moment at least she could tell the moon about it. her best kept secret and she would cherish every bit of it. 

tattoo artist!vi who tries to keep her head down low as the weeks carry on. even when you try to make more of an effort to speak with her, the last thing she needs is caitlyn to take one final look at her and realize just how much she likes the attention. maddie already made one comment, even if it was light-hearted — it’s enough to keep her on edge. with the design being complete, all she needs is to tattoo but violet’s been avoiding you and what’s worse? you knew it too. in her true avoidant style, violet failed to go to the shop the last two weeks on sunday. the tidiness and damn right organization of her shop was suffering but she still had plans of avoiding it. rather avoiding you, but in her forest fire of a mind, it comes all the same. all of this is so trivial, so stupid, so tragic. it’s kiramman’s day off and violet and sevika are the only artists on hand today which means she’s overworked. the both of them are tired and violet just completed her last session of the day. she sneaks to the back enjoying the cigarette she’d been itching to have. violet’s on her second one when you corner her into the brick wall she’s leaning on. you’re too close. dangerously close, almost as if the fire you’ve created in violet’s lungs might cause her to burn from the inside out. it’s chilling how silent you are until you aren’t. you’re loud about the way you caress her exposed biceps, tracing the lines of her intricate tattoo as it crawls up shoulders and so do your hands. with a sharp graze, you scrap your nails across her skin as if you want to leave a reminder that she was in fact here. should she even even be here? letting you touch her in the way you are? but it’s not like vi has much of a choice when you push the hem of her tank top up to her ribcage, showcasing the flexing abs on her abdomen. it may be faint but there’s a happy trail, one violet wants to see your lips on but she’s scared to say anything, to move, to breathe. “caitlyn said you were ripped underneath. i wanted to see for myself.” then your touch is gone and you are with it. 

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t show up on sunday…for the first couple of hours. violet thinks of that night, the way you touched her, like you knew exactly what to do before she even could think of what she wanted next. how on earth did you manage to paralyze her with a mere flick of your wrist? when your nails clawed at her toned abdomen, violet felt the stickiness in her boxers and you’d done all of nothing. she had to put an end to things, the private session, violet couldn’t do it. she didn’t want to be caught in some weird and perversed love triangle with her ex. in the back of her throat, violet feels the lump she constantly has to swallow. the only reasonable explanation is that this, you, is all some weird fantasy of caitlyn to get the last laugh. to fully degrade her in a way she couldn’t, not when you’re the person who gets broken up with. it’s not a secret caitlyn’s ego had taken a hit. to anyone, not being the first choice stings but to cait? it might as well be a death sentence and certainly it wouldn’t stand. 

tattoo artist!vi who isn’t one for confrontation but in the need to savor some of her salvation in her dignity, she walks in the shop. you’re still waiting for her. two hours later, you’d hoped she’d show. ”violet, you came.” it’s endearing but violet also sees herself the night before tangled in her black sheets, vibrator on its highest setting as she applies pressure to her clit, fingers nestled so deep inside her cunt as she hears your voice, thinks about your irresistible lips. violet wonders what you sound like when you come and suddenly the thought sends her hurling towards the edge. the smile you offer is almost like you can see right through her, like you know vi came to the idea of you just the night before. 

with a slender smile, you make your way over to her and suddenly the internal dialogue she created to put an end to this arrangement died on your tongue when she shrugs vi’s leather jacket off. she’s only wearing her wrap to cover her chest, not intending on staying for a long time. definitely not enough to finish the beautiful design she created for you. she’d get cait to do it. their styles were similar to it. your girlfriend has to do this. but you’re touching her bare skin. vi is losing focus as she feels the control slip into your greedy fingers. 

“i know what you’re gonna say.” 

“and what’s that?” 

“you wanna stop this, meeting me here, you feel like you’re betraying someone you love and you have too much integrity to keep seeing someone you so obviously want to fuck.” 

“i can’t—” but the words die on violet’s tongue. 

“sense won’t get to you, that’s something caitlyn didn’t understand. you think with your heart of gold. when it drips for someone, you’d let it bleed out if it meant you were saving someone.” you take a pause, slipping off your shirt as your pierced nipples are exposed. violet nearly begins to drool, her eyes unable to look away from your perfect nipples, the swell of your breast how perfectly they fall on your chest, she’s nearly salivating to be offered a taste. “my girlfriend doesn’t understand you’ve found someone else to be loyal to.” 

“this is not, um, i didn’t—” 

sweetly, you kiss her cheek. “it’s such a bitch isn’t it? your heart wants whatever the fuck it yearns for, no damn mercy on who it hurts.”  

violet can only think of how much she wants to be suffocated by your tits, forever trapped in this venus fly trap you’ve caused her to succumb to. with her best foot forward, she wants to tell you to go to hell, that you’re wrong about her — she would never do something like this — until she does. it’s all tongue and teeth, vitriol and lust spills into her mouth as violet pushes you on the bench, ripping your skirt to shreds with her bare hands. only to find nothing underneath. 

bent over the table, ass up in the air, violet wastes not a single moment and stuffs her face in your fat ass. with a gratifying need, she splits your folds on her tongue as she slaps your ass making you whimper and cry out for her name. it’s beautiful, violet thinks. someone needing her to bring them to the edge, and god, you aren’t shy about it either. never has she heard anyone be so loud and proud about sex. so goddamn confident in each moan you let fall from pornogrpahic lips, it’s damn invigorating. the first one comes easily, you spill over vi’s tongue as she moans back into your weeping pussy, liquid gushing over her face violet never wants it to end. the second time violet fucks you with her fingers, stuffing and fucking until there isn’t any part of you that isn’t undeniably shaking. the third time, you’re on top of her, the two of you finding comfortablity on the cot in the break room as violet lets you fuck her. 

exactly what she expects it to be; hot, rough, fast. slippery pussy rubbing against hers until you collapse on top of her, breast pressed against her binded ones. you have a feeling they are there for a reason and you don’t push, for once in your life, you let yourself succumb to sleep as you fall asleep in her arms. 

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t see you for three months after she had the best sex of her life. even if it does sting, vi knows it’s for the best. six months in and you’re still with caitlyn despite your best efforts. surprising everyone, but violet for different reasons, you admit your slip up to cait but she forgives you. maddie and sevika make a game of it, trying to guess who make you cheat and when violet’s name comes up jokingly, caitlyn’s words leave an unsettling pit in her stomach. 

c’mon, what is violet going to do? look at her. she’s as loyal as a trained dog and i have you trained. don’t i, cupcake? 

tattoo artist!vi who focuses on her work, like a trained dog, she falls back into her routine. sunday’s aren’t as pleasurable as they were with you, or one sunday she should say, but she dismisses the thought altogether. pushing it to the deepest parts of her mind becomes the only viable option. she uses other forms of entertainment to get her mind off of you. powder thinks it’s a good idea to be here but she refuses to step foot in here with her. this is where my path ends, sis. i’ll be just up the hill when you’re ready. a not so subtle wink has her cringing and flipping her off blue-haired braided sister off in the process. this is such a good stupid idea but violet doesn’t manage to convince herself out of this situation she’s conducted for herself. anyways, it’s one night? no one ever has to know. from the moment she steps into the strip club, she knows she never should have been here. she keeps to the bar as she changes songs from the jukebox a few times. this has never been her scene nor will it ever. as she finishes off her class of neat whiskey, the familiar voice whispers into her ear, never thought you’d be here but i guess we’re both full of surprises.

[mygnolia]

to weave my love ⭒ n. riki [TEASER]

⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.

⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader

⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, comfort ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 6-10k (est.)

⭒ RELEASE DATE -› IT'S HEREEEEEEEE YAYYYY

⭒ REN SAYS... spiderman niki is a need hes so cute i love riki sm 😕🫵 also poll voted for this and tbh i just wanna write downbad riki LOLZ | LIBRARY

“God, I don’t think you can look at her any more down bad than you already do right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.

“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he watches you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last night. Let me have this before I die in a week.”

“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair. “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response.

Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.”

His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.”

The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.”

Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.”

“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up to her balcony in my suit. Do that cheesy upside kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spiderman thing, but prom definitely.”

Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, his eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter.

“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.

“Are you going to prom, Riki?” Is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm.

“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah- whatever confidence he had 37 minutes ago really isn’t serving him well in this moment, because frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?”

“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes.

“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”

You think about it, really- because you don’t really have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to someone I know- someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”

Nishimura Riki might die from overthinking if he keeps wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.

RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM ☐ talk to ____ regularly ☐ don't make it awkward ☐ be..cute?

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[bumblesimagines]

Headcanon:

