#Celebration for 51 followers!

[itsalice3940]

CLOSED

To celebrate my 51 followers I shall now take drawing requests however before you request there are some rules you must follow.

Rule 1:1-3 oc's or characters only.

Rule 2:Full Body are allowed.

Rule 3:No NSFW .

Rule 4:Patience I ask that to those who make the drawing requests to remember that your request cannot be done quickly as I take time to make sure every detail of the drawing is there so I asked for patience if you cannot be patient and start becoming rude then you may request to see it unfinished however if you request that I will no longer be continuing it(But if you just wanna see the progress I'll show how the progress it's going and I will still continue it)

Rule 5:Reference if you want me to draw your oc you need to give a reference and picture of them in order me to draw them.

Rule 6:You can also request a scenario for your drawing request just make sure to describe it.

Rule 7:This will only be opened this week and after this week I will no longer be taking any drawing requests.

And in the drawing requests you may request me to your oc's or any characters you may send me a reference of a specific pose you wanna see your character do and backgrounds however I'm not able to make detailed backgrounds yet so don't request me for that I can only draw simple ones and if you have any more questions you may ask in my ask box.

I may add more rules but that is all for now so bring me your drawing requests!(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡(Anyone can join)

(I will accept any drawing requests as along you follow the rules)

[j-jared]

Uh, hello Tumblr! Thank you?!

I didn't expect to gain this much of a following, so, thank you for sticking around, really, it means a lot to me! I never really did a meet the artist, so, sona reveal? I'll get a more focused post together soon.

Really, thank you so much for interacting with my art and following my blog, it was originally an idea dump and now I see people might actually enjoy those ideas. If its Resurgence V3, Love Letter, Demon Triplets, or even just Warriors designs, I'm glad each and everyone of you came about!

Seriously though, if y'all are in for the long run, I got a bunch more ideas and fandoms to indulge into, and they typically cycle with my interests, so even if y'all followed for a specific fandom no longer prevalent at the moment, rest assured they will come back again.

Now I'm gonna rush off to start my Goretober piece, Jared out!

[poppadom0912]

Request

Matt Casey and Wife Reader

There’s a big crash and 51 gets called out to it and they find Matt’s wife’s car in the crash all smashed up and Matt’s pregnant wife unconscious and hurt inside with their toddler son Jack who is crying. So Matt and the 51 guys do their best to save the family of their own Captain.

Warnings: Car crash, canon-typical injuries, death.

A/N: Once again, one month later. Life is not vibing right now but it's okay. I hope anyone who celebrated Eid had a wonderful time! very belated Eid Mubarak.

I hope this suffices and meets your expectations. I know this was sent ages ago and I apologise for the very long wait, I've just had zero inspiration and drive to write. This month has been very stressful with exams but please do enjoy!!

Matt was angsty and restless ever since his 24-hour shift started. There was no reason as to why he was but no matter what he did, he couldn't get rid of the feeling. He tried sleeping it off, eating lunch and even calling you when they weren't busy, but he still felt unnerved.

Just as he was about to text you, wanting to quickly check in again, something he'd been doing much more regularly now that you were pregnant along with looking after your toddler, the bells rang.

Internally groaning, Matt tried ignoring whatever his body was trying to scream at him and rushed towards the trucks, everyone quickly getting their uniform on before jumping into their 'allocated' seats.

It didn't take too long to arrive at the scene, the mess being much larger than what they anticipated. But maybe this was good, the more work he had to do, the less time he had to himself and to contemplate on whatever was bothering him today. The scene was one large mess, cars mangled together for what seemed like miles.

Maybe this was the exact distraction he needed.

Boden began shouting orders, Kelly and him following as they too started to delegate roles between their own respective crews. With equipment in hand, everyone scattered to hopefully start minimising this massive mess. From the looks of it, several casualties were to be expected with many more injured.

Squeezing between cars, Matt looked through broken windows looking for anyone who was stuck or left behind, also keeping an ear out for any shouts of help. Only, he didn't hear anyone shouting for help, but he heard crying.

It wasn't piercing like a newborn; he knew that sound well, but it sounded like a child and that made his heart skip a beat. Ever since Jack was born, calls involving kids become infinitely worse to handle.

Running towards the crying, Matt held his breath in an attempt to hear better, but his feet suddenly came to a stop before his brain could even register what was happening.

That was your car that along with many others, was laying on its side.

Matt vividly remembered you telling him your plans for the day this morning while he got ready for work and you fed Jack. You were going to run to the office to pick up some bits before taking Jack out to the trampoline park with some of his friends and other mums.

Apparently, you never made it to the park.

The crying continued and everything came crashing down on him. It wasn't just any crying, he recognised it easily now that he was closer.

Rushing forward, Matt ignored the broken glass and dropped to his knees as he looked for his family.

He saw you first. Your eyes shut, blood trailing down your forehead, head slumped to the side and seatbelt digging into your body that sat unmoving.

He then looked in the back where the crying hadn't stopped, Jack's eyes screwed shut as he wailed, the occasional 'mama' audible between cries.

"Jack. Daddy's here Jack." Matt forced out, his throat constricting at the sight of his hurt family. First things first, he had to get Jack settled and out the car before he could get you out. "Jack, it's me."

His crying calmed down, eyes peeling open as his crying slowly eased when he found his father.

"Are you okay Jack? You hurt anywhere baby?" Matt asked, easily taking apart the door and getting in besides the car seat.

"Daddy." Finally having one of his parents with and responding to him, Jack started to cry again, making grabby hands towards Matt as his words went through one ear and out the other.

"It's okay. I've got you now." Matt cooed, unbuckling from his car seat and before he could do anything, Jack launched himself into his dad's open arms.

A small oof was forced out of Matt from the sudden force of Jack catapulting into him. But he tightly wrapped his arms around his toddler nonetheless, his chest somewhat lighter with his boy safe in his embrace.

"Matt, is that- oh shit." Kelly swore as he rounded the car, eyes going wide as he saw father and son.

"I'm taking him to Sylvie." Matt started, holding out Jack for Kelly to take so he could jump out of the car that was still on its side and creaking with every movement he made. Without another word, Kelly took his godson and waited for Matt to get out before handing him back over.

"I'm waiting on Cruz and Violet." Kelly said, his eyes remaining on the father and son duo, both of their arms wrapped tightly around the other in fear of being separated again. "We've got Y/N, I promise."

Matt didn't even bat an eye when his best friend made a promise, one of which they were never allowed to make as first responders.

With another glance at your unconscious body, Matt held his breath as he stepped away, his heart constricting when Jack realised what was happening, trying his best to not crumble at his toddler's cries for his mama who wasn't responding to him.

*****

Somehow, Jack came out of the crash relatively unharmed besides the few cuts and bruises. He was for sure to be sore for the rest of the week. You however, your physical state was harder taking into account your pregnancy and they could only do so much in an ambulance.

It took them some time, but they had gotten you out safely, laying down still unmoving on a backboard. There were two of you but only one of him and with the way Jack was gripping his uniform jacket, there was no way he could leave, especially when he'd whimper at any movement he made, in hear his father would leave him alone.

Boden had dismissed him from the scene, giving him the permission to ride in the same ambulance as you, Jack not once letting go of him.

The hospital was in its usual disarray but Matt's concern was so high for you and your unborn child that he didn't even bat an eye at all the doctors and nurses running around ragged.

Natalie had seen you immediately, wasting no time in checking your physical state before scanning your stomach.

Matt could've cried when Natalie confirmed there was absolutely no harm caused besides whatever had been inflicted upon you.

After a few more checks and tests, Natalie turned to him with an understanding smile.

"She most likely has a concussion, some bruises that will definitely be sore for few weeks but nothing internal or severe."

Matt sighed in relief, his entire body deflating as he slumped back in the chair, Jack moving with him from his now permanent position in Matt's lap.

"You can go sit with her."

And so he did without any further prodding.

Walking back into the room, Matt looked your unconscious figure over, confirming with his own eyes that everything was indeed fine and you were in fact healthy.

Manoeuvring the sleeping toddler in his lap, Matt sat down and placed your hand in his. His fingers gently caressing the scars and scratches on your hands, knuckles raw and red from the sudden impact.

Closing his eyes, Matt lightly pressed a kiss into Jack's hair, his eyes stuck on you.

His little family were all safe and with him here where he wouldn't let them out of his sight. If his throat got tight and his eyes watery, glistening in the bright hospital lights, no one saw.

No one would blame a man who almost lost all his family before he could even meet its final member.

Matt sniffled, shaking away such unnecessary deprecating thoughts. You were all here now, unharmed for the most of it, and you were back with him. That was all that mattered.

[magz]

Palestine related news summary from LetsTalkPalestine, May 1 to May 4, 2024.

[Ways to help, sources, and more: LetsTalkPalestine Linktree]

May 1.

(Instagram reel of UCLA protest. Includes footage of treating n washing a pro-palestine protestors' bloody head)

Day 208

🇨🇴 Colombia to cut diplomatic ties w/ Israel

•⁠ ⁠33 killed, 57 injured in the last 24 hours. Real number likely higher

⚖️ US lobbying ICC not to issue arrest warrants for senior Israeli officials, after Israel's threat to respond by retaliating against Palestinian Authority for sparking ICC investigation

🇫🇷 France denies selling weapons to Israel used in Gaza, claiming what's sold will be re-exported to 3rd countries via Israel, but did supply Israeli Iron Dome defense system

🇹🇷 Turkey set to follow Columbia & Nicaragua by joining South Africa's ICJ case against Israel

🎓 Zionist mob attacked Palestine protestors at UCLA w/ fireworks & pepper spray for 3 hours, police didn’t intervene (📹👆). Columbia & CUNY asked NYPD to raid & arrest 280+ student protestors. New encampments across UK, Tunisia & Canada

🚚 First aid trucks enter through Beit Hanoon crossing to north Gaza despite Israel's promise to open 1 month ago. Nearly half of aid convoys to north Gaza denied by Israel.

May 2.

(Instagram post, news update. The Israeli occupation has killed Palestinian Dr. Adnan Al-Barash.)

Day 209

• 28 Palestinians killed, 51 injured in last 24 hours. Note that the toll is underreported.

🏥 Dr. Adnan al Barash killed in captivity after IOF abducted him in Dec (📷👆)— 496 medical personnel killed in Gaza + 309 in captivity

🇸🇦 Saudi Arabia arrests many for anti-Israel online posts, incl. an executive & media figure. Timing suspicious w/ reports of renewed normalization talks

• IOF attacks aid convoy, killing 1

🇹🇷 Turkey stops all trade w/ Israel after banning 54 exports to Israel

🇺🇸 US House pass “antisemitism awareness” bill using repressive IHRA definition of antisemitism despite antisemitism covered in anti-discrimination law. Why is IHRA definition problematic? See tinyurl.com/ynsfy8sx

• IOF airstrike in central Gaza killed 5, incl. a child

🪨 37m tons of rubble in Gaza, heavy contamination w/ unexploded ammunition & 800,000 tons of asbestos

🎓 Columbia & Emory University face federal investigation for anti-Muslim discrimination, reports of doxing & harassment

May 3.

Day 210

• World Press Freedom Day: Israel killed 100+ journalists since Oct 7 + holding 53 captive

• 26 killed, 51 injured in the last 24 hours. Note the toll is underreported.

• Israel attack on Rafah killed 7, incl. a mother & her children — the children’s bodies were shredded by the airstrikes

🇹🇹 Trinidad & Tobago recognizes the State of Palestine as West Bank & Gaza

🇬🇧 UK sanctions 2 Israeli groups + 4 settlers for violence in West Bank, warns of more sanctions if no Israeli action against settler attacks

• Israeli strike on Bureij camp killed 5, incl. a child

💰 UN estimates cost to rebuild Gaza at $40bn; more than post-WWII reconstruction

🎓 Goldsmiths University students in London win & obtain demands after occupying library — @ goldsmithsforpalestine on instagram for details

🎓 University encampments for Gaza go global spreading to 🇨🇦 🇮🇳 🇳🇿 🇪🇸 🇦🇷 🇯🇵 🇰🇼 🇱🇧 🇹🇳 🇯🇴. US crackdown w/ 2,200 students arrested

• Iran-backed Bahraini militia launches attack at southern Israeli port Eilat

May 4.

Day 211

✝️ Israel blocks entry of many Palestinian Christians to Jerusalem for Holy Saturday celebrations

•⁠ 32 Palestinians killed, 41 injured in Gaza in last 24 hours. Toll underreported

•⁠ ⁠IOF killed 5+ in 15-hour siege on Tulkarem (West Bank) & clashes with Hamas resistance fighters. IOF targeted fighters’ homes w/ women & kids inside, demolished homes trapping many under rubble

•⁠ ⁠Israeli strikes on Gaza kill 11 incl. 3 in bombings of tents in Rafah

•⁠ Head of UN WFP says north Gaza experiencing “full-blown famine” and it’s only a matter of time before south Gaza faces same level of starvation

🇫🇷 British-Palestinian @ dr.ghassan.as denied entry to France for Senate address as witness of Gaza Genocide as Germany put year-long ban on his entry to Europe (Schengen)

🇺🇸 88 US lawmakers warn Biden that Israeli aid blockade violates US ‘foreign assistance’ law

•⁠ IOF abducts 5 overnight in West Bank

🎓 Uni encampments spread to Switzerland, Ireland, Germany, Cuba & Costa Rica

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 Scenes from renewed airstrikes by the Israeli occupation army targeting the town of Beit Hanoun, in the northern Gaza Strip, where a huge tower of smoke and dust rises over the city. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

209 DAYS OF GENOCIDE IN GAZA AS ISRAELI OCCUPATION CONSIDER ALTERNATIVES TO RAFAH INVASION

On 209th day of "Israel's" ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 3 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 28 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 51 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to reach countless hundreds, even thousands of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or who's bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind while considering the scale of the mass murder.

As a result of the genocide of Palestinians by the Israel occupation army, Colombia's President, Gustavo Petro, has announced his administration will sever diplomatic ties with the Israeli entity.

The Colombian President made the announcement as part of the country's annual Labor Day celebrations, during which President Petro said that the Republic of Colombia would sever all diplomatic ties with the Israeli occupation on Thursday, due to the Netanyahu administration's tendency for genocide. President Petro further called the Israeli Prime Minister himself a "perpetrator of genocide".

In other news, the Israeli occupation's Security Service may be considering alternatives to the Rafah operation, an Israeli plan to invade Gaza's southern city of Rafah, where over a million Palestinian civilians have taken shelter in tent cities under the direction of the Israeli occupation army, in order to complete the supposed defeat of Hamas.

According to a report in the Palestinian news outlet, SAMA News Agency, the Israeli occupation's Security Services are deliberating on alternatives to a full-scale invasion of Rafah due to intense international pressure and outcry over a potential operation in the last city standing in the Palestinian enclave.

More than 1.4 million Palestinians have gathered in Rafah's tent cities, most having left their homes in northern Gaza following the start of the genocide, under the direction of the Israeli occupation army who told civilians the city was to be a "safe zone".

Since then, the Israeli occupation forces have repeatedly bombed and shelled the city, including, at times, the tents of civilians.

The report states that the Israeli Security Services considers that, "“in all cases, a focused military operation must be carried out on the Philadelphia axis” on the border between the Gaza Strip and Egypt, under the supposed claim of “preventing smuggling routes for Hamas.”

The report added that the Security Services were also monitoring a "completely unusual" deployment of the Egyptian army near the border with Gaza, attributing the deployment to Egyptian fears that large numbers of Palestinians could stream across the border in the case of an Israeli assault on Rafah.

The Israeli Security Services said Egyptian army had deployed to areas where they previously had only Egyptian Police forces, which added army forces widely deployed with armored vehicles near the border.

The Security Services went on to say that Israeli army officers were preparing for a scenario similar to the 2012 operation, in which Palestinian mujahideen left Gaza for the Egyptian Sinai, seizing an armored vehicle before storming the Israeli border.

The report added that Israeli Security Services were considering a complete withdrawal from the Netzarim axis, seperating the northern and southern halves of Gaza, which constitutes a "heavy price" that the Israeli occupation was willing to pay as part of a hostage exchange deal with the Hamas Resistance movement. This despite continued Israeli calls for the "complete destruction" of the Hamas movement.

In further news, a number of American congressional Democrats signed a letter to US President Joe Biden, calling on the President to influence the Israeli occupation into not conducting an operation to invade the city of Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip.

57 out of 212 Congressional Democrats signed the letter, asking the Biden administration to take all necessary measures to dissuade the Israeli entity's Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, from launching a full-scale invasion of Rafah.

"We urge you to invoke existing law and policy to immediately withhold certain offensive military aid to the Israeli government, including aid sourced from legislation already signed into law, in order to preempt a full-scale assault on Rafah," Democrats said in the letter.

The letter continued by saying, "an Israeli offensive in Rafah risks the start of yet another escalatory spiral, immediately putting the region back on the brink of a broader war that neither Israel nor the United States can afford."

"If the Israeli government will not uphold international law and protect civilians, then the United States must act to protect innocent life. We urge you to continue your work toward achieving a lasting ceasefire that will bring hostages home and build a path toward safety and security for all."

Meanwhile, the occupation's slaughter in Gaza slowed during negotiations for a hostage exchange deal, but did not stop, as several bombings targeted various sectors of the Gaza Strip, including the north, south and central axis.

In one example, Israeli occupation warplanes bombed a residential home in the Nuseirat Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip on Wednesday evening, martyring a civilian and wounding at least 5 others.

Video published by the Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS) showed the recovery of the dead and wounded, including women and children, while massive destruction was evident resulting from the strike.

In the video, PRCS crew members can be seen filling black plastic body bags, including at least one with a very small body, likely a young child.

At the same time, Zionist artillery shelling targeted a residential house in the Al-Fukhari area, killing a woman, while occupation fighter jets bombed a residential building in the "Six-Martyrs" neighborhood of the central Jabalia Refugee Camp, in Gaza's north.

Occupation jets also bombarded the town of Al-Mughraqa, while also shelling the headquarters for an electricity distribution company in Al-Zawaida, both in the central Gaza Strip.

The Barracks at the entrance of Al-Zawaida were also targeted in a bombing, resulting in a number of casualties.

By dawn, the bombing and shelling was renewed when occupation warplanes bombed the city of Al-Zahra'a, north of the Nuseirat Camp, in central Gaza, killing at least 6 civilians, while yet another bombing targeted the northwest of the Nuseirat Camp, after which, paramedic and civil defense crews removed the bodies of three civilians killed in the strike.

IOF warplanes further bombed agricultural lands near the Ard al-Mufti police station in the Nuseirat Camp, wounding 9 civilians and damaging several homes.

Elsewhere, Zionist air forces bombarded the Qaa al-Qurain area, southeast of Khan Yunis, in Gaza's south, murdering yet another civilian and wounding several others.

Occupation aircraft also bombarded the Bani Suhaila, Abasan, and al-Kuzha'a neighborhoods, east of Khan Yunis.

Local civil defense crews in the Khan Yunis Governate announced that they had recovered the bodies of 6 civilians of various ages, killed in bombings targeting the Camp area of Khan Yunis .

In yet another atrocity, occupation warplanes bombed a residential building belonging to the Ishteiwi family, in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of two Palestinians and wounding a number of others, while several other Palestinians remain missing under the rubble.

IOF fighter jets also targeted a residential home in the Al-Shujaiya neighborhood, east of Gaza City, while another bombing of the Wadi Al-Arayes area, east of the Shuja'iyya neighborhood, resulted in the deaths of two civilians who were taken to the Baptist Hospital.

A group of civilians were also targeted in an airstrike in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City.

Occupation forces also continued to bomb the Sheikh Ajlin, Tal al-Hawa, and Al-Zaytoun neighborhoods of Gaza City.

The Israeli occupation additionally targeted the tents of displaced civilian families in the city of Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, while also bombing the town of Al-Shoka and the Al-Tanour neighborhood, east of Rafah City, resulting in the death of one civilian and the wounding of many others.

As a result of "Israel's" ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the death toll among the local population has risen further still, now exceeding 34'596 Palestinians killed, including over 14'690 children and 9'680 women, while another 77'816 others were wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

May 2nd, 2024.

#source1

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#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[l8dyvenus]

PAC - The Rest of Summer 2024 For You!

NOTE: this is my first PAC in a while. take what resonates and leave what doesn’t! If you want a reading, DM me. I’m having a sale! :)

-

PILE ONE

ORACLES: fertility, attracting not chasing, no. 27: the pig

READING: immediately I got that you have been going through some sort of transformation and/or transition the last few days, weeks, months, or years and by the end of the summer there will be an emergence of a new everything or a new something you’ve been excited for or waiting for. you could have been in stagnation for a while as you do have the attracting not chasing oracle. you could’ve been frustrated that no matter how much tried to climb on top, you got pushed ten steps back but that was the universe trying to communicate with you that you are working on soul time, not your time. everything is planned in divine order so that it will be a true miracle and wish fulfillment. this could have something to do with a creative project or hobby or you will be in this type of energy for the rest of summer 2024. im getting heavy Leo vibes or just fire sign energy. being the embodiment of more confidence, courageous and outgoing. doing this will bring phenomenal luck and great abundance. you will attract high honors and all ambition attained. whatever your heart is telling you to go after this summer, go after it. follow your passions and live the rest of your summer in the energy of YOLO!

PILE TWO

ORACLES: magic, unlimited ideas, no. 28: the anchor

READING: pile two, your message is short and quick to the point! :) for the rest of summer 2024, there’s something that you’ve been wanting to do or is doing that requires complete trust and belief in that idea. you may be overthinking it, doubting it, or allowing naysayers get into your head about it but I promise you, when you put in the work for this, it is a GUARANTEE that it will bring blessings and prosperity. you literally have the anchor oracle and the anchor denotes successful ventures in business and love. if you felt drawn to pile one, please read that one as well. it was kind of similar in theory. as I told pile one, follow your heart and passions for the rest of summer 2024 and by the end of it and beginning of fall you shall reap your rewards. with this past cancer new moon, you may have set your intentions for this. by fall it will be in full bloom if you put in the work now and believe. trust in yourself. trust in the universe. you will be successful.

PILE THREE

ORACLES: communication, organize for success, no. 51: the lion

READING: pile three, you may have received bad news or will be receiving bad news about a particular subject but don’t let it get you down. for the rest of summer 2024, I’m getting that you’ve been trying to make something work but keep getting the end of the stick when it comes to this. but, before the summer ends you will receive some form of communication in regards to this and it will bring success, it’s just delayed right now. for some of you, I’m getting heavily, intuitively that you’re waiting for a college letter, internship or job offer and anticipating that it would be bad news. others of you, could’ve gotten declined by previous colleges or jobs your heart desired and sent in a letter last minute to another college you’re waiting to hear back from. either way, what resonates with you or doesn’t, there is good news coming in, in regards to something you’ve been hoping and praying for and it will be in form of a letter, email, or text. you will end your summer 2024 off celebrating!

[nicola-coughlan]

4K CELEBRATION ♡ top 10 movies as voted by my followers ↳ #1 Knives Out (2019) — 51 votes

[chingyu1023vick]

Holiday Tradition Custom Preferences

⏩ This brings a new preference category for Holiday Traditions. 

Gameplay Effects for Celebrating Holiday Traditions:

Sims who DISLIKES a holiday tradition will ignore that tradition's celebration completely.

Sims who LIKES a holiday tradition will love that tradition's celebration (lower priority than other traits or ages that ignore the tradition) and get an extra + 1 Happy moodlet when a favored tradition is running.

Requires EP05 Seasons.

Compatible with any other mods.

This preference set requires two external tools to work. You need both Zerbu's The Custom Preferences Mod (UPDATED 3rd October 2024) AND Lot 51 Core Library.

👑 Mod Info HERE 

🧡Download HERE NOW!!!

Public Access: Nov 8

🔆 Changelog in October 2024 HERE

🔹 Links to ALL My Traits, Game Mods, and CCs

🔹List of IDs for creators who want to refer my traits to their own mods 

🔹 List of Chingyu’s CC Traits Name and Descriptions for mod users

🔹 Check Mod Status after a patch & Compatibilities

👁‍🗨 Learn how to install a mod & FAQs

👁‍🗨 Terms of Use

👁‍🗨 Ask Questions/ Suggestions/ Bug Reports on Discord

▶ I need to see a screenshot or LE report to help you figure out what’s wrong!

👁‍🗨 Download on my Patreon

👁‍🗨 Follow me on Twitter

[novella-november]

Ominous / Outline October 2024 Announcement Post:

The poll about Ominous October prompts has now wrapped up, and the results are in!

51% voted to used the narrowed list of polls, while 25% wanted to vote to narrow down the prompts, and the other % had no opinion.

So! We've got two (three?) options for those participating in Ominous October 2024 :)

Ominous October 2024 *Weekly Short Stories* - Writing 714 words each day, complete one short story each week totaling 5k (or more) based on the following prompts:

Week One: Undead / Strange Town

Week Two: Changeling / Curse

Week Three: Parasitism / Revenge

Week Four: Transformation / Eternity

[You can choose between either prompt for the week, or combine them both in your story!]

Ominous October 2024 *Daily Short Stories OR Poetry*- each day, write a drabble/short story or poem based on the following prompts:

Raised from the dead

Ghost stories

“I put a spell on you”

Replacement and parasitism (changelings, cuckoos, All About Eve)

Victim turns the tables on their bully

Playing pretend or acting out on stage turns real

Medical abuse and sadistic doctors

Phantom limb

A single candle

Costume

Under the bed

What lurks in the cellar

The weird small-town

A knock at the door

The witching hour

It will never end

Graveyard ghost hunting

Misty road

Potions

Harvesting

Banshee's lullaby

Crooked reflection

"Do not speak its name"

The eleventh hour

It's too late

Bones itching

Poisoned coffee

Bloody hands

Since October is right before November, and a lot of people are going for the 30,000 words in a month goal, there are three catch-up/rest days from the 29th through the 31st!

On the 31st, Everyone picks one (or more!) spooky stories to post to celebrate!

Here is a template for Ominous October:

Please feel free to make your own custom decorated goal cards and post them in the Ominous October tags!

