#I didn’t even know she was coming until last night

[reidmania]

sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter three, full machine)

‘I'm a forest fire, you're the kerosene. I had a life here before you, but now it's burnin'. I know I know better and you're ignorin' me, still, if you asked me to run away, i'd go easily’

summary; you know you have a bad history with relationships, so to try not to get in your own head when you stop hearing from spencer.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationships, ghosting, commitment issues, self doubt & overthinking, preettyy angsty idk guys, no comfort yet but there is some fluff, and theres penelope & reader friendship!! reader lowkey shit talks spencer but he deserves it. reader is embarrassed & upset.

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules

2.1k words.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Spencer. You understood the demands of his job, that it kept him busy and a lot of the time you were fine with that — you enjoyed your space and your own personal time. You had never had an issue with him being gone on cases before but he would always text you or call you when he got the chance.

And never had he been on a case for two weeks. Not that you knew of anyways.

It was difficult not to jump to conclusions and ruin the idea of him you had. It was difficult not to shut down. It was difficult to not think ‘how could you be so stupid’ and you were trying really really hard to not repeat past mistakes and project past relationships onto this one.

But it wasn’t even a relationship.

It wasn’t like he had talked to you at all. The first two days after he left for his case he had sent you numerous texts, telling you how sorry he was for having to leave early, he called you on the first night and stayed on the phone until you had fallen asleep. Everything was normal. There was nothing that set off any warning bells in your head.

That made you feel even worse.

You hadn’t spammed him with texts, nor calls. You hadn’t messaged him since the last text you sent was left on delivered. You wouldn’t beg for him to reply to you, you wouldn’t beg for an explanation on what you might’ve done wrong. You’d rather live with the lack of closure than further damage to your pride.

But then there was a part of you that wondered if maybe something happened to him, a big part of you worried that something happened to him — actually. You tried to ignore the lingering dwindle of anxiety in your stomach as you carried on with your day to day life. You tried so hard to ignore it.

But two weeks was a long time to ignore an aching gut feeling, one that kept you up at night and never seemed to go away.

Could you have called Spencer? Yes. You could’ve. But did you want to risk the call being ignored and every lingering doubt in your mind being proven correct and then be embarrassed about it? God no.

You were a shame spiral when you instead texted Penelope, who had given you her number when she saw you and Spencer at the grocery store, the last time you had seen him. She begged you to reach out when she got back so you two could arrange to hang out.

You weren’t even sure if they were back. Normally you would know that by Spencer coming over to your house at some ridiculous time and delving into your arms like it was the only place he had ever been able to call home, but he didn’t come over this time.

It was a simple text, ‘Hey Penelope, how are you? I haven’t heard from Spencer in a while so i just wanted to make sure he was okay’

It was good enough. You didn’t want to explain how you just wanted to make sure he was alive so you didn’t feel guilty for hating him. You didn’t exactly want to hate somebody who was dead. Yet a twisted part of you hoped that something had happened to him, because at least then he wasn’t just ignoring you.

What you weren’t expecting was your phone to light up with an incoming call from the one and only Penelope Garcia. You answered it, partly scared that she was calling because texting you to tell you that Spencer was dead seemed insensitive.

“Hello?” You answered. The place in your bed warm from the weight of your body as you shuffled slightly. It wasn’t exactly late, but it was past evening times. You heard mumbling and shuffling on the other side of the phone, before a happy voice.

“Hello my sweet angel!” Penelope greeted you, even in your doubtful mood the warm greeting from the sweet women made a smile line your lips. “I got your message — I’m a little confused. He is fine, he just left work” She answered.

Okay. Not dead.

“Oh” It passed through your lips because now you were just overwhelming confused. “Uh- How long have you guys been back?” You asked, almost afraid of the answer you would receive. You were hoping she would tell you they had only just gotten back, and that the case had been so busy that nobody had time to text anybody.

“A little over a week.” She answered. That made your chest tighten, a lot. Almost painfully. You didn’t want to cry, you didn’t want to give the situation the satisfaction of your tears. You didn’t want to give Spencer any more power over you.

“Right. Okay. Thanks.” It came out shakier than you intended it to be and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. You took pride in your ability to not care about things like this, you didn’t get emotionally involved because of this reason. Your mind was overwhelmed with an abundance of doubts and self depreciation. Embarrassment. You were so embarrassedz

“Did Spencer not tell you? He has been stroppy all week. We thought maybe he had messed up and you were mad at him.” The words came out as a playful joke, but you found it humourless. Because although you weren’t mad at him, you were now.

You wondered if you even had a right to be mad. Clearly he wasn’t dead, so he was just ignoring you. You hated how much that thought made your heart hurt an overwhelming amount. You hated how you had now let someone in enough for their absence to have an effect on you.

“He.. No. He hasn’t told me” You mumbled out, your voice representing how distant your mind was from this conversation. A million different thoughts and each one as bad as the last. You didn’t want to tell his co-worker and one of his friends that he had just up and ghosted you, you didn’t think it was fair, but you could basically hear the confusion and concern lacing her voice. “He hasn’t talked to me at all in over a week..”

“What?” Her response came out hard and fast, tone laced with clear shock and confusion. “Thats- I mean it was a rough case but.. not.. that rough — Maybe he is just overwhelmed? Have you tried calling him? He can get distracted easily.” She rambled, trying just as hard as you were to find a valid explanation for his sudden disappearance.

But you both knew Spencer. Or you thought you did. You knew enough to know about his memory. He didn’t just forget. Or maybe he did. Were you forgettable for him? Were you something so minority important that it slipped through the tight grasp of his memory. Oh that wasn’t a fun thought.

“No- uhm.. I’m not going to call him.. If he wants to talk to me he would.” You muttered. You wanted to believe that, you wanted to not care as much as you were making it out to seem you didn’t. You wanted to feel casually about it. About him.

You really regretted kissing him two months ago.

You wished you could be the type of person who believed that was no point dwelling, the type of person who would be grateful it happened rather than sad it was over — but you just weren’t. You didn’t think you were capable of getting over someone unless you hated them with every fibre of your being. Unless they hurt you to the point of no forgiveness. You couldn’t be glad it happened — not when it ended like this.

It always ended like this, you knew that from the start.

“Im so sorry. I have no idea whats going on with him!” She apologised in his behalf and it was almost funny to you. How come a girl you met once seemed to have more remorse than the guy you had (stupidly) falling in love with.

You shook your head, but she couldn’t see you. “Don’t apologise. Its fine. Its not a big deal really. We weren’t much of anything anyways.” Maybe the words came out fast enough for you to believe them, maybe they were to try and convince yourself that it was true — that it was how you felt.

It seemed it was how he felt.

“Oh sweetheart” Penelope synthesised. “How about this — We can have a massive movie night at mine sometime over the weekend and if you haven’t heard from him by then, then we can talk about how bad his eyesight is and the amount of sugar he puts in his coffee” She mumbled.

You let out a laugh, you wished that his bad eyesight and way too much sugar was the worst you could say about him right now. Your opinions on the boy seemed a lot stronger. Although it made your heart ache that it was his friend apologising and making you feel better.

“I’d like that.” You said, pulling your knees closer to your chest as your curled in on yourself in your bed. You hated how cold and empty it felt without his presence by your side. Even with the same glow of your fairy lights, the room was lit with the same warmth when it was just you.

You were mad. If you could only use one emotion to describe how you felt it would be mad. Embarrassment, disappointment, hurt — they’d all be thrown out the window. You were just so mad.

At him, for making you believe that maybe things would be different, for letting you get close to him, allowing you to trust him, open up to him. You were mad at him for giving and taking like it was some sort of game. You were mad at his lack of communication. You were mad at how he once looked at you like you held so much value only to leave as if you were worthless.

But you were more mad at yourself. You had made it a rule not to date. You had a life, a good happy life before. You busied yourself with work and going to the library to read and get a moment of peace beneath the shelves of books, you enjoyed getting your coffee’s from the small cafe on the corner in the morning, and dancing with your small group of friends at the club on the weekends, and then Spencer came along and now all those things you enjoyed so much seemed dimmer without knowing you’d see him at the end of the day.

You were frustrated because you knew better than to let someone get close to you. You knew how codependent you became on the existence of another by your side. You knew this. You knew all of this. You knew you were cursed, unloveable if you really wanted to hurt your own feelings. You knew this.

Yet you let yourself get sucked into his sweet words and empty promises, his soft touch and warm embrace. You let yourself believe that things might be different this time.

And god were you mad about that.

But most of all, you were mad about the fact that despite all of this. All of the doubt and anger swirling through your veins and leaving every harsh breath that existed your lips, you didn’t hate him. You were mad at him — so mad, but there wasn’t a single part of you that would ever say you hated Spencer Reid.

Not optionally. If it was up to you, you would go back in time and you wouldn’t have let him get close enough for the line to be between love and hate.

You worried, still. About if he was okay, what he was doing. You hated that. You hated that he had made you soft.

You hated that you let him make you soft.

You hated that you still wanted him to reach out to you, apologise and say he had just been so busy, or say he just needed time after the case. You hated that if he showed up on your door step right now you’d probably let him in without a word — whereas if this was prior to six months ago you would’ve slammed the door in his face and told him to get fucked.

Love didn’t come easy for you. But loving Spencer was the easiest thing you have ever done. Hating him was near impossible.

[dollarbils]

my stalker | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your stalker isn’t too happy about the police report you’d just filed.

warnings. stalker billie, harsh words, physical struggle

the drive back from the police station was nerve racking. every turn you took you felt like someone was watching you. like she was watching you. your paranoia had overtaken your life as you watched every step you took, constantly checking your surroundings and double locking the door. you were scared, and she loved it.

the buzz of your phone interrupted your hasty movements to get out of your car. you waited until you had gotten inside, double locking the door of course, before answering.

“hello?” you didn’t recognise the number but you’d assumed it was the guy you met last night at a party. you’d left him your number since he was hitting on you.

“well that wasn’t very nice of you, was it?” her voice was deep, somewhat angry. and it took everything in you not to scream and panic.

“stay the fuck away from me you psycho!” you yelled through the phone, not hanging up though, wanting to hear her response.

“it’s in your best interest to be kinder to me, baby. i’m not here to hurt you.” here. here. here?

“i’m going to call the police if i see you in my garden again.” you peeked out of the window, scanning the bushes.

“oh please, give me more credit.” this time, the voice didn’t come from your phone, it came from behind you and you spun around in a quick movement to dodge her arm that was reaching for you. however, you weren’t quick enough, as her other arm pulled you back towards her. she pushed you against the wall, her hands pinning you in place and her strength defeating you.

“what on earth do you want from me?” you held her eye contact, masking your ever growing fear. she seemed surprised. you couldn’t make out her features completely due to the darkness. her eyes however, were captivating all the same.

“i want you to stop reporting me to the police, it’s annoying.” she pressed into you, pinning your face in place with her hypnotising eyes.

“maybe don’t stalk me.” you suggested and she rolled her eyes.

“you’re scared of me. i can tell.”

“well what did you expect exactly? a hug and a kiss?” it seemed to be that pissing her off more was the strategy you were going with.

“don’t be afraid of me. i’m what you need.” she whispered on your cheek. “i can hear your heart beating. calm down baby.” you squirmed in her arms, trying to fight her grip but she only pushed you back harder. however soft her words were, her actions never matched. her face was still impossibly close to yours as she waited for a response.

“nothing to say?” she commented, teasing you for your sudden silence.

“fuck you.” you moved quickly, catching her by surprise and getting past her grip to reach for your phone. she was quicker however, grabbing it and shoving it in her back pocket.

“what the fuck.. stalker.” you contemplated on what you should call her. she simply chuckled at what you came up with.

“it’s billie.” she clarified her name.

“i don’t care, give me my phone.” she kept her distance, no longer making a move to reach for you.

“come and get it.” she challenged. “don’t be scared.” she added when you made no move to get your phone back.

“just tell me what you want and give me my phone back.” you moved away from her slowly but she just followed, keeping the exact same distance between you no matter how far back you traveled.

“i think you know what i want. and im not about to give you your phone back so that you can wait for your boy toy to text you.” her grin revealed the glistening metal on her teeth, even in the dark.

“how..?” you were at loss for words. a sick feeling rising to your stomach. no matter where you went she’d always know, she’d always be there too.

“hm?” she mocked you, waiting for you to continue.

“just leave me alone.” you pleaded her but she just chuckled.

“but you’re so fun to play with.” her smile was bright but her eyes were dark. she moved closer to you as you backed away but like always, she was much quicker.

“you’re sick.” you shook your head as her hands came up to your face. you didn’t bother stopping the action.

“i feel quite good.” her lips came down to yours, kissing the side of them, but missing them by a millimetre.

“what are you doing?” her hands caressed your neck as she moved her face to look at you.

“i know we’re meant to be.” her words were soft, contrasting most of what had transpired. you felt her hand on your ass for a second longer than it should’ve been. but when she closed the door behind her and you reached inside of your pocket, you found your phone, as if it had been untouched.

as she walked away from your house calmly, a smile was plastered on her face. she knew you’d be thinking about her for the rest of the week. and that’s all she wanted. for now.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Omg Ivy I love how well you write your marauders fics! You’re amazing! Specially your wolfstar x reader!!!

Could you write another one, please? Like, reader is Remus’s best friend but she hates Sirius (he’s dating Remus), or she thinks she does, but in reality she’s jealous of him because he gets to touch Remus like she has always wanted to. And consequently Sirius thinks he hates her too, but in fact he’s just trying to hide the fact he’s on his feet for her as well. One day Remus is done with both of them and lock the three of them in a room and spill to them he is in love with both of them and can’t have them fighting anymore. And after that reader and Sirius end up confessing their own feelings for each other and they start dating after many kisses.

thank you so much for the request!! and the idea was so fun to write 💕 ps. i suck at summaries

𝟷.𝟿𝚔 || 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You thought you were jealous of Sirius for stealing away Remus's attention but maybe you just needed to admit your feelings for both of them.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Wolfstar x Reader

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with life, as usual, but it felt distant to you. You sat slumped on the couch, tapping your quill impatiently against your parchment, though not a single word had been written in the last half hour.

It was him. It was always him. Sirius Black, with his annoying smirk, his too-cool-for-school attitude, and the way he seemed to monopolize every moment of Remus’ time.

It was infuriating.

Remus was your best friend. You’d been through thick and thin together, shared secrets, laughed until your stomachs hurt. Yet now, whenever you were around him, Sirius was there too. The two of them always seemed to be in some intimate conversation or worse—touching. A hand on Remus’ shoulder, Sirius’ fingers threading casually through Remus’ hair. It was like a constant, silent reminder that you were on the outside looking in.

And you hated it. Hated how much Sirius made you feel like you didn’t belong, like you weren’t enough for Remus anymore.

“You know, glaring holes into parchment isn’t going to make it write itself.”

That voice. Smooth, low, with that aggravating lilt of arrogance. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“Go away, Black,” you muttered, still staring at the blank parchment.

Sirius flopped onto the couch opposite you, arms spread wide like he owned the place. “Come on, I’m just trying to be helpful. Your brooding is becoming a bit of a spectacle.”

You finally looked up, your eyes narrowing. “Oh, I’m sure my brooding is nothing compared to the grand theatrics you put on every time you walk into a room.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the verbal sparring. “Theatrics? Or natural charm? It’s a fine line.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Actually,” he leaned in with a smirk, “it’s Remus that helps me sleep at night.”

Your stomach twisted at that, the reminder of their relationship hitting harder than it should have. You hated that it hurt, hated that Sirius knew exactly how to push your buttons. But instead of backing down, you crossed your arms and fired back, “You mean, he puts up with you at night. Big difference.”

Sirius chuckled darkly, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “You’re hilarious, you know that?”

“And you’re unbearable.”

“Can’t handle a bit of competition?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly masked it with a sneer. “You? Competition? Please.”

“Oh, but I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Sirius said, his voice lowering. “You don’t hate me, do you? You just can’t stand the fact that I’m the one who gets to touch him.”

You didn't want to admit it, but maybe he was right.

The common room is quiet once again, save for the soft crackling of the fireplace and the occasional creak of floorboards as you shift uncomfortably in your chair. You're supposed to be studying, but your mind drifts far from textbooks and quills. Instead, it wanders to Remus who has somehow slipped from your grasp and into the arms of Sirius Black. Sirius bloody Black.

A sigh escapes your lips, frustration bubbling up inside you. It makes no sense. You’ve never particularly liked him. Sure, he’s handsome in an annoying, arrogant sort of way. With his dark hair that constantly falls into his grey eyes, he has the ability to make anyone—especially you—seethe with irritation. But it’s not just that. It's the way he has Remus.

You throw down your quill in irritation, glaring at your dorm room door. Any second now, Remus will walk in with Sirius at his side, and they'll sit together, talking quietly while you pretend not to care. It’s always like this. The three of you, but somehow, you always feel like the third wheel.

Your dorm door opens, and as if summoned by your thoughts, in walk Remus and Sirius. They're laughing at something you can't hear, and a pang shoots through your chest. You try to swallow it down, but the resentment lingers.

"Hey," Remus greets, his warm smile easing the tension in your shoulders just a little. He's the only person who can do that. The only person who has always been there for you.

"Hi," you manage, avoiding Sirius' gaze.

Sirius flops down onto the bed beside Remus, far too close for your liking. His arm brushes against Remus' casually, and you clench your jaw. He glances at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, his lips twitch, as if he’s about to say something, but he remains silent.

It's like this every time. You can't stand being around them when they're together, but you can't stand the idea of not being around Remus either. The tension builds with each passing day, and it's driving you insane. Especially because you don’t know what to make of the flutter in your stomach whenever Sirius speaks to you.

"Are you alright?" Remus asks, his eyes filled with concern. Of course, he notices.

"I'm fine," you say, a little too quickly. "Just tired."

Sirius snorts from his side of the bed, and you shoot him a glare.

"What's your problem?" you snap.

"My problem?" He raises an eyebrow, giving you that signature Sirius Black smirk that makes you want to smack him and… kiss him? You mentally slap yourself. No. No way.

"You’re being a brat," he says casually, leaning back with his arms behind his head, as though he owns the room.

"You're insufferable, Black," you spit out. Remus looks between the two of you, his brow furrowing. He’s always been the mediator between you and Sirius. But lately, even he seems to be getting tired of the constant bickering.

"Okay, enough," Remus says, his voice tight with frustration. He stands, looking between you and Sirius, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I’m done."

You blink, startled by the sudden change in his demeanor. "What are you talking about?"

"You two," Remus snaps, his eyes flashing. "This—this constant fighting. I can't take it anymore."

Your heart skips a beat as Sirius sits up, his smug expression fading.

"Moony—" Sirius starts, but Remus cuts him off.

"No. Both of you listen." He runs a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. "I can't… I can't do this anymore. I'm in love with both of you, and it’s tearing me apart to see you two at each other's throats all the time."

The silence that follows is suffocating. Your heart is racing, pounding in your chest so loudly you're sure everyone in the room can hear it. Did you hear him right?

"What?" you whisper, barely able to get the word out.

Remus looks at you, his expression softer now but still pained. "I love you both. And I can't stand the thought of choosing between you."

Sirius looks just as shocked as you feel. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. For once, Sirius Black is speechless.

You stand abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "You—you love us both?" Your mind is spinning. This can’t be real.

Remus nods, his eyes locked on yours. "Yes. But you both… you hate each other."

Your chest tightens at the way he says that. Does he think you truly hate Sirius? Do you even hate him? You glance at Sirius, and for the first time, you catch a flicker of something in his eyes—something vulnerable.

"I don’t…" you start, your voice wavering. "I don’t hate him."

The room feels like it’s closing in on you. All those moments of frustration and anger, all the times you’ve snapped at Sirius, all the snide remarks—it wasn’t hate. It was jealousy. Jealousy because he got to be with Remus in a way you never could. And maybe, just maybe, because you’ve been denying your own feelings for Sirius all along.

Sirius stands, his grey eyes locked on yours. "I don't hate you either," he admits quietly, his usual cockiness gone. "I… I’ve been lying to myself. Trying to pretend I didn’t… want you."

The air between the three of you shifts, the weight of the confession hanging heavy in the room. You feel dizzy, your heart racing as you try to process what’s happening.

"Remus," you breathe, looking back at him. "I… I love you too. I always have."

His face softens, and he steps closer to you, but before he can say anything, Sirius speaks again.

"And I… I love you too," Sirius says, his voice low but filled with emotion. "But it's not just Remus. It's you. I’ve been a coward about it. I didn’t want to admit it."

You stare at him, your breath catching in your throat. His words hang in the air, and suddenly, everything falls into place. The fighting, the tension, the way your heart flips every time Sirius speaks or even looks at you. You weren’t fighting because you hated him. You were fighting because you were terrified of what you felt for him.

"I…" You struggle to find the words, your emotions a tangled mess inside you. But before you can say anything, Sirius takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. His touch is soft, careful, as though he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

But you don’t. Instead, you lean into his touch, your breath hitching in your throat as you look up at him. His eyes are softer now, the usual arrogance replaced with something raw, something real.

And then, before you can think, before you can process what’s happening, Sirius leans in and kisses you. It’s tentative at first, a question in the way his lips brush against yours. But when you don’t pull away, when you kiss him back, he deepens the kiss, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer.

Your heart is racing, your mind spinning. This is Sirius. Sirius Black. The boy you thought you hated. The boy you thought you could never stand. But now, all you can think about is how right this feels.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, and you look over to Remus, who’s watching with a small smile on his face. He steps forward, pulling you into his arms, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I love you both," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "And I don’t want to lose either of you."

Tears prick your eyes as you lean into him, your heart swelling with love for both of them. You’re not sure how this will work, or what it means for the future, but in this moment, with Remus’ arms around you and Sirius by your side, it feels right.

You pull back slightly, glancing between the two of them, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "Well," you say, wiping at your eyes. "I guess we’re going to have to figure this out."

Sirius grins, that familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "I think we’ll manage," he says, leaning in to kiss you again, this time slower, more confident.

[lynzishell]

The Past 🩵 Asher

Once we’re seated and buckled, Lex turns to me to begin her interrogation before I even have a chance to pull out of the parking garage. “Okay, so, first things first, did you sleep with him?”

I glance over at her, surprised by her question. I figured that was implied considering we left the club together last night and I didn’t come home until this afternoon, but good for her for not making assumptions, I guess. “Yeah, I did,” I say, fighting a losing battle with the smile spreading across my face. 

She smacks me in the arm and gasps, “Really? How was it?”

This really isn’t the part of the night that I need to talk through, but I allow myself a moment to think about it anyway. I prop my arm up on the door so I can rest my head against my hand. My hair feels clean and soft, and still smells faintly of his shampoo, sparking a memory of running my hands over his body in the shower. The image makes my stomach flutter, and my voice comes out a little dreamy when I speak, “It was amazing.”

“Amazing? Well, I’m going to have follow-up questions.”

“And I won’t be answering any of those questions.”

“Ugh, fine,” she rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, “So, then what happened? How did things go from ‘amazing’ to you sobbing into my shoulder and getting snot all over my jacket?”

“I don’t know. Like, the whole night was great. It was fun, and he was so sweet, and it really felt like… It wasn't just a hook up, it was more than that. Or at least I thought so. Maybe I was just projecting or seeing what I wanted to see because I… fuck, I’m so embarrassed… whatever, I kinda put myself out there today, really thinking he’d reciprocate, but—”

“He didn’t?”

“No.”

“What did he say?”

“Same thing he always says. He doesn’t want to date me because we work together. He just wants to be friends. I don’t know, maybe I’m the asshole. How many times does he have to tell me he just wants to be friends? And I’m over here like, ‘are you sure? how ‘bout now?’ What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to stop.”

