#I don’t even had threads but I see them on instagram

[vampiredungeon]

Everything single threads post is some shit like “Evil Karen Calls Me Every Slur But Is Immediately Ashamed After I Reveal To Her: I Had My Tonsils Removed Last Week” or “I Am So Disappointed By The Treatment Of Grecian Bisexuals From The Pink Fluffy Puppy Fandom”

[fxstpace]

oh, snap!

summary: you and jake sim might have been best friends once upon a time, but not anymore. now, you barely talk to each other—so you decide to prove the universe wrong when you find out that he’s your soulmate, because there’s no way both of you are compatible.

pairing: jake sim x fem!reader genres: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers!au, soulmate!au, college!au word count: 7.0k

↳ warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual jokes, soulmate lore i made up ↳ a/n: this is a fic i had posted on my now deactivated blog, which i’ve made minor modifications to. thanks for reading!

The universe has to be fucking with you.

You aren’t one to believe in manifestation or the law of attraction or whatever other nonsense your TikTok feed provides you with. You think it’s a total waste of time, energy, and resources. 

Right now, however, you’re manifesting with all your might—eyes screwed tightly shut, hands clasped in front of your chest, only one thought running through your head: Please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be—

You open one eye cautiously. You lift up the pinkie finger of your right hand equally carefully. 

Fuck.

You drop your hands and let your head fall onto the desk in front of you. A dull thud echoes around you, and normally, you would be apologetic since you’re at the library, but because you’re wallowing in self-pity you can’t bring yourself to care. A frown mars your forehead. Maybe you’re manifesting wrong. Is that even a thing? Perhaps you should ask your friend Yizhou how to do it; she’s pretty popular on Instagram so surely she’d have some idea. Maybe one of her fellow influencer friends is a manifester. (Is that what they call it?)

You lift your head up and stare morosely at the red thread twined around your little finger. It winds down the floor, swirling and looping in gentle curves. You glare at the person it’s connected to.

Jake Sim, that little piece of shit.

The object of your disdain is seated one table away from yours. He’s hunched over his laptop, occasionally scribbling something into the messy notebook in front of him. His glasses keep slipping down the bridge of his nose, and every time he pushes them back up, you feel a tug on your finger. 

This brings you to the following question: Does he not know you’re his soulmate?

You have three answers. One: He knows, but he doesn’t care. Two: He doesn’t know. Three: He doesn’t care.

The second option is rare but not unheard of. There have been several cases where people vehemently deny the existence of soulmates and refuse to believe in it. Such people never get to see the red thread that is wrapped around their finger, even though it exists. Truthfully, you feel bad for the people on the other side of the thread—the non-believer’s alleged soulmate. They will forever watch from afar, never going too close, but never straying away either. It sounds lonely, more than anything else. 

You push that thought away. If Jake doesn’t know, it should be a good thing, right? You don’t need a soulmate to survive. You can just continue with your life as it is—attending classes, hanging out with your friends… Yeah, you’re happy with everything you have.

Another tug at your pinkie forces out an annoyed huff from your mouth. You glare at the perpetrator, still engrossed in his work. To be fair, you didn’t know Jake was your soulmate until very recently either. You knew the thread existed but didn’t know who it was connected to. When you were younger, you and your friends would have tons of fun pulling at the thread to annoy your unknown soulmate. Getting a pull back was a source of glee for seven-year-old you. Now, it just fills you with dread.

“Oi.” Someone’s breath tickles your ear.

“Fucking hell!” 

You swat at your best friend’s face, successfully smacking his cheek. Taehyun grunts in pain. “Uncalled for.”

“What the fuck, Taehyun?” You grouse. “Don’t scare me like that. Sorry ‘bout your cheek.”

The boy rolls his eyes, sitting down on the chair next to you and dumping his tote bag on the table. “I’d feel better if you actually meant your apology. Also, why aren’t you studying? Our midterms start in a week and staring at Lover Boy isn’t gonna help you pass your classes.”

“Don’t call him that,” you snap. “And I was… studying.”

“Right. That’s exactly why none of your books are open.”

“Shut up, people are staring.”

Taehyun raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment. You’re not wrong—people are staring. Well, specifically, one person. You flex your little finger a little, straightening it out and then bending it again. If Jake feels any sort of yank, he doesn’t show it. Not that you’re interested, of course. You’re just… observing. So is he, clearly. He peers over his glasses at you both, his expression not betraying anything.

You flinch when Taehyun pinches your side. Turning back to him, you’re ready to yell at him for being an annoying asshole, when he fixes you with a pitying sort of look. You swallow.

“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t overthink, okay? He’s alone right now, you might as well talk to him about this.”

You blink uneasily, eyes flitting between your friend and the unopened book in front of you.

“How long are you gonna avoid him? You’ve been hiding this for months. And… he has a right to know,” Taehyun finishes, flicking a strand of hair out of his eyes.

You swallow again, around the lump in your throat that’s been sitting there for months. You found out that Jake was your soulmate months ago. Yet, you can’t seem to bring yourself to confront him or tell him about it. A far cry from the whole entire concept of soulmates—isn’t he supposed to be your missing puzzle piece? Certainly not, if you’re too nervous to even approach him. The universe must have made a mistake. Whatever higher being exists must have assigned you to the wrong person.

Taehyun is right, though. (You’re not going to admit it to him, of course; there’s no need to boost his already inflated ego.)

Jake Sim does have a right to know that he’s your soulmate. 

You shift uncomfortably. Taehyun drops his gaze with a sigh. “I know you two have a history but can’t you just sort this out?”

“I… can’t,” you say lamely. 

Your best friend looks sadly at you. You look away, fidgeting with the cover of your textbook. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a girl make her way to Jake’s table. He perks up immediately, greeting her with a soft smile. She sits down next to him and grabs Jake’s laptop, angling it towards her like it’s second nature. It probably is, you think bitterly.

Another reason why you can’t tell Jake Sim about this whole Situation: He has a girlfriend.

Park Chaerin meets your eyes and waves at you cheerfully. You wave back, feeling sick to your stomach.

You press the tip of your pen into your notebook, fighting the urge to close your eyes. Even the half-empty cup of coffee next to your laptop has done little to wake you up. Morning classes are the bane of your existence, and as a night owl, you vehemently dislike getting up early. Your professor rattles on about an assignment due in a week. You stifle another yawn behind your hand.

Feeling a yank on your little finger, you press the palm of your hand on the desk and ignore it. Jake Sim is sitting right next to you—courtesy of both of you having arrived five minutes late, and the only seats left were in the last row. Your Friday 8 AM lecture on the Quantum Theory of Electromagnetism is normally interesting, but Professor Jang makes even the most stimulating topics seem dry. You usually end up resorting to self-study sessions in order to understand everything. 

Jake is scribbling something next to you. He’s probably doodling. He used to do that a lot when he was little, too. You recall pages upon pages of maths notes interspersed with tiny drawings of dinosaurs and dragons in the margins. They had made you laugh at the time. 

“Hey,” he whispers.

You blink.

“Hi,” you say.

Jake grins at you—and you’re dazzled, for a moment. It’s been so long since you’ve had that smile of his being directed at you. You’ve seen him smile at other people on campus—his new friends, his girlfriend, acquaintances—all from afar, and you push down the bitter sting of rejection that pricks you every time. After so many months, it feels like you were in a pitch-black room all this time, and someone suddenly turned on the lights. It’s blinding.

Your former friend caps his pen and leans back in his chair. “Did you get enough sleep?”

“Um, yeah,” you answer. Just to be polite, you add, “...Did you?”

“Kind of.” Jake winces.

“Oh.”

“I was trying to understand the topic before this. Y’know—” he meets your eyes expectantly— “the whole Kronig-Penney model and the Bloch function and all that. I spent, like, two hours on them,” he says sheepishly.

“Oh, uh, yeah, those are kinda difficult,” you offer.

You’re still perplexed by this whole situation. Admittedly, after weeks of minimal contact with your childhood best friend, this isn’t how you imagined your reunion would go. All awkwardness aside, however, it feels… nice, talking to him again. It’s hard to move past the last few months, but there’s nothing wrong with this, right? You can think of it as two classmates bonding over a hard course they willingly chose. Two classmates who’ve known each other since they were toddlers just learning to walk, but you deliberately don’t think of that.

Jake hums. “The graphs get super confusing.”

“I guess,” you say. 

He leans forward abruptly, elbows knocking on the edge of the desk. His stare on you is intent, focused. “Is your number still the same?”

You gape at him, mouth open like a blown-out fish. “Uh… yeah. Why?”

“So I can text you if I don’t understand anything,” Jake says simply, easily, still sporting that same easygoing smile of his. Your stomach twists into knots, and you force yourself to appear calm and not like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I think you should’ve asked me first,” you manage to say.

He looks at you strangely, a dip in his eyebrows. “Why would I do that?”

Why, indeed.

Jake has known you for years; this is an undeniable fact. Even now, he probably knows you better than anyone else does—or ever could. So there’s absolutely no way he can’t make sense of the stifling awkwardness that surrounds you both.

However, the same holds true for you: You know Jake Sim just as well as he knows you. You know he’s trying to bridge a gap, make amends in a way only he does. You would be a fool if you didn’t take it in stride.

You crack a small smile. “Fair enough.”

He picks up his pen and twirls it between his fingers idly, before saying, “I’ll text you about other stuff, too.”

“Okay.”

“Great.”

Jake is all smiles and sunshine. He starts doodling again—what looks like a misshapen traffic cone of some sort. You look away, and tuck this little slice of goldenness into your rapidly rabbiting heart. 

This is not good. You pay no heed to the thread around your little finger, and pick up your own pen. Angling your notebook away from your deskmate, you begin to write.

REASONS WHY JAKE SIM CANNOT BE MY SOULMATE FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT

#1. he doesn’t know you as well as he should (okay, maybe he does)

You have no clue how you ended up studying with Jake Sim and Park Chaerin, of all people.

Your own friends, Kang Taehyun and Kim Gaeul are utterly nonplussed at this new situation. You give them a helpless shrug when they elbow each other and raise their eyebrows at you. The library is fairly empty at this hour, which makes it an ideal time to study without the distractions of other people. Of course, you didn’t consider the two people who’ve decided you’re a physics expert and require your guidance.

You humour them because you’re a nice person—not because you’re weak to Jake’s entreaties and his offer of buying you food for a whole week.

Chaerin smiles at your friends. “Hey, guys! Come join us.”

Taehyun is the first to blink out of his confusion. He moves forward, pulling out the chair opposite yours and settling down. “Thanks. We won’t bother you guys much.”

Gaeul nods her head. “Yeah, I have a bunch of assignments to finish.” She chuckles nervously, smoothing out her hair.

“No problem,” Jake supplies. “Your friend is super smart.”

Taehyun raises his eyebrows, pointing an incredulous finger at you. “You mean…?”

“Hey!” You swing your leg and kick Taehyun’s shin from under the table. He winces in pain. Gaeul giggles, and so does Chaerin. Jake lets out an amused snort.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” you say, “this bit isn’t that important from a test point of view, so just go over it to get the general idea.” You mark the paragraph you were referring to with a pencil.

Chaerin and Jake nod in tandem, like a pair of bobbleheads. You bite your lip to stifle your smile—they’re so perfect together, it’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t be surprised if Jake’s end of the string was connected to Chaerin’s instead. Is that even possible? You’ll have to google it up.

The thought puts a significant damper on your mood, and you turn away, drawing back from the pair sitting next to you. 

Instead, you lock eyes with Taehyun, who’s glaring at you with enough intensity to drill a hole through your forehead. Talk to him, he mouths. You give him a small shake of your head.

You can’t talk to him about anything serious. Explaining physics to him and his girlfriend in the presence of your own best friends is a sort of safe zone; you don’t have to discuss anything personal whatsoever. All you have to do is prattle off a list of formulae and derivations and graphs, and hope that what you’re telling them to study is actually going to be asked on your midterm next week.

Taehyun rolls his eyes so hard, you wonder how they haven’t popped out of their sockets. He’s exasperated, you can tell—and Gaeul has probably been receiving the brunt of it all, because he would never outrightly say he’s upset with you. He would rant to Gaeul instead, trusting that she would tell you everything he told her but more nicely. That’s how your little trio circles back to each other.

You shift uncomfortably. Gaeul catches your eye and gives you a small, sympathetic smile. Your lips twitch upwards slightly.

“Wow,” Chaerin says, “I can’t believe we finished a whole unit in, like, one and a half hours.” She directs the next part to you. “You’re really smart. Don’t listen to Taehyun.”

“Y/N doesn’t listen to me anyway,” your friend grumbles. Gaeul hides her snort behind her styrofoam cup of coffee.

Speaking of which, you could really use some caffeine too. Anything to get away from Jake Sim and his quiet, knowing… aura, is the word you settle for. He wasn’t always this quiet—he used to be loud and raucous when it was just the two of you in high school—so while this new development isn’t surprising, it certainly is jarring.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” you announce to the table at large. “Anyone wanna come with?”

“I’ll come,” Jake says immediately. “I owe you for teaching us.”

“Oh, um.” You attempt to smile. “I—”

“Please go,” Taehyun says suddenly, his tone beseeching. “I need coffee too but I don’t trust Y/N to not put salt in mine or something.”

You gape at him, betrayal flooding your features. Gaeul snorts again. Chaerin just looks at you and Jake alternately. Jake’s lips twitch upwards. “Y/N still does that?”

You whirl around to face him. “What?”

“Oh, this is getting interesting,” Gaeul pipes up. “Do elaborate.”

“I second that,” Chaerin adds. 

You feel your cheeks and the back of your neck heat up. You want to implore your former best friend to keep his pretty mouth shut, but your ego doesn’t let you grovel in front of three other people. Jake raises his eyebrows, lips parting to form a small ‘o’. He smiles, a little bit sheepish. Before he can say anything, you intervene.

“That was one time, Taehyun!” you snap. “And it was by accident. Why would I willingly put salt in your coffee?”

Taehyun raises an eyebrow at you, but inside, you know he’s laughing uncontrollably at your predicament. “Who knows? You might wanna poison me for being cooler than you.”

“What is this, high school? And why the fuck would I want a murder on my hands? I’m too young to go to jail.”

Chaerin tries to muffle her giggles with her hand. Both you and Taehyun turn simultaneously to look at her. “Sorry.” She giggles again. “You two talk like an old married couple.”

“Gross,” you say, at the same time Taehyun draws out an, “Ew,” and extends the last syllable like a child in kindergarten.

“Oh my God,” Gaeul says. “Chaerin, you’re a genius. I see it too.”

“Not you too,” Taehyun groans.

The two begin bickering again, and Chaerin joins them with enthusiasm, adding her own little tidbits of support for Gaeul in between the conversation. During all this, Jake remains remarkably quiet, an amused smile tugging on his lips. 

You turn to him, a rush of sudden embarrassment making your cheeks heat up. It occurs to you that he’s never seen you like this—laughing and joking around with your friends. Friends that don’t include him. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Let’s go get coffee.”

“Okay.” 

You and Jake push your chairs back under the table and exit the library. The coffee shop is two storeys down, so you make a beeline for the staircase. Your former best friend follows you, his undone shoelaces slapping on the tiles. He still doesn’t tie his shoelaces properly, then. Perhaps he hasn’t changed as much as you thought.

“Hey, by the way,” he says, “I was gonna tell Taehyun about the time I put salt in your coffee.”

“...I know.” Your answer is short, clipped. You force your shoulders to relax—there’s no need to tense up when Jake Sim is around.

“Oh. Uh, okay then.” 

You don’t look at him, but you’re fairly certain he’s doing that thing he always does when he’s feeling awkward: A little rub of his thumb against the corner of his mouth. It’s a tic he’s always had, from the time you were in elementary school, and it isn’t any different now.

A stifling silence falls upon you both. You almost wish Taehyun and Gaeul were here, bringing Chaerin with them in tow. The three of them seemed to get along well; the chances of the five of you hanging out outside of college are high, now.

Of course, that also means you and Jake will have to pretend like everything’s alright between you both, and that your decades-long friendship wasn’t shattered by one single argument.

You round the corner to the staircase and begin the descent downwards. Jake holds onto the railing on the other side. Despite everything, you think Jake is the braver one between you two. 

He breaks the silence as easily as he broke your heart, and asks:

“Do you still take your macchiato with two packets of sugar?”

“Yeah,” you say softly.

#2. he wants to be friends again (why?)

You blame Kang Taehyun for this.

Of course he had to forget to pick up the pizza from the local restaurant before coming back to his place. Of course he didn’t check the weather forecast beforehand, and even if he did, of course he didn’t tell you it was going to rain. Of fucking course he asks you to pick up the food for him because your classes only ended at 4 and the get-together to celebrate the end of midterms was at 4:30.

If you had the power, you would curse your best friend to oblivion. You grip your phone in your hand, gritting your teeth and staring down at the screen.

Group Chat: the holy trinity of dumbasses 🤡 [16:12] You: it’s fukcing pouring here and i didnt bring my car [16:12] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): *Fucking [16:13] You: yeah it’s something you’ve never done before [16:13] You: i have the pizza [16:13] You: come and pick me up or im throwing it in the dustbin. [16:14] gaeul 🤍: u shouldn’t waste food y/n >:( [16:14] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): You’re making Gaeul cry >:( [16:14] gaeul 🤍: girl what [16:15] You: aw cute [16:15] You: seriously tho [16:16] You: come pick me up [16:17] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): OK, I’m on my way [16:17] You: FUCKING FINALLY

The plastic bag with all the pizza boxes dangles off your wrist, cutting into your skin. The steps that lead to the inside of the restaurant are slick with rainwater. You open Instagram and scroll through your feed mindlessly, clicking on your classmates’ stories. 

You shiver. Rainy weather always makes the temperature drop by several degrees, and your flimsy jacket isn’t enough to drive away the chill. Forget Taehyun, maybe you should’ve checked the forecast instead. Sometimes (read: most of the time) you can be just as stupid as him. You wonder how Gaeul puts up with the single brain cell you and Taehyun toss between each other like a hot potato.

Honestly, you just want to go somewhere where it’s dry and warm.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and it takes you a whole minute to comprehend the name that shows up on the caller ID.

Jake Sim.

Why is Jake Sim calling you?

You chew on your lip nervously before swiping your thumb up and accepting his call. Bringing your phone to your ear, you let the plastic bag sway gently. The line is silent for a few seconds, as though neither of you can comprehend the fact that you’re on a call with each other. It makes sense; this is the first time in months he’s calling you.

Finally, Jake’s voice crackles over the speaker. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I’m outside. Can you see me?”

“I, uh.” You look around quickly. The parking lot in front of you is mostly empty, a good chunk of people having escaped the rain. It’s not hard to make out the solitary figure standing outside a beaten-down Toyota, holding an umbrella aloft. “Yeah, I see you.”

“Oh, good,” he says. “Do you have an umbrella?”

“Nope. Just… pizza.”

Jake makes a noise that sounds like a warbled chuckle. “Okay, I’m coming over there.”

“...Okay.”

For some strange reason, you don’t feel like ending the call. You fumble for something to say, because it’s weird just being on a call with someone you can literally see. The tug on your little finger as he comes closer to you makes a lump form in your throat. You take a deep breath and push it down into your stomach. 

“You haven’t changed your car,” you say lightly.

Jake hums, the sound so familiar it doesn’t even surprise you until you register it. “Can’t afford a new one. Plus, it works decently.”

He strides over to you, and it’s unnecessarily sexy—the way he holds the black umbrella up with one hand and his phone to his ear with the other. You can see the speckles of rain on his grey hoodie where the raindrops bounce off the ends of the umbrella. His hair is swept to the side, lips pink with chapstick. Another yank on your pinkie finger; you clench your fist.

“Please,” you snort. “The last time I was in it, it took twenty minutes to start the engine. That was a year ago, Jake.”

He’s closer now, nearing the steps. His eyes don’t leave yours. They trace over all your features, as though he’s committing you to memory—you, with your tangled hair and tired eye bags, chapped lips and dirty sneakers. You swallow.

He puts his phone down and speaks to you directly. “I think that was the driver’s fault. But don’t worry, I can drive better now.”

You let your hand drop limply to your side. 

“Hi,” Jake says.

“Hi again,” you manage to say.

“Here, let me take that.” He reaches out for the pizza bag, but you don’t give it to him.

“It’s fine. Just… hold up the umbrella and don’t get us wet.”

Jake laughs, a short, bright sound. “I won’t.”

You step towards him, quickly slipping underneath the shelter of the umbrella above your head. It’s a tight fit—one of your shoulders pokes out, as does one of his. You grimace when your sleeve gets splattered with rain.

Jake leads the way to his ancient car, scratched and scuffed with years of use. It was his dad’s old one, a gift for him on his seventeenth birthday, one that his mom had told you about to surprise him with. It seems like a bygone history now.

“I thought Taehyun was gonna come,” you comment.

Jake looks at you strangely. “I thought you asked for me to come pick you up.”

“I… did?” You gasp at the realisation. Kang Taehyun, that fucker. “I’m sorry,” you say awkwardly. “Taehyun probably told you that I was stuck in the rain.”

“He did,” Jake confirms. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s not a problem at all.”

“Oh… okay, then.” Still, you feel guilty. Jake came all the way in the rain just because your best friend couldn’t stop being a meddling little nincompoop.

“Why wouldn’t I come?” Jake continues. His voice sounds deliberately casual. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“...Yeah. I guess.”

Jake stops near his car, fishing around in his pocket for the keys. “Look, I—I know things haven’t been the same lately, but I—” he licks his lips, another nervous tic of his— “I want you to know that I never stopped thinking of you as my best friend. Okay?”

You blink, sucking in a breath sharply. “I, um, yeah. Yeah, okay,” you say lamely.

Jake nods once, not meeting your eyes. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve found friends like Gaeul and Taehyun. They’re good people.”

“So is Chaerin,” you say. “And so is Sunghoon.”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling faintly, unlocking the door. “And so are you.”

Sometimes, you wonder if Jake also feels a pull on his little finger. If he does, does he ever wonder where it’s from? Or does he not feel it at all? You bend your finger and shuffle into the passenger side of his car. He closes the door for you before crossing over to the other side and climbing into the driver’s seat.