Dating Misty Quigley

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

CW/TW: it's Misty fucking Quigley.

~~~

Misty Quigley is an... odd girl, for lack of a better word. While she's not considered a total social pariah like Natalie, she's not popular like Jackie or Shauna. Misty Quigley blends in the background. Misty Quigley goes unnoticed. Misty Quigley is another face in the crowd nobody glances twice at. She knows it. She desperately wants it to be different. 

She's not quite a Yellowjacket, something she's reminded of whenever the team goes out to parties and she remains uninvited or when she pipes up with an idea and the girls exchange amused glances. Nobody takes her seriously and nobody really wants to be friends with her. Until you, (Y/N) Ibarra. 

You scope out the classroom as classmates shuffle around desks to ask their friends if they'd like to partner up before someone else snatches them up. Your attention settles on your sister first and then slides further down the row of desks to the blonde sitting by her lonesome. Misty.

"Hey," Mari leaned her hip against your desk, her lips quirking up into a familiar grin that tells you her part of the project will end up on your lap if you agree. "You wanna partner up?"

"I don't know." You reply, more focused on the way Misty goes utterly ignored by everyone walking past her desk. She perks up the moment someone steps by only to slump back into her chair when they keep walking. "I think I'll ask Misty." 

Mari makes a face immediately, her lip curling into barely disguised disgust. "Seriously?" Her eyes flicker to the girl. "You want to partner with four-eyes?" 

"I feel bad for her." You shrug, curling your hand around the strap if your backpack as you stand up and sling it over your shoulder. "She seems... nice." 

Mari arches a brow but throws her hands up. "It's your funeral." She mutters under her breath and spins on her heel to approach Akilah instead. 

You slip through the tight spaces between desks and step over fallen backpacks until you reach the desk Misty always sits at each day without failure. She doesn't look up this time, probably expecting to be working alone as always. It's a little pitying. 

"Hey, Quigley," You greet her, and her head shoots up so quickly that her glasses slide a little down her nose. 

"H-Hey!" Her voice is a pitch higher than usual, and her wide, brown eyes sparkle with hope. She nudges her glasses back to their former place and smiles tentatively. "D-Do you need something?" 

"I was, uh.. wondering if you had a partner yet? Mari's partnering with Akilah and David's out all week on that family emergency so.. I thought-" 

"Absolutely!" Misty perks right up, her smile widening before she blinks and clears her throat, a little blush dusting over her freckled cheeks. "I mean, no, I don't have a partner. I'd love to work with you." She giggles sheepishly. 

"Awesome." 

Misty has a habit of latching onto anyone who shows her even the slightest bit of positive attention. She can't help it, she yearns for it. She lives for it. So, the moment you come out like a knight in shining armor, it's over. She develops a crush then and there.

Misty isn't great at socializing. She rambles quite a bit when she gets nervous, stammering and backtracking constantly while she fumbles to get a grip. This heightens around her crush. She wants so badly to be your friend, to keep your attention. 

Of course, after the project is said and done, in her mind you're already her friend. I mean, why else have you stuck around so long? It couldn't be just for the grade, right? You even did your part of the project instead of coaxing her into doing everything like so many others have done! Obviously, you want to be her friend, right?

Once this assumption is locked in her head, she begins seeking you out. She learns your schedule, both school schedule and after school, so she can optimize as much time as possible. She's first out the door when classes end so she can walk beside you down the halls on the way to the next class. Don't worry if you see her pop up around your favorite hangout spots. She's just like that.

Misty can get just a smidge obsessive. She wants to learn everything about you: your favorite meals, your favorite bands, your favorite color, your favorite authors, everything. She wants to know how to appear interesting and appealing to you. This means occasionally badgering Mari, who definitely doesn't want to spend more than a second in her presence.

Mari isn't a fan of this bubbling friendship. She doesn't like Misty. She thinks she's a little weird freak like most people do. She's first to laugh at Misty's shortcomings or make a face when Misty says something she doesn't understand. It grates on Misty's nerves but for you, she'll put up with it forever if she has to. 

Misty's a big people pleaser and more observant than people give her credit for. She'll immediately pick up if you're stressed or in a down mood and she'll want to remedy that asap. There is no other option. Be it getting you some sweets or cracking jokes that make no sense 'cause they're full of references you can't quite understand, she's doing everything she can to make you feel better. 

Of course, Misty is a little... intense. When this intensity manifests with her emotions like jealousy or anger, it can make her act impulsive though she can be very meticulous about plans she forms on an impulse. God forbid she notices someone else flirting with you or hears about Mari wanting to set you up. It'll drive her crazy and when Misty gets crazy, people get hurt.

Misty isn't afraid to get her hands dirty or ruin someone's life. She'll form a plan to ensure you don't even consider the person she's jealous of, whether it's by sabotaging them or upright telling you 'rumors' she'd heard. Anything to make that person undesirable in your eyes. It's for your own good. Nobody will make you as happy as she can.

Of course, it's not hard being friends with Misty. She's generally pretty upbeat, caring, and she's always eager (and available) to spend time with you. She's always happy to listen to you talk about anything and everything, especially 'cause it lets her take mental notes of things you mention that she can look into later. 

Eventually, however, she gets tired of waiting around for you to up and realize how much she's meant to be with you. Of course, Misty's more than happy to take matters into her own hands.

Misty watches you explore her bedroom from her spot on the bed, her fingertip tracing the thread of her thick, floral-patterned comforter. Her room was naturally tidy but she'd taken time to triple-check that there wasn't a single thing out of place when you agreed to come over. 

All the good classics were propped up on display for you to look over and realize how smart she is. Most girls her age read the latest magazines or don't even read at all, but not her. She could whip out a quote from Allegory of the Cave or recite any line from the Iliad if you asked. 

She fixed herself up a bit for you. She dabbled on a little baby pink lipstick and dusted her cheeks with a pale red powder. She wasn't an expert on applying makeup; she had no friends to teach her and she didn't feel like suffering humiliation by asking one of the Yellowjackets. Her bouncy curls were tied back into a low bun with frizzy strands framing her face.

Her palms smooth over the lavender sweater she's wearing before coming to rest over her washed-out jeans. Her heart beats rapidly in her chest, and she awaits your opinion while chewing on the inside of her cheek. 

You finally turn toward her and smile sweetly, her nerves easing away at the mere sight of it. "I like it." You shrug and walk closer to the bed. "It's... homey." 

Misty nearly puffs out her chest in pride but instead, she bashfully tucks away a strand behind her ear and gives a shy smile. "I'm glad you like it."

"What'd you want to talk about?" You ask and settle down on the edge of her bed, the mattress sinking slightly beneath your weight and the bedframe creaking softly. 

"Oh, just.." Misty trails off, the words she'd carefully chosen for this very moment refusing to leave her tongue. She fiddles with her fingers. "Uhm, I was just.. uhm.. I was wondering if maybe you- you'd like to go, I don't know, out with me... somewhere... like the- the diner." 

You blink at her. "We go to the diner all the time." 

"Yeah, but- but.. I mean, like, as a- a date." 

"Oh." You purse your lips a little, as if the idea of going on a date with her hadn't even occurred to you. She immediately wants to sink into the mattress. She can feel a desperate ramble coming on. "Okay." 

"Okay?" It comes out breathless. 

You shrug, looking a little amused. "Okay."

Misty is positively thrilled that you agreed to go out with her! She blabbers about having a date with anyone who engages with her (mostly teachers) and is practically on cloud nine leading up to the big day. She frets over her outfit a bit, messes with her hair until it's in a style she likes, and even manages to gather up the will to call Jackie for makeup advice. Jackie entertains her for the most part but Misty has a feeling Jackie doesn't fully believe she's got a date. 

She gets real nervous about the date. She doesn't want to ruin it but she whispers some affirmations to herself beforehand to keep her mind straight. She tries not to be too overly Misty but she can't help it when you make her so comfortable. She appreciates that she doesn't have to hide her quirks or tone herself down. 

Being in a relationship with Misty is... a whole different ballpark. She's clingy, clingier than before. Personal space? Never heard of her. PDA? Love it. She constantly wants to hold hands or lean against you or give you tight hugs. 

Mari flips a lid when she first hears about it. She freaks. She doesn't want Misty fucking Quigley in her house! She doesn't want to be anywhere near her! She rationalizes that it's a pity relationship, something you're doing out of the kindness of your heart. It's what she tells anyone who asks, too. 

Misty doesn't care what Mari thinks. She doesn't care about what anyone thinks. She's overjoyed that A) you are dating her and B) she finally gets to experience what she constantly hears about from other people. She's already planned how the wedding's going to go, fyi. She'll tolerate her future sister-in-law just for you.

Maybe a little surprisingly, Misty's almost the perfect girlfriend. Her obsession and desire to be wanted leave her trying and doing anything she thinks you'll like. Plus, she's made sure to know you like the back of her hand.

Every gift she gets you is something she knows you'll love, every time she goes out to eat with you she ensures the food is exactly how you like it, and every essay or homework paper is reviewed by her to make sure you get the best grade. She's practically every love language shoved into one. Just don't hurt her feelings too much. For your own sake.

Being intimate with Misty is... something. Once the idea of losing her virginity and being intimate with you gets put in her head, she's reading allll about it. Whether it's educational books and journals or straight-up dirty magazines, she's checking it out and keeping herself informed and prepared. When the time comes, she's likely the initiator and tries being subtle about it but it's not hard to pick up what she's putting down. 

Misty can go for whatever and whenever you want because she's nearly always ready. She definitely reads about things that would make middle-aged folks turn bright red and immediately wants to try them all out, though she'll understand if you're apprehensive (if not a bit pouty over it). She's naturally curious and being the way she is, she wants to experience as much as possible to level the playing field with her and the other people at school. She wants to be able to say she's done things after spending half her life being the late bloomer.

Of course, she's overjoyed to hear your parents are forcing you to accompany Mari to Nationals. She'd been fretting about having to be away from you for so long (a week) and had already decided on ringing up your landline every time she could to check on you. But now, with you tagging along, all her worries washed away. Until the plane crashes in the wilderness and she's worried for a little while... until she realizes how much everyone is starting to appreciate her and her medical knowledge. Things are better now, aren't they? Surely, you wouldn't mind if she destroyed the flight recorder, right?

[creampie-capital]

║ᴋᴇɪ ᴛꜱᴜᴋɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ║

↳「ʙᴀʙʏ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ」║ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴀʙʏᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛ ➠ 18+ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ɴᴀᴍᴇ║Kei Tsukishima

ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ/ᴍᴀɴɢᴀ║Haikyuu

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ║11,893 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴜᴛ."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

What kind of man would steal your heart?

Would he be a charmer? A man who knew just what to say? A flatterer that would make sure you felt like the most gorgeous person in the world?

Or maybe he'd be a little shy, a sweet man who'd blush at accidentally holding hands. Would he get flustered when you stared at him a little too long? Perhaps he'd even feel like he were on cloud nine if you graced him with a kiss. 

He should be sweet and savory, a fine dining meal that you could just eat up.

It was fun to imagine and entertaining to dream of it. You couldn't help it that you were a hopeless romantic, in love with the idea of love, consumed by the thought of being with your other half. 

What would it feel like to find the one that makes the whole world revolve around them? You've thought about it many times, wouldn't it be wonderful? Wouldn't it be the most earth-shattering moment that made your entire world start to revolve around them?

How nice, how fun it was to think that. 

All of that imagining and fantasizing turned out to be a crude joke when you've come to the realization that the man who doesn't want you is, in fact, the one you can't let go. 

The man stuck in your thoughts, unable to just go away...is the same man who barely even holds a conversation with you when the sun is up. 

It feels sickening, nearly rancid on your tongue, like he's a dirty secret when he only comes over in the dark. Filthy, you feel filthy when you let go of all your dignity and give in to him without any hesitation. 

Letting go of your pride and disregarding your dignity, you take the scraps he gives you with love-struck appreciation. 

You take it so willingly, accepting the bare minimum because you're just so grateful for what little he throws your way. 

This isn't it; this isn't what you spent all that time envisioning what your dream man would be like. He'd love you! He'd sacrifice everything for you! He'd show you off because he's just so proud that you're his. 

Yet you're played with by falling in love with a man who is entirely opposite to what you've dreamed. 

And he just has to be the father of your baby. 

Unable to hold up your weight, you collapsed to your knees in the bathroom. It's so hot; you're sweating, and your skin is so sizzling, that you feel like tearing it off and emerging as just bones. 

Oh, god(s)! This is a cruel joke! This is some f*cking divine intervention for playing with fire. They just had to throw something at you as punishment for playing with a man who didn't want you. 

"(Y/n)! You've been in there since, like, forever!" Ceinwen, one of your roommates, bellows from outside as she pounds on the bathroom door. "The Delta sorority is having a party, and it's open to everyone on campus! I can't miss this!" 

Oh yeah, what simple things to be worried about. It would be nice to stress about what pink bra to wear and not how you're going to provide for a whole nother human being. 

"Give me..." You're struck with a wave of nausea, feeling your entire stomach stir and your esophagus tense. Hunching over the toilet, you audible breathe in and out as saliva pools in your mouth. "...Give me a second." 

Another bang that spurs your head to throb physically. "Eww! You better not be sick! That's so gross." Meara, another roommate, bellows, and you can practically see her scrunched face in disgust. 

Ugh, they can be so irritating sometimes! Somehow, you were able to force yourself to your feet and yank the door open. The woman dressed as how happy little sl*t's should be during their college days, stares back at you curiously. "Unless you two get pregnant, you can't get this sickness!" 

They gasp audibly, their entire bodies leaning back from the shock as they stare wide-eyed. "Oh, my god." Ceinwen, the short brunette, muttered under her breath. "That's a real bummer, but we need the bathroom." 

You almost laugh, almost, yet the situation is already starting to weigh heavy on you. "Knock yourselves out." Replying, you step back to grab your phone and the pregnancy tests before brushing past them to the stairs. 

The two girls' bedrooms were on the second floor, and yours was on the third. You had that all to yourself, which was nice, but now you don't know if you'll be able to stay here much longer.

You just can't. This place isn't somewhere to raise a kid; parties are just downstairs every other day. You have roommates who bring home strangers nearly every night. 

Filling your mouth with air and blowing it out with a sigh, you try to collect your thoughts. Oh god(s), this is really happening. You took several tests from different brands, and all stare you right back in the face with a bright 'positive!'. 

But why do you have to suffer!? Why is it your fault that you have horrible reactions to birth control and have to stay reliant either on condoms or Plan B!? 

Another sigh. 

You thought you were so careful. Weren't you so adamant about him wrapping it up?

When was it?

Why are you even trying to figure it out? What's done is done; your body is no longer just yours anymore; you house a growing fetus. 

And it's his baby of all people, Kei Tsukishima's. 

Falling back on your bed, you hold closed fist against your eyes as you feel them swell with tears. You hate yourself for being scared to tell him if that means he's going to disappear from your life. That shouldn't be your fear; you have to care for his baby, and you have to put them above a man. 

But you cannot help but mourn the delusions of finding the love of your life. The responsibility of caring for another will be the dominant obligation. Your own dreams and goals will have to be put on the back burner just so you can care and provide a healthy childhood for your child. 

Pregnancy is such a tremendous responsibility, a burden even. And although you've taken the possibility of pregnancy seriously, you've still skirted on that fine line. You f*cked around and are now finding out.

With another sigh and a sniffle, you manage to sit up again and grab your phone to see your notifications. A few emails from your classes, some IG messages from your friends, and a single text from the man himself. 

◤ Bane of My Existence I'm gonna come over after drinks with the team. ◢

"Oh, yeah?" You whisper to yourself with a sneer. Every time he comes over after drinking with the team, he's not pissed drunk, but he is tipsy, which meant he was more adamant about sleeping together. 

Why was it that whenever he came to you inebriated by alcohol, did you see the glimmer of he could be? It's like his defensive walls were down, and he allowed himself to be slightly vulnerable.

You hated it just as much as you loved it. 

For that night, you could experience what it would feel like to be something other than a warm body. His touches were tender, his kisses so intimate. He said that made your face burn and made you feel like the only woman in the world. 

And then, after everything was said and done, he'd clean you all up and lay right back by your side. Sometimes, he was silent, just listening to you. Others, he would talk to you about literally anything.

Maybe he'd talk about his day, ranting about his courses or the astronomical amount of assignments he had. He might speak about his team or volleyball, recanting his days when he brought his high school team to nationals. 

Sometimes, he'd play a song and ask your opinion on it. Those were the moments where you made notes, sneaking reminders to check up on that artist just to have something to talk about with him. 

When he had his way with you, it's like the two of you were more than...whatever the two of you were. I mean, it had to mean more when he'd lay there, a hand on your hip as he held your gaze until you fell asleep.

You loved it, you loved feeling...loved. But that's why you hated it just as much: because the man he is during the night is not the same as the man you meet when the sun is up. 

That man is callous, snarky, even dry in his responses. He finds no importance in talking to you; he replies barely, probably just enough to keep you on the line. Communicating with that man feels as if you're grasping at strings, attempting everything and anything just to get him to look your way. 

Yet your relationship with each other is weird because not every time he comes over at night does he want to have s*x. Sometimes, he just sits at your desk and works on his classwork. He doesn't even talk to you, keeping his SOMY headphones on as he focuses on his laptop. 

He could do that anywhere, yet he invades your space while not even paying attention to you. And every time he does that, you just let him be and refrain from bothering him because you don't want him to feel disturbed. 

It's pathetic and embarrassing, and you know it, yet you still can't let him go. You're putting in all the work, taking the time to learn about his interests, and trying to make some form of relationship happen. 

And that gets tiring...and that gets draining...yet you can't let this man go. How can you love him so much? How can you put up with all this stress when the easiest solution would be to move on? How are you tolerating this fwb relationship when you want a boyfriend, a lover, something serious... official.

Guess your title has changed from 'the person I occasionally sleep with' now to just 'baby Mama.' It feels...derogatory. You mean more than that; you're worth more than that. Being pregnant wasn't something you planned at all until the future when you'd already be married to the love of your life. 

You'd already be living with the man you'd spend the rest of your life with when you've attained your degrees and have a steady career. Everything's a f*cking mess, and nothing is like you've dreamed of. 

Nothing you can do will change the fact you're pregnant, and the father isn't even someone that you think you can depend on. Well...maybe you're thinking too low of him. After everything he's done to you, the way he's treated you, the way he never wanted to go past the sleeping together, it was evident that you just weren't the one. 

Yet he feels just right to you.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

You spent the next few hours cleaning before showering and changing into a fresh set of loungewear. Because you were still nauseous and felt sickly, a trash bin was kept by your bed, just in case. 

During the rest of your free time, you tried to edit your schedule and figure out everything you would have to do to care for this child. You'd need to work more and save up for the money pit children tend to be. Emailing the museum where you worked, you explained the situation and how you needed more hours. 

There might not be much that they could do, so you'll probably have to get a second job, too. The courses you took in person will have to change to online, making the whole point of physically attending college useless. 

It could either be a fricken nightmare or tolerable considering it was your last year before graduating, and that all just depends on if you can handle...everything that's changing. 

Your phone lit up, the screen presenting your notification and Tsukishima's message. 

◤ Bane of My Existence Are ur roommates here? ◢

Is being seen with you really that bad?

◤ 75 XXX XXXX No, they went out to party. Bane of My Existence K I'm outside the building. I'll just walk in when I get up. ◢

What would it feel like to proudly welcome home your partner? Would it be comforting? Gratifying? Soothing? You wonder what it would feel like not to be just some dirty little secret. 

You can hear the front door squeak open before it's slammed shut. Your heart skips a beat, your fingers twitch, and you find it difficult to sit comfortably in your own bed. 

His steps approach up the stairs, slow and languid, with no urgency at all. He has no idea about the bomb that's about to be dropped on him. 

The handle jiggles to your bedroom door as it's opened, and the man himself steps through. His golden brown eyes find yours almost immediately, and the amount of dread that fills your stomach is enough to drown you right there. 

"It's hot in here." He murmurs in an almost monotonous tone as he pulls the black sweater off his torso to leave him in a large white shirt and thrust it on your desk chair. 

"It's actually rather cold." You mumble, leaning back against your headrest while crossing your arms underneath your chest. 

Tsukishima blows air out of his nose like some condescending laugh as if he thought a joke to himself that he didn't want to share. "I can already sense your attitude." His words have a slight mocking tone as he tilts his head away.

Oh, he has no idea what's coming his way. 

Emptying his things on your desk, he unbuckled his belt to step out of his pants and thrust it haphazardly on your chair. "What a long f*cking day." He groans as he strides closer to collapse on your bed. 

With his abnormally long limbs, he looks almost comically on your bed. His head is by your hip, his arms splayed out, and his legs hanging loosely off the ends. Now, with him being much closer, you can smell the bitter alcohol wafting off his breath and cigarette smoke, too.

"How much did you drink?" You question while fiddling with your fingers in your lap atop the comforter. 

"Enough." He mutters and holds down a burp as he reaches up to remove his glasses and rub at his eyes. "It's too bright in here."  

It seems that tonight, he had drank just a little more than usual. What a coincidence. Leaning over, you shut off the lamp on the nightstand, which yielded a light sigh from the blond. For a moment, you think to yourself that maybe right now isn't the best time. 

But you know he needs to know because tonight, a decision must be made about what the two of you will do. 

Tsukishima rolls over onto his stomach as he rests one arm on your lap, his head facing away from you. "Dumb*ss can't even hit the ball." His utterance is slightly mumbled, and you know he was complaining about someone from his volleyball team.  

You're trying to work up the nerve with your throat dry and tight. The words are right there on your tongue, yet you feel as if they're stuck to your teeth with glue. 

The news you need to tell him will change everything. 

"You're quiet," Tsukishima mumbled as the hand on your lap moved to poke at your hip. "What I do now?" 

That almost brings out a laugh as you raise your knees to your chest and rub a hand over your temples. Now that you are aware of your pregnancy, your belly is a little bigger and plumper, which takes up more space. 

It really isn't something that you can just forget for a little bit and worry about later. 

"I...I need to talk to you about something." You don't even know how you managed to get the words out, but there really is no turning back. 

The blond sighs with an aggravated respire of breath. "Is it serious?" He grumbled, and you can see the vexation lacing his tone. He probably thinks you're going to ask that silly question of 'What are we?' or 'Can we be official.' 

He always avoids it, skirting around the topic or finding some way to distract you. 

"Yes." 

He shifts his head to face your direction and sighs once again. "What is it now?" His angled eyes gleam from his lens, and his sweet lips are pursed together.

"I'm-" You feel nauseous, nearly about the retch, though you manage to swallow it down with a shaky breath. "Oh f*ck. I'm pregnant...I'm pregnant, Kei." 

His expression remains impassive, not a note or tick or any micro-expressions. However, you feel that he has stopped breathing from how the bed is no longer heaving with his breaths. Blood is rushing in your ears from how quiet your bedroom has become. 

The abrupt movement of him sitting up had you jump in your spot and squeeze your hands on your biceps. 

"Are you f*cking with me? This isn't some joke-"

You interject his words by kicking your feet under your blanket. "You think I would joke about this!? This is gonna change my life forever!" It wasn't your intention to yell; you're just so overwhelmed by this whole ordeal. 

Reaching over to your nightstand, you remove the multiple pregnancy tests and thrust them on your bed. His eyes are staring at them as if dazed, with his pupils dilating. 

Suddenly, Tsukishima twists his body so he holds up his weight with his elbows on his knees and stares at the ground. One of his hands obscures his mouth, and no sound comes from him. 

Is your heart even beating? You're scared, you're terrified, you're dreading what he's going to do. And what does it say about you when there is a small part of you hoping that he wants to try and be something more? 

You'll be connected to each other forever in a way that you can't just leave. 

"Is it mine?" He finally speaks after what felt like hours of silence. 

What a dumb question; you have to scoff audibly at it. "Of course. You're the only man." Your head turned with your lips puckering. "You won't be with me, but you throw a whole fit if another man shows me interest." Now wasn't the time to be bitter or petty, yet you couldn't help but mumble those words.

His response isn't immediate; he is just sitting there, solid like a statue. What is he thinking? What's going on in his mind?

You would give anything to know.

"Please talk to me. I can't figure you out." Your voice fails you; it's jittery and slightly squeaky at the end, and you feel a sob rising in your throat. 

Tsukishima swears under his breath before standing up and stalking towards your chair. His hands are shaky but swift as he grabs his pants and rushes to put them back on. 

It felt like your world had come crashing down. All the hope you had, the possibility that it might go the other way, was quite literally hitting you like a ton of bricks. 

"W-wait, where are you going!?" Your own voice sounds like a shrill cry in your head. 

He's shoving his wallet and keys back in his pockets as he responds. "I need, f*ck. I need time to think." 

"You can't-" All air is robbed from your lungs. "It's not fair that you can just leave! What about me!? My entire life is going to change, and I can't just walk away from this-" 

"What do you want from me, then?" His shouting voice shocked both of you, and your bodies recoiled backward. His golden brown eyes widened. The man's head dipped down, and he chewed on his bottom lip, his right hand still shaking by his side. 

"Just..." You slowly get up from your sitting position and make your way over wearily. "Just talk to me. Just tell me how you're feeling. Is there anything? Are you scared? Are you worried? Do you hate me? I need to know."

Shaking his head, he turns away from you to grab his sweater and throw it over his shirt. "It doesn't matter. What's done is done already." Those words were just enough to crack open your heart. 

It feels torn, and you feel dejected. "Why am I not worth enough for you to just talk to me?" Your vision wavers, and tears well up in your eyes, muting your sight.

His head whips your way with his lips parted. Whatever it is he wanted to say is silence as he meets your gaze. Can't he see how much he affects you? Can't he see how important he is to you? Don't you make it obvious? Don't you tell him enough? 

"...That's not what you should be worried about right now." 

So that's it.  

Your wishful thinking made you look like a complete fool. What did you expect from a man who couldn't say what he wanted clearly? 

This must be what it means to be in despair. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"(L/n)-san?" 

You jump in your seat, startled by her voice when you are lost in your thoughts. A short-haired blonde woman steps in, grinning softly. "My name is Dr. Shiori, and I'll be the OB-GYN doctor who will attend to you."

