#I know this is a sad moment but this won’t leave my brain

[thehopefulwonderlandcollector]

Ozai: “Take the 41st Division with you as your crew.”

The 41st Division:

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ You Too;

Pairing; fem!reader x fuck buddy!Lee Heeseung Synopsis; Caught between pleasure, you confess your love to Heeseung, only to face his cold resistance. For two years, your connection was built on sex, but your feelings have grown deeper than he can accept. As emotions spiral, raw truths and unspoken pain surface, culminating in a bittersweet goodbye. Genre; Angst; (this was written based on the lyrics of the song "You Too" by Chase Atlantic. More specifically: «It’s hard for me to end a conversation with ‘’I love you’’ when I know it’s not true.» Warning; It has a small description of a sex scene because of the story itself; It's Not really suggestive because it's sad asf; mean!Heeseung (he is kind of a dick); swearing; My Masterlist;

A/N: I wrote this years ago for another blog I had. It was saved because I thought it was so good! It's very sad so get ready... Heeseung stans, I apologize in advance! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you!

Those three words full of sentiment made him blank. He can’t believe you said it. He can’t believe you let your feelings take over something that was so primordial and basic like sex. He wants your body, but you want his soul, his heart, his love. Heeseung can’t love anyone, not again. Those three words transformed all of the desire he had controlling his body into a turn-off.

He lifted himself off you completely—not only off your body but also out of your life. He can’t love you back. He won’t love you back. He hates the fact that he doesn’t love you back. His whole body was shivering, his brain was shouting at him to leave immediately, his heart was breaking, and his soul was terrified. His stomach ached, and he felt like throwing up. Heesung stood up on his feet and searched for his boxers, pulling them back onto his muscular body.

You and Heeseung were in it; he was deep inside of you, sweat on his forehead, his thick eyebrows pushed together in concentration. Everything was hot and full of desire. The moment you finally came, your body felt like being thrown off a cliff, and you floated, the waves of pleasure taking advantage of everything inside you. The warmth of his lips against yours as he came made you say it.

Tears were creeping at the corners of your eyes. You said it. How ignorant of you, knowing he is hurt, broken, and afraid of love.

“Hee, please, stop this! Those words mean nothing; it was just in the heat of the moment… Please,” you beg him, grabbing his wrist, trying to stop him from doing his belt. The tall pink-haired man took your hands off his in an aggressive manner, pushing you back forcefully, causing you to fall on the mattress of your bed. You were sobbing uncontrollably. You had lost him…

How stupid of you.

“YOU STOP!” he yelled. “Stop trying to make me feel bad for not loving you back…” His t-shirt was already on him, almost making him look unbothered, but he had always looked so good in white.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Heeseung. We have been like this for two years—” The tears felt hot rolling down your cheeks, but the anger inside you just seemed to grow bigger. “—YOU SHOULD HAVE PREDICTED IT! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!” you scream, this time very close to him, punching his chest, even though you knew it didn’t affect him.

“WHY SHOULD I?! FUCK, YN, WE ARE JUST FUCK BUDDIES, AND YOU KNOW IT! I TOLD YOU I DIDN’T WANT ANYTHING FROM YOU BESIDES YOUR BODY!” Heeseung yelled, his fingers getting lost in his messy pink hair.

The pain was so obvious on your face—the red eyes and wet cheeks. He hated to see you cry. Your sobs almost made him feel horrible for what he was about to say, but he couldn’t give you what you wanted. He couldn’t love you.

“It’s your fault because you fell in love. It’s your fault because you trusted me. It’s your fault for giving me your body.” Now, he articulated slowly and in a low voice, trying not to hurt you more.

You wanted to beat him, slap him in the face, yell at him for being so fucking selfish… but all he said was true. And you felt so fucking pathetic.

“What are you going to do now?” you asked him, cleaning the tears on your cheeks with the back of your hand, trying not to look so pitiful.

Heeseung was already putting his black Fila trainers on—the ones you gave him last year. When he heard your question, he didn’t even bother to lift his head to look at you to answer. “I can find someone else to fuck. Don’t worry.” You laughed ironically, the sour truth leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and burning your sweet heart.

“I LOVE YOU, DAMN IT. WHY DON’T YOU SAY IT BACK?” you yelled again at him, falling on your knees with the tears streaming down your face once again. “I don’t care if your ‘I love you’ is fake, a lie, and completely empty. I can’t be without you… Please, don’t leave me…”

Now he walked toward you. Heeseung grabbed your hand and helped you stand up. Then he stared at your face for a whole minute without a word.

He admired your eyes—those eyes that used to sparkle with happiness every time you saw him—only to find sadness and disappointment. He stroked your cheeks with both of his thumbs, those cute fat cheeks he used to squeeze because he knew you hated it, only to feel them wet from all the tears you had cried.

He looked at your lips, the ones that caught his attention the most for being so plump and kissable. They were bloody because you were biting them too hard, hoping the pain would ease the bigger one in your heart. Deep inside, he was hurt too. Seeing you this way was truly heartbreaking. But no, his pride was more important than anything. Love is pain, and he wasn’t going to get hurt again.

Heeseung’s big hands cupped your jaw, and he kissed you. A simple peck that lasted at least five seconds, like he was showing how sorry he was without words. Then, close to the door, he took one last glance at you and confessed:

“It’s hard for me to end a conversation with ‘I love you’ when I know it’s not true…” You couldn’t differentiate if he was being cocky or telling the truth.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie If you want to be added or removed from the taglist, comment bellow!

[propertyofwicked]

sambuca - LN

warnings: swearing, alcohol and mentions of being sick.

short fluff :) fewtrell!reader

this can be read as a stand alone or as a prequel to the secrets series!

the moment her friend ordered a round of black sambuca, she knew her night was going to turn in a horrible direction, but she was too drunk to care, necking the shot back and coughing as the liquid travelled down her throat. in her few years of adulthood, she’d yet to have a night end well after the shots got ordered.

as last orders were called, y/n started to panic. it was too late to call her brother to pick her up and she was far too drunk to walk home, but almost by instinct, she scrolled through her contacts, landing on her brothers best friend. in her drunken state, she didn’t seem to realise it was 2am and that he might be asleep - he always helped her, so why wouldn’t he now, she thought to herself.

her phone rang twice before he picked up.

“y/n?” lando grumbled, clearly haven just been woken up, “is everything ok?”

she replied, but it was completely incoherent, her words slurring into a mashup of her sentence.

“y/n? who are you with? is caitlin there?” he asked, and she nodded before realising he couldn’t see her and gave him a quick mhm.

“can you pass the phone to her please, angel?” he said, and the phone was being passed to the girls best friend, who was surprisingly still standing, and most importantly to lando, speaking sense.

“hiiii lando,” she said, slurring but still coherent, “is everything ok?”

“that’s what i want to ask you,” he laughed, “are you guys leaving now? do you need a lift home?”

“i don’t,” she said, hiccupping, “but i think your girl might need somewhere to crash for the night.”

“text me the pub you’re at, ill be there in 10 minutes.”

“ok - you might wanna bring a bucket.”

“i might not bring the mclaren then,” he laughed again, before hanging up, throwing a hoodie on and grabbing his car keys. he reached the door, before doubling back to the kitchen, picking up a plastic bag and a bottle of water. this was not his first rodeo, and he didn’t feel like having a repeat of the time she vomited in max’s car and his shoes.

when he pulled up outside the pub, it didn’t take him long to see y/n, crouched to the floor, back leaning against the wall of the pub, her poor friend stood next to her, reaching down slightly to stroke her hair. lando moved out of the car, walking round to where the girl was sat, quickly realising her eyes were streaming tears. crouching down to her level, his hand came to rest on her shoulder.

“hey angel, what’s up? why are we crying?”

why was she crying? because she thought about how pretty and kind lando was and it made drunk little brain sad to think that he would never want her was the real answer, instead she settled for

“i don’t know,” she sad sadly, looking up at him and smiling slightly when their eyes met, “you won’t tell max about this, will you?”

“of course not,” he replied, although not sure what he was agreeing to hide from max. as he raised himself up to stand, he grabbed her arms to pull her up with him, although her balanced failed and she toppled into his chest - his arms came to rest on her waist to stabilise her.

“sorry,” she mumbled, looking up at him again, she was so close he could smell the alcohol on her breath.

“it’s ok y/n,” he said, rubbing his hands up and down her back, before glancing to the girl besides her, “who gave her sambuca?”

“not me,” she defends herself, holding up her hands.

“fucks sake.”

“in my defence, by the time i tried to stop her, she’d already drank it.”

“it’s alright, this is going to be rough. worse for her though,” he responds, moving to turn y/n around in his arms and march her in the direction of his car, “you still fine to get home?”

“don’t worry about me, please just get her into a bed. or a sofa. or a bathroom.” and with that he helped y/n into the passenger seat, reaching across her to buckle her in.

“you smell nice,” she slurred into his ear as he moved back. he chose to ignore the comment, feeling his heart skip a beat, shut the door and jog back round to the drivers side.

“see you later, caitlin. message y/n when you get home safe please,” he adds, waving to the girl before climbing in the car himself.

“what are we gonna do with you?” he asks to no one, glancing to the girl hunched over in his passenger seat, pulling off slowly.

“hi,” she perks up after 5 minutes of silence, looking to the side to smile at him. his side profile is so pretty, she thinks to herself, before shaking any thoughts like that out her brain.

“hi yourself,” he responds, flicking the indicator on, “how you feeling?”

“im good.”

“you sure? i don’t need to pull over do i?”

“not yet. just, just keep driving slow. please,” she begs slightly.

“it’s ok we’re nearly there.”

“where is there?”

“my flat.”

“not max’s?”

“i don’t think you want max seeing you in this state. i don’t think max’s shoes want to see you in this state either,” he joked.

“HEY! that was one time. and i bought him new shoes after.”

“no you didn’t.”

“ok. you bought him new shoes, but i gave them to him,” she argues back, lando simply snorts in response.

“we’re here angel,” he says, coming to a slow stop. angel, she thought, i like when he calls me that.

she grabs the door handle, flinging the door open, and moves to stand up before bashing her head on the roof of the low car.

“fuck,” she exclaimed, “that was a bit silly of me, wasn’t it.”

“yes, it was,” lando replied bluntly, moving to take one of her hands in his, the other resting on the top of his car to provide a soft bumper if she hit her head again.

“are you mad at me?” she asks sadly, after seeing his jaw clench and unclench on the way to his flat.

“not at you, angel, never at you. im mad at whoever gave you sambuca.”

“i gave it to me,” she says, giggling. he simply shakes his head at her.

the moment the front door shuts, she’s sprinting to his bathroom, the mixture of drinks finally resurfacing in the back of her throat. lando follows quickly behind her, just in time to bend behind her and scoop her hair up out of her face, his spare hand moving to stroke her back softly.

“that’s it, get it all up,” he coos softly, “thank you for not doing this in my car,” although he doubts she can hear his remark.

“gonna sleep in my bed tonight, angel? is that ok? wanna keep an eye on you,” he asks her as she finally sits, resting her back on his stomach. she looks up at him, nodding slightly, eyes blinking heavily in exhaustion.

“need to take my make up off,” she says, still slurring but less than before. he nods before moving to his bathroom cabinet, pulling out a cleanser and wipes.

“why do you have those?”

“they’re yours, y/n. from the last time you and max stayed over after a night out.” she says nothing in response, simply leaning back into him again as he moves his arm around her to wipe away the makeup on her face. his actions are not to soft, but not too rough - again, this is not his first rodeo with a drunk y/n fewtrell. once he’s done, he shuffles out to his bedroom, leaving y/n on the bathroom floor, to wallow in self pity, she thought to herself. when he returns he throws a shirt at her, and a pair of his boxers for her to change in to.

“ill be in my room, come find me when you’re changed,” he says, turning on his heel to leave her in privacy. she stands to change, catching a glance at herself in the mirror.

jesus, i look so rough. i cannot sleep in that mans bed. this is bad. this is very bad.

but alas, y/n found herself climbing into lando’s bed mere minutes later, choosing comfort over the protection of her feelings.

“come ‘ere,” he says to her, pulling her gently towards him, her head coming to rest on his chest as his arms wrap around her, “why did you get so drunk y/n?”

“m’celebrating.”

“celebrating what?”

“life,” she says, she would’ve thought of a better reason had her heart not been beating a thousand times a minute.

“get some sleep. there’s some water on your side if you need it. your phones on charge next to it.”

“thank you, lan. for this, for picking me up, for dealing with my shit.”

“don’t mention it, angel. now, rest. ill deal with you in the morning.” now she may have been drunk, but she could feel lando’s lips pressing gently to the top of her head.

“turn it off,” she groans, light flooding behind her eye lids, lando chuckles.

“turn what off? the sun? sorry let me just tap into my divine powers and sort that out for you, your majesty.”

“shut up.”

“you started it.”

she groaned again, opening her eyes fully. quickly she realised she was laying on her side, her back pressed into lando’s back, his arms still tightly around her. her arm reaches out to grab her phone and check her messages.

“caitlin told me to tell you she’s home safe, she also said good luck - why is she wishing you luck?”

“probably due to the state you were in last night,” he laughs again.

“oh my god, im so sorry.”

“don’t be, it was funny.”

“funny? it was mortifying. my head hurts so bad.”

“have some water, there’s some paracetamol there for you as well.”

“no not like a headache. like my head actually hurts,” she adds, moving her arm to rub the stop on her head that ached.

“oh! that’ll be from when you smacked your head on the roof of my car,” he replies, moving his own hand up to her head to inspect the damage.

“no that’s so embarrassing i didn’t do that,” she denies, a red flush rising on her cheeks.

“i can ask security for the camera footage in the car park if you want.”

“shut up,” she said bluntly, as he bit the urge to respond with make me. he found himself quickly reminded of his promise last night. don’t tell max. the position he found himself in now was a sobering realisation as to how max really couldn’t know about this.

“you want a lift to max’s?” he asks suddenly.

“erm, no. could you take me to caitlin’s instead? all good if not, i can get an uber.”

“nah that’s fine, when do you wanna go?”

they moved swiftly on from max, both silently agreeing that any sign of y/n in lando’s clothes, hungover and crawling out of his car was a bad idea. a very bad idea.

[solar4seekstron]

Conjunx

TFOne!D-16/Megatron x Cybertronian!Reader One Shot:

Here’s another One Shot with my bbg D-16. This one just cam e into mind so of course i got to writing. I’m pretty proud of this story and I enjoyed writing for only D. I hope you all enjoy!

Content: SFW, sad ending

TW/Tags: Fluff/Wholesomeness at beginning, D is precious and silly, angst after cut after wholesome romance, Implied abuse (mild), kidnapping, toxic relationship at end. Might make part 2? We’ll see what my brain throws at me at 2 am lol

Introduction Movie Oneshot Masterlist

You and D only really hanged out when Orion was around. Not because D was embarrassed but because Orion was usually busy doing something else. You were seen as a quiet bot and also cool by D. You always stood up to the superiors knowing you weren’t out of line. And despite being a few inches smaller then D. You were strong! D won’t admit it but he was defiantly attracted to you.

One day when getting off the train, Orion did something stupid again. Elita dragged him away to do a late mining shift as punishment. Later D was alone and worked on punching the punching bag in the mining quarters. The others left him be, knowing his temper without Orion. He was so focused he didn’t notice you came up behind him. Knowing he might try to punch you if you startled him. You descide to pick him up by the waist strartling him “Hey you glitchin bot! Put me dow- Oh its you.” You put him down. He looked at you no longer startled.

”Sorry D didn’t want you to punch me if I didn’t pick you up.” You chuckled.

”You know you could’ve handled my punches right?”

”Yes but I would’ve had to punch you back.”

”…..Good point.” He pointed his digit to you.

”You mind if we talk?” D almost froze as his smile shows to have strained a bit as he looked at you. “It’s nothing bad.” You chuckled. “Come on lets go where we can see the Iacon 5000 sign.”

“O-ok.” You two walked and once up there you finally spoke.

”So D I’ve been thinking. We’ve been good friends for a good while and was hoping. Since after all this time-“ You continue to speak as his head only started to overthink.

Was so lost in thought of you possibly leaving him that he barely heard you. He then heard you say Conjunx out of the blurr of what you’re saying. But that word brought him out of his thoughts “What you say?”

”D-16 will you be my Conjunx?” You were on one knee. (Thought it be cute shud up) D was dumbfounded until he realized and his face no longer showed a blank expression but had a cute little grin appear on his face. He then shakes a little. Little sounds of metal being heard. You reached a cervo toawrds him once you stood, a bit worried “Uhhh D??”

Then out of no where he hugged you and started spinning, you around as he shouted in cheer and joy. You were now dumbfounded and put your cervos on his shoulders gently patting. “So…..that’s a yes?” He then holds you up with his hands holding your waist.

”YES!!!!” I have been waiting for so lo-“ He looked at you once he stopped. He can tell you were trying to hold in a laugh. “Uhh”

”Guess tonight will be a night to never forget.” You both chuckled and embrace each other. Both of your foreheads touching as you two closed your eyes.

D then lets out a soft sigh as he gently lowers you. You standing once more. Your arms around his neck and his around your waist. Your foreheads still touching as you two stared into each other’s eyes.

”I love you Y/N”

”I love you D. Mine. Always and Forever.”

You both leaned closer together and as your lips both finally touch. The sparks in your chests soon glow. Shinning around you as you two stay in the moment together with the sign of Iacon 5000 behind you both in the dark city.

———————————————————————————

(Last chance guys skip this part if you don’t wanna feel pain)

Megatron sat in his throne as he thought about that night. It is truly the night to remember. After everything. He lost his best friend, his home, and after realizing he has been lied to for all his life up to now. He just couldn’t lose you. The high guard was third to him. His new cause is his new goal but you. YOU are the one thing that truly belongs to him.

As he sat there, his head resting on his fist as he watched the high guards having a meeting. He listened, only glancing down to see you every so often as you rest your head and one of your cervos against his chassis.

Your optics closed as you sat on his lap. You had a cog and a decepticon logo on your chassis. His arm around behind your back and cervo resting on your thigh. Your other cervo that wasn’t on his chest resting on top of his on your thigh. You had a few dents. Proof from when he forced you to come with him when sneaking into the city and take you with him. After some time he had to discipline you to behave. Same thing when he forced you to stay still as the Decepticon logo was put on you. You are His Conjunx. You should really learn to trust him. He even threatened to hurt you more if you chose to break the bond from that very night. Ever since then you’ve been tired and miserable. You always felt his feelings through the bond. But you can still feel that love he has for you. Only it’s much darker now.

You listened to his spark beat as you two stayed silent. Starscream and Shockwave started to argue as Soundwave sat there with a data pad. You’d slowly open your optics. You had a little rust under your eyes. Not very visible if far enough.

You cried. You cry every night after Megatron goes to recharge. The meeting eventually ends and Megatron dismisses everyone. Once everyone was gone he looked down at you. Finally lifting his head so he’s more straight sitting up. Moving his cervo to now hold your chin. Making you look at him as his now red optics narrowed and stared down at you. “Hungry sweetspark?” His voice was darker and rough. It still makes you flinch when he speaks to you.

You didn’t answer. You only shook your head as your optics remained dim. He leaned his head lower a bit. His face only inches from yours. “Almost Obedient…hm…”

You two remain silent for a moment.

“Mine. Always and Forever.”

He closes the distance. His lips connecting with yours once more after so long. His lips now cold as he closed his optics. You closed yours a second after.

But you didn’t return the kiss. His cervo moving from your thigh to the back of your head. Pushing your head a bit closer. Your kiss is no longer the same. His kiss. Is no longer the same. Megatron wasn’t Your D-16.

So….. y’all like 😗? If you wish for a part two please let me know.

[thejujvtsupost]

Suguru Wants A Baby

F!reader holds a friend’s newborn baby, and it took exactly one moment for it to hit Geto. When he saw you holding your friend’s newborn, looking so natural and making silly faces to make the baby laugh, it clicked, he wants a baby with you. Your own little one to nurture and protect.

Notes: fem!reader, breeding kink, soft dom Geto, smut, vaginal sex, oral (f!receiving) and dirty talk. I’m serious this is literally just filthy - more under the cut.

Visiting with your friend who just had a baby boy was the highlight of your week. His little face and tiny feet had you cooing and making faces to keep him laughing.

Geto couldn’t look away from the scene, his pretty wife holding a cute baby so naturally- you didn’t think twice before getting him a bottle and burping him. You were happy to help your friend while her own husband was at work.

And when you were leaving, and you handed the baby back to your friend, your arms felt empty. You schooled your features before anyone could notice your utter disappointment and sadness.

Of course Geto noticed, which only made his thoughts run faster. If you want a baby, and he wants a baby… oh he was determined to give you a family on the spot.

He bided his time, as soon as you got home he would pounce. The car ride home was quiet but he didn’t interrupt your thoughts you were obviously deep into. He was patient, so patient despite his need for you, up until you started crying before you could take your shoes off.

“Sweetheart what’s wrong?” He held you to his chest and you buried your face against it. Shaking your head to deny any problem existing. “C’mon, let me in. I can’t help unless you tell me what happened.”

“‘Want a baby ‘guru, I’m sorry.” Your sniffles were breaking his heart, as if he’d ever want you to apologize for something like that.

He tilted your face up and kissed you, slowly at first until it gave way for his urgency. You had to push him back to breathe, “You okay? Not mad?”

Geto groaned and spoke against your lips, “I’ll give you as many babies as you want, right now. Say the word, please say the word. Tell me you want my babies- our babies.” He was spiraling, unwilling to get distracted by anything other than you.

“‘Need you- want your babies in me.” Your thighs had been clenching from the first urgent kiss for any semblance of relief.

He took his shirt off and threw it behind him. “Jump.”

And you did, your legs around his waist; his hands tearing your shirt over your head and tossed somewhere unknown. Your bra was practically ripped from your body, nothing was going to keep your body hidden from him.

You shrieked and broke your kiss when he tossed you on the bed, he didn’t waste time before getting the rest of your clothes off and diving between your legs like he would die if he waited any longer to taste you.