And don't forget to reblog for more reach! Everyone participating has around two weeks to do any prep they'd like for the weekly short stories with the prompts :D

If you would prefer to focus on Novella November Prep, there's also:

Outline October 2024

Where you spend the month outlining, doing research, making character designs, world-building, etc!

[jayparked]

jayparked's 1k follower drabble celebration event!

as a big thank you for hitting this milestone i wanted to do an event for my followers :)

please send me an ask with one or two members from enhypen (except riki) and one or two numbers from the list below! after one each prompt has been claimed i will be crossing them out!

this event is nsfw so mdni

i got this list of nsfw prompts from this post. i did remove and adjust some of the prompts so this list is slightly different than the original posters!

1.“So how do you want me to fuck you?” 2. “I’m not sharing you with anybody. You’re mine, and mine only, and I’m going to make you remember that.” 3. “That’s sweet and all but do they touch you the way I touch you? Fuck you the way I fuck you? Mm, yeah, didn’t think so.” 4. Softly, “Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”  5. “Let me take care of you. I’ll do the work.” 6. “Gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.” 7. “Can I…can I touch you?” 8. “My God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.”  9. “Can I please touch myself?” 10. “Wanna see how you look when you come undone under me.”  11. “I’ll make you feel good, I promise. Just trust me.” 12. “You sound/taste/feel/look so fucking good.” 13. “Oh God, you feel amazing, baby.”  14. A whispered “Please” slipping out of kiss bitten lips.  15. “You drive me so insane, you don’t even know.” 16. “You. Me. Bed. Now.”  17. “Is this okay?”  18. “How much do you want this?” 19. “Doing so good for me, sweetheart.”  20. “Shh, just a little more…”  21. “You’re taking me so well, baby.” 22. “Say please.”  23. “Tell me how you want me.” 24 Soft whines and whimpers; held back noises because they don’t want anyone else hearing them; a plea for more without the use of words.  25. “Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now.” 

26. “I wanna hear you beg for it"   27. “Where do you want me to touch you?” “I don’t know and I don’t care — I just want your hands on me. Please.” 28. “P-please just”—a sob—“I just need you to fuck me.”  29. “Need/want you in me.” 30. “Beg and maybe I’ll think about it.” 31. “Not so fast, bun.”  32. “So…You touch yourself to the thought of me? I’d like to see that.”   33. “Want your fingers in me.”  34. “Now, why don’t we teach you a lesson?”  35. “Touch yourself for me.” 36. “I wanna taste you on my lips again.” 37. It’s the gentle and soft touches which send shivers skittering down their spine.  38. “Rough or gentle?”  39. “Fuck, look at you right now…” 40. “You’re really messing with my head here.” 41. “Fuck, just touch me already! Just—do something!” “Not so fast. We’ve still got the whole night/day ahead of us.” 42. “Don’t wanna come until I feel you in me.” 43. “All yours. Only yours.” 44. “How about we put that pretty mouth of yours into good use, hm?”  45. “I want you to say my name like that again.”  46. “Aren’t you desperate?”  47. “Only I get to ruin you like this, you hear me?” 48. “Only I get to touch you like this, okay?”  49. “Patience, love. We’re getting there.”  50. “Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only for me.”

51. “Be good for me.”  52. “You want to come?” “Y-yes, I— please—” “Hm, but do you really deserve to?”  53. “You like that, don’t you?”  54. “Let’s make your thoughts a reality, yeah?” 55. “I’ll fuck you so good, I promise.”  56. “I can taste myself on your lips and it’s messing me up real bad.”  57. “You look like a mess and I love it, because I’m the one who made you like this.”  58. “You’ve got me all hot and bothered.” 59. “You don’t get to touch yourself until I say so.”  60. “Always so needy for me, aren’t you? Can’t help yourself, can you?”  61. “Please let me come.”  62. “I-I promise I’ll be good.”  63. “How are you feeling?”  64. “God, you feel so good around me.”  65. “So wet/hard for me already, huh?” 66. “Mm, always so impatient for me, aren’t you?” 67. “Do I turn you on that much?” 68. “Let me ride you.” 69. “Behave.”  70. “F-Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep doing that.”  71. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone more.”  72. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” 73. “Stop fucking teasing me and get to it already.”  74. “Oh, the things I’d do to you if we were alone right now…” 75. “Th-There are people outside this door—” “Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” 

76. “Look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. Can’t even take a little teasing, can you?” 77. “Yeah, but they don’t fuck you the way you deserved to be fucked, do they?”  78. “Might I remind you that these walls aren’t sound proof.”  79. A softly exhaled, “I don’t think I can ever get enough of you.”  80. “Do you know how much I love seeing you like this?”  81. “Gonna make sure you don’t forget about me or tonight.”  82. “Oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?”  83. In a hoarse whisper, “Fuck, you’re killing me here.”  84. “But you think about me when they’re fucking you, don’t you?” “I… That’s not true.”  85. “Try not to be so noisy, yeah?”  86. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?”  87. “Lift your hips up for me.” 88. “Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re bossy.” 89. “Look at you, coming undone before I’ve even started touching you.”  90. “I want to be the one fucking you this time.”  91. “Sweetheart, you’re so responsive to my touch.” 92. “I think you’d look even better under me.”  93. “Want you to ruin me.”  94. “Do whatever you want with me.”  95. “Just sit on my fucking face already.”  96. “Who gave you permission to touch yourself?” 97. “What did I just say?” 98. “You feel so fucking good in me.”  99. “You can have all of me if that’s what you want.”  100. “Baby—shit—I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the bed like this.”

101. “Tell me if it becomes too much, okay?” “Okay.”  102. “S-Stop leaving marks on my neck. I have a presentation first thing in the morning.” “Then I get to leave marks anywhere below the neck?” 103. “Let me make you feel good this time?”  104. “You only get to watch.” “B-but—” “No buts, sweetheart.”  105. “I’d fuck you right here, right now, if I could.”  106. “Let’s take it back to my place.” 107. “Are we— are we really going to do this here?” 108. “You look so cute like this, you know?” “Shut the fuck up and just fuck me already.”  109. “Why’d you stop?” “Because you sounded too fucking good and so I had like, a moment.”  110. “Eyes on me at all times, sweetheart.”  111. “Spread your legs for me.” … “Spread them wider.”  112. Hands firm on their thighs, keeping them from snapping them shut.  113. A whispered, “Then come for me,” right next to their ear after they beg for release 114. “I want you in the most sinful ways possible.”  115. “I want you to touch me like I’m the only thing you could ever want.”  116. “Can’t— can’t you go faster than this?”  117. “You like messing with my head, don’t you?” “Only because it clearly turns you on.” 118. “Fuck, you have such a tight hold on me, you don’t even know.”  119. “Don’t make too many noises or we’ll get caught.” “That’s part of the thrill.” 120. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted so badly.” 

thank you again for all of your support ♡ masterlist

[thatfandomslut]

No Matter What

Regine George x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Trigger Warning: insecurity

Request:

Valentine's / Follower Celebration Request; Regina George w/ quote 51 and piece of chocolate 5. Or: “In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find someone who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you.” w/ arguing

Valentine's / Follower Celebration Requests are closed.

"So, what happened?" Cady asked as she passed (Y/n) the glass of water from her counter. What is usually the time that Cady takes to tutor (Y/n) has turned into a therapy session since (Y/n) and Regina are arguing. This was a very rare occasion as they typically settled things in private but Regina brought Karen and Gretchen into it, so (Y/n) has come to Cady. Hence why there was a math book and homework, that was twenty-five percent finished, scattered on the table.

(Y/n) accepted the water gratefully, sighing as she wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks. "I told her I felt uncomfortable with her relationship with Shane Omen. I never said they couldn't be friends. I wouldn't ever tell anyone who to be friends with or they couldn't be friends with. However, she does that for me all the time. That's why I felt like I had the right to at least let her know that the way she was still friends with her ex-boyfriend, the boy she cheated on Aaron with, makes me uncomfortable. Maybe I'm just insecure, but them having a relationship worries me." (Y/n) explained, hoping she didn't sound bitter.

There was a hum that escaped Cady as she listened, nodding carefully. (Y/n) She could see that she was thinking, which made her dread that maybe she had no one on her side. "I understand your worries. I wouldn't feel comfortable either. I think it's actually very healthy to establish boundaries. I also don't think it's fair that Regina has made you unfriend people and then get mad when you express your discomfort with her and Shane." Cady sat beside her, putting a comforting hand on her arm. (Y/n) felt validated by Cady's words, happy to finally have someone who sees the disagreement from her point of view.

"I feel like it wouldn't matter if she didn't cheat on someone else with him. I don't care that she's friends with Aaron or her other exes. It's just Shane." (Y/n) told Cady, leaning back in her seat. She felt a bit embarrassed by how insecure she was, but she knew Cady wasn't judging her. "I just sometimes don't even feel good enough for Regina. Then, I find out she's hanging out with Shane Omen. What am I supposed to think? I know it's bad for me. I'm supposed to trust her. I do trust her. I'm just being insecure. I just really love her."

Cady rubbed her back softly. She understood what (Y/n) was saying. Oftentimes, she felt insecure around the girls herself. But, she knew it was a different level since she was in an actual relationship with Regina. "In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find someone who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you. I honestly feel like that is the love that you and Regina have. Maybe, you two just need to sit down, and maybe you can try to be vulnerable with her like you were with me." She offered softly.

She was right, too. (Y/n) and Regina did share a love that would overcome this. (Y/n) did love Regina despite all of her moods. She loved her in the morning when her hair was messy, she loved her in the afternoon when she was at lunch looking her most confident. "You're right," (Y/n) said softly, looking at her homework. "But first, I really do need help with my homework." They shared a small fit of laughter before Cady helped her finish her work.

After tutoring, she headed to Regina, wondering what she was going to say. Admittedly, (Y/n) felt a bit nervous. She wasn't the best at confrontation. That's why she sat in her car for ten minutes. Eventually, she pried herself from the driver's seat and made her way to Regina's front door. Before (Y/n) could knock or ring the doorbell, Regina opened the door with flushed cheeks. She stared at (Y/n) for a moment before running a manicured hand through her blonde hair. "I saw you sitting in your car for a while." She confessed, looking away a bit.

There was a moment of silence between the two of them, but there was no tension. It was just a thick heaviness of nervousness in the air. "I'm sorry," the two of them said in sync before laughing softly, a bit of awkwardness lifting off their shoulders. It was nice to see their anger over their last argument has finally worn off. (Y/n) always hated when Regina was angry, and Regina always tried to make sure (Y/n) was never angry. They worked together like that, always trying to protect each other's feelings while communicating and telling the truth. Sometimes, it led to little arguments, but the Shane Omen one was one of their bigger blow-ups.

Regina led her into the house, all the way to her room. "I want you to know that I cut off Shane. I realized that you had every right to feel uncomfortable. I'm sorry for invalidating your feelings the way that I did. I hope that you'll be able to forgive me." Regina said with a soft smile. (Y/n) only saw that smile when Regina was feeling vulnerable with her. Unlike (Y/n), Regina wasn't someone who wore her heart on her sleeve. So, when she apologizes, it means she took a lot of time out of her day to consider the things that have happened.

(Y/n) sighed, noticing that Regina's hand was taken into hers still. She laced their fingers together as she got the words sorted in her mind. "I'm sorry, too. I realized that I was just jealous and insecure. I trust you, and I should've made that clear. Instead, I let my fear control me." She explained, feeling tears brim in her eyes as she began to feel embarrassed again. She grew even more embarrassed when the tears began to fall down her cheeks.

Regina wiped the tears away softly, kissing (Y/n) gently on the lips. "(Y/n), I love you. No matter what I love you. I love so much it's crazy. You were valid to feel everything that you felt. The truth is, I should've cut him off a long time ago. None of this was fair to you." She said carefully, pulling away, but letting her hands stay to rub away any stray tear that continued to cascade down her girlfriend's cheeks.

There was a soft smile that pulled at the corners of (Y/n)'s lips as she sniffed. "I love you, too, Regina. No matter what." She said softly, moving in to kiss Regina once more.

[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 42.1k words | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak | oral (f receiving) | (semi) public sex | vaginal fingering

masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his mouth connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck.

a/n: this chapter was so fun to write, I accidentally made it 9.5k words lol, but it was such a relief (ish) to write. Some new warning apply to this chapter, so please be advised of those. We get to see a whole new side to Joel this chapter and we’ll get to see some “in the making of” this chapter in the following one. A little bit of context on why Joel changes so abruptly and the reasoning behind his decisions. I hope you all know how much i love love love you guys for being here for me while i struggle to find time to write. I’m working on getting back on my feet every day and this is the one safe place I have to escape and indulge in my favorite coping mechanism. Much love, H 🤍

Chapter 7–You Don’t Want That Smoke

Your birthday falls on Friday this year, (lucky you) but it also means the First Friday dance falls on your birthday this year as well. It’s the first community event after the cold winter months and by that time, most people are itching to get out of their snow-buried homes. The town usually puts on the event to celebrate the coming spring, hosting venders of all sorts and games for the families. Growing up, your parents would take you to the petting zoo and let you ride the ponies, like you didn’t have a horse at home, like there wasn’t a whole ranch to attend to, animals to raise up and sell, like you could just for a moment, be a normal little girl from a quiet street who’d never sat in a saddle in her life.

If only that had been the case, ever. If only you’d had parents who pursued safe, reliable careers, where they had pensions and retirement, insurance and benefits, instead of breaking their backs for a ranch that had been dying long before it was left to your mother by her parents. Was it obligation that kept them here, or was it something else? Was it the same thing that got you through years of college, all in an attempt to keep your parents' dream alive for a little while longer?

It’s Wednesday, which means you have two more days before your birthday and Melly’s plane lands in a few hours from Colorado, but so far your morning has taken you five rounds in the octagon and is currently coming back for more.

“—No! The statements I just got in the mail yesterday said we have ninety days to come up with three months worth of the mortgage before the property faces foreclosure.”

The woman on the other end of the phone sighs at you and you can hear the way her hands hit her keyboard. “I know that, ma’am, but that was a month and a half ago and we still have not received any payments. The bank sent another letter, requesting that the entire six month worth of back payments be received by the end of the ninety days or the property will be foreclosed on.”

The routinely scripted response feels like an open handed slap to the face, white hot pain snapping through your veins like lightning on the Wyoming plains. You sink down into the dining room chair and let it soak in all the way.

“How many days do we have left?” You hear yourself whisper into the phone but it’s not you speaking, not really—its a absent reflex like blinking or breathing.

“That's…51 days, ma’am. We’ll contact you again in thirty days if we have not received the entire amount by that time.”

Your eyes burn and blur, tears for the years of your life wasted on a useless education, until they surge past the dam and plummet to the paper below. When you look down at the document, your tears are stained red by the ink on the foreclosure notice. “How much will it be, again?” Defeated, Inadequate and Doomed.

“Fourteen thousand, three hundred and forty dollars, for six months worth of the Mortgage and late fees accumulated.” She sounds annoyed when she reads off the obscene number, like she isn’t sealing the fate of your family home, the dream your parents have worked their whole lives for to pass down to you—all wasted on a backed mortgage that your parents took out on the farm when you were born.

The full circle indicates that losing your family’s livelihood was your fault, from start to finish. You didn’t make it in time. All your hard work, and you’re still going to lose it.

“Is that everything, ma’am?”

Click

You drop the phone and sob into your arms, your whole body shaking and heaving with every sharp inhale. In your best attempt to keep quiet, you attract the attention of the one person you long to keep this from, your sweet, well meaning mom.

She’s soft spoken when she soothes you, rubs your back while you dry up your tears against her chest and she doesn’t ask why, just kisses your forehead and smiles one of those sweet sweet smiles at you and says, “We’ll get through this, Honey, don’t you worry about that. We’ll figure this out together.”

And you believe her, enough to reel in your hiccups, enough to ease your searing tears. “Why don’t you take a break from work, Melly gets here soon, yeah? You got everything you girls need?”

You smile at her, thankful for her ability to distract you from the things that keep you up at night. She knows you better than anyone, she’s your best friend. “Maybe we can stop at the store after we get her, but we gotta leave soon—“ you check the time, one hour until her plane touches down in Jackson and it takes forty five minutes to get there alone.

“Actually Honey, about that…I can't go with you. I’m not feeling up to it and I thought I would whip up dinner for you girls. But I got someone to go with you,”

You stand up from the chair and put the papers back into the envelope. “Mom, I really can go alone, I drove all the way here—“ she stops you with a quiet scuff. “You got stuck in the snow and Joel had to pull you out.” Joel, that son of a bitch…that big, sexy cowboy son of a bitch who left you in the snow. Who huffs and puffs and walks around like the sweatiest, filthiest, most delicious version of every nasty fantasy you’ve ever had. Of course she would drag him into this, maybe she’s the one who’s after the help.

“Speak of the devil,” she has this knowing look when her gaze travels past you to the doorway of the dining room. You glance over your shoulder to find yourself smack dab in the middle of one of those filthy dreams, dressed in green plaid and his brown Carhartt jacket, his black cowboy hat resting atop his head with curls peeking out of the sides, kissing the tips of his ears. His beard has grown out a tad too, making him look soft all over, scruffy and curly with a dimpled smile. The sight of him comes with a sudden rush of soothing comfort, warm eyes that make you feel safe, hidden in the shadows of his hat.

“Heard I was takin’ you somewhere?” He’s broad and sturdy, with a slight sheen of sweat on the peaks of his collarbones under his shirt. Under his beard, his neck is taught and his muscles are strained, his pulse visible beneath his skin despite his cool composure. If you know Joel, he did a days worth of work this morning to clear his schedule for the rest of the afternoon. He probably smells like sweat and dirt, like horses and leather under all that damn southern charm he possesses.

Actually, you can take me anywhere. On the couch, in my room, hell—in the glow of a fridge light.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to bite off your involuntary groan, shooting your mom a sharp look. She may play coy, might act like she's this innocent and sweet, cookie baking, laundry folding, house making mom who knows no better, but you see what she’s really up to. How she hides behind her little false oblivion, a facade she usually only uses for good. This doesn’t feel like it was for the greater good.

“You—“ you sneer at her quietly and she smiles with a “Not sure what you mean dear, but you better get a move on. I have to get dinner in the oven!” She scurries out of the room and into the next, letting the door swing closed behind her. Joel remains in the same spot, one shoulder pressed against the white wood frame of the old door, his muddy boots on the dark hardwood floors. Your eyes drag up the rest of him, his pants are tight in the middle, hugging his hips and probably just barely restraining what lays below the dark blue denim. There's a soft curve to his belly, made apparent when his arms cross over his chest and pull his shirt tight against his front.

His belly looks so damn soft. So fucking round and bite-able. A few more clicks up, his chest nearly bulging out of the buttons of the flannel. The buttons hang on for dear life, but you’re afraid if he flexes, they will scatter to the floor with your resolve.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. “Doin’ alright there, darlin’?” If his presence wasn’t enough, the bourbony southern drawl and the way he cocks his hip makes your thighs squeeze together involuntarily. “Yeah—Yep, just need to get dressed and I’ll be ready.” You’re still in a big sleep shirt, have been all morning because work for you doesn’t require pants half of the time. When you start to breeze past, his eyes drop to the exposed skin of your thighs.

“Been wonderin’…” he stops you with a big hand, pressed against your sternum when you try to pass by his solid form. He’s still faced the opposite direction than your body, only his head turns to look down at you, gone still beneath his stern fingertips. “If you always walk around naked under these shirts, or if you’re wearin’ somethin’ under there when mom and dad are ‘round?”

His eyes flick back to the door leading into the kitchen, where your mother is currently hiding from your scowl, then back down to the hem of your oversized shirt. The hand on your ribs shifts when you haul in a deep, stuttering breath. It slips a few inches lower, the tips of his thick fingers dipping into the flesh of your stomach, just below your belly button. He’s so close and so fucking firm where he holds you in place.

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself, Cowboy?”

You challenge him back and you swear he stops breathing beside you. He meets your dare with a low growl, reverberating inside his rib cage like a shout in a vast canyon. What the hell is happening right now, did he hit his head or something? Is he finally getting the fucking hint? How desperately you want him to have his way with you? Then again, the last time he saw you dressed like this, you were bent over, knowingly showing off everything you had to offer, the place you wanted him most, while you listened to the guttural sounds leaving the unsuspecting man behind you. You aren’t going to complain about the sudden shift in his attention, hell no—you’ll soak in what you can get from the leery cowboy.

You hardly register the way he moves until he leans forward and warm fingertips graze the skin just under your ass. He’s looking when he lifts the shirt all the way up to your tailbone slowly, covered by smooth black satin, a thong that hugs your hips but leaves your cheeks exposed to his greedy sight. His eyes are everywhere, your thighs and the curve of your bare behind. His fingers dip just under the black satin band on your hip, his expression is just shy of a devoted man as he drinks in the contrasting sensation of your smooth skin and the silky material.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, letting his hand slip from your panties to travel back down, unsure fingers tracing along the crease of your ass, curling under your cheek when he gets to the bottom. It’s the softest touch you’ve ever felt, full of admiration and barely restrained desire. It sets your skin on fire, radiating behind your eyelids. “Those are…damn pretty, sugar…but you better go get yourself ready, before you’re late.” His hands slip away from you completely and he turns in the direction of the door, already on his way out before you even fully process what just happened. What flipped inside of Joel on a random Wednesday afternoon in late February?

He leaves with a satisfied smirk with intentions of starting the truck while you stammer against the doorway and remind yourself to breathe. When the front door closes behind him, you lean against the wood he was just propped against, hoping his heat will still linger there. He instigated something, a secret whisper of want, the thought makes a grin break out from one side of your face to the other, pulling your cheeks tight. He wants you.

You get dressed with that same stupid grin plastered on your face. You shift through your closet a few times, but you keep falling back on the same outfit. A pair of flared jeans, light in color with stitch work on the sides. With a pair of boots, they make your ass look like a dream—just what you are going for, just so you can rile Joel further. You find a tight top and a thick wool flannel to throw over it, before tracking back down the stairs to the front door.

It’s the rush of adrenaline that shocks the agony from your brain, but the moment you bound down the front steps to his waiting truck, the door already propped open, you pause.

You stop at the foot of the stairs and turn, looking up the steps you’ve known your entire life, the screen door you’ve spent numerous summers swinging in and out of. The porch you’ve watched storms roll in from, the porch swing where you had your first kiss. All this and…your heart sinks. When you turn back towards the running chevy, Joel is staring back at you, his once knowing smirk traded in for a furrow of concern on his handsome features.

You climb into the passenger seat and fasten your seatbelt while Joel puts the truck in gear and pulls away from the house.

There’s a long stretch of road that passes in near silence, before it’s you who just can’t take it anymore. Joel, sweet fucking Joel sat beside you, respecting your emotions and your boundaries once again. “Ranch is ‘bout to be foreclosed.” You tell him. Once it’s spoken aloud, you realize just how imminent your family’s demise really is. How quickly you are going to lose everything, watch your parents walk away with no retirement and nothing to show for themselves, for generations of hard work.

You expect something, questions about how you know, how long you have, if there's anything he can do to help you, but the questions never come. Instead, Joel reaches over and presses his fingers into the latch on your buckle, pulling it off of you with one click.

“C’mere, sweet girl.” His tone is low, soft enough to not interrupt your thoughts, but enough to have you drawing across the bench seat and slipping under his sturdy arm while he drives. He keeps you tucked in close beside him, his hand trailing up and down your arm to ease out the pain residing in your veins. He takes one glance down at you and leans forward, his lips connecting with the crown of your head. “We’ll get through it. We ain’t goin’ down without a hell of a fight.”

We

We

Because after the years you’ve spent away from this place, Joel has come to think of the Rising Sun ranch as his home just as much as it is yours. He’d raised every one of the cattle on that ranch, he’s worked day and night to ensure its survival, he’s lost sleep and nearly limbs fighting to keep them afloat while you were gone. This is his home, his fight right alongside yours. Finally, the weight seems to ease up, shouldered by Joel's sense of responsibility for your family’s livelihood.

Beside you, he’s solid and warm, he’s alive and overflowing with strength, enough to spare, for something to cling to. You turn your head and bury your face in his shoulder, covering yourself in the shield of protection he has to offer, sturdy, devoted support that makes you feel lightheaded with security. He doesn’t push you further, doesn’t prod you for details. He just hangs on, keeps your body tucked in close to his while he drives into town. At some point, the rattling of the old truck along patchy highway roads lulls you into sleep with your head against his shoulder and one leg across his lap.

Joel, with all the strength he can muster—holds on tight.

“Hey,” your senses come rushing back when the truck comes to a stop and your warm pillow jostles under your head. You lift up off his weight a little and glance at him through a sleepy gaze, a soft smile present on his lips. “As much as I like you droolin’ all over me…” he gestures to wet stain on his flannel. “Think your friends plane lands soon, don’t want you to miss it.”

You get yourself together enough to look out the window. Joel parked right outside of baggage claim at Jacksons little airport and his arm still sits tightly around your shoulders. A deep sigh sets in to your bones and you lean against him for just a moment longer to soak in the warmth. “Hey, look at me, darlin’,” his hand wraps around your chin gently, coaxing your eyes up to his. “Don’t think about the ranch, at least till the week is over. Ain’t nothin’ you can do right now, so don’t let it ruin your birthday. Everythin’s gonna be alright.” His words trail off when a broad thumb swipes across the underside of your bottom lip, his gaze caught in yours so tightly you’re half sure the jaws of life couldn’t draw you apart. He breaks out into a grin and heaves a shallow laugh. “Had a little drool there.”

The little laugh that bubbles up in you breaks the eye contact and Joel shuts off the truck, untucking you from his arm. You check the time for safe measures, there's still a few more minutes before the plane lands and she still has to make it out the gates.

“Joel?” He’s fiddling with his key chain, adjusting a few backwards keys. “Hmm?” He barely makes eye contact—is he embarrassed? From holding you while you slept? “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me—for my family while I’ve been gone. I can't think of a way to…repay you for everything.”

Joel glances over at you and something flashes in his brown eyes, something that looks like discomfort and shame. He takes a sharp breath in and squeezes his knuckles around the keys. “I didn’t do it all selflessly…please don’t take this wrong. I haven’t felt a sense of belonging in years. Me and Tommy have been drifting since I was twenty eight, working on one ranch after another. We’d stick around a town for six months and he’d get antsy, stir up trouble and we’d have to hit the road again.”

