#Everything hurt too much and I didn’t know why

[juniperskye]

Corruption

Based on the following ask: Aaron with the youngest and newest member of the bau, taking her virginity in his office after hours, corrupting her in the most unprofessional way but praising her for being such a quick learner – I kind of went genius, girly-girl, virgin reader…but enjoy!!!

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

SMUT

Word count: 1772

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (reader is early 20’s), explicit language, virgin reader, she’s also a genius and kind of a girly-girl, naïve reader, slight d/s dynamic, soft dom Hotch, corruption kink, lots of praise, use of sir, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than female anatomy, use of pet names, fingering, semi-public sex, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this), choking, pure filth tbh…let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

It wasn’t the right time. That is what you said, time and time again, but then the right time never really came. First it was the high school boys were all too immature, then the college guys are all too pushy and unserious…and let’s face it, the guys in the FBI academy, well they were all too horny and desperate. So, you put all your focus into your studies and hard work. Who needed sex when you were achieving success at such a young age.

You were the youngest ever agent to join the BAU, even more so than Spencer. You’d been so motivated in school that you had dual majored during both your bachelor’s and master’s programs, finishing them in record time and completing your PHD while in the academy.

--

When you sauntered into Aaron’s office that day, trailing behind the director, he thought perhaps you were Cruz’s new assistant. With your tight little skirt and your long-painted nails, there was no way a sweet thing like you could be his new field agent.

Until you were.

“Hotchner, here is your latest recruit!” Cruz announced. “Be nice, she’s here to stay.”

You stepped forward and offered your hand to shake, quietly introducing yourself. Aaron took your hand, shaking it firmly before releasing it and gesturing for you to take a seat.

“You’re not at all what I was expecting.” He began.

“I hear that a lot. I don’t think people expect someone as accomplished as me to look this way.” You shift your gaze downward.

“How do you mean?” Aaron inquired.

“I just mean, I think people expect me to be a stereotypical nerd, seeing as I put my education first for so long. I don’t think they expect me to have put so much effort into my appearance as well.” You shrug.

Aaron was rendered speechless. You were right, when he had seen your long list of accomplishments, he was picturing someone a little more like Reid. Not a bombshell in a light pink blouse, tight skirt, heels and long pink fingernails.

And thus began Aaron babying you. He did everything in his power to keep you safe…which was becoming increasingly difficult as you continued to prove how qualified you were for this team.

--

He had been devastated when you’d been hurt the first time. It had been a slash of a knife to the shoulder, you’d ducked just in time to avoid your face. Aaron had been quick and pretty rough when taking that particular unsub down.

So, you see, it had been months like this and while…things were good, Aaron was overbearing, you were more than capable of holding your own and you didn’t understand why he was treating you this way.

That’s why you confronted him.

--

“Okay Hotch, what’s your problem?” You asked, entering his office unannounced.

“Excuse me?” He questioned you as you closed the door behind you and made yourself comfortable in the chair across from him.

“You know full well that I am capable of doing this job, so why do you purposefully hold me back?”

“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to protect you.” He justified.

“I don’t need you to protect me though.” You huffed.

“The fact that you think that only proves how innocent you are.”

“I – I’m not innocent.” You shook your head.

Aaron clicked his tongue, standing to walk behind you, letting his hands graze your shoulders gently. He leaned down, his warm breath hugging the shell of your ear, whispering.

“I think you are…but you don’t want to be.”

You shivered, leaning into his touch. “I don’t.” You breathed.

“You want to be bad, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You gasped.

“Then be bad sweetheart.”

--

Aaron walked over to ensure the bullpen was clear. He then locked his office door and pulled the blinds closed. He returned to his seat behind his desk, sitting and then wiggling his finger at you, signaling for you to come to him.

You stood and tentatively made your way around his desk, stopping just short of being in front of him. He took your hand and gently pulled you to stand between his legs. His hands slid down your sides, stopping at the outer part of your knees, tapping softly.

You looked at him with confusion…unsure of what it was he was asking you. Your confusion was answered when you saw the look in his eyes. You slowly dropped to your knees, your palms resting on his thighs.

“God, you’re like a vision. So sweet, on your knees for me.” Aaron caressed your cheek.

You reached for his belt, pulling it open, while he let his hand tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. Your mouth fell open in a gasp, his pupils were blown, full of lust. He let his thumb slip into your mouth, groaning at the sight of you.

You continued to work his dress slacks open, desperately trying to free his cock now. You were more than ready to have him in your mouth…but your nerves began to creep in. Aaron, ever the profiler, knew immediately.

“You’re doing great baby. I’ll walk you through it, don’t worry.”

You wrapped your hand around him, your fingers just barely out of reach of your thumb. As if that wasn’t enough, his length was quite shocking as well. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to take all of him, but you wanted to try.

“What if I…I mean – I want to be good.” You stuttered. “For you.”

Aaron groaned “You’re going to be amazing, sweet girl. Just start slow, it’ll come naturally.”

So, you did. Hesitantly at first, taking just his tip in your mouth, then moving down little by little. And judging by the sounds Aaron was making, you knew you were doing okay. You continued bobbing your head up and down, hallowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around the tip, letting Aaron’s grunts drive your movements.

--

Aaron gently pulls you off of him, helping you back to your feet before lifting you onto his desk.  He stood, invading your space, your gaze shifts upwards to meet his…you just knew you looked completely wrecked for him.

Aaron leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss. He nipped at your lower lip, eliciting a gasp from you. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek and the other sliding under your skirt.

It wasn’t until his fingers grazed the front of your panties that you whined, practically begging for him to do more.

“Please…”

“Please what?” He teased.

“Please sir. Touch me.” You huffed.

Aaron groaned at the name and allowed his fingers to move passed your panties, pressing them through your slick folds. Your hands moved behind you, palms down, holding yourself up. Your head fell back and before long, Aaron’s fingers were thrusting into you. He kept a steady pace, not wanting to work you up too much before he got the chance to fuck you.

“Ugh, God yes. I-it feels s-so good.” You moaned.

“That’s it baby, you’re doing so good for me. Take it like a good girl.” He praised.

Your hips were chasing his every thrust, begging for your release. He pressed further, the heel of his palm adding a delicious pressure to your clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge.

“Please Aaron, I’m so close.” You begged.

“Not yet sweet girl, I want to feel you cum around my cock.” He nipped your earlobe.

--

Aaron pulled his fingers from your heat, taking a step back, he pulled you with him and spun you around, pressing your front into his desk. His hands slid under your skirt and pulled your panties down.

“Aaron…I-I’ve never done this before.”

“I know baby girl, it’s okay. I’m gonna take real good care of you.”

You arched back into his touch; your body was shaking with anticipation. Aaron leaned down and pressed a kiss to your shoulder before he nudged the head of his cock at your entrance.

“You ready for me honey?”

“God yes.”

With that, he pressed forward, fully sliding his cock into you. You cried out and he did his best to soothe you, wiping the tear from your cheek. His movement caused you to let out a sharp hiss.

“You alright sweetheart?”

You nodded, reaching behind you to grab at any part of him you could reach. He placed his hand into your grasp and held still, wanting to let you adjust to him properly. After a few moments, you pressed yourself back, testing the waters to see if the pain had subsided. Aaron quickly caught on to your motion and all hell broke loose.

--

Aaron’s hips snapped into yours over and over, he had your arms pinned behind you as he held you down against his desk for leverage. You were a mess beneath him, tears and mascara running down your face, your skirt bunched up around your waist, your hair fallen completely out of your neat hairstyle. Deep grunts and soft cries filled the room as you both neared your peak. He had you falling apart completely, surely ruining you for any other man.

“It’s like this pussy was made for me sweetheart; she’s gripping me so tight.”

“Oh my god Aaron, I-I think, I’m close.” You cried.

“That’s it honey, cum for me.”

Your orgasm took over as your entire body shook. Your screams could be heard all throughout the office. Aaron shifted his hands, so they gripped your shoulders, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, desperately chasing his end.

With a few final thrusts, Aaron let out a low growl, filling you with his hot seed. You could feel it dripping out of you with every lazy thrust. When he finally stilled, he leaned down over you, pressing kisses to your neck, whispering praise of how well you did for your first time and how he couldn’t wait to ruin you again and again.

--

Aaron slipped out of you with a hiss and tucked himself back into his slacks. He pulled you up and turned you around, helping you back into your panties and pressing his hand to your core.

“I want you to hold it in sweet girl. Because when I get you home, I’m gonna fuck it back into you.” He pressed his lips to yours once more.

You met him with the same amount of passion, only pulling away when he did.

“So…what does this mean?” Your glassy eyes met his.

“You’re mine baby. Forever.”

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[poetic-vulgarity]

ʍoN ǝW ɹɐǝH II - Karina x Reader

Word Count: ~ 5K

Prompt: Ever since they were trainees, Y/N knew just what buttons to push to frustrate Jimin.

Maybe she took things a bit too far when she decided to cheat on her.

Tags: Angst, Cheating, Ghosting

Part I, Part 2

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

"I already told you I want the schedule changed!"

Jimin rolled her eyes at Y/N's irresponsible, petty, selfish behavior. "And I already told you, your schedule isn't being changed. Suck it up and deal with it!"

Y/N felt her words get stuck in her throat for a little while. You know? That feeling of injustice that just takes over you?

"This is ridiculous! I'm not flying 14 hours to Chicago for a four-minute shoot. Even you have to be dense to not see the problem!"

It was two o'clock in the morning, and they had a packed schedule the next day. Jimin could be in bed, like the rest of the members. Yet, there she was, in the middle of the living room, listening to Y/N.

"You're acting like an idiot," Jimin said, crossing her arms over her chest. Her glare was icy. Then again, she barely looked at Y/N without it anymore. "You signed a contract. Just follow it and keep your mouth shut."

"I'm acting like an idiot?" Y/N hissed, hands balled into fists at her sides. She felt like she was choking with rage.

The cold, unforgiving look in Jimin's eyes took her off guard even more—the way the older girl was glaring at her, like she was nothing more than a little nuisance.

She didn’t think, or even realize she was doing it, but she took a step forward until she was right in front of Jimin, staring her down.

"Had this been Minjeong, Aeri, or Ning, you would've fought to have the schedule changed."

"Well, it's not, is it?" 

Y/N swallowed hard. She didn’t know why those words hurt more.

"I'm your member as well," Y/N gritted her teeth, fists so tight her nails dug into the rough skin of her palm. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Fuck our relationship—you could at least treat me like your member. Do your job as a leader."

"I'll be a leader when you start being a member," Jimin scowled. "Because I'm done with your attitude. You're selfish, and all you do is create problems for the group. When have you actually been useful for us? Or do you serve only to create those stupid headlines when you decide to be a dumbass now and then?"

That made Y/N flinch. Jimin sounded disgusted.

"Fuck you, Jimin." She spat out, grabbing her jacket and shoes as she made her way to the front door of the dorm.

Jimin wanted to follow her.

She wanted to scream at Y/N too. Tell her how much of an idiot she was.

But no. Jimin was the older one between them. She was the leader of the group. It was her job to be the level-headed one between the two of them.

Her hands shook with pent-up rage. But she didn't say anything. She didn't follow Y/N to apologize.

Jimin stood alone in the middle of their dorm, feeling more empty than she ever had.

In the end, it was just another fight.

Another one of their usual fights.

And everything went back to how it used to be.

They went to Chicago. Y/N was there for a few hours before catching a plane to Italy for another event, then she returned to South Korea.

SM Town was close, and the girls needed to practice.

The fact that Y/N was exhausted, jet-lagged, and a little sick from the photoshoots outside in the winter changed nothing.

"Hello, guys! How are you?"

They waved at the camera, filming the scenes for a backstage vlog that would be posted on their channel.

"Today, we are here to practice for our upcoming performance at SM Town. As always, we are very excited!"

It was Giselle's turn to speak, so Jimin took a step back, arms wrapped around Minjeong's waist as she rested her head on the smaller girl's shoulder from behind.

Y/N could practically see the comments coming their way.

'Winrina is perfect'

'I want someone who looks at me the way Karina looks at Winter'

'They should just kiss already'

It was inevitable to find them in every single video where the two were a bit more touchy.

Y/N felt like a fool.

Jimin and her weren't together anymore. They broke up months ago, and yet…

When Jimin looked at Minjeong, Y/N could only see the love and adoration in her eyes.

She felt sick to her stomach.

She hung around in the background while the girls filmed the video, perking up with a comment or two just to make it seem like she was really there.

Other than that, she didn’t really speak.

She was too exhausted. Her body felt heavy. And it was starting to get difficult to keep a smile on her face. Her throat felt sore. Her eyes felt droopy.

She wondered if Jimin could feel her staring at her and Minjeong from behind Aeri. It was hard not to, when the older girl kept nuzzling her face on Minjeong's neck, making the singer giggle.

It wasn't something that was totally surprising, though. Not when it had happened so many times before.

It was during interviews, shows, recording sessions. It was in the studio, in the dance practice room, in the streets, at home.

With Minjeong, Aeri, and Ning. But mostly with Minjeong.

Again, not surprising. But it felt rather lonely for Y/N.

The group had always been so close. She had once considered Minjeong her soulmate, Giselle her older sister, Ning her little one.

Now they only looked at her when the cameras were on.

She understood them, in some way. In the other way, she was constantly angry at them.

No one had given her a chance to explain herself when the entire cheating incident occurred. She knew it looked bad, but they had been teammates for years. Minjeong had been her best friend since before they even met Jimin... and they couldn't even hear her out?

So, yeah, she felt petty enough to be mad at all of them for a while. It was a flame that still burned in her chest, but more softly now. She was getting tired.

"Y/N, what about you, how are you feeling about the dance routine?" The cameraman suddenly turned to her.

Y/N took a sharp breath in, her eyes widening slightly at the sudden question.

She looked towards the camera and sent it a smile.

"I'm excited," Y/N said, her voice coming out a little croaky. "I'm sure we're going to give the best performance we can. We've been practicing really hard for it. I'm very proud of all the members."

And she meant it.

They were like perfect machines on stage, able to work together and put on a good performance. It was almost as if they could tell what the other members wanted.

It had been what made Aespa such a hit in the first place.

But you can't be hits without a lot of work. And a lot of work happened to be the biggest problem in Y/N's life.

Only one day before SMTown, the girls were invited to a radio show, and management only refused offers when they literally couldn't find a single vacant spot in Aespa's schedule.

So, there they were.

"What is Winter's favorite color?"

Jimin was quick to jump on her seat, "Ivory!"

A small ding echoed around the radio studio, and a big smile took over the leader's face as she celebrated.

"Very well! We are at 6 points for Y/N, 4 points for Karina, Winter, and Giselle, and 3 points for Ning. This last question will either decide the 2nd place of the game or equalize Ning to the second place," the radio show announced as loud music played in the background.

"And the last question is... what is Y/N's favourite ice cream flavor?"

Jimin's hand flew to the button, along with Winter's, Ning's, and Giselle's.

The answer was obvious for them. They had spent countless hours making fun of Y/N for it.

"Cinnamon!" Jimin was the first to respond.

"Yeah, she likes cinnamon ice cream," Winter grimaced. "It's disgusting."

"Don't know how she eats it."

"That is correct!" The announcer turned his card around to reveal the answer, and a small smile appeared on Y/N's face.

"Jimin wins second place!"

Yeah, Y/N didn't want to let Jimin win. "Actually, I'm allergic to cinnamon."

Everyone froze for a few seconds. Karina, in particular, was quick to frown, head snapping to Y/N. She knew all of Y/N's allergies. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"You're not."

Y/N chuckled, looking around the room as she noticed how heavy the atmosphere was getting. "I am," she let out quietly. "It's quite recent."

Jimin was confused, to say the least. Y/N loved cinnamon. She liked it in sweets, ice creams, perfumes. Hell, Jimin switched her perfume for a cinnamon one when she found out Y/N liked it, years ago. She still used it to this day.

"Since when?"

"A few months ago." Y/N sent her a knowing look before turning to the host. "I say no one gets the point since they got it wrong."

Jimin refused to believe what she was hearing. 

Was Y/N lying?

She had almost missed these little spats between them.

Almost.

"No, no! How am I supposed to know your allergies? I deserve the point!" Jimin argued in the most polite way possible, but Y/N could see the competitive fire behind her eyes.

"As the leader..." Y/N was definitely going there. "Isn't it... your obligation?"

Jimin opened her mouth to respond but Y/N was already talking again.

"You know what," she said, shrugging her shoulders. There was a small smile on her face. She was enjoying this—enjoying how irritated Jimin was getting, how competitive she was getting, how flustered she was. Enjoying how much it took for her to swallow the words that really wanted to come out. "Never mind, just give her the point. She needs it anyway."

And Jimin had to fight back the urge to glare at the other girl.

The host laughed loudly and pointed at Y/N, who had been mostly quiet during the entire show. "I like you!"

Y/N smiled back at him, and they soon moved on to another part of the radio show.

She didn't think much of the entire interaction, but apparently, Jimin did.

Y/N stepped away for a little while once the show had ended, needing to use the bathroom. The managers and members decided to make their way to the vans and told Y/N to join them when she was ready.

Which is why she wasn't expecting to come out of the bathroom and see her ex-girlfriend leaning against the wall of the secluded hallway.

Jimin turned to look at her when she heard Y/N coming out of the bathroom, looking more refreshed than before.

She let out a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. "Don't you think you're being a bit petty?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed together but face soft, expression neutral.

Y/N was genuinely confused. "Sorry?"

Jimin let out another sigh. "What you said back there. During the show?" she asked, a little annoyed with Y/N. She always managed to make her emotions flare up.

"With the cinnamon?" Y/N shrugged. "What about it?"

"You lied just to get a rise out of me," Jimin grumbled out, looking at Y/N incredulously.

Y/N almost chuckled. "I didn't lie."

"Are you kidding me?" Jimin took a step closer, eyes narrowing into a glare. "You've loved cinnamon your entire life! Every perfume I bought, everything I ever baked for you had cinnamon. Hell, I'm still wearing the perfume right now!"

Y/N nodded, taking a step back as her back pressed against the bathroom door. "Yeah, maybe you should back off a little."

"Are you kidding me?!" Jimin said, hands on her hips now. She was frustrated with her ex-girlfriend, more than she'd been in a while. "You wanted the point so bad you had to lie about it like a child?"

Then it hit her.

What Y/N said.

"What do you mean by 'I should back off a little'?" she asked, taking another step closer.

"I mean, back off!" Y/N pressed a hand to Jimin's shoulder to nudge her away. She was gentle, but her glare wasn't. In only a few seconds, she was walking down the hallway again.