“Fuck this pussy is so good to me, gonna get you pregnant and keep you that way- cute and round, ‘won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” You don’t know what came over him, but he was eating you out so good and adding his fingers to the mix, playing you like an instrument.

“C’mon need your cock, need you inside of me.” Hips unable to stop moving, your need for him only grew. You were more than wet enough, he typically pulled an orgasm out of you to make sure you wouldn’t feel pain from his considerable length and right now you hated him for it.

He pulled away from your folds and placed a hand on your stomach to hold you still. “Don’t rush me baby, my little pussy needs attention and I’m givin it to her. I’ll take care of you ‘n give you what you need.”

You moaned when he returned to sucking your clit and stroking you from the inside- it hit you so fast. Your orgasm caught you off guard and your legs snapped closed around your husband’s head. Your brain went fuzzy.

“That’s it sweetheart, so good f’me.” Geto took his time and let you come down nice and easy. There were few things he liked seeing more than your blissed out expression.

That’s not enough for him though, you were never left unsatisfied but you were in for a night of orgasm after orgasm. God he wanted to fuck his cum into you, breed you thoroughly until there was no possible way you weren’t pregnant. His pretty little wife round and swollen with their unborn baby- he couldn’t hold back.

Fully covering his body over yours to demand your attention, “How do you want it, how do you want me to breed you?” Your moan at his words was music to his ears.

“Need you deep” you pushed him off of you and flipped to your hands and knees, then arched your back and let your upper body rest on the mattress.

“Oh fuck…” your pink cunt dripping on display for him was too much for him to handle. Geto rushed to get the rest of his clothes off and lined up behind you and slid in.

As slowly as he could at first, he hadn’t stretched you out beforehand. But then you slammed your hips back onto him and- oh god he got so deep inside of you that you saw white. “Please- gimme everything daddy.” You looked back at him with glossy eyes and that was the last thread snapping. He drilled his cock into you with a pace that you didn’t know was achievable, you loved it.

“This what ya wanted baby? You need my cock in this little pussy of yours? Need bred like a good girl?” You wouldn’t be able to hear him over your own sounds if he wasn’t directly in your ear, his large frame dwarfing yours.

You could only nod with a high pitched keen that sounded like fuck me daddy. “Yeah ‘m gonna give ya every drop when this cunt milks me, gonna give ya baby after baby, keep ya pregnant for me. Just gotta stuff you full of my cum, knock you up.”

He’s losing himself in you, he pulls you up to your knees with his arm holding you up, his other hand holding your throat gently. The contrast between his thrusts and the care he put into his hand around your neck, only squeezing the side the tiniest bit to increase your pleasure; it had you fluttering around him.

“Pussy so tight f’me fuck feel me? Put your hand on your stomach, right over your womb m’bout to fill. Thats it, daddy’s so deep inside of you baby.” Pressing down over the bulge of his cock inside of you has you both getting loud in your shared pleasure.

It was over when he got his unoccupied hand down to your clit and rubbed it the way you liked, you tightened around him like a vice, your release squirted out around his cock and he spilled inside of you.

The few thrusts of overstimulation had you clenching tighter until a second mini orgasm followed.

‘S’good for me sweetheart, so good.” You’re not sure when or how it happened but you were laying on your side with your back against his chest, him still inside of you with his hand rubbing along your slightly bloated stomach. You let yourself be lulled into a nap from the post orgasm haze. Suguru sounded way too smug when he praised you.

Maybe you’d go again when you wake up- if you weren’t too sore that is…

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open! <3

[osamucide]

⊹ FOR SURE

RELATIVELY STABLE AND TENTATIVELY ABLE TO SAY FOR CERTAIN WHETHER THIS UNCERTAINTY IS FOR SURE . . . ft. Osamu Dazai

wc: 2k

cw: sad and probably ooc dazai but he’s my husband so i actually know how he falls apart, pretty straightforward references to anxiety+dissociation, references to self harm+suicidal ideation but nothing graphic, angst+hurt/comfort, dazai cries and then you feed him that's all

reid: a little spur of the moment something i started when i wasn’t feeling so hot a bit ago. ethel cain’s cover of this song has altered the course of my life anyway enjoy me projecting

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

He was quiet when he got home, which is uncharacteristic, unless he’s scheming. But there was no glint in his eyes and no menace behind his grin, only exhaustion. What’s more is there was no downcast expression, no particularly sluggish movement to suggest he was upset; granted, he would regularly go on performing his usual persona even if he was upset. He was always all moving puzzle pieces, all thick mask and mystery.

It’s a good thing you’ve learned to read him so plainly.

You owe it to the little shared space you’re in, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, reading a book of his as he shakes his coat off and tosses it across the small dining table with two chairs side-by-side at it instead of across from one another. Dazai usually hangs his coat up on the rack by the door, slips his shoes off mindlessly and comes to flop his entire body weight on top of you, but tonight he pulls his laces undone and leaves his shoes tucked neatly against the wall, walks by the back of the couch to press a ghostly kiss to the crown of your head, and heads straight to the bathroom, which he locks himself in.

You swallow as you hear the shower start. You had specifically picked out an apartment with a standing shower, no tub, when you moved in with him. You’d emptied it of razors a handful of times and you probably would a handful of times more, and you kept all of both of your medication in your bedside table. Still, you can no longer quite focus on the words in front of you.

So, you flick the television on. A little more noise in your brain helps tune out the shower that’s just that—a shower. He showers, most often, because he’s feeling strange and not because he needs to feel clean. Maybe he needs to feel clean, but not in a way that a shower will allow. He does it anyway. You wait.

When the water turns off and he doesn’t immediately bounce out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, singsonging which leftovers you should heat up for him, you turn the TV volume down a few notches. When it’s been five minutes or so, you find yourself in the kitchen putting day-old bibimbap in the microwave. When it’s been ten, you’re knocking on the door.

"Osamu?" Your voice is soft as your knock. "I waited for you to eat." Dirty trick, you know. But you also know he won’t otherwise; not on a night like this.

You hear a bit of shuffling before the bathroom door creaks open. His eyes are red, his nose flushed, and he’s rubbing his face with the corner of his towel like he’s just awoken from a nap. He’s got no bandages on. He nearly whispers, "You didn’t have to."

"Wanted to." You work the towel from his hands as he turns the light off. He’ll hide behind the darkness if nothing else, but it’s alright; you’ll let him. You pat water from his shoulders before you sling the towel around him like a cape. You whisper back, "I’ll get you clothes. Please get silverware, yes?"

You don’t give him much of a choice, but he’s in a state where he’s pliant enough to listen to corporeal orders. Getting silverware will be a marginally easier task than dressing for him right now.

After pulling a sweatshirt and pair of pajama pants out of your drawers—they’re his, or maybe yours, doesn’t really matter; what does matter is they cover as much skin as possible—you return to him on the couch, two bowls of cooling bibimbap with chopsticks stuck in them on coffee table. He’s got as much of his bare body under the towel as it will allow.

When you set next to him and peel the towel back he looks nearly catatonic. It spurs tears to your lash line, but you hold back. "Arms, please."

He shoves himself into the hoodie, tousling his wet mop of hair in the process, and takes the pants from you, which he stands robotically to step into. When he sits you wrap five fingers across the top of his flannel-clad thigh and press a short kiss to his cheek.

As if sparked by your touch, he curls himself into you.

You’re quick to receive him; you unlock his hands from where they latch behind your neck, gently, like everything else, and you lean back, back, until your head is hitting the pillow you were lounged up against earlier. His fingers scramble for somewhere to land; you will his weight down onto you, his shoulder and hip to tuck beside yours on the inside of the couch, his free arm and leg to sling across your body and his sweet face in the side of your neck. The water from his hair soaks through your shirt. You don’t care. You feel his breath; your fingertips trace circles along his spine, and your outside hand comes to tangle up with his. Eating will have to wait.

You don’t waste time asking if he wants to talk. If he did, he would’ve started by now.

So you focus on his breathing, and how lucky you are to have it ghosting along your collarbone. He’s gray, then white, then gray, then blue in the light of the TV as his thumb moves across the back of your hand, stiff, like it’s just been freed from paralysis.

You wait for his breath to shake; you know it will.

And he knows you know, because he squeezes your hand in a pulsing rhythm like a heartbeat. He hates this. He hates that you've seen him crumble so many times that you know exactly what he needs.

You say it so softly, again, almost a whisper: "I've got you, my love."

He doesn't want you to say it's okay or let it out or talk to me; this is another thing you know very well. He feels like he's floating away from what little sense of self he has to begin with and it's not okay, and he doesn't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to be told when to cry or not, but he does need reminded that you're here, and you're real, and so is he, and so is this thing that both have; you'll grab his ankles and pull him down out of the air. You always do. You always do.

So he cries anyway.

It's like hearing a foreign language leave his mouth. There's something so assured about Dazai even while he believes he's all smoke and mirrors and seeing—hearing—his voice jump between heaving breaths and cracking sobs has always jarred you in some way. Moreover, now that you're so attuned to the way he breaks, it fills you with a tired anger that you can't place on anything concrete. It's a frustration you're glad to shoulder with him, but a frustration no less. You would set fire to everything you could touch, strangle it all to death with your bare hands, if it guaranteed his peace. But you know he wouldn't want that, not anymore; you quell the rage inside you between strands of his hair, fingerpads combing over his scalp with all that anger channeled into love, pure love. For as terrible and rotten as he's convinced he is, he's truly turned you into something softer than you thought yourself capable of being.

You feel his heart racing double-time against yours; you briefly wish you had no chest, no ribs, no physical form to separate you from him, so that your heart could cradle his, give over to his troubled body the time of the breath yours breathes.

He's all jagged edges right now and you're holding him like he's made of cotton. It makes him worse, momentarily, and he tears his hand away from yours; he knows wrapping around you like this, like a boa constrictor around its prey, will make his arms lose feeling but he does it anyway, like he's worried you'll go up in a cloud of dust if he doesn't hold onto you tight enough. He knows it's probably uncomfortable for you, too, laying back on his knotted fingers while he shoves every piece of himself as close as he can get to you, but you don't say anything, don't even make a sound when he hyperventilates into your shoulder and pushes out pathetic whimpers between his stuttering. He knows his face is twisted into that expression he long ago deemed too ugly to look at in the mirror. He gasps like he's underwater, and you just press your cheek to his temple while you lose track of if the wetness on your shoulder is from his hair or his eyes. It doesn't matter. You love him so fucking much.

He weeps against you with his constraint surrendered, loud but muffled by your shirt, at least until whatever movie was on is over. When he finally lifts his head, your eyes flutter open. You hadn't realized you closed them.

You tilt to look at him; the seam of your shirt collar is imprinted into his cheek. His bangs have dried wildly; you push them away from his eyes which are raw with sorrow, and Dazai's hands unclasp from behind you, settling back to how they first were with one curled up into the couch and the other interlaced with yours. He's devastatingly beautiful. You can't help the ghost of the sad smile you wear; it's because he's so gorgeous, and also you want to let him know you're content to be here—not content with what's upset him, not at all, but content to pick him up and help him haul himself forward. He does not reflect the smile back to you. You don't blame him.

"Let's eat." You leave the please unspoken, but it hangs there anyway.

"It's cold," he complains, still distant, but with a glimmer of a pout you think may be him. He's not getting out of it, though.

You sit him up, keep him close to your side and pick up a bowl; it's indeed cold, but you take a bite anyway, as if to show him it's not so bad. When you hold sliced carrot and broccoli to his lips, he looks at you like you're trying to feed him dirt, but opens his mouth anyway.

And it may as well be medicine going down. Not that he particularly cares for reheated and recooled leftover bibimbap, but your fingers being at the other end of the chopsticks makes it appealing. More than appealing. Delightful, even. He never really understood how things like food, music, or art could be healing until he met you and you doodles silly pictures of him on slow Sunday mornings, sang old love songs to him while you shooed him away from the stove as you cooked dinner, fed him leftovers in your shared home, on your shared couch, surrounded by all the things that were both yours and his, sweatshirts, books, blankets, chopsticks alike.

And he tells you that in his own way.

"Heat it up again for me? Please?"

He speaks the plea this time, and you grin—not sad this time, but wholly, as he relights slowly in front of you. And as already established, you'd do anything for him.

"Mhm."

"I love you," he blurts. Tags it on. You stand, gathering both bowls, still grinning.

"I love you." No question about any of it. You press a kiss to the crown of his head. He unfurls the blanket from where you'd slung it over the back of the couch earlier, picking up the remote to flick through the channels, finally breathing steadily as he waits for you to return from the kitchen. Your kitchen, his kitchen. He hears the microwave hum, in another room, not on another planet. He knows he'll be alright.

[risuola]

MISERABLE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Satoru hated the way he would recognize you always, even if just by the taste of your tears.

cw: angst, husband Gojo, hurt/barely any comfort, brief physical abuse, blood mentioned, verbal abuse mentioned, borderline toxic relationship, general sadness and sorrow — 2,6k words

a/n: the spontaneous pour of my brain, the angstiest parts of it are the most active during the night... could this be tied to too much? idk, maybe

“Do you think we could ever be happy?”

The question cut through the silence of the evening like a knife, reaching your ears and mind in a way that made you hum. Your hand not even for a moment stopped the gentle motion of brushing through the soft hair of a man whose head was resting on top of your lap. The gesture automated and yet still somehow warm, still filled with emotions that over the years remained unspoken.

“Do you think we–, no, I could have done all of this differently?”, Satoru asked again, his tired gaze fixed on the golden ring he kept between his fingers. The band that sealed your love at the altar nearly five years ago. One that you took off for the first time since you vowed in front of him, promising him your heart, body and soul till the end of days.

“I’m not sure if we were meant to be happy,” you told him quietly, keeping your hand occupied by the snowy strands. The words made your throat clench the moment they left your mouth; your voice cracked just slightly at the end of the sentence. You felt your body aching from the intensity of the feelings, like all of your cells were suddenly on fire, your heart bleeding inside your chest as if the knife was stabbed right through it.

“You think so?” His voice stayed low, nearly whisper-like as he was taking in what you said. “Were we supposed to be miserable?”

“I don’t know, Satoru,” you mouthed, not much sound leaving your lips.

Your hand felt light, distressingly so, you hated the sensation. You knew this was how it had to end, you knew that the time would come to part ways with your husband, but nothing could have prepared you for the heaviness of it. You felt it all on your shoulders, weighing you down as if the entire world just collapsed and rested on you. Suddenly you felt like things as trivial as breathing became exhausting, there was not an ounce of certainty in you, not a single drop of the belief that you will be alright without him. Satoru was a part of you, he was like a vital organ without which you felt like you won’t be able to live further. But, at the same time, that very organ seemed to kill you slowly, seeping poison right to your bloodstream, hurting you time after time. A disaster. You two were a disaster.

“I’m really sorry,” he breathed out after few moments of suffocating silence. “You deserve the world that I couldn’t give you.”

“I never wanted the world,” you denied, your head shaking just slightly as you allowed your knuckles to brush against his cheek. “You are my world, Satoru. I never needed anything else. You are all I want, you are everything that my heart loves.”

“And yet, I fucked even that up,” he chuckled. A bitter undertone felt nearly palpable as it echoed in the empty area. Satoru knew it was all him. Hurting you time after time, he never thought of it until it was already said and done and yet, you were always by his side. Every shit he said to you, every word that left his mouth you took and forgave. All he could do was to savor your cries and he hated himself for the way he would recognize you always, even if just by the taste of your tears.

You were an angel, he always thought. You were too good for him, too patient and too forgiving. Even in the heat of an argument, you tried to talk him down from his outbursts. You were the one to hug him tightly to your chest, to press his ear right above your heart even if he stabbed it with his words just a moment before. You showed him nothing but love, and yet that day… Satoru had no idea what possessed him when he clenched his fist during the argument. He feels like he blacked out for a moment, because it’s only after you spit the alarming amount of blood, kneeling on the ground and keeping a strong hold over your stomach, that Gojo realized that he just hit you with the blue infused fist. It felt unreal, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. He felt like his own body betrayed him. Why would he do that?

And then, he was right at your feet, apologizing frantically as you tried to regain your breath, to not vomit, to push the pain away from your thoughts but you just couldn’t. It hurt so much, you felt like all of the organs inside you were crashed after that one, single hit. The taste of metallic covered your tongue, your vision went blurry for a couple of seconds and at first, you couldn’t even hear the repetition of sorrys that was leaving Satoru’s mouth. He was terrified and so lost. Disgusted by his own self, hating the way he lost control over his body and hurt you. Before that, the sight of your tears was something that often kept him up at night. Remorseful thoughts haunted him constantly, but now, he knew that they won’t show up anymore. Now he’ll be seeing your blood, he was certain of it. Now, he’ll be seeing your curled in pain form, gasping for air as the red is gushing from your throat. And he’ll know that he was the reason for it. That it’s him, your husband who should protect you from any harm, who caused your suffering. Even the thought of it felt surreal. Was there any good in him? Or was he just a monster?

But then, you slowly got up. Satoru had no idea how long it took, but you pushed your body up and sat yourself against the wall. You knew him well enough, you knew the state of panic that he was in that very moment and your heart broke at the sudden realization of what’s to come. Inviting him onto your lap, you let your hands wander through his hair, calming him slowly in the silence of your shared home. Then you gave him the ring. Gold, now stained with blood enough to cover the love promise that he had engraved inside the band. The vow that he wasn’t able to keep.

“Please, don’t leave me,” he whispered, knowing it’s futile to ask. You could feel the hot tears dropping from his face onto the skin of your thighs and even though he seemed calm right now, you knew him all too well to know how broken he is, laying there in complete submission to your touch. He wasn’t moving, his gaze was fixed on the jewelry he held in his hand, his eyes studying the I’ll love you forever etched into the metal.

“I don’t want to leave you,” you confessed, still gently caressing the side of his face and his hair. If it was your choice, you’d stay with him till the end of your days. You could withstand the verbal outbursts, the heated arguments – you were a part of them, you had your fair share in the hurtful words, even though you knew how heavily it was bordering toxicity. But that day the line was crossed, and you could tell he wasn’t in the right state of mind when his fist clenched before. For a split second, it wasn’t your Satoru, it wasn’t the love of your life. For that brief moment, it was the strongest sorcerer in the world, the menace, as others call him, a threat. All of your marriage you felt safe near him. The power he possessed he always used to ensure your well-being, you not even once had to fear him because of how gifted he is. He never used his jujutsu against you. Not until that day.

“Then don’t,” a plead. He had no right to ask you to stay, he was all too aware of that.

“I’m scared of you, Satoru…”

You fear him. The sound of these words rang inside Gojo’s head for a good moment, rendering him speechless and you suffocated in the silence. You hated the sentence that just left your mouth, you hated the feeling of frighten that was cursing through your veins. You never felt uneasy next to your husband. Even if it’s right after the argument, you were always certain that if any danger occurred, he’d be the first by your side to shield you from it and he showed that to you many times, protecting you from threats as trivial as you grabbing the hot pan handle. Even in the heat of a fight between you two, he’d be the first to kneel in front of you and kiss your knee if you hit it onto the table. You can speak no words but he’d carry you in his arms from the other side of the city if he knew your feet hurt from walking. But now, how could you feel safe if you know he can be pushed to the point of using his strength against you?

“I…” He began but fell silent as soon as he opened his mouth. How could he even explain what happened to him? How could he reassure you that it won’t ever happen again if he himself wasn’t even sure what made him punch you in the guts? He couldn’t even remember what was the reason for the argument before it occurred. “I don’t know what happened,” he said truthfully. “I feel like I blacked out for a moment, I would never—”

“I couldn’t recognize you for a moment,” you exhaled, closing your eyes. The picture of his face right before the hit flashed against your eyelids. That was the Gojo from the battlefield, not your husband. “But if that happened now, how could I ever be sure it won’t happen again? I don’t want to die by your hand, Satoru, and we both know you are strong enough to kill me in one hit.”

“You’re afraid I’d kill you?” It felt surreal. Was it even happening right now? Satoru’s voice dropped down to a whisper. “Do you think I’d be able to do that…?” He wasn’t sure either.

“I don’t know.”

It was a nightmare. One of those from which Satoru couldn’t wake up, no matter how harshly he would pinch himself. The agonizing weight of reality felt heavy on his body, it hurt physically, it made him want to scream, to cry, to die. What was the point of his life if he couldn’t even keep one person safe? He always prided himself for being a man of his word and yet the promise to love and cherish you till death part you seemed unachievable to him.

“I don’t know what happened. Why my body acted the way it did. But love, please believe me,” he was desperate as he raised from your lap, kneeling in front of you and gently cupping the sides of your face. His touch was almost non-existent, he was scared to put any pressure against your skin but you leaned into his palms. Your fingers found their place around his wrist, smoothing the area softly with your thumb as you looked into the blue of his eyes. There was despair storming inside the ocean of his irises, the depth of fear painting its picture on his features and it hurt you to see him like this. “Please, believe me that I would rather die myself rather than hurt you ever again. There’s nothing I can do now to erase what I did, if I could cut my hand off just to make sure it will never cause you any pain, I’d do that without second thought.”

“We both know it will grow back,” you muttered lightly and he chuckled just barely at the remark. Satoru rested his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses kissed as he allowed himself to close his eyes and you did the same.

“I love you. I can’t go without you, I can’t live without you. You’re everything that I have and I know I have been a shitty husband. We argue a lot, I said so many things that I should never even think of. Fuck, I caused you so much pain… I know I don’t deserve you. I know it’s selfish of me to ask you to stay with me even though I’m the reason for your suffering, but please, please, just give me one last chance.”

“Satoru…”

“Please, let’s change it all, let me fix it,” he was babbling, you could tell how much panic was seeping into the voice that was leaving his mouth. “I’ll change, I will do everything, anything, to make you feel safe. To make you feel how important you are for me, how much I love you.”

 “I know you love me,” you whispered, pressing a kiss onto the heel of his palm.

“Don’t kiss that hand, you should hate it,” he sighed. The feeling of your lips on the hand that caused you pain burned him alive.