“Babe, c’mon, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. I know you. You wouldn’t do that if you didn’t really believe he felt the same way. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, you’re not imagining it. Sounds to me like he’s saying one thing but acting another and he’s fucking with your head and that’s not okay. If he truly wants to be your friend, then he needs to act like a friend, and he’s not. If you ask me, he’s the asshole, and you deserve a hell of a lot better.”

“I hear you; I do. He’s not an asshole, though. He’s really not. I think maybe it’s more complicated than that. Like, he was so kind, and affectionate… I really felt like he cared. And then today, he just looked so sad when I was leaving. You know how he does sometimes. But I’ve never seen him more down than he looked today, and my heart just, I don’t know, I just want to take that sadness away. I feel like I could make him happy if he’d let me.”

“Careful, Ash. Don’t do that. Don’t fall into that trap of thinking you can rescue him or fix him or something. That’s some toxic co-dependent shit. Pretty sure you get enough of that with your sister.”

“Ow.” Leave it to Lex to stab you in the heart with her honesty. I respect it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

“Did you or did you not drop everything to rush out to the Bay to help her the second she asked?”

“Yes, but—”

“Are your parents home?”

“Yes.”

“So, in theory, they could help her with her baby furniture or whatever today?”

I let her words sink in. I’ve gotten better at setting boundaries with Iris, but apparently, I still have some work to do. It didn’t even feel like an option to say no to her today, but now that seems ridiculous. Now, I wish I hadn’t rushed out on Atlas. Maybe we could’ve had a nice day together. Maybe I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself if I wasn’t so frazzled and trying to make everyone happy all at once. Damn. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I’m doing that with Atlas though. Like, sure, I want to make him happy when he’s sad, and maybe I overestimate my ability to do so, but I’ve never felt a need to ‘save’ him or whatever. It’s not like that. I just… I like him so much, Lex. I really do. I love spending time with him. And I love the way he makes me feel when we’re together. I could’ve sworn he felt the same way. I mean, just the way he…” my voice trails off as I remember all the ways he looked at me and smiled at me and kissed me and touched me, and then his words “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”, and the tenderness in his voice and in his eyes when he said it. The sweet way he kissed my forehead in the bathroom. The way he held me as we slept.

“The way he what? Hello? Where did you go?”

“You know what? I’m not fucking crazy. I’m not. I know he feels it too. So, maybe he really is just super weird about dating people he works with. I mean, on paper it seems logical, right? To not mix your professional life with your romantic one?”

“I don’t know. I guess? What are you getting at?”

“Well, it’s an easy enough obstacle to remove, don’t you think?”

“You’re gonna quit your job over a guy you’ve only known a few months?”

“Why not? It’s better than giving up on a great guy over some job I've only had a few months. I’m not just gonna quit though, don’t worry. I’ll get something else lined up first. But I have a decent portfolio. I don’t think it’ll be that hard.”

“Okay. Well, what if it doesn’t work? What if he’s full of shit, making excuses? What if you leave for him and he still just wants to be friends.”

“Honestly, at this point, if there’s any chance of me being his friend, I think I’ll need some distance for a while to get over him. And also, if I call his bluff and tell him I’m going to quit, and he still doesn’t want to be with me, then hopefully he’ll at least have the decency to tell me the real reason why. Otherwise, maybe I shouldn’t even try being his friend. Maybe, in that case, I’d have to face that he’s not who I thought he was and move on. But I won’t be able to do that unless I know for sure. So yeah, the more I think about it, this seems like the obvious solution regardless of the outcome.”

She pouts at me, clearly not happy, but she doesn’t have an argument against it, so she concedes, “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know.” I reach over and hold her hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Sorry about your jacket.”

She smiles at that, “It’s okay. Do you feel better at least?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Worth it then.”

Prev // Next

AN: Thank you so so much @madebycoffee for creating the perfect poses for this scene!!! This was my very first car scene and I was so nervous about it, but I love how it turned out and I couldn't have done it without you!! 🥹🩵🧡

[inmyheaddd]

meet me in the afterglow - averyjameson

a/n: this may be my fav averyjameson fic i’ve written 😕 wc: 1.7k warnings: swearing, our fav parents fighting 💔, angst but v fluffy ending i promise!! masterlist

avery sat in her room alone, reading a book to keep herself busy, but she wasn’t actually taking in a single word. 

she usually enjoyed the coldness of her room, but now it was just a bleak reminder that the one person who always radiated warmth and sent jolts through her with his touch wasn’t there with her.

and the worst part, was that it was her fault.

“what do you want me to do, heiress? act like i have it all figured out?” jameson’s voice grew louder, “well i don’t, i can’t just—”

“—just what?” she shot back, “jameson, i never asked you to act or pretend. i don’t need perfect, i don’t even want it. i need real.” her volume began to match his, even though she hated fighting with all her being. 

the moments from last night played on repeat in her mind like a broken record player she couldn’t stop. she chewed on her bottom lip, and before she knew it, her eyes began to sting. 

she wondered what jameson was doing now —drinking? driving at speeds far too high? blacked out? with his brothers? feeling nothing? feeling everything? whatever, she didn’t care. she didn’t care. 

“i need you to stop acting like nothing matters every time things get hard!”

“oh, so staying silent how you do is any better? fuck, avery, i hate to break it to you, but this is the “real” me. as real as it fucking gets.” he said through a force chuckle, letting go of the nickname and using her name instead. “if thats too much for you, or— or, or not enough for you, maybe you should just walk away.“ 

without realizing, another tear fell onto the page on her book, and it was like the boiling point for her. 

slamming the book shut and chucking it across her room, her hands came to cover her face as she sobbed, and she brought her knees up to her chest. 

she was muffling her sobs like she’d gotten so used to doing when she was growing up, so no one would hear her, but there was no one there to hear her now anyway. 

he took a step back, running a hand through his hair frustratedly as avery blinked back angry tears. “jameson, don’t even say that to me.” her voice quivered, but she wouldn’t let a tear drop. “don’t you dare look for the easy way out. you’re a hawthorne, aren’t you? the easiest answer is never the right one — you’re the one that told me that.” 

she trudged her way out of her room to the kitchen, after angrily wiping at her tears and staring at her reflection for far too long. 

she revised over all the things she would say to jameson when she saw him again, how sorry she was, how she never meant any of it, how she was so out of her mind.

jameson laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “avery, none of this is easy." his eyes met hers, his voice colder than she’d ever heard it. “you want someone i can’t be. you want a version of me that doesn’t exist. i can’t change myself no matter how hard i try, and believe me — i have.”

her throat began to tighten as she struggled to keep her composure. “jameson, no. i want you—whatever flaws you think you have and all.” she exclaimed, the next part coming out much quieter than she intended. “but you…” she trailed off, “you don’t even trust me with all of that. why can’t you understand that i love you for who you are? i want to work for us. i know we aren’t perfect, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t something worth trying for.” 

“heiress,” he paused, “trying isn’t working anymore. down the line we’ll both be miserable and you’ll say nothing until we have one of these bursting screaming matches like this again. you don’t deserve it. it’s not worth it.”

it’s not worth it. they weren’t worth it. she wasn’t worth it.

avery swirled the glass of water she filled up as she leaned against the counter, dim low lighting filling the empty kitchen. the freezing water made her feel as cold on the inside as she was outside. 

she finished her glass and made her way out of the kitchen, making a turn to get to the stairs, only to stop in her tracks and stagger back. 

her eyes met familiar green ones with slight bags under them, and an unruly bed of hair that usually looked a little tidier. 

avery was at a loss for words, jameson hawthorne, standing infront of her, giving up because things got too hard?

she scoffed, but she sounded more dejected than she did angry. “fine then. don’t try anymore.” she swallowed, taking in the way jameson’s brows softened and a flash of something passed through his eyes, though she couldn’t quite place it. regret? anger? satisfaction? 

she let her eyes do the talking for a moment before speaking. “you are the most selfish person i’ve ever met.” she added with purpose, every word like a dagger to him. she didn’t wait for anything he had to say, turning on her heels with one last look and walking out of the room. 

jameson called out for her, but she kept walking. her heart beat faster than it ever had before and it was like every inch of her body wanted to turn around and collapse in his arms. 

—to apologize for everything she did and didn’t do, to look into his eyes and see that glitter of love in them, for him to kiss the tears off of her and simply be there.

unfortunately for avery kylie grambs, she didn’t always get what she wanted, and she kept walking forwards. 

avery felt like she had the wind knocked out of her as jameson stood infront of her, breathing heavily as he looked equally as surprised to have found her.

every rehearsed line and practiced speech she had left her mind in that moment. the only thing that rang through it was his name. “jameson,” she said, almost whispering. 

“heiress, wait.” he said, reaching an arm out to stop her leaving— he couldn’t let her go. she wasn’t going to anyway, she felt frozen in place. she also didn’t want to leave.

“i, i don’t know what to say, jameson, i’m so sorry.” she said with a light shake of her head, “i was so out of line last night, and i shouldn’t have—“

he cut her off, “no, avery, let me just say this, please.” he said with pleading eyes. “i think i should be institutionalized with the way i felt like i’ve lost my mind without you. i know i lost my mind last night, that’s for sure.” 

he chuckled nervously, and avery knew jameson hawthorne never got nervous. “avery, you are worth every single thing on this goddamn planet— in the whole universe. i don’t think i could begin to conceptualize a life without you in it. what i said last night? i lied.“ 

he took a deep, shuddering breath in. “i said i couldn’t change for you, but i know that’s not true, because i have— before my own eyes. every waking day i spend with you makes me want to become better, for you, heiress.” 

avery felt her eyes begin to prick with tears once again, but she didn’t feel a single drop of hurt in her body now. “i’ve never felt so deeply devoted and in love with anything in my life before, and that scares me. it scares me in a way nothing has before because i know it’s so real. but im not letting my fears get in the way, not anymore.” 

jameson’s chest heaved as he looked down at avery, “heiress. you don’t have to say anything.” he said upon seeing her glossy eyes.

there was nothing she could say anyway to express the complete enamored feeling she felt when she looked at him, to express how much she loved him. 

she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, as his arms wrapped around her middle like if he held any looser she would disappear, his head dropping down to her neck.

“i’m so sorry,” avery sobbed into his shoulder, “i love you so much. i’m so in love with you. i couldn’t ever imagine losing what we have.” 

“you won’t ever have to, heiress. i’m staying forever.” he mumbled, as one of his hands came to run through her hair. when she didn’t respond, and he heard her muffled hiccups, he spoke once again. “heiress,” he he lifted his head, his voice low and almost musical. “don’t get all sappy on me now, i much prefer that smile of yours.” 

she sniffled as she let out a little laugh, pulling back from the hug and wiping away at her tears. “shut up.” 

jameson’s smile only grew at the sound of her laugh, and her now slightly red eyes met his. her smile faded for a second before she spoke again, remembering the events that had just happened the day before. 

“jameson, i— you have no idea how sorry i am.” her brows slightly furrowed as she shook her head, echoing her words for earlier.  

he chuckled, reaching his hands out to grab hers, “yeah? i think if you repeat it one more time, i’ll have a pretty good idea.” 

“stop it,” she laughed, “im being serious.” 

“so am i. you don’t have to apologize.” 

“i do, though. and i’m sorry,” 

“if you say you’re sorry once more, i may have to consider bringing you to rehab for people pleasers.” 

“jameson,” avery breathed out through a chuckle, “i just wanted you to know.”

“heiress, i know.” he nodded with a small grin as he brought her closer, and she let go of his hands and brought them to his chest. 

his eyes flickered over her whole face, frequenting back to her lips and eyes, and there was that glitter of love in his that she loved so much.  

“can i kiss you now?” he mumbled.

“you don’t even have to ask.” her voice was barely audible in the small space between them.

he hummed in disagreement as he leaned in, his lips barely touching hers. the mere act made avery feel like she was buzzing alive as her breath caught in her throat. it would never get old.

“i like hearing you want me, like how i want you.” he whispered against her lips, before finally pressing a kiss to them, and they quickly found their rhythm against eachother. 

his hands moved to cradle her face, like he needed her as close to him as humanly possible, his brows knotting deeply as he kissed her.

jameson pulled back ever so slightly, his forehead resting against hers as they both caught their breath. 

his thumb brushed gently across her cheek as he looked at her, his heart leaping at the sight of the her smile.

"see," he murmured, his voice soft, "much better than the sappy stuff."

avery let out a small laugh, feeling light on her toes. she looked into his eyes, feeling the love pouring out of them. “everything is better with you.”  

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @sweetlikeanangel

@littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @tornqdowarnings @maybxlle @sheisntyou

@emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreverie — if you’d like to be added or removed lmk!

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [3]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but what you can't do is accept the fact that they're your soulmates.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory

Words: 8.8k

ao3 is down so I'll update it first here. Chapter got delayed since this wasn't originally part of the roster. its currently 1am so there will be mistakes I missed but that's for future Winter's problem.

edit: please comment if you want to be added to the tag list :DD

[1] [2] [3]

__________

For a guy with his heart on his sleeves and his emotions displayed so loudly on his face like neon signs with gigantic arrows, Taehyung is an enigma.

It didn’t help that he had experience in acting, if anything it made it harder to understand him.

One moment he's supportive of your quest for a perfect husband then another, he's raging with a jealousy even the power of the thousand burning suns couldn't replicate. Even when Guwon has long disappeared, Taehyung didn't stop from hanging off of your arm when the three of you had entered your home. 

In the short time they had stayed over, he made sure he was somehow close to you or having you within his sight while Jimin returned to being the sweet boy he had always presented himself as but the glint of something dark in his eyes never disappeared.

But it didn't make any sense. All of their behaviors, even Jimin, is confusing.

Taehyung had introduced a date to the group before, and had hooked up with a few people from the after-parties if the others’ words were anything to go by. Jimin is the same, although he took every chance to flirt with you at any time and everywhere, you always thought it was him being his playful self. But after last night?

You don't know.

And you hate not knowing.

To find out that Jin still liked you was shocking already, then comes this new realization—along with the impacts of Jungkook’s confession—to knock you off of your feet. You thought he had moved on like he had said years before, but last night's conversation had told you otherwise.

“That's the tenth time I've heard you sigh just this hour alone and we're only drinking coffee, what’s wrong?”

Your head shot up to meet the concerned gaze of the oldest make-up artist. Jihae is one of the original staff back from 2013, the woman who had picked you up when you tripped in front of the BigHit building crying with your bag spilled out, having been given a low grade in one of your subjects. 

They were lacking in staff back then, urgently searching for another body to help with the debut look and when she saw your cosmetic bag, she tugged you inside and told you to agree with whatever they were going to ask. 

Stunned, you followed the woman without question.

A month later, you dropped out of the nursing course your mother had insisted you take and pursued cosmetology.

Many times have you looked back at the memory and grimaced. It could've gone wrong, she might've been leading you into a trafficking ring but nonetheless, you're glad you had accepted it.

All because Jihae had seen you with mascara-stained tears and somehow deemed you skilled enough for the job. Up until today, you still wonder what she had seen in an emotional teenager who had comically tripped face-first in the company’s front yard, mascara running down her face and thought: ‘She’d be a good addition’ . 

Whatever it is, you're thankful. 

“Hey, you still with us?”

Snapping out of your trance, you wearily smiled at her. “Yes I am, unnie. Just frustrated about something...”

At this, multiple heads turned to you, their stares a varying mix of curiosity and teasing. Suddenly reminded of the group lunch Jihae had proposed that day, a bonding exercise for the entire make-up artists roster, for better teamwork, she had said and internally facepalmed. You had forgotten that it wasn't just your friends sitting on the table with you and you had just aired your problem out in the open for them to hear.

Fuck Kim Taehyung and his confusing attitude. You should beat his ass next time you see him for being the catalyst to the dilemma haunting your mind.

Leaning closer to you, Nabi—another friend of yours—crossed her arms and flashed a shit-eating grin.

“Is it boy problems?”

Instantly, the table explodes into chatters, all of their questions drowning each other.

“Which one of them?”

“Did someone from Bangtan confess to you, unnie?”

“Is it Hoseok? Please say it is! I have a bet with someone from the styling department.”

“Was it Taehyung? I always thought he had a crush on you for a whi—”

“It's not any of them, please we're just friends.” You interjected before they dig further and find truth in their questions. “It's a different guy I've had two dates with.”

Never had you sounded more unsure of yourself until now and you had wished nobody had noticed. But one look around the table says differently. Your friends’ eyes glinted, all of them telling you that this discussion was far from over and you find yourself already dreading opening the groupchat once you're home. But unlike them, someone wasn't satisfied with your answer and crossed her arms from the other end of the table.

“Why so dismissive, unnie? We're all friends here, no need to be so defensive.”

Immediately, the ones closest to her snapped their heads at her with a scandalized look. Alexa was a new recruit, A half-Korean and half-Chinese who lived in the States for a better half of her life, had just joined the week before the first leg when one of the crew went into labor and had recommended her cousin as her last minute replacement until she could return.

In the short time she had been in the company, there had been whispers and none of them were positive. Rumors of an unhealthy obsession hidden beneath the skillfully applied make-up that granted her a younger and cuter appearance, hushed stories of their encounters where she'd reveal her soulmate mark—inked initials, and written on her wrist is a K.S.J, something she boasted around with a smug look, as if to imply something you refuse to entertain.

It was absurd. 

Seokjin was untethered, if he got a soulmate mark out in the open, he would've screamed it on top of the world. Delighted and in cloud nine at the thought of having someone destined for him. Not to mention, it meant that he didn't need to go through any of the shit you've gone through, going through dates after dates looking for someone better to settle down with only to be met with constant disappointment at the end of the day.

(You'd also be the first to know. He would've ran to you and asked if you manifested a mark too, but for your sanity, you pushed the thought at the back of your head as soon as it came.)

To say, to imply that Seokjin’s soulmate is the kid on the side of the table, it almost made you grimace.

“Hey Alexa, I know you're just new and a foreigner but that doesn't mean we'd let you disrespect your seniors!” Minhyuk, someone who had quickly wormed into your friend group last year, had jumped to your defense.

Alexa scoffed. “I'm just saying, no need to be so secretive, unnie. Everyone in this table knows how close Bangtan is to you. Everyone is wondering if you've at least dated one of them.”

“Hey Alexa, that's a bit…”

“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I'm just saying what you're all thinking,” She looks back at you. “I've seen how they look at you, surely you've at least had a fling with someone.”

Your brows shot up, incredulous and shocked by her audacity but before you could bite back, Minhyuk stood abruptly, face darkened with pure unadulterated anger.

“Oh this—” Nabi and you were quick to tug him back down to sit. 

At the commotion, everyone in the cafeteria shifted their attention to your table, inquisitive and curious of what might've set off the resident social butterfly, someone who everyone knows the name of and has been at the end of his constant kindness.

Minhyuk is a passionate soul, especially towards his job and friends. Having been kicked out for being himself, he turned to the very skill that had his father screaming expletives at him. Recommended by Jihae, who had been visiting a nearby friend at the time and was passing by his street, had found him crying in the rain, outside the gate of his family house. She had taken him home and the rest was history.

There's never been a time when you've all hung out, five emptied bottles of Sojus later, where he wouldn't be crying, thankful for the chance your eldest had given him before turning to you, sobbing loudly and hugging you and the rest of the group in a tight grip. Heart full of gratefulness for his new found family.

So there was no shock that he had been the first one to jump at the first sign of aggression towards your group.

“Everyone is looking, hyuk. Let's calm down.” Nabi whispered to him, eyes cautious and Minhyuk grunted.

“She's lucky we're in public, I would've torn her down for that comment.”

At the end of the table, Alexa scoffed, incredulous. “Are you seriously mad that I'm saying my opinion? Is it a crime to express their own opinion these days?”

“Not when it's as rude as yours.”

Jihae sighs. “Calm down the both of you. Remember that you're working right now.”

You didn't doubt that everyone in the company has speculated about your relationship with Bangtan. It's hard not to when the maknaes hang onto your words and comfortably play around with you, especially not when you have dinner at their dorm every other week so you didn't blame the newbie for being curious.

That's what you would've felt if she hadn't been going around planting ideas into people's heads that she might be Jin’s soulmate like the delusional slug she is.

You had half a mind to loosen your grip on Minhyuk and let him wipe the floor with her unnecessarily expensive work clothes.

Shrugging both your and Nabi’s arms from his, Minhyuk stands up again only to walk away from the table. Instantly, the rest of your group follows him as he marches through the gathered crowd in the cafeteria and in front of the closed elevator.

You trailed behind him, waiting for his eventual frustrated explosion as he always does after an encounter with Alexa since she was hired. Once you were all far enough, hidden away from the prying eyes of the public, he threw his head back and let out a loud, exasperated groan.

“That girl I fucking swear!” He growled as combed his long hair back. “Why did we even let her continue working after the tour?! We could've just found a better alternative, she's getting into my fucking nerves!”

Nabi sighed. “It's not like we have a final say in this, hyuk. Whether you like it or not, we'll be stuck with her until Hyuna comes back.”

“God,” He groaned. “You should've let me hit her once! I'm so tired of hearing her bullshit! Surely, you've heard the lie she's spreading around right?!”

“Like Nabi has said, we can't do anything unless it starts to hurt the reputation of the idol. She's smart for not saying it outright and somehow containing it within the styling departments.” Jihae responds with a defeated shake of her head.

The answer didn't satisfy Minhyuk, who then turned to you with a pout and wide puppy eyes before promptly stomping over and taking both your hands in his.

“Surely you can pull some strings, noona? Tattle off to Namjoon hyung or Seokjin hyung, surely one of them would do something, right?”

You almost considered his suggestion. Alexa had been grating your gears ever since she arrived to replace Hyuna. You had excused her lack of cooperation with the team for being a newbie and clumsy mistakes of haphazardly leaving her items everywhere for the stress of the new environment she was suddenly put in. But for her to go around implying Seokjin is her soulmate is another can of worms you didn't even want to open.

The mere thought of her existing on the same floor as Seokjin invokes an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

But unfortunately, even if you had tattled to Namjoon about her, nothing would happen since it's not too drastic of an event to fire someone over for. It's also just not a good idea overall. The tour is set next Wednesday and while Alexa doesn't cooperate with most of the team, she unfortunately got the skill to back her up. Her skills nearly compensate for her rude personality.

Almost.

“They won't fire someone over a small argument, Hyuk. Just suck it in until Hyuna returns.”

“Which will be in December after Japan,” He mulls it over before shaking his head. “Yeah no, I don't think I can tolerate her nasty ass that long.”

The elevator opens—Jihae had called it the moment they've arrived, bless her—and everyone piles in. It was a quick ride, the stylists being on the floor below the cafeteria. In a flash the metal doors parts opened and you all walked out. But before you could follow your friends back into your department, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

Slowing down, you pulled the device out and looked at who's texting you.

           [13:02] Hobi: can ask you a favor

           [13:02] Hobi: just an itsy bitsy favor 🤏🤏

           [13:02] Hobi: I promise it's harmless😁

There's also a text from Guwon not too long ago. Something you missed while you were lost in your thoughts earlier.

           [12:30] Guwon: Eat your lunch soon!

           [13:03] You: hi sorry late reply, I was having lunch with my co-workers, couldn’t use my phone during.

           [13:03] You: I hope your lunch was good😁

You briefly grimaced at how robotic your reply sounded before returning to Hoseok who had sent another text.

           [13:03] Hobi: don't leave me on seen please😢

           [13:03] Hobi: noona noona noona noona noona

           [13:04] You: hoba hoba hoba hoba hoba

           [13:04] Hobi: YAY

           [13:04] You: how can I help you?