"Yes, thank you." You're being nice, but you're unsure of what to say when you are so uncomfortable. 

Shiori sits down in her chair and boots up her computer. Her room is cutely decorated with stickers and posters on the walls. It's also bright, with light streaming in through the blinds and a blaring one atop the ceiling. 

"The nurse already took your vitals, including height and weight, so now we can check in on the fetus." The woman stands up to wash her hands before drying them and putting on gloves. "It's customary that on the first check-up, we inspect the position and heartbeat. Are you ready?" 

No, no, you're not. "Of course." 

The doctor turns on the ultrasound machine on a trolley by the examination table and informs you that she's going to lift your shirt. Your belly is displayed out, slightly rounded, and pooching differently than it did when you weren't pregnant. 

"This is going to be a little cold." She squirts coupling gel on your tummy and swirls it around the skin with the transducer. 

Vibrations rattle from the machine on your left, and the soundwaves of your internal organs are picked up. The screen is just a mesh of black-and-white lines as she rolls the wand over your stomach. 

You have to turn your head away and manually control your breathing as you find yourself suddenly struck with nerves. Your skin is prickly hot, and a tightness returns to your throat. 

Maybe it's all a joke?

Maybe you got it wrong? 

Maybe you hear a heartbeat, a soft, rhythmic heartbeat, bellowing from the machine. Thump, thump, thump—it's a little fast but consistent and doesn't stop. 

You can't help but turn your head to look. And there they are on screen. So small, curled with a round little belly and tiny hands. 

"You should be around fifteen weeks. They're about the size of a plum or apple." Shiori informs as she watches the screen alongside you. "Aren't they amazing?" 

"Yeah." It's breathed out while a sob holds strong in your throat. This is real; it's so real that nothing can even deny it anymore. That's your baby right there; that's your child breathing, sleeping, and relying on you to take care of them. 

You've put your heart first, your feelings and love for Kei before your own pride. And now, this little thing comes before the love you hold for that man. If he doesn't want to be here for them, then it's his loss. 

"Heartbeat is steady. The position looks acceptable. Everything is all good. Would you like a printed image of the fetus?" You nod quickly while wiping your eyes to free them of tears. 

With that check-up completed, she cleaned you up, and the two of you sat at her desk to review prenatal educational materials and remedies for any unpleasant pregnancy symptoms. Your doctor is thorough and brings up topics that you hadn't even thought about to ask her. 

But then she asks one question that squeezes your heart. "How are you with support? Is your family there for you or the baby's father?"  

It feels embarrassing to have to say no; you have nobody. Several weeks have passed since you told Kei about your pregnancy, and he's gone radio silent. No text, not a single phone call; you don't even catch a glimpse of him on campus. 

He said he needed time to think, and enough time had passed to come to terms with it. You're under the assumption that he wants nothing to do with you anymore. 

"No." You try to smile up at her, but it feels strained. "It's just me." 

Shiori's bottom lip quivers before she breathes out audibly and rummages through her desk to grab something. "Well, everyone has their circumstances." She places down a few cards and pamphlets. "These are some resources you can use. This is a group for expectant mothers to gather and support each other. And these are government websites that you can visit to apply for aid." 

It's nice to have something that can help ease the financial and emotional burden of doing this alone. 

"I suggest you also check this website out as well to schedule childbirth classes. They can be more educational than you might think, and there are knowledgeable women who can answer any questions you have and reassure you about any fears."

You stare at the aids and think to yourself, 'Maybe I can do this without anyone else.'

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

When you arrive back at your dorm after your appointment, it came as a surprise to see the bane of your existence leaning against the wall at your front door. With his headphones on, his attention focuses on his phone so leisurely it almost pisses you off. 

You don't say anything as you approach and don't even look his way as you search through your purse for your keys. "Who are you here to see?" It's petty, and you know it, yet you can't help wanting to release some of your bitterness at him. 

"Ceinwen." 

Your fingers halt any movement as your head whips up at him, only to see his usual condescending smirk on his lips. The red hot coil in your stomach eases as you realize her weren't serious. You're still not...you still haven't worked through your own feelings. 

Still, your heart yearns for him, and your chest aches at the idea of him being with someone else. "Real funny joke. I almost laughed." 

"Then don't ask stupid questions," he responds as you unlock the door and step in. He follows right behind, shutting and locking the door while removing his shoes. 

You're already making your way to the kitchen before placing down your prescriptions and groceries on the counter. The other girls are out of their classes, so you don't have to deal with their curiosity. 

"Where did you go?" Tsukishima questioned as he approached the island and took a seat at the counter. 

Oh yeah, he's just so comfortable acting like he hadn't been a ghost this entire time. "What have you been doing this whole time?" You retort while beginning to put away your things. 

The blond groaned and leaned his arms on the island. "Can you not do this right now?" 

Your eyes flicker to his face, seeing your reflection in his glasses before turning back towards the fridge. "Can you not waste my time right now?" 

"(Y/n), can you be mature for just five minutes?" 

Milk almost falls from your hands as the anger builds up in your body. "It's not fun, is it? Trying to get a response and get only questions back. Get's on your nerves, doesn't it?" 

He doesn't reply, and you don't push for more as you finish putting everything away. It was not until you had to turn around to open your prescriptions that you got a look at his face. 

His head is down, his vision on his hands as he breathes deeply. You'd like to think he was feeling remorseful, but that might just be wishful thinking. You never really know what's on his mind; you can't figure him out. 

"You know..." The words are slightly strained as they leave your mouth. "I really don't have time to deal with you right now. I have to begin packing." 

Immediately, his head whipped up, and his arms raised to place clasped hands against his lips. "Where are you going?" He asked softly. 

"Nowhere right now." You inform while undoing a bottle of prenatal medicine. "I'm still looking for an apartment on the market. Can't raise a baby in a frat house." It really sucks, though, considering boarding was already paid for by tuition, and you had decent roommates. 

Tsukishima held your gaze for a moment before bringing out his phone and scrolling on it. "I'll send my teammate's brother's number. He owns a couple of properties, and I know he'd be willing to help you out. They owe me favors after all." 

How much work did you have to do to accept that you were going to do this all on your own? And after all that time staying silent, now he wants to help somewhat? 

"Why are you doing this?" He peers up at you through his glasses. "Why try to help after like seven weeks of silence? I don't want anything from you if you're just going to be half in. Either you take full responsibility as this baby's father or take none at all. You're the only one that gets to walk away."

The blond slinked back in his seat as he crossed his arm over his broad chest. "What is with you and labels? I'm trying to help, and you're trying to start sh*t right now." 

Blame it on the hormones, but your anger was simply unmanageable. It spurs tears to well up and cascade down your face in thick streams. His lips pursed tightly, and his entire spine had straightened up entirely at your visceral reaction. 

"Don't you get it?! I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you so far long, even though you've treated me like sh*t and just some b*tch that you f*ck; I've been putting in all this effort for you to see that I am worth more than that."

You can't hold it down anymore; you can't act like you can just get over it. "I'm the one that knows what classes you have, when, and even what your grades are. I know what profession you want to go into. I know all about your volleyball history and how you got that scar in high school. I even go to every single one of your games, yet I bet you don't know that I'm even there." 

It's like a damn was burst open, its walls destroyed as you cannot stop the torrent of water escaping through. "I know every song in your stupid f*cking playlist. I cancel any plans just in case you text and want to come over. I put in all this effort; I put you above everything else. I barely even asked for anything from you, and you barely even gave me the bare minimum." 

With hands scrunched into fists, you step toward the island, your face just a few inches from each other. "...I didn't even ask you to take responsibility for this baby. All I wanted was for you just to tell me what you were feeling, what you were thinking." 

How cathartic it feels to get that weight off your shoulders. You held that in, held everything in, because you needed to be careful with your wording. Now, it feels like you can breathe just a little easier. 

Tsukishima swallowed strenuously as his head turned away, his gaze lingering on anything but you. "If I treat you so horribly, then why don't you just tell me off? Why do you keep torturing yourself?" 

"Come on!" You grab the sides of his hair and force him to look at you. He doesn't even fight you while he frowns thickly. "I said it already. I'm in love with you. All I wanted was just to be yours officially." 

Slowly, his hands reach up to grab your wrist and pull them away from his face. His skin is hot, his palms are clammy, and he's looking at you in a way that he never has before. 

However, it seems that you got your hopes up as he stands back to his feet and turns away without another word. All you can do is watch him leave, hearing him unlock the front door and shut it behind him.

You thought that you were getting somewhere; you thought that, finally, you made it through the thick walls he'd put up. But once again, you're made to look like the fool. 

Ring!  

Your skeleton nearly jumped through your skin at the jolting call of your phone. Snatching it, you answer it without even looking at the screen as your hands aggressively wipe the tears off your face. "Hello?" 

"I can't do it." Tsukishima's voice reverberates in your head. 

"W-what...?" 

He takes a deep breath on the other line. "I can't look you in the face and tell you that I'm in love with you too when I'm scared that doing so would make it real." Another breath, one shaky and uneven. "It being real means that it can all go to sh*t and destroy me. Not having you would destroy me, (Y/n)." 

You're not even breathing, standing there staring at nothing with bated breath. 

"Just...Just give me some time. I want to try for you but I'm not good at this. Every time I look you in the eyes, I can't get a single word out. You're too good for me, and I'm scared for when you realize that, too." 

All the strength in your knees has dispersed as you slowly keel over, on your hands and knees, with your forehead pressing on the lacquered wooden floor. 

Such simple words, a few sentences, yet it's all you've ever wanted to hear. You would have understood him if you knew how he felt. 

"...Can you wait for me...?" 

You shouldn't even entertain him. You shouldn't even give him any leeway to think that he can f*ck with your emotions anymore. Why are you the one that has to wait for him? He's already had three years to be able to get the words out.

But you're weak, in love, and pregnant. You just want him by your side for a bit of support. You want to believe that if you did, you're finally going to get the man you've always wanted. 

"How long?" It feels like a gush of air from your lungs. 

"I don't know." He answers after a moment of silence. "I know I have no right to ask anything else from you, but I want to be there for...for you and this baby. It took two to make that child, and I want to do my part."

You shouldn't say yes. You can do it on your own. You can do it by yourself. 

But he has your heart in the palm of his hands. 

"Okay." 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Only briefly did you communicate with him the following four weeks. Just a few times, he texted to check in and make sure you were doing okay. He seemed busy, his responses short, but you already decided he had another chance. 

But soon, you're going to confront him; how much longer are you supposed to wait?

Other than that, you've been doing everything you could to prepare for this baby. You're working more, saving up for future expenses. Right now, all your grades are passing, better than before, as you've dedicated yourself to fully graduating with excellent remarks. 

You were going to need all the credibility you could gather when people would judge you right off the bat for having a baby so young. The childbirth classes you were taking were going well, and the support group of other expecting mothers helped you make good friends with other people who could actually relate to your situation. 

It did feel like you were alone in this pregnancy when you were the only one experiencing the joys of expecting. There was your baby's first kick, the first movement when recognizing your voice; it was a shame your baby's father wasn't there to experience it. 

However, he did something most shocking, which was the turning point in your relationship. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

It's early morning; fog is still rolled out across the city, and dew drops still water the grass. The sun is so far off in the distance that its warmth doesn't reach you, leading to a scarf wrapped tightly around your neck and lower face. 

You are dressed in a thick coat and several undertops, with your belly just growing big enough to press against the structure of your jacket. It's not huge yet, but by now, your baby should already be the size of a mango in your womb. 

Quietly, you walked down the street from the bus stop until you arrived at a residential section with the address on your phone. The building was at least three stories, but it looked new and modern, with strong gates around the perimeter and a gate call box. 

You pressed the button and informed the property owner at his office that you were here for your walk-in. The gate had opened, and he called to let you know to meet him downstairs at the specific number. 

When you knocked and were let in, you most definitely did not expect the blond man himself to be sitting down on a sofa chair. He raised his head and met your gaze, a sly grin on his lips as he leaned his head against his fist. "Nice of you to join us." He muses at your flabbergasted expression. 

Noriaki, the property owner, had only grinned with a closed-eyed smile. "Well, now that everyone is here, let's go look at the available room."

You couldn't say anymore, quite literally dumbfounded at that moment. Silently, you followed behind and entered one of the three apartments on the second floor. Immediately, you smell the scent of lime and are engulfed in light from the glass sliding door in the living room by the balcony. 

"I had different counters put in and a new oven. The fridge isn't the latest model, but it's the most reliable one from the company." The brunet speaks as he leads you two around.

Tsukishima is silent, simply observing everything and checking the small details of certain appliances. The place was exquisite, with two rooms and a surprisingly large bathroom. Even the water pressure was intense and gushed forcefully from the showerhead.

It had everything you wanted, including a storage room just down the hall at the end that could be converted into a small room if needed. 

You wanted this place badly, and even with the deal Noriaki made just for you, the final price still exceeded the budget you could afford to pay alone.  

"So what do you think?" The owner asked once everything was explored and looked about. 

"It's gorgeous." You state while a hand moves to press against the small of your back. "It's still just too much for me to pay by myself." 

"Who said you're paying by yourself?" Tsukishima asked while flicking your forehead. "Why else do you think I'm here?" 

Your head twists to the side with a brow raised almost dramatically. "I-you-" He pinches your cheek but grins a guileless smile that doesn't feel so mean. 

"You're not the only one who was preparing. After all, we have a baby to take care of together." His words came out so smoothly that you struggled to comprehend them. 

You're the one standing there gaping at him dumbfoundedly. You knew he needed time, but you hadn't expected to be ready for...well, this. 

"Shall we go and sign the lease?" Noriaki asked lightly, hands clasped behind his back. 

The blond was the one who answered you. "Yeah, let's go." And he was even the one to grab your hand and drag you to the elevator when you stood nearly shortcircuiting. 

It feels surreal to get this from him when you have tried so hard before. Are things really changing for the better?

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

You had thought things were changing, yet when you asked him to go with you two for your twenty-week check-up, he said that he was busy. It was a little bit of wishful thinking to believe that he'd be there for everything. 

Tsukishima was still the same person he was before, but only now has he stepped up to take care of his responsibility. 

Really, you should have lowered your expectations to minimize your disappointment. But you put that aside for now as you arrive for your appointment. You were there for a check-up and to finally find out the gender of your little fetus. 

"We're going to try something different," Dr. Shiroi communicated as she rolled into a different machine. It looked like a larger ultrasound machine with a bigger body and a more extended trolley. "This is a GE Voluson Ultrasound Machine. It's used to see a 3D/4D real-time visualization of your baby." 

You've heard about this being used to render a physical mold of a blind woman's baby's face so she could feel what they looked like.

You cried when you saw your first ultrasound; you think you might bawl if you were to see something so visually accurate before birth.  

The OB-GYN did the same thing she did last time, raising your shirt to smear the cool coupling jelly on your bare skin. As the transducer is being rolled around on your belly, you hear the sound waves of your body's natural functions while you lay eager to see the 4D rendering. 

An abrupt knock echoes from your door as a nurse peeks in to look your way. "Sorry to interrupt, but there is a man here who goes by Tsukishima Kei. He says that he is here to see the mother of his child," she says quietly. 

You're so startled by her words that you don't realize you were just lying there silently until Shiori spoke. "Well, should we let him in?"

Already on the verge of crying from your hormones, you could not trust your voice, so you nodded. The door shut slightly before it was opened again, and Tsukishima walked in while twisting his head away from the bright light in the room. 

"Work was being a b*tch, and I couldn't get off-" His words come to a complete halt as a heartbeat fills the room—thump, thump, thump, a little slower, still as rhythmic and soothing as before. 

He whipped his head your way, his golden brown eyes consumed by the sight on the screen. His shoulders had slumped, the straps of his bag falling as it hit the ground with a loud thud. You could hear him suck in a gasp with his mouth remaining agape. 

"That's..." He didn't need to finish his sentence as you nodded and turned to look at it, too. 

The screen has a black background, with the colored model of your fetus a medallion yellow hue. You can see the shape of their face, the roundness in their cheeks, and the imprint of their lips. They have all five fingers, with their right hand pressed against their face and the left circled against their chest. The little legs of the fetus are curled up to their chest, a secure position as they sleep so blissfully unaware of the world outside your belly.

"It's our baby, Kei."

He broke down. You can hear his body collapse in a waiting chair against the wall as he chokes on his breath. "My god."

Shiori hums as she moves the transducer slightly. "It looks like...a healthy baby girl. Congratulations." 

You're doing it again; the tears are falling without an order. "Oh, a daughter." You croak with a hand reaching up to touch the screen. "We're having a daughter, Kei." 

Gradually, your head turns back to face the blond, yet you couldn't imagine you'd ever see this sight. With his face hidden in the palms of his hand, you can see the slight droplets of tears peaking through between his fingers. His sagging shoulders are jittering while he clenched his jaw, holding in a sob. 

You have become aware of many things during this pregnancy. You know you have faults, you know you're not perfect, and you know you've been thinking of Kei as cruel. There were many things you just assumed and took the initiative of believing and granted; it was because he never talked to you about what he truly felt, but still. There is still so much to learn about him. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

The ride home in Tsukishima's car was silent; there was no talking, and not even the radio was playing. It was hard to have anything to say after such a touching familial moment at the doctors. 

You wonder how he feels right now. Did it become so surreal when he finally heard his daughter's heartbeat, when he finally saw her little face staring right back at him? It was a distinct moment to which very few things could compare. 

He pulled into the underground parking spot and turned the car on to park. Although it was shut off, the blond didn't move as he stared ahead through the glass. His hands are frozen on his lap while his expression remains impassive, unreadable. 

"What's wrong?" It was a simple question, yet one he seemed to avoid as he usually kept his feelings all bottled up. 

Yet you were pleasantly surprised when the young man had blown air out of his mouth and turned to face you. "This is real?" He asked softly. 

"Yeah." You reply with a light chuckle. "It's all real, Kei. We're having a little girl, and she'll be here soon." 

Tsukishima leaned back in his seat as his adam bobbed from a strenuous swallow. "Hate how thankful I am that you didn't move on from me." 

You almost make fun of him, nearly; it was so hard to bite those words down. But you manage only to nod your head and place a hand on his. "Come on, let's go upstairs." 

He didn't need to be told twice as he heaved his body out and wrapped his arms around the other side of the car to open the passenger side. "What a gentleman! " you jeered, yet he said nothing slyly back. 

When you both had ridden the elevator to your floor and entered your apartment, the sun was just about setting. Its warm rays stream in through the glass sliding door, and you take a moment just to stand there and bask in it. 

"Kei?" 

He hums as you hear him kick over a box that still needs to be unpacked. 

Turning to face him, he stares at you curiously. "We need to have better communication." He rolls his eyes dramatically, but you only laugh. "I'm serious. You don't even know how upset I was when I thought you didn't want to come to my appointment. If you had just told me that you were working and might not be able to get off, I would have been fine with that. You know what I would have told you?" 

"Hmm?" He hums while shifting his gaze away and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks. 

"That it was okay, that I understood. If you had just told me that you wanted to be there, but something important like work was not letting you off, the heartache I felt, and the questioning of if you really cared about me would have never happened. It would have been that easy." 

"I know that-" 

You interject his words with a shake of your head as you step towards him. "Don't lie to me. What are you so scared of that makes it hard to communicate with me or just to tell me about your feelings?" 

He sighs exasperatedly while cocking his head in a different direction. "I don't know, (Y/n)." His answering would have enraged you if it were the you before your pregnancy. But you've been through so much, had many realizations and conclusions, and are more open with your thoughts. 

Lightly, you grab his hands and hold them firmly. His skin is warm, and his fingers and palms have rough callouses from his hard work playing volleyball. "Then we're just going to have to figure it together. Because there is no way you're getting rid of me. I love you, Kei. Where am I going to go when we're starting our future together right here?" 

He breathes deeply, chest expanding before you hear the exhale. His golden brown eyes behind his dark frames finally look down at you with the corner of his lip quirking upwards. "I don't remember you being so sappy. It's gross." 

"Ah!" You release his hands to poke him harshly at the waist. "Don't even lie. You know you like it. Someone at least has to be open with their feelings." 

Tsukishima clicked his tongue while swatting your hand away. His towering body turned at an angle to walk down the hallway, though he had halted at first before turning back to face you. "You get on my nerves sometimes." 

"Oh, I could say the same thing about you." You stress back to him playfully. "Now, instead of being a meaniehead, let's figure out what to do for dinner. I'm starving." 

The blonde laughed to himself as he began walking in the direction of the kitchen, but not before flicking your forehead lightly. "Fat a**." 

"And you like this fat a**. That's why I'm pregnant." You drawl while twirling a piece of your hair, and you get the exact response you wanted. He knocked over the napkin dispenser on the island counter from your remark and flung back to glare at you 'harshly.' 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

When a man finally steps up, you notice the effort he has put in that you should have deserved long ago. Finally, receiving the same amount you have put in feels rewarding in a way nothing else has. 

Although his change seems drastic, perhaps he had always been like that. His insecurities and fear kept him from being the man he could be. You notice it almost immediately; the small things he's been doing have been adding up. 

The foods you've been craving or briefly mentioned are in the cupboards the next day. You complained once that the towel you were using was becoming too small to wrap around yourself, and then suddenly, the next time you showered, two new towels were waiting for you on the counter. 

When you've struggled to get up late at night to wash yourself, he throws your things down by your side of the bed and dramatically sits next to you. His rough hands would then surprisingly clean it for you tenderly, softly, but then once he was done, he'd complain about needing to baby you. 

Yet even when he complains or mutters how annoying something is, he does it again and again. You've dreamed about who would be your one, and although he's a bit different than your imagination, he's exactly what you want. 

Even with his silly little quirks. 

"This is literally all common sense," Tsukishima complains while pointing down at your lesson binder. "What kind of dumb** doesn't know how to hold a baby." 

You can only roll your eyes at his usual complaints. "You whine every time, yet you still come." 

Tsukishima has been coming with you to your childbirth classes, to every single one, even though he complains every time. Nevertheless, each time you say you're going to go alone, he's prying you away from the bus stop and grabbing your hand to drag you to his car.

Maybe he should just say he wants to be around you instead of acting all snobby hehe. 

"Somebody has to make sure you're not doing something stupid." He muttered, leaning back in his seat while crossing his arms over his chest. 

Playfully gasping, you poke him at the waste. "Aw, you actually care about me?" The expression he had on his face when he whipped down to look at you was hilarious. It was as if he was saying, are you seriously serious right now? 

A lady from behind your table laughs to herself as her husband snickers softly. "It's nice to see your caring boyfriend here as usual." Sachiko jest while resting her hands on her pregnant belly. 

"He's not my boyfriend." Were your immediate words, you're just the mother of his child. 

"Princess." Tsukishima suddenly lamented in a whiney voice while he wrapped a long arm over your back to hug your shoulders. "I wish you would stop telling people that when you are upset with me." 

You nearly choke on your saliva as the others around you laugh lightly at the scene. "Young love." Someone sighs under their breath almost dreamily. 

Most of his jokes either go over your head, or you let it slide, but this one was sticking to you. Although things have been changing, most definitely for the better, the topic of your relationship with each other wasn't brought up. 

He's taking responsibility and fully investing in it, but you want him to be more. Maybe that was your issue: always wanting more. 

For the rest of the class, you were silent, listening to the lady up front but not joking around with the blond by your side. He noticed it, you could tell, but he refrained from bringing it up in front of the others. It wasn't until the two of you were in the car, driving back to your apartment, that he spoke. 

At thirty weeks pregnant, you really cannot help if your emotions control you so strongly.

"Alright, what's bothering you now?" He asked while leaning an elbow on his door side. 

"Nothing." Came your mumbled reply as you rested your head on the window, staring out at the darkness of the late night. 

Tsukishima sighed exhaustedly before flicking on his turn signal and shifting. "I'm only going to ask you what's wrong once. After that, you can act like a kicked puppy all you want." 

You sneered at him while turning your head in his direction. "You're just going to make fun of me." 

"Even if you are going to say something stupid, I'm still gonna answer." 

Your eyes stare at his side profile for a moment as you debate whether or not to tell. But you give him soon after as you couldn't go any longer feeling wretched. "I'm sad that we're not dating. I know that I'm the mother of your baby, but I also want to be your girlfriend, maybe wife one day." 

The car came to an abrupt halt that had you jerk in your seat. The blond turned to face you with his eyes squinted and lips stretched into a frown. "What the hell are you on about? Of course, we're together." He states as if it were so apparent. 

Now it was your turn to have a bewildered expression while you held your hands out, pointing at yourself. "Um, how am I supposed to know that? We never officially stated what we were, and you never asked me. What am I supposed to think?" 

"God, why are you like this?" He complains as he starts driving again. "I thought it was obvious. You're the mother to my child. We're living together. I took responsibility, and that means being there for not only the baby but you as well." 

You hated that he was right, somewhat. Slouching in your seat and pouting, you shifted your gaze back to the window. "I just wanted some clarification. Would have been nice if you asked me." Your mumbling words immediately result in a sigh from the man. 

He pulled into the underground parking lot and parked before turning to face you. "Will you be my girlfriend?" 

Slowly, you turned your head to meet his gaze. "No." 

"(Y/n)." He groaned while yanking his keys out of the ignition. "Stop playing around. I'm being serious." 

"So am I. Either put in the effort actually to ask me to be yours or don't ask me at all. I deserve to be treated just a little bit more importantly." 