He brings his hand up to his mouth and chews on the corner of his thumb. He’s anxious, you can tell by the way his eyes flitter to you then away quickly. “I’ve covered his ass more times than I can count because I don’t know if I’ll be the same if I have to leave here. It feels fuckin—selfish, like I’m usin’ your folks. M’gettin’ old, my bones are tired and all I want is to…stop. Slow down for once in my life. I’ve never been more at peace than I am here, with your parents and the ranch. I was doin’ so good, gettin’ my mind right, hatin’ myself a little less and then—“ he trails off with a distant look in his eyes.

And then…what? What’s caused Joel to lose that sense of peace and stability? “What happened?” You sink back in the bench seat, run your fingers along the stitched pattern of color adorning the warn padding. “S’big snow storm came in…I was comin’ back from town because I took Tommy to pick up flowers. He’d been a real asshole to a sweet lady who didn’t deserve it. Was pissed off he was smokin’ in the truck, pissed he was jeopardizin’ our home again, when we see this little car stuck in the embankment, met this—real pretty girl, and she…” he sneaks a glance over at you, but he’s doing his best to find anywhere, anything else to look at. Cars passing by, the sun reflecting off the bright white paint on the cross walk. The older woman in-front of you, helping what looks like her daughter, load her luggage into the trunk.

“She got under my skin and I was flustered for the first time in a really long time. Kinda freaked me out—and then I left here there—‘cuz I was scared shitless and nothin’s ever been the same since. Sorta think she hates my guts half the time for it.”

There's this unsettling silence in the cab, Joel's nerves and his admission hanging in the air between you. He’s never ever been this vulnerable and honest with you before. You’ve talked to him more times than you can count now, a meaningless little conversation where you found everything you needed to change your mind about him. But he’s never opened himself up like he was right now, in the damn pick up line of the Jackson airport.

“Joel I…I already forgave you for that.” You forgave him for that when he gave you your necklace for Christmas. You forgave him when he carried a newborn calf half a mile through a snowstorm for you. You forgave him when you came down the stairs to him in that damn cowboy hat.

You forgave him when he came back for you and looked at you with those pretty brown eyes.

“What?” He looks over at you and you hold onto the eye contact for as long as you possibly can. “I don’t hate you. Furthest thing from it actually—I do hate how much you avoid me. Like I’m going to bite your head off any second—“ he snorts, cracks a white smile at you and his eyes crinkle at the sides, making your stomach flutter, little blue butterflies soaring through your abdomen. “You do bite my head off—often.”

Okay—maybe he’s a little right, maybe you let it get too far a few times, spent too many afternoons angry at his distaste for you, when all you wanted was a taste of him. “Well, I’m sorry…for all the things I’ve said to you, the things I’ve called you. But I’m not upset about that anymore. I forgave you for that a long time ago. You’ve already made up for it a million times, Joel.”

He’s grinning at you like you just told him he won the fucking lottery, his nervous hands drumming a absent tune against the steering wheel. He’s looking at you like it’s the first time you’ve ever met him, his eyes shining with mirth and admiration. “Think…you could give this ol’ cowboy another shot?” That nervous little shake of his jaw, the tick in his voice and the hopefulness in his eyes is enough to break anyone, but you? You’re so lost on him you never want to find your way back. Throw away the maps, toss the keys somewhere you’ll never find them again—you never want to go anywhere else in the world. Another shot? You’d give him all of them.

“Pretend you’ve never met me before.”

He blinks, cocks an eyebrow and makes a face of confusion at you. “I’ve never met you?” You nod, turn your whole body to face him on the bench seat of his old beat up chevy. “Like it’s the first time we’ve met. I’m Hank's daughter and you’re picking me up from the airport to take me home for the first time in years. We’ve never met. Try again, shoot your shot, cowboy.”

You’d like to imagine that's how it went—your mom and dad were too busy to come get you and you decided to fly because you knew your little car wouldn’t make it. They send Joel, because he’s trustworthy and punctual. They know he’ll treat their daughter with respect, they trust that he’ll use his better judgment, because they know he’s a good man. You know that under that rough, hard exterior is an anxious man searching for belonging, a good man.

Joel takes a deep breath, lets his mind drift out the window before he turns it back to you with a charming smile, one you’ve never been on the receiving end of. It’s smoldering, flirtatious—everything you imagined Joel to be after all those years of pinning after a man you’ve never laid eyes on. A Joel you’ve never met and desperately need to get to know better. “Prodigy daughter finally returns,” his drawl is thick and his eyes rake over you once, twice, before settling on your own. “I’m Joel.”

You giggle—rightfully so, because this Joel? This Joel is all quick wit and chivalry. You fake introduce yourself back, your grin mirroring his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Joel.”

“Pleasure is…all mine, darlin’.”

You could stare at him forever with that damn goofy smile on his face. “Anyone ever tell you—you look good in this?” You tell him, reaching up to flick the brim of his hat, but it stays firmly in place despite your efforts. He snorts and snaps up to catch your wrist, holding onto it tightly in his big hand. “S’funny, I was just thinkin’ about how good you’d look in my hat.” His thumb circles the inside of your wrist slowly,’ pushing down the fabric of your sleeve with the effort. Slowly, he draws your appendage closer, till his mouth hovers just above your skin. His eyes are like witnessing something tragic, so devastating you can't bring yourself to look away.

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his lips connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck. There’s an image you’ll never get out of your mind—your hands on his sweaty chest, the brim of his hat falling in front of your eyes while you try to keep it in place, despite the way you ride him—

“Joel—Jesus, you can’t just—“

He breaks out into a chest filled laugh, his eyes slip close and his head falls back. His whole body responds to the way he laughs, his legs kick up, his chest heaves and his belly bounces. He’s a menace, a damn trouble starter—he makes you see hearts around his head and a sparkle in his eyes you’re sure you’re imagining. He calms his laugh down with a few deep breaths, a grin still plastered on his handsome face. “What can I say? I’m really bad at first impressions.”

He is, but it doesn’t bother you like it used to. Joel isn’t and never will be the perfect man you’d envisioned. He’ll never be the Joel you’d made up in your head for so long, because that Joel was made solely for you, from your interpretation of a man who’s perfect for you in every way. But that Joel and the one in front of you are two vastly different people—this Joel is gruff at times, opinionated and flawed. He wasn’t made perfect for you, but you find that the things that make him the least like the Joel in your mind—are the things that you like most about him. He’s gruff, but he’s punctual and takes no shit. He’s opinionated, but he’s wise about life, he’s earned the right to voice his beliefs. He’s flawed—he has crows feet by his kind eyes, graying curls and weathered hands—but it’s his flaws that entice you to learn more about him. They make him real in front of you instead of a made up, faceless man in your dreams.

Your phone chimes in your pocket and it sucks you from the void in the cab of this old truck, away from Joel's charming smile and his burning hand on your wrist. He pulls away and the moment dissipates into dust on the dashboard.

Melly: I just got my bag, headed out now!

“Be right back,” you slip out the door with a firm shut and try your hardest not to glance back at the man in the cab of that blue and white truck.

Finding Melly is easy, she sticks out like a sore thumb with her blonde hair and too-blessed chest. What did she do in a past life for tits like that, anyways?

She comes out the double doors and jogs to you with a grin your wearing on your own face. “Oh my gosh!” She squeals, finally getting close enough to throw your arms around each other. It’s been months since you’ve seen each other after spending everyday together for the last two years. You tumble around together in your hug for a few minutes before she pulls back to look you over, in a pair of flared jeans and boots. “Oh man, the country got you.” She jokes, faking a deflated sigh. “Would you fuck off?” She laughs menacingly, slinging her bag over her shoulder for more security. “Let me guess, you’re still trying to drive that cowboy crazy, right?”

With a deep eye roll, you finally look back at the truck. He’s looking right back at you, an easy smile on his lips when your eyes connect. You look back to your best friend and make a face. “He uhm…he actually drove me…to come get you. He’s in the truck, please be nice to him, okay?” She sneers and you know she means trouble when you help her with her things on her way to the truck.

“Please don’t fucking embarrass me, I swear dude—“ Mel gives you a little shove and huffs a laugh when you put her suitcase in the bed of the pickup. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin your shot with the old dude.” She looks around you, eyeing him from outside of the truck without his knowledge. “Holy shit, dude he’s hot. He’s like, stupid hot.”

You look over at him too and like he can feel your eyes on him, he looks over his shoulder, smiles warmly and you know it—

Know you’re fucked.

“Not a word.” Mel throws her hands up innocently and follows your lead when you open the door of the truck and climb in the middle, sliding in right beside Joel, reclaiming the space you’d taken up on your way here.

The whole drive back to the ranch, your body is on fire along the parts that connect to Joel, pressed so close you’re afraid you might melt into him.

Two days pass in a blur.

You spend a lot of time with Mel, catching up on how she's been doing since graduating, how she likes work—she’s a wildlife biologist in Colorado, who’s still learning the ropes of the job but she’s never been more excited to be a part of something. You don’t tell her about the ranch for a good reason, but she still asks and doesn’t say anything if she notices the look on your face when you lie to her.

We’ll get through it

You love spending time with her, but you don’t see a lot of Joel besides meals. He’s pleasant and soft, smiling at you like he’s never worn a frown on that handsome face. He sits too close at dinner, draws your gaze in far too many times for it to be an accident. It’s not anymore but it’s still so damn hard to make yourself believe that this isn’t just a fleeting moment—temptation breathing life into you for the first time in years, teasing you with possibilities.

He makes you burn but he doesn’t push further, doesn’t chase that desire down its narrowing path. It’s so close—you’re so close to finally making him yours.

When your birthday rolls around, he’s nowhere to be seen at breakfast. When you head out to the stables, the horses have already been fed and there's no trace of the man who plagues your every waking moment. The truck is gone and the tire-tracks in the driveway look old, like he’s been gone for hours. It’s not that he’s required to see you on your birthday, but you thought things were going to change. You thought that re-meeting him in the truck at the airport would restart everything, he’d realize you want him around more than the ranch hand who got under your skin and made you desperate for his attention. It feels naive, to watch out the window for his truck for most of the morning, pining after that faded powder blue and rust.

“This is depressing to watch from the outside, you know that right?” Comes Mel’s voice from the other side of your room when you check the window for the first time in the last half hour. She's painting her nails on the chair in your room while you peer through the blinds like he might appear out of thin air without you hearing the rumble of his old chevy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You do your best to defend yourself, stepping away and crossing your arms as you trudge to your bed.

“Don’t play dumb with me, I know you. You’re pacing your room wondering when you’ll see him. You know everyone can see the way you guys look at each other right? When are you guys going to like…kick it up a notch, get in his pants?”

You toss yourself on the fluffy sheets and close your eyes tight, letting your mind wander for a moment. “I don’t know…” what are you going to do, if you cant even see him long enough to get him alone? Tonight is the dance and you were hoping he’d be there, maybe he’d ask you for a dance. You’ve never told a boy in your hometown yes to a dance at this thing, but you’d change that for Joel. If he asked, you’d let him spin you around all night long.

Only problem is, he can’t do that if he’s still avoiding you like you're an illness he can’t afford to catch. “He’s so confusing. One second he acts like…he wants me, the next he’s hiding from me, probably—ugh, I just wish I could get him out of my head if he wants nothing to do with me!”

The room is silent, still for all of five glorious seconds before Mel breaks it. “Does he still run away to jerk off?” You snap your eyes over to her with a sharp glare. “Yes! And he drives me up the fucking wall, dude! All I want is to get my hands on that delicious man and he runs away every time. How am I ever supposed to accomplish anything if I can't even get him alone for five minutes. And every time I do, something happens and ruins it all.”

You can't seem to get a second with him no matter how hard you try. The last two days, he hasn’t been around aside from his work in the morning, a few meals he makes it to in between. If you’re being honest, it's painful to think about the way he’d smiled at you a few days ago and the way he doesn’t have the time of day now.

“If he shows up at that dance tonight, I’m making sure you get your second alone. Now come on, let me help you pick out your dress. He won't know what he’s missing out on.”

By the time you’re headed out the door for town, Joel is still nowhere in sight. You thought you’d heard his truck for a moment earlier, but when you’d peered out the window a few minutes later, there was no blue chevy in the driveway. No cowboy waiting out front for you.

You trudged to the car in your black dress, two slits up the sides where your thighs peak out and a back so low your half afraid your ass is going to fall out of the damn thing. You do your best to hold it up when you walk through the dirt, a pair of knee high red cowgirl boots are the only thing saving you from the mud right now.

Melly isn’t far behind, but she's not dressed in anything nearly as revealing as you. She’s making friends with Tommy who surprisingly hasn’t tried to flirt yet and claims to have no idea where his older brother has disappeared to. He’s endearing, but you know he’s playing for both sides here, hiding something for his brother.

On the drive into town, your parents take your dads truck, leaving you, Mel and Tommy in your car. When you get about half way, you finally break and ask if Tommy has seen Joel, if he knows if he’s coming. Tommy shrugs in the rearview mirror with a smile.

“I’m sure we’ll see ‘em.” Is the only answer you get.

It doesn’t happen for hours.

Hours of forcing a smile through mind numbing conversation with people you haven’t seen in years. The same old how have you been in the big city? and you tell them it was hard work and commitment. They ask no plans for the future? like you’re doomed without a ring on your hand at your age. You keep your head up through every comment, back handed compliment and pick up line that passes you by for a whole fucking hour on the dance floor alone.

“I think I want to go home soon. I’m having the worst fucking time, my feet are killing me and I think my eyelash is falling off.” Your whining and limping, faking distress and discomfort for any shot to get the fuck out of here, go home and maybe you can chance a run in with Joel.

Maybe he’s coming in from the north pasture where he’s probably been hiding all day. He’d be covered in muck and sweat, dirt clinging to the creases in his face. He’d be tired and worn out, vulnerable to the way you’d take advantage of his weakened restraint. “You sure you don’t want to stay a few minutes longer?” Melly muses beside you sipping on a tall glass of tequila on ice, watching the small town’s people converse and dance, laugh and gather together under the low string lighting.

You take a long drag of the drink in your own hand, your third of the night that's finally starting to warm your insides. It’s not enough to ease the ache of wishing Joel would appear. You know he won't, there's only a few hours left and people are starting to get tipsy. “I think you might want to rethink that…the devil himself just walked in, twelve o’clock.”

You look up at her, in a pretty green dress with curly hair framing her face. She’s smirking over your shoulder at something—or someone behind you. You turn the rest of the way around and swear you’re in the middle of one of those movie scenes.

The ones where the love interest walks in and sexy rock plays while they walk in slow motion. With wind blowing this hair back even though they are inside. Joel fucking Miller was doing exactly that at this very minute, striding through the hall in his cowboy hat and a black button down, dark wash jeans and his boots. He looks like a wet dream standing there, looking a little bit lost and so damn handsome. Under his hat, you can see that his hair is slicked back and he looks clean like he’d gone home and gotten ready.

He’s here.

“Oh he looks…if you don’t ask him to dance, I will. He’s hot.” You wish you could explain to her that Joel is more than that, that he’s funny and endearing, that he’s honorable and loyal to a fault. He’s so many more things than just hot. You swivel around as he makes his way through the crowd, he’s bound to find you and you don’t want him to spot you gawking at him. “Do I look okay? Fuck he looks so good—is my hair alright?” You try to do a quick pat down but Melly grabs your hand with a smile. “You look fine. He’s not going to know what hit him, I promise—but he’s coming this way so whatever you do, chill out.”

She sets her drink on the tall table, the ones that adorn the outside of the dance floor for people who want to mingle. You take a long drink of yours and move to set it down when someone clears their throat behind you. The drink hits the table and you turn slowly, till you rotate around to face him completely. He’s even more devastating up close with pearl snap buttons on his shirt, his arms nearly bulging out of the damn thing. His facial hair looks shorter, his eyes shimmering with reflected light.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’, standin’ here all by herself on her birthday?” He grins at you and takes another step forward. “Guess I’m just waiting for the right cowboy to ask me for a dance.” You tease back, reaching out for him once he’s close enough for you to touch. You start at his stomach, soft under his dress shirt. When your hands make contact, a visible shiver runs through Joel.

There’s suddenly two more hands to join the party, one high up on your waist while the other curves around low on your hip, his digits digging into the top of your ass. “I’ll be real’ honest with you here, doll—askin’ you for a dance is the only reason I came tonight.” He smells good for once, usually you catch a hint of his shower under the smell of dirt and manure, a faintness of his once clean skin. Now, it’s all you can focus on—how he’d taste like his soap, smooth and clean, every part of him reachable by your watering mouth. “Well, Cowboy…go on.” Your hands slip up his chest and over his broad shoulders, like you’ve imagined yourself doing a thousand times. He’s responsive, lowers his shoulders so you fit along him perfectly.

“Would ya make this old man's day, let me have a dance?” His hand drops lower, along the side of your thigh until he can dig them into the curve under your ass. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to hoist you up, drag you into that vice-like grip you want to be at the mercy of every day of your life. “Can’t get me any closer, Joel.” You giggle, hiding your face against his neck. He smells like after shave and a little like whiskey. “I thought you were giving up drinking?” You nip at his jaw lightly, just to listen to the way he rumbles against you.

“I’m—tryin’ to keep my cool here, but you look fucking incredible tonight. Needed a little courage to walk up to you, s’all.” He leans back slightly, looking down at the way your dress squeezes your tits together, nearly pouring out of the black satin. “Fucking…gorgeous in this thing, you know that? You knew how sexy this little thing was, didn’t you?” He pulls at the slit that exposes your thighs, raking it up a little higher, until he can get a handful of bare skin. He’s not wrong—you’d put the dress on and thought about all the ways it would drive Joel crazy if he saw you in it.

“You better take me dancing before you take this off of me.” The dance around you has started to fade away. Melly took her cue to go and has started to make conversation elsewhere. “With pleasure, darlin’.”

Joel all but carries you to the middle of the dance floor before you notice his obvious nervous ticks, the shake of his hands and the way he’s fighting the urge to gnaw on his thumb. He’s anxious despite his obvious attempt at faking composure. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders again, he stammers. “Need to tell you somethin’.” His voice is a little shaky on the inhale when his hands find your waist again. “I went into town last week, there’s this dance studio on sixth street and I thought, maybe I could trade work for someone to…teach me how to use my damn feet.” For added flair, he reels away from you and spins you once before drawing you back into his chest as he moves. “So, I take it someone taught you?”

The song changes, something slow, romantic and sweet that couples join in around you, swaying together around the dance floor. “Lady said she’d been lookin’ for someone to replace the dance floor. Told her I just wanted to learn to dance, so I’d stand a chance against the other schmucks askin’ you.” He dances you around for a few more moments, pulling out all the stops—every new move he learned. Was that why he was gone so much, disappearing every time you turned around? He was replacing a damn floor and learning how to dance, all for you?

“Joel—“ you start, trying to grab ahold of him for long enough to make him still. “There's somethin’ else,” he dips you back and your insides flutter, looking up at him with those big brown hopeful eyes. He stands you up right again and the dancing slows to a stop, right there in the middle of the dance hall. You’re sure the towns eyes are on you, your mom and dad, friends from high school, older people you’ve been around your entire life. “She wouldn’t let me leave without payin’ me for it, said dancin’ lessons don’t cost that much after all.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a envelope, sealed tight with a number written on the front.

“Ranch needs it a whole hell of a lot more than I do. S’just two grand, but I’ve found a few other odd jobs, so there will be more comin’, but it’s a start—“ your hand clasps over his clutching the envelope. You push his hand down, stepping forward until you're nearly standing on his own feet. “Joel Miller…are you going to stand there all night running your mouth, or are you going to kiss me?” This endearing man, this big, expressive cowboy who can’t seem to get anything right in his own eyes, but everything right in yours.

He chuckles, the hand not holding the envelope finds the side of your face, sliding his thumb along the apple of your cheek. He’s not the one to make the first move after all—after all the leading him towards it, the teasing and the showmanship. It’s you that stands up high on your tiptoes and drags him the rest of the way in, until his mouth finds yours in the lull of the dance hall, surrounded by swaying bodies and sweet music.

He sucks in a breath through his nose and his mouth opens, slots your lips between his when he finally, fucking finally gives all the way in. It’s sweet, chaste while you stand there, smack dab in the middle of the floor. Joel stuffs the envelope back into his pocket and his other hand finds your body again, yanking until you're flushed against him, digging your hands into his shoulders when his tongue licks along the seam of your mouth, begging to be let into the slick heat. What was slow and steady, soon becomes frantic, hot and needy. Your fingers tug at the buttons of his shirt and someone shoots off a whistle from across the room, enough to have you reeling apart. Joel's mouth is red, his lips swollen and shiny from your spit.

“You want to get out of here?”

Yes. Fucking hell yes you wanted to, you’ve wanted to all damn night, but with Joel standing in front of you, a strained tent in his dark jeans, it’s all you can think about. Instead of a response, you grab him by his hand and all but drag him out the back doors towards the parking lot. It's quiet, dark—the dance isn’t even close to being over so there’s next to no one in the parking lot.

You never stood a chance, looking back on this moment right here. You never would have stood a chance, with Joel’s ragged breathing behind you when he closes the door tight behind him.

One look at his wild eyes and parted lips, you should have known how this night was going to end.

Joel was desperate. He needed you, needed to touch you every second of his day. He thought about you every second he spent awake and he dreamt of you all night long. When he’d heard about the dance, he wanted to kick himself for not learning sooner. Finding the dance studio was a fluke, learning to dance was a damn nightmare and the floor wasn’t much better, but he’d do it all again for another opportunity to press you up against the brick wall with your thighs pressed apart and his hips slotted between them while he all but devoured your mouth.

He’s ruthless, relentless as he drags your bottom lip between his teeth. You—you can't keep your sounds to yourself, hiking your legs up higher around his waist when he presses in closer. He can feel himself straining through his jeans, can feel the heat of your core against his painfully hard cock. He’d take you right fucking here if you let him. “Joel—Joel,” your hips roll down to meet his uncontrollable press forward. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” His movements are hurried and frantic, like this might be the only shot he has to get his hands on you. His mouth finds your jaw and he bites down on your flesh, relishing in the salty taste of sweat from dancing, the tang of your perfume and the sweet taste of your skin. It’s your sharp whine that gets him in motion again, his stilled teeth still hanging on to your delicate jaw. “Touch me, please—please, touch me.”

In a scurry, he drops his hand between your bodies, pushing the fabric of your dress to the side so his fingertips can work under the elastic of your panties, past the soaked material to the place he’s always longed to touch, always wondered what it would feel like.

And you are fucking drenched under his exploring digits. He slips them through your lips, your slick already dripping down his knuckles when he finds your clit and presses the pad of his thumb to it, swirling it around in a swift motion. Your head falls back and your mouth hangs open, a silent scream on your parted lips.

“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” He groans when your thighs tremble against him, trying to tighten up around his waist where he has you pinned to the cold wall. His thumb keeps its rhythm while his fingers dip lower, making him breathless at how easily your body draws those fingers in. You come apart like you were meant to do just that, your body rapidly chasing him towards the brink. If he hadn’t gotten himself off twice today, he’s sure he’d already have cum in his pants from just this. “Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum, please!” Your voice is wrecked.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your chest heaving in that pretty little dress—your tits are about to bust out of the damn thing. He picks up the pace, slams his fingers into your heat and curls them while his thumb makes quick work of your clit. It’s been so long since he touched a woman, but he’ll never forget the signs.

You are dangerously, furiously close in mere minutes alone. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.” You cry out sharply and he nearly covers your mouth with his other hand, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he revels in the pulse of your pussy on his fingers, the way you grind down against him while your body grasps for release. It comes to you with a whole body shake, a ragged gasp of his name and his tongue on your jugular.

When he pulls his hand free, it’s with a wet sound that makes his gut tighten and his knees weak. He has to get you somewhere more secluded, away from the prying eyes of the town folks. “Wunna taste you,” he growls lowly, dragging you away from the building despite the way you stumble, the lightheadedness from cuming on his fingers.

His truck is parked in the back for lack of a better spot, due to his tardiness. He’ll thank his lucky stars for it later, if he can remind himself of it. Now, he slings the door open and nearly throws you down on the bench seat. “C’mere, girl.” He’s running out of will power and common sense, the only thing driving his mind right now is sheer want, carnal desire to get his mouth all over what he’s already ruined. He’s lucky for the part of his brain that slips off his hat and sets it on the dashboard. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.”

His hands find the backs of your knees and he yanks you to the edge of the seat. At this angle, he can spread you out and kneel beside the truck, let you use the door jam to rest your foot on. When your eyes find him, he thinks you’re just as far gone as he is, blinded to the world unfolding around you, to rubber hitting asphalt nearby.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” He pushes your dress up with your hurried help, both of you desperately trying to rid you of your clothes as quickly as possible. The second he has your panties dangling between his finger tips, he pushes his head between your spread legs and buries himself under your dress.

The thing about Joel is, he’s always been too good at this. Half the time, it's the only reason women stick around. It must have been the only reason he got his ex wife to marry him.

He’s abandoned his shame and better judgment. He’s starved, famished for a taste of you. This man, this unhinged version of Joel eats pussy like he’s going to die without it. From the very second his mouth finds your center, he’s lost to your immodest cries, your mindless begging for him to keep going, never stop, never stop, Joel—please. He opens his mouth wide, slops his tongue through your folds like he’s trying to lick every drop from your sensitive skin. He pulls away for a breath and his eyes bounce up to meet yours, transfixed on his relentless attack. “Wunna split this little pussy open on me,” he says, muffled against your soft mound. He takes another long lap and moans at the heady taste of you on his greedy tongue.

“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” your head tips back and he pulls his mouth away completely. “You got what, baby, use your words.”

Your body clenches on nothing and his eyes track the movement with a low rumble. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”

You’d thought about this, about him. You’d thought about him while fucking yourself on a toy you’d bought to train yourself.