           [13:05] Hobi: can you deliver lunch to hyung?😁

           [13:05] Hobi: I would do it myself but I'm currently helping Seokjin hyung and Namjoon with the dance

           [13:06] Hobi: and we both know Yoongi hyung wouldn't eat on time if I do it

           [13:06] Hobi: can you do it for me?🥺

           [13:06] You: sure, you guys still in the dance practice room?

           [13:07] Hobi: ur a life saver

           [13:07] Hobi: an angel in disguise

           [13:07] Hobi: but yes😁

           [13:08] Hobi: just knock on the door when you're here😁

“Y/N?” Jihae asks and you look back up to see your group waiting for you.

“Who is it?” Nabi adds.

“Better be news of Alexa getting fired. If not, I don't want to hear it.” Minhyuk says as he crosses his arms. You shook your head and he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Got asked to help with something but I'll be back in a moment.”

With a brief goodbye, you turned back to the elevator and directed yourself to the floor where the dance practice rooms are at. 

The walking distance from the elevator is not too far from the dance room but seeing five familiar teenage boys speaking in hushed whispers and hitting each other's arms in front of the vending machine just a feet away from the door easily distracted you.

If they had been crowding around the machine, you would've thought they were fighting over the last snack but instead they were all facing the same direction as your destination.

Sneaking up to the five giants, you're slowly introduced to the dilemma they were hitting and pushing each other for.

“You're the oldest, you should go and knock!”

“Just because I'm the oldest doesn't mean I should always be the first! Why are you even ordering me around?! Go ask Huening Kai instead!”

“Why me? I can't talk in Korean, I-I’m foreigner .”

“Oh don't you pull that shit on us. How are you only a foreigner when it matters?!”

“What are we talking about?”

Three shrill screams pierced through the air as the five of them jumped back, awkwardly long bodies falling against and clutching onto each other for dear life, all of them huddling onto the next body for protection. But once they recognize you, Yeonjun immediately regains composure and breaks off from the cluster to stomp over to you with his bottom lip jut out as he dramatically latches onto your arm.

“Noonaa, why would you scare us like that?!”

When you first met Yeonjun, he was standing in front of the cafeteria bar in front of the exhausted cashier and the long irritated line of workers, peering up onto the menu before looking down to count his money. He looked like a little kid lost in the sea of busy adults, painfully alone and helpless as the hungry customers behind him began to complain loudly.

He had been holding up the line as he recounted his change once more, hoping he had miscounted and that he could afford what he was eyeing. Seeing his hopeful expression crumble into defeat was enough to make you approach him and buy him lunch. 

Yoongi had teased you when he found you being trailed by another kid, saying you were collecting every doe eyed kid in the company and becoming their reliable older sister. Especially when his soulmates began to follow his footsteps.

“What were you guys doing? Fighting against who gets the last chip?”

Beomgyu then ran to wrap his arms around yours, the sweetest and most innocent smile plastered on his face as the two boys began to walk you forward, the destination? The dance studio.

“You know that we love you right, noona?”

Why these kids are genuinely intimidated by your sweet Hoba is beyond you. The man screams and flinches at the smallest of bugs daring to exist two feet away from him. Still, you entertained them with a raise of an eyebrow and Yeonjun continued.

“Our favorite make-up noona, the greatest sister figure we have ever had, my savior and my salvation, our dearest credit—”

“Okay, what do you guys want?”

You all stopped in front of the dance room door. IDOL was blasting on the other side of the wall, the floor vibrating with the beat. Although muffled, you could pick up the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor and heavy footsteps accompanying the song.

“Could you pretty please knock on the door?” Beomgyu asks, pleading and also hopeful and the rest of his brothers chimed from behind you with their own versions of the request which ended up sounding like a bunch of warbled words.

“Couldn't you have done that yourselves?”

“But they're busy and J-Hope sunbae is scary.” Taehyun quietly adds behind you.

“Hoba? He's the sweetest though?”

“Okay, let's not lie to ourselves now,” Huening Kai shoots back before motioning to the door. “Just… knock and we'll handle it from there. We promise!”

“Cross our hearts.” Taehyun says, drawing  a cross over his chest. The other four follow.

Dance teacher Hoseok to you is a hoax. You've never been subjected to his intense scrutiny and harsh perfectionist side, always managing to slip past or only being able to meet him outside of the workplace where he'd be far relaxed and cheerful. 

Sure there's been plenty of photographic and recorded evidence posted in the group chat but you still find it hard to believe he's more frightening than the bugs that scare him off the room.

“He's not that scary, guys.”

Taehyun scoffs. “Easy for you to say.”

“Crush privileges.” Soobin quietly adds.

“What—”

The door swings open before you could ask what he meant and Jungkook steps out of the room. 

In a span of a second, the memories of his drunken confession flashed before your eyes. From the moment he had entered your home with bags of snacks to the way his voice had sounded, hushed and shaky, when he asked you for a kiss.

Seeing him again outside the concert where Namjoon and Yoongi had made sure there were no contacts between the two of you, evoked a weird sense of longing within you. Having absolutely no contact with Jungkook for two days had you missing and recollecting your past memories with him. In the short amount of time you've been away, you wondered about many things.

From something as headache-inducing variations of hows and whys questioning his attraction to you to something more simple and short like ‘how is he feeling right now?’.

It was a dumb question with an obvious answer yet you wanted to know. Curiosity and anxiety clawing at your chest. 

Is your friendship still okay? 

Did rejecting someone this time finally ruin your entire dynamic with the group? 

Should you have chosen someone as your sister had told you to do? 

They have plagued your mind and haunted you in your waking days yet the moment you finally see him, your mouth dries up and your voice dies in your throat.

But before you could even muster the courage to talk to him, he turned his attention to the boys who had retreated behind you the moment the door opened and greeted them with a short bow before walking away, completely ignoring you. Pain blooms in your chest like a thorned vine wrapping and strangling your heart tighter and tighter as you watch his back disappear around the corner.

“Did sunbae just ignore noona?”

“Is that even possible?”

“I didn't hallucinate that, right?”

“Noona, are you okay?” Soobin’s concerned voice, soft and cautious, brings you back to reality and you turn to them, a precariously built smile on your face.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The five shared a look as you stepped into the studio, exposing you to the two figures laid on the floor, heaving and panting. The main topics of your thoughts sitting at the far corner next to the black plastic table while Hoseok stood in the middle of the room, unaffected by whatever had happened and was chugging the water from the small bottle in hand.

As if he had grown a sixth sense for you, he suddenly spun around, a wide grin brightening his stern face.

“Noona!”

At this, the two men on the floor perks up. Namjoon merely waves before promptly dropping back down, Jimin and Taehyung only smiled at you, looking spent from whatever routine Hoseok had them do before turning to the two tallest. Seokjin had pushed himself up to stand and approach the black plastic table from the other end of the room where a dozen take outs were.

As Hoseok approached you, his gaze then found the cluster of five heads peeking through the sides of the entrance and laughed.

“You’ve got five ducklings following you, noona, didn't know you started collecting more after our maknaes.” He jokes before turning to the teens and waving them over. The group then spread to occupy the space in the doorway and bowed. “What can I do for you guys?”

They suddenly disappear behind the wall but you hear them hitting each other and their whisper-shouts, it took a long while before Soobin was pushed out of the shadow and forced to talk to their sunbae. The painfully shy teen shuffles over, shoulders folded forward and taking the smallest of steps forward before stuttering a bow.

A wide smile brightens Hoseok's face, endeared by the boy’s overly formal actions.

“H-Hi sunbae.”

“Hello, Soobinie.”

“We-we we're just wondering if we-we could watch you guys? Practicing dancing I mean—Not that you sunbaes need it cause you're professionals!—I mean of course you still need to practice to be better at dancing and—wait no—”

“ Yah Soobin, stop embarrassing us like this!” Yeonjun scolds and immediately, the boy almost broke his neck with how face he looked over his shoulder.

“Then go do it yourself!”

“We don't mind, as long as you guys stay in a corner like good kids then we'll all be good!” Hoseok cuts in before an argument ensues.

There's a tap on your shoulder and you look over to see Seokjin standing behind you, a gentle smile playing on his plush lips, both hands hidden behind him.

There's an awkwardness that hung in the air as you both gazed into each other's eyes before he cleared his throat and began.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes.” You lie. Jin caught it.

Turning to face him fully, he then takes one of your hands and forces your fingers to hold the neatly folded top of a paper takeout bag.

“I've packed Yoongi’s portion here as well as an extra for you.”

“You didn't need to, I already ate.”

“I even had them order some soft tofu soup, you were craving it last week, right?”

It was sweet being loved so selflessly by him. It tasted like the sweetest nectar from the garden of Eden with a foul aftertaste once your mind reminded you of your sins against the man and the thorned tendrils of guilt coiled tighter around your chest, its sourness easily overlapping the sweetness of his love.

After Jungkook pretending you didn't exist earlier, having Jin, someone who you didn't even know still admired you all these years while you had messed around with many faces and came to work with some of their marks on your skin, expressing his care had you almost bursting at the seams. 

It enrages you thinking about Alexa going around spreading her bullshit spiel about being Jin’s soulmate. As if she deserved a morsel of his attention.

Nobody deserves Seokjin, not even you.

“Thank you Jinnie, but I already ate.” You then remembered your promise to return to your friends soon. “And Jihae is expecting me back immediately.”

“Coffee and toast is not lunch.” He deadpans as he takes your hand and forces it to close around the pack. “Just eat it with Yoongi, he'd be happy to be able to eat with someone and I’ll handle Jihae noona.”

“How the hell did you know what I had for lunch?”

Shock crossed over his face and he brought a hand over his mouth. “I was right? I just had a hunch on what you ate.”

“That’s a bit creepy, old man.”

“Maybe it’s a soulmate mark manifesting.” He shrugs but you doubt he meant it in a joking way.

“You’re way past the age, give it up hyung.” 

You both turned to the door at Jungkook’s voice. Like earlier, he had strode in without acknowledging your presence, something Seokjin had noticed immediately. His eyes slid to the five boys tentatively pushing each other to the empty corner of the studio before looking back at their youngest.

“How could you insult me like this? I fed you with my hands, you should be addressing me formally with a full 90° bow!” 

“I should’ve bitten your hands at least once back then.” Jungkook jokingly muses.

Before you could witness their banter explode, there’s a tug on your shirt and you spun around to face Hoseok who had nudged his head to the door. Jin had already marched towards the maknae before you could even thank him so you left.

Once you were both outside the studio, Hoseok closed the door behind and hugged you.

“Wh-what is this?”

“A thank you hug for being the sacrifice and feeding the grumpy dragon instead.” He says with a laugh but you knew what he was trying to do. It was in the way he tried soothing you with back rubs and this tight hug.

“I’m fine, Hoba. I didn’t expect us to be buddy buddy again after what happened.”

He sighed.

“He still shouldn’t have done that. I’m sure Seokjin hyung will talk to him about it later.”

Stepping back, you shook your head. “No need, I understand why he’s acting like that.”

His eyes regarded your face for a moment before pulling you back in for a hug and nuzzling his head on top of yours. “You don’t have to defend him noona, he’s acting like a child. It's our duty as his hyungs to fix that up.”

“Please don’t. It feels like you’re taking sides, he might think it's unfair.”

He laughs. “Are you kidding? ‘Cause from what I’m seeing, he’s being a petulant child. He should handle the rejection with more grace when it's his fault he’s in this predicament. You know Seokjin hyung warned him, right?”

“He told me when he and Tae took him home.”

“Then you should know better than defend him.” You opened your mouth to refute but he pressed a finger to your lips. “Don't start. He's not the same sixteen years old we had to raise back then, he needs correcting.”

With two hands on your shoulders, he then spun you around and began to push you towards the elevator, leaving no room for an argument. 

Once he had led you back to the locomotive, he briefly stepped in to push the correct button for the production floor and stepped back and waved as the elevator wall slowly closed to a shut.

“Now go feed hyung and yourself before you go back to work. Thank you again noona and see you later."

“Special delivery for a grumpy hairless cat!”

A beat.

Then came a grumbled: “Come in.”

Punching the proper strings of numbers on the door code, you open the door to the genius lab to find Yoongi sitting in front of his computer, one ear off of his headphones as he goes back to a specific second again and again.

Situating yourself on the couch next to the door, you place the paper bag on the coffee table and slowly unload all its contents, hoping its smell is enough to deter him from his work just for a second.

Taking one of the containers, you open it to see bulgogi generously sprinkled on top of rice. The savory smell of the dish wafting out almost immediately, and Yoongi visibly perks up from his table; if perking up meant him temporarily stopping his incessant clicking and head tilting a little to the side.

“Is it all bulgogi?”

Placing down the container, you opened the other one to reveal the same dish except this time with fried rice.

“Yeah, you want fried rice or no?”

“Whatever you like less.” He grumbled as he returned to his work.

“That's not a proper answer.”

“Just take whatever you want, I like either.” He muttered.

Staring at the food on the table, you found yourself at a crossroads. The fried rice looks more appetizing than the plain white rice on the other container but you've had enough sodium for the week, having challenged Taehyung, Jimin and Jin to who can eat more ramyeon in one sitting the day before the concert.

But today just doesn't feel like a plain rice type of day. 

But fried rice isn't healthy.

“Just choose please, I don't know what I want either.” You groaned out, frustrated.

With a grunt, the man took off his headphones and turned to face you before maneuvering himself closer to the table and picking up the container with the plain rice.

“Stop thinking so much about what is healthy or not,” He remarked as he took a pair of chopsticks from the paper bag. “I could hear your thoughts even with my headphones on and my back turned.”

“Then why tell me to choose if you already knew?”

Yoongi only shrugged as he took his first bite, prompting you to take yours. He seems to mull over something as he chews, staring at the food on the table for a while before placing the container down and leaving the room without a word.

You had learned not to question his confusing actions throughout the years, even then you couldn't help but be bewildered.

When he returned, he was carrying two drinks in one hand. Sprite and Kombucha. Settling back on his chair, he placed down the bottle of Kombucha in front of him before opening the can of sprite and placing it in front of you.

“I don't have any straws on me so you'll have to just chug it.”

People don't usually notice it but you think Jin and Yoongi are more similar in how they show their affections, just in different volumes. Seokjin’s care is always voiced out, always asking whether you want something or not and offering to do or make it for you while Yoongi just somehow always knows what you want and does it wordlessly. Both of them are always willing to provide.

If you had asked them for something as ludicrous as fried cotton candy with melted cheese on top, Jin would complain and express his disgust openly, ranting about the strenuous process while holding the handle of the pan and a spatula in the other while Yoongi would cook it without questioning your sanity.

Either way, it never fails to make your chest warm.

“Thank you, Yoongs.”

He suddenly takes a huge bite, bringing the container close to his face before humming out his response, easily flustered as ever.

You both eat your food in silence. With years of friendship under your belt, you have learned to enjoy the serenity Yoongi brings. It had been rough at the start, his quietness matched with his stoic expression had often led to misunderstandings where you often thought he thinks of you badly for being close to his brothers, especially after Jin’s confession.

He had confronted you once he heard it from Namjoon—who had immediately tattled onto his hyung after you had told him not to tell anyone—, saying he simply had problems expressing himself. You could remember how his hands, despite being entangled with each other, shook with his voice, could recall how he had forced himself to hold eye contact with you when he always had difficulties in holding one.

It was thoughtful and that was the first time you had felt the tingles of warmth in your chest. Teenage you had her feet swept off by a stuttering mess of a guy with eye contact issues.

Despite Jin being the first in the group to confess, Yoongi was the first to touch your heart.

“Why are you looking at me like that?’

You tilt your head. “Like what?”

A conflict of emotion crossed his eyes as he struggled to find the words but before he could, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

           [13:54] Guwon: I'm at the cafe close to your building

You almost choked on your spit, surprised by his message. His office was on the other side of the city, why would he drive so far just to get some coffee with you during work days? 

Love , a voice answers and you immediately waved it off.

There was no way he had fallen in love with you in such a short time. You have been on two dates with him yet he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend when there's been multiple times throughout those days and nights he had the chance to do so.

During nights where you'd restlessly toss around on your bed, you found yourself facing one more problem outside of your friends.

You didn't notice when it started when Guwon began to make your stomach churn and it bothers you to the nines at how you were being suspicious of him.

Guwon is a genuinely nice guy with a legit and grand background from what you learned throughout the short time you've been hanging out, his case stories of helping out women stuck in abusive relationships and bringing justice to those the law has failed once proven true when you've typed his name on Naver. The man didn't deserve the doubt twisting in your stomach nor the aversion you were slowly gaining towards him.

Your conflicting feelings surrounding your friends' confessing and odd behaviors shouldn't be affecting your relationship with the man you will marry at some point yet it ended up doing so.

There was something foul and bitter simmering in your guts these days whenever you force yourself to think about him during your time. It burns like bile and tasted like betrayal, almost like unfaithfulness ; you try not to think hard on why you feel this way but it's hard not to when Jimin and Taehyung's jealousy keeps flashing behind your eyelids with every blink.

           [13:55] You: Oh wow, which one?

           [13:55] Guwon: The one on the left side, Areum Cafe.

           [13:55] Guwon: Are you free to get a cup of coffee with me?

           [13:56] Guwon: Sorry for springing this up on you

           [13:55] Guwon: I missed you🙁

“Who is it?”

“It's Guwon,” You say, scratching your head. “He says he's at the cafe down the road and wants to meet up.”

Yoongi placed down his food and stared at you, long and hard. Cat-like eyes narrowed and observing as he leaned back on his chair. You feel his eyes regard your body language before sighing.

“I assume you need help getting out? I'm not as… bold as the younger ones but I think I can help… somehow”

His appearance would surely help tamper down the discomfort that had bloomed with the recent revelations. Yoongi is intimidating as he is caring, having him next to you would ensure you a shorter time spent with the man, as well as prohibit him from pulling another surprise kiss on you.

But why are you so uncomfortable spending time with Guwon anyways?

You didn't have any problems before, even wanted to sleep with him the night prior so why now?

“How’d you know I need help?”

“You looked like your mother just told you to come to another date.”

Immediately, you ironed out the frown you didn't realize had marred your face. 

“I thought you would've been delighted you've finally met your match?”

“I-I am.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, the sound echoing louder in the silence of the room. “Try again. A little more sure this time.”

You sighed and relented, knowing the man wouldn't let you take a step out of the door if you lied to him again.

“Everything just started feeling wrong for some reason.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, eyes widening with surprise. “How so?”

“You know, when Jimin and Taehyung came over last night to make sure I got home safe, they were acting strange towards Guwon.” When he made no move to respond, you continued. “When Guwon suddenly kissed me, Taehyung looked… scary. Jimin too, if you can believe it.”

“I actually do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Yoongi goes silent again, mulling over something as his gaze finally met yours for the first time that day. “For someone so perceptive, you're a bit oblivious.”

“What is it?”

“I won't elaborate, I'll let you realize things on your own.”

You groaned, facepalming because ain't no way Yoongi just added more fuel to the forest fire that is your thoughts. The man doesn’t even look aware of what his words had done, reaching over and innocently sipping on his kombucha once more.

“Back to what you were saying, why do you think it felt wrong to see Guwon?”

With his calm voice and the deafening silence of the room, you found yourself comparing Yoongi, who even has his hands folded over his crossed jean-clad legs, to a therapist and laughed.

“Didn’t know I was due for a therapy session when I dropped off your lunch.”

“Well I did, so deal with it,” He placed down his bottle. “Do you need my help or not?”

“Is breathing important? Obviously yes.”

He nods and stands, but not before saying, “I hope you know this conversation is far from over.”

While his presence had given you more peace of mind, leaving the BigHit building with Yoongi—who had forgone his usual outdoor style of beanies and big prescription glasses matched with a black mask in order to appear more intimidating, claiming the beanie softens his edges, something you playfully rolled your eyes at—still felt like walking into your doom.

The moment he steps out of the building, suddenly everyone's eyes are on him. The cool stoicness surrounding him commanded attention and the people listened without complaint, not when Yoongi looked like every highschool teenager's bad boy wet dreams.

Strolling into the cafe is easier with Yoongi trailing behind you like a guard dog; or in his case, a guard panther.

There's something about having the rapper, who has never shown a hint of romantic attraction to you in all your years being their friend, accompanying you to meet the man you might marry once the discomfort born from conflicting feelings subsides. It makes your heart jittery and your stomach twisting uncomfortably, the nerves from meeting Guwon only adding fuel to the fire.

It felt improper somehow, as if you were breaking an invisible rule you're yet to uncover from the depths of your soul.

The tempting aroma of freshly baked buttery goods and roasted coffee beans greeted you the moment Yoongi had pushed the door open for the both of you. In the controlled volume of mixed chatters from different tables, a calm acoustic instrumental flies through the air and you almost forgot what you came here for. 

It didn't take long for you to find Guwon sitting on the table farthest from the entrance, secluded and away from the wide glass pane windows. When the door had opened with a chime, the man had raised his head from his phone and met your eyes. You try not to linger on how his expression stiffened when he realized you had Yoongi in tow before a smile wipes it away.

“You see him?” Yoongi’s voice grumbled from behind and you nod. Guwon stands, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor catching his attention. “That him?”

“Yeah, I don't think he's happy I brought you with me.”

He chuckled lightly. “Good.”

Guwon met you both halfway, arms opened wide to greet you with a hug and you let him. When you pull away, his hand casually falls to your waist and your skin scrawls . 

Immediately, Yoongi’s eyes drop to look at it but before any hint of emotion breaks onto his face, his cool eyes are already back on your suitor’s face.

“Which one of your kids am I given the pleasure of meeting this time?” Guwon asks before offering his free hand to Yoongi who had taken it with a carefully crafted blank expression and unrelenting stare.

Seeing him remain in eye contact with Guwon surprises you. The man, even after your years of being friends, had never held eye contact for longer than five seconds outside the time he had opened up to you about his struggle with expressing himself.

It made you curious. Why is he provoking him? Is he testing Guwon?

“I'm not one of her kids, I'm actually older than her. Min Yoongi.”

“Yoo Guwon, a pleasure to meet you.”

Even when both their hands had long pulled away from each other, their eyes lingered longer. Challenging on Guwon's part, and taunting on Yoongi's as he stared back, completely unfazed.

Seeing them silently engage in a dick measuring contest, something you didn’t expect Yoongi to ever partake in since he had been loud in his distaste for his own gender, irked you. The tightening grip on your waist didn't help, wanting nothing but to slap it off if it wasn't for your promise to your mother to not fuck this up.

‘If you don't tell them what you're uncomfortable with, then they'll continue on doing it. The other guys out there aren't like us who'd feel guilty if we knew, I fear that they might take advantage of you instead, noona.’ Hobi’s voice echoes in your mind.

Sorry Hoba, I'm trying to make this work. But if this behavior continues, then I'll listen to you.

“I thought you idols are often more busy than the average folk?”

Yoongi sucks air through his teeth before responding. “We were in the middle of a fitting prior. I hope you don't mind me keeping watch, can't have our staff getting distracted by heartthrobs like you.”

Guwon laughed, a little louder than usual.

“She's been telling you guys about me?”

“All the good things, don't worry.” He then turns to you, eyes searching your face for a hint of extreme discomfort before continuing. “I'll go order the others some food.”

Sparing one last nod of his head at the man next to you, Yoongi then turns towards the counter to order. The moment he was out of earshot, dread drops onto your stomach like an anvil and you looked up at the Guwon whose eyes were already trained onto yours, a lazy smile stretched on his lips.

“I assume you’ll be needed back once he’s done?”

“ Yeah, I’m sorry it's just… Wrong timing.”

He waves you off. “Nonsense, it’s my fault for bringing you out of your work. They won’t fine you for this, right?”

“I went with one of my bosses, of course they won’t.”