Jimin watched her go, the feeling of Y/N brushing against her skin sending warm chills up her spine. She couldn't help but let her body lean forward, subconsciously wanting to chase after the younger girl.

What was she doing? Why was she acting like this?

"Y/N—"

Y/N was gone already because she knew arguing with Jimin didn't take her anywhere.

She knew they would throw insults at each other until one of them had enough and left.

And she knew that because that's what always happened. And it would continue to happen, for as long as Jimin and the other members refused to hear her out.

So, she got inside the waiting van, put her headphones on, and closed her eyes, pretending she was far away instead of there.

Jimin got into the van shortly after, sitting next to Ning in the very back. She let her eyes wander across the van, taking in the way Minjeong and Aeri interacted with each other—laughing, giggling, smiling, and talking.

And then there was Y/N.

Honestly, Jimin tried to keep the cheating between the two of them. She had never wanted their relationship to affect the group. But Minjeong happened to find her mid panic attack, right after seeing Y/N with the man, and Jimin just couldn't keep the secret to herself. She made Minjeong promise to not treat Y/N differently after that—the two had been best friends long before Jimin appeared in their lives.

But Minjeong was simply unable to look at Y/N in the same way. And when Ning and Aeri noticed the attitude, they were quick to get the answers to their questions as well.

Y/N cheated on Jimin. Y/N was a cheater.

And cheaters didn't deserve kindness.

So, the dynamics within the group shifted, leaving Y/N on one end of the spectrum and the rest of the members on the other.

Jimin bit down on her bottom lip, leaning her head against the side of the van. There was some part of her that still cared about Y/N and this whole situation. She tried her best not to, but she was still so in love with the girl. And she understood her anger.

But that didn't change what had happened. Y/N had broken her trust. She had betrayed her and she had hurt her.

Jimin was lost in her thoughts before someone shook her shoulder. "Huh?" She asked, looking at Ning with a frown.

Ning pointed to the car window, "We're here."

The rest of the members were getting out of the van already. Jimin nodded, grabbing her own bag from beside her before getting out as well.

The five of them were quick to get home and settle in for the night.

Their schedule was impossible these days, so they could never wait to finally get comfortable in their beds.

It was what usually happened. They get comfortable in their b—

"Where the hell are you going?" Jimin was on her way to her bedroom, fresh out of a shower, when she happened to cross a fully dressed and prepared Y/N.

"Out." Y/N said bluntly, not even looking back at Jimin as she pulled a leather jacket over her shoulders. She ran a hand through her hair, a pair of heels in her hands.

Jimin's jaw almost dropped. "You're going out?" She asked, following the girl out towards the living room. She looked good. Really good. Her makeup was perfect, black shirt hugging her body. She always knew how to dress up.

Jimin crossed her arms over her chest, "Where?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N let out a sigh.

This was the last thing she wanted to do.

Explain herself to Jimin.

"Just out."

Jimin shook her head, "It's almost one in the morning, Y/N. You're going nowhere."

Y/N halted by the door, jaw clenched as she turned to Jimin. Her expression was surprisingly calm and, if Jimin didn't know how to read her so well, she might have believed her to be civil.

"Since when are you the one who get's to tell me where I can and can't go?"

Jimin rolled her eyes, "Do you know how many creeps are out at this time? Just stay in."

"Only creep I see is you." Y/N huffed, reaching for the door handle to finally leave.

At that, Jimin let out a scoff. "You weren't saying that when you begged to come back to me after cheating on me."

Y/N almost scoffed. Bringing up their relationship and the cheating always felt like a low blow. "And look who's begging now."

"You—" Jimin's body tensed up, "You're pathetic! You'll go out there and do what? Get attacked and stabbed on the sidewalk?" Jimin asked, almost shouting at her ex-girlfriend.

"Close." Y/N smiled, "I'm gonna get laid."

That made Jimin's breath hitch. She could feel the way her blood boiled and her face heated up. She couldn't let herself lose control of the situation.

"Yeah," Jimin let out, sarcasm dripping from her words, "A new boyfriend. Of course. Cheating on me just wasn't enough, huh?"

"We can talk about it if you want. You know, it's not like we ever got to do that." Y/N was tired of the backhanded shade thrown her way every day.

"Oh, you wanna talk?" Jimin rolled her eyes, taking a few steps closer to where Y/N was standing. "You cheated on me and now you wanna talk? And what good will that do?"

Y/N's heart broke at the accusation. It still hurt to believe that Jimin would think so little of her.

What was the point in even explaining herself? If Jimin didn't trust her enough to even hear her out, then there was no salvation.

Her eyes dropped to the ground as a sigh escaped her lips, "Forget it."

"No, no. You wanted to talk, let's talk!" Jimin said, taking a step closer to Y/N. Her eyes full of anger, sadness, and confusion.

She really wanted to hear what Y/N had to say. She didn't know why, but she desperately wanted to hear it. Maybe she wanted some kind of validation for her own feelings. For the emotions she was still trying to get over.

"Explain yourself, Y/N. Try to explain yourself."

"So you want to hear me out?"

Jimin let out a sigh, "Please?"

She really did. She needed to understand what had happened. 

Y/N was the sweetest person ever. She was the nicest and kindest person Jimin knew.

So how could she do this to her?

"No." Y/N shook her head.

Jimin felt her heart sink in her chest, the little hope she felt getting fainter. "No?" She asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Stings, huh?" Y/N felt all her buried emotions surfacing, "Trying to make things work, only to be shut down? That was the response you gave me seven months ago, when I tried talking to you. And when I tried again a week after, and the week after that, and the following weeks- the fucking months following that!"

Jimin's jaw clenched. She remembered that. She remembered every detail of it. It hurt.

She wanted to take back everything she said back then. She wanted to take back every mean word, but it was too late. She couldn't go back and change how she felt. She couldn't undo it, but she wished she had let Y/N have peace of mind.

"You cheated on me, Y/N. Did you really expect me to be calm? To be gentle and nice when you hurt me?"

A small, broken smile appeared on Y/N's face. "I just wanted you to hear me out. Instead, you shut me out and turned the members against me."

She finally opened the door, "Very leaderlike of you, I must say."

"What the hell are you talking about? None of them turned against you because of me." Jimin shook her head. "They turned against you because you cheated on me!"

She could feel her blood boiling, the way her face heated. "They're my friends! Of course they were going to take my side!"

"Yeah, they were my friends too."

Jimin bit down on her bottom lip. She knew what Y/N said was true. But it didn't change how hurt the members were. Cheating was one of the worst things a person could do. And that was why none of them spoke to Y/N anymore.

"Maybe if you didn't get drunk with some random man you met at the awards, they would still be." Jimin said, voice cold and stern.

Y/N nodded. "Do me a favor and give them a warning for me, yeah? I'm about to be a whore again, so hopefully they can still look at me without vomiting by the time I come back."

"What-"

"And give them all a little kiss in the ass while you're at it too." Y/N closed the door behind herself and didn't look back.

Her friends were waiting for her downstairs, at the entrance door.

They weren't the best influence. Hell, they weren't even a good influence. But they talked to her, they looked at her, and most importantly, they didn't give a single fuck about her idol life.

"Dude, you gotta convince that stupid security guard to give us entrance rights. This is getting ridiculous." Daeun huffed loudly, nudging Y/N as they walked to her car.

The pub wasn't very far away.

Y/N spent her night just as she had promised Jimin. Drinking, dancing, and kissing strangers.

Most were too drunk to recognize her. The ones that weren't were, surprisingly, nice enough to just let her enjoy the night.

When she woke up, a massive headache had taken over her skull. She groaned, squinting her eyes closed when the sunlight slipped through the barely closed curtains and worsened her pain.

It took her a while, but she eventually realized that her phone was ringing. She groaned again, trying to turn around in the bed, when an unfamiliar weight around her waist kept her in place.

She froze, eyes finally opening to find a pretty stranger sleeping at her side.

"Shit."

Her touch was light as she picked up the woman's arm and set it aside. By the time she grabbed her phone, the call had ended, but it didn't take long for another one to ring through.

"Hello?" Y/N croaked out, voice raspy from the lack of water.

"Where the hell are you?"

Jimin's voice appeared through the other line, loud enough to make Y/N jump out of the bed. The last thing she wanted was to wake up the sleeping woman and go through the entire one-night-stand awkward conversation.

"That's... that's a very good question." Y/N's voice was low. She crouched to grab her jacket off the ground, holding her phone between her ear and shoulder as she got dressed.

"Y/N, don't play with me right now." Jimin had never been so angry at anybody. "We're all in the fucking venue—the managers are going crazy looking for you. Do you know how many times I've been yelled at already?! Where the fuck are you?"

"I-" Y/N looked around the room, trying to find any clue. Nothing. "Don't worry about it. I'll open Google Maps as soon as our call ends, it's no big deal."

"It is a big deal!" Jimin yelled as she started pacing back and forth.

The managers were yelling at her, her members were worried. Hell, even their seniors had noticed that Y/N was not around. Everyone was trying to find the whereabouts of the same person.

"You're in so much trouble, Y/N! What if this leaks? The fucking administration board has already set up a meeting to talk about this—do you have any idea of what you've just done?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. She was a grown woman. She had a right to go out and be normal for a little while. They were acting like she had killed som-

There was the door.

"What if someone caught you on camera, Y/N?! What if Dispatch was following you all along? You could destroy the entire group! How could you be so fucking selfish? How could you do this to me and the gi-"

Jimin was cut off by a loud scream on the other end of the call.

She stopped dead in her tracks, the anger from before immediately dissolving. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

The other line was quiet, which terrified Jimin even more. Her stomach twisted as she waited to hear something from the other end of the call.

Pretty soon, she heard another scream.

"Y/N!" Jimin yelled, her heart thumping in her chest. Someone was hurt, she knew it. Y/N was hurt. Y/N was hurt and instead of trying to find out where she was, she had been yelling at her until now.

"Y/N, I swear to God if you don't answer me right now!"

But Y/N couldn't answer—her phone wasn't even pressed to her ear anymore.

She was surrounded.

By two young women. They looked at her with wide eyes, fallen mouths covered with their hands.

"You're—you're Y/N! From Aespa!"

"Y/N from Aespa is in our flat—holy shit!!!"

It didn't take long for the woman Y/N had slept with to run out of her room—no doubt awakened by the screams. She paused to try and understand what was happening, but then her eyes landed on Y/N.

Y/N from Aespa.

Standing in her hallway with messy hair, an unbuttoned top, and heels in hand.

The woman jumped away. "Holy shit!"

Y/N gulped. She needed to get out of there. Right now.

"Can you give me an autograph?" one of them asked. Y/N stared at her.

"That depends..." Y/N looked around the group. "Does any of you have a car?"

Only an hour later, Y/N was stepping out of a Volvo, and the girls were driving away with their pockets a little heavier.

She was finally where she needed to be. The perfect place to continue getting yelled at.

And, indeed, she was.

She was escorted inside the venue by security guards that recognized her.

One of the group's managers was the first to find her.

He stormed through the hallways, looking for the same person that everyone in the building had been searching for. He had been to her dorm, to the dance practice room, and even to her favorite cafe. He searched so hard but found nothing.

That was until he turned a corner and spotted the face that had been driving him insane.

"Where the hell have you been?" the man yelled. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"

Y/N halted on her steps, knowing that she was in trouble.

The man was fuming, the blood rushing up to his head.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused this morning?! You're lucky the press didn't catch you out last night! If they had, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. You would be in Lee Soo Man's office giving him an explanation on your shitty behavior this morning."

The man ran his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily. "I've been up since seven in the morning trying to find you, do you have any idea of how worried everyone was?"

Y/N pursed her lips, eyes drawn to the ground. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" The man's eyes widened; he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I don't give a crap about your sorry. I'm your manager, you're supposed to answer to me. You can't pull things like this!"

He stopped and took a few breaths, his heart beating faster than he would like.

And then he opened his mouth and continued his yelling. He was soon joined by the two other Aespa managers, and if the entire situation wasn't a loud mess with one man, you could be sure it was with three.

Y/N didn't have much of a choice. She stood there and listened.

She didn't agree with everything they shouted at her, but she wasn't mental enough to speak up.

By the time she reached the stage, where her members were already waiting, the group was an hour behind on schedule, and no one would look her in the eye.

Y/N had to take her hat off to the girls.

They kept their act up.

Be it during practice, when they got home at the end of the day, or the following day—during SMTown.

She was used to being sort of shoved aside, but they had never outright ghosted her.

Their resolve didn't even budge when they were filming an SM Town vlog, so Y/N got a good three seconds of screen time during the video. It, ultimately, didn't matter. Y/N didn't even know why she noticed it.

SM Town began. SM Town ended. The crowd loved it.

Y/N spent more time with her seniors and other groups than with her own members. And by the time night fell and everyone gathered around to go celebrate the show, Y/N was stopped by her manager.

"You should change."

Y/N frowned, eyes falling on the outfit she had just changed into. It was comfortable for her to relax a little but pretty enough to go out and celebrate.

"Why? Is there something wrong with it?"

The man shook his head. "No; it's just not fit for running."

Y/N didn't understand. "Running?"

From the corner of her eye, she noticed a security guard approaching them.

"Running," the man answered. "The higher-ups have spoken." The way he talked made it seem like they were fucking gods. "They want a punishment for your decisions of yesterday. It's not the first time you've pulled a stunt like this, and they've had enough of you."

He looked sorry for a second, but then he turned to the security guard as he walked away. "Fifty laps around the venue. Don't let her stop for too long."

The guard nodded in confirmation, and Y/N felt her mouth fall. "You're kidding."

Her manager just continued walking, so Y/N went on. "I'm not gonna run 50 laps, are you crazy?!"

He shrugged. "You're not leaving this venue without the 50 laps. Lee Yeon here will make sure of it."

She turned to look at the guard and he crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes unforgiving.

And so there Y/N was. Running around the venue alone, cold air crashing against her red cheeks while she ran.

After the fifteenth lap, she could have sworn her lungs were about to collapse. Her muscles ached and begged to stop. But all she could do was keep putting one foot in front of the other.

One foot in front of the other.

One foot in front of the other.

Much like she did a week later as she walked up the stairs of SM Entertainment. She knocked but didn't really wait for permission to go inside the office.

She walked up to the director sitting at his desk and handed him the stack of papers she had arranged with her lawyer.

"I'm out. Sue me, do whatever you want—I'm leaving."

[melosliving]

hi! I was wondering if you could write a story about aaron and reader are arguing because reader is jealous about him having to kiss a girl in a movie he was doing and he had to prove to them that he loves them and only them. please and thank you

Let me cook !! I hope you’ll like ! (I felt free to add smut to it because why notttt)

aaron pierre x actress!reader

Warnings : +18 (MDNI), nasty smutty, established relationship, jealousy, cranky reader

It’s been a long day for both of you. The set was chaotic, the director demanding, and the long hours had made you cranky. But what truly sent your heart spiraling was the news you’d just heard.

Your man had to kiss another woman for a scene in his movie. You hadn’t meant to overhear the conversation, but as you stood in the doorway of his trailer, the words hit you like a ton of bricks. Your stomach twisted, your chest tightened. You knew it was part of his job, but that didn’t stop the jealousy that clawed at you, irrational but raw.

Now, sitting in his car, you can barely look at him. The tension between you two is palpable, and the silence is thick, uncomfortable.

Aaron looks over at you, his jaw clenched, but his eyes soft. “Baby, talk to me. I don’t like when you’re like this.”

You scoff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, staring out the window. “Like what?”

He takes a breath, turning fully towards you now. “You’re upset. I can tell. I don’t know why, but I can feel it.” You huff, shaking your head, but you can’t hide the hurt in your voice. “I just… I don’t get why you had to kiss her. I know it’s your job, but—”

His hands fly up in frustration, but not in anger. It’s more like he’s frustrated at himself for making you feel this way. “No, listen to me, okay? That kiss meant nothing. Nothing at all.”

“I know it was just acting,” you say, voice small. “But still… You kissed her. I don’t know if my weak ass can handle that."

He reaches over and gently places his hand on your knee, his touch warm and grounding. “Baby, I’ve been kissing you for years. There’s only one person who has my heart, and that’s you. No matter what’s in the script, no matter what I have to do on set, you’re the one I’m coming home to.”

You glance at him, searching his face, looking for any sign of insincerity. But all you see is love. His eyes are soft, pleading, and filled with everything you need to hear.

“And I’m sorry I made you feel this way,” he continues, his voice low. “You mean everything to me. I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t want anyone else.”

Tears start to sting your eyes as his words hit you. Slowly, you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I’m sorry, too papa,” you whisper, gently playing with his fingers. “I didn’t mean to be jealous like this. I just… I love you so much. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching you like I do.”

Aaron leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “And you never will. Because no matter what, it’s you and me. Always.”

Now, as the rest of the trip was quiet, the only audible sound being the radio, you thought things had calmed down between you. How wrong you were. You didn’t even the time to step out of your shoes that aaron took you to y’all’s bedroom.

"Aaron- what are you doing ?" You asked, following him as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.

The tension between y’all thickened, and even if the only source of light in the room was the sunset’s, you could still see aaron slightly tightening his jaw as he looked down at you.

It was like he was actually realizing just how deeply all of this was affecting you. He pulled you closer to his, brushing his lips against your ear. " I’m sorry you felt that way. I need to show you you’re the only one who can have me.”

He never actually felt like this, never been the object of one’s jealousy. But this was nice —apart from the part where it makes you upset– it made him feel even more connected to you.

That’s how he now had you wrapped in his body, almost in his skin. His dick was buried in you so deep, but his fingers were so delicate on your skin, his kisses so gentle. "Papa is so sorry for making you jealous baby, will you forgive him ?" He asks as he fucked himself into your sweet pussy. You felt so good around him, your hips grinding to try to meet his.

"haa– fuck !"

"C’mon tell me bub. You forgive me ?" He asks again, lips against your shoulder. You whine softly, trying to push back against him.

"Yeah baby, you’re forgiven- mh !" You whine. Aaron chuckles a bit before his hands grasp your hips to hold you steady. With one firm thrust, he is breaching your folds and sliding deep inside you. your head dropping to the pillow below you as you whimper through the burn. The stretch burns more then you anticipated, and you hear him groaning softly, which sends another wave of liquid heat rushing through you.

"God you feel so good baby, you take my cock so fucking well." He praises you, gently pulling out to slowly thrust back in. His eyes are locked on the place where you two connect, watching with hooded eyes as his cock disappears inside you.

"Oh my— why are you fucking me like this ?..feels so good.."

"I wish you could see this baby." He praises again through a soft moan, and you drink up every sound he makes. "I’m yours baby, take your dick."

You needed this so bad and you actually loved the fact that you were the only one who could give him this type of relief.

Yours yours yours yours yours. he was yours.