Whatever the case is, one thing is for sure: Jake Sim is your soulmate, and even if he wasn’t, you’d still be in love with him.

Just like you were one year ago.

#3. his parents adore you (and so do you, but there’s always the yearning and the aching)

“Hey, mom and dad are asking when you’re gonna visit again.”

Jake swings into your periphery, putting his phone back in his pocket. His mom had called about fifteen minutes ago to make plans for Jake to go home over the weekend. Potentially, you could also go—your childhood home is right next to his. It’s been a while since you last visited; your little sister sends you texts about how much she misses you.

He sits down on the chair next to yours, looking at you expectantly. You’re at your favourite spot in the library, one that’s been designated as you and your friends’ table. Jake and Chaerin have been officially integrated into your tiny trio; Gaeul and Chaerin get along really well, and Taehyun and Jake follow the same sports teams. Occasionally, their other friend, Park Sunghoon, joins you but he’s very quiet and mostly keeps to himself.

You don’t look up from your laptop screen when you answer, “I’m not sure.”

“Huh. Mom says you’ve said that to your mom every time she asks.”

Things between you and Jake have reached a semblance of normalcy, too. It’s not the same as it used to be—it can never be the same as it used to be—but at least the pang you feel in your chest whenever he talks to you has dulled somewhat. 

“I’ve been busy,” you say vaguely. 

“Oh, c’mon,” Jake retorts. “Our midterms were over a week ago. What’re you waiting for?”

You don’t reply. He waits for a moment before saying, “I could drive you.”

That gets your full attention. Your gaze snaps to him, mouth pressed together. 

“I mean, we literally live right next to each other, Y/N,” he continues. “It’ll save gas. And the environment.”

You snort. “Your car is more of a hazard to the environment than us not carpooling is.”

“You don’t know how to drive,” he deadpans.

“That’s not true! I can drive, I just choose not to. Saving the environment and all.” You point an accusing finger at him. “If you really care about the environment, you should take the bus home with me.”

Jake shrugs loosely. “I don’t care how we go home, as long as you come with me. I’m sure your sister misses you too.”

There it is again: That easy, light way he says things. Nonchalant and unaffected—though it affects you more than it should.

“You’ll pay for the tickets?” 

Jake’s grin is golden. “If that’s what it takes.”

That’s how you find yourself crammed in between Jake Sim and an old auntie with a flower-patterned bandana, on the bus back to your hometown three days later. The auntie gives you and Jake a few cookies she’d packed for her grandchildren, and then promptly falls asleep on your shoulder (Jake couldn’t stop laughing for ten minutes when he saw the line of drool she’d left on your shirt sleeve). He offers you his own shoulder in case you want to sleep too; your cheeks heat up at the thought. It’s a bumpy ride, but after stopping at the bus stop nearest to your house, Flower Auntie sends you off with a few more cookies and a box of homemade kimchi, and you and Jake begin walking back to your neighbourhood.

Some things have changed—the playground is being renovated, your old elementary school is being repainted, the Kims who owned the local ramen shop retired and set the place up for rent. But at its heart, it’s all the same, you think. Kids still run around holding warm bungeoppang from street stalls and cartons of strawberry milk from the convenience store. Their mothers sit around and gossip about celebrities and complain about their husbands. People working corporate jobs curse under their breaths about their bosses and their unforgiving schedules. It’s late in the evening when you arrive, a bag containing all of Flower Auntie’s goodies hanging off Jake’s arm. All the local eateries are opening up for the dinner rush, drawing people in with the offer of free beer and soju for every meal purchased. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jake says, a fond smile on his lips.

“Yeah,” you agree softly.

Despite everything, it’s still home.

The two of you cross the streets to your houses, sneakers slapping against the pavement. Several neighbours who’ve seen you both grow up call out and wave hello. You’re stopped by Mrs. Lee’s son, Heeseung, who makes you both promise to go out for dinner with him tomorrow. 

Finally, you stand in front of your childhood home. The rusted door and peeling-off paint greets you like a best friend. You shoulder your backpack and ring the doorbell, saying goodbye to Jake as he walks into his own house.

The door swings open—only to reveal Mrs. Sim standing at your doorway. Before you can voice your confusion, she pulls you into a tight hug, mumbling your name into your hair.

“Welcome home,” she says, moving aside and letting you in. “Your mother is in the kitchen. She’s just started making dinner.”

“Oh, okay.” You grin. “It’s great to see you, Mrs. Sim.”

“I swear you love Y/N more than me.”

You turn around and see Jake standing by the door, an affectionate look in his eyes. You direct your grin at him, too.

“Suck it up, loser.”

Jake’s guffaw rings in your ears even when your sister screams with unabashed joy as soon as she sees you.

#4. he broke your heart once (he could do it again)

You stare at the red thread wrapped around your finger. It’s dulled a bit now, compared to how it was a few years ago. Some of its shine is lost; it looks more opaque now. You crook your finger experimentally, knowing it's futile but still holding on to some hope that maybe Jake will feel it too.

To live for the hope of it all, as a wise song-writer once penned.

You startle when Jake sets a mug of coffee in front of you. His house is empty—your mother and Mrs. Sim went to buy groceries together and his father is out of the city on a business trip. Your sister is hanging out with her friends but told you to call her if you needed anything.

“Here you go,” Jake says, sitting down on the chair next to you. “Have some and then we can go buy some hangover soup.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, curling your fingers around the mug and savouring its warmth. The liquid inside is not too bitter, but not too sweet either—just how you like it.

“Feeling any better?”

You wince. Going out for dinner with Heeseung meant drinks were also attached. Being back in your hometown after weeks meant you had to check out all your favourite restaurants again and visit the ones that popped up after you left for college. The result: You swallowed down entirely too much soju, Heeseung and Jake had to physically carry you home, your head is killing you right now, and your embarrassment is at its peak.

When you woke up in the early afternoon to texts from your family members detailing their various absences, you reluctantly made your way out of your bedroom and to the Sims’ place. 

Which brings you here, perched on a chair at the Sims’ dining table, fiddling with your red string of fate, while the object of your thoughts sits right next to you.

“Yeah, a little,” you murmur in response to his question.

“Good.” Jake stretches his arms above his head, exposing a sliver of his midriff. You swallow. “Your alcohol tolerance is still the same.”

“Yours isn’t any better,” you counter. “You didn’t drink more than one bottle of soju.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You were counting?”

You huff, ignoring the warmth that spreads to your cheeks. “That’s not the point.”

“I’m just joking,” he says, bringing his hands back down. “I was kinda surprised Heeseung has a girlfriend now.”

You hum, taking another sip of your drink. Your head still pounds, but the caffeine is kicking in and making you more lively. It is strange, though, seeing your childhood friend settle down. Judging by the way he talks about her, he’s completely smitten. She’s my soulmate, he had said, and I don’t even believe in my thread.

The memory makes hurt bubble up inside your throat, so you chug the remaining liquid in the mug.

“It’s nice, though,” Jake continues, something… wistful crossing his face. “I wish I had someone like that.”

You look away, staring down at the ring of coffee left on the wooden table from your mug. “Yeah, I guess… Aren’t you dating Chaerin, though?”

You bite the bullet—what’s the point, anyway? There’s no use in dragging it out. Not when he clearly doesn’t know that his soulmate is sitting right next to him. You can deal with the hurt that comes with rejection later.

Jake stills. You glance at him—he tilts his head confusedly. “Chaerin? No… What makes you think that?”

“Everyone said you guys were dating,” you say with a small, uncertain shrug. 

“I mean…” He blinks. “We hooked up once, but that’s really it.”

It’s your turn to blink now, bemused. “Huh?”

“Yeah, we were drunk and it just sorta happened? I dunno,” he says sheepishly. “We didn’t remember any of it later, so we just agreed to remain friends. Plus, her soulmate is Sunghoon.”

“Wait, what?” Your teeth worry your bottom lip. Your mind is swirling with questions—was it possible that you had misread Jake Sim all this time?

“Yeah,” he says softly. “It’s no big deal.”

“...Oh. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed things,” you apologise quietly. Despite all this, his words make a swell of optimism rise in your chest.

He shrugs. “I, uh, wouldn’t blame you. We didn’t talk much after… after everything.”

“Yeah.” Your admission is soft, regret burning a hole in your tongue.

“So, um…” Jake trails off, looking unsure of himself. That’s a first, you realise with a start. He’s usually so calm and collected, even in the worst times. “Do you still feel the same as you did a year ago?”

You suck in a breath. “Why—why would you ask me something like that?”

“I—just curious.”

His eyes land on yours, beseeching and glorious. Even when he’s just woken up, he looks like he’s been dipped in the sun’s golden rays. Your heart hammers inside your chest.

“Wait, can I ask you something else? Why… did you reject me that night?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re transported back to that fateful evening in July.

You stuttered the words out, and explained that you were in love with him, that you were pretty sure he was your soulmate, regardless of who your string was actually connected to. With every new sentence you tacked on, the emotion on Jake’s face vanished. Towards the end, you felt your face crumble.

He left you alone on the pavement, broken-hearted and lovesick.

Jake clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off so harsh on you that day.”

“I don’t care about that, Jake,” you say simply. “I just want to know why.”

“Because I was stupid. I didn’t believe in the soulmate bullshit, but I know you do. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic. I—” He licks his lips before continuing— “The truth is, Y/N, I really, really like you… But I didn’t want to hold you back from finding your true soulmate—whoever was on the other side of your string—’cause I know they’re gonna be the one for you.”

If you weren’t sitting already, you’re sure Jake’s confession would have swept you off your feet and you would be a bumbling mess on his dining room floor. Seeing the forlorn look on his face, you nearly crumble. How stupid your soulmate is. How kind and caring and selfless. 

“So I rejected you. I thought I wouldn’t be able to make you happy.” He pauses for a moment, his voice dropping. “It’s still the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

You finally find your voice. “Jake…”

He laughs somberly. “You probably think I’m an asshole.”

“I could never think that,” you say firmly. Your hand finds his on the tabletop, and he laces your fingers together, staring at your connected palms with awe.

“I do think you’re a little bit dumb, because I’ve liked you too since, like, forever—”

“Define forever,” he interrupts, not unkindly.

“Well—maybe since the time you surprised me with all the physical copies of that book series I wanted for my fifteenth birthday?”

“Then,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “I’ve loved you since before forever.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of your mouth. You feel a tug on your little finger as Jake moves his hand away from yours and cups your cheek with it instead. “I’ve also wanted to kiss you since before forever.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, drawing closer to you.

You lean forward and capture his lips with yours, running your tongue along his bottom lip. He parts his mouth with a sigh, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. His other free hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck; you wind your arms around his neck. The position is a bit cumbersome—the edge of the chair digs into your thigh, and he nearly knocks his elbow on the back of his chair—but his touch is searing hot, the welcome kind, the kind that makes you crave more and more and more.

“You promise you won’t do it again?” you ask later, out of breath and flushed.

“I promise,” he says, and he links his pinkie finger with yours to seal the deal.

The thread tied around it glows golden.

#5. he doesn’t even believe in soulmates (but he’ll try)

“You can’t see it?”

“I’ve told you a million times already,” Jake says patiently, “but I can’t.”

“How?” You look at him dubiously. “It’s literally a glowing golden thread connecting you and me.”

“I don’t need a thread to connect us,” your boyfriend quips. “I can think of better uses for a rope.”

You make a sound of disgust. “We’re at the library.”

Jake Sim grins at you, all bright and shining and vivid. “So?”

Taehyun lets out a pointed cough, typing on his laptop. “There are other people here,” he says, motioning to Gaeul, Chaerin and Sunghoon. All three of them are very obviously avoiding your gaze. Even the tips of Taehyun’s ears are pink. You stifle a giggle.

“Sorry,” Jake says, not sounding sorry at all. He picks up your hand again, thumb brushing against the knuckle of your little finger, right above the knot where the golden string is tied. He whispers to you, next, “I just don’t believe in it.”

“I know,” you say. “But you’re missing out on a lot.”

Jake hums. “I don’t believe in soulmates. But I believe in you.”

You roll your eyes, ready to chew him out for being a sappy romantic again, when his next words make your heart stutter.

“I think that’s good enough for me.”

[ham1lton]

MISS BAD MEDIA KARMA

pairings: (alleged) charles leclerc x reader. lando norris x reader. george russell x reader. (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader.

warnings: misogynistic media and comments.

summary: after a night out with your fellow drivers, the media is alight with rumours and speculation about your romantic life. most people would call a pr meeting, you go through the funniest rumours on instagram live and rate them out of ten.

author’s note: i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in! also as usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote!

— part of my maneater series ꕤ

START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (20K WATCHING)

Y/N: hi guys! hi! how is everyone? how are you doing?

user1: Y/N NOTICE ME!

user2: y/n girl u look hungover as hell 😭

Y/N: am i hungover? perhaps. that’s probably why i’m doing this. jo is going to kill me but whatever.

user3: what are you planning on doing? 😭

Y/N: after yesterday’s… events. there have been a lot of rumours about me and my fellow drivers that have been spread around social media. so let’s talk through them and rate them out of ten.

user7: ain’t this a pr disaster?

user8: you probably shouldn’t do this.

landonorris: LMFAOOOOOO DO IT

Y/N: lando? how are you not hungover from last night? i’ll start with you. apparently according to this thread by twitter user y/nando, the two of us are secretly engaged to be married. okay first of all, why? second of all, no. i’m sorry. that isn’t happening any time soon. also, my schedule is too packed to be thinking about marriage plans. this one is 2/10 because c’mon.

landonorris: i’m searching that thread right now.

landonorris: wait lol why is this kinda accurate… are you sure we’re not engaged?

user7: LMFAOOOOOO

Y/N: we’re supposed to be EXTINGUISHING the rumours, not adding to them??? we are not engaged. we’re just friends. barely that if anything.

user8: BOOOOOOOOO

y/nando: it’s okay :) you’ll see that you’re perfect for each other one day.

Y/N: will we? anyways. next rumour. according to some monaco newspaper, charles and i have a secret child. this is apparently backed up by some anonymous sources.

landonorris: BOOOOO we get some shitty engagement rumour and you and charles get a child. i want a redo!

charles_leclerc: don’t deny our child y/n 😔

user6: y’all are MESSY 😭

user9: CHARLESY/N SUPREMACY 😍

georgerussell63: end the live y/n 😁👍🏻

Y/N: what is this photo? this is supposed to be proof of my pregnancy? i was just bloated from an evening of indulging at this amazing italian restaurant. it was gorgeous. whoever used this photo is dead wrong for that. this one is 5/10 cause i feel self conscious.

user12: no deadass 😭 if i was famous i would have had a million pregnancy rumours by now.

user68: no charlesy/n baby? BOOO!

Y/N: another one. george and i were spotted buying baby clothes in london. apparently george is me and charles’ baby’s godfather. there is no baby! charles and i don’t have a kid. so george is not the godfather!

georgerussell63: wait… why not? i would be a great godfather actually. i am offended.

user9: george going from telling y/n to switch off the live to being offended he isn’t the godfather of her alleged baby is crazy 😭

Y/N: also why was i shopping with george and not my alleged baby daddy? charles you’re a deadbeat to our non-existent child and that’s why this newspaper is saying that george is raising my kid?

charles_leclerc: apologies to leclerc jr but no way i’m letting george raise him.

georgerussell63: i’m not ready to be a stepdad but c’mon i’d be a great one.

user4: george isn’t the stepdad, he’s the dad that stepped up!

logansargeant: i’m upset that i haven’t been included in these rumors.

Y/N: if i was gonna ask anyone to be my baby’s stepdad it would be oscar. this rumour is 3/10 because it’s so unbelievable.

oscarpiastri: NOOOOOOOO 😰

user9: HELP???

user67: i’m watching this while doing my makeup. y/n is my favourite influencer!

user78: i was watching your vlog when i saw the notification!

Y/N: did you enjoy this vlog? for people who haven’t seen it yet, it’s detailing my offseason with my friends and family! we travelled a little and i did some work with my sponsorships! so check it out. we have some very interesting camera people.

user65: can’t believe you had the usher do your camera work for your superbowl vlog.

user8: you met beyoncé, you never gonna fail!

user67: be honest, did you faint at the sight of all the big celebs?

lewishamilton: y/n, this is all very interesting but maybe you shouldn’t be doing this? - sebastian.

Y/N: seb?? what are you doing here? and why are you on lewis’ account? don’t you have your own?

lewishamilton: i lost my login information 😅 and i got a message from charles telling me to shut this down - sebastian.

Y/N: what a snitch…

user23: he mad y/n didn’t accept their child 😭

Y/N: speaking of sebastian, here is my favourite rumour. that sebastian is my father and i’m his secret lovechild.

youryoungersis: wait…. is that why we look so different? you have a different dad???

lewishamilton: i’m not that much older than you? how can i be your dad? i’m only 13 years older than you! do i look that old? - sebastian, NOT your father.

user7: HELPSOSJSSJ

user5: NOT HIM CLARIFYING 😭😭

Y/N: that one is funny but no. we don’t even look alike! i hear a lot that we have the same mannerisms but that’s probably because i practically grew up around the guy. i’m rating this one…. 7/10.

lewishamilton: grew up around not with! - sebastian, NOT her father.

user2: BRO WE GET IT 😭😭😭😭

Y/N: so basically, time for the last one. this one is definitely the most out of pocket one.

alex_albon: BOOOOO I MISSED MOST OF IT

danielricciardo: 🤣🤣🤣

user98: HELSPSOSJ i’m laughing so hard.

Y/N: oh hi jo! how did you get in? WAIT!-

INSTAGRAM LIVE ENDED. (98K WATCHING)

[heeliopheelia]

LACY (p. jay)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

includes: oral (f receiving), fingering, crying, insecurities, soft dom! jay, praising, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, hate comments

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶�� 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩

guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist

Looking at your phone makes you want to throw up. 

“out of literally everyone he pulls… that? gotta be a joke”

“jay deserves sm better”

“if that thing got a chance with him that means i’d be unstoppable”

“pls tell me this is a joke”

“girlie gotta have a crazy head game cuz ain’t no way lmfao”

As if you don’t feel bad enough about yourself already. 

Ever since the photo of you and your boyfriend coming back from a date leaked to the internet, there’s been nothing but a ridiculous amount of hatred directed towards your clueless self. 

In the morning Jay’s text saying please stay offline today baby was enough to make your stomach churn without even knowing what was actually happening. And against his words and your common sense, your fingers instantly went to the first better social media app on screen’s your homepage.

And so with every single comment put out on the internet, you feel your confidence and self-worth slowly crumbling down until they have eventually worn you out and you’re nothing but a sobbing mess ever since the morning. Your head hurts from all the crying yet the slightly masochistic part of yourself doesn’t let you tear your gaze away from the screen.

Maybe it’s because deep down you’ve always felt like you’re not good enough to be dating such a man as Jay, and the insecure thoughts he’s worked so hard to bury six feet underneath your feet have just resurfaced once again. 

Knowing he’s surrounded by almost literal embodiments of the beauty standard on a daily basis and then having to come home to a plain nobody like you can’t be good for no one’s mental health, that’s for sure. 

“Baby?”

The lump stretches your throat too painfully for you to make any other sound than the whimper you let out, and soon you hear Jay’s footsteps approaching your suffocatingly silent room.

“Are you there, love?” 

You press your trembling lips together and nod your head, trying to force yourself to stop being so emotional for once. The last thing you want him to do is deal with… this, whatever your current state is. 

“You’ve been reading the comments,” he points out quietly, but not with accusation – only worry. His heart squeezes with desperation to somehow make you feel better, yet you take his silence as a sign of disappointment in you. 

And somehow you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, too swallowed by shame. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper eventually after a couple beats of silence. Your head drops lowly onto your bunched up knees. “I just had to see it myself.”

“Hey, no more twitter, no more instagram – no more,” Jay pleads softly as he carefully takes your phone out of your weak grasp and sets it on the bedside table, only to thread his fingers through yours and intertwine them together. “Don’t do this to yourself. Please, stop crying, beautiful. They don’t deserve your tears, hm?”

A sob rips out of your throat and echoes through the silent room, simultaneously breaking your boyfriend’s heart in two. “It’s just… I-,” you’re unable to finish your sentence with the hundreds of thoughts running around your mind, not giving you a moment of peace since hours ago.

“I know nothing I say will make you feel better now,” Jay whispers, shuffling closer on the bed until his chest is pressed against your shoulder and he envelops you in a protective embrace. He presses a warm kiss to your temple. “I love you. I hate to see you like that, honey.”

You nod your head, sniffling loudly and choking on your own sobs. “I love you too,” you cry quietly, moving your head to rest against his chest. “I just don’t feel good with myself right now.”

Jay hums. His hands blindly reach to your face to wipe your tears away, fingers gently caressing your damp face. “I know.” His words are muffled by your hair as he nuzzles his face in it. “I’m sorry.”

You can clearly hear the violent beating of his heart from your position and the insides of your stomach twist with sadness because you know well he’s blaming himself for everything. He promised to protect you at the beginning of your relationship, forever and always, and yet he’s failed at the one thing that should’ve been of the highest importance to him.

He felt conflicted about his job more times than he would like to admit. The constant restrictions, always having to watch his words and actions, the almost non-existent privacy – it was tough, annoying, but he could take it. 

But he’s never hated being who he is more than he does right now. Seeing the person he loves the most, the person who holds his entire world, being in such a miserable state because of his job makes him feel just so helpless.

Swallowing his self-pity, Jay soothes you as gently as he can. His fingers thread through your hair, waiting patiently until your heavy sobs turn into hiccups and eventually small whimpers. 

“I chose you, YN,” he finally says softly, hand pushing the hair sticking to your face away as the other one cups your cheek and brings you to look at him. “I chose you and I’d choose you over everyone else. It’s always going to be you. Always.” 

You blink your lashes heavy with tears, cheeks stinging from the excessive amount of them that has dropped down your face. He nudges your cheek with his nose before pressing a gentle kiss to your brow bone. This tender gesture and his words finally allow the smallest smile to appear on your lips. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” Jay giggled. His arms wrap tighter around you before he lifts you up and pulls you onto his lap. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t fully love yourself yet, I can do it for the both of us for now, baby. Please, believe me.” 