He was silent the rest of the night, and you hadn't brought it up again. You were tired of the bare minimum, and even though he has been proving more and being there, you wanted him just to try a little bit harder. 

And it seemed that your words had gotten to him. The following day, you woke up to his side of the bed already done and remade. He probably had classes that early morning, so you weren't in a rush to get ready for your day. 

Lazying about for a little longer, you decided to get up after a while once your stomach cried for some food. Yet you quite nearly sh*t yourself at the sound of something moving in your kitchen. Peeking over as carefully as you could with a pregnant belly, you had not expected to see Tsukishima cooking in the kitchen. 

He wore your frilly pink apron over his work clothes as he made all your favorite things. You stepped closer, astonished and astounded by things you didn't expect, like the candies and cute little teddy bears on the counter. Or vases of your favorite flowers with cards leaned against them. 

Tsukishima heard the pitter-patter of your footsteps and spoke without turning around to face you. "I realized I've never given you flowers." 

You're nearly in tears from your hormones. "How did you know those were my favorite flowers?" You asked with a slight squeak to your voice. 

The blonde circled around to place another plate down in the middle of the items he bought. "I know a lot about you too, (Y/n). Now eat; I have to be back at work in an hour." 

Respring a heavy breath, you held back your tears and took a seat on the island. You couldn't wait to dig in, and dig in, did you? The man himself had stayed in the kitchen, washing the dishes before leaning against the counter and just watching you eat. 

By the time you were done, everything was eaten up, and you slouched in your seat, patting your bulging belly over your sleepwear. "That hit the spot." 

Tsukishima hummed while stepping forward to lean his elbows on the surface by your plate. "Now that you've eaten my food, you have no right to refuse me asking you to be my girlfriend." You peered at him with squinted eyes while attempting to hold down a smile. "So, will you finally be my girlfriend?" 

Yeah, that made you feel good. "I suppose." You sing it impishly." "Yes, I will be your girlfriend." 

"Good." After all that, he walked over to your side to kiss your temple before going to the front door to put on his coat and leave for work. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Throughout your pregnancy, Tsukishima has surprised you, and he continued to surprise you constantly. It feels like all that sadness and despair that happened before was decades ago. It feels so silly to think about the issues you had and how all of it could have been avoided if you both just communicated better. 

And although he still struggles with expressing himself clearly and not just holding a mask over his true feelings, he's putting in the effort that you've always wanted. 

However, he still continues to surprise you when one day, at thirty-six weeks pregnant, he tells you to get dressed because you are going to meet his family. 

You were in a daze while preparing to go, and on the long car ride there, you couldn't help but get more anxious. Meeting his family was such a huge step. It felt like it made your relationship even more real. He's not someone who would bring around just anyone, and yes, although you are pregnant with his baby, he didn't have to introduce you at all. 

When finally arrived at his home, you felt like you were going to throw up. You're breathing had increased in speed as you gasped for air. 

"(Y/n), breathe," Tsukishima murmured and grasped at your clenched hands. Your eyes fling his way only for him to have leaned forward and kissed your lips softly. Oh, how you melted in his embrace. "There is nothing to be nervous about. They love you already." 

You stared at him with your lips slightly agape. "You talk about me to them?" 

"Of course." He states while raising a hand to pinch your cheek lightly. "I've talked about you long before you were even pregnant." 

It was too much for your little 'ol heart; you couldn't stop the tears that prompted the blond to swipe them away quickly. "Stop crying. You're going to make it seem like I abuse you."

"Abuse me with love." You joke with a quivering voice. 

Kissing your lips once more, he pats your face dry while avoiding your gaze. "You can be so annoying sometimes." 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

The birth came unexpectantly, just cramps and leg pain that you thought was normal as you had them before when you brought your thirty weeks. 

Yet when a particular piercing cramp in your lower belly woke you from your slumber and a wetness spread between your thighs, you knew what was happening. 

You awoke your partner with a startled cry and told him what had happened. He was up to his feet in an instant. Throwing on his clothes, he helped you clean up first, then put on your clothes and threw the to-go bag in the car. 

The blond does not show his emotions easily, yet you can tell he is nervous from his thumping leg and jittery fingers. As he made his way to the hospital, he kept looking at you, checking on your condition. 

Arriving, the nurses were quick to take you away to get checked and placed in a birthing room. You had to deal with the contractions that came in rolling waves of pain and tight uncomfortableness. 

Laying on the hospital bed with the time ticking and your contractions beginning to arrive quicker than before, something hot started to creep up your spine. 

Nerves and anxiety spiked, overwhelming you as they gripped your mind tightly. Tsukishima noticed the slight change in your demeanor quickly, rolling his chair closer to your side. 

"What's wrong?" He asked genuinely. 

You can only look up at him with tears in your eyes. "I'm scared, Kei. What if something goes wrong? What if-" He silences you efficiently with one of his hands moving to hold the side of your face. 

"It's okay to be scared," he murmured, looking at you with tender eyes. "I'm scared, too. I'm afraid to finally hold our daughter in my arms and realize that our entire world will revolve around that little thing." His thumb caressed your cheek, the calloused texture scratchy yet comforting against your skin. "We're going to be okay. Our daughter is going to be okay. God, I can't even wait to hear her annoying little baby cries." 

You cannot help but laugh and reach to hold tightly onto his other hand. "That's going to get old real fast." 

"It will," he replied, smiling genuinely. "But we'll experience it all together." 

For the rest of the night, he was by your side, holding your hand and distracting you from the contractions. When Shiori came and said you were dilated enough, the birthing began. 

It's happening—it was finally happening! After months of preparation, after months of talking to her through your skin, she'll be out here, able to be held in your arms. 

The childbirth classes you took prepared you for this, and they told you about the pain, but the process of pushing her out through your pelvis was a pain you were absolutely unprepared for. You had screamed and grunted, choking on your own breath as you pushed. 

Period cramps had nothing on this; you couldn't even fathom it. Tsukishima was actually useful, letting you squeeze his hand until it almost broke and talking you through it. His voice was so soothing as he attempted to keep his pitch calm.

With him by your side as a support pillar, you felt safe and secure. And to think you were going to do it alone before. How strong all those single mothers must be to be able to lay here in this bed and experience this pain by themselves. 

And finally, after several hours of pushing and screaming and crying, the shrill cry of a newborn filled the delivery room. Oh, her little cry, it blared over the sounds of the machine and nurses talking. 

"You did it." Tsukishima congratulated you with a kiss on your sweaty temple. "So proud of you, Princess." 

Smiling weakly, the two of you watched as a midwife took your daughter to a sink and cleaned her carefully before weighing her. Your hand that was gripping him from the pain was now merely holding him tightly to ground yourself back to reality. 

She's so tiny, yet she already has a head of thick hair. The midwife wrapped your baby carefully in a pink blanket and small little pink beanie before placing her on your chest.  

You and your partner just stare at her in awe, overwhelmed by her ugly cuteness. Her crying had ceased, and finally, her eyes had opened to stare back at you two with her father's golden brown eyes. It's so warm; her gaze is so warm and innocent. 

These little sounds vibrate on your skin. It's like her little humming and gurgling are helping your heartbeat. This is your baby, the daughter of you, and the love of your life. 

"There's no one I'd rather have been the mother to my child," Tsukishima muttered while raising a finger to rub against her cheek. "Only you could give me such a beautifully ugly thing." 

A laugh reverberates against your chest, and your daughter curls her head against your skin as if she recognizes who you are. "Do you think she will be tall?"

"Interesting thing to ask right after birth." The blond replied, looking at you sideways before knocking your head lightly with his. "Whether she'll be tall or not, we'll find out together. But I know she'll be as pretty as her mother." 

You grin, overwhelmed by the pure happiness you are feeling at this moment. "I love you." Your first words were directed at your daughter before you looked up to meet your boyfriend's gaze. "And I love you too." 

His lips pursed, tight and firm, before he closed his eyes and rested his head atop yours. "I love you too."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Requested by detredoomy on Wattpad.

She wanted some drama and toxicity, so I gave it to her.

This is actually the first character x reader story I've written in two years. Everything has been about my monster OCs, lmao. It felt nice to go back to my roots as an anime oneshot writer and pull the moves out.

Please show some support by liking/commenting so I know if you're enjoying it.

If you'd like to make a request, please do so on the first page under the request arrow so I don't lose your request in the comments.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳If you'd like to support me or read 5+ drafts of BD, or my other stories, please consider buying me Kofi. Thank you :)

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐚 signing out

See ya later, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐬!

[act-nat-ural]

It started when Kuroo referred to you as his ‘karaoke wife.’ Kenma’s face twisted into one of clear disgust. “What does that even mean..” Kuroo threw an arm around your shoulder and gave you a smug look. “Care to explain?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hold back your smile. “It means we only go to karaoke if the other is going.” The team gave you an unimpressed look as Kuroo gestured for you to go on. You sighed and avoided eye contact, mumbling, “We also only do duets with each other.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as Fukunaga let out a giggle and Yamamoto muttered, “I wish I had a karaoke wife,” under his breath.

Kuroo chuckled, sensing your discomfort. “What she means is, we’ve got a vibe when we sing together. Like, there’s this chemistry between us that just clicks. It’s like we can read each other’s minds, you know? We can start a song without saying a word, and it just flows. Perfect harmonies, smooth transitions… It’s like we’re in sync. Like we *get* each other, musically.”

The team looked between you and Kuroo with varying degrees of skepticism. Kenma raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, chemistry, sure.”

“You know,” Kuroo continued, leaning back and grinning, “There’s a special kind of magic when you’re so in tune with someone. We can make any song sound like it’s meant for us. Ever heard of ‘The Power of Love’?” He looked to you, eyes glinting. “It’s like, you and I? We can turn even the cheesiest love songs into something everyone wants to listen to. And don’t get me started on our ‘Shallow’ duet. We had the whole room cheering.”

You felt the familiar rush of both pride and bashfulness. “It’s not that impressive,” you muttered, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. You were secretly proud of the way your voices blended, the effortless way you made each performance feel unique.

“Are you kidding?” Kuroo scoffed, clearly enjoying the teasing. “I’m pretty sure we make every karaoke night legendary. I mean, do you see how we make the crowd react? They go wild. It's not just the song—it’s us. We’ve got that... thing.”

The team was silent for a moment, trying to process what Kuroo was saying. Finally, Fukunaga spoke up, a teasing smile creeping up on his face. “I don’t know, man. If I’m ever looking for a duet partner, I might just steal (Name)  away from you.”

Kuroo’s face immediately shifted into mock offense. “Try it. You’ll regret it.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re being a little dramatic, aren’t you?”

“Nope.” Kuroo leaned forward, his voice dropping an octave. “You and I? We’ve got karaoke magic. I’m not just letting anyone ruin that.��

You couldn’t help but laugh, the embarrassment from earlier melting away in the warmth of Kuroo’s words. He always knew how to make you feel special, and even though the teasing never stopped, you had to admit—it was kind of nice to be his ‘karaoke wife.’ The team might not get it, but you knew. When you two sang together, nothing else mattered.

But just as the moment seemed to settle, a voice rang out from Yamamoto, his grin wide and mischievous. “Kuroo, you do know you two are terrible, right?”

Kuroo’s confident smile faltered slightly, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Excuse me?”

Yamamoto shrugged with a grin, and Kenma, looking utterly bored, added dryly, “I mean, you both sound like two dying cats trying to harmonize. It’s not really the chemistry you think it is.”

The whole team, seemingly in agreement, nodded along. “You guys literally can’t stay on key for more than a few notes,” Fukunaga chimed in, barely suppressing his laughter.

You blushed, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. “Okay, okay, maybe we're not great... but it’s fun, right?”

“You and Kuroo are the worst,” Kenma said, deadpan. “You sound like you’re trying to hit notes that just don’t exist.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the realization. “We’re not that bad,” you protested, but even you knew it was true. Kuroo, despite his confidence, was as tone-deaf as they came, and your singing wasn’t much better. 

Kuroo threw his hands up dramatically. “You’re all just jealous of our unmatched charisma!”

The team snickered, and Yamamoto playfully patted Kuroo on the back. “Sure, buddy. But hey, we’ll still cheer you on. You’re great... at making everyone else sound better.”

With that, you and Kuroo exchanged a look, both of you trying not to crack up. Despite all the teasing, you knew one thing for sure—karaoke with Kuroo was never about being the best. It was about having fun, creating memories, and laughing at how awful your singing was. And honestly? That was more than enough for both of you.

note: kinda short but oh well

[spidercatweb]

Feeling Better ★ Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: umm ok i fear there are a lot. Emetophobia warning (r does NOT get sick, i tried to describe it as little as possible, r is very emetophobic and freaks out), unintentional(?) s/h (scratching as a distraction, no blood is drawn), r has a panic attack esque thing going on?? idk she freaks out and shuts down (just like me fr), fem!bau!reader, hurt/comfort, a little bit of angst(?), happy ending with some fluff :). i think that's it? kind of established relationship with r and spencer idk...

Description: the team is at a bar, r is already anxious, it gets a million times worse when someone there throws up. Spencer helps r get away from the situation and calms her down.

Word Count: 2,227

A/n: reader is literally me, i wrote this for myself and i hope the other emetophobia girlies enjoy <3 if you can relate to this im so so sorry :( i know how it feels :(

The team is at a bar tonight, having just finished a case; it was a nice way to relax and socialize. The team - except for you and Spencer - all had alcoholic beverages. Spencer didn't really like the taste or feeling of alcohol, you had just never wanted to drink. You could have a fun time without it. You all sat around a big table in the back corner of the bar, enjoying each other's company. The whole team was intently listening to one of Garcia’s odd anecdotes. You sat beside Spencer, already feeling a little overwhelmed, but you were still having a good time. You smiled and laughed along with the rest of the team.

Suddenly, your hearing focused on another situation in the establishment. A heavily intoxicated man at the bar is telling the bartender how he “can handle another drink" and that he “won't get sick this time". You immediately tense up. Even the thought of the possibility of that happening makes your anxiety spike. You try to focus on the conversation at the table and calm yourself down.

Nothing is going to happen, you’ll be okay. You repeat this to yourself in your head. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, you cross your arms and begin tapping your fingers on your arms rhythmically.

Spencer notices the shift in your behavior, he notices that you're a bit zoned out, staring at the salt and pepper shakers on the table. He doesn't say anything, but he keeps it in mind to ask you later what was wrong, it was probably nothing anyway. You were probably just overwhelmed with all the noise.

Thirty minutes pass. You’ve mostly forgotten about what you overheard earlier, focusing instead on the insanity that was Morgan’s dating life, which he was explaining in way too much detail. You snicker and share a shocked look with Spencer when Morgan says something particularly explicit.

Slurred speech enters your earshot once again, the drunk man at the bar. He’s saying that he shouldn't have ordered that last drink. Disgusting. A frown appears on your face. You begin to dig your nails into your arms. Don’t think about it. Nothing’s going to happen. Focus on your friends. Nothing bad will happen with them.

It happens. The man at the bar gets sick. All over the bar. Tears well up in your eyes and you shut them tightly, your face flushes. You slowly drag your nails down your arms, digging them in deeper, leaving bright red marks. You need to leave. Now.

Spencer notices the scene unfolding at the bar, he knows how absolutely horrible it makes you feel, you've told him about it before. He looks at you and hovers a hand over your shoulder. You feel the warmth of him through the dizzying panic rushing through you.

"Hey, do you want to leave?" His voice is quiet and calm, only loud enough for you to hear, not disturbing the rest of the team. You nod and he begins to stand up.

You want to follow, but you feel like you can't move. You stand up weakly, forcing yourself to move. Still frantically scratching and digging your nails into your arms, because it feels like the only thing that will distract you from what's going on. You open your eyes and your vision blurs from tears. Spencer grabs your purse from the booth, making sure you won’t have to come back in for it if you don’t want to.

He leads you towards the door and away from the situation, hand hovering over the small of your back, "Come on, let's get outside".

The rest of the team looks concerned for you. Garcia stops telling her story for a moment, she knows what's going on.

"She just needs a bit of air. Don't think they'll be back though," she nods to what's happening at the bar, the team understands.

When you exit the building, you're a crying mess, basically hyperventilating, still clawing at yourself, not hard enough to draw blood, but you will if you continue.

"Y/n, I need you to stop scratching yourself, you're gonna be okay, we're not going back in there." He tries to make eye contact with you. You frantically shake your head, continuing what you're doing, taking in a stuttered gasp, holding back a sob.

"Can you talk?" Spencer knows the answer is probably no. You shake your head once again, confirming this. He looks around for a place to sit, "Okay... let's go sit down, there's a bench over there." He nods his head towards the bench, ghosting his hand over the small of your back. You start slowly towards it, he follows closely behind.

You sit, so does he. Your legs shake almost violently out of anxiety. The cold, fresh air does a little to calm your nerves, but the sounds keep replaying in your head. You try your best to busy your hands with something other than scratching yourself, you know you need to stop. You begin running your hands through your hair in a steady manner. You close your eyes and try to take slow, deep breaths. Spencer quietly observes, his presence is enough to remind you that everything will be okay. He waits patiently, not expecting you to say anything.

After taking a shaky breath, you whisper a barely audible "Sorry." You wipe your eyes with your sleeves then hold your hands together tightly. Digging your nails into the backs of them. You feel bad for pulling Spencer away from the rest of the team.

"It's okay, you have nothing to be sorry about. It's a very common phobia, actually. I read an article a while ago with evidence that 20% of people who go to therapy report emetophobia as a main reason for going." His fact is not very fun, but you can tell he's trying to calm you down in the best way he knows how. He glances at your tightly clasped hands, your knuckles white and shaky, nails digging into your skin once again.

He offers a soothing solution, "Do you want to hold my hands instead?" He puts his hands out for you to take. He wants to get you to stop hurting yourself, he knows you don’t mean to. It makes him sad to see you like this.

You unclasp your hands and reach out to his. His hands are shockingly cold, but the coolness in contrast to your warmth is calming. You squeeze his hands, a silent thank you. He squeezes yours back.

“Do you want me to talk? Or just stay quiet?” He asks, gently rubbing his thumbs across your knuckles.

“Talk?” You attempt to smile, but it’s more of a pout. It breaks Spencer’s heart to see you like this.

“Okay… um. Well… You didn’t drink tonight, right? You had iced tea?” You nod as he slowly leads up to a ramble. “And I wasn’t drinking either,” he reminds you, “when alcohol is consumed, the liver processes it into a highly reactive and toxic chemical called acetaldehyde. Which is actually used in plenty of herbicides and insecticides, of course, not sourced from the human body.” You can feel his hands itching to gesture along with his sentences. But they stay right there, holding yours.

“The liver then converts this acetaldehyde into acetate, which the body can remove by converting it into water and carbon dioxide. But when there’s too much, and the liver can’t process it quickly enough, the body gets rid of it, well… in a different way. That’s most likely what was happening to that guy in there.” You stare off into space at the reminder, idly nodding slowly to show you’re listening.

“So… he isn’t sick. It isn’t anything you can catch. You weren’t drinking tonight either. Nothing like that will happen to you tonight. Or me. We’re fine, we’re safe.” He reassures you calmly, lightly squeezing your hands. Your eyes flicker to his and you give him another nod.

By now, you’ve mostly stopped crying. You sniffle every few seconds, but it’s a major improvement from the sobs you were letting out just minutes ago. The deep breaths of cold air help to calm you as well. But your heart and head are still racing, you take in unbalanced, jagged breaths, still struggling to keep it fully together.

“Thanks, Spencer.” Your voice is slightly gravelly when you speak.

“No problem.” He smiles warmly, “Are you feeling a little better?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “the cold air is nice, and it’s quiet, and… you’re here. You’re always really helpful when I get like this.” You huff out a sad laugh, hiding your embarrassment about how Spencer always seems to be the one helping you out.

“I’m glad. I like it when you’re okay, so I’m glad I can help.” he blushes slightly. “And honestly, it was getting way too loud in there for me. I’m pretty sure you’d be the one bringing me out here if we stayed in any longer.” He half-jokes. You chuckle slightly. The last thing he wants is for you to feel bad about something you can’t control.

“So… I’m guessing you don’t want to go back in either?” You look down at your hands still in his.

“No, not- not really.” He shakes his head.

You both think in a moment of comfortable silence.

“Do you- Would you like me to drive you home?” He asks hesitantly.

“Do I trust you to drive my car?” You joke lightheartedly.

“Hey!” He laughs along with you.

“And how would you get home?” You ask, “Planning to stay over, Doctor?” You tease him with the nickname. You’re clearly feeling better.

“Well- I- I actually didn’t think about that, yeah. Um, I could...” He rushes to find another response. “Would you mind if I did?” he asks nervously.

“Spence, I wouldn’t mind at all. It would actually be nice, I’d rather not be alone tonight.” You smile, he mirrors your expression.

“Really?” He asks, “If you don’t want me to, it’s okay. I don’t want to be invading your space or anything.”

“Do you want to stay over?”

“I uh- yeah. Yes I do.” he nods.

“Okay, let’s go then.” You slip one of your hands out of his grasp as you get up from the bench, still holding his other. He gets up after you, politely handing you your purse. You thank him quietly as you take it.

You both walk to the parking lot of the bar, where your car is parked. After you unlock the car, like the gentleman he is, he opens the passenger door for you. The ride to your place is lovely, Spencer spits out all the random facts he can think of during the twenty minute drive. You rest your head lightly against the window, listening to him speak as you gaze at the outside world passing by. His soft, constant tone lulls you into a light sleep.

When he parks the car, he unbuckles his seatbelt and lightly taps your shoulder, welcoming you back with a smile. “We’re here, sorry to wake you up.” His hand rests on your shoulder for a moment.

You groan slightly as you get out of the car, “Why is being stressed out so exhausting?”

“Well, when you’re stressed, your body releases hormones like cortisol, which put you in fight-or-flight mode,” he starts. You walk beside him, sneakily grasping his hand with yours as you head towards the entrance of your apartment building. He pauses for a second, looking down at your hands. He smiles, then continues.

“And when you have high stress levels for a prolonged amount of time, it tires out your brain, leading to emotional exhaustion. So really, you might not be physically tired, just mentally.”

“Hmm. Well, I feel exhausted either way.” You huff out a laugh, leaning into his side.

He hums in agreement, opening the building’s door and letting you enter first.

When you finally get into your apartment, you realize an important detail. “Spencer, do you have clothes here? Or like, pajamas?” You can’t remember from the last time he was here, you knew he at least had a pair of pajamas, because you’d been wearing the shirt to sleep for the past week.

“Um- yeah, I think so? I think I left some here last time. Bottom drawer of your dresser, right?”

“Mhm,” You nod, “shower first, then bed?” You suggest.

“Okay.” He agrees easily.

***

You go in first, Spencer goes in after you. When he comes back into your room, he sees you wearing one of his shirts. “Is that…?” He points to you.

“Yes.” You grin happily.

“So that’s where it went.” He joins you in your bed.

You cuddle up to him, laying your head comfortably on his chest. He rests a hand on your back, tracing patterns lightly with his pointer finger.

“Are you feeling better than earlier?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm, a lot better.” You bring a hand up to lightly rest on his chest.

“That’s good.”

The beating of Spencer’s heart up against your ear, combined with the quiet sounds of his steady breathing lull you into a peaceful sleep. He stays awake longer than you do, listening to your slow breaths, making sure you’re completely asleep before he drifts off.

Thank you for reading!! <3

Any feedback is very much appreciated!

My requests are open!

[darnell-la]

Can I request a Dark!Steve where female reader is Bucky’s little sister and lives with him and one day Steve visits for the weekend (for Bucky) and basically tortures the reader and sneaks into her room at night to yk… And Bucky has no idea.

note: it’s so hard making a dark Steve Rogers because he gives none of those vibes in every Marvel movie, but we did it. have fun!

warnings: backstabbing, perv, fetish, cnc, smut, manhandling, choking, rough sex, etc

Steve has always known y/n, but never paid attention to her when they were younger. All Steve and Bucky focused on was being boys in the military. Even after traumatic events, Bucky makes his way to Steve’s place to hang out.

Finally, after a while of convincing, Bucky got Steve to come to his house for once. Steve had always said y/n wouldn’t want old men in her house watching games and drinking beer, but Bucky insisted and made sure to tell him about his pay into the bills for this huge house.

“Finally, you’re here,” Bucky said as he opened the front door to greet Steve. “Sorry, there were so many options,” Steve said as he held up a case of bears that he had never tried before.

“Well, beer is beer. You can put them in the fridge, then meet me in the living room. Y/n is cooking for the night,” Bucky said before closing the door and walking away to catch up on the game that he had turned in for the night.

Steve is new to the house, but not new to hanging out with Bucky, so he walked through his house like it was his with no worry. As soon as he hit the kitchen, his head took a spin.

“Oh, hey, Mrs. Rogers — Long time, no see,” y/n said as she cooked, only taking one look at Steve before she went back to concentrating. She hated messing up her food, especially when feeding other people than herself.

“Yeah, yeah, I- I guess it has been,” Steve said as his mind aimlessly scanned y/n’s figure. She looked older than usual, but in a good way. Everything had filled out for her, and that made Steve feel disgusted in himself. Why would he notice that? She’s his best friend’s sister.

“So, uh, how has life been treating you?” Steve asked as he started putting up the beers he brought over, while slightly taking a look at her fingers. She wasn’t married.

“It’s been fine. Just focusing on college and work. That’s all,” y/n said, not really making too much conversation because this part of the recipe was the hardest, and she had no time to mess up.

“Oh, well, it was nice seeing you again,” Steve said as y/n turned around to give him a slight smile before continuing her work. As he walked out of the kitchen, he couldn’t help but get one last look at her figure, especially her ass that had seemed so perfect. What was wrong with him?

Throughout the night, Steve had been thinking about y/n. Of course, he was having fun with his best friend, but y/n kept coming into his mind like she was something he had to check off a list for the night.

The way she looked and sounded would constantly roam around in his mind. She was prettier than back then. How was that possible? She looked like the woman he and Buck would crush on.

“So, you’re staying the night, right?” Bucky asked his best friend, hoping he’d just say yes. “Uh, yeah, since I’ve been thinking about it,” Steve said without thinking. Well, he was. He was thinking about y/n. It’s like he wanted more time around her, even though she’s been in the dining room doing work and eating.

“Great, I’ll go ahead and get the guest room ready since we’re at halftime right now,” Bucky said right before getting up and making his way upstairs. The house they lived in was huge, meaning he’d probably take a while, so Steve got up.

“So, college, huh? What, uh- What year?” Steve asked as he made his way into the dining room. “Senior year,” y/n replied with a smile. “Hmm, so I’m guessing you’re smart and all that, yeah?” Steve asked, making y/n chuckle. “Yeah, I guess you can say that,”