“I can’t hate any part of you. Even that hand, I love with all my heart.”

“Then stay. Don’t leave me, please, I beg you. I know I’m a handful, I’m terrible, I’m—”

“I knew you are a handful when I married you,” you cut him. “I knew who I’m saying I do to. Even though we fight so often, you never failed to make me feel safe. With all your power, I was never scared of you.”

“If I could give up that power just so you’d know I’ll never use it against you anymore, I would. And believe me, most of the nights I can’t sleep because the sight of your tears is haunting me and now, I know I won’t ever be able to forgive myself for the way I hit you. The blood, the hurt… God, you bled because of me…”

Feeling unworthy of being at the same level as your face, Satoru lowered his head, aiming to back away from you and rest his forehead at your feet where it should be, but you were quick to grab him by the fabric of his shirt and pull him to your chest. Once again, his mind went blank as the calm sound of your heartbeat drown out the hurricane of thoughts in his head. The warmth of your body enveloped him along with your arms as you wrapped them around his figure and out of habit, his own hands snaked your waist. You had the ability to make the world stop, to erase everything that wasn’t just you and him in the universe. You were what he needed to be able to live. No air and water could keep him alive if it wasn’t for your presence right next to him.

“I’ll stay,” the words left your mouth as a whisper but despite the quiet tone, it sounded confident. You were sure of your decision. You were sure of him, there was a lot more to Satoru Gojo than just that one moment and you realized it while kissing the hand that punched you. It got to you that what you felt wasn’t fear of him, but it was a fear of losing him. “But promise me something.”

“Yes?”

“Not today… But tomorrow, let’s sit and talk. About everything. Let’s clarify the things that we argue about, so we won’t need to anymore.”

“I’d love that. I hate fighting with you. You are all I need in life and yet I’m hurting you so often.”

“So tomorrow. We will talk about it all, okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I promise you. The world on fire won’t stop me from taking the time with you.”

“Good… now, let’s just stay like this.”

“Yeah…”

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Astarion and his s/o getting into a sass competition where Astarion ends up confessing to her by accident and now he's all flustered?

Astarion x Reader

“Can’t you go any faster?”

“I’m not exactly as well versed into taking these off as I am in putting them on, darling.” Astarion quipped at you as he fiddled with the lock on your cuffs.

Being somewhat of an anti-hero liaisons these days, the group had been pinched on some trumped up but completely true & legal charges of petty theft and larceny. Your options were fight, flight, or get arrested when confronted by the guards and charges. And since you couldn’t fight a whole city’s worth of Iron Fists, and running also seemed unplausible as you’d have to come back to the city sometime, you decided to take you lumps and went to jail. Luckily, where there’s a will there’s a way. Or in this case: a vampire with a lockpick up his sleeve.

“Why did you wait to do me last anyway? Just to see me suffer?”

“Well,” Astarion cooed, “it does have a certain visual appeal.”

You clicked your teeth and rolled your eyes. “Could you just hurry up? I’m starting to lose the feeling in my hands. All the blood is rushing out of them.”

“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that.”

“Well, if you want my blood again, you should be more sympathetic to my pain.” You told him. Sighing heavily as one arm was free and Astarion moved on to the other one.

“Don’t you threaten me. Besides, if you won’t give me what I want, I’ll just move on to some other lucky companion in our camp.”

“Ha! Like anyone else would have you.”

Astarion frowned. “I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who would welcome my teeth at their necks. Hundreds. Thousands!”

“Yeah. One blood obsessed drow and…who was the other one you tricked again?” You pulled at the shackles, which jiggled the irons and knocked the lockpick free, but unbroken. The vampire growled at you.

“I tricked you easy enough, didn’t I?”

“Only because I took pity on you.”

“Pity?!”

“Yeah.” You told him. “That poor, sad, puppy dog ‘please feed me’ look was just something I couldn’t say no to.”

Astarion growled again. “That is not how it happened. Besides, if you didn’t like it you wouldn’t keep asking for more.”

“Oh sure. Blame the victim.”

“You are not a victim!” He snapped at you. He seemed a little wounded by that one. Maybe you went a little too far. “Gods.” He cursed under his breath with a frown. “You are lucky I love you so much, otherwise I would just leave you here, chained up, and never bite you again. No matter how much you begged me.”

The lock finally snapped open and your arm fell to the side. You lifted it to rub your wrist but were uncharacteristically silent.

“Would it have been too much to expect a thank you??”

“Did you just say you love me?”

Astarion froze for a moment. A little wide eyed at your question. He seemed to be racking his brain for a moment. Trying to remember the conversation before an ‘Oh. Shit.’ expression came over his face. “What? Oh, that. Figure of speech darling, of course.” He let out a single nervous cough after that and a rushed, “let’s go meet up with the other.” Before he turned on his heels and made a speedy exit.

You rub your wrist one more time as a soft, shy smile came to your lips behind his back. You follow after him and meet up with the others. Waiting just outside the prison for the two of you, as apparently just around the corner was enough of an escape from the mighty Iron Fist.

“Ah! I just love this fresh air.” You exclaim, followed by more comments on how dusty & dank your cell had been, but really just watching Astarion’s shoulders tense.

You spent the rest of the day subversively tormenting Astarion. Making comments on how much you loved the weather, or loved a dress in a window. How much you loved dinner that night. How much you loved getting a good night’s rest that night.

By the time everyone had gone off to their respective tents for the evening, Astarion had apparently had enough and slunk up to yours. “I know what you’re doing. Now stop it!” He hissed.

“But I thought you’d love it.”

“Stop it!” He hissed again. If he could right now, he would blush. You were tempted to let him feed on you for a moment to get the full effect. “I mean it! How would you like it if I threw every verbal misstep in your face? I don’t keep bringing up the time you said Ibis instead of Ignis, now do I??”

It was pretty funny when that bird showed up.

“So, are you upset that you said it and I’m teasing of you, or are you upset that you didn’t mean it and I keep bringing it up?” You honestly didn’t know which answer would be worse at this point. You felt bad you had wounded his pride to the point that he came to talk to you. But you also don’t think you could take it if he told you that he didn’t love you.

Astarion just stood there for a moment, thinking, before he sighed and waved you off. “Just…knock it off ok. I’ve had quite enough today. I’m going to get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turned to walk away and just before he fell out of ear shot you called to him. “Hey Astarion,” he looked back over his shoulder at you, “I love that you could come and talk to me about this.”

He huffed, but you could see the corners of his mouth struggling to keep down. “Oh shut up.”

[harringtonstilinski]

Armageddon It - Eddie Munson (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 6,537 Warnings: fluff, squint super hard for angst, mentions of a jealous chrissy, Requested: no | yes; i'm gonna say yes on this. it's really a challenge i'm doing with @stevesxyellowxsweater! Smut (Minors DNI): no | yes, 18+; oral (f receiving), protected m+f, let me know if i missed anything A/N: Hi, friends! After about 4 or so months of writing, SHE'S FINALLY HERE!! Also, The Upside Down doesn't exist in this, bye! If you like this, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

eddie munson masterlist

eddie munson playlist

“Edward Wayne!!”

A smirk crossed your friend's face, his eyes never leaving the neck of his Sweetheart, his guitar. “Yes?”

Your body stood in the doorway of his room, a boisterous laughter coming from the living room. “You’re in fucking trouble.”

“Why is Wayne laughing?” He won’t lie, it was nice hearing his uncle laughing like he was. Eddie hadn’t heard him laugh like that in a long time.

“Because you’re in fucking trouble.”

Chuckling, he set his guitar down. “Okay, sweets. What’s up?”

“Can you please tell me why the hell everyone at that godforsaken video store has asked me about your hips?” Crossing your arms, you gave him the most seriously stern face you could muster, leaning your weight on one of your legs, an eyebrow raised.

Wayne laughed harder, which made Eddie cackle, his head thrown back. “And how were my hips?”

“Eddie!” you chastised. “What the fuck?” Holding your arms out to the side, you scoffed. “Do you realize what people are insinuating?”

“That we’ve had sex?”

“Hey now!” Wayne said. “Let’s not talk like that.” You heard a small squeak before the front door opened. “I’ll sit on the porch if you wanna have that talk.” He chuckled on his way out.

Sitting on his bed with your back facing Eddie, you sighed and dropped your head into your hands. “Eddie! We can’t have people thinking we’re fucking. It’s not right.”

A sort of sad look crossed Eddie’s features, his eyes casting downward, looking at a random spot on the back of your shirt. “I’m sorry, sweets.”

Sighing again, you removed your hands, turning to bring your leg up on the bed, bending it at the knee. Looking at Eddie with a somber look, you took his features. Bringing up a hand, you cupped his cheek, his eyes casting up to look into yours. “It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting it. It literally took me by surprise.”

“Just so you know,” Eddie said, seriousness in his eyes. “I didn’t start that rumor. It had to have been someone else.”

Thinking it over for a moment, you wracked your brain about who could’ve started the rumor, coming to the conclusion with a sigh, dropping your hand to a hard but soft surface as you closed your eyes. “Fucking Cunningham.”

“Chrissy started that rumor?”

Standing from his bed, you started pacing the length of the mattress, hands in your hair. “Jealous fucking ex is what she is. God, I can’t stand her. We’ve been out of school for, what? Two years?”

“You’ve been out for two, I’ve been out for one.”

“Whatever! Gah- I can’t believe she’d want to spread a rumor like that! Who does she think she is?! Miss fucking Priss, is what she is!” You were ranting so fast and almost way too loud that you didn’t notice Eddie standing in front of you until you felt hands on your shoulders, stopping your pacing.

“Hey. Sweets. Calm down. She’s just jealous. She broke up with me because I was apparently spending more time with you than her, remember?” Eddie said, bringing up his hand to brush some hair behind your ear. “No need to freak out.”

“I’m trying,” you sighed. “It’s just hard because I’ve done nothing to her and she’s just… her.”

“Jealous.”

“Hey, kids!” Wayne called out. “You two hungry? It’s almost dinner time.”

Looking off to the side, you thought about it for a moment, realizing that you haven’t eaten in a while. “Yeah, I could eat.” You looked at Eddie, shrugging before turning to walk back down the hallway to the kitchen where Wayne was now standing. “What’cha cooking up, Wayne?”

“Oh, I was thinking of either some burgers or some tacos,” Wayne answered, looking into the refrigerator.

Lightly gasping, your eyes went wide. “Can I help make whatever? I mean, I can actually make whichever one for you.”

“Oh, darlin-”

“Nope,” you said, stepping up to him, placing a hand on his back. “You do a lot for Eddie.”

Wayne grabbed the pack of ground meat from the fridge, placing it on the counter. “You too, darlin’. Don’t forget that.”

“When I’m here. Let me help. Please? You can kick your feet up, watch some tv, drink a beer or two. Just relax, Wayne, please. For me?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip poking out.

The older Munson man just chuckled, reopening the fridge to grab a beer, tilting it at you with that Munson smirk. “You got it. Make whichever one you want. I’m good with either one of them.” Smiling, you said, “Okay,” as your eyes watched him walk to his chair, kicking the foot rest up and deeply sighing. “Eddie!”

“Yes?”

Jumping at how close his voice was, you turned to face him, hand up at your sternum. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” he quietly laughed. “What’s up, sweets?”

“Hamburgers or tacos?” Not waiting for him to answer, you turned on your heel to the cabinet where you knew the spices were kept, humming when you didn’t see any taco seasoning. “Shit. We need taco seasoning.”

“I was gonna say hamburgers, but tacos works, too,” Eddie said, Wayne holding up his beer to add, “I was gonna say the same thing!”

Grabbing your keys from the small kitchen table, you sighed, “You Munson men. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll go with you. Wayne, care if I go with her?”

“Nope. Just don’t get into trouble,” Wayne replied, eyes glued to the tv that was already on when you had arrived.

“Awesome,” Eddie smiled, turning his head to watch your retreating form move to your car. “Thanks, Wayne.” He quickly walked out of the trailer, calling out your name, your head turning at the sound of his voice. “Let’s take the van. I feel like a giant in your tiny ass car.”

Shaking your head, you snickered, moving around both your car and his van to reach the passenger side door, finding it already open for you, Eddie standing there with his hand out to help you in.

“M’lady.”

“You’re such a dork,” you softly laughed. Once he closed the door and moved around the vehicle, you buckled yourself in, looking at his collection of metal tapes lying everywhere on the van’s floor. When you found one you knew he bought for you, you picked it up and held it up.

“I’m not listening to Pyromania again.”

“It’s not that one. It is Def Leppard, though.”

Eddie sighed, taking the tape from your hand to read the title of the album, looking at you with small distaste. 

“Oh, come on! It has like three of my favorite songs on it!”

“Name them,” he said, turning the case over to look at the track listing on the back.

“Love Bites, Hysteria, and Pour Some Sugar On Me.”

He looked at you for a moment before sighing, “Fuck,” and putting the tape in after ejecting the Dio album he was listening to. Once the songs started to play and you were happy, he backed out of the small front yard to the small bit of road the trailer park provided to drive toward town. “So, I was thinking about something.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Shut up,” he chuckled. “About this rumor. Maybe we should… I don’t know, put it to bed and make it true?”

If you were drinking something, you’d for sure either choke on it or spit it out all over your part of the dashboard. “What?”

“Let’s do it! Let’s make the rumor true.”

“Well, damn, Munson, now every time we hang out, I’m gonna anticipate it.”

“Good,” he said, smirking to himself. He pulled into the parking lot of the local grocery store, the both of you getting out and walking side by side into the store.

As you walked through the aisles, you picked up what you thought you’d need for your meal; taco shells, sour cream, tomatoes to dice up, green onion to chop for garnish and cheese. Once everything was in your arms, you both dropped them onto the conveyor belt at the checkout counter to pay.

Eddie insisted on paying for everything with his ‘business money’, but you told you got it and for him to not worry about it, that it was your treat. When you paid and got your paper bags from the cashier, you both loaded back up in the van and drove back to the Munson trailer.

“Wayne! We’re… back,” you said, looking at Wayne’s sleeping form. You felt Eddie’s chest crash into your back, a hand on your shoulder.

“Sweets, wha–” Eddie started.

“Shut up, Wayne fell asleep.”

Eddie looked at his uncle, seeing that he was indeed sleeping. He walked into the kitchen as quietly as he could, setting the bags down on the counter to take the items out of the bag. Just as you set the bag from your hands on the counter, Eddie had turned toward the fridge, taking the pack of protein from its spot on the cold shelf to set it on the counter.

“If you’re gonna be in here with me while I cook, I need your hair up and out of your face,” you said, taking half of your own hair to secure it with a hair tie you always had on your wrist. After tightening the hair tie, you gave Eddie a stern look as he perched himself onto the counter.

“Alright. Do you have an extra hair tie?” he asked, lacing his fingers together to rest them in between his knees.

“Eddie, you have a million floating around here.”

“Yeah, but none of them are yours.” He gave you a cheeky grin with a wink.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, turning on your heel to walk into the shared bathroom. Right there on the counter was the hair tie you had left a couple of days prior. Sighing exasperatedly, you grabbed it and exited the bathroom, only to be met with Eddie’s hair being tied into a low bun at the nape of his neck, the younger Munson man moving around the stove. “Wha– I was gonna do that!”

“Quiet, love,” he murmured. “Don’t wanna wake Wayne up.” At the mention of his uncle, you both heard a small snore coming from the living room, quiet snickers coming from both of you once you looked at each other.

“Okay,” you said, quietly. “We need to try and be quiet. Which is gonna be… a challenge considering that when you cook ground meat– Eddie!”

As you were trying to explain to him about being quiet, he went ahead and started cooking, the sizzle from the meat growing louder with every passing second.

“It’s okay, sweets. I do this all the time. He’ll wake up when one of two things happen; I wake him up by simply saying it’s ready, or he’ll wake up on his own accord when the noises die out.”

“So, you’ve done this before?” you asked, generously curious.

Eddie looked at you, his eyes softer than what you’ve ever seen. “Every night.”

“Wow,” you whispered. “I never knew that.”

“You always dip out before when I ask about you staying.”

Following your instincts, you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle, your cheek pressed to his back. “That’s amazing of you, Eds. But I like this side of you.”

He turned his head over his shoulder, letting you know that he was still engaged in the conversation. “What side?”

“Domestic,” you replied, slightly smiling. “Super kind, even though I knew that. Always thinking of others, putting them before yourself.”

“And how do you figure that last one?”

“Putting others before yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“You just… put their needs before your own. I can’t describe it. You’re just… not what people say you are.”

“A freak?”

“Well,” you said, moving to stand beside him, your arms still around his waist as his own arm went around your shoulders. “You are a freak, but… they say you’re mean and scary, but you’re just… not. You’re kind and thoughtful. You’re always willing to help those who need it, even if other people can’t see that. You have an amazing heart. You’re helping Wayne out with money, even if I don’t totally agree with it.”

Eddie snickered, neither of you realizing that your soft voices roused Wayne from his small sleep, the man unmoving as he listened in. “Yeah, well, I’ve had help in that department.”

“No, no. You’ve always done that, even before I came along.”

Hugging you tighter to his side, he slightly smiled at you, looking into your beautiful eyes that he always got lost in. “You’ve made me want to be a better person.”

You smiled and looked at the cooking meat in the pan, taking the spatula from his hand, breaking the meat up a little more while flipping and stirring it to make sure all the pink was gone from it. “Tell me more, Eds. This soft side of you is one of my favorite sides you show.”

“What’s the other?” He was more than curious about this turn of conversation.

“Your Dungeon Master side.” You reluctantly removed yourself from his hold to grab the strainer from the lower cabinet, placing it inside the sink before taking the pan from the stove to pour the meat into it. Waiting just a couple of minutes before putting it back into the pan, you gathered the other ingredients for the meal, mixing the seasoning packet with the amount of water it needed.

Eddie leaned against the corner of the counter, crossing his arms, watching you work this time. “You like it when I play Dungeon Master?”

Nodding in response, you placed the meat and seasoning mixture back into the pan, the sizzle sounding through the trailer once more. “Yup. That’s part of your element and I love seeing that. I love seeing–”

“Go to Benny’s with me.”

Looking at him with furrowed brows, you were utterly confused. “Now? Eddie, we’re cook–”

“No, no, not tonight,” he said, shaking his hands. “Saturday. Let me take you–”

“On a date?” you asked, your eyebrows shooting into your hairline. “You wanna take me on a date?”

“Yeah, why not? Let’s start putting that rumor to bed on Saturday.”

Thinking about what he said previously about putting the rumor to bed, your brows softened, a mischievous smile crossing your lips. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

The both of you finished cooking the tacos, as well as cutting the toppings up in sync with each other. It amazed you how well you both danced around each other, almost as if you choreographed it yourself.

Once it was done, you told Wayne it was time to chow down, which he gladly but slowly got up from his chair to sit at the table with Eddie. You opted to perch yourself up on the counter that was closest to the table, being able to engage in their conversation, laughing when they said or did something that you thought was hilarious.

When the three of you were finished eating with absolutely no food left over, you told the Munson men to sit back and relax so that you could clean up, which wasn’t much. Eddie tried to help you dry the dishes, but you just smacked his hand away, telling him to sit his ass down.

Eddie had grabbed himself a beer, as well as another one for Wayne, handing it to him before going into his room, laying down on his bed, his back resting against the wall behind him, watching as you walked in.

Trying to figure out where to sit, you looked around his room, seeing it was a little askew.

“Don’t you think about it,” he said. “It’s organized chaos.”

“But can you find the heavy stuff?” you asked, raising a brow at his silence. “That’s what I thought.” You busied yourself by tidying his room, putting his dirty laundry in a pile to be washed, folding the clean clothes and putting them in his drawers… after folding them up. “Am I gonna have to come over once a week and tidy up for you?”

Eddie chuckled, setting his beer down on the table beside his bed, the contents almost gone before he moved to the edge of his mattress, mimicking your position from earlier. “Come here,” he quietly said, holding a hand out for you.

Taking it, you couldn’t help but feel the sparks shoot through your arm, but you elected to ignore them as he guided you to sit in from him. 

“I just wanted to say thanks,” he said, softly. “For helping make dinner, cleaning up the dishes as well as my room.” He chuckled at his own statement, your own chuckle mingling with his. “You’re really the best person I could’ve ever asked to be a friend.”

“A best friend?” you asked, smiling wide with your brows raised.

“Yeah,” he lightly laughed. “A best friend.”

After that conversation, you and Eddie cuddled on his bed, something you always did after you stayed for dinner, the two of you talking about anything and everything for a couple of hours. At the sound of the shower running, you sighed. 

“I guess that’s my cue,” you whispered, subconsciously drawing random circles on his shirt.

Eddie held you tighter, groaning in protest. “Noooooooooo! Don’t go.”

Laughing, you balled his shirt in your fist, your cheek squishing on his clothed chest.  “I have to! I have to work in the morning.”

“Tell everyone that comes in tomorrow that you're putting the rumor to bed.”

You chuckled a little, trying your best to sit up. “Will do, boss.”

It was Eddie’s turn to reluctantly let you go, the both of you sitting up and getting off the bed. Like a true gentleman, he walked you out of the trailer and to your car. “Thanks for staying for dinner, sweets.”

“I enjoyed it,” you replied, looking at him with a soft smile. You could feel the tension between the two of you, wanting to just plant your lips on his, but knowing you couldn’t. “Well, I, uhh, I guess I should go.”

Eddie groaned in protest, making you giggle.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow after my shift for a little while like always.”

“It’s like you live here.”

“I might as well. We all know that my home life isn’t what I enjoy.” 

You grew up like your other best friend, Steve Harrington. Rich parents, big house, always by yourself. On those days or weeks that your parents were off with Steve’s, you’d both switch off between staying at each other’s houses.

Just like with Steve and Robin, you and him were strictly platonic, if not just as platonic as they were. You liked the relationship you and Steve held. No expectations held between the two of you, other than… being best friends.

“I know, sweets,” Eddie whispered, bringing a hand up to your cheek, holding it in his palm. “Call me and let me know you made it home safe?”

“Eddie–”

“Wayne’ll be fine,” he interrupted. “He’s working nights at the moment, remember?”