You nod your head, now choked up for a whole different reason. You let him lean in and join your lips together in a sweet kiss. His knuckles caress your cheeks and chin as he plants a chain of pecks on your swollen mouth.  

He tries to break the kiss but you don’t let him get too far away, pulling him back in by his neck and crashing your lips together again, this time more desperately. Jay’s fingers slip into the loopholes of your pants, bringing you closer and closer until there’s no space left between your chests. 

The hushed I love you’s coming out from both of your mouths, his warm lips sucking a kiss after kiss on yours, his hand that drops down and sneaks underneath your top to linger over your skin – you’re becoming dizzy from the overwhelming love you’re being given.

“I’ve achieved everything because of you, love. I am who I am because of you,” he breathes out into your lips, forehead bumping against yours. One last time, he kisses the whatever is left of your tears away, then goes back to your hungry lips. “I’d give you the world if you asked me to. Let me take care of you, like you always do for me.”

With a strong move, he pulls you off his lap and lays you down on the plushy bedding. You shiver when the warmth of his body leaves you, only to catch your breath when he drops to the ground with the dull sound of his knees hitting the wooden floor. 

His warm hands rub your thighs soothingly, palming your inflamed skin before his lips follow their lead and pepper small kisses all over them, gradually traveling higher. You can hardly breathe from the tension, impatiently waiting for his every next move, the exhaustion in your body making you feel everything tenfold. 

The whisper you let out is strangled because of the prominent tingling in between your thighs. “I need you, Jay.”

With a hum of acknowledgement, he unzips then takes off your pants along with your underwear, discarding the clothes somewhere on the floor blindly.  Breath hitches in your throat when he leans forward and finally buries his face between your legs, lips softly grazing your warmth.  

His hands push on your inner thighs, holding your legs wide open as he leans down and presses a kiss to your pussy. A jolt shoots through your body when his teeth brush over your clit before he ducks his head down and engulfs it with his warm mouth entirely.

A shiver runs down your spine when his tongue runs flat against your clit, another but longer lick following right after. Your fingers clench on the duvet beneath you as you pant and whimper with every move that he makes. 

Jay’s thumbs circle and press on the smooth skin on your thighs, he himself humming and grunting into your pussy as he slurps you up. 

You’re perfect, so perfect in his eyes, yet the angle is still not satisfying to him, constantly searching for a better access to your quivering hole. Suddenly, his arms wrap around your knees and he swiftly lifts your legs further up, almost folding you in half as he sinks his mouth in your wetness again, groaning at how much better he can eat you out now. Properly. 

A loud moan ripples from your throat and you jerk in his hold violently, not expecting him to just manhandle you like this. You’re just there, mind blank and eyes fluttering shut when Jay pushes his tongue into your hole, fucking and stretching you with it as best as he can. He’s being so loud with it, so nasty that you can’t help but surrender yourself to him completely, losing yourself to him over and over again. 

Two of his warm fingers circle your weeping hole before letting them sink inside slowly, gently. With the addiction of his nose brushing over your clit, his tongue never halting its movements and now working in harmony with his fingers, you’re barely responsive. 

You mewl and whine breathlessly, sweat starting to create a thin layer on your worked up body. Jay pulls away to take a breath and admire your blissed out face, long fingers curling up, and he ducks his head to cover your sensitive thighs with marks and bites. 

“Aah, s’ good,” you slur out, arching your back off the bed slightly. 

“Yeah? You like that, baby?” Jay asks, sucking one last hickey on your inner thigh before moving back to your needy cunt. You can only hum in agreement, the noise quickly turning into another string of moans and wails as you feel your approaching high. 

Jay cranes his neck to get to you at the best angle, one that will help you reach your climax the fastest. He didn’t even realize when his now hard cock started rutting against the bed slowly, only focused on you and you only, restraining his own pleasure. 

You open your mouth to warn him of your incoming release but before you can do that, Jay speeds up the movement of his fingers and has you coming within a second, a loud cry of his name on your lips serving as honey for his ears. 

He drags his face away from your glistening pussy to take a look at your face.

You’re so beautiful, so perfect, soft and all his.

“My prettiest,” he murmurs, planting a bunch of kisses against your thighs and stomach before lifting himself on his arms and crawling to get you to face him, laying breathlessly beneath him. 

He lowers himself to kiss you right on the lips, the slick from his face smearing against yours slightly but you’re too far gone to pay it any mind. 

“I love you,” is all you’re able to choke out in a whisper. Jay smiles and brushes his nose against yours, kissing you once, then twice and thrice before letting you fill your lungs again. 

“I love you more.”

And as much as you want to protest at first, you realize that he might be actually right. There’s no doubt of your feelings or devotion to him, you gave him your entire heart a long time ago, entrusted him with all you are and had enough faith in him to never make you regret your decision.

But no one loves like Jay does. His love is pure and raw, coming from the depth of his heart and overshadowing all other feelings you’ve ever harbored to another man. 

That’s how you also know that no matter anything you’ll always end up together, overcome everything. 

His gentle hands grab the bottom of the t-shirt you’re wearing, his actually now that he takes a better look at it, then lifts it up, revealing your perky breasts to him. He plants kisses against them, simultaneously unzipping his pants and kicking them down to the floor. His boxers are discarded next and you help him unbutton his shirt with your shaky fingers. 

“Make me yours,” you say into his lips once you’re done with that, hand pressed against his cheek. 

Your words are enough to send Jay’s patience out the window, and he’s lifting your leg to hook it over his waist before sinking his hard cock inside you, your walls instantly sucking him in to the hilt. He groans at the warmth that engulfs him, squeezing him so tightly he can barely move. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, blood rushing to your cheeks at the intimacy, his eyes boring into you lovingly. Because that’s what he is. Utterly, hopelessly lovesick. 

His chest heaves above yours for a moment as he lets you adjust and relax around him before settling for a slower and deep pace. Your breaths get ragged quickly, listening to the filthy squelching whenever he pulls out of you only to sink in further each time. 

“See, baby? It’s all good now,” he rasps, sweaty hair beginning to cling to his forehead because of the stuffiness in your bedroom. “You don’t need anyone else. Only me. I’ll take care of you.”

“Only you,” you repeat after him, watching his eyes sparkle and eyebrows furrow.

He lets out a chuckle, out of breath. “Good girl.”

His hold on you tightens as he fucks into you, his large hand slipping to the back of your head and pressing your face to his neck. His thrusts grow faster, more erratic and messy, and the only thing you’re able to do at the moment is whine desperately into his skin and wrap your other leg over his hips, thighs clenching his sides even tighter.

You feel better. You feel heavenly. You feel loved.

He bullies his way so deep inside you that you feel as if on the verge of blacking out. It’s so good. You’re pretty sure you’re going to leave a drool stain on your boyfriend’s toned shoulder once you pull away from there as you’re just unable to close your mouth for a second, too fucked out to have any control over it now.

“Can I go a little faster, sweetheart?” Jay asks.

You whine into the junction of his neck. “Mhm.”

And so he does, his touch growing in intensity as well. He lets go of your neck and your head falls back onto the pillows and you finally get to look at his face, expression so soft and tender, and a stark contrast to the way he fucks you. 

Your stomach sets ablaze with every loud clap of his hips against yours, his precum making a mess on your thighs. 

“Fucking hell,” he moans lowly, not being able to get enough of the doe-eyed look you’re giving him. He didn’t know it was possible, but he thinks he loves you even a little more than yesterday. 

The sloppy sound of your wet skin colliding with his ricochets off of your bedroom’s walls and your eyes water again – this reason completely contrasting to the earlier heartbreak. Jay is here to kiss all of your tears away, his warm lips tracing your cheeks and collecting every salty droplet that falls on your skin. 

You throw your head back, nails digging into his shoulder blades. And then he reaches down with the one hand that’s not holding you, pressing his fingers on your swollen clit and rubbing circles on it, making you grow lightheaded again. 

His never ceasing thrusts keep hitting your g-spot, without even giving you a second to breathe. 

“J-Jay,” you whimper, voice wet and small, and he knows exactly what you want to communicate to him. 

You fall apart in his arms as your orgasm hits your sensitive pussy even harder this time, making you squirt with a shallow gasp for air. You feel completely owned by him at the moment. 

Jay’s eyes roll to the back of his skull for a hot minute, his cock aching and twitching as your walls spasm and squeeze him mercilessly. He buries his face in your neck now, nibbling under your ears and panting heavily against your skin.

Jay cums hard, probably harder than he ever has before – all because he knows he’s fucked you so good you can’t stop shaking in his arms. His own thighs begin to quiver a little as he ruts his emptying cock into your warm pussy, filling you up so nicely.

It’s the choked up wail that leaves your throat that spurs him into pushing more of his throbbing length into your sensitive self. His warm cum fills you to the brim, seeping slowly onto your thighs, yet he keeps snapping his hips against you slowly. “That’s it. Take it, baby. Take it all.”

Your lips part and when he pulls away from your neck, he immediately slides his tongue against yours. His kisses are sloppy and hot and wet but that only pushes you even further into the state of bliss, completely losing your mind for the man above you.

Your back is arched, making you press your chest into his forcefully as you jolt and twitch from overstimulation as he pulls out his soft cock out of you carefully. 

Jay’s lips press to your temple warmly with a soothing intention. You try to catch your breath, body sweaty and clammy just like your hair. Yet you look just as pretty as ever to him. His prettiest girl. 

 He collapses onto the bed next to you and lets you cling to him for as long as you want to, holding you tightly to his chest and drowning you in praises and compliments. It’s only when he notices that your eyelids are growing heavy that he gently pulls you away and up from the bed, steadying your wobbly self on the rug beside your bed. 

You look at him in confusion, eyes misty and tired and he can’t help but giggle and kiss you one more time. “We should probably take a shower first,” he flicks your nose when you scrunch it up slightly but then you nod your head.

When you start walking into the direction of the bathroom, goosebumps spiking your skin despite the hot temperature in the room, you turn around and frown when you notice that Jay has stayed behind you.

“You’re not coming, love?” You ask but he shakes his head. 

“You go first, baby. I’ll be right there in a second.” He nods his head to the ruined bedding. “Gotta change the sheets first.”

You flush as you take in the mess you’ve both made. “Right,” you mumble and then disappear behind the door. 

When you’re both showered and back in the bed together, you’re propping yourself on your elbows, trying to reach the switch of the lamp on the bedside table. You don’t get far when Jay’s arm wraps itself across your torso and brings you back down, right into his chest.  

“Stay,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face in your hair.

You giggle quietly but give in and lay comfortably, half on the bed and half on your boyfriend. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jay hums lowly. “I mean forever. Stay with me forever.”

You look at him, eyes slightly widening despite how tired you are, and his words take your breath away when you realize he’s dead serious. You’re at a loss of words, looking at the man by your side, stunned, yet he only smiles lazily and brings your hand to his lips to press his warm lips against your knuckles.

“Marry me.”

Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately

And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

taglist: @luvkpopp @yannew @hoonxclsvly @jongseongslvr @beomgyusonlywife @starggukies @koizekomi @ineedsomezzz @starl1ghtsinthedark @enhastolemyheart @seokseokjinkim @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @somekpopshiteu97 @enhypens-hoe @alpha-mommy69 @jwnzlvr @wondipity

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @mon2sunjinsuver @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @criminalyun @kissestojapan

note: i actually really like how it turned out xx

[verstappen-cult]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 02. THE MEDDLING

PREV. PART | NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing and for the sake of the smau imola was not canceled. note: thank you sm for the love you showed the first part! once again if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished. if you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know! ♡

INSTAGRAM STORIES

MAY 14, 2023.

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM POST

📍 ROMA, ITALY

Liked by yourusername, lilymhe and 432,503 others

alex_albon Don’t believe anything they say, I won ⛳️

view all 3,799 comments

lilymhe i’m not gonna say anything. 🤐

user35 so it is true. they were with charles and Y/N user36 We don’t know that user37 someone working there confirmed it

charles_leclerc mate you fell like three times

user38 WE GOT THE CONFIRMATION user39 omg this makes it real user40 BUT WAS Y/N ACTUALLY THERE

user41 not his entire comment section filled with charles and Y/N fans 🙄🙄🙄

user42 PARENTS

yourusername shut up you know i won

user43 OH MY GOD OH MY GODDDD user44 i cant believe it i’m having a crisis over this user45 context pls user46 everyone’s saying they were in a double date and apparently this is the confirmation.

pierregasly thanks for (not) inviting me!!!

📍 ROMA, ITALY

Liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya and 756,223 others

yourusername i won. i have witnesses.

view all 2,498 comments

alex_albon keep saying that 🥱

yourusername SHUT UP

user47 not a single pic of charles and her together but we know they were together

user48 feeding us crumbs

user49 she looks so pretty

zendaya tom keeps saying we need to play golf when you’re back in london.

yourusername tell him i’m gonna kick his ass

landonorris you should play with people that actually knows how to play: ME

lilymhe SORRY? yourusername dw lils, i have your back

user50 i love how she’s befriending everyone

user51 thanks to alex user52 and your point is? user51 she’s using him for his fame user53 LOOOOOOL

pierregasly thanks for (not) inviting me!!!

user54 what’s more hilarious to me than this whole “double date” discourse are pierre comments on both alex and Y/N posts because they did not invite him.

Y/N & ALEX’S iMESSAGE

THURSDAY MAY 18, 2023 — PRESS CONFERENCE

charles is sitting next to lando and max, pierre next to him as alex stands in front of them. he’s aware they’re talking about what they’re expecting from this weekend, but he can’t seem to focus on what they are actually saying, only picking up pieces of the conversation. he’s too focused on his phone, the message thread he has with Y/N staring back at him. the last text he has from her is just a simple ‘cool’ after he was trying to play it cool.

“what you doing, charlie?” max asks, playfully poking him in the ribs. he immediately locks his phone, raising his head only to find that everyone is looking at him already.

“i know what he’s doing.” lando wiggles his eyebrows and charles wonders if he really needs his fingers to race. “you screwed up.”

charles knows he screwed up, and definitely doesn’t need lando reminding him the awful mistake he made for just trying not to sound too intense because, of course, he’s made that mistake in the past. and every girl he’s had something with always said the same: ‘you’re too much, charles’, ‘you’re taking things too fast, we should take a break.’ so ever since the last girl he dated, once again, said the same thing, charles promised himself he would not be that guy.

“hey,” alex has this look of pity in his eyes that he doesn’t like, not even one bit. “maybe we could do something to help you.”

“i don’t need your help.” charles’ tone is too sharp and abrupt it’s makes him feel a little bad for talking to his friends like that. but just a little.

“look, you like her, right?” pierre chimes in, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “alex is his best friend, if you want a chance with her, he’s the only one who can help you right now.”

but why does he wanna help him?

alex must see the question written all over his face because he says, “she’s dated a few assholes in the past and i really want something good for her. i trust you, charles.” he tries to look serious which only makes charles laugh. “besides, i have the perfect idea.”

ALEX’S iMESSAGE — MAY 18, 2023

INSTAGRAM POST

📍 VENICE, ITALY — MAY 19, 2023

Liked by scottyjames31, lance_stroll and 976,665 others

yourusername a few days ago i had the pleasure to celebrate two of my favorite people, Chloe and Scotty James. and spent two wonderful days filled with love and joy in the beautiful venice! so happy for you both. 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏼🩷

i wish i could stay here forever, but back to reality for now. :(

view all 7,455 comments

user55 i didn’t know she’s friends with the strolls

lance_stroll I have very embarrassing videos of you, just remember that 🍾

user56 why lance and Y/N look kinda good together

user57 That’s exactly what I was thinking. They would look pretty good as a couple user58 he has a girlfriend user59 and Y/N is probably dating charles user57 only rumors

user60 back to reality? she’s not gonna be in the paddock this weekend?

user61 why would she? nobody wants her there

user62 i thought she was in italy for the gp

user63 just a coincidence user62 still hoping she’ll be there

francisca.cgomes I’m gonna need to borrow that beautiful dress! ❤️

user63 she really knows everyone now user64 literally. she was just one time at a race and befriended everyone

user65 i feel like we’re missing something

Y/N’s iMESSAGE

SATURDAY MAY 20, 2023 — THE MISSION 007 DINNER

the second you see a head of brown hair standing at the door, you want to walk over to where alex is sitting and smash his head on the table. you made sure before arriving to the restaurant that charles was not gonna be there tonight, even lando told you he was busy with some ferrari event. obviously, both lied to you.

“hey, charles!” george, who’s standing next to you, his girlfriend carmen at your other side, waves at him. and for the first time since that fateful dinner a few days ago, you make eye contact with his bright brown eyes.

butterflies break free inside your belly, even when you try to repress everything he makes you feel.

you’ve known charles for no more than ten days but it really feels like you’ve known each other your whole life. everything is so easy with him, you can’t remember when was the last time you felt this way, if it ever happened.

you thought everything was going well between you two and, for a minute, you let yourself believe he could like you. but then he gave you the cold shoulder and everything came crashing down.

and that’s your problem. you always feel so much in so little time that when things don’t go the way you’d like, everything hurts twice as hard.

there’s no one to blame but you.

“hey,” is it possible to like the sound of his voice so much that you feel your knees going weak?

“you’re the last one to arrive. here,” george shares a look with his girlfriend that you don’t really know how to read, and both move aside. “you’re sitting here tonight. we’ll go find our seats.”

you want the earth to swallow you. you want to be in a plane far away from here because the seat george is pointing at it’s right next to yours.

before you can open your mouth to say something, the couple slips away. and suddenly it feels like you and charles are the only ones in the room.

no one says a word for what feels like hours. you’re actually trying to find a excuse to leave when charles sighs, defeated.

“i’m sorry.” his voice is almost a whisper, something only for you to hear. “i acted like an idiot.”

“yeah,” you agree because you don’t know what else to say. he did act like an idiot, ignoring you for days, not answering your texts even when you asked him if something was wrong.

“i can explain if you’d let me.”

his brown eyes bore into yours, so soft and sincere your heart skips a beat. and even if you want to say no, your whole body begs you to accept.

“let’s eat first and enjoy the evening,” his face lights up like a kid on christmas day. “then i’ll let you buy me dessert and we can talk.”

TWITTER — SUNDAY MAY 21, 2023

TAGLIST (bold means i couldn’t tag you) — @leclerc16s. @willowpains. @berrnuu. @minkyungseokie. @sassyheroneckgiant. @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir. @nessacarty1. @a1leexxa. @storminacloud. @lovstappen.

note: i hope you liked it. i’m sorry if i forgot to tag you! please let me know what you think, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. <3

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FIFTEEN

in which Eddie learns what it means to be honest, and you learn that some answers can only lead to more questions.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4.7k+

→ a/n: this chapter is my enemy. that's all. all the homies hate this chapter for the hell it gave me both in writing it and posting it

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

15:00 ────────ㅇ─────── 24:00

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

You were so caught up in your own disappointment, you never saw the flash of recognition that crossed Eddie’s face. Only the anger that followed.

“Is that the dude who stood you up?” 

His voice is weak as he asks the question, a breath that barely reaches your ears as you jump at the unexpected proximity. 

“What?” you spin around to face him, “Jesus Christ, why are you creeping over my shoulder at my phone? Trying to see who else doesn’t follow me on Instagram?” 

He cringes at your bitter tone, all the vodka you’ve turned to venom in your hurt, “You didn’t answer my question – is that him?” 

“Why do you care?” 

It’s the short version of the real questions binding you. A million different threads of confusion, and each one constricts you tighter than the last, all of them tangling together in the confusion. 

Why do you care when you dislike me so vigorously? Why do you care when you’ll only use my answer as ammunition against me? Why do you care to hurt me so badly tonight? Why do you care if Nancy and I are friends? Why do you care to point out how I don’t belong in this group-

“I don’t,” he interrupts your internal panic, pausing the restless twisting of anxious twine. 

You take a deep breath, you let your eyes wander over him, taking him in. He’s ditched the soft-spoken act, his voice coming out powerful finally. The confidence is almost overdone; he sounds as if he’s trying to make up for something not there. 

You crave for distance to be put between the two of you, but he makes no move to step away as you ask, “Then why do you keep asking me?” 

You can’t begin to understand him, completely unsure of where to ever start with the task. He’s a hollow stranger of the man you’d initially met that night in the bar. You’ve seen how he acts with the others, how he treats Nancy like royalty at times and how he’s warm with Argyle. You’ve seen him share joints and laughter alike with Jonathan. It’s hard to miss when he and Steve both begin to get overly passionate about a topic, Robin always finding a way to join in. Eddie is capable of warmth and care, of friendship and genuine love, but not when it comes to you. 

“I was just curious, sue me.” 

“If I had a good lawyer, I would,” you snap back quickly, patience wearing thin. 

It makes him grin – a damn grin. Shit-eating as ever as he replies, “I know a guy if you’d like one,” and he keeps grinning, and you don’t even notice when a line is crossed and that faux glee no longer meets his eyes as he continues,  “Speaking of knowing a guy – do you know the guy on your screen?” 

The threads are twisting again, and the friction is leaving your blood boiling. “Fucking obviously.” 

“Is he the one who stood you up?” 

“Fuck off, Eddie.” 

You can’t handle this right now. You’re drunk – not so drunk you won’t remember the night, but still damn drunk – and you’re overthinking. Letting the threads cut off circulation to your brain, letting yourself only be consumed with overthinking about your place within the group. You don’t even have the capacity to question why Eddie is so persistent in finding out about the bartender who left you looking like a fool the night before; you miss his genuine, burning curiosity and the anger that still broods in him as your anxiety bubbles up. 

Were you and Nancy friends? Maybe Instagram did matter. Surely, she followed everyone else in the group, didn’t she? 

“Why won’t you just answer the question? Why are you so damn stubb-” 

“You don’t care!” you nearly scream, throwing your hands up in defeat, slamming your phone down onto the counter beside you, “You don’t care, you’ve made that clear, so I don’t understand why you need to hear me say it so fucking badly. Why do you need to hear me admit how pathetic I am? We both know where this is going – I say yes, you use it against me, I end up looking like a fool for a second night in a row,” your chest heaves and your eyes burn, but you won’t look at him. You can’t bear witness to him watching you bleed in the middle of Steve’s kitchen, “I’m not doing it. Not tonight.” 