“Yeah, well, me and your brother would’ve never made it into college. I mean, look at us,” Steve said, knowing y/n remembers the old times they’d have when they were all young. Usually, y/n was never with them, but she’d hear about them.

It had gotten a little quiet. No odd tension, but Steve was desperate to continue a conversation. He was desperate for an answer.

“So, uh, and man treating you right?” Steve asked, making y/n shake her head. “Haven’t been thinking about dating. I’ve got too much on my mind,” y/n said, speaking the truth.

“Kind of hard to believe,” Steve said under his breath, yet not low enough for y/n to not hear. “Why?” Y/n asked. “Oh, uh, because you’re pretty. You’ve really grown, and I just feel like a lot of men would be after you now,” Steve said under pressure.

“Yeah,” y/n slightly smiled, not knowing exactly how to respond to that, but it was Steve. He’s been best friends with her brother for years. He wouldn’t ever mean anything by that.

“Goodnight,” Steve said as he passed y/n who had been heading towards her room. “Goodnight!” Y/n said back, making Steve feel a certain way. He’s been feeling a way about y/n all night. He knew it was fucked, but he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t.

She had gotten so hot, he saw her as another woman he and Bucky would be going after.

As Steve went to make his way towards the guest room, Steve heard the shower turn on. Y/n’s shower. That’s when he froze.

Bucky had already made his way to bed, and now y/n and he were the only ones up. What if he had made more conversation with her? What if he scoped out her room, just to see. Just to see.

Within seconds, Steve made his way into y/n’s room, locking the door behind him for some reason. It’s almost like Steve’s body moved before his kind. He wasn’t able to think before doing.

The smell of y/n’s body wash instantly hit Steve’s nose. The way the room smelled made Steve think how y/n would smell. Would she look hotter if she smelled this way? God, everything was going wrong with Steve, but by the second, he couldn’t care less. He was taking a huge risk. Like being in her bedroom with the door locked.

For a second, Steve just wanted to walk around the room and see what was going on, but now. Now, he wanted a look at her. He couldn’t ignore the huge bulge in his pants anymore.

“Shit,” Steve cussed as he pushed his cock down while making his way towards her bathroom. “What the hell is wrong with me?” Steve asked himself as his hand touched her bathroom door.

Without thinking, he opened it slowly and quietly. Now he could hear y/n singing clearly with her music in the background. Something about that turned him on. Everything was turning him on. His kind was going crazy over his best friend’s sister. Why was that?

After a while, Steve didn’t even know he had stepped all the way into the bathroom. There weren’t any places to really hide with his size. He was visible, yet something in him didn’t care.

Why would she make a scene? He’s her brother’s best friend. It’s not like he’d ever hurt her. All he’d do is protect her like his own sister. Actually, that was a lie, because he’d never get hard around his own sister.

“God, I’m tired,” Steve heard y/n say right before she turned the shower off. Steve had no true idea what he was doing in here, but he quickly stood on the wall next to her shower.

Y/n opened the shower curtain with a sigh, not really paying attention to anything around her. That was until she looked up and saw Steve in the reflection. “Oh my-“ Steve went to scream in shock, but the man quickly grabbed her and placed his hand on her mouth to shut her up.

“Ssh, ssh, it’s just me,” Steve said like that would make y/n feel better, but it didn’t. She was completely naked, and his hard-on wasn’t hard to feel with his tight and slightly thin pants.

“Stop, I’m not going to hurt you,” Steve said as he pulled her wet body closer into his. “I just wanted to talk, that’s all,” Steve said, trying to bring up something so this wouldn’t seem weird, but he couldn’t. His cock was not on his side.

“Let me go, Steve,” y/n muffled through his hand, slightly upsetting Steve. Usually, she calls him Mr. Rogers. He’s much older than her, so why would she stop? What was her problem?

“Just relax, y/n,” Steve said as he began walking out of the bathroom. “No!” Y/n kicked and slapped to get free, almost forgetting that he and her brother are super soldiers. She wasn’t getting anywhere if he didn’t let her go.

“C’mon, y/n, stop that shit,” Steve said as he threw the younger girl into her bed, that to hover over her and pin her down. “What the hell is wrong with you!? Get off! Get out!” Y/n yelled, instantly gaining Steve’s hand over her mouth again.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut!” Steve slightly yelled, upset that she could’ve woken Bucky up if he hadn’t gone to sleep yet, but thankfully for him, these walls are thick and brick. “If you continue to make noise, I will do something I would never want to do to you,” Steve threatened.

Even though y/n didn’t know what that would be, she kept her tone down. If Steve had changed and gotten in danger, Bucky wouldn’t have made it in the room in time to save her. She was now vulnerable.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I just simply want to get to know you better. It’s been years, and I just- I just can’t believe my eyes,” Steve said as he looked down at y/n’s wet and naked body, scanning her like his last meal.

“Once I let your mouth go, I expect you to keep it quiet enough for my best friends not to hear, okay? If you disobey, I don’t know what I’ll do, but I know it’ll shut you up,”

Y/n stayed silent, more afraid of his second threat as he removed his hands. She wanted to scream, but super soldiers can go insane in seconds.

“Like I said, y/n — It’s just so hard to believe how attractive you are. I don’t even want to keep my hands to myself anymore,” Steve said as he used in is his hands to grope one of y/n’s breast lightly.

“Fuck,” Steve cussed, mind kicking everywhere before he sipped down to wrap his tongue around her nipple and suck. Y/n began to move, trying to tell him to get off without screaming, but he wouldn’t budge.

A few moans escaped her mouth, making her feel sick and doomed. There was nothing she could do if everything he was going to do to her would make her give a natural reaction.

“Tastes so good,” Steve said before moving his slips to her other nipple, sucking down a bit hard to he could force out her moans. Tears began to stream down y/n’s face because she knew nothing could be done. He wasn’t like he used to be. The old Steve wouldn’t do this to her. Right?

“Just keep moaning, and this’ll all feel good for her both of us,” Steve whispered on her breast as his hands moved down to his bulge. At first, he palmed himself, wanting to savor everything, but within seconds he took himself out. He needed to feel her.

“No, Steve, please — Please don’t do this to me,” y/n begged as she felt his cock rub against her lips. By the way he felt, she knew he was huge and hard. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want any of this.

“I’m not doing anything to you, y/n. I’m not hurting you, so stop your whining,” Steve said right before he started laughing at her entrance. Y/n lacked lubricant, so she felt like she was being ripped apart.

“Ssh, princess, ssh,” Steve tried calming y/n down as he slid further into her heart, only forcing y/n to feel the pain in her lower stomach. He was huge, and he wasn’t thinking. He just wanted to feel her lips wrap around his cock and suck him in.

“It feels so good, just please hold on, fuck,” stave cussed at the end, feeling his head god wild. He just knew she’d feel this tight all the time. He could imagine it. He bet she’d always been this tight. Even when they were younger.

“Please, Steve- No more!” Y/n cried out as she tried pushing at his body, but that only made him wrap one hand around her neck and use his other hand to grab her waist. That’s when he began pounding into her without thinking.

Y/n’a cried for louder, and she thought that would alarm Steve, but that only made him want to continue to go rougher. Bucky wouldn’t be able to hear them anyway. Steve had y/n to himself all night.

“You’re soaking my cock so much, I bet I can use all of that to prepare your ass — Do you think we can do that?” Steve asked, making y/n’s heart beat faster, and her fight harder.

“We’ll see soon then,”

[jakesangel]

jealous jake ꣑୧

as a scorpion man, jake would often be jealous to you, his possessiveness showing up when the members look at you a little too much for his liking or at random men on the street. he can act cocky when he can trust the other man, meaning his member but if he doesn't know him, there would be a hint of insecurity in him.

as you guys went shopping, jake will always be following you like the puppy he is, holding the clothes you want to try or just your hand bag. you could send him to change one piece of clothing size, he would automatically agree and go straight to wear he should go without forgetting to kiss your temple. but when he sees you chatting with another man, he would come back fast to you. hi baby, i found your size, he'd say staring at the unknown man in front of you, who is this ? he would then add with faux honesty. and even if you reassure him in telling him you were telling the unknown man that you have a boyfriend but that wouldn't stop his scorpio feelings to come out, so she told you she has a boyfriend and you're still here ? finally showing his true color. as the other man leaves you guys be he would finally look back at you w a pout and whine that's why i can't let you alone a single second out or you're too pretty to stay alone baby, he would say as he hugs you. after that incidence, he wouldn't let you alone for a second nor his small pout would go away : he doesn't know how to ask for reassurance n his body can't help but show it. so if you tell him what he needs to hear, in an other shop, he would abruptly ask you baby, you love me and only me right ? or you'll never leave me, right ?

as you come at the door unnoticed to surprise jake, his member heesung open you the door with a welcoming hug. as you guys start to chat, jakes wouldn't miss to hear your voice, n would come out of his bedroom, your sudden venue making his imaginary tail waving, only seeing you so happily greet his fellow member w a hug. usually he wouldn't mind as he loves you also because you're nice n sweet but as you are currently dressed up specially for him, wearing his fav mini skirt w a more or less revealing top, he can't help but question why would ou let another man touch you that way. he would be even more baffled as he see you interact w him instead of coming straight to him. hi babe, he would say coming close to you, one hand on your waist the other on holding your cheek before finally kissing you deeply wanting to disgust heesung away from the both of you. he would even out the tongue in it, kissing you for minutes if that means he will leave you alone. as the public is finally gone, he wouldn't ask your question wether on why he is suddenly kissing you like this, but would lead you the his room. why were you hugging him ? or what were you doing ? would be asked his jealousy barely hidden. you'd obviously finally get why he is being like this, as it's not the first time jake likes to claim you in front of other people, and if you tease him about it, he'd act obvious jealous ? me ? pfft no, why would i be jealous for. and he would take him few minutes for him to admit, yes i am jealous, so horribly jealous, he would finally admit coming closer to you, you know i cant have all of these people all over you, specially when you look like that baby, he would murmur, his hands coming to your waist strongly pulling you closer to him. and i don't like sharing, he'd add as he would bend down to your height so what if i'm jealous, you're mine, he would barely whisper right in top of your lips before kissing you again.

notes : who else want jake to claim them @___@

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee

[nymphbroadcast]

Can we get the octa trio with a fluttershy reader please? I just Love her!!!!

Octavinelle x MC! Like Fluttershy

⊹Synopsis ⊹ೃ 🌊⋆The Octavinelle boys with an MC! or Yuu like Fluttershy.

⊹Relationship ⊹ೃ 🌊⋆ Fall in love / free of interpretation.

⊹FEM! MC/Yuu/Reader ⊹ೃ⋆

⊹Clarifications: my Little Pony Fluttershy pony ver!

⊹Fluttershy's Analysis ⊹ೃ 🌊⋆

• Fluttershy is the living representation of kindness, her personality is introverted but not asocial, since she enjoys spending time with her friends, she is gentle with her acquaintances and friends, although she prefers the company of animals since due to the bullying she suffered from young, his consolation was the company of butterflies and other animals. At that moment she discovered her talent for handling animals and beasts of all kinds. Despite her shy and calm personality, Fluttershy is also a person with a strong character, not necessarily aggressive but firm in her ideals and, if necessary, protecting her friends... Fluttershy does not judge by appearances and always tries to find a second chance for those seeking redemption. Although she can also be insecure and doubtful and carry a lot of guilt on herself, she´s very talented in her 'work' with her animals, maybe like a Vet in the series. Unlike Twilight, Fluttershy is not from an aristocratic family, but she is not from a poor family either since it is mentioned that her father worked in a cloud factory and for his part he has a large house in the most natural areas of Ponyville. And the others seem to go to only her for advice regarding their pets, Fluttershy is a balance between peace and chaos.

Azul Ashengrotto

🐙 Cute butterfly... You get on Azul's nerves, you know? You must be doing it on purpose.

🐙 At first, Azul, without knowing you, begins to feel nervous, you are too kind, you do things for others and you don't even receive a payment, you must be dangerous, that is his conclusion.

🐙 Since no one has ever been genuinely nice to Azul, Azul has a hard time getting used to how selfless you seem to be.

🐙 You're so gentle, even while he's trying to manipulate you with the Dorm Ramshakle, Azul was genuinely expecting you to yell and insult him, you're full of surprises, aren't you? - Chapter 3

🐙 Although he must admit that he underestimated you... You're smart, strong and you have limits... That itself only makes him panic, you're like a dolphin, cute and seemingly friendly, but you can be genuinely scary sometimes. – Chapter 3

🐙 Luckily for him, you're the embodiment of kindness (Literally) and even after he tried to steal Ramshakle from you, manipulate you, and almost kill you in his Overblot, you're still kind and understanding to him, Azul almost genuinely feels like he's gonna crying. – Chapter 3

🐙 After all... Azul begins to feel more and more desirous of your kindness and genuine affection, looking for a way to see you and feel your genuine affection.

🐙 Azul genuinely wonders how you are so transparent, he has seen you talk more to animals than to people, you are shy and anxious, how do you do it? He needs the advice.

🐙 But, Azul begins to grow fonder of you every time he sees you, he is glad that despite everything, you were able to forgive him and continue to be so kind and gentle with him. Who knows, maybe it's a deeper affection than Azul believes, maybe even genuine love.

Jade Leech

🍄 Jade finds you adorable, you don't really like socializing or being the center of attention and yet, one way or another, you always end up doing it.

🍄 For Jade it is also funny how your kindness often works against you, since you don't want to hurt other people's feelings you usually resist your displeasure and end up helping (even if it is something you don't like, fear or feel disgusted by) and maybe Jade sometimes (almost always) takes advantage of this.

🍄 You are good with common animals and since you arrived at Twisted Wonderland you decided to study about the fauna there, so it is certain that you know a lot about the Tweels and Azul species, but don't use it against them, okay? They are just "innocent" guys.

🍄 That is something neutral for Jade, on the one hand you understand his behavior and his needs, on the other you can use it against him despite your kindness, although we all know how sadistic he can be, so he probably provokes you on purpose to see your reaction.

🍄 Something else to highlight is that Jade loves it when you lose control, you are so kind and shy almost all the time... Until someone breaks that way of yours, you scream and look harshly at whoever provoked you regardless of whether you are being the center of attention, which normally would make you panic. You can see this guy smilling with pleasure in the corner.

🍄 It's something unusual, but Jade tends to be more real with you, you don't judge him by his... Curious likes... For mushrooms, you even give him advice since you usually deal with animals that eat all kinds of plants and he thanks you... In its own way, but he does it.

🍄 Just like his twin Floyd, Jade finds you adorable, your natural but well-groomed appearance and adorable embarrassed expressions make this eel boy burst with you into a tight hug that could almost be mistaken as Floyd.

🍄 We would like to fool ourselves a little, but Jade is Jade, he takes advantage of your kindness a little to help him do his homework and your company. What can he say in his defense? That he likes your company... Which isn't a lie, actually.

🍄 For the same reason, Jade starts to develop that 'protective instinct' towards you, you are too kind and shy in his eyes that he should protect you, come on, the whole NRC is afraid of Tweels, so you have your cute eel boy as your personal bodyguard... Or something more, maybe...

🍄 Of course, maybe he mentally compare you to a pretty butterfly or a shrimp, just like Floyd does.

Floyd Leech

🏀 Are you two Discord and Fluttershy in this universe???

🏀 Well, in a way yes, you two are chaos (Floyd) and peace (you) in NRC.

🏀 We all know that Floyd has a similar way of being to Discord, rarely being serious and actually in great danger when he is...

🏀 You, on the other hand, prefer discreet and simple, here are two options: he calls you 'shrimpy' because you are easily scared by everything except real pests, or because you are shy.

🏀 Floyd loves to make fun of you, scaring you and chasing you, God help him be careful because you have patience and I don't think it's a good experience for him to receive 'the look'...

🏀 You seem adorable to him, squeezable and very tender, your big gentle eyes make his heart race and he can't help but fawn over you, pinch your cheeks or hug you for a long time.

🏀 Just like in the series, no one believes that you two are really friends, especially knowing Floyd's adventures, you are too good to even be his friend! Floyd is bothered, but as soon as you tell him that you like being with Because they are very different, he is immediately happy.

🏀 He likes to see you take care of the animals, it's funny how you keep Grimm like a spoiled baby knowing he's a beast! However, be careful if you interact too much with any brunette other than him... He may be jealous... In a strange way, obviously.

🏀 As an animal whisperer, you love that he's a merman! You insist a lot on seeing his mer form and he gladly shows it to you, you both spend a lot of time just playing in the water and having fun!

🏀 Eventually the two of you would become very fond of each other, Floyd is happy that you are his true friend, one who doesn't care if he is chaotic and different, you love him just the way he is and he loves you too...

Nymph's Note:

I'm loving these MLP requests since it's my favorite cartoon for a long time, I remind you again to read my rules in the post pinned to my profile for your requests!

I hope you enjoyed!

Remember to tune in, end of this broadcast!

Octavinelle Dorm x MC! Like Fluttershy Done!

[i-love-oldermen]

|Now you know my name| pt.1

A/n: I know it’s been a while but Ive recently started watching the boys and fell on my knees for this man. Literally on my knees for him, I love him so much.

Summary: After having a long mission all you wanted was a shower along with a sneaky link but What happens when you take a steamy shower pic and send it to the wrong person?

Warnings: Language, homel@nder (such a cunt)

Smut will happen in pt.2 I promise

Word count: 1.5k

Some of the basics you just joined the boys and have became close with Frenchie, Kimiko, M.M, Hughie, and even Annie. For some strange odd reason Butcher never seemed to be interested in you or even care to remember your name. You’ve tried being nice and understanding towards him but he either ignored you or walked off. That’s when you decided you weren’t going to pay attention to him anymore and for 3 whole weeks you haven’t.

You couldn’t think of Butcher at this exact moment though, the only thing you thought about was finishing a stupid mission to get some intel and get out quick. You sat with Frenchie and Kimiko in the van right behind Butcher who was driving. Everyone was busy talking who was doing what, when Hughie turned to you.

“You remember what your job is right y/n” he seemed nervous but serious.

To be totally honest today wasn’t the best day for you and you weren’t having it he told you your job over and over today least to say you were tired of it. Sure you were the youngest but you weren’t dumb.

Sarcastically you say “ You know what Hughie after the million times you told me, I don’t fucking remember”

The van got silent for a moment. Hughie was in shock along with M.M and Frenchie.

“Oí whats the matter with you” Butcher roughly says while looking in the mirror to look at you.

“Can you just drive” Rolling your eyes you avoid the gazes from everyone else by looking out the window. You see as Butcher he goes to say something but you just put on headphones and ignore him.

————————————————————————

After an agonizing car ride, the van comes to a full stop. You took off your headphones and climbed out of the van, Frenchie holding the door gave you an apologetic look. You pull down your pencil skirt fixing your blazer as well.

“You okay, mon amour” he put a hand on your face.

“Yeah Frenchie don’t worry about it” you gave him a comforting smile and turned to close the door.

The job today was to get into vought and plant a bug in Stan Edgar’s office. The seven haven’t seen your face around enough to remember it so you were the one going to sneak in.

Frenchie was hooking you up to a mic and camera so if you were to need back up you could get it within minutes. “Okay you should be able to get in and out with little obstacles” Hughie reassured you. M.M handed you the bug which you put in your phone case as Hughie did.

“Okay I think I’m ready to go” you were confident you were going to be able to do this.

“Aye don’t screw it up”

You turn to Butcher. He has a dumb smirk on his face that you want to punch off his face but you keep your composure while you put in your ear piece before walking away.

You pulled out your phone while walking in the building typing a message.

‘You’re such a cunt William , fuck you’

While walking through security and getting a pat down, you see Annie walk by she gives you a smile and a head tilt on which way to go. You are escorted by security up to the elevator. You had a cover as being an important investor to vought but you wanted to meet the man himself. Stan Edgar. Feeling your phone vibrate in your hand you look at it to see a message from Butcher. Without unlocking your phone to see the message you show it to the tiny camera connected to your shirt.

You hear through your earpiece, it’s Frenchie telling you to ignore the English man so you do putting your phone down to your side.

When you hear the elevator ding you are met with none other then Homelander. He has a disgusted look on his face as he looks at you. You start walking out of the elevator when he speaks.

“Have we met before”

You don’t know what to say almost to stun to speak so you just smile “No I don’t think so, maybe at a charity event”

You give a smile to reassure him. He looks you up and down seeing his expression change you change the topic. “Hey would you happen to know where Mr.Edgars office is?”

“Oh sweetheart you’re on the wrong floor” you cringe at the ‘sweetheart’ part feeling your skin crawl.

“Here I’ll take you” he states not making it seem like a question at all.

In your earpiece you hear Butcher -don’t fucking get in the elevator- he sounds furious so you take out your earpiece and take out earrings to cover it up and shoving it into your purse. Now your team can only see and hear you.

Homelander steps into the elevator holding the door for you, giving you an overwhelming smile “so are you coming or not”

You smile back to him before stepping inside the elevator. “Thank you so much for showing me”

He holds the smug smile on his face “No problem sweetheart” you cringe at the name again as your smile dies down. It becomes awkwardly silent as the building floors ding, you hear your phone starting to blow up. Homelander turns to you “You can answer that if you need to” you give him a head nod “oh it’s nothing important” he starts to speak as the doors open.

You take a step out quick not wanting to be with him a minute longer, leaving homelander in the elevator by himself. Thanking him you hurry to Stan Edgar’s office, he’s not in his office according to starlight. Quickly you pop in putting the bug under his office desk. You rush out of the office to be greeted yet again by the bitch in red white and blue.

“He wasn’t in there was he” he’s staring into your soul, taking a step closer to you.

“Oh no he’s not, my assistant was texting me that he rescheduled last minute” you smile to him hoping it would make your lie seem more believable.

“You’re a lying bitch” the supe threatens backing you into a corner with a freighting grin on his face.

“Excuse me”

“I do know you, you’re one of Huggies little friends aren’t you”

You try to shove him but he doesn’t move “I don’t know what you’re talking about” He pins your arms down.

“You’re lying, I can tell” His eyes start to glow red, when starlight comes into view.

She rushes to your side as she yells for him to let you go. He lets go “Oh hey starlight” he tries to play it off.

“Miss why don’t you come with me” She puts an arm around your shoulder, leading you back to the elevator. When inside the elevator and the doors close she turns to you with a worried look on her face.

“Did you really take out your earpiece”

“Yeah but Annie-“ you try to justify for yourself but she cuts you off.

“Y/n that was really risky, if it weren’t for Hughie who knows that homelander would have done”

“Okay im sorry” you didn’t mean it you still finished what you were suppose to and nothing that bad happened. You open your phone to see you have 10 messages all from Butcher.

Ignore the dumb cunt.

Don’t get in that fucking elevator.

You’re stuck with homelander how is that not in your fucking brain.

Y/n get out.

NOW.

Bloody hell stop being a cunt.

You’re going to get killed.

GET OUT!

He’ll KILL YOU!

Get the bloody hell away from him.

You have a shocked look on your face turning your phone to Annie. She has a puzzled look before grabbing your phone and looking at the messages. She’s shocked too. She covered your camera mouthing how she’s so shocked and didn’t know Butcher was this upset, totally agreeing with her as you are still in shock.

As the elevator doors open you separate now at the main floor, you step out of the elevator giving her a small wave. Walking towards the front door, you see a person you recognize pretending to read a newspaper. As you meet his eyes Butcher drops the paper and starts walking over to you. You stop walking standing in place in shock. He grabs you by your wrist before practically dragging you outside the building. M.m pulls up with the van before Butcher shoves you inside following you in climbing in the backseat. M.m drives away and that’s when Billy starts yelling.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking” he yelled.

“I think I planted the fucking bug” you yelled back at him getting into his face.

“You almost died y/n”

The van got quiet. Butcher had never said your name ever. To stunned to speak but still boiling with anger. You try to turn away putting on your headphones.

He pulls them off “I think the fuck not”

“Oh so now you want to act like you care like you’re my daddy”

You continued on “You treat me like shit just to care now, fuck you butcher”

Hughie tries to intervene “Guys come on-“

You turn to him “Hughie thanks for the back up but I swear to fucking god-“ you feel a hand go across your face. You hold your face.

You hear Frenchie in the back of the van “oh shit”

You turn to Butcher “Did you just fucking slap me”

[oddinary4bts]

Be With You | ch 7

☆summary: who knew that the hot guy you've been paired with for a class project is also a kind soul? Certainly not you, and you feel yourself falling even though you know you shouldn't. Will it be your demise, or will it all work out in the end?

☆pairing: Choi San x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: slow burn strangers to lovers, college!au, smut, angst and fluff

☆warnings: cursing, Jungkook, anxiety, San's dad, confessions, alcohol, a frat party, mentions of the Night (oc's past with jungkook), a panic attack, did I already say Jungkook explicit content: love making <3, hickey, fingering, praise

☆word count: 11k

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here

☆a/n: okay so this chapter delves into the characters little more than the previous ones, and the fic will turn more serious from now on. It's kind of personal to me, as I have an ex like Jungkook, but I'll let you read and build your opinion. PSA tho, it does talk about abusive relationships (quick mentions in this chapter only). But yeahhh I hope you still like it, it wouldn't be a fic of mine without angst haha and thank you to @moonleeai for your amazing work as my beta reader, I love you and am forever thankful for you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

Cold snowflakes Withered down Until you bloom As a spring flower I'll be with you

Be With You, Ateez (english translation)

☆☆☆☆☆

Monday, October 21st

The sheet mask on your features is cool as you lie on your bed, soft music playing in the background. Sydney chose the song and though you don’t know it, you make a mental note to add it to your playlist when you’re done with your mask.

“Why is this so long?” Sydney complains.

“Shhh. You put yours on after I did.”

“Masks suck.”

You snort. “It’s good for your skin. Gotta have nice skin for Yun.”

She sighs dramatically. “He doesn’t care about that.”

She’s right - when it comes to her, Yunho doesn’t care about anything other than her wellbeing. It’s always been like this and you’re happy, so so happy that they finally made their way to each other after your brother longed for her for years. 

“You’ll give him a heart attack from how pretty you are after this,” you try to say with confidence, but the words just make you cringe.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know.” You laugh in time with her, and then it’s your turn to sigh deeply, and hers to snort.

“What’s that sigh for?”

“I don’t know, man…”

But you do. Things have been amazing with San - too amazing - and every time you’ve thought about it since that first time you had sex, anxiety clutches at your chest. Fear delves into your soul, tainting the feelings that you know you have for him, and you imagine what it would be like to lose him.

What it would be like for him to be like Jungkook was in the end. Because Jungkook once was an angel. He’d bought you flowers, taken you on dates, showered you with love and affection… until he didn’t. Until affection turned into disgust, until hate flowed where love once was. 

Until that dreadful night when everything went to shit.

“It’s just,” you start, and then you fall silent, taking a deep breath. “San is amazing but like…”

You aren’t able to continue. Yet Sydney knows where you were going, and she picks up where you left off. “But you’re afraid things will turn out to be the same as they were with Jungkook?”

You nod even though you both have your eyes closed. “Yeah.” 

“Girl,” Sydney lets out, and you feel her shift next to you. “No one can be like Jungkook. He was a manipulative piece of shit from the beginning.”

Sydney is right - your therapist told you the same thing, explaining Jungkook’s early behaviour as love bombing. Back then, Sydney had even told you that Jungkook was doing too much, but you’d imagined you’d met your prince, and that you were about to have your happily ever after with him.