Closing your eyes with a squint, you remembered what his shifts were like; a few weeks on day shift, a few weeks on night shift. You felt bad for Wayne’s sleep schedule, the man getting sleep where he could.

As if he sensed his name being mentioned, Wayne walked out of the trailer, lunchbox in hand. “Well, kids, looks like I’m heading off for the night. You two stay out of trouble.”

“Eddie? Getting into trouble? Never,” you joked.

All Eddie could do was give you a deadpan expression. “Oh, ha ha ha. Very funny.” He looked at his uncle, softness in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Wayne. I’ll be fine.”

“Same words, different day,” the older Munson chuckled. “I’ll see ya in the morning, boy.”

Eddie just smiled and patted his uncle on the shoulder, watching as he got into his rundown car and drove off to work. He was always worried about his uncle and that shitbox he drove, but at least it got him from Point A to Point B. Sighing, Eddie looked back down at you, seeing the somber look on your face.

“He’s gonna be okay,” you softly said. “He’ll get there fine.”

“I know,” he sighed, again, wrapping his arms around you. “I just worry.”

Releasing a deep breath as you wrapped your arms around his middle and pressed your face into his chest, you responded, “It’s okay to worry, Eds,” before moving your head to the side, your cheek pressing where your nose just was. “But you’re gonna worry yourself to death. He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.”

Perching your chin on his sternum, you looked up at him as he looked down at you. “I know. Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Being here for us. He’s not very good with words, but I know he appreciates it.”

“Who knows, maybe one day I’ll move in and cook dinner for you two all the time, and make sure your laundry is kept up.” You were joking, but something in Eddie’s mind told him that didn’t sound like a bad idea. “Listen, I would love to stay and keep you company, but unfortunately, my parents are home for the next few days. They’d be pissed if I wasn’t home to greet them.”

Eddie raised a brow at you. “Can I level with you?”

“Sure.”

“They wouldn’t be pissed, and I think… you’re just telling yourself that… to try and make yourself feel better.”

He had a good point. Steve had said the same thing about his own parents at one point when you all were at a party together.

“Okay, fine,” you groaned. “I really don’t wanna go home.”

“Then don’t. Come back inside. Let’s put–”

“I swear, if you say let’s put the rumor to bed one more time, I’m gonna pluck every single strand of hair from your hair.”

Eddie chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down your back. “I was gonna say, rude ass, let’s put on a movie… and if we happen to put the rumor to bed, we put the rumor to bed.”

“Edward Wayne, you might just be a genius,” you smiled. You couldn’t deny that you had a small crush on him. I mean, who wouldn’t! Everyone in town sees him as a freak, but to you… he’s just Eddie. Sweet, fun-loving, guitar playing Eddie who adores his uncle and Hellfire friends more than anything.

You were already feeling a little tired, so agreeing to Eddie’s offer of watching a movie seemed like the next best thing. As you walked back into the trailer, you set your stuff back down on the small kitchen table before walking to the couch, plopping yourself down while releasing a deep breath before yawning, “What did you want to watch?”

“None of that rom-com shit you like to watch,” he chuckled.

“Well, none of that horror shit you like to watch,” you retorted, smiling at the end to show him that you were joking.

He chuckled, sitting down next to you after he popped a movie into the player, the remote in his hand. Putting his arm around the back of the couch, he smirked, the trailers playing on the screen, the brightness of the screen lighting up his features.

Looking from him back to the tv, you groaned, a small bit of fear crossing your features. “Eddie. I hate this movie. Why would you pick this movie?”

“What’s wrong with this movie?” he asked, tapping his heels on the floor, his legs having been spread since he sat down.

“It’s fucking creepy!” you whined. “And I feel bad for the little piggie!”

“Well, I, for one, like the Horned King.”

“Of course you would. The Black Cauldron is right up your freaking alley.” Crossing your arms, you scrunch your brows, wallowing in your discomfort causing Eddie to lightly chuckle to himself.

Not ten minutes into the film, and you were burying your face into Eddie’s shoulder, your hands up by your cheek. “Oh, fuck!” you exclaimed. This made Eddie chuckle, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, making your face go from his shoulder to his chest, your eyes peeking out from between your fingers. 

“Turn it off, turn it off,” you whimpered as the Horned King spoke on screen.

“How I’ve thirsted to be a god,” the Horned King said.

“You’re fucking creepy as shit, man! You’re no god! You’re just a devil with horns!”

Laughing, Eddie tightened his grip on your shoulders. “That’s the point, babe.” He didn’t mean to use the nickname, it just slipped out. Not that it didn’t feel good rolling off of his tongue.

You looked at him, the movie long forgotten in your mind as you looked at his profile. Bringing your hand up to cup his cheek, you moved his head to cast his eyes down at you, which he did after seeing the screen from the corner of his eyes. “Call me that again,” you whispered.

“What? Babe?” he asked just as quietly.

Nodding, you sat up a little straighter. “I think I’d rather put that rumor to bed now.”

“It’s like you read my mind, sweets.” Without missing a beat, Eddie leaned his head down just as you were sitting up a little more, your lips connecting in a searing kiss that had fireworks and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

The kiss was everything you had dreamed it would be as you moved to straddle his hips, your hands cupping his cheeks as Eddie’s hands went to your hips. Capturing his bottom lip between yours, you let out  a soft breath before pulling back.

At the same time you moved your hands to his neck, Eddie’s hands moved from your hips to your cheeks, his big palms cupping your face as your foreheads pressed together. “Damn, sweets,” Eddie breathed. “You know how long I’ve been thinking about that?”

“Forever?” you asked, softly. Lightly rubbing your thumbs on his neck, you pulled back just a little to look into his chocolate brown eyes. “Because I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time.”

“Dreaming about what?”

Well, you can’t turn back now as you decided to just lay it all out on the table. “About you being slotted between my legs, your cock buried so deep inside of me that I could cum just from that alone. I’ve dreamt about your face between my thighs–” 

You felt yourself being lifted from the couch, your legs going around Eddie’s waist as the man in question walked towards his bedroom, making sure the door was locked beforehand as you continued, “- as your tongue and fingers work on my wet, aching core to the point where I have push your face away from how sensitive you made me.”

Eddie groaned as he kicked his bedroom door shut, laying you down on the bed to hover over you. “Keep going, princess.”

“I’ve dreamt of you fucking me from behind, me riding you, us laying on our sides facing each other, you buried to the hilt inside of me. Even me laying on my stomach with you hovering over me, making me feel so fucking good.”

“Shit,” Eddie whispered, working on the buttons of your jeans while his lips worked on your neck.

Quietly gasping at the feeling of his hand working its way down the front of your jeans, you kept up with your words. “I’ve dreamt about making you feel good, Eddie. My mouth around your tip, hollowing my cheeks as I take all that I can into my mouth, wrapping my hand around what I can’t fit - shit.”

Your words were cut off by the feel of Eddie’s finger sliding through your already wet folds, teasing your entrance. “So wet for me,” he muttered against your neck. “You always this wet when you think about me, princess?”

Moaning, you answered, “Yes. Always.” Burying your head into the mattress beneath your head, you moaned again, feeling a rush of pleasure surging through you at the feel of his slender digit finally making contact with your aching bud. Needing something to hold on to for the moment, you reached your hand up, lightly grasping Eddie’s curly brown tendrils. 

“Eddie,” you breathed. “Need you.”

“Need me where, princess?”

“Mouth. Core. Now.”

A light chuckle sounded from Eddie before a sad whimper through the air from you at the removal of his touch. Before you could protest, he placed a kiss to your lips, working on the button and zipper of your jeans. “Oh, don’t worry, princess. I’m getting there.”

Feeling his body being removed from your own, you looked at him, a pout on your lips as he sat up straight, taking your jeans with him. Eddie looked at you, a smirk on his face. “Don’t worry, m’lady. I’m getting there.”

A sigh fell from your lips as you watched him remove your panties from your hips, dropping them to the floor with your jeans with a soft thud. Gliding his hands up your calves to your knees, you closed your eyes, softly moaning with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

The next sensation had you gasping and looking down, seeing nothing but the top of Eddie’s glorious hair as he started his feast on your core. “Fuck, Eddie,” you whispered.

He leaned back just a tad to look up at you as he worked his magical tongue over your sensitive bud. Pulling off of your core for just a second, he brought his fingers to where his mouth was, softly working his fingers over your core to continue the sensation his tongue had brought. “You like that, babe?”

Nodding, you hummed your agreement, bringing a hand to his hair to thread your fingers through them softly. “Yes,” you whispered. 

Eddie leaned his head against your inner thigh, smiling up at you softly as he inserted one finger into your entrance. “Ready for your fantasy to be brought to life?”

“Fuck yes, Eddie, please,” you groaned before he chuckled. 

Without saying another word, he brought his mouth down on your clit, gently sucking on the bud as he worked his finger in and out of you at a delicious pace. Halting his sucking for just a moment, he watched himself as he brought another finger to your entrance, inserting that finger into you as well, your moans like music to his ears.

No words were exchanged as he worked his fingers in and out of your core and his tongue and mouth on your clit, groans coming from both of you; your groans and moans of pleasure, his groans at your sounds.

“Fuck, Eddie, I’m gonna cum,” you said, using your free hand to grab at his pillow. He saw that and didn’t like it, so instead, he adjusted himself before reaching for your hand that was on his head and laced your fingers with his as you brought your free hand down to his head.

Your breaths quickened as Eddie worked his absolute magic, working you to your release. With your head digging into the pillows, you let out a loud moan as your climax hit. While it felt glorious, you wanted to see Eddie’s face and the smug grin that you were sure he was wearing.

When you looked down, you smiled and chuckled, seeing that exact look on his face. “Enjoy that, babe?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled. “I think you’ve got me tongue drunk.”

Chuckling, he placed a kiss to the top of your clit before moving his lips back up your body, taking your shirt with him. As he brought it up over your head, Eddie lifted your arms, holding your wrists in place as he looked down at your breasts, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra.

“Take it off,” you whispered, watching him push it up to reveal your skin to him, his eyes having landed on your perky nipples. Before you could say or even think of any other words to say, a moan escaped your throat, your head digging back into the pillows at the feeling of Eddie’s mouth around your nipple. “Eddie!”

With a soft pop, he released your perky bud, looking you dead in the eyes. “How do you want me?” he asked, reaching towards his jeans button and zipper, the latter sounding as he unzipped his pants, pushing them down his legs the best he could.

“Inside. Now. I can’t wait any longer. I need you, Eds.”

“Shit, babe,” he muttered, standing to rid himself of his clothes and to retrieve a condom. He started to climb back up his bed to hover over you at the same time you rid yourself of your shirt. Lining himself up after rolling the condom down his shaft, he looked at you. “Ready?”

“More than ready.”

He nodded slightly, looking back down at your entrance to guide himself to your aching core. As soon as the tip of his cock touched your pussy, it was game over. You both moaned at the feeling of him inserting himself.

You gasped and looked down at where the two of you were connected as soon as he buried to the hilt as he groaned in pure pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he muttered. “I’m not even sure I’ll last that long.”

“I don’t care if you last the next four milliseconds,” you said. “I love the way you feel me up.”

With that, Eddie slowly pulled out before all but slamming back into you before doing it again… and again and again and again and again causing you to be a writhing mess under him. Eddie did all he could to hold himself above you, his arm muscles growing the tiniest bit weak.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You feel so good, I might cum in the next three pumps.”

“Fuuu–” Your words were cut off with a small yelp at Eddie’s fingers rubbing your clit, your walls starting to flutter around him. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum! Don’t stop!”

And he didn’t. He didn’t stop rubbing at your clit until you came around his cock, and he in the condom. Eddie didn’t move for a good minute or two, panting above you. “Shit, babe.”

When he pulled out to dispose of the condom, the both of you hissed, your core feeling like he fucked you absolutely raw. “Don’t move,” Eddie whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, you watched as his form retreated from the room, calling out Wayne’s name just to be sure he didn’t come back home early. When neither of you heard his voice, Eddie looked at you and gave you a curt nod before exiting his bedroom, a small laugh playing on your lips.

As you heard the water in the bathroom running, you sighed and closed your eyes, content with how things were playing when an overwhelming thought crossed your mind; what did this mean for the two of you? Were you two together; like boyfriend and girlfriend, or were you two just now friends with benefits?

Those thoughts scared you, as did Eddie when he came into the room, a warm wash cloth in hand. “Spread ‘em,” he said, softly. You did as he asked, gasping at the feeling of him cleaning you up.

Once the cloth was discarded, he crawled up the bed to lay beside you with a smile on his face, but when he looked at the expression on your face, his smile immediately died. “babe, what’s wrong?”

“Just–” you sighed. “What are we now?” Looking at him, you couldn’t help but feel bad at bringing this up right after he fucked you into oblivion. “I just– I wanna be with you, Eddie, but that stupid, annoying voice in the back of my head is saying that you don’t want to be with me, too, which I know wouldn’t be the case if you just fucked me like a damn god.”

Eddie chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “babe, I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Cupping your cheek, he continued his words. “When I saw you, I said to myself, ‘damn, I want this girl. She’s perfect, even with her nose stuck in a book.’”

Laughing, you covered his hand with yours, looking into his eyes with all the adoration in the world. “You still want me even though I still have my nose books?”