He looks as if you had slapped him. Stunned, aghast, taking a step back to finally give you the space you had so desperately craved. You don’t even really care about it anymore; the damage is done and you’re already spiraling, thanks to him. 

“Do you think so little of me?” 

His voice is small again. Deceptively soft, a treacherous whisper you know you can’t look into. He’s not really hurt. It’s all probably an act, a guise to get you to play into how he wants the night to go. 

“With what you’ve given me to work with?” you scoff, still blinking your eyes rapidly, trying to stave off the waterworks, “Yeah. Yeah, I am starting to think that little of you.” 

“Have you considered I was just trying to be friend-” 

You’re not sure how his sentence is going to end, whether he would claim to be trying to be friendly or trying to be friends. You’re not sure which one makes you more livid.

It’s the second one. “You just mocked me, made me doubt if I had fucking friends all because of Nancy not following me on Instagram. Don’t you dare say you were trying to be friends with me right now.” 

If you were more sober, you would have cursed yourself for blatantly revealing to him that he’d gotten to you. Your wounds were now on display for him, and you stiffened as you realized and awaited the expected handful of salt he’d be rubbing into them. 

We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.

The fight’s only just begun and you’ve already lost – not just this battle, but the entire war.

You know they would choose him. If your friends were given the choice between you two, they’d choose him. And it shouldn’t sting, it’s expected given how long the group has known each other, but Eddie’s animosity towards you has done nothing to soothe the ache stirred by that truth. You would never ask them to choose, you know better, but you’ve always known the answer.

It’s him, not you. 

“I was joking-” 

“No, that was not joking. It wasn’t funny. It was mean.” 

Mean, cruel, ruthless. What Eddie did rings sharply in your chest, in your brain that’s currently running on overtime to process your waves of emotions. The threads are so tight, you expect to see a puddle of blood at your feet on Steve and Robin’s kitchen floor. 

“As if you’re any better,” he sharply laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, “You want to talk about mean? Let’s talk about my date with Chrissy and you’re fucking fiasco.” 

Your stomach drops. The battlefield lurches into uneven ground, because what you did really was unfair. But you had been bitter, and you had been mean, and you had been…. 

You had been jealous. Jealous not of the romance that was honestly leaving much to be desired between him and Chrissy, but that platonic friendship. The kind you had yet to earn from him. The kind you were starting to doubt if you ever had, genuinely, with the rest of the group. 

“I’m-”

“Sorry? Yeah, well, sorry don't make her call me back.” 

This is where, if you were speaking with anyone besides Eddie, you offer a real, genuine apology. 

But you’re speaking with Eddie. You’re burnt out from a long week, your pride still remains wounded, you’re suddenly questioning if you even have any friends, you’re drunk, and you’re speaking with Eddie. 

A genuine apology would be like terrible shards, dredged up your throat and being clung to desperately by your whining pride. You’re bleeding enough as it is without that. 

“My apologies, friend. I am so terribly sorry you weren’t able to get your dick wet.” 

You both deserved what was coming, really. You deserved it. Because suddenly, just as it always ended up between you two, hateful words were exchanged. The worst part isn’t when Eddie snarks about how at least he can get his dick wet, unlike you, nor is it when you spit out how being a slut isn’t something to be proud of. It’s a blur of sharp tongues and jabbing knives, both of you swiping for any which way to make the other bleed. 

It’s the cruelest you’ve been to each other yet, because somewhere below all of the surface-level insults, there’s real pain pulsing there. There’s your bloodied threads of anxiety, wretched thoughts and doubts as to if you should even be in this apartment tonight. There’s something more in the lines that form between Eddie’s furrowed brows as he matches your anger. His volume raises right along yours, and whenever his voice breaks over certain quick-dagger remarks, you don’t look into it. Especially not when it happens as he brings up the bartender again. All the failed dates, as he so kindly reminds you of. 

“For someone who claims to not fucking care, you sure do talk a lot about those ridiculous fucking dates,” you seethe finally. Somewhere in the argument, you’d downed the rest of your drink, leaving an empty glass beside you. 

“Because they prove my point!” he shouts in exasperation, “Because you… you… you can’t take a fucking hint.”

A final thread wraps around your throat. You feel as if you can’t breathe. 

“And what is that hint, exactly?” your tone shakes as you ask it, past anger and past heartbreak. 

Why do you still care what he thinks? Do you still care what he thinks?

The vodka says yes. 

Yet Eddie says no, shaking his head immediately.

“Oh, so now you don’t want to speak your mind?” you hate how vulnerable you are, the lilt of your voice with unshed tears and the crack in your chest that you’re sure he can hear. You want to scream, you want to pound your fists against his chest. You want to throw a proper tantrum, like an absolute child. Like a little kid on the playground who no one wanted to play with, “You had all this shit to say, and now you bite your tongue? Fuck you, Eddie.” 

“You don’t want to actually know,” he says flatly. He’s emotionless, and it burns you even further. Here you are, overflowing your cup with all your emotions, and his well has run dry. Even the tick you had managed to get out of his jaw is gone. All the anger, all the false signs of him actually caring have vanished.

You bite down on your lip, struggling to take a deep breath. Trying to even your anger, to bring yourself down to his level. You’re tired of the uneven battle ground. “I don’t? I never knew you were a mindreader.” 

“Don’t have to be a mindreader to see the way you’re about to burst into fucking tears.” 

You suddenly wish you could take the glass on the counter beside you and just toss it at him, full force. Make him physically bleed as he continues to stab at your pride, your ego, your emotions. 

You’re not even sure he’d bleed at this point. Maybe he’s a fucking robot designed to do nothing but hurt you. 

“Fuck you,” you state plainly as the first tear falls, repeating yourself with a more vindictive tone, “Fuck you. It’s not like you care about my fucking feelings, so just say it.” 

 “Fine,” he’s still so indifferent, still so emotionless, “You’re so dense, you never realize that you’re not wanted. Not by those assholes, not here-” 

It’s your final breaking point. You don’t care to hear the rest of his sentence, temper taking the reins as you reach for the glass beside you. 

You throw as hard as you can. 

You tell yourself it’s dumb luck and bad aim when the glass shatters against the wall behind Eddie and not his shocked face. Not mercy. Not the ghost of hope, evaporating with a whisper of glass shards as the final shovel full of dirt falls upon the grave. You can see it clearly, the gravestone that marks the fresh grave: Here Lies Possibility. Here Lies All That Could Have Been. 

It’s over. Eddie knows it – his emotion finally shows, but you don’t stick around to see it. 

Eddie’s wrong. For once, you see you’re not wanted, and make the choice to leave.

—

HOUR FIFTEEN - 6:00 AM

“It was about you. I got banned because of you.” 

You don’t know how to respond at first. Honesty hangs heavy between the two of you, suffocating in the morning light. 

You asked him for honesty. He gave you honesty.

It should be a celebration, but all it does is build a pit in the bottom of your stomach that threatens to weigh you down to the bottom of his ocean. 

When you finally respond, you enunciate each word carefully, “Eddie. What do you mean?” 

“I got banned. From the bar. Because of you.”

“No, yeah, I gathered that,” you stress, the crease between your brow deepening, “But…. I… elaborate?”

You can hear the cars on the street below, echoing honks and engines thrumming. Songbirds sing in the distance and shops are opening; the entire world surrounding you two is awakening with a long yawn and a gentle stretch. 

Your world feels as though it is coming to a full stop, but life is carrying on. 

“Which part?” he breaths out a humorless laugh, “The part where I got banned, or the part where it was because of you? Because the ban is pretty straight forward – I threw a punch at a guy, he threw a punch back, now I can’t step foot in Fat Tuesday on Mill Ave-”

“The part where it’s because of me, you idiot,” you interrupt him in exasperation, “What the hell do you mean you got banned because of me?” 

Silence. You’re met with silence. 

Maybe honesty has run dry, just like that. 

You search his face and count your luck, at least he admitted this much, before sighing, “Okay. You don’t have to tell me-” 

The honesty comes bursting out of him. The well of it is anything but dry, “It was the bartender that stood you up. He was there that night after our fight, after the party at Steve’s.” 

The bartender. 

You hadn’t thought of that guy in ages, had long since forgotten his name and face since he’d bruised your ego. 

“I…” your voice trails off, unsure and unsteady as you take tentative steps away from the balcony’s railing, “I’m… honored?” 

Honored isn’t quite the right word. You really don’t know how to feel right now. Should you be thanking him, assuming it was in your honor that he started the fight? Or should you press on, test the limits of honesty and figure out if you’re interpreting this entire confession incorrectly? 

Eddie chuckles dryly before he suddenly walks over to one of the two lounge chairs on the balcony, a small table separating them adorned with a crystal ashtray, “That’s all?”

“Should I not be?” Confusion bursts and blooms across your face, and Eddie’s only reaction to it is furrowed brows as he sits down, “I mean, you just told me you not only threw a punch, but took a punch from some dude who stood me up on a first date once. I think at the very least I should be-”

“I expected you to have more questions,” Eddie cuts you off as he taps his carton of cigarettes on the table beside you, more of a habit than a necessity. His knee is bouncing with each tap, an invisible beat you try to track and end up failing miserably before you take the other chair beside him, “You always have more questions.” 

I do, you think immediately, I have a million and one questions I can’t ask.

Each question flurries past you in a blur, and you’re sure if they’re capable of making you dizzy that there’s no way Eddie could handle them all being thrown at him. There’s also a small part of you still terrified that pressing too far will send him running; ask one wrong thing, and Eddie will retreat to his tall, defensive walls, once again separating him from you. Progress, no matter how minimal, is progress. You can’t risk backtracking. 

“Of course I do,” you repay his debt of honesty in a quiet tone, nimbly picking at the hem of his sweatshirt as it brushes your thigh. 

“Then ask them.”

“If I ask you more questions, are you going to shut me out?” 

The entire morning stills. The breeze turns stale, the sounds of the Sunday hustling and bustling seemingly pause. 

You can’t help but look into his big, brown eyes. You try to communicate with a single look, a silent plea for him to please say he isn’t. 

“I won’t shut you out,” he’s hardly louder than a whisper, but that’s enough for you.

You don’t know where to start: Did you punch him because of me? Did he say something first? Did you have an ulterior motive? Did you know about my date with him before that night? Did you guys talk about me?

The final one sparks a chill down your spine, uncomfortable at the thought of Eddie having discussed you with the bartender, having been the one to tarnish the man’s view of you enough to leave you stranded at a restaurant alone. 

Normally, you’d slowly ease him to the point of your actual question. But your patience has vanished as you look at him now, as you watch him under the promise that he won’t shut you out.

“How did you know him before the fight?” 

His lips twitch with a grin, “I was a regular, he was a bartender. Can I make it anymore obvious?” 

“Are you quoting Avril Lavigne to me right now?” you ask, flabbergasted before shaking your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts and move past this joke, “You know what? Forget I asked – so he served you often? Were you…. Were you friendly?” 

“Well, he once took me out behind the bar and kissed me, but he never got around to buying me dinner. Might have been because of my mean right hook, but who knows-”

“Eddie,” Your voice cracks in desperation, “Please, be serious. Just for one minute.” 

It kills you to say it, because part of you is convinced this is a vision of the boy you’ve been chasing after for so long. This is the boy who is best friends with Nancy. This is the boy who is always invited without hesitation to smoke with Jonathan and Argyle. This is the boy that Steve and Robin had ranted and raved about in all those classes before you’d met him. This is the boy you’d met that first night in the bar in brief passing, and had been seeking out ever since. 

A boy who felt like coming home after a long week.

It kills you to tell him to quiet down all the grins and jokes that are making your heart ache in such a terribly peculiar way.

“I’m sorry,” something in you gleams with gratuity when his grin takes it’s time fading, him throwing up his hands in faux defense, his playful tone still woven carefully. He’s not shutting you out. “I can be serious. I- Give me a second. Scout’s honor, I can stop fucking around.” 

“You better,” you jilt, caving into the joking ever so slightly. 

It’s easy to do when he looks at you this way. His eyes sparkle as if the honesty has freed him of some great weight. However he had expected you to react, it wasn’t this way. 

All at once, he has become something brand new to you. You’re in his sweatshirt, barefoot on his balcony as you can still smell his last cigarette lingering in the air, and you wonder if you’ve never considered yourself a morning person because you’ve never experienced a Sunday morning with Eddie. If you had felt his morning light like this before, even in a sleep-deprived haze, you would have certainly enjoyed the early hours sooner. 

“Okay, okay,” he takes a deep breath, forces away the grin you can still see in the crinkles beside his eyes, “To answer your question, no. We weren’t really friends, I didn’t even know his name and I’m pretty sure he didn’t know mine. He just knew my order.”

“Whiskey and coke,” you whisper, pulling a knee up to your chin, resting it and looking at Eddie with unbridled softness. Fifteen hours ago, you couldn’t have known nor cared about his go-to drink.

“Whiskey and coke,” he confirms. It’s in the pull of his lips – he’s fighting another smile, feeling just as soft as you are at the way you’ve learned something new about him, “Not that it’s hard to remember. Definitely easier than an amaretto sour.” 

“Amaretto sours are not hard to remember,” you shake your head ever so slightly, chin slipping and lips dragging across the skin of your knee. Eddie’s eyes waste no time focusing on the movement, “Okay. So you two weren’t really friends, that’s good to know. I guess my next question would be, was he working that night?” 

Eddie leans forward, elbows pressing into the tops of his thighs, “Are you asking if I’m badass enough to storm into a bar and throw a punch at the bartender on duty to defend your honor?” 

His words paint quite the picture for you. “Did you?”

“No. Lower your expectations of me, please.” 

It takes everything in you to not just throw your head back in laughter, having to settle on giggles suffocated against the skin of your knee still. You wrap your arms around your shin tightly, keeping your leg folded up into you as you shake with the soft laughter. 

“Okay, one last question - who threw the first punch?” you sigh. The image of how fearful Eddie had looked when he’d first admitted to this entire ordeal is silly now. You already know the answer to this question, he wouldn’t have been so nervous to tell you if he hadn’t been the one instigating the entire thing, but you ask it to humor the two of you. 

It’s a good distraction from the buds and blooms alike, all awakening along your vines. The vines don’t feel so constricting anymore. As a matter of fact, you think you’re able to recognize their beauty for the first time. Verdant greenery lined with splashes of reds, of violets, of yellows that are almost the same brilliant shade of gold that his eyes seemingly flash every time the sun hits them just right. 

“I did,” he answers just as you expected. He also shrinks into himself, just as you had also expected, “I just saw him there, and- actually, I don’t know if this next part is just an insult to injury but I…” he trails off, not taking a single breath as he meets your gaze. You’re sure he’s searching for anger, for repulsiveness, for hurt. He’ll find none. You only nod your head and encourage him to keep going, “Okay, he was there on a fuckin’ date, sweetheart. A date, the night after he stood you up. So I just…I just decked him. And honestly? I don’t regret it. He deserved it.” 

When he’s finally finished spilling his guts, you’re left fighting a grin and an overflowing chest of blooms. He’s flushed and nervous and goddamn it, he beat the shit out of some dude in your honor. You should scold him or be more upset, but you only start laughing again. 

“Why are you laughing?” Eddie scrunches up his face, continuing to lean forward, almost as if trying to get closer to you, “Seriously, what’s so funny about that?” 

You’ve thrown your head back in delight now, just as you had wanted to earlier, and release your hold on your leg as it falls back down from your chest, “Jesus Christ, I wish I could have seen that in person.” 

Eddie’s stunned. But you mean it – if your heartbroken self from six months ago had witnessed that, you would have considered Eddie your best friend immediately. This entire feud would have been cut six months short just from one simple punch. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp out, desperately trying to compose yourself once more, “I really shouldn’t condone violence. I just – man, I cried over that guy. A whole month of those stupid, cheesy, ‘good-morning-beautiful’ texts, and he had just left me hanging, y’know? I mean, I’m sure he’s not a bad person-”

“No,” Eddie interrupts, smiling right along with you, “No, as far as we should be concerned, he’s a fucking asshole. Fuck defending him, we’re never going to see him again anyways.” 

 We’re never going to see him again. 

Eddie probably has no idea what he’s done, referring to the two of you as a joint unit for the first time in a future tense, but it makes you ache all over. That heartache and warmth you felt for him is no longer secluded to just your chest; you feel it from your toes all the way to your scalp, traveling and leaving kisses of goosebumps in its trail. A sudden yearning floods your entire nervous system, the entire roadmap of your heart and your veins and your arteries – you like the image of you and Eddie, Eddie and you, still being a resemblance of a pair beyond just these measly twenty four hours. You like to imagine being able to call him up out of boredom some time next week. You like the thought of him joining on bar crawls with you and the girls. You like the thought of spending every Sunday morning with him from here on out. 

Some of those are reasonable. Some of those aren’t. The yearning rushes through you all the same. 

“Yeah,” you agree softly, “We’re never going to see him again. Fuck him.” 

Eddie hums and leans back in his chair, finally beginning to relax, leaving you a moment to reflect. 

He was telling the truth, he had been honest; he had gotten banned from a bar for you. He’d seen the bartender who stood you up, and he’d decided to defend your honor. Even after that night. Even after that fight. Even after the glass you had thrown. 

Even after the cruel words he had said. 

The yearning stops in its tracks, coming to a rough halt as you glance up at him sharply. 

Even after the cruel words he had said, even after claiming you weren’t someone who was wanted, he’d defended you. 

“You know what?” he suddenly says, but your mind is still whirling and you can only hum in response, “I kind of like honesty. I sort of dig it,” you wish you could muster up more than a smile as he boyishly grins at you, “What else do you wanna know? Hit me, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. The yearning rushes past the floodgates, the pink strikes your cheeks, the ache rings out from the very hollows of your bones. 

You know what you really want to ask him can’t be answered right now. Because even with the change in him, the one that weakens your knees and has you wishing for things in the future, he was still once the man from that night. He still once made you bleed, made you cry. And even if he’s apologized, and you know he means it, it can’t erase that fact. 

And it worries you. Because as all the feelings swell in your chest, you’re left with yet another unanswered question. 

Why would you defend me after that fight?

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taglist is now closed.

[bvidzsoo]

Love you, forever

❀Boyfriend!Mingi❀

TW: nothing, except angst and then fluff *cries*

Word count: 2,4k

A/N: Am I okay? Not really. Did Mingi's IG post send me into a spiral of depression? Kinda yeah. Did writing this help? Abso-fucking-lutely not, I'm even more in shambles, I don't even know what life is anymore guys, I'm hurting, bye. I'm fine, don't y'all worry, at least I'll be fine tomorrow lol Mingi's IG post really destroyed me, I'm a libra, I'm dramatic okay? Your feedback is appreciated! This little piece is for all of my fellow Mingtis' who are hanging on by a thread, love y'all! And please listen to Tunnel to get the feels even more going, trust me! *cries again*

            I couldn’t help but sigh for the nth time as I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, chest tightening the longer I stared at my notebooks. It felt like nothing was going my way anymore, like everything was falling apart. I couldn’t define the tipping point of it all, but everything was starting to become too much. The stress, every new day brought more challenges without an obvious solution. The assignments felt like they were only adding up more and more, overtaking every thought of mine and only inducing more stress. Things started to become overbearing, I started feeling like a failure. There was a constant pressure on my chest, threatening, about to burst just at a simple innocent glance thrown my way by a stranger. I ignored it as best as I could, the thoughts and emotions, but it was getting harder day by day. It didn’t help that after a misunderstanding, my boyfriend wasn’t talking to me…everything just felt too much. Like I was overstimulated without a concrete reason, and not even my friends could help anymore. It felt lonely, it felt cold, and it felt downright depressing. It was fine as long as I wasn’t at home, as long as I wasn’t left on my own with my loud thoughts making me feel even more miserable.

It's been three days since we’ve spoken, Mingi and I, and it was maddening. I knew this didn’t mean the end of our relationship, but I never took it well when he was upset because of me. Especially when he was the one to pull away, to give me the cold shoulder. Especially not right now, when all I wished for was to curl up by his side and inhale his familiar cologne, closing my eyes and relaxing into my boyfriend’s arms. I needed him here, and I knew he needed his space when upset, but I felt like being selfish and just texting him. If the tears in my eyes weren’t proof enough that I was seriously on the verge of breaking, then I don’t know what else was. I sniffed loudly and pushed my notebooks aside, blood boiling just at the simple sight of them. It’s those damned notes which were making me feel like this, and the impeding feeling of failure, of failing another important class and never finishing this wrenched course and university altogether. It was frightening, and I didn’t want to be alone anymore. My friends were always a text away, but my body was craving the warmth of my boyfriend, my soul was yearning for his. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, and I didn’t want to drown and wallow in this horrible feeling anymore. I needed the love of my life next to me.

Quickly wiping my tears clean from my eyes, I adjusted my glasses on the bridge of my nose and unlocked my phone, noticing that I had gotten a notification from Instagram. At the beginning of our relationship, which was quite a few years ago, Mingi and I had set each other’s accounts to send notifications when one of us posted, being madly in love and eager to see what the other was up to. Despite the passing of time, and of our emotions only deepening, we never turned the setting off, and I was surprised to find a notification from his personal page. With another sniff, I clicked on the app and was presented with ten images of my boyfriend, out and about, enjoying his day. His black hair was fluffy and not necessarily styled, but the messy look always fit him extraordinarily. His bare face looked healthy, and it had a nice shine to it under the lightning of the place he was at, and I couldn’t help but sniff again as I scrolled through the pictures, trying to ignore the fact that the blue and greyish sweater he wore was a gift from me for his birthday two years ago. And perhaps the tears wouldn’t have sprung free from my eyes if it weren’t for that video in which he was dancing to the music softly playing in the background, locking and popping in tiny as he grinned and chuckled. Mingi was a dance major with a minor in music, and he was living his best possible life at the moment. He was happy and content with where he was at, and it always brought so much joy to my soul, but seeing him enjoying himself while I was wallowing in self-pity certainly set off an uncontrollable amount of tears and ugly gasps for air. It made me happy that he was doing okay, but seeing him made me miss him terribly, and I couldn’t help but close my phone and lay down on my bed, curling up into a ball as I cried into my pillow.