Until he started pulling away, and you excused his behaviour constantly because you were so in love with him that you couldn’t see the red flags even if they were standing right in front of you.

“But what if San is doing the same thing?” you ask, voicing your fear. “What if I’m just blinded by the way he acts with me?”

“Babe…” 

Before Sydney can speak, the timer on your phone goes off, indicating that it’s time to remove the face mask. So you do, standing up to see that Sydney has already removed hers.

“You didn’t even keep yours,” you scold her.

She just rolls her eyes, and then says, “Babe, San has been doing everything he can to become friends with Yunho too. Even with me. Jungkook did everything he could to cut you off from everyone. That’s not the same thing at all.”

You worry at your bottom lip, then wince as you taste the liquid from the mask that collected there. “I know. I’m just afraid it will be.”

Sydney looks at you with what you can only describe as pity, and you look away, unable to withstand it. 

“It’s okay to be afraid,” she tells you. “The important part is that you don’t let it stop you from experiencing something that can be great.”

Her voice is gentle, and she sounds so much like your mother that you suddenly feel like crying. You blink the wetness away, and then you get up from your bed, throwing the sheet mask in the trash can next to your desk.

“But you know… the people you love are also those that can hurt you the most,” you say. 

Sydney’s gaze widens. “Are you saying…” 

She never finishes the sentence, but you know exactly where it was headed. Which is what scares you the most - how could you fall for San so quickly?

“Well…” you trail off. “I do feel something for him. Everything has been going so fast…”

Sydney stays silent for a moment as if she’s pondering her next words. You just wait for her to talk, wait for her to tell you that you are right for being afraid.

“I think you should talk to him about all of this,” she admits. “He clearly cares about you a lot, and I’m sure he’d listen to you.”

The thought of him caring about you pushes your fear away, though it remains at the back of your mind, just like it has for days now.

“You think he cares about me?”

She throws you a no-bullshit look. “Are you kidding me? Yunho told me the only thing San speaks about is you.”

A shy smile makes its way to your lips as you scrunch up your nose. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” Sydney insists. “Yunho told me that he finds it annoying, even though he loves you.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure Yunho does the same thing about you.”

“Probably,” Sydney says confidently even though red creeps on her cheeks.

You don’t think she’s gotten used to the fact that she is dating your brother yet.

“But anyways,” Sydney lets out. “I really think you should just talk to San. If you want things to work, it’s important to communicate.”

“Didn’t you ignore Yunho for a while?”

The accusation is out before you mean to say it, and you burst out laughing as Sydney's eyes go wide with something akin to betrayal. 

“Asshole.”

“You love me,” you tease. “But I’m right.”

Sydney scowls, though the smile she’s trying to keep in threatens to appear as you wiggle your eyebrows. “You’re annoying. Yes, I ignored him. And you forced me to interact with him until we figured our shit out, and now we’re dating. So…” She shrugs her shoulders. “See this as me telling you to figure your shit out with San so that you can possibly date him.”

To date San… it sounds like an unattainable dream, yet you know Sydney is right.

Only a single conversation might sit between that dream and reality.

Wednesday, October 23rd

You’re anxious. You haven’t felt that way when it comes to Choi San for a while, but you’re anxious as you wait for him at the library for your usual study session. You still have to work on the Illuminati project - the fifteen minute presentation is in December, but you have to make a Powerpoint and a full twenty pages long text about it, so you’ve been working on it every Wednesday.

You have four pages written so far, and you think you might be able to finish a fifth tonight if you focus. Thing is, knowing yourself, your anxiety will come in the way of being able to write anything, so you really hope San will be able to help a lot.

He’s late. It’s the first time he’s ever been late to a study session and that, too, contributes to your anxiety. That, and the fact that you told Sydney you would speak to him tonight, tell him all about Jungkook and why you’re really afraid of getting into a relationship again.

You don’t know how he’ll take it. You lied to him after all, saying that you’ve never dated before, but you doubt it’ll be too much of an issue when he’ll learn why you lied.

If he ever shows up.

You worry at your bottom lip, glancing at the time on your phone. He hasn’t texted you to tell you why he is running late, but you figure it’s just a matter of time before he opens the door with that lopsided smile he reserves just for you, the one he gives you every time he greets you.

It’s usually followed by a kiss on the top of your head, and you just know that that will solve all your anxiety about talking to him. 

A minute passes, and San still doesn’t arrive. You grab your phone, going to your chat with him. The last message was him confirming he’d meet you at the library, and that you could hang out after. You’d just sent a smiling emoji in return, and so you start typing a new message, pressing send as you once more pull on some dry skin on your bottom lip.

[7:39 pm] You: are u going to be here soon?

The message delivers, and you just stare at your phone, waiting to see if he’ll reply. Luckily for you, it doesn’t take long before the three little dots bubble appears, indicating that he’s typing something. It appears and disappears a few times before the message finally reaches your phone, and you can immediately tell that something is wrong.

[7:41 pm] San🏔️: sry. be there in five min

You reread the message, expecting San to send something else, but he never does. So you switch to Instagram, going through reels as if that will lessen the spike in your anxiety. It obviously does not, and you almost count the seconds until the five minutes is up, and San is still not there.

To your relief, he arrives a minute later, his hair dishevelled and his hoodie wet from the rain outside.

“Sorry,” he says as he pushes the door open.

There’s no smile or kiss for you tonight, as San plops in the chair across the table. You just look at him, eyes a little widened, and you watch as he pulls his laptop out of his backpack.

“Did you do anything while waiting for me?” he asks.

He sounds so unlike him that you’re stunned silent, still just staring at him. He looks up from his laptop, cocking an eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” he queries.

“What’s wrong with you?” 

His lips stretch in a thin line and he sighs deeply, his gaze dropping to the table. “I gotta admit I had a shit day. But I do want to get some work done.” He wets his lips, looking at you again. “We can talk about it later?”

You slightly frown as concern fills your heart for him, yet you nod your head. “Sure, we can talk about it when we get to my place after this.”

He offers you a small, sad smile that pulls at your heartstrings painfully and you want to help him right away, but you know you have to respect his boundaries.

If he doesn’t want to talk now, you shouldn’t force him to.

Evidently, your concern for him makes it hard to work, but you do end up being able to write some of the text for the project. It feels like it’s forever before you’re finally calling it quits for the night, and you put your stuff away in silence as San seems busy on his phone. 

He curses under his breath, throwing his phone on the table, and his features turn angry, cold. It’s a little scary considering how warm he usually always is, and you pause with your hand still holding your laptop in your bag, watching him.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

San scoffs, slightly shaking his head. “My fucking dad.”

He’s never talked to you about his father before, only his mom, so you wait in silence, expecting him to say more. But he doesn’t, instead getting up and grabbing his backpack, the scowl still on his features.

You carefully stand up, grabbing your own bag as he waits for you by the door, his jaw clenched tightly. You walk to him, putting a hand on his forearm to find him tensed under your touch.

“Are you okay?” you ask, your voice barely over a whisper.

San takes a sharp inhale of breath, shrugging his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does,” you insist. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

He meets your gaze then, and there is so much sadness in those sweet eyes of his that you feel your heart breaking in your chest, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He stiffens at first, but then he melts in your embrace, burying his face in your neck.

You don’t move for a while, just holding him as close to your heart as you possibly can. There’s something pained about the way he just keeps his face in your neck, his position so defeated you want to hold him forever.

Want to protect him from every atrocity in this world, too.

“Sorry,” he apologizes when he finally manages to lift his head. He meets your gaze, and you notice there’s silver lining his eyes, though he blinks it away quickly. “I really had a shit day, goddamn.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, one of your hands moving to the top of his head so you can rearrange his dishevelled hair. “I’m with you now.”

He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and then he nods. “You are.”

“Ready to go home?”

He bends down, his lips finding yours for a featherlight kiss. You don’t try to deepen it, letting him guide the kiss until he pulls away, nodding again.

“Yeah. Yeah, please.”

You grab his hand, opening the door. You walk out with your hands intertwined, and San follows as you make your way out of the library building to meet the cold world outside.

Though it hasn't been as cold as it was two weeks ago. Indeed, the temperature has gone up a few degrees in the last two days, and the rain isn’t as freezing as you’d expect it to be for this time of the year. It helps that it’s more of a drizzle than actual rain, and that San’s hand is warm in yours despite the sadness lingering in his heart.

You wonder what could have happened with him to make him feel this way. What his dad could have done… 

You don’t think you like his father, not when he makes San feel like this.

“Are you coming to the Halloween party this Friday?” San asks.

He’s asked you before, and you’ve confirmed it to him, so you throw him a look, knowing he’s just trying to lighten the atmosphere as you walk to your apartment. 

“Yeah, of course I am.”

He nods. “Right. I know that. I meant to ask what you’re going as.”

“Oh.” You look ahead, watching a car passing in the street. “I’m going as the queen of hearts.”

Indeed, you’ve bought a red corset for the costume last weekend when you went shopping with Sydney, and you found a gold crown at an obscure Halloween shop yesterday. You’ll pair that with some cards and makeup, along with a black skirt and some black platform boots, and then you’ll be good to pretend being the queen of hearts for the evening.

“You?” you add a moment later, before San replies.

“Mmh, queen of hearts,” he pensively says. “I bet you’ll look amazing.” 

The compliment falls a little flat with his sad voice, but you don’t mention it, instead listening to him as he speaks again.

“I’ll be going as a Peaky Blinder,” he reveals. “Along with Wooyoung and the others.”

“That is such a good idea,” you excitedly say, and it brings a tired smile to his lips. “You’ll be so hot.”

That earns you a chuckle that feels oh so healing, and you grin as you look at him. “We’ll see about that.”

“Have some faith!” you insist. “Look at you, you’ll look so hot pretending to be a gangster.”

He doesn’t reply anything, instead just chuckling again, and you squeeze his hand gently as you pull him just a little closer.

“I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun,” you say.

He nods and this time, his smile is tentative. It shows some of his dimples, and you soften at the sight, feeling the urge to hold him in your arms again. You resist though, knowing it’s better to wait until you’re home before you hug.

“We will,” he says, and he sounds so hopeful you squeeze his hand again.

“We’ll dance, and you’ll drink, and then I can laugh at your drunk ass,” you tease.

His laugh rings truer this time around. “I think I’ll go sober. Just so that you have someone to be with you.”

“That’s boring,” you tell him. “I don’t need you to go sober for me.”

He shrugs. “I feel like it.” And then he pulls you closer, almost making you stumble, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’ll only have a drink when you’re ready to have one too.”

His proximity makes you feel all warm inside, and pink dusts your cheeks. “You really don’t have to wait for me,” you tell him. “I might never feel like drinking again.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then San speaks up. “I’ve always wondered, is there a reason why you stopped drinking?”

Your heart stops in your chest, a sudden sharp pain stabbing at it as your anxiety comes back full force. “Huh.”

San senses your hesitance, and he kisses your temple. It eases the pain, yet the anxiety remains, almost choking you.

“It’s alright, you don’t really have to tell me,” he says. “To be fair, it’s not like you need a reason to not drink. I was just wondering if there was one.”

Your heartbeat skyrockets - he’s opened the door wide for you to take the leap and start telling him about Jungkook, yet the words die in your throat. They die, and what comes out instead is, “There isn’t really any reason, to be honest.”

You hate yourself. You hate yourself, because you’ve been meaning to talk to him since Monday. You’ve been meaning to tell him everything, yet you can’t say a single word about it right now. He’s unaware of your inner turmoil, probably lost in thoughts of his as you finally reach your apartment a few minutes later.

The place is warm, empty, Yunho having gone to Sydney’s place for the evening, which is why you invited San over instead of going to his. You take off your shoes and coat, and then you walk to the kitchen, putting a pot of water on the stove to prepare some ramen for you and San. San follows you yet remains silent, and you throw him a look once the water is on the heat.

He’s looking at the floor, seemingly defeated, and you make your way to him, grabbing his hand.

“Sit,” you tell him, pulling him towards the table. 

He does, and before you can move to sit next to him, he grabs your hips, pulling you closer. He buries his face in your chest, and you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing the top of his head.

“I’m sorry if I was rude earlier,” he mumbles against your chest.

You pout, patting his back. “It’s okay, San. You’re allowed to not always be happy.”

“But you didn’t deserve it.”

You peck the top of his head again. “Thank you for apologizing.”

He sighs, his grip around you tightening. “My dad is an asshole.”

You pull away, meeting his gaze, though his eyes are quick to drop to the ground as he lets you go. You sit next to him, pulling your chair closer so that you can hold his hand as he keeps talking.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you about him,” he admits. “I feel like you can’t really understand me without knowing about him?” He wets his lips, sighing deeply. “My dad cheated on my mother. Had the whole double life kinda thing. I found out when I was thirteen because he bought a PS4, and then it just disappeared from the house.” His jaw clenches once, a muscle feathering under his skin. “He gave it to his other son.”

You don’t know what to say. You feel like someone has just dunked icy water on you, and your whole body freezes as your heart clenches in your chest.

“I told my mom, and she confronted him. He was working half of the month in some other city? Turns out he wasn’t. He was just spending those weeks with his other family.”

“San…”

He scoffs. “That’s not even the worst part. He got married to that other woman while he was still with my mom, telling her that they didn’t need to get married. He’s a fucking asshole.”

“I’m so sorry…”

That's all that you can think to say. You don’t know what words could convey how horrified you are for him, how much your heart is shattering in your chest. You can’t even imagine what that must have been like, to be thirteen and find out that your father was lying to you and your mother your whole life. Like a nightmare come true, San’s childhood must have been ruined by the experience.

“He entirely stopped helping me and my mother when we found out, and just stayed with his other family.”

The betrayal he must have felt… you can’t even begin to imagine it.

“So yeah, he’s an asshole.”

There’s a moment of silence during which you realize the water is boiling on the stove, and you squeeze San’s hand, getting up to put the ramen in the pot. “What happened today?”

San’s scowl is not directed at you, yet it hurts to see it distorting his usual soft features. “He came back in the picture three years ago, insisting that I should go to his birthday parties because he wanted to reconnect. I’ve never been, but it doesn’t stop him from giving me shit for not pulling up.”

“Wow…” you trail off as you sit back next to San. “I’m so sorry you had to live through that.”

He scoffs. “It’s horrible. I fucking hate cheaters.”

You feel sick. You feel sick to your stomach, and you can’t hold his gaze when he looks your way. 

“I actually told myself I’d never date anyone,” he admits, his voice losing the jagged edge it’s been carrying since he started talking to you about his father. “But then I met you… and I’m fucking afraid you’ll hurt me, but you just… you make me feel safe.”

You want to cry. You want to cry and scream and go back in time and undo everything that’s ever happened to San. He doesn’t deserve any of this, doesn’t deserve to be afraid you’ll hurt him.

Though, you’ve been afraid he’ll hurt you, too.

“I don’t plan on hurting you,” you say with a small voice as thoughts of Jungkook fill your head. “I really don’t.”

You feel like you should tell him now. That you should explain everything that happened between you and Jeon Jungkook three years ago, but the alarm on your phone tells you that the ramen is ready, and then you find you can’t talk.

You can’t say anything. If you were afraid to talk to San, it’s even worse now that he’s shared his past with you.

You separate the ramen in two bowls before sitting next to San again. He’s been looking at you, his eyes shiny, and he leans towards you. You meet him halfway. You meet him halfway like you wish your mind could do too, kissing him softly. The kiss hurts deeply, yet when San tilts his head to the side to deepen it, you feel the pain fading away, replaced by him.

Replaced by all the emotions you feel for him.

“Thank you,” he whispers when he pulls away. “Thank you for not making a big deal out of this.”

If only he knew the thoughts haunting your head…

“Of course, San,” you reply softly. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

He presses another kiss to your lips, and then he fully pulls away, sitting back in his spot. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders going up and down with it, and then he picks up his chopsticks.

“Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

You nod, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you focus on your bowl, and on the steam wafting from it. You don’t feel too hungry anymore, lead having settled in your stomach, yet you force yourself to eat the entire bowl, if only so that you can have a reason to not be talking right now.

“Can I take a shower?” San asks when you’re done eating, and he’s washed the bowls in the sink, putting them to dry on the drying rack.

“Of course,” you say, offering him a small smile you hope he can’t tell is anxious.

He walks towards you, bending down to peck your forehead. “Join me?”

If only he knew…

“You really can’t resist, huh?” you tease.

Your voice does fall flat, but San ignores it, grabbing your hand and pulling you up to your feet. He kisses you deep and languid - it’s so out of nowhere that you almost stumble back, but his large hand finds the small of your back and holds you in place, keeping you close to him.

You’ll talk to him. You’ll tell him everything, but you need time to prepare. Hell, you might even need to talk to your therapist from back then to ask her how to tell him.

How to explain everything in a way that makes him understand you. Because you can’t lose him. You don’t want to, not when the emotions growing between the two of you promises to bloom in flowers of love one day.

You see the potential. You feel it in your chest as he kisses you, as he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours after. You feel it in the words unsaid as you both catch your breath, and in the way he holds you.

In the way he washes your back in the shower, too. In the way he tucks you in the blanket as you lie in bed after, facing each other. It’s written in his gaze, in the softness of his features, and you’ll be damned if you ever let him go.

“Your bed is so comfortable,” San says with a sigh, his eyes fluttering shut.

You smile, letting your anxiety dissolve away. You’ll be okay. You and Choi San will be okay - you have to.

“Why do you think I’d rather watch Netflix on my laptop in my bed,” you say.

He chuckles, meeting your gaze. “You didn’t even bring your laptop.”

You prop yourself up on an elbow, looking towards your school bag near your desk. “I mean… it isn’t too far.” 

You make to get up, but San wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace. You let him do it, happy to be cuddled to his chest a second later, and you sigh, nuzzling your face on his soft skin.

“You know what?” you mumble. “Let’s just stay here.”

He chuckles, and it reverberates deep in his chest. And you’re happy he’s laughing now. Happy his smiles have been more frequent since he confided in you, happy to know the heaviness has lifted from his shoulders. He’s much more like your usual San, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Let’s,” he agrees. “Though I might fall asleep. You’re so warm.”

“So are you.” You turn on your back, meeting his gaze. “You’re like a heater in here.”

He smiles, his dimples stealing your breath away. “Are you saying I’m hot?”

It makes you roll your eyes, but his laugh makes you giggle too, and then his lips are suddenly on yours, soft as ever.

You sigh, kissing him back, your heartbeat starting to race in your chest. His lips move slowly at first, almost as if he’s hesitant, but then the rhythm naturally increases, and San climbs on top of you. You spread your legs to make room for him, right as he lightly bites at your lower lip, sucking on it.

“What are you doing?” you ask when he pulls away, hiding his face in your neck. 

His teeth tease the skin under your ear, and your lips part on a silent moan as he talks, “What does it look like I’m doing here?”

You hum, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. “I don’t know?”

He chuckles, but then he’s kissing you again. He’s kissing you again and it’s all light and feathers and the first snowfall in the streetlights. It’s the first ray of the sun, when the day has barely just begun. The first spark of fire, the first drop of rain.

It’s the first of everything and nothing, and it is all consuming, in the same slow, gentle way that water laps at the rocks, shaping them for centuries to come. San shapes you with the swipe of his tongue on yours, with his hands caressing your skin and, a few minutes later, with his hips rocking against yours. 

He shapes you with every breathless pleas he whispers in your ear as he makes love to you, slowly fucking you like there is no tomorrow. Like there is just now, and you’ll exist in this moment forever.

You would. You would live in this moment until you turn into stardust, until ashes are all that’s left of you. You’d live in this moment, over and over again until your last breath, if only for the love that San breathes into you as he slowly moves back and forth, soft grunts falling from his lips. Your hands are on his back, holding him close, and his forehead rests against yours.

You breathe the same air as he makes love to you, and you really wish time will stop.

Really wish you’ll live in this moment outside of time for the rest of your life.

San stops moving, and he grabs one of your hands in his back to bring it over your head, entwining your fingers. He whispers your name with so much devotion you want to cry, and then he says, “I’m falling in love with you. So, so much.”

His words take you in their embrace, carrying you closer to your high when he starts moving again. It’s a high born of love, of powerful emotions. It hits you when you’re trying to say you’re falling for him too, silencing you, and then you just kiss him as he too climaxes, his motions sloppy.

“San,” you breathe out when your heartbeat finally starts slowing down too.

He remains silent, unmoving, and your eyes flutter open to see his eyelids are still tightly sealed, as if he’s in pain.

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

He takes a deep breath, and then he rolls on the bed next to you. Something feels off, and you immediately turn on your side, laying your hand on his chest.

“No,” he says.

You feel the lie. It tastes bitter on your tongue, and you move closer, wrapping your arm around his waist. You peck his shoulder, and then lean your head against him, your chin on his shoulder.

“I’m falling for you too, San,” you whisper in his ear. 

You feel him relax next to you - was he afraid you were about to reject him?

“Ever since we started working on the project…” you trail off. “I’m really starting to fall in love with you.” You take a deep, shuddering breath in, preparing yourself into baring your soul to him. “I didn’t think I could fall in love, but here we are.”

It’s all you can say. The rest dies in your throat when San turns, pecking your forehead as his arm snakes to your back, and he pulls you even closer to him.

“Good,” he says, and then he lets out a small vulnerable chuckle. “That’s really fucking good.”

You giggle. “What?”

“I can’t lose you, you know that?”

You know far too well, because you too can’t afford to lose him either. So you hold him tight for the rest of the evening, refusing to let go.

You can only hope that it’ll keep him close forever, too.

Friday, October 25th

The party is loud. Whoever is in charge of the music most likely does not care for people’s eardrums, because the music is so loud you think your ears might bleed by the end of the evening. 

Most people don’t seem to care. They’re drunk, swaying to the beat as they try to converse but end up screaming into each other’s ears. You feel overstimulated as you make your way through the crowd, hand in hand with an even more overstimulated Sydney. You’re trying to pull her towards the stairs - San texted you to tell you that they moved there because the music isn’t as loud and they can play drinking games - but there are so many people you don’t even know if you’ll make it.

Hell, you even think you might get lost on the way.

Against all odds, you eventually emerge from the crowd near the small hallway that leads to a bathroom and to the stairs to the basement, and you breathe out a sigh of relief, tugging Sydney down the stairs.

San was right - the music is much less irritating down here, and the crowd is much more sparse, allowing you to see Yeosang and Jongho’s girlfriend near the wall to your left. You head towards them, and you soon catch sight of San and Wooyoung, their backs turned to you as they talk to Jongho.

Turns out that San meant only the four of them when he said that they were going as the Peaky Blinders. Indeed, you’d assumed Yunho, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were also going to be in on the costume, but Yunho chose to dress up as Spiderman while Seonghwa and Hongjoong decided to go as pirates.

Yeosang notices you, waving at you with a smile as Lyla takes a sip of her drink, her eyes lighting up at your sight. You easily thread your way through the crowd, and San turns your way before you stop next to him, as if he senses his presence.

He looks handsome, standing there in a black suit. The beret on his head would have looked silly outside of a Halloween party, yet it makes sense here, as does the fake black pistol on his hip. He grins at you, his eyes warm, and he opens his arms for you as you finally reach his side.

You walk into his embrace, looking up to him as your arms wrap around his waist. He’s still grinning, the dimples on his cheeks in full sight, and he dives down for a quick kiss before pulling away.

“Hey, you,” he whispers.

Your heart flutters in your chest. “Hey.”

You’ll talk to him tomorrow. You’ve prepared the whole thing, even started writing down how you want to say things to him in your note app yesterday evening. You owe it to him, especially after Wednesday night.

Something has shifted between the two of you since then. Be it the confessions or the love making, but something has shifted - you just need to tell him all about your past before making things official.

If things go well, you’ll be able to call Choi San your boyfriend tomorrow, and you don’t think there exists a more beautiful word in the English dictionary when it comes to him.

“You are gorgeous,” he compliments you, and then he takes a step back, motioning for you to do a twirl. You do so, laughing as he pulls you right back into his embrace. “Yes, my girl is so fucking gorgeous.”

The possessiveness in his words does something to you that you can’t describe, and you bite at your lower lip.

“Your girl?”

He winks at you. “Whenever you’re ready, yes.”

You can’t help the bright smile on your lips that follows his words. Because, even though your anxiety threatens to eat you alive, you have so much hope when it comes to him that you doubt anything could ruin it.

Not even your past. After all, like your mother said on the phone last night when you called for advice, the past is in the past, and the only way is forward. And you want to move forward with San, want to experience what Yunho and Sydney are also experiencing.

You want love, and more than that, you want San’s love.

“Mmh, soon,” you reply, cheeks dusting with pink, and San bends down to kiss you again, this time with a little more conviction.

“Damn, get a room,” Wooyoung says next to you, and you pull away from the kiss to punch him on the shoulder. 

He bursts out laughing, rubbing the spot you punched as he winks at you, and you roll your eyes. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have anyone to hook up with.”

A chorus of ‘oooh’s erupts in your group, and you smirk, proud of your comeback. Wooyoung takes everyone by surprise when he shrugs his shoulders, glancing towards the stairs.

“I’ll have you know that I actually have a date here tonight, soooo.”

Your gaze widens at the same time as San says, “You didn’t tell me.”

“Sometimes, it’s good to have a little secret,” Wooyoung says with a wise smile, and San just pushes him. 

You let them fight like they always do, turning to Sydney. She’s texting on her phone, most likely letting Yunho know where you currently are in case he wants to join, and then she raises her head, meeting your gaze.

“Ready to party?”

You smile wickedly, not expecting that from Sydney. “Oh, I was born ready.”

You were, if one can be born ready to party without drinking alcohol. You manage to do so, having fun with Sydney and the rest of the group, and even more so when Yunho and Seonghwa eventually join. For the first time in your life, you feel like you’re part of a group, of something bigger than just you and Sydney, and it’s a feeling you want to get accustomed to.

You’ve never had a big friend group, but the joy of it is addictive in the sweetest ways, after all.

“Having fun?” San asks a little while later.

He wraps his arms around your middle from behind, kissing the top of your head. You lean back into him, patting his hand as a smile grows on your lips. “More than I thought I would,” you admit.

Indeed, you’d imagined you’d be anxious at the perspective of having to tell him everything tomorrow, but you only feel hope.

You only feel like you might start flying once the truth is finally out. 

San brushes your hair over your shoulder, his head dipping to your neck. “I know I said it before,” he whispers in your ear, “but you look fucking amazing.”