His eyes studied your face for a moment, searching. For what? You don’t want to know. When he had found whatever it was, his face melts into a softer, more mellow expression and your heart clenches. The outpouring of awe in his eyes felt heavy and thick, it clogs up your throat and weighs your already strained form.

“I missed you.” He whispers with the sweetest of voices. “Did you miss me?”

“I-I do, kept thinking about you...”

The lie weighted like lead on your tongue and burned like acid. Compared to the genuineness practically dripping from his lips, your words fall short in your ears. With the way his softened expression crumpled into a frown, you knew he also noticed the hesitance in your voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. With the tour being so close and more sponsorship offers coming in, it got a bit stressful than usual.”

When his arms reach around your shoulders and pull you flush to his chest, you will yourself not to tense. You were both hugging in the middle of the coffee shop and you could feel the nearby patron’s stare pressing onto your body, judging and unpleasant. Embarrassment burns your cheeks and the desire to push him away grows.

Even Jimin and Taehyung doesn’t dare to get affectionate in public, none of your friends ever did anything more than a hand on your shoulder to lead you to the correct direction or a pat on the back when Jungkook had more sleep and food ingested, and and you just happen to be assigned to him that day.

You wanted nothing more but to tell him to back off but the words got stuck in your throat. 

“Just a tip, she doesn’t like PDA so maybe step away?”

Immediately, Guwon scrambles off of you. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Guwon says, his hand falling from your shoulder and down to your arm. You shivered.

A firm and familiar hand lands on your shoulder and Yoongi tugs you back to stand next to him. There’s a set in jaw as his eyes narrowed down at Guwon, the hand replacing Guwon on your arm is tense and rigid but not enough to hurt. 

You sensed that he had a lot to say once you were out of sight, all of them expressing his distaste for the man you’re set to eventually marry. Even when you were all standing there, you could already imagine the curses and nitpicked details pouring out of his lips.

“We’ll be going back now,” Yoongi says to Guwon, voice tight as if holding back his emotions as he curtly bowed. “Our leader is already demanding us to come back so we’ll have to cut this meeting short. It was nice meeting you.”

Guwon looked incredulous at the turn of events, eyes shuttering before he nodded in understanding and turned to flash a smile at you.

“Message me when you’re home, alright?”

Yoongi didn’t even linger long enough for you to respond, already walking away. By the time you turned to look at him, he was three gaits away from leaving the coffee shop. With a dip of your head, you sprint to follow closely behind the man now pushing through the door. 

You could understand the reason for his irritation, always the most protective out of the bunch and the one with the most to say about men. To see your closest female friend be made uncomfortable by her suitor, a stranger in his eyes, there was no doubt he’d be livid.

But why does he have to walk so fast?! 

You’re not physically built to match his pace, he takes one step and you have to do three. It was infuriating but you couldn’t exactly scream at him to slow down in public, catching the attention of other people would only create more problems than you both could take on

He eventually slows down to a halt in front of the double glass doors of the BigHit building and you were able to finally catch up to him. In the lobby, you both calmly approached the elevator, a complete juxtaposition of how hasty you two were not a moment before. 

But the moment the metal doors of the elevator shuts, isolating you and Yoongi from the rest, he begins.

“I don’t like him.”

It was stupid but you wanted to know what specific trait he had found irksome.

(Deep down, you knew you were finding a reason to stop, to let go of Guwon and stop this stupid charade.)

“He didn’t even notice you were uncomfortable earlier. When you told us that he’s good, I thought he’d be decent, not top grade bare minimum.”

“H-He was actually good, believe it or not.”

“So he's a pretentious prick?”

You sighed. “H-He just—”

“Hyung wouldn't approve.” Yoongi cuts in, his hardened eyes now piercing through yours, almost taunting you to bite back. “Not just him, everyone would. You'd break poor Jiminie’s heart if you continued seeing him once he found out how he acted today.”

You knew he was guilt tripping you and it was working. But you swore Guwon was better than the others, he had treated you with a gentleness and care your friends had shown yet something had changed after that night. 

Was Taehyung's clinginess, their presence in general, been the catalyst?

Had he felt threatened by them showing up? You had established early on that they're your boss and your mother would've mentioned your relationship with the boys in passing at least, so why would he feel threatened by them?

“I know what you're thinking but it doesn't work like that.” His voice, now softer than it had been earlier, pierces through the trance you’ve submerged into. “Even if you had said you’re only friends with them, it's human nature for us to still feel intimidated even if we're just friends.”

“That's dumb.”

He shrugged. “Men are dumb, I'm just slightly better than the rest.”

“That's debatable.” You joked and he raised an eyebrow.

“ Your taste is questionable.” He shot back and you hit his arm in response, making him laugh but it stopped as fast as it came. “I'm serious, hyung won't like it if you continue meeting Guwon.”

“I know, I can already hear him and we're not even there yet.”

“Don’t be dumb, if you want a husband so bad, tell aunt to wait for me to renew our contract next year and I'll marry you.” 

He meant it as a joke, you knew that, but you couldn't stop the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering wildly. You're suddenly reminded of a scene from years ago, his alcohol-flushed cheeks pulled taut by the dopey smile stretching his lips wide and his slurred voice admitting something you—until today—have no recollection of what had been uttered.

You both have been battered to the nines, drunken out of your minds and stumbling over the smallest rocks on the street by the time Seokjin and Namjoon had found you halfway home. It was a miracle you both got off unscathed with how giggly and dumbed down you were.

“Bold of you to assume I'd say yes.”

“I got wealth, I got a good mug on me, what else would you need?”

“Seokjin also got those.”

He pondered long and hard, sucking air through his teeth before he turned to you again with a playful glint in his eyes.

“You know what they say about my tongue right?”

He couldn’t say he didn’t expect the punch in the arm that followed soon after.

When the elevator door opens and you both go straight for the dance studio, the conversation about Guwon is put on pause and you dread the moment Seokjin hears what had transpired in the coffee shop when suddenly, Yoongi stills and hissed out a curse.

“ Shit , I forgot Jungkook’s muffins.”

[goblinontour]

There’s Still A Trace

he’s so predictable

warnings: smut, angst, masturbation (m receiving), cheating

word count: 3.2k

He stared at his phone for what felt like an eternity, the glow of your message illuminating the otherwise dark room. He had no reason to call you. Not one that made sense, at least. She was right there, tucked under the sheets beside him, her body curled into the mattress. He could feel the warmth of her near him, her familiar scent lingering in the air. But that wasn’t enough, hadn’t been for a while. It was you, always you, occupying the space in his mind, like a fire he couldn’t put out.

His thumb hovered over your name, hesitating. His pulse quickened in that familiar way it always did before he reached out, before he allowed himself to give in to this need, this pull. He didn’t know why he felt so entitled, why it felt like he had a right to you, even now, even when she was sleeping soundly right next to him. His chest tightened as he finally tapped your name, the ringing on the other end dragging out, each second louder than the last, until-

“Alex?” Your voice was soft, uncertain. He could almost see the way your lips parted when you said his name, the slight confusion etched in your features. It had been a while since you’d spoken, but whatever this was never really faded.

He whispered, “Hey.” The sound was barely there, his voice low and rough, and thick with exhaustion and something deeper, something that tugged at him in a way he couldn’t ignore. His accent slurred, as it often did when he was tired, making the words harder to decipher, but you knew him. You always did.

You paused on the other end, his quiet greeting catching you off guard. The silence lingered for a beat. “Alex, why are you calling?” you finally asked. 

He shifted under the covers, his body instinctively leaning away from her as though even in sleep, she could feel the weight of his betrayal. “I don’t know.” he admitted, eyes closing for a moment as he let out a slow breath. “I just...I needed to hear your voice.”

His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, it was like nothing else existed but the sound of your breathing and the faint rustle of the sheets as he adjusted himself, heart pounding against his ribs.

“How are you?” he asked. He didn’t need to know, not really, but he wanted the connection, the intimacy of it. It was a question he used to ask all the time, a habit formed from late nights spent talking with you, your voices low, as though the night itself was a conspirator in your secret.

“I’m fine.” you said quietly, the breathlessness in your voice making his stomach twist. “You?”

He closed his eyes again, head resting against the pillow as he exhaled slowly. “I miss you.” he whispered. The admission felt dangerous, like crossing a line he couldn’t come back from. His fingers, as if drawn by the words themselves, moved down his body, brushing over the thin fabric of his boxers. The faintest touch made him inhale sharply. He knew this was wrong but the thought of you, just the sound of your voice, was enough to stir something primal in him.

“Alex…” Your voice wavered, but you didn’t tell him to stop. You never did. Never even tried. 

His hand slid lower, fingers wrapping around his cock through the fabric, the warmth of his palm seeping through to the other side. He moved slowly at first, as if testing the waters, feeling out the edges of his own desire before diving inside. His hips shifted under the covers, the sensation of his hand stroking himself making him bite down on his lip to stay quiet. She was still there, after all.

“Is she home?” you asked, pulling him back to the present, your voice tinged with a question you already knew the answer to.

He glanced to his left, his eyes landing on her peaceful form, the way her hair was splayed out across the pillow, her back turned to him. Unaware. “Yeah.” he murmured. 

“And she’s asleep?” you pressed, your voice softer now, more curious than before.

His grip tightened around himself beneath the sheets, a soft groan escaping his throat as he moved his hand with a little more purpose. “Yeah, she’s asleep.” he managed, eyes closing again as he focused on the rhythm of his strokes, the way his body responded to just the thought of you.

You were silent for a moment, and he could almost feel the weight of your questions, the way you were piecing this scene together in your mind. “Are you in bed?” you asked, though you weren’t sure if you wanted the answer.

He exhaled shakily, his hand moving faster now, the friction sending a wave of pleasure through his body that made him clench his jaw. “Yeah.” he whispered, glancing at her again, his heart racing. His hips shifted slightly, the movement slow as he continued stroking himself, his breathing becoming heavier.

“So...you’re in bed, next to her?” Your voice was a quiet, disbelieving murmur, the words hanging in the air like a challenge, like something you both knew you shouldn’t be doing but couldn’t stop.

“Yeah…” he said again, the word drawn out. He could feel himself getting harder, the tension in his body rising with every stroke, every whisper from you on the other end of the line. His thumb brushed over the head of his cock, the sensation pulling a low groan from his throat that he quickly stifled.

There was silence. Neither of you spoke. His hand tightened around himself, his strokes becoming faster, more insistent, as though he could pull you closer with each movement.

“She can’t hear…” he whispered suddenly, his voice ragged, barely holding it together. His eyes flicked to her again, making sure she was still asleep, still oblivious to what was happening just inches away from her. 

On the other end of the line, you exhaled softly, the sound making him bite down on his lip to keep from making a sound. You couldn’t see him, but he knew you could hear it. The way his breath hitched, the quiet urgency in his voice. His movements were erratic now, each stroke bringing him closer to a release that felt as inevitable as it was forbidden. 

And he didn’t care. Not in that moment. Because all he wanted was you.

The line crackled. You could hear his breathing, uneven and slightly ragged, and your own heart began to race, matching the rhythm of his shallow inhales. You knew what was happening on his end, even if he didn’t say it. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, you could almost feel it, the weight of his need pressing against the quiet.

There was a faint rustling, just audible enough to make you wonder. The soft sound of fabric shifting, the sheets moving against skin. You swallowed hard, knowing the truth but wanting to hear him say it.

“Alex...” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, cautious but laced with a curiosity that burned hotter with each second. “Are you...touching yourself?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. You could hear his breathing grow heavier, the silence between you thickening. He shifted again under the covers, his hand still working beneath the fabric, the sensation making his head spin. His grip tightened instinctively at your question, his hips giving a small, involuntary thrust in response.

“How could I do such a thing?” he rasped, his voice low and hoarse, a weak attempt at denying what you both already knew. But the way he said it gave him away. His words were a thin veil, one that neither of you believed for a second.

He didn’t want to admit it. To himself or to you. But you both knew exactly what was happening. There was no point in trying to hide it. His breathing told you everything his words didn’t, the slight hitch in his throat every time his hand moved, the soft rustling of sheets that he couldn’t conceal. 

“You don’t have to lie.” you said softly, the understanding between you so palpable, it didn’t need to be spelled out. You could practically feel him on the other end of the line, picture him under those sheets, touching himself to the sound of your voice.

In between breaths, he let out a soft, shaky laugh, almost as if he were trying to deflect, to lighten the tension. But you could hear it in his voice, the way it faltered. “You know…” he started, his voice low and breathy, pausing as if to gather himself. “We had sex earlier…”

Your stomach tightened at his words, the way he said it cutting through the air like a knife. You said nothing, but your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I had sex with her.” he continued, his voice rough, as though each word was being pulled from him against his will. He paused again, his breathing heavy, and you could feel the strain in his voice, the way he struggled to keep control. “I had her on her knees…”

“Alex-” you whispered, not wanting to hear any more. Not wanting to picture it. But he didn’t let you finish. His words tumbled out, raw and urgent, like a confession he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“I had her on her knees.” he repeated, firmer this time, as though saying it again made it more real, more tangible. His hand tightened around himself beneath the sheets, his strokes growing erratic, the memory of earlier blending with the reality of now. “So I couldn’t see her face…I pretended it was you.”

The admission was raw, brutal in its honesty. He’d buried himself in her body, but his mind, his heart, had been with you the whole time.

“I kept thinking about you.” he murmured, each word dragging out between heavy breaths. “I couldn’t stop. I needed it to be you.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. His hand moved faster, the heat in his body building, his skin slick with sweat as he gave in completely to the fantasy of you. His hips shifted beneath the sheets, the pleasure rising, overwhelming, as he stroked himself harder, chasing the release he could feel creeping closer with every passing second.

“I pretended it was you…” he repeated, voice ragged and strained as he neared the edge. His words came out in broken fragments, punctuated by pauses where he tried to steady his breathing, tried to calm the frantic pounding of his heart. “I thought about you…the whole time.”

You exhaled shakily. You wanted to say something, anything, but the moment was too charged, too fragile, and all you could do was listen, heart racing in your chest.

His body trembled with the effort to stay quiet, to not wake her as she slept beside him. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” he breathed, voice barely audible now, lost in the sound of his own heavy breathing. “It’s always you.”

It was too much now, too real. 

Alex was right on the edge, his body tightening with every stroke of his hand. His chest rose and fell with shallow, ragged breaths, trying and failing to keep it quiet. His grip tightened around his cock, his thumb swiping over the head with every upward stroke, the friction unbearable. The fabric of his boxers was damp now, clinging to his skin as his hand worked faster, faster, faster, unable to stop. He was too far gone. 

“Fuck-” he hissed, the word spilling from his lips before he could catch it. It came out louder than he intended, sharper, the sound cutting through the quiet room like a crack in the night. He felt the surge, the heat coiling in his gut, his hips giving a hard, involuntary thrust as his body seized up.

His hand squeezed tighter, the sensation cresting into something unbearable, and with a strangled moan, he came, hot and fast. His cock twitched under his fingers as the cum spurted thick and warm against his palm, soaking into the fabric of his boxers. His breath caught in his throat, a low groan slipping past his lips as his hips bucked helplessly, riding out the wave of pleasure.

The wet heat of it pooled around his hand, spreading against his skin, sticky, the fabric clinging to him in a mess of his own making. His strokes slowed, his grip loosening as the last few pulses of his release spilled out, leaving him trembling and breathless under the covers. His hand stilled completely, the weight of what just happened sinking in, heavy and inescapable.

You called his name softly, your voice still on the other end of the line, barely cutting through the haze in his mind. But he didn’t answer. He couldn’t. It was as if, the moment his orgasm faded, the world came crashing back down on him, reality hitting him like a cold wave of guilt and confusion. The pleasure was already fading, replaced by the gnawing sense that he’d gone too far. Much too far.

For a brief moment, he just lay there, frozen, the phone still pressed to his ear but his mind somewhere else entirely. The silence on your end was deafening, and the soft rustling of the sheets beside him felt suddenly too loud, too real.

She stirred.

His heart stopped. 

He turned his head just in time to see her shift under the covers, her body turning toward him, her face still half-buried in the pillow. His breath caught in his throat, panic flooding his chest as he stared at her, eyes wide, pulse pounding in his ears. She hadn’t heard him…had she? No, no way.

The phone was still in his hand, his fingers gripping it tightly. The sticky mess in his boxers felt suffocating. And for a moment, he didn’t know what to do first. Should he end the call? Should he move? Should he clean himself up? The thought of her waking up fully and seeing him like this, soiled, guilty, caught in the act…no.

He glanced down at his hand, still slick with cum, his skin flushed. The sheets were damp. He felt trapped, caught in this moment where nothing made sense anymore, where desire and guilt collided in a chaotic swirl that left him breathless and shaken.

You said his name again, softer this time, and it cut through the panic, grounding him just enough to snap him out of his daze. But still, he didn’t answer. He couldn’t find the words, couldn’t even begin to explain what had just happened or why he felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him. His mind raced, his body still trembling, as he lay there, paralyzed between two worlds. Between you and her. Between the fantasy he’d just indulged in and the reality he was trapped in now.

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, until finally, she settled back into sleep, her breathing slow and even again. But the relief that washed over him was short-lived, because the truth of what had just happened lingered, heavy and undeniable.

His breath hitched as he swallowed hard, the words you’d said still lingering in his ears. But he couldn’t answer. He couldn’t find it in himself to respond, not now, not after what had just happened. 

Without another word, without a goodbye, he ended the call. His thumb hovered over the screen for only a second before he tapped it. The line went dead, your voice gone, and in the silence that followed, the reality of what he’d just done hit him like a punch to the gut.

He just sat there, frozen, his chest heaving with deep, shaky breaths. His mind was a mess. The pleasure he’d felt only moments ago had drained from him, leaving nothing but an aching emptiness in its wake.

With a low, frustrated exhale, he threw the covers off and sat up, his bare feet hitting the cold floor with a dull thud. His heart raced as he glanced to his left, where she still lay, still unaware. But he couldn’t stay there, couldn’t bear the thought of lying beside her any longer.

He stood up suddenly, the motion too fast, too sharp, but he didn’t care. The sheets rustled, the floor creaked beneath his weight, and he stumbled out of the bed, his legs unsteady beneath him. The sticky fabric of his boxers clung to his skin as he moved, making his stomach twist with disgust.

Just as he reached the bathroom door, his hand on the handle, he heard her stir behind him. His body went rigid, every muscle tensing as her soft voice broke the quiet.

“Alex?” she murmured sleepily, her voice groggy and confused, like she’d just surfaced from a dream. “Where are you going?”

The sound of her voice made his stomach churn. She was waking up. She was starting to notice. His pulse raced, panic flaring in his chest, but he couldn’t look back. 

“I’ll be right back.” he muttered quickly, his voice strained, barely audible as he pushed open the bathroom door. He didn’t wait for her to respond. He couldn’t. 

He stepped inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click, but it felt like a slam in the quiet of the night. His hands were shaking as he flicked on the light, the harsh fluorescent glow blinding him for a moment as he blinked against it. The brightness only made everything feel more exposed, more raw.

He stared at himself in the mirror, his reflection looking back at him with wide, guilt-ridden eyes. His hair was a mess, his face flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. 

The shame crept up on him, slow and suffocating, until it wrapped around his chest like a vice. He gripped the edge of the sink, his knuckles white as he tried to steady himself, but the guilt was too much. He could still feel it. Your voice in his ear, the sound of your breath on the other end of the line. He could still feel the pleasure that had ripped through him just moments ago, the way he’d lost himself in the fantasy of you, while she had been lying just inches away, asleep and oblivious.

His stomach twisted violently, and he felt the bile rising in his throat. How had he let it go this far? How had he let himself slip so deeply into this? He wanted to tear the fabric from his skin, scrub away the guilt, the shame, the mess he’d made of himself, of everything.

He turned on the tap, the sound of running water filling the small room, drowning out the thoughts screaming in his mind. He splashed cold water on his face, the shock of it jolting him for a moment, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t erase anything. It didn’t make him feel any cleaner.

She called his name again from the bedroom, her voice still soft, still laced with confusion, but there was a hint of concern now, a slight edge to her tone. “Alex? Are you okay?”

But he couldn’t answer. He couldn’t face her. Not yet. Not like this.

a/n: wrote this cause i was feeling off the other day so he has to suffer as well ig

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[sugarushwriting]

dedicated to @softkisshyunjin 🩷🫶🏽 thank u for the idea!! and omg thank u for having my notifs on.

kim seungmin

a man who’ve you noticed, but never even thought of in that way

until tonight

“say please.”

seungmin is not an idol in this drabble, but instead just a popular/important/rich figure somewhat (due to the event)

not proof read ☺️

wrote this like 2 times only to erase (he was gonna be a mob boss) then i was like naaah, then wrote this drabble in an hour

mhm hehe minors dni (please don’t)

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

oh my. so many words, curses, thoughts, desires went through your head when you saw kim seungmin.

i mean as usual, he was a handsome guy, but today, no, today he just looked different. hit different, if you dare to say.

his short black hair. the tailored silk black suit, with the black shoes. silver necklace around his neck.

you wish that necklace was hanging above you.

the silver rings around his fingers.

imagine the marks they would leave on your flesh.

the way they would feel if seungmin was to run his fingers across your body. if his fingers were to plunge deep—

“you good?” you heard your friend say from beside you.

“huh?”

“were you even listening to me for the past 3 minutes?”

nope. “of course i was.” you lied to your friend. you were so thankful she brought you to this elite event that only the most important and powerful people could attend.

kim seungmin was one of them. you’ve known him since college, as you two were academic rivals in the debate club.

and he was just too good at it, it pissed you off. so much so you could never even imagine yourself looking at seungmin in anything but disgust.

it’s not like you found him ugly—no, quite the opposite in fact. he was cute, with his long fluffy hair—until today.

it was short. and it made his sharp features of his face stand out even more.

you inhaled a deep breath as your eyes raked over his silk suit. you sighed in defeat to yourself.

lately, you’ve been noticing how handsome he was. his shoulders, his lanky figure, the long fingers.

every. little. thing.

now that you two were graduated, and now completing internships at the same law firm, you had to see him almost everyday in a suit.

and he had to see you almost everyday in a dress or skirt—when you weren’t wearing pants.

seungmin preferred the skirts and dresses.

and he was happy you was wearing a short dress tonight so he could ogle your legs.

you don’t even know if you still considered him a rival, but you never thought you want to have seungmin take you to bed.

to have you begging on your knees for him to please you. you shook your head slightly trying to rid of your thoughts.

you were so screwed. the night was just beginning, and you were sure this even would last for the next four to five hours.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

as time went on you found yourself stealing glances at seungmin when he wasn’t looking. or so you thought, but he caught you a few times.

little did you know, he was doing the same to you. wondering when you got so fucking hot. wondering when his mind went to imagining about debating you about world politics to imagining bending you over in a bed on all fours.

he needed some air and quick.

he walked through the event up some stairs pass the ballroom. he found a hidden area, with a small balcony over looking the courtyard.

he had to get himself together. just because you were stealing looks doesn’t mean anything, right?

he was always a menance because truthfully he found you cute and stupidly hot and attractive. especially when you argued and got passionate about said argument.

many times he thought about wanting to start a nasty argument with you just to tell you to shut up for you to bark back, “make me.”

he heard footsteps coming up the steps and almost didn’t hide until he heard it was your voice. he hid in the corner, in the shadows.

luckily for him, you were too busy talking to yourself.

“get over yourself! you can’t be thinking about him like that! not here! kim seungmin of all people? are you out of your mind?”

you spoke to yourself, hands going through your hair, occasionally smacking your forehead.

“kim seungmin, you cannot imagine him that way! there is no way you can imagine him naked! stop!”

you sighed and huffed, walking to the balcony, not even phased that the door was slightly opened, and not even aware of seungmin just feet away.

seungmin was holding in his laughter. even when you argued with yourself, you made the same hand gestures and facial expressions. it wasn’t until your next sentence that he revealed his hiding spot.