This crying session was really due time, the emotions bundled up for way too long now, but it still felt horrible that I had to try and push the feeling of loneliness away and comfort myself, while foolishly trying to smell Mingi’s cologne since I was wearing his oversized blouse. The only problem was that I had stolen it from him a long time ago and it didn’t carry his cologne anymore, it had my scent, and that just made me gasp for air as my heart clenched more, making me miss him even more. And perhaps if it weren’t for the sobs increasing in volume and the self-wallowing I was so focused on, I would’ve noticed or heard the jiggle of keys and the opening of the front door. But I was too busy ripping my glasses off my head and throwing them behind me, rubbing the heels of my palms roughly against my eyes and trying to calm my irregular breathing as my throat finally seemed to ease up, my chest somewhat lighter than before. But I knew the crying session wasn’t over, it was just a matter of time until another strong wave of sadness and yearning would hit me, sending me into another fit of ugly sobs. I just couldn’t help it, it felt like the world around me was falling apart and I couldn’t do anything about it, just let it ruin me in the process.

But as I pushed myself back up into a sitting position and rubbed the snot off my face with the sleeve of my blouse, I heard footsteps outside of my door, startling me. Very few people had keys to my apartment. Like my parents, bestest friend and…well, Mingi. We didn’t live together yet, we were planning on moving in together soon, but both of us had keys to each other’s apartments. And I knew it couldn’t have been my parents as they live five hours away and never visit on weekdays, neither could it be my best friend as she was away on a two-week business trip with her work colleagues. And that could only mean…that it was Mingi. And almost as if sensing my confused state, the door to my room opened and Mingi stood in the doorway, dressed and looking the same as in the pictures.

“Hey, I—baby?” His raspy voice was quiet and his eyebrows furrowed when his eyes fell on me. I sniffed loudly, frozen for a second, until another wave of yearning and loneliness hit hard, making me cry again as I stared at my boyfriend helplessly, “Oh my God, what’s wrong?”

He rushed inside, almost tripping over his feet, but made it to the bed safely and before he could really as much as reach out for me, I sprung forward and jumped on his lap, wrapping my limbs around him like a koala. Mingi grunted in surprise due to the sudden attack, but his arms were instantly wrapped around my middle as I held onto him tightly, hiding my face in his warm neck as I tried to control my breathing and stop the tears. He was here now; I wasn’t alone anymore. I had him and I would always have him, no matter what. His body was warm and soft against mine, so familiar as it engulfed mine into his, Mingi’s nose nuzzling against the top of my head as I slipped my fingers through his soft hair, sighing contently at the feeling of being held. In his arms, it was always as if the world disappeared, like it was just the two of us, like nothing and nobody could hurt us. He’s been the one and only man to ever make me feel like that, and it made me think quite often how lucky I was to have found such person. And Mingi’s sweet, yet musky scent finally made my sobs settle into loud sniffs, arms tightening around his neck involuntarily as if I was afraid he’d leave.

“Baby?” Mingi’s voice was small, almost afraid, as I felt a kiss pressed against the top of my head as he shifted, bringing us higher up on the bed as he held me close against himself.

“I missed you,” I croaked out, lips trembling slightly, “so much, Mingi.”

“I’m sorry.” Mingi whispered, letting out a heavy sigh, “I shouldn’t have ignored you for three days, that was shitty of me. Why are you crying? What happened?”

I sighed and shrugged lightly, “I don’t know, I just—”

I chewed on my bottom lip, letting the silence stretch on as Mingi carefully cupped my cheeks and raised my head up, our faces close to each other as we stared in each other’s eyes. Mingi’s sharp eyes were soft and filled with so much worry, that it made me pout as I tried to put my jumbled thoughts into words, “I don’t know. Things got too much; I suppose. The classes and assignments, the fear that I won’t finish my dissertation in time, and you then getting upset…I’ve been feeling under the weather for quite a while now, actually. I guess I just broke today.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingi’s expression was sour and it made me feel guilty as I looked away from his eyes, following the sharp bridge of his nose, well defined and tall. I shrugged, getting comfortable in his lap as I laced my fingers together around his neck, Mingi’s warm and big hands settling on my hips.

“You worry a lot about me, Mingi, I didn’t want to burden you again with something so insignificant—”

“Your wellbeing is very significant to me, Y/N, and you know that.” His voice had an edge to it as his grip slightly tightened against me, his own lips forming a pout. I stared at him for a few seconds before sniffing again, eyes taking in his tan face, his dark and warm eyes, the mole under his eye and on his jaw, and his plush lips. I had missed him dearly.

“I know.” I mumbled and looked back into his eyes when Mingi pulled our bodies flushed together, leaning ahead to nudge his nose against mine, his breath tickling my face. I couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on my lips, and I averted my eyes shyly as Mingi chuckled.

“I’m not upset anymore.” He said, licking his lips before bopping his nose against mine again, “And you’re too stressed to study more today.”

My lips pulled into a tight line as I hummed, shoulders sagging a little, but Mingi suddenly grinned incredibly wide, his uneven and protruding front teeth showing, a little ‘imperfection’ I adored way too much about him. His eyes suddenly held an exited glint in them and I couldn’t help but feel intrigued, raising my eyebrows in question at him.

“I brought you your favorite cake, as an apology.” He bit his lower lip as his cheeks lightly flushed, “But the weather is really nice today and I think some fresh air will do you good.”

“What are you suggesting?” I asked as I leaned forward, resting my chin on his left shoulder as I hugged him tightly.

“We drive out to our favorite spot by the waterfall and have a little picnic, we can pick up some food on the way, and then drive around aimlessly after the sun sets.” There was a short pause and a low hum coming from deep within Mingi’s chest, “How does that sound?”

New tears gathered in my eyes, but not for the previous reasons I was crying about not even twenty minutes ago. My chest was filled to the brim and my heart was beating fast and loudly in my ears, filling me with warmth and so much love that I felt like I would burst. Mingi always knew what I needed, he was always there for me, he always provided whatever he could best. I chuckled quietly and sniffed loudly again, nodding my head wordlessly before I pulled back and looked him in the eyes, a smile stretching onto my lips.

“I love you.”

Mingi’s giggle was deep and low, rolling his eyes playfully as if he tried to brush off those words, but unable to do so, “And I love you.”

I closed my eyes and leaned forward, closing the small gap between our lips as I pressed a soft, but lingering kiss against Mingi’s soft and warm lips. He tasted like the watermelon chapstick I have given him while we were on vacation, his lips chapped from the salty ocean air. And everything suddenly felt in place, I found serenity within myself as Mingi kissed back eagerly but softly, his lips capturing mine between his as his large palm melted into my lower back. Being in his arms and feeling him against myself brought a sense of security and contentment, of acceptance, and want that only Mingi could provide. His teeth lightly grazed against my lower lip as he nipped at it before just slightly pulling back, pressing his forehead against mine as he nuzzled his nose against the skin of my cheek, making me flush at the endearing gesture.

“I assume that’s a yes, then.” I chuckled and pressed a swift kiss against Mingi’s lips again.

“Yes, love of my life, let’s go.” I knew the nickname always flustered Mingi, making him call me cheesy. But this time he said nothing as he giggled quietly, scrunching his nose and squeezing his eyes shut in a cute manner, making my cheeks hurt from how widely I was smiling at him.

God, I have missed him, the love of my life. Song Mingi.

Masterlist

[sturnstars5]

i love you, i’m sorry-matt sturniolo

you and matt swore you were done, but are you?

warnings: fluff, swearing, happy ending

*there is a flashback in the story it’s in blue!*

empty. emptiness was what you felt. it had been two weeks since you left the love of your life, matt. you try to tell yourself, “well, it was his fault” or “i’ll be better off without him, it’ll just take time”, but nothing worked. you missed him.

you sat on your couch, something you had been doing more than usual lately, and stared outside through the window. you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything other than overthink. you would replay the moments of you and matt’s breakup argument in your mind, like it was a movie on loop 24/7. and just when you would feel a sliver of joy, the movie would start again, leaving you to drown in self pity.

it was getting late, so you picked yourself up off of the couch and laid down in bed, staring at the ceiling. sleep wasn’t exactly on your side.

it was about 1:30 am, and you were still awake when you heard your front door creak open.

what the fuck?

you sat straight up and froze, paralyzed in fear, not knowing what to to next. normally, matt would take control and go see what was happening, but he wasn’t there. he was gone.

you hear the persons foot steps get louder and louder until you hear them stop right in front of your bedroom door.

the door opened slowly, revealing a puffy eyed, sad looking matt.

he looked awful to say the least, he looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. his face was all swollen, his eyes bloodshot with dark bags under them. his face was glistening with tears, and his nose was runny.

“matt,” you say.

“i know, i should’ve called, im sorry.”

“you almost gave me a heart attack! do you know what time it is?”

“yes, i know, okay? i said im sorry.”

“why are you here matt, i thought we were over.”

“i know that’s what we said, but i cant stop thinking about you, about us.”

“matt,”

“i know, y/n, i know what i did was wrong. going to that party was a whole wrong decision in itself. but i still love you, y/n.”

“but matt, you pinky swore you wouldn’t cheat, and you broke it! how am i supposed to trust you now?”

“i don’t know, i just hope you can find it in your heart to give me one more chance.”

you think back to the night you found out about the party…

1:00 am, 2:15 am, 3:40 am, matt still wasn’t home. he said he was filming with his brothers, and you believed him. you called him, and he didn’t answer,m. you then called nick and chris, and they didn’t answer either. you give up, just telling yourself that their phones died, and you go scroll on instagram in your bed. nick posted a picture of himself and chris at a party.

where was matt?

you look harder, only to see matt’s lips pressed against another girl. her hands threading through his soft brown hair. matt was yours, so why was he with her?

matt arrived home, drunk, stumbling lazily into your shared bedroom.

“hey baby.” he says with a smirk.

“don’t call me that, matthew.”

“what the fuck is your deal, y/n?”

“this!” you say, throwing your phone in his face. you’re zoomed in on him and the other girl, matt looking at the photo. even his drunken state cant cover up the guilt and regret in his mind.

“who’s that?” he says, lying.

“that’s you, matt! who else would it be? you know what you did matt, and i know too. i’m not as dumb as you think i am.”

“it was just one kiss, so what? it was a party, and we were needy and drunk.”

“have you lost your fucking mind, matt?

“no i haven’t, but clearly you have, bitch!”

“i’m not gonna be talked to like this by my own boyfriend, so get out.”

“what?”

“i said, get. out. matt. we’re done.”

“come on, don’t you think you’re being overdramatic?”

“get out! now!”

“y/n?” you hear matt say softly.

you snap out of your memory, taking a second to focus back on reality.

“listen, y/n, i’m not asking for you to let your guard down again and take me back, i just guess i want you to know that i love you, and that im sorry.”

matt stares at you, his face full of desperation and vulnerability, and most of all, regret. a single tear rolls down his face, dropping on the floor as it falls off.

“do you promise to be loyal, matt?”

“yes, of course i do. i wont screw it up this time.”

“i’m serious matt, i cant take that again. i cant go through that again.”

“i promise.”

“okay then.”

“so, what now?” matt asks.

“do you wanna, maybe try again?” you ask softly.

“yes. i swear i wont fuck it all up this time.” matt replies.

you and matt hug, and for the first time in a while, you feel genuinely happy and loved.

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too matt.”

kind of a rushed fic but wtv!!

[gildedneon]

That Which I Cannot See

That Which I Cannot See - Part 1 - Pure Imagination

Respectfully, you may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it. My work is only intended for those 18 and older as it contains explicit adult themes.

Summary: Basically A Star is Born but make it Sleep Token. A video of you singing Take Me Back to Eden gets attention online and you're invited to sing backup vocals at their next concert. Only, you end up doing a lot more than just that. The first in what will be at least a 3 part series.

Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader 

Tags: Hand stuff (for now), mask play, concealed identity play, obscured vision/partial blindfolding, is this a musical now?, shower play with the lights off, monster kink? if you squint?, spiritual cult leader Vessel, dirty talk.

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: I enjoy candlelit showers while blasting Sleep Token and inspiration struck one day while listening to Take Me Back to Eden. What if? So I wrote it. I have already planned out a part 2 & 3, so fear not, our journey has just begun.

Read on Ao3

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So there I was, doom scrolling Instagram when *ping*

“Sleep_Token: We loved your video” My brows furrow. That can’t actually be their official account. Tapping the notification, I switch to my finsta, where I post anonymous videos of myself singing. I recently shared a clip of an acoustic cover of Take Me Back to Eden that got a decent amount of attention, but I didn’t think it got that much attention. The message thread opens just as another is coming in. 

“Sleep_Token: How would you feel about joining us sometime?” What the hell? 

I click their profile. Blue check mark. Holy shit. Shock has me so caught up I can’t even think of a clever response. Or any response for that matter.

What does ‘joining us' mean? Like for an orgy or going to a show? Because I’m down for both, but I only have tickets for one of those things. At least my brain is still cracking jokes. I stare at my phone and figure out something to say.

“Hi! Thanks! I actually will be at the show this Friday. I can’t wait :)” My heart does a little somersault as I hit send. 

“Sleep_Token: Perfect. Our manager will reach out for details. Bring something black to wear. We’ve got the rest covered!”

What the fuck does that mean? Reaching out for details for what? What is ‘the rest’ and how is it ‘covered’???

*ping*

The DM from the manager comes in. 

On auto-pilot, I go back and forth with the manager. Realization sets in… I’m going to be backstage at the Sleep Token show. I’m going to meet the Espera and sing with them. On stage. At the Sleep Token show. Friday. In less than a week. What the fuck.

Four days… I have four days to perfect my outfit. Immediately, I FaceTime my best friend. She answers on the second ring.

“Callie… you’re never gonna believe this.”

“Alright??… spill bitch”

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My stride lengthens to keep up with the woman leading me through bright lit hallways. The week had flown by in a blur. Now it’s Friday and I’m being led backstage in sweats and a tank. I hadn’t fully wrapped my head around their invitation. But what I really hadn’t wrapped my head around was what had been developing since that night. Once I had gotten off the phone with Callie, I saw I had a DM request from a username I didn’t recognize.

“Hey it’s V” I think my brain had short circuited. It all felt like it came out of nowhere. I guess that’s the thing about change, it doesn’t happen until it just… does. We had started chatting  and it continued throughout the week, getting to know each other a bit, what we enjoy, what we don’t, our favorite colors, and even a bit of flirting. Another strange development in a situation that materialized all too quickly. But it was exciting. It has been a while since I’ve been truly excited about something or …someone. 

I think it helps that we don’t really know each other. Our identities are a secret. It’s sort of like getting to know the contents of a box without getting to know the box, if that makes sense. It’s hard to explain, but I like it. Being myself comes easier this way. There are less distractions.

My guide comes to a stop and knocks on a door. Anticipation grips me as it opens, a woman dressed in black greets us with a smile on her face. 

“Come on in! We’re excited to meet you.” The Espera, or the three female background vocalists, usher me into the dressing room and to a spot in front of the mirror. Their welcoming energy helps quell my buzzing thoughts. We fall into easy conversation as I work on my hair and makeup. The dress I chose is sexy but functional. Thin straps, square neckline dipping in a quick plunge, finished off with a thigh high slit. My hair tumbles around my shoulders and down my back in a lion’s mane of waves. My lips are painted the darkest shade of red, the only real part of my face that will be seen from behind the gold mask that lays on the counter before me.

The Espera give me a crash course in backup vocals. No pressure, just last minute winging it in front of 13,000 people. I still can’t wrap my head around this, even as they help fit the mask to my face. It looks just like theirs, intricate bronze scrollwork curling down my cheeks, leaving only my mouth and jaw exposed. The mesh panels over the eyes allow me to make out shapes and light. So I can see plenty, but it doesn’t feel that way. For me, I might as well be blind. It’s the feeling of being out of control, a vulnerability that leaves me a bit raw and on edge.

A knock raps at the door and my ears grasp at every little sound, attempting to make up for my lack of sight. The women gather as it clicks open. Their blurry forms disappear to the sounds of scuffling shoes. The door closes. My blurred vision watches as a dark figure slowly makes its way across the mirrored space. Fully blind I would know it was him. The magnetism of his presence is threatening to drag me in like the gravity of a blackhole. It’s supermassive…

I hold my breath as he surveys me. It would be a lie to say that I am not intimidated under his gaze. Despite the disguise, the feeling of vulnerability remains.

“This suits you. How does it feel?” He purrs his approval. The tension in my chest eases. 

“Thank you. How does what feel?”

“Your transformation.”

“Transformation? Into what?” My breath hitches, I can see his dark figure looming behind me.

“Your true self.”

“I’m not really sure what you mean by that. As excited as I am, I am also a little nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?”

“I’m not sure if it’s one specific thing. I just don’t know what to expect. I’ve never done this before. I know I’m wearing a mask but it still feels scary to have people actually watching me. This is worlds away from posting anonymous videos online.”

“I can understand. For us, the disguises are about showing the parts of ourselves that do not feel comfortable in our daily lives. Whether that is because we feel they should be hidden or we lack a suitable outlet. So it’s really not a disguise at all, but a revelation. By wearing this mask, I take off the invisible one I wear everyday. I embody the aspects of myself that I wouldn’t otherwise. So ask yourself… What would that feel like for you? Who would you allow yourself to be if you knew you were free from judgement?”

“I think it would feel freeing. But how am I supposed to figure that out tonight?”

“A lot can happen in just one night.”

Unsure of what to say, I sigh and tilt my head. A gentle tap on the side of my mask is his response. I stare straight ahead, looking upon our blurry reflections in the mirror.

“Envision yourself right now. A different version of you, a fantasy. Who could you be? How would you carry yourself? What presence do you bring? Take a minute. Close your eyes if you need. Think of the answer and then feel it. Become it. This is the transformation. It is first in your mind and then, in your being.”

I take a breath, close my eyes, and do as he says. I see the masked version of me, painted with black, a version of me that no one knows. Not even myself. She can be anything. I can be anything. This essence blossoms in my bones, radiating until it anchors itself into my being. Excitement ripples under my skin. I open my eyes.

“How does it feel?”

“It feels… different. I see myself but also… more.”

Vessel tilts his head.

“I saw paint. On my neck and it ran down.” Skimming my hands over my arms to illustrate my point.

“Stand.” I pray my knees don’t give out as I follow his command.. His proximity sends little electric waves skating along my skin.

“You know it’s true what they say. Depriving one sense, heightens the others. Close your eyes.”

I do as he says. Anticipation coursing through me.

“Touch, for example.” 

His hands skate up my arms, over my bare shoulders to my neck. His fingers stroke along my skin, pressing into the muscles and working at the tension. Other parts of me start to crave the same and the weight of arousal settles between my thighs. I exhale a sigh. His fingertips play along my skin, alighting little sparks. Just as I’m being lulled into a daze, he stops. Moving away from me, he leans against the counter, silently staring. The vulnerability isn’t as uncomfortable now. Security has replaced whatever fear I felt before. He reaches for something on the counter.

“May I? I have an idea for you with this paint.” 

“You may.” I tease lightly and I hear the sound of spinning plastic. 

The light of the room is dimmed as he steps closer. Both hands come around my neck and fear takes root in an instant. What am I doing? I’m alone with a man who is dressed like a demon god, his hands are wrapped around my throat, and we are in a room where no one can hear me scream…probably. Oh no…. Should I be worried about how that turned me on?

Instead of squeezing the air from my lungs, he works the paint onto my skin. His fingers splay as he drags his hands down both sides of my neck. His fingernails scrape over my collarbones, stopping just before the neckline of my dress. My eyes fall closed and I can’t help the sigh that escapes or the shudder that runs through my body. Nor can I help imagining what it would feel like to have his hands on my thighs. Leaving a sinful trail of evidence, as he explored more sensual areas of my body. Circling behind me, his hands clasp my arms, leaving one last mark.

“Look at yourself.” His deep voice jarring me from my haze. Even with my obscured vision, I can clearly see the twin trails of black that drag down my neck, stopping just before my breasts and the stark handprints on my upper arms.

“It looks like I’ve been marked by a monster.” I say, amusement clear in my tone. 

Silence. A brief moment of tension, then his hand wraps around my throat. He leans closer to me.

“Are you calling me a monster?” His teasing is mixed with tones of darkness. I shudder at the thrill. 

“No. Monsters are scary and I’m not scared of you” …Yet 

“Do you want to be scared of me?” His voice is low in my ear.

“Maybe a little” Maybe more than a little.

I see his head tilt in the mirror. I can’t see his eyes but I feel them flaying me alive, gleaning every dark desire snaking through my body. He releases me, putting a bit more distance between us. 

“As much as I would love to explore that, it’s about time we get ready to go on. You’ll be brilliant. If you get nervous just remember my touch and how it’s plain for everyone to see.” I could feel him wink at me as he said that. It wasn’t the worst suggestion. That would certainly distract my thoughts from wandering into anxiety, but it would distract me in other ways. Blushing, I step through the door he holds for me, and follow him down the hall.

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Like a cutscene in a movie, suddenly I’m on stage and the show is taking off. The lights and sounds are overwhelming. I allow myself a few minutes to adjust. Slowly, I begin to pick up the swaying movements from the Espera. Taking cues from their hazy shapes. Then, I allow my voice to softly join theirs. The flashing mass of screaming fans mere feet away is difficult to tune out, but I let them blur into shapes through my mask and my voice rises to the music. With each song they play, my confidence grows, and I feel that vision of myself, from the dressing room, coming to life.

Well, I know what you want from me

You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception

Setting you free, so you take what you want and leave

Excitement strikes like lightning. Of course I knew this song was coming, but being a part of it? Dancing while every instrument reverberates through my body?  

Won’t you come and dance in the dark with me?

Tapping into that sensual side of me, I allow it to take form, my hips swaying to the rhythm. I trail my fingertips over my body, and pleasure ripples behind my touch. Hearing whispers of my voice wafting through the background is unreal.

Lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails

I once made a comment to Callie about how I fantasize about being in an orgy while this song plays because it never fails to turn me on. The way the beat builds and morphs, the lyrics on top of that, it feels like seduction. My voice vibrates through my being, sparking a dark desire that flares with the melody. My eyes fall shut as I remember our time together in the dressing room. I feel his phantom touch along my skin and surrender myself to the sensations.

You make me wish I could disappear

The music dies down, somber notes begin to rise. Recognition flutters in my heart. This is the song that first drew my attention to him… and his attention to me. My eyes snap open on instinct, despite my obstructed view, I see a dark figure approach me, blocking out the crowd. My heart begins to race. I tilt my masked face up at his towering form. He grabs my hand and leads me from behind my place in the background. There we are, front and center. I have no idea what he is doing or what he expects of me. My blood roars through my ears, beating against the tense curiosity of the all too quiet crowd. Curious cheers ring out, but my focus is drawn to him.

I dream in phosphorescence 

Bleed through spaces

My nails scrape restlessly against the fabric of my dress. I have no idea what he wants from me. We never talked about this. Am I just supposed to stand here? Am I supposed to sing a specific part or harmony? My thoughts race as panic begins to sink its claws into me. 

His finger curls under my chin. The gentle weight of him pulls me from the quicksand of my mind. 

I’m transfixed as he sings to me.

My, my those eyes like fire I’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre. 

A calm intensity settles in as I focus on the figure before me. Like a siren song his entire being draws me in until there is no one else. No crowd. Not even the band. Just him and me.

The music begins to build. I feel it in my chest. His hand lightly strokes my chin in invitation. The energy builds in my stomach and moves up my throat. God, it feels like it’s going to burst out of me. So I close my eyes and let it.

I will travel far beyond the path of reason. Take me back to Eden. Take me back to Eden

Our melody turns into harmonious wails. 

Take me back to Edeeeennn

My eyes open to a flash of white teeth as he grins down at me, the music continuing its heavy intensity. That grin against his mask and paint, looks every bit like the monster I mentioned. The music drops into a quiet tempo and he steps closer, leaning in as his hood brushes my cheek. 

“Stay.” He commands, before sauntering off, just as three chords are played. 

Well yeah I spit blood when I wake up

He crouches towards the swarming crowd as he recites the lines. Waving hands and screaming smiles line the front of the crowd. As I watch him move across the stage, I remember his painted marks on my skin. My cheeks burn as he approaches me again.

I need you to see me for what I have become

Long fingers wrap around mine, bringing my hand to grasp the microphone, joining him for the chorus. 

My, my those eyes like fire 

My voice is a sweet backdrop contrasting his, as we sing together until the beat drops off. The hand folded atop mine loosens, his arm falling slack and I let go of the mic. His free hand sneaks through my hair, cradling my head in his hand. The sounds of birds chirping flit around the notes of the piano. This intimate moment sets me ablaze as I remember there are thousands of people watching. Jealousy licks at my sides from the scrutiny of their gaze. I pay them no mind. 

His hands fall from my hair, as he lifts the mic, but sings to me.

I guess it goes to show does it not 

That we’ve no idea what we’ve got until we lose it

His words resonate through my chest. Understanding the opportunity tonight presents, I want to make the most of this night, of this connection, and just enjoy whatever is to come.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence

Sound pours from me as I join him singing once again. The music sweeps me along and I ascend with it.

We were tangled up like branches in a flood

What happens next takes me by surprise. Vessel loops an arm around my waist, drawing me in until my dress brushes against his belt. He screams the ending lines with such intensity I feel as if I’m being hit by a hurricane. I can barely make out what he’s saying. My heart seizes with another little thrill of fear. All I see is the fierce glint of teeth through the contortions of his mouth as the music fades out. 

Piano keys begin to play, as he leads me back to my place among the Espera. This is the last song of the show, Euclid. What a beautiful note to end on. I channel all the joy in my little heart into singing this final song. I know maybe the lyrics aren’t the happiest but I can’t help but feel light while singing it. Our voices fade out, as he brings things to a close.

The whites of your eyes, turn black in the lowlight

So give me the night, the night, the night…

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We stopped by the dressing room long enough for me to grab my belongings and then he was leading me through more hallways. He holds a door open for me and I step into a gaudy locker room. Leading the way, I follow him through the space and into a long room. The harsh fluorescence glares off of the white tile lining the walls. On the left, is a mirrored wall of sinks and who knows what else. On the right, benches border each door frame, opening into showers. 

We walk a few stalls down, I hang my tote and arrange my clothes on the bench as he wanders away. Pulling out a hair tie, I twist my hair up into a messy bun. Butterflies twist through my belly as he returns to my side, hanging a towel on my hook. We’ve shared this entire night, this entire week, without seeing each other’s face, perhaps we’ve seen a deeper truth. Either way, I’m not ready for it to end.

Inspiration strikes and I stride back to the main door and begin to flick the lights off one by one until all that is left is the glow of the adjoining locker room. His masked face tilts as his attention focuses on me. Grabbing the door handle, I pull it closed behind me until only a necessary sliver of light shines through. Giving my eyes a second to adjust, I carefully make my way back to my bench. I feel another thrill of excitement at the atmosphere. The near pitch black, the silence all around us, almost like something you’d see in a scary movie. I hear clothes rustling from the bench he is at. I’m still working on undoing the straps of my heels when I hear the harsh splash of water against tile. Once all of my outfit has made it into my tote, I take cautious steps into the awaiting shower.

“I wanted to keep the mystery going but maybe it’s a bit too dark.” So dark, that I can barely make out the other person in my proximity. My hands feel along the cool tiles for support.

“Give it a minute. Your eyes will adjust.” He’s calm. Still. Giving me space to acclimate. No longer clutching at the wall, I can make out the shape of him easier. Barely, I see the steam from the water and pumps of soap attached to the wall.

“Will they adjust enough to be able to tell the difference between which is the soap and which is the conditioner?” I tease.

“Hmm might have to go with good ole trial and error on that” Our laughter echoes against the walls. 

Stepping closer, I let my gaze wander. The lines of his muscles catch what little light there is. My breath hitches, the difference in our height is exaggerated now that I am barefoot. The way he looms over me keeps his face masked in shadow. Again, the thrill of being alone with this strange, dark god shivers through me, bringing my awareness back to the arousal that has been burning all night.

“Well I will gladly volunteer as the test subject.” 

“And I will gladly accept. I didn’t want to assume…”

“I would actually prefer if you do assume.” I step closer to him. Even in the pitch black I can see his head tilt down at me.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

“I did.  I’ve never experienced anything like it.” I say almost reverently.

“Shall we keep the experience going then?” A shiver runs through my body

“Yes.” I breathe..

“Sing for me?” My brows jump up. Posting videos of me singing alone in my house and singing background vocals could not prepare me for this.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything” My mind goes blank all for one song. I take a deep breath to still my nerves. 

Come with me, and you’ll be, in a world of pure imagination

Tentatively, I recite the words.

Take a look and you’ll see

Into your imagination

There is no life I know

To compare with pure imagination

His voice joins mine. 

Living there, you’ll be free

I stop, allowing him to finish the verse

If you truly wish to be

Courage is easier found in the dark I realize, when my hands begin to trail along his chest and I continue singing.

If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it

Anything you want to, do it

My long nails gently scrape across his abs as his fingers trace the black paint along my chest.

“What a mess I’ve made.” The timbre of his voice sends desire rushing through me. Reaching back, he grabs something from one of the dispensers and lathers his hands. The creamy substance spreads down my shoulders as he begins to work out the tension in my muscles. His hands began to slip down to above my breasts. Working in slow circles. The combination of excitement and desire keeps my mind sharp despite the haze of lust. His thumbs swipe across my skin with a delicious pressure. Grasping the tops of my arms, he leans towards me and my lips hum in anticipation. His mouth grazes past my cheek. 

“I think… this is conditioner” He murmurs in my ear. I can’t help the surprised giggle that escapes me. I can feel his amusement even as he turns from me. The muted clicks of the dispenser can be heard over the shower stream. When he faces me again, the energy shifts. A thrill runs through me as he grabs the back of my neck with one hand.

“May I?” He echoes the familiar words he spoke earlier in the night.

“You may.” I breathe and his lathered hand begins running down my neck, as his other creeps up into my hair. My head tilts back. The glow from the distant light flashes off his sharp grin. His hand moves lower down my chest, as he works at the paint there. I’m not sure which is more arousing. Him painting me or washing it off. My nipples harden and a dull throb settles between my thighs just as his large hand sweeps over my breast. His fingers capture my nipple, flexing and rolling against my soft skin. I exhale shakily as he moves on to the other, giving it the same treatment. Grabbing my hips, he pulls me into the water, washing away his claim, his touch laying stake to a new one. Then he flips me around, I catch myself on the cool tile wall. As he steps closer, I can feel him pressed against me. 

“I very much enjoyed having my mark on you, clear for everyone to see.” His voice is low against my ear, as his lips drag over my neck, gently nipping at my skin. The hand on my right hip slides down my thigh. My legs tense in anticipation. His fingers begin swiping in teasing strokes, closer and closer to where I burn for his touch. 

“Tell me, what has you so wet for me?” I let out a whimper as his fingertips slide through the evidence of his claim. 

“Was it on stage? When I whispered in your ear?” Stay. I shook my head. That definitely turned me on but it wasn’t where it started. The memory of us in the dressing room, with his hands around my neck flickers through my mind. Just that quick thought stokes the already well fanned flames of arousal.

“Before the show in the dressing room” I say and receive a hum of approval. I’m rewarded as his finger dips inside me ever so slightly. His strokes are shallow, only increasing my need for him.

“What about it?” His fingers slow, urging me to respond. It’s hard to think through the fog of my desire.

“When you painted my neck.” Relief washes over me as he picks up his still too slow pace. His left hand moves from my hip, trailing over my fluttering stomach, paying brief attention to my breast, before sliding around my throat. My thighs clench around his hand before I can help myself, my body vibrating with anticipation.

“Ah so this is what you like?” His grip tightens as he speaks and my hips rock back desperate for more than this teasing. All I accomplish is grinding my ass against his cock. He inhales sharply but presses himself fully against me. 

“So eager.” He laughs. “Is this what you’ve wanted?” His fingers still move at a languid pace, but curl deeper inside me.

“Yes” I nod enthusiastically.

“But it’s not enough is it?” I shake my head. Because despite the pleasure I felt, the need was greater. The need to feel more of him, to have more of him. He obliges, sliding in a second finger. I cry out, my cheeks heat from embarrassment at the echo. I press my lips together, stifling my moans. His fingers still. He leans forward, his chest against my back, pressing me into the wall.

“Don’t stop singing for me now” He purrs and the rumble in his chest vibrates through my own.

“It’s just you and me. There’s no one else.”

I exhale heavily as my mouth parts. Right away, he rewards me with deliberate strokes of his fingers. The hand around my neck lazily works at the muscles there and waves of ecstasy shoot through me. My nails catch on the grout between the tiles as pleasure begins to coil tight in my muscles. I’m lost in the way my moans reverberate around us as his thumb carefully starts working my clit. It’s consuming. The stretch of his fingers, dragging over every sensitive spot inside me, playing my body like an instrument. His hips roll against my backside, grinding against me. I can feel the hard length of him, thick and hot against me. I begin to crave more and the thought alone of feeling all of him inside me brings me towards the peak. 

“Someday I will have all of you and you will have all of me. Until then I will have the memory of how wet and tight you are around my fingers. Wishing you were wrapped around my cock instead.” My hips rocked, practically riding his hand as the pleasure ramping up inside me spun so tight I felt it would snap at any moment. “Every time I look at my hand I want to remember how it felt to have you come on my fingers.” A ragged cry left my throat as his words pushed me over the edge. The tension inside me broke. Shattered shards of pleasure sliced through me as my body shook. His hand slipped out of me and I felt him work himself against my ass. Tremors skittered through me as I began to come down from my high. The cooling fire in my core alighting anew at the knowledge that he would soon follow. The hand around my neck had slid to brace himself against the wall.

“I want to feel you claim me again.” Shortly after those words left my mouth, I heard him groan. He shuddered against me as I felt hot spurts of him against my hip and back. His cheek came to rest against the top of my head. We stayed pressed against the wall as our breathing and heart rates slowed.

“Well I’m afraid I’ve made a bigger mess than when we started.” My body vibrates against his as I laugh. He pulls me back to the water and gets to work cleaning me off.

“Ves. Thank you, for tonight.” The nickname felt a bit strange on my tongue but appropriate given the standing of our relationship now.

“The pleasure was mine. Thank you for joining us and thank you for indulging me.” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“I’m flattered… We will see each other again, you know.” Now it’s my turn to tilt my head at his words.

“Will we?” The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind. Everything happened so fast.

“If you would like… There is still so much left to explore.” Even in my sated state, the purr of his words spark arousal. 

“Oh I think I would like that very much.” Tension crackles between us. God if I don’t get out of here I’m going to be in over my head. Exhaustion was starting to creep into my bones. 

“I think it’s past my bedtime.” I say with a yawn. That gets a little laugh out of him.

“Well you run along home before I’m inclined to drag you back into this cave and never let you go.” Again, he’s teasing, but the edge in his voice promises something darker. “Or someone comes looking for us and turns all those awful lights on.” His hands grip my shoulders as he leans down and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “We wouldn’t want to ruin the mystery.”

“We sure wouldn’t” Reluctantly, I walk away. I dry off the lingering evidence of what just occurred between us, slip into my clothes, and return to the harsh light of reality.

[koilaniazul]

why not me? (pt 2)

pairing- matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: matt confronts y/n and it turns into a confession. but of course, these things don’t always have a happy ending.

warnings: swearing, angst, matt is a meanie once again

go check out part one!

after seeing matt’s date, you felt empty. the boy you had loved for years had just slipped from your fingers.

he didn’t even text. or call. hell, he could’ve sent a damn pigeon and you would’ve jumped for joy.

but no, he just ghosted you. that wasn’t like him.

the entire time you were in your house you stalked eiliana. her instagram, her tiktok, her threads account, her moms facebook account. you found out she has an onlyfans. (that she barely even posted on.)

*she’s not good for matt.* you thought to yourself

you hadn’t got up from your bed in DAYS. and the dishes + smell in your room was a dead giveaway.

on the 5th day you unltimately decided it was time for self care.

you got up from your bed and felt disgusting. gathering all the takeout boxes and bowls with living organisms inside them, you stuffed them in the dishwasher as well as taking out the trash.

pulling off your dirty and crumb filled sheets and putting them in the washer, disinfectant over EVERY surface in your house.

hopping into the hot shower and letting out a soft moan feeling the anxiety and overwhelming stress wash away.

standing in your towel you looked at your phone, an instagram notif popped up.

a message. from matt.

he wanted..to talk? he wanted to talk. matt wanted to talk. and he was coming over in 10 minutes.

reality suddenly hit ur brain as you hopped out of the bathroom and quickly got dressed into the most decent fit you could find.

ur hair was still wet and you barely had time to put makeup on.

matt was coming over and you looked like a wet abandoned dog.

putting on perfume you heard your doorbell ring.

oh shit.

halfway sprinting to the door you opened it as your heart stopped.

there stood matt who you hadn’t seen in weeks.

and he looked so good. even his outfit looked so fine.

you checked him out without shame and he noticed.

clearing his throat, the boy looked her in the eyes. “can..i come in?” he asked a bit unsure.

stepping out of your trance, you looked up at matt with doe eyes. “yeah..yeah sure”

matt carefully stepped inside and took his shoes off as you walked into your living room.

sitting on the couch you patted the spot next to you for him to sit down.

he sat down and avoided eye contact.

deciding to break the quietness, you spoke.

“so, why are you here? missed me that much?” you asked slightly laughing.

he didn’t return the laughter. matt side eyed you as he spoke, “i think you know why im here y/n”.

your smile faded. “i don’t know..”’. as much as you hated lying, you didn’t want to talk about what happened.

matt’s jaw clenched in anger. “ what do you mean?! you showed up at my date with my girlfriend!”.

girlfriend? there’s no way he was dating her already.

you stood up. “are you serious matt? you’ve only known her for like a week!”.

matt’s eyes widened as he stood up as well. “you can’t be talking right now. why are you so interested about how long i’ve known eiliana?! if you need to know we’d been talking for like months before!”

you scoffed. but as you tried to speak again he cut you off. “matt- no y/n shut the fuck up! you’re crazy. eiliana literally complained to me that she was scared of you because you kept stalking her profiles every.single.day.”

your mouth went dry. you forgot to hide your own profile.

“you’re supposed to be my best friend! not some psycho who’s literally joe goldburg.” matt says obviously stressing

“well i cant just be your friend matt!” you yelled. you didn’t think before you spoke. *shut up y/n* you thought to yourself

matt looked even more confused than he was before. “why not?”

“because i fucking love you!” you cried out.

dead silence.

you panted. suddenly out of breath.

you looked up at matt. his eyes darkened.

he.was.pissed.

“matt-“ you said trying to touch his arm

“don’t-don’t touch me!” he said taking two steps back from you

you jerked your hand back scared from his reaction.

“matt please listen to me!” you yelled, tears started to pool your eyes.

he looked up and scoffed. “no you don’t get to cry y/n. you don’t get to fucking cry after you stalked my girlfriend and showed up at our date.”

“i- i didnt even mean to!” you stuttered. “i only left my house because you stood me up!”

matt rolled his eyes. “so what? i went on a date with a girl. you’re being a sensitive bitch.”

“why are you being such a dick right now?! this isn’t the matt i know!”

“oh yeah because you know me so well. matt said with a hint of sarcasm. “you don’t know me at all!”

you started to sob now. “matt-matt please!”

he walked to your front door. “i can’t be here.”

you panicked and sprinted to the front door, blocking him from leaving.

“let’s talk! please.” you begged desperately.

he finished putting his shoes on. “out of my way.”

your breath hitched. “matt.”

he sighed. “we can’t do this y/n. this isn’t healthy.”

confusion reached your face. “what are you talking about..?”

“we can’t be friends anymore.”

your heart dropped. “h-huh?”

he rubbed his temples “that’s why i came over here anyway. eilana and i had talked about it before i drove over. she suggested it and i think it’s a good idea.”

tears rolled down your face. “you’re one of my best friends i cant lose you!”

“ my girlfriend is terrified of you, and you clearly need help, please move out of the way y/n”

you gave up.

moving out of the doorway, matt opened the door and stood in the door frame.

“you know, i wanted to introduce her to you. i thought you two would be good friends. guess not. see you around”

he shut the door as you heard his footsteps walk away.

you tried to cry but you couldn’t.

you were so tired.

only one thought circled your head.

why not me?

❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥

𝗄𝗈𝗂'𝗌 𝗒𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 ↷

BYEE WHY DOES THIS SUCK ASS

anyway.. i did not mean to make matt this mean. welp!

ALSO TELL ME WHY I SPELT EILANA THREE DIFFERENT WAYS

please tell me if you find any mistakes!

ok bai love ya ꨄ

⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡

[ur-sick-and-married]

jb and Lucy x reader at the Grammys and people trying to figure out who's reader date not realizing it's both of them.

ON YOUR ARM(S)

(Julien Baker x Lucy Dacus x reader)

TW: polyamory

SUMMARY: your girlfriend’s fans are confused when they show up with a plus one…

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m hoping this cheers some folks up after the election. Sending love to whoever needs it🫂

------------------------------------------------

It was the morning after the Grammys, where your girlfriends had won multiple awards. You were insanely proud of them, yet slightly shocked that you had attended such a huge thing, as were they. All three of you were lying in bed, resting. It had been a really late night, and you were exhausted, but so, so happy.

Julien was lying in Lucy’s lap, her back pressed to Lucy’s chest. They were reading a book that Lucy held, while you scrolled through your phone. They were always touching you in some way; playing with your hair, stroking your arm, holding your hand.

You were looking through Instagram, when you found a boygenius fan account. The post was discussing the band at the Grammys, and many people in the comments were questioning the mysterious plus one that tagged along. Curious, you went onto the page and looked at the recent posts.

You knew it was probably a bad idea. Lucy and Julien had practically trained you to stay out of posts about them. There would always be some shitty comment.

But you just wanted a peek. Just wanted to see what everyone was thinking.

And what you saw made you laugh.

Everyone was so confused. There were blurry photos of you and Lucy, and some of you and Julien, and some of all three of you. Julien’s hand was constantly on your waist or back, which could’ve meant nothing. Yet, it was almost a possessive move, and her hand was always quite low. Lucy seemed to be more coupley; she held your hand, hugged you, kissed your head, and even left a lipstick smudge on your forehead. She had also left a smudge on Julien’s face. When it was the three of you, it seemed platonic, until the way you all looked at each other got noticed.

The fandom was chaotic. There were so many discussions. So many TikToks. So many Tweets. There might have been a Reddit thread mentioned…it was crazy…and hilarious.

“What’s so funny?” Lucy asked, looking over at you.

You scooted close to them, still giggling.

“People are so confused…” You said.

They each looked at your phone while you explained, somewhat breathlessly, and by the time they understood, they were laughing too.

“They don’t know…what to think!” Julien exclaimed.

“Jesus…have they ever seen a poly couple?” You were gasping for air.

Lucy was too busy wiping her tears to comment.

After you calmed down, then started laughing again, and calmed down again, you started to discuss what to do.

“I was going to post something anyway…” You contemplated. “I could post that photo of us kissing your cheek, Luce…”

“Feels too hardcore…” Julien hummed, always the hesitant one.

“We could make this even more funny.” Lucy said.

You and Julien looked at her, intrigued.

“We could really milk this out and keep being confusing.” She explained. “Me and Julien never post anywhere…but you do, babe. You could post either of us occasionally, just to mess with people…”

“I like this idea more than a hard launch.” You smirked.

“You two are evil.” Julien groaned, dragging a hand down her face.

“But wouldn’t it be fun?” You grinned, and nuzzled into her shoulder.

“It wouldn’t be as intense as announcing our relationship…” Lucy said right in her ear.

“Well…” Julien sighed.

“It’ll be fun, Jules…” You whispered. “And not nerve-wracking.”