He doesn’t have the words to express the way it makes his chest tighten, so he presses his face between your thighs again and gets back to work, drawing out every secret you can no longer hold onto, how good he makes you feel, how hot and devastating his tongue is—how the sound of a car pulling up doesn’t even register until—

“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”

You should have known.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #51] Space

warnings: okay this one is like.. a lot. Return of the ajummas, very very very cute date night waaaaa, kook is just the cutest at the start of this one :(, a little under the stars smut (starluvrs doing what they do best!!) oral (m), rimming (m), doggy, lovely stuff! An attempt at communication….a fail at communication…. Oh no! Arguments :( friends to the rescue!!! Namseok say hi! Enter stage left: the red witch, dionysus!, the most iconic ‘chess’ of the entire story, waaaa

notes: i just love how the bd headers are like lil time capsules of what was happening at the time I was writing hehe. this one is just over 25k, sorryyy!! only 2 chapters tonight but 35k worth!! and a massive plot moment hehe

wc: 25K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

The air in May is lighter. Free of the frigid spring temperatures, summer is on the precipice, with a warmth you've not felt for quite some time.

Though you attribute it to the ever-changing seasons, you know that this warmth would be wrapped around you regardless of the time of year – for you're wearing Jeongguk's shirt. The scent of his aftershave lingers, and each subtle wave of the aroma feels like a small kiss to your cheek; a reminder of what you are. Who he is to you.

"So he's your boyfriend?" Minsu, one of the elderly ladies adorned in floral print gilets, sitting on their usual bench outside the CU, asks.

"Well," you inhale a little air between your teeth. "Not exactly."

There are a few groans of disbelief, heads shaking.

"Kids these days."

"Why would he not be your boyfriend?"

"Because!" you laugh, thinking that the word alone is enough of answer, but knowing they'll never accept it. "It's not that simple. There are rules and expectations and-"

"Excuses! Excuses!" Minsu makes sure to interject.

And perhaps they're right. Perhaps these are thinly veiled excuses for Jeongguk, because you don't want him to lose favour. Don't want anyone to think negatively of him.

They've been listening to you babble on about Jeongguk for the past half an hour, having caught you on a convenience store run. You'd only gone to pick up a snack. Are dressed down in one of his shirts and a pair of leggings. Didn't intend on seeing anyone – but the second they clocked you, you knew you'd be busy for the better part of an hour. The silver chain around your neck is hidden between the cotton of the shirt, your bird resting prettily just above your heart. Right where it belongs. 

Occasionally, you reach up to twiddle with it a little absentmindedly.

Though she doesn't mention it, Minsu notices how you touch it whenever your replies get a little scattered. Anxious. You're self-soothing, or so it would appear – and using your most prominent reminder of him to do so.

"Not excuses," you insist, a sweet smile on your face. You're not taking their criticisms too seriously, and you know they mean well so why worry about it? If anything, perhaps it's good to hear outside opinions away from your friends. "I just... well, I want him to ask. I don't wanna be the one to do it."

The thing is, their criticisms come from experience. They've given you advice in regards to Jeongguk before, which had proven to be worthwhile. Identified times in which he was being a big old baby, and told you to hold off being reactive – and they were right to do so. You trust their judgement far better than you trust your own.

And so, the next critique makes you feel all out of sync and uneasy.

"Okay," Jinnae, the most vocal of the group accepts, but then poses a question that will haunt you all week. Will keep you up at night. Have you wondering the exact same thing. "So why hasn't he asked?"

Days without you are hard, or so Jeongguk finds in the week that follows Yoongi's wedding celebrations.

Busy covering shifts that you'd swapped with colleagues in order to keep the wedding weekend empty in your schedule, you've barely had a second to yourself, let alone to spend on Jeongguk.

And either way, it's not like he's been around.

Ring bearer isn't the only recently acquired title of his. He's a house sitter, now, too. Or a cat sitter, whichever you choose to believe needs more looking after while Yoongi and Seoyeon are on their Honeymoon. Japan, then Jeju. Nothing too extravagant or far from home, but far enough that they can forget their lives back home for a little while.

Everyone they meet while on their vacation will only ever know them as a married couple. That's their life now. Forever identifiable as the husband or wife of someone else – and that's precisely how they'd like their lives to be.

Jeongguk envies them, in a way. Desperately wishes his journey to finding a love like that could have been simple. Is embarrassed, in a way, over how long he spent chasing a love that never was. Likes to pretend he lives without regret, but he's got a few – none more so than Hayun. Or at least, how he behaved when she came back into the picture.

Because the regret really isn't about her; it's about you, and how he treated you. Knows he could have done better. Wishes he had.

While the past can't be changed, he likes to think the future isn't pre-destined. Doesn't know much about the stars, but if they have fated him to live this way, he hopes it's not without purpose.

In the city, the sky never gets dark. Not really. Lights of the night markets and neons of the party district keep the place you call home illuminated until the sun rises. Peace and quiet is reserved for the sticks; the area outside of the ancient city walls that once would have belonged to farmers, or those ostracised from high society.

These days, there's a price that comes with country living. You need money if you want the freedom of a slow life while still having access to the city. Thankfully, Yoongi's made a reputable name for himself, and Seoyeon's been equally steady in her career. Good financial decisions have been their strong point for years, and is why they can afford the life they live.

As Jeongguk lays on his back in the Min's living room, a purry Oduun perched prettily on his sternum, he wonders if he'll ever be able to afford such freedom.

Lips pursed, eyes hard, he loses track of how long he wastes pondering it all. His job, his degree, if it was a waste or not, how the fuck he's gonna find another location for the restaurant - if the restaurant is even viable for him, now.

He's not much one for fate. Thinks that if you want something, you have to work hard for it - but damn it , he did work hard, and he still lost.

He thinks of you. How close he came to losing you. Knows that if were to ever lose you, properly, then that would be it. He'd simply lose passion for everything and anything. Thinks without you, his heart would burn out, and then what use is he to anyone?

What use is the nights sky without stars to guide wayward travellers? The moon without a sun?

With a sigh that's so hearty Oduun jumps off him, Jeongguk reaches for his phone. Finds the standard chain of notifications, and a couple of messages from you. Just forwarded videos in your shared DMs, nothing big. The fact that you've been sending him anything at all must mean that work is slow - and is only confirmed when he gets another message pinging through.

You: closing up early x

Just gone nine, it really is early, but if the books are empty and you don't anticipate any walk-ins on weekdays, you have the green light to shut up shop.

He doesn't really give it much thought as he presses the little telephone icon in the corner of your chat. Puts you on speaker, and places his phone down on his chest where Oduun once was.

"Yep?" You answer after only a couple dial tones.

"Two options," Jeongguk states, a smile on his lips thanks to the fact you answered. "Option one: You get the last bus up to Yoongi's neighbourhood, and while you're on the bus, I'll cook dinner. Or, option two: I drive down now and pick you up, and we get takeout on the way back up."

"Are you allowed guests?" You hum through the phone, as if his offers aren't making you feel all giddy inside. If this were to be a video call, you would have angled the camera away from your face, just so he wouldn't be able to see how broad your smile is.

"Better to ask for forgiveness than permission," he grins - but he does have permission. Yoongi had already cleared it - and you know this, because Seoyeon had been sure to send you a message explaining the alarm system, and a couple emergency numbers for while they were away. Your presence wasn't just allowed, it was expected.

"Sounds like trouble waiting to happen."

"You know I like trouble," he purrs. You can picture the serene smile on his pretty lips as he says it, the subtle smirk you're just dying to kiss once more.

"Alright," you say softly. There's a smaller clatter in the background, sounds of you cleaning up the café for the day accenting your words. "I'll go home and grab some things, then get the bus."

"Sure?"

"Sure," you say. "Makes no sense having you drive all the way down."

"I don't mind," he insists, but you shake your head as if he can see.

"It's fine - plus you never cook, and yet you're always bragging about how good you are. Time to put you to the test."

"Alright," he grins down the phone. "You're on."

"It's a date. See you later, Gguk."

"Yeah," he says softly, serenity in his weightless words. "It's a date. See you later, B."

As the line goes dead, and Jeongguk is left to his own thoughts, the smile etched into his lips doesn't face. In fact, there's a buzz akin to a real-life bee in his chest. A bee because of his B. Checks out.

"Ugh," he groans out. Looks across to the midnight black kitty curled up on the sofa. "What are we gonna do, boy?"

Though he knows it was just a turn of phrase, Jeongguk thinks that perhaps tonight really should be a date.

It's been a while since your last one, through no fault of anyone, and he's been holding out until the fifth date to properly make things official. Knows that you both catastrophically failed at the no hooking up thing, and reckons that you should at least have something to celebrate the milestone. Thinks that perhaps it would be apt. A 'normal' thing to happen after a fifth date.

Nothing about you and Jeongguk has ever been remotely normal, and so he wants to give you something that is.

It'll take you just over an hour to reach Yoongi's place if you get the subway then switch over to the bus, but Jeongguk reckons you'll probably get the direct route given the fact you hadn't mentioned the subway at all. Though it's easier, because there are no changes, it does take an extra twenty minutes. Add a little extra clean down time, and the fact you need to run home first, he thinks he's got a safe two hours until you arrive.

Already dark, it'll only be darker by the time you arrive – and it's when he's thinking about the fact he should walk to meet you from the bus stop, that an idea hatches.

"Oh, you genius, Oduun," he exclaims, as if the cat telepathically gave him some sort of direction. Getting to his feet, Jeongguk reaches for his car keys. "You'll be okay here, won't you, boy? Uncle Ggukie's only gonna be twenty minutes. I'll pick you up a treat!"

Ten minutes north of Yoongi's place is a small town. It's still technically within the city boundary, but you'd never think of it as being so. There's not much there – a few schools and a couple hagwons, small-scale offices and some places to get cheap meat but overpriced beer. There is, thankfully, a Daiso on the crossroads in the heart of the town, which should have everything he needs.

He's out of the door and on the road within no time, heart beating a little too fast than is probably healthy for a man as fit as him in his mid-twenties. It's not that he's nervous as such – just excited. Hasn't seen you in a few days. Is learning what the phrase' absence makes the heart grows fonder' truly means.

Parking up a few roads over to avoid paying for a space, Jeongguk checks he's got his wallet, then heads to the store. Head down, quick on his feet, he's got no time to waste. Goes straight up to homewares for a couple of the standard white fuzzy blankets and some handwarmers from the last of the stock from winter. He doubts they'll be used, but gets them just in case. Realistically, Yoongi has everything Jeongguk could possibly need for the little plan he's concocting, but he wants it to be special. Wants to put in a considered effort, because it's important.

By the time he's paying, he's filled up two of the large paper Daiso carrier bags with things. Candles, trinket dishes, a 'My First' telescope from the kids section, and some binoculars from the garden section.

His little shopping trip isn't over yet, though. The mart opposite Daiso is his next stop – meat, and snacks. Not quite a meal, no, but he'll make it work. He grabs whiskey for himself, and some sparkling water to make highballs, then picks up your favourite sparkling wine, 'cause he knows whiskey isn't your favourite. Also nabs a treat for Oduun, as promised.

Hands full, the attendant offers to help carry things to his car, but Jeongguk insists it's fine – though he does drop off the bags in his boot before he heads off to his third and final destination.

To the left of the mart is a small alley that houses a greengrocers and florist. Closing early, the florist leaves some pre-made bouquets with the greengrocers, just so that they don't go to waste. Jeongguk only knows this because Yoongi swears it's a lifesaver whenever Seoyeon is feeling a little down – and so even though he assumes you're perfectly happy, Jeongguk doesn't want to leave anything up to chance.

There's a buzz of old lightbulbs as he enters the greengrocers, a thick metal chain-link curtain keeping unwanted bugs out of the small shop. The lights are cold and a little fluorescent, but he supposes it's needed for a place this.

"Can I help you with anything, love?" A friendly voice of an elderly woman chimes when she notices Jeongguk's perplexed eyes struggle to locate the flowers.

"Uh, the florist – do you have any bouquets left?" He replies immediately, 'cause he's got no time to be dilly-dallying.

Nodding towards the front corner of the shop, she smiles. "Only a few, today."

Jeongguk follows her eyes and is relieved to see four bouquets of mixed flowers sitting in a bucket. "Oh perfect!"

Or at least, they are until he goes to grab them – at which point he frowns again. Sprinkled across all four bouquets are his arch nemesis: white roses.

"Shit," he mutters under his breath – but he's got no other choice. Takes all four bouquets to the counter.

The shallow pool of water the flowers had been standing in has left the stems wet, so the cashier offers to wrap them, but Jeongguk thinks there's no point.

"Actually," he says. "Could I borrow your scissors?"

It's not something customers often ask, but she hands them over regardless. Watches on silently as Jeongguk snips the string tied around the stems, and how he carefully but casuals the roses from the bunches. There's a couple in each bouquet. By the time he's done, he's got enough roses for a small bouquet – which he absolutely does not want.

"Here," Jeongguk smiles, handing them to the woman. Feels the need to explain himself, but is embarrassed by the truth, so says, "My, uh-" He doesn't know what to call you. "She hates roses."

"Well, tell your girlfriend I say thank you," the cashier beams. Never gets flowers from her husband, so she'll gladly accept them from a far-too-young-for-her hunk of a man like Jeongguk. "She's a lucky lady!"

The way he smiles at this before he scurries out is sweet. Bashful, even. "Will do. Thanks."

Flowers tossed down on the front seat, Jeongguk wastes no time getting back to Yoongi's place. Has already lost the best part of an hour and missed a text from you saying that you're on your way. Curses when he's finally in the kitchen with all of his shopping, and notices the notification. He's got plenty of time, but he wants to freshen up, too. Practically runs upstairs to the shower on all fours. Is in and out within five minutes.

Frantic as he riffles through his overnight bag in search of something to wear, Jeongguk doesn't really have anything with him that feels date-worthy – but he does have his outfit from the wedding. You'd gone home with Danbi and Tae so that Jeongguk could head straight on over to check on Oduun.

Much to Jeongguk's horror, you spent the entire drive home getting grilled by an incredibly smug Jimin who was also riding in the back with you. Had relayed to Jeongguk the horror story of Jimin's relentless questioning. It did, admittedly, make Jeongguk laugh when you told him that you'd insisted on nothing happening.

"Said we were just besties," you'd giggled on Facetime a few nights ago. "I think he bought it. Definitely is none the wiser."

Realistically, both of you have confirmed to Jimin on separate occasions, multiple times, that you fuck around together – and even if you hadn't, he's not stupid. He heard you that one night in Pohang. Has walked in on one too many curious sets of circumstances to not know.

But it's fun to pretend like no one knows, so you still do. You don't actually believe it. Plus, it also winds Jimin up so much that a vein starts to appear on his forehead out of frustration, and, like, Jimin's right in thinking you're a brat. It's not just reserved for the bedroom.

And given that he'll never get the luxury of you in the bedroom ever again, you may as well give him a taste of what he could have had if only he'd have learned what a g-spot is.

Jeongguk quite enjoys how much you like messing with Jimin, 'cause he likes doing it, too. Likes that you can do it together.

While the suit needs dry cleaner, he's already put the dress shirt through the washing machine, so grabs it off the hanging rail in the spare room. Hair wet, he's all haphazard. Leaves the shirt undone as he pulls on a pair of socks and then sifts through his clothes for a half-decent pair of trousers. Could always borrow Yoongi's, but Jeongguk's an ass man through and through. Has seen Yoongi's. Knows they wouldn't fit him quite right.

Still, he's not gonna wear his suit trousers, but jeans feel too casual, and all of his other trousers do, too.

"Fuck," he curses, the butterflies in his stomach teasing him with pin-needles on the edges of their wings. He's anxious, and they're not helping. Stripping himself of the shirt, he pulls a white vest down onto his body. A wife pleaser, Jimin always calls them, 'cause he's never met a girl who didn't go a little feral over them, and Jeongguk much prefers this name for the sleeveless tank top than what they're typically called. Deciding on dark, loose jeans, secured at the waist with a thick leather belt, Jeongguk'll pick an overshirt later.

For now, he runs down to finish setting up. Gets the alcohol in the fridge, meat marinated. Cleans himself up, checks his hair in the mirror and is pleased to see it's airdried well. A little dishevelled, he puts some product in it to keep it in place. Will get ruined by your hands later no doubt, but for now? Looks pretty damn good, if he does say so himself.

"Oh, god," he exhales a little breathlessly, mind working so fast he's forgetting what he's doing. Standing in the kitchen, he looks around for something to jog his memory. Catches Oduun judgementally looking at him, instead.

"Well you're not being much help are you?" He sighs, but goes to pick him up regardless. Oduun doesn't like hugs. Doesn't particularly like anything other than salmon treats and stalking birds in the yard – but Jeongguk is incapable of going more than a day without giving him a salmon treat as a bribe for hugs, so Oduun lets it slide, even when Jeongguk bounces him like a baby. He's melodic as he sings, "What to do, what to do, what to do?"

But then he clocks the Daiso bags by the back door and knows exactly why he was so frantic. Pops Oduun down on the counter. Thanks him for his help, then darts outside to set everything up.

By the time Jeongguk is back inside, and his phone is lit up from notifications on the kitchen table, he realises the time. Has a missed call from you, and a message saying you've reached the bus stop ten minutes ago – and then right on cue, there's a knock at the door. 

"Fuck," he curses. Still hasn't got an overshirt on. Can't really do anything about it now. Takes a second to breathe and make it look like his heart isn't beating so fast it'll break through his chest, and then heads through the house to the front door.

He really needn't try to control the way his heart is beating, for yours is doing the exact same thing. Bag slung over your shoulder, a bottle of the whiskey you know Jeongguk likes in your hands, you're a little unsure of yourself. Feel nervous for some reason. The dainty silver rings on your fingers tap against the bottle as you reposition yourself. Want to look perfect for him. Want to adjust your hair, but then you can see his figure through frosted glass and then-

"Hi," Jeongguk smiles, and it's like he's restored a sense of calmness in you.

Your heart is still going at a mile a minute, because he's gorgeous , and you just can't help it.

"I come bearing gifts," you beam like a cosmic entity as you hold up the whiskey. Dressed for the occasion, you've made an effort. While, yes, you are in one of his shirts, it's layered over a white polo neck and tucked into the short black skirt you're wearing. The outfit isn't too dissimilar from what you wore on your first date, but there's a sheer black layer over your legs and a pair of chunky boots on your feet. A thick black belt, much like the one Jeongguk is wearing, ties it together, and the pretty silver bird around your neck is evidence of how delicate you can be.

There's a chunky silver glitter beneath your lashline, and shimmer all over your skin, just like there always is.

Maybe he just hasn't seen you in a while, but he thinks he's never been more attracted to you.

Which is funny, 'cause the way his body looks in that white tank top, all gorgeous and defined, has you choking on your own spit. His strong arms are out for your viewing pleasure, tattoos trailing down one of his arms like he's deserving of a spot in the next gallery show you're setting up for Taehyung. God. Feels like you'll die just looking at him.

"So you did," he says as he holds his palm out for you to take and ushers you inside. Lets you pop your bag down as he rests the bottle on the small table by the door, but doesn't wait for you to talk your shoes off. Is slow in his movements as he traps your back to the wall, his hips pressing to your tummy as his hands sneak beneath your jaw. He nudges his nose up against yours. Smirks when your hands squeeze his waist. Whispers, "Swear I was gonna be romantic but what the fuck, B? How are you so... fuck ."

"So... what?" You tease, as if you don't know how he works.

"You got on a bus like this?" He grits through his teeth as one of his hands drops to the hem of your skirt, hooking beneath your thigh to encourage it to wrap around him. It's around now that Jeongguk realises you're not wearing tights – cause tights don't have lace around the top of them, and tights also definitely don't have clasps hooking them to a garter belt.

"Mhmm," you smirk, smug in how it's taken Jeongguk approximately three seconds to get a semi. "Issue?"

He shakes his head. Lets his lips brush against yours. "Bet everyone on that bus wanted you."

There's a predictability that comes with Jeongguk and how much he thinks his desire must be the human baseline. Finds himself irresistibly attracted to you, and is convinced that everyone else must be, too. Doesn't care for the fact that tastes vary. Anyone who doesn't want you must be clinically insane, in his eyes.

But he also likes that. He likes getting what other people can't. Is a high achiever. Enjoys the exclusivity of it all – even if you technically aren't.

"Good job I don't have a boyfriend then, isn't it?" You tease.

Jeongguk can't argue against this, 'cause it's true – but you both know you're not really single.

And so he sinks his lips into yours to remind you of that. Lets the weight of his body trap you in place, and the softness of his hands remind you how safe he always is. There's a welcome nature to his dominance now, a clear indication of how much he's missed you in the time you've spent apart. Light with his lips, Jeongguk knows he can't get too carried away.

Resting his forehead against yours, he laughs ever so sweetly. "Just friends, yeah?"

The way you tease each other about your 'friendship' will never grow old, you think. Will still be insisting that you're just mates on your joint gravestone . Here lies Jeon Jeongguk: brother, son, bestie.

Easing his grip on your leg, Jeongguk pulls back from the embrace and perches his ass on the arm of the sofa. Takes a second to just drink you in.

"Best friends," you grin, then walk towards him, 'cause you've got no intention of spending any time away from him. The positioning comes naturally, how your hands cup his jaw and his stroke up the back of your thighs. He loves the feeling of the stockings. Never wants to stop.

"The bestest," he husks as you look down at him, glitter sparkling in the low lighting of the sitting room. "God, you look hideous today."

"Thanks, mate," you smile – and oh God, he's so close to saying things he can't take back. "You look pretty goddamn grotesque, too."

Pulling away from him, you take your shoes off and instantly lose the two spare inches that the chunky soles had afforded you. It makes him laugh, but he doesn't tease you about it. Instead, he just holds your shoulders and encourages you through to the kitchen. Should have really told you to keep your shoes on, give the fact he's guiding you to the back door.

You interrupt his direction of your body to give Oduun a little head scratch, then let his control over you resume.

"Oh," you say. "My shoes – I should-"

You're cut off by Jeongguk hoisting you over his shoulder – and the way you scream absolutely does not phase Oduun in the slightest. If cats could raise a brow, you think he'd be doing exactly that.

"Gguk!" You shriek, but his arm is firmly hooked around your legs to stop you from catapulting to the ground – but he does also take the opportunity to push your skirt up a little. Can see just how sexy your underwear is from the corner of his eye. Delivers a short, sharp spank to your ass and is so incredibly pleased to hear the way you whine.

"You'll get one for each time you complain," he tells you.

Laughs, when you reply, "In that case, I hate this. This is the worst."

He does as he said he would – delivers a spank to your ass – but also keeps his hand there afterwards to soothe any pain.

For all you could debate him when it comes to his stance as an ass guy, he still does bloody love yours.

Eyes closed, you revel in not just his strength and his security, but also his playfulness. There's truly no one like Jeongguk. You're not sure how you managed to get so lucky with him – but you know that you wouldn't change a single thing about your past if it meant that it led you here.

If anything, you're disappointed when he finally sets you down. Eyes on him, you sort of don't notice what's around you. Are too busy watching the way light glints in his small silver hoop as he bites down on his bottom lip. Eyes wide, there's a nervousness to him, overly keen to read your reaction.

Dragging your gaze away from him, you finally take in the garden around you – and find yourself a little lost for words.

Standing on a bed of blankets and scattered cushions, he's crafted an ethereal dream. LED candles flicker in the grass, and wax ones remain unlit, waiting for your arrival (safety first). The entire area has been dressed like a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, little whimsical trinkets adorning the space around the blankets. A small table is set to the side, with snacks you love, and your favourite wine in a bucket of ice. In amongst the pillows are binoculars, and he's made sure Yoongi's garden fairy lights are all on.

"What is all this?" You say softly, turning to face him again. He still looks nervous – so you hold out your hand for him. Wait for him to kick off his shoes as he takes it, then joins you on the blankets.

"I haven't cooked yet," is all he says, as if he's looking for things to downplay the magic he's created for you.

"Doesn't matter," you promise, pulling him in for a pretty little kiss. It's fleeting, like the wings of a butterfly against his skin, but it's enough to let him know just how incredibly charmed you are by his efforts. "Gguk, this is... this is so cute."

He nods towards the pillows. Encourages you to sit. Says, "Skies are clear tonight. Figured we'd see if we could find your long-lost family."

It's only now that you realise his intentions. He wants to stargaze with you. Has been calling you a fuckin' star for months. Oh, it's all so sickly sweet, you could just die – but then you'd miss stargazing with him, and there's nothing more you want to do.

Reaching across for the remote that controls Yoongi's fairy lights, Jeongguk fades them out. Knows that light pollution is the worst for trying to see stars, and wants this to be successful.

You shuffle down the blankets, and wait for him to lie down with you. Though you're side by side, Jeongguk needs you closer – and so he weaves his fingers between yours. Says nothing for a moment or so, just letting his eyes adjust to the light levels, and is so incredibly pleased to see that it is clear out tonight.

"You any good with constellations?" He asks, knowing that his knowledge is stuck at the bigger dipper, Orion's belt, and you.

"A few," you admit. Point upwards to the sky, as if Jeongguk will be able to work out where you're pointing. "You've got the seven stars of the north – the big dipper – and then there's Orion a little further over." Your arm moves, to point at a brighter star to the left of it. "Okay, you see that one – that really bright one?" Jeongguk nods. Points upwards too, to the beacon of light in amongst the black abyss. "Jupiter."

"Really?"

"No idea," you admit, and it earns you a laugh from him - but you're not telling the exact truth. You know exactly what it is. Just feel a little shy saying it, because it means admitting that Thing is, you know Jeongguk. Know that he'll love what you're about to tell him. "Okay, so that's a lie. Do you see there's like... almost a box? Of smaller stars? And the bright one that totally isn't Jupiter is the one in the lower corner?"

"Mhmm," he says. Can see exactly what you're pointing out, but knows you're probably gonna tell him a bunch of bollocks again.

"Okay, so they're harder to make out, but there are a few more stars beyond them – they kinda like, spike out." You can see exactly what you mean, but know that without context it's probably difficult. Still, Jeongguk stares ahead, trying to figure the skies out. " That is a constellation."

"Not sure I believe you," he laughs quietly – but then you squeeze his hand and suddenly it's like you're incapable of lies. He'll believe everything that rolls off your tongue. Everything.

And so it's a good job you're telling the truth when you say, "It's Virgo. Your constellation."

"Really?" He asks again.

"Really. Second largest in the sky." You smile, now. "The box, is like the head and the rest of the stars are the body."