“he probably couldn’t even please me! yep that’s right! kim seungmin probably can’t even make me come!”

“to the hell i can’t! who told you that?”

you literally shrieked at the voice. you could be so unaware sometimes.

“how long have you been here!”

“long enough to hear your entire monologue including you making a bold statement that i can’t make you come.” seungmin said a bit annoyed.

you flustered, your face turning hot. “i—uh.” you couldn’t even make an excuse. you were caught. “why are you spying on me in the first place!”

“i wasn’t spying,” seungmin scoffs, “i was here first. i hid when i heard someone coming up the stairs just in case i wasn’t actually allowed to be up here.” he went on, the narrowed his eyes at you, “now, don’t change the subject. why did you say i couldn’t make you come?”

you swallowed. seungmin looked so offended at that statement and so fucking hot. you were speechless and shrugged.

enough was enough, seungmin thought. he saw your eyes lingering on him throughout the night, and often at your internship. he saw the lustfulness behind those eyes. he wasn’t dumb. you wanted him.

and he wanted you.

“get on your knees.”

“excuse you?”

“are you deaf or just slow? get. on. your. knees. brat.” seungmin remarked.

you huffed and mumbled, “i am not a brat.”

“fine. get on your knees, pup.”

you whimpered. seungmin’s voice was different. laced with something more dominant, more than his usual teasing or menacing side.

you obeyed and slid down to your knees, your dress riding up.

seungmin smirked. his hand when to cradle your face, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip.

“don’t know if i like you more like this, all nice and submissive, or if i prefer you bratty and defensive.”

“i’m not a brat!”

“mhm, definitely when you are bratty.” seungmin smiled, and slipped his thumb past your lips. “you don’t understand how much your mouth turns me on. the amount of times when we debated, i just wanted to shut you up.”

your tongue swirled his thumb, and he sighed in bliss. “so perfect. just for me.”

“seungmin you either hurry up or im walking away.” you threatened.

“i dare you to try.” he challenged.

of course stubborn you got off your knees and went to walk past seungmin, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you around so quickly, all you saw was a blur before he pulled your body to his.

he leaned down to your ear, “big mistake.”

that threat, the venom laced from his throat, just made you drip even more with wetness. it added on to what you were trying to calm down from the night.

you gulped when seungmin pushed you against the wall, your face and front end smushed. seungmin melted his front side to your back.

you felt the tent in his pants. you purposely pushed your ass to him, he hissed and pushed your hips away from him. he deeply groaned with a laugh that sent chills through your bones.

“playing with fire sweetheart.”

using his foot, he spread your legs, and pushed your dress to bunch it against your waist. your backside felt cold when he removed himself, only for a loud groan to leave your lips.

because seungmin smacked you. he smacked your ass so hard you were sure, that a handprint and ring marks would be left tomorrow, and for the next week.

and that made your cunt crave even more.

“do you like that, sweetheart?”

you couldn’t even lie so you nodded your head.

seungmin chuckled. he rubbed your ass to soothe the sting. “good to know you like playing dirty.”

another smack was landed on the other cheek and you bit your lip to keep quiet. seungmin didn’t like that.

he scolded, “i want to hear you.”

you stuttered, “but—but the people?”

“i don’t give a damn about them. i am more than happy to let them know how good i make you feel and how hard i make you come.”

he hasn’t even done those things yet, but yet his words sounded like a promise.

another two smacks came down to each cheek, causing you to groan out loud.

“more like it.”

seungmins fingers traced the lace of your underwear, before he slowly pulled it down your legs, signaling for you to lift your feet so he could rid them completely.

he slid them in his back pocket.

your forehead rested against the wall, waiting for his next move. you wasn’t expecting his fingers to immediately prod at your entrance.

“fuck so tight, sweetheart.” he hummed. “gonna stretch you out.”

and that he did. because seungmin used three fingers as he prepped you. rutting his fingers in and out at a fast pace, not even giving you mercy.

he had one thing to prove and he was close to it.

a kiss landed on the back of your shoulder, then a slight nibble, then he used his teeth. that just made it more pleasurable.

moans were slipping out your lips, at a pace that couldn’t keep up with how could he was making you feel.

the side of your face pushed against the wall, seungmin roughly pulled down the straps of your dress to under your breast, his free hand wrapping around your figure to grab one harshly in his hand, then twisted that nipped.

you moaned his name in pleasure, your hands against the wall to keep you upward.

then you felt it. the knot forming in your lower stomach. you bit your lip, as your moans became a pitch higher and seungmin knew you were close.

his fingers picked the pace up, his thumb tracing circles on your clit.

“oh my, seungmin im so close!” you grumbled, your knees getting weak.

then seungmin pulled his fingers out.

son of a bitch!

you turned around quickly, needing to rest your backside on the wall as your knees and thighs were losing strength.

you don’t care if he saw your bare breasts or cunt right now. you were seeing, red.

“you son of a bitch seungmin!”

“i thought you said i couldn’t make you come? im just doing what you said.” he smirked proudly.

you whined, you don’t care, you just need that orgasm. and you need it from the man in front of you!

“seungmin!”

“beg for it.”

“huh?”

“say please, sweetheart.”

“seungmin,” you began to argue rolling your eyes.

“say. please.” seungmin gritted. “or i walk out right now.”

you didn’t want to believe him, but you know he would. he would leave you dripping and left without your orgasm. you’ll cringe at yourself later.

“please seungmin!”

“please what?”

“please make me come! i know you can! i know you can make me feel good, just please!” you begged, your head hitting the wall behind you.

you were so frustrated, you didn’t realize how fast seungmin was when he pulled his dick out from his pants.

“all you had to say, sweetheart.” he mumbled in your ear, his breath sending more chills down your spine.

he kissed and teased your earlobe, then kissed below it, before he plunged his dick into you.

“fuck you seungmin!” you yelled out, the intrusiveness of his dick stretching you out more than you were used to.

“that you are.” he laughed, kissed your lips, then picked your legs up so they were wrapped around his waist.

“hold on to me.” he ordered and you did so, just as he began rocking his hips back and forth, at a bruising speed, trying to get both of you to chase your orgasms quickly before you two got caught.

he didn’t care if you both were heard, but the thought of another man walking in seeing you drool over him drilling into you, made him angry.

possessive.

jealous.

“ah seugnmin,” you moaned out, unsure of how to finish the sentence. he was making you speechless, and for once in your life, it was due to seugnmin doing something good to you.

seungmin groaned and gloated that his dick made you so speechless. he had you. he had you just where he wanted, now.

your hand went to the back of his next, gripping tight, as your other hand remained on his shoulder.

“seungmin, im close, please, please don’t stop.” you begged.

“i won’t sweetheart, i promise.” he stopped just for a second to kiss you deeply before he continued his ruthless thrusts.

your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping your bare ass, he was able to sneak one hand in between where your bodies connected and rubbed your clit.

you tucked your head into his cheek, breathing, groaning, moaning, crying profanities as you felt another knot forming, and seungmin felt your walls closing in around him.

“that’s it, come around me.” then he demanded you to do so, “come around me now.”

he bit your earlobe sending you over the edge, your coming seeping out of you, onto seungmins cock, only for him to thrust two more times and his own come met yours inside you.

“fuck.” seungmin was out of breath as he kept your body up by pushing you against the wall, his attached to yours. his nose was buried in your neck as you felt his hot breath.

both of your chests was heaving so hard.

seungmin then laughed. “you owe me an apology. hurting my feelings saying i couldn’t make you come.” he whispered into your neck.

you chuckled as well. “im sorry seungmin. you proved me wrong.”

seungmin’s head lifted from your neck with a smile,

“can you say that one more time? i want to record it to make it my new alarm.”

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

inspired by:

thank you tasaki

[rainforestakiie]

Priest Adam x Devil/King of Hell Lucifer part 04

The Imp

hi everyone! i am back with the fourth instalment of @inubaki’s request! i think there might be one last part after this? maybe two! it is all leading up to something~ can't wait for everyone to read it!

‘A Priest observing that one of fathers in his charge seems to be heavily distracted by something no one else can see. Father Adam had come to them young, an unwanted fourth child to a Nobel family hoping to gain the church’s favor. Life is hard for Adam whim continues to wait for his family to return for him, growing into despair until one day he suddenly improves. He claims he’s spoken to an angel. And, to his credit, does give information far beyond what any child should know. But the older Adam gets, the more distracted he becomes. More happy, but conflicted. Till one day he disappears.'

The Imp (Priest Adam x Devil/King of Hell Lucifer) = Part 01. Part 02. Part 03. Part 04.

By the time Adam reached his sixteenth birthday, the nuns of the church began to act... strangely. Their behaviour shifted in subtle but unsettling ways, like shadows moving just out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t the birthday celebration that unnerved him, there was no fanfare, no candles or songs, but the way they seemed to watch him, their eyes filled with something he couldn't quite decipher.

Sister Sera, normally soft-spoken and kind, now looked at him with a gaze that sent a chill creeping down his spine. She lingered too long in doorways, her once-gentle hands trembling ever so slightly as she clasped her rosary beads. Sister Uriel, the one who always offered a warm smile, now barely looked at him, her face pale and gaunt as if she’d seen something dreadful that she refused to speak of.

Their whispers grew louder, too. Hushed conversations behind thick wooden doors would fall to silence the moment Adam drew near, only to start up again in a frantic murmur once he passed. He began to feel as though he was an intruder in the place, he had called home for as long as he could remember.

At night, it was worse. The air in the church grew thick, almost suffocating. His room, usually a sanctuary of peace, felt heavy with an unseen presence. The crucifix above his bed seemed to cast strange, jagged shadows across the walls, distorting and shifting in ways that made his heart pound. Sometimes, just on the edge of sleep, he swore he heard something—a faint scratching from behind the walls, as if something was trying to get in.

He couldn't understand why turning sixteen had such a weight to it. Why did the nuns look at him with a mix of fear and pity, as though he were marked for something unspeakable? Their prayers became louder, more desperate, the candles in the chapel flickering wildly as if a wind was passing through, but the windows were sealed tight.

It was as though they were waiting. Waiting for something that only they knew was coming. Something tied to him—something that grew closer with every passing day.

The harsh whispers of the other orphans slithered through the corridors like poison-laced smoke, curling around Adam’s ears and tightening in his chest. He kept his head low, his eyes fixed on the worn stone floor as he shuffled past the children who watched him with narrowed eyes. Every whisper felt like a dagger, sharp and malicious, stabbing deeper into his already fragile mind. Adam couldn’t understand why his sixteenth birthday seemed to isolate him even more, as if a silent decision had been made that he no longer belonged—if he ever had.

He had always kept to himself, never one for loud conversations or playful scuffles in the courtyard. But now, it felt different. It felt... deliberate. The church, once a place of quiet refuge, had become suffocating. The orphans, who had once merely ignored him, now seemed to actively avoid him, or worse, blame him. For what, Adam didn’t know.

As he turned a corner into one of the dimly lit hallways, the faint sound of sobbing reached his ears. Adam paused, glancing down the corridor to see a young girl, no older than eight, kneeling beside the large glass tank in the corner. Her small shoulders shook with each quiet sob.

Adam hesitated, his brow furrowing as he slowly approached. His gaze shifted from the girl to the tank—and he froze. The water, usually clear and alive with bright, darting fish, was now still. Too still. Every fish floated lifelessly, their bodies eerily suspended in the water, scales reflecting the dim light in dull patterns. All of them were dead.

A sick feeling churned in Adam's stomach. He wanted to comfort the girl, tell her everything would be alright, even though he wasn’t sure it would. He took a tentative step forward, but before he could reach her, Eveline shoved him hard. He stumbled back, his hands bracing against the cold stone wall to keep from falling.

She didn’t speak—she didn’t need to. The glare she gave him said more than words could. Her dark eyes burned with accusation, with loathing. Adam swallowed, feeling his face grow hot under her gaze. He could feel the eyes of the other girls now, all of them staring at him with the same hostile look. They didn’t say it out loud, but he could hear it in their silence—they blamed him for the fish, for everything.

His throat tightened. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out. Instead, he turned and hurried away, his steps quick and uneven. The whispers behind him grew louder, harsher.

"Omen," they hissed. "Bad luck."

Adam's breath grew shallow as the words circled around him like vultures, picking at his mind.

Everything goes wrong when Adam’s around.

The words echoed louder, bouncing off the high walls of the church in his head. He hadn’t done anything—he didn’t understand why they hated him so much. His legs weakened, and he stumbled down by the towering grandfather clock at the end of the corridor, his hands trembling as he curled into himself. His vision blurred, and his chest ached as he gasped for air, panic rising like a storm inside him.

The whispers continued. He could hear them—he could feel them.

He’s cursed.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him, and Adam jerked his head up, wide-eyed, heart pounding in his throat. But it wasn’t one of the bullies. It was Steve.

Steve knelt down next to him; his face etched with concern.

"Hey, it’s alright," he murmured, his voice gentle but firm. "Don’t listen to them, Adam. They’re just being cruel."

Adam tried to steady his breathing, but the whispers lingered, faint and insidious in the back of his mind. He flinched as Eveline’s mocking voice floated down the hallway, louder than the rest.

"Cursed," she spat. "Bad luck, that’s what you are."

Steve’s expression hardened. "I swear, if she doesn’t stop, I’ll—"

He started to stand, but Adam grabbed his hand, shaking his head desperately, his wide eyes begging him not to go.

Steve sighed, his anger melting into a soft understanding.

"Okay, okay, I won’t go," he said, giving Adam’s hand a gentle squeeze. "But if I hear her say one more thing, I’m not biting my tongue."

Adam managed a small nod, still sniffling as he tried to calm himself down. The trembling in his hands slowly lessened, and Steve offered him a warm smile, his eyes twinkling as he said, “How about we head back to our room? I’ll tell you one of my terrible jokes on the way.”

Despite everything, Adam couldn’t help but smile. Steve always knew how to make things feel less... heavy.

With Steve’s help, Adam stood, and together they made their way towards their shared room. Steve kept his promise, launching into a stream of ridiculous dad jokes, each one worse than the last, until Adam found himself laughing softly despite the lingering dread that clung to him.

But as they reached the top of the staircase, approaching the landing where their room was, both stopped. A shadow, faint but unmistakable, slithered across the wall and disappeared into their room.

Steve's arm shot out protectively, stopping Adam from stepping forward. His face darkened with suspicion as he glared at the door. "If this is another one of their stupid pranks..."

His voice trailed off into a low growl, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "I swear, if they’ve messed with your stuff again, I’m telling Sister Sera this time."

Adam's stomach knotted as Steve marched toward the door, his voice rising. "Alright, we know you’re in there! Come out now, or—"

Steve’s voice faltered as he reached the doorway. His face twisted in disbelief; eyes wide.

Adam’s heart raced, curiosity mingling with fear. He hesitated, then, with trembling steps, he peeked around Steve, expecting to find their room ransacked, their belongings scattered in the usual cruel mess.

Inside the room, Adam expected chaos. The memory of last month's prank—the younger kids ransacking his things, throwing his belongings around like a cruel game—lingered in his mind. But this time, there was no mess. No scattered books, no overturned chair. The room was, at first glance, eerily neat... mostly clean. But it didn’t take long for Adam and Steve to notice something strange.

Black rose petals. Crispy, brittle, and dry as if scorched by some unseen fire. They were scattered across the floor in a deliberate path, leading from the doorway straight to Adam's bed. Adam’s pulse quickened. The dark petals felt out of place, sinister. His gaze followed the trail, and his heart skipped when he saw it—on his bed, nestled like a gift wrapped in death, was a large, beautiful bouquet of black roses. They were impossibly dark, each petal a velvety black, absorbing the dim light from the window.

Coiled around the base of the bouquet, a stark white snake lay perfectly still, its smooth body draped like a ribbon. Its eyes were half-lidded, tongue flickering lazily in and out. For a moment, Adam stood frozen, his mouth dry. His instincts screamed to back away, to run. The image of the snake contrasted sharply with the stillness of the room, like a silent predator waiting to strike.

But something strange urged him closer.

Steve stood behind him, staring in confusion. “Who the hell leaves a snake as a birthday present?” he muttered. “That’s... weird.”

Adam swallowed hard; his throat tight as he edged toward the bed. The snake remained still, almost docile. With shaky hands, he reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed the snake’s cool, smooth scales. To his surprise, the serpent didn’t react violently. Instead, it slithered lazily across his lap, its body coiling and uncoiling with soft, slow movements. The snake’s hissing was gentle, barely audible, as though it was whispering something only Adam could hear.

Adam blinked, finding himself strangely... calm. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand running over the bouquet of black roses. The scent that rose from them was intoxicating—a rich, sweet fragrance that flooded his senses. For a moment, all the tension drained from his body. He sighed, holding the roses close to his chest, as if the flowers offered him some unspoken comfort.

But Adam has no idea. He had no family…

Steve raised an eyebrow, scratching his head. “Yeah, well, it’s... odd. I mean, black roses? A snake?”

His gaze drifted down to the petals on the floor. His eyes narrowed, and he knelt down, running his hand over the path of blackened petals.

 “Am I tripping, or do these look like they’re arranged in a pentagram?”

Adam glanced at the floor; his curiosity piqued. But when he looked, the pattern didn’t immediately make sense to him. It was just petals, scattered in strange directions. He shrugged; the weight of the flowers still pressed close to his chest.

Steve stood up, shaking his head. "Maybe it's nothing."

With a huff, Steve turned his attention to his own bed, muttering about pranks and younger kids. He pulled the quilt back, fully expecting to collapse into the familiar comfort of his bedding. But instead, what he found turned his face pale, his mouth twisting into a grimace of disgust.

From beneath the quilt spilled writhing maggots, pale and slimy, squirming over thick patches of moist, black dirt. Worms writhed between the sheets, tangling together in a grotesque, pulsating mass. The stench hit them next—a damp, earthy smell, pungent with rot.

Steve’s horrified gasp echoed through the room, loud and guttural. He staggered back, his voice shaking with fury.

 "What the—! Adam, what the hell is this?!" His voice cracked as he cursed, his face twisted with rage and disgust. "I’m gonna kill those brats! This isn’t funny! This is sick!"

Adam’s heart pounded in his chest, cold fear washing over him as he stared at the infested bed. His breath came in short gasps, his fingers clenching tighter around the roses. Steve stormed toward the door, throwing it open with a fury Adam had never seen in him before.

“I swear to God, if I find out who did this, I’m telling Sister Sera right now!” Steve’s voice echoed down the hallway as he disappeared, his footsteps heavy with anger.

Adam sat frozen on the edge of his bed; his wide green eyes glued to the squirming mess that had been Steve’s bedding. His grip on the bouquet tightened, his thoughts racing. He didn’t understand why this was happening. Why were they targeting him again? What had he done?

The room felt suffocating, thick with an unnatural tension. The white snake, still draped lazily across his lap, slithered over his shoulder, it’s cool body pressing against his neck. Adam’s breath hitched, but then he felt something strange—something unsettling.

The snake’s head gently nuzzled his cheek, almost affectionately. It moved slowly, deliberately. And then—was that a laugh?

Adam blinked, his heart skipping a beat. He could’ve sworn the snake had... laughed. A low, soft sound, almost like a faint chuckle. But that couldn’t be right. Snakes don’t laugh. He shook his head, trying to push the thought away, but the eerie sensation lingered in the air, wrapping around him like a thick fog.

The petals on the floor shifted slightly, as if moved by an unseen breeze.

And deep inside him, something shifted, like a slow crack forming in the walls of his carefully contained world. Adam’s green eyes drifted back to the bouquet of black roses cradled in his lap, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. A soft, almost timid curve of his lips. The black petals, once ominous, now seemed beautiful in his hands—delicate, fragile, like something precious.

It was the first time anyone had given him flowers.

The thought sent warmth spreading through his chest, melting away the icy tendrils of fear that had been gripping him moments before. Adam’s fingers brushed over the velvet-like petals, his touch gentle, reverent. He had never received a gift like this—never been given anything with such a strange, intimate care. His mind wandered, his heartbeat slowing as a familiar name crept into his thoughts.

“Are… are…” he began softly, his voice barely a whisper as he glanced at the small white snake coiled around his neck. It’s cool, smooth body pressed against his skin like a comforting weight. Adam licked his dry lips and, for the first time in what felt like years, he allowed a soft, genuine smile to form.

“Are these a gift from… Luci?”

The name fell from his lips like a secret, hidden away for too long. Luci. The Imp. His Imp. The thought of Luci made Adam's heart swell, the melancholy that had wrapped around him for so long lifting, even if only for a moment. He hadn’t seen the little creature in over a year—not since the last time he’d been utterly alone, buried beneath the crushing weight of the orphanage’s cold, indifferent walls. Luci had always appeared when he was most vulnerable, when the sadness became too much to bear.

And now, with the bouquet of black roses in his arms, Adam couldn't shake the feeling that Luci had returned in some way. Even though the Imp wasn’t here physically, Adam could sense the connection, like an invisible thread pulling him back to those moments where Luci had made everything better.

The snake, with its calm, slithering movements, rubbed its small head against his cheek, as if in answer. The soft, cool pressure felt... affectionate. Reassuring.

Adam’s smile widened, his heart soaring with a childlike joy.

So, the roses were from Luci!

He pulled the bouquet closer to his chest, hugging the flowers tightly. The sweet, intoxicating scent filled his lungs, calming him. The strange weight of the day—the stares, the accusations, the dead fish, the maggots in Steve’s bed—seemed to fade into the background. None of it mattered anymore. Not when Luci was thinking of him. Not when the Imp had remembered him after all this time.

As he cuddled the flowers, his thoughts drifted back to the first time he’d seen Luci. He had been younger then, maybe ten or eleven, and utterly broken by the cruelty of the other children. It had been after a particularly awful prank that left him bruised and bleeding, and that night, in the dark corner of the chapel, Luci had appeared—a small, shadowy figure with mischievous eyes and a grin too wide for its face. Luci had never spoken a word, but Adam had understood. The Imp had made the pain go away, if only for a little while.

And now, Adam was sure Luci had returned, in some subtle, invisible way. The white snake nuzzling him, the black roses with their mysterious scent... they were all signs. Signs that Luci hadn’t forgotten him.

Still clutching the bouquet, Adam stood up slowly, his heart fluttering with excitement. The weight of the snake, now lazily draped across his shoulders, felt like a protective cloak, keeping him safe from the cruelty of the outside world.

Steve was still gone, likely yelling at Sister Sera about the mess in his bed, but Adam didn’t care. All he could think about was Luci, the strange, comforting presence that had once filled his life with a quiet, mischievous magic.

He glanced at the petals on the floor again. Steve had said something about them being arranged in a pentagram, but Adam didn’t see it that way. To him, they were part of Luci’s gift—an offering of beauty and mystery, just like the Imp had always been.

Adam’s fingers absentmindedly stroked the snake’s smooth, white body as he stood by the window, staring out at the darkening sky. His mind drifted, lost in the memory of Luci’s wide grin, the way the Imp had made him feel seen in a world that had otherwise forgotten him.

A soft, gentle hiss escaped the snake’s mouth, and Adam couldn’t help but smile again. Maybe the snake wasn’t Luci, but it was a reminder—a reminder that, even in the darkness, there were small moments of magic meant only for him.

As the last of the sunlight faded, casting long, eerie shadows across the room, Adam stood there, clutching the roses to his chest, feeling an odd sense of peace. Whatever had changed inside him, whatever connection had been rekindled with Luci, it made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

But beneath the calm, something darker lingered—a whisper in the back of his mind, soft and persistent. A feeling that this gift, beautiful as it was, had a purpose. That perhaps Luci wasn’t done with him yet.