“I am quite wracked with nerves, hm?” Julien joked.

“I didn’t want to say so…but yeah.” Lucy smiled.

You and Lucy continued to talk softly, practically making a pros list. Eventually, Julien interrupted.

“You know what? Fine!” She said. “We have to be discreet, though…this can’t seem like it’s planned out.”

“Don’t worry about that.” You smiled.

“You won’t regret this, Julien,” Lucy grinned. “It’ll be hilarious.”

You plotted for a bit, figuring out how to do this just right.

About a week later, you started being ominous. You posted a photo of Julien on your Instagram story. You two had gone on a date, yet it looked like a friendship thing to the fans. A little while after that, you posted a silly picture of Lucy in a photo dump.

This went on and on. Some people were figuring things out, since Lucy had said that she was polyamorous on your friend’s podcast, Gayotic. Some people didn’t like it. Most were still confused.

You and Lucy had been right. It was hysterical.

[agendabymooner]

lost in japan ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc) - tltl series extra

“i was hoping i could get lost in your paradise.”

summary: sylvie and max in japan. sylvie’s new obsession. a lot of shopping. and twitter/instagram wars. OR f1 twt summarized each one of max’s posts in his ig story after he and sylvie ford went to japan without any notice.

content warning: use of explicit language, established relationship, threads of posts regarding their relationship, nothing just an inchident serious just fluff and possibly humour, press the pictures for the full view!

note: me: i’m gonna update the masterlist. also me: haha funny brain post some more.

i don’t feel alright today but i hope y’all are doing good and touching grass. enjoy xx

masterlist

tagged maxverstappen1

liked by tillywolff, landonorris, georgerussell63

comments have been limited

yukitsunoda0511 did you go to akihabara then? liked by sylvieeford

maxverstappen1 she practically lived there if i’m being honest 😀

danielricciardo watch out mustang he might steal your supermodel career liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford he already snatched it. by the weave and all

landonorris left the country as an avid animal crossing gamer and supermodel, came back as an animal crossing gamer and supermodel with a hint of otaku liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford i can be hot and be obsessed with certain fandoms at the same time, best friend 🤐

landonorris i know, best friend. and i fw it 😍

pierregasly max had been texting us in the groupchat asking yuki about animes and street foods. he was studying that’s why he’s on the phone all the time 😂 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford we had a tour guide for a reason maxverstappen1 😭

maxverstappen1 yuki knew the seedy areas that we didn’t know about. how did you think i found our way into that alleyway of vending machines?

yukitsunoda0511 i helped him

sylvieeford it was quite sketchy but thank you yuki 😀 take me somewhere with lights next time caddy

charles_leclerc did you get me something?

sylvieeford my priceless presence during the next race?

charles_leclerc i’m hoping for something like some stuff from the mario theme park.

shawnmendes i’m glad you took my advice 😉 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford am i ever glad that i did.

maxverstappen1 if we hadn’t been listening to your playlist we probably wouldn’t have anything to do at home 😅

tillywolff is there anything for the little cubs perhaps??? 👀 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford maxverstappen1 lol about that

maxverstappen1 you’re gonna hate us so much

tillywolff oh god, you two went all out on the kids. victoriaverstappen these two are at it with the gifts again 🥲

victoriaverstappen we should swap lives for a day at some point and see how much clutter would you step on when you get them toys

sylvieeford actually we got them new friends and some new clothes from the nintendo shop 😉 then we went to sanrioland and got them all…

tillywolff you two need to stop the retail therapy

maxverstappen1 what’s done is done, tils 🤷‍♀️

christianhorner i’m glad you two missed me 🙄 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford don’t worry we got you something to compensate 😉

christianhorner i don’t even want to know.

maxverstappen1 posted a story !!!

bonus !!!

[fawnandshadows]

How You Get The Girl

Chapter 23

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Language

AO3

“I feel awful,” Elain said, pulling the seat belt away from her belly. “I can’t believe this happened.” Inky guilt settled into her veins as she thought of the photo that had been making waves online. She hated the guilt that lurked inside of her because she was so proud of that photo  — of how beautiful it was, of how Azriel’s artistic talent and passion was on full display. His affection. But that picture was for them. Not the entire world. 

“How are you holding up?” Azriel said from the driver's seat, reaching over to place one hand on her knee while the other rested on top of the wheel. The dark tattoos and his corded muscles was a nice distraction from everything on fire outside of the car. 

“I can’t believe this ruined Feyre and Rhysand’s plans.” Elain pouted and sunk further into the passenger's seat. 

“I wouldn’t say we ruined their plans.” Azriel said, flicking the turn signal to turn onto a dirt road. 

“We hijacked it, at the very least,” Elain grumbled and looked out the window, watching the leaves rush pass as they drove into the dense forest. “They were planning on having a romantic getaway at Rosehall and now we’re crashing it. And like a week before they even get here.” 

“Elain,” Azriel said softly, squeezing her knee. “Your photo was leaked. You have the right to be upset.”  

“I know,” Elain whispered, peeking at him from the corner of her eye. His strong profile, made up of straight lines and a beautifully sloping nose, looked confidently out the window, and the glow of late afternoon sun landed on him with a gold outline. “And your phone was compromised. Your privacy was violated because of me. I never should have told you to take that picture.” Her fingers played with the ones that laid comfortingly on her knee. 

“Hey,” Azriel said firmly, his eyes cutting to hers meaningfully before turning back to the road. “I should have deleted that picture. I should have never taken it in the first place, but I was being selfish. And how much training did I have to sit through where they expressly told us what not to do?” 

Elain pursed her lips and fought the urge to argue. To put all the blame on her shoulders. 

“You know what I hate?” Elain whispered, placing her hand flat on top of Azriel’s and seeing how small it looked in comparison. “How they can say such nasty things about such a beautiful picture,” She scrunched her nose and threaded her fingers through his. “I mean, if it was a professional shoot and that picture was in a magazine? People would be fawning over it. But because it was on my boyfriend's phone I’m somehow a slut? A tramp? It’s ridiculous.” 

She looked up at him and saw the muscle in his jaw ticking. Elain leaned across the console and placed her free hand on the left side of his face to pull him towards her, and then kissed the tensed muscle in his jaw. 

“It’s not fair.” Azriel stated, frustration clear in his voice. 

Elain leaned her head into his shoulder. Her forehead pressing into him. 

“I was thinking,” Elain said hesitatingly, unsure if this was the best time to bring it up. “But I don’t think I want to model anymore,” She felt his body tense under her and continued. “You know it was never something I really wanted to do, and I feel more and more detached every time they call me The Face, and after this whole experience I’m sick of that entire industry.” 

A short silence fell in the car. 

“I want you to do what makes you happy.” Azriel said, this thumb brushing over the soft skin of her hand he was holding. 

“That’s,” Elain started and cut herself off when she felt a burning sensation in her eyes. “That’s one of the things I love about you. You don’t care if I’m a model, or what I’m posting on my instagram, or anything that comes with all of that. You just care about me.”

Elain pressed a kiss into his shoulder before pulling back, and when she looked through the windshield she saw them pulling into Rosehall’s driveway. 

“This isn’t how I saw us being here for the first time, as a couple I mean. Obviously we were both here before with my family.” A blush tinged her cheeks. 

Azriel put the car in park before turning to face her. His eyes were intense and caring in a way that made her stomach contract. 

“This is how I see it,” Azriel said, his voice warm and lovely. “I get to spend a week alone with my gorgeous girlfriend, away from all the bullshit we normally have to deal with. And despite the reasons why we’re here — we’re still together,” He leaned closer to her and Elain felt herself leaning forward as well. “And I am going to do everything in my power to make this the best week of your life.” 

A smile bloomed on Elain’s face. 

“Did you pack the condoms?” Elain whispered, as if they were in a car full of people and she didn’t want anyone to overhear. 

Azriel raised an amused eyebrow at her. 

He rested one elbow on the center console and brought a hand up to rub his index across his bottom lip to keep from smiling. 

“I did,” Azriel said, almost smiling. “Are you planning on taking advantage of me, Elain?” 

“Maybe,” Elain moved even closer, her smile taking up more real estate on her face. “Is that a problem?” She unbuckled herself and shifted so that she was sitting on her knees, facing him fully. Hunched over and uncomfortable, but she wanted an unobstructed view of her boyfriend. 

Azriel smiled fully at her, his dimple deep in his cheek. 

“Let me get back to you on that.” Azriel joked, and Elain playfully swatted his arm before leaning in and pressing her lips against his. 

His strong hand came up and tangled in her hair and their lips moved slowly against each other. 

Excitement raced through Elain, pushing out any lingering feelings of frustrations with their situation. She was looking forward to time with Azriel and was going to relish every second they got to spend together, no matter the circumstances. 

When they pulled away, Elain was panting and she could feel her lips tingle from their kisses. 

“Tonight? Do you think?” Elain questioned breathlessly, her hair feeling too hot and heavy against her damp neck. 

Azriel’s eyes darkened as they looked at her. 

He shifted his hand to rub one thumb along her soft jaw. 

“Are you ready?” Azriel asked, and when Elain nodded her head Azriel swallowed loudly. “If you get too tired tonight and just want to sleep, then we can push it back. There’s absolutely no rush, Elain.” 

“I know,” Elain whispered and gently brought their lips together again in a brief kiss. “But I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you?” 

— —

For some reason Rosehall always smelled like Spring and Autumn, even in mid summer. Elain was sure it was some combination of the leaves from the thick forest and the wild roses that were found all throughout the grounds — it was one of her favorite smells. The kind of smell that always brought with it serenity. She could be sincere here away from the rest of the world. 

The large cabin was rustic and full of large windows, and a calmness filled Elain as soon as she stepped through the threshold holding her backpack. Azriel tried to steal it from her hands, but she wouldn’t let him. 

“I could live here,” Elain admitted, setting her bag down before plopping down on an old, puffy leather couch in the family room. She gazed at the large stone fireplace across her and wondered if she could convince Azriel to start a fire for her in the middle of summer. “Just you and me,” She raised herself up to peer over the back of the couch at him. “What do you say?” 

“Are we completely secluded, or can family come visit?” Azriel asked, unloading one of what looked like ten bags he was carrying from by the front door. He slowly walked across the wooden floor to her and placed his brown hands on either side of her from behind the couch. 

Elain lifted to her knees to get closer to him. 

“They can visit.” Elain stated, looking up at him. 

Azriel hummed in response and his lips uplifted into a soft smile. 

“Then I think we could make it happen, but I can’t promise your parents would be the best landlords.” 

Elain cringed and shook her head. 

“This is our fantasy, please don’t mention my parents.” 

“Sorry, babe.” 

Elain grinned and wound her arms around his neck. 

“I love it when you call me pet names, I hope you know that.” 

“You always look like you melt when I do it.” Azriel admitted, a blush dusting his cheeks. 

After a small pause Elain said, “Always? Even before we got together?” 

Azriel nodded in admittance and Elain gasped, softly slapping his chest. 

“That’s why you always called me names?” 

A guilty smile ate at Azriel’s lips. 

“Well, yes, but I really can’t be blamed for calling you beautiful, though. It’s a fact.” 

“What do you like that I do?” Elain asked, flushing. 

“I like it when you touch me,” Azriel said, and rolled his eyes at the look of Elain’s face. “Not like that, pervert, but when we’re sitting together and you reach for my hand. Or when you push my hair back. When you randomly hug me. Stuff like that.” 

“Oh,” Elain breathed, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I was worried you might think I was clingy.” 

Azriel shook his head and said, “Never.” 

Elain bit her lip and played with the hair on the nape of his neck, running her fingers through his curls. 

“You know,” Elain said, wetting her lips. “We don’t have to wait for tonight to…” 

Azriel’s body stilled beneath her fingers. 

“I’m going to bring the food in from the car,” Azriel said slowly. Deliberately. “And you’re going to wait for me. In your room.” 

He leaned down to give her a hurried kiss before rushing out of the house. 

Elain felt giddy and grabbed her bag and ran up the steps. 

-------

tagging: @123moiaussi @fuckmelifesucks @thefangirlofhp @sakurakittypeach @nikethestatue @tswaney17 @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyredarlinq @duskwhisperer @nyxreads @rinadragomir @secretpuppyflower @captainbrucebanner @ultadverb @irisesforelain @shedoessoshedoes  @magnolia-blossom87 @sheenabeene @nivem565  @casuallivi @rhysiedarling @elain99-blog @athena-85 @swankii-art-teacher @reverie-tales @jujugirlfrombookstore @shadowflorecita @shy-violet-soul @thisloveseternal

-----

I'm back!!!! This is my first time posting since the New Year and I hope everyone has had an amazing 2024!!! I went ghost mode in January to avoid HOFAS spoilers and work has been a different kind of intense lately, but I'm hoping to be much more active again :)

[joanyio]

weak hero class 1 rant because it’s 4am and im in my feelings and idk how else to deal with them *cracks knuckles* please don’t expect me to be coherent

it’s because of a twitter thread i made and i just wanted to elaborate more

if you didn’t click the link here’s what i said “this montage gets me every time because you realize sooho’s bright personality hid the fact that he was just as alone as sieun was, always sleeping at school for working part-time a lot, probably the reason why he had no friends, also refers to himself as the hyung with his peers. then the montage sequence ends with sieun being considerate, not turning the lights on like he did before and studying in the dark to not disturb sleeping sooho. the same day sieun wakes him up to have lunch together and they unexpectedly click.. in a way it was a friendship built from understanding how differently they lived but also similarly alone, and having each other made their lives a little brighter and i think that’s beautiful.”

also this hyunwook interview..

—

i can’t seem to stop overthinking about the little detail that sooho refers to himself as the hyung (형 - older brother) with his same-aged peers (동갑). in korea, age is a huge deal and it dictates most of their social cues, who to respect and how much respect is given. and i can just imagine how arrogant his peers might find him for referring to himself as the hyung, it’s like he acts all high and mighty amongst them.

am not puting all clips of him doing this but i remember the incident with baseball kids in the first ep he told them to bring the passed out dude to the nurse’s office and said “형이 이름 말하면 뒤진다,” literally means “if you say hyung’s (my) name, you’re dead.” (and they aren’t even his same-aged friends because someone murmured “but we’re older than him..” still, they’re high schoolers all the same) in ep 2 “형이라고 부르고싶냐?” literally means “do you wanna call me hyung now?” (or “do you wanna give me respect now?”) in ep 3 while playing pool he said “형이 하는거 잘 봐라,” literally means “watch carefully how hyung does (i do) it.”

[edit: i remembered another instance. in ep 1, yeongbin’s group bothering sieun again in the classroom. sooho was disturbed from his sleep, “why are guys so chatty these days? 형 잠도 못 자게. 형 자도 돼? 응?” literally goes “hyung (i) can’t even sleep (with u mfs being loud). can hyung (i) sleep? hmm?” official subs: “someone’s trying to sleep here. can i sleep in peace? please?”]

i think he does it because he knows he was forced to grow up fast due to his living situation, and in his eyes this made his same-aged peers /more/ childlike(?) and immature compared to him, who’s already grown up and has adult big boy responsibilities to worry about than silly little exams and high school social hierarchy. he’s extroverted and has a sunshine personality, blunt and honest to anyone he talks to. he always knows what to say to kids his age to feel shame for the bullshit they pull. even with older people, the baseball kids, to gilsu “나이 먹고 그게 자랑이야?”

so yeah sleeping a lot at school due to working part-time for hours may have contributed to him not having friends (hello he follows like 5 people in instagram, such a skinny ratio with his 1k+ followers) but also he probably found it hard to relate and saw no reason to put effort in hanging out with them outside inevitable campus interactions. until sieun. sieun who sooho calls a weirdo, who’s really interesting, whose eyes say how empty he must feel inside but you can see the fire in them. sooho probably thought sieun would never initiate a conversation with him but he did approach him for lunch that one time. and finds himself enjoying the company. now he grew to love showing sieun that there’s more to life than studying hard and preparing for college. it’s all mundane things, eating, gaming, karaokeing, playing pool, “let’s drive all night long,” friendship and the kind of company that their families and other people couldn’t give.

sooho’s all sun and bright but he hasn’t found his person until sieun came along. both of them were very self-sacrificial, ready to risk it all and harm anyone to protect each other. i might just forever ache for sooho ending up on his deathbed after going apeshit seeing sieun hide the injury he got on sooho’s behalf.. and sieun throwing away his whole future when he went and hurt everyone who did that to sooho..

it hits different after i read the equivalent chapters in the webtoon because the suho-sieun-focused friendship story was prolonged for the drama adaptation. sooho was kinda not that interesting in the webtoon so i loved everything they changed and added for his character in the drama. but also like im upset because now im endlessly attached to him.. [edit: in case i piss off webtoon!suho lovers, it’s a personal preference. i love him too but i just cant help but be more emotionally attached to drama!suho] like fuck why did they have to write such a tragic friendship story between highschoolers im fucking done

end of rant ugh i hate myself for this

[espressorry]

somebody else

our love has gone cold, you’re intertwining your soul with somebody else

................................................................................................................................

The pictures had destroyed you.

The breakup had been messy. Tears streaming down both of your faces as you had screamed at each other until throats turned raw, all emotion sucked out of you. Between the touring, the rumor mill, the hateful comments on the internet, and his unwillingness to be fully vulnerable with you, it had all grown to be too much. You loved him so much, more than the whole world, and all you ever asked for was him - but that was too much to ask sometimes. 

So to see him out with a beautiful blonde girl on his arm, leaving the yoga studio you two frequented - and you now avoided for fear of running into him - it destroyed you. A mutual friend gave you the heads up to avoid social media, but you, of course, had to seek it out to cause even more pain to your already shredded heart. 

You hated to think about him with somebody else - anybody else. Even if your relationship had gone cold towards the end - the spark and ultimately lively flame that fueled your relationship had gone out - you couldn’t bear to think that  he had found somebody else already. 

Your shaking hands closed out of Instagram before you could do any more damage to your already bruised ego, and before you could think better of it, you were opening your messages to your text thread with him. Tears were coming out of your eyes before you could control it as you read through his last message to you, telling you he still loved you and that he wanted to make this work.  His promises meant nothing after the past several months of them ultimately being empty. 

Before you could stop yourself, you were typing out a message to him.

So, is that it then? You’ve moved on? 

Send. You threw your phone across the bed and slammed your face into the pillow. Fuck breakups. Fuck him for making you feel like this. The more time went on, the more you began to feel regret creeping into your mind for sending it. He’s moving on, you should be too. 

Your phone buzzes to indicate an incoming call, and low and behold, it’s him. You debate declining the call. You should decline the call. It would be easier if you didn’t hear his voice. 

“Hello?”

“Y/N.”

“Harry.”

“So you saw the pictures, then?”

“Of course I saw them. They’re all over the internet. Not like you were trying to be subtle.”

“Would you believe me if I said that we were friends?”

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt tears welling up in your eyes again. You wanted to believe what he was saying but you didn’t know how anymore. “I don’t know, Harry.”

He sighed into the other end of the phone, and you hear a sniffle echo through the receiver. “I didn’t think so. I deserve that,” he says with a wet chuckle. 

You stay silent, knowing that he doesn’t need to hear your confirmation of his thoughts. 

“Listen. I know this was my fault. You think I don’t know that? God, Y/N, you were everything good that ever happened to me and I don’t know how I fucked it up. I swear to you, if you just give me one more chance, you won’t regret it.”

You sigh up at the ceiling, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “You say that, but I just don’t know how to believe you anymore. I trusted you so much. I loved you so much. Do you know how it feels to have the one person you love more than anything else let you down over and over again?”

You can hear as he chokes out a sob and tries, fails, to contain it. “I know. I know that and I am - fuck, I am so sorry. Please. Please. I can’t do this without you.”

[ofthecaravel]

Everything I Didn't Say

Chapter 4 of ‘You Don’t Go To Parties’, which is clearly not a oneshot anymore, but this is the last chapter I swear it on my father's sardines

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3

Summary: It's time for a stake out.