"A person?"

"Mhhm," you nod. "Virgo. The Virgin. Your constellation is the shape of a person."

"I'm not a virgin," he scoffs, knowing it doesn't mean that at all, but still choosing to be childish.

"Could have fooled me."

"Rude," he retorts, then adds, "And that's also a lie."

"Sure it is, babe. Sure it is," you laugh at how lame he chooses to be sometimes, and how much you adore it. He squeezes your hand, now. You know that calling him 'babe' must be the reasons why. Glancing over to him, you're pleased to see a tight-lipped smile plastered on his face. He doesn't look at you – but his smile does grow. Teeth show. And then he tells you to shut up.

"I'm not saying anything!" You protest, then gaze back up to the stars. "You can't see it, but Virgo is along the ecliptic plane."

"The what?"

"The ecliptic plane," you say, as if that will explain anything. "The path of the earth around the sun."

"Oh, really?"

"Mhmm," you nod. "And it also falls on the celestial equator."

He doesn't need you to dumb that one down. "Ah, so I'm pretty important, then?"

"Kinda," you smile. "There's only one other Zodiac constellation that also directly falls in line with the both of them."

"Which is?" He asks, wanting to sus out his competitor for the title of most important constellation in the sky.

"Pisces," you hum serenely. "Mine."

He turns to face you now, a bemused look of curiosity on his delicate features. When you turn your head to meet his gaze, you've a coy look about you.

"So let me get this straight," he grins. "Are you saying we're written in the stars?"

"I'm not saying anything," you desperately try not to giggle. Fail. "The stars are."

The way Jeongguk kisses you in the wake of this discovery is nothing short of cosmic. It's like he's an astronomer touching stardust for the very first time; delicate and yet terribly possessive. Doesn't want anyone else to have you. Cannot bear to let you go. Will revere and worship you until he's senile. Hair grey, skin wrinkled, his eyes will still be full of stars, as long as he has you.

"Never believed in astrology," he admits into your lips as he pulls your body across his. Gets you straddling him. Doesn't stop kissing you with every pause between words. "You make me reconsider it."

"You're welcome," you say, softly pressing a kiss on his cheek. Trail down his jaw. His throat. Revel in the sound of his breathless pants.

"I mean it," he insists. "There's nothing on this earth that–" his breath hitches as your teeth graze that sweet spot on his neck. "Oh, fuck – nothing on this earth can describe you."

Your lips curve against his skin as you press a kiss where your teeth just said hello, then sit up straight. Jeongguk pouts, and rests his palms on the top of your thighs. Thanks to the way you're sitting on him, your skirt has ridden up, but there are no complaints from Jeongguk. Instead, he lets his fingers toy with the clasps of the garter belt. It's the black one he packed for Busan. One that he's yet to experience.

"I can think of a few things to describe me," you flirt. "Amazing tits-"

"Check."

"Your bestie."

He laughs. You adore him. "Check."

"About to give you the best head of your life."

"Che- wait."

"What?"

Jeongguk looks very confused, but also very keen – and that is just how you like your men.

"I don't think I heard you right?"

"Oh, no," you smile. "You heard me absolutely correct. I can repeat it if you like?"

"Rather see it in practice, if I'm being honest, B," Jeongguk shamelessly declares. Licks across his bottom lip, then perches himself up on his elbows.

You lean forward. Steal a kiss. Whisper, "Yoongi's not got cameras out here, right?"

"Better fuckin' not," Jeongguk husks, then chases your lips for one final kiss before you pull away. Looks at you with unbridled desire as he says, "I'm willing to risk it, if you are."

Reaching across to stroke his cheek with your thumb, you're pleased when he leans into your touch. There's a docile nature to Jeongguk that comes out whenever you're a little dominant with him, and you find you enjoy just as much as you enjoy him taking the lead.

It's give and take with the pair of you; equal in all capacities, apart from times like these when you decide not to be.

"Fairy lights," you say. "On or off?"

He doesn't need asking twice. Wants to watch you, and the little LED candles really aren't enough for what he wants. "On."

You comply with his request, and are glad for it as you work your way down to between his thighs. He's already hard beneath his jeans, and there's a teeny tiny wet patch courtesy of you, thanks to a few kisses that really shouldn't have worked you up that much – but you suppose it's just a consequence of the person kissing you being Jeongguk.

Eyes trained on him as you palm him through the material of his trousers, you find the desperation on his features adorable. You can tell he just wants you to do something. Anything.

And so you decide to make him work a little harder. Nod towards his lower body. Say, "Take them off."

He nods. Frantically unbuckles his belt. Lets his eyes dart between you and his hands. Doesn't wanna miss the way you're taking out your claw clip, and replacing it with the hair tie around your wrist. Slips his jeans past his ass. Lets you see just how big he is, in a pair of white Calvins.

"Fuck," you exhale, 'cause how can you not? Like the rest of his body, his cock was made to be adored. It's only fitting that you've never loved one more.

He smirks at the way you can't take your eyes off his crotch. Have barely even noticed him awkwardly getting his jeans fully off. Too transfixed.

"You gonna suck it, or just stare at it?" He teases in good humour.

Casting him a jovial glare, you say, "Careful, or I'll do neither."

He absolutely knows that you one hundred percent would do that just to prove a petty point, so he shuts up. Looks ever so serene as he sighs into the feeling of your lips pressing kisses against the cotton covering his thick shaft.

Being with Jeongguk like this is a pleasure for all of your senses. The freshness of his laundry meeting the musky natural scent of his body is enough to drive you wild. When it's teamed with the pretty sounds of his dulcet whines? Well, it's a recipe for disaster. Or for sin. However you wanna perceive it.

Tugging on the waistband of his underwear, you let it ping against his skin. The instruction is clear enough, and he wastes no time lifting his hips to free himself from his underwear. They're tossed to the side with his trousers, that goddamn white vest the only thing left on his body. You want that off too – and when you tell him that, he complies without objection. Is happily entirely naked for you, just the silver chain around his neck and hoops on his lip left to remove - and you'll never ask for them off.

"Such a good boy for me, aren't you?" You praise, hands stroking up his thighs, deliberately not getting too close to his throbbing cock. It's so pretty like this- Hard. Needy. -the vein running up the underside of his shaft all engorged and desperate for your touch.

He mumbles some sort of agreement, lips pressed together, a muffled groan stuck in his throat as you let a tiny bit of spit drip from your pursed lips to his shaft. When it makes contact with his skin, his dick fucking twitches, and – oh – how you adore the male anatomy.

Pressing a wet kiss to his thigh, you work up until you're level with his cock, and switch sides. Trail down, this time. Giggle, when he groans.

"What is it?" you feign innocence. "Watcha want, Koo?"

It's a miracle he doesn't cum on the spot.

"Suck me off," he desperately husks, reaching down for you. Soft in his touch, he strokes your hair. Doesn't try and take the lead. Just wants to have you in all capacities.

"Say please," you tell him.

And so he does. "Suck me off, please."

He's so pretty when he begs, which is why you'll make him beg even more.

"Hmm," you hum, resuming your wanton kisses just out of reach. "Maybe later."

He's about to complain – but then he feels the warmth of your wet tongue stroking up his balls. "Fuck."

Lips soft against his skin, your hand gently begins to spread your spit up his shaft. It's not the focus right now, as you carefully take one of his balls in your mouth, gently rolling your tongue against it. Letting it go with a small pop, you giggle at the way he whines for you.

"Like that?" you check.

"Fuck," he husks. "Yeah, I fuckin' like that."

And it's proven with the way his body writhes for you under lunar light as you repeat your previous steps on the other side.

This time, you spit. Get him nice and wet. Lick between each side and neglect to pay any real attention his cock. He almost thinks you're about to finally focus on it when you ask, "What's the word, Gguk?"

"Word?" He asks, a little confused, panting slightly from the incomparable pleasure he's experiencing as both of your hands gently massage his cock.

"Chess," you tell him, as if he's ever really been the one who would need to use it.

"Chess?" He cocks a brow.

"Mhhm," you smile, understanding why he enjoys the dynamic you're normally in so much.

He asks no further questions. Trusts you. Knows you're gonna do all you can to make him feel good – and it excites him. Finds it hard to imagine a scenario in which he'll ever say chess.

Instead, he simply says, "Do whatever the fuck you want to me."

He's so pathetic, sometimes. So pliable, and pretty, and petite in his words despite the strength of his body.

And so as you let his cock sink into your mouth, one of your hands still at the base of his cock, you know you're gonna make him feel things you never have done before. You wanna rewrite his memories. Take claim of his body like he's done to yours. Want the scent of your perfume and touch of your hands synonymous with Jeongguk's understanding of what it is to come undone for another person.

There's no restraint to the way you take him; wet, warm, wanton. His hands grip in your hair, pushing you down as his hips start to thrash upwards. He hits the back of your throat again, and again, and again – until it all gets too much and he has to yank you away from him before he finishes far too soon.

Panting as you recover from letting him fuck your face, you're smirking. Are pleased that he seems to think he has control over the situation. Breathlessly, you say, "That was cute."

"Cute?" He laughs – and then watches with bated breath as you pull his belt from the loops of his trousers.

"Yeah," you grin, chin wet, lips glossy. "Cute. Put your hands together."

He complies immediately. Watches on with fascination as you wrap the belt around his wrists and securely fasten it in a way that no one has ever done to him before.

"What's the word?" You ask again.

He doesn't need clarification this time. "Chess."

"Good boy."

Jeongguk swears he might just cum. You're too much for him. Too good. Get him whiney and whimpery from the smallest of touches.

As you shuffle back a little in your position, you sink down into a feline pose, and get back to the task at hand. Let your tongue run all over his balls – then sink to his perineum.

Jeongguk changes his mind, and decides that he might die, instead. "Fuck."

"Yeah?" You tease.

"Yeah," he husks. Groans as you sink ever further. Use your hands to push the undersides of his thighs back. Get a little better access. "Oh, fuck yeah."

Though the fairy lights are on, the angle prevents much light access from reaching where you are – but that just makes it even better. You're relying on guesswork and intuition. Are sloppy. Messy. Just how Jeongguk fucking likes it – and when you spit? God, he's in love . He pulls his hands apart but can't break the restraint. Or at least, he can't break it easily. If he really wanted to, he could – he just likes this far too much.

"So good," he whines. "Making me feel so good, B."

He's a panting mess of expletives and tensing muscles as you get him wetter, hotter, moanier – but it's when your tongue strokes against his tight hole that Jeongguk really loses it.

"Oh my God," he whimpers. "Oh fuck. That's it, baby. That's it."

Harsh in the way you spit, but gentle in the way your tongue laps at him, Jeongguk's never had anyone go to town for him the way that you are, nose nestled beneath his balls, tongue unrelenting against him. It could last for hours, or for just a minute or so. He couldn't tell you. Has lost his damn mind.

Breathless as you pull away, you're quick to reach for the belt. As hot as it is in theory, all you want – all you ever want – is for him to touch you. Want his hands all over you.

"Can I fuck you?" you beg, as if that's needed.

"Nah," Jeongguk says, taking you a little by surprise, but then pulls you up. Gets his lips on yours with little to no care for where they've just been. Is feral in his need for you. Grunts, " I'm gonna fuck you. Hmm. You want that, baby? You want me to fuck you?"

And who are you to refuse?

Nodding into his frantic kisses, you can't verbalise a response. All you know is that you don't want him to work you up. Don't want to play games. You just want him inside you. Are about to tell him so, when you're caught off guard by a loud, impatient meow.

"Shit," Jeongguk laughs, turning to face a rather fed-up Oduun. Sitting up on the table by the patio, his dark tail wags. Jeongguk's forgotten dinner time – and just because you were busy eating Jeongguk's ass doesn't mean Oduun is gonna wilfully miss his eating time. Might just be a cat, but deems himself far more important than either of you. Turning back to you, he winces. "Can we hold that thought?"

Laughing, you roll off of him. "Let's hold that thought."

"You're perfect," he praises, leaning across to press a kiss to your cheek, then wraps himself up in one of the blanket and darts inside to deal with Oddun as quickly as possible.

Still laughing, you take in the night sky above. Find your life these days kind of insane. Wonder how the fuck you'd explain eating Jeongguk's ass in Yoongi's back garden to a version of yourself from this time last year. Biting down on your lip, eyes just as starry as the sky above you, there's no place you'd rather be. Inside, maybe. Actually, definitely inside.

Grabbing Jeongguk's clothes, you head towards the house just as he's returning to you.

"Oh?" He asks of your movement.

"Getting cold," you say. Continue walking past, and stand on your tippy toes to whisper. "You'll get me naked far quicker inside."

He doesn't need telling twice. Locks the backdoor, and kicks a foot through the catflap to make sure Oduun can vacate the premises and not disturb you both for a second time.

Already in the spare room by the time Jeongguk arrives, you've stripped to your underwear.

It's a small room – just enough space for a bed and some handcrafted furniture. In the far corner is a standing mirror. The frame is made of the same oak that surrounds a second mirror. Far larger, as a trick to make the room appear bigger, it's on the back wall – right above the headboard.

By the foot at the bed, you're gently pulling your dishevelled ponytail out as he enters the room, the blanket still bundled around his waist.

"Hi," you whisper.

"Hey," he replies just as quietly. Lets the blanket that had been keeping his dignity preserved drop, revealing his still-hard cock for you – and you follow suit, getting to your knees. The request is clear. One that Jeongguk is happy to fulfil. Walking towards you, he loves the way you look at his body. Devour him with your eyes before your lips even get a chance.

When they do eventually wrap around his cock, Jeongguk can't help but tip his head back. Sigh a hearty moan in the atmosphere above him. Lets his hand find a home in your hair.

Promises, "Best mouth. Best fuckin' mouth."

And so you let him fuck until there are tears forming in your eyes, and you forget how to breathe.

Pulling on your hair, Jeongguk forces you away from his throbbing cock with a heavy groan. It's too much . Too good.

Panting, face completely fucked out, you barely catch your breath before running your tongue down his shaft again. Eyes on his, you let water gather in your mouth, then spit on the head of his cock and spread it with your hand.

All you want is for him to feel unreal.

As you get to your feet, Jeongguk knows the feeling is mutual.

His eyes rake up and down your body. The set you're wearing is all black – lace, sin – and as you turn around and sink into a downward position on the bed for him, he realises just how much he hates that he didn't come and pick you up earlier. Hates that other fuckers get to see how hot you are. Knows no one will have noticed you were in stockings instead of tights, but doesn't care.

Eyes trained on your ass, Jeongguk grapples with your rounded cheeks. Spanks you sharply. Notices something he didn't realise earlier. Grits, "You wore this? On the fuckin' bus?"

Smirking into the sheets, you know exactly what he's talking about. Find that he confirms it when his index finger runs down the soaked material covering your pussy. Or at least, half covers it.

If the suspenders weren't bad enough, the underwear you're wearing are keyhole detailed. Has a split right where your entrance is, as if Jeongguk needs it. Gets your panties off in 5 seconds flat, normally. Or just pushes them to the side. Whatever. Not the point. The point is that he doesn't need any assistance.

"Problem?" You smirk.

In all reality, you're not a fucking idiot. Have years of experience as a daughter sneaking in outfits far too mature for her age. Had been wearing a baggy pair of sweats on your journey to see him. Quickly got out of them at the end of Yoongi's drive. They're stuffed in the top of your bag downstairs.

"No problem," Jeongguk grits, as if there definitely is a problem. Spanks you again.

"Seems like there is a problem," you tease as his hand strokes at the area that just met his palm.

Realistically, there is no problem. Jeongguk finds it really fuckin' hot. Wishes he'd have been sat next to you, a hand on your thigh for the entire ride. Obviously, unaware of the sweats, in his head he'd have had easy access to you – and fuck, that itch for exhibitionism he seems to have these days really needs scratching.

"Ain't got no fuckin' problem," he grunts as his fingers trace the soaked opening of your underwear.

Gasping as his index finger takes full advantage of your underwear and sinks into your pussy, you're in heaven. He doesn't waste time. Inserts his middle finger too, waits a moment, and stretches you out with a third finger.

"Fuck," you grit into the sheets.

"Problem?" he echoes your teasing from earlier.

It'd make you laugh if you weren't whining like a little bitch. "No problem."

And so he picks up a little pace. Gets you mewling - but isn't gonna waste your orgasm on his fingers.

He pulls out. Knows what you want. Is gonna give it to you. Reminds you of chess, and insists that you can always say it, but you know you won't.

Jeongguk gets onto the behind you. Is on his knees. Is aware you're probably the wettest he's ever seen you, and yet he spits regardless. Just can't help himself. Spreads it with the tip of his bare cock and husks to himself, "Fuckin' made for me."

Lining himself up, he makes use of the split in your panties. Decides that just because he could get rid of them, doesn't mean he should. The head of his cock presses a kiss to your entrance as he gently teases you - and then, Jeongguk comes home.

The burn of his cock sinking into you is unlike anything else you could ever describe. Without him warming you up properly, it's so much more intense – and he knows this. Takes his slow. Warm himself inside you for a moment.

As soon as it subsides, he's pulling out just to push back in again. Grips onto your hips as he builds a pace. The sound of your skin slapping against his fills the room.

Though it's one of his favourite positions – ass guy – he rarely takes you from behind. Loves kissing you too much. Funnily enough, he also finds one of his hands stroking up your sternum until he finds your chest and cradles one of your tits in his hand. Seems like he really is greedy. Can never decide what he likes more.

"Faster," you tell him oF his pace – and he picks it up effortlessly.

"Yeah?" he grunts. "This good?"

And just because you can't help yourself, you say, "Harder."

You expect a little speed increase. Maybe a spank.

Instead, Jeongguk uses the hand on your chest to push your body up. Can feel your ass against the tops of his thighs. Doesn't need to see it – but he needs you to see what it looks like when he fucks you.

Focusing on the mirror ahead, the hand on your chest changes position. Rests around the base of your neck, now. Joins your bird. Squeezes to match the tightness of his other hand on your waist.

Face fucked out, eyes glossy and full of stars, he thinks you look absolutely beautiful. Lips pouty, there's a desperation to you. Vulnerability. An awareness that in moments like these, you do not belong to yourself.

His cock continues pounding into you, tits bouncing in the reflection. Hips pumping at a speed that you know your fingers could never rival, Jeongguk is fucking you so well you can't even talk.

Whine? Sure. But form cognitive thoughts? Absolutely not.

The entire thing is a mess; your pussy, your moans, your inability to do anything but beg him for more.

And who is he to deprive you of your pleasure?

He gets your head pressed back into the duvet. Doesn't hold it there, grabbing your hips for him thrash himself into you at a record speed, instead.

"Talking me so fuckin' well," he praises through gritted teeth, a sweat building on his skin. "Love this cunt. Mine, isn't it? Mine."

You nod. Whine in the pillows. "Yours."

"S'fuckin' right," Jeongguk curses. "All mine."

One of his hands drops from your waist and dips to your pussy. Takes ownership of it, rubbing circles against your most sensitive spots. The feeling of Jeongguk as the pads of his fingers massage you just right, tip of his cock stroke against your g-spot, is unlike anything you could ever describe. The sensation is too much to bear. Too good.

"Close," you cry out, 'cause it's all you can manage. "Gguk-"

"That's it, B. Cum for me," he begs. "Please, baby."

A few more strokes is all you last until your world begins to bloom around you; white light and the scent of Jeongguk's aftershave the only thing that fills your brain. The pleasure travels through you like electricity. From the tips of your toes to the top of your spine, it's like your body isn't yours. It really is his. All his.

It's only proven by the way your pussy tightens around him, desperately trying to milk him of his sperm as you orgasm – and he's a weak, weak man when it comes to you. Will submit to anything your body requests of him.

"B, I'm gonna-" He whimpers. Pulls out. "Where?"

Still shaky from your own orgasm, you waste no time turning, getting in position to take him in your mouth. Bob up and down his shaft, taking in the taste of yourself until the white-hot fluid begins to spurt from his cock and sink down into your throat.

His release is undignified. He curses. Praises. Holds your head. Grits, "That's it. That's it. All of it, baby. Fuck."

And when he finally pulls away, you realise you haven't been breathing the entire time. Pant. Drag him back down into the bed with you. Let his hands run all over your body, tongue licking into your mouth.

He loves this part of sex with you. Not that it's over, but that neither of you want it to end. Has never experienced such vulgar exhibitions of desire with another human being, and knows he never will. Knows that this is it for him. Anything else would just be pale in comparison.

Eventually, between giggles and pretty words of affection, you accept that the session has to finish somewhere.

"Fuckin' starving," Jeongguk laughs against your shoulder. "Worked up an appetite."

"Me too," you agree. "I showed up expecting a meal ready, but nooo-"

"B, you showed up in a fucking garter belt," he reminds you. "Ain't no way you weren't expecting to end up like this."

"True."

The night descends into a natural state of being. Jeongguk grills the meat he bought earlier, while you clear up the garden, and rearrange the flowers he'd just kinda stuck in vases. They're pretty; purple and white. No roses, you notice. It makes you smile. You know him well enough to know it was deliberate.

There's a casual chaos that comes with the combination of you, Jeongguk and access to alcohol. One drink turns into two, then two into four, and four into a bottle finished. You've been drinking whiskey with him, not because you like it, but because you wanna feel what he feels.

Jeongguk's already opening the next one by the time old-school Bieber starts playing from his playlist, because of course it does.

And because Jeongguk is Jeongguk, he repurposes the bottle as mic. Serenades you. That should be me, holding your hand. So dramatic. So ridiculous. So silly, and lovely, and everything you ever could have wanted and more from the person you call 'yours'.

That's the thing though. He is the one who holds your hand. He is the one making you laugh. It is him.

It's hard to comprehend that anyone has ever made you laugh before, because the way you giggle through his serenade, glass to your lips, eyes shying away from just how charming he is, it's like you've never felt joy before.

At least, not a joy like this. A joy like him.

Languid as he slumps into the sofa beside you once his one-man performance concludes, Jeongguk has no care for personal space. Lets his limbs rest over your body, head on your hip. Just wants to be close to you. Feel your skin. Smell your perfume. Squeezes, as he says, "Missed you."

It's such a small declaration - teeny tiny, right down to the way his pouty lips deliver it - but it feels far bigger than you're able to understand.

All you can really comprehend is that you need to let him know that he isn't alone; that you've been missing him, too. Fingers in his hair, you gently scratch his scalp.

"Yeah. Me too," you hum ever so serenely. "Missed you a lot."

It's not even been a full week, but you and Jeongguk never really go too long without seeing each other, and especially not recently. There's been an ache in your chest ever since he dropped you home on the day after the wedding.

You had both spent that morning avoiding and deflecting your friends' questions and knowing glances - but Jeongguk also never stopped touching you. Not once. A hand on the small of your back, a palm on your thigh, pinkies linked, toes tapping together, he made sure to have himself connected to you at all times.

Hayun's cold stare was ignored for the most part. Jeongguk had pretended like he didn't notice at all. You had exchanged dubious glances with Danbi whenever she laughed a little too loudly, but no issues had been made out of it.

"A lot, hmm?" Jeongguk purrs into your touch. Fucking loves it when you give him little head scratches. "How much?"

He's sweet as he asks, all smiley and serene.

"Too much," you admit.

Jeongguk hums. Is incredibly pleased with your answer. Finds that he loves being missed almost as much as he secretly enjoys missing you. Is so pleased that the way he feels is reciprocated. Isn't too sure he can ever remember feeling like this.

"You're such a softie," he teases, as if he's not snuggled up to you like a kitten, blissful in his proximity to you.

"Says you."

"Mhmm," he nods. Part of him wants to joke about how he's actually, like, always hard – but this moment isn't about that. "Could just stay like this forever."

For a short time, the idea of a life like this had terrified you. Never did you think you'd ever be happy with somebody else forming part of your identity and yet whenever you think of Jeongguk, these thoughts seem to just... vanish.

It's a whimsical, abstract way to think of Jeongguk. He's not even your boyfriend. On all technicalities, you're even sure what he's classified as. A friend, yes. A lover, yes. Yours? Well, you like to think so.

But if he's yours, then it means you're his. It's only fair.

And the thought of it makes you smile .

It's the kind of smile that persists. Is present when you're brushing your teeth together. Is present when you return to the room you lost yourself in earlier that evening. Is present when Jeongguk curls his body around yours, trapping you as the little spoon.

Is present when you wake. When he cooks breakfast. When you eat breakfast. When he eats something else entirely. When you're in the kitchen, biding time until you have to leave for work.

He's still too hungover to drive, so you're getting the bus, and honestly it's probably better that way. Will force you to behave like a human, and not like death warmed up after drinking into early hours with your boy... friend? Friend who is a boy? Jeongguk , you mentally correct yourself . After drinking into the early hours with Jeongguk.

The smile does, however, falter when you're putting milk away and notice a photobooth strip on the fridge. It's cute. A few years old. A bunch of the usual suspects after a few too many drinks - but it also includes Hayun. Suddenly it's like being dragged back to reality, as if you've been living in a dreamland for the past twelve hours.

"You know, I've been thinking, Gguk," you hum a little innocuously, as you walk back to where you had been standing against the kitchen counter.

"That's dangerous," he teases with a pretty smile. If anything, he loves it when you think. Loves that brain of yours. "Go on. Hit me. Watcha been thinking, baby?"

God , you'll never get over that.

"Firstly?" You grin, the coy look on your face enough to let him know what you're about to say is a joke. "We've gotta revert to the old rules. I can't deal with pet names."

"No?" He grins right back. Prowls across the room, setting his mug down on the counter beside you. Keeps you trapped in place with the pressure of his hips against your tummy. Holds your jaw in his strong hands, and whispers, "What about kissing?"

With a small, timid shake of your head, you beam. "No kissing, either."

As he nudges his nose down against yours, Jeongguk lets his lips delicately brush yours. "No?"

And it's funny, because you say 'no' – but then your lips press up against his, just like he knew they would.

"Your nose'll grow, Pinocchio," he tells you as he finally pulls away. Retreats, a little just to give you space to talk. Perches his ass on the kitchen table. "Does Pinocchio count as a pet name?"

Narrowing your eyes, fearful of cementing a new nickname, you simply roll your eyes and move the conversation along to your originally intended topic.