Your forehead presses against the bed, muffled and strangled cries escaping your lips every time aaron hits deep inside you. His cock stretches you perfectly, and always hits places deep inside you. Places you didn't know existed. Soon you feel your orgasm creeping up on you, almost making you feel lightheaded.

"Please make your pussy cum papa, im so close." You beg, muffling your moans with your palm as he drives his cock into you. You feel sweat covering your entire body and aaron holds your hips with a bruising force. You feel that coil winding tighter and tighter, and you release a high pitched whine when his hand actually snakes around your body to thumb your clit.

"Papa this dick feels so good, soo good baby. Always feels so good, fuck baby I love you," You're not sure what you're saying at this point, an incoherent mess of praises for the man above you. "Nah, this is your dick baby, say it."

"My dick—It’s mine, mine, mine." You repeat mindlessly, pleasure taking over you. "shit, I love you too baby." He answers.

Aaron loved when he could reduce you to incoherent words and disconnected statements because of him. slamming his cock inside you and rolling your clit before you're squeezing around him tightly, your mouth falls open in a silent scream. You cum in hot gushes around him and he can only offer a few more sloppy thrusts before he's cumming with a loud growl, coating your walls in his hot cum.

chest heaving from the exertion, aaron feels more relaxed than he has all day. There's a small smile on your face and your eyes are closed as your legs finally give out and you collapse against the sheets.

"Are you okay bub ?" You hear, and you can't help but smile when you hear that he's panting slightly. You hum with a smile on your face. "I’m sorry i got cranky over this, I love you."

"That’s okay mama. I understand you, but I want you to know I’m yours, only yours."

@ melosliving 2025

[luvst4rc0r3]

CAN YOU DO A JINX X READER FIC BUT READER IS PREGNANT AND LIKE SHE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO TELL JINX.

IF YOU DO IT TYYYYYY❤️❤️

“Two Pink Lines”

Jinx x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Mention of abortion?

WC:2311

NOTE: established relationship.

Your POV

You had been pacing the tiny space of your shared room for the last ten minutes, the little pregnancy test feeling like a bomb in your hands.

Your heart was pounding so hard it made your head hurt. You knew this wasn’t something you could just ignore—Jinx deserved to know. But saying it out loud? Actually forming the words? That felt impossible.

“Hey, Jinx, so, funny story—I’m pregnant.”

Nope. Too casual.

“Jinx, I have something to tell you… I’m having a baby.”

Too dramatic.

“Surprise! You knocked me up!”

Oh, hell no.

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. Every option sounded worse than the last. There was no way this wouldn’t shake her, no way this wouldn’t send her brain spinning in all directions. Jinx wasn’t bad with emotions—she just didn’t always know what to do with them. And this? This was big.

You had seen how uneasy she was lately, the way she watched you with that nervous, twitchy energy. She knew something was up, but instead of pressing, she’d let it fester, probably assuming the worst.

Jinx had been through too much, lost too many people, and she had this awful habit of thinking everything was her fault. And you had not been helping, avoiding her questions, brushing off her concerns, all because you didn’t know how to say it.

That had to stop.

You exhaled sharply.

You needed to tell her. But you also knew that telling her face-to-face might make it worse.

Jinx was all reaction—she acted before thinking, emotions bubbling over before she could grab hold of them. If you just told her, there was a chance she’d shut down, that panic would take over before she even had time to process.

But if you left the test somewhere she’d find it, without the pressure of you standing there waiting for a reaction… maybe that would help.

Your eyes landed on her workshop.

That’s it.

She was always working on something, always tinkering with gadgets and bombs. Her workbench was her safe space—the one place she could think things through. If you left the test there, she’d have time to work through the shock before she had to deal with you staring at her, waiting for an answer.

Decision made, you swallowed hard and forced yourself to move.

Jinx wasn’t in the workshop, which was perfect. You stepped inside, ignoring the usual chaos of scattered blueprints and half-finished projects, and placed the pregnancy test dead center on her workbench.

She wouldn’t miss it.

You took a shaky step back, staring at the little plastic stick like it might suddenly shout the news for you.

This was the best way. You had to believe that.

Taking a deep breath, you turned and walked out. You’d give her a couple of hours—enough time to let her mind run in circles, freak out, and hopefully settle before you came back.

You just had to hope she wouldn’t blow anything up in the process.

‧͙*˚⁺‧͙ㅤ ওㅤㅤֺㅤ ⠀⠀✧ ⠀ ㅤֺㅤ ওㅤ ㅤ*̩̩͙‧͙*˚⁺ ͙

Jinx’s POV

Jinx felt like her skin didn’t fit right.

Something was wrong.

You were gone again, and she had no idea where or why. You kept sneaking off, looking at her like she was some kind of fragile bomb that might explode if you said the wrong thing.

She hated it.

Hated not knowing.

Hated the pit of anxiety gnawing at her stomach.

She stomped into her workshop, muttering to herself, fingers twitching at her sides. Maybe she could work on something, blow off some steam, keep her hands busy before she—

Her eyes landed on her workbench.

Jinx froze.

There, right in the middle of the mess, was something that didn’t belong. A little box.

Her brows furrowed. She stepped closer, picking it up and flipping it over in her hands. The words on the front made her stomach drop.

Pregnancy Test.

Her breath hitched.

That wasn’t—

No way.

She ripped the box open, fingers fumbling as she pulled out the little plastic stick inside.

Two pink lines.

Her heart stopped.

She stared at it, willing the lines to disappear, to change, to be anything else.

Two lines meant—

It meant—

Jinx’s breath came fast and shallow, her grip tightening around the test. Her thoughts were spiraling too fast to grab onto.

You were pregnant.

With her baby.

Her lungs felt too tight. Her hands were shaking. The world tilted, her brain screaming at her to do something, but she didn’t even know what.

This was why you’d been acting weird. This was why you were avoiding her, why you looked so nervous every time she got too close.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Did you think she’d be mad? Did you think she wouldn’t want this?

Jinx stumbled back, almost knocking over a pile of scrap metal.

A baby. A tiny, fragile thing that would need her, to touch her, to need her warmth.

Her.

Jinx.

A girl who broke everything she touched.

She squeezed her eyes shut, sucking in a sharp breath. No, no, don’t go there, don’t—

Her brain wanted to run, to slip into that dark, gnawing place where she wasn’t enough, where she couldn’t be enough. But another thought cut through the panic—sharp, insistent.

You hadn’t left.

You didn’t run.

You left this for her to find, trusting that she’d handle it.

She blinked down at the test again.

Her fingers loosened.

The fear was still there, lurking under her skin, but something else was rising up too—something warm and unfamiliar.

You were having a baby.

Her baby.

Jinx let out a breathless, slightly manic laugh.

She had to find you. Now.

And you had a lot of explaining to do.

̩̩͙‧͙*˚⁺‧͙ㅤ ওㅤㅤֺㅤ ⠀⠀✧ ⠀ ㅤֺㅤ ওㅤ ㅤ*̩̩͙‧͙*˚⁺‧͙

You took your time getting home, dragging your feet through the dimly lit streets of Zaun. Every step felt heavier than the last, your stomach in knots.

You had done it. You had left the test on her desk. You had given her time.

Now you had to face whatever came next.

But the closer you got, the more the fear crept in.

What if she freaked out?

What if she shut down?

What if she left?

Jinx had a habit of running from things that hurt. And this? This had the potential to destroy her.

Your hands were ice-cold when you finally reached the door. You hesitated, heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat.

Then, slowly, you pushed it open.

Jinx was standing in the middle of the room.

Her shoulders were hunched, her hands curled into fists at her sides. The pregnancy test was still clutched in her fingers, white-knuckled like she had been holding onto it for hours.

The moment she saw you, she went still.

Completely still.

Your breath caught.

She wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t moving toward you.

She was just staring.

The weight of it crushed you.

She didn’t want this.

You could see it in the way she held herself, in the way her fingers trembled slightly around the test, in the way her mouth parted like she wanted to say something but couldn’t force the words out.

Your stomach turned, a sick, hollow feeling settling in your chest.

She didn’t want this.

And that meant—

You swallowed hard, your voice coming out quiet, fragile.

“I can get rid of it.”

The second the words left your mouth, Jinx broke.

“No!”

Her voice was so sharp, so panicked that it actually made you flinch.

Your breath hitched.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room was suffocating, thick with something raw and unbearable.

Jinx’s breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling too fast. She looked—

Terrified.

Not of you. Not of the baby.

Of losing you.

“You don’t—” her voice cracked, and she shook her head so violently her braids whipped around her shoulders. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think—”

You took a step back.

Jinx moved forward immediately, closing the distance like she was afraid you’d slip away if she didn’t grab hold of you now.

“You thought I didn’t want this?” she asked, voice strangled. “You thought I—?”

You had.

She saw it in your face.

Her expression twisted, something like hurt flashing behind her eyes, and it made your chest ache.

“Shit,” she breathed, voice cracking. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. “I don’t—I don’t know how to do this, okay? I don’t know how to be—” Her throat bobbed. “I don’t even know how to be a person most days. How the hell am I supposed to be a—?”

She cut herself off.

Didn’t say the word.

Couldn’t.

The weight of it was too much.

You looked down, eyes burning. “Then maybe—”

“No,” she snapped, voice hoarse. “Don’t. Just—don’t.”

Jinx ran a shaking hand over her face, dragging her fingers through her hair.

“I want this,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I want you. I want—”

Her gaze dropped to your stomach, and something in her expression cracked.

“I want them.”

It was barely a breath, barely a sound, but it knocked the air from your lungs.

She looked lost, like she didn’t know how to want this but did anyway.

Your throat tightened.

“You do?”

Jinx let out a soft, broken laugh, but it was filled with confusion and fear. “I do,” she whispered, her eyes glossy. “I just don’t know how. I don’t know how to be ready for this. But I want to try. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose us.”

Her voice wavered, and she reached out, her hand trembling as she placed it gently on your stomach. It felt tentative, like she wasn’t sure if she had the right to touch you, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to have a future with you and the baby.

But her fingers lingered there, almost as though she were trying to feel something real, something to ground herself. Her breathing was shallow, her body stiff, like she was holding herself together by sheer will.

You didn’t know what to say.

You could see it in her eyes—the fear, the doubt, the overwhelming weight of everything crashing down at once. She loved you, she wanted you, she wanted the baby, but she was terrified. And the last thing she wanted was to ruin everything. She couldn’t bear to mess this up.

But all you could think about was the space between you, the way she was afraid to touch you too hard, like she might break something precious.

“I don’t want to do this alone,” Jinx muttered, her voice cracking as she looked up at you, her face twisted with desperation. “Please, don’t make me do this alone. I… I don’t know how to be a mom. I don’t even know how to fix myself half the time, let alone another person. But I swear to you, I’ll try. I’ll try, okay?”

Her words hung in the air, raw and painful, and you could feel your heart breaking for her. You reached out, pulling her close, wrapping your arms around her. She tensed at first, but then she melted into you, pressing her forehead against your shoulder, her body trembling.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not leaving this. We’ll figure it out. Together. I promise.”

Jinx clung to you tightly, as if she feared you would disappear if she let go for even a second. Her hands dug into your back, her nails pressing into your skin as though she were holding onto the last thread of stability in her life.

But even as she held onto you, you could feel her shaking. Her whole body was trembling with the weight of everything she was carrying—the fear, the guilt, the uncertainty. She was scared, and you could feel it in the way she breathed, in the way her fingers tightened around you, as if she thought she might lose her grip.

“You don’t have to do it all alone,” you whispered, your voice soothing, trying to reassure both her and yourself. “We don’t have to have it all figured out right now. We’ll take it one day at a time, okay? No pressure. We can be scared together.”

Jinx pulled back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes. Her face was streaked with tears, her cheeks flushed, and her gaze was still full of uncertainty. But there was something else there, too. Something softer.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’m terrified. But I want this. I want you.”

Her confession hit you like a wave, crashing through the walls you’d built in your own heart. You couldn’t stop the tears that welled in your eyes, couldn’t stop the sob that escaped your throat. You didn’t want to be scared anymore, either. You didn’t want to doubt everything you had with her, everything that was coming next.

You kissed her then, gently, softly. It wasn’t a kiss of passion or desperation, but one of quiet understanding. Of shared fear, shared hope.

When you pulled away, you both stayed close, your foreheads resting against each other, breathing in unison.

“I’m not leaving,” you repeated, almost to yourself, as much as to her.

Jinx nodded, her breath shaky, but she didn’t pull away. “Promise?”

You smiled faintly through your tears, nodding in return. “I promise.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the silence between you stretch, the weight of everything pressing down on both of you. But there was a new understanding there now. An understanding that no matter how broken you both felt, no matter how terrifying the future seemed, you wouldn’t face it alone.

You had each other.

And that, for now, was enough.

YALL I LOVE THIS REQUEST!!

I want food

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ “DON’T YOU WANT A FAMILY WITH ME?”

୨ৎ pairing: husband!junho x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: angst. major angst that’s slightly emotional.

୨ৎ summary: 5 months into marriage you thought it was time to bring up kids and how big of a family you both wanted but.. things didn’t seem to work out when you brought it up to him and your world slowly started to crumble.

୨ৎ from myeong: hello!! here we are! my first ever angst fic and I hope you can enjoy it!! I feel as if I’m the best at this (since I’ve practiced writing angst so much in my notes app lol) let’s see how it turns out! x

staring at the ticking clock for what had seemed like hours now eyes burning from how long you went without blinking, a sigh left your glossed over lips holding onto the small pair of shoes you came across after leaving work one night. passing by a cute baby shop that held just about everything from clothing items to toys and strollers, your body filled up with this excitement that couldn’t be explained. it had finally been time to talk about a family with junho and the nerves only worsened as each minute went by. of course he wasn’t home yet junho was late almost every night. work was slowly getting to him turning him into a man that you weren’t too familiar with which only hurt more. he’d come home and rant about needing to find something that he just wouldn’t tell you and you never asked him what it was. were you scared to ask him?

“junho..” his name slipped from your lips the second the door opened and you stood from your seat on the couch. his eyes that you adored so much widened seeing the small pair of shoes that you held onto getting all the wrong ideas. awkwardly laughing and shaking your head, “oh.. these? no not at all. I picked them up at the baby shop nearby after work and.. well, just thought they were the cutest little things I’ve ever seen. I thought that maybe one day our little one could wear them.. what do you think?” all the fears that flooded your mind came back that moment seeing the look on his face it almost made you sick to your stomach. “my love, you already know what my answers going to be, hm? work is just too much for me right now. I think we’ll have to wait just a bit longer.” the large and warm hands that made you feel the safest and most comfortable gently grabbed ahold of your own and pulled you closer to him but you didn’t budge. feet staying in place and eyes staring at the floor beneath you it was hard to form words after hearing such an excuse. forcing him would make you feel like the most piece of shit wife in the universe but the both of you weren’t getting any younger and it had always been a dream of yours to have a child early so you could slowly grow with the child and be close with them but junho was stopping you and it was only making things worse in the marriage. many would say to enjoy marriage and wait for kids but you knew that junho would be the most loving, caring, and supportive father in the world. did you sound selfish for wanting to see it so badly? “how long do we have to wait..?”

it was his turn to sigh especially since he pulled you towards him again and you stayed put in the same place you were in when he walked through the door. “just a few more months, yeah? maybe one more year. give me another year and I can finally give you what you want.” a year..? did this man really just say give him a year? slowly looking up from the floor to look at him, a tear rolled down your cheek. why weren’t you able to understand this? it wasn’t rocket science junho was so involved in his work and you had knew that from the beginning but what you weren’t expecting is it to get in the way of the marriage and the topic of wanting kids with him. “don’t you want a family with me?” what a dumb question to ask but it was still asked as a few more tears rolled down your wet and warm cheeks.

“what? of course I want a family with you. why would you ask such a thing? I married you for a reason didn’t I? I love you. I love you so much and you’re so precious to me that’s why I need you to wait just a bit longer.” junho watched the tears roll down your cheeks in pure agony. not being able to communicate with you about his job killed him every day in ways that he didn’t want. as he met up with gihun and spoke about plans he would find himself zoning out thinking about you and how happy he was now being married to you. how much he wanted a child with you and who would that child look more like? his thoughts were clear from the start that he wanted, needed, and adored you. having a family is at the top of his list and he just doesn’t understand why his life had to turn out this way. hiding so many secrets from his precious wife and not knowing if you were safe or not with him during these months of needing to find his brother and the island.

allowing him to pull you into his broad chest a few sobs left you while his arms wrapped around your waist keeping you close to him even when you your best to pull away from him. “let me go junho.” voice stern even if it was weak from the crying you’d done. junho shook his head his grip around you only tightening feeling like the worst husband in the world watching you suffer. “I can make this better. please trust me? we can have a baby soon, alright? I just need a month—maybe two. I hate seeing you like this. you know how important my work is sweetheart.” work. it never failed for him to bring up work even after seeing you cry and feel so worthless like this. using the last bit of strength you had left and pushing away from him reaching to pick up the small pair of shoes and walk past him into your shared bedroom. “if work is that important then you should’ve never married me junho and I mean it! all you do is talk about work and how much it stresses you out but you won’t quit! I’ve told you countless times before to quit and find something more family oriented but you won’t. you’re home late every single night. I hear the phone calls you pick up during the early hours of the morning when you’re supposed to be sleeping. junho I can’t take any more of this. I love you because you’re my husband but I absolutely despise your work.”

junho was left alone in front of the bedroom door after hearing everything you had to say about how you truly felt about him and his work. he moved towards the wall and slid down it letting his hands run through his styled hair messing it up and rubbing the gel off. he had to make things right somehow and someway with you while still trying to find his brother. how? how was he going to do such a thing because at the end of the day he was keeping the most secrets from you, his innocent and loving wife that he absolutely adored. it felt so wrong but not at all wrong at the same time which had been the weirdest feeling for him. you or his job and brother? what kind of question was that? there was no way he could decide so easily without sounding like a heartless prick but.. it was time for him to decide.