His lips tease your skin, and a shiver runs down your spine, leaving goosebumps on your arms. “So do you,” you whisper back.

He nips at your skin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to wait until we get to my place.” He kisses your neck, and his hands drop to your hips, pulling you even closer.

You’re not surprised to feel his dick rubbing against you, even though he’s not quite hard yet.

“We’re in public,” you remind him, and your eyes flutter shut as he bites at your earlobe.

“And?”

You whine, opening your eyes to make sure that no one is looking at you. Luckily enough, everyone is too busy with the game of stack the cup that’s unfolding right now - one you and San chose not to participate in since you’re not drinking - and no one notices the way he makes you grind on him.

“Stop,” you warn, though you keep moving, especially as you feel his dick hardening already.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, and his hands move up to your waist. “I’ll stop.”

But then he’s making you turn around, and his lips are quick to catch yours. It’s languid, a little wet, and you know you’re already dripping from the burning heat that grows in your lower stomach.

Only San has ever had that effect on you.

“Bathroom?” you suggest when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours.

He chuckles. “I thought you didn’t like doing things in public.”

“But you always get me so horny…”

He grunts in your mouth as you kiss him again and then bite down on his lower lip. His hands find your hips once more, slightly digging in the supple skin there as he holds you tight, and then he pulls away, his breath ragged.

“Bathroom?”

You glance at the table where people are playing, catching Yeosang looking your way. He’s quick to look away, and though you think you should be embarrassed, you answer, “Bathroom.”

It doesn’t take you long for the two of you to climb the stairs back to where you saw the bathroom to be earlier. San opens the door for you, and you walk in, ready to jump on him the second he closes the door. He’s quicker than you though and he spins you around, pinning you against the door as his mouth crashes on yours so hard your teeth clash. It hurts, but he’s already kissing you languidly, his tongue teasing yours, and you can’t concentrate, can’t think anything other than how much you want him.

The music is loud, though slightly muffled from the closed door, and you can only hope it muffles the light moan you let out when San disconnects from your lips to find your neck, sucking a hickey into your skin. You lose your hand in his hair, slightly tugging at the strands, and then he’s moving back up, lips meeting yours for another kiss that leaves your mind spinning.

“San,” you breathe out when he pulls away, your gazes connecting for an intimate embrace.

“Can I finger you?” he asks, his hand already going down to the hem of your skirt.

“Fuck.” You lean your head against the door as his fingers trail up your inner thigh, his thumb brushing on your clothed heat. “I kind of want you to fuck me.”

He chuckles. “I’ll fuck you tonight, baby,” he says with a low, husky voice as he pushes your panties aside. One of his fingers trace your hole, moving to your clit to rub on it as he adds, “I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to leave my bed tomorrow.”

You’re soaked. The way his finger slips right in when he goes back to your entrance tells you you’re soaked through, and your mouth falls open on a small moan as his finger arches brushing on your g-spot.

“But I can finger you here, mmh?” he adds, pulling his finger out before pushing it back in. It squelches, and you hold onto his shoulders as he does it again, harder this time. “Fuck, you’re dripping wet, baby.”

“I know,” you whine as he continues the slow push and pull of his finger, never accelerating. 

You doubt your legs will hold you up for much longer. Indeed, the second his thumb rubs on your clit, your knees go weak, and if he wasn’t holding your waist with his free hand, you’re pretty sure you would have fallen to the floor.

“So, so wet,” he praises. “And so pretty too.”

He pulls his finger out of you, bringing it up between your faces. He looks at your wetness, at your juices coating his digit, and then he takes it in his mouth, cleaning it.

“Now, let’s make you come, shall we?” he says with a wink.

You nod, and his hand goes back between your legs, his finger finding your hole in half a heartbeat. Another half a heartbeat later and he’s buried it in you almost to the knuckle, and you cry out as he kisses at the spot that connects your shoulder and your neck.

That’s when he truly gets to work, fucking you with his finger quicker. Your back arches off the door, and his hand shifts to the small of your back to hold you up as he keeps fingering you like that, and you muffle your moans by pressing the side of your fist on your mouth.

The squelching sounds your pussy makes are loud in the bathroom, and it’s like the music is distant, elsewhere as San praises you gently.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he says. “Do you want me to put another finger in?”

You nod, entirely unable to speak, and your legs give out under you when he finally does so, the friction on your walls too much for you to stand anymore.

It doesn’t matter - San picks you up, sitting you on the counter, and then he’s back between your legs, fingers moving so fast you have to hold on to his forearm. He kisses you deep, his soft lips devouring you, and your high nears as his thumb once more rubs on your clit, hard enough for you to see stars.

“Gentler,” you choke out.

He nods, the pressure on your clit lessening to a more comfortable one, and the knot forming in your lower stomach slowly tightens, even more so as your walls instinctively clench on his hand.

“You can do it, baby,” San praises you. “Come all over my fingers.”

You don’t need more than that to fall off the edge, and your thighs instinctively close around his forearm as you come, the waves of your climax crashing into you one after the other. San fingers you through it all, slowing the rhythm to make sure it remains comfortable, and soon the high recedes, leaving you panting for your life as you lean against the mirror.

San’s fingers leave you empty, and he puts your panties back in place as your eyes flutter open - when did they close? - to meet his prideful smile right as he licks his fingers clean. 

“Felt good?” he asks.

You nod. “Holy shit.” You straighten, struggling to do so from how weak you feel from the orgasm. “How can you always be so good?”

He shrugs his shoulders as if it’s nothing, and then he turns towards the sink, washing his hands. “I’m just observant.”

He clearly is, because no one has ever made you come so good as him before.

“You’re so hard,” you say as your eyes drop to the tent in his pants. 

He looks down at himself, letting out a small laugh. “Yeah.”

“Can I suck you?”

He clenches his jaw, cursing under his breath as he dries his hands on a hand towel. “Unfortunately, I think we’ll get killed if we hold up the bathroom any longer,” he says, and it’s only then that you hear someone banging on the door.

You flush deep crimson as you force yourself to stand, and San is quick to make sure you’re able to stand, his hands finding your waist to steady you.

“Oh my God,” you let out. “That’s…”

Embarrassing is the word you wanted to say, yet San kisses you softly, interrupting your sentence. You don’t mind it - you’d kiss him for hours if you could, and so you melt against him, hands resting flat on his chest.

“Oof,” San says when he pulls away, taking a deep breath. “We gotta stop kissing because I can’t go out like this.”

You both look down at his still visible erection, and you laugh, tapping his chest.

“Better think about something disgusting, Choi San.”

He chuckles, shutting his eyes as he breathes deeply for a couple of seconds, and then the banging on the door resumes, startling him.

“Just a minute!” San yells out, and you burst out laughing as he goes back to the sink, turning the cold water on to splash some in his face.

He repeats the motion a couple of times, and then he straightens, water droplets covering his skin. He grabs the hand towel, and you wince as he dries his face with it.

“This has to be bad for your skin,” you say as he emerges from behind the towel, putting it back in its spot.

“Why?”

“The amount of people that have touched this without it being washed…” you trail off as he winces.

“Right.”

He tosses the towel on the counter, taking a look at himself in the mirror. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to rearrange it, and then he takes a deep breath, turning towards you.

“Let’s get out of here before they break through the door.”

You snort, and you grab San’s hand as you open the door to the sight of a red-faced guy. He looks between you and San, laughing awkwardly.

“Nice.”

You cock an eyebrow, and then the guy walks past the two of you, slamming the door shut behind him.

“What a gentleman,” you deadpan.

San chuckles, and then he pulls you into a hug, pecking your forehead. “He probably almost pissed himself, give him a break.”

That makes you laugh, and you tilt your head back to look at San. The moment your gazes connect you feel like you step into an alternate universe of just you and him, and you smile softly, the softness in his eyes enough to make you want to stay here with him until the end of time.

“Hey, you,” he whispers.

You tiptoe, bridging the gap between your mouths, and you press a featherlight kiss on his lips. He answers with heat, taking you by surprise as his large hand finds your back, arching you into the kiss. He smiles against your mouth, a devilish smirk that just makes you want to rush to his apartment and spend the night tangling in bed with him, but you did come here to enjoy the party a little too.

So you pull away from the kiss, your cheeks heated, and you meet San’s gaze.

“M’kay, I’m going to go find Syd,” you tell him. “So that we play that beer pong game.” Indeed, before your friends started to play stack the cup, Sydney begged you to play beer pong with her. “And then I’ll be free to go whenever you want to.”

“You’re going to have to be patient,” San teases, and he pecks your forehead before stepping away, winking at you. “I’ll find you later.”

You nod, waving him goodbye as he leaves through the crowd in the living room, even though you’re disappointed that he’s not coming with you. It’s easy to know why - Wooyoung disappeared earlier to go find that date he claims he invited here, and you’ve all been curious to know who it is.

Especially San, considering that Wooyoung is his best friend and he also did not tell him who he invited. 

You take a deep breath as San disappears in the crowd, and then you head down the stairs, knowing Sydney is going to be there. You indeed find her near one of the beer pong tables along with Yunho and Seonghwa, and her gaze widens when she sees you walking towards her.

You know something bad has happened when you see the look on her face. The stars in the universe must have dealigned, the Earth spun off its axis, because even before Sydney speaks, dread settles deep in your stomach, tasting awfully like bile.

“Don’t panic,” she says, grabbing your wrists and pulling you closer to her. “But Jungkook is here.”

Your throat goes dry, your heart stops beating in your chest, and it feels like liquid has been dunked in your lungs, preventing you from breathing. “What?”

“Remember the guy that Wooyoung said he’s been hooking up with?” Sydney adds. All you can do is blink once in answer, and so she continues, “It’s Jimin. Fucking Park Jimin. And you know Jungkook and Jimin go everywhere together.”

“That can’t…” you trail off as the sound around you fades away, replaced by a flat line almost loud enough to burst your eardrums. “That can’t be true.”

Sydney pulls you even closer, awkwardly hugging you. “I saw him.” She tightens her hold around you. “I’m sorry.”

It’s like the last three years have disappeared. It’s like you’re once again sitting on the floor, watching Yunho burst into the room and slamming his fist on the side of Jungkook’s face. The terror once again invades your stomach, and you think you can even taste blood on your tongue.

“We can leave if you want,” Sydney says, and her words snap you back to reality.

“What the fuck?” you let out.

“I know,” she whispers, glancing at her boyfriend. “Seonghwa had to drag Yunho down here. He was about to fight Jungkook again.”

Your gaze trails to your brother, who looks infinitely tense next to you.

“What the fuck?” is all you can repeat.

“Do you want to go home?”

It takes a moment for your thoughts to go to San, who’s somewhere up there. In the same room as Jeon Jungkook, the man you thought you’d never see again. The one you wished you’d never see again, if only so that you wouldn’t relive all the trauma of your relationship.

“I’m not going up there,” you say, and you take a shuddering breath in. “Let’s stay here.”

Sydney meets your gaze, holding it for long enough that you feel awkward, but you know it’s her way of making sure that this is what you truly want. And though what you truly want is to already be in San’s bed, lost in his embrace, being here with your best friend and your brother will have to do for now.

But you’re distracted. You’re far too distracted, missing all the shots you shoot in beer pong while Seonghwa clearly seems to be worried about you, and about Sydney and your brother. The three of you are just tense, barely even talking, so you don’t blame him for being concerned.

He doesn’t know anything about Jeon Jungkook after all, as Yunho met him in college. All he knows is that your brother was ready to beat Jungkook earlier.

To you, it doesn’t make sense that Jungkook is here. He doesn’t even study in this city, though you know he’s studying not too far from here. You’re confused as to how Wooyoung met Jimin, and what pushed Wooyoung to invite Jimin here. You want to be mad at him, to blame him for this dip in the past but Wooyoung, much like everyone you know from college, has no idea what happened that August night.

Has no idea about the relationship that led to that August night, too.

“Gosh, I suck,” you flatly say as you once again miss a throw.

“For real, we can go home,” Sydney says with a gentle voice.

You take a deep breath. “I’m going to San’s.”

She nods, her lips stretched in a thin line. “Maybe you can tell him you want to go?”

You could. You’re sure he’d understand, but you do want to let him enjoy his evening a bit. Especially before you tell him everything tomorrow - you don’t want to steal him away from some much deserved fun with his friends.

It’s ironic, how Jungkook came back into your life the moment you decided to tell San about him. It’s like the world’s taunting you, the universe is playing with you, and you don’t know what to make of it.

All you know is that you can’t let Jungkook win. Can’t let Jungkook make you uncomfortable again.

He doesn’t deserve to have any power over you anymore.

“Not right now,” you say, offering Sydney a tight-lipped smile. “Let’s stay here for like another hour and then we leave.”

Sydney holds your gaze, taking a deep breath, and then she nods. You resume the beer pong game, and you somehow manage to score twice in a row, which is a good distraction from the man you know is upstairs. It’s good enough that you even find yourself loosening a little, though you keep stealing glances at the stairs, afraid he’ll show up.

He doesn’t - San doesn’t either, and time slowly passes until you text San, asking if he’s ready to leave soon.

Your message delivers, but San must be busy because, ten minutes later, he still hasn’t answered. It’s uncommon when it comes to him, as he always usually replies fast, but this is a party after all.

You can’t expect him to look at his cellphone every minute when you’re at a party. So you distract yourself with your brother, Seonghwa and Sydney, though it is soon just you and Seonghwa as Sydney and Yunho make out, both of them starting to be decently drunk.

Drunk enough for Sydney to forget her manners, as she’s usually like you and hates PDA.

“How’s your semester?” Seonghwa asks as you both sit on an extremity of a worn-out couch, Sydney and Yunho occupying the other.

“It hasn’t been too bad,” you reply as you steal a glance at your phone to see the screen is still empty of notifications. “I honestly thought it would be worse, but midterms went well. You?”

Seonghwa shrugs. “It’s fine. Sucks, but what’s new?”

That earns a small chuckle from you. “At least half of the semester is done. Any plans for the holidays?”

“Might go visit my family,” he says. “But it’s far and I don’t know if I feel like it. Depends if Hongjoong is going back, too.”

Right. Hongjoong and Seonghwa - and San, obviously - went to the same high school.

“It’s always better to go back with people,” you agree. 

The conversation naturally dies there, and you just sit in silence, both of you scrolling through your phone. San still hasn’t replied, so you go back to the conversation with him, rereading the text you sent him.

[11:46 pm] You: u ready to go soon?

You worry at your bottom lip, starting to type a new message. That’s when you notice the three dots appearing, and you wait, watching them appear and disappear for what seems like an eternity before they fully disappear.

You frown - it’s unlike San not to reply to you - and you type another message that you send a few heartbeats later.

[00:05 am] You: is everything okay?

You stay in the conversation for five minutes, dread slowly sinking into your chest. Because the dots appear again, and still San does not reply. Something must have happened - are you going to have to go upstairs to find him?

“Syd?” you let out. 

She does not reply, too busy exploring your brother’s mouth. You usually wouldn’t care but, right now, it pisses you off enough that you punch her in the shoulder. She yelps, pulling away from him to send you an affronted look.

“Can you guys stop?” you ask.

Your tone is sharp, angry, and her gaze widens. “What’s wrong?”

Of course she’d know that something is wrong.

“San is not replying,” you say, worrying at your bottom lip. “Do you mind helping me look for him?”

Do you mind helping me to see my ex again?

The questions remain unsaid, yet Sydney reads it in your eyes, nodding her head once. “I might be a tad drunk, but yeah, of course I’ll help.”

She gets up, swaying on her feet, and you follow her, your heartbeat accelerating in your chest as adrenaline fills your blood.

You oh so wish you’d still drink just for the liquid courage that it would give you.

“You stay here,” you sternly tell your brother as he makes to follow you.

He frowns. “Why?”

“I don’t want you causing a scene.”

He rolls his eyes, folding his arms on his chest. “M’kay.”

You wait a few seconds to make sure that he will indeed not follow and, when you’re sure of it, you hook your arm with Sydney’s to head towards the stairs. Before climbing them, you glance at your brother, relieved to see he hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

“Do you have any clue where he could be?” Sydney asks as you start going up.

“Last time I saw him, he was going to the living room.”

“About that,” Sydney says, sucking her teeth. “Where did you guys disappear to?”

You flush red as flashes of the bathroom come back to your mind. “Huh, nowhere.”

Sydney snorts. “Sounds convincing.”

When you remain silent, Sydney lets it go, and then you’re reaching the top of the stairs and the loud music once more engulfs you. Luckily enough, the volume has been turned down slightly since earlier, and some of the crowd has dispersed enough for you to be able to go through without too much of a problem.

You don’t see San anywhere, and neither can you see Jungkook, so you head to the kitchen, only to come face to face with none other than Park Jimin, a visibly drunk Wooyoung next to him.

Jimin’s gaze widens as he blanches, and bile climbs in your throat, burning enough for your eyes to start watering the second you see a familiar pair of doe eyes behind him.

Jungkook has changed. A lot more than you expected he would - he’s sporting an eyebrow piercing and a lip piercing now, and you can see dark ink on his right arm disappearing in the sleeve of his oversized t-shirt. He seems surprised to see you, up until a small, smug smirk appears on his lips.

The condescending one that gave you nightmares for months after that August night.

“Long time no see,” he shoots your way.

You’re frozen like a deer in headlights. Stiffened like water turned to ice, and Sydney tenses next to you.

“Do you know where San is?” she asks Wooyoung.

Wooyoung seems incredibly uncomfortable for a moment, and he glances at Jimin. Jimin looks like he wants to disappear through the ground - you’d used to get along with him well, until you removed yourself from Jungkook’s life entirely.

“He went home,” Wooyoung replies.

It hurts. It hurts like a stab to the chest would. Like the floor had that August night and you really think you might throw up.

“Okay, thank you,” Sydney says, and then she’s pulling you away from Jimin and Wooyoung, away from Jeon Jungkook.

“You’re not even going to fucking say hi?” Jungkook shouts behind you.

You’re crying. You don’t even know when you started crying, but your vision is blurry, and the shuddering breath that you take in burns all the way down to your lungs.

“We’re leaving,” Sydney declares, suddenly sounding fully sober. “Let’s go grab our jackets, I’ll text Yunho.”

You’re unable to reply. It’s like Jungkook’s words are echoing in your head, so loud you can’t even formulate a coherent thought. All that’s left is terror slowly seeping in your bloodstream, invading your entire body until your vision slowly starts to turn black.

Sydney pulls you in the room where you left your coats, grabbing your shoulders as she turns to face you. “Breathe.”

You can’t. You can’t fucking breathe, not when Jungkook is here, not when the sight of him was enough to send you down this spiral again.

Not when San left without even telling you.

“Deep breath,” Sydney repeats. “What’s your favourite colour?”

Tears roll down your cheeks, yet you blink, trying to focus on Sydney. “Huh?”

“What’s the colour of the sky?”

You frown. “That’s not what you asked.”

“I know. Deep breath, bubs.”

You’re confused, yet you do as she asks, taking as deep of a breath as you can. It still hurts, but you feel steadier on your feet as the panic slowly recedes.

“Holy shit,” you curse. “I see him one time and…” you trail off as your eyes fill with tears again.

“Shh,” Sydney lets out. “We’re not thinking about that right now.”

You nod once, awkwardly drying your tears with the back of your hands. Sydney quickly texts Yunho, and then she helps you find your coat, though you stumble upon hers first. By the time you finally find your coat, Yunho appears, his face flushed red with anger.

“I swear to God I’ll kill that guy one day,” he growls. He reaches for his coat, which luckily was on top of the pile on the bed. “I fucking will kill him.”

“I’ll help,” Sydney says.

You remain silent, letting the couple pull you outside of the house once you’re all clad in your coats. You keep your eyes down on the way out, refusing to even catch sight of Jungkook again. It feels like forever, but you eventually step outside, the gentle breeze catching in the lapels of your unzipped coat as Sydney tugs you a couple of houses down the street while Yunho orders an Uber.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you quickly grab it, only for it to blur beyond recognition as you see that San is the one that texted you.

Sydney pulls you into a tight hug, patting your back as you cry on her shoulder. The tears seem unending - you’re still crying in the Uber ride home - and your heart aches in your chest in a way it hasn’t ached for a long time.

Because San’s text holds finality. His text holds your heart - or maybe it dropped the precious organ. Indeed, when you’re rereading it later that night when you should be asleep, you feel like you’re stepping on the shards of a broken heart.

[2:21 am] San🏔️: went home. just go home with ur brother

Prev | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

i am infinitely sorry for the angst, and there is a lot more coming your way oop. if you need to talk, please reach out <3

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2025. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[kathlare]

make them bond

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Lando navigate a tricky reunion with old friends while trying to leave recent drama behind.

Wordcount: 6.5 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

May 12th, 2025 - Los Cabos, Mexico

The water was warm, the kind of perfect that made you forget the world outside the pool even existed. Amelie floated lazily on a pink donut float, sunglasses on, legs dangling in the water. Lando stood beside her, half-submerged, arms crossed on the float’s edge, watching her with a shit-eating grin that gave away exactly how smitten he was.

—You’re staring again,— she said without looking at him, lips twitching.

—Can you blame me?— he replied, voice low and teasing, fingertips dragging lightly along her thigh. —You look stupidly good in that bikini, Ames. I’m just admiring the view.—

—You’re such a simp,— she laughed, nudging his chest with her foot. —And this is your third time complimenting my bikini. I’m counting now.—

—And yet, I’m still under-doing it. You deserve ten more. Maybe twenty.—

She finally looked at him, raising her sunglasses. —You’re so whipped.—

—Only for you.— He winked. —Actually, that’s not true. Benny’s got me wrapped around his paw too. And your cooking. And the way your nose scrunches when you’re annoyed. And the way you say "fuck off" with that cute accent.—

—You’re disgusting,— she said with a grin, even as her heart melted. —I hate you.—

—You love me.—

She opened her mouth to retort when she heard the sound of a car rolling up the driveway. Her whole body stiffened, the air suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter. Lando followed her gaze.

—That’s them?— he asked quietly.

She nodded. The float squeaked under her as she sat up straighter, adjusting her bikini top unnecessarily.

—Yup. That’s them.—

Lando gave her knee a reassuring squeeze. —We’ve got this, babe. It’ll be fine. Awkward, but fine.—

They watched as Max Fewtrell stepped out of the car first, his usual lazy grin slightly strained. He opened the door for Pietra, who followed in oversized sunglasses, denim shorts, and a very neutral expression.

Amelie took a breath. She hadn’t seen Pietra since Miami. Not properly. And while none of the rumors were their fault, it was still… weird. Max had gone to Comporta with Magui and Pietra and some other people, and that had stirred shit online. Shit she hadn’t been prepared for, especially not when it came to rumors of Lando cheating—especially not with Magui of all people.

She pulled herself out of the pool, wrapping a towel around her waist and squeezing water from her braid. Lando joined her, brushing droplets off his chest with a shake like a golden retriever.

—Max! Pietra!— he called out with a smile that was just a little too bright.

Max offered a small wave as they approached the edge of the patio.

—Hey, mate. Nice tan.—

—Jealous?— Lando smirked.

—Absolutely. Brazil's been rainy as fuck.—

Amelie offered Max a quick side-hug, which was awkward, for them at least. They’d been close once—really close. Max had been her video game partner during lockdown, the one who’d tease her endlessly on Discord and send her memes at 2 a.m. And now… things were different. Not bad. But not the same.

—Hi Pietra,— Amelie said politely, pulling off her sunglasses.

—Hi,— Pietra replied with a soft smile, glancing around the villa. —This place is insane.—

—It’s my mum’s, technically. She bought it years ago and forced my dad into early retirement here,— Amelie said, voice light, trying.

—Well, she has great taste,— Pietra added, gaze flickering between her and Lando quickly before settling on the ocean view.

—You guys want a drink? We’ve got palomas, mojitos… Lando made some horrifying attempt at sangria earlier,— Amelie offered, slipping back into host mode.

—Hey! It was decent.— Lando frowned. —I followed a recipe. Ish.—

Max chuckled. —I’ll take a mojito, Ames. You still make the good ones?—

She arched a brow. —Is that your way of trying to charm your way back into my good graces?—

—Shit, is it working?— he grinned.

She didn’t answer, but she gave a tiny smile and disappeared inside the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the couple for a moment. The air was thick with unsaid things.

—Look, about Comporta,— Max started.

—Mate, it’s done,— Lando cut him off, voice firm but calm. —You don’t need to explain. Ames knows it wasn’t you, or Pietra. It was just bad optics.—

Pietra spoke up, voice soft. —Still, I should’ve thought it through. It was a dumb oversight, and I’m really sorry for the heat you guys got because of it.—

Lando nodded once. —It’s all good. You’re here now, so let’s just… enjoy the next two days, yeah? Golf, pool, bad dancing. No drama.—

Pietra nodded, but it was clear she still felt the weight of the tension hanging in the warm coastal air. She gave Lando a small, grateful smile before Max slung an arm around her shoulders and tugged her toward the house.

—C’mon,— Lando said, grabbing their duffel bags with ease. —I’ll show you your room. Got the best view in the house after ours.—

—Is that supposed to make me feel better or worse?— Max muttered with a smirk, following Lando up the stone steps.

Inside the villa, the air was cooler, scented faintly with salt, sunscreen, and a hint of lime from the half-prepped drinks in the kitchen. The place was airy, all whitewashed wood and glass, with sliding doors open to the ocean breeze. Lando led them down the hall to the guest suite at the far end, dropping the bags at the door.

—King bed, your own little patio, ocean view, and that bathroom’s the size of Max’s ego,— he said, pointing toward the en-suite.

Pietra let out a soft laugh as she stepped in, already digging into her bag. —I’m gonna change into my swimsuit real quick. I feel like I’ve been in jeans for forty-eight hours.—

—Take your time,— Max said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before she disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

The moment it clicked shut, Lando turned to Max, dropping the polite act.

—Okay, real talk,— he said, arms crossed. —We can’t keep doing this weird split-trip bullshit. I’m not spending another summer where I have to choose between you or her because our girlfriends don’t talk.—

Max scrubbed a hand over his face. —God, yes. It’s exhausting. Pietra and Amelie are civil, sure, but they’re not friends. Like, not real friends. And it’s starting to get in the way.—

—Exactly. I swear, Ames would never say it out loud, but she’s tense as hell anytime Pietra’s around. And when she saw that Comporta thing with Magui… fuck, man, it messed her up. Even if she knows you didn’t mean anything by it.—

—Yeah, Pietra felt like shit for that too. She gets why it was a big deal now. I think it clicked when the rumor went viral. She hadn’t thought about how it’d look from Amelie’s end.—

Lando exhaled and sat on the edge of the bed. —We just need them to click. Properly. Like, if they become friends, Pietra stops hanging out with people who bring drama. And Ames will stop feeling like she’s always watching her back when we’re in the same room.—

Max pointed. —And we can start making actual plans again. Like double dates. Trips. You know, normal couple shit. Instead of this weird avoidance dance.—

Lando smirked. —Operation Make Them Bond starts now.—

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

liked by lanmelliesimp13, maxiebae, and others

f1gossipgirl: 👀 SOOO Pietra and Max are officially in Cabo too… which means 👏 she’s 👏 with 👏 Lanmelie 👏 now 👏

looks like the friend group is BACK together?? 😳👀 wonder if the vibes are as chill as the drinks… or if someone’s still side-eyeing 👀💅

View all 59,119 comments

glamgptea: pietra and max in cabo too??? this trip just got messier 😭 → f1hotgirleras: @glamgptea i’m grabbing popcorn and sunscreen rn

lanmeliecentral: not them turning a cheating scandal into a double date vacation 💅 growth → wifeyforlan: @lanmeliecentral i would’ve held a grudge forever but amelie’s too classy for that → povurmom: @lanmeliecentral she’s giving mature queen and i’d be giving petty