“I think I will call you Basil.”

~#~

The days blended into one another as Adam and Steve became inseparable. Adam, mute and withdrawn, found solace in Steve’s presence, his constant companionship a balm to the loneliness that gnawed at him. Steve seemed to understand him without words, offering his quiet jokes and warm touches instead of prying questions. It was a sweet, gentle connection that Adam had never known before.

Adam couldn't go outside in the sun—his pale skin reacted violently to it—so Steve opted to stay inside with him, spending long hours in the dim corridors of the church, in the dusty, forgotten corners where the sunlight barely touched. When Adam sat in the library, his sanctuary, Steve would sit next to him, their knees brushing together and shoulders touching. There was a warmth to Steve’s presence, one that made Adam’s heart race in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.

Always, Adam had Basil, his little white snake, curled around his wrist or resting on his shoulder. The snake had become his constant companion, a creature that seemed to understand his silence better than anyone. But Basil didn’t take kindly to Steve. Whenever Steve would get too close, the snake would hiss, its tongue flicking out aggressively, eyes narrowing in warning.

Steve, of course, made light of it, smiling that crooked grin that always made Adam's stomach flutter.

 “Basil’s our love child, you know,” Steve would say with a wink, reaching out to ruffle Adam’s hair. “He’s just mad ‘cause he doesn’t accept me as Papa yet.”

Basil would hiss in response, and Adam would blush deeply, his face turning scarlet. He’d bury his head in the bouquet of black roses still resting on his nightstand, hiding his burning cheeks. The joke lodged in his mind, making him wonder—if Steve was the “Papa,” did that make him the “mother”? The thought embarrassed him further, his thoughts tangled and confused.

But then, like a dark whisper creeping into his mind, Adam would remember Luci. His Imp, his protector. He thought of the delicate China-doll family he’d once created with Luci, an imaginary world where they belonged together. It felt real, so real, even though the Imp had been gone for a long time now. While Steve was here, by his side day in and day out, Luci’s absence hung over him like a shadow. Adam adored Luci, more than anything, but the Imp was hardly ever around. He wondered, conflicted, if he was betraying Luci somehow by growing so close to Steve.

Adam often found himself watching Steve when he thought the older boy wouldn’t notice—admiring his bright red hair, the way his freckles dotted his sun-kissed skin, like stars in a night sky. Adam wanted to reach out, to trace those freckles with his fingers, to count each one like a secret only he could uncover.

One afternoon, as they sat side by side in the library, Adam caught himself staring again, lost in thought, admiring how beautiful Steve looked in the soft light filtering through the tall windows. His eyes traced the sharp angles of Steve’s face, the way his lips curled up in that ever-present smirk.

Steve, sensing the attention, turned his head and caught Adam’s gaze. His grin widened, teasing.

“Like what you see?” he asked with a wink.

Adam’s face flushed crimson, his heart leaping into his throat. He quickly turned away, embarrassed and flustered, but Steve laughed—soft and joyful, a sound that made Adam’s heart skip a beat.

Steve leaned in closer, his breath warm against Adam’s ear. “I kind of like it when you look, you know,” he whispered, his voice low and playful.

Adam’s eyes widened in surprise, his pulse quickening. He turned back to Steve, his green eyes wide with confusion and hope, but before he could process the moment, a deafening bang shattered the quiet of the library.

Both boys jumped to their feet, startled. Adam’s heart raced, panic rising in his chest. The sound had come from somewhere deep within the library, and it was followed by the creaking groan of wood—heavy, ancient bookshelves shifting unnaturally.

Steve grabbed Adam’s hand, yanking him out of the narrow corridor between the shelves just in time to see the entire row of bookshelves begin to topple over, one by one. Like dominos, they fell, crashing down with a force that made the room shudder. Dust and old, forgotten books filled the air, the ground trembling beneath their feet as each towering shelf slammed into the next.

Adam’s eyes grew wide with terror. His heart pounded against his ribs as he stared at the destruction unfolding in front of him. It was as if the library itself was collapsing in on them, the walls closing in, the air growing heavy with dust and dread.

Just as the last shelf hit the ground with a resounding crash, the door to the library burst open, revealing Sister Sera and Uriel, their long black habits flowing behind them as they rushed in. The two nuns stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide in shock as they took in the devastation around them.

“What in Heaven’s name happened here?” Sister Sera demanded, her voice sharp with disbelief.

Adam, as always, could not answer. His throat tightened; his tongue heavy in his mouth. He stood frozen, his hand still clasped tightly in Steve’s, his mind racing.

Steve squeezed his hand, stepping in front of Adam protectively, but even he seemed lost for words, his face pale with shock.

As Sister Sera and Uriel surveyed the wreckage, Adam’s eyes drifted toward the far corner of the library. Amidst the swirling dust and shadows, something flickered—just for a moment. A shape, small and dark, standing in the corner where the light didn’t reach. It was barely visible, but Adam’s heart skipped a beat as his gaze locked onto it.

A shadow. A familiar shadow. One that looked eerily like Luci.

Adam blinked, his breath catching in his throat. Was it really him? Could Luci have caused this?

No… Luci wouldn’t hurt him. Would he?

The figure in the corner flickered again, then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Adam’s heart raced; his mind spiralling. He couldn’t be sure if it had been real or just his imagination playing tricks on him. But something deep inside him stirred—a gnawing unease, a whisper of doubt.

Steve’s grip on his hand tightened. He glanced down at Adam, his brow furrowed with concern. “You, okay?”

Adam nodded, but inside, his thoughts churned. What had caused the shelves to fall? Was it just an accident? Or had something—someone—else been at work? And if it was Luci… what did that mean?

For the first time, Adam felt a chill of fear creeping up his spine. The warmth of Steve’s hand in his own did little to chase it away.

~#~

Adam’s eighteenth birthday marked the start of a new change, though he couldn’t quite understand why. Something simmered beneath the surface, like an itch just out of reach. His heart fluttered in his chest, that familiar warmth creeping up his neck and colouring his cheeks. He sat shyly at the foot of his bed, hands nervously clutching the edge of the mattress, his emerald eyes gleaming as they fell upon the brightly coloured box before him.

The box was adorned with adorable apple-like patterns, almost childlike in their simplicity, framed with soft pastel shades that seemed out of place in the dimly lit room. Adam couldn’t help but sigh sweetly at the sight of it. It was too perfect, too innocent for the atmosphere that hung heavy around him, but something about it tugged at his heart. Maybe it was the care Steve had put into it, or perhaps the fleeting joy it brought into the otherwise oppressive stillness of the church.

“Happy birthday, Addie!”

Steve’s voice broke the silence, cheerful and far too loud for the tiny room. The ridiculous party hat perched on his head, with the same apple patterns decorating it, only added to the absurdity of the moment. He grinned wildly, eyes crinkling in amusement, and with a flourish, he pulled the string of a party-popper above Adam’s head. Streams of brightly coloured ribbons rained down over Adam, catching in his hair and across his shoulders, mixing with the soft, white scales of Basil, who had lazily coiled himself around Adam’s neck.

“Whoop! Whoop!” Steve cheered, fist-pumping the air gleefully.

“Another year older! Another step closer to the end!” His laughter echoed through the small space, carefree and full of life. “Soon, the afterlife of a Sinner will be for you~”

Adam blinked in surprise at Steve’s strange choice of words, but a small smile tugged at his lips, despite himself. He looked up through the shower of ribbons, his heart swelling at Steve’s exuberance, at the way he tried so hard to make this day special. The church was always cold, dark, and looming—its ancient walls held secrets, whispers, and shadows—but Steve managed to bring light into Adam’s world, even if only for a moment.

Basil, however, was less impressed. The white snake shifted, its long body coiling tighter around Adam’s neck, lifting its head to fix Steve with an unblinking, reptilian stare. A soft, warning hiss escaped Basil’s throat, his forked tongue flickering in and out, as if expressing its distaste for the loudness and fuss.

Steve, always unfazed, chuckled and ruffled his fiery red hair, adjusting the ridiculous hat on his head.

 “Come on, Basil. You’ve got to accept me eventually. I’m part of the family too, know.” He winked at Adam. “He’s just jealous cause he’s not the centre of attention today.”

The snake hissed again, and Adam’s cheeks flushed deeper as he hid his face, stifling a giggle. He couldn’t help but think how true Steve’s words were, in a way. Basil did seem possessive, always there, watching, observing every interaction Adam had with Steve. But Basil was more than just a pet. The snake had been with Adam through so much—through every cruel word, every cold glance from the other orphans, every inexplicable event that marked Adam’s life with an eerie, unshakable tension.

His focus homed in on Steve. Steve, who had always been there. Steve, who had never missed a birthday. Steve, who was the one constant in his life filled with silence and shadows.

The way Steve was grinning at him now sent a rush of warmth through Adam’s veins, disarming the tension that had wrapped itself around his heart. Adam could feel his cheeks flush, his gaze caught in Steve’s, unable to look away. Something about Steve’s presence always managed to soothe the darkness, make the ever-lurking fear dissipate, even just for a moment.

Steve noticed him staring again, the same teasing grin pulling at the corners of his lips. Without hesitation, he leaned forward, closing the space between them, ignoring the soft warning hiss that slipped from Basil’s mouth. Steve’s fingers brushed against Adam’s cheek, a feather-light touch that made Adam’s breath hitch in his throat.

Adam gasped, his wide eyes locking with Steve’s as his body jolted in surprise. The touch, so gentle, so deliberate, sent a ripple of unfamiliar sensations through him. His heart stuttered, caught between terror and longing.

Steve’s voice dropped to a hushed whisper, his tone intimate and tender.

"I’ve got another birthday present for you, Addie," he murmured, his words barely audible above the soft hiss of the snake. "If you want it."

Adam’s throat went dry, and all he could do was nod, the motion slow and unsure, but the pull towards Steve undeniable. He felt himself leaning closer, drawn in by the warmth of Steve’s presence, the safety he exuded. And then, softly, hesitantly, their lips met.

The kiss was gentle, sweet, a soft press of lips that sent Adam spiralling. His heart raced, but it wasn’t fear that fuelled it this time—it was something deeper, something that made his entire body hum with a nervous, fluttering energy. His hands clenched the edges of the bed, knuckles white, as he melted into the moment, into Steve’s warmth. His face flushed hot, the room around them blurring as every sense seemed to home in on the way Steve’s lips felt against his.

When they finally parted, Adam’s breath caught, and his eyes flickered up to meet Steve’s. His cheeks were burning, his mind spinning in a thousand different directions. Steve was watching him with that same teasing grin, though this time there was something more—something softer in his eyes.

"Was I really that good of a kisser?" Steve teased, his voice a low chuckle, but Adam could see the hint of vulnerability behind it, as if he truly wanted to know.

Adam’s face burned hotter, and he shyly shrugged, unable to find the words to answer. He couldn’t speak, of course—he never could—but even if he had the ability, he wasn’t sure what he’d say. His emotions were tangled, his mind buzzing with thoughts he didn’t quite understand yet. But the warmth in his chest was unmistakable.

Steve laughed, the sound filling the room and cutting through the lingering tension like a ray of sunlight piercing a storm. He reached for the brightly wrapped gift on the bed, the apple-patterned box that had caught Adam’s attention earlier and shook it playfully.

"You still need to open this before we get to the cake," Steve charmingly said.

Adam smiled, a soft, almost bashful smile, and reached out to take the gift. His hands trembled slightly as he began to unwrap it, the delicate paper crinkling under his fingers. He felt a surge of warmth as he unwrapped the gift, but the darkness that had hung over him for so long lingered in the corners of the room, in the shadows that seemed to move when no one was looking.

Basil hissed again, his small body coiling tighter around Adam’s neck, his beady eyes watching Steve warily. The snake had always been protective of Adam, sensing something that Adam himself couldn’t quite understand. And as much as Adam adored Steve, something in the air felt different now thicker, charged, as if the kiss had shifted something deeper within him.

Steve had taken his first kiss.

Adam hoped Steve would take his firsts.

Basil hissed again, his breath seething through clenched teeth, the sound sharp and venomous like the warning of a cornered serpent. The room had shifted, its shadows thickening, pressing in from the edges with a suffocating weight. It was as though the very walls recoiled from what had just unfolded, casting the space into a murky twilight that swallowed the light. Disappointment hung in the air like a cold, damp fog, seeping into every corner of the box-shaped room. Basil’s dark eyes, gleaming with barely concealed contempt, flickered over the two figures, his gaze a smouldering accusation.

A shudder crawled down Steve’s spine, an icy finger trailing across his skin as if something unseen had brushed against him. He instinctively pressed a trembling hand to the back of his neck, his pulse quickening beneath his fingertips. The air in the room was thick, heavy with something unspoken, something dangerous. His eyes darted, scanning the dim space, searching for any sign of what might be lurking just out of sight.

But nothing. Only silence, and the relentless, oppressive darkness creeping closer.

Steve forced a tight smile, his lips twitching as he glanced toward Adam, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. There was a flicker of unease there, a crack in his composure that betrayed the mounting tension crawling beneath his skin. Adam smiled back, but there was something off about it. Something cold. Something wrong.

In the shadowed corners of the room, the darkness seemed to pulse, alive with a quiet, watching malice.

~#~

Adam woke early, an unsettling sense of wrongness gnawing at him before his eyes had even fully opened. The stillness of the morning felt heavy, thick, like the air before a storm. He sat up slowly, his gaze sweeping across the dim room with wary caution. The wardrobe stood against the far wall, its dark wooden surface looming ominously in the low light, just as it always had, but something about it seemed different. The knots in the wood looked like eyes, watching, waiting. That old fear from his childhood resurfaced, making his throat tighten. For years, he had tied the skipping rope around the handles, a makeshift lock against whatever terror his young mind had believed lived inside. The rope was still there, frayed from countless knots and untangling.

Adam swallowed thickly, his stomach twisting with a sick sense of dread, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. He shifted his gaze toward Steve’s bed, expecting to see his best friend’s familiar figure tangled in the sheets. But the bed was empty, the covers rumpled and tossed aside. A chill settled in Adam’s bones.

Steve was never a morning person... Where could he be?

Adam pushed the quilts off his legs, his muscles tense as if sensing something terrible was on the horizon. His feet touched the cold floor, but before he could stand, his eyes drifted to the pillow beside him, where Basil—his little white snake—always curled up to sleep.

But Basil was gone.

A surge of panic shot through Adam, a sick wave of worry washing over him. His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm erratic, as if something was beating inside him, trying to get out. He forced himself up, though his legs trembled beneath him, weak and unsteady. The room suddenly felt too quiet, too empty, like a hollow shell of what it had been only the night before. Something was wrong. Something was deeply, horribly wrong.

Adam stepped into the corridor, the cold air biting at his skin. The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet, the sound unnervingly loud in the silence. Each step felt like a whisper of warning, as if the house itself was trying to tell him to turn back. But he couldn’t. He had to find Steve. He had to find Basil.

He was halfway to the staircase when a deafening crash reverberated through the house, followed by a scream that tore through the quiet like a knife. The sound hit Adam like a physical blow, and his ears buzzed with a strange, oppressive white noise. His body moved on instinct, stumbling forward, his breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps. When he reached the top of the stairs, he froze, peering over the rail.

Below him, the corridor was alive with chaos. Nuns rushed toward the staircase, their black habits swirling like storm clouds. Children gathered in frightened clusters, their faces pale with shock. And there, at the bottom of the stairs, lay Steve.

Adam’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. Steve’s body was twisted, one leg bent at an unnatural angle, his face contorted in pain. Sister Sera was crouched beside him, her hands fluttering over his broken form as she called for help. Adam's blood turned to ice as he crouched at the top of the stairs, gripping the wooden beams so tightly his knuckles turned white. His mind reeled, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Steve had been pushed.

He had to have been.

There was no other explanation. But when Adam looked around, there was no one near him. No one except... himself.

His thoughts spiralled into panic.

 No, no, no... I didn’t push him. I couldn’t have.

He loved Steve, more than anything in this world. The very idea of hurting him made Adam’s stomach churn with nausea. But if it wasn’t him, then who?

A soft hiss broke the suffocating silence, sending a jolt of terror through Adam. His head snapped toward the sound, and his blood ran cold. Slithering across the floor, near the base of the stairs, was Basil. The little white snake was moving away from the chaos, toward the shadowed wall. Adam’s breath caught in his throat as he watched, paralyzed, as Basil approached the dark corner.

Then, from the wall, something shifted—something not quite human. A shadow emerged, its form impossibly black, save for the glowing red eyes that burned like embers in the darkness. The shadow was tall, towering, with a grotesque, distorted shape. Long, spindly fingers—each ending in sharp, razor-like claws—extended from the wall, reaching out with slow, deliberate intent.

Basil slithered up the shadow’s outstretched hand and melted into it, disappearing into the darkness as though he’d never existed.

Adam’s entire body went rigid with fear, his pulse pounding so hard he could hear it thundering in his ears. He clung to the wooden beams, his fingers digging into the splintered wood as his breath came in short, panicked bursts. The shadow seemed to breathe, the air around it is growing colder, more suffocating.

The thing’s red eyes locked onto Adam, burning with a hunger that sent a violent tremor through his body.

“…Luci?”

~#~

Adam sat on the edge of his bed, the room cold and suffocating with the weight of silence. His once bright emerald eyes, now dull and lifeless, stared blankly across the room at Steve’s empty bed, his gaze lingering on the rumpled sheets that had remained untouched since the accident. Steve had been gone all day, whisked away to the infirmary, and the gnawing void his absence left behind felt like a stone lodged in Adam’s chest, pressing down with a cruel weight. His heart pounded so heavily, it felt as though the rhythm was hammering against his skull, each beat sending sharp pulses of pain through his temples.

No one had spoken to him. Not since the fall. Not even Sister Sera, who always had a kind word or a calming hand to offer. Now, they all avoided him like a plague. Their whispers had grown louder, more pointed. Their eyes slid away from him whenever he entered a room, and the few that dared to meet his gaze only held fear and suspicion.

They blame me, Adam thought bitterly, his hands twisting anxiously in his lap. He could feel their judgment pressing against him, even when they weren't looking. They thought he was cursed. Maybe they were right.

The shadows lengthened as night fell, the church slowly sinking into a haunting stillness. The distant echo of footsteps faded, leaving Adam alone with nothing but his thoughts—and the horrible guilt gnawing at his insides. He couldn’t sit still any longer. Something was wrong. Steve... Steve needed him.

His legs shook as he rose to his feet, a trembling breath escaping his lips. He stood there for a moment, trying to gather his courage. The air felt heavy, thick with the same oppressive tension that had haunted him since Steve’s accident. His fingers fidgeted nervously, twisting together as he tiptoed toward the door. The corridor stretched out in front of him like a dark and endless tunnel, but Adam knew where he had to go.

Moving as quietly as he could, he slipped out of the room, his bare feet padding softly along the cold, creaking wood. Every step felt like a risk, as if the house itself was watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. The nuns wouldn’t approve of him being out of bed at this hour, especially not after everything that had happened. But none of that mattered now.

As he neared the dumbwaiter, the familiar small shaft embedded in the wall, he felt a flicker of hesitation. The tiny door slid open with a soft creak, just as it had so many times before. Adam paused, his breath catching in his throat. Was he really doing this? He’d climbed into that dumbwaiter so many times as a child, but it felt different now. Everything felt different. Darker. More dangerous. The whispered rumors of his curse tugged at the corners of his mind.

Emily lost her sight because of you. Steve fell because of you. This is all your fault.

He couldn’t shake the thought, no matter how much he wanted to. The fear clawed at him, twisting in his gut. But he had to know. He had to see.

With a sharp inhale, Adam climbed into the dumbwaiter. The space was tighter now, more claustrophobic, his shoulders brushing the sides as he squeezed himself in. The door slid shut with a loud thud, sealing him inside the darkness. His heart raced as the dumbwaiter suddenly lurched, the cables groaning as it began its rapid descent through the building. Faster and faster it went, the air rushing past him, the sound of rattling metal filling the tiny compartment.

And then, with a final jarring thud, it stopped.

The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit basement beyond. Adam’s stomach turned as he peered into the room, the smell of damp stone and cold metal filling his nostrils. It was just as he remembered, yet something about it felt... wrong.

The room stretched before him, long tables lined both sides, and unlit bulbs dangled from the ceiling like forgotten eyes. Most of them still worked, casting faint, yellow light, but one bulb had blown, leaving a portion of the room drenched in deep shadow. The darkness seemed to pulse there, thick and unsettling, the broken bulb giving the entire space an eerie, abandoned feel.

Adam’s footsteps were cautious as he stepped out of the dumbwaiter, his heart pounding with every movement. The floor beneath him felt colder here, the chill creeping up through his feet as he approached the turn at the far end of the room. His breaths came shallow, quick, the silence pressing in around him like a living thing.

“Luci?” he called, curling his hands in front of himself. “Luci, I want to talk to you.”

“Luci?”

[my-little-random-world]

Isabel: Doña Marta, Miss Fina Valero. Marta: Tell her to come in. Isabel: Right away. Fina: Well, well, well, Marta! The private sale was a total success! You should have seen Carmen; she was walking right up to the clients as they passed through the door. Marta: I know, Astrid Madariaga just called me, all excited, to tell me about it. Fina: They cleared everything out, huh? Marta: What great news! Fina: And why didn’t you come by? I’ve been waiting for you all afternoon. Marta: Because I had to take over my new position. Fina: What new position? Marta: You’re looking at the new director of Perfumerías de la Reina. Fina: What?! Are you serious? Marta: Yes! Fina: What?! Marta: My father removed Jesús and offered it to me. It all happened so fast, which is why I couldn’t tell you before.

Fina: But, but congratulations, right?! Congratulations! What wonderful news, honestly! Because... because it’s good news, right? Marta: Yes, yes, yes. I’m on cloud nine. And for my father to have trusted me... Fina: But does that mean...? Marta: That we’re smoothing things over. Fina: Oh my God, Marta! You have no idea how much you deserve all of this, truly. You’ve fought so hard to get here. You’ve had to break down walls that your brothers, just by being men, can’t even imagine. Marta: I won’t deny that. Fina: And... and what about Barcelona? Is the move still on? Because I doubt your brother will take long to expose those photographs if you don’t step down from the position. Marta: That’s not going to happen. Fina: Why? Marta: Because my father destroyed the negatives. Fina: Are we out of danger? Marta: The nightmare is over. Jesús can’t hurt us.

—Next scene—

Marta: We no longer have to run, and you can stay by your father’s side until his last breath. That’s what you wanted, right? Fina: Yes, yes, yes. Marta: Does that sound good to you...? Fina: Of course, of course it sounds good to me. I felt so guilty about having to leave him. Marta: Well, now nothing and no one will stop us from continuing our lives here. In fact, now with my new position, I’ll make sure no one bothers us in the colony. What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy? Fina: Yes, of course. Of course I’m happy. I’m really happy... But in Barcelona, we were going to live together in the same house and... that’s it, it’s fine! I was excited about it, but it’s fine. Marta: Fina... Fina: No, don’t “Fina” me, Marta. You just said it yourself. Here, we’ll each go back to our own lives, each in our own place. Marta: We’ll find a way. Just last night you were sleeping at my place. Fina: Your place, but in the downstairs rooms with my father, because I thought those were the last days I was going to spend with him. Marta: We’ll figure it out, hm? The important thing now is that you and I are safe. Fina: We’ve really lifted a heavy weight off our shoulders, haven’t we? Marta: I would’ve never forgiven myself if something had happened to you because of my brother.

[folklaurr]

Woke up and felt an evil presence

[lesbiansanemi]

Do you think if I wish hard enough my mom will get electrocuted by a string of Christmas lights and just go up in a cloud of smoke. It’d be a Christmas miracle

[fingertipsmp3]

Should I go to my graduation or not. Seriously

[reasonsforhope]

No paywall version here.