"Y'know, I actually do kinda wanna talk about rules," you say, passing his mug back over to him, just so you don't have to look him in the eye as you talk. It's an awkward topic of conversation, and not one that you've actually ever had with a partner before. Seokjin was a lawless bastard at the best of times, and you were never really that invested with anyone else. You've a vested interest in making this work with Jeongguk, though.

"Oh?" Jeongguk chirps, a little confused, but fully attentive. His big dark eyes are on you, exclusively.

"Yeah," you say a little awkwardly. Catch his gaze. Feel a little nervous. "I, uh... I guess, it's less rules, more... boundaries."

Jeongguk says nothing. Continues looking at you, gaze hard, a little difficult to read. You aren't sure if you should continue, or not, and for some reason you get a little self-conscious. Look down. Start preening the hem of the shirt you're wearing. Dressed casually for work, you're in a pair of wide-leg trousers and a black baby-tee with a slightly unhinged Ratatouille graphic printed on it. 

Tight to your figure, and showing just a tiny sliver of skin between the hem and the waistband of your trousers, Jeongguk had been incredibly perplexed by it. Found the shirt hilarious, but the silhouette of the fit unbearably sexy. It's a miracle he was able to pull away from you just moments earlier.

Though your feet are currently bare, a pair of socks and your Converse are waiting by the front door. The glitter on your cheeks is residual. It needs a top-up. A fresh layer of war paint.

"Like, I just mean- " you cut yourself off. Groan. Tip your head back and look to the ceiling as if that will help – and then decide you just have to bite the bloody bullet. Focusing on him again, you continue, "Look, we both know what we want – but if there's any chance in hell this is gonna work between us, I need you to know my boundaries with Hayun."

Jeongguk shuffles in his seat ever so slightly, but his expression remains largely unchanged. If anything, the lines between his brows just get a little deeper. The hardness of his gaze implores you to keep talking, but his silence makes you nervous.

Ever since Seokjin, and meeting Jeongguk, you've been trying to make sense of why you let yourself be treated so terribly for so long.

While the blame, you think, lies largely with Seokjin, you admittedly had agency over yourself in the early days. The boundary walls of acceptable behaviour had been waltzed over by Seokjin, and instead of rebuilding them and standing strong, you'd allowed him to knock them down entirely.

By the time the desperation and the self-loathing had kicked in, it was too late to rebuild. The bricks had become but rubble. Dust. Ash.

You're ashamed, when you think about it, now. It's embarrassing how little respect you had for yourself – but you also know it wasn't entirely your fault. Love, or our misconstrued perceptions of it, can do strange things to our understanding of the world and our place in it.

"Okay," Jeongguk says, a little unsure of what you're asking of him. "I've already told her to stop crossing them."

You nod, understanding that he's had conversations with her, but they're irrelevant.

Boundaries are personal. Like your own special little fence.

You like to think of yours being wooden. Painted white, with a little gate, that you'll use to let Jeongguk in. Vines twirling around the beams. Quaint, but fragile.

Beyond that first fence, the radius a little wider, would be another. And then another, and another. It's up to you to decide who gets access to which parts of you – and you don't think Hayun deserves any access whatsoever. If she encroaches on a boundary, you'll rebuild it with brick.

Likewise, it's up to Jeongguk what boundaries he sets with her. You're not gonna dictate that. If he makes the choice to have her in his life, then fine. So be it – but you don't want to share a boundary space with her. Need a little distance. A couple walls.

If he lets her into the final, central circle? You won't force her out, but you also won't choose to stay there, either.

"And I appreciate that Gguk, I do," you say softly, knowing that he really has tried. "But this time last week, she was telling our friends that you were gonna fuckin' marry her."

The memory has stuck to you like the scent of a skunk: unbearable and unpleasant and impossible to remove.

"B, I had no control over that," Jeongguk's frown grows deeper. Feels like you're blaming him, as if he is solely responsible for her – which he thinks couldn't be further from the truth. Wants nothing to do with her, and has made it abundantly clear already.

"I know." And you really do know. It's not his fault, and you know this. You know it's an issue within her – but you also know it's an issue facilitated by the lack of boundaries he's had with her in the past, and how much he's let her get away with before. If he wants change, he has to implement it. "But I don't want that kind of energy thrown in my face every time I hang out with our mutual friends."

"I can't just tell her to stop being friends with people, B," he quickly replies – and you understand this too, but it's not the point you're trying to get across.

You've never tried to explain your thought process when it comes to boundaries, and it's coming out all clunky and confusing. You can't articulate it in a way that conveys what you want it to.

If you were to sit and think for a while, it would be simple: your boundaries don't dictate what other people should do, but instead they dictate your acceptance of their behaviour.

You are the only person you have any control over, and you'd like it to stay that way. Remember Jiyeong, and her inability to communicate her boundaries with Jeongguk, and how toxic their relationship ended up becoming. You never want to be like that.

"That's not what I'm saying, Gguk," you sigh, pushing your grown-out fringe off your face and shaking your hair out a little. You're anxious, and it's showing in how you're uncertain of your appearance. Insecure. "She's treated me with nothing but contempt since I met her, and if I'm being honest, you blurred the lines of what was and wasn't okay. You gave her the green light to treat me like shit, because – and don't take offence to this – she saw you treating me like shit, all the while saying you care about me."

You both know exactly what incident you're talking about, even if you don't want to say it out loud: the kiss.

Jeongguk wanted to talk about it at the time when it first happened, but you were so closed off that he barely got the chance. Thinks that you have to talk things out instead of bottling them up. Reckons if you'd have let him address it fully months ago, then this would be a non-issue, now.

"It was one kiss," Jeongguk defends himself, knowing that he shouldn't have let it happen, but also a little hurt that you're using it against him.

If he could take it back, he would – but he can't. It's just something you both have to accept happened if you want this to work out.

"Don't downplay it," you counter, far sterner in your tone than you mean to be. Catch yourself before you curse him out for it. Realise that maybe you're harbouring a little more resentment than you thought you did. "Anyway, that's not the point here – although, maybe it is a little bit. I don't know. I'd be fucking gutted if it happened again."

Jeongguk is quiet as his tense jaw grates together. He looks down. Scoffs a little. Shakes his head, tongue flicking against the inside of his cheek.

"Really?" He looks up towards you, icy in his gaze. "You think I'd fuckin' cheat?"

"No," you quickly reply, not wanting to fight but desperately trying to make him understand how your brain works. "But like, I didn't think you'd kiss her when you did the first time. And I sure as hell didn't think you'd show up at my place to fuck me without telling me. So, no, I don't think you'd cheat Gguk, but..."

Jeongguk turns away, his broad back littered with scratches from your nails during his second breakfast. He's a sight to behold - yet as he begins to pace a little, you wish you could look anywhere else other than at him.

"So let me get this straight," he eventually says. Sniffs back emotion he doesn't wanna let show. Turns to face you. Is visibly disgruntled, but not crying. "If we were together, you wouldn't trust me not to cheat on you? After everything? That's what you think of me?"

"That's not it," you insist, knowing you're making a right pig's ear of this all. You never think he'd intentionally do anything to hurt you. Trust him with your life. "I just need to establish clear boundaries because I can't go through the shit I went through again-"

"Will you stop equating me to him ?!" Jeongguk snaps, cutting you off. He doesn't mean to speak quite so loudly, but fuck . Seokjin has been the bane of his life for months. "I'm not him . I haven't done the shit he's done. I would never do that-"

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd kiss Hayun-"

"And I fucking showed up at your door-"

"And withheld the truth, Gguk, before fucking me," you shout back, not letting him interrupt this time. Yep. Definitely harbouring resentment . He's not incapable of doing you wrong. Jeongguk isn't perfect, and you don't expect him to be – but you also don't expect him to be so bloody defensive when the whole point of the conversation is to strengthen your partnership. "But this isn't about that. It's about her , and the fact she has zero respect for me, alright? I need to hold firm boundaries with her, and I need a partner who does the same, otherwise my life is gonna be fucking miserable. If I'm constantly made to feel like I'm playing second fiddle to her, then what's the fucking point in any of this?"

It's a little harsher than you mean for it to be, but at least you're finally starting to make some sense.

"What's the point?" Jeongguk quickly repeats your words with a laugh, but it's filled with no joy. "B, if you think so poorly of me that I can't be trusted around her, then what the fuck are we even trying for? Just say you don't trust me and be done with it."

"That's not what I'm saying," you snap right back, confused at why he's being so guarded about something you thought you were on the same page about. Don't you both want to make this work? Does he not feel this way about Seokjin, too? And you find yourself annoyed; blood hot, fuse short. "But you know what, fine . If the idea of not being able to be best buddies with Hayun is getting you this riled up, then maybe we should just sack this in altogether."

" Best buddies? Really?" Jeongguk sneers, disgusted by the insulation he views Hayun as anything like that – which only confuses you even further. Why bother getting so irate if he really doesn't shit? Why argue? "That's not what I'm saying. You're twisting my words."

"And you're twisting mine!" You scoff in disbelief. This was never about your ability to trust him, and if he's taking it as that, then perhaps it should give you reason not to trust him. If the roles were reversed, you'd have been doing everything in your power to reassure him.

Jeongguk thinks he's spent months doing that regardless, and that you're just dismissing it all. Thinks all his hard work had been for nothing.

"You know what, Gguk? Whatever. I've gotta go to work, so you can sit with yourself and think about what an asshole you're being, and then get back to me when you realise I've got a fucking point."

"B-"

"No," you dismiss as you walk to the entryway. You know he was supposed to be taking you to work, but frankly you don't want to be in a car with him. Would much rather take the bus. "This is important to me. Get your head outta your arse and just think about it. If you give a shit-"

"You know I give a shit."

"- then the least you'd do is respect the point I'm trying to get across. I'm not saying you can't be friends, but I am saying I'm not gonna stick around to see it."

And it's the truth. You'll never give him an ultimatum, but you will stop him from being able to choose you full stop. He's the one who helped you realise your self-worth and nurture it back to health. If you weren't arguing, he'd be proud of how assertive you're being.

Jeongguk thinks this is fuckin' stupid. He doesn't need an ultimatum. It's you who he'll choose, and the fact that you can't see that makes him want to scream into the abyss.

"You can't just leave in the middle of this," he says as he follows after you. "Like what the fuck, B?"

You're already in your socks, though, stuffing your feet into your Converse, fingers fast as they wrap the laces around your ankles.

"I've gotta go to work."

"I'll drive."

"No," you say firmly, looking up towards him. "You're hungover, and I need to cool off, or else I'll say shit that'll ruin this."

He shakes his head. Scoffs.

"You don't think calling me an inevitable cheater, saying you don't trust me and that you think I've got the backbone of a jellyfish classifies as shit that'll ruin things?" He spits.

Well, when he puts it like that...

"That's not what I said-"

"Yeah, it fuckin' was."

"Fine," you snap, tying a double knot on the bow around your ankle and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "But you're letting this conversation fall apart for the sake of her, which is exactly why boundaries are needed. If you can't see that, then we really do have no hope, Jeongguk."

"I'm not-"

Voice loud and incredibly final, you look him dead in the eyes as you say, "You are. I need some space."

You don't kiss him goodbye. Don't even say it. Just unlatch the door and head down Yoongi's driveway with a face of thunder, and thoughts in your head to match.

Part of you thinks he'll chase after you. Part of you wants him to, just so you can tell him to go fuck himself. Part of you just wants him to say sorry, and that you're right, and that he wants this to work.

Mostly, you just want space. Spend the entire bus journey into town wondering how the fuck it got to the point that it did. By the time you reach your stop, your cheeks are pink from the frequency of you clearing silent tears from them. It's all so fucked .

You're stubborn at the best of times, and Jeongguk lets his agitation get the better of him. Your stubbornness is partially why you're so dismissive of your feelings – because as soon as you stand your ground, you know you won't stop. Will scratch the issue until it bleeds.

Jeongguk knows this, too, and is usually so good with it, able to remedy your woes and also get you thinking clearly – but on the rare occasions when you hit him where it hurts, he gets defensive. Defends and defends and defends. Doesn't even know what he's fighting for a lot of the time.

This time is different. As he starts up the shower in Yoongi's place, he's numb to the scalding heat of the water. Wants the feeling of the fight off his skin – but the way he's interpreted your remarks has stained him in the colour of words that he detests. Cheat. Untrustworthy. They sink into his skin like tattoo ink, but the needle goes too deep. Will leaves scars.

And in the midst of his confused hurt, Jeongguk convinces himself that not even a kiss from you would heal them. 

The damage is done.

"You're off tomorrow, right?" Hoseok asks, as if he hasn't double-checked the rota three times already this morning. Has been pacing in the supply room, sending voice notes to Namjoon for the past fifteen minutes when he should have been on his break.

"Look, just ask her, " Namjoon's deep drawl had echoed into Hoseok's headphones. "He's miserable, she's miserable, and I don't know about you, but if I have to see him pout like a little baby one more time, I'm gonna lose my mind."

It's a Thursday. Nearly a full week on since you left Jeongguk at Yoongi's place. Had shown up for that first shift full of smiles, and perfectly fine, but every time Hoseok caught you in a moment of quiet contemplation, he could tell something wasn't right. Eventually got the truth out of you yesterday, after his playlist reached the songs he'd saved from the weekend in Pohang. Had never seen you pout quite so pathetically – and especially not to a fucking Justin Bieber song.

"He just got so defensive," you'd sighed during the close-down of the shift, relaying your truth of the events to Hoseok. "And, like, I'm not doing it again. I'm not gonna be made to feel second best."

Which Hoseok finds funny, 'cause when he messaged Namjoon about the predicament, he learned that Jeongguk had been moping around just as pathetically. Asked to go for dinner with the boys not once but twice. Didn't wanna be alone, but also didn't tell them why - as if any of them needed clarification, when he was practically in mourning. It was as if he'd lost the most important person in his life.

It's for this reason that Hoseok knows Jeongguk would never consider you second best. Doesn't think there's anyone in second place, full stop. It's you. That's it.

"Tomorrow?" You hum. "Don't know."

It's a lie. You just don't really wanna be dragged into plans. Know that where Hoseok goes recently, Namjoon will surely follow, and you'd quite like to avoid any and all Dionysus boys.

"You are," Hoseok replies, 'cause he's not gonna try and beat blood from a stone. "Me and Danbi wanna go out."

"So go out."

"No," he laughs. "We want to go out with you. Haven't been out-out in ages."

"'Cause we're getting old," you remind him. "We aren't young, spritely spring chickens anymore. Closer to thirty than we are twenty."

"Which is exactly why we should go out," he insists. "One night. I'll buy your drinks."

He expects resistance. Expects push back. Doesn't expect you to say, "Pay for my entry, too, and you've got a deal."

You both know he won't be paying entry. Both know where you're gonna go. It's where you always go. Haven't been paying entry for well over a year, now. Have rarely paid for drinks, either. Not when Jeongguk is behind the bar, at least. The magic of Dionysus and the men who serve it.

It's funny, when you think about those first few nights, now. Unbelievable how much has changed.

As much as you may deny it, you want to see Jeongguk. Want to look in those starry eyes of his and stop your heart from feeling the way it does. Will take his annoyance and his upset, and accept that maybe he doesn't want to talk to you, because, despite it all, you know that being with him is the only thing that's gonna make you feel okay. 

Whether he's behind the bar or on the dancefloor, he's your safety zone – and given how much you've cried in private and failed to produce believable smiles in public during the last week, you know you need him.

"Deal."

On your way home, you consider sending through a message to your derelict direct messages with Jeongguk. Haven't really spoken since you left the Min's place. Didn't really have anything to say. A few videos have been shared, but you haven't watched any of them out of protest, and not wanting to smile when it comes to him. 

You've typed and deleted countless messages – Wtf is happening with us? I miss you :( Why r u ignoring me? Can't believe I ate ur ass and this is how u repay me. Ungrateful !!! – thinking that he should really be the one to reach out first.

And so you don't text.

Thing is, you know that if you end up at Dionysus (which you will) he deserves a little warning first. Eventually cave on your way back from running errands the next morning.

You : Heads up - going out tonight. Might go to the bar. Tell me if you'd rather I didn't.

Punching in the digits of your apartment door code, you almost jump out of your skin when your phone begins to vibrate. Slightly longer than usual, you know it's a call coming through. "Shit."

The caller ID confirms who it is – and despite your annoyance at the sight his stupid, beautiful face on the ID photo, you answer regardless.

"Hello?" You question, phone to your ear, as if your heart isn't beating out of your chest.

There's static coming through the speaker, the sound of Jeongguk's foot on the accelerator echoing into the room around you. Must be driving. You've half a mind to tell him to hang up – but you know he uses hands-free, and honestly you don't want him to go.

"Hey."

The greeting is sharp, like a knife to your chest – but the sound of his voice is so soothing, that you aren't able to comprehend the way that you feel.

"Wassup?" You ask, heading straight to your room, giving Danbi a panicked look of desperation as you walk past.

"Finallyyyyy," Danbi whisper-cheers, knowing you must be talking to Jeongguk. Wants to bang your heads together. Thinks you're both stupid.

"You're going out?"

"Mhmm," hum into the receiver of your phone. "Probably gonna end up in Dionysus. Just wanted to give you a heads up." An awkward silence lingers between you. "Or the chance to tell me not to come."

"Why would I do that?"

"Cause we aren't talking," you state all rather plainly.

"No," he corrects. "You asked for space."

In fact, he'd say you set a boundary. Thinks that he's respecting it. Just like you asked him to.

"Well," you say awkwardly. "Just let me know if you'd rather I went elsewhere."

"If you wanna go to Dionysus, go to Dionysus," Jeongguk says, as if he doesn't give a fuck what you do – then adds, "I'll tell Yeonjun to make sure you're on my tab."

"Yeonjun?" You question. "Won't-"

"I'm not in tomorrow," he cuts you off. In the static, you hear his engine cut off. "Look, I'm just home from Yoongi's. Got shit to do. Laundry and stuff."

"They're back?" You pout, sitting on your bed. There's a deflated nature to your posture. Don't understand why he's being so short with you.

"They're back." He confirms. Sighs, then decides the conversation is done. "Talk later."

"Yeah," you say quietly. "Talk later."

And you know it's stupid, and that you shouldn't read into things, but Jeongguk's shortness with you is devastating. The lack of 'B' tacked on to the ends of his sentences. The surface-level statements given without explanation.

When the line goes dead, you toss your phone down. Do nothing much for a good few minutes, until Danbi appears at the door and says, "I hear we're going out?"

When you glance towards her, and nod, you find that the movement of your head makes the tears on your lashline spill over.

"Oh, my love," she sighs, hurrying over to join you on your bed and engulf you in the biggest hug she can. "He's just a boy. Just a stupid, silly boy."

"So stupid," you agree, and let yourself cry a little bit more. "The stupidest."

"Big stupid head," she childishly agrees. "With stupid shirts that are far too big for him."

You laugh, but shake your head. "I love his stupid big shirts."

"I know," she nods, stroking your hair. Knows that half the clothes on your desk chair are his aforementioned shirts. "But it was the only thing I could think of."

For all his idiocy, Danbi knows that Jeongguk adores you. Will wait to see if he redeems himself before launching into a Seokjin adjacent tirade. That being said, she does also add, "Y'know what'd make life better?"

"What?" You sniff.

"Dump him."

Now this really does make you laugh – because how can you dump a man who hasn't even asked you to be his girlfriend?

"C'mon," Danbi says. "If you're gonna cry, at least do it after you've done your makeup. Hot mess style. You can poke me in the eyes so that we both cry. Power in hot mess girl numbers."

Dubious as you may be, you know Danbi is right. A night off with your friends, not thinking about Jeongguk (especially now that you know he won't be at Dionysus) feels like exactly what you need.

"Alright," you nod, as Danbi wipes away the straw tears on your cheeks. Smile, because that's what you should be doing. "Drink?"

"Always."

Dionysus never changes much.

From the sticky black floor and the strobe lights that repeat the same patterns week in, week out, the thing that changes most frequently is the crowd. Fridays are always a little lairy. Mainly a young crowd, it's the sort of people who spend all week looking forward to the weekend. Are too desperate to wait for Saturday to roll in.

Or, alternatively, they're people like you, who just wanna drown the week out. Wanna hold their best friends' hands in the crowd, and drink shitty drinks, and dance to even shittier songs.

There's a heat that comes with Friday nights in Dionysus. Desperation. Debauchery. Lost in the crowd, it's freeing to know a sea of strangers have no idea who you are. They'll never look at you and think of you as a disco ball.

Sure, they'll notice your sparkle, but they'll never look at you the way Jeon Jeongguk does.

Not like he's doing right now.

Tucked in the corner booth with his friends, he's ignoring their conversation, fully engrossed in the way your body moves. How your skin glows. The way you and Danbi become so intimate in your embrace that he finds himself getting agitated. Has half a mind to go and fucking interrupt. Make his presence known. Assert some fucking boundaries of his own.

You make him restless.

You, and your four-inch heels that he knows you're gonna be carrying by the end of the night. You, and the all-black outfit that has no impact on how you shine. You, and the glitter all over your skin, sparkling in the flashing lights of the club.

He sees you. Can't hear your laugh, but can imagine it as you hold onto Hoseok's arm, leaning across to say something in his ear.

Jeongguk's never cared for closeness in clubs. He's a bartender. Knows that it's needed to hear one another above the crowd. Also knows Hoseok, and how even if he was the last man on earth, you'd both let civilisation die out. Knows Danbi, and adores your friendship with her. He's not jealous because he thinks anything will happen – he's jealous because he misses you.

All he wants to do is join you. Not take you away.

Wants to share a drink with you. To hold your hand. To get covered in glitter, and have everyone in this god damn shit hole of a club knowing he belongs to you.

"Oi," Jimin grabs Jeongguk's attention. Holds up his cup. Knocks his towards the direction of the bar. "Another?"

Jeongguk's uncertain whether Jimin is deliberately trying to distract him or not, but he nods. Follows Jimin without a word. Is glad to be away from his circle. Is frustratingly anxious to be looking away from you. Can feel the heat of your starlight fading with every step closer to the bar.

Namjoon was the one to suggest the night out a couple of days ago. Jeongguk had refused – and yet by some miracle, earlier this afternoon, he changed his tone. Seemed to think going out was a great idea.

With Yoongi and Seoyeon home, he doesn't have to check on Oduun, and so he plans on drinking himself silly. It's been too long since he last got legless.

All the usual suspects are here – Jimin, Tae, Joon – and a few acquaintances that he's not too close with. He's vaguely aware of Hayun and Nabi being out tonight too, but hasn't seen either of them yet. Is hoping they'll have enough sense to go elsewhere. Has taken Hayun's name off the guestlist just in case. It won't stop her from entering, but it does mean she'll have to pay the entrance fee for the first time in her life. Hopes she'll take it as a hint.

Glancing back over to you, he sees you in conversation with some guy he doesn't know. Decides he doesn't wanna watch whatever happens next.

"Y'know what," Jeongguk says, patting Jimin's arm. "I need some air. Catch you in a bit."

He leaves before Jimin gets a chance to reply. Just heads to the smoking area. Needs a second to himself. To think. To breathe. To let his mind stop screaming for a split second. To stop himself from staring at you.

He's got Tae's cigarettes in his pocket from a smoke earlier in the evening, and fully intends on playing finders keepers with them. Hopes they'll give him a distraction, the heavy smoke lining his airways. Will coat the rotten feelings of his insides.

But even distractions from you end up as reminders. He thinks of the first night; the cigarettes tucked into your clutch, and how he rarely ever sees you smoke. Thinks you've got the kind of personality to foster addictions, and yet it's not one that's ever stuck. He also thinks you're incredibly disciplined, though. Stubborn. Is probably why you never let the habit consume you.

Not like he let the habit of you consume him. He's utterly ruined. Will never be the same.

"Got a light?" A sweet voice interrupts his thoughts of you, and he's left feeling bitter.

If there's one thing about Hayun, it's that she knows how to turn heads. Any other guy in the smoking area would choke on their toke trying to accommodate her needs as quickly as possible. Her maraschino cherry red lips are just as pouty as they usually are, her eyes wide to feign an innocence that doesn't align with the rest of her exterior.

Jeongguk says nothing. Inhales. Doesn't look at her. Passes across the box of cigarettes, where a lighter is tucked in the corner. Exhales as Hayun flicks up the box lid, and nimbly lights up the cigarette between her lips. Was given the cigarette by some other guy in the smoking area. Is good at that; getting what she wants.

Or at least, she was.

Jeongguk could fill the silence between them, but he doesn't care to. There's a twinge in his chest. Regret for facilitating Hayun's needs. Your words about boundaries ring in his ears. Was a small, simple gesture with no thought behind it – and he realises that's exactly the issue.

All he can think about is you.

He knows that him being with her right now is exactly the kind of thing that's only gonna prove your point; prove you right.

Strangely, part of him wants it to. Wants you to come for a smoke, or for air, or to look for him - and he wants you to find him.

Wants it, not to hurt you, nor to prove you right.

But to simply spark an argument; to make you give him an ultimatum, and for him to be able to simply choose you . Finally, and irrevocably.

For him to show you that you are his priority. You're the one that he wants. That Hayun's existence has no bearing on how he feels about you. That he just treats her like an acquaintance, and that he's not the monster you made him feel like he was.

It's a flawed logic, mind you. You'll never give him an ultimatum.

If you were to enter the smoking area, you'd understand that his choice is to spend time with her when he could be with you instead. Would view it as confirmation that you were right – and like you said, your boundaries are about you and your behaviour. He can do what he likes. Just means you won't let him come crawling back to you.

You're both drunk, and sensible rationalities evade you. It would be a disaster if you were to find him, now.

"Really got a bee in your bonnet, don't you, buddy?" Hayun tries to joke. It's a different kind of bee, granted, but she regrets saying it almost immediately.

He just hums in response. Knows he's being a little rude. Hope she'll take the hint, and bugger off.

Nearly six months since her return, Hayun still hasn't grasped the fact that the Jeongguk she used to know doesn't exist anymore. The boy who fawned after her for endless summers withered away, and in place grew someone new. They share a vessel, but their brain chemistry couldn't be more different.

He's not sure if it's the drink, or the smoke, or her, or you, but he feels nauseous. Stubs out his cigarette.