With a soft smile, he replied, “Always.”

~~~

As you walked into Family Video with Eddie a few weeks later, you spotted Chrissy in the rom-com section of the store, her head tilting up from looking at the second shelf. When her eyes locked with yours, she rolled hers and looked back down for a moment before casting her eyes upward, looking at you and Eddie once more.

Eddie saw this and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing your temple before walking over to the horror section, which just so happened to be right behind the rom-com section.

As Chrissy turned to look at the shelves behind her, what she saw made her let out a deep, annoyed breath; you and Eddie were locking lips, not in a high school makeout session, but more of a sweet kiss.

The two of you only broke apart once you heard a throat being cleared. “Can you two please move this somewhere else?” Robin whispered. “You’re going to scare away our customers.”

“Remember that rumor from a few weeks ago about Eddie and I hooking up?” you asked, to which Robin nodded. “Well, Chrissy started that rumor, so Eddie and I put it to bed and… well, now we’re together!”

“Nice, but please, keep it to a minimum,” she asked, turning to walk back to the front counter.

Smiling, you shook your head and turned to look at the selection of tapes in front of you.

“Listen, I know horror isn’t your thing, but I brought you over here to just kiss you in front of Chrissy,” Eddie said, softly.

“So, does this mean I get to go look at comedies now?” you asked, looking up at your boyfriend with a smile on your face. 

Chuckling, he said, “Sure thing, babe.”

Walking away, you groaned, “God, I love it when you call me that.”

As Eddie walked behind you to the comedy section, he started humming one of your newest favorites songs off of Def Leppard’s Hysteria album. “Gimme all of you lovin’, Gimme all that you got, Ev’ry bit of you lovin’, Never want it to stop, Yeah but are you gettin’ it? Armageddon it! Ooh, really gettin’ it? Yes, Armageddon it!”

Hearing Eddie humming that song had you bursting out in laughter, head tilted back. The second, third, and even fourth time the two of you had rolled around in the sheets, that particular song played. Every. Single. Time.

So, Eddie being Eddie, hummed or sang it every time he wanted take in that particular activity, and you would always respond with a lyric from the song, just like you did now.

“Yes, Armageddon it!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: idk how i feel about writing for a non-henderson!reader, lol. i'm so used to writing henderson!reader, lol

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on August 23, 2024

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Finally finished the first part of gai’s 8 gates coma and how kakashi dealt with it rewrite people have been requesting. [tw blood, injury, coma, death discussions, grief]

Kurenai: Kakashi Kks: Ah. Kurenai and...baby, what’s up? Kurenai: You mind if I come in a moment? Kks: Uhhhhh I-

Kks: So what did you need to speak about? Did something happen? K: No, Nothing’s happened. You haven’t gotten to properly see and bond with her yet. Here Kks: You know I’m not fond of kids. K: That’s why I didn’t ask. Hold your arms out. Ok, now, don’t look absolutely petrified.

Kks: She’s ok, I guess [YELP] Oi! Don’t pinch me while I’m holding your baby! K: You wouldn’t drop her. Asuma would haunt you forever! Kks: Terrifying thought, Mirai.... How are you feeling? K: Exhausted. Do you really want to hear how horrifying having a baby is? Kks: No, please don’t tell me.

K: I came over to check on you as well. Any news? Kks: No. He’s still the same. K: Is that why it looks like this in here? Kks: ...Yeah. Doctor said he may never wake up. Since we’re eachother’s medical contacts, Tsunade told me I had to prepare to make hard decisions should it come to that.

Kks: With the council breathing down my neck over a job I don’t want, I had... A bit of an outburst. K: I don’t even blame you. That’s... That they expect you to carry on like normal. Still grieving. The person you love most is gone. But you’re still here. Don’t let them just dust you off and move on again. I’ll always have your back. Kks: You and Asuma always did. Even when I wasn’t grateful for it.

Kks: I can’t tell if they just don’t care or didn’t realize, Gai’s the one who held me together all these years. Only reason I’m still here at all is because of him. I don’t think tenzou, the elders, or the village are prepared for what’ll become of me if I lose him. So, I don’t care anymore. Let them be mad. I won’t give up on him. K: You should talk to him. Kks: huh K: Talk about anything! I’m sure the sound of your voice will help him find his way back. Especially if you sound sad, Kks: uuh

K: I can hear it now, “My eternal rival is sad? Not on my watch!“ Kks: Pretty accurate impression. K: There’s been lots of source material! Kks: Maaa, Your mom’s a huge dork K: Oi! [kakashi chuckles]

K: He’ll be so upset he missed her birth Kks: Oh, devastated. I can’t wait to see the look on Gai’s face, Mirai, when I tell him /I/ held you first! When he wakes up

Kks: Hey, Gai. Kurenai said i should talk to you.

Kks: Feels weird. Most of the people I’m used to talking to like this are all... Dead.

It’s so eerie how silent you’ve been for so long. you’re not even this quiet when you sleep. Your kids come everyday to see you. Naruto and sakura when they can. Lots of others. I’ve been telling them embarrassing  stories from when we were kids since you keep making them wait. Do you remember when I came over while you and Dai were making supper

Dai: Kakashi! Good to see you, my boy! Kks: Id Gai home? Dai: He’s helping with supper! Go on, inside, you’re always welcome! Kks: Ok Dai: Atta boy Kks: Hey, G- !? ummm? Gai: OH!! Rival!! Kks:  Is that a lid?! Gai: Correct!! It stops me from crying while cutting onions! A win for me!!

Kks: Against.... the onions? Gai: Yep! KKs:[snicker] Gai: Laugh all you want! Not everyone can comprehend innovation. Kks: Whatever. You forgot this at the training grounds. I know it’s yours there’s a turtle on it. Gai: See! You’re already tearing up! Kks: Am not Gai: Also, thankyou so much! Kks: Bye, I’m leaving. Gai: Could it be? You’re scared I can cut much faster than you! Kks: I am not scared. Gai: Good, I think we have another lid! Kks: YOU-!

Dai: Great to see growing boys with such a hunger! I’ll never have to prep onions again! Kks: I think about that everytime I chop onions now. You’ve altered my brain with all the ridiculous things you’ve done. Can’t even look at the toys you’ve gotten the dogs without getting emotional

Kks: Just knowing you’re here still, I can barely function. It’s pretty pathetic... Your hair’s getting long. Turning into your dad.

[gai’s heartbeat] Kks: Gai

[gais heartbeat continues]

[gai’s heartbeat continues] Kks: If anything should happen to me, you’ll rush over, right? Gai: Damn right, I will. Dont you worry about that.

[Gai’s heartbeat]

Kks: I miss you

[msmk11]

Everything to Everyone

James Potter x fem!reader

WC: tbh I don’t know, I just raw-dogged this in the app

CW: ANGST, HURT-COMFORT, panic attack, r is very sad and doesn’t take care of herself

Summary: you can’t keep doing this

A/n: Don’t know what this is; might be garbage; but this is just a reflection of my brain and my desperate need for someone like to james to comfort me rn; I need to be someone’s everything 😭

<>

It’s all too much, trying to be everything for everyone all of the time. It consumes you- the need to help others, to serve them in any way possible. To be their shoulder to cry on. The arms to hold them. The voice cheering them on. The hands to build them castles in the sky.

Perhaps it’s founded in your insatiable hunger to be well-liked, loved even.

Maybe it’s rooted in your fear that everyone will leave you, and that maybe maybe, if you try hard enough, they won’t.

Regardless of its cause, your involuntary obligation to others has pushed you to the edge, leaving you broken and exhausted. You want to cry out for help, for someone to notice, but they don’t. It’s not their fault. You know it isn’t. They can’t read your mind for goodness sake. But still, you wish they’d notice. To stop and think about you for a moment.

Today is no different, your list of promises to others longer than the one to yourself. Although it’s a Saturday, your day is jam packed with plans. First, you’ve promised Peter that you’ll make a quick trip with him to Hogsmeade this morning to pick up fire whiskey for the party tonight. After that you’re due for tea with Mary at Madame Pudifoots before you have to rush back to Hogwarts to meet Remus and Lily for a study session in the library. And fuck- at some point you’ll have to stitch up a hole in Marlene’s jersey and braid Sirius’ hair for the game. And the game. You’ve promised James, your lovely boyfriend and captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, that you’ll be there. He needs his “lucky charm.”

You’re down in the common room at 10 on the nose, sleep still heavy on your eyes despite the time. Peter ambles down the stairs a few minutes later, his big jacket wrapped tightly around him.

The cold air outside is bitter on your nose and burns your cheeks. You bundle your face further into the collar of your coat and wish you would’ve worn a scarf. As you walk, Peter yaps on to you about the girl from his Divination class that he has a crush on. You’re enthusiastic that he has a crush, and that he feels comfortable enough to share it with you, but your heart hangs heavy in your chest regardless. You can’t quite muster up the genuine smile you usually give to everyone, and instead settle for a dim but encouraging one.

After you triple check that Peter can carry all of the fire whiskey back to the castle, you trudge across the way to Madame Pudifoots. Mary is already nestled into a corner when you arrive and she waves brightly at you. While the warmth of the shop and your friend is welcome, the thick perfume in the air and the sweet array of biscuits and cookies makes your head ache and stomach churn. Much like Peter, the brunette does most of the talking, catching you up on gossip around the castle. You give a lot of dramatic gasps, wide eyes, and giggles, but they’re as fake as the flowers on the table before you.

By the time you arrive to the library with what feels like a whole ton of books slung over your shoulder, you think you could drop dead from exhaustion. You find Lily and Remus in a heated discussion about some charms theory and wonder if they’d even notice if you slipped out. Of course, Lily catches your eye in the next second and waves you over. She quickly brings you into the debate, and you give the redhead your two cents. Your opinion, it seems, sets off a whole other conversation. Luckily, this time, you can just tune them out, instead focusing on the words of the book before you. Although now that you’re looking at it, all of the words seem to be swimming together in a blurry mess. And, is that a wet spot on the page? Are you crying? You reach up and, sure enough, another hot tear trails down your face. Panicked, you bend down under the guise of tying your shoe and wipe them away quickly. Remus and Lily can’t see you crack. They can’t.

You know that it’s all really getting to you when Sirius lets out more than one yelp as you do his hair. He complains that you’re going to pull it all out, and perhaps he isn’t wrong. You loosen your grip slightly but wince when you brush over one of the fresh cuts on your hands from sewing up Marlene’s jersey. The bandaid covers the cut, but doesn’t dull the slight throbbing pain in your palm. The pain and Sirius’ whining makes you want to yell at him and tell him to do it himself. But you don’t, and instead stay quiet. When his hair is finished, you peck his forehead in apology and boost his vanity.

“Oi, Black! Trying to steal my girl, are you?”

You nearly start bawling on the spot at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. Relief and calm wash over you as you feel his strong arms wrap around you. Instinctively, you lean back into his chest and sigh, closing your eyes.

You’re certain that Sirius and James are bantering back and forth some more but you tune them out in favor of enjoying the vibrations of your boyfriend’s voice through his chest. It’s pleasant enough that you think you could fall asleep.

You’re only startled out of your stupor when James’ soft lips press gentle kisses to each of your eyelids. Your eyes flutter open and you smile at him softly.

“Hi angel,” he greets, pecking your lips.

You return the kiss eagerly and James chuckles.

“Ready for the game tonight?”

You’d forgotten about the game momentarily, but now it comes rushing back. The thought of having to do anything else besides just lay in your boyfriend’s arms makes you want to cry. You swallow the lump in your throat, “of course, Jamie. And I’ll have your jersey on like usual.”

He gives you another quick peck, “my lucky charm.”

And then he’s moving away from you, far too fast for your taste, and you nearly whine. He collects his water and broom and turns back to you with a grin.

“See you at the game, love.”

You only whisper out a goodbye before he’s gone.

The game has been going on for far too long and you’re beginning to lose all feeling in your extremities. Like usual, James is playing great. And you’re proud of him, you really are. But you don’t want to be here anymore. You just want to lay in your bed and close off the world, rotting away in a puddle of self-induced misery.

But this fact in itself makes you feel worse than you already do. The guilt of it all- of being fake, insecure, and unsupportive- is eating you alive. Your friends deserve better. James deserves better.

It’s too much, too much, too much. And you feel like you’re suffocating.

So you’re beyond relieved when Gryffindor catches the snitch and you can leave. Though you normally stay to congratulate James, you don’t have it in you to do it. You figure you’ll see him later, so you rush back to the castle, trying to escape the notice of your friends.

While your bed calls to you most, living in a dorm doesn’t promise any privacy. So you go to the only place you know will- the room of requirement.

It accommodates you enough. The room has shifted into a remarkable replica of your bedroom back home. You collapse onto the bed instantly and your head barely hits the pillow before the sobs you’ve choked back all day finally escape you.

It’s like a dam breaking loose, a flood of emotions overcoming you. Sadness smashes into you like waves, guilt grips your throat tightly, choking you, anger heats your face, and self-loathing broils in your stomach. You can’t, can’t, can’t, can’t, can’t.

Why, why, why, why, why?

You’re so tired of giving, giving, giving. Being everything to everyone and nothing to yourself. Your body is a storm of emotions but your heart is the eye of the hurricane- silent and hollow.

You curl in on yourself, grabbing onto your legs tightly, trying to grip any sense of reality you have left. But your body shakes and your hands slip. It does little to ground you and you’re lost in another dimension, another reality. You can’t breathe, nothing feels real, and the world feels like it’s ending.

Nothing, nothing, nothing, everything, everything, everything.

“Angel, you gotta breathe for me.”

A voice breaks through your fog but you can’t focus in on what it’s saying.

“Baby, my love, look at me. You gotta take a breath.”

Through your shaking and tears you barely make out James’ figure. And when your eyes clear a little you see his eyes. It’s the first real thing you sense again, and you grasp onto it desperately. His hazel eyes stare at you, so calmly, and you get lost in them.

“Angel can you take a deep breath?”

You try to breathe but fail, only spluttering out short, shallow breaths.

“Not quite, my love. Here, match my breathing.”

James grabs your hand and puts it on his chest. You feel him breathe in deeply and hear him blow air past his lips.

“Like this.”

Still shaking aggressively, you try to inhale. Your breath is harsh and unstable, but at least longer and deeper. You purse your lips and blow, just like James does.

“That’s my girl. You’re doing it.”

You continue to breathe in and out. Each time, your breath slowly gets better. Stronger.

“Good, good. Can you tell me what happened?”

You try to think about all that’s happened and your breathing picks back up again. Tears prick at your eyes and you shake your head.

“No, no, no. It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m sorry, we won’t talk about it.”

Your body trembles and you nod appreciatively.

“Do you want a hug?”

“Y-yeah.”

You’re too weak to move towards him, so James reaches out and draws you into his lap. You bury your face in his chest and grip onto his jersey sleeves tightly. His hands rub soothing circles on your back, soft, slow, and repetitive. He intermittently places kisses to your hair, mumbling words of praise and encouragement in between.

The world starts to come back to you.

The soft sounds of James’ breathing and the whoosh of your shirt material under his hand.

His smell, a mixture of cologne and sweat.

His hot breath on your ear as he whispers to you.

His red jersey smushed against your face.

The remnants of your salty tears on your lips.

“I- I can’t keep doing this,” you mumble out. It’s barely audible, your voice hoarse from your meltdown.

“What’d you say, angel?”

“I can’t keep doing this, Jamie.”

He pulls you away from his chest and looks deeply into your eyes, his own so filled with concern.

“You can’t keep doing what?”

“Being everything to everyone all of the time. I- I can’t. It’s too much. I give and help and say yes when I can’t. But, but I can’t do it anymore.”

“Oh, my love,” James sighs, hugging you impossibly tighter, “you don’t have to, not anymore. You don’t have to be anything to anyone besides yourself. They’ll love you regardless. I promise.”

“But what if they don’t?” You whisper, your voice thick with tears.

“I’ll love you regardless. You’re my light, my love, my life just because you’re you.”

He pauses thoughtfully.

“You don’t need to be everything to everyone when you’re already everything to me. And hopefully soon, you can be everything to yourself.”

[soft4gguk]

to build a home | chapter fifteen

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 12.2k

Warnings: oof. let me keep it brief so i don’t spoil too much! it’s angsty. a looooong walk down memory lane. reminiscing. its kinda sad. but lucy’s holds oc through it all! bathroom quickie lol. unprotected sex (do better ok). a lil choking. a lil spanking. jk being an ass man!!!!! team mingyus u get to see ur boy!!! big gasp towards the end. 

Author’s note:  oh, boy! what have i DONE? lol. i’m not gonna say much. only that i love y’all with all my heart and i truly cannot wait to book club the fuck out of this chappie. sending x’s & o’s your way, always!!!!! <33333

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Fifteen

In the forty minutes you sleep, you manage to dream. It’s soft, tender and blue. It’s the ocean and Jungkook’s face, the sand on your toes, on your hands, falling from your fingers and getting caught in the wind, some landing on your face. He calls your name, beckoning you over, smile inviting as he walks backwards into the vastness of the sea. You smile, on your feet in no time before you’re running towards him, feet splashing salty water all over as you join him. You’re in his arms the second you’re close enough to him, legs wrapped around his waist as he lets his body fall into the water, deep, blue, your body never letting go of his. 

Your eyes open gently, head on his chest in the same position you’d fallen asleep in. Soori’s babbles coming from the baby monitor sound muffled as you incorporate yourself back into consciousness. Jungkook’s body is warm against the palm of your hand, breath steady as his chest rises and falls. You look up at him, not ready to leave his side, not ready to do what your brain demands of you the moment you start slipping into wakefulness. You close your eyes, snuggle your head in his chest once more, arm wrapping around him as you pull him closer to you ever so gently. He reciprocates your actions in his sleep, arm wrapping tighter around you as his head sinks further into the pillows. Soori’s not crying, you could probably stay like this for twenty more minutes, wrapped in his arms, closing your eyes and letting your mind and body be consumed with him so you don’t have to think. To really think. 

But you know it’s no use. You know that it’s over, whether you grant yourself the thirty minutes or not. It makes your heart ache, too weak to feel anger anymore. Too weak to even protest and try to put up a fight. You feel tears well up in the corner of yours eyes, and if you let them fall now, they won’t be able to stop. You pull away from him, your movements gentle as to not wake him up. You feel the bed move, making you stop in your tracks and glancing back to make sure he’s not awake. He simply lays on his side, snuggling himself into a pillow, his breathing letting you know that he’s still in deep sleep. You let yourself look at him, taking in his face, his body. He’s so beautiful it hurts. He’s so beautiful your heart begins to regain its strength some, becoming aware of him, swimming through the mud, about to beg you to keep going. But your brain is faster as you close your eyes, turning around and heading for the door. God, it hurts. It hurts to wake up, it hurts to walk. It hurts to feel him all over your body, the traces of the night you just shared still taking over your senses. His smell, his touch, the exhaustion that takes over you that borders as sweet because your body remains in that fucked out bliss only he knows how to put you in. 

The most reasonable part of you begs you to be strong. 

The most tender part of you begs you to turn back around.

You leave his room. 

You’re basically on your tiptoes, closing the door behind you gently, abstaining from making any noise. You think you manage pretty well, chanting victory a little too soon as you turn around and pretty much jump in place, hand coming to your mouth as you let out a yelp at the sight of Lucy standing in the hallway. 

“Good morning,” she says, jutting her hip out and tapping her feet on the ground as she crosses her arms in front of her body. 

“You scared the living shit out of me,” you whisper yell at her. 

“Of course I did, because you just got caught.”

You sigh, admitting defeat. “Come get Soori with me. She’s awake.”

“Will you explain?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she says, opening the door to your room. “Put some pants on first. And panties.”

“Shit,” you say, looking back at Jungkook’s room. 

“No use now. He’s got himself a souvenir.”

“Don’t be witty right now,” you tell her, rummaging through your bags to find a pair of pants. And panties. 

“___, you were bawling your eyes out last night. I was literally scared you’d put yourself through dehydration or something. So imagine my surprise when Jimin wakes me up in the middle of the night to tell me that it sounded like someone was doing construction work inside of Jungkook’s room.” 

You bring your hand to your mouth, eyes widening in surprise at her words. “Oh my God.”

“Relax. He went to get a glass of water, we couldn’t hear anything. I’m sure nobody did.”

“Thank God,” you sigh.

“That is not the point. What is going on, ___?”

“It’s a long story,” she’s about to protest, “I’ll tell you over breakfast. Let’s get Soori first, though.”

She lets out a sigh of relief. “Let’s.”

~

And so you begin the recount of events. 

As you get Soori out of bed, you begin to tell her about that night, omitting any explicit details, of course. You tell her how you told him you loved him, tell her about his silence, about the way you dismissed your words in fear he wouldn’t reciprocate them. She passes you one of Soori’s sundresses, a cute black and white polka dotted one. 

“And what happened then?” She asks, rummaging through the suitcase Jungkook had packed for her and looking for a bow to match. 

“He didn’t say it back.”

“Oh,” she says, face falling even though she knew that much would be true. 

“Yeah. I guess at first I was just trying for it not to… hurt as much as it did. Sunday was nice, we spent the whole day by the pool with Soo. I don’t know. It almost made me feel like I could live with it, you know? With the fact that he hadn’t said it back.”

“Yeah, I get you. We like to tell ourselves lies to keep our feelings at bay. It’s a woman thing.”

The three of you sit on the floor, Soori in the middle as you brush her hair and get to work on her little pigtails whilst Lucy plays with her, helping her stack her pink wooden cubes on top of one another. You tell her about your rollercoaster of emotions, going through a failed attempt at suppressing your feelings, then the feminine rage all the way to the sadness plummeting so hard through you it made you restless. 

“I should’ve known. Nobody sings Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan like that for no reason.”

You laugh, albeit weakly. “Don’t feel bad. I knew that the moment I told you, it’d be real.” 

“No, I get that. But I just can’t believe that you went through all of this by yourself. I wish I could’ve… been there.”

You put a hand on top of hers, Soori following in your steps as she puts her chubby hand on top of yours, making the both of you laugh. Lucy looks at Soori, then back at you, concern lacing her features as she asks,

“Then what happened?”

You make your way down the stairs, Soori on your hip as she babbles sweet nothings to her giraffe and Lucy follows suit. You tell her about the book you’d found in Jungkook’s living room, the one filled with pictures of him and Ira. 

“God, they were really in love, weren’t they?”

“Yeah. Seems like it.”

“What on Earth happened?” Lucy asks, making her way into the kitchen, reaching down to pick Soori’s giraffe up that she’d dropped, smiling at her as she places it back in her hands. 

“That’s the thing, I don’t know. I have no clue about what could’ve possibly driven her to…,” you halt your words, not wanting to finish the sentence in front of Soori, as oblivious as she was right now as you sat her down on her high chair. 

“Jimin has said things to me,” she starts, her words a bit weak. “I mean, nothing much. Or too specific. But he told me Jungkook tried. He told me he really tried. He was a good partner to her… just like he’s a good dad to Soori.”

“You know, it’s funny. I never once for a second thought he wasn’t.”

“I did. I mean- you know him better than I do. And it all sounded so complex to me I thought that maybe he’d driven her away. But Jimin- he talks about Ira with so much spite. Almost hatred. And they used to be close. I mean, she’s in a picture frame at his parents’ house, for God’s sake! He made them remove it, of course, but-” you take her words in, looking into her eyes. “I don’t know. He tried and she left. That’s all I’ve gathered from what he’s said.”

“Yeah. I guess the picture book really made me realize that… they’d loved each other. Very much.”

“What happened then?”

You look at her, a bit of shame lacing your features. You look at the kitchen counter, remembering that night. 

“Well,” you start and your tone of voice gives you away. 

“Oh, brother.”

You tell her about that night, in code, of course. Tell her about how it’d been a weak moment for you, how the little altercation you’d had before had set the mood for the tension to be released in one way or the other. And well, you were only human. A bit weak at times. You also tell her how it made you feel even sadder, though. How having him physically but not emotionally was really beginning to take a toll on you the more you pondered on your situation. You both get started with breakfast, cutting Soori’s fruit and putting some on her high chair before you get to frying eggs, mashing avocados, toasting bread, making coffee. You tell her about your sad girl hours, well into the night. 