"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...

In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.

Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.

But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.

I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.

In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.

For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.

And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.

Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.

[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]

And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.

The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.

I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.

To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.

The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.

Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.

I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."

-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.

[diari0deglierrori]

I say ‘no’ one time and then get told I’m obnoxious…

[luvth0t]

NEED ME? ━ L.N

in which you’re on vacation with your ex boyfriend, the only man who’s been able to make you cum in recent times.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, eavesdropping, cocky lando, ex lovers, conversations of masturbation and inability to orgasm, hair pulling, oral both receiving, overstimulation, praise, slight degradation, choking ect.

it was a throw away question. one lando probably shouldn’t have brushed off.

“you’re sure you’re fine with her coming?” max had asked so casually despite it being on this tip of his tongue for the last hour, eyes not lifting from his phone to see the way lando looked at him with raised eyebrows.

the driver said your name in confusion, even chuckled. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” lando followed; a rhetorical question. he knew why max was asking such thing.

he watched as max shrugged, hummed mindlessly as if he didn’t have a response prepared.

“wouldn’t catch me wanting to share a roof with my ex,” max mused; putting his phone down and finally meeting lando’s eyes, glare more so, quick to put his hands up in defence. “just saying. something to think about,” max quickly added.

he had his best friends best interest at heart.

“so what? we tell her she can’t come?” lando scoffed, shaking his head as he leant back into the seat he was occupying. “we’re friends. hasn’t been an issue before.” lando dismissed.

and he wasn’t lying. you’d broken up almost a year ago, which was concerning at first considering you shared the same friend group. were friends before lovers.

but it worked, you’d remained friends. saw each other every now and then, in a group setting. you weren’t as close, obviously, but it wasn’t awkward.

“no i know,” max huffed; even rolling his eyes. “maybe two villa’s is something to think about, that’s all.” max shrugged once more. he wasn’t just thinking of lando, but you as well, his other dear friend.

the brit shook his head, not giving in to the worry max seemed to hold. “not necessary. no different than being at the same hotel.” lando concluded.

he’d seen you on nights out, had conversations with you on boats; you still got an invite and paddock pass to his home race.

there was nothing to worry about. if you two weren’t capable of being friends, such thing would’ve been exposed.

that’s what lando thought anyways.

standing on the deck of a ten bedroom villa in the south of france however, he realised maybe he should’ve considered max’s words more carefully.

small doses of you seemed to differ from your constant presence.

the break up was civil, lando was grateful for such thing. it’d been him who ended things, purely because he felt as if he couldn’t give you the time you deserve. it was a cop out, he feared, realising things were almost too good between the pair of you.

he wasn’t sure he could commit to putting you through a relationship where you wouldn’t get the time and treatment you deserved.

you took it well, an angel in fact; you wanted to hate him for it. but you couldn’t bring yourself too. selfless enough to put the peace of your mutual friends and him first. plus, losing him entirely left a bitter taste in your mouth.

you’d mourned the relationship, cried in private and cursed him to your best friend; and moved on. well, appeared to have.

it went unspoken, amongst the group; in front of you two at least, and between you two as well. not exactly something you were ready to laugh at yet. it just seemed to go… unaddressed.

until it was night two, dinner at a fancy restaurant with maybe a few too many bottles of wine meant piling into ubers to get back to the villa.

it sort of just happened, lando shuffling into the car behind you; leaving you in the middle of him and max; pietra on max’s lap and tom in the front.

your senses were consumed of him immediately, not able to avoid him considering you were practically pressed into his side in an attempt to give pietra enough room.

you glanced up at him once, smiling sheepishly to see his eyes already on you.

“you still wear it,” lando hummed casually, pinky finger reaching to brush over the bracelet he’d bought you a few months into your relationship, grazing your wrist as he did so.

your cheeks went a shade of pink at the observation, and if it weren’t for the fact you were wine drunk you probably would’ve made up an excuse as to why the piece of metal still found it’s way onto your wrist everyday.

“it’s my favourite,” you replied; glancing down at the piece as your hand moved to fiddle with it, small smile playing on your lips.

you missed the grin spread on lando’s face, a sense of pride fulfilling him as he recounted the stress it had caused him just picking out the damn bracelet. he was relieved to see you still wearing it, for some reason.

“i’ve got good taste.” lando bragged, eyes practically begging for yours to meet his again; smiling in amusement when they did as you nudged him.

you were suddenly even more aware of the closeness, the way your knees were touching, how his arm had stretched to rest over the headrest behind you. it was forced proximity sure, but an odd sense of familiarity that you hadn’t felt in a while was accompanying it.

“most of the time,” you mused, earning a nudge back ━ which had a giggle escaping you, one you attempted to hush; not wanting to draw attention to you and lando’s conversation.

if it did, the others in the car would’ve seen the way lando’s face lit up at the sound. he hadn’t made you laugh like that in months, he’d forgotten how good it felt to do so.

he’d almost forgotten how easy you were to be around. how easy it was to fall for you in the first place.

it was as if the universe was punishing him for such thing, because suddenly you were all he could think about once more.

that night, he was simply relaxing in his room; when you came waltzing in.

“p,” your voice hummed as you knocked; pushing the door open before lando could muster a response from inside. “do you have my top━ oh shit, sorry!” you’d cut yourself short when you found yourself standing in lando’s room. not pietra and max’s.

who was luckily just lounging on the bed in his joggers, not far from switching the lamp off and going to sleep.

but he had been shocked to see you enter his room in just a towel.

“you’re fine,” lando chuckled; having sit up. “we swapped rooms this morning… figured they should have a private bathroom,” lando explained; watching as your face softened in some sort of relief.

you hadn’t been crazy. regardless, still embarrassed; the redness on your cheeks clear as you nodded, cringing ever so slightly.

“right; my bad, sorry,” you repeated; not even wanting to imagine what else you could’ve walked in on.

lando simply chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes glanced over your figure just once; unable to help himself. having to swallow to not let himself think back to what he knows is underneath the towel keeping you modest.

“i’m gonna go,” you declared; sheepishly smiling as you turned on your heel; cringing once more now that you were out of sight, not hiding the urgency as you practically fled his room and slammed the door behind you.

lando hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until you left, body relaxing as he flopped back onto the mattress; a curse leaving his lips.

the next morning, you were there again. obviously. yet he couldn’t see you, nor could you see him. so technically he was eavesdropping; but it hadn’t been on purpose.

lando was out on his balcony first, which was above yours it appeared; mindlessly scrolling through his phone before arabella’s voice became audible, who you were rooming with this trip.

“since when did nicolas get ripped,” she’d posed to you, peering at the man who was dipping in the pool; your eyes following her gaze from where you both sat in deck chairs; smoothies in hand.

“he’s always been cute,” you pointed out; shrugging ever so slightly as you adjusted the sunglasses atop your head, rolling your eyes the moment you caught glance of arabella’s grin.

“and he’s always been into you.” arabella chimed, and you should’ve expected her to steer the conversation in such direction.

lando whoever, who hadn’t scrolled past the tik tok which was playing for the fourth time now, had not expected such words.

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you and nicolas? yeah right. you two were close friends, he knew that much. but nothing more. surely not.

“we’re friends bella,” you dismissed; shaking your head. slightly flirty friends as of recent, you’d admit. but just friends.

“so? doesn’t have to stay that way,” arabella had grinned ━ and lando felt betrayed; as if it should be him the pair of you were talking about. not nicolas.

“yes it does.” you laughed. “i’m not dating within the friend group ever again,” you spoke in such certainty it had lando confused, he didn’t think it faired that bad the first time.

but he also wasn’t opposed to your declaration. not that he was close to nicolas, in fact he probably knew him the least. but he was a brother of a childhood friend, who’d tagged along the last few trips. and lando had no complaints of the guy.

“don’t be silly,” arabella huffed. “i’m not saying fall in love with him. just that he could end the sex drought you’re stuck in.” arabella hummed, your eyes widening as you hit her softly.

“what? no one can hear us!” arabella spoke dramatically, and you rolled your eyes; no argument because you figured she was right.

however she wasn’t, because lando was still listening. and his interest had suddenly spiked.

“i am not… stuck in a sex drought,” you huffed; not sounding one bit convincing as you glanced at the pool. “men just suck. i’ve given up on having an orgasm.” your words were dramatic, and playful, but still a bit of truth to them.

suddenly lando felt guilty for overhearing, or purposefully listening, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued.

your words made no sense to him; considering nights with you would always lead to multiple orgasms for both of you.

and it wasn’t as if you were short on options.

“gotta do everything yourself these days,” arabella sighed out dramtically in agreement; but she had a boyfriend, and your friendship with the girl wasn’t one for many secrets; you knew she was only ‘relating’ out of sympathy.

truth was; since lando, nothing or no one could compare. not even your own damn fingers.

“can’t even get myself off.” you huffed out almost ashamed, and you only whined when you met arabella’s shocked eyes and slack jaw.

lando suddenly felt intrusive, and flustered from the idea of you touching yourself; one he’d grown familiar with due to long distance. suddenly he was standing and ready to walk himself inside in his room.

“is your body like… broken?” arabella sounded bewildered, and you could only huff.

you’d blame it on stress, or any of your medication if it was possible; you’ve heard stories, knew there could be many reasons as to why your sex drive and urges have suddenly changed. none aligned with your circumstances however.

“just deprived i think,” you sighed.

lando needed to get his mind off your sexual need’s immediately, deciding to go on a run with max to occupy himself. to get you off his mind.

and it worked, until he got back to the villa. hot and out of breath, he found himself in the kitchen ━ pouring a glass of water with ice, eyes wandering out the fold out doors that exposed the luxurious back yard. decking, sun lounges, a pool; and his closest friends.

and his ex girlfriend. in a little bikini. with another man’s hands on her.

he couldn’t help but scoff at the sight, you resting on your stomach as nicolas rubbed sunscreen into your back ━ watching as you grinned and spoke up to him momentarily. you were flirting, he knew that look.

his takeaways from his… eavesdropping, was that you didn’t plan to pursue nicolas. so what the fuck was this?

he wanted to laugh, you were going to seek answers to your problems in nicolas? he almost felt offended; if you needed good sex so badly he felt as if he was the obvious candidate.

“careful mate, you’re staring,” max’s words snapped lando out of his thoughts; causing him to glare at the man quickly, bringing his glass to his lips, unaware that his grip was so tight his knuckles were white.

max’s amusement only escalated, eyebrows raising as he chuckled quietly.

“i wasn’t.” lando murmured, leaning back against the counter. “just didn’t know that was a thing,” he tried to shrug off; eyes returning to where you now sat up, rubbing sunscreen into nicolas’s back now.

had he been oblivious to the pair of you?

“i don’t think it is.” max shrugged, following lando’s gaze momentarily, not overanalysing the sight. everyone was friends here.

lando looked to max in doubt, to check if he was being serious.

“does it matter if it is?” max questioned, sassily too, almost a challenge; and lando was quick to scoff ━ mustering up the best chuckle he could to appear as unbothered as he wanted to be.

“no,” the mclaren driver answered almost too quickly, clearing his throat slightly. “i hope it is. would be a good match,” he overcompensated; left to only flip max off as he chuckled and hummed unconvincingly.

“whatever you say,” max mused.

lando wished he was being honest, but as time passed by it became quite clear he was lying.

dinner that night you were sat at opposite ends of the long table, like usual; regardless, lando’s eyes were trained on you for the majority of the night.

you and nicolas of course. who’d snagged the seat next to you.

forced to watch as you shared food, laughed and chattered away in your own little world.

lando felt sick from the sight; that used to be him. should be him. and while he could only blame himself for it not being him, it was a cruel reminder of what he’d lost.

he felt utterly helpless however, because there was nothing he could do.

he couldn’t even express his dismay to anyone as he watched nicolas help you in the car. left to watch as you both giggled and stumbled up to the villa ahead of the group.

he wanted to intervene, to make his presence known to hopefully at least make it awkward. but he couldn’t bring himself too.

not when you’d been such an angel in the breakup, made things so easy for him from the start of the relationship to now. it just wouldn’t be fair to ruin this for you.

even though it was all he wanted to do.

he noted how you two were first off to go ‘sleep’ that night, halfway through the movie that had been put on. and he suddenly wished he’d downed a few more glasses of red at the restaurant, maybe then he wouldn’t have the capacity to brainstorm up everything and anything you and nicolas could be doing tonight.

he wasn’t going to say it was what kept him up, tossing and turning and unable to fall asleep; but it definitely played on his mind.

it was starting to make sense to him at least; he hadn’t been around you without distractions since the breakup. it suddenly became clear how helpful those distractions are.

3:42 the clock read.

lando hadn’t gotten a second of shut eye, and after two hours of laying there; he conceded. deciding to get a glass of water as if that would be the solution to all his problems.

instead he was just met with the problem itself; you.

surprise, surprise. nicolas was not the answer to your prayers.

you were already keen to tell arabella ‘i told you so’ when you returned to your room. having spent the night in nicolas’.

he was a nice guy, until the clothes came off.

it was nothing new, you on top; he came. you didn’t. he then tried to get you to finish with his fingers, and you faked an orgasm when it became clear he wasn’t finding your clit any time soon.

your frustrations had now multiplied, it felt pathetic. you were ready to give up.

you snuck out the moment he fell asleep, in the kitchen to get a glass of water and for a few moments to yourself.

“shouldn’t be surprised you’re up,” lando made his presence known, having debated running back to his room when he noticed you occupying the kitchen.

typical.

“needed a drink,” you hummed sheepishly; and for some reason when your eyes met his you felt intimidated; as if you needed refuge, turning back around to the fridge to fill your cup up with ice.

maybe it was because you were already sexually frustrated. or the fact you were stood with your ex boyfriend after sneaking out of another guys room.

“same,” lando hummed; moving behind you to grab a glass for himself, and you could feel him waiting behind you as you poured water into the glass.

“nice night?” lando asked when you moved aside so he too could fill his glass, not looking at you for the time being so you wouldn’t decipher the motives in the question. he didn’t need you to know how concerned he was with your night.

you nodded quickly, humming as you still had a mouth full of water, leaning against the counter now.

“yeah, yeah,” you spoke; pursing your lips. it had been. until it wasn’t. “restaurant was lovely,” you smiled; shifting on your feet slightly as you took in his appearance, even in the dull lightly.

his messy curls that look slept on, slightly tired eyes. he looked cozy.

lando nodded, so much on the tip of his tongue. maybe if it was a different hour of the day he’d have the common sense to not speak his mind, but he was slightly sleep deprived and going insane from his own thoughts.

“you know my balcony is above yours,” lando told you; randomly, your eyebrows furrowing ━ coughing out a slight laugh. you weren’t sure where this conversation was going to lead, your guess was awkward silence. not him blurting out something… irrelevant.

it took a few moments for it to dawn on you, the slight curve of lando’s lips into a smirk causing your eyes to widen in realisation.

you’d only been out on the balcony once today.

“oh my god,” you mumbled; cringing as he chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly. “shut up!” you whisper yelled, leaning forward to whack his arm, which only had him laughing once more as his hands flew up in defence.

“i wasn’t eavesdropping! i swear,” lando mused, shaking his head as your eyebrows raised.

“great, so you just happened to hear all about my sad sex life,” you huffed, and lando couldn’t help the small smile that was refusing to leave his lips; always having adored the sight of you flustered and sheepish.

it didn’t help, the sight of you wearing what seemed to be just an oversized shirt. reminiscent of how his shirts would drape over your body.

“yeah,” lando confirmed sympathetically, causing you to whack him again; no force in your actions as you groaned audibly.

you couldn’t think of anyone you’d rather not hear that conversation; ever so grateful you hadn’t been completely honest with arabella.

you would die of humiliation if you’d told her how you compared every man to lando, how you found no one was able to make you feel anywhere near as good.

but regardless, there was a level of comfort. you trusted the man in front of you.

“nicolas though hm?” lando spoke light heartedly, reminding you of the man you’d just been in bed with.

was it bad he’d slipped your mind completely? having forgotten that he was who sparked such conversation this morning.

“did he make you cum?” his follow up question had you dumbfounded, having not expected such blunt words as your lips parted. “can i ask that?” lando added with a reassuring laugh. but you knew that look in his eyes.

they were darker than usual, he was staring at you intently; practically begging you to step closer.

“no,” you cleared your throat, opting for honesty. “he didn’t.” you huffed, eyes avoiding his for a moment as if you were ashamed. as if it was your fault.

the relief lando felt was pathetic, not that he wished a bad time upon you. or anyone for that matter. but god it felt like the door had been swung right open for him.

he was right; of course nicolas wasn’t going to do it for you.

“i know you can make yourself cum.” lando chimed, pushing himself off the counter and taking a couple steps towards you; ridding any distance as he stood in front of you. “used to be able to at least, seen it myself,” he told you as if you could forget.

you swallowed intently, the tension now almost suffocating. sleeping with an ex was something you swore against; recipe for disaster. but it seemed awfully appealing when it looked like lando did right now.

your cheeks were pink, thinking about the countless times you’d gotten yourself off on facetime calls with the driver, purely because neither of you could wait any longer to see one another again.

“not the same anymore.” your voice was barely above a whisper, it didn’t need to be; not when he was only centimetres away, looking down at you as if he was ready to ravish you.

lando’s eyebrow raised at that, eyes flickering across your face.

it wasn’t the same, you’d worked out the hard way. you only relied on your own devices when you had no other choice; and with that would be lando on the of phone with words of encouragement and direction.

“what, need me to talk you through it again?” his words were teasing as his hand moved to cup your cheek; your stomach turning at the thought. at the fact he seemed like he knew that would do it for you.

you let out a slight breath, shaking your head but you held little confidence in doing so.

“need me to touch you?” he added on, offer sounding almost like a request; words so hushed you could’ve missed them. but you didn’t, you heard him loud and clear.

his eyes were pouring into yours as if he pitied you, but the smirk on his face showed he wanted nothing more than to be the one to solve your problems.

you didn’t even need to think about it, no ifs or buts entering your mind; nothing could make the idea of him seem unappealing.

“please,” you mumbled; eyes pouring up into his, watching as a wicked grin spread on his features; one that made your knees weak.

it was all lando needed to hear, lips pressing against yours in an instant; it coming back to the pair of you quickly. feeling so natural, the way your body melted into his touch; the way your lips moved against each other.

your hands finding a grip on his shirt as his spread across your hips.

lando didn’t waste any time; he wanted to make you cum.

he wasn’t sure if it was because it seemed like a challenge, or because he missed you; but god did he want nothing more than to make you feel good:

his knee pushed between your thighs first, your legs spreading; immediately aware of the finger he was tracing up your inner thigh.

as much as lando missed the feeling of your lips against his, he loved watching you react to every touch and feeling. pulling away but not creating much distance as his fingers brushed over your clothed folds.

you took a sharp breath, shifting your weight to lean against the counter as the anticipation built within, eyes locked on his as he teasingly brushed your clothed clit as well.

he could feel your soaked panties, a wet patch that you knew wasn’t there when you first entered the kitchen.

“you know it doesn’t make sense,” lando started speaking through a breath; his fingers pushing your panties aside with ease, swiping through your folds; spreading your wetness to your clit. “because you’re always so easy for me baby,” he practically cooed as he slipped two fingers inside you.

your jaw fell slack, hips pushing against his hand lightly as you whimpered; cheeks hinting at his taunting words which you’d almost forgotten about and how crazy they drove you.

his free hand returned to your cheek, cupping the side of your face and adjusting your head to ensure you were looking up at him; his head tilting ever so slightly as he gazed down at you.

“so responsive,” he added in a hum; looking incredibly smug, thumb settling on your clit ━ and the moan that escaped you as he circled your sensitive bud had lando’s jaw clenching. he’d missed your pretty sounds.

he was toying with you, teasing. his fingers moving slowly, thumb only lightly circling your clit. yet you hadn’t felt this good in fucking forever, face contorting in pleasure proving such thing.

lando could get lost in the sight, not able to help himself from wanting to give you more.

his fingers gradually picked up the pace, thumb applying more pressure now; but it was when he curled his fingers, grazing that spot he never failed to miss, that you hadn’t been able to find, that a slightly louder moan escaped you.

“ah, ah,” lando hushed you; tapping your cheek lightly. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando hummed through heavy breaths, hating that he had to ask such thing of you.

he wanted to hear you lose control, hear you scream his name like you had countless of times. but he’d hate to be interrupted and have the current sight cut short.

you whined quietly at the request, biting down on your bottom lip as you tried to keep any noise at bay; knowing you had no choice. waking anyone up would be less than ideal.

but somehow, the thought of being caught was the least of your concerns.

your back arched when he added a third, thumb still expertly playing with your clit; your quiet whimpers and moans were growing in volume once more.

lando took matters into his own hands, the hand cupping your cheek shifting so he could tap his pointer finger on your bottom lip; and he had to shut himself up this time as you invited two digits past your lips without second thought.

“fuck,” he mumbled out; eyes fixated on the way you looked up at him with his fingers in your mouth; so similar to the sight of when you’d suck him off. his hard on was almost painful.

your moans were muffled now, thankfully, as your hips pushed forward once more; slowly losing control over your body as the pleasure continued to build.

you’d made a mess on your thighs, his fingers working in and out of you perfectly; beginning to curl his fingers repeatedly had your eyes rolling back.

“yeah, right there baby?” lando mumbled; despite you unable to respond. “gonna make a mess on my fingers yeah? think you deserve to cum,” he smirked ━ and if you could’ve you would’ve cried out, nodding quickly at his words.

your stomach tightened, it was sudden; more sudden than you remembered, lando having caught on to the fact you were cumming before you did; squeezing his fingers as you came undone.

his body was practically holding you up against the counter, vision going white for a moment as your muffled moans filled the air, hips bucking involuntarily once more.

lando wanted to curse himself for ever depriving himself of such thing, watching as you shook in front of him; fingers moving to let you ride out your high, until he was pulling them from your panties, and mouth respectively.

your eyes fluttered open, nothing but awe as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes; panting ever so lightly.

he was smiling cockily, if he didn’t know the root of your issue before, he did now. the way you needed him.

you couldn’t even crush his inflating ego, not when he’d made you cum so hard in a matter of minutes; giving you what you’d been chasing the past few months.

he was about to kiss you again, after moments of admiring your face; but the sound of a door shutting had the moment ruined, reminding both you and him of where you are and what you’re meant to be.

definitely not meant to be caught having a moment at 4 in the morning.

lando was quick in taking a few large strides across the kitchen, positioning himself on the other side of the island as you quickly tugged your shirt down and ran your hand through your hair.

when pietra walked in, it was an innocent sight. plenty of distance between the pair of you, not enough lights on to expose your flushed cheeks or lando’s glistening fingers.

you pretended to be surprised as you brought your glass to your lips, leaning against the counter because your legs were still shaky, lando nodding towards the blonde.

“can’t sleep?” lando hummed in question.

“need to fill my water up.” pietra nodded with a smile, eyes flickering between you in suspicion for a brief moment as she realised this was almost an awkward thing to walk in on. you and him.

if only she knew.

you nodded in agreement, raising your glass of water as lando let out a small chuckle.

“if you need a late night snack, the donuts are great,” lando spoke again; your eyes falling onto him, and you were sure your face was bright red as you watched him bring his fingers to his lips; licking them clean.

you coughed on air, playing it off as if your water went down the wrong way; pietra oblivious as she nodded with a smile.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

the smirk he’d sent you was sickening, and with that he was saying good night and excusing himself.

lando ended up needing a cold shower that night, with his own hand and images of you burned into his mind.

you were hoping your head would be clear when you woke up, but it was only more scrambled.

you’d gotten what you wanted, was it greedy to only want more?