Hayun doesn't particularly want him to leave. Wants to see if she scratches away the surface, she'll find her old friend again.

"God, you're tense," she laughs. A few years ago, he'd have melted into the sound like butter on hot pancakes - but now it just makes him feel empty. "You not getting laid, or something?"

In another circumstance, with any person, Jeongguk might laugh. Might agree.

But he knows this is exactly what you meant when you said that you don't trust her to know where the boundaries are. Knows that he's tried to implement them before - and that she's waltzing her back over them once again. That they need to be rebuilt with brick.

Jeongguk is curt as he says, "Thought I told you not to ask shit about my sex life."

"Oh come on," she laughs. "It's just a joke."

"Well, am I fuckin' laughing, Hayun?" Jeongguk snaps. The volume of the music from the club obscures his question, but she hears him loud and clear. She says nothing. Looks at him with disgruntled surprise, but remains quiet. "Is it funny ?"

She considers keeping her mouth shut - but she's not gonna let him speak to her like that.

"Honestly?" she scoffs, bitter and scornful in her unspoken feelings towards the situation at hand. "Yeah. Yeah, Gguk, it is. It's fucking hilarious that you're pretending like you're some perfect couple when apparently she can't even keep you satisfied in the easiest fucking way. It's hilarious ."

Though she doesn't say it, her words are layered; a subtle suggestion that she knows how to satisfy him.

"And you could?" He laughs, now. Doesn't mean to be cruel, but he's reached his limit. Is still so fucking hurt that you practically said you expected him to cheat on you – with someone like Hayun, of all people. Makes him feel so disgusting. So ugly. And so kindness evades him.

"You're forgetting that I did ," she retorts. "For years , I did. You've known her all of five minutes and you're already unsatisfied, so don't give me this bullshit-"

"Hayun, you've got no fucking idea," Jeongguk spits. He could get vulgar, if he wanted to. Could tell her, in quite some detail, how the warmth of your lips is all that he needs to keep him alive through winter; how you giggle after every single climax, and how he knows it's gonna be the thing he hears on his fucking death bed. He could tell her how sometimes, his hands go numb from how intensely he comes undone for you; how his brain fails to control itself. Instead, he says, "She is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Do you not get that? She is it . I was never that for you, so I don't know why you're trying to make out like I'm sacrificing something that we never were. It's so fucking boring. Are you not tired?"

"Well, then why the fuck are you hell-bent on proving to me how much she means to you?" She scoffs. Is feline in the way her posture stiffens. "Why do you care more about keeping up appearances for me , instead of actually making things right with her? Why the fuck are you not with her? Why are you not official?"

"Because-"

"Because you're a scared little boy," she seethes, secretly revelling in the heat beneath his temper. Knew he still had a little passion left in him, and is glad to welcome it home. Knows that a fight always preluded their best bedroom sessions together. "Because if you make things official with her, then that writes off any chance you have with me. You're still holding out for me, and we both know it."

Of all the deranged things she's ever said, this is first time Jeongguk is speechless. Shakes his head in disbelief. Wonders how much coke she must have done up in Seoul to fuck with her head this badly.

"You're actually fucking deluded, aren't you?" He contorts his face, utterly stunned by how her brain works - but then realises this is exactly what you mean. The boundaries have nothing to do with Jeongguk or his feelings for you, but her inability to understand them. "You know what," he laughs. "Fuck this. This is the last time I'll have this conversation with you. Accept it or don't, but this is where it ends, Hayun. Keep the cigarettes. Don't ask me for shit ever again."

"Gguk," she calls after him as he heads towards the bar once more. He continues walking. Shakes her head. Thinks he's the deluded one. Mutters under her breath, "Fucking nutcase."

She's about to stub her cigarette out – had only been smoking as an excuse to get close to Jeongguk – when someone else fills his space.

Far smaller in stature, Danbi is just as imposing as the man she's replacing.

Though she's quiet, Danbi is incredibly direct as she scathes, "Is it really worth it?"

"Is what worth what ?"

"Constantly embarrassing yourself. Is it worth it? Do you reckon it'll win you Jeongguk back?" Danbi mocks. "'Cause from where I'm standing, it's not just him you're alienating."

Hayun says nothing. Takes a toke on her cigarette. Shrugs.

She knows she shouldn't speak on behalf of other people, but Danbi's been holding back for months. Has a little too much liquor in her bloodstream to bother being kind. Only came outside to look for you, when she stumbled across enough entertainment to rival a TLC show. That's gotta be it. Hayun must be the subject of a hidden camera show. It's the only way to explain how out of touch she is.

"Jimin is sick to his back teeth of you," she says, knowing that this won't be news Hayun. "And Tae was so fucking pleased when you showed up at New Years – but every single time since then, he's hoped you'd be a no-show."

Now this does irritate Hayun. She laughs. "I've known Tae-"

"You think I give a shit how long you've known him?" Danbi interrupts her. "Just as long Nabi, right? And have I ever taken issue with her?" The question is rhetoric. Danbi answers it herself. "No. I haven't. I respect her, as his friend, and she respects me as his girlfriend."

"So what?" Hayun scoffs. "What's your point Danbi? The situations are entirely different."

"My point is, if Nabi even thought about treating me like shit, it doesn't matter how long Tae's known her – he'd kick her to the curb. History doesn't mean shit when it comes to the person you wanna spend the rest of your life with." There's a strength to Danbi's words. A promise. You? You're Jeongguk's future. "Nabi wants to be in his life, so she's cool with me, and I'm cool with her in return - so what the fuck are you playing at? You're not even cool with Jeongguk. He's told you to sling your hook and yet-"

"You never knew us before," Hayun fights back. The cigarette in her hand is nearly entirely burnt out. "So history does count for something, because-"

"Before doesn't matter!" Danbi stresses. "Don't you get that? Do you not see what you're doing to the present day? How it's gonna affect the future? From what I know, Hayun, you tore him apart – and it's that girl in there, the one you show the utmost contempt, that put him back together. And when she did?" Danbi laughs, as if it's the most joyous thing in the world. "Oh, she reconfigured him. You reap what you sow, and you planted no goddamn seeds in the mess that you made – so take your empty satchel, and go find some other fucking farm. There's nothing here for you."

With that, Danbi leaves. Has nothing more to say to her. Has a disgusting taste in her mouth, partially from the secondhand smoke but mainly from her sheer distaste for Hayun.

Alone, Hayun purses her lips. Tosses the cigarette to the ground, and stubs it out with her foot. A boy from across the smoking area begins to advance towards her, but she scowls. "Piss off."

Her pride is hurt, and she's gonna need some time to lick her wounds. Holding up his hands, the boy retreats. Goes back to his friends, who laugh and joke at his expense. Beside them, a group of girls are consoling one of their friends. It's unclear what the problem is, but Hayun's pretty whatever the girl is crying about can't be any worse than what's making her feel all horrible on the inside – and yet there's no one there to comfort her. No one to tell her that Jeongguk's being stupid, or that Danbi is a bitch.

Because Danbi is right; there really is nothing left for her here.

And she's got no one but herself to blame.

Back inside, Danbi comes to join you as you're having your very own devastating conversation by the bar. "You're kidding me?!"

"Afraid not," Yeonjun grimaces. " Someone -"You know full well he means Jeongguk. "-didn't order last week's stock when he was supposed to, so we're running low on a few things. No starfuckers tonight."

Oh, it's terrible news. The worst thing you've heard tonight. Not the worst thing you've seen , 'cause you saw Hayun follow Jeongguk out to the smoking area, and that's definitely the winner there. Is also why you'd decided that purple starfuckers were very much needed.

"Watcha want instead?" Yeonjun asks, then leans a little further over the bar to lower his voice. "Look, between us –"he glances across to Jeongguk, who's recently returned to the booth his friends are in. "- if you're on his tab, which you are, you should go for something worthy of a bar tab. Hoseok's been drinking fuckin' Bacardi all night. Not worth it. Go big. Go for the Grey Goose."

And this is exactly why Jeongguk needs Yeonjun on his team when he sets up the restaurant. Is a people person. Can read rooms. Knows that you and Jeongguk must be in mard with one another. Also knows you need to talk, and that the best way to ensure that, is a little liquid confidence.

"Vodka lime soda," you grin.

"Grey goose?"

You don't vocalise it, but you do nod.

"Attagirl," Yeonjun grins. It also means it'll be put through on his sales record, and give him higher stats. Really is win-win situation (apart from Jeongguk's wallet when he eventually settles his tab, even with his discount). "Double?"

"Double."

"What about you Danbi?" Yeonjun calls back.

Wrapping her arms around your neck, so awfully pleased to have someone like you as her best friend, she grins. "Whatever's the most expensive liquor you have. Make it a double."

"Jeongguk's tab?"

"Well, he's gotta be good for something," she teases, and when you laugh, she gives you a big squeeze. Sways your bodies. Whispers, "Just ripped Hayun a new one."

"Lucky her," you laugh.

Despite the heat of the club, the knowledge of her presence makes you so terribly cold. Puts you on edge. Makes you wanna hide – and there's no better place for that than a club crowd.

"C'mon," you grin as if you don't have a care in the world once Yeonjun serves up your drinks. "Let's go."

Lost in what it feels like to be alive, you disregard the way you can feel Jeongguk's gaze burning into you.

He looks heavenly in flannel shirts; the closest thing you'll ever get to an angel in real life. Eyes dark, sin is embedded in the ridges of his frown, but you suppose it's apt. Even Lucifer was an angel, once. The Lord's favourite, if your memories of high school religion classes serve you right. Fitting .

You suppose it's not really a surprise. You don't think you've ever been confronted with a version of Jeon Jeongguk that you wouldn't worship; wouldn't sacrifice your sanity for.

Eyes on his, you let the crowd do its thing. He takes a sip on his drink. The guy behind you is getting a little too close for Jeongguk's liking. He mouths the word 'careful ' at you.

But you don't think Jeongguk was being particularly careful when he let Hayun follow him to the smoking area - so you shrug your shoulders. Turn away. Have no intention of doing anything with this man. Will dip in a minute. Just wanna piss Jeongguk off.

And it seems to work, given the familiar grip around your wrist not even thirty seconds later. The scent of his aftershave intrudes on your senses, and the flannel of his shirt greets you as he storms ahead, leading you through the crowd and out to the lobby area. 

You're quick on your feet as you teeter behind him, Jeongguk's pace far too impatient for your heels. Though his grip on your wrist is firm, you know if you were to pull back, he'd let you - but why would you? Why would you free yourself of his shackles, when all you want is to be his? Unashamedly, and irrevocably, his.

Anyone who cared to glance your way might show concern, Jeongguk's face of thunder and your open willingness to let him drag you around not exactly the most healthy display of affection. In fact, if you were to see a girl in the same position, you know you'd interrupt. Pretend to be her friend. Get her away from the guy.

And so you smile. Giggle, a little tipsy, and certain that it will look far less sinister. It seems to work, because you're unbothered as Jeongguk punches in a door code and hauls you into a room by the entrance. Lined with coats and bags, you've only ever seen this room through a small hatch at the far end, where a guy you don't recognise has turned to face his off-duty manager with taut perplexion.

"Out," Jeongguk growls at the guy standing by the cloakroom window.

"But-"

"Out."

Like a dog with his tail between his legs, the guy does as he's told.

The overhead lights are warm, and the room is far cosier than you'd expect thanks to all of the soft fabrics hanging on the rails around the wall. Pinned to each jacket is a little raffle ticket. You've one in the back of your phone, that matches the ticket pinned to your coat. A little archaic, the system works. No point in fixing what isn't broken.

Jeongguk really could not care less about the system, or people needing to get their coats as he drags you around the corner of the L-shaped room. He could close the hatch up at the front of the room, but it's against club protocol. Can't keep people's possessions hostage. Will just listen out in case the bell by the hatch goes.

This corner keeps you obscured from the hatch. No one can see beyond the turn, and even if they could, you're right in the corner. Are concealed by the overflowing coats that hang around you.

The smile you had plastered on your face is dead and gone. You're staring Jeongguk out, the whites of your eyes present against your lashline, a scowl resting on your sparkling features.

"The fuck was that about?" You spit, arms crossing over your chest.

There's a searing anger burning through your body; at Jeongguk for how he's behaving, and at yourself for how you're behaving. You know it's destructive. You know no good can come from a fight. That's it's stupid to be pissing him off just because he pissed you off.

You should rise above it - but you're drunk and sad, and all you really want is for things to be okay. That's what you're really fighting with, the idea of things being broken.

In any other circumstance, Jeongguk would have been distracted by the movement of your arms, and subsequent prominence of your tits, but he's just as angry as you are. Can't even bring himself to entertain the idea of your usual escapades, of what he knows you'd be getting up to in an empty cloakroom in any other circumstance, 'cause he's too agitated.

"The fuck was-" he laughs, imitating your words. Stutters a little. Can't believe the fucking audacity of you, sometimes. "The fuck was that ? I don't know. You tell me, B. Huh? Where the fuck were your boundaries?"

A great question, you think. 

Decide to counter with a few questions of your own.

"Tell you what ?" You sneer as if you don't know exactly what's pissed him off. It's not like you're stupid - but it's also not like you didn't see Hayun follow him to the smoking area. You watch him just as much as he watches you - the obsession is shared. Equal. And so you smile again, in a way that unnerves Jeongguk. Unsettles him, not because it's unpleasant, but because he's devastated by how prettily scorn resides in your features. "Why don't you tell me, baby? How was your smoke?"

The way you call him baby is cruel . Spiteful.

There's nothing he wants more than to be yours; to be the recipient of all your affection. He's revelled in the name before. Loves it when it occasionally slips from your tongue in moments of ecstasy.

He doesn't understand why it hurts now. He just knows that it does.

And so his shoulders broaden. Posture straightens. Defences strengthen.

"Here we fuckin' go again-"

"Yeah, we do," you interrupt, hot in your immediate anger. You're capable of spitting fire, and given how frosty you've been towards one another lately, you want the heat. You want your anger to burn. To leave a mark. A permanent reminder: treat me better. "I told you my boundaries. I made it perfectly clear that I expected better from you, and the first thing you go and fucking do? Entertain her. Why the fuck would go and do that?!"

Realistically, you know Jeongguk treats you incredibly well. In fact, no one has ever treated you in the way that he has. If anything, you feel unworthy of him - and perhaps that's just it. 

Perhaps you're looking for a way to push him away.

How can he hurt you if you hurt yourself first?

"I didn't go and do shit, B" he yells right back. Thinks you're being unfair. Knows that he did all he could. If the tables were turned, and it was Seokjin who'd followed you to the smoking area, you'd have responded in the same way. He also knows there's no chance in hell of Seokjin interrupting a night like this. Wonders if perhaps maybe you do have a point. She is always around. Can never catch a fucking break. " She followed me - but you let some fucking guy be all over you-"

"Convenient," you laugh, all rather condescending and sarcastic in your tone. Fighting for the sake of fighting, neither of you care for scoring points. You just want to hit where it hurts. His remarks about the random stranger on the dancefloor are ignored. "Why the fuck is she even here?!"

"I don't know! I didn't invite her, and I can't exactly ban her from existing," Jeongguk scoffs, well aware that you're just being petty for the sake of it. The vein in his throat protrudes, blood hot beneath his skin. His lips are pouty from frustration. If you stop fighting, you know you'll want to kiss him. "I took her off the guest list, and I told her to get fucked. What more can I fucking do?!"

He's done everything right. You know this.

But somewhere between the miscommunication and the one-too-many tequilas, you've convinced yourself that his defensiveness is an admission of guilt, and that he's doubling down in a bid to convince you of half-truths. 

This nature of yours is destructive. Always has been - but you and Jeongguk have worked so hard to snap each other out of your bad behaviours. He thought you were past this.

So did you.

"You can make a fucking choice, Jeongguk," you shout back, eyes glassy, jaw tense. "You have them, you know? Choices . You can choose to leave. You can remove yourself from the situation. You have free fucking will. You know that, right?"

You're not privy to the conversation between Jeongguk and Hayun. Are unaware of the fact he did exactly that. He has learned his lessons.

"You have no fucking idea-"

"No idea of what? How hard it is to let her go?" You sneer, putting words in his mouth. "Yeah, I fucking do, 'cause you're apparently unable to do so."

He's silent for what feels like an eternity. 

Feels like he's fighting a losing battle. Rubs his fingers along his jaw, pressing into his skin as if he's trying to ease the joints of their tension. Looks away. Shakes his head. Snaps his gaze back to you, and says, "If you think this poorly of me, then what the fuck are we even trying for, B?"

The air between you is so cold you're surprised snow doesn't begin to dust the top of his shoulders. Funny, how you always thought you'd withstand winters with Jeongguk, and now doesn't even seem like you'll make it to the end of summer.

As you shrug your shoulders, you cast your gaze to the floor. Are quiet, and dismissive as you say, "I don't think poorly of you, Jeongguk. I just think sometimes you make poor choices."

Now this does piss him off.

Glancing back up to see his reaction to such softly spoken words, you're surprised to find that the scorn in his eyes almost hides the stars as he looks at you – but not entirely.

He'll never lose them. Not ever. You're part of his anatomy. His soul. Will forever have stars in his eyes as long as he has you.

"I fucking choose you ," he hisses. Gets closer. Encroaches on your personal space. Looks down at you. Is just as frustrated as you are. Doesn't understand why you don't just fucking let him love you.

He knows you well enough by now to know what you're doing, how you're trying to push him away. You feel undeserving of his heart, so you try to throw it back at him - but he refuses to ever catch it.

He'll damned if you manage to destroy things. Vetoes the idea of this fight ruining what you have, but is too proud to back down. Knows he hasn't done anything wrong. Not now, at least.

Just doesn't realise it's the wrongs of his past that make it so difficult for you to trust his truth, now. Had fucked you once with the promise of not ever wanting anyone else, only for you to later find out that the lips that had whispered such words of affection had also been stained in red earlier that evening.

"Every fucking time, B," he continues, unaware of the painful memories that are choking you up. Will call you B until the day he dies, whether you're loving or fighting. It matters not. What matters is that you're still his to call. "When Hayun says dumb shit, I choose you . When Jiyeong was being a dick, I only stuck it out because I was choosing you , and choosing your happiness, because I thought it was what you wanted. When you started seeing whatever the fuck that douchebag was called, I chose to let you explore that, because it's something you had to figure out for yourself. B, I fucking choose you . Again and again-"

"But you didn't!" You shout, now, with no care for how close he is. Swallow back a sob. Don't wanna look weak, but you fucking feel it. You are about to spill the real crux of the issue that you've been holding in for months now. Something you dismissed, and ignored, when really you should have just spoken about it straight away. He gave you the chance - you just weren't ready. Didn't understand how you felt about it - but now you do, and you realise it's tainting everything in a dark shade of maroon. "Showing up at my apartment after kissing Hayun isn't choosing me. It's crawling back to me."

To say it out loud hurts.

To admit that it bothered you as much as it did is embarrassing.

To expose that you're no longer fearful of intimacy, but of him being intimate with someone else, is mortifying.

But it's a truth that he needs to know; that even though it was months ago, and you thought you were over it, it's been affecting how you feel towards not only him, but towards Hayun and the entire situation at hand.

There's silence; the sound of the club speakers echoing into the room the only disguise for your breaking hearts.

"B, it wasn't like that," He begins to defend himself, but his intent won't change his impact. Not now. "I was confused ."

"You betrayed my trust," you pathetically whine, finally admitting how the entire situation made you feel. "Gguk, you really fucking hurt me."

Perhaps the admission has come too late. Perhaps you should have come to terms with it earlier. In all honesty, it's only been a recent realisation. One that you've been trying to ignore.

Implementing boundaries would have remedied some of your woes, but when Jeongguk got defensive, everything fell apart.

There's a shift, not only in Jeongguk's footing, but also in his understanding of the situation; an awareness that this really has nothing to do with how rotten Hayun has been to you, but instead how accepting Jeongguk has been of her.

This is on him.

"Every single time I see her scurry after you, or find you hidden in conversation, that's what I think of," you say quietly, a little ashamed of how your brain works. Have worked so hard to heal it, but old habits die hard, you suppose. "I look at you, together, and I think of how I knew something had happened and I just let you... I let you lie to me, then fuck me as if you'd never do me wrong. And it makes me feel pathetic. I'm reminded of it every single time I see you together. I can't live a life like that, Gguk. Maybe it's my fault, but-"

Jeongguk shakes his head.

It isn't gonna let you take the fall for this one.

He cups your cheeks with his palms, and - oh, God - it's like coming home. Melt into his touch. You've missed him so much. Him; his warmth, and his kindness. He's like a sip of fresh spring water after an arduous hike. You've never been much one for climbing, but you'd move mountains just to have him.

You're pitiful as quiet sobs escape from your tipsy lips. It's embarrassing and stupid, but it just hurts so fucking much. The stroke of his thumbs as he brushes away your tears is disjointed; razor blades in one moment, feathers in the next.

"I fucked up, B," he says tenderly, forehead pressed to yours. Your cheeks are red, and your eyes even redder. Jeongguk knows how much you hate the colour. Feels awful that his actions have stained you in it. "If I could go back and change it all, I would - but I can't. You just have to believe me when I say I'm sorry . Trust me. You're the only person I want. Okay? The only one ."

And yet his words don't seem to soothe. If anything, you start crying even harder.

Jeongguk's getting scared. His heart rate doesn't seem to settle. Has never seen you this upset. He isn't quite sure what he's supposed to do. Knows alcohol is playing a part, but also knows it must come from sober feelings.

When you and Jeongguk started this whole thing, it was easy. Just you, and him. You could weather the storm of Seojoon and Jiyeong easily. Secretly knew that they were never the right fit, no matter how hard you tried.

Seokjin was touch and go for a while. That first night you showed up at Jeongguk's place in a sorry state about it all, he didn't imagine a scenario in which you'd ever choose yourself over Seokjin - let alone choose him . 

Jeongguk refuses to let Seokjin ever know the concept of peace, or a version of you that isn't spoken for, so long as he's in the picture.

Hayun was different. She came in like a tidal wave, and when she crashed, she obliterated everything . It took a while for you to realise how bad the damage was, but now the shores have settled, it's clear to you that you're still a little wrecked by it.

So of course you're crying, as you realise sucking Hayun's venom from Jeongguk meant poisoning yourself.

"I just... Gguk, I can't," you simply shrug, defeated by it all.

"Can't what?"

Though his voice is quiet, controlled, Jeongguk is anything but. He isn't sure if his heart is beating at rapid speed, or if it's stopped altogether. Either way, he thinks he might die.

You're struggling to form words. Sob a little more. A little harder.

He's panicking. You're not looking at him - think it'll just make it worse - but when he speaks, it sounds like he's about to sob, too. "Can't what , B?"

You're pathetic as you choke out, "Do this."

Jeongguk's blood runs cold.

Of all the outcomes of fighting with you, he never thought that it would be this. Knows you're stubborn. Knows you're set in your ways once your mind is made up. Know that if you're saying something out loud, that you mean it - or at least part of your brain does. 

He knows the exact part of your brain well. It's that fearful, cautious little trinket inside your head, right between your memories and your dreams, telling you to do this.

But Jeongguk has spent so long making that part of your brain pretty.

Like an old Altoids tin, he's been busy fixing you up. Has adorned you in bows and gemstones, paper cuttings from receipts received in time spent together, portraits from a photobooth that captured an intimacy so rare you didn't even realise what it was at first. Not like you do now.

He's filled it to the brim with everything that makes you tick: a tiny My Melody figurine, a miniature copy of your favourite Van Gogh, a couple 500 won coins for arcade machines and a vial of glitter for emergencies. Inscribed his initial in the side of the metal, 'cause he wants you to remember that he did this.

To recognise that even the scariest parts of your brain will always be safe with him.

It's not like it's been without reciprocation. Jeongguk's got more glitter in his brain than thoughts these days. Ideas are strung up on origami birds, and memories are washi-taped in place. There's a disco ball right in the middle of his mind, and it never stops spinning. He should be dizzy, really - but it's finally like his brain is moving at the right speed for him. Used to feel seasick on solid ground before he met you. Enjoys the sensation of stillness, now.

Without you, he'll be all out of sync. Won't be able to see any stars. Night skies will be empty. Void.

He is terrified by the concept of an abyss where there once was abundance.

But that's the thing.

It's merely a concept.

It'll never be true.

Just like there'll always be stars in the sky, there'll always be a place for you with him. Always.

And so despite your tears, and regardless of Jeongguk's panic, he surprises you both when he laughs. Shakes his head, forehead pressed to yours. Tells you, with an absurd smile on his face, "No."

No.

I refuse.

Confusion warps your tear-sodden face. Brows furrow. Head shakes. Pouty lips so close to his, you could kiss him if you really wanted. You do want to - but not like this. Not when you don't really understand what's happening.

"What?" You manage to sob. Sniff back a few more tears. Are so overwhelmed with confusion that your brain can only regulate one intense emotion at a time. What once was anger had devolved into sadness, and now you're just left inexplicably bamboozled. Don't understand.

He doesn't need you to understand. Just needs you to hear him out for a change.

"No," he repeats, with a soft laugh. Lets his nose nudge against yours. Doesn't give a shit if his face gets with your tears. Has shared so much worse with you. Wants to experience it all with you. The good and the bad. "Chess."

Funny, how usually that word would scare you.

Feels like it's healing you, now.

So puzzled by him and your own feelings, and whatever the fuck is going on, you laugh, too. "You can't 'chess' a break up."

"I can," he assures you. "I've got like, two birds left on my ceiling, and neither one of them have 'break up' written on the wings, so. No can do, I'm afraid. No breaking up for us."

Jeongguk knows you. Knows how your brain works. Knows that all you want, truly, is to be chosen. Knows that you're pushing him away, when in reality you're begging him to stay – and so that's what he'll do.

He'll stay for the anger. Stay for the sadness. Stay for the bad, 'cause he knows that it's worth the good. Worth the happiness. Worth the passion, and the protection, and the pretty way you make him feel. God, it's so worth it.

Fists bunching in the front of the tank top beneath his open flannel, it's the first indication that you want him to stay close. The breaths hitching in your throat become a little calmer. Lips tremble, but not in the way they once were.