[sonicssweetheart]

wowow your blog is so pretty!! may i rq knux and sonic with a cuddly reader? (separate, and if you're okay with doing multiple characters!) how would physical affection look like between them and such,,,,,,

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — OMG YAYAYAY FIRST REQ!! 🩵 and thank you sooo much i rly tried to make my blog look pretty i rly appreciate that you’re a sweetheart :( <3 anyway i hope u like it ! ♡

sonic & knuckles x clingy reader ₊˚ෆˎˊ˗

ᝰ.ᐟ warnings ; none! just fluff <3

. ݁₊ ⊹ sonic .ᐟ

sonic absolutely loves when you’re all over him. it sort of boosts his ego, knowing that he’s irresistible, and of course he’s quick to reciprocate the affection. he could be just standing in the kitchen, and you would sneak up behind him, his name slipping angelically off of your love-rotted tongue and snake your arms around his waist, where he would plaster that sly smirk of his across his face and wistfully spin around to crash his lips against yours; taking your caring hand in his and interlocking your fingers. of course he knew this would make you flustered, he knows exactly how to get you going.

the little things mean the most to him. tapping/fondling your fingers while you both work on something independently, putting his hand on your lower back as he moves past you, fixing a strand of your hair in public where his thumb brushes your cheek, causing his heart to jolt. but if you were to tell him you didn’t feel like being touched for any reason, he would simply observe from afar and say you looked lovely. (leith ross… anyone…)

however, it isn’t rare for our sonic to get a little overwhelmed with constant affection. as much as he loves your touch and will use every excuse to just have his hands on you when you want it, there are times when he starts to bite his tongue and groan.

he is always on the go, whether he’s running or serving as the islands hero, so laying in bed for long periods of time can feel unnatural & uncomfy to him. he would never say anything to hurt you or shove you off of him, but a subtle nudge and squeamish look in his eyes hopes to give you a hint. if not, then he will try and act accordingly;

“why don’t we go out for a bit? i wanna take you… somewhere, i don’t know yet — let’s go!”

but don’t let that discourage you! he’s not sick of you or dislikes your clingy attitude, the boy just needs his space sometimes! at the end of the day, when the moon is high and you’re both drunk off of melatonin, he has you gently sprawled on your shared couch, pressing delicate kisses down your neck and his arm is curled beautifully around your waist — trying to pull you impossibly closer to him, as if you were trying to get away. his thumb rubs circles on the skin which is slightly exposed due to your shirt riding up, and he inhales the sweet scent of your short breaths and whispers of his name. your soft touches persuade him into his last lazy, gentle kisses on your swollen lips before burying his face into the crook of your neck, everything is innocent & in between, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces.

can we talk about him curling up on you and falling asleep and sleeping so soundly because he knows he’s at peace with you, and if you fall asleep too you wake up to him holding you instead because he wants to return the favour cause he loves you so much ☹️ my shayla…

➜ ┊knuckles ₊˚ෆ .ᐟ

talking about the strong, brooding, short tempered version of knuckles over dumb-as-a-nail version of knuckles, he definitely LOVES physical affection. he would never admit it in public, merely holding your hand, but as soon as you’re behind closed doors he’s a big sook. oftentimes he’s oblivious to your intentions, where you approach him and just burying your face into chest, clearly wanting attention, yet he stands there awkwardly trying to decipher what that means. but when he wants something, he makes it known.

whether it be him pulling you in with one hand by the waist and lifting you up then and there to kiss you softly, or holding you while you lay down on the couch, knuckles is the opposite of nervous. at the beginning of your relationship, he would awkwardly beckon you towards him to hint what he wanted, but that slowly faded as he grew bolder as his desire for you manipulated quickly. though, he still gets nervous from time to time — especially if you take initiative. he can’t help it — he’s so chronically obsessed with you, who can blame him?

on a side note, knuckles himself is probably equally as clingy as you since he correlates clinginess with protection, believing that if he’s always near you and touching you in some way that means you’re safe and feel loved — and that’s enough for him. if there’s ever a day you’re distant, he silently worries a little, but never express that. he will keep an eye on you throughout the day, making sure you’re feeling well and not anxious, sitting a little closer together on the couch so he can at least feel the heat of the pulse on your neck or the gentle scent of your shampoo. ever wondered what it’s like to have someone soulfully connected to you? well there you have it. all in all, physical reassurance is important to him. if he can feel you in some way, physically or mentally, he knows you’re safe, and can love you from both near & afar.

but besides that! he will let you curl up on his chest any hour of the day (his FAVOURITE thing to do when you relax, he believes you seem the calmest & safest) ,hold his hand while you scroll on your phone, play with his spines while he lays there peacefully, laying in bed blissfully while holding each others faces… you have it all with him. knuckles is devoted to you, don’t worry <3

okay but like. imagine coming home after a long day but you messaged him earlier, ‘ long day, need attention:(‘ and he greets you at the door with the softest look in his eyes before he pulls you flush against him, holding your waist with his larger hands and kissing you with such delicacy and pulling away ever so slightly to whisper how much he missed you, barely being able to finish his sentence before he desperately meets your lips again. brushing your hair out of your face gently, pulling your shirt down when it rides up cause he respects you..!!! anyway.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 6

Enjoy Chapter 6! Ch8 will be a look into what has been happening in Ghotam and Ch9 will probably follow the first episode of Invincible.

We're slowly approaching the main timeline age, so if ya'll want a specific character to make an appearance or would like to see a specific plot line this is your time to speak now or forever remain silent /j

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 6 >>next(TBC)

He is crazy- he can’t just- He-!

You couldn’t even know where to begin telling what happened. One moment you were relaxing, enjoying the sun, living the dream- and then this old, 6 feet and 2 inches of pure muscle, alien-man thing just up and kidnaps you. Omni-Man kidnapped you with a simple “Hello, kid. Let’s go home.” You were more shocked than angry, to be honest, the man was just spewing nonsense as he flew you across the states.

Now, Nolan wouldn’t call it kidnapping- why, he’d never! He was just- cleaning up the streets, helping a homeless kid, even though he knew where she lived- it was adopting without all the other steps!

He was meticulous in his watching, not stalking, but watching, observing. When Cecil first called him, bringing to his attention a mysterious flying person coming and going from NYC, he was ready for a villain, an alien preparing to overtake NYC, anything but a tween kid shakily flying, almost hitting buildings and nearly being taken down by other flying heroes.

He knew she was no threat; he told Cecil as much- but he kept coming back. Something kept making him come back, just to look, to make sure she didn’t hurt herself or others- he kept telling himself. He knew deep inside why he came back every day for a year, it was the same reason why he married Debbie, it was the same reason why he couldn’t bring himself to hate his son.

Sure, she was living well, but the food she ate, if she remembered to, wasn’t sustainable, she needed home-cooked food, she needed socializing and training, she needed- she needed a family and stability. Nolan took the initiative to pack her bags and everything in her little apartment and move her into his and Debbie’s house, in the room next to Mark’s. And then, he took her.

You didn’t put up much of a fight if one at all, but really what could you say or do when Omi-Man has deemed you his and his wife’s kid, the man spoke of her highly, his son too, but still- He kidnapped you, you wouldn’t just stay- “And Debbie is making this roast beef with baked potatoes-“…

Some would call you weak, others would say you can be easily bought, but this was the greatest roast beef you had tasted in a long while. “This is amazing food, Mrs. Grayson.” You could play along for a while. The woman just smiled and thanked you, insisting on you calling her Debbie. The offer of ice cream made you sure you could play along for a long while.

She wasn’t initially happy with Nolan coming with a random kid under his arm, but one look at your disheveled appearance and wide eyes made her rethink everything. A daughter wouldn’t hurt, two kids would make the house happier, and you reminded her of those scuffed up little kittens, she didn’t have it in her to let you go without a meal at least.

Over dinner, you answered every question they threw at you, from your name to Mark asking if you like comics, but when they asked your age, you just shrugged. “Around 13-14? Can’t quite remember, I haven’t celebrated my birthday ever, mom just told me how old I was and then-“ Your body went rigid.

You were telling too much, getting too comfortable- but, maybe this was your chance at a true family. Can’t back down now, you could always just leave if you really wanted. The two adults understood as soon as you tensed up, Debbie immediately acting as her hand soothingly rubbed at your shoulder and back while they let you decide whether to continue or change the subject. “She died when I was five.”

She smiled at you softly, apologizing for prying and giving their condolences, something not even Alfred did. All Nolan saw was an opportunity to grab you and never let go, to give you what the father that clearly wasn’t in the picture never gave.

Mark just grabbed your wrist, a sad frown on his face. “I can share my parent with you. I know I’d be sad if mom or dad were gone. We can be siblings!” His bright smile was contagious, making you smile just as bright before your hopeful eyes met Debbie’s. She was sold a while back, as soon as you called her pretty while calling Nolan a bum and asking how she had the misfortune of marrying a brute, making the man grumble as he sat you on the couch, your hopeful glance just set it in stone.

Despite having a room all to yourself, you wanted to push. They were different to the Waynes, that was clear. They were warmer, talked to you, and it all felt so much better. So, you wanted to test the water by asking Mark if he’d be willing to share his bedroom with you tonight, not wanting to be alone. Not when you had the opportunity to soak in any attention they give you.

The boy was excited to have a sleepover in his room, eager to show you all the comics and toys he had- and neither Debbie nor Nolan could say no. Not to two pairs of puppy eyes. The adults were sure this weakness to saying no wouldn’t last… Hopefully.

Spending the night with Mark was amazing, it was everything you thought Dick and the other would give you. He showed you all his comics, letting you read all of them, and as the night settled and the stars were high in the sky you taught him about them. In the end, you both fell asleep in the pillow fort you made, comic books lying open around you. Your plans of escape quickly went out the window, this family thing with them felt like it was worth trying. You liked NYC, but maybe Chicago is where you belonged. And if the adults heard you two giggle and fuss around all night, they didn’t say anything.

By next week you were a Grayson, thanks to Cecil’s string-pulling. Looks like Nolan knew exactly what to say to make the man agree.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple

my greatest fear is misspelling a name and tagging someone who has never seen this 🫠

[coichii]

winter ✭

—(🎧)—> when han realizes something’s wrong with you before you realize it yourself

pairing - newbf!han x fem!reader

genre - comfort, cheers to me failing a test !! ☻

word count - 0.8k

warnings - implied seasonal depression & post hiatus writing

Maybe it’s the winter air, maybe it’s the warmth of the beach being replaced with snow fall of small ice crystals in the sky. You don’t know, but it’s making you feel off.

It’s a feeling quite indescribable, but if there were a you could equate to it, it would be numbness. The source? No idea.

It always comes and goes during the cold, a shiver cold air radiating through your body as the feeling of winter does.

It’s hard to stick to a routine during the winter. Getting up at 7:00am, taking walks, exercising, drinking water? You can pretty much say those are all in the garbage.

The only sense of consistency left in your life is Han, and even that is a fairly recent addition. Knowing him isn’t, but kissing him and cuddling him? Yeah, that’s different.

It hurts so say the feeling doesn’t go away with him. It definitely gets lighter and fades away, but it’s still there lingering.

It could be school too, and you’ve already noticed the A’s slowly fading into B’s, into C’s, and slowly but surely, D’s.

To say it’s taking a toll on you would be an understatement.

< —— >

Fuck. No no no.

31% is what the computer screen infront of you reads. A final score for a critical quiz in your major class.

A buzzing starts in your head, one that rings your ears like a gong had just been hit next to them. One that is so heavy that it begins to blur your vision alongside the fresh hot tears in your eyes.

As if it couldn’t get worse, a faint knock is soon heard on the door of your college dorm room. You begrudgingly get up, groaning as you quickly shut your laptop and wipe the moisture from your eyes.

God I swear. I can’t deal with my roommates right n-

“Y/n? I’ve been wondering why you weren’t answering my text. It’s been days.”

Definitely not who you were expecting to be on the other side of the door.

“O-oh hi. Come in.” You usher, pointing him and softly closing the door behind him.

“I didn’t know it’s been that long, I’m sorry, Hannie.” You say half heartedly. You did genuinely feel bad, but you can’t muster up the energy.

You move to peck a small kiss on his lips, but he places his hands on your cheeks to stop you. He places his forehead on yours, eyes staring into yours as if he’s trying to read what your lips won’t give up.

“Is everything ok?”

You can feel a sting make its way through your body, but you ignore it. You have to ignore it.

“Yeah, I am. I promise I’ve just been b-“

“Baby, don’t lie to me. I’ve known you for long enough to know when you are. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been building up for so long, or it’s the look on his face or the tone of his voice. Whatever it is, it’s coming out.

“I-I really don’t know. I’m sorry Han, I don’t even know what I’m feeling.” You choke, a feeling of helplessness escaping its way from your heart.

“It’s like everything that I’ve been working for is falling apart in front of me, and it’s scary.” By now, he’s already wrapped his strong arms around your body, enveloping you in a comforting scent of lavender and love.

“I know. I know it’s scary. But you want to know something?” He proposes, and you sniffle and look at him, eyes filled to the brim with sincerity.

“You’re doing so well. You’re so smart, so strong, so independent. It’s okay to take breaks, it’s ok to struggle. Especially, it’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to have moments where you feel like every thing is falling apart, but it’s important that you know it’s not.”

Have you ever felt a feeling like an immense weight being lifted off your shoulders? A feeling like a deep breath even though there’s no oxygen? If not, that’s surely what you’re feeling now.

“I love you. I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you.” You sniffle, scrubbing dripping tears off with your fist.

“Don’t say sorry. I forgive you. Forgive me for not coming sooner.” He says, rubbing the silk of your hair in a comforting manner.

“You have nothing to be forgiven about.” You mumble, clutching a fist onto his shirt where you hold yourself, still in the same area from where he had come in.

“Now you know how I feel when you keep saying sorry.” He teases, a small chuckle coming out as well. “Cmon, let’s get you something to eat and I’ll help you with anything you need.”

“Ok” you nod, following him as he opens and walks out the door of your room.

That’s what it will be. Everything will be okay when you have him.

[revelboo]

Revel, this is very important (Atleast to us-). Me and my friend have both been reading Everything is Alright and we both agree on something, we were hoping that you could make Starscream a Girl dad, and make the first sparkling a girl. Only if you want to though and don't have any plans, we'd be alright if you don't do this too. We both really love and enjoy your writing, and check everyday for new updates from you. <3 Also, considering this is a request, If you don't mind and it isn't too pressuring, could we please have updates on the Brainstorm and Chromedome/Rewind fics?

Sure! I didn’t have a plan yet for Star’s kid so that works. I’ll try to update Chromedome/Rewind, Tailgate/Cyclonus, Sunder, Brainstorm, and Metroplex if I can today

Everything Is Alright Pt 123

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “If I was in charge, we’d have conquered this miserable mudball already and crushed the Autobots,” Starscream says, lip curling and you freeze. “The Constructicons already have a refinery going, mining is in full swing. But we’d be much further ahead if you hadn’t let those disgusting Insecticons just scurry away. I’ve said that those little savages need to outfitted with mode locks and tracking implants they can’t just remove themselves.” You’ve heard Star’s side of the war. That they were fighting for freedom and to overthrow a corrupt senate, but this is the first time he’s mentioned conquering your world and it leaves you cold inside. Because was that his intention all along? Whispering to you at night whole knowing he was going to destroy everything and not even caring?

• “What do you mean about conquering Earth?” You ask and Soundwave tenses as your emotions begin to build. Glares at Starscream to stop, but the Seeker is on a roll, secure in the knowledge that Megatron can’t hurt him too badly now. Not looking at you to realize you’re upset. ‘The only value in this world is the energon Shockwave seeded millennia ago,’ Starscream says. “The only value? This is my world. My home.” And you’re shrugging off Soundwave’s hand to face the Seeker, little hands balled into fists. Furious and he’s never seen you angry like this before. “What do you to do to worlds you’ve conquered?”

• Rant faltering at the edge in your voice, Starscream sees Megatron smirk and realizes he’s just made a mistake. Wings dropping, he turns back to you and forces a smile. “Nothing to worry yourself over, little one. Our home is Cybertron. Yours now, too.” And your eyes narrow, looking from him to the other two and back as your face reddens and your chin lifts. Why are you so upset? You’ll love Cybertron. You’ll be with him and your sparkling.

• “I asked what you do to the worlds you conquer,” you repeat. “What’s left after you’re done? Is anything left?” Hates that the upset edge in your voice bothers him and knows it’s the bond pulling him to you, urging him to soothe you, but Megatron has no intention of interfering. Enjoying watching the SIC struggling for words, wings flicking as he finally catches on that he’s screwed up. “I’m not going anywhere,” you say, tossing your hands up and striding away, though there’s nowhere you can really go trapped on the berth. Watches Soundwave drift after you, touching your arm and getting his hand slapped. And Starscream is glaring at him like this is all his fault.

• “Typically,” Megatron growls and you turn to glare at him, unsettled by his lazy smile. “Worlds our war spills onto don’t survive.” Breath catching, you wish he was mass displaced so you could slap him. Actually right now, you want to slap all three of them. There has to be a way to keep your idiots from razing your home to ash with their stupid war. They’re bigger and stronger than you, but they need you don’t they? You’d gotten the impression from Star that fully bonding takes ‘til death do us part to the most literal extent. Which means you’ve got leverage to get your way, even if it’s absolutely awful to even consider holding your life over their heads by threatening yourself just to try and get them to behave.. “Though, I might be convinced to spare this world. With the proper motivation.”

• And he can feel the shift in your emotions, the cold calculation. Doesn’t like it one bit, either. Scheming and manipulation isn’t your strength. Curling his arms around you and tugging you back into him when you try to shrug him off, Soundwave tries to pin down exactly what you’re thinking, but as always your mind is too chaotic for him. But he can’t help but be worried. He’d played kingmaker for Megatron, started playing the same game for you, positioning you so you’re safest, but if you’re also playing? It complicates things. Needs to fully bond you as soon as possible so he can better protect you, be able to get a better grasp on your thoughts. Except. There’s the problem of your lifespan. If it was only his life, he’d take it, claim you, but his cassettes need him. Depend on him. And so do you. For the first time he can remember, his path forward isn’t clear to him. What he wants and needs at odds with reason.

Previous

[suunani]

remembrance ( johnny suh )

▍ it’s been weeks since johnny last saw you, and he can’t wait to see you again.

content : 2.1k words, male reader, established relationship, lot of memories (written in italics), angst, hurt / comfort, soft & domestic moments, requested here!

johnny adjusted the bouquet of white tulips in his hands, his fingers curling slightly around the stems as he walked, his pace slow but steady.

the cold air nipped at his cheeks, but he barely noticed. he was focused on the flowers, their delicate petals soft beneath his touch. he wanted them to be perfect. it was the least he could do, even if it didn’t feel like enough.

the past month had been a blur — rehearsals, travel, late-night recordings, a schedule that seemed to have no end. johnny hated it. he hated how time slipped away from him, how the days seemed to vanish before he could catch his breath.

he hadn’t seen you in weeks. the guilt gnawed at him, gnawing at his insides like a constant reminder that he hadn’t been there for you the way he wanted to. the last time he had held you, kissed you, told you he loved you, it felt like a lifetime ago. too long.

johnny glanced at the tulips in his hands again. you had always loved white tulips — peace and remembrance, you’d said.

he didn’t know why he remembered that now, but the thought of it made him pause for a moment. he could almost hear your voice, your gentle laugh when you’d first told him, the way you’d talked about flowers like they had their own language.

you had always had a way with words.