“I’ve stalked all of Jimin’s exes on Instagram. It was pure torture. I can’t imagine having so much access to her on Google. I think it would send me spiraling,” she says, passing you the spatula. 

“Oh, it did. The worst part is that I couldn’t hate her. I mean, there she was, on my phone screen, looking perfect with her sweet, low voice, saying all the right things. How can I hate her?” You flip your egg.

“I’ve heard a lot of those things are fabricated, though.”

“I don’t know, Lu. The way Mai and Taehyung talk about her in that book… it was all adding up.”

She sighs, taking a sip of her latte, passing a tiny square of avocado toast to Soori that she’d cut up. She takes it, smiling at her, making her swoon. She gets your attachment to her now. She’s so sweet. 

You decide to take breakfast to the garden, the morning serene before you, sky settling into darker shades of Blue. The waves of the ocean can be heard from where you stand and the air feels fresh, clean. You tell her about Jungkook closing his deal, about the night you’d called her in a desperate bout, asking her what to wear. You tell her about Lily. She understands, doesn’t judge when you tell her how jealous you’d felt, how it’d made your blood boil as she threw innuendos at him. 

“Oh, I would’ve-,” she looks over at Soori, who blows a raspberry before shoving a piece of egg right into her mouth. “She would’ve heard a number from me, certainly.”

“What can I say, though? Yeah, Lily. Don’t flirt with my- my boss! Who I have romantic feelings for because he talks to me so very sweetly and he,” you look down at Soori. “He is really good at… frolicking me.”

She lets out a loud laugh, hand covering her mouth as she’s mid bite. “Fair enough. Ugh!”

You laugh a little, too. Your heart finding respite in your best friend. “I know. So annoying.”

“I mean, he is quite handsome, ___.”

“Yeah. I never wanted to get a paper bag over his head more.”

She chuckles at your words, shaking her head before she’s sighing for what feels like the millionth time today. “Then what happened?”

You look up at her, bringing your iced coffee to your lips and taking a sip. 

“We frolicked.”

“___! What is it with this vicious cycle you’re in?”

“I don’t know! It just keeps happening! In my defense, he just… frolicked me with his-,” you point at your tongue. “That’s all we did.”

“That is not the feminist act you think it is.”

You chuckle. “Trust me, I know.”

“But then again, I can’t blame you.”

“You should.”

“I would never.”

You smile at her. It’s almost funny, the way your chest feels a little lighter, the way you can laugh through it all, even as you walk down memory lane on some of the saddest days of your life. Lucy was magic. 

“I was emotionally hungover the next day. All I could think about was how I was standing under Ira’s shadow. How maybe… I don’t know, he’d never be able to love me the way he loved her.”

“I get that. I mean, those are some big shoes to fill. And it has nothing to do with you. It’s more so all the years they spent together, everything they went through, you know,” she nods in Soori’s direction, “the whole ass child they had together.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. 

“So… what exactly happened yesterday? You were in pretty bad shape.”

You tell her about Mingyu. About what Jungkook said to you. She flinches, eyes squinting as she viscerally reacts to his low blow. 

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Ouch.”

“So much to unpack here.”

“Good luck trying.”

“I mean, he was jealous. Dare I say, he is jealous. And I mean, I can almost understand him. Not saying you did anything wrong, but he did walk inside his kitchen and there you were, drinking peppermint tea with his friend, wearing his navy blue Ralph Lauren sweater!”

“It was bad judgment on my part, I can admit. But also, I didn’t mean for it to mean anything. I was just… cold. And dumb.”

“You are not dumb. He’s dumb! Because if he would’ve been aware of you, if he got his head of out his ass then he would’ve been the one drinking peppermint tea with you and you would’ve been wearing his navy blue Ralph Lauren sweater. I bet you they have the same one.”

Her words make you laugh. “His words sure did sting, though.”

“Duh, no wonder. He was a bit brutal.”

“Like, does he really think I would do something like that?”

“And what if you did? I mean, ethically speaking, flirting with your boss’ friend is wrong. But, flirting with… a guy. At a BBQ? What’s wrong with that!”

“He’s his friend, Lucy.”

“And that’s what he gets for not making it exclusive and going back and forth with his little boy feelings! Playing with yours in the process!”

“It’s more complicated than that,” you defend.

“___,” she huffs, taking your hand in hers and looking into your eyes. “You are in a situationship.”

“Oh, God,” you gasp.

“With a grown ass man. A twenty eight year old male Paris Hilton.” You store that remark for when you need a laugh in the future, right now you’re too busy digesting her words. “Who also happens to be your boss. The person that puts food in your plate.”

“I know!”

“Yeah!”

“God!”

“Christ, even!”

“Fuck.” you whisper.

“I take it you guys didn’t really talk about what happened last night, you just got to… frolicking?”

“Yeah.” You lower your head in shame. “I just- I told myself that it was going to be the last time. That I’d confront him today- well, confront is a big word. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to make this any harder than it already is. Plus, I have to think about Soori. I can’t leave her. We’re just gonna have to learn how to be civil about all of this.”

“So you’re breaking up with him?” She sounds surprised. You frown.

“Breaking up is a big word for Elmo. We are not together.”

She decides to store your remark for a future laugh, she’s too busy digesting your words right now. “Just like that?”

“Just like what, Lu? I mean, what else is there? I- I pour my heart out to him. I tell him I love him. I give him all the time in the world for him to say it back. Say anything back! And nothing. He doesn’t love me. And it’s hurting me, Lucy. It’s hurting me so bad. The uncertainty, the hiding, the back and forth. I don’t think I can take it any longer.”

Lucy takes it all in. Sees the pain in your eyes, hears the desperation in your words. She feels it, too. Not just because she’s your best friend, and truly, genuinely believes you guys are connected through celestial magic, but also because she knew the feeling a little too well. The heart ache, the restless feeling that takes over you when love isn’t reciprocated, the anxiety of it all. She knows what it feels like to be so close to giving up. 

“You’re right,” she says. “You’re right, ___. You don’t deserve any of it. You don’t deserve having to sit through the uncertainty, you don’t deserve to be with someone that keeps you a secret. You don’t deserve to feel any of what you’ve felt in these past couple of weeks.” Her saying the words back to you hurt more than you uttering them, and it makes you realize that you were perhaps hoping she’d say the opposite. “It must’ve been horrible – to bare your heart out to him like that and not hearing it back. It must’ve been horrible to have to see him every day. For him to be completely oblivious towards your feelings.” 

“Yeah.” Your words are faint, barely there. 

Matter of fact, Lucy knows what it’s like to give up entirely. To completely submit yourself to what you so strongly believe is fate. She thinks of Jimin, a smile forming at her lips like muscle memory at the mere thought of him. She thinks of how deflated her heart felt the day she met him, how her pillow had been silent witness to her tears just the night before after she’d longingly stared at her computer screen, some love story making her crave what she thought could only be found in movies and fairy tales. She’d given up, yes. She’d sworn off men, had encouraged herself to be a little more realistic. To use her logic when it came to romance. 

Jimin had dismantled all of that with only five words. 

“Hi. I’m Jimin, and you?”

“But I don’t think you’ve tried hard enough.” Her words make you flinch, looking at her with confusion, feeling a little defensive from the get go. “Listen to me. Yes, you did the big, brave thing. You told him you loved him, you sat through the dismissal his words provoked, you cried all the tears and sang along to all the sad songs in the world. You probably watched Pride and Prejudice a couple of times, too.” It frightens you a little, how she knows you so well. “And that’s all valid. And honestly, fuck him for making you feel like that. I hope he steps on a lego, like, every day for the rest of his life. But also,” she pauses for a bit, leaning closer to you. “You didn’t talk to him. You didn’t tell him any of this that you’re telling me. Yes, he’s oblivious, but your silence basically encouraged it. Yes, he’s dense but you didn’t open up to him enough so as to know if it’s coming out of malice. Which, frankly, I don’t believe. As much as he is not on my good graces right now,” she rolls her eyes, “I don’t think he meant to… hurt you.”  

“I know, but-” you don’t know, actually. Your silence proving that much and so she continues.

“That day… when he showed up at our door, I didn’t know what was happening. All I knew was that my best friend was in bed, feeling sad, and wouldn’t tell me why. And then I opened the door, and there he was, looking all… sad. I almost wanted to slam the door on his face because I knew he was the reason, it all made sense to me right then and there. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because he looked like he knew he’d… lost something. Something he wasn’t quite sure he could get back. He looked scared. And so I let him in.” 

“He did a shitty thing that day.”

“I know. It was very shitty. I truly hope the legos aren’t upside down. But,” she takes a breath, collecting her words for a second. “I guess, ever since that day I’ve been trying to decipher him. To decipher what he feels for you. It’s quite hard since, you know, you guys have to hide from the world or whatever. So I’ve taken to just… observing him. I’ve taken to looking at him when he’s looking at you. You barely notice, and I’m almost glad you don’t. I feel like if you would you’d break the little magic the moment holds. Maybe he’d shy away from the way his eyes get all shiny and he smiles in a way that lets me know he’s not really aware of it. And so a part of me is relieved, because I know that whatever it is, the feeling is pure. I went up to your bedroom yesterday because when I looked at him… he looked just the way he had that day in our front door.”

“Do you think he loves me?” 

Lucy’s heart breaks a little when you ask her, ever so faintly, a question that she doesn’t think she can answer. But nonetheless, she smiles, taking your hand in hers. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know if he loves you, ___. I don’t even know that he knows. Or that he can even become aware of it after all he’s been through. All I know is that you haven’t tried hard enough to figure it out. And it should never take a toll on your heart. It should never break you the way it did. But also, I think the reason why it did is because you had to carry the weight of it alone. I think… I think he would’ve at least been willing to help.”

“I don’t know, Lu…”

“Yeah. You don’t. Nobody knows. That’s the tricky side of it all. The one we run from the most because it means that we have to be even more vulnerable. Because we know we’re risking even worse of a heart break. But, could you live with yourself knowing you didn’t at least try? And I mean, really tried.”

“No.” The words come out of you before you can even think her question through. 

“Then you owe yourself at least that. Not him, not even my sappy, romantic self. You.”

You smile at her, lacing your fingers through hers. “What if I try and I’d been right all along?”

“Then I’ll be here. We’ll sing Chappell Roan together and I’ll make sure to scatter the legos all over his house myself.” Her face grows proud as she says this. 

You laugh. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Soori shrieks, making you both turn, laughing at her reaction. You walk over to her, taking her in your arms as you kiss her, swaying from side to side. She whines a little bit, voice muffled with the way you squeeze her cheeks with your kisses. 

“You’ll grow up and have the bestest friend ever, too, Soo Soo.”

Lucy looks at the two of you, can feel the way you radiate love. The way your whole face lights up as she brings her little chubby hand to your cheek, shrieking in excitement at your words that she doesn’t even understand, but that are coming from you. In that moment, she knows she’d given you the right advice. She knows it. She sees it.

From where she stands, the future paints itself rosy shades of pink. 

~

You feel your heart slowly mending itself, regaining its strength as the minutes pass and you bask in the sun, in Lucy’s words of comfort and her wise advice. In Soori’s little antics as the two of you play with her, letting her dip her toes in the water on the shallow end of the pool. You lather her body in sunblock and Lucy laughs at the white patches you intentionally leave on her cheeks. 

“She’s the most sensitive there,” you defend, running the lotion down her arms. 

“Okay, mommy.”

“This is my job, you know? Keeping the baby safe,” you mock defensiveness.

“Oh, please. Get so very real right now, ___.” 

“I am,” you laugh. “Although I will admit I do happen to love keeping the baby safe.”

She takes Soori in her arms, letting her splash about with her feet as she places her between her legs. “It’s okay, Soori. I’m the fun auntie.”

You look at them, a smile on your face as you revel in Soori’s sounds of excitement and Lucy’s tender nature towards her. You love seeing everyone melt for her, give her love and attention. 

“Ah, there you guys are!”

The three of you turn around, a smiling, pyjama-clad Jimin walking towards you. 

“Good morning, babe!” Lucy waves at him, bringing Soori’s little arm up, making her wave, too.

“Hi,” you say, a little shyly, all things considered.

“Good morning, ladies. Good morning, princess Soori.” He kisses Lucy’s lips, then Soori’s forehead. 

“How’d you sleep,” Lucy asks him.

“Good. Would’ve been better if I hadn’t woken up to an empty bed.”

“Sorry! Got hungry. Needed breakfast real bad.”

“You guys had breakfast already?”

“We’re on baby time,” you say, looking down at Soori whose arms are reaching out for Jimin. 

“Come here, baby,” he says, picking her up. 

“Gahhhh, my ovaries!” Lucy’s cries are dramatic as she throws her body back, falling on the grass, making you chuckle and raise your eyebrows at her. 

“Anytime, babe. I keep telling ya,” is all Jimin says, making you widen your eyes in shock. 

“Quit saying that, oh my God,” she whines. 

“Mr Jeon Jungkook has been looking everywhere for you,” he looks at Soori, looking at you next, “and you.”

“Oh, he’s awake?”

“Yup. I heard he had a long night,” he says, a little smirk forming at his lips. Your blush is so evident it actually makes him feel bad. 

“Jimin! Leave her alone,” Lucy says, coming to her feet. 

He laughs, throwing his head back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m gonna…,” you point towards the house, ready to make your exit.

“You may be excused.” Jimin’s words earn him a scowl from his girlfriend, which humors him further. 

When you make your way back inside the house, you see Jungkook as he enters the living room. Eyes swollen, groggy with sleep, running a hand through his hair to try to fix his bedhead. And as much as your heart aches at the sight of him still, you also can’t help but smile, still in the high Lucy’s words had left you in. 

“Hey,” you say, making him look at you. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he walks towards you, hand reaching for yours, holding it for a second, squeezing before he’s letting go. The act alone is so gentle you think you could cry. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

You shrug. “Wanted to let you sleep in for a bit.”

“I should’ve let you sleep in.”

You shake your head, smiling at him. “It’s okay. We’ve been having a nice morning. Lucy joined us, we had breakfast outside. They’re by the pool now. I lathered her in sunscreen, don't worry.”

He smiles. “Thank you.”

You look around for a second, finding a door next to the hallway that leads to the kitchen. “What’s in there?”

He follows your line of vision. “A wine cellar.”

“Can we go there? Just for a minute,” you ask, and although your question makes him curious he simply nods, letting you lead the way. 

The door gives way to a spiral staircase, a bit narrow and small. You hold onto the railing, a particular yet pleasant smell invading your senses as you begin to descend. It’s woodsy, a little musky and fruity. It’s a bit chilly, too. 

“You’re really into wine,” you tell him, eyeing the many shelves stacked with bottles of all kind. White, red, pink, a couple of bottles of champagne. 

“Yeah,” he says, looking around, too. “I guess I’ve become my father.”

You laugh. “I like that about you.”

“What? That I’ve become my father?”

“No!” you say and he laughs at your reaction. “That you know a lot about wines.”

“Hm,” he hums, grabbing you by the waist and bringing you closer. “I can teach you if you want.”

“Go on.”

“Okay, so, the temperature in this room remains at a perfect 12 degrees celsius at all times. This prevents the wine from oxidizing,” his words falter a bit as you bring your hands to his hair, fingers massaging his scalp gently as you listen intently. “The cooling system is quite particular because it keeps the humidity in the air at a steady 60%. The temperature the wine is stored in really affects the complexity and balance of the-,” he groans in satisfaction as your fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Wine.” 

“Jungkook,” you look up at him, eyes dreamy and hazy. 

“___,” his voice hold the same nature. 

“Can you kiss me? Can,” you sigh, “can we kiss, a little, right now?”

“Yeah, baby. We can kiss a little right now.”

Your eyes lock on his, blinking slowly as you take in the way he takes you in. His eyes are shiny, and they smile before his lips do. You close your eyes, falling into him a bit before he’s catching you with his lips on yours. His hand comes up to your cheek, fingers snaking through your locks of hair as he brings you closer, sighing against your mouth. Your arms wrap around his waist, hands coming up inside his shirt, his skin warm at your touch. His teeth close around your bottom lip and you give him full access to your mouth, tongue meeting his, but it’s ever so slow. Tender, almost. 

It sort of dawns on him right then and there, something he’d been missing from you, making him realize that this is the most he’s gotten of you in a while. And he doesn’t mean your body, or your touch, or a kiss. No. He means the way you fall into him, the way you look at him, the way you ask him for affection in that way that he loves, so supple and pliant, almost shy. The way you hug him to you feels different, only there’s nothing different about it, it’s just been a long time. Jungkook can’t make much of it, mind too wrapped around your lips, just like his mouth, but it doesn’t miss him, how much he’s missed you and how suddenly the realization hits. 

“You want breakfast?” you part your lips from his and he pouts with his eyes still closed.

“I was in the middle of it.”

You laugh, shoving him playfully. “We can’t hide in the wine cellar forever.”

“All I need is, like,” he presses his hips against yours, “twenty minutes.”

You gasp. “Jungkook!”

“I just woke up! You took advantage of my vulnerable state.”

You roll your eyes. “I just wanted to kiss you a little.”

“Fine,” he huffs, mocking annoyance, the frown between his eyebrows falling when you put your lips on his one last time. 

Perhaps you’re playing with fire. Perhaps you’re stalling, buying yourself time before you have to put your plan in action, before you have to do the real hard work, thread the words needed to do it all. The courage, too. Perhaps you’re savoring the moment just in case this is your last. You try not to think about it too much, staying in the bliss you just put yourself in. You decide you’ll tell him once you’re both back from the beach. On tuesday, when he comes home from work. You’ll have time to craft a sensible plan, find the right words, benefit from Lucy’s sound advice a little longer. 

Yes. Tuesday it is. 

“What are the plans for today?” you ask as you make your way up the stairs.

“Pool party, burgers and, me personally, winning every game of Badminton.”

You laugh, nodding your head slowly. “I’ll be rooting for you.”

“Aw,” he coos. “My little cheerleader.”

“I can hear your thoughts, Jeon.”

“I can see you in a mini skirt, ___.” 

“Hey, I might. Just for you,” you say, looking back at him as you make your way to the kitchen. 

“Ah, you spoil me.”

You turn around, pointing a finger at him. “That’s true actually.”

“That’s true actually,” he mimics your voice when he says this, making you shove him playfully and open your mouth in shock. 

“Dada!” Soori’s sweet voice makes him turn around, a big smile on his face as she enters the living room in Jimin’s arms. 

“There you are, my little princess!” She falls into his arms the moment he’s close enough for her to, wrapping her chubby arms around his neck. “Aw, thank you, baby. You’re so sweet. Good morning.”

“Nana,” she says, pointing at you. Lucy and Jimin smile, although you don’t notice, too hyper fixated on Soori. 

“You wanna go with Nana?” Jungkook leans over towards you, handing her over before he’s pulling away playfully. She whines. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” he says, laughing. 

“Come here,” you tell her, arms outstretched and she falls into them swiftly. She giggles some, clapping two times before she’s turning back to Jungkook, shooting grabby hands at him.

“That’s what I thought.” He takes her into his arms. 

You gasp, feigning offense. “Traitor!”

“You guys are cute.” Jimin voices his thoughts out loud, unable to contain them as he takes the sweet scene in. He doesn’t voice how happy it makes him, though. He doesn’t tell you guys that seeing the three of you together like that makes him feel like he’d found the last piece of the puzzle – one he couldn’t when Ira was around and his expectations of seeing his best friend in a loving family dynamic sort of tumbled when she wouldn’t play her part. 

Jungkook looks over at him, smiling as he bounces Soori in his arms, whose already looking at you like she’s about to betray him this time. He smiles, silently agreeing with his friend, almost as if he understood what he was thinking. Almost like he was feeling it, too. 

~

“A tankini? Really, ___?”

“It’s cute! Plus, it’s appropriate for the job. Soori tends to tug at my clothes at times, I can’t wear a bikini.”

“No, no. I get that much,” Lucy says, “but a tankini?”

“It was on sale!”

“You get away with too much by being drop dead gorgeous and having the face of an angel.”

“Your compliments won’t make me want to wear my tankini any less.”

“I beg of you, don’t wear the tankini.”

“But it’s pink,” you protest, spirit a bit deflated although you know she’s kind of right. 

“May I?” She points at your suitcase and you nod, plopping down on the bed a little dramatically. “Okay, I see the potential,” she says, throwing shirts and dresses around. “This!” She holds a white strapless one piece swimsuit. It’s one of your favorites – simple but cute. 

“That one gives me a wedgie.”

“Something’s got to give!” She throws the bathing suit at you. “Also, don’t blame the swimsuit blame your thiccy.”

“Did you just call my ass thiccy?”

“Yeah, I got it from Jimin.”

“Ew,” you say, looking at her. “Ew.”

“Here,” she says, throwing an oversized blue button up shirt your way. 

“What about pants?”

“Use that as a dress!” You’re about to protest, “and that’s final.” 

You throw a firm nod her way. The shirt was long enough to pass as semi-modest so you opt out of protesting. 

“So,” she says, sitting on the spot you’d left empty on the bed as you begin to change. “Have you decided about when to talk to him?”

“Yeah,” you say, pulling the bathing suit up your body. “Tuesday. Tuesday after he comes home from work. I’ll have it all perfectly rehearsed in my head.”

Lucy smiles. “That’s good. The both of you will be well rested after this weekend and you’ll be able to have a sensible talk.”

“Yeah, exactly!”

“Do try to, you know, sleep at night.”

“Shut up. I’m feeling fine! Running on caffeine and adrenaline, but fine.”

She laughs. “Ready?”

“Ready!”

“Let’s go.” 

“Wait,” you say, making her turn around, confused. She lets out a nod of understanding when she sees you grabbing Mingyu’s sweater, which you’d neatly folded to give back to him. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” she reassures. “It’s gonna be a good day!”

“God willing, Lucy Lu. God willing.”

You sigh, giving yourself a little pep talk for courage before you exit the room, ready to take on the day. 

~

The rest of the morning, as well as the beginning of the afternoon, had really catered to your inner child. Yes, it was your job to take care of Soori but the rest of the kids seemed to love you just as much and so your hands had been full. You’d swam in the pool with them, built sandcastles, played mermaids and even had a little water balloon fight that seemed to interest both the children and the adults alike. By the time noon hit and Jungkook and Taehyung were starting to roll the burgers around, you’d been convinced to sit at the kid’s table. Which wasn’t a table per say, as they’d wanted to have a little picnic and so you’d found yourself sitting on one of the many beach towels they’d retrieved from inside to make their own picnic blanket. 

It’d been sweet and fun, exactly what you needed after having to walk down memory lane this morning. And in a way, it added to the lighthearted mood you’d ended up your talk with Lucy in. Kids were easy – well, kids came easy to you. You found them to be less complex than people gave them credit for. They were easily entertained as long as you were willing to step inside their little world, which at times played out to be more entertaining than your own. 

By the time 3 p.m. rolled around you could start feeling the shift in atmosphere, though. They were exhausted, you included, as a sleepy Soori fuzzed about in your arms. 

“I think it’s time for a nap, kiddos,” Mai says, her words followed by whines of protest from the kids. 

Sun acts as the voice of reason, though, as she says, “but can we keep playing afterwards, auntie Mai?” she pleads, turning to you, “will you still play with us after nap time, ___? Pleeeeease.”

“Of course,” you tell her, free hand caressing her hair. “Plus, it’d be funner then because you guys will have more energy.”

“I am a little tired,” Dae says, his Rs running a bit, making him sound ten times more adorable. 

“See? We all need a nap. You guys can go inside the play room and make it a little mid-day pj party, how about that?” Mai’s idea comes as a success, the kids jumping with excitement, some even hugging her. She turns to you, voice a whisper when she says, “I’m kinda badass at this.”

Your lips form a pout and you nod at her. “You are.”

She smiles at you before she’s officially on nap duty, gathering all the kids and bringing them inside the house. You bounce Soori in your arms, her eyes half closed already, head wobbly as she fights to stay awake. You give her a kiss on the cheek, making your way to the sunbeds where the boys are drinking beers and talking about some game they’d watched the night prior, the team scoring the winning goal only three minutes before the game was over. 

“___!” Jin says the moment he sees you, making them all turn their heads in your direction. “Aren’t you god sent? I think my kids like you more than me today.”

“My kid likes her more than me at least once a week,” Taehyung says, smiling at you. 

“Thank you, thank you. I do birthdays, weddings, baptisms.” You say, making them all roar out in laughter. 

“You do have that midas touch when it comes to kids, ___.” Hobi tells you, leaning back and taking a sip of his beer. 