“good night?” arabella had questioned you, sitting next to you on the long dining table; bowls of cereal in front of pair of you; and the smirk on her face was quite telling.

except she didn’t know the half of it.

“yeah, yeah it was good,” you hummed; eyes shifting to the other end of the table; where lando sat, already staring at you. the mischievous glint in his eye had you looking away quickly, the sly smirk not helping you in trying to play it cool to arabella.

you knew he was listening.

“did your… problem get solved?” arabella attempted to ask without outing you, so oblivious to the fact lando could easily piece together her words.

your eyes narrowed towards her, as if to say ‘shut up.’ which she only looked back at you with wide eyes, finding herself quite discrete.

“well?” arabella pushed, whisper yelling.

“yes,” you huffed; in hopes she would shut up, you could feel lando’s eyes burning into you. the man who solved your problem, unbeknownst to arabella who thought it was nicolas who was responsible.

“ah! how exciting,” arabella grinned; standing up and taking her bowel to the kitchen, only then did you let your eyes fall back on the british driver.

who looked oh so amused, you had to flee; following in the girls steps.

it set the tone for the next few days; longing looks, tempting smirks and lingering touches.

you couldn’t bring yourself to go out of your way and seek more of him; despite how much you wanted it. nicolas had been forgotten about, failing to explain your sudden interest and now lack of in the guy.

lando was all you could think about. how couldn’t you? he’d fingered you in the kitchen, bringing you to a mind blowing orgasm you’d been craving; one you hadn’t experienced since him. and once again, it had gone unaddressed.

the tension was clear; you got peace from the fact he was in the same boat as you.

you hated that he’d walked off so smug that night and you yourself had nothing to brag about, left to accept the fact that you needed him. had missed him.

and he knew it.

so maybe you were tactical, every day the dresses got shorter. bikini’s got smaller. you wanted to see him squirm.

which was easy.

it was ridiculous, how often you felt his gaze burning into you; feeling the heat on your skin from such thing. you’d blame the hot summer sun for the the constant blush on your cheeks but in reality it was him.

made to feel better by the way his jaw was constantly clenched. hands fiddling with one another. leg bouncing impatiently because he was furious with the fact you were no longer his, he couldn’t whisk you away and tear your clothes off like he wanted too.

left to simply stare. dwell on the facts. wish that he somehow gets a moment alone with you again.

there were sliding doors.

two minutes alone underneath the cabin on a boat, both trying to find something to drink. he swore you were about to kiss him before max came bouncing down the stairs.

you’d all gone out one night, somehow it was only you two left at the bar. lando was convinced this was it, he was going to drag you off to the bathroom.

but then arabella appeared, demanding shots.

you’d never admit that you went out to the kitchen most nights, hoping he too would be awake at such ridiculous hour again.

you tried not to get frustrated, even with the knowledge there was only a couple days till you’d be flying back home to reality.

finally however, you got lucky.

lando had gone on a run; unbeknownst to you, who had slept in.

you rejected plans of going to a winery, choosing for a day by the pool to save energy to go out tonight like planned.

your group of friends had attempted to protest your decision, but you insisted. bribed them with a promise you would do some baking while they were out.

that’s where lando found you.

stood in the kitchen. of course.

tiny bikini. typical.

and no one else in sight. lovely.

“smells fucking amazing.” lando hummed; slightly breathless as he sauntered into the kitchen, moving to stand against the island ━ a safe distance between the pair of you.

the voice had startled you, jumping slightly as you turned around.

you smiled appreciatively at his words, attempting to not stare at his exposed torso. tanned skin, beads of sweat decorating it. his muscles only more prominent as he crossed his arms, flexing invitingly.

“would feel bad letting such a big kitchen go to waste,” you explained; shrugging ever so slightly as your eyes returned to the chocolate chip cookies you were currently making. refuge from the sight of him.

he chuckled, and nodded; not that you saw. but his eyes didn’t leave you.

he should go up to his room.

“who’s home?” he couldn’t help but ask, feet planted. he wasn’t going anywhere.

the question had you facing what you were trying to ignore; the fact it was just the pair of you. it was dangerous knowledge.

“just us,” you spoke through a breath. if the tension wasn’t clear before, those two words had it falling upon the pair of you like bricks.

lando nodded once more, lips pursing. you were so tempting. this was what he’d been hoping for. he was impressed he even had the mental strength to consider running off. hiding in his room till your friends returned.

that idea didn’t last long though. moving towards you, you heard him approaching; his presence was demanding.

he was behind you, causing you to freeze. breath stuck in your throat.

“you’re driving me crazy.” he’d whispered, despite no fear of anyone overhearing; and you had to shut your eyes for a brief moment when his lips grazed your ear, ensuring you knew just how in reach he was.

you found some solace in his words, confirming your suspicions. reassuring to know you weren’t the only one going crazy. the only one feeling nostalgic.

“how so?” you played dumb, bottom lip rolling through your teeth ━ regardless your head tilted aside as his lips grazed your skin again, his breath fanning your skin.

you heard him grunt, and it would’ve made you giggle if you weren’t fighting off the urge to jump his bones.

“don’t act like it’s not on purpose.” lando huffed, hands moving to play with the fiddling strings of your bikini, fingertips only just brushing your skin.

you had to draw in another breath, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. you needed some sort of power, just a physical reminder that he too was struggling despite his admission.

so you turned on your feet, eyes flickering up to his as you shrugged your shoulders; breaths slightly irregular from the closeness. right in front of you. trapping you against the counter.

“know you haven’t forgotten that all you need to do is use your words if you want me to fuck you,” lando spoke before you could, oozing cockiness despite his wandering eyes and tense jaw; his patience wearing thin.

once more you were cornered in the kitchen by his attractive frame and blunt words that had your thighs squeezing together.

“goes both ways,” you chimed; worried if you didn’t speak now you wouldn’t get a word in. you knew how this went; it was only a matter of time till you were a mess in his hands.

his eyebrows raised, he even scoffed; if he wasn’t so eager for you to go on he would’ve reminded you it didn’t.

lando always had a kink for making you beg.

“i already got what i wanted,” you hummed; hands moving to rest on his toned abdomen, running down and across the muscles before finding the waistband of his joggers. “something you want?”

your teasing tone had lando remembering just how worked up you got him, how frustrating and almost annoying you were. how annoying it was to deal with your antics that was.

“the other night was more than enough for me baby,” lando mused; not cracking, even with your hands on his body. “always look so pretty when you cum.”

you wish his words didn’t have such a visible effect on you. how flustered you got clear by the way the blood rushed to your cheeks, even while you stood here playing with the waistband of his pants.

it was pathetic; neither of you wanting to crack first, wasting precious time because you both really thought you were above this.

able to be friends. exes who wouldn’t go back to each other.

you knew he wasn’t entirely lying; of course you could remember how you were gifted a man who got off from getting you off. how he’d spent nights with his head just buried between your thighs. making you cum countless of times before he got his dick wet.

“cold shower treat you well?” you huffed; not letting him get away with such thing. as if he wasn’t standing here with the need to fuck you.

he smirked at your words, your attitude more so; the playful banter having been something he’d missed. something that wasn’t the same since things became platonic.

“did the job.” he laughed, hands still ghosting over your hips. “jealous i can still get myself off?” he couldn’t help but chuckle; and your jaw dropped at him using confidential information against you.

your hands still on his stomach, whacking lightly which he only chuckled harder at; and if you weren’t embarrassed you’d be taking in the way the smile was lighting up his face.

“that was not something you’re meant to use against me,” you practically grumbled; eyes narrowing up at him and he practically awed at the sight, adoring eyes and all as his hand moved to cup your cheek. his grin not matching the sympathetic eyes.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled jokingly as he leant forward; not giving you time to reply as he put the both of you out of your misery, lips connecting with yours.

it wasn’t what you’d both expected, the kiss to finally ease the tension that had been building ever since a few nights ago in the same spot; the kiss was slow. passionate and deep, but not rushed.

it didn’t last long; but was nice in the moment however. to feel him.

the urge to feel more however was soon too prominent.

your hands that had linked behind his neck soon tangled in his hair. the grip he had on your waist soon moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh within his hold which had you leaning into him.

he lazily dragged you back with him, his back hitting the kitchen island as he practically held you against his body; lips moving in sync.

you felt his hard on with the movement, contained by his joggers; your own excitement jumping as your hands left his hair to snake down between your bodies; palming him.

the groan against your lips only motivated you; and while you wish you could do what he does, stand here and tease him; you were too keen to get your hands on him. to hear more of those pretty sounds he makes.

so you simply smiled up at him as you pulled away; bending down and settling on your knees; hands tugging his pants and underwear down with you; revealing his cock.

his breaths were a lot heavier as he watched you, leaning back against the counter ever so slightly, gaze fixed downwards as a small smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth.

he hissed as your small hand wrapped around him; thumb swirling the precum ━ you loving every bit of knowing how turned you got him from just a few words and the sight of you.

he wouldn’t ever deny it either; no one did it for him like you did.

“look so pretty on your knees,” lando praised; eager to gain back some control, despite knowing he’d do anything you asked of him right now; your hand feeling much than his did the other night.

you were eager to continue to please, so you didn’t waste any time in taking him in your mouth. it was as if he knew such thing, by the way his eyes were peering down at you.

his head fell back at the sensation, one he’d missed ━ arms flexing as he gripped the counter; a few curses strung together tumbling from his lips as you practically took him in whole first go.

his tip hitting the back of your throat did little to deter you. it was natural, as if you’d done such thing only a few days ago; not months ━ second nature as your tongue swirled his cock.

your eyes remained up, looking through your lashes as your head bobbed ━ knees uncomfortably shifting against the tiles but it was the last thing on your mind with the beautiful man above you.

taking in the way his abs flexed, neck strained and lips parted as you sucked him off ━ gagging occasionally but both of you knew that was no issue.

“missed this fucking mouth,” lando grunted, hand moving to tangle in your hair; both to keep it out of your way and to just have some sort of hold on you.

he was blindsided with pleasure, more than he remembered he’d be. your bikini did little to leave much to the imagination from his angle, watching as your breasts bounced with every movement. matched with your doe eyes, his jaw was slack.

you hummed as he tugged your hair lightly, the sensation one you always welcomed; and he too was reminded of such as he felt the vibrations around him. tugging again with a little more force.

his groans were gradually becoming more regular, hips bucking once or twice ━ pushing his cock further down your throat each time.

“just like that baby, always so good for me,” lando breathed, eyes screwing such momentarily as his head fell back once more.

you almost whined at the vision, wanting to scramble to your feet and kiss at his skin, feel all over him.

and he’d be happy to let you, he was hesitant in having you get him off first regardless; you hadn’t left much room for argument with good reason.

but right now he had no complaints, moans growing slightly louder in volume ━ grip tightening on the strands of your hair. he didn’t give you any warning as he came, but you didn’t need any.

the way he twitched in your mouth, you didn’t miss a beat ━ swallowing all you could; revelling in the way your name left his lips.

your mouth left him with a pop, gazing up at him to meet his adoring eyes, staring down at you as if you were the greatest thing to grace the earth.

because he did think of you as such. you continued to amaze him, he didn’t grow immune to such thing; just had managed to avoid the fact for a while now.

you stood to your feet, relieving your knees of the discomfort; a coy smile plastered on your lips at him panting and flustered.

you felt even, for the other night; reassured you weren’t the only one in need.

lando couldn’t complain either, couldn’t throw a playful comment towards you ━ not when you stood there with messy hair and swollen lips. all he could think about was turning you into a whiny mess, desperate to have you at his mercy again.

it was clear neither of you knew what to say in the few moments of silence; shamelessly admiring the other, catching your breaths. it wasn’t awkward however.

you were happy to feel his lips on yours once more ━ his hands not shy in wandering your body this time, sliding down to your thighs and hoisting you up immediately.

he was swift in turning around and placing you on the counter, stood between your legs as he hummed against your lips.

it wasn’t until his mouth ducked to your neck, then your collar bones, becoming harder to ignore as your head fell back, growing hot from the kisses he placed where-ever he could, that you spoke up.

“should go to your room,” you managed to get out, watching him through hooded eyes as he simply grabbed the material of your bikini to let your breasts fall free, kissing at the skin of them afterwards.

it wasn’t that you were worried on being walked in on, you had the house to yourselves for at least a couple more hours. you knew that. more so just the knowledge this wasn’t your house.

his eyebrows raised as he looked back up at you, hand sprawling over your stomach as he pushed you back slightly; your body blindly following the suggestion as you leant back on your hands.

“i paid for this villa baby, if i wanna fuck you on the counter i will,” lando murmured, hands spreading your thighs further apart; putting you in no position to argue you.

how could you? his words sounded like a promise, one you could only hope he would keep.

you nodded pathetically, suddenly aware of his hands resting high up on your inner thighs; suddenly aware of your own arousal and need for him.

he discarded of your bikini bottoms with ease, admiring your frame for a few moments as his hand reached to squeeze your breast, nipple rolling through his fingers moments later.

“lando,” you breathed; almost in warning, almost a whine. your legs were still spread and you were already resisting the urge to squirm. your patience non existent.

he only grinned, a slight chuckle maybe as his hands pushed your legs further apart once more.

“i got you baby,” lando hummed. “always so needy for me, you need me yeah? don’t you?” he spoke teasingly, tone painfully sweet as his fingers traced over your soaked folds.

you wanted to curse his obvious teasing, point out how you hadn’t been so cruel. but you knew it’d be no use.

you were scared to admit such thing, huffing as your hips bucked upwards momentarily.

“want to hear you say it.” lando grunted when he realised you weren’t planning on speaking; pinching your clit to get his point across, a strangled moan escaping you as your lips parted, falling into submission.

“need you.” you whined almost shamefully, head falling back as if the ceiling would offer you refuge from his hard stare. “please,”

your pleas were always music to his ears, so much so he debated with the idea of teasing you some more; to draw more whines and please out of you. but the way you were spread for him, so ready; he couldn’t help himself any longer.

you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your clit, sucking at your sensitive bud; not expecting such feeling as your eyes rolled back.

his hands manoeuvred your thighs to place your legs over his shoulders; giving him full access to your core as sweet moans started to escape you.

“o-oh my god,” you whimpered; eyes flickering to the sight of his head between your thighs ━ back arching as his tongue swiped through your folds, assaulting your cunt relentlessly as if he was starved.

you’d been reminded of how good his fingers were; so much so you hadn’t even considered getting his tongue again.

his large hands were squeezing your thighs, a bruising grip to keep you in place; eating you out expertly.

“lando━ feels so good,” you moaned as if that wasn’t clear by the way your hips were pushing against his hold. your right hand left the counter, moving to tangle in his curls, something to grab.

his blue eyes ventured to the sight of you momentarily, and he groaned into your cunt as he took note of the way your face was contorting in pleasure, how your body flinched with every move he made.

whimpers and moans were free falling, lando enjoying every single one ━ glad you could be as loud as you wanted, as loud as he made you.

you knew you were approaching your high shamefully fast, but had little room to care when you’d failed to reach it so much recently.

lando knew your body too well, could tell by the way you were tugging on his curls and creating more force against the hold he had on your thighs that you were about to cum.

he wanted you to let go, tongue flicking and nose bumping your clit ━ you orgasmed hard, suddenly; cumming on his tongue with what almost sounded like a squeal.

he didn’t stop, letting you ride out your high ━ before pulling away, wiping at the corners of his mouth.

you were mistaken however in thinking you would have time to catch your breath, not getting a word out before lando was moving only one leg off his shoulder and sliding two fingers into your entrance suddenly; thumb landing on your sensitive clit.

your body almost didn’t know how to react, falling back onto your hands that found the counter you sat upon once more to stabilise yourself.

“s’ too much,” you whimpered ━ legs attempting to squeeze shut, failing with the angle caused by one leg draped over lando’s shoulder, which allowed his fingers to hit deep within you.

lando hummed in amusement, knowing how much you could take. knowing you always said that, just to whine and cry out if he were to stop.

“too much?” he mocked; fingers curling and your body jerking. “want me to stop?” he breathed; smirking oh so cockily because he knew the answer. chuckling as you shook your head ‘no’ incredibly quickly.

“didn’t think so,” he huffed; thumb speeding up on your clit, rolling over the bud continuously. it was pure ecstasy, the overstimulation overwhelming your entire body.

his breaths were heavy as he admired you, the way you were shaking beneath him. reminiscent of how easily he could you like this, of the nights he made you cum four or five times before fucking you.

it killed him he didn’t have the time to do so again. but he couldn’t possibly complain right now.

“making a mess baby, all over my fingers,” lando spoke; the filthy sounds of his fingers moving in out of you filling the room, and you weren’t sure you’d last much longer when he entered a third. “so greedy. gonna cum again aren’t you?”

it was like he was three steps ahead of your body, leaving you to whine and nod pathetically.

“yeah? that what you want? to cum again?” lando spoke once more; watching as your head fell back, your eyes screwing shut and it satisfied him to see you feel the pleasure he was giving.

he was hard again, purely from his name sounding so fucking incredible as you moaned and moaned, from the perfection you were.

his hand grasping your cheek had your eyes flying open as lando tilted your head forwards to look at him, eyebrows raised in expectance.

“words pretty girl,” lando reminded, chin still between his thumb and index finger ━ struggling to focus on him with the numbing pleasure that was causing tears to form.

you nodded, before processing what he’d said. words. right.

“please lando,” you gasped; eyes pouring into his, pleading with his as your back arched and legs shook. you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself. “gonna cum,” you whined.

lando felt it had been far too long to be cruel, so he simply hummed in appreciation; smiling lazily as he pushed you over the edge as he curled his fingers once more.

your vision went white, screaming his name as you came again, all over his fingers.

lando’s bottom lip rolled through his teeth at the sight, able to take in every moment, no restraint for either of you and it felt fucking amazing.

his hands gently moved your leg off his shoulder, stood between them as his hands massaged your thighs comfortingly, giving you a few moments to come down and catch your breath.

your eyes fluttered open, and immediately you were smiling stupidly at the sight of lando; his own grin mirroring yours as he hummed quietly.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered; unable to stop the compliment from escaping him, and your smile only grew; knowing you’d disagree if you caught sight of your tangled hair and flushed cheeks. 

it had your stomach flipping, men compliment you all the time. only lando would gain such a reaction.

“got another one in you?” his question was gentle; the sparkle in his eye daring, and you had no hesitation in nodding.

“need you inside me,” you mumbled, causing the driver’s smirk to return to its rightful place ━ glad your wants were shared.

you may have gone a long time without, but your stamina hadn’t faulted.

lando was tugging you to the edge of the counter at that, and you easily got lost in the kiss that he placed upon your lips; rough and messy as you melted into his hold.

it’d caught you by surprise, when he tugged you down onto your feet, spun your round and bent you over the marble surface; a gasp escaping you.

“missed you so much,” lando sighed; ushering your legs apart as your breath hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to focus on, his words, your position or the feeling of his hands on your ass.

the confession wasn’t one you’d hold onto, you knew better than to cling to words uttered during sex. but god it felt great to hear.

“missed you too,” you assured him back, moan slipping past your lips as you felt his tip press against your folds; but he made no further movements.

your hips shook slightly, attempting to entice him ━ so needy despite having cum twice already. you just wanted him. all of him.

his hand moved up your back, tangling in your hair and creating a makeshift pony tail ━ one he tugged on immediately, your head snapping up.

“what did i say earlier? about using your words?” lando leant forward, lips grazing your ear; cock pressed against your entrance, causing you to cry out.

your body was overstimulated, tired; tired of his teasing. out of practice to predict his wants.

“want you to fuck me,” you whined quickly, rushing your words out as your hips pressed backwards. “need you lan, please,” you whimpered; sounding oh so desperate lando couldn’t possibly deny you.

he entered you without any more warning, bottoming out as your walls wrapped around him; your gasps intertwining as you gripped the counter below you.

the cool surface against your front did little to cool you down, moaning at the feeling of being so full. full of him again, after so long.

too long.

“always take me so well,” lando grunted in your ear; giving you a few moments to adjust before he was dropping your hair and standing up straight ━ hands finding your hips now.

his thrusts were harsh, rough and deep; not too slow or too fast, ensuring you felt every inch of him as your aching cunt squeezed him.

every move had your body jolting, moans escaping you; the counter and lando the only reason your legs were able to stay upright.

“so-so good,” you stumbled out, eyes rolling back as your body fell limp, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling. what you’d been deprived of and craving.

the driver too was losing himself in the feeling, head thrown back as he moved in and out of you ━ sounds of skin slapping filling up the large and empty space.

it was a mutual feeling, as to why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. how on earth you two had been in such close proximity throughout the months and not gotten to this point yet.

safe to say keeping your distance now would be difficult.

lando felt the need to be closer, as if he needed more of you despite having you already at his mercy.

his hand found your neck with ease, wrapping around your throat and guiding your head up ━ causing you to stand up right, back against his chest.

he didn’t apply pressure, yet, but just the feeling of his large hand wrapped around the base of your neck had your legs feeling weaker; split open on his cock meaning lando’s body was the only thing holding you up now.

“feel good?” lando’s question was just him chasing praise, knowing you were fucked stupid; but he couldn’t help but want to remind you just who was the reason you could barely form sentences.

you nodded as much as you could in his hold. always nodding, he could ask or say anything and you’d find a way to say yes.

“only i can make you feel this good hm? only i can make you cum?” lando didn’t stop running his mouth, basking in the fact it was him that had the tears spilling out of your eyes. a sense of pride washing over him.

you choked out a yes, his thrusts having only gotten faster ━ and when his hand applied pressure to your neck you were almost certain you were in heaven.

“so perfect, so fucking perfect for me baby,” lando grunted in praise; and the kiss he pressed to your shoulder blade was a vast contrast to the treatment of your cunt.

it really was too much, the few tears and whimpers made that clear to lando; you were only moments away from cumming again and the thought alone had his own high dawning on him.

“come on angel, cum on my cock. cum for me,” he was speaking in your ear again; and you practically screamed as your third orgasm hit ━ body falling limp in his hold.

the way your walls squeezed him had him cumming with you, groaning as his forehead rested on your shoulder ━ erratic breaths filling the room as he stilled inside you.

all his touches were suddenly delicate, pulling out of you as he moved you to lean against the counter, still holding you up slightly as you caught your breath.

it was a comfortable silence, his hands ghosting over your waist as you pressed your eyes shut for a few moments.

you’d expected some sort of regret. an immediate now what? for one of you to panic or flee.

but instead, neither of you wanted the moment to end.

“want to join me for a shower?” lando broke the silence, a half smile that had you feeling an odd sense of relief.

one he felt too when you smiled right back, and nodded in agreement.

he’d chuckled, you would even go as far as to say he was grinning; hands grasping your thighs and picking you up with ease, carrying you off towards the bathroom.

when your friends returned you had been on the sofa, lando out by the pool ━ strategically placed to avoid suspicion, already under the assumption someone would’ve brought up the fact it happened to be you two who stayed back today.

chatter filled the room immediately, lando trudging in to greet everyone. you having stayed seated, purely because you didn’t trust your legs.

“burnt cookies y/n?” max had spoke across the room; having been first to stumble upon the overdone batch sat on the kitchen island you’d spent the last 15 minutes sanitising.

your cheeks flushed, purely because you could sense lando’s eyes burning into you.

you could picture the cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“yeah. my bad,” you laughed sheepishly.

and you were glad to be the only one paying attention when lando passed the back of the couch, finger grazing your shoulder as he did so.

“my bad,” he corrected; your eyes meeting his smug ones in passing.

━━

a/n: did y’all miss my shitty endings???

anyways idk what this is but here it is

unedited atm so apologies xox

as always appreciate feedback so so much, love u all and hope u enjoy 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