“if you could have any superpower, what would it be?”

johnny chuckled, rolling over to face you on the couch. the two of you were curled up in a blanket, just passing the time in a comfortable silence.

you’d tilted your head, an eyebrow arched as you glanced at him. “come on, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

“of course i’ve thought about it,” he replied, laughing. “but if i’m being honest, i don’t know what i’d pick. maybe… invisibility? i could sneak up on you and surprise you when you least expect it.”

you smiled and shook your head, clearly not impressed. “that’s just sneaky.”

“exactly,” johnny grinned. “and you know how much i love surprising you.”

you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “i’m still not sure how i feel about being sneaked up on all the time.”

“well, too bad,” johnny teased, leaning closer. “now that i’ve got invisibility, you’re stuck with me.”

you didn’t resist, instead reaching over to tug him closer with a quiet laugh.

“what about you?” johnny asked after a beat, gently squeezing your hand. “what would you pick?”

you didn’t hesitate.

“i’d want to time travel,” you said, eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and something deeper. “imagine all the places i could go, the things i could see. i could relive moments i’ve missed, change little mistakes. i could even meet people from the past and see how they lived.”

johnny smiled softly at your enthusiasm. “what would you do with all that power?”

you paused for a moment, looking almost wistful.

“i don’t know. maybe i’d go back to my favorite days. or forward… to see the future.” your voice softened. “maybe i’d even go back to when you and i first met. i’d want to remember it all over again.”

johnny’s breath caught in his throat as he walked, the weight of your words settling on him. the memory of that conversation, of your excitement about the idea of time travel, was more vivid than he’d expected.

he couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing.

what if he could really go back? what if he could relive those early days, hold onto every moment and never let go? but time didn’t work that way.

time kept moving, never stopping for anyone. it moved without care, without mercy.

his hand tightened around the tulips.

the ache in his chest grew. he wished he could just freeze everything, stay in those moments where you laughed with him, where things were simple, where you were right next to him.

“babe, i swear to god, if you fall—”

“i won’t fall,” johnny called down, balancing precariously on a barstool as he attempted to hang the fairy lights you had insisted would make the apartment feel cozier.

from your spot on the floor, arms crossed, you gave him a deeply skeptical look. “i don’t trust you.”

johnny scoffed, reaching up to secure another hook on the wall. “wow. where’s the faith?”

“you lost it when you fell off the couch last week trying to change a lightbulb.”

“that was different.”

“how?”

“…it just was.”

you raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “huh. just finish hanging them up before i have to call 911.”

johnny smirked, eyes still on his task. “relax baby. i got this.”

and then, right on cue, the stool wobbled.

before he could react, gravity took over. his arms flailed, the fairy lights tangling in his hands as he went down with a loud thud.

silence. then—

“…baby, i think i saw my life flash before my eyes.”

you stood over him, biting your lip, trying (and failing) to suppress your laughter. johnny groaned dramatically, sprawled out on the floor with the lights draped over him like some kind of tangled christmas decoration.

“don’t laugh. this is a serious injury.”

“you landed on a pillow.”

“it hurts.”

you rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. instead, you sank down beside him, resting your head on his chest. his heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, his breathing slowing as the initial shock faded.

“you’re an idiot,” you murmured fondly.

johnny grinned, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer. “mhh, but you love me anyway.”

you sighed, your voice softer now. “yeah… i do.”

johnny’s throat tightened as he walked, the memory wrapping around him like a familiar embrace.

it had been one of those ordinary moments, one of those insignificant nights that didn’t feel all that important at the time. but now, it was everything.

it was funny, how memories worked.

the big milestones, the grand gestures. those faded first. but the little things? the teasing, the stolen glances, the way you fit so perfectly against him when you curled into his side. those were the ones that stayed.

the ones that haunted him.

he let out a shaky breath, forcing himself to keep moving.

it had started as a joke, just a silly moment.

you’d stolen one of johnny’s rings, slipping it onto your own finger with a dramatic flourish, holding out your hand like a queen expecting her crown.

“i think this suits me, don’t you?” you’d teased, tilting your head as you admired the way the bright metal caught the light.

johnny had rolled his eyes, laughter bubbling up from deep within him. “i think you just want to marry me.”

you smiled. “maybe i do.”

the playful banter had made him laugh then, but later, when the apartment had quieted and the lights had dimmed, he found himself lying awake beside you, staring at your hand.

the ring still sat on your finger, loose but not falling off, the sight of it stirring something deep in his chest.

he had thought about it before, in passing. marriage. forever. but something about that night made the idea feel real, tangible.

he could see it so clearly — standing in front of you, his heart pounding as he slipped a real ring onto your finger. he could hear your breath hitch, picture the way your eyes would widen before softening into that smile that always undid him.

it was terrifying.

it was exhilarating.

it was just another dream that would never come true.

a dream that had once felt so close, so real, like something he could reach out and grasp if only he tried hard enough.

but now, it was just a cruel mirage, something that taunted him in his sleep and left him gasping for air when he woke up alone.

johnny looked up, and his heart clenched.

he was here.

the cemetery stretched before him, vast and still, the kind of quiet that wasn’t peaceful but suffocating. the kind of silence that pressed down on his chest, making it harder to breathe with each step forward.

his legs felt like lead as he took those final, dreaded steps toward your grave. he didn’t need to look for it — his body already knew the way. muscle memory had betrayed him, guiding him here like a path he had walked a thousand times before.

he hated this.

he hated how familiar this walk had become, how routine it was now to bring you flowers instead of taking you out to dinner. hated how, instead of texting you to say i’m on my way, he was standing here, staring down at your name etched into cold, unfeeling stone.

it wasn’t fair. none of this was fair.

his fingers trembled slightly as he knelt down, carefully placing the white tulips at the base of the headstone. he smoothed his palm over the petals, as if trying to fix something, as if trying to make them perfect — because that was the least he could do for you now.

then, slowly, his hand reached for the stone. his fingertips traced over the carved letters of your name, and the moment they made contact, a fresh wave of grief crashed over him. his vision blurred, but he refused to close his eyes. if he did, he’d see you too clearly.

and right now, he wasn’t sure he could handle that.

“hello, my love,” he whispered, his voice barely more than breath. “i couldn’t come earlier. i’m truly sorry.”

the wind rustled the trees above him, a soft, almost gentle sound — the only response to his words.

a quiet, bitter laugh escaped him as he shook his head. “i brought you flowers again.”

a single tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it, landing on the cold stone below. he wiped at his face with the back of his hand, but it didn’t matter.

there would always be more tears.

“i know you’d tell me not to cry,” he murmured. his voice cracked, uneven. “that it’s okay. that you’d wait for me, no matter how long it took.”

his hands curled into fists on his lap. he let out a shaky breath, his chest tight, his throat burning.

“but it’s not fair,” he whispered. “it’s not okay. i was supposed to have more time with you.”

more mornings waking up next to you, sunlight spilling through the curtains as you sleepily reached for him. more lazy afternoons spent curled up on the couch, talking about nothing and everything all at once. more laughter, more kisses, more nights tangled up in each other under the covers.

more everything.

but instead, all he had were memories that felt more like ghosts, lingering in the corners of his mind, haunting him in ways he never thought possible.

he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. “i still don’t know how to do this without you.”

johnny sat there for a long time, his fingers resting against the stone, his heart heavy in his chest. the world kept moving around him, but he stayed still, unwilling to leave just yet.

eventually, he sighed, tilting his head back to look at the sky. the clouds had shifted, revealing a sliver of blue. it was a small thing, barely noticeable. but it was something.

maybe you were up there somewhere, watching him, waiting for him. maybe you were still with him, in ways he couldn’t understand.

he wanted to believe that.

he needed to believe that.

johnny pressed a soft kiss to his fingers before touching them to your name.

“i love you,” he whispered. “i’ll see you soon, okay?”

he stood slowly, his legs unsteady beneath him, his body reluctant to leave but his heart knowing he had to.

with one last glance, he turned and walked away.

it was a long walk back home, but it would be the only place he’d ever feel your presence again.

[aciddrattboyy]

Cαɳ Iƚ Bҽ Oɳҽ Nιɠԋƚ

┆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ - "megumi knew he needed to stay away from you. you came from two very different worlds. but god, he was having a real hard time staying away."

ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛꜱ: ★ Starring: Megumi F. x F! Reader ★ Run Time: 5.4k ★ Genre/Warnings: [Rated R: Adult Film/Drama/Rom] angst, smut, oral(m!receiving), penetrative sex, saying the L word during sex(all characters aged up!) ★ 01 . 02. [COMPLETED] ★ honestly this might be my best/fav fic ever, i wrote it high one night from 12am to 5am before my 7am shift at work. megumi is one of my favorite characters like ever and i always enjoy writing him

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megumi loved you. god he loved you so fucking much. he wanted to be with you, make you his. but there was one problem. you were a non sorcerer. you knew nothing of the jujutsu world. and megumi wasn’t selfish enough to bring you into it. as he walked into an abandoned building , the events of earlier today plagued his mind.

“hi megumi!” your face lit up as he walked into the diner you worked at, coming from behind the counter to give him a hug. he didn’t hug you back, swallowing the lump in his throat as he gently pushed you off of him by your shoulders. you looked at him with a small frown, not sure what was going on and why he looked so anxious.

“when do you get off,” megumi’s voice was low, hoping that maybe you wouldn’t be able to hear him and he could just blow it off and pretend he wasn’t about to do this. he watched as you pulled out your phone to check the time, looking up at him with a small smile.

“in half an hour… is everything okay?” megumi could see the concern on your face and thought he was about to cry. 

“uh i just need to talk to you about something,” you frowned when he didn’t directly answer the question. it made you feel uneasy and you wanted to question him more. but instead you just nodded.

“okay uh i guess you can just wait at one of the tables,” he nodded, the thin line of lips unwavering. you offered him one final smile before heading back off to work the register. you couldn’t help but glance over at him every once in a while from where he sat. he seemed fidgety, nervous, and distraught, all things you’ve never seen from him before. you furrowed your eyebrows, trying so hard to figure out what could be bothering him. 

time seemed to drag one for hours as you rang up customer after customer. but soon enough, your shift was ending and you were plastering on a fake smile as you said your goodbyes to your coworkers. 

“hey,” you spoke gently as you stood in front of megumi, tenderly placing your hand on his shoulder to get his attention. when he raised his head from his hands there was one word you’d use to describe his face. tired. 

he silently stood up, pushing in his chair and immediately shoving his hands in his pockets before you could even think about intertwining yours fingers with his. you followed behind him silently, a sense of dread pooling in your stomach. when you reached your car he finally turned to look at you. 

“y/n,” megumi spoke firmly, putting extra effort into making sure his voice didn’t waver. “i know we aren’t official or anything but i think its best if-”

“i understand,” you cut him off, your voice cracking slightly at the end. having had this conversation many times before, you didn’t really want to do it again. so instead you give him a polite smile. “i appreciate you telling me,” you nodded at him once before opening the door to your car. megumi was… dumbfounded to say the least. he didn’t expect things to be this easy and even though he should be grateful for it, he couldn’t help but feel a little hurt.

“wait-,” megumi spoke before he could think, a feeling of desperation clouding his mind. “i lo-,”

“don’t,” you cut him off once again, this time the hurt in your voice more prominent. you looked at him with tears pooling in your lashes. this situation feeling all too familiar to ones in the past made you snap. “dont fucking say shit you don’t mean,” your voice was filled with pain while megumi stood there and looked at you with shock. “goodbye megumi, thank you for taking the time to tell me.” with one final nod, you got in your car and drove off, leaving megumi alone in the dark parking lot to process what just happen.

“fuck,” he cursed to himself as he walked towards the door, not wanting to replay those moments while he’s supposed to be exorcizing. with one glance back, he watched as ijichi finished opening a barrier before getting back in his car. megumi had told him that he didn’t need to wait for him and while ijichi was on the fence about it, he reluctantly listened to megumi. 

with a deep breath he passed the threshold of the building and immediately could feel the cursed energy grow stronger than what it was outside. he looked around before summoning his demon dog, warily walking deeper into the building. 

from what he was told, there seemed to just be a couple low level curses, nothing he really needed to worry about. a loud crash rang through the building and megumi was quick to face in the direction of it. 

there was a curse crouching by a pillar, its energy was low and megumi wasted no time before ordering demon dog to exorcize it. after it was gone, megumi felt like something was off, the cursed energy still being very prominent. 

then it happened, another curse appeared with what felt like twice the amount of cursed energy. how did he not notice it before? he was quick to summon nue, having it strike the curse while he tried to move to a spot where he’d get the advantage. but the curse was quick, immediately tracking megumi’s movements.

it wasn’t particularly too strong, megumi knew he would be able to exorcize it with a little work. but what megumi wasn’t prepared for, was it’s abilities. right before he was about to attack, the curse made some sort of intelligible noise and suddenly he was frozen. 

memories of his life began to flash through his mind and for a second he thought maybe he was dying. faces of the important people of his life flashing before his eyes and then you. he saw you so vividly in his mind. you were smiling, giggling as you looked at him like he was the brightest star in the night sky. but then it flashed to your teary eyes, your pained voice echoing in his mind. 

all this was cut short when megumi was hit in his gut. blood spilled out of his mouth as he cried out in pain. vision blurry with tears he didn’t even know he was shedding, he began to attack the curse and with the help of nue and demon dog, he was able to exorcize. 

feeling the cursed energy disperse, megumi let his shoulders slump as he fell to the ground. wiping his eyes with the back of his hands he examined his palms. his hands were shaking, his whole body was shaking. tears were beginning to fall down his already wet cheeks again as his thoughts ran a marathon aside his head, 

he felt like he was going to be sick, he thought he was about to die. he thought his life was truly flashing behind his eyes and he saw you. you were sad. you were hurt. he thought he was going to die and the last thing he saw was your hurt face. his head was dizzy and he almost fell over as he stood up. 

megumi was now regretting telling ijichi to leave. with a sigh he surveyed his surroundings and realized it looked a little familiar. looking back at the building he just exited, he realized it was the very same building you warned him about. 

“look that building over there,” you pointed towards your window as you drove, glancing at megumi before turning back to the road. “it’s so creepy. whenever i pass by i feel a shiver go down my spine,”  you flashed a smile at megumi, missing his blush as you looked back at the road “but for some reason with you in the car im not scared,”

before megumi even realized it, he was at your front door. seeing the doormat with the silly cat that both of you laughed at being the only thing snapping him back to reality. he fished his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. it was late. you were probably asleep now. he should just call ijichi and head home.

he went to take a step back the way he came but before he could even move, memories of what saw in that abandoned building flooded his mind and within a matter of seconds he knocked on your door. megumi knocked only twice, firmly telling himself that if you didn’t answer he was going to leave you alone. much to both his relief and his dismay, you opened the door. 

“megumi?” by the tone of your voice he could tell that you were probably heading to bed soon. “oh my god- megumi-” the sudden change in your tone startled him as he looked at your now horrified expression. “what the fuck happened to you-,” your voice was full of alarm as you took in the sight of the man in front of you. he was leaning against the wall, superficial cuts all over his arms, a bigger cut on his shoulder, and already drying blood coming from what looked like his head. 

“i-,” he took a step forward, quickly tripping over his own legs that felt like they were submerged in concrete, and falling into your arms. you squeaked as his body fell onto you, just barely catching him and stumbling backwards into your apartment. you led him to your couch, panting lightly as you carried the brunt of his weight. 

“stay right there- do not move, let me go grab a first aid kit,” you spoke firmly, watching as megumi’s eyelids fluttered. his head lolled to the side as uneven breaths left his partially open mouth. your hands were shaking violently as you fumbled to grab the kit, opening it quickly to see what was in it. frowning, you looked at the scarce amounts of supplies.

hurry back into the living room you felt your heart stop for a second when you saw how still he was. quickly getting on the couch next to him, dropping the med kit on your lap, you cupped his face in your hands. 

“megumi- megumi please- should i call someone-”

“no,” his voice was hoarse. he sounded pained, as if he was using all his energy just to speak. “don’t… call anyone ‘m fine,” his head slumped against the back cushion of the couch, eyes still shut as his ragged breathing shook through him. 

“megumi you’re bleeding,” your hands clumsily grabbed a pad and a bottle of alcohol before gingerly grabbing his arm. megumi made no move to stop you, sighing at the feeling of your hands on him. the two of you sat in silence as you tended to his arm aside from the low hisses coming from megumi because of the alcohol and mumbled sorry’s from you. when you got to the cut on his shoulder you grabbed a small pair of scissors. “i’ll have to cut the sleeve off,” you spoke mostly to yourself, getting a slight nod from megumi. you worked quickly, cutting off the sleeve and cleaning it as best as your limited medical knowledge would allow you. “it doesn’t look that bad,” you said absentmindedly as you began to wrap his shoulder with gauze.

the corners of megumi’s lips twitch at the somewhat foreign treatment. usually in this scenario he would’ve gone to shoko, cuts like the one he has now seeming so small. and here you were, fussing over it and trying to console him. megumi found that he much preferred this over what he was used to.

shifting in your seat, you leaned forward, bringing your hand to megumi’s head to move his hair out of his face to see where the bleeding was coming from. to your relief it wasn’t coming from his head, but a very small gash on his head. being so focused on cleaning the cut, you didn’t realize megumi was now looking up at you until you reached down to grab a bandage. you smiled at him reassuringly, a small heat flooding your cheeks as you applied the bandage and smoothed out his hair. 

“all better,” you sighed, placing the kit on the coffee table before leaning back onto the couch facing megumi. you looked deep into his eyes, searching for answers you were probably never going to get. “you gonna tell me what happened,” you asked lightly, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

“i wish i could,” megumi’s voice was solemn, making you genuinely believe there was something keeping him from telling you. deciding to let it go, you switched topics. 

“you look ridiculous,” you motioned to the jagged ends of the sleeve to his shirt. megumi snorted, rolling his eyes. 

“you’re the one who cut it,” seeing megumi smile, no matter how small it was, made you feel a bit better. he didn’t seem to be in too much pain thankfully. 

“i’ll go get you a shirt to sleep in,” you got up from the couch, reaching down to grab the kit and put it away on your way to your room.

“sleep in?” he lifted his head to look at you, eyes widening slightly. 

“well do you have a way home,” megumi let his head rest against the cushions again. truthfully, he could call ijichi and if he didn’t answer he could call yuji, he knew for a fact that guy was still awake. but instead he found himself shaking his head. 