“I probably enjoyed that more than they did.” You smile, feeling a bit shy under their praise. 

Jungkook smiles, feigning a casual front as he takes a sip of his beer, eyes on you. Wet hair, a little ruffled from the day’s activities. A big blue shirt that’s mostly wet, too, and that bathing suit that as modest as he knows you tried to aim for, does very little to keep him away from what he knows is underneath. Your cheeks are officially crimson and your body golden. He can’t help it when his eyes travel down, the softness of your skin drawing him in. You’re nothing if not perfect and if he were to reach out, he could run his hand down your leg. Not sexually, per say. Just… touch. Touch so as to let you know what he thinks. What he feels. 

He composes himself for a second before his eyes are on Soori. “She ready for a nap?”

“Yup.” You nod at him, looking at Soori under your nose. She smiles and when you follow her line of vision you see that it’s Yoongi and his silly faces that pull it out of her. “I can go put her down, if you want.” 

“No, let’s go together,” he says, standing up, coming down to kiss her chubby cheek. He turns to his friends one last time, bowing before saying, “gentlemen, I’ll be back. Take this time to decide who’s ass I’m beating next in Badminton.”

As you turn around and walk towards the house, you can’t help but laugh at the remarks that follow, his friends absolutely going ham on him, all lighthearted blows he opts to ignore with a chuckle of his own. 

“You’re like the meme of the girl standing in front of the burning house.”

He looks at you, frowning in confusion. “Excuse me, what?”

“Oh my God, you’ve never seen the meme of the girl standing in front of the burning house?”

“No, but that sounds horrible. Was she okay?” You laugh as you turn to him, noticing the way real concern laces his features.

“It’s funny! It’s like a cult favorite, too. I’m pretty sure it’s been around for a while. Like back in the 9GAG days. You know, B.C.” You smirk his way, not missing the way he rolls his eyes at you. 

“Hey, I loved 9GAG. It was funny.”

“Of course you did.”

You step inside the house, walking in front of him and laughing when he pauses in his steps and says, “what’s wrong with 9GAG?”

“Nothing,” you tell him, smiling and dragging him upstairs by the arm. “It’s always an honor to be in the presence of people that have witnessed history.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he tells you, chuckling at your little bout of wittiness. 

You make it inside of Soori’s nursery, promptly changing her diaper and getting her into a pair of dry pyjamas. She falls asleep halfway into this, making you both laugh and bask in a quiet satisfaction at realizing just how much fun she’d been having. When you put her in her crib, you take a second to just look at her, neither of you saying much, simply taking her in. 

“She’s perfect, huh,” you whisper. 

“She’s so perfect,” he whispers back.

Jungkook smiles at her before turning to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and kissing your cheek. It all feels… domestic. Tender, lovely and sweet. The knot in your stomach that’d been growing bigger and bigger for the past couple of weeks begins to break, slowly, releasing a small army of butterflies that seem to both excite and calm your nerves. You kiss his cheek, basking in the bliss his proximity brings. 

“Let’s go back,” you tell him, “you have asses to kick.”

He smiles, lips coming to yours in a quick peck. “You should relax. Drink some wine with the girls, get some sun.”

“If I have one sip of wine and lay by the sun I’ll probably end up like her,” you say, looking down at Soori.

“Do it, baby. I got her.” 

The knot breaks entirely, wings fluttering violently as they’re freed after so long. 

You’re in love. 

~

You’d taken Jungkook’s advice, laying on the sunbeds with the girls, glass of wine in hand as you snack on the fruit platter Mai and Seulgi had prepared. You’d even fallen asleep for all of fifteen minutes, which had recharged your battery more than you’d originally thought. You’d think it’d be quieter with all the kids sleeping, but the boys and their very serious game of Badminton kept the ambiance just as loud as before. At one point, you’d all taken the roles of spectators and cheerleaders, rooting for your competitor of choice. Jungkook won, yet again, and you didn’t miss the smile he shot your way, overly confident in his skills. Overly confident in his ability to pull reactions out of you. This one in particular he’d found adorable, seeing the way you flustered at his actions, hiding your face in your hands for a second before you went back to feigning nonchalance. 

Now you were all scattered around. Some in the pool, some by the beach, a couple of you still in the sunbeds, soft music playing from the speakers. It was rather blissful, if you were being honest. 

You’re in the middle of small, lazy talk with Mai when you suddenly remember,

“Oh, I have to get Soori’s swimming diapers. She ran out but Jungkook said he had spare ones somewhere…”

“Oh, yeah,” Mai says, “he keeps them in the pool house. Go inside the bathroom, they should be in one of the drawers.”

You smile at her, thanking her before you’re making your way to the small, white house that sat at the end of the big backyard. Making your way inside you see that it’s mostly for storage. Floaties, surfboards, spare sunbeds. You notice that the door to the bathroom is open slightly, but don’t make much of it as you walk towards it. Both you and Jungkook let out a loud scream when he appears by the door frame. 

“Holy fuck.” You whisper yell, hand on your mouth. 

“You scared the living shit out of me.” His own hand comes to his chest, leaning against the counter and steadying his breathing.

“Me? You scared the living shit out of me! Why are you in there with the lights off like a crazy person?”

“Why didn’t you turn the lights on when you came in like a normal person?”

You both stare at each other for a second too long before you’re breaking out in laughter. 

“I came to get Soori’s diapers,” you tell him, mid-chuckle. 

He raises his hand, showing you a handful of diapers. “Me too.”

“Ah,” you say, walking closer to him. “Great minds think alike.”

“Mhm,” he leans against the counter once again as you stand in front of him. “My heart’s beating so fast, dude.”

You laugh. “You’re so dramatic, dude.”

“Hey, you can’t dude me.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Fine. You’re so dramatic, Jungkookie.”

“I’m not! Look,” he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his bare chest and placing it over his heart. He’s still wet from the pool, skin warm from the sun. His heart is beating a little irregularly, you must admit. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, adding to the drama of it all as your voice grows soft. “I’ll put a bell around my neck the next time so I don’t startle you.”

“Ha ha, funny.”

“Oh, I am.”

You can’t explain it, but the air shifts around you. Jungkook can’t explain it either, but he welcomes it. 

“Yeah?” 

You smile, cheeks growing red for whatever reason. Or perhaps for all the right reasons. He can dismantle you with a few words and that’s one your favorites by far.

“Yeah,” you breathe, eyes growing heavy as his own look into yours. In a matter of seconds they’re landing on your lips. And then he’s kissing you. 

The kiss holds the same nature this morning’s had, perhaps a little less playful. A little more intentional. Like you’re both finding a means to an end just so you can bask in the journey of getting there. When you sigh into his lips, Jungkook brings you closer, hand on your cheek as he parts your lips with his tongue. The kiss grows heady, your fingers carding through his wet locks and his hands land on your waist, squeezing some before he’s turning you around until you’re leaning on the counter. The swiftness with which he handles your body has a moan escaping your lips and he feels the way you smile against his mouth. He pushes his hips into yours, drunk on you already, determined to pull those little sounds out of you. 

“Wait,” you say, parting your lips from his, laughing a little when you see his flustered state, lips red and swollen in his signature pout. “What if someone walks in?” He smiles, eyes not leaving yours as he leans to the side and closes the door, locking it in a beat. He’s about to kiss you again but you interrupt him. “Soori?”

“Baby monitor in my back pocket.” He kisses you. “We’ve got like, twenty minutes give or take.”

You laugh, kissing him back, arms wrapping around his neck as you breathe into the kiss in giddy anticipation. “Think you can make me cum in twenty minutes give or take?”

He pulls away, but it’s only an inch. He scowls, a smile on his lips that takes your breath away. “Is that a challenge?”

The air shifts yet again, air growing dense this time. “Yeah,” is all you can muster.

“What do I get?” 

You hum, pretending you’re deep in thought. “Me?”

“I’ll do it in ten.” 

You laugh, sweet music to his ears and his smile meets yours in a kiss. It’s deeper this time, grows sloppy soon enough and Jungkook wastes no time as his hand cups your tits over your bathing suit, grunting a bit at the fabric getting in the way before he’s pulling it down in one swift movement. He brings his mouth to your nipple, expert little sucks that have you throwing your head back as your fingers pull at his hair. You lean back, head hitting the mirror as your breathing grows heavier. When you come back up, you push him back with a hand to his chest as you come to stand in front of him. You erase the frown from his face the moment he sees the way you roll the white fabric of your swimsuit down your legs, leaning back against the counter. 

“Better than the mini skirt,” he says, towering over you as he pushes his hands against the counter. 

You bite your lip, smiling at him with dark eyes before you’re turning around, your hands falling in front of you, tits pressing together as you push your ass back against him. You look at his reflection on the mirror, giggle a bit when you catch him staring, lust filled eyes scanning over your body. 

“Like what you see?” your voice is teasing, cocky even, and it comes to no surprise when Jungkook’s firm hand comes to your waist, holding you in place before he delivers a hard smack to your ass. The pain translates to pleasure in a brief yet delicious second, eyes closing as you moan and bring your body forward. His hand lingers for a while, softer this time as he caresses the warm skin before his fingers travel south, parting your slit and drawing lazy circles against your clit. 

“You’re so wet, baby.”

“Fuck, I am,” you pant, head lolling forward as you breathe into his touch. 

“You’re a little brat today,” he says, matter of factly, staring at your reflection in the mirror as his fingers expertly pull little moans from your lips. 

You look up at him, fucked out eyes pleading, “need you inside me.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yes,” your words get caught up in a whiny moan when he pushes two fingers inside of you. “Please.”

“That’s more like it. So pretty when you ask nicely.”

His eyes don't leave yours and you see the way he pushes his swim shorts down slightly, wrapping a hand around his cock before he’s lining himself against your entrance. He teases your hole with the head, smirking at the way you squirm in his hold at the mere action. He wishes he could tease you further, but Jungkook’s time is limited and he knows that much. He pushes his cock inside of you, gasping when he bottoms out. His hips pick up the pace right away, wasting no time as he starts fucking you the way he does when all he wants is to make you cum, perfectly angled so he hits all the right places repeatedly. 

“Fuck, that feels so good, baby,” you mumble, words breaking at the intensity of his thrusts. You close your eyes, try to steady your breathing out but he has other plans as his hand wraps around your neck, pulling you up some as his fingers close around your throat. 

“Keep your eyes open.” 

He looks at you through the reflection in the mirror, takes you in as he fucks you, a low groan escaping his lips when he feels you clench around him. His face contorts in pleasure, a grin pulling at his lips when he realizes you’re already close. The hand that wraps around your throat tightens, applying more pressure at the flesh, making you feel a bit lightheaded in the most perfect way, aiding to the way your senses zero in on him and the way he makes you feel. You know you’re close the moment your tummy tenses, his cock massaging your g-spot with each push and pull of his hips. 

“Oh my God,” you breathe out, hand clasping around his own as you make him press harder. “Don’t stop.”

He moans at your actions, at the way you beg for more with your body when your words fail. He keeps that exact pace up, thumb and middle finger pressing into your throat a bit deeper, just the right amount to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your body falling back into him, head on his shoulder as you cum around his cock with a silent moan. The sight before him feels straight out of the craziest of his wet dreams and it makes his cock throb inside of you as your walls milk him through your orgasm. 

Your body shakes a bit as you fall on top of the counter, your hand coming to his hip to get him to stop moving for a second as you cringe a bit in overstimulation. 

“Victory is sweet,” he says, bringing his hand to your back, fingers running down your spine in a soothing manner. 

You smile at him. “I was confident all along. Just needed an excuse to get you to fuck me.”

“Aw, baby. All you had to do was ask.” 

He pulls your body up, hands on your hips as he turns you around and sits you back on the counter. He lets out a low grunt when he pushes his cock back inside you, your pussy pulling him in right away and he knows he won’t last long. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” 

You giggle, brains completely fucked out before you say, “we’re having a quickie in the bathroom.”

Jungkook scoffs, hands closing around your tits, hips thrusting into you slower, letting himself enjoy it. His head falls, eyes fixed on the way his cock pushes inside of you, moaning at the sight alone. His gaze travels up, taking you in. It’s so hot inside the bathroom he can feel the way his body sticks to yours every time he fucks into you. A single drop of sweat falls from your chest, traveling between your tits before it lands on your navel. His eyes close in a mix of bliss, disbelief and pleasure. 

“You’re so sexy, baby. Shit, I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, Kook. Need it so bad.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you kiss him, lips locked in his as he breathes out into the kiss, little whines leaving him as he lets himself fall into the feeling completely. You become conscious of him, let yourself enjoy him in this state, when he’s so close to letting go he grows a little desperate, hands all over yours, needy sounds passing his lips, hips lazily moving into you. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he says against your lips, pulling away so he can bury his head down the crook of your neck. He gets carried away – too carried away. His cock throbs inside of you, hips slowing down their pace as his body tenses for a second. He’s about to let himself relax, let himself cum, and it’s then that he realizes he’s still inside of you. “Fuck.” he looks down, pulling out and wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping once before he’s cumming on your leg. You bring a hand to your mouth when you notice, trying to muffle your laughter. “Shit, that was close.”

“Yeah,” you say, bringing his face to yours. “Got carried away?”

“Yeah. Completely let go of the principles of conception for a good minute.”

You laugh. “No conception would’ve taken place. It would’ve been a creampie at the max.”

“Don’t say the word creampie, my dick just jumped and we can’t go again.”

“You’re such a boy,” you say, bringing your lips to his. 

“I’m a man,” he protests, words muffled by your kiss. 

“Mm, yeah you are. You’re also a daddy so let’s get those diapers inside.”

“Don’t say the D-word, my dick just jumped for real and we really can’t go again.”

“Oh my God. You’re so filthy minded!”

You push him off of you playfully, pulling his shorts up before you’re doing the same with your previously discarded swimsuit, jumping a bit as you roll it past your ass. Jungkook smirks at your struggle. 

“Mmmm,” he hums. “Do that again.”

“Have I ever told you you’re an ass man?”

“I’m a you man, baby.”

“Shut up.”

“Shut me up.”

“Oh my God!” 

You both laugh at your flustered state that only seems to edge him on further, but it’s short lived. Your hands land on the door knob of the pool house at the same time, making you giggle before your smiles are falling as you realize that you’re about to do the walk of shame and have no idea how to get out of it.

“Shit,” you say. 

“Shit, indeed,” he says back. 

~

To your fortune, the walk of shame isn’t that bad. It isn’t bad at all, actually. The kids had woken up from their naps and had everyone’s attention so nobody noticed your absence much. To your misfortune (and Jungkook’s) it doesn’t take you long to realize that Mingyu keeps Dae entertained as they play around with water guns. 

Jungkook lets out a big sigh that you don’t miss before he’s clearing his throat and saying, “hey, bro. You made it.”

“Hey,” he says, a little too giddy for his friend’s liking. “Yeah, sorry I’m late. Went on a hike this morning, could barely move afterwards.” He waves at you, a smile on his face.

“Gotta work on that stamina,” Jungkook says, mostly playfully with a little hint of something else. 

“You should come with me the next time, we can work on it together,” he bites back, no hint of anything but playfulness in his words. 

His eyes land back on yours and you give him a tight lipped smile, taking the diapers from Jungkook’s hands before you’re letting him know that you’re gonna go get Soori. He smiles, feels the need to pull you closer, give you a kiss in front of everyone, take your hand in his. Anything. But he doesn’t. He just nods and then you’re on your way. He doesn’t miss the way his friend’s eyes scan over your body, a stupid smile plastered all over his face that makes his blood boil a little. 

You don’t really notice it, though, making your way inside the house and going up the stairs to make it to Soori’s room. She’s awake, jumping a little when she sees you walk inside the room. 

“Hi, baby,” you coo. “Did you have a good nap? Are you ready to keep having fun?”

“Nana,” she whines, making grabby hands at you. 

“Come here.” You get her out of the crib, taking her to her changing table before you’re getting her swimming diapers on and putting her in a clean swimsuit with cute daisies printed all over it. “You’re so cute.” You kiss her cheeks repeatedly until she gets ticklish, pushing you away as she cackles.

You sit her against your hip before you exit her nursery, walking the long hallways and going down the stairs as you sing her a little song she babbles along to. It’s then that you brave yourself for what you’re about to do, walking inside the kitchen, quickly finding Mingyu’s sweater that you’d left on top of the breakfast table this morning. It’ll be quick and harmless. You’ll just hand it over to him, thank him and go about your business. 

It’s a good plan. A great plan even. It’s also a plan that crashes down before it can even take off as you see him make his way inside the kitchen. 

“And so we meet again.” He smiles when he sees you, looking down at Soori and smiling even wider. 

“Hey,” you say, a bit nervously. 

“Came to get some beers, the boys are out.” He walks closer to you, hand coming down to rest on top of Soori’s head as he caresses her hair softly. “Hi Soo Soo.” She smiles, falling into his arms as quickly as he reaches them out towards her. It’s in that moment that you realize that he’s closer to Jungkook than you’d originally thought. He has to be if Soori’s this comfortable around him. 

“Thank you,” you say, passing his sweater over to him. 

“No worries. Sure you don’t wanna keep it? It’s gonna be just as chilly tonight.”

“No, that’s okay.”

“You kinda disappeared last night,” he says, bouncing Soori on his hip, looking down at her so as to not have to look at you when he says this. 

“Yeah, I was really tired, couldn’t get to bed soon enough.”

“It was nice getting to talk to you. I was looking forward to today… just so we could do it again.” He laughs a little, shaking his head at his words. He doesn’t mind your silence, though. “I was thinking… maybe we could grab a coffee when we’re back in the city?”

“Coffee,” you say, and he can’t tell if it’s a question or a statement. 

“Or dinner! Or a movie, or something. Just… hang out. Get to know each other.”

“I’m sorry… I- I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

He smiles. “Yeah, perhaps me asking you this right now isn’t the smartest move, huh?” He looks down at Soori. You’re silent yet again. “Perhaps I’ll leave it up to fate.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps we’ll bump into each other in some random place like the grocery store or in the middle of a really busy street and… I’ll ask you again. And perhaps you’ll say yes.”

You feel bad. You feel bad because as dense as you might be when it comes to receiving attention, you don’t fail to see that he likes you. Genuinely, sincerely likes you. Or at least likes the idea of you enough to want to pursue it further and get to know you. 

“Or hey,” he says, making you look into his eyes again. “Maybe I’ll make my own fate.”

~

“Sorry what,” Jungkook’s head turns so fast he’s sure he’s given himself whiplash, grateful to not have taken the sip of beer he’d planned on the moment he started talking because he’s sure he would’ve spat it out. 

Mingyu’s idea of making his own fate was… something, to say the least. And so there he was, next to Jungkook as they both started the fire for the grill, asking him to be his wingman. 

“I mean, perhaps it was a bit wrong of me to ask her out while she’s on, you know,” he says, looking at Jungkook and pointing at him with the tongs, “the clock and whatnot. But fuck I don’t know. She’s just so-” he sees the way Jungkook looks at him in shock and it makes him chuckle. “Am I making any sense right now?”

“No.”

“Yesterday- we hit it off. But you know, it was casual. We barely got to know each other in a,” he pauses for a second, and every pause makes Jungkook’s blood boil further. “Deeper level. So I tried to not look into it that much. But then I got home and got in bed and all I could think about was her. Like, fuck, I felt eighteen again. She’s so beautiful. She’s so fucking sweet. And so I knew it couldn’t end there. So I just asked her out.”

“When?”

“In the kitchen, when I went to get the beers. She was giving me my sweater back and I thought to myself, might as well.”

“And what did she say,” Jungkook asks. 

“She said no. She said she doesn’t think it’s gonna work.” Jungkook lets out a breath he very much knew he was holding. “But I blame myself for that. I mean, I get why she wouldn’t agree to it right now. She’s technically on the clock, like I said, and I get why it could be perceived as inappropriate.” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, eyes a little lost, quite literally begging for the earth to swallow him. 

“But that’s where you come into the picture.”

“How exactly do I come into the picture,” he says, but what he really thinks is, I already am in the picture, dumbass. She’s mine. He also realizes this would be an extremely childish thing of him to say.

“Well, you know, we’ve been friends for so long. You can put in a good word for me, sort of encourage her to-”

“You want me to encourage my nanny into going on a date with my friend?” His words have edge to it but Jungkook doesn’t care anymore, not that Mingyu seems to notice, too caught up in the visions of a future with you he’s formed inside his head. 

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen, I get it,” Jungkook scoffs. “But, you know, maybe you could do it in a lighthearted manner. Like, yeah he’s a great guy! You totally deserve to be happy! You know, kinda like… a brotherly figure. Yeah! That’s it!”

“You’re fucking insane.” Now he really doesn’t care that his words have bite to them. And Mingyu’s head is still way up in the clouds for him to notice they do. 

He chuckles. “Maybe I am. But she’s…,” his eyes find you in the crowd, “different. She’s special you know?” 

Yes, I know, is what Jungkook wants to say. But instead he says nothing. 

Mingyu looks back at him. “But hey, I’ll find a way. I’m telling you, man. This was written in the stars. Luck is on my side. Then you can play cupid,” he says, patting his back. 

Jungkook laughs faintly. Not because anything’s funny, but because he’s glad the conversation is over. 

“I’ll be right back.”

“Sure, I’ll get this started,” Mingyu says, motioning to the grill. 

Jungkook tries to stop it, but he can’t help it. He feels the way his heart constricts inside his chest. He’s angry, furious even, but he can’t do anything to release said anger. He had to sit through that conversation and pretend like his friend’s words were only fucked up because he was trying to get with his nanny, not because he was trying to get with his- 

Girlfriend.

Jungkook wants to call you his girlfriend but he knows he can’t. He knows he has no right to call you that because you aren’t his girlfriend. Because Taehyung was right – you guys weren’t exclusive. You didn’t owe him anything. Not a title he hadn’t asked for. Nor loyalty. Nothing. If you wanted to, you could very well accept Mingyu’s proposal. He was there, at your disposal, and perhaps even in ways Jungkook hadn’t been. He’d been straightforward with you. Bold, even. Jungkook almost had to admire it. He’d gone up to you and simply… asked you out. Showed interest, shot his shot. He liked you. He liked you and Jungkook knew he liked you in a way that you deserved. The realization sinks into him, a punch that knocks the air out of him as he makes his way through the garden and out into the beach. 

He’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice you noticing him. But you do. You notice the way he talks to Mingyu, see the way his eyes grow darker with each passing second. You see the way he pushes the anger that threatens to leave him away. See the way he makes his way through the garden, steps a bit lost, like he doesn’t know where he’s going. You see the way his face falls with every step until they land in what you can only describe as sadness. The moment he’s out of sight, you excuse yourself from the conversation you’d halfheartedly been in, and go after him. 

He faces the ocean, takes in the sun as it begins to set, the air growing colder around him, the breeze making the waves choppier before they break at his feet. His mind is blank now and he’s almost grateful, his thoughts unable to attack him any further. All he can focus on is the sky turning colors and the ache that grows inside his chest. 

“Jungkook.”

Your voice is a whisper that gets caught up in the wind and for a second you think he doesn’t hear you, but then he’s turning his head around, eyes on yours as you make your way to him. The sand feels heavy on your feet, almost like it wants to stop you. But once you’re face to face with him he smiles. He smiles and you almost want to buy it but you know it’s not fully there. Nonetheless, you smile back. Your lips pulling up with the same nature as his. 

“Hi,” he says, looking at you for what the eternity of a second can hold before his gaze is back to the blue of the sea and the pink of the sky. 

“What happened?” You don’t have to pretend like you don’t know something did. You see the way he smiles again, only this time it holds something more. Bitterness, perhaps. 

He doesn’t look at you when he says, “Mingyu told me.”

“Told you what?”

“About him asking you out… he really likes you, you know?”

“Jungkook, I’m sorry. I- I said no. I told him-”