lanmelliesimp13: max and pietra prob walked in like “can we talk?” and lando was already shirtless in the pool 💀 → babygrid: @lanmelliesimp13 amelie handed them a margarita before they finished “hi”

tropicwags: not pietra & max crashing the lanmelie honeymoon part 2 😭 → lanmelie4ever: @tropicwags they’re in their we forgive but we don’t forget era 😌✌️ → f1dramaqueen: @lanmelie4ever let’s just hope nobody mentions comporta or it’s over

lanxamelie: lando said “make peace or swim home” 😭

gridgirliee: pietra really went from comporta chaos to cabo redemption arc and i respect the hustle → landoisdownbad: @gridgirliee she said “lemme fix my PR and get a tan” 💅🏽

wifeydayman: i give it 2 margaritas before max says something and gets death stared by ames → chaosnferrari: @wifeydayman 2 is generous, i’m betting halfway through the chips 💀

letameliecook: not them on a forgiveness vacation while i’m crying over a man who can’t even text back

maxiebae: max got his boyfriend back and that’s all that matters 💔💅 → softlaunchsupreme: @maxiebae now kiss

sunburntcircuit: amelie really said “let’s be grown” and booked a villa 😭 queen → helmet4heels: @sunburntcircuit fr she’s too classy for this world

paddocktea: pietra showing up post-miami like “hey besties 💕 ignore the rumors” → queenamelz: @paddocktea she’s walking a fine line but honestly? brave → tyrepressure: @paddocktea she brought pão de queijo, she’s forgiven

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

After a lazy couple of hours by the pool filled with mocktails, sunburn threats, and a very unfortunate cannonball from Max that nearly soaked Pietra’s Kindle, everyone slowly peeled off into their corners of the villa. Pietra and Max disappeared to their guest room with murmurs of "nap time" that made Amelie roll her eyes, and Lando had slinked off to their bedroom to "change."

That was already suspicious. Because Lando never changed early unless he was going somewhere.

Which meant…

Amelie, still in her damp bikini, towel slung lazily around her waist, padded barefoot into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and pulled out a slice of leftover quiche—because fuck it, she'd swam and hosted and smiled politely through enough strained silences today to earn herself a snack.

She’d just taken a big bite, leaning back against the cool marble island with the fridge still cracked open behind her, when she heard his footsteps.

And then—of course—his voice.

—Hey, babe.—

Her eyes flicked up. And there he was.

Polo shirt tucked neatly into beige golf shorts, belt perfectly aligned, those stupid little no-show socks with pristine white golf shoes, and—God help her—a cap flipped backward over his curls like he was auditioning to be in a country club boyband.

Amelie stared, chewing slowly. Swallowed. Pointed her fork at him.

—No.—

Lando’s brows lifted in faux innocence, hands slipping into his pockets as he leaned against the doorway like he hadn’t just walked in looking like the human embodiment of her worst nightmare.

—No what?— he asked, voice syrupy.

Amelie tilted her head, narrowed her eyes.

—No. I know that outfit. I know that walk. I know that fake-ass casual greeting. You’re gonna say something like ‘we’re just gonna hit a few balls’ or ‘come on, babe, it’ll be fun’ and I am telling you now...no.—

Lando smirked, pushing off the doorframe and strolling toward her with the easy swagger of a man who had been plotting. Plotting for days.

—You don’t even know what I was going to say,— he said, reaching around her to close the fridge door.

She crossed her arms, the quiche plate balanced on one palm. —It’s golf, isn’t it? You’re gonna try and make me go. Don’t lie to me, Norris. You’re in uniform.—

—Technically, yes. But hear me out.—

She took another bite of her quiche, glaring at him like it was the only thing tethering her to sanity.

—There is no hearing out. I hate golf. It’s walking in the heat while pretending to care about something that makes paint drying look thrilling. And don't even start with the 'just a few easy holes' talk.—

—That’s the thing,— Lando said, now fully grinning, grabbing a grape from the fruit bowl and popping it in his mouth. —You’re not doing the hard ones. Max and I are. You and Pietra are just doing the, like… mini-golf equivalent. A few swings, a golf cart, some drinks. Vibes only.—

—So you’re leaving me alone with her?— Amelie asked flatly.

Lando shrugged, only slightly guilty. —Not alone. Just… not with us. Temporarily.—

—This is the worst idea you’ve ever had.—

—Oh, come on.— Lando’s voice dropped into that dangerous, boyish persuasion tone she hated because it always worked. —You’ll keep Pietra company, and Max and I’ll do the harder holes. Maybe you’ll even have fun. Stranger things have happened.—

Amelie scoffed. —Yeah? Name one.—

Lando’s smile widened as he slid closer, trapping her gently between the kitchen island and his very annoyingly toned, golf-ready body.

—Stranger things? Easy,— he murmured, hands finding her waist, fingertips brushing against the edge of her towel. —You dating me. You letting me see you first thing in the morning with your hair like a war zone. You crying during Finding Nemo. You surviving F1 weekends without committing homicide.—

She narrowed her eyes. —You’re dodging the question.—

—No, I’m sweetening the pitch,— he corrected, leaning in until his nose nearly grazed hers. —Plus…— His gaze dropped for a second, a lazy smile spreading across his lips. —I’ve been dying to see you in that golf set I got you. You know the one.—

Her eyes widened a fraction. —No.—

—Yes,— he said, almost reverently. —The little green skirt. The matching sleeveless top. The knee-high socks. The visor, Ames. You haven’t even touched it since I bought it for you in Monaco. And it’s just been sitting in the closet, all lonely, unloved, unworn.—

—I told you when you bought it, I wasn’t wearing it because I wasn’t going golfing. It was a statement.—

—And now look at us. The statement has circled back to bite you in the cute little ass I’m currently holding.—

—Lando,— she warned, trying not to smile, especially when he dipped his head and kissed her jaw, right beneath her ear.

—I’m not asking you to like golf,— he murmured against her skin. —I’m just asking you to fake it for, like, an hour. Maybe two. Pretend the cart is a Mario Kart. Drive Pietra around. Talk shit about Max’s swing. Hit one ball and dramatically scream like you’ve pulled a muscle.—

Amelie huffed. —That sounds like something you’d do.—

—Exactly. I’m setting the bar low here, Ames. Bare minimum energy. All vibes, no pressure. And maybe…— his hands slipped lower, tugging lightly at the towel, —maybe… if you wear that outfit… I’ll owe you a favor. Any favor. Cash it in whenever.—

Her brows lifted. —Any favor?—

His grin turned sinful. —Anything. Within reason. Or mildly outside of reason if I get to film it.—

Amelie groaned, tilting her head back against the fridge. —God, you’re the worst. The absolute worst.—

But her resolve was already crumbling.

Because she did remember the outfit. And she did know how Lando had looked when he’d picked it out—like he was imagining her in it before the hanger even hit the register. And she did want Pietra to feel included, like they were cool now, like she could trust Amelie to meet her halfway.

And also…

Lando’s hand had snuck up under her towel and was currently tracing small circles on her hip.

—Ugh,— she groaned dramatically. —If I say yes, you owe me a massage tonight. With oil. And music. And no whining about your hands getting tired.—

—Deal,— he said instantly. —And I’ll even light a candle. One of the sexy sandalwood ones you like.—

She sighed, finally pushing her plate onto the counter. —Fine. But if I get sunburned and have to go back to filming with a golfer’s tan, I’m writing a diss track about you.—

Lando leaned in and kissed her—slow, smug, and sweet. —As long as I’m the music video lead, I’m in.—

—God help me,— she muttered.

—Go put the outfit on,— he whispered against her lips. —Make my country club fantasies come true.—

—You’re disgusting.—

—You love me.—

And as she stalked off to the bedroom muttering curses under her breath, Lando turned and pumped a silent fist in the air. Phase One: complete. The girls were going. Which meant Phase Two—Get Them To Bond Over Mocking Golf—was officially a go.

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

liked by chaoticwags, f1.gamercrush, and others

landoupdates: Lando and Max went live on Twitch today while golfing in Cabo and when chat kept asking “where’s Amelie and Pietra???” these two idiots started laughing like 12-year-olds and said “we left them alone on purpose so they can trauma bond or whatever.” 😭😭

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️💅 the girls better come back braided up like childhood besties or this experiment FAILED

View all 99,054 comments

chaoticwags: not lando forcing the girlies to bond like it’s couples therapy 💀

lando1simp: lando when the girls finally laugh at the same joke: 🧍‍♂️💅✨🥹 → maxielstan: @lando1simp bro acting like dr. phil with a golf club

traumabondingirlies: not max & lando golfing while the girls rework the alliance terms 😭 → brunchwags: @traumabondingirlies ceasefire secured over mimosas probably

chaoticwags: NOT THE DOUBLE DATE DETENTE LMFAOOO → norihottie: @chaoticwags peace in the lanmelie kingdom finally fr → cactussocks: @norihottie give them matching bracelets already 💅

ameliecore: if they come back from Cabo doing TikToks together I’m gonna scream → softlanmelie: @ameliecore “bestie vibes only 💋” and I’ll know it was all Lando’s doing 😭

wifeyamelie: Lando locked his girl down and got his boyfriend back. balance has been RESTORED. → maxnation: @wifeyamelie he missed Max more than the papaya team missed podiums 💀 → landoilover44: @maxnation be fr he probably cried after Comporta

pietraangel: I’m lowkey rooting for Pietra and Amelie to become unhinged besties → screamingformclaren: @pietraangel imagine them side-eyeing Max and Lando in sync… ICONIC

maguischilling: i know magui somewhere punching air rn 😭 → gossipgrill: @maguischilling don’t summon her pls we just got peace

lanmelieslay: this is the healing era. lanmelie nation… we won.

celebchaoscentral: not pietra and amelie entering their diplomatic relations era in cabo 😭😭 → lanfanclub: @celebchaoscentral the UN wishes they had this level of peacekeeping → softforlanmelie: @celebchaoscentral Lando and Max playing peace brokers like it’s a romcom subplot help 😭

lanmeliedaily: lando got his boyfriend and his girlfriend back i fear → pietraslittlegirl: @lanmeliedaily he really said double date or DIE

lanmelietok: max: “we left them alone to bond” — that man was scared for his LIFE 😭 → amsluvr: @lanmelietok max said “no drama no beef pls i just wanna golf and vibe”

tropigridgirlies: if they come back from this trip matching friendship bracelets i’m gonna SCREAM → cabokissesss: @tropigridgirlies enemies to brunch friends like we’ve never seen before → noforrealmax: @tropigridgirlies if pietra posts amelie i’m calling my mom idc

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Amelie stepped out of the villa just as golden hour hit, the fading sun brushing her skin with a warm, forgiving glow. She adjusted the little green visor Lando had once dramatically tossed into their shared shopping cart in Monaco and tried not to think about how smug he’d looked earlier when she finally pulled the outfit out of the closet. Because now she understood why.

The skirt was short. Like, very short. The sleeveless top clung in just the right places.

She looked like every teenage boy’s fantasy of what golf should be. And judging by the way Lando turned his head so fast when she appeared, jaw slack and pupils dilated like he’d just seen a UFO, she was right.

—You’re staring,— she said flatly, shifting her weight to one leg, hip popping.

—No, I’m not,— Lando said, still staring, not even blinking. Max coughed a laugh behind him.

—Bro, you literally just walked into the umbrella stand.—

—Shut up,— Lando muttered, tugging at his collar like it was suddenly suffocating him.

They were all gathered by the stone steps that led down to the private golf course attached to the villa. Max was already loading clubs into the back of one of the two waiting golf carts, and Pietra stood off to the side, sipping from a bottle of water and eyeing Amelie with the kind of neutral appraisal that made Amelie’s neck itch. Not hostile. Not rude. Just... unreadable.

—Alright, teams,— Max called out, clapping his hands together. —Boys go tackle the manholes.—

—That’s not what they’re called,— Lando said distractedly, eyes still locked on Amelie.

—You sure? Because I’ve definitely heard you say something about 'checking your manhole' before.—

—Max.—

Amelie snorted. Pietra did not.

—And ladies,— Max continued, ignoring the death glare his girlfriend was now giving him, —you get the fun cart. Drinks, shade, easy holes. Don’t crash it.—

—You say that like you think we’re the problem,— Amelie said, walking toward the second cart, feeling Lando’s eyes burn into her legs the entire way.

—No, he says that because he once flipped a golf cart trying to impress Daniel Ricciardo,— Pietra muttered under her breath as she climbed into the passenger seat.

Amelie blinked. Oh.

Interesting.

Lando opened his mouth, clearly about to protest the seating arrangement—because obviously he wanted to be in a cart with Amelie, that much was written all over his red-eared, barely-holding-it-together face—but Max clapped a hand on his shoulder and dragged him to the other cart before he could say a word.

—C’mon, lover boy. Let the girls bond. We’ll reconvene in two hours with sweat stains and wounded pride.—

Lando looked back one more time, lower lip between his teeth, and Amelie knew that if he stayed any longer, he’d either say something inappropriate or try to drag her into the woods.

So she just gave him a little wave. Sweet. Innocent. Absolutely dripping in silent mockery.

He groaned audibly as the cart pulled away.

The first few minutes were… painful.

Amelie drove. Pietra fiddled with her phone. Silence hung in the cart like smog, thick and awkward and threatening to choke both of them. The breeze did nothing. The trees whispered uselessly. Somewhere in the distance, a bird chirped and Amelie considered asking it to peck her eyes out for entertainment.

They reached the first easy hole. Pietra got out, stretched, and swung her club with robotic precision. It wasn’t bad. But it wasn’t relaxed either.

Amelie sighed. Picked up her club. Took a lazy swing. The ball rolled a whopping ten feet.

—Wow,— Pietra deadpanned. —Incredible display of raw athleticism.—

Amelie smirked. —Thank you. I trained with Tiger Woods once. He said I was too powerful for the sport.—

Pietra cracked a smile. Barely, but it was there. The first dent in the silence.

They moved on. Hole two. Pietra drove this time. Her posture behind the wheel was almost surgical—straight-backed, two hands, full concentration like they were navigating a Formula 1 track instead of a perfectly paved golf path with butterflies crossing like it was a Disney movie.

—So,— Amelie said, voice overly casual. —You always this serious about sports that don’t matter?—

Pietra exhaled through her nose, turning the wheel with a little more force than necessary. —I just don’t like looking stupid at things. Especially things Max is good at.—

—Fair,— Amelie said, adjusting the strap of her visor. —Although if “not looking stupid” was the bar, I wouldn’t have agreed to this at all.—

Pietra let out a huff that might’ve been a laugh. Still clipped. But less icy.

They reached the third hole. It had one of those annoyingly placed sand traps, like someone had designed it specifically to ruin your self-esteem. Pietra got out and sized it up like she was about to perform surgery on it.

Amelie, meanwhile, slumped dramatically over the steering wheel. —You think if I pretend to faint, they’ll let us go home?—

Pietra’s lips twitched. —Only if you commit to the bit. Foam at the mouth or something.—

—Too far. I’m method, not deranged.—

That got a real laugh. Quick and surprised, like it snuck out before Pietra could decide whether or not she wanted it to.

—Max always foams at the mouth when he sleeps,— Pietra said, stretching her back with a faint grimace. —I swear to God, he’ll roll over, open his mouth like a dying fish, and it’s like a damn waterfall. I nearly drowned last week.—

Amelie blinked. Then blinked again.

Then snorted so hard she nearly choked on her spit. —Wait, what?—

Pietra shook her head, face serious but eyes a little brighter now. —Dead serious. We stayed at this hotel in Lisbon, and I woke up thinking it was raining. Nope. Just Max, sleeping face-up like a cartoon character, drooling like his jaw forgot how gravity works.—

Amelie wheezed. Bent over the steering wheel. —Oh my God. That’s so foul. Lando snores. Like, whistles. Through his nose. It’s like sleeping next to a dying kettle.—

Pietra’s eyes widened, then narrowed like she was trying to picture it. —That actually makes so much sense.—

—Right? I love him, but every time I get woken up at 3 a.m. by Steam Engine Norris, I start making mental hit lists.—

Pietra laughed again—louder this time. Amelie grinned, surprised at how easy it suddenly felt. Like they’d cracked something. Or maybe just realized they were both dating deeply stupid, occasionally disgusting boys who somehow made it worth it.

—Max takes, like, forty-five minutes to pick a movie,— Pietra said, hopping back into the cart. —And then he falls asleep twenty minutes in.—

Amelie gasped. —Lando does the exact same thing. Swears up and down he wants to watch something, spends ages making a whole thing of it: lights off, snacks, makes me pause trailers to “really analyze them”... and then he’s out like a light. Head back. Mouth open. Whole performance, gone.—

—And then tries to recap it the next day like he was awake the entire time.—

—“Yeah, yeah, the bit with the guy in the suit... crazy, right?”— Amelie mimicked, rolling her eyes. —Sir, you were unconscious before the title card.—

They both dissolved into laughter, the tension finally shedding like an old coat.

The cart bumped slightly as Pietra hit a root, but neither of them cared. They were too busy making a list of their boyfriends’ most criminal habits.

—Max has this thing where he talks in his sleep,— Pietra added, smirking.

Amelie’s eyes lit up. —No. What does he say?—

—Mostly nonsense. One time he said, “Tell Lando the penguin has the codes.” I didn’t sleep after that. I thought it was a warning.—

Amelie nearly dropped her club. —That’s a spy movie. That’s not even his real life! Why is he dreaming in fake espionage plots?!—

—Don’t ask me. I think he watched Mission: Impossible and it rewired his brain.—

They were still laughing when they pulled up to the fifth hole—an easy one, with a wide green and zero traps—but neither made a move to get out.

Instead, they just sat there, the cart idling, the sun sinking lower over the rolling hills, painting everything in a soft golden haze. A light breeze swept Pietra’s ponytail to one side, and Amelie leaned her elbow on the steering wheel, suddenly aware of how different this felt than she expected.

Not forced. Not fake. Just… warm.

Pietra glanced at her, expression shifting, the humor fading just enough for something more honest to slip in. —Hey,— she said, tone softer now. —About what happened. With Comporta. And the rumors.—

Amelie straightened a little. The mention of Comporta tightened something in her stomach—an echo of that week in May when she’d woken up to her name trending, paired with cheating and Lando and Magui, all because of one stupid photo.

—It wasn’t our fault,— Pietra continued, —but I should’ve said something. Reached out. I didn’t realize it would blow up the way it did, and when it did, it was already too messy. I didn’t know if I should text you or leave it alone. And by the time Max tried to explain it all, it just… felt too late.—

Amelie didn’t answer right away. She stared out at the course, tapping a finger against the wheel. —Yeah,— she said finally. —It sucked.—

—I know.—

—It really fucking sucked.—

Pietra nodded. —I know.—

Amelie glanced at her, searching her face. —Did she know I’d see those pictures? Magui, I mean.—

Pietra hesitated. Just a beat. But that was enough.

Pietra hesitated. Just a beat. But that was enough.

—That’s what I thought,— Amelie muttered.

—She didn’t do it maliciously. At least not...— Pietra stopped. Winced. —Okay. No. I don’t know that. But I do know Max was furious. He genuinely had no idea she’d be there, and it caused a whole thing between us. Like… a real fight.—

Amelie blinked. That part she didn’t know.

—I’m not saying this to get points,— Pietra added. —I just want you to know that we didn’t... I didn’t...cosign any of it. Max wouldn’t do that to you. Neither would I. Not intentionally.—

—I know Max wouldn’t,— Amelie said quietly. —And I guess… I know you wouldn’t either. Not now, anyway.—

A silence settled between them. Not tense, just thoughtful.

Pietra pulled at a loose thread on her polo. —I was kind of nervous inviting you to come out here. I thought you’d say no.—

—I almost did,— Amelie admitted. —But Lando bribed me with a massage.—

Pietra barked a laugh. —Sounds about right.—

—He also promised to light a sexy candle.—

—Jesus Christ.—

—I know. It’s tragic.—

They grinned at each other. And suddenly, it wasn’t awkward anymore.

They played a few more holes. Hit balls into bushes. Got mildly yelled at by an old man in plaid pants. Shared a can of sparkling lemonade from the cooler. Amelie showed Pietra how to swing like a “drunk aunt at a wedding,” and Pietra showed Amelie how to restart the cart when she accidentally flooded the engine. They were not good at golf, but they were getting better at this—whatever this fragile, hesitant friendship thing was turning into.

By the ninth hole, they were sun-flushed and laughing again, legs kicked up on the dash while they waited for the boys to reappear.

Amelie leaned her head back and sighed. —Honestly? You’re a lot cooler than I thought you’d be.—

Pietra raised a brow. —That’s either the best or worst compliment I’ve ever gotten.—

—I mean it. We’ve just… never really hung out. Outside of group stuff.—

—That’s because you’re famous and terrifying and I thought you hated me.—

—I don’t hate you.—

—Good. Because I think we’re in a codependent support group now. For Girlfriends of Stupid Men.—

Amelie laughed. —God. You’re right.—

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

liked by amelzbackup, norisbaby, and others

daymangallery: AMELIE JUST POSTED PIETRA ON HER STORY?? 😭😭

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f1gftrash: amelie posting pietra on her story… peace has been restored🙏 → lanlover44: @f1gftrash fr the girlies are HEALING → wagwatcher_98: @lanlover44 max and lando probably high-fived after that story went up 😭

chaoticwags: lando and max sending their girls off like “go bond babes” while they go play golf is so boyfriend-coded → norisimp: @chaoticwags literally bromance + matchmaking in one trip → f1flirtz: @chaoticwags max was like “i want my boyfriend back, fix it queen”

ameliesfingertats: we went from “pietra unfollowed amelie??” to “pietra in amelie’s story looking like a vogue ad” like how did we get here → lilacformula: @ameliesfingertats idk but i’m living for this arc

lanmelieupdates: lando really said “you two are gonna get along even if it kills me” and honestly? king behavior → amelesbian: @lanmelieupdates he’s tired of group dinners being awkward 😭 → tiktoklanmelie: @lanmelieupdates lando’s in his peacekeeper era and it’s WORKING

formulababie: they better be sipping caipirinhas and trauma bonding rn i NEED this friendship → pietraluvbot: @formulababie if they come back with matching bracelets i’m gonna cry

hotlapshottie: be honest lando invited max just to fix his girlfriend’s beef with max’s gf so he can go back to being thirdwheeled in peace → daymansdaydream: @hotlapshottie the bromance agenda stays winning 😤 → amxln4: @daymansdaydream max missed his gossip sessions with amelie ok he’s suffering too

pietralover420: she in the golf cart like nothing happened... icon → wagsupreme: @pietralover420 she’s soft launching the redemption arc

maxiscat: max seeing amelie and pietra laughing like: finally. peace.

sunnyamelz: idc if it’s fake or not i love this new girlfriend alliance → y0uland0: @sunnyamelz honestly we needed this for the offseason content alone

pitwallprince: everyone talking about pietra and amelie making up but what about max getting his emotional support back

amelzbackup: remember when y’all said amelie was gonna throw hands?? now she’s throwing IG tags 💅 → wagsunite: @amelzbackup character development babes. we love to see it.

lanmelieslut: if pietra + amelie end up vibing??? iconic duo unlocked → gridgirlies: @lanmelieslut the fit pics will be out of control → pitwallpeach: @lanmelieslut we survived the cheating rumor arc for THIS

mclovinf1: wait… so this means double dates are back on the menu??? → tracksidewife: @mclovinf1 i’m manifesting dinner pics and chaotic uno nights → quadgirlszn: @mclovinf1 amelie dragging pietra into a skincare live in 3…2…1

norisbaby: Lando: "we left them alone to become friends" Me: refreshing stories every 5 seconds like a divorced parent on visitation weekend → kartingchaos: @norisbaby real the way i’m INVESTED

softlaunchlegend: i can’t believe pietra got promoted from ✨tension✨ to ✨instagram story✨ → ameliesbangs: @softlaunchlegend she passed the vibe check. welcome to the team.

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

By the time the sun dipped fully behind the hills, casting the Cabo sky in hues of burnt orange and cotton-candy pink, the two golf carts rumbled their way back up the path to the villa. Amelie and Pietra were both flushed from the heat, slightly sweaty, and—shockingly—laughing about something Max had done during a bachelor party in Ibiza that involved a pineapple, a karaoke machine, and a mysterious allergic reaction.

Lando and Max, waiting by the stone steps where they’d started, perked up like puppies hearing their owner’s car pull into the driveway.

—They’re smiling,— Max whispered under his breath, eyes wide with disbelief.

Lando clutched his chest dramatically. —Bro. They’re laughing. Laughing. Like... together.—

—That’s not just tolerance. That’s banter.—

—That’s progress! We’re heroes.—

As the girls climbed out of the cart—Amelie adjusting her visor, Pietra pulling her hair off her neck—the boys barely resisted the urge to sprint over.

Instead, they played it cool.

For about two seconds.

—Oh my God, you’re back!— Lando gasped, jogging dramatically like Amelie had just returned from war. —I missed you so much. I almost died.—

—We saw each other two hours ago,— Amelie deadpanned, ducking when he tried to spin her.

—Two very long hours.—

—He cried twice,— Max added, sidling up to Pietra with a dopey grin. —Once because his ball went into a bush, and once because he found a leaf that looked like Amelie.—

—Okay, it really did look like her ponytail from behind!—

Pietra raised a brow, but her lips twitched. Amelie just rolled her eyes and gave Lando a lazy kiss on the cheek before stepping back.

—You boys are idiots.—

—But we’re your idiots,— Max said, already looping his arm around Pietra’s waist.

She snorted. —Barely.—

As they reached the villa, Pietra slipped off toward her room with a muttered, —Shower. I feel like I’ve been attacked by the sun.— Amelie, still holding her water bottle, veered toward the kitchen.

And that left the boys blessedly alone in the breezy, sun-warmed entryway.

The second the girls were out of sight, Max and Lando turned to each other with synchronized grins.

HIGH-FIVE.

VICTORY DANCE.

It was stupid. It was off-beat. Max attempted a moonwalk that looked more like a seizure, and Lando did this weird chest shimmy that made absolutely no sense. But it was triumphant.

—They’re friends! They’re actual friends now!— Lando whisper-shouted, fist-pumping like he’d just won a Grand Prix.

—Operation ‘Get Them To Bond Over Mocking Golf’ was a success,— Max nodded solemnly, still panting from the dance. —I feel like I just won an Oscar for Best Boyfriend Scheme.—

And then...

—Are you two done being morons?— came Amelie’s dry voice from the kitchen entrance.

They both froze.

Amelie leaned against the doorframe, sipping her water. Her golf outfit—short skirt, clingy top, visor still perched atop messy hair—should’ve looked ridiculous. But it didn’t. It looked devastating.

Lando straightened, looking sheepish. —Hey, love. I...uh...—

—You’re such idiots,— she said, walking over to him. She kissed him square on the mouth, slow, with a teasing little hum like she knew what it did to him.

When she pulled back, Lando’s brain short-circuited a little.

Then she leaned up and whispered, —I’m gonna go take a shower. Hope you join me.—

Lando blinked. Mouth parted. Soul left his body.

—Right. Water. Yes. I’ll just… hydrate first.—

Amelie smirked and sauntered away, hips swaying just enough to be illegal in several countries.

Once she disappeared down the hallway, Max let out a long, low whistle.

—Damn. She’s gonna kill you.—

—Happily,— Lando muttered, grabbing a bottle from the fridge and chugging half of it like it could extinguish the fire blazing under his skin.

When he finally came up for air, he turned to Max, quieter now. —I haven’t told you yet… but she said yes.—

Max blinked. —To?—

—To moving in. With me. In Monaco.—

Max grinned, eyes wide. —No way. She actually said yes?—

Lando nodded, practically glowing. —Yeah. After the tour ends. She said she’s ready. Said it feels right.—

—Bro, that’s huge.—

—I know. I haven’t shown her the apartment yet. Not since the remodel. I figured I’d surprise her when she comes out for the Monaco Grand Prix. Give her the full “welcome home” moment.—

Max clapped him on the shoulder. —You hopeless, lovesick idiot. Show me. I want to see what you did to the place.—

Lando grabbed his iPad from the coffee table and pulled up a folder marked “Monaco Nest 🐣.” Max choked on his laugh.

—You named it that? What are you, a bird?—

—Shut up. Look.—

He swiped through photos of the apartment. Gone were the cold bachelor whites and the overly minimalist furniture. In their place: soft earth tones, plush couches, warm lighting, big windows framed with breezy curtains. A kitchen built for late-night snacks and chaotic baking attempts. A reading nook. Candles. A second closet for Amelie. Plants that weren’t fake.

Max stared, stunned. —Dude. This isn’t a bachelor pad anymore. This is like... a couple’s Pinterest board exploded in here.—

—That’s the point. I want her to feel like it’s hers too. Not like she’s just crashing at mine.—

Max looked at him for a moment, then nodded.

—She’s gonna love it. You did good, man.—

Lando smiled, already picturing the look on Amelie’s face when she walked through the door. Already counting the days until he could call her his roommate, his girlfriend, his everything—all under one roof.

Now all he had to do... was survive that shower.

[i-cant-sing]

The juxtaposition between Mehmed and Mustsfa is so funny. Mehmet, is a love without respect in contrast to Mustafa's respect without love (because after deciding he wants to marry Reader, he says he likes her, not loves her). Anyways I thought that was a nice little detail. Good work on breaking my heart at every turn during part 10 💔

AHHHH IM SO HAPPY SOMEONE NOTICED THIS <333333 and yes despite everything, Mustafa still only liked you, not loved you. i think thats because he has so much emotional trauma from never being enough that he thinks no one can truly love him, so he doesnt love anyone else either. he's just caught up in his own trauma. he understands that you may like him,you defintely respect him, maybe a small part of u even love him- and for that, he likes you too. maybe if he had more time with you, (and away from Mahidevran), he may have been able to process his feelings better and been actually inlove with u

Mehmed is very juvenile in his love. He's more like a toxic lover boy- "she's MINE! No one should even see her shadow! sigma alpha skibbidy🐺👹💋" like he loves u for sure, he'll whisper sweet words to u as he stares into ur soul, but he's so overly possessive that it just cancel out everything else. he doesnt realise that he's insulted you, because he thinks that youre just being stubborn to accept his "way of protecting u from the world". Mehmed's whole bitching about your niqaab/veil was inspired from me coming across reddit posts and tiktoks where men have sexualised the hijaab/niqaab and it just never fails to astound me just how disgusting any man could be.