“then youre sleeping here,” you said with finality as you walked to your room. once you were out of sight of megumi in the confines of your room you found yourself shaking slightly. just to think you were about to head to bed and now the boy you were in love with was injured on your couch. you shook your hands as if trying to shake all of the nerves out of you before heading to your dresser. grabbing one of the many oversized shirts you own, you walked back out to the living. megumi was in the same position as when you left, his chest rising and falling in what looked like a much more normal tempo. “here, you can put this on,” you placed it on his lap, hands lingering for a split second on his thigh before you pulled away. 

“thank you y/n,” he looked up at you again, sitting up as he grabbed the shirt. 

“youre welcome megumi,” shooting him a smile, you stood up again, stretching your arms above your head. “you can sleep in my room,”

“what- no why-”

“you’re injured and my couch isn’t exactly the most comfortable,” you spoke as if this was common knowledge. as if you giving up your bed to the guy who basically broke up with you was the only reasonable option. 

“if it’s not comfortable why would you sleep here,” megumi looked at you incredulously, showing more emotion than he did when he was actively bleeding. 

“i’m used to it,” 

“i’m not going to sleep in your bed knowing you’re on the couch in your own home,” megumi’s voice was firm as he spoke, eyes locked on yours in a sort of silent battle. 

“well then do you want me to sleep with you?,” you were louder than you meant to be, eyes going wide in embarrassment at what you said. it grew silent as the two of you stared at each other. 

before you knew it, you were getting under your blankets, along with megumi. it was quiet and awkward as the two of you shifted under the covers. with your backs to each other, megumi’s mind was going wild. there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do. could he really be that selfish? could he really let himself love you and let himself be yours? did he really have it in him? surely he’d have to tell you about his line of work. would you think he was crazy? there was too much running through his mind and he began to feel tears welling in his eyes. 

“y/n,” his voice cracked as your name left his lips. 

“yea?” the two of you spoke with your backs still facing each other, both too scared of what would happen if you saw each other.

“i love you,” the words felt foreign as they slipped off his tongue. but it lifted a certain weight of his chest as they finally left him. the room became still, the only noise being your fan. he shifted under the blankets, getting slightly uncomfortable at the silence. 

“i love you too megumi,” your voice was weak, as if you too were scared to speak those words out. without giving yourself a moment to think, you rolled onto your other side, now facing megumi’s back. having heard and felt the movement, megumi followed suit. he felt his breath hitch as he took your face in. 

you were so beautiful, so kind, so loving, so sweet. you were everything megumi ever wanted and he couldnt help the weary smile that spread on his face. you returned his smile, lifting your hand to wipe a stray tear off his cheek. 

“why’re you crying,” you mumbled, now rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone. 

“ ‘cause i love you,”

“and that makes you cry?” you cocked an eyebrow at him, a small playful smile on your face. you had no idea what line you were now teetering on. had no idea what your world could possibly turn into if megumi let himself be selfish. this question from you was a rude reminder that you had no idea who he really was. 

“... yes,” his voice was sad as he kept his eyes on you. you noticed the sudden change in his tone and frowned slightly, deciding it was best to redirect where this was going. inching your face closer to his, you let your gaze flick down to his lips. megumi took in a slight breath as you moved, his eyes widening slightly. this wouldn’t be your first time kissing megumi, having gave him pecks on his cheeks and lips multiple time. but this would be the first time it truly felt real.

your eyes fluttered closed when you got close enough to feel his shallow breath fan against your lips. and within only a few moments your lips were on his. the kiss was incredibly gentle and ended way to fast for your liking when megumi pulled away. opening your eyes you see megumi staring at you with a sheepish smile on his face.

“why’re you staring at me,” you asked jokingly, now smiling with him.

“you’re just so pretty,” 

“you’re so sappy,” your teasing was lighthearted, and megumi knew that. but every joke thrown at him just reminded him that you truly don’t know how devastating this was for him. you noticed the change in his demeanor and frowned, still not having any clue what was going on with him. but before you could ask any questions, megumi pressed his lips against yours. this kiss felt different than the one you gave him. the difference in your urgency was incredibly difficult for megumi to deal with. so instead he opted for kissing you until he couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of your lips on his. 

megumis hands trembled as he slotted a hand in your hair, pulling you closer to him. you eagerly returned the passion he was putting into the kiss, pressing your body against his as you kept your hand cupping his jaw.

a small whimper left your mouth when you felt him bite down on your lower lip softly. megumi’s whole body seemed to be shaking as his hands smoothed over your side. your hand traveled to card in his hair, chest pressed firmly against his. 

megumi stilled when he felt himself growing hard, a tinge of guilt in his chest. he shouldn’t do this. he knew he shouldn’t go any farther- hell he shouldn’t have even gone this far. he shouldn’t have shown up at your door. he shouldn’t have even gotten himself involved with you in the first place-

“megumi,” you spoke softly as you could physically see him come back to the present. “you’re distracted again,” you looked over his face as you gave him the most reassuring smile you could, his lips now wet and slightly parted. 

“ ‘m sorry,” he mumbled before wrapping his arm around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck. you slid your leg between his, not trying to do inheritably sexual, just trying to get comfortable. but the moment your thigh pressed against his boner he hissed in your ear.  

“megumi-,”

“ i’m sorry, i’m sorry y/n,” he kept mumbling apologies into your neck and you tried to comfort him by playing with his hair. 

“you don’t have to apologize,” you whispered into your dark room, but this only made megumi feel worse. you had no idea what he was apologizing for. but he decided to take it, taking in a deep breath before lifting his head to look at you.

“thank you, i love you,” he smiled when he heard you giggle softly, pecking his lips.

“i love you too,” you were beaming up at him now and megumi had a mental war with himself to just let him enjoy the moment. “can you kiss me again,” your voice was so sweet, and you were looking at him with those pretty eyes- how could he resist. with a quick nod, his lips were on yours once more. 

things were escalating faster than megumi could keep up with and before he knew it, you were on top of him, kissing him messily while you grind down on him with your pajama bottoms long gone. small whines and moans from megumi were muffled by your lips, his hands tight on your waist. you broke the kiss to catch your breath, sitting up on megumis lap as you grabbed the hem of your shirt.

“is this okay?” you asked breathlessly, stopping your arms just before pulling your shirt up enough to show your chest. megumi’s eyes were wide as he nodded his head, feeling like he was in a daze watching you take your shirt off. seeing you in nothing but your underwear had megumi’s dick growing painfully hard in his pants and he couldn’t help his hips bucking up into you. you let out a soft sound of surprise at the pressure on your covered clit. with a smile you leaned back down, ghosting your lips over his. you watched his adams apple bobbed when you rolled your hips, a soft whine leaving both of you. megumi sat up, leaning back on his elbows as he pressed his lips into yours, both of your tongues intertwining while you continued grinding your hips against him. “do you want to do anything more” your voice was barely a whisper as you spoke against his lips. 

megumi stilled against you for just a second. this was a bad idea. a very bad idea. but god he wanted you. he wanted all of you. he wanted to be yours and he wanted to you to be his in every sense of the word. so, against his better judgment, he nodded his head, biting his lip as he watched your face light up. his eyes were glued to yours as you moved further down his body. you somehow managing to keep eye contact as you grabbed the hem of his pants had a shiver running down his spine. 

you slowly pulled his underwear and pants down in one go, giggling softly as megumi hurriedly helped by kicking them off. you smoothed your hands over his now exposed thighs, leaving wet kisses on the flesh. 

with his lip stuck between his teeth, megumi tried his hardest to not make any noise while he watched you inch your mouth closer and closer to where he wanted you to touch. and when he finally did place a kiss on his tip he thought he might cum just then. with your eyes on him you grabbed the base of his dick, squeezing slightly while placing kitten licks all around his slit that was now leaking precum. 

“ ah y/n- oh shit,” you moaned around his dick as you lowered your mouth on him, pushing your panties to the side to push two fingers into your wet hole. when you kept moaning around his cock and jerking your hips, megumi finally realized what else you were doing and his whole body felt hot. you began to bob your head at the same pace you were fucking yourself with your fingers and the site was megumi on the brink of an orgasm. 

“you like that ‘gumi?” you asked after pulling you mouth off his dick with a soft ‘pop’, smiling at him as you continued to jerk him off. the nickname had megumi whining loudly despite him biting his lip hard enough to almost draw blood. 

“w-wanna feel you,” he spoke before thinking again, the rational part of him telling him he shouldn’t do this and he should actually stop this all now and apologize and then go home and never talk to you again. but god the way you smiled at him with those lust filled eyes had him thinking with his dick.

“yea baby?” you asked excitedly, pulling your fingers out of you before situating yourself back on his lap and pressing your now wet fingers against his lips. you didn’t have to say anything, megumi already opening his mouth, tongue lapping at your fingers before you pressed them against his tongue. when he looked at you through those pretty lashes you felt yourself clenching around nothing. 

megumi watched you with hungry eyes as you lifted your hips, grabbing his dick and pulling your panties to the side, lining it with your hole. you elicited a long moan from the both of you as you sank down on him. your breath growing ragged as you bottomed out. pressing your palms into his chest, you let your head hang while you got used to the feeling of him inside of you. 

“ ‘m gonna start moving,” you whispered, lifting your head to look at megumi as he nodded his head. you smashed your lips against his, effectively muffling both of your moans as you lifted your hips and pushed back down. 

your room was soon filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. both of you moaning and whimpering into each others mouths as you continued to fuck yourself on his dick.

“shit megumi-,” you whined as you pulled your lips away to catch your breath. he whined softly, a shaky hand sliding into your hair and gripping onto it. 

“y/n- y/n i love you,” he panted against your mouth, hips now jerking up into you as he his body chased his orgasm. 

“i love you too ‘gumi- love you so much- im- ah fuck- im close,” 

“me too,” he whispered, eyebrows pinching together as the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each snap of your hips. you snaked a hand between your bodies, fingers messily rubbing your clit as you got closer and closer to cuming. you mewled, resting your head on his shoulder as megumi let out a string of moans above you. 

with one whimpered warning from you, you came undone on his cock. your spasming cunt around him was what finished him off, quickly lifting you off of him as his cum spurted all over his shirt. your eyes were wide at his display of strength as you came down from your high, panting softly.

with a dramatic sigh you flopped onto the bed next to a spent megumi. you watched as he smiled up at the ceiling. 

“oh megumi you ruined my favorite shirt,” you pouted as you looked at the now cum stained shirt. you were totally just joking but the expression on megumi’s face as he turned his face to look at you was priceless. 

“y/n im so sorry-,”

“i was just kidding!” your laugh was undeniably contagious, making megumi laugh along with you until both of you couldn’t breath and your chests started to hurt. “you probably shouldn’t sleep in that though,” you said while wriggling your eyebrows. megumi rolled his eyes before sitting up to take off the shirt. seeing all of his torso was definitely something you were going to commit to memory. every scar, blemish, and mark now stored in their own little file folder in your mind. 

you watched silently as megumi went to grab his pants putting them on as he watched you slip back under the covers.

“you’re gonna sleep like that?” megumi spoke with a smile on his face, getting right under the covers next to you. 

“mm yea ‘m too comfy now,” you sighed, slinging your leg over his hips and resting your head on his chest. megumi hummed softly one arm wrapped around your waist while the other resting on your arm. 

“you havin fun,” megumi asked as you traced the edge of the gauze on his shoulder with your fingertips. laughing quietly, you nodded against his chest, placing a kiss right before the gauze. the room fell silent after that, nothing but the noise of your fan and breathing to be heard.

“megumi,” you whispered, not entirely sure if he was even awake. 

“yea?”

“i know you’re not ready to tell me now,” you started,  your face heating up slightly. “but i need you to know that i will patiently wait for you to tell me your stories,” this is what brought megumi back to reality. just now realizing what he’s done, what he’s currently doing. he was internally freaking out but didn’t want to alarm you. 

“thank you y/n,” was all he said, effectively ending the conversation as you let out a content sigh. he held you in his arms until you fell asleep, only then letting unconsiousness take ahold of him. 

he woke up with a jolt, heart racing while he laid in an unfamiliar bed. he was about to sit up when he felt a weight on his chest- oh. it was you. he was in your room. after sleeping with you, having told you he loved you multiple times, having gave you this false sense of security. god he was horrible.

he sat up slowly, looking down at your sleeping frame now clinging onto his legs. you looked so peaceful like this. so beautiful- angelic even. but then there was a buzz from his phone. pulling it out of his pocket, his frown deepened when he saw the notification saying he got assigned to another mission. this time to defeat a special grade.

in this moment he knew he couldn’t do this to you. couldn’t bring you into a world you never asked to be in. and so with a dejected sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep himself from crying before he got up from the bed. 

he was quiet as he moved, making sure to not wake you up. mostly for his own sake, not wanting to see you in pain again. he was selfish that way, not wanting to be there to know he was the one who cause your suffering. 

he rounded to your side of the bed, leaning down and slipping a strand of hair out of your face to press a gentle kiss against your temple. he let his lips linger on your skin for longer than he probably should have. 

with one last look with teary eyes, he walked out, closing the door to your bedroom quietly.

when you woke up you instantly searched for the warmth of the boy you loved. the boy who had confessed his feelings for you multiple times. with your eyes still closed, you swiped your arm over the bed, frowning when you only felt your cold sheets. opening your eyes, you sat up looking towards the bathroom your frown only growing more prominent when you saw the door was open to the dark room. quickly shrugging on a shirt you walked out your room, hands shaking slightly as you called out his name. and to your utter dismay, you quickly realized the truth,

megumi was gone.

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3 ʟᴏʙʙʏ ﹕ꜰɪʟᴍᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

[steviewashere]

Little Town Bar Bathroom

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Minor vomiting in the beginning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Use, Steve is tipsy for a good majority of this fic Tags: No Upside Down AU, No Supernatural Elements, Modern Setting AU, Hurt/Comfort, Mostly Comfort, Fluff, Bartender Eddie Munson, Tipsy Steve Harrington, It Starts in a Bar Bathroom, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Has Self-Esteem Issues, Down on His Luck Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Countdown to New Years, First Kiss, Implied Getting Together, Happy Ending Also here on AO3, because this one is over 5k words 😬

🎆—————🎆 Working at a bar had its perks. There was a consistent stream of regulars that he constantly talked to. He could change up the specials menu whenever he wanted—adding his own flare to the mix, if he so pleased. Sometimes, he had reign over the music. And, more often than not, he was allowed a free drink by the end of his shift.

The downsides, however, were long and weary. Customers who didn’t know what they were ordering, who swore him to Satan’s asshole if he got something wrong, and tried to barge their way in with fake IDs (as if he wasn’t going to check them). Oftentimes, the bar was packed and too hot and made him sweat like nobody’s business—hell, his shower had a run for its money the other night from how pervasive his musk had been. The last major issue he had took place in the bathrooms.

Given that this is a bar he works at, the stalls often fill with every drunk imaginable. The quiet ones that need a moment to breathe, the guys who can’t keep their hands to themselves (who Eddie has to often throw out), a few who are completely sober and just there to piss, and then the oddball loner. But since they’re drunk—well, the bathroom is often the majority of their custodial staff’s paycheck. Eddie doesn’t handle all that vomit bullshit well, despite tending the very thing causing customers to do that.

It’s tonight, though—New Years Eve, forty minutes to midnight, forty minutes to 2023—that the very thing he hates leads him to the only thing he unconditionally loves. He’s cleaning up the spilled beer on his countertop when he gets the innate, incredible urge to pee. The bar is crowded, so he wrestles in another tender, and speeds away to the men’s restroom. Everything’s going according to plan, as much of a plan as there is when it comes to using a public bathroom, up until he hears it. Somebody in the stall adjacent to him, retching up their entire soul in the toilet bowl.

He winces, just finished drying his hands off, anxiety teeming like water about to boil over, and moves on autopilot to knock on the door. “Y’alright in there, man?” Looking at the bottom of the door, he spots only one pair of sneakers—some Nike Cortez that are roughed up and peeling, falling apart from how much they’ve been used—assuming is easy; the guy doesn’t have any buddies in the bathroom with him. “Noticing there’s nobody else but us in here right now,” Eddie comments. “Can I fetch somebody for you? Help you get home?”

The guy jerks with another sound, moaning miserably once he’s done. He flushes the toilet, but makes no other move. “Alone,” he musters, “she just left me here.”

Eddie bites his tongue. Failed New Years date. Oh, boy. He sighs quietly. “Do you, uh, have someone you can call? Or…uh, I could see if my manager’s free, she could order you a Lyft? They should be free tonight, considering everybody’s drinking.”

“I…I’ll be fine,” the stranger croaks, “been in here a while. I’m sobering. Barely had anything to drink, honest.”

“You think you’re done with the worst of it? Make your way outta the stall?”

“Why? So you can berate me for making a mess of your bathrooms?”

Jeez, this guy is defensive. “No, man. So that I could get you some water, a ride home, maybe some food?”

He groans in the stall, still hunched over the toilet. “Don’t wanna go back out there. Got a fucking headache, all the booze and shit will make it worse.”

Eddie rubs a tired hand over his forehead. “My shift’s over in literally five minutes. Would you…would you feel comfortable enough to go to the diner next door with me? I’ve got some Advil in my employee locker. And I could get you a cheeseburger.”

The guy goes completely quiet and still.

He goes to try and shimmy around with the door, maybe get it off its hinges or something, make sure he’s not choking or—

But then he sniffles softly. “That sounds really nice,” he says, “you’re really nice. What’s…what’s your name?”

“Eddie, and yours?”

“Steve,” he breathes. “Sorry I’m such a sack of crap. Wasting your time.”

“Mm, you’re making it easier for me to clock out, actually. Wasting my time would be somebody trying to return a drink that’s been remade correctly five times. That’s when somebody should be sorry.” He peers down at his watch, right on the money to clock out. “I’m gonna get myself out of the schedule and I’ll come back to get you, okay? We’ll just hang out at the diner. And…I’ve got Lyft on my phone, I’ll call you one when you’re feeling a bit better.”

“Okay,” Steve sighs. “I’ll be waiting.”

He makes a quick turn out of the bathroom, rushing back towards the break room before he can get caught and berated by the other bartender he left to attend to customers. It’s as easy as 1-2-3, punching out, putting away his apron, and grabbing for his things inside his locker. Thankfully, there’s still a bottle of Advil. Granted, there’s only enough for one dose and he typically needs to take one after his shift for his sore feet, but he’ll make do this one time. This one exception—Steve.

Once back in the restroom, the stall that Steve occupied is now empty. Though, standing at the sink and lazily washing his hands is probably the most gorgeous stranger Eddie’s ever seen. Blue jeans and a deep red sweater, hidden under a tattered, brown leather jacket. Lean and tall, broad shoulders, big hands; moles dotting every square inch of bare skin, pink lips, droopy hazel eyes, and a nose that could rival every statue masterpiece. Then, he makes direct eye contact with Eddie.