“I know,” he says, and it’s soft, holds no anger or resentment. “I guess that I’m just realizing that if you hadn’t said no… I couldn’t really hold it against you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your voice grows faint, a silent plea. You want him to look at you. 

“I can’t pretend like you owe me anything. And that’s on me, I guess. No- I know. I know it’s on me. And so I guess it’s catching up to me.”

You scoff, turning your face away from his, your own gaze fixated on the sea. The sky paints itself orange. You wrap your arms around your body, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

He’s silent, and for once you welcome it. You don’t think the words you say next could leave you if he weren’t. And although brave, your voice is soft when you say,

“Jungkook, I love you.” You feel it when his eyes are on you. “I love you,” you shrug, a faint laugh leaving your lips. “I love you in the heat of the moment and I love you in the warmth of it. I love you when it’s cold. I love you when it’s freezing, even. I love you. And you don’t get it still. And perhaps I should try and find better words in hopes that you’d understand but I’m afraid that all I have is…,”

You pause, look into his eyes. 

“I love you.”

~

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[every-moment-a-different-sound]

Ok so the moment in Episode 3 after Charles meets Monty for the first time just won’t leave my brain. I’ve seen a bunch of posts about how Charles is jealous in this moment, and I 100% agree.

But I also think he’s being a bit self-destructive and feeling somewhat abandoned here as well.

He’s just spent the night trapped in a loop reliving his trauma. From Charles’s perspective, he’s just spent the night not being able to save a family from abuse. He wasn’t good enough to help them- at least that’s how I imagine it would feel to him.

They’re walking back from the Devlin house, not even inside the Tongue and Tail yet, and Edwin starts flirting with talking to Monty. When Monty talks about it being a perfect morning to do an astrology reading for him, Edwin glances at Charles, and Charles instantly starts talking to Crystal to give Edwin privacy for his chat with Monty. But Crystal says that the murder loop drained her so she’s going upstairs, and the moment everyone’s backs are turned Charles just looks so sad.

Charles watches Edwin and Monty talking for a moment, clearly seeing that Edwin’s enjoying himself, and pulls this face.

I think it’s jealousy, but I think it’s also that after the night he’s just had, he wants comfort. He wants his best mate. But Edwin’s too distracted by Monty and Crystal’s tired, and I don’t think Charles knows how to ask for comfort, or feels that he deserves it. Again, from his perspective he’s just spent hours failing to help people that are going through the same abuse he did; why would he deserve comfort?

So he just walks off. No parting words to Edwin. He just leaves.

[miupow]

🤍🏹hi!

I LOVE your crave au and your writing.

Crave yeonjun is living rent free in my mind… and I beg you...

Feed my delusional brain a bit more plzzz😭

hi darling 💗 nothing brings me as much joy as the amount of love that crave has.. i never thought in a million years that silly one-off drabble would have such an impact on my readers !! anyone who knows me knows i LOVEE werewolves, and by extension this au is absolutely my baby. (and if anyone was wondering, skz is also in this au they’re a pack of their own in the same woods :3 cee actually wrote me a story about them for my bday it was amazing)

here’s jjunie!! tyun is last <3 expect him later tonight !! i wrote a lot for jjunie.. it’s because he’s my favorite and i love him. it makes me sad that he’s like the least favorite of the pack :( show crave jjunie some love guys

CRAVEVERSE ; werewolf!yeonjun headcanons !

cw ⸝⸝ sfw + nsfw hcs .ᐟ werewolf!yj (and werewolf!rest of txt) , fem!reader , no dark content warning for these hcs but general dark content warning for crave as an au. breeding kink, unprotected sex, knotting, possessive and protective behavior

SFW ;

-> crave!yeonjun who knows in his heart from the moment he lays eyes on you that youre his soulmate, the mate destined for him by the moon herself.. he can feel it in his soul!! you belong with him.. you belong to him.

-> crave!yeonjun who originally doesn’t want any of the others to even look in your direction, touch you, but gets worn down by just how quickly and effortlessly you seem to enchant them, mind body and soul. still absolutely loses his shit when he finds about about any “coupling” the first few times

-> crave!yeonjun who wants so desperately for you to feel the same he does… it’s okay, he’ll court you like all wolves do! but you just don’t understand his behavior, you’re just not a wolf like he is! and it drives him up the wall that you just can’t seem to understand and accept him like a true mate should !! let him hunt for you, bring you gifts, show you how good of a mate he can be!!

-> crave!yeonjun who talks the sweetest with you, calls you the most endearing little pet names; love, darling, sugar, pup, angel, dearest, precious.. he lays it on thick lol and tbh it’s a little creepy at first

-> crave!yeonjun who is overprotective to a fault, won’t let you anywhere out of his (or his brothers’) sight. who will do absolutely anything and everything to protect you and keep you safe by his side. who only gets worse and more toxic about it if you ever attempt to escape and run away. his beloved, his bleeding heart… he won’t ever let you leave him.

-> crave!yeonjun who is soft for his baby brothers and let’s them get away with far more than any other pack leader would. sure, it makes him look weak, but yeonjun doesn’t care. he loves his boys and knows that he has their respect and loyalty, even if they don’t act like it

-> crave!yeonjun who won’t tell anyone how he’s feeling because he doesn’t want to “burden” anyone with his struggles. who feels like he has the world on his shoulders trying to keep his rag-tag pack afloat

-> crave!yeonjun who uses his charm and charisma to get him and his pack out of trouble, who makes friends with everyone, even potential enemies.

-> crave!yeonjun who gets pouty like a puppy when you don’t give him attention, who gets so soft and gooey for physical affection and sweet words. even just telling him “thank you” will make him purr <3

-> crave!yeonjun who has never been kissed before, a strictly human behavior… but gets so drunk on your kisses once you teach him the wonders of a peck on the check, a kiss on the forehead, a sensual make out that leaves him wanting more

NSFW ; (under the cut!)

-> crave!yeonjun who controls how the other boys play with you >< who tells you and them what to do, what not to do. and don’t you dare break the rules. instructs you to deepthroat soobin but tells him he isn’t allowed to cum down your throat, directs him to cum all over your tits <3 loves you being their free use slut when he’s the one in control !

-> crave!yeonjun who’s absolutely insatiable, who is always desperate for you. pussy on his mind literally 24/7

-> crave!yeonjun who’s the most submissive behind soobin, who’s willing to do whatever you want as long as it’s what makes you happy :) also who’s secretly a slut for power bottoms

-> crave!yeonjun who gets so possessive of you when he’s in rut that he’s a genuine danger to the other boys. won’t let you up from his bed, where his instincts are telling him that you’re safest.

-> crave!yeonjun who is never cumming anywhere except into your pretty womb, pussy drunk, growling about how you were made to take his fat knot, how he’s hoping his seed takes.

-> crave!yeonjun who loves to eat pussy, loves pulling your legs apart and making a meal out of you as you cry and beg <3 is so nasty and messy with it too, animalistic as he devours you ~

-> crave!yeonjun who loves to make you feel good just as much as you make him feel good, who loves to see your face contort and your eyes roll back in pleasure— he loves to be the reason why you’re feeling so good, isn’t he such a good mate?

-> crave!yeonjun who will fuck and breed until you’re both exhausted, and then demand cuddles and kisses until he falls asleep with you in his arms <3 and if he wakes up in the middle of the night with you gone, he’ll be very unhappy.

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

Ed’s Initial Intentions regarding Stede

Thank you so much for your attention to the poll. The consensus is it’s complicated - and I sort of agree - although I’m swayed towards Fascination alone.

This is my interpretation…

Stede causes Ed to access hidden or denied parts of himself before they’ve even met. And it causes a change in Ed’s behaviour. Ed’s come across many rich or aristocratic folks to rob whom he would see killed without issue; but not someone who’s also a pirate, doing their own original thing, and who seems ambivalent towards Blackbeard’s existence. It’s dopamine to Ed’s novelty-starved brain. It’s not as if Ed carries out a usual raid on the Revenge intending to kill Stede, only to find himself unexpectedly charmed. Ed’s bewitched even before he meets Stede, which means Ed’s entire approach and thought-processes are altered.

Killing Stede and the crew isn’t necessarily off the table should the need arise, but I don’t think it’s actively on in any capacity. There’s no plan, and there’s no ‘uszh’ for once either. Because none of this is uszh. Ed’s engagement with the Revenge is not his normal MO. History’s most brilliant tactician is free-styling. Possibly free-falling.

At the end of 102, Izzy states, ‘Captain says follow that ship.’ And Fang answers ‘Oh really? Why?’ To which Izzy replies, ‘How should I know? The man’s half-insane.’ This conversation shows this isn’t usual strategy. Even Fang asks why - he thought they’d seen the last of those ‘fancyboys’. And Ivan’s sad he didn’t get the chance to murder them, which seems the usual way of things. Plus they’d already had the chance to take or plunder the ship when it ran aground, so this stalking manoeuvre is out of the ordinary. It feels like wasted time and energy.

By the start of episode three, Blackbeard’s ship is a few hundred yards out from the Revenge, and Izzy’s trying to manipulate Ed into usual strategy again by suggesting opening fire, or boarding and throwing the Revenge crew to the sharks. Instead, Ed wants to wait until they make landfall and invite them aboard his ship. Ed’s doing something very different again because he’s unwittingly engaging with an unfamiliar part of himself. And interestingly ‘Go suck eggs in Hell’ appears not to insult, but to somewhat seduce him further. Before meeting Stede, he’s already out of his depth emotionally, and acting out of character, literally.

Despite what Ed would do normally, I just cannot see him landing on the Revenge with the active intent of plundering the ship and / or killing Stede and the crew. His words and actions suggest he’s already through the looking-glass.

So, to The Plan. We have three interesting moments which lead up to its revelation: the clothes swap, ‘careful of your face’ and ‘show me the ways of an aristocrat’.

For me, the three strands, which have no previous connection (other than Ed and Stede playing together), come together in Ed’s mind somewhere between Ed leaving Stede on the lookout, and Ed speaking with Izzy below: a matter of seconds. It reminds me of Keyser Söze in The Usual Suspects, pulling together disparate ideas into a cohesive story spontaneously. It’s the mind of a quick-thinker. And it’s in-keeping with Ed’s ability of reacting in the moment to the moment when necessary.

I think Ed also feels forced to perform Blackbeard for Izzy because Izzy’s threatening to leave pushes on that white father-figure emotional bruise. At this stage, Ed doesn’t have enough emotional loyalty to Stede to not voice such a plan; whilst his identity is still too caught in Izzy’s web to let him go - ‘you’re needed here’. For me, the plan to kill Stede is brought about in the moment via an act of psychological coercive control.

But Ed’s also kicking the can down the road. It’s a sort of Faustian bargain. Why not promise Izzy both their souls if it means Ed and Stede can hang out a little longer? Yet on another level Ed’s possibly hoping the debt won’t be called in, such is the complexity of the push and pull here. He’s putting it on the tab, the never-never. He’ll out-manoeuvre it if he decides that’s what he wants. Of course there’s doublethink going on because Ed’s in the middle of an identity crisis.

Ed daren’t admit his real reason for wanting to stay on the Revenge. He can’t comprehend himself even how deep this goes. His look as he turns is one of exhaustion and confusion. Stede Bonnet has him rattled. What started as a trickle of unease and ennui before they’d even met is now a whirlpool of unidentifiable feelings around both Stede, and Ed’s own perception of self.

Ed’s free-falling in liminal space.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ฿Ⱡ₳₦₭ ₴₱₳₵Ɇ | ₮₩Ø | ♡

♡ Pairings: fratboy!jaehyun x chubby!fem!reader, fratboy!johnny x chubby!fem!reader (appearances by other members)

♡ Genre: college au/angst

♡ Summary: It's been weeks since your last arguement with Jaehyun and you've refused to speak to him since. He doesn't know who or what has your attention but the fact that it isn't him is eating him alive. It makes no difference to you, who's confident in your choice to be with Johnny but when you show up to the frat house unexpected, accidentally revealing your little love affair, you bring out a side of Jaehyun you've never seen before. One that might make leaving him in the past a bit harder than you anticipated.

[Part One Here 🖤]

♡ Word Count: 2.5k-ish

♡ Warnings: none really except that this part is Jaehyun focused so Johnny's only around for a second (the next one will be more Johnny focused). It's heavy on the angst. Most of the fratboys are dickheads to women really. There's also mentions of drinking/casual sex and strong language.

♡ A/N: At last I've written part two. It took me a bit because my health has been kicking my ass but I was determined to add to this lil fic of mine so I hope you beautiful humans enjoy this chapter.

P.S My usual thank you to @anyamaris for reading this before I posted it. I'm in terrible need of a second brain lately and I appreciate you for so happily stepping up to be it 🖤

You fight. You cry. You get back together again. Fight. Cry. Get back together again. That’s the way things have always been between you and Jaehyun. He knows it isn’t healthy but, in his own twisted way, it’s the only way he can trust that you care about him. There’s no justification for it, nothing you did to him in the past that warrants such cruel and unusual punishment. 

Jaehyun’s addicted to the rush of getting back together. The desperate, passionate moment when your bodies collide after a week or so apart. Both of you too filled with need to care about what tore you apart in the first place. He can only get that with you, he only wants it with you.

But this time he took it too far, did a bit too much in his attempt to make you jealous, and now you won’t even speak to him. When he knocks on your door your roommate lies and says you aren’t there, refusing to open it more than a crack to shoot him down. Every call goes to voicemail, every text message left undelivered, and on the rare occasions that you run into each other you treat him like a ghost. 

Seated on the sectional couch at the heart of his living room, Jaehyun stares into the void of faceless partiers swarming the frat house. The beer cradled between his fingers has the top popped off but has barely been touched. The chattering of his frat brothers scattered across the couch might as well be miles away. 

A girl in a black mini skirt sneaks up behind him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, “You look sad, baby. Need me to cheer you up?” She licks her lips, planting soft, wet kisses down his neck the way she did a few nights ago when he was in need of some rebound sex that more than failed to satisfy him. 

Jaehyun pats her on the arm, shrugging her off, “Thanks but, uh, no thanks.” 

“Wait. What?” she frowns, arms folded across her chest, “You’re joking right?” 

Scooting closer to Jaehyun, his frat brother Taeyong places a sympathetic hand on hers. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t think he wants to play with you anymore." At the other end of the couch their brother Yuta raises his beer, winking at the girl, “But I will. I volunteer!” 

“Fuck you, Jaehyun and your asshole friends!” the girl huffs, storming off into the crowd. 

“Wait! Are you sure?” Yuta calls out after her, “Don’t you know what they say about Japanese guys with long hair?”

“Did she say fuck her in the asshole?” Doyoung, the most innocent of the frat brothers asks, his ears turning red from one too many shots. 

“Who’s getting fucked in the asshole?” Mark asks, flopping down beside Yuta on the couch. He’s younger than the other guys, probably shouldn’t be here, but they all have a soft spot for him, especially Yuta, so he gets to stick around. 

Yuta pouts, laying his head on Mark’s shoulder, “No one, sadly.” 

“Can you guys not be pigs for two seconds? Grow up” Jaehyun snaps, chugging down his beer so fast it makes him dizzy. 

“Ooh, someone’s cranky tonight” Taeyong teases, “What’s got you so uptight? You’re usually the worst of us.” 

Doyoung pours himself another shot, taking a quick, adorable sip of it. “She blocked him. On everything. Won’t even talk to him. So sad.” Jaehyun’s tempted to throw the empty bottle at Doyoung’s head and, unlike when you threw your shoe at him, there’s no way he could miss the shot. But Mark swoops in, wedging himself between Jaehyun and Taeyong to provide some comfort. “Aww, man, your girl broke your heart? I’m sorry. Hugs?” 

As Mark embraces Jaehyun, Yuta rolls his eyes at the display. “His girl?” Yuta laughs, “Hardly. He fucked her. By that standard mini skirt was his girl too.” 

“Oh and her!” Taeyong adds, pointing to the curly haired girl in the corner.

The others pile on, making a game out of spotting girls Jaehyun’s slept with. Jaehyun snatches free of Mark’s hug, refusing to sit through anymore of this. He’s ready to storm off himself but doubles back to clarify something. “She isn’t my girl but she’s not like them, alright? So respect her or I’ll hit you so hard every meal you have until next semester will need to be through a straw.” 

Taeyong throws his hands up, leading the others in easing up on Jaehyun, “No problem, bro. We were just fucking with you. We’l respect her.” 

“Uh, excuse me, am I interrupting something?” you ask, clearing your throat. The sound of your voice makes Jaehyun’s heart skip a beat and when he turns around to find that pretty face staring back at him, his heart all but stops. 

“N…no, we were just, wh…what are you doing here?” he stutters, a glimmer of emotion showing through for the first time in a long time. “I thought you hated me.”

You knew this day would come. It’s going on 3 weeks of evading any form of interaction with him but you knew that one day your luck would run out. You’d have to experience this moment. This conversation. The feelings you had for Jaehyun haven’t subsided easily. It stung to accept that he could never feel for you the way you wished he did but it was easier to let go when you had someone soft and loving to land on. 

Johnny hasn’t been your rebound, he’s been the furthest thing from it. You adore being with him. He does all the things you ever wanted a guy to do. He’s silly in ways you don’t always get but that’s just a part of his charm. He’s thoughtful and patient, never making you question if he has eyes for any girl other than you. You don’t hate Jaehyun. You don’t even have the time to when Johnny exists. 

“Hate you? No but have you…” you begin to whisper, burning under the spotlight of his frat brothers’ gaze, “Have you talked to Johnny?” 

Jaehyun’s a statue, rendered immobile by his confusion, “Talked to Johnny about what?”

“Baby!” Johnny cheers, popping out of the crowd to sweep you up into his arms, “What are you doing here? I told you I’d come get you.” 

“I know but my roommate was headed over here so I thought I’d save you a trip.” You try to clue him in that something’s happening but he’s showering you in so many kisses that you ultimately give into it, giggling like the happiest girl in the world. 

“Johnny, people are watching” you finally manage as your feet meet the ground again, Johnny’s arms secure around your waist. 

“Baby, I don’t care about people…” Johnny stops himself short, noticing precisely which people you happen to be referring to. 

The sadness on Jaehyun’s face tells you that he and Johnny haven’t talked about this. Not once. You catch yourself feeling bad for him, knowing the pain he feels oh too well. It’s the same pain that he dished out to you without remorse or reason and the thought of that turns your empathy into satisfaction. Revenge, bittersweet but successfully acquired all the same. 

“Jae, I’m sorry, really” Johnny apologizes, approaching Jaehyun to make peace but peace isn’t of interest and apologies aren’t enough. 

Jaehyun barrels past Johnny, nearly knocking him down in the process, “Fuck it, you can keep her. Have fun.” 

“Wait! I’m really…” Johnny calls after him, torn between chasing down his friend and staying here with you. 

Patting him on the shoulder, you give him a little peck on the lips, encouraging him to go ahead. “Johnny, I’ll be fine. Just do what you need to do.”

“Are you sure?” If you ask him to stay he will, no questions asked, no second guessing. If chasing after Jaehyun means hurting you he’d never do it in a million years. 

You crack a gentle, reassuring smile, “I’m sure. Now get out of here.” You playfully push him on his way and he kisses you on the back of the hand before letting go, rushing off into the direction Jaehyun was headed in. 

Jaehyun deserves a bit of pain for all he’s done to you but in both of their absences it sets in that maybe he isn’t the only one being hurt in all of this. Imagining how hurt Johnny would be at losing a friend, you feel the sudden weight of guilt the likes of none you’ve ever had to bear. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Especially not here in front of everyone.

“Aaah, a good old fashioned love triangle. The tragedy! The heartbreak!” Mark says, head thrown back dramatically.

Taeyong throws a pillow at Mark, shushing the younger man. Mark catches it, cuddling it in his arms like a stuffed animal. “What? I like love stories. I wonder, how’s it gonna end?”

Yuta grins at you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table, “Yeah, cutie, you’re the one they're gonna kill each other over. You tell us, how’s it gonna end?” 

Wiping your increasingly sweaty palms on your dress, you feel the spotlight on you growing brighter and you can’t stomach it. You take off out into the night, navigating the minefield of passed out partiers to get across the front lawn. Yuta’s words echo in your mind, “You tell us, how’s it gonna end?” 

Like you have all the power. Like you’re the only one responsible for any of this. How’s it gonna end? You have no clue but you wish that the ending, however bad or good, would come already. 

You should be at a movie theater right now cuddled up beside Johnny eating overpriced snacks. Instead you’re standing in the frozen section of a fluorescent lit gas station contemplating which freezer burnt pint of ice cream you’ll drown your sorrows in tonight.

Somewhere in your purse your phone is on silent, no doubt blowing up with texts and calls from both of the men you find yourself tangled up with. The adult thing to do would be to go back to the party and face this problem straight on. Or you could demolish the snacks piled into your arms and pretend this never happened. 

“The second one, for sure” you decide, fumbling with the freezer door handle to retrieve your ice cream of choice. 

“Is there another party going on that I don’t know about?” Jaehyun asks, watching you from the end of the aisle. You groan, abandoning your ice cream mission to get as far away from him as possible. He steps in front of you, blocking your path, “I’m not stalking you. I promise. I just needed some air and I…anyway, let me help you.”

Jaehyun skips over to ice cream, popping the freezer door open. He pokes out his lip, eyebrows furrowed in as he scans the options. “There we go” he grins, plucking your favorite ice cream from the shelf on the first try. You’ve never explicitly told him which one it was and you try not to be impressed by the fact that he cared to take note of it but deep down inside you are.

“Come on, I’ll pay for it” he insists, leading the way to the register. It takes him a few steps to realize that you haven’t followed and he spins around on his heels to find you staring at him in disgust. 

“What I meant to say was, may I pay for your things, my queen?” A group of passing girls giggle as he bows to you with all the elegance of a man who’s in the presence of royalty. 

“Cut it out. You’re embarrassing me” you whine and he responds with a twirl that brings him closer to you, the already defrosting ice cream jumping from hand to hand. 

“Aah but I just want the queen to be happy and I do hear this is her favorite.”

“Oh, I’m a queen now? And what does that make you? My royal jester?” 

Jaehyun stares into your eyes, his expression turning serious, “If that’s what you want me to be.”

“It’s a little too late to be what I wanted you to be, isn’t it?” you ask, your voice shaking more than you’d like it to. 

“I don’t know, is it?”

He asks you the question like his whole life depends on your answer. He’s always been the one who had the upper hand, standing over you, his whimpering prey, with a knife to your throat that could end you at any time. It’s strange to be on the other end of it now but, unlike him, you’re prone to taking mercy on poor, wounded little animals. While you may not have it in you to strike the killing blow, you’re content to let him lie here and bleed out. 

“You know what? Suddenly I've lost my appetite” you say, emptying your snacks into his arms, “I’m sure there’s enough girls in your phone to share that with.”

This isn’t some melodramatic exit where you walk away expecting him to follow you. Running into him in the first place wasn’t the plan. Yet you’re barely out of the gas station parking lot when the tiny hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand on end and you just know he’s trailing behind you.

“Will you at least let me take you home? You shouldn’t be walking alone. There could be psychopaths out here!”

You pick up speed repeating to yourself, “Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t—”

“I love you!” Jaehyun shouts for the entire block to hear. It’s his voice but those can’t be his words. Fueled by rage, you ignore your own advice and turn to confront him. 

“Take it back!” you demand, refusing to accept his profession. Of all the things he’s ever done to manipulate you this has to be the lowest he’s gone. 

“No, if I mean it then why should I?” 

“Because you’re lying! You’re a liar! It’s what you do. It’s what you always do!” you scream, the anger you’ve held in for months overflowing. 

“Okay, I am a liar. A liar and a piece of shit who couldn’t commit to you cause I was too afraid of getting hurt so I hurt you first” he admits, “And that’s not for you to fix. Maybe I need fucking therapy, I don’t know, but I do love you.”

“That’s not enough!”

Jaehyun sees you motion to leave again and grabs your wrists, locking them at your sides. “Then tell me what’s enough and I’ll do it. It can’t be too late for us. I’m falling apart without you.”

Tears run hot down your cheeks and he cups your face, kissing them away. It feels nicer than you want it to, more calming than repulsive. You were out, done with him forever, and look at you now, standing under the streetlights melting into the palms of his hands.

But this time is different from the others and far more dangerous because for once the liar isn’t lying. He loves you and it means it. Why the fuck does he have to mean it?