"Gguk-"

"Don't." He's gentle as he interrupts. It is so tender. Warm. Safe. "B, I'm not losing this. I'm not losing you. I'll give up anything , but I won't give up you. Don't make me. Please ."

It's what he should have said when you fought at Yoongi's place; what he should have said a million times over. He tried to prove it in his actions, but failed to communicate it with you how you needed him to. He is trying his hardest now.

Hopes it isn't too late.

There is a soft smile on your lips, head shaking at the stupidity of a fight like this. Find a little humour, as you eventually tease, "Suppose we can't break up if we're not technically together."

"Oh my God," he groans, tipping his head back. Laughs. "I have a plan! Everyone keeps giving me shit for not making things official but – fuck," he pulls back to press a kiss to your forehead, then wraps his arms around you. Hugs you so tightly it's as if he's forgotten you need to breathe if you stand any chance in hell of being together. Is so soft as he smiles, "B, I've got a fucking disco ball in my Instagram bio. What more do you need?! That's like, the most official thing ever ."

"Wait," you laugh now, too. Pull back to look at him. Notice there's glitter all over the front of his shirt, but what could you expect from such a mess on your face? He was well aware it would happen. Wanted it to happen. Loves the lingering remnants of you. "Your bio?"

Again, actions over words. Tried so hard to silently let you know he cared, but failed to realise he needed to actually let you know.

There's no shyness as he nods. In fact, he seems rather pleased with himself, pulling his phone from his pocket, handing it over to you. Lets you unlock it. Lets you find Instagram in his apps. Lets you click through to his profile. Gives you full access to his phone, because he's got nothing to hide.

Sure enough, above his Chess Champion title, is a string of three emojis: a disco ball, a bird, and a star. You .

"When?" you narrow your eyes as you question him, unable to fight your smile.

He narrows his eyes right back. Wants to kiss you so fuckin' badly. "Can't believe you never noticed. After Pohang. After I told you I had feelings for you."

There's a level of guilt that comes with thoughts of Pohang; a reminder of the conclusions jumped to, and the safety mat laid out by Jeongguk beneath you.

Have you not learned your lesson? Did you not trip yourself up enough times? Did Jeongguk not bandage up your knees each and every time you scraped them against the assumptions that lined the floor of your self-sabotaging mind?

Actions, or words, it matters not. Looking at Jeongguk, so soft in his gaze and strong in his stature, you know he'll never lie to you again. Maybe about the small things - the inconsequential white lies that harm not even flies - but never about the big things. Understands that what's sometimes small to him may be large to you, so will try his goddamn hardest.

He really has learned his lesson. Is deserving of gold stars.

There's only one star he wants, though, and so you'll give him it; give him yourself.

"I just got so in my head," you begin to explain.

"I know."

It's not the first time. Truthfully, he doubts it will be the last. He just doesn't care.

He rests his forehead against yours. Nudges his nose into its favourite spot, and whispers, "You'd be insane to give this up, and you damn well know it."

"Insane," you agree. Are slow as you tilt your head upwards, lips ghosting his. Neither of you press down. Instead, you simply exist for a moment. Share oxygen. Stay alive, together, until you whisper. "I don't wanna end things. I don't-" You choke out a laugh, still delicate from your previous tears. "Gguk, I want this to work."

"We will work," Jeongguk whispers. "We do work."

It's proven how your body moves as he presses his lips down into yours, kisses soft, his hold on your body hard. Like the lip rings in the corner of his mouth, he's firm in his physical declaration of feelings. Intentional. Intimate.

The room you're in melts away. No longer are you in the confines of the Dionysus cloakroom, but a place all to yourselves; serene forests and flowing streams, moonlight shining down. The sound of the club echoes into oblivion. All that's left is you and him. Eternity wouldn't be long enough for a love like yours.

But your time on this earth is limited - and Jeongguk doesn't wanna waste it.

"B, it's so fuckin' stupid that we aren't together," he husks as you pull away from the intensity of his kiss. "So stupid, and pointless. My mind's made up."

Certain. Sure. Solid. His need to be yours is unwavering. Will never change.

"Oh, yeah?" You settle into a pretty smile, and it's almost like you were never bloody crying.

"Yeah," he smiles right back, drawing you closer to him. "I wanna be your boyfriend, and I want everyone in that goddamn club to know that you're my girlfriend."

"That's a bit excessive," you tease of his possessiveness, as if it isn't making the butterflies in your stomach soar.

"Is not," he assures you, matching your tone. Is so pleased to be playful with you again. God, he's missed you. "I'll get up in the DJ booth. Tell everyone." He brings his hand to his mouth to imitate a mic, but also doesn't stop holding your hand in the process. Puts on his best DJ voice. "I'm dating a disco ball, letsssss gooooo!"

Delicate in how you giggle at his dumb humour, you shake your head. "You'll end up one of those documentaries, you know. The ones where people fall in love with cars and stuff."

"Oh, you're far more fuckable than a car. Exhaust pipes hurt."

"How do you even-"

"So, do you wanna be my girlfriend?"

You're beginning to realise now why Jeongguk needed a plan so badly. The boy is a disaster. All you can do is laugh – but you also nod. He's right. Postponing the inevitable had opened you up to a vulnerability you were unaware you even had.

"It's a stupid question."

"I know it is," he insists, and pulls you in for a dainty kiss. Would kiss you forever, if he could - but your answer is more important right now. "Thought it went without saying. But, just to clarify – that's a yes, right?"

You'd rather die than reject Jeongguk. It's why he never has to fear rejection with you - 'cause you simply never will.

"Yes, it's a yes," you grin, biting down on your bottom lip. Feel shy, somehow, as if you haven't had him in the most explicit of positions; as if this is uncharted territory.

There's a sparkle in his eye. He reciprocates the way you bite on your lip. Mirrors you, because that's what you do when you're confronted with the person you adore the most in the whole entire world.

The bell by the front desk chimes. You both ignore it. Neither of you can look away.

"Nice," he nods, incredibly boyish and pleased with himself. He has a girlfriend . Feels like he's fuckin' floating. "Think I'm cured."

You push him away a little, just to drag him back down into a kiss that finishes far too quickly for his liking. Wants to suffocate in everything you are. Wants to go home, hand in hand with you. Wants to fuck you like he means it. Wants to hold you while you sleep. Wants to wake up beside you.

Wants, wants, wants.

You, you, you.

"Oh yeah?" You enthuse, totally enthralled by the energy he's radiating. Like a neon light, the beam he emits is celestial. You think he's the real star, here.

You both ignore the bell again.

"Yeah. Fear of rejection? Pffft," he dismisses. "Not my problem. Couldn't be me."

"I'm gonna have to start rejecting you to humble you, aren't I?" You laugh - but then the bell rings again, and you both know you can't ignore it for any longer. "C'mon. Let's get that poor person's coat."

"Hope whoever it is stubs their toe when they get home," he whines, stealing one final kiss before you drag him back around to the hatch. Mumbles, "Cockblocking prick."

Pulling on his hands, you drag him round the corner with you, both smiling like absolute idiots, highly aware that it probably looks like something incredibly inappropriate happened. You don't care.

"Oh," you falter when you catch sight of the hatch, and the crimson calamity waiting there for you.

It's not like it's unthinkable to happen, Hayun coming to collect her jacket, but it's also not something you had anticipated. You had expected Hayun to at least let your smile fade before showing up just to ruin the fun.

There's an awkwardness in the way she stares at you, and you at her. Almost like Jeongguk isn't even there - but he is.  His grip on your hand tightens. You both stop in your tracks. The tension is so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

He speaks first. Wants to prove himself. Is stern. Says, "Sorry. Don't know where the attendant is."

Rolling your eyes, you smile. Are aware of his intentions. Feel far more secure than you did half an hour ago. He's got no need to prove himself. Patting his chest, you let go of his hand, then head towards the hatch, where an incredibly perplexed Hayun still stands.

Taking a deep breath, you know you don't have to do this – but you nearly let her win earlier. Being cruel to her now would just scream insecurity, and you know that kindness will be the thing that really haunts her.

"What's your number?" You ask. Hold hand out for the little raffle ticket. "I'll get it for you."

She says nothing. Hands the ticket over. 666. Figures .

Jeongguk keeps his eyes trained on you as you head off to the back of the room to collect her jacket from the section it's in. Doesn't even so much as look in Hayun's direction when she mutters some bullshit about how 'classy' the pair of you are to be caught in a cloakroom together.

He knows that the simple act of you retrieving her jacket will leave it covered in glitter, and that's punishment enough for Hayun. Has no interest in engaging in conversation with her, especially not one that is targeted at making you feel shitty.

"Here," you smile as you hand it over. Are met with no thanks, just a look of disdain and the understanding that she never wants to see you again – and God, how you hope this will be the case.

She casts one final glance across to Jeongguk. There's nothing in it. No sorrow, no remorse. She's just checking to see if his eyes are on her. They aren't.

"You good?" Jeongguk asks you almost immediately, not caring if Hayun is still around or not, holding out his hand for you to take.

"Good," you nod. As your fingers link with his, you exhale a shallow breath. Squeeze his hand.

When he opens the door, the kid he'd barked at earlier awkwardly jumps up from his squatted position. Jeongguk grimaces. Apologises.

"Was, uh-" he stumbles on his excuse. "Some business stuff."

And so as you let him lead you back into the main room, you tease him. "Is that what we are, huh? Just business?"

He laughs, squeezing your hand. Leans back to make sure you can hear him as he says, "You're not business, B. You're my girlfriend - or have you forgotten that already?"

"Think you'll just have to repeat it, like, all the time," you tell him. "Make sure I never forget."

And when you finally return to your friends, greeted by an explosion of cheers when they see you together , smiling, holding hands? Oh, how could you ever believe that you and Jeongguk aren't meant to be?

"What?" You feign ignorance. Joke, "We're just frie-"

"Shut up," Jeongguk laughs – and then to really kill the notion of you being anything other than hopelessly in love, he kisses you.

Unapologetic, undignified, and undeniable.

"Finally," Jimin beams – and then gets right in between you both, arms looped over both yours and Jeongguk's shoulders. Drags you both to the bar. "Drinks on me, you silly fuckers."

He gets a bottle of champagne.

Tells Yeonjun to put it on Jeongguk's tab.

Isn't the first time Jimin's promised a happy ending, only for Jeongguk to be the one footing the bill. You're used to it.

What you're not used to is the way Jeongguk's arm slinks around your waist, and how he presses half a dozen kisses into your hair for the whole world to see. "I mean it, B. Really better remember this when you wake up."

You can't imagine a scenario in which you won't - but he's spent the night remedying your woes. It's only fair you return the favour.

"Yeonjun," you call across the bar - but he doesn't hear, so you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. "Oi!"

He snaps to face you immediately. Narrows his eyes. Knows he deserves it for all the times he's yelled 'Oi, Disco Ball' at you. Pointing a finger towards you, he fights a smile.

"You're lucky the boss likes you," he tells you, nodding to the man beside you. "I'd ban you from the bar otherwise."

"You'd do no such thing," you assure him. "I bring in too much business."

He raises a brow. "I don't think you've ever paid for a drink."

"That is beyond the point! Anyways, you got a pen behind the bar? Need to borrow it. Will give it right back."

He plucks a random Sharpie from the hidden counter beneath the bar and passes it over.

Pulling the cap off with your teeth, you push Jeongguk's flannel sleeve to his elbow, and set to work on filling up space on his empty arm. 

He watches on without objection. Is smitten. Can't see what you're drawing. Is just looking at the back of your head. Doesn't matter. Looks at you - even the back of your head - with complete adoration.

You're just making a quick little modification to his otherwise pristine skin. A reminder for the morning. 

Recapping the pen, you reach over the bar to pop it down, not bothering to call Yeonjun back over. 

With the prettiest smile on his face, Jeongguk nods as he looks at your work. It's two words. A dozen stars. Poorly drawn birds and an even worse disco ball. In your handwriting is a label Jeongguk never wants to wash away: Byeol's Boyfriend.

"Yeah," he hums ever so sweetly. "That's me."

[courtingchaos]

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

I didn’t edit this, barely read it over, and it has no title. Just trying something new with spitting some stuff out to get the ideas moving again. These cogs are frozen.

Professor Munson Masterlist

“You’re home early!” You shout from upstairs.

Ed shrugs out of his coat and throws his bag on the bench by the door. “Yeah. I was trying to beat the traffic before it started snowing.” He’d gotten out of the parking garage and directly into said traffic, cursing and yelling the whole time. Two hours later he’s finally home albeit in a sour mood.

“It’s snowing?” You’re moving between rooms, he can hear your voice shifting and he has to stop himself from telling you to look out a window. Instead he just nods into the empty foyer while he empties his pockets onto the table there and he wonders when he got so much furniture that he has dedicated entryway pieces.

“Are you in a good mood or should I leave you alone for a bit?” Your head pops over the railing with a smile.

“Why?”

“I have a surprise but I don’t want a bad mood to ruin it.”

“I’m not gonna-”

“I didn’t say you I said your mood.”

Ed sighs and rubs his eyes till his vision color bursts. “Give me a minute.”

“Okay.” Gracious as always to his old man moods you move into his office and he can hear you futzing with his set up in there. The static of speakers coming to life and the shuffling of his records follows him into the kitchen where he stares into an open fridge with no purpose.

It’s November and that means it’s time for his brain to betray him and remind him of his mother. He always does better on the anniversary of her death but something about her birthday gets him. 51 missed celebrations and if he lets his thoughts linger he’ll have another breakdown in the kitchen. This morning had been an accident, his shuffle throwing on ‘Stand By Me’ and Ed had the pleasure of crying into his English muffin before he realized he was running late. He’d deftly avoided music for the rest of the day and driven the whole two hours in silence out of fear of getting stuck in gridlock and getting sucked into another crying jag.

You’ve given him space the past few days with his distant behavior. Noncommittal grunts answering your questions and quiet stares that follow you around the house. He knows he’s being difficult but he can’t seem to pull himself out of it. However you seem to be his saving grace, taking his silence and doing what you can with it. Gentle touches to let him know you’re there, fingers combing through his hair in the middle of the night when he should be asleep. Instead of him bringing you coffee on Sunday you’d gotten up a full hour before him to complete the ritual. Crouched beside the bed to wake him up quietly, a light finger along the shell of his ear.

“Good morning.”

“Mm.”

“It’s cold out today.”

“Then get back in bed.” He grapples at your hand lazily to try and pull you over him and you let him. Flopped over his chest awkwardly he wraps warm arms around you and for a moment you think he’s already drifting off again.

“Ed?”

A beat before he takes a deep breath and you feel the catch under you. “I miss my mom.”

“Oh hun.” It’s the last thing you say for a while. Fingers card through soft curls and hold his head to your chest and he gets to be vulnerable for a while. Head buried in you, he lets his coffee go cold.

He thumps up the stairs slowly and you come out to greet him on the top step.

“You feeling better?” You’re hiding something behind you, hands tucked tight behind your back to keep his prying eyes away.

“Moderately. What’s the surprise?”

“I’m not telling you out here, come on.” You hold an empty hand out to him to guide him into his office and into his chair.

“So. I spent some money today.”

“Is that the surprise?”

“Kind of. There was an estate sale down the block, you remember Mr. Donaghue?”

“Yeah, the old man who yelled at me for having pumpkins on my stoop after Halloween?”

“Exactly.” You giggle at his outburst. “Well as you know, he passed away.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t be like that.” You circle around the desk to his record player and point a finger at him. “He wasn’t all bad, he just didn’t like pumpkins.”

Ed hums again but you continue, grabbing a square package wrapped in newspaper to drop in his lap. It’s heavy when it hits and he gives you a confused look.

“It turns out he was quite the music collector. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many 8-tracks in my life.”

“Did you buy me a stack of 8-tracks?”

You swat at his knee and lean on the corner of his desk. “Just open it.”

The top record sleeve in the stack is red and blue and worn around the edges. Otis Redding smiles up at him and he can feel his throat get tight.

“I heard you listening to it this morning. Sorry.” Your smile is a little sad. “I know these aren’t her’s, but these are all original pressings.”

Under Otis is a sleeve in plastic, Muddy Waters’ face turned to the ceiling. He can hear the the mournful picking of ‘Louisiana Blues’ coming from a distant memory that he’s been pushing back for a few days.

“They cut me a nice deal, his kids. I told them about you loosing your collection and his son was moved.” You laugh and run your foot up his leg, a soothing motion without smothering him in a hug. Eddie is speechless. A stack of records that rivaled his moms collection. Etta and Eartha, John Lee and T-Bone. There’s a few early Bill Withers and Marvin Gaye.

“This is, uh.” His voice catches and he can’t look up from his new stack of treasures.

“I know you’ve got a lot of these already. Records and digital, but I saw the dates on them and couldn’t help myself.”

“No I’m…this is very-” Eddie clears his throat. He brings a record up to his face to sniff inside the sleeve and a tear escapes finally. “Oh fuck me, they smell the same.”

You’re behind his chair to wrap your arms around his shoulders, cheek resting on his head while he quietly disintegrates. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you upset.”

“I’m not upset.” He pats your hands resting on his chest before he stands to put the Muddy Waters record on. It skips and statics for a moment before catching on piano keys. He stares down at the record spinning and listens to a pressing just a few years older than him.

“This might be the most old man thing I’ve ever done.” He tries to crack a joke and thankfully it lands with you. A soft giggle behind him before you slide your arms around again to hook in front of him. You’re warm against his back, grounding. Solid and present while he gets lost in his memories.

“Did I ever tell you about the blues bar my mom worked at?”

“No, that sounds amazing.”

“Yeah,” He wraps his arms around his middle to hold over your own arms. “That’s where my dad met her.”

You make a sound of approval between his shoulder blades and nuzzle into him. “So he had good taste in music at least.”

Eddie’s turn to laugh. “Eh, sometimes.”

“So what was she doing?”

He knows you’re goading him into a better mood, something you’re very good at. You have a remarkable gift to plant new memories next to the old. Roots not full of rot, uncrowded by the same trauma, grow around the old and bring green sprouts back into old hurt. He’s sure you’d say something similar about him but right now he’s misty eyed and finding old memories new again. Rose tinted for sure, but with new color in the margins.

“Well, bartending. She knew the night manager, family friend or something, but she wanted to get into shows free so…”

[sharess-festhall]

750 Confessions Posted!

Celebrating another milestone let's take a look at which character has got the most confessions now!

1️⃣ Halsin - still in the lead with 105 confessions!

2️⃣ Astarion - keeps his place at runner up with 100!

3️⃣ Wyll - with 92 confessions!

4️⃣ Gale - with 82 confessions!

5️⃣ Gortash - coming up from the 7th row to the top 5 with 51 confessions!

The rest is as follows:

6️⃣ Raphael - 47

7️⃣ Karlach - 43

8️⃣ Rolan - 39

9️⃣ Durge - 26

🔟 Minthara, Shadowheart - 23

Aradin, Minsc - 22

Cazador - 19

Lae'zel - 17

Rugan, Zevlor - 16

Jaheira, Mizora - 11

Orin, Dammon - 9

Haarlep - 8

Aylin, Ketheric - 6

Abdirak, Emperor, Isobel, Kar'niss - 5

[poppadom0912]

By my side

Characters: Kelly Severide x Platonic!Reader, Matt Casey x Platonic!Reader, Sylvie Brett x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: Toxic men, abuse, protective firefighters.

Summary: You should've been better but at least your family is by your side.

A/N: For the sake of this, there'll be two ambulances which means two PIC's.

This has been sitting in my drafts for months unfinished and I suddenly decided to finish it after work on the train. Also couldn't be asked to proofread so sorry for any mistakes!! And I know this aesthetic thing sucks but it's been a long day and I'm tired, so sorry again. 😅😅

Being a paramedic had always been your dream.

Growing up in a first responder household: firefighter dad and patrol officer mum, paramedics were a constant presence around them. So, it was only natural that was were you gravitated towards.

Following this, working at firehouse 51 was a given since that was where your father was a Captain at till he became battalion chief and moved to another house.

Your family had history in this house, making it somewhat sacred ground for anyone who shared your family's surname.

Yes, there had been times when you had to prove your worth and that you weren't a nepo baby but your family in everything but blood were always somehow five steps ahead of you.

So it only made sense that when you started to skip going to Molly's and skimping on details about what you did during your day offs, that they were concerned and confused to say the least.

Six months later, after nearly holding an intervention, you introduced everyone to your boyfriend Mason.

It was safe to say, everyone had their suspicions, even after being together for a year. All of which you excused, diverting and switching blame.

*****

You thought that you were finally happy with how everything in your life was settling but all of a sudden, fate decided that stability wasn't necessary for you.

Shouting and constant arguing should've been the first sign, blaring as bright as the sun, warning and shouting at you to break it off before reaching the one year mark but you briskly ignored it and marched on.

Then, the drinking problems, anger problems and impatience were made alight when you started living together. (he invited you to move in with him when celebrating one year together)

You found yourself not liking the man he started becoming the longer you were together. It irked you to no end and you constantly were skittish around him, finding it harder to have a civil conversation with him the more time passed.

It seemed that your feelings somehow transferred themselves over to your work life because you were suddenly snapping at the stand-in paramedic for Sylvie when she was sick for a petty reason.

The PIC in you forced you to immediately apologise before Kelly dragged you into his office, Matt following without a word.

Naturally, the three of you including Sylvie had a bond of 'commanding officers' as you were all in charge in some degree and over several years, the work relationship blossomed and the four of you were as thick as thieves.

It also helped that Matt and Kelly worked with your father and knew you from their pre-firefighter and your pre-paramedic days.

Under their concern filled gazes, you found yourself crumbling, eyes all of a sudden filled with tears from the stress of it all.

They couldn't help but confirm their fears which you tried to deny incessantly, for some reason defending Jason and explaining that this could all be fixed and everything would be back to normal in no time.

If only you didn't.

*****

Over the past year, everyone found you changing.

The stern but loving PIC you once were had become but a memory. It was as though you were a shell of your past self, something of which you agreed with.

Mason was draining the life out of you and the only time you weren't losing yourself to him was during your 24 hour shifts before being surrounded by him for the next 48.

You tried your best to leave, you really did but at some point in your now two year relationship, things took an abrupt turn and Mason had become this toxic, controlling man who has a newfound urge to resort to violence when you were being your true self.

Being PIC meant you had an amount of power under your title and after many years of work, you had perfected your nature. It's why you and Sylvie were so good at what you did; you used force when necessary and compassion was always on hand.

Over the course of the past year, you found yourself on the end of many interventions held by Matt, Kelly and Sylvie.

With all the reasons in the world, they argued and argued with you, laying out the easiest ways to break you free. They were as desperate as you were at this point to get you to break up with Jason. They missed and needed the old you back.

Unbeknownst to you, they schemed behind your back, trying and failing to convince you to leave Mason for good but you found yourself pathetically laughing at them before going home to endure hell.

You struggled to understand your behaviour. Abuse to this degree was something you never you experience firsthand and you would never wish it upon your worst enemies.

On sleepless nights, you constantly contemplated why you wouldn't leave. You wanted to, you really did but then you could hear him whisper in your ear and you remained firmly glued to his side.

So badly did you want to rip your arm out his earth shattering grip and run back home, to the safety of love and familiarity.

Your final decision was set in stone when he finally made his mark a month ago, fingertips bruised into your wrist when he wouldn't let you leave his car in front of the firehouse.

"Alright then, thank you for dropping me off. I'll see you tomorrow." You said, pressing your lips together in a tight smile, hand reaching for the door handle while the other fiddled with the handle of your tote bag.

He replied with something, you weren't too sure because you were already out the car, closing the door with practised precision and gentleness.

Your expressionless face brightened at the sight of your colleagues/friends/basically siblings at this point. The firehouse and all its inhabitants were truly your saving grace and without it, you weren't too sure where you would be.

Just as you were going to walk up the apron to meet them halfway, you were being pulled back by a random force. It was so sudden that you dropped your bag, your things spilling out as they rolled away.

You yelped, attracting the attention of those who weren't previously paying attention to your arrival in their mortal enemies car.

Scrunching your eyebrows, you turned to Mason in confusion, your eyes following the hand gripping your wrist to his face you were once infatuated with.

"What the hell Mason?!" You said with gritted teeth, trying to escape but he wouldn't let go. "Stop, your making a scene."

Before he could reply, several shouts came from behind you and before you knew it, you were being pulled into comforting arms as big and bulky men dealt with Mason.

"Oh Y/N." Sylvie's heart melted for you while it ignited in flames because of Mason. With your bag in one of her hands, she somehow collected all of your things, she brought you into her arms and hugged you tighter than a koala.

"Let me see your hand." She muttered under her breath, unbothered by the fuming men huddling around you in a protective barrier, on guard as they watched Matt and Kelly deal with Mason on the street.

She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth at the finger shaped bruise on your wrist, you copying her when she lightly touched it. Despite her angelic exterior, you saw a red glint flash across her eyes, one you rarely saw but had seen several times before on the rare occasion.

If this was her reaction, then you were dreading Matt and Kelly's.

And your feelings were very much justified because as soon as they sent Mason away, you found yourself being subject to a very strong worded conversation.

They played the role of overprotective brothers perfectly. With the help of detectives who you were lucky to call good friends, your plan was set in stone and would take a week to fully come together.

Despite how meticulously everything was planned, you somehow ended up in the emergency room. Surrounded by doctors and nurses you recognised, you felt their sympathy and felt nearly emotional with the care that greeted you.

Thanking Maggie, you smiled and watch the charge nurse leave but you weren't alone for even a minute before three certain people came barging in.

With wide eyes, they drank in your slouched figure.

Matt looked alarmed, Kelly disgruntled and Sylvie on the edge of a breakdown.

You choked out a watery laugh, harshly swallowing back tears as you shook your head and blinked repeatedly. Releasing a shaky breath, you felt your chest tighten as your oxygen was constricted before it was all treated when enveloped in the loving arms of your 'siblings'.

Had it not been for your intense emotional state, you would've barked out in laughter at the anger displayed by Kelly who imitated a caged lion, Matt who spewed words Hank Voight would find offensive and Sylvie who played parts of a mother comforting their daughter but also Satan prepared to burn and punish sinners.

Your pain was muted by their presence alone. With their constant love and never-ending companionship by your side, you were sure to heal.