Caught out. Stilled. But then he chuckles awkwardly, trying to ease some sort of tension—a tension Eddie can’t see. “Managed to get away from the toilet,” he says, “room’s spinnin’ a little.”

Quickly, Eddie’s coming up beside him, placing his left hand on Steve’s back. “How much did you drink, man? Somebody should’ve cut you off.”

“Only a few shots and a beer,” Steve mutters. “Guess I’m more of a lightweight than I thought I was? I don’t know…don’t know…it’s been a while. Usually come here when I got someone to sit down with.” His head lolls back down towards his hands, scrubbing at them loosely under the water. There’s a tired, defeated, sad glint in his eyes. “Been striking out,” he mumbles, “people looking for…for situationships. I don’t even know…what does that mean? I wanted a date, not sex.”

Eddie sighs through his nose and eases his hand up and down the curve of Steve’s spine, petting him as if to soothe him. Which, he supposes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. It’s not the first time he’s met a person out of their luck, crying into their drink. But the look in Steve’s eyes physically hurts. It reopens a hot chasm inside of him, bubbling like magma.

“Just take a minute,” Eddie murmurs, “let the room settle.”

Steve nods, slow and tired. Heavy. “Sorry, Eddie. I swear I’m better than this.” There’s a flash of a smile at those words, one that falls away just as quick as it came. He sniffles again, wet and unmistakeable. “Gonna be ringing in the new year alone, though. And I’ve got a headache. But…hey, I met you. Highlight of my night.”

When he chances a new look of Steve’s face fully, Eddie notes the fresh tracks of tears staining ruddy red cheeks. He coos softly under his breath, pressing his hand more firmly into his back, and stretches out to grab a distant paper towel. The water is still streaming from the faucet, and so he dips the napkin’s edge into the warm pour. Gently, he shifts Steve to face him better and brings the damp corner to his cheeks, patting over the tracks, rejuvenating the color in Steve’s skin so that it all matches.

For a moment, he’s caught out by the still watering hazel eyes on him—damn gorgeous they are, even like this—but they blink at him and he feels it, the stretch of Steve’s small smile. He returns it, of-fucking-course he returns it.

“Let’s get you cheered up, baby,” Eddie says softly, “the sky’s too full of fireworks for you to be sad.”

His palm strokes over Steve’s back, a heavy sweep of warmth. There’s the lulling rise and fall of his lungs, each breath unwavering and strong now, and not as nasally as it had been only moments prior. A hand sets on Eddie’s left hip, secure where it rests, fingers tightening into his belt loops.

“You always hang out with random strangers from the bar?” Steve questions quietly. There’s a hint, a little bit of something coating those words. A tidbit of heartbreak, if he had to give a name to it.

This close, Eddie can smell the last dredges of alcohol on Steve’s breath. There’s also the scent of his cologne, even as stale as it’s gone when he’d been hunched over the toilet, but it lingers. Peppery and warm and decadent like a slice of apple pie from the diner next door. He’s already getting that Steve’s as sweet as one, just needs to be righted slightly so it stands tall on the center of the plate.

The next words out of his mouth are tender and quiet, “No,” Eddie whispers, “you’re the only one.”

Steve hums, soaking up just as pie crust does. His hand tightens again on Eddie’s side. And then he sways them, half-steps, knees knocking. The sink is still streaming and there’s red rimming Steve’s honey eyes. It’s all so private. It’s almost just theirs. 

“Saying I’m an exception?” Steve then murmurs. 

His words land like gentle pecks to Eddie’s lips. And they’re closer than before. And he’d let them get even closer, if there was room.

“Why, you wanna be?”

“Mhm,” Steve buzzes.

The restroom door opens, a foot sandwiched in the gap of their space and the entire world. Eddie doesn’t let go, even if he was supposed to. Steve does, wearily aware. He finds himself not disappointed, though, not even in the slightest.

“You wanna be an exception over burgers now? There’s apple pie, too.”

“Yeah, Eds”—and oh, how that makes his chest flutter something incredible, his heart a newborn bird eager to take flight—“I wanna be your exception.”

If he wasn’t intrigued and swooning before, he most definitely is now.

But as it is, he simply pats Steve on the back and leads him out towards the bar again. Zipping through crowds of girls and forcing his way between boys about to brawl. There’s beer spilling out onto his clothes, that he hopes isn’t getting on Steve’s—doesn’t want to tarnish the absolute darling beauty he’s managed to rescue from the swamps of a muggy bar bathroom. Though, maybe it’s unavoidable. Maybe it’s just what is meant to happen.

Because something about Steve, his hand gripped tight in Eddie’s, the bounce of his step, his glassy eyes and loose smile when Eddie looks over his shoulder—something about the Steve of it all feels as close to myth alive as he’s allowed to believe. And, well, if there are more than three religions and some people don’t believe in any of it at all, then he can hold onto whatever the hell he wants. If Steve at his heels, chest slamming into his back as the cold outside air finally whips them in the face, is destiny, then…Eddie finally believes in destiny.

When the bar’s doors slam behind them and they’re overcome with the noise of distant fireworks and cars rolling by on crowded asphalt, Eddie begins to let go. Though, Steve grips to his fingers a smidge tighter than before.

“Wow,” Steve breathes beside him.

Eddie looks to him. His profile. The sharp angle of his nose, droop of his eyes, and curve of his easy smile. He follows his gaze, up to the sky.

A spattering of stars, only broken by the even brighter bursts of twinkling fireworks. Pinks and yellows and whites travel stark across the sky, each ember firing like a shooting star going home. He places his right hand over his chest, the beating of his heart a tumultuous, daunting thing. And he sighs, panting a short breath—

Let me keep him, he wishes, after tonight, let me have him. Please?

Steve squeezes their hands together, fingers sprawling so they can intertwine. His palm is sweaty, he’s shaking slightly. He laughs, though, a sputtering, unbelievable sound. “Thank god I’m outta there,” he whispers. Eddie gazes at the stretch of his neck, how his Adam’s apple resettles after bobbing out each individual word. There’s moles dotting there, too. Constellations, even more wonderful than the stars above them.

At least, Eddie thinks so. Objectively, he’s correct. Won’t hear anybody else on the matter.

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip and turns his eyes back to the sky. “Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you can only take so much being cramped in there. Everything’s a little more…”

“Sobering?”

“Real,” he corrects. “Everything’s more real.”

Their fingers are pretzeled together still. And as if to punctuate Eddie’s point, Steve makes him feel the pressure of their hands. As if to say, “We’re a little more real out here, too.” He supposes they are. And he supposes the budding warmth in his sternum—where he’s believed his soul to be his whole life—is real, too.

Eddie blinks, watching white streaks dissipate through the sky. His stomach grumbles, though, and he’s reminded with a back-handed slap why they’re out here. There’s plenty of time to watch fireworks later, but he’s only got such staggering minutes with Steve. And he promised food.

Maybe it’s too honest and maybe it’s a lot stupid—considering Steve is still such a stranger, an enigma to his brain—but he’d promise a whole lot more if he was allowed.

For now, he starts to drag them towards the diner. Only met with minor resistance from Steve’s stance. He relents quickly, though. Following after Eddie like a lost, scruffy puppy. Through the next burst of fireworks, he hears Steve’s stomach give a low grumble, too.

The greasy air of the diner hits him in one strong gust. Salt and cheese and a sprinkling of cinnamon. Pink bubblegum, too, as a hostess greets them at the door and leads them to a booth in the back right corner of the restaurant. The vinyl must be sticky when Steve bounces onto it, grimacing as his fingertips stay stuck like paw-pads on ice. Eddie finds out a second later when he saddles in right across from Steve, collecting the menus from the edge of the table as the hostess struts away to her bored stool at the coffee counter.

He hands over one menu, Steve taking it from him gingerly. With a passing, soft, “Thanks.” His eyes fall to the plastic sheet in his hands, seemingly enthralled by everything there is to choose from.

Eddie already knows what he wants, choosing to gaze ahead.

There’s a tiny pout to Steve’s lips, subtle an gentle, but definitely present. He’s muttering under his breath, thumbs tracing down the margins of the menu, half-formed sentences like, “Cheeseburger…tomatoes…lettuce—hmph—bacon optional, sounds good.” Steve takes the sleeve of his jacket and brings it up under his nose, wiping hastily at its tip. His face isn’t puffy or red anymore, just tinged with exhaustion. Even like this, slumped over a menu and recovering ever so slowly from the cold that had seeped into their bones and the roller coaster of emotions that had worked through their combined blood, Steve’s beauty is magnetic. But his thinking face? His consideration? His marveling wonder outside?

Aside from his looks, the rest of him still draws Eddie in.

Or maybe Eddie’s easier than he thought he was.

Or…or…Eddie knows what he wants.

“Oh, shit,” Steve breathes, “they’ve got fucking onion rings.”

“They’re pretty good,” Eddie amends.

Steve slams his menu to the surface of the table, hands spread, eyes wide insistently. “Of course they’re fucking good! They’re onion rings!” he softly exclaims. “Ooo, get ‘em with barbecue sauce and a Dr. Pepper? That right there is the champion of all meals.”

“Is that what you want?”

The menu’s picked up again. “Mmm…it does sound good…nah,” Steve says, eyes intense on the choices, “I’m still lookin’.”

Eddie snorts indignantly and greets their waitress. Ordering a basket of onion rings for the table, a couple waters, and a Dr. Pepper for “The man of the hour” with a half-gesture at Steve still muttering under his breath. It’s endearing how long it takes for Steve to finally settle on something, even if their combined grumbling stomachs get louder and louder, roaring over the tinny television in the opposite corner to their booth.

“You better pick something soon, else Anderson Cooper’s gonna blackout before the ball drops,” he gently teases, head nodding to the television. Steve looks to it, snorts, and glances back down at the menu. “I could also just pick something for you, if you’re too indecisive?”

“Chicken tenders,” Steve decides, “with crispy fries and a side of ranch.”

“Are you twelve?”

“Hey,” he objects defensively. “I happen to be a man of taste, thank you very much. It just so happens that I’ve got a young soul ’s’all.”

Eddie hums, face betraying him as it splits with a shining smile. Jeez, this guy is endearing. He leans over the table a bit, resting his chin in his hand; Steve mirrors him, smirking. Soft and low, he asks, “You still got a headache, Stevie?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “It’ll probably stick with me tomorrow morning. Which sucks. I should’a left the bar as soon as my date stormed off. Would’a saved me a lot of trouble.”

But then you wouldn’t have met me, he wants to say, and that would suck worse.

“I’ve got Advil when the water comes. It’s the last dose in the bottle, but it should help. And also the Dr. Pepper. Caffeine might be good.”

“I don’t wanna take the last of your pills, man. You probably need it more than I do. Been working all day on your feet, I’m sure.”

He merely shrugs. “Yeah, well…I wanna help you. It’ll bring me some comfort if I can make you feel even a bit better, y’know?” Steve doesn’t say anything to that. Just looks at him like a confused, lost dog. Like he’s being offered scraps from a hand that doesn’t shake when he sniffs it. “But if it really bothers you,” Eddie continues, “then we can figure out a way for you to make it up to me.”

Steve cozies deeper into his hand, blinking long at Eddie. “That sounds good,” he breathes. “Say the word…”

“We’ll figure it out before you go home, okay? Not something for you to worry about now.” He fishes the bottle of Advil from his pants’ pocket and opens it swiftly, spilling the tablets into the well of his palm. Steve’s other hand is flopped over on the table, atop his menu, relaxed. Eddie places the pills in his hand and closes his fingers. No argument. “After you eat, I’ll order your Lyft. And then…maybe I can get your number?” He’s cautious about the conversation, though the words hit him at once. Failed date, New Years Eve, situationship. Eddie rushes to add,  “Just so that you can text me when you get home safely, that’s all. Don’t…I don’t wanna come off as, like, preying on you or something. Y’know, after the whole…Yeah. Just. Wanna make sure you get home safe.”

As soon as the breath rushes out of him, it’s like Steve breathes it in, responding with a syrupy, tired giggle fit. His hand fists the Advil tablets tighter. A flush colors his skin, travels down his neck as he loses himself to his laughter. The stretch of his smile and sprawl of his giggles make his nostrils flare. And Eddie doesn’t know how, after seeing the same on so many other guys, but the way Steve’s face simply moves with his joy stirs something in him. Awakes a part that had been hiding in a seemingly unending hibernation.

Shit.

Catching his breath and wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, Steve resettles. Breathes, “You were so worried!”

“I was!” Eddie exclaims. He makes a dramatic show of crossing his arms over his chest, pouting his lips. “I didn’t wanna overstep. It’d be un-gentlemanly of me.”

“Oh,” Steve sighs, breath finally caught. There’s a big, goofy smile on his face still. His eyes glassy with—what Eddie assumes to be—happy tears. “You’ve already treated me way better than ninety percent of the dates I’ve been on, man. Don’t worry about…about being careful when asking for my number.” He rests in his palm again, his posture growing tired, slumping into the table. “I was gonna give it to you anyway.”

“Ninety percent? Who the hell do I need to fight?”

“People who are…unimportant and too full of themselves? I don’t know, Eds, it doesn’t matter. I’ll probably just…I don’t know,” Steve murmurs. He shrugs half-heartedly again. “I’m gonna go home after this and go to bed, wake up with a raging headache, and probably wish that you were still sitting across from me. Feel like you’d know how to make it better.”

Eddie hums. “Well,”—he positions himself better, sitting up in his seat and folding his hands on the table—“tonight, I’m gonna make sure you ring in the New Year happier than you are right now. And then, when you get home, you’ll text me that you did. I’ll tell you to have a goodnight’s sleep. In the morning, when you wake up, I’ll text you again, ask if you want some coffee. Maybe, if you’re comfortable, I could bring it over to your place and we could have a simple breakfast?”

“You’d do that?”

“If you want me to.”

Steve goes silent, noticeably contemplative. His eyes adrift to the table. In the mean time, Eddie orders their food and passes over the drinks when they arrive. He nudges Steve to take his pills and points out something that Anderson Cooper’s doing on the television.

But he doesn’t bring up tomorrow morning, not right now at least.

Because maybe he’s overstepping this. He’s putting himself in a position Steve doesn’t want him in. Only thirty minutes ago, they were complete strangers in a bathroom bar, groaning and grumbling at each other for being so defensive and combative. Maybe Steve’s got a friend waiting for him back home? Waiting to let him back inside and take care of him in the secret way only true friends know how.

They aren’t anything more than mere acquaintances. No matter how many half-lidded flirty glances Steve passes his way. No matter how many times Eddie’s eyes wander to Steve’s mouth as he gobbles down his serving of onion rings, a wish ringing out in his head, words caught star-bound in his throat, admiring.

He’s allowed to admire.

Not allowed to have, though.

And maybe he won’t ever get there. This will be it. A late night dinner, wishing Happy New Years, jokes tossed across the table like clumsy frisbees taking flight, and an aching in his chest. Feelings blooming in his sternum so suddenly, so abrasively, they’re thorns staggered sharp into his lungs. 

He breathes, his chest seizes, and the whiff of Steve’s stale cologne burrows inside him. He blinks, his eyebrows shoot up his forehead, and Steve’s strong shining summer smile brands to the deep crevices of Eddie’s brain. He laughs, their giggles blend, and the process starts all over again.

Is this what sunflowers feel like? Soaking up the sun, all that they can, and then begin the brittle early death of wilting into oneself? They have to wait so long to be born again.

Eddie doesn’t want this to be a one time thing, dead in the middle of winter, dead before it could be alive.

Steve will have his number, though. He’ll have a weakened headache in the morning now that he’s had some caffeine and begun processing a couple Advil. From there, though, the future is possible, but unseen. He’s not sure if he’s even something Steve could be looking for.

Wishful thinking, he tells himself, hopeful wishing.

“Dude, try this!”

He blinks back to himself, presented with a chicken tender thrusted into his face. It’s dripping in ranch, so Steve’s hand is cupped underneath it, trying to save the table. Eddie gapes, looking to Steve’s face.

The chicken tender is pushed into his space harder. “These are the best tenders I’ve ever had in my fucking life, and I need you to support me on this. Try it.”

At Steve’s request, he gingerly takes a bite. For some odd reason, he finds himself holding their intent and intense eye contact, unwavering. It’s just a chicken tender, nothing to write home about. Not like it tastes any different than the ones he can pick up from the Dairy Queen by his apartment, but if Steve’s saying it’s the best one he’s had…

“That’s pretty fuckin’ bomb, Stevie,” he says. It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the complete truth. But it does earn him bright eyes and warm cheeks, a side by side dance in the booth across from him, and a pleased little grin. So…maybe these chicken tenders are the best, especially if they get a pretty boy like Steve to look at him like that.

“Told you,” Steve says around his next bite—half of a chicken tender and two folded onion rings. “You ever dip ‘em in gravy, though? That would blow away your socks, blow up your mind, and suck your dick.”

“You, uh, you really don’t fuck around when it comes to chicken tenders, do you?”

“I don’t fuck around with anything. I’m a set-in-stone kind of guy.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Eddie involuntarily choke on air, his eyes drifting away, flush high on his cheeks. He takes a few, quiet bites of his cheeseburger. It’s mediocre and spilling with grease, the bun is stale and the ketchup is weirdly cold, but he savors it. At least it isn’t another basket of tortilla chips and jarred salsa from the bar—he’d probably rip out his own stomach if he had to eat any more of those.

Steve tries to offer him another chicken tender, but Eddie pushes it back gently towards him. Tries not to coo over the soft, sad pout that the gesture earns him. “It’s your food,” he says, “I wanna make sure you eat it, sweetheart. You need it more than me.”

“But I wanna share it with you.”

“Stevie,” he murmurs, “I’ve already got my”—

He’s offered the chicken again. With a very forceful, “Take a bite. You worked for hours, I can tell from how tired you seem, and I want to share this with you.” And then—the bastard—adds a puppy-eyed pout to say, “Please? It would help me feel better.”

Eddie sighs dramatically, leaning forward and taking another bite. He raises his eyebrows, gazing at Steve as he rescinds his food offering. “Happy now?”

Steve nods, smiling as he does so. “Very.” He pops a fry in his mouth and crunches down on it, his grin as big as the Cheshire Cat’s. And then, his focus goes back on his basket of food, none the wiser to Eddie’s openly affectionate adoration.

He forces himself to look away, to stop getting caught up on the Steve of it all, this night. Probably one of the best New Years Eves he’s ever had. Eddie takes a deep breath, though, and looks to the television.

Forty seconds to midnight.

How’d their night drive by so damn fast?