Tags: Brotherly shenanigans, anxiety, miscommunication, coming out, resolutions, love and peace on planet earth

Words: 4.7k

A/N: Let's all gather around for one last rodeo. Thank you for all the love on this series, figured it was about time to wrap it up for everybody's sanity. You are all required by Caravel Nation law to tell me what you think <3

~~~

Danny gave himself the kindness of keeping his phone off and out of sight during work, but it was never much of a problem considering the majority of his messages came from his family and Sam. However, when he slid his phone out of his work locker at the end of his shift, he was surprised to see his entire lock screen was filled to the brim with legions of texts and missed calls from Josh.

His anxiety piqued when he read the urgent nature of his texts, but calmed quickly when he realized they all had something to do with the twins’ fervent demands to help them track down Sam’s mystery girlfriend. Not even bothering to text back, Danny called Josh, pinning the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he kicked off his grass stained golf shoes and slid on his sneakers. As expected, Josh picked up on the second ring.

“Danny, my boy, finally, where have you been?” Josh greeted loudly. 

“Work,” Danny deadpanned, tapping the heel of his shoe against the locker to secure it onto his foot. “The children yearn for the golf course. What’s the emergency this time around?”

“We have a breakthrough in the case,” Josh whispered conspiratorially and Danny felt a nervous tremor in his hand start to pulse. Their work on “the case” had been slim to none, mostly being carried out on a night when Danny slept over at Jake’s apartment and Josh had scrolled through Sam’s Instagram followers and pointed out “potential suspects” while they all passed his dab pen around. Needless to say, their sleuthing hadn’t reached any kind of important conclusions after the third pass around. 

“Do tell,” Danny asked as he strode out the back doors and lumbered across the parking lot to his bulky Kia. 

“Jacob managed to divine some very interesting information out of Sam,” Josh continued, clearly enjoying drawing out the suspense. “Apparently, he has some sort of ‘meeting’ tonight at Roscoe’s. A meeting? At night? At Roscoe’s? It’s gotta be a date.”

“Hm!” Danny squeaked, his keys falling through his fingers at Josh’s words. Danny was very aware of this dinnertime date, considering he was the one who was going to be in attendance. They’d only planned it a day or two before. How could Jake have gotten that information out of Sam so quickly? Danny pressed the speaker phone button and pulled up his text thread with Sam, smiling as he waded through an adorable stream of texts begging for Danny to come save him from lecture before zeroing in on a text that read ‘Just had Such a conversation with jake, ugh’. Uh oh.

“I mean, what else could it be?” Josh exclaimed, his voice filling the expanse of Danny’s car as Danny sat staring at his phone. “Sam’s smart but he’s not professional. Bullshit, it's a date.”

“Well, I could always ask him about it and report back,” Danny offered.

“Nope, I have something much better planned,” Josh announced, a smile dripping from his voice. “Pull out your fancy pants, Wagner, because the three of us have a reservation at Roscoe’s, 6pm tonight. This is a proper stakeout.”

“What?” Danny blurted, his panic returning swiftly. “No, no, Josh, I’m b-”

“Cancel whatever it was, this is top priority!” Josh insisted passionately. “Come on, it’ll be a blast. We have a table right outside the window so we can see every table inside. We’ll stay out of sight, sneak a peek at whoever shows up, and then we’ll know! It’s a foolproof plan!”

“Josh-”

“I won’t hear it,” Josh snapped. “We’ll pick you up at 5:45. Wear something nice. See you then!”

“No, Jo-”

“Yes, Josh, thank you for your kind offer,” Josh mocked in his best impression of Danny. “Oh, you’re so welcome, Daniel. And don’t try and tell Sam we’re coming, he texted Jake that his phone was dying half an hour ago and we all know he didn’t bring a charger to class. He’ll be out of commission until right around when we show up. It’s a perfect storm.”

“You watch too many movies,” Danny countered, his stomach sinking at Josh’s information. He glanced at his phone again and sure enough, his last text from Sam was an annoyed apology that his phone was dying and he’d text him if he had time to run home and grab a charger before he got to the restaurant. 

“You don’t watch enough,” Josh accused with a laugh. “5:45. Fancy pants. Maybe bring sunglasses. Be there or be square!”

“You’re evil for this,” Danny sighed. “Alright. I’ll dig out my sunglasses.”

“Perfect! Au revoir.”

And just like that, the call cut and Danny was left sitting blankly and anxiously fidgeting. He thought about texting Sam anyways, but it seemed like a fruitless task knowing he wouldn’t see it until it was too late. Could he call someone Sam was with to warn him? Who was he even with? He didn’t know anyone’s numbers by heart, anyways. The stars had aligned in favor of Josh’s ridiculous stakeout, and Danny couldn’t help but feel the walls closing in around him as he started up the car and drove uncharacteristically slow all the way home. He knew this wouldn’t mean the end by any means, but his stomach was aching all the same. 

~~

Danny spent his two hours of free time buzzing around his apartment and brainstorming ways out of the plan, but when he heard a horn blare outside of his window at the stroke of 5:45, he knew his fate was sealed. He ran down the stairs and walked out to Jake’s piece of crap Toyota, smoothing his semi formal button down with one hand and pushing his sunglasses up with the other. The backseat window rolled down and Josh’s cherubic face appeared, letting loose a loud wolf whistle. He was sporting a huge pair of bedazzled sunglasses of his own and a lavender fleece, and Danny chuckled as he climbed in the passenger seat and received a side hug from Jake, who was wearing his standard round sunglasses and a secret agent-esque turtleneck.

“You both look ridiculous,” Danny declared as Jake started to drive, turning around in his seat to properly face Josh. “I don’t know how you roped me into this.”

“I’m extremely charming,” Josh announced. Jake scoffed in reply.

“Is that what you call it?” Jake teased and it was Josh’s turn to scoff. 

“Why are you in the backseat?” Danny asked, his nerves melting in the presence of his friends despite them being the source of it. 

“He calls it ‘Driving Ms. Fernanda’,” Jake explained tiredly as Josh began to cackle. “He pretends I’m his chauffeur.” 

“Are you Ms. Fernanda?” Danny questioned Josh.

“Elle Fernanda to you,” Josh declared in a confident impression of some kind of wizened socialite. “You didn’t come up with an alias for this?”

“Amateur,” Jake accused in a gravelly British accent.

“Oh, and you are…?”

“Oliver fuckin’ Reed!” Jake crowed, his face splitting into a raucous smile. “I have a beard for our grand entrance in my pocket. Didn’t want any ladies driving next to us to get distracted by how devilishly handsome I am with it on.”

Danny didn’t answer, simply laughing as he relaxed into his seat. For a moment, he forgot the end goal of this trip, taking time to enjoy the portal the twins always seemed to conjure up to transport his state of mind to a new plane of reality.

 Before he got the time to fully indulge, Jake pulled into a parking spot around the corner from the restaurant and they all climbed out. As they walked, Josh quietly hummed the Mission Impossible theme and Jake chattered about the menu he’d looked up online, leaving Danny to try and get his panic under wraps.

“I’ve planned it all out,” Josh assured them. “Sam should already be inside, and we’ll just go right to our seats outside so he’ll never even see us. See, that table right there, by the bush? He’ll never see us from behind that.”

“Smart,” Danny answered absently. He checked his phone again, but there were still no texts from Sam. He fought cursing under his breath as they approached the hostess outside and she led them to the table Josh had described. As he took his seat, he peeked around the greenery and nearly jumped when he saw Sam sitting at a corner table, his chin resting on his hand as he looked around the restaurant. He’d been there for at least 15 minutes now, and Danny hoped he had kept up his streak of lateness so that he’d been sitting there for even less time, but from the frustrated crinkle on his forehead that Danny knew so well, he figured this may have been a rare occasion he’d actually showed up on time. Danny’s heart gave a pull as he stole another glance at Sam, recognizing the soft sweater he was wearing as one that he’d told Sam was his favorite. His mind was so overwhelmed with guilt it took him a minute to hear Josh in his ear.

“Dan!”

Danny jolted and turned to him.

“Can you see anything?” Jake asked, looking at him over the edge of his menu.

“Yeah, uh, straight shot actually,” Danny stammered. “Nobody’s with him, though.”

“Let me see,” Josh pestered, leaning over Danny to look into the main seating area. “Aw, there he is. Hi, little guy!”

“Imagine if he got stood up,” Jake joked, taking a sip of his water. “And we did all this for nothing.”

“That’s sad!” Josh lamented, but they both laughed. “We’d have to go in there and ambush him.”

“By the way, Dan, we picked an alter ego for you,” Jake said as Josh continued squinting through the glass at Sam, who had pulled out his phone and was trying to start it. Danny recognized this as a typical Sam maneuver for when his phone was dead, the explanation being that maybe he could “catch the phone by surprise” and trick it into starting up. 

“Oh, really?” Danny answered curiously, trying to distract himself from the guilt now nearly choking him. 

“You’re Chip Bunker, golf superstar,” Josh explained. “Just in case the waitress asks. If you need help beefing up your backstory, we’ll fill in for you. We need you to focus on keeping an eye on Sam.”

“Can do,” Danny answered honestly.

“Ugh, where would we be without you?” Josh gushed as the waitress started to approach. “Drinks are on me.”

An absolutely grueling 15 minutes passed, with Josh ordering a round of appetizers for them, Jake workshopping a list of discreet questions to ask Sam after, and Danny downing his entire cocktail while he watched Sam’s expression grow ever more frustrated. 

“Oh!” Danny said, leaning in and patting the table to get their attention as he watched Sam shift in his seat. “He’s getting up!”

The twins awkwardly leaned around the bush obscuring their view as they all watched Sam get up and hail down a waitress, asking her something with her replying and hurrying away as Sam took his seat again.

“Is he leaving?” Jake asked in a hurried whisper. 

“I don’t know,” Josh answered unhelpfully. “Oh, oh, here she comes.”

“Shit,” Danny blurted as he watched the waitress return to his side, a white iPhone charger in her hand as she passed it off to him and gestured to something out of sight. He watched Sam thank her and then bend to plug it into an outlet. They all waited in silence until they saw Sam’s face glow in the light of the phone starting up.

With a shaking hand, Danny tried to subtly slide his phone out of his pocket and turn his ringer off, but before he got the chance, his phone started buzzing with the Hozier song he’d assigned for Sam’s ringtone. The twins’ head snapped towards him and he had no time to move before they both saw Sam’s contact photo on Danny’s screen. His heart dropped like a cold weight into the pit of his stomach. 

“Pick it up, pick it up!” Jake hissed, wiggling his fingers towards Danny’s phone as he and Josh slid down synchronously into their seats. 

“Uh,” Danny faltered, his mind racing and his fingers beginning to shake as he tried to figure out what to do. In an instant, Josh’s hand darted out and accepted the call for him, and worse yet, pressed the speakerphone button. Danny felt the facade crashing down around him as Sam’s voice cut through.

“Where are you?” Sam whispered urgently, a sincere note of upset lacing his words. Jake and Josh stayed silent and still, their eyes slowly moving to Danny as he sat stupidly, all words dying on his tongue.

“Hello? Daniel?” Sam went on. “We were getting dinner tonight, right? I’ve been waiting for, like, half an hour for you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Sammy,” Danny finally answered, his voice stuttering as the twins gave him confused looks and seemed to have an entire silent conversation of their own.

“Where are you?” Sam asked again, his words poisonous as he said every word punctually. “I can’t believe you forgot.”

Josh let out an involuntary scoff of surprise, clapping his hands over his mouth as Danny shot him a glare. 

“What was that?” Sam asked. Danny could see him hunched over at his table, hurt beginning to taint his features as his free hand began to rip his napkin to shreds. “Are you with someone?”

“No, no, I mean, yes, but-”

“Okay, wow,” Sam spat, straightening in his chair again and scowling. “You made plans when we had plans? Aren’t you Mr. Calendar?”

“Sam, let me explain-”

“No, no, please, go on, I’d love to hear this,” Sam laughed tunelessly. 

“I…” Danny trailed off, looking back at the twins, who were now looking at him with an expectant look of amusement. “Can you do something for me quick?”

“I will do jack shit, thank you very much.”

“Trust me?”

Sam was quiet for a minute, and Danny watched his gaze soften ever so slightly.

“Trust you.”

“Can you look out the window for me?”

“What?”

“What?” Josh echoed, smacking Danny on the arm. “Come on!”

Sam’s brow crinkled again and he looked up from his glare fastened to the table and out the window, his eyes dancing over the scarce scenery until he finally made eye contact with Danny. Danny attempted a sheepish smile, but he was sure it came out as more of a guilty lip curl. Sam hung up the phone and got up from his table, stomping across the restaurant and towards the door.

“Traitor,” Jake declared. 

“I have so many questions,” Josh whined, removing his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes as the door burst open and Sam approached their table. He reeled slightly when he caught sight of his brothers, sending Danny a furious and panicked look.

“What the fuck?” Sam asked simply, throwing his hands up in the air and letting them fall noisily against his pants. “What is going on?”

“I have no idea,” Danny answered honestly, his seat scraping as he attempted to get up but ended up sitting defeatedly again. “But everything is fine.”

“This was your meeting?” Jake blurted in confusion. “Dinner with Danny?”

“Yes?” Sam answered in petulant exasperation. “What the hell do you care? And why are you wearing a fake beard?”

“Well, we thought you were…” Josh’s voice got very small. “On a date.”

“So you’re stalking me now?” Sam asked, putting his hands on his hips. “Why is Danny here?”

“Clearly we didn’t know he was the one you were meeting!” Jake snapped. “Why wouldn’t you tell me who you were getting dinner with? We got all excited for nothing.”

“Why do I owe you that information?”

“Why didn’t you say something, Dan?” Josh pointed out, all of them turning to Danny, who felt heat flushing his face as all three brothers glared at him. Danny caught Sam’s eye, giving him a silent look of pleading and questioning. They were completely and utterly cornered.

“For the record, you barely let me get a word in,” Danny attempted to explain. 

“What is happening?” Jake laughed, dragging a hand down his face. “Sam, we totally thought we were staking out your date. We know you have a girlfriend, okay, so we roped Danny into helping us figure out who it was, but-”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Sam cut him off. “We’re dating. There.”

He gestured towards Danny, who sat red faced and silent as Jake’s mouth gaped slightly in shock and Josh let out another shocked gasp. 

“Now you understand my hesitancy about the stakeout,” Danny muttered sheepishly, beginning a nervous ramble as the twins visibly absorbed the new information. “I wanted to say something but I didn’t want to before Sam said something to you guys, so I tried to play along, but then Sam’s phone was dead and I couldn’t text him about what was going on and Sam, I am so sorry, I didn’t want to stand you up, but I didn’t want them to get suspicious and-”

“Ah, ah, ah, okay, stop,” Josh interjected, waving his hands around as Danny and Sam kept a tense eye contact, Danny pleading for forgiveness with his eyes as Sam’s glare slowly began to soften. “Why didn’t you guys tell us sooner?”

“What, you thought we’d be mad?” Jake laughed, pointing at Josh. “Remember how little negative response Josh got? Mom was like okay, cool, that’s awesome, we don’t care.”

“I know, I know,” Sam said, sinking into the empty fourth chair at their table, blushing uncomfortably. “It’s just…I love you guys, but you always make such a big deal about whatever I’m doing, and I just didn’t want it to be a big thing.”

“We’re not going to be, like, all PDA and insufferable,” Danny added on. Sam laughed in agreement and half of Danny’s tension melted at the sound. 

Jake and Josh exchanged an extremely guilty look over the table.

“Sam, I’m so sorry,” Jake lamented, grasping Sam by the shoulder. “You know it’s because we love you and you’re our baby brother, but I’m sorry we made you so uncomfortable. You gotta tell us when we’re too much, man, you know we don’t know.”

“You can talk to me about stuff like this,” Josh offered, his voice gentle and genuine as he and Sam exchanged a knowing look. “About whatever you’re feeling that might, I don’t know, scare you. Even if it doesn’t scare you, talk to me anyway. I get it.”

“I know you get it,” Sam’s voice cracked, his face crumpling for a second before he scrubbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater and let out a long contained breath. “I do. It’s just… it’s hard to introduce this whole new thing about myself without getting all anxious about what people might say. Even when I know it’s not a big deal, I know someone else might think it’s a big deal.”

“Fuck everybody else,” Josh exclaimed, grabbing Sam’s hand and squeezing it. “Seriously! Fuck ‘em. This is great news.”

“Sorry it came out like this,” Jake apologized again, grabbing Sam’s other hand and reaching across the table to grab one of Danny’s. “Let’s all pinky promise to keep each other totally in the loop from now on.”

With a quiet chorus of laughs, they all messily exchanged pinky promises. 

“Are we allowed to ask questions?” Josh prodded carefully, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Yes,” Sam agreed.

“But you only get three questions a piece.” Danny added on.

“That is way too many questions!” Sam argued, shooting Danny a much more good natured glare. 

“No take backsies!” Josh insisted, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Hm. Who told who they liked each other first?”

“Also,” Jake interjected before either of them could answer. “When?”

“Well,” Danny started. “I technically did, at Sam’s birthday party. But Sam totally cornered me into doing it. You guys are good at doing that to me, so it seems.”

“I did not corner you!” Sam scoffed. 

“Yes, you did! You were mega drunk and hinting at it.”

“At the party?” Josh let out a sigh of disappointment. “And we missed it?”

“Bummer, man,” Jake complained. “I’d pay to see that.”

“I don’t think you would,” Danny mumbled into a sip of his water, and Sam shot him another look as the twins groaned. 

“Nevermind,” Josh gagged. “Okay, my second question is…how long did you each like the other person? Because I have guesses.”

“What do you mean, guesses?” Sam squeaked, his face flushing again.

“I want to hear this,” Danny laughed, suddenly self conscious of just how transparent he had been this whole time. 

“I’d guess you, Danny, probably liked Sam since…middle school?” Josh guessed, and he hooted in triumph when Danny sighed and nodded shyly. “Boom! Okay, two for two, I’m guessing Sam liked you since high school.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Sam replied exasperatedly, which Josh took as another confirmation and held his hand up for a high five from any of them, but received not a single one. 

“You guys weren’t all that subtle,” Jake powered on as Sam and Danny obscured their faces with embarrassed face palms. “I actually have no idea why we didn’t guess Danny as your potential beau sooner.”

“He didn’t even make Top 5,” Josh added. “We’re off our game, Jakey.”

“Indeed we are.”

“Well, this has been nice and all,” Sam began. “And by nice I mean emotionally tumultuous, but we did have something planned, so, Danny, do you…?”

“Yes, please, God,” Danny answered, getting to his feet and skirting around Josh to finally stand at Sam’s side. 

“Hey, you said we got three questions!” Josh protested.

“I only asked one, what the fuck!” Jake argued in agreement. 

“Text them to us, date crashers,” Sam stuck his tongue out childishly at them. “Or should I say ‘stalkers’? I’m including that detail when I call Mom, by the way.”

“Do not!”

“Boohoo.”

“Are you guys going to stick around?” Danny asked with an amused lift of his eyebrow. 

“Well, I mean, we ordered appetizers and all,” Jake explained sheepishly, raising his glass of wine and shrugging. “Might as well.”

“It gives us more time to plot our next stake out,” Josh grinned, flicking his sunglasses back down to cover his eyes. “Elle Fernanda and Oliver Reed are a fantastic investigatory team, you know.”

“I-you know what, I don’t care,” Sam dismissed them, looking up at Danny. “Let’s go, yes?”

“Yes,” Danny confirmed. “I’m guessing you’re not keen on sticking around for dinner here.”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Can I tempt you with a frozen pizza and Psych?”

“Absolutely you can,” Sam grinned, looping his arm through Danny’s and tugging him back from the table. The twins immediately burst into a chorus of awes and endearing coos, and Sam shot them their own round of complaints as Danny waved goodbye.

~~

Once they were out of shouting distance, Sam let out a huff of air and leaned his head against Danny’s shoulder, causing them to stumble slightly as they walked. It was rare for them to not talk while on the move, but a few minutes of quiet passed between them until Danny finally spoke up.

“I should’ve texted you anyways,” Danny said. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, I should’ve had the brains to bring a charger,” Sam countered with a feline smile. “I’m sorry, too. It’s my fault for not telling them in the first place. We should’ve known this would end the way it did.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Danny chuckled. “I mean, now that they know, we only have to face our parents, and we’ll be lucky if they don’t hound us even more than them.”

“Ugh, God, you’re so right. My mom is going to flip. She likes you more than me, you know.”

“She adores you, Sam, come on.”

“I’m just saying don’t be surprised if she asks you to start being in our Christmas cards.”

“Oh, right, and you’d hate that,” Danny countered sarcastically. 

“Totally,” Sam doubled down, his smile growing as he stared up into Danny’s eyes with the doe eyed look that made Danny nearly trip over his own feet as they approached Sam’s car. “Sorry my brothers are idiots.”

“They said it themselves, they just care,” Danny said, brushing a loose strand of hair out of Sam’s face as they stood in the warm dying light of the sunset. “Let’s cap the apologies for the night, okay? They’re idiots, we’re idiots, we know this.”

“Okay,” Sam replied quietly, looking nervous for a split second before speaking again. “Hey, uh, just, thank you.”

Danny frowned in confusion.

“For what?”

“Understanding,” Sam went on. “For not being, I don’t know, scared off by all the weirdness that follows me.”

“Sam, I’ve been there for every weird thing that’s ever happened to you,” Danny laughed. “If I was going to get scared off, that would’ve happened a long time ago.”

“I know, I know, it just means more to me now that we’re, you know…”

Sam smiled sheepishly and Danny felt like his heart was fit to burst in his chest from how much he loved him in that moment.

“I’m the lucky one, trust me,” Danny insisted, pinching Sam’s cheek endearingly.

“Ugh, gross,” Sam teased, batting his hand away and pulling out his keys, but Danny didn’t miss the smile Sam failed to squander as he fumbled with the lock button. 

“You’re gross,” Danny countered, mimicking the open mouthed stank face Sam sent him in reply as he circled to the driver’s seat and unlocked the car. Danny piled his long limbs into his seat and watched Sam start up the car and pull up his address on his GPS, his heart fluttering in further endearment at Sam’s complete lack of direction. Without thinking, Danny plucked Sam’s phone from his hand and set it on the dash.

“Hey! What-”

Danny cut him off by grabbing Sam by the jaw and pulling him into a long kiss, both of them drawing it out by huffing excitedly through their noses and cupping the other's face until Danny finally pulled away. Sam watched him with starry eyes, a dumbstruck smile on his face as Danny returned the look and cupped Sam’s face in his hands.

“I just missed you today,” Danny hummed. “And I’m thankful that didn’t end in complete disaster. I felt completely horrible watching you sit all alone. I seriously wanted to throw up seeing your little sad face.”

“Really?” Sam asked, preening in Danny’s attention. 

“I did!”

“I was only sad because I missed you, too,” Sam relinquished, putting his hand over Danny’s on his cheek. “I was surprised you were taking so long. You’re always early for me.”

“And I always will be,” Danny assured him. “I promise.”

“Even after I graduate?”

“Duh.”

“Even after I get some fancy science job and I have to move?”

“Sure.”

“Even after-”

“Whatever it is, yes, Sam, I’ll be there,” Danny laughed. “Seriously. I’ll follow you anywhere. And I’ll be right on time.”

Sam paused, drinking in the sincerity of the statement. Then, in typical Sam fashion, his face split into a cheeky smile.

“And if I ask you to go to a party with me?”

Danny swallowed, thinking hard as he relished in the warmth of Sam’s skin on his palm. Finally, he smiled in return and leaned in slightly.

“I’d go if you promise to never run again,” Danny whispered, and Sam shuddered slightly at the rasp in his voice. “And if you promise to always say the dumb shit you’re afraid of saying.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “I promise.”

“One more pinky promise for the road?” Danny grinned, moving his hand from Sam’s face and holding out his pinky for Sam to grasp. Sam looked down at his digit and raised an eyebrow.

“I can do you one better,” Sam insisted. 

Danny didn’t get the time for a witty retort before Sam leaned in and gave him another kiss. It was a little clumsy, and lasted far longer than necessary for the situation, but after it was done, Danny spent the entire ride home reveling in the realization that he’d just been promised a lifetime's worth of them. And he intended to cash in each and every one.

~~

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