“You gonna count down with me?” Eddie asks, interrupting the lull of silence that filled between them.

“Mm, among one other thing, yeah.”

“What other”—

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve quickly adds, dropping his food into his basket, “how much time do we have?”

“Fifteen seconds.”

He watches Steve wipe his fingers on a nearby napkin, counting aloud with “Fourteen.”

And as the numbers go down, Steve pushes himself closer over the table. Eddie can only match with him.

Ten.

This close, Steve no longer smells like his cologne. Just barbecue sauce and onion rings, the grease from chicken tenders, and a lighter thing that he can’t quite place. Something happy, whatever it is.

Eight.

“Anyone ever tell you that you have nice eyes, Stevie?”

“Don’t think anybody’s really taken notice.”

“Well…”—Eddie breathes gently—“you have really nice eyes.”

Five.

Steve slides his hand across the table, gripping for Eddie’s left. Their fingers tangle, pretzeled together. Warm, even there. His smile is warmer, though, and Eddie begins melting at the sight of it. He wonders if Steve is thinking the same thing.

Three.

“Two,” Eddie breathes.

He squeezes their hands. “One,” Steve sighs. And with it, he surges the last few inches over the table, pulling Eddie towards him, planting a delicate kiss on his lips. It doesn’t carry longer than a couple seconds, but it lingers. Lingers like the decadent, sweet scent of apple pie. They’ll have to get slices before parting.

The diner fills with cheers, whoops and hollers. There’s a burst of multi-colored light outside, painting the left side of Steve’s face with pinks and blues and yellows. Maybe it’s all so cliche. Maybe Eddie tripped and fell, went into some head trauma-induced coma where he can only dream of a picture perfect world waiting for him.

But Steve squeezes his hand again, fingernails pinching into his soft skin.

Eddie knows he’s awake.

The haziness has cleared from Steve’s eyes, replaced with romantic determination. And Eddie knows he must be mirroring something like that, too.

“Happy New Years, Steve.”

“Happy New Years, Eddie,” he murmurs—the breath ghosts over Eddie’s lips, close enough to kiss them—“best night I’ve had in a really long while, thank you.”

He wants to kiss him again, so he does. Gentle and quick, sweetly though, and drenching.

If a night could last forever, he’d pick this one right here.

“My pleasure,” he says and means it to the core of his soul.

“Can I take you up on that coffee tomorrow? I have donuts back home, we could make a morning of it.”

Eddie swallows, sure that Steve hears him. His palm sweats and the thing inside him, stirring and rolling the whole night, is finally, finally alert. “Of course, sweetheart”—it fills him with giddy pride the way that nickname brings a flush to Steve’s cheeks—“what time?”

“I’ll call you when I’m ready. I wanna hear your morning voice.”

“You flatter me.”

Steve raises their joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of Eddie’s. His lips are sticky, somehow, but sweet. The next time they kiss, he hopes Steve tastes like pie. “Good,” Steve whispers, “you deserve to be flattered now.”

And maybe it wasn’t the most romantic start to their relationship…

But Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way.

🎆—————🎆

[lukeynewtssimp]

When Nic is out and about with her bf all I see from Lukolas is pure hate and disdain for them both. It’s only now that the man brought out his gf that suddenly everyone is okay with it. Does that seem like equal treatment to you? Where was your defense before this?

You’re happy and proud of him for finally claiming her but where is the happiness for Nic? I’m still talking about Lukolas in general.

Do you not see the people saying he’s finally with someone well matched with him? And when people said the same hateful things after premiere night because of that stunt where was the support for Nic? You think his choices didn’t affect her, whether it was intentional or not?

This side of the fandom is extremely male-centered and you just don’t want to admit it. I am still very much hoping to be proved wrong in the future.

Wow okay there is a lot to unpack here.

Let me start by saying that my blog is very new. I only started posting like a month or so ago so excuse me for my lack of defence back when Nic apparently “needed” it.

Neither of them “need” anybody to defend them lol. We don’t get brownie points for proving we are their number one fan. They literally have no fucking clue who I am and don’t care to find out either. I just use my platform to express my love for the people I am a fan of and the things I am passionate about and to express my frustration at things and behaviours that annoy me. That’s the point of having a personal blog.

idk how to make it any clearer. Like it’s literally in my username, yea I am a fan of Nicola too but I’m a bigger fan of Luke. We all have our faves so I don’t get why you’re so angry that Luke is mine.

Yes I see the very small number of people making comments like that about Antonia looking good next to Luke or whatever. I choose to ignore it because I have seen a very small number of these comments and me talking about it would only amplify these pathetic people’s voices. I obviously do not agree with this take. It is rooted in fatphobia and those people can say whatever they want but they do not speak for Luke or Nic.

Nic is not some self conscious young girl waiting for a man to notice how beautiful she is. The fact that you think Luke’s decisions about who he’s dating affected her, then you’re the problem. You’re the one painting Nicola as this desperate girl crying for attention. Nic is a confident and very sexy woman and she fucking owns it and knows it. She literally ruled 2024 and has gained so much popularity last year as she deserves. And you know what? Luke knows it too and that man, unlike what you and other people think, is not and was never ashamed to show that he’s attracted to her and finds her beautiful and sexy and smart and talented. He’s not the most talkative when it comes to that stuff, that man literally blushes at everything. But his actions speak louder than his words. Just because he is dating a woman who doesn’t look like Nic does not mean he does not find Nic attractive and it also does not mean he rejected Nic by doing so.

As @jenhack beautifully put in the comments: Nic is not bothered! She is busy talking to other SAG nominees and being lauded by her peers. She does not need to, or have to be defined by any man she is connected with.

Crazy Lukolas do not only hate on Jake and Nic but they also hate on Luke and Antonia. Have you seen all the nasty stuff they have called this poor girl?

Sorry this has been very long but I just need everybody to stop projecting their hurt feelings and traumas on Nicola and Luke PLEASE!

PS: the “you” is not just aimed at you specifically anon, but everybody who agrees with that discourse of Luke hurting Nic by dating another woman and taking her to the premieres that I am tired of hearing about. And let’s not forget Nic took Jake to that premiere too…

[harunade]

i love your writings so much🙂‍↔️🫶now please hear me out -

imagine mafia jiwoong being whipped up for his step sister(😭😭)

(i beg you please write it if you liked the idea😭)

hmmmm mafia jiwoong is something very possible… he’s a very powerful man with many connections so it’s no wonder he has as high of a status.

definitely the type to do everything cold blooded. he only cares about his money, and his mom, as she is the only family he has left. jiwoong would do anything to protect her and to protect his secret from her. after all, you don’t go out in the street screaming that youre the capo of a mafia gang.

and… there’s you. jiwoong wasn’t expecting his mom to remarry anytime soon, but she found a lucky bastard to make her happy, so who was he to oppose his sweet mother’s happiness? the said man was your father.

the first time your older brother saw you, he didn’t pay you any mind. he had a lot to think about, he had people to talk to and orders to give, and you could see his frustration as his face twisted at the dinner table. “hey.. you feeling okay?” you asked him lowly as he was lost in thought. brushing you off, he internally appreciated how attentive you were.

some time had passed and jiwoong’s interest in you only grew. the more time you spent at his house, the more intriguing you seemed. you were always careful, clean and made sure not to be a nuisance. you always wore cute short pijamas that always worked jiwoong up whenever he saw them, but he couldn’t ever admit that. unfortunately for him, jiwoong had grown a soft spot for you. and you did too.

the rare interactions between the two of you became more and more frequent, until you two considered yourself friends, well… more than friends..

one night you two had one too many glasses of red wine and you somehow ended up on jiwoong’s lap, smearing your red lipstick all over your lips. even after the hangover was gone, you could still make out vividly how his soft lips felt on yours and how his hands guided your hips to grind agaisnt his clothed cock. it wasn’t usual for the older boy to mess around with girls, as he considered it dangerous for them to find out, but you were an exception. he was drunk with your kisses, and got under your skin.

nothing happened that night excluding the dry humping that made jiwoong come in his pants, but the dynamic between the two of you surely changed from then on. your little make out sessions continued, and evolved to something else,

jiwoong couldn’t bring himself to fuck you, he would feel guilty as he was scared something might happen to you, so he resorted to eating you out. day and night, you were falling apart on his tongue, as he lapped like an addict on your juices.

—

the day you found out the truth of who your step brother really was, you almost fainted. “do you feel alright?” he asked as your skin got pale and your eyes widened. you couldn’t believe what you heard. the tortuing people, the debts, the under the table jobs, everything… was so weird. strangely, you were mostly worried about him. you didn’t know why, bur your heart ached at the thought of him getting in any way hurt. “are YOU okay? is anyone after you or something? have you gotten yourself into something sketchy?” the guilt and worry was visible in your eyes, and jiwoong couldn’t help but melt at the sight of you. that’s how much aof an effect you had on the previously stone hearted boy.

“don’t worry, princess. nothing will happen to me or to you. i’ll keeo you safe here with me” he murmured before pulling you into a tight hug

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ smoke and mirrors .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Cater Diamond x gn! reader

𓏵 580 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 3rd Person POV, no pronouns used, angst, hurt/no comfort

feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Cater Diamond was so good at pretending.

That was his specialty, after all—smiling when he didn’t feel like it, cracking jokes when the mood was heavy, dodging anything that got too real. It was easy. Effortless.

Fake.

"Do you ever take anything seriously?"

Your voice wasn’t sharp this time. No anger, no frustration. Just exhaustion. And somehow, that made it worse.

Cater’s grin didn’t waver, but something in his chest tightened. Ah. So it’s come to this, huh?

"Babe, what’s with the third-degree?" He let out a lighthearted chuckle, tilting his head like this was all some silly misunderstanding. "You worried about me? That’s cute—"

"Cater."

That tone. That tone. The one that asked for something real. The one he had spent years perfecting the art of dodging.

He didn’t answer right away. Couldn’t.

Because if he let the silence stretch for too long, he might actually start to think.

And Cater Diamond did not think about things like this.

So he deflected. Like always.

"Geez, so serious! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were tryin’ to break up with me—"

"Would you even care if I did?"

His heart stopped.

For the first time in a long time, Cater felt something like fear. A quiet, creeping kind of panic that settled deep in his bones.

Of course he would care. He would care so much it’d eat him alive. But the thing about caring is that it makes you vulnerable. It makes you desperate, pathetic. And Cater had spent his whole life making sure he was neither.

He laughed. Because what else was he supposed to do?

"Ouch, babe, way to wound a guy—"

"Cater."

Your voice was so quiet now. Tired.

"Just tell me what you actually feel."

His fists curled at his sides. Don’t do this. Don’t ask for things he can’t give.

Because what he feels? What he actually, truly feels? It’s ugly. It’s raw. It’s loneliness buried under layers of filters and emojis, under forced laughter and staged photos.

What he feels is never enough.

And that’s why he keeps pretending.

"I mean, I feel like you’re bein’ super dramatic right now," he says, voice as breezy as ever. "What, did I forget an anniversary or somethin’?"

The flicker of pain in your expression was barely noticeable. But Cater noticed it. He always noticed it.

And then, you shut down.

Your face closed off, shoulders tensed, walls going up in the same way Cater had done a thousand times before.

"Forget it."

And just like that, the conversation was over.

He should fix this. He should grab your wrist and say wait. He should tell you that you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, that the thought of losing you makes his stomach churn, that he’s so, so scared to be known because what if you realize there’s nothing worth loving?

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he lets out a whistle, rocking back on his heels with a practiced, easygoing shrug. "Y’know, this convo is totally ruining the vibe."

He gestures vaguely around the empty hallway, as if to lighten the mood, as if to pull you back into the script where everything stays shallow and easy and safe. "We should just forget this, yeah? No hard feelings?"

You don’t stay to hear the rest.

You turn. You walk away.

And Cater just watches.

Smiling. Pretending. Because if he stops, even for a second, the weight of it all might just crush him.

[kathlare]

vicious

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: As Lando embarks on a road trip through the French countryside with Max and Pietra, an unexpected song disrupts his fragile sense of peace.

Wordcount: 1.4 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

August 16th 2022 - Somewhere around France

The sun was setting as they drove through the winding roads of the French countryside, the vibrant orange light casting long shadows across the landscape. Max was behind the wheel, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing from the speakers. Pietra, who sat in the passenger seat, had her hand resting on the radio dial, flipping through songs with a mix of enthusiasm and indecision. Lando leaned against the backseat, his eyes half-lidded, staring out of the window but not really seeing anything.

The car cruised smoothly along the road, the gentle hum of the engine almost lulling Lando into a sense of calm, though his mind was anything but. It had been a long road trip, a much-needed escape from the usual chaos of his life. Max and Pietra were chatting, lost in their own world, but Lando remained silent, his thoughts drifting between the road ahead and memories he didn’t want to revisit.

Pietra’s voice broke through the silence. —Ooh, I love this song!— she said, her excitement unmistakable as she cranked the volume up. Lando barely registered what was playing, but then he heard it—a familiar voice, smooth and intoxicating, cutting through the speakers like a knife. His stomach dropped.

It was Amelie.

The opening lines of Vicious rang out, and Lando stiffened in his seat. He immediately recognized her voice. His heart rate quickened, and a mix of annoyance and something else stirred inside him—something he couldn’t quite name. He didn’t need to hear the rest of the song to know what it was about. He had heard enough of Amelie’s music since the release of her album. But hearing it now, in this context, felt like a punch in the gut.

Pietra hummed along, clearly oblivious to the tension building in the backseat. —I love this song, it’s so catchy, right?— she said, her eyes sparkling as she glanced over at Max.

Max, who had been tapping his fingers on the wheel, caught the shift in Lando’s demeanor out of the corner of his eye. He noticed how Lando’s posture had changed, his jaw tight and his eyes now fixed on the floor of the car. Max had known Lando for too long not to recognize the signs.

Lando’s grip on the armrest tightened, his fingers digging into the leather. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much. The lyrics were brutal, raw, and they hit way too close to home. "Love me, then pretend you didn't." The words felt like they were aimed directly at him. "Crush my heart and wreck my image." It was clear. It was so clear. Amelie had written this song about him, about what had happened between them. About how he had left, how he had moved on so easily, how he had hurt her.

He clenched his fists, feeling the anger rise up in his chest. The memories came flooding back—everything that had happened between them, the mess of it all. The way she had pulled away, the way he had gotten frustrated, and how everything had just ended in a whirlwind of miscommunication and hurt.

Max’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, where he saw Lando’s eyes burning with something dark. He knew it wasn’t good. Lando had always been sensitive to anything related to Amelie, but hearing her music, hearing Vicious… it was a trigger.

Pietra, still lost in her own enjoyment, turned the volume up even higher, completely unaware of the storm brewing in the backseat. —I just think this song really captures that feeling of being let down, you know? It’s like, raw and real.— She smiled, turning to Max for affirmation.

Max's grip on the wheel tightened, his fingers flexing as he quickly glanced at Lando in the rearview mirror. He knew what was coming.

Lando’s body had gone rigid, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack. The muscles in his neck were tense, and his eyes, though fixed on the road ahead, were hollow—lost somewhere in the past. Max had seen this look before. It was the same one Lando had worn after Amelie had walked out of his life for good. The same one that had haunted him ever since.

The song was still playing, and Lando was barely holding it together. The lyrics, especially the ones that cut so close to the bone, were tearing through him like a slow-burning fire. "You're so vicious. Love me, then pretend you didn't." It was exactly what had happened, wasn’t it? She had let him in, she had let him love her, and then it all came crashing down.

Max let out a quiet breath and, sensing his best friend was on the verge of losing it, quickly reached over and turned the volume knob. The sudden silence in the car was deafening, but it was the only thing that could break the hold the song had on Lando.

Pietra frowned, glancing between Max and the backseat where Lando sat, his posture stiff, clearly uncomfortable. —Hey, I was really vibing to that. Why’d you turn it off?—

Max didn’t even look at her. His eyes were locked on Lando’s reflection in the rearview mirror, searching for any sign of a reaction. —Not in the mood. Just change the song, yeah?—

Pietra raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t push it further. She didn’t know the weight of the situation. She didn’t know the history that Max and Lando shared with Amelie. And for now, Max didn’t want her to.

She sighed and, with a flick of her wrist, began scrolling through the playlist again. Max’s focus remained on Lando, watching him out of the corner of his eye as the tension in the backseat lingered.

Lando sat back, rubbing his temples, trying to calm the storm in his mind. The memories of Amelie had always been there, lurking in the corners of his thoughts, but this song—he hadn’t been prepared for it. Hearing it, knowing it was about him, about their broken connection, made everything feel too raw. Too real.

He tried to focus on the passing landscape, on the blur of fields and trees outside the window, but it was impossible. His mind kept drifting back to that time. Back to when things were simpler. When it was just him and Amelie, playing video games, laughing, and talking about everything and nothing at all. Back to the nights they’d shared, to the first time they’d kissed.

And then it all went to shit. All of it.

Lando had never really understood what happened between them. It had felt so easy, so right, but the cracks had started showing. He’d pushed, she’d pulled away. She’d gotten busy with her career, and he’d… well, he’d gotten frustrated. And then there was the other girl. The one he had started talking to when Amelie couldn’t make time for him. Lusinha.

The memory of how everything ended made his stomach twist. It hadn’t just been a breakup. It had been a wreckage of everything they’d built. They hadn’t even been able to stay friends afterward. And now, hearing Amelie sing about how he had “wrecked her image,” it felt like a slap in the face. Like she had moved on—completely—while he was stuck, unable to shake the way she had made him feel.

Eventually, Pietra found another song, one that seemed more fitting for the mood of the car. She turned the volume up slightly, filling the space with light pop music, but it didn’t matter. Lando’s mind was still locked on Amelie, still haunted by that fucking song.

He couldn’t help it. He had tried to move on, he really had. He had done everything he could—focused on his career, stayed busy, even started dating someone else. But there was something about Amelie, something about the way she had slipped under his skin, that he just couldn’t shake.

Max could see it in his eyes. Lando wasn’t over her. Not by a long shot.

After a few minutes, Pietra turned to Max and asked, —So, how long are we going to keep driving before we stop for the night?—

Max glanced at the clock. —Couple more hours, I think. Should be at the Airbnb by midnight. We’ll get some sleep, and then we can go grab dinner tomorrow, yeah?—

Pietra nodded, stretching in her seat. —Sounds good to me. This trip is exactly what we needed.—

Lando didn’t respond. His eyes were on the horizon, but he wasn’t really seeing it. Instead, he was trapped in his own head, in the same place he had been for the last year—caught between the past and the present, between Amelie’s music and his unresolved feelings.

And as the car sped down the highway, Lando realized something that stung: He didn’t think he’d ever get over her.